Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: A complaint
4-2-10
One of the great things about having a blog is being able to complain about something anytime you want. Actually, most blogs are not much more than a series of complaints in various styles, and mine is no exception. Today, I want to complain about my keyboard. All keyboards for that matter.
I have owned 3 laptops in my life. The first one changed my life and ever since it has been imperative that I not only have one with me at all times, but that it always works. I have managed the first part pretty well, but part two has been problematic.
Right now I am typing on my Toshiba Satellite something-or-other. I have also owned a Dell, and a Fujitsu. Here’s how it all started:
Several years ago Nita and I were at my parents house and I was sitting next to dad. He told me it was great to see me and that I didn’t come over enough, which was true. Shortly before that I had started writing seriously and spent most of my time at home in front of the PC, and I told him that while I wanted to visit more often, it was difficult to pull myself away from the writing, which I explained to him and he nodded and agreed that he could see how it could be a problem. I told him that what I needed was a laptop and then I could be sitting right there next to him, visiting, and working on whatever book I was writing. Incredibly, he thought about that, nodded—accepting the wisdom of such an arrangement—and said “what the hell, let’s get you one.”
Needless to say I procured dads credit card and got on-line right then and there and ordered a Dell laptop because two of my nephews were currently working for Dell. Despite that, I received no discount. From then on, the laptop went with me everywhere, in a back pack. And I mean everywhere. If I had ten minutes in the dentists waiting room I wrote. I began frequenting—and when I say frequenting I mean haunting—various eating establishments where they let me hang around for hours nursing a soda while working on whatever novel I had going.
But here’s the thing: Other than surfing the web, the only thing I use a laptop for is writing, and I do a lot of it. Since the main feature of a laptop is its keyboard, and since keyboards are ostensibly designed for typing, one might assume that manufacturers would design and build keyboards robustly enough to withstand oh . . . say, typing on it. This turns out not to be the case. As I type 5 letters are worn completely off their keys. A,S,E,C . . . and the T,L, the ‘period/greater-than key, the left shift key and the spacebar are all going fast. Not to mention the return button. In fact, the spacebar is in imminent danger of being worn completely through. This has occurred on all three laptops I have owned, and in less than 3 years in every case.
I am not a touch typist. My wife is. I have to look at the letters in order to hit them. She does not. In fact, she has no idea what letter is where on a keyboard—she’d never even heard of the term QWERTY before! She is a touch typist who works from muscle-memory, and she is very good, not to mention fast. I know where every letter is and could draw a diagram of the keyboard from memory, but I can’t hit them without being able to look at them.
The point of this is that it is a nuisance bordering on catastrophe when the identifying letter has been worn away from the key I need. I have to remember, look for it, or I type the wrong one.
I’m wondering if anyone else out there has experienced this problem, regardless of brand? Am I alone? Am I a freak, abusing my keyboards with my constant and apparently brutal finger-slamming? Or are the manufacturers universally cheap? The girl at Best Buy’s tech help window assured me they had never seen such a thing before, but she could have been lying. She was cute enough for such behavior.
It is my opinion that letters wearing off is a design flaw of the most obvious and fundamental kind. How hard would it be to emboss the letter down into the plastic key and then paint it? I mean, c’mon! Even I thought of it!
Toshiba won’t even talk to me about it. They cleverly do not provide an email address for complaints, or even customer service. And I find it interesting and suspicious that we never had this problem with typewriters. (For those of you under thirty, the typewriter was a mechanical device which, when its keys were pressed down, printed directly onto the paper.)
Well . . . I feel better. But writing this memo has worn off the rest of the T key.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
IGM Climategate . . .
Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: Climategate . . . again
I know, I know, it’s beginning to sound like a broken record. But I just can’t leave it alone.
A story is circulating around the UK, but getting no airplay here, that may be the death knoll for global warming, esp. the anthropomorphic kind.
Professor Phil Jones, one of the principals on the IPCC, admitted publically a few days ago that there has been no warming of the global climate in fifteen years. Further, he told a press conference that the medieval period of AD 800 to 1300 was warmer than any highs in the last two hundred years or so. They are still arguing as to whether this was a local (Europe and North America) phenomenon or truly global.
In a stunning revelation, Jones admitted that the reason he had not come forth with critical data, pursued by the freedom of information act, is because he has lost a lot of it. Including the data that gave us Al Gore’s infamous “hockey stick graph.”
