Election Math (Minorities and Majorities)

It’s almost Election Day and it’s not going to be pretty. If Biden wins, Trump will make accusations of fraud and cheating. If Trump wins, it will be the same way he won four years ago: by losing the popular vote and winning the Electoral College. 

Discussions of eliminating the Electoral College are pointless. Such changes would require a constitutional amendment and is unlikely (if not impossible) in today’s political climate. Instead, let’s examine the validity of the greatest argument in favor of keeping the Electoral College: it protects the minority from the majority. 

Sure, this was the original intention: it gave southern (less populated) states more of a say in federal matters. Without it, northern states would dominate elections and control southern affairs without any vested interest. As a nation we’ve grown since then. Literally speaking, there are 130 times more people living in America than when the Constitution was ratified. Figuratively, we’ve extended voting rights to women, racial minorities, and people who don’t own homes. We have grown less segregated and more diverse. 

The sociopolitical leanings of our citizenry have also become more integrated. Poverty and absurd wealth infect all fifty states. There are liberal towns and cities in conservative states. There are conservative communities and regions in liberal states. We are a blended nation from the Key West to Point Hope. Battle lines were easily drawn during the Civil War; factions divided along state lines and popular ideologies adhered to geography. If the Civil War began today, battle lines would not be as clear as they were 160 years ago. Neighbors would find themselves on opposing sides of battle. 

Yet we still believe the Electoral College protects the minority from the majority. But does it? 

How well does the Electoral College protect the conservative minorities of California and New York from their liberal majorities? How well does the Electoral College protect the liberal minorities of Kentucky and Wyoming from their conservative majorities? Did the 943 thousand Trump voters in Maryland have any influence on the ten electorates who pledged their votes to Clinton? Did the 420 thousand Clinton voters in Oklahoma have any influence on the three electorates who pledged their votes to Trump? The answer to my first two questions are not at all, and the answer to the other two are no.

Image courtesy of Tree Hugger. 

Four years ago, I was living in Idaho. A vote for Clinton wouldn’t have mattered because the state is solidly red. All four or their Electoral College votes were going to go to Trump regardless of who I voted for. This year, I live in Washington. If I wanted to vote for Trump, it won’t matter because all twelve of this state’s Electoral College votes will go to Biden. 

People keep saying the Electoral College votes protect the smaller population of states like Idaho from larger populaces in states like Washington. In the end though, states like these don’t matter in this system. Before the polls close, we know states like Alabama and North Dakota will be wins for the Republican candidate while states like Oregon and Massachusetts will vote for the Democratic candidate. Presidential candidates could ignore most states and still win because voting patterns are predictable. The Electoral College has solidified votes in those states to the point the end result is an inevitable conclusion. This is true everywhere except the swing states. Under the Electoral College, the only states where your vote matters are swing states like Nevada, Florida, and Ohio. 

Since eliminating the Electoral College is practically impossible, maybe it’s time to revise how it works. What if we tweaked it in a way we could still use the constitutionally mandated system while ensuring it better represents its constituency? What if there was a way for the Electoral College to better protect minorities and actually reflect the will of the people? Two states already do: Nebraska and Maine. These states use a district method which allows them to split their electoral votes between two candidates so their Electoral College more accurately resembles choices made inside their voting booths. What if all states adopted similar methods? 

Let’s go back to Idaho. Trump earned 409 thousand votes over Clinton’s 189 thousand votes. The end percentages left Trump with nearly 60% of Idaho’s popular vote, but Clinton got 28%. If one in four Idaho voters voted Clinton, giving all four Electoral College votes to the candidate who only won 59.2% does not match how the state voted. Clinton got 25% of the total votes; she should have also received 25% of the Electoral College. Other candidates like Evan McMullin and Gary Johnson didn’t garner enough votes to earn a whole Electoral College vote, so the remaining three should have gone to Trump. Idaho’s Electoral College awarding one vote to Clinton and three to Trump is a better representation of the Gem State than what actually happened in 2016. 

What about a more liberal state? In Vermont, Trump won 30% of the vote to Clinton’s 57% and all three Electoral College votes went to Clinton. If the state divided their electoral votes with a district method, Clinton would have got two votes and Trump would have received one. 

What about swing states? Nearly three million people voted in Wisconsin and the difference between the winner and loser was 22 thousand votes. If only 0.76% of Trump voters had selected Clinton instead, the state would have had a different winner. The same is true in Michigan where the difference between the top two candidates was only ten thousand out of 4.8 million voters; 0.22% of the vote sealed their fate. They were statistical ties with Clinton and Trump getting 47% of the popular vote in both states. With the district method, this even match could have been demonstrated in the Electoral College with a tie vote there. Wisconsin’s 10 votes could have been split 50/50 and the same could happen with Michigan’s 16 votes. 

Finally, what about close votes in states with an odd number in the Electoral College like Colorado? There, Clinton’s 48% beat Trump’s 43%. It’s close to a tie but Clinton clearly won. You can’t split Colorado’s nine votes evenly so the advantage should go to the state’s winner. If Clinton took five Electoral College votes and Trump got four, this result would provide a truer representation of Coloradans. 

Because I’m a nerd with an analytical disposition who likes numbers and statistics, I have crunched the data and retabulated the 2016 results. In my revisionist history, Clinton receives 275 Electoral College votes and Trump loses with 263. In the end, this maintains the uses of the Electoral College system and matches the popular vote. Votes would matter everywhere, not just swing states. It’s a win win for democracy. 

We all know reality took a different turn. My proposal isn’t going to change any results this coming Tuesday. However, if you try to defend our current system by claiming it protects the minority from the majority, I will tell you you’re wrong. The Electoral College alienates the minority from the majority. Don’t believe me? Just as a Trump supporter in Hawaii if their vote is represented in the Electoral College.

What It’s Like to Be Me: All Falls Apart Pt 4, Fading Hope

For a few agonizing months, I was torn between the hope of reconciliation and the awareness such hopes would never be realized. There were signs along the way. I ignored them all. Yet the closer we came to the day she said things were over, the more obvious and unavoidable those signs became. 

My mental state also complicated things. After a decade of emotional abuse, my eyes were slowly opening to the manipulations and maltreatment I had experienced. However, I didn’t really feel free yet. I was committed to being married because I felt compelled to honor my wedding vows, despite all of the hell I endured. Growing up, I was taught that divorce was giving up, and you should never give up. Instead, at the expense of my mental health, I dug in and hoped for the best even while hope was fading.

Terra Terra Terra : “The Thing Is I'm Never As Good As When You're There”  

This is a short song, lyrically speaking. Yet it captures my uneasy feeling, that self doubt common among victims of narcissistic abuse. “I feel like I'm just too dumb to get away from myself. I feel like I'm losing touch with everyone else.” No, I wasn’t dumb, just conditioned to think I was.

Staind: “Outside” 

Aaron Lewis sings with such conviction, you can feel the pain in his voice. The agony in this song stands as an avatar of how I felt for so long, knowing all my efforts were squandered. “All the times that I've cried, all that's wasted, it's all inside.” There was also an overwhelming loneliness. When Bekah left, I lost more than my wife. I also lost my support network. All of my friends were her friends. So I lived with the lyrics “All alone I can’t mend” more than I ever want to revive.

