What Took You So Long [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Isn’t it the most human of things, to look at a horizon and wonder what’s over there? Who doesn’t look at the calendar and wonder what tomorrow will bring? Isn’t that the point of celebrating the New Year? Casting hope upon the water. Intending to knock items off the bucket list? Make a real commitment to run at the dream?

And…isn’t that also the very thing that keeps people locked in their routine? The fear of what might happen? The fear of what’s over there. The conservative impulse meets the progressive impulse. To walk at the horizon is to welcome change, to take a step toward the unknown.

What is the necessary bridge between wishful thinking and taking the first step toward change? The word, “possibility” is a cousin of the word, “unknown”. It cannot be a possibility if it is already in hand. What is necessary to transform the scary unknown into the optimistic possibility? What moment, what insight is required to stir resistance into aspiration into action?

I’ve written about this before. It is a life lesson so I revisit it from time-to-time. Once I stood on a cliff above a river, my friends in the water 70 feet below calling out, “Just do it! Jump!” I was terrified. Afraid of heights I climbed up the cliff to challenge myself. Once at the top my fear took over. My knees would not hold my weight. My friends became impatient, “Come on, we’re cold!” they shouted. I could not climb down. I could not step off the edge. I was frozen in place. And then, I heard this wisdom whispered into my ear: “If you put as much energy into jumping as you are into telling yourself that you are afraid, you would have jumped by now.” I stepped to the edge and jumped.

I remember nothing of the way down. I remember bobbing to the surface, my friends laughing, “Finally!” the cheered, “What took you so long?”

I am still afraid of heights. I am still afraid of many things. But I now have in my pocket a wisdom that helps when I am frozen: If you put as much energy into jumping…”

Lately I think about that leap everyday. As a nation we are standing on a cliff. We are less than 3 months to the most important vote of our lifetimes. The conservatives would have us filled with fear. They would have us sit on the cliff face and quake while they dismantle our democracy. They fill our streets with ICE in an attempt to purge us of our rich diversity. They paint our neighbors as enemies and rip choice from women. They pull out old boogeymen phrases like “communism” so we might point our bile at each other – a mechanism to keep us on the cliff face.

Voting is an action. We can vote for fear. We can vote for possibility. Our choice in November boils down to vote for one-party authoritarianism and ignore rampant corruption, or to reaffirm our democracy, a two-party system with accountability and checks on power baked into the design.

Democracy has always been – and always will be – an aspiration. It is not an achievement. It is an ongoing relationship between the people of the nation and possibilities that they pursue. One day, when we once again walk at the horizon of unequivocal equality-for-all – when we have finally-and-at-last purged the authoritarian impulse, the white supremacists and oligarchs who would have us cling to fear, surrender our volition, betray our rights and turn away from progress toward the ideal – one day we will ask ourselves, “What took us so long?”

read Kerri’s blogpost about WHAT COMES NEXT

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Too-Small-Of-A-Pot [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

We love our licorice plants so it was with great sadness that, after watching it struggle and become entangled in a mysterious webbing, that we decided it was time to start over. I removed it from its pot, noted how root-bound it had become and dumped it by the garage, our graveyard for withering plants at seasons end. A week later, while emptying grass clippings into the bin, I noticed that the licorice plant was showing signs of life. The mystery web was gone. The color was coming back into its leaves. I moved it into a spot where it would get more sun and decided to check in with it every few days. Out of the confinement of its pot, it thrived. A bigger pot, new soil, a different spot in the yard, and the licorice plant was in full resurrection-mode.

Not to stack metaphors but the new place for our rejuvenated licorice plant is on the old wicker chair that found a new home at the garage-end of our driveway. It has become a resting place for birds, squirrels and baby raccoons. A second chance rests on a second chance in the home of two people who each day are grateful that life somehow brought them a second chance.

In second chances, not only is there more appreciation for the day-to-day, the capacity to see the extraordinary in the ordinary, but there is a sense of deep gratitude – a source of deep gratitude – that was not available in the first go-round. Second chances verify that the impossible is possible. Second chances affirm that there is another side to even the most dire of circumstances; today’s tragedy is tomorrow’s boon so why not live it all as a boon?

