The Voice of Treason

Sometimes a person gets tired of eating his or her own cooking and needs a change. After I visited my mother on Sunday, I stopped at a little dive that serves New York style pizzas and subs. I sat at a corner table while I waited for the to-go order and looked at the pictures on the wall. There was a large framed photo of two towers on fire.

Years ago, when T and I were in New York, we almost didn’t make it down to the World Trade Center. There was so much to see and do, but we made it to Wall Street and surrounding areas on a quiet Sunday. We have photos of us in front of the towers, looking fat from a week of eating at Carnegie Deli almost exclusively.

There are so many films that have the obligatory shots of the New York skyline, the towers always looming over the rest of Lower Manhattan. I see them and it’s that Tuesday morning all over again.

It’s like whenever I see Dianne Feinstein. It’s November 1978 again, Milk and Moscone are dead, and Di is suddenly mayor. The woman has had a long relationship with her fellow Californians and her bank account is huge. Now Cindy Sheehan has announced that Di needs to go. She plans to run against her for the Senate.

No offense, but may I ask to see Mrs. Sheehan’s credentials? She lost her son, she’s angry, and she wants something good to come from her loss. I’m reminded of Debra Burlingame, who lost her brother, Charles - a pilot - on September 11. She, too, is angry. But her emotions have taken her on a much different path.

“Anger can be very, very productive, as long as it’s focused and you don’t lose your mind. After the London bombings, someone asked me, ‘Have we become complacent? Do you miss 9/11, when people had more unity?’ And I say, ‘No, no, no. What I miss is the anger. And the clarity. That’s what I miss.’ “

Me, too, Deb.

I’d written awhile back about the experience I had at the company I worked for - a story about how my boss reacted to September 11. Just one reason I don’t mind that I don’t work there anymore. (For more details, see 7/16/05.)

Once she realized that everyone else was genuinely concerned and upset, and the attack on the WTC was the center of attention and she wasn’t, she called a meeting of her underlings to discuss some project. Then, teary-eyed, lip-trembling, she revealed how she, personally, had been touched by this tragedy.

Her friend in New York had been affected - either she knew someone who worked at the WTC, knew someone who lived near there, knew someone who had heard of the WTC, or she had had a flight delayed because of what happened at the WTC. I can’t remember the details because once I realized I was hearing something that made it even clearer that she had utterly missed the significance of September 11, I went numb and stopped listening. The rest of us witnessed the horror and knew life would never be the same. Some went on, their lives unchanged, but others were knocked completely off track - altered forever.

Her statement about how it affected her personally reminded me of actors who, preparing for a role, spend a few weeks learning what it’s like to wait tables at a truck stop. Or maybe they spent time in the Third World. They are now experts on the real world. They’ve seen it, smelled it, felt it. They are forever changed. They say they feel that they’re “in touch” with other people’s lives.

So when I heard ABC’s David Westin say that it was Bob Woodruff’s injuries that suddenly made the whole Iraq War “real,” I was offended. So now that it’s touched his world, it’s real. Um, it’s been real. In real life, war is real. Crime is real. Dogs are tortured by gangs of teenage boys; little girls are raped and buried alive; babies are shot in the stomach and left to die a slow death; others are placed in plastic bags and tossed into lakes; the rest are neglected, starved, smothered, or drowned by women who call themselves mothers. It’s the stuff journalists report on every day, and it’s just becoming real now?

It’s all out there and it touches the rest of us daily. I invite Mr. Westin and his circle to experience it. Come. Join us. See what it’s like here. Come feel “real.” It’s not such a great place to visit, which explains why none of you actually live here.

Q: What do you call the 60+ reporters who have been killed since the beginning of the Iraq War?

A: A good start.

It’s an old joke, usually told about lawyers, but journalists are dangerously close to replacing attorneys as the most hated professionals. It used to be that we disliked them for being so out of touch with the rest of society, or for intentionally trying to manipulate, not inform, us. Their liberal bias, their attitude that they’re smarter, better than the rest of us…well, it’s the same reason we can’t stand John Kerry.

But the reasons are multiplying and there are some things that even the other side is starting to hate. Their hair, their clothes, their accessories, their layers of lip gloss. Their need to be the center of attention - their need to be the story.

