Ponderings and Musings

In 1939, as part of the Federal Works Administration projects that were going on at the time, a new school was built in my hometown. The school housed grades Kindergarten through 12, with a student population of under 1,000. The facility was state of the art, built with art deco touches and made use of some amazing architectural decisions, including marble in the lobby, an impressive staircase and gorgeous wood work in common areas such as the library, principal’s office and the like. The building was annexed in 1956 with every effort to maintain the architectural integrity of the original building in the addition. Aside from slight changes in then pattern in the terrazzo floor in the hallways, the annex is a natural extension of the building.

I’ve mentioned before that my interest in synchronized time, which is part of a keen interest in “systems” (roads, airports, power lines, computer networks, telephones, etc.), was started in that art deco building built in 1939 when I discovered that all the clocks were connected together, despite the fact that while most were square and part of a wooden case with a speaker, others were round and some were more modern looking (in the annex). The clock system collection in our home marches on today, despite the fact that all of the clocks were discarded by school districts as being outdated and based on old technology.

Master bathroom clock from 1940

Having these clocks wired through the house, all advancing on the minute with a tick-tick in unison, can be a little odd for folks that visit and aren’t used to the noise. The clocks in the bedroom areas are the quietest ones we own but they are still quite audible. When I mention that I might swap out the clock in the master bedroom with a quieter one Earl talks me out of it, stating the he can’t sleep with the minute impulse sound. When guests visit for an overnight stay I usually disconnect the clock in the spare bedroom.

Master bedroom clock from the early 1920s

The simple but persistent technology in these clocks, technology dating back the 1880s, reminds me of a time when the United States took pride in its manufacturing prowess. “Back in the day” we had a lot of quality goods made right here at home. Solid, well-crafted, reliable things that would last a long time. Shiny and new didn’t matter; sturdy and long-lasting were the goals in the early to mid 20th century. We made things to last. We took pride in our work.

Guest bedroom clock from 1939

In 1969, the student population out grew the school building and its annex and a new high school was built on the other side of town. The new high school was built to modern specifications. There was no marble, no grand staircase. Classroom walls were painted over cinderblocks. Large embossed numerals denoting room number were nowhere to be found; numbers were painted on molding around the door. The clocks, while tick-ticking once a minute, were made by a different company, oddly placed in some rooms and not as reliable. The clocks in the 1969 building failed before the clocks in the 1939 building did. There was no pattern on the hallway floor as there was no terrazzo to be found. The school was adequate and met the expectations of the populace in the 1960s. When I went to that high school 20 years later there were leaks in the ceiling on the second floor. The stage lighting panel in the auditorium caught fire during a production of “South Pacific” but it was quickly extinguished. The auditorium chairs were replaced not long after I graduated in 1986. The whole building just felt more “plastic”.

Jamie’s bedroom clock from 1941

When these clocks wired throughout the house tick-tick to indicate the passage of another minute, I’m occasionally reminded of the days of old when the country seemed to be a little more solid. Admittedly, societal norms were not kind to society as whole but forward progress was inching ahead. Presidents acted presidential, there seemed to be a general sense of local community and our country made things. Solid things. Things that would stand the test of time.

I’ve lain awake at night for the majority of this month, the tick-tick of time moving on in the background, wondering what lies ahead for the country. I’ve tried to muster up a positive outlook. I look for the brightness but my dreams when I sleep are plagued with darkness. The future feels plastic. The foundation feels crumbled. Past changes in presidents have felt like that change in the pattern in the hallway terrazzo. The hallway is still there and the pattern is similar but familiar. I feel like the hallway has come to an end and no one has built a staircase to go to another level.

But time continues to march on.

I was driving home from working in a nearby office yesterday when I stopped at the Clifton Springs Service Area on the New York State Thruway. I needed the bathroom break, I wanted to stretch my legs and I was in the mood for an unsweetened iced tea from Starbucks. There was a chance that I could satisfy the sweet tooth I was feeling as well.

