America Is Headed In the Wrong Direction, But Be Not Afraid

I am not normally prone to morosity, quite the opposite. The Kitten accuses me of irrational optimism, and she says that I tend to look back across the failures and setbacks of my 55 years through the lens of how each actually set me up for some future good turn. She isn't wrong. I imagine that were she not so very patient with me, I could tend to be annoying. 

I spent the first two hours of consciousness this morning with my tablet-app version of the Sunday New York Times, reviewing the news of our world. Fellow denizens of the political right may upbraid me for my choice of reading material, but there really is no equal to a deep dive into the Sunday Times for nice beginning of the week base-lining. Afterward, I spent some time on Twitter. 

The sum total of these two immersive experiences is that I sat down to write this blog tending toward morosity. There really is quite a bit of bad news. Our President retweeted this little gem this morning. Should he at some point delete the Tweet, a short summary follows. What we have is two minutes of video in which anti-Trump and pro-Trump demonstrators at a senior citizen village in Florida hurl insults and general upleasantries at each other. Included in these generic vocalizations is the ironic cry--from the driver of a golf-cart piloted by someone who presumably owns it in order to conserve his waning energy--of "White Power". Ordinarily, something of this nature would muddle around the cesspool of alt-right Twitter without great distribution, but the President of the United States chose not only to retweet it, but to praise his supporters there. I suppose the only good news I could take from the exchange was the possibility that folks in this demographic may be learning from their 2016 mistake. 

Moving on to the global pandemic (you like that segue?), it appears that the United States is leading the world in how poorly it has responded, with the President simply deciding there was no electoral profit in, you know, being President during a time of global pandemic. And so he has moved on to other pursuits as the nation slips into another phase of this disease, one in that APPEARS somewhat less fatal, but which is nevertheless clogging up ICU's with aplomb. We here on the farm aren't quite as locked down as we used to be, but we're not far from it. We practice social distancing (though the presence of Gen-Z daughters and their insatiable need for social interaction stresses this), we wear masks on any trip out of the house, and we continue to watch and wait. 

Don't get me wrong. I am absolutely onboard with those who said we could not stay in quarantine forever. Opening up in mid May made a lot of sense as a way of looking at how we might arrive at a more manageable approach to the pandemic without destroying our economy. But what has happened across broad swathes of the country--aided and abetted by the most irresponsible leadership imaginable from the White House--is absolute entitled recklessness. I'm not an epidemiologist, so forgive me if I am skating on your ice, but it occurs to me that IF WE ALL JUST WEAR OUR DAMN MASKS WHEN WE ARE AROUND PEOPLE OTHER THAN THOSE SHARING LODGING WITH US, THE VIRUS WOULD BE A GOOD BIT LESS VIRULENT and we could all carry on as homo economicus, in effect, walking and chewing gum at the same time. But no. Wearing a mask is an affront to Karen's Civil Rights (or Corey, in the case of her male counterpart), and led by our adolescent President, a common sense approach to public health has now become a loyalty oath to The Bad Orange Man.

As it is nearly July, thoughts turn to autumn, and football, and Saturday home games in Charlottesville. But you know what? I'm beginning to think all these mid May/mid June predictions of a return to normalcy on campus--may be JUST a tad bit premature. We'll see--clearly the demo in college is among the more resistant to the full damage of this virus--but six weeks from now, parents across the country are going to be making a very important risk decision in whether or not to swim out into what by then, could be a full-blown re-emergence (not that it ever de-emerged) of the virus.

I guess what I'm getting at here--and where when I sat down, I had believed would be the point of this piece--is that there is a lot to be morose about.  

But then I thought about an email exchange I had a few days ago with a friend in which I tried to cheer HIM up from a bit of crushing morosity. It goes like this. If we look back at the years from roughly 1972-1984, it plays out like a complete disaster. We lost our first war and high-tailed it out of there. The Arabs woke up and realized that they had us "over a barrel" (so to speak) when it came to our reliance on oil. A man who was already considered somewhat corrupt by many, resigned his presidency over corruption, and then was pardoned by his successor. We learned what "inflation" was. We elected the second most inept President in our history who then (quite rightly) told us we suffered from "malaise". Iranian thugs took 52 Americans from our Embassy and held them for 444 days. The Russians invaded Afghanistan. Our economy faced double-digit inflation, unemployment, and interest rates--all at the same time. The Japanese were cleaning our clock, and American cars came to suck like no other time since cars existed. 

And a fellow from California came along and told us our best days were ahead of us. And he was right. He led us for two terms with effectiveness, honor, and dignity. And then his Vice President led us for one term of honor and dignity. And then a fellow from Arkansas came along and led us for two terms with somewhat less dignity, but no less of a position of hope and effectiveness. American ingenuity and productivity--always there, returned.

My point is--we can, and will, get through all this. No, there is no land of rainbows and unicorns on the other side, but there is a time of more peace and civility, of love and honor, of respect and admiration, of health and stability. As dark as things seem now, it will one day be light again. I am certain of it. 

What's Next for the Right-of-Center National Security Community?

Four years ago, former George W. Bush administration State Department appointee Eliot Cohen (now Dean of the  Paul H. Nitze School of Advanced International Studies (SAIS) at Johns Hopkins University) and I placed an Open Letter on Donald Trump from GOP National Security Leaders in the online media and education forum “War on the Rocks”. In it, we laid out a case for Trump’s unfitness for office in the hope that his early primary momentum could be stopped. Ten dozen right-of-center national security experts of all ages and foreign policy approaches signed the letter, the overwhelming number of whom continue to support its assertions. Included among our warnings were words about Trump’s unmoored and inconsistent approach to foreign policy, his affinity for authoritarian dictators, and his basic and lifelong dishonesty. Additionally, we cited Mr. Trump’s own statements and concluded that he would use the authority of his office in ways that made America less safe, and that his expansive view of presidential power posed a threat to civil liberty.

Today, the Trump Administration is in deep trouble, unable to respond effectively to the COVID pandemic and now fanning the flames of race war as a re-election strategy. To say our warnings were prescient demeans the concept, as little we asserted took much imagination to conjure. We were right. But what to do now? How should the Trump-unfriendly right-of-center national security community move forward?

First, we should help defeat Donald Trump in November. A second Trump term would be a colossal mistake for this nation, and the unique cocktail of power and corruption he dispenses represents a continuing threat to the Republic. Then we must prepare for the future. Principled right-of-center national security thinkers must begin to prepare for the post-Trump era, one in which basic institutions and norms that have historically buttressed our power and influence will have to be strengthened, along with a number of friendships and alliances with international partners. Additionally, opportunities to cooperate with a Biden Administration must be explored, especially those that better posture the nation for continuing competition with China and Russia.

On the policy front, returning to the pre-Trump consensus is unlikely, but clinging to the GOP’s current fascination with nationalist populism cannot continue. Domestic missionary work is necessary, work that would help Americans who had been previously ignored  by the national security thinkers of both parties understand the value of free trade, the centrality of alliances, the importance of U.S. leadership in international organizations, and the need to build national strength across the whole of government for the competitions already underway.

The post-Trump right needs to prepare for a policy environment in which persuading others of the value of our ideas is the path to realizing them, putting the intimidation tactics of the racketeer behind us, as well as those who enabled them. There must be a reckoning in the post-Trump world, a time in which the right re-captures its emphases on ethics, values, and ideas, and systematically exposes the excess of the unprincipled who led it astray. Newly fashionable Trump-lite fan service dispensed by young and attractive faces peddling “re-alignment” should be exposed for what it is, a dramatic expansion of the power and reach of the government into areas of civil life where its influence should always be looked at with a jaundiced eye. Those warning us of the dangers of unbridled capitalism should be made to cite where exactly the bridles are, as what seems to bedevil growth and prosperity in this country—and consequently, our power and influence in the world—is a surfeit of bridles (regulation, crony-capitalism, tariffs) rather than an absence.

