Tag Archives: Iowa

Light a Candle and Make a Change


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I wish that there had been more people there, but at least some people were there, and I hope it’s a start of something.

I attended a candlelight vigil in a parking lot across the street from the Federal Courthouse in Cedar Rapids Thursday night. It was a bit informal, two speakers, the reading of names of victims from El Paso and Dayton, a moment of silence.

The location was just across the street from the handiest local symbol of the federal government, and the building where U.S. Senators from Iowa have their offices.

Memo to members of Congress: It’s 2019. 2020 is coming, and I sincerely we don’t forget what you say or fail to say at this moment.

Anyway, I took my camera, hoping a few images can help boost the signal. It was nice to see my sister and sister-in-law there, and I’m glad my wife decided to come down with me. I also ran into some Sisters of Mercy, who were nice to see.

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But my candle kept going out. Somehow, it felt like a symbol of the whole advocacy effort for sensible policy steps to reduce gun violence—our President says there is no political appetite for that at the moment. Sadly, he may not be wrong. If Democrats are to be elected next year in Iowa, we have to hold on, hold together, speak up and fight the headwinds of violent status quo.

It’s not time for gun reform now? Not after El Paso, Dayton, The Pulse, Sandy Hook?

My candle keeps going out. But I will keep on relighting it. The winds blow, but I will not be moved.

Enough. Time for change.

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Candidates Hot to Beat Trump


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It was hot Sunday, so I feel like I made a minor sacrifice as part of my civic duty.
I braved the heat to hear a number of Democrats who want to be my president speak. I think the Gazette did a fair and accurate summary of the event in their story.
For me, even the crazy author lady who doesn’t stand a chance would still be a smarter, more qualified president than the current occupant. President Trump, with his recent tweet storm, shows that his instinct is to shout, divide and do damage to democracy, all in the name of drawing attention and firing up the basest instincts of his 40 percent base.
I want him gone, now more than ever. Sure, the Obama recovery is continuing, but at the cost of piling up debt by cutting taxes and boosting arms spending at the same time—an old way of gunning the economy that is not long-term sustainable.
And on any other metric other than economics—international relationships, rule of law, sane immigration policy, the environment, race relations, women’s and minorities’ advancement and rights—this president has not only not made any progress, he has dedicated himself to doing real harm.
He didn’t drain the swamp. He brought in dumber alligators.
So, I showed up on a hot Sunday knowing that I am lucky, as an Iowan, to be able to help weed out this field of candidates. I get to start the process that leads to the nominee who (knock on wood) will crush Trump in fall of 2020.
Say what you will about Tangerine Hitler, besides energizing the basket of deplorables, he’s certainly energized us Democrats. Yet, just as he is not the whole problem in the Republican party, being against him can’t be the whole message for the Democrats.
We know what we don’t want—Trump. What do we want?
Well, of the numerous speakers who appeared Sunday, three stood out to me:
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Amy Klobuchar, senator form Minnesota. “America needs a president who tells the truth,” she said, and I agree. Truth telling is not a long Washington tradition; most politicians, including Democrats, spin. But the current occupant actively and intuitively lies, which is part of the caustic poison of the Trump era.
Klobuchar appeals to me for several reasons. I don’t think being a woman is the key qualifier for office, but I’m inclined to support a woman, if I can. It’s long past time for a madam president.
And Klobuchar is a folksy, talented speaker. She had many resonate lines, including stating that as president she would “stand with our allies and not coddle dictators.”
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Julián Castro, former HUD secretary and former mayor of San Antonio, Texas. My third choice, foreshadowing, is Pete Buttigieg, and Castro reminds me of him. But Castro is a bit older and has more national political experience as a former cabinet member—the biggest reason I hesitate with Buttigieg is my feeling he’s not quite ready for the top job. Castro is a slightly older, more experience former mayor.
Castro is a decent story teller, and that’s an important presidential skill. I liked his short anecdote about the phone call from Barack Obama that lifted Castro on to the national stage: “If you ever get a phone call from a number that says ‘private,’ answer it,” he said. “It might be me (after he is elected president).”
I guess my reasons for picking Castro are also a bit personal and idiosyncratic. He’s from San Antonio, city that gave America one of my daughters-in-law. Hola Nalena! Then again, I’m sure that the fact Amy Klobuchar’s dad was a newspaperman doesn’t hurt her, in my book.
Anyway, Castro scored one of the biggest applause lines of the cattle calls when he set up the scene of him saying goodbye to President Trump, the helicopter in the background at the White House, newly sworn in President Castro shaking Donald Trump’s hand, and his final word to the Don: Adios!
That is what we all want to say to Donald Trump, unless it’s “you’re fired!”
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Pete Buttigieg, mayor of South Bend, Indiana. The fresh new face of the party, a clear crowd favorite, and it’s easy to see why. He’s bright, he’s witty and he appears thoughtful.
And he’s the anti-Trump—a soft-spoken, gay, military veteran who is a sharp young contrast to the grumpy old man.
“We may be under reacting to the moment we are in,” Buttigieg said, partly referencing Trump’s infamous Sunday morning rant.
Buttigieg had several political warnings for Democrats. One, that the party does not do well just winning the presidency back. He pledged to help other Democrats.
In Iowa, we need to keep Abby in Congress, send Steve King back to Kiron and get a senate candidate who can knock out Joni Ernst. None of those will be easy—and taking back the House and Senate are important in 2020. Buttigieg was not the only candidate to point that out, but he did it the best.
He also noted that the country does not need a “return to normal.” He said that message won’t beat Trump, and “normal does not work anymore.”
One of his lines particularly resonated with me: “Freedom is not a conservative value; it is an American value.”
I faded a bit as the candidates droned on—it was darn hot. Luckily, I had picked a patch of shade to loiter in, and my only wish would have been a place to sit down.
Still, I enjoyed a New Bo lunch, had a refreshing glass of hard cider and also heard and saw a political party that is fired up.
I’m not ready to declare for any of my three favorites, yet. I’m also interested in some candidate who did not make it to the Sunday event in Cedar Rapids, especially Senator Harris. I’m sure I’ll spend some time on web sites like this one.
But I do know which party I’ll favor in 2020. Democrats, we will be fighting it out over the next few months during the caucus and primary season, and 2020 already is shaping up to be a rough, nasty election. Whatever happens, though, I was heartened on Sunday to see so many qualified women and men who can see themselves as president.
I can only hope one of them is right. We desperately need a new direction after the dumpster fire that was Donald Trump.

