North Korea Can Be Talked To

Let’s put North Korea into context. It’s an economic basket case with a fruitcake dictator and some plutonium and a few nukes. Kim Jong Il’s nuclear arsenal is classic leverage, which actually does make sense. Leverage for food and fuel and leverage against regime change. It’s what can happen to a charter member of the “axis of evil.”

But here’s the good news. Religion is not part of the equation. North Koreans don’t do suicide bombings or videotaped beheadings. They don’t see a side order of virgins as a suitable enough reward for incinerating and impaling the innocent.

They may be disingenuous or inscrutably weird. But they can, ultimately, be talked to. They have a return address and, for all their plutonium-enrichment work, are militarily vulnerable.

While talk in this case isn’t cheap, it remains pricier than necessary. We still need to establish diplomatic relations with Pyongyang.

Black Union Rhetoric

The State of the Black Union was held recently at Hampton University in Virginia. The annual gathering charts how far blacks have come and assesses obstacles that still undermine progress. The highlight was a panel discussion featuring the Rev. Al Sharpton, former Virginia Gov. L. Douglas Wilder and Rep. Keith Ellison of Minnesota, the first Muslim elected to Congress.

Question: Were Bill Cosby, Juan Williams, Thomas Sowell, J.C. Watts, Colin Powell, Clarence Thomas, Shelby Steele and Joe Brown all busy? Or just too candid?

Largo Discredited

Over the years, the city of Largo has had image issues. “Provincial” comes to mind. A disproportionate number of hicks is a less benign labeling. Now add “intolerant” to the short list of pejorative stereotypes.

Largo commissioners voted to fire City Manager Steve Stanton, 48, last week in the aftermath of his revelation that he will be undergoing a sex-change operation.

In the end, it didn’t matter that “Steve” Stanton, for all of his personal conflict and agony, had been a good enough city manager to keep for 14 years and had served well enough to warrant a 9 per cent pay hike (to $140,000) just last fall. What mattered was the transgendered “Susan” Stanton and how fundamentally icky that made a majority of commissioners and a lot of residents feel.

But the transcendent issue is this: When performance is not a factor in a firing, it’s cause for real concern. In fact, it’s an outrage worth having a come-to-Jesus meeting over.

Which brings us to the final point.

The rhetorical pitch-fork crowd was typified by this comment from Ron Sanders, pastor of the Lighthouse Baptist Church of Largo: “

Hoops Parity?

To anyone who has watched women’s basketball over the years, it’s apparent how much better the college game has become. The players are notably and noticeably more skilled. And it’s not just at Tennessee and Connecticut. It’s across the board, including the University of South Florida, which has a very competitive Big East program.

It’s also obvious how much the women have been emulating their male counterparts. Even the occasional dunk. Alas, there are also more tattoos and more “trash talk.”

Then there was this. I caught part of the Duke-North Carolina game last week. They’re both powerhouses. At a moment of celebration, several exuberant UNC players paired off — just like the guys.

But flying chest bumps?

Dingfelder Weathering Perfect Political Storm

No one, seemingly, saw it coming. A serious challenger, that is.

Certainly not City Councilman John Dingfelder. And certainly not a race with intimations and accusations of sign sleuths, push polls and a “hatchet job.”

The District 4 incumbent has, quite arguably, been a sensible enough, if sometimes quirky, successor to Linda Saul-Sena, the patron saint of all things aesthetic, in an area known for affluent neighborhoods, a commitment to historic preservation and a fear of scale-skewed development. A mediator by training, Dingfelder has seemed well suited for the formidable task of balancing the vested interests of the private sector with government’s charge to manage growth intelligently. He’s known as a neighborhood guy.

The Tampa native is a partner in the Scarritt Dingfelder Law Group, but knows a side of life where white collars aren’t part of the dress code. His career incarnations have included stints as an assistant public defender, algebra teacher at Robinson High School and science teacher at Booker T. Washington Middle Magnet. He’s also done volunteer work for Habitat for Humanity that didn’t include photo ops. He’s handy enough to have built his own backyard deck.

“I think it put me closer to the average citizen,” says Dingfelder of the public school experience. “You’re teaching everybody’s kid, including the military’s at Robinson. The public defender’s office? It gets you grounded in a hurry. You see it all.”

Saul-Sena has seen enough to be impressed in Dingfelder’s four years on city council.

“John’s very smart, he really listens and he’s very good at finding creative solutions,” assesses Saul-Sena, who is running unopposed (citywide) from District 3. “He really pays attention to the people and the issues in his area. He not only attends civic functions, but he also creates public forums. He has the guts to initiate that.”

