The right mix for the USA

Now’s the Time                          


A Cocktail Party
Proposal


Various commentators have been urging a “wait and see” attitude toward the Egyptian revolution, and it appears our political leaders are planning to do just that. There is a time for caution in world affairs. This is not one of them. This is the time for bold action.


The United States for years has supported the Mubarak dictatorship in Egypt to the tune of about $1.5 billion a year. Most of that goes to Egypt’s military, which now has control of the country. Our annual gift, a huge amount for a struggling Middle Eastern nation, provides just the lever needed to make a worthwhile change in our policy.


Right now, we can replace our traditional lip service in support of democracy with concrete action, and it won’t cost American lives or make any additional impact on our depleted treasury. President Obama should announce to Egypt and the world that if the key demands of the protesters who unseated Mubarak are not met by dates certain, our financial contributions to Egypt will come to a screeching halt.

This simple action might restore a measure of respect for America throughout the Muslim world and elsewhere. It would send a clear message to other dictators we support that they must provide their people with fair judicial systems, free media, and personal security, or our support will be withdrawn. It also has the virtue of being the right thing to do.

So do it, Mr. President . . . now.

For the announcement of the founding of the Great American Cocktail Party visit the August 5, 2010 post titled “Coffee, Tea, or . . .” in the archive on the right-hand column of this blog.

Power to the Pizza


Tens of thousands of demonstrators have turned out in Madison, Wisconsin, to protest the new governor’s proposal to bust unions that represent teachers and other public employees. As things in Madison tend to do, the story has developed an odd twist. News reports say people from around the world are ordering pizzas from a restaurant near the State Capitol to feed the protesters.

As an old, skeptical, journalist, I checked it out. A phone call to “Ian's on State” verified the story. It took me about 15 minutes to get through to an Ian's employee. He said the number of foreign callers had increased in just a few hours from people in 12 nations to citizens of 25 countries, including people in Africa and the Middle East. Egypt and Turkey were among the latter. Orders had come in from nearly all of our 50 states.


Business is so good at Ian's that the firm has suspended its regular delivery service in Madison to concentrate on making and delivering food for the demonstrators. They have also simplified the system. The only orders being taken are for $20 pizzas. Callers are asked if they want to tack on a tip for the delivery person.

If you want to support the demonstrators, phone an order to Ian's at 608-257-9248 and hit 3 during the automated message to reach the State Street location. If you want to oppose public employee unions, you can post a comment on Ian's Facebook or Twitter sites. 

High Standards


Those who believe college fraternity members learn only how to consume a lot of booze and charm young ladies are incorrect. I learned many skills as a Sigma Nu at the University of Wisconsin, some still useful.


When I was a pledge, active member Lou Kocsis served as House Manager. The job paid the cost of his room, which was $25 a month. Kocsis fulfilled his duties as though his compensation was several thousand dollars a month. He was studying engineering on the GI Bill after serving as a sergeant in the U.S. Air Force.


The biggest part of Kocsis’ responsibilities was making sure the public areas in the Sigma Nu house were cleaned weekly. We pledges did the work, most of which was assigned every Saturday morning to be sure things were in top shape before the usual Saturday night party with dates.


I clearly remember Kocsis, on my first Saturday as a pledge, instructing us in the fine art of toilet cleaning—the Air Force way. That involved getting close to the work and a lot of elbow grease. The result was supposed to be sparkling white bowls that would have made any inspecting officer proud. Kocsis was a fairly big man with a big voice. I never forgot the lesson, although it didn’t seem like the type of instruction that would be very useful to a college grad in later life.


But it proved to be useful.


BW (beautiful wife) Sandy and I had several long discussions when I was considering early retirement. I was more than ready to join the ranks of the gainfully unemployed, but wanted to be sure we had carefully considered the change and were in agreement. I was pretty sure Sandy would approve if I chose to retire. But just to sway her if there were any doubts, I said she would never again have to clean a toilet.


