On Wile E. Coyote

I tweeted earlier tonight (as T_A_Holmes) that I was watching Road Runner cartoons with my younger children and encouraging them to feel sympathy for the Coyote. The fact is, I didn't have to encourage them all that much. They kept expressing surprise at how things just don't work out for the Coyote, and "poor Coyote" was repeated a number of times. I understand that some people consider Wile E. Coyote a villain, but I just don't buy that perspective.

There's a reason. Wile E. Coyote is an intelligent, inventive character. He comes up with elaborate, creative plans. He has resources at hand to realize those plans. However, no matter how carefully he works, his plans fail.

We have to remember that Wile E. Coyote's problem is not starvation. Clearly, if he has the funds (or at least the credit) to order all those devices and materials from Acme, Inc., he can surely buy food. He makes these plans because he contends with the irrationality of his world; the Roadrunner, who is not the Coyote's enemy, merely represents the capricious nature of the Coyote's world. The Roadrunner, for example, will taunt the Coyote with a placard that says, "Roadrunner's can't read." Random events never help the Coyote. Emotion does not help him--he might get so carried away that he falls prey to one of his own traps, having forgotten that he has planted it. Even his own skills work against him, especially if his plans work much better than he has expected, as when a rocket far overshoots its predetermined trajectory, because even the laws of physics provide no reliable, assured foundation for the Coyote's experience. Capturing the Roadrunner would symbolize the Coyote's victory over the controlling forces of his crazy universe. He persists, he survives, he endures, and he hopes. For all his Rube Goldberg failures, he just will not quit. He is brave in his resistance to despair. Sometimes he is smarter than his own good, and it is painful to watch him foul up, and (especially in the cartoons when he can talk), he can be awfully vain. There are days, though, when he makes perfect sense to me.

Perhaps one of the most highly visible if unacknowledged versions of Wile E. Coyote would be the character Frasier Crane from Cheers and then Frasier. You can see another version in the Sideshow Bob character on The Simpsons (voiced by Kelsey Grammer, who plays Frasier Crane in the two series mentioned previously). If you are interested in a solid metaphysical analysis of Wile E. Coyote, consider looking up Grant Morrison's "The Coyote Gospel," which is issue #5 of his Animal Man for DC/Vertigo; in this story, Crafty Coyote questions what kind of creator would put such a character through such repeated agony, drawing a parallel between Job and Wile E. Coyote. In many ways, we have to give Morrison credit for drawing attention to such an obvious parallel, but we cannot forget that Warner Bros. itself, in the short feature "Duck Amuck" (directed by Chuck Jones, 1953), presents an animated Daffy Duck manipulated by animator Bugs Bunny, who addresses the camera at the end of the torturous exercise and asks, "Ain't I a stinker?" Since we laugh along with him, I guess we all are.

Sunday Morning Coming Down to the Wire . . .

You know, I don't want a "super congress," and I don't want the Democratic administration to give it all away, and I don't want a handful of radical Republican activists to control the entire federal government, and I really don't want taxes to be "off the table" as far as negotiations go.

Right now, I want a clean bill, just a one-sentence authorization for the debt limit to go up. Getting his House in order should have been Boehner's first piece of business about business--he had to know that the debt limit debate would be coming up--and the House instead spent so much time on social legislation that they didn't get any job creation agenda done.

And, Mr. President, I understand the need to get health care fixed, but you should have pushed through economic platforms, like building the nation's infrastructure, when you had a chance with a friendly congress. You got your timing wrong. I hate to say it, but I believe it.

We've had Reagnomics for thirty years, and that philosophy hasn't worked. The government's best investment is its own people, the people it is supposed to serve. If it educates its people, assists them to have dependable health care, and works on creating and maintaining a solid infrastructure, ours can continue to be a strong nation.

Fear can move an electorate, but it cannot strengthen one. When congress doesn't work, fewer and fewer of the people it serves work.

A clean bill, please, and if we don't get that, Mr. Obama, please exercise your fourteenth amendment prerogative. There will be heat, but you can take it. Don't let us slip into a new depression under your watch.