Rebuilding the right along classical liberal lines mixed with an updated post-Cold War primacy in the international sphere will not happen overnight, though the damage has been swiftly wrought. The hangover of Trumpism must not be allowed to weigh down a renewal, and the enablers of that decline must not be allowed to outrun their complicity. Those hoping for leadership in this new right must begin by immediately repudiating their support for Trump and Trumpism in all its forms, and they must rededicate themselves to the proposition that ideas, honesty, and persuasion comprise the best path to lasting change.

 

A Good Mind is Capable of Holding Many, Seemingly Opposed Ideas

The Age of Trump has caused me to spend several years examining my ideas and ideology, a process many a former kindred spirit has abandoned while they express politics through their equally opposed political dark hearts and near-Freudian ids.  I've been thinking recently about seemingly opposed ideas in the same head, and the quote attributed to F. Scott Fitzgerald that "The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function." This essay attempts to do something like that. In it, I will explore the deep recesses of my political/social mind in an attempt to put forward a number of opposed or "not necessarily aligned" ideas that I hold equally in good standing.  Here goes.

I am a conservative. 

President Trump is not conservative.

I am not a Republican.

I cannot be a Democrat.

A well-trained police force is essential to law, order, and civil life.

Many communities in this country have legitimate beefs with the police. Many of those communities are minority, including black communities.

Peaceful protests are a constitutional right are to be encouraged in a free society.

Looting and violence are crimes and should be met with force if necessary.

Law and order and the protection of bodily and property safety is the purview of state and local police forces. Federal intervention into local disturbances should come after deep deliberation and caution, and in cooperation with state and local authorities.

Federal intervention can become necessary when local disturbances exceed local ability to quell.

Police reform and criminal justice reform are reasonable policy options in response to current upheaval.

De-funding police departments is not reasonable.

It is asinine for Trump supporters to say "take him seriously, not literally".

It is asinine for activists to say that "De-fund the Police" does not mean--de-fund the police. 

All Lives Matter.

Black Lives Matter.

Racism exists in the United States.

The United States is not racist.

Capitalism will inevitably create losers. 

The alternative makes everyone a loser.

Free markets are a form of liberty.

Markets are far from free.

Our friends and allies around the world do not spend enough on their own defense.

Abandoning our friends and allies is a terrible thing.

American participation in international organizations constrains policy choices.

Participating--no, leading--international organizations is in our national interest. 

Socialized medicine is an evil worth avoiding at all costs.

Our system linking insurance coverage to employment is ridiculous.

Taxation is confiscation.

Taxes are the price paid for a functioning civil society.

America has a gun problem.

The crime rate has dramatically fallen over the same time there has been a significant increase in the number of privately held guns. 

Determining who enters and who stays in this country is the table-stakes of sovereignty.

America is improved by its immigrants.

A wall or physical barrier on our southern border is a prudent policy choice.

This choice should be made by our representatives in our Federal legislature, not funded by Presidential fiat through questionable re-allocation of appropriated funds.

That was fun. You are invited to share oppositions from your own supple minds in the comment section. 

On Parting with the Past

During our ongoing COVID hunkering, The Kitten has been very busy with various projects that we have long put off, made somewhat worse by her Mother's death last year and her duties as executor. Between us, there is a good deal of the past that needs cleaning up, looking into, throwing out, and passing along. She is a great respecter of the past. Her family history in this county goes back to the mid 1600's, she has a sharp eye for colonial era antiques, and she is far better at appreciating the value of things than I am. This is a very pleasant way of saying that she doesn't like to throw things out, and donating them is often a difficult decision. But she has made the decisions, she is working hard, and progress is being made. Along the way, I have been made to examine my own approach to the accumulation of things, and that is what this post is about. 

The Navy, and its tendency to move me from place to place every 30 months or so, created in me a dedication to not only having only what I need, but in divesting of things every time the moving van's arrival was imminent. Over the 21 years I was in the Navy, I gave away a LOT of stuff. Beds, bedding, towels, kitchen stuff, clothes, whatever. At each new duty station, I arrived lightly equipped, and added a little here and there.

When I left the Navy and accepted The Kitten's offer of bliss here on the Farm, I began what has turned into a new experience for me as an adult--living in one place. I've been here over twelve years now, and honestly, I've become something of a pack-rat. We have a nice sized place, but most of the available storage (see para 1) was taken, so ten years ago, I started renting a storage unit. In it were placed items of furniture, old computers/monitors/printers, the bedding and linens from my final Swinging Bachelor Pad (some of you remember it, we all honor it), the kitchenware from the Swinging Bachelor Pad, boxes of books that didn't make the cut to be on my bookshelves, lamps, prints (yes, the frolicking beagles and the hunt scenes), etc. And there are other things there. A box of uniforms. A box of the stuff I pulled off USS BULKELEY when I left--a copy of every fitrep I signed, every letter I wrote, pictures, photo CD's. Every plaque I ever got in the Navy. Photos. Memorabilia. But that's not all. Virtually every note I ever took in grad school, all the papers I wrote, and a good bit of the undergraduate versions thereof. It's all there. 

For the longest time, The Kitten--from her glass house--has chided me for the expense of the storage unit. Up until I lit myself on fire politically, I would tell her that I need all that household stuff to set up a DC apartment when my people come into power and I go to work in government. I abandoned that hope several years ago, and made a halting first step last summer when my Godson--newly commissioned Ensign James A. Blanford, USCG--and I raided the unit for stuff to help him set up his first place--in Kodiak, AL.  I felt really good passing that stuff along.

This morning, The Kitten asked me if I had room in my storage unit for some of the treasures from her mother's house. While I of course, wanted to to a little end-zone dance proclaiming how wise I was for spending $900 a year for ten years on it, I said "of course", and then headed across town to it to make sure I wasn't lying. It was 2/3 full or so, but I have a loaner while my car is getting serviced, and it is one of those little SUVlets with some storage area. I folded down the seats, and dedicated a little time to making some more room for The Kitten's treasures.

I made two trips back and forth to Goodwill. The first was primarily books. Between us, The Kitten and I have accumulated a LOT of books. With her came along all the books accumulated by her late-husband, and so between the three of us are seven degrees and decades of book accumulation. Then there are her mother's books. I have a wall full of books in my ManCave, we have bookshelves in our bedroom, our upstairs master, and our library/dining room. We have a ton of books. But there are no longer any books in my storage unit.

I've begun to wonder about the breezy way I acquire books, and whether I am just saddling my heirs with the backbreaking job of figuring out what to do with them. I'll be on the Metro reading a book review, and then I'll hit the link to Amazon and buy it. I do this more than I ought. Because I see my retirement as the golden age of reading--I just may decide to do it all on a Kindle in order not to be such a burden.

I donated two Keurig coffee makers. I donated the linens and kitchen stuff from my last apartment. There will be no DC apartment. 

There are a ton of electronics that need to go bye-bye, but most of what remains for some odd reason, continues to have meaning for me. When I got home, I talked to The Kitten about my morning, and she said she understood pretty much all of my decisions except the one to retain the undergrad and grad school work. I thought long and hard about it, and decided it was just too soon. 

America is Burning

Like much of the country, I have been transfixed over the images playing out on my screens of whatever size these past few days. I am truly sad for my country; no, I am sadder. I have been sad for several years now, but the feeling has intensified as that which I and others warned of has now come to fruition, and our country is being torn apart at least in part by the words and actions of the President. I have much to say on this. Strap in because not everyone is going to be happy.

