Winners Wanted, Not Almost Winners

Beto O’Rourke is running for president. The ex-Democratic congressman failed in his bid last November to unseat Republican Senator Ted Cruz of Texas. Sorry, Beto, but I cannot conceive of choosing a candidate for the nation’s highest office if he could not win the support of his own state. We’ve been there before. We muddled through eight years of George W. Bush because Al Gore couldn’t carry his home state of Tennessee. Sure, Beto has more charisma than Al, but I still want a winner, not a close second, as my candidate.

I learned the other day reading a Gail Collins column on Beto that he is so enraptured with the Odyssey that he named his first child Ulysses. Which made me wonder, why didn’t he name his son Odysseus, the Greek name of the heroic character of the epic poem by Homer who spends 20 years away from home, 10 fighting the Trojan War and another 10 on an action-packed journey back to his wife, the ever faithful Penelope? Why did he choose the Roman counterpart name, Ulysses? Was he already playing identity politics because he knew there are more Italian-American voters than those of Greek ancestry? Why didn’t he just call the kid Homer? That way he’d also get the Simpsons crowd behind his candidacy.

For the record, I’m also against Stacey Abrams thinking that coming in second in a tight Georgia gubernatorial race entitles her to think she is the best choice to be the Democratic presidential nominee able to send Donald Trump and his family packing from the White House. 

Ditto for Andrew Gillum, former mayor of Tallahassee and near-winner of the governorship of Florida.  

Where do these people get their hubris? Hubris is another one of those Greek words we should all pay attention to. 

Yes, as Gillum pointed out to Bill Maher last Friday night, Abraham Lincoln failed to beat Stephen Douglas in their Senate race from Illinois back in 1857, but let’s not equate Beto or Stacey or Andrew with our 16th president. 

To Impeach or Not? People who advocate for Trump’s impeachment argue he is unqualified for the job of president. They might be right, check that, they are right, but being unqualified is not an impeachable offense. 

So let’s stop using that argument. Qualified or not, Trump received sufficient votes in states with enough Electoral College votes to win the election. 

The task now is to pick a candidate who can carry states with more than 270 electoral votes. Beto, Stacey and Andrew may excite enough voters to win some primaries but could they win a general election? I’m not convinced.

How Do I Feel? My friend Mark, who will be turning 70 in a few months, asked me the other day if I felt any difference physically now that I am into my eighth decade. Not really, I replied. As a reputed hypochondriac to friends and relatives I told Mark it was all a matter of mind over matter. 

But last night as I was waiting for sleep to overwhelm my too active brain near midnight I cataloged what had transpired since my March 6th birthday:

My dentist told me I needed two replacement crowns and a filling repair. Within a week a temporary crown he installed cracked during breakfast, necessitating a frantic dash to his office;

A prolonged head cold left me with inflamed ear canals; ear drops prescribed by an ENT specialist;

And, most troubling, for the third March in four years I am experiencing back pain near my right kidney. Four years ago I suffered with a kidney stone throughout a most unpleasant flight from London. Fortunately, the pain subsided once I showed up in the emergency room of White Plains Hospital. Exactly a year later what I thought was another kidney stone turned out to be a bladder stone. That ailment required what doctor’s call a bladder blaster procedure and an overnight hookup to a catheter. I get the heebie-jeebies just thinking of that predicament. I don’t know how this new pain will be resolved but I do marvel at its timing, always slightly past the Ides of March. 

Was this ache like the mysterious hip pain that afflicted me for about 10 minutes on my 35th birthday, or could it be traced to a muscle strained Monday morning while chopping some lingering ice along the pathway to our yard? As I lay in bed in the middle of Monday night it hurt if I faced left but not if I faced right or remained on my back. By morning the pain was mostly gone, hopefully never to return, at least for another 12 months.

New Year's Surprises and Resolutions

Have you broken your New Year’s resolutions yet? I am not in the habit of making any resolutions, not that I consider myself perfect in all ways. I just don’t see the need to focus on an arbitrary day to begin any transformative plan.

But I have been mulling a change that would affect you as well. I am considering reducing the percentage of blog posts that deal with the Trumpster. It is hard to imagine anyone who has launched more terabytes into the blogosphere but I will try my best to adhere to my resolve.

So what will I write about? Life. Just ordinary life. Take, for example, the surprise that greeted Gilda and me when we returned home from a less than 24 hour trip on Monday. The intake pipe to the master bedroom’s bathroom toilet froze during the frigid cold snap. Good thing our house has three bathrooms.

It wasn’t the first time we experienced this inconvenience since we remodeled the bathroom 13 years ago and put the toilet, and the offending pipe, up against an exterior wall (in the 20 year priors to the remodel, the pipe never froze as it was attached to an inside wall). 

Apparently, according to our plumber, frozen intake pipes next to exterior walls are a common predicament during prolonged cold snaps accompanied by high winds. All we could do, he related, is hope, and pray, the pipe wouldn’t burst while we warmed up the wall with a portable heater. After several hours we were back in business.  

