Posted on 07/07/2002 7:47:12 AM PDT by areafiftyone
New England Thunderstorms Last Wednesday, the second day of a three-day trip to Boston, I swallowed hard and took my impressionable boys on a tough-love tour of Harvard’s campus. Mrs. M wanted to scour the excellent array of nearby bookstores, and the kids had prioritized Newbury Comics on their own to-do list, so it wasn’t as if there weren’t bennies during the excursion. When it’s time for college applications, my wife and I won’t impose our own prejudices on their final decisions. There are too many factors to consider, such as grades, geography and ever-changing extracurricular requirements that admissions officers with too much time on their hands concoct each year. Could be they’ll wind up at Dartmouth or Rice; perhaps Iowa’s East Cupcake University; or maybe they’ll ditch further schooling altogether. But I did want Junior and MUGGER III to take a peek at the country’s most famous university, and just as I imagined, Harvard Yard’s trees and phone booths were plastered with fliers demanding the administration divest its financial interests in Israel and announcements of upcoming "solidarity with Palestine" events. A disgraceful sight, far worse than the jejune spectacle in 2001 of students occupying a building to protest the lack of a "living wage" for cafeteria workers, janitors and assorted clerks. You’d think that these elite young men and women might concentrate more on the poetry of Robert Browning or the rivalry between Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, but they’re clever enough to realize that a Harvard diploma is a passport to the professional worlds of business, journalism, science and politics, even if they can’t currently identify the secretary of defense. A June 30 Boston Globe article, however, marking Lawrence Summers’ first year as Harvard’s president, was encouraging. Patrick Healy wrote: "Some of [Summers’] moves, such as his patriotic speeches and his pointed encounters with faculty, most notably Cornel West, have alienated some professors and staff members who say he does not respect the character and decorum of Harvard." Considering Summers’ tenure in the Clinton administration, this is cause for hope: Perhaps in nine years, the academic world will be further turned upside down and Ralph Reed might succeed Summers and reign as Cambridge’s First Citizen. Although the centerpiece of the short trip was two games at Fenway Park, the boys endured a tour of the lovely and idiosyncratic Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, a mansion, with a stunning courtyard, filled with Old Master paintings, Asian textiles and busts, original letters written by George Washington, James Monroe, Benjamin Franklin and Teddy Roosevelt, to name just a few. Mrs. M could’ve spent an entire day at the palace, despite security guards who were the most severe I’ve ever seen at a museum, including those in Germany. Not surprisingly, the kids were only mildly interested, fidgeting and sneaking a touch or two of an ancient Roman sarcophagus and trying, without success, to move their mom from room to room at breakneck speed. As usual, the traffic in Boston was horrendous, not only because of the interminable Big Dig construction, but because of the worst drivers in North America. One thing that’s changed, however, since our last visit two years ago, is the increasing number of cabbies who have no sense of direction, take "shortcuts" to jack up fares and often don’t know where the most obvious landmarks are located. We stayed at the Four Seasons, a splendid hotel that overlooks Boston’s Public Garden, and even though its prominent address of 200 Boylston St. is the equivalent of say, the Carlyle’s in Manhattan, one bum circled round and round city blocks before he could locate the destination. He ignored my instructions, gabbed on a cellphone and finally turned off the meter when the steam coming out of my ears curled his greasy locks of hair. Don’t mistake this for a Pat Buchanan rant: As I’ve written on numerous occasions, the economic and cultural progress of the United States depends on a liberal immigration policy, but shifty and lazy workers are blights on any city. We watched the first Red Sox-Indians game on the tube Tuesday night, and though Boston’s anemic offense led to another frustrating loss, it was reassuring to see Manny Ramirez back in the lineup. And what a pleasure to hear Jerry Remy’s Fox play-by-play instead of the hyperactive Michael Kay on George Steinbrenner’s YES channel in New York. The next night, as we watched from grandstand seats, Pedro Martinez was down 4-0 until the Sox exploded for six runs, including a rare Brian Daubach hit and a bases-clearing triple by the team’s MVP so far, Johnny Damon. (That Damon was snubbed by Joe Torre for the All-Star exhibition next week is baffling.) Junior and I were hoarse by the end of the contest, a 7-4 victory, cheering Pedro, Damon, Jason Varitek and Nomar Garciaparra, while booing Mr. Double Play, Jose Offerman, a washed-up player whom Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy accurately referred to as a "piece of junk." On Thursday night, the four of us waited out a 6 p.m. thunderstorm by the concession stands, convinced that the game would eventually be played. I’m as much a devotee of Fenway as is the next Sox fan, but it really is time to replace the 1912 ballpark. Let alone that sections of the stadium could collapse without warning, the conditions when it rains are intolerable. Soaked already, we waded through floods on the main level, and finally bought a few pretzels and dogs and simply sat down on the concrete. But it was a joke to see a dozen men sweeping water from the outfield in a futile attempt to prepare for a delayed start: At any modern or renovated facility, there’s something called a drainage system that alleviates such difficulties unless it’s been raining all day. As it was, the skies were clear at 8 p.m. when the game was called, leaving us with rain checks for a September makeup match, right after school starts for the boys. The new Sox owners, who’ve turned this team around (although Dan Duquette, in an effort to save his job, should be given due credit for offseason pick-ups like Damon, John Burkett and Rey Sanchez), now need to focus on several fronts. Immediately, Offerman, Tony Clark and probably Rich Garces need a "good night and good luck" dismissal. I doubt the Sox would get much in return–although Offerman might thrive at Coors Field with the Rockies–but they’re just clogging up the roster right now. And the idea of adding another 10,000 seats to the current Fenway is fine (and understandable, given the park’s minuscule capacity), but it’s imperative a new stadium be built within five years. At the beginning of the month, I predicted the Bosox would be two games behind the Yanks on June 30, and that’s what’s happened. It could be worse. With the Mets out of contention (the Sox didn’t help by getting swept by the Braves this past weekend), perhaps they’ll join the Blue Jays, Indians and Phillies in unloading high-salary players. Roberto Alomar, who’s underperformed in the NL, would be a good pick-up for Boston, as would be Al Leiter. And I still believe plucking Shannon Stewart from the Blue Jays would ignite the team’s offense. Left-Wing Jargon Lewis Lapham, editor of Harper’s, is likely an educated fellow who can crack witty jokes with George Plimpton and Arthur Schlesinger Jr. at Elaine’s. But upon reading his monthly notebook in the magazine, a painful exercise of Hubert H. Humphrey (pre-LBJ castration) nostalgia, it’s clear he’s also a dope. In an otherwise engaging essay on Thomas Paine in the July issue, Lapham comes up with this absurd statement: "Were Paine still within reach of the federal authorities, Attorney General John Ashcroft undoubtedly would prosecute him for blasphemy under a technologically enhanced version of the Alien and Sedition acts." This nonsense from left-wing writers will never end? Unlike in past wartime administrations, not a single dissident journalist, elected official or Hollywood celebrity has been jailed, and there are a lot more of them to go around than in the days of John Adams, Abraham Lincoln or Woodrow Wilson. Following Lapham’s paranoid train of thought, a partial list of men and women wearing stripes today, besides the author himself, would include: Paul Krugman, Maureen Dowd, Robert Scheer, Thomas Oliphant, Richard Cohen, Alex Cockburn, Dana Milbank, James Ridgeway, Ted Rall, Katrina vanden Heuvel, Hendrik Hertzberg, Chris Matthews, Katha Pollitt, the publishers of The New York Times, Washington Post and Los Angeles Times, Alec Baldwin, Michael Moore, Michael Wolff, Julia Roberts, Rep. Cynthia McKinney and Susan Sontag. As pernicious as all the above-mentioned are, the country ought to celebrate the Bush administration’s adherence to the Constitution. So while a cocktail party comprised of these Ashcroft-bashers would indeed be a stinker, with "Free Jose Padilla" buttons passed out at the door instead of champagne flutes, I’m glad they haven’t suffered the same fate as Eugene Debs. The following reaction to Bush’s historic June 24 speech, which strongly supported Israel’s right to defend itself, but also outlined a process for a Palestinian state–as long as Yasir Arafat isn’t involved in it–demonstrates the vitality of America’s vibrant free press. (Bush’s remarks were welcome not only for backing the sole Mideast democracy, but also setting the stage for