Spoiler Alert and Snowmageddon Update

Spoiler Alert: Former New York City mayor and billionaire Michael Bloomberg is considering an independent run for the presidency.

Can he win? If not, who might benefit from his third party candidacy?

The New York Times says Mayor Mike might jump into the race if Donald Trump or Ted Cruz captured the Republican Party nomination and if Bernie Sanders secured the Democratic nod. Or if he believes Hillary Clinton is too damaged to win the general election after winning her party’s nomination.

Doubtful Bloomberg could win outright. His pro-choice and anti-gun stances make him an unlikely choice in most southern and western states that generally vote Republican. He would have to lock up all the true blue states Democrats usually secure and some swing states, such as Ohio and Florida. That would be hard even against a weakened Hillary. Splitting the vote with Hillary would shift those states into the GOP column.

Best case prospectus is that none of the three major candidates would garner the required 270 Electoral College votes to be named president, thus throwing the decision into the House of Representatives where each state delegation gets to cast one vote. Such an event would be more traumatic than the 2000 election decided by the Supreme Court. 

If enough state delegations controlled by Republicans are turned off by the prospect of a Trump or Cruz presidency, Bloomberg just might squeeze into the White House, but that’s a real far-fetched scenario. What probably would happen is that Republicans would believe they wouldn’t be able to control Bloomberg so they’d take their chances with Trump or Cruz.

It must be nice to have a billion dollars available for an independent run to save the country from itself. If Bloomberg were running as the standard bearer of either the Democratic or Republican party I would seriously consider voting for him. But as an independent, he’d be a spoiler, not just in the election but for the country he so very much wants to save.  

Snowmageddon Update: During Saturday’s snowstorm I asked Gilda if she were pregnant. She laughed, knowing I was referring to her puttering around the house, cleaning the front of our stand-alone freezer, reorganizing the pantry, and in general engaging in nesting activities commonly associated with child-bearing time.

Outside our side yard windows where I have hung bird feeders, stocked Friday with extra seed, there was a frenzy of activity. Blazingly red cardinals, bright blue jays, red bellied and downy woodpeckers, along with female cardinals and lots of chickadees and sparrows—nearly 50 in all—competed for access. Surprisingly, few squirrels roamed the top of the snow looking for spilled seed. 

One of our patio tables had a mound of snow close to a foot high. The other, more exposed to the wind, was covered by less than an inch. 

I ventured into the mud room. Gilda had thrown out nearly half of the literature (my biased word for the assortment of paper reminders and magnetized business cards) that has obscured the front of the freezer for decades, literally decades. She was obsessed with cleaning. I’m a hoarder. We engaged in civil, comical discussion. Why, she wanted to know, would I keep outdated MetroNorth train schedules when it’s easier to look up online current timetables? Why? Because I’m a hoarder. 

Don’t get the impression I just sat around doing nothing. I did two loads of laundry. 

During a lull in the blizzard around 3 pm I spent 45 minutes clearing the driveway and front walkway. Nine inches of soft powder, good for snowblowing, bad for snowball making, had fallen. Truth be told, the real reasons I went outdoors was to see if The Times had been delivered (it had) and to replenish the bird feeders.  

No sooner did I sit down to input my toil in this blog but Gilda informed me the buzzer had sounded—it was time to take my clothing out of the dryer. I tell you, there’s no end to a man’s work around the house.

In case you’re wondering, the snow blocked out any energy production from our solar panels. 

Health Notes

Gilda’s far more well-read than I. She absorbs books, magazines, newspapers and Web sites at a prodigious rate. She finds way more articles than I do to pass on to her mate, especially ones on exercise, diet and health. I’m forever fed a full plate of ways to improve myself—less red meat, more exercise, more fruits and vegetables, more exercise, fewer sweets, even those with sugar-substitutes, more exercise. 

