Category Archives: Personal

Say hello to Daddy Warbucks, only with hair

8 Replies

"Are you talkin' to ME?..."

Had an odd thing happen just a few minutes ago, as I was leaving a local drugstore, on my way back from taping something at ETV.

As I crossed the parking lot, I heard a small voice pipe up behind me, “Do you know where there are any jobs?”

Hearing no one respond, I turned and found a cute, petite, college-age (this was near USC) girl hurrying to catch up with me.

Once it was established she was addressing me, I asked, in order to have something to say, “What sort of job?” I was prepared for her to say almost anything, but not what she said: “Administrative.” Something ran through my head that the HR director at The State once told me about how young people today have unrealistic expectations of starting at the top.

I must have looked questioning, because she added, by way of explication, “You know, office work…”

“Well,” I told her, slowly, “I don’t know of anything at the moment…” searching my brain, thinking Wouldn’t it be cool to be able to live up to this girl’s unlikely expectation of me and actually connect this question with an actual job I’ve heard about, but came up dry.

Not wanting to leave it at that, I said, “Would you like to give me a card, so that if I hear of anything…?” with the alarm bells going off in my head as I realized how much that sounded like You wanna give me your phone number?, or how much it might sound like it to someone of her age and experience in life, but it was completely innocent, just what I’d ask of anyone else who told me he or she was job-hunting…

She, continuing to move on past me as I arrived at my car — I realized that we had kept moving the whole time — patted her pocket sort of nervously as though she would normally have cards, but had none today, and said, “No, I don’t have any cards on me…”

And I said, “Well, good luck!” And that was that.

She was bold as brass, which I suppose will stand her in good stead at some point. But what did I look like to her? Like Daddy Warbucks with hair, I suppose.

I didn’t have the heart to call after her and say, Honey, you just don’t know… it took me a year to find a job for myself…

Why spoil her illusions, especially when they are so flattering to me? She looked at me and thought me a powerful and magnanimous man, able to scatter jobs across the pavement like so many doubloons from a Mardi Gras float. Why spoil that, indeed?

Nikki wants us to know: She’s packin’ heat

19 Replies

Or at least, she’s authorized to pack heat, and wants to make sure we know it. This release was sent out today:

Gun Owners of America endorses Nikki Haley for governor


Grassroots organization praises Republican candidate for protecting 2nd Amendment rights

COLUMBIA, S.C. – State Rep. Nikki Haley, Republican candidate for governor, has earned the endorsement of Gun Owners of America, a grassroots organization with over 300,000 members that supports candidates in South Carolina who are committed to protecting 2nd Amendment rights.

“Gun Owners of America is proud to make this endorsement,” said GOA Vice-Chairman Tim Macy. “Nikki Haley stands 100% behind the rights of South Carolina’s gun owners and sportsmen. In particular, Rep. Haley strongly supports concealed carry of firearms by law-abiding citizens and will work to ease unreasonable restrictions on CWP holders.”

Rep. Haley thanked Gun Owners of America for its endorsement and said, “Few things are as clearly defined as the right of individual Americans to own and use firearms. The right to bear arms was deemed so critical by our Founders that they spelled it out in absolute terms, and it is my belief that any governmental action that undermines that right is in turn undermining the very freedoms that built our great nation. I hold a Concealed Weapons Permit myself, and as governor, I will continue to fight against any government infringement on the 2nd Amendment.”

-###-

The boldfaced emphasis is mine. So now you know. Make of it what you will.

Over the weekend, I went up to visit my relations in Bennettsville, the place of my birth. My uncle told me that my aunt recently finished qualifying for her own concealed-carry permit. When she got home, he asked her how she had done, and she showed him a silhouette target with a cluster of holes in the upper left center of the torso. He then asked, “What would you like for supper, dear?” True story. Or true according to my uncle, who is an accomplished teller of stories.

I wonder how Nikki did when she qualified?

Randolph and Mortimer Duke, redux

11 Replies

This afternoon at Rotary I found myself seated next to Boyd Summers, Richland County Democratic Party chairman. (Just to be ecumenical and UnParty, I also chatted with Richland County Republican Chairman Eric Davis after the meeting, so there.)

It was noted that he and I were wearing essentially the same tie, although mine was bow and his was not. Sort of a Palmetto variation on the old Brigade of Guards regimental stripe.

Anyway, having arrived way early for the meeting (I rode with Lanier Jones from ADCO, and as an ex-president of the club, he goes early), I had time for a digression. So I noted that we were like the Duke brothers, Randolph and Mortimer. I had to explain that the Duke brothers were the partners in Duke and Duke, the fictional Philadelphia commodities brokers in “Trading Places,” and that in every scene, they were wearing ties made from the same material, only Randolph (you know, Randy, like Randy Jackson of the Jackson five) wore a bow and Mortimer wore the more boring sort of tie.

When I was done with the explanation, John Durst said wow, you really notice detail, don’t you? I allowed as how I did, but that’s not really true. I mean, how could anyone NOT notice something like that — especially when one has seen the flick a certain number of times?

After the meeting, I got John to use my Blackberry to shoot the above photo, to record the moment. Aren’t you glad I did?

By the way, Joe Wilson noted to me that he, too, was wearing a similar tie. I nodded, but I was humoring him. His was like Boyd’s, except silver (as in, “Silver Elephant”) in the places where it should have been dark red. Obviously, Joe misread the memo.

Pandora needs a “like it a LOT” button (although it’s doing pretty well without one)

9 Replies

Here’s a conundrum…

Pandora, the “internet radio” site that attempts to use your feedback to shape “stations” that play stuff you like, has a pretty simple system for your input: After you enter a song or artist (or multiple songs or artists) that you’d like to hear, it guesses what else you might like based on that, and you click on either a thumbs-down button meaning “I don’t like this song,” or a thumbs-up meaning “I like this song.”

That’s it. No gradations of feedback. It’s way binary; ones and zeros. I try to click on one or the other on most songs. I don’t sit there poised with the mouse, but every few songs I ALT-TAB back to Pandora to catch up with my decisions (except when I’ve gotten lost in my work and lost track of what I was “hearing,” and even then if I’m familiar with the song, I render a judgment).

But I find this frustrating everyone once in a while. Most of my “likes” mean, “I don’t mind if you keep this in my mix.” But every once in a while, they play me something I really, REALLY dig.

Examples… I have a lot of stations for different kinds of music, but recently I’ve spent a lot of time defining one called “Brad’s All-Purpose Station.” In the “I don’t mind if you keep this in my mix” on that station, I’d include “After Midnight,” “Angie,” “Another One Bites the Dust,” “It’s Money That Matters,” “Long May You Run,” “Oh! Darling,” “Smoke on the Water,” and so forth.

But there are other songs that I want to make sure Pandora knows I really like a LOT more than those songs. It may be an all-time favorite, or a really good song I seldom here and don’t own a copy of, or something I’ve occasionally heard and loved but didn’t know the name of… all sorts of reasons. Into that category I’d put: “Sexy and 17,” Another Girl,” “Baby, It’s You,” “Badge,” “Adagio for Strings,” “Bring it on home to Me,” “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right,” “Gymnopedies (3),” “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart (the Al Green version!),” “I’ll Cry Instead,” “In Germany Before the War,” “I’ve Got A Woman,” “Naked Man,” “New Amsterdam,” “Simple Man,” “Werewolves of London,” and others. Oh, and on that last one: I’d much rather hear “Lawyers, Guns and Money,” or “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner,” but neither has yet been offered.

When I hear one of those, I want to say, Whoa, I’m sorry I clicked “like” on those last 10, because this is what I REALLY like! Don’t just lump this in with those… But all I can do is click again on the “like” button.

OK, so I’m frustrated that I can’t give more nuanced feedback, but here’s the perplexing thing: In spite of that, Pandora does an increasingly excellent job of guessing what I’ll like. As time goes by, I hit that “don’t like” button quite seldom.

Contrast that to Netflix, which gives me five levels of feedback, from one to five stars — and yet remains pretty much clueless as to what I’d like.

Not that I haven’t put the time in… I’m sort of embarrassed to admit this, but I’ve rated 2,144 movies on that site. I keep thinking, Give ’em more data, and they’ll figure me out. But they don’t. You give “Casablanca” five stars, and Netflix assumes, “He likes any movie that’s more than 50 years old.” Yeah, it’s probably a little more sophisticated than that — but not much.

Frustrating. But kudos to Pandora.

The latest adventures of the twins

9 Replies

The Twins as I recently found them on our beach vacation, hiding under the kitchen table, enjoying apples they had obtained by unknown means.

Since I haven’t posted anything all day, I thought I’d share something that I find especially fun — excerpts from the latest adventures of the Twins.

Here’s are two recent updates on Facebook from their mother. First, one from Tuesday:

So far today, we’ve been to the dermotologist and broken a mirror and played keep away with botox syringes (literally — they leave them lying around), collected and delivered a stool sample to pediatrician, broken off part of a mandolin and stuffed it in daddy’s laser printer which made a groan and died, attempted to …fix everything by stuffing plastic “magic wand” into mandolin, and now it is noon and we are nude.

Then, one from Thursday:

“Help me Sissa!” Sissa helps by lifting Sissa at waist, so Sissa can flip on light switch, in attempt to rouse Mommy. Followed by rousing chorus of Wonder Pets theme song: “What’s gonna work? Team work!” What a way to wake up!

I have yet to receive a report on what they’ve done today. By the way, in case you wondered — they’re two-and-a-half years old.

We have the best blood! (Or at least the best Red Cross)

2 Replies

Congratulations to our local Red Cross blood services. I just saw this release:

South Carolina Blood Services Region of the American Red Cross Ranked #1 in the Nation

Columbia, S.C.— The South Carolina Blood Services Region of the American Red Cross has been named the top performing region in the national Red Cross system. The South Carolina Region is one of 36 Red Cross Blood Services regions in the United States.

American Red Cross Blood Services regions across the country provide blood and blood products to more than 3,000 hospitals, making the Red Cross the largest single blood provider in the United States. The South Carolina Blood Services Region serves 54 hospitals in South Carolina and parts of Georgia.

The South Carolina Region was rated for high performance in areas including growth of red blood cell donations and distribution to hospitals, quality control, cost effectiveness and hospital satisfaction.

“We’re proud to be named the Red Cross Region of the Year,” said Delisa English, chief executive officer of the South Carolina Blood Services Region. “This accomplishment is only made possible by the tremendous support of our staff, volunteers, blood donors and blood drive sponsors who work hard each day to ensure blood products are available for patients in the South Carolina Region and across the nation.”

Every two seconds, someone in the United States needs blood. The American Red Cross South Carolina Blood Services Region must have 500 people give blood and platelets each weekday to meet hospital demand. Accident victims as well as patients with cancer, sickle cell disease, blood disorders and other illnesses receive lifesaving transfusions every day. There is no substitute for blood and volunteer donors are the only source.

How to Donate Blood

Simply call 1-800-RED CROSS (1-800-733-2767) or visit redcrossblood.org to make an appointment or for more information. All blood types are needed to ensure a reliable supply for patients. Blood can be safely donated every 56 days. Most healthy people age 17 and older, or 16 with parental consent, who weigh at least 110 pounds, are eligible to donate blood and platelets. Donors who are 18 and younger must also meet specific height and weight requirements.

About the American Red Cross

Governed by volunteers and supported by giving individuals and communities, the American Red Cross is the single largest supplier of blood products to hospitals throughout the United States. While local hospital needs are always met first, the Red Cross also helps ensure no patient goes without blood no matter where or when they need it. In addition to providing nearly half of the nation’s blood supply, the Red Cross provides relief to victims of disaster, trains millions in lifesaving skills, serves as a communication link between U.S. military members and their families, and assists victims of international disasters or conflicts.

# # #

First we have the national champion baseball team; now this.

Personally, I’m going to claim a measure of credit for this. No doubt the blood that I have given has contributed mightily, if only in terms of sheer quality of the blood collected here.

We still aren’t collecting enough of it, though, so get on down there and roll up a sleeve…

I gave blood again. So should you (he said with an inflated sense of his own moral superiority)

11 Replies

Yep, those are my shoes. They need polish...

Sorry about no Virtual Front Page last night. I was giving blood instead.

I did the Alyx system again, the process in which they draw out TWO pints of blood, take the red cells out of it, and put what’s left back (along with a tad of cool saline, which chills one ever so slightly on a hot day). Nice things about this: The needle is smaller (I don’t know how, since it has two channels, but it is) and therefore less uncomfortable — and you don’t get called to give again for 16 weeks, rather than the usual 8.

It was fine. I’m feeling a tad iron-poor this morning (I can sense that there are fewer things carrying oxygen to my brain, or something), but I think I did sleep a little better last night. And the iron will return.

Anyway, they’re short of all sorts of blood as always, not just my “universal donor” O positive.

So you should give, too. Be like me. ‘Cause I’m such a heckuva guy.

Irony of the day: Sarah Palin and Twisted Sister

14 Replies

Most interesting item from Twitter today… Aaron Sheinin, formerly of The State (and now of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution) tweeted this at midday:

The song Palin and Handel are coming on stage to:http://youtu.be/WT1LXhgXPWs
about 4 hours ago via TweetDeck

To explain — Sarah Palin was in Jawgia today to campaign for Karen Handel, that state’s former secretary of state, who is in a bitter runoff tomorrow for the GOP nomination for governor. (Yet another case of rather presumptuous people, such as our own Jim DeMint, jetting around the country to play right-wing kingmaker and fragment the Republican Party.)

And the two women made their entrance at the event to the strains of “We’re Not Gonna Take It.” Yes, by Twisted Sister. Yes, the self-appointed maven of true, traditional downhome American values was striding out to a theme by a band that, when I was a young Dad back when they first hit the charts, I would have leaped tall buildings in my haste to keep my children from seeing so much as a picture of, so deeply offensive to basic traditional sensibilities (such as my own) I found everything about the band — their name, their look, and (to a lesser extent) their head-banging sound — to be.

By the way, I double-checked with Aaron to make sure I wasn’t misunderstanding, and he responded:

@BradWarthen going on right this second.
about 4 hours ago via TweetDeck in reply to BradWarthen

At this point, I could digress with a discourse on how the grossly childish, hostile, chip-on-shoulder attitude embodied in that song, that whole “grownups aren’t going to tell me what to do” petulant pout, fits PERFECTLY with the worldview of the Tea Party and the other bits and pieces of ex-Gov. Palin’s fan base. Which, I’m sure, is why it was chosen.

To give you a further idea of the mentality the song embraces, another reader responded to Aaron’s observation thusly:

JVTress @asheinin You know who else used that song? The one and only John Rocker.
about 4 hours ago via TweetDeck in reply to asheinin

You know, John Rocker — the former Atlanta Braves closer who was better known for shooting off his mouth and offending people than for putting out rival hitters. You know — the guy most famous for saying this when asked whether he would ever play for the Yankees or the Mets:

I’d retire first. It’s the most hectic, nerve-racking city. Imagine having to take the 7 Train to the ballpark looking like you’re riding through Beirut next to some kid with purple hair, next to some queer with AIDS, right next to some dude who just got out of jail for the fourth time, right next to some 20-year-old mom with four kids. It’s depressing… The biggest thing I don’t like about New York are the foreigners. You can walk an entire block in Times Square and not hear anybody speaking English. Asians and Koreans and Vietnamese and Indians and Russians and Spanish people and everything up there. How the hell did they get in this country?

In other words, “a Real American.”

But bottom line, the thing that gets me is the cultural aspect of the Palin-Twisted Sister connection. You know, I have frequently called down some of my interlocutors here for making like Bristol Palin’s shame is a legitimate topic for political dissection. I don’t hold with attacking folks’ families. But it does occur to me that if mom thinks Twisted Sister is a good place to go for background music, kiddies could grow up a bit confused. (And no, it’s not that I’m square, as we said in my day. I was just into Elvis Costello and Men at Work and the like at that point in musical history. I was never into “let’s twist glam until it’s positively gross.” The closest I came to that was my deep admiration for the work of Spinal Tap.)

Anyway, I’ll say this for the video at least: I love the little homage to “Animal House” in the video, from using the actor (Mark Metcalf) who played “Doug Neidermeyer” to the paraphrase of his most famous line: “What it THAT? A Twisted Sister pin on your UNIFORM?!?!?”

That did make me smile.

bradwarthen.coffee

4 Replies

Who’d like to invest in a coffee shop in Surfside Beach that is designed purely as a place for people to take their laptops and connect via wi-fi?

There’s a real gap in the market there. And the public library that was my refuge last week has its limitations. For instance, my son-in-law, who is a economist/consultant, needed wi-fi in a place where he could simultaneously talk on the phone — so he ended up going to a Starbucks way up in Myrtle Beach. (Even there, I don’t know how welcome he was, talking into his cell phone in a public place, which suggests the need for a better place that is all ABOUT connectivity.)

OK, maybe “bradwarthen.coffee” is a goofy name for the place — maybe I should get my fellow ad wizards at ADCO to work on it — but I was thinking that it needs a name that tells people it exists for bloggers (like Tim Kelly, who also vacations there and has to go to McDonald’s of all places to get connected) and others who can’t get through their vacations without a reliable place to connect.

This is a bit of a throwback — a decade or two — to the old “Internet cafes” that existed before access was widespread. But I think that in a vacation spot like that that lacks a Starbucks or a Panera, it would have a real chance to catch on.

The money would be made from coffee and snacks, as one certain source of revenue, but they would not be the main attraction. And while my first instincts are that the wi-fi must be free, if it were inviting and accommodating enough (with amenities like LOTS of electrical outlets so you don’t have to jockey for those spaces, and maybe soundproof booths for those needing to teleconference and such) perhaps the market would bear a small fee for the access. I don’t know. This is just the beginning of an idea…

God doesn’t want me blogging this week

7 Replies

Don’t believe me? Well, here’s the evidence:

  • The place where I used to blog when I was here closed. It was a coffee shop called Jacob’s Java. Actually, it was only sorta kinda nominally a coffee shop. They didn’t care whether you bought anything. But it had free wi-fi, and you could sit there as long as you like, as there was never any danger of being in the way of actual customers. The reason this was so was that it was a front for a commercial bakery. The local building codes required that there be a retail business in that location, so they put a coffee shop in front of the bakery to cover that technicality. Anyway, after Jacob’s Java closed last year, I was driving past and saw the owner of the NEW business, a sub shop, out doing something to the facade. I asked whether he, too, would have free w-fi, and he said no.
  • Before I came down here, I contacted Tim Kelly, who I knew from Twitter had been here last week (social media is such a wonderful surveillance tool; it makes each of us into a Big Brother), to see if he’d found a replacement spot to blog. He said all he’d found was McDonald’s. Well, McDonald’s isn’t a very conducive environment, and it’s not nearly as convenient to the house anyway, and I’m mainly here to spend time with my family, not run all over creation to try to blog amid the Big Macs. So that was out.
  • My wife’s brother and sister-in-law are here with their kids, and the second night we were here the sister-in-law went on a quest for wi-fi. She thought she’d found it in a Dunkin’ Donuts the next town over, but she could never get connected.
  • Then, yesterday, my oldest daughter arrived with her little netbook that is perpetually connected via Verizon. So I sat down with that and put up the post about Vincent Sheheen slam-dunking Nikki Haley on her chosen issue, having just read the e-mails that informed me of those developments. But then my daughter told me she gets a finite amount of data per month on her account, so that option was out.
  • Then, my middle daugher informed me that last time SHE was here, the sub shop — which was formerly Jacob’s Java — DID have wi-fi. Which made perfect sense; I guess the owner wised up. So I went there midafternoon yesterday — to find that it had closed at 2.
  • My daughter said she found yet another place, although it was a restaurant where you feel funny just sitting there and not ordering a meal. But I filed that as a backup option.
  • Then today I went to the sub shop. I offered to buy coffee, but was told “We’re not a coffee shop anymore.” Yeah, I know. But she didn’t mind me using the wi-fi — though it was lunchtime, the place was deserted — so I set up. And realized I had not brought my power cord. It was back in Columbia. Fine. I would blog fast. But then my laptop had issues, and I had to reboot once or twice, and after doing all that STILL wasn’t connected. So I left in frustration.
  • But my wife had suggested something as I walked out the door today — the public library! Doh! How could I have not have thought of that? Wonderful government services are always there when the cold, heartless marketplace lets you down! So I came here to the library, and… still couldn’t connect. Then I realized what I had been too flustered to realize at the sub shop: You have to take the steps to connect to the router first. I’ve grown so accustomed to having that set up to happen automatically at the places where I usually use the laptop, I had forgotten something so basic. So now I’m up and running.
  • But my battery is running down, and it occurs to me that I might need it for something urgent. So this it it for now.

As I said, God doesn’t want me blogging this week. And I’m fine with that. I’ve spent all my time with my family, and that’s better any time.

Just ran into Nikki Haley. She looked well…

11 Replies

I ran into Nikki Haley at lunch today, at M Vista on Lady Street. She was there with Rob Godfrey and Tim Pearson of her campaign.

I think it was the first time I’d conversed with her since that time at Starbucks on Gervais shortly after the 2008 election. That day, she had a young woman in tow whom she introduced as being “with my campaign,” and I thought that was odd. The ’08 campaign was over, and it was early for a House candidate to be having meetings about the next campaign. I was probably the most shocked guy in South Carolina when it came out a month or two later than she was running for governor — it just seemed so totally unlikely that she would see herself as ready for that. It was the beginning of me seriously wondering about Nikki…

Anyway, Nikki was pleasant and charming as always when I went up to chat with her today. I don’t think Rob or Tim were all that thrilled to see me, though. They certainly didn’t smile, but then we guys don’t, do we, under such circumstances? Nikki did, but then ladies do.

We didn’t talk shop. She did the standard thing polite people do when other topics are awkward — she asked after my family. Then she asked how I was doing, and I told her that I was with ADCO and having lunch with my colleagues over there, and gave her one of my ADCO cards. She said I was probably glad not to be at the paper any more, and I thought that was perceptive of her. Or a good guess. Maybe it was just an understated slap at the paper; I don’t know. So I asked how she was holding up, and she said great, and I said something about how things had probably gotten a lot less crazy in the last few weeks, and she agreed. And then she asked me again about my family. So I began to dismiss myself, thinking I should wish her all the best but wanting to be honest, and ended up saying something totally inane like, “Well, as long as you’re enjoying yourself; that’s the thing…”

My ADCO friends thought it odd that I had gone to speak with her. Maybe they thought I was showing off, as in That Brad! He’ll just do any crazy thing! But that’s because they only know about Nikki and me through what I’ve written on the blog lately. They don’t realize that I’ve known her for years, and we’ve always had a very cordial relationship. I’ve happily endorsed her twice — in 2004 and 2008 (those were the only elections in which she had opposition), and always enjoyed chatting with her. I always had good hopes for her — before she embarked on her quest to become the new Mark Sanford and darling of the Tea Party, South Carolina’s answer to Sarah Palin. Which is deeply unfortunate.

So it was nice to see her, even though there was that slight awkwardness.

Robert Ariail’s new gig!

7 Replies

I know y’all will all join me in congratulating the Spartanburg Herald-Journal for having the good sense to hire my great friend Robert Ariail.

As Robert says, “I think the Herald-Journal is showing a lot of faith in the future of newspapers and of editorial cartooning.” Indeed. At a time when papers are jettisoning cartoonists left and right — in fact, ALL of my cartoonist friends have been laid off over the last couple of years — this is a tremendous expression of right-thinking. It shows Spartanburg understands what newspapers are about.

Unlike me, who after 35 years of newspapering have moved on to do new things, Robert never lost faith in his desire to keep doing what he does best — what he indeed does better than practically anyone else in the world.

This is very good news.

Everything conspires against me, including myself (See you next time, Joe)

9 Replies

Well, I was sort of looking forward to seeing ol’ Joe Biden again for the first time since fall 2007. He can be quite entertaining, especially when he’s talking about his old buddy Fritz Hollings. Also, I hadn’t seen Fritz in a while, and was interested to know how he was doing.

So I was glad to RSVP that I would indeed attend the dedication ceremony for Fritz’ new library, and grateful to Harris Pastides et al. for remembering to invite me. (Still am, so thanks again for including me in your plans.) Then, after I RSVPed, I put it on my calendar and put it out of my mind.

Then this morning, I had a new thought: It was Friday. I knew from memory that I had no meetings with ADCO clients. So I decided to go casual like everybody else at the office. Or casual for me, anyway. I put on some worn-out, rumple gray chinos and a sport shirt I bought several years ago for $3 at a Wal-Mart up in Pennsylvania. And a jacket from an old khaki suit. I have to wear a jacket, so I have someplace to put my stuff (wallet, keys, notebook, other junk).

And no tie. Which to me is like walking down the street naked. This is only like the second time I’ve done this since starting at ADCO.

Then at breakfast, I read that the Hollings library thing was today. OK, so I do have something to do today. Forgot that. Fine. It will give me something for the blog, maybe something good.

Then on the way out after breakfast, I saw myself in a mirror. Oh, no. I was going to have to go all the way back home and change. I looked like a seedy character from a Graham Greene novel, on acid (the strangely colored shirt being the acid part).

(At this point, you highly organized people are wondering, “Why don’t you consult your calendar every morning when you’re getting dressed, so you know how to dress ahead of time?” And you’re wondering it with that really irritating tone that highly organized people have. Well, I’ll tell you … years ago, I decided to dress in a suit and tie every day so that it didn’t matter what I had to do that day, since often things came up during the day that I couldn’t anticipate, things that weren’t on my calendar yet anyway. So I started waiting to consult my calendar when I got in. It just had not struck me, standing half asleep in the closet this morning, that deciding to do something as radical as not wearing a tie required entirely different assumptions about daily procedures. In the future, I’ll think of that.)

But I needed to get to the office and do SOME work. So I went, and feeling like I neglected the blog yesterday, I posted something quick and easy and then plunged into my e-mail and getting organized on a couple of ADCO projects. Next thing I knew, it was 11:13, with the Hollings thing starting at 12.

For a second, I thought about going as I was. That way there’d be no rush. I could walk over to the event. But then I thought, no, your invitation is at home. And this  isn’t a typical university event; you’re going to be dealing with the Secret Service, and you know what obsessives they are. They aren’t just going to say, “Oh, it’s Brad; come on in.”

So I ran home, knowing I could still be on time if unless I ran into really bad traffic.

When I’m a block from the office, I realize I don’t have my camera. Damn, damn, damn. Turn around? Try to swing back by the office to get it on my way after changing and getting the invitation? Neither. I decided I’d make do with the Blackberry. I wanted to be on time. Any other event like this, the speaking wouldn’t start until half an hour into it, but the Secret Service was involved. I had to be on time.

And at this point, I would have been. At least, I would have made it by noon — fairly easily.

So I get home, a little impatient with the traffic, but it’s OK. I’m good. I change into a good suit, white shirt, tie. No problem. And then I start looking for the invitation. It’s not on the dresser. Damn, damn, damn. It’s not on the desk in my home office. Damn, damn… I suddenly remembered: Even though I had received the invitation at home, when I had called to RSVP, I had done it from the office.

Oh, damndamndamndamndamndamn.

At this point, having turned up the thermostat in the house when I’d left that morning, I’m starting to sweat in the suit. So I jump back in the car, and rave at the traffic all the way back from the office. I’ve got the AC on me full blast, but the sweat is taking hold. I go to park in front of ADCO, and for the first time since I’ve started here, there’s a guy standing right there checking meters. So I get out my SmartCard and put 20 minutes on the thing, when I just need 20 seconds. Then I rush up the stairs, tripping on one, causing a co-worker to call out, “Are you OK?” Yeahyeahyeah, I’m fine.

