Showing posts with label hillary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hillary. Show all posts

Thursday, November 10, 2016

My Open Letter to America.


I am an FDR Democrat and I have been wandering around in a daze since the Presidential election on Tuesday. I had expected that the election would be close, but I did not believe that Trump would win.

Over the past couple of days I have cried and I will probably cry more in the days to come. I have been imagining a gestapo secret police state funded by our tax dollars and waving our flag. I have been imagining an America where people who believe what I believe would be rounded up and put on trains and killed. That is the version of Trump’s America I have been thinking about and I have been asking myself how that could possibly happen here?

Today I realized that it has not happened. It certainly could, but it did not happen today and I doubt it will happen tomorrow, and - this is the important part - I do not believe it will happen in January, in 2017 or 2018, or ever.

Maybe I am naive.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe that Trump is a feckless thug and a bully and I believe that he is a very real danger to our United States of America. However, more than that, I believe that he is a self-interested opportunist. He’s not a populist and anyone who voted for him thinking that, has been duped. He does not care about the middle class or the working people of this country. And while I agree that he is a racist, I don’t think he actually cares that much. He does not care about anyone who is not named Donald J. Trump. The border wall would be virtually impossible to actually build and I do not think it will actually get built because he doesn’t actually care about it.

Donald Trump only wanted to get elected President. I don’t think he cares about the next four years.

I’m not saying that nothing will happen. Plenty will happen and it will be bad. The next two years are going to be a horror show. Trump will put someone on the Supreme Court. Taxes will be cut, public programs will be defunded. Obamacare will likely get repealed in pieces, though some provisions are too popular to completely disappear. Women and minorities of every kind will be mistreated in some form. None of this is right. None of this good. None of this is fair. But these are things we can fight and I am ready for those fights. I am not going to apologize for the things I believe. I am every bit an American. But because I am an American, I am willing to admit that my side lost. We had more votes, but we lost the electoral college and that’s how it works in America.

We live in a country that elected Donald Trump fair and square. The result of that is going to be an increase in global warming, an increase in fear, a growing national debt, and a weakened, less-respected America on the world stage. That is just reality and I agree, it is awful.

However, it is not the worst-case-scenario. The worst case scenario is the utter descent of America into a fascist nightmare. I do not believe that is going to happen. Trump is a selfish and silly little man, but he is not actually a Hitler. Hitler cared enough about his anti-semitism to become a monster. Trump doesn’t care that much. He is a snake-oil salesman, all he cares about is selling his snake-oil, and America bought it. Those Americans who voted for him will very quickly figure out that he is not going to keep his promises to them, because he does not keep promises, because he never cared about those promises in the first place.

The people who are cheering him this week will hate him next year. They are angry and they are afraid, so they voted for someone who told them what they wanted to hear. That is all that has happened here, the quarter of this country that elected Donald Trump got played. Because tell me, does this make sense: They revolted against the establishment by voting for a rich New Yorker who used to be a Democrat?

The last 36 hours I couldn’t figure out how people I know and love could have voted to end our democracy, I realized today that none of them see it that way. For those of us who lost, this is a devastating and existential defeat. But to those who won, it’s just a win.

If you are reading this and you voted for Trump, I think you made a mistake and I think you will realize that soon. If you’re reading this and you voted for Hillary, take a deep breath, I promise you that the sun will come up tomorrow.

In the weeks and months and years to come, the one thing I am sure of is that this country is going to change quite a lot. I want to do my part to make sure it changes for the better. I think you want that too. So while we have difficult days ahead, they need not be the end days. Donald Trump is a punchline to a not very funny joke, however he is not a demon. I, for one, refuse to be afraid of a man that ridiculous.

To my Trump friends who are tired of getting called racists and sexists and xenophobes, now will be your chance to prove you aren’t those things.

To my Hillary friends who feel that the light has gone out of the world, I am here with this one little candle and I will keep it burning as long as there is blood in my body and a beat in my heart.

