Today's Musical Selection: "String of Pearls" by Glenn Miller

LET'S SEE HOW MUCH RANDOM NONSENSE WE CAN STRING TOGETHER AND CALL IT A COLUMN

Hi, everybody. As you might have gathered from the headline, I have nothing particularly intelligent to say today (when do I ever?), so I'll just be throwing whatever I've got out there. My apologies.

Let's start with Rene Gonzalez, that kid from UMass who wrote the column attacking Pat Tillman. Today he apologized to the Tillman family, in an e-mail to a Boston TV station. Whether he also apologized to the family personally is unclear, but I hope he did.

Here's his explanation for what he wrote: "I felt that his celebrity had been a factor in American society calling him a 'hero,' and I felt American society had arrived at that conclusion without much thinking, but rather as some sort of patriotic 'knee-jerk' into hero worship. That was my point. I did it [admittedly] in such an insensitive way, that the article was not worth publishing."

If that was his point, he surely could have said it without bashing Tillman. A note to Mr. Gonzalez: If you have something you want people to hear, there are two ways to go about it. You can start speaking and wait for people to hear you and pay attention, or you can jump up on a table, drop your pants and scream obscenities. Gonzalez's column was the latter approach. And the assault on Tillman essentially eradicated the rest of his message. Perhaps he'll keep this in mind for the future.

And as a parting gift for Mr. Gonzalez, whom I intend never to discuss again if I can help it, I offer some words of wisdom from Hubert Humphrey: "The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously."

If you want to read something smart about this whole disagreeable business, check out The Smart Lady's post over at De Novo.

The Brewers held the line at 12-10 thanks to having the night off. Tonight they host the Pirates, a series which seems eminently winnable. With nothing new to say about the Brew Crew, I want to take a second to highlight a funny quote from one of the best Brewer blogs out there, Al's Ramblings:

It should be noted that the Brewers scored their 1st run tonight after Junior Spivey was hit by a pitch, in seeming retaliation to Ryan Freel being hit by Matt Kinney. You gotta wonder if the Brewers still tie the game at 9 if that doesn't occur.

It is simply astounding teams still feel their best option is to give the opponent a free baserunner in order to "get even" with them. They ought to try this new fangled thing called "scoring more runs and winning the game".

Bill Simmons of ESPN checks in with a solidly funny column on the NBA playoffs. See, when he sticks to being The Sports Guy, and stays away from the Hollywood Bill persona, he's still capable of good work.

E.J. Dionne has a good column about the vanishing of moderate Republicans, in light of Arlen Specter's narrow victory over conservative Pat Toomey in the Pennsylvania Senate primary. It would have been quite odd if a moderate state like Pennsylvania was represented by arch-conservatives Toomey and Santorum in the Senate. Fans of bipartisan cooperation will find this passage alarming:

Stephen Moore, the Club for Growth's president, always saw the effort as having a double purpose: to replace Specter with a conservative if possible, but also to demonstrate how much anguish conservatives could create for Republican moderates who did not fall into line. "It serves notice to Chafee, Snowe, Voinovich and others who have been problem children that they will be next," Moore said before the primary, referring to Republican Sens. Lincoln Chafee of Rhode Island, Olympia Snowe of Maine and George Voinovich of Ohio.

Problem children? People like Chafee, Snowe and Voinovich are the only reason that there's any cooperation across the aisle at all any more. These are the people who get reasonable bills passed. If these are "problem children," I fear for the future of the Senate.

Who else misses the liberal Republicans? Clifford Case, Tom Kutchel, Jack Javits, Lowell Weicker, Charles McC. Mathias, Mark Hatfield, Nelson Rockefeller... fine public servants all. Ideological purification of the parties serves no one. (The same is true for conservative Democrats, by the way, even though most of them are already gone. "Then why do you hate Zell Miller?" I hear you ask. It's not Zell Miller's policy position that irk me so much as the fact that he is a Democrat who can't stand the party. And if that's the case, he should switch.)

Incindentally, you may think that I write babbling nonsense much of the time, and you'd be right. But, I'd argue, so do John Kruk and Tina Brown, and they both get paid for it. Does anyone else think it would be fun to send those two on a blind date?

Interesting column by Howard Fineman looking at John Kerry's potential running-mate picks. As predicted in this space a couple weeks back, Mark Warner's success in getting a tax plan through the Virginia legislature has put him on the list. Dick Gephardt's still at or near the top of the list, and I still think that's a bad idea: Gephardt just isn't dynamic enough. On the other hand, if he is willing to show some fire and take on the attack-dog role on the ticket, he might be all right. Mr. Sunshine, John Edwards, is still much talked about, but I really don't think he'll get it. He doesn't seem like Kerry's kind of guy. Fineman mentions some female possibilities, none including my crush (Mary Landrieu) or my top pick (Jeanne Shaheen). Tom Vilsack is reportedly a top choice, which I'm not entirely sure I understand. Unless he's sitting on some wellspring of personality he hasn't previously demonstrated, he strikes me as Gephardt with better eyebrows and less experience. We shall see what happens.

Finally, speaking of candidates and personality, loyal reader Tripp has taken me to task for bemoaning the obsession with presidential charisma. Here's what he had to say:

I think politicians have always needed charisma - that is nothing new. Now they need charisma that comes across on TV, too. It probably started way back when Nixon lost to Kennedy because his 5 o'clock shadow made him seem sinister in a TV debate. Well, good looking actors with bad voices lost their jobs when the talkies came in, too. C'est la vie.

I replied that charisma in the game-show host sense is a modern requirement for the presidency. Although parties have sought to make their candidates seem like regular fellows all the way back to "Tippecanoe and Tyler too," the idea that the candidate has to be personally entertaining is relatively novel, a development largely spawned by television.

I didn't add (though I do believe) that the comparison to silent-film actors in the age of talkies isn't quite accurate. The sound of an actor's voice is part and parcel of his acting. If someone is fabulous at conveying emotions and getting into a character, but he sounds like a frog in a blender, he won't have the effect on the audience that an actor needs. Entertaining the people is an actor's primary function. It isn't (or shouldn't be) the president's main job.

Tripp had a tart reply to this:

Sadly, gramps, there is no way to get back to the good old days of the horsedrawn carriage.

And I seem to recall that prior to the days of the PA system one 'entertaining' feature a good politician required was a booming speaking voice that would carry over a big crowd. Also, the ability to speak for more than an hour was helpful.

Neither of these attributes requires anything like a good mind or good character.

Your note about a booming speaking voice is a fair one, although I wonder if not having one was considered a fatal flaw. I do dispute, though, that being able to speak for more than an hour doesn't require a good mind. Unless you're standing up there for an hour and spouting random words or reading the phone book, you need to have a knack for good oratory and at least a passing knowledge of how to construct an argument. If you're going to speak for an hour on a given subject, you need to understand that subject. A dunce couldn't speak effectively on a subject for an hour-plus.

It certainly takes more brainpower to construct a worthwhile hour-long speech than it does to spout a thirty-second sound bite. Sound-bite politics bother me so much because they actually punish you for being thoughtful and considering things intelligently. If you've carefully thought over a tax increase and decided that even though it may be unpopular, it's the best thing for the country, and you spend 15 minutes explaining how you arrived at this position, you will actually be judged less competent than the guy who stands up and shouts "No new taxes!" Is that a good way to run a political system?

And what do you mean that we can't do back to the horsedrawn carriage? Who says? And where's my Metamucil? I need a nap.

At any rate, time to slip off into oblivion for the weekend. See you Monday!  ¶ 12:28 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Celebrate" by Three Dog Night

FISCAL RATIONALITY SWEEPS VIRGINIA... FILM AT 11!

Hello, everyone! As I mentioned briefly yesterday, Virginia's General Assembly approved a $1.36 billion tax hike, paving the way for an end to the budget impasse. Everything broke just right, for once. The breakway Republican delegates held firm. The Northern Virginia Democrats backed down from their threat to veto the deal. And now the landscape looks hugely different. Governor Warner notched a major legislative victory. The anti-tax crowd suffered a stunning defeat. And a state famous for its fiscal conservatism affirmed its commitment to providing a decent level of basic service.

So what does this mean? Let's take a look at the deal first. The sales tax will go up a half-cent, to 5 cents on the dollar. The sales tax on food, however, will drop by a couple cents. The tobacco tax will increase in stages from the ridiculously-low 2.5 cents per pack to 30 cents per pack, still well below the national average, but at least within hailing distance of it. The fee for recording deeds will go up, in what is doubtless a huge blow for the deed-recording industry. The plan includes income-tax breaks for low-income people and married couples, but the income break for seniors, which is currently automatic, will be means-tested. The plan closes a variety of corporate tax loopholes.

But the most stunning part of the plan is that is places a cap on car-tax relief. Governor Warner's initial plan did not have such a cap, and the presence of it in the final agreement is a stunning triumph of good government over sloganeering. A brief primer: The car tax is assessed locally, a percentage of the car's value, and Jim Gilmore was elected governor in 1997 largely on his promise to eliminate the tax. Since the tax is local, "relief" has come in the form of state payments to local governments to make up for the lost revenue.

I never thought that the car-tax relief idea was all that hot to begin with, but at least it seemed affordable in a time of robust economic growth. As times got tighter, though, the phaseout plan stalled. Also, it seems Governor Gilmore underestimated the cost of relief a teensy little bit. He swore that complete repeal of the tax wouldn't cost any more that $650 million. Now, it's been discovered that full repeal would cost $1.7 billion. Big problem.

The budget deal caps the state payout at $950 million, which means that local governments will either have to increase the tax or cut services in order to make up the revenue gap. Ordinarily, I'm not in favor of punting revenue problems down to the local level, but the car-tax repeal plan was so bad in the first place that this deal is essentially restoring reason to its throne.

Now, what does it all mean? For Governor Warner, it means a potentially bright political future. Before this deal passed, Warner's political legacy was that of a bland, inoffensive caretaker who achieved little of consequence and was soundly trounced by the General Assembly in the political arena. Now, he has a signature achievement that he can call his own. He stumbled some along the way, but in the end, this deal would not likely have happened without him. He took the lead, he forcecd the issue, and he managed to shift the terms of discussion such that the tax increase became a matter of "how much" as opposed to a yes-or-no question. Now, he has a platform to run on should he choose to take a shot at the Senate in 2006, as many think he will. Congratulations, Governor, you stood tall on this one.

For the anti-tax forces, it means that a solid decade of landslide victories in Virginia is coming to an end. The "Taxes Are Evil" strategy has been very good to the Virginia Republican Party over the past few years, and it's helped them to establish a solid majority in the Assembly and general statewide success. Now, though, the party has fractured on this question of orthodoxy. Anti-tax groups are threatening to run primary opponents against the Assembly members who backed a tax hike. It remains to be seen if they'll follow through on this, but if they do, the Republicans could be in for a wild ride. If incumbent Republican moderates lose the primaries to anti-tax zealots, those seats could become vulnerable to Democratic takeover. Even if the moderates survive, the Republican's governing majority, which up until now has been remarkably efficient, might turn fractious. Relations in the General Assembly, which have historically been courteous, might become nasty. And the Republican governing machine might tear itself apart. We could see a showdown between the hard-line anti-taxers (George Allen's group) and the moderates (the Tom Davis gang). If that happens, the Democrats might have a chance to slip back into power, which would be an upset.

What went wrong for the anti-taxers? Well, the two obvious answers are fiscal reality and poor strtategy. The budget gap was so large that the usual one-time tricks and moderate cuts wouldn't accomplish anything. And Warner's boldness in proposing a tax plan rendered the one-time-trick strategy useless anyhow. As for the strategy, the anti-taxers' constantly shifting tactics made them look desperate. The firm hold-the-line strategy went out the window when the Senate refused to play along. The House's smallish make-the-companies pay increase also hit the wall in the Senate. The government-shutdown threat was largely ignored. The let's-put-the-taxes-to-referendum strategy quickly met the smackdown it deserved. And the slash-and-burn budget only proved how dire the budget mess was. Warner and the Senate, on the other hand, were consistent in their call for a broad-based increase. Even when the process appeared on the verge of collapse, Warner and the Senate kept pushing forward.

Something else happened, too. The anti-tax crowd has grown smug on the idea that, no matter what happens, they'll always have popular backing, because no one likes paying taxes. In the end, they figure, politicians don't want to take bold steps that will alienate the voters, so they'll wind up in the anti-tax camp sooner or later. But the anti-tax forces didn't have a popular outcry backing them up this time. Instead, people realized that, while they don't like paying taxes, they do like the things that taxes pay for, and they seemed to grasp that there is actually a choice to be made. Senators and delegates who were thinking of backing the tax increase listened to their constituents, and what they heard gave them the backbone to keep fighting. So the people of Virginia deserve credit for grasping this lesson in advanced citizenship.

And no dissection of the budget deal would be complete without a tribute to John Chichester. When Warner first floated his plan, the Republicans in the Assembly tore it to shreds. It would have been easy enough for the Republicans to paint Warner as a tax-hiking extremist and ignore his plan. That's certainly what Speaker Howell tried to do. But to his everlasting credit, Chichester looked at the numbers and saw that there was a real problem. He rewarded Warner's courage for being first into the battle by standing with him, and making sure the Senate did too. He was even bold enough to propose an increase much larger than Warner's, which ensured that the struggle would be fought more on the governor's terms. Without Chichester's support, it's highly unlikely that this whole thing could have happened. Thank you, Senator. (Credit also goes to Vince Callahan, another fiscal realist who wound up coming through for the tax plan, despite some murkiness as to where he stood throughout the debate.)

Richard Cohen is the latest to jump on the Kerry-is-too-dull bandwagon. He goes after Kerry for being too dour and humorless, which is a common complaint. He also has this to say for Democrats who would attack him for attacking Kerry:

Stop! Do not e-mail me, dear reader, on how I should not be constructively criticizing Kerry ("bashing," it is called nowadays) but instead should be saving the nation and the world from another four years of Bush and Cheney. That latter, though, is truly my intention. I am told that this is the presidential preseason, a period when only the cognoscenti and the mentally unhinged are paying attention to presidential politics, with everyone else waiting until after the World Series. It is now, therefore, while no one much is looking, that I can critique Kerry in an effort to make him a totally unbeatable candidate. He needs to lighten up.

Cohen is right on this one. There's nothing wrong with trying to make Kerry a sharper candidate. Democrats shouldn't pretend he's perfect just because they want to run Bush out of town on a rail. I happen to think Kerry's personality isn't a problem, but if Cohen does, he should say so. His criticism is a totally different species than Kaus-style Kerry-bashing, where the goal is to beat Kerry by any means necessary.

How 'bout them Brewers! My boys stand at 12-10 after an amazing comeback win over Cincinnati last night. The Brew Crew trailed 9-0 after 4 innings, and came all the way back to take a 10-9 victory in ten innings. Bill Hall was the hero for the second night in a row, hitting the game-tying double in the eighth and driving in the winner with a squeeze play in the tenth. The night before, Hall hit a walkoff homer to beat the Reds. Sure glad we have him around.

Of course, because the Brewers are considered to be a joke franchise by the media, no one's going to notice this solid start. We could finish over .500 (a major achievement for us) and no one would notice. We are the Rodney Dangerfield of baseball. But rest assured, we're savoring this moment of adequacy. To borrow a quote from For Love of the Game, "We don't stink right now!" It's nice to be able to check the box scores without cringing.

Finally, I notice that a lot of people have been hitting this site by seraching on "Pat Tillman" and "UMass." I didn't know at the time what the connection was, but now I see it. Seems that a student name Rene Gonzalez wrote an article in the UMass paper slamming Tillman as a false hero. A few sample passages:

I've been mystified at the absolute nonsense of being in "awe" of Tillman's "sacrifice" that has been the American response. Mystified, but not surprised. True, it's not everyday that you forgo a $3.6 million contract for joining the military. And, not just the regular army, but the elite Army Rangers. You know he was a real Rambo, who wanted to be in the "real" thick of things. I could tell he was that type of macho guy, from his scowling, beefy face on the CNN pictures. Well, he got his wish. Even Rambo got shot in the third movie, but in real life, you die as a result of being shot. They should call Pat Tillman's army life "Rambo 4: Rambo Attempts to Strike Back at His Former Rambo 3 Taliban Friends, and Gets Killed."...

Tillman, probably acting out his nationalist-patriotic fantasies forged in years of exposure to Clint Eastwood and Rambo movies, decided to insert himself into a conflict he didn't need to insert himself into. It wasn't like he was defending the East coast from an invasion of a foreign power. THAT would have been heroic and laudable. What he did was make himself useful to a foreign invading army, and he paid for it. It's hard to say I have any sympathy for his death because I don't feel like his "service" was necessary. He wasn't defending me, nor was he defending the Afghani people. He was acting out his macho, patriotic crap and I guess someone with a bigger gun did him in.

Myself, I'm mystified by the fact that Gonzalez feels the need to paint an ugly -- and false -- picture of Tillman in order to express his opposition to the war. By all accounts, Tillman was a smart and sensitive guy, not at all the Rambo caricature that Gonzalez paints. And as for the accusation that Tillman "wasn't defending" America... it's true that the Taliban did not fly any planes into the World Trade Center. But the Taliban was supporting and harboring the people who did. Doesn't Gonzalez see the connection?

He believes that our attack on Afghanistan is futile:

Al-Qaeda won't be defeated in Afghanistan, even if we did kill all their operatives there. Only through careful and logical changing of the underlying conditions that allow for the ideology to foster will Al-Qaeda be defeated. Ask the Israelis if 50 years of blunt force have eradicated the Palestinian resistance.

There's some truth to this. Wiping out Al-Qaeda in Afghanistan wouldn't eradicate the terrorist threat. And changing the conditions that allow terrorism to flourish is definitely a good idea. What Gonzalez doesn't understand is that the action in Afghanistan is part of changing the conditions. We'd do well to combat the simplistic anti-American stereotypes that abound in the radical Muslim world. But we also need to get rid of the terrorists' favorite hiding places. It's entirely debatable whether the Iraq war improved our national security. But the war in Afghanistan did, and I'm puzzled that Gonzalez doesn't understand the connection.

Even if he believes that the Afghani war is wrong, that's no reason to rip into Tillman, particularly with such a wrong-headed picture. Tillman's memory deserves far better than the attack in Gonzalez's piece. And that's all I have to say about that.

Except this: I found the link to the article via Real Clear Politics, which links it with the title "Many on the Left Do Not Think Pat Tillman is a Hero." This is ridiculous. The article isn't titled that, and Gonzalez doesn't attempt to argue that. It's frustrating that RCP would cherry-pick the only person I've seen so far who's attempted to make this argument and make him the spokesman for "many on the left." You can do better, guys.

That's all for today. Mush tomorrow!  ¶ 1:36 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Freedom 90" by George Michael

RULE OF THREE?

Hello, everybody! I want to revisit the subject of Iraq today, via Timothy Noah's article in Slate yesterday. Noah explores the possibility that Iraq be divided into three sovereign states, either entirely independent of one another or in a loose federation. He quotes a couple of serious thinkers on the subject. I found this article particularly interesting because I've been floating the same possibility for some time. The deep thinkers offer some insight into how such a plan might actually look. Let's take a look at the potential for a three-state solution, and America's role in it.

First, a little background. Iraq contains three factions: Sunni Muslims, Shiite Muslims and Kurds. These factions, by and large, can't stand each other. And this is not a new development: These three factions were thrown together by the Brits in the '20s, when they drew up new national boundaries after the fall of the Ottoman Empire. In typical colonialist fashion, the map was drawn up with an eye toward strategic concerns, and without any input from the people who actually lived there. Though the Shiites comprise the largest portion of Iraq's population, Saddam's regime was composed of Sunnis. The Shiites were never particularly pleased about this, but as we all know, Saddam ruled with a firm hand, so dissent was repressed.

Here's the heart of the dilemma: Now that Saddam's gone, dissent is allowed to run rampant. In some ways this is admirable (after all, the right to dissent is a cherished American freedom), but in other ways it's problematic. Rather than hopping up on the soapbox, post-Saddam Iraqis have tended to express their dissent by shooting. And America's presence in the country isn't strong enough to squelch the dissent (and, short of establishing iron-fisted martial law, it's not likely that our presence could have been strong enough).

Sunnis are bitter becaause they're not in control any more. Shiites are bitter because America doesn't want to permit the theocracy they'd prefer. And Kurds just want to do their own thing. All in all, it doesn't make for a stable situation.

Here's the rub: We'd figured initially that we could ride in, topple Saddam, and the people would be so grateful that they'd do pretty much what we told them to. We'd organize a nice, shiny new Western-style democracy for them and ride our white horse off into the sunset. It sounds lovely, but there was a slight hitch: Rather than displaying the proper gratitude to us, the Iraqi factions have used their newfound freedom to revive the old long-suppressed grudges. Worse yet, they don't necessarily seem all that interested in Western-style democracy (well, the Kurds do, but not the others). So we've planted ourselves squarely in the middle of a morass, and ouyr white horse is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.

