Though I have always taken seriously the right to vote, I have never aligned myself with one particular political party.  Instead, it has been my practice to remain informed on issues and on individuals running for office, and then to lend my support regardless of political affiliation.  Sometimes the outcome of an election has turned in favor of my choice, and sometimes it has not.  Regardless of the outcome, though, I always had faith in the system.

But as Bob Dylan put it: “… I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.”  In other words, like Dylan, I have begun to doubt some of the things in which I once had inalterable faith.

Things, for example, like the orderly and civil conduct of government business, and strict adherence to the United States Constitution without regard to political affiliation … and … the guarantee of due process in criminal proceedings … and … the Posse Comitatus Act of 1878, prohibiting deployment of the military in American cities.  In this Orwellian environment, it is no surprise that a Florida Sheriff felt justified in announcing, recently, a return to law and order “Old West” style, declaring that stepping out of line at protests could “land ‘ya graveyard dead.”

For all these reasons, the June 14, 2025, “No Kings” rallies across the United States came just in time.  

In Fort Worth, Texas, the rally took place in a shaded park near downtown and, never having participated in an event of this sort, two octogenarians (Bonnie and me) approached the gathering crowd with some trepidation.  What could we expect?  Would we fit in?  Was there going to be violence?  Would extremists hijack the day?  And most important … would there be restrooms nearby?

I am pleased to report that our experience at the rally was both uplifting and confirming … especially since we found ourselves in the midst of so many folks our age.  Those in attendance spoke to a range of causes, with the central notion being that of a common striving for government accountability and adherence to the rule of law.  And while it was hot there in the park, event organizers provided water and made sure to pick up any trash and … thankfully … the line for the restrooms was relatively short!

Home-made signs were in abundance … many very creative … some obscene … but all connected in one way or another to the theme of the day.  One sign, in particular, stood out, for it captured … perfectly … the reason why we were there:

My Grandkids Know I Did Not Remain Silent!  No Kings!!

If there were something I would want our seven grandchildren to grasp from our attendance at this rally, it would be that each of them should take, seriously, what the sign suggests … do not remain silent!  They do not have to agree with us on issues … we know some of them do not … but we love them all, and we encourage them to be heard on matters of importance to them and to our nation.

Incidentally, John Spitzberg of Gainesville, FL, is my newest hero.  At a rally outside the Supreme Court, Spitzberg … age 87 and  a veteran … was arrested for crossing a police line.  Taken into custody after refusing attempts to get him to move back, he said he wanted to be with other veterans who had already been arrested.  Notably, it took two officers to move Spitzberg to a police van … one to zip tie his hands behind his back and lead him by the elbow, and the other to push his walker.  When asked how he felt about having been arrested, Spitzberg said: “I’m just beginning, my friend.  I’m gonna just get a little sleep, and I’m starting again.”

One of the most powerful moments at the Fort Worth rally occurred when 60 women in silent formation and dressed as Handmaids, marched into the park carrying with them a banner reading: We The People Were Not Meant to Kneel.  Their breathtaking appearance was a vivid reminder of the way in which Margaret Atwood, author of The Handmaid’s Tale, warns of the ease with which a democracy can fail:

That was when they suspended the Constitution.  They said it would be temporary.  There wasn’t even any rioting in the streets.  People stayed home at night, watching television, looking for some direction.  There wasn’t even an enemy you could put your finger on.

One good thing that comes with getting older is the ability to reflect on past political campaigns, and to relish those times when candidates made sport of their opponents with style and humor.  Consider, for example, Barry Goldwater’s presidential campaign in 1964, and his slogan “In Your Heart You Know He’s Right.”  His opponent’s witty rejoinder of “In Your Guts You Know He’s Nuts” cut directly to the quick, but it was done with a degree of finesse.

In the 60’s and 70’s, Dick Tuck was a political trickster who engaged in a number of stunts that drove his opponents mad, including one notable escapade at a campaign rally where Richard Nixon was addressing a crowd from the back of a train.  In the midst of Nixon’s remarks, Tuck borrowed a conductor’s hat and waved at the engineer causing the train to pull out of the station as Nixon, still talking, watched the crowd fade into the distance.

Fast forward to 2023, where political discourse features character assassination, slurs and insults of every variety, threats of physical violence to candidates and their families, and a multitude of other forms of offensiveness and coarse behavior.  As an aside, it makes one wonder what would make someone choose to run for political office in our  present day maelstrom of unrestrained viciousness.

The current level of crudity in politics was made abundantly clear to me, recently, as I drove along a residential street not far from my home.  Imagine my shock as, in a neighborhood of nicely tended properties, I came face to face with a flag hanging from a front porch with the message “F*** Biden” emblazoned on it (I have obscured the obvious profanity).   There were no other political signs visible on the property … just that large banner (probably 4’ x 6’) with the jarring message clearly visible to anyone walking or driving past.

It is important to note that my revulsion at this obscenity was not based on the political persuasion of the person being pilloried; I would have been equally offended regardless of party.  But as I paused to reflect on what, if anything, I should do about this public affront, I came to the conclusion that someone displaying a brazen message of this sort on their front porch would likely not take kindly to my knocking on his door to discuss my concerns. 

