My first political memory was a song. You may remember the old Oscar Mayer jingle — it was sung to that.
 
“My baloney has a first name, it’s J-I-M-M-Y…”
 
It was the late 70s and one of the kids on the school bus must have heard it somewhere. We all had a laugh about it, but I couldn’t say at that age I was any kind of political animal. I remember the day Reagan was shot, I was more upset that it preempted a Bugs Bunny special. Hey, gimmie a break. I was nine.
 
That all started to change for me in the mid-80s. 
 
I was fascinated by the 1984 Democratic primaries. Walter Mondale, Gary Hart, Jesse Jackson, John Glenn, George McGovern, Alan Cranston. They had candidates coming out of the woodwork like I’d never seen before or since, at least until the last two election cycles.
 
Throughout the decade, the Republicans were steady as a rock. This was the Reagan era — 12 years —an entire generation coming of age who never knew anything but Republican leadership. Think Alex P. Keaton, the jacket-and-tie-wearing young conservative son played by Michael J. Fox on “Family Ties.” The character may have been played for laughs, but for Generation X, he embodied the spirit of many.
 
I must have been born a natural contrarian. I was drawn to playing the role of the loyal opposition. My friends and I would argue and debate, laugh and joke. For fun, we all read Hedrick Smith’s “The Power Game” and watched McLaughlin and “Firing Line.” My friends eyed “Nixon in ‘88” T-shirts (“He’s tan, rested and ready!”). I opted for a “Don’t blame me, I voted for Bill n’ Opus” shirt from Berkeley Breathed’s “Bloom County” comic. 
 
We’d get excuses from our parents so we could cut class to hear congressmen, senators, state reps and vice presidents speak. We saw Dan Quayle. Sen. John Heinz. Rep. Bob Walker. Even state officials. Yeah, we were pretty rowdy.
 
We started a branch of the Junior Statesmen of America at our school, so we could go debate other people (last I heard, it still exists! We have a legacy!) On a trip to New York, we stood on the roof of the World Trade Center and hiked for blocks in the freezing cold to get a peek inside the lobby of Trump Tower.
 
Closer to home, we created a scandal in our political science mock Senate when I sold out my party to get a few of my pet bills passed by supported the Republican’s bid to annex Japan. It may have driven a teacher into retirement.
 
We didn’t hate on each other or berate each other. It was a time when you assumed all politicians were playing a game, and likely not one played in your best interest. Comedians like Johnny Carson and Mark Russell could make light of it all without being snarky or insulting whole slices of the population. It was a time when politics was still a slightly-smarmy means to an end, worthy of objective analysis.
 
Today, politics is a “crusade.” A battle between good and evil. Right and wrong. “Socialism” and “fascism.” Assimilation to “right-minded thinking” is required or you face ostracism. We certainly can’t be friends. If you aren’t part of the cause, ulterior motives are assumed. One can’t even objectively compliment an opposing political strategy without its supporters thinking you are playing them in some fashion. Talk about sucking all the fun out of the thing.
 
Politics should never be taken that seriously. Setting the stakes that high will only lead to bitter disappointment. Thinking the other side’s politicians are crooks — that’s not a problem. It’s healthy. Thinking yours aren’t? That they are as committed to “the cause” as you are? That’s getting played. Politicians will tell you anything to protect their phony-baloney jobs.
 
I used to look forward to election days. They were like Christmas, full of excitement and surprises. Now, we have people arming themselves in the streets for “the coming civil war” — even embracing it. It’d be just my luck to get clipped in someone else’s revolution while trying to order a flippin’ quarter-pounder at the drive-thru.
 
Yes, we live in contentious times, but as I often point out in this space, it is hubris to believe they are the worst of times. Thinking you are single-handedly waging a war against some new Hitler or Mussolini, or, that these are the opening stanzas of the Book of Revelation? Nope. Sorry. Can’t get on board with that.
 
I realize for many, my cynicism to “the cause” — whichever yours may be — makes me an enemy. Part of the problem. Probably some sort of elitist. 
 
Believe me, it’s all a matter of perspective. You should try the view from where I’m sitting.

In the 2016 election, I believe many failed to pick up on something important, and I think that is still the case. 
 
The election wasn’t a just a referendum on eight years of Obama, but rather 16 to 25 years of interventionalist policy. Of “Forever Wars” and globalization. If you only look at it by party, you are missing half of the story.
 
In 14 days, it is possible that a man running for a so-called “return to normalcy” may be on his way to winning an election. Throwing aside for a moment the disputes that will inevitably arise from that, we need to understand something. 
 
Moving back to the “way things were” — pre-Trump — is not a long-term proposition.
 
