Gettin' Iggy Wit' It

Dancing with Whitney

2012-02-11T18:19:00.000-08:00

If you read this blog, or if you read my posts over on Tunesmate, you surely realize by now that I have a fondness for popular music. For over two decades now, I've been formally studying popular culture, and in the process I've examined film and television, I've done a lot of research on sports, I've look at advertising and consumption, and I've analyzed popular literature. Yet, the impetus for studying popular culture really came from my interest in music.

When I started college, I even thought about studying music. Upon entry at Bowling Green State University in 1990, I was accepted into the College of Music, largely on my music theory knowledge, while being told that I was going to have to spend the summer between high school and college learning how to play my tuba much more effectively if I was going to cut it.

On the way home from my audition, while sad over the results and not sure what to think or how to feel, my dad told me about something else I could study at BGSU: Popular Culture. And the more I thought about it, the more this seemed like a match. I had, after all, spent my last couple of years of high school playing bass guitar, watching MTV, and pouring over Billboard magazine when it came in the mail each week. (I used to spend almost $200 of my own money each year for that Billboard subscription.)

I went into my first year at BGSU undecided, having enrolled in the Introduction to Popular Culture course to see what it was like. By November -- just three months into my first semester of college -- I was hooked. I declared Popular Culture as my major, and I've been studying it in some form or another ever since.

On the surface, that may seem to have little to do with the passing of Whitney Houston, which is ultimately the subject of this post. Yet, that journey was at least in part inspired by Whitney.

While I'm sure the interest in popular music had been latent within me for years, it was the summer of 1987 that really made me recognize it. Following Dial MTV every day that summer, typically while hanging out with my friend Glen, I had a full blast of songs like Heart's "Alone," George Michael's "I Want Your Sex," Bob Seger's "Shakedown," and Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)," among a host of others. Houston's song in particular made me love pop music. I thought she was so beautiful in the video, and the song had such amazing energy that it made me crave the joy of singing, dancing, and playing and listening to music.

By the end of that summer, between my freshman and sophomore years of high school, my whole outlook had changed, and popular music was now as big a part of my life as anything. I built my schedule around making sure I listened to Rick Dees' Weekly Top 40. I watched MTV as much as my family would let me have the TV set to do so. And I was writing lyrics with a good deal of my spare time. That following spring, while Whitney Houston was setting the record for most consecutive number one singles (as I’ve written about this evening on Tunesmate), I was getting my first bass guitar and dreaming of life as a pop star.

Obviously, I didn't become a pop star, but I did become a pop culture scholar who still deeply loves popular music and who still writes music when I have the time. And, I don't know that I would have done any of it without dancing with Whitney back in the summer of 1987.

J. Geils Band's "Centerfold"

2012-02-06T16:55:00.000-08:00

As a nine-year-old heterosexual boy in Catholic school in the early 1980s, I'm sure there were a lot of reasons why this song and video appealed to me. Looking back on it now, it's quite apparent just how much it embodies the kinds of blatant sexism that have been staples of rock 'n' roll music. I mean, seriously, is J. Geils Band's "Centerfold" not the perfect example of
scrawny-looking men thinking that women should be throwing themselves at them?

I obviously wasn't alone, as the song went to number 1 on Billboard's Hot 100 chart exactly 30 years ago today, and it would remain there for a total of six weeks. Surely, the catchiness of the whistled melody played a significant role in the song's popularity as well, and I do remember a few instances in which I was whistling or singing that melody without thinking about it in the context of the subject matter of the song or video. Yet, I have to think that subject matter also aided that popularity, and in that regard, it's a pretty telling reflection of the kinds of gender attitudes that prevailed at the time (and that, I think, many contemporary media texts would suggest we may not be as far removed from as we might like to think).

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day!

2012-01-16T08:12:00.000-08:00

I hope that everyone has a safe and enjoyable Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. I will use this day as a time to give thanks for what I have and reflect on the many folks who have helped make that possible and who continue to do so. As I suggested a year ago, this seems like a much more appropriate day for that than Thanksgiving.

A Racial Inequity of Hall of Fame Proportions?

2012-01-14T17:24:00.001-08:00

Every year since he has become eligible, Alan Trammell has received a significant enough amount of votes to remain on the Hall of Fame ballot, though he has not been elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame. This includes appearing on 36.8 percent of the ballots this year. Meanwhile, the ballplayer whose name very prominently complemented Trammell’s through almost the entirety of Trammell’s career, Lou Whitaker, did not receive the five percent needed to remain on the ballot during his first year of eligibility back in 2001, when his name appeared on just 2.9 percent of the ballots cast.

As I grew up in the 1980s, Trammell and Whitaker were seemingly inseparable amid baseball discourse. Both came up, with Trammell at shortstop and Whitaker at second base, for the Detroit Tigers in 1977, and both played nearly their entire careers together for the Tigers, mostly as the team’s starting double-play tandem, through Whitaker’s retirement after the 1995 season. Trammell retired one year later.

In the end, their statistics look very similar. Whitaker played in 2390 games and had 8570 at bats, while Trammell played in 2293 games and had 8288 at bats. Whitaker scored 1386 runs and drove in 1084 RBIs, while Trammell scored 1231 runs and drove in 1003 RBIs. Whitaker had 2369 hits, of which 420 were doubles, 65 were triples, and 244 were home runs. Trammell had 2365 hits, of which 412 were doubles, 55 were triples, and 185 were doubles. Whitaker walked significantly more than Trammell (1099 vs. 874), but he also struck out significantly more than Trammell (1197 vs. 850). Trammell stole significantly more bases (236 vs. 143) and had a significantly higher batting average (.285 to .276), but Whitaker had a higher on base percentage (.363 to .352) and a higher slugging percentage (.426 to .415).

At the time of Whitaker’s retirement, he ranked as follows all-time among second basemen: ninth in hits, fifth in home runs, eighth in runs score, ninth in RBIs, ninth in doubles, fourth in walks, and seventh in at bats. All of those are higher than where Trammell ranked all-time among shortstops at the time of his retirement. Trammell’s rankings were tenth in hits, sixth in home runs, fifteenth in runs score, fifteenth in RBIs, eleventh in doubles, thirteenth in walks, and fifteenth in at bats. Trammell’s ranking of 26th in stolen bases does significantly outperform Whitaker’s ranking of 71st. Also, Trammell ranked 18th in average and 11th in slugging percentage among shortstops, while Whitaker ranked 30th and 12th, respectively. Both were ranked seventeenth in on base percentage, and neither ranked particularly high in triples, though Whitaker did rank higher among second basemen than Trammell did among shortstops. In other words, at the time of retirement Whitaker ranked higher against his positional peers than Trammell in more of the most prominent statistical categories than Trammell ranked higher than Whitaker.

In the time since these two retired, some second basemen have passed Whitaker and some shortstops have passed Trammell. Still, Whitaker remains more highly ranked among second basemen than Trammell does among shortstops on all from the above statistics that he did at the time of retirement except hits, where Trammell is now ranked twelfth among shortstops while Whitaker is ranked thirteenth among second basemen. Meanwhile, Trammell remains more highly ranked in batting average among shortstops than Whitaker does among second basemen (23rd to 42nd), and Trammell is now barely ranked higher among shortstops in on base percentage than Whitaker is among second basemen (20th to 21st), but Whitaker is now ranked slightly higher among second baseman in slugging percentage than Trammell is among shortstops (19th to 20th).

Meanwhile, to make this about at least a little more than batting statistics, Whitaker has a lifetime fielding percentage of .984 (all at second base), while Trammell has a lifetime fielding percentage of .977 at shortstop (along with 944 in 9 games in the outfield, .950 in 11 games at second base, and .950 in 43 games at third base).

All of this considered, there is a strong case to be made that Whitaker actually outperformed Trammell. At the very least, it suggests that there is anything but a clear-cut case of Trammell outperforming Whitaker. Still, the results of a little over a decade of Hall of Fame voting provide a different story, as indicated in my first paragraph above.

In the end, I can’t help but wonder if race is playing a role here, given that Trammell is white, while Whitaker is African American. There are well-documented histories of stereotyped depictions of black athletes as more naturally gifted than white athletes alongside overly generalized characterizations of white athletes as scrappier and more intelligent than black athletes. These characterizations have helped produce a history of Major League Baseball folks seeing white athletes as more fit for managerial and coaching roles than black athletes, and perhaps that has played a role in the fact that Trammell has gone on to become a major league coach and manager, while Whitaker has not. It would seem like these racialized perceptions could also easily lead Hall of Fame ballot holders to give Trammell more credit for his performance than they give Whitaker and thus produce the inequity of these two players’ ballot results.

A Higher Standard

2012-01-13T11:10:00.000-08:00

This week Ohio State University president Gordon Gee appears to have added to the list of awkward statements that he has compiled in recent months. That list includes some disparaging remarks toward the likes of Boise State and TCU in the Fall of 2010. It also includes the unfortunate statement during the investigation of former OSU football coach Jim Tressel last spring that rather than fire Tressel, Gee hoped Tressel didn't fire him. Now, while speaking on Wednesday at the downtown athletic club in Columbus, Gee made an ethnically insensitive statement by referring to a coordination problem among institutions by saying, "It was kind of like the Polish army or something."

For a much-circulated Associate Press account of this latest instance, see here. Now, looking at that again, check out the second-to-last paragraph, which reference other "gaffes" that Gee has made in the past. One listed is from 1992 when Gee called then-governor of Ohio George Voinovich "a damn dummy" regarding funding for higher education.

While this 1992 "gaffe" does reflect upon Gee, it also reflects on a level of agenda setting within the Associated Press, at the very least on the part of the AP writer(s) who wrote the story. Specifically, I'm not sure how this qualifies as a "gaffe." I suppose if it is meant to suggest that his use of the term "dummy" reflects insensitivity to people who cannot speak, I might agree. However, if it's meant to suggest that it was awkward or inappropriate for Gee to refer to Voinovich like that, then it's hardly a "gaffe." I remember higher education changes being proposed and developed by Voinovich's administration at that time, and I remember thinking they were very misguided and antithetical to what I would envision as a thriving and democratic system of education. One change involved the centralization of many graduate programs in the state, which seemed to me that it would take away some of the useful diversity that comes from having multiple degree-granting programs that have different emphases, strengths, and specialities. Indeed, to some extent that change benefited Gee's own institution, as OSU became even more fully (as if it wasn't enough already) a centralized place for research and advanced academic study. Yet, even Gee saw that Voinovich's vision of higher education contained significant flaws.

So, in that context, Gee's comment about Voinovich hardly seems like a gaffe, and it certainly doesn't fit into the same category as his "Polish army" comment. Rather, the mistake here is in the AP story, which sets us up to disallow Gee's comment on Voinovich and thus positions us to accept legitimacy in what Voinovich did to higher education.

Higher education deserves better than this.

My Hypothetical 2012 MLB Hall of Fame ballot

2012-01-08T21:55:00.001-08:00

At approximately 2:00 p.m. tomorrow (Monday, January 9), the 2012 National Baseball Hall of Fame voting results will be announced. Check here for a look at who was on the ballot this past year.

Over the last three years, I’ve posted on this blog indication of those players for whom I would vote if I had a ballot. So, without further ado, if I had an MLB Hall of Fame ballot this year, I would vote for the following ten players (in rough order of how strongly I feel they belong):

Mark McGwire
Rafael Palmeiro
Fred McGriff
Barry Larkin
Tim Raines
Jeff Bagwell
Jack Morris
Dale Murphy
Lee Smith
Alan Trammell

None of these players are new to this year’s ballot. The first nine fall right in line with what I wrote last year, so please read that for more commentary. With Roberto Alomar and Bert Blyleven from last year’s ballot having been elected, that made room for Murphy and Smith to move onto the ballot. Meanwhile, they jumped ahead of Harold Baines from last year, since Baines unfortunately failed last year to attain the five percent to maintain eligibility for the ballot.

Filling in Trammell in the tenth slot was the toughest call to make (and, though I don’t remember my thought process from a year ago, apparently, a year ago I would have put Larry Walker and Don Mattingly ahead of him). After looking over statistics from the careers of a group of players that included Trammell, Walker, and Mattingly as well as Juan Gonzalez, Edgar Martinez, and Bernie Williams, I decided that Trammell had the best case. That said, it was very tough to select one from among that group of six players, and so, like most years, if I could vote for more than 10 players, I would. In fact, I would vote for 16. That includes all of the ten on the mock ballot above as well as the five players who vied with Trammell for the tenth slot on my list.

Of course, that only adds up to 15, and so the final player who would make it is Ruben Sierra. I actually looked at Sierra’s numbers along with the six players mentioned above whom I examined for my tenth slot. I easily separated the other six from Sierra, though, which left him out of that hunt. However, when I reconsidered him to discuss what I would do with an unlimited ballot, I decided to include him. Statistically, he matches up with some players for whom I would have voted in the past. (See last year’s blog post as well as the posts from 2010 and 2009.) I hesitated, though, and I think that hesitation came from my perception of Sierra as not living up to expectation. When Sierra came up in 1986/1987, he was touted very highly, and for a while in the late 1980s and early 1990s, he was my favorite baseball player. I even considered trying to find and purchase the album of music he released in 1994. But then Sierra’s career fell apart, and in the end he didn’t quite live up to the hype. Still, he ended up having a very nice career—one that, in the end, I think was just good enough to warrant Hall of Fame inclusion. Just barely, though.

After Sierra, the remaining candidates on the ballot (all of whom are new to the ballot this year) failed to stack up enough for serious consideration. The only one who seemed to warrant a second look was Vinny Castilla, but his statistics did not stack up enough to merit inclusion, especially when the 1990s Colorado effect seems to need to be taken into account for him. So, in addition to Castilla, Jeromy Burnitz, Brian Jordan, Javy Lopez, Bill Mueller, Terry Mulholland, Phil Nevin, Brad Radke, Tim Salmon, Tony Womack, and Eric Young would not make my ballot.

A Holiday Thank You

2011-12-26T06:15:00.000-08:00

As one of the many, many people who spent part of Christmas day on the road travelling to a holiday gathering, I'd like very seriously and gratefully to take this time to thank the many convenience store, gas station, and food service employees for everything that they do. Their sacrifice in having to spend significant portions of their holiday away from friends and family, often for inadequate compensation and in potentially hostile working conditions, helps make possible the freedoms that the rest of us enjoy.

College Bowl Rankings 2011-2012

2011-12-17T11:50:00.001-08:00

This proved to be fun last year, so, with the first bowl game of the 2011-2012 getting started as I write this, I’m going to offer my rankings of this year’s college bowls, based on their appeal to me as a follower of college football. I’ve purposely not read the bowl game rankings that appear in places like here, here, and here until after I’ve compiled my list. Based on experience, I’m sure that my list is going to differ substantially from the ones I just referenced.

And so, without further ado, here are my 2011-2012 college bowl game watchability rankings from 1 to 35:

1. Baylor v. Washington – Really glad to see Robert Griffin III win the Heisman. He’s typically very fun to watch.

2. Northern Illinois v. Arkansas State – Two words make this very appealable to watch: Chandler Harnish. Add in an Arkansas State team that played very well and there’s a reason this is near the top of the list.

3. Air Force v. Toledo – As a Bowling Green alum, I don’t like to root for Toledo, but I have to admit they’re a good team and they’re enjoyable to watch.

4. Michigan State v. Georgia – My second alma mater, the Spartans, has been a very enjoyable and exciting team to watch. Meanwhile, the excellent season put together by Georgia with their coach on the hot seat helps as well.

5. Ohio v. Utah State – Utah State could have easily ended up with three more wins, with all the last second heartbreaks they’ve suffered, starting with the first game against Auburn. They’re a fun team to watch, and Frank Solich has consistently has good Bobcat teams at Ohio. Oh ... and Ohio's quarterback is the son of former major league baseball player Mickey Tettleton ... and he's pretty good. That's worth watching alone.

6. Boise State v. Arizona State – Realize that if these two teams had played up to their potential, this could have been a BCS game. As it is, Boise State is very worth watching, and though Arizona State is my third alma mater, which draws me to the game, this particular disappointing team actually hurts this game in the rankings. A bit better of a Sun Devil team and this is in the running for number one on this list.

7. Southern Mississippi v. Nevada – This is a very good Southern Mississippi team that ended Houston’s run at perfection. Nevada’s worth watching, too.

8. Wyoming v. Temple – two teams worth watching … and I’m watching them right now as I post this.

9. Louisiana Lafayette v. San Diego State – ditto Wyoming and Temple (except that this game isn’t on yet).

10. Western Michigan v. Purdue – Western Michigan looked very strong in the first half of the season, but then I’m not sure what happened to them. I could take or leave Purdue and their 6-6 record, but I can remember some other recent MAC vs. Purdue bowl games that have been memorable, which helps this game.

11. Houston v. Penn State – Case Keenum is the draw here. Given all that’s happened at Penn State, I’m not very interested in watching their football team. Penn State against any number of other teams and this game would be near the bottom of the least. That says something for Keenum’s appeal.

12. TCU v. Louisiana Tech – TCU is an outstanding team.

13. LSU v. Alabama – Despite what those who myopically believe the more points the better say, I’d argue that that first game between these two was a very exciting game. It was also a good reason why we should bring back the tie and get rid of overtime. This rematch should also be interesting.

14. Georgia Tech v. Utah – Starting to lose some luster starting here. Utah brings this game up the ranking. Georgia Tech is, well, “meh …”

15. Virginia v. Auburn – Kudos to Mike London on the job he’s done at Virginia. I don’t care much for Auburn, but supporting London makes this worthwhile.

16. Oregon v. Wisconsin – I tend to have an inherent dislike for Wisconsin (hmmm … I went to Michigan State … I wonder why …), but after the two MSU-Wisconsin games this year, I have to admit that Wisconsin is worth watching, especially with Russell Wilson and Montee Ball. So, let’s make a deal and be willing to watch this one.

17. Louisville v. N.C. State – Not overly drawn to this but for an interest in supporting Charlie Strong

18. Cincinnati v. Vanderbilt – Starting to get kind of boring here … and I’m only halfway through the list … uh oh …

19. Oklahoma State v. Stanford – This makes it to the bottom half of the list despite some appeal of Stanford’s Andrew Luck … Blame that on the desire not to watch Oklahoma State.

20. California v. Texas – I kind of like Mack Brown, but his Texas teams the last two years seem kind of sleepy, as do the Cal Bears.

21. Missouri v. North Carolina – I’d rank this lower, largely because of North Carolina, but I’m not sure what below this deserves to go higher.

22. South Carolina v. Nebraska – Oh God, still thirteen more to go and we’re already at this snoozer …

23. Clemson v. West Virginia – Seriously! This made it up to number 23. This is good evidence that there are too many bowl games. Unfortunately, since this is a BCS game, this and some of the ones below it would be far from the chopping block, and some of the games I’d want to see (like Air Force v. Toledo and Ohio v. Utah State) would end up getting cut. So, in other words, because of the power of the likes of the SEC, Big Ten, Pac-12, and Big 12, we need 35 bowl games so that people like me can get the bowl games we want to see. Warped logic, I know, but thus are the lovely wonders of our kind of capitalist system …

24. Arkansas v. Kansas State – I don’t mind watching Kansas State, but Arkansas really hurts.

25. Rutgers v. Iowa State – Really boring, and would be lower, but for the fact that stuff below this has major negative appeal, while this one’s just very plain.

26. Texas A&M v. Northwestern – I don’t mind watching Northwestern, but here’s the deal on Texas A&M: a few years ago, they ran afoul of the need to interview minority coaches in order to get “their man” in white guy Mike Sherman. Now, they’ve fired Sherman and are on the hook for a buyout to Sherman. To their credit, they’ve hired Kevin Sumlin as Sherman’s replacement, and maybe that will be a reason to watch them next year. For now, though, they’re still on the naughty list.

27. SMU v. Pittsburgh – Ditto game number 25. No interest in seeing either of these teams much at all.

28. Wake Forest v. Mississippi State – Same here. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

29. BYU v. Tulsa – I have heavy disinterest in seeing BYU. Too bad for Tulsa, because they can be enjoyable to watch.

30. Oklahoma v. Iowa – See last year’s bowl list for some of the reasons why Iowa has a reserved place in a special level of dislike for me. Nothing has changed that. Add in that the thought of watching Oklahoma sounds almost (note, I did say almost) as bad as watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians, and, well, the stuff below this must be REALLY bad.

31. Florida State v. Notre Dame – And it is. Yuck, yuck, yuckety yuck yuck yuck. You know what? Change each of those initial “y” letters to an “f.” That’s how I feel about this game.

32. Ohio State v. Florida – I actually kind of like Urban Meyer a bit—probably because of the outstanding job he did in two years as head coach at Bowling Green. And I understand his thinking in coming out of retirement for the Ohio State job. So, maybe I’ll start to be a little more willing to watch Ohio State in the near future. Note that I said “watch,” not “root for.” I think anyone who graduated from or works at a state university in Ohio other than OSU should have a healthy anger at the way that OSU sucks resources from everyone else, all the while acting like they should have every right to do so, with their “the” Ohio State University crap. Still, I like Meyer a bit. That said, he isn’t the head coach yet … and we all know he’s not at Florida anymore. So, while I feel a bit for Luke Fickell, this game would be tough to watch, especially with Florida as Ohio State’s opponent. That they’re both 6-6 makes it even worse, though I will note that before the season started, I pegged Ohio State to go 4-8, which very easily could have happened had the Buckeyes lost to Toledo and Wisconsin, which very easily could have happened. So, 6-6 for this Buckeye team was actually not bad.

33. FIU v. Marshall – While I know this list is about football and not men’s basketball, that the Athletics Department at Florida International hired Isiah Thomas still feels very icky. And it makes me not want to watch their football team, even though their game against Toledo in last year’s bowl season was kind of entertaining. Marshall does nothing much either way for me.

34. Michigan v. Virginia Tech – Okay, now we’re down to the bottom two, both of which are making a statement by being here. For this one, I know, I know. This looks like a Spartan fan dogging on Michigan by ranking this game next to last. I understand, but I really believe that’s not the case. I’m happy to give props to the Wolverines this year. They played well, and they had an excellent season (which, by the way, I saw coming when I looked at the schedule in August). However, this team does not deserve to be in a BCS game over Boise State, and neither does Virginia Tech. For that matter, Kansas State has a beef against both Michigan and Virginia Tech as well. So, while this is not the most unwatchable game in terms of football excitement, I will be making a point not to watch it because of the injustice that it represents.

35. UCLA v. Illinois – Going from 6-0 to 6-6 by losing your final six games is pretty putrid, all arguments about the ease of Illinois’ first-half schedule aside. A good team would have found a way to win one or two of those final six (like against Ohio State and/or Northwestern, for instance). The Illini didn’t, and that’s why Ron Zook is out as head coach (again, though, with a buyout, which is problematic; I’m getting to be of the “you signed the coach for the number of years you did, so you’re stuck with him” philosophy—something that also applies here to UCLA). While I kind of like Zook, and I think he got a bad rap at Florida, his departure from Illinois is good for me as a Bowling Green fan, since it means that Illinois poached a good coach from Toledo. Still, this isn’t an Illinois team that seems worth watching. That said, at least they, at 6-6, have the right to be here. UCLA had to petition the NCAA for something they did (or didn’t do) not to count so they could get in with a 6-7 record, which is supposed to be not allowed. It seems inappropriate for the NCAA to rule in this instance that a conference championship game shouldn’t hurt a team when in other instances (like Houston losing its undefeated season and a chance at a BCS game, Michigan State getting its third loss of the season and a fall in the BCS rankings that helped pave the way for Michigan to make it to a BCS game instead, etc.) being in a conference championship game does hurt a team. Screw that hypocrisy. While I’ll be rooting for UCLA to lose just because of the embarrassment on college football’s books in having a bowl team that finished 6-8, I refuse to watch this game.

Still Despicable

2011-11-16T07:51:00.000-08:00

Last night, Duke University men's basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski became the winningest head coach in Division I men's basketball history when his Blue Devils defeated the Michigan State University Spartans 74-69 at Madison Square Garden. Since the game--and indeed, even before the game--the accolades have been pouring in. I, however, will not be joining in the chorus celebrating Krzyzewski, and it's not because he defeated one of my alma maters and rooting interests to get his 903rd, record-setting win. Frankly, after their participation in the Carrier Classic last Friday night, I'm not sure I care that much about how the MSU Spartans perform.

Rather, as I wrote about on this blog in March 2010, I find Krzyzewski rather despicable because of his response to the actions of Abar Rouse, who, while serving as an assistant coach for Baylor University's men's basketball team, recorded Dave Bliss concocting a detestable cover-up for the shooting death of one of his basketball players. I'll point you to that post rather than rehashing it here again.

What I find particularly interesting here is the juxtaposition of Krzyzewski's win against the situation unfolding with Penn State University football. As USAToday reported today, 59% of respondents in a poll suggested that the football program had become too powerful at Penn State. Meanwhile, as some have suggested, recently fired head football coach Joe Paterno may have become so big as the head of that football program that he arrogantly thought he called his own shots. Yet, in Coach K, we may be seeing the same kind of pattern developing. Now, that's not to say that Krzyzewski has been directly complicit in the kind of horrible situation in which Paterno has been. However, the kind of lack of sensitivity and moral judgment reflected in Krzyzewski's comments about Rouse lead to me think he is very complicit in the broader culture that helped produce the situation at Penn State. Meanwhile, given Krzyzewski's lack of good judgment in the Baylor situation, I'd want to be really careful about perpetuating the sense that he and his program are more important than the university for which they work and more important than the many other individuals who are affected by what happens at that university. Still, that's exactly what the commemorations of Krzyzewski's 903rd victory appear to be doing.

I don't blame Coach K for what happened at Penn State, but I do think that, especially given his reponse to the situation at Baylor, the kind of adulation that puts his college basketball program on a level akin to Penn State's football program shows that we haven't learned much from what happened at Penn State.

Staring on Veterans Day

2011-11-11T08:47:00.000-08:00

I suppose many who read and/or hear what I have to say on this blog, on The Agon, and in other outlets would easily characterize me as being anti-military. Indeed, I'm sure to folks like Ed Rollins, I fall right in line with "many in the academic world ... [who] don't like our military."

Well, I would respond two-fold to such a charge. First, if one defines the military as a war production machine that places an emphasis on the development of weapons of violence, which I think happens too often in the kinds of spectacle that accompanies much done to "honor" the military, then yes, I will gladly stand as charged. As someone who wishes for a world with less violence, then I'm happy to be characterized in opposition to an institution that is defined by violence.

On the other hand, I would also respond by arguing that the military does not need to be defined so broadly and deeply in terms of violence. I recognize that physical action in the name of defense is, in all likelihood, a necessary protection for a nation. Yet, defense can take many forms, a good variety of which do not involve the development of weaponry and the proliferation of violent action, while they do involve diplomacy, dialogue, and imaginative means of defending one's own nation without causing harm to others. Insofar as we see and represent the military along those lines, then I am supportive of the military and very willing to commemorate the contributions that our military institutions and the individuals who work within those institutions offer.

With that in mind, on this holiday of Veterans Day, which unlike days like Independence Day, is designed to commemorate the military, I am planning to watch what might be my favorite “military movie”: The Men Who Stare at Goats.

While I can understand why and how many folks might not find the film entertaining, I like it for a number of reasons. For instance, I’m sure that part of the appeal of the film is that I saw the film for the first time shortly after my mom died, and it prominently uses the Boston song “More Than a Feeling,” which I quoted in my eulogy at my mom’s funeral. So, I connect on a very personal level with the film’s use of that song. I’m also sure that the film appeals to me as a Star Wars fan through all of its intertextual references to the film series, starting with its use of Ewan McGregor as its lead actor.

However, it also appeals to me because it offers a sense of imagination with which I identify. While meant at least in part as comedy, it offers possibilities for the development of human capacities along metaphysical and mind-expanding lines, a lot like The Force in Star Wars. I find these possibilities both fascinating and hopeful, and so I enjoy how the film presents them.

Meanwhile, the film presents these possibilities in connection with the U.S. military, as objectives that might be explored and developed in the name of defense. And, in that regard, it potentially challenges the overly hyped, overly generalized, and very dangerous celebration of the military for its use of violent force. To me, that seems like a much more appropriate text for commemorating the military on Veterans Day than things like this, which ask us to stare in shock and awe at dehumanizing spectacles of power.

25 Years Ago Today -- You Don't Gotta Believe

2011-10-25T15:50:00.001-07:00

Do you remember what you were doing exactly 25 years ago today (October 26)? I can tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing because it was one of the most formative moments, if not the most formative moment, of my life as a sports fan. I was in Queens, New York, in the house owned by my dad's longtime friend John Schunke and his wife, Eileen, watching Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. My brothers were there with me, as were John and Eileen's two young children and a babysitter. My mom and dad, along with John and Eileen, though, were not. They were at the game.

We were all Mets fans, and when the Mets made it to the World Series (for the first time in 13 years), the Schunkes were able to get tickets to Game 6. None of us knew, of course, at the time that this would become one of the most memorable games not just in baseball history, but in U.S. sports history in general.

I'm sure most of you know the story of the game. Tied at 3-3 after nine innings, the Boston Red Sox took the lead with two runs in the top of the tenth. Then, the first two hitters for the Mets in the bottom of the tenth were retired, leaving the team that had won 108 games that season down to one out, and eventually one strike, against one of the most storiedly cursed teams in Major League Baseball history, as the Red Sox had gone 68 years since their last World Series championship. Indeed, the scoreboard at Shea Stadium flashed for a moment "Congratulations, Boston Red Sox, 1986 World Champions." But, that congratulations to the Red Sox would have to wait another 18 years. The Mets rallied back with that one out left to score three runs, with the winning run of Ray Knight scoring as Mookie Wilson's groundball to first base scooted through the legs of Bill Buckner. The Mets would go on to win Game 7 two days later and, of course, take the championship in the process.

I've come to realize in recent years that I think this led me for awhile to believe that destiny exists in sports. It seemed to me, the Mets fan (and I'm sure Red Sox fans have understandably very different feelings), that the Mets deserved to win the championship, having won 108 games that year, tying the 1984 Detroit Tigers (who also won the World Series) for the most wins by any team in the 1980s. And so it was ... they did win, in dramatic fashion. And for years I held on to ideas about sports teams being destined to win, something that I think also for a while influenced my views on the world in general. It was easy for me to believe that people who seemed to deserve success would get success--a firmly entrenched belief in the mythology of the American Dream.

Unfortunately, it doesn't always work that way, and indeed, even determining who is "deserving" and who is not is very much an ideologically loaded judgment (again, just ask Red Sox fans about my idea that the Mets deserved to win). So, as I experienced many disappointments in my life that the 14-year-old me never saw coming, and as I learned much more about the ways in which social structures embedded in discriminations on the basis of race, social class, gender, religion, sexuality, and other identities have worked, I came to understand just how often there is no such thing as destiny and just how often destiny itself is an ideological construction, often built in inequities of power. I mean, just look at the concept of "manifest destiny" that helped fuel 19th century U.S. expansion as an easily recognizable example of exactly how the concept of destiny fueled oppression.

And, so, I still enjoy my memory of Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. Identification with the Mets has been a significant part of my immediate family's bond with one another. And this is one of the most important experiences in the history of that bond, with the entire family in New York and my parents at the game. Yet, while at one point in my life (in the late 1980s and early 1990s), I could literally not help but grin ear to ear and start jumping around with excitement at seeing video highlights of the game, my reaction today is much more subdued. I'm sure that part of that is age, as the experiences of adulthood life have for me, as they do for many people, muted the ways of feeling and expressing excitement. Yet part of it (and this part, I think, can be related to those experiences of age) also involves growth. Today, it would seem so much more insensitive to Red Sox fans (pre-2004 Red Sox fans, especially) to jump and down like that and go on and on about my perceived sense of destiny for the Mets.

So, even without consciously thinking about it, I simply don't react like that anymore. Rather, a quiet smile, largely in connection with the family bonding that this event signifies, feels so much more appropriate, for counter to the Mets' longtime slogan "You Gotta Believe," which my dad told me after the game he yelled out when the Mets were down to their last out, and which I'm sure went through the minds and lips of many Mets fans at that moment, I don't have to believe in any sense of destiny in order to find valuable meaning in what happened. And if I believe anything, it's that I think that's the more humane way to remember the event.

Oh! What a Night!

2011-09-28T22:26:00.000-07:00

As the title would suggest, let's start off with a link to a particular song by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.

