Veteran's Election Day

 I served in the military.  I'm a voter.  These duel roles are emphasized by the fact that Veteran's Day will take place three days after the election.

In a convoluted way, I spent my time in Vietnam and in other duty stations so that we could hold an election on November 8th.  With this in mind I'm half thinking I wasted my tour.

There are many reasons men and women enlist.  Some of mine were altruistic, but I can see that joining the armed forces had to do with defending a way of life.  

Wearing the uniform meant I believed in everyday freedom.  That our country offered enough peace and stability so that we simply went about our lives using reason to guide our actions.  That laws and customs mirrored rational behavior.  True, there were tensions.  Discrimination and antisemitism were (and remain) pressing issues.  But people got along well enough to maintain a calm, generally courteous or at least orderly demeanor in the public square.  

They tamed or channeled their political doubts into the election process, assumed stability and went about their lives, expressing opinions when it felt appropriate to do so.

I was defending some other things, too.  

Accumulated knowledge, for one.  The concept that intelligent individuals and institutions of higher education were taking the time to examine the past and think about the future.  That science and history and philosophy were real.  Genuine.  Worthy of respect.  Necessary.  Helpful.  

That credibility was earned.  Opinions were not facts.  And though people were entitled to believe whatever they wanted, some opinions, those backed by evidence, by a consensus of the learned, the experienced, the seasoned, were generally more valuable and useful than those held by mere mob sloganeering.  By know nothings who spouted the latest peer group mantras.

I was defending the long haul.  A positive arc.  Progress that saw my grandmother and her cohort benefit from Social Security.  Without realizing it, I was helping to sustain the Food and Drug Administration -- uncontaminated food and water.  The Public Health Service - I knew some kids with polio and felt the enthusiasm and relief of the community, of the entire country, when the vaccines were administered.  

As a child our family regularly traveled south from New York into overt segregation.  The separate bathrooms and water fountains in railroad stations that mandated color conscious waiting areas.  The failures and successes of the NAACP, CORE, Southern Christian Leadership Conference, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee.  The marches, the riots.  The Kennedy assignation and the orderly transfer of power.  All of this was part of contemporary history when I walked into the recruiting center and signed up for military service.

Resistance and progress; the opening up of society.  An array of life styles and cultures.  The energized and more accepting patchwork of neighborhoods and individuals expanding over time.  

I recall that Times Square was more than the heart of Broadway.  I'd regularly passed demonstrations against nuclear weapons testing.  Later saw test bands enacted.  The country looked and felt as if it was becoming a safer place.  Back then.  When I put on the uniform.

The individuals who protested weapons of destruction were part of a group calling itself The Committee for a SANE Nuclear Policy (SANE).  They wanted what we all seemed to want, a safer, saner world.  That was then.  Now feels like an unraveling.  A miscalculation. 

I just sent in my ballot so I guess a glimmer of hope remains deep within.  Feels kind of lonely.

////

Charles is the author of Baffled Again and Again.  He was awarded the Bronze Star.

Getting Ready to vote

 

Politically at Sea in a Divided Time

These days there would seem to be a long supply of political outrage chasing a short supply of perspective.

I’m trying to figure out where I fit in.

I consider myself thoughtful. But obviously thinking about options, alternatives, solutions, is meaningless if I don’t get myself into forward gear. At this point, I’m more thoughtful than useful. Like many people, including most of my friends, I’m looking for a little inspiration.

The middle-class liberal/progressive inclination, may I speak for my brethren, is to write a check and get back to inertia. We’ve had too many expectations come to nought. We are leery. Wasn’t Barack Obama’s presidency going to lead to expanded brotherhood? Wasn’t Joe Biden’s supposed to bring practical know-how back to the helm?

If I hear one more cable TV commentator proclaim that the latest investigation could, should, might, may, possibly will, send an offender to jail, I swear I’ll give network news another try. I’m looking for results, not pipe dreams.

I believe the police should be funded.

I believe the police should be accountable.

I believe it is reasonable for voters to provide identification.

I believe voters should have maximum access to casting ballots, and that their selections should count.

I believe responsible, trained, licensed adults should be allowed to own guns that shoot one bullet per pull of a trigger.

I believe entire enclaves of people who know better, locked self control and decency in a back room and have gone stark raving mad.

