11/23/09 1:08 PM

Health Care

1525.jpgIt now seems clear, thanks to the reliably egregious Senator Lieberman -- when it comes to being disappointing, he never disappoints -- with the pusillanimous complicity of Senators Nelson, Landrieu, and Lincoln, that genuine health care reform, reform that provides universal affordable care, is probably dead this Congressional session. Which is not to say there will be no legislation at all; I'd be surprised if some sort of health care bill doesn't pass before the end of the year, and I'd be downright gobsmacked if, after such a bill passes, the president doesn't sign it. 

Perhaps it will have an opt-out or opt-in or triggering mechanism whose operation will come into play some years in the future, or perhaps it will have no provision for a public option at all. But in any case, there will, assuredly, be no immediate public option in the bill that reaches the president's desk, or any alternative provision that guarantees affordable health care to everyone. The votes simply aren't there, and the publicly-expressed intransigence of at least two of the four Democratic hold-outs allows no room for maneuver, no face-saving formula permitting them to backtrack without looking like yutzes.

It's a shame. And an affront, too. Anyone who has bothered to listen to any of the debate, in either the House or Senate, has learned yet again how debased our political discourse has become. Frank Luntz's muddy paw prints were all over the opposition's rhetoric. Despite widespread public support for health care reform, the opposition pressed all the buttons their briefing memos assured them remained hot. "The Pelosi plan," every Republican called it.  "Government take-over of the health care system," was a phrase employed so often it ended up sounding like a single word. Any serious discussion of the merits of the various proposals was almost entirely lacking. By and large, shibboleths and focus-group-tested talking points were the best the other side could muster.

This too is a shame; there are serious, responsible arguments, political and economic, to be made in opposition, and a serious debate about the merits of federalized health care could only refine the areas of disagreement and ultimately improve the legislation itself. But has serious argumentation become a quaint concept in contemporary American politics? You betcha.

So, with a watered-down health bill the best one can hope for, should we therefore despair? At the moment, for those of us who believe the United States ought to join the ranks of civilized industrialized nations and make medical care a basic right of every citizen, it's hard to deny that despair is an appropriate reaction. Much of what Presidents Truman, Kennedy, Johnson, and Clinton tried and failed to provide in the past will not be in this bill either. But there's a historical precedent for what's happening now that may, if one is prepared to take the long view, offer some basis for optimism.

I'm just old enough to remember the civil rights bill the U.S. Senate succeeded in passing in 1957. I was a little boy at the time, but it was much-discussed in my household and in the households of many of my friends. By the time Majority Leader Lyndon Johnson got the thing through the Senate, it was a toothless, emasculated vestige of what had originally been envisioned. So many compromises had been necessary to round up the requisite number of votes and overcome the Dixiecrat filibuster, the bill basically failed to actually do anything substantive. Insofar as it was a triumph at all, it was a purely symbolic triumph.

But its passage was still grounds for celebration. It laid down a marker: Civil rights legislation could pass, the heretofore impassable Southern obstructionist bloc could be overcome. And for the first time since Reconstruction, there was, as a result, a new civil rights bill on the books. It didn't do much, but still, a precedent had been established, a corner had been turned, a new set of possibilities could now be glimpsed. Nobody was especially happy with the bill as passed, but anybody who cared about civil rights was heartened by its passage all the same. It laid the groundwork for the great civil rights bills that were to follow several years later.
      
Every Democratic president since Harry Truman has hoped to achieve something resembling universal health care, and thus far, all have been foiled. And so, while the bill Barack Obama ends up signing is likely to be a piss-poor thing, with compromises galore, with almost every element dear to liberal hearts either etiolated beyond recognition or excised from the bill altogether, it still will represent a considerable achievement. For the first time, a foot will have gotten in the door; once that door has been opened a crack, it's much more likely in the future to be opened further than to be slammed shut.

(Photo: Brendan Smialowski/Getty Images)

10/30/09 12:04 PM

In Memoriam Soupy Sales

soupy sales.JPGIt was pure absurdist surrealism in the guise of a kids' show.

I was 12 when I first saw Soupy Sales. His show was on a local LA station; this was several years before he moved his operation to New York and achieved a certain national notoriety. Twelve was the perfect age for such an encounter, really: too mature for the simple kids' entertainment that the show purported to be, but just about old enough to begin to grasp, with delighted amazement, what it was actually aiming for.

