Big Day in France

Even if you haven't watched a lick of this year's Tour de France, you should set your DVR to OLN to catch Saturday's stage, which promises to be the most exciting since 1989, when American Greg LeMond overcame a 50-second deficit during the penultimate stage, a 24.5 kilometer time trial, to best Frenchman Laurent Fignon. (Fignon's loss was partly due to his refusal to wear an aerodynamic helmet because it didn't seem very Gallic to him not to let his blonde locks flow stylishly in the breeze.)

This year, it's American Floyd Landis who is 30 seconds off the lead going into an individual time trial on the second to last day of the Tour. Two days ago, Landis was written off as a contender when he bonked (ran out of energy) on a climb and lost the yellow jersey, finishing eight minutes off the lead. He fell from first place to 11th. Then, on Thursday, Landis rode perhaps the bravest, most impressive race in Tour history, leaving the pack behind early in the race and regaining all but 30 seconds of the time he had lost the day before.

So, tomorrow, Floyd will ride the most important race of his life, a 57-kilometer time trial. Unlike most stages, where riders have teammates to support them, and are able to draft behind other riders, during the time trial, everyone rides alone. The French call it the "race of truth." Landis is one of the best time trialers there is, and is now a favorite to win the Tour. But it will still be a very exciting race. Do watch.

Interesting Timing

Today, just one day after Bush vetoes stem cell research, Arnold Schwarzenegger announces a stem cell program for California. I find the timing interesting -- is Arnold turning away from the Republican right wing? Will the party attempt to punish him in some way?

A Hard Week

I have to admit, the recent court defeats for marriage equality -- four in a single week (Georgia, New York, Tennessee and Nebraska) -- have me feeling rather downhearted. Georgia and Tennessee don't bother me so much (they were decided mostly on procedural grounds), but New York and Nebraska were hard to take, for different reasons.

The New York decision was a blow because I would have hoped that New York judges would have had some actual contact with gay people (outside of watching footage from the pride parade) and realized that allowing same-sex couples to marry will not deter (or encourage) opposite couples from joining in wedded bliss. The court's stated reason for denying marriage equality was that, in essence, "when straight couples have sex, children may result, so we need to encourage them to stay together." If stable relationships are good for opposite-sex couples, and therefore good for the country, they are good for same-sex couples, and therefore good for the country. For couples who bring children into the world, that stable relationship is especially important. For couples who do not or cannot become biological parents, the stability and mutual support marriage can provide is still extremely valuable. Since I can see no logical reason (please, feel free to point one out to me if I've missed it) why civil marriage equality would lessen the value of traditional marriage, either to any single marriage or for the country as whole, I don't see why equality should be witheld. The 14th Amendment seems very clear on the matter of equal treatment under the law.

Nebraska was worse. Not because I expected more of the state where both my parents were born, but because of the severity of the slapdown the court delivered. First, little was being asked. According to the court's own opinion, the gay rights groups that filed the suit did not "assert a right to marriage or same-sex unions. Rather, they seek "a level playing field, an equal opportunity to convince the people's elected representatives that same-sex relationships deserve legal protection."" Not much to ask, is it?

The Nebraska court fell into the same hole as the New York court did -- deciding that since opposite-sex marriage is good because "by affording legal recognition and a basket of rights and benefits to married heterosexual couples, such laws encourage procreation to take place within the socially recognized unit that is best situated for raising children," same-sex marriage is somehow bad because it cannot naturally result in issue. Unfortunately, neither court offered any evidence as to why (or how) allowing same-sex marriage would somehow cause harm to opposite-sex marriages, or deter heterosexuals from marrying. "Whatever our personal views regarding this political and sociological debate, we cannot conclude that the State’s justification lacks a rational relationship to legitimate state interests." They just don't offer any reason why those state interests would be harmed.

Making it worse, the Nebraska consitutional amendment at stake not only prohibits gay marriage, but asserts that "a civil union, domestic partnership, or other similar same-sex relationship shall not be valid or recognized in Nebraska." In effect, Nebraska has said same-sex relationships mean nothing on any legal level. Gay couples do not exist as couples in any legal sense, and cannot obtain any rights available for married couples.

Ouch. Here's hoping for better days ahead.

Michelle Wie and Hitler

Today and tomorrow, Michelle Wie is playing in the John Deere classic, a PGA event. Once more, she's trying to see if she can be competitive with some of the world's best male golfers. (Though none of the top 10 are entered in the event.) After her 77 today, though, she has almost zero chance of achieving this goal. But if you watch her tomorrow, and she happens to make a good shot, watch her wave. It's a little flip of the hand, combined with a raised arm. For some reason, her wave has always bugged me, but I didn't know why -- until last night, when I watched "Downfall."

"Downfall" is the story of Hitler's last days, taking place primarily inside his Berlin bunker. Sure enough, Wie's wave is an almost perfect duplicate of the gesture der Fuhrer made in response to the straight arm "sieg heils" given him by underlings. Note to Michelle: Hitler is generally not the best person to emulate, even unconsciously.

By the way, "Downfall" itself is fascinating. Quite graphic (more suicides than Guantanmo Bay), but apparently quite accurate. In one way, it seemed like an episode of an anti-"West Wing." Here you are, in the corridors of power, seeing the head of state plus his minions attempting to lead the nation. Except instead of Jeb Bartlett inspiring all around him, you have the greatest criminal of all time degenerating into deeper madness and delusion.

Synchronicities

A synchronicity -- for any unfamiliar with the term, save as the title of last recording by The Police -- is a "simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernable causal connection." Here's the best one that ever happened to me:

It was a Friday afternoon. I was riding in a client's SUV, coming back to San Francisco from a meeting we'd been to in the south bay. After we'd de-briefed after the meeting, I asked him what his plans were for the weekend. He was heading up to Royal Gorge Resort to do some cross-country skiing. His mention of Royal Gorge made me think of a story I'd seen on the evening news a few nights before. It was a puff piece on the resort, which is the largest cross-country ski resort in America. As part of the story, they interviewed David Ireland, who is a successful local artist and responsible for creating one of the premiere art centers in San Francisco, the Capp Street Project. However, Ireland wasn't identified as "David Ireland, Artist," but "David Ireland, Skier," just one of several guests the reporter interviewed.

I mentioned this to my client, because I knew he had a more than passing interest in contemporary art (he's apparently a boyhood friend of art superstar Matthew Barney). I remember thinking to myself, "I wonder what David Ireland has been up to -- I haven't read his name or thought about him in years."

After we arrived at my client's office, where I had parked my car, I said good-bye and headed across the bridge to Berkeley, where I was meeting friends for dinner in order to celebrate the birthday of one of them. Because of this, I needed to obtain a gift. The Gardener is one of the best retail stores I know, and a fantastic place to pick up a gift for almost anyone. A bit pricey, perhaps, but there's great stuff and they do a nifty wrap job.

So it was in to the Gardener. I walked slowly to the back of the store, not seeing anything that was right yet, then turned 180 degrees to peruse the wares on tables in the center of the store and found myself face to face with...David Ireland.

I was floored. I would have been only surprised if perhaps the store was stocking a book about him, but to see him on the news, mention that to someone, and then 20 minutes later be four feet from him was a tad overwhelming.

If anyone reading this has a synchronicity story they'd like to share, I'd love to hear about it. A similar story was part of an earlier post, which you can find here.

A Dream Come True

I simply can't wait to get back to New York, now that I've heard about the latest East Village eatery, S'MAC. Like Rice Dreams before it, S'MAC is a temple to one food group. For Rice Dreams, it's rice pudding. At S'MAC, the menu is all mac and cheese, all the time. I knew I was going to the gym for a reason.

Boston Marriage

Two recent bits of news from Massachusetts that I find interesting.

The first is that employees of the Boston Globe are being told that the company is phasing out domestic partner benefits, now that gay couples are allowed to marry in the state. I see absolutely no problem with this; I always sort of despised domestic partner benefits because they provided many of the rights of marriage without the corresponding responsibilities. It was "marriage lite," and it never seemed equitable to me. Equality is equality, and we should settle for nothing less.

The second story from the Bay State is that the Supreme Court there ruled that a constitutional amendment to ban any future same-sex marriages in the only state that currently allows them (Vermont and Connecticut have civil unions) can be placed on the ballot if it receives the required number of votes in the state legislature, which is almost a surety. The matter will then go before voters in November 2008. Some LGBT activists petitioned the court to prevent this, but as long as the supporters of the initiative follow the correct constitutional process, I see no reason why their efforts -- hateful as they might be -- should be thwarted. If Massachusetts allows voters to decide on such issues, then we must make our case to them.

But I have to say, it worries me sick. The massive success of constitutional bans in other states, where they passed with huge majorities (in one instance approaching 90%), leads me to believe the issue is so deeply "other" to so many people that it will indeed pass. So maybe it won't lose 2-1, as was the average loss for such measures during the 2004 election. Maybe it will only lose 50.1% to 49.9%. It will still be a loss. I hope the voters of Massachusetts will be wise and fair-minded enough to realize that to deny equality (or even aspects of equality -- the proposed amendment would deny even arrangements like civil unions or domestic partnerships) on the basis of something that is biologically determined is not the sort of thing one wants to enshrine in the state's constitution. But I'm not sure even they have it in them.

A Turning Point for Women's Golf?

Women's golf has always lagged behind men's golf -- in prize money, media attention, and quality of play. Unlike women's tennis, where there is almost complete parity in terms of prize money and popularity, women golfers have played second fiddle to Arnie and Jack and Tiger.

