Showdown at the GOP Corral

Elephant getting restless.. Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

I had a decent blog topic for today, but current events have pushed that one out. Today I’d like to talk about current political events since they’ve taken some unusual turns..

Grand Old Party

In my long memory, the GOP never seemed much like the party of Lincoln.. black Americans have voted Democrat since at least the days of Franklin Roosevelt. Wealthy people and business men seemed to have the biggest lock on the Republican Party. Up until the mid-1960’s, the GOP was the gathering place of WASPy, protestant, middle-to-upper crust men. These were men most concerned about inheritance tax, capital gains and interest rates. These were pallid, fiduciary men -- not heated by the fires of race and religion. These pallid men I dub the GOP “patrician elite”.

LBJ SENDS RED MEAT THE GOP WAY

In 1965, LBJ signed the Civil Rights Act. While signing, he said as an aside, “There goes the South”. And he was right. Starting with the 1968 Presidential election, the “red meat” Southerners migrated over to the GOP, in droves. The migration was complete by 1972 when George McGovern’s liberal campaign suffered a huge, humiliating defeat. The GOP had acquired the Angry Southerner. While not adhering so much to Southern issues, the GOP Elite loved having the extra votes. What could they to do accommodate their newest party members and make them feel welcomed?

RED MEAT REPUBLICANS

Red meat Republicans and the Elite share a lot of similar views, but with entirely different emphasis. These are major care-abouts for the largely blue collar, lower middle class red meats:

1. Abortion / Planned Parenthood
2. Gay marriage / Gays in the military
3. Freedom of Religious Expression / Freedom to post the 10 Commandments
4. NRA / Right to bear arms including machine guns
5. Immigration
6. Low taxes

On this whole list, the only ones that grip the heart of a Yale Man are items 5 and 6. The others, not so much. On number 5, the red meats and elite are in direct conflict with each other.

THROW THEM A BONE

For 40 years, the elite have played on the emotions of the red meat.. Beware of gun-confiscating, lesbian, secular humanists! Listen to Jerry Falwell! Phony liberal bogeymen were summoned forth through all the years to scare blue collar people to the polls. Downplay anything that might be an actual conflict.. The fact that Walmart Stores and Gemcraft homes love the cheap labor of Mexican immigrants was kept hushed and subdued – like the drinking habits of a favorite uncle.

Truth be – Elite Republicans align more with Democrats in many ways. They think abortion is sad and regrettable, not necessarily immoral. They don’t celebrate in a Gay Pride event but avail themselves of gay catering and gay style sense. They worship in the Episcopal Church, but refrain from public proselyting – perceived as an exercise in tasteless yelling. The Elite might shoot skeet or fish, but they don’t have firearms as a major life factor or concern.

FRANKENSTEIN, ARISE!

This game has worked extremely well since 1972. In 2004, Howard Dean marveled at how a certain demographic (red meat) is primarily concerned with “Guns, Gays and God”. In so many ways, across so many days this strategy worked .. until international terrorism raised its ugly head. Suddenly the red meat contingent has a bone to pick with one of the bones it was thrown. They have a serious problem with immigration policy and are lining up behind the likes of Trump and Cruz. Trump and Cruz are the anti-Elite and frightening specters to anyone from the GOP Old Guard.

GOP CIVIL WAR

In truth, the GOP is two very different groups – it’s an awkward marriage of convenience. Bubba doesn’t care about derivatives or capital gains. He cares about the Three G’s above. Reginald from Yale doesn’t get any major upset from God, gays or guns. But he becomes excitable if we start talking about Visa expirations and deportation of illegals. What happens to the nanny, the yard crew and the H1B staff at the office? This blog author doesn’t know how it ends. It may be Credence Clearwater's Bad Moon Arisin’ – a storm of epic proportions yet to play out. This is what happens when you play with fire – it’s only remarkable that a fuse in this case took 50 years to ignite.

© 2015 Snillor Productions

Metropolis Revisited

Robot temptress.. Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

TODAY

Today is a crisp, chilly 44 degrees with a deceptively bright, blue sky. Kind of invigorating really as a crowded White Rock suggests. I’m now at Arboretum Starbucks, enjoying my Thanksgiving week off.

CLASSIC SCI-FI

I recently watched a classic sci-fi movie, and actually one considered to be the first feature length film of that genre. Directed by Fritz Lang, Metropolis was filmed in 1925 at Babelsberg Studio in Germany. Considering the year was 1925, some of the special effects are remarkable. The movie, which is silent with captions, even has a fusion of live action and animation that has characterized much later films.

Metropolis took so long to package and edit, it wasn’t released until 1927 at which point talkies had made their debut. The film had elaborate sets and was the most expensive production to that date. It was a commercial-critical dud partly because of its timing. Decades later, the movie was rediscovered for its huge contribution to the sci-fi concept.

The movie depicts a future society in a highly industrialized city (“Metropolis”). Peon factory workers are imprisoned in a subterranean factory setting while a rich elite lives in the ultramodern towers above. It appears (my interpretation) that the workers are cloned offspring of the elite, born to do their bidding. Freder, a scion of the elite falls in love with Maria, a factory wench. Maria also sidelines as an evangelist, urging the workers to seek independence.

Freder’s father has a mad scientist kidnap Maria and project her physical appearance onto a robot creation. Then, the robot is programmed to deceive Maria’s followers, leading them far astray into a life of mindless decadence. I won’t give away the rest of the plot, although it’s safe to say that good wins over evil in the end.

RECEPTION

Critics at the time panned the movie for being a simplistic morality tale (which let’s be honest – it was). Robot Maria’s plunge into decadence had her appearing as an erotic dancer in an adult cabaret. The dance numbers are stunning though some of the facial expressions are comically exaggerated probably owing to a lack of sound as a method of conveyance. The movie seemed to caution against madcap dancing and drinking – even while making it a prominent attraction in the film. The screenplay was written by Lang’s wife, Thea Von Harbou. Her gift of plot structure was not on a par with George Lucas by any means.

TECHIE COOL STUFF

The movie had ultra-modern cityscapes and cars streaming through tubular connected bridges. Freder’s father used video teleconference to reach underlings. The laboratory of the mad scientist had all manner of lightning bolts and energy streams zapping Maria’s visage over to a metallic robot. Some of this is pretty cool even now. I don’t think Star Wars or Total Recall have exceeded the total vision of Fritz Lang circa 1925.

I watched the movie wondering how it played to Weimar Germans of the day, who were still smarting from World War I and flirting with Nazism. The dystopian, monolithic themes must have registered in some way. The Nazi state buildings of the 1930’s almost seem to have the soaring majesty of a Fritz Lang set.

If you have time to kill, this movie is a good way to kill it. One note – the movie was highly censored, edited and even butchered by morality police of the era. Whole sections were cut, so the captions are sometimes paragraphs to explain weird transitions and gaps. Still, it sort of flows. And still, it's a fascinating piece of cinema.

© 2015 Snillor Productions

Rescuing the Dukes

Southern folk we like .. Poster courtesy of Wikipedia

by Trebor Snillor
Today

We actually have a “heat dome” over North Texas and sunny blue skies. Now that the heat is unrelenting I’m wondering if I wouldn’t like some cloud cover after all. I’m going for a walk in Las Colinas with a friend this afternoon so I need to double up on the SPF.

Miscellaneous other

I was appalled that Donald Trump led in the GOP polls for the last week.. The man is truly a train wreck and even many of his fellow Republicans can see that. Yesterday he essentially insulted all veterans by saying that John McCain was not a war hero. Let’s hope that one comment is enough to end his juggernaut. His die hard supporters should be ashamed of Trump’s pettiness and move their support to a serious contender.

Sanitizing the South?

Since the huge brouhaha around the Confederate Flag, the Legions of Political Correctness have taken aim at everything Confederate or Southern. There is talk in Dallas of renaming Robert E Lee Park and Stonewall Jackson Elementary. The Lee statue (dedicated by FDR in 1937) has even been vandalized. I have some comments about all the wrongness here. First of all, vigilantism and vandalism are never a good approach. If you don’t like the statue you should work through government – don’t turn yourself into a graffiti artist.

I’m also reminded of a local movement to remove the word “nigger” from school editions of Tom Sawyer. This kind of literary cleansing actually does something opposite of its intent – it takes away race as a relevant topic. It imposes a cloak of silence over what should be very much reviewed, discussed and understood. It’s a close relative to book burning.

I’m reminded of ISIS tearing down ancient “pagan” statues or Soviet GOSPLAN members renaming St. Petersburg to Leningrad. Such arrogant cultural cleansings do way more harm than good.. they create fissures and resentments that invite a future reckoning. We should never try to pave over things that are troubling or divisive in our collective past – we should remember where we came from.

Baby versus Bathwater

And where does the denial stop? There are many Old South symbols – Aunt Jemima Pancakes, mint julips, Tara-style mansions, and even expressions like “Lawd have mercy”. I’m of southern heritage and I indulge frequently in my Southern peccadillos. I also vote Democratic and I’m decidedly left of center. Don’t anyone deny me of a “Dukes of Hazard” episode or a pecan pie while figuring out which Southern tropes and symbols to stomp on. Some of it like “Dukes of Hazard” has a self-knowing parody at work anyway. They aren’t writing a Boss Hogg recommendation.

