Mint Condition

The only 

line

on a bill

that Trump

wants to 

sign

will fill

a tip 

jar

at the coffee

bar.

The at-once 

retro, yet

Crypto,

AI,

Social Media

guy

wants his

signature

bill

to be

a dollar.

That’s

his currency,

literally.

In a world

where

bigwigs

slip a few

to those who 

might curry

favors,

the currency

he savors,

his name,

visible,

is indivisible

from 

the most

powerful

person

“ever.”

“Never

has there

been….”

(nor 

should there

be)

another 

Donald J

Trump.

Sorry, Junior.

This latest

maneuver

by the Commander

in Chief

who neglects

to debrief,

and whose

belief

in distraction

as a course

of action,

wants 

to fulfill

his identity

with the dollar

bill.

The old guy

loves to try

to resurrect

what will

surely

die

as we become

conditioned

to digital

currency

and each

emergency

that makes

fossil fuel

less cool

or necessary.

We want

a breath

of fresh

air—

environmentally

and presidentially.

Only he

would say

that he’s

in Mint Condition.

Cesar Dressing

Many 

a school

and boulevard

is named

for the man

whose

reputation’s

now marred

by the revelations

in the NYT

investigations

into

sexual abuse

by the Latino

and Farm Workers

Union hero,

Cesar Chavez.

Dolores Huerta

the “abuela” 

of the same

movement,

chose silence

about being

raped by him

and his abuse

of girls

and other

women,

for the sake 

of the Farm 

Workers

Union

and Latino

rights.

Now 

at almost

96,

her admission

could help

fix

the trap

of hero

worship.

Leadership

is an ego

trip,

but the script

must be 

flipped

more immediately.

The fear 

and shame 

shouldn’t be

for the victims

of abuse,

but for those

who confuse

title

with entitlement.

Victims

of Chavez

were as young

as 9,

and Ms. Huerta,

whom he twice

raped

at the time,

each time

resulting

in children,

was so 

committed to

her work

with the UFW,

and the rights

of farm workers

and Latinos,

that she chose

silence

for what she

believed

was a greater

good;

but also

for what she

believed

she could

do.

In many ways

our culture

is now more

aware

of the reality

of the pervasiveness

of sexual

abuse.

But many

refuse

to accept

the concept

that women

and children

are actually

not objects.

Even other

humanitarian

projects

carve out

sex

as somehow

irrelevant.

The recent

revelations

show Chavez

was malevolent –

not just

the macho

hero.

And now

bro

culture-

the manosphere-

does appear

to embrace

misogyny.

Accountability

for irresponsibility

much less,

abuse,

finds

an excuse

among

the obtuse

and those

who have

something

to lose.

Of course,

everyone

has something

to lose,

and to choose

to ignore

abuse,

or deviance,

for the convenience

of political

expedience

is itself

an abdication

of responsibility.

Sure,

we give females

our blessing

and yet

insinuate

that dressing

a certain

way

causes

inappropriate

behavior

by invitation.

Only

such a notion

removes

responsibility

for action

and gives

agency

to spaghetti

straps

and mini

skirts.

It hurts

my heart

to learn

this news,

not for Chavez,

but for

Huerta.

She had

to endure

for 

sixty

years

for fears

of “greater”

pain.

But the greater

stain

will be 

on

all of us

who let

injustice

remain.

The Shows Tell

“One Battle

After

Another”

and

“Sinners”,

both

Oscar

winners,

neither

of which

excited me,

still 

invited me

to cheer

the resistance

to the various

nefarious

forces

that resurface

to undermine

from time 

to time.

That Hollywood

would

create

a spate

of movies,

and include

a Brazilian ,

after a million

and one

heinous

acts had

been done

by the current

administration,

is validation

that all

is not lost,

though the cost

increases

daily.

Movies

reflect

and inspire,

which

is why

the vampire

genre

won’t die.

White nationalism

and supremacism,

dystopian

and historic,

with the allegoric

vampire

never dying,

always

vying

to take 

over,

lives

among us

forever.

One battle

after

another

describes

reality,

not just

the movie.

It feels 

like only

recently

the tragedy

of the strategy

of evil

and chaos

would be

possible.