And, with that in mind, what a night it was for many a baseball fan, as the Baltimore Orioles came from behind in the ninth inning to defeat the Boston Red Sox, who were then knocked out of the playoffs moments later when the Tampa Bay Rays defeated the New York Yankees in extra innings, after coming back from a 7-0 deficit and tying the game with a 2-out, 2-strike solo home run by Dan Johnson in the bottom of the ninth inning. Meanwhile, the Atlanta Braves lost by one run in extra innings to the Philadelphia Phillies and thereby also lost out on the playoffs, finishing one game behind the St. Louis Cardinals, who won handily over the Houston Astros. For Boston and Atlanta, these capped off incredible collapses in the month of September. For St. Louis and Tampa Bay, this was the culmination of a month of climbing back into competition.

Still, this occurs amid conversation of expanding Major League Baseball's playoff structure, and that very prospect led a friend of mine to post the following:

Dear, Bud Selig.
Don't screw up the playoffs (See this season).
Signed, baseball fans

And, indeed, if the Major League Baseball playoffs worked like the NBA or NHL, where eight teams from each league made it to the playoffs, all four of the teams above would not have been playing to continue their seasons today. Rather, they would have been playing for home field advantage in the first round of the playoffs, while the bigger stories today might have been Cleveland losing but still holding off the Chicago White Sox to take the American League's eighth seed by one game and Cincinnati perhaps playing with a different game plan today as they fought to try to catch the Washington Nationals for the National League's eighth seed. Certainly, these could have still be dramatic stories, but perhaps they would have had a different meaning than the races do right now.

Still, as a potentially interesting exercise, I looked at what the first-round matchups would be if Major League Baseball followed that model. They would be:

American League:

Cleveland at New York
Toronto at Texas
Los Angeles at Detroit
Boston at Tampa Bay

National League:

Washington at Philadelphia
Los Angeles at Milwaukee
San Francisco at Arizona
Atlanta at St. Louis

Some interesting stories, perhaps, including the Nationals making the playoffs and some potentially exciting first-round matchups there. What do you think?

Laboring Through Some Thoughts Today

2011-09-05T09:48:00.001-07:00

First of all, Happy Labor Day, everyone! At a time when laborers are under what may be as great of an attack as they have faced in decades, now more than ever is the time to celebrate laborers. Unfortunately, unlike the ways that the U.S. media and institutions fall all over themselves to celebrate the military on Memorial Day (and somewhat misguidedly on Independence Day), to celebrate reasons to give thanks on Thanksgiving (despite the insensitivities of doing so), and to declare the United States a land of great equality on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day (despite the civil rights inequities that persist in this country), there seems to be an embarrassingly inadequate amount of celebration of laborers by U.S. media and institutions today. Indeed, with thanks to Korryn Mozisek for bringing this to my attention, some have even called out Major League Baseball for such a lack of engagement with Labor Day.

Meanwhile, on a related note, if you've read this blog in the past, you may have seen where I have taken issue before with things suggested by BG News faculty columnist Phil Schurrer. While I haven't written about them here, it is worth noting that I have had many more disagreements with things that Phil has said in his columns in the time since I wrote that letter to the editor (and also that Phil and I had an amicable lunch shortly after that letter to the editor).

I do, though, want to start this blog post by agreeing with something that Phil said in his column that appeared in the BG News one week ago. After spending the column largely extolling the virtues of "right to work" situations in which union membership is not required, he argues that mandated union membership and/or mandated payment of union dues limits the choices of workers. His argument thus suggests that "right to work" allows workers more choice in this regard.

I agree. Mandated union membership and/or mandated payment of union dues do place some limitations on choices, and if one has the right to choose to work amid a strike or other collective bargaining action, then, yes, one has more choices. However, Phil's broader arguments about this going against the supposed "right to choose" rhetoric of liberals and progressives is an unfair application of a principle of purity to a situation that is a compromise to begin with.

Namely, unions themselves are a compromise position with our system of free market capitalism. Indeed, though Phil associates unions with liberals and progressives, and that is the dominant association in U.S. culture, in some ways unions are actually a rather conservative approach to management-labor conflict. Unions ultimately help keep the system of capitalism in place, but they attempt to provide labor with a greater voice in determining their working conditions within that system. As they help keep the system in place, they are, then, by definition at least somewhat conservative--i.e., they help to conserve the system as it is already established, which is at least one reasonable way of defining "conservatism." They are one choice among many for addressing management-labor conflict and representing workers voices. Other choices could include such things as reconstituting the structures of organizations to ensure more involvement of workers in decision making, significantly more fully developed government involvement in the processes of management and labor in an attempt to ensure that workers' needs are being met, redefinition of the very terms "management" and "labor" that affect the structures of work life and decision making, and a whole host of other possibilities that would be more radical and less conservative than the establishment of collective bargaining organizations.

As such, as I have suggested, unions are thus a compromise position rather than a more ideologically pure position that would call for significantly more radical social, economic, and/or political change. Like all compromises, they involve give and take from the parties involved. As compromises, they by definition compromise the purity or principles, with the hope that the tradeoff is worth the compromise. So, then, yes, unions do limit certain kinds of choices, but they do so with the hope that the other benefits (which would, by the way, include access to many other kinds of choices by virtue of the opportunities gained through collective bargaining) outweigh this particular loss of choice.

Meanwhile, Phil is awfully selective in how he applies his critique here. If he wants to critique this compromise that unions make and suggest that the "right to work" should not be compromised by unions, then I'm certainly willing to listen. But shouldn't we then also be applying this to the opposite side of the labor-management distinction? More specifically, shouldn't we also then be demanding a "right to work" of employers (and particularly of corporations)? If unions must offer individuals the "right to work," then I would think it's only fair that employers offer that as well. In this scenario, employers who wish to lay off workers must offer employees the right to work instead of just laying them off. Additionally, employers must show just cause in terminating employment of individuals because, unless those individuals have done things egregious enough to warrant termination (like violating others' "right to work," for example), they have a "right a work." If we want to add that to the conversation, then perhaps we have a lot of potential for a productive conversation.

Of course, doing so would harvest the potential for a much more radical alteration of the very structure of management and labor in the United States. It would also contain much more potential to upset the balance (or, more appropriately, imbalance) of power that employers--especially corporations--maintain. Yet, wouldn't that seem to be exactly the kind of upset that we need?

The Ball is in Our Court

2011-07-25T18:07:00.000-07:00

If you get a chance, read Mike Butterworth's most recent post on his blog, The Agon. I'm not going to go on much more here because I think you can read much of what I might want to say from Mike's post.

I do, though, wish to add that, as an Michigan State University alumnus, I am not, despite what MSU Athletic Director Mark Hollis says, appreciative of the opportunity for the MSU men's basketball team to play in this game, in particular because I feel very strongly that it is inappropriate to stage a baseball game designed, in the words of Rear Admiral Dennis Moynihan, to be "a celebration of service to all veterans" on the U.S.S. Carl Vinson, which was the ship that transported the body of Osama bin Laden after he was killed during a U.S. military operation this past spring. Regardless of what any of us think or feel about bin Laden; the events of September 11, 2001; and/or U.S. military action over the past decade, the U.S.S. Carl Vinson is now inescapably associated with these things, and public events that use it for any kind of celebration of the U.S. military or U.S. foreign policy cannot be divorced from the cultural and political significance that the ship gained by becoming known as the ship that carried bin Laden's body. As such, its usage for this event strikes me as reflective of an arrogant insensitivity to the positions and practices of our fellow nations and cultures within the contemporary global environment at a time when reflective sensitivity to humane treatment of the various groups and cultures that make up the world would seem much more prudent.

Okay ... so I did end up adding a little bit to what Mike said, but I'll stop there and end by asking you to please join me in voicing concern about this event taking place on the U.S.S. Carl Vinson and requesting that the event be moved to an aircraft carrier that does not hold the kind of symbolic significance that the U.S.S. Carl Vinson does. I have called the MSU Athletics Department. I have emailed the Morale Entertainment Foundation, which helped organize this event. I will also be sending an email to MSU Athletic Director Mark Hollis. In each of these correspondences I have and will voice my concern about the ship being used and my request that the ship be changed. I ask you to do the same.

Contact information for Morale Entertainment, including phone number and email address, can be found here.

Contact information for the MSU Athletics Department, including phone numbers, a postal address, and an email link for AD Mark Hollis, can be found here.

Contact information for the UNC Chapel Hill Athletics Department, including phone numbers, a postal address, and an email address for UNC AD Dick Baddour, can be found here.

Charlie and Me

2011-06-30T20:31:00.000-07:00

Today was going along rather uneventfully. I had just walked my dog and was getting ready to run a couple of errands when my wife came home. Upon entering the house, she said that there was an unknown black and white "foofoo" dog in our yard. I immediately went to the front window, only to see that the dog had crossed the road. My wife and I looked at the dog for a moment, wondering where the dog came from, and then decided we'd better go get it before it tried to cross again so that it wouldn't get hit, particularly because we live on a busy street. My wife quickly gathered a leash at our front door, while we both slipped on shoes, and we headed out ...

We were too late. As we opened our door, our neighbor was carrying the dog up to the yard from the street. The dog had been hit by a car.

We rushed forward to see how the dog was. He was still breathing, but he wasn't moving, and there was a little bit, though not a lot, of blood. We quickly learned, while my neighbor went to get his truck to take the dog to the vet, that the dog belonged to my neighbor's mother-in-law, and my neighbor was watching the dog for the day.

I sat with the dog in the bed of the pickup truck on the ride to the vet clinic, trying to comfort him and to make sure he stayed alert.

When we got to the vet clinic, he was still breathing, and upon checking him, the doctor said he was responsive, but the doctor was worried about internal bleeding. The doctor took him back to examine him more fully, while my neighbor and I waited.

I learned moments later that the dog's name is Charlie and that he was only about a year old. Moments after that, I learned he had died. The accident had ruptured his spleen, and he had bled out internally.

I drove my neighbor home a couple of minutes later, and I stayed with him until his wife and daughter came home. He was, understandably, very distraught, and his love for animals came through quite visibly. Indeed, the fact that he let Charlie run around came from a certain kind of love. He said he didn't feel right locking a dog up in a fenced yard, like it was abusive for the dog not to be able to be free. How, he asked, would people like it if they couldn't be free?

As I'm sure anyone who has seen how militant I am about safety and protection around my dogs can attest, I have a different view. I also, though, decided that this wasn't the time or place to go into that. My neighbor clearly felt the gravity of the situation, and some comment by me didn't seem like it would be appropriate or helpful.

I maintained composure as I gave support to my neighbor, but as soon as I left and walked back to my house, I could tell the sense of loss was hitting me significantly. All day, I have been haunted by the image of Charlie across the street, perfectly fine, just moments from the event that would so abruptly take his short life. I'm reminded, as I was three years ago when my wife and I came across a cat named Mocha who had been hit by a car, just how fragile life is.

I'm also reminded of how good it is to love animals. I only knew Charlie for about five minutes, and I hope I was at least somewhat of a comfort to him in his pain and shock during the journey to the vet. I deeply wish that the result had been better--that he had survived, not for my sake, not for my neighbor's sake, not for my neighbor's mother-in-law's sake, but for Charlie's sake.

Pets are wonderful companions. Take a moment to cherish your pet. Then, don't stop cherishing her or him. As I learned all too unexpectedly with the death of my dog Nellie Fox last October, and as I was reminded today by my brief time with Charlie, our dogs, cats, birds, hamsters, and other pets deserve everything we can do with and for them.

Even Better than the Real Thing

2011-06-28T18:55:00.000-07:00

After years of claiming U2 as my favorite band, I finally saw them in concert in September 2009 at Soldier Field in Chicago (and promptly wrote about the experience both here and on Tunesmate). I enjoyed the experience enough to see them a second time, this time this past Sunday (June 26) at Spartan Stadium on the campus of one of my alma maters—Michigan State University in East Lansing, Michigan. It was well worth a second trip to see them during their 360 Tour, and I ended up liking this concert even better than the Chicago one. And that seems like an appropriate place to start this review, because “even better” is where the band started the show.

As the original recording of David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” played for the crowd to open the show, I’m sure I wasn’t alone in recognizing chords from U2’s “Even Better than the Real Thing” slowly making their way forward. Sure enough, within moments the band cracked into the song to lead off the concert with a set of four songs from Achtung Baby that also included “The Fly,” “Mysterious Ways,” and “Until the End of the World.” You can read more of my thoughts about how the show played out—and it was an outstanding show—in my other review, which I’ve posted today on Tunesmate. Here, though, in keeping with the spirit of this blog, I want to pick up the theme of “Even Better than the Real Thing” to analyze the show more in terms of the cultural and political contexts in which it works.

After going to the show in Chicago, I realized while heading to East Lansing how easy it would be to watch the band members as they are projected on the video screen rather than to watch them on stage. So, I initially tried to watch them on the actual stage, particularly since I was in good position to be able to see them all clearly on stage—to their right, maybe 80 yards from the front of the stage, nine rows from the field. Still, over and over again, the urge got the better of me throughout most of the concert, and I watched the video screen. Part of that had to do with the other images that the show projected onto the screen during songs, such as images of Aung San Suu Kyi during “Walk On” and of children’s artwork during “Miss Sarajevo.” Still, much of the time the video screen only showed the band … except that it didn’t only show the band. It showed the band in a way that looked more real than real—like high definition concert footage that brings out the vividness of colors and the movement within images to levels of intensity that my eye would not catch if I just looked at what was happening on stage. Thus, the experience of the show, mediated so largely through the video, was “even better than the real thing,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if the band and its promoters did that intentionally. After all, U2 did write the song “Even Better than the Real Thing,” and they have touched on that theme in other work as well. The visual experiences of the concert, then, are “even better than the real thing.” So, too, might be the political experiences.

As I mentioned on this blog after seeing U2 for the first time, U2 concerts clearly contain a number of elements designed to highlight political issues, including funding for AIDS research and relief, the work of Amnesty International, and, as Bono put it a couple of times in East Lansing, the general goals of “peace” and “love.” Yet, I could wonder the degree to which they even translate at the stadium. For instance, I consider “Walk On” to be a particularly poignant moment during the concert, as the band and the video screen bring attention to the story of Suu Kyi and, since her recent release from house arrest, the fact that more than 2000 people remain imprisoned in Burma under the same kinds of human rights violations as Suu Kyi was. Yet, much of the crowd around me took that song as a moment to sit for a break. Meanwhile, the tribute to E Street Band saxophonist Clarence Clemons that ended the show garnered significantly more crowd participation when Bono asked the audience to hold up cell phones in the dark in memory of him. I have no problem with the touching tribute to Clemons, but I have to wonder what’s happening when it receives a much great response than the tribute to Suu Kyi, other hostages, and the work of Amnesty International.

However, even if one isn’t so actively engaged in listening to the political messages embedded in the performance, it’s hard not to miss them, including a message from Desmond Tutu that we’re all “one” in the fight for freedom and human rights; a statement by Bono of how much he loves the “idea” of the United States of America; a dedication of the performance of “Beautiful Day” to Gabrielle Giffords, opened by a video recording of her husband, astronaut Mark Kelly, reciting some of the song’s lines; and Bono’s mention of prominent work on issues related to Africa that has been done at Michigan State University. So, it’s easy, to borrow a word featured prominently in the U2 song “Vertigo” (which was also part of the concert set), to feel socially and politically engaged during a U2 concert like the one in East Lansing.

Still, I wonder to what degree those experiences translate beyond simply cheering for them or listening to them at the concert. As I said in 2009, in the end I think that U2 bringing attention to these issues is a useful thing. I, for one, do leave the concert inspired to do more politically and socially, and I think to some degree I have followed through in that regard, even if indirectly. And, though the likes of Amnesty International probably deserve more credit for Suu Kyi’s release, I think it can be reasonably argued that almost a decade’s worth of U2 drawing attention to her situation probably helped. Yet, particularly given that the show still occurs within the context of the spectacle of the rock concert genre, and that it includes many elements that draw on the conventions of that genre, I can’t help but feel that the experience ends up providing for many an experience that they find “even better than the real thing.” One can pretty easily feel politically and socially engaged for a couple of hours, and leave thinking that experience made one a part of the larger struggle for issues like human rights, but in the end not really do anything other than feel that. To continue with the “Vertigo” reference, then, U2 concerts “give me something I can feel,” but I hope that for many of us it can translate into more than just that.

A Three Season Ride

2011-06-25T18:46:00.000-07:00

Two-and-a-half years ago, shortly after my wife and I started subscribing to Showtime, the network began to advertise a new show that was debuting in January 2009 called United States of Tara. Before the show even began, we looked forward to it. I can still distinctly remember during 2008-2009 winter break greatly anticipating the show's first episode before I even knew if I would like it, just based on my reaction to its previews.

That's typically a recipe for disappointment, since it's difficult for something to live up to that kind of expectation. However, the show did not let me down, and my wife and I have watched every episode over its three seasons.

The show isn't perfect. Its depiction of college experiences in the third season was seriously lacking. At times, some of the characters have felt a bit exaggerated. I'm sure people more qualified than I am could point out some critiques of the show's depiction of mental illness.

That said, I have enjoyed the show for its three seasons. I have laughed with much of the humor. I have often felt for the characters (well, a number of them, anyway ...). And, most of all (though, again, I'm sure there are some critiques of how it has represented mental illness), I thought that the show made at least a reasonably commendable attempt to address how people might work with mental illness rather than simply trying to bottle it up or stigmatize it.

Given all of that, I was disappointed when, a month ago, I found out that Showtime will not be renewing the show. I know that no show can last forever (though apparently The Simpsons is giving it a try), but three seasons just didn't seem like enough for the show. I felt there was more they could address with the characters and their experiences, and a couple more seasons would have allowed for that.

This past week the last episode aired, and perhaps the creators of the show realized that their future was in doubt when writing and filming the third season, since the final episode worked both as a season finale from which they could build a fourth season and as a series finale in the event of the series' cancellation. I felt a little sad when the episode ended. I won't be able to anticipate a new season next year the way I have looked forward to each of the first three seasons, and I suppose three seasons isn't enough when a show has met the high expectations I had before it even began. Still, to take a phrase from the show's theme song, I "love[d] the ride," and I'd recommend checking it out if you haven't already.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the White Pearl

2011-05-31T07:40:00.001-07:00

First, check out this picture of Penelope Cruz's character (Angelica Melon) from Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Then, check out this picture of Johnny Depp's character (Captain Jack Sparrow). Now, if you didn't look at this part of each picture the first time, look again, and focus your attention on each person's teeth.

I saw the film yesterday, and while I found the film generally entertaining, I couldn't help but notice a difference in the teeth between the two lead characters. For Depp, it's kind of hard not to notice this, as the film introduces us to his character initially by his teeth. When we see the stained teeth and gold fillings, we're supposed to know it's Captain Jack Sparrow. And, while, in reality, the kind of lifestyle in the 1700s led by a character like Sparrow would have likely produced teeth even worse than these, at least some attempt is being made here to represent some lack of oral care. For Cruz, whose character I would assume has also led a lifestyle that would not be particularly conducive to effective dental hygiene, even that attempt is gone. Rather, her teeth look quite solid, quite intact, and quite white.

Immediately upon noticing this, I reacted through the lens of gender performance. There are certainly many types of masculine identities that call for a full set of solid, white teeth. (Just look, for instance, at Indy 500 winner Dan Wheldon's reconstructed mouth.) However, I would surmise that there is more room for embodying forms of attractive masculinity with broken, stained, or crooked teeth than there is for embodying forms of attractive femininity. The differences between Depp's teeth and Cruz's teeth in this film would appear to support that assertion. Both have been characterized routinely as attractive. (Indeed, Depp was chosen in 2009 as People's Sexiest Man Alive.) Both occupy the lead roles in the film (with Depp first and Cruz second). Yet, the dental differences between their characters are striking.

Among other things, the study of gender asks people to look at the many various everyday and specific practices that reinforce differences between men and women and that, in the process, reinforce male privilege. In this case, the film reflects more rigid standards for women's teeth than men. When women are held to more rigid standards in regard to their teeth than men, it means more time and money for women spent in the care and presentation of their teeth, along with more judgment being levelled against women for the appearance of their teeth. At the everyday level, while men are not free of this concern, they don't have to worry as much about the brightness, straightness, and fullness of their teeth as women do in order to gain acceptance and opportunity. It is, then, one more on the long list of gender differences that perpetuate male privilege--one that, among others, is reinforced in Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides.

R.I.P. R.T.M.M.S.

2011-05-24T12:31:00.000-07:00

Let's play a game. In this game, I'm going to give you a set of initials and you need to identify the wrestler whose name matches these initials.

Here's an easy one: ATG. And another easy one: HH (Note: There's actually two answers: one very easy, the other not so much). And now: BTHH Or: JSS. How about PMWO, or RRR, or CBO? ... I could go on ...

And in the mid- to late 1980s, my brothers and I would go on. We all watched professional wrestling, and we made up this game as a way of passing time on long car trips, weekend and summer afternoons, and any other time we might be bored. I even made a master list at one point--probably around 1987 or 1988--that has long since been long lost. The funny thing is, I could easily start making a new one, and occasionally one of my brothers and I talk about doing exactly that, after we've played a few minutes of the old wrestling initials game. We could even add newer wrestlers to the list and have more available choices for the game.

Of course, if we add newer wrestlers, I'm not going to know very many names since I don't watch anymore, and I haven't paid much attention in about two decades. But, at one time, I would have known most of the names because I was a WWF fan.

I don't remember when I became a WWF fan. It had to have been around 1984 or 1985 or so ... maybe as early as 1983. I joined a number of close friends as wrestling fans who, like many of the boys at school, talked about the latest developments we witnessed on USA coverage of WWF (now WWE) wrestling on Sunday mornings (before Kung Fu Theatre) and on Monday nights, or alternately on TBS coverage of WCW wrestling when that league rivalled the WWF. I watched the Saturday morning Hulk Hogan cartoon in the mid-1980s. I still pull out my Jesse "The Body" Ventura toy figure sometimes when we talk about his successful 1998 Minnesota gubernatorial campaign in my political communication class. I went with a friend and his dad to a pay-per-view screen in Lima, Ohio, to see Wrestlemania II. A year later, another friend hosted a party for a bunch of us at which we watched Wrestlemania III via pay per view at his house. Again, I could go on, just as I could with the wrestler initials game. (And, by the way, here are your answers to the initials above: ATG = Andre The Giant, HH = Hulk Hogan and Hercules Hernandez, BTHH = Bret "The Hitman" Hart, JSS = Jimmy "Supefly" Snuka, PMWO = Paul "Mr. Wonderful" Orndorff, RRR = "Ravishing" Rick Rude; and CBO = Cowboy Bob Orton).

And, so, I join numerous folks around the country and the world who were saddened to learn the news the other day that Randy "The Macho Man" Savage (that's RTMMS in the wrestler initials game) died in an automobile accident at the age of 58. I don't know that I have a lot to add to the many things I've heard and read in eulogizing The Macho Man over the last few days. Perhaps ESPN's Bill Simmons sums it up the best in a piece posted today, though I will note that, unlike Simmons, Macho Man was not my favorite wrestler. Rather, in what is probably a sign that I took everything way too seriously as a kid just as I do as an adult, my favorite wrestler was the other guy (the winner, I might add) in Macho Man's classic match from Wrestlemania III, which until the last few days I hadn't realized was more than just my favorite match of all time. My favorite wrestler was Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat ... or, alternately, RTDS, for those playing along.

The Macho Man and The Dragon shared more than just that epic match. They also shared a space in the wrestling game that my brothers and I created. You see, you could do variations on names, including names without nicknames, to create another layer to the game. And, so, "RS" could be given, with two possible answers: Randy Savage and Ricky Steamboat (unfortunately, my name didn't count ...).

And, as Simmons notes about Savage, The Macho Man and the Dragon also shared the good fortune of having the height of their success coinciding with the height of the WWF's popularity. The Macho Man was able to sustain and build upon that success more, even becoming known beyond wrestling audiences in later years for his Slim Jim advertisements, like the one featured above.

In that commercial, Savage asks, "Art thou bored?" and "Need a little excitement?" Indeed, I was, and I did, and for a while in the mid- to late 1980s, Randy "The Macho Man" Savage (or, RTMMS, that is ...) helped my brothers and I remedy that situation. For that, I remember him fondly.

MLB Integration at 64

2011-04-15T18:19:00.000-07:00

Today marks 64 years since Jackie Robinson played his first game for the Brooklyn Dodgers, initiating the process of racial integration of Major League Baseball and, thus, opening the door for many African-American ballplayers to play in the majors in the time since. Still, within 15 years of that integration, the Negro Leagues were gone, and to this day Major League Baseball remains without African-American ownership. For more on this, please read my post on the subject from two years ago.

All My Children; All My Mother

2011-04-14T14:09:00.000-07:00

While I did not write a post specifically about it, I have noted on this blog that my mother passed away last May (May 14 to be exact). I've also noted in a blog entry a couple of years ago that I became attached in the mid-1980s to the ABC daytime soap opera All My Children because my mom, who was a loyal fan of the show since it began in 1970, watched it regularly.

After not watching the show much in the late 1980s, in the early 1990s, I got back into watching the show. My college roommate, whose mom is also an original fan, and I used to put it on every weekday in our dorm room while eating lunch, following the adventures of Tad and Dixie and Erica and Dmitri and Brooke and Edmund and so on. The show became so significant to me in connection with my mom that in 1995, when the show's creator, Agnes Dixon, gave a keynote speech at the Popular Culture Association/American Culture Association annual meeting, I attended Nixon's speech, met Nixon, and got Nixon's autograph (personally addressed to my mom), which I framed for my mom for Mother's Day that year.

Today, exactly 11 months after my mom passed away, ABC has announced that, as of this coming September, the show will be cancelled.

While I was initially surprised, I can't say that this is something that no one could have seen coming. Soap opera ratings are not what they once were, particularly because people have daytime cable options to watch instead, and the kinds of shows that ABC is proposing to replace All My Children as well as One Life to Live, which will be cancelled as of this coming January, typically have lower production costs. I, for one, haven't watched, but for catching a scene or two here or there, in well over a decade. Still, All My Children did influence my life, and it certainly means that another connection to my mom will drift into the realms of personal and collective memory.

In 1995, when I met Agnes Nixon, I thanked her for the hours of wonderful television programming that she created. Today, I thank her again for that and, more importantly, for the connection to my mom that her show has provided me. There's probably not much chance of this, since the show is likely to have its last episode on a Friday, not a Monday, but if All My Children's last episode comes on September 12, which would have been my mom's 65th birthday, it'll be hard to believe that my mom's not somehow involved.

Thanks, Nick, for the Memories

2011-04-11T11:32:00.000-07:00

Last week, CNN.com ran a story detailing the story of former sports anchor Nick Charles' battle with bladder cancer. He was diagnosed nearly two years ago, and while, as of this month, he has exceeded the life expectancy quote that he received upon diagnosis, he has stopped treatment, and it appears that it just a matter of time until he passes away.

As some of us surely remember (and some of us likely do not), Charles was one half of the main hosting duo during the heyday of CNN Sports Tonight, which once rivaled ESPN's SportsCenter as the place to go for a sports round-up show. While SportsCenter quickly rose to prominence after its debut in 1979, that rise did not happen without facing some challengers, and perhaps its stiffest competition came in the late 1980s and early 1990s from CNN Sports Tonight, which aired on CNN from 1980 through 2001. Over the years, Sports Tonight featured a number of hosts, including folks like Dan Hicks, Gary Miller, and Hannah Storm, who would become known later for their work on networks such as NBC and ESPN. Craig Sager, who stayed in the same corporate fold by moving on to TBS and TNT, also appeared on the show. And can anyone out there who saw the show forget the inimitable Van Earl Wright?

The main hosts of the show at the height of its run, though, were Fred Hickman (who would later go to ESPN himself) and Nick Charles. And, though I disliked that CNN's hosts tended to give away results before playing highlights, in the late 1980s and early 1990s I grew to like Sports Tonight over SportsCenter. I don't think I was alone, and indeed, I think it's arguable that the moderate success of Sports Tonight pushed SportsCenter toward bettering its broadcast to produce "The Big Show" with Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann in what might have been SportsCenter's finest time as well.

In the meantime, I have many fond memories at home with my dad and in the lounge at my college dorm watching Hickman and Charles, especially as they gave the "play of the day" each day. I don't know if there's any possibility out there that Nick will get to read this post, but in case he does (and even if he doesn't), I'd like to say thanks, Nick, for the memories. May you always know that you played a significant role in the development of this sports fan/sports studies scholar.

New Developments

2011-04-05T20:11:00.000-07:00

I have two new developments to report that relate to the kinds of things that I try to do on this blog:

First, as I noted a couple of weeks ago, I have begun a radio show with my friend and colleague Mike Butterworth that runs from 2:00-4:00 p.m. (Eastern time) on WBGU, which is 88.1 FM on your radio dial in the Bowling Green, Ohio, area and can be found online at wbgufm.com. After a month and a half or so on the air, we've finally come up with a name for the show: After Further Review. Mike explains the rationale for this name on this post on his blog, The Agon.

And, speaking of The Agon, Mike has invited me, along with some other colleagues who study sport communication (Dan Grano, from the University of North Carolina, Charlotte; Abe Khan, from the University of South Florida; and Korryn Mosizek, from Indiana University), to contribute to The Agon, which is a blog that focuses on "rhetorical contests of sports, politics, and culture." I will still be posting here about sports, particularly as sports connect to personal experience, but you'll also be able to read some of my thoughts on sports at The Agon as well.

The Future of Women in Auto Racing

2011-03-28T17:11:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, the Indycar Series auto racing league opened its 2011 season with the Honda Grand Prix in St. Petersburg, Florida, and a female racecar driver finished fourth. I'll give you one guess who that driver was....

... That's right. The correct answer to that question is none other than Simona de Silvestro. Now, if you're not an ardent follower of the Indycar Series, you're likely to be asking, "Who?" After all (and this was the basis for the very trick question I just asked), Danica Patrick is likely the only female racecar driver to register in the consciousness of most folks who do not follow the series. However, those of us who do follow the series are likely to know that de Silvestro was the Indycar Series' rookie of the year last year, finishing a very modest 19th in the standings but showing a lot of potential to improve upon that showing in future seasons, including leading four laps in St. Petersburg and garnering Rookie of the Year honors at the Indianapolis 500 with a 14th place finish.

For many folks, both among those who follow Indycar and those who don't, Danica Patrick has been a figure who brings out conflicting feelings. On the one hand, she's the most accomplished female driver in American auto racing, and those accomplishments are cause for celebration for the advancement of women in sports. On the other hand, the degree to which she participates in the very blatant and active sexualization of her public image has caused many of us to wonder if she does more harm than good. While other female racers, from Milka Duno to Sarah Fisher to Lyn St. James to Janet Guthrie, have participated in auto racing in general and Indy racing in particular without such overt active participation in the sexualization of their identities, none have had the success of Patrick, who won in Motegi, Japan, in 2008; finished sixth and fifth, respectively, in the Indycar points standings in 2008 and 2009; and has finished in the top 10 in five out six Indy 500 races, including fourth in 2005 and third in 2009.

Enter Simona de Silvestro. To date, she has not participated in such levels of sexualization of her identity. Meanwhile, she has shown significant enough levels of skill and potential in the racecar that we might reasonably think she has a bright future in the sport. Her finish this past week could be a sign of the progress she is making and the successes that the future may hold for her. It's too early to tell whether de Silvestro will continue to build successes in U.S. auto racing and/or will participate as Patrick has in the sexualization of her image, but if the past year (as well as de Silvestro's auto racing career before joining the Indycar Series) is any indication, we might reasonably believe the answer will be in the affirmative for the first part and in the negative for the second.

In the meantime, this may point to one other question that may be worth consideration. Namely, has Patrick's overtly sexualized image helped set the stage for the likes of de Silvestro (as well as Ana Beatriz and other women to come in the future of the sport) to seek and achieve racing accomplishments without such a sexualized image? In other words, perhaps the overkill of sexualization with Patrick's image has led to enough distaste for that kind of image that de Silvestro, Beatriz, and others will be evaluated much more fully just on their racing performances than on their sexualized identities.

Perhaps not. This latest development in the image of Serena Williams, as well as the continuing sexualization of the likes of Maria Sharapova and other female tennis players, may indicate that the overt sexualization of Anna Kournikova did not remove that aspect from the identification of women in professional tennis. However, at least for now, I believe I have a new rooting interest in auto racing: Simona de Silvestro.

Sports Talk Radio Show

2011-03-23T08:55:00.001-07:00

So, I have been really busy lately, which has meant little action on this blog. One of these days, I'm hoping to be able to build a good schedule and fuller momentum with this thing. It'll probably happen once I realize how to make blog entries here that are as thorough as I want them to be, but are shorter both in their length and in the time it takes to write them.

