Wow (Times Two)

Wow! High school students all over the nation are realizing that way too much of their so-called elected representation are whores more interested in amassing campaign financing than acting in the best interests of the electorate. 

These enlightened students are acting en masse to demand change that, well, shouldn't have to be demanded. This has the smell, the feel of the early days of the Vietnam war protests, with a bottom-up, groundswell dynamic influencing and galvanizing public opinion.

I am so freaking impressed by these students collectively raising their voice and shaming our so-called leadership into doing what should have been done such a very, very long time ago. God bless them and their hope and their optimism and their belief and above all, their don't-tell-me-it-can't-be-done-until-I've-already-done-it conviction.

To say it is heartening and refreshing is woefully inadequate.

I'll see you in the streets March 24—if not sooner.

Wow. Hearing conservative's response to a growing call for meaningful gun reform is certainly sobering. The collective and willful denial they display in the face of the overwhelming evidence to the contrary is jaw-dropping.

Funny how when Republicans are called upon to share their perspective on our gun problem, it invariably comes down to the fact that there aren't enough. We. Need. More. Guns.

Does 'stupid' have a more luminous definition?

Then there's the unnamed citizen who appeared on the NBC network news not so long ago, complaining that by demanding a ban on assault weapons, we are 'scapegoating' the AR-15.

Yeah. Imagine that, dude.

Just like we scapegoat drunk driving, terrorism, SIDS and opioids.

Go figure.

A famous comedian once said you can't fix stupid. Which is undeniably true.

At least its parents can be neutered.

Mark Janus Seeks the Right to Work

In so many ways, Mark Janus is a very fortunate man. He works for a state agency in Illinois—the same state that has nearly bankrupted itself gifting employees like Mr. Janus with plump, well-fed pensions.

But that's not enough. Our poor, put-upon Mr. Janus has his knickers in a twist because he has to pay $45 a month in union dues for his membership in AFSCME.

As a dyed-in-the-wool conservative, Mr. Janus feels he should keep everything he makes. He feels he shouldn't have to pay taxes and fees and especially union dues, which is certainly interesting given the talking points his political party of choice likes to trot out.

Mark Janus should get his sewage treated, meat inspected, roads repaired and libraries stocked and staffed (not to mention his union representation) for free, but god forbid the poor, the disabled and the elderly get help with, well, just about anything.

Because that would make them freeloaders.

But conservatives like Mr. Janus aren't. 

Got it?

In the words of Mr. Janus' lawyer, “AFSCME takes political positions that he doesn't support and advocates for more spending and higher taxes.”

I would like to invite Mr. Janus to work in the private sector, where after airing his complaint he would be told that thanks to the miracle of At Will employment, he was free to leave. 

Of course, Mr. Janus would never leave his public-sector job because that would mean giving up his union-negotiated salary, union-negotiated benefits and that oh-so-sweet union-negotiated pension.

Yes, Mr. Janus wants his cake and a big, giant fork.

And to be honest, so do I.

I can only dream of not paying taxes to the circus headed by Donald Trump and what I call Republicants because they stand for nothing I believe in and everything I don't. But if I want to enjoy the benefits of living in America, taxes must be paid.

Of course, this is much, much bigger than Mr. Janus and his wallet-busting union dues. It's about defunding unions and consequently, Democrats. It's about the tragically mis-labeled Right to Work statute.

Because in the addled logic of right-wingers like Mr. Janus, Democrats and unions are the enemy. Even as they provide a secure and comfortable living for him.

One party rule is clearly the best path forward because even as Mr. Janus rails against the effects of prolonged one-party rule in Illinois, Republicans controlling everything forever would somehow be different.

This because businessmen would be running things.

Perhaps you know how great things were the last time wealthy businessmen were in control. The salad days of the late nineteenth-century. The Industrial Revolution.

