Dear Reader,
Last week’s newsletter with analysis of the Russian invasion of Ukraine enjoyed the highest readership (70% open rate) of any I’ve written. Thanks to all who opened and took a gander.
However, though I mentioned him only in passing, not everyone was happy with my take on one of our Presidents (and it wasn’t President Biden, with whom just about no one’s happy):
“I read your piece on the Ukrainian invasion. You don’t seem to like Trump much, but sometimes you need a little ‘crazy’ to help keep the peace you search for in this world. For the 4 years of his presidency I actually felt safe. At home, and would have abroad, too, because people weren’t going to mess with the world while he was leader. I didn’t hear the words ISIL or ISIS for 4 years.
Our economy boomed, and prices for things like goods and gas were under control. We were self-sufficient in many respects. Our borders were more secure than ever, and I felt like if anyone messed with us or even other countries, Trump and America would take care of it (much like he did with North Korea).
If we want to maintain our form of government, which I think is the best in the world, maybe we need other leaders to fear crazy. This is happening right now because we are viewed as having a weak leader who will likely do nothing of substance to thwart Putin’s actions. Putin’s actions remind me a lot of Hitler’s, actually. And we should all be worried about what is next.”
It’s true: I’m not a fan of the former President, have never voted for him (nor Hillary in 2016, nor Biden in 2020), and think the man has caused irreparable harm to the office of the President and our Republic in general (in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not a populist). What may surprise some, however, is, from a policy perspective, I think Trump could have been a decent enough President to deserve a second term had he put his ego aside and focused on being President instead of playing President. (I also think the media was hugely biased against him, which continues to be a major problem in American politics.)
But my observation from last week’s newsletter that “Putin respected him (Trump) because crazy recognized crazy” was meant to be descriptive, not prescriptive; “crazy” is not a personal virtue or leadership characteristic to aspire to for any leader, and to suggest that maybe “crazy” is what we need more of is more pragmatic than wise when it comes to leadership on the world stage and with nuclear weapons (among other things) involved.
Did Trump’s unpredictability work against Russia? Perhaps…or perhaps not (to state the obvious: it’s complicated). But assuming things surely would have been/will be different had/if Trump’s brand of “crazy” was/will be in the office is a logical fallacy known as an appeal to possibility, which assumes that just because a situation is possible, it is guaranteed. I don’t think that’s a good or logical assumption to make when the person in question is Trump.
Where the reader and I agree is that there is a definite global perception of weakness in the White House that less-than-honorable leaders like Russia’s Putin, China’s Jinping, and North Korea’s Jong-un are and will be looking to exploit. Unfortunately, I do not see any resolve to this situation if Biden continues to govern (why we are electing 80-year-old men to be President is beyond me), or if power is transferred to Vice-President Harris (why we are electing incompetent leaders on the basis of sex and skin color is beyond me as well).
But “crazy” cannot be our long-term diplomatic answer; quiet strength (a la Teddy Roosevelt or Ronald Reagan) is more likely to succeed. Even then, however, there are just no guarantees.
Thanks for writing, dear reader (you know who you are). One more comment from the mailbag:
“Just want you to know, I print out your blog every week and always look forward to reading it. I often have something to say, but rarely have time or gusto to form sentences. Thanks for doing what you're doing; it means a lot to your readers. And by the way, I love the Second Drafts shirt.”
Glad you like the shirt, and thanks for your support! As always, thanks to everyone for reading.
Enjoy this week’s Second Drafts,
Craig
P.S.: As a reminder, you’re welcome and encouraged to email me directly with feedback, ideas, links, etc. at cmdunham [at] gmail [dot] com. Just know that, unless you specifically tell me not to, I may quote you here (though it will always be anonymously).
Hot Takes
For the sake of some needed bright spots, here are four feel-good stories (with limited commentary) that caught my eye this week:
“Ukraine Receives Shipment of Starlink Terminals Less than 48 Hours after Elon Musk Promised Them” - Once a contender in his own right for Bond villain in some people’s minds, Elon Musk is doing good things around the world. First, he gave nearly $6 billion (with a “b”) dollars to help solve world hunger (good luck with that with the United Nations involved); and here, he’s making his Starlink satellite network available to ensure Ukraine’s communications are not cut off by Russia. Say what you want, but the guy gets it done (though in principle, I’m still not sold on electric cars).