More Tales From the Cold: Thursday’s “bomb cyclone” blizzard dumped eight inches on our driveway and front walk. But the high winds kept most of the snow from sticking to our solar panels. Around 4:15 pm I confronted the inevitable, suited up in snow pants, boots and balaclava and spent the next 45 minutes making sure to propel the fluffy snow in the direction of the wind. It was, actually, one of the easiest snowstorms I’ve ever had to clear.

Time to Break My Resolution: Heck, you might think I have no willpower, but keep in mind four days have gone by since the New Year began. So here are some Trumpian thoughts:

In case you haven’t heard about it, there’s an informative article in The New Yorker by Evan Osnos detailing how our bumbler-in-chief is making China great again. Here are two links, one to the print article (https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/01/08/making-china-great-again) and the second to an interview Osnos did with Terry Gross of NPR’s Fresh Air (you can either read the transcript or click on an audio link: https://www.npr.org/2018/01/03/575288560/journalist-as-u-s-retreats-from-world-stage-china-moves-to-fill-the-void).

One of my takeaways from Osnos was that we no longer have just Russia to worry about concerning the integrity of our elections. Here’s a short clip from Osnos:

“I asked a strategist in Beijing, this very prominent figure, a guy named Yan Xuetong. I said, how long does the period of strategic opportunity last for China? He says, well, it lasts as long as Trump is in office.”

Thus, not only Russia but China, as well as other countries that have stroked Trump’s ego, such as Israel, Saudi Arabia and the Philippines, have a vital national interest in keeping the dumb-as-a-loon-in-chief in office in 2020 and in retaining a Republican controlled Congress in 2018. 

Interference in our electoral processes may well become commonplace, but Trump and Attorney General Jeff Sessions are more interested in stopping state sanctioned marijuana sales than in preventing the sanctity of our most cherished right. 

News Flashes: One of New York WCBS TV’s field reporters Thursday evening confirmed that “slush is wet!” 

Does anyone else find it amusing that ABC News correspondent Eva Pilgrim reports out of Boston? 

Was anyone else surprised Gail Collins did not include any mention of Seamus, the dog Mitt Romney strapped to the top of his station wagon when taking his family on a vacation years ago, in a New York Times column about Romney’s potential candidacy for the Senate seat being vacated by Orrin Hatch? (https://nyti.ms/2E38sXV)

In Defense of Tax and Spend Liberalism

I harbor no shame in openly admitting to being an unreconstructed tax and spend liberal.

In the wake of Hurricanes Harvey and Irma I am more resolute than ever in my support of tax and spend liberalism that advocates environmental checks on growth and provides assistance from natural disasters. In the financial fallout after the hacking of 143 million accounts from Equifax I am more resolute than ever in my support of government regulations to monitor financial services companies. In the sadness evoked by the deaths of elderly residents of nursing homes in Florida during Irma, I am more resolute than ever that government regulations are vital to the health and welfare of all our citizens, particularly the most vulnerable.

I could go on citing examples of natural and man-made disasters, plus corporate greed, that command government action. We are well beyond the time when we should accept the notion that natural selection would weed out the less fortunate in our society. As the richest country on earth we should not begrudge assistance to those in need because of the vagaries of nature or the capriciousness or malfeasance of their fellow human being.

Assistance does not have to be after the fact, as when FEMA responds to floods, tornadoes or hurricanes. Proactive legislation and regulations can lessen the impact of misfortune. As Gail Collins of The New York Times recently pointed out, there’s irony in the Trump plan to dismantle government regulations.

“You don’t want all that much consistency (in presidential leadership) when you’ve got a chief executive whose recent triumph in regulatory reform was to roll back the requirement that new highways be protected against flooding — 10 days before the first hurricane,” wrote Collins.

Republicans and conservatives favor reducing taxes while spending more on defense. They want to gut regulations and assistance programs. What they fail to appreciate is that America is strongest when government cares for its people. CEO after CEO will tell you, perhaps not from their heart but they’ll tell you anyway, that their corporation’s number one asset is their people. So it stands to reason that investing in people should be the number one priority of our government.

We hear a lot about repairing our infrastructure. Fixing roads, highways, interstates, bridges, tunnels, canals, dams, mass transit systems, seaports and airports. Years of neglect have undermined our transportation network.

Yet it is equally important that we invest in the human side of our infrastructure. We need to designate money for early child care and education. We need to invest in technical schools for those who choose a path that does not include college or university. We need to make college more affordable. We need to reduce the burden of excessive student loans. 

I’m not against appropriate spending to upgrade our military. But defense spending should not be at the expense of programs to feed the hungry, to care for the infirm, to educate the young, to retrain workers whose jobs have been disintermediated or eliminated by new technologies, especially if the rollback of government funding provides tax relief to the wealthy, a cohort that surely does not need more daylight between its opulent lifestyle and those struggling to put food on their family table.

Foreign Aid: A friend wondered if the true face of the base of the Democratic Party was reflected in Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders’ call for a reassessment of U.S. aid to Israel over its policies towards the Palestinians. In fiscal 2017, Israel received $3.1 billion from Washington (https://www.timesofisrael.com/bernie-sanders-calls-for-rethink-on-us-aid-to-israel-iran-policy/).

