What to Make of George?

Now that W is almost toast, I find myself wondering what to make of him, how to capture what he has meant for me and this country as I see it. Consider this a work in progress as the dark days of his reign wind down.

He has so many faces, from the playful frat house smart ass to the devout, born again crusader against a woman's right to choose, the teaching of evolution, and gay marriage; from the resolute commander in chief in military drag (ironic since, as a young man, he avoided serving in the military) to the buffoon deliberately garbling words and sentences. Which of these will loom largest in my memory of him?

And although he's gotta be one of the worst presidents in history, still, in the past couple of weeks he has actually made some good efforts as George Packer notes:

He strengthened sanctions on Sudanese companies and officials in response to the ongoing massacres in Darfur. He called on Congress to double the funding for global AIDS programs, to thirty billion dollars. He directed his envoy in Baghdad, Ambassador Ryan Crocker, to sit down with his Iranian counterpart and discuss ways of stabilizing Iraq—the most high-profile meeting between top officials of the two countries in years. And he attacked the demagoguery of right-wing critics of the bipartisan immigration bill.

Still, as Packer continues: "Bush's legacy will be the war in Iraq and, secondarily, the array of decisions on prisoners, alliances, treaties, and preventive war which revolutionized American foreign policy after September 11th."

I know that, like myself, George is complex, a mixture of the savage and the noble, of ignorance and brilliance, good and evil. And it is wrong to overlook that complexity, seeing him in black and white terms, reducing him to either good or evil. And it's possible that in the months ahead I will see him for the human congeries that he is.

But as of this moment, I see him as a man culpably ignorant and blinded by arrogance, an insecure man who brooks no dissent, whose shock and awe tactics have unleashed great suffering on hundreds of thousands, and whose legacy we Americans will be trying for generations to overcome.

Note: Just a day or so after I wrote the above words, W, true to form, subverted the legal process and commuted Scooter Libby's sentence. Looks like my last paragraph stands. Is there no end to this guy's arrogance?

Armistead Maupin's Michael Tolliver Lives

He's a gay man in his mid-fifties, slightly arthritic, and 20 pounds overweight. He takes Viagra and testosterone shots, is HIV-positive, and for many years assumed he would be dead by now. But Michael Tolliver is very much alive and in a solid relationship with a man 21 years his junior.

He's got more going for him than simply rearranging the vases on the mantle. He's not following the script that consigns fifty-something gay men to the shelf.

Good for him--and for Maupin for telling this partly autobiographical story that replaces the deadening cultural script presently available to middle-aged gay men with one full of life and love. And thank Maupin for illumining other corners of gay life, including the lives of transgendered people and the occasional surprises within the lives of seemingly homophobic parents and relatives.

Maupin has crafted his story with insight, humor, and compassion. He's just the kind of guy you'd enjoy having over for dinner. Chances are he would feel very comfortable with you, too, perhaps especially if you don't fit the enervating scripts of our cultures, whether gay or straight, whether because of circumstance or choice.

Changing Jobs

This past Friday I ended ten years in Silicon Valley to make way for a new job in San Francisco. Before I move on, I want to savor just a few of the kind words with which my co-workers and bosses sent me off.

From a writer who has reported to me:

I've been a technical writer for almost 20 years (pass the Geritol, please), and you are by far one of the best managers I've ever had. Better than that, you are genuinely a kind and good person, something the world needs more and more.

From a boss:

You were always there to solve any issue and took every challenge. You always remained calm even under the most stressful circumstances. You were always there to help everyone. We are really going to miss you. Richard, please keep in touch.

From another writer who has reported to me:

It was nice to have a manager who trusts you, cares for you, supports you, and backs you in difficult times. Your approach to work and management was inspirational. You would keep a tab on most things and make it easy for me. Also, I loved the fact that you trusted me with responsibilities.

From another boss:

When I'm on my deathbed, you will be one of the people I will be so grateful to have known.

I'm not sure what to do with such lovely words. Maybe the effect we have on each other becomes apparent only when we look back. Maybe in all the ups and downs--the stressful moments before a product release, the unreasonable demands of dysfunctional VPs, the doubling of workloads with no added resources to help carry them--we strengthen, inspire, affirm each other in ways we are unaware of at the time.

Whatever. I will save these words for a rainy day, and, in the meantime give thanks for colleagues who say such kind things. I hope their words are at least a little bit right.

And to each of them I say with all my heart:

Thank you.
Farewell.
Namaste.