Author: Dave

 

 

I was going to write about the debate, but before I could there was other stuff to address.  And then another thing.  And another.  And, in truth I’m sick of Donald Trump.  And you are too.  In fact, even if you like Donald Trump, you have had enough.  So it is time for a cigar.

It was a beautiful fall day and Sally and I decided to take a walk in the park.  I felt that the day warranted a special cigar and I opened a new box from my office humidor, the AJ Fernandez New World.

What an attractive cigar.  Even Sally noticed the seven inch, dark brown, box-pressed beauty.  We talked about the difference between my cigars and her cigarettes during our walk.

The most important thing, of course, is the taste.  But smoking a cigar is an experience.  It begins with the visual.  The appearance, the shape, size, and wrapper, the tobacco that you see on the outside, is one of personal preference.  The size and shape also impact how the cigar feels in your hand and in your mouth.  Most of my cigars, like this one, are between 6” and 7” long and have a ring size, circumference, of 50 – 54.  I have friends who prefer cigars that look to be about the size of cigarettes and others who prefer “Gordos” with a 60 ring.  Inside that wrapper are a blend of tobaccos that produce the flavor profile.  And the construction of the cigar is what creates a beautiful grey ash, a smooth draw, and an even burn.  The nicotine fix should be the least important part of enjoying a cigar.

You won’t see someone furtively smoking a cigar outside of an office building in sub-zero weather.

This particular cigar was crafted in Estelí, Nicaragua.  AJ Fernandez is a well-known major cigar producer.  The New World is a complex blend that produced a unique flavor.  Connoisseurs will tell you that they find notes of certain fruits, etc. when they take a sip of wine.  Cigar experts will say the same.  I can’t tell you that I tasted nuts or cocoa, but darn it was a good a cigar.

The walk, all three miles of it, were incredibly peaceful.  The only interruptions were the occasional bike riders and joggers.  I had an hour with Sally, nature, and an incredible cigar.  And no Trump.  I Know.  You’re jealous.

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Picture – Fall In Cleveland – David L Cunix

Today was the second day of Rosh Hashanah.  We, of course, had services yesterday and today.  Now before you get started, our services were held outside under a giant tent, the seating reflected the accepted recommendations for social distancing, and everyone wore a mask.  In fact, most of the Russian guys even wore their masks correctly.  I would say nes gadol haya sham, a great miracle happened there, but that would be a different holiday.

Outside.  The entire service was the same, yet different.  The Rabbi rose to blow the Shofar, an ancient instrument made of a ram’s horn.  The rabbi was born in Russia.  Next to me, as always, was my friend Danny who had been born in Iran.  Around me were men who were born in South Africa, Russia, and exotic Steubenville.  As the Shofar was sounded we were connected to our parents, grandparents, and generations going back thousands of years.  And we were connected to generations yet to come.

L’Shanah Tova Tikatev V’taihatem, may you and yours be inscribed and sealed [in the Book of Life] for a good and sweet new year.  May this be a year when we remember to honor our connections to both our past and our future.

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Picture – A Sweet Year – David L Cunix

 

My mother, Gerna Cunix, passed away on August 25, 2020.   One of my friends, a guy who is still mourning the loss of his mother, told me that I was now a fellow orphan.   Orphan.  The term seemed odd to my 65 year old ears.  And then I remembered my mother, at the time in her mid-thirties, learning of the death of her mother and screaming, “I am now an orphan!”

My friend was very close to his mother, far closer than I was with mine or my mother was with hers.  The relationship with one’s last surviving parent seems to be only one of the factors involved in the loss felt by his or her death.  In talking with clients I have found some people are forced to address their own mortality while others find it disconcerting to suddenly be the oldest living members of their family.  Death is the great equalizer.  It awaits all of us.  The death of a parent is the reminder we can’t ignore.

I have frequently thought about my mother this summer as I’ve watched our country suffer through so many areas of conflict and failure.  We watched the news together most evenings when I was a child.  And I also remember that my parents and I agreed on very little during my teenage years.  My mother’s final dig would be that it was possible to love someone, but not like him.  Though initially surprised, I quickly embraced this concept.  I found it oddly liberating.  It made complete sense to me this idea that one could separate the emotional depth of Love from the intellectual assessment of Like.

