a New England classic
2 days ago
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Saturday, October 23, 2004
Sounding the horn on the blog bears no penalty and so I can proceed.
It is late. My train is speeding into darkness along the New Haven -- Grand Central corridor. I am reading the New Yorker and, in the gloom of the dark night, I suddenly I realize that our toast may well fall butter-side down in our laps. Let me explain.
The Talk of the Town column recalls Murphy's Law. Originally states as "If there's a wrong way to do it, he will" (since I am obsessing about politics, a certain candidate comes to mind), it evolved into the general proposition that "Anything that can go wrong will," or, as it is often formulated across the ocean (in Britain) -- "Bad things happen at the most inopportune times." In England, an advertisement basically sums it up thus: "Not only will your toast fall butter-side down; your toaster will break--the day after your guarantee runs out." And, the New Yorker article suggests that this is more than folk-wisdom. Life's events catapult in unfortunate directions in a synchronized march toward doomsday with some regularity. At the very least, it can be demonstrated that you are more likely to be stuck in a traffic jam if you need to be somewhere in a hurry.
I haven't read the headlines today yet, but I can translate this all too well into the political arena. Imagine this chain of absurdities: Kerry says Lambert instead of Lambeau while munching on a brat which he mistakenly refers to as a br-aaa-t (rhymes with hat), while wiping goose blood from his newly acquired hunting jacket, and 1000 voters, apparently with the minds of boiled turnips, catch all this on TV, gasp in shock, and fill out their swing state ballots for the "other guy." The electoral tallying machine crunches out the bleak reality. Ten electoral votes put one guy over the top and we have 4 more years of an administration that basically ensures the demise of the world as we know it. Or at the very least, hacks away at equality, civil rights, global dialogue and environmental resource conservation because the gut of one person tells him that this is what must happen. Have I taken Murphy's Law too far?
We are eleven days away. I have every right to honk scenarios of horror and gloom. Let me pause now and take a look at some headlines. Maybe that will cheer me up.
UPDATE: 50 to 46 doesn't do it for me.
(*see "forty-second street pre-election diary" post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
It is late. My train is speeding into darkness along the New Haven -- Grand Central corridor. I am reading the New Yorker and, in the gloom of the dark night, I suddenly I realize that our toast may well fall butter-side down in our laps. Let me explain.
The Talk of the Town column recalls Murphy's Law. Originally states as "If there's a wrong way to do it, he will" (since I am obsessing about politics, a certain candidate comes to mind), it evolved into the general proposition that "Anything that can go wrong will," or, as it is often formulated across the ocean (in Britain) -- "Bad things happen at the most inopportune times." In England, an advertisement basically sums it up thus: "Not only will your toast fall butter-side down; your toaster will break--the day after your guarantee runs out." And, the New Yorker article suggests that this is more than folk-wisdom. Life's events catapult in unfortunate directions in a synchronized march toward doomsday with some regularity. At the very least, it can be demonstrated that you are more likely to be stuck in a traffic jam if you need to be somewhere in a hurry.
I haven't read the headlines today yet, but I can translate this all too well into the political arena. Imagine this chain of absurdities: Kerry says Lambert instead of Lambeau while munching on a brat which he mistakenly refers to as a br-aaa-t (rhymes with hat), while wiping goose blood from his newly acquired hunting jacket, and 1000 voters, apparently with the minds of boiled turnips, catch all this on TV, gasp in shock, and fill out their swing state ballots for the "other guy." The electoral tallying machine crunches out the bleak reality. Ten electoral votes put one guy over the top and we have 4 more years of an administration that basically ensures the demise of the world as we know it. Or at the very least, hacks away at equality, civil rights, global dialogue and environmental resource conservation because the gut of one person tells him that this is what must happen. Have I taken Murphy's Law too far?
We are eleven days away. I have every right to honk scenarios of horror and gloom. Let me pause now and take a look at some headlines. Maybe that will cheer me up.
UPDATE: 50 to 46 doesn't do it for me.
(*see "forty-second street pre-election diary" post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Friday, October 22, 2004
True, this is the NY Observer. I mean, who is going to pay attention to the Observer? Still, I am reading about those New Jersey types who are reveling in their tax-cuts and hating their Democratic governor and I get worried.
There are way too many references to guns in the papers today. Kerry is sporting a hunting rifle (thanks, macho boys, for demanding this of a presidential candidate), Bush is within shooting distance in New Jersey… Meanwhile, I read in the NYTimes that the NRA has already contributed $20 million to the Bush campaign. And there is Cheney, sarcastically scoffing at Kerry’s camouflage hunting jacket. I suppose his own duck-hunting excursion with Scalia last year is now but a distant memory. And here comes clever George, still playing with the “he can run” line. Why don’t you just KILL it already, George. [The latest GWB version, referring to Kerry in his hunting garb: “he can run – he can even run in camo – but he cannot hide.”]
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
There are way too many references to guns in the papers today. Kerry is sporting a hunting rifle (thanks, macho boys, for demanding this of a presidential candidate), Bush is within shooting distance in New Jersey… Meanwhile, I read in the NYTimes that the NRA has already contributed $20 million to the Bush campaign. And there is Cheney, sarcastically scoffing at Kerry’s camouflage hunting jacket. I suppose his own duck-hunting excursion with Scalia last year is now but a distant memory. And here comes clever George, still playing with the “he can run” line. Why don’t you just KILL it already, George. [The latest GWB version, referring to Kerry in his hunting garb: “he can run – he can even run in camo – but he cannot hide.”]
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Thursday, October 21, 2004
En route to NY
I realized that I had been sitting in my room staring at the political screen for too long when I boarded the flight to LGA and, in spite of the drizzly DTW skies, my head cleared. [I may as well admit it: more than three weeks in one place and I implode.] Yeah! Is there a presidential campaign taking place? Don't know, don't care -- I tell myself. Yeah!
Not for long though. For those who believe only liberals feel compelled to proselytize their passionate message of hate and scorn for the "other side," let me tell you -- the passenger with whom I had to spend 59 minutes en route to DTW spared no vim nor vigor in telling me why he is right to be Right (as if his book on the heresy of Kerry wasn't already revealing). WWJDD (What Would Jane Doe Do)? She would, of course, not engage (why bother) and neither did I.
Flying into New York for me is always like stripping layers of down parkas and wooly sweaters off and revealing bare skin to the harsh elements of city life. Good-bye comfy quilt, hello shards of broken glass. It's odd how much I don't mind.
A reader reminded me that I have been focused on the campaign in this blog since at least the 42nd day prior to the election. She finds it scary-amazing that we are a mere thirteen days away from November 2nd. Similar thoughts were expressed by a student who wrote that she was sorry that she could not come to class for the next week and a half, but that she firmly believed in the historic significance of this election and she needed to now devote every hour of each day to getting out the vote.
A colleague noted that he has written in "Drunk" into his calendar for November 3rd no matter what the outcome. Now that's disconcerting. If you drink in post-election despair (rather than in exhiliration), then are you resigning yourself to a four-year period of inebriated stupor? I am hoping that he knows something I don't know (for example, that the polls are rigged and that the outcome is not at all close, with Kery leading by 10% of the vote, with a margin of error of .01).
Finally, a note from a neighbor led me to the photo below. I hope the French pay attention to the washing instructions on their clothes. [The photo has a way of disappearing at times and so if it's missing, know that it displays a clothing label from a small American company selling their product in France. It says in French: 'wash by hand with warm water and mild soap; dry flat; do not use bleach; do not dry in the dryer; do not iron; we are sorry that our president is an idiot; we did not vote for him.']
Not for long though. For those who believe only liberals feel compelled to proselytize their passionate message of hate and scorn for the "other side," let me tell you -- the passenger with whom I had to spend 59 minutes en route to DTW spared no vim nor vigor in telling me why he is right to be Right (as if his book on the heresy of Kerry wasn't already revealing). WWJDD (What Would Jane Doe Do)? She would, of course, not engage (why bother) and neither did I.
Flying into New York for me is always like stripping layers of down parkas and wooly sweaters off and revealing bare skin to the harsh elements of city life. Good-bye comfy quilt, hello shards of broken glass. It's odd how much I don't mind.
A reader reminded me that I have been focused on the campaign in this blog since at least the 42nd day prior to the election. She finds it scary-amazing that we are a mere thirteen days away from November 2nd. Similar thoughts were expressed by a student who wrote that she was sorry that she could not come to class for the next week and a half, but that she firmly believed in the historic significance of this election and she needed to now devote every hour of each day to getting out the vote.
A colleague noted that he has written in "Drunk" into his calendar for November 3rd no matter what the outcome. Now that's disconcerting. If you drink in post-election despair (rather than in exhiliration), then are you resigning yourself to a four-year period of inebriated stupor? I am hoping that he knows something I don't know (for example, that the polls are rigged and that the outcome is not at all close, with Kery leading by 10% of the vote, with a margin of error of .01).
Finally, a note from a neighbor led me to the photo below. I hope the French pay attention to the washing instructions on their clothes. [The photo has a way of disappearing at times and so if it's missing, know that it displays a clothing label from a small American company selling their product in France. It says in French: 'wash by hand with warm water and mild soap; dry flat; do not use bleach; do not dry in the dryer; do not iron; we are sorry that our president is an idiot; we did not vote for him.']
Looking for luck on the 13th day:
Q: Are you always for the luckless underdog?
A: No! I’m for Kerry, after all! (Shades of ‘glass half full’ mentality.) But I only watch team spectator sports when the BoRSox play against the Yankees and make history.
Q: You watched a baseball game last night???
A: I multi-tasked. I also obsessed about the period of history: both my personal history and one that is more global in nature.
Q: Intrigue! What personal history?
A: This is not a personal blog. I require, at the minimum, one meal with someone before I plunge into some bungee-jump-type exposition of core values.
Q: Fair enough. And what from world events made you spin?
A: Darfur, of course. And also the person who holds way too many cards at the moment: the guy who said today in his campaign speech (referring this time to his opponent): “he can run but he can’t hide.” JStewart reminded us that this man of limited vocabulary and even more limited ideas used the same phrase to characterize bin Laden. Except he was wrong there. Bin Laden did, of course, both run and hide.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Q: Are you always for the luckless underdog?
A: No! I’m for Kerry, after all! (Shades of ‘glass half full’ mentality.) But I only watch team spectator sports when the BoRSox play against the Yankees and make history.
Q: You watched a baseball game last night???
A: I multi-tasked. I also obsessed about the period of history: both my personal history and one that is more global in nature.
Q: Intrigue! What personal history?
A: This is not a personal blog. I require, at the minimum, one meal with someone before I plunge into some bungee-jump-type exposition of core values.
Q: Fair enough. And what from world events made you spin?
A: Darfur, of course. And also the person who holds way too many cards at the moment: the guy who said today in his campaign speech (referring this time to his opponent): “he can run but he can’t hide.” JStewart reminded us that this man of limited vocabulary and even more limited ideas used the same phrase to characterize bin Laden. Except he was wrong there. Bin Laden did, of course, both run and hide.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
What kind of evil?
This from the November Progressive (Kate Clinton’s column here):
At kiosks and bus stops all over New York, there are posters for the movie Resident Evil: Apocalypse. And almost on every poster, someone has graffitied a very tasteful P at the beginning of the first word. That about sums up the election for me.
Tomorrow I’m off to New York for the week-end. I’ll look for the posters. I’ll also be curious what it is like to be in a state that is not swinging. How odd it will be to walk down the street and not have sweat trickle as I pass a Naderite (as I did this afternoon on Library Mall)! Or maybe I wont see Naderites? Are New Yorkers tracking their neighbors, like I am? Or are they complacent in the knowledge that their state will most certainly deliver the 31 electoral votes to Kerry? And since Cheney’s message all day yesterday was about the heightened possibility of a nuclear attack on America’s largest cities under Kerry’s leadership, has anyone wondered why New Yorkers have raised their eyebrows at this and responded by painting a few more “Ps” in front of Resident Evil?
At kiosks and bus stops all over New York, there are posters for the movie Resident Evil: Apocalypse. And almost on every poster, someone has graffitied a very tasteful P at the beginning of the first word. That about sums up the election for me.
Tomorrow I’m off to New York for the week-end. I’ll look for the posters. I’ll also be curious what it is like to be in a state that is not swinging. How odd it will be to walk down the street and not have sweat trickle as I pass a Naderite (as I did this afternoon on Library Mall)! Or maybe I wont see Naderites? Are New Yorkers tracking their neighbors, like I am? Or are they complacent in the knowledge that their state will most certainly deliver the 31 electoral votes to Kerry? And since Cheney’s message all day yesterday was about the heightened possibility of a nuclear attack on America’s largest cities under Kerry’s leadership, has anyone wondered why New Yorkers have raised their eyebrows at this and responded by painting a few more “Ps” in front of Resident Evil?
In search of incongruity, irony, insanity:
The poet Allen Ginsberg died (in 1997) in a loft he had purchased on east 14th street. A bit of irony, possibly not lost on Ginsberg: the loft is nicely positioned above a corporate burger chain.
Ginsberg wrote the following poem in 1974, the year that Bush was attending Harvard Business School and Kerry was at Boston College Law School:
Who Runs America?
Oil millions of cars speeding the cracked plains
Oil from Texas, Bahrein, Venezuela Mexico
Oil that turns General Motors
revs up Ford
lights up General Electric, oil that crackles
thru International Business Machine computers,
charges dynamos for ITT
sparks Western Electric
runs thru Amer Telephone & Telegraph wires
Oil that flows thru Exxon New Jersey hoses,
rings in Mobil gas tank cranks, rumbles
Chrysler engines
shoots thru Texaco pipelines
blackens ocean from broken Gulf tankers
spills onto Santa Barbara beaches from
Standard of California derricks offshore.
Fourteen days to go...
While Kerry leads among women voters and the lead is growing (NYT today), he does not a command a strong lead among my lot! (married, suburban women over 50 – the category makes me wince, but I run an honest Ocean here)
Cheney delivered a speech in Ohio yesterday, proclaiming that the Democrats are distorting the facts when they say Bush is in favor of privatizing Social Security (recent speech made by GWB: “I’m going to come out strong after my swearing in, with fundamental tax reform, tort reform, privatizing of Social Security.”)
Members of Congress are urged to get the flu vaccine even if they are young and healthy. Why? Because they shake many hands… (WashPost)
Fourteen years ago, we have a “down on his luck a bit” guy who was "born again," but not yet focused on any job… he sits for a few years on the Caterair board (thanks, dad! I needed to do something!) where it is said of him “he didn’t add much value.. came to meetings.. told a lot of jokes, not that many clean ones…” and finally, a meeting with Karl Rove where the possibility of Bush as governor is discussed among family and friends. Six years later and we have us a new president! (NYTMag) Just as they said in my old country: in America, anyone can become president and the streets are paved with gold.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
The poet Allen Ginsberg died (in 1997) in a loft he had purchased on east 14th street. A bit of irony, possibly not lost on Ginsberg: the loft is nicely positioned above a corporate burger chain.
Ginsberg wrote the following poem in 1974, the year that Bush was attending Harvard Business School and Kerry was at Boston College Law School:
Who Runs America?
Oil millions of cars speeding the cracked plains
Oil from Texas, Bahrein, Venezuela Mexico
Oil that turns General Motors
revs up Ford
lights up General Electric, oil that crackles
thru International Business Machine computers,
charges dynamos for ITT
sparks Western Electric
runs thru Amer Telephone & Telegraph wires
Oil that flows thru Exxon New Jersey hoses,
rings in Mobil gas tank cranks, rumbles
Chrysler engines
shoots thru Texaco pipelines
blackens ocean from broken Gulf tankers
spills onto Santa Barbara beaches from
Standard of California derricks offshore.
Fourteen days to go...
While Kerry leads among women voters and the lead is growing (NYT today), he does not a command a strong lead among my lot! (married, suburban women over 50 – the category makes me wince, but I run an honest Ocean here)
Cheney delivered a speech in Ohio yesterday, proclaiming that the Democrats are distorting the facts when they say Bush is in favor of privatizing Social Security (recent speech made by GWB: “I’m going to come out strong after my swearing in, with fundamental tax reform, tort reform, privatizing of Social Security.”)
