Juxtapositions

Today is the birthday of two great philosophers.

John Locke was born in England in 1632. He is said to be one of the founders of political liberalism and a key figure in the Age of Enlightenment. He was also a physician so he advocated empiricism over mysticism, facts over conjecture, democracy over tyranny, and whiskey over beer. Many of his ideas were incorporated into the constitution of the USA.

Michael Jackson was born on this day in 1958. He was a noted singer and dancer and very strange person. His political philosophy was much like Locke's insofar as Jackson favored the pursuit of happiness, although he was a kind of forlorn character.

I've been reading a book called Nature's Mutiny by Philipp Blom, about the so-called little ice age of the 16th and 17th centuries. He argues that the changes wrought by that century-long cold snap in Europe helped shape economics and politics for centuries thereafter. Locke figures prominently in the story. It seems Locke fell in with a group whose goal was to weaken the power of King Charles II. Charles' people didn't appreciate that, so Locke had to flee to Amsterdam for a decade or so.

Locke's theses on political power and corruption may have been the inspiration for Mr. Jackson's anti-establishment musical essay "Smooth Criminal."

Youth Will be Served

On this day in 2012, little Bobby Tufts was elected mayor of Dorset, MN. At four years old he was very likely the youngest mayor in the country. Two years later, he was re-elected, but lost to a 16 year old rival in 2016. The townsfolk had apparently had enough of Mayor Tufts' temper tantrums and disjointed speeches, so they opted for maturity.

This is not as remarkable as it first appears. Dorset, a tiny village in the beautiful lake country of north central Minnesota, surrounded by five state forests, holds its mayoral elections in a unique way: Names of nominees -- dozens, usually -- are placed in a hat during the town's biennial fair and a name is drawn to challenge the incumbent. The winner is elected by acclimation, which usually involves some beer and much shouting and laughter. Sounds like a pretty decent way to do it.

I'd put the age of our current President at about six. Give me pretty much any 16 year old instead.

Mayor Tufts grew up not far from Hibbing, which as every school child knows is the town where Bob Dylan grew up. Dylan wrote a song about being young.

Here's a poem by Richard Brautigan that's kind of related.

"Ah, Great Expectations!"

Sam likes to say, "Ah, great expectations!"
at least three or four times in every
conversation. He is twelve years old.
Nobody knows what he is talking about when
he says it. Sometimes it makes people
     feel uncomfortable.

Women In Politics

My aunt Dixie was the longest-serving elected official in the history of Elkhart, Indiana, having served for eons as the City Clerk. My cousin Sue -- Dixie’s daughter -- is now the City Clerk.

My grandmother was a Massachusetts Republican back when there was almost no such thing. She worked on the senate campaign of Ed Brooke* and the gubernatorial campaigns of John Volpe. She was a delegate to the 1960 Republican National Convention in Chicago. So was aunt Dixie. Nixon was the nominee, although aunt Dixie really preferred a young actor named Ronald Reagan and Grandma was pledged to Nelson Rockefeller. She never liked Nixon.

These two were pioneers of a sort, both pretty fierce in their beliefs about advancing women’s rights and activism and all that. I guess Republicans were a little different in those days.

My mom went to the convention as a visitor and somehow got onto the main convention floor. We have a wonderful picture of my mom and aunt Dixie and some of the Indiana delegates with then-Senator Homer Capehart. Homer looked as though he’d been up all night drinking and eating pancakes, complete with rumpled coat and stained necktie. (I’ve always wondered if Homer Simpson were modeled after the portly senator from Indiana.)

That convention featured a last-minute, behind-closed-doors deal between Nixon and Rockefeller, his chief rival for the nomination. The deal assured Nixon’s nomination but, according to most accounts, Nixon had it sewn up anyway. His need for such a deal is now seen as evidence of Nixon’s raging insecurities.

I hope Senators Obama and Clinton can reach some kind of accord before the convention, although it might be the highest form of political theatre if the nomination isn’t won on the first ballot.

It will be interesting to see if Michelle Bachmann can keep from hurling herself at John McCain when he comes to this year’s convention in St. Paul.





* Brooke has been in the news lately because Barbara Walters claims she had an affair with him long, long ago. Commendably, he’s maintained his silence on the matter.

The Shortest Route...

Many years ago, I had a job interview with a consulting firm outside Washington, DC. The firm even paid my expenses to fly in from Columbus for the day. I took a taxi from what is now Reagan National Airport to the firm’s headquarters in Tysons Corner, Virginia. Tysons Corner is situated along the infamous Washington Beltway, home to a dizzying variety of contractors and consultants and research outfits, all feeding at the huge federal trough. These firms are collectively known as Beltway Bandits, but I was victimized that day by another sort of highwayman.

Imagine for a moment that the DC area is a clock face. National Airport is near the middle and Tysons Corner is at about 9:00. The minute hand (for purposes of this illustration) is on the nine, so the shortest route from the airport to Tysons Corner is straight across the minute hand (or I-66 if you’re looking at a map and not a clock). I did not know this at the time. The taxi driver took a route that was, shall we say, less than optimal. He made nearly a full circuit of the perimeter of the clock (the I-95/495 beltway) from about 6:00 counterclockwise to 9:00 -- about four times as long as the direct route. On arrival, I presented the taxi bill to my generous hosts, who knew immediately that I had really been taken for a ride.

Sometimes I feel that way about our elected leaders. There is an obvious route to a simple solution, yet we are subjected to a long dull ride through the political landscape. In some instances, like Charlie on the MTA, we never do arrive. Sometimes I feel more like a hostage than a citizen.