Auchtoon!

Hoping to share in a more transparent and ethical Michigan with you all in 2023!

I don’t like Led Zeppelin. Who knows exactly why? I mean, the first obvious reason would be the music — for whatever reason, their music simply does not fall into my “like” zone. This is hardly a defensible position. There is lots of music I do like that would, by all sorts of standards, not match up with Led Zeppelin’s music. But that’s just how arbitrary musical preferences can be. You might say I was born this way.

The more likely reason, however, is that I have been told repeatedly that I should like it. I went through my Beatles phase. I went next to discovering The Who, The Kinks, and other British bands. So a natural progression for a white, middle-class suburban boy 40 years ago was to like Led Zeppelin. In fact, it was aggressively encouraged by my peers. So I obstinately refused to do it.

All that to say, I have some appreciation for those who are inclined to resist when it feels like they’re being pushed into acceptance. And I’m sure President Biden recently signing into law the Respect for Marriage Act triggered some of those feelings. But my willingness to commiserate further depends on how somebody acts on those feelings.

For me, I’m perfectly capable and willing to live harmoniously in a world where other people like Led Zeppelin and I don’t.

You kind of need to know who Lee Chatfield is to understand the cartoon, so I apologize if you don’t. And now, I will apologize in advance for telling you (because you were probably much happier not knowing).

Mr. Chatfield is a former member of the Michigan House of Representatives and the Speaker from 2019 to 2021. He was a stalwart Republican leader known for his strict Christian education and standards. However, since being term-limited out, Mr. Chatfield has come under scrutiny on multiple fronts. The latest, which was brought to light this week, centers on allegations that he provided favorable treatment to a prominent Lansing lobbying firm’s clients while Speaker.

That’s not good. But not nearly as icky as allegations that he sexually abused a girl for 12 years, beginning in 2009 when she was between 14 and 15 years old and continuing until 2021. When she was 18 she married Aaron Chatfield, Lee’s brother. Mr. Chatfield has admitted having an affair with his sister-in-law and with other women (Mr. Chatfield is married and has five children), but said that these affairs were between consenting adults.

I’ll pause here while you either roll, rub, or gouge out your eyes.

Is it any wonder that the superior morality of the Republican Party and the supposed protection they would provide us in the culture wars was such a tough sell to independents (especially women) in this past election?

On the way to Thanksgiving festivities last week near Flushing, my wife and I drove past a series of solar farms on M-13 — big fields with rows and rows of solar panels that track the sun across the sky to convert light to power. They’re relatively new so they still catch my attention.

What also catches attention are the nearby houses with “No Solar Farms” signs planted in their front yards. I can’t quite tell if the intention is to get rid of the now existing solar farms or prevent more from coming. But there are less signs than there were this summer, so I don’t think they’re winning.

I don’t blame the folks who have the signs. If I lived across the street, especially if I had lived there a number of years, I might not be happy with the development, either. And yet, as far as energy production facilities go, it could be much worse — the filth and noise of an oil refinery, the potential disaster of a nuclear plant, even the sightline dominance of a modern windmill. Heck, not too long ago, nearly every town had local gasworks that converted coal to flammable gas for lights and heat, and I’m told you did not want to live next door to the smell of that.

But in the end, the energy has to come from some place. And solar and wind are at least equitable in that the energy is generated and consumed in the same basic area. Still, people naturally do not want to be on the frontline.

This of course isn’t just a Michigan problem — it’s a global problem. Especially as we try to transition away from fossil fuels and, you know, try to save the planet.

The upcoming lame duck session of the Michigan legislature presents a rare opportunity for real bipartisanship. The re-elected Governor Whitmer and the outgoing Republican legislative leadership have hinted around at some possibilities. Two items of note — the desperate need to shore up Michigan’s mental health treatment capabilities and various tax cuts.

It is, of course, possible to move on both. Not probable, though. It is easy to blame those gal-durn politicians for this. But let’s face it, we, the citizens of Michigan, have to own it, too. Because there is only so much money. And when it gets down to likely having to choose, we will almost certainly opt for the one that is easier to understand.

Tax cuts mean money coming back to us. (This is not always true, but in concept that’s what happens.)

Reimagining and shoring up our mental health care system is much more abstract. What do you mean by mental health care? What does it look like? Who are the trained professionals? How can we ensure access? Do you have to be already sick to qualify? What if they don’t look sick to me? How much will it cost? And so on. Worse, this isn’t just a Michigan problem to solve — it’s a national one.

In any case, there does seem to be a consensus that mental illness is a core problem to our country’s ongoing epidemic of mass shootings. The easy accessibility of military murder machines certainly augments the danger, but it is obviously an unstable mind that commits such atrocities. The question is: What are we willing to do about it? So far, not nearly enough.

