The Red and Blue Problem

A content creator I like popped up in my feed a few weeks ago confused by the repeated outcome of a particular experiment. I have since done a little digging, found several versions of this question, and was initially also confused since at first glance it seems like a no-brainer.

The situation is this: You are presented with two buttons, one red, the other blue. Everyone in the country is expected to push a button. If a majority select the blue button, everybody lives. If a majority push the red button, they live, but anyone who pushed the blue button dies. 

Apparently a majority of people presented with this question push red.

I was shocked when I heard that. Then I looked up and remembered what country I live in.

Because before I even heard the end of the question, and got as far as "everybody lives" I made my choice. Of course it has to be blue. Why would anyone choose anything other?

But then I realized since the outcome depends on others, you are really being asked to make a choice based on the amount of trust you have in people you don't know. Those people are also banking on what they think you will do. The only way to guarantee you will live is to choose red. 

When I posed this question to my oldest daughter, she did the same thing I did. Before she even heard the second option, she was already declaring blue. "Everybody lives" was all she needed to know. She couldn't believe the majority of the time people would select any option that kills people.

When I pointed out that red was the only way to personally survive, she stuck with blue, because living with the knowledge that you participated in the deaths of others wasn't worth it.

I knew this was what she would say before I ever asked her the question. That's who she is.

Which is why I knew my only answer would ever be blue, because to choose otherwise I would be electing to kill my daughter. I'd rather be dead than do that.

 

I would say this analogy is too on the nose—seeing as we recently had an election where millions of people literally chose red over blue, not caring about the lives of others—but these are days without subtlety. I haven't seen any fiction or satire that could compete with our current reality of callousness and the absurd. We might have excused people in the past for not being informed enough to do anything about government sanctioned injustices, but not today.

There are no excuses now except for willful ignorance, indifference or sadism.

I have steered away from a lot of news primarily because I'm no help to anyone if my blood pressure rises to the point of having a stroke. But listening to the president somehow blame Ukraine for the war they have been fighting for three straight years put me into a state of rage. The audacity to blame them for being invaded is a new low amongst unfathomable lows, only to be topped by trying to extort resources from that country like we are some kind of mob boss. It's disgusting.

This is literally "Oceania had been always been at war with Eastasia" nonsense. 

Lives are being destroyed pointlessly, thoughtlessly, as damage is being done purely out of greed and an insatiable desire for power.

Nobody wants financial waste, but what are we saving money for exactly? I want my taxes to go to our general safety and for science and for education and for parks. There are plenty of programs and services that are of great importance to other people that don't apply to me directly, but I would never deny someone things they need. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is supposed to apply to all of us.

I'm not confused by the repeated results of the red and blue button problem, but it's incredibly disheartening, and says a great deal about our country and how myopic people become in their own fears.

If you would push the red button, I'm sorry you don't care if I die. If you pushed the red button this last election, you don't get to wash the red off your hands if that choice erases my kid and other people I care about. Even ones I don't know.

2024 Round Up

The last few months have been a lot. A LOT. That's probably true for most of us. And I have many things I want to write about, but I have a need to quickly document some events that finished out 2024 before I forget them all. Join me on this belated end of year round up!

Let's begin with fact that I made a goal this fall that every time I went into our (annoyingly cluttered) garage I had to remove something from it, or at least investigate one of the many mysteries that have accumulated there. I have given away ice fishing poles, consolidated camping supplies, recycled boxes, and uncovered things like this that I have no explanation for:

The garage is looking better, and my goal for it in the spring is to find a way to hang/display our various kites on the walls so they aren't in a jumble and they can be decorative when they are not being used.

Inktober this year was not possible. I really love how in the past few years Quinn and I would meet at the dining room table most evenings and work on the day's prompt. But Quinn is in her senior year with too much to do, and I spent what felt like every waking moment in my shop on a deadline. I decided at the end of the month to do all the prompts in one drawing since many of them seemed to work together anyway.

Quinn turned 18 this year. All my children are technically adults now. It's weird. Whatever ideas I had for their childhoods, the time limit is up. I hope I did okay as their mom for that phase of their lives. I hope I do okay as the mom of adults.

When I asked Quinn when she turned 17 if there was anything she hadn't done yet as a "child," the only things she could think of were getting Mold-A-Ramas from the Oklahoma City Zoo, and going to Taco Bell. I figure the Mold-A-Rama quest extends beyond childhood anyway, and I'm chalking up the lack of Taco Bell as a parenting win. But just to round out the list, we went to Taco Bell on the night before her 18th birthday (she said it tasted like school food), and in the morning before I left town for a convention, I made her a crepe cake for breakfast with cream cheese frosting between the layers and chocolate ganache on top. I usually make my kids crepes in the shape of the their birthday numbers for breakfast, and a cake in the evening, so this seemed a good way to cross the two ideas.