God bless America.


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Thursday, September 29, 2016

Dispatches from My Life Now.


I have been in Portland less than two weeks. It feels like I am at summer camp. It does not feel like I live here. I think it is possible though that one day it might feel that way. I never really felt like I lived in LA even though I lived in and around it for almost ten years.


The abstract notion of living in Portland has been very exciting. Not because of the Portlandia, hipster, Brooklyn-of-the-West stuff, but because I’d learned about the way the city had consciously planned itself. I learned about the “urban growth boundary” instituted to minimize sprawl, I’d read a little about their zoning which emphasizes mixed use development, I’d read that their zoning generally requires that on urban and commercial streets there be windows at street level in order to avoid the creation of lonely, unpleasant urban canyons. Detached housing is required to have a smaller setback from the sidewalk, which means that your very livings space is closer to the people moving around in the city, making life part of the city, not isolated from it. Homes do not have the wide, useless front lawns I’m accustomed to in California. Here, in the 1970s, they actually removed a freeway to create the Waterfront Park that runs along the western bank of the Willamette River. Can you believe that?! They REMOVED a freeway! They must have known that dirty truth of civil engineering: that additional freeways added to urban areas tend to create more congestion, not alleviate existing congestion.  


I used to bitch and moan a lot about what a poorly planned and un-livable place greater Los Angeles is. Portland seems to have done all the things I said LA needed to do. I’m not trying to create an LA vs PDX binary here - after all, the population of Portland is about 600,000 and the population of the LA metro is about 157 gazillion, so the comparison would not be a terrible fair one - I am just telling you what I’m experiencing on the ground.


Speaking of which, because I have not had much to do these past two weeks, I have been doing a lot of exploring on foot. I have always liked to engage with a place at the ground level. Here are some some things I have discovered lately:


POLITICS. That Pacific Northwest libertarianism I’d heard of is very much real, though I imagine that anyone possessing it would object to the label “libertarian” because this also seems to be such a liberal place. More than once I have heard the distinction made between “Bernie Democrats” and “Hillary Democrats”, as though that is as the length of the political spectrum here. I heard a local politician described as “too conservative for Portland” because he is “more of a Hillary.” I’ve seen college students with “Big Government Sucks” buttons while walking around the beautiful campus of this (rather expensive) state institution. I can’t get my finger on the pulse of this yet. They are repelled by Trump-ish nativism nationally, but deeply angered by the influx of other Americans into their own city. A city which is in many ways a victim of its own success. It is precisely because of the heavy handedness of their municipal government that this city is as beautiful, livable, and appealing as it is, which is why people want to live here. I understand them though. At a party the other night I met three separate people who were evicted from their apartments in 2013. Apparently that was a very bad year to be poor in Portland because the influx of out-of-state people and money drove landlords to develop some new strategies. The big old houses out in the neighborhoods of Portland that had long since been sliced up as rental spaces were suddenly worth more (again) as single family homes and the resulting sell-off was essentially incentivised by the fact that the city had no rent control and no mechanisms to ensure that landlords were behaving fairly and ethical, because no such laws had ever really been needed before. Anyway, I am still trying to figure all that out.


PEOPLE. Despite the politics of it all, people really are very nice here. It isn’t a hug-convention on the bus or anything, but people are polite, personable, and seemingly genuine. Even friends-of-friends I have never met have been amazingly generous with their time and information. I’m humbled by it. I have been the recipient of more generosity in my first two weeks here than in my first two months in LA.


PARKS. There are parks everywhere! And I have not even explored very far beyond the South West quadrant of the city. They take their public spaces seriously up here. There are big parks, small parks, urban parks, nature parks, you name it, they got it. Every day I walk down to the Pioneer Courthouse Square and every day there is something happening there. A farmers market, a protest, a band, there is always something. And people just sit around, they simply spend time in the public realm and it really is as community-building as it sounds.


