Bastille Day

David McCullough, writing in the New York Times, reminds us of the reasons why Americans should be toasting the French on July 14. No indiscriminate francophile I, but we (and especially the "freedom fries" crowd) need periodic reminding that if it hadn't been for the French army, navy, and bankroll at the battle of Yorktown, we'd still be singing "God Save the Queen".

Yesterday's Daily Beast listed the 20 most dangerous jobs in America. Close scrutiny failed to turn up blogging among them, and yet, and yet…

On April Fool's Day, I was blithely processing a post when I decided to get a Coke™ from the fridge. As I rose from my desk, one of the computer cables dangling thereunder snared my ankle, and I pitched forward onto my hip, fracturing my femur as I hit the floor. The floor was unfazed.

Yesterday, I returned home after two weeks of surgical repair and physical therapy.

I suspect that the rats' nest of wires under my desk resembles that of many of my colleagues, so please take this posting as a cautionary tale and CLEAN IT UP before you have to bring someone in to do it for you while you watch from your wheelchair.

Liz and Me

Allow me to try your patience by adding a few more words to the millions already penned and processed on the death of Elizabeth Taylor.

First off, I would refer you to an article in the New York Times by the indefatigable Dick Cavett. As a brief personal take on the Lizanddick
era, it's worth a read.

Then there's the story-captured-in-a-caption in The Onion, an item that has challenged press critics as to its editorial appropriateness, even conceding The Onion's self-appointed role as edgy iconoclast.

And, finally, there's the story of Liz and me.

One of the great untold sagas of unrequited love in the last century was my own obsession with Liz. It got underway in wartime, the background of so many equally doomed romances. In 1944—when I was 14 and she 12—I emerged from the dark confines of our local movie palace having watched National Velvet, the stars in my eyes undimmed by the post-matinee sunlight, entranced by my first passionate crush.

Fast forward six years to the Hurricane Club, an upscale eating spot built on pilings in the shallows of Biscayne Bay between Miami and Key Biscayne well before the advent of the bay-spanning Rickenbacker Causeway. You could only get there by boat, and my ride that day was a 19-foot sailboat, helmed by my college roommate, Jack O'Leary. As we pulled up to the club's dock to tie up—a frosty Bud in mind—I glanced up, and there, leaning over the deck rail watching us, was the goddess herself. To say that I was stuck dumb at the vision is to stretch rhetorical understatement to the limit. She was accompanied by her then-boyfriend Glen Davis, the Heisman-winning "Mr. Inside" of West Point's famous "Touchdown Twins", of which Doc Blanchard was "Mr. Outside".

The couple was waiting for guests to arrive for a private luncheon, so the four of us were as yet the only patrons lounging around the deck. O'Leary and I, sophisticated, celebrity-immune New Yorkers that we were, pretended ostentatiously not to notice the glamorous duo, while they, used to such transparent pseudo-indifference, were of course well aware of our surreptitious glances. Lord, was she gorgeous! The countless words that have been written about her breathtaking onscreen beauty cannot begin to convey the punch-in-the-gut impact of an in-the-flesh encounter. At 18, wearing a violet bathing suit that mirrored the color of her eyes, her voluptuousness was simply beyond the descriptive ability of mere words, or, at least, of any that haven't lost their power through overuse.

Draining our barely-affordable beer, Jack and I reluctantly peeled ourselves away and re-boarded our boat. As I loosed the mooring line, the goddess, again leaning over the rail, asked me if I knew what time it was. SHE SPOKE TO ME! SHE ACTUALLY SPOKE TO ME! Still unable—Koothrappali-like—to utter a word in her intoxicating presence, I had, to my shame and chagrin, to leave it up to O'Leary to respond. As we set our sails, he shouted out a farewell so inane that it has haunted me all these years just to have been associated with it: "see you in the movies", he yelled, as I cringed in the cockpit. I've never forgiven him, nor forgotten her.

RIP, girl of my youthful dreams.

 

 

 

Public Broadcasting: Boon or Burden?

Regarding the latest Congressional assault on NPR and PBS, In These Times blogger Megan Tady writes,

"Congressional attacks on public media seem to come as regularly as NPR fundraising drives. Every year, as the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) pleas for federal funding, some members of Congress denounce public media altogether, while others quietly vote to shave off another sliver of subsidies, rather than eliminate all funding. In the end, the CPB limps away still intact, but wounded".

