By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Sep 12, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
I love Asian restaurants, and I really like the taste of Fortune Cookies.
And, yes, I always read my fortune.
You never know. But lately my vision has declined and I am no longer able to make our my fortune on Fortune Cookies. I can make out a few key words and the beginning or ending clause —but no specifics. Just enough to get a general idea that it is basically good news for me (or something upbeat).
That can be reassuring –but only if you can be certain. My idea is that an especially big Fortune Cookie be created for people over 45. It’s more about the cookie for us. And instead of large print with a long quote, just have a large thumbs up or thumbs down.
That’s all we want at this age. Details aggravate and confuse us.
I don’t care If my fortune is about travel, finances, business, health, whatever. The only news I want from my Fortune Cookie is whether things are looking good for me or not.
By Lauren Mayer, on Tue Sep 11, 2012 at 2:00 PM ET
The possibility of someone showing up to vote under an assumed name had never occurred to me until this election season, when Republicans just happened to uncover the danger of fraudulent voting.
And how odd that it apparently only happens in swing states! And who cares that there isn’t any evidence of actual fraud so far? It surely COULD happen, so isn’t that worth the potential disenfranchisement of lots of already marginalized voters?
Oh, so a sizeable percentage of people don’t have photo IDs and they’re expensive and inconvenient to obtain – isn’t waiting in line at a DMV part of the joy of citizenship?
Thinking about fake identities inspired me to turn into a faux blues singer to address this issue . . . .
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Sep 11, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
This is my third Democratic convention but my first in a parking lot.
We made it to Charlotte but without tickets to the convention. My wife, Rebecca, put her name in two raffles the last two days (I didn’t ) and won convention tickets both nights. So I drop her off and stay in a parking lot. She’ll post some great pictures soon. Can’t wait!
Exciting! Waiting for president to speak….just several parking lots from the convention parking lot!
Hold on…I see some friends from KY delegation….
I am back now. Explained I was just staying in the parking lot tonight again—but that it still felt special and historic. More special and historic than any event I have experienced alone in a parking lot. I also asked them if there was an after party—and added I may go to it or at least park nearby.
It’s not bad. Oh wait! I think I see a husband from the Georgia delegation parked in the same lot with me. Ha. Can’t help thinking to myself that he looks like a total loser sitting alone in a parking lot now. Geez! Get a life pal.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Sep 10, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Why I am a Democrat.
Heading home from the Democratic National Convention I had a few minutes to kill and decided to type out why I think I’m a Democrat.
Part of it, of course, is inherited—in two senses. Your family’s politics, like your family’s business and religion, tend to have a long shelf life for future generations. It’s easier to go along than buck the family. There’s also a temperamental inheritance. Both major political parties, I believe, attract certain disposition types —characteristics that we largely inherit genetically. No, not a desire for lower taxes or building strong infrastructure—at least not directly. But an inclination to be trusting or skeptical; hopeful or protective. Or just not caring if one side of our jacket collar is flipped up.
Then there are the cultural and temporal factors that help determine our politics. More people who came of age in the 1930s became Democrats. More who came of age in the 1980s became Republicans.
But these are not the interesting or singular characteristics that cause a person like me, after all the more conventional factors are set aside, still to walk toward the democratic team when choosing sides. I think that’s a more deeply personal matter that we don’t take enough time honestly to understand.
Oh, and for the record, I don’t buy all this nonsense about Republicans and Democrats not being able to get along. If that were true, Republicans and Democrats would stop getting married to each other so frequently! Like married couples, we need each other. Each side has strengths and weaknesses and is better together than alone. But also like married couples, a little more understanding of each other (and a good counselor) can go a long way. I mean seriously, if Democrats could do a better job of “mirroring” what we believe we hear Republicans say; and if Republicans could do a better job using “I-statements,” we would be well on our way to a more functional polity. Or at least a fun weekend together. Which is why I am writing about why I am a Democrat. Like most people, it’s not really about ideology. I believe ideology is a byproduct of more core personal qualities and traits we possess. And it’s easier to accept differences if we understand these differences are more fundamental to who we are and impermeable— rather than merely malleable ideas that, like a fly, we seem merely to have randomly alighted on. And so with that intro, here goes.
For me, I am a Democrat because I am a “tinkerer”, a “wobbler,” and a “blender.” And on most days, these are positive traits, at least in my mind. And they are at my core.
Read the rest of… John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Why I Am a Democrat
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Sep 7, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
People who are where they are seem the happiest….