I doubt if Sanders reflects more than a slim portion of Democratic opinion on this issue. But I am equally certain there is an impatience with the Netanyahu government, a disappointment intensely felt by all but the most Orthodox Jewish communities. 

“It is an abomination against all Jewish principles and our tragic history to accept an Israeli government that discriminates against its own citizens (both Jewish—in other words, non Orthodox—and Arab) as well as the Palestinians under its control,” I responded to him. 

“Yes, the Palestinians have been guilty of terrorism amplified by their stupidity and greedy leadership. But the failure of Likud and other right-wing parties to recognize the unacceptability of controlling the lives of millions of Palestinians reduces our ethical standing not just around the world but among fellow Jews. 

“I refuse to be part of a Jewish Bund in the diaspora. From what I’ve heard in the past so does Bernie Sanders. But I would hope that Sanders imposes equally strong demands on the Palestinians requiring them to abandon terrorism while recognizing Israel before any funds would be made available to them. And before any recognition of a Palestinian state which would have to be demilitarized and include several early warning Israeli posts.”

Swearing Allegiance: That same friend opined that “Dems just lost 2018 and 2020 elections” because “Middle America has zero sympathy for millionaire athletes” protesting during the recitation of the national anthem before sporting events. My response: 

“If Middle America loses its health care,

“If Middle America keeps seeing no increase in their living conditions including family wealth,

“If Middle America thinks Trump is placing them in physical jeopardy,

“If Middle America sees the environment, including their water supply and air quality, deteriorate,

“Democrats will win regardless of what athletes and entertainment figures say.”

From Worst Cabinet Secretaries to Monuments Supporting Upholders of Slavery

Did you see results of the unscientific poll as to whom is the worst member of Donald Trump’s cabinet?

As reported by Gail Collins in The New York Times last week, the “winner” was Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos (https://nyti.ms/2sTmSr3). 

I disagree. For me, it is a three-way tie.  

Cabinet picks are both political and enabling choices. A president selects people who supported his election and who are willing to carry out his agenda, especially if it parallels their own. 

So Betsy DeVos was a perfect choice by Trump as secretary of education. However, she is not his worst pick as she is doing exactly what she has always professed to believe. As is Scott Pruitt at EPA. 

The winners, yes winners, for worst cabinet members are Rex Tillerson at State, James Mattis at Defense and Jeff Sessions as attorney general, the first two because they have subjugated the best interests of the United States to their loyalty to an incompetent leader set on a course of destroying the credibility and standing of America throughout the world, and the third for not realizing his obligation is to be the chief legal officer of the country and defender of the Constitution and not to be the servant of a president with little or no allegiance to rights won through years of sacrifice both at home and abroad.

Tillerson, Mattis and Sessions are the true enablers of the Trump presidency. 

Trumped by Spellchecker: Having railed against spelling mistakes generated by an over-reliance on Spellchecker and a lack of proofreading context, I was hoisted on my own petard the other day. 

Spellchecker didn’t catch that I misspelled “countermand” when stating nobody is able to overrule a president’s nuclear strike order. I had written “counterman,” not countermand. 

No one advised me of my mistake except my brother who wrote, “As they say in the old country, please don’t countermand the counterman. He knows what you want to eat.”  

For me at the deli it’s usually a tongue sandwich on seeded rye with a side of cole slaw and french fries or potato knish. Washed down with either a Diet Coke or diet Dr. Brown’s black cherry soda. 

Right now I’m eating crow.

Spellchecker isn’t the only application that’s done me wrong lately. My British friend Dave Banks sent me a note, meaning to end it with a “Thanks, Mur.” When I received the email it read, “Thanks, Murban.” 

Asked, “Where the heck did Murban come from?,” Dave replied, 

“Mur!

“I wrote MUR!

“I hate predictive text!!!”

So do I.

In case you’re wondering, murban is a term for a man’s turban (http://www.refinery29.com/is-the-male-turban-becoming-a-fashion-trend?utm_source=email&utm_medium=email_share). Or it could refer to the Murban Bab Oil Field 84 kilometers northwest of Abu Dhabi Islands. 

Frosted Glasses: Another one of my early adulthood touchstones has disappeared. 

The last Lum’s restaurant, a freestanding unit in Bellevue Nebraska, outside Omaha, closed May 28 (if you’re wondering how I found out about the closing, Gilda read an article in the Omaha World-Herald. She reads it every day. It’s her way of staying current with what’s going on where Ellie, Donny and CJ live. Here’s the article that Gilda uncovered in The World-Herald: http://www.omaha.com/news/goodnews/man-who-dined-and-dashed-years-ago-sends-to-last/article_f454a6b6-55fc-11e7-821d-df15ec7c719a.html. It’s an interesting story about paying back a long-term debt.). 

It was in a Lum’s on Route 5 in Dewitt, east of Syracuse, NY, in 1971-72 that I learned to love beer served in a frosted goblet. I would go there with Steve Kreinberg, a fellow graduate student at the Newhouse School of Public Communications of Syracuse University. 