Everyone get a grip – listen to “That’s What I Like about the South”. We are keeping the magnolias and the azaleas along with sweet tea, Tex Mex and chicken fried steak. Resident Yankees should know where the EXIT door is if they want to squelch everything Confederate. Surprise – I can make all the relevant distinctions thank you.

© 2015 Snillor Productions

Heeere's Johnny

Sad Clown - Pic courtesy of Wikipedia

by Trebor Snillor
Today I had a TimeOn day off, but was snowed in. Dallas has had horrible winter weather all week. My house is extra drafty due to the fact that my kitchen is under construction. “This too shall pass”. ..We can only hope that is true.

On Netflix, I watched a biographical documentary on Johnny Carson, the King of Late Night. There is a lot to cover about this enigmatic man – “the most famous man in America”. I’ll cover some major points, keeping in mind a book would be needed to do justice. (And one was recently a best-seller).

Rocket Man

Johnny came from a wholesome Middle America home in Norfolk, Nebraska. He was a middle child and felt a little bit overlooked by his parents, especially his mom. He got his good looks and sense of humor from her, but she openly admitted that she favored the eldest daughter. (“Daughters are more fun”). Much of his early extroversion was partly to win back her love and approval.

Like many famous people, Johnny was on a “rocket to the moon” already by the time he was in junior high. He liked being a center of attention – he developed a magic act to be on stage. He also acted in school plays. By the time he was in college, an entrepreneurial bent was clear; he rented his car to frat brothers for 25 cents/hour. He quickly progressed to being a radio DJ and announcer, still as an undergraduate.

After Carson served a stint in the Navy, he came back and found his way back into radio. From there. He segued into television. In fact, he had one of the very first TV shows, Carson’s Cellar. He was chagrined when it was canceled after 39 episodes – this would be just about his only career stumble, ever. He became a writer for Red Skelton and was occasionally on TV himself. He guested on the Jack Benny Show and was already a household name at age 30. From ‘57-’62 he hosted Who Do You Trust with sidekick Ed McMahon. The two men would be a comedy duo for 35 years to come.

Jack Paar Replacement

In 1962, Jack Paar left The Tonight Show, fairly suddenly (in a bit of a huff). Johnny’s second wife, Joanne Copeland was connected in the TV industry and got NBC to offer him the gig. He initially said no, thinking he was no intellectual match to Paar. Paar had turned the show into a witty political salon in previous years. Even after succumbing to pressure and taking the job, industry pundits were skeptical about whether he would last. “He’s no Jack Paar” they intoned.

King of Late Night

It turns out that he was quite a bit more than Paar.. Johnny had the flexibility to be clown, straight man, ad man, student, actor or whatever a situation required. He was convivial, gracious and made his guests look good. He could touch on politics (a la Paar) but was also a very gifted stand-up comedian. He could cross over between topics and soon became late night solid gold. He had it “made in the shade” after about 1 season – his popularity was fairly instant and ubiquitous. The rest is legend – I’ll proceed to his personal life..

Sad King Midas

The bio I was watching was made in 2012. Many people close to Carson (2nd wife, Doc Severinsen, staff writers, etc) painted a picture different from the All-American success story. Easier to cover this in bulleted format:

o Carson was married 4 times. The first 3 wives all complained that he was married to his career and was at times unfaithful.
o His son Rick told Doc, “I wish my Dad liked me as much as you do”. Apparently his relationship was strained with all 3 sons.
o Doc said that Carson intimidated him in person and it was hard to get comfortable with him.
o Writer Al Jean said that no one really knew Carson. All you ever had was some aspect of his public veneer.
o Carson wasn’t even that close to sidekick McMahon. He had producers tell McMahon to dial it back at a point when Johnny felt Ed was stepping on punch lines and horning in. The implication was clear to Ed – cease or find a new job.
o Carson got cross-ways with his longtime business manager Bushkin. There was a pattern of Carson living in a virtual fortress – he eventually had trust issues with much of his inner circle.
o Jokes were made of Ed’s drinking, but Johnny actually had the drinking issue. He would become angry when he drank and have to be rescued from various situations.

Conclusion

Carson was a complex man, a complex picture. He was America’s “comedy Walter Cronkite” but he was also a man with intimacy, trust and probably Mother issues. Doc says that Carson never completely recovered from his adult son’s fatal car accident circa 1990. He carried a quiet sadness after that. Whenever we think someone is “living the dream” you never know what demons might have knocked at their door. Carson was the King of Late Night but he was also all too real in so many ways – really one of us.

© 2015 Snillor Productions

A Building for the Modern Age

Every building should tell a story - Pic courtesy of Wikipedia

by Trebor Snillor
Today it is muggy and warm. It rained earlier and the humid air gives me an all-over sticky feeling. My yard is very happy so I’ll try to be OK with it.

My blog topic today is of minor historical and cultural note -- I speak of none other than the Empire State Building in Manhattan that I visited in 1998. My thoughts about the building are not especially structured so I’ll just throw out some bulleted observations..

o The 103-story 1931 tower is an outstanding example of art deco. It has a more commanding presence than really any other New York building.
o It’s one of the tallest structures in midtown so it stands out sharply.
o It was built in 410 days, a schedule that would be daunting even now.
o It cost $40,948,000 even in depression-era dollars.
o The building was a culmination of roaring-20’s confidence but was completed just as the depression started.
o Its many vacant floors resulted in the nickname “Empty State Building”.
o The building has starred in 3 famous movies -- King Kong, An Affair to Remember and Sleepless in Seattle.
o It was included as one of the Seven Wonders of the World -- and still is a huge tourist draw in New York.
o It’s not the newest, tallest or most expensive building even in New York.. but it’s an almost universal reference point for “tall modern skyscraper”.

Just as with people, it stands as proof that style, stance and perseverance are just about as important as anything else. At least for the lasting impression.

Let's consider -- what is a famous tall building anywhere in Texas? We have some, and a commercial real estate agent would be glad to point you towards Thanksgiving or Reunion Towers in downtown Dallas. We have historically great structures like San Antonio’s Alamo and Austin’s Capitol Building.. But nothing -- absolutely nothing in Texas projects the midcentury can-do confidence of Manhattan’s art deco tour de force. The embossed mural on the ground floor tells the story of technological victory in Modern Times - a miracle decade of jazz music, skyscrapers, sports cars, flappers and all that man can do in his pursuit of business or pleasure.

Could the Empire State Building be built ever again in Texas or New York? Let’s say a modern 21st century facsimile? Let me count the ways and reasons not ..

o Real estate investors wouldn’t want to cede an entire city block for one building.
o Since 9/11 tall buildings are considered a security risk.
o Tall buildings might also be considered non-ecological.
o We live in an age of muted, me-too architecture -- a building which proclaims itself or emblazons a confident story would be considered too cocky and overconfident. -- politically incorrect.

Ask yourself -- what’s the last nice, new public building you entered in the USA? You probably said, “This is OK”... nothing like “Let me get a picture… Let me post this on Facebook”. There are some exceptions to my architectural critique although few and far between. The Getty Museum in LA is a stand-out. But much as I earlier described 2014 cars as bland “competent boxes”, I could use the identical words to describe new buildings in 2014. In closing, let us pay homage to the place and the time that gave us an American symbol, a true wonder of the world -- the Empire State Building.

Addendum 5/11/14 -- It's funny to note that The Mindy Project just did an entire show based around the Empire State Building in last week's episode. It's part of our national lexicon -- we can't get away from it. :-)

© 2014 Snillor Productions

Behind Frame 313

Moments after the kill shot - Pic courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
MACABRE MEMORIAL

We’re approaching the 50th anniversary of the JFK assassination, and I can’t help but mull over various things about it. When I saw Oliver Stone’s JFK in 1992, I was certain Stone was on to something. I’ve since decided his conspiracy idea is frenzied and has too many moving parts. I more recently saw Parkland, a somber retelling of known events, and it introduced some questions without getting as complex as a John Grisham novel.

GOING WITH A LONE GUNMAN ..

I think Oswald was neck deep in whatever happened -- there’s too much to suggest otherwise. On the morning of November 22nd, a coworker saw him go to the 6th floor of the School Depository with “curtain rods” wrapped in paper. He was seen leaving the building mere seconds before Dallas Police sealed the exits, minutes after the killing. My questions are about background and motive.. Here are some troubling Oswald questions.

1) Oswald renounced the USA and defected to Russia. While in Russia, he was given a cush job (by Soviet standards) and a nice apartment although it was heavily bugged. Mere months later he was readmitted to the USA and even given a repatriation loan of nearly $500. Why did either nation treat him with such kid gloves? This was the height of the cold war -- why was Oswald let back into the USA?

2) To time and stage the assassination would take planning and coordination. Oswald, who had a very poor record of work, just happened to get a job at the Depository in October 1963, working on the upper floors. That was one month after JFK’s travel plans had been publicized and one month before JFK’s murder. Oswald was not a very bright man.. It’s not impossible that he would have such foresight and awareness to plan everything, but it seems unlikely.

