Not very exciting, huh?
Can you believe that Sammy Sosa signing a new contract isn't exciting? Hard for me to imagine. If you've been under the sea for the last ten years, Sammy is the former Cubs' right fielder who has exceeded 60 home runs more than any other player in MLB history. He was the fan favorite who ran hard to rightfield every day. The guy who carried an American flag with him after 9-11. Who helped Mark McGwire through his grumpy days in 1998, and carried him to the most fun and most dramatic baseball duel in my lifetime.
But he's also the guy who used a corked bat. And is roundly suspected, if not presumed, to have used steroids to get to those heights. And, like McGwire, he wasn't helped by that day on Capitol Hill when Sammy forgot how to speak English. And that happened after he fell out with the Cubs and left the last game of 2004 while the game was just starting. Then there was the pitiful 2005 season in Baltimore.
Sammy is 38 now. He disappeared for a year. He has just signed a minor league deal with the Rangers. He's going home. The Rangers were his original organization. You may recall that a bone-headed owner in Texas once traded Sammy to the White Sox for a worn out, over the hill Harold Baines. That guy moved on to make bad decisions for the whole state of Texas, and is now responsible for the needless deaths of over 3,000 American men and women in a totally unjustifiable war in Iraq. It's a real, genuine shame that the people of our nation couldn't recognize that that buffoon couldn't run a baseball team, or any of several oil companies that he rode into the ground; why did anyone ever think this idiot could run a country? But I digress.
Sammy's gone home.
I hope he makes it.
I sat in the stands in Wrigley and watched Sammy charge out to right field. You can't fake that kind of hustle. I watched his reaction from the stands in Busch when Big Mac tied Maris, and then had the TV on the next night when Mac hit #62. You can't fake that kind of decency. I treasure that smile, bright enough to light a small city. You can't fake that kind of enthusiasm. Sammy was everything that's good about baseball.
I hope he can be again.
We Americans like to build people up. And then tear them down. But, perhaps most of all, we like to see them rise again. If people like Paris Hilton, who have never done anything but take up space in this world, can be forgiven to rise to great heights (she still ain't done nothing worth the air she uses up), then surely we can root for Sammy Sosa, the shoe polishing kid from the streets of the Dominican, who brought so much joy to so many people during his brilliant run with the Cubs. After all, Harry Caray defended Sammy relentlessly. And Harry's word was always good enough for me.
Good luck, Sammy. Here's one fan who's rooting for you, big time!
Monday, January 29, 2007
Monday, January 15, 2007
What Makes a Hall of Famer?
Apart from the time qualification-five years retired, no more than 15 years on the Baseball Writers' ballot-there is only one line in the Hall of Fame's guidelines on how to judge candidates who are not on Baseball's ineligible list:
"Voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played."
That's it. No more, no less.
Pete Rose is on the ineligible list. He won't be part of this discussion.
Mark McGwire is not on the ineligible list. He is the point of this discussion.
Big Mac used Andro. Everybody knows it. It was found in his locker during the Summer of 1998. He answered questions about it. It wasn't against Baseball's rules. Mac is suspected of using other substances. He has been accused by Jose Canseco of using anabolic steroids. His physical appearance changed significantly from his days as a skinny pitcher at USC to the years of The Great Home Run Chase. My appearance has changed significantly since college days, too, although not as impressively as McGwire's.
Mark McGwire never failed a drug test. He wasn't given one. Because whatever he and Sammy Sosa were doing in 1998, Baseball loved it. Cal Ripken had done a remarkable job rescuing Baseball after the 1994 debacle. Big Mac and Sammy took it to new heights in 1998. Attendance soared, merchandise sales went berserk, tickets just disappeared wherever the two sluggers showed up. And we showed up early. 15,000, 20,000, 25,000 were going to the parks for batting practice every day that the Cardinals were playing. Do the math: when crowds show up in those numbers at 5 pm, you've got them for the night. Concessions, souvenirs, t shirts, jerseys, bats, games for the kids, everything for sale at the ball park did land-office business.
Nobody wanted to ask any questions.
It was too much fun, so we fans didn't want to know.
It was too good for business, so management didn't want to know.
It was making all of his bone-headed decisions recede in everyone's memory, so Bud Selig sure didn't want to know.
And the Baseball Writers had the best story of their generation, so they didn't report on the whispers, the accusations, what they all claim to have known in retrospect.
Mac retired after the 2001 season because he could no longer play every day, rather than collect what I believe was another $30 Million in guaranteed money that would have been paid to him if he had been an everyday player, an infrequent pinch-hitter, or a name on the Disabled List. That's what I call integrity.
Mark and Sammy exulted in sharing the stage in 1998. The reactions of one to the other's exploits were amazing. The Cubs', The Cubs', reaction to Mark's 62nd, and his sharing it with Roger Maris' family were moments indelibly imprinted in my mind. That's what I call sportsmanship.
Mark gave and gives his money and his time on behalf of abused children. That's what I call character.
He single-handedly kept the Cardinals' attendance at World Series year levels when they were a very average team. And while a very private man, he endured the endless media demands at every stop. That's what I call contributing to your team.
His 586 Home Runs rank 7th all-time. His .982 OPS ranks 11th all-time. That's performance, by any standard.
Does the question of steroid use so influence the character issue so as to keep McGwire out of the Hall of Fame? That's the only question. That's the only argument. And don't give me his lifetime batting average. When Mac retired in 2001, everybody-that's EVERYBODY-assumed that three first ballot inductees would be announced this January. Is the character of a man who was never tested for steroids so sullied by an albeit poor performance before a congressional committee that he can't be included with those already in the Hall of Fame?
Assume Mac used steroids. Does that make him worse than Cap Anson, the man universally credited/blamed with instituting Baseball's color line that would stand from the 1800's until Jackie Robinson and Branch Rickey started the process of erasing it in 1947?
Assume Mac used steroids. Does that make him worse than Ty Cobb? Cobb went into the stands and beat a heckler who had been born without arms. Cobb slapped a black elevator operator, and when the hotel's black nightwatchman tried to intervene, Cobb stabbed him for his efforts.
Assume Mac used steroids. Does that make him worse than committed alcoholics Jimmie Foxx, Hack Wilson and Grover Cleveland Alexander? Worse than suspended gambler Leo Durocher? Worse than the skirt-chasing, beer-swilling, gorging to the point of being unable to play Babe Ruth? Worse than any number of amphetamine-popping players from the 60's and 70's who also never tested positive because they weren't tested either?
Rafael Palmeiro changed the terms of his debate when he tested positive. If Bonds tested positive for amphetamines, that changes his position. But Mark McGwire retired before testing came in. And one of our leading principles as Americans has always been that a person cannot be prosecuted with laws that were enacted after the fact.
Mark McGwire may well have used steroids. In fact, he probably did. But even if he did, there are far, far worse characters already enshrined in Cooperstown, and I haven't heard the Defenders of Purity in the Baseball Writers' Association of America calling for a purge of all the bad actors in Baseball's history.
Big Mac belongs in Cooperstown. And all the writers, executives and fans who now say otherwise are nothing but hypocrites.
"Voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played."
That's it. No more, no less.
Pete Rose is on the ineligible list. He won't be part of this discussion.
Mark McGwire is not on the ineligible list. He is the point of this discussion.
Big Mac used Andro. Everybody knows it. It was found in his locker during the Summer of 1998. He answered questions about it. It wasn't against Baseball's rules. Mac is suspected of using other substances. He has been accused by Jose Canseco of using anabolic steroids. His physical appearance changed significantly from his days as a skinny pitcher at USC to the years of The Great Home Run Chase. My appearance has changed significantly since college days, too, although not as impressively as McGwire's.
Mark McGwire never failed a drug test. He wasn't given one. Because whatever he and Sammy Sosa were doing in 1998, Baseball loved it. Cal Ripken had done a remarkable job rescuing Baseball after the 1994 debacle. Big Mac and Sammy took it to new heights in 1998. Attendance soared, merchandise sales went berserk, tickets just disappeared wherever the two sluggers showed up. And we showed up early. 15,000, 20,000, 25,000 were going to the parks for batting practice every day that the Cardinals were playing. Do the math: when crowds show up in those numbers at 5 pm, you've got them for the night. Concessions, souvenirs, t shirts, jerseys, bats, games for the kids, everything for sale at the ball park did land-office business.
Nobody wanted to ask any questions.
It was too much fun, so we fans didn't want to know.
It was too good for business, so management didn't want to know.
It was making all of his bone-headed decisions recede in everyone's memory, so Bud Selig sure didn't want to know.
And the Baseball Writers had the best story of their generation, so they didn't report on the whispers, the accusations, what they all claim to have known in retrospect.
Mac retired after the 2001 season because he could no longer play every day, rather than collect what I believe was another $30 Million in guaranteed money that would have been paid to him if he had been an everyday player, an infrequent pinch-hitter, or a name on the Disabled List. That's what I call integrity.
Mark and Sammy exulted in sharing the stage in 1998. The reactions of one to the other's exploits were amazing. The Cubs', The Cubs', reaction to Mark's 62nd, and his sharing it with Roger Maris' family were moments indelibly imprinted in my mind. That's what I call sportsmanship.
Mark gave and gives his money and his time on behalf of abused children. That's what I call character.
He single-handedly kept the Cardinals' attendance at World Series year levels when they were a very average team. And while a very private man, he endured the endless media demands at every stop. That's what I call contributing to your team.
His 586 Home Runs rank 7th all-time. His .982 OPS ranks 11th all-time. That's performance, by any standard.
Does the question of steroid use so influence the character issue so as to keep McGwire out of the Hall of Fame? That's the only question. That's the only argument. And don't give me his lifetime batting average. When Mac retired in 2001, everybody-that's EVERYBODY-assumed that three first ballot inductees would be announced this January. Is the character of a man who was never tested for steroids so sullied by an albeit poor performance before a congressional committee that he can't be included with those already in the Hall of Fame?
Assume Mac used steroids. Does that make him worse than Cap Anson, the man universally credited/blamed with instituting Baseball's color line that would stand from the 1800's until Jackie Robinson and Branch Rickey started the process of erasing it in 1947?
Assume Mac used steroids. Does that make him worse than Ty Cobb? Cobb went into the stands and beat a heckler who had been born without arms. Cobb slapped a black elevator operator, and when the hotel's black nightwatchman tried to intervene, Cobb stabbed him for his efforts.
Assume Mac used steroids. Does that make him worse than committed alcoholics Jimmie Foxx, Hack Wilson and Grover Cleveland Alexander? Worse than suspended gambler Leo Durocher? Worse than the skirt-chasing, beer-swilling, gorging to the point of being unable to play Babe Ruth? Worse than any number of amphetamine-popping players from the 60's and 70's who also never tested positive because they weren't tested either?
Rafael Palmeiro changed the terms of his debate when he tested positive. If Bonds tested positive for amphetamines, that changes his position. But Mark McGwire retired before testing came in. And one of our leading principles as Americans has always been that a person cannot be prosecuted with laws that were enacted after the fact.
Mark McGwire may well have used steroids. In fact, he probably did. But even if he did, there are far, far worse characters already enshrined in Cooperstown, and I haven't heard the Defenders of Purity in the Baseball Writers' Association of America calling for a purge of all the bad actors in Baseball's history.
Big Mac belongs in Cooperstown. And all the writers, executives and fans who now say otherwise are nothing but hypocrites.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Cal and Tony: All That's Good About Baseball
Cal Ripken, Jr. and Tony Gwynn were elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame on Tuesday. Their vote percentages were among the highest ever, Cal's 98.53% coming in 3rd behind Tom Seaver and the absurd vote for the fair-to-middling Nolan Ryan, while Tony placed 7th with 97.6%, following the above and Ty Cobb, George Brett and Hank Aaron. Nice company to be in.
Both players gave their entire careers to a single team. Cal was a product of The Oriole Way in the days when that meant something great. His dad was, of course, a baseball and Oriole lifer, and Cal followed closely in his footsteps. He changed the conception of shortstops. In the early days of my fandom, Ed Brinkman, Mark Belanger and Bud Harrelson were the exemplars. Great gloves all, they couldn't hit a lick. Cal changed that. He made shortstop an offensive position, too. But he never forgot his glove, either. The Streak is all the more remarkable because it was achieved by such a big shortstop. Cal saved the game. When owners and players and Idiot for Life Selig had done all they could to kill the game in 1994, Cal brought it back. On the night he broke Lou Gehrig's record, Cal's lap around Camden Yards might as well have been a lap around America, as he reminded the whole country what was good and right about baseball.
