hope4grandkids

A Grandfather's Perspective

Page 6 of 15

I’M AIMING FOR 100+

I’ve mentioned that I have not voted for a major political party candidate for President since 2012. Today’s brief connection to TV and the internet demonstrated that 2024 may extend that streak. The possible rematch of two titans dominates the news. It is nearly 100% all day long that one guy is a Boozo. The other is an old guy who parlayed his position for wealth. Constant. Where are the grownups in politics, the media or this new thing called social media? My recent visit to Mount Rushmore convinced me we need folks in all walks of life with integrity. As solid as the rock depicting those four Presidents. It’s a potential easy solution. Each citizen needs to focus on matters other than personal gratification or accumulated astounding wealth. Establish a moral code and follow it.

I think there are now over seventy criminal charges pending on Trump. Over charging was sometimes welcomed when I did defense work. A prosecutor has to prove all the cases to a jury. They may have some strong charges but for every weak allegation there is potential to raise doubt everywhere. A jury might start to think that if so many charges are dubious, perhaps that might be true of stronger charges. Papa viewed such prosecutors as having a lack of confidence. Trump of course is another story. Political intent is added to the equation. So, with rumored cases posible in various additional jurisdictions Papa is betting that more than 100 charges might be pending by the next time I access TV or the internet.

Piling on could actually end up helping Trump. It is hard to imagine him as victim. He brings so much of this on himself. When he’s treated unfairly, as has been demonstrated beyond a doubt, he’s incapable of turning it to his advantage. Keep your mouth shut and let others put a spotlight on the abuses of the other side. He doesn’t laser in on the evidence but rather diverts away from what could be a positive for him and says something outragous and not in his own interest. That personality doesn’t belong carved into rock. So, America’s politicians and movers and shakers continue to violate Papa’s prime rule. It’s okay to act/be silly; just don’t do silly.

However, this blog is for hope. I do not give up hope that, somehow and someway, I will vote for a major party candidate next year. I’d better; time is runing out.

COAST TO COAST

In 1962 my brother and I joined three friends from college and drove to the Seattle World’s Fair. It was a memorable trip. I relived an aspect of that trip this week while I make the cross country trek to Sight Point. I was just as impressed by the beauty of an area near Coeur d Alene, Idaho as I was 61 years ago. Its scenic landscape extends for miles into Montana. The mountain lake surrounded by beautiful pine/fir is spectacular. One’s spirit rises throughout the journey. What a great memory to celebrate.

Another fond memory fom that excursion was a visit to San Francisco. Yes, after driving from Madison to Seattle on the compressed time table of a spring break, why would’t young men full of themselves believe that there was plenty of time to swing down to California before returning to school. That city was full of life. It had an exciting vibe to it. Landmarks were eveywhere. From Fisherman’s Wharf to the Embarcadero to Nob Hill to the Top of the Mark and out to Tanforan Raceway we didn’t miss a beat. Surely not the music and entertainment beat on Braodway at the Hungry Eye, Big Al’s and the Condor Club. Carol Doda’s place. Throw in the Golden Gate and we were happy travelers as we raced back home. That memory I do not wish to ruin by re-visiting that once majastic city. Even when I visted your parents in the area in the 1990’s it had lost much of its luster. Kind of seedy and shabby in a worn out way. Today’s reported conditions would make me cry if I saw it in person. Too many “activists” city fathers have lost sight of primary responsibilities. They fail to follow what was once known as “Sewer Socialists” in Milwaukee.

Yet, America’s beauty persists. One can only hope that man’s do-gooders keep their eager hands off nature. My initial drive west through the Columbia Gorge was stunning. God sort of took a creative break from The Dalles to Spokane. Thereafter, on route I-90 the countryside is more than par right to the Illinois border. Once that semi-circle of haze was completed pleasant scenery resumed right to Papa’s objective. 4000 miles! (More or less)

FRANK CHURCH

When I was young I thought political office might be in my future. I still love all things historical/political. From afar nowadays. However, in the 1960’s I wanted to be involved. I’ve mentioned in this blog that when I was growing up (I know; not there yet.) it was difficult to distinguish left from right in the news media and even between political parties. So, I asked your great-grandfather who was political on a local level. He advised attending the local democrat/republican party meetings. Sort it out was his advice. I did.

