I awoke Wednesday morning to a disaster: we were out of ground coffee!! #PANIC
Thrust into action by crisis, I had to find our strategic reserve of coffee beans (in the pantry), then locate the relevant pieces of the Vitamix for dry-blending, and then figure out how the hell to do… well… this:
Success! Coffee!
The big news of the day was — for the first time in weeks(?) — not directly pandemic-related. Instead it was about electoral politics: Bernie Sanders was (finally) dropping out, making Joe Biden the presumptive nominee (and suggesting perhaps I should take the Warren sticker off my car 😂).
Most importantly, the Bernie news birthed this video into the world:
Political news aside, it was a mostly uneventful day for me personally — aside from the ongoing saga of my new laser printer, which I’d had to move to the basement tech closet because it was causing a subtle noxious odor in my poorly ventilated basement office. That led to all sorts of drama around getting wireless printing to work, since this bargain-basement laser printer doesn’t come with its own built-in wireless. But I finally got it working (thanks to an old Mac Mini and some help from my office’s I.T. folks) Wednesday afternoon:
Around 2:15 PM, it was time to say goodbye to Becky/Mommy, off to the hospital for her fourth 3p-3a E.R. shift in five days:
BTW, if anyone is wondering, Becky immediately throws her scrubs in the washing machine when she gets home from a shift (in the wee hours of the morning) to prevent COVID contamination, so the above-pictured hug is safe as well as adorable. 🙂
In the evening, I took the dog for a walk, and took some photos:
On the topic of thanking health-care workers: we also did the 8:00 PM howl for first time Wednesday. Listening from our front porch, it was pretty intense and fun! But I got better video (and audio) of it the next day, so I’ll save that for Thursday’s post.
What else? Oh yeah, the girls finally roped me in to watching their favorite anime, My Hero Academia, with them on Wednesday:
(Well, first day of official, district-run online school, anyway. The younger girls’ teachers independently tried out some informal online-school stuff during the first two weeks of “break,” while the school district was figuring out what its overall plan would be.)
In other news… Kittens!
Less adorably: my new laser printer!
In the evening, another essential errand, because I forgot to buy kitty litter yesterday. 😐
First stop: Target.
One of the two entrances was blocked off (quite thoroughly!), so customers could only enter through the other set of doors.
And at the other entrance, there was a whole setup for waiting in line to get in, when the store is too full under social distinancing guidelines.
There was no line Tuesday evening, though. I just stopped briefly to take that picture. 🙂
Inside the store, there were notable shortages:
And, in the checkout line, more social distancing:
Unfortunately, Target was all out of non-clumping kitty litter (which our very young foster kittens need), despite the Target app’s assurances that they had some in stock. So I checked out my other purchases (including pudding and some Easter stuff) and left for my second stop.
Well, actually, something else happened first. While I was sitting in my car, in the Target parking lot, I got a sad breaking news alert:
Here’s that video:
R.I.P., John Prine. 🙁
Anyway… back to Tuesday, and my errand run. I drove to Petsmart, but it was closed, as was almost everywhere else (it was only ~8:10, but most retail stores that haven’t been forced to shut down are closing early). So, with my kitty-litter options rapidly dwindling, I had no choice but to brave Walmart, which my phone said was closing at 8:30.
For a few moments, I thought Walmart was closed earlier than its app said (as Petsmart had been), and — huge nerd that I am — I literally thought to myself: “Walmart. The one place on Earth we don’t want to see any closer, and the one place we’re trying to get to. It’s just where we can’t get.”
😀
Thankfully, it wasn’t closed. Customers were still being allowed in through the far entrance.
I was in a hurry, so I didn’t take any pictures inside the store. But I noticed that a decent percentage of Walmart customers were wearing masks — moreso than at Target or Petsmart, I would say.
The most jarring thing, though, was the repeating loudspeaker announcement in the Walmart parking lot, accompanied by a flashing blue police light. The whole scene had an eerie, post-apocalyptic feel.
I embedded my video at the top of this post, but here it is again:
First of all, a housekeeping note. I’ve decided to proceed on two tracks with this blog series: I’ll do some contemporaneous “Pandemic Lockdown” posts about a current or recent day (like this one, re: two days ago), and other posts that are more retrospective, looking back on an earlier day or days (like the preceding post about March 13-15). If all goes well, eventually the twain shall meet, and I’ll have a post for each day (or block of days), albeit published in a jumbled and out-of-order fashion.
The reason I’ve decided to do it this way is simply that, otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll never finish. With each passing day, the novelty of prior days’ sets of photos, videos & memories gradually wears off, and so my motivation to publish them declines (#ADHDproblems). Eventually, if I’m not careful, this fun blog project will start feeling more & more like homework. So, instead of forcing myself to fully “catch up” before I can post anything new, I’ll post things in the order that the spirit strikes me — and then later on, eventually, I can figure out a way to get everything in a more sensible order. Maybe. 🙂
Anyway… on with Day 25!
