When things are turned on their heads

                      When things are turned on their heads

               Published in Marietta (GA) Daily Journal, 4/11/20

            Yes, it’s grown children now saying to their parents, “Get back in that house!”  It’s graduating seniors in high schools and colleges who could well have already seen many friends for the last time. For others it’s the lost job and the endangered mortgage.  In degree, it’s all of us.

            Already, however, we are learning things about ourselves. Some of those things are bad, some good.  Not for a long time have Americans used the word “we” as much as we are using it now. “We the people” are now we the locked in and locked out, locked in our homes and locked out of our work places. But in it all we are being educated and somewhat united. Anyone who has lived life for, say, 20 years should understand how America works. In America you can chase your dream, but sometimes that dream is stymied and one has to wait, re-coup, and try again.

            Another positive is that we have seen once more the neighborliness of Americans, and not just from next door neighbors. Individuals, families, service clubs, and even corporations are all extending themselves to help meet the needs of others.

            We are also learning a great deal about learning. Just when, why, and by whose counsel did we begin lining students up in rows of desks with the teacher standing authoritatively before them? It wasn’t done that way in the beginning (Socrates held a disdain for it) and it’s not done that way now in homeschooling. When Jefferson in 1779 proposed a public “two track education for the laboring and the learned,” and when in the 1830s Horace Mann promoted “age grading,” surely neither visionary wished for a school with hundreds of children or youths together in one place. Today, though, we crowd them together in “comprehensive” schools and then wonder where our child’s bad influences come from.

            If we didn’t know already, we’re learning that high tech is also low touch. Parents are reporting that their children and teens are yearning to see their teachers, not just their friends. Technology, a blessing and a curse, cannot give love or encouragement as well as a human being can. Could our current isolation be pointing us toward consideration of, say, three days at school and two days at home with distinct assignments for the home days? With so many parents doing online work at home anyhow, schools don’t really have to be the babysitters they used to be. Are we about to experience “back to the future” and to understand there is nothing new under the sun, particularly when it comes to our emotional needs?

            The bad thing, maybe the worst, about our isolation is its political and sociological implications, particularly our docile acceptance of the government’s actions. Why aren’t governors seeking the wisdom of the electorate, the will of the people, before they declare their closures? Why are we relying on arguably overeducated experts and their significantly overstated “models” instead of on simple arithmetic, namely the comparison of cases, recoveries, and deaths to population? Why haven’t governors sought more counsel from state legislators who represent the people, particularly since freedom of assembly and freedom of worship are now being affected?

            Regarding arithmetic, as of this writing Georgia has 10,189 cases of coronavirus, 369 deaths, and 10 million people. The United States has 434,861 cases, 14,814 deaths, and 330 million people. Sorrow and gravity? Yes. A need for the panic pushed on us? No. Given China mischief on one side and Trump-hate on the other, it’s no longer conspiratorial, crazy, or premature to feel like something is fishy.

            There is simply too little concern for the economy. The economy is not an abstraction. It’s people working, buying and selling, providing jobs, and paying for mortgages and food. Yet, instead of hearing from the practitioner/producers of our economy, we are obeying professors and social scientists who tell us to close our stores. Social science is not a science and neither is political science. Both are studies of socio-political ideas and practices, not of hard facts. But if you have a doctor’s degree we’ll take your word for just about anything.

            Our economy – that means livelihood – is crumbling. If we’re all about saving lives, we had better save people’s livelihoods and homes. Let’s not let social scientists determine what gives us meaning or what risks we should or should not take. We’ve behaved mighty well. Let’s unlock our stores. Europe is already doing so.

Small Business needs a ventilator that costs nothing: an open front door. It’s needed while there’s still something to ventilate.

Roger Hines

4/9/2020   

           

           

                       

Truth on the Scaffold

                                Truth on the Scaffold

               Published in Marietta (GA) Daily Journal.4/5/20

            With the country virtually shut down, the question is no longer “Who you gonna call?” but “Who you gonna believe?”