So yes, you can Love our country but not particularly like it.  It is hard to like a country that does nothing to prevent gunmen from attacking schools and places of worship.  It is hard to like a country that experiences the 8+ minutes of the death of a fellow citizen by an officer of the law smugly looking into the camera.  It is hard to watch the dismantling of our public systems by those seeking personal enrichment.  It is hard to like a country still plagued by systemic racism. And yet, we can all still love our country, its unfulfilled promise, the concept of equality, and its potential.

We are quickly approaching our next election.  There are forces that would like you to sit this one out.  There are people who want you to believe that all public servants are just politicians out to serve their narrow personal interests.  And there are those who would want you to believe governments can’t get anything done and can’t help solve our problems.  But we know better.  Our vote is one of our most precious possessions.  Don’t throw it away.  Casting your vote is your responsibility.  Understanding that there are good people in the police department, the fire department, pushing paper at your local city hall, watching out for all taxpayers at the IRS, and serving overseas in our armed forces acknowledges the basic humanity of our fellow citizens that may be constrained by systems that don’t support their values.  Some of our government workers could make more money in private enterprise but have chosen public service.  We have an opportunity to respect all of these positions, not just the ones that are fashionable or politically advantageous.  And so we must vote this year as if democracy, itself, is on the ballot.

We cannot let Uncle Sam die.  We cannot create that many orphans.

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Picture – An Empty Seat At The Table – David L Cunix

 

The Roll Call of the States is my favorite part of our political conventions.  It is a national stage.  One by one each state is called and someone, often someone who has not spent a lot of time in front of a TV camera, surrounded by a cheering delegation, puffs out his/her chest and announces, “My state, G-d’s gift to mankind, proudly casts its 75 votes for the next president of the United States, _______.”  It’s fun.  It is just good TV.

Tuesday night could have been a disappointment.  No huge crowd.  No sweaty delegates in gaudy hats and five campaign buttons too many.  As I waited for it to begin I thought of the 1992 Democratic Convention.  I was on a honeymoon.  We were staying in a lovely lakeside resort in the middle of New Hampshire.  And yes, I was sitting on the edge of the bed tabulating the votes on my legal pad.  It was exciting watching Bill Clinton win.

The states are called in alphabetical order.  Alabama is always first.  The home state of the nominee passes so that it can cast the final or decisive votes.  Alabama was called and we were suddenly transported to the Edmund Pettus Bridge!  Representative Terri Sewell (D-Al) gave her state’s eight votes for Bernie Sanders and 52 votes for Joe Biden.  She also said:

“John Lewis marched across this bridge in 1965 to demand the right to vote. A lifetime later, civil rights and voting rights remain America’s great unfinished business. But those who walked this path before us showed us the way forward. If we want to honor John Lewis’s incredible life, let’s restore the Voting Rights Act and ensure our democracy belongs to all Americans.”

I turned to Sally and I said, “We are going to be OK.”  The states and territories were called.  We saw beautiful vistas, turquoise, and flowered shirts.  And even people who don’t like seafood were tempted by Rhode Island’s calamari.  This was the best roll call, ever.  Even if we are allowed to return to on-site conventions, the virtual roll calls must become a permanent fixture of the nominating process.

Some of my readers might think that this is a Democratic thing.  It is not.  The 1992 Republican Convention, which featured a sitting president fending off a challenge from his right flank, had lots of drama.  Conventions tell us what the candidates and the party think is important and how they view the country.  It is also a chance to see the rising stars.

The 1988 Democratic Convention featured an overly long, self-indulgent speech from a governor of a small state.  The people in the hall couldn’t wait for him to finish.  Many of us at home knew that we were meeting the next star of the party, a guy named Bill Clinton.  And that State Senator from Illinois who spoke at the 2004 Democratic Convention seemed to have succeeded pretty well.  Keep your eyes open.  We may see a future president this week or next.

This is not a zero sum game.  You can enjoy this week’s Democratic Party Convention and next week’s Republican Party Convention.  Our conventions are a part of our process, the way a free people nominate and elect our leadership.  Celebrate our process, all of our process.  Don’t shortcut.  Don’t skip any part of it.  It is all important.  It is our obligation to participate in every step.  Vote.  Vote like our country depends on it.  Vote because it is the most important way to maintain our way of life.

And save me some of that calamari.

