We Cool

The Labor Day parade was probably just as hot as normal, but it felt warmer this year because of the sun. In the past we had watched beneath mature trees that shaded us throughout the parade. This year we started out in the shade, but beneath younger leaves. As the sun crept higher, our group, perhaps a dozen of us, began to splinter. A portion huddled beneath one short tree while part of us sought relief a few feet east. We moved further apart as the parade inched along. By the time we left, nearly a yard full of noon-day sun separated what had once been a single group of parade watchers.

We moved away from each other because of the heat, not out of any desire to part ways, but I couldn’t help but consider the irony of our behavior in light of the numerous office seekers campaigning down the road. Republicans following Democrats, Democrats behind Republicans, often seeking the same office, often not. Talking with each other, amongst themselves, smiling, sweating, walking along the route, shaking hands with folks along the road.

It seems we moved away from each other quickly. I moved my own chair three or so times in ten minutes. I sought shade. It was more comfortable. I wasn’t going to risk a sunburn. In the end, it was easier than sweating.

Speaking of politics and separation, the death of Senator McCain last month seemed testimony to just how far our nation as a whole has splintered. Granted, we have been talking about a cultural and ideological rift for quite some time, but it all seemed more concrete, more vivid, in light of our nation’s schizophrenic and sometimes vitriolic reaction to his passing.

Can we not even get death right anymore?

Shouldn’t this one have been easy? Regardless of your political persuasion, regardless of what you thought of his voting record, a man is dead. He died after a painful struggle with a terrible disease.

A man is dead, and he left behind a family and friends who suffered themselves, through the ordeal of watching his decay and who continue to suffer in his loss. He was a soldier and a senator and he died, so if nothing kind can be said about him, we should just put down our smart phones and go do the dishes or something.

Take a cue from our kindergarten teachers and not say anything at all.

This one should have been easy, but nothing seems easy anymore because of the heat. Nothing seems easy anymore because of the splintering that has been exacerbated in recent years by the endless barking on both sides of the fence, because of our constant social media feeds full of “news” and “un-news” and anger and hate.

Nothing seems easy anymore because of gerrymandered congressional districts that are so far left or so far right that the opposing party doesn’t bother putting candidates on the ballot, where appeasing the base is the only thing that makes any political sense.

Nothing seems easy, but the reality is, it has never been easy. Political heat has been around a long while. Hamilton and Jefferson played nice for a short while, mostly out of regard for their boss, but that lasted a mere season. Soon they also splintered, and we have had at least two political parties slugging it out ever since.

It has never been easy; it certainly wasn’t easy, or comfortable, in Philadelphia during the summer of 1787, when delegates hammered out the details to the Constitution.

It has always been hot. The difference between now and then seems to be one of priorities. The priority then seemed to be creating a sustainable nation, of designing something that would work in the long term for the entire country. Something to make all the blood shed during the Revolution somehow worth it.

The priority now seems to be getting elected and staying that way, regardless of what that actually looks like on television or the internet, and in spite of those who truly sacrificed everything for this country. Long term growth and sustainability has been sacrificed for a short term bump in popularity during our never-ending political season.

Speaking of which, towards the end of the parade, I spotted a candidate I actually knew: Dave Seiler. He and I have known each other for years; two of his kids competed on my scholastic bowl team and his youngest son now sits in my sophomore English class. He noticed me and we shook hands; the parade had come to a lull, so we visited a bit before he walked on down the road.

Dave will make a good legislator, but not because he’s a Democrat. Dave will make a good legislator because he’s smart and he’s honest and he’s willing to work hard. He’s also running for the right reasons, not because he is interested in a career in politics or because he has some ideological axe to grind.

Those are the kind of attributes needed right now, and it seems those are the kind of traits that helped form the nation in the first place.

The reality is, democracy is not cool, and living in a republic is not comfortable. This is because in order for it to function as designed it require effort, not just from those walking in the parade, but also from those on the sidewalks watching. It requires voting, at the minimum; it requires engagement and the hammering out of details.

From our leaders, governing a republic requires sitting together in the sun, despite the heat, and ignoring the urge to slink back into shadows cast by baser instincts.