What to watch, listen to while sheltering in place from coronavirus

Many of us are undoubtedly spending more time looking for ways to entertain, inspire and distract ourselves during the coronavirus pandemic. Here's a list of movies, TV shows and songs that my daughter Leah and I are putting that that might be worth your time and/or speak in some way to the current situation. I'll keep this list updated as I come across new recommendations and try to update it every week (subscribe to the blog if you're interested in getting updates).

MOVIES

The King's Speech (2010, Rated PG-13): An Oscar Best Picture winner, this is an inspiring tale of King George's VI struggle to overcome a speech impediment and rally his country with his words during the dark days leading up to World War II. This movie particularly hits home in the wake of his daughter Queen Elizabeth's recent speech rallying her nation in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic.

The Two Popes (2019, Rated PG-13): A beautifully shot, directed and acted film about the strained, spirited and ultimately spiritual relationship between conservative Pope Benedict (Anthony Hopkins) and liberal Pope Francis (Jonathan Pryce) is a perfect selection for Easter weekend. The theological debates between the two are often as fierce as the political debates we saw during the Democratic presidential primary, but in the end the two come together in a way Democrats can only hope that Joe Biden and Bernie Sanders do. Even if you're not into Catholicism and papal politics, the striking cinematography that captures the splendor of Italy makes this movie worth watching.

The China Syndrome (1979, rated PG): This thriller starring acting luminaries Jane Fonda, Michael Douglas and Jack Lemon spotlights the daring and dangerous work of TV journalists and a nuclear power plant whistleblower to reveal the truth about a nuclear accident and the resulting threats to public safety. A timely movie in light of all we've learned over the past few years about the importance of whistleblowers and journalists to inform the public about things that the powerful and self-interested would much prefer to keep hidden.

The Florida Project (2017, Rated R): Being isolated at home during a pandemic is one thing; being isolated in a motel room on the outskirts of Disney World because of poverty is something far different. This critically acclaimed movie starring Willem Dafoe as the stern yet compassionate manager of a cheap motel where single, impoverished parents raise their kids is at times both heartbreaking and heartwarming. Heartbreaking because it forces us to peer into the uncomfortable truths of inequality and the gulf between the haves and have nots in America, miles from Florida's version of the the Happiest Place on Earth. Heartwarming because it shows the capacity of children to find friendship and joy even amid the most difficult of circumstances, proving that there truly is more to life than money (kudos to my daughter Leah for recommending that we watch this one).

Signs (2002, Rated PG-13): It only took me nearly 20 years to get around to watching this M. Night Shyamalan mystery-thriller. As with our current predicament, this movie finds the inhabitants of earth hunkering down in their homes as a mysterious event overwhelms the planet. Not quite a great movie, it nevertheless keeps you on the edge of your seat wondering how it will all turn out as an ex-minister (Mel Gibson) struggles to rediscover his faith while questioning whether there is a deeper meaning to the twists and turns, and tragedies, of life (the answer finally comes into focus at the end). Also a good opportunity to a young Joaquin Phoenix.

Gorillas in the Mist (1988, Rated PG-13): Based on the true-life story of an aspiring naturalist (Diann Fossey, played by Sigourney Weaver) who quickly finds herself in over her head as she navigates civil war and deprivation of deepest Africa to study and eventually bond with and save mountain gorillas from extinction. The moral of the story: Following your passion and persevering through adversity can not only make a difference in the world but teach you important lessons about yourself: namely, that you're capable of much more than you ever thought possible.

  

(From Leah) Leave No Trace (2018, Rated PG) A father and daughter live a perfect but mysterious existence in Forest Park, a beautiful nature reserve near Portland, Oregon, rarely making contact with the world. But when a small mistake tips them off to authorities, they are sent on an increasingly erratic journey in search of a place to call their own. This is perfect to watch because it shows these two strangers trying to find a home of their own and trying to adapt to new environments. This explores theme of togetherness and resilience. This is a peaceful, quiet, and tranquil movie that is perfect to calm your nerves. 

 

(From Leah) The Princess Bride (1987, Rated PG): A fairy tale adventure about a beautiful young woman and her one true love. He must find her after a long separation and save her. They must battle the evils of the mythical kingdom of Florin to be reunited with each other. Based on the William Goldman novel "The Princess Bride," which earned its own loyal audience. This movie is perfect escapism and a fun ride through a magical fantasy and romance. It's funny, sweet, lighthearted, and can make anyone smile no matter the age. A perfect movie to bring up your spirits.

 

(From Leah) Silver Linings Playbook (2013, Rated R):  After losing his job and wife, and spending time in a mental institution, Pat Solatano (Bradley Cooper) winds up living with his parents (Robert De Niro, Jacki Weaver). He wants to rebuild his life and reunite with his wife, but his parents would be happy if he just shared their obsession with the Philadelphia Eagles. Things get complicated when Pat meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), who offers to help him reconnect with his wife, if he will do something very important for her in exchange.

 

(From Leah) Her (2013, Rated R): A sensitive and soulful man earns a living by writing personal letters for other people. Left heartbroken after his marriage ends, Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix) becomes fascinated with a new operating system which reportedly develops into an intuitive and unique entity in its own right. He starts the program and meets "Samantha" (Scarlett Johansson), whose bright voice reveals a sensitive, playful personality. Though "friends" initially, the relationship soon deepens into love. A movie about love and adoration in many forms, this is a movie with a perfect amount of drama and a perfect amount of romance.

