March 13, 2008
Silly question? What if racists don't know they're racists, and what if others of us make comments that can be construed as racist -- even though we know we're not racists.
Hasn't everybody run into this from time to time? Racism is so ingrained in our lives that if we make some "white" comment, there's likely to be some black around who takes umbrage. Why, by my having said "black" just there instead of African-American, I just offended somebody for sure.
I grew up in the Jim-Crow-segregated-South. We had to work at learning to pronounce Negro correctly. To call somebody "black" instead of "colored" was an insult. Then came the Black Power movement and it all changed. We tried to change with it. It has changed many times and probably will again. Not being in the wronged race, I am forced to accept their definition and to make allowances for hurt feelings where none was intended.
Probably a lot of white people get angry when once again they're told they have it wrong. Geraldine Ferraro, never the brightest bulb on the porch, came a cropper when she said this to a little small-town newspaper in her area:
"If Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position. And if he was a woman (of any color), he would not be in this position. He happens to be very lucky to be who he is. And the country is caught up in the concept."
To give her credit, I actually don't think she knew how that would sound. She may not have even known what she said. But she says it was not meant to disparage Obama, and that his operatives were wrong in considering it racist.
"If Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position." (He would not have garnered support from hundreds of thousands of young people, he would not have won a majority of the states holding Democratic primaries; he would not have won the Iowa caucus? What position does she think he is in that only a man with a Kenyan father and an American white mother could be in in this country?
Maybe by "this position" she meant to imply that he is the first man of African American origin to be this close to the nomination as standard bearer of a major political party. If he were a white man he certainly would not be in this position.
"And if he was a woman (of any color), he would not be in this position." Pardon me, but there is a woman in a very similar position.
"He happens to be very lucky to be who he is." I was under the impression that he got to be who he is, and in the position he is, by his own merit and considerable talents in convincing people that he deserves to be. This statement says out-and-out that it is because of his good luck in being a black man in the right place at the right time.
"And the country is caught up in the concept." Well, that kind of hurts my feelings, as Hillary Clinton famously said. I am more moved by Barack Obama than I have been by any Presidential candidate in my lifetime, but I think it's a little more than being caught up in the concept. I respect his mind, his eloquence, his promise to reach across the aisle and work with all Americans in making the country better. I fit pretty well into Hillary's (and perhaps even Geraldine's) demographic, an older, underpaid white female overachiever, but I would rather see Obama as the next President. Not because he's African American, nor in spite of it. Just because I listen to what he says and admire the way he says it.
He would never say anything as clumsy as Ferraro did, but if he did, he would know how and why to retract it. Whether she's a racist or not, I wouldn't say. She certainly doesn't think she is. But to blame Obama's troops for reading her remark that way, she certainly shows that she's clueless.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
The Re-Programmed Brain
March 9, 2008
It won't be many years before the human brain will be automatically programmed to change over to Daylight Savings Time without any prompting from media personalities.
It's happening incrementally already. A high percentage of my clocks went there by themselves this morning, and all I did was go to bed an hour early last night and I went right to sleep. When I awoke, it was bright and early, and the clock I had pushed forward on my own registered 6 A.M. so I hung around in bed for an hour and haven't noticed any nagging jetlag related sensations otherwise.
But there is a nagging sensation that this is getting too easy. They're letting us think we participate in the process by leaving our watches and a few clocks for us to turn. It's part of the computer-induced A.D.D. that governs our activities and gives us the constant stress that something is wrong, something is out there there must be done, but we don't know what.
Our lives are lived in brief compartments of time. We sit at computers and pride ourselves on our ability to multi-task; we assume our kids are brighter than previous generations because they master this technology at an early age. Our pace is accelerated and we feel as if we are always under stress. We cannot relax. We don’t sleep well.
