One Flag

I am not a political side-joiner or flag-waver – I fly just one flag and it belongs to all of us. I have views and positions on most issues – foreign and domestic policy, social and fiscal and what, exactly, the American Dream is. Some align with the Democratic Party’s stated position and some more closely align with the Republican Party’s stated issues. However, both parties have not behaved as though they have any positions and, in a very real sense, once in office our representatives all have just one position – keeping their cushy jobs. That said, egregious action by what has evolved into a veritable third party has taken an already messy experiment in self-rule to untenable extremes – and, once again, the people have said, “enough.”

AI-generated digital image

I have written about these trying political times, about the division, the weaponization, the demonization and how power corrupts – and absolute power corrupts absolutely. For decades our elected representatives have been giving up more and more power to the executive and making the president much more powerful than our founders ever intended. More recently, the judicial has been rubber-stamping this transfer of power. While this gradual movement might have seemed justified, reasonable or even necessary to “get things done” in a country with millions of diverse voices vying to be heard, what happens in the extreme when one person does control everything is that those voices are silenced. Silence enough of them for long enough and the people will have something to say about it.

I have also written that as fragile as this little experiment in self-rule is, we have a Constitution that has proven time and time again to be strong – really strong. Does it get violated? Regularly. Is it perfect? Not yet. Has it withstood corruption, world wars, a civil war and a political pendulum that swings wildly without destroying our foundation? Fuck yes. But it relies heavily on “cooler heads.” It is built on the peaceful transfer of power, on reasonable people – on smart people. Occasionally, loud voices of radical change have appealed to enough of the people to “try something new.” Sometimes, radically new. We have seen extremes colored as patriotism in the past, and one need not look too far back to see it. But cooler heads prevailed – enough of them – and the Constitution survived to fight another day.

Last night, the people spoke. They were not voting for a particular party, and they were not, necessarily, voting against the tenets of the other party; they were rebuking deviation from those tenets, they were rebuking unchecked power and they were reclaiming a government built of the people, by the people and for the people – all of us. Now there is a lot of work to do. If the Democrats do not understand why their party approval rating, despite a huge mid-term win, is at a record low (as is the Republican Party’s), they will not do what the people – all of them, in aggregate – sent them there to do. Does that include efforts at accountability? Absolutely, but we did not send them there to seek vengeance, we sent them there to work for us, to get things done.

We are tired of fighting ourselves. Not tired of the last two years, not the last 10, we are tired of the overt no-compromise, control and conquer, winner take all, fuck the losers trend that has been standard operating procedure for at least this entire millennium. And, we are tired of the graft. Too much of our money has found its way into the pockets of those who have more than they could ever spend; it is sickening. However, my sincere hope is that we do not dwell there. Look at it, mitigate the most egregious acts, and do what we sent them there to do. If they did not hear it last night, let me be clear – this is our country and our government. You political careerists work for us, you serve at our pleasure – and clearly, we are not pleased.

I hope lessons have been learned, but I am pretty sure this is not the last time our Constitution will be attacked. It has been fighting for us for a long time, last night the cavalry arrived.

The Permanent Deficit

Dates like today’s kind of sneak up on me. There were times in my life when, as these dates approached, I would “see” them coming, think about what it all meant, reflect, ponder, regurgitate, wonder, “what if?” and otherwise ruminate about them. Not so much anymore. It might be because they are so old now, everything that can be said has been said; everything that can be thought has been thought; everything that can be gained has been gained. However, I seriously doubt I will be thinking too much about newer anniversaries, either. I cannot imagine ruminating about my one-year retirement anniversary in January, but it’s still a few months out, maybe there will be something to say about it.

 

Today has three distinct events associated with it. The first is the 37th anniversary of the Loma Prieta Earthquake. It occurred 13 days after the birth of my youngest son. He slept through it, safely strapped into his car seat in a car parked at my in-laws home in Sunnyvale. My then wife and other two sons were outside riding it out in the trailer park my in-laws lived in at the time. It was a devastating event for a lot of people, but everyone in my personal sphere escaped with nothing more than significant inconvenience. Still, as a Bay Area native, I have felt a number of earthquakes – some fairly moderate – and that one we knew immediately was much worse. And, 37 years later, it still lives as the most significant natural event I have ever experienced.

