Allan Jefferys
WEEKLY NEWSPAPER COLUMNSCOLUMNS IN THE PILOT, SOUTHERN PINES, NC Every Sunday By Allan Jefferys WHAT IS A CONSERVATIVE? 1/ When the Pilot suggested I write some columns from the conservative end of the spectrum, my first thought was: Why me? Am I a conservative? The word refers to people who tend to want things to remain as they have always been with change coming slowly and gradually. That sounds fine to me until I ponder the fate of Iraq. A “surge” as proposed by the White House is merely a continuation of past policy with a slow and gradual change. Conservative? Most us think that won’t work. Maybe we need a bold, sweeping, dramatic plan. But, like the Democrats, I can’t come up with one. I only know that “cut and run” is not the answer. So I guess on this point, I don’t qualify as a conservative. Does it help that I can’t stand Hillary or John Edwards or John Kerry or Rosie O’Donnell (I haven’t made up my mind about Donald Trump.) Am I a conservative because I believe in giving a full week’s work for a paycheck? Congress should not disappear on Thursday stay home until the following Tuesday. If we hire you as a congressman or senator you should show up for work. (Hear that John Edwards?) We should accept responsibility for our mistakes. A five year sentence does not begin to compensate for strangling your wife and stuffing her body into the trunk of a car. I can’t understand why Mike Nifong has not been disbarred and tossed into the pokey. A second chance is one thing—letting someone slither through the gutter of dishonesty and foul deeds and get off scot free is unacceptable. If somebody does something that merits the death sentence, it should happen swiftly and cheaply. Forget about a dozen years of appeals. If you’re positive he did it, get on with the job. Despite the brouhaha about how Saddam Hussein was executed, he deserved it and hanging does not begin to cost what lethal injections do. Is hanging cruel and unusual? Try the guillotine. No lingering pain there. Chalk one up for conservative. Another clue: I think Ted Kennedy should have been thrown out of the senate years ago. How about using Chappaquiddick for a time table. Why are so many people amazed that young people shoot other young people? Where do young people learn right from wrong? When I was growing up, you learned at home from parents and at school from teachers quick with a ruler slap on the hand. Today? How can a sixteen year old single-parent know anything about discipline? How can a school teacher clamp down on troublemakers when the teacher knows a lawsuit waits in the wings. We have become a nation of victims with lawyers standing ready to pounce if anyone tries to teach the victim right from wrong. Are you still amazed? Barbra Streisand should shut up and sing. What is happening to our constitution—especially the Bill of Rights? Has any document been so abused? How many have twisted it to avoid telling the truth by taking the Fifth? Does anybody really believe the founding fathers thought the First Amendment gave people the right to spew obscenities into the airwaves? Does anyone really believe the filth spewed out on television and motion pictures does not influence the soft malleable youth who soak it in?? Whoopi Goldberg should shut up and act. Censorship has, of course, long been condemned by the enlightened. But, just as we need speed limits to keep our cars under control, so we need somebody with power to say WHOA! Sure, some of it goes too far. I can remember working for a radio station that refused to allow Cole Porter’s “Love For Sale” to be played because of its prostitution theme. Another banned a version of “Paradise” for dirty humming. Yes, some censorship did get ludicrous, but it still had its place. Is a conservative simply a backwards-thinking reactionary who balks at progress? Or is a conservative someone who stands firm in an attempt to stave off what sometimes seems inevitable: the decline and fall of still another democracy. Is there a definitive life-span for America? Are we doomed to follow the history of Rome and Greece and soar for a century or two before plummeting like Icarus because we strove to touch the sun? Can conservatives hold back destiny? These are questions that go right along with “Am I a conservative? At any rate, I welcome the platform the Pilot offers and accept. The Pilot is proving itself time and again to be more fair and balanced than Fox News claims to be. Oh yes, I think rap bears no resemblance to music and rappers should be banished to desert islands. Bottom line: I guess I have answered my own question. I am a conservative. —30— APPEASERS 1/ My previous column hop-scotched around things that bother us conservatives. This one zeroes in on a specific: those who believe you get more flies with honey than vinegar. I think you get more with a fly swatter. Although human nature has not changed much since Cain slew Abel, the world is still permeated with appeasers, rehabilitators and advocates of minimal or no punishment for evil deeds. This flies in the face of empirical evidence that says none of that works. Neville Chamberlain was perhaps the most famous of the appeasers. He took pride in working things out with Adolph Hitler in the late thirties. How did that work out? The answer was called World War II. So much for appeasement and the Munich Agreement. Recently, a Vermont judge decided 60 days was enough punishment for a child molester. And, of course, we have our own local example of a wrist slap for someone who strangled his wife. What ails these judges? Does the Vermont crackpot really think treatment is going to work for the molester? Can anyone cite an example of “treatment” protecting future child victims? Or don’t children have any rights? The Eighth Amendment to our Constitution prohibits “cruel and unusual punishments.” But who is to say what is cruel? My vote goes to Joe Arpaio. He’s that Arizona tough-guy sheriff who keeps prisoners in tents and makes them wear pink boxer shorts. When they complain, Joe points to soldiers in Iraq who are in even hotter tents wearing full battle gear. The sheriff’s suggestion to those prisoners who wail about their plight: “This isn’t the Ritz-Carlton. If you don’t like it, don’t come back.” Let’s send all child molesters to Joe Arpaio. Then there’s Australian Prime Minister John Howard’s caveat to Muslims living Down Under: "We want them to understand our history and our culture, the extent to which we believe in mateship and giving another person a fair go, and basically if people don't want to support and accept and adopt and teach Australian values then, they should clear off." Isn’t it time we took a lesson from the sheriff and the prime minister? Isn’t it time we stopped molly-coddling the criminals? If the Australians are big on giving people a “fair go” so are we. Emma Lazarus described our feeling perfectly when she wrote, “give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. . .” We have long opened the golden door to those tempest-tossed. And the immigrants did right by us. The Irish, the Jews, the Italians. . . people from all parts of the earth came to us and learned our language, learned our laws and contributed. They became Americans. Why now must everyone be hyphenated? Why must we teach in their language? Why must we adopt their ways? What is happening to the American dream? Must it be torn down by appeasers and super-lenient liberals? When are we going to stand up and face the judges who think 60 day sentences for horrendous crimes are okay? When are we going to demand that these judges get off the bench? Of course it will take some fancy foot-work to get rid of those klutzes. After all, most people in government will do anything to hang on to their jobs. When the nation was in its infancy, people used to volunteer to serve their fellow citizens for a while and then go back to plowing the fields of the farm. No more. Now, the perks are too great and the rewards too high to give up. That’s why they don’t put in a full week’s work. They have to go home to raise money to run and win again. And that’s why those who want integrity and decency in government have such an uphill battle. The obvious answer is to deep-six them at the polls. The last election points out the difficulty there. The trouble is all appeasing liberals have a vote. . . and they breed. So we need to educate them. Maybe blogs are the answer. I don’t have one yet, but I’m told they’re easy to build. And they are increasingly powerful. . . as is forwarded email. Our goal should be to seek people in high office who follow the Teddy Roosevelt approach of speaking softly while carrying a big stick. If you have to, use that stick. . . on law-breakers and on governments with a nuclear bomb gleam in their eyes. No more appeasement. —30— JUST THE FACTS, PLEASE(2/ Everybody seems to be jumping into the presidential race at an earlier date than usual. That’s scary, since most of us will have to sort out the candidates through what we can learn from biased media. At the risk of biting the hand that fed me for a long career, the worst bias and most influential will come from broadcasting. That is because everything that appears on radio and TV is Page One and because ratings and money count more than service to the public. It was not always so. I can recall talking to the head of ABC news many years ago when I was researching a book. He pointed out that the news division lost many thousands of dollars each year because of the need to have news bureaus all over the world and writers, correspondents, camera crews and engineers galore. News was a vital public service. Money came from Saturday cartoons. The twain did not meet even if the network had to borrow money to meet the weekly payroll. CBS at that time was the Tiffany network which also took its news seriously. CBS newsmen did not do Commentary; they preferred Analysis. They reported the news and then gave us a background of explanation so we could figure it out ourselves. Even those of us working side by side with those giants did not always know where their sympathies lay. Only in the relaxed area of a lounge or newsroom did they let the barriers down. I thought Eric Sevareid was going to take a swing at me one night when I made a crack about Adlai Stevenson. Given the size of this Norwegian, I backed down quickly. To Sevareid, Adlai Stevenson was almost a god, yet he kept his feelings to himself. To this great newsman, news was also a god. He was not alone. Edward R. Murrow, Walter Cronkite, Bill Shadel, Bill Downs, Griffing Bancroft. . . the list goes on and on and they were all heroes to those of us just beginning to get our feet wet in this business. I feel privileged to have known them and worked with them. They were mentors to us tyros. We listened to them, watched them and learned from them. They cared. Top management cared, too. Frank Stanton, Leonard Goldenson, Robert Sarnoff all listened to their own broadcasts and were quick to pick up the phone if they heard something awry. They kept us on our toes. CBS retained a Columbia professor named Cabell Greet to monitor us and gently, courteously correct our on-air goofs. I still have a memo from him offering suggestions on the proper pronunciation of Saudi Arabia. Today, no one seems to care. Within the same newscast you can hear Sody, Sowdy, Sawdy and Saoody.. Most of what I know about speaking I learned, not from school, but by listening to the radio. Don’t try that today. There seem to be no standards. All that counts is opinion and slant Again, no one seems to know or care. Why should we care? Because speaking is what broadcasters do and condoning poor speech is like Okaying a surgeon using a rusty scalpel. Doing it right comes with the territory. One of the things I deplore about our language is the iffiness of it. Spanish, Italian and even French are pretty straightforward but we all know the old saw about pronouncing GHOTI. The trick answer is FISH, using the gh from tough, the o from women and the ti from munition. It’s no wonder that so many have so much trouble with it. But, again, learning to do it right comes with the territory, even if the territory varies. I remember covering an off-Broadway opening of “Iphigenia at Aulis” during my years as a theatre critic and asking a newspaper critic if he knew how to pronounce it. “We don’t care how to pronounce it,” he replied. “All we care about is how to spell it.” That was his territory. It might not matter how today’s broadcasters pronounce things if they could stick to straightforward reporting. There is room for bias. It’s called commentary or editorial and should be identified as such. Commentary is fine—editorials are fine. But let’s keep them separate from Page One. As I said, most of us are going to need help to sort out all of these candidates, especially newcomers to the national scene. (Barack O-who?) We can’t rely on what they say (think Spin), so we have to use the media. Let’s keep the pressure on the media to keep the pressure off us. Just the facts, please. JEEEZ! You got any kids? 2/ Hanoi Jane is up to her old shenanigans again. Jane Fonda never seems to learn. Despite being vilified and accused of treason for her antics during the Vietnam war and despite half-hearted apologies made a couple of decades later, she’s back at it again—this time protesting the war in Iraq. Under the First Amendment, of course, she has the right to protest and, unlike her Vietnam actions, she has not, to date, trod the treason line. Yet. I never met Jane Fonda but did know her father. Henry Fonda was a very urbane and sophisticated man who was as home in a dinner jacket in a fancy club as anyone in New York. This, despite his portrayals of farmers and cowboys on the screen. His work in movies like The Grapes of Wrath, The Oxbow Incident, The Tin Star and My Darling Clementine remain memorable to this day. Jane Fonda’s latest escapade jolted my memory back to the Jane and Henry Fonda of the 1960s. I did several television and radio interviews with him at that time. One radio interview stands out to me because it was at the peak of his daughter’s bashing of her country. We taped the interview in his home. As we walked up the steps to his elegant town house on the east side of New York, his press agent asked me to avoid any mention of either Jane or Peter. “Come on,” I replied. “Jane was on page three of this morning’s Daily News.” “I know,” she came back. “Hank is devastated about it and feels somewhat responsible. He’d really appreciate it if you steered clear of the children.” “But. . . “ “He likes you and trusts you, “she continued. “Please.” I gave in. We talked of everything but Jane and Peter. We discussed movies and his friendship with Jimmy Stewart and his love for live theatre. I steered the conversation around to westerns. He laughed as he pointed out that, despite the fact that most of his movies were non-westerns, many people thought of him as a cowboy actor. He liked westerns, however, but admitted that it took a lot of gold to get him to climb up on a horse. He then admitted that he hated horses and thought they were out-and-out dumb. “I’ve ridden across the prairie hundreds of times,” he told me, “Scared to death about what that horse had in mind. I could have been kilt (sic).” I started to laugh and then realized he was serious. He went on to describe a scene where ten men in a saloon form a posse and stride across the street to get on ten horses and ride off. The last time he did that, he told me, it took two days for that one shot “. . . because ten horses won’t stand still long enough for ten men to get up in the saddle. They mill around and you find yourself with one foot in a stirrup just before you wind up on the ground.” In the midst of this twenty minute interview, his phone rang and he asked if I could turn off the recorder. He picked up the phone across the room and, at first, kept his voice low. Soon, however, it rose in frustration and exasperation and anger. It became obvious that he was talking with one of his children, although I never knew which one. He rejoined me and I reached for the tape recorder. Before I could start it, he held up his hand and almost shouted, “JEEEZ! You got any kids?” That was the only reference made that day to Peter and Jane Fonda. Henry Fonda frequently stated that he was not a very good father, yet his actions on that day almost forty years ago belie that statement. He obviously cared. Does Jane Fonda care? Does she care about her family or even her country? It is one thing to be against a war. We’re all against war. . . especially those of us who have been in one. But few of us are willing to jeopardize our servicemen or our nation’s honor and safety by giving aid and comfort to the enemy. I wonder if Jane Fonda, Tim Burton, Sean Penn and Susan Sarandon ever give that any thought. Aid and comfort to the enemy. According to Article III of our constitution, that constitutes treason. —30— Peer Pressure 2/ A number of years ago, a friend responded to my question about what made him quit smoking by answering, “The same thing that made me start: Peer pressure.” His remarks soon led to my quitting, too. Where health fears, hypnosis, martinis and tranquilizers had failed, my desire to be like my friends took over. Peer pressure is one of the most powerful forces we humans face. It is effective in kindergarten, high school, college, the workplace and retirement. Very few of us can dismiss it. Sometimes the pressure is for good. . . sometimes for evil but it cannot be denied. There are, of course, other pressures. Authority Pressure used to be more powerful than it is today. This one is represented by parents, teachers, bosses and government. Regrettably, fear of litigation has pushed Authority Pressure into cowardly corners. And then there is Icon Pressure or Idol Pressure. This is the pressure we get from movies, radio and TV. This may well be the strongest and most dangerous pressure on our children. This is where First Amendment abuse runs rampant. This is the pressure that calls for us to raise shields and do battle. There was a time when Clark Gable’s utterance of the word “damn” in Gone with the Wind sent tongues a wagging all over the country. Compare that to what is heard in prime time on broadcast TV every night. And cable is even worse. Two episodes of HBO’s The Sopranos were enough for me to reach for the OFF button. The show was rampant with language that would make a Marine blush and had enough garroting, adultery and treachery for the sleaziest politician. Yet this program is almost universally acclaimed. That baffles me. Having spent a decade as a critic, I claim an educated opinion that says “The Sopranos” is no more than mediocre in writing, acting and direction. I suspect its greatest claim to excellence lies in its breakdown of barriers and destruction of family values. However it is, at least, not shoveled through the transom of the children’s bedroom. Not so dozens of TV shows which appeal to prurient interest. Each year new programs strive to top (or bottom) the “pushing the envelope” shows that preceded them. These scum bag offerings are presented in prime time where they are hard to ignore. Movies, of course, are even worse. What makes this smut a crime lies in the Idol Pressure that suggests to impressionable youth that this is the way we should all behave. If the sexual scenes and language say it is okay to sleep around, why are we concerned about the wide swath of divorce and teenage pregnancy that prevails? If we see enough gore and drive-by shooting on TV and film, why are we aghast when this happens in real life? Pornography and obscenity have always been around and always will be. But there was a time when they were not dropped on our front doorstep in broad daylight. Is it hypocrisy to demand that it arrive in a brown paper wrapping? I don’t think so. Nor am I suggesting that all things be “Mary Poppins” and “Snow White,” although both of those G-rated films were big money-makers and audience pleasers. I submit two of the sexiest scenes I ever saw in a movie were Rhett Butler carrying Scarlett up those stairs and Cary Grant and Grace Kelly moving closer and closer on a couch in To Catch a Thief while fireworks on the Riviera grew bigger and bigger in the background. What was about to happen did not require much imagination on our part. It was all there, thanks to fine writing, direction and acting. Critics are immune to Icon pressure. We have seen and heard it all on stage and screen. And I confess I have written a steamy scene or two in novels. But novels must be sought out. . . either bought or borrowed. They do not arrive by suddenly materializing in front of a child. There is an organization called Parents Television Council which has made a bailing-out-the-ocean-with-a-teaspoon effort to stop this swill. I send them a little money every year because they do a good job in the face of a gutless FCC and apathetic industry. But, we have a long way to go. We owe it to our children and to future generations to reverse sick trends. This is where Letters are effective. Letters to the Editor, Letters to the heads of Broadcasting and, most important, Letters to Sponsors saying we won’t buy their products if they keep supporting garbage. Let’s stop calling this stuff “adult.” Sophomoric is a better word. Let’s put a lid on this Icon Pressure. Hit ‘em where it hurts. In the wallet. —30— BEWARE THE BLOG 2/ A couple of columns ago, I suggested that broadcasting will have the greatest influence on the presidential elections for 2008. Now, I’m not so sure. On reflection, I believe the most dangerous and most powerful influence will come from the INTERNET. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Web. When I think of what we used to go through to research a subject, I marvel at and cheer the Googles, Yahoos and Ask.coms that abound. In seconds you can find out hundreds of things about people, places, things and ideas. E-Mail may be the best thing invented since the Gene Sarazen came up with the sand wedge. Before this instant communication tool arrived on the scene we sent paper letters to each other which called for full page replies. With E-Mail, you can simply hit REPLY and add “Amen” or “You said it.” Easier for you and easier for the recipient. I also like the idea of a couple of clicks which tell my bank to pay a bunch of bills. No need for stamps or checks. Saves time and money. You can download movies, music, pictures and computer applications in nothing flat. The Internet can take the place of a dictionary or thesaurus or an encyclopedia. So what’s not to like—what’s to fear? As more and more people get hooked up to E-Mail, more and more people will open their computers to extremely persuasive bald-faced lies. This is not to say print media and radio and TV are not equipped to lie, it’s just that they tend to be more subtle lest they get caught. But anybody can start a blog . This online journal of your personal thoughts does not cost very much and is easy to create. The power of a blog lies in how easily it can be forwarded around the world. Like a chain letter, you can dream up some horrible scenario and send it out. Couch it in language that excites or incenses your readers and they’ll help by forwarding it to their friends. The next thing you know, you have created an urban legend. An urban legend is just that: a legend that sounds true but isn’t. It may have a grain of truth in it, but it is basically an underbelly jab that can hurt or even destroy a reputation. No one is immune, be he liberal or conservative. These lies can be attempts at humor or downright malicious. As campaigning heats up you can expect more and more emailed smears intended to derail a candidate or merely influence your vote. They will seem plausible. A couple of examples: A long essay supposedly aired on “60 Minutes” in which Andy Rooney explained his philosophy of life. In this diatribe, Andy comes across as a reactionary racist who states “. . . the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some governmental stooge with a bad comb-over who wants to give it away to crack addicts for squirting out babies. . .” It goes on from there. Trouble is, Andy Rooney never wrote or said those things and George Carlin had nothing to do with the bit about being a “Bad American.” Another one: the story about Lee Marvin calling Bob Keeshan (Captain Kangaroo) the bravest man he ever knew. Marvin did enlist in the Marines and saw action in the Pacific but he never saw Keeshan at Iwo Jima and Keeshan got in too late to see combat. I confess I forwarded this one. Even pure fabrications sometimes sound like they should be true. Many of these stories are inspirational, others effective in maligning your opponents, some are downright funny. But most urban legends are neither urban nor legend. They are simply lies. Like spam, they are difficult to pin down and difficult to separate from truth. So beware the blogs. And if you’d like to check out urban legends, perhaps the best place to search is a web site called www.snopes.com. Barbara and David Mikkelson (I’ve never met them) run this site, investigate, pursue and unearth the truth about much of the stuff that is forwarded around the world without any verification. They are to be commended for their zealous fact-finding. If you log on to their web site, you can have a ball wandering through all kinds of areas of myth, even if (like me) you’re embarrassed to discover you have fallen for some of these legends and forwarded them yourself. Of course you don’t have to check up. For example, if you want the REAL scoop on Hillary, you’ve come to the right place. Just give me a couple of minutes to set up my blog. —30— ONE IN 300 MILLION 3/ Now that we’ve reached a population of 300 million, it should be easy to find one person.. . just one who would make a great president. Why then, with more than two dozen running, does no one stand out? For that matter, when was the last time we voted FOR a candidate. More often than not we vote AGAINST the opponent. One problem may be our habit of zeroing in on one particular flaw. One issue takes center stage in our thinking. Abortion, Gun Control, Religion, hawk or dove—each colors our judgment. If an Obama or Biden utters one gaffe, out they go. We pounce on Giuliani’s position on guns or worry that Romney is a Mormon and make our decision. We’re paying too much attention to the small branches and not enough to the tree. You can argue that we are entitled to a tree with perfect branches. But how often do we find such a tree? Think of it! We’ve had just forty-three presidents since our country was founded. Forty-three! Yet how many of them do any of us consider to be great Americans, let alone great leaders? Gerald Ford was eulogized recently as being decent, honest, and truthful. Those qualities were hailed as unique. Does this mean that a majority of office holders treat truth lightly? Ford had no trouble with the truth. In fact he once said, “Truth is the glue that holds government together.” If we get sick in a strange city, we can look in the yellow pages and find a doctor. He may not be our choice for a permanent family physician but at least we can be sure he went to medical school and is licensed. Yet all we insist on for a president is that he be thirty-five years old and born in this country. What do we really want or need in a president? What qualifications should be mandatory? He (or she) should be honest, trustworthy, experienced in governing, moral, and endowed with leadership qualities. He should be able to communicate with us and with his counterparts around the world. He should not be quick-on-the-trigger but should not hesitate to do what is necessary to preserve and protect our nation. Admittedly, that list is oversimplified. Unfortunately, too many of us vote based on one issue. I am a life member of the NRA, yet I would not hesitate to vote for an anti-gun candidate if he excelled in all other factors. I am opposed to abortion, but I’m equally opposed to rusty coat hangers in back alleys. What about charisma? A brilliant smile is certainly a big plus. There, John Edwards wins hands (or bicuspids) down. Add to that a carefully-coiffed hairdo and Mr. Edwards is the prettiest candidate in the pack (sorry Hillary.) Regrettably, that’s as far as he goes. Edwards offers not one other redeeming quality. On the surface it would seem that a former governor or mayor is more experienced in governing than a senator. Governors are accustomed to dealing with three branches: legislative, executive and judicial. Yet a senator may be more experienced in foreign policy. Ideally, a vice-president should make a logical successor. A veep should have practice in all areas. No vice-president is running in 2008. Besides, a look back discloses few vice-presidents who became good presidents. What about religion? Or Gender? Or race? Note that the above list of qualifications does not mention anything about those attributes. Nor should they. Consider, too, those who have been presidents who fell short of the mark on morals. Yes, I know. . . some of our better presidents had more than a glop of clay around their feet. So does anyone of us dare to judge? Since most of us are not experts in predicting how well a president will treat us, why not use the standards of our doctor in a strange town? Why not demand politicians be educated in government before they are allowed to run? Why not make them pass examinations and be licensed before they announce a candidacy? And why not take money out of the equation? Too frequently, the candidate with the deepest pockets has too much of a head start. It used to be all candidates got equal time. But that created a problem when some kook you’ve never heard of got the same space afforded a John McCain. Let’s just remember we are voting for president; Paris Hilton and Britney need not apply. So it isn’t going to be easy to decide who gets our vote. One scary thought: If (heaven forfend) Hillary should become president, does that mean the Clintons will bring back the stuff they took from the White House the first time around? —30— THE LEAST COMMON DENOMINATOR 3/ One of the terrifying thoughts about a total takeover by the Far Left is the goal of equalizing everybody. Now, it’s one thing to want to give someone a boost—a leg up on life. Raising the tide to lift all boats is admirable, but that’s not what the Left does. The Left sucks the water out of the pond until all the boats wind up stuck in the mud. More and more we see evidence of dumbing down. . . lowering the standards so that striving, studying, working and achieving is frowned on. Are we an overweight nation, headed for diabetes? Don’t diet—change what we call normal weight. Are too many children threatened with being held back and forced to repeat a grade? Change the curve so everybody graduates with high honors. Yesterday’s D becomes today’s B. Are we kidding ourselves? What’s wrong with that? Admittedly, luck, timing, networking and God-given talent enter into success. But so does hard work, practice and dedication. And those attributes deserve our highest applause. If a Michael Dell can start building computers in a dormitory that turns into a huge corporation, more power to him. If a Bill Gates becomes a billionaire, cheer him on. (It would help, of course, if that blasted Windows program worked better, but that’s another column.) If we can find a talented youngster and pull him up the mountain called success, good for us. But let’s make sure we’re pulling him up—not pulling down the youngster above him. I have been given a helping hand by more people than I can count. I remember a civilian flight instructor in the old Army Air Corps who stayed with me long after he needed to. Despite my near-failing ability, he kept encouraging and guiding until I finally soloed. No matter that I barely squeaked by my first army check, my instructor was determined that I was going to be a superior pilot. While others in his class learned chandelles, lazy-8s and spins, I was relegated to simple exercises. I was convinced I was going to wash-out; he had other plans. At first, I was the worst cadet in the squadron. But at the end, I zoomed by all of them. . . all thanks to this instructor. We met in a Bakersfield, California bar after I moved from Primary to Basic and I asked him why he stuck with me. He laughed. “Now that you’ve become my best student, I can ‘fess up. I really thought you were hopeless, but I’d long had a theory that grinding away with simple stick and rudder exercises until they became second nature was a great way to turn a mediocre student into a super pilot. I had nothing to lose with you so I tried it. And it worked.” It sure did. Without him, I might not have made it. Note that he made no effort to reduce the other students down to my level. A good teacher can sometimes do wonders, but not always. Richard Rodgers was certainly one of the true giants of music. . . composing hundreds of some of the greatest songs ever written and forty Broadway musicals like Oklahoma!, Carousel, and The Sound of Music. I came to know him during my own theatre career and one day, only partly in jest, asked him if he could teach me to write a song. “Sure,” he replied. “I can teach you to write a song. But I can’t teach you to write a GOOD song.” Aye, there’s the rub. A good song by his standards was beyond my ability to write. Lower his concept of a “good” song so I could qualify and he would lower all music. Which is what I think we are doing today. Given our tendency to pretend everyone is a champion, I’m surprised we haven’t let people like me into major golf tournaments. Can’t you just see it? Here is Donald Duffer at the Masters. He gets two strokes per hole thanks to his handicap and three mulligans at the Amen corner. Excellence is tough to achieve, but it is mandatory if we are to survive as a nation. We must constantly raise the bar. . . demand the best and reward those who are the best. Help, guide and, like my old flying instructor, instill confidence where it is needed. But never, never, never accept mediocrity and call it good. If that means more discipline in schools and jobs, so be it. Until recently, we have been hailed as the greatest nation. Let us regain that acclaim. Let us banish the least common denominator. —30— OF THE PEOPLE, BY THE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE (3/ Making the internet rounds these days is a quiz that asks us to decide whether the NBA or the NFL houses members guilty of the following: 36 have been accused of spousal abuse, 7 have been arrested for fraud, 19 accused of writing bad checks, 117 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least two businesses,3 have done time for assault, 71 cannot get a credit card because of bad credit, 14 have been arrested on drug-related charges, 8 have been arrested for shoplifting, 21 are currently defendants in lawsuits and 84 have been arrested for drunk driving. All of this in the last year. So which is it? NFL or NBA. Neither. It’s the 535 members of the United States Congress. I guess a salary of more than $165,000 per year is not enough, even though a lot of other freebies and perks go with it. It’s natural, then, that a little shoplifting is called for to supplement this near poverty stipend. Before we continue, a bit of disclosure: I made a cursory search to see if the above accusations were part of a myth—urban legend. I found nothing to dispute the numbers but did not pursue it fully. No matter. We do know that malfeasance exists. We have alleged evidence close to home with mayors and state legislators accused and, in some cases, pleading guilty. We suspect others are just plain getting away with it. No wonder winning reelection is so desirable. For too many, being elected is a license to steal. And even if they are caught and dumped, fat pensions keep thick shells on the nest eggs. And don’t forget. . . the incumbent has the edge with ammunition galore to hold off invasion from newcomers. Many years ago James Madison said: "In framing a government which is to be administered by men over men, the great difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the governed, and next oblige it to control itself." Therein lies the problem. The only way to cure ethical evils is to pass laws with enough teeth to force our representatives to honor them. Who passes these laws? The legislators, themselves. Talk about foxes protecting hen houses. Oh sure, every once in a while our stalwart representatives enact chest-pumping ethics laws designed to keep us citizens from checking up on the foxes. Somehow, nothing changes. The goody bags are still within reach; the lobbyists can still get their messages across, even if it takes a little quid pro quid. The logical correction is to elect some firebrand who will rush up to Washington with saber drawn and oust these miscreants. The trouble is, as soon as our white knight gets there, he or she is tossed into a windowless garret and told to not speak until he gets some seniority. In the meantime, our constantly reelected incumbents wind up chairing committees that control things for no other reason than seniority. It is an endless circle—a study in perpetual motion of incompetence and pocket-lining. I don’t know about you but I don’t want my North Carolina congressman brushed aside by some pork barrel politician from West Virginia or Massachusetts. I have lived in and voted in New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, Maryland and Virginia. Each state is a little different and demands a representative who can pinpoint parochial problems. No state should be held hostage by a graybeard with seniority. Somehow, we must break this seniority cycle. I believe the original intent was for people to go to Washington more or less as a volunteer. It was a civic duty to take time out of your career to help run the government. When you had done your bit, you’d head home, pick up your plow and put the farm in order. No one thought of this as a lifetime career. But then the rewards were far below where they stand today. Today, the only thing that counts is getting reelected. Thomas Jefferson once said:” I think we have more machinery of government than is necessary, too many parasites living on the labor of the industrious." He should see what we have now. Why not demand that anyone running for office sign a binding pledge that, once elected, he or she will sponsor bills to eliminate seniority power, take away the power of congress to raise its own pay and pension, banish all lobbyists from personal contacts, eliminate salaries and pensions from any legislator convicted of a crime. Until we can scale back excessive government, let us at least remind it that this is a government OF the people, BY the people and FOR the people. People. Not congressmen. —30— MORE DUMBING DOWN 3/ The famous theatre restaurant Sardi’s used to have a sign over their little bar which read: “An Evening In The Theatre Is A Lifetime Of Memories.” It used to be true. I still remember fondly shows I saw when I was but a child. Today, however, I am not so sure. Has theatre started to dumb down,too? Back in the 60s New York’s Lincoln Center had a summer festival which offered twenty year-old Broadway musicals featuring stars of the original productions. Thus, you could see Ethel Merman repeat her performance in “Annie Get Your Gun” and John Raitt reprise “Carousel.” I had seen the Carousel shortly after it opened in 1945 and it had become (and remains) one of my all-time favorite shows. Therefore, it was with some trepidation that I faced seeing it again, this time as a critic. Would this be like the house you grew up in but had not seen in many years? You know how that is; the house always seems to shrink. Would Carousel shrink? Not to worry. It was every bit as superb as I remembered it and John Raitt sang, if anything, better than he did twenty years earlier. Nor was mine the only rave review. All of the critics tossed hats in the air over this gem. There was only one flaw: it was slated for a mere six week run. I wrote Richard Rodgers (who headed the festival) and begged him to move it down town—to a Broadway theatre where it could run forever. He wrote back that they would like to extend the run but Lincoln Center was booked. As for a Broadway theatre, he added, that would not work. Everyone knew that revivals never made it on Broadway. What would he think today? At least a dozen shows currently on Broadway are retreads. Has the audience changed? I doubt it. I don’t think they have any choice. There used to be some seventy brand new shows opening each year. There used to be Richard Rodgers, Jerome Kern, Cole Porter, Harold Arlen, Irving Berlin, Jule Styne and George Gershwin to write the music and Lorenz Hart, Oscar Hammerstein, Ira Gershwin, Alan Jay Lerner and Dorothy Fields to write the words. Now, they are all gone and if young replacements are waiting in the wings, they are well hidden. Also well hidden is the American musical. For decades, the musical was our domain. England could export drawing room comedy and drama but America owned the musical. No more. What is left is dumbing down. (Quick, name me two songs from any Andrew Lloyd Weber musical.) Crashing chandeliers, whirling helicopters and monumental elevators taking cats to heaven have taken over. Just as computer-generated graphics and soft porn have taken over movies, special effects have replaced creative talent in theatre. Maybe it’s an outgrowth of rock and roll concerts. Since it only takes three chords and a beat for a rock song, the sameness of it all is masked with fireworks and flashing lights. Two of the best shows I ever saw were “I Do, I Do” and “The Fantasticks” The first was a musical based on “The Fourposter.” One set, cast of two and sheer magic. The Fantasticks was almost childlike—yet it has enchanted more than one generation. Both, incidentally, were written by Harvey Schmidt and Tom Jones. No fireworks—just talent. That “lifetime of memories” began with the overture. First the house lights dimmed, then the conductor stepped into the orchestra pit, bowed to the audience, raised his baton and, in the hush that followed, gave the down beat. What a tingling moment to hear twenty-six live musicians send glorious sound into the second balcony. If you’d like to hear one of the best of all overtures, listen to “Gypsy.” Today, the overture which set the mood is dumbed down as some of the musicians are in rooms in the basement, forcing the conductor to hear them over a headset. In the balcony, a technician sits before a large audio console and mixes all sounds. Later, singers and actors wearing hidden microphones enter and mumble their lines. I’m told even the Met has succumbed to microphones. Mumbling is in. Dumbing down is in. It need not be. Some things have improved: Dancing and dancers. Dancers are far superior to those in Agnes de Mille’s day. Ice skaters are equally superb. Watch Sonja Henie (the world champion of her day) in an old movie and compare her running and spinning with the current crop of figure skaters and you’ll wonder how Sonja ever won a medal. Change is normal, dumbing down is not. Let’s encourage neophyte composers and lyricists. Let’s open the door to new George Gershwins. —30— LOCK THE DOOR BEHIND YOU (4/ Whether we moved here six months ago or (as we did) twenty years ago, we all say the same thing. “Now that I’m here, close the gates. No more people. This is Shangri-La and it’s full up. Lock the door.” We discovered the Sandhills almost thirty years ago when a colleague and I answered an ad that promised two nights at the Pinehurst Hotel, three days of meals and all the golf you care to play. Total cost for both you and your wife was $250, including airfare and limo from RDU. The catch? We had to give them an hour or so to look at some land. Fine with us, we said. We’re not going to buy. We both bought. A day after arriving here we picked out our lots and joined the Pinehurst Country Club. The following year, we each brought another couple down. See the pattern? Now we were eight. For almost ten years, this octet made at least one annual golf safari to this hallowed area, soaking up the legendary auras created by the Hogans, Sneads, Nicklauses et.al. and challenging the golf gods to do us in. Usually, the gods obliged. We learned later that during the Diamondhead and bank days, golf course maintenance consisted of little more than band aids. Everything was green on top but, beneath the surface, even the venerable Number 2 course was in disrepair. However, those of us accustomed to cow pasture golf, thought all was pristine perfection. We couldn’t wait to become permanent Tar Heelers. It took ten years but finally we were all here, determined to become scratch golfers. Okay, so that didn’t work but there were other pluses: No traffic; nothing was over eight minutes from wherever we were. The population was only 2500; Spring tip-toed into your yard a good six weeks ahead of Connecticut and winter was never onerous. What a contrast to my commute to and from New York City. My work and the hours I kept made rail commuting impossible. I wound up driving in all kinds of weather at all times of the day— a 108 miles daily round trip. At first it was fine. I’d go through the Greenwich (Conn) toll and scoot up the beautiful Merritt Parkway, seeing only a half dozen cars. However, traffic cannot abide a void. Just before we left, I recall a ride where both lanes were bumper to bumper. The impatient car inches behind me was flashing his lights, ordering me to get out of his way. I wondered how he expected me to do that—chandelle up? Like an airplane? I glanced at my speedometer. We were all doing 73 miles per hour. I vowed right then and there to stop this nonsense as soon as I could. Moving here did end that nonsense. Of course we could not keep this good fortune a secret so each year more people joined us. And, in spite of our euphoria, there were minuses. Really good restaurants were hard to come by and supermarkets tended to be unimaginative, offering little of what we were used to. Upscale shopping meant a trip to Raleigh. . . much more than eight minutes away. But the local people were friendly and even taught us some good manners. The cost of living was easy to handle, too, so we spread the word some more. Thanks to our proselytizing, some towns have quadrupled in population and traffic sometimes looks like a New York street. You no longer recognize everyone on the avenue. But it’s a good mix. Youth has integrated with a graying populace and lent excitement to the area. We have some fine restaurants, shopping is increasingly good and our right-next-door hospital is one of the best in the nation. Our golf courses are now world-renown and we have state-of-the-art Croquet courts, Lawn Bowling and superior tennis facilities. But. We now have traffic. Sometimes we get stuck at a light through two or three cycles. We’ve had to hire experts to tell us how to manage this growth. One suggestion is a roundabout. The conservative in me was initially opposed, but when you really analyze everything, it makes perfect sense. Admittedly, George Marshall Park will be changed but, looking back at pictures I took thirty years ago, I can see that it has always been changing. Knowing how marvelous a job Pinehurst Resort does in sprucing up (remember what they did with brick walks and planting during the US Opens,) I suspect it will even be even better. So welcome, newcomer. Enjoy life here as we have, but don’t brag too much about our paradise. And as soon as you’re settled in, lock the door behind you. —30— SIDE EFFECTS (4/ The recent problems caused by prescription sleeping aids should be a wake-up call for the drug industry. Apparently some people who have taken these medications have found themselves behind the wheel of a car with no recollection of how they got there. That is scary, dangerous and irresponsible. The makers of the guilty prescriptions are asleep without a prescription. It is not my call to suggest they rework the formulas for these drugs. That’s between the manufacturers and the FDA. But there is one thing they should do: Stop advertising them on television. Oh sure, they rattle off disclaimers, warning us about potential side effects, but how often do we really hear or heed those warnings. We are told to ask our doctor about such and such. But are we really asking our doctor. . . or are we pressuring him for a prescription? There was a time—not too long ago—when there were no broadcasting ads for prescription drugs, doctors, lawyers or medical procedures. Ethics was the reason given for these prohibitions. Now, it seems, those once banned ads make up the bulk of commercial interruptions. Once again, ethics is shoved aside in favor of the bottom line. As one who believes in conservative capitalism, and as a shareholder in one of the big pharmaceuticals, I should probably hail the rewards of this advertising. However, Ethics raises its accusing finger and Integrity demands to be heard. There is also the matter of good taste (no pun intended.) Some of the subject matter of these ads makes many of us squirm. Must we be bedazzled by all the intimate aches and ills of the opposite sex? Let the lady keep her bladder control difficulties to herself. Must children be bombarded with mini-soap operas about erectile dysfunction? And just how do you explain to a nine year old daughter what ED is anyway? Must we raise the curtain on all mystery? The big objection to all of this lies not in the embarrassment most of the ads create but in the dangers posed by promising panaceas that your doctor would never dare suggest. There is a risk with all medications and medical procedures. We must weigh risk versus gain and consider each very carefully. That is why prescriptions must be written by a medical professional and not just tossed to the pharmacist by us laymen. It is patently irresponsible to place us in the forefront of decision-making. This is not to suggest we be kept in the dark. Most physicians prefer educated patients. The internet makes it easy to search out virtually everything pertaining to our health and prescriptions come with documentation that explains side effects. Unfortunately, the TV commercials gloss over the negatives and lead us to think all products are safe. Even if our doctor hesitates, we assume we know better, thanks to the wisdom we think the commercials impart. For the most part, we have a superior health system in this country. Certainly most people would agree it is superior to those nations with socialized medicine. A majority of those who live in Canada or Great Britain would far prefer to be treated here where you don’t have to wait months for a test. And there is no question that we are living longer and healthier than our forefathers did. Much of that is due to improved procedures and medicines. But it is not perfect and not even as good as it could be. The proof of this lies in the number of patients who die unnecessarily in hospitals. . . in many cases because people did not take that extra step to wash their hands. And it is not perfect when pharmaceutical companies drive for the bottom line at all costs. Our health costs are rising at an alarming rate. . . far in excess of cost of living increases. Drug companies argue (with some justification) that huge profits are necessary to allow research for new medicines. But let the profits go for research. . . not for bigger ad budgets. Broadcasters and a toothless FCC must accept the blame for the irresponsibility of prescription drug advertising. Cable lacks the traditional legal restraints that major networks face so it is not totally the fault of the FCC. There is also the immense competition for audience time and sponsor revenue. Nonetheless, I remember an unspoken rule that competing products could not be heard within three minutes of each other. Recently, I counted five separate and competing automobile commercials one after another. Greed and unethical behavior are taking over. It need not be. The airwaves are owned by the public. Licenses are in the picture and ethics should be mandatory. Let us return to ethics and let us begin by banishing prescription drug commercials. —30— HAPPY TAX TIME 4/ Tax time is here and most of us have filed. Wasn’t that fun? I hope you are getting a big refund; I’m not. In fact, I had to pay them, worse luck. I am not sure why. I have gone over the forms diligently and can’t find any errors. I’m sure you did the same thing. After all, the tax code is only 16,895 pages long. The bible, in case you are interested, comes in at a little less than 1300 pages. I recall doing my taxes when we lived in Washington, D.C. I bought one of those books that tell you how to do it and wound up owing the government $87.00. A colleague recommended a particular CPA. He came up with a refund of 700 dollars. I was sure we were doing something devious and asked, “How can that be? I bought a book. Won’t I go to prison?” The CPA laughed and pointed to a wall of folders. “That’s the tax code. A bit longer than you’re paperback book, isn’t it?” He gestured toward a window and added, “As for prison, see that building? That’s where the IRS lives. I wouldn’t dare play games with that crowd.” Obviously, that tax preparer had read the tax code. But not all tax preparers do and not all can understand this bloated bunch of rules, anyway. We can do it ourselves, hire someone or use one of several software programs designed for do-it-yourself types. The problem with all of it is that every year congress changes rules. Nobody can keep up with it. A bigger problem looms: If Nancy Pelosi and her cronies get their claws on the code, she’ll be taking more of what you worked for and passing it out to those who don’t work but do vote. The logical solution is to keep Congress away from this tax code. That won’t be easy since Congress looks upon taxes as a way to gain votes, skew money sources and pay back donors. Taxes are power tools for those in power who want to remain in power. The best way to remove that power is to simplify taxes so we don’t need an ever-changing multi-thousand page document. I note that Rudy Giuliani has recently endorsed Forbes’ Flat Tax. Years ago, when I read about that I thought it was the answer. However, I am neither an economist nor an accountant and some of them have pointed out flaws in a flat tax. Recently, a friend loaned me a book called The FairTax Book by Neal Boortz and John Linder. At first, I was skeptical, but the more I read, the more sense this made. There may be pitfalls I have not discovered or flaws hidden but I have yet to find them. This FairTax abolishes the IRS, ensures Social Security and Medicare funding, enables retirees to keep their entire pension and enables workers to keep their entire paycheck. It abolishes all federal personal and corporate income taxes, gift, estate, capital gains, alternative minimum, Social Security, Medicare, and self-employment taxes and replaces them with one simple, visible, federal retail sales tax administered primarily by existing state sales tax authorities. To avoid discrimination against the poor, people will be refunded any sales tax up to the poverty level. It would thus seem to be a win-win-win approach. It would eliminate any need for off-shore tax shelters in places like the Cayman Islands. It would reduce, if not eliminate, cheating. Of course, a lot of lawyers, accountants and that vast army of the IRS would be out of work, but I’m sure we can find something for them to do. Perhaps something constructive for a change. The proposed federal retail sales tax is estimated to be 23%, which may sound like more than your current bracket. However, since the seller of goods or services will not be paying any tax, the price of these goods can be reduced far below that 23%. Most important, it will take away the power of the Congress to play cat-and-mouse games with us. Just think what we could have done with the hours spent this year alone preparing our taxes. Of course we’d have missed all that fun but. . . Sound too good to be true? Maybe it is. I can’t find anything wrong with it compared to the tangled and snarled web we crawl through every year. But maybe you can. The book is relatively inexpensive and available from local libraries. If you Google FairTax, you can unearth the full particulars of the plan. If you like it as much as I do, maybe we can stir something up. —30— LAWLESSNESS FLAUNTED (4/ What makes high profile people think they can flout the law and then flaunt it and then get away with it? More and more we see more and more prominent leaders skirting and violating ethics and laws. A couple of examples: Imus. Surely he should have known better and recognized that he was flirting with disaster. Oh sure, he was known to be a shock jock and had gotten away with slurs and slams for decades. But the issue that brought him down was clearly a case of choosing an innocent and undeserving target. (Personally, I mourn the loss of this year’s peach crop far more than I care about Imus.)District Attorney Nifong. From the beginning, this arrogant meanie was out to get the Duke Lacrosse players and, seemingly, did not care how he did it. Since the role of a DA is to seek justice as opposed to simply winning, how did he dare go as far as he did; how did he dare withhold evidence to feather his own nest? Will he be disbarred? I care more about the peach crop than I do about Nifong. Nancy Pelosi. She is to all intents and purposes guilt of violating the Logan Act. That is a felony punishable by prison. The Logan Act is a federal law that forbids unauthorized citizens from negotiating with foreign governments. It is short and to the point. It was passed in 1799 and last amended in 1994. It seems quite clear that Pelosi’s visit to Syria clearly falls under that act. Not only was she not authorized by her government to talk with President Hafez al-Assad, she was specifically requested by the president of our country not to do it. Will she be charged? The scary part of Pelosi is that she is second in line to become president of the United States. Should something happen to George Bush and Dick Cheney “Hail to The Chief” would be played at Nancy Pelosi’s entrance. It is a far easier path than Hillary faces and totally unearned. Here I part company with the peach crop. I care more about the fate of this country and, with Nancy Pelosi running loose, I worry about it. I could cite dozens more. . . like Jim Black and Paul Wolfowitz and Bill Clinton’s buddy Sandy Berger but you get the idea. Could it be the punishment doesn’t fit the crime? Martha Stewart didn’t look like prison was a big deal. A number of years ago I did an all-night radio program in New York. I avoided garages and muggers by parking right underneath a NO PARKING sign in front of the radio station. Of course, I got the occasional ticket but it was worth it. The ticket cost $5.00 which meant I could get twenty of them in a year (about the average in those days) at a cost of $100. . . much less than the cost of a garage. Then one day, the City of New York raised the price. Now, a ticket cost $25.00. I became an instant law-abiding citizen. Is there a message here? If our above mentioned miscreants and felons were sent to my favorite prison in Arizona where they would be kept in pink underwear and tents, would they treat the law so cavalierly? I know, I know. I’ve convicted them without a trial but then isn’t that what Nifong did? White collar crimes abound and country club prisons exist to give wrist slaps. What about applying the Rudy Giuliani approach: nail them for stealing hub caps and they’ll be less likely to steal the whole car the next time out. Of course the A.C.L.U. would have conniptions over that approach. Aren’t all wrongdoers victims? Why do people cheer lawbreakers and pay homage to crooks? Is it the Robin Hood syndrome? Personally, I don’t think Robin Hood gave anything to the poor. I think Robin squandered all his loot on Maid Marian. Many people think all that is needed to escape punishment is a heart-felt apology. Think of the Imuses of the world who have become experts at mea culpa. It droppeth off their lips like the gentle rain. And too often it works. . . so they do it again and get away with it again and send a message to the Paris Hiltons of this earth that anything goes if you can afford it. Sometimes no apology is even offered. For years, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton turned deaf ears to the vulgarities of hip hop. Listen ( if you can stomach it) to the average rap star and hear the same garbage that brought Imus down spewed forth in million-dollar-income-producing-lyrics filled with denigration and hate. What ever happened to Star Dust? —30— QUESTIONS BUT NO ANSWERS (4/ This is a column with lots of questions but no answers. I apologize for that but the only solution I offer is for you to come up with the answers. I have tried and failed. The horrible events at Virginia Tech pose questions that have been asked before but bear repeating. Isn’t this a perfect example for the need for gun control? It would seem so. If all guns were confiscated, no one could shoot anybody, right? Wrong. And not just because of the Second Amendment. The plain truth is that, with at least two hundred million guns parked in every nook and crevice in America, there is just no way we can ever confiscate them all. Even if we could, it is too easy to make a gun capable of killing someone. Making a precision fire arm dedicated to competitive shooting takes great skill—but making a killing weapon is easy. And, no, I’m not going to tell how to do it. Admittedly, it is not quite as easy as making a bomb. All that takes is some fertilizer and crank case oil and. . . no, I’m not going to tell you how to do that, either. If there were no gun-free zones, the Virginia Tech killer would have been brought down earlier, so why not arm everyone? Good theory. . . bad practice. More and more of today’s killers are suicidal, whether in Baghdad or Virginia. Hence, they are not going to be deterred by the threat of being shot. You have to shoot them. But, how do you know which one to shoot? And if you wait until they start shooting, it may be too late for you. If we can diagnose a mental illness, why can’t we prevent the sick person from carrying out his tragic plot? Why not separate him from the innocent people he would harm? Why not expel him from school or ban him from society? Why not lock him up? Why not cure him? Why not, indeed? Cure, of course is the ideal. Yet, so far, cures have eluded us. Freudian approaches have, at best, merely postponed inevitable misdeeds. Surgical cures work no better today than they did in the dark ages. Medication holds evil at bay but no one can force the mentally ill to take them. Expelling, banishment and locking up are forbidden by law. It would seem that “rights” prevail for all but the innocent victims. Surely someone must have noticed by now certain clues: If school officials are fearful of lawsuits, much time is going to be wasted seeking to protect flanks and rears. Discipline is meted out so sparingly that is seems it is never administered at all. Why, when lawyers lie in wait, ready to pounce and take their third of a pound of flesh, should a teacher or principal or dean step into a sticky situation? Why is it forbidden to report an errant student to his parents? Must we always wait until the horse is stolen to lock the barn door? Should the media have fallen prey to the killer’s need for notoriety? Should NBC have offered him a soap box or pulpit for his depraved ranting? Doesn’t the airing of the killer’s video play right into the hands of all copycats? Are ratings and commercial income more important than the lives of students? The horror of the Virginia Tech murders will never be forgotten but the instant reactions have now subsided. What persists is analysis. Experts and non-experts alike are weighing in daily to analyze the killer, analyze the school’s response, and analyze the analysts. What caused this massacre? What can be done to avoid a repeat? Does our persistent broadcast of every aspect of it fan burning coals that can burst into new horrific actions? Questions. In truth, many of the questions do have answers. . . some of them quite obvious. We all advocate free speech and privacy, but maybe we have gone too far. Most high school and college students are not prodigies. Most have a great deal to learn. They should be encouraged to voice their own thoughts and opinions but they must also be guided by people (parents and teachers) with far greater experience. If that means setting down tougher rules and regulations, so be it. If that means not catering to obvious psychotics, so be it. Will this mean eliminating repeats of Virginia Tech? Perhaps not, but maybe. . . just maybe it will postpone or minimize repeats. —30— SOME PEOPLE I HAVE BEEN PRIVILEGED TO KNOW (5/ One of the perks of interviewing is that you meet so many interesting people. Sometimes you only see them for an hour or two and then you both move on. Sometimes you become friends. Occasionally, you meet people you would just as soon not see again. In over two thousand interviews with subjects from a president of the United States to some of the most creative geniuses this earth has ever known, I can only count two I’d skip if given another chance: Milton Berle and Barbra Streisand. I suspect they felt the same about me. Berle and I just didn’t synch—no animosity, we just did not hook up. As for Streisand, nothing I said evoked more than a one syllable answer. Strange, because now she has adopted a Jane Fonda mouth that yammers intensely against her own country. I met her just after she finished a run in “Funny Girl.” She had a glorious voice and could still sing a song with a simplicity that moved you. This was before she adapted the overblown, contrived approach of today. Listen to her rendition of “People” (from Funny Girl) in the original cast album versus what she does with it in later recordings. Mimi Hines replaced Streisand in “Funny Girl” and sat through about a dozen performances in order to learn the role. Mimi, then still teamed with Phil Ford, was an experienced professional and thus appalled when she watched La Barbra “camp” her performance at the end of her run—as if to say, “Forget Fanny Brice. Look at me. . . Barbra. Some people paid top dollar and waited weeks to see that show. They did not get their money’s worth. Contrast that with a star who always gives a professional performance: Angela Lansbury. We met just before “Mame” opened and developed a friendship I treasured. She, Jerry Herman and Jerome Lawrence (who along with Robert Lee made up the creative team of that show) became favorite friends. It thus really hurt when I felt compelled to give an unfavorable review to their next venture: “Dear World.” That was the part of being a critic that was no fun: The longer you did it, the more people you became close to and the harder it was to be negative about their efforts. But that’s the nature of the beast and everyone understands it. I stood in awe of some others: Composers like Richard Rodgers, Harold Arlen (who gave us “Blues in the Night,” “Over the Rainbow” and so many others,) Burton Lane (of “Finian’s Rainbow” fame,) Arthur Schwartz(“Dancing in the Dark”) and lyricists like Alan Jay Lerner. Awe or not, they became friends and were easy to deal with. I thought moving here would end those meetings but some genuine celebrities turned up in the Sandhills. Tommy Hamm was one. Tommy was one of the original Mello-Larks. . . a superb singing group. We got to know each other when I directed the Sandhills Little theatre’s first musical, “Anything Goes,” and Tommy was musical director. Even though we never met in New York, we knew many of the same people. We still get together to reminisce about the show business of yesteryear. Then there is John Derr. John and I met as volunteers for the Chamber of Commerce. We had never met, either. We exchanged books we’d written and told each other old broadcasting war stories. We bump into each other in the post office from time to time and lie about our golf scores. John was honored this year by the Masters Tournament. It was long overdue because John Derr has covered the Masters since 1935. This former head of CBS Sports has broadcast 62 Masters and knows the course and most of the pros that have played it. I got a call from an astonished John a few years ago. He had just come upon an old golf broadcast featuring Ben Hogan in the early 50s. Hogan would play a round and invite everyone across the country to play against him on their own courses. The program interviewed Bing Crosby, Edward R. Murrow and picked up reports across the country. He was stunned to hear himself say, “Now for a report from the Nation’s Capital, here is Allan Jefferys.” “I don’t remember hiring you,” he barked. “Was I any good?” I asked. “Hell, no,” he replied. That is John Derr. . . right to the point. At ninety, he is still as sharp as a straight razor and a raconteur equal to the best. If you need a great speaker, with knowledge and wit, call on John Derr. You won’t regret it. Congratulations, John. You don’t need one but take a mulligan anyway. —30— HOW MUCH GOVERNMENT IS TOO MUCH GOVERNMENT (5/ Both Republicans and Democrats pretend to favor small government. The key word, here, is “pretend.” In truth, the Democrats think they know what is best for us and are determined to dole out their wisdom in the form of higher taxes and more government control of our lives. The Republicans think we can handle our own lives and are responsible for our own actions. The Democrat believes in protecting us from ourselves and is thus eager to micromanage and, when we do foolish things, to bail us out. The Republican is willing to let us paddle our own canoe…mindful that canoes tip if you’re not careful. Of course, people can get themselves into deep water with or without a canoe. People build on the water’s edge in areas known to be hurricane prone. When the big wind comes along—and blows their house down, the people want the government to step in and give them enough to do it all over again. The liberal goes along with that; the conservative says, “You did a stupid, selfish thing; you pay for it.” The taxpayer wants the government to ban building in harm’s way. Americans are a generous lot. Let a tsunami or earthquake destroy and we are quick to reach for our wallets to help. That’s as it should be. But let’s not forget that these destructive forces can also be warnings. If people don’t rebuild with earthquake-proof materials, people should not be surprised to find an increasing reluctance to repeat our generosity. On the other hand, if someone we should be able to trust seems to offer us a deal we cannot refuse and it blows up in our face, can we not feel we have been scammed? A case in point: Recently the stock market dropped precipitately on reports of sub-prime mortgage foreclosures. Yet on the same day that happened, I saw commercials offering mortgages of 125% of a home’s value. Isn’t that begging for more foreclosures? Some say that is the responsibility of the borrower. He should know that is risky. True, but where is the lender’s ethical responsibility? Would you tell a friend to dive off a bridge into the river if you know the water is only two feet deep in that part? We do need laws that protect. The government has bureaus whose job it is to monitor and police: FDA, USDA, FCC, FAA etc. How good are they? Not as good as they should be. Part of the problem lies in how nearly impossible it is to fire somebody in the government. It used to be that a civil service job offered lots of time off and other perks but not too much in pay. Now, the pay is frequently high and the perks remain. That combination can lead to boondoggling. So here’s our dilemma: How do we, who believe in accepting responsibility for our actions, take over the job of all those government agencies whose function it is to keep us free from harm? Do we know how to inspect meat? Check out new drugs? Arrange air traffic? We don’t, so we must rely on government to police these things. But who polices the police? Who keeps politics out of the picture? Who protects us from Joe’s brother-in-law who got the government job because Joe made a contribution and voted the right way? There is no easy answer. Thomas Jefferson got it right when he said, "I think we have more machinery of government than is necessary, too many parasites living on the labor of the industrious." It would thus suggest that the solution lies in dumping the Democrats since they are the guiltiest. Would that it were that simple. The truth is both parties are guilty. Perhaps we need a series of unbiased people to represent us, the taxpaying public. Ombudsmen, if you will. Of course, theoretically we have a government of checks and balances that should ferret out incompetence and fraud automatically. Regrettably, that does not always seem to be the case. What most elective officeholders put first on their agenda is hanging on to their job. Is the answer term limits? Again, maybe. But setting a term limit often means losing a really competent representative. We see that frequently in local, mostly volunteer government. A dedicated councilman or hard-working board member is dumped because her time is up. The paradox here is that the local representative is far more reachable than the federal counterpart who can hide in the cloakroom of Congress. I think what we really need is LESS. Less numbers, less power, less time in office and less access to the public cash register. —30— IS THE PENDULUM SWINGING BACK? (5/ Imus is gone; Rosie is on her way out. There are other oinkers on the verge of walking the plank. Some TV performers who always looked like they were trying unsuccessfully to grow a beard are turning up clean shaven. I have even noticed some shirt tails tucked in. Does this mean the taste pendulum has reached its nadir and is turning back? For too long it appeared like ugly was king. I don’t mean physical ugly; I mean the deliberate move to rebel and show everybody how gross, how vulgar, how crude you could be: Tank tops and cut-off jeans in theatres and restaurants, loud yelling into cell phones in libraries, using the golf course as a urinal, spewing out four-letter obscenities at the top of your lungs in public places. Welcome pendulum. The pendulum keeps us civilized. When things go too far, something comes along to check it. It’s like the slightly off-color jokes young marrieds used to tell. We giggled as each tried to top the last story-teller. Then one would go too far. Suddenly embarrassed silence. The pendulum stepped in to bring us back to decorum. When I first starting covering theatre for television, the news director insisted I wear a tuxedo. I balked and said that was okay for a big musical opening but not for the typical off-Broadway effort where you were likely to see rats scurrying up the aisle. Do you want the job? I was asked. I wore out three tuxedos and got pretty good at tying a black tie in the dark. Now, I seldom wear any kind of tie, but I do tuck in my shirt tail. We are fortunate that pendulums exist. Unions come along because management goes too far. When a play folded in East Podunk, actors were just dumped with no pay and no way to get back home to look for another job. Actors Equity was born from just such scenarios. So were other unions. The pendulum went too far. How can a conservative make such a statement? That is part of the pendulum swing. I used to belong to three unions as did one of my favorite presidents. Ronald Reagan was president of the Screen Actors Guild before he became governor and before he became president of the United States. He came into that last job with a fat amount of experience running things. Of course, unions can go too far, too. Witness problems caused by the UAW. The pendulum swings both ways. Most of the solutions for those problems come, not from the government, but from the marketplace. All of a sudden, things don’t work. Labor looks at foreign outsourcing and agrees to sit down with management. That’s the beauty of this country. If government keeps its nose out of it, we can usually sit down with each other and work things out. That’s the pendulum theory in action. Some people, of course, are forever yammering about their “rights.” And a henhouse full of lawyers eager to line their own pockets are forever encouraging them. But what about the of those who don’t wish to be offended? rights What about those who don’t want to be subjected to the cell phone screamers or the unkempt and unclean? Thank goodness for the pendulum, for nature or physics or something seems to swing things back to normalcy just as they are about to go into orbit. It doesn’t always work, of course. Just when you think your golf game can get no worse, you stare at a triple bogey. Which may be why I now play croquet. Nor are we back to what I call the golden years of quality. Those were the times when a solo artist could captivate you without any vulgarity or light shows or fireworks: Think of Tony Bennett, all by himself at the Copacabana, loosening his tie and singing just for each of us. Or so we thought. Who can forget Judy Garland at the Palace sitting on the apron and reprising “Over the Rainbow” with just a slight catch in her voice. No matter that she turned on that same catch night after night. I still remember Carol Channing at the top of those stairs prancing to the strains of “Hello Dolly” or Angela Lansbury opening a “New Window” in “Mame.” When does the pendulum swing back to talent like this? Will it ever happen? Will we finally escape from the filth of hip hop? Are we at last going to flee from the rap star? Are we once again going to walk down the path of civilization? Or am I guilty of wishful dreaming? Swing low, sweet pendulum. Carry me back. —30— SALUTE TO ONE NATION INDIVISIBLE (5/ We are approaching days of honor: Memorial Day, Flag Day and Independence Day. Monday is Memorial Day. Well, not really. Traditionally, back when it was called Decoration Day, it was honored on May 30. But that was before we looked on these holidays as excuses for three day weekends, no mail delivery and big discounts. Now, we do our best to wrap everything around the weekend. I spent most of my working career in a 24/ Memorial Day, or Decoration Day as it was first called, was originally a day of remembrance for those who had died in our nation’s service. When it was first conceived, in 1868, it honored those who died in the Civil War. Then, in 1915, a lady by the name of Moina Michael devised the idea of wearing red poppies to honor those who died in all wars. Flag Day is June 14, unless they’re planning to back that one up to stretch the weekend as well. So far, the Fourth of July is still the 4th of July. Increasingly, we are forgetting the reasons behind these “holidays”—forgetting the need to honor them. In our zeal to flaunt the First Amendment, too many are not only ignoring the sanctity of these days, they are defying them, shaming them and embracing treasonous statements. And far too many of those guilty of these statements are members of the government. It is one thing to have an honest disagreement, an honest debate or attempt to change laws. It is something else to give aid and comfort to the enemy. Somewhere along the line too many of our government members do not see the difference. Some feel that if they served in uniform, they have the right to bash our leaders and speak ill of our nation. Having served in uniform in combat, I know otherwise. All most of us knew at the time of our battles was what took place in this foxhole, this deck, this cockpit. The big problem lies in who and where the enemy is. When Memorial Day came to be, we had two oceans to protect us and you could usually tell the bad guys by the color of their hats. Today, we face an enemy that knows no border or barrier and wears no identifying uniform. He or she comes in all disguises and ages. He is not only unafraid to die; he seeks it, looking upon martyrdom as a key to Nirvana. He is also determined to destroy America and all we stand for. And he is not going to surrender or quit. Our only hope is to fight him on his turf and not on ours. Assuming our country survives, we will undoubtedly argue for generations about the wisdom of invading Iraq. Both sides of that issue have valid arguments. However, we are in it. More and more Americans are dying each year, thus qualifying to be honored on Memorial Day. This is not the time for self-serving egoists to be holding press conferences to denounce this nation. This is not only a time to honor those who gave their lives for their country, it is also the time to honor the living who day in and day out lay their lives on the line. Above all, it is not a time to shortchange our troops either on the frontlines or in our veterans’ hospitals. Memorial Day, Flag Day and Independence Day are holidays yet they are also days to be honored. At best, however, they are reminders because there is reason to celebrate this nation’s achievements and honor its people every day of the year. If that means wearing a poppy or displaying our flag, let it be done. There are some who look down on public displays of patriotism. They oppose “flag-waving.” But there is nothing wrong with taking a pro-USA stance. Perhaps Irving Berlin said it best. Berlin was an immigrant who never lost his love for his adopted nation. He gave us “White Christmas,” “Easter Parade,” and “God Bless America.” In a musical called “Mr. President” he wrote a song about patriotism. It ended like this: “If this is Flag Waving. . . Flag Waving Do You Know of a Better Flag to Wave.” —30— THE CHRISTIANS AND THE LIONS (6/ Why are we so obsessed with the Paris Hiltons of the world? Why do we care about Anna Nicole Smith or Britney Spears or any one of a dozen people of minimal talent and maximum celebrity? Probably for the same reason we watch NASCAR races. We may pretend to admire the skill and strategy of the drivers but, in truth, we are secretly hoping to be in on a fiery crash. We may be horrified when the Coliseum hosts the Christians and the lions, but we are there watching and cheering just the same. We line the streets of Paris to gawk at the doomed in the tumbrels en route to the guillotine. We encircle the gallows to witness justice carried out. Or even injustice, as the case may be. We slow down as we pass the police car with flashing lights to rubberneck the smashed cars on the side of the road. There is a word for this: Schadenfreude. It is a German word to describe taking pleasure at the discomfort of others. Does this word apply to us? Aren’t we humans compassionate—empathetic—ever ready to step in and help the helpless? Isn’t it the fault of the media that embellishes and harps on the foibles of celebrities to gain a bigger audience? Or, as the media is wont to insist, are they merely giving us what we desire? I may be in the minority but I have never cared whether Paris Hilton went to jail or not. Had I been the judge I would have sentenced her to ignominious oblivion. Get her off the tabloids and hysterical TV imitation-news programs and we’d all be better off. Andy Warhol once claimed that everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes. Well, Paris and others of her ilk have had their fifteen minutes. So it is time for them to get off the stage and go hide in a corner. If we ignore them and ignore the media that promote them maybe they will go away. Or maybe they won’t. Maybe we need something salacious to watch or read about. At least it takes our mind off a war and a divisive government determined to undermine each other’s political party. What alternatives do we have? Debates? It is difficult to stay glued to debates when nobody on either side stands out. Although I did my share of straight (or hard) news, my main beat was the entertainment world—feature stuff. In my day, such back-of-the-book activities were more tolerated than highlighted. Today it is the opposite. Virtually every so-called news program eagerly leads with gossip in their zeal to gain a bigger audience. We have always had the Walter Winchells and Louella Parsons to dig in the mud for us, but they were never considered the pinnacle of news. I confess I would have made much more money had my time been more like today, but I am not sure I would have thought it was right. My beef is not so much the gossip lead as it is the interminable milking of the subject. Imus, Rosie, Anna Nicole. . . the media never quits. Perhaps the reason is the news never quits. I remember the days of the fifteen minute television newscast, which became thirty minutes and then an hour and now twenty-four hours. How do you fill up that much time? Drag it out, milk it and sometimes even make it up. I also remember (and have commented in this column) when broadcast news was a money-losing operation but a vital part of our lives. Broadcasters made money from entertainment programs. No more. Which is why I worry about a Rupert Murdoch trying to buy the Wall Street Journal. Murdoch leans toward a hands-on tabloid approach to news. That’s fine for the New York Post but the Journal is one of the few papers left that places integrity ahead of sensationalism. Leave it alone. What we need is diversion. Why don’t we hire the Super Bowl, turn loose several prides of lions on the fifty-yard line and then toss in Paris Hilton, Rosie, Imus, Britney and a half dozen others we can all name. We’ll make a fortune. Everybody will come to watch; the news media will fall all over themselves to cover it and, if all works out, we won’t be bothered by Paris, Rosie. . . etc. anymore. On second thought, we cat lovers think that bunch is hardly fair to the lions. No, let us not use lions. Replace them with. . . .let’s see. How about tarantulas. Schadenfreude. —30— ANOTHER ACTOR FOR PRESIDENT? (6/ Former Senator and current “Law and Order” actor Fred Thompson is about to make it official and become a presidential candidate. Why does this not excite me? After all, actors are some of my favorite people. I have been one, directed some and reviewed many as a critic. Also, one of the presidents I honor most was a former actor. Why then my hesitancy to cheer Fred Thompson? I have nothing against Mr. Thompson, personally. I have never met him nor even seen him in person. I think he does a good job in the rather one-dimensional role of the D.A. in “Law and Order” and he comes across as a conservative which is another plus in my book. His gruff, old-shoe approach appeals to those of us who wince at some of the strident pseudo-eloquence of some of the other candidates. Most impressive of all is the fact that he could hold his own head-to-head with Hillary. That, in itself, should be enough for people who, like me, think she would be dangerous to our nation. But I’m still convinced that out of three hundred million people in this nation, there should be some giants willing to enter the race. What is a giant? Someone who can communicate not only with us. . . the people, but also with leaders of the world be they friends or foes. This giant should be confident but not so stubborn and ego-bound that dispute is not tolerated. The giant should come to the job with administrative experience that allows for delegating, yet he (or she) should not shy from making the big decisions alone. The giant should have a high moral character and be loyal but not foolishly loyal. I could go on. . . but then so could you. Fred Thompson is heavy on some of those attributes by skimpy on others. . . especially in experience. Ronald Reagan is too often proclaimed as an actor. He had been one, of course, and in at least two pictures (“Knute Rockne, All American”and “King Row”) a pretty good one. There is also no question that an acting background can stand you in good stead in your presidential role as a communicator. . . especially if you can find someone like Peggy Noonan to write your material. But those are not the attributes that made Reagan such a giant. He came to the job with credentials—experience in running things. Like many of us, Ronald Reagan began as a Democrat. He was a liberal who supported FDR and became president of a union: The Screen Actors Guild. This job was not only good experience in running things but it opened Reagan’s eyes to some of the Machiavellian maneuvers of liberals in Hollywood. Reagan became a Republican. More experience in running things: He served as governor of California for two terms. So when he stepped into the Oval Office he was neither a neophyte nor a poseur. He had earned the job. I have long felt that a minimum requirement for anyone running for the presidency is that he needs a track record of running things. Being governor comes to mind. However, that theory falls flat when faced with the track record of Jimmy Carter, former governor of Georgia and former president. There aren’t too many good things most of us can say about what Jimmy Carter did as president or what he has stood for since. Nonetheless, I still feel that being president of the United States demands more than on-the-job training. The most important element is that a candidate must win. It does not matter how good he or she is if your favorite gets left at the post. By my standards, Mitt Romney offers a great deal on the Republican side. He has succeeded at most things from organizing the Olympics to running Massachusetts. For a Republican to get elected governor of Ted Kennedy’s home state is something special. But. Can he win? Can he beat Hillary or Barack Obama? Obama also comes up short in experience but he does have charisma and doesn’t waste $400 on haircuts. Mike Huckabee also offers much to the nation and the Conservatives. Mike who? There’s the rub. This former governor of Arkansas has experience and speaks well but has yet to overcome the “Mike who?” problem. All of this brings us back to Fred Thompson. He may be the best knight in shining armor we can field. The big trouble is that we will again be faced with voting against instead of for. I, for one would certainly vote for Fred Thompson over any Democrat currently running. But I would not vote for him against Ronald Reagan or any of the real giants. Where are the giants? —30— YOUR FAIR SHARE (6/ One of the most overused and abused phrases in this nation is “Your fair share.” It is also downright un-American. A Rolls-Royce anecdote explains the last part. It used to be that when someone drove by in a Rolls-Royce in Russia, a comrade would thrust his fist at the car and say “Who does he thinks he us, driving a luxury car like that. He should be forced to give it up and walk like the rest of us.” Conversely, an American, witnessing the same drive by would say, “Some day, I’m going to have a car better than that.” That’s always been the American way. No matter how far down the ladder we start, there is no limit as to how far up we can go. Rags to riches; pauper to Daddy Warbucks; that’s us. None of that has anything to do with fair share. Fair share is simple: If ten of us want to do a joint project which costs a thousand dollars, we each owe a fair share of $100. That’s it. No need for an accountant or a lawyer or a liberal. $100 each. If you happen to be a billionaire and I cannot scrape up my $100, the fair share amount remains the same. If you have a good heart and advance my $100 in addition to your own, you are paying your fair share and mine. Call it charity, a loan or simply good business (assuming I have something to offer our project beyond money,) the fair share amount remains the total cost divided by the number of people participating. This subject came up recently when a friend and I were exploring the FairTax idea. He said it would never pass because there would be those who thought the wealthy would be getting a free pass. They would be paying less than their “Fair Share.” That, of course, would be an untrue but possibly vote-getting argument. And votes are the keystone to our present tax code. As long as congress has control over who pays what, politicians have power over all of us. The FairTax takes power away and simplifies how much we pay. As I said in an earlier column, it almost sounds too good to be true but I have been unable to find a chink in its armor. What does it do? It abolishes the IRS, closes all loopholes and brings fairness to taxation, ensures Social Security and Medicare funding, allows American products to compete fairly, enables retirees to keep their entire pension and enables workers to keep their entire paycheck. Who loses? Only the politicians who want to trade deductions for votes. The poor don’t lose; the rich don’t lose; the country does not lose. Will it ever pass? It is a tough sell but there are blogs, books and it is featured on talk shows. Presidential candidate and former governor of Arkansas, Mike Huckabee is in favor of it. A reader recently told me of a FairTax rally. There are a number of members of Congress in favor of it, but more oppose it—I suspect for selfish reasons. Our problem is, in too many cases we let bloat take over while we are looking the other way. The immigration problem is a perfect example. No one can come up with any reasonable way to deal with 12 to 20 million illegals. But we could have handled several thousand had we only stepped into the problem in time. Now, it would appear that only a total revision of our immigration laws can solve this. The same thing applies to our tax laws. I doubt that even the IRS knows how many convoluted pages are in the tax laws. Which brings us back to Fair Share. If we 300 million citizens are faced with a budget of 2.9 trillion the fair share for each of us comes to around ten thousand dollars. Some will escape their fair share with carefully worked out deductions. Others will pay more than they should. That’s where the unfairness and complications set in. None of this would matter under the FairTax. The only time you would pay a tax is when you spent money, yet nobody would get hurt or go broke. That cannot be right. It is too simple. I must be wrong. Somebody please set me straight. If I’m not wrong, let us work to pass the bills in congress that will make the FairTax the law of the land. Just think. You get to keep all the money you earn—all your pension—all your interest and dividends. All of it. Wow! —30— WHAT MAKES A MOVIE STAR A MOVIE STAR (6/ Some fine actors never become movie stars. Some movie stars never learn to act. A few fine actors become movie stars. One of my favorites in the latter category was the late Lee Remick. I first came to know her during the filming of “A Face in the Crowd.” She was making her debut in that movie as a baton-twirling sexy majorette. Her double, who actually did the baton twirling, was a former Miss Florida, named Sandy Wirth. Sandy and I were both on the television show “Super Circus” so we knew each other. I got a chance to do some bits in “A Face in the Crowd.” (When you see Andy Griffith chomping vitamins, I made the sound; When you see a bunch of men at a bar watching Griffith on TV, one of them says skeptically, “Uh huh.” I am the voice you hear.) I also did the commercial for Griffith’s vitamins. It was disappointing to work closely with Elia Kazan in these things and never be asked to star in a sequel to “On the Waterfront,” but that’s show business. However, it was nice to get a full day’s pay for one “Uh Huh” We broke for lunch one day and Sandy, Lee Remick and I wound up sharing a booth at one of the nearby delicatessens. I remember that Lee was friendly and down-to-earth. I don’t remember predicting that she would become a super star. But she did and zoomed up the ladder of stardom, with such memorable movies as “Days of Wine and Roses” and “Anatomy of a Murder.” As I witnessed her meteor like rise, I often thought of that lunch. When I met her again, years later, she had forgotten it. I guess I never made any more of an impression on her than I did on Kazan. Finally, she came back to Broadway as the star of “Wait Until Dark.” The part demanded that she appear to be totally blind. In my role as an entertainment editor, I sought her for an interview. In those days, I used a news film crew comprised of a cameraman, audio man and lighting man. We filmed in hotel rooms, restaurants, back stage. . . just about anywhere. Lee Remick agreed to the interview but requested that we do it in a TV studio where a director could have total control of lights and angles. Not for her was the harshness of a 16mm news camera. My boss went along with it and arranged for a TV studio. He then said to me, “Look, she’s a big movie star. Why don’t we act like we have class? Hire a limousine and pick her up.” I did just that. She had a house across Central Park from our studios, so it was not much of a trip. She was ready when I arrived at 10:30 in the morning. When we reached the TV building, I asked the limo driver to wait and ushered her in. I think everyone in the building was waiting for a glimpse of those deep blue eyes. People who worked in television were accustomed to celebrities wandering through the halls, but Lee Remick was something extra-special. The studio and crew were ready when we entered and the interview was over in less than twenty minutes. I walked her back to the car. “Can I buy you lunch?” I asked, thinking back to that “Face in a Crowd” lunch more than a decade ago. She hesitated for a moment and then replied, “I’d like to but I promised the kids I would take them to the children’s zoo. Can I get a rain check?” As I remember, it never rained from that day on. About a month later, an irate news director called me into his office and waved a bill in front of me. “What’s this highway robbery tab from Carey Cadillac?” he demanded to know. “It shouldn’t be for more than a couple of hours,” I responded. “I picked her up at 10:30 and she was back at her house before noon.” “That limo,” he growled, “Went to her house, then to the children’s zoo, Bloomingdale’s, Saks, Sardi’s, and then sat for two hours in front of the Ethel Barrymore Theatre (where Wait Until Dark was playing). The driver clocked in after midnight.” I glanced at the bill again and could not help but smile, “Well, you said it first, Ed. She’s a big movie star. And movie stars ride around in limousines, even if it’s our limo.” The news director paused then shook his head as he grinned as well. Lee Remick was a real movie star. . . one of my favorites. Regrettably, she passed away at too early an age. —30— A FOURTH OF JULY SUPREME COURT (7/ As I marched up the broad steps and stared up at the sixteen Corinthian columns I felt I was climbing toward Olympus or Valhalla. I was about to participate in the first broadcast ever to originate from the US Supreme Court building. The year was 1951 and the occasion: the 175th anniversary of Independence Day. CBS radio had scheduled a mammoth commemorative broadcast that would crisscross the nation as it picked up words from movie giants, high government officials, military leaders and the President of the United States, Harry Truman. The finale to the whole event would be a salute from the Chief Justice of the United States, Fred Vinson. Following his words, a very young, very nervous announcer would sign off the program with a long credit-filled close. I was that announcer. The show was still more than two hours away when the engineer and I arrived. We were met by a custodian eager to show off his domain. At first, we saw this marble-encrusted hall in total awe. This was more than history; this was the seat of justice. This is where the gods of law sat, discussed and settled the great issues. Which gods were they? Was Themis one of them? She was called Justice, after all. Yet that was impossible. There were no women on the Supreme Court. Nor, we three agreed, would there ever be. Neither was the building the Valhalla I first thought. No slain heroes were honored here. This was the highest court of the land. To one brought up in the Norman Rockwell age, this was the place where fairness and impartiality dwelt. This was. . . The custodian interrupted my reverie as he led the way through a foundation longer than a football field in all directions. We were shown parking under the building. We learned that you did not have to be a lawyer to be a Supreme Court justice. It was a lifetime job, paid pretty well and you did not always have to be right (consider the five to four decisions.) When we learned that you got the full summer off, this dedicated golfer decided that this was a job I would willingly do. Ten presidents have failed to nominate me, I am still waiting. At first, the engineer and I almost tiptoed through our tour. However, the casual familiarity of the custodian was contagious and we soon relaxed. We learned that each justice had the right to design his chair. Sure enough, at close examination, they were all different. We sat in each one and swiveled it around to the delight of our audience of one. The time for the broadcast drew near and brought us back to earth. Entering the office of the chief justice dispelled most of our frivolity. Awe returned. The engineer placed a microphone on the desk and another one (for me) on the short side adjacent to where the chief justice would sit. I would be less than three feet away from this former congressman, former secretary of the treasury and close friend of the President of the United States. More than a friend, Vinson was Truman’s original choice to be the next president. Fred Vinson entered his office, sat down at his desk and, after a curt acknowledgement of our existence, began to study his script. I studied him. Although he was only 61, he seemed older—more austere. His eyes had the half-closed appearance of a riverboat gambler. A roman nose sat above a wide, thin-lipped mouth. Stern was the word that popped into my head. I wondered if he ever laughed or had fun. I decided it would be better if I never had to appear before him in court. The broadcast began and we all listened quietly. Finally, it was Vinson’s turn. He acquitted himself well in an unexciting fashion and then I received the cue to sign everything off. I got through it in good shape, hoping no one could hear the slight quavering of nervousness. The Chief Justice thanked us and then the phone rang. He picked it up, listened for a moment and then with a broad grin, said, “Harry? You were great. How was I? Did I sound okay? Could you tell I was nervous?” He listened to a critique from the President of the United States and then roared with relieved laughter. This god—this highest ranking justice was human. Like the rest of us, he needed reassurance that his performance was a good one. He needed the same applause that all of us who appeared in public sought. He was human. My awe melted but my respect grew. He was human. Was it possible that all members of the Supreme Court were human? They are, aren’t they? —30— WE HAVE TO FIGHT FOR FREEDOM 7/ Ask most of us what the greatest thing is about this country and my guess is the majority will say Freedom. Our constitution proclaims it—our Bill of Rights spells it out. It is because our constitution is a living instrument that we have constantly amended it and improved it. Freedom. It is our right. The Bill Of Rights is also the most misunderstood and abused part of our constitution. People are constantly trying to twist amendments into their private, special interest. “I have my rights,” they scream. The Officer’s Guide, a book for new army officers (I don’t know if it still exists), used to talk of RHIP and RHIR. Rank has its privileges and rank has its responsibilities. It is that last one that seems to have been forgotten. Before you can demand rights, you must be willing to accept responsibilities. Rights call for much more than simply sitting on your haunches with your hand out. An example is the illegal immigrant who receives more than $30,000 annually in government benefits and pays about $9,000 in taxes. Who pays the $21,000 difference? You got it: you and I. Where did those “rights” come from? Where is the responsibility? Why are some people in Congress trying to sneak into law handouts to those who have yet to earn them? How do you earn them? First and foremost you should be a citizen. You should learn to speak our language, which happens to be English. You should be willing to serve your country. You should know its history and recognize the curbs that must be put on some of your rights. You don’t walk down crowded streets with a loaded submachine gun, despite how you might wish to interpret the Second Amendment. Nor can you abuse the First Amendment with vitriol and obscenities. (Some of us don’t like to listen to this garbage and we have our rights, too.) Earned rights are more than privileges—they are blessings. Unfortunately there are millions of people scattered across the globe whose solemn vow is to destroy us and our freedom. They are willing to die for their vow. Violence is their mantra. We are in a war with those people, whether we like it or not. It is our duty to block them before they can carry out their terrorist tactics. That is our first responsibility. We pragmatists think that sometimes that can only be achieved by lending extra power to our leaders and keeping secrets from Jihadists. Note the word “lending.” Ad hoc powers must be returned when the danger has passed. Much has been said, of late, about too much power in the hands of the White House. But this is not the first time that a gleaming sword has been laid on the desk in the Oval Office. Franklin Delano Roosevelt was given more personal power than any president before or since. During the Eisenhower administration, the secretary of state John Foster Dulles and his brother Allen (head of the CIA) usurped enough power to bend foreign nations to their will. In both cases, the media kept news of such ventures on a back burner. The loaned out power was removed and our nation survived. To be sure, we need checks and balances. But sometimes Draconian action must take precedence. Sometimes we have to fight in the same manner as the enemy. Sometimes we have to table the Marquis of Queensbury rules. Today, the press is determined to block any and all attempts to keep secrets—to enhance the rights of those who did not earn them—to open our doors to vicious people determined to harm us and to threaten the freedom we cherish. Think of it! If anybody takes us over, the first thing that will go is that constitution. Our first big loss will be Freedom. So it is imperative that we join forces to keep that freedom. It is vital that we keep bills simple enough for all of us to comprehend them and plug up the little loopholes that let sleaze operators enter little anti-American earmarks and giveaways. A line item veto would be a good start. We cannot ignore our responsibilities and our first responsibilities are to protect our nation. . . to preserve our freedom. . . to maintain the rights of our citizens. . . to keep the golden door open for legitimate immigrants. If our elected government cannot do this, elect one that will. And let that be the top priority, far above the candidate’s stand on abortion and gun control and getting us out of Iraq. Never mind his or her religion; ignore the number of marriages. Elect people who will protect our freedom. And remember, Freedom must be bi-partisan. —30— ANOTHER CHALLENGING SPORT (7/ While the US Women’s Open was exciting thousands of fans over at Pine Needles, another challenging sport was intriguing spectators at Pinehurst. This was a far lower profile event and the results were neither as profitable nor as important but, in its own way, it was a most welcome competition. I refer to Association or International Rules Croquet. The six best players in the world. . . from England, Scotland, South Africa and Australia were here to challenge the best players from North Carolina. It was not as one-sided as we expected. If our team went down to ultimate defeat, they put up a valiant fight and did win some games. Most of all they introduced croquet to people who had heretofore never given the sport a second thought. We understand that. My wife and I have been playing croquet for more than a dozen years. For eight years prior to that we used to drive a golf cart past the Pinehurst courts and glance up at those dressed-in-white players thinking: that’s the game we gave up along with badminton years ago. Then one day we accepted an invitation to try it out. We soon learned that what was being played here was a far cry from the old backyard game. This was a challenging cross between billiards and chess using mallets and one pound balls that had only one-sixteenth of an inch clearance through the wickets. No placing your foot on a ball and whacking it into the next county. That is backyard or nine-wicket croquet. What we were learning was the six-wicket American rules game. Like golf, you are in control of your own game. It is not as fast as tennis nor as strenuous as most other games which means there is no age limit to who can play. Nine year-olds can successfully challenge adults; Women can beat men (and frequently do) with no forward tees or mulligans and people can play well into their nineties. The two biggest advantages of croquet are the size of the court and time to complete a game. All that is needed for a full-size court is a flat lawn measuring 105 by 84 feet. Most games are played against an hour and twenty minute clock. The average croquet player owns his own mallet which costs about what a golf club does. However you only need one. . . not fourteen. Most clubs adhere to a dress code of all white which is neither expensive nor difficult to acquire. If this sounds like a pitch, it is. All of the croquet courts I know of in Moore County are private. What is needed is for towns to create public venues with open door policies especially for young people. Let a school develop a few teams and they will quickly hear from teams all over the country eager to compete and meet new friends. It happens with adults, too. Over the years we have come to look forward to tournaments where we can greet old friends as much as the pursuit of trophies. Will croquet conquer obesity? No. Will it turn youth into rocket scientists? No. But it will get youngsters out in the air away from the obsessions of video games. Like golfers, croquet players are honor bound to call faults on themselves. That code is a great intro to how life should be played. Most important, croquet is fun and offers a chance to share that fun with some ultra-nice people. If you or your town or school would like to get started you will find a lot of willing and able helpers eager to guide you into building a court or learning the game. A good place to start is at the website for the US Croquet Association at http:/ Admittedly, this little essay hardly qualifies as a conservative column. In fact, some of our favorite players are out-and-out liberals. But you can’t have everything and we overlook their failings. I’ll get back to the business of pointing out the foibles of the lefties right quick. In the meantime, forgive me for getting in a couple of licks about croquet. I know this is golf country, but croquet is a lot of fun and a sport worthy of any of the towns in Moore County. Give it a try. You might be pleasantly surprised. —30— POLITICS AND PARDONS (7/ It comes as no surprise that the Democrats have weighed in so heavily on President Bush’s commutation of Scooter Libby’s sentence. What does come as a surprise is that Bill Clinton had the gall to add his condemnation of the act. Picture the Oval Office. Now add Clinton and toss in Monica Lewinsky. Pretty sickening isn’t it. Let’s face it: It isn’t so much what he did as where he did it. What he did is between him and his wife. Where he did it is between him and us. Add to that a hundred forty pardons on his last day in office, including an international fugitive and you wonder why he is not skulking around back alleys avoiding public scrutiny. Not only is he not skulking, he is center stage as he supports the candidacy of his wife. He makes speeches and people pay him hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to listen to him spout off. About what? His accomplishments? I can’t think of any. Anybody can balance a budget if you cut the legs off our military. His conquests? Which bimbo shall we start with? Should Libby have been pardoned? Should he have been sentenced? Personally I never thought Martha Stewart deserved to go to jail. Here is an intelligent woman, worth millions, accused of insider trading worth a few thousand. Doesn’t add up. What about Clinton? He admitted to lying under oath and never served a day in the big house. Libby at worst is guilty of misremembering. Is he simply a scapegoat who has earned a pardon no matter what he did? Article II, Section 2 of the Constitution gives Bush (and Clinton) the right to pardon. Guilt has nothing to do with it. The big problem lies not so much with guilt or innocence as with the knee-jerk ambushing depending on who pardons whom. This is pure politics that has nothing to do with justice. It is this pure politics that is destroying our nation. It is one thing for two parties to disagree and have to compromise. It is something else when each automatically lashes out at the other with only one thing in mind: votes. Each week headlines scream about the amounts of money contributed to the candidates, leading us to wonder: Can you buy a presidency? Joe Kennedy thought you could and many think he did with his son JFK. If the Oval Office can be bought, look out for Michael Bloomberg. The current mayor of New York City has more money than all the candidates put together. However, third party candidates seldom do more than hurt other candidates. You and I have the right to vilify any or all of the candidates. But when they defame each other, they do much harm to the electing process and more harm to the country. Point out differences, if you will, but let’s drop the automatic party politics that ignores what your side does and magnifies what the other side does. George W. Bush has made more than a few mistakes but overuse of the pardon power is not one of them. . . contrary to Bill Clinton. Why then do the Democrats pounce on the Libby situation and ignore the egregious use of pardons by Clinton? The answer is votes and a hope of encouraging more donations. What does any of this have to do with the qualifications of Hillary? Let’s not get into her record. . . especially with sweetheart financial shenanigans with commodities or Whitewater. As has been pointed out time and again, there is no truly outstanding candidate for the presidency on either side. And (Michael Bloomberg, Fred Thompson and Newt Gingrich notwithstanding) none waiting in the wings. This continues to puzzle me since being president is not all that bad a job and when you’re finished, you can walk away with millions of dollars selling books and making speeches. (Do you really think Bill Clinton could have sold more than a few dozen books based solely on literary content?) Issues, of course, are of paramount importance. But where is the issue connected with finger pointing accusations against Fred Thompson because he is married to a “trophy wife.” Does this tell us how he feels about health care and the war in Iraq? People make a big deal out of abortion and gun control. I happen to oppose laws against both—not out of a moral conviction but because such laws just won't work. Under prohibition, bad booze killed a bunch of people and we still had the same quota of drunks. We have strong laws against drugs and hundreds of thousands of addicts. So let’s concentrate on the real issues and stop the ambush tactics. . . on both sides. —30— WHAT QUALITIES MAKE YOU A STAR? (7/ One of my favorite theatre critics was the late Richard Watts, Jr. He had been a critic for the New York Herald Tribune and then, when that venerable paper folded, moved to the New York Post. He once told me that it was amazing how similar our approach was in judging straight plays. We frequently used the same pegs, singled out the same small-part actors for praise and came to the same conclusions as to the worth of the production. After I quit covering theatre, it made it easy to decide which show to see. All I had to do was read Watts’ review to know whether I would like the play. We parted company, however, when we critiqued a musical. On those occasions you’d swear we were not only in different theatres but in different cities. Admittedly we still spotted the same pretty girl in the chorus but that eye-candy had little to do with the merits of the show. Musicals were, after all chock-full of pretty girls. Maybe I was easier on musicals. I did like most of them. In my day, critics never discussed the show they were reviewing. It was an unwritten rule honored by all. I suspect the reason was that you had to make judgments in a hurry and did not want to be swayed, so you talked about last week’s show or the weather or whatever. One Broadway opening night, Dick Watts and I were standing on the sidewalk during an intermission, when a very pretty girl approached. She was a well-known leading lady in musicals, although she was more often a replacement than a creator of a role. The three of us chatted for a couple of minutes and then she left to greet other friends. Dick watched her as she walked away and then turned to me. “A very pretty girl,” he said. I agreed. “Lovely singing voice,” he added. I agreed with that as well. “Good actress.” No argument from me. “And,” he summed up, “A really nice person.” Again I concurred. He frowned slightly as he then said, “Yet when she walks out on that stage, absolutely nothing happens.” That statement stopped me. I thought about it and slowly nodded. It was true. She had much skill—much talent but lacked that special extra that brings an audience to its feet cheering. Something was just not there. (I am deliberately not mentioning her name because she was too nice to deserve faint praise.) Contrast her with three now departed stars. Mary Martin created starring roles in “South Pacific,” “The Sound of Music,” and “Peter Pan” among many other shows. Ethel Merman became an overnight sensation in “Girl Crazy” when she was just 22 years old and never looked back as she went on to victory in “Anything Goes,” “Annie Get Your Gun,” “Gypsy” and a host of others. Helen Hayes was the first lady of the theatre for more than sixty years. I have interviewed all three. They were nice, unassuming and had no diva qualities but they were far from raving beauties. There were better singers than Merman or Martin and Helen Hayes did not sing at all. Yet, when they walked out of the stage, it was though they were surrounded by St. Elmo’s fire. A tingle raced up your spine before they uttered a line. You were instantly aware that you were in the presence of greatness. Why? What magic did they possess that brought you to the edge of your seat? Charisma is a good answer. Charisma, that spiritual gift that touches some people and avoids others for no apparent reason. We’ve all seen it. . . even off the stage. Someone special walks into a crowded room and everyone is drawn to that person. Others, with more talent or with something better to say are left in the background. It isn’t fair, you protest. You are right. But it is a fact of life. People with strong ability will usually get a chance to use it. (Witness our leading lady above.)But the Mary Martins, Ethel Mermans and Helen Hayes of yesteryear will get the headlines. Today, think of Tom Cruise (who acts with his teeth) or Paris Hilton (who can’t act at all.) In some ways this does not matter. Who cares whose name is above the title in a movie or a play or a TV show? Personally, they have little effect on our lives. However, when this charisma blinds us to their lack of qualifications in jobs that do affect us (like president of the United States), then it’s time to take a second look. Barack Obama has more charisma than John McCain; John Edwards has a great smile and haircut. But look beneath the surface. At all candidates. —30— STRAIGHTEN OUT THE FIRST AMENDMENT (8/ The University of Colorado finally got enough courage to dump Ward Churchill. It was not easy and it took more than a couple of years. Ward Churchill is the foul-mouthed creep who called the 9-11 attacks chickens coming home to roost and referred to those who died as “little Eichmanns.” This rotten excuse for a human being pretended to be a Native American. It turns out the claim was pure fraud. Before the lie was brought to light, he swaggered around with a headband and played the role of a tough guy. When questioned about anything he would snarl, “Get out of my face.” This is a tenured college professor? Now, this pseudo macho is crawling behind the skirts of the ACLU and suing the college for violation of his First Amendment rights. The scary part of this suit is that he may win. Justice may be blind but it is not always fair. Part of the problem lies in the vagueness of this First Amendment. Like so many parts of the Constitution, it is not very long. That, alone, opens the door to wide interpretation and, depending on the makeup of the Supreme Court when the issue comes up, gives an opportunity for the Churchills of society to win some—lose some. This time, he may get slapped down for using the term “little Eichmanns,” next time he broadens it to “little Nazis” and gets away with it. Is this what our founding fathers had in mind when they wrote it back in 1791? I seriously doubt it. The First Amendment was designed to protect us from being run over by an unscrupulous government. Let us examine it: Here, in its entirety, is what the First Amendment says: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” That is it; that is the whole thing. So where does the ACLU find cause for suit? Certainly not in the religion part or the right to assemble. No, the only place they can look is that ambiguous “abridging the freedom of speech” phrase. But, even here, there are restrictions on what constitutes freedom of speech. (You can’t yell “fire” in a crowded theatre, for example.) There is nothing in that phrase to okay calling dying Americans “little Eichmanns” But the vulgarians have abused that phrase to permit just about anything, including websites dedicated to child pornography. Nor can it be argued that it is incumbent upon college professors to open doors to dissension and discussion. Ward Churchill is no Socrates. Ward Churchill is simply a hate monger. If, as I am sure we all agree, opening the door to hate is not what the founding fathers intended, why not change the amendment so it states what they really mean? Why not amend the amendment? That is not easy. To amend the constitution takes years. First a bill has to be proposed and then pass both houses of Congress by a two-thirds majority. That, in itself, could take years as the parties squabble about language and who gets credit. If we leap that hurdle, each state gets a crack at it and it takes three-quarters of them to get it to happen. Still, it seems to me to be a worthwhile venture. Watching the continued and increasing abuses of this amendment demands that something be done before the obscene rabble take over. The obvious and most important elements of the First Amendment are the ones that keep government from declaring that such and such a religion is the only one approved by this country; and giving the press and the public the right to declare that our leaders are bad guys without fear of retaliation. This is what makes our nation great and avoids intransigent dictators from usurping control. Nowhere is there any excuse in this amendment for the likes of Ward Churchill or any of his ilk. Most people do not cite the Ninth Amendment. This is the one that says “The enumeration in the Constitution of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.” Isn’t it interesting how short these things are? Not being a Supreme Court Justice, means I am not qualified to interpret the Ninth amendment but I’ll take a crack at it anyway. It is my contention that we who cannot stomach the Ward Churchills of the world and would just as soon hang child pornographers have our rights, too. And our rights say we should not have to put up with cowards who hide behind the ambiguous phrase in the First Amendment. —30— ’TAIN’T FUNNY, MCGEE ((8/ Too many columnists try to be funny; they reach for satire and come up with smart-alecky sarcasm. That doesn’t work or as Molly McGee used to tell her husband, Fibber in the old radio series “Fibber McGee and Molly, “ ‘T’ain’t funny McGee.” Humor is not easy. Admittedly, most of us have different approaches to what we think of as funny. To some, the drunk with a lampshade on his head is hilarious. Or at least he is when we are young. In time, we outgrow it. Two of the funniest men in my time were Jack Benny and Bob Hope. They were also two of the most serious men I have ever known. I only met Jack Benny once. He made no effort to be funny but was most concerned with a suit he had just bought. We had no sooner met than he stood up and asked me if the cuffs were too long. Bob Hope was just as serious. We had a link in that he was a neighbor of Jim Jefferys, a cousin of mine who had founded Hollywood’s Lakeside Country Club where Hope and Bing Crosby played. Each time we met, Bob was friendly and easy to interview, but he was never funny. Nor did he try to be. Being funny was reserved for performances. Perhaps the most graphic example of the seriousness of comedy was brought home to me on the night “Plaza Suite” opened. It was written by Neil Simon, directed by Mike Nichols and starred George C. Scott and Maureen Stapleton. I had, like every other critic, found myself rolling in the aisle at two preceding Neil Simon comedies: “Barefoot in the Park” and “The Odd Couple” without really knowing why they were so funny. “Plaza Suite” opened my eyes. It had what I came to think of as one of my favorite lines. Maureen Stapleton is berating George C. Scott as she reminds him of all his successes. He has been a winner in business, social activities, family and health. What more, she wants to know, can you want. Scott’s response: “I want to do it all over again.” Don’t we all. . . if for no other reason than to do it right, this time. When I finished my review, I went back to the opening night party to film some interviews. Talking with the author, director and the two stars, I quoted that line with admiration and then said, “ I just figured it out. Neil Simon’s plays are not filled with funny lines. . . they are honest and dead serious. Comedy is serious.” Mike Nichols roared with laughter. “Congratulations. We all had to learn that. It just took you a little longer.” Today, some of Neil Simon’s plays might seem a bit dated. That’s because the era of which and in which he wrote are dated. At the time, the plot, the action and the lines were dead on. His forte lay in finding the humor in serious things. Since comedies don’t cost as much to produce as musicals and stand a better chance of success than deep drama, producers were always trying to find a hit comedy. Each year somebody would put on a comedy based on funny lines stolen from the counterman at the Stage Deli or the Carnegie Deli or the Sixth Avenue Deli. You’d be waiting for your Reuben sandwich and laughing at the counterman’s one-liners. Convinced you had a winner, you would put on a play. . . usually starring Sam Levene. They never worked. They were not honest. Satire was also a loser. To paraphrase a quote I cannot locate, Satire is what closes on Tuesday in Philadelphia. Satire seems easy. You ridicule something or someone. Anyone can do it. Satire is what most beginners try as they stub their toe. Satire is a very serious form that takes a perspicacity that most of us don’t have. Satire should be the last choice for comedy. Regrettably it is more often the first. This is particularly true of those who tackle political commentary. Ridicule is the most common route for those trying to push the opposition down to the size of a gnat. But isn’t political commentary also designed to sway? Are we not trying to convince the other side to switch to our side? And isn’t quietly pointing out the errors of those running the best way to do that? If we’re going to win the battle of wits, we have to remember that ridicule and sarcasm are negative persuaders. You may get a chuckle or two with such weapons but you will more often give the other guy the last laugh. And that’s how you lose the war. Besides, ‘T Ain’t funny. —30— PUT THE BLAME ON MAME, BOYS (8/ What is the most important thing to be done following a tragedy like the Minneapolis bridge disaster or the Utah mine collapse? Spin. Point fingers. Throw up your hands and say, “It isn’t my fault.” Put the blame on Mame or George or anybody but you. Avoid litigation. Defend yourself against potential lawsuits. Maybe you are not to blame. Maybe the government is. All government—Local, State and Federal. Government tiptoes around safety and avoids repairs unless metal fatigue and imminent failure hits the headlines. Ostensibly, this is to save money which is a worthwhile cause unless it is done at the expense of the public’s safety. Why are we saving this money? For earmarked waste such as 320 million dollars for a bridge from Ketchikan, Alaska (pop. 8900) to the island of Gravina (pop 50)? Or perhaps pork barrel projects like a million plus dollars to study the breeding habits of the woodchuck, or a million to study why people don’t ride bikes to work,or 2 million to construct an ancient Hawaiian canoe, or one million to preserve a sewer in Trenton, N.J. as a historic monument. Why do these projects get off the ground? You know the answer to that: votes. If you’re in Congress and can find a way to please your constituents with somebody else’s money, you’ll be a hero and get reelected. One of the best ways to do that is called logrolling. I trade my vote for your project for your