Please don't shoot the messenger. (I said please!)

I'm not sure a thought like this is what George Fox was looking for when he founded Quakerism 3-400 years ago, but this is what came to me in Meeting this morning regardless:

I wonder...were murder legal, if we would all be nicer to each other.

The Hows and Wise

 

My most recent conclusion about how and why people vote:

Republicans vote with their pocketbooks.

Democrats vote their values.

In other words, if you vote based on the values attributed to Jesus in the Bible, you'll vote Democrat.

And when, not if, the Dems lose the House tonight, and likely the Senate as well, the navel-gazing will begin, analyzing how and why Dems didn't and aren't connecting with moderate (non-MAGA) voters. 

Here's my (overly simplistic) take. It comes down to two words:

Free Stuff

If you support the idea of the government giving people Free Stuff - stimulus checks, welfare, food stamps, section 8 housing, even including affirmative action and minority set asides, things you didn't earn or work for - you are going to vote Democrat.

If you hate that the government gives people Free Stuff, especially if it isn't coming to you, you vote Republican.

And that second category includes most of the people who decide elections.

 

Life is complicated, confusing, and challenging 

and yet 

quite simple

if one approaches every challenge with calm, courage, conviction, compassion 

and...love.

October, 1980 - whadda month

 

I came across this little square of a piece of paper recently:

...and it reminded me of a time in my life (age 23) that I remember as busy, but didn't remember just how busy. I think I used to do this monthly, or maybe I just did it for this one month of October, 1980, because it was just a crazy month in my life.

The dates on that list are all events I attended or participated in, and some are of some historical interest, and just a little more relevant now because the Phillies are now, and were then in the World Series.

Here is the list a little bigger and with explanations:

October, 1980:

1 - I took an exam in my accounting class, probably at Ursinus College. This was the start of my career change from social work to accounting.

4 - The second ever Friends Fall Festival at Downingtown Friends Meeting (and the date Martha Bryans asked Mike Rellahan and me, who were doing face- and HAND-painting at the Festival to give her young daughter a "hand job", referring to her preference that we only paint something on her hand and not her face. To this day, I don't know if that was due to either the lower cost of the "job" or her (lack of) confidence in Mike and my abilities to paint something semi-respectable on Lydia's face) and the day the Phillies clinched a playoff spot on Mike Schmidt's 10th inning home run in Montreal: He buried it! 

5 - I went to the Eagles-Redskins game with Jim Daly. This was the only year I ever had Eagles season tickets. We were way up in the infamous 700 level, but almost always were able to sneak down into seats that we started scanning the stadium for shortly after the game started.

7 - I went to the Astros-Phillies playoff game. (I don't remember going to this game or the next one, but it says here I went. I'll look for the ticket stubs sometime.)

8 - See the 7th, above

9 - Flyers-Penguins: This was the first game I ever worked for the Flyers, and I wouldn't miss a home game for the next 20 years. I kept statistics for the telecast, sitting next to future Hall-of-Famer Mike "Doc" Emrick, who was also working his first ever NHL game.

10 - On this day, I went to the Phoenixville Hospital to visit an intellectually-impaired young woman named Anna in my capacity as a caseworker for her husband Nick. Anna had a baby that day, so I was going to see how they were doing. As I walked toward the front doors of the hospital, I noticed a small crowd moving toward the doors from the inside, with many bright lights moving along with them. As I came to the front doors, I realized what it was all about. The crowd was following none other than the recently disgraced ex-President of the United States, Richard Nixon, who, as it turned out, was there to visit his son and daughter-in-law, who had also just had their first baby. As I remember it, the only conversation or interaction I had with the DEPOTUS (disgraced ex-President) as we passed was about the Phillies 1-0 extra innings loss earlier that day.

11- I waited 6 hours in line for Bruce Springsteen tickets, which I went to on my 24th birthday with my date Beth Beglin, accompanied somewhere in the building by Mike Rellahan and Xandy Wells. As it turned out, that concert on December 9, 1980, my first of many, many times I saw Bruce, was the night after John Lennon was killed. It is considered one of the best Bruce concerts of all time and can be listened to here. After he is introduced, he gives a brief speech about Lennon's impact on his music, saying that without him, "we'd all be in a different place tonight." I am also embarrassed to admit that I briefly fell asleep, I believe as or just after he played Candy's Room.

