Letters

An article appeared in our local paper about two weeks ago about how happy The West Virginia Chamber of Commerce and The Business and Industry Council are with the Republican Party. These groups are trying to make it harder to sue negligent business owners, to change the election laws to find judges more amenable to business interests, overturn environmental rules, lower business taxes, make West Virginia a right-to-work state to help destroy labor unions, and advance charter schools in the state, again to shut out unions. Of course, I was livid. Here's the letter I wrote, which was published Sunday, December 13 in the Morgantown Dominion Post.

It's always good to know who your friends are. The West Virginia Business and Industry Council and The West Virginia Chamber of Commerce know that their friends are in the Republican Party.
For the rest of us, if the Republicans continue to rule, they will reduce taxes on businesses, make it harder to sue an employer or merchant, reduce wages for working people, and cut out more health and safety regulations in the mines. West Virginia University will lose more funding, and fewer local students will enroll because of rising tuition. Public schools will suffer, and more miners will die in accidents. Meanwhile, CEO pay will continue to rise. The Republicans say their plan will help the economy. Actually, it will make the very rich even richer, and everyone else poorer.

In 2014, the Republicans promised to fix the roads and improve the economy. Instead, they have made things worse, and promise more of the same if they are reelected in 2016.

I reedited this letter to make it clearer, so this is not exactly what was published in the paper.

Today, there were two awful letters in the paper. I could blame it on the age of the letter writers, but at sixty-six, I can't complain about old men who have nothing to do but write letters to the editor.

Both letter writers appear frequently in the paper. Riley Thomas, who is 76 according to an internet search, complains about President Obama not saying "Radical Islamic terrorism." According to an article on Politifact, President Obama has said "ISIL is not Islam." He does not want to equate Islam to terrorists. Thomas' point is something used to conflate terrorists and Islam. He also states:

 "Other mass shootings have their roots in mental illness and out-of-control criminal activities. Government needs to address the root causes of these atrocities and affect a solution, not make excuses for its inability to fix the problem." Would that a Republican government would actually allocate money for mental health issues. Of course, he doesn't mention the "terrorists" who claim to be "Christians" or "Patriots" or "Defenders of the White Race."

He ends by saying:

"To me, gun control is a good grip, a steady aim and a smooth trigger pull. Not depriving someone of their constitutional right to defend themselves."

Or their right to own as many weapons as they can afford, so that they can gun down their enemies. That's what I hear. These are false talking points from the Republican Party and the NRA. What happened to "A well-regulated militia.."? Ignore terrorism by so-called Christians, but demonize all of Islam. And don't ever mention that it is way too easy for people to get guns.

The other writer, Dan Carnegie, age 65, according to the internet, opens by discussing a college class he attended where the instructor was upset about the killing of four students at Kent State University in Ohio, on May 4, 1970. Carnegie says "As a Vietnam veteran, I was very understanding of the guard (sic) . Protests have a way of turning violent. They should have been in class." He goes on from there to defend the policeman in Chicago who shot Laquan McDonald. He says "No, I don't agree with shooting someone 16 times. But when you invite the police to respond- you must take responsibility for what is to come."

"No" and "No." I was a junior in college on May 4, 1970, and we shut down our school. The protests at Johns Hopkins were peaceful, as were the protests at The University of Maryland, where the National Guard was also called in. With all the talk of the Second Amendment, where is the talk about the First Amendment right to peacefully protest against blatantly illegal actions by the Nixon administration, waging war in Cambodia, which was expressly forbidden by Congress? And why are the police, who are supposed to catch perpetrators of crimes, allowed to execute people without a trial? And lie about it.

The Dominion-Post states that they will only publish one letter per month from each writer. Otherwise, I would have been on these guys today. If you want to send a letter, then write to opinion@dominionpost.com. I don't have a subscription to the paper, so I can't access their on-line edition to show the full text of the letters I've quoted.

In my election campaign, I would love to be able to make people like this see things a different way. What I may be able to accomplish is to represent people who see things through a lens of compassion, what the Constitution really says, and an understanding of history and where our state and country need to go. People like us are not well-served by most of those in political office here in West Virginia.

