Polk County Shooting: Not Just Frontier Justice

After that hail of bullets riddled the body of cop-killer Angilo Freeland, some questions were begged. It makes sense that the family of Freeland wanted to know why it took a Bonnie and Clyde fusillade of 68 bullets (out of 110 fired) to kill their son. And it makes sense that they were not pleased with the Dirty Harry answer of Polk County Sheriff Grady Judd: “

Impetus Of Evil

As anniversaries go, it won’t draw any commemorations or memorials. It’s no 12/7/41 or 9/11/01. But 1/29/02 certainly grows in infamy and fallout.

That was the day President George W. Bush, enamored of a coinage by speech writers David Frum and Michael Gerson, spoke of an “axis of evil” that the U.S. – and the world – had to confront.

By incongruously compartmentalizing Iran and North Korea with Iraq – and then invading Iraq the next year before it could further advance its “WMD” arsenal – the president had sent some careless, simplistic signals.

The State of the Union use of “evil” was counterproductive. The word smacked of moral high ground and the theological. “Evil” is, by definition, nothing you make a deal with. Geo-politically, “evil” either implodes like a corrosive, irrelevant empire, or it’s so inherently dangerous that it has to be killed off.

The message received – even if not sent – was a reminder that nobody invades a country with nuclear weapons.

Whatever chance remained for rational leverage — in dealing with either Iran or North Korea — was undermined. North Korea, under its narcissistically cagey, oddball, power-hungry leader Kim Jong Il, has now officially crashed the nuclear power party. Does anyone realistically expect Iran, featuring the apocalyptically wily Mahmoud Amadinejad, to hold out for an invitation?

Call it the impetus of evil-labeling.

Streisand (F) Bombs

On tour for the first time in a dozen years, Barbra Streisand made up for lost time last week when her 20-city show played Madison Square Garden. By all accounts, New Yorkers still love their quintessential diva. At least most of them.

Some didn’t care for a low-brow skit involving Streisand and a President Bush imposter. One heckler wouldn’t let up. Streisand finally silenced him with “Shut the (expletive) up

Aesthetic Assault in St. Pete

Maybe it’s cultural. Then again maybe it’s generational. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a matter of right and wrong, and I’m right – however un-hip.

I’m talking about the recent noon-to-10 pm Sunset ’06 concert in Vinoy Park on downtown St. Petersburg’s waterfront. It was billed as the Bay Area’s first electronic music festival, which as near as I could figure, means a gathering of lots of DJs and plenty of heavy-duty amplifiers.

I was privy to it not because I was one of the 5,000-10,000 in attendance, but because I was somewhere in St. Petersburg. The I-175 off-ramp for openers.

Think the imposition of the migraine bass from hell. Think those who forget the purpose of a microphone and need to constantly yell into it. Think Howard Dean in Iowa. On steroids. Think Vince Naimoli arguing a speeding ticket. Think the same beat and the same sound hour after hour. And, yes, it follows you out to sea. Sunset was never so aesthetically compromised.

I know that if I were staying at the Vinoy, I’d be looking for an apology and a refund. If I lived in a nearby condo, I’d make sure Mayor Baker got an earful.

So, memo to Mayor Pam: Sure, we wish we had St. Pete’s happening downtown scene. And we know you’re trying to fast forward downtown Tampa into a viable arts-business-entertainment-residential neighborhood. But if the opportunity to host an electronic music festival at, say, Curtis Hixon Park is ever proposed, please pass on it.

Even during the height of hurricane season.

Cardinal Rule: Honesty Can Actually Work

Here’s what doesn’t make any sense at all about those rhetorical implosions that have been occurring in the re-election campaign of Virginia Senator George Allen. As a prominent political figure and viable presidential contender, he presumably has access to some of the sharpest, savviest assistants, consultants and spinmeisters around.

But what have they been advising? Or does he just not listen?

Any public relations novice — or generically honest person — could have handled his “macaca” moment and those n-word accusations from the 1970s in a far less clumsy manner.

There’s an applicable, two-part cardinal rule.

Simply tell the truth – and do it right away. Don’t monkey around; don’t become a media serial. Don’t punch some newspaper’s Pulitzer ticket.

At its worst, the truth in the “macaca” case wasn’t going to cost Allen an election. That he stupidly uttered an obscure, off-the-cuff, racial pejorative — native to North Africa – could have been acknowledged and apologized for. It was an insensitively dumb, embarrassing gaffe – but only one day’s worth. A publicity speed bump, not a gaping, campaign sink hole.

Allen, at it turned out, was undoubtedly as familiar with the term as was his mother, who grew up in — Tunisia. But he inexplicably said he “made it up.” That was as untrue as it was unfathomable. It was also an insult to anyone sizing up a front runner who thought it didn’t much matter what he fed the public on this one. As a result, the story sprouted “legs” and was a fortnight’s fodder for political talking heads.

And it let his opponent, Vietnam vet-novelist-former Republican James Webb, back in the race. Big time.