Tony Gwynn is the Ernie Banks of the San Diego Padres. Best player ever, best person ever, best face of a franchise ever. My personal experience of Tony Gwynn was at AutoZone Park (as I recall it, the first game ever played there, an exhibition between the Cardinals and the Padres). While the evil, arrogant, pathetic Rickey Henderson stood maybe two feet from the retaining wall separating the fans from the field and the players, ignoring every plea from every kid that dreamed of being the next stolen base king, a genuine baseball god, Tony Gwynn, stood at that wall, smiling, speaking and signing autographs for everyone even into the player introductions. When they called his name and he had to go line up, he apologized for having to go. That's Tony Gwynn.
These guys did it right. When Ryne Sandberg gave his powerful induction speech at Cooperstown, he talked about the value of honoring the game and doing things the right way. Ryno, and baseball fans everywhere, were proud on Tuesday when two good men, two great baseball players, two guys who always did it right, were elected for induction. It will be a great day in July when Cal and Tony join their fellow immortals in the only Hall of Fame that matters.
Both players gave their entire careers to a single team. Cal was a product of The Oriole Way in the days when that meant something great. His dad was, of course, a baseball and Oriole lifer, and Cal followed closely in his footsteps. He changed the conception of shortstops. In the early days of my fandom, Ed Brinkman, Mark Belanger and Bud Harrelson were the exemplars. Great gloves all, they couldn't hit a lick. Cal changed that. He made shortstop an offensive position, too. But he never forgot his glove, either. The Streak is all the more remarkable because it was achieved by such a big shortstop. Cal saved the game. When owners and players and Idiot for Life Selig had done all they could to kill the game in 1994, Cal brought it back. On the night he broke Lou Gehrig's record, Cal's lap around Camden Yards might as well have been a lap around America, as he reminded the whole country what was good and right about baseball.
Tony Gwynn is the Ernie Banks of the San Diego Padres. Best player ever, best person ever, best face of a franchise ever. My personal experience of Tony Gwynn was at AutoZone Park (as I recall it, the first game ever played there, an exhibition between the Cardinals and the Padres). While the evil, arrogant, pathetic Rickey Henderson stood maybe two feet from the retaining wall separating the fans from the field and the players, ignoring every plea from every kid that dreamed of being the next stolen base king, a genuine baseball god, Tony Gwynn, stood at that wall, smiling, speaking and signing autographs for everyone even into the player introductions. When they called his name and he had to go line up, he apologized for having to go. That's Tony Gwynn.
These guys did it right. When Ryne Sandberg gave his powerful induction speech at Cooperstown, he talked about the value of honoring the game and doing things the right way. Ryno, and baseball fans everywhere, were proud on Tuesday when two good men, two great baseball players, two guys who always did it right, were elected for induction. It will be a great day in July when Cal and Tony join their fellow immortals in the only Hall of Fame that matters.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
He Gets It! He Doesn't Get It!
To conclude the previous post...Sunday's cantata went very well. The choir provided an exceptional worship experience for our largest attendance since Easter. Well done, good and faithful servants!
The President of the United States made a ground-breaking revelation today: the US is not winning in Iraq! In other scoops provided by George II, the sun will rise in the east tomorrow, Santa visits on Christmas Eve and athletes often behave badly. He then moved on to reassure us that his tangential connection to reality isn't completely repaired. He claimed we're not losing. I've never seen anyone toss a coin and have it land on edge; apparently Dubya has.
He wants to fix the problem by dramatically increasing the size of Army and Marine Corps troop levels in Iraq.
HEY GENIUS, it's a bad war, we should never have been there in the first place, and there is no reason to kill and maim more of ours and theirs trying to save face at this late date.
This will be the first test of the newly-elected Democratic majorities in the House and Senate. Will we continue to see a lapdog Congress that cowers before the Fool down from the Hill, or will we see some intelligent, reasonable governance for the first time since January 21, 2001?
Note to Reid and Pelosi: Iraq wasn't behind 9-11. They didn't have weapons of mass destruction. They hadn't bought yellow cake uranium from Nigerians or anybody else. Stop Bush's War, and stop it now! Hitler didn't win his war of aggression, Tojo didn't win his, Mussolini didn't win his, neither we nor the French won in Viet Nam, Saddam didn't win in 1991, and we won't win this war of aggression, either.
It's almost enough to make one believe in divine intervention and justice.
The President of the United States made a ground-breaking revelation today: the US is not winning in Iraq! In other scoops provided by George II, the sun will rise in the east tomorrow, Santa visits on Christmas Eve and athletes often behave badly. He then moved on to reassure us that his tangential connection to reality isn't completely repaired. He claimed we're not losing. I've never seen anyone toss a coin and have it land on edge; apparently Dubya has.
He wants to fix the problem by dramatically increasing the size of Army and Marine Corps troop levels in Iraq.
HEY GENIUS, it's a bad war, we should never have been there in the first place, and there is no reason to kill and maim more of ours and theirs trying to save face at this late date.
This will be the first test of the newly-elected Democratic majorities in the House and Senate. Will we continue to see a lapdog Congress that cowers before the Fool down from the Hill, or will we see some intelligent, reasonable governance for the first time since January 21, 2001?
Note to Reid and Pelosi: Iraq wasn't behind 9-11. They didn't have weapons of mass destruction. They hadn't bought yellow cake uranium from Nigerians or anybody else. Stop Bush's War, and stop it now! Hitler didn't win his war of aggression, Tojo didn't win his, Mussolini didn't win his, neither we nor the French won in Viet Nam, Saddam didn't win in 1991, and we won't win this war of aggression, either.
It's almost enough to make one believe in divine intervention and justice.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
7 Hours, 50 minutes and Counting
It's cantata day. I dread cantata day. Maybe that's why I'm still awake at 12:41 am in middle America. I just don't want to mess the thing up. The rest of the choir has worked too hard for me to goof this deal up. I'm a preacher. Darned good one, too, if I do run the risk of boasting. (I do relish the gift; I grew up listening to the best, and God has graciously/maliciously filled in the rest-me up in front of people on a daily basis is still hysterical, 22 years in) I'm a tolerable supporting bass. The only problem is that in our operation I'm the only bass.
Or maybe it's bigger.
Maybe I'm playing insomniac theater due to what we're doing to the world, still. Sure, Rummy's gone, and that's not a bad step. But the longer I think about it, Gates had a hard time in a previous confirmation due to his part in Iran-Contra. So this guy is going to stand up to this president? Not holding the breath on that one. Just in the last few minutes, we have, in all likelihood guaranteed that some child in Iraq will always hold us responsible for the death of Mom/Dad/Grandparent in the latest car bombing or kidnapping/murder or whatever. And some American child may have just lost a Dad or Mom to a mortar round or IED, but at least they won't have to know it until tomorrow. They can have this last good night's sleep.
Just like George. George tells People magazine (he has time to give interviews to People magazine?) that he sleeps very well.
I'm divorced enough from reality that I can laugh weeknights when Letterman shows "Great Moments in Presidential Speeches," leading off with the eloquence of FDR and JFK, then following with the latest malapropism, Porky Pig sign-off or completely incoherent rambling of the dear leader. But this newest item just isn't funny.
How does he ever sleep? We're closing in on 3,000 of ours dead, and, according to the Johns-Hopkins study, three quarters of a million of theirs dead. That doesn't count the wounded, who have been very carefully and skillfully hidden by the administration. Out of sight, out of mind, don't you know? A crowd greater than the population of Memphis wiped out in this stupid, unjust, badly fought, lie driven war and the subsequent peace that has been anything but. And they're all God's!
I wish that I could talk to him. I wish that I could haunt his dreams with the faces of all the dead, all the wounded, all the orphaned. I wish that I could tell this jackass that nobody cares how he looks compared to his dad. And we didn't think that much of his dad, anyway. I wish that someone, anyone, could get it through his head that lying to the nation is bad, lying to the world is worse, and lying to yourself may be worst of all, and that he should stop all of it. I wish that he could have some of the sleepless nights of the parents who have children over there. Or those of the woman whose husband is at Gitmo, or somewhere, even thought he may have never done anything wrong to anyone. Or those of the little boys and girls who are on the street because one of those damned bombs wasn't as smart as it was cracked up to be, and it killed mom and dad-liberated them right out of their lives.
He sleeps very well? I have thought that those on my side who want to impeach him should just calm down, because they'd only be accused of trying to get even for Clinton. (Then again, as the lapel pin says, "No one died when Clinton lied") They should impeach this horrible, horrible man just for saying that he sleeps well while he's responsible, everyday, for the pointless and needless deaths of Americans and Iraqis in a war that should never have been fought in the first place.
I once had a lesson from Andre Braugher's magnificent Frank Pembleton on Homicide: Life on the Streets. Once, when they observed a suspect who'd been left in the interrogation room (The Box, for fans of the show) snoring like a chainsaw, Frank told Kyle Secor's Tim Bayliss, "The guilty ones go right to sleep. It's the innocent who stay awake all night." Amen, Frank. Amen.
Shame on you, sir! Shame on you! And God help us all.
7 hours, 18 minutes and counting. Pray for this non-singer!
Or maybe it's bigger.
Maybe I'm playing insomniac theater due to what we're doing to the world, still. Sure, Rummy's gone, and that's not a bad step. But the longer I think about it, Gates had a hard time in a previous confirmation due to his part in Iran-Contra. So this guy is going to stand up to this president? Not holding the breath on that one. Just in the last few minutes, we have, in all likelihood guaranteed that some child in Iraq will always hold us responsible for the death of Mom/Dad/Grandparent in the latest car bombing or kidnapping/murder or whatever. And some American child may have just lost a Dad or Mom to a mortar round or IED, but at least they won't have to know it until tomorrow. They can have this last good night's sleep.
Just like George. George tells People magazine (he has time to give interviews to People magazine?) that he sleeps very well.
I'm divorced enough from reality that I can laugh weeknights when Letterman shows "Great Moments in Presidential Speeches," leading off with the eloquence of FDR and JFK, then following with the latest malapropism, Porky Pig sign-off or completely incoherent rambling of the dear leader. But this newest item just isn't funny.
How does he ever sleep? We're closing in on 3,000 of ours dead, and, according to the Johns-Hopkins study, three quarters of a million of theirs dead. That doesn't count the wounded, who have been very carefully and skillfully hidden by the administration. Out of sight, out of mind, don't you know? A crowd greater than the population of Memphis wiped out in this stupid, unjust, badly fought, lie driven war and the subsequent peace that has been anything but. And they're all God's!
I wish that I could talk to him. I wish that I could haunt his dreams with the faces of all the dead, all the wounded, all the orphaned. I wish that I could tell this jackass that nobody cares how he looks compared to his dad. And we didn't think that much of his dad, anyway. I wish that someone, anyone, could get it through his head that lying to the nation is bad, lying to the world is worse, and lying to yourself may be worst of all, and that he should stop all of it. I wish that he could have some of the sleepless nights of the parents who have children over there. Or those of the woman whose husband is at Gitmo, or somewhere, even thought he may have never done anything wrong to anyone. Or those of the little boys and girls who are on the street because one of those damned bombs wasn't as smart as it was cracked up to be, and it killed mom and dad-liberated them right out of their lives.
He sleeps very well? I have thought that those on my side who want to impeach him should just calm down, because they'd only be accused of trying to get even for Clinton. (Then again, as the lapel pin says, "No one died when Clinton lied") They should impeach this horrible, horrible man just for saying that he sleeps well while he's responsible, everyday, for the pointless and needless deaths of Americans and Iraqis in a war that should never have been fought in the first place.
I once had a lesson from Andre Braugher's magnificent Frank Pembleton on Homicide: Life on the Streets. Once, when they observed a suspect who'd been left in the interrogation room (The Box, for fans of the show) snoring like a chainsaw, Frank told Kyle Secor's Tim Bayliss, "The guilty ones go right to sleep. It's the innocent who stay awake all night." Amen, Frank. Amen.
Shame on you, sir! Shame on you! And God help us all.
7 hours, 18 minutes and counting. Pray for this non-singer!
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Heroic Republicans
I will pause momentarily to allow my family and friends to wake up following their fainting from the title above..........Now then. The Iraq study group has released its report. Its conclusions were a foregone conclusion, if they were going to be honest. And with Lee Hamilton, a bulwark of integrity for 35 years in the House of Representatives, as the Democrats' co-chair, I believed they would be honest. The presence on the panel of Vernon Jordan, Leon Panetta, Chuck Robb and William Perry further raised my hopes. The Democrats performed as I expected.
