The Democratic Party is broken. In fact, I don’t think too many people would disagree with me if I were to say that, right now, the entire country is not in particularly good shape. Ever since that terrible September morning in New York — which had the most shockingly beautiful blue sky I ever remember seeing in my city — I’m not sure we have even gotten close to being who we were or, at least, who we hoped we were. What makes that even more sad is that, no matter where you fall on the political spectrum, today should be a truly glorious day. After last night, America really never will be quite the same — and that’s a good thing. I would even argue that it’s a great thing.

But, in the spirit of full disclosure, I have been a supporter of Senator Clinton throughout the primary season. Her tactics have often annoyed and sometimes even disgusted me, but I still thought she would be the most effective president during a time when the country seems to need grit and determination and the grinding tedium of hard work to get ourselves back on track. Unfortunately, I think she and Senator Obama have been caught up in a bizarre maelstrom of non-stop punditry and over-analysis and media-fed miscommunication — most of which has just made me feel like going somewhere and lying down with a cool cloth on my forehead.

Everywhere I have gone today — both in the real world, and in the peculiar, highly charged environment known as the Internet — instead of celebrating the fact that we’ve been catapulted into a new era, people seem short-tempered and tense and confused. When you think about it, that’s really quite heartbreaking. And, day after day, the division between the two competing halves of the Democratic Party seems to be growing even more ugly and intractable.

One often hears the question “What can Senator Obama do to unify this vast sea of wildly opinionated, intensely involved citizens?” I have a very simple suggestion, which — at first glance — will sound rather banal and meaningless. I respectfully ask anyone who happens to read this to stop and take a second glance.

There is simply no way for the deplorable wounds of racism and sexism to be erased during a single campaign season, no matter how groundbreaking it truly is, in so many ways. But, I have been waiting for Senator Obama to do something — anything –that would make me say, okay, it isn’t just pretty words, or the fervent wistful projections of a battered populace, but that he really is capable of bold, transformational action.

I would love, for example, for Senator Obama to be able to take Al Gore’s graceful and elegant position on gay marriage, but I recognize that it would not be an act of wisdom during a heated election. But, there is actually a different, long-dormant issue that still lurks, privately, as a tremendous disappointment to millions of Americans — myself among them.

It’s a blast from the past, but remember the ERA? There are many people who will probably think, oh, please, that is such old news — but, you know, it isn’t. It mattered then, and it matters now, even though no one ever mentions it anymore. What if Senator Obama came out and said that one of his first acts as president would be to do everything in his power to bring the ERA back, and try to get it ratified, once and for all? Yes, I suppose it seems like ancient history, but the words are very simple: “Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.” At the time, many people found the entire concept irrationally terrifying, but does it still seem scary and radical? Or does it just seem — logical?

And is it within the realm of possibility that if Senator Obama took that position, openly and proudly, a statistically significant percentage of Senator Clinton’s most devoted and intelligent supporters would suddenly feel much more comfortable with — and maybe even enthusiastic about — his candidacy? I will be honest — it would certainly make a difference to me. It would be a symbolic gesture, but an important one.

Would those 24 words end the war in Iraq, fix the economy, or provide universal health care for one and all?

No. But, those 24 words matter.

They always have.

They still do.

**This piece was originally published at The Huffington Post/Off The Bus

(The direct link is here; they will be adding my full name ASAP, for what it’s worth)

I like history.

I have always liked history.

And although it is on another, very grim topic, this, in my opinion, is an beautifully written piece of history.  So is this.  But when I was trying–and failing–to get my PhD in–you guessed it!–history, I was told that, over and over, that I was defining history incorrectly.

However, I am really quite certain that last night actually does fall into the category of history.    Setting aside any personal political preferences I may or may not have, my response is: mazel tov!

As far as I can tell, no one has more fun than these guys.  I never imagined a world where the Red Sox would get to celebrate, on a regular basis.  Life as a Red Sox fan always felt like this.

But, last night, something extra-special happened.  Two years ago, Jon Lester was a twenty-two year old rookie–with some back pain.  Unfortunately, to the shock of everyone involved, the diagnosis turned out to be cancer.  (Mike Lowell, the Red Sox third baseman, is also a cancer survivor, as it happens.)   Thankfully, he was able to fight the disease off, and resume his career–and in October 2007, guess who won the last game of the World Series?  Yes, that would be Jon Lester.