That may be changing. Earlier this year, 16-year old phenom Michelle Wie turned pro, signed with Nike and Sony, and immediately vaulted into second place in the world rankings. Wie threatens to change the face of women's golf: she hits the ball farther than any other woman golfer (and makes more money in endorsements than any woman golfer) and has brought a huge amount of attention to the woman's game.

However, no one player on her own -- no matter how talented -- can truly transform the game. What will lift the LPGA into a new level of popularity will be the development of a rivalry similar to that which developed between Martina Navritilova and Chris Evert in the 1970s. Those two women met in many finals, and though they had different styles of play, one never truly dominated the other and the drama of their contests helped women's tennis achieve a place equal to the men's game.

Women's golf has a true number one: Annika Sorenstam. Although she is having a less than stellar year (even though she just won the top tournament in women's golf, the U.S. Women's Open, everyone -- Michelle Wie included -- guns for Annika. But what's making the women's game so interesting right now is that it's not just Annika and Michelle who are contending for championships. Paula Creamer, a 20-year old who always wears something pink, is both pretty and pretty damn good. She has a champion's fire and is working to show the world that she belongs at the top. Then there's Lorena Ochoa, a Mexican player who is the leading money winner on the tour this year. Add Natalie Gulbis and Brittany Lincicome, two more talented teenagers, plus wily veterans like Pat Hurst, Juli Inkster and Karrie Webb, and you've got some amazing competition.

This weekend all the top players came together for the HSBC Women's World Match Play Championship. For those of you unfamiliar with golf, most tournaments are stroke play: everyone plays the same course at basically the same time and whoever shoots the lowest total score wins. Match play, on the other hand, is one golfer against another. You play hole by hole. Whoever wins the most holes wins. The tournament progresses like a tennis tournament, with the losers being eliminated the winners going on to play the next challenger.

Tomorrow are the semi-finals and finals, with Lorena Ochoa going up against Brittany Lincicome and Paula Creamer taking on Juli Inkster (who beat Annika today with a birdie on the 18th hole). Although Annika and Michelle have been eliminated (Michelle lost to Brittany in the quarters), this is still quite a line-up, and the golf tomorrow promises to be quite exciting. I predict Paula Creamer will beat Juli, and then best Lorena Ochoa in an upset in the final. I know the network (like me) was hoping for an Annika/Michelle final. And if it had come to pass, it would have vaulted the women's game into the stratosphere. Still, the fact that there are four great players contending for this title -- and so much attention on it -- represents a turning point for women's golf.

The thing I hate most about golf...

...is that I love it so much. It's a bit like an abusive relationship -- it treats you poorly, then is abjectly sorry and does something wonderful to make up for the bad behavior.

During my most recent round, after a very poor opening nine, I started to hit the ball a bit better. On the 14th I hit easily my best drive of the day, right down the middle, looked to be 260-270. But when I got to where the ball should be, I saw that the wind had taken it just a bit left and the ball had caught the lip of a bunker, forcing me to wedge out. Then I hit my best 3-wood of the day, but it was just a bit too far right and dropped in the pond fronting the green, missing land by about a yard. Dropped, hit a wedge that just went through, then chipped to two feet for a bogey 6, when I could easily have been putting for eagle.

Then, on the very next hole, I hit another great drive down the center, hit a 9-iron to the upper tier of the green, then snaked in a 45-footer for birdie. Next hole was a par three, I was on in regulation, then three-putted, something I rarely do (but did four times during this round!). The next hole was a par four and I hit a 3-wood to position A, then shanked my 8-iron and made another bogey. On the 18th, I hit the ball so far off the tee I carried it into the pond, which I have never done on this hole. But I hit a 9-iron to 12 feet and nearly sank the putt to save par.

I'm a hopeless addict.

The Challenge of Faith

In the second episode of Bill Moyers's "Faith & Reason," the guest is Mary Gordon. Gordon, a prolific novelist, essayist, short story writer and memoirist (as well a practicing Catholic) was speaking about the challenge of faith: "I think there are many more good reasons for not believing than for believing. If you look at the evil and suffering in the world, it's very hard to believe there is a personal god looking out for us, watching the sparrow, counting the hairs on the head. If you look at the behavior of institutional religions, it's very scandalizing. Not just my own church, which is the Catholic church, but the history of religion proves that religious people are no better than people who are not religious. It seems to not make a lot of difference in terms of virtue. And often, if a religion is connected with power, it enables them to act worse than people who have less power. So I think it's a very strange thing, a very mysterious thing, to believe."

Yet, she believes -- though precisely why, she cannot say. Or does not choose to say. But the conversation was nonetheless fascinating.

A Dark Day for Equality

Today is a very sad day for gay and lesbian Americans, as we were handed one of the worst defeats in recent memory when the New York State Supreme Court ruled that restricting civil marriage to opposite-sex couples only is acceptable under the state’s constitution.

Reading the decision, it seems the New York court has failed to apply simple logic or common-sense, relying instead on the crutch of tradition: this is how it has been and is therefore how it ought to be.

The court looked at “two grounds that rationally support the limitation on marriage that the Legislature has enacted.”

The first is that “for the welfare of children, it is more important to promote stability, and to avoid instability, in opposite-sex than in same-sex relationships.” Granting that stability is important for the health and welfare of children, the court failed to even nominally address why extending civil marriage rights to same-sex couples would in any way threaten the stability of those in opposite-sex relationships.

The second ground referenced is that “other things being equal, it is better for children to grow up with both a mother and a father.” There is dispute on this point, with some social science showing that children raised by two men or two women do equally as well. But even if one grants that two parents of opposite genders is optimal for child welfare, denying same-sex civil marriage rights does nothing to hinder the formation of stable, opposite-sex relationships. Nor can the restriction of marriage equality prevent the formation of families where the parents are of the same sex. Gay couples who want children will continue to create them through sperm donation and adoption. Denying civil equality does nothing to further what the state sees as a laudable goal. Why the court failed to see this is beyond me, and I can only place the blame on the very real fear of the unknown and the different as the cause of their short-sightedness.

Almost as damaging as the justices’ inability to see that this is not a zero-sum game, that extending rights to one group does not remove them from another, is the language they use to explain their rationale. Consider this:

“A person's preference for the sort of sexual activity that cannot lead to the birth of children is relevant to the State's interest in fostering relationships that will serve children best.”

The challenge for me here is the use of the word “preference.” Gay and lesbian people do not “prefer” sex with people of the same gender, it is the way we are oriented. “Preference” implies a choice. In matters of sex, the heart wants what it wants. By using “preference,” the court subtly implies that gay people are complicit in the discriminatory treatment they receive.

Worse than that, however, is how the court summarily dismisses gay and lesbian people as a discriminated class:

“neither men nor women are disproportionately disadvantaged or burdened by the fact that New York's Domestic Relations Law allows only opposite-sex couples to marry -- both genders are treated precisely the same way. As such, there is no gender classification triggering intermediate scrutiny.”

What they are saying is that since any man can marry any woman and vice versa, equality is guaranteed. Gay people, as a class therefore, are completely ignored. We “prefer” sex with members of the same gender, and all we have to do is change our minds in order to take advantage of the benefits civil marriage brings. This, to me, is the most damaging element of the decision – our non-existence as a class entitled to any legal protection beyond that accorded to us as men or women.

In its decision, the court suggests that this is a matter to be taken up by the state legislature, and to that end, LGBT organizations have already called upon New York to do just that. That will be a long, hard road. So we best get started.

My Bunny Valentine

My favorite new blog (for the next five minutes, anyway): potentially nervous.blogspot.com. Nothing intellectually demanding here. As the blog's motto says: "the world's going to hell -- here are some bunny photos."

Vincent Ferrari Fights Back

If you haven't heard of Vincent Ferrari, click here. This link is part of Vincent's blog, a post in which he discusses the reaction to his recording of a conversation with an AOL customer service rep who was very reluctant to fill Mr. Ferrari's request of cancelling his account. There's a transcript of the call, as well as a "Today" show segment on which Mr. Ferrari appeared.

But the main thrust of this post is Mr. Ferrari countering a specific critic of his, a Rob Zarzueta. Although Mr. Ferrari comes off as gentle and patient during his TV appearance, just a simple guy whose story got picked up by the media, his comments at the end of the post make him seem like a bit more of an attention whore than he'd have us believe:

"I guess it’s cool though, because I’ve never heard of Rob before. I imagine a lot of people haven’t. I’ve been blogging for 4 years myself, and reading them significantly longer than that, and Rob’s name never came up. Not once. So congratulations Rob Zarzueta, whoever the hell you are. You got my attention by trying to piggy back on my 15 minutes of fame. I’m sure you’ll get more people linking to you from here than you’ve had read that drivel you write in the past ((insert number of minutes you’ve been blogging here)). I’ll guarantee you one thing, though, L33t boy. One day, people are going to remember this story and what it meant for AOL and customers everywhere.

Do you really think anyone’s gonna remember you (or for that matter the other idiots) for shitting on me?"

It wasn't even 15 minutes, Vince. More like eight. And it wasn't fame so much as it was reflected attention. Nonetheless...wow.

"The Devil Wears Prada"

It's worth seeing if only for Meryl Streep's performance. Once again, she steps into the skin of a character and embodies her fully. I'm surprised she only has ten Oscar nominations and two statuettes. The movie gets a little heavy-handed at times, but it's quite a lot of bitchy fun.

Abstinence Makes the Heart...