I have nothing to report about Halloween this year. Sad. I may have to start dressing up the dog or becoming one of those people who does fancy house decorations.

There was the election. 

Really neighbors?

I spent the first week after it trying to order my mind by taking cubes out of the mosaic display and solving them. It was a good way to kind of feel like I was doing something that was sort of nothing when I didn't want to do anything. Eventually my mom and Mona and I put up a new design.

 

 

Both Ian and the dog help when I'm down. Domino's so sweet and in the moment. She's funny to have at work when she's not barking at passing dogs. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Quinn and I stumbled upon an image of me walking Domino near the store on Google Maps!

I finally put a decorative thing at the end of our banister. The space looks wired for a light, but not in a way we've every figured out how to use, so I finally just found something I could switch on at the base, and is merely a shiny ball when it's off. I like it. Not an important house project, but one I'm glad I finally did.

 

November was a whirlwind of luthier adventures. I had been working on two violins and a viola with the intention of putting the viola in the Violin Society of America (VSA) competition. That instrument was a commission, and I asked the player if it was okay to enter it, with the understanding that that would mean making decisions dictated by a particular timeline. He encouraged me to go for it, but the homestretch was exhausting. Mostly because getting oil varnish done in time was cutting it close. 

The first of those instruments to get finished was the Guarneri model violin. I am very pleased with how it came out and it is happily being played by its new owner. I only use my personal bridge stamp on instruments I've made, and I enjoyed getting to use it again.

Varnish in evening light

On top of already feeling rushed with the viola, about a week before the convention I accidentally set the it down on a polishing rag while I was working on the pegs, and the alcohol in it dissolved through a section of varnish on the back. I spent about a day and a half indulging in the fantasy that I could simply retouch it, but finally admitted the right thing to do was strip the back and do it again. What a nail-biter. But the finished color I think is beautiful, and I got useful feedback from the judges, and the player is happy, so it's all fine.

Nooooooo!

Having to strip the whole back was painful, but necessary.

Finding morning light on the porch

Michelic viola!

 

 

All labels and stamps must be covered for the competition

 

On the competition table

Competition stuff is always odd to explain to people. They always ask how I did, and short of an award (which at this level is not really a possibility yet) I don't know what to say. I go to learn things. Some of it is very useful, and some of it is too subjective. A lot of the things that appeal to me aren't often things judges like. The best way I can describe it is like the Westminster Dog Show. The judges there aren't that interested in if you have a really nice dog, they want the dog to fit a set of standards.

So, for instance, the judges didn't like this dark streak where the maple on my viola sucked in a lot of color. One referred to it as "burned." Some of that has to do with the fact that I had to strip the back and go faster to color than I would have normally. But honestly, that streak is one of my favorite parts of that back. I like it.

 

The convention overall was one of the best ever. I love getting to meet so many people in my field in person that I already feel I know. I love getting to room with my friend Robyn at these events. I love learning things, and laughing at luthier jokes, and generally feeling like I'm with my people. 

There were some great lectures and demonstrations.

 

There was trivia night, good stuff in the vendor room, and a tin-can-violin making competition which included googly eyes and a lunch box.

 

A highlight was playing on instruments in the New Instrument Exhibit as an orchestra. I got to sit with my friend Marilyn, Darol Anger was in the violin section and treated us to some amazing improv

Emanuel Hill, our fine conductor!

We were early. The full viola section was mighty!

There was even a red carpet glam night for the awards ceremony, and Robyn looked even fancier than usual.

Although, speaking of looking good, Robyn and I were both amused by the fact that in our bathroom there were two mirrors, and in one we always looked nice, and then if you turned and looked in the other one it was.... not good. It was disconcerting! Because I would get ready to go, feel confident looking in the mirror above the sink, and then have to not glance to my left because then I felt frumpy and bad. This was my view in the good mirror. (Not showing you the bad because the internet is forever.)

The convention was in Indianapolis this year, which is where one of my childhood friends lives who I haven't seen in way too long. I missed the whole first day of lectures because hanging out with Jennifer was more important. She's still the best, and even provided me with lip balm when I needed it most.

The week following the convention was Thanksgiving! We had a full house this year with all our kids home, my mom, and my brother Barrett and his family. It was wonderful. We wound up with many many many pies, cheese appetizers that looked like pie, and the orange jello was weirdly in between. Not goo, but only short lived as a shape.

cheddar, crackers, cream cheese.... cute!