 (From Leah) Winter's Bone (2010, Rated R) Faced with an unresponsive mother and a criminal father, Ozark teenager Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence) does what she can to manage the household and take care of her two younger siblings. Informed by the sheriff (Garret Dillahunt) that their father put their home up for bond and then disappeared, Ree sets out on a dangerous quest to find him. Her entire family's fate now in her hands, Ree challenges her outlaw kin's code of silence and risks her life to learn her father's fate. This is a movie about strength, resourcefulness, and what you do for love. 

 (From Leah) Freedom Writers (2007, Rated PG-13) A dedicated teacher (Hilary Swank) in a racially divided Los Angeles school has a class of at-risk teenagers deemed incapable of learning. Instead of giving up, she inspires her students to take an interest in their education and planning their future. She assigns reading material that relates to their lives and encourages them all to keep journals.

 (From Leah) Forrest Gump (1994, Rated PG-13) Slow-witted Forrest Gump (Tom Hanks) has never thought of himself as disadvantaged, and thanks to his supportive mother (Sally Field), he leads anything but a restricted life. Whether dominating on the gridiron as a college football star, fighting in Vietnam or captaining a shrimp boat, Forrest inspires people with his childlike optimism. But one person Forrest cares about most may be the most difficult to save -- his childhood love, the sweet but troubled Jenny (Robin Wright).

 (From Leah) The Aeronauts (2019, PG-13) In 1862 headstrong scientist James Glaisher and wealthy young widow Amelia Wren mount a balloon expedition to fly higher than anyone in history. As their perilous ascent reduces their chances of survival, the unlikely duo soon discover things about themselves -- and each other -- that help both of them find their place in the world.

 (From Leah) V For Vendetta (2005, Rated R) Following world war, London is a police state occupied by a fascist government, and a vigilante known only as V (Hugo Weaving) uses terrorist tactics to fight the oppressors of the world in which he now lives. When V saves a young woman named Evey (Natalie Portman) from the secret police, he discovers an ally in his fight against England's oppressors.

 (From Leah) Cast Away (2000, Rated PG-13)  Obsessively punctual FedEx executive Chuck Noland (Tom Hanks) is en route to an assignment in Malaysia when his plane crashes over the Pacific Ocean during a storm. The sole survivor of the flight, Chuck washes ashore on a deserted island. When his efforts to sail away and contact help fail, Chuck learns how to survive on the island, where he remains for years, accompanied by only his handmade volleyball friend, Wilson. Will Chuck ever return to civilization and reunite with his loved ones?

 (From Leah) The Help (2011, PG-13)  In 1960s Mississippi, Southern society girl Skeeter (Emma Stone) returns from college with dreams of being a writer. She turns her small town on its ear by choosing to interview the black women who have spent their lives taking care of prominent white families. Only Aibileen (Viola Davis), the housekeeper of Skeeter's best friend, will talk at first. But as the pair continue the collaboration, more women decide to come forward, and as it turns out, they have quite a lot to say.

 (From Leah) Melancholia (2011, Rated R) A planet hurtles toward a collision course with Earth. Two sisters, one of them trying to recover from a heavy bout of depression and a failed marriage, cope with their destiny in very different ways. A movie literally about the end of the world, shows a mystical and moving take on this sci-fi drama.

 (From Leah) Donnie Darko (2001, Rated R) During the presidential election of 1988, a teenager named Donnie Darko sleepwalks out of his house one night and sees a giant, demonic-looking rabbit named Frank, who tells him the world will end in 28 days. When Donnie returns home, he finds that a jet engine has crashed into his bedroom. Is Donnie living in a parallel universe, is he suffering from mental illness - or will the world really end?

 (From Leah) The Girl With All The Gifts (2016, Rated R) One of several children immune to a mutated fungal disease that has eradicated free will and turned the rest of humanity into cannibalistic zombies, a gifted young girl escapes the safety of a special school and helps guide mankind's survival.

 TV SHOWS

The Crown (Netflix): The History Channel meets Lifetime in this brilliant drama series chronicling the reign of Queen Elizabeth II, filled with equal parts political and family turmoil. A young queen struggles to unify her nation and her family through turbulent times after the death of her father, King George VI. Not surprisingly, she finds that leading a nation is much easier than managing a royal family, and at times no place on earth is as self-isolating as Buckingham Palace.

Lost in Space (Netflix): This reboot of the campy 1960s TV series chronicles the misadventures of the Robinson family through the vast reaches of outer space. Much is different with this version, and not just the modern special effects and spruced-up theme song. The Robinsons are a multi-racial clan, Maureen Robinson does much more than cook meals in the galley of the "Jupiter 2," and the sinister Dr. Smith is a woman (who is just as devious but much less cowardly than the original). But some things thankfully remain the same, most notably the special human bond between a boy and his robot.

The Good Place (Netflix):  No sitcom has made me laugh this much since "Friends" (and we certainly need reasons to laugh right now). Four flawed humans bite the dust and find themselves trying to justify an afterlife in The Good Place, which is seemingly filled with all-you-can-eat frozen yogurt shops on every corner. But things aren't always what they seem, and in this world, the struggle to become a better person doesn't end on your deathbed.



