What Ayn Rand Didn't Know About America

I spotted another story the other day about some idle rich people who were giving up their US citizenship because they don't want to pay taxes.  Apparently, according to the article they are going "John Galt" on the rest of us.  They are going to show America that we can't do without them because they are the ones who built this country and anyone who isn't rich is just a parasite along for the ride.

Well I've got news for them.  Ayn Rand was not a real American.  She arrived in this country in the 20th century, taken in as a refugee from Communist Russia.  Her family did not build this country.  Her family did not shed their blood for this country.  She came here and wrote some books criticizing the country that saved her ass made some movies and got rich.  She applied what she knew about Russia to the United States and tried to draw some kind of parallel.  Among the things she got wrong is the lie that the rich built this country.  The lie that everyone else is a moocher who is totally dependent on the rich for everything good that comes from this country.

Well, let me tell you, Ayn Rand didn't know the first thing about America.  She was ignorant because she was not one of us.  She could never be one of us and those who choose to follow her philosophy could never really be a part of this great country.  The people we think of as the first Europeans to settle this country were the Pilgrims.  Although there were settlers in Virginia even earlier, we like to think of the Pilgrims as the people who represent our roots.  Why?  Well it certainly isn't because they came here to get rich.  And they weren't rich when they arrived here either.  Unlike the myth that Ayn Rand creates in her novels, it was not the idle rich who built this country.  In fact, some of the Pilgrims gave up comfort and money back in England to come here.  They came here because they wanted to worship their own way.  This is something Ayn Rand would never have understood in a million years.  She was an atheist.  How could she begin to understand the desire that drove the Pilgrims to literally put their lives on the line in order to worship God the way they chose.

In Rand's world it's every man for himself.  The true hero somehow lifts himself up by his own bootstraps without the help of anyone else, even the society that he exists in.  Maybe this is the way Russia works, I don't know.  But it is not the way America was settled.  If the Pilgrims had not worked together, if they had gone off on their own, every man for himself they would have been wiped out.  Not only that, if it had not been for the Native Americans, who showed them how to plant the three sisters, corn, beans and squash, they wouldn't have made it through the second winter.  None of them made it on his own.  That first winter they lost almost half of their community to disease and starvation.

As America grew, there were times when other Americans gave up their citizenship.  The American Revolution comes to mind. Many of the most wealthy of the colonists stood with the king against the revolution.  They were called tories, and when the war was over and the revolutionaries had won they took their money and deserted this country for Canada or they went back to England.  They probably thought the same thing that this current batch of rich people think.  The country will not be able to get along without us.  But, somehow, the country went on without those elite deserters.  In fact, it prospered without them.  You could even say that we didn't even notice their absence.  The founding fathers, Washington, Jefferson, Madison and the rest were not wealthy by continental standards.  What they did have they put on the line, knowing full well that if the revolution failed not only would they lose everything they owned, but their lives as well.  Many of those who signed the Declaration of Independence were ruined by the stand they took.  Some of them died in prison broke and ill.

As the country moved west and settled first the old northwest, then the great plains, and finally the west, the common man drove the movement.  It was not the rich who moved west.  They had everything they needed back east.  They were well set.  The rich did not put their lives on the line and join up in a wagon train to settle the new land.  It was not them who died along the Oregon trail.  In fact, it was not them that financed the western expansion.  The people who went west did not go to their local banker to ask for a loan so they could emigrate.  They saved their money and sold everything they had, just like the Pilgrims did, in order to pursue their dreams.  When they settled, they helped each other with things like barn raising's, quilting bees, and every fall they helped each other with the harvest.  This tradition of neighbors helping each other with the harvest survived up into the 1930s in this country.  There were no Rambos who went out west all by themselves and settled.  Even the earliest explorers traveled in groups.  If you have read about Lewis and Clark you know that an individual white man traveling in Indian country would have been unlikely to survive for long.

After all the danger was gone, after the towns had been built and things were more settled, the rich felt it was safe enough to come out west and to exploit what they could.  Did people start out poor and become rich?  Of course they did.  Did they do it all by themselves?  Of course not.  They were able to become rich because other people risked their lives, paid with blood, to settle the country.  They made it safe so that those who came later could become rich.

