After six and a half years of trying to stay in the middle of the road, I’ve decided to pull over. Not park—just pull over.
Eventually, all things come to an end. Even personally rewarding journeys like writing “Memo from the Middle” can’t last forever. Nor should they. Having come to a natural fork in the road, I’ve decided this will be my final weekly column for the Reno Gazette Journal.
I’ll always be grateful for the opportunity to have an ongoing conversation with many of you, as well as the one within myself. Along with appreciating you, the readers, I want to thank the former and current editors at the RGJ: Warren Lerude, Peggy Santoro and Brett McGinness. Without their support, I could never have brought forth what readers found to be both interesting and, at times, infuriating.
Middle of the lane
Attempting to stay in the self-identified “middle of the lane” was a departure from the left-leaning days of my youth and the right-side leanings of my political past. It was lonely at times, as friends from both sides of the political aisle found my column neither hot nor cold enough to satisfy their partisan preferences. Occasionally, I felt as grim and abandoned as Job, trying to avoid swerving into the ditches on both the far-right and far-left sides of the nonpartisan highway I was trying to navigate.
To me, a moderate approach is more than political pragmatism. It’s a way of accepting reality in a diverse society in the hope of steering clear of destructive extremes.
I continue to believe that most Nevadans, along with most Americans, are closer in views and values than pollsters and social media influencers would have us believe. That’s not to say criticism isn’t important. Criticism is as important for a columnist as low-intensity fires are for new growth in a forest cluttered with old trees. It’s why I tried to answer personally the hundreds of emails I received from readers.
What I tried to do
“Memo from the Middle” started out as a kind of political prognosis from a recovering partisan politician. I tried not to tell others what to think as much as how to think about the issues making up our current debates.
Human beings have been given two ears and just one mouth. Yet too often we listen not to understand another’s point of view, but to arm ourselves with self-affirming ammunition for political war. That has gotten us where we find ourselves now: one dangerously polarized country.
When we contend that people with differing views are not just wrong but evil, we abandon real dialogue and the principles of a democratic republic. When a warring husband and wife stop listening and talking to each other, they are headed toward divorce. I fear we may be heading down the same road if we can’t see the necessity of reconciling our differences.
There are many other voices to be heard in Nevada, and many of the best of them are surely younger than me. They should be listened to, as the present will land in their laps and the future will depend on what they can say and do for the next generation of Nevadans.
Darkest hour before the dawn
If it’s true, as nature and ancient wisdom suggest, that the darkest hour of night is just before the dawn, then hopefully we are in for better times in America. I can’t imagine the personal and political rancor getting much worse before we realize as a country that we are coming perilously close to hitting rock bottom.
When John Steinbeck finished one of his last books, “Travels with Charley,” the great chronicler of American character wrote about a well-known political reporter friend who recently had been “grass rooting with political candidates, and when I saw him he was not happy, because he loves his country, and he felt a sickness in it.” It’s a sadness many of us feel today. Feeling sick about what’s currently going on in the country, the wise among us should seek a cure.
Maybe we are in for a kind of national requiem, marking the passing of politics and political parties as we have known them. Hopefully, our present predicament gives rise to a new dawn, like the morning sunrise that burns away a long and chilling night. I continue to look toward that dawn for both our country and our state.
What’s next?
When a person passes into the fourth quarter-century of life, you could say they are in its “autumn.” Just as fall is the season of reaping what the earth has sown, this phase is supposed to bring a sense of inner abundance, accumulated wisdom and the fruits of a life’s work.
I am happily experiencing those things. The harvest, and the art of letting go like trees shedding their autumn leaves, are worthwhile goals for a person seventy-six years young.
I hope to keep contributing to this, my hometown newspaper, in whatever form it evolves into. I also plan to keep interviewing notable and even notorious Nevadans for my new blog, to stay connected directly with many of you who have responded to my writing. The blog will also hold my past columns and features, like hiking around Lake Tahoe and finally going to Vietnam, and I’ll let you in on future journeys as well. If you’d like the link, send me an email and we’ll remain in touch.
Robert Frost’s traveler in “The Road Not Taken” tells us he “took the one less traveled by.” But earlier in the poem, Frost admits the two roads had been worn “really about the same.” For a fellow who spent six years in the middle, that sounds about right. Maybe our roads were never as far apart as we thought.
By writing a blog and an occasional column, I’m certain to find myself, in the words of Willie Nelson, “on the road again.” Just not quite always in the middle.
After years of looking for the right road, I’ve found that all the roads I’ve traveled are merging into one. It leads to the peace, and the place I always wanted, because home means Nevada.
I thank each of you. Reach out at: tahoeboy68@gmail.com