Another morning at Starbucks. Another observation about the human condition that seems to occur to me as I impatiently wait in line each morning.
As I walked in to Starbucks this morning, I passed a passel of high school students. One was wearing a Harvard t-shirt, thinking ahead to college applications, I thought.
As I passed there was an overpowering whiff of perfume from one of the other young ladies, trying to be a little older than she is. I thought to myself, they are a group of “Kids trying to be adults”
Inside I watched a 40-something gentlemen dressed in jeans and a t-shirt hanging out with a much younger man and, I suspected, trying to fit in and get the youthful man’s approval. And I thought to myself, grown-ups are often just “Adults trying to be kids.”
“Funny,” I thought to myself. One group is trying to be 10 years older; the other trying to be 10 years younger.
And as I walked out I noticed the older couple who always sit together in Starbucks every morning and read the news paper together, drink coffee, and talk.
I thought about them and asked myself, “How would you categorize them?”
I would say, “Happy.”
They are who they are, where they are. And seem to be enjoying it.
Q: I’m 28, a young JD/MBA, triple Ivy, considering a run for office in 5–7 years. Tell me exactly what I should be doing now. —K.S., New York City
First and foremost, please don’t ever use the term “triple Ivy” again. On behalf of everyone you will ever meet, thank you.
I’m torn on this one. On one hand, there are some tried-and-true things that will likely help you down the line. Join your local Democratic or Republican club. Attend fundraisers for local candidates—or even better, host them. Knock on doors and phone-bank for your party’s nominees. Those things aren’t foolproof, but if you do them cheerfully for a few cycles, you’re much more likely to earn the support of party insiders.
Though that can work, it wasn’t what I did, and I only advise it to certain types of people. Ultimately it can be just as effective to find a cause you care a lot about and immerse yourself in it. For me it was cofounding a charter school. For you it could be anything, as long as it’s something you’re passionate about. Learn all you can, meet the big guns in that policy space, and better your community in some tangible way. And then, should you decide to run, you’ll have a solid bloc of supporters around your signature issue. It won’t get you the party’s support, but it will brand you as a genuine citizen as committed to the community as to your own political advancement.
Ideally you can focus on the second approach, with just enough of the first to not be ostracized by your local party. But you’ll have to choose your mix. Given your three (!) degrees, my guess is that the first approach is more your style.
Q: I saw the documentary about you, and now I want to run for office. But I don’t like asking for money. What’s your advice? —Name withheld, via Twitter
Do one of the following: 1) Start a business and get rich so you can self-fund; 2) Marry a rich girl/guy (more options if you’re here in New York than in most states); 3) Befriend a billionaire who will instinctively know to fund an independent expenditure on your behalf without your asking; 4) Run for town council or another office with an electorate under 10,000 people; or 5) Ditch your political dreams.
Q: Do yard signs matter? —S.S., San Diego
In the movie Singles (1992), Bridget Fonda’s character asks her boyfriend (played by Matt Dillon), whose taste tends toward voluptuous women, if her breasts are too small. “Sometimes,” he replies.
And so it is with yard signs. In a presidential election they don’t matter. About 95 percent of the country has already made up its mind, and those who haven’t have ready access to nearly unlimited information about the two candidates.
In low-information down-ballot elections, especially primaries, signs matter, especially for little-known underdog candidates who are desperately trying to raise their visibility and to show the support of people who are well respected in their neighborhoods. Signs can also help candidates keep their supporters psychologically invested in the campaign.
Q: I have a friend in politics who’s headed to prison, and he wants to hire a prison consultant. The one he contacted wanted $7,500 up front. Is it worth it? —C.M., New York City
I’d do it for half that. Oh, and tell him not to eat the Snickers. That one’s free.
Read the rest of… Jeff Smith’s Political Advice Column: Do As I Say
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Sep 5, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Troop Rallying or Pluribus Unuming?
(A long winded spiel–so long and windy that you may just forget what you were mad about at half-time during the DNC and RNC conventions)
It’s political party convention time– it’s a party for the parties, so to speak–where partisan cheerleading becomes the order of the day. The goal of both the Democratic and Republican parties is to “rally the troops.” Both major political parties strive, as they should, to make the case most dramatically for their side to win in November. It’s a time honored tradition–and an important one. And hyperbole and histrionics are not only expected—they are featured front and center.
But with every rhetorical flourish, left or right, that hits it mark at the conventions, something else is jarred too. The opposite of rallying the troops, I suppose, is trying to find common ground in our already very divided nation. Political conventions are constructs that are a bit like Midnight Madness if you are a UK basketball fan. You leave such events not only feeling a stronger than ever allegiance to your team but stronger than ever animosity toward any team that threatens them.