Lum’s was a chain of family restaurants whose signature dish was hot dogs cooked in beer. I preferred their basket of fried shrimp dipped in cocktail sauce, but what made a visit to Lum’s special was the frosted mugs used to serve the beer. To commemorate those days I keep a few tall glasses frosting away in the freezer. Here’s more on the history of Lum’s: http://www.democratandchronicle.com/story/news/local/rocroots/2016/11/05/whatever-happened-lums/93327386/

Monuments to an Infamous Past: During the Civil War, 11 states seceded from the Union to form the Confederacy in defense of slavery. The South has many monuments to “the cause.” Richmond, VA, is the latest city considering removing Civil War monuments from positions of prominence.

Sounds reassuring. So how do you explain that, according to USA Today, there are between “700 and possibly more than 1,000 Confederate monuments in 31 states—in public parks, courthouse squares and state capitols”?

Many, said USA Today, “were created by the United Daughters of the Confederacy, which was advancing the spurious idea that the South left the Union and fought the Civil War over states’ rights, not slavery.” (http://amp.usatoday.com/story/101870418/)

Those 20 non Confederate locations include Union states, such as “Massachusetts, Iowa and Pennsylvania and states that in 1861 were mere territories, such as Montana, Arizona and Oklahoma.”

North Carolina, once considered a template for a New South of tolerance and equality, has added 35 monuments since 2000, according to a University of North Carolina survey, USA Today reported. 

We have a long way to go as a country when we still venerate soldiers who fought to keep fellow human beings as slaves. 

Forgetting the Message Behind the Music

Another one died Wednesday.

I can’t say that as I approach my 67th birthday next month I find myself paying more attention to obituary notices. There’s no truth to the cliched joke that I check the obits each morning to make sure I am still alive. Truth is, I’ve always found the recounting of an individual’s life to be among the most fascinating and interesting articles in a newspaper. 

A few years ago, at a luncheon for mostly retired journalists eager to hear Gail Collins, an acquaintance from back in the early 1970s when her husband and I worked at The New Haven Register, I sat next to a veteran reporter from The New York Times. His career covering police and politics had downshifted to part-time work on the obit page. Most of the history of the renowned, he confirmed to me, was pre-written. Only the most recent news of the deceased required immediate input by deadlines made ever tighter because of Internet editions.

No doubt, like many of you, I’ve been startled and saddened by the seemingly weekly revelation that another icon of the rock scene of the 1960s and 1970s has passed away. Not that they were young. David Bowie was 69, Glenn Frey, 67, Paul Kantner, 74, Signe Anderson, 74, and Maurice White, who died Wednesday, was 74. To some it must have been amazing that they lasted as long as they did given the abusive lifestyle many rockers lived decades ago. 

Here’s another truth—I knew few if any of them by name (don’t fret, I knew David Bowie). Oh, I knew their groups, even sang along with many of their songs. However I would not survive the first round of a game show contest if I had to match a band’s name with a specific song.  

But ask me to identify the music from a Broadway show circa 1943-1970 and I’d possibly run the table. Perhaps that’s one reason I so enjoyed Ellie’s star turns in musical theater productions during her teen years, though the plays she performed in were written later than my sweet spot years.

I’m not trying to be sentimental in my appreciation of the music of the deceased and nearly so. Read Timothy Egan’s genre eulogy instead: http://nyti.ms/1UPVA9J.

If you must mourn, lament members of a generation now in their middle age who have forgotten the message behind much of the music of their youth. Love, peace, tolerance, equality. Instead, too many have embraced the message of anger and exclusion espoused by Ted Cruz and Donald Trump.

I get it. Not everyone was a liberal back in the 1960s. But there outta be a law, or at least an admonition—you can only listen to someone’s music if you share their values. I’m okay not playing Ted Nugent. Let’s check the playlists on Cruz’s and Trump’s iPhones. And those of Marco Rubio, Carly Fiorina, Mike Huckabee, Rick Santorum, Jeb Bush, Chris Christie and Rick Perry, as well.

Spring Thoughts Mean Only One Thing

If near-40-year-old Andy Pettitte can attempt a comeback to the rigors of major league baseball with the NY Yankees after being retired one year, perhaps there’s reason to believe I can return to the pitching mound after a three-year hiatus from Sunday morning fast-pitch softball.

I’m not sure our temple team needs a 63-year-old pitcher, but our 64-year-old hurler jumped ship, signing with another squad. So there may be an opening if none of the younger arms proves reliable. Over my near 30-year softball career, reliable would be a good descriptor of my performance. I wasn’t the best pitcher in the league, but I was among the most consistent, almost always keeping our team competitive. Before I joined, the team would lose by double-digit scores as the pitcher, Mike, simply lobbed the ball over. While we still lost most of our games during my first season, the scores were much closer. Mike, however, was not a happy teammate. He protested his demotion to the bench, appealing to the leadership of the temple Brotherhood, the sponsor of the team. Sadly, they suggested to Mike it was time to hang up his spikes. He chose, instead, to switch temples, though his misfortunes continued on his new team and it, too, told him to ride the pines.

