The Destructiveness of Palin's Candidacy

Since the day after Ms. Palin's candidacy was announced, I've been in a state of shock. It's not the fact that a woman was chosen as the Republican vice presidential candidate. No, it's not that. Certainly there's no reason for a woman to be running, for one to be taken seriously as a potential president, for one to engage this country and forever change the "flavor" of politics. It's not the fact that Palin is female. It's not even the fact that she's a woman whose beliefs don't even come close to matching mine.

No, it's the way that other women in this country have almost blindly jumped on her bandwagon. Immediately after the announcement of McCain's choice, women started going nuts. And I don't mean that in a funny way; I swear--it seems that some women have completely lost it. I'm wondering if they took one look at Palin and suddenly lost the capacity to reason.

Sure seems that way.

Here's an example of what I mean: I was listening to several women discussing Ms. Palin's candidacy, and all they focused on was how cool it is that she's female and that she's pretty, to boot. Apparently, her main qualifications for office are that she doesn't have a y-chromosome and that she looks good in those glasses, with her hair put up in that casually-disarrayed kind of style. The conversation on which I so rudely eavesdropped didn't ever progress to anything substantial. It never went into territory that explored, say, what her basic approach to the environment, or to the threat from Islamic terrorists, or how she feels about gays in the military, or whatever. None of that was ever discussed; neither was anything else substantial.

I figured, okay--it will take a few days for people to really get their heads around who she is and start talking about that. Well, no. Never happened, at least not in my experience. I had a conversation with a female colleague about a week after the announcement, and I asked point blank if she knew what Palin's stance was on abortion, the war in Iraq, etc. Not a clue. But whatever her stances are, they must be just peachy-keen, or McCain wouldn't have chosen her. "What about her asking that librarian what she'd do if Palin asked her to remove some books from the shelves?" I asked. "Well," my colleague said, "I'm sure that's just the liberal media spreading rumors about Palin." Really? So, basically, the librarian's own statement about it--that doesn't signify? Or, I asked my friend the environmentalist (also a female, also giddy about Palin's candidacy), what about how Palin has addressed environmental issues? Do you know how she votes when it comes to, say, endangered wildlife, or hunting laws, etc.? No, not really, my friend told me, but she'd for sure check on all that.

Shouldn't the giddiness happen AFTER the checking? I mean, what if Palin is a nepotistic, wildlife-endangering proponent of censorship? Shouldn't we find that out before we get giddy about her candidacy? My colleague and friend had never heard of Palin before the nomination, but there they were--effing ECSTATIC about her.

If that were all, just giddiness and ecstasy, I'd be less horrified than I am at the moment. But it's not just that. No, huh uh, no way. What I am getting also is rage--pure, unadulterated RAGE--whenever I dare to ask questions about Ms. Palin's stances or her comments or her fitness for office. It's as if I'm betraying some sisterhood by even considering that she might not be the best choice. Or, no, even worse--it's that I don't just blindly accept that she's the best choice. That's what enrages the people I've spoken with.

I see it online--so many women pissed off that Oprah won't have Palin on her show, and their reasoning? It must be that Oprah is a racist who is betraying her sisters-in-arms (read: her female viewers) by not giving broadcast time to Palin. Now, Oprah has had Obama on her show, but that was before he decided to run for office. Since then, she's had no one on there. She has endorsed Obama (as is her right), and she's done it publicly (still her right; OUR right is to decide whether that's meaningful to us and act accordingly), but I haven't heard of her using her show since the campaign began. But the enraged female posters on her Oprah community site don't really seem to focus on that. No, their anger is so fierce, burns so strongly in them, that they can barely be prevailed upon to reason at all.

Here's the deal as I see it: Palin is no sister of mine. The fact that she has ovaries and breasts doesn't make her my sister. It takes a heck of a lot more for me to claim someone as my sister. She would have to bear my scrutiny for a while before I pinned on a Palin button.

I think that the women who won't allow for scrutiny, who get enraged when anyone dares to question Palin's stances and candidacy, who take it PERSONALLY whenever someone does that--those women have apparently had their brains sucked out by some horrible HooverBrainivac or something. Or, worse, there was nothing to hoover out in the first place. THAT really worries me.

