All the kids are pitching in this year. Ben's getting ready to plant his garden again and Robert couldn't get enough. The only place in our yard for a garden is quite steep. Well, it was. Ben terraced it over the course of the last week. Now he just needs to have enough patience to wait to plant anything until temperatures stay warm enough. Fingers crossed for lots of homegrown tomatoes in a few months!
Ben and I finally made good on our promise. About this time, one year ago, when we were looking for a bigger house, we sold the idea to James and Kate by promising to choose a house with a yard large enough for the Costco slide. We found it used on ksl.com in December and Ben, my dad, and a couple of friends disassembled it and brought it to our backyard. Ben put it together back together about a month ago. And now, it's finally warm enough to play on it. And we do. Nearly every evening. James has figured out how to pump on his own. Kate's working on it. Robert just loves to swing. It's got a little picnic table built into it and we had our first dinner there about two weeks ago. Welcome Spring.
At the risk of alienating any readers (there aren't many of you, but I would guess that most of you do not share my view here), I feel compelled to share a few thoughts about yesterday's historic vote to reform out nation's health care system.The day before Sunday’s health care vote, President Obama gave an unscripted talk to House Democrats. Near the end, he spoke about why his party should pass reform: “Every once in a while a moment comes where you have a chance to vindicate all those best hopes that you had about yourself, about this country, where you have a chance to make good on those promises that you made ... And this is the time to make true on that promise. We are not bound to win, but we are bound to be true. We are not bound to succeed, but we are bound to let whatever light we have shine.”
And on the other side, here’s what Newt Gingrich, the Republican former speaker of the House — a man celebrated by many in his party as an intellectual leader — had to say: If Democrats pass health reform, “They will have destroyed their party much as Lyndon Johnson shattered the Democratic Party for 40 years” by passing civil rights legislation.
I’d argue that Mr. Gingrich is wrong about that: proposals to guarantee health insurance are often controversial before they go into effect — Ronald Reagan famously argued that Medicare would mean the end of American freedom — but always popular once enacted.
But that’s not the point I want to make today. Instead, I want you to consider the contrast: on one side, the closing argument was an appeal to our better angels, urging politicians to do what is right, even if it hurts their careers; on the other side, callous cynicism. Think about what it means to condemn health reform by comparing it to the Civil Rights Act. Who in modern America would say that L.B.J. did the wrong thing by pushing for racial equality? (Actually, we know who: the people at the Tea Party protest who hurled racial epithets at Democratic members of Congress on the eve of the vote.)
And that cynicism has been the hallmark of the whole campaign against reform.
Yes, a few conservative policy intellectuals, after making a show of thinking hard about the issues, claimed to be disturbed by reform’s fiscal implications (but were strangely unmoved by the clean bill of fiscal health from the Congressional Budget Office) or to want stronger action on costs (even though this reform does more to tackle health care costs than any previous legislation). For the most part, however, opponents of reform didn’t even pretend to engage with the reality either of the existing health care system or of the moderate, centrist plan — very close in outline to the reform Mitt Romney introduced in Massachusetts — that Democrats were proposing.
Instead, the emotional core of opposition to reform was blatant fear-mongering, unconstrained either by the facts or by any sense of decency.
It wasn’t just the death panel smear. It was racial hate-mongering, like a piece in Investor’s Business Daily declaring that health reform is “affirmative action on steroids, deciding everything from who becomes a doctor to who gets treatment on the basis of skin color.” It was wild claims about abortion funding. It was the insistence that there is something tyrannical about giving young working Americans the assurance that health care will be available when they need it, an assurance that older Americans have enjoyed ever since Lyndon Johnson — whom Mr. Gingrich considers a failed president — pushed Medicare through over the howls of conservatives.
And let’s be clear: the campaign of fear hasn’t been carried out by a radical fringe, unconnected to the Republican establishment. On the contrary, that establishment has been involved and approving all the way. Politicians like Sarah Palin — who was, let us remember, the G.O.P.’s vice-presidential candidate — eagerly spread the death panel lie, and supposedly reasonable, moderate politicians like Senator Chuck Grassley refused to say that it was untrue. On the eve of the big vote, Republican members of Congress warned that “freedom dies a little bit today” and accused Democrats of “totalitarian tactics,” which I believe means the process known as “voting.”
Without question, the campaign of fear was effective: health reform went from being highly popular to wide disapproval, although the numbers have been improving lately. But the question was, would it actually be enough to block reform?
And the answer is no. The Democrats have done it. The House has passed the Senate version of health reform, and an improved version will be achieved through reconciliation.
This is, of course, a political victory for President Obama, and a triumph for Nancy Pelosi, the House speaker. But it is also a victory for America’s soul. In the end, a vicious, unprincipled fear offensive failed to block reform. This time, fear struck out.
Tonight is the last night of the 45-day 2010 Utah legislative session. Until tonight, I hadn't been down to watch any of the proceedings. I pulled up a folding chair next to Ben's desk. Then, I sat next to his empty chair for the better part of two hours. Ben told me his A.D.D. really comes out during floor time. He can't seem to stay in his seat for more than a five minute period. Admittedly, he's not the only one walking about and in and out. Everyone gets notes requesting that they meet with a lobbyist in the hall or with a House or fellow Senate member. All of them are up and about at various times. But Ben outdoes them all in this respect. Way to stand out, Ben!