Naturally, I relish the few instances when I can defend my almost indefensible (prone) position of non-activity. Two months ago I forwarded to her an article from the NY Times on a study of how statins can cause muscle aches and fatigue. The Times said the effects may be especially pronounced in people who exercise. As I take Simvastatin to reduce my cholesterol level, I found comfort in the study. Of course, the study subjects were rats, but I’ve been called worse, so I identified with the results. 

Today, The Times front-paged more anti-exercise ammunition. “For Some, Exercise May Increase Heart Risks, Researchers Find,” screamed the headline (http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/05/30/can-exercise-be-bad-for-you/?ref=health). The article suggested 10% of the population may fall under this risk classification. Not that I’m desirous of being susceptible to increased heart risk, but there’s no reason to tempt the Fates by openly inviting their wrath through exercise. Naturally, I sent the article along to Gilda. 

Another Times article today discussed the reluctance of patients to talk about their conditions with their physicians (http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/). I generally don’t have that problem. Indeed, Gilda tells me I am too loquacious, providing extraneous data, at least in her view as a medical professional (a nurse practitioner). Could be I’m camouflaging my anxiety by talking too much. 

Anyway, my next annual physical is tomorrow. My blood work is generally good—cholesterol down to 165; HDL 41, LDL 79. Triglycerides, while still above normal, are 31% lower than six months ago. Still have to work to reduce my blood sugar levels, though. 

Here’s a headline from today I really like: “Murray Fights Through the Pain to Advance.” It’s over an article about Andy Murray advancing to the third round of the French Open despite back and leg ailments. As anyone who has played ball with me knows, I’m always complaining about sore knees, sore Achilles tendons and lower back pain. I play through it all, as well, though I don’t always win. By the way, in games I have pitched in so far this year, including a nine-inning stint a week ago, our softball team is 2-1 (overall, 2-2). 

It’s been months since I tried to see a free movie on a Tuesday. But with a new flick out titled “Bernie,” my brother’s name, I was compelled to try the other day. I arrived half an hour before the 4:10 pm showing, but the film, starring Shirley MacLaine and Jack Black, was sold out. “Sold out” is really a euphemism for senior citizens and the unemployed taking advantage of free film cards they get as part of our cable company triple-play package. “Bernie” is about a mortician who befriends a wealthy, nasty old lady in Texas who he eventually kills and stuffs into a freezer on her property. It’s based on a true story. I’m hoping it will be at least as entertaining as “Weekend at Bernie’s.” 

Speaking of my brother, he and wife Annette just returned from Vietnam, a side trip from a visit to Hong Kong. My sister Lee and husband David toured Vietnam two years ago when their son Jonathan was working in Singapore. I’m a little envious of these trips. Now, that is. I could easily have preceded them to Vietnam 40 years ago had I passed my draft physical. As I previously wrote, I flunked my physical by being underweight, the first time in my life I ever was proud of my physique. 

Here’s another sign the NY Yankees of 2012 are a shell of their former selves. Despite a recent power shortage, particularly with the bases loaded (they’re 0 for their last 17), the Yankees really need more starting pitching, given the inconsistencies of Phil Hughes and Hiroki Kuroda plus the season-ending injury to Michael Pineda. Yet, the George Steinbrenner-less Yankees did not, or could not, convince Roy Oswalt to join their staff. Oswalt signed a reported $5 million, one-year deal with the Texas Rangers, more validation that the mantle of baseball dynasty, at least in the American League, has been transferred to the Rangers, league champions the last two years. 

True, the free-agent Oswalt is coming off an injury-plagued 2011, but there is little doubt he would be at least as effective as Hughes or Kuroda. It’s painful to watch the Yankees slip into mediocrity, at best, insignificance, at worst. I never thought I’d miss George. 

It’s enough to drive a fan to drink. But in New York City, if Mayor Michael Bloomberg has his way, you’ll be restricted in the size of sugary soft drinks you can purchase in a restaurant, deli or sports arena—no more than 16 ounces of pap per serving. It’s a health issue, part of Bloomberg’s continuous war on obesity and its causes. 

