Pandemic Journal, July 17, 2020

 

mark@marktreble.com

 

Pandemic Journal, July 17, 2020

 

Hwy there. Obviously, I’m not Logan or Tommy. You might have seen me on the basketball court occasionally over the last year. My name’s Ralph Robles, and this is Becca, my better half. My much better half, in fact.

 

The other two guys are out at a hospital emergency room to help one of the boys in Tommy’s group for at-risk teenagers. I’m not going to tell you his name or answer any questions, except to say that his parents don’t speak much English. The guy’s father came unglued when he caught the kid kissing another boy, and beat him unconscious. His mother called Tommy from the ER. I’ll let you know more if I learn anything else.

 

There’ are a bunch of messages piling up. We’ve got one from, oh, it’s from Coach. Let’s see here, “How did you dumb co …. mother …… people manage to miss the playoffs this year?” Well, Coach, I guess we needed you to guide us. Not like we didn’t have the highest-scoring team in basketball this year, and without the last-minute rule changes we’d have been fine. Anyway, I thought you were retired already.

 

Here’s one from Samuel T. in Florida. It’s for Becca. “Do you put out?” I gotta tell ya, Sammy, does she ever. You oughtta be here when the four of us get going. Man, it’s like nothin’ you’ve ever experienced. All three of us at once. What? It’s a joke, babe, don’t you see I’ve got the mute button pressed? Whaddaya mean, that’s not the mute button. Oh, shit. Listen, Tommy and Logan will be back next week. Stay safe. 

 

 

Attitudes toward race relations in the U.S.

 mark@marktreble.com

 

Under another of my names I have begun guest blogging on Dangerous Intersection, owned by a liberal atheist who is a friend. The most sensitive topic in the U.S. is race relations, and I am not afraid to tackle it. I marched and attended sit-ins in the 1960s in support of civil rights and voting rights. My views have changed only slightly, most significantly in coming to understand that Liberal, Leftist, Democrat and Progressive are not synonymous. The distinguishing mark of a Liberal is tolerance. That trait is, in my opinion, not shared by Leftists, who tolerate no deviation from leftist orthodoxy. 

The following was published recently on Dangerous Intersection.

 

When U.S. Race Relations Soured

I recently read a thread on another forum in which 100 out of 140 posts declared that we became a divided nation under Trump and it was Trump’s fault. I then found Gallop data that tracked opinions on race relations historically. I found it fascinating. What jumped out at me was the legacies of the last two presidents, when things began to fall apart, and the disappearance of the “No Opinion” response.

Obama, who took office in 2009 inherited a relatively united country from Bush. A majority of both blacks and whites felt similarly that race relations were “very/somewhat good.” When Obama left office, a majority of both races felt that race relations were no longer “very/somewhat good.” Things started falling apart around 2013 and the downward trend line simply continued under Trump. Over time, the number of people expressing no opinion shrank to near-zero.

The lines moved in parallel. Even when the gap reached 20% in 2007, both groups were still positive. Joe Biden will inherit a divided nation. If we focus on blame without understanding that this trend began in 2012, we will not reunite.

 

I understand that attitudes on racism are extremely complex. That said, my first significant indication of coming trouble was John Lewis’s characterization of John McCain in 2008 as a “racist.” I had always respected both men, and although by then I was becoming accustomed to hearing Democrats cut off debate by pointing at the nearest white Republican and yelling, “Racist!,” that was unlikely to apply to McCain. He had matured in the US military, arguably one of the least racist institutions in the country.

 

My second indication came in 2011, when prominent civil rights leaders repeatedly proclaimed that the only reason to disagree with Obama was racism. His approval rating at inauguration was 70%. Less than three years later it was in the low 40s. One-quarter of Americans had become racists in very short order, apparently.

 

Bureau of Justice Statistics is not, IMO, intentionally obfuscatory, it’s simply standard bureaucratic denseness. It’s difficult to tease out, but the numbers don’t support a narrative of black victimization at the hand of whites. Interracial violence is unusual, and while black-on-white crime is more common than the inverse, it’s still relatively rare.

 

In 2014 Michael Brown was shot and killed by white police officer Darren Wilson in self-defense. The “hands up, don’t shoot” false narrative came out of this. Some forty FBI Agents were dispatched to Ferguson, Missouri, and three White House representatives attended the funeral. The town of Ferguson was seriously damaged and the “Ferguson Effect” was born, with police officers hesitant to approach black suspects not for fear of being shot, but for fear of criminal charges.

 

Events occurring during the Obama presidency put U.S. race relations on a downward track. Trump, to his discredit, has only made things worse. My point is that we shouldn’t be focusing on Trump alone, overlooking events from the preceding years. We need to acknowledge the longer duration and complexity of this unfortunate trend to begin to fix what has gone wrong.

