Seth Godin, aka His Baldness, is a prolific writer.  Many think he’s a genius.  I won’t weigh in on that, but I will say that his post, The triumph of coal marketing, was provocative.
He shares what for many are “annoying facts” about energy.  As we sprint to global judgment about nuclear power based on the extraordinary engineering achievement in Fukushima (of did I say the last nail in the nuclear coffin based on the tragedy?), and are overwhelmed with stories about how nuclear plant licenses are dead in the water, and spinach is generating ticks on the Geiger counter, His Baldness shares the above image.

Of course there is extraordinary power in this image, but my guess is the impact on this story, through the media as currently controlled, will be minimal.

Today was one of those glorious fall days in New England when you fill your lungs with fresh air and soak up the scenery – leaves, bricks, sky, and think – how could I be this lucky? It was a typical Sunday for me in many respects. I went to Haverhill with my brother Tom, to visit our father who lives in a nursing home. The one thing that was out of the ordinary was that we attended a political rally in Washington Square for Charlie Baker. The square was filled with enthusiastic, sign-toting supporters and we even got to meet Curt Schilling, the famous Yankee fan.

A little bit about my brother: Tom lives in a group home for developmentally disabled adults in Salem, MA, that’s operated by Northeast ARC (Association for R*$&* Citizens). Since moving there several years ago, he’s become healthier and more active than he had been for most of his adult life. He attends a day habilitation program that he enjoys very much. His house is comfortable, roomy and staffed by caring, hard-working people. It’s a wonderful situation, and it’s funded in large part by the state of Massachusetts.

Some people might wonder why I support Charlie Baker, who has pledged to cut government spending and employees. It seems like it might go against my brother’s interests. But I believe that a vote for Charlie is a vote for Tom and folks like him.

The thing I have asked myself is whether our state is on a sustainable path. With the expansion in state jobs, government programs and pensions, the answer is clearly “no.” What’s going to happen when push comes to shove? Do you think Tom and his housemates stand a chance against the union folks and pensioners? Do you think the bureaucrats earning six-figure salaries are going to give up their jobs voluntarily so that my brother can go to his day program? I think not.

Some people would have you believe that limiting government spending will mean catastrophe for the less fortunate, but the opposite is true. If we don’t start taking steps to get control of government pensions and benefits, it’s the people like my brother, those without powerful voices, who will suffer.

The highlight of my glorious fall day in New England was being able to introduce my brother to Charlie. He shook Tom’s hand and mine. He looked me in the eye and thanked us for coming to the rally. It was a brief encounter, one of tens of thousands that I’m sure Charlie has had on the campaign trail. But it was a nice thing for Tom and me.

On Tuesday, Charlie Baker’s name will be on the ballot. But I will be voting for Tom.

The oil spill in the Gulf began on April 20, 2010.  Tomorrow will mark 10 weeks since the disaster began.  It is possible the oil spilled will top 100,000,000 gallons before relief wells can stem the ferocious flow.  That is 10 times the size of the Exxon Valdez disaster.

The earthquake in Haiti took place on January 12, 2010.  By February 1, the “usual suspects” were back in the studio to record “We Are the World, 2010.”  The original, to raise money for food aid for Africa and the US, racked up over $60 million — and that was 25 years ago.  Interestingly, it is a bit difficult to find out how much (if any) money has been raised by this most recent display of humanitarian generosity by pop’s elite.

So where are the scions of pop culture now — pushing three months since the onset — with regard to the tragedy in the Gulf?  Sure, we’ve heard from some highly visible Gulf residents (Carville comes to mind), but where’s Harry Connick Jr., whose certainly didn’t let the Katrina disaster “go to waste,” to paraphrase Rahm “Oh Come, Oh Come” Emanuel.

No one disagrees that this disaster is real and it is severe.  But why have we become so selective in the tragedies we will use our pop-culture capital on to change or fix?

I think you know — the folks who are out in front of these tragedies are part of another interest group — which is aligned with President Obama and his agenda.  To shed light on this disaster, and to raise private resources to address it, is to acknowledge that Obama’s response has been a failure.  And we can’t have that, not among the pop-culture elite.  No.

What do you think?

