Hydroplanes

It was the summer of 1970, and the shores of Lake Washington were swarmed, as they were every summer during Seafair.  I had just graduated from high school, and the summer was one long party.

Back in the day, we used to be able to drive our cars around the point in Seward Park, and park in lines that stretched all the way around.  We would show up in the morning and party into the night.  Many a baby was conceived in the bushes along the high banks, and the beer bottles disappeared whenever a Seattle cop car went cruising by on the rare occasions we saw them.

When race day came, we filled our coolers with food and beer and headed out early, knowing which back streets were most likely to still have a few parking spots left, after all the friends and relatives of the folks who lived along the race course filled up the parking lots days early.  We would carry our stuff down to the shore, and stake out our spots with blankets, the advance crew being forced to sit tight and hold the spots till enough bodies showed up to secure the claim.  Then we were free to wander, from one end to the other of the steep banks below the walking trail, now crowded with thousands of families from the log boom to the pits.  The shallow waters swarmed with flotation devices and swimmers ducking the hot sun as the occasional patrol boat cruised by to shoo the adventurous types back from the buoys that marked the race course.  Transistor radios blared their tinny coverage from every blanket as KJR and KOL competed with KOMO for the passing ears.  The smart ones came prepared with foul weather gear and tarps in case it rained, and everyone was down there together, kids, parents, grandmas, neighbors, all smiling and having a good time.

This was towards the end of the era of piston-engine-driven unlimited hydroplanes, and the Pay n Pak was attempting to start a new conversation with a boat powered by twin Chrysler Hemi blown drag race motors against the prevailing Rolls Merlin and Allison aircraft engines left over from WWII that were starting to get hard to find, and harder to get any more power out of without blowing them up in the middle of a race, not an unusual sight.

There was a moment that occurred, in the middle of heat 1B, that was seared into my memory forever.  As the boats came around the third turn, with the Pay n Pak in the lead, and those two American drag race engines at full song together made a noise that brought all of us on the shore to our feet spontaneously, this one girl, seated about 5 rows directly below me, clad in a cute little blue polka-dot bikini, well, when she leaped to her feet, her bikini bottom stayed behind, and all the young men above and behind her went into hysterics.  I forget who won the race.  It was a classic moment in the historical event that was hydroplane race day in Seattle.

So today we hear that the last local television station that had always broadcast the event live was dropping out.  Not enough people watch it anymore, and ain’t that a shame.

I think I know why it happened.  Some years back, somebody decided to monetize the event.  Drunken fools had always been a problem down on the beach, and the neighbors had been complaining for years about parking and traffic hassles, but I think mostly some entrepreneurial types looked at all those people and started wondering how much money could be extracted from an event of this size.  The same thing that happened to the rock festivals happened to large public gatherings all over the country, and always for reasons that boiled down to two things:  money and control.

I think it is another lesson in unintended consequences.  If you look at short term goals only, you may miss out on the long term consequences of decisions made to support those goals.  The police and the neighbors got tired of all the partying and the messes around the Seward Park Loop, and closed off the road to vehicles, so nobody goes there anymore.  The former destination for young people from all over the region has drifted back into being a local park mostly visited by local people, which I’m sure makes them happy.  Just like the locals will be glad to see the inevitable end of hydroplane racing, and the disruption and noise that comes withit.

But if you really want to know why it’s all grinding to a halt, look back at that decision to fence off the shores of the public park, and charge the citizens whose taxes paid for that park to come there.  Look at the beer garden, with their ridiculous prices and their groups of people standing around like dogs in a pen with nowhere to go, while the cops at the gates make sure nobody smuggles in their own.  Look at the executive suites in all the prime viewing locations, where the privileged elite saunter past the guards to eat delicacies and imbibe high class drinks while the hoi polloi shuffle by outside, or line up at the sani-kans.

When the decision was made to cut off the public from their own park, the unintended consequence was to raise a generation of kids for whom that annual party was no longer an important part of their lives.  Why would it be any wonder that that is exactly what happened?  :-{)}

Yakama River Canyon, 2007

With the road on one side

And the train tracks on the other,

This timeless dance

Of slowly falling water

Is captured by the works of Man.

Until the skies open

And the deluge falls

And lays to ruin all we’ve done,

Like Tinker toys and Lincoln logs.

Who will look on us

From the other side

And judge us by our works?

Who will weep,

And who will say

We had it coming?

How to get big money out of politics

Here is another in my series of public policy discussions that I submit to you to stimulate discussion and get people thinking about stuff, maybe in unconventional ways.

