“Lesson in Liberty”

c. 2008 Rod Ice
All Rights Reserved
(3-07)




It was late in the Icehouse home office. The rest of our family had long since surrendered to blissful slumber. But with the help of a last pot of coffee, I eluded the grasp of fatigue.

Alone in the night - this would be my most creative hour.

I was in the midst of reviewing the political season - speaking with reverence about our national ideals and habits, while spotlighting the unruly weather that seemed to test our citizen resolve:

“Mother Nature seemed determined to set a serious tone for Primary Day in Ohio. Freezing rain made the local landscape slick and difficult to navigate.
With a boisterous campaign being waged for the Democratic Party presidential nomination, her tilt toward meteorological bluster and bombast was unnecessary. Voter turnout set records across the state. In Geauga, debate over potential candidates and local issues was spirited. No one needed a reminder of the powerful forces being summoned at ballot boxes in our region.

Still, the atmospheric tantrum served to highlight an important point about American politics: On Election Day, anything can happen!”

From controversy over livestock at the Geauga County Fair, to wonder about the local effect of current issues, it was a season of excitement. Wrathful winter weather made the moment even more intense. I wanted to effectively capture that energy in print:

“The March 4th contest left this writer with a variety of different emotions after voting had concluded - a decidedly complex mix of thought-impressions. I was struck by a need to opine on the importance of this greatest of citizen duties. But expressing these spur-of-the-moment impressions in honest prose required more than simple concentration. I had to seek shelter from an ice storm before reflective thoughts would appear.”

Eventually, I settled on a short list of points to ponder about the day. They offered a condensed assessment of voting as a ritual cherished by free people around the globe:

ONE: Local volunteers make the miracle possible

At the polls, I saw neighbors, friends, and even a local pastor’s wife exercising their patriotic duty as defenders of democracy. Such cooperation is a visible sign of healthy principles at work.

TWO: The right to choose is sacred

We often interpret the routine of voting as a tiresome habit from yonder days. Yet only military service or action as a community volunteer can equal its importance.

THREE: Voting happens only because of sacrifice

The free election of representatives may seem to be mundane to many Americans. But in fact, it is a right won through dedication, faith, and bloodshed. To be ignorant of that history is a tragic mistake. By shunning the ballot box, we may allow unfriendly forces to decide our fate.

FOUR: Words without deeds carry no meaning

Brave words are not enough to sustain the existence of democracy. Citizen action is needed to keep this way of living from being extinguished by apathy. Maintaining our liberty is an ongoing process. So long as we believe, it will never die.


FIVE: Liberty is the root of human progress

In America, we have achieved so much because of our grand experiment in individual freedom. Success and opportunity are inseparable. One can’t enjoy positive results without the latitude to make them happen. Oppressive governments quash the human spirit and hush ideas for improvement. Democracy is a natural partner to innovation.

The column was almost complete when our telephone rang with rude indifference to my task. I nearly jumped out of the chair!

“Hello?” I wheezed.

“Hey, Rod,” a familiar voice intoned. “I knew you’d still be awake!”

It was P. C. Tompkins, an erstwhile friend from central New York.

My surprise was evident. “I haven’t heard from you in months, Tommy. How are things back there?”

He paused in reflection. “Great! But… crazy. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“So, any good hits on eBay, lately?” he said, quizzically.

I grinned with embarrassment. “Yeah, a few. Discs by the Japanese punk rock band ‘Guitar Wolf.’ Three different releases, all in the span of a week.”

He was impressed. “Wow! So, what did your wife think of those?”

My eyes narrowed in reflection. “Liz shuddered when I played a few tracks from ‘Missile Me.’ Their raucous sound sent her running for an emergency dose of cowboy tunes from Toby Keith!”

Tompkins chuckled. “Oh well, load them on your MP3 player.”

I changed the subject. “So… it’s great to hear from an old friend. But what really made you pick up the phone tonight?”

He turned serious. “Okay, I’ll confess. It’s all the media chatter about Governor Spitzer and the prostitution ring. I’m still reeling from that…”

“Yes,” I said. “The story is everywhere. Even here in Ohio. Thankfully, our governor isn’t likely to make such headlines.”

My friend was in obvious pain. “I passed out leaflets for Spitzer, across the county. He was a zealot. I respected him. And now…”

“Now you feel betrayed.” I said.

“Well, yes!” he shouted. “Wouldn’t you?”

My response came in a whisper. “As one of my newspaper bosses used to say – the players change, but the game goes on.”

Tompkins was flabbergasted. “Right, Mr. Wordsmith. That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Look, Tommy,” I began. “If you put your faith in political leaders, that’s a wager that often yields disappointment. I prefer to put my faith in the people. That seems to have been the viewpoint of our founders.”

He went silent.

“Humanity is often given to arrogance,” I continued. “We like to bask in the glow of our feigned superiority. But we are frail creatures, in body, mind, and spirit. We are prone to fall short of glory. Especially when affectations of righteousness have clouded our judgement.”

“I get your point. It’s just that I never expected such carelessness from Governor Spitzer,” he replied. “He was a lawgiver! A crusader for the masses!”

“It is better to be humble before the creator,” I said.

He grew agitated. “Give it a rest! This isn’t time for Sunday School!”

“Conceit and pride fill the belly with emptiness,” I said. “Eventually, a soul can starve from within by living on such things.”

Tompkins growled. “The bottom line is he broke our trust.”

I took a deep breath. “Yes. But not our faith. Not our endurance. Not our hope.”

A moment of nothingness passed. Finally, he agreed.
“Not our hope…”

I finished my column after our conversation had ended, just past midnight:

“Results at the ballot box may vary from year to year. The American electorate has a predictable tendency to change its mind over and over again. But the liberty to vote remains undiminished. It is our sacred right to be heard – and, our duty to speak.”

Comments about Thoughts At Large may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com
Visit us at: www.thoughtsatlarge.com