Can There Be Another Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood?

A recent comment brings this title to mind, but I'll come back to it in a minute.

Wildfires broke out all over California, in part due to inaction by our private-public utilities and in part due to climate change. Smoke covered our area for the better part of two weeks, which made for great apocalypse weather.

As the winds shifted and the fire moved farther from us, the smoke cleared and we went to one of the few remaining COVID safe venues, the beach. It was only moderately miserable.

A new food market opened up in town, although not at a great time. Still, the Korean wings truck was one of the highlights.

At last, parks are being permitted to open (not everyone is there yet). We had a small outing in Duarte.

Tommy is in the full swing of school, as is John's half-baked distance learning program. I don't really intend to insult the efforts of John's educators, really it's more of a lament that the format generally works poorly for him at his age.

 Now, the election season is reaching its final days. I've already stoked the fires and generated controversy by the mere mention of ideas contrary to others'. Committing my thoughts and feelings to writing is helpful for my mental health, though, so I guess...trigger warning?

Last night was supposed to be a town hall debate between the two presidential candidates. It got canceled because one of them fell ill with COVID-19 and didn't want to participate in a virtual format. The other candidate decided to proceed with a town hall forum at the same time, with the idea that the sickened candidate could schedule their own once they recovered. Naturally, the most contentious outcome happened--the newly recovered candidate scheduled their own town hall forum in direct competition with the other forum, at the same time slot, inviting a "ratings war" since that is important to the ailing incumbent.

The Democrat nominee, Joe Biden, held a relatively sedate forum, answering voters' questions with rambling anecdotes and long-winded policy dives. Sometimes the voters didn't appear satisfied with the answers. The moderator pressed him on issues where he had not given direct answers, sometimes with follow-up questions. At the conclusion, the cameras stayed on and Biden continued to speak with the voters for at least another half hour, perhaps longer as the broadcast cut out.

The Republican incumbent, Donald Trump, held a contentious meeting, responding to voters' questions with non sequiturs and veritable word clouds of whataboutisms. The moderator pressed him on issues of his record and followed up when a direct answer wasn't forthcoming. Lacking an electoral opponent, Trump directed his bluster at the moderator, coyly denying that he knew what the weird online conspiracy group QAnon was but identifying with one of its peculiar obsessions of anti-pedophilia.

Against this backdrop, I encountered a tweet that stated that Joe Biden's "townhall feels like I'm watching an episode of Mister Rodgers [sic] neighborhood." I paused after reading that, then read it aloud to Alison. We remarked that there was a comfortable, disarming mien to Biden's deliberate responses, not unlike the late Fred Rogers. He wasn't wearing the familiar sweater and loafer ensemble, but he took the anxieties and fears of the voters in the room and did his best to reassure them that he understood their concerns and that he would address them in his administration. It was a refreshing change of pace.

Only a minute later did I learn that the twitterpater was none other than a senior adviser to Trump's re-election campaign, attempting to throw shade on the Biden town hall, implying that he was getting too nicely treated compared to Trump. Trump, who shouted, blustered, and dissembled at nearly every question was a "victim" of the "mainstream media." Let's be honest, however--even if Trump didn't arch his back like the cornered proverbial cat, do you believe for one minute that he would even want an event that resembles Mr. Roger's Neighborhood? Oh, he'd continue his plea to suburban women to like him because he "saved your damn neighborhood," but that's not exactly the kind of neighborly talk Fred Rogers engages in.

Can we be rid of him yet? Can we have another beautiful day in our neighborhood, with someone that actually cares to be a part of it? Not someone who merely wants their support so he can run off to his life of luxury?