As if all this wasn’t enough, an even more embarrassing revelation has recently seen the light of day: It seems that the “apparent” rise in global temps was due to poor placement of data gathering stations. John Christy, an atmospheric prof at the University of Alabama (and former lead writer for the IPCC) said:
“The apparent temperature rise was actually caused by local factors affecting the weather stations, such as land development.”
To reinforce that confession of what can only be described as professional incompetence, Ross McKitric, University of Guelph in Canada, had been invited to review the IPCC report. His conclusion?
“We concluded, with overwhelming statistical significance, that the IPCC’s climate data are contaminated with surface effects from industrialization and data quality problems. These add up to a large warming bias.”
Remember the report that the Andes were losing their snow pack and in imminent danger of drying up? (Well, you probably don’t but it was reported . . .) Turns out the reporting station wasn’t giving the researchers the data they wanted—which was support for the melting idea—so they moved the station halfway down the mountain where the data would be affected by the warmer and wetter Amazon basin. That isn’t incompetence; it’s disingenuous at best and criminal at worst.
The funniest thing to have happened recently—as far as Climategate goes—is this: Donald Trump (Admittedly a non-entity in the GCC debate) has called for the Nobel committee to take back Al Gore’s Nobel Prize. The Donald is a little slow on the uptake, but he is a shrewd player and politician. If he is calling for Gore’s head, then the climate really has changed. Yours truly has been calling for Gore’s metaphorical beheading since the day he was awarded the thing. If Trump is going public then he thinks Gore is already doomed and the world’s opinion has reached a tipping point. The only people still clueless are a few cranky (i.e., liberal) politicians and the Obama administration, which is doggedly keeping its head in the cool sand of willful ignorance.
To: All personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: Climategate . . . again
I know, I know, it’s beginning to sound like a broken record. But I just can’t leave it alone.
A story is circulating around the UK, but getting no airplay here, that may be the death knoll for global warming, esp. the anthropomorphic kind.
Professor Phil Jones, one of the principals on the IPCC, admitted publically a few days ago that there has been no warming of the global climate in fifteen years. Further, he told a press conference that the medieval period of AD 800 to 1300 was warmer than any highs in the last two hundred years or so. They are still arguing as to whether this was a local (Europe and North America) phenomenon or truly global.
In a stunning revelation, Jones admitted that the reason he had not come forth with critical data, pursued by the freedom of information act, is because he has lost a lot of it. Including the data that gave us Al Gore’s infamous “hockey stick graph.”
As if all this wasn’t enough, an even more embarrassing revelation has recently seen the light of day: It seems that the “apparent” rise in global temps was due to poor placement of data gathering stations. John Christy, an atmospheric prof at the University of Alabama (and former lead writer for the IPCC) said:
“The apparent temperature rise was actually caused by local factors affecting the weather stations, such as land development.”
To reinforce that confession of what can only be described as professional incompetence, Ross McKitric, University of Guelph in Canada, had been invited to review the IPCC report. His conclusion?
“We concluded, with overwhelming statistical significance, that the IPCC’s climate data are contaminated with surface effects from industrialization and data quality problems. These add up to a large warming bias.”
Remember the report that the Andes were losing their snow pack and in imminent danger of drying up? (Well, you probably don’t but it was reported . . .) Turns out the reporting station wasn’t giving the researchers the data they wanted—which was support for the melting idea—so they moved the station halfway down the mountain where the data would be affected by the warmer and wetter Amazon basin. That isn’t incompetence; it’s disingenuous at best and criminal at worst.
The funniest thing to have happened recently—as far as Climategate goes—is this: Donald Trump (Admittedly a non-entity in the GCC debate) has called for the Nobel committee to take back Al Gore’s Nobel Prize. The Donald is a little slow on the uptake, but he is a shrewd player and politician. If he is calling for Gore’s head, then the climate really has changed. Yours truly has been calling for Gore’s metaphorical beheading since the day he was awarded the thing. If Trump is going public then he thinks Gore is already doomed and the world’s opinion has reached a tipping point. The only people still clueless are a few cranky (i.e., liberal) politicians and the Obama administration, which is doggedly keeping its head in the cool sand of willful ignorance.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
NOTICE
FYI: On December 8th, I had a heart attack and emergency triple by-pass surgery. As a result I have not posted in a while, but I am feeling better and slowly getting back on my feet. I look forward to regaling you all with pointless drivel once again, and thanks for coming back now and then.
Wayne
Wayne
Saturday, December 19, 2009
IGM I'm back
Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: I’m back . . . .
12-19-09
I’m back. Back from the brink, back from almost being an ex-human, at best a Zombie and at worst some nameless corpse lying in St James Infirmary.
