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Anyway, I just want to state that he has a funny face — and I mean no disrespect when I say this. It’s a handsome face. But it’s a funny face, too, with a degree of rubberiness, à la Dick Van Dyke. It composes itself in funny formations. In sum, it’s a great mug for an actor, allowing, I would think, for a broad range of parts and moments.
For the first time, over this past long weekend, I heard “holiday” — repeatedly — for Thanksgiving. Are Americans now afraid to say “Thanksgiving” too? I mean, who can be offended? The stewardess (there’s another “offensive” word) said over the PA, “Have a wonderful holiday.” A girl (there’s another “offensive” word) said in the shopping mall on Friday, “Did you have a good holiday?” I mean, it’s epidemic (or “endemic” or something — I’m too lazy to re-look those things up). Let me add a little footnote: Years ago, I had a wonderful boss of the Hebraic faith (as Gore Vidal would say) — I won’t name him, but his name rhymes with Kill Bristol — who happily, pointedly, said “Christmas party,” rejecting the anodyne, needlessly-touchy “holiday party,” which said something (warm) about him.
Woods won this event by 14 strokes. I’m not sure how to convey to the non-golfer how freakish that is — how simply impossible. Over 36 holes, he beat — count ’em — Davis Love, Justin Leonard, and Rich Beem by 14 strokes (shooting 61 in the second round). As I said, this isn’t human. Just suck it up and be in awe. Another footnote: As I mentioned in the first piece I wrote for NR about Woods, I once heard Ken Venturi, commentating in the booth for CBS, say of a player who, on Sunday, was leading a regular, four-round tournament by three strokes: “He’s lapping the field.” And he was right.
That attack on the Israeli polling place? I’m not much for symbolism, when the world provides all too much reality, but there is something to be noted there: Certainly no Arab can vote in a free election (unless, of course, he’s an Israeli). And that area of Israel is heavy with Moroccan Jews — people who had immigrated in part to escape such hate and violence. Finally, Thomas L. Friedman, the most influential columnist in the world (you could argue, as I have), wrote on Nov. 27, “Soldiers shooting kids is wrong. Suicide killing is wrong. There is no God that blesses either.” (The entire column is found here.) By “soldiers,” he meant Israeli ones. These are servicemen going after terrorists who are blowing up kids and others deliberately; they sometimes, and tragically, hit kids when they are in such hot pursuit. Obviously. Folks, Thomas L. Friedman has won three Pulitzer prizes. I’ll stop now.
My question: Why can’t colleges be places of learning instead of political agitation? I mean, do students know enough to agitate one way or the other? During the allegedly apathetic ’80s and ’90s, Abbie Hoffman liked to denounce campuses as “hotbeds of social rest” — pretty cute, huh? But what’s wrong with a little social rest, while learning is taking place? There is pressure on students to be political activists; the idea of the university is perverted. But you know all this, I know.
Just a thought — simple-minded, I know. And, by the way, I heard the wife of a fighter pilot say something interesting recently. She said, “Everyone says that Bush walks like a cowboy, or tries to; no, he walks like a fighter pilot — it’s obvious.” Wasn’t to me, but I mostly believe it.
I thought of this when Jay Leno, on The Tonight Show, made this mistake recently: “of” instead of “for.” And I remember thinking at the time — in that meaningful year of 1984 — what a grossly dogmatic organization NOW must be, to boo and hiss an old left-liberal warrior on account of something so trivial and forgivable as that. Maybe I’m “over-reading” the situation, but it struck me as telling.
And, did you have a nice holiday? |
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are to begin with a little name-dropping? I thought so. On the plane home
from Michigan today (I’m writing on Sunday), I sat across from Jeff
Daniels, the actor. He’s a Michigander. Has a playhouse in Chelsea
(I’m talking about a theater, not the Pee Wee kind — and, when
I say “Chelsea,” I’m not talking about a neighborhood in
Manhattan, but a little town in Michigan, close to Ann Arbor). Back when
I worked at golf courses, Daniels was a customer — his engagement
with that sport speaks well of him.
For
many years, I’ve been complaining about the abolition of “Christmas”
— I mean, the word. At some point, everyone seemed to get terrified
of saying “Christmas.” It was “holiday” this and “holiday”
that. “Happy Holidays,” “Happy Holidays,” “Happy
Holidays,” until you wanted to shoot yourself. The “Christmas
party” was dead; it was the “holiday party.”