This space is for an appreciation of the Republicans involved. Former Secretary James Baker has been a Bush family retainer for about 50 years. Whenever Bushes have found themselves in trouble, Baker has been there to quiet the waters. Not this time. Lawrence Eagleberger has been a member of several Republican administrations. He's as inside as inside gets. But this time he stepped out. Justice O'Connor was an honorable member of the United States Supreme Court throughout her tenure, and the nation is poorer, much much poorer, for her retirement. That leaves the final two members: former Senator Alan Simpson and former Attorney General Edwin Meese. I have had no respect for this pair whatsoever. Simpson is caustic and vicious. He has been one of the leading attack dogs for the transition of the Republican party from the honorable institution of Everett Dirkson, Dwight Eisenhower and Nelson Rockefeller to the despicable snake pit of Newt Gingrich, Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson. Ed Meese was an unmitigated disaster as Ronald Reagan's chief law enforcement officer. In days gone by, it was a close contest to count whether Meese had enforced more laws or broken more. But even Alan Simpson and Ed Meese put their country ahead of politics and power this time.
These Republicans have participated in this study, and agreed to the committee's report, in spite of the fact that the report is bluntly critical of a Republican president's performance. They have told the truth that staying this course in Iraq can only result in disaster, if we're not already there. They have called for change now, and withrawal within 15 months. They have made these calls in spite of the fact that this particular Republican president is openly vengeful. He punishes anyone and everyone who challenges him, who criticizes him, who points out his mistakes. In short, this group of Republicans have risked their reputations and legacies within their party to serve their country.
We should all be grateful to the whole membership of the Iraq study group. But we are all particularly indebted to the Republican members for their courage and honesty. Viewing their performance, and having listened to newly confirmed Secretary of Defense Robert Gates as he told the truth in his Senate hearing yesterday, perhaps there is some opportunity left for the Republican party to reclaim its honorable heritage. We would be a better nation if they did.
This space is for an appreciation of the Republicans involved. Former Secretary James Baker has been a Bush family retainer for about 50 years. Whenever Bushes have found themselves in trouble, Baker has been there to quiet the waters. Not this time. Lawrence Eagleberger has been a member of several Republican administrations. He's as inside as inside gets. But this time he stepped out. Justice O'Connor was an honorable member of the United States Supreme Court throughout her tenure, and the nation is poorer, much much poorer, for her retirement. That leaves the final two members: former Senator Alan Simpson and former Attorney General Edwin Meese. I have had no respect for this pair whatsoever. Simpson is caustic and vicious. He has been one of the leading attack dogs for the transition of the Republican party from the honorable institution of Everett Dirkson, Dwight Eisenhower and Nelson Rockefeller to the despicable snake pit of Newt Gingrich, Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson. Ed Meese was an unmitigated disaster as Ronald Reagan's chief law enforcement officer. In days gone by, it was a close contest to count whether Meese had enforced more laws or broken more. But even Alan Simpson and Ed Meese put their country ahead of politics and power this time.
These Republicans have participated in this study, and agreed to the committee's report, in spite of the fact that the report is bluntly critical of a Republican president's performance. They have told the truth that staying this course in Iraq can only result in disaster, if we're not already there. They have called for change now, and withrawal within 15 months. They have made these calls in spite of the fact that this particular Republican president is openly vengeful. He punishes anyone and everyone who challenges him, who criticizes him, who points out his mistakes. In short, this group of Republicans have risked their reputations and legacies within their party to serve their country.
We should all be grateful to the whole membership of the Iraq study group. But we are all particularly indebted to the Republican members for their courage and honesty. Viewing their performance, and having listened to newly confirmed Secretary of Defense Robert Gates as he told the truth in his Senate hearing yesterday, perhaps there is some opportunity left for the Republican party to reclaim its honorable heritage. We would be a better nation if they did.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Our Own Opinions, Not Our Own Facts
I believe that I heard it said on Countdown by Keith Olbermann, so I'll go with that credit. If I'm mistaken, I apologize to the wonderful person who did say it. It was, plain and simple, a response to one of those mindless statements that we live in America and everyone is entitled to their opinion. That is certainly true. But the brilliance was thus: everyone may be entitled to their own opinion, but no one is entitled to their own facts. Or words very close to that. It's a great statement. It acknowledges that every American is guaranteed the right to be as stupid as we want to be. But it also points out that if we choose to live in an alternate reality, we just aren't free to reinvent the facts any way that we want them to be. Sort of like the day that Frazier asked Cliff, "What color is the sky in your world?"
Relevance? Here goes. I wrote my monthly newsletter article last midweek, and it was distributed yesterday morning by the two generous ladies who volunteer and put the thing together for us. I began the piece by sharing that I am not among the "War on Christmas" crowd, and expressing my disdain for the work of those who know that they are lying when they use the notion (one more made up piece of crap that these evil actors use) to distract the portion of the populace who can be so easily manipulated to look away from the latest malfeasance, incompetence, or just plain evil perpetrated by George II and his cabal. I called by name the first person I ever heard propound the preposterous theory, Bill O'Reilly. If anything, I was far too mild in my description of what he and his compatriots are up to.
I was stunned during the shaking hands after the service portion of the day when I was approached by one of my favorite people in the congregation. A strong leader, and just really fine person. "When" I was asked, "do we get time for a rebuttal?" I am one of those people who gets so locked into what I've got in front of me at any given moment that I can't think about anything else, and that is never more the case than right before or right after a worship service. I had no idea what the reference was, as I was still in preaching mode. I asked; my question was answered: "To defend Bill O'Reilly!" I thought it was a joke at first. I was wrong.
I knew that my friend is conservative. I'm ok with that. I recognize very well that well-intentioned people can see the world in differing ways, and I respect those differences. But there are lines.
Bill O'Reilly crossed a line a long time ago. The man lies about his upbringing. He lies about his military service. He lies about his professional accomplishments. And he bullies. I have sat through the hilariously name No Spin Zone on enough occasions to have a working knowledge of his act. He screams at people he disagrees with to "Shut Up!" He threatens. The inevitable prank caller is told that they can expect a visit from Fox Security because "We have your telephone number." Can't imagine the horror of Rupert's jack-booted thugs showing up at the door to...what? Rip out the phone line? Might be time to recall G. Gordon Liddy's renowned instructions for answering the door? O'Reilly attacked the 9-11 widows, for crying out loud. Yeah, if there is any hotbed of insurrectionist thought and action, it's the 9-11 widows! Not unlike blaming the Jewish people for the Holocaust, or African-Americans for slavery.
How dare you women-folk have opinions on the War On Terror, and the Assault On The Other Country That Had Nothing To Do With 9-11 And A Dictator No Worse Than 30 Other Countries. Where do you get off asking questions and taking positions? Your husbands were murdered? Oh, surely you can do better than that!
Friends, Bill O'Reilly just isn't the place to make your stand.
My church's policy is that unless I violate the teachings of the church (and, so far, we're still against lying and bullying and threatening people-radical, ain't we?) what I say in my pulpit is between God and me. No one, not even my appointing bishop, can tell me what to preach or not preach. And the church's publications are part of my pulpit. There will be no rebuttal to defend Mr. O'Reilly's honor, and not just because he doesn't have any. My friend won't be happy with me about that. OK. Most of us clergy types don't have the anatomy these days to take the risks of being prophetic. We tend to like our middle-class (or what passes for it) lives too much. But this one's a no-brainer, to borrow Mr. Cheney's term.
So here's the big risk-taking prophetic proclamation of the day: Bill O'Reilly behaves badly, and should stop it! Ooh, I feel just like Amos or Hosea!
Relevance? Here goes. I wrote my monthly newsletter article last midweek, and it was distributed yesterday morning by the two generous ladies who volunteer and put the thing together for us. I began the piece by sharing that I am not among the "War on Christmas" crowd, and expressing my disdain for the work of those who know that they are lying when they use the notion (one more made up piece of crap that these evil actors use) to distract the portion of the populace who can be so easily manipulated to look away from the latest malfeasance, incompetence, or just plain evil perpetrated by George II and his cabal. I called by name the first person I ever heard propound the preposterous theory, Bill O'Reilly. If anything, I was far too mild in my description of what he and his compatriots are up to.
I was stunned during the shaking hands after the service portion of the day when I was approached by one of my favorite people in the congregation. A strong leader, and just really fine person. "When" I was asked, "do we get time for a rebuttal?" I am one of those people who gets so locked into what I've got in front of me at any given moment that I can't think about anything else, and that is never more the case than right before or right after a worship service. I had no idea what the reference was, as I was still in preaching mode. I asked; my question was answered: "To defend Bill O'Reilly!" I thought it was a joke at first. I was wrong.
I knew that my friend is conservative. I'm ok with that. I recognize very well that well-intentioned people can see the world in differing ways, and I respect those differences. But there are lines.
Bill O'Reilly crossed a line a long time ago. The man lies about his upbringing. He lies about his military service. He lies about his professional accomplishments. And he bullies. I have sat through the hilariously name No Spin Zone on enough occasions to have a working knowledge of his act. He screams at people he disagrees with to "Shut Up!" He threatens. The inevitable prank caller is told that they can expect a visit from Fox Security because "We have your telephone number." Can't imagine the horror of Rupert's jack-booted thugs showing up at the door to...what? Rip out the phone line? Might be time to recall G. Gordon Liddy's renowned instructions for answering the door? O'Reilly attacked the 9-11 widows, for crying out loud. Yeah, if there is any hotbed of insurrectionist thought and action, it's the 9-11 widows! Not unlike blaming the Jewish people for the Holocaust, or African-Americans for slavery.
How dare you women-folk have opinions on the War On Terror, and the Assault On The Other Country That Had Nothing To Do With 9-11 And A Dictator No Worse Than 30 Other Countries. Where do you get off asking questions and taking positions? Your husbands were murdered? Oh, surely you can do better than that!
Friends, Bill O'Reilly just isn't the place to make your stand.
My church's policy is that unless I violate the teachings of the church (and, so far, we're still against lying and bullying and threatening people-radical, ain't we?) what I say in my pulpit is between God and me. No one, not even my appointing bishop, can tell me what to preach or not preach. And the church's publications are part of my pulpit. There will be no rebuttal to defend Mr. O'Reilly's honor, and not just because he doesn't have any. My friend won't be happy with me about that. OK. Most of us clergy types don't have the anatomy these days to take the risks of being prophetic. We tend to like our middle-class (or what passes for it) lives too much. But this one's a no-brainer, to borrow Mr. Cheney's term.
So here's the big risk-taking prophetic proclamation of the day: Bill O'Reilly behaves badly, and should stop it! Ooh, I feel just like Amos or Hosea!
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Signings, or, Why Baseball Teams Are Who They Are
St. Louis Cardinals, 2006 World Series Champions, 10 World Series Titles, 17 National League Pennants, 22 appearances in baseball's postseason
Chicago Cubs, Loveable Losers, They of the Friendly Confines, 2 World Series Titles, 10 National League Pennants, 14 appearances in baseball's postseason, no World Series Title since 1908, no National League Pennant since 1945.
The Cardinals have added these players since winning the World Series: Gary Bennett, 1 year; Jim Edmonds, 2 years, $19 million; Randy Keisler; Adam Kennedy, 3 years, $10 million; Scott Spiezio, 2 year deal, $4.5 million; Kip Wells, 1 year, $4 million; Eli Marrero, Minor League contract.
The Cubs have added these players since the Cardinals won the World Series: Henry Blanco, 2 year deal with team option; Mark DeRosa, 3 year deal, $13 million; Wade Miller, 1 year, $1.5 million; Aramis Ramirez, 5 year deal with mutual option, $73 million; Alfonso Soriano, 8 year contract, $136 million; Kerry Wood, 1 year deal, $1.75 million.
Cards: Bennett is a journeyman who responded well to St. Louis last year. Edmonds is in decline, but agreed to rework a deal that makes him far more attractive than under the earlier deal. Adam Kennedy is an old Cards hand, having gone to the Angels in the Edmonds deal. He is not sensational, but he is steady, and will be reunited with his double play partner from the 2002 World Champions, David Eckstein. Speizio proved to be a very valuable bench player, filling in just about everywhere last season, and showing some good pop at the plate. Kip Wells is a season past surgery, and seems a very reasonable bet to return to what he was in 2002-2003 (38 RSAA for a pitiable Pirates team). Eli Marrero is returning to the Cards as a much more versatile player than the backup catcher he was when he left St. Louis previously. On the whole, reasonable money for reliable players and a couple of reasonable risks. Nice job, so far.
Cubs: Soriano is already past 30, but was given the longest, largest contract in club history. His speed makes him special; do his legs hold up to age 40? If so, he'll be the first. Ramirez doesn't play hard every day. He doesn't play hard a lot of days. He sulked under Dusty Baker; how will he respond to Lou Piniella? But, in Hendry Land, that gets you the second richest deal in team history. Mark DeRosa had a career year at the optimal moment. He has never done anything to suggest that last year's performance was anything but a fluke, and he will prove that this season. DeRo is not as good as Adam Kennedy, but the Cubs are paying him a million dollars a year more than the Cards are paying Kennedy. Wade Miller isn't a bad bet for a million and a half; he just hasn't pitched in forever. Which brings us to Kerry Wood. Stop it! Just stop it now!
