I love the Ice Bucket Challenge

IcebucketchallengeI know it’s jumped the shark, and that all the cool kids are over it, and that people like me who do work in social change are supposed to hate the Ice Bucket Challenge for an ever-growing variety of reasons.

While I’m often inclined toward cycnicsm, I just can’t join the haters on this one.

An incomplete list of reasons I love the #icebucketchallenge:

1. It’s fun, human, and connects us. From the middle east to small towns in middle America, it’s been tough in the world lately. We could all use some fun, humanity, and connection.

2. $80 million and 1.7 million new donors, as of today. During the same period last year, ALSA raised $2.5 million.

And that’s just for ALSA; it doesn’t take into account the money raised for local ALS organizations, which are also reporting significant upticks in contributions.

Given the money raised and the number of new donors, it’s superfluous to take on the argument that people are dumping ice on their heads instead of donating. Other objections are less specious.

Shouldn’t we be publicly financing research by fully funding the NIH? Of course we should.

Will the Ice Bucket Challenge raise enough money to find a cure? Sadly, almost certainly not.

And are there myriad other causes that deserve as much attention and money, from anti-racism to violence prevention to the Ebola pandemic to other diseases? Absolutely. The world is a big place with many things that need fixing.

But while we work to elect people who will vote to fund the NIH and we pay attention to the many other things that matter, it’s not a bad thing to have driven so much new money and attention to ALS.

3. We don’t know exactly where it came from, but we know this: no organization, consultant, or focus group can be credited with originating this charitable tsunami. In fact, ALSA’s attempts to officially participate have fallen flat (shockingly, the official ASLA ice cube image hasn’t gone viral!).

As a consultant I am dreading the next year of conversations I’m going to have to have about inventing “the next ice bucket challenge.” But I love that this authentically originated and grown effort is evidence that at least part of what we do-gooder theorists mean when we say the internet can be a tool for cultivating leaders and spreading goodness is possible.

4. While fundraising experts wring their hands about how ALS will turn Ice Bucket Challenge donors into regular donors and advocates, the challenge just keeps on going. There’s no evidence-based way to confirm this, but I’d be willing to bet that part of the challenge’s success is that it’s momentary and easy.

Is it turning every person who dumps ice on their head and donates to ALSA.org into a donor or an activist? Of course not.

Is it permanently building the ALSA into a powerhouse that will never want for money or clout again? Probably no.

But for right here and right now it’s got people talking about a terrible disease, donating money to a good cause, and inviting their family and friends to do the same. Sure, another cause will be the temporary rage next month.

And while only a tiny fraction of the millions of people who gave to ALSA will take another action on behalf of the cause, 1% of 1.7 million people is 17,000. Nothing to sneeze at.

5. It inspires us to be imperfect in public for a good reason. Nobody looks good getting a bucket of water dumped over his or her head. Nobody. And yet, in this age of filters and the carefully curated selfie (guilty) people in droves are posting pictures of themselves looking ridiculous in service to something bigger than themselves.

So go ahead. If you haven’t yet grabbed a loved one, delivered a brief spiel about giving money to ALSA (and/or another cause you believe in – I gave to ALSA and a friend’s TNT fundraiser), challenged a few other folks, and then dumped ice water on each other, get on it. This will sadly all be over soon.

Tax Day Musings: Middle Class?

If your household income is $250,000 you are not middle class, you are rich. Unless you count the middle class as the middle 80% – including the 10% or so of households with just under $5,000 in after-tax annual income.

Nobody I know would argue that households with $5,000 to live on if they don’t get any help should be considered in the same economic class as those with $250,000 to live on. It’s nonsensical.

So, if you live in the US and your household after-tax income is $250,000 or more you’re rich. Congratulations. (Don’t take my word for it. Download the income spreadsheets from the US Census website and check my math.)

That doesn’t mean you never worry about money. I live in one of the wealthiest zip codes in the country and I’ve watched many very rich friends and neighbors spend themselves into severe financial stress by buying ever bigger houses, sending kids to exorbitantly expensive private schools, taking spectacular vacations, buying expensive furniture and spending more than the national average income on remodeling kitchens and bathrooms.

But voluntary spending so that you don’t have as much cash left over as you’d like to feel comfortable is not the same as not having enough cash to pay  basic living expenses without help.

