Yeah, I know… the headline is clickbait… and I suckered you in to reading a whole lot more… You can scroll down to the red part if you just want the proof of afterlife story.. it’s there, BUT if you want the rest of it…

Ah, dammit, Shawn…  Just looking at that picture right now fills me we love and the desire to shake the beejeezus out of you.  Could you have prevented your death?  Heck, I don’t know… but a heart attack at 42 MAY have been enough to suggest that maybe you should stop smoking unfiltered cigarettes…  But really, with a death by heart attack at 44 were you long for this world, whatever you did?  I’m not really so sure.

The thing is that it sucks for the rest of us.

You see… people want to SAY that everyone who passed away was special… I mean really TRULY special. Mmmmmm… not so much.  In this past year, I have lost two EXTRAORDINARY young men.  I lost one of my husband’s best friends, and best man from our wedding, Scott Muennink: a man for whom more than 20k was raised on a go fund me account in a matter of 48 hours, a man for whom the church was so packed for his funeral that extra rooms had to be opened.  Scott was 41 and had an aortic aneurysm.

Here I am… six months later… and this time, Shawn is mine…

And by “mine” I mean he belongs to everyone whom he ever met.  I met Shawn at 19… and he was larger than life and so full OF life it was almost unimaginable.  Shawn was never your ordinary guy… EVERYTHING was a production…  He was over the top in every possible way.  Going shopping with him involved his putting on a costume and going in character from store to store.  You couldn’t watch a movie with him because he had to rewind it 27 times and repeat all of the lines.  A trivial pursuit game with him took about four hours because he had to walk around and tell you EVERYTHING about the question without answering it… and it generally included songs and impressions.

Shawn would come stay at my house for weeks… unannounced… and make himself completely and totally at home…  And it wasn’t just MY house where he did this.  My friends all say the same thing.  He was smart, funny, beautiful… vagabond.. renegade… You name it… that was him.. and all true and real…

I had a routine with him… Every time we’d call one and other we’d start the conversation with “Why are you always bothering me??   Every time the phone rings… it’s always you!”  And we’d say this even if we hadn’t spoken for a month… then I’d tell him the WORST puns possible because he hated everything about them and loved everything about me. EVERYONE had their routine with him… whether it was their own special language, a flurry of insults…  he made everyone feel like the most important person.

He was the guy who would go visit MY PARENTS even when I wasn’t at home.  I mean what teenager does that?  He was so sad when my parents moved from Houston to Austin that he insisted on going over and saying goodbye to the house.  (My parents completely returned the affection, by the way, they drove hours out of their way just a few weeks ago to go see him in Arkansas.  I’m so glad that they did…)

I could go on for HOURS about Shawn… We went to Costa Rica together, to Vegas… I was in the hospital to see his son, Aiden, days after he was born.  I was there when he proposed to his partner on her 40th birthday. He came to see me when I was in the hospital for a week, spent the night before my wedding in my room with me.  He was MINE.  He was ALL of ours… His town literally put their flags at half mast for his death… My whole group of ragtag misfit friends has our own personal story of Shawn.  And he’s gone…

Sort of…

And here’s where the supernatural begins (Part One:  See Part Two Further Down if you Only Want the BIG ONE).

On the morning of December 7, that’s right, a day that will live in infamy, because Shawn is dramatic like that…  Heather called me on my way to work… and, through tears, said the simple,. crushing, two word sentence, “Shawn died.” 

It took me a few minutes to cry… for the tears to come… but they did.

I walked into the building and asked a friend to take my duty that morning… and I walked into the office to see if I could get a sub because “one of my best friends died.”

They tried… but they couldn’t.

So I explained to my students… and I taught.

Sometime in the middle of 3rd period my phone turned on… out of nowhere…  I was in the front of the room, but my Pandora station came on…  Lionel Richie was singing.  As I made my way across the room to turn it off, I looked and saw it was the Barry Manilow station.  (Yeah, whatever… I love Barry Manilow).  I didn’t think anything of it at that second.. but it started to settle in.  Barry Manilow?  Really?  The same Barry Manilow that Shawn and I sang LOUDLY in his mother’s car playing “Daybreak” from an 8 track as we drove from Baylor to Temple when we were 19?  The same Barry Manilow who Shawn flew in from Little Rock to see with me and my parents at the rodeo in Houston when we were in our 30s?  That Barry Manilow?  Shawn was in my room… and I knew it.

You see…  Shawn was VERY into music.  It was the centerpiece of his life.  He would sit for HOURS and play song after song…  Stevie Wonder, Prince, Justin Timberlake, Beastie Boys…  It didn’t matter… He wanted to SHARE them with you.  He showed me his original Prince albums and his middle school fan letters to Olivia Newton John .  He LOVED music… and he connected with people through that…

…now I LOVE this little story… but it ain’t nuthin.’

The big one happened Friday night, December 9.

My misfit group of friends had been communicating back and forth with each other on our private Facebook page.  You see, there’s a group of about 15 of us who have gone camping together every year in January for the past 23 years … But we’re more than that.  It goes much deeper.  We’re the island of misfit toys.  We have been beside one and other through thick and thin… and we are teachers and cake decorators and boat dispatchers and barge managers and doctors and college graduates and high school dropouts… We are SUCH a range…  and Shawn was our light.  Shawn was the center.  Shawn was what bonded us all together… and we are SO much closer than friends.  We are SO much more than family.  We are soulmates… All of us… in one mismatched bunch….soulmates… And we love each other and fight with each other and are annoyed by each other… but it is AMAZING… and our light was GONE.