 (From Leah) The OA (Netflix)

Description

In addition to her role as creator and executive producer of this mind-bending series, Brit Marling also plays the role of Prairie Johnson, a young woman who returns home after a 7-year disappearance. Her sudden return is not the only miraculous occurrence: everyone is shocked to learn that Prairie is no longer blind. While the FBI and her parents are anxious to discuss Prairie's disappearance, she won't talk about what happened during the time that she was missing. Zal Batmanglij, the co-creator and an executive producer of the series, is the director of every episode.This show is mysterious, mystical, and mind blowing. A true hidden gem. It explores themes of the meaning of life and perseverance. A thought-provoking, empowering show that has unique characters and plots you'll fall in love with.

 (From Leah) Cheer (Netflix) Cheer is an American television docuseries airing on Netflix starting in January 2020.^[1] The six-part series follows the nationally ranked 40-member Navarro College Bulldogs Cheer Team from Corsicana, Texas, under the direction of coach Monica Aldama, as they prepare to compete in the National Cheerleading Championship held annually in Daytona, Florida.^[2][3] The episodes focus especially on five individual Cheer Team members and include elements of the history of cheerleading, including the formation of the National Cheerleaders Association (NCA).^[4]

 (From Leah) The Handmaid's Tale (Hulu)  The Handmaid's Tale is an American dystopian tragedy web television series created by Bruce Miller, based on the 1985 novel of the same name by Canadian author, Margaret Atwood. The series was ordered by the streaming service Hulu as a straight-to-series order of 10 episodes, for which production began in late 2016. The plot features a dystopia following a Second American Civil War wherein a totalitarian society subjects fertile women, called "Handmaids", into child-bearing slavery

 (From Leah) The Mandalorian (Disney +)  A lone gunfighter makes his way through the outer reaches of the galaxy, far from the authority of the New Republic.

 (From Leah) Glow Up (Netflix) In this competition series, aspiring makeup artists navigate colorful challenges to win a career-making opportunity in the beauty industry. Full of color, wonder, and creativity. This is the perfect show to watch when you need some inspiration. 

 (From Leah) Big Little Lies (HBO Now And Hulu)  Based on the same-titled bestseller by Liane Moriarty, "Big Little Lies" weaves a darkly comedic tale of murder and mischief in the tranquil beachfront town of Monterey, Calif. Amidst doting moms, successful husbands, beautiful children, and stunning homes exists a community fueled by rumors and divided into haves and have-nots, exposing fractured relationships between husbands and wives, parents and children, and friends and neighbors. Told through the eyes of three mothers -- Madeline, Celeste and Jane -- the series' narrative explores society's myths regarding perfection and its romanticization of marriage, sex, parenting and friendship. Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman and Shailene Woodley star as the three prominent "mothers of Monterey."





 (From Leah) Glow (Netflix) Alison Brie stars as Ruth Wilder, an out-of-work actress living in Los Angeles in the '80s. Wilder finds an unexpected chance at stardom: enter the glitter and spandex-laden world of women's wrestling, where she must work alongside 12 other Hollywood misfits. Marc Maron plays the role of Sam Sylvia, a washed-up director of "B" movies who tries to lead the group of women to fame. The series is created by Carly Mensch and Liz Flahive, who serve as executive producers with Jenji Kohan and Tara Herrmann.

SONGS

Bridge over Troubled Water (Simon and Garfunkel): The perfect song to see us through troubled times (and a reminder that social distancing or not, people need each other more than ever). 

From a Distance (Bette Midler): In times of struggle and crisis, we need reasons to fill hopeful, and the Divine Ms. M's soaring hymn envisioning a better world ranks as one of the most hopeful songs ever written. "From a distance, we all have enough, and no one is in need. And there are no guns, no bombs, and no disease." 

Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Green Day): Probably not the most uplifting of tunes for this time, but are any lyrics from any song ever written more fitting right now? "I walk alone, I walk alone, I walk alone."

 (From Leah) Alive (Sia)

 (From Leah) Dreaming (Jasmine Thompson)

(From Leah) I Get Overwhelmed (Dark Rooms)

(From Leah) Eye of The Tiger (Survivor)

(From Leah) Fallingwater (Maggie Rogers) 

Why change in education must come from the bottom up

As the challenge of educating and providing for the well-being of our children continues to grow, so does a popular storyline: That the problems facing our schools originate in Washington, D.C., or our state capitols, and therefore that is where the solutions lie.

I think that is wrong and a cop out. The solutions can often lie within our individual school districts and school boards, which for too long have failed to show the leadership needed to address the profound challenges facing our children.

Too often, our local leaders choose to point the finger and place responsibility for solving these challenges at the feet of others, all the while rubber-stamping the status quo or shirking the controversial questions of the day as they focus on personal agendas or loyalties to local interest groups.

We've seen it on the issue of school safety in the years since the Sandy Hook massacre. Instead of making the safety of our children a priority amid the gun violence epidemic, most school districts quickly went back to business as usual and chose to stay as far from the broader political debates as possible. The Martinez Unified school board wouldn't even do something as basic as pass a resolution calling on state and national leaders to address the issue with action, as as at least one neighboring district did. As a result, there was little or no pressure on national leaders to solve the problem once and for all, and school shootings and violence have only grown in the years since.

It is time for school boards to stand with children and not behind them on the issue of safety.