When I hear about people resigning their US citizenship because they don't want to pay taxes I don't think
"What a shame, we'll sure miss them, they contributed so much".  If they contributed anything it was just money.  The history of some of the rich in this country during crises has not been good.  During the Civil War, they were allowed to buy their way out of the draft so that they didn't have to serve.  During Viet Nam, they made sure that they got all the choice spots in the National Guard and Army Reserve so they didn't have to go, or they got deferment after deferment for questionable reasons.  During World War Two, some of the rich actually traded with the enemy to make money while Americans were dying.  They also involved themselves in plots to try to overthrow the elected government and to put a Fascist government in place.  Some of the wealthiest people in America were big fans of Hitler.  They thought of themselves as supermen who were superior to the average man and that sure fit in with what Hitler was pushing.  However, it was the average man who defeated Fascism.  It was millions of everyday Americans who saved this country, not a few rich guys sitting in a board room on Wall Street.

Ayn Rand could never understand this country.  She came from a country of slaves, ruled over by a very small elite.  Everything came from the top down in Russia.  To try to compare a country built by free people to a country of slaves is folly.  Those Americans who read Rand and try to live their lives according to her philosophy do not represent what is best about America.  They represent the very worst and we are all better off without them, for they do not appreciate or even understand what this country is about.

The Most Beautiful Commute

Awhile back I checked the weather forecast on Accuweather and noticed that the following Tuesday the weather was expected to be "dreary". As one of my musician friends commented, "That sounds like an editorial comment". He's correct, of course, but dreary does describe a very common type of Puget Sound weather. If you've lived in this area for any length of time, you are familiar with overcast days in which no rain ever falls, but the layer of clouds is dense and gray and constant.

However, we also have those rare days when the sun breaks through the clouds and the combination of clouds and sun create spectacular sunrises and sunsets. I have started carrying a camera in my bag just for these fleeting images that last for minutes but have an impact that last all day long. On those rare occasions I imagine that I have "The Most Beautiful Commute" in the world. I have posted these images above. I hope you enjoy them.

Generations

As I wait for word from Spain announcing the birth of my granddaughter I have been looking back at our family history. One of the few family keepsakes that I have from our family is a daguerreotype of a man in a military uniform. On the back someone had written the following, Issac Bunch born 1837, died in the Civil War. I can remember seeing this picture when I was a child visiting my Grandmother in California. Other than the information on the picture and being told that he was my Great Grandfather nobody seemed to know much about Issac Bunch

I had tried to find out about him 30 years ago when I sent off to the National Archives to request military records for him. They had answered that they had no record of Issac Bunch from Missouri, which is where my father had told me he lived.

Many years later my father was going to visit his half sister, my Aunt Myrtle, who was then in her 90s. I asked him to take along a tape recorder and ask her about our family history. The key thing I discovered from the tape of my aunt was that my grandfather had come to California from Keokuk, Iowa. Out of curiosity I logged onto the Mormon genealogical website last year and typed in my grandfather's name, his father's name, my grandfather's birth year (1860) and Keokuk, Iowa. I was stunned when he came up and for the first time I discovered the name of my great grandmother, who was also listed. Her name was Arabella! By some quirk of fate, my daughter Sarah and her husband Alex had chosen the name Arabella for my granddaughter's name.

Another weird coincidence was my grandfather's birth date. I recalled my mother telling me that when I was born my father's sisters (he had six of them and was the only boy) were excited because not only was I named after my grandfather, but I was almost born on his birthday. I came along on December 5Th and he was born on December 6Th. Then, I recalled that my father had died on December 7Th. My grandfather had been born on the eve of the Civil War in 1860 and died on the eve of World War Two in 1940. His only son served in that war and of course one of the most significant dates of the war was December 7, 1941, the day Pearl Harbor was bombed.