             Is parking the economy wise or wrongheaded? Are small business owners staring into an abyss, or not?

            When questions like these pile high, it’s time to talk, pray, and get philosophical. Philosophical isn’t a highfalutin word. So dedicated are we to science, technology, engineering, and math that we have almost let philosophical questions drop. Here we are in a moment that appears to be turning into months. That moment begs for knowledge of practical economics as well as for attention to the philosophical. Literally philosophy means love of wisdom.

Two down-to-earth definitions mixed and scraped from this writer’s verbal blender might help us. The adjective philosophical means devoted to the study of reality. (Students and the man on the street don’t need that?) But there’s a better definition. Philosophical also means showing a calm and unflinching attitude toward disappointments or difficulties. Example: “Ben was philosophical about losing his small business to the coronavirus.”

This doesn’t mean Ben was in denial or dismissive of a reality. It means he acknowledged it and was stable – calm and unflinching – as he pondered his difficult situation.

There are many Ben’s in the nation today. Brenda’s too. Besides their economic loss, there’s another unknown truth issue. Do they have the virus symptoms or not? Is either of them sick without knowing it? If Ben is philosophical, let’s pray that Brenda is as well and that they’re both tenacious and strong if they have to go back to nothing.

Ben and Brenda also face our question, “Who you gonna believe?” They have to ask if the truth about their health prospects and livelihood is being told, if the truth is being stretched, or if it’s even known.

Here are some considerations they face. According to Dr. Deborah Birx this past week, there could be 100,000 to 240,000 deaths. To this model the Wall Street Journal responded, “April is going to be a brutal month for America … But as the bad news arrives, it’s important to understand that the worst-case scenarios that many in the media trumpet are far from a certain fate.”

Birx and the WSJ were speaking of the potential death toll, not the economic toll. The media is ignoring the economic toll, creating a lives-versus-the-economy argument. Not spoken of too much in national news is the virus’s effect on rural and small town America. Small banks across the country are woven into the local economy fabric, getting little attention. They must balance the help they give to local businesses with their own bottom line. If Ben and Brenda are rural or small town dwellers, their lives are probably less at stake, but their pantries and mortgages more at stake than those in metro areas.

 Speaker Nancy Pelosi will soon propose another stimulus bill. Columnist Cal Thomas, pleading fiscal sanity, fears Pelosi’s proposal will simply increase our “dark hole of debt,” and adds that Republicans and Democrats “are now joined at the pocketbook.”

So the truth and the best policy lie where? One truth is that America’s federal system doesn’t allow the president to dictate to state governments. President Trump is right to defer to governors. He should counsel them, however, to ease in the reopening of nonessential businesses and at least allow non-seniors to return to work. Addressing economic despair doesn’t diminish our concern for lives. Our frontier and wagon train forebears understood the balance and the risks.

Another truth is that people in charge of the government tend to think they have the answers simply because they have the power. Recently California Gov. Gavin Newsome, one of the many who believe abortion is an “essential service,” declared, “We have an opportunity for re-imagining a more progressive era.” Columnist George Will calls this “virus opportunism.” We had better watch what we are allowing government to do, including governors and mayors. Progressives love enlarged government. Freedom still matters and its future is absolutely in the mix.

We need more advice than just the medical experts or economic theorists. We need to hear from small business owners. How long can we continue with a shutdown economy? Caged people can get ugly.

Poet James Russell Lowell wrote, “Once to every man and nation / Comes the moment to decide / In the strife of truth and falsehood / For the good or evil side.” Truth, Lowell argued, is forever on the scaffold.

 Comebacks are America’s specialty, but to come back from a killer virus, applying a little oil to our economic engine is just as important as washing our hands. Sick is bad. Broke is too.

