I am not a particularly political person; politics to me is often slow, dirty, frustrating and interlaced with lies. Personal agendas too often get in the way of wise governing, leading to missed opportunities all too often.
Yet I cannot understate the inspiration and hope that comes from Barack Obama’s acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention. I recently noted the power of presentation skills, and Obama’s oratory is nothing short of gifted. This is a man unlike anything the United States has experienced at the executive level in decades: invigorating, compelling, astounding.
That a mixed-race man with a black wife and family can rise to a party nomination for President of the United States amazes me. That the nominee can be so rich with his communication skills, eloquent, smart and embracing, gives me hope for the future.
I remain suspect whether America as a whole is ready to embrace such a sweeping level of change. Obama represents everything Washington is not, from his race to his generation. I’d be disappointed but not surprised if the nation showed its aversion to change and elected John McCain as a safe choice. And mind you, I do believe that McCain is also a decent presidential candidate: not someone with whom I agree, but a man of integrity, maturity, perspective and wit, who would represent a vast improvement over the sad state of affairs of the past few years.
But this country has an amazing opportunity this fall to elect a true leader, a man who inspires people to participate, who turns the heads of the indifferent, who already holds the attention and respect of foreign leaders, who has the appeal to fill football stadiums with people who wish to hear him speak. I hope Obama gets the chance to fulfill his potential. The nation and the world will be a better place for believing in him.
Category: Observed (Page 10 of 24)
Long Beach Island, NJ, has some of the corniest and punniest business names still in existence on the eastern seaboard. Among those I spotted this weekend:
House of the Rising Bun
Sunsations
Sunglass Menagerie
Chicken or the Egg
Big Dipper Ice Cream
Pottery Barge
Just Beachy
Just Bead It
Barry’s Do Me a Flavor
Say Cheese
Also spotted more than once: the phrase “own make candy,” which my lovely wife of five years deciphered as “we do it ourselves,” but which linguistically we’re still trying to comprehend. And then there’s the “coin op laundry/ravioli to take out” sign….
The enterprising boys in apartment 1F of my building have, since last summer, run a lemonade stand by the building entrance, on the corner of the street. Last year, the older boy set up shop with his mother’s baking, a pitcher of sweet drink, and a folding table. Toward the end of the summer, our handyman built him an honest-to-goodness wooden lemonade stand, tall and cute and beautifully painted, with a countertop and note-perfect “Lemonade” signs on the awning.
This summer, the younger brother has taken over the stand. He and a gregarious friend set up shop every weekday afternoon, bringing out the lemonade stand, which now includes a typed note explaining how Luis built this wonderful stand for them, and an appropriately youthful sign, taped to the side of the building, stating that “all money goes to Alzheimer’s research” (properly spelled, and with no mention of “proceeds,” which would have entitled them to skim funds).
I’m a big fan of the stand, and almost as big a fan of the mom’s baking skills, so I buy chocolate chip cookies from them (two for $1) a few times a week. They’re not the best salesmen, but they are reliable, diligent and raising money for charity. Seeing them at their stand is one of the purest joys I have experienced since moving uptown.
As of yesterday, the stand has competition. A different set of kids set up shop on the other side of the building, midblock but closer to the front door. They had lemonade and iced tea, but no food: “We have these brownies,” said one, “but we’re eating them for dinner.” So I bought an iced tea from them, which prompted an honest-to-goodness customer service inquiry: “Would you like it mixed with lemonade?” And suddenly I’m getting an Arnold Palmer from a 10-year-old on the sidewalk. The new kids are chatty and numerous–I think I saw 6 of them selling or playing nearby–but they don’t have signage yet.
I’m waiting to see how this shakes out. Will there be turf wars? Price cuts? Variety on the lemonade stands, all competing for my business?
In the meantime, I am all smiles when I finally get home. And a few bucks lighter.
A large banner hangs across Route 202 in New Jersey, a few miles from where it crosses Route 23:
WELCOME TO LINCOLN PARK
Voted FIFTH-BEST town to live in NJ!
America: land of the free, home of the myopic.
California Supreme Court Overturns Gay Marriage Ban. This is tremendous, forward-thinking, constitutionally appropriate news. The United States is where people are supposed to be free from oppression, and this kind of decision is a thoughtful interpretation of that.
So what do gay marriage opponents want to do? Change the Constitution. I won’t go deeply into the pro argument and my views on the subject (now apparent); I am here instead to pass along this quote:
“The court was wrong from top to bottom on this one,” said Maggie Gallagher, president of the National Organization for Marriage. “The court brushed aside the entire history and meaning of marriage in our tradition.”
In our tradition. Whose tradition? Religious Christians? Fundamentalist California residents? Maggie Gallagher’s family?