They say that history repeats itself, but not in the exact same way. Many of us baby boomers recall the similarities between the assassinations of John Kennedy and Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln was elected in 1860, Kennedy in 1960, Kennedy was shot by an assassin from a warehouse who then ran to a theater where he was captured, Lincoln was killed by an assassin in a theater and the assassin then ran to a warehouse. Kennedy had a secretary named Lincoln and Lincoln had a secretary named Kennedy. Both had vice presidents named Johnson. Both had wives who lost babies while in the White House. The weird similarities went on and on and I can't remember all of them, but I'm sure that someone has recorded them on the Internet somewhere.

Then there was the strange fact that John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, who both signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4Th, 1776 and later became the second and third presidents, also both died on July 4Th, 1826, the 50Th anniversary of the founding of the United States. Five years later on July 4Th, 1831, the 5Th president of the United States, James Monroe died. Three presidents and three signers of the Declaration of Independence died on July 4Th the birthday of the United States!

Now, of course these are just strange coincidences according to some. Others see synchronicity or even a case for reincarnation in these odd events. I am fascinated by them, but more so by the connection that we have to these ancestors. What characteristics must we have inherited from our grandparents seven times removed? And somehow, placing them in history makes it all the more real.

After I discovered Arabella, I tried looking for Issac in the Civil War military records as a soldier from Keokuk, Iowa. Finally, I came across a history of Civil War Military Units from Iowa and there I found Issac. Eventually, I traced him to Shiloh Battlefield at Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee, where he died in what was up to that time the worst battle in American history. More Americans were killed in that single battle than in all the previous wars America had fought. The Battle of Shiloh took place on April 6Th and 7Th of 1862. On one of those days my great grandfather died. My father was born on April 8Th 1920. Can you guess what I'm thinking? You don't suppose Sarah might be going to carry the baby until April do you?

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION

The autumn rains have started and of course they always seem to come on the weekend, so I'm blogging instead of gardening. We had a spectacular summer if you like hot weather. We nearly set a record at the end of July for the most consecutive days without rain. I think we came one day short of the record. However, we did not take our vacation until the end of August, usually a sunny time in western Washington, but of course it rained.

So, midweek we took off for eastern Washington to do some camping with the kids and grand kids. Now, it's probably been 15 years since Joyce and I went camping, so we had to stock up on new camping gear and of course attempt to find what gear we still had left out in the barn. As it turned out, we still had sleeping bags, a Coleman lantern and a camp stove, but that was pretty much the extent of our equipment. We ordered a new tent on line and a deluxe air mattress that would fit perfectly in our Honda Element. The neat thing about the tent was a feature that allows you to couple the tent to the rear door of the Element thus allowing us to sleep in the car while using the tent for dressing and storing gear. More about this later.

So, we prepared our equipment and loaded up the Honda after removing the rear seats and since we weren't bringing the dogs, we had plenty of room, although we did pretty much fill up the space. We set out on Thursday and planned on spending the night at Tammy and Tyler's in Spokane and then setting out the next morning for Priest Lake, Idaho. Doug and Michelle were supposed to meet up with us at the campground, but as we left Ellensburg Joyce noticed a boat and pickup truck up ahead that looked familiar. She called Michelle on the cell phone and asked if they were heading up Ryegrass pass and sure enough, they were right in front of us. We made a stop at the rest area at the top of the pass and had a visit with Doug, Michelle, Jacob, and Ashlynn. They were loaded down with camping gear, fishing gear, two dogs and a Guinea pig not to mention the boat and 70 gallons of fuel and had to travel slower than us, so after telling everyone goodbye we started out again for Spokane. When we arrived at Tammy and Tyler's it was in the 90s, so we were optimistic that the weather was going to be much better on the dry side of the Cascades.

After spending the night on an air mattress that went flat during the night requiring some pumping up at 2 AM we managed to get some sleep knowing full well that the next night we would be sleeping on our deluxe air mattress snug in the back of the Honda.

The next morning I helped Tyler load his canoe on top of their Element, then Tyler discovered that they were short of space. With Zander's extra equipment and the need for Tammy to sit in the rear seat with him even the Element wasn't big enough. I had also forgotten that Tyler had found us reclining folding chairs at Cabellas, which I had to find room for. We squeezed a couple of boxes of fire wood into our car along with the chairs and we finally had a full load!