There is a rich alchemy at work in the streets of America's cities, one in which 400 years of slavery and oppression is mixed with 90 days of isolation, and then ignited by devious forces of chaos and anarchy riding the wave of technology. Atop it all sits a man uniquely unqualified for the moment, who has convinced himself that it is 1968 and he is Richard Nixon, while the much of the country realizes that he is in actuality, Mayor Dailey. Put another way, he isn't here to "fix" anything; he caused it.

Well, that's actually wrong to say. This--and by this I mean the riots--was not caused by Donald Trump. We'll get to his role and culpability in all of this. Let's look at what is going on here.

First there is the undeniable contribution of the country's legacy of slavery and oppression. The black community in America had a much different start than any other immigrant group, so different that it is a strain to even make a comparison. But we must. While you may not believe systemic racism exists, it once did in the form of democratically sanctioned law-making, and one result after hundreds of years is a particular darkness in the hearts of many white people. While laws of changed, many hearts have not.

We move then onto the police, and we think about the startling, nearly miraculous decline in crime in America in recent decades. Go and look. Check the FBI's crime statistics, and you will find that crime (mugging, robbery, assault, random gun crime, etc) was a MUCH bigger problem in the 60's and 70's than it is today. America's cities are incredibly safe today--compared to their Johnson-era predecessors. How did this happen? It happened like most complicated things, through a complicated series of inputs. Here are a few. First, there was a revolution in policing that started in academia and then moved to the streets, one in which police were encouraged to become MUCH more visible. In that visibility was included an added emphasis on the suppression of petty crime, under the theory that cleaning up the criminal underbrush would slow the spread of criminal conflagration. Police over time, became not only more visible, but more active. Dare I say, more aggressive. This added aggression over time, established a "new normal" in many places, and in that new normal, what passed for acceptable police behavior changed--and it changed in a way that behavior that went over the line now had become dangerous, abusive, violent, and life-threatening. The recipients of this treatment--tended to be members of the community discussed in the previous paragraph, inner city minorities, especially black people. Indeed, the perception grew that the police were racist, because the professional conduct of policing changed so dramatically and was felt so substantially by black people. I think racism was in the mix. But I think there was more to it.

The police also have become militarized. Or more militarized. I do not like seeing armored vehicles on America's streets operated by police. I do not like hearing police officers on television referring to "civilians", as if they are not very much part of the civilian population, the part paid and trusted to serve and protect. But let's not kid ourselves--they are facing more effective and more militarized opponents on the rioting field.

Keep in mind--there are a TON of angry but law-abiding citizens on the streets of our cities. The murder of George Floyd by a white police officer playing out on an eight and half minute video like some sick snuff porn, was just the latest instance of a black man in police custody being killed. It occurs to me that the police officer involved did not set out to kill George Floyd. He did nonetheless, and he did it for all the world to see. There are other names. There are other lives. This is a problem, and it is a problem worth protesting.

The fact that protesters have been quarantined for months is not helping, as many protesters are also newly jobless in addition to stir-crazy. There is palpable rage among a group of people for whom "the system" is not working. Much of the looting being done seems to me to be coming out of this group, but it has ever been thus when cities burn. 

And then there are the free-lance chaos artists, anarchists, and thrill seekers. Many are college students newly without summer jobs and much to do, looking for an outlet for their woke-i-tude.  They are super-empowered with modern technology, and they are--like the President they despise--accelerating the burn.  

Speaking of the President, the man is a menace. He has never been one to unite, and his go-to move is to divide. Guilty last evening of impeachable abuse of power in using federal law enforcement to violently disburse a crowd so that he could waddle across the street in the company of his co-conspirators grasping a book he has never opened to a building he does not know for a thirteen second photo-op, he is like a boy in a backyard firework display with a lighter in his hand and a crazed look on his face. He simply cannot WAIT to federalize the National Guard and force military power on Governors and Mayors who have not asked for it. Aided and abetted by men of low character (the Attorney General, the Secretary of Defense, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs), he has decided to make his last stand atop the wreckage of American civil life. He has utterly lost interest in a virus that has killed 100,000 of his fellow citizens, and he seems unfazed by the irony of his statements providing for any and all means to stop the urban violence even as he was unable to summon up these same forces to stop a virus. 

Armchair historians quick to curry favor with the regime point to the various times in our history when more virtuous Chief Executives called out federal power to quell disturbances, without ever considering the unique role this Chief Executive is playing in the disturbances he fosters and supports. 

To be sure, there must be order. We cannot go on each night having businesses torched and looted. We cannot have a caviling media on the one hand criticizing law enforcement for excess force, even as they criticize the same law enforcement for standing by while stores are looted--knowing that to stop the looting would require the use of force they would then broadcast in real-time without context. 

There may be a time where federal troops are necessary to quell these outbreaks. It occurs to me that these troops should be requested prior to their being deployed. But with a President like this one who respects not a single pillar of our founding--federalism included--we cannot be sure.

It is going to be a long, hot, summer. God be with us. 

Dispatch from the Q-Life: Week 13

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Entering week 13--if it had come at all--I would have a gnarly beard, a strong lip from much trumpet playing, rudimentary banjo skills, a near finished novel, and considerably more blog posts on record. But as the poet tells us...the best laid plans....

Let me deal with my failures in turn.

First, the beard. I still don't know how beard wearing men make it through the itchy stage. I never have. Then there is the complaining. I go in for a little kiss and I'm not even six inches away and I hear "ouch". How fair is that?

I had thought about playing my trumpet more during the quarantine, and it is here in its stand next to my desk, the music book opened to "You've Got a Friend", and I can almost HEAR the oil drying from the valves as they stick into place from lack of use. Why? I don't know. I could get back to it. As for the banjo, although my desired instructor is happy to do lessons by Zoom or some other such contrivance, I'm not up for that. Gonna need a little in-person instruction to get started.

The novel you ask? Like the other times I have taken determined stabs at it, a frenzy of activity for about a week, and then....well, not much. I do hope someday to complete it.

Blog posts? Faithful readers already know that one is pitiful. To be honest, there just hasn't been that much to talk about.

But as we end the month of May, a few things to pass on. First, May is a month of great joy in our house, as both of the Kittens have birthdays (7th, 26th), as does their mother The Kitten (28th). Add to the mix Mother's Day. So lots of little celebrations. The older Kitten turned 21 yesterday, and had a few socially distanced friends (3) over to the house to celebrate in style. We recover today--and prepare for tomorrow's great celebration of The Kitten's Birthday. I am one of six kids. Outside of a FESTIVAL I threw for MYSELF on my 50th Birthday, my birthdays have always been relatively cozy affairs. As a boy, a friend or two would join the family for whatever meat my father was grilling, or pizza, and cake. A present or two. A good day, no doubt. But birthdays in my acquired family are annual rites of godly worship. OVER THE TOP. 

To be honest, the birthdays this month have broken the monotony of things, not that I dislike monotony. In fact--as we've discussed--I'm sorta into it. My day, explained: Wake naturally whenever, usually around 7. Coffee, daily Calm meditation, weigh-in (down 15.4 lbs, thank you), and weight recording in three different places (personal spreadsheet, Noom (the Kitten hornswaggled me into it so that she had a buddy) and MyFitnessPal. Noom requires a few guided lessons/exercises, so I perform them in a desultory manner. Feed the beasts. Onload the dishwasher, which to my great joy, all of the savages I live with have been much better about using as a place to store dirty dishes (rather than the sink and counters). In fact, the team has stepped up their performance in this regard. 

