Beating the Bushes:

Dear Mel: Its That Time Again!

Dear Mel:

   I won't begin with the usual "hope all is well with you and the family," because I know how you're doing. 

   You're excited.  You're totally psyched.  You're reasonably optimistic.

   Baseball season is about to begin!

   As one die-hard Dodger fan to another [we likely rank in the top ten], I know you're counting the hours until that first pitch.  Then it all begins anew: fastballs, double plays, suicide squeeze bunts; all that goes into what Tommy Lasorda calls "bleeding Dodger Blue."

   Already I can hear Vince Scully's " . . . so pull up a chair and spend some time with us."  You know something Mel?  Its quite likely that next to my father, the one male voice I've heard the most in my life is Vinnie's.  Remember his old sidekick Jerry Doggett?  Remember that first season back in 1958?

   My god, that was half a century ago!

   Do you remember the opening day lineup for that first game against the Giants at old Seals Stadium?

                                      Gino Cimoli           cf

                                      Pee Wee Reese     ss          

                                      Duke Snider          lf

                                      Gil Hodges            1b

                                      Charlie Neal          2b

                                      Dick Gray              3b

                                      Carl Furillo            rf

                                      Rube Walker          c

                                      Don Drysdale         p

    I'm sure you recall that the Dodgers lost that opener 8-0; that Jim Spencer hit that first homerun off of Drysdale; that Willie Mays  went two-for-five with two rbi.  And of course you remember that they came back the next day and destroyed the Giants 13-1 behind the masterful 5-hit performance of Johnny Podres.  As I recall, Dick Gray hit the first L.A. Dodger homerun off the long-forgotten Ramon Monzant, who had a career record of 16-21.

    The first game I attended with my Dad was on Sunday, July 13 versus the Cincinnati Redlegs [as they were called back then.]  We had pretty good seats just behind that left field screen that Wally Moon would make famous with his "Moon Shots."  I remember like it was yesterday; Frank Robinson [Frank Robinson!] was playing left that day, and my father told me that someday he would make the Hall of Fame.  We won that day 3-0 behind the 3-hit, 10-strike out performance of Stan Williams.  Furillo and Neal both homered.  Heck, I even remember the umpires that day: Ken Burkhart, Dusty Boggess, Ed Sudol and Tom Gorman.

    That first Dodger team, which went 71-83, had a bunch of relative unknowns named Koufax, Fairly, Larker, Lillis, Bilko, the Sherry brothers [all hail Fairfax High!], Pignatano and Howard.  Oh how they scrapped; oh how they lost!  But of course, the next season they became the first team to go from worst-to-first when they beat the Chicago White Sox four games to two in the World Series. 

    Those were the days!

    You know Mel, back then we didn't care -- let alone know -- how much players made.  About the only thing I knew on any personal level was that Don Drysdale had a "restaurant" not too far from our home.  [Actually, it turned out to be a bar -- I was really upset to think that "Big-D" might be a drinker.] Complete games were the norm; there wasn't any official statistic called "saves;" most players had off-season jobs.

    Today, it is almost impossible to tell the difference between the sports and business sections of the newspaper. During the off-season, when finding articles on baseball is about as difficult as selling snow boots to the Saudis, all we read are stories about the tens -- even hundreds -- of millions the players are getting; about who's being accused of taking what they euphamistically call "performance inhancing drugs;" and about who's being arrested for DUI, assault or carrying a concealed weapon.  It used to be that whenever the word "battery" was used in a baseball-related story it meant the pitcher-and-catcher, not something from the police blotter. 

    Fifteen seasons ago, I attended the Opening Day luncheon for the Florida Marlins; they had asked me to give the invocation.  I got to sit at a table with then-owner Wayne Huizenga, then-manager Rene Lachemann and broadcasters Joe Angel and Dave O'brien.  After lunch [amazingly, Mr. Huizenga provided me with kosher food!], I got to go around the room and shake hands and chat with all the players . . .Benito Santiago, Orestes Destrade, Jeff Conine, Gary Sheffield and Walter Weiss.  When I got to Charlie Hough, we chatted a bit about his days with the Dodgers, and then I blurted out, "Charlie, you've just got to continue pitching for as long as you can!" 

   "Any particular reason," the knuckle-baller asked.

   "Well yeah," I said sheepishly.  "You see, once you retire, there won't be anyone older than me playing major league baseball."  Eyeing my gray hair and white beard, he said, "Thanks a heap rabbi!  You make me feel soooo young." We both cracked up.