We have relinquished a great deal in our worship of the great god Progress. We have not had time to process the future before we embraced it. The human brain was not designed to be at its best in the compressed, claustrophobic compartments we have created for it. Children, hurried to become adults, will never know what they missed. They will not know the pace of nature, of the gentle shift of seasons, or the inherent beauty of the planet. They are provided with organized activities to fill their time; their heads are pumped full of facts which have nothing to do with truth. They mistake, as their schools mistake, memorization for learning.
The spiritual is not in the program, unless it is seen as a way to amass more things or enhance one’s status. The spiritual side of life is seen as one of the steps toward the serenity we seek but never seem to find. In reality, to become truly spiritual is to step outside the materialism that surrounds us; it is a difficult and sometimes painful journey. The only way to arrive at that destination is the long way.
The fact is, we are all suffering from attention deficit disorder to some degree. Television has accustomed us all to the constant interruption of commercials and affected our ability to focus for longer periods of time. Our ability to meditate has been replaced by a need to be on top of all things at all times, to control the out of control, and to perform at our most intense if not most excellent level, or at least to give the appearance of doing so.
The price is high. We do not yet know what toll this compartmentalization has taken on our individual existence or society as a whole. Some of us are thrust into nostalgia at the thought of a low-pressure life and seek to recapture it if we can, even in some small measure. Some of us move to smaller communities, only to find them inhabited with other humans with attention deficits. We study, we write, we join committees, we choose politicians. But we are overwhelmed with the number of people who simply don’t understand and do not question.
It’s not about our communities or about our choice of television fare. It’s about a shift in our ability to reason with our own lives and think for ourselves. It’s about our need to cut off our feelings and present a solid front of surface ease by consuming material wealth and objects instead of building outwardly from a spiritual base.
It’s about making time for that very spiritual seeking. It’s about time. And time itself will one day be incorporated into the A.D.D. of our lives, as meaningless as simply saying the time is different when we want it to be, or when it is decided to be by someone else. It will be done with no fanfare, unperceptibly, and hardly anybody will notice.
It won't be many years before the human brain will be automatically programmed to change over to Daylight Savings Time without any prompting from media personalities.
It's happening incrementally already. A high percentage of my clocks went there by themselves this morning, and all I did was go to bed an hour early last night and I went right to sleep. When I awoke, it was bright and early, and the clock I had pushed forward on my own registered 6 A.M. so I hung around in bed for an hour and haven't noticed any nagging jetlag related sensations otherwise.
But there is a nagging sensation that this is getting too easy. They're letting us think we participate in the process by leaving our watches and a few clocks for us to turn. It's part of the computer-induced A.D.D. that governs our activities and gives us the constant stress that something is wrong, something is out there there must be done, but we don't know what.
Our lives are lived in brief compartments of time. We sit at computers and pride ourselves on our ability to multi-task; we assume our kids are brighter than previous generations because they master this technology at an early age. Our pace is accelerated and we feel as if we are always under stress. We cannot relax. We don’t sleep well.
We have relinquished a great deal in our worship of the great god Progress. We have not had time to process the future before we embraced it. The human brain was not designed to be at its best in the compressed, claustrophobic compartments we have created for it. Children, hurried to become adults, will never know what they missed. They will not know the pace of nature, of the gentle shift of seasons, or the inherent beauty of the planet. They are provided with organized activities to fill their time; their heads are pumped full of facts which have nothing to do with truth. They mistake, as their schools mistake, memorization for learning.
The spiritual is not in the program, unless it is seen as a way to amass more things or enhance one’s status. The spiritual side of life is seen as one of the steps toward the serenity we seek but never seem to find. In reality, to become truly spiritual is to step outside the materialism that surrounds us; it is a difficult and sometimes painful journey. The only way to arrive at that destination is the long way.
The fact is, we are all suffering from attention deficit disorder to some degree. Television has accustomed us all to the constant interruption of commercials and affected our ability to focus for longer periods of time. Our ability to meditate has been replaced by a need to be on top of all things at all times, to control the out of control, and to perform at our most intense if not most excellent level, or at least to give the appearance of doing so.
