The Newell Post

As we enter Christmas Week 2019 I am growing nostalgic for some of my recent ways of celebrating Christmas. On this day, for example, the Winter Solstice, I would always post a YouTube of Jethro Tull performing “Ring Out Solstice Bells.” Then, the next day, Band Aid singing, “Do They Know It’s Christmas,” would replace it.

Sadly, I no longer possess the enthusiasm to share such sentiments on Facebook knowing how that platform has been used to divide us. I no longer participate on Facebook. Similarly, Twitter has put me off for similar reasons.

However, my initial reason for getting off Twitter had to do with something I posted regarding Trump and an associate and I asked, “How long will it be before he throws him under the bus.”

Whatever algorithm Twitter employs to identify bad or hate speech I was effectively banned for using such a metaphor. But, other posters can use words I would not use to grace my blog.

So, during this week that celebrates the Day That Forever Changed The World let us endeavor to make social media social once more.

I do miss Facebook. I miss connecting with family who are spread over thousands of miles, with friends who you had lost contact with but with whom you can get reacquainted. It truly was a social media.

But then hate and ill will visited the neighborhood.

Where have you gone, Mister Rogers!

As I type this I long for a touch of Christmas past. Like the Magi, I need to follow a star and leave the clouds behind me.

If I abandon my tradition of posting those favorite seasonal songs of mine, haven’t I acquiesced to those who would destroy social media for us?

So, that is what I will do. Ring Out Those Solstice Bells!

There are so many things that divide us. The sources of our divisions are often deep-seated and irreconcilable, and they are all not of recent origin. Many have been formed decades ago.

It seems fitting to start with one of our most spirited debates as it is at this time of Christmas when it usually arose in public discourse. I am referring, of course, to the Lionel v American Flyer controversy.

As a child in the ’50s growing up in the Bronx, you were either a devotee of American Flyer trains or Lionel. There was no quibbling allowed. You had to choose. You had to take a stand.

It was not enough to acknowledge the attributes of each, you had to point out the flaws of your opponent’s choice of model trains.

Santa brought my brother Michael a set of American Flyers before I was born. So it was that Newell flirtation with A. C. Gilbert’s trains began. When I was six years old, Santa brought me a beautiful American Flyer freight train despite my insistence on an even more beautiful Santa Fe passenger set by Lionel. That set was listed as costing $100 in Macy’s and my father insisted Santa was bringing a freight set. To this day, I remember “hearing” fake set, and of course, I rebelled and said  I wanted a real set.

Nevertheless, I did receive a beautiful freight set with a boxcar equipped with a walking brakeman.

Three years later, however, my father and mother picked me up at Blessed Sacrament, where I was a fourth-grader. This was unusual because my father rarely got home early enough to do so.

Something was up.

As I squeezed into the front seat next to my mother, my father directed me with a nod to take a look at the back seat. There I saw a big Lionel boxed set.

And so Michael and I become Lionel devotees ever since.

Another issue that tended to divide our nation of Leland Avenue had to do with Mickey Mantle.

Most Yankee fans chose Mickey as their favorite player. By this time, 1960 or so, the days of arguing for Willie, Mickey, or the Duke were long since over. Willie and Duke were now the topics of debate for Californians.

However, there were many fans who chose Roger Maris for the subject of their adoration.

Yankee fans loved them both, of course, so the debate never reached a fever pitch. But that source of partisan scorn was on the horizon.

In 1960 The American Football League was formed to challenge the National Football League for domination over the nation’s second national pastime. The New York entry in the new league was the New York Titans, and they played in the Polo Grounds.

As New York Giant fans, my brother Michael and I scoffed at the newcomers.

How can you possibly compete in New Yorke when your New York Football Giants possess such stars as Y.A. Tittle, Sam Huff, and Frank Gifford? You just couldn’t compete.

But then in the summer of 1965, Michael was working down in Wall Street when he came home one evening with startling and incomprehensible news.

Michael had purchased a season ticket for the Titans who had been re-named the New York Jets, and they were set to play in the brand new Shea Stadium, and they had a brash new star in the person of Alabama quarterback, Joe Willie Namath.

He wore white shoes…on the field!

Now, my friend Mike had been singing the praises of Joe Namath all summer long, so I wasn’t completely shocked by Michael’s pronouncement, but I still demanded an explanation.

Michael’s one-line response was sufficient to convince me of his wisdom, “We could never get tickets to the Giants.”