 

 

Pandemic Journal July 10, 2020

 

mark@marktreble.com

 

Pandemic Journal, July 10, 2020

 

Tommy again. Our big news was that Poppinseed dropped in for a quick visit. We had to hold off all the women and a third of the men. He’s that good-looking. He’s had several good years now with the Wizards and has been their starting center since the first game of his second year. He passed on the gossip, of course. Muhammad had started medical school at Johns Hopkins on July first. Poppinseed himself was trying serial monogamy, and kept coming back to the same woman, Katy. We vaguely remembered her.

 

“At DCU her boyfriend was Larry, the guy who was friendly with everybody. You probably remember him for trying to give Logan a blow job at the first party your freshman year.” Yeah, I did remember. And not fondly. “Anyway, Katy left him when she caught him in a three-way with another couple. She recognized that she was jealous, and that wasn’t healthy. Especially about a dickhead like Larry. She’s matured since then, and moved to Washington.” Poppinseed stopped for a minute, then nodded his head before proceeding. “I’m thinking she might be the one.”

 

I broke out in a huge smile, called Logan over and asked Poppinseed if he wanted to share the news. He did. “Like I told Tommy, the girl I’m dating right now, Katy, just might be the one. We haven’t talked about it, but she’s practically moved into my place. We’re together in everything but a formal discussion.” Logan and I got up and put our arms around him, then slapped him on the back and the ass. I was tempted to leave my hand on his ass for a few seconds, but thought better of it. I love Logan, and we’re both happy that Poppinseed might have found love himself. Plus, he was straight. Dammit.

 

We were just closing up the clinic, and invited him upstairs for lunch. Evita, a translating nurse, was drooling, so we invited her along. Poppinseed’s Spanish isn’t very good, but she had enough English for both of them. Evita paid no attention at all to me or Logan, but was literally hanging off Poppinseed. She talked him out of his shirt at one point and was all over his pecs, sucking on his nipples, until he pried her off.

 

“Evita, you’re a smart, beautiful woman, and I’m kind of in a committed relationship. In fact, that’s why I’m up here. I came to talk with Logan and Tommy about my feelings, something I don’t understand real well. I think I want to skip the preliminaries and just ask her to marry me.” I was taken aback, Logan was taken afront, and Evita looked like her dog just died. She picked up our friend’s shirt and threw it at him, ran for the door and started crying. We could hear her until she got in the elevator.

 

“Did I do something wrong?” Poppinseed asked.

 

“Yeah, just being you. You can’t help attracting nearly every female and quite a few males when you show up. It’s a curse, but you’re coping well with it.” We all laughed uproariously for a good five minutes, then threw together a few sandwiches and had a beer each. Poppinseed wanted to catch up with Antoine, whom he’d met at the All-Star game. They’d hit it off immediately. I called Antoine, who was on the roster to drive the nurses home and was going to take Maia with him. Poppinseed took her place.

 

We heard gunfire. We were supposed to be in a safe neighborhood, but there doesn’t seem to be anywhere that matches that description. Last Friday we’d had to treat two shooting victims, one of whom was driving a very pregnant woman to a hospital. Bad memories. After I was done for the day I came upstairs and cried in Logan’s arms. Now, a week later, remembering how strong my husband had been for me, I smiled at him.

 

Shootings are crazy here. They seem to be crazy everywhere in the city. Last weekend there were seventy-nine shot, and fifteen dead in a single weekend. There are war zones more peaceful than Chicago. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. We may end the month with more than eighty dead, almost all of them black. But the headlines are filled with rage about racist police shootings of unarmed black men, and claims of Black Lives Matter. I think it’s a lie. Black lives don’t matter unless their deaths can be used to make a political point. That’s bullshit.

 

OK, we’ve got messages. Lori L. asks, “Tommy, what’s your favorite position?” I’d have to say it’s shooting guard. On the basketball team I’m sort of a field-goal machine, accurate at the three-point range. We’ve got another message, this one also from Lori L. “No, stupid, not your basketball position. Your position, like missionary, doggy style or . . . “ I have to stop reading. Lori, none of your fucking business. Literally. Sorry about the language.

 

Another one from Daryl W. “What’s the status on your and Logan’s decision about adopting?” We’re still talking. Logan’s got law school ahead of him and that’s gonna take a lot of time and concentration. I mean, deciding which pocket to pick and how to do it, while chasing an ambulance, has got to be tough. No, stop it Logan. Stop it. You know how * giggling sounds* ticklish I am there. And, bring me back my shirt. OK, that’s it, Mister, the camera’s running, give me back my pants immediately. *more giggling sounds*  CAMERA OFF