So why don't we just go ahead with a three-state solution? Give everyone control of their own fiefdom, and stop the squabbling. Well, it's not quite so simple. For one thing, without an arrangement for sharing of oil revenues with the other Iraqi states, the Sunni state would probably be wretchedly poor, since they have very little oil themselves. Also, it's not likely that the Sunnis are ready to install a democracy. In fact, if the current state of affairs is any indication, the Sunni state would be virtually anarchic. And if a government did emerge out of the chaos, Noah points out, it's not likely to be a glorious democracy. Perhaps it would even be another Saddam. And the Shiite state, left to its own devices, would probably install a theocratic government, one that would seem repressive to Western eyes. If the theocracy took on strains of residual anti-American bitterness from the occupation, might not the new state become a breeding ground for terrorists?

So, potentially, instead of one country with a brutally repressive regime, we might face an anarchic state and an anti-American theocracy of precisely the sort that we would prefer to avoid. If that happens, are we any safer than we were before? Is the world any more stable?

And this doesn't have anything to do with how bad a guy Saddam was. Of course he was bad. He was a tyrant and a monster. But he did maintain a certain stability (albeit a brutal one), and his regime was not theocratic. And despite his vain bluster and saber-rattling, it's not at all clear that he had the juice to do any serious harm to America. Unlike Al Qaeda, he had a power base to protect. It's possible that Saddam might not have been able to do us great harm, and that even given the opportunity, he might have chosen not to.

It's not as though the new states will suddenly have nuclear capability. But it's possible that some of the new states might be more inclined to work with Islamic terrorists now than Iraq under Saddam. How much better off would we be, from a national security standpoint, than we were before? And if the answer is "barely if at all," was the invasion a good idea?

The Bush administration's foreign policy rests on the tenet that might makes right. Specifically, because America is so powerful and wields such influence in the world, the administration assumes that flexing our muscles and showing the world that we mean business will be enough to keep the rogues in line. But I'm not sure that we understand the degree to which our enemies don't believe in conventional power politics. They're trying to goad us into a fight. It's a fight we should be able to win, but at what cost, both in human lives and international goodwill? If the "sleeping giant" model isn't the right conception of America's role in the new geopolitical climate, I'm not sure that the Dirty Harry model is a great improvement.

In short, just because you're the biggest kid on the block, that doesn't automatically mean that everyone else will listen to you. It's a lesson we'd do well to remember in the future.

I love the ballsy move by Ron Artest yesterday. The mercurial Indiana forward was voted the NBA's Defensive Player of the Year, which irked San Antonio coach Gregg Popovich, who feels that his guy, Brucee Bowen, was more deserving. Popovich popped off thusly: "Bruce guards the best player on the other team almost every single night. Artest doesn't do that. Artest just looks the part. He looks like a big, tough guy. He whacks and gets knocked out of the game once in a while."

Besides appearing unsportsmanlike, Pop's comment wasn't necessarily wise. Artest has been legendary in the past for outbursts of temper, which he's done a decent job of corraling this season. His reaction here was a good case in point. The Old Ron probably would have thrown Popovich through a window. The New Ron instead offered a challenge to Bowen: "Tell his coach, 'Let's play one-on-one for the award.' I'll give it to him if he can beat me."

I think Artest played it really cool. For one thing, he didn't go out of his way to slam Bowen, who after all didn't make the offending remarks. Instead, he offered Bowen the chance to prove his mettle straight up. (And who wouldn't love to see that game?) Also, rather than calling Pop names, he asked that if the coach had a complaint with Artest's performance, he should tell Ron directly: "It's not hard to get in touch with me. All you have to do is call the Pacers office and ask for my phone number. You can speak to me instead of going to the papers. He's taken a lot of positives away from it. Talk to the Pacers and call me. Let me know I didn't deserve it so I don't have to hear it from (the media)." Give Artest credit for refusing to make the situation worse.

Artest is my new favorite NBA player. Three cheers for Cool Hand Ron.

Virginia has a tax bill! At long last. I'll get into this in more detail tomorrow, but kudos to Governor Warner for securing a major victory that few thought he could achieve. And kudos to the General Assembly for finally coming through on a good compromise plan.

That's all for today. See you tomorrow!  ¶ 1:55 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Ordinary Average Guy" by Joe Walsh

WHAT'S PERSONALITY GOT TO DO WITH IT?

Greetings, everyone. I haven't written much on John Kerry since he wrapped up the nomination, largely because there hasn't been much to say. There have been mini-flaps here and there, charges and countercharges, but nothing of real substance. This morning, though, I read Howie Kurtz's column, and it got me to thinking. The thrust of Kurtz's piece is that Kerry suffers from a potentially fatal flaw. Is it a bad stand on an issue? Some scandal from his past? A lack of experience in the halls of power? No, no, and definitely not.

Kerry's problem is that he's a cold fish.

Specifically, he's long-winded, comes off as condescending and seems too calculating. By and large, these charges aren't rooted in any particular fact of his career, but rather in feelings and impressions. Those of you who remember 2000 might see the parallels to the public perception of Al Gore. A lot of people think Gore's personality problem sank him.

Stories like this really irk me. Why is a president's personality so damned important? Isn't it more important that, say, he knows what he's doing? When did the presidential election turn into high school all over again? Where did we, as a country, go wrong? That's what I want to look at today.

First off, it's important to understand what we mean by "personality." By most accounts, John Kerry is a funny and engaging person in private. Just like Gore. I remember hearing Gore do an interview on some classic-rock morning show a few years back, and he was pretty charming. It's just that Gore, like Kerry, seemed to think that public office was a solemn duty, and tended to behave that way when in the political arena. And the people hated that.

So what do people want? They want charisma. A friend once explained the difference between charm and charisma fairly succinctly: "Charm is the glow of a single candle in a dark room. Charisma is a chandelier that lights up the whole hall." Voters want a president who gives off the impression that he'd be fun to hang out with. They want a president with a folksy touch, someone who can relate to all different kinds of people, someone who can keep the conversation going, someone who knows all the right moves. In effect, they want a game-show host.

If you think about it, the analogy really is fitting. Think about the best game-show hosts, folks like Gene Rayburn of "Match Game," Bob Barker of "The Price is Right," Richard Dawson of "Family Feud," Chuck Woolery, and so on. What do they have in common? They all know how to keep the show going. They make cold or nervous contestants come to life. They know exactly how and when to drop in a funny line. They relate to contestants from all kinds of backgrounds. They maintain order and keep the show under control without ever appearing to apply a firm hand. And it doesn't matter if Dawson was a jerk to his staff or if Barker is a big old lech; all that matters is the fact that they provide good entertainment. In the modern age, people look to presidents to do the same. (Can't you imagine Bill Clinton hosting "Love Connection" or "Wheel of Fortune"?)

This is why Bush is winning the personality war so far. When Kerry speaks, he thinks of words being chiseled in marble on the side of monuments and buildings. When Bush speaks, he thinks of words showing up on the nightly news. Is it any wonder that Bush's approach generally plays better during a television-driven campaign?

Bill Clinton understood this. Here's an experiment: Try to remember a great, inspiring Bill Clinton speech. Not what the speech was about, but what he actually said. Pretty tough, isn't it? If any of Clinton's words make it into the history books, odds are they will be "I did not have sexual relations with that woman." Clinton was not a great orator. But he was a pleasant speaker, and that made all the difference. Clinton understood that presidents are not elected based on the likelihood that they'll be remembered in history. They're elected based on who the public likes more right now.

The argument in favor of personality-based voting goes something like this: We're going to be hearing a lot of this guy over the next four years. If he's dull, grating or pompous, it's going to be four years of torture. And if it's the president's job to lead the people, how can he lead them if they're too busy wishing that he'd just shut up? These are reasonable points, but they lead to a dangerous conclusion: We run the risk of electing empty-headed twits who speak well, rather than truly great leaders.

This is why I'm bothered by the celebrity-candidate fad. Look at all the advantages an Arnold Schwarzenegger, for instance, carries into an election: Huge name recognition. A well-received public persona. The comfort of familiarity. Looking back at the California recall, did bland Cruz Bustamante really stand a chance against Arnold? Never mind the cold and dislikable Gray Davis. (Incidentally, have you seen the new commercial for Yahoo! that has Davis in it? He comes off as goofy, pleasant, even lifelike. If he'd made this commercial last year, he would still be governor. On the other hand, if he was still governor, he'd never have made the commercial.)

Political campaigns are so akin to show business nowadays that actual actors have a huge and unfair advantage over those dull and colorless souls who have spent their lives on politics. Is this what we want? People who are fun to watch and listen to, even if they have no clue about how to run the country? It's things like this that make we think that democracy is overrated.

To return to my point: If Kerry winds up losing because of his perceived coldness, then we lose as a society. If Kerry loses because voters decide that Bush is more qualified to be president, that's one thing. But if they'd just rather see him on television... well, what they say about computers is true about politics: Garbage in, garbage out.

I'd be interested to hear from people out there who do think personality should count when picking a president. Why does it matter to you? All appearances to the contrary, I would like to believe that my fellow citizens are not idiots, so if there's a good reason for personality-based voting that I haven't figured out, I'd like to hear it. And for those looking for further reading on the merger of politics and entertainment, check out Roger Simon's book on the 1996 campaign, "Show Time."

The latest on the Virginia budget deal: The Senate Finance committee passed a plan putting a cap on car-tax relief and raising about $1.3 million in new revenue. If the plan passes the full Senate, then it's back to the House to see if a deal can be worked out. Senate passage looks likely. Governor Warner gives the plan his blessing. The maverick House Republicans who voted for the msot recent House plan seem to be in favor of this one. The likely sticking point? House Democrats from Northern Virginia, who think this plan might not have enough funding for the region. This might be right, but come on, guys. If you sink this deal, do you know what Northern Virginia will get? Bupkus. Let's hope that this is just some last-minute saber-rattling by a few delegates who are hungry for attention, and that the plan passes quickly and with little trauma.

That's all for today. Something else tomorrow!  ¶ 1:28 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Please Come to Boston" by Willie Nelson

RANDOM MONDAY THOUGHTS

Good day, all. It's a drippy Monday here in the Fedroplex, but even a sodden start to the workweek can't diminish the fine weekend I had. I enjoyed The Smart Lady's company, and I got to have a fine Sunday in Baltimore, helping the Orioles with their Little League parade.

Twice a year, the O's invite local Little Leaguers to walk around the field and take in the game. I volunteered to help keep the Little Leaguers in line and off the grass. (They're supposed to stay on the warning track.) This was cool on a variety of levels, most of which didn't even have anything to do with the free food they supplied.

The pre-parade gathering had a sort of summer-camp atmosphere. The Little Leaguers fluttered around, closely accompanied by their parents, who had clearly instructed them to listen to whatever the folks in the orange shirts (volunteers like me) told them. I felt much like a camp counselor, and enjoyed the experience of having my commands obeyed. Even though I am what Cedric the Entertainer likes to call "a grown-ass man," I don't always feel like one. Ordinarily, whenever I shout something at someone, it goes completely unheeded.

But not on this day. When it was time to march, I saw a group of young Rockies loitering by a planter. So I cupped my hands and barked, "Attention Rockies! It's parade time! Let's go!" And it worked! They fell right in line. How about that? Having discovered my newfound power of authority, I kept herding, calling the Little Leaguers "son" as they passed by. "Let's get moving, son!" It was a nifty little power trip.

While the kids were marching around the field, I thought I might watch them, see the delight and amazement on their faces as they toured the field. As it turned out, though, I was too busy being delighted and amazed myself to look at their faces. It was definitely cool to have a player's-eye view of Camden Yards for a few minutes.

Incidentally, the youngsters also proved a basic verity of maleness. Specifically, men love to run into walls in sporting arenas. I first developed this theory during the Caps' end-of-season fan skate. I was a spectator that time, and I noticed that a number of young men felt it necessary to skate down and crash into the boards in the manner of one of the Hanson Brothers. And only young men were doing it. I watched closely, and did not see one woman crash into the boards. And again yesterday, several of the young Little Leaguers decided to crash into the outfield walls, in pursuit of some imaginary fly balls. I even saw a couple of the fathers do it. So remember, ladies: if you're looking for a special gift for the man in your life, give him the opportunity to crash into the walls at some arena or ballpark somewhere, and he'll love you forever.

The game itself was another experience. In honor of Little League Day, the Orioles showed up playing like Little Leaguers. As the 15-3 final score would indicate. (Line of the afternoon went to one disgruntled fan, as the O's last batter worked a 3-2 count: "It's every little kid's dream. You're up, bottom of the ninth, two out, full count... and you're down by TWELVE!")

Toronto did not choose to play down to the Orioles' standard of amateurism, but they did have a couple delights for the youngsters. For one, there was second baseman Orlando Hudson, who displayed a Little Leaguer's flair for fielding. On several occasions, Hudson made pretty diving stops on hard grounders up the middle, then proceeded to drop the ball as though it were a pipe bomb. He would then look around himself, trying to figure out where the ball had gone. He'd finally see the ball, reach for it, miss it, pluck at it again and pick it up. By this time the batter had been safe at first for a good 15 or 20 minutes, of course. But give Orlando credit for trying.

Toronto also featured Vernon Wells in center field. Vernon is one of my favorite players, and not just because he single-handedly saved my fantasy team from last place, either. Vernon plays the game with a child's enthusiasm, and he also seems to have a child's attention span. I went to see Toronto last year, and Vernon kept gesturing at some fans who were taunting him. At the time, I thought nothing of it... just a guy having a little fun in a mid-summer game between two team approximately 235 games out of first. But having seen Vernon in action again yesterday, I'm starting to think he really does have an attention deficit problem.

First, there was the Jumbotron. A lot of players will sneak a peek at the Jumbotron occasionally, during a break in the action or to see a replay of a great catch. But Vernon kept looking up at it. He looked up between batters. He looked up every time they played an interesting song. He looked up during the Crab Shuffle. He was either fascinated by the Jumbotron, or bored with the game, or both.

Then there was the fidgeting. A lot of players will stretch or twist during the game to stay loose. But I've never seen anyone do as much of it as Vernon. He twitched. He stretched. He kicked at the grass. At one point, he dropped his chin to his chest, like he was dozing off. He looked like a kid in church, trying to keep himself awake.

And the interplay with the fans continued. Having nothing better to do, the O's fans in left field kept chanting "Ver-non, Ver-non" from about the fifth inning on, trying to get his attention. Well, it worked. Repeatedly. First Vernon waved at them to sit down. Then he put his finger to his lips and shushed them. Then he cupped his hand to his ear. Then he waved at them. Then he patted his ass (I presume the message he was conveying was something like "Up yours"). The more he tried to dismiss them, the louder they got (naturally).

But the capper, at least for me, came in the eighth inning. The Baltimore batter hit a foul ball behind home plate. Vernon took a step after it, realized were it was going, and stopped. I turned to Papa Shaft and said, "See, Vernon was all over that one. He was ready to run right over and grab it." Now, I didn't say this loudly. My voice carries reasonably well in a ballpark situation, but I was talking, not shouting. But Vernon must have heard his name, because he turned around, looked right up at me for a bit, waved and turned back to the game. While the game was going on! I was touched that Vernon wanted to be friends and all, but geez, aren't they paying you to play the outfield?

Apart from distracting Vernon, we spent most of the game thinking up smart remarks to capture the O's ineptitude. Miguel Tejada made a couple ugly errors in the first, leading to Blue Jay runs. A couple batters later, someone hit a foul ball into the stands, which a fan made a nice grab on. So the announcer said, "Give that fan a contract!" And I said, "Right now!" And a guy in the next section says, "Yeah, I hear there's an opening at shortstop." The rest of the game continued in this vein. Great day at the ballpark.

But enough about me. How are all of you?

Loyal reader Tripp seems to be feeling good, and he offers us all some advice, which he calls, appropriately enough, "Tripp's tips (on women)."

1. Women like men. It's genetic. Thank God! Accept it. Embrace it.

2. Be powerful and in control of yourself.

3. Wherever you are, be there. Most people are away from their bodies. Be in the moment.

4. Focus. Look. Listen. Keep eye contact, but break it now and then and look at the mouth, then back to the eyes. Ask a question, listen, then a follow-up. Then stop.

5. Devour life. Suck the juice out of it.

6. Enjoy being a Man.

7. Lose weight.

There are other things, details, but I think that is the general thrust.

A lot of money will be spent -- wasted, really -- on advice books and how-to manuals designed to plumb the depths of male-female mysteries. But Tripp seems to have matters pretty well in hand, all in seven easy points. I have the best readers in cyberspace.

That's enough for today. What will tomorrow bring? The excitement is killing me! Tune in and find out.  ¶ 7:33 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Taps"

R.I.P. PAT TILLMAN

Hello there, everyone. I usually don't start my posts with a moment of silence, but I think it's called for this time around. I just learned that Pat Tillman was killed in action in Afghanistan. In case you're not familiar, Tillman was a safety for the Arizona Cardinals who chose to enlist in the Army after September 11. He was only 27.

Now, I didn't know Tillman personally, but I knew of him. I'd seen him play against the Skins a few times, and he always struck me as a gutty, tencious little guy, playing beyond his ability. I always thought he'd be a good guy to have on your team. According to friends, his decision to enlist in the Army was entirely in keeping with his character. He demanded no special treatment in the army, refused to make a big deal of his induction, and applied for the elite Army Ranger unit, rather than some safer position.

Tillman's story fascinates me because he's the exception to the argument I made yesterday. He certainly had other options in life, most notably an NFL career that was far more lucrative than his military job. Some people may think Tillman made a dumb decision, but the man graduated summa cum laude from Arizona State, so he was clearly smart.

What drove Tillman? I don't know. He wouldn't say, and we can't ask him now. It's easy to call him a hero, and we certainly should, without reservation, because he is. I know I couldn't have done what he did, even without knowing how it turned out.

When I first heard the news about Tillman, my immediate reaction was, "Well, there's a true hero. Look at all he gave up." But that made me uncomfortable: Does heroism, or the degrree of heroism, depend on how much you give up? Does that mean that the kid who never graduated high school who gets killed in the line of duty is less of a hero than Tillman? And does that mean I was implying that the underprivileged folks in the armed services lack heroism?

Absolutely not. And if anyone took it that way, I apologize. To say that some soldiers didn't have a lot of options in life doesn't diminish their heroism in combat. I'm just saying that we shouldn't let cases like Tillman's blind us to the fact that the people going off to war and the people sending them there often live in awfully different worlds.

I was thinking a little more about my column yesterday evening, and it occurred to me that, at least in theory, there's nothing wrong with soldiers and statesmen belonging to different classes. The problem is that we can't acknowledge it in America, land of opportunity. Even if the evidence suggests that wealth and privilege tends to perpetuate itself from generation to generation, we still cling to the idea that this is a society of perfect mobility. In theory, it is. In theory, there's nothing stopping a kid from the projects from becoming the president of General Motors. There's no law against it. But if you actually look at the people who became president of General Motors, you'll notice that they weren't from the projects. The ranks of CEOs and company presidents, by and large, come from elite business schools, and elite business schools aren't really planted thick with kids from the projects.

I suppose the degree to which you perceive a problem depends on your definition of "equality." I think we can all agree that equality of results isn't what we're going for; socialism isn't especially desirable or efficient. So we usually say we want "equality of opportunity" instead. But do we have that? I mean, as I said above, in theory anyone in our society can do anything. But we don't all have the same distance to go to reach our goals. And to blame the underprivileged for not reaching higher or farther strikes me as unfair. If I dragged you out of bed tomorrow morning and threw you down at the foot of Mount Everest and came back a week later and asked why you hadn't climbed it yet, would you think that was fair?

A lot of wealthy parents talk a good game about wanting an equal opportunity for everyone, but when it comes to their own kids, it's straight into the elite private schools, internships and summer programs. Who can blame these parents for wanting what's best for their kids? I sure wouldn't. But aren't they ensuring that there won't be a fair fight right from the start? It's a thorny problem, to be sure.

And all of this on a Friday. My apologies. I was planning to hold off on the heavy class talk until Monday, but I saw the Tillman news and it brought everything back and I couldn't help myself.

And on that, I'll send you off to the weekend. Something more cheerful on Monday, I promise. See you then!  ¶ 12:56 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Billy, Don't Be A Hero" by Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods

ARE WE FEELING A DRAFT?

Hello, everybody. As the above headline suggests, we're talking draft today. And no, this column isn't going to have anything to do with Maurice Clarett, Eli Manning, the San Diego Chargers or Ruth Bader Ginsburg. We're not talking about that draft. (Although some quick hits for the curious: Clarett is a bust waiting to happen; Manning needs to shut his dad's yap and go where he's told; the Chargers should trade down; and Ginsburg is going to treat Clarett's appeal the same way opposing defensive lines will treat him if and when he makes the NFL, stopping it cold for no gain.) No, today's column involves people like Chuck Hagel, Charlie Rangel and Fritz Hollings. Today we discuss the idea of reviving the military draft.

