Republican No More

They advocated and fought to free the slaves. They worked to preserve America's wilderness by protecting National Parks. They warned us about cozying up to corporations and the military. They used to be the Republican Party.

Used to be.

I’m working to initiate a lawsuit to force them to change their name as they no longer resemble that political organization. To say they are the party of Lincoln, or Teddy or Ike is delusional as they abandoned those leaders’ ideals and principles decades ago.

The downfall of the Grand Old Party began with Nixon's Southern strategy which attracted the Dixicrats and others who hated President Johnson’s civil rights expansion.  The metamorphosis of the party continues with the Trump dismantling of the few vestiges of the old party that remained.  

In the old days the Eisenhower administration said this:

“We are proud of and shall continue our far-reaching and sound advances in matters of basic human needs — expansion of social security — broadened coverage in unemployment insurance — improved housing — and better health protection for all our people. We are determined that our government remain warmly responsive to the urgent social and economic problems of our people. We shall continue to seek extension and perfection of a sound social security system.”

Ike also advocated for equal pay for equal work, regardless of gender; supported a mandated minimum wage rate; supported ending discrimination in employment based on race; supported an expansion of social security and other progressive ideals.  Today’s party cringes when they hear anything close to that, and in fact, often opposes those ideas.

Today’s Republican party has moved so far from the progressive ideals they embraced in the old days that even the moderates flee the party.

Nowadays the party advocates for the rich and for corporations, but tries to appeal to working class people by stating they are working for those people interests, even though they most assuredly are not.

So I propose they have to change their name.  Some possible choices:

• Corporatic party
• Trumptonian Party
• Antipeoplish Party
• Wealthnbiz Party
• Screwpoorlian Party

By changing their name it will protect the rich history of the Pre-Nixon Republicans and save that heritage from the inglorious pigheadedness of today’s version. I may have a problem finding a lawyer though because I think the bar association may be an adjunct of the new party. Fingers crossed that the judge hasn’t been appointed by Trump.

Ah, James Thurber

 We at The Thurber Brigade apologize for once again getting off the path of the interaction between men and women.  However, with the election looming, we believed it important to stress that if someone supports DJ Trump, that person has strayed from the ideas and ideals of the Republican party and have instead embraced racism, hatred, ignorance and, well, you get it. We at The Brigade promise to get back to The War Between Men and Women real soon. Maybe.

Jim Croce the Guru

Most summers, to escape the oppressive Texas heat, I venture to the Great Northwest to hike in the mountains of our beautiful National Parks. Usually I'm hiking alone (partly because most people know I like to walk much longer distances then they can tolerate). Rangers will tell you that's not a good idea, but if you don't go with a group, be sure and make plenty of noise. This is so you don't surprise any bears and make them angry, and possibly would convince them to go some other way.

I always carry a little "bear bell" I bought at a shop near Glacier National Park, but I also tend to sing as I hike along. If you were to be on the trail ahead and suddenly heard someone singing the entire catalog of Jim Croce songs, well, you and the bears are about to run into me.  So far, I've encountered bears twice, but no bear attacks! Thanks Jim.

The Grand Teton Encounter

The reason I know all of Jim Croce's songs is because he is my guru.

What seems like a century ago, my Mom asked me to go pick up the big bro from a class he was taking at UT El Paso. I got there early and so sat at a student lounge in the building and it just so happened to have a TV playing some musician talking about a song. He was a guy with a big mane of curly hair, mustache and a big nose (I was a short-haired teenybopper) so I wrote him off as a hippie freak of some sort. I was a straight-laced guy who more likely took after my conservative Dad rather than my psych-major, pinko brother (politically, we changed places as we aged).

Something about the guy got me to start to listen to him though. Maybe it was the smooth voice or friendly attitude. Soon I became intrigued by the little tale he spun about a truck driver. After the story, he began to play his guitar and sing and it seemed to strike a nerve in the back of my mind.

My brother shortly got out of class, so I didn't get to hear more, but oddly, this guy remained a fixture in the recesses of my subconscious. After all, as a kid influenced by his parents instead of his brother, I was more likely to listen to Andy Williams (I still love his rendition of "Exodus") and Frank Sinatra than the Beatles or Dylan. In other words, I made no attempt to figure out who was the singer/songwriter I had just been mesmerized by at UTEP.

Years later, after I began to follow my own path musically and philosophically, I came realize that I had fallen under the spell of Jim Croce.

I eventually acquired every single song he wrote. I had them on  cassette, vinyl and cd. I also bought all his music videos (they were on one DVD). It was when I played those videos that it suddenly dawned on me that it had been Jim Croce who entranced me on that TV  all those years ago. What really struck me though was the realization that I probably saw him on The Tube that day only a short time before his death in a tragic plane accident not far from El Paso.

 

Maury Muehleisen, who played and toured with Croce, also died in the accident

Years before this epiphany, while I was with the 82nd Airborne, I adopted one of his songs as my theme song. I'm not going to say which one, as it's a personal thing, but it basically dealt with doing things your way as you travel through this life. Yeah, you can probably guess it from that clue.