To date, the 2006 Hot Stove season clearly demonstrates why the Cardinals are the Cardinals, and the Cubs are the Cubs. But, hey, they still have Wrigley Field, and this year, Mt. Piniella, just waiting to explode.
Chicago Cubs, Loveable Losers, They of the Friendly Confines, 2 World Series Titles, 10 National League Pennants, 14 appearances in baseball's postseason, no World Series Title since 1908, no National League Pennant since 1945.
The Cardinals have added these players since winning the World Series: Gary Bennett, 1 year; Jim Edmonds, 2 years, $19 million; Randy Keisler; Adam Kennedy, 3 years, $10 million; Scott Spiezio, 2 year deal, $4.5 million; Kip Wells, 1 year, $4 million; Eli Marrero, Minor League contract.
The Cubs have added these players since the Cardinals won the World Series: Henry Blanco, 2 year deal with team option; Mark DeRosa, 3 year deal, $13 million; Wade Miller, 1 year, $1.5 million; Aramis Ramirez, 5 year deal with mutual option, $73 million; Alfonso Soriano, 8 year contract, $136 million; Kerry Wood, 1 year deal, $1.75 million.
Cards: Bennett is a journeyman who responded well to St. Louis last year. Edmonds is in decline, but agreed to rework a deal that makes him far more attractive than under the earlier deal. Adam Kennedy is an old Cards hand, having gone to the Angels in the Edmonds deal. He is not sensational, but he is steady, and will be reunited with his double play partner from the 2002 World Champions, David Eckstein. Speizio proved to be a very valuable bench player, filling in just about everywhere last season, and showing some good pop at the plate. Kip Wells is a season past surgery, and seems a very reasonable bet to return to what he was in 2002-2003 (38 RSAA for a pitiable Pirates team). Eli Marrero is returning to the Cards as a much more versatile player than the backup catcher he was when he left St. Louis previously. On the whole, reasonable money for reliable players and a couple of reasonable risks. Nice job, so far.
Cubs: Soriano is already past 30, but was given the longest, largest contract in club history. His speed makes him special; do his legs hold up to age 40? If so, he'll be the first. Ramirez doesn't play hard every day. He doesn't play hard a lot of days. He sulked under Dusty Baker; how will he respond to Lou Piniella? But, in Hendry Land, that gets you the second richest deal in team history. Mark DeRosa had a career year at the optimal moment. He has never done anything to suggest that last year's performance was anything but a fluke, and he will prove that this season. DeRo is not as good as Adam Kennedy, but the Cubs are paying him a million dollars a year more than the Cards are paying Kennedy. Wade Miller isn't a bad bet for a million and a half; he just hasn't pitched in forever. Which brings us to Kerry Wood. Stop it! Just stop it now!
To date, the 2006 Hot Stove season clearly demonstrates why the Cardinals are the Cardinals, and the Cubs are the Cubs. But, hey, they still have Wrigley Field, and this year, Mt. Piniella, just waiting to explode.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Hell Froze Over
Rupert Murdoch's News Corp. has shown evidence of a conscience! No, regretably, they haven't spayed or neutered Bill O'Reilly or Sean Hannity. I didn't say that they had joined the human race. They've just sprouted a little leaf of a small amount of decency. O.J. Simpson has been denied his forum for...what? His memoir of that night? The only means open to him to make some real money? I don't even know what to call it.
Mr. Simpson was to give an interview, in anticipation of the publication of a book, that would tell how he murdered his ex-wife and a neighborhood waiter. If he had done it. I've already heard this story. It was called the trial of the century. Which proved only two things: if your prosecutors went to the Three Stooges' Law School, and if you have enough money, then in the good old U.S. of A. you can get away with absolutely anything.
Perhaps that pricipal has changed just a bit. Someone at Fox apparently decided that all of Rupert's billions couldn't buy them an excuse for putting an unconvicted, but nonetheless guilty, murderer on television to, again, torture the families of his victims.
Good taste from the Brit Hume and Greta Van Susteren crowd? Witness, friends, my proof for the existence of God!
Mr. Simpson was to give an interview, in anticipation of the publication of a book, that would tell how he murdered his ex-wife and a neighborhood waiter. If he had done it. I've already heard this story. It was called the trial of the century. Which proved only two things: if your prosecutors went to the Three Stooges' Law School, and if you have enough money, then in the good old U.S. of A. you can get away with absolutely anything.
Perhaps that pricipal has changed just a bit. Someone at Fox apparently decided that all of Rupert's billions couldn't buy them an excuse for putting an unconvicted, but nonetheless guilty, murderer on television to, again, torture the families of his victims.
Good taste from the Brit Hume and Greta Van Susteren crowd? Witness, friends, my proof for the existence of God!
Still Trying to Wind Down on Sunday Night/Monday Morning
Why is it that Ted Koppel can examine Iran and its place in the world in reasonable ways, but no one in our government seems to be able to do so? (Do yourselves a favor-watch Koppel on Discovery; this program is Iran: The Most Dangerous Nation)
The only thing better than baptizing one person in morning worship is baptizing two, which we did this morning. And the best part is, in our church that's a fairly frequent occurence!
So it seems that the Cubs are about to win the Soriano sweepstakes. After the last three years (Red Sox in '04, White Sox in '05 and Cardinals in '06) about the last remaining mountain-top experience for a baseball fan is seeing the Cubs win the World Series. Alfonso is a good step in that direction. But the Cubs are still the Cubs, and there are reasons why they are approaching a full century since winning a World Series. Three years at $13 million for Mark DeRosa? Mark's a good guy-he came up with the Braves-but one good year (and that in the Ballpark at Arlington!) makes anybody a $4.3 million a year player? And signing Kerry Wood again, at any price, even for one year? Memo to the Tribune Company: the fantasy is over; Wood and Prior aren't going to win you anything but Workman's Compensation claims. I can see a Derrek Lee-Aramis Ramirez-Soriano order going nuts with 81 games in Wrigley, but somebody's still got to get the other side out. After Zambrano, who ya got?
While my interest in football is minimal-a severe handicap for a southern guy-I do think that there is a baseball parallel: just as baseball is better when the Yankees are good, so do I think that the NFL is more interesting when the Chicago Bears are good. And this year, they are very good. The Colts' loss today leaves them even with the Bears for the best record in the league. The Colts are all offense, and the worst run defense in the NFL. The Bears, however, are passable on offense and tremendous on defense. That formula has won an awful lot of the Super Bowls that I have seen.
If I know little of pro football, I know less of college. Heck, my school didn't even have football with I was there. That said, if the NCAA wants a great game for their pretend championship, I can't see them doing better than a repeat of the Ohio State-Michigan game. And by the way, if Ohio State is number 1, shouldn't they beat the number 2 team by just a little bit when the game is played at #1's home field? I don't get the polls; I prefer a game where you have earn the championship on the field every year. You know, "There's no voting in Baseball!" But if you play number 1 tight at their place, your ranking shouldn't take a beating. I am no Michigan fan. I thought Woody Hayes and Bo Schembechler were both awful people with all their tough guy posturing and football-as-war talk. What nonsense! But Michigan deserves a rematch, especially if the football muckety-mucks want a competitive game for their joke of a title.
Is there anything better than satellite radio? I have both brands, courtesy of the family's Christmas generosity over the last few years. XM has the baseball package. Sirius has basketball, and, yes, Howard. XM could make their service indispensible if only they understood baseball. They do pick up every game. But only the home broadcast. They clearly don't understand or care that in the free agent era, the baseball fan's connection to their team is through the announcers. I feel like Jack Buck was another beloved uncle; Skip Caray and Pete Van Wieren, life-long friends; Joe Castiglione and Jerry Trupiano, daily companions. Cardinal baseball is as much about Mike Shannon's peculiarities as it is about who's batting or on the mound. Having to listen to the loathsome Jerry Coleman when the Cards are out west, or the wretched John Sterling when the Sox visit The Stadium should be chargeable offenses under the Constitution's cruel and inhuman punishment clause. Even more than Papi and Manny, Albert and Chris, Chipper and Smoltz, the guys behind the microphones make the game, every day, for six months a year. Give us our guys! Play both broadcasts of each game! Or, actually, all three with the Spanish announcers.
Which leads, finally, to one more question: just what the hell is wrong with posting signs in English and Spanish? Are we so jingoistic that we won't lift a finger to help those new to our country make their way? The obvious stupidity of this attitude is that we ALL came from somewhere else. By the last anthropological studies I saw, even the Native Americans are actually Native Asians. I am grateful that when the first Pierces or Pearses or whatever it was originally were busy having their names misunderstood and misspelled like everybody else upon entering this country, there was opportunity for them to figure out life in this new place. How big an ass must one be to deny that opportunity to others whose only sin is getting here a little later? As shared before, recipients of grace must be very, very careful when considering whether to extend grace to others!
The only thing better than baptizing one person in morning worship is baptizing two, which we did this morning. And the best part is, in our church that's a fairly frequent occurence!
So it seems that the Cubs are about to win the Soriano sweepstakes. After the last three years (Red Sox in '04, White Sox in '05 and Cardinals in '06) about the last remaining mountain-top experience for a baseball fan is seeing the Cubs win the World Series. Alfonso is a good step in that direction. But the Cubs are still the Cubs, and there are reasons why they are approaching a full century since winning a World Series. Three years at $13 million for Mark DeRosa? Mark's a good guy-he came up with the Braves-but one good year (and that in the Ballpark at Arlington!) makes anybody a $4.3 million a year player? And signing Kerry Wood again, at any price, even for one year? Memo to the Tribune Company: the fantasy is over; Wood and Prior aren't going to win you anything but Workman's Compensation claims. I can see a Derrek Lee-Aramis Ramirez-Soriano order going nuts with 81 games in Wrigley, but somebody's still got to get the other side out. After Zambrano, who ya got?
While my interest in football is minimal-a severe handicap for a southern guy-I do think that there is a baseball parallel: just as baseball is better when the Yankees are good, so do I think that the NFL is more interesting when the Chicago Bears are good. And this year, they are very good. The Colts' loss today leaves them even with the Bears for the best record in the league. The Colts are all offense, and the worst run defense in the NFL. The Bears, however, are passable on offense and tremendous on defense. That formula has won an awful lot of the Super Bowls that I have seen.
If I know little of pro football, I know less of college. Heck, my school didn't even have football with I was there. That said, if the NCAA wants a great game for their pretend championship, I can't see them doing better than a repeat of the Ohio State-Michigan game. And by the way, if Ohio State is number 1, shouldn't they beat the number 2 team by just a little bit when the game is played at #1's home field? I don't get the polls; I prefer a game where you have earn the championship on the field every year. You know, "There's no voting in Baseball!" But if you play number 1 tight at their place, your ranking shouldn't take a beating. I am no Michigan fan. I thought Woody Hayes and Bo Schembechler were both awful people with all their tough guy posturing and football-as-war talk. What nonsense! But Michigan deserves a rematch, especially if the football muckety-mucks want a competitive game for their joke of a title.
Is there anything better than satellite radio? I have both brands, courtesy of the family's Christmas generosity over the last few years. XM has the baseball package. Sirius has basketball, and, yes, Howard. XM could make their service indispensible if only they understood baseball. They do pick up every game. But only the home broadcast. They clearly don't understand or care that in the free agent era, the baseball fan's connection to their team is through the announcers. I feel like Jack Buck was another beloved uncle; Skip Caray and Pete Van Wieren, life-long friends; Joe Castiglione and Jerry Trupiano, daily companions. Cardinal baseball is as much about Mike Shannon's peculiarities as it is about who's batting or on the mound. Having to listen to the loathsome Jerry Coleman when the Cards are out west, or the wretched John Sterling when the Sox visit The Stadium should be chargeable offenses under the Constitution's cruel and inhuman punishment clause. Even more than Papi and Manny, Albert and Chris, Chipper and Smoltz, the guys behind the microphones make the game, every day, for six months a year. Give us our guys! Play both broadcasts of each game! Or, actually, all three with the Spanish announcers.
Which leads, finally, to one more question: just what the hell is wrong with posting signs in English and Spanish? Are we so jingoistic that we won't lift a finger to help those new to our country make their way? The obvious stupidity of this attitude is that we ALL came from somewhere else. By the last anthropological studies I saw, even the Native Americans are actually Native Asians. I am grateful that when the first Pierces or Pearses or whatever it was originally were busy having their names misunderstood and misspelled like everybody else upon entering this country, there was opportunity for them to figure out life in this new place. How big an ass must one be to deny that opportunity to others whose only sin is getting here a little later? As shared before, recipients of grace must be very, very careful when considering whether to extend grace to others!
