Drapes of Wrath, Name Droppings, Bead Needs

Drapes of Wrath: Attorney General John Ashcroft had had enough. No, not of backlash from his homeland security directives and opinions. But of the backdrop he frequently fronted in the Great Hall of the Department of Justice.

There was something incompatible and offensive, apparently, in Ashcroft keeping America abreast of terrorist threats and countermeasures in front of the female statue that represents the Spirit of Justice. Some, however, seemed to see Jugstice instead.

One large, actually voluptuous, breast is exposed — and often shared cropped photos with Ashcroft’s dour visage. The AG thought the jugstaposition inappropriate, but the photo-op venue too endowed with history to change. So the offending breast has been covered by some blue, $8,000 taxpayer drapes.

War or no war, isn’t it time for Ashcroft to lighten up? After all, Janet Reno had no problem with it.

Name Droppings: Let’s cut right to the chase on the issue of school names. Except for that special American pantheon of heroes and high achievers, we’re much better off going geographical. It avoids needless controversy and helps instill some sense of community in schools too often lacking in identity.

Unlike a rose, a school by any other name wouldn’t be the same. Marcus Garvey or Steve Garvey Jr. High? Harry or Truman Capote Middle School? Stonewall or Jackson Pollock High School? It’s like denying there’s no difference between MLK Boulevard and Buffalo Avenue.

In our heart of hearts we all know that it shouldn’t matter — but it does. We know how, well, shallow it sounds to traffick in names when we all know that what’s most important about schools are its teachers and the quality of instruction. Reality, however, dictates that image and connotation count, along with politics and even raw snob appeal. Would it matter if your diploma and resume read: “Sharpton,” “Schwarzkopf,” “Shabazz” or “Shakespeare” High School?

The fundamental problem is two fold when we name schools after people. For openers, we have many more schools than we have dead American icons. And the disparity only widens. No problem with the Washingtons, Jeffersons, Franklins, Lincolns, Edisons, Wilsons, Carvers and Roosevelts. But all too quickly do we run out of first tier names. How else to explain Buckhorn Elementary?

No offense intended, but it’s like wandering through the Baseball Hall of Fame and noting the plaques of Ruth, Cobb, Gehrig, Young, DiMaggio, Aaron, Mays, Koufax and Yan.

Worse yet, however, are scenarios for naming schools after the living, typically local politicians and prominent members of the business community. Not only are they not likely of icon quality, but the unwritten chapters of their lives can prove dicey for posterity. Joe Kotvas Alternative School would have been awkward. Two years ago Steve LaBrake Vo Tech might have made the cut. Ronda Storms Magnet School could still happen.

Here in Hillsborough, this county is notorious for taking care of its own, as in school board members and school district employees. Dead or alive.

For example, last year Tampa Palms’ parents voiced enough opposition to the Hillsborough County School Board that it changed the new J. Crockett Farnell High School to Freedom High. Seems the opposing parents took umbrage at having their kids’ school named after the late school superintendent who was forced to resign in the 1960s after being convicted of stealing school district property.

Before long, Farnell’s backers had re-petitioned the board to name a middle school in Nine Eagles after him. The district agreed after noting that Farnell’s conviction was eventually overturned on appeal. The name stayed — and standards prevailed.

Bead Needs: Marketing kudos to South Tampa dentist Nancy C. Aft. Leading up to Gasparilla, she has been running a newspaper ad with the practical reminder: “It’s your SMILE that will get you the beads!!!”

Well, it probably improves your chances. But as we all know all too well, a smile will get you just so far when beads, especially the primo, non-generic variety, hang in the balance.

Will we next see an enterprising plastic surgeon take a similar approach — pitching women to augment their chances of landing killer beads?

Bradshaw’s Last Laugh, O’Donnell Outing

Last Laugh: What’s with Terry Bradshaw always playing the bumpkin foil to guys like Doug Flutie and Mike Piazza in those “10-10-220” Telecom USA commercials? Granted, it’s Gomer Pyle convincing, but isn’t he marketable enough without the Hee-Haw hick persona?

