We are all shaped by the experiences of our youth. I spent part of mine in areas where the races were segregated by law.
I remember it as a source of anxiety and confusion.My grandmother's housekeeper, who became a beloved mother figure to me, came and went only through the back door because she was black. I was admonished by ostensibly good-hearted adults that black people were genetically inferior, and that it was unfair or even cruel to expect them to bear the full burdens of citizenship. I couldn't understand how all the values I was otherwise taught could be inverted on the issue of race.
Years later we moved up north, and I learned why one writer called it the Piety Belt. There I found Jim Crow living quite comfortably, albeit in subtler disguise. To this day I remember our town as the most thoroughly segregated community I have ever seen. My friends and neighbors sheltered in the notion that racism was peculiar to the American South, and that it was therefore someone else's problem. It required of them no personal examination of behavior or conscience. Not a whit. And it received none.
Jim's disguises would later be penetrated. One of the nastiest school desegregation battles in the country's history was fought in Boston. Segregation of the Philadelphia public schools was contested for years -- in the City of Brotherly Love. Fear, frustration and anger among African Americans have erupted in cities of every region.
Fast forward to the present. Is America a better place on issues of race? Yes. Is it the kind of place we ought to want? No. As a national columnist reminded just last week, bias still is "sadly, embedded in American culture."
Events remind us as well. The "N" word remains a red flag for violent boobs, and for some of them a license to kill. Last year a group of white teens in Mississippi sought out a black stranger and murdered him for sport. They joked about it over burgers afterward. They were, of course, people of a certain sort. But unless they came from Mars, they were nourished by a climate of attitude toward race.
The climate is manifest in other ways, and in other places. The New York City police department is today being credibly accused of racial profiling. The charge is so widely leveled at law enforcement that no sentient American above the age of 10 needs an explanation of the phrase "driving while black." Elements of the immigration debate are tinged with racial hostility. So is some of the vitriol directed at the president of the United States.
Bigotry is not limited to matters of race, of course. The form specifically on the mind of that national columnist was homophobia. And he was making an odd argument. He said the Rutgers student convicted of committing hate crimes against his gay roommate should not have been prosecuted.
The details are both sordid and grim. Dharun Ravi videotaped his roommate, Tyler Clementi, in a sexual encounter with another man. Ravi then invited other people to watch the video. He tweeted that Clementi was gay. Soon afterward, Clementi committed suicide. Ravi now faces prison and deportation to his native India.
The columnist, a law professor, wrote in part: " ... legally speaking, Ravi did not cause the death, nor was it reasonably foreseeable. Of the millions of people who are bullied or who suffer invasions of privacy, few kill themselves. ...
"For his stupidity, Ravi should be shamed by his fellow students and kicked out of his dorm, but he should not be sent to prison for years and then banished from the United States. ...
"The problem with broad (hate crime) laws like New Jersey's is that they come too close to punishing people for what they think. Bigotry, including homophobia, is morally condemnable, but in a free country it should not be a punishable offense. ...
"Ravi did not invent homophobia, but he is being scapegoated for it. Bias against gay people is, sadly, embedded in American culture. Until last year, people were kicked out of the military because they were homosexuals."
These notions might suffice if life were a matter of nicely balanced abstractions. But it isn't. In real life, certain attitudes can do real harm.
Homophobia mimics racism in holding that some people are not worth a full measure of respect. And it can reach ghastly extremes. In 1998, gay college student Matthew Shepard was tortured and murdered in an incident so notorious that a federal hate crime statute bears his name. My newspaper last Sunday told the story of Calvin Burdine, sentenced to death in 1984 for the Texas murder of his male partner: "Burdine's court-appointed lawyer, when not dozing, referred to his client as a 'fairy.' The prosecutor, meanwhile, demanded the death penalty by arguing that gays actually look forward to the rewards of prison life." (The death sentence was later reversed.)
Homophobia widely takes forms that are less dangerous but still offensive to a proper sense of right and wrong.. A friend with a gay pride sticker on his bumper learned to ignore the occasional shout of "faggot" as he used the public streets. (Let us note the shouters' assumption that heterosexuals within earshot would not mind.) Several gay friends have told me over the years of being ostracized in their own neighborhoods. As recently as the 1970s, a Hollywood bar and grill featured matchbook covers that said "Faggots stay out." The plain fact is this: In our culture, gay people are routinely the targets of disdain, abuse, discrimination and worse.
In this climate, Ravi cannot -- or should not -- have failed to imagine that Clementi would feel threatened. Did Ravi cause the suicide? No one will ever know. Was his behavior worse than merely juvenile and stupid? Yes, it was.
Any notion that some people are worth less than others is insidious and dangerous.I saw it legally inflicted on black people in my youth. It remains a fixture in American race relations today. As our columnist notes above, until last year it was embedded in the policies of the United States government.
Hate crime statutes draw a fine line, yes. But it's an important one. As in the case of Ravi and Clementi, people who pour gasoline on embers can rightly be held accountable for what happens next. American citizens should not have to fear their neighbors -- or their roommates.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
A Tangled Web
I got another letter from Uncle Barlow the other day. He is stirred up about public affairs of one sort and another. Here's his view of things from way out in the countryside.
"Dear Nephew,
"We have a situation here in Barlow County. Oh, my goodness do we have a situation.
"The widow Cumbee is sweet on Floyd over at the grain elevator, hardware store and auto repair. She looks at him like that Callista Gingrich looks at her man Newt.
"Floyd encouraged her at first, but then he started wishing he hadn't.. Things came to a head when he took her to a double feature at the Starlite Drive In. She got carried away when the cuddling commenced, and Floyd came home with a cracked rib and second thoughts. He keeps trying to wiggle away from her, but she's too moonstruck to notice.
"He hasn't been in a crack like this since he told his late wife he had the green apple quickstep and skipped her family reunion to go fishing. Floyd caught a lunker that day. Biggest fish he ever landed. He wanted ever so bad to brag about it, but of course he didn't dare, because he'd lied to his wife about spending all day on the thunder mug. He finally gave the fish to Scooter over at the cafe. But he made Scooter tell people he never would have caught it if Floyd hadn't taught him how.