It was especially obvious during Katrina. Why have a cameraman with you when all he does is point the camera at you to get your impressions, your feelings, your interpretation of events? Just show us the freaking events!

There was a time we just saw talking heads - now these heads are full blown celebs and we know everything about them: where they went to school, who they married, what their kids did at camp, their hobbies, their opinions, their innermost thoughts. Instead of getting right to the story, there’s always that banter:

“Hey, Bob, how’s it hangin’?”

“Just great, Greg. How’s it hangin’ back at the studio?”

“It’s hangin’. Definitely hangin’. Got anything to tell us?”

“Thought I’d mention my new CD.”

“Very cool, Bob. I hear it’s your new Christmas CD.”

“Sure is.”

“Can you give us a little preview?”

“Sure can. But first let me get this bit of info out of the way. The Prime Minister of Oogli Boogli has just been assassinated by a band of hooded assailants. Did I mention it’s a double CD?”

Yeah, yeah, I know I complained bitterly about the reporters during all the hurricane coverage, but it seems they’re getting worse. They ask dumb questions at press conferences, don’t listen to anybody else’s questions, then ask the same questions again. And they’re making up words. One at the last Bush press conference said “conversated.” And they say Bush has problems with English?

Okay, maybe I’m being harsh. After all, Bob Woodruff was just wounded and is in serious condition. I don’t mean to diminish the efforts of reporters and cameramen who are out there getting shot at. But I think it would be a good idea, since they’re so willing to divulge personal information whenever we see them, to start identifying their party affiliation - or at least who they voted for in the last election. If we ask them for that, maybe they’ll shut up and just give us the news.

Word on the street is that John Filibuster Kerry is gearing up for the 2008 presidential election. “Gearing up,” when you’re talking about Senator Kerry, usually means he’ll be adding a few new pieces to his wardrobe. I suggest he avoid mustard colored Timberland parkas. (Note to Dems: No earth tones. Algore! You listening?)

Wardrobe aside, Kerry’s already off to a rocky start. When word leaked that he was considering another run, Americans figured he’d be in the news to remind us that he, despite his cold gray appearance, is still very much alive. So what did he do? He came out to warn us about that evil Sam Alito who will single-handedly turn back the clock on our civil liberties. If confirmed, we will again see signs for “colored only” drinking fountains and women and minorities will once more be under the boot of rich white men. Oh, like John Kerry?

His first mistake was to call for his fellow Democrats to filibuster; his second was to do it from a five-star resort in the Swiss Alps. Has he learned nothing from the last election? It was Kerry, along with other Democrats, who criticized Bush for not being a world traveler. Mon dieu, they snorted, the man has never even been out of the country! How can he be leader of the free world if he hasn’t even seen it?

Bush admitted that he hadn’t been out of the country much, but his attitude was conspicuous: why leave the greatest place on the planet? The average American understood immediately. If only the Democrats could. Adlai Stevenson, Eugene McCarthy, George McGovern, Al Gore, John Kerry. The party needs to stop looking at their losers and concentrate on the candidates who actually won: Carter and Clinton. And I’m not talkin’ Hillary.

Yesterday was an important day in history, but if you were watching the news you might have missed that. President Bush conducted a press conference, but few people know why or what was said. They do know that a camera came loose during the event and dangled precariously over the heads of reporters. And they know that Oprah got upset.

After encouraging her fans to run out and buy James Frey’s book to help it become a bestseller and, after calling Larry King when the ensuing “scandal” associated with the work broke to say that it shouldn’t matter because it was still a good read, Oprah has suddenly put it reverse and altered her story. Frey was back on her show and she confronted him, wanting to know why he lied to her. She had been…duped. Duped. Gee, where have I heard that before?

Oh, yeah! Hillary just said recently that she’d been duped, too. The world’s most brilliant woman, duped by the world’s dumbest cowboy: George W. Bush. How is that possible? But then you have to remember Bill. Like Oprah, Hillary was quick to defend her man. And then in her memoirs she wanted to know why, why had he done this to her?

