April 17, 2018--Fallout

I have been hearing from angry friends all morning. They are angry with me, actually most are furious with me for agreeing with the likes of Ann Coulter, criticizing the weekend missile strike in Syria.

One said, "So it's OK with you to let Assad get away with using poison gas to kill his people? Did you see those videos of children, babies gasping for their last breath as they vomited and soon died? I can't believe you wouldn't agree with using a targeted missile strike against his chemical weapons facilitates."

"The strike appeared to turn out well." I agreed, "We seem to have managed to avoid killing any Russians. If we had, who knows where this would have led."

"You're avoiding the issue," my friend pressed on, "Even in warfare there are rules and conventions. Combatants agree not to torture prisoners, engage in ethnic cleansing, or, in this case, not use chemical or biological weapons. There is the Geneva Convention that spells out a lot of this. I can't believe you would have not done anything. What Assad did was barbaric."

"I agree with that too," I tried to say. "I even agree with Trump that Assad is a monster. The last I read, he presided over the slaughter of about 600,000 of his own people. Hundreds of thousands more have been crippled and millions have become refugees."

"And, so, if it was up to you you'd stand back and watch this happen?"

"Though I wouldn't put it quite this way, I must admit I probably would. I would not get involved in what's happening on the ground in Syria, that godforsaken place, any more than I was in favor of invading Iraq or, for that matter, getting involved in Vietnam. Where more than 58,000 of our young people were killed, hundreds of thousands more wounded, and at the end of the day we lost the war. Haven't we learned anything from behaving like the world's policeman?"

"But a tyrant deploying poison gas on his own people is not only against the rules of war--what a concept, war having rules--but monstrous."

"I don't know how to put this," I said, "but what's the difference between using gas to kill babies and blowing them up with conventional weapons? Hideous barrel bombs full of shrapnel is seemingly the weapon of choice in Syria for Assad's air force. This is monstrous too so why not, using your logic, go after his air force and the factories where barrel bombs are assembled?"

"I can't believe your lack of anger or passion about this," my friend said.

"Maybe I've gotten to be too old and seen too much evil in my lifetime. That could be what has made me appear to be inured to barbaric behavior of this kind. About that, guilty as charged. But, still, I am not insensitive to this nor am I seeing your distinctions between poison gas and fragmentation bombs, and I am not convinced it's a good idea for us to try to chase down all the Assads of the world. Sadly, there are too many of them and I don't think it's our role to go after all of them."

"There's a point to what you're saying, but complete hands off when there are holocasts going is also not acceptable. I don't know how to determine where to get involved and when to ignore evil behavior, but a version of America First, or anything that smacks of that is not acceptable to me and shouldn't be to you. I know you were a young boy during the Second World War and were aware even then of Hitler's regime--including how some in your family died in concentration camps--and in later years you knew about other atrocities, but you're opting out now is not attractive or, to me, acceptable."

"I love you a lot," I said, "And respect you. I'll have to do some more thinking about this. One thing I won't concede though--all of this is very complicated and can lead to a lot of hypocritical talk and behavior."

January 31, 2018--Mr. Ludwig

For decades I have been attempting unsuccessfully to locate my 7th grade teacher, Mr. Ludwig. I was a student in his English class at PS 244 in Brooklyn in 1950, nearly 70 years ago.

More than any other teacher, in fact more than almost any other person, he changed the course of my life.

From time to time I googled him but to no avail.

But then on Friday there was his obituary in the New York Times. 

I knew more about Mr. Ludwig than was usual (it was rare in that era to know even a teacher's' first name) as he shared stories from his life, which I soaked up, seeking models of adulthood to emulate. 

Obituary from the New York Times-- 

Bert R. Ludwig was born July 25, 1920, passed away January 25, 2018. He was predeceased by his adored wife Phyllis of 60 years and his brother Bob. He is survived by his sister-in-law Claire and brother-in-law Paul and nieces Joan and Karen and their husbands Warren and Jay and their children and grandchildren.  

Bert graduated from Columbia University where he was accepted at age 14. He was extremely bright and talented. He sang and played the violin, accompanied by his brother on the piano. They played many gigs together in the Borscht Belt.  

Bert was a lieutenant in the United States Coast Guard during World War II. He was the Chief Communications Officer on a flotilla of LC1 Landing Craft during the invasion of Normandy, Omaha Beach and Utah Beach on June 6, 1944. He was also in the North African Campaign and the invasion of Sicily and Salerno.  

After the war Bert was honorably discharged and he worked for the FBI; but finally decided that education was his first love. He became a teacher, Assistant Principal and principal for the New York City school system. Bert and Phyllis enjoyed 40 wonderful summers in their home in Montauk, Long Island where they entertained their many friends and relatives. 

