My apparent cousin Ben Worthen had an interesting piece in the WSJ this morning about how stepped-up security measures at airports are making it harder for chefs to smuggle foreign meat products in their pants.

Really.

This inspires several comments:

• First, some of you foodies have really lost control. You are bereft of any sense of proportion or priorities. This is decadent in the extreme. It’s perverse. Get over it. Stop being such slaves to your stomachs. Smuggling goose liver? Come on, people. See if you can understand what I’m about to say: We have all the food we need right here in this country. If no one in America ever gets to eat these esoteric morsels, we’ll be just fine. Now step away from the foie gras terrine…
• Second, we should examine our meat importation regulations to see if they’re reasonable. On the surface, it seems perfectly reasonable, as a public safety measure, to require that any imported meat be processed at a U.S.-approved facility. The “unintended consequence” of preventing the importation of obscure items from little villages seems completely acceptable to me. Once again, nobody, but nobody, needs this stuff. It’s just a way for people with too much money to throw it away…
• Third, you should go have a long talk with Emile DeFelice. Put your state on your plate. Go read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver et al. And let those little villages in Europe have their special little gastronomic delights (if that, indeed, is what they are). The reason these chefs are smuggling this stuff is so they can reverse-engineer these foods and produce it themselves and make a lot of money from it. They are stealing what makes those little villages special. How is that a good thing?

Much more could be said, but I’ll stop there for now…

OK, folks, now that you’re in session, go ahead and pass the Sanford censure resolution and move on to more important matters. Do NOT waste another session on this guy.

For years, everyone who knows the score has been talking about how irrelevant this guy is, and yet we keep wasting time on him — which of course means he gets his way. It both strokes his narcissism and accomplishes his goal of making sure government accomplishes nothing, which in term feeds dissatisfaction with government, which in turn helps those who embrace his nihilistic, antisocial approach to government (the “let’s just not do anything” crowd) win more elections.

Ride roughshod over any objections — from Jake Knotts, from Democrats, from Glenn McConnell (and what was that foolishness about when he said the Senate may not get to it; could it be just the usual Senate childishness about ideas that originate in the House?) from his dwindling scattering of supporters — and get this thing done. Then do the one thing that Mark Sanford least wants: Ignore him entirely, until he is replaced. We have too much that needs doing in this state to waste time following any other course. And we’ve definitely wasted far, far too much on this guy.

My former colleagues may have been wrong when they refused to call on the governor to resign (and they were), but they’re right about this.

As you know, I’ve long been a fan of the full-page obits in The Economist — one per issue — because they were beautifully written, they almost always told me interesting things I didn’t know about my world, and they inspired in me a certain wistfulness for not having known about these people, or known more about them, when they were living.

Sometimes I run across such obits in other publications as well. Today, I learned of the sudden death of Mighty Joe Rollino, struck down in his prime at 104. Yep, that’s right:

People called him the Great Joe Rollino, the Mighty Joe Rollino and even the World’s Strongest Man, and what did it matter if at least one of those people was Mr. Rollino himself.

On Monday morning, Mr. Rollino went for a walk in his Brooklyn neighborhood, a daily routine. It was part of the Great Joe Rollino’s greatest feat, a display of physical dexterity and stamina so subtle that it revealed itself only if you happened to ask him his date of birth: March 19, 1905. He was 104 years old and counting.

A few minutes before 7 a.m., as Mr. Rollino was crossing Bay Ridge Parkway at 13th Avenue, a 1999 Ford Windstar minivan struck him. The police said he suffered fractures to his pelvis, chest, ribs and face, as well as head trauma. Unconscious, he was taken to Lutheran Medical Center, where he later died…

Wow. The rest of the piece is worth reading as well — for what you learn about Mighty Joe’s life, that is, not his death. Not quite as elegantly written as those in The Economist, perhaps, but fascinating nonetheless.

Noting the reports that Gresham Barrett has outstripped the others running for governor (more than $2 million and counting), I found myself wondering, what are those donors hoping to achieve with their gifts?

