Part 16 (1/2)

4.

2012.

Question from the gallery: How much do you think it will matter that Mitt Romney is a Mormon? And does it matter in your own thinking about him?

Since I think at this point it's all but certain Romney will be the GOP nominee, I'm not sure it's mattered greatly in a negative sense. I'm pretty sure in a couple of cases it will work to his advantage; for example, tonight, in the Nevada caucuses, as Nevada is the state with the 7th largest population of LDS folk (4th biggest per capita), LDS folk tend to skew Republican/conservative, and in the 2008 Nevada caucuses, LDS folks who voted GOP went 90% for Romney and were 25% of the caucus voters. So, yes, in Nevada? Not a problem.

Is it a problem with the GOP elsewhere? Possibly, although I don't have the stats at my fingertips. I will say it's possible it may have been more of a problem if Romney had been in a more compet.i.tive field of candidates, but he got lucky in his GOP opponents this time around. With apologies to Santorum and Paul supporters, at this point it's between Romney and Gingrich. While you can't count Gingrich out unless you stake his heart, chop off his head, fill his mouth with garlic and bury him at a crossroad, I think most GOP voters realize at this point that the vampire treatment is exactly what Obama would do to Gingrich in the general election. There's also the very real possibility that in going down, Gingrich would take all of the modern GOP with him, on the thinking that as he was the one who birthed it, he might as well kill it off, too. Romney, whatever his other flaws or advantages, at least won't immolate his entire party if he loses the election.

At the end of the day, Romney has consistently been the GOP frontrunner in this election cycle. Gingrich spikes up past him now and then, but that's just it: He spikes. Then people remember Gingrich is Gingrich (Romney spending millions in attack ads helps) and then it's back to status quo. I know of grumbles of Romney's LDS affiliation among some evangelical GOP voters, but it seems like it's been just that: grumbles. There's also this: When it comes right down to it, do these evangelical GOP voters dislike the idea of an LDS member in the White House more than they dislike Obama? I'm gonna go with a ”no” here.

Regarding the general election, I think Romney's major problem is not his religious belief but everything else about him, starting with the fact he's socially clueless about how obnoxious he is about his wealth, and (conversely) how much the electorate is becoming sensitized to the fact he's a clueless rich dude. I'm not going to suggest his LDS affiliation won't matter to some voters; it will. I just don't think it's going to land in the top five concerns that most voters have about him.

Does Romney being a member of the LDS church concern me personally? No. Readers here will recall that of all the GOP candidates this cycle, the one I liked best (and even sent money to) was Jon Huntsman, who is also a member of the LDS church. So my recent track record on this particular aspect of a candidate's profile is at the very least neutral.

In a larger sense, on a purely personal and anecdotal level, my overall feelings about LDS church members defaults to vaguely positive. This is mostly because I know a fair number of LDS folks, and the ones I know personally tend to be good people whose company I enjoy. I allow that this may have less to do with their church affiliation and more to do with the fact I like good people and don't tally church affiliation of any sort as an automatic negative. Good people you like are hard to find and you should cherish them without the use of a checklist. Be that as it may, that's my initial default, so it doesn't hurt Romney any.

Regarding the LDS Church as an ent.i.ty, there's a lot about its political and social positions I dislike and disagree with, and I think its theological underpinnings are a heaping stack of nonsense. This puts it on a par with a number of churches, including the Catholic church, a whole pile of protestant churches (particularly evangelical churches), and pretty a fair number of non-Christian religions (and/or their various sects) to boot. I certainly could not be an LDS church member now; if I were born into it I'm pretty sure I'd be apostate. But again, that'd be true regardless of church. Luckily for me, aside from a baptism I didn't have a vote on and wasn't followed up on in any event, I've never had a church affiliation. I don't have to be apostate; I can just be not religious.

I don't automatically hold official church positions against church members, regardless of religion. I a.s.sume individual church members have brains and agency and may or may not agree philosophically with every single proclamation that comes out of their particular hierarchy. People who a.s.sume that Romney will take orders from Salt Lake City are on par with the voters of 1960 who a.s.sumed that Kennedy would take orders from Rome. I have no intention of voting for Romney in the general election. But when I don't vote for him, his being a member of the LDS church won't be a part of it.

Would I ever vote for a member of the LDS church for public office? Sure, if their political positions were aligned with mine for the office they were seeking. Romney's don't, which is why he won't get my vote in November.

The Santorum Solution Feb

8.

2012.

Wow, I gotta tell ya, I really suck at prognosticating this GOP primary season. Just this weekend I mentioned how it was a two-man race between Mitt Romney and Newt Gingrich, and here it is Wednesday and Rick Santorum has just won the caucuses in Minnesota and Colorado as well as the Missouri primary, with Mitt a distant second in Missouri and Colorado and third in Minnesota (with Ron Paul second!), and poor angry Newt third in CO, fourth in MN, and not even on the ballot in MO at all. If predicting GOP results were my job, I would totally fire me. But then again, after last night I would not be the only person who would have to be fired. There would be a lot of unemployed people today. Which would drive down employment numbers! And that's good for the GOP's chances this year. Sorry, I'm rambling.

