Donald Trump. The Teflon Candidate.

News came today that after Donald Trump's boorish performance in the first Republican Presidential debate, his poll numbers increased. At this point I believe that if pictures of Trump having sex with Bill Clinton were to surface, the headline on Drudge would be, "Trump Gains Support Among Homosexuals, latest poll finds..." The man can apparently do no wrong with a rather sizable section of the electorate.

This is very much unchartered territory. American has never seen a candidate like Donald Trump. A man that doesn't even know when he actually became a Republican, and won't promise not to run as an independent, killing any Republican chances for victory...is currently the front runner for the Republican nomination. His supporters seem to believe that his one qualification to become President is the fact that he speaks his mind and isn't politically correct. It is true that he seems to speak his mind. But, what if his mind is a place wherein no coherent thought resides? Suppose his only policy ideas turn out to be being rude to people, and calling women bimbos on Twitter all night? Well, the answer to the question right now seems to be...so what?

This all brings me to this disturbing thought. Suppose that what is going on right now is the cumulative result of fifteen years of an American culture that has been so relentlessly celebrity-obsessed, we can no longer distinguish celebrity from politics? After Hollywood has beaten us over the head with one reality show after another where fortunes have been made by people who have become famous simply for being...famous, do we now expect our politics to work like realty TV where the loudest, most insipid, most over the top jerks become the biggest, richest stars? Has Donald Trump become the Kim Kardashian of Presidential politics? Everybody knows she's a narcissistic, empty headed drip, but everything she touches turns to gold so, she's still a star. Money makes right. 

If anyone else who has run for the presidency in my lifetime ever said the things that Donald Trump has said over the last couple of months, he or she would be the laughing stock of the country and drummed out of polite society. But, it's August 10, 2015, 15 months before Election Day, and nobody is laughing. At this point I would rather believe the conspiracy theories about his candidacy than face what might be the truth. I would rather believe that Trump is actually a Manchurian candidate cooked up by the Clintons to destroy Republican chances. That way I don't have to face the possible truth that we have lost the adult ability to be a serious people when faced with the most serious of our civic decisions. Have we really decided to throw our support behind the loudest, meanest, most juvenile candidate of all time on the recommendation that he isn't afraid to say what he thinks? Rudeness is not a policy. Bad manners isn't a plan. Bombast isn't the same as leadership. But don't tell Donald Trump. So far, it's worked like a charm.

A Healthy Exercise

Usually people wait until moments of personal crisis before counting their blessings. Mostly it's because, we hate to consider how fortunate we are. Yes, I know that sounds counter-intuitive, but the fact is that it's much more satisfying to wallow in self pity than it is to acknowledge how good we actually have it in life. The entire exercise of being thankful tends to remind us of how inconsequential our so-called problems are. So, most of us would rather dwell on the negative. Don't believe me? Read a newspaper.

Right now in my life, there are no pressing issues, no existential crisis afoot that is causing me to question everything. In fact, aside from a couple of degenerative disks, I've got it pretty good. Of course, everything could change in a flash. On my way to work this morning I might be the only eye witness to a traffic accident involving  a van full of #BLACKLIVESMATTER protesters and a pick up truck carrying a huge confederate flag in the back driven by a Donald Trump supporter. Just like that, my life could be thrown into chaos! So, I feel inclined to strike while the iron is hot and list out every blessing of life that has come my way...now...before I get rear-ended by a Bernie Sanders supporter who decides to sue me for driving a car that enraged her because of my naked white privilege.

1. For 57, I'm pretty darned healthy.

2. I am married to a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman.

3. I have two incredible children who combined haven't given me a minutes worth of trouble their entire lives.

4. I have a large and boisterous family that love me and have my back.

5. I have the best, most supportive in-laws in the world.

6. Pam and I have accumulated some of the most amazing friends over the years.

7. I live in an incredible time in world history, where technological advances have made my life so much easier than any generation in history.

8. I am an American and as such am heir to a legacy of freedom and liberty unmatched in human history.

9. In over 31 years of marriage, Pam and I have only lived in two houses.

10. My chosen profession has rewarded me handsomely.

11. I was taught the difference between right and wrong so thoroughly by my parents, that bad behavior on my part is completely without excuse.

12. For all but a handful of my years on this earth I have enjoyed the company of a dog.

13. I have benefitted from a Christian faith that within the deepest level of my heart provides me with answers to the most vexing questions of life. 