Dave

www.againreally.com

Picture – Old School – David L Cunix

 

 

Mitch McConnell would make a lousy life guard.  He won’t stay on duty.  He doesn’t seem to care about all of those people drowning, calling out for help.  The last time anyone saw Mitch he was on his way home for another summer vacation even though he was supposed to be on duty.

Nearly 30 million Americans would tell you that a lifesaver was the $600 per week federal unemployment benefit that ended this past Saturday.  One day they were working and then, suddenly four months ago, they weren’t.  They were cooks, dental assistants, retail salespeople, and bartenders.  They ARE our neighbors.  They worked in our schools and our offices.  And now they don’t.

Many states were totally unprepared for the deluge of unemployment claims.  Some have yet to get caught up.  Unemployment doesn’t pay the bills, even in a state like Ohio.  And it is taxable.  One of my clients shared with me the details of her benefits.  She made $19,200 in 2019.  Her Ohio unemployment benefit is $172 per week before federal taxes, $155 net.  That doesn’t nearly cover food, shelter, health insurance, and the rest of her bills.  She is not alone.

The House of Representative passed the HEROES ACT, the bill to extend relief, on May 15^th.   Mitch McConnell and the Senate didn’t begin to craft a response till the last week of July.  The Trump White House, hoping for miraculous cures to both COVID 19 and the economic woes, never bothered to prepare for the August 1^st deadline.  There were no cures.

A large part of the problem is that the Trump’s point men on this issue are Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin and former-Congressman now White House Chief of Staff Mark Meadows.  As reported earlier today on CNBC:

“There’s no question, in certain cases where we’re paying people more to stay home than to work, that’s created issues in the entire economy,” Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin said in an interview Sunday on ABC’s “This Week”.

Where are these jobs?  Restaurants and bars are closing early, if they even opened, due to the pandemic.  And retail, one of the largest employers in this country, is in dire straits.  In the last two months we’ve seen the reports of major retailers going belly up.   Signet Jewelers, LTD., will be closing another 400 stores.  Some of those stores, Kay Jewelers, Zales, and Jared, never reopened after the national shut-down.  Others will be closing soon.  There will be little justice for the employees of the retail clothier, Justice, which announced two weeks ago that all 600 + stores would be closed.  The Justice employees will join the soon to be unemployed from New York & Company.  This economy cannot absorb all of these people.  These individuals have talents, but what business is looking to grow in the middle of this mess.

I wanted to see for myself the status of our retail environment.  Properly masked I visited Great Lakes Mall, Beachwood Place, and Aurora Farms Premium Outlets to survey the damage.  To be honest, I was shocked.

There were plenty of vacant spaces in all three retail locations.  Big names, like Brooks Brothers, were no longer at Aurora Farms.  All of the kitchen and cooking related stores were gone.  I saw parents schlepping their children to shop for back to school clothing and shoes.  There were a lot of families at the outlet mall, but not a lot of bags.

Great Lakes and Beachwood were far more depressing.   Beachwood had one bright spot.  Carter’s, a children’s store, recently opened.  It is next to the Microsoft store that has never reopened.  Beachwood has another issue.  Reduced Hours.  The mall hours used to be 10 AM to 9 PM.  The official hours are now 11 AM to 7 PM.  It takes less employees to keep those stores open.  Less people employed.  I saw a number of stores open only noon to 5 or noon to 6.  One of the jewelry stores is even closed two days a week.  That store once employed six people.  Now there are only two.  These are our unemployed.

The moratorium on foreclosures and evictions has ended.  The additional $600 federal unemployment relief is gone.  And so is Mitch.  The negotiations are between the administration in the form of Mnuchin and Meadows and the Democratic leadership, Pelosi and Schumer.  McConnell and Trump said that this wasn’t needed when the House passed the HEROES ACT in May, calling it dead on arrival.     Now Trump has a couple of underlings working on it while Mitch is on vacation.  Will the bill get done?  Sure, eventually, but some people have to drown first.  But that is bound to happen you don’t have a very good lifeguard.

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Pictures – Signs Of The Times – David L Cunix

 

There are heavily armed men invading Portland.  Cleveland and other cities may be next.  What is the proper name for these irregulars?  What should we call them?

