Tuesday, April 27, 2021

On Elevators

 “There are elevators, and there are elevators. This is the latter,” to quote Vesper Lynd. 

A classical example? Hardly, but oh, the character in this one. I’d be fascinated to see how the brick elevator is braced internally, but it makes for a striking tower. The elevator sits across the former Northern Pacific Railway tracks from the downtown commercial district of Beach, North Dakota. 



Thursday, January 14, 2016

The progressive case for Donald Trump (now, hear me out....)

[Warning - this is a bit on the rambling side and may be further edited as time permits]

The typical American liberal or progressive should be horrified by the prospect of Donald Trump presidency. If he runs the country the way he has run his companies we'll be bankrupt within months.  He will turn the country into a laughing stock and we will be less-safe domestically and internationally than we are now.  He will enable a wave of xenophobic, racist, and isolationist sentiments and actions that have remained been largely outside the political mainstream since the heyday of George Wallace's presidential campaigns. If elected, he will run roughshod over our system of governance, and likely create a constitutional crisis that will make Watergate look like quaint by comparison.  More frightening perhaps is that his supporters will be either disappointed by his predictable failure to deliver on his outlandish promises (like forcing Mexico to pay for a complete wall at the border or slapping China with prohibitive tariffs, or returning manufacturing jobs to the United States) and lose all faith in democratic processes, or be emboldened to take matters into their own hands and exact "justice" on those they perceive to be thwarting Trump's agenda.

This is all to the bad, of course, but it sits on a sandy foundation.  Simply put, Donald Trump will never win the general election.  The nightmare scenario is just that, a nasty dream, not a vision of the future. If he wins the Republican nomination (a distinct possibility from where we sit today - although it will be close)  it will break that party into pieces. It would require a badly fractured, multi-ballot convention that would play out in the media in real time exposing all of the ugly fractures within the party.  The party establishment, already nauseated by his theatrics and bruised from losing will either refuse to support him, or coalesce around a third-party run by a runner up, perhaps a Rubio/Kasich ticket, or Bush/Christie pairing.  There is a precedent for this, albeit not a pleasant one, in the actions of the Dixiecrat/white supremacist/segregationist faction within Democratic party in 1948.

Unwilling to support the party nominee (Harry Truman running on a platform that contained some mildly civil rights-oriented planks), they split from the party, set up a convention, and nominated South Carolina Governor Strom Thurmond for President, with Mississippi Governor Fielding Wright as his running mate.  They appeared on the ballot in thirteen southern states. Remarkably, they won the electoral college in four states (LA, MS, AL, and SC).  What is important for our story here is that once the election was over, the dissidents returned to the Democratic party without fanfare and without punishment, as they had run no local or state candidates, only the top of the ticket.

Should Trump win the nomination, he will quickly face a challenge from the Republican Chamber of Commerce/Wall Street establishment, who would rather see a President Hillary Clinton(or President Bernie Sanders) than President Donald Trump.  The establishment would work first and foremost to shore up their control of the Senate.  The pledges made by all of Republican candidates to support the eventual nominee are about as binding as Velcro: easily pulled off the moment one needs to do so.  The Republican national committee will bend over backwards to help this - setting aside rules and protocols so that whatever form the third party takes it will get on the ballot in most states - including simply taking over the ballot spots of the many perennial third-parties that get on the ballot on states across the country.  Most will happily be bought off.

But back to my point - the progressive case for Donald Trump.  I am of the opinion that Hillary Clinton is poison to the progressive wing of the Democratic Party.  On nearly every single issue she stands in opposition to progressive ideals.  She was wrong on the Iraq War(s), wrong on Guantanamo, wrong on NSA wire-tapping, wrong on bank bail-outs, wrong on (so-called) free trade, and wrong on "too big to fail".  She was a guiding light in the now defunct Democratic Leadership Council that sold the party out to Wall Street, and appears incapable of sticking to any principle save self-preservation.  She will continue to be dogged by ethics concerns, and the e-mail server issue will rear its ugly head throughout the next twelve months (even though it is spurious as a legal and ethical issue - it does call into question her judgement).  In the end, Clinton is unlikely to win the presidency - she does not create the kind of excitement that President Obama did as a candidate, the critical African-American and Latino/a voters who propelled his elections will not turn out in the same numbers to support Clinton.  There is no evidence that she has generated that level of enthusiasm.  Above and beyond that, as some have said, the presidency is not something to passed back-and-forth between a few families.  If she is elected, every election since 1980 will revolve around someone in the immediate Bush/Clinton political family tree.  That isn't democracy, but aristocracy (at its worst, and banana republic chicanery at best).