The invitation is not readily at hand. I start picking up piles of paper and other junk and rifling through it, dropping every pile on the floor as I finish going through it. Of course, the invitation is at the bottom of the very last pile. I jam it into my pocket and grab my camera, long as I’m here…

Damndamndamn…

I get back in the car, head over toward campus, and as I start looking for a parking space, it’s noon. Well, I failed. By now I’m sweating like a pig in the new suit, and I’ve gone to so much trouble that I figure I’ll try to go anyway. Luckily (my first bit of luck all day), I find a space only a block away, since it’s summer. I get out, put an hour and a half on the meter, take off my coat and head for the library. Sweating like mad.

As I’m heading there, it occurs to me that I don’t know exactly where I’m supposed to go, beyond the fact that it’s the Thomas Cooper library. The new thing is on the other side of the building, so where should I approach from?

I’ll bet the invitation will tell me…

Mind you, this is the first time that I had had any reason to look at the invitation beyond the time, date and place (“Noon on Friday, July 23, 2010,” it had said). I mean, what else do you look at an invitation for, aside from dress code and how to RSVP? And sure enough, there was a card inserted into the invitation with a map on one side saying to enter through the library main entrance. Good. That I can find.

Then, on the other side of the card from the map, there was a bulleted list of information, which if I had noticed before I suppose I had thought it was information about the new collection. You know how there’s usually an insert about that sort of thing. But it wasn’t. It was a list of instructions beginning with “Please bring this ticket with you to the dedication ceremony.”

Well, I had done that, but my heart sank. I had a premonition that there were going to be other requirements, perhaps requirements that had something to do with the fact that even though I was only five minutes late to an event that I knew would involve everybody being carefully checked at the front door, meaning people would still be filing in at this point… and the front of the library was deserted…

Yep. There it was. Third bullet: “Doors open at 10:00 a.m. All attendees must be in the Thomas Cooper Library by 11:45 a.m. Please allow ample time to find parking, walk to the Thomas Cooper Library, and be processed through event screening. There will be no exceptions made to this time frame.”

So that was that. After all that, I had failed to make it. I was too hot and harried at this point even to go, “Damndamndamn” any more.

But being the world’s most persistent optimist, rather than turning back to the car, since I had already walked halfway, and since I had spent a rushed hour trying to get this far, I kept going to the door.

And was turned away by a USC security guy who explained that the doors to the event were closed and the Secret Service, as is their wont, weren’t allowing anyone else in. “No exceptions.” I saw the Secret Service guys standing there, looking around with no more crowd to deal with, and reflected from long experience that no exceptions meant no exceptions. I’ve been pushed out of the way and yelled at for standing in the wrong place by these guys often enough in my career to know that they are no respecters of persons, and there is no arguing with their procedures (which is why I was never fond of covering events that involved them, since as a reporter I always sort of assumed that boundaries were for those other, less enterprising, reporters). I lamely, foolishly, gave the guy my excuse about having to run home looking for my invitation, because at a moment like that you want people to know that you weren’t being cavalier about the time, and he was sympathetic, but…

Sheesh.

Anyway, that’s why I don’t have a report for you on Joe Biden’s visit, or on how Fritz is doing. And why I’ll have to get the sweat cleaned out of my good suit even though I didn’t even make it to the event I put it on for. And why I’m feeling the frustration of knowing that the punctual people among you, the people who have judged and harangued and lectured me all my life because I’ve always tried to do to much and put myself in these situations, will smugly judge me again for this failure. Y’all are like that.

But I tried. I tried hard. It just didn’t work out.

Sorry, Fritz — I had wanted to see you again. Sorry, Joe. Sorry, Harris, for not making it to your event. I really wanted to.

Dang.

Eat your heart out, George Costanza

7 Replies

Sorry I haven’t posted today, but I’ve been busy.

I’m just branching out into all sorts of new fields of endeavor since becoming a Mad Man and joining ADCO — exploiting latent talents I didn’t even know I had.

Here’s the latest: Hand model. Soon, you might be seeing my hand on a billboard down in the Lowcountry. That’s because we needed background art — of anonymous hands operating office equipment — for a board we were doing for a client. Karen and I ran over to the client’s showroom to shoot it earlier this week, and she shot a bunch of exposures of my hands pretending to push buttons. I shot some of her doing the same, but it was Karen’s camera (a very nice Nikon SLR) and she’ll be picking the image we use, and in my experience, when given a choice, photographers prefer their own work.

So this is my big shot. A number of years ago I pressed The State to include in a billboard campaign several boards highlighting the faces of my associates Cindi Scoppe, Warren Bolton and Claudia Brinson. I thought then that someone in Marketing (The State actually had a marketing department back then) would say, “We need one of Brad, too!” But they didn’t, drat the luck. So my colleagues got famouser and I didn’t.

But this is my big break. And I’m going to be really careful with my hands. I’m not going to mess them up the way George Costanza did his. (Yes, now I, too, have “hand,” George!)

And in a way, this kind of notoriety is sweeter than having people know your face. I won’t be pestered for autographs. I’ll be able to sit in a restaurant, for instance, undisturbed and overhear women at an adjoining table:

FIRST WOMAN: Have you seen that wonderful new office equipment ad?

SECOND WOMAN: Those hands! They’re so… so hot!

FIRST WOMAN: Yes! They make me all quivery…

… while I smile enigmatically, perusing the menu.

Just please — don’t hate me because my hands are beautiful.

Here's pointing at YOU, kid...

Cindi’s column on Lost Trust, 20 years on

24 Replies

I missed Cindi Scoppe’s column over the weekend reminiscing about Lost Trust (which broke 20 years ago Sunday) until a reader mentioned Cindi’s “shout-out” to me:

If anything happened in the next year that wasn’t related to the sting, I can’t remember it. While I dissected the ethics proposals, my editor Brad Warthen led the newsroom on a yearlong examination of how the Legislative State produced not only corruption but a hapless government that answered to no one — laying the groundwork for one of the primary focuses of our later work on this editorial board.