Family of the Year: “No Good At Nothing”  

I’ve been a wallflower most of my life. Seems I’m good at it. When this song opens with the line “I feel at home on the sidelines,” I know exactly what the songwriter means. There’s some resignation here, the sort only available through an honest assessment of failures. First admitting “my magic markers just weren't magic enough,” then “Can't do nothing for a lemon who's begged for a squeeze.” These metaphors spoke to my soul better than any pastor or therapist ever could.

Tedashii and Natalie Lauren: “Love Never Leaves”  

No matter how bad the situation, no matter how difficult the relationship became, I refused to quit. I couldn’t leave because I believed love would stay. Always. There was no drug abuse in our home. No domestic violence. And (as far as I know) no infidelity. Just conflict. I didn’t believe there was a good reason for divorce. The chorus of this song explained my perspective. “I know love don’t do the same way it used to, Strangers in the same bed, I know you’re questioning about life I know this, It’s all on your face. And lately, lately, we’ve been so distant, Baby I wish things could be different, Don’t stop searching for what were missing, So don’t walk away. ‘Cause love never leaves.” Ultimately, my conviction wasn’t enough. Two people must believe this to keep a marriage together.

Mr. J. Medeiros and Tara Ellis: “Holding On”  

“Dark days cold nights, This is what we’re going through.” These words have haunted me ever since I first heard this song. I have shared it in social media a few times since its release in 2009, and I leaned hard into this song about relational perseverance after Bekah and I separated. It begs a partner to hold on and promises it will be all right. Yet it fully embraces the frailty of human emotion. “From your brow to your chin your confession is that we are lonely, If we could only escape through the memories that take precious moments like these from a youthful heart.” If I needed any last shred of hope, I found it in this song.

What It’s Like to Be Me: All Falls Apart Pt 3, Still Trying

In the months between finalizing the legal separation and the inevitable request for divorce, I tried to fix whatever it was in me that was broken. The way I saw it, if we were to save our marriage, I’d return as a better man, husband, and father. I jumped through every hoop I was told I needed to clear. I bent over backwards to be accommodating. I lost some weight. I learned to grieve. And I tried everything I could to hold together what was falling apart. 

Ultimately, my efforts failed. However, I hope the work I did was not wasted. Bekah might not have been able to see the better version of me but the better me was saved for someone else. Bekah might not have cared about the changes in my life, but my kids benefited from those changes. All things work together for the good. 

Simple Plan: “Try”  

My road to repair began with the torturous process of self examination. It isn’t a pleasant experience in any way, shape, or form. When I heard lines like “I've made more mistakes than I can even count” or “I've been the best at letting people down” I knew where the songwriters of Simple Plan were coming from, that deep well of admitting all those things you don’t like about yourself. 

NF: “Wish You Wouldn’t”  

Maintaining a relationship isn’t easy for lot of artists. Well, a lot of things are difficult for artist. One of my biggest hurts was knowing I never had a spouse who supported my craft. And for her? I’m sure she felt like I was chasing a dead dream, wasting my efforts and misplacing my priorities. For NF, it’s rapping. For me it’s writing. Those things we can’t not do. Our artistic pursuits are different but I empathize with his struggles. She doesn’t like the long hours that don’t fit inside the normal 9-5 schedule, he says “I wouldn't be with me either.” She’s mad he took on new projects without consulting her, he says “I guess I was scared to see how you reacted.” He realized what took me far too long to figure out: “it's obvious that ain’t working” 

Fitz & The Tantrums: “Fools Gold”  

“Oh maybe I just wasn’t good enough to blow your mind, you know I’ve tried.” Fitz and the Tantrums open the song with these lyrics. Most people could probably relate to the unfortunate possibility of culpability at some point in their lives. In my failing marriage, it wasn’t a question of maybe. I knew I wasn’t good enough because Bekah told me. On the day she asked for a legal separation, she spoke words I’ve never forgotten, “Your best will never be good enough for me.” To heal the emotional wounds, it might feel good to sing along, “Maybe I just wasn’t strong enough to toe the line, make true the lie.” I’m only fooling myself though. There is no maybe, I wasn’t strong enough. 

 

Linkin Park: “Final Masquerade”  

When a relationship is ending, you can sense it. As hard as we may try to stave off the feeling of inevitable dread, we know it’s there lurking in the shadows. This is the emotional state evoked in me when I listen to this Linkin Park song. It’s easy to hear the pangs of an approaching ending when they sing “I don't have a reason and you don't have the time.” I saw my own predicament of unfulfilled expectations in lyrics like “All I ever wanted, Secrets that you keep, All you ever wanted, The truth I couldn't speak.” We all want something, and when things fall apart we end up with disappointment instead. 

Staind: “Right Here”  No other song adequately describes the pointless endeavor or my attempts to save my marriage as this song from Staind. “I hope you're not intending to be so condescending, it's as much as I can take. And you're so independent, you just refuse to bend so I keep bending till I break.” I bent a lot – often when I probably shouldn’t have. All of it was done under the belief my failure to bend would give Bekah reason to divorce me. By the time it was over, I had bent so much I was broken.

All Other Ground

To the church in America: 

Where do you stand? What is your faith built upon? I’m asking about your foundation like the biblical parable of the wise and foolish builders. I’m talking about the old Sunday school choruses you taught me when I was little: “the rains came dawn and the floods came up.” Will the house of your faith stand firm or go smash? 

Because I wonder sometimes. When you call yourself an American Christian instead of a Christian American, it seems like your foundation is in your nationality and not your savior. It seems your flag is bigger than your cross. It seems like your patriotism is louder than your evangelism. It seems you’re more concerned with being a US citizen than a heavenly citizen. When you claim that any political candidate is going to save your religion while the other candidate will destroy your religion, you’re placing your hope in someone other than Jesus. You’re worshiping an idol in a fancy suit reading platitudes from a teleprompter over the Son of God who delivered the beatitudes in a garden. Your trust is in a fragile foundation. When I hear you talk about Antifa, the Black Live Matter movement, immigrant caravans, vaccinations, mask mandates, or the Hollywood elite, you sound scared. You sound like you don’t know God. You sound like you don’t understand how perfect love casts out fear. You sound like you forgot where your foundations should be built. 

Earlier today, I was reminded of another old song we used to sing in church. This was a hymn the whole congregation sang, not the simple melodies reserved for children. Perhaps, if the church meditated on these lyrics a little more, we could restore some sanity and civility to public discourse. Perhaps then we could present ourselves as a people of God and not a people of Trump. 

“My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus blood and righteousness.” Nothing less than Jesus. My hope is not in Joe Biden. It is not in Donald Trump. My hope is in the Messiah, in Christ alone and nothing less. 

“I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus name” we cannot trust the sweetest frame, the sweetest campaign promise, or the slickest lies. Politics is the art of deceit and we would be fools to trust anyone with their name on a ballot. 

“When darkness veils his lovely face, I rest on his unchanging grace.” Administrations change, laws and policies change, people change their minds, people fail, and people are filled with selfish ambition. But grace never changes. 

“In every high and stormy gale my anchor holds within the veil.” Or, as one poet put it, “While my warship is sinking I still believe in anchors, pulling fistfuls of rotten wood from my heart and I still believe in saviors.” In the chaos of America, I remain anchored to God. 

“When all around my soul gives way, he then is all my hope and stay.” I’m weary y’all. These times are hard. I’m so tired I feel it in my soul. The current state of Christianity saddens me. If I don’t have the church to encourage me, if I don’t have a government to motivate me, if I don’t have a community to heal me, then all I have is my God to guide me. 