As I write, the House has voted to defund CPB and the Senate is deliberating.

Given PBS's never-ending fiscal worries, one might well speculate that they should never have abandoned their original appellation, National Educational Television (NET), the banner under which they marched from 1954 to 1970. No doubt they wanted at the time to differentiate themselves from etv (educational television), a broadcast and closed-circuit platform that offered classroom-format telecourses on academic subjects to early risers before such programming was subsumed into NET and, subsequently, into PBS.

I suggest that any entity chasing government funding will undoubtedly find politicians more favorably disposed toward the term educational (as in NET) than toward the descriptive adjective public (as in PBS and CPB), a loaded word carrying socialistic connotations to conservatives already agitated over the perceived leftist slant of PBS and NPR. To briefly address that particular mind-set, I refer you to a UCLA/U. of Missouri study that found that the top-rated NPR news program, Morning Edition, is seen by the citizenry as more liberal than the average Republican and more conservative than the average Liberal. They must be doing something right.

Furthermore, in a Harris poll conducted in 2005, NPR was voted the most trusted news source in the U.S., while Roper polls commissioned by PBS have consistently placed that service as America's most trusted national institution.

Education is a topic much beloved by Congress. The last major federal education bill, No Child Left Behind, sailed through both chambers on roll call votes of 384-45 in the House and 91-8 in the Senate. An informed electorate has been a touchstone of our republic since the days of the Founding Fathers, and no matter your political ideology, the essential mission of educational television is, incontrovertibly, education. Studies conducted by the polling firm Knowledge Networks and the U. of Maryland found that "those who get their news and information from public broadcasting (NPR and PBS) are better informed than those whose information comes from other media outlets. In one study, NPR and PBS audiences had a more accurate understanding of the events in Iraq versus all audiences [emphasis mine] for cable and broadcast TV networks and the print media." While this finding may be more an example of reinforcement than of cause and effect, it seems a no-brainer to conclude that regular exposure to educational media doesn't make us any dumber and may even make us a bit smarter; a consequence certainly worth the $1.50 per capita that Congress is being asked to grant to CPB.

Even if the Senate and the White House are able to override the House's defunding of CPB, leaving it alive to fight another day, public broadcasting should nevertheless attempt to retrofit its mantle as an educational institution and consider pursuing some appropriate alternative form of supplementary underwriting. The media reform group Free Press suggests a Public Trust to be funded either by spectrum use fees, UHF auction fees or a nominal tax on consumer electronics. This would of course take years to accomplish, so CPB will have to continue dependent upon federal help to close the gap in the interim, a dependency that this Congress will hopefully recognize as a legitimate social benefit and loosen the purse strings accordingly. I would urge readers to contact their Senators to that end.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should note that, after a career in commercial network television, I was briefly employed by WNET/13 in New York, and one of my daughters currently works for WGBH in Boston.

SPQR Follies

ROME – Court documents filed here reveal that Vladimir Putin is suing 18-year-old Moroccan belly dancer Karima el Mahrough, aka Ruby "The Heartbreaker" Rubacuari, for alienation of the affections of Italian PM Silvio Berlusconi, 74, aka "Il Cavaliere".

Veronica Lario Berlusconi, 53, aka "the long-suffering wife", is already suing her husband for divorce.

Cardinal Tarsisio Bertone, aka Vatican Secretary of State, asked today that, "those who have … public responsibility take on a commitment to the most robust morality". Fr. Bertone, it is widely reported, has been living on Pluto since Vatican II. Meanwhile, PM Berlusconi allegedly responded at a subsequent cabinet meeting that "such comments were not directed at him".

The U.S. High Command, which maintains 100 military installations in Italy (including the notorious extraordinary rendition base at Catania, aka "Sigonella") at the whim of the Italian government of the moment, is reluctant to file an amicus curiae brief since it is not sure which side to come down on.

Stay tuned to Wikileaks ("we expose, you decide") for further developments.

Hamlet Had a BlackBerry?

Hamlet's BlackBerry: A Practical Philosophy For Building A Good Life In The Digital Age

By William Powers.