In the meantime, a few weeks ago, my colleague Mike Butterworth (who can also be found blogging at The Agon) and I started a radio show in which we apply critical, cultural, and rhetorical analysis to sports. It's on the air this semester from 2:00-4:00 p.m. (Eastern time) on Wednesdays on WBGU radio. That can be found at 88.1 FM in the Bowling Green, Ohio, area, or you can listen live by going to www.wbgufm.com.

Remembering Bob Arnzen

2011-02-03T07:04:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, while eating my dinner, I turned on ESPN and was instantly greeted with a whole bunch of coverage of "National Signing Day"--the day when high school seniors can sign letters of intent to play their sport(s) at a college or university. I felt instantly kind of disgusted at the spectacle ESPN was giving this day, providing it with a whole new level of status as a pseudoevent. Later, though, I thought a little better of it. At least this was (to some extent) ESPN hosts and analysts focusing on reporting events of some substantive significance, not the kinds of endless prattling about predictions, sensationalizing of comments made by sports figures, and arguing over such inane subjects as who or what is the best at something, how a game has affected an athlete's legacy, and so on. It's because of that kind of stuff that I can't typically stand to watch SportsCenter anymore. So, I supposed, at least this was a move in what might be a better direction--not great (you know, like showing more highlights would be), but at least a modicum better, I guess.

Still, on the whole, I found the whole event lacking in its value to me as someone who follows sports. I say this not wanting to offer some kind of moralistic jeremiad about the downfall of amateur sport or something like that. That's too shallow and idealistic of an argument. Rather, I offer this as an argument for rethinking roles and views of sports in U.S. society and for suggesting that the ultracompetitive impulse that so dominates contemporary sports might be de-emphasized to create a more joyful, inclusive, and meaningful experience out of playing and spectating sports, as opposed to the advancing of this impulse to more fully colonize sports, which is what appears to be occurring in such things as the narrating of big-time high school athletics as national rankings and contests for resources.

I say this amid other news from yesterday involving high school athletics that made some local news but did not make national news. Bob Arnzen, who coached boys basketball at my high school from 1949 to 1993, passed away yesterday at the age of 83. While I was in high school, Arnzen became the winningest boys basketball coach in the state of Ohio. That was the late 1980s, and in the time since then, he's been passed a few other coaches, so he now stands at fourth on the list with an overall record of 676-291. He was so significant to sports at my high school that upon his retirement in 1993, the school named its gymnasium after him. He was so well known in the area that news of his death has been covered in many outlets throughout the Lima, Ohio, area, with characterization of him as "legendary" prominent in the coverage.

Now, obviously, as my description just demonstrated, winning was part of Arnzen's legacy. In addition to ranking among the winningest coaches in Ohio boys basketball history, he won a state championship in 1983--an event that I remember fondly, as a fifth grader who that very year had gotten his first season ticket for boys basketball at the school. That team went undefeated. (I believe they went 28-0; well, actually, they lost their exhibition game against alumni, but they were undefeated in the games that counted.) After the season, the school had a pep rally to celebrate the team, and at the rally I got the autographs of the entire team--a piece of paper I kept for years and may still have somewhere in my aunt's attic with other stuff from my childhood. Arnzen also finished runner-up a couple of times and made the state semifinals a few more times, including my senior year of high school.

While I certainly remember some of those details of Arnzen's success in winning as a basketball coach, my memories of Arnzen tend to be dominated by other experiences from him. First, Coach Arnzen had a selection of ties in his office, from which he would loan out if a boy forgot to bring a tie, which was required for boys as part of the uniform at my high school. I remember once forgetting a tie as a freshman, and Arnzen graciously allowed me to borrow one for the day, as he would for so many other boys without judgment, concern, or favoritism. Second, as a senior in high school, once on a "jean day" when we could wear clothing outside the uniform, I wore a shirt my dad had bought me that said "Question Authority." While some faculty members suggested the inappropriateness of wearing this shirt, I received compliments from two faculty members on the shirt: Sister Mary Bernarda (who taught English to sophomores and seniors) and Coach Arnzen. I was struck at the time by the fact that teachers more aligned in terms of age with the Baby Boomers, who have become associated culturally with the kind of sentiment the shirt offered, objected to the shirt, while two of the older faculty members, both of whom came from the generation born in and around the 1920s, offered compliments.

These kinds of moments, much more than the winning basketball seasons, created my sense of who Arnzen is. That sense of the man is one of humanity. Generous, accepting, compassionate, open, humble even as a figure of authority--these are the characteristics that I associate with Arnzen based on my experiences with him. And these are the kinds of things that I would like to see emphasized in sports, rather than the often authoritarian, ultracompetitive, physically and psychologically violent frames through which contemporary sports tend to be filtered--the kinds of frames exactly used in the "meat market" kind of metaphor through which National Signing Day was covered on ESPN and in other sports news outlets. National Signing Day could be a day focused on the educational and professional opportunities men and women have available by signing to play college athletics, rather than the emphasis on which colleges have now garnered the greatest resources. However, the latter is what we tend to get. (For more on this kind of thing, though applied to a different event, I'd recommend Thomas Oates' essay "The Erotic Gaze in the NFL Draft" from March 2007 issue of Communication & Critical/Cultural Studies.)

I think that competition has a place in society, and sports may be an excellent place for that competition to occur. However, it seems that a humane society would ask that competition serve humanity, not the other way around. Much of what I see in the field of national sports emphasizes competition with humanity as an afterthought, though I think it would serve the world, the nation, and individual locales within the world and nation better if sports emphasized humanity, with competition as one facet of humanity that sports allows people to express. My sense always was that Arnzen knew and put into practice something along those lines. He certainly was competitive, but I didn't see that get in the way of being inclusive, being generous, and being gracious--in a phrase, "being humane." That's how I remember Coach Arnzen, and I'm happy to have the chance to remember him personally.

Remembering Paul Robeson

2011-01-23T10:30:00.000-08:00

If I started asking people, especially people born in the last several decades, who Paul Robeson is, I doubt I would find a lot of people who could tell me. Indeed, when I, while embarking on my Masters degree more than 15 years ago, took up more intense study of sports history, I didn't know anything about him going in. Yet, go back 60 or 70 years ago, and it's a very good likelihood that lots of people could tell you about Paul Robeson. Perhaps most prominently, Robeson was known to much of the U. S. public as an athlete and then as a singer and actor. By the early 1950s, though, much of that public--especially the white U. S. public--had developed a very negative view of Robeson based on association of him with work toward racial justice throughout the world, with communism, and with other political issues and institutions. Indeed, as I'm writing this, I know I'm not giving Robeson anywhere near his due, given that I don't have a lot of time today to compose this post, yet I wanted to get is posted. So, to read more on Robeson, check out here and here.

In the meantime, I want to post this today to note that today marks 35 years since Paul Robeson passed away. By the time of his death, he had fallen from prominence in U. S. culture, largely blacklisted for his political and social work. That blacklisting is why, though so many of us really should know about Robeson, so many of us don't. It's also a significant factor in why the reporters of news who like to mark 25th, 35th, 40th, and 50th anniversaries are much more inclined to tell us about the 25th anniversary of the establishment of Martin Luther King Jr. Day and the 50th anniversary of John F. Kennedy's inaugural address this past week, but not acknowledge the 35th anniversary of the passing of a U. S. American who, I would attest, deserves to be held with at least the same regard as King and even higher regard than Kennedy. Much of what Robeson said and did could have a lot to bear on contemporary political, economic, social, and cultural issues. With that in mind, on the 35th anniversary of his death, I encourage everyone today to learn a little or think a little about him and his legacy. I know I will being do so.

Some Thoughts on the Winter Holiday Schedule

2011-01-17T05:57:00.000-08:00

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day, everyone! May it be a peaceful, hopeful day of thanks.

As a number of posts on this blog have demonstrated, I think it's important to examine the politics of holidays. With that in mind, to mark Martin Luther King Jr. day today, I want to put forward my thoughts on reworking the holiday schedule of the United States.

First, let me begin by saying that it would make sense to have our major holidays in the summer instead of the winter. Weather conditions in the summer would mean less cancellations and less accidents brought on by winter cold and snow. That said, if we want to continue to have the major holidays in the winter--perhaps, for instance, because they bring some joy to what might be an otherwise dreary time of year, as winter solstice festivals have been doing for ages--then I think we should have New Year's Day take the place of Christmas as the major holiday for gathering with friends and family and giving gifts, and we should have Martin Luther King Jr. Day take the place of Thanksgiving as the major holiday for gathering with friends and family and giving thanks.

First, in terms of the Christmas to New Year's Day switch, New Year's Day would seem to be the more inclusive holiday. Since Christmas is a Christian holiday, emphasizing it marginalizes those people who belong to other religions or who are not religious at all. Now, certainly, we have elements of our culture that have tried to make it more inclusionary, emphasizing Hanukkah for Jewish folks, developing and celebrating Kwanzaa for folks of African heritage, substituting "Merry Christmas" with "Happy Holidays," and more. Yet, this all remains based around ways of accomodating Christmas for non-Christian folks--something that maintains the centrality of Christianity and, thus, marginalizes other religions and religious perspectives. Meanwhile, some Christian folks have fought against these kinds of moves. Every year some Christian folks voice opposition to use of "Happy Holidays" over "Merry Christmas." From another angle, some Christian folks voice concern about the commercialization of Christmas, arguing that by making the holiday a day focused on buying and getting things and emphasizing elements of the holiday like Santa Claus, the things that Christmas should signify get lost. By moving the major holiday from Christmas to New Year's Day, many of these concerns could be alleviated. New Year's Day is not tied so directly to a particular religion like Christmas is, so it is more inclusive of many different groups of people. Additionally, Christians who voice concerns about the secularization and/or commercialization of Christmas can then celebrate it as a holiday particular to their faith without so much of the secular generalization to include everyone else or the emphasis on buying and getting things. Christmas would be something that Christians celebrate in the ways that they see fit, with New Year's Day as the day that we all come together, give each other gifts if we wish, and celebrate our lives and communities. On New Year's Day, we look back at the year that has ended, remembering what has happened, while looking forward to what lies before us in the year ahead. That seems like a sentiment that matches up really well with families, friends, and communities gathering together and with giving and receiving presents--i.e., things that help us remember the past as well as things that we want as we go forward into the future.

Meanwhile, I've discussed the politics of Thanksgiving on this website before. As a summary, Thanksgiving reinforces a version of U. S. history that privileges perspectives and experiences based in white, European, Christian backgrounds, to the exclusion of perspectives and experiences that differ from that, especially those of Native Americans. Indeed, the traditional story of Thanksgiving can easily be read as one of hegemonic assimilation, with one group using "friendship," "community," "peace," and other ideas to sell domination to the group they are working to dominate. Meanwhile, though often understood as specifically situated within the movement for African American Civil Rights Movement, Martin Luther King Jr. Day is much more about the ideas of inclusion that supposedly are the basis for the United States as a nation. While King's messages especially mean a lot to many African American men and women, they have also resonated with many other groups, they have helped inspire many other fights against inequality and injustice, and they are largely recognized as being centered on peacefulness in a way that the characters from the traditional Thanksgiving narrative cannot signify. To me, the cultural meanings of Martin Luther King Jr. and the Civil Rights Movement provide a much more sound basis for a day of gathering with friends and family and giving thanks than the cultural meanings of the story of Thanksgiving. Martin Luther King Jr. Day can very easily signify thankfulness for the process of democracy, by which I mean, among other things, recognition that democracy is an ongoing thing; we must keep working to eliminate exclusion and oppression in order to create a society that more fully embodies a democracy. In doing so, we give thanks for those, signified by King but including so many others, who have worked to help us move forward in developing that democracy. By celebrating the process of democracy like that, we're celebrating what our nation as a community is all about. This would seem to me to be a much more appropriate place for a national holiday to give thanks and gather with the meaningful communities in our lives.

Of course, neither of these holiday moves is free of politics. Even with the greater inclusiveness of New Year's Day, the holiday is not entirely inclusive. For instance, not all cultures mark the beginning of the year on January 1. Meanwhile, while King often signifies progress toward civil rights, not all individuals agree with his message, and we might very well examine the politics of the "peace" that he promoted. Among other things, there are important arguments to be heard that suggest that King offered too much of a message based in assimilation to white society and, thus, celebrating a day commemorating him compromises the quest for equality and justice. I think these are important exclusions to note, consider, and work with going forward. Indeed, while making an argument about the ongoing process of democracy, it would seem rather disingenuous of me then to say that my plan alleviates these concerns and that we would not need to continue reconsidering the holidays we have even with the switches I propose. That said, moving the major holidays to New Year's Day and Martin Luther King Jr. Day seems like a step in the right direction.

Maybe If We All Stopped Trying to Go West ...

2011-01-12T11:58:00.000-08:00

Much has been written in the last few days after the shooting that occurred at Congressional Representative Gabrielle Giffords' "Congress on Your Corner" event in Tucson this past weekend. In particular, much discussion has placed rhetoric squarely into the center of discourse, articulating various questions and positions on the role of rhetoric in this instance and instances like it. See, for instance, this piece, from CNN's website, which actually cites rhetorical scholars Thomas Benson and Richard Vatz. Indeed, the central place of rhetoric and the word "rhetoric" in this discourse led me to feel overwhelmingly compelled to make this the example I used to introduce the Rhetorical Criticism class that I teach, which began with the new semester at Bowling Green State University this week.

Some have denied or refused to recognize a connection between rhetoric and actions like those of Jared Lee Loughner this past weekend, while still others have suggested holding off until a direct connection between something specifically said and what Loughner did has been shown, as if only an explicit direct connection provides any basis for calls to examine the significance and impact of rhetoric. Others, though, like Bud Goodall, in this post on his blog, have made compelling arguments for seeing why rhetoric is significant and important in an instance like this (and, for that matter, in so many instances in our everyday lives, including both the ordinary and the out-of-the-ordinary things that happen).

With that in mind, I found interesting that the number one film in the United States this past week was the Coen Brothers' remake of the film (and adaptation of the book) True Grit (something that has been partially the subject of another recent post by Goodall, by the way) While I have wanted to see the film, I have not yet had a chance to do so. I remember watching the original "John Wayne version" of the film as a kid, but I don't remember anywhere near enough about it to comment effectively on the film's story or ideological commitments. Having not seen the new film and not read the novel, I don't feel comfortable speaking much about either of those either. The connection I see, though, is a very general one. Namely, the story is a Western, taking place in the U. S. American West and containing many of the conventions that make a novel or film a "Western." Indeed, David Carr's review of the film in The New York Times calls it "a classic Western" and notes that the film's producer, Scott Rudin, has said that the filmmakers took a "formal, reverent approach to the Western" (Carr's words there, apparently paraphrasing Rudin). It's also not the Coen Brothers' first venture into the land of the Western, as their award-winning No Country for Old Men (also based on a book) also went that route, though it certainly was not a conventional Western. So, while I have not seen the film, I have it on good authority, based on my own general knowledge of what the story is about and my reading of what others have said about the film, that it invokes the mythology of the U. S. West. Now, there remains the question of whether in the process of invoking those mythologies the film offers a critique of them or reinforces them. However, even if critiquing them, invoking them to do so shows their significance in U. S. society.

I'm not going to go too deeply into the mythologies of the U. S. West here, as I'm limited in time and space, and I can make some good recommendations on where to go to read more about it, starting with Richard Slotkin's Gunfighter Nation: The Myth of the Frontier in Twentieth-Century America. Some elements of the mythology include the lone hero figure who both exists on the fringes of society and protects society from dangers beyond its borders; the rugged individualist cowboy figure who silently and with strength goes about his work (and who, notably, is white, male, and assumedly heterosexual, though there are some interesting queer readings of the character, as Jon Stewart pointed out while hosting the Oscars in 2006 when Brokeback Mountain was among the nominees); and the notion of regeneration through violence, which suggests that an act of violence can take care of a problem that society is facing and make everything okay again. These mythologies of the U. S. West have been very pervasive in and significant to the development of U. S. culture and society--something explicitly noted in historian Frederick Jackson Turner's famous Frontier Thesis from 1893, which argued that "the existence of an area of free land, its continuous recession, and the advance of American settlement westward, explain American development."

While Westerns constitute one of the most explicit forms of references to mythologies of the U. S. West in U. S. culture, they certainly are far from alone. Star Wars has been directly linked, including by George Lucas himself, to the mythology of the U. S. West. Star Trek explicitly references the frontier as part of its introduction. The theme song from the sitcom Mad About You called marriage "the final frontier." Plenty of texts and practices use horses, cowboy hats, guns, and other signifiers of the U. S. West as means of identification and promotion. Though not exclusive to the region, states like Arizona, Texas, and others in the U. S. Southwest draw on mythological U. S. West imagery to promote their states, bracket tourist experiences within the states, and identify themselves. A cowboy even appears on the Wyoming license plate, and a vista straight out of a Western, complete with mountains and cacti, appears on the Arizona license plate.

Amid all of this, politics is far from immune. Indeed, much political rhetoric has both explicitly and implicity referenced the mythology of the U. S. West. Much of this has been associated with the political right. Consider the many images of Ronald Reagan in his cowboy hat that circulated during his presidency. Consider John McCain's presidential campaign utilizing the word "maverick" to characterize their candidate. Consider the many uses of Western imagery by George W. Bush--something that Mark West and Chris Carey have analyzed in their essay "(Re)Enacting Frontier Justice: The Bush Administration's Tactical Narration of the Old West Fantasy after September 11" in Quarterly Journal of Speech from 2006. However, the political right is far from alone in this regard. For instance, Secretary of the Interior Ken Salazar is known for wearing his cowboy hat to conduct official government work.

I hope what I've mentioned at least goes a little way to show how deeply embedded the mythology of the U. S. West has been and continues to be in U. S. culture and society. It is, then, there that I see another connection to the events in Tucson this past weekend. I have no clue whether or not Loughner saw himself in any way explicitly in connection with a kind of cowboy or Western hero identity. Perhaps he fashioned himself more of an emo or Goth type. Perhaps he regularly watched Dexter or he regularly watched Blues Clues. Perhaps his favorite films were zombie films or romantic comedies. Perhaps in addition to the many books that have been reported that he owned, he also liked to read the work of John Grisham or of Neil Gaiman or of Jodi Picoult. Perhaps he liked to watch bowling on ESPN. Regardless, by virtue of being in the United States (and even if he engaged with the kinds of possibilities I have just listed), he was not only exposed to but at least in part socialized by many texts and practices that both explicitly and implicitly link U. S. society, culture, and identity to the mythological U. S. West and its ideologies of violence and often short-sighted pride in rugged individualism. In that regard, then, the rhetoric of the U. S. West that has been so dominant and foundational to U. S. society played a role in his socialization and, thus, him getting to where he is today. In a state like Arizona, which is among those that most explicitly links itself to these mythologies, that socialization is all the more likely. Rhetoric thus played a rather significant role in Loughner's actions.

And even if, by some chance, Loughner managed, despite their incredible pervasiveness, to avoid being socialized by the mythologies of the U. S. West, the deep identification with guns, which became part of the Bill of Rights because it was a large part of the frontier mentality at the time of the formation of the United States and which continues to remain high in U. S. culture today, aided Loughner in his actions. Among the many things that the U. S. Western mythology influences, it informs people's fascinations with guns (and, by extension, explosions, shoot outs, and so on in films), and it informs U. S. policies on gun control and people's positions on that issue. If not for the continued identification with what really is an outdated and in many ways overly romanticized way of life associated with the U. S. West, perhaps guns would not be as widespread or as available in this country, and thus perhaps Loughner would not have been able to get one (or to go with the extension to film I noted above, would not have been able to get access to other kinds of weapons and explosive devices). So, even if the rhetoric of the U. S. West in no way directly influenced Loughner (in itself hard to fathom, but perhaps remotely possible), that rhetoric influenced the attitudes, positions, and laws involving guns, weapons, and violence that pervade this country and that allowed Loughner to access the gun he used. Again, rhetoric did--and does--matter here, and it played a significant role in what happened this past weekend in Tucson.

Few can honestly deny that they think that culture and language--both of which are highly invested in rhetoric--play significant roles in socializing people. Indeed, while many on the political right have denied a connection between contemporary political discourse and the events involving Loughner's actions in Tucson this past weekend, many of these same folks have spoken of the need for a "culture war," have made arguments about how the word "hero" should be selectively applied, have decried what they think is the indoctrination of U. S. society through cultural texts produced by the "liberal media" and "liberal Hollywood," and have railed against the use of "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas." Their arguments on these issues don't work unless they accept the premise that culture, language, and rhetoric matter. So, they can't, then, genuinely make the kinds of arguments they've been making over the past several days about political discourse and the events in Tucson.

Critical studies of culture, media, and rhetoric ask us, among other things, to be reflective--to be willing to examine our own assumptions and see the power relations and ramifications of these assumptions. It seems to me that more reflection on the deeper mythologies and ideologies upon which U. S. culture and society have been built would do a lot more good right now than posturing defensiveness claiming not to be involved or connected. Given my thoughts here, I'm rethinking what I do and how the things I do might involve and reinforce the violent aspects of the U. S. Western mythology. As part of that, I'm rethinking, among other things, my interest in seeing True Grit. I don't think this is the only answer, but it seems like a useful path to pursue.

If I Had a 2011 Hall of Fame Ballot

2011-01-04T17:46:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow at 2:00 p.m., the announcement of who has been elected to Major League Baseball's Hall of Fame will be made. As I've made a tradition of doing here, I'm indicating for whom I would vote if I had a ballot. The first nine are easy. In rough order of how strongly I feel that they belong, they are:

Roberto Alomar
Mark McGwire
Rafael Palmeiro
Fred McGriff
Barry Larkin
Tim Raines
Jeff Bagwell
Bert Blyleven
Jack Morris

For everyone but Palmeiro and Bagwell, see last year's post. For Palmeiro and Bagwell, both fit into the no-brainer category for me. I know that, especially with Palmeiro on the ballot, a lot of discourse this year focuses on use of performance-enhancing drugs. There's much more I could say to elaborate on my position regarding that, but for now suffice to say that I think using that as a criterion for not voting for recent players fails to recognize the many ways that players of previous eras bent both legal and league-mandated rules to enhance their performances. I, thus, do not use that criterion. (Besides, if this really was a Hall of "Fame" and not Hall of "Excellence," Mark McGwire is the only no-brainer on the list, with only Palmeiro, Don Mattingly, and maybe Dale Murphy even worthy of consideration.) With that in mind, Palmeiro's numbers make him a heavy no-brainer. Bagwell is not as strongly definite. I might pause for a second and glance at his numbers just to make sure, but in the end would not have to think much about it at all.

Since the ballot only contains 10 slots, this leaves me with one slot to fill this year. Based on last year, Harold Baines would go in this spot, though it would be tough to choose among him, Dale Murphy, and Lee Smith. The same pretty much holds true this year, and I suppose I would pick Baines again, but that can change from minute to minute, which of course, means that I would, as in the past, need a bigger ballot. All told, if I could vote for as many individuals as possible, I would vote for the 9 above; the trio of Baines, Murphy, and Smith; and 10 others (in rough order of my assessment of their worthiness for inclusion): Larry Walker, John Franco, Don Mattingly, Alan Trammell, Benito Santiago, Dave Parker, Edgar Martinez, Juan Gonzalez, Maqruis Grissom, and John Olerud. Grissom and Olerud made the cut only after scrutiny of their careers and statistics suggested to me that, after initially leaving them off, they belonged with others whom I've included here and in the past. In all, then, if I could vote for more than 10 players, I would vote for a total of 22 individuals on my 2011 ballot. Obviously, I disagree with the likes of Rob Neyer, who suggest that "Exclusiveness is preferable to inclusiveness."

Among the rest of the names on the list, Kevin Brown is the first one left off the list (joining Ellis Burks and Jay Bell from previous years in this distinction). Like Bell and Burks, I might even be persuaded to include Brown. Indeed, even Neyer argues that Brown has at least a case for consideration. In the end, though, Brown falls just short. I would also give a little more consideration (in alphabetical order) to Bret Boone, Al Leiter, Tino Martinez, and B. J. Surhoff than to the list of remaining names. However, none of these players would make the cut.

2010-2011 College Bowl Game Rankings

2010-12-17T19:58:00.000-08:00

With college bowl season starting tomorrow (December 18), as typically happens at this time of year, any number of writers and outlets are offering their rankings of the bowl games based on appeal and interest level. For instance, check out Dennis Dodd’s list on CBSSports.com, Mark Schlabach’s list on ESPN.com, and Stewart Mandell's list on SportsIllustrated.com. As also typically happens at this time of year, these lists, generated from individuals and institutions heavily inculcated in the United States’ systems of power, are dominated by BCS bowl games and games featuring teams from the automatic-qualifying BCS conferences. Before reading these lists, though, I decided I would create my own list of bowl games based on appeal and interest. While surely serving as (and at least partially intended as) a kind of counterdiscourse in hopes of showing that legitimate alternative perspectives to the dominant and short-sighted national media context exist, this list is also true. I’ve truly ranked these based on how appealing and interesting I believe each game would be to watch. I don’t know how many or which ones I’ll get to watch, as I have quite a few other things to do over the next few weeks, but these are in the order that I find myself interested in watching them, from most interesting to least interesting.

1. Northern Illinois v. Fresno St. – After compiling the list, I read that Dennis Dodd says he's looking for motivation on this one. I feel sorry for him because time and again, as I ranked and re-ranked the games on this list, this sounds like the most exciting matchup to me. I watched part of the MAC championship game and the Fresno State-Illinois game a couple of weeks ago, and that experience makes me think this will be an exciting game. It’s too bad it's the first day. I guess it's all downhill from there.

2. San Diego State v. Navy – SDSU has, based on reports, been very good all year, and I have not had a chance to see them. Here’s a good opportunity to do so, though I am worried that if they are as good as the sense of them I’m getting, this could become a rout. Still, the appeal of seeing the Aztecs puts this game at number two.

3. Louisville v. Southern Miss – I’m not entirely sure why, but this sounds like a really interesting game to watch, I suppose largely to see Charlie Strong's team in action, though also because this seems like it could be an exciting game. I hope it was Strong not wanting the job at Florida that led to that institution hiring Will Muschamp, because otherwise it seems inappropriate. This is also a first-day game, which means that two of my top three are among the three first-day games. I guess it's really downhill after that. [Correction on this one: It wasn't a first day game. Somehow I got it in my head that it was while I was writing up the list, and then I forgot to double-check it later.]

4. Michigan State v. Alabama – Frankly, the only reason this is so high is because I received my Masters degree from Michigan State and, thus, I follow their sports teams. Having Alabama as an opponent makes the game remain interesting (as opposed to if this was Arkansas or Florida or something), since Nick Saban was the head coach at MSU when I was a student there. As an MSU fan, I’m worried that Alabama could blow out the Spartans. That’s largely based on historically being used to MSU being just good enough to get my hopes up and not good enough to fulfill them. This year’s team, though, has been different (or else they’d be 7-5 or 8-4 right now), so maybe that will come through in the bowl game, too.

5. Nevada v. Boston College – I watched the Nevada-Boise State game, and Nevada looked outstanding. They are what make this game very worth seeing. This game almost ends up lower because BC does little for me, though. With a different opponent, this would challenge for the top spot.

6. Utah v. Boise State – I’m interested in watching Boise State again, as I’ve found them exciting all year. I keep getting the feeling, though, that Boise State will blow Utah out, which drops this game a bit in the rankings.

7. Miami (OH) v. Middle Tennessee State – Of all the teams that made bowl games this year, Miami of Ohio is the only one I’ve seen live (when they played at BGSU in November). That pushes this game up from what would otherwise be a few slots further down. Still, both teams sound interesting to watch.

8. Illinois v. Baylor – Again, the Fresno State-Illinois game helps make this interesting. So does Baylor’s Robert Griffin.

9. Troy v. Ohio – This sounds like it could be a really close, and thus exciting, game. I’m sure very few lists have Frank Solich’s current team’s game higher than his old team’s game, but mine does.

10. Syracuse v. Kansas State – Syracuse has been a complete surprise in returning to the land of being decent. Kansas State has been up and down. Altogether, this sounds like two teams I’d like to watch play each other.

11. Wisconsin v. TCU – Watching TCU sounds like a lot of fun, but with Wisconsin as their opponent, this loses a lot of its luster. What keeps this appealing is that I’d love to watch the Horned Frogs blow out the Badgers. If that starts happening in the game, it’ll only get better as the game goes on.

12. Washington v. Nebraska – Only Washington makes this interesting, as I kind of like watching them—and not just because of Jake Locker. A game featuring Nebraska against a lot of other bowl teams would fall down the list considerably, even if Bo Pelini yelling at refs is kind of entertaining.

13. Penn State v. Florida – This just feels like a middle of the road kind of game. I guess it’s kind of interesting that it’s Urban Meyer’s last game before retirement, not Joe Paterno’s, and that’s what gets it up this high.

14. Hawaii v. Tulsa – This sounds kind of interesting, but watching Hawaii play in Hawaii always drops the appeal of a bowl game for me. This matchup elsewhere might inch up higher on this list.

15. Auburn v. Oregon – All three of the rankings to which I link above rank this game number one, but I see it a bit differently. I'm interested in seeing Oregon because what I have seen of them is exciting. However, Auburn does absolutely nothing at all for me. Oregon-TCU would be much higher on the list—probably in the top five. With Auburn, this game is just three spots above the middle of the pack, and that’s all Ducks.

16. Northwestern v. Texas Tech – This, like Penn State-Florida, seems like a middle-of-the-road kind of game. Fifteen years ago, my interest in watching Northwestern as it finally became good would have gotten this a higher ranking. Today, I’m kind of bored of them, and Texas Tech doesn’t do much for me.

17. Maryland v. East Carolina – This is a real middle-of-the-road kind of game, and it’s also where my interest level for games on this list starts taking a real turn toward getting really less interested.

18. NC State v. West Virginia – This game might be kind of interesting, but I’m not sure. It’s the game about which I’m the most unsure of my interest level, which is why it seems like a perfect fit for the exact middle of this list.

19. Toledo v. Florida International – Watching Toledo piques my interest somewhat, but FIU piques almost none, so this ends up just below being smack dab in the middle of the pack.

20. Missouri v. Iowa – I don’t mind the idea of watching Missouri, but Iowa makes this really gravitate toward the unwatchable side. And that’s not just my Spartan grudge against Iowa talking. I mean, I could actually handle the Hawkeyes beating the Spartans because I expected it, but then when they couldn’t hold on to beat Ohio State, and thus they cost the Spartans a trip to the Rose Bowl, they showed that they’re a bunch of ding dongs. But besides that, the Hawkeyes kind of bore me.

21. Michigan v. Mississippi State – I’m not particularly interested in watching the Wolverines (I wonder if you can guess why …), but Mississippi State makes this slightly more interesting.

22. Air Force v. Georgia Tech – Things are really starting to get significantly more boring here. These teams don’t do much for me.

23. Arizona V. Oklahoma State – Ho hum. This is only this high because the stuff below it is even less appealing. At least the idea of watching either of these teams doesn't make my skin crawl.

24. Miami (FL) v. Notre Dame - Can I wake up now? With Randy Shannon still as the Hurricane coach, I'd have a little more interest, but now, good night …

25. Oklahoma v. Connecticut – If you make this OU/Stanford, OU/Wisconsin, or OU/Virginia Tech, it would compete for the bottom of the list. Only the idea of watching Connecticut makes it palatable.

26. Virginia Tech v. Stanford – ZZZZZZ

27. North Carolina v. Tennessee – Major ZZZZZZ

28. SMU v. Army – I’m going to talk about this game and game number 29 together, because they’re very similar. I have nothing against Army or UTEP, but SMU and BYU actually bring big-time negative points to the table in terms of watchability.

29. BYU v. UTEP – See game 28.

30. Clemson v. South Florida – Oh my god is this getting painful …

31. Florida State v. South Carolina – Maybe I might be interested … No, I’m not …

32. Pittsburgh v. Kentucky – You wouldn’t believe what I just saw the paint on my wall do …

33. Central Florida v. Georgia -- I'm seeing a pattern with three of the last four games. Apparently, college football in Florida does little for me.

34. Texas A&M v. LSU – If game number 30 sounds painful, this sounds like more prolonged and intense contact with that pain. Additionally, I have no interest in fueling this whole “Mad Hatter” Les Miles narrative.

35. Arkansas v. Ohio State – This is unequivocally, absolutely the least interesting matchup of the lot. I couldn't care less about either team or a game between them. Ugh …

Remembering Bob Feller

2010-12-16T06:13:00.000-08:00

Word has been circulating since last night that Hall of Fame major league baseball pitcher Bob Feller passed away last night. As is to be expected, Feller's death has been met with a cacophony of tributes and memorials, like this one, this one, and this one, among a ton of others. I'd like to add my own to the chorus.