I work until about 2:30pm. Work these days consists of--well, mostly what I did before the quarantine but with a lot of video meetings and teleconferences substituted for formerly in-person meetings, and because scheduling and conducting meetings during the quarantine is a sign of productivity. I read professionally quite a bit. I write about what I've read for people who care what I think. I think for people who care about how I think and then tell them what I think. It is a uniquely fashioned professional life generally well-fitted to a quarantine, although I can do no classified work in the ManCave. 

I drop in on people via Facebook Messenger, unannounced. There is a feature that shows a little green dot next to people's profile feature if they have the program running (even if it is just in the background/not properly closed out). I find my dude friends are very receptive to drop-ins, but 8 out of 10 times I drop in on a lady-friend, I get ignored and then receive a Direct Message saying some version of "I haven't showered". Speaking of showers. I'd say I'm on an every other day schedule. I pretty much wear the same thing every day. I rotate among two sets of Adidas warm-up pants (keen readers will note this is a key element of my travel rig), a T-Shirt, trainers and a fleece (if it is chilly).  Here is me, this very morning:

Honestly, the world's most forgiving mirror

At some point during the day, I get on the treadmill for thirty minutes....20 of them "running" at 5.2 MPH and 10 of them walking at 3.8. I have two metal hips, and I'm told that running shouldn't be part of my life, but I grew weary of having little or no wind, and the treadmill has "give", so I'm back at it. The treadmill is located in my office/Mancave, and I have two three women with varying degrees of desire to use it and the other equipment in here...and so I vacate my office by 3PM.

Generally, I have no commitments after 3, except for a weekly conference call at 4PM on Tuesdays and occasional calls that pop up here and there. We have a pool here at the homestead, but the weather on the Eastern Shore has been SHITTY this spring (longest March since Sherman/Atlanta) and so I am unaware of any humans having been in it (though the dogs love it). But pool chores must be done and usually they get done late in the afternoon, along with a little binge-watching of whatever it is I'm currently addicted to. 

Somewhere around 4:30 PM, I begin preparations for dinner, which I like to eat no later than 5:30PM. I've sorta imposed WARSHIP meal hours on myself here in the Q, and I like it. All four of the residents of this rest-home are on their own special diets/eating plans. I'm high fat/protein, low carb, the Kittens are Vegan (you won't need to ask them), and The Kitten seems to bounce between the two. She (The Kitten) is a good sport, and tries to eat dinner with me, even though I think she'd rather eat later. Once I've eaten and cleaned up, I grab the last cup of coffee of the day and take my place next to the kitchen fireplace (which has actually still been in use) to sit quietly and enjoy the chatter of the Kittens when they come down to the kitchen to begin their meal preps. When I have my hearing aids in, I am able to follow along and even participate. Sometimes I do not have them in.

After a bit, I will head back out to the office to contemplate the next day, to read through notes I've made, and to write out tomorrow's tasks. Then, some reading and or more binge-ing. Taps at 2200.

Sprinkled during the week are a trip to the grocery store now and then, pool chemicals, and the like. Not much though...the cars have had a nice rest during this time. I'm told that the weather will improve, so I'm gonna work some Kayaking or rowing (with the Kitten in her wooden rowboat) or paddleboarding into things.

I woke this morning to news that DoD has rescinded its "don't move until 30 June" order, and substituted a set of conditions based strictures to guide local installations in coming out of the Q. Since the DMV area (District, Maryland, Virginia) remains a hotspot, I expect we'll be in Q for a bit longer, but not much. Then, it is off into a brave new world of I don't know what. I don't think any of us do. Stay tuned for more as we discover it together. 

Entering Month 3: Update from the Q-Life

Since I entered the Q-Life on 10 March, two months have transpired and the third is upon me. As I've admitted here before, my sheltering in place is not nearly as tough as some.  I can do much of my job from home, and as my clients are also laboring under the impact of the virus, they are quite accommodating. I have a large enough house to have space set apart largely for myself, and my domestic situation does not include other humans in need of great oversight. Some people are really struggling...financially, psychologically, or both. I have a lot of sympathy for them. The hardest thing for anyone to figure out these days is "how does this all end"? I'm neither a math guy nor an epidemiologist, so all I can do is pose the questions that I consider and that form a good bit of conversation around my house these days, questions like "Does anything really change without a vaccine?" and "Won't there be a ton more deaths if we open the economy too quickly?" and "I wonder if my college is going to have classes on campus this fall?"  All are good questions and I have no answers. One question I don't hear from the others I live with is "what is this doing to the economy?"  This is the luxury of class and position, and sometimes I have to remind others that there are a lot of people truly suffering economically right now, and that suffering is fueling some of the protests underway. Clearly, there are other factors in the protests (political performative theater, identity politics, COSPLAYing), but this pain is real and the pressures to find a middle ground between open and Q-life is probably for the good. We need to find a way to "manage" things while people work and live.

One development that has me truly worried is the slow, grinding, decline of the meat and poultry processing industries as the virus ravages their work-forces. Presumably, after the workforce gets sick and recovers, these industries would be somewhat less impacted by the disease and could "come back", but in the meantime, people are going to suffer and die, and that is a tragedy. 

May is always a big month around the house. Both Kittens and The Kitten have their birthdays in May, and Mother's Day adds to the fun. Lord Bezos of Amazon (all praise be upon him) has made some of the logistics of pulling these events off easier, but birthdays are a pretty big deal around here and they are getting squashed a little. My proposal to shift birthdays a month to the right (with provisions for further shifting) was not adopted.

The younger members of the tribe are getting more restless with the requirements of the Q-Life, and their "salami-slicing" tactics designed to slowly wear down the resolve of decision-makers appears to be having some success. Maryland is still very much in lockdown, but a drive Saturday over to St. Michaels revealed a good bit of humanity on the streets (most with masks, thankfully), and no shortage of cars on the road, etc. It begins to give one a glimpse of where we might be going soon, with social distancing still stressed, mando-masking, lower density in shops and restaurants, etc, while life goes on elsewhere. Even under these conditions, the virus is likely to continue to be spread, and people will continue to be hospitalized and die. The more dedicated to mitigation we remain, the fewer get infected. 

To end this cheery update, I brought my 10 year old Jag (260,000 miles) to a local mechanic with various maladies in need of attention (don't shake your head--this has been the most reliable car I've ever owned). Among other pathologies, it appears mice ate through the wiring harness to one of the fuel injectors.  Country living.

Be well, friends. 

Thoughts on the President's Nightly Campaign Rallies

There is--in the wider culture, that is, the culture existing outside the walls of my quarantined existence--a debate underway. On the one side are those who believe that the White House Press Corps and the cable news networks are obligated by their craft to cover live each night the 90-120 minute press conferences conducted by the White House. On the other hand are those who believe that these 90-120 minute circuses are simply Trumpy campaign rallies, and by covering them live as they do, the media are providing the President with tens if not hundreds of millions of dollars worth of free media. I fall into the second category for those who are curious.

Now, there are clearly people who fit in neither of these categories, but nowhere do I say that this debate includes all Americans. There are those who simply don't care, which astounds me. And there are those who think the rallies are wonderful and why would the press not cover them? This repulses me. So I'm not talking here about either of these two groups.

I'm talking about two groups of people who have differing views on the role of the media and their obligation--if any--to cover all of the President's appearances.