I argue that progressive and liberals should want to see Trump win the Republican nomination.  I make this argument because this would present the strongest possible scenario for Senator Bernie Sanders to win the nomination of the Democratic Party and to win the general election.  At its simplest, in a scenario where the Republican and conservative vote is divided between two candidates, Candidate Sanders would then stand to pick-up the few critical swing states to the Democratic column - think Ohio, Virginia, Colorado, and the all-important Colorado.  It would improve Democratic changes in West Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina, and Indiana as well, currently assumed to be lost to the party for a generation.  It would assure that Pennsylvania stays in the (D) column.  The enthusiasm for a Sanders candidacy would bring voters to the pools in states where the Republican senatorial candidates or incumbents are weak or out-of-step with the general political tenor of their states.

Okay, what are some of the (remote) dangers if this scenario does not play out well?

No candidate wins a majority of the Electoral College.  This outcome throws the election into Congress, with the House selecting the president and the Senate the vice-president.  Simply put, this would absolutely assure that Trump would not be elected president.  House and Senate Republicans would support the establishment candidate, and given their control over both houses would do so quickly. 30 state delegations in the House are majority Republican - and only the votes of 26 states are necessary to select the president.  In the Senate, votes are by individual, with a Republican majority, the Establishment (third-party) Republican would win.   In an ideal scenario, especially in the House, enough tea party/freedom caucus Republicans would threaten to support Trump (since the House may select from the top three candidates) that Establishment Republicans would be forced to make a deal with Democrats for their votes- opening up all sorts of possibilities for extracting concessions.  However, this scenario is highly implausible - in part because it has happened only twice in our history, and in the period before strong party affiliation emerged.

The anti-establishment, and xenophobic sentiments that Trump has tapped prove uncontrollable, and the election campaign is marred by ever-more outlandish rhetoric and episodes of violence.  Frankly, I see this as extremely unlikely.  The vast majority of Trump's supporters are not bad people, but rather the very sorts of working-class white and rural Americans that the last 35 years of economic change have effectively abandoned to their fates.  They have been duped by Establishment Republicans since 1980s, used as voting fodder spurred by cultural issues and then shunted aside the day after the election and given nothing in return except economic policies that have devastated their livelihoods.  They believe that the Democratic Party has decided to ignore them in favor of an electoral strategy that relies on urban voters on the two coasts and in the major interior cities and suburbs.  When was the last time a Democratic president did anything for Appalachia?  Maybe Lyndon Johnson.  They believe that they and their children bear the brunt of the nation's wars because the children of the middle class do not serve.  The failures at the Veteran's Administration were a political football for the middle-class and the elites in both parties, something to be consumed while reading the Wall Street Journal or listening to NPR, but for Trump's supporters represented a fundamental betrayal and insult to their sacrifices. What I am trying to get at here is that it is unlikely that his supporters will turn to violence.  They see themselves as law-abiding in a system that has become law-less.  That commitment is central to their understanding of the world - duty, sacrifice, and loyalty.  Most are simply frustrated (and rightly so - which is why they ought to see common cause with the Black Lives Matter movement) by a political and economic system that either ignores them or treats them like rubes.

Donald Trump wins.  We must admit to this possibility, but it is less dire than it sounds.  For all of his bluster on certain issues he appears to glide a relatively moderate social and economic stance. Some may recall the election of Jessie Ventura to the governorship of Minnesota.  He won the election on the basis of his personality and a studied disregard for the advice and predictions of the punditry, and the establishment of both parties.  However, once in office he was singularly unable to accomplish anything significant.  The Democrats and Republicans in the Minnesota legislature, and in the state's congressional delegation refused to work with him.  A Trump president would be a lonely president, thwarted at every turn by the lack of a support base on Congress. 





Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Sadie

Sit, children, and I'll tell you of the time I was a dog owner for three days.

My last essay mentioned my excitement in becoming a dog owner.  I come to you today as a former dog owner.  

My last picture: Sadie, as happy as ever, on our car trip to her new home.
It wasn't Sadie.  She was wonderful in those few days she was with me; in fact she was a better dog than most humans deserve and a tribute to dogs as a species. She was loving and gentle and happy: always happy.  She could bust out of any enclosure, but instead of chewing on the furniture or playing with the knives after doing so, she would lie on her spot on the couch and wait for me to get home.  I wish anything in this world gave me the joy she experienced from a simple belly rub.  We could walk four miles and instead of crashing when we got home she'd thrash her stuffed elephant with reckless abandon. When she was excited to see you her tail would break the sound barrier and when she disagreed with your decision her "side-eye" would make a teenager proud.  

