Goal Met, Barely

I went to the National Galler of Art to see the Jasper Johns exhibit on its last day (it has been open since January). Very glad I did. Never having been a Johns fan, I was surprised. His pieces look much nicer in person than in reproductions. They look much better in large numbers, than singly. The exhibit only covered ten years of his career, from 1955 (when he was 25) to 1965. Targets (in fact, Target the store was the main corporate sponsor), Red-Yellow-Blue, Numbers, were the main subject matter. The colors, the proportions, the thought which went into each piece, and the complexity of the materials used, were very apparent.

(The goal, met barely, is to make sure that I see all major exhibitions in town)

Afterwords, dinner at Le Chat Noir, French restaurant on Wisconsin and Emery. Did not know what to expect. Very nice.

Quick Film News (1 cent)

We saw our final two films at the DC International Filmfest, "Hula Girls" and "My Mexican Shiva".

"Hula Girls" is the story of the 1965 closing of the Joban Coal Mine in Iwaki, and the conflict and depression which accompanied it. A group of city boosters decided to create a tourist destination, a Hawaiian theme park and to train local teenagers to be Hawaiian dancers. It is based on a true story, and deals primarily with emotions all around. Today, over 40 years later the theme park is going strong, and the performances continue daily.

In the movie, Iwaki seemed very remote, terribly ugly and overall a horrible place to be. Wheter this is an accurate portrayal, I do not know, but today it is a city of about 350,000, with museums, beaches, hotels, restaurants and, of course, the Hawaiian Center.

The movie has won some awards, but I found it a bit tedious. Three stars.

"My Mexican Shiva" on the other hand is a very clever and enjoyable movie. I hope it is shown again in Washington; I think large numbers of locals would enjoy it. Very basically, the father/grandfather falls dead of a heart attack at a reunion of his Yiddish Language Theater Company, and shiva occurs involving his largely estranged, and highly disfunctional family. His neurotic daughter, ready the fly off the hook at any moment, controlled if at all only by her stable husband. His adolescent son who is chronologically about 50. The son's ex-wife, a New Ager, living in Arizona. Their son, on the lam from a drug charge, who has become a ba'al tshuvah in Jerusalem, but is arrested by the Mexico City police on day two of the shiva. The daughters, two children, a son (with wife and baby) and single daughter living in New York. Many elegant old members of the Mexico City Ashkenazic commmunity. A Chaverman who runs the shiva. Two not quiet real orthodox rabbis, who are looking at the entire affair and judging the deceased. And many others, not the least of whom belong to a Mariachi Band. Five stars.

I Did Not Care For It At All ($1.26)

The Saul Steinberg exhibit at the Museum of American Art. At all.

High Heel Shoes and Low Hanging Earrings

We went back to the DC International Film Festival tonight to see two more films. The first, "Armenia" (or in the original French "Voyage en Armenie") is the story of an older man with a heart condition who has spent most of his adult life in Marseilles, but rather than face an operation decides to go back to Armenia. His physician-daughter follows him there, and spends the movie searching for him to bring him back to France for his surgery only to find out that she is more Armenian that she ever knew.

The visuals are terrific. You get a great feeling for various aspects of the country (assuming that the terrific visuals are indicative of the country as a whole). The plot, on the other hand, while is has its moments, is a bit contrived and convoluted, as the whole of the country seems to glom on to this French speaking physician (who trapses around the rocks and railroad tracks wearing four inch spike heels), causing her to meet more people and have more adventures in six days than is humanly conceivable. She even gets to shoot two heavies who were manhandling her manicurist and hairstylist, who was also dealing in illegal medications and dancing nude in a nightclub. Did I like it? I have no idea. The combination of the plot and the scenery created such an odd mix than I have no idea if I was seeing a good travelogue or a mediocre adventure yarn, or an unusual finding of one's identity.

The second movie, "The Sound of Soul" was a disappointment. Sacred music recorded at the Fez Festival of Sacred Music. Some of the music was pleasant; some was jarring. The narrations were run of the mill; and the comments of World Bank and WTO officials seemed simply out of place. The portrait of Fez was interesting, but I got a better feel for Armenia. It just was not special. But I did get to watch the low hanging earings of all of the female performers (except for those in complete head wrappings).

It Makes You Want to Cry

I just read the headlines (and a few of the articles) in the first DC version of The Onion. You know, an article on Earth Day ("Cheney Celebrates Earth Day by Breathing Oxygen"), and on Radio Shack ("Even CEO Can't Figure Out How Radio Shack Still in Business"), and on gender issues ("Female Boss Walking Around Like She Owns the Place").

Enough, I said (my coffee getting cold), I want some hard news before I start my workday. So I turned on my computer, and went to my homepage Drudge Report to see what was new in the world. "India Court Orders Gere's Arrest for Obscene Kiss", "Hugh Grant Arrested Over Baked Beans Attack", and "Man Accused of Dental Work in Garage".

I kid you not. (For you oldtimes, that is paar for the course.)

Much to Report and Where to Start? (27 cents)

Not sure why I have not been reporting as we go along, but I haven't been. So here goes...

1. A weird ad in this month's Smithsonian Magazine by Travel Texas, a Texas tourism promotion site, starts out with: "There's more art in Texas than in the Louvre." Huh?