A little basic math says I most likely tidied up toilet bowl number 17,000 sometime in the fall of last year. And every time I get up from my knees (the only Kocsis-approved position for bowl cleaning), I think:


Does that measure up to Brother Kocsis’ standards?

What’s He Full Of?


The Rev. Ralph White, pastor of Bloomfield Full Gospel Baptist Church in Memphis, TN, has decided to refuse to baptize a child in his church unless the parents are married.—WMC-TV news report. 1/31/2011.


“Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” –Jesus of Nazareth to the disciples. Mark 10:14, St. James Version, Christian bible.


What “full gospel” does Ralph White subscribe to?

Last on the List


Everybody, except me, thought it was a joke. All who asked were told the very last item on my “Bucket List” was to watch the Green Bay Packers win one more Super Bowl.


Ridiculous? No. A careful assessment after watching the movie about the two old codgers who wanted to do many things before they cashed in, plus several reassessments later, showed about three years ago I had done the next-to-last specific thing I wanted to do in my lifetime. The Packers gave me the opportunity to take care of the last one. I was content as I tore up the old bucket list Sunday night.


However, even before the old list hit the bottom of the recycling bin, a successor called my “dream list” started developing. It includes three items at the moment. Only two are likely to happen.


The first really is a “targets of opportunity” generality. Now that my bucket is empty, I want to concentrate more on doing things that benefit other people. This one is sort of like a New Years' resolution. Maybe I’ll make it happen; maybe not. Chances of success: 70-30.


My second dream is that those idiotic wars in the Mideast will come to an end during my lifetime and not be replaced by other unjustified military adventures. Chances of success: near zero. When will we ever learn?


Once again, the last item on my list depends on the Packers. To fulfill my dream, they need to build on this year’s improbable Super Bowl win to put the franchise where it rightfully belongs—atop the football world.


The Packers and Chicago Bears have played 182 times, and it is galling that Da Bears are eight games ahead of the Packers in the series. That needs to be corrected.


Although the Packers have won the most professional football championships—thirteen—The Steelers have won six Super Bowls and the Dallas Cowboys and San Francisco Forty Niners each have triumphed five times. This is an intolerable situation for Packers fans. Our heroes only have four wins. We need three more to make things right in the record books.


I wrote this year’s team off after the fourth game as the number of players out for the season with injuries was growing faster than a snow drift on the east shore of Lake Michigan in January. I was wrong. I underestimated the depth and talent of the squad. The coach and general manager turned out to be far smarter than some of their public appearances led me to believe they were.


Sunday’s achievement, events in the weeks leading up to it, and the age, contract status, and ability of the entire complement of players foretell a bright future. Barring serious injury to the quarterback, Green Bay is going to be a powerhouse for eight to ten years. That’s plenty of time for them to take care of their responsibilities on my “dream list.” And I’m expecting to spend at least that many years working on the other items and anything else that seems important.

Then, Spin Dry

It’s impossible to work up the kind of intense dislike for the Pittsburgh Steelers that true Packers fans have for the Chicago Bears. Really, it’s hard to work up any sort of bad feelings for the Super Bowl opponents, so this will have to do for a pre-game razz:

The wife of a Pennsylvania man was ill, and he gallantly offered to do the laundry, a task he never had undertaken before.


Soon after he entered the laundry room, he yelled to his spouse, who grew up in Wisconsin, “How do you wash a sweatshirt?”


“It depends,” she answered. “What does it say on the shirt?”

“Go STEELERS,” he yelled.


“Use hot water, a full box of Tide, and four cups of bleach.”

May the Ranchers Be With You


One of the things we like about our new home is the way Michigan state and local governments have provided connections with recycling systems.


Most of our household trash is picked up monthly at the curb by a private contractor hired by our township who separates plastics, glass, and paper for processing. State law makes it possible for cans and bottles of many types to be returned to major supermarkets at any time for a refund of the 5 cents each that we pay when we buy the originals.