vote for mine. Each of us gets unneeded goodies while roads and bridges go into disrepair. How can we avoid all of this? A line item veto is a good start. Instead of forcing the president to sign a bill full of pork to get necessary money to run the government, he could cherry-pick the earmarked vote-getting slush and veto that and then sign a legitimate bill. How do we get line item veto? Congress has to pass the law. Why don’t they do it? What and get rid of their personal little vote-getting perks. Increasingly it becomes evident that the only way we can get government to recognize that they work for us instead of the other way around is to remove the power. That is the real beauty of the FairTax. The country gets enough revenue to run it but Congress cannot play games with it. (Is it true that Nancy Pelosi plans to tax 100% of all capital gains as forwarded email suggests?) She could not do that under FairTax. Because we are a republic as opposed to a democracy, we have little to say in the operation of government. We elect people to represent us and make the decisions. The trouble is that those decisions encompass too many things that benefit them and hurt us. Only Congress can determine salaries and pensions and benefits for its members and how much to tax us and. . . and. . . and. Our only recourse is to vote them out of office. But that chance occurs only once in six years for a senator and once in two for a congressman. Even then we have solved nothing if the person we put into the job turns out to be cut from the same cloth as the one we booted. He or she may walk up the steps to the Hill full of righteous indignation and a desire to do good but the first thing he meets is a committee telling him how to vote, when to vote and when to keep quiet. Who is on that committee? His fellow congressmen. How can we end this perpetual Catch 22 scenario? Remove the power from government people and lobbyists. How do we do that? I have a suggestion. Before anyone is allowed to run for office, he or she must sign a binding contract which demands that our office-seeker agrees that, if elected, he will vote for a line item veto, avoid log-rolling and earmarking, hire a non-partisan outside body to supervise congressional pay, pension and perks, and vote for a FairTax. Oh yes, and insist that all lobbyists be moved to a corral in Montana. If a congressman wants to talk to a lobbyist, he has to do so in front of big cameras. The most important element is that the contract be BINDING. No loopholes permitted. If a potential office-seeker does not like it, then we refuse to vote for him. If he breaks the contract, he agrees to resign or face legal action. If this sounds draconian, they brought it on themselves. Let us cut the waste and pork and fix the infrastructure. Above all, let’s have no more spin or finger pointing. Let “Put the Blame on Mame” be no more than a well-remembered Rita Hayworth song. —30— THE WAY WE WORE (8/ Thumbing through some old slides recently, my wife and I came across pictures of our family standing in front of our old apartment building in New York. We were on our way to a matinee to celebrate my son’s 8th birthday. My daughter was five. This was the year my son decided he was too old for a party so the trip to the theatre was a substitute. One of my perks was that I could take him backstage to meet the star. Even though it was a matinee, it was still a Broadway theatre so dressing up was called for. Doug was wearing a blazer and flannel pants plus a white shirt and tie. My five year old daughter, Laura’s outfit was topped with white gloves and Mary Janes. We all looked spiffy and we knew that every other theatre-goer would be equally well dressed. That was a long time ago. Contrast that with what we saw the last time we attended a Broadway theatre. People seated near us showed up in cut-off jeans, open-toed sandals and tank tops. A friend recently e-mailed me about a similar display in orchestra seating on a Saturday night. Watching Celebrity “Jeopardy” recently we saw Alex Trebec on stage at Radio City Music Hall dressed in jacket and tie. He was followed by four celebrity contestants from “Law and Order” looking like they’d just tumbled out of bed and thrown on clothes they had earmarked for Goodwill. Why is it necessary for celebrities to look like total slobs when out of costume? Fashion, like language, is a living ever-changing thing. When I added television to my role as a critic, the news director insisted I wear a tuxedo to all openings. I protested the word “all.” Lots of people wore tuxedos at big Broadway musical openings, I explained, but nobody wore one at off-Broadway events where you might just as soon see rats running up the aisles as actors. Did I want the job, he insisted? I wore out three tuxedos. At least we have outlived the days of doublets and jabots. I’m glad I never had to wear a jabot. I’m sure I would have dropped spaghetti sauce on it and it would probably never come out. I’m equally glad we don’t all dress like refugees from the 1920s or 1930s. The hats, alone, in those decades, were totally ridiculous. I remember Dior’s “New Look” as a disastrous mockery of women and pictures of bustles are total turn-offs. Even my favorite decade, the 1940s had its losers. Ever see a zoot suit up close? Am I a sartorial snob? I don’t think so. I deeply admire bikinis. . . especially if well-filled. They and their occupants look great at the beach or pool. But, please, not on the golf course and not in a restaurant. I still like the look of bobby-soxers and the twirling skirts of Scarlett O’Haras. I’ve never worn knickers but a lot of golfers still look good wearing them. Even kilts have their place and safari jackets look fine even outside of Africa. (Besides, each side pocket holds a full box of shotgun shells.) I confess I seldom wear a tie. If the dinner calls for jackets AND ties, I tend to skip the event. Once I finally got over the serviceman’s guilt trip of walking outside uncovered, the only time I wear a hat is as a sunshade on a court or golf course. Dressy casual is as close as I come to formal attire. I no longer even own a tuxedo, despite my bragging ability to tie a black tie in the dark. I do own some ties and still know how to do a Windsor knot, but they gather dust in the closet. We have to reconcile ourselves to changing fashion and acknowledge the right of a younger generation to do its own thing. But there are limits. No one will ever convince me that a baseball cap worn backwards is anything but an in-your-face challenge and no baseball cap is ever okay on the head of a male in a restaurant. Droopy pants that scrape the ground are also no-no’s in my book and tank tops are only okay in a gym. Shirt tails are meant to be tucked in. I also feel that the current military berets don’t begin to look as good as the caps that used to be worn in the services. But then, I date myself, don’t I. Some things are better. Girls, for example, seem much prettier. Is it a tribute to good dentistry and vitamins? Or am I entering my dotage? Were we more civilized in the days of white gloves and Mary Janes? You tell me. What’s your take on the way we wore? —30— IT’S MAGIC (9/ Magic has always intrigued me. I was too young to see Houdini but did get to see his brother, Hardeen, perform some escape tricks. I also saw the great Thurston do his illusions. Growing up, I tried to master the art of prestidigitation; spending hours trying to make coins disappear and cards pop up behind elbows. I never was very good so moved on to mechanical magic. These are tricks you can buy that do not require sleight of hand or even dexterity. My kind of trick. Once, in Times Square, I stood looking into a shop window where magic tricks were on display . Suddenly, a voice beside me said, “Do you like magic?” I turned to see a New York policeman in full uniform. I nodded. “You don’t need that junk,” he said. He took me by the arm and propelled me across Broadway as he added, “Let me show you real magic.” Passersby stared at us, wondering what this miscreant (me) had done. The cop took me into a meeting room in a midtown hotel where a gathering of Society of American Magicians was holding forth. It was as though a curtain had been raised. This was the real thing. . . these were the real magicians. They were demonstrating tricks before their peers while I stood in awe. I have always been a good audience for magic because I have always been a believer. No matter how much I learned about how things were done, I believed it was simply: magic. This stood me in good stead years later in the theatre. On opening night of “She Loves Me” the curtain got stuck half way up. It took ten or fifteen minutes to untangle it. . . just enough time to destroy the illusion for many but it did not bother me. “She Loves Me” was magic and I believed. I still believe in King Arthur and Merlin and magic. My wife teases me about this naiveté but I remain convinced. How else could King Arthur have drawn Excalibur from that rock. The answer remains: Merlin and magic. You may try to convince me that the only way you can whisk a rabbit out of a hat is if the rabbit is already in there but I don’t care. I believe. Labor Day is upon us and in just a couple of waves from political magic wands, the first primaries will be here. Now is the time for Merlin if ever we are to find our King Arthur or Ronald Reagan. What does magic have to do with this? Have you looked over the list of candidates? Admittedly the Democrats seem to be better focused and less in need of emerging in a puff of smoke, but the thought of any one of them in the Oval Office is to conjure up visions of Monica Lewinsky. It is not that they have any clear-cut presidential candidates. Each Democrat also carries much baggage. Hillary is shrill and calculating; her background is rife with suspicious acts. Obama shows his inexperience with too many foot-in-mouth statements. John Edwards is self-indulgent and phony. I could go on. The Republicans also leave much to be desired. Each carries negative baggage in apparent flip-flops or non-diehard conservative thinking or (like Fred Thompson) lightweight speeches. We need magic. Personally (I reserve the right to change) I favor Mitt Romney but he does not resonate too well with those who think abortion is the most vital issue. A good magician could make that disappear. Then there’s that bit about being a Mormon. Too many people equate that with plural marriages. These are not reasons to reject a candidate who otherwise has excellent qualifications. In this multicultural America, we are more than ready for a Mormon, Jew, black or woman. (What about Condoleezza Rice?) I also like Mike Huckabee. I can hear you now saying, “Mike, who?” Vast millions of Americans cannot put a name to his picture. He has most of the qualifications we conservative seek but he is unknown to most. Here’s a man who really needs a Merlin. . . or maybe a Karl Rove. We need magic and magicians. We need people who know how to advertise and promote and make household names out of virtual nonentities. Unfortunately, most of the really great P.R. folks (like the media) lean left. That puts the magicians in the Democrats camp. I can think of no other reason why they control Congress. Of course magic should not enter into any of this. But then neither should $400 haircuts or glittering smiles. I can assure you the rest of the world is not swayed by such trappings. And it is the rest of the world that we must think of. That is where our president must shine and win. Abracadabra. —30— CELEBRITY JUSTICE (9/ Most of my working career has been surrounded by celebrities. Perhaps because of this, I have never fully understood the adulation commanded by people whose major claim to fame centers around being well-known. Celebrities, of course, do come in many shades of talent or even competence. Some few warrant long-term applause but most fall into Andy Warhol’s fifteen minutes of fame. I knew some of them well. . . some of them briefly and some of them not at all. I simply met them. Howard Cosell used to take delight in dragging Mohammed Ali around to meet all of us colleagues. Thus, I met Ali quite a few times but never knew him. The same was true of a fair number of pro football players from the Giants and the Jets. Meeting them, you would hardly guess that they made their living entering arenas with risk of much bodily harm. Like Ali, most of them were handsome, friendly and unmarked. To my knowledge, not one of them was involved with dog fighting. There were scandals, of course. . . long before my day. Silent screen star Fatty Arbuckle was tried for rape and murder of a young girl. The public was enraged and convinced of his guilt thanks to the yellow journalism of William Randolph Hearst. A jury thought otherwise and found him innocent. Charlie Chaplin, a true icon of Hollywood, was exiled from the United States and Ingrid Bergman was persona non grata after her affair with Rossellini. The list goes on. The public attitude never changes. Outrage, anger and boycott are the first reactions. . . followed, in time, by forgiveness. Maybe that is the reason the celebrities feel free to act irresponsibly as too many of them do. They think anger against them will all blow over in time. Another reason is the super leniency of today’s crop of judges. Too many of them seem too enchanted with the Lindsay Lohans of the world to exercise true justice. Why? And why do we tolerate it? It would seem that all it takes is a “mea culpa” and we cut these rotten people loose to do it again. The latest, of course, is Atlanta Falcon quarterback, Michael Vick. He has apologized to his fans, his team, the NFL and, most especially, the youngsters who look up to this so-called role model. He has also found religion. In other words, he has pulled out every stop to orchestrate his way to absolution. To really stack the deck, his backers have added the race card. To those of us who have never had any form of racial prejudice, this is a flat-out insult. Am I the only one who is cynical about this newfound innocence? Or am I simply biased against anyone guilty of cruelty to animals? Given the huge salary and fame this man has enjoyed, his actions have been reprehensible, unconscionable and inexcusable. Why is there even a question about him ever playing football again? As this is being written I do not know what his fate will be. A year in jail? How about fifty years in jail. Play football again? How about not even being allowed to watch it. I still cannot understand the adulation of Elvis Presley. He was in the opinion of many of us a mediocre singer, amateur actor and self-indulgent drug addict, yet decades after his death, thousands of fans line up in Graceland to pay homage. Forgiven for his indiscretions? He was idolized. Elvis Presley is neither the first nor the last of celebrities who have been given second, third and fourth chances despite their limited contributions to humanity. Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan. . . the list goes on and on. The rewards of being a celebrity are huge but fame comes with an obligation to keep your public nose clean. I don’t mean sign autographs because a fickle public will boo as quickly as cheer if you start losing at your game. But you can’t subsidize dog fights or drive drunk or engage in public immoral acts. If you do, you should expect the same kind of punishment that non-celebrities get, including real jail time. If someone can throw a football or shoot a basket or sing a song, that may be enough to cause people to buy a ticket to watch them do these things. But those talents do not make them heroes. Heroes are those unknown but dedicated people who defend this nation. Heroes are firefighters burdened down with back-breaking gear. Heroes are protectors against crime. Heroes are nurses holding our hands when we are ill and scared. Heroes are teachers trying to give students a boost up. These are the true celebrities. . . even if the audience does not yet recognize them. —30— GAYS AND GOVERNMENT (9/ Homophobia is again center stage. Senator Larry Craig’s problems were lead stories on all news media right after he was accused of illegal and immoral acts in a public bathroom. Resignation was said to be his only recourse. Was all of this hoopla due to moral indignation? Hardly. It was a “shields up” political maneuver. This is not to suggest that Craig was blameless. As this is written, nothing has been proved and Craig has been seesawing back and forth between pleading guilty and defending himself. Do I believe Craig should resign if he solicited sex in a public place? Yes. Do I believe Craig should resign for being gay (if in fact he is?) No. Anyone who spends any time in the entertainment industry will have to spend some of that time with gays. It isn’t just that gays tend to gravitate toward creative careers which abound in the entertainment fields; it is also because such careers offer good hiding places. Of course, you don’t have to be gay to be truly creative. Lorenz Hart of Rodgers and Hart fame was gay. Richard Rodgers was not. In fact, Rodgers had quite a reputation as a ladies man. Irving Berlin was straight. . . Cole Porter was gay. Alan Jay Lerner (lyricist for My Fair Lady) was heterosexual. I knew Lerner quite well but never met his collaborator, Frederick Loewe, and so know nothing about his preference except that he was, to my knowledge, never married. Harold Arlen was straight as an arrow, Jerry Herman (Hello Dolly) is gay. See the pattern here? Sorry, there isn’t one. All of the above named people are creators of some of the best music this world has ever whistled and sung. Note that sometimes one collaborator is gay, the other heterosexual. But not always. Outside of the music field hundreds of other creative geniuses have been homosexual. Consider Walt Whitman, Oscar Wilde, Alexander the Great, Socrates, Leonardo Da Vinci. Is being gay the secret of their genius? I sincerely doubt it. Genius is genius is genius and no one can point to any reason why one has it and another does not. Besides, who can suggest that Lorenz Hart is a better lyricist than Oscar Hammerstein? They both worked with Richard Rodgers. I have known and worked with many of the people named here and have never found any barrier to our friendship. Maybe I did not send out the right signals. . . or maybe I sent inadvertent signals that declared me to be strictly heterosexual. In any event, sex was a subject never broached. There are gays who do offend me. Those who prance down Fifth Avenue trying to stir up support for Gay Pride are people I could do without as are those who flaunt and swish and demand attention and admiration not for what they have done, but for who they are. Gay bars and bathhouse shenanigans anger me but then, any form of promiscuity is anathema to true conservatives. Although I believe, as do many, that being gay is not a choice, how you handle it is. If you can’t live up to the rules of ethics, don’t run for office. If you do run for office, make self-discipline your first priority, whether reaching under a bathroom stall or flouting decency in the Oval Office. Good manners and high standards come with the territory. There are those who would banish gays as violators of biblical fiats. I can understand their viewpoints even though I disagree with their premise. There are, however, situations which do call for action. Breaking the law is one of them. . . uncontrollable urges notwithstanding. These are tough calls and those of us who are fortunate not to have to face such flaws cannot afford to be smug and self-superior. Too many of us reject people because they do not conform with every one of our standards. Prejudice and bias have no place in a free America. You may be justified in demanding that every candidate for office have all the right qualifications and think exactly as you do but reality dictates more than a few compromises. I know little or nothing about Senator Larry Craig’s qualification for office. That is for the people in Idaho to decide. But I deplore zeroing in on sexual preferences solely for political purposes. I would scream bloody murder if gays were banished from creating music and theatre and literature. Think of never hearing “Begin the Beguine” Or “In the Still of the Night;” think of never seeing the Mona Lisa or The Last Supper; think of never reading “Leaves of Grass.” think of never hearing: It seems we stood and talked like this before, We looked at each other in the same way then, But I can’t remember Where or when. —30— A New Season (9-23-07) Autumn in New York Why does it seem so inviting Autumn in New York It spells the thrill of first-nighting Those words to Vernon Duke’s classic song can be a state of mind as well as a salute to a new season. Autumn signals a time for change even to those for whom this season heralds an end. As leaves drop and plants put shields up against winter, even cynics recognize the nip in the air that puts a lift in their strides. This is especially true after such a long, hot drought-ridden summer. For years, that song was my theme; theatre was the center of my universe. It began when I could barely afford to sit in the second row of the balcony, peering down at tiny actors and it progressed to the real thrill of first-nighting, seated tenth row on the aisle. The first show of the season meant seeing old friends again and watching new ground be broken. . . new stars introduced. Nothing was more important. No more. Too many necessary people have passed on. Too much has changed in theatre itself. . . from the use of microphones to the reduction in the size of the orchestra to the emphasis on using celebrities instead