Monday, April 6
Before starting work on Monday — kicking off Week 4 in my basement office — I took the dog for a morning walk. It was really nice out. The flowers are in bloom!
Speaking of which, I got to play some Pokémon GO on my walk, which was nice. I haven’t had much of a chance to play recently. Among other things, I caught an Eevee and a Minccino, and I put a Gengar (caught in a weekend raid) and my shiny purple Lapras (nickname: Beyoncé) in gyms.
More here. BTW, I love the new “TODAY” screen, with its quick look at ‘mons currently in gyms!
Anyway… when I got back to the house, I started my work day. Nothing too exciting to say about that, nor any fun photos, although I dare say it was one of my more productive work days in quite a while.
Also on Monday afternoon, Becky — who was home Monday after working 12-hour swing shifts (3p-3a) both Saturday & Sunday — brought herdeliciously aromatic brownies down to my office, so I could smell them.
Mmmmmmbrownies. 🙂 See, working from home has some advantages!
Oh, and another advantage is late-afternoon back-yard breaks:
Before long, it was dinner time. And then dessert time. The brownies tasted as good as they smelled. 🙂
If you notice the colorful chart at bottom right of the dining room table photo, that was an exciting update on Colorado’s hospitalizations for COVID-19, which I charted just before dinner and brought to Becky & the girls as a bit of good news. As I explained on Twitter:
This is NOT over. Indeed, what comes next is extremely daunting: I have no idea how we can re-open the state without re-accelerating the curve, given that we're light-years away from anything close to adequate testing.
But for right now, I'm thrilled. We won the first battle.
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) April 6, 2020
Speaking of good news, Monday was the day I discovered John Krasinski’s “Some Good News” video series on YouTube. Worth a watch, if you haven’t seen it yet:
Alas, there was some other news on Monday that wasn’t good. Namely, the deterioration of U.K. Prime Minister Boris Johnson’s condition:
Also in the news Monday, Denver’s stay-at-home order was officially extended to April 30 (though that had been a fait accompli for some time), and Colorado’s statewide order was extended to April 26. I expect that both orders will be eventually be extended again, into May, though I wouldn’t be stunned if there is some slight loosening of certain provisions (or expansion of certain exceptions).
Speaking of which, after dinner on Monday, I had to run a couple of essential errands. This was my first time in two weeks going inside a store (or any other building besides my house) since exactly 14 days earlier, when I bought a chair at Office Depot on the eve of the citywide stay-at-home order. But our cats needed dry food, our foster kittens needed wet food, and I needed a laser printer for my home office. So…
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to use the curbside pickup at Petsmart, because my order was too recent & thus not ready yet. I had to go in.
But, they had good social distancing inside the store. I love the blue tape:
Anyway, mission accomplished…
…and on to nearby Office Depot, where I was able to do the curbside pickup thing:
I made a third stop to fill my tank with gas (with lots of hand sanitizing before & after). En route, I listened to NPR — and heard one hell of a sobering top-of-the-hour news update. I already embedded a two-minute video clip of it, up near the top of this post, but here it is again.
Never imagined I’d be hearing a news update like that in my lifetime. 😐
After getting gas, I headed home, where I was greeted by Scruffles:
Finally, before the girls’ bedtime, I assisted with some final tech prep for the first official day of online school:
Also, during the tech prep, our third-grader (above) discovered that she had received a classroom Buzz Lightyear Award for some of her work during the teacher-driving online school preliminaries in prior weeks. 🙂
All in all, one of the most eventful days of Pandemic Lockdown thus far.
I’ll leave you with some photos of adorable kittens:
BrendanComments Off on Pandemic Lockdown, Days 1-3
I actually didn’t take a ton of photos or videos in the first very first days of our lockdown. So this post may not be as fun as later ones, as it will be mostly text and screenshots. Once we got a bit further into it, I started thinking more consciously about documenting this lockdown period as a moment in time, as you’ll see in subsequent posts.
Anyway, on with the lockdown…
DAY 1: Friday, March 13
Our fifth-grader wasn’t at home when we woke up Friday morning, because she had been on a (well-timed!) overnight class field trip the night before. (They squeezed that one in just under the wire.) As for her older and younger sisters, they headed off to school on Friday the 13th knowing it would be the last day at school for at least three weeks, and very probably longer than that. Indeed, Becky and I felt fairly sure it was the last day of in-person school for the entire year (which would prove correct).
Alas, I didn’t think to take any “last day of school” pictures of the kids. But Becky related a conversation she had at pickup Friday with the principal, who overheard her telling our third-grader to be sure and grab anything from her classroom that she might want for the summer. The principal did a double-take and asked Becky if she really thought school would be out for the rest of the year. Becky said yes, and explained that a mathematical extrapolation of Colorado’s case growth rate showed that, with exponential increases, we would likely have thousands of cases by the time school was supposed to resume in early April. The principal seemed stunned by this notion. (Keep in mind, at this point Colorado only had ~60 confirmed cases.)