The price is high. We do not yet know what toll this compartmentalization has taken on our individual existence or society as a whole. Some of us are thrust into nostalgia at the thought of a low-pressure life and seek to recapture it if we can, even in some small measure. Some of us move to smaller communities, only to find them inhabited with other humans with attention deficits. We study, we write, we join committees, we choose politicians. But we are overwhelmed with the number of people who simply don’t understand and do not question.
It’s not about our communities or about our choice of television fare. It’s about a shift in our ability to reason with our own lives and think for ourselves. It’s about our need to cut off our feelings and present a solid front of surface ease by consuming material wealth and objects instead of building outwardly from a spiritual base.
It’s about making time for that very spiritual seeking. It’s about time. And time itself will one day be incorporated into the A.D.D. of our lives, as meaningless as simply saying the time is different when we want it to be, or when it is decided to be by someone else. It will be done with no fanfare, unperceptibly, and hardly anybody will notice.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Failure To Launch
March 7, 2008
It was to have been the start of something big. It was to have been my entree into a new phase of life in Hoboken.
Wednesday night I was to be at a big fund-raiser, sitting at the table with the chairman of the board, at the chic-est restaurant in town. There would be important people there, and I didn't know any of them, not even the chairman. I had bought some new clothes and I couldn't wait.
Sunday night I had the signs of some kind of cold or flu. I took my usual cold prevention remedies. I went to bed early, feeling I had nipped whatever it was in the bud. Monday I had my hair done and ate some soup. I bought some cough drops and sore throat lozenges. My throat was hurting. But I thought I was okay.
Tuesday it was worse. Feeling feverish, I went back to bed and slept most of the day. Wednesday I thought I was going to be fine. I met Cristina at Starbuck's at 1, having slept most of the morning, and had a chai latté, which soothed the pain somewhat, but I was feeling woozy and thought a little more sleep would brace me for the big event.
When I hit the bed I couldn't get up. I was getting worse. Whatever it was had given me chills, fever, the old runny nose; and I could hardly walk when I did get up. There was nothing to be done for it but to call the chairman of the board and tell him that I was sorry, I was indisposed, I just wasn't going to be able to make it. He was gracious and sympathetic, and all I could do was stagger over to the bed, fall in, and sleep for another day and night.
Yesterday it was all over. My big night hadn't happened. The crisis was past, my fever symptoms gone, but now I just had a sore throat and cold. I had an appointment for x-rays and bone density exam, just across from Starbuck's as a matter of fact, so it meant another six-block walk in the cold, but I did it happily. The x-ray clinic was comforting and efficient. Now maybe I'll get to the bottom of that pain and stiffness in my left shoulder, and maybe we'll find that my bone density is good enough that I won't have to go on calcium. But do they have a cure for the common cold?
Colds for me almost always descend into laryngitis at the end. I must conserve my voice. I must keep drinking tea. I must hydrate. I must prepare myself for my next opportunity to make my splash in Hoboken.
It was to have been the start of something big. It was to have been my entree into a new phase of life in Hoboken.
Wednesday night I was to be at a big fund-raiser, sitting at the table with the chairman of the board, at the chic-est restaurant in town. There would be important people there, and I didn't know any of them, not even the chairman. I had bought some new clothes and I couldn't wait.
Sunday night I had the signs of some kind of cold or flu. I took my usual cold prevention remedies. I went to bed early, feeling I had nipped whatever it was in the bud. Monday I had my hair done and ate some soup. I bought some cough drops and sore throat lozenges. My throat was hurting. But I thought I was okay.
Tuesday it was worse. Feeling feverish, I went back to bed and slept most of the day. Wednesday I thought I was going to be fine. I met Cristina at Starbuck's at 1, having slept most of the morning, and had a chai latté, which soothed the pain somewhat, but I was feeling woozy and thought a little more sleep would brace me for the big event.