I have been a plant that was de-potted and tossed by the garage. As it turns out, the problem was the pot. Being tossed was the best thing that could have happened although it felt devastating at the time. A little air, a little sun – and someone paying attention – it’s a magic formula.

Isn’t that the magic path for anyone in too-small-of-a-pot? And who hasn’t at one time or another been in too-small-of-a-pot?

read Kerri’s blogpost about A SECOND CHANCE

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Our Naked Truth [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“It’s been on my mind a lot lately,” she said. “The word veritas.”

Veritas.

Veritas is the Latin word for truth though it is more precise than the blanket word, “truth”. It denotes an alignment of words and actions with facts and yet it reaches beyond the hard science of fact into the metaphysics of morality . It is meant to be a core lived-value. One of The Four Agreements of Don Miguel Ruiz is “to be impeccable to your word,” say what you mean and mean what you say. Impeccability to your word is veritas.

Veritas is a Roman goddess “…often depicted as nuda veritas (naked truth), holding a hand mirror to show self-reflection and how things truly are without disguise.” (Wikipedia)

It goes without saying that Veritas is not high on the list of aspirations in these un-United States. We are awash in misinformation, propaganda, deception and lie. In Latin, our current value set is more Falsitas (untruth) than Veritas. In recent history we eschew the hand-mirror and bury ourselves in disguises.

Another yummy Latin word, Simulatio, meaning hypocrisy and deceit, brought a smile to me when I thought it could be the new name of GOP Elephant. It’s either Simulatio or a more considerate moniker: Mentis Morbum (mental illness).

We are in the midst of primary season, choosing the candidates that will run in the November midterm election. Veritas must be on the minds of millions of people. More than once I’ve heard a candidate say something like, “This is not a progressive or conservative issue. It is a human issue.” Hearing this phrase gives me some small measure of hope. It transcends partisan divides. Perhaps we-the-people are finally sick to death of Falsitas and are trying to find our way to common ground. Our shared values. Perhaps the distance between who-we say-we-are and how-we-act has become too vast. Perhaps the weight of the disguise has become to heavy to bear.

Perhaps our only route to survival – and health – as a democracy is by dropping the Falsitas and taking up the hand-mirror of Veritas and having a good long look at our naked truth. Perhaps we will have the courage to open our eyes see our full reflection. Perhaps we will deal honestly with our manufactured divide. Perhaps we will once-and-for-all put to rest the ugly white nationalism, the root of our Falsitas, the seed of our racial inequality, and at long last live without apology the Veritas at the heart of our foundational aspiration: a nation that believes to its core that all people – all people – are created equal.

Equality is not a conservative or progressive issue. It is a human issue.

read Kerri’s blogpost about VERITAS

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Unwelcome Party Advice [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

This past week I’ve been revisiting a well-worn simile: It’s like trying to change the tire while the car is still moving. Life doesn’t stop until, well, it stops, so in reality, all of life’s required tire changes happen while the car is still moving. Or, to hammer the point, life is what’s happening while changing the tire. Or, to ask a perfectly reasonable question: why not pull over and attend to what needs fixing? That just might extend your life.

These thoughts are the main reason I am seldom invited to parties. Mostly people simply want commiseration and cocktails when complaining about the difficulty of changing their life-tire or wishing that life would stop long enough to get out the jack. They do not want to be questioned about their refusal to pull over or to be reminded that life never stops (until it stops).

On the upside, I have learned to listen to my own unwelcome party advice. Last week we had “a hell of a week.” The inclement weather met hard deadlines, high emotion and a Dogga health scare. We are now old enough not to resist pulling over when the tire wobbles. We have become adept at resting or, more to the point, not fighting the car when it needs some attention. And, when needed, we can do repairs on the fly. We travel with a big roll of Gorilla tape and the faith that there will be a mechanic just-round-the-bend.

The trick is to suspend all thought or expectation of a distant destination. Sometimes recovery is the route. Sometimes recovery is the destination. Sometimes the expectation of driving while attempting to change the tire is the very thing that needs fixing.

read Kerri’s blog post about RECOVERY

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Get After It [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

What is the target? Get after it.

Is it a dream? An aspiration? Is it as simple as taking the next step?

Get after it.

Is it righting a wrong? Fixing what is broken? Is it seeking justice for an injury?

Get after it.