One of the things that occurs to me as I wade through this is the correlation between those who believe the press has a duty to cover these events and those who believe the press treat the President unfairly in these events. Lotta overlap here. The crew at Commentary magazine and specifically in their podcast --- fall into this category. They've become more Trumpy during the course of this pandemic (especially John Podhoretz and Noah Rothman), expressing utter amazement that anyone would suggest that the press not cover these events live, at the same time deriding the press for the "gotcha" coverage thereof, as if they are supposed to do as the President asks and ask nice questions framed in the manner he desires, while avoiding any reference to the utter failure of leadership for which he was responsible throughout the entire month of February and the farrago of lies, inconsistency, and incompetence that has dominated his nightly performances. The President veers from being a petulant child to a volatile monarch, talking over reporters and insulting them at every turn--but woe betide a reporter who stands there and unwaveringly continues to ask their question --especially if----SHE IS A WOMAN!  The nerve.

On the bright side there is some evidence that these nightly exercises in Trumpenproletarian group masturbation---carried live--- are having a deleterious impact on the President's standing with voters. Joe Biden's relative silence these days is chalked up by some to be a sign of there not really being much he can do, what with the country being locked down and all (which is also hurting his fund raising). I see it differently. I think old Uncle Joe is sitting there in his Delaware villa watching the President shoot himself in the foot every night and thinking about Napoleon's dictum never to interrupt one's enemy while he is making a mistake.

And so as I think about this subject, I reluctantly come down on the side of the press covering it as it is, in no small part because I believe in Napoleon's wisdom too. That and a naive hope that the size of the Trumpenproletariat has reached its zenith, and that Trump's nightly tantrums are convincing those who held their nose for him in '16 because of Hillary's odiousness,  that doing so in '20 is unthinkable due to Trump's. We can hope, anyway.

Congress Should Thoroughly Vet the Navy Secretary Nominee

I have a piece up over at the Commander Salamander blog urging the Senate Armed Services not to rush to confirmation on the Navy Secretary nominee.  See it here.

Am I Allowed To Say That I Am Enjoying This?

Yesterday marked the one month point in The FerryBridge Farm COVID-19 Quarantine. The four of us are healthy, and we've each adapted in our own way. I was thinking this morning about each of  us, and the challenges of our individual adaptation. Because I get in trouble when I talk about the Kitten and the Kittens, I won't cover their situations, or to be clear, my perception of their situations. I'll stick only to myself. And I am here to tell you that putting aside the mental load that this virus has dealt me (worry about the health of those I love and other humans in general, financial and business considerations, more time to consider how corrupt, malevolent, and incompetent our President is, toilet paper and Shake and Bake supplies, no sports), when I sum it all up, I'm here to say that I am really, really enjoying myself.

Ok. I get it. You are reading this and saying "McGrath is an idiot. How can anyone enjoy being restricted to their home wondering where their next square of TP is coming from?".  Well, I have an answer for you. About four months ago, The Kitten and I had some married friends over. He lived in the same dorm as I did first year at UVA, and she was The Kitten's roomie at boarding school. During the visit, we began to talk about retirement, and I revealed that my plan was to work for no man's money after my 60th Birthday, and if things went right, I'd maybe even stop before then. Bertha (name changed to protect the innocent) seemed not to accept that I would be able to stop at such a relatively young age, that I would get bored, that I would need to feel more vitality to be happy. I contested her at every front. She then said, "ok, describe for me what your average day in retirement is going to look like."  And I did.  You know what?  It sounded a HELL of a lot like the way I am spending my days these days. With the exception of the actual paid work that I do in spurts throughout the day--either on the phone, skype, or at the computer--the Q-Life and the R-Life have a lot of overlap.

Don't tell anyone, but I am not unhappy.

I wake naturally between 0630 and 0730 after eight hours of (CPAP enabled) blissful sleep. I feed the dogs and grab some joe on the way out to my garage office/mancave. I spend a couple of hours reading the news/playing around on social media. I have some more coffee. I practice my trumpet. I write a few hundred words in my novel. I do 30 minutes on the treadmill at 17 degrees incline, 3.7mph.  I have some more coffee. I reach out to friends on Facebook video messenger. I read, professionally and personally. I walk the half mile round trip to and from the mailbox to check for mail.  I do Zoom meetings with other navalists. I do Zoom meetings with friends. I have been skipping lunch, but I go find my the Kitten/Kittens and sit around in conversation with them, sometimes while they are eating. I read some more. I record a trumpet piece on Facebook. I screw around on social media some more. I make a grocery order, or I review a grocery order already begun. I question myriad items on the list that are not fit for human consumption or that I have never heard of. I bother The Kitten.  I blog. Then I bother the kitten some more. I leave the ManCave/office/fitness center because late in the afternoon, my fitness oriented daughters each seem to need 2 hrs apiece in it. I sometimes nap. I read some more. I make dinner, usually only for myself but occasionally for me and the Kitten (the Kittens do not eat as they were trained, and now seem only to consume legumes). I have my last coffee of the day.  I binge some TV, sometimes in the ManCave (after the Kittens have vacated it), and sometimes with The Kitten. Lights out at 2200.

I am a man of routines and my days are nothing but a series of routines. What day it is, is almost immaterial, except for some days have routine items associated with them. It is blissful. I don't have to drive anywhere, but I do get to look at my lovely cars. I certainly don't have to drive 150 miles round trip to Washington several times a week.

I can honestly say that -- putting aside for a second the horrors of a global pandemic -- the sacrifices being asked of me to "flatten the curve" have not been sacrifices at all. They've given me a glimpse of my future, and I am looking forward to it.

Say Goodbye to the 355 Ship Navy

In the olden days of the blog, I did quite a bit of writing about Navy oriented stuff. I would post some of those thoughts here, and some at the venerable Information Dissemination blog. But over time, I found that other avenues were more influential in getting my Navy thinking out, especially the guest slots that Commander Salamander has graciously offered me at his site and longer form articles that the great Ryan Evans has posted for me at War on the Rocks.

As I've said, Twitter has eaten into the world of blogs, in a big way. Additionally "content aggregation" sites (that is, sites that have a ton of people writing things for them for free in order that the writer can get their thoughts out--like War on the Rocks above) have enormous readership, so you can squirrel away your work on a blog that 275 people read, or you can submit it to these sites and have tens of thousands of people read it. Because those sites are highly professional (as opposed to this scattershot blog) there are often multi-pass editing processes involved. Because I have the attention span of a three year old, they frustrate me, and so I tweet and I blog. But this is an important one.

The worldwide COVID outbreak will effectively kill the 355 ship Navy planned by this Administration and enthusiastically supported by this author. If I were a betting man, I'd put a hell of a lot more money on a 250 ship Navy emerging from this crisis, than a 355 ship Navy.

All of the major GOP presidential candidates in 2016 supported building a bigger Navy. The Obama Administration had a plan for a two-hub (Far East, Arabian Gulf/Indian Ocean) Navy of 308 ships, and was steadily building to that goal. It was however, insufficient. On the Rubio Team, I helped put together a plan that got us to 324 ships within ten years of taking office. When Rubio imploded, I joined a Cruz team (unenthusiastically) that had developed a 350 ship architecture. When Cruz imploded, many of those Cruz national security types meandered over to the Trump team and lo and behold, Trump started talking about a 350 ship Navy.

Trump's instincts are to build, and a larger Navy fit in well with his MAGA approach and his stated promise of rebuilding the military. It was then and remains now one of the few areas of wholehearted support I have given a Trump policy. Truth is, I've supported it a hell of a lot more publicly and effectively than the President has supported it, but that is a different story.