It’s disingenuous to argue sugared soft drink consumption doesn’t contribute to added weight and possibly to adult onset diabetes. Bloomberg’s opponents would argue he is dictating how people may live their lives, that he’s usurping (or is it un-syruping) their rights. Yet it is also indisputable the rising cost of health care for the obese and diabetic is a silent tax on everyone, that it is in the public interest to control consumption of products that destroy lives and cost the taxpayer to medicate. It’s just like efforts to fight tobacco use, or trans fats in restaurant food.

Now, as a long-time Coca-Cola drinker—the real stuff, not diet—until about 20 years ago, I can tell you some people do not gain weight from it. I wouldn’t have flunked that draft physical if Coke had packed pounds onto my frame. But Coke did play a part in elevating my blood sugar levels. 

I’m not thrilled the public and businesses would have some of their rights curtailed. But I am supportive of a government policy that aims to improve the quality of life for everyone, even if they don’t realize it’s in their best interests. 

Softball, Stop Signs and Blunts

Chilly start to the softball season this morning. Grey day, with a stiff breeze. More of a wind, I’d say, that kept temperatures in the 50’s. Surely not a day to unveil my standard pitching attire of shorts and high sweat socks, though I did have them on beneath my baseball pants. Started to spritz around the 4th inning, not enough to even consider being a nuisance or a reason to call the game. 

Legged out an infield hit. In my prime I might have outrun another infield chopper, but those are days I can only talk about, barely remember. Didn’t strike out anyone; only walked one batter. All in all, not a bad day on the mound, especially since I returned home without injury. Slathering up with he-man doses of Mineral Ice on my lower back, Achilles tendons and knees before heading off to the ball field surely helped. 

The team’s a work in progress. They gave maximum effort. Now all we need to work on is some fundamentals and skill improvement. We hit decently, even socked a home run. But we ran ourselves out of two rallies. It’s a good thing I’ve been in this rebuilding situation before. Much easier to take a 23-3 shellacking when you’re just out to have a good time, and not get hurt.

Dmitri Krioukov, a Russian researcher and Web data analysis professor in California, has become an Internet darling for posting a paper on how to beat a traffic ticket like the one he received for allegedly rolling through a stop sign (http://www.ksl.com/?sid=20035542&nid=1012).

Big deal. I managed the same feat more than 33 years ago, way before the Internet was widely known. Even more difficult was winning over my wife’s participation in my ultimate defense. As I wrote in January 2010, a policeman in the hamlet of Pine Bush, NY, outside Middletown, claimed I rolled through a stop sign, which Gilda and I denied to no avail. To fight the ticket we had to return six weeks later for night court. Gilda was a willing witness for the defense, but quickly changed her mind when she discovered I had miscalculated the court date. We showed up a day early. She was in no mood to leave work early the next day and trek 60 miles up north to testify in my behalf. I reeeeally had to do some major groveling to get Gilda to go back to Pine Bush with me the next night.

Even so, her demeanor was not friendly. She had the comportment of a hostile witness, but she was all I had. Without her it would be my word against the cop’s. Even though I extracted from him an admission that he was stationed 300 yards, three football fields!, away from the stop sign I allegedly “rolled through,” it was still just the two of us squaring off, and in most jurisdictions that’s bad news for a defendant. 

After Gilda testified, the judge asked if the policeman had a witness. He did. It was the chief of police, who was riding with him that night. OK, where was he?, the judge asked. On patrol, came the reply, followed swiftly by good, old-fashioned country justice—two against one, case dismissed. 

Take that, Dmitri!

Last Wednesday, Thomas L. Friedman devoted his column in the NY Times to a call for Michael Bloomberg to mount an independent run for president, not because he would win, but rather because it would influence Democrats and Republicans to soften their rigid stances and meld their positions into more centrist ones that would benefit the country. “By taking part in the televised debates,” Friedman wrote, “he could impose a dose of reality on the election that would otherwise be missing. Congress would have to take note” (http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/18/opinion/friedman-one-for-the-country.html).

