My Frog Totem

     He is a green fellow not quite as big as my thumb -- a squirrel tree frog, if I correctly read the  reference sources.
     We see him in the spring. He arrives unannounced.  We may first  spot him clinging to the outside of a den window. Or sometimes he chooses the window over the kitchen sink. Apparently he likes to watch us between our chores and at them, too.
     He seems to have a bold look in his eye. Perhaps they all do. I wouldn't know, as this is the only squirrel tree frog I have ever met. Or perhaps I infer boldness from his behavior.   When I step right up to the window pane for a nose-to-nose encounter, he is unperturbed.  I especially remarked the time he decided to join us at table.
     We had family in for a meal. A granddaughter announced -- with noteworthy aplomb -- that she could not sit because a frog occupied her chair. Sure enough, there he was, green as nature itself.
     Caught out, he hopped under the table.  This occasioned quick agreement on a goal of shooing him outside uninjured.    Execution of the agreement was not as smooth.  Several adults put head and shoulders under the table and opened a debate of the frog's precise whereabouts (he is quite small, after all) and the best means of inducing him to leave.   A couple of noggins got bumped in the undertaking, and no audible agreement was reached.
     The frog soon hopped out of the scrum on his own.   He was, indeed, uninjured. To my eye he was also unimpressed. At his own pace he made his way to a back door and waited there for one of us to let him out. The scrum took a bit longer to sort out.
     Literature, legend  and tradition are full of animal imagery.  From the ancient Greeks through Aesop and beyond, cultures have embraced versions of a  concept found among Native Americans as the creature totem. Human traits -- cunning,  courage, endurance -- are attributed to animals. A certain animal may be deemed to serve a person or a group as a symbol, example or even spiritual guide.
     If choosing a personal totem, I would go for the lion or stag. But tradition says that we don't choose our totems. They choose us. Thus the frog's attentions have caused me to wonder if I've been chosen by a tiny amphibian.
     According to people learned in such matters, I should not shrink from this notion. The frog is considered a symbol of purity, rebirth, healing and opportunity.  With due regard for purity, I shrink nonetheless.  The frog persona just isn't me. If matters totemic are indeed afoot, a happier notion is that the frog has mistaken me for someone else, and that somewhere a lion or stag is wondering how to find me.
     I am comforted in this view by the fact that we haven't seen the frog this year. Perhaps he has left to fasten upon his proper ward. But I assume that a wee frog has limited range. Even on someone else's turf, he must remain nearby. Thus, as I move among our neighbors, I watch for occasion to impart my lore. It could not be called  life-changing or hard-won. But in the business of the frog, it is what I have to offer: Don't let too many people get under the table. Just open the back door. He will see himself out.
   

Crooks I Have Known

     During my newspaper career I was acquainted with several crooks. This was strictly for professional reasons (mine not theirs).  They were not the violent sort. They were con artists, white-collar chiselers, petty thieves and grifters.
     Some had retired, or so they said. Others admitted that they were probably just between jail terms. Whatever their game, they shared one trait: They lacked a normal perception of moral and ethical boundaries.
      They knew that their behavior was at odds with societal rules. They just didn't believe, in their hearts, that their behavior was altogether wrong.  If others were victimized, the victims were culpable for not effectively protecting themselves and their property. Finders keepers, so to speak, even if the finding was done inside someone else's purse.  Little obligation was felt to refrain from doing what others didn't prevent.
      I think about this ethic sometimes when I watch the people in charge of our national government. Among them, an historic dearth of ability has been matched by a shortage of character.
      Elaboration on the character of the president is a challenge, as pejorative vocabulary is so quickly exhausted.  He  is the kind of man well reared children are taught to avoid.  With him, for now, we have a Congress that treats the American people as if we were dupes in a sidewalk shell game.
     A prime exhibit  would be the new tax law, which Republicans whooped through in haste and secrecy that kept the public from comprehending it. They now hope propaganda can persuade voters not to worry their pretty little heads about proper governance.  The emerging message says: Grab a short-term windfall, go shopping, and re-elect your sugar daddies in the fall.
     Nor should we overlook the blame-game opera of government shutdown, in which the worthies maneuvered to put a thumb on the scales of the November election.  With serial chicanery in Congress and serial mendacity in the White House, we are receiving a revelation of sorts.  The folks in charge have chosen the base side of the difference between leading people and herding them.
     This view of the consent of the governed gives license. Lawmaking is guided not by principle, but by the odds of voters making a nuisance of themselves.  And if voter consent is obtained by slippery method -- well, caveat emptor. Little obligation is felt to refrain from doing what the electorate doesn't prevent.
     Pundits who lament a failure of bipartisan spirit are speaking imprecisely, in my opinion. The true lapse is from a duty to govern in the broader interest of all the people. In just one example, Republicans who crow that their tax law will harm Democrats politically are thumbing their noses at the citizens who elected the Democrats.
     With complicity by leaders sworn to do better, our government has been Balkanized. Candidates and officeholders sing the tune of one faction or another. Zealous interests war outright against cohesion. A whole greater than the sum of its parts is not built. But the greater whole is, of course, the very idea of America.
     For this dismal circumstance there is blame enough to go around. An extra portion goes to  Republican leaders in Congress. They set a tone by working cynically for eight years to undermine a duly elected Democratic president. Now in power, they settle for ginning out cheap maneuvers while their own party's president challenges the gag reflex of the  world.
     History will call the lot of them authors of an epochal disgrace.