Ladies (and I use that term loosely, as your rage leads you to speak in ways more commonly associated with sociopaths)--don't get enraged. Instead, calmly point out the research you've done (and I don't mean what you've heard someone else say or what Palin herself says about her stances, etc.) that leads you to believe her an excellent choice for VP. Point out the legislation she's pushed through that you totally agree with. Show, clearly and concisely, what it is about all that she's DONE that you agree with and support. Point to actual legal records of her actions and governance. Then, and only then, can you even begin to discuss her candidacy in a reasonable and fair-minded way.

Right now, those of you who are frothing at the mouth over how Palin is being questioned only come across as even less competent and reasonable than she is. And that's saying something.

Mystery Writers Extraordinaire

Well, I've always been a voracious reader. Early memories of this personality trait: being taken to the Pan American Library by Daddy, sometimes several times a month.

The PanAm, as we called it, was a small (one might say "wee") building filled with the usual library accoutrements, nothing amazing by most people's standards, but to me it was Heaven or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

What I remember most about the Pan Am was the section where all the folk tales, fables, and myths were stacked. I remember picking up volumes of Norse myths, Greek myths, world fables, etc., and taking them home to peruse. By the time I was eleven or so, I'd read most of the books in that section of the library. Ask me what I remember, and I shall have to admit that I remember precious little, although the mention of a character or two from a particular myth is enough to get my mind going and pulling some of the long-filed-away info out of my poor, challenged brain.

I read so much then, and I read about as much now. Back then, I'd check out the maximum number of books allowed each time I visited the library, and I'd likely be done way before their due dates. If Daddy wanted to punish me with anything, taking away library priveleges was the best way.

Now, if we're talking about an average week, I read 2-3 books, more if I'm really into something and refuse to give in to sleep or hunger or whatever.

I've been really blissed out this year because most of my fave authors released something new in the past 6 months or so. Robert Crais released a new book in the Elvis Cole series, and if you've never read any books in this series, you need to do it now. Run, don't walk, to your nearest bookstore, or open up Amazon and get the first book. I dare you to read just one. John Connolly released one in the Charlie Parker series, and this book alone made all the year's reading worthwhile because reading it led me to re-read the first five books in the series, and a better series, you're not likely to find anywhere. Absolutely superb.

One of the reasons I really like Mr. Connolly's writing is that his main character, the aforementioned Charlie Parker, is so troubled and yet so funny. Make no mistake--this guy's got too much going on in his cabeza; it's not clear at all whether he's fully sane. At the series' start, he's "lost" his wife and child to a brutal murder. I do mean brutal here, folks. Their skin is flayed from their bodies, and the murder scene is one of the most horrific you're ever likely to read. He's lost them to this murder, one that is clearly not his fault, but he was off drinking when it happened, drinking after a row with his wife or maybe just a moment of clear distance between them, and he's haunted by the guilt of that and also by the certainty that he might have made a difference had he been there. Clearly, though, he'd have been just one more victim to slice up and position in some horribly psychotic fashion.

He's haunted by this, by their deaths and his "part" in them, and he's barely upright, sanity-wise. It's as if what happened has finally broken him in ways that nothing that came before could have, and that's kind of surprising, since what's come before was no easy shakes either.

Throughout the first book, he seems perilously close to completely losing it. Now, you'd think that such a man would not find humor in ANYthing. No, he'd be a ball of ugliness, all hate and guilt and shame and regret. But he finds humor in a lot. It's part of who he is, that humor, and it's telling that he can't shake it even when he's at his lowest points.

It helps that he has two "partners" in his attempts to resolve the mystery of his wife and child's deaths. Louis and Angel, the first gay sidekicks I can remember ever reading about, are bad guys. That much is clear. Both of them have violent pasts, although Angel was mostly a thief. Louis was a contract killer. They tease (well, Angel teases; Louis doesn't seem much into teasing anyone) Parker; they watch his back as much as they can; they care about him in ways that the series develops out and explains.

