So Long, Farewell

Syrian refugees strike in front of  Budapest Keleti railway station. Refugee crisis. Budapest, Hungary, Central Europe, 3 September 2015.

There’s plenty that’s been said already about the events in Paris last week. I can’t add anything useful. I wanted to talk instead about the truly ugly aftermath that’s emerging from this. That is the political pandering against Syrian refugees, and the ways that it’s going to make a serious problem even worse.

There’s already the ever-present undercurrent of Islamophobia that’s existed since, well, ever if you really think about it. Then it got super exacerbated when it was found that the main planner behind the attacks in Paris used a fake Syrian passport to get into Europe as a refugee. And like that, we were off to the races, with the goal being for conservatives to see just how far down the rabbit hole they could go. Now there are 31 of 50 state governors who say that they will not allow Syrian refugees to settle in their states. This includes my home state of New Jersey, mostly because we have a Republican governor who still thinks he can be President one day. The menagerie of Republican Presidential nominees are spouting off plenty of nonsense. Politicians of all stripes just seem to be on a race to the bottom. Hell, I’ve seen more posts on Facebook about people having to delete other people or stop going on Facebook in the past week because of their terrible invective than ever (and it’s sad when someone you genuinely like on Facebook turns out to be a xenophobe, isn’t it?).

I wish I could ask how we’ve gotten so close to the bottom, but I think the reality is that we’ve been here for a very long time. This is 14 years of hatred that has just seethed and bubbled and grown, and now it’s exploding. We have exposed the worst of ourselves to the world, and everyone is watching.

And the thing that drives me fucking crazy is that, to some degree, isn’t this what ISIS and their ilk want? They are very successful at recruiting young people who feel disaffected in the Western world. The vast majority are kids who came up in a Western environment. Like the Boston bombers. Everyone remembers them as young kids who liked to lift and look good, until they were about something else. What better way to turn around and show these people how the Western world truly is against them, and bolster their ranks. Trust me, that’s powerful stuff.

In the end, I feel for the Syrians who really just want to get away from a world that’s bad all around. They have Assad on one side, ISIS on the other. No wonder they are fleeing Syria in droves. It’s too bad that they are soon going to feel like they have nowhere else to go in the world at all.

The Rising

Tribute In Lights

I wrote this three years ago for an earlier version of D6. I don’t think I could ever sum this up as eloquently as I did then. This is still one of the pieces of writing I’m most proud of.

I was sound asleep. I was a 20 year old college student on that Tuesday morning, still living at home. I didn’t have class until that afternoon. I didn’t work that day. So I was in bed like a normal 20 year old college kid. I remember being woken up because I heard my mother in the house. She was crying. To this day, I will never forget coming downstairs, asking her what was wrong, and the total feeling of disbelief that engulfed me when she told me what happened. I remember the surreal feeling that set in the rest of the day just watching TV as a rescue operation turned into a salvage operation turned into a smoldering, smoking wound in the heart of our city. After that Tuesday, I will always understand what people mean when they say they always remember exactly where they were when Pearl Harbor was bombed or John F. Kennedy was shot.

I’d only been to the World Trade Center once, way back in 1997, with my grandparents and my uncle. I remember going on the roof and how you could see so far out to everywhere. I think I took a whole roll’s worth of pictures that day. I wish I knew where they are today. That view was utterly breathtaking.

There’s a point when you’re driving up Rt 1-9 northbound between Woodbridge and Rahway, just when you cross over the NJ Coast railroad tracks where, on a clear day, you could always see the twin towers standing tall over the NYC skyline. I always remember that from driving through there growing up with my family, and later with just myself. After the attacks, that view was… empty, devoid of its centerpiece. It sat like that for years. Tonight, as we were driving home over that very same stretch of road, we could see the annual tribute in lights shining into the night’s sky, right next to the gleaming phoenix of the new 1WTC tower, finally rising defiantly to reclaim the southern Manhattan sky.

Photo Credit: quintanomedia on Flickr with a CC by 2.0 license.



On the right in this picture is my friend Jen. On the left is her wife Molly. In 2013, Nadine and I had the privilege of attending their wedding in Washington DC. They had to get married in DC, because their home state of Ohio would not recognize same-sex marriage. In fact, it was one of the states covered by the Sixth Circuit ruling that led to Obergefell being argued in front of the Supreme Court. Finally, after today’s ruling, they get to be recognized as an actual married couple in the eyes of the law in their home.

I’ve known Jen for almost 20 years at this point (it’s scary that either of us is old enough to say that). We’ve shared plenty of highs and plenty of lows together. Jen is a pretty amazing person and an even better friend.