While I did not grow up a Cleveland Indians fan, I grew up in Cleveland Indians country. Well, it was largely Cleveland Indians country and largely Cincinnati Reds country, with a smattering of Tigers and Cubs fans here and there, and proudly oddball types who rooted for other teams, like me, the Mets fan, and my best friend while growing up, who was a Pirates fan. The local radio station, though, was a Cleveland Indians affiliate, so there was considerable identification with the Cleveland team in town. I imagine in large part because of this, Cleveland pretty much became my favorite American League team. This was also aided by the fact that I could feel for the disappointments of Indians fans--something that studying the Brooklyn Dodgers only made more pronounced.

So, of course, given that I was a big baseball fan and that I grew up in Cleveland Indian land, I knew very well all about Bob Feller. And so, getting the chance to meet and talk baseball with Bob Feller was a highlight that I can still recall pretty vividly.

It was in the spring of 1995, and I was attending, along with my dad and a family friend, a conference commemorating the 100th birthday of Babe Ruth, held at Hofstra University. In addition to us academic types, the conference featured a lot of media members, like Dick Schaap and John Steadman, and ballplayers, including Robin Roberts, Enos Slaughter, Phil Rizzuto, Roy White, Ryne Duren, Ron Blomberg, and a whole lot of more that aren't in the list that's just coming off the top of my head as I write. Bob Feller was also in attendance at the conference, and during one social event, I ended up standing right next to him, so I introduced myself, told him it was a pleasure to meet him, and struck up conversation about that year's Cleveland Indians team. I remember Bob saying that he thought the lineup was very good but the pitching was a little suspect. Of course, the pitching, though indeed a little suspect, held out, and that would end up being the year the Indians finally made it back to the World Series for the first time since 1954, when Feller was still playing for the team.

It's apparent from many things Feller has said that he and I have disagreed on a lot of things, like how to view Pete Rose's candidacy for the Hall of Fame, how to view contemporary ballplayers and how to view the military, how to view Muhammad Ali, and whom to support in the 2008 presidential election. Indeed, I think Feller and I have very different ways of seeing the world that are very much reflected in these differences in opinion. That said, there are moments of agreement between Feller and me (though I'm sure that at least in part we did not arrive at those positions in the same ways). For example, Feller was as early as the mid-to-late 1950s a critic of baseball's labor structure. Also, Feller, who is white, barnstormed with black ballplayers before major league baseball integrated in the late 1940s.

In the end, I'm not going to celebrate Feller as a patriot, a saint, or anything like that, as so many tributes are doing. Feller, like me, and like all of us, was a product of his times and his cultures, and I'm not going to gloss over disagreements I have with him or limitations I think exist in the opinions he has offered, nor am I going to overemphasize the things about which I agreed with him as if they constitute some kind of greatness. What I will say is that Feller was an outstanding baseball player--in my mind (and I know the minds of many others) one of the greatest pitchers of all time--and a person who seemed pretty down to earth ... at least down to earth enough to think nothing of engaging in a conversation about his specialty with a 22-year-old no-name like me.

Strawberry Fields Forever

2010-12-08T06:54:00.000-08:00

Today marks 30 years since John Lennon was shot and killed. I remember hearing the news as an eight-year-old kid back in 1980. More vividly, though, I remember six and a half years later, when my family, while on a vacation to San Francisco, went to a wax museum that included a figure of Lennon. In a response that I didn't realize I would see, my mom cried when she saw the wax figure of Lennon, and she said, "I can't believe he's dead."

I suppose I didn't realize my mom would respond like this for two reasons. First, I didn't realize how much my mom identified with Lennon and the Beatles. Growing up, I heard the Beatles a lot at home. My parents had a number of their albums. I loved the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band film made with Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees. We sang things like "Yellow Submarine" in my family often. My dad had a Beatles songbook from which he would play songs on his guitar. I associated much of this with my dad, though. Rock music was much more of my dad's thing, and so I hadn't realized that John Lennon might be so important to my mom as well.

Second, I didn't realize how significant Lennon was in general. I certainly knew that it had been big news when he was shot, and I certainly knew that the Beatles were typically considered the biggest pop music act ever. I didn't, though, realize how deep of a connection many people like my mom felt to Lennon and the Beatles until I saw my mom tearfully mourning Lennon six and a half years after he died.

Today, as I read stories and see headlines commemorating John Lennon on the 30th anniversary of his death, I'm brought back time and again to that image of my mom in the wax museum. I imagine my mom's death earlier this year plays a part in this. I also believe, though, that that memory would not have stayed with me for more than two decades had it not been something I associated with John Lennon and his death anyway. It's something I've thought of in connection with Lennon since it happened.

Though I was alive for eight years at the same time as Lennon, just as I was not fully aware of his significance then, I also was not aware of the many things outside of music that Lennon did, particularly the many political and social movements with which he aligned himself. I would learn that stuff very soon after the experience in the wax museum. It was, after all, that very summer that my interest in pop music blossomed, as I began following the pop charts diligently. By the next summer I was practicing on a bass guitar, reading and collecting books on popular music, and even occasionally buying Billboard magazine. I was quickly learning much more about not just Lennon and the Beatles, but also Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, the Doors, the Who, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, and so on, discovering more and more about both their musical contributions and their social and political significance. While I would eventually give up the dream of becoming a pop star (well, maybe not entirely ...), this interest became foundational for what would become my career studying and teaching about popular culture. My involvement with Tunesmate, built out of the bonding that my college roommate, who founded the site, and I developed through a mutual interest in pop music, is a clear manifestation of this (and, of note, I've posted about Lennon there today as well). I am, at least in part, who I am today because of the influence of Lennon and the Beatles, among many other music and popular culture artists, just as I am who I am today because of my mom, my dad, teachers, nuns and priests, relatives, and other specific individuals who have influenced my life and my interests.

And I think a continuing effort to become more aware through self-reflection has helped me understand these influences and interests much more fully. That self-reflective awareness rests at the heart of my understanding of knowledge and education. It also rests at the heart of my understanding of democracy. I think we grow closer to a vibrant, functioning democracy the more we willingly examine ourselves; seek out nuanced and complex understandings of things; admit the limitations of our own "faiths," "truths," and "knowledge"; and emphasize more what we don't know rather than what we think we do. My mom's reaction to the John Lennon figure allowed me to do some of that reflection. Remembering that experience today while reading and thinking about John Lennon is allowing me to do even more.

And that seems to be consistent with what John Lennon stood for. While I tend to hear about "Imagine" most in discussions of favorite songs by the Beatles and/or John Lennon, my favorite Beatles song is "Strawberry Fields Forever." One of the lines says, "Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see. It's gets hard to be someone, but it all works out. It doesn't matter much to me." I've always read the line as a critique of that kind of living, as if we are not supposed to live with eyes closed, misunderstanding everyone and everything else. My sense is that Lennon stands for quite the opposite of that kind of life. His was a life of seeking awareness, understanding, hope, and acceptance, not blindess, misunderstanding, and the oppressions toward which these can lead. And it's by keeping that in mind, in conjunction with my memory of my mom in the wax museum, that I choose to remember John Lennon today.

The Politics of Thanks

2010-11-25T06:41:00.000-08:00

Earlier this fall, I started watching the new NBC television program Outsourced, particularly because I wanted to see if episodes or segments of it would be useful for some of the classes I teach, especially International Communication. After the first episode or two, I didn't like it, feeling that it was relying on all-too-easy stereotypes of people from both India and the United States. I kept watching, though, and the show has grown on me. In fact, the opening of the most recent episode, "Temporary Monsanity," impressed me a bit with a discussion of Thanksgiving that occurs among the main characters, challenging some of the historically dominant ideas about the meaning of Thanksgiving and articulating questions about the consequences of the history of interaction between Europeans and Native Americans. The show raised nothing particularly new that hasn't been said before by various individuals and groups who have critiqued Thanksgiving, but it did articulate them in a very public, mainstream way, which I think illustrates something significant. I'm not sure that I would have seen this kind of discussion on a primetime NBC show twenty years ago.

I ended up talking a little bit about the clip not only in my International Communication class, but also in my Political Communication class on Monday. I brought it up in the Political Communication class largely because it shows that holidays are political. The meanings of holidays, the traditions that surround holidays, the practices in which people engage on holidays, and even what is designated a holiday and what is not all involve the processes of inclusion, exclusion, and marginalization that I argue are fundamental to politics.

Recently, I've seen many examples in which, given the insensitivity of the idea of Thanksgiving as a time to remember Europeans and Native Americans celebrating together, various individuals, groups, and institutions have chosen to divorce the holiday from the historical narrative and to focus the meaning of the holiday on a more general sentiment that it is good to have a day to be thankful for what one has, which often blends well with the idea of getting together with family, since family is often considered something to be thankful for.

I find this move to change the meanings of Thanksgiving reasonable enough. There would seem to be some merit to the idea of a day to be thankful, and it does mean at least some level of recognition of the insensitivity of the historical narrative toward Native Americans. Yet, that said, this practice is not without significant limitations. Notably, while recognizing the insensitivity of the historically dominant narrative, this view chooses to brush that narrative aside rather than engage it. In the process, issues involving exclusion and marginalization of Native Americans remain unarticulated and, to a significant extent, further removed from rather than addressed in public discourse. Additionally, articulation of the holiday as a day of giving thanks, even when not explicitly invoking the historical narrative of European-Native American interaction, more subtly reinforces that narrative by generalizing out from one perspective on that history of interaction--that of the Europeans who could be thankful for the privileges they have gained as they interaction has proceeded. In other words, by making the holiday a general one about thanks, the process of decontextualizing the holiday reinforces the perspective of the group whose experiences are being generalized for everyone, to the exclusion and marginalization of those groups whose experiences are not being articulated. Even though this kind of generalizing of the holiday's meaning might seek to be sensitive, it ends up reinforcing and extending the exclusion and marginalization of non-dominant voices and perspectives.

Given this, I think it is useful to articulate alternatives to the dominant meaning of this holiday as a day of "thanks." With that in mind, I choose to articulate this holiday as a day of "mourning." This holiday marks the 40th anniversary of the first National Day of Mourning, which was held near Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts, to remember the grief and loss that Native Americans have experienced in connection with European interaction. Just like the historically dominant narrative of the Thanksgiving meal between Puritans and Indians, this narrative can be articulated as a way to think about U.S. history. (Indeed, I would argue that this narrative is a more valid and valuable one than the Thanksgiving meal one.) And just like that historically dominant narrative, the sentiments associated with this narrative can be generalized. So, I choose to consider the consequences of European expansion for Native American civilizations, and I choose to generalize the meaning of today as "mourning" instead of "thanks," recognizing that with mourning comes an element of thankfulness for the time one has had with whom and what one mourns--a thankfulness that, at least to me, feels more properly contextualized when articulated as one aspect of mourning.

The Daily Narrative

2010-11-23T18:07:00.001-08:00

I've added a new website to the Links of Interest on this website. It's to H. L. "Bud" Goodall's blog, "The Daily Narrative." His analysis of cultural and political narratives on the blog is outstanding and well worth the read.

This Is the Liberal Media?

2010-11-09T07:58:00.000-08:00

If you haven't seen Bill Maher's critique this past week of Jon Stewart's Rally to Restore Sanity/Stephen Colbert's Rally to Keep Fear Alive, here's a link to it, but it looks like HBO is being very diligent in getting all copies of it removed from the Internet. So, that link may not work for much longer after I post this. Try, though, to find it if you can. It's about a six minute clip, and it is very good at indicating the problem with suggesting that U.S. politics features an extremist left and an extremist right that are equally empowered and problematic.

Maher's reation echoes much of my own reaction to Stewart's rally. While fundamentally this sounds like a cool idea that can both make a political point and provide comic relief at the same time (and there certainly appear to have been times that it did this), Stewart lost me most on two accounts. First, in the days leading up to the rally, he argued that this was not political. Simply put, that's pretty impossible at this point, and it is just as preposterous a statement as Glenn Beck's argument that his rally a couple months ago was not political. Based on their public personas, which are highly built in political discourse, neither Beck nor Stewart can construct public events that can be divorced from those political identities. Both, at least in their public life, have already been defined as political. So, the claim of being not political is disingenuous from either. Indeed, in both instances, this is a rhetorical ploy to try to persuade people that what they have to say transcends politics because if people believe you are not politically motivated, they might be more likely to be willing to listen to and consider your message. Additionally, as my political communication class can tell you, the statement that one is not political in and of itself is a political statement.

Typically, Stewart is, as Jeffrey P. Jones has written, more real than the "real" news because, among other things, he acknowledges his own constructedness in ways that other news programs don't. However, with this case, he's given up some of the credibility by not acknowledgeing his event as political.

Secondly, amid his summary of what the rally was all about, Stewart stated, "Not being able to distinguish between real racists and Tea Partiers, or real bigots and Juan Williams or Rick Sanchez, is an insult, not only to those people, but to the racists themselves who have put in the exhausting effort it takes to hate." Now, I think I get his point. While talking about how the media overdramatize everything, he's using this among other examples of how discourse in the United States focuses on these extreme and sweeping characterizations and categorizations. As he says just before this, "If we amplify everything, we hear nothing." In other words, it would be nice to have more nuanced, articulate, and reasoned accounts of things than the screaming drama that we get in the news. When it comes, then, to the specific issue of racism, he appears to be suggesting that if we lump out-and-out bigoted people with people who say or do things that are racially insensitive, we are making an error in judgment and statement. I suppose this is not a bad sentiment, but it misses the boat where racism is concerned. There already is the more precise language for discussing racism for which Stewart appears to long. Namely, it's what are called overt racism and inferential racism. Overt racism is when something is out-and-out racist, like the Ku Klux Klan or over-the-top stereotypes of racial and ethnic groups. Inferential racism is when the things one does are not explicitly about marginalizing or excluding based on race, but these things ultimately reinforce a system that maintains those kinds marginalizations and exclusions. (For more on these concepts, see Michael Omi's essay "In Living Color: Race and American Culture." For the example that I usually use in class to show inferential racism, see the case of Thomas Benya, where the school board, in deep ethnocentric fashion, failed to recognize that the style of dress they were imposing on Benya is a cultural heritage that they are assuming to be superior to Benya's Native American heritage.) Stewart's statement fails to reflect a deep representation of what racism is. Racism is not simply prejudice against or even exclusion based on race. Rather, it's a system that exists in society whereby power relations based on race are developed, maintained, and reinforced. It's not enough simply to call out the out-and-out racists. Really fighting against racism also asks us to look at how the very structures of society, the very ways we do things, and the very ways that people think reinforce racial oppression, exclusion, and marginalization. The kinds of things Stewart says are not racist actually do perpetuate racism. When this is not acknowledged, racism is reinforced and more fully entrenched. To get what I think Stewart wants, one needs to recognize the different forms of racism, not dismiss many instances of racism as not involving racism.

On a related note, the other day I watched the first couple of episodes of the new NBC show Outlaw, which stars Jimmy Smits as conservative judge Cyrus Garza, who, after some political and personal soul searching, resigns from the Supreme Court to pursue a law practice that takes on controversial cases, often with a sense of expressing some kind of moderate perspective that balances the right-wing ideologies he has practiced with the left-wing ideologies for which his father fought. The show has already been cancelled, and probably rightfully so. While not without merit as a premise, the first episode seemed really contrived (i. e., that a case made it to the Supreme Court without anyone finding particular evidence that was not that hard to uncover), the attempts at building romantic relationships are very weakly developed, and the characters themselves are not as multidimensional and well developed as they need to be for the series to succeed.

The second episode of the series involves SB 1070, the controversial immigration law passed in Arizona this year. In this case, Smits' character's firm agrees to defend a police officer who shot and severely wounded a man whom the officer believed may be an illegal immigrant. The episode offers what could be a very engaging and useful legal, ethical, and philosophical dialogue in that it asks the question of whether the police officer himself should be held responsible in a court of law for injuring this man when the officer was following what the law mandates for him to do by inquiring about the man's citizenship status. At one point, the case hinges on questions of racism (particularly racial profiling), and in the end Smits' character argues that the white police officer believing that the Latino victim walking around late at night may be an illegal immigrant was not racism, but "common sense." This occurs after Smits has, against his co-counsel and to the delight of the prosecution, stacked the jury with a group of people who come from demographics that would be seen as sympathetic to the injured man, not the police officer (e.g., Latino/a individuals, individuals of other ethnic and racial minorities, not middle and upper-class white folks). In the end, the jury decides, based on Smits' argument, that the police officer is not guilty. The idea here is that a "common sense" argument like that offered by Smits can persuade even the most potentially unsympathic jury.

The problem with this episode, though, is that it fails to acknowledge the link between racism and common sense. What is "common sense" is made of what has been accepted within a culture as basic knowledge about and understandings of the world that can be taken for granted as unquestionable. Yet, what is common sense in one culture is not common sense in another, and what has developed as common sense in a culture is highly influenced by the power relations in that culture. More specifically in terms of race, ideas about common sense in the United States--like the style of dress imposed by the school board on Thomas Benya--have been heavily based in white European cultural understandings and traditions, including beliefs about who constitutes a U.S. American person and who does not. As the show relies on this culturally constructed, nebulous idea of "common sense," it fails to recognize the inferential racism that that common sense already involves and, in the process, perpetuates the very racism it suggests we need to be cautious about identifying.

In the end, both Stewart's statement on racism and Outlaw's depiction of what constitutes racism reflect and reinforce rather conservative agendas. They both accept a status quo idea of what constitutes "common sense" and "sanity" that fails to acknowledge or even effectively engage with recognition of the power relations that influence what gets defined as "common sense" and "sanity." As Maher indicates, among other things, in his response to Stewart, "the big mistake of modern media has been this notion of balance for balance's sake--that the left is just as violent and cruel as the right, that unions are just as powerful as corporations, that 'reverse racism' is just as damaging as racism." In the end, you can't equate the effects and meanings of things when there are clear power differences between them. Stewart and Outlaw have both done just that, yet Stewart is generally acknowledged as ideologically tied to the political left; NBC, with its co-network MSNBC, is generally viewed as the most politically left-leaning major network; and as the account at this link and some of the response to it on its discussion board illustrate, Outlaw is apparently considered a show that is over the top in promoting left-wing propaganda.

Unfortunately, if Stewart and Outlaw count as "liberal media," then the real political left has little, if any, media representation. (Perhaps Maher is among the best hopes ...) On the other hand, Stewart and Outlaw help demonstrate just how baseless (and base) the "liberal media bias" idea is. As I've said before, I believe there is a "liberal" media bias, but it's already within a conservative frame, which makes it a moderately conservative bias. As Maher notes, when the right keeps staking a claim further to the right and then demanding to be met "in the middle," the middle is no longer the middle; it's the right. And, in the process, the "liberal" side of the media keeps reinforcing power relations rather than really making progress toward a fuller, more equitable and more functioning democracy.

A Race to the Top Twenty Years Ago

2010-11-03T15:42:00.000-07:00

As a chart aficionado in my high school and early college years, I was following closely, complete with subscription to Billboard, as Vanilla Ice's "Ice Ice Baby" became the first rap single to top the Hot 100 singles chart--a feat it accomplished 20 years ago today. That distinction could easily have gone to MC Hammer for "U Can't Touch This" a few months earlier but for a marketing decision made by Capitol Records. Since this occurred, I have always wondered about the role race played in the situation, particularly as the events reenacted a history of white artists appropriating black popular music.

Reflecting on this, I wrote an entry on Tunesmate today that I encourage you to read for more of the story.

La Vida De Los Muertos

2010-11-01T07:12:00.001-07:00

In the Catholic Church, today is All Saints' Day, meant to commemorate those individuals who have already died and gone to heaven. Tomorrow on the Catholic calendar will be All Souls' Day, which recognizes those individuals who have died but who remain in purgatory, awaiting entrance into heaven. In Mexico, today and tomorrow also comprise El Día de los Muertos (The Day of the Dead), on which people remember and pray for loved ones who have died.

Today also marks two weeks since one of my dogs, Nellie Fox, a beagle-dachshund mix whom my wife and I rescued from the pound in 2002, passed away. Nellie took suddenly sick on the weekend of October 16-17. What seemed like a possible stomach ache or potentially passing illness on Sunday, October 17, escalated in the early morning of October 18. My wife and I rushed Nellie to a local emergency vet at 2:30 in the morning. This would turn into a trip for specialized care in Michigan about an hour and a quarter away. What was a furious and panicked drive north, when it seemed like Nellie could die at any moment, became hopeful, when she made it, the doctors stabilized her, and then they planned for surgery. When my wife and I left to head back home around 1:00 p.m., we knew the surgery might provide bad news in the form of cancer, but we also had hope. Nellie was awake, lucid, and stable when we left her. A little over an hour later, she was gone. During preparation for surgery, Nellie's heart gave out and the doctors were unable to resuscitate her.

I have felt pretty devastated by the loss of Nellie Fox, particularly since my wife and I had been getting her regular blood tests and checkups. Nellie's death has also extended a series of deaths that have hit my wife and I over the last few years. In May 2007, our chihuahua-terrier mix, Turbo, passed away after kidney failure. A year to the day later, my wife's mom died of a brain aneurysm. Then, this past May, my mom died of pancreatic cancer. Indeed, the very weekend that Nellie Fox became outwardly sick, I had gone to Indianapolis to commemorate my mom. A family friend, "Uncle" Dick McGowan, and his son, Cassidy, made an altar for my mom as part of the El Día de los Muertos display at the Indianapolis Art Center.

As I have been reflecting on these deaths over the last two weeks, I have found some comfort in the idea of El Día de los Muertos. The idea of celebrating, remembering, and engaging with the dead seems too overlooked in the culture that dominates United States society. Too often, people die, and the world seems to move on without pause, without consideration, without reflection, and sometimes even without sympathy. My wife commented on this when her mom died, I've felt it with the deaths of Turbo and my mom, and I'm feeling it as strongly as ever with the death of Nellie Fox. More time spent engaging with the dead, holding the things that they loved, focusing on vividly remembering the times we shared with them, and doing things that recall or honor them seems like a very spiritually useful and rewarding thing to do, not just for those of us still alive, but also for those who have died. Indeed, "un día" seems too little. "Una semana," "un mes," and even "un año" seem too little as well. So, I am proposing to spend and dedicate much more of my life for the dead--"mi vida para los muertos." I've already begun by making sure that I eat a banana--one of Nellie Fox's favorite foods--every day, thinking of Nellie when I do it.

On a related note, in a week and a half I will join millions of other people in going to the movie theater to watch the new Harry Potter film, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1, which depicts the first part of the seventh and final novel in the series. The morning of the day it opens, my "Reading Harry Potter" class, which I am teaching for the third time now this fall, will undoubtedly discuss it (though restrain ourselves somewhat for those who haven't seen it yet). I begin that course with an essay by C.S. Lewis called "Meditation in a Toolshed." In that essay, Lewis discusses the importance of both "looking at" and "looking along." He says we must both "look at" things, by examining them from outside of their perspectives, and "look along" things, by seeing the world from inside their perspectives. He argues that both are valuable for understanding the world. While we do a considerable amount of "looking at" in the Harry Potter course, I also consciously try to make sure that we "look along" Harry Potter, discussing what a perspective from inside the Potterverse offers the world. Among such things, the Harry Potter series, including to a large degree that seventh and final tale, offers us some ways to comprehend and come to terms with death--deaths of loved ones, deaths of people we do not know well, and deaths of ourselves. In the book Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Albus Dumbledore tells Harry that "the true master [of death] does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that he must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying" (720). This comes six years after Dumbledore, in the first book in the series (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone) tells Harry that "to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure" (297). It seems to me that looking along these ideas asks us to take stock of death more fully in life, not necessarily charging into death, but accepting death and seeking to find greater communion with our own mortality.

So much of the struggle with death comes from fears--fear of the unknown, fear of loss of one's self, fear of pain, and so on--and I have held these fears of death strongly throughout most of my life. But with my mom, my dogs, my mother-in-law, others I have known who have died, and the ideas presented by J. K. Rowling in mind, I seek a change in how I live life, embracing the dead more fully as part of my life, living with death instead of attempting to forget or deny its existence. I've only begun this new adventure, and I do not know where it will take me as I live it, but I also realize that I do not need or want to know, for that would not be in the spirit of living and walking with death. And realizing that does seem to organize my mind and my life quite a bit.

Apparently, Some Still Think Greed Is Good ...

2010-09-24T03:00:00.000-07:00

Today, the Wall Street sequel hits theaters. Apparently, the "Greed is good" philosophy articulated by Gordon Gecko 25 years ago still has its ardent admirers. For a perfect case in point, see this opinion piece by Yaron Brook and Onkar Ghate on CNN.com.

On the one hand, I do have to give Brook and Ghate some credit. Many folks whom I see arguing for the advancement of the free market seem to act as if it is this wonderful, idyllic haven that allows for total freedom, which would include the freedom for individuals to develop their own moral codes. These proponents either fail to grasp or fail to mention that the free market system does set up a moral code--one of competition, adversarial relations, and the acquisition of profit, property, and capital. In a sense, these folks focus on the "free" part of "free market" without acknowledging the "market" part. At least Brook and Ghate publicly admit that the system contains and coerces people to follow a moral code.

On the other hand, Brook and Ghate are not as forthright as they could or really should be in discussing that moral code. Namely, they celebrate the industrialists of roughly 100 years ago for the progress that they produced, and they argue that big-money capitalists of the present day should be celebrated for making so much money, not for giving it away. In the end, they argue that "Science, freedom and the pursuit of personal profit -- if we can learn to embrace these three ideas as ideals, an unlimited future awaits." Unfortunately, they leave out that that future, while perhaps unlimited to some, is very limited to many. That time period of big-money capitalism that they celebrated also produced significant wealth gaps, exploitation of labor, and the foundations for the kinds of hegemonic control of middle and working classes that occurs today. Contemporary economic conditions and relations appear to reinforce quite readily many of those same kinds of things, with the kinds of anti-labor, unquestioning of business and capital attitudes to which so many of us have become socialized to subscribe; the continuing and increasing wealth gaps that occur both in the United States and around the world; and the many ways that business organizations hold control over people's everyday lives, both at work and in their leisure time. That emphasis on pursuit of personal profit--i.e., the idea that a society of individuals motivated by self-interest--not only reinforces, but expands the inequities already built into the system. Those who have power, capital, and authority have much fuller, greater, and more extensive opportunities to increase those things than those who don't. Thus, we get incredible wealth gaps. We also see, in the process, how oppressions on the basis of race, gender, religion, ability, and other forms of social identities are perpetuated and advanced by the very economic system that purports to espouse opportunity, as those with capital and power can use that to gain more capital and power, while those with less (e.g., women, non-white folks, non-Christian folks, non-wealthy folks, etc.) do not have such opportunities.

Meanwhile, Brook and Ghate leave out a really significant part of the equation--luck. Folks like ex-baseball executive Branch Rickey have been fond of saying, "Luck is the residue of design." There probably is some truth to that in that the more well-designed a plan is, the more contingencies it takes into account, and thus the more it can prevail through adverse situations or be in position to take advantage of serendipitous developments. On the other hand, as humans who are very limited in our capacities to see and know, we must depend on luck regardless of our designs. A poorly timed natural disaster, the development of a sudden debilitating health condition, unforeseeable incompetent or malicious actions by others, or any number of other situations can bring down even well-laid plans. Additionally, there is the element of being able to have the knowledge and foresight to design well in the first place. This involves the concept of cultural capital, as theorized by Pierre Bourdieu, which is cultural knowledge that a person who has can use to gain opportunities within a cultural system. I can work really hard and plan (i.e., design) really meticulously, but if I don't have the cultural capital to know how to take advantage of the system, it likely won't do me a lot of good. As so many of us are not raised in situations in which we can gain that knowledge as we grow up and then are so busy trying to make ends meet as adults that we don't have the requisite time to learn it once we have grown (or we're not allowed access to it based on some discriminating factors within the system), we end up unable to set up good designs and, thus, see pursuit of personal profit come to fruition--or at least as full of fruition as those who have already been given advantages.

In the end, as Brook and Ghate indicate, capitalism does invoke a moral code. It does not ultimately, though, seem to be one that's particularly consistent with a fuller, more working democracy. And, regardless of what they claim, the only "unlimited future" that I see awaiting in the system Brook and Ghate espouse is one for the advantaged, lucky few.

Douche and Turd

2010-09-09T20:04:00.000-07:00

Recently, fed up with my choices among Democrats and Republicans, I became associated with Dan La Botz's campaign for the Senate from the state of Ohio. La Botz is running as the Socialist party candidate for the Senate seat. As part of that involvement, I was introduced to and I signed the Petition for Inclusive Senate Candidate Debates in Ohio. This evening, I and others who signed the petition received an email message from Bruce Winges of the Akron Beacon Journal. This was the text of his message:

The Ohio News Organization generally follows the structure used by the Commission on Presidential Debates, which allows for only the major-party candidates to debate. The logic is sound: In a television debate format, when time constraints limit the number of questions and answers to be heard, it is of the utmost importance that voters hear from the two candidates who are clearly the front-runners for the office. While we have and will continue write about third-party candidates when warranted, including them in debates limits Ohioans' ability to hear answers from the top candidates on issues critical to the state's future.

I wrote back tonight, nearly immediately after receiving Mr. Winges' message. This was the text of my response:

Dear Mr. Winges,

Thank you for your response to the Petition for Inclusive Senate Candidate Debates in Ohio. While I understand the logical argument that you have articulated, and it is, as you claim, "sound" from a particular perspective, it is not universally sound. Indeed, this is the logic of privilege and oppression--a logic that many, myself included, would not characterize as "sound." By this logic, those who have great advantages in society are given the opportunity to further those advantages for the simple reason that they have the advantages in the first place. In the process, to quote an old line, "the rich get richer and the poor get poorer." Given, to echo your word, how critical this debate is, at a moment when the state, the country, and the world are witnessing a very significant set of crises that includes deep economic recession, environmental destruction, and escalation of significant and at times violent political animosities, among other things, there would seem to be no better time than now to include alternative voices to the two major parties--the very parties who have played significant roles in orchestrating the set of critical circumstances that we now face. If the Tea Party movement has shown us nothing else, it should illustrate that people on all sides of the political spectrum are not happy with the status quo of the two-party oligarchy. By not allowing alternative voices, particularly out of an argument based on the front-runner status of the Democratic and Republican candidates, you effectively help keep a pair of already aristocratically-endowed organizations in power. The debate becomes the latest in the long line of practices that hand over the reigns (pun entirely intended) to these parties through a process known as kingmaking whereby the political elites along with the heavy cooperation of media institutions, as well as cooperation of other institutions, have extremely high influence over the choices, proposals, and ideas available during an election--often to the point of determining these very things.

Additionally, this kind of practice constitutes exactly the kind of critique that candidates like Dan La Botz bring to table--namely, that the system of capitalism, with its emphasis on profit-making and the acquisition of capital, plays a significant role in reproducing power and equity differences, in diminishing the possibilities for a fuller and more effectively working democracy in which as many voices as possible can be heard, and in perpetuating the kinds of circular logical claims from within the system that keep people from getting real opportunities to see, express, or disseminate critiques that dmonstrate the problems incurred by the sytem of capitalism itself. This is what is called false consciousness and what is called hegemony in a nearly perfect nutshell, perpetuating the curtain over the eyes of the electorate, using appeals to justify unearned power differences so that the electorate--especially those of less privilege--accept these power differences, and keeping the country from finding a fuller democracy.

While I understand the argument that this is just following industry practice, I do not accept that argument. Indeed, as part of classes on culture and communication that I teach, students and I examine exactly how industry practices in all kinds of fields--especially, when we examine popular culture, within media industries--perpetuate status quo relations that perpetuate oppression. Relying on an argument of standard industry practice utilizes the kind of circular logic of oppression that is emblematic of capitalism--the kinds of circular logic to which I alluded above. Frankly, I am disappointed in your use of such a transparently flawed argument, and I urge you and your colleagues on the Ohio News Organization to reconsider your decision.

Sincerely,

Raymond I. Schuck
Bowling Green, Ohio

When I teach the class on political communication at Bowling Green State University, which I am doing this semester, during the first week we watch the episode of South Park from 2004 titled "Douche and Turd." In many ways, issues raised within the episode seem to relate quite readily to the above exchange. As I hope my response to Mr. Winges above conveys, I think there's more to it than what the episode of South Park suggests; however, I think the episode provides a useful starting point for discussion of concerns with the contemporary two-party system of politics in the United States. Those are exactly some of the concerns that these Ohio Senate debates will fail to address by only including the Republican and Democratic candidates.

More Big Brother Thoughts

2010-09-02T20:32:00.000-07:00

Last week, I posted some thoughts on the current season of Big Brother. Two days later, on the telecast on Thursday, August 26, the same kind of issue that I had addressed came up again. In this instance, when Matt was evicted from the house, during his post-eviction interview with host Julie Chen, he referred to fellow houseguest Britney as a "succubus." Instantly, Chen told Matt to "keep it clean." Matt responded by saying that the FCC allows the word, to which Chen suggested that that didn't mean it should be said on this telecast.

On the one hand, this draws attention to the inappropriateness of using some terms. So, in a way it addresses my point from my previous post. On the other hand, it does so in a way that doesn't really address the issue. Rather than simply stating that using the word is inappropriate under the same kind of "family programming" veneer that's been used on previous episodes, Chen could have allowed Matt his use of the word and then challenged his use of it, pointing out how it is derogatory toward women and how it reinforces the system of sexism in United States society.

With that in mind, I see this as a missed opportunity that ends up reinforcing the same kinds of things I brought up last week. As I mentioned, I'm very much for the liberalization of language use. To do otherwise keeps people from actually discussing and dealing with problems. In this case, Matt's use of a derogatory word is called out as inappropriate without explanation of why it might be inappropriate. All this reflects and teaches is a dictatorial kind of rule--i.e., "Don't do this because I said so." In the end, that doesn't address the systematic oppression of women that this term, along with other terms that continue to be allowed like "bitch" and "ho," reflects. In fact, given how much patriarchy has historically given the same kind of "just because" reasoning when women have attempted to challenge gendered oppression, it can be argued that this kind of treatment of use of "succubus" reinforces oppressions of many kinds (including gender) by reinforcing the idea that those with less power should not do or say things simply because those in power tell them not to, regardless of the legitimacy or illegitimacy of the reasons that those in power have for what they have commanded others to do or not to do. That, to me, seems like a very dangerous lesson--a lesson of brushing problems under the rug rather than dealing with them that leads society little of anywhere but continued hegemony, as the powerful maintain and grow their power because attention has been deferred from looking at the ways that power works, particularly as it works in oppressive manners.

I don't necessarily blame Chen here. She's asked by CBS and the producers of the show to fulfill a role within certain social and industry expectations. She's in a position where she could address the bigger issue of oppression, so it's disappointing that she doesn't. She's also, though, in a role where she could easily be dismissed should she articulate things that CBS or the show's producers don't like. Media companies, media industries, and the folks that own and run these institutions have a much higher degree of culpability. Of course, CBS is also subject to a bigger game of hide and don't seek, which is particularly acute for them since they were the network that received heavy fines by the FCC after the "wardrobe malfunction" in the Justin Timberlake/Janet Jackson performance during the 2004 Super Bowl. So, it is political and economic systems and institutions that are creating this kind of situation. And that just seems to suggest all the more fully that we need greater and fuller analysis and critique of the system of capitalism that sets many of the rules for life in the contemporary U.S. world. Of course, with these same institutions and systems developing even greater and greater influence over schools, media, and other educational experiences on all levels, that critique becomes even tougher to express and sustain.

And, as this occurs, to quote F. Scott Fitzgerald writing 85 years ago, "so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." Perhaps, though, I should be quoting George Orwell's 1984. After all, the show does take its name from that book, and the social critiques offered by that book seem to apply so readily to the whole situation.

Big Brother is Watching Out for the Whole Family

2010-08-24T16:50:00.000-07:00

I don't normally watch the television show Big Brother. Other than a few moments here and there in which I've happened across it and a couple times in the last two years when I put Big Brother After Dark on with no sound for something on television while I was working, I have never paid attention to the show, and I've certainly never become invested in the show in any way before. However, I am watching Big Brother this season because I know one of the contestants. Ragan Fox, with whom (as I've mentioned on this blog before) I went to graduate school, is on the show this summer. So, I'm watching.

There are plenty of things to comment about in connection with the show. The kinds of things that the competitions emphasize, the relationships between the houseguests and CBS as a network, and the ways that the producers edit and present the footage to produce the show are all ripe for examination. Among all of this, one particular situation has caught my attention.

A few weeks ago, when host Julie Chen asked Ragan what it was like to be taped to a wall in one of the competitions, Ragan responded by joking that that's just a typical Friday night for him. Immediately, Chen moved on, citing that this is "family" programming. In another episode, when another of the contestants--Rachel--cursed when frustrated during a competititon (and had this censored out by the network), Chen told her to "keep it clean." Clearly, then, the producers of the show hope to present this as "clean," "family" entertainment during the 8:00 primetime block, and they see joking about one's night life (I'm assuming especially for an openly gay man to be the one doing the joking) and using certain kinds of language as inconsistent with that image.

Given that, it's telling what does seem okay for "good, clean" programming. Notably, numerous guests have referred to women repeatedly and consistently as "bitches," while a group of guys who call themselves "The Brigade" have used the phrase "bros, not ho's" to declare their loyalty to their all-male alliance. Apparently, then, derogatory references to women--and the misogyny that comes with it--have become "clean," "family" programming on CBS. To me at least, that sounds a lot more damaging than vague allusions to sexual exploits on a Friday night and words like "fuck" and "shit," which don't directly attack people as these other terms do.

Now, we might argue that in fact the show is countering misogyny by depicting the users of the terms "bitch" and "ho" in unflattering lights, perhaps using this to convey the idea that using these terms is damaging and/or inappropriate. However, one look at message boards in places like this seems to suggest that that's not the kind of message a lot of people get from the show. Rather, there appears to be a lot of buying into use of these terms as okay.

I tend to be all for the liberalization of language use. I think we could use a lot more openness in terms of what can be publicly discussed and how it can be publicly discussed. I've argued things along those lines on this blog before. The allowance of terms like "bitch" and "ho" on network television has become part of that liberalization process. Twenty or thirty years ago, we wouldn't have heard these things on primetime network television programming. Yet, we need to be cognizant of the way that this process proceeds. Namely, it's telling what choices media programs and organizations make about what is now considered "okay" and what remains considered "inappropriate," particularly given how much footage from the Big Brother house is left out in the editing and arranging processes for the actual episodes that air. And it's telling what ideologies--in this case ideologies regarding gender--these choices promote and reflect. In this case, Big Brother sure seems to be suggesting that mistreatment of women, loyalty among men against villianized women, and verbal abuse of women are meaningful and acceptable aspects of regular and appropriate family life. The producers of the show choose what they want to portray to viewers, and these choices seem pretty misguided.

More Stupid Baseball Nicknames

2010-08-01T10:40:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago, I blogged about the ridiculousness of the trend of baseball nicknames following on the heels of A-Rod in which people combine part of the player's first name and part of the player's last name. I also suggested where this might lead, with Albert Pujols becoming "A-jols" and Pat Neshek becoming "P-Nes."

Well, I saw another one last night, calling Rockies' outfielder Carlos Gonzalez "CarGo." Obviously, there are a few different puns that can work with this name, but the same can be said for "V-Mart" for Victor Martinez and "Man-Ram" for Manny Ramirez. In the end, they all seem inspid. Yet, they seem to prevail.

And if that's the case, then I'm still hoping that Kevin Youkilis has a relative named Frank or Fred or something who makes it to the major leagues and provides one of these nicknames that actually has some appeal.

To the Left, to the Left ...

2010-07-19T07:29:00.000-07:00

How about if we start out with a bit of Beyoncé ...

A few years ago I came up with the following philosophy about contemporary U.S. politics: Most Republicans are jackasses, most Democrats are dumbasses, and most third-party and independent candidates try to be smartasses. And when you've got a bunch of asses, what they produce is a bunch of crap.

It was an attempt to be pithy, though more recently I'm thinking it may be too crass and generalized. It certainly suggests some things about my own ideological assumptions. That said, I still think there is something to the basic sentiments it's trying to suggest, and I think a recent situation involving Sarah Palin is a good example of this.

Apparently, Palin made a series of attempts on Twitter to comment on the proposal to build a mosque near the World Trade Center site in Manhattan. In the process, she said "refudiate," which is not actually a word. Some on the left have picked this up as a reason to make fun of her, suggesting or implying once again that this is further evidence that she is quite intellectually challenged.

Now, I am far from a fan of Palin. I think she has been embarrassing in her lack of eluctionary abilities, her apparent lack of even fundamental knowledge of things about which she speaks, and her continued use of simple rhetorical constructions that lack merit, consistency, and coherence. So, I can understand frustration that she has become a prominent political figure in this country. On the other hand, I think focusing energy on her use of "refudiate" is silly, petty, and actually damaging.

I make speaking mistakes all the time. Few, if any, people don't. In fact, during the 2008 election, when folks pointed out the many articulation flaws of Palin, many individuals on the right and in the media would then suggest how Joe Biden isn't perfect either, with reference to gaffes he made. This always frustrated me because making speaking blunders here and there differs significantly from consistently being unable to articulate much of anything with coherence. The former is entirely forgiveable as part of being human; the latter is typically a sign of incompetence. Joe Biden, I believe, fit the former; Sarah Palin, on the other hand, has consistently seemed to fit the latter. Perhaps she will improve. She may gain understanding of issues, learn the nuances of positions, and develop her elocutionary skills. Indeed, an appearance with William Shatner on The Tonight Show a while back actually impressed me. In the meantime, I believe that many of her recent statements and comments show that she still has a long way to go.

And this, I think, gets me back to the political philosophy with which I began. That philosophy called Republicans "jackasses" because so many of them seem so willing to use anything to gain and maintain power. They're effective at it, and they can be downright ruthless about it, not seeming to care about the consequences or consistency of the rhetoric they espouse. As conservatives, they also have power already on their side. The rhetorical concept of burden of proof suggests that in a debate the burden of proof lies with the party trying to challenge what is already assumed. Those arguing from what is already assumed enjoy the privilege of resting on that assumption until it is challenged enough to be questioned or overturned. Conservatism, by definition, has this power of assumption, and conservatives today quite readily use it, even when the things they say are ultimately inconsistent and incoherent.

Meanwhile, when Democrats get power or get good opportunities to use power, they screw it up over and over again. While freely admitting that this is tied to my own ideological leanings, I tend to think that the left has better ideas. No one's ideas are perfect, but when weighed rationally and with nuance, I think generally the left's arguments tend to have more depth. Indeed, that's actually something Republicans play up, though in a different way, with anti-intellectual rhetoric about leftist elites. In other words, pointing out logical inconsistencies and articulating nuanced positions become devalued, as if doing these things constitutes a problematic view of the world and a means of oppressing other people. Notice, though, that I say "the left," not "Democrats" when I mention these ideas. Two reasons account for this. One is that I think that for the most part the Democratic party in this country isn't really on the left politically. The second is that many of the Democrats I hear don't really go about making arguments for good ideas or don't go about doing it effectively, so I can't group them here. In other words, they're dumbasses.

Making fun of Sarah Palin seems like another instance in which Democrats and others reinforce that assessment. And, ultimately, I think it plays right into the hands of the likes of Sarah Palin and her supporters. Picking on instances like this provides fuel for Palin to continue to identify herself as a victim of the left and of the "lamestream" media, as she likes to call it. (And, by the way, I would argue that the media does have a liberal bias, as so many claim, but I would add the caveat that it's a liberal bias within what is already a conservative frame, which makes it essentially a moderately conservative bias.) Palin does have a long pattern of consistent inability to articulate herself that suggests a lack of competence. Maybe in some way using the word "refudiate" reflects that, but it's such an easy, everyday kind of blunder to make that I don't think it's a big deal, and I don't think a big deal should be made of it. There are plenty of much more potent examples to use to show Palin's apparent lack of competence that the argument does not need examples like this to make that case. To do so seems like it aids the narrative that she (along with her political advisors) has constructed for herself, and it allows her and her supporters to shift attention from the actual content of her statement, which I think is very problematic and the much more important issue here, to her image as victim of the media and the left.

Palin may be incompetent when it comes to solutions and complex explanations of contemporary social, political, and economic issues. She may be becoming more competent as she is learning more about those issues. She appears to be relatively competent at promotion and public relations, recognizing an audience to which she appeals and finding a way to keep appealing to it. Certainly, both of these types of competence play roles in contemporary U.S. politics. I think, though, engaging more with the ideas she promotes as much as possible would be the much more effective and much more humane path for the left. Perhaps, though, that's the problem with the contemporary left. In Ancient Rome, Cicero called rhetoric the combination of eloquence and wisdom. Perhaps the left needs to learn how to focus more fully on consistently stating any wisdom it has in more eloquent terms to make their statements more impenetrable from the anti-intellectual attacks of the right. Petty squabbling over use of the pseudo-word "refudiate" seems anything but this. Indeed, it makes one look like many Democrats look of late (i.e., like a "dumbass") or look like an elitist who engages in attacks on other people's lack of cultural capital as a means of humoring herself/himself (i.e., like a smartass). And whether it's Palin levelling it against Muslims or her detractors levelling it against her, I'm tired of all of the crap.

Independence Day: For You and Me, Not Just Some of Us

2010-07-04T10:51:00.000-07:00

“Ain’t that America, you and me …”

John Mellencamp, “Pink Houses”

When I attended spring graduation at Bowling Green State University, I was a little disturbed by the extra rounds of applause given to individuals whose military ranks were stated along with their names as they accepted their diplomas (well, the diploma carriers that would later hold their diplomas, anyway …). I did not join the audience in a round of applause that these students received while others did not. Now, despite what the likes of CNN contributor Ed Rollins (I believe very wrongly) suggests about academics simply not liking the military, I did not do this out of dislike for the military. I’m not a fan of violence, but I understand the usefulness for military, and I am quite happy to support the military in that regard. Rather, given that this was not a military ceremony, I did not believe military members should receive extra recognition. To do so, to me, seems to suggest that they’re more important than everyone else. And, frankly, I don’t think that’s true, and I do think that’s a dangerous way to think.

Now, I understand the idea that the military deserve recognition because they put their lives on the line so much more than other people. … At least I understand where that idea comes from. For some members of the military, yes, their jobs do demand this. However, there are two problems with this. While some are, many military are not really in direct danger of losing their lives on a daily basis. Additionally, this situation is not exclusive to the military. Many individuals throughout United States society put their lives in danger in their jobs, and I’m not just talking about firefighters and police officers. Electrical workers, individuals who work with nuclear and chemical waste, biologists who expose themselves to potentially life-threatening diseases and insects as they do research, and many other individuals risk their lives to do their jobs. Furthermore, individuals who have to work despite health conditions because they need the money to support themselves or they need to keep working to maintain health insurance risk the worsening of their conditions—and, thus, risk their lives—everyday. Many people also work additional jobs, take less vacation, and do other things that might lead to health conditions because they need to make ends meet. These people, too, are risking their health and their lives. So, it’s a false dichotomy to suggest that the military risk their lives like no one else does and that they therefore should be celebrated more than other people.

Now, this isn’t to say that we shouldn’t celebrate military members. We have days that we set aside for recognition of military—like Memorial Day and Veterans Day. Additionally, there are military ceremonies produced by military organizations that commemorate military accomplishments. At my mother’s funeral, the military gave a touching salute in commemoration of my mother, as she was a veteran. These are fine times to commemorate what members of the military do. However, that does not mean that commemoration of the military should be associated with everything. I do not think that college graduations are a time to advance military accomplishments above other accomplishments. I do not think that sporting events should be the place to use the military consistently and repeatedly as the means of showing national identity over other means of doing so. I do not think that military expenditures should be virtually ignored in discussions of the need to corral government spending. And I do not believe that the Fourth of July should be a military commemoration.

Does this mean that the military cannot participate in Fourth of July events or other events throughout the year? Absolutely not. By all means, let individuals who identify with the military contribute as such to these events. But these do not seem to be appropriate times to characterize military accomplishments over other kinds of contributions that the many of us give to United States society every day. While the Revolution that began the United States of America certainly had its military components, these did not work alone to produce this nation and the ideals of liberty and equality that the founders of this nation articulated, though they had not yet perfected and we have not yet perfected. These are the ideals that lay at the heart of our continuing mission as a society—the goals toward which we work that provide this country with the potential that makes it worth one’s commitment. And they are the ideals that we celebrate and seek to voice our continuing commitment toward on the Fourth of July. They are, though, as John Mellencamp sang in “Pink Houses,” ideals about “you and me.” We’re all in this together, and to suggest that a select number of us offer more important contributions than the rest of us is not just wrong, it runs counter to those founding ideals. In a word, it’s unpatriotic. If we suggest that academics offer more important contributions than anyone else, then we develop a system of elite aristocracy run by intelligentsia leaders. If we suggest that individuals who own and run businesses offer more important contributions than anyone else, then we develop a different kind of elite aristocracy, this one run by the wealthy and economically powerful. If we suggest that people of a certain religion offer more important contributions than anyone else, then we develop a theocracy. And if we suggest that the military offer more important contributions than anyone else, then we develop a military state. And all of these end results run counter to a democratic society.

The point is that so many of us contribute in so many different ways, and the ideals of democracy would ask us on this, the day to celebrate such ideals, to make sure that we commemorate that diversity, privileging none above the others, none at exclusion to the rest.

Let's No Mets

2010-06-22T18:46:00.000-07:00

I've oftened contended that part of being a Mets fan is taking pride in how much the team can really suck. Back in 2003, when the Detroit Tigers threatened to break the Mets' record of 120 losses, I actively rooted for the Tigers to win 5 of their last 6 to finish with 119. I didn't want the Mets to lose the record. I also have a measure of pride when I speak of "The Worst Team Money Could Buy" that finished behind the expansion Colorado Rockies and Florida Marlins in 1993. And, I'm proud that the Mets are the franchise that has the longest history without a pitcher throwing a no-hitter. It sounds like, from the comments in today's column by Danny Knobler about the Mets no no-no tradition, I'm not alone in thinking about Met fandom in this way.

Headline: Top Players Other Than Federer, Nadal, and Williams Sisters Will Play at Wimbledon!

2010-06-18T22:06:00.001-07:00

The first few lines of the story titled "Federer draws tough road for Wimbledon defense" on CBSSports.com state the following:

Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal face challenging paths to set up another Wimbledon final. Serena and Venus Williams also face potential pitfalls before another all-sister title match.

Six-time champion Federer and Nadal -- the only man to beat him at Wimbledon in the last seven finals -- were both handed tricky draws Friday for the grass-court Grand Slam tournament.

Let's see. We know, since it states these groupings could face off in the finals, that Federer and Nadal are on opposite sides of the bracket and that the same can be said for Venus and Serena Williams. Okay, but then, doesn't make the rest of this pretty much self-evident? Inevitably, folks like Andy Murray, Novak Djokovic, Jelena Jankovic, Francesca Schiavone, and all of the top players (at least all of them playing in the tournament) were going to be on one side of the draw or the other. The Williamses, Nadal, and Federer will all have to face "potential pits," "challenging paths," and "tricky draws." So, um, what's the point?

Oh, I know ... let's just state things in dramatic terms for the sake of drama, even when the things being said are inane and/or preposterous. And that, my friends, I would contend is one of the biggest problems with news reporting today.

House Rebuilt

2010-04-26T05:33:00.000-07:00

As people who know me well know, I'm a pretty big fan of the television show, House, M.D. Indeed, I even have a research paper on the show that's currently in (and, actually long overdue for) development. (The plan is to have it finished in early summer ...) As a fan, I can also appreciate some creative reworkings of the theme song for the show that have appeared on YouTube. Check out the following:

This one sets clips from the show to the theme song from the 1980s' hit show St. Elsewhere. It needs some work, particularly in making sure to have clips throughout and not to use clips with production crew and actor names randomly popping up, but it still seems to capture the feel of St. Elsewhere's opening montage while setting it to House, M.D.

This one reworks the theme song and opening montage to House, M.D. as Homer [Simpson], M.D.

This one reworks the theme song and opening montage as an opening to Spongebob Squarepants.

And, finally, this one uses the music that ends each episode of House, M.D. to rework the opening montage for an animated version of the show.

A Victory for Women?

2010-04-23T06:07:00.000-07:00

I know I'm a little slow on the uptake on this one, as it's almost two weeks old now, but better late than never, and you all know how life can get busy sometimes ....

Every year I go round and round about watching the Masters. As a fan of golf, I want to watch. The Masters, though, represents privileged elitism in so many ways. While part of it is the lack of female membership at Augusta, there so much more to it than that. (I think Bill Simmons summed a lot of it up nicely last week.) I'm thinking next year I'm going to go back to not watching. I get more and more sickened by the Masters the more I think about it.

This year, I watched a little coverage on ESPN on Friday while working at home, a little on CBS while visiting with my parents on late afternoon Saturday, and a little bit toward the end of the fourth round on Sunday. I probably would have watched the end (I left coverage when the final group had about a hole and a half left), but I had another, more pressing matter to attend to--namely, going to see the musical Wicked.

As I'm sure you know by now, Phil Mickelson won the Masters this year, claiming his third green jacket. And, particularly as a contrast to Tiger Woods' recently uncovered activities, the fact that Phil Mickelson had taken time off the tour last summer to be with his wife and his mother as both battled cancer was played up on the telecast and has been a significant theme in coverage of the event ever since. See, for instance, this column by ESPN's Rick Reilly, as indicative of the kinds of themes and claims that have been occurring. Rightfully, I think, Gregg Doyel at CBSSportsline challenged the extravagant claims of the likes of Reilly. I would agree with what I interpret as Doyel's sentiment. There are some good reasons to applaud and be happy for Mickelson, but let's not exaggerate the claims about his character with blind admiration when we don't really know what goes on his life.

I'm not going to rehash what Doyel says. Please read his article for more. I do, though, want to add something to the conversation, particularly in conjunction with the title--and, thus, the overall tone--of Reilly's piece: "Mickelson's win a victory for women." Seriously, Rick? A victory? I think I understand what Rick is doing, but I think I also understand that this is exactly the stuff that hegemonic power is made of. Where's the victory for women? A privileged man won a tournament full of other privileged men at a golf course that is very heavily built on and steeped in privilege, particularly male privilege in that it continues to lack female membership and took a very public stand against a private call asking it to address that issue by admitting a female member. And this is a victory for women because Mickelson took time off the tour last summer to be with his wife while she was battling breast cancer? Look, I think what Mickelson did was commendable. I also realize that many people (men or women) would not have the financial resources or type of job that would allow them just to take several weeks off like that. My mother is battling cancer right now, and I'm thankful that as a university instructor I have a schedule conducive to making the hour trip to see her fairly often. I also know that (1) I'm lucky to have that opportunity and (2) I'm still not in a position to take off work completely. I think I have it better than a lot of people along those lines. I also recognize I'm privileged to have that opportunity, and I should not take that for granted, particularly when interpreting the actions of others who are less fortunate. Mickelson enjoys even more privilege than I do, and his actions are at least in part the result of his privileges.

And it's on the idea of "privileged actions" that this all goes back to what this means for women. Let's phrase this story this way: A man achieves occupational success in a public arena of activity in which that success is achieved against other men. Indeed, that public arena of activity does not even allow women to be included or to participate. The man also takes care of his wife and his family, as his success in that male-only public arena has allowed him the time and money to provide for and care for them. This is certainly another way to characterize the story of Phil Mickelson. It's also a way of characterizing the story that points out how deeply the entire scenario is built in patriarchy. Saying, then, that Mickelson's win is a victory for women rings rather hollow. Sure, it might bring attention to breast cancer and provides an illustration of a man who did things that suggest care and concern for the most prominent women in his life. Yet, the entire situation patronizes and devalues women as it implies that men should provide for women and that women should accept a system of opportunities that both implicitly and explicitly excludes them and, thus, does not allow them as many opportunities to provide for themselves as it allows for men. Indeed, Augusta National Golf Club and the Masters golf tournament perpetuate a system that positions women to need the care of men. To then celebrate a man for caring for women within such a system does little to advance the cause of opportunities and rights for women. Mickelson's ability to play the role of the caring husband as a contrast to Tiger Woods as the unfaithful husband relies, at least in part, on this system of privilege. Mickelson's actions in winning the Masters exemplify that male privilege. Rather than a victory for women, then, Mickelson's win constitutes a victory for patriarchy, disguised to the likes of Rick Reilly by the attention it places on women in certain ways, though the very ways in which it places that attention on women actually reinforce and perpetuate the system of male privilege. That, in a nutshell, is hegemony--when the things that seem to provide opportunities or "victories" for the oppressed actually reinforce and help perpetuate the system that excludes them.

So, while I like Mickelson, I also see his actions in winning the Masters as privileged, and I recognize them as perpetuating the system of sexism in United States society. In that regard, then, I don't think that he, the many other golfers involved in the tournament, and the many fans of the tournament (myself included) are as "good" to women as accounts like Reilly's might suggest. Now, if Mickelson took another kind of action, like if he used his victory to call for Augusta National Golf Club to admit female members, if he donated a significant portion of his winnings to the National Organization of Women to help their fight against sexism in the United States, or if he did something else along similar lines, then I might be willing to call this a "victory for women."

It's Not Easy Being Green

2010-04-16T20:30:00.000-07:00

This post definitely needs to begin with a clip from Kermit the Frog.

This past Sunday, my wife and I saw the musical Wicked, which is currently playing at the Stranahan Theater in Toledo, Ohio. The show was awesome. We considered seeing it on Broadway while visiting New York with my wife's sister last summer, but couldn't quite afford it, so we saw Shrek the Musical (which was also very enjoyable) instead. It would have been fun to see Wicked on Broadway, but this show, which is part of its national tour, certainly was wonderful and highly recommendable.

I don't think it's a particularly ruinous spolier to say that Wicked revolves around the social derision and alienation the Wicked Witch of the West (Elphaba) experiences because she is green. Indeed, Elphaba and Shrek have that trait in common in their respective stories. From the beginning people find Elphaba's green-ness not just strange, but scary.

As the story proceeds, it asks the viewer to consider the ways that people who look different are treated. In doing so, it interrogates not only those differences, but also the rhetorical construction of the term "wicked." We learn that Elphaba is not really wicked, just as we learn in Shrek that Shrek is not really mean. As Wicked interrogates what makes someone become seen as wicked, along the way the play also interrogates what makes someone become seen as wonderful, namely in connection with the "Wonderful" Wizard of Oz. (I haven't read the Gregory Maguire book upon which the play is based, though the description of it on Amazon.com, including the characterization of it as "postmodern," would seem to suggest the same theme runs in it as well.)

This seems like pretty good stuff, particularly if folks, including kids, while watching it allow themselves to reflect on this message. In particular, both Wicked and Shrek the Musical seem to offer the message in a way that suggests that difference is something not just to accept, but to celebrate. It's one thing to offer the idea that even though people look, act or seem different from the norm, these people deserve respect and acceptance. That message, though, can still reinforce the norm as a standard by which people are judged and considered. In fact, it can easily turn into a kind of patronizing view of those who are different that still reinforces the idea that most people should still fit the norm and be the same. I think Wicked and Shrek the Musical take this a step further, though, when they suggest that we celebrate and seek difference and diversity. Rather than seeing difference as okay, this view sees difference as vital, cherishable, and desirable. Of course, the inclusion of this message does not divorce these stories from doing some marginalization. For instance, Shrek (both in film form and in play form) is, among other things, ripe for critique of its representation of blackness in the character Donkey. Additionally, among other things, Wicked would seem to warrant critique of its representation of individuals who use wheelchairs. These critiques deserve attention; however, that should also not negate the potential these musicals have for promoting a message of embracing diversity. Indeed, as one song from Shrek the Musical reminds us, "Let Your Freak Flag Fly"!

This all seems to point to the rewarding potential of popular culture. Popular culture can present in popular form ideas that can make us think, make us reflect, make us rethink, and make us change. Seldom, though, do these things occur without analysis and discussion. Popular culture is entertainment, and to a significant extent enjoying intertextual references to The Wizard of Oz, following a well-constructed story, and hearing emotionally powerful songs is enough unto itself. However, popular culture really, I think, often seeks (or at least allows for) more. That "more" only happens when we analyze and discuss it, looking at the messages and themes it offers, looking at the deeper ideas these messages and themes reflect, and recognizing the limitations of these messages and themes as they are told. So, I'd recommend going to see Wicked (or Shrek the Musical) and taking kids, especially as a way to get them interested in theater, but don't just stop at the end of the show. Talk about it, interrogate it, analyze it, and seek to understand its limitations. Despite what so often seems to be a popular sentiment, we can enjoy and critique at the same time. Indeed, I think democracy more fully thrives when we simultaneously do both. And so does popular culture. And so do we.

BGDB

2010-04-13T14:39:00.000-07:00

I'm sure many of us know dodgeball as something we did in high school and junior high school gym class, or we know it as the subject of a certain Ben Stiller/Vince Vaughn film. In recent years, though, a club circuit of college dodgeball teams has developed, along with an organizing association--the National Collegiate Dodgeball Association (NCDA). This year Bowling Green State University was honored to host the NCDA tournament on April 10-11. The tournament drew 13 teams, and Grand Valley State University defeated Central Michigan University in the finals to claim their third straight championship.

I had the opportunity to attend action on Saturday, along with my 10-year-old nephew, whom the BGSU dodgeballers were quite gracious in entertaining at times. If you have a club dodgeball squad around, it really is worth checking out. There's a lot more serious competition to it than the comedic representation offered by Vaughn and Stiller. And it's really exciting as well.

Despicable K

2010-03-26T21:28:00.000-07:00

In 2003, Dave Bliss, the head coach of the men's basketball team at Baylor University, engaged in some heinous acts, implementing a plan to cover up the murder of one of his players, Patrick Dennehy, by concocting a story that Dennehy was a drug dealer and that those dealings led to Dennehy's death. As this plan was developing, one of Bliss's assistant coaches, Abar Rouse, recorded a conversation with Bliss that would later expose Bliss's plan, lead to Bliss's ouster as coach and major sanctioning by the NCAA that may keep him from ever coaching again in college basketball, NCAA sanctions against the Baylor men's basketball program that included only playing a conference schedule one season, and a criminal investigation (though no formal criminal charges were initiated) against Bliss. For more on this story and Rouse's plight since the incident, check out this column by ESPN.com's Dana O'Neil.

One of the most striking elements contained in O'Neil's column (and plenty of other reports that have covered this story) is a quotation from Duke University men's head basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski. As Krzyzewski was quoted, "If one of my assistants would tape every one of my conversations with me not knowing it, there's no way he would be on my staff."

Now, I'm happy to reconsider my view of this statement should Krzyzewski demonstrate contrition for it or that it occurred within another context that would mitigate my concerns. As it looks, though, this statement is not only inaccurate, it's downright despicable. First of all, as I understand it, Rouse recorded one conversation with Bliss. He was not making a habit of repeatedly recording conversations, nor did he record "every one of" his conversations with Bliss. These points make Krzyzewski's comment inaccurate.

Secondly, and even more significantly, that Krzyzewski cannot tell the difference between what Rouse did and the kind of thing to which Krzyzewski seems to be alluding would appear to show that Krzyzewski has a very poor sense of judgment. I think I understand why Krzyzewski would be opposed to an assistant always or repeatedly recording him without his awareness. I would agree that that would violate trust that the head coach must be able to have in his assistants. Additionally, it would seem to reflect a suspicious degree of self-interest on the part of the assistant, who, assumedly, would be using this for some gain at the expense of the head coach. So, Krzyzewski's lack of tolerance for that does not bother me.

However, the case with Rouse and Bliss seems to be so clearly removed from that situation that lack of recognition of that difference suggests a similar degree of suspicious self-interest on the part of Krzyzewski. Namely, Bliss was doing things that were morally reprehensible, and without Rouse taping the conversation in order to have evidence to show Bliss's behavior, perhaps Bliss never gets caught and the story never comes to light. Indeed, given that Bliss was quite willing to concoct this story about one of his players (who had instilled his own trust in Bliss), it's not hard at all to see Bliss firing and publicly depicting Rouse as a problem (perhaps even concocting another story, this one about Rouse) had Rouse reported what happened to the NCAA without this kind of evidence. This seems so clearly to have been an appropriate thing to do in this specific instance that it's mind-boggling for Krzyzewski, at least based on the quotation above, not to distinguish between this and the situation I described in the above paragraph. In fact, it's not only mind-boggling; it's disgusting. In this context, Krzyzewski's comments make him sound so invested in imposing his own power on individuals whom he appears to consider subordinate and inferior that I have to wonder if he deserves to maintain that power--i.e., if he can be trusted to be using it in a fair and considerate manner. Correspondingly, I have to wonder seriously about whether or not Krzyzewski is fit to be in a position that makes him a guiding influence in the lives of his players and other individuals at his university. If Krzyzewski's judgment is a model to look up, what kind of world are we creating? Certainly, it would appear, not one that emphasizes practicing the kinds of good moral judgment about which we so often hear. Quite to the contrary, Krzyzewski wants to punish turning in someone who has done something that lacks regard for human life and decency. I also don't think he should be the the head coach of the USA Olympic men's basketball team. That's not in line with the kinds of ethic I want to represent my country.