When I was a child, my parents feared that Saturday morning television-cowboys were introducing the concept of violence into my fragile, maturing mind. Actually, the fighting was so mundane and over so quickly that compared to current levels of entertainment-brutality, those klutzy, two-fisted Western heroes qualified for Nobel peace prizes.

Their guns, by the way, were referred to as “six-shooters.” If applied presently, the term would mean 6 violent, crazy young males taking out inferiority complexes on the world, with their despicable behavior underwritten by QAnon.

I’m a believer in the two types of freedom. Negative -- the freedom from unwarranted restraints. That would include restraints on forms of personal behavior that cause no harm to others.

And positive freedom -- reasonable limitations that keep instigators from interfering with the ordinary, everyday functions of life. You know, going about our days without worrying our kids, neighbors or ourselves will get shot.

I believe in privacy. No one needs or is entitled to know what I think, feel, dream, or do within my home, or elsewhere for that matter, as long as I obey the laws and practice courtesy and common sense.

I’ve heard the Thomas Supreme Court’s argument that if the founding fathers didn’t make it an unenumerated right, then it is not foundational.

Well, know what’s not in the U.S. Constitution? The right to outlaw abortion.

Still, I do wish there were fewer unwanted pregnancies.

I’m hoping for a quirky turn in the bumpy road that will reveal a smoother path. And that the route will meander through town picking up great ideas from the various communities it encounters.

So, what am I?

A moderate?

A liberal?

An old-school conservative?

If, God forbid, William F. Buckley and Elizabeth Warren had a baby (sorry Elizabeth), they would call me “son.”

Charles E. Kraus is a writer and children’s entertainer who lives in Seattle. A Vietnam veteran who earned a Bronze Star, he is the author of “Baffled Again .. and Again”.

I'm thinking about buying a gun

I'm thinking about purchasing a gun.  That's how bad things have gotten. The last trigger I pulled was in Vietnam, and even during the war, my particular M16 was mainly used for target practice.  Basically, I profile as an anti-gun, pro-vaccine old school liberal.  But I'm also a realist. Times have changed.  Buffalo is the latest example.

I've always stood on the side that supports social justice, licensed weapons, and 'educating up' those who have not signed on to common sense.  Perhaps I've been naive.  Look around.  Our approach to advancing equality and civilized behavior hasn't proved particularly effective.  Racism and antisemitism are on the rise. So is gun violence.  Buffalo is the latest example.

Hot heads have acquired more and more weapons while us non-violent types stand around attempting to pass watered down, compromised legislation to shape and restrict militarization of the Commons.  More than 81 million American adults own 393 million firearms.  Of all the civilian firearms, in all the world, American civilians own about one-third.  I'm betting very few of them belong to anyone from my side of the political divide.  None of my friends own anything more powerful than a cellphone. Yes to gun restrictions.  But do you really expect citizen militia to pay attention to them?  How about crazy eighteen-year-olds packing assault weapons and wearing body armor?  Buffalo is the latest example.

Politicians, government employees, poll watchers, teachers who dare to provide facts about our country's checkered past, citizens standing up for better angels, and just plan us, people going about our lives.  We represent families, careers, homes, futures, that have been put on the line, today, right now, by bellicose, gun totting, intimidating cultists, by copycat lone wolfs with access to a nation-wide candy store of weaponry, acting in solidarity with other mass murderers to spread hate.  Buffalo is the latest example.

According to reports, the Buffalo killer wrote that he got his white nationalist ideology “mostly from the internet.” The governor of New York lambasted social media for malevolently influencing hate crime perpetrators such as this kid who drove to the supermarket with a list, a to-do list, of carnage and mayhem.  Social media can become accomplices, she told the press.  "Not legally, but morally."  Feel reassured?  Feel like the government has a handle on violence?  Is capable of keeping you and your family safe?

I'm fully aware that weaponizing the left is an awful idea.  I can visualize shootouts in the streets.  Sporadic battles unraveling society, demoralizing responsible citizens, causing even more uncertainty in what passes for the status quo.  

But, I'm wondering, does the time come when ineffective laws, hypocritical politicians, cumulative violence, racist rampages, bring us to our senses?  And if not, does this carnival of bedlam provoke a more instinctual response? 

Let’s be organized, ethical, responsible, and savvy.  We all understand why.  Buffalo is only the latest example.