Before we ramp up toward our annual national strum and drang on tax day about whether “the middle class is under attack!” which this year will almost certainly come along with yet another round of debate about whether and for whom to end the Bush-era tax cuts for the rich, take a moment to think: what is the middle class, really?

Maybe you’ll decide that I’m wrong: $5,000/year households and $250,000/year households really are similarly middle class.

Either way you’ll be better equipped to evaluate the overheated claims about what our tax code does and doesn’t do, and for whom.

Of course a rational definition of the middle class doesn’t settle things – there’s a coherent argument that rich people spend more money thus returning more cash to the economy, so taxing them as little as possible frees up capital that can then be turned around to create jobs, etc. I’m no economist, but dozens of them have dug into the available data and don’t agree about what it says on that point. Maybe the rich reinvest in the economy, and maybe they just sit on their money in offshore accounts in the Caymans.

Our politics and our policy often hinge on code phrases that don’t have any rational, publicly shared meaning. “Middle class” is one of those code phrases, and it’s about time we decode it.

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New Plan for 2012: Find A New Awesome

Lesson learned: it turns out Pretty Damn Awesome was pretty damn ephemeral.

It feels like my world has been shredded, but some things remain comfortingly the same. Among them is my propensity to cope via list making.

So here goes. My new 2012 plan: find a new awesome.

1. Say Yes.

If you’re doing something interesting and wouldn’t mind company, ask me. I’ll probably say yes. I’m going to intentionally say yes to whatever I can, whenever I can.

For nearly two decades I’ve said yes with and for someone else. I’m going to be brave and open and say yes by myself for myself. So go ahead, ask me. I’m in.

2. Seek Out New.

I loved my “before” life – I thought it was Pretty Damn Awesome, actually – but there’s plenty I didn’t do in it. I’m going to commit to trying something new at least once during my every other weekend of time that Caleb’s with David. Cooking classes? Here I come. Race car driving school? Hells yes. MeetUp Running Group? Sure. At least the once.

3. Keep What Works.

There were a slew of things in my plan that were working for me, and certainly still will even in my odd new life. Here’s what stays:

Exercise Better

  • Run no more than 2x/week to avoid exercise-halting injuries this year.
  • Lift weights 5x/week, even if only for 20 minutes some days.

Eat for My Health

  • Eat leafy greens 2x/day

Don’t Be On Call

  • Schedule time for tasks

Reconnect

  • At least once a week, click through my social media newsfeed to someone I haven’t been in direct touch with in awhile and send a quick hello. (modified from daily)

Really Connect

  • At least once a month I’m going to pick up the phone or schedule to have a meal with someone I’ve been close to but our communications have been reduced to Facebook likes and comments. (modified from 2x/month)

4. Be Mad and Sad (and Happy) with Caleb

My boy is wise and noted that he and I are going to need a much longer mad and sad list. He asked me to commit to building a bigger list of things to do together when we’re mad and sad, and to make sure we’re doing at least one of those things every other week. He’s smart (and remarkably awesome). It goes in the plan.

5. Take the Short View.

The long view is scary as hell right now. I’m going to let myself look no further ahead than a little bit. Maybe two weeks.  I’ll grow into the long view again someday, I’m sure.

Progressives: Ceding the Battlefields That Matter

Progressives are all about figuring out how to better organize. Better apps and and better team structures and better models and better applying lessons from the 60s (howdy, Occupiers!).

And that’s smart, we have to figure out how to out-organize, because it’s fairly evident we aren’t going to out-spend. The Chamber of Commerce and its adjuncts in the SuperPACs and other independent expenditures its members fund run laps around our progressive campaign dollars. (Whether progressives would be better served by being smarter about political money instead of just fighting it is a topic for another day).

But does that better organizing have to come with a turning away from politics and policy?

From where I sit, too often it does, and it guarantees that we’ll lose more often on the big stuff and be left with apps for the small stuff.

Two examples of where conservatives are walking all over progressives, not because they’ve got more money but because they focus it better on winning the battles that set the context for everything else:

  • Conservatives fully appreciate the power of Congress. As Grover Norquist said at last week’s CPAC conference, when it comes to the Oval Office they’re just looking for someone who knows how to hold a pen to sign or veto what comes off the Hill.

All we have to do is replace Obama. …  We are not auditioning for fearless leader. We don’t need a president to tell us in what direction to go. We know what direction to go. We want the Ryan budget. … We just need a president to sign this stuff. We don’t need someone to think it up or design it. The leadership now for the modern conservative movement for the next 20 years will be coming out of the House and the Senate.