Members of Congress are urged to get the flu vaccine even if they are young and healthy. Why? Because they shake many hands… (WashPost)
Fourteen years ago, we have a “down on his luck a bit” guy who was "born again," but not yet focused on any job… he sits for a few years on the Caterair board (thanks, dad! I needed to do something!) where it is said of him “he didn’t add much value.. came to meetings.. told a lot of jokes, not that many clean ones…” and finally, a meeting with Karl Rove where the possibility of Bush as governor is discussed among family and friends. Six years later and we have us a new president! (NYTMag) Just as they said in my old country: in America, anyone can become president and the streets are paved with gold.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
On this street, in Union Park, there is a statue of Gandhi. It is positioned here to symbolize nonviolent protest, inspiring those who often begin their protest in this corner of Manhattan.
I want to catch the next available flight to NY and stand on the corner of 15th and Broadway and carry my own sign, demonstrating my revulsion to the way politicians are assessed by the voting public.
The NYT polls this morning (here) couldn’t be more telling:
Approval rating for Bush stands at 44% (one of the lowest of his tenure)
59% believe the country is heading in the wrong direction
59% believe GWB’s policies favor corporate interests (60 % said his policies benefited the rich and only 8% said they benefited the middle class; 65 % said that Kerry’s policies favored ‘ordinary Americans’)
Of those polled, more aligned themselves with Democrats than with Republicans
43% believed Social Security benefits would be available under Bush (61% saw them avaialble under Kerry)
A majority say that the war in Iraq is either a minor part, or no part at all of the war on terrorism (only 37% view it as a major part of a war on terrorism)
So, to awkwardly borrow a ‘favorite’ sports phrase, it’s a slam-dunk for Kerry, correct????
Why no. The two candidates are tied.
Why do so many voters refuse to throw in their vote behind Kerry? In the words of one level-headed citizen: “I don't trust Kerry a bit," said Robert Brorein, 74, a Republican who said he did not like Mr. Bush but could not bring himself to vote for Mr. Kerry. "I don't trust the way he talks. He doesn't give straight answers. He comes across as being slick. He's good with words, but I just don't believe him.”
Holy Hannah! Why do we waste our time teaching students to think, to be articulate, to draw arguments based on reason? Are leaders more credible if they flub and blunder their way to a response? Does anyone really think that Kerry secretly believes the opposite of what he says? What is the matter with the voting public??
Fifteen mornings before the election and I am in despair.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
I want to catch the next available flight to NY and stand on the corner of 15th and Broadway and carry my own sign, demonstrating my revulsion to the way politicians are assessed by the voting public.
The NYT polls this morning (here) couldn’t be more telling:
Approval rating for Bush stands at 44% (one of the lowest of his tenure)
59% believe the country is heading in the wrong direction
59% believe GWB’s policies favor corporate interests (60 % said his policies benefited the rich and only 8% said they benefited the middle class; 65 % said that Kerry’s policies favored ‘ordinary Americans’)
Of those polled, more aligned themselves with Democrats than with Republicans
43% believed Social Security benefits would be available under Bush (61% saw them avaialble under Kerry)
A majority say that the war in Iraq is either a minor part, or no part at all of the war on terrorism (only 37% view it as a major part of a war on terrorism)
So, to awkwardly borrow a ‘favorite’ sports phrase, it’s a slam-dunk for Kerry, correct????
Why no. The two candidates are tied.
Why do so many voters refuse to throw in their vote behind Kerry? In the words of one level-headed citizen: “I don't trust Kerry a bit," said Robert Brorein, 74, a Republican who said he did not like Mr. Bush but could not bring himself to vote for Mr. Kerry. "I don't trust the way he talks. He doesn't give straight answers. He comes across as being slick. He's good with words, but I just don't believe him.”
Holy Hannah! Why do we waste our time teaching students to think, to be articulate, to draw arguments based on reason? Are leaders more credible if they flub and blunder their way to a response? Does anyone really think that Kerry secretly believes the opposite of what he says? What is the matter with the voting public??
Fifteen mornings before the election and I am in despair.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Monday, October 18, 2004
For those who care about stars
Tonight was the night: an all-important, unprecedented all-staff meeting took place at L’Etoile. Staff was supposed to throw a birthday bash for Chef O. They did not deliver. Chef O was supposed to spring a surprise on the staff. She delivered.
You must NOT spread the word. You, reader of Ocean, are in a privileged position. You know things that others do not know. Readers with blogs, do NOT link to this. It is just between me and the Ocean readership. In other words, top top secret, reserved for the small handful of the loyal Ocean trackers.
Chef O is going national. She is taking her message of sustainable dining (I do not know what else to call it – it is multifarious) to the world at large. Her ‘job’ at L’Etoile is nearing an end. Her ‘work’ as chef-ecologist is just beginning.
What does it mean for you, the diner? Well, she will no longer be the sole proprietor at L’Etoile. Others will take over the management of the retaurant. Some of us are working frantically to allow the current Chef de Cuisine, Tory, to slip into that role.
There will be changes at L’Etoile. There will be expansion and growth. There will be, with new management, more comfortable chairs to sit in. Construction will begin in winter. Investors and partners are now under review (if you have the bucks, now’s your chance!!). But after this year, L’Etoile will never be the same again. It will be bigger, grander, a flagship restaurant that will make Madisonians proud and will make Alice Waters quiver.
But it will not be the type of place where I could approach the chef-proprietor on the street one day (five years ago) and tell her that she needs to hire me as a line-cook. Future management would, I’m sure, frown on such behavior.
You want the rickety wooden chairs and the staff that voted Green rather than Gore 4 years ago (thanks, guys!)? Go now. In a short while, the food will be probably even better, the ambiance will be much improved, but it will not be the little star I knew it to be when I encountered it 25 years ago when I first moved to Madison and it was just three years old.
You must NOT spread the word. You, reader of Ocean, are in a privileged position. You know things that others do not know. Readers with blogs, do NOT link to this. It is just between me and the Ocean readership. In other words, top top secret, reserved for the small handful of the loyal Ocean trackers.
Chef O is going national. She is taking her message of sustainable dining (I do not know what else to call it – it is multifarious) to the world at large. Her ‘job’ at L’Etoile is nearing an end. Her ‘work’ as chef-ecologist is just beginning.
What does it mean for you, the diner? Well, she will no longer be the sole proprietor at L’Etoile. Others will take over the management of the retaurant. Some of us are working frantically to allow the current Chef de Cuisine, Tory, to slip into that role.
There will be changes at L’Etoile. There will be expansion and growth. There will be, with new management, more comfortable chairs to sit in. Construction will begin in winter. Investors and partners are now under review (if you have the bucks, now’s your chance!!). But after this year, L’Etoile will never be the same again. It will be bigger, grander, a flagship restaurant that will make Madisonians proud and will make Alice Waters quiver.
But it will not be the type of place where I could approach the chef-proprietor on the street one day (five years ago) and tell her that she needs to hire me as a line-cook. Future management would, I’m sure, frown on such behavior.
You want the rickety wooden chairs and the staff that voted Green rather than Gore 4 years ago (thanks, guys!)? Go now. In a short while, the food will be probably even better, the ambiance will be much improved, but it will not be the little star I knew it to be when I encountered it 25 years ago when I first moved to Madison and it was just three years old.
It’s the snotty nose that’ll decide the race
I went to lunch with a person who has been politically connected all her professional life. She knows where the winds are blowing. She’s been around. (She is even older than I am.)
We are walking back up Bascom Hill and I ask her: So, well-connected politically-knowledgeable person, what do think? Will Kerry do it? She tells me – the thing is, tight elections are the damnedest thing. I think Kerry may pull it off. You know why? Because of the flu vaccine! Bush was in charge, people are angry. How could this happen here, in America? He had no answer to give them. Kerry was wise during the debate and said nothing, then did his research and now is campaigning on what needs to happen in the future to ensure that we do not have a shortage again! I mean, I’m not getting my shot because I’m not in the “highest risk” category [nc: she is acc. to my charts, but what the hey], but I am going to be damn mad when November 2nd rolls around and I’m home with the flu! Oh come on, your mind was made up before the first campaign slogan was put forth – I retort (you might say that liberal is too gentle a term for her). Yeah – she says – but watch me with a fever and aches and pains at home! I am going to be REALLY mad!