I love those two characters and part of my joy in reading this series comes from their interactions with Parker's character.

Throughout the six novels in this series, Mr. Connolly has developed Parker with consistent attention to detail and to continuity. But with each book, Parker becomes a far, far different man from the one we see in the first novel (Every Dead Thing).

I recently re-read the first five novels, and found myself totally blown away by how fine they were, how well-written.

Good series, I think, give us characters who become part of our memories, of our rich internal, creative lives. Parker is that, certainly, as are a few other protagonists (Elvis Cole, Patrick Kenzie, Burke, Robicheaux, Tess Monaghan). But with Parker, I find I have a real soft spot. I'm really plotzing to see him change even more, to see all the twists and turns of his life and his psyche, to see what happens between him and the people he loves and who love him.

Parker's family, and I hope he brings Angel and Louis to the next barbecue.

San Antonio Spurs--the Great Under-Appreciated

Well, our Spurs won the NBA finals, but you likely won't hear a whole lot of people going on and on about it outside of San Antonio and Charles Barkley's house.

You see, the Spurs are frequently overlooked when it comes to kudos from non-SA fans. And why is that, you may ask (or, if you are like most people, NOT ask, since you don't care)? Well, let me tell you.

What happens with the Spurs is the same thing that happens with lots of other people. They suffer from that lovely American habit of ignoring the nice guys in favor of the turds, act-ups, morons, and bad boys.

Yep, this lovely country is filled with many, many people who just can't be bothered to watch or root for anyone who is decent and hard-working. You see it all the time--recognition going to the people who act up the most, who throw tantrums, who make nasty comments, who spend their time finding ways to be obnoxious. Remember all the press Dennis Rodman got when he was with the Spurs? Oh, well, bad example, since people ignore the Spurs, generally speaking. But what I'm getting at is that we had this team largely filled with hard-working guys, guys who put time, money and effort into the community here, but the national papers were more concerned with whether Rodman was showing up for practice, whether he was wearing any make-up that week, or dressing ridiculously, or cutting/coloring his hair in some bizarre way. Meanwhile, David Robinson is doing his level best to have a positive impact on his community, but it's freaking Rodman getting the press.

Sucks.

And now--what is this team like? Well, let me tell you. These guys work damn hard together, rarely make nasty comments about ANYone, least of all each other, and are known for their selflessness. They're not perfect guys; that's not what I'm getting at. They have all the usual flaws, I'm sure. But you won't see them in the papers for sneering at each other, or talking about each other's wives in ugly ways, or for getting caught with their pants down amidst a sea of groupies, or the like. They're not likely to be labeled as "bad boys" by anyone. If one of them stumbles in a big way, THAT will stick out because it would be so rare for that to happen.

Tim Duncan? Talk about a gracious guy. In interviews--gracious and quietly funny. In person--gracious and a little shy. On the court--selfless and focused on the job he has chosen to do, on the responsibilities he has a leader of his team. If you read articles written about him, you see the same words used over and over: reliable, responsible, dedicated, determined, selfless, "fundamental," relentless. You read that he is friendly with not only his teammates but with the opposing team's players, but then focused on annihilating them on the court (and I don't mean "annihilating" in the sense that he's likely to flagrantly foul someone into a terrible, season-ending injury; I mean "annihilate" with his skill and determination). Coaches, players from other teams, sports writers--all of them respect this man. And they should. He's very young, and he's one of the best players any of us is likely to see.

But.

He's not flashy. He's not controversial. He doesn't give good interview, if what you mean by that is that he will say raunchy, controversial, insulting things about someone else. He's more likely to be self-deprecating than anything. So if you want a sound bite that will make people cringe or laugh nervously? Don't choose Duncan for an interview. By THOSE standards, he is indeed boring.

And the rest of the team? Very similar in the way they interview and play: dedicated, relentless, committed, quietly funny, unlikely to provide major soundbites you'll see repeated over and over on national TV.