So if I answer my own questions about the foundations of my faith, I can answer with the words from the hymnals of my childhood church, “On Christ the solid rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand.” American ground is sinking sand. Pacific Northwestern ground is sinking sand. Republican ground is sinking sand. Democratic ground is sinking sand. Legalistic ground is sinking sand. Prosperous ground is sinking sand. I stand on holy ground. I stand on ground which does not oppress the orphan, the poor, and the immigrant. I stand on the ground of justice, mercy, and humility. 

Jesus told this parable to his followers. If you hear the word of God and apply it to your life, you’re like a wise contractor who anchored a foundation in stone. Through storms and disaster, the house on a rock remained strong. If you hear the word of God and chose to ignore it, you’re like the foolish contractor who built a house on stilts along the beach. During hurricane season, a tidal surge swept away the foundations built on sand and the house collapsed. 

Dear church, I see you going all in pursuing American idols. I see you lust after wealth and power. I see your closeted racism, your anger, and your fear. And I wonder. How shaky are your foundations? Have you built your house on presidential promises of conservative judges, civic pride, and xenophobia? I urge you, no … I beg you to rebuild your faith and return to surer footing. Stand again on Christ the solid rock.

Like a Plane in the sunset

Waiting on you has been like a pilot flying a plane into the sunset being the last human to see the beautiful sight before the world is cast into darkness. 

Waiting on you has been like a little kid at bedtime hoping to stay awake a little longer - just five more minutes daddy please. 

Waiting on you has been like ordering a meal at a popular restaurant, anticipation filled with aromas from the kitchen so strong you can taste the food before it even arrives. 

Waiting on you is like a baseball game and the home team has the bases loaded when the star player steps up to bat, as the first pitch is thrown you know it’s going to be a grand slam. 

Waiting on you has been like a comedian telling a a funny story and she takes a deep breath after delivering the punchline before the crowd erupts with laughter. 

Waiting on you has been like a hike in the woods on a spring day while the roar of a waterfall grows increasingly louder long before it’s visible through the trees. 

Waiting on you has been like a radio station playing your favorite song as you reach your destination so you let the engine idle until the song is over because you need to sing along with every note. 

Waiting on you has been like savoring every moment every rainy day, of every mile driven on a road trip, of every sloppy wet kiss given by a dog, of barbecue smoke, family movie nights, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, foggy mornings, and a comfortable bed at the end of a long day. 

No longer waiting on you has been a fulfillment of joy, anticipation and preparation subsided, to have you here and hold you in our arms knowing some day you will protest bedtime, tell jokes, climb mountains, and giggle after puppy kisses. 

 Until then, I’ll forever be a pilot flying my plane into your sunset.

The Theory of American Everything Part 4: A Personal Lesson

Here is my theory of American everything: we are a nation birthed in rebellion and given the freedom to do, say, and believe anything we want. It’s what makes us the best country in the world, and it makes us the worst ever. 

Why does this matter? Because I share a trait with the common conspiracy theorist: I want my world to make sense. 

In times of unsettling changes, through momentous events or devastating tragedies, in the wake of upheaval, some individuals experience feelings of uncertainty and anxiety. The bigger world seems senseless leading people to feel disconnected and powerless. Then they hear about a grand conspiracy. For reasonable people, the tale is nothing more than a ridiculous or outlandish fantasy with no plausible basis in reality. Yet it is different for the theorist; they cling to it as it makes them feel special. They’re armed with the satisfaction of being one of the select few who have access to a secret truth. Any evidence to disprove their theory is interpreted as proof of the conspiracy. Anyone who doesn’t believe is either a part of the conspiracy or just needs to do their own research. They feel superior because they know something you don't know. The sensation is intoxicating.  

A never before felt sense of belonging leads some people believe the Freemasons are secretly controlling the course of historical events, or think celebrities are members of the Illuminati after rapidly rising from obscurity to superstar popularity. People feel powerful for the first time in their lives believing the moon landing was a hoax or alien aircraft has been hidden in a hangar inside Area 51. 

When events happens with an intensity, magnitude, or suddenness to alter the course of a culture, people look for answers. When a popular president was assassinated during a public parade, theorists rejected the official conclusion of a lone gunman and concocted complex conspiracies of a second or third shooter. When terrorists flew planes into buildings, theorists couldn’t believe a fire was hot enough to weaken the World Trade Center into catastrophic structural failure, so they invented ideas of planted explosive charges and called it an inside job. After every school shooting, theorists ignore the eye witness accounts and live video, declare it a false flag operation, and believe the victims were paid crisis actors. Their theories are absurd and easily debunked, yet it gives them what they want - to make sense of senseless tragedy. They want an explanation for the unexplainable. They want order for the disordered. 

I want the same thing. I want my world to make sense. However, this current era of history is completely illogical. I don’t understand how the nation who collaborated to build the first transcontinental railroad is the same nation who dreamed up pizzagate. I don’t understand how the American mindset which inspired great speeches like the Gettysburg Address also motivated tweets like covfefe. I don’t understand how the voters who claim celebrities shouldn’t share their political opinions elected a celebrity to be president. I don’t understand anyone who can’t see the racism behind statements like “I hit them with neo-Nazi. I hit them with everything. I got the white supremacists, the neo-Nazi. I got them all in there. Let's see. KKK, we have KKK. I got them all." I don’t understand why police officers continue to act like executioners with impunity over and over again. I don’t understand why people are so offended by the phrase “black lives matter.” And I refuse to accept any of this as normal. 

I need clarity because I’m a moderate voter living in the middle of Trump country and need to learn how to show my neighbors grace when they view people like me with disdain. Because I have four inquisitive kids who ask a lot of questions and I need to answer them when they want to know why people act with so much greed and hatred. Because I have a two day old baby and I am filled with grief over the America she has been born into. Because the violence and division in this country is antithetical to the life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness our founders conceived. Because I want to answer those questions which have no easy answers. 

Someday, history books will have to explain the Trump era. 2020 will be discussed in classrooms across America and students of the future will debate the effectiveness of our actions. When they ask why we did what we did, I hope their teachers explain it was because we were birthed in rebellion and given the freedom to believe the most ridiculous ideas imaginable. We were, as Lady Gaga would say, born this way.

The Theory of American Everything Part 3: A Philosophical Lesson

I am not an anthropologist but I am a student of pop culture. I am not a psychologist but I have studied how people think and behave. I don’t know everything there is to know about humanity but I know a lot. Rather, I know enough to make me dangerous. 

Humankind (generally speaking) is selfish. People are tribalistic by nature. We seek to protect our tribe and vie for status among it. Anyone outside our tribe is viewed as a threat and anyone who challenges our position is an enemy. Regardless of the relationships we have within our tribe, we all want to elevate ourselves in some fashion. There’s a basic human need to be accepted, and a secondary need to have people look at us with honor or respect. We just want to be special - often more special than those around us. This feeds our drive to succeed, be the best, climb corporate ladders, find popularity, accumulate wealth, and demonstrate power. 

Institutions are not perfect either. Governments, religions, businesses, families, schools. In theory, all of them are wonderful and service essential purposes. On paper it should work flawlessly. However, as soon as people get involved, it veers off course. No one is perfect. We all make mistakes. Those imperfections infect every structure and system involving a person. I’ve never seen a family or a corporation or a government exist without people. Therefore, all of them are inherently flawed by human existence. 