Another woman scorned, Maureen Dowd, was on MSNBC last night to complain about those liars, Bush and Cheney. When Bill Clinton’s name came up, she explained that what Bill did was different. Those were little lies and, because he wasn’t a good liar, he gave us little clues that he was…well, not lying, but not telling the whole truth. It was “poignant,” she said. Endearing. Charming.

Really? Proof that no matter how brilliant, how well-educated, how wealthy, successful, influential, or powerful a woman is, she is still going to be duped by a man. Gosh, maybe my Democratic friend knows what he’s talking about when he says America won’t vote a woman into the Oval Office.

Go ahead and add Cindy Sheehan to that “woman as victim” list. Oh, poor Hillary. Bill humiliated her - after all she’s done for him. Oh, poor Oprah. Betrayed. Poor Maureen - men just keep deceiving and disappointing her. Stop your sobbin’ - I’m not buyin’ what you’re sellin’, sister.

The whining and hand-wringing is just so unbecoming. I’d just settled in to watch Molly Ivins on why she won’t support Hillary in 2008 (yeah, sure, Mol) because she dodges and weaves. Huh? She and her co-President have made their careers doing that - now it’s suddenly an issue? Puh-leez. But I never got to hear Molly because C-SPAN decided to switch to a live conference with Families USA. Ugh, more women, and they were there to do one thing: whine about Wal-Mart. Say, did you know that millions of women are raped and murdered in Wal-Mart parking lots and Wal-Mart just doesn’t care? Wal-Mart hates women. It would explain why so many flocked to the new store outside of Chicago to apply for jobs there. Girls just want to be abused, I guess.

Makes me want to run out and buy Kate O’Beirne’s new book: Women Who Make the World Worse and How Their Radical Feminist Assault Is Ruining Our Schools, Families, Military, and Sports. I like Kate - she’s no whiner. National Review was kind enough to include a piece of the book in the current issue; it’s the part that discusses the myth of “fifty-nine cents for every dollar.” Women have complained for years that they do the same jobs and make less than men. O’Beirne lays out why this is simply not accurate. There are many reasons, but a few stand out. For instance, if this is a true statement, how is it that a man can find a job in this country? Most of the companies I know are always eager to pay an employee as little as possible, so if women are that big a bargain, why hire men at all? Shoot, they cost too much, the brutes. Another is that women choose the wrong majors. Okay, wrong isn’t the correct word for it, so let’s just say men choose more “marketable” majors.

Oh, is that whining I hear? Okay, let me give you an example of what I’m talking about. Allow me to play the victim. I studied unmarketable fields at a tiny university that was virtually unknown outside academic circles. I chose the campus because the area was just so pretty! There were trees and rain and fog and wonderful Victorian houses. I’ve managed to hold jobs in which I was both paid less than my male counterparts and paid more. Just different circumstances. When I got tired of making a moderate salary in a “creative” atmosphere, I turned to high tech. It made sense since I was living in Silicon Valley.

I applied for a job in an industry I knew nothing about. After extensive pre-employment testing and interviewing by several male engineers, I was certain that my performance had disqualified me. Yet these men, despite my lack of technical knowledge, gave me an opportunity. When I asked how it was possible that I was hired I was told they “liked the way my mind worked.” In a few months I was promoted to a lead position and eventually became a supervisor. In meetings I was usually the only woman in the room. I was paid less than some of the male supervisors, and I was paid more than some others. Different circumstances.

Could I have had the top rung of the corporate ladder? No! No, a thousand times, no! Why? Because of events that were totally out of my control. It all started in elementary school, you see. The Chicago public school system hired teachers who assigned students to seats according to height and by the first letter of a student’s last name. I was tall and my name was towards the end of the alphabet. I was always put near the back of the room.

It all started there. I couldn’t see the board. The teacher would write math problems on it and ask us to copy and solve them. I couldn’t see the numbers, but my classmates - nurturing, caring, sensitive little girls - whispered numbers and I wrote them down. My math skills were fine, but I always failed the tests. Turns out the little girls were giving me made-up numbers. How cute and creative they were!

Once I discovered this, I talked to my teacher and explained that I couldn’t see the board. My classmates gave me the problems, but the numbers weren’t accurate. If she checked the math, she’d see that my answers were correct. She told me she wouldn’t - she was too busy and couldn’t be bothered. Her advice: Get glasses.