Brown County, Ohio

I wonder what it would feel like to be from a place that barely exists anymore? That question came up today exploring Brown County, Ohio. Wikipedia says this county is part of metropolitan Cincinnati, and that's apparent where I'm staying, in Mt. Orab, a town near the intersection of OH-32, the Appalachian Highway, which runs from the border with West Virginia at Parkersburg with US 50 to Athens, then continues to Cincinnati. At the intersection of OH-32 and US 68, there is a development of new houses, a giant Kroger, and a plethora of fast food restaurants. The rest of the county is a series of little farm towns, some looking empty.

The two most interesting towns, Georgetown, the county seat and the childhood home of Ulysses S. Grant, and Ripley, on the Ohio River, home of the Underground Railroad from Kentucky, are quaint and interesting to look at, but many of the storefronts in both towns are empty.

The sign at Mt. Orab (Hebrew Horeb, another name for Sinai?) say that it is thirty-six miles to Cincinnati, two counties over. There probably are places to shop in the closer-in suburbs west of here.

The young woman at the Chamber of Commerce-Visitor Center told me she is from Fayetteville, a smaller, unhappening town in the northern part of Brown County, but now lives in a town in the southwest part of the county, one I didn't visit. She swears her town is not suburban, and like many people I've met in almost-all-white rural  areas, she can't imagine living in a big city. She recommended a restaurant up the street for lunch, and I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich with cheese and marinara sauce. Like most restaurant food, it had too much salt and came with chips and a pickle, putting the sodium content through the roof. They had homemade apple pie, so I declined the offer of either ice cream or whipped cream and had a slice. It was very good- good enough that I forgave myself the caloric indulgence. My check was $9.99.

For dinner tonight, I ate from the salad bar at Kroger, mostly salad (and some cottage cheese and Thai-style noodles). There were lots of sweet and salty selections. The bar was more boring than the Kroger salad bar in Morgantown.

Typically, I will eat at a small Chinese restaurant when I'm away, but there were no obvious Asians here. I nodded "hello" to one African-American on the street in Georgetown, and overheard two people greet each other in Spanish at Kroger. There is no sign that there was ever a Jewish presence in this county.

After arriving as it was getting dark yesterday, I only really explored today. I followed my plan-to be on the road by nine, stop an hour for lunch, go until four when I come back to my room for a nap. I saw probably nineteen of twenty-four places on The National Register. I didn't see any big park, mall or synagogue. I did see a small college run by the Ursulines, and a one-building community technical college. There is lots of farmland, fallow now, but usually planted in tobacco.

One thing that struck me is how General (and President) Grant is revered here. I could tell I was not in Virginia.

The high temperature today was 50 F., not as warm as it was last weekend, but still seven degrees warmer than average. The sun shone only briefly. The temperature was warmer on the Ohio River than inland by a few degrees. Indeed, I saw magnolia trees along the Ohio, but not inland.

There weren't a lot of people around to interact with and no traffic issues. The people I saw at the hotel, restaurants, Kroger and the Chamber of Commerce were happy to engage in conversation.

This is what I do for fun, and I enjoyed the Ohio River, the pretty towns, and the lack of anything to do except explore.

I did watch one hour of "The Voice" last night. We don't have a TV that works at home, so this was rare. I liked Jordan, because I thought he was the best singer, because he is a little gender ambiguous, and because he sang "Climb Ev'ry Mountain" from "The Sound of Music" and "God Only Knows" from The Beach Boys' "Pet Sounds" album. He was fortunate to have Adam Levine mentor him.

Next month (hopefully), Buchanan County, Virginia.

Thumann Log House, Perry Township, near St. Martin, looks abandoned

Ursuline Church, next to the campus of Chatfield College, Perry Township, near St. Martin

House in St. Martin, now a community center

Main St., Georgetown

Brown County Courthouse, Georgetown

Ulysses S. Grant childhood home, Georgetown

Bailey-Thompson House, now a bed and breakfast, Georgetown

School, Higginsport, vacant

Rankin House, on the bluff overlooking the Ohio River, Ripley. This was an important spot on the Underground Railroad.

John P. Parker House, Ripley. Parker was a free African-American inventor before the Civil War.

Homes on the Ohio River, Ripley

Library, Ripley, 1915, designed by H.T. Liebert, a German-born architect active in Michigan and Wisconsin.

Bridge over the Ohio River from Aberdeen, Ohio to Maysville, Kentucky, 1931

The Campaign

As with everything I have tried (speaking Spanish fluently, acting, singing, teaching, being a cantor, marriage), politics is more work than I expected it to be. Last Thursday, I attended three meetings: first about the possiblity of a new bridge over the Monongahela River, then a meeting of the Democratic Central Committee for our county, and then Suncrest Neighborhood Association. We live in Suncrest, part of Morgantown. Monday, I attended a kick-off campaign for the reelection of Judge Phillip Gaujot. I've been meeting lots of people, and enjoying that, and getting my name out there, and I have opinions to share in every forum.