Greetings from Asbury Park, New Jersey

I grew up in New Jersey — Monmouth County to be specific.  The city next door, Asbury Park, was a burgeoning summer resort town when I was born, but by the mid 1980s, had become a run-down, boarded-up economic nightmare.  Asbury suffered from every form of misfortune of that period: shady business dealings and mob-like fraud and extortion; political corruption; racial tension.  Like many cities during the 1960s, blacks and whites were segregated.  In Asbury Park, the “other side of the tracks” was Springwood Avenue, and most of the African American community lived on the “west side” of Springwood.

Asbury Park High School

In the summers of 1969 and 1970, I played Pop Warner football at Asbury Park High School.  I didn’t really like football.  I was small, not very strong.  I did it because my big brother had — so naturally I would learn to enjoy it.

One night after practice during my first season, as the players split off and headed home, I witnessed a scene I don’t expect I’ll ever forget.  A group of five or six toughs seemed to be putting a younger boy, ironically named Cecil Battle, through a rite of passage.  They rounded up one of the minority players.  And I mean rounded him up.  They formed a circle around him, and led by Battle, took turns tackling him, tossing him to the ground, taking swings at him.  I can only imagine the sight — looking up at that “huddle” of white-helmeted players, each jeering and preparing to take his turn.  If it weren’t for the football equipment, I’m sure the kid would have been badly hurt.  Thankfully one of the coaches saw the fracas and broke it up.

I know now that this was just one isolated example of hazings that were carried out thousands of times in this country, many with far more dreadful outcomes.

The Bradley School, named for the founder of the City of Asbury Park,  was my elementary school.   Students were bused into Asbury Park from local towns that didn’t have their own schools.  In the fall of 1969, in Mr. Scalpati’s sixth-grade class, all of the minority students (of two 35-per classroom sixth grade classes) occupied a single column of seven desks.  In the other section, Mr. Vivino’s class, there wasn’t a single minority student.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I was one of the students who occupied that single rank of seven desks in the sixth grade at Bradley School that year.  I was the young player who was encircled and mugged by Cecil and his tough guy friends.

And if you haven’t guessed by now, I am white.

I ran home that night after football practice, too afraid to take the shorter path by the railroad tracks, but ran all the way just the same, to the cozy all-white neighboring town of Interlaken.  And I went back to practice the next night, though to be honest I was frightened.  I finished out the season, and arrived much bigger and stronger the following summer.

On the Fourth of July of my second Pop Warner summer (1970), five days of racial unrest had broken out which ultimately led to over 100 arrests, shootings, looting, the calling-up of the National Guard.  Buildings burned, and the ashes fell in our front yard.

All the same, even then I understood why so many young people were angry and looking for opportunities to demonstrate that anger.

My father, Joseph N. Dempsey, Esq., was an attorney in Monmouth County for over 50 years.  Among other things he was counsel to the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP).  He worked with leaders in the local black community to publish a Swahili textbook, and then to introduce a class into the language curriculum at Asbury Park High School.  Stafford Thompson, a black man, was his sole partner in his law practice in downtown Asbury Park during the 1970s, and one of the many leaders of the black community who were regular guests at our home.

I take extreme pride in how we were raised not to see differences not between black and white, but between courage and cowardice.

When we stand up to the racial discrimination and segregation when it occurs in any community, at any time — and put our energies and our reputations on the line to bring about change, we show courage.  When we give in to the wishes of a mob, and carry out the mob’s will on weaker elements among us, we are acting as cowards.  We know this intuitively.

In 2008, Americans elected our first African-American President of these United States.  A month after his inauguration, his chief prosecutor, Mr. Eric Holder, was appointed Attorney General.  And he stated we are a nation of cowards.

“Though this nation has proudly thought of itself as an ethnic melting pot, in things racial we have always been and continue to be, in too many ways, essentially a nation of cowards.”  Eric Holder, US Attorney General, February 18, 2009

I am not a coward.  And the day Attorney General Eric Holder made this statement, I was at long last and at age 52 compelled to gather my thoughts about this blunt and sweeping statement, and offer my reflections upon it — reflections upon cowardice and courage in American culture today.

Our politics today are as polarized as I have observed in my lifetime.  Never have the lines been drawn more clearly between gangs in the war to define the role of central government.  One mentor drew the distinction like this: “Government exists to redistribute income,” on the one hand, and “Government exists to guarantee rights,” on the other.  Neither is adequate or complete, but they point to a fundamental difference of perspective.

