Category Archives: Confessional

Get ready to read a book, y’all — One Book

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Belinda Gergel called me — and 150 or so other people — a week or two ago and asked me to be part of the effort to get Columbia to read a book together.

She called me because I’d been there before. Way back at the end of the last century, I read something about the Seattle librarian who came up with this idea to get everybody in the city to read a book together. The idea caught on, and other cities started doing thesame. I asked why not Columbia as well (or did I ask why not South Carolina? I forget, and can’t find my columns about it)? The idea appealed to my communitarianism. I’m all about reading, and books, and ideas, and when I’m reading a book I like to talk about it, and I could think of few things cooler than reading a really good book, and wanting to talk about it, and then having the satisfaction of everybody else I ran into having read it, too. Y’all are familiar with my frustration that it’s hard to find anyone other than Mike Fitts who is as into the Aubrey/Maturin universe as I am — Tolkien fanatics have their support groups, but what about those of us who want to read O’Brian over and over? Confession here — I’m now progressing (if one can call such “Groundhog Day” repetition progress) through my fifth reading of Desolation Island. Anyone want to talk about the charms of Mrs. Wogan, or the horror of seeing the Waakzaamheid go down with all hands in the Roaring Forties? Anyone? Anyone? That’s what I thought.

But I digress, as usual.

Claudia Brinson and I, with the help of some nice folks over at the SC Arts Commission, then launched an effort to get everyone to read Fahrenheit 451. My choice, of course. And it was moderately successful — I spoke to some book clubs that joined in the effort. Then we were going to do it again, but we couldn’t agree on a book (the committee wanted to go in one direction, I wanted to go in another), and it just sort of petered out.

But now Belinda, and the Richland County Public Library, are launching the effort on a grander scale. The above picture is from a reception at the library Thursday night, where Belinda addressed the core group she had assembled so she could send us out as book missionaries. We got buttons to wear and everything (I still have a bag full of buttons with the numbers “451” in flames, which I ran across when I was cleaning out my office at The State.) The reception was nice, although I didn’t see any beer. Just wine. Belinda urged us to enjoy ourselves but to be in by 2 a.m. That got a good laugh, as everyone imagined this bookish crowd running riot in the streets into the wee hours.

Here’s some info Belinda sent out after the reception:

What is One Book, One Columbia?

The City of Columbia and Richland County Public Library (RCPL) have joined forces to launch their first citywide reading adventure, One Book, One Columbia, and all residents of Columbia and Richland County are invited to read the book between April 1 and May 15 then share their experiences with friends and neighbors. Numerous discussions and programs centered around the book will take place during the reading period.

What book has been selected?

The first selection for this annual occurrence is Having Our Say: The Delany Sisters’ First 100 Years by AmyHill Hearth, Elizabeth Delany and Sarah Delany. This best-selling book tells the story of two remarkable sisters, career trailblazers, who charted their own path in the world, guided by the strength they gained from faith and family. The incredible stories of “Queen Bess” and “Sweet Sadie,” as they were known to their family, were captured by one-time Columbia resident and author Amy Hill Hearth. Upon its publication in 1993, The New York Times said of Having Our Say: “The Delany sisters were taught to participate in history, not just witness it, and they have the wit to shape their history with style… they make each memory vivid…they are literature’s living kin.”

How can I participate?

Read the book

The book is available at RCPL locations, or is available for purchase at Barnes and Noble and other retailers.

Talk to your family, friends, and neighbors about the book

Get your friends and family in on the act! An important aspect of the One Book experience is talking about what you read with others. Be on the lookout for residents wearing a One Book, One Columbia button around town – these Reading Advocates will definitely be ready to talk Having Our Say!

Participate in a One Book, One Columbia book club or event

RCPL will have special One Book, One Columbia book club meetings and events throughout April and early May at their branches. Other community organizations are getting creative with their plans: discussions, art, historic tours, and activities for kids are just a few of the ways the community has embraced the One Book, One Columbia effort. Visit www.myrcpl.com/onebook for full details.

Get connected

Visit the One Book, One Columbia page on Facebook and “like” to get all of the latest news.

I invite all of y’all to get involved, especially if you’re in a book club or something.

Now, before you say, “But that book doesn’t interest me,” allow me to be brutally honest, or perversely contrarian, or whatever: I wouldn’t have picked this book, either. It’s the kind that most modern book-clubby people would pick. It’s definitely the kind Belinda would pick — hey, it’s the kind of book Belinda would write. But it’s not exactly the first thing I’d grab off the shelf.

How should I put this? There’s a cultural divide here, perhaps effectively symbolized by the fact that there was wine at the reception, but no beer. I’m not saying that to be critical, far from it. I’m just… well, I’ll get to my point in a minute. I’m just saying, different strokes and all that.

This is related to the trouble we had coming up with a second book back when I tried to start a movement like this. I wanted to read another book like the Bradbury one. I wanted something else from the modern canon, the kinds of books that were required reading when I was in high school: 1984, The Sun Also Rises, Brave New World, Crime and Punishment if we wanted to get heavy, Catch-22, Steppenwolf, Stranger in a Strange Land, or if we wanted to be more modern, High Fidelity. I definitely would have been up for Huck Finn. The rest of the committee wanted … something by a contemporary author, someone one could invite to come speak and participate, preferably Southern, probably a woman. Hey, I was willing to read a book by a woman — but the committee rejected To Kill a Mockingbird, probably because they thought it too obvious or trite or whatever.

Thing is, there aren’t many books by living authors that interest me enough to want to read them with a group and discuss them. And I’ve also got this thing of wanting to read books I like over and over. (How about that Mrs. Wogan, huh? Anyone?) But there’s also the problem that I’m not that interested in the kinds of books that book clubs read. The last time I knew of a book club reading a book I wanted to read (aside from the Bradbury book, and I instigated that), it was James Fallows’ Breaking The News: How the Media Undermine American Democracy, which I had reviewed in the paper and a Heathwood book club asked me to address them about. That was 1996. Mostly, book clubs want to read, well, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother or some such.

This book that Columbia is going to read isn’t exactly that, but it isn’t exactly the sort of thing I usually read, either. It’s… social history, judging it by its cover. I’m an old-school Great Men Fighting Wars kind of history buff, and that’s what I tend to read when I read nonfiction.

Which is why — and this is where I come to my point (remember, I promised I would) — it’s probably a good idea for me to read this book. And why you probably should, too. Broaden our horizons.

Also, I’ve promised I would. I’ve been wearing the button and everything. I’d best go get a copy. I’ll keep you posted — and we can discuss it. Which will be cool.

The kind of biographies I USUALLY read...

Good luck with that, Mayor Steve

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When you make yourself available, you never know who's gonna show up. Like, check out the geek with the bow tie. You know HE'S trouble.../2010 photo by Bob Ford

Just read this in Steve Benjamin’s monthly newsletter:

Mondays with the Mayor

Ensuring the City of Columbia is open and accountable to all of the people has been a priority of mine from day one because, for me, government transparency is about living up to that most fundamental commitment: the people deserve the truth.

From moving council to evening meetings, working to limit executive session, and streaming every city council meeting live online; we are working live up to that responsibility and today I am pleased to announce a new initiative to further that cause: “Mondays with the Mayor.”

Kicking off on March 7th, “Mondays with the Mayor” is a monthly open session where citizens can schedule a 5 minute meeting here at City Hall to discuss the issues they care about with me personally.

WHAT: Mondays with the Mayor
WHEN: Monday, March 7, 2011
5:00pm to 7:00pm
WHERE: City Hall
1737 Main Street

To schedule a meeting, please call 803.545.3073 or emailAppointments@columbiasc.net on Friday, March 4th between 9:00am and 11:00am. The message should include your name, address, phone number, and issue to be discussed.

I believe that, by working together as One Columbia, we can raise the standard for citizen driven good government not just in South Carolina, but across the nation.

I believe we can make a difference.

First, hats off to the mayor for his commitment to openness and transparency. He’s acted quickly on several front to demonstrated that commitment, and praise is due to the council for its part in implementing such steps.

As for this one-at-a-time levee he plans — I hope it is everything a true lower-case-d democrat could wish for. But I also cringe a bit.

Admittedly, this may be partly because I just watched “Taxi Driver” all the way through last night for the first time, and that scene in which Travis Bickle has presidential candidate Charles Palantine in his cab. The candidate oozes transparently bogus mutterings about how he loves to hear the wisdom of cabbies like Travis, to which Travis responds with a skin-crawling diatribe on how the city is nothing but filth, and the next president should “flush” it all away — making the candidate very eager to get the heck outta that cab.