I retired three years ago when I was no longer the starting pitcher and couldn’t justify waking up early Sunday mornings from April through October. I’m still not sure the warmth and comfort of our bed won’t seduce me into staying home (this morning, for example, I rolled out of bed at 10:30), but I’m getting that old excitement back. Yesterday I even bought new cleats (just in case) and tried on my old uniform; it fit perfectly, with no tugging at the waist of the pants. Actually, I rarely wore baseball pants, preferring to pitch in shorts. To say my “chicken legs” weren’t a distraction to batters would be disingenuous, but hey, you’re allowed to try any legal means of changing the focus of the opposition. I also checked my glove to make sure the lacing was in good order. In short, I’m ready for a season with players almost all of whom are closer to my son’s age (33) than mine. First practice is in a week or two, first game April 22. Hopefully, I won’t get hurt.


I ventured back in time in a different way on Thursday, attending a luncheon of the Society of the Silurians at the Players Club on Gramercy Park in Manhattan to hear the featured speaker, Gail Collins, Op-Ed columnist for The NY Times, and an acquaintance going back more than 35 years to our days in New Haven when her husband, Dan, and I worked at the New Haven Register. (The Silurians, by the way, is an organization of veteran New York City journalists founded in 1924. As previously mentioned, I’m 63. With very few exceptions, I was the youngest in the room of 150, a record attendance, there to hear Gail talk about her career and her thoughts on politics of the day. Even society president Tony Guida, distinguished looking at 70 with a full head of coiffed, silver hair, couldn’t avoid noting the age of the assembled when he asked for all cell phones, beepers, pagers and pacemakers to be turned off prior to Gail’s presentation.)

Gail didn’t disappoint, regaling all with stories of her days as a Connecticut state capitol reporter before coming to New York in 1980. We took a few minutes before and after her talk to catch up. The only disappointment was Dan and another New Haven alum, Trish Hall, now Op-Ed editor of The Times, weren’t in attendance. But I did sit next to Times reporter Robert D. McFadden, a spry 50-year veteran of the paper, whose main assignment these days is writing pre-obituaries of the noteworthy and famous.

By the way, anyone who has followed Gail’s columns on Mitt Romney knows she always includes a reference to the star-crossed family trip to Canada when Mitt boxed the family Irish setter, Seamus, in a crate atop the station wagon as he, his wife and their five boys rode inside. Seamus eventually developed diarrhea, forcing Romney to make an unscheduled stop to hose down the dog and crate but not allow any of the humans to relieve themselves. Gail maintained Romney’s behavior provides insight into his character. Nevertheless, she indicated when the primaries are over she will retire Seamus from her columns. I’m not so sure, if Romney winds up securing the Republican presidential nomination. We’ll just have to wait and see.


After the luncheon and a quick stop at Gilda’s office on Union Square, I was off to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the “The Renaissance Portrait from Donatello to Bellini,” an exhibit I highly recommend but alas is closing today. One thing struck me among the painted portraits—several of the 15th century profiles of men looked vaguely familiar in their headdress. It was not until later that evening when watching the evening news that I realized the turbaned men hanging on the walls of the Met bore a striking resemblance to the millinery styles of the men of present day Afghanistan.


Saturday was Gilda’s birthday, her 63rd. Don’t worry. Gilda has no qualms about revealing her age. Indeed, she is vastly amused when people guess she is 20, even 30, years younger. Not wanting to jostle the crowds of St. Patrick’s Day, we spent a peaceful day together. Today we will tour the annual orchid show at the Bronx Botanical Gardens and then head off to Brooklyn where Ellie and Donny will prepare a birthday feast of one of Gilda’s favorite foods—fried chicken.

GOP Dilemma: Party or Country First?

Florida Republicans will troop to the polls Tuesday (ok, maybe some of them will roll in wheelchairs or shuffle along using walkers, while others drive in pick-up trucks with gun racks) to provide the latest answer to a dilemma facing their counterparts across the country—are they more interested in choosing a presidential standard bearer who could attract a spectrum of support among independents and even some Democrats, or are they more interested in ideological conservative purity deeply tinged with personal and emotional failings?

Polls show Mitt Romney comfortably ahead of Newt Gingrich by double digit figures. The perception of electability, along with confidence he would not be as divisive as Gingrich, his business background and his stain-free past (other than, in the repetitive refrain of Gail Collins of the NY Times, driving to Canada for a vacation with his dog strapped to the roof of the family car) make Romney a formidable challenger to President Obama’s re-election. True, there’s not much passion behind his candidacy, but it’s rare to see an automaton provoke deep feelings in humans.

Gingrich, on the other hand, stirs emotions. He is the personification of the “tumulter,” a term from many languages identifying someone who thrives on “the commotion or agitation of a multitude, usually accompanied with great noise, uproar, and confusion of voices; hurly-burly; noisy confusion.”