So Susan said “Facebook is good… but we need to be together…”

And so we were…  we were all together at Susan’s house on Friday night.

And we brought Keystone Light because that’s what Shawn drank.  And we got Brother’s Pizzas because that’s what Shawn ate.  (That’s actually another story….  but EVERYTHING with Shawn is a story… this would go on for days if I told them all).  And we carried a picture of him around as we did all the things we did with Shawn.

We had him with us  as we drank our ritual “bucket.”  And he was part of our night…

And Heather told us he had been cremated that day… and that there would be another memorial for him in Arkansas on Sunday.

Then we sat outside around a firepit that he had made when he stayed with the Wares for one of those random weeks… and we set his picture up in a chair in the circle with us.

Susan tried to put on some music… and then IT HAPPENED.  (Yes, this is the big “it.”  No more teaser… This is how you know…)

Susan was trying to get “Big Dog” from Beaumont/Port Arthur on “I Heart Radio” because that’s the station we always listen to when we’re camping…  only it wouldn’t come in…  Her phone kept spinning saying “searching” and it was just playing clips of random songs… One after another.  So Susan tried to turn the volume down on her Bose speaker.. but no matter how many times she tried to turn it down… it got louder.  ESPECIALLY when Shawn’s lifelong friend, Alex, called to be part of the party.  Then, Susan pressed mute… and the volume stayed loud.

I’m not sure what those original song snippets were…  I remember Mark and Kajsa singing with one of them.  I wish I remembered now, but everything below happened without another random snippet:

And “Play that Funky Music White Boy” came on.  We all laughed and said, “Now that’s a Shawn song…” and it played until the line “Play that funky music ’til you die…  ”  Then it stopped.  I don’t think we gave it that much thought… Yet…

Next, “Dust in the Wind.”  I felt the tears fill my eyes as I listened to the lyrics of the song and realized how poignant it was at that moment.

(Let me interrupt this narrative BRIEFLY by saying that there were several of sitting around that circle who have experienced a communication after death…  so I don’t know if our willingness to accept has anything to do with it… BUT…)

The songs didn’t finish… they played for random amounts of time… I then heard Heather saying “Really?  This song?”  and I realized it was Guns and Roses doing “Knocking on Heaven’s Door.”

Some of us were starting to believe Shawn was with us at this point… You see, not only were the songs playing for random lengths of time, but also Susan’s phone was STILL spinning with “searching”  and there were no commercials… no DJs… just music…  So Katie says, “Wow he sure knows how to go out with a bang.”  And then… Bon Jovi “Blaze of Glory” comes on just seconds later.

Susan says, “If Prince plays, I’m going to lose it.”

There is barely a break before the opening notes of “Purple Rain” play… and, at that point, we ALL break…Every one of us is sitting and crying.

As the song is ending, Susan puts the phone and the speaker in front of the picture of Shawn and all of us join for a giant group hug.  As we are returning to our seats, before the end of the song, it switches again… “Fat Bottomed Girls” by Queen… and we all start to laugh.

I walk up the stairs to go grab a drink… and the song stops and is interrupted by “Another One Bites the Dust.”  I turn and look at the picture of Shawn and say “That’s morbid.”  The song stops… and goes BACK to “Fat Bottomed Girls.”

We sit there through other other songs… Motley Crue, Zac Brown Band. Freebird…  and each one seemed to have a connection to a person in the circle.  Mark Kean says,  “You didn’t play Ozzy Osbourne” and goes inside the house…  Before he returns, the sound of Black Sabbath and Ozzy’s voice singing “War Pigs” begins…  There have still been no commercials.  There have still been no DJs. No one has touched the phone…

Mark says that if Van Halen were to play that he’d burn his Rush CD’s.  (Several in our group mess with Mark about his undying love for Rush).  A few moments later the song “Rapper’s Delight” begins.  You see, on our camping trips Mark would often regale us with the fact that he had memorized most of the song… and rap along with it.  This time, just a clip was played…  and then … it turned off…  just seconds later I heard the unmistakable squeal of a guitar and “Eruption” was blasting from the speakers.  “That’s VAN HALEN!”  I yelled…

Mark IMMEDIATELY went back to his car…  returned with CD’s in his hand and looked to the sky.  “A deal’s a deal, buddy…” he said.. and threw his Rush CD’s in the fire…

I looked at my husband, Richard, the skeptics’ skeptic… and I said, “You’re seeing this, right”  He said, “Yes.”   I said “You know he’s here.”  He just shrugged at me.  I said “The SIMPLEST explanation is the right one, you know.”  He said “I don’t believe in this.”  I said, “Okay… that’s fine…. Explain what you’re seeing.”  He said, “I can’t.”

The phone starts up again…Bob Marley “Three Little Birds.”  You know… “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright…”  Mark Ware has a relationship with this song… but again…  the LYRICS.  Heather says , “Okay…  Shawn…  I want Led Zeppelin….”  Again, the songs go at a random length… sometimes with gaps between… sometimes not…  The whole time Susan’s phone is spinning… searching….