In a few weeks, Michael took me to a game and I go,t to see Joe Namath play for the first time. I never saw anyone throw a ball like Namath and, it was clear, I became a Jet fan in the first quarter of that first game I attended when Namath threw his first pass.

Of course, I was the recipient of scorn and contempt by all Giant fans who regularly congregated on Hoch’s Corner.

As with the Lionel v American Flyer debate, opponents wouldn’t let you say, “I’m a fan of both teams.” You had to choose.

When it came to Mickey Mantle, there was never any other choice you could make. I was always a Yankee fan and always a Mickey Mantle fan…to this day.

But I still have some fond feelings and memories about my American Flyer trains and my New York Football Giants’ heroes.

You may think I can’t love both.

You may demand that I absolutely should not see the wisdom in any other choice.

But, not everything is binary, and I get to choose what I like.

So should you.

More than forty years ago, when we had a Republican President who obstructed justice, there were members of the Republican Party who were die-hard Nixon supporters. Nevertheless, they convinced him to step down when impeachment was an eventual reality.

These Republicans stood up for their own party by telling their leader to step down.

Today’s Republicans would be unrecognizable to the likes of John Rhodes, Hugh Scott, and Barry Goldwater. They were no liberals in Republican pinstripe suits. They were hard-line Republicans that put Lindsay Graham and Mitt Romney to shame.

Now, I don’t expect anything more from this group of Republicans; we know what they are. They are willing to abandon ideals in order to keep the president happy, in order to keep his supporters happy, in order to get re-elected.

But, to claim that the Democrats have presented an incomplete case is obscene as their president, their ideal, their party leader, has ensured that no evidence is forthcoming from the White House. You would think that an innocent man would demand that the evidence be provided.

No exoneration for Trump.

And it is also funny to hear Republicans attack the FBI, which is responsible for Trump’s election in the first place.

Forget about knowing history; these guys think we don’t know what happened last week.

If we still remembered history, we would know the poignancy of the word infamy.

Those of us who are boomers cannot hear or read the word without thinking of FDR’s speech following the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941.

Nearly thirty-four years later I was sitting in the endzone of Shea Stadium for a game between the Jets and the Patriots.

Joe Namath would throw three touchdowns en route to a 36-7 rout of the Patriots but this is not what I remember of that day.

During halftime, all those in attendance were asked to stand in honor of the Emperor of Japan, Hirohito and to give a rousing Jet welcome. I’m not sure if we were asked to give a rousing Jet welcome or not but we did clap and cheer somewhat.

Hirohito was Emperor of Japan during World War II and of course on December 7, 1941.

At the time I was in the middle of my graduate degree in American History and I could not help but think at the time that there were probably a few people in the stands who had fought in World War II or lost loved ones during the war, perhaps even in the Pacific Theater of Operations.

Nevertheless, we cheered out of respect for an ally.

How far we had come in our forgiveness and understanding of a man who had once been our enemy.

It was a fascinating lesson in global politics and something I have always remembered. It is something we should never lose sight of when we determine any nation is our enemy.

The Thanksgiving-Christmas Holidays often inspire thoughts of loved ones who have left us.

You miss these people every day, but the holidays seem to bring memories to vivid life.

Yesterday, as my wife Eileen and I were getting the last preparations prepared for our Thanksgiving guests I started thinking of my mother and father,

Not unusual.

What was unusual I started a David Letterman’s Top Ten List comprised of my favorite things about my parents during the holidays. So, here they are:

Number 10: The look in my father’s eye as he brought the turkey to the table.

Number 9:  My mother’s stuffing.

Number 8: My mother’s mince pie.

Number 7: My father giving me my Lionel Santa Fe locomotive a week before Christmas.

Number 6: My mother’s exquisitely cooked turkey.

Number 5: My father’s turkey sandwiches a few hours after dinner.

Number 4: My father posing with a lampshade on his head,d mimicking a chef.

Number 3: My mother bouncing around the apartment to Bing Crosby’s Christmas In       Killarney.

Number 2: My mother’s plum pudding.

Number 1: The sound of their voices and the love in their hearts.

God bless you if you are fortunate to have such favorite things.

Hopefully, the retailers of America took in the billions they so desperately need to transform their ledgers from red to black.

It is good for America to have a booming holiday gift-buying economy. Where the American motto once declared, “What’s Good For General Motors Is Good For America”, today it reads, “What’s Good For Walmart and Target Is Good For America.”

Well, really, China.

Nevertheless, Christmas shopping makes the American world go round.