They loved living in Manhattan and were true New Yorkers enjoying all that Manhattan had to offer. They will be missed by those of us who knew and loved them. 

Part of Mr. Ludwig's appeal was that he was so culturally different from my father that it is fair to say he became a surrogate for me. 

He was the kind of man I was wanting to become--adventurous; worldly; heroic; well read; emotionally expressive; playful; though soft, a "real man" with a touch of class. And since most of my classmates and I who came under his spell had one or more immigrant parents ("old fashioned" was the way I thought about that), he was fully American and thus doubly attractive.

He not only taught English but also coached the school's basketball and softball teams. So I had academic lessons from him during the day and life lessons after school in the gym or on the baseball diamond.

He told us about his service in the Second World War and how he had been part of the D-Day landing. He shared dramatic photos of himself and his comrades storming Omaha Beach.

And he told us that before becoming a teacher he had been an FBI agent and recounted vivid stories about his training and some of the cases on which he worked. This was very different from what I heard at home from my father and uncles, which was either criticism or silence.

I entered his class as a virtual non-reader. I am embarrassed to admit I had more interest in Batman and Superman comics than Two Years Before the Mast. To motivate those of us lagging behind in our cultural education he created a chart on which our names were listed in alphabetical order--with me thus at the exposed bottom of the list--on which he would paste a star for every book we checked out of the library and read to completion.

While many of my classmates quickly filled the chart with enough stars to rival those in the Hayden Planetarium, I was the only one who remained starless.  Then one morning, when I arrived at his classroom and slid into my chair, on top of my desk was a new, non-library book of Sherlock Holmes stories. Puzzled, I looked toward Mr. Ludwig, who with nods and winks gestured that there was no mistake, the book was for me. Not just to read but to read and then keep.

I slipped it surreptitiously (a word he taught us) into my schoolbag and once back home put it on the shelf above the table on which I did my homework. It sat there untouched for more than two weeks until, feeling guilty and pressured, I finally picked it up and read the first story, "The Hound of the Baskervilles," and then, swept along by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's narrative magic, I read a second and after that a third. 

I stayed up all night reading the book, hiding excitedly under my blanket with the pages illuminated by my Boy Scout flashlight. 

I hid beneath the covers because to my father, reading books led to men becoming effeminate and after that . . . they would turn into men like his brother Ben, who lived a closeted life surrounded by stacks of magazines and books.

In school the next day, with Mr. Ludwig standing by the chart with his box of stars at the ready, when he asked if any of us had completed a new book, after the usual two girls waved their raised hands to report that they had finished Little Women, avoiding eye contact, in a whisper I revealed that I had finally read something other than a comic book.

Without fuss or comment, Mr. Ludwig affixed a star next to my name. And after that, through the rest of the school year I not only filled my space but my personal firmament of stars spilled over to occupy the unallocated space below my name.

I devoured anything by O'Henry or Robert Louis Stevenson or Richard Henry Dana, Mark Twain, and of course more, always more Sherlock Holmes. 

To this day,  I am an voracious reader with a personal library of read books numbering in the thousands, filling every available shelf I can fit on our crowded walls.

In 1950 I also was a non-writer. As a poor speller I was inhibited when I needed to complete written assignments. Noting this, early in the term, Mr. Ludwig asked me to remain in class after the bell.  Knowing how I admired him, he told me that Winston Churchill, when he was a young student, also could not write because of spelling problems. "And," he said, "look how well he now writes. What you need to do is just to write, to let the words flow and worry about the spelling later. That's what editors are for--to correct your grammer and speling."

He continued, "And don't forget that Einstein also had problems as a boy with both reading and writing. Not that you're a Churchill or an Einstein," he winked with a smile--he wanted to make sure I wouldn't become too full of myself, "But you can do better."

And I did: Later in life I wrote and published widely. I am the author of dozens of articles and stories and five books. All traceable to the affect Mr. Ludwig had on me at that delicate time.

Then there was what to do about my graceless, overgrown body. At the tender age of 12, I was already six-feet-five inches tall. I had fears I would grow until the only hope for me would be to join the bearded lady in the circus.

But as PS 244's basketball coach, Mr. Ludwig saw past my slumping posture and awkwardness, instead sensing the makings of a potential center for the school's basketball team. 

To help me become viable as the possible pivot for the Rugby Rockets, in those days a team's tallest player would position himself directly under the basket where he would hopefully block a few shots, do some rebounding, and score some easy layups, Mr. Ludwig spent long afternoon hours encouraging me (he believed in my potential more than I) and teaching me the moves I would need to excel in inter-school competition.

