Questions for a New Presidentiad

One of the big things I’d like to do right now is figure out where, exactly the middle of the road is. What exactly would a centerist believe? Where does the country balance?

That’s a tough question. Between Hollywood and the Information Age, the loudest voices always seem to get the most play–whether they represent the rest of the country, or not. It’s like…. you give that guy over there a loudspeaker and a drum set, and then, you try to hear the quiet conversation in the corner. Which may not even be happening, because the guy on the loudspeaker is a stand-up comedian, who has a schtick based on the people in the conversation in the corner.

If the loudest voices talked about religion the way they talk about politics, you’d think the whole country was made up of Jehovah’s Witnesses and Scientologists.

I’d like to know how you get people to tune back in. What about all those people who didn’t vote? Is that the electoral college? (I know how my state will go, so why get out of bed?) Alienation? (Neither candidate will represent me.)  Apathy?

I’d like to know how many people are out there, voting along party lines because it’s easier than researching a candidate, or because of brand loyalty. This is something I’ve noticed. People who sound like one party when they discuss the issues, but are voting the other party because… well, I’m not sure I understand it. Maybe it’s a case-by-case thing.

How do you get communication back?

Throwing Away The Classics

I ran into this post–which talks about why not to give children a particular book– on Carol Nissenson’s Blog the other day and despite the post’s title, it took me three or four read throughs to figure out exactly which book she was talking about. The Secret Garden. One of the books I read as a child, and enjoyed. And probably would have handed over to the next generation without a second thought. The truth is, my initial response was something more along the line of “What is she talking about?” than “Oh, she’s right.”

But she is right.

It took me a while to think of the negative stereotypes she was talking about. But, of course, they didn’t make as direct an impact on me as they would have on other children. And, in time, my memory glossed over them.  So, I went back to Padma Venkatraman’s interview, and kept reading.

Oh. Yeah. That. Well, yes.

Leave a comment and tell me if you knew right away what scenes she’s talking about, or if it took you a second.

Revisiting old stories… old songs… old anything and consciously thinking about the messages in them has been a recurring thought lately.

For instance… Pretty Woman (the song, not the move)… It’s street harassment, but kinda catchy, and you can dance to it. Still… Should little girls’ brains be marinating in the idea that you’ll hurt a stranger’s feelings if you don’t smile at him?

Return to Sender… A stalker classic. No amount of pelvis shaking is going to change the fact that the woman in the song is giving Elvis a clear NO! and his next step will be… to show up on her doorstep. Not a great example for little boys.

And The Secret Garden? Well, damn it, I liked the Secret Garden. But moving forward… I liked a lot of books. And I still want there to be time in childhood for kids to discover their own favorites. I don’t think every childhood needs to be a blow-by-blow replay of my own to be a good childhood.

The Great Hierarchy of Children’s Books

  1. Books Recommended by A Parent, Teacher, or Librarian. In my family, this included Caldecott and Newbery winners and nominees, and a large number of dog stories. Books received as gifts from any of the above. And things on school reading lists. That recommendation–the moment when someone actually hands a child a book and says “Read this”–is a high level of approval. And not all books deserve that seal of approval. This is the pinnacle of all children’s books.
  2. Books Not Recommended, but Still Enjoyed by Parents, Teachers, or Librarians. These would be the books of no particular social value (or detriment) that your mother is willing to read to or with you. Your parents aren’t holding them up as anything special. You probably brought them home, yourself. Good for you.
  3. Books That Annoy the Shit Out of Adults Not actually harmful, but your mother is not willing to read them to you or with you because she just doesn’t like them. Because, at some point, you’re old enough to read that to yourself, if you really want to read it. My family? Well, this would be any Ramona book.
  4. Books That Will Result in a DISCUSSION. These are the books that will need some parental guidance. The ones where your parents seriously disagree with some of it, or where clarification will be necessary. The family medical encyclopedia. That thing about the circus sideshow. And anything where the expectations in your family are dramatically different than what’s shown in that book. For instance: The Secret Garden is really old fashioned, isn’t it? Wow, that child is horrible.
  5. Books That Will Result in Someone’s Career Ending There weren’t a lot of books that fell into this category, when I was a kid. (We’re a fairly information-positive family.) In one notable instance, however, a really lazy grade-school teacher decided that a movie about World War II would be just as good as a more formal lesson. Her career ended somewhere during a scene with a couple f—udging* on the porch.

