The News Marches On

In response to the question, “When did you start beating your wife?”, President Obama released the long form of his birth certificate to prove he could not have hit Michelle before August 4, 1961, his official birth date in Honolulu.

Now that we have settled the birther controversy, at least for those who retain some degree of sanity, Obama’s educational qualifications are the new fertilizer of Republican mudslinging. This from a political party that lionized the underachievements of George W. Bush’s academic career. Bob Schieffer of CBS News said it best last night on the network’s evening newscast with Katie Couric. Of Donald Trump’s questioning of Obama’s merits for entry into Columbia University and Harvard Law School, Schieffer said, "That's just code for saying he got into law school because he's black. This is an ugly strain of racism that's running through this whole thing.”

Reporters are supposed to refrain from dishing out opinion, but Schieffer’s bold and honest characterization of Trump and others who would support The Donald’s bigotry is to be commended and, hopefully, emulated by thought leaders in the media and politics.

Let’s hear unequivocal support for the legitimacy of the president from John Boehner, Mitch McConnell, Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh and other paragons of the right. They can challenge his policies all they want, but stirring up racial divide is not in the best interests of the country.


Cursive Class: The digital age is endangering the ability to read and write script. As related in The NY Times, precious little teaching time is spent instructing elementary school students in the art of cursive writing, of attaching rounded letters into words (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/28/us/28cursive.html?_r=1).

As I blogged last October, I’ve had a lifelong challenge reading my own handwriting. If I don’t transcribe notes soon after they’re written there’s a good chance I won’t be able to decipher them later on. My parents recognized my shortcoming. Though they steadfastly encouraged me to write better, my proficiency ended with learning the correct manner to hold a pen or pencil.

Nevertheless, I did earn an “A” in penmanship in fourth grade, much to the consternation of my parents, so much so that my father forced my mother to lodge a formal complaint during a parent-teacher meeting. Turns out the teacher based her grades on four reports we had to submit. Knowing that, I had painstakingly penned them with precision befitting a medieval monk transcribing sacred text (a real feat considering I attended a Hebrew day school).


To Serve Man: Yesterday was Administrative Professionals Day, more commonly referred to as Secretary’s Day. Having never been a coffee or tea drinker except on rare occasions, I mostly avoided the demeaning practice of having my assistant bring me hot liquid refreshment (for the record, I didn’t ask for cold sodas, either).

Regrettably, proffering coffee was accepted as part of a secretary’s job description, as noted by Lynn Peril in an Op-Ed piece in The Times. To rebel against this form of servitude could cost you your job: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/27/opinion/27peril.html.

Commerce can liberate women from traditional roles, but even business sometimes can be bound by tradition. As I wrote in March about memories of our family trip to Japan 20 years ago, women’s status there was so stunted that should the highest executive at a meeting be female, she was still expected to serve tea to all the men present. One can only hope that in the ensuing two decades that unseemly practice has been shelved (and not replaced by having a secretary do the chore).


Matzah Meal: Do birds like matzah? I’m going to find out as I’ve put leftover Passover matzah into one birdfeeder. And not just any matzah, but “shmurah matzah,” what some call the Rolls-Royce of matzah because it is made under stricter supervision than regular unleavened bread.

If they don’t like it will they turn into angry birds, purposely flying into my windows?


Royal Treatment: I can’t say I’ve been caught up in the excitement about Will and Kate’s nuptials tomorrow, though I will admit I’ve set one of our DVRs to record 6 hours of royal wedding pomp, circumstance and pageantry. Gilda and I were more invested in William’s mother’s marriage to Prince Charles, mostly because of our British friends, Dave and Gemma. Though they had already returned to London after a three-year sojourn as our neighbor when Diana joined the Windsor clan, our interest in the Mother Country remained strong.

As noted once before, Dave was a top rank tabloid journalist, with a particular knack for getting under the royal skin, especially when it came to Diana. As an editor of The Sun, Dave ran pictures of a pregnant Princess Diana at the beach (pregnant, if memory serves me correctly, with the very same William the world is now ga-ga over). Anyway, for breaching royal etiquette, The Sun was forced to apologize. Dave complied, but ran the apology alongside a copy of the picture Buckingham Palace objected to in the first place.

Some years later, as editor of The Daily Mirror, Dave authorized publication of photos showing Princess Diana exercising at a London gym. Quite scandalous, resulting in a flurry of articles on the privacy to be extended to members of the monarchy. To give Dave a taste of his own medicine, other news outlets staked out his home with round-the-clock cameras.

As befitting the queen of her household, Gemma was not amused.