And last night, the man (nope, I’m not going to call him a “kid,” because I think he’s a Man) threw a no-hitter.  The last time a Red Sox left-hander accomplished that feat was in 1956.  So, what Mr. Lester did was very special–and his back-story only makes it more so.   It was great.  Really, really great.

This week, another young Red Sox player was diagnosed with cancer, and I just heard the sad news about Ted Kennedy, also.  And we can’t forget all of the people who are bravely fighting this disease (and other terrible diseases), day in and day out–but, not in the public eye.  I know–and admire–a few of them; I bet you do, too.

I am going to go right now and send a donation to one of my favorite charities, The Jimmy Fund.

I am not enjoying this campaign cycle.  I am not looking forward to November.  I have actually been surly and a bit short-tempered lately, as a direct result, which is–one likes to think–somewhat out of character.  So, it’s clearly time for a break.

Lucky for me, the Beloved Team can fill the breach!  After the long trip to Japan, the bizarre exhibition games in Los Angeles, and now, games in Oakland and Toronto, I expect the team to be somewhat sluggish out of the gate, but it’s a long season, and many days and nights of fun await one and all.  Recently, I happened to be talking to a Yankees fan (the team also known as The Evil Ones) on the street and was able to say, very kindly, something to the effect of “You all have a nice, little team.  Perhaps one of these years, you will be able to win a pennant again.”  Frankly, it made my day.  Possibly my century.

I saw Stop-Loss, and recommend it, but without wild enthusiasm.  It’s certainly not a great movie–and it might not even be a good one, but it’s a strong, and probably unnecessary, reminder that the situation in Iraq is an absolute disaster, and is almost certainly going to continue to be so for many, many years.  And Joseph Gordon-Levitt has–somewhat to my surprise, since I mostly just associate him with the fluffy, if fun, Third Rock from the Sun–become quite an interesting actor.

For anyone who hasn’t already heard that Joss Whedon has a new show coming out, starring Eliza Dushku, the plot sounds intriguing and I have already begun my official countdown, as I wait for the first episode to air. Ever since Ms. Dushku first swaggered onto the screen as Faith, I’ve been a fan, and am curious to see whether she really does have the untapped range I suspect lurks somewhere inside.

I enjoyed a Del’s Lemonade over the weekend.  It was from a mix, I think, and so, lacked the pieces of fresh lemon a sensible person prefers–but, I was still delighted to drink it.

And life is good when you get to have a traditional New England supper on a Saturday night.  Ours included home-made cole-slaw, with no mayonnaise, of course–since it is well-known among my people that the substance almost always dooms your salad to utter mediocrity.

Yesterday, a pal alerted me to the fact that Drugs are probably Bad.  Be warned!

Right now, that would be my preference. I won’t do it, because–in my opinion–only a weenie votes “Present,” but it certainly feels like a tempting choice.

Senator’s Obama’s speech this week was, for the most part, quite good. I don’t think it reinvented the wheel, but it was effective, and occasionally ambitious. A solid single, which a brave soul could probably stretch into a double–but, it wasn’t a home-run. (Mind you, no one else has even been stepping up to the plate, forget connecting with the ball, so some significant credit is definitely due.) A home-run requires an act of political courage–not a hasty, if well-written, response to intense media pressure. The same sort of speech could, and should, have been given months ago, simply because it was the right thing to do, and not because a cranky reverend popped off a few too many times. If one is going to be a visionary leader, it’s not enough to have vision–you also must lead.

A grand-slam home-run is when the speech is not only completely voluntary, but also–dare I say it–full of genuine audacity, scope, and risk. Risk is a major component of world-class political oratory, which simply doesn’t exist when one is carefully preserving one’s campaign, while preaching to the eager-to-be-converted. (It is good that many, many people want to change the way the United States operates, but political expediency is still political expediency.) A walk-off grand-slam home-run is when the speech is entirely extemporaneous, and in immediate response to a terrible crisis. Robert F. Kennedy, addressing Dr. King’s tragic murder comes to mind. A speech which is mostly given to further one’s own personal fortunes–even a very good one–simply doesn’t belong anywhere in the same category.