Fast forward three weeks, and, well…
Anyway… as for me, although my employer had reaffirmed late on Thursday the 12th that they remained open, and did not “anticipate closing” — though they had contingency plans in place for various scenarios, including the “remote possibility” of a shutdown of the building — I elected to work from home Friday, out of an abundance of caution after feeling ill at work the day before. Also, I frankly anticipated that a general work-from-home policy would be instituted soon, so I wasn’t sure there was much point in risking one last(?) trip to the office on Friday, considering I had brought home enough work when I left Thursday to keep me busy at home for quite a while. So, I set up shop Friday morning in my basement “man cave” — which, as I then suspected & now know, would become my sole office for the foreseeable future.
Let’s see, what else happened on Friday? Oh, yeah, Frozen 2 was released early on Disney Plus, which got me singing:
🎵 Show yourself! (From an adequate distance!) Throw yourself… Into quarantine! 🎵 https://t.co/NdaMJlKTmX
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 13, 2020
Oh, and another important thing that happened on Friday: I texted our contact at Rocky Mountain Feline Rescue about possibly fostering some kittens.
More to come on that in a later post. 🙂
At dinner time, we had an extended discussion with the girls about what their modified screen-time rules would be during the “extended spring break.” (I may post audio from some of that conversation here later.)
Finally, there was this tweet Friday evening:
Late Tuesday, 10yo daughter asked how many #COVID19 cases I thought Colorado would have by the end of the week. We had 17 then, up from 8 the prior morning.
Me: "End of Friday? I bet we're around 70."
We're at 72.
The ability to predict disasters is a shitty superpower, y'all.
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 13, 2020
DAY 2: Saturday, March 14
In consultation with us (well, mostly Becky), the girls set up a whiteboard outlining their day-to-day responsibilites and plans during the upcoming period. Our seventh-grader labeled it the “Corona Panic Plan” board. 😂
As I write this (on April 3), that whiteboard remains a daily staple and centerpiece, in the same exact spot in the living room as three weeks ago.
Also, apropos of nothing, here’s a video of our lizard, Spike, eating mealworms on the 14th:
Last but not least, on April 14, Ted Cruz unironically & favorably retweeted Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez — surely a sign of the apocalypse, if ever there was one. 🙂
DAY 3: Sunday, March 15
Sunday morning brought a new update from my employer, affirming that the firm “remains fully open for business,” but explicitly permitting employees to “intermittently” work from home, barring a business need to be physically in the office. My immediate supervisor followed up a few hours later with an e-mail to her team, telling us she didn’t think there was a need for any of us to be physically in the office this week, and making clear that she preferred we “all work from home if possible.” She added that if we disagree, we should tell her and discuss the issue.
The only photos I took on Sunday were of our TV screen during the (final) Biden-Sanders presidential debate.
Note the social distancing!
In Sunday screenshots, news broke that night that Los Angeles was enacting the first (of many) “Italy-style” shutdowns that we would see in the U.S.:
Also, this:
And this:
In about 75 hours, we went from wondering whether the NCAA would cancel its basketball tournament to a nationwide eight-week moratorium on public gatherings (of 50-plus).
I’ve already covered the broader context, the screenshots, the tweets, the “where were you” moments, etc., of Wednesday 3/11 and Thursday 3/12 in my “Day 0” post.
But Thursday late afternoon and evening were actually sort of the beginning of my “Pandemic Lockdown” — i.e., the period of time when I’m staying home from the office, and from most normal activities outside the house — as you’ll see in a moment.
That said, our official family count considers Friday 3/13 to be “Day 1.” So I’ll designate this last part of Thursday 3/12 as “Day 0.5.”
The new phase in my COVID-19 reality started with this:
Lacking a thermometer at work, I waited till nobody was in the kitchen, then quickly dashed in to retrieve my lunch — being extremely careful not to touch anything unnecessarily, and to immediately wipe down anything I did touch — before returning to my office and precautionarily isolating myself there. I think I even closed the door, like it was #lastman or something. 🙂
I felt perhaps a tiny bit better after eating lunch, but not much. So, around 3:45 or so, I started packing up my things and preparing to leave for the day — and, I consciously thought, perhaps quite a bit longer.
As I walked to my car, I tweeted:
Have been feeling suddenly a bit clammy & achy this afternoon. It’s probably nothing (maybe even psychosomatic), but — just in case — I left work early and am avoiding all contact with people (#lastman is good training for a pandemic!) until I get home & can take my temperature.
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 12, 2020
When I got home, I had to practically run away from my 8-year-old daughter, as I insisted that she not give me a hug yet — not until I could take my temperature.
UPDATE: No fever. 🙂
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 12, 2020
My temperature was subnormal, as per usual. 🙂 97 point something.