...grow wild with desire. Which is why abstinence only programs designed to prevent the spread of sexually-transmitted diseases aren't as effective as programs that also encourage condom use if the temptation proves too great. Uganda had a very successful program called "ABC": Abstain, Be faithful -- but use Condoms if you can't (or won't) follow the first two. The country's HIV transmission rate fell from 15% to 5% after the program was implemented.

Problem is, studies show it was C and not A or B that were most responsible for nearly all of the reduction. Bigger problem is that the US has been putting pressure on Uganda to stress the abstinence aspect of the message -- which they are doing, because much of the funding comes from us. Evangelical organizations in the country are even trying to change the C to stand for "condoms are for the condemned" or "change companions," meaning if you find yourself with someone who wants you to break your abstinence or fidelity pledge, that you should simply leave their presence. Churches seem to have a hard time understanding the realities of sexual behavior.

Perhaps if the message were reframed. Let them say, "The most important rules to follow are abstinence until marriage, and fidelity after." This lets them give top priority to their high moral ground -- it's not merely one piece of advice among equals. But let them also say, "But if you don't follow the most important rule, you had better follow the SECOND most important rule -- use a condom."

New Togs at the All-England Club

If you're watching Wimbledon, take a moment to note the new unis the club has provided for ball boys and girls, line judges and umpires, courtesy of Ralph Lauren. (Well, if you can call six million pounds "courtesy.") The umpires got the best look -- veddy veddy British.

Here's a fun read...

A blog, ostensibly written by the mother of Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi, as if she were running with the Hollywood crowd.

More Evidence of Biological Basis of Sexuality

After the twin studies, evidence of differences in brain structure, as well as pointers to a genetic component to sexual orientation comes this study which presents evidence that sexual orientation is determined in part by conditions in utero. Taken in conjunction with earlier twin studies (that showed that when twins are fraternal (each with their own placenta), they have a slightly higher probability of being gay than siblings born individually, that identical twins (each with their own placenta) are much more likely to share the same sexuality, but that twins that share a placenta almost invariably share the same sexuality), the scientific evidence seems quite clear that sexuality is firmly established at birth. Here is an interesting synthesis of the major research that has been done on the biological origins of sexuality.

Salman Rushdie on the First Amendment

Bill Moyers has a new series on PBS, "Faith & Reason," a topic I think is of vital importance in our current sociopolitical environment. The first show features Salman Rushdie, he of the 10-year fatwa and life in seclusion.

"In a free society, offense is not the limiting point. Because if we say that we can suppress things that upset people, then all of us are silenced...When there is a conflict between liberty of speech and the beliefs of private individuals, the liberty of speech must always take precedence, because otherwise, every other liberty -- including freedom of religious observance -- is put into question. It's no accident, I think, that freedom of religious observance and freedom of speech are jointly protected by the first amendment...In my point of view, you can't have one without the other."

Hurrah for Bill and Buffett

We already knew about Bill Gates's largesse in establishing the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Today it was announced by Warren Buffett, the Omaha billionaire, that he would be donating a large part of his fortune to the foundation. No 300-foot yachts for Buffett, or a line-up of rich relatives (a la the Wal-Mart clan). Instead, he's teaming up with Gates to help rid the world of malaria, river blindness and other preventable diseases. I've ragged on Bill Gates in years past (by helping Sun's Scott McNealy to mock him), but he and Buffett deserve an enormous amount of respect for attempting to turn their fortunes to the most productive work they can find. After all, don't those researching vaccines for viruses that could devastate populations deserve the money more than jewelers and Mercedes-Benz dealers?

O'Reilly Caught Lying Again

Check this out. Bill O'Reilly lies, is corrected, lies again, is caught -- but fails to take responsibility for his mendacity. Keith Olberman of MSNBC can come across as a little strident; but just watching the O'Reilly segments are almost damning enough. Once you know that O'Reilly is knowingly accusing dead American soldiers of committing a heinous war crime -- when in fact they were the victims of it -- his bald-faced dissembling becomes chilling.

Choose Your Weapon: Torture or Kindness, or, Grounds for Impeachment

Although I live an almost entirely-blessed existence, I regularly find myself despairing of life when I am reminded just how much horror and evil remains in the world. This despair comes primarily because my country has come to stand more for torture and hegemony than for freedom and opportunity.

Though I did not vote for him, I bear my tiny part of responsibility for George W. Bush's election in that I am a citizen of a nation that would place him in office. He is my President, too, though I despise how he has conducted himself. Although my responsibility for his occupancy of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue is miniscule to the point nearly of invisibility, the horrific nature of the crime he has committed in this country's name -- leading a government which sanctioned and encouraged the torture and murder of fellow human beings -- is so repugnant that even that tiny whiff of guilt that wafts down to me as an individual citizen makes me feel profound shame.

At one time, as a child, I felt proud that America stood taller than the barbarous regimes of history. I know that Abu Gharaib, Hidatha and Guantanamo are not the first instances of American military cruelty, but they represent a Rubicon of sorts, in that Rumsfeld and Cheney and (likely) Bush knew and approved of it, rationalized it somehow (God knows how), so that those beneath them in the chain of command felt emboldened (and empowered) to add torture to their arsenal. That's not what America is, not to me.

This came to me as I read a piece on Howard Stringer in the June 5, 2006 issue of "The New Yorker." Stringer is currently the CEO of Sony Corporation, a Welshman who immigrated to New York at 22, intending to make this his home. Three months after his arrival, he was drafted to serve in Vietnam. Rather than return to England and avoid service, as he could easily have done, he reported for duty. The article quotes one of his letters, and it is those words that reawakened my depression: "The VC prisoners we take are stained with the mud of rice paddies...They are truly out of touch, and their reaction to medical treatment and kindness is often staggering."

"Medical treatment and kindness." Isn't that what we extend to our prisoners of war? Rather than covering them with feces, or making them feel as if they are drowning, or cramming them into a box for days at a time? For lack of a more straightforward way of saying it, aren't we better than that?

Apparently not, and now that we have proved that to the world, we have lost -- perhaps forever -- the "moral high ground." How can we now ever say that democracy, liberty and the rule of law are the best paths to social order and the common good, when we have now shown that it is capable of an evil such as the ones some of our soldiers carry out with the blessings of the Secretary of Defense and, by extension, our President.

If this betrayal of our values, in our name, is not a high crime or misdemeanor, I'm not sure I know what is.

"That's gonna be a souvenir."

As anyone who knows me well (or who has carefully read this blog) will know that I have a tiny tendency toward paranoia. Not in the sense that someone is out to get me, but in the sense that dangerous or interesting or random things will happen to or near me. That plane flying so low -- is it about to make an emergency landing and I get to see it? That guy in the movie theater who is acting crazy -- does he have a gun under his coat? Do I need to be ready to duck under my seat? As these thoughts pass through my head (they don't stay long, as I'm not certifiably insane), I wonder if I would be helped in some way should the worst happen. Since I am attuned to the crazy man's behavior, will I be one who survives his rampage because I was aware and reacted to the metallic clicks of him chambering his first round and quickly take cover?

Of course, none of these musings has ever been more than fantasy. Sometimes the delusions are of a more minor (and pleasant) nature: maybe my purchase of k.d. lang's version of "Crying" will be the billionth iTunes download and win me the big prize, or I'll show up as a single at a golf course and be paired with Alice Cooper or Samuel L. Jackson.

This mild paranoia is one reason why I try to take a baseball glove on the rare (very) occasions when I attend a major league game: I always hold out hope that a ball will come my way and I want to be ready. As Pasteur said, "chance favors the prepared mind." So as I sat last night at the Giants-Angels game at AT&T Park (I took my mom to her first game ever at the park), and I watched the foul balls flying into the stands, I tried to keep the glove on my hand and be ready.

We had great seats -- seven rows from the field, just behind the on-deck circle on the first base side. I knew any foul hit to us would either be a screaming liner, or a very high pop-up. The liner didn't worry me too much -- if I caught it, I'd be a hero, if I didn't, the crowd would forgive my not being able to handle such a hard shot, being only 60 feet or so from the plate.

No, it was the pop-up that worried me. I had this fantasy of a very high ball arcing straight to my seat (Field Club Section 110, Row G, Seat 2), giving the cameras plenty of time to find me waiting with my glove extended. Which would mean plenty of time for me to realize that I would be on TV, preparing to catch what would be in baseball parlance a "can of corn" and let nerves interfere with my ability to catch. Miss it and I'd let the whole section down and maybe end up being a humorous replay on that evening's edition of "SportsCenter." As I considered this, I thought "well, maybe now that I've had that thought, I'll be able to put it out of my mind should that actually come to pass. Maybe I've expended the nervousness now, and I'll know that since being nervous won't help me make the catch, I'll just have to make the catch."

Through the first seven innings, nothing came close. Plenty of action directly behind home plate, including one into the press box, and several balls down both the right and left field lines. Then, in the top of the eighth, just as I put the glove back on after eating some peanuts, Angels catcher Mike Napoli, with one out and a one and two count on him, popped up a ball, high and right into my section.

At first I thought "it's too far back, it's out of my reach." But then I decided that strange ricochets happen all the time, so I got my glove ready and turned toward the action. The ball came down about six rows above me, went through one fan's hands and caromed off something -- right towards me. I leaned a bit to my right, guided the ball into the glove with my right hand and closed the webbing around it -- I had it! I had the ball. I turned immediately to my mom and nonchalantly presented it to her. (I neglected to say earlier that the other part of my foul-catching fantasy was that should I make a catch I would not mug for the camera or raise my arms in the air as though I'd just pitched a three-hit shutout in game seven.)