That means they’re intensely focused on electing ever more conservative Members of Congress – and holding those Congresspeople’s feet to the fire lest they stray. In other words, Conservatives are focused on politics in order to win on policy. They organize to win elections, secure in the knowledge that by winning elections they win policy. In my experience, the progressive approach is exactly the opposite: organize around issues and hope it influences elections (if we focus on elections at all).

  • Conservatives also fully appreciate the power of state legislatures. They have invested heavily in a state legislative powerhouse, ALEC, that writes sample legislation and provides advice, data, and political cover for passing it. This is things like private control of public education dollars, limiting the power of state environmental regulators, erasing gun control regulations, transitioning tax burdens from corporations to individuals, gutting the social safety net. At least one ALEC bill has been introduced in 38 states – a bill that provides the legal backup for state AGs to challenge the Health Care Reform Act. As the New York Times noted this week, there is no corresponding progressive effort.

Even if there’s an awesome, peerless, amazing app for every social change concern represented in the big progressive tent, if the laws of the land at every level create a playing field that’s conservative, progressives will be playing with our tools on the sidelines while conservatives continue to shape the world the way they’d like it.

So, If I had a magic politics wand and could change the progressive worldview, I’d do two things:

  1. Make progressive leadership internalize that elections have giant consequences, and the election that matters the least might be the one for President. Organize to win Congress, and we will win on policy. Work the other way around, and we’ll always be a few steps behind.
  2. Invest in fighting for state policy, and do it starting now. Yes, now. Even in the 2012 elections. We’re decades behind here and need to catch up immediately.

Hopefully someone, somewhere has that magic politics wand. I’m tired of watching conservatives win because they have the field to themselves.

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An Ode to Instapaper

Back in the bad old days, I would routinely end my work day with at least a dozen browser windows open to articles I wanted to read, but couldn’t fit into my day. The last little stressful thing I did was decide what to do with all of that content I’d deemed important enough to open a browser window for, but not important enough to drop everything to consume.

Worse: I have a bookmarks file called “Read Someday” with links numbering in the hundreds. (True story.)

Worst of all: I used to print out articles I wanted to read and had a pile of paper on my desk that I felt guilty about because a) I’d wasted a bunch of paper on things I might find useful and b) I likely wouldn’t get to reading them in any case, so would certainly not find them useful.

And then… Instapaper.

For the uninitiated, Instapaper is a sort of online bookmarking service. Via a little “Read Later” button in your browser bar, it saves articles in a handy repository online.

Not unlike the “Read Someday” bookmarks file… except useful. Useful because it has a feature that sends the articles I bookmarked that day to my Kindle, at a pre-set time. And, when I’ve read an article, I can archive it (or “like” and archive it if it’s something I’ll want to come back to later.)

So now: no printouts. No useless lists of hundreds of links I’ll never click on again.

Instead: a daily delivery to my kindle of articles I found at least interesting enough to come back to later, during the hour of reading I’ve scheduled every day as part of my information diet.

In addition to making it far more likely I’ll read the things I mean to, my Instapaper habit has had another happy side effect: I jettison things that in the bad old days I would have wasted time on.

The day after the South Carolina primary I marked a dozen articles about Newt’s big win and What It All Meant to read later. I didn’t get to that edition of my Kindle-delivered Instapaper for a few days, and by the time I did South Carolina was irrelevant. Articles archived, reading time saved, and more interestingly, perspective gathered: what seems vital today might seem silly tomorrow.

I’m an Instapaper evangelist. Get your own account here: http://www.instapaper.com/

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February’s Improving on Pretty Damn Awesome Plan: reconnect, really connect, and show proofs of love.

It’s February and I’m leaning in to it: this month’s Improving on Pretty Damn Awesome plan will focus on LOVE.

I’m extremely lucky in love:

  • I’m married to a hottie who’s also my best friend and my true partner in life.
  • While my son causes me to question my skill at parenting now and then, he’s a sweet, smart, interesting, funny kid whom I love dearly and am kind of amazed I get to shepherd in the world, for now.
  • I have close friends that I adore.
  • My family is spread out but by and large healthy and happy and we stay connected.
  • I work with amazing people whom I admire, and some of them have become close enough friends I would describe my feelings for them as a sort of love.

So one might assume my task list will be small this month. All good here.