Is it helping others to survive? To thrive? Is it a course correction, a change of heart or perhaps a full-stop to regroup?

Get after it.

My long ago pal, Roger, once told me that he did not understand people who took their own life. “Why not do anything else?” he asked. “Why not do anything else? Anything.” Doing anything else is a target. It is the target. Live.

No matter what, turn and run into life. Pick a point. Run to that. Pick a rock and sit still. Drink in the enormity of it all. That is a worthy target: drink it in.

Get after it.

No matter what. Today is one of those days to remember that there are moments when everything falls apart just as there are moments when everything comes together. Neither are permanent. Neither are isolated. They are, in fact, two sides of the same coin. Tides.

One day, when everything was bleak, we saw a tiny crack of light; a door just barely open. We decided to walk toward it. We had a target. Sometimes having a target is all that sustains you. And what happens when you reach the door? Do you pull it open? Do you step through it? Do you step back and ponder? What’s the target?

I guess we’ll find out. Either way, we’ll get after it.

read Kerri’s blogpost about GET AFTER IT

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Bubbles, Bubbles Everywhere [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

A “useful idiot” is a derogatory political term for a person who is manipulated into supporting a cause or agenda without fully understanding its true goals or consequences. They inadvertently aid a political group that may actually oppose their own interests. ~ Merriam-Webster

Historians will write of maga as a coalition of useful idiots.

Farmers. Hispanic males. Blue collar workers. Red-hat-wearing-flag-waving-women. People. Despite a mountain of evidence to the contrary, despite an insurrection, a first go-round that left the world slack-jawed at the incompetence, these people bit the lie hook, line and sinker. They voted a second time – in some cases a third time – for their own demise and the ruination of the very system they believed they were voting to protect.

I’ve ask myself everyday, “How is this possible?” And then…

And then I watch on-the-street-interviews with hardcore maga-mates who are honestly shocked when shown images of January 6th. It is as if they’ve never seen them – because they haven’t. Their news source – their information source – edited the facts to maintain the illusion within their bubble.

I am agog at the legion of Hispanic males who voted for a candidate who promised mass-deportation. What bubble gave them the illusion that masked immigration agents running amok, targeting brown and black people for deportation, would not impact them? What bubble gave them the illusion that they and their families would not be the target of the horror?

The current occupant of the White House destroyed the farm economy in his first term. What info-bubble made is possible for them to once again vote for the man, the party and “policies” so ruinous to their livelihood? The number of farm bankruptcies in the second quarter of 2025 was double the number of bankruptcies for the entire year of 2024″. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…

I shake my head in utter disbelief at the Joe Rogans, the right wing media who are now gobsmacked that inflation is rising, that we are in yet another forever war, that this administration is throwing the full weight of the government behind protecting the Epstein Class, that billionaires are getting wealthier while the American dream is farther and farther out of reach for the rest of the nation. Why are they now surprised? They voted for it. They cheered it into existence.

What bubble prevented them from seeing the obvious? The grift. The lies. The corruption. The incompetence. Project 2025, the blueprint for fascism, was not hidden. What bubble promotes dross as valuable?

It’s possible that we’ve found the Achilles Heel of the 1st Amendment. None of us are impervious to misinformation. What happens when the right of free speech, the protected expression of opinion, is confused with the concept of “news”? What happens when fiction is juicier and more profitable than fact? Confirmation bias for you and for me. A people no longer seeking the truth, but opinions with which we agree. Bubbles, bubbles, here and there. Useful idiots everywhere.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BUBBLES

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Live To See Another Day [Davids blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Kerri and I do almost everything together which is ideal until we go to the department store to buy new bras. For me, it is a perilous undertaking. The ladies sneer at me the moment I step foot into the bra department. It is no-mans land. It is the place women go to escape the dude-o-sphere and deal with the baseline realities of womanhood. I’ve learned that, in this clear and present danger-zone, I have only two paths for survival: 1) try to disappear. On the surface, disappearing seems like a wise option since the aggression from other bra-shoppers is palpable and violence is a real possibility. However, I’ve learned from experience that I could become the invisible man, a tiny mouse, and they’d still know my exact location, they track my every step. The danger does not disappear even if I do.