It's not a huge deal, catching a foul ball. All I had done was to be in the right spot at the right time for a mostly random occurence. Still, I felt proud that when I got my chance, I didn't boot it, and acquitted myself with a modicum of grace. (Although I must say it was gratifying to receive the ovation and congratulations from the other fans in the section.)

When I got home last night, I immediately went to the TV and watched the play several times (including twice in slo-mo), thanks to the wonders of the DVR. When the ball left the bat, the Giants announcer said "That's gonna be a souvenir." And it was. Mom's souvenir.

If I can get the catch in a digital format, I'll post it here or on YouTube.com.

TOM

My Favorite New Song

Heard this on the radio the other day and it just grabbed me by the ears and would not let go. Definitely not recrementitious.

Muse, "Knights of Cydonia." Big, dramatic, energetic, romantic (in the 19th century sense of the word) -- and rather political and revolutionary. Do listen.

Oh, and crank it up.

Kissinger on Soccer

Being American, I know very little about the real strategy of soccer, or the game's complexity, and very little of its history. So I enjoyed this article by former secretary of state, Nobel Peace Prize winner and major soccer fan Henry Kissinger, in which he talks not only about his love for the game, but also gives a concise description of the modern game and its genesis in the 70s.

You can also go to newsweek.com and hear an audio report from Kissinger on the first week of the tournament. Ever the diplomat, he deftly avoided directly criticizing the American team after their humiliation at the hands (feet?) of the team from the Czech Republic.

Netwood

If you'v ever watched HBO's "Deadwood," you know it's the story of a mining camp in indian territory in the 1870s. Gold has been discovered, so no one really cares that the land is by treaty supposed to belong the the native Americans of the area. The tiny camp of Deadwood becomes a town where absolutely no law applies -- until it simply becomes too rich and the government steps in and annexes the camp as part of South Dakota. But not before there's a fair amount of violence and chaos.

Well, now that the Internet has become a gold camp of its own, being significantly responsible for some of the largest gains in productivity in history, as well as transforming the way people live, work and play, the government is once again stepping in. This time it's not necessarily to bring order, but to concentrate control of the Net into the hands of a few very powerful players.

Here's an article that is part of this interesting story -- that I have only just begun to become aware of. Congress (in between their attacks on gay and lesbian people) have managed to find the time to debate the possibiity of giving the major telecommunications companies control over the Internet, changing it from the loose, free, packed with liberty and opportunity environment that it is today, into a more centrally-controlled, less free, shadow of itself. In the 19th century South Dakota, an argument could be made that Deadwood needed some control and oversight to bring order to the town and make it safe for all who wanted to seek their fortune. Today's net grab is not about safety or the public good, but the concentration of power.

Interested in learning more? Enter "net neutrality" on Google News.

More on Polygamy

With the general lack of any logical reasons why same-sex civil marriage can't be permitted, the social conservatives often fall back on the slippery slope argument: "If we allow the moral depravity of gay marriage to be sanctioned, what's to stop other moral depravities such as polygamy or bestiality to be sanctioned by the state?" With HBO's "Big Love" dramatizing the challenges of living a polygamist life in modern-day Utah, the polygamy argument often steps to the fore, as witnessed by Bill Bennett's appearance on "The Daily Show" earlier this week. (See previous post.) In addition to the points I made in that post about polygamy creating a generally inequitable arrangement relative to civil marriage, the following also occurred to me.

Marriage in this country has two aspects -- civil and religious. The civil aspect is all the contract law stuff -- shared debts, inheritance, hospital visitation, child custody, etc. But it seems to me that most polygamists, certainly most in the USA, enter into plural marriages not for civil reasons, but for religious ones. They feel they are living a higher principle, one ordained by God. Since they have established their own religious institutions which permit/encourage plural marriage, there is no need for those who choose to practice polygamy to seek recognition for those unions; if they believe God sanctions these relationships, and they have their own churches in which to bless the unions, they already have all the recognition they need or desire.

What's more, since polygamy (or rather polygyny, since there are no multiple-husband marriages among the Utah/Arizona fundamental LDS crowd) is entirely heterosexual, polygamists can enter into civil unions in order to guarantee the benefits those unions offer, as least for the husband and his first wife. Therefore, there is no motivation for polygamists to seek legal recognition of their unions -- and any attempt to do so would run afoul of the 14th Amendment, as it creates a system of inequity, which same-sex marriage would not.

Jon Stewart (mostly) Skewers Bill Bennett

Last night on "The Daily Show," Jon Stewart's guest was former Secretary of Education Bill Bennett. The discussion was primarily about gay marriage, and Jon took it right to the big boy, politely presenting him with logical, common-sense responses to Bennett's parroting of conservative talking points. One of my favorite exchanges was when Stewart said something like: "So why not encourage gay people to join in that family arrangement if that provides stability to a society?" Bennett replied that gay people are already part of families, that they are sons and daughters. To which Stewart rejoinded: "So that's the gay ceiling? That's as far as they can go?"

However, when the argument got to the slippery slope of "if we let gay people marry, what's to stop polygamy?" Stewart's answer was that polygamy isn't a part of the human condition, people aren't born to be polygamists. But that's not the right answer. The right answer is that since we are talking about equal civil rights, same-sex marriage ADDS rights for all. Today, any man can marry any woman and vice versa. It was not always thus, as the Lovings (the interracial couple of the 1967 Supreme Court decision) would tell you. By expanding marriage rights, any man could marry any woman OR any man and vice versa. Rights are expanded yet remain equal.

Polygamy on the other hand sets up an inherently unequal arrangement. Those who choose to enter into polygamous arrangements now have extra rights that those in one:one relationships do not have; namely, multiple spouses who can collect on Social Security survivor benefits and other financial benefits of marriage. This is inconsistent with the equality of treatment guaranteed under the 14th Amendment.

Click on the link above and watch Stewart do what he does very well. (You have to scroll down the page a bit to find the link.)

Saying Yes

From Stephen Colbert's commencement address at Knox College in Illinois:

"[Y]ou have one thing that may save you, and that is your youth. This is your great strength. It is also why I hate and fear you. Hear me out. It has been said that children are our future. But does that not also mean that we are their past? You are here to replace us. I don’t understand why we’re here helping and honoring them. You do not see union workers holding benefits for robots.

But you seem nice enough, so I’ll try to give you some advice. First of all, when you go to apply for your first job, don’t wear these robes. Medieval garb does not instill confidence in future employers—unless you’re applying to be a scrivener. And if someone does offer you a job, say yes. You can always quit later. Then at least you’ll be one of the unemployed as opposed to one of the never-employed. Nothing looks worse on a resume than nothing.

So, say “yes.” In fact, say “yes” as often as you can. When I was starting out in Chicago, doing improvisational theatre with Second City and other places, there was really only one rule I was taught about improv. That was, “yes-and.” In this case, “yes-and” is a verb. To “yes-and.” I yes-and, you yes-and, he, she or it yes-ands. And yes-anding means that when you go onstage to improvise a scene with no script, you have no idea what’s going to happen, maybe with someone you’ve never met before. To build a scene, you have to accept. To build anything onstage, you have to accept what the other improviser initiates on stage. They say you’re doctors—you’re doctors. And then, you add to that: We’re doctors and we’re trapped in an ice cave. That’s the “-and.” And then hopefully they “yes-and” you back. You have to keep your eyes open when you do this. You have to be aware of what the other performer is offering you, so that you can agree and add to it. And through these agreements, you can improvise a scene or a one-act play. And because, by following each other’s lead, neither of you are really in control. It’s more of a mutual discovery than a solo adventure. What happens in a scene is often as much a surprise to you as it is to the audience.

Well, you are about to start the greatest improvisation of all. With no script. No idea what’s going to happen, often with people and places you have never seen before. And you are not in control. So say “yes.” And if you’re lucky, you’ll find people who will say “yes” back.

Now will saying “yes” get you in trouble at times? Will saying “yes” lead you to doing some foolish things? Yes it will. But don’t be afraid to be a fool. Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don’t learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say no. But saying “yes” begins things. Saying “yes” is how things grow. Saying “yes” leads to knowledge. “Yes” is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say “yes.”"

Staggered by the Pandering

I am absolutely horrified at the level to which President Bush and the Republican congress will take their desperate pandering for votes. Over the weekend Bush came out in favor of a constitutional amendment defining marriage as only between a man and a woman, and for three days this week, the Senate will debate the issue, which has virtually zero chance of passing. Instead of investing their valuable time and energy on dealing with immigration issues, or the war in Iraq, or the ballooning federal debt, they will be calling each other's moral convictions into question -- even though sexuality is probably the least of most senators' moral failings.

With all the words flying back and forth, however, I have yet to hear anyone precisely define the exact threat same-sex marriage poses to "traditional" marriage. Even ignoring that marriage is a matter left to the state, how could the possibility of Bob and I (or next door neighbors Gaby and Marianna) having a marriage license have any affect at all on the marriages of Joel and Alice or Richard and Jean across the street? Or on George and Laura's marriage?

Look out, Bellagio

Hard to think anyone could compare with the wonder and majesty of the waters at Bellagio, that marvel of hydro-engineering in Las Vegas. And yet, along come these mad scientists. Check it out. Just Diet Coke and Mentos.

My Favorite New Word

Recrementitious. An adjective meaning "of, relating to, consisting of, or of the nature of superfluous matter separated from that which is useful."