3) Oswald’s mother and wife were both of the firm impression that he was an operative working for the US government. Why did they believe this? It’s not necessarily the truth, but they somehow came away with this idea. Out of the mouths of babes come significant truths, and maybe the same can be said for snoopy, eavesdropping relatives. As previously mentioned, Oswald wasn’t a Rhodes Scholar -- he probably didn’t have all his cards concealed.

4) Why did Jack Ruby (a nightclub owner with mob ties) sacrifice his own life and livelihood to perform vigilante justice on a man who was already arrested and likely to see death row? What was possibly gained by that? In the Oliver Stone line of bizarre facts, Ruby died 3 years later from sudden onset lung cancer right before he was to testify. Ruby thought he had been injected with a chemical.

5) What would have been Oswald’s motive to kill Kennedy? As a self-professed “Marxist” (very intentional air quotes) he should’ve liked the fact that Kennedy was backing off of Cuba and suggesting a scale-back in Viet Nam. There is no meaningful motive that could be given to this assassination. Oswald was something of a patsy even before the assassination -- but he wasn’t mentally ill and wouldn’t have done something completely nonsensical. At least not by himself.

In a final analysis, I have to agree with John Kerry’s recent remarks .. I think Oswald was hugely implicated. He may have even been a lone gunman if by lone gunman you mean the one person who actually pulled a trigger. Was he aided, abetted, given cues and instructions by someone else? That also seems very likely to me. Kerry suggested it might’ve been the Cubans. I think Oswald’s crackpot mother (who died in 1981) might have some insights to give. So might J Edgar Hoover but it seems everyone we need to talk to is dead.

© 2013 blogSpotter

Das Ende

The final days  - Pic courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter

In 1970,  a crew of Soviet KGB workers unearthed the remains of several charred bodies in Magdeberg, East Germany.   The bodies were those of Adolph Hitler, his wife Eva Braun, and the entire family of Joseph Goebbels.  The KGB incinerated the bodies and scattered the ashes in the Elbe River.   The corpses were a grim memento from the maniacal dictator’s last stand in the “Fuhrerbunker” some 25 years earlier.   Hitler was worried that his body would be desecrated like Mussolini and bade his henchmen to dispose of the bodies quietly.   Hitler and Braun had planned their suicides a month prior (his with a gun, hers via cyanide).

Such a sad demise in a dark, secluded bunker … what were the events that led up to this act of dismal self-dispatch on April 30, 1945?   The seeds of defeat were planted four years earlier, according to many historians.   It seems Hitler, who already had his hands full with Eastern Europe, decided to launch a full-scale attack on Russia – disregarding the Hitler-Stalin Non-Aggression Act of 1939.  Hitler diverted troops from the Moscow Initiative over to Leningrad and Kiev..against the advice of his generals.  Moscow took full advantage of this ill conceived fan-out and Axis soldiers took major casualties as a result.

Of note – Germany's prowess was already starting to be compromised before the USA even entered the war.  Hitler grossly underestimated the power of Russia and it was the beginning of the end.  A “take Russia lightly” turning point came in 1943 when Hitler refused to pull back from Stalingrad.  435,000 German troops were killed or captured.  Again, Hitler had gone against the advice of his top commanders.  He further exhausted Germany’s resources with his horrific Holocaust.  In addition to killing millions of innocents, the death camps tied up rail road lines and resources that were badly needed elsewhere in Germany’s war effort.

Rather than learn from his mistakes or eat humble pie, Hitler became more paranoid and deluded. He lashed out at his generals and had nay-sayers (what few there were) shot.  His vile behavior is in fact the very basis for over-the-top James Bond villains and even the tongue-in-cheek Dr. Evil in the Austin Powers franchise.    It’s suspected that Hitler suffered from untreated Parkinson’s disease which may have impaired him physically and mentally.  Not everyone in German society was a “willing executioner”.  A few conscionable men knew that he was deranged and Hell-bound.  Several assassination attempts were made (e.g., Operation Valkyrie)  but nothing succeeded and people involved were summarily executed.

Das Ende

By April 1945, the gig was pretty well up.   Hitler ordered Albert Speers to destroy German factories as part of a scorched earth plan.. Speers quietly ignored the order.  Hitler ordered General Steiner to lead a “northern flank” attack – this at a point when Russia was already surrounding Berlin.  Steiner refused.  Goring perceived that Hitler was dead or out-of-pocket and declared himself the Fuhrer.  This enraged Hitler but he was helpless to exact much revenge.  All was for naught – the Russians were closing in.  At a point when the Russians were a block away from Hitler’s bunker, Hitler and Eva committed suicide.  They had already made detailed plans for how and when it would be done. 

POST MORTEM

Hitler was (in previous lives) a watercolorist, a homeless shelter habitué and an enlisted man.  He was a man steeped in extreme prejudice and chauvinism.   Why did Germany, a European country with such a noble history of philosophy and art, put its faith in such an unaccomplished, racist person?  Germans might have likened his humble beginnings to those of America’s Abraham Lincoln, but Lincoln was noble and emancipating – he sought to share the power not take it away. It gives us reason to wonder – could Hitler happen again or happen here?   We have to hope that we have safeguards in America that would keep it from ever happening.  Reviewing the last days of the Fuhrerbunker we see a gray, gritty picture of what happens when reality intrudes on a nation’s psychotic fever dream, when a nation puts all of its hopes in one very deluded, diminished man.

© 2013 blogSpotter

A Retro Gallery

by blogSpotter
Welcome to my pop culture photo gallery. These are four favorite, iconic images from the 1960’s (Although the Hey Jude album cover might technically qualify as 1970). I’m in my mid-50’s and probably trapped in a time warp of decades past. But as I look with weary boredom at our boxy, blandified, silver-gray Twitter/Tweet world I long for a past where we were heroically bold and beautiful. Let me share my 4 objets d'art and say why I like each. There may be some critical remarks that contrast these images to the world of 2012...

Marilyn, the Last Sitting
This picture was taken by Bert Stern in June 1962. It captures "latter day" Marilyn who was probably more grounded by life events at this point. She was trying to project sexuality for the photographer but sadness and an inner light came through instead. To people who think that Marilyn consisted mostly of blonde hair and red lips, you've missed the essentials completely. Nobody has captured her essence since her passing... a beautiful soul is difficult to mimic cosmetically.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the Movie
This movie about the 1880 outlaws was primarily a work of fiction, featuring two of the most fabulous actors in their prime -- created by an "outlaw" pop culture which was also arguably in its late-60's prime. The ultimate cool of this pairing is hard to describe -- it's the intersection of machismo, humor and bromance. If I had to think of a modern comparison I might summon Robert Downey and Jude Law in the Sherlock Holmes series. But it's not the same -- the moment has lost some of its historically-based magic.

The Beatles, Hey Jude album cover
I absolutely love this picture, taken shortly before the Beatles disbanded. In their early 30's, they weren't trying to fit a marketing image or be cute in any way. They were counterculture heroes making a quiet transition from the day-glo uniforms of Sergeant Pepper or the hippie nehru jackets worn for an Indian guru. Their new look in this picture is one that is timelessly awesome, unselfconscious and a little bit Ralph Waldo Emerson. I challenge any one of us and three friends to look this iconoclastically good.

Pontiac GTO, 1969
Who said I can't mix in some apples with my oranges? I think that 1968-1969 was the pinnacle of American car style. As I look at the current econo-boxes that we drive in silver and black, I long for the days when cars had style and energy. Cars of today have the excitement of a kitchen appliance or a toaster oven. Yes -- they are safe, ecological and have On-Star. They also will bore the socks of someone like me who remembers the bad old days.

There is my gallery, very briefly. It could really have a thousand more pictures -- I left out the Rolling Stones and Olds Cutlass. If you're under 30, you'd probably beg to differ, you might even suggest that I didn't finish my prune danish this morning. What about Justin Beiber, One Direction, Ford Focus and Gwen Stefani? Well, they all seem kind of derivative next to the awesome originals from that awesome decade that inspired all of it. But it is probably a matter of age and vantage point. I will finish the prune danish, and continue to revere the images above.
© 2012 blogSpotter

L'Enfant Terrible

L'Enfant Plan of 1792 - Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter

When I visited Washington D.C. in the summer of 2008, I found the cityscape to be impressive. In the government district, the streets are wide boulevards with substantial, Federal-style buildings gracing every other block. The National Mall is an awe-inspiring space with treasures like the Lincoln Memorial and the National Monument adding historical dimension to a visually sweeping, stunning view. It reminds me somewhat of Europe. It might call to mind Paris’ L’Arche de Triomphe or London’s Saint Paul Cathedral (and surrounding blocks). This wouldn’t be at all a coincidence – Washington D. C. was designed by a French engineer and city planner by the name of Peter L’Enfant.

Now who is this Peter L’Enfant? He was a French expatriate who loved the “American Experiment” so much that he fought in our Revolution and became a permanent American resident. He was also an extremely gifted Renaissance man who excelled in the visual arts. He could build furniture, paint portraits, design houses and better still, design cities. His plan for our nation’s capital was inspired by no less than Paris, Milan and Amsterdam. L’Enfant was a brave man – he served in our Army and rose to the rank of captain even while surviving a battle injury. He was also a likable man, and became fast friends with none other than George Washington. He painted Washington’s portrait, and endeared himself enough that he was Washington’s first choice for designing a Federal capital city on the Potomac in 1790.

