VBM in the Magic Kingdom

VBM in the Magic Kingdom

I enter a Disney set with fairy tale castles dotting the lakeside.

Are there lost princesses hidden within the pastel walls?

Or rare Democrats seeking sanctuary?

Time will tell as I set out on my expedition.

Fully armed with clipboard, VBM forms, and black pens,

I knock boldly on the sturdy castle doors.

Twice, the Lady of the castle, faithful canine companion in tow,

Responds to my entreaties and pledges to vote by mail.

Surreal evening journey reflects surreal story of the contest

To be crowned Leader of the Free World.

Jousting is fierce and without time-honored rules of decorum. 

Chivalry is dead.

Marching through the kingdom and surrounding fiefdoms,

I focus on the task at hand, keeping at bay thoughts of cataclysm.

I block out the 24/7 cacophony of pundits and partisans,

Foretelling a future based on an unimaginable present.

I am a mere vassal, boots on the ground.

I leave strategy to the wise ensconced at campaign headquarters.

I desperately hope they will come up with a winning plan.

For tonight, I will knock on doors in the Magic Kingdom. 

Supreme Court and Voting Rights

In June 2013, the U.S. Supreme Court struck down the heart of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. As a result of the decision, states and counties with a history of making it harder for racial minorities to vote no longer need prior approval from the Federal government to change election laws. The decision set off a wave of voting restrictions and voting roll purges in many states, including Florida. 

On Monday, the Court unanimously rejected a challenge that would have required the counting of only eligible voters in drawing election districts. This was a victory for voting rights and fair representation. I was holding my breath about this case, but we dodged this bullet (a suit brought by Texans) for the moment.

Human Rorschach Test

I made a vow months ago to avoid reading news articles about Donald Trump. I have been breaking that vow at an accelerating pace. How could I help it? I have not broken off all contact with the outside world. 

An Op Ed column in today's New York Times caught my eye. Its message was that working class whites who bore the brunt of the Iraq war were attracted by Trump's antiwar appeal. Since Trump seems to say anything that comes into his mind at the moment, people can find almost any message that appeals to them. Trump is a human Rorschach Test.

What do I see when I look at Trump? A carnival sideshow barker. "Step right up, folks. Inside this tent you will find wonders to delight you, no matter how dark your dreams and desires."

Zootopia

Zootopia is a great metropolis where predators and prey live in harmony. And the lion shall lie down with the lamb. Think "utopia". The movie tackles racism, sexism, stereotyping, profiling and affirmative action. Wow!  And this is a Disney movie. 

The plot is driven by the mystery of why some predators are suddenly reverting to, shall we say, predatory ways. Our grrl power heroine is a rookie rabbit cop who made it onto the force under a brand new affirmative action program. She teams up with an unlikely partner, a con artist fox, to solve the mystery, capture the criminals, and restore peace and harmony to the land. 

If you think this is all too serious, remember it is still a Disney animated feature. The funniest segments are clearly aimed at the adults providing transportation and popcorn for the younger audience members. With all due respect to Tax Collector Randolph (who delivered my registration renewal after a few quick clicks online), the loudest laughs came during a scene in the DMV, where all the employees were giant sloths. There was also a great take-off on The Godfather.

So why am I doing a movie review on a blog about the 2016 election cycle? Much to my surprise, the positive, inclusive message of the movie inspired me to work harder to keep the predators from completely taking over the country. Of course, I don't think we are going to create utopia. (I was never young and idealistic.) I do believe we need to continue moving toward a more inclusive, equitable society. That means working hard to elect progressive Democrats at every level of government this year, and especially keeping the White House Blue.

Direction of Time

They raise their right arms

in salute to their new leader.

Previously undetected, the fast moving body

roils the cosmos.

The fabric of space-time twists and folds

in disconcerting ways.

Does time travel in two directions?

Images of brown shirts flicker

on the screen of my mind.

Life's Lessons and Politics

I'm going to the opening of Hillary Clinton's Central Florida office this evening. When I wrote earlier that I was now supporting Hillary, I talked about acknowledging my own baggage and identifying more with her than I had been willing to admit.

As I read about the negative reaction of some younger women to Hillary and feminism, I wonder if their response derives, in part, from the fact that they haven't lived long enough to accumulate much baggage themselves. Life is messy. Compromise, injudicious decisions, real mistakes are the stuff of life. But try telling that to a twenty-something year old. I know I wouldn't have listened when I was that age. 

Wewahootee Road

Wewahootee Road

Spirits of Native American warriors run on the hidden trail.

I was out chasing Democrats who Vote By Mail.

Dark was falling; the road ahead unclear.

The sign on the side of the road said I had a lot to fear.

“You’re on your own beyond this boundary.”

That was the warning from Orange County.

I steered slowly around potholes bigger than my Civic.

To some less committed, I might look heroic.

If I go missing, my F.O., Bryan, knows the plan. 

Point the searchers to the last turf I cut on VAN.

Re-entering paved roadway and seeing homes clustered,

I searched for my targets, trying not to feel flustered.

Voter Guides, cards for Charlie and George at the ready,

Checking my map, I kept my hands on the wheel steady.

Reading house numbers in the dark strains my sight,

But I struggle on with the help of an occasional light.

One strong supporter brightens my night.

She’s fired up and ready to join our fight.

Heading for home, I hear ghost warriors chanting of the beauty

That once graced the hidden trail named Wewahootee.