Employment was so abundant men worked six days a week, for ten, eleven and twelve hours a day. And not just men. No sir. Those free-thinking, egalitarian businessmen opened up their factories to everyone. Even kids.

And thanks to their generous wages, upward mobility was never more prevalent. Frugal, industrious folk could save enough cash to have stew—with meat—once a week. Or dream of a visit to a cobbler and a new pair of shoes. Or buy a coffin for ma when she died during childbirth.

Yes, life was grand.

Then those goddamn Democrats and their confounded unions screwed everything up.

Thanks to their unswerving dedication to make life better for everyone (i.e. even people who didn't possess millions of dollars), people could not work seventy hours a week and still have a shot at living quarters that included light, fresh air, indoor plumbing and electricity.

They could even afford to see doctors before they died at forty-five of black lung or tuberculosis or dysentery.

But as the best and the brightest conservative minds have pointed out, this sucked.

It sucked because unlike you and me, the folks organizing labor and effectively fighting the offal in the executive wing for a fair share of corporate profits needed money to live. This is where the heresy of union dues enters the picture.

And if that weren't bad enough, some wise-ass got the idea for an urban sewage system. And another for consumer protections. And yet another for an agency that would promote public health.

And boom! We had taxes.

You have to agree this was pointless, wasteful stuff.

Through the widespread implementation of Right to Work statutes, we can—at long last—cede control to Republicans and their healthy, inclusive, we're-all-in-this-together agenda.

Anger is a very unhealthy state of being. It's what makes us cut off our nose to spite our face. It's what makes bloggers post inarticulate rants—like I did last Thursday. When we're angry our thinking is muddled. Our actions lamentable.

Do we really want to destroy unions? Do we really want to remove the checks-and-balances a two party system provides? Do we really want to hand over one-hundred percent of everything to Republicans and wealthy businessmen?

Are we really so naive?

So many things in the United States of America could be better. Our leadership. Our government. Ourselves. But throwing the baby out with the bathwater isn't the answer.

We don't burn down our houses when we discover an insect infestation. We call an exterminator. And despite my howling indignation about so many facets of twenty-first century America, I don't generally advocate for revolution.

Yeah, blowing stuff up and smashing windows is lots of fun. And who doesn't enjoy a roaring fire now and then? But in the end it mostly wastes time and energy. And the clean-up is a bitch.

Mr. Janus, the vast majority of taxes go to the public good, except in places like Illinois where the *ahem* pension obligation threatens the economic well-being of the entire state and demands an inordinate share of tax revenue. 

Whining about higher taxes and political positions as your employer slavishly seeks to honor its pension commitment to you is questionable at best and off-the-charts hypocrisy at worst. Now would be a good time to mention that Janus was a two-faced Roman god.

Tell you what, Janus. Why don't you file a suit alleging your pension is too generous, and that instead of threatening the entire population with higher taxes and service cuts, your employer should instead increase your union dues and scale back your benefits?

You know, show some of that individual responsibility you Republicans are always crowing about.

Yeah. That's what I thought.

So Awesome!

Even as we mourn—in public—the death of seventeen schoolchildren, in private we seemingly sign off on this as routinely as we check our social media accounts.

If you've ever voted Republican you've endorsed the maximum availability of guns to just about anyone who wants one. We're not supposed to consider the reason the weapon was purchased. That's not important. 

What is vital to the ongoing functionality of the United States is that it was (and is) available. Just imagine the shithole the United States would be if Nikolas Cruz hadn't been able to assemble an arsenal fit for an urban SWAT team. 

The hypocrisy is as staggering as it is appalling. And of course is taken to its logical extreme by lead ringmaster Donald Trump, who courted the NRA throughout his campaign. 

Shut the fuck up Donald. Shut the fuck up Republicans. Shut the fuck up NRA.

Don't ever say you're filled with remorse. Or consumed by regret.

This is what you believe in. This is what you stand for. This is what—above all else—you enable.