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Filed under Freedom, History, Journalism, politics

Love in the Time of Peonies


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Peony blooming in front garden. With ant.

I feel like I’m visiting my gardens now and then. We are travelling a lot this summer, so my relationship with the changing scenery outside is snapshots rather than the continuous story.

Not that I’m complaining. I loved the time in California, and I look forward to journeys to Okoboji and then England.

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June 2019–Milkweed getting tall.

Spring has turned to early summer. Biking to campus today, I noticed a great patch of peonies on the back entrance leading to the library.

Peonies are popping all over town. They are barely getting going in my own gardens, but they are starting. Early in June, I’m enjoying irises, clematis, new phlox we planted this spring. It was a hard winter in my yards—four trees either completely died or were severely damaged, including a cottonwood (what kind of cottonwood can’t take a Midwest winter?).

But you can’t feel sad about winter losses in the time of Peonies. A soft scent, big showy flowers, vibrant colors. I love peonies, and they are a sign that summer is underway.

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First Flowers of 2019 Arrive


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March 23, 2019–First flowers of spring include this crocus in my backyard.

The creek behind my house has returned to its banks, and the Cedar River is dropping for now. We’ve been lucky in my area, I hope my western Iowa and Nebraska neighbors can recover from this sudden, wet spring.

Today was the final Saturday of spring break, and I spent a fair amount if it indoors vainly battling with the mountain of grading Which Must Be Done By Monday.

But for a while this afternoon, I was in the backyard, cleaning debris of winter off of gardens, giving the barren yard a quick rake and scattering grass seed.

Spring may be extraordinarily busy, but it’s still a season of hope. And today, the colors started to appear. I saw a crocus in bloom in the yard, and I know others are poking up. In the garden by the rock wall, some snowdrops are showing their pretty white selves.

No squib yet, but I’m sure it’s on its way. Many daffodils and tulips are starting to push through the thawing ground, and some hyacinth look ready to bloom in a few days.

The world is still largely brown and the ice hills by the parking lots have not yet melted. Flood risk is still with us, as snow north is still melting and rain may fall on sodden ground.

But for today, I saw flowers, and that’s something. The brown season is coming to its end, and everywhere, green is poised to emerge and colors are ready to appear.

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Bad Political Ideas


The Gazette recently ran an editorial that resonates with me. “Iowa Senate Should Drop Flawed Election Bill” ran the headline.

The Gazette is right. The bill that prompted the editorial is truly terrible. It would end any satellite voting at state universities, and also ask all college students to sign an affidavit attesting intention to live in Iowa in order to not be dropped from voting rolls.

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Front page of March 14 MMU Times. I hope all Iowa college campus newspapers are full of outrage over this awful law.

The first idea is not just voter suppression, but doubly damaging since it is directly counter to the need to draw young people into political life. It’s not as if college age people are over voting.