Having read my daughters less-than-respectful announcement concerning my recent run of bad luck, I wish to set the record straight.
I was in fact kidnapped, and whisked to the Planet Zorg where I was tortured by mean Zorgians who ride T-Rex’s bare-back—that’s how mean they are.
The Zorgians, having coalesced into doctors, nurses and relatives, will be getting theirs. That’s all I have to say about that.
A quick update will have to suffice for the moment since being conscious for more than a 5 minute stretch brings on bouts of coughing violent enough to have created the word “lunger.”
It was the worst and best experience I have ever had. The worst because I almost died, and the best because I didn’t.
I am learning about muscles I didn’t know I had, all of which I apparently abused during my enforced incarceration. I am learning what “weak as a kitten” means. Our kitten, Frankie, routinely beats me not only at fly-batting now, but chess and Monopoly as well.
I believe I am learning the things this experience is meant to be teaching me. This is good and bad news for some of you. Good in that I am still teachable, bad in that I will be coming to some of your houses to pass along messages from the other side.
I am going to keep a journal for the next 6 months or so, and then maybe write a book, which I will call The Heart Attack. So keep those coupons if you prayed for me; they can be redeemed for a free copy.
One quick anecdote. (I was in a coma for about five days, so this comes from my daughter, Jessica.)
At some point—which she counts as blessed because it was the first time I looked up and recognized anyone—I asked her if she had any idea how many people were praying for me. She told me no, how many?
“About a hundred million,” I apparently answered. I laughed with everyone else when she told us the story, but now that I’ve had time to think about it, I believe my estimate was correct. I felt them. All my ancestors were helping, and all the people on this side as well.
There is a wonderful funeral scene in The Thirteenth Warrior where a woman is chanting her husband’s death.
“Lo, there do I see my Father,” she intones as she is raised above the waiting bier.
“Lo, there do I see my Mother.”
“Lo, there do I see my brothers and my sisters and the line of my people back to the beginning. They call to me, and bid me join them in Valhalla.”
That’s what it felt like to have the powers of Heaven called down and my spirit told to stay, it was not my time. Like it was all of them.
To: All personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: I’m back . . . .
12-19-09
I’m back. Back from the brink, back from almost being an ex-human, at best a Zombie and at worst some nameless corpse lying in St James Infirmary.
Having read my daughters less-than-respectful announcement concerning my recent run of bad luck, I wish to set the record straight.
I was in fact kidnapped, and whisked to the Planet Zorg where I was tortured by mean Zorgians who ride T-Rex’s bare-back—that’s how mean they are.
The Zorgians, having coalesced into doctors, nurses and relatives, will be getting theirs. That’s all I have to say about that.
A quick update will have to suffice for the moment since being conscious for more than a 5 minute stretch brings on bouts of coughing violent enough to have created the word “lunger.”
It was the worst and best experience I have ever had. The worst because I almost died, and the best because I didn’t.
I am learning about muscles I didn’t know I had, all of which I apparently abused during my enforced incarceration. I am learning what “weak as a kitten” means. Our kitten, Frankie, routinely beats me not only at fly-batting now, but chess and Monopoly as well.
I believe I am learning the things this experience is meant to be teaching me. This is good and bad news for some of you. Good in that I am still teachable, bad in that I will be coming to some of your houses to pass along messages from the other side.
I am going to keep a journal for the next 6 months or so, and then maybe write a book, which I will call The Heart Attack. So keep those coupons if you prayed for me; they can be redeemed for a free copy.
One quick anecdote. (I was in a coma for about five days, so this comes from my daughter, Jessica.)
At some point—which she counts as blessed because it was the first time I looked up and recognized anyone—I asked her if she had any idea how many people were praying for me. She told me no, how many?
“About a hundred million,” I apparently answered. I laughed with everyone else when she told us the story, but now that I’ve had time to think about it, I believe my estimate was correct. I felt them. All my ancestors were helping, and all the people on this side as well.
There is a wonderful funeral scene in The Thirteenth Warrior where a woman is chanting her husband’s death.
“Lo, there do I see my Father,” she intones as she is raised above the waiting bier.
“Lo, there do I see my Mother.”
“Lo, there do I see my brothers and my sisters and the line of my people back to the beginning. They call to me, and bid me join them in Valhalla.”
That’s what it felt like to have the powers of Heaven called down and my spirit told to stay, it was not my time. Like it was all of them.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
IGM Nobel Prize
Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: Nobel Prize
10-09-09
Which do we suppose was more inevitable? That the President would win the Nobel Peace Prize, or that I would comment on it? (Actually, I don’t think there are levels of inevitability—a thing either is or isn’t.) The Nobel committee is an autonomous organization and is free to choose anyone they want for any prize they want to award. As unbelievable as it is, they do not consult with me on these matters. Obama is the third President to be so honored, but the others had managed to do something first. Even the President’s supporters are stumped as to the choice, stumbling over themselves to let us know that it is the great hope and promise for a better, more peaceful world for which the President was selected. Jimmy Carter, another winner, came out first thing this morning to assure us all that it is the hope Obama engenders that makes him such a good candidate. Lech Walesa, another winner (for being instrumental in freeing Poland and the Eastern Bloc—an actual achievement) made a statement this morning saying that the prize for Obama was premature.
It would be possible, without a great deal of effort, to be critical of this choice. I would never do such a thing, but others are piling it on with gusto. But if I had known that all you had to do was talk about doing great things, make promises about doing great things, I would have been vying for the Prize years ago. Watch: “I hereby promise to do everything in my power and spend every waking minute (unless I’m playing basketball or vacationing or pitching Chicago for the Olympics or campaigning for re-election, etc.,) to make the world a better, more peaceful place . . . oh, and do away with all nuclear weapons.” There, now can I have my $250,000? C’mon, I promised! What more do you want?
This sounds a lot like some of my students who want to know why they are failing.
“Because you have an F on all your assignments,” I tell them.
“But I did them all! I should be passing!” Or; “because you haven’t done any assignments.” “but I come to class every day!”
This is the new idea of awarding potential rather than actual work in order to protect the sacrosanct concept of “self-esteem”. I guess Norway has jumped onboard.
Remember the good old days when merit was based on achievement? Boy, I miss all that.
If the Nobel Committee wanted to award a Peace Prize to someone, they should pick a person with a lifetime of commitment, effort, success, and achievement. I nominate Joan Baez. She has been consistently speaking out for peace and non-violence for fifty years, giving hundred of concerts as fund raisers, visiting the oppressed—sometimes at great personal risk—and enduring the ire of her fellow activists when she goes off-reservation in order to remain consistent with her principles. She is far more eligible than the President.
Obama has been President for nine months. So far he has managed to build an international cult of personality, and spend a gazillion virtual dollars. He talks a good game. And he has made a lot of grandiose promises about hope and change. But so far, he hasn’t actually accomplished anything noteworthy. (Unless you count that cool photo op with Air Force One over New York City or losing the bid for the Olympics.) I hope he accomplishes great things for this country, I really do. But I agree with Lech; this award is premature.
BTW---The deadline for nominations was last February, which means Obama had been President for less than a month when he was nominated. Go figure.
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: Nobel Prize
10-09-09
Which do we suppose was more inevitable? That the President would win the Nobel Peace Prize, or that I would comment on it? (Actually, I don’t think there are levels of inevitability—a thing either is or isn’t.) The Nobel committee is an autonomous organization and is free to choose anyone they want for any prize they want to award. As unbelievable as it is, they do not consult with me on these matters. Obama is the third President to be so honored, but the others had managed to do something first. Even the President’s supporters are stumped as to the choice, stumbling over themselves to let us know that it is the great hope and promise for a better, more peaceful world for which the President was selected. Jimmy Carter, another winner, came out first thing this morning to assure us all that it is the hope Obama engenders that makes him such a good candidate. Lech Walesa, another winner (for being instrumental in freeing Poland and the Eastern Bloc—an actual achievement) made a statement this morning saying that the prize for Obama was premature.
It would be possible, without a great deal of effort, to be critical of this choice. I would never do such a thing, but others are piling it on with gusto. But if I had known that all you had to do was talk about doing great things, make promises about doing great things, I would have been vying for the Prize years ago. Watch: “I hereby promise to do everything in my power and spend every waking minute (unless I’m playing basketball or vacationing or pitching Chicago for the Olympics or campaigning for re-election, etc.,) to make the world a better, more peaceful place . . . oh, and do away with all nuclear weapons.” There, now can I have my $250,000? C’mon, I promised! What more do you want?
This sounds a lot like some of my students who want to know why they are failing.
“Because you have an F on all your assignments,” I tell them.
“But I did them all! I should be passing!” Or; “because you haven’t done any assignments.” “but I come to class every day!”
This is the new idea of awarding potential rather than actual work in order to protect the sacrosanct concept of “self-esteem”. I guess Norway has jumped onboard.