Where we previously lived in Utah, aluminum drink cans were the only items readily recyclable. We saved them in big bags in the garage for a couple of months, and then had to make a 12-mile roundtrip to a junkyard in a shabby part of Ogden to collect five or six dollars. We did that, not because we were hard up for five bucks, but because we were strong believers in the benefits to society of recycling. Lots of people didn’t bother.


Enthusiasm for new large-scale recycling programs surged throughout the country in the early 1970s as the environmental movement began to flower. The new activists no longer were satisfied with supporting an occasional paper drive by the Boy Scouts or our traditional reliance on random trips to junk dealers who bought scrap metal.


I was the Public Information Officer for the Boise National Forest in Idaho in 1972. The Forest Supervisor was designated as the liaison between the U. S. Forest Service and the state legislature. One of my duties was to help with the legislative tasks.


Up popped a bill in the legislature to require food markets to pay five cents for every metal can turned in to them. At the time, most cans sold in Idaho were steel, not aluminum, and the economics of reusing can metal were not good. An association of can manufacturers and several large grocery chains announced their firm opposition to the “five cent bill.”


One legislator and two prominent environmentalists asked us to testify in favor of the bill. We had to get approval from the Regional Forester to give testimony on a state matter. We asked for approval. A denial came quickly. Regional Office staffers said although we had littering problems on National Forest land, it was a minor concern compared to other issues. They did not want us to appear to be interfering in a state matter by pushing a recycling bill in what was a very conservative state.


Dick Stauber, our Recreation and Lands staff officer, wanted to support the bill. So did I. Stauber was a stickler about keeping our facilities and adjacent lands in good condition, and he thought anything that would reduce litter was worthy of endorsement. I thought supporting the bill would give us some needed support from local environmentalists.


As good civil servants often do, we found a way to game the system. Stauber volunteered to testify, and we had a little strategy meeting with Supervisor Ed Maw. Maw grew up in Idaho and had many contacts in our area. He was well aware that environmental groups were relatively weak, and commodity groups were powerful. He also knew ignoring Regional Office people generally was not a good idea. He reluctantly agreed to let Stauber go ahead. Maw told me to accompany him to the hearing. I got the feeling he wanted me there to take the blame if something went badly wrong.


The hearing room was crowded. Opponents of the bill spoke first. Maw was fidgeting around nervously in the chair next to me. Then, a few supporters spoke before Stauber was called. His opening words were:


“I’m Richard Stauber, Recreation and Lands Staff Officer for the Boise National Forest, U.S. Forest Service. I’m testifying in favor of this bill as President of the Boise Chapter of the Society of American Foresters.”

Who could argue with that? He didn’t really claim to represent the Forest Service. I wondered later if he actually asked any SAF members what they thought about the bill. He indeed was the local chapter president that year, so maybe he felt he didn’t have to.


A few minutes later the hearing ended. Maw had stopped fidgeting and had a little smile on his face.


I said, “Stauber did a nice job, don’t you think.”


Maw said, “Yeah, but that didn’t matter much. As soon as I heard that guy from the Cattlemen’s Association support the bill, I knew we were in good shape.”

Unfortunately, our trickery didn’t carry the day. The bill died in committee. But we did come away with a few new friends, and no new enemies.

Thanks, Adam and Phil


As we contemplated a foot of new snow covering our "nothing-should-really-be-this-long-and-wide" driveway, two wonderful things happened.


Our good neighbor Adam appeared with his snow blower to clear most of the white stuff.


Puxatawney Phil appeared above ground to forecast an early spring.


Thanks, guys. We needed help . . . and hope.

Bad Strategy, Lefties


Ultra-liberal Democrats over the past several months have focused on discrediting Sarah Palin, while she busily cashes in on her popularity with the Tea Party by promoting a profitable book, appearing on her own television show, collecting paychecks from Fox News, and accepting hefty public appearance fees.