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Managers of the Year
The Baseball Writers of America today named Jim Leyland and Joe Girardi the American and National League Managers of the Year. Well done! They are both deserving. Leyland returned just as the pathetic wreckage of one of the great franchises in the history of the game was set up to reclaim their position. The Detroit Tigers had spent way too many years as a laughingstock. Now, it's a "they who laugh last" situation. Their post-postseason addition of Gary Sheffield means that they should now have the opportunity to finish the job that ended one step short of completion last year. And getting Shef without having to give up any of their Major League pitching just underlines why Dave Dombrowski should be American League Executive of the Year. And Detroiters should feel tremendously encouraged that Shef's coming in confirms that Mike Ilitch has no intention of playing Wayne Huizenga in a 2007 version of the 1998 Marlins, with Dombrowski and Leyland having to relive that nightmare.
Joe Girardi won the National League vote. And he's out of a job. What's wrong with this picture? Jeffrey Loria. Loria spent a summer afternoon at the park playing Mark Cuban with the umpires. Girardi, to his eternal credit, told Loria to shut up. He was making life harder for Joe G's players. And from there, the relationship between manager and owner soured. And, predictably, the GM, Larry Beinfest, adopted a CYA position alongside the owner. So the brilliant-on the order of those cartoon idiots in the Guinness ads-billionaire Loria, who presided over the destruction of the Montreal Expos and was rewarded with the Marlins franchise, exercised his deep pockets prerogative and axed his manager.
This action was perfectly understandable. After all, Girardi had been handed a great team. The Marlins would have a record six players who received votes in the 2006 Rookie of the Year balloting. But back in the spring, they were just a bunch of children. And they played like it. The Marlins started 11-31. Twenty games under .500 in only 42 games played. Horrible! And they ended the season winning only 5 of their final 18 games. Wretched!
The rest of the story, however, is that in between the bad beginning and ending the Marlins became the only team in Major League history to reach .500 after having been 20 games under. Their season record: 78-84. Take out the start, and they went 67-53. Take out the bad finish, and it's 62-40. And before anybody starts telling me that if you take out the three losing streaks that the Cardinals had then their record improves, too, please remember a couple of things. Girardi had 22 rookies on his roster at one time or another last season. He had to teach them to play. And the finish came after Loria had made it clear that Joe wouldn't be back for 2007. Tell the kids that the guy who taught them to be Major Leaguers isn't going to be with them for their sophomore campaigns, and expect them to play as well as before? I just don't see that as a legitimate possibility.
Girardi will be fine. He'll spend this season back in the YES broadcast booth. And when the right job comes open, he'll continue his managerial career. And if he's fortunate enough to get his next job with a good owner, the rest of MLB better watch out!
The Marlins? Well, they hired Fredi Gonzalez to manage next year, and off of Fredi's tenure as the Braves' third base coach, I can't wish him ill. But he's working for Jeffrey Loria. I don't think Fredi's problems will come from my bad wishes on his organization.
Joe Girardi won the National League vote. And he's out of a job. What's wrong with this picture? Jeffrey Loria. Loria spent a summer afternoon at the park playing Mark Cuban with the umpires. Girardi, to his eternal credit, told Loria to shut up. He was making life harder for Joe G's players. And from there, the relationship between manager and owner soured. And, predictably, the GM, Larry Beinfest, adopted a CYA position alongside the owner. So the brilliant-on the order of those cartoon idiots in the Guinness ads-billionaire Loria, who presided over the destruction of the Montreal Expos and was rewarded with the Marlins franchise, exercised his deep pockets prerogative and axed his manager.
This action was perfectly understandable. After all, Girardi had been handed a great team. The Marlins would have a record six players who received votes in the 2006 Rookie of the Year balloting. But back in the spring, they were just a bunch of children. And they played like it. The Marlins started 11-31. Twenty games under .500 in only 42 games played. Horrible! And they ended the season winning only 5 of their final 18 games. Wretched!
The rest of the story, however, is that in between the bad beginning and ending the Marlins became the only team in Major League history to reach .500 after having been 20 games under. Their season record: 78-84. Take out the start, and they went 67-53. Take out the bad finish, and it's 62-40. And before anybody starts telling me that if you take out the three losing streaks that the Cardinals had then their record improves, too, please remember a couple of things. Girardi had 22 rookies on his roster at one time or another last season. He had to teach them to play. And the finish came after Loria had made it clear that Joe wouldn't be back for 2007. Tell the kids that the guy who taught them to be Major Leaguers isn't going to be with them for their sophomore campaigns, and expect them to play as well as before? I just don't see that as a legitimate possibility.
Girardi will be fine. He'll spend this season back in the YES broadcast booth. And when the right job comes open, he'll continue his managerial career. And if he's fortunate enough to get his next job with a good owner, the rest of MLB better watch out!
The Marlins? Well, they hired Fredi Gonzalez to manage next year, and off of Fredi's tenure as the Braves' third base coach, I can't wish him ill. But he's working for Jeffrey Loria. I don't think Fredi's problems will come from my bad wishes on his organization.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
You're Invited
The mail brought an interesting moment this afternoon, which is more than can be said most days. One of my previous stops is marking an anniversary that they apparently take to be significant, and must be asking everyone who was ever associated with them to go back for the occasion. In my final spring with them, they concluded that my presence was no longer required. I was hurt at the time, in spite of the fact that I already wanted to leave. There's something of that spurned lover stuff to the way we do things in our church. It was perfectly alright for me to want out, but when they said it first, I was wounded.
The particular issue on their part was the pushing of an individual who had been seated on the pertinent committee in spite of the fact that he never showed up at church unless he just couldn't find anything else to do. He pushed because he seemed to feel that I should have moved in with his terminally ill mother to be there every moment, and I hadn't done so. One of the joys of our existence is that our working lives are routinely in the hands of people who have no personnel experience whatsoever. They haven't dealt with hiring and firing, setting salaries, knowing what kinds of performance are appropriate or inappropriate and so on. A long-retired colleague says that the church is the last place left where average people can shake their fists, raise their voices, and get results. Well, long story short, my pal got results.
I hadn't thought about him or the congregation in question for several years prior to the arrival of the invitation. I got past the injury and resultant anger (hey, I am a guy!) a long time ago. But I have no interest in going back. When we clergy folk leave a place, we are supposed to be gone. I believe in that. We are to respect our successor(s) and leave them to attend to those now appointed to their care. Most of my stops have left me with fond memories. Two, not so much. But I have never gone back to any of them but one, and that, once. Everything was different. They had moved on, and so had I. It wasn't a comfortable day.
People often try to empathize with our weekend work schedules. And, sure, I'd like to stay out on Beale Street all Saturday night every now and then. But sometimes that Sunday schedule sure comes in handy. And this is one of those times.
Sorry, but I just can't get away on a Sunday morning. Thank goodness!
The particular issue on their part was the pushing of an individual who had been seated on the pertinent committee in spite of the fact that he never showed up at church unless he just couldn't find anything else to do. He pushed because he seemed to feel that I should have moved in with his terminally ill mother to be there every moment, and I hadn't done so. One of the joys of our existence is that our working lives are routinely in the hands of people who have no personnel experience whatsoever. They haven't dealt with hiring and firing, setting salaries, knowing what kinds of performance are appropriate or inappropriate and so on. A long-retired colleague says that the church is the last place left where average people can shake their fists, raise their voices, and get results. Well, long story short, my pal got results.
I hadn't thought about him or the congregation in question for several years prior to the arrival of the invitation. I got past the injury and resultant anger (hey, I am a guy!) a long time ago. But I have no interest in going back. When we clergy folk leave a place, we are supposed to be gone. I believe in that. We are to respect our successor(s) and leave them to attend to those now appointed to their care. Most of my stops have left me with fond memories. Two, not so much. But I have never gone back to any of them but one, and that, once. Everything was different. They had moved on, and so had I. It wasn't a comfortable day.
People often try to empathize with our weekend work schedules. And, sure, I'd like to stay out on Beale Street all Saturday night every now and then. But sometimes that Sunday schedule sure comes in handy. And this is one of those times.
Sorry, but I just can't get away on a Sunday morning. Thank goodness!
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Moving in a Better Direction
I am, every day of my life, more thankful than I can put into words for the accident of birth that put me in the United States of America. As with all grace, I did nothing to earn this blessing, and neither did you. A simple change of a last name, a religion, and a DNA cell here or there, and I am in China or Iraq or Darfur or...you get the idea. No, it is nothing but a stunning blessing to have been born into this country. That said, I am not proud of my country every day. We are often greedy. We are frequently arrogant. We regularly expect people in other countries to behave as though they have had all of the advantages of life that we have had, and seek to punish them when they don't.
Today is different. I am proud of my country. Nationally, we have declared that we are fed up with arrogant leadership that plows ahead with bad policies no matter what anyone thinks. We have told our President who can't recall ever making a mistake that he has made several, and bad ones, too. And to his minimal credit, he took a short step toward doing better today by allowing Mr. Rumsfeld to go back to bullying business people rather than killing our men and women in uniform. Bush's The Donald maintained his posture, even in humiliation, lecturing us all that the only reason that he was going was that Iraq is a war that is "little understood." Yeah, if only we were as smart as the Neo-Cons, we'd want Rummy to keep this crap up until George II leaves at noon on January 20, 2009.
Other great human beings dismissed yesterday: Rick Santorum, Mr. "Gays are worse than people who practice bestiality" was excused by the apparently sobering up Pennsylvanians, who also turned out Curt "What do you mean I can't force companies that want my ear to throw contracts to my daughter? Weldon; the loathsome Ken Blackwell, architect of the theft of the 2004 Presidential Election, was thrashed by Ohioans fed up with the corruption of the Republican party; many others, from Bush lapdogs to just plain criminals were given permanent vacations.
I only have one regret: Harold Ford, Jr. lost in my state. Bob Corker is a joke; my thoughts on him are in a previous post. But Harold's defeat carried with it some measure of encouragement. In this southern, Republican state, against an opponent who was way too comfortable using race as an issue, a black man lost by fewer than 50,000 votes. Harold polled almost 900,000 votes. Even if we must still be ashamed that the better candidate was defeated by his skin color, we are making progress. Just think, if only 50k bigots had stayed home, Tennessee would have elected the first African-American Senator from the south since Senators have been elected by the popular vote. We almost did something great! I am a United Methodist Democrat. That means, by definition, that I am an optimist. I fully expect that in two years, we will have an opportunity to take the step we didn't quite make this year. Harold is far too fine a political leader to end his career at age 36. He will be back, and we should elect him when he runs next.
There are many difficult days still ahead. But we will now have the checks and balances system constructed by our Constitutional founders in place to prevent this President from racing, solo, into all of the quicksand that Mr. Bush has found in his 6 years in office. We will have the opportunity to look into all of the questionable dealings leading up to war, in conducting the war, and in botching this time since that is so obviously breaking down into civil war in Iraq. Questions will now be asked, and answers will be required. It's about time!
There will also be a great deal less of this "God prefers us" and "God wants us to do this" garbage from the American extremists. Those who have claimed mandates to "do the will of God" in our country have been put in their place. Because anyone who has ever had a serious encounter with the Bible knows that God loves all of this human creation. We are all God's children, those who know it and try to live accordingly, and those who don't get it yet. And the single group with whom Jesus Christ is constantly, invariably harsh is that group that continually presented themselves as knowing God, but demonstrating none of the grace, mercy and love that God embodies. My right-wing sisters and brothers, pharaseeism is not of Christ. Give it up! We are still all sinners who have fallen short of the glory of God! You didn't get yourself saved, and you don't get extra credit for getting there earlier in the day. Stop acting like you did.
Instead of screaming "Murderer" at young women who are so desperate in their circumstances that they have decided that abortion is the only way out, use your energy and resources to provide prenatal care and make the adoption process less costly. Instead of blaming gays for threatening the sanctity of marriage, use your commitment to Christ to establish mentoring programs for young couples who desperately need to be educated that the marriage contract isn't a "let's just try this for a while, and if it doesn't work out, so what?" type of thing. Instead of trying to kill all the terrorists, why not advocate for programs to provide food, education and opportunity for the children of the poorest and most repressive nations of the world. Osama bin Laden is the exception; most terrorists aren't rich and powerful. They are, for the most part, disaffected, isolated people who feel no connection to other human beings, and see no opportunity for their lives. How might any of us react if we had been born in the Gaza Strip, Ethiopia or North Korea? It is too easy to impose our expectations on people who have never known a good day, heard one encouraging word, or been told that they matter to anyone for any reason. Why not try to live out that old "Love one another" thing before we lower ourselves to that "kill them all and let God sort them out" mentality. Because we can't kill in God's name any more than the bin Ladens of the world can. Because God's word is life. And that's not debatable.