We are walking back up Bascom Hill and I ask her: So, well-connected politically-knowledgeable person, what do think? Will Kerry do it? She tells me – the thing is, tight elections are the damnedest thing. I think Kerry may pull it off. You know why? Because of the flu vaccine! Bush was in charge, people are angry. How could this happen here, in America? He had no answer to give them. Kerry was wise during the debate and said nothing, then did his research and now is campaigning on what needs to happen in the future to ensure that we do not have a shortage again! I mean, I’m not getting my shot because I’m not in the “highest risk” category [nc: she is acc. to my charts, but what the hey], but I am going to be damn mad when November 2nd rolls around and I’m home with the flu! Oh come on, your mind was made up before the first campaign slogan was put forth – I retort (you might say that liberal is too gentle a term for her). Yeah – she says – but watch me with a fever and aches and pains at home! I am going to be REALLY mad!
In spite of the corporate nature of the photo (Mr. Chrysler just HAD to have the tallest building in NY – so much so, that he kept the top hidden and a secret until the very last minute, so that it would not be outdistanced and so that it would amaze. It did amaze, but shortly after, it was outdistanced anyway, by the Empire State Building), I have to go on the record and admit that which I am sure has not yet become apparent: I love the “L” word! [And it angers me to hear this contempt for it, as reported on the news last night: “GWB is swinging away at Kerry for being a liberal” and on CNN: “Kerry is losing ground now because of Bush’s successful use of the liberal label on the campaign trail.”]
And so now I just have to lay down my cards and say it like it is. When I hear the word “liberal,” my heart soars and flutters with happiness.
Thus on the sweet sixteenth day before the election, let me take this blog into places on 16th street that celebrate the Left.
There is, for instance, the block between fifth and sixth avenues. Here stands the home of Alexander Trachtenberg, an American Communist who was indicted for publishing subversive books and pamphlets; his defense committee included Paul Robeson and W.E.B. DuBois. In general, this block was something of a “Lefty-Red” neighborhood in the 1940s and '50s.
In the next block you’ll find the New York City Free Clinic (run by NYU). I suppose this could be used as a model of health care delivery for the future. Who needs health insurance, let’s all just rely on the liberal lefties to jump in and do some direct servicing for the uninsured, the underinsured and the never-to-be-insured-under-the-GWB-next-4-years.
Then, we come to Union Square Park. The first Labor Day Parade took place here in the XIX century. Emma Goldman was arrested here in 1893 for telling the unemployed to steal bread. A funeral march was held here for the executed Rosenbergs the year I was born.
More? You want more? Corner of 16th and Irving houses the magazine the Nation, that leftie rag!
I could go on. Know where my heart is. With the “L” crowd and I am SO proud of it.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
And so now I just have to lay down my cards and say it like it is. When I hear the word “liberal,” my heart soars and flutters with happiness.
Thus on the sweet sixteenth day before the election, let me take this blog into places on 16th street that celebrate the Left.
There is, for instance, the block between fifth and sixth avenues. Here stands the home of Alexander Trachtenberg, an American Communist who was indicted for publishing subversive books and pamphlets; his defense committee included Paul Robeson and W.E.B. DuBois. In general, this block was something of a “Lefty-Red” neighborhood in the 1940s and '50s.
In the next block you’ll find the New York City Free Clinic (run by NYU). I suppose this could be used as a model of health care delivery for the future. Who needs health insurance, let’s all just rely on the liberal lefties to jump in and do some direct servicing for the uninsured, the underinsured and the never-to-be-insured-under-the-GWB-next-4-years.
Then, we come to Union Square Park. The first Labor Day Parade took place here in the XIX century. Emma Goldman was arrested here in 1893 for telling the unemployed to steal bread. A funeral march was held here for the executed Rosenbergs the year I was born.
More? You want more? Corner of 16th and Irving houses the magazine the Nation, that leftie rag!
I could go on. Know where my heart is. With the “L” crowd and I am SO proud of it.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Minding my “Ps”
Politics
I have to hand it to the NYTimes. The Magazine cover story today is the most thorough indictment of the Bush presidency I have read in a long time. Anyone with any commitment to reason over extremist faith-based leadership cannot read it and comfortably remain an advocate of GWB. What bothers me most is that this administration’s supporters, knowing what they know about Bush’s incompetence and unwillingness to base decisions on facts or reason are choosing to remain silent and to be in complicity with the president. Being a child of post-war Poland, I am too familiar with shrouds of silence – one that preceded the invasion of Poland on September 1st, 1939 comes to mind.
Predictions
I have reason to believe that: 1.there will be more snow in Madison this year than we’ve had in a long time; 2. Althouse will not abandon Kerry-bashing in her blog before November 2nd (does she worry what fodder will feed the Instapundit links after the election? A Kerry win would, sadly, keep the doors open for continued commentary of the type we have been reading this past month); 3. The leaves in my yard will not get properly raked this fall; 4. L’Etoile will not be the L’Etoile we know and have grown accustomed to by year’s end. I will consider bets on any of the above, though interested parties and those who know me well are not permitted to play.
Polishness
You know, I just get embarrassed for my countrymen and women when I read interviews such as the one with the Polish Foreign Minister (NYT Magazine today). Highlight: NYT: Have you been watching the televised debates between President Bush and Senator Kerry? Cimoszewicz: I will not comment on the present position of the leading contenders. [nc: an overwhelming majority of foreign leaders have endorsed Kerry; not Poland! Ever hopeful for that investment of American capital, can’t it recognize that even after blindly counting itself as part of the coalition of the damned willing, no such investment is forthcoming?] Any high points in that interview? And admission that more than 70% of Poles, lovers of all things American that they are, now strongly oppose Poland’s support for the American invasion of Iraq. Is Cimoszewicz a fan of life in this country? He likes Central Park, George Gershwin, and a real American steak – though 'once a year' is enough for him. I guess it could have been worse. He could have said he favored Dallas for vacations and preferred a visit to Crawford over a stroll through Central Park. The steak, I'm thinking, is a nod toward the Lone Star state.
I have to hand it to the NYTimes. The Magazine cover story today is the most thorough indictment of the Bush presidency I have read in a long time. Anyone with any commitment to reason over extremist faith-based leadership cannot read it and comfortably remain an advocate of GWB. What bothers me most is that this administration’s supporters, knowing what they know about Bush’s incompetence and unwillingness to base decisions on facts or reason are choosing to remain silent and to be in complicity with the president. Being a child of post-war Poland, I am too familiar with shrouds of silence – one that preceded the invasion of Poland on September 1st, 1939 comes to mind.
Predictions
I have reason to believe that: 1.there will be more snow in Madison this year than we’ve had in a long time; 2. Althouse will not abandon Kerry-bashing in her blog before November 2nd (does she worry what fodder will feed the Instapundit links after the election? A Kerry win would, sadly, keep the doors open for continued commentary of the type we have been reading this past month); 3. The leaves in my yard will not get properly raked this fall; 4. L’Etoile will not be the L’Etoile we know and have grown accustomed to by year’s end. I will consider bets on any of the above, though interested parties and those who know me well are not permitted to play.
Polishness
You know, I just get embarrassed for my countrymen and women when I read interviews such as the one with the Polish Foreign Minister (NYT Magazine today). Highlight: NYT: Have you been watching the televised debates between President Bush and Senator Kerry? Cimoszewicz: I will not comment on the present position of the leading contenders. [nc: an overwhelming majority of foreign leaders have endorsed Kerry; not Poland! Ever hopeful for that investment of American capital, can’t it recognize that even after blindly counting itself as part of the coalition of the damned willing, no such investment is forthcoming?] Any high points in that interview? And admission that more than 70% of Poles, lovers of all things American that they are, now strongly oppose Poland’s support for the American invasion of Iraq. Is Cimoszewicz a fan of life in this country? He likes Central Park, George Gershwin, and a real American steak – though 'once a year' is enough for him. I guess it could have been worse. He could have said he favored Dallas for vacations and preferred a visit to Crawford over a stroll through Central Park. The steak, I'm thinking, is a nod toward the Lone Star state.
Seventeen days.
Washington Irving: a lawyer, writer, traveler.
Washington Irving High School (at the corner of 17th and Irving Place): the school rated as the most dangerous in all of Manhattan (it was ranked this year as almost ten times as violent as the average New York City School – razor blade slashing, for instance, are common, as are high suspension rates – the highest in the city, and low attendance rates – not surprisingly, the lowest in the city).