Indeed, Dingfelder founded South Tampa’s Neighborhood Empowerment, an issues-driven group that holds quarterly sit-downs with senior city officials.

By reputation, Dingfelder also has the gumption to go with his gut – even if it isn’t popular. He took heat when he took on the police union, voted for a stormwater fee and supported the expansion of a Tampa General Hospital garage over the protestations of Davis Islands residents – and old friends.

“TGH is the regional medical center,” explains Dingfelder. “And like it or not, it’s on Davis Islands. We have to support it. We have to look beyond the parochial. I always vote my conscience.”

From the perspective of former Mayor Dick Greco, Dingfelder is the member paradigm for a body often asked to play city council Solomon to competing, often well-organized, well-heeled interests.

“He will go overboard sometimes to get input and consensus on an item,” points out Greco. “He’s meticulous and asks a lot of questions. He’s been a mediator; it’s part of his makeup. And that’s an important trait, especially in a position where you have to weigh the arguments, say, of developers and neighborhoods.”

To Dingfelder, it’s an extension of a personal philosophy. “As a society, we don’t have to slay each other in court,” he says. “Conflict resolution is healthy for the soul.”

Dingfelder is on record for “leading the (mini tax-revolt) charge,” much to the peeved disappointment of Mayor Pam Iorio, for millage reduction last year. He also findsmerit in more millage rollbacks — as long as assessments keep ascending. He’s earned a reputation for being honest and principled, even if gaffe prone. That’s a combination that, on balance, should get you re-elected. Maybe easily.

Perfect storm candidate

Unless a perfect political storm hits. In this case, the one personified by Julie Brown. The apotheosis of “uh-oh.”

It wasn’t that long ago (2004-06) that Brown, 31, was an assistant city attorney who occasionally conducted business in front of city council. The closest Dingfelder, 50, and Brown came to a contretemps was when Dingfelder, who is known as a methodical inquisitor, called Brown on her use of “we” — as in representing her city hall client. Dingfelder reminded Brown that city council was also a client. It made for a little rhetorical head-butting — and a better-than-average CTTV moment.

Brown was a good friend of Dingfelder’s law partner, Tom Scarritt, and there were periodic opportunities for Dingfelder-Brown chitchat. They were invariably amiable, and any career talk, recalls Dingfelder, dealt with Brown’s interest in the FBI, not public office.

“Sure, I was surprised,” says Dingfelder. “She never mentioned politics.” Up-and-coming was now out-and-running.

Brown looks like the response to a Republican Central Casting call. A fiscally conservative blonde who is as articulate as she is attractive. An eclectic resume ranging from the arts to real estate. That Rockwellian portrait with requisite husband, infant and pet. A family pedigree, even if it’s her in-laws’, that is steeped in Tampa aristocracy. A pragmatic, if not prescient, educational parlay that combined a law diploma with an undergraduate degree in public relations.

Part of Dingfelder’s mantra is that he “asks the tough questions.” Brown, who’s hardly sound-bite challenged, replies that she will “give the tough answers.” Especially on matters of “smart growth” and budget scrutiny.

Is she Dingfelder’s worst re-election nightmare? “I often hear that,” Brown says.

Brown signs sprouted around the tonier parts of South Tampa like campaign kudzu. She lined up endorsements from the firefighters’ and police unions as well as Republican state representative Trey Traviesa, the Greater Tampa Association of Realtors and the Tampa Bay Builders Association. (Her husband’s company is a member.) Full-page ads dotted local dailies.

Her inner circle featured Republican political consultants April Schiff and Ann Voss and homeowner association activist Gene Wells. Obviously, someone noticed that — non-partisan election notwithstanding — there’s plenty of registered red in South Tampa. And lots of green.

Money matters

Brown’s coffers, abetted by builders and the expansive, extended Kuhn Volkswagen family, overflowed early. In fact, $20,000 of it was collected from car dealer Jason Kuhn’s relatives and associates, some of whom reportedly live in the voting district. Most gave the legal maximum of $500. The Florida Department of Law Enforcement has been reviewing the contributions for possible campaign-finance sleight of hand.

Brown hit six figures by the end of January. Dingfelder, who raised $40,000 back in 2003 against the formidable likes of Clay Phillips and the aforementioned Wells, was forced to match the effort and up the ante.

“As long as I’m the incumbent, I have to keep up,” explains Dingfelder. “The appearance it gives to the press and pundits is that somehow you’re vulnerable and weak. It’s unfortunate. It’s a flaw in the system.

“I was in favor of calling a cease fire a couple of weeks ago,” adds Dingfelder. “By then it was at $80,000. Beyond that, it was obscene.”