2. The quickie restaurant reviews:

Dinner upstairs at Bistrot Lepic, still one of our favorites. I had, for the first time, cassoulet, which seemed to have three kinds of meat, carrots and a large number of white beans, and was quite the thing for a chilly, rainy spring night. Our waiter was French (and just passing through on his way to start is career as a musician in Los Angeles, "but don't tell my boss") and his English needs some improvement. My wife ordered "flounder" and got "foie gras". I should have been suspicous when she asked him what wine he would recommend with the flounder, and he said "but, of course, champagne". She tells me, as it turns out, that champagne and flounder make a good combination.

It's been a long time since we ate at Cafe Le Ruche in Georgetown, but our lunch on the outside patio away from the hubbub was perfect. My wife's salad was filled with all sorts of things, and I had French fish soup (a red soup with, I think, trout, no seafood) and an appetizer plate of lamb sausages, called merguez, which are eaten in France but come from North Africa. Fairly spicy with some sort of chili sauce built in to the mix.

We had brunch at Cafe Ole, a "Mediterranean" (read north African/Turkish) restaurant on Wisconsin Avenue, near the FannieMae headquarters. Also out on the patio, and also quite good. Their brunch menu is a full menu, not only eggs, and the main style of service is mezes, small servings, although two (they recommend two to three) was more than enough. My two were a baba ganoush and a Moroccan chicken stew.

Then there was lunch at Kinkeads, another old reliable, but a bit pricy for noon time. We went with a friend; he had fish and chips. My wife had salmon and what she describes as a perfect avocado salsa; I had a arugula and beet salad, and three kinds of cheeses (none of which I could identify if I passed them on the street), all of which was more than tasty.

Dinner at Frascati in Bethesda, which we enjoyed the last time, was a real bust. Don't think we will go back again. Lunch at the Austin Grill in Bethesda equally lacking (Austin Grill has closed in Glover Park; is the entire chain in trouble?). And dinner at Jandera, an Thai restaurant also near FannieMae, was very ordinary.

Carryout from Jyoti, the Indian restaurant in Adams Morgan, was good as always.

Conclusion: we eat out too much.

3. Movie Reviews.

We saw two movies at the DC International Film Festival last Saturday night. We loved the first, an Argentinian/Spanish movie called "The Education of Fairies", set in Catalan outside of Barcelona, about a woman, her young son, a man, and another woman, who fit the definition of a fairy. The story line was (if a little obvious at times) a good one, the acting (particularly, but not only, the young boy) was extraordinary, and the visuals could not have been better. A strong recommendation if it comes back. The second movie, "Just Sex and Nothing Else" is Hungarian and is a comedy based on a Hungarian dramaturg who is in her mid-30s and giving up on love. But she wants a baby, so is looking for just sex and nothing else. Well, things don't turn out quite as she plans, and that is OK, but the movie, to me (but not to the audience it appeared) was a bit too dark and the funny pieces were not really funny.

4. Books.

For one thing, there was the Stone Ridge Books Sale, where I bought too much for a change, especially as it followed by only one week the Arlington Library sale.

But I read a couple of books, as well. First, a short novel by English writer Julian Barnes called "The Porcupine", which tells the story of a post-Communist eastern European country and the trial (or is it a show-trial) of its former leader. The prosecutor is the son of one of the leader's cohorts, and owes his job to the now defendant, who pulled strings to give him the best of the best. Moral ambiguity, is that the point? I am not sure. The advantage of the book is that it is short.

I also ready Amos Elon's "Flight to Egypt", which he wrote in the late 1970s. Following Sadat's trip to Jerusalem, Elon accompanied Begin to Israel, and became the first Israeli journalist to spend time traveling the country and assessing its modd. It would have been interesting to have read the book when it first came out; it is equally interesting today, because although the mood may have changed for the worst, the issues are the same, and the history which comes out through interviews with leaders in all facets of Egyptian life provides a very good backdrop.

4. The events.

There are several to report.

First, Professor Fred Lazin of Ben Gurion University, head of their politics and government department, gave a talk to BGU supporters about the current political situation in Israel. Second, we heard a speech by Haaretz journalist Tom Segev about the year 1967, and what it has meant for Israel (this being the year of the Six Day War and the start of the occupation, and the year of the creation of many myths0. Third, we went to a full day colloquium where twelve academics from the US, Israel and Canada spoke about various things relating to the future of Zionism and its relationship to the state of Israel. Many interesting thoughts were developed, although the presenations were uneven, and the day could have been thought out a little better by the organizers. If I have time, I will provide more details later.

On Sunday, Adas Israel's yearly Guardian of the Righteous commemoration, where a gentile who sheltered, protected or saved Jews during the Holocaust is honored. This year's honoree is Heinz Drossel, who at 90 or so could not make the flight to DC form Germany. His story is a very interesting one. He never joined the Nazi party but was an office in the German army. On several occasions, he disobeyed orders. Such as when he was asked to escort certain Russian prisoners to where he knew they would be executed, he instead told them to run.

On leave in Berlin in 1942, he saw a young woman about to jump into the River Spree. He talked her out of it, learned she was Jewish, told her he would find places for her to hide, and did. In 1946, he married her.

