The Sunday Snewz Issue No. 11
March 26, 2023: Low Country Livin'
After extending her calloused, well-weathered hand in a shake meant to send a clear message-I find it necessary to prove my strength by putting your hand in a vice grip, the lanky, premature grey natural beauty went on to tell us, “we aren’t some Charleston Republicans out here. I’m from Ithaca, New York and we’re Democrats who actually believe in climate change.” Nice to meet you too. A whole ten minutes on this private island sanctuary and I’m already met by a narrow-minded ideologue who thinks the world is made up of two classes of people - her side and the other side. Is there nowhere safe from political nonsense anymore? If you can’t find freedom from political divisiveness on a private island, 65% of which is made up of a nature preserve protected in perpetuity, I’m afraid there is no place on earth void of idiots.
The remainder of our island tour was much more peaceful than the first few minutes. Elitist Annie Oakley aside, the island is a dream come true. Accessible only by boat, pristine marshlands on the backside, unspoiled beaches without a single footprint in the sand on the other. We were introduced to the bald eagle who nests high above the tree tops, the pink spoonbills who somehow live without issue in the same waters as the massive mama alligator and her babies and the not so welcoming water moccasin, lazily sunning himself on the path. Resting quietly until our golf cart clipped the end of his tail (golf cart because there are no motorized vehicles allowed.) Can hardly blame him for being a bit haughty by the intrusion.
After much consideration, we chose a magnificent ocean-front lot where we will create one of our future homes. If delicate pink birds can live in harmony with spiny, leathered reptiles, I too can live in harmony with the overly opinionated, leathered conservationist. Just as I’ll do with the venomous snakes and the gators, I’ll keep a safe distance.
We are headed to the low country ya’ll!
I would normally never take two hours of my precious time to watch a House Judiciary hearing like the Weaponization Select Subcommittee but considering I was held captive on a Southwest flight across the country, I figured life couldn’t get much worse. I was wrong.
The committee was formed to look into what
and Michael Schellenberger, among a handful of other journalist discovered when they were given access to the inner-workings over at Twitter. If you haven't been following this story, you should be. It surpasses the WaterGate scandal in scope and if it weren't in a time where stories of government corruption were being released every day, it would be the story of the century.The two "so-called journalists" as hyphenated Debbie Wasserman Schultz insultingly referred to them, were invited to testify before the subcommittee. This is an important point to remember - these two highly decorated and respected journalists were invited by our government to give testimony about the blatant misconduct of government agencies in regards to our First Amendment. This is not a partisan issue - it is an issue of the U.S. government using its powers to deny its citizens the right to free speech.
It takes a lot to surprise me and even more for me to think less of politicians than I already do but Democrats on the select sub-committee rose to the challenge. Ranking member Stacy Plaskett accused the two of being a threat to the safety of anyone who disagreed with them, misrepresented them as Republican witnesses when in fact both are traditional, ACLU card-carrying Democrats and generally demanded the journalists reveal their sources. Colin Allred showed a tremendous display of ignorance when he arrogantly asked them to "take off their tinfoil hats" and Sylvia Garcia showed us just how disconnected from reality old people in politics really are, when she stated she had no idea who
is and asked if the three of them were in this whole things as "some sort of threesome."To put it mildly, the entire display was jaw dropping. I thought I knew-well just how divided and disgusting our government is but to see Democrats treat invited guests with such a high level of disrespect and witness how blinded they are by ideology - I have no hope our government is salvageable. Not only is the party who historically defended the First Amendment sitting by idly as it is being trompled by our three-letter agencies, but the FTC is expressly targeting journalists for this investigation. This is down-right terrifying.
Schellenberger put it best when he said, “It’s chilling, I mean it’s disturbing. I never thought I would see this in the United States of America. I’ve lived in a bunch of authoritarian countries, I visited a bunch of authoritarian countries - I never thought this kind of thing would be going on here.”
If you happen to find yourself trapped in a smelly tube whizzing through the air at 700 mph, watch the full hearing.
If you only have 17 minutes and would rather get the gist of the circus with some belly laughs mixed in, watch Russell Brand’s monologue instead. I would recommend the latter.
By the time I landed in South Carolina, my palms were dripping sweat, my ass hurt and I felt like I wanted to start a fight of my own. No wonder our government officials across the board are such miserable human beings. If all you did all day long was sling insults at other people, your life would be miserable too. Which is exactly why nobody with half a soul and zest for life wants to get involved in politics.
The culture in the South is something that fascinates me. Maybe it’s because I grew up in Montana, a place with no culture. Or maybe it’s just because I love experiencing different cultures in general. I’m curious by nature - which explains my obsession with travel. I read a few books about every place I travel, both before I go and after I return. I enjoy comparing and contrasting what I believed about a place before I visited and what I believe after having experienced it first-hand.
