James M. Redwine

voting

It Ain’t Beanbag

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As described by Winston Churchill, “Democracy is the worst political system except for all the others”. And as we suffer through our ongoing political pandemic and naively hope for a November 03 cure the political sausage making gives evidence of Churchill’s observation. On the other hand, if we step back from the splattering mud, we might find some passing amusement in the process. Of course, that is only if we personally or people we care about are not running for office.

The first political campaign I cared about involved the presidential race between Lyndon Johnson and Barry Goldwater in 1964. As I was active military at the time I was quite interested in each candidate’s position on the “police action” in Vietnam. Also, 1964 was my first chance to vote as I had just turned 21 and the 26th Amendment lowering the voting age to 18 was not ratified until 1971. You may recall, if you lived through the ’60’s, or you may have seen old black and white TV images of that famous political advertisement run against Goldwater showing a little girl plucking a daisy as a mushroom cloud rose in front of her. Well, I saw it in 1964 and heard Johnson promise not to send “American boys to die in an Asian war”. As I was one of those American boys, that sounded good to me so I voted for Johnson. That was my first lesson in political reality.

1964 temporarily cured my faith in voting but I relapsed in 1972 when as a young lawyer I decided to save the criminal justice system by supporting a friend of mine in his bid to be elected county prosecutor. Another idealistic attorney friend of mine and I dove head first into election day politics. We stayed up all night making political signs then at o’dark-thirty started putting them up at polling places. We were involved. We felt virtuous.

Then we pulled into a large precinct where many people were lined up to vote. As we each grabbed a sign with our champion’s name on it and jumped out of my old Ford sedan a large woman hustled up to us and asked if we had been sent by “Headquarters”? Neither of us knew what a political party’s headquarters was so we stared at her blankly as she loudly proclaimed, “Well, you better get some ‘supplies’ out here as these people ain’t voting right!” We headed home.

No, democracy is not perfect but it is not all bad and you have to admit it is often interesting. Peg and I still vote every time we have the opportunity even though we are aware our government is staffed with humans, not Plato’s recommended Philosopher Kings. Do we sometimes get disappointed by our choices; certainly.  Do we get discouraged; yeah. Do we want any other political system; nope!

Alone In A Crowd

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When I was 16 I worked at a Phillips 66 gas station. I made $1.00 per hour; if I worked 12 hours I made 12 dollars.

The station had one pump for regular (leaded) and one for ethyl. Mr. Cummins and Mr. Miller of Columbus, Indiana had not yet perfected the marketing of the diesel engine. Gasoline prices ranged from 25¢ to 30¢ per gallon.

My boss, the owner, and I were the only workers. We would check and air up the tires, check the oil, put distilled water in the battery, have the customer re-start the vehicle so we could check the transmission fluid, wash the windshield and headlights, whisk broom out the floorboards, fill the gas tank and, if asked, would put the vehicles up on our lone hydraulic lift and apply new grease through the fittings. We did not accept tips but we did talk with every customer.

Whenever an out-of-town car or pickup or tanker came through we would tell them where they could get a bowl of chili or a chicken fried steak. We also gave directions to delivery locations or residences.

Yesterday my car told me my tires were low and that I should take it in for service before I drove another 2,800 miles. The computer did not offer to tell me where I could buy a bowl of chili but, if I had asked it, it would have.

For some reason these memories and events brought E-filing to mind. If you happened to read last week’s column you may recall our local legal system will soon be virtually paperless and, pretty much, human contact-less.

I am not sure of the exact time frame our world began its inexorable march toward exchanging ones and zeros for “Hellos” and “May I help yous?” It was probably either when self-service gas stations or drive through fast food places appeared or maybe when television allowed us to watch ball games alone in our living rooms. Or it might have been when Wikipedia replaced conversation. Of course, Wikipedia is my best friend when I am writing these columns.

As a youngster I sought solitude in long hikes out onto the prairie. Now I am almost completely alone in every group I encounter. If I crave an exchange of human speech I must first send the people next to me a text then try to remain focused until they deign to say something. Other than cashing the checks for Christmas, I am not sure our grandchildren make the connection of us to them. The thank yous come by text. On the other hand, my Grandfather would have thought he had found heaven early if we had had computers then. He thought grandchildren were an unnecessary disturbance, better neither seen nor heard. Some people just wind up in the wrong century.

Be that as it may, we are discussing the irreversible conquest of human interaction by technology. The salient feature of contemporary society appears to be the general desire to isolate itself from itself. I ask you to examine your own world. In mine, I no longer need to leave my chambers to either attend or teach continuing judicial education. Banking is on-line. Taxes are paid electronically. One can get instructions on everything from curing a hangnail to impeaching the president via the Internet without talking to another person. Even toll bridges and highways are self-serve.

We used to look to our colleges as places where people of different backgrounds would mingle and appreciate one another’s views and cultures. However, even the “best” colleges now offer degrees on-line. When our son was in the Army stationed in the Middle East he started and completed his Masters of Business Administration and never saw a professor or a classroom.

Surely, before long, everyone in America will be homeschooled in the sense no child will need to leave her or his house from kindergarten to doctoral programs. And, unless the Russians interfere, soon all voting will be done without the need for polling places.

I guess we still may want to maintain contact to continue procreation. However, we artificially inseminate everything from pandas to pigs. Maybe we will eventually be able to just “mail it in” after we get married via Skype.

Well, I have to go. This column is carried by several digital newspapers and I need to email it in before the deadline or I’ll get a nasty note from some device somewhere.