   And yet, beneath the shared laughter, there was a bit of serious truth; the fact that "America's Pastime" was passing me by.  Heck, back in 1958, the "youngsters" were born in the late 1930s; today those same guys are in their late-60s, early-70s.  Think of it: Duke Snider is 82; Sandy is past 70! Today's rosters are filled with players who are younger than my favorite tie.  Where oh where has the time gone?

    And yet Mel, whenever Opening Day is upon us, the old juices start to flow, the little kid in both of us begins to reawaken.  I know my mom, [whose first baseball hero was Cubs Catcher-Manager Gabby Hartnett] is beginning to remember her old days sneaking into Wrigley Field wearing her older sister's dresses so she could get in on "Ladies Day."  April makes kids of us all. 

    So, let's forget about Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Alex Rodriguez and the whole steroid mess; let's not pay attention to who's making how much.  Instead, let's get back to what makes America's Pastime so wonderful: balls and strikes, towering homeruns. Gravity-defying curves and the seventh inning stretch.

    It's time to be boys again.

    With all good wishes and the hope of seeing you at Dodger Stadium in late October,

    Kurt

    Play ball!

  ©2008 Kurt F.Stone

                   

"THE SPEECH"

     One of humankind's oldest and best-known tales deals with a bunch of blind men [or men "in the dark"] who come upon an elephant.  [N.B. from here on out, do remember that we are referring to a magnificent beast, and not the symbol of the Republican Party!] 

    Each man touches the enormous pachyderm in order to determine what it is like.  When finished, they compare notes.  They discover that they are in complete disagreement.  In the Jainist version of the story, the man who feels the elephant's leg declares that the beast is like a pillar; the one feeling its tail that its like a rope . . . and so on.

        Although divergent  tales can be found in -- among others -- the Jain, Buddhist and Sufi-Hindu traditions, the moral remains absolutely constant: reality may be viewed differently depending on one's perspective.  Back in the mid-19th century, American poet John Godfrey Saxe penned:

 

 

   It was six men of Indostan to learning much inclined,

 Who went to see the elephant [though all of them were blind.]

  That each by observation, might satisfy his mind. . .

 The poem goes on through innumerable stanzas until at last Saxe reaches the moral:               

     So oft in theologic wars, the disputants, I ween,

     Rail on in utter ignorance, of what each other I mean.

  And prate about an Elephant not one of them has seen!

       How true; how utterly true.

      This tale has been darting in and out of consciousness the past few days as I mull over the various responses to Senator Barack Obama's historic speech about the Reverend Jeremiah Wright and racism in America.

      Responses ran the gamut from "flat out brilliant," "epochal" and "the best we're likely to hear for a long, long time," to "disquieting," "grating," and "an insult to America."  The New York Times editorialist breathlessly compared Senator Obama's speech to inaugural addresses of Lincoln and FDR; the Washington Post rhapsodized that Obama's speech was " . . . a compelling answer both to the challenge presented by his pastor's comments and to the growing role of race in the presidential election."

      On "the elephant's other side," one finds former Ohio Secretary of State Ken Blackwell -- himself an African American -- banging the klaxon of utter revulsion: "Here is a guy who basically said that, while he was in Reverend Wright's church, he embraces Louis Farrakhan."  Then there are all the ditto-heads of the blogosphere weighing in with such "thoughtful" comments as: "A sorry attempt to bail his own ass out of the fire speech;" "Historic introduction of the left wing class warfare doctrine into mainstream presidential politics;" and perhaps most succinctly, just plain "barf!"

        Let's take off the blinders and examine our "elephant" in the bright light of reality.

           As one who watched, listened and read Senator Obama's oration through the eyes, ears and experience of a long-time speech writer and speech-giver, I came away with one over-arching response: "This man is the real deal."  Moreover, as a long time pulpit rabbi, I found myself wishing that I had had a congregant such as he: one who is intelligent enough to vehemently and diplomatically disagree with his pastor on point, but self confidant enough not to join the throng calling for the preacher's beheading or dismemberment. '

        The senator's explanation of the difference between his and the Reverend Wright's generation was both masterfully down-to-earth and meaningfully didactic. Jeremiah Wright was born a full 23 years before passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act; Barack Obama a mere 36 months.  When Wright was born in 1941, there was a single African American in Congress -- Illinois's Arthur Mitchell.  By the time he was 20 there were four.  By comparison, by the time Barack Obama turned 20 in 1981, there were 18. Additionally, two of the eighteen -- California's Julian Dixon and New York's Charles Rangel -- were committee chairs. 