"Anyhow, Floyd gets in trouble when he flimflams people about his true outlook. Millie over at the library says that's what Rick Santorum is doing, by the way. He's another one of those fellows who's running for president. Nowadays he wears suits and talks about foreign policy and such. A while back, before he started getting more votes, he wore a sweater vest and talked a lot about sex. He's against birth control, to mention just one thing, and not only for himself. He's against it for everybody. He talked and talked about it. He talked so much about it that finally his own wife started saying maybe he should change the subject.
Millie says that now he's posing and pretending. She says that, back when he started out, he was trying to look like the kind of fellow who might help you jump start your car, but that now he's trying to look presidential. I said maybe his sweater vest is at the dry cleaners. Millie just snorted. She says that all the women are going to vote against him. She says he wants a 'theocracy.' And it certainly does look to me like he's apt to go beyond preaching and get to meddling.
"That fellow Mitt Romney doesn't suit Millie any better. He's been complaining about gas prices. Millie said she would, too, if her spouse drove two Cadillacs. And then there's the business about light bulbs. Romney said President Obama and his folks 'banned' the light bulbs everybody's used all these years. But the trouble is, that's just not true. Millie showed me in back issues of The Barlow Clarion how this notion of switching to more efficient light bulbs got started under the last President Bush and was passed by big votes of both parties in Congress.
"I said I hoped a presidential candidate wouldn't just flat-out lie. I said maybe Romney just got confused. Millie said who wants a president who can't keep light bulbs straight. She has a sharp tongue, sometimes.
"Anyhow, back to Floyd and the Widow Cumbee. She just won't leave him alone. Floyd has started inventing excuses for laying out of work at the elevator and store, so he won't be so easy for her to find.
"Trouble is, Floyd is the only person who knows right where everything is in the store. They're still using the inventory system old Mr. Flack set up in 1960. And since he kept the system all up in his head, and since he turned up his toes a couple of years ago, shopping for hardware or auto parts has come to be a time-consuming thing if Floyd isn't there.
"Word got around town that things weren't just right at the store, and business went soft. The business reporter and society columnist at The Clarion says this has set off 'economic ripples' in town. The story didn't come right out and say it's all because the Widow Cumbee wants Floyd to service her transmission, but everybody already knows that, so there was no need to dwell on it.
"The situation has also caused personal problems for people. Scooter's wife sent him to buy a tack hammer so he could hang some little pictures in their living room. When the folks at the store just couldn't find one, Scooter tried to use a ball peen hammer, and he made an egg-sized hole in the dry wall.
"Now, Scooter's wife is one of those people with a powerful need to be unhappy. She can find personal issues in a dinner menu. When she is presented with an opportunity as real as a hole in the dry wall, she really goes to town. She has cut off all communication inside their house, if you get my meaning.
"So, as I said, we have a situation here in Barlow County. There's talk of forming a citizens committee to press upon Floyd an obligation to step up and do right by the Widow Cumbee. We all have our civic duty, even in our sex lives.
"That's what Rick Santorum says.
"Sincerely,
"Your Uncle Barlow"
"Dear Nephew,
"We have a situation here in Barlow County. Oh, my goodness do we have a situation.
"The widow Cumbee is sweet on Floyd over at the grain elevator, hardware store and auto repair. She looks at him like that Callista Gingrich looks at her man Newt.
"Floyd encouraged her at first, but then he started wishing he hadn't.. Things came to a head when he took her to a double feature at the Starlite Drive In. She got carried away when the cuddling commenced, and Floyd came home with a cracked rib and second thoughts. He keeps trying to wiggle away from her, but she's too moonstruck to notice.
"He hasn't been in a crack like this since he told his late wife he had the green apple quickstep and skipped her family reunion to go fishing. Floyd caught a lunker that day. Biggest fish he ever landed. He wanted ever so bad to brag about it, but of course he didn't dare, because he'd lied to his wife about spending all day on the thunder mug. He finally gave the fish to Scooter over at the cafe. But he made Scooter tell people he never would have caught it if Floyd hadn't taught him how.
"Anyhow, Floyd gets in trouble when he flimflams people about his true outlook. Millie over at the library says that's what Rick Santorum is doing, by the way. He's another one of those fellows who's running for president. Nowadays he wears suits and talks about foreign policy and such. A while back, before he started getting more votes, he wore a sweater vest and talked a lot about sex. He's against birth control, to mention just one thing, and not only for himself. He's against it for everybody. He talked and talked about it. He talked so much about it that finally his own wife started saying maybe he should change the subject.
Millie says that now he's posing and pretending. She says that, back when he started out, he was trying to look like the kind of fellow who might help you jump start your car, but that now he's trying to look presidential. I said maybe his sweater vest is at the dry cleaners. Millie just snorted. She says that all the women are going to vote against him. She says he wants a 'theocracy.' And it certainly does look to me like he's apt to go beyond preaching and get to meddling.
"That fellow Mitt Romney doesn't suit Millie any better. He's been complaining about gas prices. Millie said she would, too, if her spouse drove two Cadillacs. And then there's the business about light bulbs. Romney said President Obama and his folks 'banned' the light bulbs everybody's used all these years. But the trouble is, that's just not true. Millie showed me in back issues of The Barlow Clarion how this notion of switching to more efficient light bulbs got started under the last President Bush and was passed by big votes of both parties in Congress.
"I said I hoped a presidential candidate wouldn't just flat-out lie. I said maybe Romney just got confused. Millie said who wants a president who can't keep light bulbs straight. She has a sharp tongue, sometimes.
"Anyhow, back to Floyd and the Widow Cumbee. She just won't leave him alone. Floyd has started inventing excuses for laying out of work at the elevator and store, so he won't be so easy for her to find.
"Trouble is, Floyd is the only person who knows right where everything is in the store. They're still using the inventory system old Mr. Flack set up in 1960. And since he kept the system all up in his head, and since he turned up his toes a couple of years ago, shopping for hardware or auto parts has come to be a time-consuming thing if Floyd isn't there.
"Word got around town that things weren't just right at the store, and business went soft. The business reporter and society columnist at The Clarion says this has set off 'economic ripples' in town. The story didn't come right out and say it's all because the Widow Cumbee wants Floyd to service her transmission, but everybody already knows that, so there was no need to dwell on it.