Under the federal “No Child Left Behind” law, this school has been identified as “in need of improvement.” However, from what I have been reading, at Washington Irving, the only resource that has been thrown at the school is an increased number of police officers.
Washington Irving: a lawyer, writer, traveler.
Washington Irving High School (at the corner of 17th and Irving Place): the school rated as the most dangerous in all of Manhattan (it was ranked this year as almost ten times as violent as the average New York City School – razor blade slashing, for instance, are common, as are high suspension rates – the highest in the city, and low attendance rates – not surprisingly, the lowest in the city).
Under the federal “No Child Left Behind” law, this school has been identified as “in need of improvement.” However, from what I have been reading, at Washington Irving, the only resource that has been thrown at the school is an increased number of police officers.
In a moving endorsement of Kerry, the NYT editors write the following today:
We look back on the past four years with hearts nearly breaking, both for the lives unnecessarily lost and for the opportunities so casually wasted. Time and again, history invited George W. Bush to play a heroic role, and time and again he chose the wrong course. We believe that with John Kerry as president, the nation will do better.
How can it be that anyone would still believe otherwise?
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
We look back on the past four years with hearts nearly breaking, both for the lives unnecessarily lost and for the opportunities so casually wasted. Time and again, history invited George W. Bush to play a heroic role, and time and again he chose the wrong course. We believe that with John Kerry as president, the nation will do better.
How can it be that anyone would still believe otherwise?
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Saturday, October 16, 2004
The wind this morning was unbelievable! Not only was there an occasional sprinkle, but the gusts tore at the Market tents with such force that many sellers had to hold poles firmly in place or they’d be swept away with the tempest.
This, of course, did not keep me home. But it was discouraging to come to L'Etoile and find a note asking me to, on top of everything else, pick out some five varieties of apples, totaling to maybe 80 plus pounds. And it was discouraging to have Chef O be in such a peppy chatty mood as she joined me on one of my rounds. It took the two of us two hours to circle the Square (can one really circle a square? I’m getting dangerously close to making an orange an apple here). I finally abandoned her at a cheese stand. Clearly she’s operating with different heat moments than I am.
So how cold, dark and wet was it? Note the seller at Harmony Valley (photo below) warming her hands in the heat of the lamp – which itself is on so that customers can see the vegetables in the dark, early morning hours.
Working both sides of the fence
I am not now, never have been, nor will ever be part of the management team at L’Etoile. But right now, neither am I exactly wage labor. It’s more like I’m a contracted service provider. And so I get to tune in to stories from both ends: from labor and from the boss. And like the true two-faced person that I am, I am openly sympathetic to both.
I am also sometimes the keeper of secrets for both. For instance, today, I asked Chef O how her day had gone yesterday (it had been her birthday – she is exactly half a year older than I am). Terrible! She tells me. She had bounced in for the staff meal, excited and ready for some tiny celebration on her behalf and there was…none. It kind of broke her heart. [People: you need to start taking the birthdays of others seriously. Presents, cards, the whole works. And never, ever take seriously such statements as “oh, don’t bother doing anything for me.” Nobody means that. Ever.]
Plagued by guilt and pity I went out and found the biggest bouquet I could get at the Market and passed it on to her. One day late, but what can you do.
However, in chatting to ‘labor,’ I found out that in reality, a bash is in the works for her, scheduled for our staff meeting this coming Monday evening. Of course, I can’t tell Chef O that.
Conversely, I cannot tell ‘labor’ that management has a stunning announcement to make on that day. While everyone is busy busy readying the place for a celebration, management is busy busy with its own little surprise.
So here I am, anticipating a tempest and a celebration. How will it all end? Tune in Monday evening. My lips are sealed until then (to my knowledge, no one from L’Etoile tracks this blog; but I am taking no chances).
This, of course, did not keep me home. But it was discouraging to come to L'Etoile and find a note asking me to, on top of everything else, pick out some five varieties of apples, totaling to maybe 80 plus pounds. And it was discouraging to have Chef O be in such a peppy chatty mood as she joined me on one of my rounds. It took the two of us two hours to circle the Square (can one really circle a square? I’m getting dangerously close to making an orange an apple here). I finally abandoned her at a cheese stand. Clearly she’s operating with different heat moments than I am.
So how cold, dark and wet was it? Note the seller at Harmony Valley (photo below) warming her hands in the heat of the lamp – which itself is on so that customers can see the vegetables in the dark, early morning hours.
Working both sides of the fence
I am not now, never have been, nor will ever be part of the management team at L’Etoile. But right now, neither am I exactly wage labor. It’s more like I’m a contracted service provider. And so I get to tune in to stories from both ends: from labor and from the boss. And like the true two-faced person that I am, I am openly sympathetic to both.
I am also sometimes the keeper of secrets for both. For instance, today, I asked Chef O how her day had gone yesterday (it had been her birthday – she is exactly half a year older than I am). Terrible! She tells me. She had bounced in for the staff meal, excited and ready for some tiny celebration on her behalf and there was…none. It kind of broke her heart. [People: you need to start taking the birthdays of others seriously. Presents, cards, the whole works. And never, ever take seriously such statements as “oh, don’t bother doing anything for me.” Nobody means that. Ever.]
Plagued by guilt and pity I went out and found the biggest bouquet I could get at the Market and passed it on to her. One day late, but what can you do.
However, in chatting to ‘labor,’ I found out that in reality, a bash is in the works for her, scheduled for our staff meeting this coming Monday evening. Of course, I can’t tell Chef O that.
Conversely, I cannot tell ‘labor’ that management has a stunning announcement to make on that day. While everyone is busy busy readying the place for a celebration, management is busy busy with its own little surprise.
So here I am, anticipating a tempest and a celebration. How will it all end? Tune in Monday evening. My lips are sealed until then (to my knowledge, no one from L’Etoile tracks this blog; but I am taking no chances).
Eighteen days...
At the corner of 18th and Irving Place you can find Pete’s Tavern, the oldest continuously operating tavern in New York. (During the Prohibition it disguised itself as a flower shop.) Sometimes called O’Henry’s place (he frequented it as the turn of the century), it is indeed a landmark. Even though the original Pete (Pete Belles) did not want to be famous back in 1864 when he opened the place. He just wanted his own tavern.
Tick tock, tick tock, 127 years later, Ruth MacLeod is at the Tavern. It is a nice summer evening and tables are set outdoors, inside a guard-rail. Ruth is there, so is a group of waiters and customers. She needs to pass through, but the waiters are chatting up the customers and so she needs to step around them, outside the guard rail. There is an indentation in the sidewalk. She stumbles and falls (Torts class! An open and shut slip & fall case??). She sues Pete’s. The issue becomes whether the tavern's duty of care extends beyond the guardrail.
On appeal, the court said no and the complaint against Pete’s Tavern was dismissed. (Properly, don’t you think?)
Compare and contrast:
Tick tock, tick tock, a year later (in that most publicized of cases, so think about it, this is the most debatable jury award), 79 year-old Stella Liebeck sustains 3rd degree burns, requiring hospitalization and skin grafts, after she spills coffee purchased at McDonald’s. Does McDonald’s know the coffee is too hot to serve or drink? Yes, having had 700 recorded severe burns in the decade prior to this case, they knew. Were they willing to reduce the temperature (that was held at nearly 50 degrees above the industry standard)? No, that would have reduced the optimal brewing capacity of every last grind. What would get them to reconsider? A large punitive damages award (large in a manner of speaking; the jury award, reduced considerably afterwards, was equal to two days’ worth of coffee sales for the chain), shifting the cost-benefit calculus, so that it no longer paid for them to serve dangerously hot beverages. Was Stella thinking of lawsuits as her son pulled out of the drive-up the day she opened the cup to put in the cream and sugar? No, she just wanted a cup of coffee.
Litigation, regulation… I heard GWB last night speak to a crowd in Wisconsin about the dangers of both. About the need to free companies of regulatory restrictions and free each and every one of us from frivolous litigation. I wonder what the hell he was talking about?
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
At the corner of 18th and Irving Place you can find Pete’s Tavern, the oldest continuously operating tavern in New York. (During the Prohibition it disguised itself as a flower shop.) Sometimes called O’Henry’s place (he frequented it as the turn of the century), it is indeed a landmark. Even though the original Pete (Pete Belles) did not want to be famous back in 1864 when he opened the place. He just wanted his own tavern.