 

The latest October 17th anniversary is the birth of a beloved chocolate lab named Bella Mocha. She would be 17 today, but she, sadly, passed away too soon more than five years ago. Her unbroken legacy of adopted pups through a Great Dane mix named Rocky (who has also passed), a golden retriever named Möbius and now a pit mix named Pebbles, is right here, right now, laying at my feet. Bella never had a litter of her own, but she mentored Rocky when he was rescued as a stray by my son (the same one strapped in that car seat in 1989). Rocky, in turn, mentored Möbius when he came into our lives and, after he passed, Möbius did the same for Pebbles. Bella’s spirit lives on through the dogs who live here now.

 

In between, on October 17th, 2000 was a day that literally changed – and almost ended – everything. It was the end, the beginning of the end, the beginning of the beginning but not yet the end of the beginning. That would take another four or five years. However, the end, with all the finality it entails, was almost literally the end of me. I should have – not could have – died that day and every one of the 26 years since brings about a profound sense of gratitude. It is a day I have written about extensively, but I haven’t done more than note its passing since 2020 – the 20-year anniversary of my “second life.” Ordinarily, I would go back and reread what I have written, noting what has changed in my perspective, but I did not this time. What follows is entirely from my head, right now. I have included a single photo (enhanced due to the low quality of digital imagery at the time) from the local newspaper – a picture that is indeed worth 1,000 words.

 

Photo by Darin Olde / Sierra Sun.

 

I was living in Truckee, CA with my two youngest sons. My life was a mess, but I was trying to hold it together working, raising two young sons and finding artificial escape at every possible moment through drugs and alcohol. By that time in my life, every possible moment was almost all the time. I was, on the face of it, a bad dad – since my sobriety date on August 6th, 2004, it is a moniker I own. However, despite being a bad dad, I was also in many ways a good dad and if they were asked, my boys would likely say both were true. The bad springs from the obvious irresponsibility addiction necessarily brings, but we also did stuff – lots of it. We camped, we boated, we four-wheeled and we snowboarded often. I also kept the lights on and food in the fridge. I know that those last two things are bare minimums, but to say I was never present would be false. And, yet, in critical ways, I was not there.

 

That manifested itself on this morning 26 years ago. Due to my lifestyle choices, I was often awake for two, three and sometimes more days on end. That would be followed by a forced shutdown for at least a day. If the deprivation is long enough, the choice as to when that happens is no longer mine. It happened while I was driving my middle son to school near Squaw Valley on CA 89. I was not under the influence directly, I was experiencing the aftermath of being under the influence. That might be a distinction without a difference, but it did matter when it came to the law. What could have been a felony DUI was only an at-fault accident. But “only” diminishes what it really was.

 

I fell asleep at the wheel and drifted across the double yellow line into the path of a logging truck. It could have killed me, my son and the logging truck driver. My son and the truck driver escaped with minor injuries… mine were life threatening. By most accounts (I don’t remember any of it) I should have bled out and died. Thanks to the local emergency services and some amazing doctors and medical staff at both Truckee’s Tahoe Forest Hospital as well as the Washoe Medical Center in Reno, NV, I did not die. But for about a week, it was touch and go. I did not come out of a medically induced coma for about five weeks. When I had regained consciousness enough to figure out what I was doing there – I knew…

 

I knew why I was there and whose fault it was. I swore to myself then and there – never again. It’s the hangover mantra. But I meant it, with everything I had. This time, it wasn’t a “close call,” it was a direct hit and what was gnawing at me the most was not only that I could have killed my kid, but also the mental anguish I must have put him through – anguish that he still lives with today. A lot followed, but at the time I still could not walk, I still had all kinds of tubes and hardware and equipment attached to me and I was still going to be hospitalized several more weeks – until January of 2001. But I still wasn’t completely out of the woods.

 

Eventually I would recover physically enough to get around. And, eventually, “never” became, “it’s going to be different this time.” It wasn’t and I found myself in more trouble in the coming months, this time from law enforcement. That journey is also one I have written about extensively, but the Reader’s Digest version goes like this: I ended up being sentenced to some jail time followed by a stint in a residential treatment program. On March 11, 2003 I entered that program and completed it six months later. I was doing well, back in school and working towards reestablishing myself. All of that came crashing down when I relapsed at the end of 2003, violated probation in April 2004 and went back to jail on August 6th, 2004 – and I have been sober ever since. Coincidentally enough, I have also been in no legal trouble since then, either. I continued my education, but chose a different direction and finally ended up with a BA and an MA from California State University, Sacramento and ABD (all but dissertation) and another MA from LSU. I just retired after more than 10 years as a faculty member at Sacramento State.

