The Republican debates . . . Lots of talking, but little insight

This week’s Republican debate sure was a raucous affair, wasn’t it?

Did you learn anything about any of the candidates and their positions on what you’d consider important issues? Can I pick a few? Immigration? Job growth? Taxes? Foreign policy (let’s say in the Middle East)? Military spending? Foreign trade? Canadian maple syrup?

OK, I was kidding about that last one, but I, for one really didn’t learn much. (Besides, I buy New Hampshire maple syrup.) Clearly a few candidates came to beat up on each other, and pretty much all of them beat up in the CNBC moderators. Granted, the questions really weren’t all that insightful and in all the Republican debates, there seems to be more of an interest in encouraging the candidates to squabble than to debate.

As we know from debate class, the debate structure is generally pretty rigid . . . Usually an opening statement, timed answers and responses and a closing statement. Anyone see anything like that so far?

So let’s look at this week’s cage fight . . .

My take? Cruz and others scored points with their supporters by hammering on the press, always an easy target and one that plays well with Republicans and their backers. Cruz scored the most points.

Rubio proved fairly fast on his feet and managed some style points in his jabs with Job Bush, who looked like someone off the set of the Walking Dead. Incredibly unimpressive. He may be able to manage the job, but it’s starting to look like his downtrend is not merely a blip in the polls.

Trump and Carson say a fair bit, but not much of it makes much sense, though I find the contrast in styles rather amusing. Carson will play well in Iowa. And while the voting is still a ways off, and there will be a million ups, downs, withdrawals and TV appearances until then, trends are starting to emerge.Rubio will be tripped up by his past financial dealings. People will eventually tire of Trumps “I know how to fix it” speeches, though these potential primary voters thus far seem more enamored with style than substance. Bush, unless he can turn his sinking ship around and refloat it, will be an afterthought (He just doesn’t seem to have any campaign personality . . . A Republican Al Gore, perhaps.) Cruz is sharp- tongued, but besides riling up his base, he’s offered nothing on the policy side other than to bash Obama at every turn. (I’ll say it again . . . Obama’s not running again . . . he already won twice.)

Huckabee, Jindal, Santorum and probably Graham are bench warmers now, and only Graham has much of a chance (slim) of getting on the big boy’s field. Kasich is probably in the same boat, but still holds appeal with his background and often moderate views. A moderate probably won’t get through the primaries. Carly Fiorina faded fast after her bump following the two previous debates. Her business background will hold back support for her as she tries to carve out her niche. Chris Christie is gaining a bit of traction, but his record in New Jersey will haunt him. 

The fundamental problem Republicans have now is too big a flock of candidates. With each one trying to make a mark and get their 30-second sound bite, the messages are muddled, often too sharp and too pointed. And lack, therefore, much of a policy slant.

One hopes we get debates that showcase policy, issues, and solutions from the candidates. That’s the only way voters can make at least partially reasoned decisions on who they might support.

My fear is that we’ll continue to get more infighting, less discussion and little insight.

The Tea Party has evolved . . . into a loud-mouthed, do nothing movement. Too bad.

I have to admit, on the face of it, the so-called Tea Party sounded like a good idea. A grass roots movement focused on cutting government overspending and reducing the size and waste of the federal government. Sounds good, right?

After all, if we set aside how we think the government should spend its budget (taxpayer money for the most part), we can get behind the idea that money should be spent efficiently and with care. Obviously we all might think differently about governmental departments and spending, but we’ll talk overall spending for a minute, not political differences.

So the Tea Party was born (more or less). The “Tea Party” is actually not a single entity, but a scattering of like-minded groups that started to pop up shortly after Obama was elected as a growing protest over his spending plans. The Tea Party, therefore, has been largely tagged as a Republican-based group. Never mind the fact that government spending spun wildly out of control with George W. Bush in office, and while Republicans held both the Senate and House. Neither party has shown much overall respect for the idea of holding to a budget, unlike nearly every family in America wrestling with their own budgets.

So the government, many people believe, overspends. (We’ll leave that hanging on its own for now . . . with no political inserts or “this department needs more” or “this department’s budget should be cut.”) If we accept that the government does indeed overspend, is apparently incapable of reigning in costs and expenses, and is blindly oblivious to its rising deficits, then maybe, so the theory went, we need a movement to stop those things.

Therein lies, at least in theory, the seed for the growth of the Tea Party. Even if we skip over growing evidence that the idea of a Tea Party movement was first proposed by the Koch brothers (in 2002) as a way to cut government regulation (therefore business costs) and (paraphrasing) “return the country to its citizens by cutting government and its influence,” the ideal idea seemed like a good one. Sounds good, but the ultimate goals seemed to be, at that point, more about improving their business environment than improving the federal budgeting process.