Reassured, I took Becky’s advice that self-isolation was unnecessary, and proceeded to take care of some necessary business — like, first and foremost, updating the #GiantBracket:
Poor Bally.
I did also make a quick run to Walgreens — again, this was after confirming I didn’t have a fever — to check if they had a finger Pulse Ox reader thing, a Becky-suggested precaution since I’m an asthmatic with a history of being prone to pnuemonias and whatnot.
They didn’t have one (I would eventually order one off Amazon), but the trip did give me the opportunity to witness firsthand the toilet-paper shortage everyone had been talking about:
Also a thermometer shortage!
Soon after I left Walgreens, news broke that Denver Public Schools was going to make an announcement at 7:00 PM.
I immediately suspected it would be the predicted school closure for the following Monday. And sure enough…
Audio of third-grader’s real-time reaction to school closure
Lastly, my final two pictures from Day 1: What the heck is ESPN going to cover now??
I’m planning to do a series of blog posts using photos, videos, etc., to document each day (or maybe eventually each week or whatever) of my experience of the coronavirus crisis and the resulting shelter-in-place situation.
I realize that my individual experience isn’t significant in the grand scheme of things. (Though Becky’s experience, as an E.R. nurse, is far more notable!) But, the relative insignificance is sort of the point. I’m not really doing this for a broader audience, not primarily. Mainly I’m doing it to document for myself what these days were like for me/us, and what we did (and witnessed) as a family while the crisis was unfolding, lest those specific memories get subsumed eventually into a broader general narrative about this moment in history.
Sometimes, a given day’s documentation may also include a few embedded tweets, or screenshots I took that day, to put things in a broader context — but mostly, this will be about the experience of one man and one family in Denver.
This post is a little different, though. This is the “prequel,” if you will, before our stay-at-home period began. So it’s mostly tweets and screenshots.
I’m starting with Wednesday and Thursday, March 11-12, which I’m collectively calling “Day 0” of the Loy family’s “Pandemic Lockdown” (i.e., the period when at least some members of the family stayed at home from normal activities, like work, school, etc., because of the pandemic). Basically, these two days are like the action-packed prequel immediately before my “sheltering in place” began.
Even so, it began with the kids’ school ostensibly continuing as normal. This was our third-grader’s adorable outfit for “80s day” of school spirit week:
Denver Public Schools kept issuing statements indicating that schools would remain open. But we were skeptical. Becky (who, as an E.R. nurse, had been monitoring COVID-19 closely for some time) had been warning for several days that school would probably be cancelled soon, At home, we started openly musing about the likelihood of an imminent move to online learning — probably sometime the following week, we thought.
Our seventh-grader later reported that, at her middle school, when she and her classmates “informed” their teachers that school would close soon, some teachers scoffed. (In this instance, the kids would be proven right.)
The first school closure came Wednesday morning — a sign of things to come, and soon.
“So it begins” was right — less than 36 hours later, the closure of the entire school system would be announced. But I’ll come back to that later.
Just as the kids went to school as usual Wednesday, I went to work — though not quite as usual. Typically I commute via light rail, and I had done so on Monday and Tuesday. But by Wednesday, that was starting to feel stupid and reckless, so I drove to work for the sake of social distancing.
Also, there was lots of hand-washing.
Meanwhile, it was becoming clear by early Wednesday that all sorts of normal activities were in jeopardy. Like, for instance, my favorite annual sporting event, and a highlight of my calendar every year since I was 9 years old — the NCAA Tournament:
Ever since Becky raised the issue during a memorable dog walk the previous weekend (during which she got me to understand how serious and imminent this coronavirus problem in the U.S. really was), I had slowly come around to the realization that March Madness was at serious risk — notwithstanding the scorn heaped on Dan Wolken when he urged its cancellation Tuesday morning.
On Wednesday, the NCAA tried to chart a middle course, with orders and announcements Wednesday afternoon indicating that games would be played in empty arenas:
But I increasingly thought it was possible, if not likely, that the tournament would instead be cancelled altogether. In large part, I came to this conclusion after a Chris Hayes tweet saying the U.S. was 10 days behind Italy inspired me to make a spreadsheet testing that claim Wednesday afternoon.
Indeed, when I saw just how bad things were “on pace” to get in the U.S. by Selection Sunday (then 4 days away) and the opening weekend of the tournament (8-11 days away), I moved into the “more likely than not it’ll be cancelled” camp. I even interrupted #Twitterless2020 to tweet about it:
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 11, 2020
Wednesday evening
When I came home from work, I was unplugged from the news for a short while, until — in one of my big “where were you?” moments of this crisis — I glanced at my phone while taking out the trash, and saw a breaking-news alert saying the NBA had suspended its season.
In that moment, I pretty much knew: the NCAA Tournament was doomed. And, more broadly, the scale of what was coming began, I think, to sink in a bit more.