I had signed up for an all-day training for new candidates, led by Stephen Stone Smith, a community organizer in Charleston. Training was held in places throughout the state. I attended the one in Wheeling, 74 miles from home. Although it was billed as non-partisan, I don't think many Republicans attended. The work Smith outlined for us is detailed and intense. One should have a committee of ten to help write and execute a written out campaign strategy, should go door-to-door to meet people in the district, and should calll people and ask for a specific amount of money from each person. At first, I didn't think I could do any of this. I now see I will have to bite the bullet and do most of these things.

Still, I have people helping me. I have a treasurer, who also can do tech for me, named Dee Quaranto. A friend from temple, who is active in politics, thought I shouldn't run and wouldn't help, but she has given me good advice about what to do since I seem to be stubborn about running. Another friend from Maryland has offered advice and help.

I'm still working on my 90-second "stump speech" which I gave, in draft form, to the other people at the workshop in Wheeling, who were supportive and gave good feedback. None of us of whatever political leaning, are "establishment" candidates, and I could see myself reflected in them and the struggles they will face to get elected. I've ordered business cards, which will arrive next week.

I met a candidate for the same office, a friend at Judge Gaujot's fundraiser. She complained that she has a full-time job and doesn't have much time to campaign. I thought I had something on her there, but I do our shopping, cooking and bill-paying, and I attend most events at Tree of Life. Joe and I are going to Israel for the CCAR (Reform rabbis) convention in late February, and I'm teaching a class at OLLI from January 25 to February 22, just before we leave for Israel.  My time is not inexhaustible, and the primary is in May, not that far off.

Things are moving. I believe now that there will be at least nine Democrats running for five nominations for Delegate in our district. Candidates have until January 30 to file, so there may be even more. It's easy to criticize Republicans on issues, but the Democrats, most of whom I know, are people I generally agree with on issues. I think of myself as more "upfront" than they are, more "in your face." I want to be the Bernie Sanders of West Virginia.

Meanwhile, thanks to Dee, my website is up. I'm very happy with it, but there may be some changes down the road. Here's the link:

www.barryinthehouse.com

Don't be surprised if you get a call asking for a donation, or an invitation to a fundraiser, or, if you are in Morgantown, a knock on your door.

Thanksgiving 2015

We're back from Thanksgiving in Memphis. Joe's aunt (his late mother's sister) puts on a feast every year. Aunt "Nadly" as she is known, and Uncle Jimmy have two daughters, Molly in Memphis, Katie in Austin, Texas. Each daughter has a husband and a son and daughter. Aunt Nadly's two granddaughters are now sixteen; the boys are fourteen. Joe's sister Martha lives in Memphis; Joe's brother Henry often comes from rural southern Louisiana.

There is a cousin of Joe's mother and Aunt Nadly, known as"Anty," who comes from Buffalo, where the family started out. She has a married son and daughter. The daughter has two young sons; the son married last June and has a new baby daughter. Joe co-officiated at their wedding. Anty has two younger sisters. One is Marny, living in Humboldt County, California, who we saw often when we lived in Crescent City. She has a married son, Sascha, in Portland. We attended Sascha's wedding in Portland in 2012, a month after our move to Morgantown. Joe officiated. Anty's other sister, Annie, lives in Boston.

There is a tradition of people bringing their new "significant other" to Thanksgiving. I was that person in 2007. One year, Sascha came with his then-girlfriend Sara. This year, Molly's sixteen-year-old daughter brought her boyfriend. He is handsome and smart and put up with the silly games and the singing of old obscure songs. She seemed serious about him. He seemed too young to be in a serious relationship.

In my family, there is no older generation. Of this whole crew, I am closest in age to Joe, but closer in age to the old folks than to Joe's siblings and cousins. There is a fiction that everything is the same every year, but it's not. Most obviously, the children have gone from six and eight to fourteen and sixteen. As teens, the kids seemed less happy to be with family than they were as children.

We flew this year on Wednesday and Sunday, and while everything went surprisingly smoothly, this was physically hard for me. We arrived home by car from Pittsburgh airport at 1:45 A.M. We ate  unhealthy amounts of salt, sugar and fat, despite a relatively healthy menu on Thanksgiving Day.

