Blue tsunami

When I woke up this morning, I wasn't quite sure what to expect.

I mean, when I went to bed last night, several Democrats were doing pretty good in their midterm races and it looked as though they were going to take the House of Representatives. Great, I thought to myself. The Dems will have control of the congressional purse strings. Maybe now we can cut back on ICE, which is conducting a murderous and illegal war on American citizens. Maybe now we can cut back on arrogant defense secretary Pete Hegseth, who is conducting an illegal war on Iran.

I thought the Democrats had a chance to do well in the Senate. Maybe even take control.

What I didn't expect were the Democrats dominating in the Senate. When I woke up this morning and checked my computer, the Dems had won 55 seats with the possibility of adding another. They needed 51 to take control. It was a shocker.

The Dems needed 218 seats to win the House and had, in fact, won at least 228 seats by this morning with possibly more on the horizon. 

Holy smokes. Total control of Congress. While many of us were expecting – hoping for – a blue wave, we got a blue tsunami instead. We surely didn't see that coming.

But it spoke volumes. 

The dominance was a total repudiation of the Trump administration by frustrated American citizens who finally got a chance to voice their feelings about the chaos that seems to follow the convicted felon president. 

Clearly, Americans were pissed about the war with Iran, which was unilaterally unleashed by Trump without congressional approval. The war is the primary driver for the rise of gas prices since the first bombs were dropped.

Unilaterally imposed tariffs by Trump have generated an affordability crisis with increases in food, housing and automobiles, among other staples.

Many Americans are appalled by the administration's handling of immigration, especially with deportations of many who were either American-born citizens or legal workers. The murder of protestors Alex Pretti and Renée Good in January by ill-trained Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents sparked condemnation of the administration.

Consequently, Hispanics and Blacks voted in large numbers, perhaps indicating that DEI is real – and a good thing – after all. 

Most Americans could hardly wait for the midterms to get here. It was our chance to voice our displeasure with the administration. It turned out to be a referendum not only on Trump, but on the feckless, MAGA-sized Republican Party as it tried to follow the blueprints of its disgraceful Project 2025.

Message sent. Tired of that decidedly unAmerican crap.

When the Democrats take control in January, investigations will take place. Expect the Epstein Files to finally reach your eyes in full and without redactions (as mandated by law). Expect accountability.

We the People have spoken. Hear us roar. 

 The way it was meant to be.

 

Blue wave

There's only 48 hours or so remaining before Election Day, and even though Kim and I voted early about a week ago, I can't wait.

I'm patiently waiting for the Blue Wave to appear. There has to be a way to put the brakes on the national disaster that has defined the Trump Administration, and voting might be it.

Which means Democrats and Independents have to turn out and make this an election that's too big to rig.

OK, OK. This is the midterms, not a presidential election. I know that. We're still stuck with the Antichrist for two more years. But if the midterms somehow put Democrats in control of the House of Representatives, it could help slow down convicted felon president Donald Trump from causing further damage to our democracy. And, Heaven permitting, if Democrats can also control the Senate, there will exist the power of accountability.

Accountability. That's what's been missing from the current crop of Republicans who control Congress and thereby allow Trump to govern so erratically. And unlawfully.

• We've seen staffing reductions across several several federal science agencies, including 20 percent reduction at NIH and 33 percent at NSF.

• There have been reductions in public health, including an increase in measles and a five-state cyclospora outbreak. There have also been cutbacks in ACA protections and in drug pricing provisions.

• The administration has hit civil rights hard, moving to ban federal and military DEI programs, restrict gender-affirming care and alter rules governing labor protections.

• And then there's the really offensive stuff, like the deportation of brown-skinned people under the guise of immigration control, even though many of those deported are legal American citizens. And how's that six-day war in Iran going? How about rising inflation and interest rates? Can you afford to buy a house? Or groceries? Did you vote for that?

• Those unauthorized vanity projects like the Trump ballroom or the triumphal arch of the reflecting pool, as well as decorating the White House in gold trim, are, in my view, decidedly unAmerican. Why are we paying for them? Who said he could do those things?