I am sure you’re all at least somewhat aware of the latest antics of the super-rich sideshow known as Elon Musk. As with all billionaire man-children (even the ones who are not in fact billionaires but overleveraged former presidents), I find it healthier to keep a distance — an awareness of the shenanigans without the details of the skulduggery.

Having grown up in Flint, I’m well aware of the consequences of very wealthy “captains of industry” making disastrous decisions. In the 1980s, the American automotive manufacturers were still in a very advantageous position. But they kind of pissed away a lot of it with, among other things, buying aerospace companies and slagging their workers instead of, you know, building better cars.

It struck me that Elon Musk is something of a modern-day version of that — all the stupidity and chuzpah but with exponentially more self-promotion. What a waste of resources. But I think you should know that I did show some restraint. I didn’t mention anything about his cars catching fire. (Of course that would have been more of a 1970s American automobile manufacturer thing.)

There’s an old maxim (or perhaps I just made it up): Never let updated information get in the way of a good idea for a cartoon (especially if you’ve already drawn the cartoon). Heading into the election, polls and general consensus had inflation as the number one issue among Michigan voters. But afterward, apparently that wasn’t entirely the case. As reported by MLive:

“Bernie Porn of EPIC/MRA, another pollster, said he found that while Michiganders cited inflation as their top issue of concern, at 28%, it was abortion that drove them to the polls, with 43% citing that as their top issue in the election itself.”

Okay, so although this news may render today’s cartoon not 100% accurate, I stand by the point: Among the mistakes Michigan Republicans made in these midterms, invoking inflation without having an actionable plan was a big one. They seemed to have depended on voters just thinking that “Republican” was synonymous with “fiscal responsibility.” Maybe that was true 40, 50 years ago, but it’s certainly not today. And so not actually having a plan to fight inflation turned out to be problematic.

As we head into the final stretch of this election season, it can feel overwhelming. We’ve been deluged with deviously crafted ads, catchy slogans, and endless appeals for our vote (and our money). We’ve been bludgeoned with reports, speeches, commentary, and analysis. Things can feel like they’re really messed up.

So now I think it is a good time to pause for a moment, take some deep breaths, and clear your mind… so you can realize that, yes, in fact, things are messed up.

Well, not all things. But some. For instance, the fact that there are so many candidates who are straight up election deniers, including the Republican candidates for state attorney general and secretary of state. You’d think that accepting the truth or at least not promulgating lies would be a qualifier for running for those offices. Apparently not. That is objectively messed up (under any circumstance).

Almost six years ago, I drew a cartoon about Betsy DeVos being nominated as the Secretary of Education for the Trump administration. This cartoon is very different from that cartoon, but as far as my comments go, I pretty much have the same thing to say — like DeVos, many of the folks running for school boards this fall are cranks:

A crank (for lack of a better term, let me know if there is one) is a person caught up in her own thoughts, plans, and ideology — dogmatically indifferent to the consequences. It’s been my experience that nearly every organization has one — work group, school board, sports team, professional society, whatever.

And for the most part, it’s good to have a crank.

They provide a vital service: They keep everybody else honest.

Nobody wants to set the crank off, so we tend to plan more carefully.

For example, say you’re the chair of a church committee to raise funds for a mission trip. There is consensus for a pancake breakfast, but there is a crank on the finance team who believes with all her heart that using food for fundraising is a grave sin. If indeed you want to move forward, you will make sure to organize a solid and defensible plan.

But the last thing you want is for the crank to be in charge.

Cranks by their nature are “my way or the highway” types, and likely with a chip on the shoulder from having been handled and circumvented so much in the past.

So, please, do your homework and vote accordingly.

I have for some time been trying to figure out a way to illustrate the unique circumstances of this year’s race for attorney general in Michigan between the current office holder, Democrat Dana Nessel, and Republican candidate, Matt DePerno.

A quick summary from Bridge Michigan:

“DePerno is one of nine people who were investigated by Nessel’s office for an alleged Michigan vote tabulator tampering scheme. Nessel’s office began its investigation in February, before DePerno was her opponent. Because of the conflict of interest of investigating him, Nessel sought the appointment of a special prosecutor to decide if charges are warranted.”

You don’t see that kind of thing every election year. But who could have predicted that the Republican Party would nominate somebody actively breaking well-established laws to be the top enforcer of laws for our state? Oh, yeah, right… Unprecedented has sort of become the new precedented, huh?

Anyway, I believe this week’s cartoon stands on its own. But for those of you old enough to remember the annual advertising blitz by Network TV to promote new fall lineups, it may resonate a little more. Also, am I the only one who gets a Dr. Strangelove vibe from Matt DePerno?