Paper

This morning, I sent two poems out for consideration for publication, in hopes that the journal's reading staff will consider my work and find it suits their journal, in hopes that my work will not merely trip a range of associations that will serve as the basis of their evaluations.

I send the poems out knowing that it will be a hard task for me to keep my mind on the student's essays, but I will read them as I hope to be read.

A Novel Approach to Raising the Debt Ceiling, with Respect, Mr. Obama

Dear Mr. President:

I supported you in your last election, and I am most likely to vote for you again. I believe that you have tried to work for the best interests for the majority of Americans, and, while I have been uncomfortable with some of your administration's associations with some of the Wall Street insiders who always seem to have inroads to the more powerful political figures in the country, and while I wish there were a clearer explanation for some of our foreign policy, I think that at heart you want more secure civil rights, health care for all Americans, a robust economy, and a stewardship for our nation, both now and for the future.

I am concerned, however, that you have made some strategic errors so far in your administration. I think, for example, that you have overestimated the GOP's elected officials' willingness to follow logic, persuasion, and good faith negotiation to reach accord. I believe that instead of pursuing "filibuster-proof" majorities, it would have been better just to let the opposition talk and demonstrate the vacuity of their positions. I am convinced that, at times, you did not take into account the anti-intellectual bent harbored by many voters and exploited by various political agents. I know that you did not expect the degree of vitriol directed against you by various pundits who would make you a one-term president at all costs, no matter how much our country suffers in their selfish pursuit.

The time has come for you to make a move so cunning and unpredictable that it will change American politics forever in a way that will benefit us all. You have stated that you are more interested in helping Americans than pursuing your re-election, and I will take you at your word. Frankly, I think it would be better to re-elect you than to choose any of the current Republican presidential candidates, but I am going to recommend something that will make the upcoming presidential election even more memorable than 2008.

It appears that the most likely success for your programs would be bipartisan support between your Democratic base and centrist Republicans who have not signed some pledge and who have true conservatives (not NeoCons) as their base electorate. This situation is particularly true now, when the debt ceiling debate has become a point of major contention rather than the semi-procedural vote it has been in the past. It appears that these centrist, pragmatic Republicans have so many problems attempting to convince the Tea Party wing of their party to act in a reasonable manner that they face a quandary similar to what you face. Perhaps it would be a savvy move to throw your lot in with them.

Mr. Obama, maybe you should consider switching to the Republican Party, but conducting yourself as the kind of Republican you wish the Republican leadership to be.

Please, remember that this suggestion comes from someone who supports you.

The immediate disadvantage would be troublesome, I know. There will be some Democrats who will brand you as traitorous--but many of them are already uncomfortable that you are not as far to the left as they would wish. Your administration can still count on them, however, because they recognize that you will still remain their most powerful friend in office, willing to listen to their advocates. And, let's face it, this late in the game it is unlikely that there would be a serious Democratic contender for the presidency in opposing you, who would then be the incumbent Republican candidate. Besides, you have the strongest Democratic opponents from your last campaign on your cabinet already. With Hillary Clinton as your Secretary of State and Joe Biden as your vice president, you would enter the upcoming presidential election practically unopposed. You could even, as Chris Matthews has suggested, make Bill Clinton your Secretary of the Treasury. Your cabinet is your prerogative, and you would not have to follow party lines, as you have demonstrated.

I am making this recommendation with the assumption that the GOP would not be likely to oppose an incumbent president who is a member of their own party. Even if it did, the contenders on the other side would just be in your shadow. Who are the strongest polling candidates now? Mitt Romney will still be attempting to distance himself from a health care plan that closely parallels yours, and Michele Bachmann will be falling back on her Tea Party base. The Tea Party base, in turn, may be so incensed by your candidacy that they would split from the GOP.