There was another opportunity for change after the Parkland, Florida, massacre last spring when students across the country, including right here in Martinez, stood up and demanded action that has been missing for so long. But once again, school boards such as our own showed no willingness to wade into the broader societal issue and chose instead to tell our students, "We hope your generation fixes this." Instead of passing the buck, imagine what might happen if school boards across the state and nation banded together to place relentless pressure on state and national leaders to fix the problem of gun violence and make our schools safe? 

The issues surrounding sexual harassment and assault stemming from the #MeToo movement have provided another opportunity for school boards to take the lead on addressing the prevalence of this problem in their own schools, where it surely exists. But as with gun violence, it's so much easier to chalk this up as a societal and not a local issue and pay it little more than lip service. School boards could be on the front end of revamping their sex education curriculums to adapt to the changing realities and awareness around this issue, but it's so much easier to simply wait for direction from the state or national government, which is often slow to come, if it ever does.

In the area of school funding, we see how much easier it is for districts to simply point the finger at the state or national governments for failing to provide enough money to meet their needs, instead of taking a hard look at ways to root out waste and inefficiency in their budgets and ensure that our tax dollars are spent efficiently and with an eye toward achieving the most impact for the most students. Our school board leaders often seem to expect blind loyalty on the part of taxpayers to entrust them with more money without showing that those dollars are being spent transparently and wisely in a way that places the interests of students and taxpayers first. And to the degree that a lack of funding is a problem, why aren't they doing more to pressure leaders in state capitols and make clear to legislators that they demand more support from them? 

Our school board leaders often cast themselves as being above politics and partisanship, which gives them cover from dodging the divisive issues that directly impact our schools. But in reality, they often align themselves with local interest groups, whether they be business or labor oriented, that may place their interests and priorities ahead of those of our children. I saw that first-hand last spring when, amid the tumult of school safety concerns and an exodus of teachers from our district, our board in Martinez decided to prioritize a project labor agreement sought by local trade unions that had given two board members thousands of dollars in campaign contributions (one board member called the negotiation process a "money grab" and a "crock" because of how one-sided and unfair it was to the interests of district stakeholders). In the case of the West Contra Costa Unified School District, this type of blind allegiance to campaign contributors and interest groups led to widespread waste and mismanagement of a construction bond program that resulted in the fleecing of local taxpayers, many of them from working or middle class backgrounds.

When I called on candidates for the MUSD school board in this election to take no contributions from outside interest groups that could directly benefit from their votes so that there would be no question that the interests of taxpayers, students and staff come first, one of the groups that benefited directly from the project labor agreement still found a way to try to influence our elections: by spending over $4,000 through an independent PAC expenditure on a mailer for one of the board members (my opponent) who had offered them blanket support, never mentioning in the mailer their motivation:

It is time to elect school board members who will stand with -- and not behind -- our students who are demanding action on the issue of gun violence and school safety. It is time to elect school board members who will do more than pay lip service to the big issues facing our children and will roll up their sleeves and tackle these issues head on with innovative programs and initiatives. It is time to elect school board members who are humble and committed enough to spend as much time acknowledging and trying to solve their district's shortcomings and failures as they are in trumpeting its accomplishments. And it is time to elect school board members who are NOT beholden to local interest groups that stand to benefit directly from their votes, regardless of what it means for our district and the people it directly serves. 

In short, it is time for change to start coming from the bottom up. As we should all know by now, waiting for Washington or Sacramento to solve our problems is a losing strategy. 

What if Robert Kennedy had lived 50 years ago?

As a lifelong history buff, I've always been most intrigued by the "what if" questions. How would one change of fate at key moments in the history of our nation have forever changed its course, and our lives as a result?

What if Sherman hadn't captured Atlanta on the eve of the 1864 presidential election, saving Lincoln's bid for a second term? What if Lincoln had survived his trip to Ford's Theater, saving us from the nightmare presidency of Andrew Johnson? (if you think Trump is incompetent, unhinged and racist, read up on Johnson).

What if the U.S. Navy had been prepared for the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and delivered Japan a crushing blow? What if Roosevelt had lived to serve out his fourth term, and John F. Kennedy had lived to serve a second?

But the "what if" question I've always found most intriguing surrounds the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy 50 years ago today (he was shot on June 5 and died on June 6). With all the other "what ifs," it's easy to speculate what might have happened in the immediate aftermath, and how the arc of history would have changed at least in the short term (Lincoln sees through Reconstruction; JFK sails to a second term). With RFK, the possible outcomes are almost too numerous to count, and nearly impossible to discern. It's entirely possible that his assassination had little, if any, effect on the history of the past 50 years. It's also entirely possible that its impact on our political system, and society as a whole, is still being felt and reckoned with.

When he gave his victory speech in Los Angeles upon winning the California Democratic primary and embarked upon that fateful walk through the Ambassador Hotel, no one knew what the future held for RFK, or the nation, in the days and months ahead. It is entirely possible that he nevertheless would have been denied the Democratic presidential nomination at the party's convention later that summer, that Richard Nixon still would have been elected president later that fall, and, like his brother Ted, RFK would have receded to a long career in the U.S. Senate.