Roger Hines

4/1/20

           

Lessons from Poverty and Viruses

                                 Lessons from Poverty and Viruses

               Published in Marietta (GA) Daily Journal, 3/29/20

            Maybe I should call it near-poverty. I’m not sure how poverty was defined from 1944, the year I was born, to 1966, the year I left home. I only know that except for food, everything was always in short supply.

            My father did his best, and he was at his best in the fields producing food. He was a man of the soil, a student and a master of the soil. His gardens and fields were kept clean which means neither a sprig of grass nor the most obnoxious weed had half a chance of survival.

            Having plenty of good food must have kept my mind off the fact that nothing else was plentiful, not even clothes and school supplies. There were only three distinct times when my mind dwelt on this fact. The first time was when I was in the 5^th grade. I was 10 and was watching my mother shake pennies from the world’s largest glass piggy bank. She was counting out the week’s school lunch money for the youngest 4 of her 17 kids. The other 13 were either grown or making their own money. Watching her struggle to get the pennies out made me feel sorry for her.

            On Mondays at school when my name was called, I handed my little brown bag of a hundred pennies to Mrs. Scott. She had to count them out. I knew she sensed my embarrassment. Most of the other children brought dimes, quarters, or a dollar bill. Mrs. Scott would comment on how bright the pennies were as she playfully counted and stacked. After a few Mondays neither my mother’s plight nor Mrs. Scott’s counting of pennies bothered me.

            The second time I gave any thought to or dwelt on our material need was in 10^th grade world history. When Mrs. Richardson assigned the chapter on the ancient Romans I got excited because soon after World War II one of my much older brothers married an Italian woman. Antonia became a beloved source of information and stories about Italy. It stunned me to learn from both Antonia and Mrs. Richardson that ancient Rome had running water and indoor bathrooms. My first thought was: And we don’t?  

            The last time I found myself pondering our lack I was 22. My mother had passed away and our family consisted of myself, a younger brother, and our father. I had graduated from college and the day had come to leave home for my first teaching job. My final chore was to help my father haul water. We not only didn’t have running water. We didn’t have water. For years we had hauled water from a neighbor, the chairman of the county’s Board of Supervisors (commissioners) who was a giver and always helped us fill the glass gallon jugs and the disinfected lard cans. While filling the jugs, I thought of 10^th grade world history again. The ancient Romans, though only the elites, had running water yet here in 1966 … we don’t?

            Said the poor Quaker to his new neighbor, “Tell me what thou need’st and I shall tell thee what thou can do without.”

            I’m not glad my family had to do without, yet somehow I’m thankful I know deprivation. Deprivation didn’t kill the spirit of my dear parents or any of my joy-filled, laughter-prone brothers and sisters.

            R.C., the oldest, would farm like our father but unlike him, would become a landowner. Paul and Pete would serve nobly in the worst of World War II and become career soldiers. Ida, Jewell, Authula, and Margurette were homemakers and models of strength, character, and beauty. Minnie became a registered nurse. Walter, Jr. would become a business man and later a pastor; Durward, a mail carrier. Almedia, Ruby, and Janelle were secretaries of the first rank. Carolyn, a homemaker, would travel the world with her U.S. Marine husband. Tressie became a registered nurse. Carlton, “the baby,” would go into banking and insurance. I would spend 52 years telling 17 to 19 year-olds to say “centers on,” and not “centers around.”

            Today a virus has made many Americans nervous about imminent hardship. I pray and wish for all of them a good roof, plenty of food and water (preferably running), and enough money to pay for water, fuel, electricity, transportation, and their rent or mortgage. I also hope that someone has bequeathed to them just half the joy of life that my parents, brothers, and sisters bequeathed to me.

            Hardship is not the end of the world. It can be a fertile field for the mind, a sanctuary for the spirit, and a season of strengthening.