Jim Croce became my Guru a short time later when I adopted his "The Hard Way Every Time" as my mantra. The philosophy behind it felt so compelling I couldn't resist. It begins with a chorus that goes "I've had my share of broken dreams, and more than a couple of falls...but in looking back...I've learned the hard way every time."

However,  it's the final chorus that rings most importantly: "...but in looking back at the faces I've been, I would sure be the first one to say, when I look at myself today, wouldn't of done it any other way."

I wholeheartedly follow this philosophy. No, I don't go out of my way to get into trouble or try things just to be put in peril—although I have to admit, I do try things out because I do think it might be an adventure—but it does mean that I accept my mistakes, my problems, my adventures, and know that they have shaped my life. Although I may not like what happened to me, I accept it as part of my life and my experiences.

In other words, the person I am today has been formed by all those experiences, good and bad.  I like this concept because it basically helps me face those trials and tribulations I encounter. It's a more poetic way of saying what doesn't kill me makes me stronger.

By the way, if you do buy the videos of Jim Croce, be sure and watch the special feature that has a duet from some TV show of Jim and Ingrid Croce. Whenever I watch them sing "Spin, Spin, Spin" I think they were a perfect couple. They look lovingly into each other's eyes, have a magical presence and, of course, harmonize beautifully. Sorry, sometimes I just get sentimental.

(We at The Thurber Brigade wish to once again apologize for the repeated use of The Donald in our last blog. It turned a lot of stomachs and we hope that this reverent and reflective essay on a great American singer/songwriter will soothe those souls damaged by the previous blog.  No, we can't promise we won't do it again since crazed American voters keep voting for ----- in record numbers, but at least remember that we are concerned about your mental well-being and will do our best to calm you when needed.)

The Hiker

Colorado has some beautiful scenery, but what most people don't realize is that half the state looks more like Kansas than those stunning pictures we see in travel magazines. I know this well because of my family's vacations when I was a child.

My Dad always loved to travel. I think this wanderlust came from growing up on a small Kansas farm during the depression. About the only adventures his family might undertake would be a shopping trip to a nearby small town.

So as an adult, not only did he become a Navy pilot during WWII, he did a stint as a pilot after the war, then even after getting a family (and degree in engineering) would move from state to state after a number of years. Oh, not every few years but often enough that it was hard to establish strong roots.

Unfortunately, his type of travel for vacations meant putting the family in a car and driving somewhere. Oh, you would see things, but it was from the car. And the majority of the time our vacations were to drive to Colorado. This meant driving the expanse of Kansas (we lived in Topeka) to reach the mountains.

As you are drive through western Kansas you eventually enter Colorado. You have no idea you are in that state except that there is a big green sign you pass saying "Welcome to Colorado" (nowadays they seem to be made of wood). In other words, Colorado looks just like Kansas.

Of course, after about 30 minutes you would begin to see the tops of the distant mountains. After so many miles of flat plains it was really exhilarating to see those peaks, so the rest of the drive, which was pretty long and still in flat country, didn't seem that bad.

 
Once in the mountains the real adventure began. Oh, not because we did anything special, but because my Dad would always drive on these perilous winding roads—with thousand foot drops off the edge, a small two-foot rock wall the only barrier—and simultaneously stare over the edge of those cliffs.

 
In other words, we were never sure when we would be plunging over those cliffs to our spectacular deaths as he missed that next bend.  He never did though. Even though it freaked his passengers out his roaming eyes never resulted in an accident.

Oh, sure, there were turnoffs he could have taken to stop and look, but he wanted to keep driving. So the vacation mainly consisted of driving and looking out the window at those majestic mountains as they whizzed by.

However, there was always a little voice coming from the back seat begging to be allowed to get out and explore those mountains. You see, I am completely different than my Dad. I am a hiker. My idea of seeing something is getting out of said car and walking around.

I still vividly remember a time we were driving by some snow (it might have been a glacier) and convincing my brother into whining along with me to be allowed to go "see" that blazing white stuff. Dad relented and we two little boys ran up to the snow to frolic and throw snowballs. It was summer after all, so a snowball fight in July was pretty exciting.

To this day I still love to travel, but after 50 miles I am ready to get out of the car and start hiking. This can make getting somewhere a real challenge because every time I see a turnoff near some great scenery I feel this need to pull over and go see whatever is there. One trip along the Oregon/Washington coast took an inordinate amount of time because just about every 10 miles you would see something breath-taking that required exploration.

So when I plan a vacation these days, the question I always ask myself is "what kind of hiking can I get in?"

Last year, I hiked around Mt. Rainier

The previous year were The Grand Tetons

The year before: Olympic National Park

Even this year, when I decided to just take a short trip and stay in Portland, Oregon (just to escape the Texas summer heat) it was with the idea that I would take at least one day to hike around The Columbia River Gorge plus go often to Washington Park.

All this being said, my vacations have been solo adventures because usually my girlfriends knew of my habit of walking a lot. They knew that even a short trip to a nearby store could result in a stop by a hike-and-bike trail we "accidentally" passed on the way.

I am sure there are females who also have this wandering habit. After all, I have passed a number on the trails. But for now it seems I’ll be hiking along the various paths I come across by my lonesome.

I don’t mind.

(Of course I had to have a James Thurber cartoon about the wild too!)