Remember the good old days when merit was based on achievement? Boy, I miss all that.
If the Nobel Committee wanted to award a Peace Prize to someone, they should pick a person with a lifetime of commitment, effort, success, and achievement. I nominate Joan Baez. She has been consistently speaking out for peace and non-violence for fifty years, giving hundred of concerts as fund raisers, visiting the oppressed—sometimes at great personal risk—and enduring the ire of her fellow activists when she goes off-reservation in order to remain consistent with her principles. She is far more eligible than the President.
Obama has been President for nine months. So far he has managed to build an international cult of personality, and spend a gazillion virtual dollars. He talks a good game. And he has made a lot of grandiose promises about hope and change. But so far, he hasn’t actually accomplished anything noteworthy. (Unless you count that cool photo op with Air Force One over New York City or losing the bid for the Olympics.) I hope he accomplishes great things for this country, I really do. But I agree with Lech; this award is premature.
BTW---The deadline for nominations was last February, which means Obama had been President for less than a month when he was nominated. Go figure.
IGM: Brilliant Idea
Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: Brilliant Plan
10-09-09
I was having a conversation with a colleague (who will remain nameless in order to avoid prosecution) the other day. She (or he!) mentioned something a friend’s teacher-father told her/him years ago. The teacher thought if all the teachers at a school could choose five students and “take them out” at the beginning of the year, he thought he might be able to endure an entire career of facing adolescents.
Hmmmmmm . . . I think there might be some merit to this tongue-in-cheek fantasy. Let us reason together:
Let’s say we waited until the official count in September and then had a day during which every teacher could submit five names of problem children to be removed. Three weeks would be plenty of time to ascertain existing and potential problems. We could all have a two or three-tiered list of five kids each. If two or more teachers submitted the same name, that kid would be snatched and we would be allowed to submit another student from the next tier. Say we had 80 teachers. That would be 400 students; ostensibly the worst discipline problems in the building. Class sizes would be reduced and leveling would be simpler. Time and money spent on discipline and all its attendant challenges would plummet. The consumption of anti-depressants, anti-anxiety and anti-psychotic drugs would be drastically reduced, turn over would go down . . . there’s no down-side! Think of the money we’d save.
I suppose we don’t have to actually shoot them. We could expel them for the year and let them try again next year. Oh, and this might be effective; anyone sent home during the “Teacher day of Deliverance” would be expected to pay tuition from then on, having abrogated their right to a free education due to inappropriate and unacceptable behavioral issues. Whatever the Community College is charging should suffice. Now, all you teachers out there sit back and relax, close your eyes for a moment and think about that handful of students who are causing you such pain and misery. Imagine them gone, the class quiet and reasonably well behaved, learning taking place. Would not, in this one case, the end justify the means?
Okay, open your eyes again. Welcome back to reality.
This message was brought to you by Prozac—the “teachers choice.”
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: Brilliant Plan
10-09-09
I was having a conversation with a colleague (who will remain nameless in order to avoid prosecution) the other day. She (or he!) mentioned something a friend’s teacher-father told her/him years ago. The teacher thought if all the teachers at a school could choose five students and “take them out” at the beginning of the year, he thought he might be able to endure an entire career of facing adolescents.
Hmmmmmm . . . I think there might be some merit to this tongue-in-cheek fantasy. Let us reason together:
Let’s say we waited until the official count in September and then had a day during which every teacher could submit five names of problem children to be removed. Three weeks would be plenty of time to ascertain existing and potential problems. We could all have a two or three-tiered list of five kids each. If two or more teachers submitted the same name, that kid would be snatched and we would be allowed to submit another student from the next tier. Say we had 80 teachers. That would be 400 students; ostensibly the worst discipline problems in the building. Class sizes would be reduced and leveling would be simpler. Time and money spent on discipline and all its attendant challenges would plummet. The consumption of anti-depressants, anti-anxiety and anti-psychotic drugs would be drastically reduced, turn over would go down . . . there’s no down-side! Think of the money we’d save.
I suppose we don’t have to actually shoot them. We could expel them for the year and let them try again next year. Oh, and this might be effective; anyone sent home during the “Teacher day of Deliverance” would be expected to pay tuition from then on, having abrogated their right to a free education due to inappropriate and unacceptable behavioral issues. Whatever the Community College is charging should suffice. Now, all you teachers out there sit back and relax, close your eyes for a moment and think about that handful of students who are causing you such pain and misery. Imagine them gone, the class quiet and reasonably well behaved, learning taking place. Would not, in this one case, the end justify the means?
