Mountain Views News, Combined Edition Saturday, December 19, 2020

12

OPINION

 Mountain Views News Saturday, December 19, 2020 


PROTESTS

STUART TOLCHIN

MOUNTAIN 
VIEWS

NEWS

PUBLISHER/ EDITOR

Susan Henderson

PASADENA CITY 
EDITOR

Dean Lee 

PRODUCTION

SALES

Patricia Colonello

626-355-2737

626-818-2698

WEBMASTER

John Aveny 

DISTRIBUTION

CONTRIBUTORS

Stuart Tolchin 

Audrey Swanson

Mary Lou Caldwell

Kevin McGuire

Chris Leclerc

Bob Eklund

Howard Hays

Paul Carpenter

Kim Clymer-Kelley

Christopher Nyerges

Peter Dills 

Rich Johnson

Lori Ann Harris

Rev. James Snyder

Katie Hopkins

Deanne Davis

Despina Arouzman

Jeff Brown

Marc Garlett

Keely Toten

Dan Golden

Rebecca Wright

Hail Hamilton

Joan Schmidt

LaQuetta Shamblee


This morning I figured out why I haven’t cut my hair or 
shaved since March. It is a protest against the ineptitude 
and arrogance of my specie, or perhaps my gender—I’m 
not clear yet. My awareness started with a dream. I was on 
this camping trip (I never go camping) with my wife and 
dog, Milo. Somehow, Milo and I ended up hiking with this 
young couple and their sixteen year old son. The hills kept 
getting steeper and I couldn’t keep up with the couple but 
the young man hung back with me. He was very kind and 
walked slowly but I experienced this as his being solicitous 
and condescending much the way old people (not only 
me) feel they are treated by younger relatives. (Here let me 
help you, grandpa.) I asked the young man how tall he was 
and he said “five eight or something like that, but I know I 
will get taller as I get older.” 

 “No you won’t”, I told him. “You’re as tall as you’re gonna get. After this it’s all 
downhill” (which I was wishing about the hike.) All of a sudden Milo darted across this 
road which had cars on it and I tried to race after him but was slow. A car approached 
blocking my view of Milo –and Bam, the car kept going and there was Milo dead in the 
street. I was miserable, horrified at Milo’s death but thought immediately of myself. I 
would have to carry his body back to my wife who would be heartbroken. Eventually, 
she would make things worse reminding me that she had told me that I was too old to go 
on the hike. I tried to turn away from her and noticed I couldn’t move very easily. I was 
stuck under the covers and y realized that it all was a dream. Milo had been put down a 
year and a half ago but now awake. I still felt pretty bad. 

 Consistent with that feeling I turned on my recorded Democracy Now with 
Amy Goodman. The first thing I saw was Joe Biden coughing as he tried to make an 
acceptance speech. Why couldn’t someone have given him a throat lozenge? Why is 
he so old? Why are Democrats so stupid? Suddenly, it hit me. I understood 
the meaning of my personal protest. How could seemingly educated folk like me 
even pretend we know what we are doing? We believe in the wisdom of science, the 
importance of the ethical values on which this country is based, the worth of our 
Democratic process and believe that we are the high point of evolution. We are a joke, 
our whole male gender is raging out of causing continual violence and destroying the 
planet. Lock up all the males and the world can be saved. Somehow these feelings, 
although not then understood had, months ago, been expressed by my protest.

 After all, who are we kidding with our daily attempt to erase our animal 
connections from our face and stylish haircuts? Animals and indigenous peoples live 
in harmony with the planet. Perhaps all clean shaven Men should all be locked be 
restricted as an imminent threat to the immediate security of the world. LOCK THEM 
UP! Everyone agrees that the present problems of the world are anthrogenic, meaning 
caused by the activity of Man. That is the purpose of my protest. It is a statement of 
my willingness to accept guilt, a statement of humility, an acceptance of responsibility, 
and a demonstration of my awareness. As I accept this responsibility I realize that I am 
excluding from consideration non-Male members of the human species. It is “Women” 
who give birth to and nurture these monstrous male creatures. Women cannot escape 
blame. Perhaps there should be a requirement that they should bare their breasts as a 
way of accepting responsibility for what they have brought into the world. 

Maybe the platform should be presented by an appropriately dressed (or undressed) 
female who does not suffer from the flaws of Joe Biden. Is this the future of politics or 
will it be a good reality show? Perhaps in the future they will be indistinguishable from 
each other. 


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LEFT, RIGHT OR CENTER! 

DANNY TYREE

TOM PURCELL

CAN WE PLEASE HAVE THE 
RIGHT KIND OF CHRISTMAS 
SOUNDS?

COVID GRINCH CAN’T 
STEAL OUR CHRISTMAS


Sorry, COVID-19, but you’re not going to stop our Christmas 
cheer this year. You remind me of the Dr. Seuss Christmas 
classic, “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”

The Grinch, you see, is a miserable old grouch. He lives in 
a cave on a hill and hates the sound of Christmas festivities 
that take place in Whoville in the valley below.

His only source of joy, 
he initially thinks, is to 
rob the Whos of their 
Christmas presents, 
decorations and feast. 
His wants to make the 
Whos as miserable as 
he is.

And though he succeeds 
in taking all of 
the Whos’ material 
possessions, the one 
thing he can’t take is 
their Christmas joy.

He’s shocked on Christmas morning when the Whos gather, hold hands and sing a 
joyful carol – not the least bit worried about their material losses.