And this difference sets up what distinguishes courage from cowardice in our culture today.

Few in my social and professional networks disagree about the great challenges facing our nation.  We have just concluded a year of spirited debate on the issue of health care reform.  We have troubling unemployment rates following an economic crisis driven by questionable public-private sector collusion in our financial markets.  We remain under threat of terrorist attack from a radical religious segment committed to our total elimination by whatever means necessary.

At the community level, there is greater divergence of opinion about our most pressing needs.  And that’s as it should be.  States, counties, cities, towns, neighborhoods — they have different priorities.  Detroit’s problems are not West Virginia’s are not Lawrence, Massachusetts’.

What disappoints me these days is how many of us look at those needs, assess their importance to the community, and conclude that it’s up to the government to fix these problems.  More specifically, it is the federal government’s responsibility — it is Barack Obama’s job — to fix these problems.

It takes the courage and leadership of individuals, in families, in neighborhoods, towns, cities, counties and states to fix our problems and to fulfill our moral obligation to leave our world better than we found it.  It seems more and more these days that we expect just the opposite — that a wise federal government will fix our problems for us, and that top-down government programs will clean up our messes.  Is this a profile in courage?

I think not.

Worse, I think the growing reliance on federal government to solve problems we should be addressing in our local communities, counties and commonwealths belies a loss of faith in our character and capabilities as responsible individuals in society.

I find it ironic that everyone I know (or with whom I’ve discussed the hypothetical situation) agrees that their home (or apartment, as the case may be) is their castle, and that it is their responsibility to protect that precinct from any attack or invasion.  Whether it’s a criminal break-in, or a petty theft by a teenager during a birthday party, or the relentless attack of mother nature during a protracted rainstorm — we do all that we can to prevent damage to our homes and families, and spring to action should one occur.

We all agree to the concept of “neighborhood watch.”  I let my neighbors know if I’ve seen any unusual activity around their home, as they do me.  When we had torrential rains this spring, in my neighborhood we pooled our resources (pumps and hose) to get the water out of our houses — until the very small hours of the morning.  That’s what the situation required.

In most communities — whatever their form of government — there is spirited debate about the schools and sports programs; about town budgets and spending limit overrides; about how best to remain fiscally responsible though broader economic conditions are so challenging.

As if by natural law, most adults see concentric rings which extend from their home and family, to their neighborhood, to their community or town — and see personal responsibility linked from one ring to the next.

But somehow, somewhere beyond the ring which wraps around our towns and schools and connects to our States or Commonwealths and beyond to our Federal government, the connection to personal responsibility and values is ruptured.  More and more of the group of adults I know either personally or professionally suddenly abdicate their own commitments and obligations, and yield all authority.

What happened to the personal leadership and courage in family, neighborhood, and community — the commitment to leave the world better than we found it — along the way?

I assert that the moral high ground, from which many believers in the innate goodness of large and growing Government peer down, is built upon contours of cowardice.  That the silent narrative behind the relinquishment of power to state authorities and agents is the admission of clayfootedness and fear.

Why this cynical view of my fellow man (and woman)?

Because I believe it is far easier to vote for a socially liberal representative than it is to work in a community to bring about change and realize justice where it may be threatened.

Because the cumulative effect of that abdication of responsibility, throughout the industrialized world, has been to create societies where more citizens are “in the cart,” (receiving their livelihood by the good will of the State through entitlement programs) than are “pulling the cart” (working and contributing, through taxes, to fund those government handouts).

Because this leads to national economic crisis such as we see in Greece, with the potential domino effect through to Portugal, Ireland, Italy, Spain — perhaps to the entire European Union.

Because I believe that many sleep better at night, though they be white and middle-class, knowing that their politics provides preferences and protections for many groups which they as individuals don’t dedicate one minute of time to protect or guarantee.

Because I believe that many of these folks would be flat out afraid to venture out of their comfortable, homogeneous precincts to brush shoulders with those poor people their elected representatives are doing so much to help.

I am not a coward, and I believe that our most courageous act would be to create a nation built upon the foundation of such strong local communities, filled with such dedicated and courageous leaders, that we would feel shame — not pride — in a large and activist central government.  In my opinion, large and powerful States are judgments that individuals and communities have failed… not that some grandiose activist political agenda has prevailed.