What does any of this have to do with the reason Americans are the way we are? Well … Everything.

Our founding fathers were human in every respect. They were selfish, arguing in favor or laws and systems that would benefit their home colony over others. They debated and haggled and bargained as best as they could. Despite their attempts to form a new nation, a collective of United States, they were also fiercely tribalistic looking to secure the prosperity of their tribes - their home-states. The people who founded the USA were also imperfect people. Several owned slaves and most held racist beliefs against both African and indigenous people. Yet despite their flaws and greed, they managed to compose and ratify our founding documents and declare independence from the Kingdom of Great Britain. 

Our nation is secured in laws codified by revolutionary rebels. It is filled with brilliant ideas and (what seemed at the time) radical methods for governance. Yet as much as it continues to direct the decisions of judicial courts and legislative bodies of our nation, we must understand our constitution isn’t perfect. It is simultaneously wonderful and terrible. Beautiful and ugly. Rational and unreasonable. 

Even the people who authored it recognized this fact. They were aware of their own faults. They knew what they created was the best they could do with their circumstances and it would never be adequate forever and always. To remedy their shortcomings, they provided a method for future generations to fix their mistakes: constitutional amendments. It’s a process we’ve followed 27 times in the 232 years since the constitution was ratified. 

With more than two centuries of history between then and now, We haven’t cured what ails the American spirit. Rather, we have amplified it. Rebellion has grown to defiance. Selfishness has transformed into arrogance. And brokenness has fractured even deeper than the founding fathers could have imagined. 

They said, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” Modern America makes some subconscious revisions to this statement. 

Many people see these words as if it says our unalienable rights are life, liberty, and happiness. We somehow believe we have the right to be happy and any person or law impeding our happiness is unjust and must be opposed. Other people add a word to the sentence, believing it guarantees the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of my happiness as if the emotional state of any singular person is more worthy than the well being of another. Our personal beliefs undermine the preceding statement: that we’re all created equal. 

We interpret the first amendment through the same narcissistic filter. We want the ability to freely worship our God and follow our rituals while expecting the government to restrict the worship and rituals from other religions. We want the liberty to speak our minds and be offensive but get offended when other people speak their minds. Media confirming our biases are fair and balanced but media with opposing bias is agenda driven fake news. We want to invade other people’s space as long as they don’t invade ours. It’s patriotic to criticize opposing political parties yet it’s treasonous when anyone criticizes our political party. 

Born with a rebellious spirit, given the freedoms to do and say and believe anything we want, in our right to pursue happiness, amplified by our egotistical philosophies. This is why we are the way we are.

American megalomania is not all bad. The liberty to dream big ideas without restriction spawned some of the greatest innovations in history: the assembly line, telephones, light bulbs, air conditioning, microwaveable popcorn. It attracted brilliant minds like Nickola Tesla and Albert Einstein, who left their homelands to bring their research and tinkering to American shores. It gifted us the beauty of national parks, the convenience of interstate highways, the entertainment of televisions, and the comfort of Snuggies. 

Freedom of speech is a mixed blessing. Both Martin Luther King Jr and David Duke spread their ideas under the banner of liberty, both seeking to inspire for diametric ideals. America gave us both Sojourner Truth and Robert E Lee, Dr Seuss and Hugh Hefner, Rachel Held Evans and Tomi Lahren. All of these people preached different values, but through American philosophy, each of them are equally valid. 

Our beliefs are also untamed. We glom onto any tenets which pique our curiosity. We embrace the craziest ideas because no one can tell us it’s wrong. It’s how the spiritualism movement attracted nearly eight million believers at the end of the 19th century. It’s why snake oil salesmen thrived at the dawn of the twentieth century. It’s how charismatic individuals like Rajneesh and Charles Manson attracted followers who would commit acts of violence in their names. It is why Heaven’s Gate and the Branch Davidians lured devotees to their deaths. It made room for the Tea Party, the alt-right, and antifa. It fuels ghost hunters and Bigfoot enthusiasts. It is the reason behind modern revivals of anti-vaxxers, flat-earthers, and QAnon. 

When you grant a population the freedom to believe whatever they want, they will. Often at the cost of their own lives. The power of belief frequently trumps ideas of safety and health, especially when there’s a tantalizing promise of wealth, sex, power, status, or belonging.

The Theory of American Everything Part 2: A Historical Lesson

My oldest son made a claim a few weeks ago, one I’ve heard before from elsewhere: if Trump wasn’t president, the Covid-19 pandemic wouldn’t be as bad. So I proposed a counter argument. How would things have transpired if Hillary Clinton had taken office instead? What would have happened if a highly contagious outbreak began during her first term in office? Most people agree the Coronavirus would have arrived regardless of who led the USA. Everyone knows Clinton’s response would be vastly different than Trump’s and probably more aggressive. While the medical community and experts in communicable diseases are nearly unanimous in the belief a more aggressive approach was needed, I asked my son if that would have made a difference. 

Let’s pretend for a moment we had a President Clinton instead of a President Trump. Hypothetically speaking, in late winter/early spring break when we first learned how bad the Coronavirus as going to be, President Clinton issued national shelter in place orders, mask mandates, and contact tracing. How well would it work? People violated and protested the stay at home orders that actually happened, they would have done the same if those orders came from a presidential decree - perhaps even more because they’d see it as federal overreach. Many of the people who refuse to wear masks now would still refuse to wear them under a President Clinton. Today, anti-maskers are against masks in support of Trump; had November 2016 happened differently, those same people would be against masks in opposition to Clinton. Americans would be resistant to contact tracing under President Clinton under the idea it violates privacy, a value sacred to many Americans. Half of this nation’s population would oppose anything she tried to do to contain this virus because she’s a Democrat. Science be damned, this is politics. 

 

It’s possible, even probable that Hillary Clinton’s approach to handling a pandemic would have been better than how Trump dealt with it. However, I don’t believe her efforts would have mattered. The people who aren’t currently taking this pandemic seriously are the same people who wouldn’t take it seriously if Clinton was president. Even with her improved response, America would still be struggling to get control of the situation, people would still be getting sick in large numbers, thousands would still die, and half our population would blame Clinton for every COVID related death. 

As Christian and I discussed this hypothetical scenario, he asked me, “Why are we this way?” 

While it is easy to blame Trump for everything that is wrong with America, I think such an accusation is a scapegoat. I don’t believe Trump is the disease, rather he’s a symptom of the disease. If we want to know why we are this way, we must look deeper than the president. I believe we are the way we are because we were designed this way. 

I asked Christian, “Who founded America.” His answer was “a bunch of old people” but that’s not exactly true. Our founding fathers are younger than we imagine them. Alexander Hamilton was 21 during the summer of 1776. A dozen singers of the Declaration of Independence were under the age of 35. So I repeated my question but he couldn’t think of an answer.

“They were rebels.” I answered for him. 

The Declaration of Independence is a treasonous document written by a people rebelling against their government. Consider a nation founded in protest and defiance. Wouldn’t that rebellious nature remain in our national spirit centuries later? ”Well, our founding fathers threw tea into a harbor, of course we’re gonna shut down freeway traffic. It’s the American way!” 

