In the home stretch

If you pay as much attention to American politics as I do, you'll no doubt be in agony during this upcoming week preceding the midterm elections. Anyway, here's what I've been finding most noteworthy about Decision 2006 up to this point:

• Last week, the New Jersey Supreme Court ruled that the state's Constitution guarantees equal protection for gay and lesbian couples under the law. Fear mongers have said that the decision legalized gay marriage. This is false. The Court said that New Jersey lawmakers have 180 days to implement legislation granting equal rights to gay couples, but also specifically stated that the decision was not an endorsement of same-sex marriage. Misinformation on this news item is being used to strike fear in voters who might not even otherwise consider gay-rights issues in their voting decisions this fall.
• Thankfully, several congressional candidates whom I consider most offensive and harmful to the well-being of this country appear to be on their way to defeat. Chief among them are Sens. Rick Santorum of Pennsylvania, Mike DeWine of Ohio, and Conrad Burns of Montana. In Iowa, Democrats appear well positioned to win two seats in the House, with Bruce Braley over Mike Whalen, and Leonard Boswell over Jeff Lamberti.
• Speaking of Lamberti, George W. Bush got the guy's name wrong twice while stumping for him in Des Moines last Thursday. Bush doesn't care -- or know a thing about -- any of these candidates for whom he's campaigning; he just wants to keep a slate of "rubber stamp" lawmakers in Congress.
• In the gubernatorial races, Democrats are poised to win all of their incumbencies, such as Arizona, Illinois, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. They may pick up seats in key states like Minnesota, Colorado, and Massachusetts.

October 2006 destination: Chicago, Illinois

It seemed an easy decision to highlight my native city as a monthly destination sooner or later. The only difficulty in so doing is the vast array of material to cover when you're talking about a place like Chicago - much more than can be adequately summarized in a petty blog post.

I've been told on more than one occasion that I've got a Chicago accent, something I obviously never heard before leaving Illinois for college. It puzzled me to think the city could actually be identified with a specific dialect; I thought people there talked like everyone else in the Midwest. Apparently, though, the way English is spoken is every bit as unique as the city's character in general.

I could start with the architecture, but that alone is worthy of a book. Suffice it to say there's not a city in the world that rivals Chicago's lakefront skyline, replete with steal skyscrapers including the 1,450-foot Sears Tower, which was for over two decades the world's undisputed tallest building. Or how about the needle-like profile of Two Prudential Plaza, with its top spire that looks sharp enough to pierce right through the sky? Or the John Hancock Center, locally referred to simply as, "Big John."

Then there's the food. Yes, deep-dish pizza first comes to mind, but what about the ethnic eateries and trendy fine-dining establishments that dot the city? You could live here for your entire life and never eat at the same restaurant twice. Chicago has good reason to compete with Houston for the title of "America's fattest city." (Houston, on the other hand, has some explaining to do.)

And lest I forget about the city's culture, I should make mention of Chicago's countless museums, theaters, sports legends, and historical icons. This city is like a microcosm of broader American culture, all represented in a municipality of just under 3 million people (9 million, if you count the suburbs). The same place known for cultural heroes like Michael Jordan and Jane Addams has also produced its share of infamy, like Al Capone. Chicago is nothing if not diverse.

Yes, it's my kind of town, Chicago is. It's the kind of place you'll visit and think you know well, only to go back and discover that you've basically never been there.

Want to start a PAC?

Given my concern for (and discontent with) the current social and political conditions of this country and the world, I've been giving some serious thought recently to starting a PAC (political action committee). And no, I'm not talking about the likes of moveon.org or Swift Boat Veterans for Truth. Those, in my opinion, do more to degrade the present situation because they are divisive and have a decidedly partisan edge.

If I were to go ahead with this idea, the group I'm proposing would be one that emphasizes unity, cooperation, and fairness. It would promote and lobby for the principles of compassion, justice, and good stewardship in shaping political, social, and economic policy. These are all characteristics that appear to be seriously lacking in popular culture at present, but characteristics I believe may one day play a meaningful role in America's political and social arena.

Yes, this is an extraordinarily vague and broad description of what I'm envisioning, and purposely so. If I'm talking about unity and cooperation, I can't make all the decisions myself, right? The only decisions already made about this PAC so far (and I've collaborated with others on this, too) are:

1) It will take decisive positions on issues, and say what public officials are doing right and wrong, but
2) It will be completely non-partisan, and no political candidates will be endorsed, because this will do nothing more than add fuel to the already out-of-control "liberal versus conservative, Democrat versus Republican" mentality that plagues America.

That's all I can say about it now. So, is anyone interested in being part of this? What should be the focus of the group? Environmental issues? Social and/or cultural issues? Economics? All input is invited, and anyone is welcome to be part of this.

At this point, it's just a thought.

An autumn weekend up north

Over the weekend I went with my parents up to their new summer property in central Wisconsin, just outside the scenic town of Wausau. It's on the southern edge of the great Northwoods, a vast expanse of dense forests, secluded lakes, lazy streams, and rushing rivers.