Actually, any sort of liberal nowadays is either a Democrat or an Independent. When relics such as Senator Olympia Snowe move on, which will be soon, there will be no place in the Republican Party for anyone who is not a conservative of one stripe or another. Already, there is darn little room for the more moderate conservatives.


What a change from the days of my youth. The Republican Party was born in Wisconsin (at Ripon). I also was born in Wisconsin. My progressive Republican parents hated any government waste of taxpayer dollars, and they had equal disdain for the Democratic Party, especially its members of Congress from the “solid South” who fought vigorously against civil rights legislation. My parents backed public education, anti-trust legislation, and tolerance of all in religious matters, including those who had no religious beliefs.


We seem to have turned 180 degrees. Republicans started the trend that has given us the biggest federal government deficits in history. They have blocked, or tried to block, any advances in social justice. They have undermined public education with policies designed to aid alternatives. They have removed restrictions on business consolidations, thus curtailing the very competition they give lip service to. Conservative religions are A-OK with the GOP, but those with other views are vilified as un-American.


Democrats, who earlier included our worst bigots, nominated an African-American for president. They restricted government excesses and produced the only federal budget surpluses in recent years. They more recently passed legislation to restore some semblance of control over financial institutions that were running amok and nearly caused a world-wide depression with their actions. They back many social programs abhorred by conservative religionists. Sixty years ago, most members of conservative Christian churches were Democrats.


And now, the Democrats, last haven for liberals in our society, are making a big mistake. They are trying to remove Sarah Palin from the political arena with all manner of criticism at every opportunity. If they’re smart, they’ll rethink that activity.


Sarah Palin is the best thing that has happened to the Democratic Party in a long time. Liberals should stop demonizing her. They need her as a Republican candidate for President in 2012.


There is nothing to stop Palin from running for the Republican nomination except the liberals’ attack strategy. She has enough Tea Party followers to make her a candidate. She can be stopped only if the Demos succeed in portraying her as totally without qualifications to the extent that a large number of the less-rabid conservatives oppose her.


If Palin stays in the running and loses the nomination fight, which is likely, her campaign will have fractured the Republican Party, probably guaranteeing a Democratic victory. What if, against the odds, she were to win the nomination?


Can you image Sarah Palin in a nationally televised debate with Barack Obama? Poor Ms. Palin would look silly when squaring off face-to-face with Mr. Obama to discuss policy issues.


There are more independents, like me, than either Democrats or Republicans. I can tell you right now how most of us would vote after watching the spectacle of Palin trying to match wits with Obama. The vast majority would not favor Mama Grizzly.

Staying Power

I watched in disbelief as Chicago Bears quarterback Jay Cutler stood on the sidelines nursing a sore leg while his team dropped the National Football Conference title game to the Packers yesterday.


Like Cutler, I suffered a leg injury just before the end of the first half. My left ankle cramped up as I jumped off the sofa when the Packers made a key defensive stop.


Nevertheless, I managed to hobble to the kitchen for another glass of wine to sustain me through the second half. A little leg injury wasn’t going to keep me out of a title game.

A Sort-of Hometown Hero


I should have puffed up with pride when a photo of a ferocious-looking footballer appeared in the University of Wisconsin alumni magazine with this caption: “Mike Webster as a Badger: the Tomahawk, Wisconsin, native was drafted by the Pittsburgh Steelers in 1974 and played seventeen seasons in the NFL . . .”


Like all small communities, my hometown hasn’t produced a big crop of famous people, so a legitimate hero means a lot. The trouble here is that referring to the man who became known as “Iron Mike” for stellar play that took him to four Super Bowl victories and a berth in the NFL Hall of Fame as a “Tomahawk native” is stretching things.


Webster’s parents were potato farmers north of Tomahawk, but Mike went to school and played high school football at Rhinelander, which is about 18 miles from my hometown. The Rhinelander High School stadium is named for him.