It wasn't my facilities.  True, my house was far too small for a 48lb bundle of high energy, and my lack of a fenced-in yard made both exercise and going potty more labor intensive than it should have been.  Those were challenges, but challenges that time and love could overcome.

It was me.  It didn't take me long to learn that Sadie deserved far better than I could give her.  I'd never had a dog, and even growing up we'd never had an inside dog.  I had been caught up in the "idea" of a dog, and this had separated me from the "reality" of being a dog owner.  Sadie, as wonderful as she was, soon became a chore.  I wasn't ready to be the center of another being's world.  I wasn't ready to change everything in my life so that she could be happy and healthy in hers. I was a great owner those three days out of obligation, not out of love.  Such obligation is the road to resentment.   Sadie was far too good of a dog to be resented; I had to give her up.  

Sadie and I made our final 90 mile drive yesterday, and as befits her character, she was an angel.  You can see photo evidence above: this ball of energy was crammed into a passenger seat and her "luggage" meant there was no room for her to move.  She smiled the whole trip, sitting up to see the sights, or lying down with her head on my right arm like a pillow. Sadie is now at her (human) maternal grandparents, long-time dog owners, in a house three times as big as mine.  She's now lord and protector of a fenced-in yard the size of a football field.  

You can argue that I did the mature thing, realizing even after a short period of time that dog ownership wasn't right for me.  You can argue that I did the immature thing, giving up so easily.  This much I know: I learned a great deal about myself in those three days, and I experienced a slice of life with a tremendous canine.  I will miss Sadie for sure, but she's happy, in a wonderful home with wonderful people, and when I got home last night I felt no regret, only relief.


Sunday, December 6, 2015

Joy at the return of my collaborator

This blog has been quiet for sometime, my collaborator took an extended hiatus, and I have been only episodically engaged.  However, the internet is forever, in a manner of speaking, and so, perhaps we are now at the dawn of a new period of activity here at Workaday Dream.

Glad to have you back my friend, glad indeed.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Giving Thanks

It's been 21 months since I posted anything to this space.  That's the kind of consistency that builds an audience :-).  But here, on a rainy Thanksgiving Night, I feel like writing.  This is a holiday for giving thanks and for reflection.  So here I go, reflecting.  And stuff.

2015 has been complicated.  In a less contemplative mood, I would describe it as the worst year of my life: in fact, I have done so.   In September 2014, my paternal grandmother died. She was 88, in pain, had 11 healthy adult children, and by all metrics had led a full life.  It could always be worse, right? Two months later, my maternal grandfather is in intensive care, knocking on death's door.  While his convalescence has been long and not without bumps in the road, he is still kicking.  Two months after that, in early January 2015, his youngest child, my aunt Joy, died of a MRSA infection after surgery, age 48.  Two weeks later, Joy's mother, my grandmother, passed after several years of dementia.   

Whether I acknowledged it or not, these all too frequent visits from the grim reaper impacted me a great deal.  I coped with a winter of loss and existential angst by playing video games and eating everything in sight.  When I returned to my normal pattern of exercise in the early spring, I found that I was more than out of shape: my left chest began to hurt nearly all the time and exerting myself seemed to make it worse.  At times I was out of breath for no reason, sighing constantly in an attempt keep up with the demand for oxygen.    Heart palpitations the evening of May 9th placed a visiting friend in the awkward position of taking me to the Emergency Room.  High blood pressure they said, but no other signs of heart attack.  Still the chest pain, the high heart rate, the occasional shortness of breath persisted.  Two weeks later my GP used the term Angina.  That's a fancy medical term for the pain and shortness of breath caused by clogged coronary arteries that are unable to supply blood to the heart muscle.  Angina is a sign of heart disease ... and of future heart attack.  I was referred to the Cardiologist ... at 33 years old I was going to a specialist to verify that I had heart disease.