L’Enfant conceived of a city with broad avenues and palatial buildings. His Utopian principality was punctuated with fountains, gardens, circular intersections and noble statuary. The view was well-received by Washington and Jefferson -- work commenced right away. Unfortunately, L’Enfant’s “Frenchness” emerged in the ensuing months – an almost manic, egotistical control freak took over the operation. This French “Mr. Hyde” undertook to design the entire city, including private residences and areas beyond the original scope. At length, there was a predictable butting of heads with others, particularly Commissioner Andrew Endicott. L’Enfant’s overreach would have depleted funds needed for the basic city infrastructure. Washington had no choice but to let go of L’Enfant. The remaining tasks were turned over to Endicott. To Endicott’s credit, the basic L’Enfant plan was left intact.

After this unfortunate episode, L’Enfant had a distinguished career as professor and architect in other venues. He did manage to run up very large bills some of which were partly paid by a settlement he reached with the Federal government. (L’Enfant had sued for back pay after being dismissed). His big-spending ways still left him to die as a pauper with $46 worth of maps and survey tools to his name. His hypomanic behavior apparently was as evident in personal finance as it was in city design.

Roll the calendar forward to 1901, at which time Washington D.C. had experienced a bit of “urban drift” before that was even much of a current topic. Slums and ugly buildings had appeared on the main government streets; a train station intruded right on the National Mall. L’Enfant’s vision had been compromised and men with the advantage of a century’s distance could see that was the case. They were able to separate the brilliant city planner from his personal foibles. The McMillan Plan was enacted to beautify Washington, tear down the eye sores and restore L’Enfant’s good name.

L’Enfant’s body was exhumed from a pauper’s grave site and he was buried in Arlington National cemetery with an appropriately respectful ceremony.  His gift to America was finally recognized  for the national legacy that it was and very much is. L’Enfant’s ideas were bigger than anyone’s scope, but maybe in retrospect,  he envisioned an America that was beyond anyone’s scope.
© 2012 blogSpotter

FutureVision

1939 World's Fair - Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
As a fifty-something baby boomer, I probably have had lofty expectations for what the future will bring -- expectations that need to be dialed back. When I was a child, every year brought astonishing changes; some were monumental like the moon landing or heart transplants. Still others were culturally explosive if not life-extending – color TV, stereophonic sound, heavy metal rock music and the sex revolution. It seemed each day was another blockbuster change. I was pretty sure in 1970 that 2010 would see us in Jetson-style space vehicles, traveling to lunar colonies. Cancer would be a thing of the past and all humankind would join hands in a circle of political harmony.

I was dramatically mistaken about the future, and I wonder why the world took such a detour. Let me skip across the last 4 decades to assess what has actually gotten better. We'll divide these up by category:

CONVENIENCE: Handheld calculators, microwave ovens, vcr’s, dvr’s, personal computers, walkmans, CD’s, DVD’s, cell phones, digital answering machines, satellite cable/radio, iPods/iPads/iPhones, the Internet

AUTO/SAFETY: air bags on cars, 5 mph bumpers, catalytic converters, lead free gasoline

ENVIRONMENT: solar energy, wind power, enviro-safe packaging, ozone-friendly AC, recycling

HEALTH: pacemakers, HIV protease “cocktail” drugs, SSRI antidepressants, Viagra

SOCIETY: Viet Nam war ended, marriage equality in 7 states, prescription drug Medicare coverage, woman’s right to choose, detente, fall of Berlin Wall, end of DADT in military

SPACE: Viking lander on Mars, Space Shuttle, Space Station

If you look at the preceding list of advancements, none of them are really Earth-shaking. In 1969, I could really make do with TV, movies and radio. Lack of 1000+ channels didn’t harm me. I can appreciate car safety from an objective standpoint and yet those advancements don’t excite me in any way. Same deal with the environment. Those advances will help us collectively and in the long run but will not particularly turn anything on its head right away. Some people might even complain that it’s gone too far and creates a stifling atmosphere for invention or experimentation.

What we have to add is that several things certainly got worse over 40 years. We had at least 3 more wars, plus the AIDS epidemic. The NASA program has been dismantled and the Post Office is falling apart. The 2008 financial meltdown made us keenly aware that New Deal safeguards don’t necessarily protect us from Wall Street wolves if the laws aren’t enforced. Culture Wars flared up during the Reagan years and the GOP was carried far to the right by evangelicals. Islamic fanatics attacked our financial district in 2001, exposing much vulnerability with regard to transportation security, visa enforcement, and Middle East diplomacy. Cancer and heart disease have barely been slowed – biotechnology is a big disappointment as is space exploration. The Space Shuttle is discontinued and the Space Station was largely financed and engineered by the Russians. Russia reverted to a market economy but replaced the politburo with oligarchs and the Russian mafia.

To do great things as a nation, we’ll need massive tax funding or private consortium funding. Capitalism isn’t a patient midwife – it wants instant gains. Can a purely capitalistic nation which is inherently short-range in its thinking compete with the “market socialism” of China? How big can our ideas ever be if they’re constrained by concerns centering on near term profit margins and share holder value? I may have only 20 years left in my lifespan… What great things can I expect by the day I breathe my last? Based on what I’ve just sorted through – not much. By 2032 we will have 20 more iterations of iPad, Windows and Mac OS. We’ll have toys and gadgets out the wazoo (don’t we already?). We’ll have mind-blowing virtual reality for entertainment purposes.

But on the biggest issues I don’t see the needle moving. The Middle East has been a tinderbox for 1000 years, what’s another 20? The economics of material glut pretty well indicates that Americans will continue to satisfy appetites for luxury to the exclusion of space or biotechnology. Culture Wars will continue to play out and I don’t see that reaching a pleasant resolution anytime soon. Am I the ultimate, nattering pessimist? Actually, I’m not. I have major optimism under my negative pessimism.

But we’re not looking at 20 years… we’re looking at 200, maybe 2000 years. My few remaining years might see some personal, mundane pleasantness -- new cars, a couple of vacations, graduations. I'm not betting on any New Enlightenment for the world at large... Let’s allow 2000 years for men to be reasonable and enlightened… Give it 2000 years for human kind to turn it all around. The world will improve at its own glacial pace -- and our future vision will have to be tempered with that reality.

© 2012 blogSpotter

Dark Voyage

It was a dark and chilly night - Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
How better to follow my Downton Abbey blog, than to talk about RMS Titanic – the luxury ocean liner that met its chilly fate on April 15th 1912, 400 miles off the coast of Newfoundland. The unsinkable ship actually played a role in Downton Abbey's season one plot line. And what befell this magnificent ship? As if the reader hasn't seen the movies and books ... we'll do a little refresher.

Titanic's Captain Edward Smith seemed to ignore ice warnings from the nearby Californian; Titanic hit an iceberg at 11:40PM, tearing open 5 of its 16 watertight compartments. Sadly ironic, the Californian was only 10 miles away and could’ve saved Titanic’s passengers – but the officer handling ship communications duty had gone to bed. Californian sped happily away as the Titanic foundered and then split in two, swallowed by the unforgiving North Atlantic.

The Titanic has been turned into two highly acclaimed movies – 1958’s A Night to Remember and 1997’s Titanic. It’s no wonder that the disaster has loomed so large in our collective memories. The ship was teeming with all classes and varieties of people – it was a floating, social microcosm of 2,224 people ranging from house maids to robber barons. With only 20 lifeboats, Titanic was the ultimate survivor show -- 90 years ahead of reality television. The very extremes of human behavior, cowardice and nobility, played out during the two hours and forty minutes that the wounded vessel kept above the water line. In a footnote of gallantry, 67% of 1st class male passengers perished – while only 54% of 3rd class women met the same watery fate. Gentlemen seemed to accept what was coming – hypothermia and drowning – with little drama or hysterics.

It probably helped that many passengers were well-lubricated on alcohol. Also many, including the handsome and wealthy John Jacob Astor IV, thought that the ship would survive and that help was on the way. In fact, the Carpathia had received the SOS and was steaming toward them; its 4 hour distance would prove too late. It had to be the ultimate, frantic moment when the last lifeboat was dispatched. Shortly thereafter, the surviving stern turned vertical, pitching people into the water as it embarked on its 2.5 mile descent downward. Some hearty soles endowed with athleticism and swimming skills were actually able to swim toward lifeboats. Many more were gobbled by terror, cold and infinite black water.

1,514 people perished on this infamous night. Only 710 (far less than could’ve fit in the 20 lifeboats) survived. In an act of incredible selflessness, 67 year old Macy’s owner Isidor Straus insisted that younger men be placed on lifeboats before him. His wife Ida remained with him steadfastly, refusing a lifeboat that was offered. Such were the acts of sacrifice and heroism on this terrifying night.

AFTERMATH / FOOTNOTE

The US Senate and British Trade Board both investigated the accident immediately after it happened. Regulations were updated for lifeboats, lifeboat drills and an International Ice Patrol was established for all ship travel.

The Titanic was actually a “triplet”; it had two nearly identical sister ships – the Britannic and the Olympic. The Britannic hit a German landmine in 1916, but the Olympic actually survived until White Star Lines scrapped it in 1936. Various decorative pieces were auctioned off for use in hotels and ships in England. Given the intense fascination with the Titanic now, one has to figure that maybe the Olympic should’ve been docked and preserved as a permanent attraction. Would-be Kate Winslets could imagine how things were on that night to remember.