HarperCollins Publishers, New York, 2010

Hardcover, 267pp., $24.99

 

Reviewed by Art Kane

 

In 2006, while a Fellow at Harvard's Shorenstein Center, media & technology writer William Powers authored a Discussion Paper titled, Hamlet's BlackBerry: Why Paper is Eternal.

Powers' essay was a paean to paper, that remarkably versatile, tactile and enduring commodity invented by the Chinese in 105 A.D. and lauded by Powers as: "the most successful communications innovation of the last 2000 years, [and] the one…that has had the profoundest effect upon civilization." He went on to observe with dismay the increasingly precipitous departure of print from our daily lives, as evidenced primarily by the parlous situation of the newspaper. The page, he lamented, was being displaced by the screen.

That erosion subsequently accelerated as the Recession and its aftermath have seen scores of newspapers and magazines disappear from newsstands and mailboxes; albeit many were replaced —or augmented —by online editions. We are not, it would appear, seeing the end of journalism, as some have prognosticated, but, rather, the demise of paper as the primary conveyor of the written word.

Powers concluded his essay by casting a reportorial eye on Electronic Paper Displays (EPD), a technology then (and still) in development that underpins Amazon's Kindle, Sony's Reader, and similar devices. What intrigues is not so much the gee-whizness of the technology, but that its ultimate aim is to replicate paper as much as possible; i.e., to be portable, roll-able, foldable, and stick-it-in-your-pocket reader-friendly.

Four years and 267 pages later, the author brings us up to the present day with the publication of Hamlet's BlackBerry: a Practical Philosophy for Building a Good Life in the Digital Age, in which he observes with equal — if not greater — dismay the degree to which the internet has taken over our lives. Unrelieved connectedness, advises Powers, changes
"the nature of everyday life, making it more frantic and rushed. And we're losing something of great value, a way of thinking and moving through time that can be summed up in a single word: depth. Depth of thought and feeling, depth in our relationships, our work and everything we do. Since depth is what makes life fulfilling and meaningful, it's astounding that we're allowing this to happen."

Powers is fortunate that he doesn't have to work in an office, where the audio-visual information bombardment can be relentless. But, even at home in Orleans where he writes, unmitigated connectedness can be pervasive. So, seeking the objective relief implicit in the book's title, he skillfully guides us through centuries of philosophical engagement with the age-old problem of the world being too much with us. From Plato on the principle of Distance, he goes on to Seneca on Inner Space, Ben Franklin on Positive Rituals, Thoreau on Walden Zones, and, finally, to McLuhan on Lowering the Inner Thermostat.

It is not possible in a brief review to capsulize the vast range of thought to which the author introduces us. Suffice it to say that he does indeed deliver on his title's promise. In his own personal life, Powers, his wife (author Martha Sherrill), and their son William have devised (and learned to live contentedly with) what they call the Internet Sabbath. Every Friday night, the Powers household modem is unplugged and stays that way until Monday morning. No Luddites they; the radio, the TV the DVR and the phone stay connected. It is only the Internet that spends its weekends in Coventry. To be sure, there lurks a suspicion in this reviewer's mind that, regardless of the disconnect, a certain amount of off-line electronic activity takes place. We are, after all, talking about a couple of writers.

As to that BlackBerry in the book's title, it seems that in Hamlet's time (or, at least, in Shakespeare's), those of princely means, education, and inclination were wont to carry on their persons a palm-sized "table" (think: tablet) of pages coated with a plaster-like material upon which they could inscribe with a stylus (and readily expunge) notes, drawings, calculations, and other jottings; a sort of medieval Etch-A-Sketch, or, if you will, a rudimentary PDA. Powers uses this device not only as a metaphor for any gadget that helps people to manage their daily lives, but as an example of the continued usefulness of old (and familiar) technologies that have been adapted into contemporary forms; to wit: his ever-at-hand Moleskine notebook that he finds far more accommodating to note-taking than a PDA. Why? Because it liberates him from the tyranny of the ever-glowing screen, while having the salutary attribute of being made out of that marvelous stuff, paper.

                    

This review was commissioned by, and originally appeared in, The Barnstable Patriot, 8/20/10. Posted with permission.

History Buff Alert

We have the New York Times to thank for bringing this fascinating piece of history to our attention.