Roger Hines

3/25/20 

Dealing with our Present Unpleasantness

                               Dealing with our Present Unpleasantness

               Published in Marietta GA) Daily Journal, 3/22/20

  

            In 1948 author C.S. Lewis responded to the greatest fear the world was facing, a fear far more destructive than a virus. It was the new atomic bomb.  Unleashed on Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the United States just three years earlier, the atomic bomb was the talk of the world.  It ended World War II, but kick-started the Cold War and ushered in a new era of fear. No wonder poet W.H.Auden dubbed the 20^th century the Age of Anxiety.

            Lewis wrote, “We think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb.  How are we to live in an atomic age? I am tempted to reply: why, as you would in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed as you are living now in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, an age of air raids, an age of railway accidents, an age of motor accidents.”

            Lewis continued, “In other words let us not exaggerate the novelty of our situation.  We and all whom we love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb was invented. It is perfectly ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing long faces because the scientists have added one more chance of painful and premature death to a world which already bristled with such chances and in which death itself was not a chance at all, but a certainty.”

            I suspect we get Lewis’ point and can understand its application to us today. He was not minimizing the seriousness of a crisis. He was saying we shouldn’t be ruled by fear.  For worriers, Lewis’ words might not provide much comfort, but a little context might help.  America is now experiencing a pause. A nation born out of a frontier spirit doesn’t like pauses.  Unlike most of the world we have experienced only four major ones: a civil war, two world wars, and a tremendous economic depression. Sept. 11, 2001 and the 2007-‘08 recession didn’t stop us in our tracks as these four did or as the coronavirus is doing now.

            In contrast to these four and now our fifth major pause, the Middle East, Asia, South America, and Europe are quite accustomed to pauses. Military coups, natural disasters, and political unrest have been a constant in the rest of the world but have not plagued America. Only recently have we had the problem of the losing party refusing to accept the results of an election. In many other countries this is common.

Bordered by two vast oceans and protected by the world’s most powerful military machine, Americans are riled by anything that slows us down. The world is our oyster.  Or so we have believed and behaved. But here we are now, not at a pause but a near stoppage. How should we then live?  Actions speak louder than words, but reactions speak louder than actions. We will soon see whether the hoarders will outnumber the givers and whether our goal is survival and self-absorption or serving our fellow citizens.

            There are positive effects that can and should emanate from our social distancing.  One is home schooling.  Not what the public schools send home for students to do, but what parents require of children and teens shutdown at home. Reading is important but not as important as learning about cooking, cleaning, tolerating, and sharing.  If we’re expecting a few months of pause, we had better work on family unity and homemaking skills. Yes, homemaking. That forgotten and now forbidden “sexist” word buried by our schools in “life skills.”

            To call once more on C.S. Lewis: “The homemaker has the ultimate career.  All other careers exist for one purpose only and that is to support the ultimate career.”

Lewis is right. We work to bring money home. We marry and build a home (not a house just yet). We bring groceries home. We pursue a career for personal satisfaction but we still eventually head home. We pity the home-less.

            Truth is lots of family members are going to drive each other crazy. But if we learn to do without, or learn that America, too, is susceptible to the troubles that other nations have faced, we will be a stronger nation, realizing how blessed we are and how spoiled we have been.

The strongest antidote for fear is faith in God and a strong, loving home. Failure to come home and honor home and family will do to America what no bomb or no virus can ever do.  We are about to see just how strong our nation actually is.

Roger Hines

3/19/20 

Learning from Hamlet and Mark Twain

                     Learning from Hamlet and Mark Twain

               Published in Marietta (GA) Daily Journal, 3/15/20

            With so much of our attention on science and technology these days, it’s wise to remember that there are also such things as human emotions. Social progress generally and our public discourse specifically doesn’t suffer as much today from lack of knowledge as from lack of emotional control.  Emotions are as real as the soil we walk on. Love, hate, joy, and sadness are everywhere. The question is which emotions will we embrace and which ones will we reject.

            Algebra, geometry, biology, astronomy, sociology, computer science, agri-business, simple arithmetic and all other such “sciences” do not and cannot help us understand or control our emotions or human relations, nor are they meant to. Psychology presumes to but is usually found lacking.  An honorable field, psychology is horrendously term-laden and also too ridden with psycho-quackery.