I mean that in the purest sense: Obviously, these folks want to see Rep. Barrett elected, and I’m wondering why? And I ask that because I have yet to understand his reasons for running. In the one interview I’ve had with him on the subject, back during my last week at the newspaper, I was struck by the degree to which he had little to say beyond, essentially, I’m a conservative Republican, so elect me. Nothing in particular about anything he’s like to achieve if he wins the post. And I haven’t seen anything more substantial than that from him since, but I’ve been distracted, so maybe I missed something.

Now I realize that in certain circles “I’m a conservative Republican” is just chock full o’ meaning, a heckuva compelling argument, but it doesn’t mean enough to me to motivate me to vote for or against a candidate. I want something more precise to hang my hat on. And while I can almost understand people voting for a guy based on nothing more than that airy impression, it baffles me that anyone would actually lay down hard cash in support of anything so vague.

This makes me think these donors know something that I don’t. So I’m wondering what that is. If you gave money to Gresham Barrett’s campaign, please help me understand, so I can decide whether I think you made a good investment or not.

Apparently, it’s been out for a good while — dating to 2008, I believe — but I only recently noticed the charming little bit of anti-smoking propaganda at the start of some DVDs I’ve watched. (I’m not sure whom to credit, but this group seems to have had something to do with it. Looking up the “California Department of Health Services, seen on the screen above, got me nowhere.)

What a pleasant, gentle, but devastatingly effective, way to get across a message. The bit at the end with the child reaching for the bubbles is particularly powerful, because of the way it indirectly invokes the fact that so very many children are trapped with noxious fumes — which is truly unforgivable, but this gets the point across without rancor.

Which is remarkable for such a simple idea. But sometimes those are the best.

Just in case y’all wanted to talk here about the thing they’re going on and on about on TV and in the more conventional regions of the blogosphere, I provide this post about the rather bland, yet anachronistically off-key, thing that Sen. Harry Reid said about Obama. To quote from the book that caused the tempest:

He [Reid] was wowed by Obama’s oratorical gifts and believed that the country was ready to embrace a black presidential candidate, especially one such as Obama — a ‘light-skinned’ African American ‘with no Negro dialect, unless he wanted to have one…

And just for comparison, here’s what Joe Biden — who, if you will recall, went on to become vice president of these United States — said in a similar vein and context. He said that Barack Obama was …

the first mainstream African-American who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy…

If you’ll recall, I stuck up for Joe at the time, in passing, because we all understood what he meant and he was right.

Seems to me that what Sen. Reid said was even less offensive than with the veep said, to the extent that either comment can be said to be offensive at all — which of course depends on your perspective.

Yeah, I get it — black folks can talk about the differences that skin tone make. Garrett Morris and Julian Bond could make an outrageous joke about it in the mid 1970s, and America laughed its keister off. I mean, white folks looked around nervously to make sure nobody saw them laughing at it, but they laughed. But more than three decades later, white politicians still have to be more careful than Caesar’s wife.

But Reid wasn’t making a wildly insensitive joke. He was remarking upon a well-established bit of conventional wisdom that holds that one of the manifestations of this country’s madness over race is that lighter-skinned non-whites are more acceptable to whites — and sometimes, to members of their own demographic group — than darker-skinned people. Sad, but at least arguably true.

As for “negro” — I missed when it became racist to use that word. It’s weird, and archaic. And I suppose it you really wanted to stretch, you could say it displays a willingness to distance oneself from black folks. But the worst you’d think it would engender would be an incredulous, “What did grandpa just say?” We are well one our way to “black” being seen as just as off, and I suppose I should brace myself for being called a racist for using it. But the thing is, I don’t like to refer to a person’s race at all (you know how white folks like to avoid the subject), so if I’m forced to because of the subject matter, I prefer to dispense with it in one quick syllable rather than seven, which to me seems like dwelling on the subject to an excessive degree. By the way, I’m old enough to remember when I resisted saying “black” — preferring “negro,” if I had to use a racial description — because I didn’t like the implication of extreme polarization that “black” and “white” suggested. (Besides, “black” people usually aren’t actually black, and “white” people are generally kinda pink.) But I eventually got used to it.

Anyway, I can’t believe I just spent this many words on something that is another one of those stupid things they talk about on 24/7 TV “news” to avoid talking about anything important. To the extent that Mr. Reid offended anyone (and I’m sure some were sincerely offended, because the human capacity to perceive offense is considerable), he should be sorry. And I believe he is on record as being that. It didn’t bother Obama. So that’s that.

Oh, one more thing — and Kathryn, forgive me for this bit of insensitivity on my part toward non-Southerners — but you know what that remark sounded like to me? It sounds like something some guy from a part of the country where there aren’t many black people would say. Only a guy from Nevada or some such could be so tone-deaf.

Today at Rotary, we had a very entertaining presentation by fellow Rotarian Andy Witt from the Cultural Council and a cast of several. We had live performances by a barbershop quartet, ballet dancers, a violinist, and probably some other good stuff I’m forgetting, and it was quite enjoyable. It had the desired effect of making us glad such fine things are available in our community.

We also learned from Rex Wilson (who did a much better job with Health and Happiness than I ever have) that Edventure just got a grant of $1.3 million. (Catherine Horne, who runs that museum, is also a member of the club.) This was greeted with general, congratulatory applause.

Anyway, after the meeting my good friend Hal Stevenson said he’d like to see some debate on the merits of that $1.3 million grant, which — and I had missed this when the announcement was made — came from federal stimulus funds. Was this, he asked, a proper priority for spending our hard-earned tax dollars (or, in the case of stimulus funds, our future hard-earned tax dollars, and our children’s and grandchildren’s as well)?

As a conservative guy who nevertheless is a very fair-minded listener to the views of those who disagree, Hal particularly chafed at what he saw as an arrogant, triumphalist action by Democrats — you know, We won the election, so we’re going to throw money at whatever we please, no matter what YOU think…

Now on the one hand, I can see where Hal’s coming from. If you ask me to list, in order of priority, what I think government should spend money on, I would put be likely to put the arts and cultural amenities really low on the list — behind building roads, funding the military, building and operating schools, enforcing clear air and water laws, and so forth. Not that I don’t appreciate the arts and such. In fact, my youngest child is pursuing a career as a ballet dancer, and I would love it if she could make her living from that (since it takes something like 40 hours a week to take all the classes and rehearsals and such) instead of having to work a whole separate full-time job to eat.

But if you ask me to set priorities — whether for government or my own spending — as much as I appreciate the arts, they simply would not top the list. If I personally had a million dollars to give away, I’d give it to efforts that directly help the poor — Habitat for Humanity, or the local food bank — rather than to underwrite a play or fund the local philharmonic. That is, that’s what I’d do if I didn’t have a child who was a starving artist. Obviously, that personal interest would probably cause me to write a check to the ballet company, but that just muddies my argument… Where was I? I was saying, I have a really confused state of mind on this issue: I want the arts to be healthy and vibrant, and I know that ticket prices and other direct forms of funding will never be enough, and I know I’m not giving, so I hope somebody is. How’s that for ambivalence?

And if you then ask me if stimulus funds should be spent on the arts… well… to know whether I’d vote “yes” if asked, I’d have to know what those funds would be spent on if NOT on that. If the choice were high-speed rail or developing electric cars, I’d prefer those. If the choice were, I don’t know, bridges to nowhere, I’d prefer the arts.

Mind you, that’s assuming that the money is going to be spent on something, which is the idea behind stimulus spending — cranking money out into the economy. As I see it, spending on the arts and culture does that about as well as anything else. If you want to say that the money just shouldn’t be spent at all, you may be right, but that’s a separate conversation. (Just as it was a separate issue from whether South Carolina should receive stimulus funds. Obviously, if it was going to be spent anyway, South Carolina should have gotten its share.)

Anyway, as we were discussing this, Andy Witt came by (he was gathering up leftover arts brochures from the tables so they wouldn’t go to waste), and he and Hal had a little impromptu (and civil) discussion of the matter.

I urged them both to write up their thoughts and send them to me to share with y’all on the blog. I hope they will. In the meantime, if y’all have clearer views on the matter than I do (and that wouldn’t be hard; it’s a low bar), I’d love to hear them…

Steve Benjamin has been talking about changing Columbia’s form of government, which I’ve found encouraging, because if a guy talks about something like that while running for office and gets elected, he can say he has a mandate to try to do something about it.