We will not be replaced -- by infantile wannabes.

Charles E. Kraus in the author of Baffled Again .. and Again, a collection of essays.

Aging politicians

 

 

Seattle Times  - Opinion

Moments of magic in the chaos of the Vietnam War

March 25, 2022 at 11:57 am Updated March 25, 2022 at 11:57 am

  

Charles Kraus entertains three young boys with one of his magic coin tricks in Da Nang, Vietnam, in 1967. (Courtesy of Charles Kraus)

By Charles E. Kraus

Special to The Times

For the past 60 years or so, my calling has been to mystify audiences and make people smile; especially kids. About a year of that time was spent in Vietnam. Officially, the military had me down as an enlisted man who’d signed up for a hitch in the Navy and had gotten himself attached to MCB 71, a Mobile Construction Battalion, the Seabees. 

John Wayne had starred in a movie, “The Fighting Seabees.” The poster showed him with a hammer in one hand and a machine gun in the other. We participated in war by building things rather than destroying them but were trained to do both. Outfitted in military fatigues, we attended Escape and Evasion School, learned to use our M16s, practiced throwing grenades and even took a lesson in firing anti-tank weapons. We honed these skills in Camp Lejeune, training with the Marines. Then, off to Chu Lai. It was 1967. I think I was the only one in the battalion who took along props for a stage show.

These were brutal days, though the horrific Ukraine-Russia war has changed my perspective about what we went through. Some 4,431 Americans were killed in the Iraq War. And 58,220 Americans died in Vietnam. I guess we’ll eventually total up the current conflict. 

I spent much of my time in Vietnam performing shows. Some for military units in the area and some for children. Mostly, I’m a kid-show guy. Born with an ability to help distract children who are enduring traumatic events, getting them to refocus, albeit, for a few moments, on cheerful bewilderment. In this case, my magic tricks.

Some of my in-country entertaining was spontaneous. The streets of Chu Lai were filled with military and civilian vehicles — trucks, motor bikes, transports, rushing about in a nonstop frenzy. Commercial sheds (stores) were mixed in with massive tented areas that serviced troops — bivouacs filled with activity, all day, all night, the pandemonium blending ground-level racket with Skyhawks and other jets taking off and landing every few minutes. The concept of noise abatement had yet to be invented.

Children wandered through this chaos trying to go about their lives. When I could, I’d gather a little crowd and compete with the bedlam. Coins appearing and disappearing. Sponge rubber balls changing color. Silk scarves magically unknotting themselves. Even in Da Nang, which maintained an element of civility, war turned everyone into cautious, suspicious, fearful beings in need of a little diversion. 

I was a delivery man, passing out synthetic wonder to children who would have benefited from actual wonder. My performances provided a touch of relief for the kids and for the magician. Pretty tense times.

Sleight-of-hand magic turned out to be one of those universal art forms. Just as music can be appreciated by people around the world, an illusion that defies the laws of science can create an instinctual “wow!” And so, when orphaned children subjected to a war’s depravity surrounded the platform and watched the impossible being performed with a smile, sometimes the smile got returned. 

Sages

By Charles Kraus

Sages:  Rachel is back.  Tucker is unvaccinated.  Jen Psaki is moving on.  Jeffrey Toobin is keeping his hands on the table.  Who guides us as we stumble forward trying to survive the cumulative effects of the past?

As newborns, we are handed a packet of assumptions that we spend our lives scrutinizing.   Our parent's beliefs, our community's norms, social and religious canons. It is assumed we will feel, think and live these hand me downs.  Find them to be accurate pictures of reality.  Rock solid doctrine.  

Some of us have doubts.

Though my father never explicitly stated so, his motto was, always believe everything you read as long as it supports your point of view.  I took a look at that when I was about twelve and thought I'd try another approach.  One thing I found was that seeking truth was an aspirational goal.

I tend to favor mainstream points of view, the established scientific and historical pronouncements.  Who am I to question the experts?   I sign on, but with a caveat, a realization that lending support to such opinions is like making purchases from Costco.  I can take things back or exchange them whenever I want to.  I am, after all, espousing other people’s educated guesses, tainted with unavoidable bias and the limits of knowledge in its current state.