This year, the stores are empty – few people are out shopping. There’s no hustle or 
bustle that’s so common at this time of year.

But the people who are out appear to be friendlier and more cheerful than usual.

While driving the other night, I noticed something wonderful: It appears that many 
more houses are displaying Christmas decorations this year. Whole neighborhoods 
are lit up with the most beautiful arrangements of Christmas lights.

I’m noticing this all over the city, and it makes me smile. I smile because it’s a simple 
act of defiance in the face of the virus that keeps on causing us trouble.

I smile because COVID is causing us to focus on one of the greatest gifts of Christmas, 
which is charitableness.

According to Marketplace, charitable giving has been way up in 2020.

“A lot of the data on charitable giving comes out at the end of the year, but we know 
from early numbers that people are giving more than in previous years, in particular 
to food banks, to groups that focus on housing and to mutual aid groups, which are 
more grassroots efforts, neighbors helping neighbors,” reports Marketplace’s Marielle 
Segarra.

COVID may be impeding our traditions and gatherings this year, but it’s not bringing 
us down. Rather, it’s helping us care more for our neighbors and others who are 
in need and struggling as a result of the daggone bug.

Sure, COVID, you’ve caused a lot of disruption. But you’ve helped open our eyes at 
the same time.

You’ve helped us identify some among us who enjoy their government powers a 
little too much – who abuse those powers a little too much.

You’ve helped us identify hypocrites who shut down restaurants and forbid travel 
– but then are caught eating at fancy restaurants after traveling to exotic vacation 
spots.

You’ve helped us realize that some people in power have little regard for the people 
they’re supposed to serve, and choose not to allow those people to make their own 
commonsense decisions to, say, protect themselves from the virus while attending 
a church service.

I’ve got news for you, COVID: We’re going to prevail over you. In fact, we already 
have. Because the true outcome of your disruptiveness has been to bring out the 
best in most of us – to bring out our Christmas cheer in abundance.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some Christmas carols to sing.

Hello. I’m Grandpa.”

For Christmas 50 years ago, my parents splurged and 
bought me a compact reel-to-reel tape recorder. My father 
had whetted my appetite with remarks that one could build 
a primitive voice recorder along the lines of Thomas Edison’s 
prototype, but this was the real store-bought deal.

I took the prized possession along when my paternal grandparents 
hosted Christmas dinner for the very last time.

I THINK the device is still nestled in my mother’s attic; but even without it, I distinctly 
remember Grandaddy Carl neglecting his King Leo stick candy long enough to lean 
forward and humor me by uttering, “Hello. I’m Grandpa” for the benefit of posterity.

Certainly, favorite carols playing over the radio or the shopping mall PA system create 
priceless Christmas memories; but, like my grandfather’s announcement, there 
are so many other sounds that warm the cockles of our hearts and create cherished 
remembrances.

For instance, the laughter that accompanies good-natured ribbing when a new boyfriend 
or girlfriend meets the extended family for the first time.

Or the woofs, meows and neighs of new pets delivered to their forever home by Santa.

Don’t forget the joyous sound of well-wishers when a family member announces a 
pregnancy, or when a baby experiences its first Christmas.

We can relive our own childhoods when we overhear youngsters unleashing their 
imaginations or discovering “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells” for the first time.

Even a distressing sound such as spinning tires stuck in snow can be outweighed by 
the sound of a neighbor (or a total stranger) asking, “What can I do to help?” instead 
of “What’s in it for me?”

A well-worded, heartfelt prayer over a Christmas meal can fortify us just as much as 
the protein, vitamins and minerals.

Yes, Christmases seem to come faster and faster; but there is ample time for obstacles, 
disappointments and disasters between them. That’s why we should embrace all the 
pleasant audio memories we can get.

On the other hand, some Christmas sounds are toxic.

A respectful exchange of political viewpoints keeps office parties and family get-togethers 
lively, but overheated ultimatums have no place on the holiday celebrating the 
Prince of Peace.

Christmas is not the time for families to serve up heaping helpings of long-simmering 
complaints about favoritism, inheritances or ostentatious displays of wealth. As the 
Horatio R. Palmer hymn advises, “Angry words, oh, let them never/ From the tongue 
unbridled slip. / May the heart’s best impulse ever /Check them ere they soil the lip.”

Some people spend all year guaranteeing that the yuletide season will be miserable for 
themselves and others. Christmas should be a time for togetherness and sharing, not 
a time for finger-pointing or self-flagellation.

Life gives us enough hard knocks without our wallowing in self-inflicted wounds 
(whether from dimwitted investments, shortsighted health decisions or hormone-
driven shaky relationships). Good planning minimizes the need for abject apologies 
or violent defensiveness.

I have my “Hello. I’m Grandpa” memories to keep me warm – as well as the sound 
made by the “air blaster” toy I received all those decades ago and the ability to conjure 
up the jokes of long-gone aunts and uncles.

I’m sure you have your own favorite Christmas-connected sounds. I hope that this 
year you can accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative and make new connections 
that will last throughout the years.

Danny welcomes email responses at tyreetyrades@aol.com and visits to his Facebook 
fan page “Tyree’s Tyrades.” 


Mountain Views News

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Mountain Views News 80 W Sierra Madre Blvd. No. 327 Sierra Madre, Ca. 91024 Office: 626.355.2737 Fax: 626.609.3285 Email: editor@mtnviewsnews.com Website: www.mtnviewsnews.com