an invasion of Iraq: With Ariel Sharon given the green light to eliminate Arab terrorists, the President is now free to complete plans for Saddam Hussein’s ouster.) The New York Times (6/25): "We are no fans of Mr. Arafat either, and we accept Mr. Bush’s conclusion that Israel and the Palestinians will have little hope of achieving real peace as long as he’s in charge. But making Mr. Arafat’s fate the be-all and end-all of the Mideast peace process makes him look far too significant, and makes it all the harder for the Palestinians themselves to show him the door." George Will (6/26): "President Bush’s Monday statement was the most clearsighted U.S. intervention in the Israeli-Palestinian crisis in the 35 years since the 1967 war, and perhaps in the 54 years since the founding of Israel. It enunciated a policy that makes eventual peace at least conceivable, and meanwhile frees the president to pursue the global anti-terrorism agenda articulated in five other speeches in the past year." Mary McGrory (6/29): "In his long-awaited speech on the Middle East, George W. Bush accomplished one thing: He validated the wisdom of his original impulse to have nothing to do with the Middle East. His speech demonstrated he has nothing to contribute." David Brooks (6/25): "George Bush has a novel approach to the Middle East; he tells the truth. Yesterday’s statement wasn’t filled with diplomatic jargon. It didn’t try to reconcile six different policies through artful fudging. Instead the statement has the ring of honest conviction." Beinart’s Mixed-Up Confusion Is New Republic editor Peter Beinart crumbling under the understandable pressure of answering to three owners instead of just to Martin Peretz? It would seem so. Just weeks after insulting evangelical Christians for their unwavering support of Israel–a lesson that liberal Jews might learn from–the youngster has again infused his desire for Democratic control of both the House and Senate in a "TRB" column, this time on Ward Connerly’s noble battle against affirmative action. Beinart attacks conservatives for supporting Connerly’s California drive promoting "color blindness" in that state. Connerly says: "Until I am senile or no longer draw a breath, I will constantly urge the government to embrace race-blind policies." How anyone can argue with that sensible sentiment is beyond me. But Beinart, grasping for examples of right-wing hypocrisy, pretends to be perplexed about "schizophrenic conservative rhetoric." He writes in TNR’s July 8 issue: "On the one hand, conservatives blithely endorse Connerly’s initiative as the natural extension of their longstanding battle against racial preferences. On the other, since September 11, conservatives have unceremoniously junked the very principle on which all that anti-affirmative action crusading rests: color blindness. When it comes to Arabs and the war on terrorism, conservatives don’t want to ‘eliminate racial profiling’ at all. They want the ACLU and all the other politically correct guiltmongers to get out of the way and let the government start practicing it. In its writing on affirmative action and its writing on homeland security, the American right is engaged with a dialogue of the deaf–with itself." Beinart ought to do himself a favor and start working for Al Gore’s 2004 presidential run before he embarrasses himself further in print. Affirmative action, which is a plague on the American ideal of equality, discriminates against whites (people not "of color") in everything from college admissions to employment opportunities. There’s absolutely no contradiction in conservatives calling for the profiling of young Arabs at airports, train stations and border crossings. The country is at war against Muslim fanatics and singling out those of Mideastern descent, instead of wasting time searching the elderly, disabled and children, whether they’re white, black or yellow, is imperative. It has nothing at all to do with an "African-American" (I live for the day when blacks are simply called black) receiving preferential treatment from Yale because of his or her skin color. Trash Talk The gossip/flack Liz Smith (who may or may not be on the payroll of numerous magazines) wouldn’t be arrested for her detestable columns under Lewis Lapham’s goofy fantasy of U.S. justice, but she’d be doing newspaper readers a service if she took a long sabbatical. Last Sunday, Smith took a break from blowing air kisses to Ann Richards and fell back on another favorite: Tina Brown. She wrote: "Went to a swell lunch for Tina Brown at the Fifth Avenue apartment of Reba White Williams. It’s always nice to go somewhere where someone is giving something for–no reason! Just fun and friendship... "The guest of honor looks like a new woman since