One of the individuals saved by Drossel spoke; he is the father of a friend. He currently lives in Michigan. His family was living in the same village as Drossel's parents, under false papers. When it appeared that their identity had been discovered, he went to Drossel, his friend, and told him the story. Drossel and his parents took care of them.

Finally, Saturday we went on a 90 minutes walking tour of the portion of Georgetwon formerly known as Herring Hill. It is between 29th and Rose Park, north of M Street. This is the traditionally black section of Georgetown and the history of the Georgetown African-American community was the focus of the walk. It was fascinating. Between the 1830s and 1940s, Georgetown was about 1/3 African American. Starting as slaves, sold at auction at Wisconsin and O, they became laborers and real estate investors, doctors and wharf workers. And the created several churches that still stand. They were dispossessed by gentrification, except for a few families, who can trace their ancestry back several generations.

Zhukov (ten cents)

William Spahr has published a biography, more or less, of Marshall Georgii Konstantinovich Zhukov. I say more or less, because his sources were very limited and most of what he wrote was based on Zhukov's own memoirs, which are suspect because they were written in the Soviet Union and subject to censorship and control.

Yet enough of the story comes out to give a good idea of Zhukov's triumphs during World War II and the immediate post-war period, his brief reign as Minister of Defense, and his discreditation and internal exile.

He was a very smart military leader, whose contribution to the eventual Russian defeat of the German invasion was immeasurable. He was brave and not afraid to speak up even to Stalin in the midst of the purges. He was crafty enough to stay alive during all of the Soviet times of trouble. He was ruthless enough to lead his commands in large part by fear. And he was bright enough to write very sophiticated memoirs of the war years.

The book brought back again to my mind the MILLIONS of Soviet soldiers and civilians who died during WW II. It showed me something that I did not know at all, which is that Stalin was the ultimate military decision maker, as he was the ultimate decision maker in all fields. And that he made his decisions based on reports brought to him and discussed with him, and wa shimself without military training.

Zhukov was a very powerful figure. This was both his strength and the cause of his downfall. Party leaders feared him as they feared anyone with sufficient charisma and visibility to become more powerful than they.

I read the entire book today, which means I skimmed over a lot of material, including detailed military campaign data. I cannot say that the book left me totally satisfied, mainly because I don't think its sources were totally satisfactory. But to remind me, and teach me, about the Soviet experience during the war, it is clearly worth reading through.

The Three State Solution

I have decided that the two-state solution is not going to resolve the Israeli-Palestinean problem.

So let me tell you about the three state solution.

There will be three states, Israel, East Palestine, and West Palestine (as to names, the last two are placeholders; I do not know what the eventual names will be.

East Palestine will consist of the current West Bank, subject to final boundaries. It will presumably be controlled by Fatah and may or may not eventually combine with Jordan.

West Palestine is Gaza. It will presumably be controlled by Hamas.

The rationale: first, there is less commonality between West Bank and Gaza than imagined. They have not been part of the same polity since the end of the Ottoman Empire. They presumably have little family connections. They certainly have been isolated from each other since the formation of the state of Israel. They have political differences, and different economic considerations. The existence of a single Palestinean state separated by Israel will create continual problems and never permit the development of a truly autonomous Palestine.

Finally, as it is now 40 years since the 1967 war and the start of thinking about the two state solution, it is time to give it up as hopelesss. No political entity has a 40 year gestation period does it? Particularly no entity has spent 40 years in the desert.

Or am I forgetting something?

Perhaps Not the Rehoboth You Know

I picked up Alexs Pate's novel, "West of Rehoboth", because its title attracted me, and because I saw it was set in West Rehoboth, an African American neighborhood just west of downtown Rehoboth Beach DE.

It is a relatively short novel that I read in two sessions, Sunday and Monday. It was touch and go as to whether I would pick it up again on Monday, because I wasn't enjoying it. Today, looking at 14 customer reviews on Amazon.com, I see I was not the only one who thought that the book started out slowly, but improved considerably.

Not that the book is perfect, but largely because of the development of the character of Uncle Rufus (name a little to close to Uncle Remus?), I would recommend it highly.

It is a coming of age story. Twelve year old, chubby African American Edward Massey is a bookworm and would-be detective. His mother, every summer, takes him from their North Philly home to stay with relatives on the Delaware Coast. Each year, he notes a strange man, Uncle Rufus, appearing and disappearing from a shack behind his aunt's house. No one talks to him and no one talks about him.

Rufus is a drunk, he is homeless, he is mentally unbalanced. But who is he really? After shooing Edward away a number of times, circumstances develop where Rufus decides to "educate" the boy and tell him his story.

No one has had all the bad luck that Rufus has had. He is in love with Edward's aunt, always has been and it appears always will be. He is a former crab fisher, who has a hard time controlling his temper and keeping a job, but he has ambition. He is not a big guy; whenever he gets in a scrape, he comes out the loser. Finally, it all gets to him, he challenges one of the West Rehoboth bullies, he is knocked back, but pulls out a knife and kills his adversary. He had had too much to drink.