A song starts I have never heard before…

Chris smiles and says, “Oh yeah… this is a good one…”

I ask “Who is it?”

Heather says “Led Zeppelin… it’s called ‘Thank You.'”

So I listen….

I took one of those online quizzes… on buzzfeed or whatever.  I’ve taken dozens of those “Are you an optimist, pessimist, or realist” things…

Every time I’ve taken one I get “realist.”  If the quiz is about emotion or logic… I’m always logic.

But I’m a crazily cognitive, ovethinkiner, analyzer, questioner.  I accept nothing on faith, and nothing in my mind is fixed (except that nothing is fixed…).  So I end up thinking, “Am I REALLY those things?  or do people answer those questions with what they HOPE is true about them?”

The link to the one above is where you look at colors… and you say what shade that color is closest to in your mind.  The whole time I was taking the quiz I thought, “Well, everyone will see these the same way.  There’s only one answer.  That is so OBVIOUSLY orange…  That one IS white… there is no arguing…”

And then… they didn’t…

And then I think how true this is in life… the belief that EVERYONE must see things the way that we do… because our conclusions are so obvious… so right… (and by “we” I mean “you and I”…  or maybe I just THINK you THINK that way because I think that way… but I digress…you still with me? )

Then I read the quote it gave me again, and I thought about this election.

I have friends who seem truly angry with me on both sides of the vote.  And I can’t help it.

I’m just adjusting my sails.

I have former students, progressive friends, LGBTQIA friends, friends of color all who feel that I have turned because I won’t side with them on their anti Trump propaganda.  No, I don’t like Trump all of the sudden.  And heck, yes, many of the things he has said and done since his election have made me hella nervous…  Acting like he doesn’t support or believe in alt-right while hiring one of its advocates is scary to me.  Never truly indicating that he is going to give 100 percent to being President…  yeah, that’s not right either.

But it’s a done deal… for now…  nothing has happened yet.  So I can watch with skepticism while I adjust my sails.  (Watch with A LOT of skepticism).  He hasn’t ever said anything overtly against the gay community; and since being elected, has said he’s going to do nothing about the gay marriage decision.  He says it’s settled.  He has backed off on the idea of keeping all refugees out of the country.  He doesn’t plan to try to have Hillary Clinton further investigated… again…  He has said that even if Roe v. Wade were overturned it would go back to the states…

So… yeah, I’ve adjusted my sails… and have caught quite a bit of flak for that.  And I’m sorry to the friends whom I’ve hurt by adjusting my sail…  just know it can always be readjusted. Case in point, I’m one of the people who would add to Obama’s approval rating, and I’ve never said that.  At the moment, I truly like the way he’s handling everything. I watched and adjusted my sail.

Then, my friends on the OTHER side…  the ones who are gloating and cheering the election of President Trump.  They don’t understand why I won’t just be full on board with them.  They know I’m supporting the Presidency and they want me to be all gung ho about the stock market and all of the money that is going to come flooding back into my pockets. They’re angry that I’m not more firm in my denunciation of the protesters…  that I’m not excited about making America great again.

I think they have forgotten that I do not like Donald Trump.  He does not treat people the way that I would treat people.  He is brusque and crass and unapologetically hostile and angry.  These are the same friends who have been accusing me for at least a year of being “too PC.”  I’m not going to think this behavior is acceptable.  I still can’t read comments on news articles without my stomach churning as I cry at the ugliness and hatred of people.

I have adjusted my sails because the reality is that on January 20 Donald Trump is going to take an oath of office… and… unless something changes… for four years this will be the President.  There is no reason for me not accept it.

I think in both cases that perfect is the enemy of the good.  No, not Donald Trump.  I’m not suggesting that he’s good.  Actually, as narcissistic as this sounds (but that’s what blogs are all about after all), I’m talking about me and my version of good vs. perfect

My progressive friends want me to be  ALL IN.  They want me bashing and name calling right along side them.  They want me declaring every single move that Mr. Trump makes as obscene and horrid… and say that he continues to prove my point.  They want me to see the right as homophobes and racists and understand that the left is the true logical side. The fact that I still dislike Trump but am cautiously watchful because I believe I have no other choice at this point is not good enough for them.  They want me perfectly with them.

My conservative friends want me to be ALL IN.  They want me bashing and name calling right along side them.  They want me championing this new Presidency and all the great changes it will bring.  They want me to see the left as cry babies and poor sports.  They want me to say it’s ridiculous of the left to talk of racism and homophobia when Trump himself has denounced it.  The fact that I am giving Trump a chance and am cautiously optimistic because I believe I have no other choice at this point is not good enough for them.  They want me perfectly with them.

So here I am in this election as I often am in life…  neither pessimistic nor optimistic… but somewhere in between.

And I’ll change my sail again if I need to.

So as the media sat there slack jawed… amazed and agape… on Tuesday, November 8, I merely nodded my head.  I’m telling you.  I called this.

