Our Dumb Blog

I’m uninterested in politics most of the time. This is in stark contrast to my fascination with policy, and I’m generally only interested in politics insofar as it consistently prevents good policy. Politics has probably never been mostly about policy, but we’ve reached a point where the two are now completely divorced. This seems obvious to me, but it seems worth pointing out. Like most of the rest of the country, I’ve been thinking a lot about politics this week. From most of what I’ve read, however, it seems that I haven’t been thinking about it in the same way.

Ezra Klein is a dude that is pretty obsessed with politics, and he’s said a few things this week that I agree with. He’s a solidly left-wing progressive Democrat, is clearly crushed and surprised by this election, but has an important message for Democrats: at this moment you can choose curiosity or contempt. While contempt is natural, we’re all better off if you pick curiosity. If you think you have it in you to be curious about how Democrats lost so badly, his podcast this week with a Republican pollster is worth your time: https://www.nytimes.com/…/ezra-klein-podcast-patrick…

And now for my thoughts. My personal policy positions are complicated. I mention them here to ground my perspective for the comments that follow. Chances are good that no matter who you are, there are significant policy issues that I disagree with you about. In a lot of ways my views are pretty Libertarian–I’d describe myself as a classical liberal who believes that freedom is usually the right answer. I believe that the most important thing a government should do is protect the freedom of all of its citizens. I’m in favor of open borders, bodily autonomy (including the right to abortion), legalized drugs, freedom of religion, freedom from religion and freedom from government wherever possible. I believe that the free market is very often the right answer, that capitalism is a net good, and 2% year-over-year GDP growth is one of the most important and powerful forces to shape our future. I’m pro big-tech, and I don’t think it’s up to the government to protect you or your kids from social media. I don’t think dealing drugs, doing drugs, gambling or prostitution should be a crime. On the other hand, I hold many positions that are anathema to libertarianism: I think guns should be illegal. I think taxation and government services are not just required in some areas, but are an unquestionable force that can be used to shape the world for the better. I’m deeply convinced that socialized healthcare is an obvious public good, and I’m in favor of some amount of wealth redistribution. I think a strong welfare state is not just a moral imperative, but a clear benefit to all. I think the government should tax and invest heavily in science research and also the arts. Lest you think I’m a complete economic progressive: I think rent control is terrible, government subsidies for higher education is a bad idea, free college tuition worse, and student loan forgiveness is unconscionable. The mortgage interest deduction is stupid, and businesses should mostly be allowed to business until they prove they can’t be trusted. I could go on, but I think my point is clear: you and I probably don’t agree. My positions are carefully considered, evidence-based and frequently change based on new evidence. I love arguing about policy, and will often tell you that you’re wrong even if I agree with you.

That’s policy–but what about politics? In the culture wars, I’m mostly on Team Blue. There isn’t really a rational choice here, but I suspect it has mostly to do with personality type–specifically openness to experience which means I’m just going to more naturally align with Team Blue. While I don’t agree with most of the policy positions of most Democrats or Republicans, I have a visceral, deep-seated dislike for most Republican politicians as a result of their rhetoric. It’s the party of fear–fear of terrorists, immigrants, change. Until COVID, it was even the party that feared plagues (remember Ebola?).

I could never vote for Trump–the list of reasons should be obvious, but I’ll go ahead and spell out the important ones to me. On policy, Trump has mostly failed to articulate a single believable policy position, but everything he’s said is a terrible idea. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to explain why they’re all bad. But you’re not interested in a policy discussion, and chances are good you either agree with me that they’re bad policy because you think Trump is evil, or you think they’re probably fine because Trump is on your side. But policy isn’t the big reason. The big reason isn’t because he’s a threat to democracy (he is, but I think our democracy is stronger than that); the big reason is because he’s a bully. He’s interested primarily in his own self-interest, but is also deeply committed to supporting his tribe, regardless of who he has to squash to get there. And yet I totally understand the appeal. If you’d asked me to predict the election (you didn’t), I would have told you the best evidence I had is that the odds were even and I can’t do much better than that. But if you’d forced me to bet one way or the other, I’d have bet on Trump.

The Democratic party likes to think of itself as the party of inclusivity, diversity and openness. I think this was probably true until recently, but now there’s a lot of fear, maybe just as much as the Republicans. The fear of being subjected to conservative religious rule, the fear of being persecuted for being different, the fear of living in a world where single moms can’t afford groceries or healthcare, the fear of big tech controlling our lives just to sell another ad. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate.

And this leads me to my message for Team Blue: I can’t believe how much hate there is on the left now. I know some of it feels justified–it’s okay to hate Nazis, right? But you’ve gone too far. I’m shocked to find out just how much that I, someone who thought of myself as a member of Team Blue, is now in the crosshairs. As a Jew (not of the religious variety, but of the Hitler-killed-my-family-and-would-kill-me variety), I’m no longer allowed to stand up for Israel because you’ve decided the Palestinians have it worse. I’m not allowed to have an opinion on the benefits of colorblindness and the dangers of anti-racism because I’m white. I’m no longer allowed to speak the English language as I learned it. I stand by your right to be identified as any gender you like as well as your right to change your mind about that gender as often as you like. But why is it that I’m not allowed to complain that it’s nearly impossible for me to parse “they” as a singular pronoun? Maybe it seems like petty complaints to you, but to me it feels like I’m not welcome. And if you’re kicking me off the team because my views are “problematic”, what about all the people who are even more distant than me? Do you not see how small your group has become? Are you really surprised that the Hispanics you keep referring to as “Latinx”, when they themselves hate the term, think voting for you is dangerous? Are you really surprised that there are lots of women who feel alienated by your insistence that the phrase “pregnant women” is offensive, and that maybe a Trump vote feels safer to them?