         Senator Obama's point is clear: although he disagrees with many, if not most, of the Reverend Wright's more outrageous statements and points of view, he does, nonetheless, understand how he came to hold these opinions.  Compare a '60s-era student at Berkeley, Columbia or Kent State with one from 20 years later.  There are differences galore in politics, socialization, and overall world view; where a '60s-era student may have been part of SDS or the Student Mobilization Against the War, his or her 80s-era counterpart was likely in a fraternity, sorority, or -- dare we say -- ROTC.

         Far more importantly, Senator Obama showed himself to be a thoughtful, articulate progressive-minded candidate who is unafraid to speak out on one of America's sorest -- and most historically tragic -- issues: racism.  The courage and eloquence he showed in addressing America's longstanding "monster in the closet" was something befitting a future president.  Indeed, it was both essential and utterly refreshing. 

          There have always been two major threads twisting through American history; call them the "communitarian" and the "individualistic."  The first, embodied by the likes of Jefferson and Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt and the Kennedys, have understood and counseled that this nation's progress depends on a collective "we're-all-in-this-together" attitude.  In an earlier generation, the "communitarian" thread was perhaps best expressed by JFK when he said "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country."

          In opposition to this has been the "individualistic" thread; the one best embodied by the Adamses and Tafts, by Nixon and to a lesser extent by Reagan.  This attitude understands and fosters an America that is the product of unbridled, untrammeled, unregulated individual effort.  It is the Horatio Alger myth writ large; the "Anyone-with-the-will-and-energy can-make-it-in-America" point of view. 

          This week, Senator Barack Obama declared himself to be firmly, foursquarely and articulately, a devotee of the communitarian school of thought and action.  As such, he, like Kennedy before him, has laid down a communal challenge to America.  It is the challenge of FDR -- that we not fear the present, but work together as a nation so that the weakest and the least among us can find dignity and hope in the future.  It is a call to our higher angels; a call that requires us to collectively roll up our sleeves and together, work for a better society, a better world. 

           Yes, there are those who will continue to chip away and denigrate everything Senator Obama -- or his wife Michelle -- does, says or thinks.  But we cannot -- indeed must not -- be disheartened.  Senator Obama is striving to provide Americans with a road map to the future.  I for one hope he succeeds.

             For he is one of the few who has seen that elephant with unblinded eyes, and has a pretty good idea of just how majestic that powerful creature truly is.

          

©2008 Kurt F. Stone

"If It Bleeds, It Leads"

    Have no fear: this will not be another article on the rise and fall of [as of 7 1/2 minutes ago] former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer.  There have already been far too many.  I for one will simply not rehash all the other high flying politicos who have suddenly and inextricably crash-landed on the rocky tor of ignominy. 

    As much as I may wish, I will dutifully refrain from tossing around the names of such disgraced public officials as Wilber Mills, Neil Goldsmith, Bob Packwood, Robert Bauman,  Robert Leggett, Wayne Hayes, Randy "Duke" Cunningham, Gary Condit,  Larry Craig, Gary Hart, Dan Crane, Buz Lukens, Fred Richmond, Barney Frank, John Doolittle, Mark Foley or David Vitter. 

    As tempting as it may be, I simply will not draw comparisons between how some paragons of virtue like Republican Senators Larry ["I've been a bad, bad boy"] Craig and David ["I asked for and received forgiveness from God and my wife"] Vitter skated, while others like Democrats Jim McGreevey and Tony Coelho took the political pipe.

    I will of course conquer the urge to use that Nietzsche quote ["Wer mit Ungerheruern kämpft. . ."] about "He who fights with monsters should to it that he himself does not become a monster."

  No, I won't do any of these; I won't go there.  For after all, as I wrote about 200 words back, this will not be another piece on the rise and fall of Eliot Spitzer.
   

   Well, not exactly . . .      

What this is, is rumination -- call it meditation or contemplation -- on what does and does not get our collective juices flowing; on which scandals capture our breathless attention and which put us into narcoleptic stupor. It is about which sins get the screaming headlines, and which the code of silence. 

  Indeed, which?

