Why I Won’t Vote for You

When I recently received the 48-page California State Direct Primary Election “Official Voter Information Guide,” I was anxious to see what worthwhile information I could find on all candidates for office.

Some of their campaign pitches seem somewhat odd, but candidates for office in any election, from the local dogcatcher to the President of the United States, can be odd. In many instances, their appeals appear to be compatible with the voters’ desires, yet they end up at odds with the wishes of the electorate after the election is over.

When a candidate makes promises beforehand, voters may appreciate their honesty when they declare what they truly believe in. Some of these promises help me to decide whom I should not vote for.

Robert Newman, a candidate for Governor, is listed with No Party Preference, and calls his platform “the California Revolution.” He directly appeals to some by emphasizing, “I’m pro-God, pro-life, and pro-family.”

Republican Tim Donnelly begins his spiel by saying ”I’m a Patriot, not a Politician.” He declares, “I want my state back. I want my freedom back,” and concludes with “Take a stand for California!”

Another Republican, Andrew Bount unabashedly begins with, “I love California,” which should be a required thought for every candidate. Amongst his qualifications, Blunt notes, “Each year, my wife Michelle and I put on the Blount Family Christmas Lights Show and tour thousands through our home, sharing stories of families, dreams, lives, and struggles.”

Cindy L. Sheehan, a Peace and Freedom party candidate, is blunter than Blount, when she says, “I vow to tax the super-rich more to end poverty.”

There were no statements from the current Governor, listed on the ballot as Democrat Edmund G. ”Jerry” Brown. However, I admire one Republican Party candidate for Lieutenant Governor, Ron Nehring, who advocated, “scrapping the wasteful ‘high-speed rail’ boondoggle.” This $68 billion, unneeded project is Governor Brown’s personally fought-for political legacy; his comparable version of Obama’s desired legacy, the Affordable Care Act.

With the rail’s completion scheduled for 2029, and possibly rescheduled again, I would finally be able to traverse the entire rail system in time for my ninety-third birthday. I am sure by then that I will have better things to do to occupy my time.

Today, I mailed in my ballot and voted for another Democratic Party candidate for Governor, Akinyemi Agbede. He is a Fresno doctoral student, who ran for the Florida Senate in 2012 as a Republican. Actually, he didn’t quite run that year because he failed to file before the deadline. Although it was difficult to find any recent information on this California Governor candidate, his Florida file indicated that he was born May 5, 1964 in Lagos, Nigeria, came to America in 2001, and is a self-proclaimed “Super Genius.”

Both Nigeria and the world are in the throes of a deadly dilemma, trying to figure out how to safely resolve the kidnapping of hundreds of schoolgirls by the Nigerian Islamist group Boko Haram. A video clip shows its leader Abubakar Shekau ranting his group's demands in an incomprehensible language.

There are hundreds of languages spoken in Nigeria, and since colonial days, English has been the official language. This infidel language alone might irritate Abubakar and his band. Other major languages spoken are Hausa, Igbo, Yoruba, Ibibio, Edo, Fulfulde, and Kanuri. Yet none of them will be found in any version of the California Voter Guide.

That guide was printed in English, and other guides are also produced in Chinese, Hindi, Japanese, Khmer, Korean, Spanish, Tagalog, Thai and Vietnamese. There are also “audio and large-print versions of the Official Voter Information Guide to ensure voters who are blind or visually impaired have access to statewide ballot information.”

I am pleased that all of these diverse populations will be afforded an equal opportunity to suffer through the reading and deciphering of the dubious qualifications and inflated promises of the candidates.

Mother’s Day, Here and There

Today’s San Jose Mercury News Mother’s Day edition, was devoted to stories of relationships between mothers and their children, others were on special celebrations taking place, on family traditions, and there was a plethora of guilt-invested advertisements convincing children of any age to buy mom’s love through flowers, special gifts, and meals.

Los Gatos Memorial Park announced “Mothers Day, Sunday, May 11 is to honor our Mothers and Mothers around the world.” It showed a photograph of a smiling 60ish woman dressed in white holding a bouquet of red roses in her hands.

The copy went on, “This is the day to stop, remember and visit that special person in your life…even if she is gone you will always love her.”