Many of us agree that the Supreme Court’s Citizens United decision was a blow to American Democracy.  It may have somehow stuffed itself into a nook afforded by a group of Founding Fathers for whom $1,000 was a princely sum, and the printing press was the only form of long distance communication available at the time, but the effect in today’s world is obvious:  A small group of oligarchs have assumed their rightful places in control of the world’s economy, and in turn, its political processes.  It so easily explains why pipeline profits are more important than clean water for indigenous tribes, and why the global arms market is approaching the $100 bn mark, with the U.S. leading the way.

Bernie Sanders has been the most effective communicator of this reality, and his approach to fundraising, with extensive online fulfillment of all those $27 donations, made history, and almost pulled off the upset against a Democratic Party leadership whose minds were made up in advance.

More important than the money, though, is the way Bernie could rouse the citizenry in support of his ideas, and use the public airwaves on Facebook, Twitter and the like to raise and continue that support.  This process, the Bernie revolution you could call it, continues today, and is making a huge difference in politics in America.  Everyone realizes now that it is our duty as citizens to get involved in local politics, show our faces and take stands for ideas in which we believe.

But I am here to point out that we have, with the fundraising success of all the online efforts, become our own worst enemy, and perpetuated the problem in so doing.  The proof of this is in your inbox.

Look there, and what do you see?  Email after email, always ending with an opportunity for you to donate a small amount of money.  Check your facebook page, and the process is the same.  Always another chance to put your money where your mouth is, be it Planned Parenthood, Women’s Rights, Immigrants, or, above all, this wonderful person who is running for office somewhere other than where you live.

I filled out a few surveys in the past offered by the Republican Party, and they must not have liked my answers, not to mention the nonexistent donations I included, so I don’t hear from them much these days, but I assume for those who are still on their list the feel is the same, and that is the basis of my concern.

With the exception of the occasional George Soros, there’s no way the Democrats could match the Republicans dollar for big dollar, so Bernie showed them how to go small, and overwhelm them with numbers.

The basic Idea is this:  We should limit our donations, just like we limit our activism, to jurisdictions in which we have a stake in the game.  That is, in our local City government, County administration, State politics, and national races or contests.

We should deny donations to any other than those, no matter how worthy they may be.  Much as I like Elizabeth Warren, she’s not getting any money from me until she runs for President or I move to Massachusetts, whichever comes first.

This idea allows me to donate to the anti-DAPL folks, for example, and any other national issue group like the NRA or Voting rights, but it keeps my money out of places where it doesn’t belong, like other state races.  There’s a basic politeness we extend to our neighbors, an unspoken promise to keep our nose out of their business, as long as they don’t cause problems for us, with an understanding we will be there for them if they need us.  That concept applies across state lines, and helps explain the defensiveness you might experience when you complain to someone in North Carolina about their governor.

What does big money in politics buy?  Well, ad time for one, TV commercials aimed at a particular audience.  But, is anyone listening?  A Facebook post or a tweet is free, and reaches all your friends and followers, so who needs the expensive TV ad? The big money also pays for thousands of political flacks spewing negative garbage that does nothing beyond raising blood pressure on all sides.

My contention is that if you remove anyone who is making a living from politics, on any side of any issue, the content generators, the book writers, the talking heads and bloviators, if you could take down all their stuff, you would quickly realize we don’t need any of it!  Not only that, but you could maybe even clear the board so we could, as a people, have reasoned, rational discourse about decisions that need to be made, ideas that should be shared, and policies that need to be implemented.

So my message to the Democrats is this:  I am going to do what you should also be doing, if you are serious about getting big money out of politics.  You need to keep any money raised on any decision, race or campaign limited to donations only from those who are directly affected by that campaign, and have a legitimate voice in that campaign.  That means you should refuse any donation received from out-of-state on any statewide race.  In fact, you should not be soliciting donations from anyone who does not live in that state, county or city.  No national Democratic Party donations should be used to push any statewide issues, or target any statewide races with out-of-state money. Think of the effect of just one part of this idea.  Suppose no more commercials on TV or radio leading up to the election?  You were just paying the ad agencies, production teams and network staff to do all that work, anyway, only for the audience to change the channel or go take a piss or get another beer.  Save the money.

The Republicans, of course, should also do the same, but that’s a joke, and we all know it.  My point is, Bernie has shown us how to use the Internet to spread the word most effectively without spending all that money, and that people power trumps big bucks every time, so you can beat the big money if you just work with the grass roots of the country, county by county, state by state.

So if anyone tells you the Democrats are forced to raise big money because the Republicans are going to do it anyway, you ask, “So the answer to big ol’ Hogs rooting around in the public trough is to get some Hogs of our own?  I don’t think so.  Why don’t we make bacon out of those Hogs and stop throwing money down that particular rathole?”  Maybe we’d all be better off, and have something to eat as well.  :-{)}