We thought

we won

after WW2.

Humanity

was saved

and would

inevitably

evolve.

But humiliation

and fear

always

reappear

in the form

of aggression

and oppression.

We relaxed

and became

too confident,

never imagining

a modern president

like this one.

Hollywood

has finally

begun

to confront

white nationalism

and supremacy

as democracy

and the world

are now

in peril.

Interestingly,

the supremely

talented

Timothée 

Chalamet,

(who knows

a thing or two

about ballet),

was denied

his Marty

Supreme

Oscar

dream,

perhaps 

because

the theme

was 

him

being

a jerk.

It would

appear

the good 

guys

won

in Hollywood

this year.

In the face

of fear,

it’s clear

that the

real sinners

will reappear

to fight

one battle 

after another.

Everybody

A year ago

my second toe,

and first,

and third,

required

corrective

surgery.

Recovery

would be

slow

to show,

but now

the issue

is scar

tissue.

Meanwhile,

a terribly

difficult

infection

causing

inflammation

in a finger

to throb

and linger

has meant

that treatment

for another

ailment

is contingent

upon

what’s going

on

elsewhere.

And now

my problematic

hips and hamstrings,

additional

chronic

disablings,

can no longer

be ignored.

For all my

recovery talk,

one year later,

I can barely

walk;

an issue,

like my first toe,

started aching

decades ago.

I confess

my anatomical

mess,

less 

to complain

than to sustain

attention

on our duties

civic

to impact

our pathetic

body politic.

See what

I did there?

Compare

my shoddy

body

(and the ailments

I mention,

like 

you may

have,

are only some)

with the problem

of our politics.

As you 

well know,

pain sticks

when what

needs to be

fixed

isn’t.

Like 

an autoimmune

condition,

fighting

itself

into 

submission,

we’re in

a prolonged

flare.

There are

remedies

for various

maladies,

but much

effort

is required.

Mired

in pain

and war

is sure

to make

recovery

slow going.

But knowing

we still

have capacity

and muscle

memory

for democracy,

means

exercising

appropriately,

regularly.

Offerings

like 

No Kings

rallies

may seem

useless

against

our maladies,

but I believe

participation

is the medication

needed.

Support

candidates

beyond

your community

in order to 

strengthen

congressional

immunity

against

the MAGA

virus

inundating

us.

Donate,

show up,

email,

call….

do it all!

The process

of healing

requires

dealing

with building

strength;

a process

of length

and endeavor.

Nothing’s

forever,

but our injuries

may need

surgeries,

and certainly

therapies,

in order 

to facilitate

recovery.

Ultimately,

it’s up

to us

to do 

more 

than discuss

our disgust.

Democracy

is of,

by,

and for,

and therefore

requires

everybody.

Legacy Box

Like in 

a coffin,

we often

try to contain

what will remain

after us,

thus

drafting

and crafting

some image; 

some visage

for lineage

or heritage.

A life 

of importance;

of consequence.

In a sense,

we try

to ensure

that our death

will be more

than 

the end.

No one

is more

concerned

about having

earned

a place

in history

than 

the man

of Epic 

Fury.

Bored 

of peace,

the increase

of aggression

may be his

concession

to a time limit.

Does this war

inhibit?

Prohibit?

Or merely

exhibit

epic

destruction

without

reconstruction

because

we pretend

that’s on

them,

and you’re

welcome.

When Trump

feels boxed

in,

he claims

a win

with

notorious

epic fury.

Who needs 

diplomacy

or policy

when hostility

poses

for expediency?

The decency

of Americans

showed sympathy

for Iranians

who suffered

and died

after 

they tried 

to protest

their government’s

oppression.

The succession

of oppression

is a common

outcome

from

dictatorships.

The second

Assad

was worse

than the first.

And Kim Jung Ił

was still

not as bad 

as his son,

Kim Jung Un.

The legacy

of war

should abhor,

for

more than

a minute.

We enter

militarily

often

from lies

under the guise

that it’s

wise

to avert

iminent

threat,

yet,

we’re met

with the suprise

of hatred

for generations.

Subverting

diplomacy

and democratic

process,

to me inhibits

any success,

and Trump’s

legacy

of travesty

is tragedy

even if

military

victory

killed

the Ayatollah.