Soon after announcing the 350 Ship goal, the Navy--still under Obama--undertook a "Force Structure Assessment" that reached the conclusion that the requirement had grown from 308 ships to 355 ships. This was to some extent, a pissing contest between the Secretary of the Navy Ray Mabus--who believed that we needed to build ships--even less capable ones--so that the hulls would be available for future upgrades--and the Secretary of Defense Ash Carter, who wasn't as interested in a larger Navy. This 355 ship Navy remains the "force structure" goal of record, even though there has been a good deal of churn in the past year about what that number means and how to achieve it. I am not here to get into a deep discussion of fleet architecture--there is plenty of that going on elsewhere. What I am here to do is send a message that we are more likely to see a Navy of 250 ships in ten years than we are to see one of 355.

Alternative futures exercises produce a menu of "futures".  Some of those futures are "more likely" than others, some of those futures are "more disruptive" than others. As I look at the worldwide COVID pandemic, I begin to think in terms of alternative futures. Here's one of the ways I think about things:

You can think about myriad events and then attempt to fit them into the framework suggested above. What I am suggesting is something that I see on the likely side of the graph, and in the disruptive (upper half), don't know where I'd put it, I guess I'd have to look at other possible events/futures and then do a relative assessment. But what I am suggesting is that is is likely that our economy will contract at some point in the next year, and possibly go into depression. Such an event--would I think, be very disruptive. Clearly the economic impact would be enormous, but so too would the social and political costs. 

I simply do not believe that a contracting economy can and will continue to spend $750B annually on defense (round numbers), nor do I believe that the social fabric of the country will permit it. The defense budget is a fabulous pool of resources for pet social projects in the best of times, so in a time of legitimate crisis, the resources DoD consumes will jealously--and rightfully--eyed for other purposes.

I believe that defense planners should begin to think about (my guess is they already are, by the way) what the priorities in a DoD budget will be with cuts of 10, 25, and 40 per cent.  Given the nature of modern defense strategy making and its inability to make hard choices, my guess is that the cuts would ultimately be dealt equally to the armed services and their capabilities. And while I could make an argument under any of these conditions that seapower should be privileged over many other elements of military power and that the NAVY SHOULD KEEP GROWING EVEN IN A DEPRESSION, I harbor no illusion this would come to pass.

Therefore, I think Navy planners should think about a world with considerably less money coming their way. What do we do? Cutting people is would be an enormous savings, as people are enormously expensive. But would this be the time to throw Sailors off the payroll? Tough political decision. An easier decision would be to cancel selected acquisition contracts (ships, submarines, airplanes, satellites, etc) and expensive platform modernization efforts. I fear though, that too much cutting here would leave the Navy dangerously unprepared when the impact of COVID has been completely worked though. Another area where considerable money could be saved is in simply tying ships to the pier, and even decommissioning some of them altogether. My point is--and I concede it is a pretty obvious one--the 355 ship Navy is likely dead, and a smaller Navy is far more likely in the near term than a larger one. What that smaller Navy looks like, what it does, where it does it, and to what extent--are all questions that remain.

Winter is coming.

Q-Life Update: Provisioning in the Time of the Great Quieting

I read on various social media outlets the narratives of parents sheltering in place with their young children, and I am grateful that the Kittens are 18 and 20. I didn't have the patience for full time parenting, so the Lord kindly dropped me into a ready-made family when the girls were 6 and 8 respectively. The little family I joined had its vibes and rhythms, and I joined in as best I could. Well, that's probably not true. I wasn't much of a "get down on the ground and play" kind of parent (though they delighted in it when I did), and I do regret lost opportunities. I suppose I always felt like if they could just hang on until they were young adults, I would have something to offer them that they might value. We're still waiting on the results of this approach.

There is of course, a new appreciation for the role of teachers in our society as adults are caged with their own progeny all day, and the videos capturing these challenges making their way to the interwebs can be pretty funny. But what this post is all about is the challenge of provisioning a house of four, cross-generational, adults of both sexes.

I have made two provisioning runs since the Q-Life began. By my own standards, they were somewhat successful. I was able to bring home steak, pork, bacon, lamb, chicken, eggs, milk, half/half, salmon (both filet and smoked slices), everything bagels, Life cereal, tuna, mac and cheese, pasta, pancake mix, maple syrup, swiss cheese, cream cheese, brussel sprouts, baking potatoes, asparagus, and sundry salad fixings. Bear in mind, this was on top of all the food that already existed in our house. I estimate that if we were to go all in, we have sufficient calories for four adults for 3 to four months on hand. Minimum.

But....we must remember...my standards are not necessarily shared standards. For instance, how can one possibly survive without pomegranate seeds? Or cilantro? Or cubed sweet potatoes? Or ginger? Or bibb lettuce? Or chickpeas? Or harissa paste? Or quinoa? Or "fresh" almond butter?

You see where I'm going with this?

Moving on to some other provisioning "issues". How about we all agree that grocery shopping during a pandemic is NOT a social event, hmmm? Dependent children, the handicapped, and the aged (in SOME cases) excepted, the rest of us should be sending ONE HUMAN PER CART into the store to interact with the other humans in the store. I saw multiple instances of three to four person moving roadblocks laughing and frolicking as I (head down) moved through the store.

Also--the toilet paper and paper towels hoarders are filthy animals. Let's just get that out there. They've created a problem that would never have existed but for their utterly selfish and anti-social behavior.

A final observation. I am, by virtue of the profession I've cobbled together, capable at least for a time, of continuing to earn my living while operating in lockdown. I am grateful. I am also grateful for the people who do not have this option, who by virtue of their jobs and the needs of a civil society, have to keep working. Folks in the transportation industry, the grocery stores, restaurants etc are to be admired and praised. Those working in our nation's hospitals--especially under the conditions we read about in population dense cities--are going to be what keeps this society together when all is said and done. I am awed by their sense of duty.

On the Loss of Sports

As I reflect upon now two weeks of the Q-Life, there are a number of things whose absence is meaningful to me. I miss interacting with smart people in professional settings. I miss whatever it is was passing for normality before all this. I miss 24% of my net worth. What I miss more than anything though, is sports.

I am not a sports freak. I am in fact, a University of Virginia sports freak, and I take a great deal of interest in the success and failure of my Wahoos, irrespective of the sport. But the great mass of public, professional sports is really not on my radar. I follow no professional sports team of any variety with anything close to real interest. I don't mind attending pro sports events in person, but I do it rarely. As I age, I make a promise to myself around New Years every year to watch more baseball, but I never do. My friend Dan and I attend a Packers game every couple of years together, but it is more about the weekend than it is about the sport (at least for me. Dan is a deranged Packers fan). 

With all of that as background, I must admit to missing sports in the time of the great quieting. Of course, I miss March Madness, the greatest sporting event known to man. But I miss pro basketball. I miss the spring training noise. I miss watching the big golf tournaments. It isn't just the watching, though. It is the reading, and the talking, and the listening. Sports--even those in which I have little interest--have formed the soundtrack of my life. Even though I didn't WATCH these sports, I followed them at a distance, if for no other reason than to be an informed participant in the conversations of other men. Ladies, don't take this as a swipe, but to the extent that I have had conversations about professional sports in my life, it has virtually always been with men. There are three grown women in my house, and annually on Super Bowl Sunday, at least one will inquire who is playing. 

Some may consider this antediluvian, but there is a not insignificant component of being a man of a certain age--at least in the circles in which I travel-- that requires one to have at least passing knowledge of what is going on in the major sports of the season. Again--I point to my lovely daughters. They are not only women, but they are young women. There simply is NO requirement for them in their everyday lives to be up on whether LeBron or Giannis should be the NBA MVP, or why the Astros batters seemed to get beaned all through the beginnings of spring training. 