There's much to be said for that argument. Incumbent President Lyndon Johnson, whose disdain for RFK was mutual, clearly favored his vice president, Hubert Humphrey, for the nomination, along with the party establishment. While his strong showing in the primaries certainly would have given RFK momentum heading into Chicago, it's far from certain he would have been able to overcome the structural hurdles to the nomination that stood in his way. After all, his main rival in the Democratic primaries that year, and the man whose primary challenge to Johnson first shook up the race, Sen. Eugene McCarthy, saw his anti-Vietnam War campaign for the nomination fizzle at the convention.

But what if it had all gone differently? The history of the last 50 years, and our perception about politics and each other, might be profoundly different today.

There's maybe an even stronger argument to be made that, had he lived, RFK would have triumphed in Chicago and in the presidential election that year. The means the Vietnam War likely would have ended years earlier; the United States may have come to terms with race relations and immigration in a way that still hasn't happened; and there never would have been Watergate, with all the cynicism toward politics and politicians that accompanied it.

Here's how it all could have played out and how our nation and world could have been so much different today:

• RFK would have arrived in Chicago promising to recapture the Kennedy magic that had disappeared from the Democratic Party with his brother's murder five years earlier. The contrast between the fresh, inspiring message of the martyred president's brother and the hand-picked choice of JFK's unpopular successor would have been too much for the delegates to resist. After a fierce battle on the convention floor, RFK would have wrested the nomination from Humphrey.
• RFK's presence likely would have prevented much, maybe all, of the violence that overtook the city streets during the convention when Chicago police viciously assaulted anti-war protesters. He would have provided the same calming influence that he had while speaking in Indiana the night of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s assassination, and one of the uglier episodes of an ugly year in America likely would never have occurred.
• Unlike Humphrey, RFK's nomination would have presented a clear contrast with Richard Nixon in the presidential election. While Nixon ran as the "law and order" candidate, Kennedy would have run as the candidate promising to end the Vietnam War, continue the war on poverty, stand up for oppressed farm workers, battle for liberal ideals, and lead the long-overdue reckoning with race relations in the country.
• RFK would have exploited Nixon's many flaws in a way Humphrey never could. Saddled with a disastrous convention and LBJ's baggage, Humphrey was given almost no chance to beat Nixon as the presidential race heated up that year. But what looked like a sure landslide turned into a razor-close race as Humphrey improbably ate into Nixon's lead in the weeks before the election, and nearly pulled off a historic upset. RFK would have had none of Humphrey's baggage and an ability to energize the electorate in a way Humphrey was simply incapable of. It remains one of the ironies of history that 1968, a year of profound change and upheaval in the country, led to the election of a man who had been a political has-been only a year or two earlier. With hindsight, it's hard to see how Nixon could have prevailed against RFK.
• The greatest "what-if" remains what a Robert Kennedy presidency would have rendered. He almost certainly would have moved to end the Vietnam War much quicker than Nixon and restore the United States' prestige in the world. There certainly never would have been a Watergate scandal, with all the distrust of politics and politicians that followed, but that doesn't mean RFK wouldn't have been tripped up by scandals and missteps of his own. And would he have followed Nixon's detente policy with the Soviet Union and opening with China, or even gone further?

Of all the "what if" questions here, the most intriguing for me is whether RFK would have moved aggressively to confront our social demons around race, immigration and poverty, or would he have taken the more cautious, pragmatic route of his brother once in office? Would he have been a liberal lion in the White House, in the way his would brother would become in the Senate in the decades that followed, and used his majorities in Congress to push through bold new social legislation? And if he had moved aggressively, would it have sparked a backlash among Nixon's great "silent majority" that would have doomed his presidency as moving too far, too fast, perhaps setting up an epic battle with Ronald Reagan in 1972?

Or would his lofty rhetoric and soaring ideals have restored faith in the presidency after the stain of Vietnam and helped bring forth, in the words of Lincoln a century earlier, "the better angels of our nature" as the nation emerged from the turbulent 1960s. RFK's ability to inspire through words would have rivaled Barack Obama, and his innate political skill, experience and boldness might have better equipped him to execute his vision.

The idealist in me likes to think RFK would have indeed summoned those angels capable of trumping the cynicism, bitterness, distrust and division that would continue to grow and fester over the next half century, culminating with Donald Trump.

But the realist says that would have been too daunting a task for any president, even a Kennedy.

Remembering the friend I lost to gun violence 30 years ago

This weekend, I joined thousands of people across the Bay Area and the nation in wearing orange to remember the lives lost to gun violence and the families that bear that grief of loved ones forever gone. For the first time in my life, I walked across the Golden Gate Bridge (a sad fact considering I'm a lifelong Bay Area resident), as part of the annual bridge march marking Gun Violence Awareness Day.

My inspiration for immersing myself in the movement to combat gun violence in recent months largely stems from the example of the Parkland, Florida, students in the wake of the mass shooting at their school, and my disgust at seeing so many lives destroyed by this epidemic and so many children who now live in fear because of it. As a parent, I'm continually haunted by what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary School to 20 first-graders in 2012, and the grief their families -- and so many others since -- must live with each day of their lives.

But as I walked across the world's most famous bridge on Saturday and took in one of the most beautiful vistas on earth, my mind turned squarely to the classmate and friend I lost to gun violence in 1989.

The Pinole Valley High School Class of '89 will always be haunted by the tragedy that took Danton Dibble from us near the end of our senior year. He was one of the most popular, easy-going and personable members of our class, and the last person you would have thought might fall victim to a fatal bullet.