I’ve been talking about it since Donald Trump was named the Republican nominee.. Before that, I thought it was a joke…  Since then, I thought… “Well, I’ll be gobsmacked…  I think he could win this thing…”

No, not because I think America is a basket of deplorables… but because of the silent majority… No, no… I get it… Hillary still won the popular vote…  The majority didn’t vote for Trump, that’s not what I mean.  I’m taking about the silent majority of Trump supporters.

You see, the MAJORITY of Trump supporters are not sign waving, screaming, yelling, racist bigots and misogynists…  In fact, the majority of Trump supporters HATE that that’s the picture of him that he has presented and the media has perpetuated. (The same media who glibly told you he could never win, by the way…  the same media who now says our country is more divided than ever even though we’re exactly or LESS divided than we ever have been… don’t listen to them…).  The MAJORITY are good people who had their own reasons for voting for Trump.  They didn’t ignore what he said.  They HATED it.  They still hate it, and I hope they hold him accountable for it.

When they sat there watching the results on election night, they weren’t celebrating anything.  They sat there watching, waiting to see what was going to happen.  And, when it was over, they thought.. “Well, okay then, that’s done.  I hope I did the right thing.”  They didn’t turn to social media.  They didn’t gloat or cry out with pride.

They didn’t tell you that they were going to vote for him because they knew how you would react, and they didn’t want to lose you over it…Am I the silent majority?  I am not.  I really did vote for Johnson…  But here’s the thing… I couldn’t vote for Hillary Clinton because of what I believe.  Even if I’d RATHER she be the President than Trump… I did not want her to be President either… so, even though I actually like her.  I couldn’t vote for her… and here’s why some HAD to vote for Trump… and I hear you even though I disagree with you.

Pro-Life voter:  You love and respect America.  You know that Roe v. Wade has been upheld by the Supreme Court but your religion or your morals tell you to hate it.  You can’t continue to let the country make choices for the unborn.  You don’t know if it’s possible it can be overturned, but for the sake of the unborn children you had to try.  And you are so, so, so sorry for all of the HORRIBLE things Trump has said about women and about the gay community.. and immigrants… and this has been one of the most difficult decisions of your entire life….   but this was the ONLY candidate who supported your most important issue.. and whether he could do anything about it or not… you had to try… and you’ll still march in the pride parade, you will still fight for path to citizenship… but you just had to vote for people who couldn’t vote for themselves.

2nd amendment protector:  You couldn’t care less about any of this social issue stuff.  Let the gays be gays, let people decide on abortions for themselves…  but Clinton keeps SAYING she’s not going to do anything about guns, but you then hear her talking about more checks and limiting guns and you’re worried where it’s going to stop.  You don’t like Trump.  He’s not a nice guy..You don’t support what he’s saying, but you believe in your right to protect yourself AND to protect yourself against your government and your guns are your first line of defense.

Obamacare customer:  You watch as your insurance premiums are going to go up and your care is going to go down.  You want to be insured and follow the law but you simply don’t have the money it takes to do it.  You’ve got no problem with anyone… but you have to look out for yourself and your family… and if Trump is going to truly fix your situation, you have to vote for him. And you’re very sorry to your friends and family that might be hurt.

Blue collar worker:  You voted for Obama the last two times.  He promised to make sure that your job stayed here, but it didn’t.  You’ve been laid off time and time again.  You have gay friends, straight friends, Muslim friends… You’re a life long Democrat.  You are embarrassed at everything Trump has said… but in the end, after eight years where things were not made better for you, you voted to try something new… and you hope to God you didn’t do the wrong thing.

Bernie Sanders supporter:  To say you’re against everything that Trump has to say would be an understatement.  You are all Bernie all the way.  But you believe in supporting jobs for the Rust Belt and you also need to send a message to the DNC that you’re simply not going to take it anymore.  They took away your President.  You are not going to vote for their nominee.  You couldn’t stand Clinton and you just couldn’t stomach the idea of voting for her after your candidate was stolen from you.  You still support gays and  women and Muslims and Mexicans.  You just don’t support Hillary.

There are more… there are the people who are afraid of terrorism who think that there’s more that we could do.  There are people who are afraid that an atheist nation is trying to take over.  There are people who hate cronyism and want it to end.  There are people who want to avoid paying more in taxes.

There are all KINDS of good people who couldn’t say that they were voting for Trump because they can’t stand him and the things that he says… They didn’t ignore it.  They don’t condone it.  They speak out against it and are horrified by it.. But they, quietly, had to vote for him.

I understand all of them.

Now, the Trump voters who wear the hats and yell at Mexicans to pack up, and rip up marriage licenses, and burn down churches, and paint swastikas…  Yeah, I don’t understand them… and neither do the majority of Trump supporters.  Those ARE the basket of deplorables and they deserve to get shut down.

But as for the REST of you…  Yeah, I disagree with you.  I think you made the wrong choice.  I couldn’t do what you did.  I couldn’t put aside those other things even for a second.  Even if I could, I don’t agree with his policies. BUT I have hope.  I hope he does want you want him to for you.  I hope that you end up being happy in your decision. I hope I’m wrong about President-Elect Trump.

As for me, I’ll keep voting for what I believe is right… and in four years, I hope you’ll give me as much consideration as I’m giving you right now.

I actually really mean that headline.  I grew up in the 80s and, like any good 80s kid, I felt the dread that came with the image of the hammer and sickle.  Communists were scary.  Communists were evil.  Communists were the bad guys.

I was properly brainwashed.  (Don’t worry.  We continue to brainwash students in public schools today.  We teach them about nationalism and patriotism and civic duty.  Despite what our “liberal media” might want to tell you…  Patriotism and saying the pledge WITH the word “God” in it is still a thing… but I digress.)  I learned that our nation was the best nation on the planet… that we offered opportunities and a voice to all.  I learned that  our Constitution was written with a series of checks and balances that ensured that no ONE individual or ONE group would ever have too much power and that we would protect the minority from the tyranny of the majority.

What I have learned about myself as an adult, however, is that I am a Communist by nature.

Not the “bad” kind of Communist that I learned about in school.  I’m no Napoleon (from Animal Farm — not the French guy)… I’m no Stalin.  I’m Old Major.  I’m Karl Marx (but only the good parts.  🙂  ).  I’m the believer that we should all work very, very hard… as hard as we possibly can.  We should take what we need (including the need for entertainment) and that everyone should be able to do this. And there’s no point in asking for MORE unless we really truly need it.

I understand that this concept is completely and utterly lost on Capitalists.

See… I am in no race to get to the top.  I want to be the best at my job, yes… but nothing comes of it except the satisfaction of a job well done.  Would I take a bonus if it were offered to me?  Well, sure.  That would be nice.  Thanks for noticing and all… But I will continue to work hard despite the fact that there isn’t a rung to climb in the ladder.  I will continue to work hard despite the fact that I am not even ALLOWED to ask for a raise.  My evaluations essentially mean nothing.  I work 55 to 70 hours a week most of the time knowing that is what I will continue to do because it is my function in our society.

In general, I’m good with it.  I make enough.  I live in a house with plenty of space.  I can keep the air conditioning turned down.  I can buy food.  I have a car with heated seats.  I’m doing really, really well for my 55 to 70 hours a week.  I’m content.

But the “good” Americans… the Capitalists… they have trouble wrapping their brains around this.  They have trouble seeing why with my skills and my intelligence I don’t choose to climb…  Why don’t I want to open my own business?  Why don’t I want to change the school systems to where teachers are paid based on merit?  Why don’t I want to move up?

And I think a lot of times this is where the problem comes in… this is where the divide occurs…and this is why no amount of legislation can ever regulate human nature.  The climbers and the Capitalists are ALWAYS going to take what they can from the people who will work for what they’re given because that’s human nature.

Every time I see another bit of legislation circulating about how we need to help the working class… how we need to bring jobs back to America… how we need to raise the minimum wage…  all I can think is, “But don’t you see???  Don’t you see that the people with the money are the climbers?  These people WILL find ways to keep their money, and make more… and it will end up hurting people who just want to work harder.”

The climbers are always going to get theirs.  You try to take money out of their pockets to give to the workers, they are going to replace workers with machines.  You try to tell them that they need to offer health care to all of their full time employees, they are going to lower the number of full time workers.

We live in a country where people applaud those who learn to get around the laws that the government created so that they can keep more money in our own pockets whether they NEED it or not.  We are the land of “I earned that.  I’m not giving that away.”  So never mind that the Wendy’s CEO’s made 8 million dollars last year  and that they have 113 percent profit increase over this time last year…. they still plan to automate and put in kiosks to save money…  because more money is what it’s all about…

When the legislature tries to make laws that take money away, good brainwashed Americans will balk at the idea.  “Minimum wage should NOT be living wage.  Minimum wage is for jobs on the way UP the ladder.”   Okay, fine, but what about those for whom that job is the TOP of their ladder?  What about people whose intelligence will never allow them to climb beyond that point?  As a good Communist, I’m worried about THAT guy… who is WILLING to work harder… and our society has the money to pay him for the work he provides… but the guys at the top would rather take it.

I know that there are some companies out there who take it upon themselves to pay more… to give more benefits (Costco comes to mind).  The Capitalist view is that the companies who treat their employees best will get the best employees.  The market will correct itself when people stop working for the evil, big corporations.  The big corporations will be forced to do better if they plan to keep their employees.  That fails to take in to consideration a great many other factors — transportation to work, availability of employment, education…  and the most IMPORTANT factor.  MOST of the big companies work much harder to keep their money than to share in the profits; so since it’s the status quo, the chances to work for the Costco kinds of companies are VERY limited.

If you think by my saying this that I’m advocating for more laws and more regulation, I absolutely am not.

I am saying that the laws and the regulations WON’T MATTER… because, well, you know… people.  You can try and try all you want to legislate greed.  You can try to legislate profit sharing. You can try to force trickle down economics.  You can try to make people think for their community before they think for themselves…

Legislating corporations to share the wealth just won’t work…

The climbers will ALWAYS find the loopholes.  You’ll spend eternity sticking your fingers in the holes of the dam as another leak springs up somewhere else.

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

As for me… I will work harder…This does not make me better or more noble than the climbers.  It’s just me.  And I understand why my way will never be the way of American society.  It goes against EVERYTHING that is the “American Dream ” of the self made man.  I’ve never really taken part in that dream.  I’m apparently someone else’s dream.

Oh, and, yes… I’m a HUNDRED percent aware of what happened to Boxer at the end of Animal Farm.  I understand what happens when my usefulness is gone.

I have this poster on my wall at school.  I refer to it when I’m explaining the argument essay and also when I’m teaching satire.  I tell my students that they need to avoid logical fallacies in cogent arguments UNLESS they are using them for satirical effect.

I warn them that if they are using fallacies for satirical effect, they need to make the irony obvious otherwise their satire will backfire since it is so often hard to recognize in print.

Then came the 2016 Presidential Election, and I’m thinking I’m going to have to change my teaching.  I think the fallacy has BECOME the argument.

In the past, we would teach students to avoid these ideas because they are so easy to debunk.  But in this Presidential campaign this seems to be the modus operandi.

Remember this Direct TV ad?  If your cable goes out,  you’ll end up chasing butterflies and get killed by drug dealers?  Ridiculous, right?  It’s called a slippery slope.  Yet, we use politics to convince people if Trump gets elected,  it will be the new Holocaust and all Muslims will be sent to concentration camps.  If Hillary gets elected, nuclear war will begin.  People all over the interwebs argue this as if it’s a real thing!

And I can’t even START with the ad hominem attacks.  That’s when you attack the person and not the idea.  That never ends!   Donald Trump literally called Hillary Clinton a “nasty woman” in a Presidential debate… like that’s a thing?  Like his opinion is somehow a talking point?  What in the world?  Then we have ol’ Hill talking about the fact that the Trumpster insulted a Miss Universe winner.  Mean guy made fun of a Miss Universe contestant.  Are you kidding me?  That’s what we care about?

Then there’s the cherry picking.  That’s when you choose one thought,  one idea that suits your purposes, even if someone was talking about something entirely different.  These ideas are completely out of context. Let’s take Hill, the child rapist defender.  Yup, that’s right.  She had the gall to defend a child rapist.  Let’s forget the fact that she was a asked by a judge to do it and that she tried to turn it down.  Let’s forget about the fact that the American legal system says EVERYONE has a right to defense.  Let’s only talk about the part that best fits our argument.

And the Trumpeter has been a victim of this multiple times as well. Trump supported the war in Iraq and then LIED about it.  It’s clear!   He did it.  This “damning” quote was said to Howard Stern on a comedy radio show.  Yes, I’ve heard it, too.  Trump mumbles a non committal “Yeah, I guess so…”  in response to repeated questioning by Stern.  There is zero context given for this.  In a more blatant attack, the media claims Trump is lying when he said he never apologized to Melania for assaulting women because it didn’t happen.  This is followed up directly with a video of Melania saying “He apologized to me.”  What a liar Trump is, right?  EXCEPT… that’s NOT what he apologized for. He apologized for joking about sexually assaulting women… not for ACTUALLY assaulting them. (That’s a logical fallacy right there…from me… did you catch it?  That’s your tip off…  reductio ad absurdum.)

Their use of non sequitur is so rampant, I can’t even keep up. With my students, I refer to this as the “hey, look squirrel” form of argument.  I tell them that it doesn’t work…  I tell them that you have to address the question that has been asked of you.  Apparently, not, however.  Apparently it is completely appropriate when asked a question about sexual assault charges to say, “I’m more worried about 30,000 emails than I am about sexual assault charges.”  Ummmmm… what?  I just asked a question about sexual assault.  Why am I talking about emails?  And vice versa…

But you know what?  It’s working.  People are listening.  Voter registration is at an all time high in a lot of states.    People LOVE the logical fallacies.  Economics, individual rights, military action… those things are so very complicated…

…but “I know you are, but what am I…”  Yeah, we can all understand THAT.

In a world where people only read 140 characters at a time, watch a video, or look at a picture,  it’s not at all surprising that these little quips are substituting for argument.  In fact, the idea that most people read to this 723rd word or even clicked on something with lots of words to read it is laughable.

Catch the logical fallacy in my last statement, there, did ya?  You can join me in playing the “find the logical fallacy” game…

or maybe it’s time for me to join them in teaching argument nouveau.

I know why I’m not a self-made billionaire.

If I were on Shark Tank, I’m pretty sure I’d invest in everything.  Mark Cuban wouldn’t hold a candle to me.  Every item I see on that show looks amazing… and I “need” all of them!

Informercials are even worse!   They get half an hour to convince me about all the products I need for slap chopping, hair care, skin care, exercise… they are ALL going to change my life for the better.

Much to the chagrin of Public Enemy, I DO believe the hype.  And I can only buy the Ginsu knife because that’s the only one that will cut through the can AND the tomato and still stay sharp!

I remember when I first started hearing about “Branding.”  I was with a friend at a conference for Outback Steakhouse International.  The keynote speaker was talking about the importance of branding a business.  She mentioned things like “Kleenex” and “Scotch tape.”  She talked about how these corporations had done such an amazing job of branding that their names had become the generic terminology for ALL facial tissues and transparent tapes.

Since that time, “branding” has become prevalent in every aspect of our society.  We hear sports figures and actors talk about protecting their “brand” whether they endorse a product or not.  Their name has become their “brand.”

When my students are applying for college, I talk to them about promoting their “brand.”  I tell them to figure out who they want to be when they  present themselves to their select audience; I help them to develop the best package for doing that.