The better option is #2: become the efficient executive assistant to my bra-shopping wife. Survival means keeping her organized through a very difficult and complex series of decisions, refiling the rejects, pulling options for consideration, bolstering her courage when she is overwhelmed, reinforcing her ideals of beauty when she launches into inevitable self-denigration. Slowly, I become the secret envy of every woman in the department. I know that beneath their disdain, they are wishing they, too, had a helpful witness to their travails, an executive assistant to make their task a wee-bit easier. I am careful to be all business and not to become cheerful. No matter how helpful, cheerful men in the bra department is a step-too-far.

I know I am safe when, after several minutes of following along, holding an armful of possible options, I say, “What about the Bali?” to which Kerri, knowing the danger I am in, replies, “No. I like the Warners.” And I say, “Right, Bali can be too fancy-schmancy.” For a brief moment the frowning mouths twitch into smiles and I know I will live to see another day.

To cement my survival I purposefully pick up the wrong bra and suggest, “What about this one?” Kerri takes the briefest of glances and says, “No. No underwire, remember?”

“Right!” I declare and add, “I always forget about the dangers of the underwire. I mean, who would think that was a good idea! Bras must be designed by men!” The angry shoppers look away to hide their amusement. I say to myself, but loud enough to be heard, “No underwire. Stay away from fancy-schmancy. Got it!”

read Kerri’s blog post about FANCY-SCHMANCY

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Just In Case [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Just in case you were confused, there is no such thing a clean coal.

Just in case you were confused, mining and drilling in National Parks destroys the park. The purpose of the “park” designation is to protect the land from commercial exploitation.

Just in case you were confused, the Environmental Protection Agency was meant to protect human health by protecting the environment. Having been gutted, industry now considers you and me as acceptable losses in their pursuit of profit.

Just in case you were confused, the CDC, The Center for Disease Control and Prevention was meant to protect public health and safety. Having been gutted, the severely reduced CDC now “benefits specific political, corporate, and decentralized entities. This primarily includes pharmaceutical and supplement companies marketing alternative or deregulated products, certain private healthcare conglomerates, and political advocates promoting decentralization over federal oversight.” (A-EYE) In other words, corporate profit and quackery triumph at the expense of public health.

Can you see the pattern? The same agenda has been applied to every-now-obliterated government protection agency. FEMA, The National Weather Service, USAID, Veterans Affairs, Consumer Finance Protection, The Social Security Administration, Medicaid…Privatization over people, profit over principle, pillage over prudence. And for good measure, destroying the Department of Education guarantees generations of uneducated people; an ignorant populace is more easily exploited.

As John K used to say, “Penny-wise and pound-foolish.” A new brand motto for the republican party? They love hoarding all the pennies while sending their not-quite-sincere-thoughts-and-prayers to the future.

(for a template of government that works for people, merely flip the current agenda on its head: public service that serves the public rather than corporate profiteering. It is not so hard to imagine.)

read Kerri’s blogpost about THEIR QUEST

*Fool by Christopher Wool

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Somebody. Nobody. [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“The comparatively affluent can withstand the moral effect of being subsidized and supported by government; not so the poor.” ~John Kenneth Galbraith, The Culture of Contentment

It is among the greatest bait-and-switch tactics played on the American public: While the Reagan republicans and the generations that followed crowed that Welfare Queens were robbing the public, 50 trillion dollars moved from the lower 90% into the personal pockets of the 1%. The misuse and abuse of the system was not – and is not – the woman using food stamps to feed her child.

Do you remember the cry, “Waste, fraud, and abuse!” It is the same strawman/woman tactic used to sell The BIG UGLY BILL that is now stripping medicaid, healthcare and food assistance from millions of citizens – all to provide a tax cut for the morbidly wealthy. Consider this: Elon Musk’s personal wealth is built on billions and billions of dollars of government funding, subsidies and tax breaks. His DOGE bros successfully killed any and all government oversight over his business practices and use of tax dollars. His morbid wealth is accelerated by tax breaks and a tax code that shifts the tax burden of the nation onto the poorest citizens.