Why, that would require time and money. My mother, who always had perfect vision, simply could not understand why my siblings and I were so blind. Our myopia was clearly my father’s fault - she could see, my father was paralyzed without glasses. Two of my sisters were treated shabbily because they “took after” my father. They looked like him and his family, English and Dutch. Why, they just didn’t look Italian.

Teachers wondered why girls with genius IQs weren’t doing well in class. Well, they couldn’t see, either. If a book or paper was right in their faces, they were fine. Naturally, we all excelled in any subject that required reading. If we could hold a book, fine. If it was on a board…problem.

Glasses were not a priority. My mother was more concerned with rent, food, clothes. Hmmm, perhaps she should have chosen to mate with someone who had better vision. So, let’s analyze. If I had had a better start in math, I would have been more interested in engineering, medicine, science, architecture, computers. Instead, I drifted into studying the non-marketables. I was a victim of the women I was surrounded by: nasty little girls, indifferent teachers, and a mother who resented any traits her children didn’t inherit from her.

My mother, my teachers, my little schoolmates. They shoulda looked out for me a little bit. They shoulda taken care of me - just a little bit. You don’t understand! I coulda had class. I coulda been a contenda. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am. Let’s face it… it was women. It was women.

It has nothing to do with choices I’ve made. It’s simply not my fault, don’t you see?

“My, my. Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains.”

– Humphrey Bogart (as Philip Marlowe); The Big Sleep, 1946

T walked into the room and looked at the TV screen. “Looks like St. Patrick’s Day.” Ironic, since there’s nothing lucky about this. Or is there? I’m all for Reagan optimism, but Reagan was also realistic. I keep thinking about what I said the other day about the local gay activist who likes to say that what first seems good sometimes is bad, and what at first seems bad can sometimes turn out to be good. Have a feeling sometimes that George Bush looks at the world the same way.

I watched the press conference this morning. When asked about the election results, he praised democracy. Well, he kinda has to, doesn’t he? If that’s the objective in the Middle East - to spread liberty and democracy - then free elections are a good thing. Right? He explained how well democracy can work because people will tell you what they think of you. What the people had wasn’t working, Fatah was corrupt, so people voted for a group of terrorists who are committed to wiping their neighbor off the planet.

It’s kinda like Americans voting for Jimmy Carter after voting twice for Nixon. Democracy isn’t perfect but it does tend to work itself out. Like Americans voting for Reagan - twice - after voting for Carter. The electorate is a strange breed. But Americans might just be in the mood again for change. And change is usually a good thing when the time is right. This is not a particularly good time to be changing just for the sake of change. Anti-Semites and Israel haters are calling in to C-SPAN daily, Iran’s got a major whack job in office, and Hamas is running the show next door.

Hitler was elected, wasn’t he? Germans were desperate and that genocidal Austrian looked like he could fix their problems. Like Jimmy Carter. On the surface, Carter looked like the answer to Nixon. In fact, in the current issue of National Review, John Derbyshire - in reviewing Carter’s new book - offers one of the best explanations of Carter I’ve ever read. He expresses guilt over his loathing of the man; after all, Carter is “a very American figure” - a “combination of dogged industriousness, earnest religiosity, public spirit, and shameless self-promotion.” He admits there’s something there to admire: Carter “served his country, in the military and in public life, …practiced business, …claims adherence to a studious and generous style of Christian belief” and “his private life has been spotless, his administration down at the low end of the corruption scale.” On the surface, then, Carter seems damn near perfect. But that’s when Derbyshire nails it. Carter is like “the purest breed of dog, with all the ‘points’ perfectly developed,” but is still “sickly and ill-tempered in personality.” The result, as I’ve said before, is a bitter little man who still can’t get over 1980. As Derbyshire says, he’s “a nasty piece of work.”

But as bad a president as Carter was, some good came out of his administration: the realization that America needed to get out and vote for a real president. So what good can come out of yesterday’s election?

“In Italy, for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed, but they also produced Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love, they had five hundred years of democracy and peace - and what did they produce? The cuckoo clock.”

