My wonder years

Here are some things that occasionally cross my mind and make me wonder:

• If politicians – actual lawmakers – can ignore lawful subpoenas without consequence, then can I? And if not, why not? Money? Power?

• Is ignoring a subpoena also conscience of guilt?

• If you don't believe in science, was that a waste of your elementary school education? Or is ignoring science simply willful ignorance? Were you even listening? Or did you once believe in science but then got derailed by politicians who ignore subpoenas? Or by social media spreading misinformation?

• I wonder what the world would be like if we protested against polio vaccinations? Or smallpox vaccinations?

• Green Bay quarterback Aaron Rodgers, tennis star Novak Djokovic and Brooklyn NBA star Kyrie Irving are all prominent anti-vaxxers. The No. 1 seeded Packers lost to No. 6 San Francisco last night; Djokovic has been denied entry in the current Australian Open and Irving can only play in road games. Sure, it's unrelated. But still, Karma, I wonder?

• When San Francisco quarterback Colin Kaepernick took a knee during the national anthem in 2016, he set off a firestorm of pushback with many NFL fans vowing never to follow pro football again. That didn't last long. Ratings for the recent NFL regular season are soaring again (up 10 percent from last year). 

It should be further noted that Kaepernick was not protesting the American flag but rather the violent and perhaps unconstitutional actions of numerous police agencies against black people. I wonder if it's been forgotten that Kaepernick got the idea of taking a knee from Green Beret special forces soldier Nate Boyer, a white man who once played for the Seattle Seahawks?

• Did the United States really make child separation from families seeking asylum at the Mexican border four years ago actual federal policy? Or am I confusing that with 1930s geopolitics? Child separation. Really. In the United States.

• Do walls designed to limit illegal immigration actually work? Hmm. Hadrian's Wall, the Berlin Wall, the Great Wall have all been breached or bypassed at one time or another. Historically, the only thing certain about walls is that people die at them.

• After the most secure presidential elections in United States history, why are GOP controlled states working so hard to suppress voting rights? Florida is even proposing "election police", which by definition sounds a whole lot like third-world fascism. (see 1930s geopolitics).

• Are we getting more snow this coming weekend? I've seen several early forecasts of a potential superstorm coming our way. Don't get me started on climate change...

My fault

I think the snow you see outside your window this morning – our first really decent snowfall in two years, probably – could be my fault.

It's on me...

 The other day, when I was packing up our Christmas stuff, I replaced our New Year's garden flag with a flag that has a giant snowflake on it.

It's supposed to be our winter garden flag, since our garden flags are intended to be seasonal. But Kim believes that I actually brought on this snowfall by hanging this particular flag. Everything is an omen, you see. Don't ever talk about how good the car is behaving; don't ever mention that we haven't caught the flu – or Covid – in two years; don't say how smart we were to cut down our leaning red oak tree when five other trees are still standing within striking distance of our house.

Kim, a native-born Lexingtonian, is not a fan of winter. I can't say that I blame her. I'm a native-born Pennsylvanian, and while I grew up loving to play in the snow, that feeling mostly disappeared when I got older and had to drive in the stuff.

I remember one winter when I was covering sports for The Quakertown Free Press. One of our local high school basketball teams qualified for the state playoffs, which happened to be played in the Palestra at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. The Palestra was only an hour away, but it started snowing on the way down to Philly, it snowed during the entire game that I was covering, and it snowed on the drive back home. At night. I've never been a big fan of winter after that decidedly uncomfortable experience.

Anyway, I can't say for sure that I actually brought on this snowfall. It's been in the forecast for days, but Kim was listening to the voice in her other ear that was telling her it was all a joke and that we really weren't going to get snow. I mean, the forecasters had pretty much gotten it wrong the past two years. I, for one, was hoping she was right.

But, you know, there was that snowflake garden flag taunting us...

Still, we made our preparations. We did our grocery shopping yesterday instead of today, and our supplies appear be in good shape. We can hunker down, stream a movie or two, watch the NFL playoffs, finish off the pizza we brought home yesterday from Thomasville.

Just as long as the power holds out. Ice and sleet are in the forecast for later today. Yikes.

I wonder if it's too late to hang the hummingbird-and-honeysuckle garden flag?

Madison

 Here's the strange thing:

I never met Madison Taylor in person.

But when I read my friend Steve Huffman's Facebook post early Friday morning noting that his longtime friend, Madison, had died the previous afternoon, I felt the sudden shock and sadness as if I'd known Madison for decades.

In truth, I'd known him for only a couple of years. And that was only through his Facebook posts.

Madison Taylor

 I knew that Madison, a former sportswriter and news editor for The Burlington Times-News, had been ill, but it was never clear to me that he was deathly ill. He was only 62 when he died at Duke University Hospital, diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis and emphysema. His lungs could no longer fill with the magical and magisterial breath that sustains us all.

I'm not quite sure why Madison's death affected me so. We became Facebook friends after he commented on several of my blogs (I sometimes wonder if he had a red cyber pencil at the ready), and usually, his posts to me were supportive and complimentary. There's no greater satisfaction for a journalist than earning the respect of his peers. So there's that.

But I think there's something else going on here.

The foundation of our brief friendship isn't strong enough for me to offer a proper obituary, much less an eulogy. Others are doing that copiously in their posts the past few days, and it's a way for me to learn more about Madison and the life he lived. Curiously, some – like me – never met him in person. And, yet – like me – they are moved. That has to tell you something about the man.

I think for me, however, Madison's death marks – what, an awareness? An alert? A reminder? A bell in the fog? Madison wasn't even old enough to collect full Social Security. Conversely, I am about ready to plow a little deeper into my 70s. So, yes, I am reminded of the transitory nature of our journey, of how we make that journey and with whom we make that journey.

Ours is more of a tale of paths crossed.

And for that, I am grateful.

-30-

Ready to try again

We bought some champagne a week or so ago as we prepared to help bring in the new year Friday night, but then it turned out we never had a New Year's party to go to.

Omicron, you know.

So the champagne is still unopened in the refrigerator, waiting for something to celebrate. And the way I see it, the longer we wait for something to celebrate, the lower the bar for an actual celebration falls. Originally, the champagne was meant to welcome in 2022 – a major event, I guess – but once that didn't happen, we might actually pop the cork for something else. Anything else.

Maybe I'll open the bottle because we finally got our Christmas decorations down. Or maybe because I set a new personal record for my calorie burn that day in the gym. Or maybe because of that dime I found in the Food Lion parking lot. (Finding somebody's lost change is still pretty exciting to me. I think it goes back to my days as the community swimming pool's maintenance boy. I'm the guy who had to pick up the garbage at the end of the day, and occasionally I'd find some loose money among the hot dog and candy wrappers in the grass. Back in 1965, even a quarter was a significant bonus to my meager salary. So getting excited about finding coins on the ground is a life-long conditioned response for me.)

Anyway, I try to approach each new year with a sense of optimism, but it's getting harder and harder to do so. I mean, the pandemic is still here, entering its third year. It seems that no matter how many booster shots we get, Covid is something we're going to have to live with, along with social distancing and masking.

In a 50-50 country, politics seems to have us at an impasse.

I don't know what the answer is. I suppose something could happen that brings us back to our senses, that binds instead of breaks us. 

If that happens this year, maybe I'll finally pop the cork.