Although he ranks right at the top in discussions of the best center ever to play pro football, the sport did not treat Webster well. He suffered numerous head traumas, was hooked on painkillers by the time he retired, had bouts of amnesia, depression, and dementia, and died while still a young man. His family sued the NFL for disability payments in 2006 and won a $1 million judgment.

The lawsuit and attendant news stories did much to raise the level of concern about effects of concussions on athletes. The topic is on the front-burner today throughout the sports world.


The Webster family saw to it that Mike made a contribution to the cause of better protection for athletes. After he died, his brain was sent to the University of Pittsburgh. There, a pathologist did an autopsy resulting in the first diagnosis of CTE, a condition caused by years of absorbing blows to the head. That made Webster the first NFL player to receive that diagnosis, a research breakthrough upon which others are building as they study effects of repeated jolts to the head and how to prevent the damage.


Webster’s posthumous contribution may turn out to be his finest. He became a hero, hometown or not, once again after he died.


The pro football anti-heroes right now are the greedy owners trying to convince the players’ union to agree to expand the schedule by two for a total of 18 games. This is unconscionable with ample scientific evidence in hand that damage from repeated head-knocking is cumulative.


My favorite club, the Green Bay Packers, is a nonprofit corporation and thus has no greedy owner. We small-fry shareholders should be watching closely on this one to see what position our representatives take. Clearly, the players’ health should be the top priority.

Beck, Right and Wrong

Ultra-conservative television commentator Glenn Beck got the big idea right last week. But he stumbled badly on some of the key points in his analysis.


Beck was right on when he attacked the Congressional leaders who arranged a reading of the Constitution and then left out significant parts. Among the omissions were the original article that declared slaves equivalent to three-fifths of a vote and the amendment that forced Prohibition upon the land.


Beck said the sponsors of the reading were “cowards” for allowing the omissions “because they didn’t want to offend anybody.” I think descriptors such as “misguided” or “stupid” might have been better fits.


The whole concept of the reading was ridiculous. The representatives must take an oath to uphold the Constitution and many ran on platforms in the recent elections pledging to follow it literally, so we might assume they had a glimmering of an idea about what it says. The fact that only a couple dozen stayed around for the conclusion of the wasted hour and a half of reading testifies to that.


The sponsors of the reading did not exactly rewrite history, but they certainly twisted it seriously with the omissions. Any sort of historical revisionism is deplorable, whether it covers up the fact of slavery in our nation or takes the form of censorship of textbooks in Texas. Whether Beck was correct or not in charging there was an element of “political correctness” in the Congressional action, I stand with him in condemning revisionism for any reason.


An earlier news report said a publisher was in the process of issuing a “cleansed” version of Mark Twain’s classic “Huckleberry Finn.” More than one student of American literature believes this book is among the greatest American novels. Why? Because Twain was the first to abandon the stilted formal English of earlier novelists and have his characters speak the language as common people of the day did.


So now a publisher intends to rewrite the sentences in which Huck calls his friend Jim a nigger? Rubbish, I say. Not one word should be altered.


To wind up his tirade against the Congressional leaders, Beck obsessed about the value of the Constitution: “this document is great for one reason: they left in the scars.”


Poppycock. Our Constitution is great because of the foresight of its authors in creating a government with checks and balances and guarantees of basic freedoms that is flexible enough to accommodate changes in society, yet has kept would-be religious or political dictators from seizing control of our nation for more than 200 years. Scars have nothing to do with it.

Our Promise 

The right mix for the USA


                                                                   
A Cocktail Party
Pledge



The American Cocktail Party pledges, in all our activities, to vigorously argue against the policies of our opponents. We promise, however, to refrain from personal attacks on those who do not agree with us. We will discuss programs and proposals, not personal characteristics, and avoid inflammatory language and symbolism.

Now if the leaders of both traditional political parties and commentators on radio and television would join us in this pledge, maybe, just maybe, there would be no more Tucson massacres.