Somehow, after a few months in the gym I literally stood taller, had filled out a bit, and became one of the team's most reliable scorers. The Rockets then, with a team made up of players more talented than I, became perennial challengers for the Brooklyn borough championship. 

And finally, there was my singing. Or rather, my inability to carry a tune.

When Mr. Ludwig had the class prepare a musical "production" for PS 244's annual showcase, he had two pieces of advice, which to this day, metaphorically, have stood me in good stead--If you can't carry a tune, move your lips, lip-sync. In other words, if you are unable do something well, pretend you can. 

And, seek a role, if necessary--more metaphors--that lets you, if necessary, lay low. In this case behind a scrim lit-from-behind, as he had me do when one year's show was about tribal South Africa where I, again the overgrown me, stomped behind a suspended bed sheet so that only my attenuated shadow was projected to the audience while the rest of the class, in harmony, sang--

See him there,
The Zulu warrior.
See him there,
The Zulu chief, chief, chief, chief.

Mr Ludwig found a way to transform this frog into a prince of a chief!

For me, that is his legacy. Helping me aquire the skills and confidence to become anything my talents and hard work would permit.

For decades I have been searching for him to thank him with words that I, as an adult, finally acquired.

I failed to find him until now when I read he had died and that his funeral service last Sunday would be in New York City.

I went, hoping I would be welcome at what I suspected would be an intimate family affair. Though I was the only former student able to attend, I felt I was there representing the many others upon whom Mr. Ludwig had had such a profound effect.

I also realized I had been searching for him in all the wrong places. 

He was closer to me than I had imagined. I didn't need the Internet or Google to locate him. He had always been close at hand. Right here, within me, where has has been since 1950 and will be until I finally join him.

December 15, 2016--Am I Missing Something?

If I am, it wouldn't be the first time.

When newly-inaugurated president Obama and his Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton called for the re-normalization of relations with Russia, in the person of Vladimir Putin, progressives supported that and even chuckled when Clinton brought an actual reset button with her as a present to Putin on her first official visit to Moscow.

Thankfully, we felt, we no longer had a president who proclaimed that he looked in "the man's eye and found him to be very straightforward and trustworthy." The "man" of course was Putin.

We know how that worked out. First with Bush and now with Obama, who not only can't exchange a civil word with Putin or look him int the eye but, more dangerously, we have Russia allied with the murderous Syrian regime, perpetrating a holocaust on opponents to the Assad government, while we stand by impudently doing nothing.

And now we know officially that Putin's people hacked their way into the middle of our recent election in an attempt to bring Clinton down and tip the election to Donald Trump. And once again, we are sitting around fulminating but doing nothing. What was it that the Chinese said about "paper tiger"?

Whatever shred of tiger still resides within us is now expressing itself as moral outrage that Trump's nominee to serve as Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson, was too cozy with Russia and Putin during his tenure as CEO for Exxon Mobil.

Almost foaming at the mouth, John McCain, undoubtedly itching to get at the hated Donald Trump, has already declared that he will likely vote against Tillerson's nomination because his "friend" Putin is "a thug, a murderer, and a killer."

I wonder what McCain would have said about Stalin during the Second World War? Someone we disliked but depended upon to win against the Nazis. Historians have concluded that if it weren't for the Soviet involvement--defeating Hitler on the Second Front when he invaded Russia--we might very well have lost.

Stalin, this essential ally of ours, was more than a thug, murderer, or killer. He was a mass murderer the likes of which the world has thankfully rarely seen. He is reported to have slaughtered between 34 and 49 million of his own people. And yet, Roosevelt found ways to work with him.

And then later, President Nixon concluded it was expedient to reset relations with another mass murderer--Mao Zedong, who ordered the slaying of at least 45 million. This outreach to China was and is in our self-interest and therefore our leaders somehow found ways to overlook the flood of bloodshed and move on.

And now with Russia again challenging us, McCain and Paul and Rubio and a host of Democrats in the Senate are threatening to block Tillerson's confirmation.

If we could calm down about Tillerson in 2013 receiving the Order of Friendship medal from Putin, wouldn't we see his "friendly" relationship with Putin to be an asset rather than a killer virus to his confirmation? Or do we prefer the prospect of Secretary of State John Bolton? Or, help us, Rudy?

What would McCain and others have us do with regard to Putin and a resurgent Russia--bomb, bomb, bomb . . . bomb Moscow?

I'm just getting over the results of November's election and now I have to worry about World War III?

This is my 3,000th blog posting. The first was way back in August 2005. Thanks for taking the time to look in on these.