The former House speaker says he will stay in the race all the way to the GOP convention (or, more realistically, until the Adelsons stop funding his campaign). If he continues to rile up the conservative base against Romney he’ll be doing double-barreled damage. First, he’ll be providing fodder to Obama’s campaign. There’s nothing better than using fellow Republican smears to smear your Republican opponent in the general election. Obama benefits regardless of who becomes the GOP nominee.

Second, and perhaps more troubling for Romney, will be the cumulative effect on the hard-core right wing of the Republican/Tea Party. Will arch conservatives, evangelical Christians, have enough passion (read that, hatred) in their hearts against Obama to swallow hard, hold their noses and vote for Romney if he’s the candidate, or will they stay home?

Back in 1964, moderate Republicans abandoned the party’s nominee, Barry Goldwater, and voted for President Lyndon Johnson. In 1968, lots of disaffected Democrats failed to rally in time to Vice President Hubert Humphrey, letting Richard Nixon eke out a narrow victory. In 1976, President Gerald Ford couldn’t command enough Ronald Reagan-inspired conservatives to beat back a challenge by Jimmy Carter. Vice President Al Gore couldn’t attract enough of Ralph Nader’s ardent environmental supporters nationwide in 2000 to prevent George W. Bush from eventually getting the keys to the White House handed to him by the U.S. Supreme Court after the hanging chad fiasco in Florida.

Nothing will be decided tomorrow except who gets Florida’s 50 convention votes. But the size of Gingrich’s tally might provide an indication of how strong the anti-Romney sentiment is and whether the GOP in the fall will be able to mount a full-frontal, broadly coordinated assault on the White House’s current occupant.

Politics, As Usual and Unusual

You might have noticed I’ve taken a short hiatus from political commentary. It’s hard, repetitive work continually finding fault with politicians. Look what Gail Collins of the NY Times has to do—each time she writes about Mitt Romney she has to figure out some way to include the fact he strapped the family dog to the roof of the car when he took his family on a vacation to Canada. If I were paid to write about politics, I’m sure my keyboard would be ablaze with fiery ire. But since this is just an avocation. I’m trying to keep my biases in check. At least for the short term.

Speaking of my biases, I’m against men showing skin when they cross their legs. So it was comforting to see President Obama learned his lesson and wore appropriate high socks during his Sunday 60 Minutes interview. Correspondent Steve Croft, on the other hand, exposed his shins to America. Disgusting.

(Real long-time readers of this blog might recall one of my earliest posts railed against the “shins of the president.” As it’s a short entry, I won’t make you click a link to it, I’ll just reproduce it here:

“Now a word about proper sock length. Watching a clip Sunday of Barack Obama on "This Week With George Stephanopoulos," I was struck by the fashion no-no displayed by the president. Sitting with his legs crossed, Obama showed viewers several inches of bare skin where his pants leg did not meet the top of his socks. It is inexcusable, it’s a fashion faux pas, especially considering his wife’s keen fashion sense, that the commander-in-chief of the United States does not wear knee-high socks when he is dressed up. Indeed, anyone, anyone who is in politics, in business or in any way in a public situation, should wear knee-high socks. There is nothing appealing or sexy about seeing a man’s shin-bone skin. Bottom line—if you’re going to wear socks, make sure they cover all of your lower leg. Here’s hoping someone in the White House reads this before Obama’s appearance on Letterman tonight.”)

Someone with sartorial sense and a keen eye must have gotten to Obama.


My “vacation” from political writing has coincided with the ascent of Newt Gingrich as a key player in the Republican presidential sweepstakes. How interesting that many evangelicals and other supposedly values-oriented religious voters have made light of Gingrich’s rather sordid past. They’ve thrown their support to the twice-divorced former speaker of the House. They’ve chosen to ignore his abandonment of the Protestant religion in favor of Catholicism. They’ve accepted his admission of past sins, even the one where he told a previous wife he was leaving her while she suffered from cancer. They don’t hold it against him that he twice (at least) had affairs while married, that he hypocritically tried to impeach Bill Clinton for actions from inappropriate extra-marital sexual activity while he himself was guilty of the same vice. How beguiling that he ignored one of Jesus’ most famous precepts, “Judge not lest ye be judged.”

But then, it is hard to fathom an electorate blind to the failings of their anointed leaders. Ronald Reagan impregnated Nancy Davis before they were married. Not to be outdone, Democrats stood by Clinton and John F. Kennedy. It’s only when they flaunt their improprieties, as Gary Hart did, or try to cover them up, as John Edwards did, that voters rebuff them. Gingrich, with his deep, stentorian tones, has embraced his imperfections, has recanted his sins, so attractive to an evangelical community that sees salvation in faith by atonement.

What they don’t see is how destructive GOP policies on health care, unemployment compensation, pollution, education support and other social issues have been and would be to the family. There can be honest disagreement over abortion rights, but when did the Bible lose its compassion for the poor, for the downtrodden, for the orphaned? When did it become religiously acceptable for the community to abandon the less fortunate? When did the Bible end its advocacy that the rich take care of the needy? The Bible is not a capitalist manifesto. If anything, it is a social contract where those better off are instructed to help the rest of society.