The unexpected and ever-ratcheting pressure to fund-raise – as well as slovenly e-mail account oversight – led to an embarrassing Dingfelder campaign blunder. A constituent reply on an ordinance change was followed up by a request for money. Ouch. There’s never a convenient time for damage control – especially in a truncated, two-month race.

To be sure, Dingfelder doesn’t have a reputation as Kid Pro Quo, and it wasn’t exactly Yacht BasinGate, but sloppy and stupid is an unholy alliance. Dingfelder acknowledged as much and apologized.

“I didn’t see that as an indication that he was unethical,” says Scott Paine, a former city councilman who teaches government and ethics at the University of Tampa. “It was a gaffe. These kinds of things get traction when a person doesn’t acknowledge the mistake – and do it quickly – and there’s some latent tendency to believe the worst. I don’t think that’s the case here.”

The Dingfelder campaign weathered any ethical
insinuations because most folks know the difference between dumb and devious. The race has finally slogged into its homestretch phase.

Key endorsements

The off-year turnout won’t be anything to make a democracy proud, but low numbers generally favor incumbents. District 4 voters, however, do turn out in relatively larger numbers than elsewhere in the city. There’s a core of constituents for whom the recent endorsements of Dingfelder by the Tampa Tribune, the St. Petersburg Times (which actually “recommends”) and even the tri-lingual weekly La Gaceta will matter. Possibly a difference-maker in a tight race too dominated by fund-raising and campaign carping.

Guess here is that Dingfelder, with his reputation as a staunch neighborhood advocate in a district with a wary eye for developers, keeps his cool the rest of the way and ultimately keeps his seat on city council. Close but no shoot-out. Incumbency remains a trump card so long as a track record tops campaign promises and wish-list bullet points.

Regardless, Julie Brown, vice president and legal counsel for The Talon Group, is obviously a player destined for public office.

We’ll give the next-to-last word to former Mayor Greco, who never lost a race around here. He thinks it will be “very close” but won’t venture a prediction. He does offer this:

“John Dingfelder is the kind of guy who, if he thinks you’re wrong will tell you,” says Greco. “And he’s told me. It’s not personal. It’s honest. And he does what he thinks is right.”

We’ll wax idealistic and give the last word to Abraham Lincoln:

“With public trust everything is possible, and without it, nothing is possible.”

America’s Celebrity-Obsessed Cultural Meltdown

To update an old “Saturday Night Live” Francisco Franco parody: “Anna Nicole Smith Still Dead.” Alas, the storyline is far from interred. There’s cause-of-death intrigue, ongoing estate battles and garden-variety sleaze at every turn. And all those rivulets of emotion on Facebook, the fan-produced tributes on YouTube, the candlelight- vigil plans for New York’s Union Square.

Arguably, Mother Teresa or Madame Curie wouldn’t have prompted such outpourings.

Of course, ANS is merely the most recent Exhibit A for an American pop culture and media in grave danger of devolving into total celebrity-obsession meltdown. We no longer ignore, dismiss or even excuse society’s dysfunctionals; we celebrate them. We no longer disapprove of aberrant behavior; we identify vicariously with it if it’s high-profile enough.

Would that this were merely grist for the tabloid mills. But it’s symptomatic of mainstream media too. Fame is a commodity, and people are famous for being famous. If Paris Hilton forgets — or remembers — her underwear, it’s news.

The true touchstone of any phenomenon, however, is to see how it’s playing on campuses. Not among students, but faculty. This is how legitimacy is imparted. There’s always a subset of the elbow-patch crowd that will study anything that can be rewarded with a doctorate.

“If I had to say what was Anna Nicole Smith’s legacy to the culture, I’d call her a conceptual artist,” said Robert Thompson, director of the Center for the Study of Popular Television at Syracuse University.

“It was almost like she was this explorer who went out to the edges of celebrity and by watching what she was able to achieve, we know more about the nature of celebrity.”

Whatever.

Two points:

1) This can’t be fair to real “conceptual artists,” whatever they are.

2) The “Center for the Study of Popular Television.” There is such a place?

Tony Dungy’s Pulpit

Step down on top, Tony.

Given the usual givens – parity and luck – it’s not likely that the Indianapolis Colts will repeat as Super Bowl champions. So, Tony, max out on your influence now.

Come back to Tampa – as you plan to some day anyhow – and work with your causes, the ones that will always be more important than football, including All Pro Dad.

But if you stay on with the Colts, which seems likely, be wary of a double-edged sword. A locker room is not a sectarian pulpit.