It might surprise you to find that people in San Antonio look at these guys and their families as part of OUR family. David Robinson, now retired but still living here and contributing to our community in myriad ways, still gets treated like a brother when he gets spotted. You're likely to see him shopping at Borders, talking easily and kindly with fans who stop him and ask about his family as though they were sorely missed at the last backyard barbecue.

When this team wins, the city goes nuts because FAMILY won. Riverboat parades--yeah, baby. Why are those so cool? Well, because we get to cheer for our FAMILY. We get to see them at the huge celebration held at a local auditorium, and each time one of them holds up a trophy? It's like our cousin holding it up. Of course we go nuts.

But respectfully. Because hey--you wouldn't trash the place while celebrating with your cousin, would you? Heck, no. You'd party hard, but with respect. No overturned cars. No burning property. No major incidents to mar the celebration for your family members.

And we'll be the only ones celebrating because across the country? Everyone else is yawning and wishing something spicy/nasty/controversial had gone down.

Just like at work: you ignore that hard-working guy who comes in each day, does his job to the absolute best of his ability that day, is pleasant to everyone, and doesn't require people to constantly pat him on the back for him to keep at it. Oh, yeah, you ignore that guy. Admit it. The guy your eyes are drawn to is the slimeball who sleeps around, periodically makes nasty comments about the boss/supervisor/his co-workers, and comes in late all the time. Yep, that's the guy you talk about, the one you want to watch. He's INTERESTING.

And in relationships: women say all the time that they want a nice guy, but I can't tell you how often I speak to my nice guy friends and hear this from them: you women say you want a nice guy, but in the end you gravitate to the scumbags who have already PROVEN that they're slime.

Yep.

We love wickedness. We want to see bad guys more than we want to watch the good ones. And when the good ones win? We give lip service to how cool that is, but we really mean "I wish they could have shown a little 'badness' in the process of winning! Man, those good guys sure are BORING!"

And that's just wrong. Valuing people who are nasty, raunchy, disrespectful, arrogant--just plain wrong. And worst of all? We show our children every day that the good guys only get lip service respect while the bad guys get our ATTENTION. Hey, parents, good onya! Way to set the future up as a disaster zone (or rather, more of one than the present is).

Good Mornin' to Ya!

It is going to be a stinker of a day, temperature-wise. San Antonio is not a city to which people should flock in the summertime. No, lads and lassies, head for cooler environs. This place becomes a freakin' oven. Oven, I say to you. Oven. When you wake up, and it's already almost 80 degrees before 7am? You know you will need to steel yourself lest you become a small sweat spot on the concrete just walking to the bus stop an hour later.

So have you ever wondered what it is about some human beings (I have it on good authority that not all people are like this, but I'm waiting for evidence I can point to; so far, still waiting) that they have to be incredibly, ridiculously judgmental? I mean, someone walks on a bus wearing some goofy shirt, and I feel compelled to tell him/her to go home and change. Really. Why is that? I mean, the person's shirt is not going to negatively affect MY day. I'm not going to have to stare at it for hours on end or anything. If I don't like the shirt, I can just (radical concept, I know) LOOK AWAY. But in my head, this really snotty voice says, "oh, yeah, THAT'S a good look for you."

Or I'll be sitting somewhere, book in hand, basically minding my own business, and then someone will say something and I'll think to myself "that's a stupid comment!"

Each day. Judgement after judgement. What is up with that?

I can go through all the usual explanations/justifications/rationalizations: it's my own self-esteem problem that leads to this (and yeah, I'm fairly certain this is the core of it), or it's what my parents were like and I'm just the product of my environment (nurture, man!), or it's human nature to establish hierarchies of all sorts and I'm just more in tune with this part of my human nature than most people! Uh huh. Right.

Do you? Judge people all the time? If so, can you pinpoint why that is?

I catch myself doing it, and lately, I stop myself. "Jingles," I say to myself, "what the hell is wrong with you? You don't get to critique everyone else! You're just as effed up as the next guy/gal!" And mostly that works, but hey--either I'm excruciatingly slow at changing my behavior patterns, or this is more deeply ingrained than I can even guess at, because this is taking for-freaking-ever.