            History could help except for the fact that in education, history actually means political history, with emphasis solely on dates, wars, power struggles, and elections.  Why not also intellectual history, meaning the study of ideas and of the individuals who first submitted and argued for them: the ideas of Newton, Marx, Jefferson, Darwin, Einstein, Charlie Brown (seriously) and so many others who have stirred our minds.  Ideas provoke thinking and debate.  Memorization of dates does not.  Genuine debate teaches civility, a commodity most lacking.

            There is one often disdained field of study that can teach us about our emotions, and that is literature.  Doubtless, literature has often been mis-taught. Novels much too long have been assigned.  Poems so esoteric they would cure anyone’s insomnia have been discussed too early and too long. Stories that have the capacity to change hearts and challenge minds have been killed by the teacher’s search for symbolism.  Biographies that could inspire have been crippled by professors who politicize them, imposing their own biases on the subject rather than letting students glean for themselves.  Teachers and professors of literature haven’t always measured well the amounts of reading they dispense.

            Even so, literature is like a keg of penicillin standing in the midst of an epidemic and few people over the centuries have chosen to even test the medicine.  While the sciences address the mind, literature addresses the mind and the heart.  Today humanity’s heart is in need of addressing.  We’re not living together well. We’re “connected” for sure, but we know what that means, cell phones and screens.

            But the human heart languishes.  Math and science can give us medicine and wealth, but not the joy of human interaction.  Human interaction thrives only when we see each other eyeball to eyeball, touch to touch.  Literature – good stories, time-honored poems – fosters such interaction. 

            Literature, that is the reading thereof, can help clarify one’s thinking and words. In Shakespeare’s “Hamlet,” Hamlet’s mother chides him for not casting off his moodiness. “Why seems it so particular with thee?” she asks.  “Seems, madam?  I know not seems. ‘Tis!”

            As Hamlet was implying, there are beliefs and there are certainties.  One certainty is that we are all closer neighbors than ever before.  We need and appreciate the sciences. They serve us well except when politicized and used as a bludgeon. If “global warming” was an unquestioned reality (‘Tis), why is the term now abandoned for the broader/milder, “climate change” (Seems)? Living closer together on the planet than ever, clear and honest un-politicized language is needed.  Literary studies, not the sciences, help meet that need.  Mark Twain addressed this need when he said, “Use the right word and not its second cousin.”

            One of literature’s most valuable offerings is “A soft answer turns away wrath.”  Vice-President Pence has illustrated this certainty each time he and his coronavirus team have held press conferences. Pence’s employ of soft (but substantive) answer recalls the comment of P.T. Barnum – yes, that Barnum: “Literature is one of the most interesting and significant expressions of humanity.”

            Since history and literature are so intertwined, literature can afford us both a leap into the past and a vision for the future.  Most writers, even fiction writers, are lovers of history if not amateur historians. They see history as the skeletal bones on which the flesh of literature is laid.  They understand that text without context is pretext.

            More practically, literature can enrich our imagination and hence our imagining.  Remember, Colonel Sanders was 62 when he imagined a little chicken restaurant franchise business.

            So if a virus or anything else keeps us inside, it’s a good time to read some good literature, after finishing the morning paper of course.

Roger Hines

3/11/20 

           

           

             

           

Kemp and Collins: a Personal Back Story

                   Kemp and Collins: a Personal Back Story

               Published in Marietta (GA) Daily Journal, 3/8/20

            Governor Brian Kemp probably doesn’t remember or really know me. But I know him.  Although serving simultaneously in the General Assembly, we never met until 2010 when he    was running for Secretary of State and I was running for state School Superintendent.  Our path crossings were quite frequent but our conversations were always brief.