We Americans possess disdain for authority. We don’t like being told what we can or cannot do. However, even with defiance in our DNA, finding national identity with a figurative middle finger in the air isn’t enough to explain why we are the way we are. The act of rebellion that birthed the United States is important to my theory of American everything. However, to truly understand what makes us us, we must understand what was promised us by our rebellious founders. 

Our founding rebels wrote three revolutionary documents to shape this new nation they created. First was the Declaration of Independence, followed by the US Constitution, then the Bill of Rights to amend the Constitution. Through these documents, America told King George III to GTFO and set the example for all Americans to follow. The answers to why we are the way we are is also found in these documents. 

The Declaration of Independence proposes an idea of self evident truths. The first truth is we’re all created as equals. The second is we’re granted inalienable rights by our creator: rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The third truth asserts a government’s purpose is to secure our inalienable rights. This document isn’t canonized as law; it’s more a letter of intent or a formal request for separation from a tyrannical government. It demonstrated the state of mind of those who would form the laws to guide this new nation. 

Laws were created in the constitution and the amendments to follow. The first amendment, found in the Bill of Rights promised Americans freedoms of religion, speech, press, and assembly. United States law permits our citizens to believe whatever we want to believe, say whatever we want to say, print and broadcast our beliefs and thoughts in any available format, and go wherever we want to with anyone who will join us. 

Granted, there are limits. When we gather or travel, our freedoms are limited to public properties. When we speak, we can’t shout fire in a crowded room. When we express our beliefs, we can’t prevent criticism or contradictory ideas. Yet, as long as we work within reasonable boundaries, we legally possess a wide liberty unavailable in many countries. 

Consider the implication of these elements combined. We are a population with a rebellious streak hardwired into our cultural DNA and we’ve been given the freedoms to do, think, say, and believe anything we want for the sake of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That is our foundation. We built the wildest house upon those concrete footings. 

I can believe what I want in the interest of my life. I can say anything on my mind to protect my liberty. I can go anywhere I desire in pursuit of my happiness. You and every other American are also free to do the same. Of course, there are consequences and we don’t always enjoy consequences. While freedom is a core American value, accountability is not.

The Theory of American Everything Part 1: A Scientific Lesson

Life is guided by a set of rules, laws, processes, norms, and various theories. Entropy, general relativity, Newton’s laws of motion, gravity, magnetism, photosynthesis, apoptosis, string theory, uncertainty principle, quantum mechanics. These rules of science explain how our universe works: from the tiniest molecules inside our bodies to supernovas in the furthest reaches of space. Yet these laws and theories are far from complete. Even the greatest minds of history, from Plato to Galileo to Curie, they were imperfect people working with limited understanding. As we study and learn more about the workings of chemistry and physics, scientists have disproved, revised, and expanded old concepts. Even Einstein’s memorable equation of E = mc squared has its limits. It’s generally true but it’s not exactly correct either; modern science looks at Einstein’s mass-energy equivalence in a “yes, but” manner. 

Scientists examine and experiment with all of these laws to test their veracity. The majority accepts them as a basis for their understanding. They trust in the validity of these scientific norms yet believe it’s not enough. There’s gotta be something more. Something that explains everything. Some of these scientists collaborated on an idea: a hypothesis of one overarching law explaining all known laws of science into one unified formula. They call it the theory of everything. 

In the theory of everything, scientists are hopeful to connect the disconnected rules of everything from thermodynamics to quantum biology to astrophysics. They’re looking for answers to unsolved scientific problems, define the singularity at the beginning of time, explain the exceptions to known scientific standards, and fix the flaws in existing theories. If proven, the theory of everything could provide a framework that ties electromagnetism and nuclear forces to particle physics and the entirety of the space time continuum. Depending on how much credence you give to the theory of everything, it could be the next big scientific breakthrough proving the possibility of elements once confined to the imagination of science fiction: dark matter, time travel, teleportation, and interstellar exploration. 

Scientists look into both microscopes and telescopes to answer the same question: why we are the way we are. When I study history, theology, politics, and pop culture, I find myself asking the same question. Why are we the way we are? 

What makes America America? How can we be so functionally dysfunctional? How can anything be so awesome and awful at the same time? How do capitalists and anarchists coexist? Is it possible for our socialists and our libertarians to get along for the sake of our general welfare? Why do we possess the cognitive dissonance believing it’s patriotic to call Obama an illegitimate president but treason to say the same thing of Trump? Why is this nation of invention and innovation also a land of religious cults and serial killers? How do we have the greatest military force of any nation on earth and still think it’s too weak? Why is the quality of our health care going down while the cost is going up? Do we need to make America great again? Or just make America great? How did we get so divided and polarized? Where is the balance between American exceptionalism and American idiot? 

If scientists can strive to find a unified theory of everything in our universe, we should be able to find a singular theory to explain everything about America. We need something that explains both California vibes and southern charm, amber waves of grain and purple mountain majesty, Starbucks and Chick-Fil-A, bowling alleys and sandlots, comic books and gospel tracts, Fried Green Tomatoes and Boyz n the hood, Dueling Banjos and Smells Like Teen Spirit. What is the theory of American everything? 

I think I’ve figured it out – the reason America is the way it is and why we are the way we are. It's all about they way we began.

What It’s Like to Be Me: All Falls Apart Pt 2, Confronting the Inevitable

My oldest son started asking questions a couple months after Bekah asked for a legal separation. At the time, she had not yet filed for divorce and I was under the illusion she wanted to restore our relationship. Christian and I stood in a parking lot waiting to pick up his sister when he asked about our holiday plans. He wanted to know if we’d spend Thanksgiving together. And what about Christmas? I explained I would be present for as much as his mom allowed and we’d still celebrate even if it wasn’t as a whole family. Then he asked, “Do you still love Mom?” I provided an affirmative answer: yes, I did. His reply stunned me and broke my heart. “I don’t think Mom loves you anymore.” 

 When Bekah asked for legal separation, she told me she thought it was the only way to save our marriage. Looking back, it’s obvious she never had any intention of reunification. Those months between the filing of legal separation of divorce were painful as I did everything I could think of to prevent the inevitable. 

The Fray: “Break Your Plans”  

A pastor told me I needed to grieve divorce much like someone would grieve a death. However, with death you know the reason for your grief even if it seems to come too soon. But when a marriage ends, you don’t always know why. There was (to my knowledge) no infidelity. No domestic violence. No addiction or substance abuse. Bekah’s choice to leave was one I couldn’t comprehend. This is the bewilderment The Fray expresses as they beg an ex-lover to break their plans and stay. “I wish I had cheated. At least that's a reason I'd understand why you're leaving now.” Later they ask, “How do you move on so fast?” Just like this song, I was hoping for a happy ending when a happy ending as no longer an option.

The Script: “For the First Time”  

The first time I heard this song, it didn’t faze me. I’d hear lines like, “And we don't know how we got into this mad situation, only doing things out of frustration,” or, “But we both know how we're gonna make it work when it hurts when you pick yourself up you get kicked to the dirt,” but they were meaningless to me. Just catchy lines from a talented songwriter. Three years after the song was originally released, I was driving home from work for the first time after Bekah left me when this song came on the radio. By the time the chorus started, “Trying to make it work but man these times are hard,” the whole song suddenly made sense to me and I was in tears by the time I got home.