– Orson Welles (as Harry Lime); The Third Man, 1949

Yes, but those were the Italians. The Palestinians are another story. Hamas is, essentially, Iran. How ’bout that Charter? The American elite can spin this anyway they want and call these people humanitarians, but their Charter is clear:

“Israel will exist and will continue to exist until Islam will obliterate it, just as it obliterated others before it.”

“There is no solution for the Palestinian question except through Jihad. Initiatives, proposals and international conferences are all a waste of time and vain endeavors.”

“The Zionist invasion is a vicious invasion… It relies greatly in its infiltration and espionage operations on the secret organizations it gave rise to, such as the Freemasons, The Rotary and Lions clubs, and other sabotage groups. All these organizations, whether secret or open, work in the interest of Zionism and according to its instructions…”

They are the big, bad wolf huffing and puffing at the door. A brick house is required in order to survive. Peace through strength, says Netanyahu.

I hate to say it, but as bad as Sharon in a coma seems, maybe it’s a good thing. He should be spared this, but now someone has to come in and clean up the mess. Elections are coming up. Could Netanyahu be the one?

Israelis were polled and it appears that many, desperate for peace, would be willing to work with Hamas. I say to the Jewish people: think very carefully before you board that train.

Funny, I’d just mentioned my Democrat friend who explained to me that Hillary would never win the top job (see 1/23/06). Well, a new poll reveals that Americans aren’t prepared to vote for her, after all. Sorry, I don’t live and die by polls. I say she’ll run and she can win. (There are still unlimited dead people who will vote for the Democratic candidate.)

Well, that Dem friend of mine happened to be at the house last Sunday. I was watching FOX News and he was coming back into the room when he saw John McCain on the screen.

“Oh! My favorite Republican!” He looked at me. “I bet he’s your least favorite, huh?”

“No. Not least favorite. There are others.”

But my friend echoes the sentiments of others in his party. Another recent poll reveals that Dems like McCain. I don’t dislike him - although there’s plenty about his personality to dislike - but I’d prefer it if he didn’t run for president. Would I vote for him? Tough call. If he was running against Hillary? Hmmmm. Let me mull this over.

You know, I’ve tried to like Hillary (I’m generally partial to fellow Chicagoans), but there are too many things about her that make me bristle.

1. She’s shrill.
2. She’s a Socialist.
3. She married Bill.
4. She’s still married to Bill.
5. She doesn’t understand how baseball works.

Hillary called herself a Cubs fan. At Wrigley Field, a Cubs jacket was passed around inside the Cubs dugout to be signed for the visiting Clinton, but players weren’t scrambling for the Sharpie. It was reported that one Cub remarked:

“If her husband lowers my taxes, I’ll sign the jacket.”

Time passed, and this Chicago Cubs fan was running for a Senate seat in New York. Suddenly she was seen wearing a Yankees cap. Smart. A Mets cap would have been an error in judgment. Now I understand Hillary’s thinking. A Cubs fan is a National League fan. To pledge allegiance to the Mets is against all laws of baseball. The ‘69 Cubs were my team, so trust me on this one. If a fan wants to choose an American League team to support, it can’t be the White Sox. For years this was a non-issue because Chicagoans were secure in the knowledge that neither the Cubs nor the Sox would get to the World Series.

That all changed last fall. Clouded by the confusion of actually winning, Chicagoans were torn. Do Cubs fans support the Sox? Bill Murray said yes, because you’re supporting the city of Chicago. Die-hards couldn’t do it. North versus South. Even if they were pleased to see the Sox win (if they can do it, maybe there’s hope for the Northsiders), they weren’t noisy about it. A simple “they played well and deserved the victory” was acceptable. And it was the truth.

So some Cub fans might call themselves Yankees fans. It’s odd, but it happens. Hillary was suddenly a Yankees fan. Her mistake was saying that she’d always been one. It just didn’t seem genuine. You see Rudy Giuliani in a Yankees cap and you don’t question his devotion. Hillary’s another story.

But who cares? Baseball is dead in America. Americans love football. I’ve tried to ignite an interest in the game and I just can’t muster the enthusiasm. It doesn’t make sense to me. Baseball makes sense to me. It’s like geometry and algebra. Geometry makes sense because it’s something I can use. Algebra is foreign, strange, abstract. Like football.