Instead, I reported what I had observed to the city council, while inquiring about any laws or ordinances that might be in play.  Their prompt reply informed me that they were already aware of this obnoxious display but that, unfortunately, there was nothing they could do about it.  In fact, a Neighborhood Police Officer had even visited this house to ask that the flag be removed but, with no ordinance or law prohibiting its display, the occupant refused to take it down.  All this, by the way, in a community whose Vision Statement declares that it will be the most livable and best-managed city in the country.

For a citizen interested in showing support for a political party, position or individual, there are a number of ways to do so … writing letters of support … attending and speaking at government meetings … donating time or money to a campaign … running for office … and, of course, voting.  But posting a profane message on the front of your house … is that supposed to convince someone of the rightness of your political stance?

I could be wrong, of course, but I doubt the resident here has any expectation of winning others over to his point of view.  Instead, he is telling the world “It’s all about me,” and any impact his crude messaging has on passersby or his neighbors doesn’t bother him in the slightest.  In other words … you don’t like my flag?  Too Bad!  Deal with it!  And, more to the point, he is telling us all … “F*** You”

Other than the obscenity displayed proudly on his front porch, I don’t know anything about the person residing within.  I believe, though, that  the noted business and religious leader, Spencer Kimball, is right in suggesting:

Profanity is the effort of a feeble brain to express itself forcibly.

Do you remember the “good old days” when politicians and public figures behaved as adults, treated each other with respect and spoke only in well-mannered fashion?

I didn’t think so … neither do I.

But given today’s relentless barrage of pseudo-scandals and outrageous behavior, it is easy to understand why past public figures may have seemed a more-genteel bunch than our current crop.  A brief review of the history books, though, reveals a goodly amount of similarity to what we contend with today.  For example:

In 1800, Thomas Jefferson referred to President John Adams as: “… a blind, bald, crippled, toothless man who is a hideous hermaphrodite character with neither the force and fitness of a man, nor the gentleness and sensibility of a woman.”

Across his political career, two-term President Grover Cleveland had to contend with the assertion that he had fathered an illegitimate child, and his opponent’s relentless consequent chant of “Ma, Ma, where’s my Pa?”

And who can forget the historic duel in Weehawken, New Jersey, on the morning of July 11, 1804?   In that clash, Vice President Aaron Burr shot and killed former Secretary of the Treasury Alexander Hamilton because, well, Hamilton had allegedly insulted him at a dinner.

Today, the super-connected virtual world in which we reside hurls “news” (regardless of veracity) across the internet with but one click, while the vetting of information has become a process with which few seem to bother.  In this environment, it is impossible to ignore the glut of outright untruths and innuendo being paraded before us for the explicit purpose of character assassination or political gain.

Consider, for example, the torrent of vitriol heaped repeatedly upon United States Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg who, as the first openly gay cabinet member in history, is the target of incessant attacks based simply on his sexual orientation.  As he goes about deflecting these scurrilous insults, he provides us with useful guidance on navigating this confusing and ill-tempered virtual world:

We have to be smart about where we direct our attention. I know the most shocking thing somebody said or did yesterday gets the most focus today, but if I were to make a list of the 10 or 20 or 50 or 200 members of Congress whose commentary or thoughts or words we should be debating or weighing right now, it wouldn’t be those two or three members of Congress who get the most attention on Twitter for the outrage of the day upon which they try to outdo each other.

Buttigieg is right, for racist, sexist and homophobic slurs fall below the lowest threshold for decency.  A major problem, of course, is the anonymity the web provides us for, after all, making these sorts of ugly comments directly to another person’s face can result in a punch in the nose.  Saying the same thing in an internet posting, though, merely puts one at risk of a brief stint in “Facebook Jail.”

Like it or not, we have become wed to the internet in multiple ways meaning we face a daily struggle to avoid being drawn down some digital rabbit hole in pursuit of more “information” on the “scandal-du-jour.”  For our own sanity it is important to be discerning in the information we rely upon, while avoiding those spectacles that are nothing more than just, well, spectacles.

It is safe to state that the principles of dignity and self-respect are at risk among elected officials today … a criticism that applies equally across the political spectrum.  For example, in a recent interview a Democratic senator uttered one “f***,” two “f***ings,” one “bull****,” one “p***ed off” and one “they s**k.”  Not to be outdone, a number of Republican politicians have taken to posing with “Let’s Go Brandon” signs; one even ended his floor speech with those words and a fist pump.  The “Let’s Go Brandon” phenomenon is, of course, code for “F*** Joe Biden.”

These sorts of profane insults have even taken on hybrid form.  At a recent dinner, a Republican governor referred to former President Trump as “F***ing Crazy,” prompting one Democrat to note that Republicans, today, are using “F” bombs more frequently than at any time since the Nixon administration.

It’s getting so that broadcast political events will have to have viewer warnings similar to what we see in movie theaters.

Frankly, this sort of thing used to bother me, but now it just makes me tired.  As a remedy, I have begun following my own advice by taking an occasional break or sabbatical from the digital political battlefield, while seeking out those things that are really important.

Like, for example, watching kitten videos on YouTube.