He had to leave town and the woman of his dreams. He joins the Merchant Marine, and travels the world for five years. He saves his money (while all his fellows are chasing wine and woman), only to have it stolen by a man he thought his friend. He hikes back to Rehoboth, but must stay out of sight; he is still a wanted man.

Time passes; he mind deteriorates.

A sad, sad story. But for Edward, living a sheltered and protected life, it is eye opening. An important part of leaving his childhood behind and becoming a man.

Is Edward really Alexs Pate? I would think so. Was there an Uncle Rufus?

"In the Storm of the Eye"

"In the Storm of the Eye" is the name of the relatively short memoir of Bill Leonard, long time CBS radio and tv broadcast journalist and executive, and one time president of CBS News. The books got off to a very strong start, with the story of Leonard, having become president in 1978, being introduced to his new responsibilities by CBS news star Walter Cronkite telling him he wanted to retire. The three replacement candidates were Roger Mudd (who appeared to have the inside track), Charles Kuralt (a little too folksy) and Dan Rather (young and inexperienced, but promising). Of course, Rather was hired, and the story of the decision making and of the personalities of those involved was interesting.

There was nothing in the book that was either boring or offensive, but I guess I didn't really need to read about all of the changes over the years of CBS executives. The book was losing my interest until there was a discussion of some of the more influential specials, documentaries, and 60 Minutes pieces, some of which I remembered. Also, of interest were the discriptions of the very early days of television, when no one really knew if it had a future, or not.

He described a number of CBS news personalities, most of whom he seemed to have gotten along with well. But, something was missing. Where was Daniel Schorr (whom as you know we just saw ten days ago talk of his experiences, including the 25 years he spent at CBS). And, it is not that Schorr's time was without drama. Remember the Nixon enemies list. And there were other instances where Schorr 'protected his sources' in spite of Congressional pressure to reveal them.

Perhaps there is another story here. I wish I had read the book before the evening with Schorr. I would have had something to ask him in the q and a period.

"From the Shadows"

"From the Shadows" is the name of the memoirs of Robert M. Gates, our current Secretary of Defense. It was published in 1996, three years after the end of his two year term as Director of the CIA. A book that has not been widely read, it is fascinating on several levels.

Gates was the first CIA Director to grow up in the CIA. Recruited out of graduate school at Indiana University, he spent his entire career (until 1993)at either the CIA or in the White House with the National Security Council.

This makes for fascinating inside history, and insight. By and large, Gates presents himself as a practical, well-meaning middle of the roader. And as an ultimate professional.

He rose quickly in the organization, and was asked to work for the NSC in the Ford administration. National Security Advisor Brzezinski asked him stay on into the first Carter years. He has worked with every president since Johnson and every CIA director since Colby.

What does he think of the presidents with whom he worked closely? Nixon was a very good president, when his paranoia did not get in the way. Ford, he liked. Carter has gotten a bad rap; his policies set the standard for Reagan. Reagan had vision and purpose, but began to lose it mentally early into his second term. George H.W. Bush, he loved.

What about the CIA itself? Clearly bureaucratic. A lot of turf protection. A tremendous amout of rivalry. Some politics (depending on the director) in finalizing analytic pieces. Soviet moles (John Walker, Ames Aldrich).

Foreign policy in the government? Not bureaucratic at the highest level, but continual disagreements (until Bush I) between State, Defense, CIA, and the NSC. At time, particularly when Schultz was at State, Weinberger at Defense, and Casey at the CIA, it was vicious. Schultz being the "let's negotiate" guy, and Weinberger and Casey being the "we should not talk to them" types. More than you can imagine.

The focus was always on the USSR (and sometimes on its puppet in the Caribbean). CIA directors all had their own approaches. The most extreme case was, of course, Bill Casey, who wanted to use resources to support the Contras, fighting the Sandinistas in Nicaragua. Congress prohibits the funding, so Casey (legal opinion in hand) decides that non-government and foreign governmental sources should be encouraged. But he did not want the CIA involved, which is how the White House and Oliver North got started.

At the same time, there was a widespread feeling that Iran should be given the right to buy some advanced weaponry. This today may seem weird, but at the time, there were a number of reasons for this. First, there was the thought that it would strengthen moderates in the government. Second, it would counter the Soviet strength in Afghanistan. Third, it would help the release of some hostages in Lebanon (even then through Hezbollah).

What the CIA may not have known, is that North and others used funds raised through the sale of arms to Iran in order to support the Contras.

It is not perfectly clear how much the CIA actually knew about Iran/Contra. When Bill Casey was suddenly taken ill with a brain tumor and died shortly after, Reagan nominated Gates to take his place as CIA director. His nomination did not last very long, because of Iran/Contra. Gates, who claims he knew nothing, was in a terrible position: if he knew about Iran/Contra, he was involved in violating the law; if he did not, what value is the CIA anyway?

This last question is a good one. There is so much analysis going on, but what good does it do? On a direct basis, it is hard to say. And, with the spy scandals, maybe we lose more than we gain? But perhaps just the idea of a CIA is helpful, if not its activities. The fact appears to be that there is no major gain that can be ascribed either to CIA analysis or operations.

Finally, the book chronicles the end of the Soviet Union, the death of Brezhnev, the temporizing of Andopov and Chernenko, the rise of Gorbachev, the maturation of Yeltsin. And their ultimate failures.