Pushed along by Lost Trust, Gov. Carroll Campbell and Brad’s “Power Failure” series, the Legislature voted two years later to hand a third of the government over to the governor. Lawmakers unleashed the powerful State Grand Jury to investigate political corruption cases. They passed a reporter shield law after a judge ordered me and three other reporters held in federal custody for two days for refusing to testify in a corruption trial.

It was interesting to read Cindi’s memory of that from her perspective. I had forgotten a lot of the intrigue that my reporters — particularly Cindi — had to go through to find out what was going on. But then, I was mostly experiencing it second-hand, being the desk man that I was. Cindi and the others would come in with this stuff they had garnered in encounters reminiscent of Bob Woodward’s meetings with Deep Throat in the parking garage, and we’d figure out which outrageous items were worth pursuing to try to confirm immediately and which ones to set aside. And then, how in the world to nail down the relevant ones.

For me, at the epicenter of The State‘s coverage, it was a time for keeping a couple of dozen plates spinning, and was a daily challenge to an editor managing finite resources in the midst of stories that seemed to have an infinite number of branches, each one of which was a hot story in itself.

Mind you, Lost Trust wasn’t the only government scandal breaking that summer. We had the final act of the Jim Holderman collapse, a purchasing scandal involving a major agency (I don’t even remember which one now), the head of the Highway Patrol directly personally interfering with the DUI of the head of the local FBI office, and those are just the things that I remember sitting here. There was more. Fortunately, the governmental affairs staff in those days amounted to something (I may have been slightly down from my 1988 high of 10 reporters, but not by much), but there’s only so much that even that many people can do when so much is popping at the same time — and during the time of year when things are usually quiet.

And Lost Trust itself, alone, without those other scandals, would have totally consumed us days, nights and weekends. A full 10 percent of the Legislature indicted? Heady stuff.

We were well out ahead of the competition most days, and I felt proud of my team — Cindi and the others. Then the executive editor, who was new in the job (Gil Thelen), one busy day stopped by my desk to say it was all very well and good that we were staying ahead of the story and beating everybody on it, but what about the future? What, out of all this mess, might we be able to offer readers to give them the sense that something could be done about the dysfunction of SC government? I probably stared at him like he was a lunatic for wanting me to think about anything ELSE on top of the mad juggling I was doing at the moment, but I did think about it. And the result was the Power Failure series. I spent a year on it, supervising reporters from across the newsroom in producing a 17-installment opus that explained just how SC government was designed to fail.

And as Cindi notes, the themes developed at that time resonated through my work, and hers, for my entire 15 years on the editorial board.

Burl’s tribute to Harvey Pekar

1 Reply

Burl Burlingame posted this over on his blog. It’s something he did about Harvey Pekar and “American Splendor” at about the time the movie with Paul Giamatti came out. Way back

Bet you didn’t know Burl was this multi-talented. Well, he always has been. Back in high school, he published his own underground newspaper which included his own cartoons. And you should hear him play harmonica.

Anyway, I dug the Pekar piece, and thought y’all might, too.

Getting Sirius about Alvin Greene

7 Replies

OK, it wasn’t such a surprise when NPR wanted to talk with me about SC politics. But this request took me aback a bit:

Hi Brad,
This is Dan Pashman, I produce Whatever with Alexis and Jennifer on the Martha Stewart channel on Sirius. It’s a general interest talk show, and we’d like to invite you on to talk about Alvin Greene. I’m sure you’re very familiar with his story, but the intrigue surrounding it is just starting to break through on the national level, and we’d love to get the local perspective. How did he win the primary? Is this some kind of joke? Is he really as unlikely a candidate as it seems? What are folks in the state saying about him? And are you sure this isn’t some kind of joke? We’d like to do this today at 6 pm eastern, you could do it from a land line phone and it would take about 15 minutes. The show is lighthearted and fun, we do some politics and the hosts are curious about Greene, but it’s definitely not wonky. The hosts also talk a lot about dating and celebrities, etc, so we cover a lot of ground and this interview can definitely have a fun element to it. Please let me know if you’re available.

Thanks,
Dan

Anyway, I’ll be on tomorrow (we moved it back a day) at 6, if you can listen. I can’t not having satellite radio.

By the way, Dan wrote me later to ask if I could answer his questions above so that he could prep the stars of the show. Here’s how I replied:

How did he win the primary?
No one knows. These were all factors in what happened, though:
— No one was paying attention to that race because whoever it was was expected to be a sacrificial lamb and lose to DeMint in the fall.
— The candidate expected to win, Vic Rawl, didn’t campaign all that much. He thought he had it in the bag. And indeed, if you had asked me who was going to win that, I would have said, “Vic Rawl.” Not that I cared. I assumed that Vic Rawl would be the guy to lose to DeMint in the fall, that that was that. (I’ll tell you, I did not vote on that race. I saw Rawl’s name there, and recognized it, but decided I didn’t know enough about him to vote for him — of course, I’m used to knowing more about candidates than most people, and in this case, I hadn’t even met the guy.)
— Alvin Greene’s name came first on the ballot. Never underestimate the power of that in the absence of name recognition.
— “Greene” is considered to be a “black” spelling of the name. So it’s assumed that lots of black voters, not knowing either of these guys, chose him because he sounded like the black guy.
— Bottom line, his winning makes all the sense in the world to Alvin — he ran, right? so why wouldn’t people have voted for him? — and totally blows the minds of everybody else.
Is this some kind of joke?
Not to Alvin Greene. He’s serious as a crutch.
Is he really as unlikely a candidate as it seems?
Yes.
What are folks in the state saying about him?
Democrats are saying as little as possible. Republicans are saying “Greene-Sheheen,” loudly and often. Vincent Sheheen is the Democratic nominee for governor.
And are you sure this isn’t some kind of joke?
Yep. To folks outside the state, and to Republicans inside it, it IS a joke. But not to other South Carolinians. We’ve had enough embarrassment.