of competent actors to the proliferation of too many producers per show to the gradual increase in revivals because there are not enough writers and composers capable of nourishing this invalid. This year I count a good dozen revivals, some of which deserve to be brought back, although I can’t think of anyone who might want to see Rosie O’Donnell in a reprise of “No, No, Nanette.” There is even a revival of “Hair” on tap. That’s the so-called 1960s breakthrough that gave the actors a chance to take off all of their clothes if they wanted to. Many of them did. We used to have about a hundred new shows a year. That number has really dwindled. The reason given is money. When it opened in 1943, Oklahoma! Cost $75,000. Today that same show could not be produced for less than several million. I remember paying $4.80 for a ticket to that show. Today, that would be over $100, yet the St. James theatre (which housed it) still has roughly 1600 seats. There is thus a limit to how much money can come in. Nor does money equate with quality. And quality (plus true innovation) are what is truly lacking. The movies, too, are looking forward to a new season as they scrounge around for blockbusters. The chances are a couple may be just that: blockbusters I just wish the Hollywood ivory tower crowd did not think we needed their help in figuring out the politics and wars and how to run the country. Most of them know less about the world than your neighborhood barber. There will also be the usual slate of “R-Rated” movies designed to teach us neophytes the meaning of sex and obscene language. And what makes Hollywood think we need remakes of good films like “3:10 to Yuma?” The 1957 version with Glenn Ford is still around and still superb. Some movies, admittedly, do not hold up and become cliché-ridden and dated. My wife and I watch two or three movies a week and gave up recently on Oscar nominated “El Cid.” Halfway through it, we both decided that Charlton Heston was totally unconvincing as a Spaniard and El Cid could not part waters. We’d okay a remake of that one. All of the above brings us up to television, wherein we get to watch just how far the envelope can be pushed. Former FCC chairman Newton Minow once accused the industry of being a vast wasteland. That was forty years ago. Recently, Mr. Minow amended his statement to read: “Now it is a toxic dump.” Amen. Cable spews out enough foul language and foul deeds to push broadcast TV against the ropes. Networks scream First Amendment and try to catch up as they add more obscenities to dialogue. You and I may be old enough not to be influenced. But impressionable teens and sub-teens are easy marks. If TV presents graphic scenes of sexual violence and teen promiscuity, young viewers tend to think of that as acceptable. Even advertisers are getting into the act, confusing pornography with marketing. One fast food chain uses a female teacher and young teen-age boy target to sell hamburgers. I think the worst offenders are those news programs that put their own stamp of approval on indecency by letting us watch an overexposed Britney gyrate in little or no clothing. Or promote Rosie’s book. By the time we become aware of what is on the screen, it’s too late for that OFF button. “Autumn in New York,” one of my favorite songs, is beginning to lose its luster. —30— OUTRAGEOUS? 9-30-2007 You could fill dozens of columns with outrageous doings but, today, we’ll just concentrate of a few of the most recent. We begin with O.J. Simpson who a dozen years ago was found not guilty of murder in a criminal court and guilty of that same crime in a civil court a couple of years later. Since then, Simpson has been living high on the hog as he protects his money in an untouchable pension and an untouchable million dollar house in Florida. The Goldman family was awarded multi-million dollars in the civil trial but has yet to see any money from Simpson. What we have seen is Simpson playing golf and grinning at the cameras. Remorse is a word not in his dictionary. It would seem that Simpson has everything. . . except the constant limelight his ego needs. That may be the real reason for the Las Vegas break-in. He faces ten felony charges and could spend the rest of his life in prison but he is back where he thinks he belongs: in the spotlight. His grin is back and his confidence has been restored. He expects to get away with still another criminal act it and stands a good chance of doing just that. With all those alleged crimes including armed robbery, attempted kidnapping etc. you would think his bail would be in seven figures. Not so. The benevolent judge set bail at $125,000 which boils down to just $19,000 actual cash out of pocket. Outrageous? The Clintons are back in the news again regarding hanky panky in donations. Déjà vu. Remember the Whitewater scandals and Hillary’s brilliant coup in making money in cattle futures? Of course nothing was ever proved. It is therefore surely just a coincidence that the Clintons always seem to attract what proves to be shady money. The latest concerns a fugitive named Norman Hsu who was engaged in a Ponzi scheme some years ago and then moved up from small time con artist to the big time. His latest shenanigan involved raising almost a million dollars for Hillary Clinton. Are we to assume that Hillary was not aware of the background of Hsu? Or is this another right wing conspiracy? She has returned the money. Are we to assume that she would have given it back if Hsu had not been apprehended? Outrageous? Columbia University has long been known as a fine journalism school along with Northwestern, Syracuse and Missouri. Two good friends of mine were once professors at Columbia. . . one in theatre, the other in journalism. What has happened to this venerable Ivy League school? They have invited a madman to speak; they have invited a terrorist maniac to address the student body. At least New York City refused to allow Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the president of Iran to visit Ground Zero. However, Columbia wants to expose its students to all points of view. The students should learn about the Iranian President's denial of the Holocaust; his public call for the destruction of the state of Israel; Iran's pursuit of nuclear ambitions in opposition to international sanction; his government's widely documented suppression of civil society and particularly of women's rights; and his government's imprisoning of journalists and scholars, including one of Columbia's own alumni, Dr. Kian Tajbakhsh. Some of the students and alumnae are horrified. Others welcome the chance to hear an opposing viewpoint. Opposing viewpoint? Are they suggesting that the Holocaust might actually be a myth? Do they welcome Iran’s attempt to get a nuclear bomb in the same paragraph with a desire for the destruction of Israel? Outrageous? What has happened to academia? Colleges are vital. Where else can you learn engineering? Or law? Or medicine? Admittedly, college is only the first step. If you really want to be a journalist, serve as an intern or apprentice or cub reporter under a curmudgeonly editor. But a good journalism school would help you get a start. At least that is the way it used to be. Today, too many professors seem to feel it is not only their right but their duty to expound on philosophies of the extreme left. They do so under the guise of freedom of expression under the protection of the First Amendment and, if they have tenure, flout even common sense. Integrity and true objectivity are placed on hold. Exhibit A is the University of Colorado’s Ward Churchill who may finally have been fired. Exhibit B are Duke’s eighty professors who condemned and pronounced guilty those lacrosse players who were later found innocent. Did they ever apologize for their very bad call? Exhibit C is Columbia President Lee Bollinger who invited the president of Iran to hold forth and spew his hate in our own country. Outrageous? Is there a need for a question mark after the word outrageous? I think not. —30— HOORAY FOR COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY? (10-7-2007) The president of Iran has come and gone to the Columbia University campus and all the appeasers are taking bows. The New York Times has logged in to hail the president of Columbia for fielding some tough questions. The trouble is, he did not get answers. He got meandering crackpot evasions that sounded like Hillary Clinton explaining why she has not vocally opposed that MoveOn ad. Look at how open and objective Columbia is, cry the Lefties. The school did what a great journalism school should do: open the door to discussion. . . prove how free we are by inviting an opposing view. Really? How open are schools to both sides’ issues when they will not allow ROTC on their campus? How open is Stanford when its professors have gone all out to block former secretary of defense Donald Rumsfeld’s appointment to a fellowship. The idea was that Rumsfeld would join a study group examining terror and ideology in today’s world. No, no, cry Stanford’s professors, we can’t have him here. That would be open-minded and academia wants no part of anything that opposes professors’ erudite ideology. Can college professors spell hypocrisy? Too many professors feel they have superior knowledge in all things and should be given full rein to all they deem worthy. The trouble with that is that superior knowledge is iffy. They may know lots about ancient Greek and little or nothing about today’s practical world. They are sort of like golfers. You’ve been there, I’m sure. One of the members in your group has a handicap of seven. . . yours is twelve. Ergo, he is superior to you, not only golf, but in all other endeavors. That specious reasoning may give you a chuckle on the first tee but it has no place in the classroom. There is nothing wrong with true, honest, open discussion. But today’s students are not getting that; they are getting slanted, biased and twisted discussion. No matter that Columbia suggested that the president of Iran was “quite simply, ridiculous. (or). . . either brazenly provocative or astonishingly uneducated.” That got a lot of applause but Ahmadinejad was still the winner because he got a fully televised platform to spill forth his ideology. That is what he sought and that is what he got. I have highly intelligent friends who cannot bring themselves to speak ill of anyone. They excuse all evil and seek the other side in all confrontations. They can find reasons for the behavior of Ahmadinejad, Chavez of Venezuela, Adolph Hitler and Kim Jong-il. They remain convinced that logic and a friendly gesture will win out and convince these evil monsters to learn to love us. Would that they were right. Would that history did not deny them any credibility. Would that Neville Chamberlain had been able to use appeasement to avoid World War II. Chamberlain’s heart was in the right place. He genuinely believed that Germany had been ill-treated following World War I and thought that by agreeing to some of Hitler’s and Mussolini’s demands he could avoid a European War. We all know what followed those appeasement proposals. I derive no pleasure from rattling a saber. . . no joy from shaking a fist in an adversary’s face. Few people do, which is why some diplomats and some university people continue to play the roles of nice people: good guys. The trouble is: it just plain does not work. All the “good guy” approach does is play right into the hands of evil people and give them time to re-arm or build up their belligerent forces until they can overwhelm us. And make no mistake about it. We are vulnerable. Anyone who remembers the condition of this nation when we entered World War II remembers the wooden rifles and trucks pretending to be tanks and airplanes that were almost too few and too old to get off the ground, let alone protect us. Production and the spirit of the American people were the only things that built us into the juggernaut we became. Factories were converted from making sewing machines and automobiles into assembly lines that poured forth tanks and planes. Could we do it again? Not with outsourcing. Can we expect China to convert the factories making our toys into ones making weapons? Hardly. To hear the appeasers tell it, none of that matters. All we have to do is extend a helping hand and a listening ear and all the bad guys will go away. And besides, don’t forget that Bill Clinton built a big surplus by cutting way back on defense. Don’t worry; we can always talk our way out of trouble. Just open Columbia University’s campus to open discussion. Okay. . . semi-open. We’ll just ask some tough questions. Is this a war-monger or hawk writing these words? How about realistic pragmatist. —30— THE WAR (10-14-2007) It should come as no surprise that Ken Burns’ latest documentary, “THE WAR,” is superb. Everything this producer has ever done is excellent. . . whether it be “The Civil War,” ‘Jazz” or “Baseball.” There are, however, people who question why he did it. A good friend of mine expressed the feelings of many when I asked if he was watching the series. “I’ve had enough of World War II,” he replied. I did not pursue it. I don’t know whether he was in that war or not. I do know that I was in it and yet still learned things from Ken Burns that I never knew before. Perhaps the reason is that Burns’ war is no glossed over Hollywood epic starring a Robert Taylor who never appeared in any battle unless every hair was in place. No, this production shows a lot of warts. This “greatest generation” was not perfect and those of us who are from that generation know that. My first sight of the Sandhills was from the cockpit of a C-47 at tree-top level as we trained for an invasion of Europe. Little did I think that I would one day live here. . . happily. I piloted a plane-load of paratroopers into Normandy on D-Day yet did not really know what took place on that day until I read Stephen Ambrose’s “D-Day” many years later. There had been other books and films about June 6, 1944, but most of them were essentially love stories woven around that fateful day. There is nothing wrong with love stories and certainly nothing wrong with the inspiring films that starred John Wayne, Cary Grant and Tyrone Power during the war. They gave us a leg up on courage and determination. But they were not too factual and they glossed over the horror of war. Later movies like “Command Decision,” “Battleground” and “Twelve O’clock High” dug deeper into the darker side but they were post-war films. Hollywood, during the war, was a needed, patriotic industry which did much for recruiting and morale. It was a sharp contrast to the Sean Penn type hate-mongering that exists today. If we swallowed the propaganda and uplifting patriotism of the “In Which We Serve” type war-time pictures and the drawings of Norman Rockwell, it probably pushed us toward victory. For the most part, news stories of that era also helped join the nation together. Were they less factual than the media of today? Define “factual.” Tokyo Rose and Axis Sally got their licks in but few paid any attention. The news did not pretend that FDR was a walking athlete, it simply avoided the subject. Today’s rating-hungry hyenas would focus their cameras, zoom in on his braces and stand ready to pounce if he fell. Another difference: in the 1940s cub reporters were not allowed to editorialize when delivering a straight news story. Would I like to return to those days of innocence? Sometimes. Or partly. Racism and bigotry existed together with the segregation that makes you squirm with embarrassment when it is pointed out. Nobody wants to go back to Jim Crow times. But there were good things: Think of the young girl, longing for her boy overseas. Picture her listening to a song like “I'll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through.” Think of her singing back: “I'll walk alone But to tell you the truth, I'll be lonely I don't mind being lonely When my heart tells me you are lonely, too” Now, pity the young girl of today . . . moon-eyed over a rap song by somebody like Eminem. Ugh! Why produce another history of World War II? Santayana probably offers the best reason with his oft-quoted “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” The big difference was then it was the Republicans who tended to be isolationists. They can be partially excused for feeling secure behind two oceans. In today’s missile-oriented world, that defense no longer offers any consolation. Mistakes will always be made, by kings and presidents alike. That is why we have parliaments and congresses: to act as checks and balances and keep mistakes from mushrooming. Knowing the past will, at least minimize them. How many wars have we had which were heralded as the “war to end all wars?” How many wars does it take before we learn to emulate Teddy Roosevelt’s “Speak softly but carry a big stick?” How many wars does it take to learn not to listen to bad guys who make promises? Appeasement is for losers. If you missed PBS’s telecast of “The War,” I’m sure it will be repeated. And it is also out on DVD to rent or buy. It should be a must-see for all of us. It is, in a word: magnificent. –30— CIVILITY (10- 21-2007) Joan Thurman, who is running for the Pinehurst Village Council is distributing a postcard-size announcement which states “. . . I believe we can disagree without impolite, ungracious or rude verbal or written assault. With that in mind, I would like to pledge to you civility, courtesy and respectful behavior. . . ” Since I have known Joan for a number of years, I know she means it. Would that every other candidate. . . local, state and federal would adhere to the same standards. We’d have a lot less knotted-up stomachs. We might even be able to sift through the hyperbole and know where they really stand on issues. I suspect it will never happen, however, for opponents took potshots at George Washington as well as Abe Lincoln. And just what is civility, anyhow? On the surface it would seem that the Southerner is inherently kinder and more courteous than the Yankee. Maybe it’s all that sweet tea. I remember when I first came down here and was directing a musical, the head of the theatre group called and said, “We have a little problem in communication. I wonder if we can meet over some coffee and discuss it.” I wanted to get right to the heart of our problem. His reply demonstrated the difference in our approach. “You Yankees,” he said, “always want to jump right in and pounce on the point. We Southerners like to dance around a problem” That was my first introduction to how to smooth over differences. In the twenty years I have lived here, I have begun to learn to dance a little, myself. I have caught myself many times biting my tongue and wishing I had never said things that popped out in emotional outbursts. Fortunately I have just as often been forgiven. In truth, I envy the soft-spoken “speak no evil” style and wish I could be more like that. But, living here, I’m still learning so maybe there is hope. This is not to say, however, that the Southern approach is necessarily more civil. The transplanted Northerner comes across frequently as abusive, abrasive, loud and just plain rude. But civility is frequently in the ear of the listener. When a typical New York cabbie shouts, “Come on, Mac, move it. Get the hell out of the road,” that sounds rude. . . especially if it is accompanied by a blast of the horn. Is it rude? Or is it simply part of the New Yorker’s patois? Is it nicer here in the south? Sometimes. But then I remember guys from Brooklyn who, in their gruff fashion, would give you the shirt off their back if you were in trouble. Visit New York during the Christmas season and pay attention to the warmth and the smiles and friendliness that prevails. Fall down and see how quickly the New Yorker helps you up. The stories about them stepping over you are mostly myths. Lose your way and listen as each resident pauses to give you directions. Sometimes those directions can be as baffling as the Londoner who winds up saying, “You cahnt miss it.” Admittedly, you can live in an apartment building for years and never know your next door neighbor but, if you knock on his door, the chances are good you can borrow a cup of sugar. Of course if the neighbor is on a diet, you’ll probably get NutraSweet. Civility comes in many guises. Ultra nice lip service is often just a camouflage for someone to put you in harm’s way. Harsh outbursts are frequently the best way to send a message quickly. Sort of like yelling “FORE” before it’s too late. And sometimes negative is necessary. As a critic, it hurt me to be negative about someone’s performance or creative effort, especially if they were friends. Yet I was not paid to be civil; my job was to be honest and professionals understood that. It might take them a day to get over being on the receiving end of what they thought were uncivil remarks but they did get over it. There are those who think some things should not be said, but bad people must be outed. It may seem unfair to point out where a child predator lives, but not if you have a child. In politics, if a candidate brings forth exaggerations that border on lies, this must be brought into the open. Sometimes this exposure is done with a strong attack. . . sometimes it takes place with a quiet disclosure. Both methods can be done in a civil way; both methods can be done rudely. But exposure must occur, or the public suffers. So even Joan Thurman’s approach needs to be tempered. . . especially when she adds, “However, this doesn’t mean I won’t be there for you if the going gets tough.” —30— —30— |
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