12 - Eatin' Meetin' at Downingtown Friends Meeting and another Flyers game. When the game was over around 10, a small group of us stayed in the Press Box watching the Phillies epic 5th game win over the Astros, putting them into the World Series. As soon as the game was over, I went across the street to the Vet to see if they were going to start selling World Series tickets. They were not, but a line was already forming, so I decided to join them. When they finally opened the ticket windows at about 6 or 7 the next morning, the crowd had grown so large and was so disorganized that people were pushing in from all sides to try to get ahead of latecomers. By the time they finally opened the ticket windows, women were passing out near me from the heat and children were being lifted up and passed to the back so they wouldn't get crushed. I was pushed so tight that my chest was pressed up against the wall adjacent to the window. We were screaming at the windows asking them to hurry and open the windows and when they finally did, I was able to push and squirm over to the front, buying tickets to game one and two, having been told that I was unable at that point to buy tickets to any other game. Turns out that was wrong, though I'm not sure I had enough money on me to buy them anyway, which led to, well, see October 21 below.

13 - This was the morning I actually got the tickets. Having procured the precious ducats (!), I went to my car to see if KYW (allnews radio) was covering the mayhem and dangers that I had been a part of. Soon after I turned on the radio, I heard the announcer say "And now let's go to Stephen Nelson at the Vet. What's the atmosphere like there, Steve?" to which Steve replied "Well, it's a festive atmosphere here at the Vet, with lots of happy Phillies fans...blahblahblah". Aghast, I was determined to find the reporter to set him straight. Leaving there, I went to my day job, got home later that night, walking in to my apartment, where my roomie, the frequently aforementioned Mike, asked, so, what was it like getting tickets? Wordlessly, I walked over to the radio, flicked it on to KYW, just as the announcer said "...and we spoke with one young fan named Jamie who was there to get tickets and he gave this report..."

14 - Game One of the World Series

15 - Game Two 

16 - Vancouver vs Flyers - this game wasn't televised but I was allowed to come to watch from the press box. When I got there, the steward showed me where to sit, in an empty seat way down at the end, where only one person was sitting, surrounded by 3 empty seats. I sat next to that person, who turned out to be there to watch his son Mark who had recently been traded to the Flyers. The player's name was Mark Howe. His dad? Gordie Howe, then considered the greatest hockey player of all time. I was pretty much dumbstruck the whole time, though we did speak briefly about one of the players. This ranks with my painting an outside wall of a building in North Philly, elbow-to-elbow with Jimmy Carter (coming soon to a post near you...if requested), where I was equally speechless.

17 - World Series on TV

18 - Dinner at (someone's - Erica's? Can't read my own writing); World Series on TV

19 - Cowboys - Eagles and Montreal - Flyers - both in person; World Series on TV

20 - Visit Sherry "at home" could mean either my house which is unlikely or at Mom and Dad's

21 - Phillies win their first ever World Series! I do not have a ticket but am determined to get into the game anyway. I decided to go down and just walk around the stadium trying to find a way in, as Jim Daly and I had done the year before in Baltimore for the World Series, where we were able to get into both games 6, by bribing a ticket taker (with assistance by his accomplice), and game 7 by getting scalped for $45 or so each. I started by just walking around the outside area where the employees, players and media parked and entered, under the concourse where everyone else was going - the same underneath area where I had almost been squashed to death 8 days earlier. My first time around the building, I noticed about 15-20 people gathered around a doorway but didn't pay it much attention. After circling the entire stadium one time, I came back to that spot and stood back to try to figure out what was going on. I noticed that every 5-10 minutes, a door into the stadium would open, a guard would walk out but stay in the doorway, looking out over the crowd as if he was looking for someone. But the strange thing I noticed was that when he opened the door, 3-5 people would go inside behind him. Aha! I'd found my opening. So I moved in among the gathered throng, now 20 or so people. I somewhat assertively moved up toward the front until I was a row or two behind a few people closest to the door. Sure enough, the door eventually reopened, and the guard took his usual stance, looking for his imaginary friend, while a few of his new, closest friends came up to him and walked past. But what I noticed was that they were slipping money into his shirt pocket. So I fished into my pocket found a crumpled ten and a five, stuffed them in his pocket to see whether I too could be one of his newest bestest BFFs. He looked down at his pocket somewhat quizzically and I quickly slipped past him and ran as fast as I could. I was IN! Eventually I found a place to sit high in the left field stands in between a few seats where there was a narrow opening. Around the 7th or 8th inning, I got up and wandered over to where Jim had tickets through work, about 3 rows back of the very front rail of the upper deck, right behind home plate, which is when this happened. Jim and I then proceeded to go outside, walk the 3.7 miles from the stadium to City Hall and then back to the stadium, high-fiving any and everyone along the mass celebration that ensued. Jim then got in his car and came home, while I decided to walk back to City Hall and then down to 4th and Arch where my friends Terry and Denise Lefton let me stay the night in their beautiful apartment overlooking the Friends Meeting House.

22 - Accounting class. Zzzzz!

23 - Islanders - Flyers

24 - Went to see the Robert Redford movie Brubaker - not sure with whom, maybe Beth.

25 - Nothing!