The DNC and RNC have been doing this for their candidates LONG before flop sweating Nixon lost a television debate to a handsome and polished Kennedy.  These two mega money machines have spent dollars rivaling those of Scotch tape and Kleenex to remind America over and over again that there is no other brand worth considering.  They ARE American politics.  Their representatives may change, but their objective remains clear.

We, the Democrats and Republicans, are the only two choices for the country.  There are no others.  America is a two party system.  You have to choose one of us.

“Protest votes” are a throwaway vote. If you vote for a third party, you are throwing away your right to vote.

Wow!   That’s some serous branding right there!  ( Ironic as it may be to act as though a protest is a “throw away.”  Let’s share that with  Patrick Henry, the suffragettes , the Civil Rights leaders.)

But what about when it’s NOT a protest vote?

What about when I’m voting for what I truly believe is right?

I get it.  Democrats and Republicans have their branding DOWN.  They’ve won every Presidential election since 1852.  They are far more powerful than Ma Bell.  They claim to be the only game out there.

And even though I might believe Ronco is the only food dehydrator I’ll ever want to buy, I don’t believe the Democrats and Republicans are the only two political parties we can ever have.

I don’t believe it because at least 25% of all Americans are dissatisfied with both Presidential candidates.

When a quarter of the people won’t choose Pepsi or Coca Cola, there’s room for Dr. Pepper.

Look, Democrats… if you support your candidate’s beliefs and choices for the country, vote for her.

Look, Republicans… if you support your candidate’s beliefs and choices for the country, vote for him.

But if it’s just not ringing true for you anymore… if you’re starting to realize Scotch tape just doesn’t stick as well as it used to…  it might be time to watch a new infomercial.

The major parties have now branded the third party as a “throw away” vote.  The greatest part about America is that there is no such thing.  We, the people, have the power to enact change.  Our strength comes from our numbers; if our numbers stand up and vote, no amount of branding can suppress our voices.

On November 8th, I will cast my vote for the leadership team of Gary Johnson and Bill Weld.  I will do so knowing I am doing what is best for me and hoping I am doing what is best for my country.

I will do so knowing that the likelihood of their winning the election THIS time is very small, but realizing that I may be making a vote for the future– even if it is just to make the two “brands” recognize that change is necessary if they hope to eliminate their competition.

….and maybe… just maybe…

(Hey, someone always eventually wins Powerball.  I know it’s true.  I’ve seen it in the ads.)

Know what that picture is above?  If you do, I’m FAIRLY certain you were a teenage boy sometime in the late 90s early 2000s… I’m fairly certain you had bruise marks all over your arms… and I’m fairly certain that at some point when you were in my classroom, I wanted to be the one to add to your bruises.

You know why the cliche “It’s always something” exists? … For the same reason ALL cliches exist: because they are “flipping” true.

Oh yeah, I just said “flipping…”  I just went there.  Know why?  Cause of this…Four months ago a teen flipped a water bottle at a school talent show.  More than 5 million views later… and one uppance after another… and millions and millions and millions of other views, my life has changed. Not a single teenage boy in my life goes without a water bottle– never do they actually drink from these water bottles… they just flip them… over.. .and over… and over again… trying to add degrees of difficulty to this flip.  This is annoying parents and teachers all over to the country to the point that some schools are even having to ban bottles to stop the madness…

…and I thought the problem this year would be Pokemon.

Truly, it’s harmless and silly…  distracting, yes… but is it really THAT different from anything bored teenagers have ever done to pass the time?  Probably not…  So… it got me thinking.. What are the ridiculous trends we have seen over the years and tried to fight as the silly, ineffective adults we are?

I know we can go back as far as flagpole sitting and phone booth stuffing…

But what else is there?

There is the ever popular triangle, paper, football game…

The always exciting “cup check” … because what high school teacher DOESN’T love to have to tell 18-year-old boys “Quit punching each other in the crotch!”?

when they’d bring sleeves of saltines to my classroom and try to eat seven of them in 60 seconds

when they would stab themselves in the hand with their pencils while trying to race eachother’s times by showing who could go back and forth between their fingers fastest and for the longest

erasing each other’s skin to the point where they got staph infections… that one was fun…

There was something with quarters… not drinking… but something else.  I can’t remember what it was.  Was it just spinning them?  Maybe… I’m not sure.

Walking into my classroom to a room full of people planking across my desks…

And parkour… because you can’t touch the floor when you’re trying to submit something to the “turn in” basket…

What’s funny is that many of these things went “viral” long before YouTube.  I wonder how it happened?  I wonder how the signal goes out to the masses all across America that the time has come that all must now begin to buy safety pins, put beads on them, and attach them to their Keds (You didn’t think I was leaving you out of this, did you , girls?  You girls with your friendship bracelets, and your fancy note folding, and your Tamagotchi that you had to feed in class so it wouldn’t die..)

So after 23 years in the classroom, I’m just waiting to see what the next ridiculous, distracting (and relatively harmless and teenagery ) trend there will be…  I’m sure it will be no time at all before my next “If you _______________ one more time, so help me I will…”  will come out of my mouth.

Truth is I wouldn’t have it any other way.

On Thursdays at the high school where I teach, teachers are allowed to wear jeans if we wear them in conjunction with a college shirt.