It was fine. It was intelligent. It was a nice start. I hope he sent his grandmother some flowers.

I also kind of think that a true leader isn’t afraid to roll the dice and have Michigan and Florida re-vote.

How swell it would be if Senator Clinton suddenly spoke–out of the blue, at length, and from the heart–about gender. However, if she did, I suspect she would be pilloried by one and all, for being a less gifted speaker, and for discussing a subject the media has long since made clear that it considers entirely unimportant. And, unfortunately, it would smack of “me, too!”, and she would be accused of political opportunism. It probably would be opportunistic, but that wouldn’t make it wrong, or irrelevant.

It is very clear that the Democratic Party is not going to allow any scenario which would result in her receiving the nomination. Superdelegates will not be permitted to fulfill their duties–unless, of course, they are named–oh, say–Governor Bill Richardson, or the increasingly transparent Nancy Pelosi. (Senator Clinton won New Mexico and California, which means that the will of the People in those two states was for her to–oh, never mind. The rules aren’t allowed to be changed in the middle of the game–except for when they are changed in the middle of the game. I sense that the Party specifically wants Speaker Pelosi to land the fatal blow, in the end, to make it appear slightly more palatable. Very slightly.)

Senator Clinton is going to lose. It stinks, but there it is. It’s partially her fault, for not running a tighter, smarter, bolder campaign–but, even though I remain convinced that she is a much stronger general election candidate, and would be a far superior President, it’s just not going to happen. If Senator Obama keeps stumbling regularly, and it appears as though she really still might have a chance, I assume that former President Carter, or Al Gore, will grab the ax from Speaker Pelosi and forcefully end the campaign for good.

Which will mean that pretty much all Senator McCain has to do to cruise to the Presidency is–stay awake. And not pick a total loon as his Vice-President.

If I were Senator Clinton’s pal, I’d tell her to pull out. They’re not going to let her win, even if she takes the popular vote, so there’s nothing to gain. And I would be willing to bet a great deal of money I don’t have, that in November, when Senator Obama turns out to be Professor Harold Hill, without the deus ex machina, Hilary will be the one who gets blamed. So, she should be wily, and tough–and fall on her sword.

I think she should sit down with the Powers That Be in a back room, and say, “I can win without him, but he can’t win without me, so here’s how it’s going to go.” (His supporters–as is invariably true during Democratic primary seasons–tend to be on the most liberal side of the Party, and won’t defect to Senator McCain; a certain percentage of her supporters will.)

Although, obviously, this is the gift which keeps on giving.

Anyway, in exchange for her warm, whole-hearted support throughout the fall campaign, Senator Clinton’s minimum price should be Senate Majority Leader or, possibly, the next seat on the Supreme Court. And, among other things, she should also insist that he re-think his health-care plan, and require a mandate–because it doesn’t have a shot in hell of working, otherwise. In addition, Senator Obama should be required to praise her–in public, even!–for putting the Party first, against her better interests, and he needs to sound a whole lot better than this. (Yes, for anyone keeping score at home, I thought Senator Obama was making an ill-advised, premature run before he even declared, but that was one of several moments which has helped to reinforce my gut feeling that, inclusive rhetoric aside, he is not a very nice person–and, as I have said before, is actually just a left-wing, eloquent version of President Bush.)

It’s not the way I wanted to see the path to the Democratic nomination end, and I dread November, but I’m afraid that all that is really left for Senator Clinton’s campaign is a salvage operation.

On a more cheery note, this is fun.

And I wish I could do this.

Maybe I will go eat some of these.

Senator Obama did not ask for my advice. Surprisingly, his campaign rarely calls me, and almost never writes. (and when they do, they just want money.)

But, tomorrow–today, actually, as I look at the clock–the Senator should, in my opinion, not opt for lofty rhetoric, or defensiveness, or repudiate anyone. He should not prevaricate, or obfuscate, or even hesitate. It will, no doubt, be tempting to try and walk down the road Dr. Martin Luther King so brilliantly paved, and I’m sure Senator Obama could deliver an inspiring speech, albeit an inevitably less ground-breaking and indelible one. But, with the Democratic Party–and, in too many ways, and for too many reasons, the entire country–currently teetering angrily on the edge of despair, I think he should channel Harry S. Truman, instead.