© 2012 blogSpotter

High Tea and High Drama

Shocking, appalling and very entertaining - Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Pass me the smelling salts! I think I shall faint… you see Lady Mary just kissed Matthew Crawley as his fiancée Lavinia lay upstairs, suffering with Spanish flu. Where are their morals? Aren’t they worried someone might see? ? I’m watching Downton Abbey, the incredibly popular costume drama now taking England and America by storm. This lush, lavish period show is in its essence a soap opera – a very classy soap to be sure. Averaging 6 million people per episode, Downton Abbey is the most popular period show since 1981’s Brideshead Revisited. In fact, it’s one of the most popular shows overall – it garnered 6 Emmies this year for such things as directing, writing, costumes and overall series. The venerable Maggie Smith won for best supporting actress as Dowager Grantham.

Downtown Abbey is Julian Fellowes’ brilliant fictional creation, portraying the lives of the Earl and Countess of Grantham with all their servants and extended family. It’s set in the era of World War I, in the lavish environs of a country estate in Yorkshire. Exterior scenes of Downton are shot at Highclere Castle in Hampshire – a real country estate. Village scenes are filmed in Oxfordshire. We’re immersed in a bygone world -- no budgetary shortcuts have been taken. Downton gives us luminescent clothing, cars and furnishings that hark to the beautiful world of English nobility in the early 20th century. The show also offers some historical perspective along with the glossy imagery. With talks of class warfare, and Lady Sybil betrothing her chauffeur, it’s clear that pure aristocracy is fading – a new, egalitarian world is fast approaching.

Too often in historical dramas, people are sporting modern hairstyles or speaking in current idiom; Downton is painstakingly accurate in all of its costume and speaking styles. The people are no less human though – there is as much sex, intrigue and double-crossing as there ever was on Dynasty or The Young and the Restless. The series offers some cultural diversity as well as sex... Coproduced by British and Americans, Downton also has a starring character, Countess Cora, who's American. She has a down-home, Yankee sensibility and a lack of any stuffiness or pretension. It may be this mixing of the cultures that gives the show such a big following on both sides of the Atlantic.

Is there anything not to like? I’m probably the wrong one to ask – I’ve already seen all the episodes and am champing at the bit for Season 3. Are there things that other people would find silly or unbelievable? This is essentially a soap, so of course. Mrs. O’Brien goes from evil schemer to faithful redeemer and then back again! Captain Crawley comes back from WW I paralyzed and impotent but he miraculously gains back the use of all his body parts in less than one episode. Every plot twist seems to guarantee that the sexiest and most comely people will survive to flirt, nay, make sweet Edwardian love again. Some characters have “expendable” stamped on their foreheads and you know they’ll be a next casualty. Spanish flu really gave the writers a chance to clean house all in one episode.

But I must give credit to the series creator and chief writer, Julian Fellowes. Julian is known mostly for Gosford Park in his previous endeavors. With Downton, he’s created a mix of enchanting, believable, flawed, exciting people in an era which was pivotal and exciting itself. There is a gift to making us care and making us wait impatiently for a next episode or season. Bravo (and maybe cheerio?) to all that.

© 2012 blogSpotter

A Banjo On His Knee

Father of American Music - Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Can you imagine a world in which someone as talented and famous as Mick Jagger has to live on handouts? How about Justin Timberlake having to sleep on a friend’s couch after winning a Grammy award? 150 years ago, we inhabited such a strange world. Artists -- be they painters or musicians, either starved or they found wealthy patrons to pamper them. For song writers, composer royalties hardly existed – but music sheet publishers raked in the dough.

One person who inhabited this financially bleak landscape was a hugely prolific and talented young man --Stephen Foster, now dubbed the “Father of American Music”. Stephen Foster basically wrote the Hit Parade of songs from 1846 through 1864 (the year of his untimely death at age 37). He specialized in light, breezy minstrel music such as “Oh! Susanna” and “Swanee River”. His songs have remained as permanent hallmarks of American culture – still hummed and strummed to this day.

The songs as originally written would be considered politically incorrect to be sure; most of the lyrics are in a Negro slave dialect (using dey versus they)… They have to be considered in the context of the era. Foster wasn’t a racist man – he was just speaking in the argot of the era. Foster was actually a Yankee; he sang about the South but only visited once, briefly on his honeymoon. Stephen Foster’s two biggest influences were a classically trained music instructor, Henry Kleber, and Dan Rice – a blackface singer and clown. Such a diverse influence could explain Foster’s musical bearings.

Stephen Foster was from a middle class background. He grew up near Athens, Pennsylvania and briefly attended Jefferson College in Canonsburg, PA. He precociously composed “Tioga Waltz” at age 14 – and played it at his Athens Academy commencement. Stephen was extroverted and likely to be performing his numbers on a stage somewhere when he wasn't busy writing them. Like so many super-talented young people, he dropped out of college to pursue his passion. Stephen was lucky to have an older brother William who was successful as an engineer and businessman. William served as mentor, sounding board and sometimes employer to a barely solvent Stephen. Stephen worked as a book keeper for his brother in 1846 in Cincinnati, Ohio. Here, he penned “Oh! Susanna” which became a national hit. Stephen was so emboldened by that success that he returned to Pennsylvania to be a professional song writer. Stephen’s total “take” for “Oh! Susanna” was $100.

Foster joined up with a performing group, the Christy Minstrels, who showcased all his latest hits – such as “Camptown Races” and “Old Kentucky Home”. Stephen had never visited Florida or the Suwanee River when he composed “Swanee River”. He found the name in an atlas, dropped the “u” for the sake of song meter, and plugged the name into his song. Floridians love the song and feel honored – maybe they wouldn’t if they knew how slickly and quickly it was originated. (Such is artistic license then and now).

Foster married Jane Denny McDowell in 1852 – they had one daughter. He was so smitten with his new wife, he wrote “Jeanie With The Light Brown Hair”. Jeanie however, was not smitten with the poverty-level existence of a 19th century song writer. She and the daughter parted ways with Stephen in 1860 when he decided to ply his trade in New York, New York. Foster’s folksy style wasn't a match for New York and he probably suffered from having the love of his life, Jeanie, fly the coop. He ended up in the run-down North American Hotel at age 37, battling a bad fever. He stumbled from bed, struck his head on a basin and bled for 3 hours before making it to a hospital. It’s thought he probably died of sepsis in an era without antibiotics.

Stephen Foster’s life was short and his candle was snuffed too soon. He probably would've lived longer as a book keeper, but his spirited songs wouldn’t be with us today. Like the painter Van Gogh who died at the same age, Foster believed in his art. He starved his bank account but enriched the whole world musically.

© 2012 blogSpotter

Rethinking a Paradise Lost

Washington creating our Confederation - Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Imagine a USA with no President, no executive agencies, no judiciary and no tax base. In this America, states can send in a suggested amount of tax dollars but there’s no requirement. The Congress must have unanimous buy-in from every state to ratify any treaty or pass any law. Every state is sovereign with regard to its commerce and trade policies… It sounds like the pipe dream of all conservative Republicans, former Dixiecrats and Libertarians everywhere. In some ways it sounds like the current European Union which has foundational cracks and fissures from one rogue member country, Greece, running up a large national debt.

In fact what I’m describing actually did exist – from 1777 until 1789. In 1777, the Articles of Confederation were drafted and sent for approval by the 2nd Continental Congress and were fully ratified by all states in 1781. They were essentially in effect for a dozen years from ratification until replacement with the U.S. Constitution in 1789. They were created at the urging of Thomas Paine, among other prominent colonists, who thought they would give legitimacy to what would otherwise be seen as a scruffy band of rebels. The Articles as written in fact gave us the Confederated States of America – 80 years ahead of the die-hard Southerners who tried to resuscitate it, like Lazarus from the dead, in 1860. The Confederated States could declare war, negotiate treaties, and resolve conflicts between states. For such a noble idea, there were problems…

There was no tax base – tax money was given voluntarily as a “suggested amount”. Not surprisingly, little money came in. Some states wouldn’t even pay off their own Revolutionary War debts. Other states failed to kick in for food and supplies or pay pensions to war veterans. States disbanded their militias as soon as eminent threat went away – laying themselves open to future attack. Sometimes the attack was internal, as with Shay’s Rebellion in 1786 – a group of farmer’s angry at the depressed market struck out at the state government. After the 1783 Treaty of Paris, various countries (primarily Great Britain) declared trade war against the fledgling United States. The United States couldn’t enact any navigation or trade laws to counter the trade threats – when Massachusetts observed a suggested tariff, Connecticut would rake in money by ignoring the same law.

The Confederation was an odd bird in several ways. There was only one house of Congress called “Congress”. The Congress had a President who was more of a figurehead, a Parliamentarian. The most powerful official in this United States was arguably the governor of the most populous, prosperous member state. The Congress itself resolved disputes between states, thereby suspending (on occasion) its legislative duty to serve as a de facto executive branch. A group of Federalists (including George Washington) were starting to see the need for some backbone and order to their bold-but-fledgling Democratic experiment.