"The situation has also caused personal problems for people. Scooter's wife sent him to buy a tack hammer so he could hang some little pictures in their living room. When the folks at the store just couldn't find one, Scooter tried to use a ball peen hammer, and he made an egg-sized hole in the dry wall.
"Now, Scooter's wife is one of those people with a powerful need to be unhappy. She can find personal issues in a dinner menu. When she is presented with an opportunity as real as a hole in the dry wall, she really goes to town. She has cut off all communication inside their house, if you get my meaning.
"So, as I said, we have a situation here in Barlow County. There's talk of forming a citizens committee to press upon Floyd an obligation to step up and do right by the Widow Cumbee. We all have our civic duty, even in our sex lives.
"That's what Rick Santorum says.
"Sincerely,
"Your Uncle Barlow"
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Uncle Barlow
I got a letter from Uncle Barlow the other day. He writes from time to time.
I should explain that he isn't necessarily my uncle at all. His branch of the family tree is way out on the fringes, and I'm not clear on our exact relationship. The closest I ever got to an explanation was from a guy at a family reunion. He said Uncle Barlow was my mother's third cousin's second husband. That may be true, or the guy may have been brushing me off. He was eager to get to the flask he'd stashed in the azaleas behind the picnic shelter.
Also, "Uncle Barlow" may not actually be Uncle Barlow's name. He lives out in the country among people who've been there for generations. A lot of them are tagged with the Barlow name one way or another. Even the county is named Barlow. So while it's possible that "Barlow" is part of Uncle Barlow's proper name, it's also possible that it's just a sort of handle, like Minnesota Fats or Memphis Slim or Cincinnati Kid.
Uncle Barlow has been retired for years. He spends his days whittling and watching what he calls "the passing parade of life." If the parade begins to move too fast for him, he writes me. Here's what 's been on his mind lately:
"Dear Nephew,"
(He calls me "nephew." I just go with it.)
"I read in the Barlow Clarion that this fellow Rick Santorum is beginning to do pretty good in that election the Republicans are having. This has me concerned and confused, because it looks to me like if he became president he'd want to make us all go to church and have a lot of children.
"Now, I always thought that church was one thing, and the government was something else. But I never did very good in school, so maybe I just didn't understand. I'll keep working on that part.
"And I think I'm OK on the business about having a lot of kids, what with my dear Beulah being gone all these years. Nowadays there are only four single women my age in Barlow County. Three of them are in the home, and the fourth one is the Widow Cumbee. If Mr. Santorum ever saw the widow Cumbee, I think he'd be willing to give me a pass.
"What's really got me stirred up is this church thing. I've never been much of a church fellow, so most of what I know is second-hand. But I do notice some things. For example, take the folks who swarm down to the First Barlow Church on Sundays. I notice that during the week they don't exactly practice what they preach, you might say.
"This must be OK with Mr. Santorum, as I read in the Clarion that he did some of the same sort of thing when he was up there in the U.S. Senate. From time to time he'd say one thing and then vote the other way. I guess he had examples to follow, since a lot of them seem to do it in the Congress. That's according to what I read in the Clarion, anyway. I wonder if they give newcomers some kind of training class when they arrive, so they don't look clumsy the first few times they double back on their word.
" I've never had any such training, so I struggle with the notion of saying you believe something and then acting like you really never did. I tried it for a few hours last Tuesday, and it made my head swim. Maybe if Mr. Santorum gets elected he can make Congress offer classes to everybody.
"About those fellows Ron Paul and Newt Gingrich I don't know what to think. Judging from the way they're lagging behind, others don't either. Why they keep running is a mystery to me. Maybe they just enjoy having friends pay for their travel.
"Now, this Romney fellow seems to be an interesting kind of bird. I read in the Clarion that he just changes what he says he believes to fit the situation he's in. This doesn't seem to me like the best way to behave, but I guess it's convenient.
"It reminds me of what happened here last winter with the youngster in the devil suit.
"Some fraternity boys over the college had a bunch of new pledges they needed to break in. They dressed them in all different kinds of costumes and left them out in the country to get back the best way they could. The one they dropped off here in Barlow County had on a devil costume.
"He soon got lost and wandered around until after dark. He began to get pretty scared. When he saw lights and heard voices over at the First Barlow Church, he made right for it.
"Inside, they were having a revival meeting. It had lasted into the night, because they had one of those guest preachers who can talk so long you need a haircut by the time he's done. He was reaching full roar about hellfire and damnation when the back door of the church flew open, and in staggered the college boy in the devil suit. He was so scared his eyes were bugging out. And it was a cold night, so his breath was all smoky in the air.
"People took one look at that sight and began diving for the doors and windows. The Widow Cumbee doesn't miss any meals, so it can take her an extra little while to move. By the time she got all of herself under way, most of the exits were busy. She decided to make for the back door of the church. All the commotion had scared the college boy even worse than he already was, and he decided to scamper out the same way. The two of them got jammed up in the doorway, belly to belly and eyeball to eyeball. The Widow Cumbee commenced to shouting, 'Look here! I want you to know I've really been on your side all along!'
"I don't think the Widow Cumbee is likely to run for president, but judging from events lately you never can tell what kind of folks might volunteer.
"Sincerely,
"Your Uncle Barlow"
I should explain that he isn't necessarily my uncle at all. His branch of the family tree is way out on the fringes, and I'm not clear on our exact relationship. The closest I ever got to an explanation was from a guy at a family reunion. He said Uncle Barlow was my mother's third cousin's second husband. That may be true, or the guy may have been brushing me off. He was eager to get to the flask he'd stashed in the azaleas behind the picnic shelter.
Also, "Uncle Barlow" may not actually be Uncle Barlow's name. He lives out in the country among people who've been there for generations. A lot of them are tagged with the Barlow name one way or another. Even the county is named Barlow. So while it's possible that "Barlow" is part of Uncle Barlow's proper name, it's also possible that it's just a sort of handle, like Minnesota Fats or Memphis Slim or Cincinnati Kid.
Uncle Barlow has been retired for years. He spends his days whittling and watching what he calls "the passing parade of life." If the parade begins to move too fast for him, he writes me. Here's what 's been on his mind lately:
"Dear Nephew,"
(He calls me "nephew." I just go with it.)
"I read in the Barlow Clarion that this fellow Rick Santorum is beginning to do pretty good in that election the Republicans are having. This has me concerned and confused, because it looks to me like if he became president he'd want to make us all go to church and have a lot of children.
"Now, I always thought that church was one thing, and the government was something else. But I never did very good in school, so maybe I just didn't understand. I'll keep working on that part.
"And I think I'm OK on the business about having a lot of kids, what with my dear Beulah being gone all these years. Nowadays there are only four single women my age in Barlow County. Three of them are in the home, and the fourth one is the Widow Cumbee. If Mr. Santorum ever saw the widow Cumbee, I think he'd be willing to give me a pass.
"What's really got me stirred up is this church thing. I've never been much of a church fellow, so most of what I know is second-hand. But I do notice some things. For example, take the folks who swarm down to the First Barlow Church on Sundays. I notice that during the week they don't exactly practice what they preach, you might say.
"This must be OK with Mr. Santorum, as I read in the Clarion that he did some of the same sort of thing when he was up there in the U.S. Senate. From time to time he'd say one thing and then vote the other way. I guess he had examples to follow, since a lot of them seem to do it in the Congress. That's according to what I read in the Clarion, anyway. I wonder if they give newcomers some kind of training class when they arrive, so they don't look clumsy the first few times they double back on their word.
" I've never had any such training, so I struggle with the notion of saying you believe something and then acting like you really never did. I tried it for a few hours last Tuesday, and it made my head swim. Maybe if Mr. Santorum gets elected he can make Congress offer classes to everybody.
"About those fellows Ron Paul and Newt Gingrich I don't know what to think. Judging from the way they're lagging behind, others don't either. Why they keep running is a mystery to me. Maybe they just enjoy having friends pay for their travel.
"Now, this Romney fellow seems to be an interesting kind of bird. I read in the Clarion that he just changes what he says he believes to fit the situation he's in. This doesn't seem to me like the best way to behave, but I guess it's convenient.
"It reminds me of what happened here last winter with the youngster in the devil suit.
"Some fraternity boys over the college had a bunch of new pledges they needed to break in. They dressed them in all different kinds of costumes and left them out in the country to get back the best way they could. The one they dropped off here in Barlow County had on a devil costume.
"He soon got lost and wandered around until after dark. He began to get pretty scared. When he saw lights and heard voices over at the First Barlow Church, he made right for it.
"Inside, they were having a revival meeting. It had lasted into the night, because they had one of those guest preachers who can talk so long you need a haircut by the time he's done. He was reaching full roar about hellfire and damnation when the back door of the church flew open, and in staggered the college boy in the devil suit. He was so scared his eyes were bugging out. And it was a cold night, so his breath was all smoky in the air.
"People took one look at that sight and began diving for the doors and windows. The Widow Cumbee doesn't miss any meals, so it can take her an extra little while to move. By the time she got all of herself under way, most of the exits were busy. She decided to make for the back door of the church. All the commotion had scared the college boy even worse than he already was, and he decided to scamper out the same way. The two of them got jammed up in the doorway, belly to belly and eyeball to eyeball. The Widow Cumbee commenced to shouting, 'Look here! I want you to know I've really been on your side all along!'
"I don't think the Widow Cumbee is likely to run for president, but judging from events lately you never can tell what kind of folks might volunteer.
"Sincerely,
"Your Uncle Barlow"
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Odds 'n Ends
He was an older guy -- late '60s by the look of him. She was about the same. Dressed for a Sunday stroll, they were holding hands on a downtown street corner and waiting for a light to change.
A pesky breeze was cold, but the day was pretty to look at. Late winter sunlight made bold shadows on the pavement.
He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the temple. It was a small one, but more than a peck. She turned to smile up at him.
A matron in a passing car saw the exchange and beamed.
There are still nice people all around us.
*** ***
I enjoy college sports. The men's national basketball tournament is a special treat for me. The game at its best can have balletic grace.
But as I watch, I wonder: When do some of these young men become the preening thugs who are too plentiful in professional sports?
They start at an early age, I fear. In our culture, we teach 'em young that athletes are not subject to the same standards of behavior as the rest of us.
*** ***
My grandson just celebrated his third birthday. He is a precious child whose laughter gives me a stab of the sweetest heartache you can imagine.
The same is true of my granddaughter. She's just a little younger than he is.
Both my grandchildren have the bright, settled countenance of children who are well and skillfully loved. Yes, getting a good start in life takes a bit of luck, with mental and physical health and such. But beyond that is the particular blessing of kids who know that they are cherished in a proper way. You can see it, I think, in the way they bear themselves -- in their posture toward the world.
In this demeanor, my grandchildren remind me of another little boy who crosses my path from time to time. He's also about three. He is a bright-eyed, curious, chatty youngster. He radiates a feeling that his world makes sense, that he is happy and secure in it.
He breaks into a huge grin when he sees his parents approaching.
They are a lesbian couple.
Why not?
*** ***
Sen. John McCain is tetchy about the way he and Sarah Palin are portrayed in a new movie. It is said to be particularly hard on her.
He insists she was the "best qualified" person to be his running mate in the presidential election of 2008..
Reminds me of another writer's comment that McCain has become the crazy uncle in Washington's attic.
*** ***
Air travel is on my agenda this year. The prospect already has me in a bad mood. Flying nowadays is like getting mugged: They treat you badly and they take your money, too.
I can remember when airplanes flew on time. As a veteran consumer of the standard variety of goods and services, I can remember when the basic concept of customer service was alive outside the history books.
No more. Take those automated phone trees, for example. They are a bane (especially the ones featuring assurances that my phone call is important to the people who can't get around to answering it.) We undertook this week to redeem some of those bonus points the credit card companies are so proud of. The exercise eventually involved two telephone attempts, three emails, a bout of head-scratching, some helpless listening to recorded information we didn't want and -- finally -- conversations with people who read from a script. I have negotiated mortgages with less trouble.
Customer service has been significantly impeded by computers. All of us have waited, and waited, and waited, while some poor clerk at the other end of a commercial transaction said, "I'm sorry for the delay. Our computers have been very slow today."
Some days, mine is slow, too. It has a mind of its own. It is especially willful when the virus protection software takes control and grinds through an extended search for the latest mutations of electronic vermin.