Can you use it in a sentence?

"I mean really, don't Depeche Mode seem completely recrementitious at this point?"

Culled from the live network finals of the National Spelling Bee, which is a completely wild thing on its own. The response to pressure of these 14-year olds is heartening. With the country watching on live network television, they just step up to the mike and do the job at hand: spell the most obscure and non-intuitively spelled words. Their voices shake a bit sometimes, but mostly they seem up to the task, even if they miss the word.

The Best Town for Movies

It isn't LA. It isn't New York. From my point of view, it's Palm Springs. Why? The theaters. Perhaps it's because the mercury regularly hits 110+ during the summer and people spend a lot of time at the movies, but the theaters in Palm Springs are some of the most comfortable, best-equipped anywhere, and you can see an enormous range of films, from the latest blockbusters to independent -- even arty -- films.

The Regal in Palm Springs, on Tahquitz Canyon Way, has nine auditoria, all stadium seating, but the ones you want are numbers eight and nine, tucked in the back of the facility. These feature wide leather seats, with two armrests for each seat, plus a center row of tables for your popcorn and snacks. It's like a screening room. The Regal plays mainly mainstream films.

Then there's the Camelot, also in Palm Springs (on Baristo) which has a small restaurant tucked into it, where you can get decent sandwiches and soup and salad and carrot cake, etc. Upstairs is the lounge, where you can get a cocktail or glass of wine. And everything -- even the drinks -- are allowed in the theaters. The Camelot is run by a wealthy retired man who wants to create a great space for movies, and he programs mostly independent and art films. Now playing -- The Proposition, Boynton Beach Club, Beauty Academy of Kabul, Three Times -- plus they host several film festivals throughout the year.

Finally, there is the Palme d'Or, in Palm Desert. The facility is nothing special, but they have a great programmer, who brings in tons of independent films. Now playing -- Water, Akeelah and the Bee, La Petite Jerusalem, Duck Season, Friends With Money, Kinky Boots, Thank You for Smoking, The Sentinel, Art School Confidential, Keeping Up With the Steins, Wah-Wah.

I'm in a black mood...

...but that's OK, because black is slimming, right?

Which commandment is it...

...that forbids lying? Because Pat Robertson is telling a whopper in order to sell protein shakes.

The claim is made on this site that Pat Robertson can lift 2000 pounds in a leg press. However, some people have done some fact-checking on this outrageous claim. If this statement were true, it would mean Robertson had broken the Florida leg press record to the tune of 665 pounds. What's more, the machine used to set the record of 1335 pounds had to be modified because it wasn't set up to hold even that much weight, let alone 2000 pounds. And the guy who set the record, Dan Kendra, burst all the capillaries in his eyes in the attempt.

A call to CBN brought back a response that Robertson did indeed lift all that weight, he just needed a little help to get it started. Baloney. If he'll lie to sell shakes, what wouldn't he lie about?

NYC Theater Report - Spring 2006

I’m hard pressed to think of an enterprise more fraught with peril than commercial art. Oh sure, there’s salvage diving and halibut fishing and CIA “wet work,” but those are perilous primarily for the workers; the investors generally do fine, thanks for asking. In commercial art, especially the peculiar sub-specialty we call Broadway theatre, the inverse is true. The workers – the actors and musicians and set designers and house managers and lighting techs – toil in relative safety and enjoy a weekly check that will almost always clear, even if you wait until Monday to deposit it. The angels of Broadway, the investors, on the other hand, part with their checks with absolutely no expectation of any return. Why should they? Broadway productions cost millions to mount, millions to promote and the vast majority never return a dime of profit.

Part of the reason for this ongoing avalanche of failure is that Broadway shows, like any form of commercial art, are still art. And good art, art that – even through all the layers of artifice – touches you in a human way, that manages somehow to reach into your soul (or your spirit or your mind or whatever name you give the intangible, ineffable part of yourself) to scratch your particular itch – and at the same time manages to scratch someone else’s completely different itch – is maddeningly difficult to create.

To achieve its goal – even if the goal is only to provide pleasant diversion – a theatrical production must cast a sort of spell over the audience, drawing us in to a new world. Although this is not the most of original of thoughts, I find the theater I like best is that which transports me. Not only in the sense of taking me to another world, but in occasionally bringing me into a different consciousness, so that I feel almost as if I am sitting with the characters. That I am part of their experience.

For this to happen, though, almost everything about a production has to be done well. It’s like Donald Rumsfeld says about terrorists attempting to breach our borders: we have to be right every minute of every day, they only have to be right once. Anyone putting a show up on Broadway faces a similar sort of daunting challenge. There are so many ways a production can go wrong. Not even necessarily wrong, just…not right. Or at least, not right enough. A production can begin with a terrific script, like “Defiance,” and then falter because of a directorial misfire or two. Or it can feature a brilliant actress like Lili Taylor in “Landscape of the Body” (by the even more brilliant John Guare), and still have me glancing at my watch. Or the whole thing can be cocked up completely, as the people behind “Clocks and Whistles” managed to do. Occasionally, however, everything comes together almost perfectly and you get a splendid evening of theater that entrances you.

I had high expectations for our most recent trip to New York. Given the word of mouth and positive reviews of many of the shows we planned to see, I thought perhaps four or even five had the chance of transporting me the way “Doubt” or “I Am My Own Wife” or “Urinetown” did. In the end however, only two productions – “The Drowsy Chaperone” and “The History Boys” – broke through the barriers of artifice and encompassed me completely within their worlds. If at all possible, you must see both of them.

“The History Boys”
Alan Bennett’s most recent work was a critical and box-office smash in London. Thanks to an apparently rare détente between British Equity and Actor’s Equity (the British and American stage actor’s unions), the original National Theatre production has been imported to Broadway intact. This means American theatergoers can see one of the most amazing ensemble casts ever, performing a play that both entertains and enlightens. Though it can be intellectually demanding, with dozens of literary and cultural references ranging from Auden to Hardy to Shakespeare, and one scene conducted entirely in French (which also happens to be perhaps the funniest scene in the play), it’s amazing accessible.

The story takes place at a private boy’s school somewhere in England. Hector is the sort of teacher I wish I could have had in my youth: passionate, demanding, a force to be reckoned with…but with a touch of rebellion with which a teenage boy can identify. Hector’s students are seniors, preparing their applications for Oxford and Cambridge. To help them achieve this goal, the school hires Irwin, a young teacher whose job is to coach the boys as to what the admissions boards at the Oxbridge colleges are looking for.

When they are with Hector, the boys are encouraged to gain knowledge simply for the sake of knowledge, to think critically and to enjoy the ineffable mysteries of life. His classroom is a sort of sanctuary of learning, a place where real-world practicality has no place. Challenging as it is, Hector’s class is about joy, about embracing all that life throws at you.

Their work with Irwin, on the other hand, is all about conformity. Not that he’s teaching them to conform; in fact, he’s doing just the opposite – encouraging them to look at every question that might come up on an essay or in an entrance interview from an alternative angle. He wants them to take contrary points of view – not to encourage freedom of thought, but to help them stand out from the crowd. Truth, honor, morality – these things don’t matter. Only the ultimate goal – admission to Oxbridge – matters. He teaches them that “lying works.”

We know where this leads for Irwin: in the very first scene of the play, we see him in his later life, working in government, spinning an increase in police powers and a reduction of civil rights as actually increasing personal liberty. We know where it leads for Hector, too – as he has a few secrets he’d like to remain hidden. The big question is where this will lead the boys. But that’s a question Bennett leaves us to work out on our own.

If you can’t get to the Broadhurst Theater before “The History Boys” closes in September, you can see the movie that will be released this fall. Same cast, same writer, same director – so I’m hopeful.

“The Drowsy Chaperone”
Like the creation of the universe, “The Drowsy Chaperone” begins in darkness. But instead of “let there be light,” the voice we hear says, “I hate theatre.” In truth, the owner of this voice loves theatre – but the theatre of another time. He longs for a time when people sat in the darkness as a show was about to begin and thought, “What do George and Ira have for us tonight? Can Cole Porter pull it off again? Now we say ‘Please, Elton John, must we continue this charade?”

When the lights come up we discover the voice belongs to a character identified only as “Man in Chair,” sitting next to his phonograph in a drab bed-sitter apartment, feeling blue. (Perhaps fueling the pessimism behind his rant about the state of musical theatre.) But when he’s blue, he likes the cheer himself up by playing his favorite scores of years past. Today he’s turning to his favorite musical of all time, Gable and Stein’s 1928 classic, “The Drowsy Chaperone.” “Remember?” he says, looking to us expectantly. Of course we don’t, because “The Drowsy Chaperone” is an entirely fictional construct, a musical-within-a-musical, intended to pay homage to and send up the sorts of shows one might have found on the Great White Way pre-Depression.

When he drops the needle on the record (and is enraptured by the scratching and hissing of its contact with vinyl), the show comes to life in his apartment. As it unfolds, he comments on the action, almost like a DVD commentary track – but with far more wit and grace. He stops the action from time to time to join in the dancing or give us background on the “real life” romances of the actors in this fictional show, or to explain a bit of the action.

My initial notes about “The Drowsy Chaperone” say this: “It’s almost entirely frivolous. There’s not an important thing about it. The show within the show might be about true love and living one’s dreams, but the show itself is just about a man in a chair feeling blue and seeking diversion. It doesn’t hope for a better future – it yearns for a time long past.” Now I think the opposite might be true: that the show within the show is the frivolous bit, and the show itself actually does have something important to say – about loneliness, or how we distract ourselves from the hard truths of life in order to make it through the day.

