Another Week: Number 146

Sometimes the seasons change dramatically, but this time it was a gentle turn at a fork in the road. On Sunday, my windows were open and I heard the warm, dry rattle as the southwest wind blew leaves across the pavement. I took the lounge chair out to the backyard to read. Monday afternoon, I wore shorts and my Chicago Cubs T-shirt one last time to aggravate people on my neighborhood walk.

Some rain drifted through Tuesday morning, and the wind switched to the northeast, dropping the temperature into the upper 50s. I walked again — but this time in jeans and a sweatshirt.

Both the Chicago Bears and the Green Bay Packers had byes this week. The Cubs waited until Saturday night to lose the final game of their divisional series to the Milwaukee Brewers, bringing baseball season to a close for me.

Over the two decades I have lived in this house, soliciting has never been a big problem. There would be occasional kids fundraising for school stuff, and Jehovah’s Witnesses all dressed up on a beautiful Saturday maybe once a year, but that was about it.

This summer, for some reason, people selling all sorts of home improvement — roofing, siding, windows, furnaces, security systems, etc. — were pounding on my door or ringing my bell maybe every other day.

A few times, I tried explaining that this 1930s marketing approach is now outdated and rude. You’re basically interrupting my work or my dinner or my TV-watching to confront me with an in-person commercial — and expecting my courtesy. Then you’re compounding that annoyance by telling lies like, “I’m not selling anything.”

Either get a website so I can find you when I’m looking, or send me junk mail I can throw away.

One young woman with a cartoonish voice and a humorous hat snapped at me, “You should get a ‘No Soliciting’ sign.” She was absolutely right. I ordered one from Amazon on Tuesday, and installed it Wednesday morning.

Then, on Saturday, I got an unsolicited text message from a woman with the Democratic Party who wanted me to go canvassing for Wisconsin’s 1st congressional district race.

Gulp — because, of course, I have many times been the same clueless evangelist that’s so offensive on the other side of the door.

One of my first jobs was selling Kirby vacuum cleaners. Starting with Bill Clinton’s first campaign, Amy and I did canvassing and lit drops for Democratic House, Senate, and gubernatorial candidates. Racine’s current mayor was pacing around his campaign office when we returned from five hours knocking doors for him one Saturday in October, and he didn’t even bother to say “Thanks.”

I texted Madeleine back and asked to be removed from her list. I expressed my skepticism that Democrats can “Fuller Brush” their way back into power, and my disappointment that we have lost 16 congressional elections in a row since 1994, touting iffy candidates like Randy Bryce and Peter Barca.

I’m not sure how you counter billion-dollar blitzes of apocalyptic ads and memes hammering away at transgender illegal alien rapists every 30 seconds — but I don’t think door-to-door is working anymore.

I walked 6.67 miles this week.

American Experience: ‘Hard Hat Riot’

Monday morning, I watched the latest installment of American Experience, which had aired the previous Tuesday.

“Hard Hat Riot” examines the violence that broke out in lower Manhattan on May 8, 1970 between construction workers and students protesting the Vietnam War.

I was nine years old at the time, and I was not aware of this exact event, but “hard hats vs. peaceniks” became a common trope in Mad magazine, my primary news source at the time.

Watching this well-done doc, it’s clear that our country’s current political divisions go way back — as does the pigeonholing and exploitation of well-intentioned people to drive agendas.

Additional reading: “How We Got Here: The Hard Hats Strike Back,” by Christopher Saunders, May 14, 2018.