26 - Chicago Bears at the Eagles

27 - Nothing again!

28 - Calgary Flames - Flyers

29 - Accounting exam

30 - NY Rangers - Flyers

Nov 1 - Melody and Steve Evans wedding

So there it is - quite a month and fuel for lots of stories to share the rest of my life. I'll also add that besides working for the Flyers and as a caseworker, I was also delivering the Evening Bulletin Fridays - Sundays (sharing a route with Martin Bradfield, who did the first 4 days of the week) and also was working as a census quality control enumerator.  Somehow nothing involving those two jobs were worth noting on this little slip took place this month. 

David Brooks and me

 

After being harangued for months by avid reader Becca (and by “harangued”, I mean she casually mentioned it once in a comment a few months ago, but hey - I'm a too sensitive guy - that surely constitutes a harangue in Jamie World), I am finally willing to share the story of how David Brooks, the NY Times columnist, tried to have me thrown out of the 2012 Democratic National Convention (DNC).

(Spoiler – there is nothing in the story that follows that will match the scenario playing in your head that likely looks like this. I'm sorry - I have no idea how to link to GIFs properly. Or even how to pronounce GIF.)

So, here’s the back story. Cheryl got a call in early 2012 asking her if, based on her level of participation and hard work on behalf of the Obama campaign, she would like to be a delegate to the DNC coming up in Charlotte (NC, not VT).

Being a delegate to the DNC had been a goal of mine since I was in 10th or so grade and had seen a young hippie-like individual interviewed on the Today show who had hitchhiked all the way to the convention just to fulfill his duties as a delegate. So, while envious, I was also thrilled for Cheryl who clearly deserved it.

And since Cheryl was going, I looked into seeing whether I could volunteer in such a way that I could actually be inside the building to hear the speeches as well. And that’s exactly what happened.

There were going to be three nights they needed us: Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. There was no guarantee that we would be in a location where we could see the speeches, but we were told that no matter where we were put first, we’d be rotated around to make sure everyone had a chance to be inside the actual arena where the action was to be. But we – about 50-75 of us - were to follow our supervisor around the building and take whatever assignment we were given.

We started at the bottom of the steps leading into the arena just inside this entrance to the left of the 2012 sign:

…and I noticed that the supervisor took the person closest to him and placed them right there inside that door, and then the next closest person halfway up the steps, etc at which point I realized that I would be best served hanging well back until I saw people getting the spots inside.

Sure enough, after 10-20 people had been placed in hallways and such, I saw it was time to make my move.  Kinda like this guy.

So I moved to the front and soon found myself with a sweet gig working as an usher in the executive box at the top of the lower level of the arena, and had an amazing view of the speeches that night, Michelle Obama being the most memorable.

This was my view

And true confession – every time I saw a supervisor walk into the suite looking for us, ostensibly to rotate us out, I either ran into the bathroom or left the suite for 5 minutes or so until I was sure they were gone.

Well, karma being what it is, the next night I was specifically given a spot in front of the doors to the media center. This was my view:

I was inside the building but on the outside of the concourse. There was also someone official there checking credentials, and even though I was paired with another volunteer, we had no apparent responsibilities.

So we just kind of stood there, looking for any media-types we recognized, and since the room was dominated by the ink-stained-wretch-types (newspaper reporters), as opposed to talking head TV-types, we had no idea who any of them were. That is until I spotted one familiar face walking toward the room. Was it? Yes!

This guy:

 

So with that moment of breath-exhuming excitement behind me, I turned to my volunteer compadre  and told him that at some point, I was probably going to take a break, go for a walk and might not be (read: definitely had no intention of) returning.

Well, maybe 20 minutes went by before some official rent-a-cop-sorta guy strode all official-like toward me and told me he was there to escort me out of the building, sorta like this. Stunned, and upset I hadn’t gone for my “walk” already, I asked why. At first he wasn’t going to tell me, only saying that I had broken mandated protocols or some such. So I pressed, completely confused and wondering what I’d done, he finally confided that some unnamed media member had complained that I had taken his picture and that it was expressly against the rules.

Well, after much pleading, begging and emoting, I convinced him that I had never been told of any such rule and that I would never even think to do it again. To my surprise and relief, he let me go.

And predictably, as soon as he was out of sight, I went inside the media center, found the aforementioned Mr. Brooks, told him he was a diva and punched him squarely in the nose…in my fantasy. In actuality, I turned to my erstwhile buddy and told him I was going for my walk, at which point, I texted Cheryl to find out where she was sitting and soon joined her

 for a night of amazing speeches, including by this guy – The Secretary of ‘Splainin’ Things:

And then, ten years and 2 months later, I told the tale to you guys!

And one bonus pic - me pretending to stop to check my phone for messages on national television: