President Barack Obama addressed the National Prayer Breakfast at the Hilton in Washington, D.C. today, February 4, 2010. His remarks on civility are worth repeating, although I am only sharing excerpts, with commentary. . The entire transcript appeared in the Washington Post under the title “Politics and Policy in Washington” in an online posting made at 10:55 a.m. on Thursday (Feb. 4, 2010).

After the normal “welcomes” and reference to how “prayer can bring sustenance to our lives” Obama said, “But there is a sense that something is different now; that something is broken; that those of us in Washington are not serving the people as well as we should. At times, it seems like we’re unable to listen to one another, to have at once a serious and civil debate.  And this erosion of civility in the public square sows division and distrust among our citizens.  It poisons the well of public opinion.  It leaves each side little room to negotiate with the other.  It makes politics an all-or-nothing sport, where one side is either always right or always wrong when, in reality, neither side has a monopoly on truth…Empowered by faith, consistently, prayerfully, we need to find our way back to civility.”

Obama went on, “Civility also requires relearning how to disagree without being disagreeable…We forget that we share at some deep level the same dreams—even when we don’t share the same plans on how to fulfill them.”  The president urged a way “to make an impact in a way that’s civil and respectful of difference and focused on what matters most.

Obama quoted three great leaders in making his point(s) on civility:

1)      Abraham Lincoln, who said, on the eve of the Civil War, “We are not enemies, but friends.  Though passions may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.”

2)      Martin Luther King:  “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.”

3)      President John F. Kennedy: “Civility is not a sign of weakness.”

Obama said, “But progress doesn’t come when we demonize opponents.  It’s not born in righteous spite.” He added, “It seems like the very idea (of civility) is a relic of some bygone era.  The word itself seems quaint—civility.”

All of the above excerpts from our president’s February 4^th speech are so true and so sad. I have bold-faced the last line, because I think that President Obama may not realize how true it is: civility and politeness are, indeed, values no longer abroad in the land. Civility is a quaint word and a quaint concept in 2010.

It seems that only the older generation—those who grew up in the age of Truman and Eisenhower or before— have even a dim memory of how it used to be in society.  Children were taught to be polite; rudeness towards one’s parents, peers or teachers was not tolerated. The longshoreman language we hear spouted by even first-grade students in schools was non-existent in those “happy days.”

In today’s schools at every level, teachers are lucky if they are merely called profane names. Educators are fortunate if they are only assaulted with idle threats and profane insults when things don’t go the students’ way.  The teacher is no longer always right. Mom and Dad—if there is one— (and, often, the administration of the school) will very often side with Junior and undercut attempts at enforcing standards of civility and polite discourse. In some noteworthy cases, Junior may become violent, a threat to himself, his teachers, and his classmates. These outbursts, this impolite, dangerous behavior did not happen in the days of civility and polite discourse.

Not just schools and government, but all of our institutions are under attack; none of our institutions are totally trusted any longer. It doesn’t matter if you’re a fireman, a policeman, a teacher or a politician. Whatever form of authority you represent, even if it is simply the owner of a store, handling customer complaints is a nightmare in this age of out-of-control anger and uncivil behavior.

What was most telling, for me, about President Obama’s eloquent words, were the three quotes he selected to illustrate his very valid points about civility in 2010. Obama quoted John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the martyred president of Camelot lost; Martin Luther King, Jr., the murdered Civil Rights leader who preached nonviolence to his followers; and Abraham Lincoln, whose enemies chose to still that Illinois president’s voice of reason with a bullet to the brain

I found the words of President Obama’s speech true and moving.

However, I fear that he is pleading for something that is perhaps gone forever, like the dinosaur, or, if not gone, in very short supply.  Quoting three murdered leaders only makes me fear more for our president and for our country, which so badly needs polite and civil discourse and both sides working together in civil harmony, rather than radical rants and unreasonable stone-walling.

Something is broken, Mr. President, not just in Washington, D.C., but also in the United States of America. Can chaos give way to order? Can the bell of rude behavior be unrung when it’s been pealing for decades?

Many things are definitely broken in America. I wonder if they can be fixed?

Today is a good day to write this for my daughter, who lives in Nashville and attended college  (Belmont University) in Nashville. It may (or may not) enlighten her to an anniversary being hailed by USA Today in their Monday, February 1, 2010 issue, in a front page story entitled “How a Demand for Lunch Fueled a Push for Rights.” The story, written by Larry Copeland, references the 50-year anniversary of a sit-in by black students and their white friends at the businesses along Fifth Street in Nashville, Tennessee.

Although Nashville’s sit-in protesting racial discrimination at the city’s lunch counters like Woolworth’s (then a staple) was upstaged by an impromptu sit-in the day before, [on February 1, 1960], at North Carolina A&T College, by four black students (all freshman African American students at AT&T College)—Joseph McNeil, Ezell Blair, Jr., David Richmond and Franklin McCain—the Nashville protest movement involved many more students, both local residents and many who were urged, as I was, to get on buses and travel South to be part of the protests. Many of these Freedom Riders, as they were known (or trouble-makers, if you were a local in the Southern community being visited), were organized by SNCC (the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee).

SNCC was organized in Raleigh, North Carolina in 1960 to help coordinate sit-ins and freedom rides and marches. Most were unpaid volunteers, but some were paid $10 a week to help the organization. Initially, the organization was meant to be non-violent. In its later incarnations under Stokely Carmichael, when the Black Power salute came into being, etc., the organization’s leaders said, “I don’t know how much longer we can remain non-violent,” and, indeed, it did not stand fast to Martin Luther King’s original nonviolent protest principles and passed out of existence in the seventies. However, during the hey-day of the sixties, SNCC was instrumental in helping organize protest movements in the United States, both by raising funds and by recruiting sympathetic students from across the northern part of the United States, who traveled South to help win civil rights for the black residents.

One of the most influential, in fact, would be an English major from Chicago, Diane Nash, who emerged as a key spokeswoman and ultimately confronted Nashville’s Mayor, Ben West at the height of the city’s sit-ins of 1960 (.

Nashville, Tennessee in 1960 was still a segregated city in the South, although it prided itself on being “the Athens of the South,” with its model Parthenon in the park and what officials felt was an enlightened attitude. But the black students who could not be served at Woolworth’s, S.H. Kress, McClellan’s, Grant’s, Walgreen’s and Cain-Sloan along Fifth Street didn’t quite see it that way.

Today, with the benefit of looking back from the vantage-point of 50 years in the future, it is apparent that the Nashville protest for civil rights was far better organized than many of those being staged in 112 Southern cities by October of 1960 (as documented in Juan Williams’ book Eyes on the Prize: America’s Civil rights Years, 1954-1965).  Of the 112 sit-ins and other demonstrations staged, many were ineffectual. It is a tribute to the preparation and planning of leaders like Chicago’s Diane Nash that Nashville’s sit-ins and protest movement yielded fruit that today’s college students benefit from, even if they cannot remember and, sometimes, cannot believe that this sort of unrest occurred in their fair city.

While Joseph McNeil, one of the original sit-in demonstrators at the lunch counter at Woolworth’s in Greensboro, North Carolina, had simply “had enough” and did what he did with little preparation or forethought, simply because, “I didn’t want to see my children have to face the same problems.  We just felt that this certainly was a time to act. If not now, when? If not my generation, what generation?” others spent more time preparing and planning. McNeil is now 67 and a retired Air Force Reserve major general who lives in Hempstead, New York. He adds, “My parents grew up and carried the scars of racial segregation.”

Lest readers think that Nashville, with its reputation as the Athens of the South, was so much better than Greensboro, North Carolina, let me quote 82-year-old John Seigenthaler in the USA Today front page article (Feb. 1, 2010) who was then the weekend city editor of The Tennessean, Nashville’s leading newspaper. Said Seigenthaler, “It (Nashville) was as segregated by race as any city in South Africa during apartheid.” Seigenthaler went on to become the first editorial director of USA Today, after serving as editor and publisher of The Tennessean.

When 124 students who had been coached in non-violent reaction by groups such as SNCC, dressed in their Sunday best, marched quietly, 2 abreast, from a nearby church to Fifth Avenue in Nashville and entered Woolworth’s, S.H. Kress, and McClellan’s, stores that, today, we would describe as “dime stores,” they were told by a waitress, “We don’t serve niggers here.”

The students waited quietly while other shoppers stared.  The protesters sat for a few hours and then left. However, the students returned over and over again during the next 2 weeks and added a fourth store, Grant’s, and a fifth, Walgreen’s.  (None of these stores remain on Nashville’s Fifth Avenue, today, except Walgreen’s, which hasn’t had a lunch counter in decades, as that particular American cultural phenomenon has been supplanted by fast food places like McDonald’s and Burger King.)

Each subsequent sit-in grew larger, attracting more students to the cause, but each subsequent sit-in also attracted supportive, idealistic white youths of the era. Protesters were heckled, beat, and spat upon the protesters and all this has been documented on film. By February 27, 1960, Nashville had decided to crack down on the disruption(s) to the local businesses and 81 students had been arrested.

Seigenthaler remembers, “For the white community, there was shock, anger, overwhelmingly negative feelings. The business community adopted a very steel-backed approach, rigid and very negative.”

I remember that, in my own case, I only took part in demonstrations that were held on the campuses of the universities I was actually attending. My parents decreed that there would be no bus trips to Southern cities for this college co-ed. But the colleges I was attending during the years outlined in Juan Williams’ book (see above) were the University of California at Berkeley and the University of Iowa in Iowa City, Iowa. (If you think things were “all quiet on the western front at Berkeley,” you have not read many history books about “Berzerkley” in the sixties.)

I remember that all the bookstore windows were broken out during demonstrations, to the point that the bookstores on both campuses replaced their previously glass windows with a bricked-up substitute. I remember the (repeated) occupation of Sproul Hall (the administration building) on campus at Berkeley and many protest rallies and concerts by such luminaries as Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan and, in one memorable poetry reading, Alan Ginsberg.

Ginsberg, the much-acclaimed author of “Howl” and one of the Beat Poets (like Jack Kerouac of “On the Road”) was so high on something that the janitor had to be summoned to actually physically lift the man, (squatting cross-legged in yoga lotus position onstage with finger cymbals), and remove him from the stage (stage left, as they say). I remember Mario Savio, now deceased, who was constantly rallying the student demonstrators, and just as constantly being hauled off to jail. [Imagine my surprise on a return trip to Berkeley recently to discover a life-sized statue of this leader of the Free Speech movement and civil rights activist right on campus. (“The times, they are a’changin’,” for sure.)]

But back to Nashville, so that my daughter, born in 1987, may read some reminiscences of others more central to integrating the city she now calls home.

Sit-ins had been tried in more than 12 cities, beginning in Wichita, Kansas in 1958, but the one in Greensboro, North Carolina described above ignited the most passion and reignited Dr. Martin Luther King’s movement, which had flagged after the Rosa Parks bus incident in Birmingham, Alabama, faded from memory. Without the students leading the way, Dr. King’s movement might well have faltered, but the unbridled enthusiasm of youth—harnessed again in Barack Obama’s campaign in 2008—rescued a flagging Civil Rights movement back in the sixties.

By February, 1960, sit-ins had taken place in 31 cities. By March, 1960, sit-ins had taken place in 71 cities (USA Today article of Feb. 1, 2010, by Larry Copeland, p.2A). By October, 1960, sit-ins had occurred in 112 Southern cities. The movement was growing and, in Nashville, at least, students from all over the country and all over the world were feeding it.  Said Representative John Lewis, (D, Ga.) who was then 19 and among those in the Civil Rights movement in 1960, “Students would come to Fisk to watch films and plays, or come to the Fisk Chapel to listen to unbelievable music, but they could not eat together downtown in racially mixed groups.”

For 2 years prior to the Nashville movement of 1960, Lewis was among a group of students learning non-violent tactics from James Lawson, a graduate student at Vanderbilt University. (Again, at Iowa, the group was SNCC, Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee). This is where Diane Nash from Chicago, mentioned earlier, studied the movement and where Bernard LaFayette, who later became a college president, would take part. C.T. Vivian, who later became an Atlanta city councilman was there and Marion Barry, later the Mayor of Washington, D.C. whose antics in office earned him a less-than-stellar reputation for drug use and womanizing, decades afterwards.

All these disparate people came together and planned, for 2 years, to hold mock sit-ins and studied how NOT to respond if attacked or arrested. Test sit-ins were held in late 1959 at 2 Nashville department stores, Harvey’s and Cain-Sloan. All this was in preparation for “the real deal,” which rolled out on February 13, 1960.

Says LaFayette, today, “There was an ongoing debate between the students and their parents.  They (the parents) feared for our safety, because we were going up against a system that was not known to be very sympathetic or humane, particularly law enforcement in the South.”

I had grown up in the lily-white town of Independence, Iowa. I did not have…then or now…. one shred of prejudice towards any other ethnic group. It isn’t that I can claim any moral high ground. I just had had no bad experiences of any kind (nor good, for that matter) with the students referenced as “colored.” Basic human decency and logic would dictate that people are people, no matter what color or religion they are, and should be treated equally well. Isn’t it the Bible that says, “Do unto others as ye would have them do unto you?”

It didn’t take me long to decide where I would stand on this issue, but how active I could/would be in the movement was dictated by my conservative Midwestern parents who controlled the purse strings. However, when I was on campus where it was all happening (as at Berkeley and Iowa)…(finish that thought). My parents were completely clear that I was NOT to sign anything, NOT to get arrested, and NOT to get on a bus heading south.

However, as long as I didn’t sign anything (“Do NOT sign anything,” said my stern father.) nor get on a bus for parts unknown, like the hapless college students whose short lives and brutish murders are so compellingly portrayed in the 1988 Alan Parker film “Mississippi Burning” (Gene Hackman, Willem Dafoe), I could take part in protests on the campuses I was actually attending without repercussions that would cause trouble with the authorities (and, in that group, I include my conservative parents). I remember particularly vividly giving blood to be thrown on the steps of Old Capitol in protest, but the protest was an anti Vietnam War protest, not a Civil Rights protest.