Fortunately, “The Drowsy Chaperone” achieves its escapist goals, and does indeed transport us to a lighter, more frivolous place. All in 100 minutes. Bravo for Drowsy.

“Awake & Sing”
This is a Clifford Odets classic from 1935, a bit of a polemic about the workers’ need to rise up and shed their chains, told through the struggles of a working-class Jewish family in the Bronx. The cast, which included Ben Gazzara, Mark Ruffalo and Lauren Ambrose (“Six Feet Under”), was excellent (especially Gazzara and Ruffalo) and the staging and direction first-rate. What I found perhaps most fascinating about this revival is that it was staged in the same theater in which the show had its premiere, the Belasco. Though I had never before been inside the space, it may now be my favorite Broadway theater, with its beautifully detailed interior, featuring murals by Everett Shinn and lighting by Tiffany.

The thematic and emotional resonance of this play from 1935 to now may be found in the character of the grandfather, who rails most against the establishment, and inspires his grandson to “Wake up, boychick!” In the original, he was likely the heart of the play, but in this restaging, his character comes off as a metaphor for an ideal that has failed history’s test.

“Defiance”
John Patrick Shanley’s follow-up to his Tony and Pulitzer Prize-winning “Doubt.” Like “Doubt,” it takes place in the somewhat recent past (1971, as opposed to 1964 for “Doubt”), and like “Doubt,” the setting is an environment where strict discipline and deference to authority are the order of the day. For “Doubt” it was a Bronx Catholic school. In “Defiance,” the setting is the Marine base at Camp LeJeune, North Carolina. Although the story is ostensibly about race relations at the camp, the play is not really about race at all, but duty, honor, idealism – and the human frailties that make those qualities so hard to maintain.

The play itself is excellent, nearly the equal of “Doubt.” Unfortunately though, director Doug Hughes (who also helmed “Doubt”) seems to have missed the rhythms of the piece. Shanley has important things to say, but Hughes dulls the points he is making by letting lines – or even whole scenes – gallop off into the distance in a misguided attempt to maintain momentum. I’d be interested to see someone else take it up again and give it a slightly more relaxed pace.

“Faith Healer”
This is one of those shows that I think is well-acted, well-written, well-staged, well-directed – but that never hooked me. Ralph Fiennes plays a man with – apparently – a true gift for healing, but one that is subject to inconsistency; he never knows when he steps onto the stage and begins bringing the halt and lame to him whether or not he can deliver a cure. Cherry Jones (one of the stage’s greatest talents, but oddly off in this performance) is his long-suffering wife, and Ian McDiarmid is stunning as his manager.

The story is told, Rashomon-like, from the viewpoint of each of these characters, in four separate monologues, book-ended by Fiennes, with one appearance each by Jones and McDiarmid. Because of this, the play takes a great deal of concentration and intellectual effort in order to assemble a sense of what really happened, of what is really true. Not that I don’t mind an intellectual challenge, but with such a dark and brooding subject matter, I’m perhaps not as motivated to stay tuned.

Still, the critics have loved it, and you may, too.

“Tryst”
Can the leopard change its spots? This seems to be the question at the very dark heart of a new play by British playwright Karoline Leach. “Tryst” is the story of Adelaide Pinchin, a milliner with very low self-esteem, who is content to work in the back of the hat shop, where she has no contact with customers who might be disturbed by what she perceives as plainness and clumsiness of manner. One day she is chosen by a con man to be his next mark. George Love finds women with a little bit of money, gets them to fall in love with him and marry. Then, after a single night of wedded bliss (George is always careful to satisfy them sexually – it’s a point of honor with him. Perhaps his only point of honor.), George absconds with whatever assets they have.

Adelaide, it turns out, has hidden depths, a reserve of confidence and self-esteem – and insight – that George hadn’t expected and proves to be more than he seems capable of handling. In the second act, when she turns the tables on him, the plot begins to charge forward: will Adelaide be able to change this man for whom she has unexpectedly fallen? At one point, she says “I’ve seen time going backwards,” and milk is spilled. I’ll leave it to you to discover the result of her rescue efforts, and whether or not the milk is successfully put back in the bottle.

“Based on a Totally True Story”
The territory here – Hollywood corruption of young talent – was handled far better earlier in the year by “The Little Dog Laughed.” But the story of a playwright whose work is solicited by the sharks on the left coast certainly has its laughs, and an appealing nature, but why not wait for “Little Dog” to transfer to Broadway? Especially since the magnificent Julie White will reprise her role in that play as the Hollywood player with the sharpest of fangs.

“Landscape of the Body”
John Guare wrote one of my favorite plays (though I’ve seen only the movie version, unfortunately), “Six Degrees of Separation.” Described once as “the Jackson Pollack of playwrights,” Guare splatters the canvas with multiple ideas and multiple points of view that come at you from many different angles. Lili Taylor, who was a revelation in “Aunt Dan and Lemon” a few seasons ago, seemed oddly disconnected from the role of a mother accused of murdering her son. However, Stephen Scott Scarpullo, who plays the teenage son in question, showed a great deal of power and presence for such a young actor.

Ultimately, “Landscape” never came fully into view for me.

“Red Light Winter”
In this three-hander by writer/director Adam Rapp, two college friends share a hostel room in Amsterdam. One is a slick, fast-talking editor at a publishing house who discovered the “next big thing.” His friend is a struggling novelist, at work on a book – though at the beginning of the play, he’s given up on the book and is attempting to hang himself, but is interrupted by the entry of his editor friend, who brings along a little something to cheer him up: one of the girls from the windows in the red light district. Of course, Christina is not all she seems. Not even close.

There are no glaring problems with “Red Light Winter,” other than a plot that moves rather languidly and ultimately never finds a path worth treading. It simply fails to truly engage. So, no green light for “Red Light Winter.”

“cagelove”
Christopher Denham, who played the troubled writer in “Red Light Winter” turns playwright here. (Adam Rapp, writer/director of “Red Light Winter” also pulls directorial duties for “cagelove.”) His concept is an interesting one: how does a couple on the verge of a new life together cope with a brutal rape by an ex-boyfriend? The answer is, not well.

“cagelove” is not recommended, though there was one very funny line: “Katy cares about you – in the same way a heroin addict cares about methadone.”

“Passion”
This short run of a dance performance was actually quite engaging. The dance troupe Momix is a fascinating group of physical artists, creating forms that range from organic to architectural. This time the music was one of my favorites recordings, “Passion,” Peter Gabriel’s soundtrack for “The Last Temptation of Christ.”

What I found most fascinating about the evening was after the performance, when I was drawn into a conversation on the street with a pair of Australians who had also attended. In California, no one starts conversations with strangers, but in New York, interesting conversation is happening all the time. One of the reasons I’ve grown to love the city so much.

“The Wedding Singer”
The word of mouth had actually been good on this musical adaptation of the Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore film – funny, cute, entertaining. I need to pay closer attention to whom I listen: this was about as entertaining as trimming the hedge. The Jersey girls behind us seemed to like it, though: “Oh my god – that was AWESOME!” I wonder if they realize they were the demographic that was actually being mocked?

“Clocks and Whistles”
A tiny, off-off-Broadway production, imported from England. I have no idea why it was produced there in the first place, let alone being plucked from across the pond. One of the very first rules of drama is that something should be at stake. The only thing at stake in this soggy mess was how fast I could get out of the theater once the torture was over.


Although not everything we saw was successful, I applaud the bravery of those who take the risk of creating art, even when it fails.

Here’s hoping you are all well and happy, and that many of you get the chance to see some of the great work being staged in New York, both on and off Broadway.

Call Monitoring

In the days since USA Today broke the story about the NSA's efforts to analyze telephone traffic, I've come to the conclusion that, for the moment, I'm not upset by it. The content of the calls is not being monitored; only the traffic itself is being analyzed to see if patterns can be discerned. If the NSA can discover potential terrorists who might be operating in the US, or using US-based telephony equipment, good for them. And good for us. Unlike the previous furor over wiretapping, no actual eavesdropping is taking place. In that instance, I think the administration was wrong not to obtain warrants to listen to the phone calls of American citizens.

The problem for in this instance is precedent. Given the very real threat of terrorism, I think it's only prudent to use a technique that doesn't actually step into American's private lives. But given this President's flouting of law and flaunting of executive privilege, I'm not sure where he would draw the line. Would he decide at some point to apply the same techniques in order to, say, prosecute the continuingly ill-conceived drug war? What's to stop the administration from analyzing phone records to determine who's making calls to many different drug stores searching for ephedrine (used to make crystal meth)? Or, for that matter, to determine who might be paying a little less tax than they ought to, or...

Le Mot Juste

Over the past few months, certain writers and columnists have been discussing a phenomenon called "Christianism." Andrew Sullivan says "Christianism is an ideology, politics, an ism. The distinction between Christian and Christianist echoes the distinction we make between Muslim and Islamist. Muslims are those who follow Islam. Islamists are those who want to wield Islam as a political force and conflate state and mosque."

But some would prefer a term other than Christianist: "Christianists...seek to apply their own narrow interpretation of God's law to society at large, punishing those who disagree, and emphasizing adherence to rules over grace and mercy. They might even invent new laws based on their understanding of scripture. Folks like that were called Pharisees back in Jesus' time. Maybe it's just as good a name for them today."