And yet…

I read recently that a sign of maturity is the deep down realization that love is for people. I can admire, covet, adore, be enamored with, get excited about things and experiences, but I can only love people.

I’ve also read in many places, many times, in many formulations that the extent of a person’s connectivity – his or her participation and cultivation of strong and weak ties with other people – is a nearly perfect predictor of health, happiness, and longevity.

Which all comes together to get me thinking about the many people in my life and how well I work at really appreciating them, and investing in making my networks stronger.

Shorthand: we’re better when we live for love. Hokey as it sounds, this month I’m going to work at that.

Here’s the plan:

1. Reconnect

There’s a very long list of people I was once close to and we drifted apart or away. There’s a similarly long list of people that I kind of know but regularly wish I knew better. This month, I’m working on establishing some new habits to cultivate these “weak ties.” The point isn’t to make everyone my new best friend. The point is to make a consistent and intentional effort to reconnect with people I’d like to keep in better touch with. Maybe that means a slew of closer ties; maybe it just means cementing some of those weaker ties; maybe I’ll be reminded of why I’m not closer to some folks.

The point is to make investments in my social networks. The task:

  • During one of my scheduled social media triage breaks on workdays, click through the newsfeed to someone I haven’t been in direct touch with in awhile and send a quick hello.

2. Really Connect

  • At least twice this month I’m going to pick up the phone or schedule to have a meal with someone I’ve been close to but our communications have been reduced to Facebook likes and comments.

Available evidence is that virtual connection isn’t bad, but in-person connection is vital. If reaching out for a quick virtual hello is a dollar deposit in the social connection bank, really connecting in-person or on the phone is a hundred dollar deposit. I want to do both.

Twice in a month sounds weak, and it is. But it would be a 100% improvement. I have friends that live within 6 block of me that I adore that I only see in passing. If I can start a twice a month habit of really connecting, it would be a big step in a good direction.

3. Give Proofs of Love

I’m stealing this shamelessly from Gretchen Rubin‘s book, The Happiness Project.

David and I are generally pretty good about doing little things every day that add up to a big cumulative “I love and appreciate you.” We pay attention when the other speaks and relieve little burdens – what Rubin rightly refers to as “proofs of love.”

I’m not sure I’m as good at giving proofs of love to Caleb, and I’m certain I’m not as good at giving them to the other people in my life whom I love. So, tasks:

  • Every night, reflect and record on a wee pad of paper next to my bed at least one proof of love I delivered for Caleb that day, and, if possible, one I delivered for someone other than Caleb or David. My theory here is that attention will breed action.

For those playing along at home:

Did January Improve on Pretty Damn Awesome?

Tomorrow’s a whole new month, so I’ll be posting a whole new installment of the 2012 Improving on Pretty Damn Awesome Plan.

But first, before January 2012 is officially history, an accounting of how January’s efforts went is in order. January was about developing habits to make me less stressed and more healthy.

Here’s what I tried in January, how I’d grade my effort, and whether I’m keeping the task in the plan for February:

1. Exercise better and more regularly.

  • Run no more than 2x/week to avoid exercise-halting injuries this year.

Grade: A! A happy side-effect of running less and cross-training more: I’m getting faster. This stays on the list.

  • Strap on my new Derby gear at least 1x/week to get my skate legs strong for Derby tryouts this summer.

Grade: C. I only managed to fit in 2 skate workouts in January. So long as the February weather holds out, I’m keeping this on the list.

  • Lift weights 5x/week, even if only for 20 minutes some days.

Grade: B+. I skipped a few days I should have lifted, and some days substituted lots of pushups and planks for actual weights, but mostly stuck with this one. I like it. I feel stronger. Stays on the task list.

2. Eat for my health.

  • Limit mostly-carb meals to 2x/week (one is Friday night Shabbat family movie and pizza night, so that means  just one more)

Grade: F. Weekends undid me here. I definitely reduced the number of carb-y meals I eat, but down to 4-5/week, not 2/week. This stays on the list, but as a more realistic change: 4x carb-based meals per week.

  • Eat leafy greens 2x/day

Grade: A! And easier than I thought it would be. The key has been to work leafy greens into breakfast. It helps with two tasks at once: green leafy veggies and not carb-centric. I’ve been making myself eggs and kale or spinach in the mornings. Yum and yes, this one stays on the list for February. It’s becoming enough of a habit that I can probably take it off the task list starting in March.

3. Stop being on call.

  • Schedule email time for 3x/workday, rather than having it always on in the background.