Okay, open your eyes again. Welcome back to reality.
This message was brought to you by Prozac—the “teachers choice.”
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Igm Bid for the Olympics
Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: The bid for the Olympics
10-06-09
Well, President Obama did his best. He flew Air Force One (along with the two Air Force heavy-lifters, a dozen automobiles, a few helicopters and about a hundred people) over to Denmark in order to show the IOC how serious we all were about getting Chicago into the games. That’s what we all wanted, right? Actually, I didn’t even know Chicago was in the running so I may not have been as enthusiastic as the President might have hoped.
There has been some talk—criticism even, if you can believe it—about whether or not stumping for an Olympic bid is worthy of his time and attention. Nonsense. What else has he got to do? Health Care is tanking, he’s ignoring Afghanistan, and Michelle apparently has all the clothes and hamburgers she needs. So by all means, why not make a bid for a City—not the country mind you, just one of its cities.
But here’s the unbelievable part; he didn’t get it. The leader of the free world flies his (admittedly impressive) entourage all the way to Copenhagen, talks to hundreds of people, wines and dines them, explains why he should get things his way, and after all that, he loses.
Here’s what I think happened, and I assumed it would pan out this way the moment I heard what he was doing. The President goes out of his way to curry favor with the IOC, lending the prestige of his office and his personal cache to the effort. This had to be seen as a blatant attempt to pressure the committee into doing his bidding, and would inevitably become a pissing contest. The IOC had to save face, show the world in no uncertain terms that it was not the toady of the United States. The moment Obama paid any attention to the selection process, Chicago was doomed. It was the worst thing he could have done for the effort, and I’m surprised no one mentioned this at the time. It was poorly conceived and poorly executed. At this point a lesser person would make some kind of cheap shot about this kind of thing becoming a trend with this administration, but not me. It’s a tough job requiring high levels of skill, intelligence, wisdom and experience. I’m sure the President will develop these traits eventually.
Still, I can see how it would be tempting to go to bat for one’s home town, or even adopted hometown. There is a certain amount of pride involved, and I have to ask myself the question; if I were President would I do the same for Las Vegas, which is where I was born? And I have to be honest. The answer is no, absolutely not. Such a stunt would be unseemly and distracting, especially in the midst of war, severe economic challenges and domestic debates of national importance.
To: All personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: The bid for the Olympics
10-06-09
Well, President Obama did his best. He flew Air Force One (along with the two Air Force heavy-lifters, a dozen automobiles, a few helicopters and about a hundred people) over to Denmark in order to show the IOC how serious we all were about getting Chicago into the games. That’s what we all wanted, right? Actually, I didn’t even know Chicago was in the running so I may not have been as enthusiastic as the President might have hoped.
There has been some talk—criticism even, if you can believe it—about whether or not stumping for an Olympic bid is worthy of his time and attention. Nonsense. What else has he got to do? Health Care is tanking, he’s ignoring Afghanistan, and Michelle apparently has all the clothes and hamburgers she needs. So by all means, why not make a bid for a City—not the country mind you, just one of its cities.
But here’s the unbelievable part; he didn’t get it. The leader of the free world flies his (admittedly impressive) entourage all the way to Copenhagen, talks to hundreds of people, wines and dines them, explains why he should get things his way, and after all that, he loses.
Here’s what I think happened, and I assumed it would pan out this way the moment I heard what he was doing. The President goes out of his way to curry favor with the IOC, lending the prestige of his office and his personal cache to the effort. This had to be seen as a blatant attempt to pressure the committee into doing his bidding, and would inevitably become a pissing contest. The IOC had to save face, show the world in no uncertain terms that it was not the toady of the United States. The moment Obama paid any attention to the selection process, Chicago was doomed. It was the worst thing he could have done for the effort, and I’m surprised no one mentioned this at the time. It was poorly conceived and poorly executed. At this point a lesser person would make some kind of cheap shot about this kind of thing becoming a trend with this administration, but not me. It’s a tough job requiring high levels of skill, intelligence, wisdom and experience. I’m sure the President will develop these traits eventually.
Still, I can see how it would be tempting to go to bat for one’s home town, or even adopted hometown. There is a certain amount of pride involved, and I have to ask myself the question; if I were President would I do the same for Las Vegas, which is where I was born? And I have to be honest. The answer is no, absolutely not. Such a stunt would be unseemly and distracting, especially in the midst of war, severe economic challenges and domestic debates of national importance.
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