 

Of the 26 years since my second life began, the last 22 have been full of success and a smattering of failure—but nothing like the self-inflicted damage of the now-distant past.  Through all of that and the work needed to realize my recovery from addiction (including its particular form, alcoholism), I had to accept some difficult truths. Among them is that I was never a victim. I do not regret the pain, suffering or lost opportunity I brought on myself. The pain, in particular, was nothing I would wish upon anyone, but it was my pain, I own it, paid in full. However, I do regret, every day, the pain I put others through. I had to eat the biggest lie we tell ourselves, that Libertarian bullshit that what I put into my body is my business and that I am not hurting anyone but myself. If that was true, society would not have any problem with drunks and addicts – “do what you want, it doesn’t affect us.” Pure and utter bullshit. And those who loved me the most were hurt the most.

 

While I cannot take any of that back and I cannot change the past, I can change the present and for 22 years I have been doing just that. The price I paid was the price I paid, and knowingly or not, it was my choice. However, many others paid for my behavior, too and they did not have a choice. I absolutely see my own pain as the price I had to pay to get me here – and in my case that included almost dying. However, those I hurt should not have been forced to pay – I do not view that as their “sacrifice” so that I could become the person I always should have been from the start. No matter how well I live my life now, there is a permanent deficit – there is no “amends” that can change what happened. That said, they are all happy I finally got my shit together and have had 22+ years of living without the fear of me dying.

Magic

These are the last lines in the last book Roald Dahl ever wrote, a children's book titled, "the Minpins," that was published in 1991, after his death the year before. I do not know when I first heard it, but by 1991 I was certainly not a child anymore, though I was in many ways very childlike. I do know that it was not until I began my exploration into more ethereal things after I got sober (or, clean, if that matters to you) that I stumbled upon it.

That term, "magic," can mean many things - and to me, over the years, it has meant many different things, but it has never meant any kind of hocus-pocus, even though I do associate the term with illusionists, the quintessential "magic show." And, in that respect, it has some distinct parallels. Magic, for me, is what happens beneath the surface, what is going on behind the façade. I do not equate it with anything supernatural - including all such stories from all religions. That said, the source of it all very well could be the same - the unexplainable.

There are too many things to list, things we take for granted today, that would have been absolute witchcraft just a century ago. It was the wonder of those who both believed in and sought to explain the unexplainable that created what we have today - the marvels of science and invention. Yet, as much as we now know, we still do not know so much - it is, still, veritable magic. However, discovery and belief in the magic we seek requires suspending many other, often baseless, beliefs. It is not easy, but for those who believe, who are compelled to forever seek, it is necessary.

Mind/Body/Spirit

Today, I stepped way outside my comfort zone. I did something I have never done, with people I have never met at a place I only started going to in the last week. It was, for absolutely no reason, scary, but I also haven’t felt this energized in many, many years. But I am getting ahead of myself, it didn’t “just happen.” It was a conscious decision, and the following is what led up to it. 

We are each made up of mind, body and spirit; these three aspects work in harmony and the better we balance and are in tune with them, the better we will feel. In less than six months, my world has undergone significant changes. I turned 63 years old, I retired and, factoring in the continuing ramifications of my social circle implosion, nothing, it seems, is the same. It’s not all bad; in fact, it’s not even mostly bad; it is a thing and it must be adapted to. That is where this “mind/body/spirit” triad comes into play. I feel, for no direct reason, disharmony. It’s nothing new, it has come and gone over my many years. But this time, it’s at a time when everything is mostly good – even those social ramifications, now no longer new, have proven beneficial. So, why the disharmony? It’s because of balance and neglect – specifically, neglecting my spirit and my body. Of the two, my body is most neglected. That does not mean I am unhealthy, but it does mean that I have not moved either very much for a long time.

My spirit underwent a literal overhaul when I stopped drinking and drugging. For my more than 21 years of sobriety, spiritual work has been not just desirable, not just important, but absolutely necessary. Prior to that, I never gave it even a seat at the table, dismissing “spirituality” and its derivatives as various forms of silly. Even in sobriety, being an atheist, I struggle with the idea/belief of spirituality. They say that spirituality and religion are not the same thing and that sobriety is a spiritual journey, but many of their walks don’t match their talk. Can it be done with just a mind/body paradigm? Sure, I did that too, and I do not discount others who see the world that way. For me, spirituality could very well be folded into “mind,” but I find it more effective leaving it separate, mystical and always new. All that said, my spirituality has not been new in a very long time – it is stagnant.