I bring this up now because, after winning their respective games tonight, the men's basketball programs from Duke University and Baylor University will play each other in the NCAA basketball tournament on Sunday. Surely, much will be made of the amazing turnaround that the Baylor team has made under head coach Scott Drew, given where they were with their NCAA sanctions just a few years ago. However, I think this is the perfect juncture for a major line of discourse surrounding the game to focus on Krzyzewski's comments about Rouse from 2003 and what his lack of recognition of the good reasons for Rouse's actions potentially show about Krzyzewski.

Unfortunately, particularly given the deference that Krzyzewski (and many other sports figures) get from the media who cover them, I seriously doubt that Krzyzewski will be asked to confront this. At best, the issue might get a mention here or there in certain forums on ESPN coverage or in some columnists' work (hey, Gregg Doyel ... buddy ... this would be a great column for you ...). But CBS's coverage will likely steer away from it, most of the talking heads fronting ESPN coverage will likely steer away from it and/or deflect it if confronted with it, and Krzyzewski will be able to go on without really having to account for his despicable comments. From my very limited position, however, I will talk about this repeatedly and consistently all weekend. Perhaps that can count for something.

United States

2010-03-06T20:18:00.000-08:00

There is currently a move afoot at my university to start a faculty union. It's become a significant topic of discussion this year among faculty and administrators, of course, as well as among students. The other day, before class, a few of my students were talking about it and asking me a question or two about it, when one of them said something to the effect of "I think unions were important at one time, but they've outlived their usefulness." (That may not be verbatim, but it's pretty close.) That's not an uncommon sentiment to hear. I've certainly heard plenty of people say almost that exact same kind of thing before. And I think I understand the thinking behind it (though, that's not to say I agree with that thinking). People taking this view recognize that unions in the late 19th and early 20th centuries combatted horrible working conditions to make work a less oppressive place for workers. Yet, this view thinks that today most American workers are coddled and paid well enough that labor strikes are egregious and self-centered exercises led by labor unions, which they often see as bogged down in bureaucracy and institutional politics. Indeed, as a post I placed here in October noted, the very presentation of news stories involving labor negotiations often devalue unions and the interests of labor by their very wording.

The thing that I wonder after hearing the comment that labor unions were useful but have outlived that usefulness is why we only tend to hear it on the side of labor. When's the last time you heard "Corporations were once useful, but they're not really useful anymore" or "Businesses once served a useful purpose, but they have outlived that purpose"? And, ultimately, when as a society we are quick to question the existence of labor organizations and slow to question the existence of management organizations, what does that suggest about liberty and democracy?

Richard Marx and the Symphony

2010-01-24T09:40:00.000-08:00

I saw Richard Marx perform with the Toledo Symphony Orchestra last night (January 23) at the Stranahan Theater in Toledo. It was pretty rewarding. For fuller thoughts, check out my review on Tunesmate.

2010 MLB Hall of Fame

2010-01-06T12:36:00.000-08:00

The results are in for this year's 2010 Major League Baseball Hall of Fame, and Andre Dawson will be the lone inductee from this ballot, much to the surprise of many who believed that at least Roberto Alomar would and should be there.

As I did last year, I'm posting whom I would vote for if I had a vote for the Hall of Fame. As I mentioned last year, I tend to be pretty inclusive in my voting. Here goes, by category:

Unequivocally, I'd vote for them (6 players): Roberto Alomar, Andre Dawson, Barry Larkin, Fred McGriff, Mark McGwire, and Tim Raines. I offered explanation on Dawson, McGwire, and Raines last year. Alomar is, in all likelihood, one of the best second basemen ever and, thus, belongs here as the biggest no-brainer of this year's ballot. Larkin's performance impressed me throughout the 1990s and, while perhaps in some areas his final career statistics are not as gaudy as some other players', Larkin seemed to me to be among the best players in the game throughout much of his career. I think the same can be said for Fred McGriff, who maintained a high level of consistency from the late 1980s through early 2000s.

Not quite completely unequivocal, but pretty close (2 players): Bert Blyleven and Jack Morris. In both cases, I don't automatically think of them as in the way I do the 6 players above. I do at least think about it once again before putting them on the list. However, it doesn't take me much consideration to put them down. For more explanation, see last year's post.

Vying for slots 9-10 (8 players): Harold Baines, Andres Galarraga, Edgar Martinez, Don Mattingly, Dale Murphy, Dave Parker, Lee Smith, and Alan Trammell. First of all, let me say that anyone who wonders how someone can leave a player off a ballot one year and then vote for the player the next needs a refresher course in how fundamental mathematics works. For instance, check out the third factor guiding his ballot offered by Stan McNeal of The Sporting News in this column from January 4: "If I didn't vote for a player the first time he was eligible, I would not vote for him at all. Talking with Eric Davis reinforced this thinking. He told me that Pete Rose told him, "You're either a Hall of Famer or you're not." As Davis pointed out, "There's nothing you can do after you stop playing to move the elevator up." The problem with this kind of logic (well, besides taking tips on logical explanation from the likes of Pete Rose and Eric Davis ...) is that when the ballot limits someone to only 10 players, you could have situations in which someone you feel is worthy gets left off your ballot. Mathematically, it's impossible to vote for 11 or 12 players when you're only allowed to vote for up to 10. Of course, McNeal's saving grace is that few sportswriters have as inclusive of standards as I do, so when they only vote for 4, 5, 6, 7, or so players, they have not maximized their ballot slots and, thus, might be subject to this critique (though, I think there's a misguided error of perceived omniscience embedded in McNeal's supposition, as if humans should make decisions and stick to them without being willing to be self-reflexive and reconsider how they went about making those decisions and judgments, when, indeed, none of us can really claim to know everything and, thus, be able to make decisions and judgments without possibility for further reconsideration down the road).

With that in mind, because of the ways the ballot goes, I had 3 slots at the bottom of my ballot last year after the sure or nearly-sure things, but this year I only have 2? The reasons? Last year, Rickey Henderson and Jim Rice made the Hall of Fame, which means two slots are open from my ballot from last year; however, with the additions of Roberto Alomar, Barry Larkin, and Fred McGriff, three slots are now taken that weren't last year, leaving me with a net loss of one spot on my ballot. Thus, one person I would have voted for last year would not be able to make it this year. And, indeed, it's one of my bottom three from last year who wouldn't make it this year. Last year, the final three slots went to Harold Baines, Dale Murphy, and Lee Smith, in roughly that order, though, as I said last year, who makes my final slots can vary from day to day. This year, as I'm writing this post, I know slots 9 and 10 on my ballot would come from this group of three players, but which two of the three get in is changing literally as I write each sentence. I think, in the final analysis, I'd go with Harold Baines at slot 9 and Lee Smith at slot 10 (though, by the end of this blog, maybe Smith would be replaced by Murphy ...). If I could vote for an unlimited number of players, then I'd vote for 16, with the other 5 players listed here added to those I've already discussed. Galarraga would be the last one in and would be the only one among this group who might not make it. Still, when I look at his numbers, he's comparable in a number of ways to Murphy and seems to belong in a tighly-packed bunch that also includes Martinez, Mattingly, and Parker. I'd put Trammell in, but with the thought that he doesn't belong there without Lou Whitaker, who I think got screwed years ago on his first time on the ballot (and, hopefully, I'll write more on that in a blog entry in the next week or so, if time permits ...)

Would not make my ballot (10 players): Kevin Appier, Ellis Burks, Pat Hentgen, Mike Jackson, Eric Karros, Ray Lankford, Shane Reynolds, David Segui, Robin Ventura, Todd Zeile. I actually looked at the career statistics for each of these players and was able to count all but one out of my ballot rather easily. The only one even close is Ellis Burks. I wouldn't have thought that initially (I would have figured Ventura as the closest to consideration among this group), but a look at his numbers shows that Burks actually might even belong in that group with Murphy, Galarraga, and company. In fact, even as I write this, I'm thinking he might go there. Still, though, I think, like Jay Bell last year, Ellis Burks this year is my cutoff point, but he's really close.

I'm In Gregg Doyel's Hate Mail Again

2009-12-20T07:23:00.001-08:00

So, while I critiqued Gregg Doyel in my last post, I have generally come to enjoy some aspects of his work. Sometimes he's willing to say things that otherwise don't get said. I assume this is, at least in part, to get conversation going. It's typically easier to get that going by saying something extreme or something unorthodox. Unfortunately, in the case of his column on the WNBA the other day, it was something that, while creating conversation, can actually be too orthodox as to be dismissive. Other times, though, it can be much more compelling.

As part of this, I've learned to appreciate his weekly Hate Mail responses to readers for what they often are--friendly banter. I suppose I've come to this appreciation in part simply because Gregg has included me and responded to my comments several times in Hate Mail over the last two years. It started off rather rocky, but for my part I have come to appreciate it. And I'm sure that's at least in part because it feeds my ego to get the public attention.

With that in mind, I was in Hate Mail again this past week, coincidentally enough with a comment that involves gender. One might argue that my comment to Gregg undermines my critique of him, but I'd say it doesn't. The argument that male/female and masculinity/femininity are constructions doesn't mean people can't struggle with identifying with them. Indeed, because these constructs are so deeply embedded in our society, many people do struggle with identifying with them, at least in part because society asks us so heavily to do so. Indeed, the need to identify with what society sees as feminine has been a significant obstacle for many female athletes throughout the history of American sports. And the need to identify with what society sees as masculine has led many men to pursue violent and aggressive interests out of a sense of feeling the need to show or prove their masculinity. Some readings of Hemingway suggest that various aspects of his life--including the heavy interests in bullfighting and baseball--reflected that same kind of struggle.

Women in the NBA: Sometimes I'm Embarrassed to Be Identified as a Man

2009-12-15T17:38:00.000-08:00

You may have heard or read that a couple of weeks ago, in response to a question about it from Sports Illustrated reporter Ian Thomsen, David Stern asserted that he believes a woman playing in the NBA is "well within the range of possibility." Predictably, many a person has sounded off on this subject to dismiss the idea, using all sorts of arguments based in biological determinism, jeremiads about political correctness, and various other avenues for suggesting that there is no way a woman will ever play in the NBA. Just see Thomsen's mailbag from a week ago for some of these kinds of comments and argument, many of which are dismissive of the idea, and one of which characterizes Thomsen's article on Stern's comments as such "nonsense" that the author has stated that he or she will no longer read Thomsen's work. Today, Gregg Doyel added to this long list of dismissive arguments, with this column, in which he states flatly that he's not being "sexist"; he's just being "right."

I was planning on writing about this subject anyway as my semester came to a close and I qould finally have some time to get back to this blog. Then, given that I have a history of correspondence with Gregg, I wrote to him today in response to his column on the subject. In lieu of writing something additional when I think I summed it up in my message, here's the text of my message to Gregg:

Gregg,

Theories of biology upon which arguments against women's possibilities lie are inadequate to begin with. As many a transgendered person can tell you, the binary split of people into man-woman is not a complete picture of reality. It is a system of classification that was developed by people and that, in Western society, as well as other societies, has been used as the basis to relegate men and women to different positions with different opportunities time and again. Indeed, the whole biological theory itself is a theory built in Western science, created by men who already believed that the difference between men and women existed. They did not study things and then come to that belief; they already believed it ... just like many white Europeans developing scientific theories throughout the ages already believed that biological racial differences existed and, thus, their theories and discoveries reflected that starting-point belief that they already assumed as taken for granted from the beginning, thus perpetuating racism in the process. The man-women split does the same kind of thing and then has been used throughout the ages to perpetuate denial of opportunities, rights, and privileges based on this distinction. Over time, those differences have made it so that men and women, from the time they are conceived, are already positioned to do, think, and feel different things by society. Only recently has this been in any way challenged to any kind of an effective extent, and even with that, there is plenty still to rethink and reexamine. In the end, perhaps there are some general biological differences that might be noted between the group of people considered "men" and the group of people considered "women," but to out and out say one knows these differences without having really accounted for the years of social distinctions that contributed to these distinctions is to perpetuate the system that discriminates against women by closing off a possibility before it is even allowed to develop. In a word, it perpetuates sexism, and, thus, the kinds of biological deterministic arguments that you have put forth that close off this possibility of being examined are sexist.

You’re not alone, as your message board (to which I posted this same response almost verbatim) reflects, many would buy the biological argument—including people of various genders. And that is not to say that one can’t believe that biology makes a difference in men's and women's aptitudes. Perhaps it could ultimately be found to have some legitimacy … but perhaps not as well. And that’s the problem. The argument as you and so many others articulate it already assumes its full legitimacy and, thus, closes off the door to even entertaining another possibility, though that possibility may turn out to be legitimate. In the process, the vocalization of this argument not as “I believe” but as “I know,” as you have done in your column, rests on assuming what is a belief to be a truth, and in the process it becomes a significant part of the system of the oppression of women. 100 or even 50 or even 30 years ago, many people were sure of things women could not do that they are now doing despite people making specious knowledge claims like yours. Similarly, 100 or 50 or 30 years ago, many people made similar kinds of knowledge claims about being black, or “colored,” and used them to deny opportunities, rights, privileges or even simply the possibility of imagining a different future. Yet, today, we can refute those claims quite readily.

So, in the end, yes, your argument is sexist, and I hope I’ve explained effectively to at least some degree why.

While I have singled out Gregg here to the extent that my message (and, thus, this post) is in response to his column, I do not wish to single out Gregg Doyel in the overall argument here. As I suggested in my message to him, he's nowhere near alone in believing. Additionally, Gregg Doyel didn't start this kind of argument. To a large extent, he and so many others are vocalizing what they've been taught and/or learned to think. Yet, that's exactly how sexism works. People don't believe they're being sexist; they just believe that what they believe is truth, because that's what they have learned to think. When, however, the origins and bases for these ways of thinking go unexamined, and the possibilities for other ways of thinking are summarily dismissed as "nonsense," as "stupid" (as the title of Gregg's column explicitly indicates), or other such derogation, then we have oppression. And to that extent, Gregg Doyel, the folks responding to Ian Thomsen's column, and the many various people who continue this dismissal should be held responsible for their part in perpetuating that system of oppression, and at the very least (though there is more to it than this) their arguments should be met with strong, persistent, and continuing critique.

Perhaps ... Finally ... Some Progress?

2009-12-01T19:45:00.001-08:00

The winning streak ended today ...

The winning streak of non-white head coaching hires at FBS (Division I-A) college football programs ended today at 2. Before Bobby Bowden officially retired from Florida State University today, head coaching positions opening up this year had been 2 for 2 in hiring non-white (in each case African American) head coaches. Western Kentucky hired Willie Taggart, while Memphis hired Larry Porter. Of course, the argument could be made that the streak is still intact, since technically Jimbo Fisher had already been selected when he was made coach-in-waiting behind Bowden awhile back.

The point here is that the early returns are favorable for perhaps seeing a long-overdue increase in opportunities for non-white head coaches in FBS college football. Hopefully, this is a sign of things to come this year and in the future. I will certainly be watching.

World Series could mar Philly transit negotiations

2009-10-30T12:03:00.000-07:00

I know, I know ... There hasn't been much on this blog lately. Please stick in there my 3 or 4 (dare I hope 5?) regular visitors. There will be more to come, hopefully soon. The semester has got me running ragged.

I do, though, have a short post for today. On ESPN.com the front webpage link to a story titled "Strike could mar Philly transit services" reads "Philly sports weekend clouded by transit talks." Don't both the title of the piece and the title of the link reflect something rather profound regarding the position of labor in contemporary United States society. At the very least, they suggest that big-time sports rank higher as a priority. Imagine if these read "World Series could mar Philly transit negotiations" and "Transit talks clouded by Philly sports weekend," respectively ...

I've Often Wondered ...

2009-10-01T22:03:00.000-07:00

At the end of most of his Forde Yard Dash columns, ESPN's Pat Forde recommends a place to eat from a town that he visited the weekend before while reporting on college football. I've sometimes wondered, while reading his column, what place in Bowling Green, Ohio, he would pick if he ever did so. Well, this week, I received my answer, since Forde came to the BGSU-Boise State game this past Saturday (which I also attended). As Forde wrote on Tuesday, "When thirsty in the bucolic burgh of Bowling Green, Ohio, The Dash recommends a beer at Campus Quarters (40), an energetic joint across the street from Doyt Perry Stadium and the Bowling Green campus in general. The excessive country music in the place is offset nicely by a good beer selection, and it has indoor corn toss." So, there we have it: Campus Quarters, right on Wooster, just across from the Harshman Quandrangle. I guess it makes sense. It's down by the stadium area, it's a local place rather than a national or regional chain, and it has been around awhile. Now, if only DiBenedetto's hadn't just moved last spring from their same old location a couple doors down from Quarters, maybe my favorite sandwich place would have made the column instead ...

Sports are Important ... Because They're Important.

2009-10-01T21:52:00.000-07:00

On Thursday, this story on the Detroit Tigers and the city of Detroit ran on ESPN.com, while this story on how some people in Detroit can’t even afford to bury loved ones who have died ran on CNN.com. I’ve written before on this blog about the ludicrousness of the idea that the success of sports teams translates into some kind of relief to a city or region. While there may be occasional instances in which a sports team or event has some kind of bearing along these lines to a geographical entity, the sports media plays this connection up way too often. In his Thursday column, Jerry Crasnick did exactly that. Yet, really, will the Tigers making the playoffs, or making the World Series, or winning the World Series really do anything to help alleviate problems like the inability of people to afford to bury people or the many other difficulties that a people and governments in places like Detroit faces? No. At best, the playoffs and World Series will cause a little more money to be spent in the city as people visit the city to see the games. Maybe one more big-name free agent will sign to play for the Tigers and, thus, spend a little more of his money in the city. Yet, that money will do little to assist with the economic issues the city faces. At most, taxes collected on income, property, and sales will add a little more into the hopper for the city and state governments. And when I say little, I mean really little. The amount that that will generate is miniscule in comparison to the state and city budgets and the amounts needed to improve living, working, and economic conditions in the city. So, it’s rather disingenuous for sportswriters to make these kinds of claims, and, as I said in my previous post, this all just seems like another example of the sports media justifying the importance of sport. They set up a tautological argument that at its core goes something like this: sports are important because they help geographical regions, and they help geographical regions because they are important signs of a city’s prominence and success.

And, meanwhile, a very similar kind of thing may be happening to the city of Chicago and the United States as whole in regard to the Olympics. Check out what The Agon wrote about this for more.

I love sports. I enjoy watching them. They help keep me going sometimes when I'm driving, when I'm working, and so on. But let's not kid ourselves by overestimating their significance. And let's recognize how self-serving these kinds of stories about the significance of sport can be.

Sometimes You Can't Make It Own Your Own

2009-09-16T23:40:00.000-07:00

I became a fan of U2 in the Summer of 1988. Over a year after it came out, on a whim I bought The Joshua Tree, since it had produced three big hits. It was all part of my 15 cassettes for 1 cent or whatever the deal was for a Columbia Record and Tape Club membership at the time. I, of course, knew U2’s major hits at the time but had never been particularly enthused by then. It all changed when I listened to my new The Joshua Tree tape. I was hooked, and by that fall, when Rattle and Hum came out, U2 was my favorite band, which is where they have remained in the 21 years since then.

So, it was with excitement that finally, this past Sunday, I got to see them in concert. They kicked off the American leg of their 360º tour in Soldier Field in Chicago Saturday night. I couldn’t make it that night, but my wife and I made it to show number two in the same venue the next night. If you want to read my standard concert review of the show, it’s available here on tunesmate.com. For the purposes of this blog, I want to examine another aspect of the concert.

In particular, I found the makeup of the U2 audience interesting. When I was in high school in the late 1980s, I remember once a friend of mine wishing for a big concert to come to our area. It was a pipe dream and we all knew it, but we still found ourselves pondering it. He was thinking of the likes of Def Leppard, Bon Jovi, etc. Then, he looked at me and said something to the effect of “If it were up to you, though, we’d probably get something like U2.” It wasn’t meant to be approving of the choice, and it reflected, I think, some of the identity of U2 amid the hard rock trends of the late 1980s. That identity was furthered reflected a couple years later when, during my freshman year of college, a few guys in my dorm got into a war of words on one guy’s door that reached the level that the resident advisor had to step in. The one pair of guys might have been categorized as the “frat boy” style, while the other pair might have been categorized as part of the alternative scene. Among other things, at one point the frat boy pair wrote something on the other pair’s door disparaging them for their “U2 mushroom music.” In other words, for as big a draw as U2 had been during the period of The Joshua Tree and Rattle and Hum, the band wasn’t completely considered the kind of mainstream, stadium-busting rock that would appeal to the popular partying crowd.

The crowd on Sunday seems to have signaled that that has changed. In many ways, U2 seems to be what the Who, the Rolling Stones, the Eagles, and so on have been—one of the all-time most famous bands who have at times been considered edgy and who can sell out and rock out stadiums of 50,000-70,000 people. In many ways, given their age, their career paths, and their appeals, U2’s latest tour reminds me of the Steel Wheels tour that the Rolling Stones undertook in 1989-1990. Many in the crowd seemed to be there to drink a lot, rock out to music, and just have a good party.

While to a large extent, that’s par for the course on a stadium tour like this, this makeup of the crowd seems to become an issue of particular significance when we examine what might be called the “political” aspect of U2. While driving home from the concert, I heard a DJ on WGN radio out of Chicago talk about how he would have liked more humor and less politics at the shows this weekend, but that he was okay with the politics that U2 interjected, because that was U2; it’s part of their identity. This particularly caught my ear because I wanted them to include more politics into the performance, though I realized full well why they might not have done so. It also got me wondering how effective the political aspects of U2’s performance were.

At one point, the audience was asked to wear masks or hold up pictures of Aung San Suu Kyi, who was elected democratic leader of Burma in 1990 but was immediately overthrown by a military junta and has been under house arrest for the better part of the two decades since. The band played the song “Walk On,” which was written about her, and volunteers wearing masks surrounded the stage. Before the concert, ushers had masks available, so I had one that I had gotten then, and I held mine up throughout the song. Yet, I was clearly in the minority. I noticed one other person in my entire section wearing the mask, a few people in the next section holding them up, and a few others here and there. In fact, even though Bono had just explained who Suu Kyi was, the guy in front of my wife and I turned to my wife to ask who the picture I was holding up was.

Other aspects of the concert linked to political issues, including a message from Desmond Tutu on the big screen leading into the band playing “One” and, toward the end of the concert, Bono offering information about the amount of money that had been raised for AIDS relief in Africa. The themes of these “political moments” tended to be an emphasis on human rights, democracy, and freedom, along with a sentiment, as reflected in the song title “One” and Tutu’s speech before it, that we are all one world, needing to work together. Politically speaking, it was all pretty general stuff. I mean, this wasn’t Bono asking us to support a specific plan for national health care or a view on abortion or something else that might divide the audience in a much readier way. Yet, it is, as the WGN show host’s comments indicate, stuff that’s considered “political” (and, thus, something that is, by that perspective, to be distinguished from “entertainment,” “humor,” and any number of other categories that could be applied to the performance).

And, to some degree, I would assume U2’s efforts have some effect. My wife and I learned more about Suu Kyi during the performance. I’m sure others in the audience did as well. Yet, if the crowd participation during “Walk On” is any indication, that effect was rather limited. On the whole, it’s a rather privileged audience that went to this concert. Tickets were by no means cheap, the price of parking was pretty high, tee-shirts at the concert were $40 a pop, and that’s not even including all of the ancillary expenses that come with making the trip (and given the limited venues that the tour is playing, I’m sure many folks like me were and will be making four, five, six, or more hour trips to see a show on the tour). So, the political messages that U2 offers have potential to reach an audience that might have some money or resources to contribute to the causes of human rights, democracy, and freedom that U2 is espousing. Yet, to what degree is that limited by the audience’s motivation to care? Many of the folks didn’t seem to take particular interest in these aspects of the concert, preferring instead to take this time to get their next beer and wait for the next rocking song to which they could pump their fists and dance. Or they preferred, like the guy on WGN, to view these elements of the concert as a metaphorical mosquito—not a huge annoyance that keeps you from hanging out but just enough of an annoyance that you vocalize your displeasure. Meanwhile, for those of us who did take interest in these parts of the concert, to at least some degree, U2 was already preaching to the choir.

In the end, then, I think that generally U2’s messages about human rights, freedom, and democracy are on the whole good for the world. At the very least, my wife and I learned something important. At how many other concerts can one say that? Yet, like so many instances involving the confluence of politics and popular music, we need to recognize the limitations of the stadium rock concert as a forum for political discourse. And, perhaps, as part of that, there’s a need for voices that push society to reconsider how it thinks about that confluence. Should it be such an annoyance, and if so, toward what political ends does that sentiment serve? And, if one does listen to what U2 says, where does one go from there? Does one simply think about it, only to put it aside after the drive home, or does one donate money or time to a cause or talk about it with others after the concert? Does one take other actions?

On the back of my Aung San Suu Kyi mask, I’m offered some suggestions for action to take. The mask lists a number of websites to visit to find out how to help, including this one for the United States, this one for Canada, and this one globally. The wording in a circle on the side reads “Wear to work or college, when you’re at home drinking a cup of tea… especially to be worn at U2 shows when the band plays Walk On.” These are contextualized by the bolded quotation from Suu Kyi: “Please use your liberty to promote ours.” So, U2 is asking the privileged audience to act beyond just listening at the concert. Yet, the audience has to be motivated to even care to act in the first place. And that is where I’m concerned that things might be lacking, particularly with the current audience that U2’s tour is drawing. And it’s not that I don’t want U2 to draw this audience, nor that I think there’s no place for concerts to be about partying and listening to good music. After all, I did my fair share of dancing and singing at the show. It’s that I want that and I want more. I want a world where we can all have a good time and learn something about ourselves and other at the same time. Music seems to have that potential, but only if both sides (performer and audience) participate.

The State of Discipline in the College Arena

2009-09-04T12:37:00.000-07:00

I have something more to consider for three weeks from now.…

You see, I tend to root for Boise State in college football. I believe that they (along with Utah) are ideally representative of the discrepancy between the six conferences that get automatic bids to BCS bowl games and the five conferences in the “FBS (Football Bowl Subdivision” of Division I college football that do not. Three years ago, Boise State ended up the year as the only undefeated team in the FBS, having defeated Oklahoma in the Fiesta Bowl, while also soundly defeating Oregon State (which was the only team pre-UCLA to beat USC when USC was discussed as a potential candidate for the championship game before losing to its cross-town rivals). Yet, Boise State did not win the championship; Florida (after defeating Ohio State in the championship game) did. While some actually tried to argue that Boise State was a winner in the BCS system that year because they got the opportunity to play in a BCS Bowl, I would argue and have argued that those very arguments are excellent examples to illustrate one type of hegemony. It’s a case of excluding or marginalizing someone and then arguing, quite the opposite, that those who have been excluded or marginalized have actually been treated quite well (they’re “winners,” after all). I still to this day argue that Boise State was cheated out of their opportunity, and I look forward to them and other schools from the WAC, MAC, MWC, Conference-USA, and Sun Belt running the table and showing again and again that they deserve fairer consideration.

And this year Boise State may again be the team to do it. They’re certainly getting buzz as such a team. Yet, in three weeks, my interest in seeing them run the table will be tested. On September 26, Boise State will visit my alma mater (and current employer) Bowling Green State University, and I am planning to take my soon-to-be-ten-year-old nephew to the game. I started a tradition of taking him to football games last year, getting him a membership in the Falcon Kids Club (see here if you’re interested), which gives him free admittance to most BGSU sporting events, along with a tee-shirt, birthday card from mascot Freddie Falcon, and membership card. I’m hoping he’ll develop a loyalty to the Falcons (which I think he is) and, perhaps, even come to school here someday. (NOTE TO BGSU ADMINISTRATION: Please see this as one of the many things I’m doing and willing to do to promote enrollment.) We went to see Eastern Michigan-BGSU for a football game last year. We’re planning on at least the Boise State-BGSU game this year.

So, I’m planning to be at the game, but I have to recognize the dilemma that I face by this game. I am, after all, going to root for BGSU. They are the team I follow and support. Yet, if BGSU wins, it destroys Boise State’s undefeated season (assuming it’s still intact when they play each other). I’ll still be pulling for the Falcons to win. (Indeed, maybe BGSU can run the table, though I doubt they’d get the same respect as Boise State if they did, even though the Falcons’ schedule isn’t necessarily an easy one). It seems, though, that after last night, I have one more reason to root against Boise State….

Last night, while working on various things here at home, I listened to the BGSU Falcons defeat Troy on 88.1 WBGU—one of the two campus radio stations here in Bowling Green (and, by the way, kudos to Pat Dougherty and Anthony Bellino from BGRSO on the call). Then, I watched the Boise State-Oregon game on ESPN, which Boise State won to begin its trek toward another undefeated season. I looked up from my work long enough to see the game end, then turned my attention back to my computer screen. When I looked up again, the cameras were following Oregon player LeGarrette Blount, who was being restrained and led off the field by coaches and teammates while he appeared to be yelling back and forth with some Boise State fans who were in the stands. As I later saw on replay, after what appeared to be some verbal exchanges from Boise State’s Byron Hout, Blount punched Hout in the jaw and knocked him to the ground, before being restrained and led out by coaches and teammates. ESPN’s post-game coverage was dominated by this event, from what was shown on-camera to what the announcers discussed to the very first question the sideline reporter asked winning head coach Chris Peterson. ESPN.com’s coverage of the game has also been dominated by the event. Today, the headline for the game coverage read “Punched Out: Oregon's LeGarrette Blount lost his cool Thursday and he might lose more. Should he be punished?” You can even click on that headline and see a replay of what happened between Blount and Hout. The official recap of the game also leads with the post-game event, using the title “Postgame punch mars No. 14 Boise State's commanding win over No. 16 Oregon.” It is then this theme, not the game itself, that dominates much of the recap, with one line even claiming that “Blount’s actions took away” from Boise State celebrating its victory.

Yet, there’s something awfully revealing buried in that recap. To the side of the recap you can click on a photo of fans watching Blount punch Hout on the scoreboard screen at Boise State’s stadium. My question here is “How did the fans know to even heckle Blount as he was being led out?” The answer: they knew because the folks at Bronco Stadium were making sure they saw it happen … repeatedly.

So, here’s the deal. Yes, Blount did something inappropriate. (Though, the context of the sporting event is part of the equation here. A punch like Blount’s would have been business as usual in many a hockey game.) It appears that there’s going to be some disciplinary action taken against Blount, and my point, at this juncture at least, is not to comment on what is or isn’t appropriate disciplinary reaction (as certainly plenty of media members have, like here and here). I do, though, want to comment on who is being discussed as deserving of disciplinary action. Yes, Blount threw the punch, but for what reasons did the folks at Bronco Stadium repeatedly show it on the scoreboard? It certainly seems to have exacerbated the situation by stirring up the fans, who then engaged with Blount as he was led off the field. I would have a hard time believing the Bronco Stadium folks didn’t realize that might happen.

This is then a rather blatant example (among many in American culture, in sports and out of sports) in which individual transgressions are analyzed, discussed, highlighted, emphasized, condemned, and utilized as the basis for discipline, yet institutional and organizational transgressions, including the ways in which organizations and institutions contribute to violence and inappropriate action, not only go without discipline, but also go without critique or even attention.

So, I’m trying to think of ways to try to draw attention to institutional and organizational culpability. My initial thought is that I might make a sign or a tee-shirt or something for the BGSU-Boise State game that reads something like “Welcome Broncos … to a stadium that doesn’t incite fans to provoke violence.” Maybe, though, that kind of technique would just contribute to the problem by being a kind of provocation itself. That is, of course, the dilemma of so much critique—even the means of critique end up, at least to some degree, reinforcing the problem. Yet, maybe, something like this could register in some folks’ minds and at least be a small step to addressing the issue. And, maybe, I’d not only be teaching my nephew to root for the Falcons, I’d also be teaching him some critical thinking skills. Who knows? I’m not sure if I’m going to do anything and, if so, what I will do, but at least I do know I have one more reason to cheer on my alma mater….

Tunesmate

2009-09-02T16:47:00.001-07:00

As I'm sure you can tell if you read this blog regularly at all, one of my interests is popular music. I've blogged about it numerous times and will do so again, I'm sure. I'll keep doing so here, but starting today some of my thoughts on popular music will also appear on a blog my buddy (and college roommate) Marc Majers set up recently called Tunesmate. I've linked to it on the side of this blog with my other Links of Interest. If you're interested in opinions on and discussion of popular music, as well as being introduced to or reminded of various artists and styles, you might like this site.