The list is endless.

I know the recent polling shows many Democrats in favorable positions heading down the stretch as an apparent Blue Wave is on the verge of cresting. I hope so. We need to turn a corner somewhere. Surely we are better than this.

But nothing is certain. A Blue Wave could all dissolve on Election Day, especially if the polling is wrong. The early voting numbers are encouraging, however, especially since Democrats historically tend to vote early.

It's in our hands. We the People...

 

 

Hit bottom yet?

Dr. Amy Acton, the Democratic candidate who is running for the governorship of Ohio against Republican Vivek Ramaswamy, is 60 years old.

Acton was removed from her birth mother, Donna Arthur, by court order because of an abusive environment when she was 12 years old. That was 48 years ago. Nearly five decades. Arthur hasn't spoken to Acton since then.

Now, in a particularly revolting political moment, Ramaswamy has repeatedly circulated an online campaign ad featuring Arthur criticizing her daughter as both "a liar" and suffering from mental health issues. Arthur's ad also questions Acton's claim that her daughter lived in a tent as a child as a result of homelessness.

What the ad doesn't address is the fact that Arthur's husband at the time, Cledith Arthur, was indicted by a grand jury and charged with the rape and abuse of Acton and her brother, Phil Stearns, in 1978. I repeat – when she was 12. That's pedophilia as well as sexual assault. Sound familiar these days?

The stepfather skipped the state of Ohio, ran off to Pennsylvania with his wife, and never appeared in court. Donna Arthur, apparently chose living with her abusive child-raping husband than to support her own blood daughter.

Court records and news reports from 1978 support Acton's account of her childhood experience. FactCheck.org also found records that connect Cledith to the campground where Acton said she lived in a tent. So there's that.

In light of this, a desperate Ramaswamy, who trails Acton in recent polling, refuses to pull the ad and has doubled down on his assertion that Acton is a lying liar.

Ramaswamy even enlisted the support of convicted felon president Donald Trump – now there's a character witness for you – who told Ramaswamy to continue to run the ad because it was a "very powerful" ad and that it hit political paydirt.

This is coming from the guy who is mentioned thousands of times in the Epstein files. You remember the Epstein files, right? The files that were ordered to be released – totally unredacted – by a bipartisan act of Congress. It was signed into law by Trump himself.

And yet, here we are, sifting through the heavily redacted files that have been released while still waiting for more than a million remaining files – maybe even more – that haven't been released. What's the hold up? Or maybe we need to ask: What's the cover up?

Ramaswamy's attack ad on Acton is pretty vile stuff and it brings me to wonder where the hell this country's moral compass is located. In one of Trump's recent midterm campaign rallies, he backed Ramaswamy's view. The crowd behind him cheers idiotically. Wait, what? Cheering a rapist? An abuser of children?

Ramaswamy has Trump's support. He also has the support of vice president J.D. Vance. So the top two leaders of the Republican Party are backing the story of a woman who has turned her souless heart from the child who was raped and abused by her justice-skipping husband. And GOP followers are cheering this?

Where is that moral compass again? 

Oh, that's right. It's still falling. It still hasn't hit bottom. 

 

Early voted

It seems as though Kim and I had been waiting impatiently for the opportunity to vote early in this year's midterm elections.

More precisely, waiting forever. The waiting felt interminable, in the same way living in the current Trump administration feels interminable.

So Friday, after Kim got off from work, we made a beeline to the Davidson County Board of Elections to exercise our constitutionally guaranteed right to vote. Somewhat surprisingly, there was not the usual crowd of poll watchers, down-ballot candidates or party partisans in the parking lot to wade through.

But there was at least one. "Would you like a brochure to review the Republican candidates?" she asked. "No!" exclaimed the usually soft-spoken Kim in her loud, stop-annoying-me voice as we quick-stepped our way to the polls. After a moment or two passed, Kim turned to me. "You know what I should have said? I should have told her 'Hell, no!'" She snickered.

Kim's gentle Southern accent, which has captivated me for decades, made it sound more like "Hail, no!" I snickered, too.