The protection is beneficial, of course. I just don't like being bitch-slapped by a machine.
And so aging has given me one more opportunity to eat my words. I always swore I wouldn't be one of those fuddy-duddies who complain that things are not like they used to be.
But they're not.
And I don't like it.
So there.
A pesky breeze was cold, but the day was pretty to look at. Late winter sunlight made bold shadows on the pavement.
He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the temple. It was a small one, but more than a peck. She turned to smile up at him.
A matron in a passing car saw the exchange and beamed.
There are still nice people all around us.
*** ***
I enjoy college sports. The men's national basketball tournament is a special treat for me. The game at its best can have balletic grace.
But as I watch, I wonder: When do some of these young men become the preening thugs who are too plentiful in professional sports?
They start at an early age, I fear. In our culture, we teach 'em young that athletes are not subject to the same standards of behavior as the rest of us.
*** ***
My grandson just celebrated his third birthday. He is a precious child whose laughter gives me a stab of the sweetest heartache you can imagine.
The same is true of my granddaughter. She's just a little younger than he is.
Both my grandchildren have the bright, settled countenance of children who are well and skillfully loved. Yes, getting a good start in life takes a bit of luck, with mental and physical health and such. But beyond that is the particular blessing of kids who know that they are cherished in a proper way. You can see it, I think, in the way they bear themselves -- in their posture toward the world.
In this demeanor, my grandchildren remind me of another little boy who crosses my path from time to time. He's also about three. He is a bright-eyed, curious, chatty youngster. He radiates a feeling that his world makes sense, that he is happy and secure in it.
He breaks into a huge grin when he sees his parents approaching.
They are a lesbian couple.
Why not?
*** ***
Sen. John McCain is tetchy about the way he and Sarah Palin are portrayed in a new movie. It is said to be particularly hard on her.
He insists she was the "best qualified" person to be his running mate in the presidential election of 2008..
Reminds me of another writer's comment that McCain has become the crazy uncle in Washington's attic.
*** ***
Air travel is on my agenda this year. The prospect already has me in a bad mood. Flying nowadays is like getting mugged: They treat you badly and they take your money, too.
I can remember when airplanes flew on time. As a veteran consumer of the standard variety of goods and services, I can remember when the basic concept of customer service was alive outside the history books.
No more. Take those automated phone trees, for example. They are a bane (especially the ones featuring assurances that my phone call is important to the people who can't get around to answering it.) We undertook this week to redeem some of those bonus points the credit card companies are so proud of. The exercise eventually involved two telephone attempts, three emails, a bout of head-scratching, some helpless listening to recorded information we didn't want and -- finally -- conversations with people who read from a script. I have negotiated mortgages with less trouble.
Customer service has been significantly impeded by computers. All of us have waited, and waited, and waited, while some poor clerk at the other end of a commercial transaction said, "I'm sorry for the delay. Our computers have been very slow today."
Some days, mine is slow, too. It has a mind of its own. It is especially willful when the virus protection software takes control and grinds through an extended search for the latest mutations of electronic vermin.
The protection is beneficial, of course. I just don't like being bitch-slapped by a machine.
And so aging has given me one more opportunity to eat my words. I always swore I wouldn't be one of those fuddy-duddies who complain that things are not like they used to be.
But they're not.
And I don't like it.
So there.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Laugh a Little, Cry a Little
In this season of political comedy -- some intentional, some not -- I think of earlier humorists who've commented on life, human nature and our shared lot as a nation.
Archy the cockroach was created in 1916 by New York journalist and author Don Marquis. Archy and his friend Mehitabel the alley cat came into the newsroom after hours to talk about this 'n that. Archy wrote things down, sometimes in verse, by jumping on the keys of a typewriter (remember those?). Archy couldn't use capital letters, because it was physically impossible for him to hold down the shift key and a letter key at the same time.
Marquis and his friends left us a variety of pithy sayings. One in particular may resonate with some folks today: "When a man tells you he got rich through hard work, ask him: 'Whose?' "
Irish barkeep Mr. Dooley was created around the turn of the century by Chicago journalist Finley Peter Dunne. Mr. Dooley approached life with a wary eye and a ready quip. He is the one who famously said, "Trust everybody but cut the cards."
He also said that the mission of newspapers was to "comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." The quote was later adopted by several religious leaders, including one archbishop of Canterbury, who said it described the mission of the church. Has any other image migrated so far from its roots?
Mr. Dooley is perhaps best remembered for saying, "Politics ain't beanbag." In his Chicago, then as now, politics were not for the faint of heart. But the notion has broader pertinence, as we have seen over the past few months.
The Republicans have held the spotlight so far. We could say their search for a presidential nominee has maintained the decorum of a soccer riot, except that a soccer riot displays greater clarity of purpose and method.
Mitt Romney has wanted for years to be president but still struggles to explain why. Rick Santorum seems to think the presidency is a position in a religious order.
The aim of Ron Paul's little campaign is mysterious, unless he hopes through sheer persistence to create a niche for amiable crackpots.
Newt Gingrich wants (as ever) what Newt wants, and devil take the hindmost.
While the Republicans' extended train wreck saves comedy writers a lot of work, it is not a happy development for the nation. Well into a presidential election year, we have heard nothing resembling a fully formed discussion of the decisions facing the country. The Republican candidates have largely settled for calling each other boobs and scoundrels. Those who've occasionally peeked above their fray have directed the same kind of twaddle at President Obama.
The spectacle must especially disappoint people who value the contributions thoughtful conservatism can make to governance.They may remember a time when conservative politicians could have dignity and substance. If Don Marquis were alive to assess today's Republican candidates, he might say again: "An idea is not responsible for those who believe it."
Among humorists I've always liked Will Rogers, the cowboy sage of the '20s and '30s. He could be funny and dispense a kind of prairie wisdom at the same time. Ol' Will once said, "Everything is changing. People are taking their comedians seriously, and the politicians as a joke."
I guess he was smiling when he said it. He usually did.
In any case, he's probably looking down on us now and considering that things haven't changed so much after all.