The other main consideration would be the effect on the Democratic ticket. I know that many voters select a straight ticket. I am thinking, however, that there will still be a good, solid Democratic representation in congress, because your supporters will recognize the power of a split ticket. The numbers on the Republican side will be worth watching, though, because your running as a Republican will force the division of the party. You will separate the statesmen from the demagogues. You will expose the prejudices behind some of political stances. You will demonstrate that people can run on governmental policy rather than hot-button moral issues. You will liberate the true conservatives from those who would take their party away from them, and you will free them from having to embrace extreme positions in order to shore up a fractious party.

Imagine what benefits our country would derive from the split of the Republican Party. A three-party system requires bargaining, compromise, and negotiation. There will be times when the right will be able to build a coalition on some points, but there will be others where forward-thinking policies will get through. There can be a centrist, progressive agenda that will not attempt to answer to both far extremes at the same time.

Now, I understand that there may be a question about your being able to change parties. Frankly, in the recent debt ceiling negotiations, it was clear that you were willing to accommodate a number of proposals offered by the GOP. They just were not able to take "yes" for an answer. They would have to take it from a president of their own party.

I also have to admit that I would enjoy the "journalistic" backlash that will occur in some of the media. Your switching parties would expose many vulnerabilities of your most vocal opposition. Fox would have to agree that your ideas make sense, and just imagining Rush Limbaugh's reaction cheers me up. The ripple effect through the blogosphere will be seismic.

I understand that in an ideal political system, we would have an informed electorate who would be interested in the common good, with elected officials who practice stewardship and refuse to bow to pressure groups, corporate johns, and ill-considered ideology. Unfortunately, we do not have these conditions in our current political climate. We need a reboot. Your becoming a Republican would be that reboot.

Then, after the 2012 election, let's see how the three-party system works out. Maybe you'll feel like returning to the Democratic Party, but maybe you'll decide that giving the Republican Party needed leadership would be a better route to take. In either case, with the likely splintering of the Tea Party from the Republican Party, you will have made the GOP the distinguished opponents they should be, making them better but not necessarily more powerful.

Ask yourself: who would be the best leader of the Republican Party--Boehner, McConnell, Limbaugh, Norquist, or you? The answer is clear.

Sudden Changes

A number of years ago, HBO ran Oz, an original series about life in a maximum security prison. The series begins with the arrest and conviction of Tobias Beecher for vehicular manslaughter, having killed a child while driving drunk. The series depicts the transformation of this confident, brash attorney into a survivor of a brutal environment. Significantly, as presented from Beecher's point of view, the program at first hardly deals with remorse over the child's death and instead focuses on Beecher's suffering as a consequence of his selfishness. As much as the program depicts the conscientious but pragmatic prison staff, it is clear that the prison has two interdependent hierarchies, and Beecher must adapt to the horrors of the new environment. Tom Fontana, who created the carefully crafted, compelling Homicide: Life on the Street series, created Oz. It is well worth one's attention; both series have had a profound effect on my thoughts about how people interact, the balance between justice and mercy, and the immediacy unexpected consequences could have on one's life.

This week, I have witnessed a situation that has underscored how quickly one's life can change. Someone asked me to accompany him to traffic court, and I was not certain what to expect. I have been in court only twice before. When I was a graduate student, someone had broken into my car and stolen an FM converter (before cars came with AM/FM, one could buy an FM converter to receive FM signals), a device that was worth only fifteen dollars at the time. I basically had to appear, identify my property, and look at the pitiful kid who screwed up so badly. It was a "yes/no" exchange between me and the prosecutor, and that was it. When I worked at the University of Tennessee as an instructor, I had a moving violation because a break in a median did not exactly line up with the entrance to a parking lot, and I did not realize that my driving from the break to the driveway was driving on the wrong side of the street. I compounded my naivety by taking pictures of the alignment of the street, hoping to explain to the judge why I had done what I did. He was experienced enough to keep me quiet and let me off with a warning, and I changed my behavior accordingly, not only in how I drove but also in recognizing that people in authority ask for the information they need. What the accused might consider mitigating circumstances can mean little in a context outside one's immediate situation.