If we loved our kids (and each other) the way we like to say we do, the NRA would have ceased to exist a very long time ago.

 

Chillin'

It's winter—again. Like the time that passes between unwelcome chores, winter inspires thoughts along the lines of “Didn't we just do winter last year?”

Not that I should complain. Since the epic winter 2013/14, the last three have been fairly mild. A year ago saw February temps reach into the sixties. But about November first the awareness of this becomes a breeding ground for a peculiar kind of Old Testament guilt.

We haven't been made to suffer sufficiently, oh Lord. We beseech thee to bestow upon us the punishment we so richly deserve. As the ungrateful recipients of mild winters we neither deserve or even enjoy, we beseech thee oh Lord for your most unmerciful meteorological displays, that we might be made whole again in your eyes.

Echoing the neutral-to-nuclear social dynamic that currently infests our republic, daytime highs have either been forty degrees Fahrenheit or twelve. 

True, there was a munificent stretch of stress-free weather prior to Christmas that allowed shoppers to empty their wallets without the unpleasantness of wind chills, wintry mixes or winter storm advisories marring the festivities.

But this was followed by a two-week spell (which neatly coincided with student's Christmas break) that saw temperatures remain below twenty. And they were often far-lower. It was the longest such period in Chicago's history.

Snowfall has followed a similar pattern. It was mostly a rumor until we flipped our calendars to February. After what was being termed a snow drought, we have seen snow on three successive weekends.

This past week, it snowed every day, with massive snowfalls predicted for the weekend. This was reinforced at every turn by a panicked media, even as there were no new developments to report. We obediently rushed out and filled supermarket check-out lanes with carts stuffed with food enough to last until spring.

In the end, was there significant snow? Yes. Was it snowpacalypse? No. 

And I am ungrateful because a howling blizzard would have allowed me what I enjoy most about the season: watching people drive. Yes, the first snow of the season unfailingly reminds me of a NatGeo or Animal Planet special, because watching drivers contend with it is like watching baby animals take their first steps.

There is the halting creep to a stop sign or traffic signal. Brake lights flicker as a driver tests their footing. Then there is the tenuous negotiation of a turn. And ideally, the skillful application of acceleration afterwards.

Slow ensures the insurance agent will remain a stranger.

Of course, it doesn't always go this way. Drivers of SUVs and pick-up trucks, armed with an inflated sense of indomitableness, feel compelled to display their vehicular-enabled superiority by passing the rest of us with barely disguised contempt.

Your patience will be rewarded when, several miles down the road, they are seen frantically dialing their phones in search of a tow truck with a winch. Even with high ground clearance and four-wheel drive, ditches, culverts and gullies don't release their captives willingly.

Amusement aside, winter is expensive. And time-consuming. Yes, winter is a lot of work.

It requires insulated coats. Gloves. Scarves. Heavy boots. Hats. Anti-freeze. Windshield washer solvent. Scrapers. Snow brushes. Snow tires. Snow shovels. Snowblowers. Salt. Heat. Not to mention the storage space required for these when it's not winter.

We have to warm up our cars. For those of us without garages, we have to clear off our cars. Scrape windows. Walk more carefully. Drive more slowly. Put more clothes on. Take more clothes off. Leave earlier for work. And arrive home later.

We have to wash our cars more often. And clean road salt off our coats when we don't. Wash floors. And sweep unidentifiable muck from our garage floors. Can the folk who calculate what texting costs American business in lost productivity please tell us what winter costs?

But then there is a sunset painted in pewter, yellow and blue. And the pink sunrises and sunsets that occasionally follow a winter storm. The graceful curve of wind blown snow and the way it can trace the branches of a tree.

There is the distinctive crunch of it underfoot and the clarity of a chilled, star-filled sky at night. A cup of hot chocolate. The smell of cold air. And a renewed appreciation for the comforts of a warm bed.

It could be worse.

Mystery Train

It's tough to be a monopoly.

