Hitting the Bridge

A metaphor for the coming election

So there’s this bridge, not far from where I live.

And it’s a little old-fashioned bridge, that carries a railroad track over a small country highway. The bridge is 10 feet high.

The sad fact is that in today’s world, most trucks are more than 10 feet high. And so if a truck that is 10 feet 1 inch or higher attempts to go under the bridge, it will not fit. This is a fact.

Another fact is that the bridge has been hit by trucks dozens of times over the past decade.

The powers that be have put up signs, stating that the bridge is in fact 10 feet high. The signs do not prevent the bridge from being struck repeatedly every year. This year it was struck once a month in May, June, and July, the record being twice in one week in September.

Some crashes are slow-motion disasters, like fingernails screeching on a blackboard, as the truck wedges itself underneath the implacable bridge. Others are quite entertaining, as the bridge skillfully peels the roof clean off the truck, like opening a tin of sardines.

Some drivers see the signs, and attempt to creep cautiously under the span, on the theory that the bridge won’t notice them if they go slowly enough. Other drivers hit the bridge going full bore, hoping perhaps to blast their way through their destiny. Whatever the technique, they all come up against the incontrovertible fact that neither optimism or denial, prayer nor positive thinking can alter. The bridge is 10 feet high.

The problem is not just truck drivers who are overtired, mathematically challenged, or indulging in magical thinking. It takes two, as they say, to tango. This a problem that is completely solvable. If we don’t want trucks bumping into our bridge, we could raise the bridge. We could lower the roadway. We could reroute the highway. We could reroute the train tracks. I’m no engineer, and I have no idea which of these is the correct solution, but surely we could try any number of things. The one thing that won’t work—and the one thing, human nature being what it is, that we will infallibly do—is put up another, bigger, brighter sign warning that the bridge is 10 feet high.

I harp on this point to mock neither overworked and underpaid truckdrivers, or well-meaning city officials. The point is that for me the bridge points out the fact that it’s human nature to ignore warnings and keep on crashing into the same problem again and again and again.

Does this comic tragedy, or tragic comedy, of the bridge bring any political situations to mind?

As we enter this New Year, there are surely a lot of low bridges awaiting us on the road to the November election. And this may be the most important election of our time. On the long, winding road leading up to to the 2016 election, we had warning signs and flashing lights galore, and we ignored them. And look where we ended up.

Last week there was another bridge strike on this little country road. It was a truck carrying tanks of compressed gas. It blew up with flames shooting two hundred feet into the air, with an explosion that was heard seven miles away.

Maybe this little bridge’s most important function is to serve as a lesson to us all. If we want to avoid the disaster of a Trump presidency, denial and magical thinking are not our best companions on this pot-holed, bumpy road to the polls of 2024. Trump is not going away. Defeating him will involve confronting the problem and finding realistic, effective solutions.

Hello, dear friends.

Are you more than a little worried about the election of 2024 and wondering what to do about it? I hope you’ll continue to check out my substack, The Optimistic Activist.

Starting in January, the month of resolution, every Tuesday I plan to post some ideas for doing something. How to get out the vote, spread the word, and support progressive candidates. Ideas for simple but effective activism. As easy, as practical, as do-able as I can make them.

Together, I think, we could really make a difference.