Tick tock, tick tock, 127 years later, Ruth MacLeod is at the Tavern. It is a nice summer evening and tables are set outdoors, inside a guard-rail. Ruth is there, so is a group of waiters and customers. She needs to pass through, but the waiters are chatting up the customers and so she needs to step around them, outside the guard rail. There is an indentation in the sidewalk. She stumbles and falls (Torts class! An open and shut slip & fall case??). She sues Pete’s. The issue becomes whether the tavern's duty of care extends beyond the guardrail.
On appeal, the court said no and the complaint against Pete’s Tavern was dismissed. (Properly, don’t you think?)
Compare and contrast:
Tick tock, tick tock, a year later (in that most publicized of cases, so think about it, this is the most debatable jury award), 79 year-old Stella Liebeck sustains 3rd degree burns, requiring hospitalization and skin grafts, after she spills coffee purchased at McDonald’s. Does McDonald’s know the coffee is too hot to serve or drink? Yes, having had 700 recorded severe burns in the decade prior to this case, they knew. Were they willing to reduce the temperature (that was held at nearly 50 degrees above the industry standard)? No, that would have reduced the optimal brewing capacity of every last grind. What would get them to reconsider? A large punitive damages award (large in a manner of speaking; the jury award, reduced considerably afterwards, was equal to two days’ worth of coffee sales for the chain), shifting the cost-benefit calculus, so that it no longer paid for them to serve dangerously hot beverages. Was Stella thinking of lawsuits as her son pulled out of the drive-up the day she opened the cup to put in the cream and sugar? No, she just wanted a cup of coffee.
Litigation, regulation… I heard GWB last night speak to a crowd in Wisconsin about the dangers of both. About the need to free companies of regulatory restrictions and free each and every one of us from frivolous litigation. I wonder what the hell he was talking about?
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Friday, October 15, 2004
A cautionary tale about ham
I want to give a deferential nod to the power of lobbying efforts. You always imagine that in the higher echelons of the legislature, reason will prevail and no lobbyist will be able to convince a decision-maker that an apple is really an orange. But we should heed the lessons coming to us from Italy. Because there, it has been officially proclaimed that prosciutto (or for that matter its variations: prosciutto cotto (cooked) and crudo (raw), coppa, cotechino, guanciale, lardo, lonza, mortadella, pancetta, porchetta, salsiccia, salumi, spalla and speck) does not belong to the meat group. It stands alone, it is a category in its own right, it is a protected local product, enthusiastically handed to vegetarians requesting a meatless dish. (Read about it in the International Herald Tribune, here.)
If the Italians can convince each other that Parma ham is not a meat, then I fear we are nanoseconds (JK rules in his choice of words!) away from allowing ourselves to be convinced that GWB is indeed a steward of the land. The world is becoming a very complicated place indeed.
If the Italians can convince each other that Parma ham is not a meat, then I fear we are nanoseconds (JK rules in his choice of words!) away from allowing ourselves to be convinced that GWB is indeed a steward of the land. The world is becoming a very complicated place indeed.
Listening to the news today, nineteen mornings before we hit the voting booths, I was dumbfounded to hear the Republican desperation as they cling still to an “L” theme (choice for today: Lesbian). I thought I myself had beaten the “L” issue to death in my most recent post. Indeed, GWB’s team is abandoning Love for Laura as, in spite of her strength as a woman, she appears not to be a strong enough ace in the deck to knock the wind out of the Kerry kitesurf as he stunningly careens his way to the lead after the last debate. Thus the search continues for an “L” replacement and for now, as panic sets in (you ‘lost’ three debates in a row, how could you lose three debates in a row??), the crazed desire to change the post-debate spin is ON!
Nineteen days and I am reminded of the lyrics to a Stones song. Were they anticipating this moment in time when indeed, the GWB campaign would lose it?
When you were a child
You were treated kind
But you were never brought up right.
You were always spoiled with a thousand toys
…
You better stop
Look around
Here it comes, here it comes, here it comes, here it comes
Here comes your nineteenth nervous breakdown!
And what’s with the Fishs Eddy banner in the photo above? It’s a delightful store on 19th street (named after a small flyfishing town in the Catskills), selling American-made china, often salvaged from ocean liners, restaurants, or airlines, sometimes creatively designed just for today’s quirky buyer. They have an interesting home page on their website. Seemingly bi-partisan (but not really if you read it carefully -- and I apologize, I have yet to figure out how to phtograph a computer screen with a sharper resolution), they do indeed get their message across, in big bold orange blocks (lost in the photo is the line right below which reads Election Day is Tuesday November 2, 2004. MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD!):
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Nineteen days and I am reminded of the lyrics to a Stones song. Were they anticipating this moment in time when indeed, the GWB campaign would lose it?
When you were a child
You were treated kind
But you were never brought up right.
You were always spoiled with a thousand toys
…
You better stop
Look around
Here it comes, here it comes, here it comes, here it comes
Here comes your nineteenth nervous breakdown!
And what’s with the Fishs Eddy banner in the photo above? It’s a delightful store on 19th street (named after a small flyfishing town in the Catskills), selling American-made china, often salvaged from ocean liners, restaurants, or airlines, sometimes creatively designed just for today’s quirky buyer. They have an interesting home page on their website. Seemingly bi-partisan (but not really if you read it carefully -- and I apologize, I have yet to figure out how to phtograph a computer screen with a sharper resolution), they do indeed get their message across, in big bold orange blocks (lost in the photo is the line right below which reads Election Day is Tuesday November 2, 2004. MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD!):
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Twenty days…
TR
What would have been the Theodore Roosevelt Way to approach a debate? Certainly with a great command of the facts, a tremendous concern for the environment, for social justice, women’s rights, corporate responsibility and a call to end American isolationism abroad.
Familiar themes, aren’t they? Reading a biography of TR is enlightening. The 26th president’s interests and talents were stunningly multifarious. How can I be so presumptuous as to suggest that we overlap in some way? Oh, but there is indeed an area: it is said of him that he had a love of keeping connected to his friends and contacts through writing letters. Indeed, he appeared to have written well over 150,000 letters in his lifetime. Had he email, I’m sure the number would have been ten times that.
The “L” letter
Last night, 9 people came together (here) to listen carefully for the dreaded “L” word. It was announced prior to the debate that the evening would be one monstrous “L” attack as well as a defense of “L”-ness.
But in signaling this, the newscaster forgot to provide specifics. What “L” theme would be foisted on us, causing anarchy and chaos, moving us away from the “march to freedom?” [Thank you to the person last night who did a reenactment for me just to illustrate how that march might look. It was a militaristic moment.]
A stipulation for the evening: no drinking games (but it was so tempting, so tempting, especially when one heard such cunning lines as “I sent my budget man…”). One had to be alert to catch the moment went “L” would LEAP from the podium.
And so what happened? Did we miss it? Because, although there were a lot of “L” words floating around, no devastating punch was levied against the “L” leaning candidate. And which of the various "Ls" was the intended coup de grace? I’m running down my list of “L” candidates from last night: Was it Litmus test? Or Left? Or Left behind? Or Lesbian? Was it Legal reform and Litigation (said in one sentence, sort of like a punch and then a follow-up kick)? Or Lawsuit and Liability reform (also in one sentence; clearly GWB is tuned to the legal system)? You know, I bet it was Love. Because the press seems to believe that the crowning moment of glory for Bush (of all three debates) came when he spoke of his wife, Laura. Laura, hey that is IT! The intended punch at Kerry who has no Laura in his life! A good reason not to vote for him? You bet! Every presidnet needs a Laura to Love in order to do well in the White House! Love my wife Laura – 2 “Ls,” delivering the cataclysmic blow to Kerry who, struggling to survive, had to come up with Love for Mom. Not quite up there with Laura, but close enough in alphabet. Teresa is too far down the letter line-up. [And thank you, Mr. Schieffer, for coming up with the stupidest final Q of the debates.]
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
a photo of Rosemary Forbes Kerry:
TR
What would have been the Theodore Roosevelt Way to approach a debate? Certainly with a great command of the facts, a tremendous concern for the environment, for social justice, women’s rights, corporate responsibility and a call to end American isolationism abroad.
