Where is Agent 86 When We Need Him?

The current president of the United States of America thrives in chaos.  He delights in upsetting the apple cart.  He revels in creating disorder and confusion.  He truly seems to enjoy making life a constant nightmare for the citizens he was elected to serve . . . and, get this, it doesn’t matter if you are with him or against him.  Dare I say this with his ban on DEI (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion) . . . he is an equal opportunity disrupter.  He really does not care who he is ticking off as long as the attention is on him.  No one should be surprised.  He did this in his last term.  The “orange one” thrives on chaos.  No one can deny that.  Since taking office a little over a month ago there has been nothing but complete disorder and confusion.  That, my friends, is the definition of chaos.

The United States is in utter chaos!  We are a mess!  Where is Maxell Smart, Agent 86, when we need him?

 

Remember Maxwell Smart?  Oops!  I’m showing my age.  Get Smart was a comedy television series that parodied the secret agent genre made popular by all the James Bonds films.  Created by Mel Brooks and Buck Henry it stars Don Adams as a bumbling secret agent who worked for a secret U.S. government counterintelligence agency based in Washington, D.C. called CONTROL.  Its main task was to fight KAOS, the international organization of evil”, whose goal was world domination.  Adams character was named Maxwell Smart.  He was Agent 86.  As in any good show, good always prevails over evil and Maxwell Smart—despite his incompetence and bumbling always succeeded in achieving his mission.

 

As a nation, we sure could use him right about now!

 

Daniel Strand, a professor of ethics at Air University, headquartered at Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama, writes: “At any and every corner of personal and social life, the primary threat to human flourishing is the disordering of the human soul and social relations into self-centered, individualistic, indulgent, narcissistic, idealistic, prideful, tribal, or sentimental factions. Chaos is a cancer that manifests itself within the soul of the individual and social relations when order disintegrates.”  (Chaos: The Fundamental Problem of Human Society, Providence, February 16, 2016) Chaos creates a real circus, and who among us does not feel lost in a circus beyond our control thanks to the actions of the “orange one” and his cronies.  We are in chaos as a nation and as the citizens of this nation.  Chaos creates feelings of anxiety, overwhelm, uncertainty, stress, a sense of being unmoored, leading to a desire to do something, anything to regain control which often leads to impulsive behaviors, poor decision making, and even physical health issues.  It creates a mess . . . a sense of hopelessness, especially with the onslaught that the president is wielding his Sharpie.

 

I’m concerned.  I am concerned when I see people in my life whom I have always viewed as intelligent, competent, compassionate, justice-minded, peace-seeking, hopeful individuals feeling as if someone has punched them in the gut, knocking them to the ground.  Concerned when so many are telling me that they are scared . . . hopeless . . . lost . . . detached . . . immobilized.  That they are so confused about what is happening.  Wondering where in the world they are living.  This is not the United States of America that they were taught about, that they experienced, that they support and loved.  It is a nightmare as this chaos wreaks its meanness and cruelty upon all that they hold dear with some cock-eyed vision of what will make “America great!”

 

And, sadly, that is their goal.  To create so much chaos that people are paralyzed and fearful of doing anything about it.  The magnitude of the chaos being experienced seems so overwhelming that it seems impassable . . . hopeless . . . that nothing short of divine intervention can save the day.  Not even Maxwell Smart can save the day.  This is the playground of the president and his incompetent administration, and they are exerting it like a bull in a china shop.  This is not the “American way”.  It is not even good Judeo-Christian (or any religion for that matter) practice.  It is chaos.  It is evil.

 

Obviously, Agent 86 isn’t going to ride into the chaos and rescue the day.  So, what can anyone do?  Well, there is much that can be done:

• Contact your legislators.  If it is a Republican member of congress, contact them and tell them to come clean and own their role in the chaos.  They are as much the problem as the “orange one” and his administration.  If it is a Democrat member of congress, contact them to start using their leverage . . . to get some backbone to hold the line.  To stand up, challenge, and be counted.
• Remind all our legislators that executive orders don’t and can’t override federal laws and statutes.  Take them to court.  The Constitution still counts for something.
•  Combat misinformation.  Stay informed.  Do your research.  Don’t take what you see on social media as the “gospel” or the “truth”.  There is a lot of disinformation out there . . . it is built into the chaos.
•  Show up when and where you can.  Let people see that you care.  Know your rights.  You have a right to speak out.
•  Speak out and make public comments . . . attend public hearings to give community input.
•  Find groups within your community for support or to support.
•  Contribute to organizations taking up the legal battle against this chaos.  It takes a lot of funding to wage the battle in court.
•    Call for the freedom of the press . . . support independent journalism. Limiting journalistic access to the president, the administration, and the general government goes against the Constitution.
•  Keep believing . . . this is our country.  We are the people spoken so eloquently in the forming of our nation and constitution.  Have hope.