October 13, 2016--Shaken, Not Stirred

A savvy friend and I have been engaged in an email back-and-forth about the possible need to "shake up the system" as a precursor to improving the government and Americans' quality of life.

I have been arguing that the desire to shake things up is what is motivating many to support Trump. She agrees that this may be true but the list of things that they want to shake up is regressive, misogynist, xenophobic, and often racist. She claims that the things that appeal to them include--

Law and order
Deportation
Overturning Roe v Wade
Stoping Immigration
Stoping the War On Coal
Overturning Obamacare
Stoping terrorism
Bringing back manufacturing

I don't disagree with her list but I have also been attempting to make the case that though we abhor Trump's and his followers' agenda, it exists; like-it-or-not, it appeals to tens of millions; and for people who are fed up with the way things are working, the "system," their frustration and anger need to be understood and, here's where we do disagree, they may be ahead of us in reacting to the underlying causes of the deep discontent seen to be pervasive, including, among progressives. They also may be quicker than we to call for fundamental change, not just a spate of new government initiatives.

Liberals have their own list and thus among us there are frustrations but of a different sort, with different policies and outcomes. My friend made a list of these as well--

Fixing our crumbling infrastructure
Support equal pay
Fixing the broken education system
Fixing Obamacare
Make college affordable
Stoping terrorism
Creating programs to train/retain workers

We call for a lot of "fixing," Trump's people for a lot of "stoping" and "overturning."

One of her emails concludes--

The people I know want to wait until there are more responsible people (on both sides) who have the vision to make real change and are willing to compromise and respond to the realities of the 21st century. [My italics]

This is as good a summary of the liberal perspective as I've seen. Reasonable, mature, realpolitik, optimistic about human perfectibility, visionary, with a significant role for government to ameliorate differences, inequality, and selfishness.

The subject line on this email was the witty--Shaken, Not Stirred.

I responded--

From many, many  conversations over years with folks across the full spectrum of political views (from very progressive to far right) there appears to be at least one thing they share in common--to accomplish any of the goals you list is the need to shake things up. 

That has to happen before any of the good things you list have any realistic chance of happening. That list has been around for many years during Democratic as well as Republican administrations and still the roads collapse and the schools fail. 

What shaking things up specifically and realistically means is not clearly or persuasively articulated by anyone (very much including Bernie). 

For me, that's the heart of the problem--how to bring about the conditions essential to any large scale systemic alteration of the opportunity structure, economic policy, military as well as education reform, to cite just a couple of daunting but essential examples. 

And to me here's the irony--many on the right are most vociferous in regard to calling for shaking up but in truth have have only a retro-agenda--to stop doing some things and repeal others. Doing nothing, as the Tea Party folks understand, gets that nihilistic agenda accomplished.  

Since those on the left do have a proactive agenda one would think we would have the greater stake in wanting to bring about the conditions that precede real change. But what we have been calling for is largely program and project driven (thus Hillary has "plans"). There is no credible "radical" left left. And we desperately need that to shake things up in a positive way and help rescue us from incrementalism. 

We ended our exchange before I could mention one more thing about the preconditions needed to bring about more than emulative change--crisis.

There are many global examples but I would have mentioned just a few from our own history--

The First World War lured us from our national isolation and forced us to become players in the larger world.

The Great Depression led to the transformative social legislation that still protects our most vulnerable citizens.

The GI Bill that derived from World War II led to the beginning of what some at the time referred to as the American Century.

John Kennedy's assassination fueled the War on Poverty and Civil Rights legislation that help bring about social justice and economic security for the most forgotten and maltreated Americans.

Is there anything equivalent looming? Is a crisis essential to any hope for far-reaching fundamental change?

There's more to be said. I hope my friend will help me find more to say which I will pass along.

July 10, 2014--Slovakia

One of the delightful young women at the checkout counter at Reilly's market in New Harbor told us that at the end of the season she will be going home.

"Where's home?" Rona asked, sounding rueful.

"Slovenia," she said.

"Where?" Rona asked not sure she heard correctly or if, for the moment, she wasn't able to locate Slovenia on a map in her mind. "Oh, you mean, part of the former Czechoslovakia. It was peacefully divided in the 1990s into two countries--your Slovakia and . . ."

"The Czech Republic." She smiled broadly, pleased to know that someone way up here was aware of that history.

Later, while driving to town, Rona asked why what happened in Czechoslovakia, a country that was reconfigured at least twice after both the First and Second World Wars, couldn't be a model for other parts of the world. Especially the Middle East.

"We keep talking about how with the exception of Egypt and Iran all the other countries there were created out of nothing more than Western economic need and greed and political maneuvering."