Be honest. Be direct. Be humble. Tell the truth. Don’t mince words. Shoot straight. (And one must never forget that President Truman was a man who abruptly made history with a single bold signature on a vital document.)

I will quote the crucial passage: “It is hereby declared to be the policy of the President that there shall be equality of treatment and opportunity for all persons in the armed services without regard to race, color, religion or national origin.” (Would I like to see gender and sexual orientation in there, too? You bet. But, life is flawed, and in recent years, the formerly glorious concept of a sweeping executive order has been egregiously abused.)

America has a tangled, and distressing, racial history. It is endlessly confusing, and complicated, and infuriating, and it is hard to believe that there is anyone who has ever even been to the United States, who doesn’t have strong opinions about race–and the other categories and concepts which are used to try and put people in tiny little boxes, and limit and diminish us all. People hear coded words where they don’t exist–and sometimes miss them entirely in what appear to be benign remarks. Everyone, invariably, feels as though they have to walk on those proverbial eggshells–and I daresay that most of us bitterly resent it, on the occasions when we feel as though we are being pushed in directions where we don’t want to go.

I, personally, have never cared whether anyone agrees with my opinion, but I unfailingly want to be treated with respect–even on those (one likes to think, very rare) occasions when I don’t particularly deserve it. And, I operate under the presumption that, if I make my best effort to treat others with respect, too, they will be kind enough to overlook my mistakes, and I will try as hard as I can to respond accordingly.

Sometimes, I fail. That’s the way it goes. Ideally, though, you try again–and, with luck, do better the next time out.

I have many very strong opinions–about faith, politics, race, gender, sports, you name it. And I know that sometimes I make assumptions about people based upon things as seemingly trivial as whether they like cats. (Full disclosure: I like cats. It is not required for other people to like cats, but I expect them never to say anything offensive about my cats. Because, frankly, that would be impolite.)

I don’t like guns. Many other people do. I don’t get it. But, that doesn’t mean that we can’t try to find common ground. (Unless, of course, someone tries to shoot one of my cats–but, I hope not to encounter that particular situation.)

I have wildly conflicting opinions about religion, and worry about this quite a lot. Once, at a church I had attended for many years, the priest–and the congregation, as a whole–did something which offended my sensibilities to the degree that, once they had all settled down, I walked out in the most dramatic way imaginable, and even slammed the door. I like to think they noticed–but, maybe not.

I deplore a number of things that the United States government has done in my name–but that doesn’t mean that I don’t get very upset when people don’t bother taking their hats off while the National Anthem plays at baseball games. And yet, by virtue of the First Amendment, they are certainly free not to do so–and I guess I am equally free to find it extremely disrespectful.

I don’t like war; I do like soldiers. I don’t like rules, but I do like laws. I think Harry Potter is just silly, but Buffy is cool.

Life is a muddle.

I want Senator Obama to be direct tomorrow. Unflinching. Clear. Brave.

He has a chance for A Moment.

I hope he grabs it.

I want to wake up, and have Al Gore getting ready to finish his second term. We all have health care. The economy continues to operate with a large surplus. The Kyoto Accord has been scrapped–because it wasn’t ambitious enough, and the new treaty is much better. Since we now have independent, renewable sources of energy, Saudi Arabia has lost much of its influence–and the rulers have been forced to start being nicer to women. (of all things!) Saddam is probably still in power, but he’s a completely marginalized loon, and the Gore Administration has been focused on trying to help Israel’s neighbors learn how to co-exist with an actual staunch democracy, and treat other countries in the region as genuine allies.

Many things have happened during the past eight years, but the best part of all is that the World Trade Center is standing right where it always was. It’s still not attractive, but it’s tall, and we’re fond of it, and thousands of people go to work there every day–and come home safely at night.

Sigh.

Instead, we’re living in a nightmare, and increasingly, Democrats are part of the problem. I’m not sure I want to post any links, because even space aliens have been sitting at their dinner tables all week saying, “whoa, this is out of control, when’s Opening Day?” (Side-note: life really is topsy-turvy, because President Bush was pretty funny.)

And James Carville is suddenly the voice of reason. I’m starting to think that we actually are living in a world without shrimp.