WATER. Often those parks have water in them. This place loves its fountains. I can think of five parks within easy walking distance of my apartment that have water features for children to dance and play in. It must be lovely here in the depth of summer. Jumping water and dancing water and waterfalls and wading pools. The drought-stricken Californian in me is still freaking out about it.


HOMELESS. Okay, real talk here for a minute. There are a lot of homeless people here. Now I will admit, this is the most urban that I have ever lived and there is always a degree of homelessness that goes along with living in the core of a city. But I have been to other places. I have been to Downtown LA and I have been to Manhattan and Denver and I spent the last few months in Ventura (which has a large homeless population), but somehow it does seem like the homeless population of Portland is by percentage larger than it should be given the population of the city. I will say that some of the homeless population here seems to be shockingly young and able-bodied and is likely tied to the general influx of people into the PDX area. That, coupled with the housing problems I described above, likely has a lot to do with that nativist sentiment I also described above. To its credit, the city seems to be aware of the homeless problem, but does not seem sure of how to deal with it.
MASS TRANSIT. I am a lover of mass transit and down in the city center where I am there are no less than THREE SEPARATE forms of mass transit. And that is not even counting the orange city bicycles you can rent all over Downtown. I can be standing IN THE AIRPORT in less than an hour because the light rails runs straight into the airport. I have been to each quadrant of the city in the last two weeks and it was always cheap and easy to get where I was going. I have sold my car, so confident am I in the mass transit here.


MALLS. So far I have not encountered a traditional shopping mall. I’m sure that they exist somewhere, but I have not found one yet. The local Target occupies the second and third stories of a building Downtown. I found a fantastic street out at Burnside and 23rd that is like a deconstructed shopping mall. It is as if developers (hampered by the city zoning requirements) took a small town main street and filled it with the stores from a mall, but without evicting any of the small business that existed there. So the effect is a street of six or seven blocks that has an Urban Outfitter next door to a local coffee shop, next to a Lush, next to a pub. The result is charming (and tourist-friendly) and contributes to that ongoing theme of public spaces.


TRASH. I am so confused by the trash situation. Here is what I can gather so far: recycling must be divided between “glass and jars” and “paper, metal, plastic, bottles, and tubs”. That is not that confusing on its own, but my building only has places for the recycling. I am still trying to find my dumpster. ALSO, my apartment came with a composting bucket. It is a plastic tub with a lid and a handle. It looks like a small cooler. This is for anything organic or tainted by the organic, so coffee grounds, egg shells, corn husks, or what have you. No idea what I do with the bucket once it is full.


DRINKING. There are bars and breweries and pubs everywhere. If one were so inclined one could drink all day every day until they simply died. I can walk either north or south and have a beer in my hand in less than two blocks. It seems to just be like that here.  


BUILDINGS. Remember how a couple years ago there was that article (was it in The Atlantic?) about how the Pacific Northwest is due for a big earthquake? Do you remember how freaked out people were? Being from California I was all like, “What’s the big deal?” Well now that I have gotten the chance to look at Portland, I see what the concern is: in the case of an earthquake, this place is fucked. Everything here is built out of brick or nice old flaky wood. I would like to imagine that the fancy newer buildings that have sprouted up along the river have some earthquake resilience built into them, but I suspect that unless the state or city requires them, why would a developer spend the extra money? The pretty, old, tree-lined neighborhoods I’ve seen on the east side of the river are just going to collapse like Lincoln Log huts. The narrow one-way streets of the city center would become impassably choked in the event ruble spills out into them. Walking around the city I have seen brick and stone foundations cracked with a century of freeze-and-thaw cycles. Even the poured concrete foundations I have looked at seem insubstantial, but I am not a civil engineer. I’m just a guy who likes to worry. OH! Let us not forget that since they have “weather” up here, most houses and buildings apparently have heating oil tanks in their basements. So that surely won’t cause a problem when the big one hits.