We visited Charleston, SC last year for spring break, which prompted us to begin our search for property in the area. We love the food, the people, the old buildings and most importantly, the big city feel without being in a massive city. I am also endlessly curious about the roots of slavery in our country and how, over time, race relations have shifted. Rather than a steady improvement as one might expect or some mistakenly assume, racial issues in our country seem to ebb and flow. In my opinion, flowing backwards in terms of acceptance in most recent years.
On this trip to Charleston, we visited the Old Slave Museum. It’s a somber experience which leaves you with a sort of gnawing in your stomach. Not the hunger pains thinking of the fresh oysters you will devour at lunchtime, but a combination of sickness in knowing the evil living inside human beings and a yearning to understand it. I try hard not to go into places like this with any preconceived notions or commonly held beliefs. Instead I look at the people in the pictures, both slaves and free, and absorb the experience from a human perspective - not a political one. No pictures are allowed inside so I don’t have a visual to share, but there is a bill of sale on the wall which contains the names of about two dozen slaves being sold inside this slave trading post. Little Patricia - age 2 years and Hector - age 7 stood out to me. On the adjacent wall is a price list detailing the value of each slave based upon their age. According to the chart, Patricia’s life was worth $125 and Hector a bit more at $250.
What is my life worth? What is your life worth? More than trying to understand or judge the injustices of those times, what is most important is not to repeat them.
After a few days in Charleston, we ventured down south a little further to Savannah. A place I hope my daughter will choose to spend some time learning music and humanities, or any other area of interest she seeks during her next adventure in life. One of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited - again, a big city vibe in a small city package. We like to eat dinner at the bar so we can visit with bartenders who know all the best places to eat and talk to locals to better understand the guts of the city. This is a place we plan to spend a lot of time in the future so we want to understand it well. The bar at The Old Pink House did not disappoint. Squeezed in shoulder-to-shoulder, a bald-headed Savannah native who had returned to help care for his aging, demented father was ready and willing to give me the low-down. Flamboyantly gay, adorned with expensive bracelets on one arm and a boyfriend for hire on the other. About in his mid-fifties, his non-English speaking friend he met on a recent vacation was at least twenty years younger. We talked and shared stories of aging parents, Covid lockdowns, political divisiveness and questioned when life is supposed to get easier. Periodically he would turn to his young partner and try to engage him in the conversation too but both the English and the subject matter weren’t understood. The black bartender, also being a Savannah native kept referring to him as “boss” and it was making me extremely uneasy. There is this thing about the South, what I would refer to as an eerie acceptance of inequality. White people being referred to as “boss” in such a nonchalant way after decades of men being whipped and forced to call someone boss seems like territory best left in the past. Sort of like black people calling one another the N-word. Why?
I was equally curious about my new friend’s boyfriend as I was about why he was comfortable with this bartender calling him boss, but I figured asking him about both was a bit too much. So I opted to explore the race topic - that seemed to be more my business. He explained it was a term of endearment and that I was the one seeing their race - they were not. He was right. Had it been a white bartender calling the customer, either black, white or any other shade, “boss” I wouldn’t have batted an eye. Lesson learned.
My assumptions into a culture I do not understand are a perfect example of what is happening all around us. People who know very little, or nothing at all expressing opinions and views on issues that really don’t concern them. I’m glad I asked because I learned a valuable lesson. I’m from the North, not the South. While it is important to learn about other cultures, we need not mistake that for understanding the complexity of their issues.
Read books. Talk to other people. You don't have to be right, you just have to be willing to be wrong. Avoid putting your nose into matters where they don’t belong. And if you want to better understand race issues in our current times, I highly recommend reading and listening to
. He is an ex-Harvard professsor, a scholar, and a recovered cocaine addict. My kind of guy.
It is important to live with intention. Most people wake up every day, put on their socks and shoes and walk around the world without any real thought as to why. Why do you go to work every day? Yes to make money and pay your bills - but for what end? To retire, live on a budget and play golf a few times per week. Or maybe you stay at home with your kids right now - what is your intention for them? To sit quietly through school, where they will learn to be an obedient worker bee for somebody else so they too, in fifty years and retire, live on a budget and golf a few times per week?
There is more to life than meets the eye. I came across a beautiful message given by an educator recently, that wen’t like this - “we are in a time of reseeding.” With all the upheaval we see around us, you have an opportunity to reseed the way you live, to reseed the way you think.
My family is reseeding by being intentional. Seeking out places we want to live in the future - which our new property in Dewees Island is a result. Where do you want to plant your roots? It doesn’t have to require a lot of money - it just requires a lot of intention.