Like it or not, the elements that led to the rise of Donald Trump are not going to go away. They will continue to manifest themselves in the next Republican candidate. The Republican party is forever changed. The days of a Jeb Bush or John Kasich presidency are gone. Even a Nikki Haley is a long shot. The future may come in a more-politically-palatable package, but it will be Trumpist. Never-Trumpers who feel their party has gone astray are going to either have to get on the bus or find another ride.
 
On the flip side, let’s not lose sight of the fact an avowed socialist looked well on the way to the Democratic nomination until the party solidified in self-defense behind Joe Biden. Biden is the last firewall between anything resembling “moderation” in the party and its march toward progressivism, if — if — he can hold the line. At age 78, it's quite likely that firewall is for four years.
 
Should Trump emerge victorious, however, all bets are off. Say goodbye to the moderate wing of the Democratic party, which will be chewed up faster than moderate Republicans were after the Revolution of ‘94. They’ll find themselves in the same boat as the Never-Trumpers.
 
Considering that one of the few remaining interests both parties share is self-preservation — the two-party system — those holding out hope for a third-party option best not set those hopes up too high. So long as the debate stage and ballot access are controlled by the duopoly, you’d get better odds at a casino.
 
I turned in my political prognostication card after 2016. I recognized at that point politics had fundamentally changed and the old standards needed to be reassessed. Honestly, I cannot predict what will happen in the weeks to come. What I do know is the political environment we have known for the last 20 years — perhaps even 30 — has undergone a seismic shift.
 
For those who oppose both Trumpism and Progressivism, looking to the past is wishful thinking. That train has left the station for both parties. Those seeking a third way are either going to have to figure out how to bust the duopoly or face political irrelevance.

When I was young, there was nothing quite like the excitement preceding the arrival of a big snowstorm.

It seemed the weather folks on “Action News” would spend days — an eternity — discussing a impending storm. Would it end up a mere dusting, or would the weather gods grant us the ingredients for a real whopper?

When a storm was finally due to arrive in the Delaware Valley, I’d wait up anxiously anticipating the first flakes before bedtime and nervously peer around the curtain the next morning in hope of seeing the world blanketed in white.

If I got my wish, I’d tune in to “The Voice of Chester County,” WCOJ. Would the dulcet tones of the legendary Art Douglas announce Twin Valley School District was closed for the day? Please, not one of those pointless one- or two-hour delays! Give us a snow day! 

Snow days meant bonus time with friends. Sledding, playing football in the snow, pelting each other with snowballs and building snow forts for protection. When all was said and done, we’d warm up inside with hot chocolate and great daytime television — reruns of Gilligan’s Island and Hogan’s Heroes. If I think back hard enough, I can remember how it felt in my bones, and believe me, it felt good. 

Sadly, just like those wonderful memories, the snow day is likely a thing of the past — chalk up another victim to COVID-19.

While many districts have had their hands full this fall and haven’t yet given much formal thought to the idea, it seems almost an inevitability. With the scale of technology and teaching techniques being applied to remote learning during the pandemic, why wouldn’t school districts take advantage of that experience in the future to avoid the impact Mother Nature has on the school year?

After all, how hard would it be for teachers to have a lesson plan in their back pocket to fall back on in case of inclement weather?

Obviously, not missing several days of school for weather events has its advantages on paper. Woncderful as that free day off might hve been, no gift went unpunished. Snow days came at the expense of spring break or were tacked on at the end of the year. Still, particularly during those cold, endless post-holiday weeks when it seemed we’d never get a break again, one of those impromptu days off was just what the doctor ordered. Tests, quizzes, and homework became tomorrow problems.

I can’t imagine teachers and staff didn’t feel a little of that same giddiness, even if it might create headaches down the road.

The idea of an end to snow days wasn’t something I really considered until perusing recent headlines on the subject, though I, myself, haven’t had a snow day in recent memory. Despite hurricanes, a derecho, and even a dumping of a couple of feet of snow a few years ago, I have been able to work remotely through the wonders of technology fornearly a decade, even in West Virginia, where the snow removal policy is basically, “It’ll melt.”

In fact, just this spring, while many adults used their COVID downtime to read, binge television series and teach themselves the piano, for this self-employed freelancer/contractor it was just another workday.

But that should be an adult problem. I know change is inevitable, but I feel sorry that tomorrow’s kids will miss out on the simple joy of the snowday. That seems unfair — yet another piece of youthful innocence lost. 

Just think, someday you can tell the youngin’s, “When I was your age, I didn’t walk 10 miles uphill in a snowstorm to get to school. I didn’t walk over to my computer, either. I played in the snow! And I liked it!”