14. Cajun food.

15. Hot rolls with butter.

16. Hot peach cobbler that has crunchy edges, with vanilla ice cream melting on top.

17. Christmas morning.

18. Baseball.

19. Maine

20. Hatteras Island.

21. Coffee.

22. The Beatles

23. Ludwig Von Beethoven.

24. The opportunity I had, through borrowed money, to get an education. It was the best investment I ever made.

25. The great influences on my kids' lives, Jeremy Welborn, Sherri Matthews, Deen Entsminger.

26. Great books.

27. Netflix.

I could list out many more, of course, but #10 is calling.

Inside Out.....a movie review

Pixar is a movie studio that specializes in crafting animated films that are advertised to lure in the kiddies but whose primary objective is to make their parents cry in public. Their latest offering, Inside Out continues this tradition and throws in guilt for no charge!

The film's opening line summarizes the plot nicely, "Have you ever wondered what's going on inside the head of an eleven year old girl?"  An unanimous "YES" rises up from every parent in the auditorium. For the next hour and a half Pixar shows us. Basically, our little Riley's brain headquarters is a factory of sorts filled with memories, short and long term memories that are stored in a giant colorful warehouse. These memories are divided into five personality islands, family, friendship, goofiness, honesty and hockey.  At the control panel of her consciousness are five competing emotions, brought to life as fuzzy, color coded little people with huge eyes and four fingers. There's Joy, whose sole mission in life is to keep all of the other emotions away from the controls and see to it that Riley is happy all day long. Then there's Fear, Anger and Disgust, all doing their bit at the appropriate time. Finally, there's the insufferably adorable and bespectacled Sadness, who is always ruining everything and generally making Joy's life difficult. It's all quite funny and very clever and for the most part great fun. When our little Riley is learning to skate on the pond out back in her Minnesota home, or rough housing with her parents as a toddler, it is a satisfying, escapist night out at the movies. But when Dad takes his start-up venture, along with his family out to San Francisco, everything changes. Eleven year old Riley must deal with everything from brochilli pizza, to having no furniture for a week because the moving van went to the wrong state, to being the new girl at school, all at once. Suddenly, Joy must make way to lots of Fear, Disgust, Anger, and especially Sadness. 

Let me here add a quibble or two I had with the premise of this fine film. First, if I didn't know better, this film would have me believe that our entire existence on this planet is governed exclusively by our emotions, patently untrue. Secondly, only five emotions? No Guilt,or Envy? How come Pride makes no appearance? But, whenever I catch myself taking issue with the finer points of psychology, I must remind myself...it's a movie and an animated one at that. It wasn't very long ago when these things were called cartoons, so chill out.

Riley has a rough go of it in San Francisco, and seriously, who wouldn't? Soon she becomes sullen, withdrawn, and for reasons that escape me, Joy and Sadness leave headquarters on some wild plot goose-chase that leaves Fear, Anger and Disgust in charge. Predictably, Riley is soon a hot mess. In a scene that I still cannot get out of my head, Riley is sitting at the dinner table being peppered with questions about her day by her well meaning parents. Meanwhile, back at head quarters, Anger grabs the controls. Dad presses the unresponsive Riley for an answer, telling her he doesn't much care for her tone and attitude. Inside of Dads brain, the emotions at his control panel are determined to get tough. "Put the foot down....THE FOOT IS DOWN! Repeat, THE FOOT IS DOWN!" Riley gives in to Anger, explodes in a rage and runs up the stairs to her furniture-less room.

It was at this point that I found myself reliving every failure I had as a Father, every moment when I lost my temper. The time I warned Kaitlin that if she didn't stop throwing a fit ( or merely crying, as her Mother would describe it later), I wouldn't let her go trick-or-treating. She didn't do either that night. I won the battle and lost the war. Or the time I flew into a rage at my crying child who had hurt my feelings by not wanting to leave the sitter. This scene allowed me to relive those failures through the eyes of a child who wasn't capable of articulating her feelings. It brought tears to my eyes.

By the time Joy and Sadness finally make it back to headquarters, Riley has bought a bus ticket back to Minnesota. This is where a beautiful truth of this film comes to life. We learn that life isn't always about joy and happiness, that in fact, sadness is also part of life, not something to be avoided at all cost. Through times of great sadness, others get the chance to come along side of us, to comfort us, to commiserate. We come out on the other side of sadness a better, more complete, more understanding person. We discover just how valuable our family and friends are to us, something we would never understand without those difficult moments.