Hagel reignited the issue recently when he called for a public debate on reviving the draft. The Republican senator from Nebraska feels that the draft, or something like it, would help to ensure that everyone's sharing in the sacrifice of the war on terror:

His main interest, he said, is to make sure that some kind of mandatory national service is considered so "the privileged, the rich" as well as the less affluent bear the burden of fighting wars of the future.

As you might guess, Hagel's suggestion hasn't been entirely well-received. I saw that Nick over at Begging to Differ dismissed Hagel's call with a throwaway line. The comments seems to be taking the same tone, calling Hagel "strange" and "a tool" and questioning Hagel's true motives. These motive-attribution specialists tend to focus on Hagel's supposed opposition to the Iraq war (actually, he supported the war but has criticized our postwar plan), and figure that calling for the draft to return is a dirty trick, designed to undermine public support for the war. They could be right, I suppose; anything's possible.

But let's try something really crazy. Let's imagine, if we can, that Hagel might actually be -- gasp! -- sincere. Well, then what could he possibly be thinking, right? Let's take a look at his argument and find out. If we're careful enough, we might actually discover that rarest of species: a politician caught speaking candidly.

Hagel's argument boils down to two basic points. The first is that the current ranks of the armed services aren't going to be enough to cover our ongoing military campaign in the age of terror:

President Bush is right that the country is engaged in a long-term war, Hagel said, and the country is "making commitments for future years that we cannot fulfill" in fighting terrorism and trying to rid the world of weapons of mass destruction. Already 40 percent of the ground troops in Iraq come from the National Guard and reserves, and recruitment and retention will be a problem, he said.

That 40 percent figure is pretty striking, isn't it? Two major offensives -- Afghanistan and Iraq -- and we're already going deep into our bench. Ask those reservists whose tours keep getting extended whether or not there's a manpower shortage.

How did this happen? Well, after we went to an all-volunteer force in '73, the ranks of the armed forces have been dwindling. Strangely enough, a lot of people don't seem particularly eager to sign up for a chance to be killed for our country. The military is hard work, and unlike previous generations, when the work alternatives might have been digging ditches or working on a farm, there are other choices which as far less physically demanding now. And some of the former allures of themilitary lifestyle are diminshed: People seeking adventure can pop in the latest video game and enjoy all the enxcitement and carnage with none of the personal risk, while people who want to see the world can do that on their own, or see it on TV.

Of course, from the late '70s through the '90s, when our military excursions were fairly limited, it didn't matter so much. Even a depleted force was enough to win Grenada, or the Persian Gulf War. We seemed to be headed toward a period of reduced military involvement in the world, so the shrinking ranks of the armed services was a trivial concern.

After September 11, though, suddenly we had a vast and fairly immediate need for increased military presence. Toss in the gung-ho war enthusiasm of President Bush, whose conception of our role in geopolitical affairs seems to have derived from the board game Risk, and suddenly those decades of shrinkage are a problem. We're fine for now with the force we have, although our presence in Iraq is fairly thin. But what about the next conflict? Or the one after that?Our crusading battle plan figures us to need reinforcements before too long.

Hagel's second point is that, among those who do choose to go into the military, the ranks are disproportionately tilted toward the poor and disadvantaged:

Moreover, he said, all Americans should be asked to "share the sacrifice" of protecting their country. "It's unfair to ask only a few people to bear the burden of fighting and dying," he said.

It's this point, I think, that makes the subject so uncomfortable for everyone.

Speaking for myself, I have no desire whatsoever to be in the military. I don't think I have the temperament to be a good soldier, I don't like being shouted at, and I'm not at all eager to be trained to kill people. Fortunately for me, college was a viable option, and as a result I never seriously considered a military career.

But my family was fairly well-off. What if I hadn't been so lucky? What if college hadn't been available to me? In a country of vanishing blue-collar opportunities, the military is one of the best tickets to a respectable standard of living for someone without an education. If it had been a choice between the military and a life stocking shelves at Wal-Mart, for instance, suddenly the Army looks a lot more appealing.

Now, so as to avoid ugly and pointless side squabbling, let me point out that I am not opposed to the military as a career choice, and I do not demean anyone who is in it. I have nothing but respect for those who choose to serve our country. I'm saying that, given the same opportunities that I had, a number of poor people who entered the military might have made a different choice.

And that's not right. What did I do to deserve my wider slate of opportunities? Nothing in particular; I just ran with the opportunities I was handed. It's more akin to the lottery than anything else. And again, I'm not disparaging military service, but if it's the best option out there, why aren't more sons of privilege running to the recruiting centers? (It's not just me: The people I know of my generation and rough socioeconomic class aren't joining the service, either.)

And as the body count rises in Iraq and further wars loom, this will only make recruiting harder. And who will be the first people to drop out of the service? Those people who have the best available alternatives, of course. Whereas the military might have seemed like a decent alternative to a boring desk job in peacetime, maybe the elevated risk of death will make that desk job look more enticing. The longer the war on terror goes on, the more our military will be composed of people who don't have other options.

This is the heart of the problem: The left doesn't want to revive the draft because they don't want to be drafted (or have their children drafted). The right doesn't like the draft because it might diminish the country's enthusiasm for war quite a bit if they or their children were being sent off to fight.

But who likes being drafted? The whole point of a draft is to put people in the military who don't willingly choose to go. The question is whether we really view the concept of patriotic duty as something that should be shared by everyone, or whether we're comfortable allowing the underclasses to make up the bulk of the fighting forces. (I had this argument with my friends a couple years ago. They scoffed when I said that prior to September 11, the military had turned into a giant jobs program for the underprivileged. But think about the recruiting commercials: lot of people scaling mountain cliffs and slogans like "An Army of One," and not a lot of people killing and being killed in foreign countries.)

So I think Hagel's right. I'm not saying (and neither is Hagel) that a draft is absolutely the right way to go, but I think it's time we talked about it. I don't feel comfortable with the hypocrisy of sending other people off to die to make the world safe for me and my middle-class lifestyle. If I was absolutely sure that everyone over there wanted to go, that would be one thing. But I see a lot of these young people, and I can't help wondering if, had they been given the same opportunities I had, they'd be sitting here in an air-conditioned office firing off blog posts instead of standing in the desert with guns in hand.

I agree with Hagel, though, that if we did have some sort of compulsory-service requirement, it should include a domestic civil-service option. I don't think that sticking guns in the hands of a bunch of people who really don't want to fight is the answer, either. But if we're truly committed to the idea of national sacrifice, why should the majority of the sacrifice be borne by those already carrying the heaviest loads?

Fascinating column by Marc Fisher in today's Post offering a re-assessment of Jim Moran. Fisher has been one of Moran's harshest critics in the past, and while I wouldn't say he's become a fan, he does seem captivated by Moran's candid self-criticism in the wake of his outrageous incidents. And who wouldn't be charmed by a story like this:

Moran tells a story about the time a guy showed up at his house outside Boston to ask Moran's father to sign a petition protesting the arrival of a black family in the neighborhood. "My father hauled off and punched him in the nose -- knocked him off his feet," Moran recalls. "He was right, but he was wrong with his emotions."

"Just like my father, we're very emotional," Moran says. "I never considered myself a distinguished politician, because I'm not distinguished. I'm not a good fit here. I'm just a guy who leads with his emotions."

This is exactly why Moran is so hard to capture in one-dimensional portrait: he really can be charming and winning, and he's definitely in line with his district on the issues. He can be an ardent and eloquent advocate for his causes. And he seems reasonably self-aware for someone with such poor self-control at times. He's not stupid.

Fisher, I think, nails the problem on the head: "He is like the kid who is forever getting into trouble at school, but winningly admits his errors. You just wish he could stop messing up." If he's so good at realizing what he does wrong and when he's screwed up, why can't he stop himself?

It's the age-old problem with him. If he pigheadedly refused to admit that he ever did anything wrong, it would be easy to dismiss him as a raging jerk and toss him out on his ear. (This was the basic thesis of my post on Moran last year.) But if he's self-aware and genuinely remorseful for the things he does, what do you do with him? I think that at some point, intent matters less than actions, and Moran has to pay the price for stepping over the line, no matter how sorry he is. Fisher's column made Moran vastly more interesting as a person. But I'm still voting for Andy Rosenberg.

A moment of silence for columnist Mary McGrory, who passed away after a long illness at age 85. I always liked McGrory's writing, but I liked her even more after I found out that she was the Cleopatra of journalism:

McGrory could command senators to sing old hymns for her lasagna; her lawn boys went on to senior positions in government and journalism; and through nearly 50 years of covering politics she managed, by flirtation and intimidation, always to avoid schlepping her own suitcase.

There's a lady with clout, I tell you. We'll miss you, Mary.

Finally, Kevin Hayden from American Street weighs in on the idea of picking up dates at a women's-rights march:

If you offerred aromatherapeutic footbaths with foot massages and toenail painting at a women's rights march, I bet you'd find plenty of babes willing to forgive your transparent chauvinistic leanings and do the weegie-weegie with you.

Retention requires a 45 inch penis and a platinum Visa card with a $500,000 limit though.

I don't know whether to be delighted or depressed that my readers are funnier than I am.

That's all for today. Slop tomorrow!  ¶ 1:31 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Lulu's Back in Town" by Fats Waller

ANOTHER COMMENT TOUR

Hey there, everybody! Not feeling inspired to write about much of anything at the moment, so I thought I'd do what I usually do at times like this, and post up some comments for public inspection and discussion. Fortunately, I've received a few witty and perceptive comments, making this task all the easier. So let's get started!

Leading off, loyal reader Tripp took exception to my contention in Friday's post that "the kind of women who go to women's-rights marches are probably the kind of women who wouldn't take kindly to being hit on at such a march." Tripp had this to say in response:

Geez, Fred, no women anywhere wants to be hit on. But if you know what you are doing, a women's rights march is a great place to meet high quality women!

Unless they are lesbians, (which is fine), women *like* men. It is in their genes. The potential is always there. So where you meet them has little to do with hooking up, if you know what you are doing.

I concede that "hit on" is not the best phrasing, in that it implies a poor technique, calling to mind a greasy-haired hotshot who refers to all women as "babe" and thinks "So, do you have any raisins? How about a date?" qualifies as witty byplay. Indeed, the key phrase to Tripp's argument is "if you know what you are doing." If you know what you are doing, you're likely to have success wherever you go. If you don't know what you're doing, choice of venue isn't likely to help you much.

Still, I can't help thinking that trying to meet women at a woman's-rights march is a tad bit cynical, isn't it? Ladies, what do you think? Have you met anyone at a march? Feel free to weigh in below.

Next up, a couple comments on Monday's column about the Mike Danton case. Tripp responded to my cranky challenge to the gay-bashers, asking them if they felt at all to blame for Danton's actions:

I can't speak for gay-bashers, but I would expect that at least some of them would take that sad story and conclude that the gay 'lifestyle,' while certainly a choice, ultimately leads to tragedy. They would take no blame at all.

Tripp's right, of course. There are some people who probably think Danton got what he deserved for making the wrong "lifestyle choice." I just have trouble understanding how it is that people who have that position can claim to love all humanity. I suppose if you truly believe that homosexuality is a sin against God, rather than a biological inclination, you wouldn't have a problem reconciling your position. But it doesn't seem consistent to me.

Even if you do feel that homosexuality is a sin, is this the way you want to see it played out? Does it seem right for Danton to have to choose between career ruin and murder? If so... well, you and I have very different value systems, that's all I can say. (And I mean the general "you," not Tripp in particular. I don't mean to imply that he feels this way.)

We also have an update on Danton's case from our new man Frinklin over at Frinklin Speaks.

Have you followed the most recent Danton case revelations? Today in ESPN it came to light that his agent, David Frost, might have been the target. Furthermore, Frost has been banned from 2 junior leagues in Canada for "having a strong influence over a core of young players". This just keeps getting uglier.

I had heard something about this yesterday, actually. I've done a little background research on Frost, and it does seem that he's a deeply creepy character. I mean really creepy. Everywhere Frost has gone (and he's a pretty powerful influence in Canadian youth hockey), he's been trailed by accusations of wielding a "cult-like influence" over his players. Frost is definitely bad medicine by all accounts, and a troubled young player like Danton surely wasn't helped at all by having Frost around.

And I find it odd that, in every story discussing the accusations thrown at Frost, they always take pains to point out that Frost was never accused of doing anything "of a sexual nature" to his players. Methinks they doth protest too much. Sadly, accusations of sexual abuse are not unknown in Canadian youth hockey. (Anyone remember the Graham James case?

Jim Buzinski over at Out Sports looks at the evidence and concludes that Danton was a closeted homosexual. I don't like to rush to conclusions about anyone's personal life, but really, it's the only way the evidence we have so far adds up. (And incidentally, Buzinski's article is pretty funny... my favorite line describes the 19-year-old woman who helped Danton hire the hit man: "What a handy friend to have. I have friends who can fix my car, get me a cheap airline ticket or help me buy a laptop. But for the life of me, I can’t think of any who could, on a few hours notice, find me a hit man."

Finally, on the topic of friend-crushes, Tripp weighs in again. Friend-crushes usually come off as a sad story (they certainly did in Matt Brochu's article), but Tripp sees the happy side:

This happens to me all the time, and I'm certainly happy that I can now deal with it much better than before. In my youth, I could not handle it at all, and would avoid any such situation. A few years ago I decided to change that.

I should point out that I am happily married, intend to stay that way, and have never cheated on my wife (for 22 years)! But a few years ago I had the chance to work with a group of very attractive women. My choice was simple, be around them as a friend, or not at all.

I chose to be around them, and overall it is great! Have I had 'crushes?' Oh, yeah. Have I acted on them? Nope. The benefits are that I get to see and be around some great women, they are hot as hell, and this makes me even more attractive to other women! (See the pivot theory.) The downside is that I have to restrain myself, out of self-respect and respect for Mrs. Davenport, but that is not really so awful.

I've gotten more self-confidence, my libido has been kicked up a notch, and I've certainly been more cheerful!

So I highly recommend it! Women are to be enjoyed, and just because you are on a diet doesn't mean you can't read the menu!

Well said, Tripp! As you become older, I think you learn to deal better with friend-crushes, and put them in their proper perspective, as Tripp clearly has. A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone; in fact, it's a fairly affirmative sort of thing, and makes everyone feel better so long as no one takes it too seriously. The world is definitely better with women in it, as Tripp points out.

I think proper perspective on friend-crushes comes once you get settled in your own romantic life. Once you've figured out the person you'd like to spend your life with, and you're safely down that path, passing attractions to other women are just that: a little spice to liven up an otherwise dull daily routine. It's during those high-school and college years, when nothing is settled and you don't know what you want, that friend-crushes can be painful. That's what I remember from my experience.

It was high school, junior year. She wasn't the most beuatiful woman I'd ever met, but she was attractive in her own right. And she was smart, funny, sarcastic, romantic without being overly sentimental. She'd do anything for a friend, from lending money to spending an entire evening with someone who didn't want to be alone. We hit it off right away. Our senses of humor meshed, and we saw the softer side in each other that we tended to keep hidden. Sounds swell, right?

Only she was into college guys. She kept seeing one older guy after another, and of course I got to pick up the pieces every time things fell apart, as they often did. And in turn, she'd console me over my lack of success with the opposite sex. My running gag concerned my imaginary girlfriend. I kept her entertained by sharing stories of evenings curled up by my imaginary fireplace with my imaginary girlfriend. Around the holidays, I began telling her how my imaginary girlfriend and I were going to sit by the fire and sip eggnog. Good for a laugh.

Then, the last day before winter break, I walked into my first-period class and there on my desk was a quart of eggnog and a single red rose. No card. None was necessary.

Of course, she was seeing someone then (when wasn't she?). She was still seeing the same fellow on Valentine's Day, and when she came into first period that day, she wasn't her usual cheerful self. She was quiet, and kept dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She said she was fine, but when class ended she dashed out into the hall. I went out after her, and found her in a corner crying. I didn't say anything... I just wrapped my arms around her and held her. As she leaned into me, she explained that her clod of a boyfriend had dumped her on Valentine's Day, of all days. I told her she deserved better, much better. Then I held her some more.

I never fessed up to my feelings. I was an enormous coward in high school. C'est la vie. Like Tripp, I've gotten much better about these things since.

At any rate, that's all for today. See you tomorrow!  ¶ 3:04 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Dance to the Music" by Sly and the Family Stone

SGT. MILLIE'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND

Hello, everybody! Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice are back to share their outlook on life and romance with the rest of us suffering souls. Today's column was filed from San Diego, where our favorite couple has gone to check out the Padres' new Petco Park. I couldn't help thinking that today's column seems more affectionate than usual... have the two lovebirds managed to patch things up for good? Take a look and judge for yourself, as Mediocre Fred presents...

- - - - -

In the Spring A Young Man's Fancy Turns Lightly To Thoughts of Love and Fish Tacos, by Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice

UM: Hello, lads! Greetings from beautiful sun-soaked San Diego. At present, my lovely wife and I are watching the Padres play the Giants in a bar across the street from the fabulous-looking Petco Park.

AB: Now, some of you might be wondering why we're not watching the game from inside Petco Park. And that's because the game is in San Francisco. In a display of his usual brilliant planning, Uncle Millie cleverly got us to San Diego just in time for a Padres' road trip.

UM: A technical error, my dear. A mistake anyone could make.

AB: And a mistake no one else does seem to make, except you.

UM: My apologies. I simply read the schedule incorrectly.

AB: Perhaps this is because you read the schedule in between your 11th and 12th glasses of wine at Easter supper. Thank you also for embarrassing me completely at dinner.

UM: Ah, yes, I also wished to tell you lads about the lovely Easter celebration we had. We invited several members of Beatrice's family, and as many of my children as I could remember.

AB: It was a lovely dinner, marred only by the fact that, apparently, no one has ever explained to Uncle Millie that "So, did you get yourself some keister for Easter?" is not an appropriate question for the table.

UM: The ham, my dear. I was referring to the fact that we were eating the rear end of the ham.

AB: The accompanying hand gestures would suggest otherwise.

UM: Oh, come now, my dear, I was bonding with your family. A little randy talk among gentlemen is to be expected.

AB: So what's your excuse for asking my nephew? He's not a gentleman yet.

UM: Not technically, but he's old enough to understand the humor in it.

AB: Millie, he's 6.

UM: Um, well... why don't we get to the letters?

AB: Good idea. You can read the letter, and I'll keep an eye out to make sure we don't get hit by any foul balls.

UM: Droll, my dear. Very droll.

Dear Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice,

I'm 27, and I've been having trouble building a good relationship. Usually, things will go along fine for a month or two, then it will fizzle. And the girls I've dated almost always say the same thing: that I'm not romantic enough. I'm not sure what they mean by this. I mean, I'm not the type to go buy a girl a dozen roses on a whim, but it's not like I'm showing up for dates in ripped jeans and taking them to tractor pulls. So maybe you can help me. What does it mean when a woman wants you to "be more romantic," and what do I do about it?

Maurice in Cleveland

UM: Ah, lad, you've run smack-bang into one of the trickiest phrases in the female lexicon. And you've certainly come to the right place for guidance on this matter. Uncle Millie has had his share of these experiences, and after much painful trial and error, I've cracked the code. "Be more romantic" is woman-speak for "high-maintenance."

AB: Woman-speak?

UM: Yes, my dear. As a woman yourself, you grew up fluent in it, so I don't expect you to understand. But when a woman says, "I like a man who's romantic," she's really saying, "I'm more trouble than I'm worth."

AB: I see.

UM: What do you do about it, lad? Run! Get away from that woman as far and as fast as you can, and count your blessings that you figures her out before she could start hitting you up for really expensive things, like caviar and jewelry.

AB: Hi, Maurice. Uncle Millie is completely wrong, of course, but you must forgive him. When he opens his mouth, you see, that's Millie-speak for "I'm about to say something stupid." As he's just proven.

UM: Touche, my dear.

AB: Oh, now, you grew up fluent in this, so I don't expect you to understand. Maurice, if you want to know what she really means, it's very simple. A lot of guys, when they're dating, focus too much on the mechanics: where to go, what to talk about, how best to grope her breast when she's not looking. Someone at this bar behaves just this way.

UM: That fellow down on the end in the fisherman's hat nursing a whiskey sour, you mean?

AB: Yes, dear, of course it's him. At any rate, Maurice, if you focus too much on the mechanics, you miss the meaning. You have to make the woman feel special. It's like poetry: yes, you have to make sure the words fit the meter and that the rhymes work, but it also has to be beautiful and evocative. You're focusing too much on the words and not enough on the feeling.