I’m sure it won’t be like that. And I’m sure it will be far better managed than the time that Andy Jackson threw open the doors of the White House for an inaugural backwoods kegger.

But… if you’ve spent as many hundreds of ours of your life in public meetings as I have, you know that there are certain people, who are not representative of the people overall, who love to show up and monopolize such affairs. Perhaps the 5-minute limit will take care of that.

But still… Again, I’m proud of the mayor for this fine gesture of openness. Lord knows we need more of that in South Carolina. And at the same time, I’m glad it’s him and not me spending two hours a month in the political equivalent of speed-dating.

The inside tale of the curfew/closings deal

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As y’all may or may not know, Kathryn Fenner — who is very involved in the community in divers ways — was in the middle of a group of citizens who helped work out the compromise on Columbia’s efforts to get some modicum of control over the less savory facets of its nightlife.

We’ve had discussions here about the proposed youth curfew, and the proposal that bars close at 2 a.m., but as the discussion has progressed, I’ve sort of fallen behind on what was happening. Kathryn has not, and she has sent me all sorts of documents (which I have not found time to read) and great sources (whom I have not found time to interview), and I was feeling all guilty about it, and then it occurred to me to fall back on my default mode, after all those years as an assigning editor: Get somebody else to do it.

And since Kathryn already knew all of this stuff, why not her? Yeah, I know; it’s unconventional, and single-source, and she’s too involved, yadda-yadda. But this is NEW media, people. And I figure, this is just like an op-ed from an involved party, which gives readers deeper understanding of an issue from at least one viewpoint. I will be very glad to consider contributions from other viewpoints, but I make no promises. This is an experiment. We’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, here’s Kathryn’s version of events. (FYI, I have NOT edited it, because, well, that would be too much work and defeat the purpose of foisting it off on someone else. So this is her authentic voice, you might say. Yeah, that’s what it is…):

Making Hospitality Districts Hospitable

By Kathryn B. Fenner
Special Correspondent
Less than a year ago, police, patrons and the public at large began to notice an increase in unpleasantness in the hospitality districts, particularly Five Points, but the Vista and the area around Club Dreams across from City Hall also had issues. People were drunker; bands of teenagers too young to even enter a bar were crowding the sidewalks, intimidating people and even brandishing weapons. Bars were severely overcrowded—some holding three times more than their safe occupancy. Street crime was rampant. There were several shootings that appeared to involve minors, some of whom ran into the surrounding residential areas, and severe assaults, including one that resulted in permanent eye damage and reconstructive plastic surgery, on random bystanders that seemed to be some sort of gang initiation.
The police started a discussion to try to solve these problems. By midsummer, a task force of stakeholders was formed including bar owners; representatives from the merchants’, neighborhood and industry associations; the University of South Carolina police and student life heads; law enforcement (Columbia police and the Richland County Sheriff’s Department) and fire marshals; and city staffers, and chaired by Tom Sponseller, head of both the Midlands and state hospitality organizations. Everyone (and his brother or sister) was heard from, including the police chief from Greenville, who reported that the city’s curfew ordinance,
which applies only to the Reedy River area, had been implemented without a hitch—all parents came and got their kids, and there were few incidents because it was implemented after an extensive publicity campaign, a Myrtle Beach police representative, and former Fire Chief Bradley Anderson who did extensive research into practices employed across the country to calm hospitality districts.
The original push was to close all bars at 2 a.m. While bars could not serve liquor after 2 a.m., they could serve beer, wine and the malt beverages—including the notorious sweet, caffeinated alcoholic “energy drinks” like Four Loko (“a six-pack in a can”) that seemed to be major fuel to the drunkenness of younger patrons—until 4 a.m., except for Sundays. They never needed to actually close their doors. The bars countered that the problems were caused by the kids who had no business, literally, in the districts, and proposed a curfew. Additional issues included a toothless loitering law that had been used to stifle civil rights protests, an open container law that required the cops to establish the grain alcohol content of said open container, an over-occupancy penalty that was laughably light and applied only to whoever happened to be on the door that night, and virtually no enforcement of state liquor laws, because of a reduction in SLED agents statewide from 46 to 1.5, the nonparticipation of the Columbia police in the training that would have enabled them to enforce liquor laws, and overworked administrative law judges who perhaps did not appreciate the seriousness of the issues facing denser districts.
Police and fire marshals were often pulling double duty to work the “party nights” and were exhausted. The city courts were doing the best they could with a system of logging violations that relied on a huge book of dot-matrix paper and many handwritten entries. A record number of students at USC were transported to emergency rooms with alcohol poisoning.
A compromise was proposed that drew from the Myrtle Beach statute (bars in other South Carolina cities with dense hospitality districts tended to close at 2 a.m.). Myrtle Beach also had a blanket 2 a.m. closing unless bars obtained a permit to stay open until 4. These bars were required to show proof of liquor liability insurance, to have specified numbers of security personnel, to train staff in safe-serving practices and compliance with applicable laws and, famously, not to have wet T-shirt contests or drinking games. Failure to abide by the rules resulted in swift and certain punishment, and the bars largely policed themselves and one another. The compromise also included a curfew for children 17 and under, at 11 p.m. year round, based on police desires to be able to deal with the bulk of violators before the onslaught of bar patrons began at around 12:30. A special team of law enforcement, fire marshals, code enforcement, zoning and business license staff would be trained in the particulars of hospitality zone issues. Finally, a quality public relations campaign would be implemented regarding the curfew, sensible alcohol consumption and good personal safety practices. Additional, “optional” recommendations included a tighter open container law and stiffer penalties for over-occupancy.
The compromise package was unanimously approved by the task force and presented to City Council for approval. At this writing, the bifurcated closing ordinance has been enacted, the hospitality enforcement team is being formed and the curfew has received the first of two required readings. City Attorney Ken Gaines has raised concerns about the constitutionality of the curfew ordinance, and after City Council waived its attorney-client confidentiality rights, he opined that a federal court decision in Dallas required that certain findings of harm caused to or by juveniles be made, which findings could not be made by the Columbia police
because the data had not been collected. The American Civil Liberties Union has threatened a lawsuit if a curfew is enacted, although it has not sued Greenville.

Uh-oh — I posted THIS on Facebook. Will I have to resign from the blog now?

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Foster Village, overlooking Pearl Harbor, circa 1970-71

Well, this is ominous:

Rep. Christopher Lee of western New York abruptly resigned with only a vague explanation of regret after a gossip website reported that the married congressman had sent a shirtless photo of himself flexing his muscles to a woman whose Craigslist ad he answered.

“I regret the harm that my actions have caused my family, my staff and my constituents,” Lee posted in a surprise announcement Wednesday night on his congressional website. “I deeply and sincerely apologize to them all. I have made profound mistakes and I promise to work as hard as I can to seek their forgiveness.”

A woman described as a 34-year-old Maryland resident and government employee provided the Gawker website with e-mails she said were an exchange between her and Lee in response to an ad she placed last month in the “Women Seeking Men” section of Craigslist.

This guy Lee sent a shirtless picture of himself to one woman, and he’s ruined. I posted the picture above on Facebook last night — that’s me with my board in late 1970 or early 1971 (we were vague about time in Hawaii), back when Burl and I were in school together — for that woman and every other woman in the world to see (so far, only one of them has made a saucy remark). Burl, by the way, had nothing to do with this photograph (I can prove it: this was obviously taken on a Kodak Instamatic, and Burl had a way better camera than that). These scandals have a way of pulling people in like black holes, and I don’t want him getting in trouble, too.

Oh, yeah, let me hasten to add: Barack Obama was on the island at the time, too, but he had nothing to do with it, either. I promise. I never even spoke to the guy until 2007.

Hamlet misses out on the new iPhone

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Alas, poor Blackberry...

Alas! poor Blackberry. I knew it, Horatio; a device of infinite usefulness, of most excellent fancy; it hath borne me on its back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! ... Where be your emails now? your Tweets? your texts? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the Blogosphere on a roar?

To switch or not to switch, that is the question…

Get thee to a Verizon, go!…

Something is rotten in the state of 3G…

Neither a Twitterer nor a blogger be…

My hour is almost come
When I to sulphrous and tormenting flames
Must render up my PDA…

OK, so none of those work as well as I’d like. But the thing is, my Hamlet-like indecision caused me to miss out on the first wave of iPhones being offered by Verizon, so I will not be one of the cool kids (I’m sure this amazes you). I was thinking about making the move today, but then I see that they’re all gone. There will be more next week, but that’ll be like being the 27th man in space, instead of the first. And now that the first rush of lust for the new gadget has been disappointed… I’m wondering if I should wait a bit longer than that.

Here are the facts, which I’m sure Shakespeare could render more beautifully, but I will stick to plain prose:

  • I work in an office full of Apple people. All the computers in the office are Macs. For my part, I bring my laptop PC into the office every day, and work from that. Yeah, I get it; Macs are cool. But my fingers do all the PC commands so automatically that I find the Mac functions awkward, laborious.
  • Some of these people I work with are fanatical about their iPhones (and their iPads, etc., but that’s not what this is about). And over time I’ve seen what their iPhones can do that my Blackberry Curve can’t, and how beautifully they do those things, and I’ve thought that if I could have one, I might want to.
  • My entire extended family (and I have a large family), except for one of my sons, is on Verizon. Several of us are on the same family plan, which is economical. I just couldn’t see getting an AT&T device. So for the last year or so, I seized upon every rumor that Verizon would get the iPhone.
  • My Blackberry has been acting up for months — losing the data signal and having to be reset (by turning it off, taking the battery out, putting it back in, and waiting a long time while the hourglass spins before it works again) several times a day. Lately, it’s started turning itself off completely, and refusing to come back on unless I go through the whole reset routine.
  • I was due for an upgrade as of January. Miracle of miracles, that’s when Verizon and Apple made the announcement that the longed-for day had come.
  • I figured I could spring for an iPhone at the upgrade price ($199) from my blog account. I would need to, because it would not fit into our new, super-tight, post-England household budget. Besides, Mamanem, who pays the household bills, does not believe anyone needs such a gadget, even though I do. (I’ve tried to explain the critical importance of having constant, excellent connection to my blog readers, Twitter followers and Facebook friends, but she looks at me like I’m babbling in Sanskrit. She thinks of me as being the Dad in the commercial, Tweeting “I’m… sitting… on… the… patio…“)
  • I started worrying that another barrier could lie in my way: What if the monthly cost of data access was greater than with the Blackberry? No way I’d get that through the family Ways and Means committee.
  • Last week, I went by Verizon (that is to say, made the trek out to Harbison at the end of a long day) to ask some questions about the upcoming iPhone, asking specifically whether it would cost more per month, and no one knew. All they knew was that I could order one starting Feb. 3. So I left, figuring they’d know more then.
  • Meanwhile, asking around, I learned to my shock that my friends with AT&T iPhones were only paying $25 a month. This kind of ticked me off, because I was paying $45 a month (part of a family plan account costing well over $200 a month). They had a better device and were paying less for it, which seemed to me outrageous. I began to wonder whether I should secede from the family plan and go with AT&T after all. AT&T had been tempting me with an offer for a TV/internet/landline deal that sounded better than what I had with TimeWarner; maybe I could save even more by adding mobile…
  • Then someone told my wife that I was probably paying more than the usual because when I got the Blackberry originally, in January 2009, it was on a corporate server (you know, “Corporate Server” is on my list of potential names for my band). This hassle sort of ticked me off at the time, because up until that time I had had a company phone, but now the paper was making people go buy their own phones, and then be reimbursed a set amount that, of course, would not match the full monthly cost of the device. Two months later, I promptly forget that enormous injustice when I learned of another innovative cost-saving measure — I was laid off. No one at Verizon ever told me that I was paying $45 a month because I was initially connected to a corporate server. Nobody at Verizon noticed that I was no longer connected to anything of the kind. So for almost two more years, I paid $15 too much a month.
  • Last night, it being Feb. 3, I went back to Verizon, hoping for some answers. I was happy to learn that an iPhone would NOT cost any more a month for the data. Then I told the guy that I suspected I was paying too much a month already, and he looked it up, and said yes, I was. So he fixed it, and said from then on I would only have to pay $30 a month for data. I asked him whether I would be reimbursed for all those overpayments. He said no, quite flatly. This was one of those techie sales people who makes you feel like all your questions are stupid and an imposition on his valuable time (every question I asked, he answered with a tone and a look that said, “Are you quite done bothering me?”), so the cold look in his eyes as he let me know what a stupid question the one about reimbursement was was in no way a departure from the rest of our conversation.
  • He said if I wanted an iPhone, I’d have to order it online, and that the first day they’d have them at the actual store would be Feb. 10, but that if I weren’t in line by about 5 a.m., I probably wouldn’t get one.
  • I had thought that the new iPhone would work on the new 4G network when that rolled out, but he said no, it wouldn’t.
  • Then he raised a new problem… he mentioned, in passing, that in moving to an iPhone I’d lose some data — such as old voicemails. Well, I didn’t care about that, but it made me wonder: Would I lose any of my 2,044 contacts I’d accumulated over the years, starting in my Palm Pilot days (and when I say “contacts,” I mean several phone numbers and email addresses each, street addresses, extraneous notes about each person — the crown jewels to me, and quite irreplaceable) or my calendar, and would it still sync with my data on my laptop? (As you may know, I lost access to it all on my computer for several months after a disastrous Outlook crash.) My stuff was all on Google now, connected to my gmail account (which is what brad@bradwarthen.com is), so surely it would work, right? He said he didn’t know. When I insisted upon knowing, he wearily passed the question on to another Verizon employee. She didn’t know either. So I asked the clerk whether he thought I should get a Droid instead, since it is built on Google. He shrugged. I asked him what he would do. He said he had a Droid, and showed it to me. I asked whether he was thinking at all of getting an iPhone instead, and he said, no, not unless they gave him one. Which they wouldn’t.
  • To me, there is little point to a PDA — Twitter and email and all aside —  if the contacts and calendar don’t sync smoothly with something also accessible via laptop. Might as well have an ol’ dumb phone as that.
  • Lose all my contacts, or even not be able to sync them smoothly? Must give us pause: There’s the respect that makes technological indecision of so long life. I was 99 percent sure that there was no way Steve Jobs would make something that wouldn’t connect smoothly with gmail data. But that wasn’t good enough. Sure, I could go home and order an iPhone online, but I wouldn’t be able to get my questions answered first. Even if I could chat with a person online, to what extent could I trust their assurances? Wouldn’t I need it in writing? And no online salesperson would have time for that — there were millions of others who wanted to buy the thing without asking stupid questions and making demands.
  • So I began to wonder whether I should do the equivalent of what I do with movies — not rush out and see them in the theater, but wait for Netflix. Patience is, after all, a virtue. Maybe I should even wait until 4G was out, and the rumored iPhone 5, which (maybe) would run on the new 4G network. Maybe, after a few million people actually start using Verizon iPhones, I could find out from some of them whether they sync well with Google. Or I could just go with a Droid. But I’ve looked at both, and like the iPhone SO much better.
  • I had also learned that a new Blackberry Curve would only cost me $29. So if my old Curve was dying (and it seems to be), maybe I could get one of those now, and wait for more info on how the iPhones actually work. Except that that would use up my upgrade. And without the upgrade, the iPhone would cost more than $700. Which might as well be 7 million. So that’s out.

What to do, what to do? I was too tired to figure it out last night. Today, I had a busy morning of meetings with clients and such. Twice during the morning, I had to reboot my device to check my email or the web. Once, it did that thing where it dies completely, and has to be force-reset. So I’m going to have to do something.

At lunch today with Lora — the most fanatical of my “iPhones are better” friends — I started blathering about my dilemma. While I was doing so, she glanced at her device and informed me that Verizon had just run out of iPhones.

So now I don’t have to think about this for awhile. Until the Blackberry dies completely, that is.

Isn’t it wonderful living in our modern age, with all these fantastic devices to make our lives easier?

I was WRONG in something I said about Nikki’s speech; in fact, she deserves praise on that point

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OK, I still haven’t run down every detail of this, but I’m about to run to lunch and I don’t want this correction to wait another minute.

Cindi Scoppe brought to my attention this morning a serious error in what I all-too-hastily wrote last night about Nikki Haley’s State of the State speech. More about haste, and the problems with blogging as opposed to newspaper writing, in a moment. But first, what Cindi said:

I think you misread her point on prison costs: She was promoting lowering the number of prisoners, through a reduction in recidivism (“Think of the savings we’ll realize if we aren’t constantly welcoming back behind bars those prisoners who finish out their initial terms.”). If you really analyze this, it was one of the riskiest things she said (and I don’t necessarily mean that in a good way), because she was essentially promising that Bill Byars was going to be able to substantially reduce the recidivism rate. I hope she’s right, but I’m not holding my breath.

In going back and more carefully reading the text, I think Cindi is completely right, and I was completely wrong. Here’s the passage I misread before:

Over the last eight years, Jon Ozmint did a tremendous job running our prisons at the lowest cost per prisoner in the nation. My challenge to the judge is to take Mr. Ozmint’s reforms and move them one step further. His goal will not be just to produce the cheapest meals, but to reduce the number of meals he serves each day. And we can’t do that unless we lower the number of inmates that come back into the system.

The cost savings to the taxpayers of this state would be substantial. The immediate savings would be approximately $6 million in administrative costs alone. But the real dollars will come on the back end, when the judge fulfils his ultimate goal, the reduction of our recidivism rate.

The state of South Carolina pays more than $16,000 annually to incarcerate a single prisoner. We spend more each year on a prisoner than we do on a student. Think of the savings we’ll realize if we aren’t constantly welcoming back behind bars those prisoners who finish out their initial terms.

And think of the cultural impact. It’s immeasurable.

And here are the ill-considered words I wrote in my misunderstanding:

How’d you like this part? “The state of South Carolina pays more than $16,000 annually to incarcerate a single prisoner. We spend more each year on a prisoner than we do on a student. Think of the savings we’ll realize if we aren’t constantly welcoming back behind bars those prisoners who finish out their initial terms.” Usually, when a politician says that, he or she is suggesting that we need to do more to make sure kids get a good education so they don’t end up in prison, which IS more expensive. Nikki says it to justify spending less than our current lowest-in-the-nation amount per prisoner. One way she’d do this? Well, we’re already spending rock-bottom per meal, so we’ll just serve fewer meals. If you think this is a great idea, there’s nothing I can say to you. Except that there is a danger to all of us in running undermanned, underguarded prisons full of starved prisoners. But let’s move on.

Well, kick me for a stupid idiot. The governor wasn’t proposing to violate the Eighth Amendment by starving the prisoners. She was proposing to have fewer prisoners. And there is hardly a more laudable goal that she can have than that. Cindi’s also right to question how easily Bill Byars can deliver on that, but it’s certainly the right intent.

I shouldn’t have made this mistake. I even remember thinking as I typed it, “I can’t see Bill Byars being a party to starving prisoners,” but I suppose I thought she was saying this without checking with him. Or something. Bottom line, I wasn’t thinking enough.

And that’s one of the problems with blogging — or with MY blogging. I don’t often make mistakes like this one (or as blatant as this one), but the potential is always there. Partly because of the fact that I have a full-time job of which the blog is not a part. But also partly because this medium doesn’t promote the same kind of rigor that my old job did. I have to learn to inject that rigor in spite of the things that dictate against it, but I guess I’m still learning.

Last night, after I FINALLY, at the end of a long day, got around to posting something on the governor’s speech (something I did far too hurriedly after chafing all day to get to it), I happened to have a conversation with Kathryn Fenner (I ran some clothes for the homeless by her house, because yesterday was the deadline for that). I mentioned to her that I had just written something about the speech, but that I was uncomfortable with it because it was far too hasty. I also knew that I was out of steam and wouldn’t be able to improve on it that night, but had posted it because I felt I was already too far behind the curve not to.

And then I said that there aren’t all that many things that I miss about newspaper work, but here’s one: While I hated having that weekly column deadline hanging over me (mainly because I worked a more than full-time job without counting any of the time I spent on those columns), what I DID miss was the discipline and rigor of writing that column, knowing that it would be in print.

I said that because I was feeling a familiar feeling. Often on Thursday nights, I would make myself stay at the office late (as I did last night), so that I could at least completely rough out a Sunday column. I would leave knowing that it was very rough, with a lot of stream-of-consciousness and maybe some holes in it, but that I had SOMETHING to start with. Almost always, I would come in the next morning and rewrite it from top to bottom, frequently completely changing my mind about a point I had made, or at least drastically changing the emphasis. And then, at the end of THAT process, I had something worth publishing.

On top of that, I had people like Cindi, highly trained and knowledgeable professionals who often knew more than I did about points I was making, reading behind me and correcting any errors in my final version. And then I had all day Saturday that I could come in and change it if I felt the need (and sometimes I did).

Blogging isn’t like that. Blogging is more NOW — which is why I was so antsy last night because 24 hours had passed without my saying anything about the speech.

Yeah, I know that sounds like excuses. And I pledge to you to do everything in my power to overcome the challenges inherent in this medium. But I failed to do that this time.

So, my apologies to Gov. Nikki Haley, and to you, my readers. And my praise to her for wanting to reduce the absurd number of people we lock up in this state, which aside from the social and moral cost, is indeed an excessive drain on our limited fiscal resources.

Now, to move on, and try to do better.

Prospective cover photo for my next album

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OK, so technically it would actually be my first album. And of course, I first have to have a band, and learn some songs, and other details. It’s a project that’s been in the works for about 40 years. But don’t make like I’m procrastinating or anything. As you well know, I’ve been working on band names, and a playlist, and other essentials. (As a former managing editor I knew who was famous for his malaprops used to say, there I go again, putting the horse before the cart.)

And now, my cover art. Never mind that cover art is a passé art form, because people don’t put covers on their MP3s. I don’t care. I love album covers. Art for art’s sake, and all that. Let the Philistines sneer. Or the modernists. Or whoever is inclined to sneer, let them.

Bottom line, today is another really busy day, and I have two or three little ADCO projects I have yet to start, and finish, by the end of the day. So just to say I posted something, here ya go.

The backstory: This VERY out-of-tune piano was in the hallway outside our room at the bed-and-breakfast where we stayed in Oxford (that’s the exterior below). No one but me touched the piano while we were there. I would have known; immediately on the other side of the wall it’s up against is the head of the bed I slept in.

What am I playing? Well, my right hand is playing the opening chords of “Let it Be.” My left hand is just posing. I never really even learned to play the piano with one hand, much less play with two at the same time.

Anyway, I’m the front man. I don’t need an actual talent.

As for my costume… there’s no costume; these are my real clothes. I liked wearing them for this because something about the ensemble made me think of the “Our House” video by Madness. (Watch the first 45 seconds to see what I mean.) And no, I didn’t get that hat to wear in England (although lots of guys there actually DO wear them, and by no means are they all tourists). I’ve been wearing that very hat for more than 30 years. Not every day, of course, but often on weekends.

And finally, the credit. My wife shot this picture, quite reluctantly (and hurriedly, lest another guest see her doing it), at my request. She’s very patient. And she’s always paying me compliments. For instance, when she caught me using my digital recorder to record the sounds of the coffee shop at Blackwell’s book store in Oxford, she said “You’re very different from traveling with Mary.” Mary being her friend that she backpacked around Europe with just before she met me and I started monopolizing her time.

I took it as a compliment, anyway.

Stand in the place where you live

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Strong misgivings: Yossarian and the chaplain.

For the longest time, I didn’t have a quotation on my Facebook profile. This didn’t seem right. I’m all about words. I’m all about pithy expressions of one’s world view, yadda, yadda. (Although I fear that now that I no longer have the discipline of writing a weekly column, I’ve gotten somewhat lazy about it, hence the “yadda, yadda.”)

Loads of other people — people who were not overly thoughtful students of rhetoric, judging by the quotations they chose — had multiple quotations. They had all sorts of things they wanted to say — or rather, things they wanted to let other people say for them.

But the thing is, I like so MANY things that I read — one of my problems in reading books is that, as I read them, I follow people around reading great passages aloud to them (and a well-written book will have at least one such passage per page), which is why people avoid me when I’m reading books — that the idea of singling out one, or two, or even 10 such quotes just seemed too restrictive. I thought, What is that good that I’m willing to have it almost as a personal epitaph? People will see that and think this sums me up. What quotation is there that I like that much?

It would need to be semi-original (obviously, if it were entirely original, it wouldn’t be a quotation). It couldn’t be trite. I couldn’t have seen anyone else use it. It needed to say something I believe. And it needed to be something that has truly stuck with me over time, as opposed to, say, the funniest recent thing I’ve read on Twitter.

So one day it struck me that I should post this:

“I wouldn’t want to live without strong misgivings. Right, Chaplain?”
— Yossarian, in Joseph Heller’s Catch-22

So I did.

And for the longest time, that stood alone, and I was satisfied to let it do so. I liked it on a number of levels. For instance, in a day when our politics are dominated by people who are SO DAMNED SURE they’re right and other people are wrong, it had a certain countercultural UnParty flavor to it. At the same time, it’s not an existential statement of doubt — the fact that he’s saying it to a chaplain, one who certainly believes in God (although in an unorthodox way, being an Anabaptist), anchors it in belief, but still expresses the idea that one should always be willing to question one’s assumptions.

It also said something I wanted others to know about me. Because I tend to argue whatever position I’m arguing rather tenaciously, even vociferously, people tend to think I’m inflexible. They’re wrong about this. I can usually think of all the reasons I might be wrong just as readily as they can, perhaps even more readily. (After all, one of the main steps in building an argument is imagining all the objections to it.) For instance, take our arguments over the Iraq War, or the debates I have with libertarians. My interlocutors think I’m a bloodthirsty war lover, and a rigid authoritarian. But I’m not, not really. I have a tendency to argue very insistently with your more radical libertarians because I think they go overboard, and that I have to pull REALLY HARD in the other direction to achieve any balance. And on the subject of the war, well… when you reach the conclusion that military action is necessary, and that action is initiated, I feel VERY strongly that you have to see it through, and that the time for debating whether to initiate it is long past. At least, that’s the way I saw the Iraq situation. That doesn’t mean I didn’t think there were viable arguments against it in the first place — I was just unpersuaded by them.

I suppose I could go on and on about why I like the quotation, but that’s not what this post is about.

This post is about the fact that I thought that quote was sort of lonesome, so I added another today:

“Stand in the place where you live.”
— R.E.M.

And here’s why I picked this one.

I’ve always had a beef with people who constantly tear down the place where they live. You know, the whiners who always want to be someplace else. The people who seem to think that if it’s local, it’s no good. These people are destructive. They’re not good neighbors to have.

You know that I’m a born critic, and I’m constantly expressing dissatisfaction with aspects of Columbia, or South Carolina. But I do it from a love of my home, and from a determination to make it better. If there’s something you don’t like about your home, you should be trying with all your might to make it better.

To me, this is a fundamental moral obligation. And like most true believers, I can find Scripture to back it up. Remember the passage that Nathan Ballentine came up with to encourage me when I got laid off? It was Jeremiah 29:11:

For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare, not for woe! plans to give you a future full of hope.

Well, when I looked that up, I found that I liked what preceded that just as much, the passage in which the prophet told the people not to whine about being in exile, but to affirmatively embrace the place where they were, and get on with life in it:

Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I exiled from Jerusalem to Babylon:
Build houses to dwell in; plant gardens, and eat their fruits.
Take wives and beget sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters husbands, so that they may bear sons and daughters. There you must increase in number, not decrease.
Promote the welfare of the city to which I have exiled you; pray for it to the LORD, for upon its welfare depends your own.

Let’s repeat that last:

Promote the welfare of the city to which I have exiled you; pray for it to the LORD, for upon its welfare depends your own.

Amen, I say unto you. Stand in the place where you live.

Thoughts on the inauguration?

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Maybe you, too, are behind on work. But with me, the suspension of activity at the start of this week, which has put everybody at ADCO behind, was piled on top of two full weeks out of action.

So it is that, since coming back to work Wednesday morning, I’ve not had time to stop and pay attention to anything going on that I might have blogged about. That includes the inaugural activities yesterday for governor, constitutional officers and other officials. LAST time around, I was all over it on the old blog (as in years past, I just mention last time because that was the first inaugural when I had a blog). Back then, I had this post and this one and this one and this one, and probably more. THIS time, I not only didn’t get out to any of the events, I haven’t even had time to read any of the coverage of it. I mean, I glanced at The State this morning during a hurried breakfast (and didn’t see much worth commenting on), but was then in solid, back-to-back meetings from 9 until 5:30 today.

So… do any of y’all have thoughts on yesterday’s events — what was said or what was done? If you need fodder, here’s a story that was in The State, and here’s the text of Nikki’s speech, and here’s some reaction to it.

Maybe something y’all will say will inspire me to say something.

So why NOT repeal the 17th Amendment?

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So this morning Stan Dubinsky brought my attention to this piece by Christopher Hitchens, which in turn led me to this piece by Ross Douthat, in which he is defending the Tea Party from the charge of being a reincarnation of the John Birch Society thusly:

These parallels are real. But there’s a crucial difference. The Birchers only had a crackpot message; they never found a mainstream one. The Tea Party marries fringe concerns (repeal the 17th Amendment!) to a timely, responsible-seeming message about spending and deficits. Which is why, for now at least, it’s winning over independents in a way that movements like the Birchers rarely did…

I’m with Hitchens in that I grow weary of normal conservatives making excuses for the Tea Party. But that’s not why I bring this up. I bring it up to ask, why would repealing the 17th Amendment be considered a “fringe concern”? I actually consider it one of the more defensible TP positions. (I suspect that the TPers hold this position for reasons different from my own, but why be overcritical of a gift horse?)

The Framers created the House and Senate to be very different institutions, on a fundamental level. Actually, on a number of fundamental levels.

First, they wanted the constituencies to be different. That’s an essential element in making checks and balances work. The president is elected by the electoral college, which in turn is more or less selected by popular vote (although not originally, but hey, one fight at a time), and can only serve four years at a time (let’s also set aside the newfangled term limit). Judges are chosen by the president, with advice and consent of the Senate. The House of Representatives is the People’s House, and consists of directly, popularly elected delegates who have to run for election every five minutes (or two years, which amounts to the same thing), and are therefore particularly attuned to popular whims, ripples and twitches, in real time. Senators, by contrast, are supposed to be somewhat above that fray, and are supposed to represent STATES, not groups of individual voters.

Also, in connection with the idea that senators represent states rather than aggregations of individuals, each state has two, and only two. The idea being that we have the House for the sake of more populous states, and the senate to even things out a bit for the smallest states. At least, thank goodness, in all the “reforms” since the late 18th century, we haven’t done to the U.S. Senate what we’ve done here in South Carolina — utterly destroying the very notion of the senate as a thing apart by imposing single-member districts on it, just as we did to the House.

Nevertheless, what we have done is turn the U.S. Senate into another House, only with longer terms. Which sort of defeats the purpose of a bicameral legislature.

Yeah, I know the reasons why we made the change, and they will be shouted at me in response to this — but they are all arguments more suitable to a democracy than a republic. And the latter is what our founders rightly intended.

And… I also understand by “serious” conservatives would regard this as a “fringe concern,” so perhaps I was being a bit disingenuous above. It’s … esoteric. And for people who have lived their whole lives with the present state of affairs, there seems to be something actually unAmerican about letting legislatures choose senators. And I’m sure that I’ll hear emotional arguments that unfairly conflate the original arrangement with slavery. But what it actually was was an elegant part of a delicate balance, and that balance has been lost, as every member of both of the political branches runs about with his wet finger in the air.

Anyway, I raise the question in case someone has an argument, pro or con, that I haven’t heard yet. And also because, you know, I can’t leave well enough alone…

Oprah helps out another struggling writer

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Got an ad from Barnes & Noble via email saying, “Just Announced!… Oprah’s Latest Book Club Pick.”

Turns out it was something called A Tale of Two Cities by one Charles Dickens. I’m glad Oprah decided to help the guy out. He deserves a wider audience. I see he’s from London. Maybe I’ll look him up when I’m there at the end of the month, give him a little publicity on the blog.

This reminds me of two things:

  1. I still haven’t read that book. I’ve started a couple of times, but didn’t get into it, which my eldest daughter finds incredible, since it’s one of her faves. Maybe I should try again, after I get done reading Tony Blair’s book. I’m in a sweat to finish Tony’s, you know, in case I run into him over there. What if I I ran into him at Starbucks or something (hey, it’s a small country), and he asked what I thought of his book and I hadn’t read it? What a proper flat I should look. (And yes, I know my British slang needs updating. It’s not even up to Dickens’ era, being stuck in about 1810.)
  2. I read an interesting book review this morning, about a book titled The Other Dickens, a tale of Charles’ wife and how beastly he was to her. Which, of course, also reminded me of how I hadn’t read A Tale of Two Cities.

About that review, in the WSJ — I was struck by this bit of criticism:

There is a rather significant moment in 1849 when he insists on chloroform at the birth of Henry Dickens. A tender gesture aimed at sparing his wife pain? Ms. Nayder has other ideas: “a victory of male medical expertise over natural forces,” she decides, in which such “victory” is “compromised by the method through which it is achieved: the dissociation of mind from her body . . . and her consequent objectification.” This is sharply put, but you have a feeling that Dickens’s omitting to send out for anesthetics would have been equally culpable.

The bit about “objectification” gestures at another of Ms. Nayder’s contexts, which is her determination to give Catherine not so much a life of her own as one acceptable to the ukases of 21st-century academe. Nobody in “The Other Dickens”—remember that this is the age of Gladstone and Disraeli—does anything that is merely idiosyncratic: Having been “disempowered,” they perform “transgressive acts” that may or may not leave them in a state of “valorization.”

In other words, the author was somehow ideologically incapable of reaching the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, Dickens was, as an individual person, simply a jerk.

This got me to wondering about something else, after having watched “Frida” last night and being immersed in arguments among Mexican communists back in the 1930s: Which is more given to silly, pompous jargon — feminism or Marxism. Discuss.

“Swamp Fox, Swamp Fox, tail on his hat…”

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A reader this week reminded me of something that I may have known, but had forgotten — that long before he was the funniest deadpan comic actor in America, Leslie Nielsen was … “The Swamp Fox” on TV. She wrote:

I occasionally post on your blog as Abba.  Would you consider posting this clip from YouTube showing Leslie Nielsen, who died this week, as South Carolina’s Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox, in Disney’s series from the early 1960s – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vvQJ7ZDg1Y.  Here’s a longer version – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVGN1pDzYAY&feature=related.  Leslie Nielsen never looked so good!  This clip has the catchy theme song that I remember so well from my childhood.  We used to play the Swamp Fox on the playground at school, and many of the boys in my class had tri-cornered hats with fox tails attached.  Hear the song once, and you’ll be humming it all day long!  A fitting tribute to Leslie Nielsen from our corner of the world, I think.

I loved that show, which ran from October 23, 1959 (right after my 6th birthday) to January 15, 1961 — hardly more than a year.

Like the far, far more successful “Davy Crockett” series and generally forgotten “Gray Ghost,” these shows inspired me and other very young kids to run out and play at being actual figures from history. (Anyone remember that goofy, overly elaborate way Col. Mosby saluted? I thought it was cool, and used to go around imitating it. Wouldn’t you like to see video of that?)

Actually, to take that a bit farther… to this day, whenever I hear the words “Tory” and “Patriot,” I think of first hearing them used on “The Swamp Fox.” So while my understanding of the term was to grow and expand later, I actually had a minimal working knowledge of what a “Tory” was at the age of 6. If I ran into a 6-year-old who used a term like that today, I’d be shocked. But it was common currency among fans of “The Swamp Fox.”

I can also remember a conversation I had with my uncle about “The Gray Ghost.” I was confused about the whole blue-vs.-gray thing (especially since I was watching it in black-and-white), and I asked him during one show, “Are those the good guys or the bad guys?” My uncle, who was only a kid himself (six years older than I) could have given me a simplistic answer, but instead, he said, “Well, they’re both Americans…” and went on to suggest that a case could be made for both being good guys. That sort of rocked my world. There was no such ambiguity on the Westerns I watched. This was my introduction to the concept that in war, in politics, in life, things can be complicated, that there are many shades of gray. Perhaps the track that set mind on has something to do with why I don’t buy into the whole Democrat-vs.-Republican, left-vs.-right dichotomy that drives our politics. After all, they’re all Americans. And in the wider world, they’re all humans. Even the Nazis. (Of course, this doesn’t keep me from understanding that when humans’ actions go beyond the pale — as with Nazis, or terrorists — they must be opposed, with force if necessary.)

Also, while at first I didn’t think I remembered the “Swamp Fox” theme song, as I listened to it repeated over and over on that clip above, I had a dim memory of being struck by the odd syntax of that second line, “no one knows where the Swamp Fox at” — I didn’t know WHY it sounded odd (I was just learning to read, and hadn’t gotten to grammar yet), it just did.

In other words, these shows — which presented very simplistic, often inaccurate glimpses of history — not only helped feed a lifelong interest in history, but helped foster the ability to think.

So… TV doesn’t actually have to be junk, although it’s often hard to remember that these days.

Bad Things Arising (got to shake these from my head)

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Over the weekend, I had some silly be-bop song running through my head, after hearing it on a CD my wife was playing in the kitchen. Perfectly harmless, and no permanent damage. I’ve already forgotten what song it was.

Today, something more ominous has gripped my mind… I’ve got two songs from “Jesus Christ Superstar” running through my mind — “This Jesus Must Die” (which is bad enough) and “Judas’ Death.”

This is what I get, I suppose, for not going to Mass yesterday. I had a cold, I was scheduled to administer the Eucharist, and under the circumstances I thought it best not to show.

Now this.

Sample lyrics from the first song:

Caiaphas:

Fools! You have no perception
The stakes we are gambling
Are frighteningly high
We must crush him completely
So like John before him
This Jesus must die
For the sake of the nation
This Jesus must die
Must die, must die
This Jesus must die…

And a sample from the second:

Judas
My God, I saw him
He looked three-quarters dead
And he was so bad
I had to turn my head
You beat him so hard
That he was bent and lame
And I know who everybody’s
Going to blame
I don’t believe he knows
I acted for our good
I’d save him all the suffering
If I could
Don’t believe
Our good
Save him
If I could

Now, in my defense, the first song really has some appealingly clever lyrics, before you get to the bloodthirsty ones:

Annas
What then to do about Jesus of Nazareth?
Miracle wonderman, hero of fools

Priest
No riots, no army, no fighting, no slogans

Caiaphas
One thing I’ll say for him, Jesus is cool…

What then to do about this Jesusmania?
How do we deal with the carpenter king?
Where do we start with a man who is bigger
Than John was when John did his baptism thing?

But nevertheless, this is not a good way to start the week…

McCain has a point comparing Palin, Reagan

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Since I don’t watch those Sunday talk shows, I’m always reading the reactions, and reactions to reactions, on Monday (which is quite soon enough to suit me). Today I’m reading what Chris Cillizza has to say about what John McCain said on Sunday:

The Arizona Republican, responding to a question from CNN’s Candy Crowley about Palin being “divisive,” noted that Ronald Reagan was often seen as divisive as well.

It wasn’t a direct comparison to Reagan (McCain never said Palin is similar to Reagan), but it was a comparison nonetheless. And the reaction was swift, as it often is when it comes to Palin.

So the big question follows: Is it a valid comparison? The answer: In many ways, yes.

The fact is that Reagan has benefited tremendously from the years since his presidency, and people look back on him in a much favorable light than they did during his presidency.

According to Gallup polling data, Reagan’s average approval rating during his presidency was 53 percent — lower than John F. Kennedy,Lyndon Johnson, Dwight Eisenhower and George H.W. Bush andBill Clinton.

As for the operative word here — “divisiveness” — Reagan had a claim to it. Many more Republicans approved of him than Democrats, and even at his peak, just 68 percent of Americans approved of him, a number lower than everyone but Richard Nixon over the last 65 years.

The reason Reagan couldn’t get higher than that was because there was a segment of the population, about one-third, that was dead-set against him. Reagan is often listed in polls of people’s favorite presidents, but because of that one-third, he’s also among the leaders for people’s least favorite presidents. His detractors often feel just as strongly as his supporters about Reagan’s legacy.

Recent polling shows Palin is on par with all of that…

Hey, it works for me. I, for the record, was among that one-third. And probably one of the more adamant members of that segment. My attitude has softened somewhat over the years, but that may be due to the 1984-style revisionism to which I’ve been subjected in media for more than two decades. You know, Ronald Reagan was a great president; he was always a great president — and we have always been at war with Eastasia. (Or would a better analogy be the sleep-teaching in Brave New World? Discuss.)

To the extent that I can clearly recall the past, I remember seeing Reagan — when he emerged on the national scene in 1976, then again in 1980 — as a destructive, negative, insurgent, dumbing-down force in the GOP. So yeah, a comparison to Sarah Palin is valid on those grounds.

Of course, after all these years of hearing what a great job he did, it seems a disservice to him to compare him to Mrs. Palin. One thing’s for sure, though — as a thoroughly professional actor, Reagan played the role of president with far greater dignity than I can imagine the ex-governor of Alaska managing to project.

But… um… she’s 48 years old…

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Mostly, I do a good job of ignoring celebrity “news.” I have been, for instance, only vaguely aware (and therefore vaguely appalled) that some people actually seem to care about some sort of scoring controversy on a dance competition show that involves the daughter of the former governor of Alaska.

But today, curiosity got the better of me, when I saw this item on Twitter:

Kelly Preston and John Travolta Welcome a Son http://bit.ly/g4ypDG (via @CelebCircuit) /via @CBSNews

Right away, I thought to myself that the sentence, “Kelly Preston and John Travolta welcome a son…” would continue, in the longer-than-Twitter format of a Web page, “… home from Afghanistan for Thanksgiving,” or some such.

Surely they didn’t… oh yes, they did:

NEW YORK (CBS/AP) John Travolta and Kelly Preston’s baby Benjamin has arrived.

A publicist says the couple’s son was born Tuesday at an undisclosed Florida hospital. The baby weighed 8 lbs., 3 oz.

“John, Kelly and their daughter Ella Bleu are ecstatic and very happy about the newest member of the family,” the family said in astatement. “Both mother and baby are healthy and doing beautifully.”…

All right, then, surely they had this child via surrogate. Or he’s adopted. But no, apparently not.

Set aside the creepiness of a “replacement baby” so soon after their nearly-grown son died (another piece of celebrity news that made it through my defenses). John Travolta is… like… my age. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t actually high school-age when he made “Welcome Back, Kotter.”

And his wife — even though she’s a lovely, youthful-looking woman; don’t get me wrong here — probably isn’t all that much younger, if she was the mother of the boy who died.

Yep: She’s 48.

When I was her age, not only was I a grandfather, but my two sons (neither of whom was my oldest child) were 23 and 21.

There are all sorts of things I could say about wealthy celebrities thinking they can have anything they want, including their youth back, and what that implies for our society at large…

But I won’t. I’ll just say “mazel tov,” and walk away shaking my head…

It’s too easy to get my conscience on my case

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FYI, folks, I got this from Randy Page over at SCRG, in response to this earlier post:

Appreciate your selective use of tweets from the SCRG account….

Ouch. I hate it that Randy feels put upon — I think he’s a nice guy and I want him to think I’m a nice guy, too, and all that — but it wasn’t all that selective. I mean, go look at the timeline. You be the judge.

I said the Onion thing reminded me of SOME of SCRG’s Tweets, and I showed you some of  the ones I was talking about. And I didn’t have to look hard. (And the ONE Tweet I found saying something positive about schools — “Schools’ Report Cards Improve” — hardly disproves my thesis, since in the same span of time I easily found seven negative ones. Since my post, SCRG has had two new Tweets. Neither was complimentary toward public schools, and one said “South Carolina’s Worst Elementary and Middle Schools.” I’m not holding my breath waiting for that companion Tweet about the BEST schools…)

I don’t see that I did a single wrong thing there. I definitely didn’t misrepresent the overwhelmingly predominate thrust of SCRG’s Tweets. But I still feel bad about it. As Mark Twain wrote (in the voice of Huck Finn):

But that’s always the way; it don’t make no difference whether you do right or wrong, a person’s conscience ain’t got no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that didn’t know no more than a person’s conscience does I would pison him. It takes up more room than all the rest of a person’s insides, and yet ain’t no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same.

Uh-oh. Now I’m going to get in trouble with animal lovers. Hey, it was Huck Finn who said it, not me… There’s goes my danged conscience again…

My lame routine at Rotary today

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On Friday, I got the call asking me to fill in at today’s Rotary meeting with Health & Happiness — which as you may recall means coming up with jokes.

I stressed about it all weekend, because with me, the members expect topical, original material — and I just hadn’t seen much to laugh about recently.

But I had to come up with something, so here’s what I came up with:

As y’all know, I generally try, in my own poor way, to offer y’all a little humorous commentary on the passing parade of current events.

I prefer doing that to falling back on the tried and true method of googling “clean jokes” on the Internet. Since I AM a writer, that just always feels like sort of a copout.

But folks, we are suffering a severe shortage of current events humor, particularly in the political arena. You may not have noticed, because it struck quite suddenly. We were enjoying a huge political comedy bubble in this state, but recently the bubble burst.

So it is that after the recent election, from my point of view, there’s not much to laugh about in the news.

There was a lot of stuff that was ALMOST funny, but it generally fell short of the mark. For instance:

  • There was good news and bad news in the U.S. House elections. The good news is that the hapless Democrats are no longer in charge. The bad news is that the Republicans ARE going be in charge. We, the people, just can’t win, and it’s not a bit funny.
  • Being a guy who gets his news via the written word, I thought for a brief time that there was some comic possibility in the name of the man who would be our new speaker of the House. Imagine my bitter disappointment when I heard on the radio that B-o-e-h-n-e-r is pronounced “BAY-ner.” What a loss to comedy! (Pause.) I’m going to give you a moment to think about that one…
  • Moving on, Alvin Greene also disappointed us. He gave it a good run, but fell just a BIT short of winning his election, so now we don’t have Alvin Greene to kick around anymore. Of course, now he says he’s going to run for president. I mean, he’s doing his best for us, and I appreciate that, but he’s completely lost the strategic advantage of surprise, and I’m concerned that he might not be able to cinch the nomination this time.
  • Then there’s Christine O’Donnell, the former teenage witch. We had a lot of fun with her during the election, and she promised to be a hoot and a half once she got to the Senate. And that was looking good, since she had that can’t-miss Tea Party kingmaker, Jim DeMint, backing her. Apparently, neither his magic nor hers was working. Maybe she SHOULD have joined that coven, after all.
  • Here’s how bad it’s gotten on the political humor front: I heard the other day that Gov. Sanford was seen actually hiking the Appalachian Trail – or thereabouts, anyway. No detour to, say, Patagonia. I mean, when you can’t rely on Mark Sanford, what are you gonna do?

Now, I don’t want to leave y’all feeling hopeless. There are some promising developments on the horizon:

  • First, South Carolina still has the first-in-the-South Republican presidential primary, and it’s only 14 months away. So there’s all sorts of potential for tomfoolery in the days to come.
  • Next, Nancy Pelosi isn’t fading away, but seems poised to come back as the new minority leader. This will at least please South Carolina Republicans. You may have noticed in the recent election how they LOVE saying her name, over and over, whether it’s relevant to the subject at hand or not. Say “good morning” to a Republican running for Congress, and he’ll say “Nancy Pelosi.”
  • Oh, and how about the way she resolved the fight between our own Jim Clyburn and Steny Hoyer over the meaningless post of minority whip? She made up an even MORE meaningless position for Mr. Clyburn as a consolation prize. THAT has potential. I launched a contest today on my blog to come up with a fitting title for that post. I’m leaning toward “Once and Future Whip,” or maybe “Whip Wannabe.”
  • Finally, I see that our new governor-elect has named her transition team, saying she chose its members based on their success in their chosen fields. Then I saw she had named her husband to the team. Now, that fact in and of itself doesn’t quite rise to the level of “funny,” but it has promise. And I promise YOU that I will keep an eye on that situation and report back if anything develops.

Anyway, bottom line, I told y’all this wouldn’t be funny. So let me close with this little story I pulled off the Internet:

A politician, a clergyman, and a Boy Scout were passengers in a small plane that developed engine trouble. The pilot announced, “We’ll have to bail out. Unfortunately, there are only three parachutes. I have a wife and seven small children. My family needs me. I’m taking one of the parachutes and jumping out!” And he jumped. Then the politician said, “I am the smartest politician in the world. The country needs me. I’m taking one of the parachutes.” And he jumped. The clergyman said to the Boy Scout, “I’ve had a good life and yours is still ahead of you. You take the last parachute.” The scout shrugged and said, “Don’t need to. There are two parachutes left. The smartest politician in the world just jumped with my knapsack!”

How did it go? Well, let’s put it this way — I got a big laugh on the joke I pulled from the Internet. But I wasn’t disappointed. The small laughs I got in response to the rest was the most I was hoping for.

It definitely wasn’t like the times that I KILLED. But I didn’t totally die, either…

“On Armistice Day, the philharmonic will play…”

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… but I won’t have a lot to say, even though I should.

I’ve always been terrible about these annual observances. I feel like I shouldn’t say anything unless I have something really new, really interesting, to say.

And I don’t have anything really impressive to say about Veterans Day, formerly Armistice Day, the 11th day of the 11th month, etc.

It’s not that I don’t think it’s important. Bud would accuse me (and frequently does) of making a sort of fetish of veteran worship. I am profoundly bowled over by the sacrifices of anyone who has served in combat for this country. Or served at all, even in rear areas. Interrupting one’s life to don the uniform and go where you are sent, perhaps for years on end, is a profound thing to do. Something we could use a lot more of. This is something that I think about, and read about, a LOT, and sometimes write about.

Unfortunately, except for the very few, too few, who have served in Iraq and Afghanistan — or Kuwait or Somalia or Bosnia or wherever — Veterans Day is about honoring previous generations. I mean, it’s great that we honor them, but it’s a shame that we associate “veteran” with old age as much as we do. The draft ended when I turned 19, the year I would have been called if I had been, and far too few people my age and younger have the experience of uniformed service. And that’s a loss — to our politics, to our civic life, to anything that depends upon a large portion of our society having the experience of having contributed to something larger than themselves. So our society, and our politics, have gotten meaner, pettier, more inward.

But this isn’t the day for that kind of talk. Earlier today, my son-in-law called to ask whether I was at the parade. I wasn’t. I was at work, where I’m trying to get my head above water on some ADCO projects now that the election is over. Which is why I haven’t posted much the last few days. And why I haven’t said anything, until now, about Veterans Day. Or the Marine Corps birthday yesterday.

How were YOUR election stats? Here are mine

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On Tuesday, I almost, but not quite, posted a list of exactly how I voted on everything. Blogs are confessional in nature, and now that I no longer have a newspaper to embarrass, why not let it all hang out?

But then, my latent respect for the confidentiality of the voting booth kicked in. It’s one thing to be honest with people, and to tell them ALMOST everything. But to go all the way? I don’t know. I’m still pondering.

When I was at the paper, by the way, I generally voted a straight editorial board ticket. (This is NOT the same as voting a straight-party ticket, a sin for which the punishment should be immediate, permanent loss of the right to vote. A straight-party vote means the voter has surrendered his right to decide to another entity. The paper’s endorsements largely reflected my own careful discernments, aided by interaction with other smart folks.)  Not always, though, because I didn’t always win the endorsement arguments (and despite what they say about me, I DID sometimes bow to a consensus, even though my colleagues were, of course, wrong). And sometimes I’d do quirky things like decide to vote for a write-in, whereas I had insisted that the board choose the lesser of two undesirable candidates who had a chance. But usually, a straight ticket.

I was conscious of that in the booth on Tuesday, and made note of the degree to which I agreed with my former colleagues this time. And I ran other dichotomies as well — Democrats vs. Republicans, won-lost, etc. I sort of got into the habit of doing this with The State’s endorsements several years back at the paper. And then each year, I’d add new stats to the running totals. One grows tired of people spreading the canard that one’s candidates always lose (when close to 75 percent of the paper’s endorsees won), or that one “always” endorses Democrats, or “always” endorses Republicans (the cumulative over 12 years was almost exactly 50-50, with the Democrats slightly edging out Republicans, but with the paper never breaking its string GOP endorsements for president — although we came very close in 2008). You can see a discussion of those stats back here, and here is my simple little spreadsheet.

So here’s what I found:

  • Here are The State‘s endorsements. Among the very few candidates they endorsed, I agreed on three and disagreed on one. So congratulations, Cindi and Warren, y’all were 75 percent right.
  • Ditto with the four constitutional questions. The paper went “no, no, yes, no,” and I went “no, yes, yes, no.” More about that in a moment. Of course, I agreed with the paper on the sales tax referendum, but since I live in Lexington County, I didn’t get to vote on that.
  • I voted for four Democrats, and seven Republicans. None of the Democrats won. Of course, one was a write-in. All but one — also a write-in — of the Republicans won. (The paper went with one Democrat and three Republicans.)
  • Not counting the two write-ins, which wouldn’t be fair to my stats, five of my choices in contested races won, and three lost.
  • I didn’t vote for either treasurer, where Loftis faced no opposition, or for secretary of state, where I knew nothing about Mark Hammond’s opponent (but knew he would win). I DID vote, however, for Gen. Livingston even though he had no opposition, because I’ve heard many good things about him.
  • About the write-ins… I voted for Joe Riley for the U.S. Senate. Hey, if he’s not going to run for governor, I might as well vote for him for something. Then, trying to think of a Republican (to balance out Mayor Riley) in the 2nd Congressional District as an alternative to Joe Wilson and Rob Miller, I went with Nathan Ballentine. (He does live in the district, right?)
  • Finally, a confession. And don’t tell Cindi Scoppe about this. But I did something I would never have done as an editorial page editor… I voted on a constitutional amendment according to my own political attitudes, rather than in keeping with the larger principle of not cluttering up the constitution with political statements. I voted “yes” on the amendment to make union-vote ballots secret. Yeah, I know it will be invalidated by whatever Congress does, and the constitution is not the place for empty gestures. But I agree with Lindsey Graham on this, and I said so with my vote. Maybe I was influenced by that “Johnny Sack” video I saw a year or two back. I’m kinda embarrassed about it — it smacks of voting my “gut,” which is unseemly — but there it is.

Mind you, I was keeping track of all this stuff, making little notes to myself, having little internal debates on several of the candidates and issues, even while being distracted by that little drama going on in the next booth. So I was in there awhile. I always am. I take my franchise VERY seriously.

I would discuss this, but I don’t have time

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The Juan Williams mess led to a long and provocative thread about normal fears and irrational prejudices, and what we should feel free to express about certain situations in modern life without getting fired for it.

And at some point, I posted the following in that thread, and it was so long I decided to make it into a separate post, even though, once I post it, I really need to move on to other stuff… Anyway, what I said was”

You know, there’s a whole conversation I’d be interested to have here about the way a healthy human brain works that takes this out of the realm of political correctness-vs.-Angry White Males, which is about as deep as we usually go.

But in the last week of an election, when I’m having trouble blogging at all, much less keeping up with all the election-related things I need to be writing about… I don’t have time to set out all my thoughts on the subject.

But to sort of give a hint…

What I’m thinking is this: There are certain things that we decry today, in the name of being a pluralistic society under the rule of law, that are really just commonsense survival strategies, things programmed into us by eons of evolution.

For instance, we sneer at people for being uneasy in certain situations — say, among a group of young males of a different culture or subculture. And we are right to sneer, to a certain extent, because we are enlightened modern people.

But, if our ancestors weren’t uneasy and ready to fight or flee in such a situation, they wouldn’t have lived to reproduce, and we wouldn’t be here. Thousands of years ago, people who felt all warm and fuzzy and wanted to celebrate multiculturalism when in the company of a bunch of guys from the rival tribe got eaten for dinner, and as a result, those people are NOT our ancestors. We inherited our genes from the edgy, suspicious, cranky people — the racists and nativists of their day.

Take that to the next level, and we recognize that such tendencies are atavistic, and that it’s actually advantageous in our modern market economy governed by liberal democracies to be at ease with folks from the other “tribes.” In fact, the more you can work constructively with people who are different, the more successful you will be at trade, etc.

So quite rightly we sneer at those who haven’t made the socio-evolutionary adjustment. They are not going to get the best mates, etc., because chicks don’t dig a guy who’s always itching for a fight. So they’re on the way out, right?

However… the world hasn’t entirely changed as much as we think it has. There are still certain dangers, and the key is to have the right senses to know when you need to be all cool and open and relaxed, and when you need to be suspicious as hell, and ready to take evasive or combative action.

This requires an even higher state of sophistication. Someone who is always suspicious of people who are different is one kind of fool. Someone who is NEVER suspicious of people who are different (and I’m thinking more of people with radically different world views — not Democrats vs. Republicans, but REALLY different — more than I am people wearing funny robes) is another kind of fool.

The key, ultimately, is not to be any kind of fool. The key is to be a thoughtful, flexible survivor who gets along great with the Middle-eastern-looking guy in the airport queue or the Spanish-speakers in the cereals aisle at Walmart, but who is ready to spring into action to deal with the Middle-eastern-looking guy in seat 13A who’s doing something weird with the smoking sole of his shoe (or the Aryan guy doing the same, but my point is that you don’t give the Arab pass in such a situation just to prove how broad-minded you are), or the Spanish-speaking guy wielding an AK-47 over a drug deal…

This may seem common sense, but there are areas in which we will see conflicts between sound common sense and our notions of rigid fairness in a liberal democracy. For instance, I submit that an intelligent person who deals with the world as it is will engage in a certain amount of profiling. I mean, what is profiling, anyway, but a gestalten summation of what you’ve learned about the world in your life, applied to present and future situations? The ability to generalize, and act upon generalizations — without overdoing it — are key life skills.

There are certain traits that put you on guard and make you particularly vigilant under particular circumstances, or you are a fool. If you’re in an airport and you see a group of 20-something Mediterranean-looking males (and young males from ANY culture always bear more watching than anyone else — sorry, guys, but y’all have a long rap sheet) unaccompanied by women or children or old men, and they’re muttering and fidgeting with something in their bags… you’re not very bright if you don’t think, “This bears watching.”

Now of course, knowing this, if I’m a terrorist organization, I’m going to break up that pattern as much as I can. (I’ll have them travel separately, wear western clothes, coach them not to seem furtive, etc. I’ll recruit middle-aged women if I can, although they generally have far too much sense.) So if you’re watching this scene, and you are intelligent, you’re bound to think, “These guys look SO suspicious that they must be innocent, because terrorists aren’t that stupid…” Well, yeah, they can be. Let me submit the evidence of the guy who set his underpants on fire… So there’s such a thing as overthinking the situation. I mean, how bright is a guy who wants to blow himself up to make a point? People who do that ALSO don’t reproduce, so evolution militates against it…

Anyway, I’d go on and on about this, and examine all the implications, and endeavor to challenge the assumptions of people of all political persuasions… but I don’t have time this week.