Let me be blunt about this: Friedman must have been smoking something (maybe a blunt) when he wrote that. How anyone could think the GOP and its Tea Party wing will soften their radical platform clearly has not been paying attention to politics over the last three years. To expect them to change should they win the White House or both houses of Congress is delusional. One of the main criticisms of Barack Obama by his supporters has been his misguided belief he could work with the Republicans, that he failed to make use of the majorities he helped sweep into office in 2008, that he capitulated time and again to conservative demands. 

No, Mr. Friedman, a third party candidacy from a progressive thinker like Bloomberg would only hurt Obama by siphoning off votes from Independents and some Democrats. It could be argued that Ralph Nader’s Quixotic runs for the presidency gave us two terms of George W. Bush. I’m sure Michael Bloomberg has an ego at least as large as Nader’s, but I’m also of the opinion the mayor of New York City is not so enamored of himself that he would purposely tip an election to Republicans who reject almost all of his social and economic beliefs. 

Politics and Some Old Fashioned Values

Michele Bachmann’s politics might not be my cup of tea, but at least she seems to have the credentials of someone who has served the public for many years. She also appears to be no slouch when it comes to intellect, though I would question some of her conclusions.

What I don’t understand, however, is why politicians like her always insist they are not politicians? More curiously, why do so many voters swallow their swill?

The other day, when announcing her candidacy during an Iowa stopover, Bachmann asserted, “People are tired of politicians.” Okay, if that’s the case, why is she running? She is a professional politician. Anyone who is a three-term congresswoman is a professional politician. How can anyone who knows her think she is not a politician?

Michael Bloomberg was not a politician when he first ran for mayor of New York City. Now in his third term, Mayor Mike is definitely a politician. Rand Paul was not a politician when he ran for the U.S. Senate from Kentucky last year. If he seeks re-election in 2016, or heaven help us higher office, he no longer should be able to claim the mantle of an outsider.

Bachmann appears to be as scripted as they come. She’s chock full of sound bites, an impressive quality in this era of fly-by news coverage and casual listening by the electorate. That’s why it was all the more humorous when she misspoke at her Waterloo, Iowa, campaign launch by saying both she and John Wayne hailed from that small Iowa town. In case you haven’t heard, she got the wrong John Wayne mixed up with the conservative, Hollywood icon. John Wayne the actor was from a different Iowa community, Winterset. John Wayne Gacy, the serial killer, was from home town of Waterloo. Perhaps she'll turn her faux pas into a clever retort by saying she will serially kill government, program by program.

Oh well, in any campaign there are bound to be gaffes, like when Sarah Palin couldn’t remember the name of any newspapers she read, or lauded her foreign affairs expertise because she could see Russia from her porch.

Palin is the protagonist of a new documentary premiered Tuesday in Iowa designed to right the wrongs that have besmirched her political career. The Undefeated is said to portray her two and a half years as governor as among the most fulfilling of any full-term chief executive of Alaska. I haven’t seen the film, which Palin did not commission. But you have to wonder why the documentarian chose the name The Undefeated. Palin, did, after all, lose her last election in 2008.

According to Human Events, a conservative Web site, filmmaker Stephen K. Bannon “said he titled the film The Undefeated in part because Palin fights for 'the values that she stands for and represents -- the American spirit that is found on the frontier -- and those values cannot be defeated.’”

I’ve seen lots of Westerns in my time, many starring John Wayne. While they deified individual accomplishment, self-reliance and a refusal to give in, they also contained some themes that were decidedly un-Republican: bankers often were shady characters; land- and cattle barons along with railroad tycoons were selfish aggrandizers, willing to pay hired guns to do their dirty work; to get ahead, homesteaders and townspeople often had to band together in a sort of collective socialism; prostitution was an accepted, at least tolerated, social norm; a good lawman was one who enforced gun control over the citizenry. No one declared their Second Amendment rights when Marshal Dillon or Wyatt Earp demanded they put down their side arms.

