Charting Dan's Idealism Through Time

Hello.

Dan here.

In case I forgot to mention it, I left Hawaii and moved to Washington, DC. In January (aka winter). Seriously! I had to buy shoes and everything.

I meant to write this email about eight months ago, but I couldn't figure out how to tone down my amazement at living in a city which experiences phenomena such as weather and bow ties. But now that I have adjusted, I feel that an update is in order.

Everyday, I go to work in a suit. Yes, me. And not a wetsuit or a swimsuit: a proper suit, one made out of a material called “wool.” The great thing about wearing a suit is that when I put it on, I look like everyone else here, and people I meet can’t tell that I don’t fit in.

My job is to explain marine science to people in Congress (like my boss, Congressman Farr from California) and to help make policy that will result in the ocean (which I love) getting better instead of worse. This is a lot harder than it sounds because when dealing with people who don’t believe in climate change or think that “shark fins just grow back,” there is a LOT of background to cover. But I get to learn neat things, meet interesting people and get first hand exposure to policy, politics and procedure.

For a better understanding of how this has effected my outlook, please see the attached graphic, entitled: “Charting Dan’s Political Idealism Through Time.”

When viewing the graph, you’ll notice a sharp spike that occurred yesterday when Obama gave a speech to a Joint Session of Congress. The reason for my precipitous increase in idealism is that I was able to attend the speech in person. Every Member of Congress receives a single extra ticket to give to anyone they please: spouse, child, friend, etc. My office had a raffle for my boss’s ticket. This is the first raffle I have ever won, and my idealism spiked accordingly. Winning a raffle simply makes one feel better about the world.

It was a very good speech, I thought, though I know little about healthcare on account of being healthy most of the time. (That and in college, I mostly learned about fish.) But it turns out that these speeches are a lot of work to attend for a number of reasons. First, you have to go through tons of security just to get in and the Secret Service puts the TSA to shame. Fine, this is understandable. Second, you are expected to clap, more or less continuously, the entire time: as the Congressmen and Senators enter the Chamber, as the Cabinet, court justices, dignitaries, the First Lady, etc enter, as the President enters (you must clap extra hard for this—nearly as hard as for the First Lady) and of course, after every single word the President says. Third, you are expected to jump to your feet, clapping exuberantly, after every fifth word the President says, no exceptions. Suffice it to say, it was probably the first, last and only evening I will get to spend doing jumping-jacks with Nancy Pelosi. In order to pace myself through the speech and avoid leg fatigue, I took my standing cues from Michelle Obama and only leapt to my feet if she did also. Incidentally, I had a very good seat in the front row of the gallery (aka balcony) almost directly in front of the President. Lucky me!

A few other observations I can share about the evening:

- Members of Congress are no better behaved than middle school kids: they clap when they’re not supposed to, don’t clap when they are supposed to, hoot, yell, whistle, hold up rude signs, etc. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be embarrassed for our country.

- They push and shove and scramble over each other for the chance to touch/shake hands with Obama, regardless of whether they support his policies. This I definitely laughed at.

- Vice President Biden is only capable of making one expression, like he is carefully pondering the state of Delaware on a map: “Hmm… I’m sure it’s here somewhere…”

- Michelle Obama is one classy lady.

- President Obama is one cool operator.

Anyways, after the speech I left the Capitol building to walk back across the street to my office, but friendly public servants with big loaded guns made this a slow process. While waiting for them to let me pass, I had a pleasantly random conversation with Laird Hamilton (very tall) and his wife Gabriella Reece (even taller). We recapped the speech and lamented the necessity of wearing closed toed shoes in Washington. It was nice to have someone to whom I could say “aloha.”

All in all, it was a very surreal evening. Healthcare: what is that?

I hope you are well and would love to hear from you.