Hours after our annual day of feasting, the American appetite turns its eyes on iPhones and iPads and PlayStations. Hopefully, a few Lionel Trains will be sold.

Yet, I cannot help thinking about the forgotten people whose shopping doesn’t even take place in the commonest of bargain basements. For there are nearly 600,000 Americans, who can not shop, nor do they have a place to call home.

Our infrastructure needs mending. Our healthcare system has its flaws. But nowhere are the greatest of inequities of American life revealed than in the dire lives of those living on our streets and alleys. In all the misery that Dickens could depict about nineteenth-century England, 582,000 souls walk amongst us with nowhere to go and no one to offer solace.

These people probably did get fed yesterday but not in their home, nor was it a meal they prepared for themselves.

It just doesn’t seem right that a country as wealthy as ours has so many living in such desperation.

It’s a thought that doesn’t get you into the jolliest of holiday spirits. But it’s a thought we should have every day.

I wrote the following for Thanksgiving 2019. Reading it again made me laugh and cry just thinking about what a simple time it was just one year ago.

Well, here we are again soon to be assembled round a turkey with all the fixins.

I am assuming this will be my seventieth Thanksgiving celebration, but I am guessing that not too much turkey was consumed in my earlier commemorations. Commenting that I soon made up for that is not a kind thought to have as we enter the holiday season.

I had a bit more turkey angst this morning than I have had in some time, or ever had. My wife, Eileen, called our local Publix supermarket to order a fresh-killed turkey. She made this call this past Friday and was advised to have it picked up on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving.

This in itself was reason enough for me to break out into a cold sweat if such a thing can actually occur in Florida. I mean, waiting until the day before Thanksgiving to get your turkey was something our parents would never have permitted. So, this morning, I called the supermarket to see if our turkey was available for pickup.

After waiting a few minutes, I was advised that no such turkey was being held in our name. Okay, not to worry as we had several Publix in our immediate area, so I made some calls.

Each call added to my sense of dread.

No fresh turkey in my name. A frozen turkey would not do as there is no way it would thaw in time for Thursday’s dinner. I began to ponder a Chinese food dinner. Chicken Chow Mein? Well, it did have poultry in it. General Tsao’s Chicken? Again, poultry but not really something the Pilgrims would have had feasted on.

Frantically, I set out on a mission to find a turkey fit to be roasted on Thanksgiving Day.

I need not have worried as they were in abundant supply…at Publix.

I guess I should have asked if they had any available when I was told I had none on reserve. But of course, Publix could have informed me of that fact too, but I have a turkey, and that’s all that matters.

It wasn’t so much worrying about having to face Thanksgiving turkeyless, it was what the turkey always represents in my mind.

The turkey was always cooked by my mother, carved by my father, and devoured by my siblings and in-laws.

Somehow eating turkey on Thanksgiving and Christmas is like having it with my family. It has always been like that and will remain so. It is even like that with our children and other relatives who will be having their own meal in distant locations. Yet, no matter how far geographically apart we may be, we will be together.

It’s just that it would be so nice if for only one day to have everyone that we will be missing sitting alongside us as we pile on the yams and the stuffing and drizzle gravy over the turkey.

So, here is to all our dear friends and family, Happy Thanksgiving!

The Christmas Season has begun in earnest. We went to the mall today, and, despite the temperature, a distinct hint of Christmas was in the air.

There were stacks of firewood ready for you to put in your fireplace, presuming they didn’t spontaneously combust before you got to the checkout counter. There were Santas and Rudolphs and a myriad of wintry scenes to display on your living room wall or poolside in your lanai.

Candles of every size and scent were also ripe for the picking, as were Florida’s finest hot chocolates.

To northerners, Christmas shopping in Florida while the temperature has cooled down to 77 may at first seem a little strange but, you soon realize that Floridians love their Christmas season as much as any New England town or village.

Lights galore are strewn on the palm trees. And, while Black Friday is still two weeks away, shoppers were everywhere to be seen, and the only thing getting hot were debit and credit cards and salespeople stuffing stocking stuffers into the bags of Saturday morning shoppers.

I don’t recall hearing Christmas music being piped in, but maybe I was too overwhelmed with the sights and smells of another Christmas season in the Sunshine State.

It is only November 9th, but the early signs indicate that shoppers will continue to shop and stores both the brick and mortar variety and on-line will have a happy season. While our temperatures may face a downturn, it appears that shoppers intend to ward off any potential downturn of the economy.