Condi Rice understands football. She loves it. Her dream job is NFL Commissioner. She can talk about the game and she knows who’s who. Senator George Allen knows a little something about the game, too. Advice to Hillary: Find a new cap.

O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee…

Makes you miss Montreal Expos games, huh? I have to ask: How often do you notice people wanting to say “country” but they say “company” instead? And sometimes they want to say “company” and say “country.” I hear it all the time. And I also hear “Canadia” a lot. You know, that enormous land mass just north of here? Canadia. It’s where Canadians live.

Well, for three years I worked with someone I adored, a Montreal boy who, when the non-profit betrayed its loyal employees, returned to Canadia - er, Canada. I miss his wonderful stories and impressions of Newfoundlanders. I do love dialects. Ay.

Anyway, he and his partner left back in August and headed to Nova Scotia. My friend was a self-proclaimed Socialist, but we got along because he could discuss politics with me without calling me a Nazi. Refreshing.

We’ve temporarily lost touch (I really need to track him down) and I regret that because I’d love to get his take on this week’s election results. If I read them correctly, Nova Scotia did not go as far to the right as the western portion of Canada. That’s because the western portion is, technically, America. And I also want to know if he and his partner have officially married.

I know, now that Stephen “Integrity, family, respect for work, achievement - Canada strong and free!” Harper has won the election, some will claim that he’ll start rounding up homosexuals to put them in camps. Something tells me that this just isn’t going to happen anytime soon. The man has more pressing issues to address. Taxes, for one. Crime, drugs, gangs. Those long, long, looooong waits for medical attention.

Another couple I met through the non-profit did marry. They went to Canadia - er, Canada, and tied the knot. When they got back, they rented a theater and had a formal ceremony. I was flattered to receive an invitation. I hate weddings, in general, but this one was a carefully planned wedding/reception/drag revue combo that had me intrigued. Say what you will, but the event was more tasteful that most of the heterosexual ceremonies I’ve attended.

It was a tad militant in places, but overall it was sweet, sincere, romantic, and creative. So do I support gay marriage? I find myself touched when I read the anniversary section of our Sunday paper. Couples who have been married for twenty-five, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy-five (!) years. Imagine being with someone special through history.

As a fiscal conservative, I see gay weddings as a good thing for our economy. But I also understand the hesitation to make gay marriage the law of the land. Slippery slope and all that. Next thing you know, someone will want to marry a dolphin. Oh, wait. That just happened. And where’s PETA? If that’s not animal cruelty, I don’t know what is.

I support civil unions. I understand the desire to have certain legal protections in place for longtime companions. I have one of those myself, but my companion happens to be a member of the opposite sex. When our non-profit was reviewing our health insurance, gay employees wanted to know if they could get coverage for domestic partners. The answer was yes. Ooooh. That’s very cool, because T left a corporation to develop a home business. Could he get coverage? The answer was no. If he had ovaries, yes.

Well, this didn’t sit well. Some pointed out that we could get married and solve that problem; after all, we are allowed by law to do that. Others were outraged: Why can we add our partners, and you can’t? Why, that’s discrimination!

We live in interesting times. Again, I think it should be put to a vote. Let the people - state by state - decide. Funny, but my state was one that announced all of a sudden that it recognized gay marriage. Since I always had talk radio on in my office, I heard that ceremonies were happening not far from us. Hey! You guys can all get married today! Go! Go! Just go do it!

There was initial excitement, but no one left the office. All I’m saying is this: Be careful what you wish for. A local gay activist who walks around town in something that looks like a mini loincloth and has an extensive religious background, reminds us that what looks good at first can sometimes be bad and what looks bad can sometimes be good.

There is definitely something to that.

1. Disturbing news

For years I’ve wondered why so few people share my birthday. I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who was born on the same day, but several people - and dogs - close to me were born within days of that date. I’d see lists of “Famous People Who Share Your Birthday” and I’d always see Christopher Wren. Just Christopher Wren. Years passed and the list grew to include Mickey Mantle and Arlene Francis. Then Bela Lugosi. Arthur Rimbaud. Jerry Orbach. I understand Tom Petty and Viggo Mortensen are on the list, too. Well, I just heard that I share my birthday with Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. I don’t know why, but for some reason that just rubbed me the wrong way. It got me thinking: What other psycho, murderous fanatics share that date?