The details of what happened are a bit foggy all these years later. What I do recall is that Danton died because he was simply at the wrong place and the wrong time when he encountered a drunk teen who had gotten his hands on a rifle that he should never have had access to. Danton and some of his friends were hanging out one evening in a nearby regional park when the student with the rifle came across them and began indiscrimately firing shots into the air. One bullet struck Danton in the head. Despite the heroic efforts of his friends to rush him to the hospital, he died.

Danton and I weren't close friends. I was naturally shy and a loner who never fully conquered my social phobias as a teenager (in case my fellow classmates wonder why they rarely if ever saw me at parties or dances, now you know). But I was fortunate enough to get to know many students casually through my involvement on the school newspaper and speech and debate teams, and Danton was among them. I recall us taking typing class together our senior year (yes, they once taught typing in high school with actual typewriters). He was a natural jokester who always seemed to have a sly remark on the tip of his tongue for any occasion and always seemed to have a smile on his face. I recall that when we came across one another in the quad during lunch, we would stop and chat for a few moments. Like most of the classmates I knew in high school, Danton was much more popular than I, and had many more opportunities for social interaction, so the fact he took an interest in me always meant a lot. I recall that, like me, he had deeper interests in politics and the larger world, even at our young ages, and our discussions would sometimes turn to the weighty issues of the day (I regret to say that back in those days, I was a George H.W. Bush Republican).

During my senior year, I was fortunate to land a part-time gig as a sports "stringer" for my local newspaper. I was writing up a basketball game story in the newsroom the night my editor asked me if I knew of a Danton Dibble and told me what had happened. All I remember feeling at that moment and in the days that followed was a numbness. It was hard to come to grips with the emotions of losing a fellow student, a teenager who, like me, had his entire life ahead of him. And so, I didn't try. I left the grief and emotional reckoning to those who knew him better than I did. I stoically wrote the story for the school newspaper, took part in some brief conversations with classmates and teachers, tried to offer what little consolation I could to his twin sister (another popular member of our class) and then rarely said another word about it. I retreated back into my emotional and social cocoon.

A few months later, I graduated along with the rest of the Class of '89 and we went our separate ways. I lost touch with nearly everyone I went to high school with until the power of Facebook brought many of us back together decades later. In the years that followed, Danton's memory would sometimes enter my thoughts, and I would think about where his life might have taken him. And I would sometimes glance at the page in our school yearbook that paid tribute to him. It included the following quote attributed to him that seemed to perfectly capture my relationship with him and the mutual affection we felt:
"To all those who paths I've crossed but never followed...I still love you."

We will always love you too, Danton. And we will never forget you or the thousands of others lost to gun violence.

Why I hated everything about "Solo" (except Donald Glover)

There's been a disturbance in the force that binds me with my fellow Star Wars nerds recently. It has to do with our differing opinions over the latest Star Wars flick, "Solo." While many seem to have found it at least mildly entertaining, or even downright good, I rank it as one of the worst movies in the history of the franchise, dare I say maybe even worse than the dreaded prequels.

To avoid the risk of an argument on the order of one of those nasty, no-holds-barred smackdowns between Han and Princess Leia, I feel a need to explain in some detail (hopefully not too much) why I disliked this movie so very much.

So here it goes. Every reason I hated "Solo" with a passion (except for the Donald Glover-as-Lando scenes).

This was not the Han Solo I was looking for

OK, we all knew going in this would be a monumental challenge: How a person who didn't resemble in any way the Harrison Ford character we all remembered and loved could pull this off. For me, Alden Ehrenreich's performance crashed and burned in ways that went far deeper than looks. Nothing about his portrayal in this movie called to mind for me the depth, contradictions and complexities of Harrison Ford's Solo. 

Or to put it more simply, there was simply no swagger. Swagger, more than any other noun I can think of, defined the real Han Solo. And within that swagger lay the cynicism, bravery, self-centeredness, wit and, ultimately, heart that made Solo unforgettably endearing. Ehrenreich's Solo seems to spend the movie trying to convince us he's a tough guy. Ford's Solo didn't need to do any convincing; for one thing, he didn't care what you thought to begin with. 

The movie tries to give us glimpses of all the qualities that defined the real Han Solo, but it's always forced and superficial. Yeah, Ehrenreich's Solo is cocky, but not in the aloof, self-assured, sardonic way Harrison Ford was. He looks out only for himself, except when he's puppy-dog love sick for his old girlfriend back on Corellia. He has a knack for getting himself in and out of jams, but not with the comical farce and unflappable charm that always seemed to accompany's Ford's adventures (or misadventures). 

Worse of all, Ehrenreich's Solo conveys an innocence and a naivete that reminded me much more of Luke Skywalker from the original films than the original Han. It was actually Donald Glover's Lando who brought the swagger and charm to this movie that made me think of the Han Solo I so loved.

Where was the "wonderful girl"?

Let's face it, much of what made Harrison Ford's Han Solo so amusing and appealing was the interplay with the only woman in the galaxy able to fluster him at every turn. The beauty of Han and Leia's relationship, the way in which each character elevated the other throughout the series, could be summed up in Han's memorable line from the original film: "Wonderful girl! Either I'm going to kill her or I'm beginning to like her." 