In 1890, Jacob Riis published “How The Other Half Lives: How It Lives And Dies In New York”. The book documented with pictures and accounts of the poor in New York City. In 1962 Michael Harrington published “The Other America” and documented poverty in America and was said to be highly regarded by President John Kennedy and may have directly affected President Lyndon Johnson’s War On Poverty.

In both examples, the plight of the poor was brought to the attention of an America busy with emerging, an America becoming a world industrial leader and a military power.

It is the concept of “The Other” that intrigues me.

Whether The Other is people of other cultures, other nations, other religions, or closer to home, other political viewpoints, it would be wise to consider The Other.

I am a Democrat and voted for Hillary Clinton.

Like most Democrats, there were things I disagreed with Candidate Clinton and even one or two things I agreed with President Trump. The trouble is that at no time during the election process or since have I considered how other people thought about the candidates.

I know most of the reasons why Democrats favored Clinton over Trump, and I think I know why some Trump supporters voted for Trump. But I think it is too convenient to state that many voted for Trump because they didn’t like Hillary.

It’s also too easy to believe that people who voted for Trump are “Deplorable” or racists or Russian sympathizers.

We all know about pendulums and how they react to energy. If too much energy is applied in one direction, the natural reaction is to swing back, almost as forcefully in the other direction.

Democrats are seen as the Party of the partial-birth abortion, gay marriage, and rights for the LBGTQ community. You may agree with some of these positions or none.

Add Affirmative Action and Immigration Rights, and you further divide people.

But why?

One of the things that I have seen several times infuriates me and illuminates me at the same time. There is a Democratic operative who has appeared on MSNBC several times, and I always change the channel when he is on. I will not grant him the notoriety of my disdain by naming him.

He made a commercial, I would hardly call it a public service announcement, in which he proudly affirms that he is an atheist and he does so by denigrating all people of faith.

Another indication that Democrats are stupid and intent on losing the 2020 election.

You may disagree with the evangelicals who support Trump despite the porn star and countless examples of misogyny as well as his anti-Christian comments regarding immigrants. But do so by pointing towards their hypocrisy, not their belief in God.

We know why evangelicals support Trump. They are a one-issue group. Protect the unborn, and they will vote for you. Appoint conservative justices who are likely to repeal Roe v. Wade, and they will forgive all other transgressions.

Then you attack not only the Evangelicals but all those of us who believe in God, and you want my vote? Not a good strategy.

You cannot be a party of inclusion only for atheists.  Believers are members of the immigrant, Gay, and LBGTQ communities. Believers are not all Republicans.

As our atheist spokesman proclaims at the end of his commercial that he will not burn in hell, he might also add that he will not see the inside of the White House either.

I went to a Spring Training game two years ago and sat at a table with a Red Sox fan. We had a nice talk despite our different passions. We were, in fact, able to reach some common ground as, despite living in a suburb of Boston, my new friend was, like me, a fan of the New York Jets.

Common ground should be something we consider, especially when our differences run hot.

I can see why Republicans are scared. Our country is changing. Its population is expanding beyond anything we imagined thirty years ago. Many newcomers come from different countries and cultures than the previous waves of immigrants. If we had any historical knowledge to draw on, we would be comforted that the same concerns many have today were held by Americans when our ancestors stepped off the boat.

Whether from Ireland, Italy, Eastern Europe, or the Far East, Americans of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries were afraid of these new immigrants. Ironically, these new immigrants defended America and The Constitution by fighting in both World Wars.

Then you had the sons and daughters of former slaves fighting for their civil rights, and many thought America was coming to an end, but that didn’t happen.

Yet, there are those stuck in moments that seem incapable of being put to rest.

Racism, antisemitism, cultural bias continue to haunt us, but why?

Is it the color of people? Is it the way they worship God? Is it the holidays they celebrate? What is it that people don’t like about the new groups coming to our country and how can we help them get over it?

I used a sports analogy to illustrate the seeming idiocy of being anti-whatever. But there have been extreme examples of violence because a fan dared to wear another teams’s colors to a game. People have been killed for having the audacity to wear the wrong jersey.

It’s not enough to root for your team, you have to hate The Other.

If the Trump administration has done anything, it has illustrated that the political tribalism that has existed since George H Bush was President will destroy America.

E Pluribus Unum used to mean something. Our national motto used to illustrate our strength. Now it may well be our demise.

We need to talk to The Other.

They need to know that we are very much like them and they are very much like us,

Just ask them.