            After giving campaign talks at a DeKalb County GOP candidate forum, we both fared very poorly in the straw vote taken at the end of the forum.  Like whipped puppies, we walked together to our cars, mumbled encouraging words to each other, and threw a few yard signs back into the trunks of our cars.  There would be other forums and straw votes.  There would be another chance.  Despite this particularly discouraging evening, Kemp went on to achieve his political goal.  I did not achieve mine.

            I admired then state Senator Kemp.  I admire Governor Kemp now.  He’s authentic, not at all a showman, and seems not to have an ounce of self-importance.  His degree in agriculture (Georgia’s chief industry), his state senate experience, and his two terms as secretary of state have undoubtedly informed and conditioned him for the governorship of the state. 

            U.S. Representative Doug Collins probably doesn’t remember or really know me either.  But I know him.  Quite well, in fact.  Having had no more than half a dozen quick conversations with him, I’ve watched him literally and intentionally for 15 or so minutes at a time.  Steady-footed like Kemp, though more affable, Collins also exudes no self-importance. If only more politicians were like these two men.

            When Collins came to the GA House I was no longer in office but was working for the Speaker as the House Messenger.  My chief responsibility was to stand elbow to elbow with the Speaker when the House was in session and assist him with the hurry and scurry that seems to be  characteristic of all lawmaking bodies (ordering bills, sticking to the agenda, corralling House members, pacifying House members, etc.).

            From the Speaker’s podium one can look down and see every movement that every member makes.  Having observed Collins from that standpoint, I can testify that he moved and talked as fast then as he does now.  A fellow Republican once “accused” him of being “from Connecticut or someplace like that.”  Collins spent as much time chatting it up with Democrats as he did Republicans.  A minister and former pastor with a seminary degree, a lawyer, and a chaplain and lieutenant colonel in the Air Force Reserve, Collins is if anything, versatile.

            The potential serious rift between these two good men, Kemp and Collins, is unfortunate.  A governor’s appointees are no business of the nation’s president.  Governor Kemp had every right to appoint Kelly Loeffler to the seat vacated by Johnny Isakson, but it’s fitting to point out that if President Trump had not so strongly endorsed Kemp late in his gubernatorial campaign, Kemp might not now be governor.

            Sadly, the Loeffler team is attacking Collins viciously.  Loeffler’s anti-Collins ads are outrageous.  Her campaign didn’t become negative and dirty.  It started out negative and dirty.   The shame of it all is that the Loeffler campaign is apparently hoping many Georgia voters are either uninformed or gullible enough to swallow the vicious treatment the Club for Growth has given Collins.  Doubtless, they’re trying to make Georgia Republicans forget about Collins’ incredibly effective defense of President Trump during the House Judiciary Committee’s impeachment proceedings.

            Establishment Republicans can’t blame Collins if a split ticket leads to a Democratic victory.  After all, Kemp has done what Democrats seldom if ever do and what Republicans always do: fall victim to paralysis of analysis after losing or nearly losing an election and then change course and go moderate. Fearful of the suburban and female vote and recalling that conservative Cobb County voted for Hillary, Kemp picked a wealthy, totally inexperienced female.  Was it moo-la over orthodoxy?

            Loeffler’s mail-out ads are almost as big as a TV screen.  I received one through the mail that was 12 X 15 inches.  In a smaller ad she is pictured beside President Trump with text that implies he has endorsed her.  He has not.  Pictures of her teen years, clad in jeans and doing farm work, look a little fakey.

            Loeffler is talking the talk for sure, but how should Kemp’s base view her recent hobnobbing with progressives, even Stacy Abrams, and her past support of them?  Despite his good qualities, by choosing Loeffler for the Senate seat Kemp was not dancing with who brung’im. 

            When will Republicans learn?      