she shook off the shackles of editing Talk, a magazine that the all-knowing, all-smirking publishing world never gave a chance... I never saw Tina before without a worry line between her eyebrows. Now she looks serene. And, no doubt, she’ll stay that way until asked to take over another publication, save a Hollywood studio or run for public office." A few facts: Brown hardly "shook off the shackles" of editing Talk; she instead blamed everyone but herself–Sept. 11, the media recession, appalled readers–for the monthly’s well-deserved demise. As for Brown’s future, currently she’s damaged goods, and I can’t think of a single publisher/owner who’d hire the mercurial, throw-cash-down-the-toilet editor. But I do relish Smith’s dingbat idea of Tina’s "saving" a movie studio, and no doubt Harvey Weinstein agrees. As for a career in politics, that’s more plausible: If Hillary Clinton, Barbara Boxer and James Jeffords can win the voters’ approval, it’s obvious the bar for public service is at an all-time low. FDR Revisionism I have no idea why Slate’s Mickey Kaus has it in for The American Prospect cofounder Robert Kuttner–I doubt it’s for his New Deal political views–but it wouldn’t bother me a whit if Kaus’ nonstop predictions that the earnest magazine has as much sand left in the hour glass as the equally objectionable Salon came true. Although if TAP did fold, readers would be deprived of Kuttner’s tortured attempts at humor. I particularly relished his column in the July 15 issue, headlined "Philanthropy and Movements." He begins: "Recently I was invited to be the token liberal at a major national conference of conservative foundations. The invitation was to debate Bill Kristol, The Weekly Standard editor, TV pundit, and conservative grand strategist [Karl Rove might disagree with that dated notion], as the after-dinner entertainment. Presumably, conservative donors wished to view the face of the enemy, close up. The better I did, the deeper they would dig into their ample pockets. "The dinner was held at one of New York’s most elegant hotels, the Pierre. The sponsors put me up at the nearby Hotel Roosevelt, a spartan midtown hostelry one cut above fleabag. I gamely accepted this lesser billeting not as demeaning confirmation of the right’s two-class vision for society, but as recognition of my esteem for FDR." Obviously, Kuttner has no shortage of ego–the very idea that this wimpy stuck-in-the-60s paleolib would even cause a ripple among conservatives is just silly–but that aside, the insufferable "populist" has apparently lodged at the world’s finest hotels if he considers the Roosevelt "one cut above fleabag." No, it’s not the Pierre, but the Roosevelt isn’t a Holiday Inn either. And how Kuttner rationalizes his perceived snub as "recognition of my esteem for FDR" is puzzling: The four-term president, as aristocratic as any of his fellow White House occupants, wasn’t exactly Andrew Jackson when it came to where he bedded down. Oh, Katrina! Shameful. That’s the only word to describe The Nation’s betrayal of its all-inclusive, I’d-Like-to-Teach-the-World-to-Sing worldview. Two letters to the editor published in the weekly’s July 15 issue were scandalously politically incorrect, a lapse ascribed either to Hamptons getaways for the editors or, more likely, the correspondents’ unchecked antipathy to President Bush. On June 10, The Nation’s cover ran a picture of Bush, in a hunter’s outfit, with the headline "Clueless?" Mike Wavada wrote: "Cartoon fans might appreciate a different caption on your June 10 cover: ‘Be vewy quiet. I’m hunting tewwowists.’" Not to be outdone, Ben Johnson contributed the following: "An alternate caption might be: ‘George W. Fudd: ‘Is that you, Osama, you wascawwy Awab?’" So The Nation now stands for mocking the speech-impaired?
I live for the day when all people are judged by their character, not the color of their skin.
We watched the first Red Sox-Indians game on the tube Tuesday night, and though Boston’s anemic offense led to another frustrating loss
Do people actually pay to read this clown's TV watching history?
Today is the day, starting with you -- and anyone else you can persuade to consciously oppose PC tyranny. And while you're at it, if you were born here, start re-claiming the title of native American for yourself, and start referring to American Indians as "aboriginal Americans."
We must win the PC language wars at every opportunity, and it begins with each of us -- an Army of One, fighting the battle every day.
It wasn't Smith, but his paper's columnist Michael Signorile, who wrote the column, which described Drudge as being gay. That was enough for Drudge to remove both the Mugger and New York Press links.
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