Is It Just War?

During Obama’s

presidency

Navy Seals found

Osama’s

residency

and eliminated

the threat.

Met 

with praise

and celebration,

we considered

Al Quaeda’s

decapitation

a major victory.

But our history

with Iran,

especially since

the Shah

was gone

(and given

safe haven

here),

has been 

of humiliation

with 

the hostage

situation

that commenced

with the repressive

revolution,

that sought

the dissolution

of freedom

and western

constitution,

now decades

of our 

seeking

a solution

to their

nuclear

threat

and oppression.

In addition,

more than one

proxy militia,

including

the Houthis

and Hezbollah,

directed by

the Ayatollah,

have menaced

the middle

east

and beyond

for decades.

Recently,

the potential

nuclear threat

was met

with surgical 

strikes,

diminishing their

capability.

But suddenly,

that threat

was imminent

if you listen to

our current President.

So in coordination

with Israel,

we attacked

Iran

at its most

central

and

therefore

consequential

spot,

and killed

the Ayatollah.

Who knows

what follows?

And that’s 

the part

that should be

the start

of any

discussion

of war.

Is it just

an exercise

to exorcise

a demon?

Without advice

or consent

from Congress,

we could be 

in a considerable

mess

again.

No question,

when

we get

the bad guys—

Osama,

Sadam,

Qaddafi,

Khamenei-

it’s easy

to rejoice.

But the choice

for 

war

is always

more

than 

assassination.

By definition,

war is hell,

and yet 

we tell

ourselves

it’s glory.

It’s gory,

and a country’s

past

is not erased.

We have faced

this dilemma

many times,

yet despite

history’s 

rhymes

and war crimes,

we haven’t

grappled 

much with

nuance.

Is it a 

just

war?

Or 

is it just

regime change

in exchange

for more

of the same,

while Trump

gets his name

attached

to a win?

I’m feeling 

queasy

that this won’t

be easy,

and really,

it might

not

be.

We should

discuss

and debate

the fate

of each 

nation-state

with great

consideration.

That was

the idea

in our constitution,

because

a single

individual

should not

be responsible

for putting

our service members’

lives 

or ours

in danger.

Miracle on ICE?

To address

the state

of the union

is to confess

….

wait…

nevermind….

is to profess

success

and redress

how to oppress

and exacerbate

a mess

unnecessarily

created.

Ever the ham

in front of

a cam

who will

hock

anything

he can,

and lie,

deny,

defy,

well,

you know

the guy.

He always

skates by,

and continues

to fly 

by the seat

of his

ginormous pants.

As we’re

whacked

around

with such

incredible speed,

indeed

the analogy

for this

current

pathology

is,

appropriately,

Ice Hockey.

The irony

(or maybe

not)

is the import

of the sport

in The Olympics.

It once 

defined

our win

against

The Soviet

Union

and Communism,

and this year,

both men

and women

brought home

the gold

for US.

Dominating

the ice

(wouldn’t

that

be nice!),

with speed

and tenacity

to upend

the capacity

of the opposition,

is always

the goal.

And whose

soul

has been sold

when Kash

Patel

will tell

the media

that his trip

to the Olympics

was indeed a

part of his

job description?

The Women’s

US Hockey

Team

politely

declined

the invitation

for the State

of the Union

speechification,

while the Men’s

Team 

was awarded

the Medal

of Freedom.

Are athletics

the metrics

of freedom?

(Not for women!)

And FYI,

Trump didn’t 

deny

as he joked,

that if he didn’t

invite the women’s

team,

which also beat

Team Canada

in overtime

for gold,

“I do believe

I probably

would be 

impeached.”

Oh,

the heights

we’ve reached

in our current

state

of the union.

Formerly Known As Prince

You knew

that Andrew

was in

a Windsor 

knot,

and not 

because

he draws

positive

attention.

But the arrest

of one 

of the 

highest profile

friends

of Epstein

by a mile,

is the one

formerly known

as Prince

Andrew.

Whom did he

talk to?

Or was it

just Epstein?

And what intel

did he tell

if he told

bad old 

Epstein,

and why?