As nice as it would be to have Maxwell Smart come to our rescue . . . we are on our own with this one.  Chaos is a darkness.  In the spiritual journey the wise ones often speak of sojourning through the darkness to get to the light.  The old hymn tells us that the “darkest hour is just before the dawn.”  We are in the midst of darkness.  Let us keep striving to shatter the darkness and bring back the light.  Let us resist the darkness.  We can do this because we are not alone.  We have each other and together “we are the people”.  That is the only thing that will make a difference.  Agent 86 is coming . . . the show was cancelled years and years ago.  As Maxwell Smart used to say, “Would you believe . . .”  Believe!!  We can do this.

 

Red, Red, Robin

People are beginning to post pictures of robins on social media proclaiming that spring is on its way.  The sunny weather and warm temperatures we’ve had in Montana certainly hint about spring coming.  It is tempting to hop on the bandwagon, drop one’s guard, and embrace the impending spring fever that is floating in the air.  But . . . be warned . . . Mother Nature is a fickle old broad!

I spied a robin in our backyard this morning traipsing around the snow that is still residing in the yard.  I can assure you that seeing a robin is not a sign of spring.  Not all robins migrate.  They hang around all year-round.  I have seen robins around the homestead every month of the year.  I’m not sure what is wrong with these hardy aves to want to stick around for a Montana winter.  Maybe they are lazy and don’t want to have to haul butt south for the winter.  Maybe they are not the smartest and didn’t understand the call to fly south.  I don’t know.  What I do know is that there are robins that seem to like hanging around all year round in Montana.  Because of that I do not get too excited . . . spring ain’t here yet!

 

Hey!  It is the start of March, and I said, Mother Nature is a fickle old broad.  Here in Montana, January and February are the prelude to what is yet to come.  The truth is that a lot of snow comes in late March and early April.  One year the lead up to Easter we had close to 70 inches of snow.  Yeah, 70 inches!  It was a great boost to the mountain snowpack, but a big downer for those who had embraced the spring myth.  Some of the best and biggest snows in Montana are in what people call spring.

 

They say in Montana that if you don’t like the weather . . . wait five minutes.  But they say that in a lot of states.  The big joke is that a person can experience all four seasons in a day in Montana.  And it is true.  I’ve decided that there are basically two seasons in Montana—hot and cold.

 

As much as I would like to join in the chorus of spring’s impending arrival, I tread gingerly.  Mother Nature will herald spring when she is good and ready.  In the meantime, we get what we get.  Don’t fall for false signs of spring.  Just because your neighbor is out shoveling snow in shorts it doesn’t mean spring is here.  No, it probably means that your neighbor isn’t dealing with a full deck.  That neighbor who plants those flowers and vegetable seeds . . . not a sign! Nope, it is just the annual sacrifice to the garden gods.  They will be replanting.  The Chicago Cubs starting the season with three straight victories . . . not a sign!  Come on!  It’s the Cubs!  False sign.  Don’t fall for it.  Even the scriptures warn us to watch out for false signs.

 

Don’t get your hope up with the first robin you see in the weeks to come.  It ain’t spring.  It is just a wayward bird who never flew south.  Why would you trust a bird who didn’t take the chance to head south where it is warm and instead stay for a Montana winter?  Don’t let Mother Nature play you like a string instrument.  When she is ready, she will deliver spring in all of its glory.  In the meantime, grab a drink, park yourself in front of a window, and enjoy the roller coaster ride.  After all, the weather changes every five minutes.  It is better than anything you could stream on television.

 

When the red, red, robin comes bob, bob, bobbin’ along

There’ll be no more sobbin’, when he starts throbbin’ his old sweet song

(Al Jolson - When the Red, Red Robin Comes Bob, Bob, Bobbin' Along--1926)

 

Be patient.  Don’t fall for it.  Spring will come . . . be patient.  Yup, I saw a robin . . . it was just Mother Nature jerking my chain.

 

Argh! Never-ending Snow!

Day 100 . . .

. . . the snow continues to fall.  The wife swears that we have had snowy weather since Christmas.  I just swear.  The truth is that we have been on a winter tear for at least two weeks.  There have been sub-zero temperatures, snow . . . lots of snow . . . easily over two feet of snow since this weather jag has hit.  The snow just keeps piling up . . . and up . . . and up.  It feels like it has been snowing forever.

