In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king

“There is none so blind as he who will not see.” — Singer Ray Stevens, “Everything is Beautiful”

You hear stories about how a young female had no idea she was pregnant, and you think, How is that possible? You hear about a person with a gambling problem and you think, how did they keep it from their spouse for so long?

Those of us who have lived long should not be surprised by much, and yet, human nature or tiredness or both compel us to generally accept people and events at face value. At least most people do.

It’s a full-hearted approach to life, and one that has much to commend it, but this tendency to always think the best or to cruise along on the surface of things can also be a symptom of deliberate blindness.

 I appreciated Joe Biden’s presidency, even though he seemed increasingly fragile, and I wondered if he might be showing signs of a neurological disease. Still, I declared that I was going to back him for a second term.

I got angry with Ezra Klein and Jon Stewart in their criticisms of Biden stubbornly staying in the electoral race, but they were right, and I just didn’t want to see it.

The morning of November 5, I was optimistic. I thought Kamala had a strong chance, but I couldn’t watch the returns.

I am a terrible person to watch movies with. I get too involved in the story. I startle, I exclaim, I sigh. Not watching the political returns was good for my health, plus I hate all the blather from commentators.

That night, I fell asleep on the couch early. When I woke up around 1 a.m, a West Coast friend texted me the bad news. Surely not. She had to be joking. How was it possible that the race was already called and for the wrong team?

A lot of us fell into stunned silence. I had recently taken up writing again after a couple of decades of a stilled pen. I had stopped writing then because I thought the world had too many words, and it sure didn’t need any of mine. This was before Facebook, before everyone’s thoughts found a channel for expression.

Then Julie Gammack started a Substack and invited Art Cullen to join forces, and then she invited a few more people. I started following them, and once in a while I’d think, maybe I should get back at it. Art would prod. I would demur.

I finally decided to try putting thoughts to paper again, and a couple of days after the election, I wrote a column for the Storm Lake Times Pilot that included the following:

We’ll be all right if. . .

• They don’t reduce Medicare and Medicaid.
• They don’t reduce Social Security.
• They don’t deport millions of immigrants.
• They don’t remove non-partisan government workers.
• They don’t install military leaders who spit on the Constitution.
• They don’t silence the voices of opposing viewpoints.
• They don’t overturn the Affordable Care Act.

We’ll be better off if. . .

• They address climate change.
• They respond to disasters with more than paper towel volleys.
• They bring manufacturing to small-town America.
• They boost education standards, particularly in social studies and reading.
• They regard women as humans and not incubators for male privilege.

How’re we doing so far?

In some ways, the list looks like a pretty good prediction of worst fears come true. In other ways, the list looks a little thin. My imagination wasn’t quite deep or wide enough to divine how the stock and bond markets would see-saw with such dizzying speed and take people’s retirements with it. Or how the Supreme Court could speak with one voice yet quibble over “effectuating.” And how 45/47 could simply steamroll over it all by calling El Salvadoran President Bukele to do his will.

How’re we doing so far? People are rising up, but the mainstream press is not, and that’s another aspect I didn’t consider deeply enough. I did not imagine law firms and higher education institutions capitulating. I worried about the ACA, but decimating health services and medical research is a much bigger “get” and more effective at hurting more people.

I had expected to revisit my list in a couple of years, in the run-up to the mid-terms, not after 90 days. I could not see how bad it could get so quickly.

Yet, here we are on the cusp of Easter. Abrego Garcia remains imprisoned in El Salvador. Another man was unjustly accused 2000 years ago, and the powers that be washed their hands of him, too. They knew. They saw. And that’s even worse.

Joan Zwagerman writes from Storm Lake.