When I hit the bed I couldn't get up. I was getting worse. Whatever it was had given me chills, fever, the old runny nose; and I could hardly walk when I did get up. There was nothing to be done for it but to call the chairman of the board and tell him that I was sorry, I was indisposed, I just wasn't going to be able to make it. He was gracious and sympathetic, and all I could do was stagger over to the bed, fall in, and sleep for another day and night.
Yesterday it was all over. My big night hadn't happened. The crisis was past, my fever symptoms gone, but now I just had a sore throat and cold. I had an appointment for x-rays and bone density exam, just across from Starbuck's as a matter of fact, so it meant another six-block walk in the cold, but I did it happily. The x-ray clinic was comforting and efficient. Now maybe I'll get to the bottom of that pain and stiffness in my left shoulder, and maybe we'll find that my bone density is good enough that I won't have to go on calcium. But do they have a cure for the common cold?
Colds for me almost always descend into laryngitis at the end. I must conserve my voice. I must keep drinking tea. I must hydrate. I must prepare myself for my next opportunity to make my splash in Hoboken.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Going Forward
March 5, 2008
Lots of activities on the Hoboken horizon, and none of them has anything to do with that political dust-up that happened yesterday, so I'm going to look forward and hope things go my way eventually in the Democratic world. There's been enough second-guessing, and most people ignore that three weeks ago Clinton was ahead by double digits in the two big ones, meaning the Obama did a good job of closing the gap even though he had been pretty well Swift-boated by her groundless charges. The Clinton people drew blood, and that's not likely to stop. Everybody knows going negative works. The question is whether Obama can keep his cool and land a few blows of his own.
In case he has actually forgotten or is not simply above bringing it up, there are a number of skeletons in the Clinton White House closets that might get Hillary's dander up (and she can scream, "No fair! I'm a girl!"). I don't mean the bimbos either. Does the country need reminding of Travelgate, Vince Foster, and the inability to get a health care plan approved? When she talks about 35 years of foreign policy experience, exactly what is she referring to? She says she never approved of NAFTA, and that was the jewel in the crown Bill Clinton's Presidency, even though it was a carryover from Bush the First. Does anybody remember the gridlock with the Republican majority in the Senate and the House? That is the kind of thing Obama can overcome, and Hillary Clinton cannot. Did she prove herself a world leader by making a speech at the World Conference of Women in China? (And she was so critical of Obama for "just" making speeches!)
I wasn't going to get into this. I'm looking forward, and I do believe this political stuff will work out. Obama has to show his ability to throw a punch as well as respond to hers. He has to outclass her by knowing when to stop. We've all seen what a quick study he is; now that he's in the home stretch maybe he'll pick up the pace.
In the meantime, it's spring, almost, in Hoboken, showers and temps in the 50's. I've caught a cold and I have a big date tonight. I'm going to be meeting new people, and going somewhere I've never been. I'm going forward. Can't do anything about yesterday.
Lots of activities on the Hoboken horizon, and none of them has anything to do with that political dust-up that happened yesterday, so I'm going to look forward and hope things go my way eventually in the Democratic world. There's been enough second-guessing, and most people ignore that three weeks ago Clinton was ahead by double digits in the two big ones, meaning the Obama did a good job of closing the gap even though he had been pretty well Swift-boated by her groundless charges. The Clinton people drew blood, and that's not likely to stop. Everybody knows going negative works. The question is whether Obama can keep his cool and land a few blows of his own.
In case he has actually forgotten or is not simply above bringing it up, there are a number of skeletons in the Clinton White House closets that might get Hillary's dander up (and she can scream, "No fair! I'm a girl!"). I don't mean the bimbos either. Does the country need reminding of Travelgate, Vince Foster, and the inability to get a health care plan approved? When she talks about 35 years of foreign policy experience, exactly what is she referring to? She says she never approved of NAFTA, and that was the jewel in the crown Bill Clinton's Presidency, even though it was a carryover from Bush the First. Does anybody remember the gridlock with the Republican majority in the Senate and the House? That is the kind of thing Obama can overcome, and Hillary Clinton cannot. Did she prove herself a world leader by making a speech at the World Conference of Women in China? (And she was so critical of Obama for "just" making speeches!)