• Trump’s Paramilitary Goon Squad
• Camo-shirted Stormtroopers
• The universally understood – Mercenaries

The first attack took place in Lafayette Park outside of the White House.  Pictures revealed that the uniformed shock troops, which did not have any visible names, are from a number of federal agencies.  Some of those agencies that make up the Protecting American Communities Task Force (PACT) utilize private contractors.  Part of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) is the Federal Protection Service which relies on private contractors.  Those are not policemen.  They are not National Guard.  They are not military.  They are not trained to interact with peaceful or even non-peaceful protestors.  At best some of them are qualified to quell a prison uprising.  The citizens of Portland, Chicago, or even Cleveland are not rioting maximum security prisoners.

Ted Wheeler, the mayor of Portland, has asked for them to go.  Governor Kate Brown has asked for them to go.  But this invading force isn’t going anywhere.

There is a fear of the “Other” that is being stoked by certain people in this country to our collective harm. Is this your view of right and wrong?   Felipe Nystrom is an international cycling champion, court translator in the city of Portland, and a naturalized US citizen.  He was accosted last week outside of the county courthouse.  Below is his description of the encounter is his own words:

I had to sit on this for a couple of days because of how pissed off I was but here’s my rant. I am and always will be a Costarrican who happens to be a US citizen. I love my country and will always be a respectful guest in this one. However I will not stand for racism whether it is obvious or the person just doesn’t realize it.

Last Friday morning I went to the Multnomah County Court House for work. When I got there about 830 AM I saw a sign on the door that diaf it was court furlough day and that it was closed. So while standing on the sidewalk I called my agency to see what was going on since it was strange that I’d been given a grand jury appointment yo interpret for on a day the court was closed. While the phone was ringing I heard a firm, almost angry, voice from behind me say

“Put the phone down”

I ignored it since it couldn’t possibly have been directed at me since I wasn’t doing anything. Almost immediately a second voice in an even firmer voice said

“WE SAID PUT THE PHONE DOWN. NOW!!!”

At this point I turned around and saw to armed men standing very close to me. Then the first guy said again “Put. The. Phone. Down…Now”

So with confused look on my face I started to put my phone in my pocket and immediately one of them said

“Keep your hands where i can see them!” As he reached his hand closer to his gun.

I thought for a moment I was being pranked so I said

“Well guys make up your minds. You want my phone down or my hands up?”

To which one of them replied “Don’t get fucking cute with us”

Next that same guy asked for my name and I gave it to him. He asked where I lived and provided my address.

I at this point aksed who they were and what this was about. The reply was

“You don’t fucking ask questions. We ask the questions. You answer them. Got it?!”

While he was saying this the other guy was on his radio.

The next question was “Where are you from?”

I answered ” I live in Portland”

As this was happening, two more of these guys showed up so now there were 4 armed men surrounding me.

I have dealt with racist comments many times since I move to PDX and can very quickly notice when somebody is doing it. That question “where are you from” only happens in 2 forms. One of genuine interests to learn something about someone and the other way. To get me to say that i am from another country.

Next one of the recently arrived guys asked again “Where are you from?”

Again I said Portland.

“No no no! I asked where are you from?”

“Where???”

“Portland” I said again.

“This is my address..” and provided it again.

This all only took a matter of minutes but they kept getting closer and closer to me.

“Let’s see some ID”

I never carry my wallet with me. I think wallets are bulky and by not keeping cash or my card on me I save millions by not buying teas and cookies all day so i keep it in my car. Usually my work badge is good enough for anything I need to do at work. We were literally 5 ft from my car and I explained as much and that of we could just go to my car i could show them.

“It’s in my car. My car is right here”

To which they reply…

“So you’re saying you don’t have ID”

“It’s in my car, which is right there”

Another call on the radio and within seconds a pick up pulls up and 2 more of these guys get out. Now there are 6 armed men surrounding me. Every second that passes they keep creeping closer and closer.

“I am going to ask you one more time, where are you from?”

“I live in Portland. “

It is my belief that in that moment they were going to take me into custody as an illegal immigrant. But by sheer luck a deputy district attorney who i had interprered for earlier in the week for a dofferenr grand jury, happened to be coming into work and as he walked by

sar me and asked if I was ok.

One of these men immediately turned to him and said

“This is official business move along right now… keep walking.”

The DDA replied “hang on. I’m a DDA. What’s going on here?”