I witnessed a stronger example of this point this week. My acquaintance has considered himself a "good driver," a belief most people, I think, hold about themselves. However, this "good driver" exercised the bad judgment of speeding in a school zone. I, frankly, had no idea what was going to happen, because speeding in a school zone presents a great deal more danger than speeding on the interstate. The judge described the violation in a way I did not expect. I did expect the judge to mention how driving is a privilege, but I did not expect him to describe an automobile as a potentially lethal device. That perspective, that a driver has the responsibility to control such a device, particularly in the presence of children likely unaware of potential danger, struck home. The judge also mentioned consequences of an accident--not only the carnage and harm at the immediate scene of the accident, but also the lingering effects, from the deep hurt suffered by the victim's family and the sudden changes in the life of the driver, being overwhelmed by the guilt of having caused such harm, being the target of potential bloodlust from the victim's family, being imprisoned for recklessness rather than for intent to cause harm, being the cause of the dissolution of one's own family who must cope with how their lives, too, have suddenly altered. At the end of the lecture, I had no question that the judge had every prerogative to levy the stiffest penalty permitted.

The judge, however, showed mercy. My acquaintance will be going to defensive driving school, an eight-hour class that will present graphic depictions of some of the scenes the judge alluded to. I could see the fellow stiffen as the judge was about to pronounce his decision, and I felt just sick at heart immediately before learning the decision. I am certain that this experience has had a profound effect on him as it has on me.

Please Don't Take This Post as an Invitation to Clip My Name

"Why am I soft in the middle, now, / When the rest of my life is so hard?"--Paul Simon, "You Can Call Me 'Al'"

The Third Adult in the House

Son number one is nineteen now, and he has been attending ETSU for the past year, due to begin at the University of Tennessee in just a few weeks. I have been learning a great deal in the past year when thinking about being the parent of a grown up. I had, of course, gotten some of the information from my own parents, and my brother, who became a father a couple of years before I did, has been giving me up-to-date comments as well. Going through this experience has not been that easy. I am excited for the opportunity Firstkid has, and his prospect of being engaged in a major away at university reminds me of the real pleasure of being a university student. I wouldn't swap places with him, but I wouldn't mind being a full-time student again with the background I now have.

This past couple of years, though, my wife and I have had to deal with the other adult in the house, the neo-adult who has started developing a life pretty much separate from our day-to-day lives, with a number of friends we are not likely to know past names and faces, and activities we would not be likely to pursue, and a sense of "normal" that we are not likely to share. I would like a general bit of information about these things, but I really do not expect an exhaustive report. Sometimes, I would settle for synchronizing supper schedules. On occasion, I guess what I want is for Firstkid to try the old trick of offering too much information, thinking that I will ask him to taper off the detail. It wouldn't work--I am patient as a rock--but it would be fun to watch him try it for now, my knowing full well that in a few years it will be more of his offering information as a means to make an indirect request for advice.

My friend Michael Cody has gone through this process twice, and he is still lucid and vertical. So I hope to be. In the meantime, I have two more younger kids at home, and I will just have to see how I fare in these two more attempts to get it right. While Firstkid has suffered from having novice parents, he does not seem all that much traumatized by the experience. Maybe parents don't see through their own trauma from parenthood. I still look into that angular, whiskered face for the pie-faced toddler who still surfaces, just briefly, in an unguarded moment.

I am grateful for the thought that perhaps, at times, he looks for an earlier me to surface in my eyes, too.

Thinking about Names Lately

Part of it has to do with my age, I admit. In the time before cable television brought a wider variety of viewing options to after school kids, the broadcast stations would rely on local programming (mainly a bleacher full of kids hosted by a regional personality, my favorite being "Cousin" Cliff Holman in Birmingham, Alabama) and then syndicated situation comedies past being re-run on prime time. A number of Southern people my age watched so many episodes of The Andy Griffith Show (the best ones, of course, the black-and-white episodes with Don Knotts) that we had a full curriculum of how to be neighborly well before Sesame Street hit the air. The sitcom Gomer Pyle, USMC, spun off from Griffith and offered the cautionary tale of what can happen to a naive but well-intentioned Southern boy out of his element. So many of us who yearn to be Atticus often find ourselves Gomer from time to time.