As I made my way through the parking lot, looking for a place to park, I noticed a man standing a space looking quite despondent. Nearby was a run-down car of foreign manufacture. The trunk was up, even though it was raining. The man had a wandering gait. I parked nearby and made my way into the building. I noticed the man had started approaching another motorist going to his car but thought better of it and went back to the spot near the broken-down car.  My attention to this was casual and by the time I was in the building I had forgotten all about it.

Armed with an unsweetened iced tea and an oat bar from Starbucks, I was walking back across the parking lot when the same man approached me. It was raining harder.

“Hey, would you be willing to trade a case of Gatorade for some gas money?”, he asked.

I shook my head, murmured an apology to the negative (I don’t need that much Gatorade when I have unsweetened iced tea) and walked to the Jeep.  As I got in the Jeep, I looked back and saw that he had sat down in the empty spot next to his car. The trunk was still open. The rain prevented me from determining if he was crying or not. In the background I could see the woman in the passenger seat with her head on her hands in a despondent pose.

I pulled out my wallet and took out some money. I went back out in the rain and walked over to the man sitting in the parking space and gave him the cash. It would be enough for him to put a decent amount of gas in his car. 

“Here, take this. Keep the Gatorade”, I stammered.  He thanked me several times as I walked back to the Jeep.

I did this without hesitation once I made up my mind to give the man money, but there was a hesitation as the cynic in me worried about being scammed. I wondered how someone could get to that point in their life that he professed to be, stuck at the Clifton Springs Service Area with no way to put gas in the car. Fleetingly I wondered how someone could go through life asking for handouts. 

And then I put all that cynicism aside and decided that whether this was the right situation or not, I needed to be better about trying to make the world a better place. And that’s when all hesitation disappeared and I approached the man to tell him to keep his case of Gatorade.

I don’t know if I was scammed. Honestly, I don’t care. Whatever the reason he had for asking a stranger for money, I hope that he is in a better place today. 

Sometimes we just need to pay it forward with no questions asked.

I needed to see US citizens exercising their right to free speech. I wanted to see people speaking out. I sought to feel the tempo of the country.  I drove to Manhattan for the second night of protests outside of Trump Tower.

The tone was peaceful but determined. The most aggressive people I noticed, and mind you I know my experience was not a scientific measure by any means, were Trump supporters yelling, angry and explosive back at the protestors. “Get jobs!” “Our money feeds you!”  “You’re just a fag!” At the time I was just standing there observing and have to admit, it’s been years since someone called me a name like that, but I can confirm that it still hurts but at 48 it like water on a duck’s back.

Chants included “Immigrants are welcome here”, “Donald Trump has got to go”, “Pussy Bites Back” and more. I’d roughly guess that there were between one and two thousand folks around Trump Tower. Trump supporters were very scarce. One man was in a Nazi soldier uniform. That was not a pleasant sight to see.

We are so far away from unity. I can’t help but think if Secretary Clinton was president (and Trump had won the popular vote) we’d have the same scenario of protestors, just with a different cast of characters.

I left after a couple of hours, appreciative of the fact that the Constitution allows for this type of protest. We live in a great country, but it is far from being a united country.

I was telling Earl this morning that I’m not sure that I’m going to be able to handle the stress of this Presidential Election until Tuesday night. Earlier I did something that I’ve never done before; I’ve self-censored incoming Tweets into my timeline, blocking the keywords “Hillary”, “Clinton” and “Trump”.  My self-imposed censorship is in effect for 24 hours. By lunchtime tomorrow my Twitter feed will move back to its current state of complete chaos.

I like to think that I am a responsible citizen of the United States. We pay our taxes, we respect those that hold power and we try to remain informed on national events. However, the amount of hypocrisy and the sheer number of lies that are being spewed all over the place, whether it be in newspapers, on the Internet or via one’s favorite cable news channel, is absolutely breathtaking. For example, when it was revealed that Melania Trump worked without a work visa in the United States, therefore technically making her an illegal immigrant, many Trump supporters responded with a resounding “Who cares? It was 20 years ago.”

What?