But when it started to rise, the multi-headed beast that became the Tea Party as we know it today, took on the added weight of pushing a “conservative” social agenda.

That approach grew. Now what once was supposed to be a non-social agenda movement has evolved into what many see as a radical conservative pocket of political discontent, willing to shut down the government over funding Planned Parenthood based on manipulated videos and despite the fact that no investigation has shown any wrong-doing regarding the use of fetal tissue. A political issue . . . not a financial issue. This evolution has in part killed the political discussions, debate and policy creation that marked much of our history.

An ebb and flow, compromise and debate is now yelling, screaming, threatening, posturing, political roadblocks and a stalled political process. On both sides.

It’s a shame, really. Many movements start with a goal in mind, but that can change quickly. Any “let’s cut government over spending” soon becomes let’s cut this and that, but not this. The movement starts to pick and choose what it wants cut . . . let’s cut the EPA or Department of Education, but not the military . . . or, oh, no, we can’t possibly make changes to Social Security or Medicare . . . and on and on. These are fake conservatives . . . thoughtless, uninspired, and under producing.

Throw in a rigid social agenda (which has not a thing to do with government spending) and you have a movement that has evolved into nothing more than a narrow focused entity (or a flock of entities) that creates nothing, has no policy direction or solutions to challenges that most Americans see as important . . . jobs, education, taxes, income, retirement and immigration . . . and now merely shouts demands. 

Too bad. There used to be a working political process. It wasn’t perfect, but it usually worked.

My garden is changing the way I live and how I think of food

Now I know I’ve been flogging the subject of canning on my Facebook page for most of the last month, but I have to tell you it really changed the way I look not only at food, but also gardening.

The container garden on my deck did pretty well this summer, and I’m plotting my strategy for next year . . . going through the seed catalogs and online sites. We’ll limit the varieties next year and focus on the fresh veggies and then the veggies I’ll can.

That means cucumbers for bread and butter pickles, peppers for pepper relish and pepper jelly and tomatoes for fresh salads and then roasting and freezing. My applesauce came from the apples on the tree in my front yards. I finally lost the apple tree in back this summer after years of cracking trunks and branches. The last of the four major trunks gave up the ghost this summer in a storm. But it managed to survive a lot of cold winters.

So the deck garden is done, though I need to pull the remaining evidence of dead plants from many of the containers.

I’ve planted some garlic and will plant some onion sets this week. The garlic and onions went in a raised planting table and a bunch of soft-sided containers that I’ll tuck under the bench on the far end of the deck. Hopefully they’ll winter over and I’ll have onions and garlic by late July.

The process of growing a few vegetables that give me great salads and cooking ingredients has changed the way I look at food, and canning some things at the end of the season stretches that into the months when nothing’s growing out on that snow-covered deck. So when I open a jar of bread and butter pickles I made, or spread some pepper jelly over a block of cream cheese and serve it to visitors, there’s a sense of satisfaction that’s new to me.

Oh, I love cooking for people, so this is an extension of that, really. It’s taking a few little things and adding to that. Let’s not go crazy here . . . my little container garden isn’t grand or cutting edge or even very efficient. I’m working on some of those things.

But watching the bees and the hummingbirds zip from flower to flower, staying just a split second on a squash blossom before moving to the red salvia flowers planted in the container with bush beans and radishes, then darting to a few tomato blossoms before flying off is exciting to watch, and it’s exciting to think about next year and how to make it all better.

As the leaves fall and the weather starts to turn, I’ll glance out onto the deck, most of the containers and beds covered with tarps, and think about how I can set everything up next year to make sure I maximize the space, but also how I’ll make sure to have plenty flowers for the bees and hummingbirds, and plenty of veggies to enjoy through the season and then spend the late summer and early fall carefully filling those little jars with goodies that I’ll enjoy when the snow flies.

Biden's out, but the game remains the same

Joe Biden’s out before he got in, and while that may disappoint some Democrats who had encouraged the vice president to throw his hat into the campaign cage fight, it really won’t change the game much.

Hillary Clinton’s negative ratings are her Achilles' heel . . . People may like the idea of Hillary, and support most of her pretty moderate positions, but there’s a huge swath of voters (Democrats included), who just think she’s a touch too entitled, a touch too methodical, a touch too practiced, a touch too aloof, a touch too predictable, and a touch too untrustworthy. That’s not good, but she’ll carry the Democratic flag into the final rounds with what is now a fractured Republican gaggle of potential presidential hopefuls.

The Republicans will sort it all out, of course, and the race, filled with ever louder shouting, probably lots of personal attacks and dicey political promises.