Without having to craft marketing campaigns that sway consumers to your brand or sussing out new and better ways of doing things that keep you one step ahead of the competition or monitoring expenses to ensure that you remain lean and mean, what the hell do you do all day?

Calculate the extent of your monopoly? 

With obesity at epidemic proportions, shouldn't you be concerned that the sedentary lifestyle afforded you by your monopoly places you at risk? 

And so it is for METRA, the government-created railroad which operates Chicago's commuter trains.

In ways that would make Karl Marx proud, METRA is routinely unable to convert a rail monopoly in the nation's third-largest metropolitan area into profit. Despite the fact that 300,000 people pack their trains every day, it is not enough.

Students of history may recall the struggles of Cecil Rhodes and John D. Rockefeller to make their monopolies profitable.

I guess this monopoly business isn't all it's cracked up to be.

With its feckless brain trust unable to conceive of any other option, METRA looks to the private sector for inspiration. Like them, it takes the path of least-resistance: for the fourth time in four years METRA has raised the cost of a ticket. And cut service.

The fourth time is always the charm, isn't it? Or something like that. (When you operate a public sector monopoly, close is good enough. Precision and accuracy are not required.)

Besides, what are commuters going to do? Ride the competition's trains?

Back in 2011, METRA tried to get out of its own way. It hired a two-hundred seventy-five dollar an hour consultant to observe its operation and draw a conclusion or two. The consultant reported that scores of riders were riding for free, with METRA's very well-paid conductors more interested in newspapers than in the inconvenience of collecting fares.

Four fare-hikes later, I wonder if anything has changed.

As a bus driver who delivers riders to METRA stations five days a week, I am told that riding under radar still isn't the anomaly paying riders would hope. It certainly seems fair to ask what portion of these incessant increases cover conductor ineptness?

And if not that, what do they cover?

With unemployment at a twenty-first century low, ridership should be booming. METRA's cash flow should resemble the torrential flash floods seen in California. And yet it does not. Again, for the fourth time in four years METRA has its hand out.

Four times. Four years. You can't turn a profit with a monopoly? Seriously?

Having only its long-term health at heart, we the people should be demanding that METRA be placed on a low-fat diet; one rich in transparency and accountability and low in avoiding potentially unpleasant face-offs with employees and board members.

As an ardent believer in unions and mass transportation, I wince at the damage METRA does to the public perception of both.

The fraud at METRA must stop. Without the demands private sector businesses face, god knows they have the time.

The Super Bowl

I admire what Robert Kraft and Bill Belichick and Tom Brady have achieved in Boston. Really.

My hometown Bears can't string together three consecutive winning seasons, much less seventeen. Ditto my once favorite football team, the Dallas Cowboys.

And this without the benefit of high draft picks. Belichick has consistently rebuilt through the dicey free-agency game, and if you think that's easy take another look at the Bears.

And the five Super Bowl trophies? They exist in an entirely different dimension. One the vast majority of NFL franchises have no idea even exists.

So yeah. I respect the hell out of 'em.

But at the same time, I'm tired of 'em.

It was sixteen years ago that the Patriots won their first Super Bowl. It was nice seeing the mostly downtrodden franchise get their time at the top of the mountain. They deserved it.

But if people were tired of the Bulls after a mere seven years (my co-workers in Albuquerque, New Mexico complained that NBC stood for nothing but Chicago), you can imagine the fatigue football fans feel towards the Patriots.

In sports, churn is a good thing. It keeps fan interest up, not to mention hope. We all love seeing a fresh, new champion.

Brady and company are the guests who request a drink re-fill even as the hosts are clearing away the dishes and the silverware and suppressing a yawn.

Guys? It's really time to go.

Which is why I'm rooting for the once mortal enemies of the Dallas Cowboys. Philadelphia hung together and persevered despite the loss of their all-world quarterback and haven't won a championship since 1960.

It's time.