You would think that Bradshaw, of all people, would not want to go the Forest Gumption route in his commercial endorsements.

That’s because as a Hall of Fame quarterback for the Pittsburgh Steelers, he had to overcome a media perception that he was, well, stupid. It had everything to do with his down-home ways and Louisiana drawl — and playing in Cajun-challenged Pittsburgh. By all accounts, he was hurt by the drumbeat of criticism that he was too dumb to master quarterback, which has never been confused with, say, quantum physics.

Eventually fans and the media figured out that not only was Bradshaw not dumb, but he was football smart, talented, engaging and business savvy.

How ironic, then, that a guy who fought so hard to overcome the demeaning image of Southerners as dumber then fence posts, couldn’t supplement his considerable Fox Sports income in a way that doesn’t revisit that stereotype.

Unless, of course, Bradshaw figures the ultimate irony is to take that dimwit image he was unfairly saddled with — and ride it all the way to the bank.

O’Donnell Outing: Apparently Rosie O’Donnell outs herself in her upcoming memoir, “Find Me.” Thanks for sharing.

It’s, Like, The Will of God, You Know

Lake Superior State University recently issued its annual list of words and phrases that should, in its opinion, be summarily banished from popular usage. “Mis-use, over-use and general uselessness” are the rationales. Among the language pariahs are “9-11” shorthand for the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, as well as “friendly fire,” “surgical strike,” “bring the evildoers to justice,” “in the wake of,” “synergy” and “faith-based.”

In the wake of that noble effort, let’s call in surgical strikes against a few other words and phrases that flat-out need sacking — and retrofitting others to a sensible context.

“Awesome.” Remember when it meant wonder inspired by something sublime or maybe majestic? No longer. Mundane rules. As in “Your (sweatpants, slip covers, Barry Manilow CDs) are ‘awesome.'”

“Man.” As in “Hey, (I choose not to use, acknowledge or learn your name) ‘man,’ how’s your (wife, portfolio, golf game)?'”

“Football.” At all costs, including linguistic numbness, avoid confusing with any other sport. As in “Anytime these two outstanding ‘football’ teams get together, you’re going to see a well played, tough ‘football’ game because both ‘football’ teams have superb head ‘football’ coaches and talented ‘football’ players who know what to do with the ‘football’ and what to do when the other ‘football’ team has the ‘football.'”

“Blue Collar.” As in “He (white athlete) is one of those ‘blue collar’ players. He won’t beat you with his athleticism, but he’s like a coach on the field. He gets the most out of his (melanin-challenged) ability.”

“Warrior.” As in “He makes millions of dollars to play a game, and yet even when his team is hopelessly behind, he still tries. What a ‘warrior.'”

“It’s not about Islam.” As in “This is a war against terrorism. ‘It’s not about Islam,’ but it is, disturbingly enough, about those who find it so easy to pervert Islam because the non-Islamic world is apparently nothing less than a nest of death-deserving infidels.”

“Profiling.” As in “I don’t care that it may be a function of common sense, national security and statistical relevance. Racial or ethnic ‘profiling’ is always wrong.”

“Reality TV.” As in “Even though everyone is well aware they are being taped, this really is ‘reality TV.'”

“Disenfranchisement.” As in “Too many people have died for the right to cast an uninformed vote, possibly more than once, for ‘disenfranchisement’ to be tolerated today.”

“The will of God.” As in even God, presumably, would find this faith-based phrase presumptuous.

“The Man Upstairs.” As in “I want to thank ‘The Man Upstairs’ for helping us win this game.” Blasphemously presumes skewed earthly priorities for the Deity.

“Like, you know.” As in “What’s, ‘like,’ not to like, ‘you know?'” OK, it’s a gimme, but we’ve been far too tolerant of this patois parasite. The palaver police continue to look the other way.

“Whatever.” Shibboleth for edgy, non-commitment. As in

Q: “Son, your mother and I would like you to be on time for Christmas dinner; at least acknowledge your grandparents; refrain from commentary that only references that which “sucks;” defer any more piercings until after the holidays; and save that rapper ensemble for non-family occasions.”

A: “Whatever.”