What do you think?

There’s a joke that goes:  what do you call 80,000 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean?  Answer:  a good start.

The same could be said of the firing of all 88 teachers at Central Falls High School in Rhode Island.  The school is at the bottom of the educational

Boo-hoo! We've been canned!

barrel, and the teachers got the axe for refusing to accept the requirements of a federal plan to fix failing schools that required a longer school day.  (What—a longer school day with no additional pay??? Are you kidding???)

So one of the other options provided by the Department of Education was firing the entire staff (teachers, principle, guidance counselors, the whole kit and caboodle), and allowing them to re-apply for their jobs, although no more than half can be re-hired.

The howls and tears and overwrought speeches ensued.  In a great piece of coverage that ran on Fox 25 this morning, one fired teacher identified as Patti Cuttle whimpered:

“I have no folders, I have no supplies, I have no words for word study.”

Excuse me, Patti?  You need someone to give you words for word study?  You can’t find any words on your own?

So as a service to Patti and the rest of the overworked, dedicated and now UNEMPLOYED teachers of Central Falls, I offer the following words:

Dictionary – this is a book where you could find plenty of words if you took a moment look.  In fact there is probably one on your desk right now.  (Oh sorry, it’s not your desk any more.)

Internet – This is a wonderful educational resource – loaded with free word lists and other cool teaching stuff.  You probably have free access at your school.  (Oh sorry, it’s not your school any more…By the way, a lot of people use the Internet to look for new jobs.)

VisualThesaurus – one of the greatest sites ever invented, packed with fantastic teaching aids and yes—word lists.  By grade level even!  It does cost like $2 a month, and I’m sure that’s a huge piece of your teaching salary. (Oh sorry, it’s not your salary any more.)  Here’s a little sample for you:  what do all of the following words have in common:  slow, work-shy, indolent, otiose, slothful, fainéant? They’re all synonyms for LAZY.

I was pleased as pie and frankly surprised that our secretary of education, Arne Duncan, praised the decision. In fact it seems that everyone agrees this was the right thing to do, except for the teacher’s union and their union brethren.

“This is immoral, illegal, unjust, irresponsible, disgraceful and disrespectful,” said George Nee, president of the Rhode Island AFL-CIO.

Dude – great word list!  And it was free!

Tonight I listened to a brief interview with Charlie Baker on The Howie Carr Show (Avi Nelson sitting in as host). This is the second time I’ve heard Baker on radio, and on both occasions I have been impressed with how straightforward, sensible and unapologetic he is in expressing his views. 

Charlie Baker For Governor of MA

He pulled no punches, even sticking by his earlier statements that we need to layoff 5,000 state of MA workers.  Obviously he is going to be dragged over the coals by virtually every media person and pundit (”Heartless!  Horrible! Draconian!”), but as he points out, this is certainly nothing less than all of us in the private sector have endured.  Among the brilliant views he espoused:

• We need to simplify and reduce the government (consolidate gazillion agencies);
• The most important thing for health insurance cost reduction is transparency—the publishing of provider prices and outcomes;
• Reform the state pension system…and he provided concrete ideas for doing so!

Bravo, Charlie!

On the eve of the election, I’m given to memories of my childhood, when my father was running campaigns for the Democratic party where I grew up in South Jersey.  It was an interesting way to grow up, and I’m kind of sad my kids haven’t had a similar experience.  I was often pressed into service to fold and stuff mailers and or whatever odd jobs needed doing (and required little skill) at campaign headquarters.  This was local and county politics mostly, although my father also helped with the campaigns of one congressman.

I remember that my father was constantly on the phone with one politician or another.  They were obsessed with small intrigues…who was talking to whom, who had a bumper sticker on their car or a sign in front of their house, whose speech went on too long at the spaghetti dinner.  It showed me that politicians are just people.  There are really great people in politics and jerks too, but the blanket statements that all politicians are corrupt is just not true.

On election nights we would go to the HQ early in the evening, but then we’d be sent home with a babysitter and my parents would be out for one of the few nights of the year when they stayed out past midnight.  If they were home early, it was usually a bad sign.  If they were coming in at 2 am or later, it was usually with news that the full slate had won.