As soon as he said “DDA” I saw an immediate change in all six of their faces. They looked at eachother so as to ask with their eyes, what they were going to do. At this point one of them said let’s see your ID and two of them walked me to my car. I showed it to them. One of them took a picture of it with his phone. He gave it back and just like that they left.

If there could be any doubt that racism alive and well in this country currently fueled by the president this is yet another example of it.

I want to leave this picture here because for those of us that are not white there is a ver real possibility that when we leave home we may very well not come back and this way there’s a nice picture for the record.

For doing nothing more than going to work while being a US citizen but brown I was very close to being taken and the worst part is that I have no idea by who or where I would have been taken. That is the fear that I get to live with for no other reason than BREATHING WHILE BROWN IN THE USA. 

Are you next?  Are you white enough?  Could someone mistake you as being “Other”?  Don’t be so sure.  Is this martial law?  Where will you be safe once the invading force arrives?

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Picture – Playing With A Pretend Army – David L Cunix

Quick Note – Mr. Nystrom was obviously shaken by the experience.  I see no reason to correct his grammar or spelling.  I wonder if any of us could do any better under the circumstances.

 

 

A different Parshah or Chapter of the Torah (Five Books of Moses) is read each week in synagogue.  It is a time-honored tradition for scholars to look at a Parshah and find a particular point to highlight.  This is called a D’var Torah.  What lesson can we learn and apply today from a book that is thousands of years old?  Different scholars would/could find different lessons.  And then others who might not be scholars, such as you and I, have the opportunity to read both the Chapter and the work of the learned to craft our own opinions and analysis.  All of these questions and studies are good and encouraged.  The Torah will withstand scrutiny.  We grow from the exercise.

A young Rabbi wrote a brilliant D’var Torah about this week’s Parshah Matot-Masei (Numbers 30:2 – 36:13).  I am purposely omitting the Rabbi’s name because he would be distressed if he thought anyone would perceive him to be political or choosing sides.  And though I don’t want today’s post to be viewed through a partisan lens, that may not be possible in today’s environment.

The young Rabbi noted that this week’s Chapter discussed, in part, the preparation of the Jewish people to conquer and then divide the Promised Land.  Two of the tribes asked to have their portions on the east bank of the Jordan instead of west of the river.  These two tribes, Reuben and Gad, had lots of livestock and viewed the land suitable.  The Bible says that they requested this land “Pens for the flock we shall build here for our livestock, and cities for our small children.”

“Immediately, Moses chastises them and corrects their mistake”, wrote my friend.  He cited Moses response, “Build for yourself cities for your small children and pens for your flock”.  The lesson to be learned was (and is!) to put the children ahead of the animals and possessions.

The Rabbi’s lesson went on to explore the workaholic who is a business success but a failure as a parent and spouse.  And though that is valid and important, my mind flew in a different direction.  I thought about the current debate about the opening of our schools.

Should we reopen our schools to in-person instruction?  Don’t just tell me Yes or No.  Tell me WHY.  I believe that we all agree that children need both the education and socialization of the school environment.  But are we moving to open the schools now for the benefit of the children or to help the economy?  If it is for the children, what is your plan to make schools safe for the children and all of the adults in the school community?  If it is for the economy, how do you propose to balance the risks vs. the reward?

There is no national plan for the schools.  There are no guidelines and no financing to retrofit the buildings.  We are no more organized or prepared now than we were when the schools closed four months ago.  We have politicians demanding that the children are returned to the buildings.  Many of these same politicians have been diverting the public’s money to for profit online schools that specialized in remote learning.  It is reasonable to be skeptical of their motives.

Thousands of years ago we learned how easy it was to confuse our priorities, to forget that our children are more important than our possessions.  It is a lesson that we need to learn, as a country, today.

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Picture – They Will Return – David L Cunix

Sheila Buck wanted to attend the Trump rally in Tulsa.  She had a ticket.  The venue was less than half full.  There was plenty of room for Sheila Buck and 1000 of her closest friends.  Actually, according to the Fire Marshall, 10,000.  But Sheila was alone as she cleared the security checkpoint this past Saturday.  At some point, whether overcome by her need to attract attention or the spirit of her G-d, she unveiled her “I can’t breathe” shirt, fell to her knees, and began to pray.  Offended by the shirt and unsure which god she was evoking, the Trump campaign had the Tulsa police forcibly remove her from the venue.  It was a win for everyone involved.  Ms. Buck made the national news.  The Trump campaign got to have a protestor roughed up, but not too much.  And Trump wasn’t forced to hear a disparaging word.  Everyone won but the rest of the country.   We didn’t get anything positive out of any of this ongoing show and embarrassment.

