Presidential Temperament

While I have reservations about both presidential candidates, I am increasingly moving towards this position: Although I disagree with some of Obama's positions (namely, his tendency towards widespread government intervention), I believe he is fundamentally competent, well-intended, intelligent, and reasonable. McCain, on the other hand, has some swell ideas, but seems to be fundamentally temperamental and impulsive (the downside to being a maverick). And that worries me -- a lot. George Will, a conservative columnist, expressed it this way in yesterday's Washington Post:

Conservatives who insist that electing McCain is crucial usually start, and increasingly end, by saying he would make excellent judicial selections. But the more one sees of his impulsive, intensely personal reactions to people and events, the less confidence one has that he would select judges by calm reflection and clear principles, having neither patience nor aptitude for either.

It is arguable that, because of his inexperience, Obama is not ready for the presidency. It is arguable that McCain, because of his boiling moralism and bottomless reservoir of certitudes, is not suited to the presidency. Unreadiness can be corrected, although perhaps at great cost, by experience. Can a dismaying temperament be fixed?

Perhaps. But the White House does not seem the ideal place for such an experiment.

(Here is the link to Will's column.)

Bonding with a Six-Year-Old Boy

The following is an approximate transcript of a deep conversation I had with my nephew tonight on the phone. (To preserve confidentiality, the name has been changed.)

Michael: Aunt Anny, you're a pickle brain! [giggle, giggle]
Anny: You're a tuna-fish head!
Michael: You're a stinky foot! [chortle, chortle]
Anny: You're a pudding brain!
M: You're a chicken head! [snicker, snicker]
A: You're a cream of mushroom soup brain!
M: You're a peanut butter brain! [chuckle, chuckle]
A: You're a ramen noodle head!
M: You're a stinky elbow! [laugh, laugh]
A: You're a . . . uh, uh . . . uh [at a loss for words]
M: (whispers in grave seriousness) Aunt Anny, let's keep our names for each other a secret.
A: O.k.
M: (whispers) It'll be part of our special friendship.

A Case for Blinking: Sarah Palin and the Vice Presidency

When it comes to politics, I am a Republicrat – or if you prefer, a Democrican -- one of those pesky, non-committal Independents. And lest anyone accuse me of being a secret agent of the “Liberal Media,” I am writing solely from the position of a genuinely concerned and conflicted citizen.

It’s no secret that the entry of Sarah Palin to the Republican ticket has stirred up the race in unforeseen and powerful ways. I think Palin is gutsy and smart. It’s refreshing to have a counterpoint to the Hilary Clinton motif of a strong, politically savvy woman. But charisma, passion, and grit don’t necessarily make a person ready to be Vice-President, let alone President. Yes, Palin’s “inexperience” troubles me. But not as much her rhetoric. I find the following excerpt from her recent interview with Charlie Gibson particularly distressing. (http://abcnews.go.com/print?id=5782924)

GIBSON: Governor, let me start by asking you a question that I asked John McCain about you, and it is really the central question. Can you look the country in the eye and say "I have the experience and I have the ability to be not just vice president, but perhaps president of the United States of America?"

PALIN: I do, Charlie, and on January 20, when John McCain and I are sworn in, if we are so privileged to be elected to serve this country, will be ready. I'm ready.

GIBSON: And you didn't say to yourself, "Am I experienced enough? Am I ready? Do I know enough about international affairs? Do I -- will I feel comfortable enough on the national stage to do this?"

PALIN: I didn't hesitate, no.

GIBSON: Didn't that take some hubris?

PALIN: I -- I answered him yes because I have the confidence in that readiness and knowing that you can't blink, you have to be wired in a way of being so committed to the mission, the mission that we're on, reform of this country and victory in the war, you can't blink.
So I didn't blink then even when asked to run as his running mate.