 This period of time stretched from 1963 to 1968, later than the period (1960) being discussed in the USA Today story. Still, I remember that the beacon burned bright in those years of the sixties, especially as anti-war protests against the Vietnam War, fueled by our nation’s draft system, began to become part of the mix.

As for sit-ins, perhaps 100,000 participated in them, according to historian Clayborne Carson, and 3,000 were arrested in 1960, alone, so demands that you “not get arrested” were reality-based when delivered by a worried parent to an idealistic would-be participant.

The sit-ins in Nashville carried on in to April of 1960, costing local merchants money. Easter was approaching and the large black middle class in Nashville organized a “No New Clothes Easter.” “Jim Crow” laws in at least 11 Southern states prohibited inter-racial mingling between blacks and whites, but, in 1954, the Supreme Court had ordered the schools desegregated. Ordering it didn’t make it happen, however, and there have been books written about the integration of the South’s most revered black institutions (colleges, universities, public schools), including a famous Norman Rockwell painting depicting a small black girl walking into a previously all-white school.

Said a Nashville student who was part of the protest movement of 1960 (Mitchell) of the “No New Clothes Easter:” “People were very serious about this.  They didn’t shop.  Anyone who had new clothes that Easter stood out.” Naturally, this hurt local merchants and Mayor Ben West proposed a compromise whereby a 3-month trial period would allow blacks to be served in a separate area of the local restaurants (Remember “separate but equal?”). This angered the black students and it was rejected. The sit-ins continued.

On April 19^th, the home of the students’ attorney, Z. Alexander Lobby, was bombed. Thousands of people, both black and white, marched in silence to City Hall later that day, where spokeswoman Diane Nash (the Chicago convert) addressed Mayor Ben West, saying, “Mayor, do you recommend that the lunch counters be desegregated?”

The Mayor—who had always been viewed as a moderate and who was a white man presiding over an integrated city council—hesitated briefly and then said, “Yes.” (This version comes from Seigenthaler, who was present.) Says historian Clayborne Carson, “The sit-ins were the real starting point of the protests of the 1960s.”

By May 10, 1960, six Fifth Avenue stores (Kress’, Woolworth’s, McClellan’s, Grant’s, Walgreen’s and Cain-Sloan’s) seated black customers at lunch counters for the first time. When Reverend Martin Luther-King came to Nashville mere days after the confrontation between Chicago’s Diane Nash and Mayor Ben West, he told a capacity crowd in the Fisk auditorium, “The Nashville sit-ins were the best organized and the most disciplined in the Southland.” (Parting the Waters by Pulitzer-prize winner Taylor Branch).

As a sometimes Chicagoan who participated in protests during the troubled decade of the sixties, it is difficult for me to explain to my 22-year-old daughter, who lives in the very city where much of this occurred, how it is conceivable that a white minority would or could attempt to keep down a black majority. One has only to look to apartheid in South Africa with the Dutch colonial settlers (and this year’s “Invictus” film by Clint Eastwood) to realize that the history I lived through and participated in (to a lesser extent than these pioneers, but to the extent that I was able to do so) really did occur.

As Seigenthaler put it, “It’s really tough to understand how a city could be so insensitive, and, in some ways, so dumb, but Nashville’s ability to resolve it within a relatively short period of time and put it behind them is worth considering.” Says Mitchell, “Nashville, today, is a city that’s very respected in race relations. It’s a diverse, international community.  The present generation is often shocked when we refer to the sit-ins. They see a very open and urban community, and they don’t believe that that happened here.”

As you drive down Fifth Avenue in Nashville, today, little remains to remind of the history that took place in these streets. There are no signs or memorials and, although the sign is still up at the old Kress store, it’s been converted into loft apartments.  Walgreen’s, the only store of those mentioned that remains, has no lunch counter, and has had no such amenity in decades.

Nashville residents, like my daughter, can sit together and eat lunch wherever they want with whomever they choose, today. But they owe that freedom to Freedom Riders (as they were known), youths like me, who often boarded buses and traveled South (at considerable risk) to join their oppressed fellowman, in the hope of assuring “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” just as our Constitution has assured our citizens since the 1700s. It was justice and equality for all under the law, regardless of race, color or creed that the children of the sixties stood up for.  I hope today’s youth and tomorrow’s youth-yet-to-be-born remember this history 50 years from now.

When I was in St. Paul, Minnesota for the Republican National Convention in the fall of 2008, my blog guy, Phil, insisted that I had to take myself over to the Target Center to attend the Ron Paul Rally for America that was going on there, at the exact same time that the old-looking, white, Republican hordes were nominating John McCain and Sarah Palin in downtown St. Paul, Minnesota.
What I knew about Ron Paul you could put in a pea and it would rattle, but I had seen him on television during the caucus season, and I felt he was getting the short end of the stick most of the time. He often seemed the only Republican up there who actually made a little bit of sense. And soon after he was allowed to appear for a few debates, the PTB shut him down and we saw less and less of old Ron, although his supporters became more and more vocal and active, appearing at nearly every big campaign event.

Dr. Paul doesn’t make sense all of the time, but he certainly got my attention with his comments about spending more than you take in being a bad thing.  He could was eloquent when talking about the crime that he thinks was committed when America left the gold standard (for backing our currency) and began printing money up like worthless scrip. I even remember my banker father taking a few gold dollars (uncirculated) and putting them away in a safety deposit box, telling me that these would, some day, become collectors’ items. (And, boy, was he ever right!)

When I entered the Target Center in Minneapolis (St. Paul’s twin city), which most people had paid $17 a head to enter (press got in free), I was amazed at the fact that the place was full and, also, at the diversity of the audience members. There were many spectators walking around wearing delegate badges to the “real” Republican convention across town in St. Paul. When I asked one of the delegates to the RNC why he was here (Minneapolis) rather than there (St. Paul) he said, “This is where the real action is.” And I felt he was  right. I got a sense of enthusiasm, of supporters who were not just rich fat cats or old white men, but a diverse group cutting across all segments of the nation. Why, I hadn’t had a feeling like that since I was present in Denver at the DNC at the Pepsi Center!
Now, the Ron Paul Rally for America action was odd action. I was sandwiched between 2 economists from Germany who tried to give me a crash course on Libertarianism and seemed to think that Ron Paul represented the second coming. (I was afraid one of them might accidentally give an unfortunate salute at any moment, such was his unbridled enthusiasm.)  I felt I was having an out-of-body experience when, onstage, appeared (at one time) Barry Goldwater, Jr. (looking just like dear old Dad), Tucker Carlson, Jesse Ventura (former professional wrestler, actor and Governator of Minnesota), and Ron Paul. When the conversation took off on legalizing hemp, I began to really feel I had wandered into an alternate universe. It was surreal.