So, Pixar did it again. You would have thought I would have learned my lesson with Toy Story. As the credits rolled, I was choked up, Pam was crying. 

Wonderful movie!

Winners and Losers

Random observations about last night's debate:

Donald Trump did absolutely nothing to persuade me that he is anything other than the bombastic blowhard that I thought he was. He is an intellectual lightweight, politically incoherent, and by his answer to the night's first question, willing to see Hillary Clinton elected by refusing to forego a run as an independent. Oh, and what exactly do you call that hair color?

I felt sorry for Ben Carson, probably the finest man on that stage. He is clearly a very smart man, but seemed totally out of his depth, overmatched by the event. 

Ted Cruz might be the best debater in the field, but he sounded strident to me.

Jeb Bush started poorly but did get better as the night wore on. It seemed like every answer to every question began with the same phrase, "As Governor of the state of Florida...," which got annoying. I know he's raised a ton of money, but the thought of electing a third Bush is too horrible to contemplate. Family dynasties are fine on PBS, not in American politics.

How the heck did Mike Huckleberry get on the stage and Carly Fiorina didn't?

Chris Christie showed flashes of the thing that attracted me to him two years ago when his town hall performances in New Jersey got everyone's attention. Nobody is quicker on their feet, nobody is better in unscripted moments. His exchange with Rand Paul about data gathering and fighting terrorism was the highlight of the night, terse, intense and riveting stuff. Both men made good solid points, but Christie seemed to win the moment.

Speaking of Rand Paul, he disappointed. I like him. His views are the closest to mine from top to bottom. But there are times when he comes across as a bit of a petulant whiner. When the camera caught him rolling his eyes at something...well, it wasn't a good look.

Scott Walker did fine, I guess. But he looked small to me for some reason, as if the moment was too big for him.

John Kasich benefitted from the exposure. Even though he's been in politics forever, not very many people outside of DC and Ohio know who he is. He did well, I think.

Which leaves me with the night's winner...Marco Rubio. He looked great, sharp with his answers, directly responding to the actual questions instead of launching into speeches. He kept talking about how things have changed radically just over the past five years, that in order to keep up you're going to have to adapt to the future, not dwell in the past. He projected youth and energy, bringing to mind the John Kennedy of 1960. He was the only one who impressed Pam, for what that's worth. 

So, there you have it. I wrote this quickly this morning before reading any punditry on the debate. I didn't want their opinions to influence mine, Now I'll go read what all the wise men had to say and realize how wrong I am about everything!

One more thing. All I hear from my leftist friends is what a pitiful lapdog Fox News is for the Republican Party, a mouthpiece for conservatism masquerading as a news network. Well, last night I saw three tough as nails reporters eviscerating every candidate on the stage, asking tough, uncomfortable questions, forcing the candidates to account for their past statements. In other words, I saw three moderators holding political feet to the fire. Now, whenever the Democrats ever get around to having a candidate debate, let's see how CNN or CBS or NBC handle their candidates! And yes, I did say their. I'm not naive enough to actually believe that anyone in the mainstream media would ever vote for a Republican candidate...come on!! Let's see if the folks at the New York Times can be as in your face with Hillary and Bernie as Megyn Kelly was with Donald Trump. Something tells me I'll be disappointed.

Tonight's Debate

Tonight there's a debate on television. Ten Republicans will stand on a stage and make one minute responses to questions from a moderator. Then they will be allowed thirty second responses to each other. Not exactly Plato vs. Socrates but it will be a far cry better than the debate among the Democratic Presidential candidates.  (Crickets)

Actually there will be two debates tonight. The first will take place much like an undercard for a prize fight. There are seven candidates that haven't polled high enough or paid off the right people at Fox to appear on the main stage. Amoung this group is a former governor of the State of Virginia who has so far raised exactly $193,000 for his campaign, Jim Gilmore. But there he will be, along side people like Bobby Jindal, Lindsey Graham, and Rick Perry. There isn't enough money in the world.....

Much of the focus tonight (along with 90% of the oxygen) will be taken up by Donald Trump, the current front runner and the bane of the political establishment. He and his hair will be at the center of the stage. Regular readers of this blog are aware that I have been highly critical of his Donaldness, sometimes viciously so. There's a reason for that...I've always despised his shtick, so I'm not exactly objective. But watching his candidacy giving the vapors to every member of the establishment punditry class has, I must confess, been delicious fun. I'm starting to understand his appeal, and oddly enough it's very similar to the boomlet of support being experienced by Democrat Bernie Sanders. I will attempt an explanation.

