My grandfather was an interesting man. He was a mason (the one using concrete, not the other), liked bowling, had a roving eye, one gold tooth (even when he got dentures, it remained), a green and white rowboat called “The Irish Navy,” and was a stalwart Democrat. I used to joke about my grandfather’s political affiliation and say he voted for the dead horse party. When questioned, I would explain that he would vote for a dead horse if it were on the Democratic ticket.
In the years that have passed since he passed on, I have remembered the skritch skritch sound of a hoe on the metal container where he mixed concrete. Recently, we had some masonry work done at the house and that sound brought me back to my childhood. I also talk about the consistency of cement when my classes read Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption. In the novella, Stephen King speaks of the consistency of WPA concrete and how that may have played a role in Andy Dufresne’s decision to escape. I tell the classes about how it was sort of an art form to mix the sand, gravel, and the cement mix to reach the desired consistency and how my grandfather was a master of this mix.
My cousin, Rich, has a boat. While it is much larger than the small green rowboat that roamed the bay in Union Beach, and while it sails on the Barnegat Bay, it is named The Irish Navy II in a tip of the hat to Joe Coffey, the grandfather who took his grandsons fishing and crabbing.
And now, after all these years, I understand why my grandfather voted the straight Democratic ticket. I had an inkling of this truth in the last election when I had friends who were not Hillary supporters say they held their noses while voting because they didn’t like her but didn’t want the alternative. I actually liked Hillary and, as a woman, felt that she was often blamed for things for which members of the old white boys club would be given a pass. And the emails. Really, James Comey? You have spoken out now but made a really bad decision then. You tipped the election and, with the help of Vlad, were part of the mechanism that allowed this debacle to occur. The election of 2016 cannot be undone, unfortunately, but we must vote in droves this time out. I will mention that I agree with President Carter that this is not a legitimate president because I have always believed the Russians knew which states to tip in Trump’s favor, which states held enough Electoral College votes to enable this to occur. In the wee hours of the morning after that day, I got a text from a colleague. It said, simply, “God Bless America.” At that point I was bereft and barely able to summon the wherewithal to go to work. In a few minutes, however, I texted back, “You spelled help wrong.” I haven’t changed my mind.
I have had much personal happiness in these years after that election day but the man in the White House is like a Dementor hanging above the country. I cannot fathom what would happen to the country and to my personal state of mind were the election of 2020 to turn out the same way. We have begun the process. There are so many Democratic candidates in the field. Some I really like and some I think need some additional seasoning. None of it matters to me now. I am now going to do what my grandfather did all those years ago. My credo will be one I have seen online: It doesn’t matter who. Vote Blue. I apologize, Pop Pop, for the after-the-fact ribbing I used to do, for the eye rolling and the knowing laughter of youth. I don’t care if there is a dead horse on the ticket. It will be an improvement over the current situation.
AB45 Anyone But #45.
Indeed.