I also have to tell you that I like this GOP primary season. It's exciting. By this time Romney was supposed to be blandly cruising his way to the nomination, held aloft by large stacks of money and the air of inevitability cash manufactures, but here on February 8, Santorum has won more states than Romney has, and while Romney has twice the delegates as Santorum (thanks to Florida's ”winner take all” primary), his lead is not una.s.sailable. Now Romney will have to spend even more money! To fight off Rick Santorum. Who in a rational universe would have been packed away long before now.

Meanwhile: Newt Gingrich, who at this point is not in the race to win it but to hurt Mitt Romney as much as possible between now and the day, hopefully in the late spring, when Romney drags his battered carca.s.s over the 1,144 delegate line he needs to take the nomination. Newt will be sniping Mitt all the way, and Mitt will be distracted by having to deal with Santorum while he does so. This is my new scenario. Because why not.

And yes, I still think Romney's going to take it, eventually (and yes, probably sooner than later). But, hey, who knows, right? It could be Santorum! I find him a querulous bigot, but apparently ”querulous bigot” in Scalzi World equates to ”genuine conservative” in GOP Land, and the genuine conservatives out there apparently aren't happy with Romney and his actual governing track record in Ma.s.sachusetts. Could Santorum capitalize on his victories last night? Sure. Could GOP voters become increasingly disenchanted with Romney? Absolutely. Will Gingrich stay on mission to stab Romney through the eyeb.a.l.l.s at every possible opportunity? You know he will. Santorum could drag it out! And pick up delegates! And win the nomination!

And then get slaughtered in the general election, since outside of GOP circles, querulous bigots are probably bad presidential candidates here in 2012. But if the GOP wants to try the Santorum Solution, then I wouldn't be the one to try to stop them. Please, GOPers, run Rick Santorum for president. Indeed: Santorum/Bachmann 2012. It would be the best ticket ever. For values of ”best” that don't mean what ”best” usually does, mind you; even so.

Anyway, as I said: exciting. Good for the GOP or the nation? Probably not so much. But this is where we are at the moment. I couldn't tell you where we go from here. The suspense is killing me! I hope it will last!

Scalzi Shakes His Cane At The Kids' Music Today Apr

5.

2012.

The song in question: ”a.s.s Back Home” by Gym Cla.s.s Heroes. It's a song in the genre of ”Musician pines for his woman back home while he's out on the road, totally not partaking in groupies,” the most famous of which for my generation is Journey's lighter-launcher ”Faithfully.” The song itself is actually not bad, although it's another example of Gym Cla.s.s Heroes relying on a guest vocalist to lay down a tasty chorus to prop up GCH's bland rap verses (previous example: ”Stereo Hearts”). But what does bother me are the lyrics of the chorus, in which the unfortunately-named Neon Hitch sings: I don't know where you're going/Or when you're coming home/I left the keys under the mat to our front door The song and the video both establish that the two vocalists of the song are in some sort of long-term, co-habitating relations.h.i.+p; good for them. It also establishes that he's on the road for a tour while she's back at home. Fine.

But if all that's the case, really? She's doesn't know where he's going, or when he's coming home? Did he not provide her with a tour schedule? Because, you know, when I go out on tour, I make sure my longtime companion, the lovely and effervescent Mrs. Scalzi, has the itinerary in her possession. But even if I or the Gym Cla.s.s Heroes dude didn't drop that knowledge on the respective loves of our lives, the fact is most entertainers who tour make that information public. If she didn't know where he was going or when he was coming home, she could just go to the band web site and click into the tour area. Where's he going? Athens, Georgia, on April 10! When's he coming home? Probably May 4th or 5th, by the looks of things. Then he goes out again! Look, it's all there.

(Not to mention, as the video shows them on the phone to each other, she could just ask, hey, what's the next stop after this one? Admittedly, the lyrics note that sometimes he doesn't know where he is, or what day it is, but most modern phones have GPS and a calendar app, so that's easily solved. There are a lot of options here for access to accurate information.) Likewise: She leaves a key under the mat to their front door? Why? Doesn't he have a key of his own? Does he not live there when he's not on tour? The possessive plural nature of the p.r.o.noun in this sentence rather strongly suggests so. Can he not be trusted with his own key? Is he always losing them in hotel rooms? Do the key gnomes have a vendetta of long standing against this poor man? These seem doubtful. He's driving home a motorcycle at the end of the video; clearly he didn't lose the keys to that. I'm guessing the house key's on the same ring.