Roger Hines

3/4/20

Kemp and Collins: a Personal Back Story Governor Brian Kemp probably doesn’t remember or really know me. But I know him. Although serving simultaneously in the General Assembly, we never met until 2010 when he was running for Secretary of State and I was running for state School Superintendent. Our path crossings were quite frequent but our conversations were always brief. After giving campaign talks at a DeKalb County GOP candidate forum, we both fared very poorly in the straw vote taken at the end of the forum. Like whipped puppies, we walked together to our cars, mumbled encouraging words to each other, and threw a few yard signs back into the trunks of our cars. There would be other forums and straw votes. There would be another chance. Despite this particularly discouraging evening, Kemp went on to achieve his political goal. I did not achieve mine. I admired then state Senator Kemp. I admire Governor Kemp now. He’s authentic, not at all a showman, and seems not to have an ounce of self-importance. His degree in agriculture (Georgia’s chief industry), his state senate experience, and his two terms as secretary of state have undoubtedly informed and conditioned him for the governorship of the state. U.S. Representative Doug Collins probably doesn’t remember or really know me either. But I know him. Quite well, in fact. Having had no more than half a dozen quick conversations with him, I’ve watched him literally and intentionally for 15 or so minutes at a time. Steady-footed like Kemp, though more affable, Collins also exudes no self-importance. If only more politicians were like these two men. When Collins came to the GA House I was no longer in office but was working for the Speaker as the House Messenger. My chief responsibility was to stand elbow to elbow with the Speaker when the House was in session and assist him with the hurry and scurry that seems to be characteristic of all lawmaking bodies (ordering bills, sticking to the agenda, corralling House members, pacifying House members, etc.). From the Speaker’s podium one can look down and see every movement that every member makes. Having observed Collins from that standpoint, I can testify that he moved and talked as fast then as he does now. A fellow Republican once “accused” him of being “from Connecticut or someplace like that.” Collins spent as much time chatting it up with Democrats as he did Republicans. A minister and former pastor with a seminary degree, a lawyer, and a chaplain and lieutenant colonel in the Air Force Reserve, Collins is if anything, versatile. The potential serious rift between these two good men, Kemp and Collins, is unfortunate. A governor’s appointees are no business of the nation’s president. Governor Kemp had every right to appoint Kelly Loeffler to the seat vacated by Johnny Isakson, but it’s fitting to point out that if President Trump had not so strongly endorsed Kemp late in his gubernatorial campaign, Kemp might not now be governor. Sadly, the Loeffler team is attacking Collins viciously. Loeffler’s anti-Collins ads are outrageous. Her campaign didn’t become negative and dirty. It started out negative and dirty. The shame of it all is that the Loeffler campaign is apparently hoping many Georgia voters are either uninformed or gullible enough to swallow the vicious treatment the Club for Growth has given Collins. Doubtless, they’re trying to make Georgia Republicans forget about Collins’ incredibly effective defense of President Trump during the House Judiciary Committee’s impeachment proceedings. Establishment Republicans can’t blame Collins if a split ticket leads to a Democratic victory. After all, Kemp has done what Democrats seldom if ever do and what Republicans always do: fall victim to paralysis of analysis after losing or nearly losing an election and then change course and go moderate. Fearful of the suburban and female vote and recalling that conservative Cobb County voted for Hillary, Kemp picked a wealthy, totally inexperienced female. Was it moo-la over orthodoxy? Loeffler’s mail-out ads are almost as big as a TV screen. I received one through the mail that was 12 X 15 inches. In a smaller ad she is pictured beside President Trump with text that implies he has endorsed her. He has not. Pictures of her teen years, clad in jeans and doing farm work, look a little fakey. Loeffler is talking the talk for sure, but how should Kemp’s base view her recent hobnobbing with progressives, even Stacy Abrams, and her past support of them? Despite his good qualities, by choosing Loeffler for the Senate seat Kemp was not dancing with who brung’im. When will Republicans learn? Roger Hines 3/4/20

                   Kemp and Collins: a Personal Back Story

               Published in Marietta (GA) Daily Journal, 3/8/20

            Governor Brian Kemp probably doesn’t remember or really know me. But I know him.  Although serving simultaneously in the General Assembly, we never met until 2010 when he    was running for Secretary of State and I was running for state School Superintendent.  Our path crossings were quite frequent but our conversations were always brief.