I made inquiries. With invitations in hand I attended a few meetings of each local party. They were nice but I walked away with my socks intact. I had hopes that they’d be engaging on issues and policies. It seemed more like “the other guys are bad guys and we are the good guys.” The objectives discussed were not about making the country/state/county better or simply providing good government. Win. Beat the other guy. That was the formula to make eveything better. To me it seemed like a flip the coin situation. I had been enthused by JFK but at the time I could lean either way depending on the issue or the candidate.

That continued to be my mindset during the historic Watergate era. I could see merit on both sides and good in various candidates in those days. The national parties were of course rivals but not so much in the good guys/bad guys mode I had witnessed locally. For example, for the Civil Rights Act of 1964, senators and representatives from both parties fought side by side. I felt that was good government as envisioned when learning civics. For nearly three months democrats filibustered against the law. In the end it was a bi-partisan victory.

Likewise, when impeachment loomed for Presidnt Nixon, there was bi-partisanship throughout the various investigations. My memory of Howard Baker is just as vivid as is that of Sam Ervin. I remember that Nixon resigned the day after republicans paid him a visit and told him he was toast. Barry Goldwater leading that delegation sticks in my mind. My mind may play games with my memory but I believe efforts to “pile on” charges against Nixon lost Rather, tight professional charges were focused on in the impeachment.

Which brings me to Frank Church, the democrat senator from Idaho at the time. Abuses dating back for decades by the CIA/FBI were exposed during Watergtate. Our supposed protectors were lawlessly out of control. Years of shame. A stain on our founding principles. Senator Church chaired an investigative committee that found even more outrageous conduct by the unelected heads of these and other agencies. Again, there was a fairly bi-patisan effort. I don’t recall a minority report. The committee put sunshine on the abuses and made recommendations to guard against future misconduct.

All of which is part of Papa’s past of voting for candidates of both parties depending on how I viewed their ability to govern and represent my principles. I might lean one way or another at times depending on issues. Except when there was only one or two candidates on the ballot I did not vote straight tickets. I didn’t see either party as good enough I’d go 100% goo-goo voting blind tickets. It amazes me people do.

However, current circumstances have changed me. I am on my way to Sight Point where I left my copy of the Mueller Report. I remember reading that document that came to a no wrongdoing conclusion and thought so many words that said nothing but appeared to say soemthing dire had been amiss. To this average legal mind I saw fluff. I recently read the Durham Report and that was a professional product. It showed by clear and convincing evidence that the FBI/CIA/IRS and others were involved in abuses that make a mockery of the concerns raised by the Church Committee. That committee’s corrective actions either never took or that slow moving giant iceberg of the administrative state still needs a major overhaul. At a personal level I am shocked at the lack of bi-partisan outrage at what is worse that what we learned from the Church Committee. I will hereafter look for any member of the democrat party who is as outraged as were both parties in the 1970’s. It’s impossible to read the Durham Report and not be concerned. From my perspective nearly all democrats have shrugged off the obvious.

It may be that the ends justify the means to them. But, there is a much bigger principle at stake now. I believe that the hurch Committee memebers would see the clear and present dangers.

BTW, I rote some of this when passing through Senator Church’s state of Idaho on Papa’s recent folly. More on that as I drive if reliable internet is found.

THE OLD ACE IN THE HOLE

If you think Papa may again be lost in the past with a 1950’s movie, this post is not about the ultra cynical press of today. Just as in the film there is for sure a fast buck to be made with today’s shameless news media. However, today I wish to address another humorous aspect of death.

For years when friends and family discussed someone who recently passed I’d say we are all one serious diagnosis away fom the end. After nods all around, the discussion would turn to hoping one dies while asleep. No one wants the long, painful death. That is when I’d pipe in and claim my early onset heart disease was my “ace in the hole.” No lingering death for me. Over and out. I take strange comfort from my four1988 CABGs.

My April 7th post was about humor in the face of the final curtain. In some respects humor faded for Papa when he migrated west. I suspect this is one of the first places humor went to die. However, today I’m talking about actual death. Who better to discus the subject with than my brother again. He has his own medical issues but he is solid with the family’s genetic heart condition. Heart by-pass, valves, re-dos, and congestive heart failure. It’s an imprssive check list. So, during a recent telephone conversation he told about slowing down. Not feeling peppy. Lousy at some times.