A shipment of Starlink terminals is unloaded in Ukraine less than 48 hours after they were requested from Elon Musk and company. “The Truth Is Coming Out About COVID Deaths” - Why is this good news? It’s good news because the American people and the world deserve to know the truth about the Covid manipulation of the past two years. I thought it might take longer to get at the facts (and you know there are folks trying to cover it up), but I hope there is a hard reckoning with the powers that be (political, medical, journalistic, religious, etc.) that puts to rest once and for all the lies told by the people in power to exploit the coronavirus. (Speaking of which, has anybody seen or heard from Dr. Fauci lately?)
Registered nurse Alisha Thiebert cares for COVID-19 patients in a makeshift ICU at Harbor-UCLA Medical Center on Jan. 21, 2021, in Torrance, CA. “Target Is Raising Its Minimum Wage to as Much as $24 an Hour” - I was not a fan of the discussion of mandating a raise in the minimum wage to $15 an hour (this kind of a jump is a killer for small businesses, who simply adjust by hiring fewer people). Thus, one might assume I wouldn’t be in support of another $9 on top of that for a so-called “minimum wage.” But this is different, as it’s being initiated by a major American employer (Target) that seems to be counting the cost within their company to do better by their employees. In a business the size of Target’s, there’s plenty of money that can be redirected from enabling the CEO to have a fourth house so that his employees on the floor can have a better life. More of this from private businesses, please, and government, stay out of it with your ever-present penchant for mandates.
Target said it will raise its minimum wage as high as $24 per hour. “Jason Momoa and Lisa Bonet are Calling Off Their Divorce and Giving Their Marriage Another Shot” - Here’s something you don’t see everyday, particularly on the heels of too many well-crafted divorce announcements that make it seem like you should celebrate the split. I don’t keep up with either actor (though I probably had a crush on Lisa Bonet with the rest of the teenage male population in the mid-80s), but let me offer my barbaric yawp in support of their attempt to work on their marriage.
Actors Jason Momoa and Lisa Bonet announced their plans to split on January 12 via Jason's Instagram. The couple has been together for 17 years, so the news came as a surprise to many.
Everyone Has a Story…and This Is Mine
Across 2021, my mother, Charlotte, invested a year’s worth of work writing about her life for all to read. Yesterday, her first batch of finished books (published by Storyworth) arrived at the farm in Illinois, and she has had as many requests for copies from the Pike County locals as there are Pike County locals (let’s just say my mother never met a stranger).
“Char” (as we have called her since high school) grew up outside the southern Illinois town of Centralia. She attended Southern Illinois University at Carbondale, where she met my father, Roger; they have been married 57 years. Char taught high school English for 30 years (she was my 8th grade English teacher), is a long-time church organist, runs a small business as a Mary Kay representative, and is a mother of three and a grandmother of eight.
The title of her book is, “Everyone Has a Story…and This Is Mine,” and is a collection of her thoughts and responses to questions, many of which were posed to her by her grandchildren. To honor her efforts and her role in my life, I’d like to share a few excerpts from her book.
What about being a child do you miss the most?
With this week’s question submitted by granddaughter Millie, soon-to-be 18 years old, I’m reminded of the craziness of the world she is growing up in and how my growing-up years of the ‘40s and ‘50s differed from her and my other grandchildren’s world. This present, fast-paced information age that they live in has, no doubt, provided many innovative benefits, but it also has required our younger generation to grow up rapidly and be subjected to life that is sometimes beyond their years and understanding.
My growing-up years were pretty simple and carefree. Some would even liken them to “living in a bubble,” as I spent my days with family and friends in the country, away from any knowledge of what was going on in the rest of the world. As I reflect on aspects of my childhood that I miss, these things come to mind:
The assurance of a sit-down dinner every night. Even with athletic practices and evening activities, it seemed we were almost always able to eat the evening meal together. And we always had dessert!
The time spent outdoors with my siblings. Until recently, I hadn’t realized how much time we played together outside. Phil, John and I were always on some kind of adventure; Jan and I spent time together in the yard south of the house, working on our tan, complete with baby oil, iodine, and aluminum foil to attract those rays! Perhaps this accounts for the brown spots all over our bodies and the scheduled visits to the dermatologist that we have to make at this present stage of life! I always looked forward to this time with Jan, four years my senior, as she would share stories of her latest heartthrob. I was all ears! By the time sister Debby came along, I was 9 years old, so we spent many hours on the swing set when she was old enough.