The plot,

not

just sickening,

is now  

ever thickening,

with tales

of international

intrigue.

In a league

of his own,

Epstein brokered

connections

in all directions,

while trafficking

girls

as objects

of sex.

This tale

of abuse

and lies

and powerful

ties,

perhaps of spies,

still denies

most

of the victims’

voices.

The choices

to ignore

his crimes

before

accepting

favors and gifts,

show a classless

class

of grifts

and thrifts

among the wealthiest

and most powerful.

This spectacle

of unacceptable,

is a basket

of deplorable,

that should make

us nauseous

and wince.

Formerly known

as respectable

people,

we presumed

more than 

innocence.

A former prince,

left untitled,

though still

entitled,

must be held

accountable.

Truth to power

can feel

insurmountable

when the most

powerful

get slapped

on the wrist.

A nice twist

to this list

of influencers

influenced

by a confidence

guy

with cultivated

connections,

instead of deflections

and rejections

of what 

was known

to be true,

would be to

witness

the prosecution

of the real

prostitution

at the highest

levels

and see,

not just

transparency,

but actual

accountability.

Winter Games

Everything 

I see

lately

is curling-

in the Olympics

and in politics.

Meddling

at home

without

much medaling

in Italy

yet,

from the outset,

has been

great upset.

Booing Vance

in advance

of the games

brought me

no pride.

Inside

I cringed

at how fringed

our stature

is

on the world

stage.

The rage

against

Trump

is

justified,

as the 

slide

to authoritarianism

can not

be denied,

but mostly,

I felt sad.

And then

the great

losses

early on

by the bosses

of skating

and skiing,

felt metaphoric.

This season

of ICE,

the most

chilling

in memory,

could be

an opportunity.

But not 

yet.

Shutting down

Homeland Security

even partially,

may be

a Hail

Mary,

but it feels

like a lose-

lose.

And gutting

the EPA

and throwing

away

environmental

progress,

much less

democratic

process,

make today,

Presidents Day,

nothing more

than a day

to buy

a mattress.

If you’re feeling

powerless,

know that

you are not.

Politics,

unlike

The Olympics,

is not

a spectator

sport.

The dual

crises,

existential,

democracy

and environmental,

require your

participation.

Sure,

bring your bags

to the grocery

store,

but before 

you do,

take a few

moments

(literally, a few!!)

to take

actions:

Home
Dashboard for Democracy

Use the tools

of democracy

to save democracy

and the climate

crises.

Already crafted

emails

and petitions,

download the apps

for your signature

additions.

I get nothing

out of sharing

here

other than knowing

we are daring 

here

to do democracy

together.

It’s better 

than just watching

the screen

as we careen

off course.

And of course,

share with 

your friends

and family

and your 

networks.

Be a reason

democracy

works.

That’s

how we

win.

Love Objects

Before emojis

aimed 

to please,

and punctuated

our text-

driven

communication,

“Be mine”

and 

“I’m yours”

were validation;

or perhaps

merely

expectation

or hopeful

exploration

exchanged

on Valentine’s

Day.

Verbal expressions, 

corny

or horny,

are now confessions

made pictorially

with a heart

or an eggplant

emoji.

See

the emotion

evoke 

a notion-

a flirtation;

a wink.

Whatever 

you think,

brevity

of the 

emoji

is the gesture’s

efficiency,

unless

you’re me,

and then

you guess

the best

way to 

suggest

a thought

which ought

to be direct.

If love 

is a universal

language,

we each 

tend to speak

in a unique

dialect.

But to protect

ourselves

and deflect

from our 

selves

we opt

for visual

and physical

speech

we each

understand,

which now 

tends 

to command

definition.

A hallmark 

of love

is forgotten

egos

as we 

become

consumed

by Eros.

Hearts pierced

by Cupid

and all

the stupid

merchandise

to remind

us all to

exercise

expressions

of love 

to those

we prize,

and not

just

romantically.

Love

objects

to silence

and distance,

with an insistence

on affinity.

Relationships

with family

and friends

and lovers

demand

loving

attention

and some

sort of mention

of “I love you!”.

Whether with

an object,

or more 

direct

speech,

each person

you can reach

needs 

your love.

Happy Valentine’s Day!