And as for the second idea—say what? When I retire, they won’t ask me if I plan to stay in Iowa. And suppose I do plan to move—that does not justify taking away my vote.

I’m not often moved to contact my state lawmakers, but I’m planning to, on this issue. It seems some elected officials in Des Moines are on the attack against the very foundation of representative government. Shame on them.

Speaking of shame, the Iowa king of shame, Rep. Steve King, has been at it again, posting a weird meme that seems to promote civil war–and that identifies Iowa as being on the liberal side of that conflict. Well, at least the crazy Congressman of western Iowa and I can agree on one thing–I would like to see a more blue Iowa, too.

Seth Meyers does a good takedown of King’s terrible moment:

 

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In Praise of Snow Removal Technology


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My snow blower Monday morning, when I had just cleared the drive from the last snow storm.

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It must be a sign of advancing age. For much of my adult life, I clung to the romance of the snow shovel—if white ice crystals were to be moved by a human, I would do it the manly way, with back and arm and muscle and bone and grit.

And now, the heck with it.

Several years ago, concerned, legitimately, with the health of my aging body, my wife suggested that we purchase a snow blower.

I do not seek proximity to gasoline fumes, and the noise of an engine totally lacks charm, for me. Yet snow removal can be back-breaking labor. I have arthritis in my knees and a history of lower back pain—where my bones meet other tissue, there seems too often seem to be issues that aren’t aided by heavy shoveling.

And there is the heart, that key organ of life, which I would like to keep going, thank you. Old men sometimes expire from the exertion of snow shoveling. Walking behind a smelly, noisy snow blower might not be all that pleasant, but I’m sure it beats having my heartbeat interrupted by a heart attack.

The blower that my wife and I purchased was the second one that we owned—I had many years ago inherited a small electric blower from my father, but it had a gap in its auger (the turning thing at the front that lifts snow), and never worked all that well. The gasoline using model that we purchased for ourselves seems to do the trick more effectively.

Except when it’s broken—a year after we purchased it, I broke the starting chord. I purchased a new chord at a local hardware store and attempted to replace it, and failed badly. The snow blower sat idle through a couple of mild winters, but, thanks again to my wife and to my two sons, over Christmas this year a new chord module was installed.

The best kind of mechanical work in my house happens while I blog and stay away from tools.

Snow is falling tonight. I had to babysit some grandkids, and was out in it. Please don’t hate me, but when I went to drive home in it, I did think it was pretty—silent white flakes drifting from the sky and coating the world in a fresh white cover. Yes, it’s the second half of February, yes, the active weather pattern we are in will be best looked back on than lived through. But snow is pretty.

Then again, I’m ready for spring. Nevertheless, come what may, this fragile old coot feels he can handle the Iowa winter.

I have a snow blower.

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Lazy Snow Day


The start of spring semester always feels abrupt—winter term blending into spring term with no time to catch your breath.

Of course, catching your breath was a challenge today anyway. The low tonight should set a record, somewhere near 30 below. Last night, the low temperature itself was not quite as brutal, but the wind chill was more serious, making it feel like 55 degrees below zero. European readers, I don’t what that is in Celsius, but these Fahrenheit temperatures mean it was seriously cold.

Classes at the university where I teach are rarely cancelled, but they were today.

So, my first goal for the unexpected lazy day was to sleep in. And around 6 a.m., there I was, wide awake. I would have rather been wide asleep (I’m wide in both states), but I guess my body was primed to greet the new day. Goal one blown.

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I fixed waffles and sausage for breakfast, a second goal of the day. My wife and I agreed that they turned out very well—she had purchased some whole milk because it’s good for cooking things like waffles—so goal number two was well met.

Goal three was to set up my class grade books and enter grades. Goal half done—I did manage to set them up, but did not enter grades, yet. Still, setting up the books will take longer than entering an assignment, so it’s at least half a win.

Otherwise, it was mostly a quiet day. My main goal was to hunker down all day and avoid the outdoors, but near noon, my wife suggested trying the bubble machine, just to see what it would do in the cold, so a silly few minutes were spent outside.

Thus, the stay indoors all day goal was partly broken—although most of the day was spent inside. The day felt a little odd, an out-of-phase lazy day, a misplaced Saturday that was honestly more lazy than most Saturdays are, but maybe that’s good.

I was glad I had filled the birdfeeders yesterday—no way would I do it today. The birds looked like little tennis balls today, all puffed up. I was glad to have supplied them some calories, which I’m sure they needed. Mostly I was glad that I was looking at them through the windows of a warm house.

The big chill is tonight and then the dip of the polar air is done, at least for now. While I appreciate the break, I’ll appreciate the end of the vortex even more.

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