Yes, I know. I've drastically overthought this. But come on. These are not lyrics filled with metaphor or allusion; they're pretty straightforward declarative statements that individually pa.r.s.e perfectly well but which in context don't make a d.a.m.n bit of sense. Drives me nuts. I'm glad these two people in the song are in love, but clearly they need to a) work on their communication skills, b) learn to use the Internet to find things, c) go down to the end of the street and have a couple of spare keys made. None of this is hard.

I'm just saying.

(shakes cane) Done.

A Self-Made Man Looks At How He Made It Jul

23.

2012.

To begin, my mother and father are responsible for me existing at all, so I suppose the first round of ”How I made it to where I am” begins there.

I was born at Travis Air Force Base in Fairfield, CA, and as I understand it I was not the easiest of births, taking on the order of three days to be evicted from the womb. That couldn't have been comfortable or safe either for my mother or for me, so thanks go to the medical team of doctors and nurses who helped with my birth. Likewise, the fact I was born at an Air Force base means that I owe a thanks to America's military for offering medical care to my mother (based on her relations.h.i.+p to my father, who was in the military at the time), and indirectly to America's taxpayers, whose dollars went to supporting the military, and thereby those doctors, nurses, my father's paycheck and my mother's medical care.

My parents' marriage did not last particularly long and in the early seventies-and off and on for the next several years-my mother found herself in the position of having to rely on the social net of welfare and food stamps to make sure that when she couldn't find work (or alternately, could find it but it didn't pay enough), she was able to feed her children and herself. Once again, I owe thanks to America's taxpayers for making sure I had enough to eat at various times when I was a child.

Not having to wonder how I was going to eat meant my attention could be given to other things, like reading wonderful books. As a child, many of the books I read and loved came from the local libraries where I lived. I can still remember going into a library for the first time and being amazed-utterly amazed-that I could read any book I wanted and that I could even take some of them home, as long as I promised to give each of them back in time. I learned my love of science and story in libraries. I know now that each of those libraries were paid for by the people who lived in the cities the libraries were in, and sometimes by the states they were in as well. I owe the taxpayers of each for the love of books and words.

From kindergarten through the eighth grade, I had a public school education, which at the time in California was very good, because the cuts that would come to education through the good graces of Proposition 13 had not yet trickled down to affect me. My schools in the cities of Covina, Azusa and Glendora all had ”gifted and talented” programs that allowed me and my other cla.s.smates extra opportunities to expand our minds, aided by excellent teachers, most of whose names I can still rattle off after 30 years: Mrs. Chambers, Mrs. Fox, Mrs. Swirsky, Mr. Johnson, Mr. Kaufman, Ms. Morgan. Through much of this time I was fed through school lunch programs which allowed me a meal for free or reduced rates. In the sixth grade, when again my mother and I found ourselves poor and briefly homeless, and I began feeling depressed, the school's counselor was there to do his best to keep me on an even keel. These schools and programs were funded locally, through the state and through the federal level. The taxpayers helped me learn, kept me fed, and prevented despair from clouding up my mind.

By the eighth grade it became clear public education in California was beginning to get stretched by shrinking budgets, and my mother went looking for a private high school for me to attend. She called up the Webb School of California, and found out it cost more to attend than she made in a year. But she was convinced it was the right place. I went and took the entrance test and had my interview with a teacher there, named Steve Patterson. I don't remember what it was I said during the interview; I have almost no memory of that interview at all. But I was told years later by another teacher that Steve Patterson said that day to the Webb admissions people that if there were only one child who was admitted to Webb that year, it should be me. His argument must have been convincing, because Webb admitted me and gave me a scholars.h.i.+p, minus a small parental contribution and a token amount which I would be responsible for after I left college, because the idea was that I had to be in some way responsible for my own education. I don't know if I would have made it into Webb without Steve Patterson. I owe that to him.

I received a fantastic education at Webb, although there were many times while I was there that I did not appreciate it in the moment. Regardless, the teachers there taught me well, whether I appreciated it or not. As with earlier teachers, the names of these teachers remain in my mind: John Heyes, Art House, Dave Fawcett, Laurence MacMillin, Chris Trussell, Joan Rohrback, Roy Bergeson among many others. I learned of the world beyond my own immediate life from them, and that my life would be better thinking about things beyond its own limited scope.

When it came time to choose college, I had my heart set on the University of Chicago but I was a borderline case: The tests and essays were there, but the grades? Meh (I was one of those people who did well in the things he liked, less so in the things he did not). University of Chicago Admissions dean Ted O'Neill called Marilyn Blum, Webb's college counselor, and asked her for her opinion on whether I would be a good fit for Chicago. She told O'Neill that I was exactly the sort of student who would benefit from Chicago, and that he would never regret admitting me. O'Neill told me this years later, after I had been Editor-in-Chief of the Chicago Maroon and the Ombudsman for the University, by way of letting me know in his opinion Blum had been correct. I owe Blum for being my advocate, and O'Neill for believing her.