It is a corrupt band that only has one note in its repertoire: the same gross stereotype, variation on the Welfare Queen, is fueling the rampant misinformation that now leads to mass deportation of immigrants or, to be more specific, the deportation of black and brown immigrants, people who fled violence and came to this nation seeking a better life. The Welfare Queen tactic worked so well to shift wealth into the hands of the few that it is now being used to vilify immigrants. We hear that they are “soaking up tax dollars, afforded benefits that we are not, depleting resources meant for us…”

“Without fail, each Tax Day a prevalent myth resurfaces that conceals the truth about immigrants’ contributions to federal, state, and local taxes. Bolstered by social media and other outlets, it misleadingly asserts that immigrants, particularly those who are undocumented, evade taxes. The facts don’t back up these claims.”

The facts have never backed up these claims.

White nationalist elites are slobbering at the success of their modified Welfare Queen smear campaign, the rapid erection of concentration camps, the shameful support of their false-narrative by the court Supremes. All the while, the president and his men grift and rob us blind; his personal wealth has increased 4 billion dollars since inauguration day.

When fox news poisons the brains of their audience with a cry of “Socialism” or “Communism”, they are utilizing the same stereotype to fuel the same intention: create a fact-free-diversion by fueling fear, all the while moving the wealth of the nation – and the constitutional protections of the nation – into fewer and fewer hands.

When the current occupant of the White House and his Project 2025 co-conspirators cry that illegals are stealing our elections or that women are ruining our nation and should not have to right to vote or that people from Haiti are all rapists and riddled with AIDS…it is the same game, the same gross stereotype used to distract and deflect the public from the real rapists of our society.

It’s an age-old magician’s trick with a pickpocket intention: distract and steal.

Imagine the public good 50 trillion dollars could provide – could have provided – if it was actually dedicated to serving the public? The best healthcare for all. The best education in the world. Safe and secure bridges and roads. Stimulus for small business. World class research. A solvent social security and secure Medicare system. A stable and educated populace that would recognize when they were being fleeced.

Here’s the greater point. Terms like Welfare Queen are lobbed like bombs at us because they dehumanize people. They explode a victim fantasy in the minds of the easily distracted and render the target of their slander as less-than-somebody (“The welfare queen is taking your money!”). Sadly, in the process, we dehumanize ourselves, too. In “doing unto others,” we do the same onto ourselves. We become less than somebody, a disposable people who cannot afford housing or food or the gas in our cars. An easily controlled throw-away mass perpetually fighting each other, blind to the orange man and his tech-bro-party of urchins actively, gleefully, picking our pockets.

There is only one line remaining between our future as a class of nobodies or as a nation of somebodies, a government of, by and for the people, is to vote. Our vote in November will affirm that we are somebody – or it will deliver us into the hands of those who daily reduce us, strip us of our rights and believe we do not matter. Welfare Queen. Illegal. Antifa. Dumocrat. Loser.

Vote as if your life and our democracy depended on it – because it does.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SOMEBODY

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Learn The Dance [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

In a confluence of wonderment, local celebrations for Juneteenth, the summer solstice, and Chicago Pride all landed on the same day. And it was a gorgeous day, ideal for uplifting and honoring the most marginalized people in our society. This merging of revelry had an air of push back: as the powers-that-be might try to scrub the rich color from our history, our diversity runs deeper than skin color or sexual orientation, our desire for equality dwarfs their white supremacy. The people took to the streets to parade and sing and dance.

We took the train to Chicago to see our son perform at Pride. It was a mass of humanity, packing the streets, surrounding the stage, pulsing together to the beat. It was impossible to stand still.

In a moment I was struck with a thought: looking across the crowd, bodies of every shape, size, color and preference, rejoicing together. There was no judgement, no emphasis on difference. There was complete support for and acceptance of individuality and unique expression. People proud of their bodies and their choices. A community that has – and still has to – fight for every inch of equal rights and recognition. My thought? “This is what morality looks like.” All of those who pull verses from a bible and claim moral superiority are, in fact, interested exclusively in superiority. As we are witness to again and again, there is no morality on their pedestal.

The people dancing and sweating and reveling and making way for each other to BE WHO THEY ARE, as they are, in a world with love enough to hold an ideal called equality – and live it – they are the keepers of the promise and the light. They are a community, forged by hot prejudice, that cares for each other, protects and serves each other. They are the change, dancing together in their own little corner of the world, hoping someday those living in fear and judgment on the false safety of their pedestals, step down, join the party and learn the dance of humanity.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BE THE CHANGE

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