Tenth Avenue North: “Worn” 

Broken relationships are exhausting. With my melancholic disposition, happiness takes effort. I have to work hard to not appear bummed out all the time and the stresses of marital conflict seemed to add to the pressure of keeping up appearances. At some point, I just ran out of energy. When “Worn” got popular on Christian radio, every word of this song could have described my physical and emotional state. “I'm tired, I'm worn, my heart is heavy from the work it takes to keep on breathing. I've made mistakes, I've let my hope fail. My soul feels crushed by the weight of this world.” Emotional strain translates into physical decay. At the end of every day I was tired. Or as the song says, “I’m worn.”

Casting Crowns: “Broken Together” 

 When Bekah and I looked at our marriage, we saw two different things. It often seemed like she was looking at all she wished we had been while I was looking at all I wished we could be. Mark Hall of Casting Crowns captured this dichotomy, first looking to the disappointed spouse, “What do you think about when you look at me? I know we're not the fairy tale you dreamed we'd be.” Then looking at himself, “How I wish we could go back to simpler times before all our scars and all our secrets were in the light.” The reality was we were both broken people. All I wanted was to keep our family together, a goal that could only be accomplished if both parties were working together.

O.A.R.: “Shattered” 

 He sang “But I’m good without you.” I had to tell myself those words over and over even if I didn’t believe it. Because he also sang “It’s always back to you.” Was it codependency? Was it a side effect of gaslighting? Was it a self effacing and sacrificial desire to do anything to keep my family together? Was it giving into the constant criticism and harassment from Bekah’s friends or her attempts to micromanage my life post-separation? Was it the fallout from multiple threats, false accusations, and unfounded calls to the police? I don’t know. But whatever it was, I related to the question at the beginning of the chorus, “How many times can I break till I shatter?”

Bragging Rights

On April 24, 2013 Mark Encarnación sent a simple text message: “The razor-toothed piranhas of the genera Serrasalmus and Pygocentrus are the most ferocious freshwater fish in the world. In reality they seldom attack a human.” It took him 25.9 seconds while standing outside Microsoft Studios in Redmond, WA. He was also wearing a blindfold. It is a world record; no one on earth has written those two sentences into a text message in less time than 25.9 seconds. Mr. Encarnación has the right to brag about being the fastest blindfolded texter on planet earth.

Super Mario Bros was released in 1985. Since then, the video game has challenged and delighted several generations of gamers. Most people are not able to beat the game in a single sitting. Some people (like myself) gave up after the water level. However, it is possible to complete it - defeating the final boss after 4 minutes and 55 seconds. Well, you can if you are a streamer with the pseudonym Kosmic who currently holds the record for the fastest Super Mario Bros speedrun. He is definitely bragging about his achievement.


Albert Gonzalez is in the middle of serving a 20 year prison sentence for hacking. It is the longest penalty given to any person for cybercrimes. Not sure he wants to brag about that but he could if he so desired.

Catalin Alexandru Duru rode a homemade quadcopter across Lake Oareau setting a record for farthest flight by hoverboard. Feliks Zemdegs holds the Rubik’s Cube record for solving the puzzle/toy in 4.22 seconds. And Joey Chestnut is the hot dog eating champion consuming a record of 74 hot dogs with buns in 10 minutes. They all have rights to brag about their feats of skill.

Not everyone has bragging rights worth of a world record. However, we all find something to brag about. Whether it is drumming in a band at local bars or the ability to make a really good souffle, we all have claims to make ourselves feel special. Sure, we might not be the best ever but we are pretty damn good. This is how we navigate our social hierarchies and find status amongst our tribe. Me? I can tell a great story. You? You’ll have to let me know your bragging rights.

Today, however, I do not want to brag about me. I would like to brag on my fiancée’s behalf because she will never do it for herself. Why am I bragging about Annie? Well ...

In this picture, she is nearing the end of a four mile hike along Rialto Beach to Hole in the Wall. This is the longest path we have hiked together as a family In addition to all the walking: we also scrambled over rocks to observe tide pools along the shore. The next day, we drove into the Hoh Rainforest for another hike. It was shorter but a bit more strenuous, a little under 100’ elevation gain in about a half mile before coming back down to the trailhead.

It might not seem like much. Just a couple short hikes. A walk in the woods and a stroll along the beach. Most people would call it romantic. However, there’s an additional detail I should add. Annie completed these consecutive hikes while tent camping the previous nights in occasional rain while six and a half months pregnant.

We only have 18 summers with each of the kids. They will still be around after they turn 18 but we hope they begin to seek out their own adventures after graduating high school. We have 18 summers to make memories with them before the real world takes over. 18 summers of life lessons, magic and wonder, unique experiences, the thrill of travel, and the joy of discovery. Annie is more aware of this reality than anyone I have ever met. She did not go hiking last week for her own enjoyment - she went for the sake of our kids so they could see and do and be there. She is a determined woman who will jump through any hoop necessary and make personal sacrifices to ensure our kids get the best summers with us during the limited time we have as a whole family.

Thousands of people visit Rialto Beach and the Hoh Rainforest every year. Our hikes are common destinations for people visiting Olympic National Park. Annie’s feat of endurance is one that has been completed countless times before us and will be done many more times in the future. However, I can’t think of anyone who did so with as much purpose and passion as Annie. And that’s pretty damn good.

What It’s Like to Be Me: All Falls Apart Pt 1, Beginning of the End.

In the moment, endings often feel sudden. However, when looking back, you can see little bits and pieces leading to disaster. Cracks in the foundation, leaks in the roof, holes in the sheetrock, broken windows. You might be blind to these flaws, yet ignored long enough and your house will collapse.

When my ex-wife asked for a separation, I was devastated. I felt blindsided. But her request didn’t come out of nowhere. Upon reflection, I realized this had been planned for a long time. For years, we’d ignored the cracks in concrete causing our marriage to crumble. Our union didn’t end suddenly, and these songs help me understand the beginning of our end.

Breathe Carolina: “Hello Fascination”
Narcissistic abuse goes through three phases: idealization (making infatuation, fascination, affection), devaluing (criticism, mockery, blame), and discarding (rejection, shunning). If you’re interested in more details, you can read about this pattern HERE. This song from Breathe Caroline aptly describes how it feels to be on the receiving end of this type of abuse. “You build me up just to break me down, You're being loud without a sound, You paste me in just to cut me out.”

Seether: “Here and Now”
I don’t enjoy giving up. Not sure anyone really does. Sometimes, I give up too easily, yet other times I hang on far longer than I should. When it comes to toxic relationships, I’m more like Shaun Morgan singing, “I'm weary of fighting this alone, so tired of holding on to strings much better left to fray.” But with marriage and kids and family, you’re not supposed to quit. Or, at least that’s what I thought.

Quietdrive: “World War U”
We were caught in a cycle. She would manipulate me, which I allowed her to do. But then I’d get mad at her for manipulating me. Then she’d be angry because I was upset so she’d manipulate me more which I let her do causing me to … well, the cycle never ended. I’d retreat to avoid the conflict and she’d attack me for retreating which would cause me to retreat even further. That cycle didn’t end either. Who started the fight? No idea, she probably blames me. For me, I feared her entrance. This song asks, “Tell me what you came here for. To start another world war?” I got that feeling often. Yet at the end of every fight, whether it was reality or not, she made me feel like another line from there song, “You’re the good girl, I’m the bad guy.”