As has been my body. I was in a near-fatal crash more than 25 years ago. Prior to that, the combination of my age (37 at the time), good genes and a pretty active lifestyle meant my body could and would do just about anything I asked of it. While I was physically fit, my mind was clouded by drugs and alcohol such that I was often on auto-pilot. As far as spirituality went… as I said, that was for fools. Although I was in serious imbalance and disharmony, I didn’t know it and would not have cared if I did. After waking up in the hospital five weeks after my wreck, that began to change, but it was slow and extremely difficult.
 

My body, with only some minor limitations, eventually recovered. After getting sober, my mind woke up all on its own, returning to a place of inquisitiveness, curiosity, critical thinking and even assertion that it once was many years prior. Continuing my education supercharged it—of the three, my mind has been healthiest and, for the most part, not stagnant. It has been more stagnant since I retired, but I find it relatively easy to get back to that always new place. These words are an example of that – right here, right now. However, my body has suffered the most stagnation. Over the past two decades-plus, I have gradually become decreasingly active. Spiritually, I have rested on my laurels; I have not pushed its boundaries, or expanded on what it is, means or how it operates.

That brings us full circle. Last week I took measures to remedy that balance and that harmony. Today was but one very small piece of that overall puzzle. I engaged in a physical class that I am deliberately not naming, because the last thing I want is to be inducted into a lifestyle brand or viewed as a new-age convert. It does not matter what the specific movements were; what matters is that I have taken a step outside of what is comfortable, familiar and easy to enter into the unknown. Did I like it? Yes and no; no one likes discomfort, but that is what it takes to get where “there” is. Did I like the activity itself? It is too soon to tell, but I did not hate it, so there is that. Right now, the big deal is that I put myself out there again for the first time in a long time, and that I do like.

And I am not done. Tonight I have another, different activity in a place that is new, around people I have never met before, doing something I have never done before. It’s not to be “bold” and “overcome fear,” although that is a side-effect, it is to repair the rift between my mind, my body and my spirit, to wake them the fuck up and start working together so that I can get this old me moving again to enjoy the years I have left. And, if I do it right, I might just add a few years to them.

Epstein and the Washington (TN) County School Board

   

I'm not big into conspiracy theories. I especially dismiss large-scale ones—such as the “moon landing,” “flat-earth,” “chem-trails” and a host of others—with Occam's Razor. The most likely explanation is the simplest one; the number of people and secrets required to, for example, fake the moon landing is mind-boggling. And impossible. Much more likely, we landed on the moon, just like I watched on TV in 1969.

But some conspiracy theories turn out to be real conspiracies. With some, like the Epstein files, there absolutely is a "there" there. It's bad, it was going on for years and the secrecy involved was off the charts. However, in a way, Occam’s Razor still applies. Too many people had to keep too many big, dark secrets for it to stay secret forever. Still, damage – and lots of it – was done. There's no question that powerful men, and some powerful women, have for years been keeping very dark secrets.

The Epstein files did two things. First, they blew up any logical reasoning that this was nothing more than a conspiracy; the massive amount of evidence, and the ongoing cover-up, proves that. But was this a one-off, an anomaly? Yes, it’s bad, real bad, but how societally ingrained is this behavior? We don’t know the extent just yet, but if we listen to women, it’s not isolated, rare or limited to just one group of the wealthy and powerful. How do we know?

Look no further than Washington County, Tennessee.

On April 2nd, a school board member named Keith Ervin was caught on video leaning into a female high school board member, grabbing her by her opposite shoulder to pull her into him for a “side hug” and said, “God, you're hot. You know that? Hey, where do you go to school at?” The rest of the board either chuckled uneasily or just sat there. It was not subtle. This YouTube link begins at one hour and 16 minutes into the two-hour meeting – it shows the incident that has created so much backlash for Ervin and the board.

Ervin’s defense is as much predictable as it is pathetic. He claimed “hot” simply meant she was “on a roll” with her presentation. He also threw in the tried and untrue refrain that the clip (which has gone viral) is taken out of context, that we must watch the whole two-hour meeting to understand. So I did.

And the context is actually much worse.

For the entire meeting, he wasn't paying attention to a student's performance; he was paying inordinate attention to a high school girl. He was looking at her more than anyone else. He was sitting between her and another board member, but noticeably closer to her. He touched her many times before taking his bold “next step.” And now he’s betting that no one will watch it all, that we will just accept his lame-fuck excuse. And he’s banking on this all fading away before August when he’s up for reelection to a seat he’s held for 20 years.