My maternal grandparents, Nanny and Poppy to us, made Thanksgiving in New York just about every year. We got together with our Long Island cousins. My grandparents cut us off when I was eighteen and a freshman in college and they were seventy. They sold their New York house, and moved to a small apartment near Miami.

I don't remember details about those Thanksgivings, I only retain a warm glow thinking of my grandparents at this time of year. This year Thanksgiving was November 26, my Nanny's birthday. She would have been 118 this year. My parents, aunts and uncles are all gone, too. I have to rely on Joe's family for an older generation. I'm friendly with my cousins on my mother's side, but we don't routinely get together. I never see my father's family any more.

Next year, we will probably go to my sister Robin for Thanksgiving. She gets together with her son Evan and his girlfriend Kelli and a close friend of hers and her kids, one of whom has known Evan since preschool. Robin always laments when we go to Memphis that she and I are not together and with other family members.

This year, more than others, I felt the passage of time at Thanksgiving. I hope Joe's family can stay together, more than mine has, and that we'll be able to travel to Memphis again to be with them.

Joe, Martha and Henry sing out at Thanksgiving in Memphis

World AIDS Day 2015

It was in the Dominion-Post, our local paper, that there would be a candlelight march tonight for AIDS from the Mountainlair, the student union at the center of West Virginia University, to Jamison's, a bar/restaurant on High Street in downtown Morgantown, a few blocks away. I felt I should go.

It rained most of the day, with showers on and off later. The temperature was close to 60 at seven P.M., at least ten degrees above the average mid-day high for December 1.

Joe had bar and bat mitzvah tutoring in Clarksburg, an hour drive south of here, so I was on my own. I walked a half mile to the PRT, the driverless rail system that connects the far flung parts of campus and downtown, and got off at the station near the center of WVU's Downtown campus.

When I arrived at The Mountainlair, I spotted Ed Cole, from the Division of Diversity, Equity and Inclusion, dressed in his customary khakis, navy blue blazer and bow tie. There were people from Caritas House, the local charity group for People With AIDS (PWAs). They apparently sponsored the event. A group of students joined us, possibly all from one class, and mostly women. Some of the people from Caritas House introduced themselves, including Justin Siko, the assistant executive director. I said "We've met before" and we left it at that. We had a confrontation a few years ago about a donation Joe and I made jointly, where a thank you note was sent only to Joe at Tree of Life, even though the check was from our joint account, signed by me, and had our home address on it. At the time I was livid that we were not acknowledged as a couple, and I let Mr. Siko know that. I don't think he wishes to speak to me again. We have not since then been invited to their events.

Sharon Wood, who is the executive director, spoke at the beginning of the march and led the group. We were given candles and a red cup to hold them.

I spoke mostly to a photographer from the Dominion-Post who went along with the group. We were the two who somehow didn't fit in with the others.

Just as we got to Jamison's there was a downpour. Luckily they have an awning, so we were dry. Ms. Wood spoke about the work of Caritas House, how "AIDS doesn't discriminate by race, gender or sexuality." She told us how she became involved when her godson was hospitalized with an AIDS-related illness many years ago.

Then she asked if anyone else had something to share. I was the only one who did. This is more or less what I said, as it wasn't written down.

"I guess I'm the outsider here. I'm a sixty-six year old gay man. In the early days of the AIDS epidemic, in the eighties and nineties, most of the people who died from AIDS were gay men, many of them close friends of mine. The gay newspaper in Los Angeles, where I lived at the time, used to publish three, four and five pages of obituaries of men, mostly young, who had died of AIDS in the previous week. I especially want to remember my close friends, Fred Shuldiner, Art Horowitz, Rue Starr, Hal Wakker, Avram Chill, and David Fyffe, who died just a year ago, although he was diagnosed in 1985. I remember many more people whose lives touched mine, and I feel bad that after twenty-five or thirty years, I have forgotten some of their names." Sharon Wood said "But they still live on in your heart." True.

No one else said anything. Justin Siko read a good, non-sectarian prayer off his phone and I said "Amen." The photographer looked at me, shocked and speechless. No one else said anything, so Sharon Wood invited us all in to Jamison's to socialize. I returned my cup and candle to one of the Caritas House people, and headed home.

At The Mountainlair

At The Mountainlair

Sharon Wood addressing the crowd on High St., in front of Jamison's