As for those scarlet letter, n-word allegations, unless it stands for nincompoop, the cardinal rule is to admit such “that-was-(immature 20-something) then, this-is- (politically correct) now” indiscretions. Then apologize for them. And then immediately bridge to your agenda for America in 2006. The stuff, in effect, that really matters.

The less-than-subtle message: “I’m here to talk about the issues on the minds of most Americans, if not most members of the media. I’m here to talk about America’s priorities and how best to address them – not what I said while horsing around on campus a generation ago. Next question.”

Foley Fallout

Congressman Mark Foley is gay, which should, frankly, engender a collective “so?” from the body politic. By all accounts, his sexual orientation has rung true for years. But it’s not particularly pertinent to Page-Gate. Those who troll for minors and abuse their positions of authority ooze from all demographic ranks.

He also says he has a rehab-serious drinking problem and was, as a youth, molested by a member of the clergy. Advisedly, we take him at his word – except the disingenuous part about claiming these are not meant to be excuses. This is the victim card purposefully and perversely turned on its head.

All that matters is that, at minimum, Foley’s behavior has been disgusting, salaciously sleazy and — still — manipulative. And that he had more than his share of inside-the-Beltway enablers.

Class Size Scenarios

By next Monday (Oct. 16), school districts throughout Florida are supposed to be in compliance with the state constitution’s class-size (Pre-K-3/18, 4-8/22, 9-12/25) amendment. Here in Hillsborough County, as elsewhere, that means a lot of last-minute scurrying around in a number of schools to create space, split classes and, especially, add extra teachers. Co-teaching – sometimes a worthwhile tact but often a gimmick – is now a favorite strategy.

If state-required (school) averages are not met, then more state money must be diverted to new construction.

Basically it’s reality-check time.

All things being equal and sufficient funds being readily available, smaller class size is always a clear winner. Who wouldn’t want to improve the learning environment? But all things are never equal and sufficient funding is typically siphoned from somewhere else.

Now ominously looming is the trade-off that pedagogical — as well as political –Cassandras warned of when voters passed the class-size amendment in 2002. Absent enough additional room, you will need more teachers. Alas, they’re in demand, and there’s a real premium on good ones. The best and the brightest still don’t come calling on education for a career.

So we have teachers exchanging their planning periods for extra pay to co-teach. None but the myopically idealistic would confuse a stop-gap measure with sound educational strategy. You’ll also have more teachers teaching outside their major certification areas to fill vacancies.

As important as teacher-student ratios can be, nothing is more important than a quality teacher. The trade off just isn’t worth it.

Bonds/Williams*

Apparently Barry Bonds will return for one more Major League season and a final shot at breaking Hank Aaron’s career home run record of 755. Bonds now stands at 734.

As to whether he warrants a supplemental asterisk — or an indictment — is yet to be determined. Surely, at least one of the aforementioned.

But much has been made of what he did this year at the advanced baseball age of 42. He hit .270; muscled out 26 homers; and drove in 77 runs.

For comparison sake, let’s also reference the late Ted Williams*.

When he was 42, Williams hit .316; clouted 29 homers; and drove in 72 runs in (his final season of) 1960. His literal last at-bat was a home run.

Most remarkably, he did it in an era when players still grew hormones the old- fashioned way.

And don’t forget that Williams, a career .344 hitter whose lifetime numbers included 521 homers, was a fighter pilot in both World War II and the Korean War. It cost him the better part of five seasons and more than a few career records. He took one for the ultimate team.

*Now there was an asterisk.

Homers In The Booth

The legendary Larry Munson, the radio voice of the University of Georgia football, is celebrating his 40th anniversary behind the Bulldog mike this year. The occasion has received a lot of national attention.

I first heard his raspy drawl when I lived in Atlanta in the ’90s. His reputation had preceded him, so I checked out Munson even though I was hardly a UGA fan.

It was a dumbfounding experience. Granted, he was colorful and down-home, but I had never heard an announcer describe the home team as “we” before. As in “‘We’ were stopped just inches short of the goal.” Or “‘We’ just burned our second time out.” Or “‘We’ score! ‘We’ score!”

I understand home team announcing and, as a fan, I’m all for it. It’s part of the collective rooting experience. It’s part of identifying with your team. But the “we” stuff is just over the top.

And, yes, that’s also the style of Gene Deckerhoff, the voice of Florida State University football and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. But whether it’s the other team’s guy or it’s ours, it’s still bush league.

Sorry, fellow FSU and Bucs fans, it just is. We deserve better.

Cheap Shots

We’ve all seen that spleen-rupturing photo of Chris Simms down on one knee and wincing in pain after a Carolina Panthers’ cheap shot. In retrospect, we all admired his gritty performance.

Less than admirable, however, has been the opportunistic use of that image as a marketing hook for the St. Petersburg Times. As in: “Keeping you in the know. We told you first.”

Call it another cheap shot.