I believe that books can move up or down the hierarchy of children’s books without any actual censorship or book-banning taking place. I don’t think I owe a recommendation to anything, and I certainly don’t think I should recommend everything to children. Plenty of books I read myself–and enjoy, and recommend to adults–that I wouldn’t recommend to a ten year old or a six year old.

Most of the books I read, I wouldn’t recommend to a young child.

And if I do recommend a book, I want it to be good–not just enjoyable, but good–a step in the direction I believe the world should go. I want it to be something that represents something I can stand behind, and something that will give that child–and the children he comes into contact with–a better life.

*If you know how to use euphemisms, thank a teacher.

 

That’s One Hell of a “WANT” Ad!

You’d think “Newspaper Reporter” would be on the list of jobs that pay more than I make, but apparently, no. Not all the time. Not at the Fairbury Journal-News, at least. They’re looking for correspondents who are willing to work for free.

Now, in the Journal-News’ defense, it is a small-town newspaper. Like a lot of small-town newspapers, it’s probably hanging on by a thread. And maybe, it genuinely can’t afford to pay it’s reporters a real wage. I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

I thought about this.

Well, after a brief eye-roll, and a couple of snarky thoughts about the Huff-Po of the Plains, that is. Because, of course, work for “exposure” or–as this ad puts it, “credit for any stories”–is kinda a sticky point for creatives. Hell, it’s the thorn in their side.

No. I’m not going to work for free. And I’m sure as hell not going to pretend that working for “exposure” or “credit for any stories” is NOT working for free. It is.

But this is a small-town newspaper, and it happens to be one I like. (‘Cause, reasons. You know how it is.) So, I spent an hour or so thinking about what it would take–what I could ask this impoverished, small-town newspaper for in place of cold hard cash.

I came up with things. Barter could work for me. I wouldn’t mind trading some of my writing for ad space. And based on the amount of filler in the paper, they do have ad-space. Some of my other ideas were more out-there. Server space. Printers, and machines, and networks. Leftover cold cuts from the company picnic.

Whatever.

And as I thought about things I would be willing to barter–about the things that I believe are worth something to me– I began to understand that the problem isn’t cash flow, or matching column inches to ad space, or even printing up a few posters to make me happy.

There are so many things that could have been offered… but weren’t.  Ad space. Posters. Servers. A damn link on the newspaper’s website. Or even just a statement that the paper is willing to make a trade. “Let’s put our heads together, and see what we come up with.”

What’s missing is a statement that my time is valuable.

That the work I would be doing for them is valuable.

And if the situation were **somehow** reversed?

If I had twice as many twitter followers as they do, or a website of my own with an international following…

Would I get my ad space in exchange for exposure?

 

Politics As An Overheated Machine

I’m not in love with politics.

I’ve never been one of those people who throw on a straw hat and run around with a megaphone, waving the flag, and shouting sound bites.

I do kind of like complex systems, though. I love intermodal shipping. I’m passionate about the giant crane that takes apart a train and puts the boxes on a semi or a ship.

I’m not going to talk about a good candidate and an evil candidate. For what I’m saying, the individual candidates, regardless of their ideas and their platforms just don’t matter.

The conversation could be yellow or green Popcicles, and it wouldn’t matter.

It’s two choices, with the country, with the system, swinging back and forth between them. First one way, and then the other.

And the major political parties? Two kids on the same swing, both pumping as hard as they can, and both blaming the other kid if the swing goes too high.

When the swing goes too high.

You know that feeling, when you’re trapped on a swing with two bigger kids pumping, and the swing set’s feet start lifting of the ground? After a while, the whole thing starts rocking. BANG, BANG, BANG.

And you know that sooner or later, it’s going to tip over. It has to tip over. The momentum just keeps building.

You’re terrified, and you want to get off, but the big kids won’t let you. They’re not afraid. They’re having a great time. They love it.

After all, they tell you… when the swing set finally tips over, it’s going to tip on OUR side. It’s okay, you baby. We’re going to WIN.