My grandmother–a person I miss absolutely every day–used to have a saying, “God don’t love ugly.” Mostly, she said it when my sisters and I quarreled–which was often. And if she were watching this current election campaign, I believe she would have me pour her some more sherry and say, “Honey, let’s put on some stories.” (”Stories,” being soap operas or television dramas.) We would be entertained. We would enjoy snacks. Life would be delightful.

I was watching CNN today, which showed a very lengthy clip of an angry reverend’s sermon, after which, the commentator said–with no sense of irony, “That was given on December 25th, 2007″ or words to that effect. In other words, it was Christmas. Which, within the context of the Christian faith, is generally considered kind of a Happy Day. Instead, the parishioners were bombarded with a stream of invective. I have to say, that is not a church I would attend twice–nor would I buy the CDs/DVDs/whatever, in order to listen to the shouting again at my leisure. (So, it goes without saying that I would not go again and again for twenty years–until, finally, my own personal ambition forced me to take the spiritual mentor from whom I purloined the title of my best-selling book–and throw him under a bus.)

This, of course, after tossing Samantha Power onto the subway tracks, while the other campaign hurled Geraldine Ferraro out of an airplane–and, well, God don’t love ugly. (obviously, insert your own higher-power-of-choice–or no higher power whatsoever–into that statement, to make it fit within your personal belief system.)

Can the grown-ups come out and play now? Are there any grown-ups left?

Here is what I think is going to happen. Senator Obama will be the nominee in November–and he will lose. It won’t be pretty, and if Senator McCain is wily enough to pick Colin Powell or Elizabeth Dole or someone of similar stature as a running mate, it will be an absolute landslide. You can crunch the numbers right and left, but Senator Clinton isn’t going to be able to pull the Democratic nomination out–without half of the Party sitting at home in November and sulking, as they toss their beanbags up and down in the air. I think the smart move would have been for her to pull out quite some time ago, let Senator Obama take the complete blame for the upcoming November debacle, and then learn from her mistakes and run a much better campaign in 2012. But, I’m pretty sure she is going to keep scuffling all the way to Denver–and the end result will be that two potentially fine Presidents are going to crash and burn. There’s something to be said for being a statesman or woman–and I sure as hell haven’t seen one in either campaign lately.

So disappointing. So unnecessary. So incredibly short-sighted, and stupid. The only thing I can say with reasonable certainty is that I have no intention of voting for anyone I do not consider a grown-up. Which puts me in quite a pickle.

All things being equal, I found this site more interesting than anything else I read today–although it is, by no means, cheery.

However, I was here recently, and it was excellent.

And I don’t like the war, but this is cool.

Finally saw Juno. Totally dug it. If I were ever involved with a movie–a scenario I do not anticipate, frankly–I would want Ellen Page to be in it. I am looking forward to seeing Smart People next month.

I wish that I did not strongly believe this–but, I do, and have yet to come across anything at all to convince myself that the Democratic Party is not currently careening towards disaster. (Actually, a large percentage of the Party seems to be willingly marching in that direction, complete with angry words and beatific smiles on their faces–but, that is not an opinion which will make me popular, or beloved.) I have always believed that our Current Emperor ran for President simply because, with so many others footing the bill and doing the heavy lifting, he could. A Presidential campaign is good fun and so forth, but actually being the President, and handling unexpected crises, is another matter entirely. Getting lauded and applauded is delightful; engaging in the tedium, compromise, and hard work of governing is another thing entirely.

There’s no question that running for President is a nasty business, and no single candidate is going to be perfect–or even mostly perfect. But, after eight years of an Emperor who only feels comfortable when he looks like this, it would be a nice change to have a President who works too hard.

It is a flight of fancy, of course, but imagine the afternoon of January 21, 2009. Millions of people all over the world have tuned in to watch a new President be inaugurated–and it is safe to assume that at least half of them will be unhappy about it. Many of them will, in fact, be downright hostile and full of vituperative remarks. But, regardless, the President speaks, and is inspiring, or workmanlike–or simply a disturbing echo of the previous Administration. In any case, it is now late afternoon, the festivities are over, and the new President has returned to the White House. If one were to abandon all preconceptions and fiercely-held political leanings, and simply guess, in the most honest and objective way, which of the three probable leaders would be the most likely to race directly down to the Oval Office, pick up a pen–and get to work, who would be your first pick? If you had to bet the kids’ college fund, and your IRA, and the fortunes of your favorite baseball team from now until the end of time–what visual image would pop immediately into your head? Even if the image makes you cringe, who did you see?