We stopped to buy some more ice, beer, and lottery tickets at the nearby Safeway and were finally on the road by around 11 AM. We took a route I'd never traveled before toward Newport past new freeway construction and mega churches until finally we ran out of the suburbs except of course for the mega-churches in Idaho. Soon we were climbing into the mountains, past pine forests and log cabins and here and there a gun show in the local school house.

At last we arrived at Priest Lake, and found our way to the campground. We had a beautiful spot with plenty of trees and not too far a hike from the bathroom, or should I say toilets, since there was no shower or bath. The women were freaking about the lack of shower facilities, but Tyler, who is always prepared, had a solar shower, which featured a tiny tent for privacy and a black water bag to collect solar rays.

I was really excited to set up our tent and see how it looked hooked to the back of the Honda. I visualized Joyce and I laying back in the nice snug Element gazing up at the stars through the rear sunroof. Then I noticed something I hadn't thought about. There was a curb at the end of the parking strip so that cars couldn't be run up into the camp site. I pondered it for awhile and calculated and finally I had Joyce guide me while I backed up as far as I could go. Then I set the tent up right at the edge of the pavement. Of course pounding the tent stakes in was tough going since there was some over spill of asphalt and gravel under the dirt at the edge of the curb, but I was persistent and we finally got the tent set up. Finally it was time to connect the tent to the Honda. I pulled on the straps and sure enough, they were just long enough. Just one problem. The cloth part was a foot short of covering the back end of the car. By this time I was drenched in sweat and had to sit down and have a beer. I contemplated my dilemma and finally I thought, we can just put a tarp over the gap. It won't be pretty, but at least it will close us in. I decided to pump up the expensive air mattress made just to fit our vehicle and to get the sleeping bags set up. The air pump plugged into the rear accessory outlet just fine, although I had to run the car to make it work. The mattress was really high quality and heavy duty, with cutouts for the fender wells on the sides,which made it about 3 and half feet wide in the middle. We'd have to stuff something in there because the Element doesn't have fender wells that intrude into the car. I inflated one side and then the other and when I attempted to put the mattress it place I discovered that it was too wide! It was time for another beer and some more contemplation!
We set the mattress in the tent, took off the tunnel that connected the car and fortunately the tent can be configured about three different ways. Finally, I was down to what I recognized to be the rain fly for the tent, but it was so hot and the tent was open with netting on the top to allow ventilation, so I decided to put the rain fly away, confident that it wouldn't dare rain.

As I was unloading the rest of things and putting them where Joyce directed I noticed an empty cottage cheese container. " What's this for", I asked? "That's for peeing in." Joyce said. "For peeing in?" "Yes, so we won't have to get up in the middle of the night." "You plan on peeing in a cottage cheese container?" "Just during the night. Not during the day." I went to the car and brought back a milk jug. "I brought this along for night time use. Now this is worthy of peeing in." "Well you can use your jug if you want, but I'm using the cottage cheese container."

That night Tyler was in charge of dinner. He was making corn bread and white chicken chili in two dutch ovens. He set out to get the charcoal going and Doug helped out with a blow torch. In about three and a half seconds they had the charcoal going. I have to say, it was the best corn bread I've had in my entire life. The chili didn't get warm enough with the coals, but by this time Tyler had a fire going and set the dutch oven on the fire grate and soon had it nice and hot. It was great, especially since I had brought some beano along.

That night we discovered another short coming of the expensive air mattress. it was only about 5 and a half feet long. When I lay down, I either had to have my head hanging off or my feet. When my feet hung off my lower back hurt, but when my head hung off my neck and upper back hurt. Then there was the cutout for the fenderwells. Three and a half feet may be OK for one person, but for two, you pretty much have to sleep on your side and turn in tandem. Since we were sharing a sleeping bag there was no going it alone. I had to tell Joyce when I wanted to turn and she had to comply, or end up hanging over the side.