When we got inside the door we were greeted by poll workers who reminded us that we needed to have our photo ID available. Kim already had her driver's license in hand. I pulled my wallet out of my pocket, flipped the flap that covers the license window in my wallet and ... my license wasn't there.

Wha...??? Where's my license? It's always there. What happened to it?

Panic set in. How can I vote? I was more concerned about not being able to vote than I was about going through the potential bureaucracy of replacing my license.

Kim was already in line. I sat off to the side, pulling every card out from every conceivable pocket in my wallet. Sweat was forming. My fingers were shaking. Where the hail is my license? It's got my Real ID on it. Without Real ID, I'm nobody. Apparently.

Kim was now checking in to vote. I gave my wallet one last search. And behold. There, behind the plastic window that's usually reserved for my license, there is another slip-in pocket that serves as a card holder, but not for display. Somehow, that's where my license was. I got in line.

And I voted. I voted against illegal wars. I voted against unilaterally raising tariffs. I voted against rogue law enforcement roaming our streets and murdering our citizens. I voted against rising inflation. I voted against rising prices. I voted against the chaos that has swallowed this nation. I voted against a convicted felon president having free reign to employ his twisted vision of American government with the support of a Republican controlled Congress. I voted against presidential corruption. I voted against tax breaks for the very rich.

I don't know how loud my voice is, but I felt good about voting. I always do. I never feel more American than at this moment.

On the way home, we tried to figure out how my driver's license got to where it ended up. Kim remembered that there was a routine license check on a side road in town about a month ago. I had to take my license out of my wallet, and when I put it back, I unknowingly slipped it back in the pocket behind the display window. Nobody could see it.

Oh, well. It was worth the panic. It all worked out.

I voted. Now it's your turn. 

 

 

The jab ... and the jab

Back in late September, Kim and I were wondering when the best time would be to go get our flu shots this year. We knew the time was approaching.

We haven't missed our annual shot in more than 40 years and we weren't about to miss it this year, either.

Then, a week or so ago, a news item popped up indicating that this year's flu strain was expected to be particularly virulent, and the best time to go for the vaccine would be ... right now, if not sooner. So Kim went ahead and lined up appointments for both of us at Lexington Family Physicians for this past Thursday.

Oh, and by the way, let's get the Covid shot, too.

So we did. Flu shot in the right arm, Covid jab in the left.

 While I was getting my injections Thursday, the first thing I thought of was all the antivaxxers who are so insistent on not protecting themselves or (more thoughtlessly) the herd from catching the flu or Covid.

Every once in a while, an antivaxxer will post some nonsense about how well the antiparasitic Ivermectin works and that the Covid-19 vaccine, by contrast, has caused the death of millions.

A simple Internet search quickly debunks many of those claims:

• Since the Covid-19 vaccine rollout began in 2020, more than 13.5 billion vaccine doses have been administered worldwide, according to the World Health Organization (WHO). That covers 70.5 percent of the world's population (8.5 billion) who have received at least one dose. If you noticed that more doses have been administered than there are people, remember the initial vaccinations were a multiple step process.

• Perhaps the more pertinent question would be how many lives have been saved by the Covid-19 vaccine? According to The Lancet Infectious Diseases hosted by the National Institute of Health (NIH), Covid-19 vaccines saved an estimated 14.4 million to 19.8 million lives from December 2020 to December 2021 – or a 63 percent reduction in total potential deaths.

In the United States, the Commonwealth Fund writes that independent modeling indicates over three million lives have been saved and tens of millions more have avoided hospitalization.

Just keep in mind that Covid-19 is a moving target and that the vaccination is aiming at a constantly changing virus, and thus requires unending vigilance and research. Consequently, the Covid-19 vaccine formula is updated every year to match the virus variants, much in the same way the flu vaccine is prepared.

• One of the antivaxxer assertions that tickled me claims that thousands of virologists supposedly have questioned the effectiveness of the Covid-19 vaccine, but according to WHO, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and the European Medicines Agency (EMA), just the opposite is true: Covid-19 vaccines are safe, effective and have saved millions of lives. Those suggesting otherwise are either deliberately lying or otherwise reporting false or conspiracy-based misinformation to support a political agenda. Laugh at them.