My father was also active in the ACLU and a local group called Casa PRAC that supported the rights of Puerto Ricans.  (One of my strongest memories is of the meetings of the Puerto Rican taxi cab drivers in our living room…they were being harassed by the local constabulary, and my parents were involved in helping them to get legal representation).  He was, in short, a dyed in the wool Democrat.  But things changed.

My father eventually moved on from doing PR for the Dems to running a small newspaper.  Over time his political allegiance shifted to the Republicans, but not out of any ill will toward his former client.  He simply got tired of the myriad ways that government makes life difficult for small business people.  By the time Reagan was in office my father had swung entirely into the Republican camp.  My mother was fond of saying that he went so far to the right, he was about to go around the corner and bump into himself.

The election going on right now in Massachusetts has stirred up so many feelings and memories for me.   I’m thankful to have had my desire to be active in politics awakened.  I’ll be up late Tuesday one way or another enjoying every moment of it.

Go Scott Brown!

Scott Brown better have mud tires on that truck of his.

We’ve all seen the YouTube video with Coakley aid Meehan pushing the Weekly Standard reporter.   Meehan says he did not shove the reporter, although he has called several time to apologize.  Martha says she did not see the incident, although there are photos of her looking at the guy lying on the ground, up against a fence.

This morning the plot thickened!  Martha says that she thinks the reporter was really one of those darn Brown supporters who have been “stalking” her.

It is said that the definition of Chutzpah is the kid who murders his parents and then asks the jury for leniency because he’s an orphan.  Add this incident as a secondary definition. 

 Her aid, Michael Meehan,  loses his cool and appears to get a little rough with a reporter.  I don’t think he committed a crime or anything, and probably the reporter was being insistent to the point of being obnoxious.  But to turn this into an accusation of stalking really takes the cake.

I think this is Martha playing the woman card again, as she has increasingly had to do in her desperation.  She realizes that ‘stalking’ is an emotional issue for women.  Just like almost all of her new negative ads focus on the idea that Brown is going to deny emergency contraception or turn back the clock on Roe v. Wade.

Pathetic!

Pig Pen would be right at home in Massachusetts.

This morning I turned on the local news, as I usually do, to get a sense of the day’s weather and local happenings.  Immediately I was met with three consecutive Martha Coakley ads, all negative.  Now, in fairness to our thin-lipped friend, some of these were not the official product of the Coakley campaign.  The national liberal interest groups have swooped in to Massachusetts, realizing that Marha’s downfall would create a huge national embarrassment for the Democrats.  So it’s all out war.

It’s interesting to me, as a student of both marketing and politics, that we’re witnessing a race in which the candidate best described as incumbent (she hasn’t held the office but it is clearly a Democratic seat for the taking) is going negative against a challenger with a fraction of the voting base.  Attack ads are usually the weapon of choice for under-funded challengers who need to gain awareness and create doubt against powerful incumbents.  Personally I am not against attack ads, as this is one of the few avenues available to challengers, and history shows that incumbency is THE greatest advantage any candidate can have.

One of the funnier of the ads in the Coakley arsenal repeats over and over, like a religious chant:  Scott Brown REPUBLICAN, Scott Brown REPUBLICAN, Scott Brown REPUBLICAN…clearly this is the most hideous label that could ever be applied to anyone.  The ad slaps a bunch of Republican boogey men up against a photo of an uncomfortable-looking Brown:  Sarah Palin,  Rush Limbaugh in a kind of Heil Hitler pose, Bush/Cheney, of course.

Scott Brown, on the other hand, is running a clever ad that identifies Coakley’s ads as evidence of her corrupt, “business as usual” politics.  He’s speaking into the camera directly, staying positive, and using her ads in a kind of clever jujitsu move.  If this tactic is successful, it will be interesting to see what this does to political campaign strategy across the country.  Of course this is possible because Scott Brown is an appealing person, and projects an air of sincerity. This wouldn’t work if he turned voters off.  I can only assume that the reason we are NOT seeing any more ads with Coakley speaking directly into the camera is that her cold fish, schoolmarm demeanor wasn’t exactly inspiring a tidal wave of support.

The mud is going to fly, but the question is whether it will stick.

Go Scott Brown!