Ballpark Names

2009-08-21T07:44:00.000-07:00

Like last summer, this summer I went to New York City. Unlike last summer, this summer I did not go to a Mets game. While visiting with my wife and her sister last month, we did have one evening in which we could have hopped the subway out to Queens to go. The Mets were even in town playing the Rockies, and, given the Mets' season, I doubt it would have been hard to get tickets. I mentioned going and my wife even talked about going, but in the end we didn't go. If I had even shown just a touch more desire to go, I'm pretty sure we would have gone. Yet, that desire wasn't there.

That lack of desire has nothing to do with the Mets' play this year. Indeed, I've often argued that a true Mets fan enjoys the team when it's underachieving or even just plain bad. That, to me, is part of the fun and identity of being a Mets fan.

Rather than that, my lack of interest in going to a game this summer had a lot more to do with a lack of interest in going to the Mets' new ballpark. Last year, I wanted one last game at Shea Stadium. This year, I feel little interest in visiting the new stadium, CitiField, which is named after a corporation that was recently bailed out by the government, yet retains the naming rights it paid millions of dollars to have on this stadium. The situation has even caused some to suggest the stadium should be called "Taxpayer Stadium" or other names of that ilk, and I guess I tend to concur, since I routinely call it "Taxpayer Field" when talking about it.

Now, I'm not one who decries the loss of sports to commercialism. I recognize full well that those deep ties were established well over a century ago. Wrigley Field, for instance, may be one of the great sites of baseball public memory, but the stadium still bears the name of the team's once-owner, who also happened to sell gum named "Wrigley's." Or, just read the book Albert Spalding and the Rise of Baseball: The Promise of American Sport, by my former advisor at Michigan State University, Peter Levine, as one example that illustrates the many commercial manipulations that occurred as major league baseball developed. So, naming the ballpark after a corporate entity is not the horrible new practice that's destroying baseball that some might have one believe.

My problem here is that I'm tired of the ballparks changing names all of the time. It's awkward, for instance, to have to call the Diamondbacks' stadium Chase Field after knowing it as Bank One Ballpark for years. I understand that Bank One no longer exists, since it merged with Chase, so that is a different situation than a company being bailed out by the federal government. Additionally, I suppose most, if not all, of us can understand the reasoning for changing the Astros' stadium from Enron Field to Minute Maid Park. So, it's not like changing stadium names isn't without merit, and I doubt selling naming rights is going to change any time soon. However, I tire of it, and, while driving my dad to the airport the other day, we hit upon an idea for how we are going to deal with it.

From now on, I'm going to make a conscious effort to call the stadium the team's name. So, rather than CitiField, I'll call the new home of the Mets "Mets Stadium." The Diamondbacks' home will be "Diamondbacks Stadium." To me, the San Francisco Giants, whose stadium once had three different names in four seasons, play in "Giants' Stadium." I'll do this in other sports, too. The Cleveland Cavaliers play in "Cavaliers' Arena." The Detroit Red Wings (and their annoying fans) go to "Red Wings Arena" (though, to be honest, this is a harder one to change, since "Joe Louis Arena" has a little more gravitas to me). And, in a case that is perhaps one of the biggest joke stadium names of all, rather than calling the home of the Arizona Cardinals "University of Phoenix Stadium," I'll just refer to it as "Cardinals' Stadium." (Remember that this is a team that wanted to get away from having to play at a college team's stadium, after playing in Arizona State University's Sun Devil Stadium for years. So, they moved out of there, only to sell their naming rights to another college, making it sound like they just swapped college homes.)

This new practice is not without limitation. If, for instance, I call Jacobs ... I mean, Progressive Field ... "Indians Stadium," I'm still perpetuating the politics of naming a team after Native Americans by referencing the name. So, perhaps, I'll just call that one "The Cleveland Baseball Stadium." Ditto the football stadium in Washington. Additionally, in cases where teams have the same nickname as another team, it could be confusing. Of course, in one case, at least, I can just call the home of the New York football teams "Giants/Jets Stadium."

And, of course, the beauty of all this is that my favorite place to watch baseball of all the ballparks that I've visited won't really have to change, but for an "s" that would get morphed into another "s" when saying it anyway. After all, "Dodgers Stadium" is already called "Dodger Stadium."

Back to Blogging

2009-08-13T12:54:00.000-07:00

Summer vacations and other commitments are now over. The new semester is but a week and a half away. So, I'm back to the blogging board. I have a number of things I want to write about, but I just haven't found the time amid the summer hustle and bustle. Yes, that's right: summer hustle and bustle. So, expect more blog volume in the coming weeks.

I've started with something on Ted Nugent that I've been meaning to write for awhile. I've also got something on Richard Marx cooking and something on baseball ready to write.

Let me also take this moment to remember Les Paul, who died today. When I picked up playing guitar (I played bass, not having the patience to learn to play chords on a guitar) in the late 1980s, rumor had it that Paul lived in some rural part of Ohio. After playing guitar with a friend of mine and an elderly man who wasn't Paul who lived down the road from my friend, my sixteen-year-old imagination fantasized that one day I would happen across a chance to play with Paul on his front porch, too. Who knows if the rumor was even true, but rock and roll dreams die hard ...

The Nuge: The Jerk or The Stooge?

2009-08-13T12:40:00.001-07:00

I’ve known for while that I don’t agree on a lot of political issues with Ted Nugent (a.k.a. “The Nuge”). For instance, his take on English as a national language clearly differs from mine. However, some of his comments from a few weeks ago demonstrate that, frankly, Ted Nugent is a jerk. While his take on Barack Obama is one thing to address, it’s what this news report later reports him saying that show just how much of a jerk he is. According to Nugent:

There is gluttony and denial in our economy. Basically, it can be most simply understood by the U.S. government and its citizens being credit card pigs. You can't buy another leather jacket when you've already got six. You claim you can't make ends meet and you owe five grand, much less 250 grand, on your credit card, you chimp!? Of course, I'm the bastard for saying it. People are pigs from the blubber that they have intentionally infested ourselves with and then they have the audacity to squawk for health care but not care about our health? How does that work?! If the producers of 'Planet of the Apes' were offered the current American script that was playing out before us, they would turn it down because it's too stupid. It wouldn't qualify for a 'Planet of the Apes' script!

Only the guilty need to feel guilty, but anybody who claims they can't make ends meet is a liar! Anybody that owes money on their credit card is a pig. If you smoke or drink or have blubber, you get no healthcare until you show me you care about your health. You can't stab yourself in the eye every morning and then charge me for your eye doctor! What the f---?!

Nugent is, of course, basing his comments on good ol’ folksy “common sense” kinds of ideas here. You know, it seems wrong for someone who continually doesn’t take care of her or his health to demand that the rest of us keep paying for it when he or she refuses to make changes that benefit her or his health. I mean, sure, that sounds appropriate in the same kind of way that, for instance, I as a teacher don’t just give passing grades or extra credit or makeup opportunities to students who don’t do the work necessary and who don’t seem to want to make changes to study habits, etc. so that they can pass their classes.

And, sure, I’d guess most, if not all, of us can look at what has gone on in this country’s economy and agree that there has been gluttony and denial.

However, Nugent doesn’t stop there. He goes on to include a lot more people in his criticism, saying explicitly that anyone who owes money on a credit card is “a pig” (and, thus, to be viewed negatively, I would assume). And, of course, if any of that debt is attributable to health care, well, then, you’re an even bigger pig, according to Nugent, who, by the way, in the report claims (with a very strange and not really accurate way of defining what it means to be “liberal”), “I’ve done the right things. I've never been liberal so I've got a nest egg. I've always lived within my means."

Again, maybe he has a point. Perhaps there are deeper cultural trends in the United States, whereby we all, even in everyday little things that we do, contribute to the overuse of resources, engage in unhealthy practices, and live above our means. So, perhaps there is need to feel some guilt and, beyond that, to do something to change these ways of life. I’m willing to consider all those aspects of what Nugent says. However, what I am not willing to accept is his high-handed, self-righteous, hypocritical way of discussing this.

First of all, many health developments that happen are not simply a matter of not taking care of oneself. People don’t ask for brain aneurysms to sprout up, lack of work doesn’t cause people to have hereditary conditions, etc.

Secondly, credit card debt is not simply a matter of gluttony. Sometimes, it’s a financial risk taken in hopes of paying off in the end. For instance, a person might go in debt some now in order to go to school or work a lower paying job or pay for professional development opportunities in hopes that these will, in a few years, land that person in a position where he or she can pay that debt off. Isn’t that, in fact, the kind of personal finance risks that many conservatives who are the political buddies of Nugent would say helps make the United States great? Additionally, many of us out here didn’t choose for our houses to need unscheduled maintenance or for our cars to break down or other such cash-guzzling emergencies that afflict everyday people every day.

So, Ted, you’re wrong to generalize the way you have about why people have to spend money on health and why people have debt. Additionally, you’re wrong to act like you are above all of this.

I ask you, Ted, how did you get where you are? Can you really tell me that throughout your entire career none of the promoters, companies, agents, media networks, and other individuals, groups, and organizations that helped build that career did so on credit? I find that possibility at best unlikely and—more to the point—ludicrous. I would challenge you to show me otherwise. If you can fully and legitimately show that, then I’ll gladly retract this. But that just does not seem possible, given the numbers of individuals, groups, and organizations you have had to work with to sell you albums, go on your tours, and produce your reality television shows, let alone any other endeavors you have. All I need to look at is Viacom, which owns MTV Networks, which owns VH1 (the network that hosted your previous reality shows) and CMT (the network airing your reality show that starts this month). Viacom didn’t make it to where it is today as a media conglomerate without going into debt. (See, for instance, here and here.)

Additionally, can you really say that you haven’t been involved with anything that contributes to health problems? There are many ways that the “horsepower” that you advertise on your own website contribute to smog and other environmental conditions that affect the health (and, thus, the pocketbooks) of many people who are not even involved in these activities. Also, many meats featured in your own publicly sold cookbook Kill It and Grill It have health issues that correspond with their consumption. Furthermore, for as much as you rail on drinking and smoking in your comments, you are still fine with attending and advertising for a 2007 Washington, D.C., event featuring plenty of alcohol and tobacco products as parts of the night’s perks.

You see, one of the big problems with the kinds of discourses that you and so many others (especially, though not exclusively, in conservative camps) promote is that they’re based on arguments that chastise those who take part in the very same institutions and practices that have made you who you are. It’s as if you forgot, you ignore, or you are too ignorant to recognize that your success is not entirely your own doing and that to achieve your success you’ve had to rely on many of the same things against which you rail.

So, yes, I’d agree with you, Ted, that there’s plenty of denial in the United States today. I’d add, though, that there are many different forms of denial, and your comments suggest that you live with one of the most insidious, selfish, and mean-spirited forms of denial.

Of course, maybe you’re not in denial. Maybe you realize that plenty of your fans probably aren’t in much of a position to pay for their health needs, to pay to fix their simple everyday appliances, to pay to fix their homes, etc. So, they can listen to you, never invest in their futures, live meager existences until they die earlier than they had to die … and the divide between the rich and the poor will remain or, in all likelihood, grow. It’s hegemony at its strongest, keeping the working classes from making gains in society by ideologically convincing them to stay poor, while you benefit off the same things you’ve convinced them not to pursue.

If it’s this latter option, then you are, as I said above, a jerk. You know what you’re doing and you’re laughing maliciously in the faces of the people on whom you trample. If it’s the former option, then you’re still a jerk, because you’ve chosen to forget about or ignore all of the things that helped you get where you are and would help others do the same.

There is one other option. In this option, you’re not in denial and you’re not maliciously and knowingly using people. In this option, you simply don’t realize the implications of what you are saying. You don’t recognize that your career has been built off these things and that many of the things that you support have implications that help produce the things against which you complain. I really don’t think this is true. I think you’d have to be pretty damn dumb for that to be the case, and, frankly, I don’t think you’re that stupid. However, if by some chance you are, then you’re not a jerk. No, in that case, you’re not just “The Nuge”; you’re a Stooge.

If You Believed ...

2009-07-20T13:01:00.000-07:00

I’ll give you one guess what song is going through my mind as I write this post …

Sorry it’s been awhile since I’ve posted. I have a number of thoughts for things I want to post about, but haven’t found the time to sit down and write out what I want to say yet. Perhaps in the next couple of weeks …

Today, though, I’d like to acknowledge the fortieth anniversary of the day that people walked on the moon. Most notably, Neil Armstrong is remembered for being the first person to set foot on the moon. This weekend, I noticed that CNN.com ran a short editorial piece by Bob Greene about Neil Armstrong’s hometown: Wapakoneta, Ohio. There, you can find the Armstrong Air & Space Museum, which looks like a big golf ball as you drive past on I-75. I know this because I’ve driven by it scores of times and I’ve been to it several times. I grew up what is almost exactly a half-hour’s trip from it. So, for Cub Scouts, for school field trips, and I think a couple times with my father (who was curator of another museum in the area) or my grandfather (who was a bit of an air and space enthusiast), I went to the museum periodically. Though I’ve been meaning to go back since I relocated back to Ohio a few years ago, I haven’t yet, meaning it’s probably been around 25 years since the last time I was there.

I have glimpses of memories from the place—barely enough to even mention, for fear I’d completely misrepresent what was there then or is there now. All I remember are some pictures on walls and a kind of spacewalk room. My most vivid memories of Wapakoneta, though, involve something different, yet strangely similar. You see, while I go to the movies frequently in my adult life, as a kid my family didn’t go very often. We did, though, see a number of the big blockbusters in the late 1970s and throughout the 1980s, like the Star Wars films, E.T., and (actually when my brothers and I cajoled my mom’s brother into taking us) Back to the Future. Usually, my dad and his brother would also take us to see a Star Trek film whenever one hit the theaters, making me into the Trekkie that I am today. Many of these films we saw in Lima, Ohio, but I distinctly remember seeing two films at the old theater in Wapakoneta. One, in 1983, was Return of the Jedi. (I can even still remember the pillar I had to look around to see some of it.) The other was in early 1987. (For some reason, I remember that it was the same week that they announced that Billy Williams was elected to the Hall of Fame, which led me to buy my first Billy Williams baseball card that day at a baseball card shop in Wapakoneta and start my collection of Billy Williams cards, which I still have today, with only the most expensive among the set—his 1966 Topps card—missing.) In this instance, the film was Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (“the one with the whales,” which tends to be regarded as one of the better Star Trek films and, on my own personal list, would rank second among Star Trek films, behind the second film with the Next Generation cast (“the one with the Borg”) … see, told you I was a Trekkie; I’ve even got a list of how I would rank the Star Trek films …).

The funny thing about all of this is that it didn’t dawn on me until I was reading the aforementioned CNN piece that my two most vivid memories of Wapakoneta are about seeing films that are about space—indeed, films from what are probably the two biggest space-oriented media text franchises ever. I don’t really believe in some kind of “fate,” so I take it as coincidence that I happened to see these two films in Wapakoneta and that those are my most lasting memories of the town. However, two things might make this a little more than coincidence. First, there is always the possibility that these films ran longer there or were a bigger deal in Wapakoneta than in many other places, since space is such a part of the town’s identity. That might contribute to it being a little more than coincidence that I saw these films there … though, I saw the other Star Wars and Star Trek films that came out when I was kid elsewhere. Second, perhaps subconsciously I so heavily associated with Wapakoneta with the air and space museum, that my mind latched onto these connections to space-oriented films in some way as well … though, that doesn’t explain the Billy Williams connection.

In the end, though, regardless of how coincidental my connections are, all of this shows just how significant space exploration has been in the last half century. That interest has become stitched into United States culture and society in many ways, in large part because the government (particularly with John Kennedy’s famous pronouncement that the United States would have a man on the moon before the 1960s were over) explicitly advanced this movement and the Hollywood industry, toy industries, and so on followed suit. And through all of this, so many space-oriented narratives have been built off a mythology that is evident in Bob Greene’s piece on CNN.com: what might be called the mythology of small town wholesomeness. Greene assigns it to Wapakoneta as he writes wistfully of the town. Many narratives of American history and identity build off this same theme, perhaps most prominently reflected in the prominent, though very limiting, idea that rural towns and cities in the Midwest (like Wapakoneta) constitute the moral center of American values. Many space narratives have followed suit, placing the origins of their protagonists into those rural environments. Star Trek and Star Wars are no different. Captain Kirk, after all, came from Iowa. And Luke Skywalker was a moisture farmer on the desert wastes of Tatooine before the Rebellion came calling. So, even as American stories have reached “to explore strange new worlds” and “to seek out new life and new civilizations,” that search has very much been rooted, physically and ideologically, in the familiar world of the rural United States. That is, of course, why space narratives have been associated with the Old West, with Star Wars being called a Western and Star Trek calling its scene “the final frontier.” (And, here, my friends, I’m sure is my Billy Williams link, since the popularity of baseball is built on a similar mythology, complete with the Field of Dreams in, of course, Iowa.) This is also, though, of course, how the mythology of the Midwest as the moral center of the United States carries on, bearing with it the politics of that morality. After all, it is in these kinds of rural spaces that a lot of the most persuasive forms of exclusion in American history—from sexism to racism to homophobia to xenophobia—have maintained firm ideological holds.

When I look back, then, at my memories of Wapakoneta, I hold nothing against the town. Indeed, I have happy memories of the town. Yet, I know little about Wapakoneta, other than my few memories and whatever information I might look up about it. Still, I have to wonder if Bob Greene, even though he is originally from a town in Ohio that’s not too much farther from Wapakoneta than the one I’m from, knows that much more than I do. The problem is that his column seems to imply that he does. It’s as if he knows the town’s soul, because it must have a good soul simply because it’s a Midwest town. That is, after all, what the mythology of small town wholesomeness tells us. And perhaps Wapakoneta is, on the whole, a good place. Yet, it’s not the automatic assumption that because it’s a Midwest farm town it must be a good place that should make that determination about Wapakoneta. In fact, quite the opposite is the case, since it’s that kind of assumption that, even when put forth rather innocuously in places like Greene’s piece, helps reinforce the deeper obstacles to democracy and inclusion that so often take place in Midwest farm towns.

So, let’s celebrate Neil Armstrong, NASA, “a man on the moon,” and Wapakoneta, if we wish, but let’s not forget the politics of how we go about doing so.

Another Stark Contrast

2009-07-03T16:54:00.000-07:00

I get it. Jayson Stark doesn’t seem to particularly like Manny Ramirez and he does seem to like Andy Pettitte, while I tend to sit on the opposite sides of those fences. So, I’m perfectly willing to acknowledge that I might jump too quickly to defend Ramirez and I have already on this blog recognized that I might be too ready to dismiss Pettitte. That said, I still have an issue with Stark’s treatment of Ramirez vis-à-vis Pettitte. In his latest column, Stark voices indignation at the way in which Manny Ramirez is being celebrated and welcomed as he returns from his suspension for testing positive for a performance-enhancing drug. I guess I’d say Stark has just cause for his indignation. There probably is something inappropriate about the fanfare being made of Ramirez as he returns. And it’s not like Stark is saying Ramirez should not be allowed back. As Stark writes:

Manny Ramirez deserve a second chance? Absolutely. But does he deserve to be celebrated by anyone who isn't a tunnel-visioned Dodgers fan? Absolutely not.

If that's the greeting America heaps on him, though, the moral of Manny's story will be clear to every one of us:

It's time to grow some cool hair. Immediately.

So, Stark is upset by the lesson potentially being learned here and the message being sent. Yet, I wish he would be a little more reflective of these kinds of things when he discusses Andy Pettitte. Now, in fairness, when Andy Pettitte was admitting his performance-enhancing drug use, Stark did say that Pettitte doesn’t deserve to be excused and that Pettitte must deal with harsh consequences for having taken the drugs. Stark also, though, in comparing Pettitte to Rodney Harrison of the NFL, to show his indignation about how Harrison was not being treated more harshly for use of a performance-enhancing drug, wrote of Pettitte:

… he'll deserve his inevitable trip to principal Selig's office. He'll deserve whatever boos he hears on Opening Day, and on every road trip for the rest of his life. He'll deserve whatever price he has to pay for this.

But that doesn't mean we can't put his offense in perspective, judged against the more heinous and selfish offenses of others, judged against the context of his career.

I can’t disagree with Stark for saying we need to put these offenses into context, but I would ask Stark to reconsider his suggestion about how heinous and selfish Pettitte’s offenses were. In particular, for as much as Ramirez as flawed, at least he’s not claimed to lead some kind of pure life, nor has he profited by offering such a characterization of himself. Pettitte, on the other hand, in 2005, published a book claiming exactly that. The book, titled Strike Zone: Targeting A Life Of Integrity & Purity, is marketed with the following statement:

While life as a big league baseball player has brought Andy Pettitte fame and accolades, it has also brought with it temptation. However, Andy learned to deal with temptation long before he donned his first major league uniform. While still a teenager, Andy committed himself to Christ and a life of purity. With his target identified early on, he has been able to hit the strikezone throughout his life.

While Ramirez is not free of responsibility for his actions, it seems to me the far more heinous and selfish context here is to profit off claims to living a “pure” life when one is doing anything but. Stark seems upset that the moral of the Ramirez story would be that everybody will love you and welcome you back if you grow your hair long and have a goofy, happy-go-lucky persona like Ramirez. Yet, Stark’s treatment of Pettitte would have us fall victim to what might be an even worse moral: It’s time to claim status as a born-again Christian and write a book about how to live a morally upstanding, “pure” life, even if you don’t in reality live the life you’re preaching.

Sorry, Jayson, but to me that’s the worse context and the worse moral.

Dis(Parity) in the NBA: One Year Later

2009-06-15T01:09:00.000-07:00

Now that the Los Angeles Lakers have won the 2009 NBA title, as a follow-up to my post a little over a year ago on Disparity in the NBA, let’s look at how NBA championships since 1980 now stack up:

8 franchises have, among themselves, won the last 30 NBA championships, for an average of 3.75 championships per franchise.

Taking out the Philadelphia 76ers’ win in 1983 and the Miami Heat’s win in 2006, 6 franchises have, among themselves, won 28 of the last 30 NBA championships, for an average of 4.67 championships per franchise.

Those numbers are up from 3.5 and 4.33, respectively, before the Boston Celtics won the championship in 2008.

Gregg Doyel Update #4: Cheap Amusements

2009-06-11T19:36:00.000-07:00

I made Gregg Doyel's HateMail again today. He cut off some of my message. I don't remember word for word what I wrote, but the full message went something like this:

Dude ... What's with the new picture? I had to look at it a few times, and I'm still not sure it's you. I know the Arizona Cardinals claim that making the bird on their logo look "tougher" helped them gain the ferocity to make the Super Bowl, but do you really need to be like the Detroit Lions and try to follow suit? I could relate to your old picture. You were a doofus just like the rest of us. But now? You look like a muscle-head with whom I have little in common (or like Chris Daughtry ... I'm not sure yet). You and I are both smart enough to know I'm not going to stop reading your columns, but I had been praising you lately and now I'll probably have to go back to critiquing you. And here I was thinking that my critique of you last year had helped produced a brighter, more eloquent Gregg Doyel. Now I need something else to stroke my ego. Thanks. Thanks a lot.

Again, my wording in the message might have been a bit different, but that was the gist of it.

Anyway, there's not really any particularly more profound point to this post other than my own cheap amusement, as I mentioned in my title. Speaking of which, though, there's a cool book by Kathleen Peiss from the mid-1980s called Cheap Amusements that examines at the leisure activities of working-class women around the turn of the 20th century. I had to read it for two different courses while working on my Master's degree in the mid-1990s. If memory serves me correctly, it's written in a style that's relatively accessible for non-academic audiences, even as it maintains academic credibility. Of course, the best part is that she starts out the book by quoting Cyndi Lauper's song "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." In writing a review of the book for one of the courses for which I had to read it I decided to start off each paragraph by using the title of a Cyndi Lauper song at the beginning of the first sentence of the paragraph. So, one paragraph started "Time after time ..."; another started "True colors were shown ..."; and so on. The professor didn't catch the references and marked all of the "awkward" opening sentences to paragraphs. I never told him what I did. I'd be very surprised if he even remembers it, but obviously it made an impression on me ... but, then again, I do, as I mentioned in my message to Gregg Doyel, have that ego to stroke and, of course, I am a big fan of Cyndi Lauper.

And, no ... I didn't find a way to start a sentence with "She Bop" ... but, then again, maybe I just wasn't being inventive enough ...

Barack Obama and Gay Rights

2009-06-06T17:08:00.001-07:00

Ragan Fox (assistant professor in the Department of Communication Studies at Cal State-Long Beach and fellow ASU alum (I was directly in front of him in the graduation line when we both earned our Ph.D.s)) recently offered a post on his blog in which he associates gay men and women supporting Obama's administration with being in an abusive relationship. I found it to be an insightful connection about an important set of issues, so I thought I'd share it here.

21st Century Breakdown

2009-05-27T21:51:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about writing something about the recent situation involving Wal-Mart's refusal to stock Green Day's latest album, but then a fellow faculty member at my university wrote a column in the school newspaper about it and I have just completed and sent a letter to the editor in response. So, rather than rewrite something else for my blog (since I really need to get back to working on other projects), I figured I'd link to his column here and include my letter below:

Dr. Phil Schurrer’s column on Wednesday, May 27, harkens back to another column he wrote in February, in which he discussed what he considered to be polite and impolite speech, railing against things such as language usage and having to hear about sexual orientations. Among the topics these columns addressed was his distaste for “vulgar” words. Many of these words, though, are only considered “vulgar” because historically those in power, who came primarily from a white, European Christian, upper-class background, saw them as such. To this day, that they are considered objectionable reflects the power that that group continues to have. Continued treatment of them as unquestionably objectionable thus contains real potential to marginalize other groups’ perspectives.

Dr. Schurrer’s discussion of Wal-Mart and Green Day reinforces these power relations. It may be that Green Day was doing this for publicity, as Dr. Schurrer suggests. However, Wal-Mart’s actions are every bit as much publicity. Wal-Mart’s policy publicly endears them to some constituencies, as it suggests that the interests of those who do not like this language are more important than the interests of others. As this involves what are historically considered “bad” words, Wal-Mart is privileging the historical sensitivities of white Christian upper-class Europeans over others’ sensitivities. What if, as an alternate scenario, someone believes that any reference to God in a song is offensive? Should Wal-Mart accommodate this sensitivity, too? Should they do so for any number of other subjects that could also potentially offend? In another scenario, to go back to Dr. Schurrer’s mention of sexual orientation, why is it considered inappropriate for some folks to discuss sexual orientation, yet we see heterosexual couples kissing on the scoreboard at baseball games, we celebrate weddings (which express sexual orientation whether same-sex or different-sex), and our media texts are dominated by one heterosexual romantic film and song after another?

Dr. Schurrer wrote in September that “if a university is to truly be a ‘supermarket of ideas,’ then all sides of an issue need to be aired. This is not saying we agree with all points of view, or that all ideas are equal in value. But respect for others mandates that we give them the same respect that we seek.” Yet, he seems to suggest that his supermarket of ideas should not include some forms and kinds of expression when he proposes that that supermarket must occur within rules that he wants imposed so that some sensibilities, which often coincide with the sensibilities of dominant groups, are not offended. In another column last September, he referred to some of these rules as “common courtesy.” Yet, in March, he defended conservatism on the grounds that you can “depend on it to back the individual over the collective.” Given the correlation between “common” and “collective,” his positions continually seem to run counter to his praise for conservatism, as they back the collective over the individual and they do so in ways that very much involve power relations that, at a minimum, it would seem, ought to be recognized and discussed.

In his most recent column, Dr. Schurrer called Green Day “juvenile” and questioned the band’s maturity. Last fall, in his piece on diversity, Dr. Schurrer argued that “if we're going to be truly ‘diverse,’ we need to listen to those views [that differ from ours] with the same degree of respect and concentration as those who think as we do. To do so is a sign of intellectual activity and maturity.” With all due respect, couldn’t Dr. Schurrer’s own statement about maturity be applied to Wal-Mart and the many unexamined rules and “common courtesies” that his columns have mentioned over the past year? I truly respect Dr. Schurrer’s views and sensitivities, and I think there is plenty of room for discussion of what language use and actions are appropriate, what topics are important to discuss, and so on. However, Dr. Schurrer’s use of language seems to reflect something much less inviting.

Sentimental Favorite in the Indy 500

2009-05-22T22:32:00.000-07:00

I’ve recently come to the full realization that the Indianapolis 500 is my favorite sporting event of the year. I guess I have probably realized this for a long time now, but I never sat down and acknowledged it so fully until this past year. I have literally interrupted vacations for the Indianapolis 500, including once making my wife sit in a hotel room in California for a few extra hours one Memorial Day weekend while I watched the race. I’m still mad that I missed Arie Luyendyk’s first win in the race because I was graduating from high school and my high school has for years held its graduation ceremony at the same time as the race … despite the fact that it’s only a few hours from Indianapolis in an area heavy with racing fans. Every May, I watch qualifications runs and Bump Day, I pore over statistics about the drivers, and I reread about past races. I love a lot of sports and, outside of Indy car racing, I’m not much of an auto racing fan, but for some reason the Indy 500 is my favorite sports event. I suppose when I have more time to reflect on it, I’ll try to understand why that is. For now, though, with the race happening this weekend, I want, as a fan, to offer some public declaration of support for my sentimental favorite: Sarah Fisher.

Much is made of Danica Patrick as a female driver in a male-dominated enterprise. I root for Danica and certainly support her, but there is little question that her questionable use of sexuality is a major aspect of her popularity. On the other hand, Sarah Fisher’s public persona is much more rooted in her connection to driving. With this Sunday’s Indianapolis 500, she will become the woman who has made the most starts in the race, as she runs her eighth Indy 500 race, surpassing her current tie with Lyn St. James. She is also running her second consecutive race as not only a driver, but a racecar owner. She may not have a high chance to win, as the bigger teams tend to dominate the Indy Racing League races. As a smaller outfit, it’s difficult to maintain the car and speed of the larger teams. Yet, there is always a possibility and Fisher’s experience and ability only add to that chance. For her talent, her experience, and the honorable way in which she carries the mantle of female auto racers, I’m rooting for Sarah Fisher this Sunday.

Oh yeah … and her appearance on The Daily Show this past Monday doesn’t hurt either.

Race and Politics in South Bend

2009-05-18T13:38:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, while we were discussing the topic of some folks protesting Barack Obama’s commencement speech and honorary degree at the University of Notre Dame, my wife asked me if I thought racism had something to do with it. I took her question to mean an inquiry about whether or not people who didn’t like Obama for some reason explicitly involving race were using another issue as a means of expressing their dislike for him. I responded with a no—that I didn’t think it was racism and that the same folks who have expressed these concerns about Obama have done similarly for white folks as well. Then, later that day, I got to thinking about it …

On the surface, I agree with my earlier comment. I don’t think this is explicitly an issue of race. However, upon further thought, I think it does involve racism and can be instructive about how racism is conceptualized and discussed. Here’s what occurred to me:

I think it’s a fairly safe assumption that it has been and continues to be an easier path for a black politician to have a chance to run for president as a Democrat than as a Republican. That’s based on my sense of how Democrats and Republicans are perceived and how they present themselves in terms of how they represent black constituencies and issues of significance to those constituencies. I’m not meaning to inject my own political leaning there. While personally I do believe that Democrats tend to be better than Republicans at recognizing and addressing issues of significance to black men and women, I have plenty of criticisms of how Democrats handle these issues in addition to criticisms of how Republicans handle these issues. So, my argument here is not based on who actually does represent black interests better. Rather, I’m arguing that within popular consciousnesses, Democrats tend to be aligned much more fully with black candidates. Certainly, some black candidates have run for office as Republicans (J.C. Watts, Michael Steele, Lynn Swan, Ken Blackwell and Alan Keyes (who was among the protestors at Notre Dame this weekend) come to mind); however, the path to the possibility of presidential candidacy has tended to be more associated with the Democratic Party. So, then, it seems to be little surprise that Obama ran for and was elected president as a Democrat.

As the presidential candidate of the national party, he is also expected to maintain the party platform. This is as true of Democrats as it is Republicans and it tends to be especially true on the issue of abortion. It’s quite doubtful that at this moment in American history any Democrat could gain the party’s nomination for president while advocating a pro-life position and it’s just as doubtful that at this moment in American history any Republican could gain the party’s nomination for president while advocating a pro-choice position. One only needs to look at the lengths that Rudy Giuliani went to in 2007 and 2008 to distance his own pro-choice stance from what he might do as president. It’s quite conceivable, then, that Obama’s own private position on abortion could range anywhere from falling right in line with the party position to veering slightly from it to differing quite widely from it, and that, as a Democrat, he is asked to maintain adherence to the party’s position regardless of his own personal feelings.