Then he said it. “When is that old ace in the hole going to kick in?” Humor is still alive. We laughed of course. So much of our life together has revolved around jokes and snappy come backs. Banter is good for the soul. I know that the times and culture has changed but it gives me great joy when I hear one of you with a good zinger. It proves your minds are working. Gives hope. It’s hard to bury a good sense of humor.

MEMORIES FOR MEMORIAL DAY

This weekend pays respect to those who died in the service of our country. However, earlier this week Papa was reminded of a joyous outcome from the Vietnam War. When I was in law school I had a roommate from North Dakota. It was a super state in my eyes. It provided me a good roommate. People from North Dakota were close knit. If Phil Jackson was in town to play basketball, 20 or 30 kids showed up at the game. A few were in college, some had local jobs and others were simply passing through town. Everyone from ND knew everyone else. So, it did not surprise me that around 1966 an Air Force pilot showed up at our apartment doorstep. He was on his way to Vietnam.

To prove that alcohol does not eliminate one’s memory, a statement he made stuck with me. His dream in combat was to find an enemy supply train and attack and destroy it. A laudable ambition in war I suppose. However, in the deep recess of my mind at the time was the sentiment from a popular song. Please General Custer I don’t want to go! It was a time when all honorable young males faced the reality of military service. It wasn’t long after that evening that we received word that he had been shot down. I don’t recall any further news. Time slipped and surged forward. Graduation, marriage and soon it was my time to deploy to Vietnam. Followed by an eventual return home for me. For others their fates lingered in time.

This week’s news included covering a celebration marking the 50th anniversary of the return of the Vietnam POWs. My recall from 1973 was of several return flights, all televised. Spread out over weeks/months depending on the health condiiton of the heros. This week my memory returned to the day in Fort Ord that I witnessed Loren Torkelson of North Dakota step off his Freedom Bird. He was alive and free. I didn’t know he was alive until his name flashed on the TV. Fifty years ago. I am glad for the reminder of that good memory.

This weekend my memory will return to the other two men with whom I had some connection. A high school classmate of my brother and my fraternity brother at Wisconsin. Both were pilots in Vietnam. Both were lost/killed in action. I mourn their loss. And for all of life that they missed. I’ll always remember them as young. Unlike me and the old vet passing out poppies at the grocery store today. It’d be difficult for either of us to raise our arms high enough, quickly enough to give a proper salute much less soldier. During only a few minutes of conversation two old goats had more in common than the fraility of age. Our connection was formed when we were young. It’s mostly unspoken. It is just there. That simple interaction is something I wish Bill and Norm had lived to experience.

I did get a poppy for each of you. I always do. It’s a good symbol. Take some time and think about it. As you go through life I urge you to be a good citizen. It’s the right thing to do. And, it is perhaps a small sign of respect for the sacrifice of men represented by the poppy. This year’s family get together will of course include Papa’s music. A heavy dose of the 1940’s. Humm along.

SPEEDOMETERS

As the oldest of you approach your driver’s licensing day, any news story about dangerous driving catches Papa’s eye. A local 19 year old speed demon was clocked at 176 miles per hour on the interstate. He was arrested on an off ramp near our gyms. I am at a loss for two reasons. I didn’t know any car could go that fast if it wasn’t on a raceway. (Papa is notoriously slow per a family member.) Secondly, I didn’t know anyone that stupid still existed. I remember the first such person(client). He had a habit of fleeing the police, ditching his car and climbing up an electric tower. It was not his first such rodeo. He enjoyed watching the cops search the field below for him. On his final day no one could say if it was the electric jolt or the fall that killed him.

Don’t speed. At 176 miles per hour a car would travel the length of a football field before a driver could start to react. That local kid is lucky he didn’t kill anyone. And, to have survived his own recklessness. There is a reaon why there are speed limits. It takes time to recognize danger, brake and avoid potential disasters. In the 1950’s some cars had a red ribbon as its speedometer that flowed left to right from 0 up to 120. I recall getting half way up that dial one evening driving a heavy Buick on a county road. The speed shocked me. Those cars rode relatively smooth and I didn’t realize the car was going that fast. I was young. It takes awhile to get the feeling of a car. That is why it is important for you to pay attention when driving. It’ll take some time to feel comfortable behind the wheel. Comfortable means not being nervous. It never means losing focus. And, don’t climb any electric transmission towers for any reason.