Religious and political charlatans build careers and movements by working persuasion and emotion.   Genuine experts, on the other hand, are well versed in facts and context.  What they know didn't arrive on carts of ethereal revelation.  Knowledge is verifiable, accruing and interlocking.  Though, of course, I keep in mind that each side in a lawsuit calls experts to the witness stand, and we get second opinions from doctors because medical diagnosis and treatment plans are not always formulaic.  

These days, most movers and shakers have resumes.  Bona fides.  Certificates of graduation.   An informal biographical survey of contemporary authority brings up a handful of alma maters. Stanford, Yale, and Harvard seem to have influenced more critical thinking than the King James Bible.  Do the names Elon Musk, Larry Page, Bill Gates, ring a bell?  How about Hillary Clinton, George W.H.. Bush, Paul Krugman, John F. Kennedy, and Michael Bloomberg?  Once upon a time they were matriculated at these universities.  And just to complicate matters, I'll throw in Ron DeSantiss, Ted Cruz, and Peter Thiel, gradates from Harvard and Stanford. People show up at the library with a notion of the books they want to borrow.  We are not all working from the same syllabus. Perhaps there is a difference between profound wisdom and grade point average.

I pick and choose my sages by their well reasoned arguments, and the caliber of their endorsements.  Folks who resort to outrage, to rhetorical gamesmanship, name calling, denials of reality, who are more interested in rights than responsibilities, can leave the room by the back door, please.  I'm not interested in watching them conflate temper tantrums with persuasive arguments.  

My kids attended a school where the philosophy for conducting one's self boiled down to a motto:  Curtsy and Common Sense.  I wish I'd gone to that school.  I wish all of us had.

The Uncover Up

 The Uncover Up

By Charles E. Kraus

They gathered on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.  I thought about it.

I'm a rather average member of my community.  Not particularly well off. More self educated than formally educated.  Family man.  I like that last description best.  I vote.  Try to do my share.  Attempt to be empathetic.  But, I believe I'm running out of empathy.  The world is just too exasperating, and I'm overcome by displeasure.  The final straws are Covid related,  Not Covid itself.  If I can put my hand on any one culprit, I'd say it is Covid-ignorance. I'm thinking about those who react foolishly and selfishly to this contagious, sometimes deadly, disease.

So many people who I talk with are tired of excusing anti-vaxxers. Is it that difficult to be sensible?  Poor, confused, misled, undereducated, well meaning souls that have gone astray -- that’s one way to look at them.  In the alternative — uncaring, irresponsible, illogical, unneighborly folks, disinterested in reality and willing to gamble with their own lives and the lives of others on the erroneous theory that science is junk.  

Wearing a mask is too uncomfortable?  That uncomfortable?  Every three year old I see walking down the street with mom has managed to overcome the awkwardness.  Do you find using an NR95 so demeaning you'd rather reveal your nose than help protect mankind?  Let me tell you, I've seen your nose, and keeping it covered enhances your profile.  

Social Philosopher Eric Hoffer’s book, 'The True Believer,’ published in 1951, describes the psychological roots of fanatical groups. The benefits bestowed on membership include a sense of power that comes from being obsessed and disruptive.  True Believers don’t need facts, they need causes.  Facts are mundane, nuanced, boring.  Causes are exciting.  Putting a thumb in society’s eye can finally make life meaningful. 

Perhaps you are one of those independent anti--vaxxers whose developed concerns about how Bill Gates plans to use the vaccine's secret infinitesimal microchips to send subliminal messages to your subconscious.  Conspiratorial little whispers. "Choose sanity."   That kind of thing.  It's a moot point.   Back off.  Gates has recently removed the chips from Pfizer and Moderna, and is now hiding them in Hershey chocolate bars.   You thought those were almonds?

To unmask the unmasks, I'll tell you their dirty little secret. They believe in post-covid medical intervention.  Why else would deniers head to the hospital AFTER they contract Covid? Evidently, deep down, they know and have known all along that science is their best bet. They're just parsing the particulars.  

People have to work hard to ignore natural survival instincts.   Spotting a runaway truck headed in your direction sends you into a fight or flight response (in this case, I'd suggest flight).    Spot a virus heading in your direction -- well, you know what you are supposed to do.  Take precautions.  Look over possible responses and choose those that seem to have the best odds.  Bravado is not one of them.

What you are not supposed to do is pretend your intuition outweighs reason.