Perhaps if they studied which political ideology has time and again worked to make life easier and more comfortable for the vast majority of our nation, and not an exceedingly small sliver, they will rethink their support for those who would strip away benefits from the masses while safeguarding the treasures of millionaires and billionaires.


If Only He Had Taken the Bet....I’d be $10,000 richer. Like Mitt Romney during Saturday night’s Republican presidential candidate debate with Rick Perry, I proffered a $10,000 bet, the subject of which was, who hosted the mid-1950s CBS TV show, You Are There?. My adversary, a much smarter fellow than I, whose adult education class I attend, and who shall remain nameless so as not to embarrass him, said it was Edward R. Murrow. He said he had tapes at home with Murrow as the host.

I, on the other hand, vividly remember the host being Walter Cronkite. One of my earliest TV memories is watching You Are There. Cronkite would relate the background for the half hour program that recreated historical events as if they were developing news stories, then place an earphone to the side of his head while intoning, “You are there.” The show’s dramatization of the David and Goliath story stays with me even to this day. At least in my mind’s eye, the climactic scene begins with David reciting the 23rd psalm as he walks out to confront Goliath.

Google “You Are There Walter Cronkite” if you need validation of my claim. Murrow, it turns out, hosted another show, See It Now, a newsmagazine and documentary series, also on CBS.

Catching Up On My Reading

Sometimes I feel there’s just too much stuff to read. I marvel at those who have the time, perhaps I’m really envious of their inclination, to read books and magazines and newspapers and blogs and, oh, you get the picture. I thought today I’d comment on some articles of recent and not so recent vintage:

Earlier this month (Nov. 6) the NY Times magazine section did a short blurb on Switzerland joining other European countries and San Francisco in passing a law making it illegal to own just one guinea pig. Seems the critters are gregarious and prone to loneliness if they don’t have a mate, same sex or not, so the law is intended to avoid animal cruelty. I wonder if the writer, Jacob Goldstein, is aware that in her early journalism career Gail Collins, the paper’s Op-Ed columnist, and her husband Dan Collins, kept two guinea pigs. They named the fur balls Lionel and Stewart, after the owners of the New Haven Register, Lionel Jackson, and his son, Stewart. Dan and I were both reporters for the Register. Gail, at the time, ran an independent news service covering the Connecticut state legislature.


Spare the Rod: The next day The Times ran a story on the merits, and dangers, of spanking children. Followers of a Bible-belting (pun intended) preacher, Michael Pearl, have been accused of going too far in their administration of corporal punishment, resulting in the deaths of several children (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/07/us/deaths-put-focus-on-pastors-advocacy-of-spanking.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=michael%20pearl&st=cse).

I was spanked as a young child. My rump felt the wrath of my parents’ hands when I misbehaved. My father threatened to use a belt, but never did. Merely unfastening his belt produced the desired effect from me and my siblings.

In justifying their physical discipline regimen, Pearl’s adherents often cite the Bible (“He that spareth his rod hateth his son”). Of course, many choose to focus on more tolerant and loving prescriptions from Scriptures. They recognize that some passages, such as the admonition to stone a stubborn and rebellious son at the gates of the city, are no longer acceptable behavior, unless you’re a Taliban or some other Islamic fanatic.

As for my two children, I don’t ever remember spanking them.

Payback Time: For all those NY Jets fans who disapproved of my schadenfreude moment when their team lost to the lowly Denver Broncos last Thursday, Sunday night was their moment of gleeful revenge as my NY Giants played ineptly in losing to the down and hopefully not resuscitated Philadelphia Eagles.

No Deal: It appears at this writing the Congressional supercommittee charged with finding a deficit reducing formula has been unable to accomplish its mission. Each side points to the recalcitrance of the other to compromise. Congress no longer is an institution where priority is given to the people’s business. Rather, members are more concerned with ideological purity and their ability to win re-election.

No less an observer than former Republican Senate majority leader Bill Frist was quoted in The Times on Saturday thusly: “There was much more willingness (in the past) to reach across the aisle in a bipartisan manner for the good of the country as opposed to the next election.”


Black eyed Friday: USA Today, among others, is reporting a backlash by consumers and store personnel against retail companies that will be opening for business on Thanksgiving (http://content.usatoday.com/communities/ondeadline/post/2011/11/black-friday-employees-push-back/1?csp=hf). Just remember—I was among the first to rant against this despicable and demeaning practice (http://nosocksneededanymore.blogspot.com/2011/11/cain-not-able.html).


What Would John Hughes Say? USA Today reported over the weekend the increase in high schools doing away with student lockers (http://www.usatoday.com/news/education/story/2011-11-14/schools-lockers-safety/51205848/1). Don’t these well-meaning school administrators know they could be stifling the creative juices of the next film chronicler of American youth?


Learning the Trade: Sunday’s Times carried a story on the poor job law schools are doing preparing graduates for real world lawyering (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/20/business/after-law-school-associates-learn-to-be-lawyers.html?_r=1). I’m not a lawyer, but I can relate to the predicament new attorneys face learning their trade.