The demographic shift toward Trump isn’t any one thing. Lots of people voted for Trump because they blame Biden for inflation. Nevermind that inflation was a deliberate and correct policy choice–the same choice that Trump made at the beginning of the pandemic (remember the checks he mailed so you’d see his signature on them?), and the one that Biden stuck with in the end. It’s hard to know how much of the inflation was caused by supply shocks and how much was a result of fiscal policy, and how much was because we just handed out too much money. But it was deliberate, and it worked. A couple years of inflation with high employment was well-worth avoiding a recession.

But the anger and hatred and casting out of those who disagree with you isn’t helping anything. If you can’t figure out how to make space for people with beliefs that are different than yours, things are not going to get any better. You may think that a second Trump presidency is the scariest thing you can imagine–but so many of the people who voted for him are just as scared of the world where the Democrats are in charge. It’s up to you to be less scary.

We were supposed to be flying into Nashville for the last weekend of October for the annual Rally for the Lane, where we get to drive museum cars. This year was particularly exciting because the destination was an airplane museum! But the weather forecast didn’t look good. Seems there was a hurricane heading straight for Tennessee.

Then we each woke up on the morning of Monday, September 23 with a sore throat. Monday night was pretty terrible. Berck took a test Tuesday morning, while I took out the garbage to the street. Wednesday is our trash day, but apparently, my brain fog was hitting pretty hard. Berck didn’t even have to wait 15 minutes; the line popped up immediately. Then he tried to go to his 10 a.m. Zoom meeting, lasted about five minutes, and then crawled back into bed, where he stayed for four days.

Tuesday night was really bad. Symptoms were congestion and body aches, hips for Berck and low back for me. Berck had a cough, but I didn’t.

We slept in separate bedrooms, so we wouldn’t wake the other up coughing or tossing and turning. Normally, one of us would have moved into the downstairs bedroom, but a mouse died down there, and we haven’t been able to find it, and it smelled bad.

Wednesday night was better. I propped myself up on a pile of pillows so the phlegm in my lungs would have a harder time making it to my head.

I kept working (I did lie down for a couple of hours on Tuesday). Sitting in a reclining chair with my laptop doing tasks was a good way to distract myself from not being able to breath through my nose.

The morning of Thursday, September 26, I offered to make Berck some decaf PG Tips tea. When I brought him his cuppa, he asked, “Why does it taste better when I make it than when you do?” He’s not wrong.

“It doesn’t taste like much of anything to me either,” I replied.

“Oh,” he said, “Is that what’s going on?”

So one of us could move to the downstairs bedroom, if we wanted to.

At least we were surrounded by some beautiful aspens we wouldn’t get to enjoy otherwise that weekend.

Both of us are feeling better Friday, September 27. Berck actually got out of bed and dressed and sat outside in the sun for a while. I actually walked to the mailbox (0.2 of a mile one way) and back, so I got to see more beautiful aspens.

As I was getting close to the mailbox, a pick-up pulled up to it and someone climbed out to get their mail. That’s OK, I thought, I’ll just walk a little slower. Then an SUV pulled up behind the pick-up truck and waited for their turn! Fortunately, both of them finished before I got to the mailbox, though I did slow my pace quite a bit. We all did the obligatory wave neighbors must do to each other when we pass by.

I lost 4 lbs in a week. Our appetite came back, though our sense of smell was gone. I took advantage of this by making popcorn and tuna fish salad, two things Berck hates when I make because he doesn’t like the smell, but he didn’t notice.

Berck’s mom had some Grandma’s Soup ™ and challah bread delivered by UPS, which came just in time, because we’d nearly finished my stock of Progresso in the cupboard (Berck declared one can was dated 12/18/16).

I did do a grocery pick up Sunday, and then made some chicken broth to make chicken noodle soup. The roads, even the road to our place, were clogged with leaf peepers. The leaves were looking good. My sense of smell was kinda glitchy but seemed to be returning. When I released the steam of the pressure cooker, I was overwhelmed with the smell of the aromatics. I asked Berck if he could smell it too, and he said, “Maybe?”

The spot on my thigh that I got in Arkansas in April, that looked like a bug bite and got infected and I had to take oral antibiotics, got red and swollen and itchy again. My hypothesis is that a tick left its head in there (apparently, they actually leave mouth parts, not the whole head) and it can take months before the body gets rid of it. I’m guessing the state of my immune system has something to do with that. Fortunately, it has since stopped itching and gone back to its normal appearance as a round scar.

