Climb aboard, friends, we need you

Recently at a favorite downtown restaurant my 1957 bride and I were seated near a congenial post-middle age couple, new residents recently arrived from Southern California.

They said a main reason they left the golden state (at least it was golden in the 1930s and '40s when Jacquelynn and I grew up there) was because California frowned upon people who carried loaded firearms into supermarkets, drugstores, gas stations, banks, churches, restaurants, etc. The husband then pulled his jacket aside and, with conspicuous pride, exposed a holstered 45. My garrulous bride, never one for political correctness, said, "Well, yay for California!" Whereupon the couple rolled their eyes, sneered, then pretended we weren't there. Clearly, we were lily-livered sissies. Maybe even book readers.

To such recent arrivals — many, it seems, fleeing modern California and in a big rush to honk, tailgate and act rude - I share this counsel: relax, be nice, and start working for, not against, the common weal.

I would remind them that ours is a nation of laws and the planet's model democracy, not the autocacy that so many current anti-American saboteurs — QAnon, Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, Neo-Nazis, Skinheads, KKK, conspiracy wonks, etc., seem to be working toward. And the Pacific Northwest is to those of us who live here the geographic and cultural gem of this model democracy — not a rampart for failures and haters.

Rather than licking their chops over the armageddon they seem to be courting, they might join the National Guard. Or apply for employment with one of our effective, friendly, underpaid law enforcement teams. Then lugging guns around would be routine, not creepy. Moreover, the hedonistic, violence-driven lobbyists of the NRA could go back to being the mentoring organization they were when those of us of a certain mellow vintage earned ribbons for hitting targets, under responsible NRA supervision, at summer camps. (Like the current, craven GOP, the NRA was a whole different thing back in the day).

Too old for the National Guard or being a cop? Been there, done that? OK, enroll in nearby North Idaho College and study civics, history or literature. Turn off propaganda-spewing Fox News and read a book. Don't tackle James Joyce or the Russian classics. Nothing fancy, just good ol' American authors. Ask anyone at the library to set you up with Mark Twain, Walt Whitman, Harper Lee, Hemingway, Faulkner, Alice Walker ("The Color Purple"), Fitzgerald, Sinclair Lewis, Steinbeck, Joan Didion, Eudora Welty, A.B. Guthrie, or Betty Smith ("A Tree Grows in Brooklyn"). Memorizing the Book of Mormon, the Koran, the Talmud, the Quran or the Bible then calling it a day, if that's your schtick, is OK; but education it isn't.

Rather than erecting barriers against your neighbors, try plowing their snowy driveways. Send your kids to our fine public schools, then dive into parent teacher associations and work with other parents and teachers. Volunteer for a local nonprofit: the animal shelter, Panhandle Special Needs, Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness, the Cottage thrift store, Community Assistance League and its busy Bizarre Bazaar, the food bank, Friends of the Library, Angels Over Sandpoint, the Panida Theater, Habitat For Humanity, the Pend Orielle Arts Council, or the revived music festival. Join a church. Build and bike local paths with Ponderay Pedalers. Help maintain and hike the bay trail. Join the Elks, Lions or Rotary. No one here is out to get you, so leave your armaments at the door.

If you try, you'll find Sandpoint life brimming with promise, friendships, joy, success. To cite some happy lyrics from a pop hit of an earlier and simpler era: "leave your worries on the doorstep ... just direct your feet ... to the sunny side of the street." You will be warmly welcomed here. If you're nice, we need you.

TIM HENNEY

Sandpoint