(Our best wishes for a speedy recovery to fellow blogger Ashleigh Burrows, who was shot three times by the perpetrator of the Tucson crimes.)

The Consistent Mystery


Every New Years Day, I look forward to two things. Gifts and good wishes from family are one. A birthday greeting from John “Jake” Jirschele is the other.


Once again, the family came through. So did Jake, at about 8 a.m. on January 1.


Jake Jirschele lived a couple of blocks up the street from my childhood home in Tomahawk, Wisconsin. He was in the class behind mine in high school. I haven’t seen him for about 50 years, but I remember him well. Obviously, he remembers something about me very well.


Jake was consistent, as I recall. He stroked every shot as hard as possible in Spike’s Pool Hall, whether it was a long one or a four-inch “gimmee.” He made a lot of them, and bounced a few cue balls off the walls in the process. He fired off shots from outside the circle (three-pointers nowadays) with reckless abandon on the basketball court. He made a few of them. When he itched, he invariably scratched. Where? Well, we won’t go into that.


When it comes to my birthdays, Jake has been equally consistent for a long time. We connected to the Internet as soon as that became possible. Early on, we added Jake’s addy to our list and knew he had ours, but we rarely corresponded. The first New Years Day we could receive e-mail, to my surprise, Jake sent me a happy birthday message.


How did he know? The first greetings arrived many years before my birth date became readily available to the world through this Blog and, more recently, via Facebook. Jake has remembered the big day every year—probably about 15 times—since his first message. Each time I ask him how he knew New Years Day was my birthday. He has never answered the question. Either he has a very long memory or a well-maintained calendar.


The Jirschele birthday message always includes wishes for good fortune in the year ahead. We’re planning on making those wishes come true.


Everything here is Jake, Jake.


For you youngsters, that saying is said to have become popular in the 1920s and still was heard often during my teenage years. “Everything is Jake” means “everything is OK.” I hope it applies to John Jirschele as well as to our present situation and our prospects for 2011. Maybe Jake will even answer my question this year.

Take Heart, Fellow Geezers

I’m not so sure all those experts who claim fully mature adults develop short-term memory losses are correct.

When I was 17, my high school baseball team traveled 20 miles to play one of our big rivals. Upon arriving, a frantic search revealed I had forgotten my catcher’s mitt


My son just phoned. He bought some herring to serve yesterday while we celebrated New Years Day at his place. It’s a family tradition. He forgot to serve the herring during the seven hours we spent together.


After all, it’s not a catastrophe to forget a few things at any age. I borrowed another guy’s mitt for the baseball game, and although that didn't work out so well at least I didn't have to rely on my bare hands.

We’re going to our son’s house in a couple of hours to snack on the herring. Some forgetfulness doesn’t spoil much of anything; it just extends the celebration.




The right mix for the USA

To Your               

Good
Health   

A Cocktail Party
Progress Report 
                          
The Cocktail Party platform committee is working diligently on a national health care position statement. So far, the members have been unable to reach a consensus. What’s new about that, when health care is the topic?

The committee, however, has announced one important bit of progress. It has adopted a slogan for the health plank:

“Of all things that won’t cure a cold, martinis are best.”

Here’s to you—Happy New Year!

Be Happy, Don’t Worry

‘Tis the season when many contemplate wondrous births and the mystery of death and what may happen then. So it seems appropriate to offer up a few thoughts.

Most people I know have no reason to fear death. If there is an afterlife and they are ushered into heaven, they’ll be pleasantly surprised. If there is no afterlife, it won’t matter.

The odds are different for the few who seem to have dedicated their lives to behaving badly. They might do well to worry a bit.

Whatever you believe about your inevitable departure, the geezer hopes you will put aside any concerns about it and enjoy a very Merry Christmas.

What Power (?)

Geez, just days after my post urging Congress to repeal the "don't ask, don't tell" policy on gays in the military, Congress actually did that.