Republicans will vote for the Republican candidate, and Democrats will vote for the Democratic candidate . . . at least for the most part. The real battle will be for the middle . . . either end of the parties is spoken for, or at least caught in the sticky trap their parties have set for them.

Donald Trump continues his campaign of loud railing against seemingly everything not Trump, while Ben Carson is picking up steam with his quiet demeanor and soft-spoken ramblings. Unfortunately, neither one is qualified to be president. Neither has any idea of working policies and both have presented ideas that may register on the far-right rhetoric radar, but are either undoable or wrong-minded. Read their words and if you can scrape off the hateful stuff (like defunding colleges that are “too political,” or spending a trillion dollars on not only a wall along our border with Mexico but also along the Canadian border), you see there's not much there.

But that, of course, is the appeal. Lots of talk and as little concrete solutions. Trump has been a master, hitting on virtually every hot spot on the scared white middle class list . . . though carefully avoiding specifics. What about income inequality? Health care solutions beyond killing the Affordable Care Act? Tax system reform? Corporate tax loopholes? And on and on . . . nothing really.

Bush, Kasich, Fiorina and the others are trying to build policy statements, but they’re getting drowned out by the Trumpster, and their poll numbers show they aren’t hitting with voters. Voters right now aren’t interested in solutions, they’re interested in venting their frustrations. Pundits have been wrong about Trump for months . . . he hasn’t faded.

One hopes that will change as the primaries begin and voters start calling for substance. Trump and Carson spewing nonsense . . . Hillary’s robotic march to whatever her destiny may be . . . Bernie’s populist groundswell that continues to swell . . . and the rest of the current bench warmers who hopes some of the starters falter so they can get into the game.

There comes a moment when we choose to live . . . to really live

It’s funny what we remember. 

Sometimes it’s little things and sometimes bigger things. But I’m always surprised at the little snippets we retain. I traveled to Hong Kong with my family when I was 12. On the way to the hotel from the airport, a man was hit by a taxi and thrown high in the air. He came down on his knees, hands together and head bowed in prayer when he landed. Our taxi moved on.

We move on, too. If we get stuck in the past, or stuck unable to reconcile our past, then we are forever frozen. We’re creatures that ultimately need forward movement if we are to survive and prosper. Our lives are an ebb and flow, but over time we need that forward movement. If we get stuck for too long, our lives devolve and we begin to lose our perspective not just on the future, which in our mind disappears, but also on the present, where we begin to limit our contacts and exposure, perhaps to limit our vulnerability or because we feel the only way we can survive is to turn into ourselves, a cocoon . . . fooled into thinking we’re warm and protected.

It’s an illusion. We’re weaker alone.

As the things we once held dear and important begin to fall away, like untended plants sitting alone in a corner, we find ourselves less tolerant, shorter with others and more determined insulate ourselves. But after a while we begin to die. The things that made us strong no longer interest us. Our friends have waited patiently for us to return, but we don’t. Sometimes we lash out at them, as if our floundering is their fault. It happens when we can’t see ourselves clearly. At its worst, we slap away the hands of those reaching for us.

Sooner or later those hands recede into the clouds of our isolation.

Isolation, depression, and either we grab for those hands, refocus, and feel the strong grips of those who have helped us and strengthened us before, or we baste in our own misery, thinking it isn’t misery, just a need to be alone. But we’ve stopped moving forward and aren’t making peace with our past, or reconciling our missteps, closing those doors behind us and taking responsibility for ourselves and how we’ve lived. We’re dying and don’t even know it.

There comes a moment . . .

Our past will always be with us. We all wrestle with that. Only when we take the time to slam those doors and move on, though, are we really living. That’s the moment we choose to live.

You need to take the time to tell them, "I love you"

Words mean different things at different times, don't they? . . . 

For instance . . .

I love you.

Good-bye.

I have friends who never say "good-bye," thinking it's too final.
But sometimes we have to, sooner or later. We say good-bye to people we love and used to love, kids heading off to college, relationships lost . . .

But take heart . . .

I love you.
Good-bye.
See you soon.

Just remember the "I love you," because you never know if you'll see them again. Take that moment to make a call, have lunch, make time. Make time to share those moments and tell them, "I love you." 

I stood over his grave and whispered . . .

I love you.
Good-bye.

Take the time to enjoy the Fall color show . . . The closing of a chapter

Fall’s here, and the wonderful colors are coming soon. Don’t let it pass by without pausing and taking it all in. For many, it’s the most beautiful time of year.

It really is a color show here in New England when the leaves start to turn from green to yellow, orange and red. Sometimes we take these things for granted and just kind of notice them but don’t absorb them. This year, take some extra time to soak it all in.