The first Thursday of the school year I looked at my green and gold, threw it aside, and put on a dress.

Now, if you know teachers, you know what a huge statement this is.  We will dress in just about any ridiculous kind of way if it means we get to wear jeans, but I couldn’t put the Baylor shirt on and show my pride for a university that let me down so badly.  A university that was willing to sacrifice women for wins.

I love football.  A lot.  I was born in Chicago and have been a rabid Chicago Bears fan from about 1983.  I know the teams, the players, the history.  I understand the strategy and I watch Red Zone on Sundays.  I am invested in the games, the playoffs…  When I was at Baylor, I went to every single home game for four years… and plenty of the road games as well.

That was in the Grant Teaff days…at the end of them anyway.  That was when Baylor was good, but not great.  Baylor played the spoiler more often than not.  “We” randomly beat a team or two in the SWC.  We were more like gnats than anything else.  We weren’t likely to win the conference or contend for a national title, but we were ranked on and off… and we’d come in and beat you… sometimes.  But no one was really worried about us.

Did I think Baylor played fair?  Oh, come on… they ALL cheat.  Every school cheats.  No, I don’t think it’s okay.  I think it’s annoying.  I think either they need to change the rules or do a better job of punishing the cheaters. They all have some version of recruiting violations, and pay for play, and grade infractions… all of them.  So, as a football fan, I sort of accepted all of it.

Then, along came Art Briles…

And it seemed in no time at all that Baylor went from being a gnat to being a juggernaut.  And I saw RGIII playing what seemed to be near flawless football… and wearing Superman socks… and winning the Heisman.  And it didn’t seem to matter whether it were him or anyone else.  Heck, Baylor won a bowl game essentially without using a quarterback. I could find Baylor gear in Academy and in the grocery store, and I didn’t have to go to Waco to get it!  A national championship in football seemed like a matter of time.  I started to worry about strength of schedule… and how “we” could truly make ourselves viable contenders for that final four playoff group.

Did I think we were cheating?  Heck, I knew we were.  Players who were getting slapped on the wrists for drunken disorderly, theft, etc.  But, hey… that happened at ALL the schools.  Still, there were rumors of something much darker, much more insidious.  Players were being recruited who didn’t have the character which Baylor was so proud of touting.  Words like “assault,”  “stalking,”  “arrest” began to circulate more and more about the new recruits.

But “we” were winning.  And I tried to think of it in the “everyone else is doing it” mentality, but it felt wrong.

And was I shocked when the truth came out?

I really would like to say that I was .  Was I horrified?  Yes, I was absolutely horrified.  I was horrified that the university AND the Waco police department were knowingly and purposely suppressing evidence, leaving cases open, lying in order to win football games.  Minimizing and victimizing women to win football games.

So I was too embarrassed to wear my Baylor shirt last Thursday.

I did not want to show support for a university that showed such disregard for others.

I was mostly happy with the way Baylor handled the situation WHEN it came out.  In my opinion,   “we” (and it’s hard to say that HERE… it’s much easier to say that when “we” are winners) did not try to make excuses.  We tried to make reparations.  The university fired and apologized… I don’t know if they cut deeply enough, but I’m glad they did it swiftly full of contrition and fault — and not full of excuses.

And I think back to my Baylor… my BEAUTIFUL Baylor.  My classes is Draper education building (at the top of the page), the wood staircase in Carroll Science (which was actually the English building) where I spent most of my hours at Baylor

Parts of buildings had been around since the school was first established in 1845.  The Burleson quadrangle which made me choose Baylor over the other universities in Texas… more because it was so beautiful than anything else

The stunning… almost breathtaking… splendor of Armstrong Browning library

and oh those Baylor football games… where the freshmen lead the team on the field… where sometimes you actually won!   Where you screamed and yelled and sang the “Good Old Baylor Line”

I loved Baylor.  I really did.  I loved Freshman Follies and foot functions (since dancing wasn’t allowed on campus when I went to school there.)  I loved being a Lariat reporter.  I loved visiting the bear on campus and going to his birthday parties.  I loved my classes and the feel.  I loved the sounds of the bell on the on the quad.  I loved looking at Pat Neff in the spring.

I used to love saying I was a Baylor grad.

I haven’t been back to the campus since I graduated… not for any particular reason.  I just haven’t.

But until this past year I was proud to say I graduated from there.

Baylor won their first post-scandal game last night.  Ho hum.  They may go on to win other games this year, but I’m embarrassed to even care.

This Thursday, I put on my Baylor shirt.

My four years at Baylor happened twenty two years before any scandal.  Hundreds of thousands of graduates have gone to the oldest continuous university in Texas and had nothing to do with victimizing women or beating dogs or getting tattoos of their mistresses on their arms while they were still married to their wives.

So I wore my Baylor shirt.

But when I wore it this week, I wore it with apology not pride.

When people asked me, “Oh, are you a Baylor grad?”  I responded, “Yes, but not a very proud one right now.”

So ‘sic em.  I guess.

I know the scandal will fade.  People’s memories and attention are very short, and it will just become another bad thing that happened sometime a long long time ago.

But I’ll always be saddened that “we” did something that made me embarrassed to wear that shirt.