I surfed for information (I urge everyone to see what happened on their birthdate in history or at least what was going on the year they were born) and I actually found a long list of names. Good God. Heinrich Himmler? I was skeptical. So I double checked a few and discovered that Michael Dunn (love him), Margaret Dumont, and John Dewey were, indeed, born on my birthday. However, Martin Landau, Herschel Bernardi, Connie Chung, and Himmler were not. But, alas, Snoop Dogg was.

2. PBS doesn’t suck totally

Every now and then there’s something interesting to watch so I can’t write off public television completely. I set aside some time for American Experience this week - I wanted to catch the story of John and Abigail Adams. It always struck me as odd that feminists held up Eleanor Roosevelt as their great heroine. What about Abigail Adams? I’ve always been partial to the Adamses, and Abigail is as fascinating a historical figure as her husband. What a pair. Just one reason the American Revolution is one of the most exciting and dramatic periods in world history. Hollywood could never concoct as great a story.

3. Bush unscripted - again

The President spoke at Kansas State University and although the Left will pick this one apart, those who support Bush are just reminded why they voted for him. Sure, he stumbled a few times and rambled a little, but he was comfortable, funny, spontaneous, and charming.

“You know, it’s amazing, when people say to me, well, he was just breaking the law — if I wanted to break the law, why was I briefing Congress?”

“And then there’s my man, Barney, a little Scottish terrier. I say this — and Laura will be furious at me — he’s the son I never had, you know?”

“I believe in what I’m doing. And I understand politics, and it can get rough. I read a lot of history, by the way, and Abraham Lincoln had it rough. I’m not comparing myself to Abraham Lincoln, nor should you think just because I mentioned his name in the context of my presidency — I would never do that. He was a great President. But, boy, they mistreated him. He did what he thought was right.”

“I don’t think you’re too busy for things that are important in your life, and you can figure out ways to make time in your life. And so I’m the kind of guy — I’m not running too well these days; I’m not running hardly at all. It’s kind of like my knees are like tires, you know, and they’re bald.”

“First of all, Laura pays attention to what’s going on. And so she offers her advice. And it’s sound advice…down-to-earth, no airs, common-sense point of view. And so I appreciate very much when she does give me her advice, which can be too frequent sometimes…It’s like the time — she tells the story about the time when I was running for Congress in 1978 in West Texas, and she criticized one of my speeches. And I ran into the garage door. But the best — I guess the best way to describe it is, one, I value her judgment, and I know it comes from her heart. And I appreciate the perspective she brings. Common sense is just a very important part of being a decision-maker. There is something reassuring to me when I get advice from somebody who’s got the best interests in mind, got my best interest in mind, as well as just this kind of down-to-earth read on the situation. And that’s how I view my advice from Laura…And so we’ve got a great relationship. You know, when I married her, she really didn’t like politics, didn’t care particularly for politicians either. And here she is the First Lady of the United States. And she is good. Boy, I tell you, she’s — when she speaks, she’s very credible because she’s a decent, credible person. And I love her a lot.”

Instead of criticizing, Democrats should take note. I believe the average American would enjoy watching a ballgame and munching a hot dog with Dubya. Going to the ballpark with Algore, John Kerry, or even Hillary would just not be as fun. As much as I dislike Bill Clinton, I could probably watch a game and have a few beers and dogs with the man.

I’m trying to come up with a 2008 Democrat candidate who’s as comfortable with him or herself as Bill and I can’t. Hopefully the party won’t be able to, either.

4. And speaking of presidents

Frankly, when I heard that Gerald Ford was in the hospital with pneumonia, I moaned. I’ve written here about how pneumonia (”You can cheat Death, but you can’t cheat Pneumonia,” 5/27/05), and I can’t help think that as strong as Ford is (athletic and fit like Reagan), this illness is going to help escort him to the other side. I dread that report.

5. And speaking of presidents again

I caught a little of Michael Medved’s interview with Leonard Steinhorn, author of The Greater Generation: In Defense of the Baby Boom Legacy. Don’t get me started.