1959 YEARBOOK

When President Richard Nixon signed Title IX into law in 1972 a dramatic change in female participation in organized sports ensued. That law actually did not mention sports as it had a more encompassing purpose in education. However, it soon led to an explosive expansion of womens’ sports. For younger generations it is perhaps difficult to grasp how profound the change was for girls and womens’ sports. Throwing out national statistics about the difference in the number of men and women participating in organzed sports before and after Title IX may not be sufficient to fully understand that change. Which is why Papa’s 1959 high school yearbook has been consulted.

Nine sports for boys were offered at my high school. Counting “B” teams in football, basketball and cross country there were twelve teams. A lot of opportunity for boys to play a sport. It seemed natural to me. Boys were used to playing sports long before high school. I played in grade school and in junior high. In the 1959 yearbook many boys were pictured as participants. Tennis had ten team members while football had sixty-one.

However, there were no teams for the girls. None. Zero. The closest sport at school for females was co-ed intramural bowling. The world of sports after Title IX changed very quickly. Not just in high school and college but also on local recreation fields. In the grade schools and junior highs. Your mothers and peers were eager to sign up for localy offered sports. It was like a dam burst. Ball fields and indoor areans expanded. After enduring coaching boys soccer, Papa spent 7 or 8 years coaching girls soccer. (What a change! Asked to gather around me to hear my wonderous insight, the boys scattered like marbles in all directions. When I first made that request to girls, they hustled into perfectly formed rows.) My memory is that there was plenty of opportunity in sports for young girls after the 1970’s. Now, there are pros, college scholarships, and other school teams in addition to thousands of girls playing all manner of sports on a recreational basis. Current news reports discuss conflicting definitions of equality in womens’ sports. Be aware that such hot topic discussions were not on the mind of many folks in 1959. I have proof from a yearbook. It’s a good marker of the enourmous advancement that Title IX brought to females in sports. A change worth celebrating.

BEER ADS/PROMOTIONS

In the 1950’s the top selling beer in America was Schlitz, “The Beer That Made Milwaukee Famous”. Papa remembers that Schlitz was the sponsor of a decent movie featured weekly on Saturday Night Theater on WTMJ. By decent I mean of recent vintage. I recall mostly watching silent films and cowboy movies on television. Viewing options were quite sparse. That is what made the Saturday night movie special. I think there were only two commercials during the braodcast. That was nice also. The show’s host, Jack Brand, sat in an easy chair alongside an end table with a bottle of Schlitz and a tall pilsner glass. After introducing the movie, he’d pour a near perfect head of beer. (Papa was always disappointed because my inner self wanted him to over pour and make a mess.) But, he’d simply drink some beer from his masterpiece and it was off to the movie.

As a youngster I assumed that the #1 selling beer in the country would always survive. Schlitz didn’t. It’s decline as a major beer producer was both fast and surprising. It was my first introduction to the concept of change in the business world. They claim change is good. Such champions of regression are insensitive to the pain of a man wandering grocery aisles searching for a box of Wheaties. I have also witnessed the fall of another #1 product of 1950. As a boy on South 75th Street I lived a mere five blocks from Allis-Chalmers. It was the leader in tractor production. It also made turbines, generators, transformers and electric motors. It was a slower fade away but today at the corner of 70th and Greenfield only a plaque commemorating its role in the Manhattan Project remains of a once giant industrial complex.

Now, as to beer ads it is imprtant that you know it is widely believed that Schlitz started its decline by a decision to speed up the brewing process. Better beer by chemistry? At any rate, the taste of the beer changed. For the worse. (Proving again that not all change is good.) My memory is that an ad was devised that would halt the decline of Schlitz sales. A blind taste contest. On national television. What better venue than during a Super Bowl? With a retired NFL referee. I think the entire concept ended as vague and/or inconclusive. Schlitz sales never recovered.

Recently, the current number one beer producer of beer has ventured into promotion of an activist/political point of view in its own ad campaign. A certain amount of controversy has been stirred up. It seems reasonable to ask why do it. The intense reactions to the beer company’s adoption of a rather unorthodox approach to beer drinkers prompted my memory of that Super Bowl beer ad. That was a promotion intended to save a brand. It will be interesting to see if this 2023 beer sales promotion fosters or kills sales. One never knows what change may be happening right in front of our eyes. Is it a losing gamble to change horses (Clydesdales) in the midst of competition? Cheers.

WHAT DOES DEATH FEEL LIKE?