Today is different. I am proud of my country. Nationally, we have declared that we are fed up with arrogant leadership that plows ahead with bad policies no matter what anyone thinks. We have told our President who can't recall ever making a mistake that he has made several, and bad ones, too. And to his minimal credit, he took a short step toward doing better today by allowing Mr. Rumsfeld to go back to bullying business people rather than killing our men and women in uniform. Bush's The Donald maintained his posture, even in humiliation, lecturing us all that the only reason that he was going was that Iraq is a war that is "little understood." Yeah, if only we were as smart as the Neo-Cons, we'd want Rummy to keep this crap up until George II leaves at noon on January 20, 2009.
Other great human beings dismissed yesterday: Rick Santorum, Mr. "Gays are worse than people who practice bestiality" was excused by the apparently sobering up Pennsylvanians, who also turned out Curt "What do you mean I can't force companies that want my ear to throw contracts to my daughter? Weldon; the loathsome Ken Blackwell, architect of the theft of the 2004 Presidential Election, was thrashed by Ohioans fed up with the corruption of the Republican party; many others, from Bush lapdogs to just plain criminals were given permanent vacations.
I only have one regret: Harold Ford, Jr. lost in my state. Bob Corker is a joke; my thoughts on him are in a previous post. But Harold's defeat carried with it some measure of encouragement. In this southern, Republican state, against an opponent who was way too comfortable using race as an issue, a black man lost by fewer than 50,000 votes. Harold polled almost 900,000 votes. Even if we must still be ashamed that the better candidate was defeated by his skin color, we are making progress. Just think, if only 50k bigots had stayed home, Tennessee would have elected the first African-American Senator from the south since Senators have been elected by the popular vote. We almost did something great! I am a United Methodist Democrat. That means, by definition, that I am an optimist. I fully expect that in two years, we will have an opportunity to take the step we didn't quite make this year. Harold is far too fine a political leader to end his career at age 36. He will be back, and we should elect him when he runs next.
There are many difficult days still ahead. But we will now have the checks and balances system constructed by our Constitutional founders in place to prevent this President from racing, solo, into all of the quicksand that Mr. Bush has found in his 6 years in office. We will have the opportunity to look into all of the questionable dealings leading up to war, in conducting the war, and in botching this time since that is so obviously breaking down into civil war in Iraq. Questions will now be asked, and answers will be required. It's about time!
There will also be a great deal less of this "God prefers us" and "God wants us to do this" garbage from the American extremists. Those who have claimed mandates to "do the will of God" in our country have been put in their place. Because anyone who has ever had a serious encounter with the Bible knows that God loves all of this human creation. We are all God's children, those who know it and try to live accordingly, and those who don't get it yet. And the single group with whom Jesus Christ is constantly, invariably harsh is that group that continually presented themselves as knowing God, but demonstrating none of the grace, mercy and love that God embodies. My right-wing sisters and brothers, pharaseeism is not of Christ. Give it up! We are still all sinners who have fallen short of the glory of God! You didn't get yourself saved, and you don't get extra credit for getting there earlier in the day. Stop acting like you did.
Instead of screaming "Murderer" at young women who are so desperate in their circumstances that they have decided that abortion is the only way out, use your energy and resources to provide prenatal care and make the adoption process less costly. Instead of blaming gays for threatening the sanctity of marriage, use your commitment to Christ to establish mentoring programs for young couples who desperately need to be educated that the marriage contract isn't a "let's just try this for a while, and if it doesn't work out, so what?" type of thing. Instead of trying to kill all the terrorists, why not advocate for programs to provide food, education and opportunity for the children of the poorest and most repressive nations of the world. Osama bin Laden is the exception; most terrorists aren't rich and powerful. They are, for the most part, disaffected, isolated people who feel no connection to other human beings, and see no opportunity for their lives. How might any of us react if we had been born in the Gaza Strip, Ethiopia or North Korea? It is too easy to impose our expectations on people who have never known a good day, heard one encouraging word, or been told that they matter to anyone for any reason. Why not try to live out that old "Love one another" thing before we lower ourselves to that "kill them all and let God sort them out" mentality. Because we can't kill in God's name any more than the bin Ladens of the world can. Because God's word is life. And that's not debatable.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Almost Done
The election is upon us. We should be free of political advertising by bed time tomorrow. Hallelujah! But first...
I am a native Tennessean. Born here, lived all my life here except for the four years as a kid, and three as an adult, that bishops exiled us to Kentucky. The majority of my life has been spent in Memphis, or the Memphis metropolitan area. I know all about the Fords. I don't think much of many of them. But I have had the privilege of being in the presence of Harold Ford, Jr. on multiple occasions, and I think a great deal of him. I have seen him in a worship service honor the 90th birthday of Dr. Cecil Humphreys, one of the pillars of Memphis State University/University of Memphis. I watched him express to an elderly man the genuine appreciation of the community for work done largely before Harold was born. And he knew his material in acknowledging Dr. Humphreys' accomplishments. No notes, no script. I have seen the Congressman in my daughters' schools, not for photo ops, but to talk to the kids and tell them that they could do great things if they stayed in school and studied hard. How do I know several of those occasions weren't photo ops? Only one aide accompanied Harold, to move him along to keep his schedule. You see, he liked talking to the children so much that he would have stayed all day on his own. I have seen him in the dining rooms of retirement homes run by our church-related ministry to the aging, responding to every question seriously and graciously. I have seen his work to respond to VA problems, Medicare issues and Social Security concerns. I have friends who have called on him when they needed someone to put in a word with the Small Business Administration, and gotten the help they needed.
Corker's advertising has been shameful. Harold Ford, Jr. is not John Ford. Nor is he his father. He is his own man who has served the Ninth District honorably and well. Desperate to find some way to label Harold liberal, they ran an ad that told how he had outdone Ted Kennedy and Hillary Clinton...in junkets. Did Corker bother to mention that the vast majority of Congressional junkets are privately funded? No, he just wanted to link Harold's name to the northeastern senators. Harold is no liberal. His values are far more conservative than mine. Worst of all, Corker has told the voters of Tennessee that Harold is after white women. After all, he attended a function at the Playboy Mansion. How proud the citizens of Chattanooga must be: the best thing that their former mayor has to recommend him is that his mom, his wife and his daughters think well of him, and his opponent is a black man that, Corker says, chases white women.
Harold Ford, Jr. is a young, single man. I would think that an interest in women would make him a thoroughly acceptable candidate to the buffoons who continue to fight this absurd battle over the rights of non-traditional couples to marry. Friends, be very careful in your condemnations. As the pathetic plight of Rev. Haggard reminds us AGAIN, that judging others thing will come around to bite you every time. I would think that a bachelor might be a refreshing change from all of those hypocrites who condemned Bill Clinton's (absolutely condemnable) behavior, all the while carrying on their own affairs not of state. I will personally guarantee that Harold will not cheat on his wife!
Bob Corker has even criticized Harold Ford, Jr. for being articulate and intelligent. This aspect of the campaign smacks of the 1940s when Rep. Claude Pepper (later Senator Pepper) was attacked by his opponent in rural areas of Florida. The charge: "Claude Pepper is a heterosexual!" There is no more space in our state for an educated man with some polish about him to be attacked for kowing something. Must we always expect to be near the bottom in our educational performance? Mr. Corker would, from the images in his advertising, say yes! "Being glad that Mississippi is still in the union to keep us off the bottom" is no more an education policy than Bush's "YEE-HAW" is a foreign policy.
The truth of the matter is that there is no reason whatsoever to vote for Mr. Corker. He is, pure and simple, more of the same crap from the same party that has sought to destroy our nation for the last six years. Bush does not deserve, and we cannot afford, one more day of a compliant Congress.
Surely in 2006 we Tennesseans have grown enough to be able to evaluate these two men on their merits. I cannot comprehend that we will defeat the better candidate, and encourage the performance of the President, because that better candidate's shell is just a shade too dark. God help us!
I am a native Tennessean. Born here, lived all my life here except for the four years as a kid, and three as an adult, that bishops exiled us to Kentucky. The majority of my life has been spent in Memphis, or the Memphis metropolitan area. I know all about the Fords. I don't think much of many of them. But I have had the privilege of being in the presence of Harold Ford, Jr. on multiple occasions, and I think a great deal of him. I have seen him in a worship service honor the 90th birthday of Dr. Cecil Humphreys, one of the pillars of Memphis State University/University of Memphis. I watched him express to an elderly man the genuine appreciation of the community for work done largely before Harold was born. And he knew his material in acknowledging Dr. Humphreys' accomplishments. No notes, no script. I have seen the Congressman in my daughters' schools, not for photo ops, but to talk to the kids and tell them that they could do great things if they stayed in school and studied hard. How do I know several of those occasions weren't photo ops? Only one aide accompanied Harold, to move him along to keep his schedule. You see, he liked talking to the children so much that he would have stayed all day on his own. I have seen him in the dining rooms of retirement homes run by our church-related ministry to the aging, responding to every question seriously and graciously. I have seen his work to respond to VA problems, Medicare issues and Social Security concerns. I have friends who have called on him when they needed someone to put in a word with the Small Business Administration, and gotten the help they needed.
Corker's advertising has been shameful. Harold Ford, Jr. is not John Ford. Nor is he his father. He is his own man who has served the Ninth District honorably and well. Desperate to find some way to label Harold liberal, they ran an ad that told how he had outdone Ted Kennedy and Hillary Clinton...in junkets. Did Corker bother to mention that the vast majority of Congressional junkets are privately funded? No, he just wanted to link Harold's name to the northeastern senators. Harold is no liberal. His values are far more conservative than mine. Worst of all, Corker has told the voters of Tennessee that Harold is after white women. After all, he attended a function at the Playboy Mansion. How proud the citizens of Chattanooga must be: the best thing that their former mayor has to recommend him is that his mom, his wife and his daughters think well of him, and his opponent is a black man that, Corker says, chases white women.
Harold Ford, Jr. is a young, single man. I would think that an interest in women would make him a thoroughly acceptable candidate to the buffoons who continue to fight this absurd battle over the rights of non-traditional couples to marry. Friends, be very careful in your condemnations. As the pathetic plight of Rev. Haggard reminds us AGAIN, that judging others thing will come around to bite you every time. I would think that a bachelor might be a refreshing change from all of those hypocrites who condemned Bill Clinton's (absolutely condemnable) behavior, all the while carrying on their own affairs not of state. I will personally guarantee that Harold will not cheat on his wife!
Bob Corker has even criticized Harold Ford, Jr. for being articulate and intelligent. This aspect of the campaign smacks of the 1940s when Rep. Claude Pepper (later Senator Pepper) was attacked by his opponent in rural areas of Florida. The charge: "Claude Pepper is a heterosexual!" There is no more space in our state for an educated man with some polish about him to be attacked for kowing something. Must we always expect to be near the bottom in our educational performance? Mr. Corker would, from the images in his advertising, say yes! "Being glad that Mississippi is still in the union to keep us off the bottom" is no more an education policy than Bush's "YEE-HAW" is a foreign policy.
The truth of the matter is that there is no reason whatsoever to vote for Mr. Corker. He is, pure and simple, more of the same crap from the same party that has sought to destroy our nation for the last six years. Bush does not deserve, and we cannot afford, one more day of a compliant Congress.
Surely in 2006 we Tennesseans have grown enough to be able to evaluate these two men on their merits. I cannot comprehend that we will defeat the better candidate, and encourage the performance of the President, because that better candidate's shell is just a shade too dark. God help us!
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Channeling the Old Larry King USA Today Column
(To be read in a gruff, slightly incoherent voice, with suspenders on)
Pillows are soft.
Peyton Manning is good.
I like cheese.
Elections are fun.
Hey Broadway Joe, I'd like to kiss Suzy Kolber, too.
No, maybe I'll just make her the ninth Mrs. King!
I can't understand this Borat when he speaks.
Tomorrow night's Pre-Election show: Fabio, Howie Mandel and Jessica Simpson on the Republicans' prospects for retaining control of the Congress.
Elizabeth Taylor is a hottie!
I like yogurt.
Tuesday's Election Night Program: Senator John McCain, Ken Mehlman and Bay Buchanon on
the nations's best roller coasters.
Babies are small.
I want bigger glasses.
Maybe there have been some allegations, but that Michael Jackson is some entertainer!
