The gathering storm

It's another beautiful, sunny day in Seattle.  Freezing the past few nights, but the temperature works up into the middle or upper 30s by each mid-day.  The air is crisp and cold.  A long walk on such a day, which I'm about to take in an hour, is always a pleasure.

Almost like static or white noise, in the background of daily life, do we hear and read the odd stories from Washington, D.C. and from New York. 

Of scowling old men being appointed to the President's cabinet, to supervise departments they have long advocated abolishing or crippling. 

Of plans to immediately revoke the health care plan that has provided coverage to so many millions of people who otherwise could not afford it -- revoked, because wealthy people don't like seeing their insurance premiums raised. 

Of plans to do away with a wide variety of environmental protections. 

Of an in-coming president who refuses to share his tax returns, who refuses to separate in a meaningful fashion his life as a multi-billionaire businessman from his duties as president, who spends his nighttime hours pouring out petty, childish diatribes against all those who he feels have slighted or offended him.

Of a new kind of president -- unlike the Roosevelts, Eisenhowers, Kennedys, Reagans, and Bushes of our past.  Not to mention Washington, Jefferson, or Lincoln.

Of a young, whining adolescent -- a kid who's always had his way -- in an old man's body. A spoiled adolescent who has been chosen as President of the United States, and Leader of the Free World.  

In just eight more days.

Most disturbing are the reports of an on-going campaign to weaken any confidence of the American people in their free and independent press.  A press conference, allegedly called to set forth the new president's agenda, that devolves into a jeremiad against major newspapers and news channels.  A president who sees the Press as a last restriction on his ability to do virtually anything he wants.  A blustering bully completely out of control -- or, alternatively and more frighteningly -- who carefully seems out of control in order to better bully and intimidate the Press.

And yet, the day is beautiful.  Unlike in the movies, impending disaster is not foreshadowed by threatening clouds and wind storms.  I suppose that many of the great tyrannies of history were born on calm, sunny days in summer, while the populace was out swimming and picnicking. 

I'm going for my walk.  With the collar pulled up.  I may shiver, but not all my shivering will be from the cold.