Archy the cockroach was created in 1916 by New York journalist and author Don Marquis. Archy and his friend Mehitabel the alley cat came into the newsroom after hours to talk about this 'n that. Archy wrote things down, sometimes in verse, by jumping on the keys of a typewriter (remember those?). Archy couldn't use capital letters, because it was physically impossible for him to hold down the shift key and a letter key at the same time.
Marquis and his friends left us a variety of pithy sayings. One in particular may resonate with some folks today: "When a man tells you he got rich through hard work, ask him: 'Whose?' "
Irish barkeep Mr. Dooley was created around the turn of the century by Chicago journalist Finley Peter Dunne. Mr. Dooley approached life with a wary eye and a ready quip. He is the one who famously said, "Trust everybody but cut the cards."
He also said that the mission of newspapers was to "comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." The quote was later adopted by several religious leaders, including one archbishop of Canterbury, who said it described the mission of the church. Has any other image migrated so far from its roots?
Mr. Dooley is perhaps best remembered for saying, "Politics ain't beanbag." In his Chicago, then as now, politics were not for the faint of heart. But the notion has broader pertinence, as we have seen over the past few months.
The Republicans have held the spotlight so far. We could say their search for a presidential nominee has maintained the decorum of a soccer riot, except that a soccer riot displays greater clarity of purpose and method.
Mitt Romney has wanted for years to be president but still struggles to explain why. Rick Santorum seems to think the presidency is a position in a religious order.
The aim of Ron Paul's little campaign is mysterious, unless he hopes through sheer persistence to create a niche for amiable crackpots.
Newt Gingrich wants (as ever) what Newt wants, and devil take the hindmost.
While the Republicans' extended train wreck saves comedy writers a lot of work, it is not a happy development for the nation. Well into a presidential election year, we have heard nothing resembling a fully formed discussion of the decisions facing the country. The Republican candidates have largely settled for calling each other boobs and scoundrels. Those who've occasionally peeked above their fray have directed the same kind of twaddle at President Obama.
The spectacle must especially disappoint people who value the contributions thoughtful conservatism can make to governance.They may remember a time when conservative politicians could have dignity and substance. If Don Marquis were alive to assess today's Republican candidates, he might say again: "An idea is not responsible for those who believe it."
Among humorists I've always liked Will Rogers, the cowboy sage of the '20s and '30s. He could be funny and dispense a kind of prairie wisdom at the same time. Ol' Will once said, "Everything is changing. People are taking their comedians seriously, and the politicians as a joke."
I guess he was smiling when he said it. He usually did.
In any case, he's probably looking down on us now and considering that things haven't changed so much after all.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Gay Marriage
I am a believing Christian, an avid reader of the Bible, and a proponent of gay marriage.
Let's begin with the Bible. Formally, and on my own, I have studied it for 25 years. It is a warm, wise, earthy, wonderfully sophisticated book. It is not like the caricatures made of it by rule-mongering moralizers.
In parts it is a marvel of literature. Consider just one example: How would you capture on paper a fall from innocent grace to worldly shame? Genesis accomplishes this in just seven words addressed by God to Adam and Eve when He finds them attempting clothing: "Who told you that you were naked?"
I read the Bible frequently and cherish it as a source of nourishment. I see in it no requirement that we condemn homosexuality out of hand. Explaining would require far more than a blog posting. For now let me simply say that this is what I find in my study. This also is what I am told by the clergy of the church I attend and leaders of the denomination we belong to. (I am an Episcopalian.) The Bible that I read calls upon me to respect the dignity of every human being, to love others and not to judge them.
Over the years I have acquired several gay friends. I have a couple of gay relatives. With the single exception of their sexual orientation, they are like my straight friends and relatives. Most are exemplary people. Some are flawed. They work, pay taxes, give to charity, go to church. They love their families and keep good homes. They care about the difference between right and wrong. Some are committed in long-term, monogamous relationships. For some, relationships have failed. Some prefer to remain single. In short, they live life as it comes to the rest of us, and they harm no one in greater degree than all of us do.
It is simply not true to say that gay people threaten proper values or the stability of families. Homosexuality is not contagious, nor is it inherently hostile to principled behavior. I see no reason why my gay friends should not have the same right as I to make a marital commitment. I see no reason why the government should set out to prevent it.
Alas, members of my state legislature do not agree. Although gay marriage is already against the law in North Carolina, the legislature has proposed a double prohibition in the form of an amendment to the state constitution. The proposal will go to the voters in May.
The debate has played out along familiar lines. Proponents cite a Biblical standard of right and wrong -- as they define it. Opponents say gay marriage is an issue of civil rights, not religion.
I say the issue, as it is framed in this proposal for a constitutional amendment, is some of both.
Gay marriage is an issue of civil rights insofar as a minority is arbitrarily barred from doing what the majority freely does. But in North Carolina, in May, it will also be a religious issue in this way: The proposed amendment represents an attempt to write religious precept into civil law.
This is a ghastly and dangerous mistake. Moreover, it is an attempt to write into civil law one particular interpretation of Christian scripture, to the exclusion of others.
This is offensive to me, as a Christian, on religious grounds. I read the Bible. I have read all of it twice, most of it three times, and the New Testament more times than I can count. I have studied it with experts, and with teachers of palpable spirituality.. I know what it says, and what it does not say. I know that it can be approached from different directions and experienced in different ways. I know that the heart of its profound beauty is its capacity to touch all of us, no matter who we are or where we are in life.
I don't want the legislature of North Carolina telling me what I am allowed to hear in it.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Looking In The Mirror
We need not linger over Rush Limbaugh, the radio personality who used the airwaves to savage a private citizen for trying to exercise a citizen's rights. Limbaugh and his niche audience like to portray him as a commentator. But he is in fact just an entertainer of an especially low sort. Having said that he is the political equivalent of a pornographer, we've said enough and should move on.
We should move on to the context and the aftermath of the Limbaugh incident. In both there is occasion for sadness, concern and a strong dose of self-examination.
At issue was the posture of public policy toward insurance coverage for contraception. Sandra Fluke, a Georgetown University law student, wanted to testify before a Congressional hearing. In her view, contraception is an essential form of health care for many women. She feels government should not limit access for doctrinal reasons having nothing to do with public health.
Republicans maneuvered to prevent her from speaking. Democrats gave her an alternative forum. Limbaugh called her a variety of vulgar names on the air.