Gomer Pyle's DI is Vince Carter, played by Frank Sutton as a perfect comedic foil to Jim Nabors, whose tall, lanky affability contrasts so well with Sutton's compact, gruff toughness. That name, "Vince Carter," has stuck with me all these years, and whenever I hear a sportscast about Phoenix Suns player Vince Carter, I wonder if his mother watched Gomer Pyle too, and if as a result the name "Vince" just seemed to her to fit well with "Carter." Of course, maybe she was just an old-school Packers fan.

This issue of naming has been on my mind a bit lately for two reasons. Younger members of our English faculty have had children in the past year or so, and it has been fascinating to hear how they have made decisions to name their children, either to honor family members or to associate them with particular values or to create a cultural marker--all legitimate, reasoned decisions behind naming. I have, I admit, more than a little curiosity about how authors name children, so when a poet friend became a new father in just the past few weeks, I was ready for a story and was not disappointed. (Well, to be frank, a mutual friend suggested naming the child "Odin," but that would have been selfish fun at the kid's expense had the new parents agreed on that name.)

But the other reason I have been considering names lately is the "same name" syndrome. In my department at ETSU, we now have three faculty members who share names with internationally known performers. One of them is older than his famous namesake, and he had established himself professionally before the entertainer broke into national consciousness. A second, a bit younger than a famous guitarist, for a time had a hyphenated last name that distinguished him from the other person. The third, still in the beginning of his professional academic career, has made his middle name his familiar name to avoid association with his famous namesake. Each of these men has acknowledged the "same name" and has made, in my view, good decisions about keeping their names their own.

Open Mic at the Acoustic Coffeehouse, 20 July 2011

Today, I find writing a bit more welcome, if only because I had the opportunity to see two favorite writers in action last night, during the (usually) monthly "Open Mic" night at the Acoustic Coffeehouse in Johnson City, Tennessee. Kevin O'Donnell of East Tennessee State University's Department of Literature and Language organizes these events, and during the school year a number of ETSU's faculty members and an increasing number of ETSU students participate. Writers of varying degrees of experience and talent read, and one has the opportunity to watch how people grow as writers. These events usually happen on the third Wednesday evening of each month, so anyone in Johnson City at the time should check the Acoustic Coffeehouse website's calendar for information.

Current ETSU L&L faculty Jesse Graves, Thomas Crofts, Kevin O'Donnell, and Sean Bolton often read there. Some talented students, such as Brian Bowman and Maggie Colvett, sometimes read. Last night, we had an opportunity to see the range of creativity in our community. Ron Giles, a professor retired from our department and a perennial favorite at Open Mic, and Adam Lambert, an ETSU English major and emerging writer, both offered poems.

Many of us attend in hopes that Ron Giles will read. He expresses a thoughtful joy in his poems, offering insight in descriptions of boyhood experiences and overseas duty, moments of quotidian epiphany, and just plain good feeling in a comfortable, learned voice I admire a great deal. After a humorous warning of what kind of love poem not to write for one's wife (bringing up age, Giles advises, is counterindicated), he read a piece describing a moment of togetherness that balanced a sweet affection with just a bit of earthiness, too. One could feel the appreciation in the room.

Adam Lambert read a poem about picking blackberries with his mother, and I admired how well he avoided the too familiar formulae one often hears in such works (what Appalachian Heritage refers to as "'Papaw Was Perfect' poetry and the 'Mamaw Moved Mountains' manuscripts"), admiring as well the care he has taken with the sounds of the language in descriptive phrases and vernacular speech.

These two writers create work deserving attention, and I could not help but feel anxious to get to my familiar spaces and resume writing. That kind of experience means a great deal to me. I will sing along with a recording, and, if a guitar is handy, I will play along, too. When I read or hear good writing, I want to write.

For a while, Ron Giles and Adam Lambert will be my immediate collaborators, only because they have made me want to write.

That's my first blog.