Many have said, as I or any rational human would: If this was a teenage boy – or any male for that matter - would Ervin have pulled him into a physical embrace and whispered, “God, you're hot, where do you go to school?” If the answer is yes, that he would do that with a boy, well, that is a problem too. He wasn’t giving this girl a “you-go, girl!” he was taking liberties in a post-Epstein world that appears to be, for some, normalized.

So, how did the institution respond? First, they didn’t until there was widespread condemnation. But, after that, in emergency session, they voted to "censure" him. A formal slap on the wrist. They claimed their hands were tied by state law, which is just another way of saying the system is explicitly designed to protect the incumbent power structure. He keeps his seat. And, predictably, this wasn't even his first offense; he was censured for a lewd classroom gesture back in 2009.

Women and girls (and some boys, too) have known about this systemic cloaking for a long time. These are not isolated anomalies. The Epstein files revealed not only how the rich and powerful have been doing what they want with impunity for a long time, the files have also unearthed the truth so many victims have been trying to tell us for a long time. There is a “secret society,” but it is not as hidden as you think. You buy their products; you see them on ballot after ballot. And the system is cooked to let them get away either Scott-free or with just a slap on the wrist. The Epstein files have given us the information we need to set things straight, but first it has uncovered something dark that lurks in the hearts of too many men. They have become emboldened to reveal who they are. In a school board meeting. Recorded, for all to see.

 

Riddle Me This:

Why are so many of you so deferential to law enforcement?

Okay, some context is necessary. Let's go...

First, this does not apply to my "normie" friends - real or Fakebook pseudo. Many of you have had no real interaction beyond a traffic ticket and probably believe that they have the most dangerous job there is, and that all the protections, privileges and policies they enjoy (and only they enjoy) are justified. Until those perks come home to roost on your neck, they paint a pretty compelling picture. For you I'd suggest this: lots of jobs are dangerous and many are statistically more dangerous than being a cop. One of them is being a member of our military in combat. So is a highway worker. However, I'll grant that it is not likely I'll sway you, so I'll leave you with this: They don't close down major interstates for a parade when anyone else dies - in the line of duty or not. Only cops. Ever wonder why...

But there is another major group of both real and virtual friends here, and that group typically has extensive experience with law enforcement. And, no, I am not talking about "bikers," although the same thinking can apply. I am speaking specifically about those of you in the recovery community. The vast majority of you have extensive, often negative experience with law enforcement. I know I have, and I heard literally thousands of your stories. So, why have so many of you suddenly become champions of the thin blue line? Maybe you've been sober (or clean) so long that you forgot. Or, maybe you thought you "had it coming." Y'all seem to think that about many others now.

For some, I'd jump on that bandwagon save this: I AM all about the rule of law and part of those rules are due process. So, while becoming aware of some particularly evil individual getting some well-deserved justice, when that comes at the hands of cops through excessive force under color of law, I am not going to sign onto it. That brings up one of many problems. The so-called "good cops" and their silence about bad cops. I tacitly agree that most cops get into the job for the right reason (not ICE, but I'll get to them shortly) and only a few are the ones who crave the power of the badge and a gun. But if a good cop turns a blind eye to a bad cop, is (s)he still good?

But let's get back to the recovery community and our experience. I know the vast majority of you have seen or been subjected to unconstitutional actions under the color of law. It's not even up for debate, if you've been to jail or prison, you know about it just like "good cops" do. But now that you, personally, are no longer subject to their abuses, you're all part of the "back the blue" club. Weird, but okay. Maybe you figure that what happen to you was due to your own (stupid) actions and had you been behaving yourself, it never would have happened. I am with you on that. I was waving huge red flags in front of my life, basically daring them to come get me. Had I not, I never would have been subject to the good cops OR the bad ones. Here's the rub: That does not excuse the bad ones or the system set up to protect them.

I AM all about the rule of law - for everyone. And seeing police academy rejects (and worse) put on a pseudo-cop uniform wearing a face mask (for their own protection, right?), and violate the 1st, 4th, 5th, 14th and now 2nd Amendments with impunity has to stop. And for you who are so self-centered that, because you're safe, it's okay, know this - they'll be coming after you eventually. Lastly, for those who seem to believe that Constitutional protections are only for citizens, you are absolutely wrong. The Constitution is clear as are several high court rulings. If due process and other Constitutionally enumerated rights can be denied pending proof of citizenship, then once detained, it would be impossible to prove without due process. No phone call, no lawyer, no probable cause, no speedy trial - maybe no trial at all.

Is that what y'all voted for? Because that and a whole shitload more is what you got. But at least eggs are cheaper.