We’ve had to listen to people go on and on about Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky, even though that was 20 years ago, never mind that Bill isn’t even running for President this time around.  We’ve had to listen to folks go on and on about illegal immigrants and how they’re destroying the U.S. Economy by taking all manner of jobs from Americans. Hello! Cluephone! That’s what Melania, Donald Trump’s wife, did herself 20 years ago! The hypocrisy is killing me.

Look, I think that the choices we have for President on Tuesday are nearly the bottom of the barrel. I’ve said before that I can’t believe that “The Greatest Country in the World” can’t do better than what we’ve been flogged with for the past two years. We are better than this. The United States is better than this. We deserve better. But the corruption of an otherwise amazing political system has basically given us these two to choose from and I can’t help but think that every Founding Father is spinning double time in their graves.

I have been getting through under the foolish notion that this chaos and insanity will be over once someone (god willing, it ain’t the Cheeto Colored Turd) is announced as the new president of the United States, but in all likeliness this is only the beginning of being barraged with lies and stupidity. If Hillary wins there’s a good chance that not much will get accomplished, especially when Republicans are now saying they’re going to try to keep the Supreme Court seat vacant until the 2020 election. (How’s that “working for the people” thing working out for you these days?) If Donald wins, well, I wouldn’t be surprised if we get nuked before we get a chance to have another election.

I’m looking forward to casting my vote on Tuesday but only just to get it over with. Any feeling of national pride or civic duty has long since faded with the constant stream of crap that we’ve been subjected to.

Let’s hope that we’re all around a year from now to laugh about it. I doubt we’ll be laughing even then.

It’s been a while since I’ve written a blog entry. I suppose like many Americans, I feel anticipation, worry and an overall, general uneasy feeling about the election that is taking place 13 days from today. 

I’ve been following the election pretty closely for the past several months.  A couple of weeks ago I solidified my decision as to whom I would vote for and to me, the only sane choice on the 8th of November is to vote for Hillary Clinton. I will be coloring in the dot next to her name when I get my turn in the unsteady, unprivate kiosk that I will share with others from our town.

Gosh how I miss the days when voting was a ritual and you went into a curtained booth, pulled the lever and moved another lever to make the votes count and the curtains make a whooshing sound.  Now we’re thrown into this little makeshift cardtable with all the privacy of the DMV. Standing naked in the DMV. There’s no dignity in the New York State Election Process anymore. I hate the electronic voting machines because I don’t entirely trust them.

I’m digressing.

I’m feeling rather anxious about this election because I feel the country is standing on the brink of complete insanity and that the unexpected may happen and then, quite frankly, all hell will break loose.  To quote someone recently blathering on some talk radio show, “President Clinton may turn out to be a bad president but President Trump would most likely be the last president. Ever.”

And this is what concerns me.

My interest in Facebook is gone. Outside of the gross privacy concerns, it has become increasingly evident that I’ve known some stupid people over the years. I’m apparently related to some god-fearing conspiracy theory nuts (and by the way, I do have my own tinfoil hat, thank you very much) and there are some folks that I can’t believe made it through the same high school that I graduated from. And I wasn’t really that close top of my class. Facebook must bring out the sheer idiocy of the masses and the problem is that many people use Facebook as a source of news.

That’s freakin’ scary to me.

I’m concerned that enough people are going to pull the lever of insanity and push this country over the cliff into chaos. I fear Supreme Court Justices that will take away women’s rights to do what they want with their own bodies. I fear those same, new justices reversing my marriage to Earl. I fear that we could really enter some sort of Civil War, or even worse, enter the Second Dark Ages, where knowledge is eschewed in lieu of sound bites and empty promises.

If you’re an American citizen of legal voting age, reading this blog and have no plans on voting, you completely disappoint me. I care who you vote for, but more importantly, I care that you exercise your right to vote. Many men and women have died in the past 240 years to guarantee your right to vote and if you choose to ignore that right then first and foremost, you have no right to complain but more importantly, you have no voice and you are completely disrespectful of our country. It’s unfathomable to me that people can sit home on voting day. Get out. VOTE.

Gosh, I can’t wait for this election to be over. 

I’ve been sort of off the blogging grid for a few days. Now we are headed home.