“Bottom Line.” As in “‘Bottom line,’ give it back to the CPAs, even Arthur Andersen.”

“You guys.” As in “Good evening; my name is Paul; I’ll be your server; and welcome to Jean Claude’s, home of romantic, gourmet dining. So, what can I start ‘you guys’ off with?”

“Rap artist.” Bottom line, this, like, gives oxymoron a bad name, you know.

“Star.” Nothing beyond the celestial. Entertainment celebrities are not “stars,” although many do inhabit their own universe.

“Role model.” Athletes don’t count. Some, in fact, can’t.

“Ethnocentric.” Relativist, cultural catchall that doesn’t leave wiggle room for that which is absolutely wrong — say, genital mutilation or evil acts in the name of religion.

“Been there, done that.” Wherever you’ve been, whatever you’ve done. No one cares. Even if you got the T-shirt.

“Dis.” Show some respect for the language. It’s not a word; but do keep it as a syllable.

“Duhhh.” Ditto.

“HELL-oooooo.” Good byyyye to trite, melodramatically whiny, stressed-syllable tampering.

“PUHH-lease.” See above. Please.

“No problem.” Only problematic as a response to “thank you.” Proper response is “you’re welcome.” Thank you.

“Close proximity, “totally destroyed,” “general consensus.” Bring these evildoers of redundancy to justice.

“Near miss.” That would be a Mrs.; otherwise, it’s a collision.

“Cancelled.” Call off this spelling; in fact, consider it “canceled.”

“Remains to be seen.” Doesn’t it always?

“Jerry Springer, Rosie O’Donnell, Al Sharpton, Alan Dershowitz, Maury Povich, the Glazers, Geraldo Rivera, Jesse Jackson, Dr. Ruth Westheimer, Bill O’Reilly, Sterling Sharpe, Howard Stern, Mike Tyson.” Because it’s my list.

Pandering 101

Harvard President Lawrence H. Summers is seemingly in a bind. It’s over the issue of how to respond to Cornel West, the high-profile, black professor and prominent member of Harvard’s Afro-American Studies Department.

West took umbrage at Summers’ questions about whether he had missed classes to campaign for Bill Bradley in the 2000 presidential campaign. In addition, Summers apparently had misgivings about the role, if any, of scholarship in West’s rappy recording of a CD of African American music. Moreover, Summers, a treasury secretary in the Clinton Administration, reportedly has not yet spoken out forcefully enough in favor of affirmative action and diversity.

Summers, in effect, has said that just because Harvard’s Afro-American Studies Department is a celebrated one, its top celebrity-scholar-author isn’t immune from scrutiny. It speaks volumes that this even has to be spoken.

There was an attempt to patch up the resultant “terrible misunderstanding,” according to an aide to Summers. To which West responded: “As much as I forgive, I will not forget.”

Forgive what? A president for doing something other than care-taking Harvard’s image?

Forget what? Being held accountable?

As a result of the carpet calling, West may leave Harvard and head to Princeton. West said his decision would depend, in part, on whether his colleagues in the Afro-American Studies Department were staying at Harvard.

A spokesman for Harvard now says, “Dr. Summers has made it clear that collectively and individually he holds the Afro-American Studies Department in high regard.”

C’mon, President Summers. Speak for yourself — and in so-doing speak for all those who know that university campuses, especially elite ones, are bastions of political correctness run amok.

Try saying something like this: “We wish Dr. West good luck at Princeton. We also wish all the best to those colleagues of his in the Afro-American Studies Department who are also certain to leave. That’s because we are closing the department.

“Legitimate courses in Afro-American studies will continue to be offered here at Harvard; indeed, they are appropriate on any American campus that gives more than lip service to meaningful diversity. But not a whole department. Do we really want to turn out graduates with a bachelor’s in blackness? The same principle, I should add, also applies to women’s studies and other ethnic or racial studies. Individual, academically authentic courses, yes; separatist, academic apartheid, no.

“We want legitimate, world-class, academic departments — buttressed by rigorous standards — not partisan, polemicized, faux scholarship, group-think, self-esteem citadels that serve only to buff a university’s bona fides as champions of ‘diversity.’