Tie-ing Up Politics to Move Forward

What’s with all the grey ties Obama has been wearing lately? They may be beautiful, but to my eye, and those of some professional observers, they are sending the wrong message.

One blogger asked, “Is Obama trying to look like a mortician with his dark suit and grey tie get up?” Those who disagree with his stewardship of our country might agree he’s trying to bury us.

From Britain comes this generic analysis of color from Scarlet Pixel, the self-described “Internet leaders in online personal colour analysis”:

“The wearing of grey ties, or suits for that matter, can easily give out the robust message that you are a 'company' person, evasive and not open to commitment or ready to take a stand over any issue (http://www.scarletpixel.com/).” Ouch, that’s so spot-on, as the English say. It’s enough to make someone choke up because the knot is too tight around the neck.


Speaking of choking up, I don’t have any problem with incoming Speaker of the House John Boehner tearing up and crying as he recalls his bootstrapping history to live the good life and making sure “kids have a shot at the American dream,” as he told Leslie Stahl on 60 Minutes last Sunday. Clips also showed Boehner choking up when he thinks about the safety and security of America.

I do, however, wonder about Boehner’s total judgment—how is it that we don’t see him crying when he thinks of all the people who are unemployed? Why does he appear dried-eyed and ready to cut off their jobless benefits unless he and his fellow millionaires get an extension of the Bush tax cuts for the wealthiest 2% of our population? Does he shed tears over the millions without health insurance? Does his waterworks flow when he talks about the rights homosexuals are denied, or is he afraid he might be suspected of being gay if he showed compassion for another human being?

Crying in public is now okay, apparently, but let’s make sure our politicians do it because they care for their fellow man and woman, not because they’re overcome by their own good fortune.


Speaking of fortunes, and ties, Mayor Michael Bloomberg eschewed a red or blue tie, or a combination of the two colors, as he attended the launch of the No Labels party this week. He wore a purple cravat. For those not familiar with No Labels, it’s an attempt to defuse the partisanship found in the Democratic and Republican parties, a movement its founders hope will be a little more permanent than Jon Stewart’s recent Rally to Restore Sanity. Here’s how No Labels describes itself on its Web site, http://nolabels.org/: “We are Democrats, Republicans, and Independents who are united in the belief that we do not have to give up our labels, merely put them aside to do what’s best for America.”

As an Independent (to express my objectivity when I began as a reporter in 1972, I chose not to affiliate with either party), I must admit I usually side with progressive, liberal politicians, the kind generally found in the Democratic party. Through the years I’ve occasionally voted for a Republican, but by no stretch of the imagination could my voting record be considered evenly split.

I agree with the idea behind No Labels. But anyone who believes electing a No Label president and even some senators and congressmen would change our political system is far from realistic. The last two years have shown that in the Senate it requires at least 60 fair-minded humans to accomplish anything. I doubt that among the 100 senators there ever again will be 60 fair-minded, bi-partisan humans who care more for country than party, who care more for the people they were elected to serve than the party leaders and lobbyists/special interests they truly serve.

I can’t pinpoint when we started to spoil political discourse—some say it began with the 1987 Bork Supreme Court nomination fight—but we’ve gone far astray from Frank Capra’s wonderful life celluloid image of America the beautiful and moral.


The new word in politics is “forward.” Just ask the media, as noted by Stewart on last night’s Daily Show. MSNBC started it with a new slogan—”Lean Forward,” countered by Fox News with “Move Forward,” and dissed by CNN’s “Moving Truth Forward.” No Labels trumped them all with its motto—"Not left. Not right. Forward."

Given the state of our national dialogue, it’s hard to believe we’re going anywhere except maybe backward. Tea Party members would like to take us back to a time when women and minorities had few if any rights, there was no income tax or health care of any kind, no social security, no regulatory federal powers, and, maybe, even to a time when not even the U.S. Supreme Court would deny the right of a white man to own a black slave.