Sunday Berck had enough energy to work on the rally car so that I could race it at Pueblo. He returned to work Monday. We spent most of that week after work working on the rally car so I could fit in it and reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel. I took a test Tuesday, October 1 and tested negative, so we drove into town to go to the hardware store to get some hardware to adjust the steering wheel.

I always try to have a cooler full of cold beer at the track. After a hot day of driving and wearing a ridiculously insulating fireproof suit, you can’ t wait until the last car comes off the track at the end of the day and someone says, “Track’s cold!” But when we each cracked open a can of our favorite Mexican lager, Victoria, we had the same reaction. Tasted worse than Rolling Rock. The ciders tasted better, maybe because the tongue can still taste sweet. I don’t know how long it will be before a beer tastes as good as it usually does.

It’s now been more than a week since my negative test. I still have some congestion and thick yellow phlegm. I got an e-mail AND a phone call from HR saying I can’t return to the office until I’ve been symptom free for at least 24 hours, so who knows when I’ll be able to go to the office again. Berck has been feeling fatigued and has to cough occasionally.

The rabbis say the sense of smell is the most spiritual of the senses. I keep having episodes where I think the house smells like soup. Apparently, anosmia can cause one’s sense of smell can get stuck on one scent. I have to say the smell of soup is way better than burning or dirty diapers.

I have played every Connections game since it started, until I got Covid. I tried staring at the words, but I just couldn’t figure it out. I’m back to being able to solve them, so I can set my phone calendar back to play the last couple weeks of the ones I’ve skipped.

Last night, or rather early this morning, I woke up around 3 a.m. The cat was curled up next to me, rhythmically breathing, sound asleep. Berck was in the downstairs bedroom because it’s cooler down there, and he makes me leave if I wake him up snoring. I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I scrolled through Facebook, Google News, and Reddit. The cat woke up with my fidgeting, finally leaving the bed around 4, which is around the time he gets up anyway. He yowled at the kitchen window, probably to the neighbor’s visiting black cat, but only for a while. I finally drifted back to sleep around 5.

What seemed like only a few minutes later, I was awoken by a commotion in the kitchen. At first I thought it was the cat clumsily knocking things over, but then I realized it was too loud and kept going on for too long. I saw a light from the direction of the kitchen and figured Berck had gotten up, turned on the light above the stove, and was rummaging around in the cupboard for the Tang. It sounded like he was having trouble finding it, even though I was sure I had left it right in front on the shelf. Then it sounded exactly like he dropped two ice cubes into a glass, which I thought was strange because he doesn’t usually drink Tang with ice. The rummaging eventually stopped, the light went out, and I never heard his footfalls heading back downstairs.

I was pretty annoyed that I had been woken up right when I managed to fall back asleep. I tossed and turned until 7:30, when I decided to just give up and get up. I was even more annoyed when I came into the kitchen and found the cupboard doors still open and some of the contents strewn on the floor. Berck must have had a rough night trying to find the Tang, which, just as I remembered, was right in front on the shelf.

That wasn’t the only thing on the floor. The plunger for the coffee maker and a coffee filter had also fallen down, and the pepper grinder, a bottle of vinegar, and a bottle of olive oil were on their sides on the kitchen counter.

Berck had made me some coffee the day before, which was still sitting on the counter. I poured it into a mug, even though it wasn’t remotely hot, and got a milk carton out of the fridge with just enough milk in it to add to my coffee. I then sipped my drink and stared past the cat, who was sitting in the kitchen windowsill, staring back at me. I thought about how clearly I could see the tree leaves in the front yard and up to the road. It must be my new glasses prescription, I mused. The cat blinked at me from his perch in the open window.

The open window.

My sleep-deprived morning brain finally registered that the reason why I could see so clearly out the window was because the screen was missing. The cat, who is a strictly indoors cat, had not tried to escape through the completely open window, or if he had, had then returned. I went outside to find the screen lying on the ground next to my other hummingbird feeder along with the snapped piece of string that had formerly suspended it from the eaves. The cat swiveled his head around to stare at me through the open window, with me now standing outside the house.

I put the screen back in place. The screen is made of Kevlar to keep the cat from tearing it up. The cat, in fact, can hang his entire body weight from the screen with his claws without damaging the screen. But now there were five indentations in the screen. That would have taken quite a bit of force.

After moving my cat’s paws out of the way and replacing the screen, I came back inside and stared at the open cupboard. There was something missing. I looked back outside.

Yes, that is a completely empty 4.5 lb bag of Nestle chocolate chips from Costco in the front yard. No, there are no chocolate chips left on the ground.

I started chuckling. Berck came upstairs, complaining about the cat making a giant racket in the kitchen that morning, which confirmed what I already knew. It wasn’t Berck rummaging around the kitchen in the middle of the night. A closer inspection of the cupboard doors revealed some new scratches.

Berck checked the cameras.

This is obviously a big problem, however, it’s sadly possibly a self-solving one. Just like for dogs, chocolate is toxic for bears, though it’s unclear how much will kill a bear (though the Internet suggests around 10 lbs will).

We agreed that it was a dang good thing neither of us thought it was actually a home invader in the kitchen, since any confrontation in that confined a space can’t have ended well.