   In a new book entitled Free Lunch, subtitled How the Wealthiest Americans Enrich Themselves at Government Expense [and Stick You With the Bill] New York Times reporter David Cay Johnston hit the nail on the head in writing [p. 236]: "Today's politician is far more likely to get attention for personal acts that belie a public image of a virtuous life than for promising to protect voter's purses while working stealthily to pick them."   

   How -- and why and when -- did we as a nation, a people, get to the point where what are essentially private peccadilloes came to trump issues of public corruption ninety-nine times out of a hundred?  Pretty strange, no?  Consider the following:

• Far more people have an opinion about the glaring stupidity of Eliot Spitzer than know -- or seemingly care -- about how Congress and the White House stuck American taxpayers with the so-called "Medicare Prescription Drug Plan."  This plan -- which they swore on a stack of Bibles would cost no more than $400 billion over 10 years -- turns out to cost some $720 billion.  That's 80% more than originally advertised.

 

• A lot of Americans are both angrier and more knowledgeable about l'affaire Clinton/Lewinsky than they are about the ongoing boondoggle at the Department of Defense.  Who knows or cares about the fact that our troops in Iraq are essentially forbidden to do their own laundry?  That instead, it has been jobbed out to a private concern that charges more than $50 a load?
• There has been far more airtime -- and public attention -- devoted to Congressional hearings on the use of steroids by pitcher Rodger Clemens than to the  looming Constitutional clash between Congress and the White House over former White House Counsel Harriet Miers and former Chief of Staff Andy Card.  Indeed, it is likely that for every person who can successfully identify both Miers and Card, there are ten million who can give line and verse on "Roger Rocket."
• During this, our seemingly endless presidential election season, the media -- and thus we, the public -- have shown far more interest in such "hot button" issues as whether Senator Clinton's tears are real or Senator Obama once sold drugs, than truly vital issues like healthcare, the economy, the war, or the shifting of so much of this nation's wealth to the top .1% of all wage earners.

Let's face it, the old strategy of "Bread and Circuses" did not die out with the fall of the Roman Empire.  [n.b. The term 'bread and circuses' refers to the method that the ruling Roman elite used to maintain their power and control over the people.  Through this method, they kept their "sheep" fat and happy, even as they "fleeced" them.]

   America is likely the most acquisitive, wealth-envious society in the history of the planet.  Every day, we are fed a steady diet of the lifestyles, possessions and foibles of the rich and famous.  Their cars, jewels, salaries and romances are staring us in the face on countless cable stations and from newsstands from Bangor to San Diego.  The media is only too happy to provide the "bread and circuses" via stories of venality, crime, murder, mayhem and debauchery. It keeps us riveted; it keeps us from paying attention to what is truly going on.  Where the Romans kept their sheep from recognizing how badly they were being fleeced, our modern corporate media has likewise managed to keep our minds diverted from the fleecing we are getting.

     The media has a slogan for this: "If it bleeds, it leads."

    I for one think Eliot Spitzer is both brilliant and a horse's hind end. He gives new meaning to the term "hubris." What he has done to his family, himself and the people of New York is both tragic and as foul as a flatulent water buffalo.    But it also tells us a great deal about who we are as a nation. It says that we are far more engaged in the moral failings of mortal beings than in the health, sustainability and future of our own country.

©2008 Kurt F. Stone

The Price of Victory

   Anyone who lived through -- or has studied -- World War II is undoubtedly familiar with the cartoons of Bill Mauldin.  For those too young to know [or perhaps too old to remember], Mauldin [1921-2003] was the ace cartoonist of that conflict.  A "dogface" with the 45th Infantry Division, Mauldin's best-known creations were two cartoon characters, "Willie and Joe," who became synonymous with the average American G.I.  -- part warrior, part pack animal, always weary, always begrimed.  For soldiers on the front lines and the folks back home, Willie and Joe provided a running commentary on the war in Europe.

   I well remember spending countless hours pouring over Mauldin's cartoons in a book entitled Up Front, which had a place of honor on my parents' bookshelf.  One cartoon that has always stayed with me was, I believe, the last one Mauldin published in Stars and Stripes:  Willie and Joe are hunkered down in a foxhole.  Off in the distance are the remains of a once great metropolis, now bombed to smithereens.  Willie stares blankly at Joe and says, "Well, at least we won!"