That statement lays bare all that is wrong with the anti-gay-marriage argument. American law is not just about tradition; proper interpretations are not a this-is-how-we’ve-always-done-it discussion. No, the law is about, or should be about, what is fair and just and sensible and appropriate, as thoughtful, wise people would approach society, had they a clean slate to properly adjust society’s ways.
The gay marriage law isn’t about doing things “traditionally,” nor is it about making Maggie Gallagher and her peers comfortable with homosexuality, which is their own problem. No, the law is about doing right by individuals who have done no wrong. And someday, at least theoretically, a majority of Americans will view this subject as they do issues of race and religion, as a differentiator that by and large defines our society in a positive light.
Perhaps it is too much to ask, but one can hope.
Friday night. We’re at Almost an Evening, the Ethan Coen play, at an intimate theater on Bleecker Street. Thirty-four-weeks along, Amy is experiencing the usual late-stage pregnancy issues, so we situate ourselves fairly close to the restroom, which, due to the layout of the theater, requires walking past the stage in front of the audience.
The play is three one-acts without an intermission. Amy excuses herself between the second and third. Unfortunately for her, the stagehands work fast, and the third act kicks in while she’s away.
F. Murray Abraham and Mark-Linn Baker are on stage, engaged in debate as two gods. Abraham is in Moses garb: white tunic, moccasins, long flowing gray hair, beard. He is deep into a tongue-in-cheek monologue full of swearing.
Amy has to get back to her seat, so over she comes, stage right, past the front row and up to her third-row aisle seat. She wants to be invisible, but no luck.
F. Murray Abraham’s monologue stops short. A glimmer in his eye, he glowers at Amy’s back as she climbs the stairs. The room collapses in laughter.
There’s a pregnant pause in the show, long enough for her to turn to me, nervously, and ask, “What’s so funny?”
“He just glared at you,” I say.
We look back at the stage, and a second later, Abraham is making eye contact with Amy.
“Was it something I said?” he bellows. The room cracks up again.
“No, really, I love pregnant women,” he says. “You go anytime you want.”
Abraham is still in voice but the play is fully derailed by now. Peals of laughter fill the theater. People are applauding. Abraham buries his face in his hands to hide his own smile.
He steps back to the podium, looks down, then around the room, and commandingly says: “Where was I!”
More laughter. Amy is about ready to die by now, but Abraham laughingly says, “I lost my place,” then regains his rhythm and the show goes on.
The rest of the play was decent; the first act was the best, but the inadvertent cameo stole the show.
On the subway platform afterward, a woman with a light British accent approached us on the play, and asked with a smile, “So outside of your scene, what did you think?”
“For better or worse,” I replied, “her scene was the funniest of the night.”
So much new knowledge:
~ The Close Door elevator button doesn’t do anything except pacify impatient riders.
~ Clarins, my former employer, who has sworn for years that it wants to remain independent, is installing a new CEO as the son of the founder steps down, throwing his and his brother’s majority family ownership into long-term question.
~ Lancome, Orlane and Sisley, three major beauty brands, were all founded by different generations of the same family. (Side learning: reading T Magazine online is abhorrent.)
~ The infamous waiting list for Hermes Birkin bags doesn’t exist.
~ And, not least, this taste-test of dogs’ preferences for gourmet treats versus good ol’ Milk-Bones. No spoilers here.
In my Facebook news feed today:
What a great quote from AT&T CEO Randall Stephenson: “If I had a business that half the product we turned out was defective or you couldn’t put into the marketplace, I would shut that business down.”
Swallow hard, then think about what Stephenson is citing: American high school graduation rates. He says the labor pool is so thin that AT&T has been unable to fill job vacancies with Americans, forcing the businesses to remain in India for staffing purposes.
The facts seem borderline absurd, but a few minutes of research reveals it’s even worse than it seems. Some studies quote America’s nationwide high school graduation rate at just 71 percent, and the state of Georgia barely graduates half its students, like Stephenson says. Statewide! One town falling below 50% is bad; this is an entire state at 54%. Several cities, like Cleveland, barely get above 25%.
Even if this isn’t fully accurate, it’s awfully dire. Americans underappreciating eduation is nothing new. But when American companies have to outsource their labor to maintain quality, not just save costs, the signs point to a far more serious situation.
Daylight Saving Wastes Energy, Study Says, on WSJ.com.
We knew this. We just didn’t want to listen.
Previously on the Ideapad:
“Extending DST won’t ‘save energy’ just by keeping the sun up later. Lights will still need to run overnight on highways, city streets, and 24-hour facilities, and most stores won’t change their operating hours.” —July 19, 2005 (I missed air conditioning, but I’ll take it)
See also Endless Summer in the New York Times, August 9, 2005 (previously linked here).