If political conventions are successful, when they are over, those who identify with each party should feel stronger than ever about their party being right —and stronger than ever about the other party being wrong. We don’t put on war make up. But we do, say and wear some awfully silly things at these conventions. In more primitive cultures, they had these sorts of partisan conventions but they called them tribal war dances. Seriously. (See clip below.) Note that neither Clint Eastwood nor Betty White were given prominent roles in the pre-convention warrior dances. Our political pros today could learn a thing or two from these ancient tribal rituals. Stay on message; whip up feelings of righteousness to a fever pitch; and dance like the dickens. No need to use chairs as a dialectical prop by a tribal elder (republicans) or matriarchal elder (democrats). Ever. Just keep dancing.
Oh sure, we should have fun celebrating and rallying with our political brothers and sisters during our side’s convention. I certainly intend to! And hope my republican friends did so last week.
But I suspect it would be good to note, too, that “rallying the troops” theater, while good for cheerleading, isn’t terribly useful once the political parties’ parties are over. That’s important to remember –as it is to recall that we have many more brothers and sisters than just those sharing our political opinions. Our Founding Fathers certainly realized this and memorialized it in our new nation’s motto that they selected– a simple Latin phrase: E Pluribus Unum. I’m really glad a few weeks before our Constitution was signed we didn’t have competing conventions represented by the political factions of the day. We may not have a constitution. We may have instead had some funny stories about Benjamin Franklin getting his lights punched out by a lesser signer because of his acerbic speech a few weeks earlier. But we didn’t have political parties back then. In fact, the Founders warned against the dangers of divisive factionalism—or extreme troop rallying.
E Pluribus Unum means essentially that within our diverse differences we are committed to an unassailable unity. Not “My country, right or wrong” blind allegiance, but more like “our country no matter how right or wrong we believe ourselves or our political opponents to be.”
In many ways E Pluribus Unum is nearly the opposite of the raw partisan blood sport we see played out regularly today masquerading as serious debate . Is it the worst it’s ever been? Hardly. It’s easy to pull up some old allegations about Abe Lincoln looking like a baboon, or Thomas Jefferson being an heathen atheist. But it’s pretty bad. And it’s not the end game our Founding Fathers had in mind. I suspect our Founders wanted more of legacy for their efforts than Glenn Beck lecturing about left wing conspiracy theories or The Daily Kos flaming the Internet about right wing conspiracies. If this is the apex of 236 years of a great republic’s maturation, the Founders probably would have stayed home and played cribbage instead.
But we are better than our partisan extremes. A whole lot better. We are not at our best divided and petty. Granted, it’s difficult to be united and idealistic for very long when there are over 300 million of us. But we don’t have to be that way all the time. I’d settle for opinionated but respectful –and a little more curious. Maybe a little more open-minded about where we might find common ground rather than determined to more deeply draw the boundaries that divide us.
But last week in Tampa and this week in Charlotte, is not the landscape for such things. Our country’s simple yet complex motto won’t be on prominent display in either city. That’s not the point of political party conventions. Or tribal war dances.
But unity among diversity is what makes for a great nation. And I hope that as we inch toward—and then beyond—the November election we don’t forget the motto our Founders hoped we’d live up to. To be a more unified nation. A time when political warrior dances are replaced again by Dancing with the Stars.
Even if it means I have to cheer again for Tom Delay.
Like all adolescent girls, I went through a phase of being attracted to charming jerks, since anyone who actually treated me well must have had something wrong with him. And although most of us eventually outgrow that phase, it was hard not to be reminded of it lately as Paul Ryan emerged as a political heartthrob. Those steely eyes! That chiselled chin! Those archaic, reactionary views! This political bad boy may not be the pot-smoking, school-failing rebel of our teen years, but for those of us raised by liberal parents, what better way to rebel than to fall under the spell of a right-wing Republican? Besides, just like with the bad boys, usually we just want to look at him, not listen to his ideology. (There’s a reason why, for at least a few days, the #1 Google search was “Paul Ryan shirtless”. Hasn’t the runaway success of “50 Shades Of Gray” proven that women fantasize about a powerful, conservative man who will patronize us?)
Here’s my tribute to Mr. Ryan’s appeal (sung with my tongue firmly in my cheek):
I love Asian restaurants, and I really like the taste of Fortune Cookies.