“Harvard will manage well without Dr. West and his colleagues, thank you. As for me, of course this will cost me my presidency, but it’s worth it.

“For now, however, I can live with myself knowing I’ve used the prestigious and influential forum that is the Harvard presidency to say what no one else in academia will. If the emperor has no clothes, I’m not pretending he’s dressed to the nines.”

Nice Guy Is Finished, Alas

There was no way the firing of Tony Dungy wasn’t going to be difficult and sad. Dungy’s a helluva nice guy and the winningest coach in Tampa Bay Buccaneer history.

Those doing the firing are not nearly that nice. And what they’ve won is the right to keep what they’ve inherited. The Glazers once again lived down to their PR-challenged reputations. No one this side of John Walker can turn a media briefing into an awkward interrogation the way the Glazer brothers, Classless and Duplicitous, can. Candor, empathy and public relations savvy continue to elude them like so many Brad Johnson-to-Reidel Anthony TD passes.

It would have been an upset on the order of Luxembourg knocking off Nazi Germany, but couldn’t the Glazers have made a behavioral exception for Dungy? Instead of a terse, written statement at a media-squeezing late hour, followed by a bumbling, disingenuous, next-day press conference, couldn’t they have stood up and just said:

“Thank you all for being here. After much anguish and soul-searching, we have decided not to bring back head coach Tony Dungy for the fifth and final year of his contract. We wish Tony and his family nothing but the best in the future.

“Before explaining why we’re taking this action, this much must be said first. “We as a franchise owe a large debt of gratitude to Tony Dungy. More than anyone else, he was responsible for turning the Bucs around. For making losers into winners. That will never change.

“Moreover, he did it in a way that always exuded class. Would that we all comported ourselves with such dignity. So, we thank him for what he did and how he did it.

“As responsible owners, however, we would be remiss if we didn’t keep raising the bar. It is the nature of competitive sports; it is the nature of the competitive-sports business. Our fans, from what we heard — and we do listen — expected nothing less than continued improvement. That means a championship — not merely settling for no longer being bad. That’s not a standard; that’s a governor on progress. We went, as everyone knows, from bad to good — and then stayed there — and began regressing.

“The prospects for next year, frankly, did not appear any different. Defensively, we’ve been among the best; offensively, among the worst. That glaring shortcoming didn’t change from the 11-6 NFC championship loss to the Rams two years ago and, from our vantage point, wasn’t going to. If we didn’t act now, it would have meant we were settling. We care too much to settle.

“Our fans are owed that much. This community, which has been so supportive of this franchise, is owed that much.

“We obviously wish this day had never dawned. But dawn it did, and we’re not backing off our first obligation. It is not, however tempting, to Coach Dungy, who did, we all certainly acknowledge, a good job. It is to our loyal fans who expected a better job. And so did we. We are not just owners here; we’re also stewards of this franchise.

“Now we look to the future. Sure, we have a short list of possible candidates, and, of course, we didn’t just come up with it. And, of course, Bill Parcells is on it. He’d have to be. In this business — in any business — you always have to think contingencies and ways to improve.

“But let us stress that, however it looked to you, the media, we went as far as we could, maybe farther than we should, to give Tony a fair shake. To prove to us and all the fans that we were headed in a direction that was more than the maintenance of the status quo. Ultimately, we didn’t see it. Realistically, I doubt if many others did either, including all of you here right now.

“We’ll let you know when we have some news, but please don’t expect us to comment on the steady stream of rumors du jour. Believe me, the business of getting better can’t wait.

“Thank you for being here — and we’ll see you soon.”

Mayor’s Noteworthy Address

Note to all in attendance at the recent Mayor’s Beautification Program’s 13th Annual Mayor’s Breakfast: Dick Greco will be a tough act to follow to any podium. Greco’s keynote address, sans notes, was another rhetorical tour de force.

While working in some speech staples, such as CIT benefits, the media’s skewed sense of newsworthiness and the dangers inherent in police work, Greco was nostalgic, funny, provocative, populist and inspirational. This, his next-to-last address to those involved in helping to beautify public areas, parks and streetscapes, was a reminder of how well he still holds an audience.