I've always been worried about influenza. Years ago, when I first learned of the great Spanish influenza outbreak in 1918, I was shocked to learn that an estimated 50 million to 100 million people died in that pandemic worldwide.

The virus claimed 675,000 American lives, more than the combined American combat casualties of World War I, World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War.

Up until I reached my late 30s, I thought the flu was pretty much just a bad head cold. Silly me. But for nearly as long as Kim and I have been married, we've gotten our flu shots. And as far as I can remember, we've never gotten the flu.

I've never quite understood why some people avoid getting flu and Covid shots, especially when the evidence is clear that the vaccinations actually protect the community. I mean, it's my understanding that even if you don't get the shot and you don't display any flu symptoms, you can still carry and transmit the virus with a simple sneeze or touch. Why would you do that? It seems to me the object here isn't only to keep yourself safe, but also your friends, family, neighbors and colleagues as well.

I have this picture in my head of a young child crying real tears as she is being administered the flu shot. For some reason, I think this is a lasting image that many people carry into adulthood. I bet deep down folks opposed to vaccines just don't want to feel the needle's sting again. It's the only thing that even remotely make sense to me.

These shots didn't hurt. 

C'mon. Get your shots. 

 

 

 

 

 

Press here

When convicted felon president Donald Trump denied White House access nearly a week ago to journalists from CNN, MS NOW and Politico, claiming that those news organizations only reported negative news from the White House, I wasn't particularly surprised.

Nor was I surprised when he seemingly defied a judge – District Judge Timothy Kelly, a Trump-appointed judge – ruled that the affected organizations had to have their access reinstated for at least 14 days as their legal challenge continued to turn.

Access was eventually restored Thursday afternoon by the temporary restraining order.

You knew it would be. Trump's endless quarrel with the media – particularly those outlets he considers to be left leaning and progenitors of a made-up term he labels "fake news", as an assault on the First Amendment. You know, the amendment that guarantees freedom of the press. It's why it's the very first amendment to the Constitution. It's first for a reason.

It's first because it's designed to provide accountability as a check to a president's questionable actions – like starting illegal wars, or illegally raising tariffs, or illegally denying due process. Stuff like that.

But what do you expect from a felon president who was granted almost total immunity for his actions by an obviously corrupt Supreme Court? What do you expect from a Republican-controlled Congress that has basically surrendered its first-branch-of-government (Article I) power and authority to the convicted felon president with hardly a whimper?

How does a convicted felon remain as president in a democracy?

I think the thing that surprises me the most is the support that Trump is receiving not only from the party-line Court, but from a segment of the electorate that tends to agree with his assessment of the media – that it creates fake news.

There's no such thing as fake news, just like there's no such thing as a deep state. Those are simply labels created by a paranoid government that feels as if its power is being threatened. Those that believe the government in power are called the base.

So who do you believe when you get your news? The main stream media? Podcasters? Bloggers? The government? Those who align with your own perceptions?

It's a tough call.

I spent my career in newspaper journalism and in my experience the professionals with whom I worked went out of their way to provide the truth. The thing is, what is the truth? Who perceives what truth is? Who defines what truth is? How is truth influenced by life experiences? Is truth even obvious? Is truth founded on evidence?

For me, truth is molded by my upbringing, by my values, by my logic, by my sense of what feels right and what feels wrong. That's what I rely on to determine what is true and what is conspiracy theory.

It's why I believe in vaccines. It's why I believe in the law. It's why I believe in the Constitution. It's why I believe what I see by my very eyes and ears.

It's why I don't believe in a convicted felon. 

 

 

Another class reunion

The last time I heard somebody ask me to sign their high school yearbook was 57 years ago, but then, that's the kind of life I've lived. You know, the kind filled with oddball change-ups and unpredictable curves that you never really see coming. The kind that just kiss the corner of the plate and the ump cries out "Steee-rike!"