UM: Ah, yes, poetry. Remember that, lad. Women like poetry. They think it's romantic. So I recommend you learn some. When picking poetry to learn, aim for the ones that have love and flowers in them, and avoid the ones that start "There once was a man from Nantucket." You and I know the latter are the best kind of poetry, but women don't find them romantic enough, for some reason.

AB: As usual, Uncle Millie completely misses the point. Romance isn't a checklist. It's an attitude. Different women find different things romantic. The key is to talk to your woman and really listen to her. See what she finds romantic. Find little ways to make her feel like she's the most important person in your life. Romance is a very personal and individual thing.

UM: Candy and flowers usually do the trick.

AB: Once again, Uncle Millie proves that he wouldn't know romance if it dumped its Cosmopolitan in his lap.

UM: Oh, my dear, I don't know what you're talking ab- Hey!

AB: Oops.

UM: Bartender! Another Cosmopolitan for the lady, and a napkin for my lap. Thank you.

Dear Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice,

I'm 36, recently divorced, and I've had, shall we say, a steady stream of women friends visiting my apartment lately. This is not a problem. The problem is my next-door neighbor. For whatever reason, she's decided that my personal life is bothering her. I don't really know why; I'm always discreet and don't make too much noise at odd hours. But she's decided that I'm doing something wrong, I guess, and has elected to sabotage me. Like if she sees one of my dates about to knock on my door, she'll say something like, "Gee, you don't look anything like the girl who was here last night," or "So, what's it like dating an alcoholic?" or "I hope you don't find out about his violent side." Things like that. She does this with most of the women I have over.

My question: Is it permissible to have her killed?

Rick in Half Moon Bay

AB: Hi, Rick. Sorry to hear about your situation. It sounds like you're long overdue to sit down and have a talk with your neighbor. Explain to her that you don't think it's right for her to do this, and ask her why she does it. Is it possible she thinks you're still married? Sometimes women will stand up for each other if they think a member of the sisterhood is being wronged. I know I would.

UM: Oh, lad, my sympathies are with you. I've had a similar experience myself. I once had a neighbor who waited on her front porch for my dates to come by, and shouted out "Whatever you do, don't let him take you into the basement!" It was quite an irritation. As it turned out, my neighbor was jealous. She wanted to see me herself.

AB: Of course she did.

UM: At any rate, I've checked the statutes, and it's not legal to dispatch your neighbor. It should be, though.

AB: This from the man who's been shot at by more angry husbands and boyfriends than he can remember.

UM: That's to be expected. It's territorial warfare. This sabotage of the neighbor's is a guerrilla tactic. It has no place on the battlefield of love.

AB: War is hell, isn't it?

UM: Aye, my love. It certainly is.

Dear Aunt Beatrice,

I'm a loyal reader, and I've noticed that we have plenty of information about Uncle Millie and his past, but not very much about you. So tell us a little bit about yourself. Where do you come from? How old are you? Have you been married before? Do you have children? Do you have any interesting life stories? How did you meet Uncle Millie? What do you see in him? Any information you wish to give would be much appreciated. Thanks for your great advice! Don't let Uncle Millie wear you down!

Aunt Beatrice Fan in Baxter Springs

AB: Oh, well, thank you very much. Is that you, Mom?

UM: Surely not, my dear. Just someone who thinks highly of you. Just like myself.

AB: Well, whoever it is, I appreciate you writing in. You're very kind. So, what can I tell you about me? Well, I was born in Buffalo, New York. I grew up watching movies at the old Shea's Theater on Main Street. How old am I? Well, they say a lady never tells, so I'll just say that I'm "of a certain age."

UM: "A certain age" in this case being 46.

AB: Thank you so much.

UM: You said a lady never tells her age. Didn't say anything about her husband.

AB: Uncle Millie sure is something, isn't he, folks? I was married once before -- my former husband passed away in a car accident -- and I've never had children, although I've tried to be a sort of surrogate mother for Uncle Millie's brood, since most of them have mothers who are, to be kind, somewhat troubled.

UM: She has the right of it, lads. I've had a great many crazy women in my life. My beloved Beatrice is surely not one of those.

AB: Well, thank you. My life stories aren't that interesting, although I used to work at a shelter for stray animals, and I'll bet a lot of those animals would have told fascinating stories if they could talk. I've also done some social work, so I suppose you could say that I like to help everyone on the margins of society. Which explains my relationship with Uncle Millie.

UM: Go on, my dear, tell them how we met.

AB: Well, Uncle Millie had passed out on my front lawn after a night of heavy drinking, and I went out to see if he was all right. He looked up and said, "Am I dead? Is this heaven? If it is, the angels are even prettier than I thought." Which, I'll admit, was a touching line.

UM: Especially from a man battling a truly brutal hangover. Talk about performing under pressure!

AB: And that, I suppose, explains what I see in him. He has his share of flaws -- more than his share, really -- but in spite of himself, he knows how to be really romantic when he wants to be. And despite significant evidence to the contrary, he has a good heart. He comes off as a clod a lot of the time, but deep down, he isn't.

UM: That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, my dear.

AB: Anyway, I guess that's all there is to know about me.

UM: Not at all, lad. She's not told you the whole story. She's not told you how she's still as beautiful and kind today as she seemed to my fevered vision that morning on her lawn.

AB: Oh, Millie, that's sweet.

UM: And let me tell you, lad, there aren't many women who'll stick around if you throw up on them at your first meeting. I have significant experience in this regard. My Beatrice is one of the few who did.

AB: That's, um, nice too. I think.

UM: So she may try to tell you she's nothing special, but it's not true. She's the most special woman I know.

AB: Millie-

UM: Now, granted, she's not as flexible as she used to be, which can create certain problems in bed-

AB: And once again, Uncle Millie's diarrhea of the mouth ruins a perfectly beautiful moment. He is who he is.

UM: And you love it, too, don't you?

AB: Say good night, Millie.

UM: Good night, Millie. Happy hunting!

- - - - -

Thank you, Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice. See, aren't those crazy kids something special? Look for them again in this space in two weeks.

Let me send a shout-out to the newest addition to my blogroll, Frinklin Speaks. He's a new kid on the block, but I like his sense of humor and his love of baseball. He's a Mariners fan, which is all right in my book. Give him a look and tell him Mediocre Fred sent you.

That's all for today. See you tomorrow!  ¶ 1:17 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Get It While You Can" by Janis Joplin

ON LOVE AND OPENNESS

Good day, all. Today I'm wrapped up in a rather bizarre story that broke over the weekend, the Mike Danton case. For those who haven't heard, Danton is a defenseman for the St. Louis Blues. He was arrested for attempting to hire a hitman to kill someone with whom he was having a rocky relationship. It's a very bizarre and sad story, but the saddest part of all is that Danton may have done what he did to conceal his homosexuality. If so, this story goes from strange to tragic, and illustrates exactly what's wrong with persecuting people based on who they love.

I happened to catch the headline by chance on Friday night, and the blurb said something about Danton ordering a hit on someone with whom he'd had "a romantic relationship gone awry." I didn't examing the story all that closely, and I assumed that Danton's target was a woman. I passed the story on to a friend, and I believe I said something like, "I've had some crazy girlfriends before, but geez..." Good for a laugh on a Friday night.

My outlook on the story changed when I read King Kaufman's column this morning in Salon. (As usual with Salon, you have to be a subscriber or click through an ad to read.) Kaufman had read an account of the story that made it clear that the target was a man, but avoided all mention of a romantic link between the men. Kaufman put two and two together and concluded that the man was Danton's gay lover.

Take a look at some passage from the news story and Kaufman's conclusion seems probable:

The complaint alleges that Danton was trying to kill a male acquaintance whom he had fought with Tuesday over Danton's "promiscuity and use of alcohol." The complaint said Danton feared the acquaintance, who is not identified, would talk to Blues management and ruin Danton's career...

Though the affidavit is vague, the complaint states that Danton broke into tears when the male acquaintance confronted him about the alleged murder plot. It also states that Danton "felt the acquaintance was going to leave him"...

Danton, formerly known as Mike Jefferson, has been estranged from his family for some time and changed his name to Danton in the summer of 2002.

Danton's break from his family is just part of his reportedly turbulent personal background and the current complaint has prompted speculation into the nature of his relationship with the alleged target.

Kaufman points out in his column that most of us don't break into tears at the thought of acquaintances "leaving us," and that revelations of "promsicuity and use of alcohol" wouldn't ruin anyone's career. But if the man was Danton's lover, then it all fits. It's easy to imagine Danton thinking that being publicly outed would ruin his career. And while there are plenty of reasons why someone might have a falling out with his family, homosexuality is certainly one possibility.

If this interpretation of the story is true, pause to think for a minute just how sad that is. Having already fallen out with his family over his sexual preferences, now his lover threatens to take the story public. Danton fears that his career, probably the best thing he has going for him, would be in jeopardy. He's so afraid of this, in fact, that he'd commit murder in order to prevent himself from being outed. All this just because he loves men. Kaufman put it quite succinctly: "It's possible that Danton decided that it was worth killing to avoid being outed. That would be a pretty clear statement about how damaging a place the closet can be."

So are you happy now, gay bashers? Do you feel satisfied, religious zealots? Does this make you feel good, repressed America? Is this what you want? Do you want people in Danton's position to have to choose between career suicide and murder? Do you want gay people to live miserable, cramped lives, to live in fear, to never enjoy the bliss of open romance that the rest of us take for granted? Do you want people like Danton to suffer terrible fates just because they happen to love someone who's not on the societally-approved list? Does that make you feel better about yourselves? Does Danton's story help you sleep better at night?

If your answer is "yes," then I really have nothing to say to you. I can't help but wonder about the sort of twisted value system that causes you to endorse the denial of someone else's humanity just because of their sexual preference, but I'm sure you have your reasons. Fine. But we're not really going to be able to converse about this, because we are standing on entirely different philosophical planes.

If Danton's story does make you uncomfortable, though, I'd ask you to reflect a minute on the lesson in that. Think about the human cost of our insistence on repression for the sake of some hazy societal benefit. Assuming that there even is a societal benefit to imposing male-female pairings on people who aren't interested in them.

I feel strongly about this, because I understand love. And I feel a personal connection here, too. I'm not gay, but I do love The Smart Lady. Because she and I are of different races, I know that had this happened a few decades before in this country, our relationship would have been strongly disapproved, if not out-and-out illegal. I know how I'd feel if someone told me I couldn't have a relationship with The Smart Lady because of who she was, so I'm strongly disinclined to tell anyone else who they should and shouldn't love. If we're going to do that, we'd better have a damned good reason. And the theoretical societal benefit isn't reason enough.

Kaufman sees reason for hope in this terrible story. He notes that several of Danton's teammates have come forward to say that if he is gay, they'd have no problem with that. This is a heartening sign of progress in the athletic world. And Kaufman hopes that perhaps Danton's story may help some other player to realize that the cost of silence is just too damaging, and that he'd be better off revealing the truth about his preferences. I hope Kaufman's right, because if that does happen, at least something positive will have come out of all this.

End of rant. Sorry to be so preachy, but I couldn't help it. I'll be back to trivial fluff mode in no time.

Great article in today's Post about friend-crushes, those painful situations where one half of a Platonic pair secretly wishes for more, but doesn't speak up for fear of ruining the friendship. A student at UMass named Matt Brochu wrote about it in the college paper, and the response was overwhelming. And why wouldn't it be? It's an experience many people (especially high-school and college-age people) have, but it's seldom discussed. I've had a friend-crush or two in my time, and the story rings true from my perspective.

Has this happened to you? If it has, feel free to leave a comment describing your experience. I know you've just been dying to get it off your chest, and you're among friends here, in this cozy little corner of cyberspace. Let's talk.

All right, enough for today. Tomorrow, more on the love theme, as Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice return to share their unique spin on the subject. See you tomorrow!  ¶ 1:27 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Paradise By the Dashboard Light" by Meat Loaf

IT'S FRIDAY, AND I'M TRIPP-IN'

Good day, all! Today I want to spotlight a theory of politics and parenting, offered up by loyal reader Tripp. Tripp's always good at adding to a discussion, and his theory is a useful supplement to my discussion on Iraq from Tuesday. In that piece, I made the following comment about Bush's Iraq defenders: "These people seem to envision our role in the world as parental, and specifically the kind of parent who enforces discipline via the paddle in the closet." Tripp took my comment and ran with it:

Now, regarding how US citizens view the US - I think a simple way to separate Republicans vs Democrats is how they view proper parenting style. Republicans champion the 'Stern Father' approach, and Democrats champion the 'Nurturing Parents' approach. Feel free to project that model onto their religion and politics as you wish.

He expanded on this in a later comment:

If you look at the tone of how we relate to the world, you'll see a stern parent chastizing and disciplining (with force) his errant children. Is it a wonder that doesn't sit well with our "children?"

We had a local incident years ago where a good family had a rebellious teen and tried discipline, then strict discipline, then finally "tough love."

Sadly, David Brom, the teen, killed his entire family (including his younger brother and sister) with an axe one night. His older brother, living outside the house, was spared. David is spending life in prison.

I've probably pushed the analogy farther than it should be pushed, but there sure seem to be some lessons there.

Good stuff, Tripp. I imagine some libertarian-oriented Republicans would accuse Tripp of painting with too broad a brush, but I think he's on target, particularly as regards this administration. Their motto might as well be "We Know What's Best For You." Think the tax cuts are bad economic policy? You're too young to understand. Think Cheney's Halliburton dealings are shady? It's not your place to ask questions. Why do Bush and Cheney have to go before the 9/11 commission together? Because they said so.

The "Stern Father" analogy is particularly useful when applied to Iraq. We're going to go in and organize a government for the people of Iraq, because we know what's best for them. They may rebel at first, but in the end they'll realize we're right. It amounts to a paternalistic attitude that we used to associate with colonialism, before that went out of fashion. Somewhere, Rudyard Kipling is mumbling about "the white man's burden" even as we speak.

I think the David Brom case is definitely food for thought... if we respond to rebellion in Iraq by cracking down harder and harder, it seems probable that sooner or later the situation will snap, and things will get really ugly. The administration seems to think, as it often has, that once we convince the rebels that we're tough enough, they'll back down. Well, it strikes me that they already know we're tough. After all, we just steamrolled their country. The problem is convincing the rebels, and the population of Iraq generally, that our intentions are good, and that we want to help Iraq recover and grow, not place it under our imperialist yoke.

The White House seems to think that most of the Iraqi population thinks that we're the good guys here, and that once we stamp out the rabble-rousers, everyone else will fall in line and do what we want them to. (The Iraqi population, in this formulation, is like Richard Nixon's "Silent Majority" on Vietnam.) But I see no reason to believe this is true. Plenty of Iraqis, perhaps even most, are glad Saddam is gone. But that doesn't mean they're all that much happier to see us. We envision ourselves as the guys in the white hats, John Wayne riding in to save the day. But you'll have to forgive the Iraqis if they're a little slow to pick up the connection; I don't imagine that Westerns are part of their cultural lore.

Triyng to create a better life for oppressed people is a good and noble cause. Forcing our notion of a better life on them is considerably less noble. I think we dramatically overestimated the degree to which Iraqis would either see our inherent goodness or be so grateful to us for toppling Saddam that they'd listen to us. We didn't prepare adequately for the resistance we've encountered and will continue to encounter. And if we intend to solve the problem by waving the paddle at them and telling them to behave or else... well, that's not going to end well.

What do the rest of you think of Tripp's theory? Is he on to something? Leave your comments below. We'll get you that MacArthur "genius grant" yet, Tripp.

Incidentally, take a look at this headline in Salon: "Powell leads offensive to placate Arabs." If "offensive" was the AP's own word choice, they really should find a less loaded term. If the term "offensive" was the Bush administration's idea... well, we're in even bigger trouble than I figured.

Speaking of word choice: Last night I was headed home and encountered a man and a woman at the Metro station handing out flyers for a women's-rights march. "Come to the women's-rights march," they said. "Big women's-rights march in Washington next week." Not too many people were taking the flyers, so the woman handing them out decided to alter her sales pitch. "Great place to meet women!" she said. "Gonna be lots of women there."

Now, it occurs to me that the kind of women who go to women's-rights marches are probably the kind of women who wouldn't take kindly to being hit on at such a march. The Smart Lady suggested that the incident reminded her of Chris Rock's line about going to abortion-rights marches to pick up loose women. If there are any guys who heard the woman's pitch and decide to give it a shot: Let me know how that works out for you.

All right, time to start rolling downhill toward the weekend. See you Monday!  ¶ 1:23 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen

IS MLB READY TO BREAK OUT A NEW JERSEY?

Hey there, everyone. Today we have a little baseball news. Specifically, the state of New Jersey is looking to attract a major-league club to the Meadowlands area. Reportedly, Jersey is in serious talk with the Commissioner's Office to bring a team (not the Expos) to town. No word yet on who'd be footing the stadium bill, but early indications suggest that the state is willing to pick up the tab.

Unsurprisingly, the Yankees (who have flirted, off and on, with threatening to move to Jersey for decades) have vowed to use their territorial rights to block any team in Jersey. (Oddly, the Mets have yet to make any mention of this, and the Yanks' territorial rights, as I understand them, would not bar a National League club.) But let's lay aside the Yankees for a second. Would a third team in the New York area be good for baseball? I'd say the answer's a definite yes.

Let's start with the demographics, which speak for themselves. The New York metropolitan area has approximately 20 million people in it. Divide that pie three ways, and the New Jersey Bosses (or whatever they'd be called) have a fan base on nearly 7 million people to work with, more by far than any other expansion or relocation possibility. (More, also, than any team in baseball now, except the Dodgers and Angels.) Even if we assume (reasonably) that New Jersey would claim a smaller share of the pie than the Yanks and Mets, we're still looking at 5-million-plus, which is considerably more than any other potential relocation city.

But won't the Bosses cause a sharp decline in Yankees and Mets attendance? No. Travis Nelson over at Boy of Summer did a rather exhaustive study of this, with charts and everything, and showed that increasing or decreasing the number of teams in a given metropolitan area doesn't really affect the other teams in the area, attendance-wise. Look at his first chart, about New York, and you'll see the rather amazing fact that, the year after the Dodgers and Giants left, Yankees attendance declined. And if you look at the historical attendance figures for both the Yankees and Mets, you'll see pretty quickly that the primary determining factor of attendance is winning percentage. When the Yankees were so-so in the '80s, fans didn't come. When they started racking up championships in the mid-'90s, fans started showng up. Same deal with the Mets: when they were hot in the late '80s, the fans came. When they collapsed in the '90s, fans found better things to do. Oddly enough, fans like to see winning baseball. Who would have guessed?

In general, fans that have a strong team allegiance are going to stick with that team, even if another team comes along that's closer to home. Diehard Orioles fans in Washington wouldn't give them up for the new Senators. And the casual fan that might switch... well, odds are they weren't going to that many games in Baltimore anyway. Are the Orioles so weak that they couldn't fill their parks with Baltimore residents and loyal fans in the vicinity? That goes double for the Yankees, who could undoubtedly fill the park even if there was a team in each of the five boroughs.

The Yankees' vehement anti-Jersey stance, I think, stems less from attendance than from broadcasting. You've heard, I trust, of the YES network? If you haven't, that's the Yankees' cable-TV venture, the network that carries their games. The Yankees' attendance may not be affected much by a team in New Jersey, but their cable empire might. (The Mets don't have a network like YES, which may be why they're not leading the complaining.)

Does the Yankees' concern have merit? Possibly. There aren't any test cases to look at for this, as far as I know, but it does seem possible that another team's broadcasts might cut into the ratings for YES a bit. Although if they can survive the Mets, they ought to be able to survive the Bosses too.

And even if the YES ratings take a tumble, so what? What did the Yankees do to earn the New York market? They just happen to play there, and there happen to be a lot of people living there. The Yankees did not earn a massive home fan base on merit. It's an accident of history. And had the West Coast not beckoned, the Yankees might still be facing two other teams in their market.

But what about George Steinbrenner? He bought in when the Yankees had only one competitor in their market. Doesn't he deserve to keep that? Well, let me tell you a story about George Steinbrenner. See, he bought into the Yankees in 1973 (claiming, by the way, that he'd be an "absentee owner"). But the Yankees weren't his first target. Steinbrenner lived in Cleveland at the time, and he had just attempted to purchase the Indians, but lost out to another buyer. So the next time Steinbrenner behaves like owning the Yankees was some sort of birthright, remember that he was one last-minute bid from owning the Cleveland Indians. (Wouldn't that have been fun?)

So, in short, the Bosses might cut the profit margin of the Yankees and Mets somewhat, but it's not going to drive either team into financial ruin. Or, at least, any financial ruin that the Yankees and Mets encounter as a result is their own fault. (And since when did captialism guarantee you a failure-proof market?)