Putting these two together, then, the protests of Obama do involve racism. They do so in that they help perpetuate a system that continually closes off opportunities for minorities (in this case African Americans). In this specific case, saying someone does not deserve honor based on her or his stance on abortion is not explicitly excluding a person based on race. However, when we look at the structure of contemporary United States politics, there is definitely an argument, based on what I have just described, that saying someone like Obama does not deserve honor does perpetuate exclusion of African Americans. If we work with the assertion that a black candidate has a better chance to run for president as a Democrat and the assertion that a Democratic candidate for president my maintain a pro-choice position, then a position that holds the candidate’s position on abortion against that candidate—particularly when tying it to what is defined as “honorable”—does significantly contribute to the reduction of opportunities for black men and women. In the process, it does reinforce racism.

Perhaps this is too many suppositions on my part. Maybe I’m assuming too much about the ability of a black Republican to run for president or about what is asked of candidates on both sides in terms of their abortion stances or about the degree to which Obama might differ in private opinion from the party position. I’ll concede that I am working a bit from supposition, but I’ll also argue that I have not made any assertions here that I think are particularly egregious and that the suppositions that I have made do appear to have significant basis in reality. I’ll also argue that they do point to a broader point about racism that needs to be a much fuller part of the discussion of issues of race in the United States. That point is that racism is a system of advantages and disadvantages, opportunities and lacks of opportunities, rights and denials of rights. Racism is not just explicit exclusion on the basis of racial identity. It’s a much deeper structure in which differences in status and opportunity that were established long ago continue to be reinforced and perpetuated. It’s deeply embedded into the everyday lives and activities that constitute United States society. And I believe we need to be much more willing to be cognizant of how deeply everyday things that may on the surface seem to have little to do with race do involve perpetuation of racial inequities at deeper, more complex levels. Obama’s public position on abortion is at least in part a product of the complexities of American politics. Idealistic pronouncements of the character and honor of an individual based on her or his position on abortion fail to recognize the significance of the political system in affecting those positions. In the process, they fail in adequately attending to the complex political realities of the ways that racism, sexism, heterosexism, classism, and other forms of discrimination work and in acknowledging how structures of society that are based in these forms of discrimination must be managed and negotiated as individuals seek opportunities.

As someone who is a self-described moderate on abortion, I believe those critical of the position of Obama and the Democratic party on abortion should continue to vocalize these criticisms. I would even say that what I have argued here does not suggest that they should not protest in favor of what they believe is right. I would, though, ask these folks to consider the many different kinds of ramifications of their protests and the statements that they have made about Obama and others in their protests. Indeed, while I do not agree with Obama on everything, one of the things that I very much like about him is the interest in opening up dialogue on various issues that he appears to promote. I believe that Obama’s commencement speech at the University of Notre Dame showed this quality once again—a quality that seems to put him in stark contrast on so many levels from his predecessor, whose administration seemed time and again to paint folks who disagreed as dishonorable, unpatriotic, and many other similar terms, rather than as compatriots in dialogue with honest and important differences of opinion with which they should engage.

In the end, I believe that both sides have a point about abortion. This is an issue of life and how we define what is a life worth protecting. At the same, though, this is very much an issue of women’s rights and individual civil liberties. The problem, as Obama himself suggested in his commencement speech, is that so often the rhetoric of both sides seems unwilling to engage the other side in meaningful dialogue, unwilling to accept that the other side has an important point to address, and unwilling to work with the other side in addressing this issue. In the end, I also believe that looking at abortion from a myopic view that does not recognize the complexities that inform positions of individuals and politicians when it comes to this issue is entirely inadequate and inappropriate. This is exactly why I do not like the way in which abortion is used as the sole means of judging a candidate’s acceptability. To the many conservative Catholics out there who vote for Republicans simply on the issue of abortion and who have even at times called for excommunication of politicians who are pro-choice, I would ask how they even vote at all. After all, the Catholic Church has come out in opposition to the Iraq War, the death penalty, and any number of other things that Republicans support—many of which also involve issues of “life.” You, my conservative companions, must have some sort of complex way of justifying all of those things in order to vote on the one issue of abortion alone. Would you like me to demonize your views on abortion and other issues or would you rather I try to understand them? If you picked the first option, then how can you ever hope to change anyone’s views or at least have people listen to you with consideration for your views? That would be seem to be the antithesis of what is being advocated in that scenario. If you picked the second option, then how can you in good conscience not extend that same kind of treatment to the very politicians whom you demonize for their positions on abortion, as if they, too, don’t have to negotiate the same tricky, complex world of contemporary American thought and politics that you have to negotiate in order to come to your own positions?

More Props to Gregg Doyel

2009-04-30T07:40:00.000-07:00

With the Kentucky Derby fast approaching, I want to reiterate my sentiments about horse racing (which I expressed a year ago). Honestly, though, I don't think I could have put it better than Gregg Doyel did today.

Flaming Lip Service to Democracy

2009-04-29T20:18:00.000-07:00

While leafing through my university's student newspaper this morning, I came across this story from the Associated Press about Oklahoma's adoption of the song "Do You Realize?" by the Flaming Lips as the official state rock song. The gist of the story is that the song earned the most votes in an online contest, but then enough Oklahoma legislators voted against making it the official state rock song to keep it from being declared as such. Reasons cited included being upset about use of foul language by band members and being offended by bandmember Michael Ivins once wearing a red tee-shirt with a yellow hammer-and-sickle symbol (a symbol that denotes the Communist Party) on it.

I was especially struck by the statement by Republican Representative Corey Holland, who said, "The great thing about this country is he has the right to make whatever statement he wants to make. I have the right to be offended by that.” The problem here is exactly the problem with so many politicians, especially on the conservative side, who offer us rhetorical constructions of equality without recognizing the relations of power that are involved in the things that they are discussing. Here, Holland suggests that he and Ivins are on equal terms in public discourse--that Ivins' right to express himself with the tee-shirt and Holland's right to be offended by it are on equal footing. On the one hand, in a situation free of hierarchies of power, I might agree with Holland. These are both legitimate forms of expression and personal opinion. However, this situation is not free of hierarchies of power. Namely, as a state representative, Holland had the power to vote against adoption of the Flaming Lips' song as the state rock song and, thus, join those who kept the song from being declared the state song. In the process, Holland and others like him could assert their right to be offended over the right of the Flaming Lips to express themselves, which is exactly how censorship and marginalization develop and proceed. In this instance, Holland has a certain form of power that makes his statement, at best, misleading, and, more likely, dishonest.

This is indicative of a larger problem that exists with much discussion of rights, opportunities, and equality in the United States. In the name of these kinds of idealistic, oversimplified maxims about equality of rights and opportunities, our public discourse so often neglects the power relations that make things unequal and that privilege some perspectives over others. Until we become much more willing to talk about these issues of power and be self-reflexive in our discussion of these issues, I'm afraid we'll keep spinning our wheels, not really addressing issues and not really pursuing a better democracy. And I'll keep reading stories like this and feeling incensed at the state of public discourse in the United States like I was this morning.

Fortunately, this story has what, from my perspective at least, is a happy ending: The governor of Oklahoma signed an executive order declaring the song the official rock song of the state. This is, of course, a solution that does not divorce itself from the issues of power that I have been discussing, as in this case the governor asserted his power over that of the legislature. The difference between me and Holland--a difference that I think makes a world of difference--is that I'll acknowledge that that issue of power is involved and that, even while I am glad for the governor's decision, I acknowledge that the process by which the song was adopted remains a reflection of a system that continues to need work if it is to approximate a fuller democracy.

Remembering Bea Arthur

2009-04-26T20:02:00.000-07:00

As I’m sure many of you know already, Bea Arthur passed away at the age of 86 on Friday, April 25. She’s most known for her leading roles in Maude and The Golden Girls, but there are two clips that stand out to me in remembering Arthur. First is her contribution to Comedy Central’s roast of Pamela Anderson in 2005, which can be seen here. In this clip, Arthur has me laughing silly. I think it demonstrates just how good Arthur was at comedic performance. Second is her skit on the Star Wars Holiday Special back in 1978, which can be seen here. The entire venture of that holiday special reeks with goofiness. Arthur’s performance, including her bit alongside Harvey Korman, who passed away last year, fits right in.

I think the acting world has lost a great one.

Happy Earth Day with Kenny Loggins

2009-04-22T12:44:00.000-07:00

So, Happy Earth Day, everyone! To commemorate it, I'm wearing my I Love Recycling shirt and I've been listening to my favorite "green" song all day: Kenny Loggins' "Conviction of the Heart." Here's a YouTube video that someone made that uses the original, along with pictures to celebrate Earth Day. Additionally, here, one of my favorites--Richard Marx--teams up with Loggins live to perform the song. Finally, here is a video in which someone has set scenes from The Lord of the Rings films to the song--a fitting combination given the anti-Industrialist themes of the series.

Fair and Foul in Remembering Integration

2009-04-15T15:33:00.000-07:00

Today marks the 62nd anniversary of the date on which Jackie Robinson played his first game with the Brooklyn Dodgers, thereby breaking the race barrier in major league baseball that had existed since the 1880s. Over the years since the event occurred, particularly after the first decade or so after it happened, the integration of Major League Baseball in 1947 has tended to be celebrated by Major League Baseball and many others as a unquestionably progressive act. That kind of portrayal of the integration of major league baseball as a unilaterally progressive event stems from a number of sources and types of arguments. While I do not think that Jules Tygiel means to make so broad a claim, his argument in Baseball’s Great Experiment: Jackie Robinson and his Legacy that the integration of major league baseball significantly affected the Civil Rights Movement certainly helps fuel that kind of celebration. Meanwhile, such broad claims are offered by the likes of David Horowitz, who has used the integration of major league baseball as an excuse to argue that a free market system always does the right thing in the end.

The problem with Horowitz’s view and with the celebration of integration as so unilaterally progressive is that the way that major league baseball integrated is not without significant elements of exclusion and marginalization. While this critique is part of my own work, both in my dissertation a few years ago and as part of my argument in a forthcoming article in Journal of Communication Studies, my arguments owe debt for their framing to other works in which various elements of the critique can be found, including, among other places, in passing in Harry Edwards’ The Revolt of the Black Athlete and more fully in William C. Rhoden’s Forty Million Dollar Slaves: The Rise, Fall, and Redemption of the Black Athlete and in Brad Snyder’s Beyond the Shadow of the Senators: The Untold Story of the Homestead Grays and the Integration of Baseball. As one part of the critique goes, the integration of major league baseball consolidated control of professional baseball into white hands. At the time that Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier, the Negro Leagues, which offered black ballplayers the opportunity to play, also offered black men and women very viable business opportunities in the forms of the professional baseball teams that they owned and ran. Within fifteen years of the integration of major league baseball, the Negro Leagues were defunct and, to this day, major league baseball remains largely a white-owned enterprise, with one Latino owner (Arte Moreno/Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim), one team owned by an American subsidiary of a Japanese company (Nintendo of America/Seattle Mariners), and no African American owners. In other words, while integration did allow for black ballplayers to play major league baseball, it did so at the expense of black ownership and management of teams. It could have been done differently. For instance, Major League Baseball could have invited some of the Negro League teams to join the National League and the American League as new teams. After all, within that same fifteen years after integration that saw the evaporation of the Negro Leagues, both the National League and the American League added new teams as Major League Baseball expanded. By expanding in a way to include black ownership, integration could have been done on at least a little more equitable of a basis. In this manner, integration of the major leagues echoed other types of integration. The same kind of consolidation under white control occurred within media organizations, like newspapers. It also happened in education after the famous Brown v. Board of Education case overturned segregation. The result? In the newspapers industry, while a few black journalists got jobs, many black reporters, editors and managers were now without work and owners of black newspapers saw their businesses go under. In education, black students now went to school with white students, but integration took place in white schools, leaving black schools to close and black teachers, administrators, and staff members jobless, despite years of experience and educational background. To this day, these inequities remain far from being overcome. The same holds for Major League Baseball.

So, while there certainly may be positives associated with the 1947 integration of Major League Baseball, it is not the unilaterally progressive event that it tends to be characterized as having been. Rather, it was a step toward a particular path toward democracy—a step in one direction among a number of choices for direction and a step that needs to be followed by other steps that work toward further progress. For years, Major League Baseball has used April 15 to pat itself on the back, celebrating the event of integration and suggesting how this shows the usefulness and importance of Major League Baseball to United States society. Today, though, as I looked at how the 1947 integration was being characterized on Major League Baseball’s official website, I was happy to see what I think is improvement along these lines. The attention was focused much more on the person of Robinson and the struggle that he endured as the one who integrated the major leagues. This included recognition of various programs that have been developed to work toward equality and progress involving issues of race. Perhaps Major League Baseball is listening to some of the voices who have been offering critiques of how integration has been remembered. I’d like to hope so and it is nice to see what appears to be a more progressive take on the ways to remember integration. Still, it does continue to be situated in a form of paternalism, as giving scholarships and developing programs continue a kind of noblesse oblige tradition, whereby those in power offer some opportunities to the less-empowered—i.e., “give back to the community”—yet do so in ways that reinforce their own standing as the empowered, that attempt not to disrupt the status quo too much and, thus, that don’t really do a lot in terms of altering the deeper structural inequities of society. Major League Baseball is taking up the “there’s-still-a-long-way-to-go” kind of message, yet it must recognize that its own structures do continue to be part of the problem. While certainly just a step and not a cure-all, I think that making significant moves to ensure African American ownership of at least a couple of teams in the near future would be a step in the right direction along those lines. The likes of Horowitz would cry “foul” at this as the kind of affirmative action type of policy that he and other conservatives rail against, associating it with concepts like “reverse racism” and suggesting that it is “special treatment” of minorities that takes us away from really treating people as equals. I’d argue that it’s only “fair” to compensate for the special treatment that white-owned teams received in 1947 when the major leagues integrated, as well as the special treatment in 1961, 1962, 1969, 1977, 1993, and 1998, when white owners received newly created expansion teams.

Fuzzy Math

2009-04-13T13:23:00.000-07:00

Given the importance of “tradition” to the Masters golf tournament, I’ll borrow that word to note that I have been making a tradition of not watching the Masters since the 2003 publicity surrounding Martha Burk’s letter to Augusta National chairman Hootie Johnson asking Johnson to admit a woman to the golf club and Johnson’s subsequent public refusal to do so. As I mentioned a year ago at this time, I struck upon a new idea for how I’d like this to be handled. So, once again, I’m hoping (I’m sure in vain) for someone from this year’s tournament to donate all or part of his winnings to the National Organization for Women. In the meantime, I watched the tournament for the first time in 7 years and my attention was caught by something involving similar issues as my tradition not to watch …

On ESPN’s broadcast of the Masters much was made of former champion Fuzzy Zoeller’s last round at the championship on Friday. Former champions are invited to continue to play in the tournament in perpetuity, though many stop playing in the championship once they feel they are no longer able to post respectable scores. This year, both Zoeller and Gary Player announced that that time had come. For Player, this meant he played in an all-time record 52 Masters tournaments. For Zoeller, this meant 31. Though both shot well better than most everyday golfers would shoot, neither was close to making the cut for the weekend and, thus, with the conclusion of play on Friday, the Masters playing days for each had come to a close.

In the case of Zoeller, much of his greatest fame as a golfer came in conjunction with the Masters golf tournament … for better and for worse. On the positive side, he remains to this day the last player to have won the tournament is his very first appearance (and the only person to do so other than the first two champions of the tournament). On the negative side, Zoeller is very much still remembered for racially insensitive remarks made after Tiger Woods won his first Masters tournament in 1997. The former point about Zoeller’s career was mentioned quite readily in interviews with Zoeller and coverage of the event during his last round of competition in the tournament. The latter point about his career, I suppose predictably, was not. To an extent, I know why Zoeller’s 1997 comments were not discussed. Often, at times when people’s milestones are marked, those commemorating these people emphasize the positives of their lives. Additionally, there is always the practical aspect of getting through the interview with Zoeller, since he might not do or continue with the interview if he was asked about the 1997 comments (though this interview in Golf Digest did bring it up, even though it was in a way that allowed it to be framed as having nothing to do with race). Yet, I think neither of these reasons is an appropriate excuse. Zoeller’s comments in 1997 do not alone define him and he does deserve the opportunity to make up for them, but that’s exactly the point. Making up for these comments would involve active and ongoing recognition of them. I don’t know that the “he’s put it behind him” kind of idea was explicitly at work in ESPN’s coverage of Zoeller, but the coverage rang in a manner that is very reminiscent of that sentiment. Just as athletes and other public figures who have been involved in activities that are deemed inappropriate are often said to have “gotten past it” or “put it behind them,” so to are comments involving racism and sexism handled in this way. The problem here is that real reflection on any kind of inappropriate behavior means continual acknowledgement of the potential to do it again and vigilance to help ensure that one does not do so again. This works personally (e.g., I recall what I did and my potential ability to do it again so that I do not personally misbehave again) as well as structurally (e.g., I acknowledge how specific behaviors perpetuate racism, sexism, exclusion, etc.). Zoeller’s retirement from competition could have been used to draw attention to the continual need to be vigilant of the many ways racism works in society. Instead, it’s as if racism does not even exist—i.e., we’ve “gotten past it.”

Zoeller’s final round could also have been used to draw attention to sexism and issues of gender as well. Much was made of the fact that Zoeller’s daughter, Gretchen, caddied for him during the tournament and, thus, Fuzzy was able to share the experience with her. Yet, to this day, August National continues to lack female members. So, Gretchen Zoeller was allowed on the grounds as his caddie and could play the course as his guest, since he’s a member by virtue of having once won the tournament, but she has yet to have the opportunity to join. Of course, Augusta National’s defense has for the past six years been that they do not have a rule against female membership; they simply have not yet had the right opportunity to admit a female member. So, they might (and I’m sure some would) argue that there’s nothing necessarily keeping Gretchen from joining the club. … Well, of course, nothing but the same old informal blocks that have continued to keep women out for decades and for the past six years despite public attention to the lack of female membership … the same old informal blocks that create the glass ceiling phenomenon and keep women (and racial and ethnic minorities) from getting opportunities in not just sports, but organizations, groups, and events across the board. It, then, stood as a rather (at best) awkward and (more to the point) patronizing and paternalistic sight to see a woman working in service to a man at an institution that denies membership to women. Again, though, this awkwardness and paternalism remained unaddressed in the coverage of the tournament. In this case, it’s as if sexism does not exist. After all, as the narrative went, Gretchen got to enjoy being her father’s caddie and share in his experience.

Fuzzy was applauded as he walked off the course and he was celebrated as a Masters champion by ESPN as they covered the tournament, but here’s an idea that might have been worthy of even more applause and celebration: Especially since he’s going out anyway (and, thus, does not have so much to lose), why not use this as an opportunity to draw attention to issues of discrimination by asking Augusta National to offer membership to his daughter? Her physical presence as caddie already potentially serves to draw attention to the fact that women can do what men do on the golf course, so there’s no good reason to exclude them. Why not, then, at the end of the round, during your interview, note what Gretchen did as caddie, state what this illustrates about women’s abilities to play and manage rounds of golf, and ask Augusta National to offer Gretchen membership? While race and gender are not the same and do not work the same way, the attention to discrimination that such a gesture could bring would certainly do a lot to atone for the offensive comments Fuzzy offered 12 years ago. Fuzzy could even have addressed that, saying something to the effect of how, as one who has been guilty of reinforcing prejudice before, he has learned the value of diversity and respect for others and he’d like to see this addressed further by the admission of women as members of Augusta National. Then, we’ve got coverage of it, it can easily be discussed in an interview with Fuzzy, and he can leave a little more positive of a legacy for himself.

Of course, none of this happened and coverage of the event continued the long tradition of keeping the United States from productively talking about issues of gender and race. For a country that claims so often to be aligned with freedom and equality, that tradition just doesn’t add up.

The BYOUty of It All

2009-04-07T12:19:00.001-07:00

Maybe blogging is serving as therapy for me as I cope with last night men's college basketball proceedings. Though, truth be told, I was prepared for UNC to beat MSU and I'm not THAT upset. MSU had quite a successful season and losing in the final game to a UNC team that was clearly on a mission from this time last year isn't anything to feel bad about. Or maybe I'm blogging because a set of papers is sitting in a folder on my computer waiting to be grading in the same sort of way that that little stack of money follows people around on Geico commercials. I'm not sure how to explain why I'm already blogging again, but here goes ...

It seems like one of the greatest beauties of YouTube is the ability to find and rewatch all kinds of things that you haven't been able to see in years or even decades.

I mean, I've drifted down memory lane watching plenty of late-1980s videos, especially this one, this one, and this one recently. I even found this video, which I hadn't seen since its run on Dial MTV in 1988 and then subsequent fade from existence anywhere I might find it.

I also recently found an Arrow shirt commercial that I remember seeing once in 1987, really liking, and never seeing again ... until a few weeks ago when it dawned me to search for it on YouTube.

And who can forget the best performance ever to appear on American Idol (at least in my opinion)?

Today, this video is making me feel quite a bit better.

Gregg Doyel Update #3: Thanks, Gregg

2009-04-06T15:40:00.000-07:00

I was working on my Master’s degree at Michigan State University when the Mateen Cleaves-Morris Peterson “Flintstones” teams that went on to win a national championship were developing. They won the championship two years after I left East Lansing. My last spring there was their first trip to the “Sweet Sixteen” round of the NCAA tournament, where they lost to, coincidentally enough, North Carolina. Since my time at MSU, the Spartans have become my favorite big-conference men’s college basketball team. (They’re second overall to Bowling Green, of course.)

With that in mind, I’m quite ecstatic that the Spartans are in the national championship game tonight. I think it will be tough to win, as North Carolina is a great team, but I’m excited and hopeful nonetheless. So, I’m quite ready to bask in the glow of praise for the team. However, I’m not willing to do so at the sake of decency, which brings me to Gregg Doyel …

A little less than a year ago, I critiqued CBS Sportsline’s Gregg Doyel for his take on Danica Patrick’s first win as an Indy Car driver. This led to a summer exchange between Gregg and I that I was thankful for and that I reported on here, here, and here on this blog. Well … in the spirit of goodwill, it’s only appropriate to give Gregg some props when I think he’s got something right. (This isn’t to say that he hasn’t had anything else right over the last year. Far from it. Rather, it is to say that this is the first chance I’ve had to note it and write about it.) In a column that Gregg posted this weekend, he argues that all of the stories about how the Michigan State University men’s basketball team is bringing relief to the economic woes of Detroit are not only untrue, but “insulting to true suffering.” While I hope he’s wrong about the outcome of the game (though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have good points about the MSU-UNC matchup), I have to agree very much with his analysis of the “fairy tale” about MSU alleviating Detroit’s pain.

As I see it, this “fairy tale” is nothing much more than two things: (1) a way for media covering the event to spin a dramatic story that doesn’t have to be realistic as long as it’s dramatic and emotional, which is something that the United States media love to do (and something that television in general strives on) and (2) an attempt by sports media (as well as other media that isn’t directly covering sport, but is invested with the sports industry in one of a number of ways) to offer justification for the importance of sport, even if the justification is not wholly appropriate or correct. In the specific case of Michigan State University supposedly bringing relief to Detroit, it comes across as awfully smug and patronizing for sportscasters and sportswriters, who are doing okay even in the current economy, to be making these kinds of claims about those who are not so well off. Frankly, it’s sickening to hear over and over again and, so, I’m thankful to Gregg Doyel (who, it should be noted, writes for the website of the same media outlet that broadcasts the game tonight) for pointing this out.

If I Don't Listen to the Talk of the Town ...

2009-04-04T03:36:00.000-07:00

I think I’ll start this post with a nice little ditty by Go West.

Now on to the topic at hand …

I generally like the work of Rob Neyer. He seems fairly progressive in his viewpoints. After all, I was applauding his take on Alex Rodriguez and performance-enhancing drugs a few weeks ago. He even gave money to Dennis Kucinich back in 2004. However, I found one of his latest blog posts to be rather un-progressive. In it, he concludes the following about Eri Yoshida, a 17-year-old Japanese knuckleballer who just made her professional debut: “You have to admire her dream and her persistence and her skills (or skill). But you can't play if you don't have the requisite physical tools, too.” This is based on her height and weight of 5’0” and 114 pounds (and, presumably, her gender may have something to do with this as well, even if Neyer isn’t consciously recognizing it). The problem here is that it’s indicative of how sports and athletes are viewed in general. Often, this is represented as a matter of people simply not having the body types or physical characteristics to engage in a sport, at least at its highest levels. For instance, during the Olympics last summer, NBC ran a story about how Michael Phelps’ swimming success could be attributed to a number of physical characteristics that he possesses. (Nope, the ability to relax by smoking pot wasn’t one of them …) That story reflected the sense that most of us wouldn’t be able to do what Phelps does, even if we tried. A similar sentiment is at work in Neyer’s take on Yoshida. He’s already dismissing her based on her physical characteristics, no matter how much she tries.

As James L. Cherney points out in an essay worth reading in the edited volume Case Studies in Sport Communication, one of the problematic aspects of sport is that bodies that are deemed “normal” for sporting activities, especially on their highest levels, are actually usually “abnormal” bodies in that they are not typical of the populations from which they come. Cherney’s analysis focuses on how disability then becomes defined problematically, particularly when applied to athletes such as Casey Martin. Applied beyond how “disability” is defined, Cherney’s analysis offers a useful perspective for understanding the inequities that are already set up in what are and are not deemed appropriate bodies types for sports, while his analysis also offers a useful perspective for understanding how the rules of sports serve to privilege certain body types over others.

Back to Neyer, then, how progressive is the progressive here? Perhaps sports will never completely be void of inequities based on physical characteristics of bodies (it’s possible that it’s inherent once we establish rules for how the games are played), but what good is it to further denigrate efforts that might potentially challenge or address those inequities? If Ishida has found a way to play baseball at a high level with her physical characteristics (and I intentionally do not say “despite” them here, because that’s not the sentiment I intend, as it would further reinforce the inequity, I think), shouldn’t we be much more supportive and certainly not so dismissive? Otherwise, we’re basically establishing a rather non-progressive, anti-democratic system of privilege based on birthright.

Fortunately, judging by the comments that readers have posted in conjunction with this piece by Neyer, many folks are calling Neyer out on similar kinds of grounds. To echo one of the themes of these readers, what has happened to the intelligent writing that many of us have come to associate with Neyer? I think at least part of the answer may be the way that he’s blogging, which very well may make this a consequence of the ESPN opinion-producing machinery (which, then, of course, makes it one more manifestation of how the “free market” of capitalism isn’t the freedom-of-opportunity place that so many people claim it to be). Neyer’s blog with several entries a day do appear to become a bit reactionary at times, sacrificing quality for quantity, perhaps. This may be part of the dilemma that blogging faces as a medium, but I’d like to think it’s a dilemma that can be addressed and overcome. I’d like to think that we can post several times a day and maintain quality even as we increase quantity. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking and maybe it’s wishful thinking for me to have my take on Ishida as well. Maybe I’m being too hard on Rob. I mean, inevitably, don’t we all have times when our performance just isn’t the best?

Hmmm … seems I’ve hit on the theme of another pair of recent posts from Neyer’s blog, one of which discusses evaluation of performance of umpires and the second of which involves Neyer defending his progressiveness when it was called into question by reader based on the first post. Along these lines, Jurgen Habermas has argued for an “ideal” public sphere of civil discourse based in rational argumentation, in which all claims are up for discussion and, thus, must withstand the judgment of rationality in order to hold up. Similar ideas have been evoked more popularly recently by Al Gore, who even writes about the potential of the Internet as a medium that might provide more equitable spaces for discussion. Having read a reasonable enough number of Neyer’s columns, I get the feeling (and maybe I’m wrong) that he’s not in opposition to these kinds of views of discourse and argumentation. They do, I think, suffer at times from the limitations of their modernist philosophical bent (see, for instance, John Durham Peters’ critique of Gore in the book Speaking into the Air), but I think there is something of use in positing a kind of space for discourse like this. (One of the problems, I think, is the use of rationality as the only basis for evaluating arguments. That’s not to say it can’t be a part of the criteria, but that it’s not appropriate to make it the only part.) As I understand this kind of space for discourse, if I do make an argument that does not hold up, I accept it as such, recognize my error, and add that to my storehouse of knowledge for future arguments so that I might do better next time. I am certainly not dismissed from the circle for making a bad argument. I get the feeling that’s at least part of what Neyer is saying about umpires. We’re not going to fire or otherwise discipline folks for every little mistake, but we might remedy consistent problems in performance by this kind of monitoring. I mean, Neyer does have at least some understanding of such surveillance, since his work for his job—i.e., writing pieces that appear online—is open for public judgment where folks like me can call him out when we think he’s wrong.

That all sounds well and good in an idealistic world devoid of power relations. The problem is that we do live within power relations that do affect what happens. So, while, in the modernistic dream, we are able to discuss everything and observe everything openly and honestly, one of the reasons that people can’t be open and honest in our society is because many times their ideas or some aspects of their lives or personhoods might be held against them as the basis to discipline them, at the very least by excluding them from or marginalizing them within conversations and, even more dramatically, by imprisoning them or imposing other actions against their lives, their liberties, and their pursuits of happiness, to adapt a particularly prominent phrase associated with democracy. I think I’m pretty much all for working toward that more ideal space for discourse, as long as we bear in mind the politics of these power relations and we negotiate them accordingly so that individuals and groups are not unfairly excluded, marginalized, and/or disciplined. (Hmmm … I suppose this is the perfect time for one more reading recommendation, this time for one of my favorite books ever: Discipline and Punish by Michel Foucault.) I think part of that project is advocating not only an ideal space of discourse, but also an ideal space of thought and action as well. And, thus, we’re back to Ishida. If we dismiss the opportunity and possibility in what she is doing from the get-go, then how, I ask you, have we helped any of this?

Holy MACkerel!

2009-03-22T20:37:00.000-07:00

Okay, a very cheesy pun, I know, but well worth it because ...

Today was a very good day for the Mid-American Conference.

In the NCAA women's basketball tournament, Ball State defeated one of the most prestigious programs in NCAA women's basketball history--none other than two-time defending champion Tennessee. Yes, I know it was a down year for the Volunteers, with their roster loaded with first-year players, but, still, this win was significant, particularly because it marked the first time that Tennesee failed to advance to the Final Sixteen in the history of the tournament. Way to go, Cardinals ...

And, meanwhile, several hours before that game took place in Bowling Green, Kentucky, another women's basketball game was held in Bowling Green, Ohio. In that one, which I had the thrill of attending, Bowling Green State University defeated Syracuse in the second round of the women's NIT tournament. Way to go, Falcons, too ...

That's a win over a Big East opponent and a win over an SEC opponent in the same day. On Tuesday Ball State is scheduled to play a Big 12 opponent (Iowa State) and on Thursday night BGSU is scheduled to host a Big Ten opponent (Indiana). Is it too much to ask that both teams soar to another pair of victories over big conference teams? I sure hope not ...

Right and Left

2009-03-20T22:48:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was a kid my dad had a sign that hung in his office that read "War never determines who is right. It only determines who is left." Over the years, I've consistently thought that that was a profound statement that certainly applies to violence and warfare ... and, for that matter, sports ...

And so, with that in mind, the Arizona Wildcats men's basketball team defeated Utah by a score of 84-71 Friday evening and that surely fuels many to suggest that that "proves" that Arizona belongs in the tournament, despite the debate that has gone on about that since their selection to the field this past Sunday (though, I appreciate the counterview to that offered by Gary Parrish on CBS Sportsline). As Gary points out, this doesn't "prove" anything. Many teams not included in the field could have beaten Utah and Arizona happened to do so as well. And, of course, if they defeat Cleveland State on Sunday, which isn't a foregone conclusion, but is certainly a definite possibility, then Arizona will be in the Final 16 and that will just provide more light under the fire for those arguing that this "proves" that they deserve to be there. Again, it doesn't "prove" anything, but it does show that the matchup worked for Arizona to advance and it could do so again on Sunday. Put them against one of the other 5 seeds from the tournament (Illinois, Purdue, and Florida State) and perhaps Arizona doesn't win.

This is about more than Arizona, though. It's about the whole idea that the tournament decides who is the national champion, the best, etc. It only decides who the champion is because we have agreed to allow it to do so, but it doesn't necessarily mean that team was the best. It just means that that team won 6 games in row, whether by luck, by outperforming 6 other teams (if even by small margins), or simply because a team received the matchups that allowed it them to advance.

And, so, the NCAA tournament doesn't necessarily determine who is right (read: best). It only determines who is left.