I immediately turned around, walked back in the house, and told the kids about the NBA suspension and the European travel ban. (In response, the 12-year-old told me that Tom Hanks had tested positive for coronavirus, having seen it on Discord or TikTok or something.)
Some more screenshots from those remarkable minutes:
Things were also moving quickly on the school-cancellation front, as the Twitter feed of school board member Tay Anderson made clear by Wednesday evening.
As late as midday Tuesday, Anderson had sounded downright dismissive of the idea of a citywide school closure:
Family,
The Governor has declared a state of emergency in response to COVID-19.
In Denver Public Schools we have NOT had any students or staff test positive for the Coronavirus.
ALL schools will remain open and we will continue business as usual.
— Auon’tai M. Anderson (@AuontaiAnderson) March 10, 2020
Even after the news about Cory Elementary, he pretty much stuck to the “business as usual” line:
Today we made the decision to close Cory Elementary School as a PARENT was tested positive for COVID-19.
As of now there they are the only one in the family to be tested positive. We will continue to give live updates as they come in. https://t.co/CqTSmOP4Vc
— Auon’tai M. Anderson (@AuontaiAnderson) March 11, 2020
But, within a matter of hours on Wednesday, his tone began to change:
Family,
I have received all of your calls, texts, and emails around #COVID and I am reaching out to other School Board Directos from across America on what steps they have taken in their districts.
I will continue to update you as we get more information #COVID19colorado
— Auon’tai M. Anderson (@AuontaiAnderson) March 11, 2020
And change even more:
COVID-19 is serious. We need to be proactive not reactive. #COVID19colorado
— Auon’tai M. Anderson (@AuontaiAnderson) March 11, 2020
By Wednesday evening, some 30 hours after saying “ALL schools will remain open and we will continue business as usual,” Anderson was calling for an emergency board meeting:
I saw the letter demanding an emergency board meeting on my phone while in the garage to take out the trash (immediately after the NBA announcement), further cementing my understanding of how fast things were accelerating.
Back in the house, I read Anderson’s series of tweets to the kids, explaining that I was struck by the rapid change in tone from “business as usual” to “emergency meeting.” I had previously assumed school might stay in session for another week or so, but when our 10-year-old asked me that night to predict what would be the first day of the closure, I considered it for a few moments, and then said: “If you want me to predict one specific day… I’ll say Monday.”
I solidified that prediction in a Facebook post Wednesday night:
I would be wrong about the Democratic debate, but exactly right about the rest of it. (And about my Tuesday-night prediction of the number of cases in Colorado by the week’s end.)
Thursday, March 12
Thursday morning, while walking to my office from the cheap parking lot 15 minutes away, I couldn’t resist: I just had to post my Lord of the Rings-referencing tweet about the NCAA Tournament, before it (as I was virtually certain it would) became obsolete within a few hours.
A short while later, having now “cheated” on #Twitterless2020 twice in two days, I bit the bullet and decided to “suspend” it altogether:
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 12, 2020
Needless to say, I was right about there not being a Dance. First came the firehose of conference tournament cancellations:
.@JonRothstein's timeline over the past couple of hours is really quite something. I had to screenshot it for posterity.#Coronavirus: where the inconceivable becomes the inevitable. pic.twitter.com/xSnsrVQkuN
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 12, 2020
When I said I hoped it'd end in a win for Dayton, this wasn't what I had in mind.
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 12, 2020
Here are a few more screenshots I took that day:
Oh, and apropos of nothing, here’s the tweet of the year:
The World Health Organization has announced that dogs cannot contract Covid-19. Dogs previously held in quarantine can now be released. To be clear, WHO let the dogs out.
Anyway… it’s just about time to wrap up this post and start the next one, because my “Pandemic Lockdown” was actually about to begin.
I’ll leave you on a cliffhanger:
Have been feeling suddenly a bit clammy & achy this afternoon. It’s probably nothing (maybe even psychosomatic), but — just in case — I left work early and am avoiding all contact with people (#lastman is good training for a pandemic!) until I get home & can take my temperature.
— @MileHighBrendan was here (and still is sometimes) (@MileHightheGrey) March 12, 2020
So we’ve set up a webcam (#DenverKittenCam) where you can watch our brand-new, adorable, 3-week-old foster kittens. 🙂
The webcam comes & goes, with technical difficulties at times, but I’ve included a few different embeds & links below. I’ll try to keep them, or at least some of them, running as much as possible!
P.S. We got to name them. The kittens are Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Ares, and Zeus, and mama cat is Cleopatra. (“She was young and an actress…”)
BrendanComments Off on The Bernie vs. Bloomberg nightmare
For the life of me, I can’t get this down to letter-to-the-editor length. 🙂 But here’s the latest iteration of my argument:
For Democrats who believe it would be disastrous to nominate either a 78-year-old socialist or a 78-year-old billionaire to face President Trump in November, these are worrisome times.