Hoobastank: “Never There”
Bekah asked for a separation in August but in reality, she left me several months before then. At the beginning of the year, we made an agreement to let her study outside the home. She was in college at the time, and the kids were always distracting her, even when I was home. In theory, she was to go to her mom’s house or a friend’s to get her school work done. At first, she would leave when I got home from work and be gone for a couple hours. Then a couple hours grew into the entire evening, returning after the kids were in bed. Soon, she started leaving on Saturdays as soon as she was out of bed and be gone all day. Then Sundays too. And the hour she returned home started getting later and later, often after midnight. I kept telling myself it was only for a couple months, long enough to get through the school year. Yet when school was over, she still left every day as soon as I was home from work during the week or as soon as she was out of bed on weekends. When the dudes from Hoobastank sing “You were supposed to be the closest thing to being me but your furthest away,” I understand exactly what they mean.

Candlebox: “Far Behind”
A broken relationship involves two people. Rarely is all of fault on the shoulders of one individual. This Candlebox song walks the wire between owning your own faults “Now maybe I didn't mean to treat you bad but I did it anyway” and blame “Shame you left my life so soon you should have told me, but you left me far behind.” As my marriage fell apart, I couldn’t control my partner. My only choice was to accept the role I played in our demise. Like the song says, “maybe I could have made my own mistakes but I live with what I've known.”

What It’s Like to Be Me: The Family Man Pt 2, #DadLife

When Christian was born, I was in the middle of a training class for a new job – a class with a 100% attendance expectation. My boss had to kick me out with the assurance I wouldn’t get fired for leaving. As I drove to the hospital, I imagined what our lives would be like, the changes that would come with a new baby. I could have never predicted what was to come.

Parenting isn’t easy. It is simultaneously the most difficult and most rewarding job I’ve ever held. No matter how hard you work at being a good dad, there are things for which you can’t prepare. Heartbreak is unavoidable, mistakes will be made, and life has a way of veering off course when you least expect it. The hope is to learn, and grow, and get better along the way. This set of songs reflects my efforts and errors as a father.

Sho Baraka: “Words, 2006”
Christian was always a bit quirky. After transitioning from a crib to a daybed, the toddler version of him piled all of his toys on the floor, climbed onto his bed and stood in a crucifix pose, leaned forward until he fell and belly-flopped into the pile of toys. Then he did it over and over again. He refused to eat pizza. What kind of kid doesn’t like pizza? Adults everywhere thought he was an amazing and well behaved kid, but he struggled to get along with other kids. And he would never make eye contact with people when he talked to them. His diagnosis of autism answered many lingering questions and explained all these quirky behaviors. It also opened an overstuffed box of challenges. Raising a kid on the spectrum takes all of the difficulties of parenting and turns it up to eleven. When I heard Sho Baraka share his story of parenting and autism, it wrecked me. He admitted “A child with special needs didn't fit in my plans,” a sentiment familiar to any dad raising a kid with autism.

The Swirling Eddies: “Pyro Sets a Wildfire”
One of the biggest causes of conflict in any relationship from friends to lovers is saying things you don’t mean. With kids, actions and statements can have long lasting unintended consequences. It’s the Steve Urkel dilemma: survey the chaos in your wake and ask, “Did I do that?” Mistaken, misinterpreted, misunderstood, intentions often don’t matter. This Swirling Eddies song states those intentions in the midst of blundering errors. “If played my role as diplomat, you knew it wasn’t just an act. I couldn’t stand to stand in back a faded little wallflower. I’ve maybe taken too much on, naïveté and youth is gone. But at least the juice is still turned on, I’m dancing on a live wire. I’ve summoned up a thunder cloud but I always meant to do you proud. Still, certain things are not allowed like setting off a wildfire.”

The Cure: “Why Can’t I Be You?”
Perception and reality are two different states. Between the kids’ mom and me, the perception was one of us was the parenting expert and the other was wrong about everything. I’ll let you guess which was which. In reality, I had voices outside the home telling me I was a good dad. I heard it from coworkers, pastors, my in-laws, extended family. However, their input was drowned out by the single critical voice telling me otherwise. Internally, I kept thinking something like this song: “You're so perfect you're so right as rain.” Because she was my wife, I was supposed to trust her. Why should I ever doubt her statement of facts? Even if those “facts” were telling me I was worthless. Now, as I listen to this song, I hear Robert Smith’s declaration of adoration and infatuation, but I also hear the dark underlining of someone suffering emotional abuse. “You're so wonderful too good to be true” often isn’t good or true.

A Rotterdam November: “Trainwreck”
I don’t believe anyone is ever really ready to become a parent until it happens. No matter how many books you read or classes you take, reality is much different than expectations. Even after your first kid is born, everything you thought you knew becomes irrelevant and parenting becomes a learning process. As a dad, I’ve constantly felt inadequately prepared – and often incapable. Even on my best days, I feel like a train wreck. So when the guys from A Rotterdam November sing “I could never promise I won't let you down, I won't give my word, you won't get hurt,” I’m reminded of my own inability to give my kids the lives I wish they had.

Underoath: “Some Will Seek Forgiveness, Others Escape”
More than anything, parents need grace. We need to receive it for the mistakes we made; we also need to give it for the mistakes our kids make. This is our job, to model this for our kids. The chorus of this Underoath is how I endeavor to be a dad: “Hey unfaithful I will teach you to be stronger. Hey ungraceful I will teach you to forgive one another. Hey unloving I will love you.”

Matisyahu: “Obstacles”
The first year that JJ was with us, his health was fragile. He was in and out of the hospital a dozen times eventually getting a surgery to help resolve his respiratory issues. Since then, he’s been our accident prone child. Almost had his pinky finger amputated the night before Easter when he was three. Broke a leg when a kid on a trike ran into him during preschool. Bit through his lip while learning to ride a bike. Wiped out on his scooter and skateboard more times than I can count. Christian and Chloe have their own obstacles too. Progress raising them has been chaotic. Like Matisyahu sang, “Take two steps forward, one step back, every time I get on track the light fades to black.” No matter what challenges we’ve faced, whether beyond our control or the result of my fumbling ways, the kids and I are in this together. "Me and you, you and me, I share my heart with you, you're my family.”

Donnie Trumpet & The Social Experiment: “Rememory”
Marital conflict took a toll and the strain I felt trying to hold it all together was killing me. I cannot describe the emotional turmoil anywhere near as well as this verse from Chance the Rapper, “Take a break when I break my leg, save the day when I take her hand and she break my heart and she take an arm and leg and the car and the kids.” Everything felt broken. By the time all three kids reached school age, I was suffering from depression, adrift and aimless at work and home. The only thing that mattered to me was the health and happiness of my kids. These days, they don’t remember the worst moments. Thankfully they were young enough to forget. Now they only recall the stories worth telling and retelling. But I remember.

Tour de Bux

The City of Coeur d’Alene could (if they wanted) hold a unique race every year. No, not Ironman, that’s already a thing. The city also runs their own triathlon, duathlon, marathon, and 10k runs. There’s a marathon done in the neighboring town of Hayden. And you can compete in a scenic bike race around the lake called Coeur d’Fondo.

My proposal for the city by the lake is a new bike race – one that combines this region’s love for fitness and coffee. Part race, part scavenger hunt, and part endurance test: I call it Tour de Bux.

Here’s how it works. Riders must race their bikes from one Starbucks to another, stopping at every location to consume a drink of their choice as quickly as possible, and collect a tag documenting completion for each individual store. First competitor across the finish line with the correct number of tags win. Starbucks swag and gift cards could be awarded as prizes.