Even so, someone other than a guy running for mayor has to be pushing for more authority for that office in order for the initiative to be credible, so I was very encouraged to read that some other folks, ranging from Darrell Jackson to Belinda Gergel, are openly talking about switching to a system in which the voters could hold someone accountable for how the city is run.

I am especially encouraged that Ms. Gergel is prepared to take concrete steps toward putting the issue on the very ballot on which Mr. Benjamin is running. Folks, this is light years beyond anything we’ve seen on city council before. Mayor Bob wanted such a change, but never took such direct action. Nor did anyone.

Some of you prefer the present system — either because it’s better than what preceded it, or because you fear the threat of bossism, or whatever. The great thing about what Belinda is proposing is that if council goes ahead and puts it on the ballot, we’ll have three months to lay out everyone’s arguments, and then let voters make the decision. This is infinitely better than waiting several years for a blue-ribbon panel that was never going to go for real reform to make a non-report.

So just by getting to this point, we’ve made progress…

Several months after Duncan and Scottie McCrae established the Warthen/Ariail memorial booth at Yesterday’s, Robert and I were finally both there at the same time tonight, and a good time was had by all.

Robert got there first, and there were some other people in our booth, but Robert thrashed them and threw them out. Not really, but it sounds better than way. Actually, he waited until they left, then claimed the table.

Neither of us have jobs yet, but Robert has that $10,000 he got with that major award, so I let him pay. (He kept saying that — “Major Award” — and laughing uproariously, because it reminds him of the Dad in “A Christmas Story.” Occasionally he would add, “Frah-GEE-lay!”)

This was the first time we had met there since the night when we got canned. Actually, it was the last day of our employment. We had gotten the word the week before, but had two weeks to clean out our offices. But on that last night, March 20, we headed for Yesterday’s for our first post-employment beer, and then finished the evening over at Goatfeathers, where the owner is also an old friend of Roberts. (I pretty much stick to Yesterday’s myself, but then I don’t have quite as many drinking buddies as Robert, who spent a lot of years in this town as a single guy.)

By the way, the columns on display on the wall are this one (my last in The State) and, more importantly, my penultimate column, the one about Robert (which was actually the last one I wrote at the paper; the other one just ran later.)

Anyway, I want Duncan and Scottie to know that we are both deeply honored, and will not let so much time pass before we put in another appearance. It’s definitely my favorite place in town to hoist a pint or two. And the food is good, too.

Now be sure, if you haven’t yet today, to go check out Robert’s latest cartoons.

People keep going on and on about that klutz who fried his privates with his fizzled BVD bomb — a “terrorist” I continue to marvel that any part of al Qaeda would claim — but it seems I’ve heard much less about the guy who actually waltzed into a secure area and blew up 7 Americans, including a mother of three.

Yes, there has been more coverage of it than I have seen, what with the distraction of the holidays and traveling and such. But still, I found it useful to read this piece in the WSJ about what the attack said about our counterintelligence weaknesses.

What happened in Khost is more meaningful not only because it was a successful attack, but because it struck at the very heart of our security apparatus. We thought this guy was working as an agent for US, so seven CIA officers sit down with him. I wonder if any of them realized he was a double agent before he set off the bomb?

The reasons this guy was successful (I almost wrote, “The reason he got away with it…,” but I don’t suppose that applies to suicide bombers) are the very reasons why we are so vulnerable at home and abroad — our intelligence officers are hampered by dependence on foreign services, a lack of understanding of Arabic, a lack of local knowledge, and perhaps a lack of experience. Some of the things in the WSJ piece are speculation — the ex-CIA officer who wrote it doesn’t know enough facts about THIS case, and surmises quite a bit — but the broader observations still ring true.

Interestingly, while he has some critical words for the  Obama administration, the writer is optimistic that the president’s pragmatism will lead him to wise action to address some of our weakness. I hope that’s right (and believe there is reason to think he is).

As a career journalist, I’m probably more committed to openness in government than most people, probably including you, dear reader. I’ve spent 35 years shining lights on things needing illumination. Having cut my teeth as a reporter in Tennessee — a state with a serious Sunshine Law — I was completely and utterly appalled at the weakness of FOI law in South Carolina. In fact, I’m afraid that the first time I met Jay Bender, the newspaper’s mouthpiece and lobbyist for the press in the Legislature, I was rather obnoxious to him. He was giving us editors a briefing on his accomplishments in the last legislative session in having slightly improved FOI law in our state, and I just kept heaping scorn upon the result, and wondering why in the world he hadn’t pushed harder for something better.

This, of course, was before I had spent 22 years closely observing this Legislature in action. I now have a lot more sympathy for Jay and what he was up against, even as I remain impatient and disgusted with a system that allows so many exemptions to open-meetings law.

Nowadays, as a consultant, I am constantly giving the advice that the best medicine for a PR problem is total openness, and I mean it. Be completely frank and make your case. Never stonewall. This is not always a welcome message, but I deliver it anyway. And I still make some people nervous in meetings. They are afraid to say things in front of me because of their concept of me (little do they know how much I withhold from my public these days).

But, as a sort of high priest of openness (which is not really a very hyperbolic description of someone who has served as editorial page editor of the state’s largest newspaper), I have occasional bouts with … doubt. This is a little hard to explain and get anyone to understand. I even had trouble with Cindi and Warren, as long as they’ve known me. There were cases in which I said to them, Look, I agree with you completely that openness is best. But in this particular case, just how hard do you think we need to press? I mean, it looks like things came out all right in the end, so why use this instance as an occasion for preaching on the subject? (Mind you, the editorial process is a constant triage in which you have to pick a few things to comment on among almost limitless options — so why not concentrate on the things you are very clear on?)

Part of this was because I had been a manager ever since 1978, and had had inculcated in me that certain things — including personnel matters (one of the things that SC law exempts from total disclosure, and unfortunately one that public officials raise as a smokescreen to obscure so many things that NEED to be disclosed). If I reprimand an employee, and we have a heart-to-heart talk in which he tells me about things in his private life, or she is reduced to tears (which happens a lot; if you’re not a manager, you’d be surprised how often), I actually have an obligation to keep it between us.

That was part of it. Another part was that I saw a certain hypocrisy in insisting on absolutes. My colleagues would have been appalled if I had insisted on all our proceedings being recorded on video and offered to the public. It would constrain them, they would say. They would feel like we couldn’t be completely frank in our (sometimes heated) discussions. And they’d be right about that. Being on camera every minute would tend us toward vanilla discussions, and in the end vanilla opinions. While I was comfortable with a LOT more of what we did being disclosed (I often caused my colleague unease by what I put on the blog), I recognized that there was a time when I knew it was best to close the door and let it all hang out. And it bothered me that our official position was that public officials should never, ever be allowed to do that. Even as I held that opinion, it bothered me.

Another part was that I am by nature resistant to absolutes. Cite me a law or rule or precept that is sound and wise and profound, and I will almost inevitably, and usually immediately, start picking at the chinks I see, and saying “Yes, but what about…” It’s a very irritating habit, and a real enthusiasm killer. Ask my wife. But it’s been a good trait to have as a journalist, by and large. The trouble comes when I apply it to a journalistic Sacred Cow. And journalists, as cynical and worldly as they’re supposed to be, DO have sacred cows, and can really get their backs up if you disrespect one of them, however mildly or peripherally. (Oh, and for those of you who get so frustrated with me because I still like and admire folks like Graham and Lieberman and McCain, and Obama, and you think I’m blind to their flaws — you miss the point entirely. I see everyone’s flaws. I expect them. I don’t expect anyone to always agree with me. Being the iconoclast that I am, I know you can’t get through life expecting others to meet your standards all the time. But you live a poor and bitter life if you can’t respect and admire some people in spite of that. Lord knows I judge enough people harshly.)

So — where am I going with this? Well, a couple of things I’ve seen the last couple of days (and sorry I didn’t post yesterday; it was a busy day for freelancing and job-hunting) have got me to thinking about this.

First, there’s Joe Wilson’s push to have health care bill negotiations aired live on C-SPAN. And — setting aside that his motivation is that he wants this legislation to fail (I picture him screaming “You Die!” at the bill, like a Japanese soldier whipping himself up for a banzai charge on Guadalcanal) — I say, absolutely. Put the full glare on it. Open government, etc.