A passionate progressive plurality has made Bernie Sanders the favorite to win the party’s nomination. Meanwhile, the moderate majority has deep reservations about the Vermont senator’s electability, but is hopelessly divided among four or five alternatives. And, even though only two states have voted, time may already be running out to unite around a single, unifying candidate.
With the March 3 mega-primary fast approaching, the centrist split benefits two people: Sanders, the left-wing polemicist who rails endlessly against billionaires, and Mike Bloomberg, the billionaire who endlessly bombards the airwaves and Internet with his glossy 30-second ads. Among the major Democratic contenders, these men are arguably the two worst options. Unfortunately, Bloomberg’s hundreds of millions of dollars (still less than 1 percent of his fortune) are sucking up all the political oxygen, crowding out worthier candidates.
Take Amy Klobuchar. The 59-year-old Minnesota senator rejuvenated her campaign by surging to a strong third-place finish in New Hampshire, earning more votes than Joe Biden and Elizabeth Warren combined. Klobuchar is a center-left pragmatist with a demonstrable track record of outperforming other Democrats on the same ballot in general elections. She is especially strong among the heartland voters who Democrats desperately need to win the electoral college. Her forward-looking optimism and Midwestern sensibility help uniquely position her as the only candidate who can run on both “change” and “experience” — a winning combination. By any traditional criteria, she is the Democrats’ most logical option by far.
With Biden fading and Sanders rising, one might expect panicked mainstream Democrats to rally around Klobuchar as a broadly acceptable, consensus alternative to the divisive Vermont firebrand. But the alluring siren song of a profligate billionaire is distracting Democrats from the reality at hand. Bloomberg’s untested, unexamined grass-is-greener appeal is empty comfort food for a voter base and a party establishment terrified of making the wrong choice and handing Trump a second term. Yet, in a bitter irony, a second Trump term will become much more likely if Bloomberg emerges as the only non-Sanders option left standing after Super Tuesday.
The true winner of a
Sanders-Bloomberg primary fight would be Donald Trump. Math and timing dictate
that Sanders would almost certainly win a plurality of votes and delegates, so
Bloomberg could only win at a contested convention — denying Sanders a victory that
he and his supporters will believe is rightfully theirs. Such an outcome would
seem to validate every criticism, fair and unfair, that has ever been lobbed at
the Democratic Party by its liberal critics, from the claim that centrists are
“closet Republicans” (Bloomberg was literally a Republican until 2018) to the belief
that every progressive setback is the result of an establishment conspiracy (difficult
to dispute in this instance). Bloomberg will never unite, still less inspire,
the party base. Nominating him would be the ultimate test of whether Sanders
supporters will hold their noses and turn out to vote for literally anyone if the alternative is four more years of Trump. Perhaps
the answer, for most, would be yes. Or perhaps not. Democrats cannot afford to
take such a dire risk.
Yet the opposite outcome is no less risky. If Sanders wins the nomination, as he probably would (Bloomberg is his perfect foil), this momentous election would become a massive political science experiment of grave world-historical consequence. Democrats would essentially be betting the future of liberal democracy on Sanders supporters’ belief that the rules of politics have completely changed. Under this theory, an avowed socialist is actually the most electable candidate — even though his ideology is toxic among many suburban swing voters who would happily vote for a moderate pragmatist like Klobuchar — because he would (supposedly) maximize base turnout, bring out new and infrequent voters, and win back rural Trump backers with class-infused populist polemics. Perhaps that would all prove true, but it goes against the most basic tenets of political strategy borne out by decades of experience. And wagering that “this time is different” is an awful risk to take this year, of all years, given Trump’s already flagrant disregard for constitutional norms, democratic principles, and the rule of law itself.
Uniting now behind Amy Klobuchar offers another path, one that would give Democrats a better option than the nightmare choice between a high-risk Sanders nomination and a party-destroying Bloomberg convention gambit. But it is a narrow path; time is of the essence. Before the front-loaded primary calendar short-circuits their decision, Democratic voters need to rally around a single alternative: not Bloomberg, but Klobuchar. Party leaders should urge them to do just that.
BrendanComments Off on Why centrist Dems should rally behind Klobuchar — now
If party leaders stay on the sidelines . . . Bernie’s momentum, Bloomberg’s money, and the front-loaded primary calendar will overwhelm the race. . . .
The stakes are far too high to simply wait, let the process play out, and hope for the best. A disastrous outcome is not just possible, it is highly likely without some form of intervention. . . .
[T]he only way to avoid the Bernie/Bloomberg nightmare is to unite around a single candidate and urge voters to follow suit — which I believe they would. When sensible leaders lead, voters tend to follow.
Here’s a letter that I just sent to Michael Bennet, one of my U.S. Senators (the good one) and, until recently, a presidential candidate. I’m urging Bennet, who dropped his long-shot POTUS bid in New Hampshire on Tuesday, to endorse Amy Klobuchar ASAP, and to urge his colleagues to do the same. I plan to send similar letters to ex-Gov. John Hickenlooper and some local Dem leaders, and maybe also make a letter-to-the-editor version.