Aden, to my great delight, managed to repair our broken pachinko machine that weekend. We even replaced the battery in the back so it lights up when you hit the jackpot.

Mona's bird visited for the day. I miss that loud silly bird.

Barrett signed copies of his book with beautiful drawings for different family members.

He also brought me a mysterious book he found in Germany full of music I can't decipher. If anyone understands these clefs let me know!

Aden also became very good with plants over the summer, and took some time to tend all kind of things in pots over Thanksgiving break. My mom is an accomplished gardener, so it's interesting to see that skip me and land on Aden.

I played some fun concerts at the end of 2024. Playing with Festival City Symphony is always nice, but the most unusual venue was with Milwaukee Mandolin Orchestra at our Waukesha concert, because we played on a stage set up for a performance of the musical Legally Blonde later that night. Unusually pink for a holiday concert!

 

 

Mona continues to make adorable things for her Etsy shop:

We managed to go through not one, but two cookie presses this year, and finally bought a third one that we're hoping will last through this year into next. We have so many little cookie press discs at this point I decided to get a little tree to hang all the spares on.

The kids this year mostly got cards from us that reminded them that we provide College! Housing! Healthcare! Hugs! Domino got a replacement purple monkey for the ravaged original purple monkey that came home with her from the shelter. She likes them both equally,

Old monkey

New monkey

On Christmas Day we drove to Detroit where my mom had an incredible dinner waiting for us. It was a chicken curry with a ton of different little condiments like plum chutney and avocado and bacon and nuts, etc. Each bite could be delicious in a different way. I can't imagine anyone ate better at Christmas than we did. I once asked my dad what his favorite food was, and he said, "Whatever your mother is making tonight." That's a good answer.

My mom also helped us make a zuccotto, which was a dessert recipe we pulled out of a Martha Stewart magazine more than a dozen years ago and never got up the nerve to try. We made it a whole day's project, with sponge cake pressed into a bowl and filled with whipped cream berries and a crushed Heath bar and the whole dome is covered with chocolate and there is a vanilla cream sauce on the side. That was really fun, and I actually think if I do it again I can do it much better. Maybe for my birthday.

New Year's was quiet enough that I don't remember what we did. Although I saw a video of a place not far from here that does an annual cheese drop at 10pm on New Year's Eve (why not midnight?) and I've decided next year we're doing that.

And I will leave you with this conundrum of signage that was recently added to my short commute.

This seems like a good metaphor for life right now, where we are supposed to somehow stop and never stop, step back but be involved, be appreciative and outraged and the same time, and somehow persist when so much feels hopeless. Welcome to 2025.

RIP Jimmy Carter

(I make a point to post once a month on this blog. So I started a post a couple of hours ago, but now I want to hang out with all three of my kids on New Year's Eve, because having them all together in our home at this point is an event that has become exceedingly rare.

So if I don't make it before midnight with the other post, enjoy this copy and paste from a Facebook post I wrote earlier today. That counts, right? It will have to.)

 

I'm sad about the passing of Jimmy Carter, although I feel like he was ready to go.

I had to explain to my kids over dinner the other night who he was. We talked about the concerns for the environment that he addressed, his selling his peanut farm to avoid any appearance of conflict of interest, and the failed attempt to rescue the hostages in Iran (even though Ian said it was a good strategy, there was just bad luck involved). My kids were most shocked by the idea that Reagan had the solar panels on the white house removed that had been installed under Carter, since it costs more to do that than leave them, so it was incredibly petty.

And there is of course a Simpsons quote for everything, and Springfield had a statue of Jimmy Carter with the phrase "Malaise Forever" inscribed under it, and someone there called him "History's greatest monster!" which of course now in the age where satire is dead is something some actual people on conservative stations seem to be saying, rather than appreciating all the good he put into the world from Habitat for Humanity to helping eradicate guinea worm through his foundation.

Anyway, seems like a good moment to share how when Ian and I got married many years ago, my dad suggested we send a few invitations to famous people. Because why not? The white house always sends new couples a little certificate if they get a wedding invitation, so we did that. I also sent invitations to Oliver Sacks, Sting, Miss Manners, J.D. Salinger, and the Carters. I included a note saying weddings are occasions where we want people who are important to us to be there, and sometimes that includes people we've never even met, and in that spirit would they please know they would be welcome to join the event.

 

The main reason for sending one to Miss Manners was because she had written a column about how she was opposed to RSVP return cards. She believed if someone was nice enough to invite you to their wedding, you should respond on your own stationery. So she was the only one who did not get an RSVP card, and her assistant did indeed write back on special stationery explaining Miss Manners would be out of the country at that time, but appreciated the invite.