            After giving campaign talks at a DeKalb County GOP candidate forum, we both fared very poorly in the straw vote taken at the end of the forum.  Like whipped puppies, we walked together to our cars, mumbled encouraging words to each other, and threw a few yard signs back into the trunks of our cars.  There would be other forums and straw votes.  There would be another chance.  Despite this particularly discouraging evening, Kemp went on to achieve his political goal.  I did not achieve mine.

            I admired then state Senator Kemp.  I admire Governor Kemp now.  He’s authentic, not at all a showman, and seems not to have an ounce of self-importance.  His degree in agriculture (Georgia’s chief industry), his state senate experience, and his two terms as secretary of state have undoubtedly informed and conditioned him for the governorship of the state. 

            U.S. Representative Doug Collins probably doesn’t remember or really know me either.  But I know him.  Quite well, in fact.  Having had no more than half a dozen quick conversations with him, I’ve watched him literally and intentionally for 15 or so minutes at a time.  Steady-footed like Kemp, though more affable, Collins also exudes no self-importance. If only more politicians were like these two men.

            When Collins came to the GA House I was no longer in office but was working for the Speaker as the House Messenger.  My chief responsibility was to stand elbow to elbow with the Speaker when the House was in session and assist him with the hurry and scurry that seems to be  characteristic of all lawmaking bodies (ordering bills, sticking to the agenda, corralling House members, pacifying House members, etc.).

            From the Speaker’s podium one can look down and see every movement that every member makes.  Having observed Collins from that standpoint, I can testify that he moved and talked as fast then as he does now.  A fellow Republican once “accused” him of being “from Connecticut or someplace like that.”  Collins spent as much time chatting it up with Democrats as he did Republicans.  A minister and former pastor with a seminary degree, a lawyer, and a chaplain and lieutenant colonel in the Air Force Reserve, Collins is if anything, versatile.

            The potential serious rift between these two good men, Kemp and Collins, is unfortunate.  A governor’s appointees are no business of the nation’s president.  Governor Kemp had every right to appoint Kelly Loeffler to the seat vacated by Johnny Isakson, but it’s fitting to point out that if President Trump had not so strongly endorsed Kemp late in his gubernatorial campaign, Kemp might not now be governor.

            Sadly, the Loeffler team is attacking Collins viciously.  Loeffler’s anti-Collins ads are outrageous.  Her campaign didn’t become negative and dirty.  It started out negative and dirty.   The shame of it all is that the Loeffler campaign is apparently hoping many Georgia voters are either uninformed or gullible enough to swallow the vicious treatment the Club for Growth has given Collins.  Doubtless, they’re trying to make Georgia Republicans forget about Collins’ incredibly effective defense of President Trump during the House Judiciary Committee’s impeachment proceedings.

            Establishment Republicans can’t blame Collins if a split ticket leads to a Democratic victory.  After all, Kemp has done what Democrats seldom if ever do and what Republicans always do: fall victim to paralysis of analysis after losing or nearly losing an election and then change course and go moderate. Fearful of the suburban and female vote and recalling that conservative Cobb County voted for Hillary, Kemp picked a wealthy, totally inexperienced female.  Was it moo-la over orthodoxy?

            Loeffler’s mail-out ads are almost as big as a TV screen.  I received one through the mail that was 12 X 15 inches.  In a smaller ad she is pictured beside President Trump with text that implies he has endorsed her.  He has not.  Pictures of her teen years, clad in jeans and doing farm work, look a little fakey.

            Loeffler is talking the talk for sure, but how should Kemp’s base view her recent hobnobbing with progressives, even Stacy Abrams, and her past support of them?  Despite his good qualities, by choosing Loeffler for the Senate seat Kemp was not dancing with who brung’im. 

            When will Republicans learn?      

Roger Hines

3/4/20