BUILDINGS (Part II). My apartment does not have a shower. It has a tub. Only a tub. The building is so old that the bathroom was not built for a shower. The walls are just regular plaster walls. Hypothetically if I somehow installed a shower head (which I am explicitly barred from doing), the walls would quickly start to peel and wilt. This means that I am taking a lot of baths and since I always liked to shower in the mornings, it means that I am sometimes taking a morning bath. Like I’m fucking Henry VIII or something. It feels weird and wrong. I’m not sure that I will ever get used to that.

I think that is all I have to tell you for now ...

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Sunday, September 21, 2014

An Odd Dream I Had Recently.


An odd dream I had recently:

During a nap the other day I had a dream that I was a grown man in the house that I grew up in and that I needed to change my clothes because there was some sort of important party outside. So I went to my old room (the one that I shared with two different brothers at two different times). I knew that I didn’t have any clean clothes so I would need to dig in the hamper. In my room there was a bed blocking the closet (which was not actually in the proper place anyway). My father was laying on the bed playing a videogame and so I had to climb over him to him to get to the hamper. I was very apologetic about it. I started digging through the hamper and at some point it occurred to me that the party going on in the backyard was actually some sort of political nominating convention and everyone was wearing sleepwear with the names of their candidates. Well I found a pair of Obama long johns and tossed them aside. I was actually looking for my Hillary boxers, but couldn’t seem to find them. Well eventually I did (all the way at the bottom) and I tossed those aside as well. Then I turned back to crawl back over my father, but he wasn’t my father anymore, he was President Obama laying there playing video games and so I apologized appropriately as I crawled quickly over him. Then however I realized how awkward it was that right there with him in the room I was about to put on my Hillary boxers and go out to the party. I remember feeling very guilty and uncomfortable about this, so I stepped into a different closet (which is actually the closet that physically existed in that room when I grew up) and I changed into my Hillary boxers out of his eyeline. Then I was about to head out to the convention in the back yard but when I came out of the closet something had changed and even though it was still my boyhood bedroom, it was also the rehearsal set for the Jimmy Fallon show where I was working now, apparently. I like Jimmy Fallon and I think he’s a good late-night host, but I don’t revere the guy or anything, so it was weird that I felt so nervous. Quickly though I realized that I wasn’t me exactly, I was just some person who worked there and Jimmy was sitting there on the bed and I sat down next to him because I had been working up the nerve to tell him that I could do more on the show and that I wanted to work my way up. At some point while I’m telling him this though, the bed is not a bed anymore, it is some sort of flying steel craft, like some sort soaring garbage scow in the San Francisco of a Star Trek movie and Jimmy and I are both clinging onto its metal shell while we are whizzing through the air and I am yelling over the howl of the wind how hard I am willing to work, but this whole time we are also shooting Nerf guns at each other and neither one of us seems concerned about the height, and the speed we’re traveling at, but I have a tight black ball of nerves in my gut, as if this is the most important conversation we have ever had and I’m saying to him something along the lines of, “I can do really well as a PA and then I would like to start submitting pieces to the writers’ room because I think that you will all see that I can write good stuff and then I will be in the writers’ room and then I will pretty quickly end up running the writers’ room and then I will be the writer and I will do all of the writing.” At some point in all that I blinked though or something because I’m not on a floating garbage scow anymore, I’m actually sitting in a very dark room that looks like something out of Blade Runner  and it isn’t Jimmy Fallon I’m talking to anymore, it is actually Katie Holmes with a very serious face (though I suspect that Jimmy Fallon has simply hidden inside of her body) and she says, with a marginally surprised but otherwise emotionless face, “Oh, no. We’re not even considering you for anything like that.”

And then I literally woke up with a start. It was the way people wake up in movies. I woke up that way. I usually do not remember my dreams for more than a few minutes after I wake up, but this one stuck with me. I do not know why. All of my dreams tend to be this chaotic and exhausting though. Just once I would like to have a dream about taking a nap in a meadow.

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