Big, beautiful balloons in Blythewood

6 Replies

Should have posted these last night, but didn’t get to it until now. I was reminded when I saw the picture in the paper this morning from the Blythwood Balloons, Blues and Bar-B-Que festival Saturday evening and thought, “That’s a nice picture, but not as beautiful as the ones I took.”

Of course, mine had granddaughters in it, which is an unfair advantage.

I was a little disappointed that the balloons didn’t actually take off, slip the surly bonds and all — at least not while I was there. While I was there, they were tethered and taking folks up and down for short rides. Which was nice, but not as awe-inspiring as a bunch of hot-air balloons floating away.

And it was just the perfect night for it…

Blog readers and their kids!

11 Replies

Yesterday, as I was on my way in to lunch, someone calls “Mr. Warthen!” — which strikes me as unnecessarily formal under the circumstances, but that’s what he said — and I turn and Phillip Bush, our regular commenter here, was just getting his little boy Spencer out of the car. At least, I learned that was our Phillip when he introduced himself.

As is my custom when I first meet people I had previously known only via the blog, I immediately took their picture with the Blackberry.

As Phillip explained by e-mail when I wrote to him to double-check Spencer’s name:

Spencer and I were just coming back from his third and final day of Sprout Camp at Riverbanks Botanical Garden, where I spent much of my time running around trying to keep him from inadvertently squashing the bugs, worms, etc. we were supposed to be looking at, in his newly-3-year-old enthusiasm. But we had lots of fun.

That encounter reminded me of another recent one that I forgot to share with y’all — I ran into Michael Rodgers of “Take Down the Flag” fame at the Vincent Sheheen primary-night victory party. He had daughter Kate with him.

Now you know what these guys look like, along with Doug and Bud and Laurin and Paul DeMarco (whom we haven’t heard from in awhile) and others.

It was great meeting Michael and Phillip and Kate and Spencer…

About all that MBTI stuff…

25 Replies

The last couple of days some of us have been prattling about Myers-Briggs personality types — guessing which kinds the gubernatorial candidates are, talking about the differences amongst ourselves that make it hard for us to agree with each other, and so forth.

Kathryn suggests I post this link explaining the types, so I have. And it’s a good starting point if you find this model for thinking about cognitive differences at all helpful. I don’t know what y’all’s types are, but here’s what it says about my type, Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiver:

INTP
Seek to develop logical explanations for everything that interests them. Theoretical and abstract, interested more in ideas than in social interaction. Quiet, contained, flexible, and adaptable. Have unusual ability to focus in depth to solve problems in their area of interest. Skeptical, sometimes critical, always analytical.

That’s pretty sketchy. You can find much more in-depth analyses of all 16 types elsewhere on the Web, such as on this page about INTPs, which helps to explain why I can be such a pain in the … neck:

INTPs live in the world of theoretical possibilities. They see everything in terms of how it could be improved, or what it could be turned into. They live primarily inside their own minds, having the ability to analyze difficult problems, identify patterns, and come up with logical explanations. They seek clarity in everything, and are therefore driven to build knowledge. They are the “absent-minded professors”, who highly value intelligence and the ability to apply logic to theories to find solutions. They typically are so strongly driven to turn problems into logical explanations, that they live much of their lives within their own heads, and may not place as much importance or value on the external world. Their natural drive to turn theories into concrete understanding may turn into a feeling of personal responsibility to solve theoretical problems, and help society move towards a higher understanding.

INTPs value knowledge above all else. Their minds are constantly working to generate new theories, or to prove or disprove existing theories. They approach problems and theories with enthusiasm and skepticism, ignoring existing rules and opinions and defining their own approach to the resolution. They seek patterns and logical explanations for anything that interests them….

The INTP has no understanding or value for decisions made on the basis of personal subjectivity or feelings. They strive constantly to achieve logical conclusions to problems, and don’t understand the importance or relevance of applying subjective emotional considerations to decisions. For this reason, INTPs are usually not in-tune with how people are feeling, and are not naturally well-equiped to meet the emotional needs of others….

They are likely to express themselves in what they believe to be absolute truths. Sometimes, their well thought-out understanding of an idea is not easily understandable by others, but the INTP is not naturally likely to tailor the truth so as to explain it in an understandable way to others. The INTP may be prone to abandoning a project once they have figured it out, moving on to the next thing….

I’m especially bad about that last thing. If I’ve worked hard to figure something out, once I arrive at a conclusion, I’m ready to announce it and move on. And the more people say, “Hey, wait, I need you to explain this some more; I want more evidence to show me how you arrived at that conclusion,” I get extremely impatient. You may have noticed this happening in some of my exchanges with Doug, because he’s very much about the evidence and the facts and the figures (where I am an N, he is almost certainly an S), while by the time I express an opinion, I am SICK of all that stuff — some of which I may have studied years before.

You’ll note that INTPs also “become very excited over abstractions and theories.” Such as, for instance, Myers-Briggs. I first learned about it in the early 90s when all the editors at The State were tested, and then we shared everyone’s results and discussed them at a retreat. I found it explained a LOT about why I found some of those folks easy to work with, and some not. I was the only INTP supervisor in the newsroom at that time.

For folks of other types, this is probably beyond boring. But at Kathryn’s behest, I share it nonetheless. Hopefully, one of my next few posts will be more to your liking.