A Han Solo love story simply doesn't work without the type of sexual tension and inherent conflict that defined his relationship with Leia. Nothing in Han Solo's life is simple or straightforward, least of all coming to terms with his feelings for a member of the opposite sex.

 Han's relationship with Qi'ra is simple and boring, much closer to the sappy Padme-Anakin romance than the Han-Leia fireworks. It follows a typical action-hero movie romance formula that never goes very far. He loves her, but then fate splits them up. All he wants to do is find her again, but when he does, things have changed. The movie never fully delves into how and why and what it all means. Because by that time we have to make it through the Kessel Run. 

I'm not saying the writers of "Solo" had to recreate a Leia-like relationship complete with "nerf-herder" and "Your Worship" barbs, but there needed to be more complexity and conflict in their relationship from the beginning (or maybe he should have just been left as a freewheeling bachelor). When the movie opens, these are basically just two kids going steady before interstellar fate sends them on different paths. The Han-and-Leia relationship always complemented and furthered the larger story; in this movie, the relationship is just window dressing to take up screen time between battle scenes. 

When it comes to Star Wars plots, keep it simple! 

In my opinion, there's a basic choice when writing a Star Wars movie script: Keep the plot lines simple and go deep with character development, or get lost in the weeds with the plot and make the characters superficial. The movies work best when they stick to the simple plot-deep character formula (as in the original trilogy and Episodes VII and VIII) and fall apart when they go the other way, as in the dreaded prequels and "Solo." 

This movie simply gets lost in the convoluted "Crimson Dawn" crime syndicate story line. I never connected with any of the characters, in part because I was too busy trying to keep straight who was who. When you have to spend all your time connecting the dots on the plot, there's no time to flesh out the characters, who have always been at the heart of the Star Wars movies. That was the disaster of the prequels when we were constantly trying to figure out what was happening with trade federations, clone armies and intergalactic tax law. 

Star Wars is not an action movie series; it's a mythology series

This may be the most basic reason the movie disappointed me so greatly. It comes down to expectations, and what I expect from these movies may be fundamentally different from what others expect. 

At its heart, Star Wars is a mythology, and the movies work only as well as the mythological elements they capture in their characters. To one extent or another, the movies are all a takeoff of the classic "Hero's Journey" motif that goes back to Greek mythology and Biblical stories. Their allure, for me at least, is not so much in their space battles, but rather the inner, spiritual battles they bring out in their characters. In that sense, Star Wars has always been much closer to the Lord of the Rings series than Star Trek or the Marvel superhero movies, none of which have ever held much appeal to me beyond being popcorn movies that you can enjoy much more at age 17 than at 47. 

"Solo" struck me more as a "Captain America" or "Thor" type spin-off than a real Star Wars movie that plumbs the depths of the mystical forces and struggles at play in that galaxy far, far away. Perhaps that was too much to expect in a spin-off movie about a loner and rogue who didn't believe in "hokey" religions to begin with. But the previous Star Wars spin-off, "Rogue One," pulled it off brilliantly. 

Finally, I always saw Han Solo as Star Wars' version of Casablanca's Rick Blaine, the reluctant hero always trying to convince himself of things he didn't really believe. In Casablanca (which I watched again last week), we see the arc of Rick's of journey from cynicism and self-pity to sacrifice, and finally idealism. But, as was the case with Han in the original Star Wars movies, we never got to fully see what made Rick tick to begin with. My guess is that a Casablanca prequel would have explored Rick's early flirtation with idealism and the inner turmoil that ultimately led him to become the disgruntled, cynical loner we find in the classic movie. "Solo" could have aimed for the same.

But by the time Han makes the fateful decision to pick self-interest over idealism at the end of "Solo," I really have no idea why he chooses that path, other than the fact he lost his girlfriend. At least when Rick loses his girl, you can feel his anguish in the pained expression on his face and his slurred mutterances while nursing a bottle of booze. Han just seems to move on.

Instead of telling us what made our favorite space pirate tick, the movie took the easy way out: Telling us how he made the Kessel Run in under 12 parsecs. I would have preferred to peer into his soul instead.

Coming face to face with the homeless in our community

Each year, my parish takes part in a wonderful program in Contra Costa County that houses homeless families at local churches. For two weeks, families pitch tents in our church gymnasium, where they spend their nights. Members of the church community take turns preparing meals and offering spiritual and material sustenance. At the end of the two weeks, the families pack up their tents and sleeping bags and move on to another local church. The program starts in October and often runs until the summer.

I took part in the program at Christ the King in Pleasant Hill this year, hauling 15 enchiladas that my wife baked to the final night of the families' stay, where I and others shared with them a Mexican-themed meal (there were no shortage of people going for seconds). I had the privilege of helping to serve the families and children, who despite their poor circumstances, smiled broadly and expressed a degree of gratitude that I found touching.

As rewarding as the experience was, it was also troubling, and difficult, to see so many children without a permanent place to call home. This just wasn't right. Every child in our country should lay down to sleep at night in a warm bed, not in sleeping bags in church gym, or worse. As the richest society in the world, we can and must do better than this.