It was also a reminder that any would-be successor, several of whom were in attendance, should continue to take good notes.

Of Soccer, Sami and Sharpton

No soccer succor: Before there was professional football, hockey or baseball here in the Tampa Bay market, there was soccer. Highly successful too in the early days of the North American Soccer League.

Now it is no more. The demise of the Tampa Bay Mutiny was sad — but inevitable. “No local ownership, no Major League Soccer franchise” is what it came down to in MLSpeak.

But why would local investors have signed on — only to lose money? That’s what annually loomed in an ill-suited facility, a stadium lease that only benefited the Bucs and crowds that stayed away in droves.

The Raymond James Stadium lease gave the Bucs the first $2 million of concession and parking revenues from non-Buc events, a crippling arrangement for the struggling Mutiny. The Bucs, in a scenario only a Glazer could fathom, were unwilling to renegotiate, apparently figuring no Mutiny-related income at all was better than less.

A Mutiny-less Tampa is particularly unfortunate for all those kids and coaches who will now do without MSL clinics and financial support. But that cuts both ways. Obviously, all those coaches, kids and attendant families could have expressed their gratitude by attending more Mutiny games. No sport has greater youth participation than soccer, but it never translated into support at the professional level.

And whatever happened to Oscar Fabiani?

Sami Al-Arrant: No, there’s no campus witchhunt for Muslims, even Al-Arrogant ones, at the University of South Florida. Nor is it open season on free speech and academic freedom. For all those pointy-heads at USF who will defend tenure under any guise, know this: The firing of Professor Sami Al-Arian has, indeed, set a precedent. And it’s this: Those who would hire, hang out with and/or fund-raise for terrorists can expect to be fired.

Sharpton Sighting: USF has landed the Rev. Al Sharpton as featured speaker for the university’s MLK celebration. How incongruous that the celebration of King’s life should warrant an appearance by one of America’s pre-eminent, race-baiting opportunists.

He’s dropped a lot of weight from his Vieques diet and dresses more conservatively, but he’s still the same Al Sharpton who remains unrepentant over the Tawana Brawley travesty.

Visiting a college campus and wrapping himself in the cloak of a legitimate civil rights icon is just an agenda warm-up for Sharpton these days. He fully expects to be a major player in the 2004 Democratic presidential primaries. That means preparing for a plank on reparations for slavery in the Democratic Party’s platform. Among those qualifying for reparations, presumably, is Tawana Brawley.

From Afghan “Primary” to the Atoms Family

Primary predate: With so many senators doing a drive-by lay-of-the-landing in Afghanistan, it’s beginning to look like the first primary of the 2004 presidential race. So where’s Al Gore? Would he have to shave for a better fit with post-Taliban fashion?

Plane speaking: If an airline pilot says he’s uncomfortable with paperwork and the deportment of a man of Middle Eastern descent who’s armed and says he’s with the Secret Service, and you’re about to board that American Airlines’ plane, who do you side with? Thought so.

Born (Suit) Free: The U.S. continues to reign, of course, as the world’s most litigious nation. No one is close. But not even in the U.S. has a court ruled that a person has a right not to be born — and a concomitant right to sue for being brought into this world.

But that’s what a French court ruled in the case of a boy who was born deaf, nearly blind and retarded. His mother said she would have aborted him had doctors correctly diagnosed her German measles when she was pregnant.

But tragedy and heartache do not excuse flawed law and perilous precedent. The French National Assembly has approved a bill overturning that decision. States the bill: “No one can sue for damages for the sole fact of their birth.”

Imagine having to actually codify that concept. Only — to date — in France.

Driven to extremes: How ironic — and unsettling — is it that Charles Bishop, the 15 year old who flew a plane into a Tampa skyscraper, had to get his grandmother to drive him to his flying lesson? And she had done so before, when he was 14.

Bishop was too young to be at the wheel of a car but old enough to be at the controls of a plane. Anyone want to revisit this logic?