I wasn't going to get into this. I'm looking forward, and I do believe this political stuff will work out. Obama has to show his ability to throw a punch as well as respond to hers. He has to outclass her by knowing when to stop. We've all seen what a quick study he is; now that he's in the home stretch maybe he'll pick up the pace.
In the meantime, it's spring, almost, in Hoboken, showers and temps in the 50's. I've caught a cold and I have a big date tonight. I'm going to be meeting new people, and going somewhere I've never been. I'm going forward. Can't do anything about yesterday.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Campaign Promises, Promising Campaigns
March 3, 2008
I've seen a lot of races for the United States Presidency, but nothing like this one.
A lifelong Liberal Democrat, who has veered from that position only when the Democrats weren't liberal enough, I knew from the outset I knew that I would not be supporting Hillary Clinton. Painted as a Liberal by the Republican party, she always seemed pretty much a cipher to me -- she would go the way the wind blows and alienate tons of people on both sides in the process. I wanted her to state her positions.
To her credit, she did. Forced out of her cocoon of protective handlers, she has had to speak up and even take interviews that were not scripted. She has proved herself a thoroughbred, with her expensive haircuts and makeup (take that, John Edwards!), and, despite veering toward fishwife from time to time, she just may come up trumps in the primaries tomorrow. She is unflappable and seems to be undauntable as well.
As for those positions, well, they are almost identical to those of her opponent, Barack Obama. Their "debates" looked as if she were trying to define how many angels could dance on the head of pin to prove that her policies were more valid than his, even though there was little difference, and everybody knows there is not much chance that the policies either one advocates will ever get past the Republican opposition.
But I have come to see that she has the right stuff as a campaigner, something that no matter how she talks about experience, she really hasn't shown us before. Her 35 years were mostly spent in supporting that wastril husband of hers, and the fact is she hasn't had all that much legislative background, nor all that much experience in electoral politics herself.
What has made the race unusual is her opponent. Seldom has such a star as Barack Obama come onto the political scene in this country or anywhere else. Where Sen. Clinton was proclaimed "inevitable" to win the Democratic nomination in a walk, his organizational talents and personal charisma began shellacking her as soon as he won Iowa.
No one could have anticipated his meteoric rise. The press, said by the Clinton forces to be favoring him, were only reporting what they saw. Crowds of 20,000 in Boise? The word unprecedented comes to mind.
Politicians have always talked about change. It used to be a cry of "I'll clean up the mess in Washington," or "It's time to throw the bums out!" Obama talks about something else entirely. He talks about personal transformation, not unlike the kind his supporter Oprah Winfrey espouses, but his vision is that such change can take place for the whole country, at once, if "we" work together and commit to make it happen.
A glorious vision, obviously. One that cannot be defeated by calling it a fairy tale or by mocking it with the strident sarcasm Clinton used in a recent speech in Ohio. It made her look as if she didn't understand. She is pragmatic, businesslike; he has his head in the clouds. She is competent, he is näive. In other words, she doesn't get it. The fact is, probably she does, and is in her heart of hearts, scared to death that she might not win.
The crowds that respond to Barack Obama are not all impressionable youngsters. Look behind him when he's making a speech -- look at the faces, all colors, all ages, men and women. They are not all fainting. They are not gullible losers. They are America, they are tired of not being involved, being ignored, being treated as important only in the trivial power of the vote. They want to matter, and whatever happens tomorrow, they will matter in a new way, because of Barack Obama, from now on.
It's been an exciting campaign, and will continue to be so until November and beyond. This one was not dreamed up by a couple of ad agency guys after Scotch and cigars. It was dreamed up by us.