So all of this was sort of a windup to the actual pitch.... and that is, a world without sports (or at least mindless chatter about sports) is a little bit frightening to me, because it is one step closer to the feminist Valhalla of a world without men. Sports small talk is the stuff of a giant slice of male interpersonal relationships. No sports, what do we have to talk about? 

Q-Life: Day 13

We are nearing the end of the second week of what I have taken to calling "The Q-Life", or quarantining at home, and thus far, the program is proceeding swimmingly. Our provisions are holding up well, and our equanimity toward each other remains high. I have in my ManCave, various implements of torture, including a treadmill and numerous dumbbells, in addition to a bit of space in front of my bookshelves. Having now to share the exercise area with the Kittens means working out schedules and the like, not only because of the use of the equipment, but also because of the horrific noise that passes for music they enjoy listening to and its impact on my ability to work in the same space. They have not generally been active in the mornings, and I am all too happy to vacate around 3PM, so we've entered into a reasonable accommodation.

The news greets us today with reports of Senator Rand Paul having contracted the virus, and therefore several other Senators with whom he had been in contact recently going into voluntary quarantine. This news came quick on the heels of reports of several recently frolicking "Spring Breakers" having contracted the virus. You may consider the irresponsibility of both by your own standards.

Talk in the (socially distanced) kitchen last night was that the Kittens' spring semesters are underway in earnest today via the interwebs. With all the classroom instruction and streaming of all kinds going on, this time is providing a solid stress test of  "the internet", to the extent that it can be considered a thing at all.

As I walk about, I see various "Spring Cleaning" kinds of jobs that need doing. I reported to the Obergruppenfuhrer yesterday that I would -- on nice days -- be available for such labors from 3 to 5PM, and she is dutifully working up an OPORDER for my execution.

I had hoped to use this time to pick up my new banjo and get more acquainted with it, but in tuning it, I managed to break two strings. It don't have a feeling that for $179.00, I bought the greatest banjo in the world, but now I need to restring it before I can begin lessons.

As expected, the numbers of reported cases and deaths from the virus are increasing as the testing regime begins to kick in. We need to get more tests out into the public faster, but we cannot look at testing as a silver bullet for combating this thing. It seems common sense to assume that "social distancing" will be at least as influential as testing, if not more influential, in slowing the spread of the virus and allowing for proper treatment of those already sick. As we got into this fight late, the numbers will continue to grow for some time, before they begin to flatten. Things are going to LOOK horrific in the next ten days or so, but as long as we all hunker down, continue to remain distanced, and give the healthcare system the tools it needs, we should begin to see favorable trends in the not too distant future.  But for God's sake....stay home.

There is news of great chicanery going on in Congress as our two dysfunctional parties attempt to figure out how to respond to this crisis. You see, that's the first thing. What they should be thinking right now is that they are passing a "disaster relief" measure-- not a fiscal stimulus or economic recovery measure. Yes, those things are part of the total, but what we are trying to do (or should be trying to do) is to use the vast resources of the nation to buy time and space for the medical effort to succeed. The immense social pressures that will accrue if a fifth of our workforce lose their jobs and great calamities continue in businesses small and large, will have devastating impact on the disaster relief effort. A friend of mine Tweeted the following yesterday:

Americans expect and deserve bipartisan teamwork https://t.co/1xVyRHIEsn

— Patrick Cronin (@PMCroninHudson) March 22, 2020

I snarkily (but honestly) responded "All evidence to the contrary". What I meant by that remark was that if Americans truly valued bi-partisan teamwork in times of crisis, they would elect men and women who practice it in times of calm. Compromise and bipartisan problem solving is not valued by our hyper partisan electorate who would rather watch split screen show-ponies on mindless "news" programs from their easy chairs. We get--and have--exactly what we deserve.

On China and COVID-19

There is much in the news these days about the coronavirus and its origins in China. It seems to me, beyond dispute, that like several other instances of feared viruses, this one too came out of the Far East. And while it is "possible" that the virus was the result of a weaponized biological program of the Chinese Peoples Liberation Army (PLA), I rate that possibility as "barely measurable to remote". Why?  Because (if you click the link above and do a minor bit of online research) as I said, a lot of viruses have their genesis in China. It's sorta just the way it is.

So, the virus appears to have started in China, near the City of Wuhan. Accelerating its spread was the fact that many of the Chinese diaspora came back for the Chinese New Year celebration. Some contracted the virus and then returned to their adopted countries bringing the virus with them and infecting local populations.

Also apparently true is that when the virus began to show up in China, the Chinese government and public health systems failed. Here is a decent timeline that shows both mistakes and likely coverup.

So--we have a massive and influential government with a serious viral outbreak making poor and corrupt decisions and statements designed to minimize the public reaction to the seriousness of the virus. And we had what China was doing too.

Ok. Some of you are going to read that last paragraph as a swipe at our federal government. That is exactly how I meant it. Take a look at this timeline. While I realize that what the President is saying is not the sum total of what the federal government was doing, the President's statements and his obvious desire to minimize the impact on markets and his re-election, had an impact on how subordinate departments reacted to the growing crisis.

And now we come to what appears to be the thing that really has the attention of the inattentive, and that is whether calling this virus the "China virus" or the "Wuhan virus" is racist. I think not. Many viruses and sicknesses across time have taken on the names of locations where they started or where there were major outbreaks. This is not a racist construct. I prefer "coronavirus" or "COVID-19", but that is me.

The next question is, is it wise to use the location names? This is a good question, and for some it is an open and shut case. These people believe that since so much of our supply chain for medical supplies and devices comes from China, it is unwise to piss them off. Short of that, these folks believe that a truly international response to this crisis is required, and we shouldn't be worried about a childish schoolyard fight when what we should be doing is defeating the threat.

Ordinarily, I would tend to agree with this.

The thing that makes this a lot harder is that elements of the Chinese government have undertaken a program of propaganda designed to blame the virus on....you guessed it....the United States. This is largely for domestic consumption, but it--along with their massive humanitarian response elsewhere--is designed to seed doubt as to the US as a reliable partner. Is this a response to leaders in the US "blaming" China by using location names for the virus? Would this propaganda push be happening anyway (i.e., if the virus had started elsewhere)?

I don't know the answers to these questions. What I do know is that smart diplomacy is needed in addition to energetic response. I'll keep talking and writing about corona or COVID. I urge you to do so also.

What Will Never Be The Same?

When the virus (that's the way I'm going to talk about it now, casually calling it "the virus" without differentiating it from the thousands of other viruses there are, because you damn well know what I'm talking about) began to rage, and the American system of higher education decided to send our young folks home with vague promises of internet-based instruction with details to follow, I thought to myself that this could be the beginning of the end for the traditional Western university that has had a pretty decent 1200 year run. After all, if we can do this in an emergency (a bug), why couldn't we do it as a practice (feature). Yes, yes, I know, there are already all kinds of internet learning paths...but what I'm talking about here is the "push" that actually brings about the end of one paradigm and the flowering of others. 

So the purpose of this post is to ask, what else is on the chopping block? You can use the comment section if you like.

Here's one. Healthcare. Yes, I know. There's a lot of "distance medicine" going on right now. But think about a day where a small set of computer peripherals hook directly into a mediating software enabling a proper back and forth in real time between a patient and a provider. What percentage of physical visits could be avoided? How much more efficient could the system be? And as we become more accustomed to telemedicine, could whatever regulatory/rent-seeking barriers that continue to carve up the nation's health insurance markets within state lines begin to fall?

Obviously, Amazon has changed our world. But I need Shake and Bake for pork right now. I only have one packet remaining (crisis). A distribution system that brings it to me today, or a system where I could make an order, get in my car, and drive up to a delivery kiosk where my order would be available for pickup based on code I received?  Yes please.