So if we accept that a New Jersey team wouldn't do irreparable damage to the Yankees and Mets, can we then conclude that it's good for baseball? In at least one obvious way, yes: revenue sharing. The vast difference in revenue between the rich and poor teams in MLB is well-documented. Assuming that you want to make the picture more even, there are three viable options:

(1) Fold the struggling teams or relocate them to better markets.
(2) Impose a socialistic revenue-sharing model.
(3) Find a way to cut the revenues of the top teams.

Economically speaking, the first route is likely to work better when there are a couple teams doing significantly worse than the rest. Conversely, the third method works better when there are a handful of teams that are doing vastly better than the rest. Well, take a look at this chart. This places the differences in stark relief. The net-worth chart is particularly staggering: The difference between the most valuable team (the Yankees) and the next-most valuable team (the Red Sox) is greater than the difference between the Red Sox and the 21st-most-valuable team (the Tigers). While there are a couple teams that are clearly struggling worse than most, the big gulf is at the top. And wouldn't you know it? Two of the richest teams happen to be in the same market.

While some good old socialistic revenue-sharing is definitely in order, the best and most immediate step that MLB could take to level the playing field would be to reduce the value of the Yankees somehow. And wouldn't a team in Jersey do just that? (Note to Red Sox fans: If I thought a second team could work in Boston, I'd be coming for you next. You'd better stop playing the sad violins before the rest of baseball catches on.)

Of course, before we pack the next team of suffering suckers off to the Jersey swamps, it might be worth pondering whether a team would actually succeed there. Papa Shaft doesn't think so. He says that Jersey is one big strip of overgrown suburban sprawl, and that a New York team would do much better in a more urbanized setting with character. Such as Brooklyn. I think he's right on the theory... putting the team in Brooklyn instead of Jersey strikes me as the equivalent of putting a team in downtown DC over Dot-Com Canyon. The problem is that Shea Stadium is less than 5 miles away from Brooklyn. I can't help but think that the Mets would scream bloody murder, and rightly so. Also, Brooklyn and Flushing are both on Long Island, whereas Jersey is across the Hudson from both the Yanks and Mets. This may seem inconsequential to you and me, but native New Yorkers I know swear that ersey and the five boroughs are separate worlds. I'd rather see a team in Brooklyn, but I think Jersey's a more practical choice.

(Historical note: When Walter O'Malley was threatening to move the Dodgers out of Brooklyn, the city offered him the site on which Shea now stands. Not sure this proves anything, but worth mentioning.)

So what's the future for New Jersey? I don't think they'll get a team any time soon. Too many objections to overcome. However, I can see a definite alternate possibility... New Jersey might become the new designated relocation threat. For the better part of three decades now, Washington has been the primary city that struggling teams have used as leverage to pry a stadium deal out of the cities they're in. Threaten to move to, say, Louisville, and the city will laugh at you. Threaten to move to DC, and now you're in business.

Problem is, DC's patience is running out. Like Tampa and Denver and others before us, we're tired of being played for suckers. Basically, if we don't get the Expos, we give up. (Or, more accurately, we'll start hiring lawyers and making noises about baseball's antitrust exemption.) MLB senses this... they know that either they need to give DC a team or quit giving us that come-hither look. With DC out of the picture, MLB needs a new credible threat in order to keep the stadium squeeze going. Portland's only moderately impressive. San Juan doesn't scare anyone. Vegas is too small. Charlotte doesn't want to play. But Jersey... ah, now you've got something. It's too strong a possibility to ignore. And most important, threatening to move to Jersey is much easier than actually putting a team there.

So congratulations, New Jersey. You're MLB's new patsy. Get ready for a couple decades of false starts, near-misses and hard feelings. Clear space on your walls for all the memorabilia from relocation and expansion drives that invariably come to nothing. Get ready to plunk down season-ticket deposits for all the teams that don't come. Enjoy!

That's all for today. Back tomorrow!
  ¶ 1:16 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Here's Johnny" by Weird Al Yankovic

LOOKING OUT FOR NUMBER TWO

Hello again, all. Last night I stumbled upon the Washington Post Veep-O-Matic, a fairly silly name for a tool which allows you to compare John Kerry's potential running mates. This was sort of interesting in and of itself, but more interesting was the list of candidates they chose. It's a rather extensive list. Reading through it, I thought it might be time to unveil another analysis of the vice-presidential field. The Post's list includes a few possibilities I neglected to consider last time I wrote about this, or the time before that.

So, without further ado, I present Part Three of my exclusive analysis of Kerry's potential picks for right-hand man (r woman, as biology dictates).

Joseph Biden
Senator, Delaware

Would make a good VP because... He's got a strong record on international affairs, including his current position as ranking Democrat on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. He's a fairly strong partisan, and will no be reluctant to make the kind of speeches necessary to fire up the base. He speaks well. And as Democrats go, he's a pretty big name.

But... If Kerry's planning to make a choice based on geography, Biden wouldn't be much help. More importantly, there's the matter of Biden's own presidential bid going down in flames in '88. The plagiarism charges that drove Biden from the race seem almost quaint in today's age of scandal, but to the degree that anyone remembers the Biden campaign, the memory goes something like, "Biden was doing fine, then something bad happened and he had to drop out." This could be a problem in particular if journalists (very sensitive to plagiarism charges these days) go after this. Biden's vocal partisanship also limits his crossover appeal.

Outlook: Pretty good. Biden's a safe choice, and he's unlikely to do something that would embarrass the campaign. Also, if something happened to Kerry, Biden would be a very capable replacement. Not a very daring pick, though.

Carol Moseley Braun
Former senator, Illinois

Would make a good VP because... She's a black woman! And, um... I'm not trying to be snide, but didn't her presidential campaign essentially boil down to this? She does have foreign experience from her term as ambassador to New Zealand, but she rarely if ever brought this up.

But... Her one term in the Senate was plagued by scandal, the kind of scandal that Kerry would surely prefer to avoid. Her name recognition is very low. And her tendency to turn debates into Auntie Carol's story time would look particularly weak against Cheney. Oh, yeah, and when she dropped out she endorsed Howard Dean.

Outlook: Very long shot.

Wesley Clark
Retired Army General

Would make a good VP because... It would make my dad happy. And, um... he has military experience. And he's pleasant to listen to.

But... His presidential campaign was primarily notable for his cluelessness as a candidate. He has zero political experience. He seems indifferent or ignorant on domestic issues. And it's not like Kerry needs someone with a chestful of medals to give him credibility.

Outlook: Definitely a long shot. In retrospect, wouldn't a Dean-Clark ticket have been a disaster?

Tom Daschle
Senator, South Dakota

Would make a good VP because... He's a strong partisan who would fire up the base. He has plenty of political experience. And he's a big name.

But... His Senate seat is up for re-election this year, and he faces a tough battle which he needs to focus on. Also, the Bush/Cheney team no doubt has plenty of material gathered for him. And his partisanship would probably turn off moderate voters.

Outlook: Not so good. If he wasn't up for re-election, he'd have a decent shot. But then, if he wasn't up for re-election, he'd probably have run for president.

Dianne Feinstein
Senator, California

Would make a good VP because... She has plenty of Senate experience, and she's a pretty big name. She has a good reputation for legislative achievement, and she speaks reasonably well. Also, she is a woman, in case the pronoun didn't tip you off.

But... A Massachusetts liberal and a California liberal on the same ticket? It's almost too easy for the Bush-Cheney team. In particular, her gun-control advocacy would hurt her in the red states.

Outlook: Her credentials are solid, but practically, it's not likely. Too easy a ticket to pigeonhole.

Bob Kerrey
Former Senator, Nebraska

Would make a good VP because... He has a strong record of foreign-policy experience, including his current work on the 9/11 commission. He's independent-minded... witness his famously testy relationship with Bill Clinton. He's from the Midwest, which could be geographically advantageous. And he's a forceful speaker.

But... Running for vice-president might cause problems for the 9/11 commission. Also, portions of Kerrey's Vietnam record are controversial, and that could turn into a major scandal. Also, he's said to have something of a temper, and an outburst on the trail could create problems for the campaign.

Outlook: So-so. They'd be better if he weren't on the commission.

Dennis Kucinich
Representative, Ohio

Would make a good VP because... He's from Ohio! And some women find him cute. He'd also limit the Nader defections.

But... He's awfully far to the left. His combover is awful. He's an easy target for mockery. He has zero crossover appeal. I could go on.

Outlook: Oh, please.

Mary Landrieu
Senator, Louisiana

Would make a good VP because... She's a centrist, which should help the ticket to appeal to moderates. She's a woman, which should help the appeal to feminists. She's from a state that would really help Kerry if he could win it. And boy, is she a fox! I mean, have you seen her? She's red-hot!

But... It's not as though she's been winning Louisiana by landslide margins, and in her last campaign she went out of her way to emphasize her support for Bush's policies. Could she really help Kerry win Louisiana?

Outlook: Pretty good. And boy, am I hoping it breaks this way. Think we could get Roll Call to put in a centerfold?

John Lewis
Representative, Georgia

Would make a good VP because... He's a big and influential name in the black community. He's a very strong speaker with a lot of worthwhile stories about his experiences in the civil-rights movement. He might help Kerry win in the South through his ties to the black community. He's a strong Democrat, and he can't stand Bush.

But... He's extrremely liberal, and would probably turn off moderates, especially in the Midwest. Odds are, he'd hurt the ticket more than help it.

Outlook: Definitely a long shot.

Joe Lieberman
Senator, Connecticut

Would make a good VP because... He appeals to moderates and conservatives, thanks to his center-right stances on national defense and cultural issues. He's pretty well-known. He's very likeable.

But... Zzzzzzzzz... huh? What? Oh, sorry. He's not a notably charismatic guy, and he doesn't exactly warm the hearts of the Democratic base. Also, it's not like he set the world afire during his last vice-presidential stint.

Outlook: Not so good. Picking Lieberman seems like a good way to call to mind 2000, which Kerry would surely not want to do.

Blanche Lincoln
Senator, Arkansas

Would make a good VP because... She's from the South, which could help Kerry there. She's well-known for pushing to make the child tax credit refundable for low-income families, which could help bolster Kerry's appeal to the working class.

But... She's opposed to the Brady Bill, which could hurt her among party regulars. And she's up for re-election this fall.

Outlook: So-so. Democrats would probably prefer to keep the Senate seat.

Janet Napolitano
Governor, Arizona

Would make a good VP because... She's from a swing state, and her possible appeal to the Southwest could be a big boost to Kerry.

But... She's not exactly a big name. She has little political experience and no Washington experience. And her strongly pro-NAFTA attitude could hurt Kerry in the Midwest.

Outlook: Not so good. If Kerry wants a female candidate, or someone from a swing state, or both, there are better choices out there.

Robert Rubin
Former Treasury Secretary

Would make a good VP because... He has a sterling economic reputation, earning raves for his performance in the Clinton administration and winning a deficit-hawk rep that could help Kerry in his attacks on Bush's economic policies. He's regarded as a steady person and a good administrator.

But... Does he even want the job? He tended to stay out of the political world as much as he could while in Washington. I certainly can't picture him on the stump. And he seems happy in New York.

Outlook: Long shot, if only because he wouldn't be likely to accept the job.

Kathleen Sebelius
Governor, Kansas

Would make a good VP because... She's from the Midwest, making her geographically desirable. She has a political pedigree (both she and her husband are the children of congressmen). And she did win the governor's chair in a stong Republican state.

But... Kansas is so reliably Republican that she almost certainly wouldn't help Kerry win there. And apparently, she pissed off Missouri with some snide remark when she was running for governor. Actually, the remark was "the roads in Missouri are much more terrifying to me than the attacks on the World Trade Center because I really did think my life was far more at risk," which not only insults Missouri but would make for some very damaging Bush-Cheney commercials. Also, who the heck is she?

Outlook: A definite long shot. That World Trade Center comment is a big ouchie.

Jeanne Shaheen
Former Governor, New Hampshire

Would make a good VP because... She was elected governor three times in a swing state. She was a key organizer of the Kerry campaign in New Hampshire, before the Kerry campaign was cool. She's a good speaker and can hold her own in debate.

But... She did lose her bid for the Senate against John Sununu in '02. She has no Washington experience and, by extension, no foreign-policy experience. And if Kerry's seeking geographic balance, he's not likely to pick a fellow Northeasterner.

Outlook: Pretty good. Shaheen would be a very solid choice, and she wouldn't be a conventional choice. Kerry could do a lot worse.

Donna Shalala
Former Health and Human Services Secretary

Would make a good VP because... She has experience in health-care issues, which would help Kerry if he wanted to make those a theme. She's currently president of the University of Miami (in a swing state) and she's a former chancellor of the University of Wisconsin (another swing state). She has Washington experience (she served in the Carter and Clinton administrations).

But... Did anyone think of her as presidential timber when she was in Washington? No slight intended to her time in the Cabinet, but she seems happier in academia.

Outlook: Not so good. She'd be a good Cabinet pick, though.

Al Sharpton
Gadfly, New York

Would make a good VP because... Uh... he's fun to listen to.

But... Where to begin? Zero crossover appeal, weird haircut, reputation as a troublemaker, Tawana Brawley, never won an election at any level... need I go on?

Outlook: Let's pretend the Post never suggested this.

Tom Vilsack
Governor, Iowa

Would make a good VP because... He might have appeal in the Midwest. He's active in the National Governors' Association, which has given him a national profile. He's pushed aggressively to improve the job base in Iowa, which gives him a credible platform to speak about employment issues. Vilsack's wife, Christy, endorsed Kerry during the Iowa caucuses, and there's a sense that Kerry owes something to the Vilsacks. Also, the governor's reportedly a nice guy.

But... No one's ever accused Vilsack of being a riveting speaker. He doesn't bring a great deal of charisma to the ticket. He has no Washington experience. Kerry should be able to win Iowa without Vilsack's help. Also, he seems to be very fond of Iowa and might not want to leave.

Outlook: So-so. Vilsack's a steady choice, but not very daring or high-wattage.

Mark Warner
Governor, Virginia

Would make a good VP because... He's a Democrat with proven ability to win Republican votes, as he did in winning the governor's chair in an increasingly Republican state. His ability to reach out to rural voters is particularly impressive for a millionaire from Alexandria. He's a business-oriented moderate, which should play well with swing voters. He's a fairly likeable guy. If he could help Kerry capture Virginia, or other upper-South states, that would be a big boost. And if the tax plan passes, he has a very impressive capstone achievement to point to: passing tax increases through a hostile legislature in a famously conservative state.

But... He's not a compelling speaker. He hasn't shown any great aptitude for persuading people to support his policies. If the tax plan fails, he doesn't have any great legislative accomplishments to point to. He has little political experience and no Washington experience. And if Kerry's looking for a Democratic attack dog, a bland centrist like Warner isn't going to fill the bill.

Outlook: So-so. If the tax plan passes, upgrade him to pretty good. If it fails, downgrade him to long-shot status.

How is that tax plan doing, by the way? Well, the House passed a plan calling for $750 million or so in new revenue over the next two-year cycle. The ball is now in the Senate's court, where they don't looked inclined to pass it as is. They'll probably make some changes, changes that are likely to increase the tax hikes a bit. They do seem willing to talk about it, though, which is good.

The majority that passed the House bill was pretty slender and fragile, so the Senate needs to be careful about how much tinkering they do. Still, I can feel a solution appearing on the horizon, and that's good for the state. Definite kudos to the Senate for their desire so seek a long-term solution, rather than just monkeying with the numbers to make it work for this cycle.

That's all for today. Something else tomorrow. See you then!  ¶ 1:40 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Bend Me, Shape Me" by American Breed

PONDERING AN EXIT STRATEGY

Hello there, all. I'm feeling marginally better today, better enough to tackle a subject with some heft. So today I'm going to take a look at Iraq. This line of thinking was based on a conversation I had with Papa Shaft and the Mad Prophet over dinner last weekend. My memory is a little hazy as to who said exactly what, so if I've accidentally garbled some of their points, I apologize.

The subject up for debate at the dinner was how the US should go about administering Iraq and engineering the transition to ensure maximum stability. Note well that this was not a discussion of whether the war and occupation were right or not. While that's an interesting debate, and should inform discussions of our role in the world in the future, it doesn't help to solve the problem in Iraq right now. Our discussion was strictly limited to what we should do about Iraq.

The Mad Prophet argued that we need to be more forceful in cracking down on the rebels and preventing these flare-ups of violence in places like Fallujah. Since we are the stabilizing presence in the country right now, we need to show everyone involved that we're capable of running a tight ship. Otherwise, he concluded, there will never be respect for the legitimacy of our rule, nor for the elected government that follows.

Papa Shaft countered that too firm a hand will generate a backlash. If our rule is too heavy-handed, it will only generate resentment, which will make it ever harder for us to govern. And the elected government that follows will be tainted by association with us, and thus they'll never be able to run things effectively, either.

I said that Papa was right to be concerned about the anti-American backlash if we cracked down too hard, but that we also needed a basic level of stability before we could even think of holding elections. Just waiting for the rebels to run out of steam isn't going to make that happen.

The Mad Prophet pointed out that when a heavily authoritarian regime goes down, anarchy tends to be the natural result. People get used to a crushing dictatorial style of government, and when that government falls, the people don't know what to do. So anarchy will result unless there's another strong hand to come in and establish order.

So, I said, does that mean we're committed to Iraq until the people learn how to govern themselves democratically? That could take decades, it seems.

But the longer we're there, the more they're going to resent us, Papa said. Doesn't the task of organizing a government become harder the longer we stay?

Worse yet, the Mad Prophet said, there are groups in fierce competition for power who hate each other. Can the Sunnis and the Shiites and the Kurds really work out their differences in a democratic government, or will whichever group loses the elections going to go outside the system?

That's what I'm most worried about, I said. I'm afraid that the only thing keeping those groups in check right now is us. We're the only force strong enough to keep them separated. Plus, their common resentment of us gives them a reason for unity. The minute we leave, I'm afraid, they're going to be at each other's throats. Unless we leave our troops sitting at the disposal of the new government, I don't see how they're going to control anything.

So what can we do? Papa Shaft asked. I'm not seeing a solution that lets us get out with honor and dignity, or that sets Iraq up to be a successful democracy.

I'm not sure that Iraq can be a successful democracy, I said. Even if we agree that the democratic system is the best form of government, as I do, that doesn't mean that it's feasible for everyone. Maybe the only government that could hold the country together is a dictatorship.

So essentially we're damned if we do and damned if we don't, the Mad Prophet concluded. If we get out too soon, we'll be blamed for the mess that follows. If we stay too long, we'll be accused of colonialism.

Looking back on the discussion, I think the Mad Prophet's last point was right. Moreover, I'm not sure there is a point where we can get out without leaving a mess. At best, we can set up a government, and then shrug and say "We did all we could" when it collapses.

Democratic governments only work when everyone's willing to settle their differences politically. If the losers accept the will of the majority, or at least resort to political means to change that decision, then and only then can a democratic government be effective. There has to be a desire among the people for democracy; it can't be imposed by someone else. Our American democracy worked because we were united in our desire to break free from England and govern ourselves. And even in our case, the system has broken down (Civil War, anyone?). So in cases where there's not a strong desire for democracy, or readiness to make it work, what are the chances?

I think that the Iraq-Vietnam analogies are effective in this sense. In both cases, we had plans to transform a troublesome region by imposing democratic systems where there wasn't a strong desire for them. It's one thing to provide support to forces within a country that are seeking democracy. It's another thing entirely to come in, knock over the government and say, "Here, we give you democracy! Take it and like it!" Does anyone really think this is effective? And does anyone think this is going to reduce anti-American sentiment in the Arab world? Even those who support our method of occupation in Iraq don't seem to think it will reduce anti-American sentiment. Bush's supporters seem to regard "Why do they hate us?" as a question for wimps, when what we should be focusing on is crushing them, so that they'll fear us and therefore not attack. These people seem to envision our role in the world as parental, and specificalyl the kind of parent who enforces discipline via the paddle in the closet. That particular mode of discipline has largely fallen out of favor in this country, but I suppose it's refreshing to see that it still has applicability somewhere.

And we have only ourselves to blame for the fact that the forthcoming mess will be laid at our feet. This is the path we've chosen. It was the Bush administration's idea to insist on going it alone, to scorn the help of other countries. We set this up as our project, and now we'd better be prepared to reap what we've sown.

My meager fame has been spread a little further, thanks to the folks at De Novo, who have posted my piece on file-sharing in Canada and the US as part of their latest symposium on Internet, law and culture. Thanks particularly to The Smart Lady, who was responsible for putting it there. Smart Lady, you're really swell.

Finally, I have an item here that was sent to me by my very own mother. Take a look for yourself. This is perfectly emblematic of my mother's sense of humor. So now you have some idea how I got to be the way I am.