"We've even said this too is true for Israel, which was carved out of ancient Palestine and now includes parts of post-colonial Jordan, Syria, and Lebanon."

"And whenever anyone raises the subject of allowing the remapping of this region people object saying there are no good examples of this occurring with peaceful results."

"But," I said, "the Czechoslovakian division between Czechs and Slovaks occurred with no fighting and, unless I am missing something, there are no current border disputes."

"And then," Rona added, "there's what happened to the former Yugoslavia, another country that post-war was a forced amalgam of many peoples and religions."

"Though that remapping didn't happen peacefully after Tito died. He was the strong man who forced Albanians to live under the same flag as Serbs, Croatians, Bosnians, Montenegrins, and warring Christians and Muslims. There was ethnic and religious warfare with atrocities committed on all sides."

"Including 'ethnic cleansing.' Remember that wonderful euphemism?"

"I sure do. But after the Clinton administration and NATO finally and reluctantly got involved, including militarily, there was a version of peace--which has persisted more-or-less for at least 20 years. And now there are seven or eight countries that devolved from Yugoslavia. If this were final Jeopardy, how many could you list?"

I began to hum the familiar Jeopardy music as Rona raced to tick off, "Croatia, Slovenia, Serbia, Bosnia," and then paused, searching for the others. I kept up my annoying humming. "What about Macedonia? Yes, that's another one and . . ."

"Sorry, time's up."

"OK smart-ass, what are the rest?" And she then began to hum quite loudly.

I stammered and tried to distract Rona but she persisted. "Time's up!" she roared, clapping her hands triumphantly.

When we got home we Googled "the former Yugoslavia" and found that we had forgotten--or had never known--that there were at least two other new countries formed after Yugoslavia collapsed--Herzegovina and Montenegro.

"So," Rona said, "when the nay-sayers claim the Middle East can't be remapped and that there are no current examples of that working, we have at least two to cite."

"I doubt if tomorrow morning we'll get too many folks at the diner interested in talking about Montenegro or Slovakia. If we try to do that, no one will sit with us."

"Good point," Rona agreed, "Let's forget the whole thing."

Later that afternoon, I heard her humming the Jeopardy music from the shower.

December 9, 2013--The Rollout

I've been having a back and forth with a friend about the rollout of Obamacare.

She is being extra-critical, feeling that the botched launch of the Website is emblematic of Obama's botched presidency. "He's great at articulating big ideas but when it comes to actually getting the work done, he either has no interest, is inept, or a combination of both."

I haven't been disagreeing with her--I too am quite disappointed with the president about whom I initially had great hopes. But I've been saying that Obamacare is not about the website but about Obamacare itself.

If in a year or two 30 to 40 million people who do not now have health insurance are by then covered and are satisfied, healthier, and the cost of care overall continues to decline, who will even remember the website fiasco?

"But, I fear," she says, "that conservatives will continue to claim that the federal government is incapable of carrying out big projects. They will say it's only private industry that is capable of doing large-scale things."

"If they say that," I've been asserting, "they will be ignoring much of the history of the last 150 years when the federal government took the lead in the construction of the transcontinental railroad, electrified all of America (especially remote, rural America), built the interstate highway system, constructed huge dams, mobilized to win the Second World War, and launched Social Security and Medicare. All of these massive undertakings were criticized in their day by some of the same kind of small-government  conservatives we're seeing today--saying they were unconstitutional, socialistic, would never work, and were going to bankrupt us to boot. Sound familiar?"

"Yes," my friend has been acknowledging, "Though all of this got done, that was then and what we are seeing is now. I feel we have lost our way since the Manhattan Project and the TVA. Maybe even more recently after successes with Medicare and Medicaid. There may very well be truth to the claim that now it is only private enterprise that can get the job done."

"You mean like the folks who brought us the Edsel, New Coke, and the collapse of the Big Three auto companies? These failures were all the result of private industry hubris."

At best, in spite of my efforts to marshall history to provide some context for what we see today, my friend remains skeptical, even pessimistic. "We're things at these earlier times as bitterly partisan, with both side only interested in winning?"

"That to. The things they said about Lincoln, Wilson, Teddy Roosevelt and FDR were pretty ugly. The attacks weren't magnified as much as they are today since they didn't have 24/7 so-called news networks, but still things back then could be vicious. And yet they found ways to accomplish some big things."

"You could be right. Some times having a historical perspective helps."

"We could talk about Jefferson and Jackson and . . ."

"For the moment," my friend at last laughed, "let's stick with the Roosevelts. There's only so much history I can deal with in the morning."