But then I challenge myself. I say, what if this were actually a good bill — say, one that provided single-payer, or even expanded Medicare so that folks like me can buy into it — and a few discrete discussions here and there would lead to it becoming law? Would I think negotiations should be televised then? And I begin to doubt. Because open government — allowing the public into meetings, making documents freely available — and live television are two different things. Folks who think the cameras keep the politicos honest don’t really understand the psychology of television. People perform for cameras. They are distracted. They become phony. They use different voices, different faces and different gestures. They are NOT frank and open. They become susceptible to the Observer Effect. And this is not always good. For this reason, for instance, while I believe courtrooms should be open, I do not like the idea of TV cameras in the courtroom (think O.J. Simpson).

TV cameras don’t give you the truth; they give you a show. Any reporter worth his salt will tell you that while there are certain circumstances in which being on camera can help (such as my interrogation of Karen Floyd on live TV back in 2006, which I think led to an important admission on her part), by and large you’re better off talking to your source away from the cameras. You get more, and you get it straighter. (And being on camera can cause some journalists to hang back; few are big enough jerks to do what I did with Ms. Floyd that time.)

So, I have to admit to myself that if I thought delicate, undistracted discussions would give this country the health care reform it deserves I would have my doubts about C-SPAN, well… I guess I need to say I have my doubts about it even though this is deeply flawed and inadequate legislation. I shouldn’t apply my doubts only to bills I like. Mind you, I think everything about the bill should be open and aboveboard and on the public record. But I don’t think every conversation about it has to be televised.

Now if I were still at the paper, would this lead me to assign or write an editorial disagreeing with Joe? No. My level of doubt in this case would simply cause me to move on to another topic, and let the partisans shout at each other about it without my participation. There are more than enough battles to fight where the issues are clearer.

Another example, and this one is a classic: Yesterday, I was reading a book review of a new book about FDR, centering on his health in those last years. It was interesting. It went through it all — the president’s alarming decline in late 1944 and early 1945, his assumed disadvantage at Yalta and the impact of that on subsequent history, the press’ collusion in keeping his health in the background. Familiar ground. It concludes:

Trying to determine the state of FDR’s health has a legitimate historical purpose: Roosevelt was derided during the Cold War as “the sick man of Yalta” for having ceded too much ground to Stalin, and it would be useful to know precisely how sick he was. In the modern era, we may know more than we care to about the health of presidents and presidential candidates, but as “FDR’s Deadly Secret” makes clear, too much information is preferable to too little.

Well… I’m not so sure about that. Personally, I exceeded my limit of what I want to know about the president’s health when I was editing details about Reagan’s polyps. This, I said to myself, was ridiculous. And it was. Of course, the reviewer doesn’t disagree with me there; he just says remaining in the dark to the FDR extent was worse.

I doubt that. Think about it. While I didn’t live through those times, I’ve been sufficiently immersed in what was going on in this country — from reading, from listening to my parents (who, having been born in 1928 and 1931, had no memory of a time when Roosevelt had not been president, and to whom his mortality was a deep shock) — that I find it hard to imagine how detailed reporting on the president’s state would have helped the country at that time. As it was, with the war almost won, it was a profound shock. And if the nation had known how little Roosevelt had confided in Harry Truman, they would have been even more worried.

How would it have helped to see his infirmity fully exposed on camera in newsreels, to read detailed reports of his repeated visits to Bethesda Naval, to have a national conversation (in full view of the Nazis and the Japanese leadership) about his fitness for office? It’s not like he was going to step down, not FDR. Mind you, there were enough things going on then to weaken national resolve (the Battle of the Bulge, which Hitler had meant to shock us into seeking an armistice, comes to mind). Did we really need that kind of crisis of confidence at the moment?  Whether you think there should have been more disclosure or doubt it, our perception is colored by the fact that things worked out in the end. We won, totally and absolutely. Harry Truman turned out OK. And forty years later, we won the Cold War. Knowing that, we are tempted to see the course of events as inevitable — but they were not.

OK, I guess I’ve aired my doubts enough  for one day. The fact remains, I’m more committed to openness and full disclosure than most people. But as I say, I resist absolutes, and I believe there is good reason to do so.

Anybody else do a double-take at the headline on Joe Wilson’s op-ed piece this morning?