That's all for today. Something else tomorrow. See you then!  ¶ 2:37 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Living With a Hernia" by "Weird Al" Yankovic

NO, I'M NOT HOWLING AT THE MOON, MY BACK'S JUST ACTING UP AGAIN

Hello there, all. I was all set to write a nice lengthy political piece today, subject to be determined. And I may do that tomorrow. Today, though, I can't. I hurt. And I'm not talking about some spiritual or emotional hurt. I am in a not insignificant amount of physical pain.

What did I do to myself, you might ask? Was I in a car wreck or something? No, I was not. I played baseball on Saturday.

So? you might ask. Did you get hit by a ball? Did you break a leg sliding into second? No. It's just that I'm still sore from the game itself.

Many of you are probably shaking your head in wonderment at how I could still be hurting two days later. In my defense, though:

- It was one-on-one baseball. This meant that I (as well as my opponent, Papa Shaft) had to stand in for a whole team. If you're pitching, and you coax an easy pop fly to second, you cannot sit back and wait for the second baseman to get it. You must chase it down yourself. If you're at bat, and you leg out a triple, you can't pause and collect yourself and wait for the next batter to drive you in. You are the next batter. While baseball usually has a number of pauses built in to allow you to refresh yourself, one-on-one baseball eliminates those pauses.

- It was the first game of the season. This means an added dose of pain, as you try to coax muscles and bones and tendons and ligaments out of hibernation and convince them to do things that they are neither designed nor inclined to do. With regular repetition throughout the spring and summer, they eventually sigh and get with the program. In the early stages, though, they tend to protest pretty loudly, in the forlorn hope that a sufficient dose of pain will convince me to give it up and switch to some lower-impact activity, such as tiddlywinks.

- I won. This, of course, is of vital importance, and makes up entirely for the fact that I cannot sleep on my side, and that I cannot steer my car with my left hand, and that I am walking, in the words of an observer, "like an 80-year-old man." You have to have priorities in life, you know.

Papa Shaft has reported similar aches and pains, and we have concluded that after our next game, we should have an ambulance waiting in the parking lot. An ambulance with a fully stocked bar. This way, we will be able to kill the pain as quickly as possible.

At any rate, I did not begin this digression to win your sympathy. (Although any sympathy you have to spare is much appreciated.) I'm simply pointing out that, due to my physical condition, I'm not really equipped to think and write in extended form. Therefore, I will restrict myself to quick-hit thoughts and observations, in my typical Friday style. My apologies.

First off, congratulations to Phil Mickleson for winning his first majr tournament, the Masters, this past weekend. Mickleson, everyone's consensus pick as the "best golfer nevber to win a major," posted a strong final round to hold off Ernie Els and claim the green jacket. For those of you who aren't too familiar with golf, you may wonder why this is such a big deal, especially after learning that he's won 21 other tournaments already. I mean, just because he didn't happen to win one of the designated big-deal tournaments, this was somehow earth-shattering? And the guy's only 33. It's not like he's on his way out. So what's so special about this?

Well, for once, I think Sally Jenkins has it right. Let's hear it straight from her:

It's not often that a guy as rich and successful as Mickelson decides he needs to change, so when he does, perhaps he deserves extra congratulations. At the age of 33, Mickelson embarked on this season with 21 tournament victories and more than $25 million in career earnings and he could easily have lacked incentive. But his accomplishments did not live up to his ability, and he knew it. For roughly a decade Mickelson had been one of the more underachieving players in the game, a man of enormous abilities who always came up a little short in the major championships without winning, eight times finishing among the top three without a victory, because another player was a little better or a little meaner under pressure. There was no other way to describe it: Mickelson just seemed soft. Not any more.

That's what the big deal is. Mickleson has always been viewed as a tremendous talent, possibly the only player good enough to rival Tiger Woods on raw ability. But he never was willing to take the entra step needed to beat Tiger. Tiger was raised on golf, devoted himself to it with a somewhat fanatic intensity, and squeezes every drop out of his formidable gifts. Mickelson seemed content to coast on his talent, racking up huge paychecks and enjoying the company of his family. This time around, though, he decided that wasn't enough. He dedicated himself to true greatness, to living up to his promise. He could have stuck with his old approach, made more boatloads of money, and had a very comfortable life. Instead, he decided to scale the mountaintop. I tip my hat, as we all should, to anyone who pursues excellence, rather than settling for "mere" success.

Tom Shales sure picked a bad time to go soft. He was full of praise for Janet Jackson's SNL appearance, which I saw. I think Shales was so furious at the FCC's crackdown on obscenity, and so happy to see it denounced, that he lost his critical faculties. He was effusive in his praise for Jackson and for SNL, neither of which deserved it. Shales claims SNL "hasn't been corrupted by success," which is just plain not true. Although the show has enjoyed something of a renaissance this season, it's still overly dependent on tired repeated sketches, and most of the performers seem to be angling for a movie deal. Darrell Hammond is the only member of the cast capable of carrying his own show or movie. Back in the '70s, the show was loaded with top performers like Bill Murray, Eddie Murphy, Dan Aykroyd, Gilda Radner, Chevy Chase, and John Belushi. Any of the above would have been great in his or her own comedy show. Now, other than Hammond, who is there? Chris Parnell? Rachel Dratch? The hugely overrated Jimmy Fallon? Please. Horatio Sanz is the only other performer who might stand on his own, and he laughs at too many of his own jokes. Just because SNL flipped the bird at Shales' favorite target doesn't mean the show hasn't gone downhill. (And I can't believe that Shales found that ridiculously juvenile "cork soakers" sketch funny and trenchant.)

As for Jackson... she can't act very well, but she didn't embarrass herself in any of the sketches. This can be considered a moral victory. Rather, she saved the embarrassing parts for her musical appearances. Let's get this clear: Janet Jackson has not progressed, musically, since the 1980s. It's the same tired old songs, over and over. And then there's the dancing. Personally, I've long since grown sick and tired of the bumping and grinding and the come-hither looks and the hootchie-cootchie moves that were once associated only with strip clubs. But it's especially disturbing to see Jackson do it. She can't be older than 40, but somehow, seeing her doing the same hypersexual moves that Britney et. al. are famous for, at her age, makes her look like a pathetic old woman. Every time I see her now, I hear "Mrs. Robinson" in my head. Isn't it time for Miss Jackson to show a little more maturity? Her voice isn't terrible, and I think she knows her way around a ballad. She's not like Britney, where the choreography is the whole show. But I see her doing her usual routine, and I see a woman desperately pretending that she's still 25. That's why I wasn't terribly fazed by seeing her singing with Justin Timberlake at the Super Bowl. She still seems to think they're the same age.

Bit of an odd thing yesterday: I was driving back to my apartment complex, and I saw a sign beckoning people to come on in and examine the splendors of "University Square." This gave me significant pause, since as far as I'm aware, my apartment complex is not called "University Square." It looks just like my complex, though, and my key fits in the lock. So what gives? I'm still not sure. And it's particularly odd that my complex would be called University Square, since it's not near any university. There's not one in town. There's not one in the same half of the county. The next time I pay my rent, I intend to ask the nice lady in charge what's going on. Whatever it is, I'll bet there's a rent increase involved.

That's all for today. I'll try to do better tomorrow. See you then!  ¶ 1:54 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: Reader's choice. I'm too relaxed to think about it.

THANK GOD IT'S (GOOD) FRIDAY!

Hello, everyone! It is indeed Good Friday, so a blessed day to all who observe it. When I was a little fellow, I asked my mother what Good Friday was all about, and she explained that it was the day Jesus was crucified. So I said, "Well, what's so good about that? Sounds like a pretty bad Friday to me." And she said that it was what it was and I ought not question it. I think I began wondering about the church from that day forward. And come to think of it, I still don't know what's so good about it.

Rev. Ken Collins suggests that the terminology is actually apt because "in pious retrospect, all that tragedy brought about the greatest good there could be." I think this might be carrying the whole hope-and-renewal bit a tad too far, but I guess Rev. Collins walks on the sunny side of the ecumenical street, and more power to him.

One sign it's Good Friday is the sudden popularity of fish. I always knew I was in a heavily Catholic area when I saw signs for Friday fish fries. The Fedroplex does not have such a tradition, but when I went to the deli around the corner and ordered a tuna melt, I noticed that 5 or 6 people had ordered the same thing. So I offer a cheerful wave to my fish-eating brethren and sistren.

In Virginia, it looks like there might be progress on the budget, as a group of House Republicans broke from the party line to endorse a budget with actual meaningful tax increases. We're not out of the woods yet; the bill still has to pass the House and a deal with the Senate must be finalized. But this is an enormous step in the right direction, and I give tremendous credit to the delegates involved. Special credit to Del. Harry Parrish of Manassas, who shepherded the tax bill through the Finance Committee which he chairs, and to Del. Vince Callahan of Fairfax, who has followed through on the fiscal realism he's pushed throughout the process.

I also tip my hat to Rep. Tom Davis, of all people. You may recall that I had some unkind things to say about his state political machine a few months back, but only a man with access to machine-like resources can do what Davis has done. He has promised financial support to Republican delegates who support the compromise proposal. This is important, because anti-tax groups have been trying to bully Republicans delegates by threatening to defeat them in primaries. Basically, these groups are planning to find doctrinaire anti-tax conservatives, fund them and stand them against the incumbents. Thus, even candidates in safe Republican districts can't safely vote for tax increases without danger. By offering the largesse of his organization, Davis assures these incumbents that they'll be able to strike a deal and not get buried by an avalanche of anti-tax money in the primaries. Part of this is undoubtedly calculated (Davis figures that if moderate Republicans lose to strong conservatives in the primaries, Democrats might wind up winning the seats), but I think part of it is a sincere desire to reach a good budget deal. So thank you, Rep. Davis.

Davis isn't the only Republican big gun pushing for a deal. Some business groups are threatening not to support Republicans who stand in the way of a budget deal. This may seem surprising, but many business groups are anxious to avoid the uncertainty of a budget stalemate. Also, many businesses actually support a reasonable level of services, even if it means higher taxes. After all, if the schools, transportation and other services are lousy, workers won't want to come to Virginia. I'm glad the business community is far-sighted enough to recognize this fact, which tends to elude people like Speaker Howell.

Credit is also due to Governor Warner. It's not coincidence, I don't think, that the House's new plan looks fairly similar to Warner's. The governor has earned a reputation in the past for not being able to navigate the General Assembly, either because he didn't understand how to work with them or because he didn't want to get his hands dirty. But Warner was in the lead on this, acting as the first mover on the tax plan and standing in and refusing to buckle under Republican resistance. Most of the negotiation at this stage has been between Republicans in the Senate and the House, but it's Warner who got the ball rolling. Warner will be key in the final stage, as it will be up to him to bring the Senate and House together on a compromise plan. Already, the breakaway House Republicans are looking to him for support. If he can pull it off, he'll have a strong and well-earned reputation for achieving bipartisan cooperation which should stand him in good stead for his political future.

How about those Tigers! Detroit rallied from an early deficit to thump the Twins, 9-4, and move to 4-0 on the year. Yes, it's meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but ask any Tigers fan who suffered through last year's 0-9 start, or the 0-6 start of 2002, how much this means.

And my Brewers stand at 3-1 after demolishing the Cards, 11-5, in the last of the opening set. Again, meaningless in the grand scheme, but after last year's 0-6 opening, I can tell you this is a hell of a lot better. I have no expectations of playoffs, or even a .500 record, but we ought to at least manage to show some life this year. And if we can get our hands on a couple solid starters...

All right, enough rambling for today. Have a good weekend, and Happy Easter to those who observe.  ¶ 1:37 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Secondhand News" by Fleetwood Mac

STILL TALKIN' BASEBALL

Hello there, everybody. Today we continuue the series on minor-league team names. In this installment of the series, we focus on names that are... well, embarrassing. These names hail from the so-called "good ol' days," back when people felt free to say what they wanted, call a spade a spade, and generally offend the hell out of everyone with no repercussions. It was a less sensitive time, to be sure. I am consistently amazed at the sort of things that people considered acceptable speech back in those days. Remember our hypothetical rookie, calling his parents to say who he played for? Well, just imagine that rookie mentioning any of these names today.

Mobile Red Warriors
Southeast League, 1932

Red warrior, of course, is one of the lovely descriptive terms applied to Native Americans. The Native Americans have really had a time of it, haven't they? We come in, snatch away their land, herd them onto grim, rock-strewn reservations, and then give our sports teams nicknames like "Red Warriors" and highly respectful mascots like Chief Wahoo. Turn on the TV, and there's a bunch of white people doing the Tomahawk Chop. If Native Americans seem a little cranky about the whole team-naming business... well, I'd be cranky too.

Actually, "Red Warriors" is one of the gentler Native American nicknames out there, especially when compared to...

Coalinga Savages
San Joaquin Valley League, 1910

At least they didn't call the team the "Noble Savages," right? To me, "noble savage" sounds like a slap in the face: "We still don't consider you equals, but we've discovered you have certain human-like qualities, and we like that." It's really a wonder that there aren't more disgruntled Native Americans.

Incidentally, one of my favorite baseball retorts of all time came from Chief Bender, a Native American pitcher for the A's in the early 1900s. After enduring an afternoon of taunts from opposing fans, Bender turned to the hecklers and shouted, "You ignorant ill-bred foreigners! If you don't like the way I'm doing things out there, why don't you just pack up and go back to your own countries?" Fantastic line.

And just to complete the Native-American trifecta...

Muskogee Redskins
Oklahoma-Kansas League, 1907-08

Needless to say, this nickname lives on thanks to a certain NFL franchise. I'm reasonably sure I've registered my objections to the name in the past, so I'll just touch on one point here. Legendary Washington sportscaster Ken Beatrice used to have a great answer for everyone who thought that Native American groups were making a big to-do about nothing. "Do they have worse problems than a bunch of offensive team names? Sure. And they'll tell you that problems like houses and schools are worse. But by complaining about team names, maybe they can get enough attention to do something about the houses and the schools." I also recall vividly Ken's explanation for why he wouldn't mind living next to a prison, but that's another story for another day.

Moving on to another ethnic group...

Canton Chinamen
Central League, 1906-07

Canton, of course, is the English translation of a city in China, Guangzhou. As a result of this, teams in various Cantons across America took on "Chinese" names like these. And back then, people probably thought this was exotic and mysterious, instead of just offensive.

My grandfather still uses this term on occasion. It's one of the reasons we try not to go out in public with him.

And since "Chinamen" just wasn't quite offensive enough, soon we had...

Canton Chinks
Illinois-Missouri League, 1908-13

There is no defense for this name. None. It's probably for the best that there were very few if any actual Chinese people in the area at the time.

Side note to younger people: If you ever happen to see "All in the Family," you may find the character of Archie Bunker somewhat implausible. You may believe that he was a deliberately outrageous straw man, and that real people didn't talk like he did. He was definitely outrageous, but I assure you that people used to talk that way all the time. Take this team as an example... it's straight out of the Bunker lexicon.

This being America, we wouldn't be complete without a few African-American slurs, so here we go:

Hornell/Patton Pigmies
Interstate League, 1906

Pigmies (or pygmies) originally referred to a specific African tribe, but over time became a universal derogatory term for blacks. Nowadays, it's mostly a synonym for "small" (pygmy goats and so on). With names like these, I often wonder how brazenly the teams displayed them. Did the uniforms have "PIGMIES" in big bold letters on the front? Did the entrance to the stadium read "Home of the Pigmies"? Was the name in bold type on the sports pages? In short, just how brazen was the racism of that day? My guess is pretty brazen.

Perhaps it was so brazen that no one even noticed it. It was just part of the culture. That was always Billy Martin's defense every time he'd call someone "dago" or "spic." He claimed that he grew up with the terms and that he never saw them as wrong. This excuse became less compelling after he'd been repeatedly reminded that these terms were, in fact, repugnant.

Terre Haute Hottentots
Three-I League, 1902

Like "pigmies," Hottentots originally referred to a specific tribe, but later became a general slur against blacks. The thing I find particularly interesting about this name is that most of the, um, antiquated team names sound blatantly ugly and offensive. This one, however, sounds kind of nice. It has a definite lilt to it, and if you don't know what the term means, it actually sounds pretty cute. And since "Hottentot" is such an outmoded word, very few people do know what it means. Sorry to have to burst your bubble.

Tarboro Tarbabies
Virginia League, 1921

Obvious, perhaps, but unfortunate nonetheless. Although every time I hear this term, I think of the hilarious old SNL sketch in which Richard Pryor played a job applicant being interviewed by Chevy Chase. Chase asks Pryor to say the first thing that comes to mind in response to certain words. Pryor says fine, and the dialogue goes something like this (Chase starts):

"Night."
"Day."
"Black."
"White."
"Tar baby."
"Uh, excuse me?"
"Tar baby."
"Now, sir, I know I didn't hear-"
"Tar baby."
"Ofay!"
"Lawn jockey."
"Cracker!"
"Pygmy."
"White trash!"
"Porch monkey."
"Honky!"
"Jungle bunny."
"Honky honky!"
"[N-word]."
"Dead honky!"

Cracks me up every time.

Let's see, who else can we offend?

Coronado Arabs
California State League, 1929

I have no idea why they called the team this. The city of Coronado is named after the Spanish explorer who searched the western U.S. for the fabled Seven Golden Cities of Cibola, which turned out not to exist. What any of this has to do with Arabs, I don't know. I don't think Coronado had a big Arab population. And it doesn't go well with the city name. It seems like a random slur.

This name reminds me of an awful little song by Ray Stevens called "Ahab the Arab." Sample verse:

He brought that camel to a screeching halt
At the rear of Fatima's tent jumped off Clyde
Snuck around the corner and into the tent he went
There he saw Fatima laying on a Zebra skin rug
Wearing rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
And a bone in her nose ho, ho

Stevens also gave us that masterpiece of American songwriting, "The Streak." Stevens bills himself as "The Comedy King of Music City USA," which is quite something, given that most of his songs aren't actually, you know, funny.

Have we got anything to offend white people? You bet!

Tarboro Goobers
Coastal Plain League, 1938

Poor Tarboro. They've sure had a rough time with team names, haven't they? "Goober" is a fairly recognizable pejorative term for Southerners, immortalized in the "Goober Peas" song and the character Goober on the Andy Griffith Show. Incidentally, Did anyone else ever find it virrtually impossible to tell the difference between Goober and Gomer? They were both slow-witted drawlers with good hearts, and they looked a lot alike. Do you think Goober was bitter that Gomer got his own spinoff series? I probably would have been. Gomer got to go off into the Marines, while Goober was stuck running the filling station and serving as the butt of everyone's jokes. That would make me a bitter man indeed.

Vicksburg Hill Billies
Cotton States League, 1955

Another slang term immortalized in a TV show. By the way, where would you, as a country person, rather live: Mayberry or Beverly Hills? I'd say Mayberry. Sure, in Beverly Hills you live in the lap of luxury and all that, but in Mayberry, you're surrounded by people who share your values and traditions. In Beverly Hills, everyone thinks you're a weirdo who's either dangerous or annoying. And who needs to go through life as a freak?

Providence Rubes
Eastern League, 1926

I think this choice of nickname is a little odd, as Providence was never a little hick backwater. Perhaps they were being coached or managed by a famous Rube that year, like Rube Waddell or Rube Marquard. It wasn't unheard of in those days to name the team after its most prominent figure; when Napoleon Lajoie was managing Cleveland, they named the team the "Naps" in his honor. I'm not sure how much of an honor Lajoie felt this to be. Fun fact: Lajoie was known by many of his teammates as "Larry," even though this was not his name. I'm guessing they didn't know how to spell "Napoleon."

Atlanta Crackers
Southern Association, 1902-61

The intersting thing about these offensive nicknames is that most of them didn't last for more than a season or two. This one is an exception. The Crackers name lasted 60 seasons, and had Atlanta received an expansion team instead of a relocated franchise, they might well have tried to keep this name at the major-league level. It would certainly provide an interesting addition to the Redskins/Indians/Braves name debate.

That's not the best thing about the name, though. The best thing is that Atlanta got a Negro League franchise, and the genius who owned it decided to name it, with no apparent irony, the Atlanta Black Crackers. I'm not sure whether this was a triumph of obliviousness or racial insensitivity or what.

And finally...

Canon City/Raton Swastikas
Rocky Mountain League, 1912

All right, the important thing to remember is that there was no racist intent in this name whatsoever. Marge Schott aside, baseball has no tradition of Nazi boosterism. Take a close look at that date. 1912. At that point, Hitler was still mooning around Austria, bummed out about flunking out of art school.

So what's with the name? Well, as hard as this may be to believe, the swastika used to be considered a symbol of good luck. A rabbit's foot of sorts, or a four-leaf clover. Adolf and his crew spoiled that symbolism, but this particular relic remains. I hate to even bring it up, since it was an unfortunate coincidence more than anything, but how could I not?

(And in case you're curious as to whether any merchandise is available from this team: Find out for yourself. I refuse to help you.)

That's enough for today. See you tomorrow!  ¶ 1:39 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Unbelievable" by EMF

2 AND 0! 2 AND 0!

Hey there, everybody! I'm riding a wave of good feeling today... the Brewers are 2-0! You may be going, "So what? Isn't the season 162 games long?" Well, yes. But the Brewers haven't been 2-0 since 1995. So this is exciting news! Maybe there's hope yet! Don't get me wrong... I know that two games don't portend anything in particular, especially if Sheets and Kolb continue to struggle. But when you're a Brewers fan, you learn to take your joys where you can find them. It's good training for life, really.

Today, as promised, we continue with the series on minor-league team names. Today, we're taking a look at some of the weirder names in minor-league history. Usually, upon closer inspection, these names turn out to have a connection to their city, somehow or other. Which is a fortunate thing, since otherwise we'd be left to wonder what the hell these people were on, and how we could get some. As you'll see, though, the explanations usually turn out to be fairly prosaic.

Kirksville Osteopaths
Missouri State League, 1911

One of the first weird minor-league names I ever collected. Some of you may think that this term looks vaguely medical, and you'd be right. An osteopath, it turns out, is a doctor who manipulates bones to treat diseases. (I'm not entirely sure, but I think this is what Catfish Hunter had done to his shoulder in the '70s.) One of the pioneers of osteopathy was Dr. Andrew Still, who founded the Osteopathic School in Kirksville in 1812. So, essentially, the name is a tip of the hat to the most famous name in town. Which doesn't make it any less silly-sounding. "Other teams want to crush your bones... we want to manipulte them!"

Battle Creek Cero Frutos
Michigan State League, 1902

This one doesn't even look like English. I was stumped by this until I remembered that Battle Creek is the home of Kellogg's. As it turns out, Battle Creek was one of the hubs of cereal manufacturing even before the age of conglomeration, and Cero Fruto was one of the cereals made there. It consisted of wheat flakes sprayed with apple jelly (this is before cereal companies started putting dried fruit chunks in everything). Ironically, Cero Fruto means "zero fruit" in Spanish. Of course, I'm sure the fellow who created it didn't know the first thing about Spanish.

Battle Creek being a cereal town, a cereal name made sense, I suppose. But couldn't they have picked something better, like "Wheatlets" or "Grape-Nuts"?

Actually, this name bothers me because it borders on advertising. MLB may be experimenting with ad patches on the jersey, but it would never stoop to allowing a team to take a corporate name. They may have gotten away with that nonsense at the turn of the 20th century, but thankfully, we haven't seen anything so disgraceful since.

Vancouver Capilanos
Western International League, 1946-54

See, this is much more like it. A nice, non-commercial name that hasa lovely sound to it and immediately makes you think of the city. Oh, by the way, what's a Capilano?

Glad you asked. The Capilano River runs through Vancouver. There's a pretty park there. It's a great source of pride to Vancouver residents. So, naturally, they would want their team named after a beautiful natural feature like that.

It's strictly coincidence, I'm sure, that the team was owned at the time by the Capilano Brewery. Pure coincidence. Yep. Um.

Whatever became of the Capilano Brewery, anyway? It was acquired by Molson sometime during the '60s, and has recently enjoyed a "revival" during the microbrew boom, as Molson has started producing beer under the old Capilano label. The Vancouver baseball team later became the Mounties (Jim Bouton played for them in '69, as chronicled in Ball Four), and then the Canadians. I'm sure it's strictly coincidence that the Canadians' logo looked just like the logo for Molson Canadian beer. Pure coincidence. Yep. Um.

Fun fact: Capilano Brewery was owned by Emil Sick. Baseball fans with a flair for trivia may recall that Sick's Stadium was home to the Seattle Pilots in '69. Same guy. Don't you feel enlightened?

Camden Ouachitas
Arkansas-Texas League, 1906

I was initially guessing that "Ouachita" might be a Spanish word, but I was wrong. Turns out that Ouachita is a word from the Caddo Indian tribe, meaning "eastern border of our nation." Camden is located on the bank of the Ouachita River. Simple enough, once explained.

You may be wondering why I thought Arkansas would have a town with a Spanish name, but you never can tell. Mississippi has a town called Kosciusko, which is named for a Polish hero of the Revolutionary War. One old-time ballplayer grew up in Kosciusko, and when told the town's name was Polish, he said, "Polish? I always thought it was some old Indian chief."

Seattle Siwashes
Pacific Coast League, 1904-06

Siwash is a Native American-related term as well. It is an obsolete term to describe Native Americans. It is not a compliment. It means "inferior to a white man." The closest modern analog is "savage." You can imagine how well the "Seattle Savages" would go over today. In case you've forgotten how much times have changed, there's an example.

"Siwash" was also the title of a pretty rotten Jack London story. Sample passage:

"There, there," Dick interposed, when the last quavering syllable had wailed itself out. "Don't let that worry you, little woman. I'm old enough to be your father's brother, and I've a daughter older than you, and I'll tog you out in fripperies when we get to Dawson if it takes my last dollar."

"When we get to Dawson!" The scorn had come back to her throat with a sudden surge. "You'll rot on the way, first. You'll drown in a mudhole. You--you--Britishers!"

The last word, explosive, intensive, had strained the limits of her vituperation. If that would not stir these men, what could? Tommy's neck ran red again, but he kept his tongue between his teeth. Dick's eyes mellowed. He had the advantage over Tommy, for he had once had a white woman for a wife.

I'll spare you the rest.

Hutchinson Wheatshockers
Western League, 1917

How exactly do you shock wheat? Do you come up behind it and yell "Boo!"? Do you show it dirty pictures? Do you stick it in a socket?

As it turns out, though, the explanation here is pretty dull. "Shocking" means shucking. So basically a wheatshocker is a harvester. Wichita State's sports teams go by "Shockers", but their full name is "Wheatshockers." So add one more to your stock of useless facts.

Florence Pee Deans
Palmetto League, 1931

This frankly sounds kind of gross. How does one, exactly, pee deans? Why would one want to? And why would one want one's baseball team to celebrate this fact?

Actually, though, Pee Dee is a region of South Carolina, located in the northeastern part of the state. Why is it called Pee Dee? Because the Pee Dee Indians settled there originally. Why are they called the Pee Dee Indians? No one's quite sure. To me, "Pee Dee" sounds like the name of a Teletubby.

The "Pee Dee" name survives, not only in the tribe but through the Pee Dee Pride, a minor-league hockey team. Insert your own jokes here.

Dyersburg Forked Deers
Kitty League, 1923

This name summons an image of a freshly-killed buck roasting on a spit, which can't possibly by what they had in mind, could it? Actually, Dyerburg is on the banks of the Forked Deer River, which does, by all reliable accounts, fork. Mystery solved.

Or is it? I learned that there's a bluegrass song called "Forked Deer," which talks about hunting a forked deer. Is there an actual forked deer out there? Or was the tune originally named after the river, and a later lyricist, who didn't know any better, thought it was named for an actual deer? Any bluegrass fans who might provide some insight, please let me know.

Grand Forks Flickertails
Northern League, 1914-17

"Flickertail" sounds like the name of a horse in a children's book. In fact, though, it's a kind of ground squirrel. It's the unofficial North Dakota state mammal. It would be the official North Dakota State Mammal, but the heartless state legislature crushed the official flickertail movement in 1953. Despite this setback, North Dakotans are known informally as "Flickertails," and the state march is called the Flickertail March.

So what's the flickertail's claim to North Dakota fame? Apparently, they attacked grain farms all over the state. At one point, there was a bounty on the little fellows. Basically, the flickertail was the bane of North Dakota's existence. It would be as if Northern Virginia seceded from the rest of Virginia and immediately passed a bill dubbing itself "The Traffic State."

There's a blog called Flickertail that's keeping up with action on the North Dakota campaign trail. Very informational and entertaning, for anyone who's into state politics.

Sacramento Solons
Pacific Coast League, 1935-61

The granddaddy of all strange names. This is a perennial favorite of anyone collecting lists like these. "What the hell's a Solon?" people ask. Even those who played for the Solons seemed baffled by the name. It has a nice sound to it, but what does it mean?

Actually, the name makes perfect sense. A "solon" is a legislator. Since Sacramento is the seat of state government, the name is perfectly fitting. The term honors the great Athenian legislator Solon, a man renowned for his wisdom. To the degree that the terms survives today, it's usually used ironically. Nowadays, Sacramento's team is called the River Cats, which is nowhere near as evocative. Bring back the Solons!

Tomorrow I'll be back with a fresh new set of names. Stay tuned!  ¶ 2:33 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Roll Out the Barrel"

TIME FOR SOMETHING DIFFERENT!

Good day, all! Today, in honor of the baseball season, I'm inaugurating a new feature. I'm taking us on a trip through minor-league America. Stepping off the beaten path, I'm guiding our little tour bus down the back roads of baseball for a while. What does this almost stiflingly pretentious sentence mean? It means I'm going to make fun of minor-league team names.

The names of major-league ballclubs have a certain evocative power. Yankees, Giants, Dodgers, Cardinals... the mere sound of the names calls to mind long-dead teams and ballplayers. Even if the names no longer make sense ("Dodgers" is short for "Trolley Dodgers." Anyone who manages to catch a trolley in LA, write me a postcard), they still echo with the weight of history.

Minor-league team names are a different story. For one thing, few teams carry the same name for decades on end. (And those that do -- like the Toledo Mud Hens -- often make you wonder why.) And given the sheer number of minor-league teams out there, it's hard to be original. Ideally, you want a name that has some sort of local connection. For instance, the Frederick Keys are named in honor of anthem-writer and Frederick homeboy Francis Scott Key. If there's no obvious locally-inspired name, then... strange things happen. And those strange things are what I'm interested in.

When you're a major-league player, identifying yourself with your team carries a certain pride. "I'm a Yankee!" "I'm a Dodger!" "I'm an Expo!" It creates a different feeling altogether to have to tell someone, "I'm a Mud Hen!" Playing for a team with a truly bad name can beat you down. As Ted McGinley said at the end of Major League 3 as his world was crashing down on him, "So this is it. I'm not a Pirate, I'm not a Yankee. I'm not even a Red Sock. I am a damn... Buzz. Yeah, a bumblebee. That's what I am. A Buzz."

As you read through this list of some the minor leagues' worst names, imagine yourself as a young ballplayer, struggling to make it, hoping to validate the faith everyone's placed in you, and discovering you've been sent to one of these teams. Imagine having to call home and tell your parents who you play for. Capture that queasy moment of burning shame, if you can. Then you can fully appreciate the horror of these names.

With that in mind, let's begin. And remember, I am not making any of these up. (Historical information courtesy of Mike McCann's Minor League Baseball Page.)

Waterloo Microbes
Iowa State League, 1904-1906

"Catch the Microbes!" I have no idea what genius came up with this nickname, but what could he have been thinking? "We're going to infect you... with baseball fever!" Or did they mean to suggest that the team's winning percentage isn't visible to the naked eye?

Waycross Blowhards
Empire State League, 1913

Perhaps they were trying to make us think of a strong wind or something, but all this name makes me think of is Robert Byrd railing against some continuing resolution on the Senate floor. (Hey, if we ever get baseball back in Washington, maybe we've got a naming possibility here...) Also worth noting is the fact that the team played in Waycross, Georgia, which sounds like a farmer giving directions. ("Excuse me, sir. Am I near Atlanta?" "Uh-uh. You gotta go way 'cross Georgia to get there.")

Jersey City Skeeters
International League, 1902-15 and 1918-27

Now, Jersey City may well be located on a swamp, but it doesn't really seem necessary to remind people of the fact. ("Skeeters" is illiterate slang for "mosquitoes.") Although the name is sort of fitting... Jersey City is really annoying, and when you drive through it, you can feel your life force draining away.

Columbus/Brunswick River Snipes
Georgia State League, 1906

Wait, the River Snipes? Is that snipes as in the imaginary creatures that camp counselors tend to make novice campers go hunt for? Or are those like gutter snipes (according to the dictionary, "a neglected boy running at large; a street Arab")? Either way, the image isn't flattering.

Griffin Pimientos
Georgia-Alabama League, 1947-49

Yes, that's right, pimientos! Those little things in the middle of olives. Mm-mm-mm! (Also a key component of pickle-and-pimiento loaf, for anyone else who was subjected to that wonder-meat "treat" as a child. If you don't believe me, look here.) Possible slogan: "Pimientos Baseball: We're Tasteless and Unnaturally Red!"

New Orleans Little Pets
Cotton States League, 1912

Little Pets? Sounds like either a dwarf rabbits or a good date at the movies. "Big Pets" would at least sound marginally more intimidating.

Minot Why Nots
Northern League, 1917

Why not? Because it's a stupid name for a team, that's why not. ("Why not" rhymes with "Minot," allegedly, even though I'll bet the Minot who game his name to the town in the first place pronounced it "mih-NO".)

Moose Jaw Robin Hoods
Western Canada League, 1909-11 and 1913-14

No, really, I'm not making this up! Moose Jaw is a town in Saskatchewan, in Western Canada. Robin Hood is at least a beloved figure of literature, although my image of him was forever altered after "Shrek" came out. Remember that song he sang?

Oh, I like an honest fight
And a saucy little maid
(What he really means is that he likes to get-_
Paid!

"Shrek" was a funny movie. Where was I?

Regina Bone Pilers
Western Canada League, 1909-10

Again, not making this up. I assume that some native tribe was famous for making piles of bones. Otherwise, I really wouldn't want to play this team on the road. (Fun Pronunciation Note: Regina is not pronounced the same way as the girl's name. It rhymes with "vagina." No, really.)

By the way, who else would have loved to see a hard fought game between the Bone Pilers and the Robin Hoods? Surely I'm not the only one.

Hamlin Pied Pipers
West Texas League, 1928

Ha ha! Get it? No? Well, you see, the Pied Piper was from Hamelin. Which isn't exactly the same as Hamlin, but it's close. Hey, what do you want? This is the minor leagues. You want historical accuracy, buy an encyclopedia. It would have been great if the team actually led a parade of mice out of town at the beginning of the season, but I'll bet they weren't that creative, unless Bill Veeck was involved.

Now, at this point you might be going, "Haw haw! What a bunch of ding-dongs they were back in the old days!" Because, of course, we'd never come up with anything that stupid today, right? Uh, right?

Batavia Muckdogs
New York-Penn League, 1998-

Ewwww. The strange thing is that Batavia's team used to have a perfectly respectable name, the Clippers. Then suddenly, for no apparent reason, they tossed away that name and went with "Muckdogs." What's a Muckdog? Well, if you go by the team's logo, it appears to be an extremely angry dog impaled on a fence. Or something. Incidentally, I have visited Batavia, New York, and it really is a Muckdog kind of town. The mold is too depressed to grow there.

Ogden Raptors
Pioneer League, 1994-

A victim of bad timing. Seems that right around this time, there was some big blockbuster movie out. Something about dinosaurs. Can't remember what it was called. At any rate, the fine folks in Ogden seem to have decided to cash in on the success of that movie (what was it?), and selected a nice hip dinosaur nickname, Raptors. Well, that was a decade ago. The movie had a couple turkey sequels. Dinosaurs are about as fashionable as Brylcreem now. And the team's stuck with the nickname. They need to keep up with the times. Hmm... how about calling the team the Matrix?

Erie SeaWolves
Eastern League, 1995-

Let me turn to the team Web site for enlightenment:

"In the English language, the word SeaWolves is synonymous with Pirates, individuals who commit or practice piracy. SeaWolves are robbers on the high seas."

In the English language, this explanation is synonymous with redundant, a repetition of obvious facts redundantly. Whoever wrote this explanation clearly doesn't speak the English language, at least not fluently.

"The team adopted the name SeaWolves due to the City’s proximity to the lake, the historical factors of Lake Erie and its relationship with the [Pittsburgh] Pirates."

The "historical factors" of Lake Erie? Like what? The lost legends of Graybeard and his Garbage Pirates, terror of the Great Lakes?

"The SeaWolves, having changed the logo in 1999 for two seasons while affiliated with the Anaheim Angels, have gone back to a similar version of their original logo of the bats crossing, since they are now the Double A affiliate of the Detroit Tigers."

Oh, well, naturally. Because when I think Tigers, I think piracy.

I was prepared to rip the SeaWolves to shreds for their name, but they did a far better job of it themselves.

West Tenn Diamond Jaxx
Southern League, 1998-

What the hell's a Diamond Jaxx? The logo is of little help; it features a gruff-looking miner holding a diamond. So the "diamond" part is explained. But what's a Jaxx? Sounds like the name of a faux-hip-hop clothing line.

By the way, does that little miner look familiar to you? When I saw him, I thought he was the cousin of the guy on the Pringles can. And then I saw that the Diamond Jaxx play in Pringles Park. Hmmm...

Hardware City Rock Cats
Eastern League, 1995-96

Here was a team with a perfectly good name, the New Britain Red Sox, that became obsolete when Boston found a new affiliate. So this is what they came up with. Now, you might think a Rock Cat is something akin to a mountain lion. You'd be thinking logically. You would also be wrong. When they say "Rock Cat," they mean a rock star cat. He comes equipped with leather jacket, shades, and pompadour. They chose the Hardware City name in honor of the Stanley Tool Works, headquartered in New Britain. (For the time being, anyway.) The name was sufficiently embarrassing that they dropped the "Hardware City" part after two seasons. (Or perhaps the other Eastern League teams had trouble locating Hardware City on a map.) Now they are known as the New Britain Rock Cats, which isn't at all embarrassing. Heh heh.

Look for this fun new feature for the rest of the week, and then on a weekly basis until I get bored with it or run out of names.

Courtesy of The Smart Lady, I have learned that Pink will play Janis Joplin in a movie about the late rock singer that's filming this summer. I know very little about Pink, although I understand her to be a singer. I suspect I won't be happy with whomever they pick, because I have a great big crush on Janis, and no one else could quite measure up, I think. I'm willing to give the movie -- and Pink -- a shot, though. We'll see what happens.

That's all for today. More names tomorrow. See you then!

UPDATE: I have been presented with evidence of trolleys in the LA area. Which is what you get for not doing research. I stand corrected. My point was that the "Dodgers" name was a relic of the team's stay in Brooklyn, where the field was right next to the trolley lines. I was, however, wrong to make the breezy assertion about the trolleys. However, there are still no lakes in LA.  ¶ 12:52 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Hello Goodbye" by the Beatles

BEGINNINGS AND ENDINGS

Good day, all! I had a fine (if somewhat sleep-deprived) weekend. I attended two sporting contests: the last home game of the Caps' season and the first home game of the Orioles' season. Each game had a markedly different atmosphere, as you might expect. Forthwith, a brief summary of my adventures.

The Caps game bordered on funereal. Not only was it the last home game of a dismal season, but the NHL faces a bitter strike that threatens to wipe out all of next season, and possibly more. The Caps faced off against the equally sorry Rangers. Ordinarily, this would at least be worthwhile in that we could boo Jaromir Jagr, currently employed by the Rangers. But Jagr did not play, and he was not even to be found on the bench, having apparently decided that our planned vituperation was too much for his delicate sensibilities. (What a pansy.) The Rangers' other star, the retiring Mark Messier, also missed the game, leaving the Rangers bereft of famous names. They even trotted out their backup goaltender, Jamie MacLennan. Faced with the prospect of playing the Rangers' B team, the Caps, naturally, lost. The final was 3-2 in overtime. The fans were too numb to boo much. Some highlights:

- Among other things, Papa Shaft and I decided that Jagr should be forced to change his jersey number to "$$", and that the Caps' new theme song should be "Who Are You?".

- At the start of the third period, the Rangers' starting six were all skating around the ice, while the only two Caps on the ice were Olie Kolzig and Brendan Witt. Papa Shaft suggested that they were discussing where they'd be traded after the season. It should be noted that, at the time, the PA was blaring the song "Turn Me Loose," which we thought was fitting.

- About a minute into overtime, the Caps took a dumb penalty. And with the Rangers a man to the good and almost certain to win, a contingent of New York fans immediately started a "Let's Go Ran-gers" chant. It was a brilliant display of New York front-running.

- After the game, the Caps offered five fans a chance to win a Dodge SUV. The third contestant was an attractive blonde woman with a tight fitting pink sweater. Joe Benninatti, the Caps' announcer, asked her for her name, to which she replied, "Jamie Lynn." Then Joe said, "Jamie Lynn, I've got a good feeling." And a guy two rows behind us shouted, "I do too!" It's safe to say his sentiment was widely shared. She didn't win, though.

- At the end of the post-game ceremony, Kolzig said a few words. He began, "Thanks to the fans for supporting us through a tough year. But we've got a good young team, and when we come back next year... or the year after that..." Poor Olie. He was clearly distraught about what a disaster the season had been. He was disappointed in himself and the team. My heart goes out to the guy. He had a few lapses during the year (okay, he looked like he was sleepwalking through some games), but he has a warrior's heart, and I salute that.