Familiar themes, aren’t they? Reading a biography of TR is enlightening. The 26th president’s interests and talents were stunningly multifarious. How can I be so presumptuous as to suggest that we overlap in some way? Oh, but there is indeed an area: it is said of him that he had a love of keeping connected to his friends and contacts through writing letters. Indeed, he appeared to have written well over 150,000 letters in his lifetime. Had he email, I’m sure the number would have been ten times that.
The “L” letter
Last night, 9 people came together (here) to listen carefully for the dreaded “L” word. It was announced prior to the debate that the evening would be one monstrous “L” attack as well as a defense of “L”-ness.
But in signaling this, the newscaster forgot to provide specifics. What “L” theme would be foisted on us, causing anarchy and chaos, moving us away from the “march to freedom?” [Thank you to the person last night who did a reenactment for me just to illustrate how that march might look. It was a militaristic moment.]
A stipulation for the evening: no drinking games (but it was so tempting, so tempting, especially when one heard such cunning lines as “I sent my budget man…”). One had to be alert to catch the moment went “L” would LEAP from the podium.
And so what happened? Did we miss it? Because, although there were a lot of “L” words floating around, no devastating punch was levied against the “L” leaning candidate. And which of the various "Ls" was the intended coup de grace? I’m running down my list of “L” candidates from last night: Was it Litmus test? Or Left? Or Left behind? Or Lesbian? Was it Legal reform and Litigation (said in one sentence, sort of like a punch and then a follow-up kick)? Or Lawsuit and Liability reform (also in one sentence; clearly GWB is tuned to the legal system)? You know, I bet it was Love. Because the press seems to believe that the crowning moment of glory for Bush (of all three debates) came when he spoke of his wife, Laura. Laura, hey that is IT! The intended punch at Kerry who has no Laura in his life! A good reason not to vote for him? You bet! Every presidnet needs a Laura to Love in order to do well in the White House! Love my wife Laura – 2 “Ls,” delivering the cataclysmic blow to Kerry who, struggling to survive, had to come up with Love for Mom. Not quite up there with Laura, but close enough in alphabet. Teresa is too far down the letter line-up. [And thank you, Mr. Schieffer, for coming up with the stupidest final Q of the debates.]
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
a photo of Rosemary Forbes Kerry:
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Yet another post that demonstrates my commitment to both sides of the political spectrum
I want to show my open-mindedness. I want to understand those who are deeply, passionately committed to the current president. And so (with guidance from my neighbor –thanks!) I went to the hometown of our folksy man to read about the support offered to him by the locals.
I was disappointed.
Instead of a yipee-tayay-yey (is that what they shout in a small town in Texas?) in support of their local hero, GWB’s hometown paper has just announced that it is leaving George behind.
Here are excerpts from an editorial appearing in the Lone Star Iconoclast (the newspaper from Crawford, Texas):
The publishers of The Iconoclast endorsed Bush four years ago, based on the things he promised, not on this smoke-screened agenda.Today, we are endorsing his opponent, John Kerry, based not only on the things that Bush has delivered, but also on the vision of a return to normality that Kerry says our country needs.…
We believed [Bush], just as we believed it when he reported that Iraq was the heart of terrorism. We trusted him.The Iconoclast, the President’s hometown newspaper, took Bush on his word and editorialized in favor of the invasion. The newspaper’s publisher promoted Bush and the invasion of Iraq to Londoners in a BBC interview during the time that the administration was wooing the support of Prime Minister Tony Blair.Again, he let us down.
…
That’s why The Iconoclast urges Texans not to rate the candidate by his hometown or even his political party, but instead by where he intends to take the country. The Iconoclast wholeheartedly endorses John Kerry.
True, the paper has a weekly circulation of 425 and perhaps it has been infiltrated by communists and pacifists in the last four years. In any case, my search for a better understanding of the GWB’s fan base continues. Crawford, Texas did not deliver.
I was disappointed.
Instead of a yipee-tayay-yey (is that what they shout in a small town in Texas?) in support of their local hero, GWB’s hometown paper has just announced that it is leaving George behind.
Here are excerpts from an editorial appearing in the Lone Star Iconoclast (the newspaper from Crawford, Texas):
The publishers of The Iconoclast endorsed Bush four years ago, based on the things he promised, not on this smoke-screened agenda.Today, we are endorsing his opponent, John Kerry, based not only on the things that Bush has delivered, but also on the vision of a return to normality that Kerry says our country needs.…
We believed [Bush], just as we believed it when he reported that Iraq was the heart of terrorism. We trusted him.The Iconoclast, the President’s hometown newspaper, took Bush on his word and editorialized in favor of the invasion. The newspaper’s publisher promoted Bush and the invasion of Iraq to Londoners in a BBC interview during the time that the administration was wooing the support of Prime Minister Tony Blair.Again, he let us down.
…
That’s why The Iconoclast urges Texans not to rate the candidate by his hometown or even his political party, but instead by where he intends to take the country. The Iconoclast wholeheartedly endorses John Kerry.
True, the paper has a weekly circulation of 425 and perhaps it has been infiltrated by communists and pacifists in the last four years. In any case, my search for a better understanding of the GWB’s fan base continues. Crawford, Texas did not deliver.
The very first offices of The New Republic were housed in buildings on the far west side of 21st street. Virginia Woolf once wrote for the New Republic (see VW post below; the intricate connections between events, people, circumstances are amazing).
Reading the editorial of TNR today, 21 days before the election, will put you right in the middle of where we, indeed ought to be: Darfur. As the editors points out (here), it is the one place where even a very small dose of “American might” can make a significant difference in stabilization efforts. It is an opportunity that the current administration refuses to take and one that Kerry is willing to consider. In the words of TNR:
[B]y hammering home this message [of a willingness to send stabilizing troops], Kerry would show how absent Bush has been. After all, it is Bush, not Kerry, who is now presiding over 6,000 to 10,000 Darfurian deaths each month. It is up to Bush, as president, to stop the genocide.
Tonight is, of course, the night of the last debate and Darfur will not be on the agenda. And in any case, few of those who are still undecided would consider the Darfur issue as crucial, even though what happens here on November 2nd will determine the fate of thousands in Sudan. It is frightening to give such power to a voter who can’t even point to Sudan on a global map let alone comprehend the importance of providing support to the region.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Reading the editorial of TNR today, 21 days before the election, will put you right in the middle of where we, indeed ought to be: Darfur. As the editors points out (here), it is the one place where even a very small dose of “American might” can make a significant difference in stabilization efforts. It is an opportunity that the current administration refuses to take and one that Kerry is willing to consider. In the words of TNR:
[B]y hammering home this message [of a willingness to send stabilizing troops], Kerry would show how absent Bush has been. After all, it is Bush, not Kerry, who is now presiding over 6,000 to 10,000 Darfurian deaths each month. It is up to Bush, as president, to stop the genocide.
Tonight is, of course, the night of the last debate and Darfur will not be on the agenda. And in any case, few of those who are still undecided would consider the Darfur issue as crucial, even though what happens here on November 2nd will determine the fate of thousands in Sudan. It is frightening to give such power to a voter who can’t even point to Sudan on a global map let alone comprehend the importance of providing support to the region.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
Tuesday vignettes
Polishness
A friend just told me that she’d met a Polish couple in my neighborhood. Polish? Here? Yes, yes, she said – she spent time with them at the Polish Film Festival last year. I asked her how she liked the films. She hesitated, then admitted that they were kind of weird. A lot of animation, crazy stuff, squiggly lines – it made her dizzy so that she had to leave. And the Polish couple? Well – she answered – they were really into it. But they said you had to be Polish to understand it. Polish people have a certain way of looking at themselves that is really different. Most people can’t understand it; they kept saying – you had to be Polish to get it. I get it.
Cuban cigars
Another friend offered me a Cuban cigar. Did you smoke it? You hate smoking, smokers, smoke. You smoked it, didn’t you? Vices in small doses, if they hurt no one, can be very satisfying. Was it satisfying? No. And I can’t get the damn taste out of my mouth. I should have known better. I hate smoke, smoking, smoke-related anything, with the exception, perhaps, of smoked salmon. Never again.