I am reminded of a different rally, one that took place 28 years ago in Cleveland.  I was helping with security the day before the presidential election.   Bill Clinton was going to stop at airports across the country.  The crowd was huge and in good spirits. The future president was late.  The campaign theme song, Fleetwood Mac’s Don’t Stop, was on a loop for several hours.  We knew history was about to be made.

The Bush campaign had held a rally in Strongsville a few days earlier.  Strongsville High School students were taken to the rally on public school buses to the event.  Kids were stopped at the entrance and forced to remove Clinton campaign buttons.   It made the news and resulted in a lawsuit.  And, it was silly.   We were aware of that debacle as we waited for Mr. Clinton’s plane.  One group of young men got my attention.  They stayed together closer to the back of the crowd.  They had on heavier coats than most of us.  As the plane taxied to our area, I got a group of equally big guys to come with me.  The event started and our friends threw open their coats, revealed their Bush shirts and signs, and were surprised that the guys now standing right in front of them had bigger Clinton signs and made them invisible.  No fuss.  No fight. They put down their signs and walked away.

Did the Trump campaign need the Tulsa police and the Oklahoma National Guard to hold a rally?  Probably not.  There will always be dissenters at political events just like there are always hecklers at a comedy club.  The pros know how to handle the moment.

My post-election wrap up in 1992 included a paragraph about the Clinton rally:

Burke Lakefront Airport was the scene of Governor Clinton’s last campaign stop in Ohio. I took Phillip, Jennifer, and my new step-daughter Andrea to not only hear the candidates, but to also work as volunteers. I had a great time, but my experience paled beside Phil’s. He not only shook the eventual winner’s hand, he also shook hands with the future First Lady and exchanged pleasantries. Energized, Phillip volunteered to work the balance of the campaign. He learned more about the election process in two days than in all his previous schooling

By the way, Andrea was disappointed that Phil and I had the opportunity to shake hands with the future President and she hadn’t. I told her that it wasn’t that big a deal. After all, more people shook hands with Bill Clinton than had seen Madonna naked.

I lied. It was a big deal.

Political rallies should be a big deal.  They should be POSITIVE, motivating, and family friendly.   I’m looking forward to returning to those simpler times.

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Picture – My Tag – David L Cunix

 

The 60’s were an era of cultural upheaval and activism.  It was a time of change in music, politics, and personal expression.  Some say that the 60’s began on November 22, 1963, the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.  I have always thought that the 60’s began on February 9, 1964, the night the Beatles first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show.  What followed was a musical and fashion revolution, the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr, and Senator Robert Kennedy, the Vietnam War protests, the Summer of Love, and Woodstock.  And when did the 60’s end?  The History Channel says that the 60’s ended at Altamont, December 4, 1969.  Others site Kent State, May 4, 1970.  I believe that the 60’s ended on August 8, 1974 with the resignation of Richard Nixon, proof that our country needed both activism and the rule of law.  Both were important.

Some of us carry the 60’s with us to this very day.  We remember the marches and the speeches.  There were a lot of both and I confess that I delivered a few of them.  I still owe apologies to the youth groups and scout troops my friend John and I bored with our environmental presentations.  Some of us remember key moments, events that impacted us and motivated us to action.  For me, the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago was my wake-up call.  I watched Dan Rather being assaulted by the security thugs on the floor of the convention.  Mayor Richard Daly said, “The police are not here to create disorder, they’re here to preserve disorder.”  It was time to choose sides and the choice, for me, was easy.

My volunteer work, my leadership in not-for-profit organizations, and even my choice of occupations are directly attributable to growing up in the 60’s when you were given the option of being part of the problem or part of the solution.

It was just after noon on Tuesday, May 26^th that my friend Felicia posted a video on Facebook.  To my shock and horror I saw a policeman with his knee on a Black man’s neck.  He was nonchalantly snuffing the life out of a man.  His hands were in his pockets.  He didn’t have a care in the world.  I asked, “How is this acceptable? What will be the excuse this time?”