The family attending church together and taking that curvy shortcut around the oil well that was pumping every Sunday morning. I don’t know why that was such a thrill for me, but I looked forward to it each week! And if Dad would forget to take the shortcut going to church, we would ask him to take it on the return trip home. During church, when we were younger, our family occupied the whole pew, with Mom and Dad at opposite ends, penning in all five of us kids. As we got older, we kids would sit in the back pews of the church and find things to occupy us, like re-wrapping sticks of Double-mint gum wrappers that parishioner Harold Stedlin had given us, and turning our eyelids inside out!
The weekly Sunday dinners at Grandma and Grandpa Phillips’ house, where aunts, uncles, and cousins gathered after church. The food that each family brought was spread on the big round table in the kitchen. Family members, and sometimes visitors, would fill their plates and find a spot to enjoy the delicious meal, complete with pies or Jello with fruit. Afterwards, the adults would gather in the living room or parlor and visit, while we cousins played outside. As I recall, we had no equipment, like swings and such, to play on, but we ran around and made our own games, I guess. When we were thirsty, we gathered at the water pump at the edge of the yard, and all of us took a turn drinking from the same tin cup. And we survived! As the afternoon of play continued, we would kick off our shoes and run in the thick grass. Since we shared the yard with the chickens, we had to wash our feet under the hose on the front porch before putting our shoes back on and going into the house. Most of the time there would be 10-15 sets of feet to be washed, as the Phillipses seemed to be a prolific family!
The return trips to our home on a Saturday morning after piano lessons, visits to the library, and grocery shopping. The whole family was always starving after spending the entire morning in town. Even though it was only a 9-mile trip home, Mom, as we were leaving town, would pull out from one of the grocery bags a loaf of bread and bologna that had just been sliced and wrapped in paper at the grocery store. Each of us would make ourselves a sandwich, with not a condiment in sight, and nobody could be happier! If you’ve ever smelled fresh bread and real bologna, sliced nice and thick, you understand what I’m talking about. Somehow, the vacuum-packed Oscar Meyer bologna found in grocery stores today just doesn’t “cut it.”
These remembrances may seem rather trivial and silly, but they warm my heart as I think of the togetherness of our family as we passed through the years. And I am elated as I observe how our three children and their families are implementing ways of staying close and forming that same togetherness, among the schedules of their busy lives. It’s one of the most beautiful rewards that can be achieved, even in a world that’s seemed to have lost its good sense.
What have you changed your mind about over the years?
When I graduated high school in 1961 and went off to SIU-C, my aspirations were to become a high school Home Economics teacher. After all, I thought I was already adequately prepared in cooking and sewing skills learned through eight years of 4-H and four years of Home Ec. classes in high school. When I was a freshman, Mom and I even set out for the St. Louis KSDK-TV station at 4:30 one morning where I had been approached to demonstrate making an apple pie on air on a 6:00 am program highlighting 4-H club members. Probably the only person I knew who watched me at that hour was my grandmother!
As far as my sewing skills were concerned, I had taken all the clothing classes that were offered in high school, with the last one being Clothing and Textiles during my senior year. With this being an advanced class, our project was to make a coat made of wool. Since the fabric was expensive, I took every precaution to do a good job and gain a good grade AND the approval of my teacher, Mrs. Ridgeway, who didn’t particularly like me. (I always blamed her dislike of me on the fact that my sister Jan would never date her son, something she wanted desperately to happen! In reality, her dislike of me probably had EVERYTHING to do with the fact that I was THAT student who came into the classroom every day just as the final bell was ringing, because my boyfriend had walked me to class!) Anyway, back to that wool coat…
When the coat project was completed, we had a class style show where we modeled our beloved wool coats. It was then that I had to do some fancy “arm work” because in the initial cutting out of the different pieces of the coat, I mistakenly cut out two right sleeves instead of one right and one left sleeve. Now, I was aware that I had done this, but I didn’t want Mrs. Ridgeway to discover it. And she didn’t — not when she graded the project on her desk, nor when I modeled it! I resembled Vanna White, with both hands and arms pointing in the same direction as I walked across the stage! I received an A on this project, but I never did wear the coat! (Sorry, Mom and Dad, I’m sure you paid for that expensive wool fabric.)