PLEASE NOTE: Because of its intended audience, this letter starts from the premise that Bernie Sanders winning the nomination would decrease Democrats’ chances of beating Trump. I realize that not everyone agrees with that! I’m aware of Bernie supporters’ counterarguments, and I have thoughts on them. 🙂 I will (probably) write a slightly different version of this letter, intended for a different audience, which addresses those arguments, at some point soon. But because I know Bennet already agrees with me about Bernie, I wasn’t going to waste time arguing that point in the letter to him. Anyway…
Dear Senator Bennet,
As a Colorado Democrat, a fellow centrist, and an admirer of the sensible pragmatism that you brought to the presidential race, I write with deep concern that we are now barreling toward a fateful choice between two equally disastrous options: nominating Bernie Sanders, or wresting the nomination from him — likely in favor of an ex-Republican billionaire — after he “wins” the primaries, at a contested convention that would rip the party in two. Either choice probably dooms us in November.
To avoid these dueling
nightmares, sensible party leaders need to come together now — not after
Nevada, and certainly not after South Carolina, but right now — and unite around a single candidate who can beat Bernie
fair and square, then win in November and prevent the cataclysm of a second
Trump term. That is why I am writing to you. Yours is an important voice in the
party; you can help prevent this disaster. I
urge you to act now, and endorse Amy Klobuchar.
As you know, Senator Klobuchar
is an experienced, accomplished leader, and an effective communicator of our
shared Democratic values. She has a relatable Midwestern sensibility, and projects
confidence and optimism, yet is clear-eyed and pragmatic. That combination is
exactly what we need to beat Trump. Her message is forward-looking and hopeful;
her mantra “I know you, and I will fight for you” will resonate in the
heartland. For voters who are, as she puts it, “tired of the noise and the
nonsense,” she offers the reassurance of experience, common sense, and obvious
competence. Yet she is not perceived as a “Washington insider.” She is the only
candidate still in the field who can run on both
“change” and “experience.” That
is a winning combination.
Moreover, while every candidate
has a theory of “electability,” Senator
Klobuchar has a demonstrated track record of not just winning elections, but
winning by much bigger margins than other Democrats running on the same ballot.
And crucially, she substantially outperforms fellow Democrats in rural and
exurban areas, which is precisely where we must be competitive to avoid a
repeat of 2016. That’s not a theory; those are facts. And they show that she
can beat Trump.
But I fear she won’t get the
chance to face Trump, and beat him, if party leaders stay on the sidelines in the
primary. Without a major shift in the next week or two, it is likely that Bernie’s
momentum, Bloomberg’s money, and the frontloaded primary calendar will overwhelm
the race.
Time is of the essence. I
understand the temptation to wait until Vice President Biden has had the
opportunity to gracefully exit the race after making a “last stand” in South
Carolina. But the calendar does not allow it. For one thing, votes are already
being cast by mail, in Colorado and elsewhere. Also, crucially, there are only two days inbetween the South Carolina Primary and Super Tuesday, when 34% of
the total delegates will be chosen. Two days is not remotely enough time for
leaders to coordinate and unite around a single candidate. But coordinating and
uniting after Super Tuesday will not
work. Any such effort will be overtaken by events.
The stakes are far too high to
simply wait, let the process play out, and hope for the best. A disastrous
outcome is not just possible, it is highly
likely without some form of intervention, as the delegate math and the primary
calendar will conspire to leave us with only bad options.
We Democrats must learn from
the mistakes of Republican leaders in 2016. Before they disgraced themselves by
becoming Trump’s thralls, they wanted him
to lose the primary, and they might well have defeated him by forcefully
intervening on behalf of a single alternative candidate. But instead, paralyzed
by indecision and cowardice, the party’s “leaders” chose not tolead. Their elective
paralysis allowed Trump to parlay a string of modest plurality wins over a
divided field (Cruz, Kasich, Rubio) into a big delegate lead, which he then
spun into a narrative of inevitability, persuading the party that it didn’t
dare “steal” the nomination from him. The rest is history.
To be clear: I would never, ever compare Bernie Sanders to Donald
Trump on substance. Like every Democrat running, Bernie is so vastly preferable
to the deranged, delusional, corrupt, authoritarian-minded narcissist bigot
presently debasing the Oval Office, it is an absurdity to suggest even a
scintilla of moral equivalence between them. If Bernie is our nominee, I will support
him whole-heartedly, as I know you will too. Against Trump, we must vote blue
no matter who.
However, also like you, I
believe that nominating Bernie would be a huge strategic error that would make a
Trump victory much more likely. As such, it is important to recognize, and to learn
from, the obvious and important tactical similarities,
not between the candidates themselves, but between the state of the race in our
primary and the equivalent stages of the 2016 GOP primary.