Grade: C. Days when I’m not running around at meetings I’m better at this, because I just close the email window and forget about it. Days when I’m out and about with my phone, I suck at ignoring the email app, even after I turned off notifications. This was a good idea, though. Scheduling email (and social media) through the day does help me focus when I’ve got something to produce.

I’m keeping this on the list, but modified: Schedule time for 20 minutes of email and social media triage once every 90 minutes when I’m working on my computer, rather than having it always on in the background.

  • Schedule time for tasks.

Grade: A. This has been very helpful. Me of many years ago was smart to work this way (inspired by David’s uber organization post-USAFA, if I remember correctly). Me of late is smart to pick the approach back up. Also: it turns out I’m terrible at estimating how much time I’ll need for some tasks, which is good information to have.  Stays on the list until it’s a habit and I’ve learned better how to estimate the time I need to get things done.

4. Sleep more.

  • Get 7 hours of sleep at night by going to bed at 10pm before 5am wakeup days.

Grade: F. I’m going to bed on time, but I’m not falling asleep or staying asleep. New task for February: research three things to try to help me sleep through the night, or fall back asleep quickly when my internal alarm clock decides 2:30am is the best time to be wide awake.

5. Go on an Information Diet.

  • Read one thing per day from a research-driven (versus politics-driven) conservative source.

Grade: C.  Because I forget to search it out on most days. I didn’t do it enough to know if it’s a good idea, so it stays on the list for now. Easy fix: I’m signing up for the Cato and Reason daily emails.

  • Watch one video a week from TED or Khan Academy on a topic I’m curious but ignorant about.

Grade: C.  Mostly because I didn’t treat this task like I treat every other task: I didn’t calendar it. Easy fix. Again, I didn’t do it enough to know  if it’s a good idea, so it stays on the list for now, calendared as a task.

  • Make use of my Instapaper account to aggregate my reading into one place that I can focus on for a (scheduled) one hour per day.

Grade: A. Instapaper has changed my (reading) life. Watch for a post that is a valentine from me to Instapaper in the near future. Such a part of my routine now that it doesn’t need to stay on the task list.

  • Write regularly, producing content for this blog 4x/week-ish.  My goal is 200 posts in 2012.

Grade: B. Three of January’s four weeks I only posted three times. That won’t keep me from 200 for the year, but it’s not 4x/week. The writing practice has been good for me, though. It’s given me an outlet to work through some of the randomness in my brain and a way to process the content I’m consuming. Keeping this on the list for another month.

6. Be mad and sad with Caleb while David’s gone.

  • Do one thing each week from the “mad and sad list” Caleb and I make of things we’ll do when we’re mad and sad that David’s gone for session.

Grade: B+. We skipped one week, but we did two things from the list another week. On track and still thinking this is a good idea. It’s nice for us to have a tradition we turn to together. Stays on the list for February.

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In sum, a good effort and I’m enjoying the structure. At some point the list is going to get unwieldy, so things are either going to need to become habits or they’ll need to be abandoned. Food for thought for Q2.  But first…

Onward! To February, which will be Love and People Month in my 2012 Improving on Pretty Damn Awesome Plan.

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Pot versus Tax Accountability: Pot in a Knockout

David writes a lot of legislation each session.

It’s a mix of:

  • fixes constituents ask of him (like closing up a statutory loophole that prevents a church getting paid for their contract to maintain a state-owned historic confederate graveyard)
  • creative ways to resolve difficult problems that might pass with some tweaks (or might be incorporated into the GOP’s legislative agenda next year, and pass that way)
  • creative ways to resolve difficult problems that have no hope of passing but deserve to be heard
  • things to open discussions that should be had (and probably have no hoping of passing)

Here’s his legislative agenda this year:
http://www.richmondsunlight.com/legislator/dlenglin/

He’s gotten a TON of media coverage for a minor bill (one of the 26  bills that he sponsored this year) directing the state to do a study of the revenue implications of legalizing marijuana and selling in the state’s ABC stores alongside alcohol. A study.

That bill falls into the category of starting a discussion that should be had with a bill that has zero hope of passing the Virginia legislature this year.

Another of his bills is a bipartisan cooperation with one of the most conservative members of the House – Delegate Ben Cline, a nice guy but David’s polar opposite on issues that have opposites – to add some accountability into the process of creating new tax credits. This bill has a better chance of passing the House, in no small part because it’s championed by a Republican in the GOP-dominated General Assembly.