This time there were cellphones.  Lots of them.  We will never know If George Floyd, lying there on the street for the last 8 minutes 46 seconds of his life, could hear the pleas of the witnesses to his murder.  People were pleading for the police to let him breathe.  People were offering to help.  He did not die alone.  And those cellphones recording everything from multiple angles.

In the days that followed, the entire world has had a chance to see some of these videos.  There was no denying, this time, that a miscarriage of justice had occurred.  We have become witnesses to a murder.

George Floyd’s death will not be impacted by what happens next.  He will still be dead whether the four policemen are successful prosecuted and convicted or if there are no consequences for their actions like the men who killed Trayvon Martin, Philando Castile, and Tamir Rice.  George Floyd’s death isn’t impacted, but YOUR life can be.

Right now millions of young adults, high schoolers, and yes, even 12 and 13 year olds are watching this unfold on TV.  Many have had the opportunity to march in the streets and listen to speeches.  Some may have even addressed the crowds.  Will this moment result in a lifetime of action?  50 years from now will they cite this past week as their wake-up call?

The 2020’s can be a time of change, a time of growth, an era of personal expression.  We can make this a better country.  Our founding fathers said that all men are created equal, but they didn’t mean it.  Now is the time to commit to making it a reality.

One thing hasn’t changed.  You are either part of the problem or part of the solution.

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Picture – Are We Stuck On The Wrong Side Of Liberty? – David L Cunix

We had a couple of Fortune Cookies left over from the other evening.  Our tradition is to crack open the cookie, take a brief look at the fortune, and then to make up something on the spot.  I opened mine and stopped.  The message was, “There are no ordinary moments”.  That was better than anything I would have imagined.

I have lived in Greater Cleveland most of my adult life.  I negotiated a transfer here in 1982.  This is home.  I live in a suburb, one that doesn’t appear on most maps and that wouldn’t thrive if it wasn’t part of the greater whole of Cuyahoga County.  The moment I am more than 30 miles away from home, when asked I answer that I’m from Cleveland.  When Tamir Rice was killed by the police, that was my neighbor that was gunned down.  When the CAVS won the championship, that was my team parading through my downtown.  And this weekend, those were my neighbors on the streets of Cleveland protesting the murder George Floyd.  And when things got ugly, those were my neighbors’ businesses being vandalized and looted.

The pain is palpable.

My daughter is in Seattle.  She watched the city she loves trashed from the vantage point of her apartment window.  Her building is in lock down for 48 hours.  There is nothing she can do.  There is nothing I can do.

I told her earlier today how odd it is to feel so powerless in both this and COVID 19.  I am trying to not be a victim of either, but cannot be useful in a meaningful way.

I want to know who is destroying our cities.  Who is the Umbrella Man, the guy who unabashedly broke the windows of the AutoZone in Minneapolis early in the initial demonstration.  I want to know who brings a sledgehammer to a peaceful protest.  Who is the guy jumping on a police car in downtown Cleveland?   I confess that it has been a couple of decades since I have marched in protest.  There are protesters marching in our cities, but they are not alone.

Our infrastructure has been systematically dismantled over the last few years.  Anarchy, whether by design or through a lack of leadership, is still anarchy.  No one is safe, not my friends in the newly developed downtown and not those of us in the suburbs, once the norms of society have been forsaken.

The reporters are bravely broadcasting from the front lines.  The front lines are here, in Cleveland, Washington DC, Los Angeles, Chicago, and, of course, Minneapolis.  There appear to be three groups.  There are protesters.  There are opportunists, looters who see an opportunity to rob stores and restaurants.  And there are provocateurs who are inciting the crowds and confronting the authorities.  It is a toxic mix.  Add to this over-militarized police forces and the results, days and days of destruction, are inevitable.

And with luck, peace, as we understand it, will return.  Our neighbors will need our help to rebuild.  Our city will need our help.  Whether that it tomorrow or a week from tomorrow, George Floyd will still be dead.  We can hope that he will be the last unarmed Black man who dies at the hands of the police.  That message has been delivered.  Is anyone listening?

One thing is for sure.  The illusion of normalcy has been pierced.  There are no ordinary moments.

DAVE

www.againreally.com

Picture – A Peaceful Protest In Seattle Last Summer – David L Cunix