Simply put: when a candidate
has a very reliable core base of passionate supporters who constitute a
decent-sized plurality (but nowhere near a majority) of a party, that candidate
has an inherent advantage over a majority that is hopelessly divided among a
splintered field of broadly acceptable alternatives. And that advantage can rapidly shift the ground beneath a party’s
feet. When party “leaders” fail to lead
in such a scenario, a cascading series of events can very quickly turn a previously
unimaginable outcome into a suddenly inevitable one.
It is unfortunate that we do not use a better voting system, such as Ranked Choice Voting, which would mitigate such dilemmas. I hope you will support the broad adoption of RCV in the coming years, to make primaries fairer and more representative of voters’ true preferences. But in the here and now, the only way to avoid the Bernie/Bloomberg nightmare is to unite around a single candidate and urge voters to follow suit — which I believe they would. When sensible leaders lead, voters tend to follow.
As a constituent and a
like-minded Democrat, I urge you to lead. Show the courage that Republican
leaders did not. Endorse Amy Klobuchar
today, and urge your colleagues to do the same.
The power to change the course
of this race is in your hands, and in the hands of other sensible party leaders
like you, who recognize the stakes and see the big picture. I sincerely hope that
you will meet this moment by helping to rally your party, and Colorado voters,
around Senator Klobuchar as a standard-bearer who will earn the nomination and win
big in November.
Sincerely,
[me]
P.S. I explained above why I believe Senator Klobuchar is
the best centrist choice to unite around. I suppose I should also explain why I
believe the other centrists in the race are not
the best choice.
Mayor Bloomberg is a billionaire ex-Republican whose
nomination would seem to validate every criticism, fair and unfair, that has
been lobbed at the Democratic Party by Sanders supporters and other liberal critics.
He will never unite, still less inspire, the party base. I would vote for Bloomberg
over Trump; I would vote for a pile of moldy cheese over Trump. But to nominate
him would be the ultimate test of whether the grassroots is willing to hold its
nose and vote for literally anyone when
the alternative is four more years of Trump. Maybe they would, but no one can know
for certain, and it is a risk we cannot afford to take.
Similarly, I believe it is too risky to nominate a relatively unvetted regional politician, brand-new to the national stage, with a résumé as thin as Mayor Buttigieg’s. I like Pete; I think he may be president someday. But in this election, against this existential menace, we cannot bet the Republic’s future on the untested hope that general-election voters would embrace him, when it is equally possible that they will judge him insubstantial, inauthentic, or otherwise unacceptable. We simply do not know how he will be perceived by the broader electorate, and we must not take the risk. The comparisons to President Obama, a generational political talent who had substantially more experience and time in the national spotlight when he ran in 2008, are inevitable but inaccurate. What’s more, the stakes in 2020 are so much higher than in any other election in living memory. Mayor Pete has a promising future, but he is the wrong choice to take on Trump.
As for Joe Biden, it is apparent that when voters see
him up close, and compare him to the alternatives, they conclude that he is not
the man for this moment. I must reluctantly agree. I have great affection for
Vice President Biden; I wish he had run in 2016. I think he would’ve won then.
But in this race he has struggled to articulate his message; he lacks a compelling,
forward-looking vision; and he would be far too easy to caricature and demagogue
as just another “insider” and a candidate whose time has come and gone. Joe is a
good man, but he is no longer the best messenger for our message. More to the
point, and in stark contrast to Senator Klobuchar, his fortunes are moving in exactly
the wrong direction. Joe Biden will not win this primary, and his continued presence
in the race only splinters the field, helping Sanders and Bloomberg.
I recognize how distasteful it feels to write off a
former vice president’s chances so quickly, based mostly on election results in
just two states — especially states that are so unrepresentative. (Therein lies
another flaw in the system that must be fixed in the coming years.) And if the
stakes of this November’s election were a bit lower, or the primary calendar
less front-loaded, I would support withholding judgment on Biden for a bit
longer. But wishing for a better process does not make it so. And in this system, with this calendar, a decision has to be made now. To delay a decision is to “decide not to decide” until it is too
late for the decision to be meaningful, as the Republicans did in 2016. Thus, as
Vice President Biden’s poll numbers continue to decline, he should be gently
encouraged to exit the race, rather than play spoiler. Ideally he would drop
out before South Carolina, or at the latest immediately afterward, before Super
Tuesday.
Senator Klobuchar, of course, is not without flaws
herself. Notably, she needs financial and organizational resources. A string of
high-profile endorsements, by leaders rallying around her as a standard-bearer,
would help tremendously with that. She also clearly needs to diversify her base
of support — though in fairness, she has really only just been introduced to
the nation as a viable candidate in the last few days, and I believe her base will
indeed broaden as the campaign now shifts to more diverse states. In any case, again,
if party leaders rally around her, that will inevitably help her reach new
voters and expand her appeal. Again, the answer is to lead, rather than waiting to see what the polls say and then
following them.