Come now, Governor Palin. You didn’t blink? Perhaps you didn’t question your deep commitment to the country, but didn’t the call to serve cause you to quiver a tiny bit? Honestly – who is ready to step onto the world stage as leader of one of the most powerful and complex nations on earth at a time when the country (not to mention the world) is transitioning precariously into the 21st century? If this position didn’t cause you to shake in your boots, I’m worried about your judgment. Granted, humility is unappreciated in today’s political climate. It might not be politically expedient to admit apprehension. But how about a response something like this: “Of course, I wrestled with this decision. I carefully considered the implications on my family, my state, the nation, and the world. In the end, I made the decision to serve and feel confident in my ability.” Instead, you didn't even blink.

Such uber-confidence has not always been the hallmark of American politics. In his first inaugural address (http://www.nationalcenter.org/WashingtonFirstInaugural.html), George Washington expressed his trepidation this way:

The magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my country called me, being sufficient to awaken in the wisest and most experienced of her citizens a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifications, could not but overwhelm with despondence one who (inheriting inferior endowments from nature and unpracticed in the duties of civil administration) ought to be peculiarly conscious of his own deficiencies.

Washington, who had a depth and breadth of experience unrivaled by most of his peers, was keenly aware of the weightiness and impossibility of the task set before him. His was a wisdom tempered by the refining fires of hard fought battles and complex negotiations. When congress wasn’t properly supporting his troops, he didn’t have the luxury of sweeping in with a grand brush of “reform” (ala fire your enemies and hire your friends). He knew that it took more than a “will to win” to achieve victory against a far superior army. He recognized that uniting diverse peoples, cultures, and economies into a fledgling nation would demand patience, diplomacy, and compromise. In short, he knew the Presidency would test the abilities and characters of even the best of men -- or women, for that matter.

A fundamental facet of wisdom and good judgment is knowing what you don’t know, having at least a sense of the magnitude of the task before you. So far, I don’t see this characteristic in Sarah Palin. And that, my friends, is causing me to blink before I vote.

A Series of Mostly Fortunate Events

(My new living room -- the exotic couch pillows and cattails on the endtable are compliments of Marjorie)

When I was a child, I loved a book about a little girl who had all kinds of adventures. The story went something like this: "Fortunately, Elizabeth got to visit her uncle's farm in the countryside and jump from the barn loft into heaps of hay. Unfortunately, there was a pitchfork in the heap of hay. Fortunately, she barely missed landing on the pitchfork. Unfortunately, she also missed the pile of hay. Fortunately . . . " You get the gist.

The past couple weeks of my life have followed a similar motif.

Fortunately, my dear friend, Cherice, bequeathed me with her lovely apartment when she moved to Utah.

Unfortunately, this means Cherice no longer lives in Michigan.

Fortunately, other kind people stepped in to help me pack and move -- including Marjorie and Ramona who packed up most of my apartment and some of the busiest men from church who kindly volunteered their Saturday morning and brute strength to move my belongings.

Unfortunately, on Saturday afternoon I learned that the woman who had been planning to move into my old apartment (and thus prevent me from having to pay double-rent for September until my lease expired) would not be able to move in after all due to circumstances out of her control.

Fortunately, just as I was about to shrivel up from exhaustion, the sister missionaries called and offered to help me clean the old apartment.

Unfortunately, I now had two apartments: one that was vacant and one that was equally uninhabitable due to mountains of boxes.

Fortunately, Nan and Janice showed up at my doorstep at just the right moments to help me unpack.

Unfortunately, my new apartment -- although spacious, sunshiny, and clean -- was rather boring and austere.

Fortunately, Marjorie helped me hang my pictures and plates and provided a trunk full of home decor items to "punch up" my apartment.

Unfortunately, my super comfortable "punched-up" apartment did not come equipped with a pre-written dissertation.

Fortunately, I have close to a year to write the silly book.

Unfortunately, my laptop was nigh unto death and I could only see the screen if I was in a dark room.

Fortunately, Best Buy had laptops on sale for a very good price.

Unfortunately, my bank account took a third major hit when I received a terse notice informing me that I had failed to pay city taxes in 2005. Ouch! (It was an accident, truly!)

Fortunately, I happen to enjoy rice and beans and consumed them for three days straight, thus saving oodles of money that might otherwise have been spent on groceries.

So you see, all's well that ends well!