In a libel on conservatism, Limbaugh purports to speak for conservatives. But Republican presidential candidates responded to his vicious outburst with slow and tepid criticism. The office of House Speaker John Boehner issued a craven statement. Other Republicans in Congress were notably silent.
The context is an enduring preoccupation on the political right with matters of sex and reproduction. It produces -- often on the issue of abortion -- attempts to write religious precept into civil law. This is both an affront to our country's foremost principles and a remarkably short-sighted approach to governance. Once the door is opened to government enforcement of religion, any religious interest group with enough votes can use the access thus afforded. Christian conservatives are not well advised to bet on long-term dominance for their point of view.
(And in answer to one question implicit in what's above, let me say that I have my own reservations about abortion. I just don't want the government enforcing my personal values on my neighbors.)
Other concerns are stirred by the attempt of congressional Republicans in this episode to prevent the expression of views unlike their own. The government of the United States is supposed to shelter, respect and mediate among varying opinions and interests. But nowadays government may be a mere instrument of power for the voting bloc of the moment. The rampant partisanship in Congress is a fundamental betrayal of principle and public trust.
For the past couple of years we've seen it in the attempts of a willful Republican minority to sabotage the work of a duly elected president. We've seen it in political brinksmanship that brought the country to the verge of economic chaos. We've seen it in relentless attempts to shackle the government of all the people to the personal views of some of the people.
Noteworthy in this connection is the recent announcement by Maine Republican moderate Olympia Snowe that she won't seek re-election to the Senate. She cites long service, yes, but also unwillingness to invest any more of her life in an institution that does not reliably attend to its higher purposes.
"I do not believe," she wrote in The Washington Post, "that in the near term the Senate can correct itself from within. ... But whenever Americans have set our minds to tackling enormous problems, we have met with tremendous success. I am convinced that, if the people of our nation raise their collective voices, we can effect a renewal of the art of legislating -- and restore the luster of a Senate that still has the potential of achieving monumental solutions to our nation's most urgent challenges. I look forward to helping the country raise those voices to support the Senate returning to its deserved status and stature -- but from outside the institution."
Senator Snowe is saying, with elevated tact, that the Congress behaves badly in part because the public tolerates it. Many Americans don't vote or bother to inform themselves on important issues. Their neglect magnifies the power of the active few.
To paraphrase that erstwhile political sage Pogo Possum, if we look very far for malefactors in this situation, we'll find ourselves. The profile we see in the worst face of Congress is our own.
We need not linger over Rush Limbaugh, the radio personality who used the airwaves to savage a private citizen for trying to exercise a citizen's rights. Limbaugh and his niche audience like to portray him as a commentator. But he is in fact just an entertainer of an especially low sort. Having said that he is the political equivalent of a pornographer, we've said enough and should move on.
We should move on to the context and the aftermath of the Limbaugh incident. In both there is occasion for sadness, concern and a strong dose of self-examination.
At issue was the posture of public policy toward insurance coverage for contraception. Sandra Fluke, a Georgetown University law student, wanted to testify before a Congressional hearing. In her view, contraception is an essential form of health care for many women. She feels government should not limit access for doctrinal reasons having nothing to do with public health.
Republicans maneuvered to prevent her from speaking. Democrats gave her an alternative forum. Limbaugh called her a variety of vulgar names on the air.
In a libel on conservatism, Limbaugh purports to speak for conservatives. But Republican presidential candidates responded to his vicious outburst with slow and tepid criticism. The office of House Speaker John Boehner issued a craven statement. Other Republicans in Congress were notably silent.
The context is an enduring preoccupation on the political right with matters of sex and reproduction. It produces -- often on the issue of abortion -- attempts to write religious precept into civil law. This is both an affront to our country's foremost principles and a remarkably short-sighted approach to governance. Once the door is opened to government enforcement of religion, any religious interest group with enough votes can use the access thus afforded. Christian conservatives are not well advised to bet on long-term dominance for their point of view.
(And in answer to one question implicit in what's above, let me say that I have my own reservations about abortion. I just don't want the government enforcing my personal values on my neighbors.)
Other concerns are stirred by the attempt of congressional Republicans in this episode to prevent the expression of views unlike their own. The government of the United States is supposed to shelter, respect and mediate among varying opinions and interests. But nowadays government may be a mere instrument of power for the voting bloc of the moment. The rampant partisanship in Congress is a fundamental betrayal of principle and public trust.
For the past couple of years we've seen it in the attempts of a willful Republican minority to sabotage the work of a duly elected president. We've seen it in political brinksmanship that brought the country to the verge of economic chaos. We've seen it in relentless attempts to shackle the government of all the people to the personal views of some of the people.
Noteworthy in this connection is the recent announcement by Maine Republican moderate Olympia Snowe that she won't seek re-election to the Senate. She cites long service, yes, but also unwillingness to invest any more of her life in an institution that does not reliably attend to its higher purposes.
"I do not believe," she wrote in The Washington Post, "that in the near term the Senate can correct itself from within. ... But whenever Americans have set our minds to tackling enormous problems, we have met with tremendous success. I am convinced that, if the people of our nation raise their collective voices, we can effect a renewal of the art of legislating -- and restore the luster of a Senate that still has the potential of achieving monumental solutions to our nation's most urgent challenges. I look forward to helping the country raise those voices to support the Senate returning to its deserved status and stature -- but from outside the institution."
Senator Snowe is saying, with elevated tact, that the Congress behaves badly in part because the public tolerates it. Many Americans don't vote or bother to inform themselves on important issues. Their neglect magnifies the power of the active few.
To paraphrase that erstwhile political sage Pogo Possum, if we look very far for malefactors in this situation, we'll find ourselves. The profile we see in the worst face of Congress is our own.
Friday, March 2, 2012
This Just In
I don't watch much television news. There's too much show business in it for me. Even CNN has become infected. (Of the hucksters at Fox News we need only say that P.T. Barnum would approve.)
In what follows I will display a prejudice or two. Let me begin by admitting it, and by saying a few things that I think are nonetheless fair.
Every news medium has strengths and weaknesses. Print -- my lifelong professional home -- is deeper and more complete than the electronic types. But nowadays it is anachronistically slow. Also, alongside the Internet, it is no longer the best cafeteria in town. It no longer has the broadest menu.