By 1787, things were visibly falling apart. States were ripping in to one another with law suits, military veterans were rioting for back pay and Barbary pirates were threatening Americans who refused to fund a US Navy. Trade-wise, foreign governments were playing states against one another and gaining a decided advantage. This dismal state of affairs brought top aide Alexander Hamilton to prominence – he argued successfully that the Articles should be replaced by a U.S. Constitution and that a strong Federal government should be established. Even the most devoted States’ Rights supporters had to admit the Articles were not cutting it... It’s a great statement about our founders that they could admit a mistake and right the situation early on. How many other countries have such a capacity for humble self-correction and redirection? While the USA hatched out a bicameral legislature, France had a Reign of Terror followed by an Emperor.

It’s amazing that Southerners, Dixiecrats and many of the current “Tea Party” look fondly to this questionable Paradise Lost. The European Union of 2011 appears to be held together with Scotch tape and Elmer’s glue … it may suit them to read some American history. To borrow from a 1990’s cliché – we’ve been there and done that. The other very necessary shoe didn’t drop until 124 years after the 1789 Constitution was drafted. In 1913 the Federal Income Tax and Federal Reserve System was put in place to help secure the money supply, protect against panics and fund the Federal government. It may not have served all these purposes as expertly as we'd like, but it has helped immeasurably in strengthening a robust, truly United States that acts as one power when it matters.

© 2011 blogSpotter

Daring Debutante

This is a stickup! - Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I was in my junior year at Lanier High School in February 1974. Watergate was in full throttle and Paul McCartney’s Wings was boring us with “Bland on the Run”. I needed some excitement and finally received my fix when it was reported that 19 year-old newspaper heiress Patty Hearst had been kidnapped by the left-wing guerillas known as Symbionese Liberation Army. That poor, beautiful girl. There she was watching TV with her boyfriend Steve Weed one minute, and the next minute she was being held for ransom by a ruffian named Donald Cinque LeFreeze no less.

To look at her prior life is to look at stuffy, stifling, wealthy, lily white luxuriance. She was raised by her patrician parents in highbrow Hillsborough, California. The 3rd of 5 daughters, she attended the very best schools – Crystal Springs School for Girls and Santa Catalina School in Monterey. Had Patty’s life unfolded the way her preppy, two-dimensional “script” spelled out, she would’ve joined a sorority, majored in Liberal Arts, met a wealthy scion from Dow Chemical and settled into a life of shallow splendor – vacationing in Aruba and shopping for Mercedes automobiles.

But fate had another script in mind. In the hands of Donald Cinque LeFreeze, Patty was transformed into a firebrand of social revolution. LeFreeze used Maoist mind control tactics to convince the impressionable Patty that she was a victim of White Establishment propaganda. He renamed her “Tania” after Che Guevara’s girlfriend. He talked the beautiful coed into joining the SLA in its various activities – issuing dire proclamations to the public and robbing banks. Patty was caught on security camera, barking commands to Hibernia Bank customers while wielding a gun. Ironically, Hibernia Bank was headed by the father of her best friend from childhood. Strange how the circles overlapped.

The SLA was nothing if not socially conscious. The ransom they requested was for Patty’s father to give $70 worth of food to all of California’s needy – a total value of $400 million. When Hearst complied, the SLA considered the food to be of poor quality – ransom unmet. Patty herself was quoted as saying, “My father could have done better”. Alas, the socially aware SLA had a short run. The group, including Patty, was apprehended in September 1975 and brought to justice.

The 1976 trial was a precursor to the 3 Ring Circus OJ-style events we’ve come to know in recent decades. F. Lee Bailey defended Patty but he was no match for prosecution expert Dr. Harry L. Kozol. Kozol smashed the “Stockholm Syndrome” defense by pointing out that Patty (1) still refused to turn evidence on SLA members and (2) failed to ever mention a small closet where police investigators allege that she was raped. In what was seen as a victory for the prosecution, Patty was sentenced to 35 years in Federal prison. Fortunately for Patty, the other powers that be relented. Jimmy Carter commuted her sentence to time served, 22 months in 1979. Bill Clinton gave her a full pardon in 2001.

In 2011, Patty Hearst lives a pleasant, unexciting, unremarkable life as a still attractive middle-aged matron. She married her former bodyguard, Bernard Shaw; they live in Garrison, NY with their two children Gillian and Lydia. In 1974, the antics of the SLA were greeted with weary vexation – we were still coming down from the 60’s. We live now in an unyielding age of over-the-top comedy with comedians like Conan O’Brien and Kathy Griffin. The extreme ironies and titillating details of Patty’s ordeal would never escape the laugh-a-minute laser vision of Comedy Central or Jay Leno in 2011. Details like a captor named “Cinque DeFreeze” cannot be ignored. In point of fact, filmmaker John Waters (of Pink Flamingos fame) did see the zaniness even at the time. Patty’s acting career is mostly comprised of comedic roles in John Waters movies like Cry-Baby. She was also in a couple of other B movies and did cameos for Frasier and Veronica Mars. Patty’s parents probably wish that their daughter’s life had adhered to the debutante script. All the rest of us, as well as popular culture, must feel enriched that Patty’s life took a completely different direction.

© 2011 blogSpotter

Pondering Pakistan

Pakistanis protest the Ugly American - Courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter

PREFACE

Let me say I'm very happy that Bin Laden was apprehended and dispatched by Navy Seals last week. The skill, the risk-taking and meticulous execution of the “hit” will probably be the stuff of legend – discussed by historians and military buffs for many years to come. This preface is also a segue into our “real” topic du jour …

PAKISTAN IS OUR FRIEND

The reader must have picked up the fact that the subtitle is dripping with sarcasm – Pakistan is not our unqualified friend. I have an instinct to pile on with conservative GOP congressmen who want to withdraw all funding to Pakistan – for the odious fact that Pakistani military intelligence very likely sheltered Osama Bin Laden for 8 years. For the past 5 years, Bin Laden lived in a conspicuous, large modern compound in Abbottabad, near a military camp. For 3 years prior to that, he lived almost as conspicuously in a small town near Abbottabad.

Pakistan's ISI claims they had no idea of Bin Laden's presence. They would have to be lying or grossly incompetent – either situation is somewhat terrible. To flesh out the total picture, it helps to look at two fairly extreme viewpoints ... Salmon Rushdie, the controversial Muslim dissident author, has described Pakistan as an “enemy state”. He stated in a recent interview that Pakistani contacts told him years ago that the ISI was sheltering terrorists. At the other extreme is ex-Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. She declared in the last two days (since Bin Laden's death) that Pakistan is our unimpeachable, most valuable ally. Well which is it? Why can't we call it as we see it, and how is it that two fairly respectable people have such divergent views?

It's because Pakistan is a patched-together ethic house of cards. Sixty different languages are spoken and many competing strains of Islam are present. The government is officially secular, but that status is continuously under threat by such groups as the vociferous Pashtuns. This ultra-conservative group comprises 15% of the population and reveres Bin Laden as a hero. The fact that Bin Laden has the blood of @ 5,000 people on his hands (including many Muslims) is dismissed as the collateral damage of jihad. Some US military analysts speculate that if Pakistan had openly ratted out Bin Laden, it would've destabilized an already unstable regime. It's further speculated that last week Pakistan looked the other way when Navy Seal helicopters invaded Pakistani airspace to conduct Operation Geronimo. Hear no evil, speak no evil and certainly – see no evil.

Thus Pakistan was almost neutral in the final tally. They didn't disclose Bin Laden's hiding place, but like Edgar Allen Poe's purloined letter Bin Laden wasn't very much hidden. They didn't “notice” our helicopters but asked us to please not do that again. They didn't protest too much. This takes the spotlight over to another place entirely... Why was Uncle Sam AWOL in all of this for 9 years.

The W. Bush administration was right in publicly claiming Pakistan as an ally. We need the secular arm of the Pakistanis to give access to air space and air bases. We couldn't have conducted the Afghan war without Pakistan's help. But the dreadful reality comes clear -- W. Bush and his immediate advisers must have really thought that Pakistan was our unequivocal ally. They must have thought that this 3rd world nation riven with assassinations and unrest would tell nothing but the truth and always serve the purposes of the USA. I hope that it was colossal naivete because the other alternative would be the dark, disturbing aspect that someone on the USA side was also hoping to shelter the mass killer.

Whatever the case may be, the fault is not Pakistan's. They are a nation in continual identity crisis. That their police and military force would be peppered with Bin Laden sympathizers should have been no great shock to the United States. That we went nine years floating on a myth about caves in Tora Bora is sadly pathetic on our part. Pakistan is what it is – a sometimes-USA-partner in a world crazed by religious extremism. Their every move should be inspected and evaluated, even as we politely smile and nod agreement. Not even Canada or Mexico is totally on board with the USA in its every move – why on earth would we think Pakistan is?

BlogSpotter thinks that there are other shoes that may need to drop out out of this whole affair. Suspicions and alternate theories run rife. For now, I will finish my Starbucks coffee. I will then do like W. Bush – look for some other diversion and hope that none of these awful things could be true.

© 2011 blogSpotter

Rule, Britannia?

The happy couple - Courtesy of the Windsors

by blogSpotter
What is it about the Royals that gives Americans a total case of Brit Envy? Prince William and commoner Kate Middleton will tie the knot tomorrow, April 29th. There has been a news blitz unlike anything since … well the 1981 marriage of Diana and Charles. While Charles and Di's hitch-up seemed a little bogus and prearranged, Will and Kate seem to have the “real deal” – true love, whatever that actually entails. Kate, like Diana, has Cover Girl looks that any model from the Ford Agency would envy. She could probably buy her clothes at Ross Dress for Less and still look like a million dollars.

That brings me to the next (semi-related) topic – the odd fissures that have occurred between Anglo and American culture over the many years. The fictional Professor Henry Higgins noted our nations' common language, English, while adding … “Americans haven't spoken it for years”. Our original 13 colonies were brought along under England's sometimes protective (sometimes oppressive) wing and yet as American revolutionary upstarts we rejected many of England's other cultural offerings. Where to begin?

Americans do not have a king. It was actually proposed, but by the late 18th century no one was certain how you establish a royal bloodline in anyway that is credible or certifiable. Even in medieval times a regal pedigree was probably questionable but it became very established, protected by the passage of time and tradition. We also do not have a Church of America like the Church of England. It was expressly rejected by Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and the others – we didn't want “blood-soaked soil” as Europe (in the hands of 18th century religious zealots) was described.

We must have hated England with the ferocity that a 14 year old boy hates his old man... We ditched pounds and shillings and created our own monetary system of dollars and cents. We took a page from their Parliament but created a bicameral Congress with no references to Lords or Commoners – see above passage about permanent designations of Royalty or Lordliness. We were so distanced from England that we drove our carriages on the right side of the road and we abandoned High Tea. Also out the window were Shepherd's Pie and other English culinary items.

In point of fact, we have recreated an alternate England with an American twist. Mainstream protestantism is more or less our “Church of America” – it's a social norm that politicians best observe. We don't have royalty from “on high” but you should know that we have an entrenched, wealthy 1% that pulls most of the strings in our society. The Rockefellers and DuPonts could probably buy Windsor Castle and could say “off with your head” in a figurative sense to be sure.

It's a two way street and we've given back to Great Britain as much as we've taken...We've exported Starbucks to England so that their High Tea may face a cultural volley of lattes and cappuccinos. We also gave them Muddy Waters, Elvis and Fifty Cent which has intermingled variously with their own musical forms. Did I mention that we probably helped keep them from oblivion in World War II? We Americans do nurse an affection for a motherland culture which beguiles us with Beef Eaters, double-decker buses, red phone booths and vintage looking taxi cabs. What the hey – we probably also have a cultural debt owing to Shakespeare, Charles Dickens and the Beatles no less.

How do we love England? We love it mightily, so much so that we probably would advise the Founding Fathers if we could – the Red Coats really weren't so bad. We wouldn't want to bring Shillings or shepherd's pie back to America but we have never really cast away the shared history and cultural bonds. Despite the two nations' disparate powers and capacities in the early 21st century, England and America have a tremendous shared reverence. And America, without any princes to speak of, turns back to Britannia for its needed dose of regal fantasies. Congratulations to Will and Kate.

© 2011 blogSpotter

Rebel Rebel

Notorious son of the South -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Students of American history are well-versed in the details of the 1865 Lincoln assassination. An embittered Confederate sympathizer, actor John Wilkes Booth, shot the president in the back of the head, then jumped to the stage uttering “Sic simper tyrannis” (“Thus always to tyrants”). By most accounts, he broke a leg in his dramatic leap. He fled by horseback into the remote Maryland woods, later crossing the Potomac into Virginia where Union soldiers tracked him down and shot him a few days later. This is the compressed kernel of the Booth saga, and yet it leaves out many compelling details of this deranged Southern scion.

The handsome John Wilkes hailed from a well-heeled Maryland family, the famous Booths – known for several Shakespearean actors in their clan. John’s older brother Edwin introduced him to the theater at the tender age of 17. At first, John played second banana roles in plays such as Richard III and Hamlet until his good looks, athleticism and natural hamminess propelled him to center stage. Edwin conceded that the younger Booth had the looks and star power – he let John start taking more of the lead roles. Booth became a superstar in short order. He soon was earning $20,000/year (big money in 1860). Booth received bags of fan mail from adoring women each day. He headlined in most of the large American cities (North and South) sometimes appearing in as many as 80 plays a year. Booth was dubbed the “handsomest man in America” and even Walt Whitman (himself a literary lion of the era) gushed that John Wilkes Booth had “flashes of real genius”. In what would later be a sad, strange irony, it was revealed that the Lincoln family was also enamored of JWB. Lincoln had already seen Booth in other plays such as The Marble Heart.

Booth had enormous ambitions and appetites – he might have even been slightly bipolar considering his many enthusiastic projects. His large income allowed him to invest in several enterprises – Boston real estate, a music company and even an oil company. His oil company ran into technical issues (an oil well was accidentally destroyed by explosives) and Booth lost $81,000. He became disenchanted with business and placed his focus on the growing Civil War debacle. He laid the blame for his business problems and all his travails at the feet of Abe Lincoln. In fact, Booth became a man obsessed – he was strident in his Confederate sympathies and Union hatred.

Booth’s career started to tank, due to his rants. He was tossed out of an Albany theater when he lambasted the Union from the stage. In St. Louis, he was thrown in the clink for bad-mouthing the president while appearing there. His sister Asia and brother Edwin were both Union sympathizers -- they tried to get their firecracker brother to lower his voice in public. In fact, Edwin finally had to banish his brother from his house until he could be more mannerly. Booth smoldered as events unfolded; he also began to keep company with equally unhinged Dixie zealots -- he never actually returned to a “mannerly” self.

As the Civil War came to its conclusion, Booth clung desperately to a couple of ideas:

• Southern General Joseph E. Johnston still had a regiment fighting, even after Lee’s surrender… to Booth, this meant the war was still ongoing
• The Union government could be “decapitated” by simultaneously taking out the President, Vice President and Secretary of State. A weakened union would then cave to the Confederacy

It’s been suggested that Booth hatched out this delirious plan (2nd bullet, above) with the Confederate Secret Service but nothing was ever proved. The plot was likely confined to maybe a dozen Rebel diehards; considering the incompetence of its execution, it couldn’t be the product of any military masterminds. According to the plan, Booth’s cohort George Atzerodt was to kill Vice President Andrew Johnson and friend Lewis Powell was to kill Secretary of State William Seward. Coconspirator David Herold was to facilitate Booth’s escape from the Ford Theater.

The plot fell apart miserably from the outset– two of the three planned assassinations failed off the bat. Powell stabbed Seward (who was in bed, recovering from a carriage accident) but the wound was only superficial and Seward quickly recovered. It was more of a jab than a stab. Atzerodt chickened out of his role and ducked into a local tavern for drinks. He never made an attempt on Johnson’s life.

Booth succeeded in his effort – he was a star in the Ford Theater and was never questioned anywhere on the premises. He shot Lincoln in the now-familiar scenario, leapt to the stage, and uttered his famous epithet. He also tripped as he crashed to the floor, breaking his leg. He and Dave Herold fled into the theater alley, mounted their horses, and galloped into the dark, swampy terrain of southern Maryland. They stopped at Surratt’s Tavern nine miles along the way, to stock up on guns and supplies -- Mary Surratt was a coconspirator later hanged for her part in the assassination (first woman in the US to be hanged on federal charges). They went from there to the home of Dr. Samuel Mudd, who tended to Booth’s broken leg. Some argue whether the Mudd connection was coincidental but historians have established a year-prior relationship where Booth had purchased a horse and had drinks with Mudd. Mudd got off easy with just a life sentence for his involvement in the events.

From Mudd’s house they traveled to the tobacco farm of Confederate sympathizer Samuel Cox. Cox would only allow them to sleep in his barn, he didn’t want to be implicated. Also, at this point there was a $100,000 bounty on Booth and federal agents were combing the nearby woods.

At length, Booth and Herold ended up at Richard Garrett’s Virginia farm. The Garrett’s were also southern sympathizers but also would only allow the fugitives space in the family’s barn. It was here, getting news updates from the Garretts that Booth must have fallen off of his manic cloud:

• Joseph E, Johnston had surrendered – all war efforts were over
• Both Robert E. Lee and Johnston had strongly condemned the assassination
• Newspapers that had lambasted Lincoln decried his death (Booth thought he’d be welcomed as a savior and hero)
• Southerners in general were fearful about occupation and reconstruction – they feared that Booth’s violent act would bring more vengeance from the North
• Several of Booth’s cohorts were already arrested and Federal agents were hot on his trail

Union Lieutenant Edward Doherty and his scouts found Booth and Herold on April 26th, holed up in the Garrett’s barn. Doherty’s men surrounded the barn and even set fire to it. Herold surrendered, but Booth was defiant. Booth was shot in the neck and paralyzed for 3 hours until he died from the wound. His dying words were, “Tell my mother I died for our country”. He had pictures of 5 young women, including his recent fiancée, Lucy Lambert Hale, in his wallet.