 As I talked to the program director while eating dinner, I saw a portrait of the homeless in our community that flew in the face of preconceptions I've often had over the years. In many cases, these are hard-working parents who either have jobs or want them, and yet they simply don't have the resources to put a roof over their head. While it's easy to associate the homeless with mental illness or substance abuse, many are simply victims of the cruel lack of affordable housing in the Bay Area. It's not uncommon, the program director told me, for two parents to have jobs but be relegated to living out of their cars because their incomes simply can't pay for the sky-high rents in the area. These are people who work hard, play by the rules, and yet are left to live on our streets because of one bad break, or a lack of a safety net when they lose their home to no fault of their own.

As we talked, I couldn't help but become angry thinking about how easily this problem could be solved if only we committed to building sufficient affordable housing in our communities. But as I learned in my years as a journalist, "affordable housing" is an ugly term for many local leaders and residents who associate it with crime, blight and lowered property values. The fight for affordable housing appears to be no match for the power of NIMBYism and self-interest.

It's a shame that those who so vigorously fight any attempt to bring affordable or low-income housing into their communities don't see first-hand the results of their actions: families living in cars, or in tents in church gymnasiums. I wonder if they experienced what I experienced during the Winter Nights program, might they have a change of heart?

Maybe, maybe not. As I've seen with so many social issues lately, people tend to form their facts around what they already believe, rather than the other way around. And the sad truth is that in so many arenas, from gun violence to immigration to climate change, ideology has trumped compassion and pragmatism.

Then again, there's no better way to instigate action than to put a human face on a problem. And if the reality of children sleeping in tents because we're afraid that creating more housing will inconvenience our quality of life isn't enough to wake people up, I'm not sure what will.

Twenty years after Columbine, we all need to look in the mirror

“It is a time to act in the Congress, in your State and local legislative body and, above all, in all of our daily lives. ... Those who do nothing are inviting shame, as well as violence. Those who act boldly are recognizing right, as well as reality.”

In 1963, President John F. Kennedy went on national television to implore every American to act to finally end the scourge of racial discrimination and segregation that infected American society. The words he spoke then echo just as loudly today and speak just as forcefully to the scourge of gun violence that has been allowed to grow into a national stain and take countless lives.

And those words also provide cause for some soul-searching by all of us on this day marking the 20th anniversary of the Columbine massacre that ushered in the "mass shooting" era and generation.

Kennedy's words 56 years ago weren't just a belated call to action for political leaders in Washington, D.C. and in Southern capitols. It was a call to action for every American -- including implicitly himself -- who had long looked the other way to the evils of racial discrimination and segregation. The reference in his speech to "above all, in all our daily lives" made clear that it was foremost the responsibility of every American to combat this epidemic and be part of the change. His admonition that "those who do nothing are inviting shame, as well as violence" was a powerful statement that inaction amounted to complicity in this evil that steadily ate away at the fabric of the nation.

It was a call to action he reinforced later in the speech when he said the problem of racial discrimination "must be solved in the homes of every American in every community across our country." Today, the same can and should be said about the problem of gun violence and, indeed, all forms of emotional and physical violence that impact our youth and other vulnerable members of society.

When the Columbine massacre occurred, it shook the nation to its core because it represented an unprecedented escalation of mass violence into the halls of our schools. Nearly two decades later, these mass shootings are met with brief bursts of outrage (as well as "thoughts and prayers") but little shock, because we've all become accustomed to them, and to even expect them.

For those of who remember Columbine, it's hard to fathom how and why such a horrific event ever could have become routine in our society. What if, as a nation, we all had said "Enough!" and "Never Again!" on April 20, 1999, in the same way that the students of Parkland, Florida, and throughout the country, are doing today? What if instead of simply pinning the blame on the NRA, mental illness, bullying, poor parenting, a violent culture or do-nothing politicians in Washington, we had all engaged in actions in our daily lives to confront the gun culture, pass common-sense legislation, provide better security and mental health counseling services for our schools, and created a more nurturing, caring society?

Would the results have been similar to what happened in Australia after a 1996 mass shooting there that killed 35. That country took bold action, and it has had NOT ONE mass shooting since. In the United States, on the other hand, 226,000 students have experienced gun violence at school in the 20 years since Columbine, according to data compiled by the Washington Post.

This country chose to do mostly nothing, or even worse, we made it even easier for our children to be slaughtered on the streets and in movie theaters and schools. We allowed the national assault-rifle ban (a ban that data show conclusively decreased mass slaughters in the country) to expire. We allowed the NRA to gain even more influence over our politicians and our society, and to pass scores of laws that made it even easier for dangerous people to get their hands on weapons of mass violence. And following the outrage that accompanied each mass shooting, we went back as quickly as possible to business as usual.

I recall a Facebook post after Donald Trump's inauguration urging people to join "the resistance" by donating to advocacy groups fighting his dangerous agenda, whether it was pro-choice, environmental or immigrant-rights groups. Amid the flurry of organizations people suggested, I saw not one that advocated for common-sense gun safety laws. How quickly we forget the latest massacre.

Many of us, including myself, are inspired by the brave leadership teenagers throughout this country are now showing in confronting this epidemic head-on. It's tempting to wonder how history might have changed had the survivors of Columbine done the same 20 years ago, but that would be grossly unfair. They were kids who had experienced a form of grief and trauma most of us could only imagine. It wasn't their job to lead a social and political movement; they had every reason to believe we adults would do that.

We failed them. And as we look back on what happened 20 years ago, we should not only feel grief for the lives lost that day -- we should feel shame for our role in allowing this epidemic to grow and fester to this day.