Unfortunately, no evidence indicates that any members of Congress read Cocktail Party opinions. One library board member does, though. Does that count?

Open the Closet Door

A Cocktail Party Position

Opponents of the military’s “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy toward gay servicemen and women are trying to ram through repeal legislation during the dying days of this Congress. The Cocktail Party hopes they succeed.

“Don’t ask, don’t tell” is bad policy. The American public recognizes that, as poll after poll shows a growing body of opinion that all our citizens deserve equal treatment under the law. Recent polls show most military personnel hold the same view, although some, primarily in the Army and Marines, disagree.

The policy was different, and more unfair, when the Cocktail Party chairman served in the U.S. Army in the late 1950s. At that time, any member, or potential member, of the military could be asked about their sexual orientation. An admission of homosexuality kept the individual from enlisting in the service or resulted in a speedy dishonorable discharge.

The 1950s policy apparently was effective in keeping “queers,” “homos,” or “dykes” (today’s “gays” sounds much more civil) out of the military, or deeply hidden within it. Your party chairman served nearly two years in a huge unit (850 enlisted men) in the Sergeant Major’s office, where just about everything was known about everyone. Not a single man was discharged for gay conduct or admitting to being gay. No one was even suspected of being gay.

A WAC battery right down the street was home to several hundred women. The old soldiers among the men claimed that most of the older enlisted women and many WAC officers were lesbians. Your chairman never saw or heard of any concrete evidence to back up those assertions. Certainly, there was plenty of evidence that a large number of the younger WACs were straight. Pregnancy discharges were fairly common, and intimate boy-girl conduct was commonplace.

No doubt gays have served in our armed forces throughout history, but they had to stay deep within the closet to continue their careers. The prospect of immediate discharge, or worse, must have been a constant nightmare for them. In the 1950s, a gay soldier would have been shunned by his comrades at best, and probably would have been subjected to physical violence in many units. Then, he would have been discharged.

“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” adopted during the Clinton administration years, made service by gays at least more possible and safer. But, this is 2010, not 1955 or 1995. It’s a good thing that attitudes and policy have changed on the side of justice, but now the policy needs to change once again to match current public attitudes and meet ethical standards.

The Cocktail Party firmly believes it is morally wrong and indefensible for any human being to be forced to lie, or worse, to live a lie, to have the opportunity to begin or continue any career, including military service.

Showing Your (?) Colors

Those with a sharp eye will recognize a Bucky Badger and University of Wisconsin “W” adorning son Lee’s apron pocket as he and fiancée Karen took a photo op break from preparing this year’s Thanksgiving dinner.

With Wisconsin on a football roll toward the Rose Bowl, the UW emblem was only fitting. What didn’t fit is that Lee is a University of Minnesota grad. I gave him the apron a few years back.

It was a retaliation gift. Lee had presented me with two Golden Gopher golf sweaters and a cap. The cap had a big Minnesota rhomboid emblem. I tried, not very successfully, to make the cap work to my advantage.

My golfing partners in Utah had no idea what the block “M” represented, and when they asked I informed them it stood for “Money,” and that’s what I intended to win during that day’s round. The theory was my brazen statement might rattle opponents and negatively affect their games. Of course, once they saw me play a few holes any edge I had acquired evaporated.

When Lee was a Minnesota student, Sandy and I would journey to the Twin Cities for U of M-UW football games. Lee visited Madison with us when the games were played there. He went one up in the family rivalry one year when he lulled me into trusting him to buy the Madison tickets. Our seats were right next to the Minnesota band. The proximity to the loud “Here’s to the U or M” guys had the desired effect of drowning out my feeble “U rah rahs” for Wisconsin.

Karen is a Purdue University grad. She’s not big on football rivalries, and thus takes a more adult approach by wearing an apron devoid of school colors. However, if she decides to pull some sort of sophomoric stunt on the geezer, she may qualify for her very own Bucky Badger apron, or perhaps a nice chef’s hat with a cardinal “W.”