There was a headline yesterday, the day after the big U.S. presidential debate, that made me despair of being a human being in the 21st century. I guess to be precise, it was a tagline underneath a headline, but it was no less depressing for being in a smaller font.
The Brennan Center for Justice at New York University stated earlier this month that “14 states will have new voting restrictions in place for the first time in a presidential election.” Enacted by Republican legislatures, “the new laws range from strict photo ID requirements to early voting cutbacks to registration restrictions.” (The states are Alabama, Arizona, Indians, Kansas, Mississippi, Nebraska, New Hampshire, Ohio, Rhode Island, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia, and Wisconsin.) As for what the Brennan Center calls the “myth of voter fraud,” their ongoing examination found that such fraud is “very rare.”
One of the central stories in the presidency of Ulysses S. Grant involved his fight against voter suppression.
I'm sure most of us are familiar with what I mean by "that family." It could be the one that always comes in late, or the one with kids making weird clicking noises during times of silence, or kids who decide the aisle is ripe for a repeat performance of Usain Bolt's gold-medal effort in the 200m.
My daughter and I were listening to the radio, when the prerecorded radio show commercial butted in to say, “We only play NEW music.”
And I thought, How strange. Because there’s a lot of good music in the world. And older music is better. I like new music, but I don’t mind mixing it up with some Indigo Girls, Nirvana, Stevie Wonder, or Joni Mitchell. The melodies are packed with bright days in the Florida sun, the smell of salt water, and the rumble of constant waves. The notes transport me to riding in a car with friends (with no grown up in sight), moving to new towns, and knowing that my life was full of possibilities. They remind me of beautiful sunrises over the ocean and nights of fishing on rocky cliffs.