This is one of my favorite regions to visit if I simply want to escape reality for a bit and go somewhere completely serene. It's the type of place where you can drive on back roads through deep woods for miles and not encounter another car; where the sky is such an ink-like black at night that the stars stick out like sore thumbs; where a hike through a fragrant pine-and-birch forest will lead you to a calm lake with not a single boat or swimmer on it; and where the wind blowing through the trees is the loudest sound you can hear.

Pictured top left is the gentle, clear Plover River, adjacent to my parents' land. Meandering slowly through the woods for miles, it's perfect to float on in a raft (when the temperature breaks 35 degrees, which didn't happen this weekend, as evidenced by ice-covered ponds we saw). The bottom-center photo is of a needle-covered trail crossing next to our property and surrounded by giant pines. On the top right are waterfalls and rugged boulders at the Dells of the Eau Claire; about ten miles northwest of Wausau, it's a gorgeous but relatively undiscovered park where the Eau Claire River tumbles over giant rocky outcroppings.

Yes, this is the kind of place where you can forget about life's problems and relax around a campfire on a cold autumn night; where you'll thank the cashier at the local general store, who will respond with an enthusiastic, "Aww, you betcha!"

Fear, hope, spirituality, and politics

One of the most inspirational books I've read of late is the one I currently have, The Left Hand of God by Michael Lerner. It talks about the rise of the so-called "Religious Right" in American politics, resulting from the alliance of the Republican Party with the likes of Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, and James Dobson. Lerner's hypothesis on why this relationship has been so successful is basically two-fold: 1) Americans have a deep need for spiritual meaning in their lives, and the GOP, with its allegiance to the evangelical population, is currently the only political party that claims to address this need on any meaningful level; and 2) this group has built its power on the concept of fear, one of the best tools of manipulation.

Fear, Lerner argues, is one way to view the world, and fear is what dominates the American political, cultural, and spiritual arena right now. This ranges from specific objects of fear -- such as homosexuals or international terrorists -- to more vague objects, like "liberals" (an ambiguous, stereotypical term that refers to a group of people with no concrete set of characteristics, other than a few political beliefs they may or may not share.) The specificity of the object, of course, doesn't matter. All that matters is it's an entity that certain folks are convinced they should be afraid of and, consequently, repudiate.

The other worldview, Lerner says, is hope and compassion. It involves seeing other people not as objects to exploit for our own gain, but as unique and valuable beings who should be respected. It also involves viewing the world as a beautiful place rather than a scary one, and viewing God as a benevolent, compassionate being who loves and cares deeply for all humanity and, contrary to popular belief, is not out for vengeance or wrath.

Lerner acknowledges how idealistic this view may sound, but argues it is one that can become reality. He also asserts that American politics and spirituality can once again operate together to emphasize this view of hope and compassion. How that can be accomplished is the subject of his book. For those who have grown disillusioned with the current status of spiritual and political discourse in the United States, this book is highly recommended.

The Sultan of Spin

This past week, my friend Susan and I watched Thank You for Smoking, a satirical comedy starring Aaron Eckhart, Katie Holmes, and William H. Macy. The film featured Eckhart as Nick Naylor, the American tobacco industry's foremost spokesman whose job is to spin the health hazards of cigarette smoking into a benign and desirable activity. Holmes plays Heather Holloway, a news reporter whose sexual exploits with Naylor lead him to entrust the tricks of his trade to her -- a trust she consequently betrays. And William H. Macy is a self-righteous Vermont senator who tries to take on the public-relations guru for "Big Tobacco."

In the movie, Naylor also tries to serve as a role model to his 12-year-old son, no doubt grooming the kid for a similar career path when he's older. Naylor explains to his son: "That's the beauty of argument: If you argue correctly, you're never wrong."

Those words and the tactics of Nick Naylor resonate well with reality. His (mostly) successful efforts to depict the tobacco industry as a victim rather than a predator, and its opponents as self-serving hypocrites rather than public-health advocates, seem to remind the viewer of American politics in general. Certainly there's been a time or two in recent years when the ruling party or administration has questioned the motives of its opposition, painting them as elitist, self-interested aggressors, no?

In any case, Thank You for Smoking is a well-crafted, well-performed film that is hilarious at some points and slightly disturbing at others. Highly recommended.

The majesty of the fall

Autumn is a truly splendid time of the year. It comes after the oppressively hot and humid days of late summer have passed, but before the dark and drab months of winter take hold. The days boast the vibrancy of fall foliage, which in the Midwest is already beginning to make an appearance. Few visual experiences are quite as majestic as driving down a road through the woods at this time of year. The evenings are crisper, cooler, and clearer. A campfire under a star-lit sky beside a lake in the month of October is hard to beat.

Yes, indeed, kudos to autumn. Something about it makes us better able to forget everything that's wrong in this world and, if only for a moment, focus exclusively on what's right.