Wednesday's Election Wrap Up Show: The President of the United States on Brims vs. Lays:
Which Pork Rinds Are Best?
I've never seen e coli on my spinach.
Liza Minnelli? What a singer!
Dick Cheney is grumpy.
There sure is a lot of poker on television.
Salsa is tasty!
Until next time...
Pillows are soft.
Peyton Manning is good.
I like cheese.
Elections are fun.
Hey Broadway Joe, I'd like to kiss Suzy Kolber, too.
No, maybe I'll just make her the ninth Mrs. King!
I can't understand this Borat when he speaks.
Tomorrow night's Pre-Election show: Fabio, Howie Mandel and Jessica Simpson on the Republicans' prospects for retaining control of the Congress.
Elizabeth Taylor is a hottie!
I like yogurt.
Tuesday's Election Night Program: Senator John McCain, Ken Mehlman and Bay Buchanon on
the nations's best roller coasters.
Babies are small.
I want bigger glasses.
Maybe there have been some allegations, but that Michael Jackson is some entertainer!
Wednesday's Election Wrap Up Show: The President of the United States on Brims vs. Lays:
Which Pork Rinds Are Best?
I've never seen e coli on my spinach.
Liza Minnelli? What a singer!
Dick Cheney is grumpy.
There sure is a lot of poker on television.
Salsa is tasty!
Until next time...
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Pinch Hitting for Baseball: Music
B. B. King came home last night. The greatest ambassador the blues ever had is 81 years old now. His hair is white. His line: "I never thought I'd have anything turn white." He sits to play Lucillle now. He is burdened by age and diabetes. But upon taking the stage, he seemed to have been set free. His two hour performance included an old man's wonderful reflections on life and music, and a still-young passion for entertaining and sharing his music. He has always been effusive in appreciating his audience, and we did everything in our power to return that appreciation to him.
He seemed to be suggesting throughout the show that he is done performing. At the end of the evening he said that whether these two shows (the second coming tonight) are his last, or not, he was deeply grateful for the way we received him. Loud "No!"s rang out in response to the suggestion that he might have finished his work. After all, B. B. is the blues predecessor of Bob Dylan; always on the road, always performing, always looking for that next crowd that would listen and enjoy the music, always PLAYING THE MUSIC. The Beale Street Blues Boy sang the Pepticon jingle for us last night. He finished, of course, with The Thrill is Gone. But it wasn't. The old man still has the powerful, roaring voice that is well-known to most everybody in America and people all around the world. 90 countries he reports performing in. He sang and he played. Mr. King has had a television commercial for a blood-sugar monitor that doesn't require pricking the fingers several times every day. It must work, for his playing was exactly what we all came for, immediately identifiable as the instrumental voice of its owner, as the voices of all the great guitarists are.
If he is nearing the completion of his musical task, he is going out on top. We should all be so wise. It was the voice of wisdom that told us that even if he doesn't play it any more, the music will still be there. He commended just about everybody, by name, who follows in his footsteps. He told us they will all still be playing.
But, sir, none of them are you. And you are a treasure. A black man born in Indianola, MS, in 1925, open and generous with all people. The greatest proponent for his artform, who makes time to acknowledge other artists who will never be in his league. An old man who took time to speak to a child during his performance, and toss him a guitar pick. A public figure for 60 years, comfortable with his fame and accomodating to the public that has put demands on him for all that time.
My stepson will be 17 next month. He's a good kid. As happens along this age, we don't spend as much time together as we used to, and will again in a few years. His mom and I aren't so bright right now, but we'll be better in five or six years. He's a guitar player. I don't think he's ever paid any particular attention to the blues. He just has that general awareness of B. B. King that all Americans have. After his first experience of a genuine legend last night, he was quiet. As we got to the car, he said, "That was awesome!" When we got to the house, "Thank you so much." Thank you, Mr. King, for a great evening and the great music that has graced my entire life! Thank you for connecting with one of our kids. Thank you for your life's work, and for the way you've gone about that work. And, wherever life takes you from here, God Bless you!
He seemed to be suggesting throughout the show that he is done performing. At the end of the evening he said that whether these two shows (the second coming tonight) are his last, or not, he was deeply grateful for the way we received him. Loud "No!"s rang out in response to the suggestion that he might have finished his work. After all, B. B. is the blues predecessor of Bob Dylan; always on the road, always performing, always looking for that next crowd that would listen and enjoy the music, always PLAYING THE MUSIC. The Beale Street Blues Boy sang the Pepticon jingle for us last night. He finished, of course, with The Thrill is Gone. But it wasn't. The old man still has the powerful, roaring voice that is well-known to most everybody in America and people all around the world. 90 countries he reports performing in. He sang and he played. Mr. King has had a television commercial for a blood-sugar monitor that doesn't require pricking the fingers several times every day. It must work, for his playing was exactly what we all came for, immediately identifiable as the instrumental voice of its owner, as the voices of all the great guitarists are.
If he is nearing the completion of his musical task, he is going out on top. We should all be so wise. It was the voice of wisdom that told us that even if he doesn't play it any more, the music will still be there. He commended just about everybody, by name, who follows in his footsteps. He told us they will all still be playing.
But, sir, none of them are you. And you are a treasure. A black man born in Indianola, MS, in 1925, open and generous with all people. The greatest proponent for his artform, who makes time to acknowledge other artists who will never be in his league. An old man who took time to speak to a child during his performance, and toss him a guitar pick. A public figure for 60 years, comfortable with his fame and accomodating to the public that has put demands on him for all that time.
My stepson will be 17 next month. He's a good kid. As happens along this age, we don't spend as much time together as we used to, and will again in a few years. His mom and I aren't so bright right now, but we'll be better in five or six years. He's a guitar player. I don't think he's ever paid any particular attention to the blues. He just has that general awareness of B. B. King that all Americans have. After his first experience of a genuine legend last night, he was quiet. As we got to the car, he said, "That was awesome!" When we got to the house, "Thank you so much." Thank you, Mr. King, for a great evening and the great music that has graced my entire life! Thank you for connecting with one of our kids. Thank you for your life's work, and for the way you've gone about that work. And, wherever life takes you from here, God Bless you!
Monday, October 30, 2006
Holy Cow, It's Over
It is, for me, sort of like Sunday and Monday must have been for St. Louisans. On Sunday, the joy of a Championship Parade and Rally that drew far more people than could ever hope to fit into Busch III, and on Monday it was announced that they live in the Most Dangerous City in America (Woo-Hoo, we Memphians dropped to 13th!). Friday was A World Series Winner, Saturday was all the reporting on same, Sunday was the celebration. Monday? Cataract surgery for my wife. (She's viewing the world significantly better, by the way) No baseball.
The two best things I've ever seen about the off-season? 1) Rogers Hornsby, when asked what he did in the winter, when there is no baseball, responded, "I look out the window and wait for spring." Amen. 2) The next to last legitimate Commissioner of Baseball, A. Bartlett Giamatti, at his literary height wrote: "It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, it stops." The essay is "The Green Fields of the Mind" and is available in several places. I encourage anyone feeling grief today to hunt it up, and keep it close at hand this winter. It will help.
107 days until Pitchers and Catchers Report.
The two best things I've ever seen about the off-season? 1) Rogers Hornsby, when asked what he did in the winter, when there is no baseball, responded, "I look out the window and wait for spring." Amen. 2) The next to last legitimate Commissioner of Baseball, A. Bartlett Giamatti, at his literary height wrote: "It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, it stops." The essay is "The Green Fields of the Mind" and is available in several places. I encourage anyone feeling grief today to hunt it up, and keep it close at hand this winter. It will help.
107 days until Pitchers and Catchers Report.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
X
The great franchise of the National League has returned to the winner's circle. The St. Louis Cardinals got it done in five games against the Detroit Tigers. The Cards' tenth title (sorry about the Super Bowlish title above) was 24 years coming, by far the biggest gap since the World Series title first came to the midwest in 1926. Only then, it wasn't the midwest. The Cardinals were, for eons, baseball's western-most and southern-most team. That's why, to this day, millions of us between the Smokies and the Rockies make the pilgrimmage every year. I stood in Lyndon Johnson's childhood bedroom several years ago, and read a plaque attached to a radio. The plaque explained how the future President of the United States listened, all the way down in Johnson City, TX, to Cardinals' broadcasts early in his life, way before Astros or Rangers crossed anybody's mind.
This is, perhaps, the Cardinals' least likely championship. The Cards' injury problems alone would have prevented any sane person from expecting tonight's clincher. Pujols missed 16 days with an oblique. Mulder wasn't right all season, before finally checking out for surgery. Edmonds bashed his head on the warning track, resulting in continuing problems with Post-Concussion Syndrome. Rolen's surgically-repaired left shoulder can't stand up to a full season. Eckstein missed time. The franchise's all-time save leader, Jason Isringhausen, watched his hip fall apart on him.
It got so bad that castoffs Jeff Weaver and Preston Wilson were picked up during the summer. Thank God! Rookies like Chris Duncan and Josh Kinney and Tyler Johnson, Anthony Reyes and Adam Wainwright had to produce and produce quick. They did. Walt Jockety has to be very, very satisfied tonight. We all wondered why he didn't do more at the trade deadline. Turns out, he did plenty.
Which leaves Tony LaRussa. Tony is too smart for baseball. He's an attorney, for crying out loud. He hasn't seemed one of us; he lives in California and works with the PETA people. And Whitey Herzog has always been available to remind everyone that Cardinal Baseball is about speed and stolen bases. Not this home run hitting nonsense. Many people have savaged Tony's record. He had the best players in Oakland and in St. Louis; why only one title? Everyone's forgotten about the magic that a Kurt Gibson can sprinkle on a World Series, or the insanity of the Nasty Boys and the Idiots.
Well he didn't have the best team this season. Only the most beat up. And somehow, he convinced whatever able bodies and walking wounded he had from day to day to ignore their record and believe that they could get it done. And the third winningest manager of all time, who actually has a shot at reaching second, became only the second manager in Major League history to win the World Series in both leagues. Tony LaRussa is a Hall of Famer. And he should be in a St. Louis Cardinals cap on his plaque. Take LaRussa to heart, Cardinals fans. He, more than anyone else, (including The Great Pujols) won you your tenth World Series championship tonight.
This is, perhaps, the Cardinals' least likely championship. The Cards' injury problems alone would have prevented any sane person from expecting tonight's clincher. Pujols missed 16 days with an oblique. Mulder wasn't right all season, before finally checking out for surgery. Edmonds bashed his head on the warning track, resulting in continuing problems with Post-Concussion Syndrome. Rolen's surgically-repaired left shoulder can't stand up to a full season. Eckstein missed time. The franchise's all-time save leader, Jason Isringhausen, watched his hip fall apart on him.
It got so bad that castoffs Jeff Weaver and Preston Wilson were picked up during the summer. Thank God! Rookies like Chris Duncan and Josh Kinney and Tyler Johnson, Anthony Reyes and Adam Wainwright had to produce and produce quick. They did. Walt Jockety has to be very, very satisfied tonight. We all wondered why he didn't do more at the trade deadline. Turns out, he did plenty.
Which leaves Tony LaRussa. Tony is too smart for baseball. He's an attorney, for crying out loud. He hasn't seemed one of us; he lives in California and works with the PETA people. And Whitey Herzog has always been available to remind everyone that Cardinal Baseball is about speed and stolen bases. Not this home run hitting nonsense. Many people have savaged Tony's record. He had the best players in Oakland and in St. Louis; why only one title? Everyone's forgotten about the magic that a Kurt Gibson can sprinkle on a World Series, or the insanity of the Nasty Boys and the Idiots.
Well he didn't have the best team this season. Only the most beat up. And somehow, he convinced whatever able bodies and walking wounded he had from day to day to ignore their record and believe that they could get it done. And the third winningest manager of all time, who actually has a shot at reaching second, became only the second manager in Major League history to win the World Series in both leagues. Tony LaRussa is a Hall of Famer. And he should be in a St. Louis Cardinals cap on his plaque. Take LaRussa to heart, Cardinals fans. He, more than anyone else, (including The Great Pujols) won you your tenth World Series championship tonight.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Extremely Untraditional Wisdom
Baseball has a new labor agreement.
Savor those words. Relish in them. Let them roll off your tongue.
For the first time in my life as a fan, Baseball has its house in order. There will be no talk of strikes, except on the batters. Lockouts? Not this year! Horrible, petty wrangling between millionaires and billionaires? None, thanks. They all did their jobs this time, and with two months to spare before the old agreement expires.
I am not a fan of Bud Selig. Everyone who has had the burden of discussing the former used car salesman with me knows that. But this time, he got it right. It isn't the first time, but it is without question, the biggest.