There was Soupy, with his wonderful rubbery face, full of warmth and manic glee, and his outlandish garb--a dumb floppy hat and baggy black sweater and outsize bow tie--and his low-rent set and his menagerie of puppets. All the conventional apparatus of an ordinary children's afternoon show. But initial appearances were deceptive. Within minutes of my switching the show on, it became obvious to me that something almost insurrectionary was occurring. Even at age twelve, I could see that the joke wasn't Soupy Sales being hit in the face with a pie; the joke was that being hit in the face with a pie was, in some circles, for some insane reason, considered a joke.

Even his puppets were off-kilter.  Two were simply arms thrust through Soupy's front door, intended to represent his two temperamentally opposed dogs, White Fang ("the biggest and sweetest dog in the world") and Black Tooth ("the biggest and meanest dog in the world").  They spoke in growls, one a syrupy falsetto growl, the other a menacing bass growl.  Another puppet, an actual hand puppet this time, appearing at Soupy's window rather than his door, was the small lion, Pookie, possessor of boundless cockiness and narcissistic self-regard.  For some reason, he always addressed Soupy Sales as "Boobie."  And when he blew a kiss to his fans --- we were all his fans, of course --- he would declare in his anomalously plummy tenor voice, "There you go.  Now divvy it up amongst you."
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10/29/09 11:06 AM

A Few Words About Coughing

symphony.JPGMy wife and I visited New York for several days, and this past Sunday, we went to Lincoln Center to hear Bernard Haitink conduct the London Symphony Orchestra in Mahler's Ninth Symphony. It was a wonderful concert in every way, but the experience led me -- not for the first time -- to think about coughing.
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10/09/09 12:11 PM

Eyes on the Prize

Thumbnail image for obama praying_chip somodevilla.jpgOf course, some hard-headed realists amongst us --- and not only the right-wingers and Republicans in that company --- will be skeptical.  Some will even be sneering.  And I don't mean to suggest such a reaction is utterly indefensible.  This year's Nobel Peace Prize isn't an abomination, like the 1973 prize to Henry Kissinger and Le Duc Tho.  But by even the most charitable of interpretations, it is premature, and, depending upon unforeseeable future decisions and future events, it might well prove to have been entirely misguided.  President Obama's achievements are still out there waiting to be achieved.  Some have called them aspirational;  they could, with equal justice, be called theoretical.

It's clear enough that this prize is at least as much an anti-Nobel for George W. Bush as a Nobel for Barack Obama (the same could be said, at least in part, about Al Gore's prize in 2007, but Gore had more concrete achievements to his credit).  The Nobel Committee can't punish, it can only reward, so it sometimes chooses to punish indirectly by way of its rewards.  The harm done to the world, and to America's reputation in the world, by the Bush presidency is almost beyond reckoning.  Obama gets points for simply not being Bush.  But there's more to it than that.  He also gets points for implicitly and explicitly repudiating the most egregious things Bush stood for.  For embodying a different stance toward the world, a different notion of how a superpower should behave in the world.  For being, self-evidently, a thoughtful and civilized man.

And the United States gets points for electing him.  This Nobel Prize is, in some ways, enlightened world opinion's way of saying, "Welcome back, America.  You've been missed."  Winning that reaction is an achievement in itself, and not a negligible one.

The suggestion proffered by some that the president should decline the prize is silly;  declining the prize would be a boorish insult to the Nobel Committee, and would, arguably, suggest greater narcissism than accepting it ("Who does he think he is, Jean-Paul Sartre?").  Obama's statement at the White House this morning was a model of elegant modesty (whether feigned or not) and gracious deflection.
      
Like so many others (including, I suspect, Barack Obama), my first reaction this morning upon hearing the news was straightforward incredulity.  But my second reaction, following almost immediately upon the first, was patriotic pride.  The incredulity was absolutely justified, but --- just maybe --- the pride also has a legitimate claim.

(Photo: Getty/Chip Somodevilla)

10/05/09 4:22 PM

Close Listening

music.JPGBeautiful music can easily lull us into a state of beatific passivity.  And there's nothing wrong with that; we all can use a little beatific passivity now and then.  Sometimes, though, there's something to be said for staying alert and paying close attention.

On virtually every commercial recording of Bartok's second violin concerto, you'll discover the same anecdote related in the liner notes: in 1936, a Hungarian fiddler named Zoltan Szekely approached Bartok with a commission for a violin concerto. The composer countered the offer with one of his own, suggesting as an alternative a large-scale set of variations for violin and orchestra.  But Szekely was adamant; he wanted a traditional virtuoso concerto constructed along traditional lines.

Bartok couldn't afford to turn down the commission, so instead he ingeniously set about satisfying both violinist and himself. He supplied Szekely with the three-movement concerto the violinist sought (and an extremely exciting and challenging showpiece it is).  But in the course of doing so, he made the second movement a set of variations on an original theme -- thereby sneaking in a set of variations while violating no concerto norms -- and, more astoundingly, he devised a third movement that does everything a finale is supposed to do, but is also, in addition, a gigantic variation of the first movement.

It's a good story, and any writer of liner notes would be derelict to leave it out.  But what does it actually mean to listeners coming to the piece afresh?  Plenty, potentially.

I first became obsessed with the piece in my sophomore year in college.  At first, I just listened to it casually while doing other things, but then it began to seize hold of me.  For several weeks, I found myself listening to it nightly with the score in front of me (Yehudi Menuhin's wonderful performance on Mercury, with Antal Dorati conducting the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra), and sometimes more than nightly, often after some herbal intake. (This was Berkeley in the '60s, after all.)  And I can still remember my exhilaration, during the fourth or fifth focused audition, when the structure of the piece suddenly revealed itself to me.  I had loved the music from the beginning, but this time, the hair literally stood up on the back of my neck.

A little bit of understanding made a lot of difference.  To the music's surface beauty was added a new dimension, a dimension of deep (almost unfathomable) intelligence and wit.  Just listen to a few examples of what I mean:
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09/13/09 1:26 PM

For Larry Gelbart

It was my privilege at the beginning of my career to work with some of the great comedy writers of the World War II generation.  My father first and foremost, of course --- his ghost would never forgive me for not putting him at the head of the list --- but also names like Mort Lachman, Norman Lear, Milt Josefsberg, Mel Tolkin and Larry Rhine, Bob Carroll and Madeleine Pugh, Bob Schiller and Bob Weiskopf.  These were legendary figures to me, present at the creation of radio and television comedy, but they were also generous mentors, patient, supportive (if also occasionally Oedipally competitive), and most of all, wonderfully, effortlessly funny.  I learned a lot from all of them.  Still, despite the respect I felt for their craft and their experience and their irreverence and their shared lore, I can't say I felt daunted or intimidated by them.  This may have been nothing more than callow cockiness on my part, but they impressed me without really scaring me.
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09/02/09 1:49 PM

The Unbearable Stupidity of Authoritarianism

iran elections.jpgThis morning, reading this, I was struck all over again by how extraordinarily maladroit autocrats usually are.  In the last few months, we've witnessed elections in Zimbabwe, Iran, and now Afghanistan, and in each case the heavy-handedness on display has been staggering.  Can't these people at least show a little finesse when they're practicing ballot-box fraud?  If they weren't so eager to prove themselves beloved by their people, if they were only willing to commit their thefts with a marginally lighter touch, the evidence against them wouldn't be so cut-and-dried, and their defenders wouldn't be forced to look so much like poltroons and toadies and fools.

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08/28/09 4:48 PM

In Memoriam, EMK

A British magazine, Prospect, asked me to post some thoughts about the late senator on their blog site.  My entry can be found here

08/20/09 5:25 PM

Lockerbie Compassion

2875610216_b7aaae31f7.jpgI don't support capital punishment. I've gone back and forth on this issue in my own mind over the years, and my primary objections now do not rest on purely moral grounds; I can accept in the abstract, however uncomfortably, that some acts may be sufficiently heinous to justify ending the perpetrator's life. But despite that, the racial and class discrepancies in the way the death sentence is applied are troubling, and perhaps even more troubling, the recent emergence of DNA testing, and the resultant exculpation of so many people who turn out to have been wrongly convicted, suggest that the justice system -- not just our justice system, but any justice system -- is so inherently imperfect that ultimate, irreversible punishments are a mistake.

Which means I don't take issue with Lockerbie terrorist Abdel Basset Ali al-Megrahi's having received a sentence of life imprisonment for his crime. That said, I'm still one bleeding heart liberal who finds Scottish Justice Minister Kenny MacAskill's decision to release the convicted Libyan terrorist on compassionate grounds appalling and indefensible.

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08/11/09 6:22 AM

Political Sex Scandals

       "I have known eleven Prime Ministers," William Gladstone is reputed to have said, "and seven of them were adulterers."  To bring this discussion closer to home, we can also cite T. H. White, who wrote that in his long career covering presidential elections, only three of the candidates he'd observed had been faithful to their wives.  Bear in mind that this observation wasn't restricted to actual nominees;  it encompassed all viable candidates of both parties during their respective primary seasons.  (And yes, White named the virtuous ones.  Figuring out who they are is too good a parlor game for me to identify them now;  I'll append the names at the end of the entry.  If you want to guess, don't peek*.)
       Clearly, sexual probity and political ambition make, so to speak, strange bedfellows. Read More
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