I've seen a lot of races for the United States Presidency, but nothing like this one.
A lifelong Liberal Democrat, who has veered from that position only when the Democrats weren't liberal enough, I knew from the outset I knew that I would not be supporting Hillary Clinton. Painted as a Liberal by the Republican party, she always seemed pretty much a cipher to me -- she would go the way the wind blows and alienate tons of people on both sides in the process. I wanted her to state her positions.
To her credit, she did. Forced out of her cocoon of protective handlers, she has had to speak up and even take interviews that were not scripted. She has proved herself a thoroughbred, with her expensive haircuts and makeup (take that, John Edwards!), and, despite veering toward fishwife from time to time, she just may come up trumps in the primaries tomorrow. She is unflappable and seems to be undauntable as well.
As for those positions, well, they are almost identical to those of her opponent, Barack Obama. Their "debates" looked as if she were trying to define how many angels could dance on the head of pin to prove that her policies were more valid than his, even though there was little difference, and everybody knows there is not much chance that the policies either one advocates will ever get past the Republican opposition.
But I have come to see that she has the right stuff as a campaigner, something that no matter how she talks about experience, she really hasn't shown us before. Her 35 years were mostly spent in supporting that wastril husband of hers, and the fact is she hasn't had all that much legislative background, nor all that much experience in electoral politics herself.
What has made the race unusual is her opponent. Seldom has such a star as Barack Obama come onto the political scene in this country or anywhere else. Where Sen. Clinton was proclaimed "inevitable" to win the Democratic nomination in a walk, his organizational talents and personal charisma began shellacking her as soon as he won Iowa.
No one could have anticipated his meteoric rise. The press, said by the Clinton forces to be favoring him, were only reporting what they saw. Crowds of 20,000 in Boise? The word unprecedented comes to mind.
Politicians have always talked about change. It used to be a cry of "I'll clean up the mess in Washington," or "It's time to throw the bums out!" Obama talks about something else entirely. He talks about personal transformation, not unlike the kind his supporter Oprah Winfrey espouses, but his vision is that such change can take place for the whole country, at once, if "we" work together and commit to make it happen.
A glorious vision, obviously. One that cannot be defeated by calling it a fairy tale or by mocking it with the strident sarcasm Clinton used in a recent speech in Ohio. It made her look as if she didn't understand. She is pragmatic, businesslike; he has his head in the clouds. She is competent, he is näive. In other words, she doesn't get it. The fact is, probably she does, and is in her heart of hearts, scared to death that she might not win.
The crowds that respond to Barack Obama are not all impressionable youngsters. Look behind him when he's making a speech -- look at the faces, all colors, all ages, men and women. They are not all fainting. They are not gullible losers. They are America, they are tired of not being involved, being ignored, being treated as important only in the trivial power of the vote. They want to matter, and whatever happens tomorrow, they will matter in a new way, because of Barack Obama, from now on.
It's been an exciting campaign, and will continue to be so until November and beyond. This one was not dreamed up by a couple of ad agency guys after Scotch and cigars. It was dreamed up by us.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
I Remember Buckley
March 2, 2008
This may be a little late in coming, but it took me a few days to understand that William F. Buckley really is gone. Then I realized that everybody else had more to say about that fact than I did, and probably could say it better.
I come at this from the other side. I was not a sycophant for Buckley, not that he would have wanted me as such. But I did live in New York City in the 1960's, among the unabashed Liberals of the day, to whom he was an erudite gadfly who tended to use obscure five-syllable words when short, familiar ones would have worked as well, to lead the reader/listener to conclusions that were invariably wrong. He was amusing, larger-than-life, and definitely someone you'd like to meet at a party, but his political stance was as indefensible as it was incomprehensible.