CONCLUSION
John Wilkes Booth, an incredibly handsome, successful, wealthy and beloved stage actor threw it all away for his half-baked scheme to save the Confederacy. The actions he took bespeak an Old South mentality which was arrogance defined – a monstrous hubris which indulged equally monstrous fantasies. These fantasies made deities of plantation owners and chattel of their servants. In hindsight we judge Booth’s actions as those of a crazy man, and yet his level of crazy wasn’t that far removed from the South Carolina politicians who voted to secede five years earlier.

Flim-flam artists quickly took hold of the Booth events; one person authored a book claiming that Booth had escaped and died many years later in Granbury Texas. The idea was even carried into the late 20th century, with 1977’s The Lincoln Conspiracy. In fact, Booth’s body was positively identified by his mother, brother and sister shortly after his death – his body is now interred at the family Green Mount cemetery in Maryland. None of these mere facts discouraged county fairs and traveling shows from displaying the “real, mummified” body of John Wilkes Booth in years that followed.

The real facts surrounding this scion of the South are unusual enough by themselves -- we needn’t add any fiction to the story of this ignoble actor and Presidential assassin.

© 2011 blogSpotter

The Ghosts of Campbell House

Greetings from Hugh and Hazlett -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
In 2006, a friend and I visited St. Louis Missouri. I had never been to that fabled Gateway and enjoyed my visit thoroughly. We stayed near the downtown area and saw most of the sights including the famous Arch built in 1965 as well as the fashionable Delmar Avenue district. St. Louis is a fusion place for several American traditions. The jazz bars and BBQ joints call to mind the Deep South while gray squirrels and blustery North wind put you back into a Yankee state of mind. With blocks of deteriorating brick mansions and rows of defunct 19th century warehouses, I can’t help but think how an ambitious developer might want to gentrify all of it. Saint Louis is like a fading, but still beautiful dowager queen -- a city that once was the center of American commerce. I would heartily recommend it for someone wanting a substantial slice of American history and culture.

One site is little known or talked about and yet it made the biggest impression of all -- the Campbell House Museum near the downtown district. Campbell house is the meticulously restored mansion that once belonged to 19th century banking tycoon Robert Campbell and his family. The 1851 Federal style house was purchased by the showy Campbells for $18,000 in 1854. 18K was a bundle for that era. Campbell died with a net worth of $2 million and also was known for his dabbling in real estate, gold and the fur trade. He and his wife, Virginia entertained lavishly and even once hosted a dinner party for Ulysses Grant and retired General Sherman.

The house itself at 20 Lucas Place, was state-of-the-art for its time. It had servants’ quarters, a carriage house and (most impressively) indoor plumbing. The kitchen counter was crudely hewn wood and the upstairs toilet was also made of wood. We have to recall that those were once rooms of service and function -- not the luxuriant spaces we have now with granite counters, wine racks and garden baths. The Campbell’s had the house from 1854 until 1938 when the youngest son Hazlett died at age 83. The home was subsequently converted to a public museum and most of the Victorian-era furniture (sold in estate auction) was tracked down and repurchased. Wallpaper, paint and other effects were meticulously restored using photos and letters as reference points. The house now serves as an incredible venture into mid-19th century decadence if you will. With some minor adjustments, you might just love living there now.

But for all the beauty of the building, the human ghosts of Campbell house are by far the most gripping part of the story. From its beginning, the story has an eerie feel. Robert proposed to Virginia and she flat-out turned him down. After Robert pleaded with her in person and via mail (over some months), she finally caved and married him. The very fact that the marriage was conceived in an act of practicality and exasperated “settling” is something that did not bode well for the future…

The Campbells had 13 children -- but here is where their wealth oddly did them no favors. The indoor plumbing drew its water from a common supply that wasn’t treated for contagions. 10 of the 13 children died from various diseases -- cholera, diphtheria and typhoid. Only 3 boys survived to adulthood -- Hugh, James and Hazlett. All 3 boys were tall, athletic and handsome -- they attended Ivy League schools and traveled through Europe in the 1880’s. But the cold wind of fate wasn’t near the end of its course… James caught the flu in his early 20’s and died from that. Hazlett started having mood swings and erratic behavior in his early 20‘s -- later these might be diagnosed as manic depression or schizophrenia. He was actually treated with cocaine (labeled vials were found in his estate) -- cocaine was a legal and approved treatment for “melancholia” in the 19th century. But Hazlett remained unemployable and cloistered the rest of his days, cared for by his older brother Hugh.

Hugh actually survived into old age in a state of good health and mental soundness. In earlier years he entertained, gave to children’s charities and was a congenial, man about town. But Hugh never married or had children. None of the boys did. In his middle age, Hugh became nearly as reclusive as Hazlett -- neighbors observed that only servants and delivery people were ever seen entering or leaving the house. Hugh died in 1931, prearranging Hazlett’s care by paid nurses. Hazlett died in 1938 with no living heirs, thus setting the stage for a Campbell Museum.

Thus you walk through the Campbell’s living room, regaled by stories of civil war generals, amazed at the beautiful Victorian davenport in authentic red fabric. You love the carriage house, replete with a carriage. But then in the dining room, you gaze at the photo of three robust young men in Paris. Whom did they marry, what dragons did they slay? There must be 15 grandchildren and 50 great grandchildren. In so many families that would be imperative. But here, the sad thread, the weird curse of Robert and Virginia Campbell has its final, quiet close. The Campbell House has so many stories to tell, and so many other stories left unspoken.

© 2011 blogSpotter

The History of Porn

Selling sex -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Don’t worry, the title is just a teaser – no intentions of giving you a long history of anything. I’m too lazy. But I will talk about pornography (we all know it when we see it) and some of its historical underpinnings. Porn joins capital punishment and meat-eating as a disturbingly gray subject for me. I usually like to give black-and-white pronouncements and some matters defy that. With capital punishment, I wonder if we too often kill an innocent man -- are we killing to show that killing is wrong? In my final analysis, I’m OK with it if there’s overwhelming evidence of a first degree murder. We might even be doing the killer a favor, delivering him from a private Hell of violent, confused thoughts. With our carnivorism, I wonder if the animals don’t suffer diminished lives and horrid slaughterhouse deaths. At the end of the day, I’m a “flexitarian” who eats meat (mostly fish and poultry) along with lots of fruits and vegetables. To assuage my guilt, I give to animal charities and have even given to PETA.

Now as to pornography – it encompasses every shade of gray. Pornography is as old as civilization; some rock art and cave paintings have been interpreted as early porn. It seems our minds have always been in the gutter. Up until the 19th century though, pornography was centered more in the domain of “erotic art” and was enjoyed by privileged groups (e.g., clergy and nobility). Telegraph and railroad trains of the 1800’s brought about mass-marketing where books and magazines became inexpensive and generally available to the public. Photography emerged in this same time, and the world of smut was upon us.

Pornography wasn’t even coined as a word until the mid 19th century. The English Parliament rushed to protect the masses with the Obscene Publications Act of 1857. Victorian archaeologists of the 1860’s were so shocked by the lude Roman artifacts discovered at Pompeii, they were locked away in the “Secret Museum” of Naples, only to be unveiled years later. Many new layers of legal definitions and complexity have been piled on in decades since the 1850’s. If anything, we are probably even more confused as a people regarding things like legal age or what constitutes a sex act or pornography itself.

Pornography did have staying power, and it survived the Victorian instincts to stifle its nature. It could be argued that the stifling engendered more of porn’s popularity – the phenomenon of the forbidden fruit. A federal study of 1970 showed that pornography was a $10 million industry. Similar studies in 2001 put the figure at $4 billion. A more recent study by the Forrester group puts the number at $8-10 billion annually. Porn has ridden every technology wave, starting with the printing press and photography in the distant past. In recent years, pornography has been an industry leader in technical innovation. It was a deciding factor in the VHS-Betamax battle as well as the BluRay-HD DVD battle. Porn has been an active player, not just a sideline observer in all the recent developments: satellite TV, DVD, Internet and wireless communication.

So what can we make of all this -- is pornography friend or foe? Pornography has some entrenched enemies. Politics makes strange bed fellows because the most strident opponents to porn are militant feminists and religious conservatives. Feminists focus on the “subjugation of women” when it fact porn is an equal opportunity offender – it subjugates men, women, animals, sometimes children and even inanimate objects depending on the genre. We can draw lines obviously against bestiality, kiddy porn and snuff movies. But at the other extreme we can throw canvas covers over the photos of Robert Mapplethorpe or the naked Venus de Milo. Somewhere in that murky middle is where the porn-loving populace dwells. They derive tawdry thrills from (generally) young adults who don’t mind doing private things publicly.

As with capital punishment, I see both sides of the issue. Can’t help but think that misguided youths are trashing a future career as President or CIO when they frolic though these videos or photo spreads. On the other hand, I can’t claim to be innocent of seeing these exhibitions at length. There is no black or white delineation – just gray, gray, gray. It’s difficult to assume one strident side of these issues without alternately being seen as insensitive, intolerant, hypocritical, fanatical or unrealistic.

Thus I’ll continue eating poultry, contributing to PETA, feeling safer when an avowed killer is removed from our presence, and viewing or reading adult subject matter if it’s in my face and hard to ignore. A college roommate once said, “If they’re willing to show it, I’m willing to look”. There are too many people who feel that way (unfortunately including me :-)).

© 2010 blogSpotter