Linda Radle, myself, and Hannah Pennewell

 So here was Linda Radle. We weren't particularly close back in our high school days – basically just anonymous students passing each other in the hallways – but I think she somehow recognized me by my name tag. We struck up a friendly conversation, with me pointing out that I actually didn't graduate with her class because we moved away in my senior year.

Then, out of nowhere, it seemed, she whipped out her class of 1969 yearbook. "Will you sign this, please?"

I was taken aback. Then humbled.

"Just sign it in the space here on the page where your picture would have been," she suggested.

I don't know if it's because I've reached a certain age, or what, but it's moments like this that tend to make me misty eyed. All my hearts fall off my sleeve like autumn leaves.

So I wrote, as best as I can remember, "Linda, it only took me 57 years, but I finally got to sign your yearbook." I think I added another clever sentence or two, then signed it, "In renewed friendship, Bruce Wehrle." She seemed pleased.

Bruce Buratti and myself

 This reunion was going to be different than any I'd been to previously. This time, the organizers combined the Southern Lehigh classes of 1966, 1967, 1968 and 1969 because, you know, we're dying off now. It's not that easy to coax people to come to that little school that lies in the shadow of Allentown,  PA, especially as we get older and driving becomes a little more problematical. But I thought it was a brilliant move, since most of us also had friends in classes other than our own and whom we hadn't seen for years. Plus, the event was being held over two days, with a casual picnic lunch on Friday and a more formal catered luncheon at a local college on Saturday.

This gave me a chance to meet up with Bruce Buratti. He and I were teammates on the Solehi cross country team. He was a year ahead of me in school.

He recognized me immediately and we started reminiscing from the get-go. Here's an interesting tidbit: we're two guys named Bruce who ran for the same cross country team in high school, and then went on to spend their entire professional careers as sports writers. To top it off, both of us were inducted into our respective county sports halls of fame. What are the odds?

I spent so much of my Friday talking with Bruce that I actually missed having my group picture with the present members of the class of 1969. No matter. We could try again Saturday. Except that when the call came Saturday for another class picture, I was off somewhere talking with Bruce. Again.

Steee-rike!  

Morag, myself and Kim

Reunions can be hardest on spouses because they don't know anybody there and I kind of wondered how Kim would navigate her way through this – especially for two days, 500 miles from home. It's not as if she could hop in the car and drive off (Well, she could have, I guess. She has her own keys to the car. But that would have been a totally different story).

Anyway, in one of those moments when Kim was alone in a room full of strangers, a woman named Christie Davies (Class of '68) approached her and asked about her. Who was she? What class was she in? Kim explained that she was married to me, but Christie had no clue who I was. We never crossed paths in school.

A bit later, Kim told me about this nice woman who made her feel comfortable and she pointed her out to me. I went up to Christie, showed her my name tag, and thanked her for talking to my wife. Christie was friendly, outgoing and funny. We talked for a few more minutes. And just like that, I had made a new friend from out of the reunion ether.

And then there's Morag. You might remember that I've written about Morag Christie-Churm before. She and I met as teenagers in the summer of 1967 when we both had summer jobs at the community swimming pool and, well, the friendship that started then has now spanned seven decades. It's one of those tasty change-ups that you never expect. Whenever Kim and I head north, Morag (Class of '68) graciously offers us a place to stay for a couple of days, without fail.

Damn. There goes another heart off my sleeve.

Morag was more or less the ramrod behind this reunion, serving as coordinator, accountant, proofreader, ass kicker and whatever else it took to put something like a two-day reunion together. Plans are already in the works for another reunion in three years, which would make it my 60th. 

There were others I remembered: Hannah Pennewell, who represented the Class of '69 on the reunion committee; Tom Schaeffer, the class president; Duane Wetzel; Ed Alosi; Linda Yost; Arthur Urffer, and Glen High, to name a few. 

I have to say, for a bunch of septuagenarians, the folks in the four classes looked pretty good. Healthy. Sharp. Glad to be in each other's shared company. Humbled to be shaped, in part, by the high school that brought us together.

For sure. See you in three years. 

Modeling my new T-shirt