Over the years, like any self-respecting, self-conscious and guilt-ridden Liberal, I have had to reexamine my political viewpoint time and again. It wasn't difficult to break with the Democrats, who seemed so corrupt as to do the expedient thing always, without regard to principle. On the other hand, the Republicans seemed to be in the same boat, never offering a clear alternative. By now, the job of government seems to be in the hands of the advertising agencies and other opportunists to whom getting a candidate elected is not just a step in the democratic process, it is the only goal. The parties have sold out, giving lip service to the old dogma, but not bearing it out in practice.
William F. Buckley was always steadfast. I read a column of his several years ago which explained to me for the first time the moment in which the Democrats became Liberal, laying out the philosophy of Woodrow Wilson which assumed government was there to make people's personal lives better. This, to him, was the beginning of the corruption of politics. It was a well-thought-out premise and it caused me to think. I see Liberals taking advantage of Government programs all the time, and it bothers me greatly. On the other hand, I see Conservatives who seem to honor money and war over all things; this bothers me even more. Thanks to Buckley, I think about Woodrow Wilson and FDR and even John F. Kennedy, and regret what they have wrought, however right their intentions may have been.
Buckley himself eventually rose above the fray and became the Grand Old Man of the Conservative cause. His impishness and brilliance never left him, and with his patrician demeanor he inspired generations of pundits-to-be. This may be his legacy, but I doubt it would have been the one he wanted. Those of us who were present during his apogee would never have imagined in those days how lucky we were to have seen and heard him in prime.
This may be a little late in coming, but it took me a few days to understand that William F. Buckley really is gone. Then I realized that everybody else had more to say about that fact than I did, and probably could say it better.
I come at this from the other side. I was not a sycophant for Buckley, not that he would have wanted me as such. But I did live in New York City in the 1960's, among the unabashed Liberals of the day, to whom he was an erudite gadfly who tended to use obscure five-syllable words when short, familiar ones would have worked as well, to lead the reader/listener to conclusions that were invariably wrong. He was amusing, larger-than-life, and definitely someone you'd like to meet at a party, but his political stance was as indefensible as it was incomprehensible.
Over the years, like any self-respecting, self-conscious and guilt-ridden Liberal, I have had to reexamine my political viewpoint time and again. It wasn't difficult to break with the Democrats, who seemed so corrupt as to do the expedient thing always, without regard to principle. On the other hand, the Republicans seemed to be in the same boat, never offering a clear alternative. By now, the job of government seems to be in the hands of the advertising agencies and other opportunists to whom getting a candidate elected is not just a step in the democratic process, it is the only goal. The parties have sold out, giving lip service to the old dogma, but not bearing it out in practice.
William F. Buckley was always steadfast. I read a column of his several years ago which explained to me for the first time the moment in which the Democrats became Liberal, laying out the philosophy of Woodrow Wilson which assumed government was there to make people's personal lives better. This, to him, was the beginning of the corruption of politics. It was a well-thought-out premise and it caused me to think. I see Liberals taking advantage of Government programs all the time, and it bothers me greatly. On the other hand, I see Conservatives who seem to honor money and war over all things; this bothers me even more. Thanks to Buckley, I think about Woodrow Wilson and FDR and even John F. Kennedy, and regret what they have wrought, however right their intentions may have been.
Buckley himself eventually rose above the fray and became the Grand Old Man of the Conservative cause. His impishness and brilliance never left him, and with his patrician demeanor he inspired generations of pundits-to-be. This may be his legacy, but I doubt it would have been the one he wanted. Those of us who were present during his apogee would never have imagined in those days how lucky we were to have seen and heard him in prime.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Happy St. Patrick's...Er...Weeks
March 1, 2007
Did I mention that Hoboken knows how to party?
St' Patrick's Day, traditionally a day for the Irish to put on silly t-shirts and hats, parade through the streets, and get as drunk as they like, begins here today and will go on until at least March 17, the day the rest of the world knows as the day of the departed saint's birth.
There's going to be a parade down Washington Street this afternoon. Bars will open at 11 A.M., and if you're interested in standing in a line in the freezing rain to get in, the lines form at 10. Hoboken's blogs are active with advice on how to manage alcohol intake by starting early and going slow, eating a little sump'n-sump'n during the day and drinking water as you go. All of which I might have done some 30 years ago, but doesn't appeal to me today. I want to be a part of it, being a newcomer; I have to see what is known as Amateur Day around here. Not that I haven't seen this kind of thing before, but not lately, not here. We have Mardi Gras in Lower Alabama, and I've seen many drunken spectacles including New Year's Eve in London, but I haven't yet experienced St. Pat's in Hoboken.
I had an idea that even sounds lame to me at 7:15 in the morning when I was sipping my morning Joe. I'm remembering a trip to Dublin in the distant past, a grey and drizzly day, when my husband and I sought shelter for lunch in a beautiful restaurant called Davy Jones. We laced the meal with Irish coffee, and suddenly came to an understanding of the best way to view the Emerald Isle. When the emerged from our lengthy meal, glowing from the warm brew which included no small amount of Bushmill's, Dublin and all of Ireland looked beautiful and welcoming, just as we had been told it was.
I wonder if there is some way I can squeeze into a bar at some point in the day and obtain an Irish coffee. Starbuck's wouldn't have it. Amanda's, the elegant Hoboken restaurant, wouldn't sell just coffee. The bars will be full of reveling 20-somethings who will wonder what that old lady is doing there. (Not there there won't be a few old men among them, if I know my Irish.) I'm in the mood to sit in a room and watch people get stupid. Kind of. Would they let me in if I'm not wearing green?
I wonder where I can get something green to wear at this point. I'm going to need to wear it every day for the next two weeks anyway.
Then again, maybe the best way to meet fun people today is to find the nearest AA meeting.
Did I mention that Hoboken knows how to party?
St' Patrick's Day, traditionally a day for the Irish to put on silly t-shirts and hats, parade through the streets, and get as drunk as they like, begins here today and will go on until at least March 17, the day the rest of the world knows as the day of the departed saint's birth.
There's going to be a parade down Washington Street this afternoon. Bars will open at 11 A.M., and if you're interested in standing in a line in the freezing rain to get in, the lines form at 10. Hoboken's blogs are active with advice on how to manage alcohol intake by starting early and going slow, eating a little sump'n-sump'n during the day and drinking water as you go. All of which I might have done some 30 years ago, but doesn't appeal to me today. I want to be a part of it, being a newcomer; I have to see what is known as Amateur Day around here. Not that I haven't seen this kind of thing before, but not lately, not here. We have Mardi Gras in Lower Alabama, and I've seen many drunken spectacles including New Year's Eve in London, but I haven't yet experienced St. Pat's in Hoboken.
I had an idea that even sounds lame to me at 7:15 in the morning when I was sipping my morning Joe. I'm remembering a trip to Dublin in the distant past, a grey and drizzly day, when my husband and I sought shelter for lunch in a beautiful restaurant called Davy Jones. We laced the meal with Irish coffee, and suddenly came to an understanding of the best way to view the Emerald Isle. When the emerged from our lengthy meal, glowing from the warm brew which included no small amount of Bushmill's, Dublin and all of Ireland looked beautiful and welcoming, just as we had been told it was.
I wonder if there is some way I can squeeze into a bar at some point in the day and obtain an Irish coffee. Starbuck's wouldn't have it. Amanda's, the elegant Hoboken restaurant, wouldn't sell just coffee. The bars will be full of reveling 20-somethings who will wonder what that old lady is doing there. (Not there there won't be a few old men among them, if I know my Irish.) I'm in the mood to sit in a room and watch people get stupid. Kind of. Would they let me in if I'm not wearing green?
I wonder where I can get something green to wear at this point. I'm going to need to wear it every day for the next two weeks anyway.
Then again, maybe the best way to meet fun people today is to find the nearest AA meeting.
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