So with this “homemaking” background, as I said, the logical major for me to declare in college was Home Economics Education. And this I did and proceeded to get my Gen. Ed. courses out of the way those first two years. In the Spring of my sophomore year, I was enrolled in a Food Science class, and the best part of it was that it was held in the prestigious Home Management House, where only Home Ec. majors attended classes, and some even resided on the top floor there. Since this was a Food Science lab and we were required to wear white uniforms that were kept in the Home Management House, I elected to walk from the trailer, where I lived, to class, dressed in only my underwear and white full slip. (Yes, we wore slips, as well as hose and garter belts back then, in the’60s.) These were worn under the ever-present belted trench coat, another fashion statement of the female college student of the ‘60s. (I thought, many times, of what the EMTs would think of my attire if they would have had to scrape me off the pavement as I darted in and out of the busy traffic of Highway 51 as I was trying to get to this 8:00 class!)
It was on one of these early morning jaunts of going to my Food Science class to make, of all things — MAYONNAISE— that it dawned on me that perhaps I would like to change my major to something else. I didn’t even LIKE mayonnaise, preferring Hellman’s as my condiment of choice! Another reason for the change of my major was the idea, again back then, that I would be teaching ONLY girls. Not that I was sexist or anything, but I had been around enough of the opposite sex to know that they would surely add more excitement to a class of both guys and girls than a class composed of only girls would. I did, however, complete the Food Science class, donned in my incognito trench coat and slip, and managed to make it to the end of the semester without getting hit or maimed by the early morning Carbondale traffic.
My advisor enabled me to switch gears and get me on the right track for Secondary English Education, where I seemed to be happier studying the written word, rather than making mayonnaise. I have never regretted making the change of one major to another in college and have realized that for some, that diploma is merely a ticket out of college anyway. I have also learned that one should not be surprised that a graduating high school senior with high aspirations for one course of study just might change his/her mind for something completely different by the time he/she has finished a couple of years of college class exposure. And that’s OK!
To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson:
“Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
What are your favorite memories of each of your children growing up?
Once Rog and I married in January of 1965, our dream for family life included a couple of years of getting used to one another before we had children, but God had other plans. After 4 years of teaching for me and a 2-year stint in the army for Rog, we made a move to Milwaukee where I was a “club woman,” filling my calendar with activities, and where Rog had acquired a new job.
By then, we were 5 1/2 years into our marriage, with no children in sight, despite numerous visits and tests at the local gynecologist’s office. It was at this time that we decided to start adoption procedures, since our goal of getting used to each other was more than met! But before we became too serious about this venture, we discovered that I was pregnant! To say that we were thrilled is an understatement, and the prospect of children and the memories generated by them has been God’s gift to us throughout the years.
Having moved back to the Dunham family farm in 1973, I continued as a stay-at-home mom until 1981, when Jill started Kindergarten and I was ready to go back to teaching English. I have been so grateful to have had this time with our children in their formative years. The memories of them as children continue to bring a smile to my face as I see how their personalities in adulthood align with those that were formed in childhood.
Growing up, our kids spent many hours outside in the grove of cedar trees that Rog had planted as a 4-H club member years earlier, just north of the house. The trees were tall and had branches that swept the ground, so the kids felt protected from the outside world. They spent hours collecting rocks, arrowheads, and other relics and displayed them in their “museum,” as they called it. It was established at this point that Craig, the oldest of the three, would be President AND Vice-president of their little club. (I doubt that there was an election!) He came up with ideas of things to do and places to go, and delegated responsibilities to his sisters. These leadership skills grew and grew, whether the job to be done was outside on the farm or inside the house, where Ertle or John Deere machinery needed to be moved from room to room as he prepared the fields for the planting of corn and beans in the shag carpeting.
Jamie served as Secretary-Treasurer of the club, but her job was in name only, as there were no records kept nor finances transacted, as far as I know. Being the middle child of the three, Jamie spent her time making sure the needs of the group were taken care of. She supported the leadership in helping him to achieve his goals, whether by serving as a soundboard to his ideas or as a go-fer to accomplish those ideas. In addition to these responsibilities, she took on guiding her younger sister and making sure she was a part of the club.