- As per usual tradition, in the third period the Jumbotron urged us all to sing along with "The Hockey Song" by Stompin' Tom Connors. It's a mildly inane but fun song (the chorus goes, "Oh, the good old hockey game/ Is the best game you can name/ And the best game you can name/ Is the good old hockey game"), and I sang along with gusto. I happened to glance down at the ice, though, and I got the distinct impression that more than a few Capitals are pretty damned sick and tired of "The Hockey Song." For which I can't blame them. After 41 repetitions a year, it probably does get old.

- Also as per tradition, the Caps Kiss Cam made an appearance in the third period. The Kiss Cam is a fairly standard gimmick at sports events, and it goes like this: The camera focuses on a man and woman sitting next to each other, and once they spot their faces on the Jumbotron, they're supposed to kiss each other. On this occasion, the camera happened to catch a few older couples who took the opportunity to engage in some serious face-sucking, to raucous approval from the crowd.

Still, the Caps Kiss Cam can't approach the greatest of them all, the Brewers Kiss Cam. Now, some of you might think that, playing in America's Heartland as they do, the Brewers might choose to forgo the undignified antics of the Kiss Cam. You would, however, be wrong. Whether it's because Milwaukee's a party town or because the Brewers need to do something to get attention, I'm not sure, but the Brewers Kiss Cam was a particularly special experience.

To begin with, most Kiss Cams just have a couple lip prints around the edge. But this one said, "The Brewers want to see you kiss!" They started out by focusing on people who clearly came as couples. Then they focused on a few people who looked like they weren't couples. Then, they focused on two young women. They didn't notice at first, but then the crowd started whooping and they looked up. They blushed and shook their heads, and the crowd groaned. Then the camera switched back to male-female couples... and then returned to the two women. This time they obliged the camera, kissing each other briefly on the lips, and the place went wild. The crowd cheered that sight louder than anything that happened on the field all night. Then the camera focused on two young men. The crowd laughed, and one of the young men flipped the Kiss Cam the old one-finger salute. And that was it for the evening. A truly great Kiss Cam. Other teams should try this.

Sunday night brought me to Camden Yards, again in the company of Papa Shaft, for the Orioles and Red Sox. Here the mood was quite different. A new season was dawning, and the Orioles look better (at least on paper) than they have in years. The fans came to cheer their heroes with gusto. Cheer with gusto, and drink large quantities of alcohol. Baltimore fans seem pretty confident, and their confidence was vindicated last night, as the O's rolled to an easy 7-2 victory. Notes from the game:

- O's ace Sidney Ponson looked pretty solid. His velocity was excellent, although he had very little movement on his pitches. Then again, he rarely does have much movement on his pitches. Papa Shaft also reports that some members of the Orioles staff have nicknamed Ponson "The Hamburglar," due to his physique, I presume.

- The Red Sox stranded 14 men during the game, which is a pretty staggering accomplishment. Then again, it's hard to drive in runners with your hands wrapped around your throat.

- Before the game, Papa happened to catch a close-up of Martinez on TV, and commented, "Gee, Pedro looks extra-surly tonight." And he was. After Javy Lopez went deep in the third inning, Martinez immediately drilled David Segui in the head. It was the first of several knockdown pitches for Martinez, knockdown pitches that were answered in kind by the Orioles. The umpires declined to eject anybody, though, on the grounds that it was so cold that it was hard to control the ball very well. Which was undoubtedly true, but I somehow find it hard to believe that most everyone's "control trouble" seemed to be on the inner half.

- Speaking of cold: It was rather nippy. The temperature was 43 degrees in the first inning, and went straight down from there. Several fans were heard to mutter, "When's kickoff?" A good night for hot chocolate, which the Orioles' vendors don't seem to sell. They do, however, sell beer. When the Miller Lite man came by, someone shouted, "Hey, you got something hot?" The beer man waved his hand at his tray and said, "Anything here look hot? You want hot, we got hot dogs and pretzels. Everything else is cold." Brilliant planning. At least no one was selling frozen lemonade.

- The Orioles lined up some legendary figures from their past to throw out the first pitches, including Jim Palmer, Brooks Robinson, Earl Weaver and Cal Ripken Jr. Bud Selig was on hand, too. When he was announced, the entire stadium booed. Even the hot-dog vendor booed. I was the only guy in the ballpark clapping, as far as I could tell. Commissioner Selig, please note the rude treatment you received in Baltimore. Do you want to reward these people by giving them unfair access to Washington's market? Think about it, Commissioner.

- Have you seen Johnny Damon? He just keeps getting shaggier and shaggier. The minute Damon popped out of the dugout, we all began searching for comparisons. The Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer, Grizzly Adams, Jesus Christ... all the comparisons came out. After thinking about it, though, I've decided that he looks like Animal, from the Muppet Show. Something about that unkempt aura.

- Baltimore, for whatever reason, has chosen to adopt "BELIEVE" as its slogan. I find this to be a perfect example of the kind of well-meaning civic vacuousness that tends to substitute for actual public spending. Still and all, I had to like the bumper sticker I saw on my way back home, aboard a car with Maryland tags. It read, "BLIEVE, HON." If you're familiar with Baltimore, you get it.

I also received a comment on my music-downloading piece from loyal reader Tripp, who has returned from a lengthy absence. Welcome back, friend! Tripp writes:

The music industry is in a downturn, and file-stealing makes it worse. Yes, I do think it is stealing, not sharing, but even so the music industry better come to grips with it. I think even though it is stealing, it is pretty much unstoppable.

My advice - target older audiences who are more likely to have disposable income and will be more likely to want to be 'honest' and reward the musicians. Personally I actually *like* paying for the computer games I really like, because I want to encourage the company to make more.

I think you're onto something here, Tripp. It's mostly younger people who are downloading music. They've come to regard sharing/stealing music as a sort of right, whereas older people are more inclined and able to pony up for CDs. You can try explaining to young people that artists make their living from albums, but until you've held a regular job and learned to pay your own way in life, it's hard to appreciate this.

The only problem is that young people will eventually grow up to be old. Will they realize the downside of sharing/stealing as they mature, or will downloading be so ingrained that they'll rebel at having to start paying? If it's the latter, the recording industry is fighting a losing battle by targeting older people.

(For what it's worth, I don't mind paying for CDs either. Not only does it ensure that artists will keep recording, but you might hear a song that you're not familiar with, but come to like quite a bit.)

Second, stop harrassing the youth. You can't MAKE people buy something. Well, except for insurance and the federal budget and, well, forget that. But you can't MAKE someone buy music. Well, you could if you bought enough congressman. But that is not yet likely. So accept the iTunes model of lower prices but more sales, and less pirating (hopefully).

Again, I think you're dead on. Whatever hope the recording industry has of getting young people back into the fold as they get older, they're squandering it with this lawsuit business. It just encourges the younger generation to think of recording companies as the enemy. Attacking your customer base is rarely considered good business practice.

I was thinking of this the other day. I really, really liked the "Lord of the Ring" movies, but what if the dynamics of the movie industry changed so that movies like that go the way of the pyramids? I would miss really big, good movies.

I don't need them, but they are a nice thing to have available. Movies will soon have the same copying problem as music. One difference I see is that DVD's seem to be more reasonably priced, and currently it takes about as long to copy a DVD as it does to watch it. Now that will speed up as the writers get faster, but I think most adults in the US would be willing to pay 15 bucks for a legal DVD of a movie they really like. Actually, I've heard that many rental places, charging up to 5 bucks are losing out to DVD sales. At some point you figure why not buy it and save the hassle of renting.

Another good point... I enjoy seeing big movies on the big screen as well. As long as DVDs are fairly reasonably priced, the scourge of downloading won't affect them as badly. The music-downloading craze started up in the wake of price-fixing allegations against recording companies. It gave downloading a certain moral legitimacy in the eyes of some. Of course, two wrongs don't make a right, but this rarely occurs to the young.

I think the biggest lesson we can learn from this is that new technology requires new business models. If record companies stubbornly cling to the old business model, or try to enforce it against the will of customers, they will fail. In order to hold onto the market, they'll have to innovate, either by finding ways to meet customer demand for MP3s, or finding ways to making CDs more attractive to purchase, or both. And throwing 12-year-olds in jail isn't the way to do it.

That's all for today. Tomorrow I may inaugurate a fun new feature here at Mediocre Fred. Stay tuned for details. See you tomorrow!  ¶ 1:28 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Centerfield" by John Fogerty

FRIDAY RAMBLING

Hey there, everybody! It's still overcast in the Fedroplex, but the gloom is starting to lift... the weekend forecast looks better. Let's see what news we might be able to find for our rambling pleasure today.

So now we've got Yawngate. The White House has assigned a press contact to the 13-year-old boy who yawned on-stage during one of Bush's speeches in Florida. The press contact says, "He's a young person who strongly supports the president and is excited about getting a chance to talk about it." Oh, come on. I think this story is ridiculous even by the usual standards of political dust-ups. The kid's a teenager. The speech was after midnight. He was tired. He yawned. So what? I don't know what's more astounding: The fact that it's a story at all, or the fact that the White House feels the need to spin it.

From the April Fool's Prank Gone Awry Dept.: A couple radio DJs in Evansville, Indiana, apologized for a prank they pulled yesterday. Here's the prank:

"Our idea was to mention several times that our thoughts and prayers were with the friends and family of Don Mattingly. Later in the morning, we planned on stating that he had nicked himself shaving and we were concerned for him," [DJ Brad] Booker said in a news release posted on the Evansville station's Web site.

Mattingly, by the way, is from Evansville. Not the funniest prank I've ever encountered, but not bad. One minor problem: Members of the Mattingly family, including two of Don's children, were listening to the station and assumed that something awful had happened to him. (Mattingly, his wife and eldest son were flying home from Tokyo at the time.) Apparently, the kids were quite shaken up about it, as I imagine most of us would be, if we thought our parents were seriously injured or dead.

Rule of thumb for future pranksters: If you're going to plan a joke around somebody's death, make sure the family's in the loop.

Story or non-story? Cowboys guard Larry Allen hasn't shown up for the team's off-season program this week. The off-season program is "voluntary," mind you, so you'd be forgiven for wondering, "Where's the story?" But the story says his absence "hasn't gone unnoticed," which implies strongly that the program is "voluntary" in name only. Also, Allen and Bill Parcells reportedly don't get along, and Allen was thinking of retiring.

I hope he does. Not because I'm a Skins fan, but because I've seen him play, and he doesn't look good out there. My dad and I were watching the Cowboys-Skins games last year, and Dad kept saying, "What's wrong with Larry Allen? He can't block anybody, and he looks like he's about to keel over." I had to agree. Allen looked winded all game, and he kept getting pushed around by the Skins' D-line. He looked to me like a guy who'd not only reached the end of the line, but a guy who might be risking his health by continuing to play. Allen used to be one of the greats. Here's hoping he'll take the hint and leave while we all still have good memories.

Great Thomas Boswell column this morning about how the balance of power in baseball is shifting back to the pitchers, now that a lot of hitters are getting off the juice. He makes excellent points, and it's refreshing to see someone speak openly about the widespread steroid problem, rather than playing this silly game of, "Well, we don't know if anyone's using" and "How dare anyone suggest these guys are using?" Worth a read.

Finally, I was perusing Roger Simon's archives yesterday, and I noticed this passage from a March 22, 2000 column:

Think there’s an election going on for president? Naw. Actually, the president and vice president are the only two elected federal offices that are not decided by popular vote. They are decided by the Electoral College. (You can look it up. It’s in the Constitution. Somewhere.) Can you name two times that the man who lost the popular vote won in the Electoral College and became president? That’s right: Rutherford B. Hayes in 1876 and Benjamin Harrison in 1888. And there’s nothing to prevent that from happening again.

Check that date again. Now, note that this was in the "Simon Says" column, which tends to be a lighter-side sort of thing. When he wrote that, it was trivia, a sort of "Did You Know?" item. Little did he realize that about nine months later, everyone would be painfully aware of this particular bit of trivia.

To give you an idea of the tone of that particular column, he also wrote: "Advice to Madonna: If you’re boyfriends keep getting the milk through the fence, they are not going to buy the cow" and "I don’t care what anybody says, lip balm is psychologically addicting." Wonder how many people noticed the above-referenced tidbit when the column came out?

All right, enough rambling. Have a great weekend!  ¶ 1:27 PM

  Today's Musical Selection: "Ball of Confusion" by the Temptations

OH, CANADA!

Hey there, everyone. The gray, drippy doldrums continue to grip the Fedroplex, but I found a subject that I thought was worth writing about: online music file-sharing. We have a couple pieces of news on the subject. First, a judge rules that file-sharing is, for all practical purposes, legal in Canada. Second, the U.S. House passed a bill that would subject file-sharers to jail. Call it the Tale of Two Countries.

Why the different attitudes? Legally speaking, Canadian copyright law has a large personal-use exemption, and that's the basis for the ruling. (At least that's my understanding; I'm not a lawyer and The Smart Lady's not around to help.) But I'm more interested in the cultural attitudes. Why is the Canadian government (which by most accounts applauds the judge's ruling) so friendly to file-sharing, and America so unfriendly?

Some will probably point to things like the looser attitude toward drugs and gay marriage in Canada, and conclude that our neighbor to the north is just more progressive and with it than we are. And there's something to that. But I think the more instructive example in this case is to look at prescription drugs.

The Canadian government imposes strict price controls on prescription medications, leading to prices that are significantly lower than in good old free-market America. (That's why people like Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich are pushing for the re-importation of drugs from Canada; the savings are very significant.) Canada argues (with justification) that a lot of people need these prescriptions to live, and therefore need to be able to afford them. Those in favor of America's current policy argue that drug companies need to be able to make money in order to afford research and development of new drugs. If price caps are imposed, drug companies will go bankrupt and then no one will have the pills they need to live. (America also has a longer period of patent protection on new drugs, on the theory that companies need to be able to recoup their investment in the drug's development.)

The difference in attitude comes down to differing perceptions of the drug companies: Canada believes that drug companies, in an open market, are profiting unfairly from customers who are literally dependent on the drugs for survival. (After all, if the price of your favorite soda goes up, you can always switch brands or stop drinking soda. If the price of your patent-protected blood-pressure medication goes up, you don't have these options.) America believes that drug companies are doing what they need to do to stay in business. In short, Canada looks out for its citizens first, while America looks out for the companies first.

Both sides have a point. If every market were as tightly price-controlled as Canada's, drug companies probably would have to cut back significantly on R&D, which is bad for everyone long-term, since it means that fewer new drugs come to market. On the other hand, without price caps (and without national health insurance to pick up the tab), there are plenty of people who can't afford the drugs they need, and that's not good, either.

But this isn't a discussion about prescription drugs. We're talking about music. The same attitudes, though, apply. Canada feels that recording companies are overcharging for music, and America feels that companies are doing what they need to stay in business.

The difference in this debate is that you don't need CDs to live. But there are still similarities: Each album is sold by one, and only one, recording company. If you want that album, you have to buy that company's copy. And as with drugs, there's a limited substitution ability: If a particular company is charging too much for Melissa Etheridge's latest album, buying the Chaka Khan album from the discount bin isn't a valid substitute. There's no "store brand" of Melissa Etheridge music that you can buy instead. So if the price of the album is inflated, you either grumble and pay or don't buy it at all.

Or at least those were your options before file-sharing came along. Now you can get all the songs of the album for free! Download them onto your computer, arrange them in the proper order, and it's just as good as having a CD. Any rational person, given this option, is likely to head straight for Napster or Kazaa.

But there's a problem, of course. If too many people stop buying CDs altogether, recording companies go bankrupt, and artists have no incentive to create new music. While the latter proposition might not be a bad thing in the case of, say, Britney Spears, it would be a shame if someone like Etheridge or Eric Clapton had to hang up his or her guitar because there's no money in it any more.

It's a classic economic dilemma: One producer has an established production and sales model and a stable price plan. A competitor comes along, offering the same good only better, more cheaply, or both. The original producer has two options: Modify the old business plan to level the playing field, or crush the competitor.

The recording industry has clearly chosen Plan B, and it strikes me as a mistake. Music consumers are already inclined to see recording companies as evil and greedy (and with that CD price-fixing lawsuit, who can blame them?), and leaning on Congress and the courts to let them attack their own consumers only adds fuel to the fire. The recording industry needs to collaborate with customers to find a new way to do business, rather than trying to crush them.

On the other hand, if file sharing really does cause a huge drop in CD sales, then we have a problem. (Although some studies dispute the negative effect; Ryan over at Dead Parrots Society wrote about this yesterday.) If people are abandoning CDs in large numbers and downloading music for free, artists are going to suffer.

Apple's iTunes service suggests a way out of this; they let you download songs individually for a small fee. This is good in two ways; one, it gets around the CD price-gouging issue, and two, most people only want two or three songs from any particular CD anyway, so this gives them the opportunity to just get what they want.

The recording industry should look at incorporating this model into their business plan. Better still would be if the artists could do it themselves. Music fans may hate the recording industry, but they don't hate the aritsts, and would like to see them compensated for their work. That's the thing most file-sharers don't think about; they see downloading as taking money out of the pocket of some slick-haired recording-industry exec, not from the artist. The Internet allows people to make more direct connections, and if artists were able to reach out directly to the fans, it would only strengthen the connection.

What do you think? Who's right on the file-sharing issue, Canada or America? Recording companies or downloaders? Is there a way to create a new model that takes care of everyone? Post your suggestions in the comments section, and let's discuss it.

Saw in the news yesterday that the Brewers dealt Wayne Franklin and Leo Estrella, a couple pitchers, to San Francisco. Estrella I never had strong feelings about one way or the other, but Wayne Franklin I was interested in. To me, he was symbolic of the state of the Brewers franchise. As a result, my emotions at seeing him go are distinctly mixed.

For those who aren't familiar (which is probably most of you), Franklin's a left-handed starter, 30 years old. He went 10-13 with a 5.50 ERA last year, which seems pretty anomalous (5.50 is a bad ERA for a guy with a 10-13 record). But I paid close attention to Franklin (in fact, he pitched the game I saw in Milwaukee) and I saw his problem. For about four or five innings, he was a pretty good pitchers. He wasn't going to make anyone forget Randy Johnson, but he worked out of trouble and kept the Brewers competitive. About the fifth or sixth inning, though, he'd start to wear out. He started getting wild. He couldn't work out of jams. He gave up way too many gopherballs. And getting the third out of the inning was a struggle to the death, it seemed.

A look at the record shows the problem. In 194 innings, he gave up 201 hits, which isn't so bad. However, he gave up 94 walks, which is bad, and 36 homers, which is very bad. He averaged about 5 2/3 innings a start, which is in line with what I remember. In short, Franklin was never going to be a great pitcher, but he had a shot at being decent. Had he been a little better, he would have been a perfectly good #3 or #4 starter. But he wasn't, and his failure was symbolic of the whole never-quite-good-enough Brewer team.

So now that Franklin's gone, I'm not sure how to feel. On the one hand, the fact that the Brewers think they can do better than Franklin is probably a good sign. On the other hand, I'll miss a guy who seemed to embody our struggles so well. Good luck, Wayne.

Finally, a very interesting column by Michael Wilbon on the Paul Hornung situation. Those of you familiar with Wilbon's work probably expected a ringing denunciation of Hornung. I know I did; Wilbon's usually very sensitive to people making dumb racial remarks. But like I did, or tried to do, yesterday, Wilbon argues that Hornung wasn't making a racist remark. Instead, he was arguing, clumsily, that Notre Dame needed to lower its academic standards in order to compete with football-factory schools like Nebraska and Florida State. He also argues that when Hornung was mentioning that Notre Dame needed to get more black players, he was referring to the skill-position players who are turned off by Notre Dame's creaky old-fashioned offense. Wilbon offers a testimonial to Hornung's progressiveness on race, and former black teammates have come forward in his defense as well.

I'm not sure what to make of Wilbon's argument. Enough folks have testified that Hornung isn't a racist that I believe it. The key difference between this and, say, Trent Lott's remarks on Strom Thurmond is that there were not a bunch of people rushing forward to say that Lott wasn't a racist. Instead, information came to light strongly suggesting that he is. But with Hornung, we have black players talking about how he went out of his way to make them comfortable, and Wilbon pointing out that Hornung was in favor of black quarterbacks before black quarterbacks were cool. So I'd have to agree that this wasn't a case of Hornung revealing a racist nature.

On the other hand, Hornung may have argued against Notre Dame's outmoded offense in the past, but that is not what he said in the interview. He made the explicit connection between lowering standards and black athletes. Now, thanks to the testimony of Wilbon and others, I believe that's not what he meant. So now I'm just puzzled. If Hornung's been making this argument for a long time now, how could he make such a hash of it this time? A man with a 35-year broadcasting career should be able to express himself better. I retract what I said yesterday about him being an idiot, but I'd like to know: What happened?

At any rate, that's enough for today. Slop tomorrow!  ¶ 12:50 PM