After earning a master’s degree in newspaper journalism, I thought I was qualified to be a reporter. Until, that is, I covered my first Board of Selectmen meeting in Seymour, Conn., for the New Haven Register. Oh, I easily followed the reports on requests for more sewer lines and the need to replace police cars. But I was confounded (perhaps even dumbfounded) when the discussion turned to the town’s budget. The selectmen kept talking about “mill rates,” not a term ever mentioned in any of my journalism classes (by the way, my professors also never told us what a selectman was).

It was only when the selectmen excused the reporters present for a short period while they discussed in executive session some personnel matters that I was instructed in the finer points of Connecticut town finances by my kindly competitor from the Ansonia Sentinel. Property taxes on buildings, motor vehicles and other major capital goods such as boats funded town finances. Assessments were based on the value of property. The tax per dollar of assessed value was expressed in the mill rate. One mill was one-tenth of a cent ($0.001). Each governing municipality set its own mill rate every year based on the community’s overall budget needs. If Seymour had a mill rate of 20, for example, a house valued at $200,000 would be taxed at $4,000. If the town had to spend more money the following year for new police cars and other projects, the mill rate might jump to 23, meaning the taxes on that $200,000 home rose to $4,600.

It was all Greek to me that night, but it quickly taught me real-life reporting was much more mundane and complicated than the glorified depictions seen in the movies and on the nightly news.

Connected Success

Howard Schultz has been on a media sprint. Celebrating the 40th anniversary today, March 30, of his company, Starbucks, Schultz in the last few days has been interviewed on 60 Minutes by Katie Couric, on NPR by Leonard Lopate, and even had a write-up in The Costco Connection, that retailer’s lifestyle magazine for its members. Aside from the anniversary to celebrate, there’s the performance and stock price rebound of the last two years, ever since he returned as CEO of the Seattle-based company. How better to spout his business philosophy and executive skills than to write a book about it, Onward: How Starbucks Fought for Its Life Without Losing Its Soul.

That’s where my connection comes in. I’m not a coffee drinker, so my visits to Starbucks have been mostly to accompany java addicts on their habitual rounds. My connection goes deeper than a grande cup of Sumatra beans. Schultz’s co-author of Onward is Joanne Gordon. Joanne worked for me in 1998 fresh out of Northwestern University’s master’s program at the Medill School of Journalism.

Now, I can hardly take lots of credit for her success during her diverse writing career, including five other books. Joanne’s tenure at Chain Store Age lasted about a year, until she was able to secure what she really wanted, a position on Forbes. Still, there’s something to be said about vicariously enjoying the success of one’s former staffers, if for no other reason than a validation of your own keen eye for talent.

Over the years I prided myself in selecting not just good writers and salespeople, but more importantly, women and men who appreciated the value of teamwork over ego and who, when the opportunity arose, could lead their own staffs. I trained some 20 staff members to assume executive positions in the editorial and publishing sides of the business within my former company and even among our competitors. For the record, I never disparaged or resented any of the competitors I trained. I’d explain to any editorial source or advertising account that personally I always preferred dealing with originals, not carbon copies.

I’m proud my alumni include the deputy managing editor of Fortune, the former managing editor/executive editor of Crain’s New York Business, a former columnist for Seventeen magazine, the former publisher of Advertising Age, and editors or publishers of several retail industry publications.

I also take some pride in being part of a group of New Haven journalists of the early 1970s to make it big in the Big Apple. I followed Dan Collins as a beat reporter in Shelton, Conn., for The New Haven Register. Dan is a senior producer for CBSNews.com. Dan’s wife, Gail Collins, is a columnist for The New York Times. Back in our New Haven days, Gail ran her own news service covering state politics. Dan and Gail kept two pet guinea pigs named for the owner of The Register and his son, Lionel and Stewart (Jackson). While I worked on the afternoon paper, Trish Hall worked on The Journal-Courier, the morning paper. Trish is now Op-Ed editor for The New York Times.

It’s fulfilling, and somewhat humbling, to share these connections. And then there are the unusual associations with past staffers.

A few years ago while watching the news about a gas explosion at a house in New Jersey, I bolted up straight in my seat when the reporter named the homeowner. Jeff MacCallum had worked for me as an editor 10 years earlier. A former military man, Jeff and his bride walked down the aisle under crossed swords.

Remember the Dustin Hoffman movie Hero? Flanked by Dan and Ellie in a movie theater, I nearly jumped out of my seat when I spotted one of my Chicago salesmen at the focal point of the crowd scene where they are searching for the Cinderfella hero of the plane crash rescue to match the shoe he left behind. Larry Rivkin had answered a casting call for extras. Not only was Larry in the scene, but the camera actually zoomed in on him.

Cameras have repeatedly zoomed in on another ex-staffer, Brad Altman, from Los Angeles. And why not. Brad and actor George Takei were the first gay couple to receive a marriage license in the City of West Hollywood. They were married in 2008. For those not familiar with George Takei, he played Sulu in the original Star Trek TV series.