Drawing conclusions: Please, no more Defense Department-doctored photos of a westernized Osama bin Laden as he might look on the lam. Is the generic geek look some sort of dead give-away? It makes it too easy for those too easily disposed to dismiss legitimate evidence, such as videos and hard drive information, as the devious work of American infidels. Save it for Comedy Central and Jay Leno’s “Where’s bin Laden been hidin’.”

Flag flap: Not everything that is run up a flagpole is salute-able. Case in point: the flap over the 19-foot bronze sculpture that ostensibly replicates the famous photo of the three New York firefighters raising the flag at the World Trade Center.

A major liberty was taken, it turns out, in moving between mediums, and it has nothing to do with artistic license. It has, however, everything to do with assuring and enshrining political correctness. Not even the trauma, tragedy and sanctity of Sept. 11 is immune from the PC police, because the photo depicts three white firefighters — members of a fire department that is 93 per cent white. It’s a sensitive issue. As a result, two of those firefighters have now morphed into a black and a Hispanic.

If the controversial sculpture hadn’t been based on an actual, historic photo, then no harm, no foul, no problem. In fact, had that been the case, why not show a black, a white and a Hispanic firefighter? It would symbolically honor all those who made the supreme sacrifice.

But there’s this famous photo of three white firefighters. It was these three, actual, New York firefighters who historically hoisted that flag. Not three demographically acceptable figures. What those firefighters did was symbolic; who they were wasn’t.

Atoms Family values: Is this a definition of obscene or what? India, which can’t quite feed itself and leads the world in the number of people who live on traffic islands, has a defense budget of $15.6 billion. Pakistan, smaller but no better off, prioritizes defense to the tune of $2.6 billion annually.

Still Missing the Mark(s)

The NCAA is threatening to penalize member schools for academic deficiencies. Among the proposals: taking away scholarships and withholding eligibility for post-season play. It’s all aimed at improving graduation rates — especially among football and basketball players, especially among blacks.

The proposal is well intentioned, of course, because big time intercollegiate athletics is rife with hypocritical, sham programs where players major in sports eligibility. The devil, however, is in the details, where the calculation of graduation rates is less than precise. For example, how best to factor in transfers and early pro league departures?

Here’s a suggestion. Approach it from the other end. Make athletes meet the same incoming criteria as the student body at large, where high school GPAs and SATs matter more than 40-yd time, bench-press reps, vertical leap, touchdown passes and points-per-game average. Let’s ask “Who’s got grades?” — not “Who’s got game?”

Need remedial help? That’s what high schools and community colleges are for. Need to prep for the NBA and NFL? Try hire ed and go semi-pro — and at least be honest about it.

Some Sovereign Sense

It’s been a long time coming, but out of the atrocity of Sept. 11 has come a reality check of America’s immigration policy. In effect, we need a meaningful one.

As a nation of immigrants, we’ve been reluctant to look beyond Statue of Liberty rhetoric that never envisioned 10 million illegal immigrants in a nation at war with Islamic terrorists. Whether “huddled masses” or “muddled asses,” a “c’mon over” sentiment has been the American way.

By contrast, there’s nothing ennobling about “border security,” but it comes with the sovereign territory. The very words “border security” have all the warmth and fuzziness of a “Bad Dog, Keep Out” sign. It’s just that without it, a lot of “yearnings” will go unrealized and undermined.

The experiences of Canada, Australia and New Zealand, all “nations of immigrants,” should be illustrative. They have no qualms about saying, in effect, “It’s our country, and we get to choose who’s invited to stay.”

They have quotas as the U.S. does, but they have criteria that make much more sense. Economic and security issues matter more than family connections. For example, age, education level, prioritized skills and English proficiency are critical factors. Family ties are relevant, of course, but they aren’t in themselves determinative.

Patrick Buchanan raised this issue a few years back, but unfortunately his ham-handed, politically incorrect phrasing overwhelmed his argument. “Who would better assimilate into Alexandria, Va.?” he asked. “A hundred thousand Brits or 100,000 Zulus?”

But then, that requires agreement at some point that assimilation — even at the expense of some diversity and charges of racism — is desirable as part of a national immigration policy.