The War of 1812 and other pressing topics

four into the Coronavirus crisis, and I’m determined not to write about it this time. Writing about anything other than the spread of the worldwide virus has been my goal for a while now, as well as that of fellow Levison Group columnists Kramer, Farris and Berry. It’s just flat-out hard to avoid writing about a virus that was unexpected, dominates the news, limits our day-to-day life experiences that often feed creative fires and is both insidious and mysterious — given that nobody can get their facts or predictions straight about it. The pandemic was not part of anyone’s long-range plan, although in retrospect maybe it should have been. But, I’m not writing about that.

Recently, fellow columnist Charles Kramer wrote about Albert Spaggiari. Kramer claimed he wrote about Spaggiari because it was the 21st anniversary of the man’s death — a death that meant the bounty from the famous Société Générale Bank heist would never be found. I suspect, however, Charles really wrote about Spaggiari because it was a topic other than COVID-19. And again, I’m not writing about the virus. In any event, because Charles wrote about the Spaggiari caper, I decided to write about the War of 1812.

You may be wondering: Why the War of 1812? Well, I heard it mentioned on a rerun of “The Wonder Years,” and besides, it’s a slighted war that most Americans don’t know much about, and what they think they know might not be correct. After all, consider the fuss about the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, World Wars I and II, and the Vietnam War. When was the last time you saw a new book, a documentary or feature film about the War of 1812? So there you have it.

To begin, I should tell you that the War of 1812, despite its descriptive name, was not a one-year war. The War of 1812 was also a war of 1813, 1814 and 1815. Certainly, the Battle of New Orleans is something some of us remember hearing about, if only from the Johnny Horton song of the same title and its lyrics: “Old Hickory said we can take ’em by surprise, if we didn’t fire our muskets ’til we looked ’em in the eyes.” The war ended a few weeks after that battle, and America declared itself victorious.

Although we don’t know much about the war, some argue it had to be fought to cement our independence from the British, and that we kicked Redcoat butt when we signed the Treaty of Ghent to end the War of 1812 on Feb. 18, 1815. In truth, it was a battle about perceived British infringement upon U.S. maritime rights, and some argue it was about attempts to annex Canada.

We all know that history is a relatively subjective recordation, but I believe it to generally reveal that we didn’t actually win any new water rights, and we certainly didn’t capture Canada. In retrospect, it would have been a nice state. There are nevertheless a few things we, or at least some of us, fondly remember in respect to that glorious war — such as the “rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air” over Fort McHenry, as witnessed by 35-year-old, attorney-turned-lyricist Francis Scott Key.

So, having now written about the War of 1812 and not about the pandemic of 2020, I’m feeling satisfied but not elated. It seems as though I should write more about what’s been happening lately that is not related to the coronavirus.

Periodically there has been clamor to change the face on our $20 bill, and it has arisen again. There is a movement afoot to make it a woman, but so far our president has adamantly insisted on keeping Old Hickory, the star of the Battle of New Orleans, on the $20. I think part of it is that Andrew Jackson was an interloper and rabble-rouser upon the American political scene, not totally unreminiscent of President Trump. Maybe someday his face will be on our $20 bill?

I, and maybe you, have been staying at home a lot lately and using Instacart for food delivery. I had never done that before, and it’s kind of convenient, but I can’t say much more about it because I’ve switched to grocery delivery for reasons I am not writing about.

Earlier this year, I wrote in a column about a trip I had taken to Cuba. I brought back lots of Cuban cigars. I’m still smoking them in my backyard and at cigar and whiskey parties, but the parties are sadly confined to one or two other aficionados. You know why that is, but I’m not going to write about that, either.

Speaking of cigars and whiskey, I was recently able to redo the kitchen and bathroom in my carriage house. It provided a job for a contractor to work on premises removed from everybody else. (We know why that’s important these days, but we’re not going to talk about it.) My vision of the redesigned carriage house kitchen/bathroom was the atmosphere of a wilderness hunting or fishing lodge in which Ernest Hemingway would have been roughing it in Kenya or Cuba. I think it worked out pretty well. I’m putting the final touches on it now, adding a few fishing hooks, old guns and pictures of such interesting people as Hemingway, Ernesto “Che” Guevara and me.

The truth is, there’s just not much — legal or otherwise — to write about these days. Heck, the courts are shut down. There’s talk of no civil trials until 2022. That means I may be spending a lot more time writing about the details of the War of 1812. Perhaps I can analyze Jackson’s battle plan?

There are, of course, ongoing boring discussions about who Joe Biden is going to pick for his running mate, but the truth is, the topic of vice presidents is pretty ho-hum. People vote for presidents, not vice presidents — although given the age of the current president and the past vice president, perhaps that should change. I wonder if I should interview them for my next column to see what they remember about the War of 1812?

© 2020 Under Analysis LLC. Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. Mark Levison is a member of the law firm Lashly & Baer P.C. Contact Mark by e-mail at [email protected]