Pander Bear Redux

The pandering continues. This time it's the leader of the Democratic party, Howard Dean. Howard paid a visit to the 700 Club, trying to reach out to evangelical voters. Nothing wrong with that, of course. The problem comes when he misrepresents his party's position because he knows it will be unpopular with his audience, which is pretty much the definition of pandering -- changing your position to suit the audience you are addressing.

While on the show, Dean said the Democratic Party's platform states that "marriage is between a man and a woman." What it actually says is: "We support full inclusion of gay and lesbian families in the life of our nation and seek equal responsibilities, benefits, and protections for these families." Just the tiniest bit different.

And I wonder why I am becoming cynical.

The New Actor's Studio

If you're looking for examples of overacting, professional soccer is the place to find it. Last night I happened upon the Champion's Leauge Cup, the final game of the championship of European soccer clubs, pitting Barcelona against Arsenal. For soccer fans, it's a big deal.

The overacting comes primarily in the form of players feigning injury in order to stop the game to get a little rest (no timeouts in soccer), or to fool an official into calling a penalty on another player. This last ruse actually worked in last night's game, and resulted in the first goal for Arsenal. An official called a foul, which led to a free kick, which led to the goal. But a review of the play shows the Barcelona player made no contact.

At various other times throughout the game, players went down, thrashed on the ground, clutched at their knees or ankles or backs -- and then two minutes later were up and down the pitch as if nothing had happened. One player was barely touched by another, but ended up barrel-rolling across the ground five or six times, as if he'd been thrown from a speeding car.

To those in charge of soccer -- fix this. It's embarrasing, and degrading to the game.

Last Day in New York

The remnants of my baked eggs (delicious!) at Extra Virgin in the Village.


Goods at a Village antique store.


A woman and her crown.

A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief

Last night I went to see a performance by the modern dance troupe, Momix. (A semi-complete review will come after I return from New York.) The music for the piece was "Passion," Peter Gabriel's soundtrack for Martin Scorcese's "The Last Temptation of Christ," one of my favorite records. If you remember, there was a huge furor at the time of that film's release, with Christian groups calling it blasphemy, and expressing horror over the depiction of Jesus as having a relationship with Mary Magdelene. I remember at the time thinking how incredibly wrong-headed and short-sighted the Christians' protests were, as that film came closer to making me a Christian than any other piece of media, including the Bible. (Perhaps especially the Bible!) For me, the power came in that last temptation: Satan came to Christ and showed him what he could have if he denied the cross. He showed him a normal, ordinary life: a loving wife, children, happiness. And yet, Christ chose to make the sacrifice. I found it deeply moving.

Now the Christians are at it again, raising a furor over "The DaVinci Code." This time, I think their case is better, since "The DaVinci Code" is primarily about humanizing Christ, and pays no attention to sacrifice or atonement. Still, I think all they are doing is playing into the hands of the film's publicity machine.

With all the furor and zealotry that is inflamed by media depictions of Christ, it makes me wonder about the true Christian nature of many Church leaders. Does Christ really need their "protection"? Is this the best way to spend part of their limited time on Earth? And that got me thinking about the "Christian" nature of our political leaders, especially our President.

It all put me in mind of a hymn: "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief." The song tells of meeting a man in need: hungry, beaten, in prison, condemned. Each time, he is helped, lifted up, released. In the last verse, the man's identity is revealed:

Then in a moment to my view
The stranger started from disguise.
The tokens in His hands I knew;
The Savior stood before mine eyes.
He spake, and my poor name He named,
“Of Me thou hast not been ashamed.
These deeds shall thy memorial be;
Fear not, thou didst them unto Me.”

The idea behind the song, I was told in church, is that Christ might return in any guise, and that we must therefore treat all humanity with love and respect and dignity. Last night, sitting in the darkened theater, listening to Peter Gabriel's powerful music, I wondered: what if this man was Christ returning to live among us?:

Taking Christianity Back

An excellent piece in Time Magazine by Andrew Sullivan, about the co-opting of Christianity by the Republican right wing.

Required reading.

Midnight in the Goldfish Bowl

David Blaine, last night about midnight, resting on the bottom of his large water-filled sphere on display at Lincoln Center. Blaine will emerge from aquarium tomorrow, after spending eight days inside.

The Perfect Urban Park

I've been to many urban parks around the world -- Hyde Park in London, the Englischer Garten in Munich, Luxembourg Gardens in Paris, Golden Gate Park in San Francisco -- but none measure up to the overall appeal of New York's Central Park.

On my first day of the semi-annual "fill the well" trip to Manhattan, the weather was stunning -- clear skies, mid-70s -- and the park was filled with people enjoying the pleasantness of a spring day. Those who say New York is a tough place weren't in the park today. It was an absolutely delightful day to be alive. I saw dozens of people holding hands, or walking arm in arm. Couples relaxed in each others arms under the trees. A man strolled with his guitar; another played his alto sax at the base of a hill. Children clambered over rocks, dogs on leash took in all the aromas bursting forth. People did yoga on the grass.

If ever there was a day to sell me on the idea of living in New York, Saturday was it.

The Pandering Continues

John McCain, who at one time seemed like a leader who could seize that middle ground that the Democrats and Republicans have left behind in the search for lucre (instead of common sense and respect for American values), is fast becoming just another right-wing theocrat, hungry for power. Why? His willingness to speak at Falwell's Liberty University -- after comparing Falwell's extremism to that of Louis Farrakhan.

Andrew Sullivan (link at right) states it well (as usual): "Falwell and the forces of intolerance he represents control the base of the GOP; and McCain simply has no choice but to kowtow to them. But that in itself is surely an indication of how far right the Republican center has now become. Farrakhan is a religious anti-Semite. Falwell is a religious homophobe. Falwell, however, also blamed Americans for 9/11. He did so while the ashes of many such Americans were still in the air in Manhattan. If he isn't beyond the pale, who is? And if he represents the key to being nominated in the GOP, what has happened to conservatism?"

More Gay Hoopla

In Massachusetts, a handful of parents are suing a school board because a second-grade teacher read a book to her class called "King & King," about a prince who doesn't like any of the princesses and decides to marry another prince. The parents believe this is the first step of indoctrinating children in immorality. "My son is only 7 years old," parent Robin Wirthlin said. "By presenting this kind of issue at such a young age, they're trying to indoctrinate our children. They're intentionally presenting this as a norm, and it's not a value that our family supports." The suit says the school violated a state law which requires parental notification if sex education is being taught.

The thing is, the book doesn't delve into sex any more than "Rapunzel" does. It's merely a picture book that happens to be about two princes falling for each other and marrying. This is clearly an attempt to marginalize gay relationships and make sure they maintain second-class status. Let's hope the court hearing this suit sees it that way.

On the other side of the country, California is considering a law requiring that the accomplishments of gay people be included in history textbooks. State law now requires that "men, women, black Americans, American Indians, Mexicans, Asians, Pacific Island people and other ethnic groups" be included in textbook descriptions of "the economic, political and social development of California and the United States of America, with particular emphasis on portraying the role of these groups in contemporary society." In that context, I don't have a problem with adding gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people to the list.

However, my problem is that there shouldn't be a law like this at all. The criteria for getting into a history book should be, oh, I don't know...making history?

George Bush, the Pander Bear

After getting all worked up about the thought of the national anthem being sung in Spanish, it turns out W sang the song in Spanish HIMSELF while on the campaign trail, pandering for Hispanic votes. Personally, I don't see any need to translate the anthem -- English should work just fine for all Americans, no matter what language they grew up speaking -- but it's just another example of how completely disingenous our President is. I also think it's another example of how the administration uses cheap tactics (in this case, jingoism) to distract people from larger, more important issues.

Lemonade Recipe

On last night's episode of HBO's "Big Love" (better than most TV, but not up to HBO shows such as "The Sopranos" or "Deadwood), one of the characters uttered the cliche "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade." There was always something about that statement that bugged me, but I didn't figure out what it was until a few years ago -- you need SUGAR to make lemonade. If life isn't giving you any sugar, then you're going to have a hard time making lemonade, aren't you? Of course, you could always use the lemons in your tea, or to squeeze over some fresh-cracked dungeness crab, or polish your copper. So really, if life gives you lemons, you have options.

I'm Not Alone

If you've read some of my early posts, especially this one, you know part of my reason for beginning this blog was my frustration with politics as usual, especially the divisive polarization practiced by both Republicans and Democrats. According to an article in the most recent New York magazine, others share my opinion. Read it, as well as the two associated articles, here and here.

United 93 and the Seven Minutes

Just returned from seeing "United 93." I think much of its almost non-stop intensity is achieved through verisimilitude: many of the FAA controllers and military leaders and bureaucrats were played by themselves, and mportant dramatic moments were captured on tape, enabling writer/director Peter Greengrass to recreate them with incredbile precision.

But I wonder -- how much of the communications between the FAA and the military and the White House depicted in the film are also true? I ask because several references are made in the film to the need for presidential approval of rules of engagement. The military needs approval to bring down this commercial plane if it is deemed necessary to prevent greater harm. Only the President can grant this approval. Requests are made, but neither denial nor approval is forthcoming, to the great frustration of the commanders on the ground.

Given the filmmaker's efforts at accuracy throughout the film (and simple common sense), I'm imagining efforts were indeed made to learn the President's mind on this rather imporatant little matter. In fact, we know this is true, because we know the message got to him -- we saw Andy Card whisper it in his ear in that famous bit of footage. And then we watched him keep on reading to those kids for SEVEN MINUTES while some of the most serious shit in history is going down outside.