Being the youngest of the three, Jill was not given a title, but that did not lessen her influence in the club. She was the one who enjoyed each new adventure, and permanently had a smile on her face, as if to say, “Okay, guys, what are we going to do next?” Then off the trio would go, with Jill bringing up the rear, but not minding it at all, as she was just happy to be a part of the group! One disclaimer I should make involves a time that Jill’s smile DID turn upside down. She and Jamie decided to take a spin on the three-wheeler over plowed ground one day. They had helmets on their heads but plastic high heels on their feet! As they ramped the machine over the rough terrain, they lost control and flew off, losing their glasses but retaining their heels! The sight of them slinking back to the house without their father seeing them was a sight to behold!
The following are examples of early behaviors that have served as templates for who these children have become:
Early on, Craig demonstrated a passion for whatever he was interested in or whatever he felt was worthy. Whether it was the farm he worked on in the living room, the part he played on team sports, the care he gave to hogs that he showed at fairs, the importance he placed on being well-rounded, or the desire to follow Christ, he plunged headlong into making these come to fruition. Because of his passionate nature, Craig, as an adult, has been a positive force in encouraging others to fulfill their desires and enrich their lives.
When Jamie was 22 months old, she had surgery in Gailey Eye Clinic in Bloomington to correct a lazy eye. Dr. Ringer (Jamie called him “Roctor Ding Ding!”) followed up with her afterward. After a visit with him when she was four, he suggested she wear a patch on the strong eye in order to strengthen the weaker one. Before our drive home that day, I suggested that she put the patch on immediately, to get used to it. After I helped her put it on, she quietly lay her head on my lap (this was before car seats and seat belts were mandatory) and we headed onto I-55 toward home, as I wiped away a tear or two. About 15 minutes down the interstate, she sat up and declared, “I guess I’ll just have to cope!” And Jamie has done just that, as she has had her share of coping with and nurturing others through health issues in her adult life.
The observations that Jill made while in the club, back in the day, have played an integral part in who she is today. Though not old enough to assume a title or an office at that time, and not really wanting one, it was she who was always willing to help her siblings in their positions. She developed organizational skills that enabled the others to do their jobs, and she was happy to do that! These attributes of being the force behind the scenes are extremely important in any endeavor, and to realize they are done with accuracy, expediency, and a heavy dose of desire to please others by doing an excellent job make for success with a capital S! Jill is the epitome of a volunteer — one who FREELY offers to take part in an enterprise or undertake a task. If you don’t believe me, take a look at the improvements she has initiated to the Griggsville-Perry School system, as President of the Booster Club!
I am so thankful God has granted me these advanced years to enjoy the memories of our children.
To correspond with Char, buy a book, or order some Mary Kay, feel free to email her directly. For more on Storyworth and their services, visit their website.
Buy Your Tickets Now for Orpheus Ascending
If you’re local to Bozeman, get your tickets to Orpheus Ascending, playing three evening and two matinee performances, March 24-27, at Montana State University's Black Box Theatre. The intimate theater (3/4 in the round) only sits 150 at a time, so you're sure to get a good seat. Tickets are $15. Here's the official write-up:
“The play explores themes of mortality, betrayal, temptation, sexual power dynamics (very PG), grief, redemption, and love. Caught between the realms of gods and mortals, Orpheus and Eurydice traverse the boundaries of life and death, lust and love, destruction and salvation - all beneath the watchful eye of Death himself."
A fast-paced story with beautiful original songs performed throughout, don't miss this very talented cast who have adopted me as “Grandfather.” Buy your tickets now!
Fresh & Random Linkage
“How to Pronounce and Spell ‘Kyiv,’ and Why It Matters” - Some interesting background for those who grew up knowing the Ukraine capital as Kiev.
“A Look Aboard Disney’s $6,000 Per Stay, Immersive Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser Hotel” - Hard pass. One, it’s Disney; two, Star Wars is about a galaxy “a long time ago,” not a new one; this looks like a Star Trek set.
“Yellowstone National Park Celebrates 150 Wild Years - and What a History It's Been” - Some fun history and pictures here of a beautiful place nearby.
“Babysitting Rates Skyrocket” - Just your local babysitters making bank.
Until next time.