 

Getting people to actually return those cards is incredibly frustrating. My brother Arno never did return his because he found that amusing. But you know who did send back that little card with the "no" box ticked? Jimmy Carter. That makes me smile every time I think of it.

 

He's earned his rest. I hope we have another president as kind as he was again.

The 2024 Election and Beyond

It's been just over a week since the election, and I'm still processing, but feel the need to get my thoughts out so I can deal with them better. I apologize now if they are all over the place. It may also be interesting in the future to look back on this moment and see how I was feeling in this time of transition.

Although transition is a strange thing. I saw an interview I related to with an athlete recently where he described his support for his trans-daughter as a transition for him, not for her. She simply is who she is, and he had to adapt and change based on a shift in his own expectations. 

That's how I'm feeling about our nation right now, but in a harsh kind of light instead of an uplifting one.

I want to rage against the foolishness and cruelty. I want to see people who voted against their own interests have it boomerang back in their faces. I want the people down the street with their "Trump 2024: Fuck your feelings" flag to understand how much worse they made our neighborhood for so many kids on the block. 

But I also need to decide who I am, and who I want to be. That person isn't hateful. That person doesn't revel in the pain of others or seek revenge. That person wants fairness and compassion for everyone, even for people who don't want to extend it to me.

That's hard to manage at a time where the presidency is being used as a get-out-of-jail-free card, "Your body, my choice" is trending on social media, and things are looking frighteningly similar to Germany in the 1930s.

I hear a lot of people expressing shock that things have changed so drastically. And I am not going to downplay that, since I think respect for rule of law is gone and we are headed into a dark time for many, not just here, but everywhere.

However, I think what we are seeing is what was always here. America was built on lofty ideals paid for with genocide and slavery. There have been advances and change, which are the parts of my country that I had pride in, but we've never paid those early debts or healed any wounds. 

What we are looking at now is white supremacy without filters.

The same people that are here today were here a few weeks ago. I'm just seeing them differently, because this isn't a disagreement over politics, it's a fundamental split over morality.

If you voted for Trump, you have made this world less safe for people I care about, and I cannot forgive that. 

If you voted for Trump, you voted against decency. You threw my daughters under the bus for what you hope will be lower prices, even though on a global level we have one of the highest standards of living in the world already. Instead of asking why things are expensive, we should be asking why people aren't paid properly for their labor so they can afford what they need. 

If you voted for Trump, you voted against the environment. Places and animals and plant species will be destroyed that will be gone forever, and that is unconscionable.

If you voted for Trump, you did it for reasons that boil down to greed and indifference to other people's suffering.

If you voted for Trump, I no longer trust you. I don't know yet if you can earn it back.

I am angry. I feel helpless. I am ashamed of the path our country is on.

I'm a cis-het white woman raised in a white community. I'm sure I still don't fully understand my privilege, but being thrust into a vulnerable space post-election, it's clearer than it was before. I've taken the level of freedom many of us enjoy for granted.

For perspective, I've been thinking a lot about the African-American community. They did not, on the whole, appear to have the same gut wrenching reaction in 2016 that white liberal voters did, because they never expected a difference in their own outcomes based on the choices offered. Even a cursory glance over Black History in this country shows a system that has dehumanized and terrorized black people here from the start. White supremacy requires we don't look at that. Which is why I hadn't heard of the Tulsa Massacre until nearly its 100th anniversary, and why Oklahoma public schools are only allowed to teach about it if they somehow omit race from the discussion. We may have the 24th amendment to address poll taxes, but we still have the 13th that provides a loophole for slave labor if people are in prison. You just have to look to Tamir Rice (and a long list of others) to know we have not progressed from Emmett Till. Abuses of "medicine" in Tuskegee may technically be in the past, but higher mortality rates for pregnant women in the African-American community regardless of income is alive and well. Red lining, how education is funded, stop and frisk, the fact that I should be able to look around the orchestras I play in and see faces that reflect my city at large and yet seldom do I get to play with black musicians despite Milwaukee only being about a third white, are all evidence that we have a fundamental problem. 

Racism is this country's original sin. Sexism is its adopted abused sister.

There is an enormous amount of inspiration to be taken from the experience of black people in America. American culture is black culture. Jazz, Blues, Hip-hop, innovations in dance, art, fashion, food, comedy, writing... All created in pockets of community within a hostile culture at large, where lynchings still happen and the police and courts are viewed as a threat rather than protection. That's true for other communities that suffer oppression here, from LGBTQ+ communities, to Hispanic culture, to the indigenous people whom this country has tried to annihilate in every conceivable way and which persist regardless.