Chinese tea, e-mail and Virginia Woolf
In a more virtuous vein, my walking buddy (I hereby gratefully acknowledge all three of you –K,K and S- for your indulgence of my walking addiction) brewed for me a pot of tea. She has recently traveled to China and she has with her a supply of tea leaves that I’m sure rivals in size the raked pile of fallen leaves outside my window. We sipped tea and talked about banes and vices. What’s yours, she asks. Email, I say without hesitation. I am a compulsive email-answerer. You send it, I answer. In fact, I’ll answer before you even send it. Colleagues will send a Q and bingo! There‘s a reply. You’d think that this would be regarded favorably? Oh no, it places the ball in their park again so instead of feeling deep satisfaction at having crossed off an item from their list, the item is right back on there. My friend kindly suggested that the compulsion is driven by a writer’s temperament. The medium is an odd weapon for people who feel compelled to formulate sentences and stories every waking hour of the day. Imagine the odd behaviors, she said, that would follow, if you placed email in the hands of Virginia Woolf.
I suppose I agree. And how much worse it would be to receive brilliance in your Inbox rather than the trite stuff I place there! Consider this exert from a Woolf essay where she contemplates writing (though in truth, we are in the dark what meaning lies behind these words, because Woolf can be painfully difficult to comprehend; here, you can almost believe that she is writing about email!) and imagine the strain of finding such words in your Inbox were she your acquaintance (emphases are my own):
Is it not possible that the accent falls a little differently, that the moment of importance came before or after, that, if one were free and could set down what one chose, there would be no plot, little probability, and a vague general confusion in which the clear-cut features of the tragic, the comic, the passionate and the lyrical were dissolved beyond the possibility of separate recognition? The mind, exposed to the ordinary course of life, receives upon its surface a myriad impressions—trivial, fantastic, evanescent, or engraved with the sharpness of steel. From all sides they come, an incessant shower of innumerable atoms, composing in their sum what we might venture to call life itself; and to figure further as the semi-transparent envelope, or luminous halo, surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.
A friend just told me that she’d met a Polish couple in my neighborhood. Polish? Here? Yes, yes, she said – she spent time with them at the Polish Film Festival last year. I asked her how she liked the films. She hesitated, then admitted that they were kind of weird. A lot of animation, crazy stuff, squiggly lines – it made her dizzy so that she had to leave. And the Polish couple? Well – she answered – they were really into it. But they said you had to be Polish to understand it. Polish people have a certain way of looking at themselves that is really different. Most people can’t understand it; they kept saying – you had to be Polish to get it. I get it.
Cuban cigars
Another friend offered me a Cuban cigar. Did you smoke it? You hate smoking, smokers, smoke. You smoked it, didn’t you? Vices in small doses, if they hurt no one, can be very satisfying. Was it satisfying? No. And I can’t get the damn taste out of my mouth. I should have known better. I hate smoke, smoking, smoke-related anything, with the exception, perhaps, of smoked salmon. Never again.
Chinese tea, e-mail and Virginia Woolf
In a more virtuous vein, my walking buddy (I hereby gratefully acknowledge all three of you –K,K and S- for your indulgence of my walking addiction) brewed for me a pot of tea. She has recently traveled to China and she has with her a supply of tea leaves that I’m sure rivals in size the raked pile of fallen leaves outside my window. We sipped tea and talked about banes and vices. What’s yours, she asks. Email, I say without hesitation. I am a compulsive email-answerer. You send it, I answer. In fact, I’ll answer before you even send it. Colleagues will send a Q and bingo! There‘s a reply. You’d think that this would be regarded favorably? Oh no, it places the ball in their park again so instead of feeling deep satisfaction at having crossed off an item from their list, the item is right back on there. My friend kindly suggested that the compulsion is driven by a writer’s temperament. The medium is an odd weapon for people who feel compelled to formulate sentences and stories every waking hour of the day. Imagine the odd behaviors, she said, that would follow, if you placed email in the hands of Virginia Woolf.
I suppose I agree. And how much worse it would be to receive brilliance in your Inbox rather than the trite stuff I place there! Consider this exert from a Woolf essay where she contemplates writing (though in truth, we are in the dark what meaning lies behind these words, because Woolf can be painfully difficult to comprehend; here, you can almost believe that she is writing about email!) and imagine the strain of finding such words in your Inbox were she your acquaintance (emphases are my own):
Is it not possible that the accent falls a little differently, that the moment of importance came before or after, that, if one were free and could set down what one chose, there would be no plot, little probability, and a vague general confusion in which the clear-cut features of the tragic, the comic, the passionate and the lyrical were dissolved beyond the possibility of separate recognition? The mind, exposed to the ordinary course of life, receives upon its surface a myriad impressions—trivial, fantastic, evanescent, or engraved with the sharpness of steel. From all sides they come, an incessant shower of innumerable atoms, composing in their sum what we might venture to call life itself; and to figure further as the semi-transparent envelope, or luminous halo, surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
There is a mist this morning that makes the outdoors look like a muted painting. Were I an artist, I could do a lot with the colors and tones right now.
This morning the Washington Post describes (here) the different level of enthusiasm demonstrated by crowds during campaign stops. Bush supporters are likened to fans at a rock concert. They are wildly enthusiastic about their candidate. True, they are heavily screened – only contributors and volunteers and registered supporters are given tickets.
In Kerry-land, crowds are divided 50 – 50 between support for their candidate and hatred of Bush. Reactions to Kerry’s fact-based speeches are more subdued, polite almost.
What consistently draws the biggest, wildest cheers for Bush? His relentlessly repeated message of putting a cap on jury awards and opposition to gay marriage!
Reading this almost drains the color from the day. We have a new cult figure – with weeping women standing in the rain, holding hand-made signs with Biblical messages scribbled across, waving them fanatically, screaming love for the president. They are 100% behind their man, they say. It’s not against Kerry or his policies or any of that – it’s all about their folksy hero, GW.
If this sounds like a bleak assessment of what inspires so many of the voters, only 22 days before the election, no less, let me end with a note of color. My neighbor, ever the optimist, is convinced that Kerry is now firmly in the lead. He has deconstructed the ABC poll (which has Kerry trailing slightly) and remains convinced that it is not representative of American public opinion. I’ll accept that for now. I’m willing to look for that burst of color in a monochromatic landscape. Hey, look below – it’s a photo from 22nd street in NY, followed by a photo taken this morning of freshly-cut flowers from my back yard. That’s right, in October, blooming roses and lavender and honeysuckle. I’m not averting my eyes to the signs of color, I’m not. [It would help if I don’t read things like “Passions runs high for GWB” or “Bush's speeches and their settings are largely emotional celebrations of conservatism” first thing in the morning.]
Time to make another contribution to the campaign I think. I’m hoping that others are doing the same.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
This morning the Washington Post describes (here) the different level of enthusiasm demonstrated by crowds during campaign stops. Bush supporters are likened to fans at a rock concert. They are wildly enthusiastic about their candidate. True, they are heavily screened – only contributors and volunteers and registered supporters are given tickets.
In Kerry-land, crowds are divided 50 – 50 between support for their candidate and hatred of Bush. Reactions to Kerry’s fact-based speeches are more subdued, polite almost.
What consistently draws the biggest, wildest cheers for Bush? His relentlessly repeated message of putting a cap on jury awards and opposition to gay marriage!
Reading this almost drains the color from the day. We have a new cult figure – with weeping women standing in the rain, holding hand-made signs with Biblical messages scribbled across, waving them fanatically, screaming love for the president. They are 100% behind their man, they say. It’s not against Kerry or his policies or any of that – it’s all about their folksy hero, GW.
If this sounds like a bleak assessment of what inspires so many of the voters, only 22 days before the election, no less, let me end with a note of color. My neighbor, ever the optimist, is convinced that Kerry is now firmly in the lead. He has deconstructed the ABC poll (which has Kerry trailing slightly) and remains convinced that it is not representative of American public opinion. I’ll accept that for now. I’m willing to look for that burst of color in a monochromatic landscape. Hey, look below – it’s a photo from 22nd street in NY, followed by a photo taken this morning of freshly-cut flowers from my back yard. That’s right, in October, blooming roses and lavender and honeysuckle. I’m not averting my eyes to the signs of color, I’m not. [It would help if I don’t read things like “Passions runs high for GWB” or “Bush's speeches and their settings are largely emotional celebrations of conservatism” first thing in the morning.]
Time to make another contribution to the campaign I think. I’m hoping that others are doing the same.
(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)
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