The Game could have died in the winter of 1994-1995. The players went out in August, and Bud canceled the World Series. For the first time since John McGraw was scared of the Boston Red Sox in 1904, there was no end to the season. World War One didn't stop the Series. Neither did WWII, nor Korea, nor Viet Nam, nor strikes or lockouts, until 1994. Had it not been for Cal Ripken, Jr., The Game might never have recovered. His pursuit of the Iron Horse captured the nation, and brought everyone back. His victory lap around Camden Yards upon the occasion of 2,131 might as well have been a victory lap celebrating the recovery of Baseball.
It is resilient, the summer Game. And with Cal showing the way, it came all the way back. This year, again, attendance records were set. Revenues reached all-time highs. Life is good for Baseball.
There would have been no return had they messed it up again. Finally, we have seen good stewardship on the part of those entrusted with this glorious tradition. They recognized that they could actually kill the golden goose, but that there was no reason to do it. We will spend the winter rehashing Ryan Howard and David Ortiz, Zumaya and Papelbon, when Glavine's 300th will come, and an amazing postseason. And not one word about the Collective Bargaining Agreement. Until 2011!
Thanks, Bud! And Bob. And Don and Gene. You did good. For all of us.
Savor those words. Relish in them. Let them roll off your tongue.
For the first time in my life as a fan, Baseball has its house in order. There will be no talk of strikes, except on the batters. Lockouts? Not this year! Horrible, petty wrangling between millionaires and billionaires? None, thanks. They all did their jobs this time, and with two months to spare before the old agreement expires.
I am not a fan of Bud Selig. Everyone who has had the burden of discussing the former used car salesman with me knows that. But this time, he got it right. It isn't the first time, but it is without question, the biggest.
The Game could have died in the winter of 1994-1995. The players went out in August, and Bud canceled the World Series. For the first time since John McGraw was scared of the Boston Red Sox in 1904, there was no end to the season. World War One didn't stop the Series. Neither did WWII, nor Korea, nor Viet Nam, nor strikes or lockouts, until 1994. Had it not been for Cal Ripken, Jr., The Game might never have recovered. His pursuit of the Iron Horse captured the nation, and brought everyone back. His victory lap around Camden Yards upon the occasion of 2,131 might as well have been a victory lap celebrating the recovery of Baseball.
It is resilient, the summer Game. And with Cal showing the way, it came all the way back. This year, again, attendance records were set. Revenues reached all-time highs. Life is good for Baseball.
There would have been no return had they messed it up again. Finally, we have seen good stewardship on the part of those entrusted with this glorious tradition. They recognized that they could actually kill the golden goose, but that there was no reason to do it. We will spend the winter rehashing Ryan Howard and David Ortiz, Zumaya and Papelbon, when Glavine's 300th will come, and an amazing postseason. And not one word about the Collective Bargaining Agreement. Until 2011!
Thanks, Bud! And Bob. And Don and Gene. You did good. For all of us.
One Just For Me
The World Series is shaping up into a great series. Anthony Reyes was spectacular in Game One. Jeff Weaver was good in Game Two; Kenny Rogers was just better. Game Three will probably dictate the direction for the rest of the series.
Now, with that out of the way...
We are now a couple of weeks from Election Day. We will hold a referendum on the governance of George W. Bush and his Congress. I will gladly own my bias. I find George W. Bush to be the most reprehensible national figure of my lifetime. Understand the obvious: that includes Richard Nixon, Henry Kissinger, George Wallace, Robert McNamara, James Watt, Edwin Meese, John Ashcroft and the Dick Cheney. OK, just barely more reprehensible than Ashcroft and Cheney.
In all likelihood, George W. Bush has never been elected President of the United States. If not for Kathryn Harris and the Brother-in-Chief in Florida in 2000, and Kenneth Blackwell in Ohio in 2004, we might have been spared this travesty that refuses to end. And yet, as deluded as O. J. Simpson, Mr. Bush has claimed for himself a mandate that has never existed by any known definition of the word.
Bill Clinton left office on January 21, 2001. I would not want to leave my wife or my daughters alone with Mr. Clinton. He certainly has his personal failings. But as he completed the Presidency to which he was indisputably elected, the United States of America was at our strongest point since the end of World War II. We had a record surplus, an economy that had seen its longest period of sustained growth in our history, crime rates that had dropped for each year of Mr. Clinton's administration, abortion rates that were lower than at any time since Rowe v. Wade was decided, and a renewed position of prestige and respect in most parts of the world. Compare that to where we are now.
Mr. Bush has been a disaster of unprecedented proportions for our nation and the world. We are more deeply in debt than ever before, and still Mr. Bush is the first President in our history to cut taxes while adding war spending to the budget. Like the Bush tax cuts, the economy has been spectacular for his Pioneers; tough for many of the rest of us; brutal for those at the bottom. In spite of his having been in office for eight months by the time September 11, 2001 arrived, he has consistently blamed the horrible events of that day on the Clinton Administration. This, in spite of his band of incompetents, led by then-National Security Advisor Dr. Rice, who acknowledged to the 9-11 Commission having received a CIA briefing entitled, "Bin Laden Determined to Attack Inside the United States" which she never discussed with the President.
After September 11, Mr. Bush attacked Afghanistan with as close to universal support as any President will ever have on any issue. But he was already looking for a pretext to invade Iraq. He arrived in office with a determination to attack and remove Saddam Hussein. Bin Laden's attacks became the cover he had so desperately been seeking. And in claiming the fantasy linkage between Bin Laden and Hussein, and continuing to promulgate that idea after it had been shown to be a complete and total fabrication, Mr. Bush played more into Bin Laden's hands than if our War President had offered to fund the next Al Qaeda operation. The ongoing debacle in Iraq has accomplished nothing except to kill more Americans than died on September 11, 2001, and enough Iraqis-most of them who hated Saddam Hussein and had suffered under his rule-to ensure that my grandchildren and their grandchildren will have to worry about terrorist attacks throughout their lives.
The great Christians at the helm of our country knew how to deal with their enemies within, as well. Mr. Bush's underlings exposed a CIA operative who happened to be married to an honest man. When Joe Wilson refused to march in lock-step on the created out of whole cloth effort of Saddam to buy nuclear materials in Africa, they tried to get his wife, Valerie Plame, killed. They have called anyone who disagrees with them unpatriotic. They have told the world, "You're either with us, or you're with the terrorists." Dennis Hastert actually blamed Bill Clinton for his problems that arose from protecting the would-be pedophile, Mark Foley. Mr. Speaker, can't you come up with anything more original? This kind of revenge seeking, name calling and hyperbolic tough-guy language is very familiar. It comes directly from the cowboy stories and movies that most American men grew up on. It has no place in grown up life. It is childish. It is foolhardy. It is what is meant by the old Texas phrase, "All hat and no cattle." And it demonstrates no knowledge of, or commitment to, Jesus Christ.
When we allow the occupation of the Oval Office by a person who claims that God chose him to be President at this crucial time to deal with these great issues, we get what we deserve. This administration has made gay marriage an issue, while they have prevented the photographing of the flag-draped coffins of our dead children coming home from the only war that we have ever started. They have wrecked our nation at every point available to them, and they believe that they have done it in the name of God. They are, indeed, the American equivalent of the Taliban.
Now, they warn the public that if the Democrats come to control the Congress, Bin Laden will be invited to parade down Pennsylvania Avenue. They cannot run on their record, and they know it. So they trot out the only option available to them: they try to scare us all over again. The terrorism alert level will certainly be raised before Election Day. Another attack will miraculously be prevented at the last second. The fears of Americans will continue to be manipulated, strictly for political gain. As will the gas prices, which will continue to fall until we have voted.
Mr. Bush was once asked at a Press Conference if he had made any mistakes as President. He could not think of a single one. Sir, you just haven't been paying attention. His entire presidency has been a mistake. And if we choose to continue to supply him with the lapdog Congress that he has enjoyed for six years, then, again, we get what we deserve!
Now, with that out of the way...
We are now a couple of weeks from Election Day. We will hold a referendum on the governance of George W. Bush and his Congress. I will gladly own my bias. I find George W. Bush to be the most reprehensible national figure of my lifetime. Understand the obvious: that includes Richard Nixon, Henry Kissinger, George Wallace, Robert McNamara, James Watt, Edwin Meese, John Ashcroft and the Dick Cheney. OK, just barely more reprehensible than Ashcroft and Cheney.
In all likelihood, George W. Bush has never been elected President of the United States. If not for Kathryn Harris and the Brother-in-Chief in Florida in 2000, and Kenneth Blackwell in Ohio in 2004, we might have been spared this travesty that refuses to end. And yet, as deluded as O. J. Simpson, Mr. Bush has claimed for himself a mandate that has never existed by any known definition of the word.
Bill Clinton left office on January 21, 2001. I would not want to leave my wife or my daughters alone with Mr. Clinton. He certainly has his personal failings. But as he completed the Presidency to which he was indisputably elected, the United States of America was at our strongest point since the end of World War II. We had a record surplus, an economy that had seen its longest period of sustained growth in our history, crime rates that had dropped for each year of Mr. Clinton's administration, abortion rates that were lower than at any time since Rowe v. Wade was decided, and a renewed position of prestige and respect in most parts of the world. Compare that to where we are now.
Mr. Bush has been a disaster of unprecedented proportions for our nation and the world. We are more deeply in debt than ever before, and still Mr. Bush is the first President in our history to cut taxes while adding war spending to the budget. Like the Bush tax cuts, the economy has been spectacular for his Pioneers; tough for many of the rest of us; brutal for those at the bottom. In spite of his having been in office for eight months by the time September 11, 2001 arrived, he has consistently blamed the horrible events of that day on the Clinton Administration. This, in spite of his band of incompetents, led by then-National Security Advisor Dr. Rice, who acknowledged to the 9-11 Commission having received a CIA briefing entitled, "Bin Laden Determined to Attack Inside the United States" which she never discussed with the President.
After September 11, Mr. Bush attacked Afghanistan with as close to universal support as any President will ever have on any issue. But he was already looking for a pretext to invade Iraq. He arrived in office with a determination to attack and remove Saddam Hussein. Bin Laden's attacks became the cover he had so desperately been seeking. And in claiming the fantasy linkage between Bin Laden and Hussein, and continuing to promulgate that idea after it had been shown to be a complete and total fabrication, Mr. Bush played more into Bin Laden's hands than if our War President had offered to fund the next Al Qaeda operation. The ongoing debacle in Iraq has accomplished nothing except to kill more Americans than died on September 11, 2001, and enough Iraqis-most of them who hated Saddam Hussein and had suffered under his rule-to ensure that my grandchildren and their grandchildren will have to worry about terrorist attacks throughout their lives.
The great Christians at the helm of our country knew how to deal with their enemies within, as well. Mr. Bush's underlings exposed a CIA operative who happened to be married to an honest man. When Joe Wilson refused to march in lock-step on the created out of whole cloth effort of Saddam to buy nuclear materials in Africa, they tried to get his wife, Valerie Plame, killed. They have called anyone who disagrees with them unpatriotic. They have told the world, "You're either with us, or you're with the terrorists." Dennis Hastert actually blamed Bill Clinton for his problems that arose from protecting the would-be pedophile, Mark Foley. Mr. Speaker, can't you come up with anything more original? This kind of revenge seeking, name calling and hyperbolic tough-guy language is very familiar. It comes directly from the cowboy stories and movies that most American men grew up on. It has no place in grown up life. It is childish. It is foolhardy. It is what is meant by the old Texas phrase, "All hat and no cattle." And it demonstrates no knowledge of, or commitment to, Jesus Christ.
When we allow the occupation of the Oval Office by a person who claims that God chose him to be President at this crucial time to deal with these great issues, we get what we deserve. This administration has made gay marriage an issue, while they have prevented the photographing of the flag-draped coffins of our dead children coming home from the only war that we have ever started. They have wrecked our nation at every point available to them, and they believe that they have done it in the name of God. They are, indeed, the American equivalent of the Taliban.
Now, they warn the public that if the Democrats come to control the Congress, Bin Laden will be invited to parade down Pennsylvania Avenue. They cannot run on their record, and they know it. So they trot out the only option available to them: they try to scare us all over again. The terrorism alert level will certainly be raised before Election Day. Another attack will miraculously be prevented at the last second. The fears of Americans will continue to be manipulated, strictly for political gain. As will the gas prices, which will continue to fall until we have voted.
Mr. Bush was once asked at a Press Conference if he had made any mistakes as President. He could not think of a single one. Sir, you just haven't been paying attention. His entire presidency has been a mistake. And if we choose to continue to supply him with the lapdog Congress that he has enjoyed for six years, then, again, we get what we deserve!
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