Then in bold, large type the cemetery suggested that the readers “Come by to visit Mom and receive a rose for her.” It did not say whether the rose is to put on her grave, or take the rose to her, but it did offer a 20% discount on “Mausoleum Crypts Singles & Doubles, rows E, F, & G to May 31, 2014.”

If only they would have extended their offer another sixteen days, it could have included fathers too, who are needed for the doubles crypts. Perhaps there will be another advertisement on June 16, Father’s Day, offering a tie for him.

Ironically, three days after Mother’s Day, we received a phone call from a saleswoman from Los Gatos Memorial Park, where a year ago we had investigated the cost of resting there. She called to say that although prices had risen since, she could give us a special discount for side-by-side plots for only $11,186, or for a double-decker for only $10,512. When asked, she proudly declared that the recent advertisement was a wonderful success. I am sorry that I missed out on getting a rose for Mom, who died in 1981 and is buried in Detroit. It would probably wilt by the time I brought it to her.

Don’t Act Your Age

A recent Associate Press article described the scene where a 73-year-old woman was killed by a car, noting, “The SUV was driven by an elderly man.”

What exactly did the reporter mean by "elderly"?

When I was in my fifties, I taught writing classes and I would send my students into downtown San Jose, observe people, write about those observations, and then read them to the class. One twenty-year-old woman wrote, “At the bus stop, an elderly man sat reading a newspaper.”

I asked her what did she mean by the word “elderly.” She quickly replied, “He was about fifty,” and I cringed.

Merriam Webster Dictionary defines “elderly” as “Rather old; especially being past middle age.  “Middle age” was defined as “the period of life from about 45 to 64, and “old age” was described as “The latter part of normal life. The last period of human life, the years after 65.” Another source described “old age” as being “senescence, in human beings, the final stage of the normal life span.”

According to Social Security Online, I learned that I have an additional life expectancy of 9.7 years, and I should live to be eighty-eight. There was no accompanying guarantee, written or implied.

When I attended the 60^th anniversary of my high school graduation last July, many fellow graduates remarked that they soon would be eighty. Several members of the planning committee said we shouldn’t wait until our 70^th anniversary in 2023, for who knows who will be around then. They were thinking about having another reunion in 2018, instead.

There’s no guarantee who will be around then, or who will be around next week.

What may be more important than how long you live is how well you live, and perhaps that corresponds to not acting your age. Keep on doing what gives you pleasure, not following what is written by “experts” who proclaim what you should be doing at any stage of your life, and also what you should stop doing.

My dear cousin Edith Tarjan, a Holocaust survivor, worked until she lost her job at the age of ninety-three. Edith just died in Australia at the age of ninety-nine while working in her garden.

I regularly call friends and relatives around the world who are beyond middle age. One 86-year-old-friend regularly hops on rapid transit in Hayward, California to watch plays across the Bay in San Francisco.  A cousin in Florida regularly publishes a blog; she will be ninety in July. Another younger cousin in Idaho who is eighty-three, acts and regularly directs plays. My good friend Fishl, is a leading authority on Yiddish, publishes a monthly, sixteen-page newsletter, has a fantastic website, and is now eighty-seven.

As a relatively younger, seventy-eight-year-old, I try and play table tennis three times a week, just joined a Saturday table tennis league in San Jose thirty-five miles away, and plan to play in several table tennis tournaments this year in California, Nevada. Utah and Michigan. My warm-up partner is my soon-to-be 70-year-old wife Carmen, a mere youngster. There are older players around who can beat me badly.

Occasionally, I enjoy playing those who are much younger, and try to beat them psychologically before we play a match. Last Saturday, I was facing a thirteen-year-old and beforehand, I said, “Wouldn’t it be embarrassing to lose to a man six times your age?” Apparently it didn’t disturb him enough, for he beat me in the fifth and final game 11 to 9. He was still fresh, while I was pleased that he won, or else I would have had to try and play another match.

It’s best to keep on doing what you enjoy doing for as long as you can, and whenever possible, don’t act your age.

For another look at how some older people are living their lives, please go to the November 7, 2013 entry, “Oldies But Goodies.”