The race begins with the first drink at the Coeur d’Alene Resort where Starbucks is served in the lobby cafe. Stop number two is two miles up Northwest Blvd to the Riverstone Starbucks. Next, riders head over the hill and one mile east to Ironwood Square. After drinking their third coffee, racers will ride 1.2 miles north on Government Way to the Starbucks next to Costco, then across the street to the Starbucks inside Safeway. The next two stops are also inside stores: Fred Meyer is less than a mile to the west, followed by Target about a mile and a half north on Highway 95. The final stop where competitors will drink their eighth cup of coffee is one mile north of Target at the Cornerstone Starbucks.

Finishers won’t sleep for days.

If that sounds a bit ridiculous, it is. Actually, it’s a lot of ridiculous.

Combined population for Cd’A, Dalton Gardens, and Hayden is around 69,000 people. With eight different Starbucks to choose from, that’s roughly one Starbucks per 8600 citizens. Contrast with the city of Spokane Valley (population is 99,700) where there is also eight Starbucks locations. Coeur d’Alene is comparatively coffee crowded.

In calculating Starbucks per capita in Coeur d’Alene, you can easily reduce the ration by eliminating people who (like my older brother) refuse to consume anything related to Starbucks. You can also remove people who are loyal customers of the various drive through stands and rival coffee shops like Thomas Hammer, The Human Bean, and Dutch Bros. Generously speaking, you’re left with half of the population who might frequently or occasionally patronize one of the local Starbucks which leaves us with one Starbucks per 4300 residents. Store hours are often open for business 15 hours a day. According to my overly analytical nerdy brain, each Cd’A area Starbucks exists for 287 locals during every hour it’s open.

photo courtesy of Eventige

This is overkill. Unlike my brother, I don’t despise Starbucks. I enjoy their salted caramel mochas during the holidays and I think their vanilla bean Frappuccino can be deeply satisfying on a hot summer afternoon. Yet I wonder if we really need eight different Starbucks so geographically close to each other?

News earlier this week announced the closure of 400 Starbucks stores. It wouldn’t surprise me if at least one of those closures is in Coeur d’Alene. The market is saturated, too much of a good thing.

However, if there are no store closures in Coeur d’Alene, there should be a Tour de Bux as soon as this whole COVID pandemic is over.

Rise of the Sidekicks

As a straight white male, there are a few aspects of American life I will never experience.

I will never know what it’s like to be gay in America. I will never truly know what it is like to come out of the closet with your parents and closest friends. Even though I’ve observed friends of mine go through that process, I’ll never feel that same feeling of trepidation, the worry of rejection and loss mingled with the hope of acceptance.

I will never know what it’s like to be a woman in today’s culture. I know (statistically speaking) one in six American women have been the victim of rape or attempted rape – and the frequency of sexual assault is much higher, yet I’ll never be one of those statistics. I will never feel the shame or stress of being openly harassed in public. I’ll never fear the intentions behind the way dudes look at me in passing.

I will never know what it’s like to be a person of color in a white world. I have never watched TV without finding characters who shared my lack of melanin. No one has ever crossed the street to avoid coming into contact with me and I’ve never heard a driver lock their car doors when I walked by. I’ve never been stopped by the police because I resembled a suspect in a crime. And I’ve never worried that my interactions with a cop could be fatal for me.

image courtesy of USA Today

My friends who are not white, straight, or male have lived these through these troubles. Intellectually, I understand what they’re going through, however I only share their trials vicariously. There is no first hand experiences for me. I know what happens but I don’t know at the same time. I hear their stories, I grieve with them in times of hardship, yet I cannot fully comprehend what it like to be them without actually being them.

Racism is the America’s original sin. Our nation was built by slave labor and sharecroppers. At every moment of progress, there’s been someone wealthy and powerful pulling strings ensuring there will always be loopholes to legally exploit and disparage African Americans. Bigotry infects our culture - from explicit and obvious forms of hatred to subtle biases of which most are unaware.

Battling racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, and other forms of prejudice is an underdog’s fight. For generations, discriminatory language has been socially acceptable. Exposure is essential to overcoming the bonds of hatred. Unfortunately, those mired in their own bigotry are unlikely to befriend someone they hate based on bias.

A homophobic person isn’t giving an empathetic ear to a gay person describing anxiety over revealing their sexuality. A misogynist will dismiss a woman’s admission of feeling unsafe in the workplace. A white nationalist will laugh off a black person’s account of racial profiling. Bias deafens us to stories contrary to our world view.

If those with narrow world views won’t listen to a story from someone in the LGBT community, or a woman, or a person of color, who’s story will they accept? They’ll listen to a straight white dude.

At this point in history, honest stories are crucial. Black narratives have the power to influence a generation, change the tide of legislation, and instigate waves of legal reform. Recent events have awakened a righteous anger across white America, they’re finally recognizing something is unjust and needs to change. This isn’t a new feeling to my black friends. They have felt this injustice their entire lives. They’ve been urging change for years yet no one listened until now.

With eyes slowly opening to see the institutional problems in our criminal justice system, many are still uncomfortable with or dismissive of black voices. They see something wrong but are not ready to listen to those impacted by injustice. This is where I come in: your racist uncle might not listen to Killer Mike address the challenges of being black in America, but he’d listen to me. He’d listen to you sharing real stories of real lives affected by real pain.

However, this is where white allies need to be careful. It would be easy to take over the story and make it about us. “Look at us white folk fixing everything.” Doing so would turn us into a move trope come true: the white savior.

Movie tropes are storytelling devices common enough to become predictable. When used, movies follow a similar course of events. Like dudes walking away from explosions. Sure it looks cool but does the main character have to walk away triumphantly while something blows up in a giant fireball behind them? Or do damsels in distress always have to say “my hero” when rescued from peril. While we’re at it, why do damsels always have to be in distress?

Tropes are used because they’re familiar. They’re comfortable. They make writing easier. The white savior story found from animated classics to war dramas to sci-fi blockbusters. FernGully. Dances with Wolves. The Last Samurai. Avatar. In each of those stories, a white person begins as an oppressor for a native population. Then once they’ve immersed themselves in the minority culture, they turn against the invading forces of their fellow white men and save the locals from desolation.

This fate awaits white folk if we’re not careful. We could easily insert our white privilege into black stories to save them from our white oppression. Look at us, hail the conquering hero. It's a temptation we must resist.

We (white people) need to remember African Americans are the heroes of their story. From slavery, to sharecropping and segregation, through redlining and the drug war, into our current state of militarized police and racial profiling, our system has been set up to hinder the pursuit of the American dream for minorities. They suffered every plot twist and escalating tension in the story of these United States. This is their long dark night of the soul. They are the protagonist rising to face the villains of racism and bigotry. If we are to become their ally, we must not replace their role as hero.

Heroes need sidekicks. Batman had Robin. Captain America had Bucky Barnes. If life is a comic book, white people need to be the sidekick, there to support and elevate black heroes and not demote them to a footnote.

Share the stories from black people to those who won’t listen to black people, but don’t repeat them as if they’re your own. Crave justice but don’t take over someone else’s cause just to make yourself feel better. Use your privilege to elevate those who lack privilege. Support those fighting against impossible odds. And do all you can to make the fight easier for the hero.

You know, like a sidekick.