Americans of all political persuasions are tired of timidity. We are fed up with weasels. The carefully crafted, poll-tested sentences that spill forth from our politicians has reached a critical mass which has made them like fingernails on a blackboard. Largely we have brought this on ourselves. Politicians fear telling us the truth in part because they know we can't handle it. Instead we have spent the better part of thirty years sending conflicting messages to them, asking them to at once lower our taxes AND provide us with more stuff. The biggest long term problem we face as a nation is the unsustainability of Social Security, but that topic is called the third rail of American politics for good reason. So, nothing ever gets done, making the problem ultimately harder to fix. But here comes Trump and Sanders. Neither of them feels that they are owed the presidency, and neither of them, in their heart of hearts, believe they will become President. So, they are free to tell us what they think, not what some Madison Avenue polling firm tells them we want to hear. Sanders, in particular, has the courage of his convictions, and as such, is the perfect foil for Hillary Clinton who is desperately trying to figure out what her convictions are. Trump, on the other hand, has the conviction that on his worse day he could do a better job of running the country than the professional butt-kissers who will be standing on the stage around him tonight. He has the added advantage of being able to tell all the big donor types to take a hike. As he is always reminding us, he's got plenty of his own money, and therefore will enter the  White House in debt to no one, especially the Koch brothers.

So what will happen tonight? I have no idea except for this...at the end of the thing, every analyst on MSNBC will be proclaiming Hillary Clinton the big winner, and most of them on FOX will be pointing out all the mistakes made by Trump. And on Friday morning, the Donald's poll numbers will have...improved!

Wish Me Luck!

This afternoon at 4:30, I have my long awaited appointment with the neck specialist over at Tuckahoe Orthopaedic. He has examined the results of my recent MRI and will let me know how he plans to treat me. It could go several different ways...

Best case scenario.

Doctor: For the life of me I don't understand why we didn't catch this before, but your MRI revealed that there's a McDivot in your thermalator between the corpus and the christi right here, see it?

Me: Well, yeah, I guess so. But what does that mean?

Doctor: Well, it certainly explains the pain you've been experiencing. If there was a McDivot that big in my thermalator, my neck would be hurting too! The good news is that, now that we know what the problem is, it's an easy fix. Take these pills twice a day for a week, the thing will dissolve, and you'll be as good as new.

Worst case scenario.

Doctor: Well Mr. Dunnevant, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but both of your troubled bulging disks have ruptured, so I'm afraid we're going to have to operate to repair the damage. The earliest I can squeeze you in looks like the 20th of December.

Me: Are you kidding me? That's five days before Christmas!! And what am I suppose to do about the pain between now and then?

Doctor: Develope a taste for Scotch.

Most likely scenario.

Doctor: Yeah, looks like your neck is gradually wearing out. Right now, it's not bad enough to operate, so I'm going to give you a cortisone shot and we'll see how much relief that supplies. But after a while, a year or two, maybe three, the shots will stop working, then we will have to move on to more invasive treatment, which at some point will include surgery. 

Me: Wait, what about this therapy thing I heard about where they put you in traction and stretch your spine out to releave the pressure?

Doctor: Yes. In the Middle Ages that was called...torture. Be my guest.

Me: What about a Chiropractor?

Doctor: (crickets)

Me: Doctor? I said, what about a Chiropractor?

Doctor: Excuse me, but did I just hear a reasonably well educated man ask me if he should consider going to a glorified massage parlor for treatment of a serious neck condition? By all means, and while you're there maybe you can try applying a few leeches!

Me: I'll take that as a "no."

I'm counting on these cortisone shots working. If they don't I might try the rack thing and a Chiropractor. If none of these things work I might even go the leeches route. I am very tired of living with a neck that hurts all the time. I want to play golf again. I want to be able to back out of a parking space without extreme discomfort, and I've grown weary of my heating pad.

Wish me luck!

Stupid Zebras

A couple of days ago someone posted a meme on Facebook that was a picture of three Zebras with the tag line, "Thank God Cecil's Dead" at the top and the hashtag, #zebralivesmatter at the bottom. At first glance I thought it was mildly funny. But now I'm reading that it is grossly inappropriate and covertly racist. 

See, this is the problem with zebras. They're always trying to make everything black and white.