But the one thing that you could say for and about the St. Paul “Ron Paul Rally for America” is that it had youth. It had vigor. It had action. It had a feeling of some life and some commitment to the cause. I had some hope that the elephant might survive, IF it could find a way to get these radical rascals back into the herd.  And I don’t mean the herd of old white fat cats with no visible diversity at all. This year, in Bush Jr.’s absence the party had even given up the display of token inclusion they attempted during the second of “W’s” conventions.

Imagine my surprise to pick up the December 14 (2009) issue of Newsweek magazine and belatedly read Howard Fineman’s article “Is There a Doctor in the House?” in which he says (among other things), in a discussion of Ron Paul, “No one thinks Ron Paul is going to lead the G.O.P, let alone be president.  He’s 74 years old and just too…out there.  He is an obscure guy who waited patiently (if not quietly) for the cycle of history to come back around his way, and finally it did. We have been arguing about money, credit, and banks since the first days of the republic. Paul is a bargain basement Jefferson for our time.”

Wow! My ears perked up at these words of praise for the old warrior.  I read on, because what Howard Fineman said next is what I have been telling everyone everywhere since the Republican National Convention in Minnesota and I want to thank Phil (my blog guy) for making me go hear Ron Paul and the Libertarians, who seem(ed) to much more fully capture the zeitgeist and spirit of America than the Gestapo-like horde of old white guys downtown in St. Paul.

Said Fineman in his article: “Still, the GOP needs to study Ron Paul and learn.  No one has better captured the sense of Main Street outrage over secret insider deals and Wall Street bonuses.  No one has been more consistent about sticking to core conservative values—including the one that says the government shouldn’t spend more money than it takes in.” [At this point, I’m sure, were my own dear father alive, he’d be chiming in, shaking his head in assent and saying, “That’s right!”]

Fineman went on to say, “If the GOP is going to appeal to independent voters, it has to confront its own corporate allies…The good doctor, of all people, is showing Republicans the way.  What they need is a candidate who embodies the spirit of Ron Paul. Just so long as it isn’t Ron Paul.”

Hear, hear! I’m beginning to think that I do make some sense once in a while, because Howard Fineman has come around to my way of thinking roughly a year after my Eureka moment in Minneapolis.                                        

When I read David Broder’s “Viewpoint” column (Washington Post) on November 6th, I was surprised to read this:  “On Tuesday night, I asked two of the wisest and most broadminded people I know in Washington what they thought of Obama’s prospects.  One of them, U.S. Senator Chris Dodd of Connecticut, had opposed Obama for the Democratic presidential nomination earlier this year.  The other, retiring Republican U.S. Representative Ray LaHood of Illinois (Peoria, actually), was an early and ardent supporter of McCain. Both of them are very upbeat about what comes next.”

Ray LaHood was my neighbor for many years in East Moline, Illinois on our 3rd St. B court street. At that time, he worked for the Bi-state Metropolitan Planning Commission, and his son, Darren, was an 8th grade classmate of my son, Scott.

One summer day, Scott came running into the house, breathlessly exclaiming that Darren had built a ramp for his skateboard and, sans helmet, had driven over it at warp speed, fallen and apparently knocked himself out. I was a schoolteacher at the time and home on summer vacation, but Darren’s dad was at work and his mom was not at home at the time. Darren was groggy, but semi-conscious, and it appeared safe to move him by car to the emergency room in Silvis, Illinois (Illini Hospital), which I did. I called Ray, who immediately came to the hospital, and Darren was none the worse for wear.

As for Senator Dodd, when he was campaigning in Iowa during the winter  caucus season, he actually moved to a house in Des Moines. He appeared as one of the speakers at the Scott County Red-White-and-Blue Banquet in Davenport, Iowa, along with Joe Biden and Walter Mondale. I also covered him at a downtown Irish pub very near the end of his campaign. The crowd was so small that I got quite a bit of face-time with the then-candidate.

On the night of the Iowa caucuses, I drove to Des Moines, Iowa, as I had done during the year that Howard Dean campaigned for president. My friend’s daughter, Emily, wanted a ride downtown and my Prius in the driveway was blocking their family cars. Emily was in the market for an auto, so I told her to drive my hybrid and we struck off for the downtown, where I would drop her off. With Emily at the wheel, I spied a white-haired man I would have sworn was Chris Dodd. I told Emily, “Stop!” and leaped from the car to chase Chris Dodd for fully 3 blocks through the streets of downtown Des Moines. He was surrounded by a small entourage, but I drew near his left elbow, looked him in the eye, and realized that this man wasn’t Senator Christopher Dodd.

“Hi,” the stranger said, somewhat startled.

“Hi,” I said, sheepishly. I immediately retreated to the car, where Emily was convulsed with laughter.

Emily and I then went to the downtown hotel where John Edwards’ campaign group was staying. we saw Madeline Stowe, Jean Smart and James Denton (the plumber on “Desperate Housewives”) in the lobby. We also ended up in the elevator with Mr. and Mrs. Edwards, John’s parents, and chatted with them about their impending move to New Hampshire on the morrow. [All of this was pre-Reilly Hunter Affair/Scandal days.]

Since the party seemed to be over, Emily and I retreated and I dropped her off at her destination and I returned to my friend’s Des Moines home. But as I drove, I was thinking of the foot race I had run to chase down the bogus Christopher Dodd and how I’d be fending off jokes about that for years to come!

On this “day-after-the-election” I wanted to share with you, my reader, some of my thoughts and feellings about the historic journey we have all witnessed, and explain my fascination with the cause.

I began covering the candidates who appeared at the Iowa caucuses the year that (Dr.) Howard Dean ran for president. My long-dormant political passion was stoked by drifting across the steet from teaching classes at the Kahl Building in downtown Davenport, Iowa, and wandering into the downtown Dean headquarters. We were urged to stay and share our thoughts and feelings about the state of America. I became hugely disillusioned in the wake of the 2000 election that saw “hanging chads” in Florida and the Supreme Court select George W. Bush as our 43rd president. I found it incomprehensible that one man’s brother (then-Governor Jeb Bush of Florida) could hand the most important office in our land to someone totally unprepared. The process was broken. I, along with many others, felt betrayed. I have felt that only once before…when a 1st Ward Alderman race I had labored long and hard in turned out to be “rigged,” was proven to have had officials at the top playing fast-and-loose with the absentee ballots, but nothing…not one word…was written in the local newspaper, despite the presence of a reporter from same (Jenny Lee of the Moline, Illinois, Daily Dispatch). it is one thing for candidates to cheat and get caught. That happens every day. My point: where is the retribution? Where is the “gotcha’” moment that restores the true, natural order of the universe? It seemed that the sense of decency and honesty in the election process that i had watched my father helped preserve in his races for Democratic County Treasurer of Buchanan County (IA) had evaporated, and in its place was corruption at the very heart of the political process…even in small-town America. If counties like Rock Island County, Illinois, were proven to be as dirty as Cook County in Chicago, what was the world coming to? And if proving it, in court, didn’t bring at least a slap on the hand to the perpetrators, could our national election process be far behind in granting complete impunity to those who would steal our democracy from us?

I live in a divided household, an Arnold Schwarzenegger/Maria Shriver split, with no one but me weighing in as a Democrat or…at times…an Independent. When one family member admits to glee at the time that JFK was shot, the feeling of complete alienation from what is right and what is good becomes pervasive. I have never wished death on a candidate, no matter how corrupt or evil I might perceive them to be. I have the same horror of that kind of thinking as I do for not trying (at least) to see the other person’s point of view.

Many times, my life partner would tell me that, in expressing my support for a candidate that (apparently) did not provide congruency with his own choices, I was or had been “obnoxious.” This meant that I had spoken my mind about the lack of preparedness or the general quality of a Repubican, usually, and I had found them wanting. at the same time, I hosted coffees for a Republican neighbor (Ray LaHood, last out of Peoria) and contributed to more than one Republican candidate (Andrea Zinga, Dave Machacek) so, was I really the blind straight-party voting ticket person that my spouse accused me of being during various discussions that generated far more heat than light? No. I was someone who would weigh the candidates and try my best to select that individual who could best lead our country in troubled times.

No times are more troubled than now. The economy is spiraling downward. We are fighting on two fronts. Our esteem abroad seemed irreparably shattered by a pre-emptive war that should never have been started, begun by a man who wanted to show dear old dad that he could do it better. History will judge if junior did a better job  or a worse job than his father, but, as for me, in my semi-retirement, determined to write as I had always planned to do, I became political.

Oh, we still observed the political sticker moratorium, after the years of a Republican bumper sticker being applied over a Democratic bumper sticker ad nauseum, but I was not content to sit idly by and watch my country go down the tubes in the wake of George W. Bush. I became convinced that a president who was determined to ‘win at any costs” and a running mate with little or no foreign policy experience and some very esoteric views about the rest of the world and science and religion spelled certain doom for what remained of this once-great nation.

And I also decided that the best way for me to contribute to the victory of one (of many excellent Democratic candidates (Obama, Clinton, Richardson, Edwards, et. al.) as opposed to the reactionary forces of the Republicans arrayed against them was to throw off the cloak of meek-and-mild indifference and DO SOMETHING. Anything. Even if it was the wrong something, it would be better than a Bush clone in the White House. After all, what more could the man ruin.

It was this decision, made during a previous election run, that led me to ‘blog” for Iowa (www.blogforiowa), which, no doubt, earned me a place on George W. Bush’s enemies list. I took popular song lyrics and turned them into political gems aimed at exposing the Man Who Would be King. With humor, I aimed barbs at “the Decider,” covering Abu Ghraib and all things horrible like it. My journey had begun, and it would not end until November 4, 2008, in Grant Park in Chicago (see video above).

Through the bitter cold of Iowa’s winter, I tracked caucus candidates like Joe Biden and Christopher Dodd and Hillary Clinton and John Edwards and Barack obama to school gymnasiums and people’s living rooms. I listened to their message(s) of change and hope. I contributed cash, but, more importantly, I contributed time and effort, attempting to let others know what I was able to observe, up-close-and-personal. Yes, some of my early heroes turned out to have feet of clay (Edwards, anyone?), but the eventual winner of this marathon race seems like the right man for the job at the right time in history.

The palpable enthusiasm at last night’s part gathering was like a city celebrating a World Series or a Super Bowl victory. Just a few moments ago, sitting in my 7th floor condo on Indiana Avenue near Hutchinson Field, a red balloon, no doubt left over from last night’s celebration, drifted past my balcony door. Today, though I am tired, I feel that, somehow, we, as a nation are back on the right track. It is a given that other nation’s will see Barack Obama as a worthy representative of this nation’s highest ideals. After years of a stumbling, incoherent leader who not only could not speak well, but could not lead well, we will have a well-qualified, well-educated, hard-working man who seems to genuinely love his family and his country in ways that do not visit death and destruction on the rest of the world.

I pray for Barack Obama on this day-after-the-election. I revel in the knowledge that I was “there,” inside, at the Pepsi Center in Denvr, at the Excel Center in St. Paul, at the Target Center for the Ron Paul Rally in Minneapolis, at the Iowa caucuses, at the Belmont Town Hall Meeting in Nashville, Tennessee, and, last night, in Grant Park where Barack Obama started this nation on a brand new journey that I hope will restore this country’s honor and reputation, both abroad and at home.

In a “breaking news” bulletin from Politico.com, I learned something that should be the last nail in the coffin of the GOP candidates’ race for the Presidency. The one-line bulletin read: “Alaska panel finds Sarah Palin abused power as Governor in firing of Commissioner.” The Commissioner in question in what has been dubbed Troopergate, was Walt Monegan, Public Safety Commissioner, whom Sarah Palin pressured to fire her ex-brother-in-law. When he would not, Palin fired Monegan.

To be fair, the ex-brother-in-law was not a model state trooper by any standards, unless drinking on the job and tasering one’s child is considered model behavior, but pressuring Walt Monegan to fire the ex-brother-in-law crossed the line, says the panel, and appears to have taken place for personal political reasons that were not related to his job performance. There were in-person visits from Todd (“the First Dude”) Palin and e-mail(s) and discussions to and with Monegan, all of them designed to get Walt Monegan to fire the ex-brother-in-law primarily because Governor Palin wanted him fired for her own personal reasons. At least, that is what the independent panel seems to be saying in its decision.

There are several things that this conviction should mean for any thinking voter.

First, Ms. Palin’s much-vaunted Republican credentials as a reformer battling corruption are in disarray. So much for going to Washington or Wasilla to “clean up corruption.” She’s going to end up like Edward Norton in “Fight Club,” fighting herself.

Second, the attacks on Obama saying he had not made “full disclosure” of every facet of his personal background, (such as very casual links to former Weatherman underground member Ayres or the indicted Tony Rezko) are undermined by the guilty verdict, as it appears that there are more skeletons in Palin’s closet than just the pregnancy of her teen-aged daughter.

And thirdly, and most importantly, Troopergate gives us a glimpse into the kind of executive Sarah Palin has been and would be, if elected to an even more consequential office than Governor of Alaska. She is the sort of chief executive who, according to John Bitney, a trusted aide and friend for 30 years who helped her win both the Mayor’s and Governor’s offices, can be capricious. Bitney said, “When she decides ‘you’re done,’ you’re done.” Bitney should know. He worked closely with Palin and was loyal to her, but he was called in and summarily fired because, post-divorce(s), he began dating the ex-wife of a friend of Todd Palin’s.

Said Bitney, in an article reported by Kenneth P. Vogel (“Politico.com,” 9/5/08), “I wanted to stay with the Governor and support the Governor. We’re talking about someone who’s been a friend for 30 years. But I understood and I have no ax to grind over the whole thing. Added Bitney, who, stealing a line from Elaine on the “Seinfeld” TV series said Palin is ‘a bad breaker-upper,” “Palin’s style is more dramatic than the way most executives do it. They bring you in, tell you they’re going to go in another direction and get everyone in the office to sign a card and cut a cake. But that’s just not her style.”

No, it certainly isn’t Ms. Palin’s style, as demonstrated by the guilty verdict in Troopergate and also in assorted other staff dealings.

According to Vogel, when Palin won the Wasilla Mayor’s post over three-time incumbent John Stein in 1996, 5 of 6 department heads had supported her opponent. Only 2 kept their jobs, and one who did, Duane Dvorak, left on his own 8 months later to become Kodiak Island Borough City Planner. Palin required the department heads she inherited from the outgoing Mayor to present her with a letter of resignation, a resume, and a letter explaining why they should be allowed to keep their jobs.

When Dvorak left under his own volition he described the work environment under Palin this way: “After all the excitement, I kind of felt like the ax could fall any time and just never felt like the situation warmed up.”

Not a great work environment, in my professional judgment as former CEO of two small businesses, but consistent with Palin’s later attempt to fire Mary Ellen Emmons, the library director. Ultimately, Emmons—who resisted efforts to purge the library of books Palin found objectionable—retained her position when Palin withdrew Emmons’ letter of termination, but as Palin told the Anchorage Daily News as to why she ultimately withdrew the termination notice after a public uproar: “You know in your heart when someone is supportive of you.” Palin certainly did do a lot of firing “from the heart,” so much so that the Wasilla local paper, the Frontiersman, dubbed the ongoing bloodbath “the Palin ax.”

Sarah Palin’s high-handed firing of those she felt were not supportive of her or those whom, like Police Chief Ira Stambaugh, she felt did not kow-tow enough to her during meetings, brought about a wrongful termination and dismissal lawsuit from the Police Chief. The real issues behind the firing were said to be the Police Chief’s support for a gun ban that the NRA opposed and the issue of bar hours in the town. He and Palin had differing points of view on the two issues, and soon Stambaugh was shoved towards the door.

A long-time supporter of Palin’s, then-Councilman Nick Carney, who owns a garbage removal company in Wasilla, convinced the then-28-year-old to run for Mayor in the first place. He knew Palin because she had played high school basketball on the same team as his daughter. As time went on and Palin’s management style became more apparent, Carney, along with Stein, threatened to lead a recall petition asking for Palin’s removal from office. Confirming Palin’s leadership style in office as a “take-no-prisoners” Bush-like system, Joe Johns characterized Palin on a CNN discussion on Friday night as “a hard-nosed Governor.”

The pick of Palin to be Vice President was always considered a “Hail Mary” pass from Republican Presidential candidate John McCain, facing uphill odds against the most unpopular President in history who has just concluded his 8 years in office by seemingly managing to ruin not only the United States economy, but the global economy (what will he do next?). The unprecedented economic melt-down is on top of the unwinnable Iraq conflict initiated by our invading the wrong country to seek justice after 9/11. We might wish to throw in the loss of our self-esteem abroad under “W”, since we now are a country that practices “extraordinary rendition,” established Guantanamo Bay, and perpetrated Abu Ghraib. With McCain’s 90+% approval rating for all of Bush’s proposed policies, it is fair to portray him as “Bush’s third term,” and do we, as a people, really want that? Do any of us want 4 or 8 more years of Bush’s bewildered and baffled leadership-via-VP?

Palin’s lackluster education, background, experience and, now, her temperament, all point to a woman who is not only unqualified by her relatively limited experience to be a heartbeat away from the Presidency. Now, with the Troopergate guilty verdict, Palin is further defined an individual who likes to throw her political weight around when it suits her purposes, using her clout to influence questions like, “What books should children be allowed to read?” or “How late should bars be allowed to stay open?” or “Should everyday citizens be allowed free access to firearms?” In the White House, those questions would become, “Who should serve on the Supreme Court and influence legal decisions for generations?” and “Should our country be allowed to find cures for diseases like diabetes and Parkinson’s Disease by far-reaching stem-cell research?” and “Is it ‘okay’ to destroy what few areas of natural beauty remain untouched in our country to drill for oil?” Let’s not forget that Palin fought the federal government against naming the Polar Bear an endangered species, because to have done so would have inhibited drilling in her home state of Alaska.

Tuckerman Babcock, mentioned in the Politico.com article by Vogel, was a long-time supporter of Ms. Palin, whose mother is Alaska State Senate President Lyda Green. Babcock was expecting to be rewarded for his loyalty to the woman-who-would-be-VP. That didn’t happen. Alaska State Senate President Green told the “Daily News”, ‘Palin is not prepared to be Governor. How can she be prepared to be Vice President or President?” Journalists from all over the globe have posed this question to me.

That has been the question of the hour ever since McCain threw that Hail Mary pass, and, the more information we gather, such as her latest conviction in Troopergate, simply emphasizes how accurate that assessment by Lyda Green was, then and now.

Bill Maher likened Palin to “Tickle Me Elmo” on his October 10^th “Real Time with Bill Maher” show. He actually said, out loud, what many have thought, privately, “Palin doesn’t know anything.” Andrew Halcro on Andrew Halcro.com said, “Walt Monegan was fired because he fought too hard. Governor Palin fired Monegan because she understood too little and wanted a puppet as commissioner. ” He added, “Walt Monegan got fired for all the wrong reasons. Walt Monegan got fired because he had the audacity to tell Governor Palin no, when apparently nobody is allowed to say no.”

This sounds like all too familiar political history;I can only hope that the Troopergate conviction in Alaska will send the “Disastah from Alaska” back to governing that remote state (and staring at Russia out her kitchen window), rather than eyeing the Oval Office.

After the McCain/Palin appearance at the Eastern Iowa Airport in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, residents hoped that the two Republican candidates for President and Vice President, respectively, would tour some of the flood-devastated areas of their fair city. Even if only symbolic, as was pointed out by a former Mayor of the City, Lee Clancey, a symbolic appearance from a President or a would-be President can do a lot to boost morale.

The appearance of Bill Clinton on the I-74 bridge during the Great Flood of 1993 was important to the masses. The appearance of Rudy Giuiliani after 9/11 was important in New York City. The appearance—or, in the case of Hurrican Katrina, non-appearance—of George W. Bush have been cited as, indeed, important, “symbolically.”

Said Clancey, “I think symbolism is very imporant.  It gives people hope that they’re still being considered and there might be help forthcoming.” Damage in Cedar Rapids was estimated to be $1.3 billiion dollars. Over 400 blocks of the downtown were under at least 8 feet of water, including one dramatic shot of the Czech Village Museum top completely inundated except for the very top cupola.

State Representative Kraig Paulsen (a Republican from Hiawatha) said, “My preference would be for every member of Congress, every member of the U.S. Senate and every member of the Legislature to coe over and visit. For whatever reason, they (McCain and Palin) decided not to do that.”

Former Republican Mayor Clancy said, “We have received very little attention and less help.”

I went directly from the Republican rally at the airport to the flood-devastated areas of the Czech Village, as well as the downtown area in the neighborhood of 2nd Street, to obtain these photos. I didn’t see any ‘tours” by important people taking place while I was walking the streets of the quaint Czech Village, which reminds of our Village of East Davenport.

As Joan Benda, a Republican who works for a property management company said, she wishes McCain had opted to spend time touring the damage from the flood.  “It would be nice, I guess, if he could at least do a drive-thruogh. I think the best way to trigger compassion is to actually see the damage.” During the speech at the airport (pictures also displayed), mention was made of a possible visit, but they sure weren’t at the Czech Village immediately after the appearance, because I was.

                                           More Chicago News
The Whole Foods store near Lincoln Park failed a Health Inspection test not once, but twice, in the past two days. The store was handing out $5 gift certificates to people who were being turned away by the closing, and one wag suggested that the mouse droppings the Health Inspectors had found could be “packaged nicely as a topping for toast points and get $10.99 per ounce.”

Apparently, not only was mouse poop found, but an actual mouse, caught in a trap. Gack! The store asked for a second inspection immediately, one occurred an MORE mouse poop was found. (Will the mouse poop never end?)

Also, the big news was nuts. Nuts as in Jesse Jackson’s comments about Barack Obama’s. See it on YouTube as Jesse whispers his derogatory comments. Jesse seems, to me, simply to be jealous that he is not in Obama’s shoes at this point.

On a sadder note, Officer Richard Francis was shot and killed in the line of duty on July 2, while struggling with an irate, 4-foot-11 inch woman who was allegedly causing a disturbance with a CTA bus passenger. The officer joins these others killed in the line of duty in Chicago:

• Aug. 15, 1998 – Michael Ceriale, on drug surveillance at a public housing complex.
• Jan. 9, 1999 – James Camp, shot with his own gun during a routine traffic stop.
• June 30, 2001 – Brian Strouse, who walked into an alley and identified himself as a police officer to a young man he encountered there.
• Aug. 19, 2001 – Eric Lee and two partners rushed to protect a transient being beaten by a man who then shouted, “F*** the police” and opened fire.
• March 18, 2002 – Donald Marquez, Sr. – while serving a 77-year-old man with a warrant for a housing code violation.

In the Quad Cities, Officer Tom Peterson was shot while attempting to serve a warrant on a suspect in the robbery of a convenience store in Watertown. His bulletproof vest saved his life, although some wounds are still healing slowly that he sustained beneath the vest and, I’m sure, he may be re-examining his choice of careers, as are others who knew Officer Richard Francis, who, from all accounts, was a model police officer, working alone in a squad car at the time of his death.

Director Marina Zenovich has made a documentary film that takes a look back at the sensational Roman Polanski trial for having sex with a then 13-year-old girl. The film, produced by Steven Soderbergh, among others, is amazing in that it gets most of the principals to comment, although, in some cases, the commentary is not to Zenovich, directly, but through other interviews Polanski has given since fleeing the country and taking up residence in France. The title refers to the fact that Polanski is idolized and desired in his adopted homeland of France, while, in the United States, he is still, technically, a fugitive from justice who is “wanted.”

HBO, ThinkFilm, a film by Graceful Presents, the BBC and Antidote Films all receive a credit, and the actual alleged rape victim (who publicly forgave Polanski in 1997), Samantha, Gailey (Geimer) is interviewed onscreen at several points.

Polanski’s main defense attorney, the Lincoln-esque Douglas Dalton, is quoted (today) saying, “What actually happened to the system of justice. I remain flabbergasted after all these years.” Roger Gunson, who, at the time, was the 37-year-old Mormon prosecution attorney, also seems to feel that the chief judge in the case, one Lawrence J. Rittenband, the Senior Judge in Santa Monica, mishandled the case because he wanted to “choreograph” the outcome to enhance his own love of the limelight. Judge Rittenband would constantly send the two opposition attorneys into the courtroom and tell them to play out a little drama according to a script he provided them that would enhance his (the Judge’s) reputation, in return for certain concessions towards one side or the other.

Of course, the fact that Polanski did admit to having had sex with a then-13-year-old girl is brushed over lightly. The fact that he did not view it as a “crime” is, indirectly, laid at the doorstep of his checkered past and his upbringing in Europe, a country which has a far less Puritanical view of sex than the United States. Nevertheless, Polanski’s admssion to intercourse with the then-13-year-old school girl, Samantha Gailey, whom he had been hired to photograph as part of a series on beautiful young girls from around the world, by Vanity Fair seems to be regarded as a “crime” only by a minority of district attorneys and a couple of police officers, who speak of it as likely to draw years in prison for the ordinary citizen

Mia Farrow, speaking of Polanski’s childhood in Poland, when Nazis killed his mother in the gas chamber and when he also lost his father, a childhood he drew upon in making the Academy Award-winning film “The Piano,” says, onscreen, “He didn’t have the blueprint for life that others had.” She remembers Polanski as “Completely infectious” and points out that, after a rough childhood, he thought he had finally found stability in his marriage to actress Sharon Tate, only to have the Manson Clan murder the pregnant actress, her companions and their unborn son, who would have been thirty, today.

(*It is interesting to learn that Polanski, now 74, has been married for 18 years and has 2 children, and that the then-13-year-old victim has also been married for 18 years and has 3 children.)

Both attorneys, the defense and the prosecution, agree that Polanski’s flight from the country was not surprising, given the Judge’s flamboyant behavior. At one point, the comment is made that it was “very unfortunate to have a judge who misused justice” and Polanski, himself, in an interview, says that the Judge toyed with him, like a cat with a mouse, for over a year. There is even a short film illustrating this capricious behavior, with Polanski made to dance while a look-alike for the Judge bangs a drum and shouts orders for him to do this or do that.

The prosecuting attorney, whom the filmmakers compared to a young Robert Redford look-alike, says that he noticed, when researching Polanski through his films at the New Art Theater Polanski Film Festival, which happened to be showing in the area at the time, that all his films involved “corruption-meets-innocence-over-water” and that the nude shots of the young Samantha in the Jacuzzi at Jack Nicholson’s home (Nicholson was out of town, at the time; the use of his home next to Marlon Brando’s house for the tryst supposedly contributed to the break-up of Nicholson’s relationship with his then live-in, Angelica Huston, who was not amused) fit this profile. Prosecuting attorney Roger Gunson thought he could make a case out of that, alone, and, when the young girl’s semen-stained panties surfaced, and were divided between prosecution and defense teams (actual description here of 7 men cutting the panties in half), plea bargains were discussed by the defense team that had previously been disinterested in same.

Polanski’s attitude throughout seemed to be, “Yes, I had sex with a 13-year-old. So what?” It seems to have been established that Samantha was not a virgin and that both individuals had consumed champagne and shared a Quaalude before what Polanski called consensual sex, but which the prosecution termed rape and sodomy. Other charges involving giving a minor illegal substances were dropped, in exchange for Polanski’s plea to the main charge of having sex with a female, not his wife, whom he knew to be 13 years old at the time.

From that point on, things began to go south for Polanski and his case. For one thing, the murder of his wife Sharon Tate was constantly brought up, and the film “Rosemary’s Baby,” in which a young wife is raped by the devil after being tied down, seemed to make a case for Polanski’s willingness to force sex upon an unwilling partner.

When Polanski was allowed to travel out of the country on 90 day “passes” to complete a film he was directing, a friend somehow talked him in to attending Oktoberfest in Munich. A snapshot taken of him seated between two young girls seems to have enraged the judge and caused the judge to decide to welch on deals made, informally, that would have allowed Polanski to serve only probation and the 42 days he was sentenced to Chino for psychiatric observation, where the state’s shrink pronounced him “congenial, but reserved” and said he was not a Mentally Disturbed Sex Offender.

Polanski, himself, admits, early on, “I like young women.” He goes on to say that he thinks most men do. He also comments, at one point, in the face of criticism of his actions following Sharon Tate’s brutal murder by the Manson Family members that, “My real problems started with the murder of Sharon Tate,” and that “Different people have different ways of dealing with life and grief.  Some go to monasteries. Some start visiting whorehouses.” Even his friends admitted that Polanski was a genial host who “liked to be the center of it all.” His romance with Nastassia Kinski when she was only 15, whom he also photographed, was well documented before the charges made against him in California.

Some questioned why Susie Gailey, the young girl’s mother, would allow her under-age daughter to go off, alone, with Polanski, saying, “This was a guy that had a pretty wild reputation.”  The victim, herself, said, “I had to worry about surviving the next day (at school). You can’t stop it, once it starts.” She seems to wish that her mother had not brought the charges against Polanski and that none of the ensuing publicity had ever occurred. Polanski, himself, rails against the press in interviews, at one point saying, “In general, I despise the press because of their inaccuracy and their deliberate cruelty.” References were made to articles printed after Sharon Tate’s brutal murder that accused Polanski, himself, of having flown back to the United States, committed the murders, and then left again. This, of course, was tantamount to punishing the victim and somehow blaming the victims for the crimes committed against them. Those close to the director spoke of his dark, sad, veiled side, his strong vision of death and sadness, his brushes with life and death, but his ability to prevail, despite much grief.

Polanski, himself, in dining with an interviewer in Europe, asks him, near the end of the interview to tell him this, “You think there’s something more to my life than my relationship with young women?” Obviously, the French do, as they made him a member of the Academie Francaise, and the President of the Academie Francaise, Arnand d’Hailtervilla, “He is one of us…”

Polanski faced anywhere from 6 months to 50 years in prison in the U.S., after the Judge became piqued at the photo of Polanski frolicking in Germany, and a year in the county jail was also a possibility, along with deportation. Polanski, who was, at the time, remaking “The Hurricane” for Dino De Laurent is Productions out of the country, chose to flee rather than endure more of the “toying” with him that he maintained the judge was doing. Before his troubles began, he was much sought after in the fast track of Hollywood society, and loved California, saying, “Everything is easy here (in Los Angeles). Everything is accessible in this town.” Everything except underage girls, apparently.

A distraught Polanski, speaking to the press after Sharon Tate’s massacre, called their time together, “The only time of true happiness in my life” and appeared about to break down in tears. A friend who was with him when he received the news of the killings on the phone from his agent Bill Tennent, reports, “I saw someone just disintegrate in front of my eyes. He was devastated.”

The documentary is definitely sympathetic to Polanski’s side. The question of whether the average male in America (of any ethnicity) would simply walk away with “probation” after giving drugs to an underage 13-year-old and having sex with her, if he weren’t rich and able to pay for the very best attorneys, is not addressed. The “double standard” between the European view of sex and America’s Puritanical view of sex is addressed peripherally. The verdict on whether a penalty greater than 42 days of being “evaluated” by a psychiatrist at Chino (California) is appropriate for the charges levied is still out.

Polanski’s friends from the swinging sixties before the murder of his wife appear to still be his friends, and his work such as “The Piano” produced after he fled the United States speaks to his continuing undiminished talent as a director

When the judge assigned to the case displays scrapbooks of his high-profile celebrity cases (the Presley divorce, Cary Grant), the public is right to wonder if this was the most famous judge fiasco since Judge Ito and the O.J. trial, decades later. However, the question still remains as to whether celebrities receive a special “pass” in court, when compared to the rank-and-file of Americans charged with the same crime.

Party Unity the Word for Democrats Today

I saw part of a speech given by Barack Obama from New Hampshire today, with Hillary Clinton standing there lending moral support. It was the usual outstanding speechifying from the electrifying Obama, and Hillary did her pant suited best to look enthusiastic. (It is said that Bill could only manage a written “endorsement” of the party nominee, but I saw a picture of the two of them, together, looking cozy, somewhere.)

Now begins the character assassination and the jockeying for power and all the rest of it.

I was called to attend a “meeting of interest” to be held at someone’s office. When I asked what the “order of business” was to be, the person calling me (who had been quite insistent that I call her back, even though I had to call long distance, at the time) said that she was trying to organize a “demonstration” that would highlight John McCain’s ties to Big Oil. This would involve being out in the streets with placards, as I understood it.

I don’t go out in the street with placards until I know the entire fact(s) of a situation. I have protested in the streets at least three times, but I need to know the facts of what I am protesting and be pretty honked off about it before I carry paper and wood into battle. I had just done a big piece on the Second Coming of John McCain, for www.jollyjo.com. Admittedly, I was not looking for ties to Big Oil, but, to me, far more dangerous for us are McCain’s ties to war and warlike behavior.

Anyone who had the childhood nickname “McNasty” because he loved to pick fights, who once had a fight on the Senate floor with Strom Thurmond (of all people), whose great ancestors fought on the Confederate side during the Civil War (from Mississippi) and whose grandfather and father commanded the Pacific fleets during two different wars (WWII and Vietnam) has far bigger things to protest there than whether he took money from Big Oil. It is my guess that EVERY BODY took some money from Big Oil.

After careful consideration, I did not attend said meeting, I’m in the Quad Cities about half of the time, and I don’t want to spend it carrying a sign that may (or may not) be true around in the street, protesting something that may (or may not) be true.

When “W” was getting ready to launch all-out war against Iraq and everybody thought that was a hunky-dory idea, THEN I protested. When we needed to get out of Vietnam (1965) THEN I protested (on 2 college campuses). Is it necessary for me to carry a sign linking John McCain to Big Oil on a busy street at this time in history? Methinks not. I will do far better writing about it…if it is true…on this blog, which I promise you will happen, sooner or later.

The stock market plunged a great deal today. It recouped slightly by the end of the day, but it is scary to think of all the controls that have been lifted that would (possibly) prevent another “crash” of the stock market, such as occurred during my father and mother’s lifetime. My father (a banker) predicted a Depression would occur for years and, Dad, if you’re looking down from heaven, you may just be right. If this isn’t a full-out Depression, it sure is beginning to feel like something close.