David did not hold a press conference on the marijuana study bill. He did co-host a press conference with Delegate Cline on the tax code reform bill.

It’s early in the media cycle yet for coverage on the tax bill, but already there’s a clear disparity:

Coverage of the pot study bill that has ZERO chance of passing: lots and myriad. Including the front page of the Washington Post and an in-depth research piece on the Post’s Virginia blog.

Coverage of the tax accountability bill: limited, so far, but less than the pot bill had at his point in its cycle.

No surprise many people believe the system is broken and their legislatures are uselessly focused on fringe issues. If you only read the papers/online news, it would be hard to come to any other conclusion.

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My Weak Brain

The science of willpower is sobering: it turns out willpower is more or less nonexistent.

Our meagre brains have capacity for discipline on about one thing at a time. Will yourself against eating that cookie and you’re less likely to have the brainpower to write that memo you’ve been meaning to get to.

Conversely, if you’ve taxed your noggin on a difficult task your chances of resisting the temptation of that cupcake are effectively nil.

As January careens to a close and I’m looking to February’s Improving on Pretty Damn Awesome plans, I’m trying to make sure only one thing encompasses will power – just one “don’t” and no “have tos” that demand significant force of will.

It’s a thought exercise that’s leading me to a priorities crisis: what’s MOST important?

Just a couple of examples:

It turns out I love the weights workouts I added in January, so that’s not a willpower issue, but if I intend to lose the layer of, um, blubber on top of those sculpted muscles I’ll need to ditch my bread habit, probably, and that will take a tremendous amount of willpower.

Is losing the blubber more important than, say, focusing my will on resuming a daily gratitude exercise with Caleb? Remembering to do that every day will likely exhaust what scientists say is my brain’s puny capacity to reliably do something new – overpowering my will to avoid the yummy challah bread we have in the house after Shabbat. Which matters more?

Gratitude. Duh.

But will my puny brain and vanity disagree come sundress season?

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Why Do We Persist? Review of The Leftovers

If you believe the Rapture is a real thing, that good believers will be sucked up to heaven in advance of fire and brimstone raining down on the rest of us left behind, then Tom Perotta’s The Leftovers isn’t for you.

If you’ve greeted every would-be prophet’s pronouncement that the Rapture is on a given date pretty soon now with a wry smile and a thought exercise, “what if he’s not wrong this time,” then you’ll enjoy The Leftovers’ exploration of that question.

Though Perotta leaves readers in as much suspense as the books’ characters are about whether the event was in fact the Rapture, he ponders:

If people just disappeared en masse at the same moment around the world, what would happen next?

No straw men here: the people who disappeared in the Rapture-like event include the good and wicked, people of all ages and religions and of no religion.

What would happen to religious belief? Perotta paints of picture of a kind of religious revival, but not of the conventional sort.

Sects of people who believe “the disappearance” point to a hopeless, pointless future join the “Guilty Remnants” who spend their days smoking and silent, being a constant annoyance to their fellow leftovers to ensure no one forgets that everyone will come to an end soon.

Others find new saviors, like “Holy Wayne” who’s son disappeared in the Rapture-like event. He travels the country doing seminars to absorb others’ pain with hugs and grows convinced he’s destined to have another son who will be The One.

Still others try to return to normalcy, albeit a confused and unstable normal. Schools reopen, civic life reemerges (some of the book’s best segments are descriptions of city government tackling the mundane and the maudlin, consequences of the disappearances and workaday concerns of every city), and economies muddle on with a dramatically reduced workforce and consumer base.

The Rapture-like event creates markets for hucksterism; we get brief descriptions of things like lotions that promise to protect children from the next disappearance event.

Socializing takes on a fervent, desperate centrality. People in emotional crisis seek out other people.

Ultimately, Perotta’s exploration uses a dramatic Rapture-like event to focus in on a key question: why do we persist, even if the future is always an unknown?

The Leftovers is an odd book.

There are too many characters, some of them too thinly drawn. One in particular, a mother whose family we do get to know, makes choices that never makes sense in context of what Perotta tells us about her.

The mystery of the Rapture-like event is a strength of the story, and I’m not giving anything away by noting that the structure of the book reinforces the theme that we never know what’s coming next. But it’s hard to deeply care about a story that dares us to conclude that nothing really matters.

Those weaknesses notwithstanding, it’s a compelling book that’s stuck with me.

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