Where’s the jobs?

Yeah, I know — it’s supposed to be a takeoff on “Where’s the beef?” But totally apart from the fact that we all got tired of “Where’s the beef?” at the time, which I suppose is why it went away (I picture focus groups taking the facilitator out and tarring and feathering him by the end), I’m not sure that’s a good enough excuse for something so jarringly wrong.

Say what else you may say about it, “Where’s the beef?” was at least grammatically correct. So, for that matter, was “You lie!” But this… I just don’t know, Joe.

But do me this favor, Joe — when you do find the jobs, throw some of them this way…

Lindsey Graham doesn’t need me to stick up for him as he suffers (yet again) the slings and arrows of the extremists within his own party, but I will. I’ve done it before, and here I go again…

As I said in a column back in 2007, Sen. Graham is a stand-up guy. He has stood up, often against a howling mob in his own party, for rational immigration reform, against torture, for the right course in Iraq (as opposed to the Rumsfeld course), against gridlock in judicial confirmations, and now for a compromise approach on energy and the environment.

Some of my friends here on the blog want be to be indignant toward Lindsey because he was in town fighting to kill the health care reform bill. Well, first of all, maybe this bill should be killed, just because it falls far short of what is needed. That’s not why Sen. Graham — and some others I admire, such as John McCain and Joe Lieberman — opposes it, but you know what? People I respect and admire don’t have to always agree with me. In fact, that’s sort of a central tenet of my UnParty.

If fact, if you just concentrate on when people disagree with you, and fail to praise them when they stand up courageously for the right thing, well then NO politician will ever stand up. They do it so seldom as things are that it is imperative that when they DO stand up, we call attention to it and praise them to the skies. Otherwise, there’s no hope left for our representative democracy.

Lindsey Graham deserves a Profile in Courage standing ovation for coming to town on the day after the GOP apparatus in South Carolina’s most Republican county “censured” him for being a stand-up guy, and standing up yet again rather than backing down. That takes chutzpah.

Yeah, he spoke against health care reform. You can’t have everything. But he also appeared at a climate change conference in Columbia to push his cap-and-trade compromise, the bill he’s been working on with John Kerry (boo, hiss, says the peanut gallery) and the aforementioned Sen. Lieberman.

Here’s the thing about that bill: It is about as pure an expression as you are likely to find in the real world of what my Energy Party stands for. (You know for a guy who hates parties, I sure do start a lot of them. Remember the Grownup Party?) The main principle of the Energy Party is to throw off the shackles of ideology and do whatever works to get us free from foreign oil (and help the planet in the bargain), because just doing what the left wants, or the right wants, won’t get us there. That means encouraging conservation and drilling domestically. It means pushing public transportation, and electric cars — and building nuclear plants to supply the electricity. And while Graham’s bill doesn’t do everything I would do, it does enough of them to distinguish itself for its pragamatism and its willingness to take the best ideas from both sides in the ideology wars.

Lindsey Graham would do these things, and he would do them in tandem with John Kerry in order to get them done. And I just want to say that I for one appreciate him for being a stand-up guy. Again.

This morning, I was struck by this story at the top of the WSJ‘s front page: “Buffett Hits Kraft on Cadbury.”

And I thought, this investor merely makes a remark about a business deal, and it tops the WSJ (not only that, but it’s the third most-read story on the Web site today)? What gives? How come when I issue pointed remarks on the business world — such as my profound doubts about Starbucks damaging its business model by pushing instant coffee — I don’t even get a mention in the Journal?

As it happens, it’s very easy to answer that question: I’m the guy who bought McClatchy at $39.00. Enough said. By ignoring me, my friends at the Journal are being kind.

I was painfully reminded of that this morning by my old friend Burl Burlingame. You know Burl — the star of “Killer Subs of Pearl Harbor” (which makes me terribly envious; I wish I had a cool-sounding credit like that to go into MY obit). Anyway, he passed this bit of news on to me:

Newspaper Stock Prices End the Year Up, By A Lot
Posted by Rick Edmonds at 2:41 PM on Jan. 4, 2010
After four years of cascading losses, the stocks of publicly-traded newspaper companies all posted substantial gains in 2009.