The CIA (but along with others) predicted (with some trepidation)that the Soviet Union was in an untenable economic crisis, and had no way out. This makes for some inevitability, but, to Gates, Gorbachev, for all of his good qualities, was hopelessly naive, and that this naivete helped bring about the destruction of the USSR. He also gives credit to Bush, for his personality in treating the Soviet reformers on a one-to-one basis, to Reagan for, in effect, keeping his eye on the prize, and surprisingly, Jimmy Carter for his human rights campaign, which he feels set the stage for everything that happened to breakdown Communist control in Eastern Europe.

This is one of the most surprising elements of the book, his treatment of Jimmy Carter. He was not close to Carter, and maintains that Carter's communication skills within the White House was poor at best, but he thinks that Carter's foreign policy was quite effective (and that Carter's defense cuts were, with one exception, proper cuts related to outmoded programs), and that the Reagan White House built on the Carter program. That there was complete continuity between the two administrations.

Having been forced to withdraw as CIA director/nominee in the 1980s, he was renominated by Bush in 1991, received Senate support, and served for two years.

In 1993, for the first time, he found himself outside of government, winding up with quite a good position: president of Texas A & M, where he by all accounts did an outstanding job. Bush II called him back to serve as Secretary of Defense after Don Rumsfeld resigned. But all of this will have to await the next book.

Don Ho Dies in Hawaii

I saw in the paper this morning that Hawaiian singing legend Don Ho died at age 76 of heart failure. Too bad, becaue Ho was the rare example of one singer who created/preserved a specific genre, and whose career never seemed to falter.

But we need to make some things clear.

Don may have been a Ho, but he was not nappy haired.

Imus may be a Don, but he is not a Ho.

You can quote me on this.

One More Blog About Don Imus (Who Needs It?) (1 cent)

I must admit to have been an occasional Don Imus watcher. A few years ago, I was fairly regular. Why is this? Because he was, I thought, entertaining and charismatic, and could be counted on for interesting guests. As to his crude and cruel 'humor', I generally cringed. I didn't really overlook it, but I didn't let it stop my enjoyment of the show. And, perhaps in the sense that it was 'live' and 'spontaneous', it added something. And I did wonder why no one washed his mouth out with soap.

Imus had two sidekicks on the show. One, Charles McCord, did the news and played it fairly straight. I always have liked him. The other, Bernard McGuirk (McJerk?) was the opposite; he was the crudest of the crude, the instigator of all things bad on the show. He was also the producer of the show.

Now, I don't know the working relationship between the members of this longstanding trio, and particularly, I don't know, as between Imus and McJerk, which one came up with the most outlandish lines or skits. I don't really care.

Enough has been reported about all the crude remarks Imus has made over the years, and how the audiences, the sponsors, and the networks tolerated (welcomed?) them. Was it money only? Was it enjoyment? Was it tacit approval? (By one theory, Imus was willing to say what a lot of people would think, but were not in a position to say.) Again, I don't know.

I have, however, long been intrigued about his guests, and their willingness to participate actively in the show, particularly since so many of the guests were so prominent politically, and who worked hard to maintain a level of politician morality that was so different from the Imus morality. Think Joe Lieberman. Think John McCain. Think John Kerry.

Then there were the clergymen, Rabbi Mark Geller and Father Tom Hartman. What is their excuse?

As to the NBC journalists, Tim Russert and David Gregory and the others, well I thought that business was business, and they were on to promote the networks. But then there were the print journalists who called in as well. What were they thinking?

Many people want to expand this discussion. They want to take on the rap industry (that is probably a good thing). They want to take on the conservative talk show hosts (it is about time someone did). They want to take on Bill Maher (I think he is pretty outrageous). They want to take on Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson (that is not going a little too far; that is going way too far). But where are the limits on this type of talk? And on whom should the limits be placed? And should they be legal limits (as they are with obscenities), or simply societal acceptance limits (assuming there is such a thing in such a diverse society). These are the questions that need to be addressed.

Of course, it is not the words themselves that are problems (although 'ho'' is not a word), but the use of the words and the identity and intent of the speaker. Can Jews tell jokes on Jews, and blacks make fun of blacks, while neither should put down the other? Perhaps, although this in many ways goes against the grain, and certainly against the American premise that everyone should be treated and considered equally. Once, I was in a group of black and Jewish professionals, and one of the Jewish members set to one of the black members: "Help me out here, what do you want me to call you? Black? Or African American?". The honest answer came back: "Whichever one you call me, I want you to call me the other one." This tension will always exist.

Well, what about Imus' charitable activity, which seems to be quite extensive, with his camp for children with cancer, his raising funds for all sorts of health facilities and programs, and his wife's work making housekeeping green? You can't excuse a murderer because he was good to his mother. You don't excuse Mussolini because he made the trains run on time. I think the same goes for Imus. His charitable work is terrific and you can only hope he keeps it up.

I think he has been properly booted, and hope he does not return to the airwaves. As Imus would say (were he not Imus): This scraggly, turkey headed, scarecrow of a weasel got just what he deserved.

OK, Not So Weird (1 cent)

After talking to a number of people about my mysterious open window syndrome, one of them said to me (joking, I think) "maybe your remote does more than you think". It got me thinking and lo and behold this is the answer. If you keep holding down the open door button, it becomes an open window button. Whew!

A Little Too Weird

6:45 a.m. get in my car in my driveway and take the short drive to the gym.
6:50 a.m. park car on Yuma Street
7:55 a.m. walk from gym to car, open door with remote key control, sit in car and turn on motor.
7:56 a.m. notice that driver side window is completely open. do not remember opening window, but think I must have done so. close window.
7:57 a.m. see that passenger side window is also open. clearly do not remember opening both windows, but think I must have done so. close window.
7:58 a.m. leave parking space, decide to pick up some bagels, take short drive and park on Livingston Street, noticing, while I am driving, that it feels cool (it is cool outside, but should not feel that cool in the car)
8:05 a.m. park car on Livingston Street, still feeling cool, look up and see that the skylight is completely open. to open skylight, you must reach to front ceiling, and pull and hold a switch. I know I did not do that. I also know that nothing was open over night, as it rained hard, and the insides of the car were completely dry.

I have no answer. Does this mean that there is a God? And that He has nothing better to do?

Brats

"Brats" is a 2005 Czech movie which we saw tonight at the Avalon (one Wednesday each month, another award winning Czech film). We enjoyed it.

A couple has trouble having children, and adopts two boys, both of gypsy parentage. Then they have one of their own. The kids are hard to handle--the adopted boys have a hard time focusing and an easy time getting into trouble. The younger son has a serious asthma condition. They move from Prague to an exurban village for the fresh air, and hopefully for good neighbors (the Prague neighbors did not take to the gypsy boys).

It does not work out. The kids have trouble adjusting. The parents (and especially the mother) are isolated and overstressed. And one man in particular is out to get the kids, falsely accusing them of vandalism and calling them 'black bastards'.

Watching all of the bickering between the kids and between the parents, combined with the youngest boy's medical condition, and the problems with the neighbors, and the continual bullying and ribbing between all of the children made me very nervous. In addition, some weird camera work (a lot of scenes from above, a lot of face focusing, and a lot of blurred images)are disturbing.

Nevertheless, the movie is enjoyable, draws you in and keeps you going. I'd recommend it.

By the way, the boys are brats. But the Czech title of the film is "Smradi", which is translated as "smell" or "stench". This would be an ambiguous title. What stinks? Is it the gypsy kids, as the bigots think? Or is it the bigots? Or is it everything in the Czech Republic.

Why did they translate the title into English as "Brats". On the one hand, the boys are all brats, but "brats" is a very unsympathetic word, and the kids are very definitely meant to be objects of sympathy. But the three boys are also, of course, brothers, and the Czech word for "brothers" is "bratri". So the English title also has multiple meanings, but is more in the nature of a double entendre than it is ambiguous in the way Smradi is.

Tricks of Memory

I parked my car in the garage and entered the building's elevator lobby this morning, where a man in a Nationals' cap and warm up jacket was already waiting. He was probably about 50. I asked him if he was on the team.

On the way up, we and a few other Washingtonians lamented the Nationals, Caps, Redskins and Wizards.

Then, I got thinking. Forty years ago, a book was published called "Letters To and From Groucho Marx", real letters if I recall that Groucho sent (and the responses he received).

One, to Yankee Joe Dimaggio went something like: "Saw you late last night at Toots Shor's restaurant in New York. You were dressed in slacks, a sport jacket and tie. I was shocked. What would you have done if a ball game had broken out?"

My elevator companion was ready for action.

But what does all this say about memory. Let's say I read the Groucho book when it came out, or within a few years. 35-40 years ago. Why is it that I remember this letter, and nothing else at all?

Or, better still, although I remember this letter, do you think it is really in the book?

Memory.

What are the Seven Lively Arts Anyway ? (6 cents)

I really don't know. But I assume that theater and music are two of them.

Today, the last day of Passover, I went to church twice. At noon, I went to the Church of the Epiphany for its Tuesday noontime concert, and saw three Levine School faculty members (floutist Rebecca Collaros, pianist Grace McFarlane and cellist, Vasily Popov) perform flawlessly. A treat.

Interestingly, their program, entitled "A World-Wind Affair with Strings Attached" was comprised of pieces with which I had no familiarity whatsoever. The only piece that was vaguely familiar was Chopin's Barcarolle, and I know I could not have identified it by listening.

I thought that the selections were mixed; this was the only downside. But I did hear something that I don't believe I had ever heard before, and would like to hear much more. It is called "Kaleidoscope" by Hungarian composer Miklos Rozsa (1907-1995. I do not recognize the name. It is for flute, piccolo and piano, and contains a number of short rhythmic selections: march, musette, burlesque. You get the idea.

I enjoyed the Chopin (a lot of notes in that piece), and Debussy's Syrinx, a short flute solo. Madrigal by French composer Philippe Gaubert (1879-1941), another unknown to me, left me cold (i.e., didn't like it and didn't dislike it; the moment it was over, it slipped from my memory). The final piece, for three instruments, was Bohuslav Martinu's Trio for flute, cello and piano, which I thought the performers played about as well as it can be played. And I tried and tried to like it, and I just didn't. OK, so I should hear this again, too, and see if it was just its novelty that made it miss the mark with me.

This evening, we went to a first staged reading of a play called "The Quilt", written by Jason Ford, the son-in-law of friends. We did not know what to expect. It was part of a series of readings produced by the Playwright's Forum, and was held at St. John's Church in Bethesda.

It was quite good, and the post-reading discussion about good and weak points was also very interesting. The story line (in brief, and without giving away too much) is about a family who inherited a quilt which is sacred to a cult-like religious group. The cult members thought that the quilt had been lost and when they discovered its existence, they wanted it back. How they got it back, how the family was inevitably step by step roped into relationships with cult members, how tragedy struck, and how it ended. This is the play.

Having seen a number of readings over the past few years, this one ranks very high. Of course, whether it will ever again see the light of day, and how many drafts and re-drafts it will go through, is yet to be determined.

Ali Alawi at Politics and Prose

Ali Alawi spoke about his new book on occupied Iraq. Allawi left Iraq in exile in the early 1970s with his family. He went to England, studied and then taught at Oxford and became an investment banker. He went back to Baghdad, became Finance Minister and Defense Minister. He got disgusted; he got angry. He wrote this book.

The book has been very well received.

It was pretty depressing. To sum it up: things were bad, people were killed, then there was the invasion, then we had hope, then we screwed it up (we = everyone involved), now things are really tough, but maybe we can still turn it around. But our window is very small. He believes the Saddam killed hundreds of thousands of Kurds and of Shiites, and that there have been another several hundred thousand who have died as a result of the invasion and occupation. Then there are a couple of million refugees, mainly in Syria and Jordan. The midddle class is gone. The Shiites and the Kurds are allied. The Sunnis are in trouble. If America gets out without leaving a structure, it will get worse. If they stay, it will get worse.

He believe that, with the advent of the Bush II administration, academics who had been peripheral became core, and they developed this plan for the middle east that had nothing to do with the middle east.

There was no happy ending.

Imus, Youmus Go!

The Weekend (one cent)

The weekend is about to be over. It is going to end with our study group meeting at our house to discuss the growing trend of recognizing Sephardic Passover culinary traditions in Ashenazic homes. That is, traditionally Ashkenazic (today, basically Europeans and their descendants) keep stricter Passover rules, not eating certain foods eaten by those who define themselves as Eastern or Sephardic (Iraqi, North African, Arab, etc.). The Sephardim eat rice, beans and legumes; the Ashkenazim do not. But now that geogrpahy is losing its importance and communities (particularly in Israel, but to an extent here today as well) are mixing, what should be the tradition in the future? (Yes, these are the discussions that make up religious life, everywhere. Except perhaps for Unitarians)

Last night, we were disappointed when we went to see The Hoax, the movie with Richard Gere and Alfred Molina about Clifford Irving's book, The Autobiography of Howard Hughes, which turned out to be a forgery and was pulled off the press. Irving and his cohort Richard Suskind each spent time in jail, as did Irving's then-wife. This all took place in the 1970s.

The story is a good story and could have been told much more intelligently that it was, I felt. I thought Gere did a good job (considering the way the movie was put together), Molina not so good. The story was told half as reality, and half as Irving's fantasies, and the mix did not mix.

Before the show, we went to the last game of the Caps miserable season, where they lost to top NHL team, the Buffalo Sabres. The game was actually pretty good, and the Verizon center was sold out (of course, a lot of Sabre fans were there). The Caps promise that they will be better this summer. I hope so. But then again, hockey is not played in the summer.

And the Nats have now lost 6 of their first 7, even though they are getting a lot of hits, and very good relief pitching. Interestingly, their problems seem to parallel that of the caps.

Offense:
Nats good
Caps good

Offense When it Counts:

Nats bad
Caps bad

Goalie/Relievers

Nats good
Caps good

General Defense/Starting pitchers

Nats bad
Caps bad

We will see how the season goes, but I don't think it will be pretty.

A short blog about rape and the Washington Post (5 cents)

On page B-1 of today's Post (carried over to page B-2) is an article entitled "Comments on Rape Law Elicit Outrage". A long term Maryland delegate from Prince George's County, Joseph F. Vallario, Jr. , quoted a 17th century English jurist, Sir Matthew Hale, saying in effect that women who were not raped could claim that they were. The context was the discussion of proposed legislation denying parental rights to rapist fathers.

Outrage resulted. Someone googled Hale and discovered the presumed exact quote: "Rape is an accusation easily to be made, hard to be proved, and harder yet to be defended by the party accused". Although no one seems to be calling Vallario evil, many were appaled by the reference.

I am always concerned about the requirements of political correctness, particularly since the quotation does not seem out of line to me; rather, it appears to state a truism.

The article had another surprising reference: in 1987 Virginia apparently passed a law, according to the article, "prohibiting judges from instructing juries to be "skeptical of rape claims". That in itself seems a little weird.

So, OK, no one is in favor of rape, and I think it makes sense that a rapist should not have paternity rights. But (particularly where there has been no criminal conviction) how do you know if a rape occurred.