I think the whole "tele-work" thing could explode after this, with more and more Americans working from home. Or--we could find that after studying this period, we all really did just "phone it in" and our productivity went through the floor. Or maybe we find that because people can and do work when they want throughout the day and life, that there is a productivity increase? I don't know...but it will be interesting to see.

COVID 19 and the American System

Not everyone is going to be happy with this post, but I guess that's the nature of the beast. I want to talk a little about "The American System", specifically the oft-maligned (and Constitutionally enshrined) system of "federalism", in which the national (federal) government is vested with specific (enumerated) powers, with remaining powers vested in the "several" states.

I think this is a good system for a number of reasons. As an ideological conservative, my mantra these days is "smart people existed before me". To this end, I think our Founders were a smart bunch of guys (sorry ladies), and they gifted to us a political system of great genius. A good deal of what passes for governance in our everyday lives is state and local, and the degree to which we interact with the federal government each day is actually quite small. This may strike some as an odd thing to say, given how much power and authority has managed to migrate its way to the federal government in the 233 years of our Republic, and given how a nationalized, internet and cable news driven media environment serves to make us feel that all issues are national and that what's happening around us (Talbot County, MD, for instance) is only our little piece of much bigger national trends and narratives.

And then we get a viral pandemic. We turned to our nationalized media. In some cases, that media, acting as a mouthpiece for our national government, misled us. Watch the video embedded in this Tweet--it is breathtaking. 

How Fox News has shifted its coronavirus rhetorichttps://t.co/iWGZqoprvY pic.twitter.com/L9nITMkV6F

— The Fix (@thefix) March 17, 2020

Speaking of that national government, you are not a serious person if you do not believe that the go-to move from the Administration was to minimize the threat, and point (well-deserved) fingers at the Chinese. Watch the video contained in this Tweet too:

https://t.co/uAsrB2DF9k pic.twitter.com/O2tmh9CwQ4

— Barry Rubin (@barubin) March 18, 2020

The funny thing is--as damaging as the slow and stumbling response to the virus from the federal government was, we had fifty other relatively efficient forms of governing happening around the country, and the nation's governors--watching in horror as the feds worried about the stock market and re-election--started making decisions. Now--I don't want to go too far with this. The federal income tax system and the other streams of revenue that the federal government receives pre-determine that it is the most efficient means for centralized resourcing and national response. But utilizing these resources in a coherent response did not happen fast enough because of the government we chose in 2016. State governments have a good deal of resources and tools at their disposal to respond quickly and effectively too, and many have done just that.

What we have in federalism is an insurance policy against bad governing. If--as things are today--we have a feckless presidential administration that ultimately decides to step up its response only after one of their media lackeys turns his criticism on them , strong state responses to disasters (think about Jeb Bush responding to nine hurricanes while in office) can and should mitigate impact. If we have a strong and competent federal government, it can catalyze and coordinate action in concert with governors of energy in order to create truly effective national responses. If one lives in a state with a bad governor right now, I guess the system isn't providing as much solace.

The best of all worlds would have been a competent response from the feds coordinated with competent responses in the states. This may be finally underway, and a truly "federal" system can begin to show its strength.

Signs of Spring

It is a difficult time for all of us. We are in fear and doubt as to what is next and when it will be over. So, let us concern ourselves with what we can count on. Today, that is spring's arrival.  Here are a few photos from around the house to remind us.

The Return of The Conservative Wahoo

This blog has lain fallow for quite some time. It was once a passion of mine. It led to a short-lived internet radio show (before podcasts became all the rage), a good deal of social media exposure, and the small-scale notoriety afforded by the internet to narcissists everywhere. I took full advantage of it and although I often became a slave to it, I enjoyed the writing. I fancied myself a great political thinker and took great pride in that writing, yet time and again, the writing that seemed most likely to resonate across my readership base was everyday stuff.

Then came the election of 2016. I was from the get-go, decidedly against one candidate. That candidate went on to win both the Republican nomination and the Presidency. In the process, I used the blog to vent my spleen and take shots at those I considered to have compromised on whatever principle they once had. I grew more and more disconcerted with people I thought I once knew, and I grew more distant from the blog over time.

Truth be told, Twitter also got in the way. Why would I sit down and write a long form post on something of interest when I could pithily opine away in 144 (and then 288) characters for the instant entertainment of 6000 people? I've pretty much turned all my public writing into Tweets of some sort, with the exception of the Navy related stuff that one or two of you still read.

But things have changed. We are visited by a fast-moving, global pandemic that has caused our various governments to restrain our activities by force, and that has caused our society to exercise self-restraint through public spirit, along with time-honored acts of public shaming. Here in Maryland (for those new to the blog, I live on Maryland's Eastern Shore at the sufferance of a beautiful woman (The Kitten) and her two daughters (The Kittens)), our Governor has closed down most commerce and we are--as one used to hear back in the Navy--sheltering in place. The Kittens were cast out of their womb-like existences in modern university settings, only to land back at home under the command of Obergruppenfuher Momma, whose disciplined approach to social distancing was somewhat more stringent than either had considered.

My social distancing began two-weeks ago, when upon returning from a convention in San Diego early one post-redeye Thursday, I took myself to the local Doc-in-a-Box (from whence comes my "urgent care") feeling god-awful. I brought along a little bag of toiletries and chargers, thinking that I was sure to have the dread COVID 19 virus and would immediately head into immunological prison.  The good news was that it was plain old Influenza A, and since the Kittens were still at school and the Kitten was frolicking among friends elsewhere, I took to my sickbed and began an around the clock regimen of sleep punctuated by big shots of Vicks Nyquil. Always does the trick.

Since then, the virus has exploded and fuller measures have come into practice. We have--as many others have--provisioned ourselves for a long sequester, although I wonder (sometimes aloud, sometimes not) at the various products that find their way into the category of "staples". Somewhere in the last ten years, the number of things calling itself "milk" have proliferated, and there currently resides in the kitchen refrigerator almond milk of several varieties, cashew milk, vitamin D milk (natch), 2 % milk, and half/half. Also something called "Kombucha", which I dare not investigate.

I made the initial victualing run, returning home with pasta, mac and cheese, cans of tuna, bacon, eggs, salad stuff, veggies, etc, along with steak, pork, and chicken. You know. Stuff people survive on. My choices were instantly flagged as insufficient, and several additional runs have occurred since. Our cup runneth over.

I have an office carved out of one of the bays of our garage and the window to my right looks out
over the Miles River upon which The Kitten's house sits. Her people have lived in this part of Maryland for four centuries, and on this particular plot of land for something like seven generations. In my office are my books, a treadmill, some (little used) dumb-bells, a bit of furniture, and a giant flat screen. Ordinarily at this time of year, I would be social distancing in front of the TV watching college basketball, but you know the story there. One of the great regrets I have of this time is that there is no baseball, as it is a later in life goal of mine to once again become a baseball fan. Baseball could fill a lot of this time.

My business is defense consulting, and I can do a good bit of it right here in this office. My clients are also trying to figure out how to deal with all of this, but so far everyone seems to be behaving responsibly. I am determined to do all of the things I have been reading on social media for those who work at home every day. I am showering, dressing in proper button-down shirts, and wearing actual shoes (rather than the dreamy Bean ankle-high shearling slippers in which I generally knock-about. I even shaved today.

So--what is this blog to be? I'm not quite sure. Probably a lot like it was before the 2016 election, with some daily life, some politics, some pop-culture, and some Navy related stuff. Probably a bit of Dafoe's "Journal of the Plague Year". I don't know how long I will keep it up, but as I end this post, I find myself content with its resurrection.