Television is timely, easy to consume and, heaven knows, ubiquitous. But TV is predisposed toward stories that can be told in pictures, and toward events -- stuff that happens at specific times and places.
Elections are events that combine the bloviating extremes of electoral politics with the breathless, uptothheminuteeyewitnessalwaysonguard persona of TV news. One campaign or another always wants to inflate the importance of an election result. The TV cameras are always ready. The outcome can be darn near operatic. Consider the Iowa caucuses, where two-thirds fewer people voted than in my home county's last election for register of deeds.
Election nights can be a conspicuously mixed experience for reluctant viewers like me. The returns flow in at their own pace. But the alwaysonguard eyewitnesses have to be watching, watching, watching. Early in the evening of the Michigan primary, the anchors on two networks talked as much about the bells and whistles on their touch-screen displays as they did about the trickling returns. One anchor actually congratulated an analyst on his touch-screen form. (Who knew there were style points?)
I particularly enjoyed an early exchange that went this way:
Analyst: Governor Romney is doing well in parts of the state where he needs to do well if he's to win.
Anchor: Yes, if this trend continues he'll be in good shape.
Translation: If Governor Romney keeps winning, he'll win.
At moments like those, I entertain a favorite fantasy (PREJUDICE ALERT!!!). Two anchors gaze into the camera. He could be modeling men's grooming products. She looks like a refugee from the Stepford Wives.
She: Golly, Biff, we've been broadcasting for quite a while, but nothing is really happening yet.
He: Yes, Muffy, but we have air time to fill. I wonder if the viewers would like to see my vacation pictures.
My unkind image does touch on a serious point. Even the most prominent names in television news may talk a lot without actually saying anything. Instead they hold a mirror up to others. If those others are babbling and dissembling, the result accentuates the essential shallowness of the medium. Thus we have a year in which some of TV's most incisive political commentary is being delivered outside the news shows -- by comedians.
Meanwhile, important stories unfold that are not so easily told in pictures, and are not focused in a discrete event. One of this year's big ones has so far been little noted: In the aggregate, turnout in the Republican primaries has been low. A big verdict has been delivered by people who voted with their feet -- or, more precisely, with their buns, by keeping them couch-bound on election day. A lot of folks have declined to attend the circus.
All this being said, the American electorate tends to be pretty level-headed over an expanse of time -- which is the terrain on which democracy works. Voters don't take all their information from campaigning politicians, through whatever medium. They form their views from a much larger set of considerations. (I think people paid attention while House Speaker John Boehner and the other Big Men on Campus were hazing the freshman Obama. Americans don't like bullies. I'm curious to see how much they'll remember in November.)
So, the campaigns will continue to dispirit a lot of us.
Television news will continue to annoy me.
The Republic will survive.
But I do wish Wolf Blitzer could go 10 minutes without telling me I'm in the Situation Room.
I don't watch much television news. There's too much show business in it for me. Even CNN has become infected. (Of the hucksters at Fox News we need only say that P.T. Barnum would approve.)
In what follows I will display a prejudice or two. Let me begin by admitting it, and by saying a few things that I think are nonetheless fair.
Every news medium has strengths and weaknesses. Print -- my lifelong professional home -- is deeper and more complete than the electronic types. But nowadays it is anachronistically slow. Also, alongside the Internet, it is no longer the best cafeteria in town. It no longer has the broadest menu.
Television is timely, easy to consume and, heaven knows, ubiquitous. But TV is predisposed toward stories that can be told in pictures, and toward events -- stuff that happens at specific times and places.
Elections are events that combine the bloviating extremes of electoral politics with the breathless, uptothheminuteeyewitnessalwaysonguard persona of TV news. One campaign or another always wants to inflate the importance of an election result. The TV cameras are always ready. The outcome can be darn near operatic. Consider the Iowa caucuses, where two-thirds fewer people voted than in my home county's last election for register of deeds.
Election nights can be a conspicuously mixed experience for reluctant viewers like me. The returns flow in at their own pace. But the alwaysonguard eyewitnesses have to be watching, watching, watching. Early in the evening of the Michigan primary, the anchors on two networks talked as much about the bells and whistles on their touch-screen displays as they did about the trickling returns. One anchor actually congratulated an analyst on his touch-screen form. (Who knew there were style points?)
I particularly enjoyed an early exchange that went this way:
Analyst: Governor Romney is doing well in parts of the state where he needs to do well if he's to win.
Anchor: Yes, if this trend continues he'll be in good shape.
Translation: If Governor Romney keeps winning, he'll win.
At moments like those, I entertain a favorite fantasy (PREJUDICE ALERT!!!). Two anchors gaze into the camera. He could be modeling men's grooming products. She looks like a refugee from the Stepford Wives.
She: Golly, Biff, we've been broadcasting for quite a while, but nothing is really happening yet.
He: Yes, Muffy, but we have air time to fill. I wonder if the viewers would like to see my vacation pictures.
My unkind image does touch on a serious point. Even the most prominent names in television news may talk a lot without actually saying anything. Instead they hold a mirror up to others. If those others are babbling and dissembling, the result accentuates the essential shallowness of the medium. Thus we have a year in which some of TV's most incisive political commentary is being delivered outside the news shows -- by comedians.
Meanwhile, important stories unfold that are not so easily told in pictures, and are not focused in a discrete event. One of this year's big ones has so far been little noted: In the aggregate, turnout in the Republican primaries has been low. A big verdict has been delivered by people who voted with their feet -- or, more precisely, with their buns, by keeping them couch-bound on election day. A lot of folks have declined to attend the circus.
All this being said, the American electorate tends to be pretty level-headed over an expanse of time -- which is the terrain on which democracy works. Voters don't take all their information from campaigning politicians, through whatever medium. They form their views from a much larger set of considerations. (I think people paid attention while House Speaker John Boehner and the other Big Men on Campus were hazing the freshman Obama. Americans don't like bullies. I'm curious to see how much they'll remember in November.)
So, the campaigns will continue to dispirit a lot of us.
Television news will continue to annoy me.
The Republic will survive.
But I do wish Wolf Blitzer could go 10 minutes without telling me I'm in the Situation Room.
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