   This particular cartoon came to mind last night while I was watching the election returns with a bunch of local politicos.   It stayed with me all day as further statistics and "post-game" commentary become available.   Only one certainty emerged from yesterday's primaries: Senator McCain is the new face of the Republican Party.  Already, former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee has officially dropped out of the race;  already President Bush has given Senator McCain his "Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval."  None of these should come as surprises.

   Now that McCain has been enthroned, the press will turn virtually all its attention to the ongoing war of words and wits between Senators Clinton and Obama.  This is as things should be; after all, there's still a long, long way to go until either Clinton or Obama grabs the brass ring.  The waters are still murky and roiled.

   Yesterday's primary races in Rhode Island, Ohio, Texas and Vermont ["ROTV" for short] undoubtedly gave Hillary Clinton both the bragging rights and the "big mo," but still kept Barack Obama ahead in the hunt for delegates.   As of 5:00 p.m. today, March 5, Obama appears to have 1,561 committed delegates to Clinton's 1,461.  In the hunt for "Super Delegates,"  [there are about 800 of them], Clinton leads Obama 241-202.  From a statistical point of view, it would take nothing short of an act of God for either candidate to capture the nomination before this summer's convention in Denver.

   Facts and statistics however, can only take one so far.  They cannot and do not tell us what's going to happen tomorrow.  Nonetheless, several subjective observations do come to mind:

• From now until Denver, Senators Clinton and Obama should be aiming the majority of arrows in their respective political quivers not at each other, but at Senator McCain.
• Neither of these worthy candidates should give the Republicans further ammunition: Clinton's "3:00 a.m." television spot is just perfect for Senator McCain to use against Senator Obama.  Indeed, all he has to do is add his own "I am John McCain, and I approve this message" voice-over to Clinton's ad.  Heaven knows, he'll save a ton of money in production costs!
• Senator Clinton should stop making comments like: "I have a lifetime of experience that I will bring to the White House.  Senator McCain has a lifetime of experience to [bring to] the White House.  And Senator Obama has a speech he gave in 2002."  This kind of remark is high-calorie fodder for McCain's "Straight Talk Express."  One can imagine the Republicans using that clip over and over in the general election [should Senator Obama indeed be the nominee].  The obvious implication would be, "You see, even Hillary Clinton agrees that John McCain is more experienced and would make a better president than Barack Obama!"
• Moreover, should Barack Obama to become the Dem's nominee, of what value will a Clinton endorsement be?  Can she take back her "John McCain has a lifetime of experience, Barack Obama has a speech" comment?  Indeed, will observations like this -- and "Senator Obama is a Christian . . . so far as I know" -- fracture the party?
• Those Super Delegates who are as yet uncommitted would do well to cast their votes for whichever candidate has the plurality going into Denver.  Were they to overturn the will of the nation's primary voters, it could easily bring Republican charges of racism, sexism or political shenanigans taking place in [non] smoke-filled back rooms.
• There are unconfirmed reports that many Texas Republicans crossed over the partisan Rubicon and voted for Senator Clinton, believing that she would be far easier to defeat come fall than Senator Obama.  Whether or not this is true, it brings up a serious issue: which candidate stands the best chance of defeating McCain in November?
• Many are beginning to ask if Senator Obama's disdain for "going negative" is a political character flaw; a sort of John Kerry redux. From my perspective, this "flaw" is one of the things that make Senator Obama absolutely unique; he possesses a dignity of character that is sui generis in this era of "take no prisoners" politics.  Those people whose knowledge of the campaigns and candidates is limited to "dirty underwear" headlines likely wouldn't be voting for Obama anyway.  I may be wrong, but I believe that people are fed up with campaigns that overflow with sewage.

   

   So what do Bill Mauldin, Willie and Joe and "At least we won!" have to do with all of the above?
   
   Only this: If candidates will do anything, say anything -- indeed, charge anything -- in order to win the nomination, what, in the end of days will they have won?  A fractured party?  An albatross that will weigh them down from Denver to November?  Four more years of corporate welfare and pandering to the "haves and have mores?" 

   Shortly after Mauldin's final cartoon appeared in Stars and Stripes, America instituted the Marshall Plan --the reconstruction of war-ravaged Europe.  It turned out to be one of America's -- indeed history's -- most godly, dignified deeds. 

   Sorry to say, but there is no Marshall Plan for a war-ravaged party.
   

   There is only Mauldin's maudlin caption.

   ©2008 Kurt F. Stone