 

When it all began it was pretty.  It was pastoral.  A regular Currier and Ives painting.  Awe inspiring.  Now it is just . . . “Aw, shit!  More snow!”  Eventually we all must admit that “snow” is a four-letter word that takes its place among the most profane utterances when winter comes.  No longer is the snow pretty, pastoral, or even a beautiful Currier and Ives painting . . . it is a regretful sigh of defeat.  The snow is winning.

 

Though the snow has created its wintry chaos, we Montanans shouldn’t complain.  Snow has been needed . . . well, maybe not the snow but the moisture.  Montana needed the moisture as we had been moisture depleted for quite some time.  Parts of the state have been in drought.  The state has had some difficult fire seasons for a couple of years.  The snow and snowpack will go a long way in remedying that.  Our snowpack will be tremendous . . . way above normal at this rate.  The ski resorts are basking in snow drunkenness.  Montana needs it . . . we just didn’t need it all at once.  I guess Mother Nature got tired of all the whining and complaining.  You know what they say, “If Momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”

 

As an introvert the snow hasn’t upset my world too much.  In fact, it basically reinforced the solitude that we introvert value so much.  It is quiet.  There are no people intruding.  It is perfect.  Though I revel in this idyllic paradise I know that this is not the case for my extravert family and friends.  What started as a peaceful interlude with the first snowflakes falling has become a living hell for extraverts.  The snow is killing them.

 

The snow is taking its toll on the extraverts.  They are becoming stir-crazy.  It is driving them nuts.  They are getting surly . . . grumpy . . . snippy.  They need people.  They need action and activity.  They need human contact.  They need engagement.  They need noise.  This is killing them.  Their routine has been disrupted.  The misery is real.  I know.  My wife is an extravert, and she is wallowing in despair.

 

My wife is not one for profane and descriptive outbursts.  This morning with great disdain in her voice she proclaimed, “Shit!  This is crap!”  The snow just kept falling.  She is a cheerful, bubbly optimist but the veneer cracked.  As far as she is concerned, enough is enough!  Mother Nature needs to tale a valium and get over it . . . crack another bottle of wine.  Needless to say, I’m taking precautions . . . at least until the snow abates and she can escape this frozen cell to freedom.  One person’s paradise is another person’s hell.  Trust me, I know.

 

As idyllic as it might be for me, I will admit that it ain’t perfect.  Nope . . . far from it.  With snow comes shoveling.  This year, lots of shoveling.  Most of the time I enjoy shoveling snow.  I appreciate the routine . . . it is almost a form of meditation . . . scoop, throw, scoop, throw.  I like seeing the end product of clean walks and driveway . . . a job well-done. That was ten inches of snow ago.  Now it is a PITA (Google it.)  The routine has changed . . . scoop, groan, swear, throw.  Repeat . . . over and over.  I have nowhere to put the snow.  The snow piles have gotten so massive and tall that I can’t throw the snow over.  Who knew that four-foot piles could be insurmountable!  The shoveling has sent shivers of profane grumpiness throughout my introverted paradise.

 

Our dogs have taken different approaches to the winter havoc.  Birdie—our Border Collie/Corgi mix—embraces the winter deluge.  She loves snow.  She relishes the cold and sits on the deck surveying her winter wonderland as temperatures dip below zero.  This is her domain . . . her world.  Our nine-pound miniature Dachshund hates it.  With snow well-over her head each trip out is an adventure in survival for Quinn.  Most excursions end mere yards from the deck with her hastily taking care of business.  Where Birdie has a double coat of hair for such weather, the mighty Quinn is practically hairless.

 

 Because the snow in the yard has reached epic portions of depth—two to three feet deep, I scoop out a maze around the yard with port areas for doggie business.  The problem is that the paths are constantly filling up with more snow.  When Quinn runs the maze, you can’t even see her because the snow is so deep.  Such is the curse of having short dogs.

 

Yup . . . it feels like it has been forever snowing . . . 100 days.  This too shall pass . . . about June.  Weather forecasters are calling for warmer weather by the end of the week with temperatures in the 30s and 40s.  With all the snow cover it will be more like the 20s and 30s—shorts weather in Montana.  In the meantime, I will tread softly in my introverted paradise, keep space between me and the extraverts, practice my swearing for the inevitable shoveling, and be thankful that we humans have the great capacity to forget.  Come mid-summer we will be complaining that it is too hot and it sure would be nice to have a little snow right about now.