However, it seems likely that the Democratic Party will Anoint Another–and that, as a direct result, on the afternoon of January 21st, 2009, John McCain will be up in the Residence, taking a quick nap, before getting dressed to go to the Inaugural Balls.

Tony Rezko is a problem. Donnie McClurkin is also a problem. (Yes, I yearn for the clarity and courage of this man. )

Making a back-channel contact with a foreign government to assure them that your strongly-held position is just posturing is a problem.

Crumpling under the first tiny flurry of negative press attention is a problem.

Not holding vitally needed subcommittee hearings, when you are the chairperson–and, among other things, America happens to be fighting two poorly-planned wars with little or no help from our allies–is a problem.

Skipping tough votes on a regular basis–when you want to be the Leader of the Free World–is a problem.

Voting “present” 129 times, even as an arcane tactical maneuver, is a problem.

Talking about unity and change, without actually displaying any evidence of leadership, is a problem.

There are, in fact, a lot of problems–but, they are infinitesimal compared to the absolute nightmare of a mess, both foreign and domestic, which the next President will face from the very moment he or she takes the oath of office. So, charming and pleasant are not high on my list of qualities that our next commander in chief needs to have.  I just don’t think we have that luxury this time.

This showed maturity and wisdom. I wish his intellect had prevailed over his ego. America is, after all, still going to need a seasoned, talented President in 2016.

It is a small state, but a delightful one–where, as it happens, I grew up.

Rhode Island makes the best lemonade in the world.

We enjoy tasty treats like coffee milk and johnnycakes. And if you are homesick, you can always order delicacies from the Ocean State, or attempt to prepare them yourself.

There are great beaches–and if you are peculiar enough to enjoy seafood, there are many fine spots to sample local traditions like clam cakes. (I do not care for them, but I am very much in the minority. The restaurants are nifty, in any case.)

You can get an excellent education, even though you may speak with an odd accent. Regardless, we tend to be a happy group of people, because things like this make us laugh our heads off.

Proms are held at fun places.

It is possible to watch the Baby Red Sox for less than ten dollars a ticket.

I learned how to ski in Rhode Island.

The mayor of Providence was my pal in high school. I hope he runs for governor, during the next election cycle–and have no doubt that he would win.

I love the way the state votes!

Which, famously, describes our current President–and, I’m afraid, also describes Senator Obama. Too much hubris, not enough policy details. Or even any. Granted, the left-wing version of the current Administration would be an improvement over the last seven years, but unless McCain picks Huckabee as his running mate and frightens everyone, I think we may be looking at a Republican landslide.

I’m not a huge fan of its author, but this is a good piece.

I am, however, extremely fond of Mr. Krugman.

Everywhere I went on Super Tuesday, I ran into Obama supporters, who were literally running around in circles and screaming “Yes, we can!” with glazed looks in their eyes. At best, it was embarrassing, but it also felt–deranged. I would love to be inspired by a candidate, and feel wildly excited and so forth–but, not to the point of losing reason. Surely, there is something to be said for dignity? Call me crazy, but I want an adult to run the country. A sensible one. In any case, I feel as though lately, life has been one demoralizing defeat after another. (I will not discuss–now or ever–what happened to a team which will go unmentioned until next season. But, I took it hard. There might even have been a bit of weeping involved.)

Apropos of nothing in particular, she continues to be a mysterious, somewhat perplexing figure.

My friend Barbara sent me a very funny card from this site. If you have the right kind of slightly sick sense of humor, I highly recommend it.

For those of us who like photography, this is kind of neat. They’re starting their second series of 100 on Monday.

And, if you were very kindly making up a gift list for me–which is always a delightful idea–please put this at the top. I did not know, until I became a bit of a photography wonk, that one can lust for gear. I am currently saving up for a 300mm 2.8 lens–and expect to be able to afford one in no more than two or three years. Sigh.

If you are sensible enough to be a Battlestar Galactica fan, you will enjoy this. Dark is good. And, I don’t care what anyone says–Anders is wicked handsome.

This makes life worth living.

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