In fact, on the same page, there was an article (by chance it seems) about a Naval Academy midshipman accused of raping a fellow student. The midshipman's defense is that the sex was consensual. The case is ongoing. Was there a rape? Without some overriding physical evidence, how would you ever know?

A Great Miracle Happened Here

The Capitals and the Nationals won on the same day.

Elijah in the Haggadah (12 cents)

Between the third cup of wine, the tradition is to open the door for Elijah. People remember doing this as long as they remember attending seders. In this country, in Israel, in Europe.

But it isn't in the Haggadah.

There is a mystery here that must be unraveled.

The Plague Continues (12 cents)

By my count, you pass 848 newspaper vending boxes on Connecticut Avenue between Davenport St. and K St.

This and That (2 cents)

1. The New York Times reports that the Baltimore Orioles will have their tenth straight losing season this year, and that that has not happened since they were the St. Louis Browns. Ha!

Of course, the Nationals will have their own problems, won't they? Their five starting pitchers, for example, won a total of (that is all of them added together) two games in the majors last year!

And the Nationals have let Alfonso Soriano and Jose Vidro go. They must be modeling after the Capitals who, after last night's loss, have now lost their last five hundred games, or something like that. Since they traded Dainius Zubrus for very little and then gave away Jamie Heward, what has their record been? Hint: I don't think that they have won more than the Nationals' pitchers won last year.

It's the Washington way.

When I lived in St. Louis, they used to say it was "First in shoes, first in booze, and last in the American League". Washington, which is looking for a new slogan, seems to be "First in news, one of the first in zoos, and last in all the leagues".

My suggestion for city slogan: Washington - where you don't go to the mall to shop.

2. Washington does have cherry blossoms, and yesterday was a beautiful day to walk around the Tidal Basin, and also to stop at the Washington Monument for the kite festival. Billions of people were there, old, young, white, black, Oriental.

3. We saw two movies, "Namesake" and "Flannel Pajamas". Both were relationship movies, and in both cases the relationships went haywire. No happy endings.

"Flannel Pajamas" was the weaker of the two, although I did not really like either movie very much. Two New Yorkers are fixed up by their mutual therapist. They live in New York (the New York papers tended to give the film much more positive reviews), she is somewhat shallow girl from Montana with an attractive smile, he is a Jewish (though you can't prove it by anything that happens in the movie) talker who seems as untrustworthy as they come. Her family is drenched in alcohol and her parents divorced; his mother was crazy but his parents stayed together. Functionality was not a part of either of their family backgrounds. They fall in love, they get married, and then they begin to torment each other, not because they want to, and not loudly, just inevitably. Who are these people, who are presumably finding themselves? I am not sure that they knew themselves any better at the end than they did at the beginning.

We went into "Flannel Pajamas" blind (it was close by and started at the right time), but I thought that my reaction to "Namesake" was going to be positive. But here you go. A young woman in Calcutta has an arranged marriage with a Bengali living and teaching in New York. They struggle (in every way) at first, but wind up with an acceptable house in the suburbs and a lot of Bengali friends. So far, so typical. Their two children become all-American (not surprising) and their older, gifted son (a Yalie and an architect) falls in love with a non-Indian, blond haired daughter of wealth (shades of "Flannel Pajamas"). He ignores his family, and seems to be well on his way to marriage, when his father dies, and he has guilt and regets and remembers he is Indian, and throws away (really, no better word for it) his girlfriend Maxine, and meets and quickly marriages the girl of his parents dream, the daughter of a couple of from the old country. Happy ever after? Not on your life. His new wife, Mo, it seems needs more than one guy at a time and begins an affair with old French boyfriend Pierre. Splitsville, once more.

Commonalities: relationships that go sour, although in the first movie you thought it was because they were from different backgrounds, and in the second the only reason they got together is that they were from similar backgrounds. And Christmas: in the first movie, Christmas in Montana is central to everything, although the fact that the boyfriend was (so-called) Jewish did not seem to matter at all. In the second, the Hindu family has wreaths and trees and reindeer on the lawn, all brightly lit.

Ugh.

3. Good food. Arucola and Luiginis. Neither new to us. Both reliable for good fish dinners. And a very good Italian wine, Passamante, at Luigini's.

Sticking with food for a minute, the weekend before, we had a tapas lunch at Jaleo, and I ordered a sherry, a Palo Cortado. What is that? I looked it up in Wikipedia, and they said: "it is a rare variety of sherry that is initially aged under flor to become a fino or amontillado, but inexplicably loses its veil of flor and begins aging oxidatively as an oloroso." No wonder I liked it.

4. I finished the book about Colonel Frank Brandstetter, World War II hero, owner/manager of Las Brisas Hotel in Acapulco, U.S. intelligence operator. As I said before, it was an interesting book. I looked it up on Amazon. There appear to have been no professional reviews (it was published by University of North Texas Press), but has twelve reader reviews, all positive, some glowing. Several of the reviewers talk about meeting Brandstetter and how impressive he is. Several say that this story is very important and should be assigned by schools and bought by libraries.

Well, that's enough to get you suspicious. Friends of the author writing reviews? You gotta wonder. Particularly, since entries on Google about Brandstetter are primarily limited to mentions of the book.

Is the guy real?