Continue to preach being a good person, of course. And putting fame and special physical skills into perspective. There are precious few voices of dignity and wisdom like yours. And while you’re at it, you might use that unique forum to speak out against an insidious hip hop culture that is a moral yoke on the black community. You will never have more credibility and impact than you do right now.

But enough of the “God’s plan” rhetoric when it comes to the games professionals play and the ebb and flow of playoff success. Frankly, it’s unworthy of a Deity with, hopefully, other priorities.

The K-K-K-K-K-King

It was one of those easily buried, three-graph obit stories two weekends ago. Perhaps you saw it: “‘The King’ of Softball dies at 81.”

“The King” was Eddie Feigner a legendary pitcher who barnstormed the country for some 50 years with his four-man team, “The King and His Court,” taking on all comers. With his 104-mph fastball, pinpoint control, a few trick pitches, and gimmicks that included a blindfold, he didn’t need more than a catcher, first baseman and roving fielder. The Walla Walla, Wash., native threw 930 no hitters and 238 perfect games and totaled more than 141,000 strikeouts. He was also a helluva hitter – and always used a short, billy club-like bat.

In a nationally televised exhibition against major leaguers in 1964, he struck out – in order – Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Maury Wills, Harmon Killebrew, Roberto Clemente and Brooks Robinson.

And in 1970 he struck out me.

As a young teacher — and baseball coach — in Bristol Township, Pa., I was asked to help fill out a squad that was going to play “The King and His Court” at Woodrow Wilson High School of Levittown, just outside of Philadelphia. I had heard of “The King,” but not enough to be intimidated. My first miscalculation.

It was a night game. The crowd, including a number of my students, was standing-room only and probably 25-deep in the outfield. I hit eighth, and the seven guys in front of me, including former minor leaguers, ex-college players and a couple of current high school hot shots, all struck out. One while Feigner was blindfolded. Another when Feigner pitched from – second base. Contact of any kind, including foul tips, was applauded. A serious foul ball warranted a cheer. The animated home plate ump seemed to be playing along and appeared to enjoy punching out hitter after hitter to the delight of the pumped-up crowd.

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was that traumatic.

Feigner doffed his cap and showed a crew cut that would have done Roger Maris proud. He smiled and held up the ball as if to say “This is as good a look at you’re going to get.”

I decided not to swing at the first pitch – no matter where it was – and hoped it was a ball. Then I would be better able to gauge the speed, and fans would think I had exercised a good batter’s “eye.”

Windmill windup. Release. Zzzzzz. THUMP. “STEE-rike one.” I never saw it. It was a blur. He didn’t let up on the number 8 hitter. Thanks for the respect.

New strategy. Don’t just stand there; swing.

Windmill windup. Release. Zzzz–Begin swing–zz. THUMP. “STEE-rike two.” I swear I had barely begun my swing when the catcher was tossing it back to Feigner. Fans laughed.

Amended strategy. Begin to swing AS he was releasing. Hope he hits you in the bat.

Windmill windup. Release. Swing. THUMP. “STEE-rike three.” Never heard it; never saw it. As I turned, the crowd began howling. I pivoted around to see Feigner holding the ball aloft with a toothy grin. It had never left his hand. I had swung and missed a real phantom pitch. The catcher had loudly pounded his mitt and the ump bellowed “STEE-rike three.” That’s show biz.

That was the “King and His Court.”

And his jester.

Gasparilla Follow-up

The recent column on Gasparilla brought a spate of e-mails and a couple of letters that were all variations on the same theme: Thanks for the “sobering” look. Well, thanks, in turn, for the sobering feedback. It matters.

Most of the correspondents provided first-hand observations of disgusting behavior.

One, in particular, referenced a long day’s Gasparilla journey into a nightmare that ultimately resulted in a teen’s death by alcohol and drug poisoning.

“The paramedics and medical staff (in St. Joseph’s Hospital emergency room) were brilliant,” said the writer.

Alas, nobody else was.

McCain No Maverick

Remember when Sen. John McCain was the “maverick” presidential candidate? Nothing epitomized it more than telling off Jerry Falwell & Co. during the 2000 campaign. Ever since, he’s been deconstructing that label in anticipation of another run – one in which he can’t afford to alienate true believers on the right.

Most recent case in point: His presidential campaign, which is currently chasing Mitt Romney’s for organizational heft in Florida, has announced the endorsements of Cuban-American U.S. House members Lincoln Diaz-Balart, Mario Diaz-Balart and Ileana Ros-Lehtinen. They are among South Florida’s most dogmatic Cold Warriors when it comes to Cuba.

Maverick?

Is James Garner available?