Every so often humor unexpectedly pays Papa a visit. Today is the second round of the Master’s Golf Tournament. Rain and trees fell in Augusta. And, just like clockwork my older brother called with his annual inquiry/complaint. “Why isn’t more of the Master’s televised?” It is a pet peeve of his. Other golf tournaments have near non-stop coverage. He hates that the Master’s is doled out in drips and drabs.

That is how another welcomed phone conversation started today. For some reason that brother and I have been on the same wave length all our lives. During a conversation a family friend looked at me and said she was curious about what is going on inside my head. I can’t say whether being on a mental path less traveled is an apt description of me but it does warm my heart. Situations that may seem routine to others often pull me towards humor or, more happily at times, towards the absurd. When others may hear me as a bit off target Brother John gets it.

Today a satisfied sense of humor arose at an opportune time. Aftre we had finished with the golf talk we went on to family, the Badgers, Aaron Rodgers, and the weather. And, to health of course. He’s been in poor health these past few years. My stiff joints pale in comparision to his medical issues. He said he was feeling quite poorly today. But, he says he usually feels lousy anyway. However, today felt different. A bit foreboding. He wondered if that is how it feels towards the end. Maybe today is the day kind of feeling.

Then he recovered and laughed, “I’ve never died before so I can’t rightly say. I’ll only get to do it once.”

I enjoyed our laugh together. We both got it. It’s a good way to look at life. Or, death. It was a good way to wrap up our conversation until next time.

PRINCIPLES TO PONDER

Year ten of Papa’s life stands out with vivid memories. Television was in its infancy and much of the news came from radio. However, what I most remember are from News Reels. These were often played at movie houses as well as at school assemblies. The events described might be from a week or more prior to showing but the narrator’s voice coupled with film of far away places captured my imagination.

The armistice ending the Korean War was of most significance in 1953. Communist China and North Korea’s invasion had at least been halted. Jubilant crowds in London for Queen Elizabeth’s coronation seemed quaintly out of date to my eyes. Except that it will be in color, I suspect the next coronation won’t be much different for me seventy years later. Conquering Mount Everest was feted as another unattainable goal finally reached. It was a human achievement to celebrate. There was still a fascination with “firsts”. Not that many years later I was just as inspired when JFK said we’d put a man on the moon in the 60’s. And, this country did.

Yet, so much of 1953 was also impacted by the fear generated by Socialist Totalitarians represented by the Soviet Communists. After stealing secrets to build the A-Bomb in the 1940’s, the USSR exploded a hydrogen bomb for effect in 1953. That year the Rosenbergs were executed for their roles as Soviet spies. The murderous monster Stalin also left planet earth that year. For a nine/ten year old kid I knew the significance of these events. I remember knowing the name of the other Soviet monster that died that year. Secret Police Chief Beria. It was as clear as a bell that one did not want to live under a government run by the main communist thugs; Stalin and Beria. We felt sorrow for and prayed for the plight of children behind the Iron Curtain.

Beria is a name you will hear following today’s indictment of a leading Presidential candidate/former President. The Soviet Secret Police Chief bragged ” show me the man and I will show you the crime.” An Attorney General/Supreme Court Justice appointed by FDR warned of the dangers represented by Beria’s disdain for fairness. Robert Jackson said prosecutors should not be out to get the person but rather chose prosecutions that are needed. Beware of reacting to public clammer/hysteria for scalps of opponents. Trump’s indictment is a “first” that does not inspire. A prosecutorial dam has been broken. It better turn out to be a near perfect case. If not, and it becomes seen as for political gain, who can doubt a precedent of fair game crimes might be used against future enemies.

You will hear much debate and perhaps see more turmoil about this pending criminal case as well others being teed up before the 2024 election. I am not holding my breath for calm discussions. I do hope that you become engaged and have the opportunity to think long and hard about legal issues. I remember reading many opinions from Justice Jackson in my casebooks. I have a great respect for the legal pillars of our constitutional republic. Never voluntarily give up the right to due process. Even a supposed political champion did not get it right by implying the defendant gets a chance to prove innocence in our system. That is wrong. America’s system is based on the presumption of innocence, Defendants do not have to prove it. Beware of sliipery talk on the basics. That is where informed voting by you comes in. I believe I gave each of you a pamphlet that contained the founding documents. Now, is a good time to read it/reread?

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