In fact, a bold investor who bought McClatchy, E.W. Scripps, Lee, A.H. Belo or Journal Communications at their low points early in the year could have realized a 10 times gain by cashing out at the end of 2009.

Burl’s implied point was, “Hey Brad, look at how they profited from firing you and Robert and the rest.” To which I say, Gee, thanks, Burl. Shaka da kine, bruddah.

But don’t expect me to be impressed at the new stock price. A ten-fold increase means it went from 35 cents to $3.54.

So let me know when it gets to 10 times that. I’d still be losing money, but at least I could get some of what I invested back (the staggering sum of $1,300, another reason why the Journal doesn’t put me in the same league with Buffett).

If I’d known about this a little earlier, I would have asked for it as a Christmas gift.

I got an invitation today to have dinner with “Wild Bill” Guarnere up in Philadelphia. Sure, they expect me to pay for it, but it’s still an honor I don’t deserve:

Tickets for the Wild Bill Guarnere Community Dinner, 2010, have gone on sale at
http://www.wildbillguarnere.com/dinner2010

Come visit Bill Guarnere in person and spend a weekend in historic Philadelphia!
This year we'll be doing a film documentary of the entire weekend, and as always,
we'll have great food, great fun, book signings all weekend long, and a chance to
sit with Wild Bill and talk in a small, intimate setting!  Don't miss out on what
may be our last dinner!

Dinner Info, 2010

Where: Philadelphia, PA
When: Saturday, April 17, 2010, 7:00 PM
Cost: Tickets are $50.00 per person. Hotel and all other travel, transportation is
not included.

Go get your tickets and enlist today!

Wild Bill and the Guarnere Family

Bill Guarnere is one of the best-known members of Easy Company (portrayed memorably by Frank John Hughes in the TV series), the 506th PIR, who trained at Toccoa, jumped into Normandy on June 6, 1944, fought across Holland, and then lost his leg to German artillery in the Ardennes while trying to drag his buddy Joe Toye to safety. He earned the sobriquet “Wild Bill,” as I recall, as a result of his exceptional ferocity on D-Day (he had learned, just hours before going into action, that the Germans had killed his brother in Italy). He was the guy who had his doubts about Capt. Winters because “he ain’t Catholic” and “he don’t drink,” but became a loyal admirer after they’d been in action together.

I’ve mentioned before how I’ve often been tempted when visiting Central Pennsylvania to go over to Hershey and shake Dick Winters’ hand — but stayed away because of his well-publicized desire to live the rest of his life in peace if he ever got home alive.

Now, I have an actual invitation to meet one of the Band of Brothers — an invitation I received just because I visited the Guarnere Web site a few years back, but an invitation nonetheless. Now I have another incentive to get a job between now and April — so I can afford to go visit Wild Bill.

Thought this was fairly clever coming from a 20-year-old. Or so I gathered. The note on YouTube says it was the second-place entry in AARP’s U@50 Challenge.

It wasn’t entirely original. It was based on a brilliant political ad from Argentina. But it’s still pretty good. I mean, how many 20-year-olds in this country are hip to Argentinian politics? That alone impresses.

This was brought to my attention by my friend Maria Smoak, who runs the Hispanic Ministry at my church, St. Peter’s.

View from Japanese plane as attack begins. But some attackers saw Battleship Row from beneath the surface of the Harbor itself ...

I don’t know what you’ll be doing at 8 p.m. tonight, but I plan to tune in to PBS to see “Killer Subs of Pearl Harbor.” Burl says he will be “one of the third-tier talking heads” on this installment of “NOVA.” The premise? According to Time Warner Cable’s listing, “Japanese midget submarine may have played a role in the sinking of the USS Arizona.”

Y’all know Burl Burlingame — he’s a regular here on the blog. You may even know that he’s a journalist out in Hawaii, and that he and I graduated from Radford High School together in 1971. What you may not know is that Burl is a military historian who is particularly respected for his knowledge of Japanese mini-subs.

So tune in, turn on and all that stuff. And be sure to check out NOVA’s Web material on the subject, which Burl helped put together.

And if you can’t wait — or if you won’t be able to tune in tonight — listen to Burl in this podcast from NOVA’s Web site.