Happy Birthday, America
Dad taking a selfie with his Konica T3 in 1976. He was 38. At 39, he learned he had lung cancer, and at 41 he died. I loved him very much.
When I was 10 years old, my parents and I went on a cross-country trip that included stopping in Philadelphia on July 4, 1976 -- the country's bicentennial. During the fireworks show in a public park, where thousands of people had gathered, we all started singing "Happy Birthday" to our own country, spontaneously. It was very cool.
Now I'm 60, the country is 250, and I don't feel like singing.
I love what America can be, but what it is right now... well, if we were a married couple, we'd be in therapy.
I think the fix is ranked-choice voting, which rewards centrists over extremists. Alaska tried it in its last governor's race. If we could run the 2028 presidential election that way, most peoples' second or third choice would win: a forced compromise, giving us time to heal.
Republicans and Democrats can run the country reasonably well, when they act out of love for the country, and when they're forced to sit down and compromise. (It worked for my parents, who usually voted for opposite teams, but loved their marriage.)
Far right and far right loonies, pressing forward with middle-fingers raised, will break the union.