So here we are in 2024, and as depressed as I (justifiably) feel about many things, I remember history is a long story of injustice and imperfection and suffering. We've been lucky to live in a time and place where incredible possibilities have existed and wondrous things are occasionally achieved. Can I really look at friends who have come here from places like Cuba and Venezuela, or talk to people whose relatives survived the Holocaust, or read stomach churning news about women trying to survive under the Taliban without losing their lives or their minds, and really give up hope here?

I am not that delicate, or callous.

I've turned away from the news lately because there is only so much I can take without feeling the physical effects of panic. That helps no one. I've turned toward more music, which is better for my soul anyway. The song with lyrics that resonate with me the most when I am at my darkest moments is The Heart of Life by John Mayer. I only seem to find this song when I'm feeling overwhelmed, and it reduces me to tears while making me feel I need to get up and keep going.

If we are lucky, the pendulum will eventually swing the other way. Not until a lot of damage that can't be undone has happened, but there is hope the system will remain and give us another chance to advance toward things like "diversity, equality, and inclusion" which have somehow been distorted into something to fear rather than strive for in our society. I suspect the people coming into power will not find it as easy to govern as they imagine. They don't have a mandate as much as they have a facile and demanding electorate that they can't deliver as many of their promises to as they believe.

If we are unlucky, and there is no more pendulum to swing as the system collapses into chaos, then collectively we didn't deserve it. I don't know what comes next. I will just do the best I can. I recommend people read the Declaration of Independence if you haven't recently. The list of grievances against the king is eerily familiar. Maybe if it all falls apart, we can divide up and reboot. I'll choose the side that actually believes in the Constitution, because despite its myriad flaws, it's still an excellent blueprint for creating a decent society.

When I talked to my oldest child who was looking at the election results from her college dorm room and feeling scared, it took tremendous effort to find words to share with her. Her dad told her we'd be okay, but that misses the point. As a straight white man in America, of course he'll be okay. He's not being targeted, so even as he's worried for us and others, it doesn't hit him in the same visceral way it does, say, women, who already weren't seeing justice for rape victims now watching a sexual abuser being elevated to the White House for the second time by people who somehow don't care.

I did not tell my daughter it was going to be okay, because much of it won't be. This is hard, and any decent person witnessing the destruction that is coming should be upset. However, I told her that even though millions of people voted for Trump, almost as many millions did not. Those people are still here, and still willing to do the right thing. I told her she has a family that will circle the wagons to protect her, and any of her friends who need to feel safe. I told her we will do the best we can. I reminded her there is still beauty in the world, and good people, and there is always hope as long as we choose it. The things we loved yesterday are still here today, and they are worth protecting. That's our job now.

What am I going to do going forward? The same as before. I will make things, fix things, help people in front of me who need it, and try to leave the world a little better today than yesterday if I can. 

I can only control myself. I cannot reason with people who want to believe in lies, or whitewash history, or who don't have enough imagination or empathy to understand that there are needs beyond their own, or ways of life that are as equally valid as what they have been taught to value.

I will not let the greed and recklessness of others rob me of joy and appreciation of this one life I get to live. I am disgusted and disappointed in my country, but it is still my home, and I will try in my own small way to make it what I think it should be: A decent place where freedom is protected for everyone.

Are you looking for The Insect Epiphany?

Dr. Barrett Klein—entomologist, professor of biology at University of Wisconsin LaCrosse, and brother extraordinaire—has a book out!

The Insect Epiphany is available "everywhere books are sold" as the line goes. 

You can hear Barrett talk about his book on Science Friday! (How cool is it that my brother was on Science Friday?)

He's been on a ton of podcasts and shows recently, and got to showcase his book at the recent Wisconsin Book Fair in Madison WI, which I hope gets people interested in what technically is a niche kind of book. But it isn't, really, because it touches on all of humanity and our place within this world alongside nature and our insect neighbors.

Other reasons to check out The Insect Epiphany if you know me, would be some artwork by my mother Karen Anne Klein, as well as a picture of a viola I made (that I play on) and how that relates to the contributions of insects in our culture.

But truly, the best reason to read this book is that it is an extension of Barrett himself. I wish everyone could know Barrett. His enthusiasm is contagious, and his kindness and curiosity come through on every page of The Insect Epiphany. He is brilliant and fun, and his appreciation of the world and its insect inhabitants is both inspiring and touching.

I love my brother, and I love that through this book I can share some of what makes him special. Go get this book.