To say that the human brain is a mystery is akin to saying that the universe is big.  It just doesn't do it justice.  My brain, presented with the possibility that it might be riding the good ship Matt to the bottom of the ocean, did not take it all in stride.  In the span of just a few weeks I sent WebMD to record profits.   I can't describe health anxiety any better than this: at some time between the end of May and the end of August 2015 it seemed perfectly reasonable to me that not only might I have heart disease, but also very possibly Multiple Sclerosis, Lymphoma, Lung Cancer, Multiple System Atrophy, and ALS.  It seems so silly now, but at the time I was dead serious.  I lost 30 lbs in a few weeks, motivated purely by fear. So fervent was my obsession with my left calf being smaller than my right one that I lost sleep over it, and asked multiple coworkers if they saw it too.  I was miserable and I was miserable to be around.

Thousands of dollars in tests later, the picture is clearer.  I don't have heart disease, not yet anyway.  A heart placed under strain by anxiety, excessive caffeine, and intense exercise? that I do have.  Acid reflux?  That I do have.  A left rib that is prone to pop out of place and cause mild pain?  Check.  Mild carpal tunnel in my left wrist?  You betcha.  Tight fascia/muscle knot in my left calf, and a dominate right calf to begin with?  Guilty.  

Compounding my health anxiety was work-related stress.  In April I interviewed for a job, obsessed over preparation for it ... and then didn't get it.  I decided to stifle my ennui and return to my current position with a promotion (which I am grateful for).  Then, we had 6 (eventually 7) new staff members who needed to be trained and ready to go out and crush it.  Then, in late August I learned that I'd need to be covering our recruitment travel in Chicago this fall, which sent me as close to a nervous breakdown as I've been.

Fast forward, and now I sit here on Thanksgiving 2015 as happy as I've been in a long time. In the late Summer I went to a professional counselor a few times, and it was tremendously cathartic.  The Chicago travel was greatly inconvenient, but I believe that the change of scenery, the delicious food, and the sheer fact that I made it through the semester helped me. October was a huge month: I turned 33, I saw my first professional stage show (Wicked, a show I am unhealthily fond of), the Royals won the World Series, and I bought a PS4, a $350 investment that has been worth it 10 times over.  

Even more, about a week from now I'm getting a dog and I couldn't be more excited. Sadie's her name, and she's coming from great owners that, although heartbroken, simply can't have her anymore. I've never met her, and she has no idea that in 10 days her doggy dogg world will turn upside down, but I know that we'll be perfect for each other.  Maybe we'll even have crime fighting adventures like Turner and Hooch.  


I don't know what lies ahead for me in the next few months.  It's entirely possible that Sadie may be the third or fourth most substantial life change for me in the coming year and that's exciting to contemplate.  I won't miss 2015, but I'm certainly happy to be here.

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Going Forward or Dying Slowly?

I am getting antsy, professionally and personally.  I am in a rut on both accounts and this should be understood quite broadly.  The advantage of this blog is that absolutely no one is reading it aside from me, perhaps not even my collaborator at this point, so I feel a certain freedom here that I lack elsewhere.

I no longer have the fire of teaching, part of this is a consequence of the lack of variation.  I teach the same three classes over and over again, one class I teach two sections every semester, and it is exhausting to see the same errors over and over again.  I often simply don't care enough to prep because I can do the lectures in my sleep now.  I have difficulty looking at twenty-five or thirty more years of this, nor do I relish the thought of more pointless meetings.

I want out of southern California, weather aside there is little else to commend the place.  At some point one has to decide for whom one is living, right?  Is the job more important than quality of life?  This is more than an academic question (haha!) for me.  I am the job, in both the best and worst readings of that phrase.  I have made some terrible personal decisions based on the assumption that I am the job, that I have worked for years to be the job, and that has led me to break off relationships or allow others to wither on the vine (in retrospect).  What has this yielded me thus far?  Long hours, two professor of the year nominations, no spouse and no children.  And perhaps I am losing that love of the job as well.  Is that a reasonable yield?

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Freshman, ah hum.

In what now I can only assume was a fit of misguided duty and intrigue, I agreed to teach a Freshman Seminar (although we now call these First-Year Seminars) this fall.  Although I am trained as a historian I do not teach in a history department, so I viewed this as an opportunity to return to my training.  As anyone who knows who follows the academic hiring market, jobs, especially tenure-track positions (heck, even permanent, decent full-time positions that allow for something resembling a decent life) are rare, so rare, that I was forced to look outside my training, and luckily, found a good school and a good department that appreciates the training I worked so hard to acquire. 

However, that opportunity came with a price, and that was teaching business ethics, and a quasi-history course on US business history, but only between 1860 and 1932 (a curious cut-off, no?).