I had a friend years ago who passed away, but she told me as she was dying to take the time every year to enjoy the daffodils . . . because we never know when we’re seeing them for the last time.

We have enough regrets in our lives . . . things we could have done better, or made better, or perhaps people and things we should have enjoyed more or with whom we should have spent more time or loved more. 

Then it’s all gone. And it’s too late to fix.

Fall, then, is the closing of a chapter and the opening of another chapter. Perhaps we should use nature's chapters as a way to close some of ours as we go along.

So the colors come and go every year. Some years are “better” than others, but every year is beautiful.

It’s a last blast of color before winter sets in, with its multiple shades of grey coloring the landscape. Snow covering those leaves you didn’t finish raking. Cold piercing your skin as you make your way to the mailbox. Piles of snow blocking the front door.

Enjoy the time. Enjoy the beauty around you and take it all in. Be happy you’re still here to enjoy it.

We are blessed to have the friends we have because they make us better

We surround ourselves with all types of people, don't we?

Some friends are warm and fuzzy, others are rather stand-offish until they warm up a bit . . . shy friends, bold friends, loud friends, even obnoxious friends . . . Some people who call themselves friends but never seem to come through when friends are needed. Fair weather friends.

My friends saved my life, so I embrace them.

But sometimes as we go through life we see that some really aren't friends at all . . .  They begin to suck the strength out of us, so instead of standing tall and strong, we begin making decisions based not on what's good for us and good for our overall core group, but all the while hoping that he or she will change, become a bit more of a giver . . .

"They can meet me half way, can't they?" Turns out some just can't. Their words are often the right words, but their actions never are. You find they try to manipulate gatherings and get-togethers and maybe even don’t want to share time with one or more of your other friends at a dinner out. “Oh I don’t like that place, why don’t we go here?” . . . or  . . . “Sarah’s coming? . . . Oh.” Always planting a negative seed of one sort or another.

After a while of hoping, discouragement sets in, we begin to lose our strength because we are spending so much time worrying about this one person that all else begins to fall by the wayside. We cling and hope, wishing for the better times that have long since passed. A time when maybe we didn't see as clearly as we do now. A time when we were stronger than we are now. We fall to a knee, blood draining from us from our wounds . . .

The battlefield seems to move in slow motion around us. We feel lost.

The words of the taker screech through our heads. We hesitate . . . but know now we've hesitated too long, and calling on our strength, we mortally wound the taker. We're damaged and sad, but we rise to our feet and feel the freeness . . .

We weave in and out of friendships. The dynamic changes. Friends move away, get married, find new lives . . . Though sometimes friends just disappear and we have no clue as to why. Oh well. Their loss. . . . Ebb and flow is a natural process.

The taker, though, seems to just hang on, tries to soothe us, the words perfect . . . But we know now the words are false, and our sword pierces the taker's heart. We feel a pain in ours, but we know it will heal and we're stronger now . . . We step away . . . and eventually the friend steps away and the distance is obvious. Sometimes we need to do what is best for us. We are, after all, surrounded by those who encourage us, make us better and share a closeness with us that nothing can take away. But then there are those who, for whatever reason, choose not to be a part of our lives any longer, who decide what they want is more important than what everyone else wants . . .

We have all had people in and out of our lives like that. Think of the hoards of friends and hangers on we had in high school and college.

We raise our blood-soaked sword to the sky as our friends rally around us . . .  They make us stronger. They protect us. They lift us up. They help us endure. And they are there with us . . . always. They love us, scars and all. We're older and wiser now, better focused on true friendships.

We'll live because we we are more loved . . .  And our friends saved us.

My gardening season comes to an end as Fall descends

The gardening season here in New Hampshire is coming to an end. No frost at my place yet, but nights have been into the low 40s, so it’s coming soon.

Picked most everything left the other day, except for a few green tomatoes and some lettuce.

It was a relatively good year for my little container garden on the deck . . . Lots of tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, green beans and radishes and some herbs. My summer squash and cucumbers didn’t do well . . . drowned early in the season in self-watering pots, along with my green onions, so next year I’ll make sure all the self-water reservoirs are taken off the pots in the Spring and won’t plant the squash so packed together. I tried to push the space of some plants, and squash is one I won’t next year. I had great squash and zucchini last year.

But the tomatoes and peppers more or less made up for the lack of squash and cucumbers. I planted too many varieties, but it was worth seeing what did well. Cherry tomatoes were like candy and the larger tomatoes I planted worked well in salads. I live alone, so ended up with a bunch of extras, so I roasted and then froze them to be turned into sauce this winter . . . or maybe added to chili.

I think some of the peppers will end up in my bread and butter pickles as well as some relish, and the rest frozen for this winter.