Soon the Olympics will color my television screen, a relief and an acknowledgement of the wonder of snow and ice (spelled without capital letters) in states such as Minnesota, a state the president hates as much as he lusts after Greenland. Neither makes sense.
But it is January, named after the Greek god Janus, depicted as double faced with one face looking back, the other forward, a time when nothing is set, when there is no normal, when nothing fits. The only thing that resonates is the current chaos: masked thugs in the streets, people shot going about their normal days, people dragged out of their beds into freezing weather, politicians who lie, call names, make threats, the fascist-in-chief acting the part of a spoiled brat.
Today my income tax forms arrived. This may be hard to believe, but I have ever been proud to pay taxes because they help everyone. Alone, I could not build roads or schools or legal systems or any of the democracy I so love. People may complain about taxes but they too could not live comfortably without a tax system. I love my country. I love flush toilets. I love electricity. I help pay the bills.
However, for the first time in my 73 tax-paying years I do not want to pay. I do not want to support the wanton activities of a fascistic president. I do not want to contribute to tearing down 250 years of government as well the east wing of the White House. I do not want to contribute to nation grabbing, to masked thugs killing and deporting without due process, to pay to have my own country ruined. I do not want to pay for all the grotesque gold hanging on the walls and covering the bathrooms in “the people’s house.”
I do not want to contribute this year. I cannot be a conscientious objector because I am far beyond military age, but I do conscientiously object. And equally as conscientiously I offer solutions to the Greenland Issue that seems to have taken over the president’s senses.
The first solution, perhaps based on an old tale, would be to imitate Illinois Senator James Shields who in 1842 challenged Abraham Lincoln to a dual. Lincoln had been making fun of him, another thin-skinned politician.
Lincoln, the challenged, was allowed to pick the weapons. Supposedly, he chose “Cow chips at twenty paces.” The actual dual was called off. I cannot imagine the fascist-in-chief touching a cow chip but he could substitute gold coins and challenge Denmark. He would be on worldwide networks, recognized for his athletic abilities, and maybe given a special Peace token, gold of course.
The second solution I offer comes as a barter, a method of commerce as old as mankind. Greenland’s size is three times that of Texas: if we start with Minnesota and add South Dakota, (not North Dakota because he lusts after oil just as he does after gold) Illinois, Wisconsin, and Nebraska the land mass would be somewhat equal and a good trade.
Democrats would become Danes, free from fascism. The only addition to the trade would be a six-month period for anyone to move to these states to be able to live a proud and peace-loving life.
The third solution I offer is that which brought to an end a 40-year war between Canada and Denmark. This was a long yet bloodless war not covered by any press.
Go north on the map of Canada until you find the Baffin Sea between Greenland and Canada. In this sea sits Hans Island long ignored by either country until 1984 when Denmark claimed it and raised its flag.
Some years later, intrepid Canadians sighted the flag, took it down, and ran up the Maple Leaf. Danes followed suit. Back and forth without a shot fired.
Eventually, the Canadians ran up their flag and left large bottles of whiskey at the foot of the pole. Danes then exchanged flags with bottles of schnapps included. Back and forth, until the countries raised their glasses and settled the dispute in 2022.
The island now has a line down the middle, the official boundary between the countries. The war, known as the “Whiskey War,” is acclaimed for its bloodless success, its diplomatic sophistication, its tariff-free drinks.
I’m not certain where such a line might be drawn to the satisfaction of the fascist-in-chief but there must be a golf course, a golden bathroom, a tall building, a cognitive test, a shiny trinket, something smaller than Greenland that might satisfy his unreasonable hatred for Minnesota and his penchant for grabbing.
In this difficult first month of 2026, I maintain belief in the America leading up to the last election and my plan to vote in the next. I will pay my taxes while inundated with years of wise advice that funding the problem will not solve the problem.