Radio Right will tell you that during those seven minutes, the country was perfectly safe. That despite being informed by his Chief of Staff that the country was under attack, the President's team had every thing covered and the President did just what he should have. But If "United 93" is accurate on this point about the need for rules of engagement approval, then that's not true. Our President was desperately needed. If not for actual leadership, at the very least for his authority. But he couldn't even give that.

Fortunately, we had Mark Bingham and Todd Beamer and the other passengers of United 93 to be decisive when the President wouldn't be.

The Bad Old Days

Seagate has announced a brand new hard drive: 750 gigabytes for $559. To put that in perspective, the first hard drive I bought, back in 1984, cost about $2000 and stored 20 megabytes. So 37,000 times as much storage for about 1/4 the price. That hardly makes up for all the money I lost when the dot-com bubble burst, but it's a start.

Bonzo Goes Gonzo

Is the real "Planet of the Apes" on its way? First there was this incident. Then a few days ago, in Africa, 27 chimps that had escaped from a preserve attacked several tourists and killed a driver.

Where's Dr. Zaius when you need him?

I Hate Plagiarism

I hate plagiarism, perhaps more than any other minor sin. It's worse than piracy. Pirates merely make illegal copies, but the end user still knows who is the creator of the work. Plagiarists take credit for work someone else has done, usurping the crown of achievement. I am always very careful to give credit for good ideas and good work where it is due, partly for reasons of self-interest: I want to receive that credit when I am the one who's done a good job.

But to attempt to pull off the kind of plagiarism this Harvard sophomore was trying? Did she think people would actually buy her story that it done was "unconciously"? To the point that she was able to remember large passages verbatim, or nearly so? She should be expelled and a portion of the sales of her book should go to the author whose work was lifted.

Blendo Redux

In the tradition of "Brokeback to the Future" comes this heartwarming take on "The Shining."

Napmaster Dick

Cheney claimed he wasn't sleeping during the visit of Chinese president Hu Jintao, just double-checking his notes. But believe me, I know what a man in his mid-60s looks like napping, and this is it.

A CIA Scapegoat?

Here's an interesting piece by a former CIA agent, giving some inside perspective on the recent firing of a CIA agent for allegedly leaking classified information, something that is strictly forbidden unless you are the President, and really NEED need it in order to support a sagging case for spending hundreds of billions of dollars of our money on a family vendetta that will coincidentally enrich many of your closest cronies.

"I'm gonna live forever!"

An interesting piece from writer Walter Kirn, writing on andrewsullivan.com:

"At least the high-school students in Kansas who decided to shoot up their school but were stopped before they could because they first wrote about their plot on MySpace.Com already have an insanity defense.

Can a craving for attention drive people crazy? It seems to have in this case. The motivation for the crime was also, here, the motivation for discussing the crime online, and that has proved fortunate. But it makes me wonder if these sort of massacres-as-spectacle aren't the defining offenses of our time. Even politically-motivated terrorism seems to be an effort to garner publicity.

There's something about the world these days that brings out the worst in the lonely and the obscure and feeds their grudges until they grow enormous. And I don't think it's violent video games and movies. I don't think it's access to firearms. I think it's the simple message that you're not anyone until you've done something worthy of media coverage, whatever that thing may be. The star-system has become a kind of moral code with only one commandment: Thou Shalt Not Go Unnoticed. When the concept of fame broke free from its old grounding in the concept of public virtue -- when it was supplanted by the lesser idea of Warhol-ish celebrity -- the lid was off the jar.

Luckily (I think), the Web has come along, where anyone can make his presence felt -- or have the illusion of making his presence felt -- without having to perpetrate a sensational crime. The Kansas kids were eager to do both, of course, and they foiled themselves. Perhaps the Web's promise of liberating people from anonymity will aggravate their mania, but here's hoping it will bleed it off some."

I post this because the lovingly-crafted post I had made for you was lost in the cyberether. If I work up the resolve, I will attempt to re-create it at a future date.

Important/Not Important

Important Issues:

Global Warming
The War in Iraq
Immigration
Social Security
Education

Not Important Issues:

Flag Burning
Same-Sex Marriage
"Under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance

(It's not that I don't think freedom of speech or equal rights or separation of church and state are important, it's just that these three subjects -- not to mention things like Brangelina's baby and Tom Cruise's Scientology rants -- are often used to distract voters from Important Issues.)

In My Dark Place

From time to time -- and only from time to time, thank goodness -- when the paranoia really kicks in, I think about purchasing firearms. It's not outlaws I fear, but some of the ultra right wingers whose posts I read on discussion boards on the Internet. Some of the things they say (and therefore presumably believe) is enough to curdle the blood: suggesting non-Christians move to other countries, locking gays and lesbians in internment camps, suggesting we run all domestic prisons like Abu Gharaib. In the darkest hours of the night, I worry what might happen to civil liberties if somehow a theocracy managed to come to power in this country. What might they decide to do with a person like me? A card-carrying member of both the ACLU and Human Rights Campaign? I'd be first against the wall.

So when they come for me, I want to be ready. I'm figuring a sniper rifle of some sort to pick them off at long range, a handsome 12 gauge if they make it inside the house, and a nice Glock 9mm for the last stand. Who's with me?

Am I Cold? Am I Heartless?

Perhaps I am, but I just don't understand why the Golden Gate Bridge District is considering spending millions on a study to determine if a suicide barrier would be feasible for the span. First, if someone really has it in for themselves, they'll find a way. Second, wouldn't those millions go farther in preventing suicide if they were invested in, say, mental health programs?

Flipping the Bird Flu

The bird flu worries are starting to hit home; one of my clients was recently required by one of ITS clients to put an avian flu readiness plan into place, which included sending me a PowerPoint presentation listing the different levels of alert and what is required at each level, from increasing handwashing to closing the office entirely.

If N5N1 mutates into a form which can be passed from human to human, I'll just dip myself in Purel every morning.

Just when you thought it couldn't get worse...

...it gets worse. The administration, led by President Bush, is apparently making plans to attack Iran. And not just attack -- a NUCLEAR attack. Tactical nukes designed to hit the bunkers 75 feet under the Iranian countryside. Once, again, our leaders believe our action will be met with cheers by the ordinary citizens of Iran, who will be relieved to be freed of the chains of repression.

Bush doesn't deny the reports, he merely calls them "wild speculation." Speculation merely means conjecture without firm evidence -- it doesn't mean what's being speculated about is true or false.

I don't want Iran to develop nuclear weapons, but I don't think this is about nukes. It seems clear, at least to me, that President Bush and his cronies just can't live without that oil money. They want to control/steal as many major oil fields as they can. The option of conservation and developing alternative energy sources cuts Bush and Cheney and their buddies out of the financial loop.

Scratching the Itch

Earlier this year on "The Apprentice," one of the 16 overachievers selected for the show stated he suffered from "attention surplus disorder." I wouldn't mind catching a mild case of ASD. My focus has been known to flashcut from one point of interest to the next with alarming rapidity, with effects both annoying and beneficial. (Hence the "mild" case.)

This comes to me as my paripatetic mind continues to regularly seize onto golf as the target of my attention. Golf has overwhelmed me in the past two years, and taken over a goodly amount of my mental real estate. But I'm feeling more focused and attentive during these past couple of years than I ever have. Maybe it's just age, but what if golf is a form of self-medication for ADD? After all, ritalin works for some people because it stimulates parts of the brain in a way they crave. Thus satisfied, the rest of the brain can operate with more focused attention, without the distraction of those bits of brain crying out for serotonin and dopamine. Perhaps the consuming pyschological nature of golf scratches some itchy part of my brain for me.

Someone once said "golf is 90% mental, and 10% mental." I have made par on every hole at my favorite local track. So why can't I make 18 of them in a row? I obviously have the physical ability to do so, I've demonstrated it. Therefore, the only thing holding me back is my mind. The fact that I can't achieve on a consistent basis the results I know I am physically capable of achieving drives me to try and puzzle out how to let the mind/body do what my consciousness knows it is capable of. Perhaps contemplating this conundrum occupies the frenetic part of my mind so I can more easily point my attention where I want it to go and keep it there for as long as I choose.

Scooter Fingers Bush

According to a federal prosecutor's report, Scooter Libby was given approval to leak classified information to columnist Robert Novak, as part of the administration's desire to heighten the impression that Iraq was pursuing the acquisition of nuclear weapons technology. Apparently it's not a crime, since the President can de-classify information if he likes, but I don't think that matters a whole lot. It's just another instance of Bush acting like a demagogue, either above the law (FISA wiretaps) or acting AS the law, as in this instance.

It's all starting to sicken me.

A Sovereign Nation Acts

The Oglala Sioux nation of South Dakota apparently plans to step in to fill an unmet need. This time it's not gambling, but abortion.

The Fix is In?

Have the powers at August National Country Club, the uber-exclusive (even Bill Gates couldn't buy his way in), uber-traditional host of Golf's most illustrious event, the annual Masters tournament, fallen in with Nike and the starmakers? Over the last 10 years, the course has been lengthened several times (but never lenghtened in the 62 previous years of its existence). This year they've not only added another 155 yards, they've put in more trees, changed tee locations and generally made a tough course even tougher.

But is it tougher in a way that's designed to help The Man, the golfer who has brought more money and popularity to the game than perhaps any golfer in history, Tiger Woods? In a story on TheGolfChannel.com, Fred Funk said of the new layout: "If they want Tiger to win every year, then they got it with the changes they’ve made."