6. And speaking of presidents AGAIN

I was having a few beers with a couple Democrat friends recently and I mentioned something about their party being so quick to criticize the power of the Executive, and how they might not be so quick to limit a president once Hillary’s elected.

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“Sure it will. Everything they’re saying now will be reversed once Hillary is president.”

“Hillary won’t be president.”

“Sure she will.”

“No way.”

“You’re telling me that Hillary won’t be elected in 2008?”

“Yup.”

“Why is that?”

“America isn’t ready for a female president. It’s just not going to happen.”

“I’m ready for a female president. A Maggie Thatcher or a Condi Rice.”

“That won’t happen, either. Americans won’t elect a black candidate.”

“Sure they will.”

“Nope. No way. Even if a woman or an African-American were elected, they’d be assassinated. They’d be killed in office. No question.”

This coming from a Democrat? Hmmmm. This theory only makes 2008 more intriguing. I had a vision this week: Condi, in red, debating Hillary.

“Senator, could you please explain to me and the rest of America, precisely what you meant by plantation?”

I’m sure Dick Morris had the same vision and salivated.

Yesterday, a few hours after we learned that the Thames whale had expired, we heard that two more West Virginians had died in a coal mine. Ironically, the Melville mine. (Think Moby-Dick.)

That brings the total of dead West Virginia miners to fourteen. Locals are, understandably, mourning the loss of friends and relatives, but they are also realistic about the hazards. A retired miner reveals that, after a while, they accept the risks and return to the mines after such disasters. “It’s like accidents in cars — you see them, but you still drive. It’s the same in a coal mine.”

Given the choice, I’d rather be a miner in West Virginia than one in China. Despite government measures to improve work safety — including a national surveillance system to monitor conditions and millions of dollars earmarked to help state-owned and small local mines address gas explosion prevention — mining in China is damn near a death sentence. The average coal miner in China produces a fraction of what a miner in America or South Africa produces, yet the death rate for every 100 tons of Chinese coal is 100 times that of U.S. and 30 times that of South African.

If a Chinese miner doesn’t die in a mine, chances are he’ll drop from pneumoconiosis. According to 2003 statistics, about 600,000 miners to date were suffering from lung disease and the figure was increasing by 70,000 miners every year. Mine accidents in China killed 1,113 people in the first three months of 2004. Where are the Congressional hearings?

Nobody ever said that digging down to the center of the earth was prudent. Perhaps it’s time for another look at nuclear power. Or we can just accept that miners are going to die, no matter how much money is thrown at safety measures. Why? Because it’ll never be safe down there.

Frankly, it’s not that safe up here. Jobs kill people. Driving to jobs kills people. Driving kills people. An 81 year-old man in Michigan just died because a dog, avoiding a car, fell off an overpass and crashed through the old man’s windshield. Deer do that all the time. Why isn’t the government enforcing leash laws? If that dog had been on a leash, attached to its owner, it probably wouldn’t have killed an innocent man. And those deer - just running amok - targeting drivers. And don’t get me started about elk. We were almost killed on a road in Arizona by one of those dangerous elk. Senator McCain, what are you going to do about Arizona’s elk problem? Arizona drivers and innocent tourists just aren’t safe. Should we just boycott this deadly state?

There are hazards everywhere. Americans are at risk. Where is my government-appointed bodyguard? It’s not just West Virginia, either. We have mine safety issues right here in my state. Why, just hours after the report about the Melville miners, I saw a story on the local news that made my blood run cold. A man was walking through one of our national forests with his two Jack Russell terriers. (Actually they’re not called that anymore - the AKC recognizes the breed as the Parson Russell - but everyone knows that’s Jack’d.) Anyway, his dogs were off leash and could have been attacked by marauding deer but, instead, one fell into an abandoned mine. Yes! A mine! The dog fell down, down, down - maybe more than 100 feet! The owner, assuming the worst, fashioned a plaque to remember his little terrier, and called it a day. Well, jackass, don’t you know your breed?

The dog was alive at the bottom of the mine and was rescued after two days. He had surgery, and is recovering. He should be good as new in a few days. Why? Because he’s a freaking Jack Russell terrier! Don’t you remember Mugsy in the Timex ad?

We Americans could learn a thing or two from this breed.