So why does this matter so much to me? It’s really super simple. I’ve never seen one person make another person as happy and Molly makes Jen. If there are two people in this world who just belong together, it would be them. I know it sounds syrupy as all hell, but it’s completely true. Yet, for two years they’ve had to navigate a rocky road at home, with the legal challenges that arise from their home state not considering their union a legal one. Now, they don’t have to have that anymore.

So, yeah, if you’re stuck in the 30,000 ft worldview of this thing, or have doubts about why it’s the right call, just look at these two. These are two people who love each other greatly. And it’s wonderful to report that the law has finally caught up to where they are.


I’d Like To Teach the World To Sing


What follows contains all manners of spoilers about the finale of Mad Men. If you haven’t watched it already, don’t read.

Overall, I thought the Mad Men finale offered a lot more fan service than I expected. Matt Weiner is like David Chase in the regards that I don’t think he really cares what fans think, he’s going to tell the story the way he wants it (his paranoia about spoilers and leaks, though, is unmatched). That’s been obvious throughout most of this season, as we’ve watched Don go after yet another conquest and frankly cost two or three episodes that could have been spent exploring other things. Despite this, the finale tried to deliver for the fans. Our core group of people all got resolution to their stories, and an ending, even if we might not have liked each one. Even Meredith, Don’s ditzy on the surface (but obviously a lot smarter than she looks underneath) secretary got a nice send off. That’s a lot more than a lot of shows will offer. I’m good with how Joan, Roger, and Peggy ended up, even if some of the endings were a bit saccharine (although the Peggy and Stan thing feels right. She has the job and the man and the man understands her love of the job. Could she ask for more?).

Here’s my problem with the damn Coke commercial and the obvious insinuation fact that Don’s whole takeaway from the time at the retreat thing was a better way to sell fizzy sugar water. When you look at it that way, I feel like it invalidates what they were building to this entire season with Don’s actions, the pursuit of the damn waitress, and etc. When you simply look at it as “Don’s done it again! It’s the next Carousel”, why did we bother with anything? Let’s just skip to the usual refrain. Don is unhappy being one in a sea of many. He runs away, because he’s fucking Don Draper and Don Draper always runs away. He magically comes back and wows the world with some new fake nonsense from his fake life. End of show.

If you instead look at Don’s epiphany, or whatever you want to call it, as finally accepting who he is and that he has personal value, things are so much more interesting. Then the Waitress story makes sense. Here is Don, doing Don things like always. And it ends poorly, like all of his other conquests do. Except, this one isn’t the same. Don can’t let go. Maybe he saw a little too much of himself in her. Maybe there’s a pang of remorse about everything. Maybe the fact that he’s just a cog at McCann is weighing on him. Whatever it is, Don watches that airplane flying through the sky and realizes that he needs to find… something. Maybe this waitress to fulfill those Don Draper things he needs. Maybe something else.

Cut to Don on the road. He doesn’t find the waitress. But he finds something else. The courage to tell the truth about the real Don Draper to a bunch of vets. The desire to try and turn that young con artist’s life around before he becomes the next Don Draper. The need to try and help Stephanie, misguided as most of Don’s attempts to help are. And so on. And it all culminates in his experiences at the retreat place. For most of this, this is Don being Don. He can’t relate to the old woman in the one session. He’s clearly skeptical of everything and can’t believe he’s there. He’s pissed when Stephanie takes off with the car and strands him. He’s sticking out like a sore thumb. But he’s not the same. The weight of his calls with Sally and Betty are weighing heavily on him (and can we discuss how those two still are in love with each other in spite of all the terribleness that they endured together?). He breaks down on the phone with Peggy, perhaps the person he has the greatest hopes for. He’s left sitting in front of the phone in an almost catatonic state when that seminar leader pulls him into that class, and he sees that schlub guy break down, talking about how unlovable he is. And you see that look of recognition on Don’s face. That guy is him, the Dick Whitman he has spent years burying under his Don Draper facade. Suddenly, this whole season of nonsense has paid off. Maybe Don can become a new man, an honest man.

And when we get to him doing yoga on that cliffside, it certainly looks that way. But no, same fucking bullshit from another show creator who thinks that he’s way smarter than us. An empty payoff. If we were just going to get this, why not just let it be Don being Don at this place and then he comes back and says “I know how to market this staid beverage to these young people.” That would have felt way more honest about things. Or, even better, why not let Don keep his moment of enlightenment and come back to New York and see Peggy, his protege and one of the very few people he actually respects in this world, and tell her about his experiences and let her go off and do the damn song. That would have felt honest and vindicating, because while the show may have been about Don, it’s often felt like the show has secretly been about Peggy, and her trip up the ladder in the 60s. Tell me those outcomes would not have been way more satisfying.

Overall, still a good ending, and I didn’t have to worry that the cable went out like I thought during The Sopranos finale. Still, sometimes it pays to stop thinking that you’re the smartest guy in the room and see the big picture. Just saying. Ommm.