Finally we got to sleep when I was awakened by a drop of water splashing on my face. I woke Joyce up. "Get up, we have to put the rain fly on the tent!" Fortunately, we had our head lights(small lights mounted to a headband) and were able to locate the rain fly. We had set the tent up at home and even tried out the rain fly, so we knew in general how it went. Of course at night in the rain it is a bit more difficult than at home in broad daylight. We weren't the only ones who had to fix a rain fly on their tent. Tyler was up putting the rainfly on their tent as well. Then Joyce and Tammy decided to hike to the toilet. Fortunately, there would be no use of the cottage cheese container that night!

The next morning I woke up and decided to go sit in my reclining folding chair. Tyler and Tammy were up, since Zander decided to wake up early, so we got a fire going and huddled around. Fortunately it had stopped raining, although it was overcast. We went across the way to Doug and Michele's campsite for breakfast. Doug showed us a boyscout trick for making omelets. He put an egg in a plastic bag along with cheese and whatever filling you like and put it in boiling water. In a little while you can open the bag and pour out a finished omelet with no mess.

The guys were heading off to fish and the women were going to stay back at the camp and spoil Zander and maybe go down to the beach if they felt like it. Doug managed to get the boat launched in spite of a brake on the trailer that kept hanging up. We cruised up lower Priest Lake and headed for Upper Priest Lake, which is connected by a shallow waterway. The water was smooth and we sped across the lower lake past the lakeside houses and a few boats with fishermen. Tyler, who had been to Priest Lake when he was a kid told us about the great places to pick huckleberries and a place with natural water slides at the far end of Upper Priest Lake. We navigated along the waterway between the lakes and enjoyed the beautiful scenery. It was very shallow and you could see the bottom much of the time. Finally we arrived at Upper Priest Lake and started fishing. Now Doug is an avid fisherman and he has about every device know to man to catch fish with. He has a GPS and a fish finder, down riggers, and tons of tackle. We could see the fish on the fish finder but couldn't entice a bite. Part of the problem was that you couldn't use live bait and had to use barb less hooks. You also couldn't keep bull trout or cut throat. Of course it didn't matter cause they weren't biting. But that's fishing. If you limited out every time you went out, it wouldn't be a challenge and everyone would be a great fisherman. Where's the fun in that? Anyway, it was just great being out on the boat with the guys and casting a lure and swapping fish stories. Finally, after about three hours it was time to head back. Just as we got to the lower lake the wind began to pick up. As we left the waterway we entered choppy water. The boat sped along, but the ride was jarring as we hit the choppy waves. Just as we arrived back at the boat launch it started to rain. This time the rain was more steady and when we finally got back to camp the women were nowhere in sight. We found them in our tent all clustered on the little bitty mattress.

Once again Tyler came to the rescue with a tarp and some rope. We rigged up a shelter and got a fire going and spent the afternoon clustered around the fire until the rain finally let up. That night was Doug's turn to cook and he made some tasty burgers for everyone followed up by smores and more beer. We all laughed as we recalled how Doug had punked Ashlynn the evening before. Joyce had brought along a set of walkie talkies and Ashlynn had taken one and had gone out into the woods and was clowning around. Doug took the other unit and after she had broadcast said, "This is the park ranger. We have some little girl playing around on our wave length. We need to find her." About that time Ashlyn came running out of the woods yelling, "Daddy, Mommy, the park ranger is on the walkie talkie and he's looking for me!" We all busted up, much to Ashlynn's embarrassment. We assured her that in years to come she would laugh about it. At least, none of us planned on letting her live it down. Finally, we all put our head lights on and headed for our tents.

Sunday morning broke sunny and bright, of course, since we were breaking camp and heading home. Unfortunately, we did not have enough time for the solar shower to heat up, so Tyler's mom invited the women over to their travel trailer for a warm shower. Of course, there was some consternation among other campers since Grant started the generator up pretty early, but in spite of that, the women returned with smile on their faces.

As we waved goodbye to Doug and Michele and Jacob and Ashlynn and packed up our gear we decided we'd have to try this again. Of course, we will bring a queen size mattress and a better pee jug next time.





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