Archive for September, 2008

Stupid Economy

September 19, 2008

I’ve been avoiding this because from the way John McCain talks about it, I know as much about the economy as he does, and I don’t have a Military or Congressional Pension coming to me in retirement, I owe another 22 years on my home, and I’m not running for President of the United States.  Okay, okay, the quotes have been taken out of context, but Senator McCain’s financial security is clear. 

I’m worried.  I’m not in a panic, but I’m actually watching financial news with a bit more interest. 

See, I’ve been worried about my retirement since I started my job.  I’ve socked away into a 403b and a Roth IRA, and any tax refunds went to my kids’ college funds or retirement for my wife and I.  I’m not stupid.  I listened to my dad’s advice and started with my retirement during my first year teaching.  I started a college fund immediately after the birth of each of my children — all the while heeding the advice to save for your children but not at the expense of your own financial security in retirement. 

What kind of loans will they have to take out?  What will they qualify for?  What kinds of outrageous interest rates will they be faced with?

But don’t worry about your children, worry about yourself. 

Social Security is in danger.  Word from the current administration was to invest early and often.  Privatize Social Security.  Put Americans in charge of their financial futures.  I’m okay with that, but I can’t help but feel my government is out to get me. 

The IRS recently changed rules, making non-profit businesses where employees are eligible for 403b’s jump through more hoops, in some cases limiting the number of plans employees might choose from.  I recently received notice that my current 403b provider is no longer an option for me through my place of business, but I can choose between AIG and another company. 

AIG.  That’s refreshing. 

Don’t even get me started on the Republican Party as the party of smaller government.  Not in the last 8 years it isn’t.

Ragged Dick

September 18, 2008

What follows is a review I wrote last year of David Greenberg’s book Nixon’s Shadow.   As we approach the election, you might consider this look at Nixon as a way to look at any candidate. 


            David Greenberg takes a thorough look at the political lives and related personalities of arguably the most contemplated, analyzed and maligned American political figure in Nixon’s Shadow:  The History Of An Image.  Greenberg acknowledges and mines the extensive work already done by historians, analysts and reporters before him.  By exploring the ways we look at Richard M. Nixon, Greenberg reveals both the capricious depths of Nixon as a politician and the resultant impact of his image craft upon the American voters’ psyche. 

            In explaining why Nixon and his images polarize — from the party faithful to the list of enemies — and create fascination for even the politically dispassionate, Greenberg enlightens the cave dweller as much as he can, arguing that the shadows cast by Nixon are both real and perceived (xii).  Alluding to Ang Lee’s The Ice Storm in his introduction, Greenberg establishes that the use of a Nixon mask in an adolescent sexual rite of passage begs interpretations ranging from its symbolism for Nixon’s own “awkwardness” and “inauthenticity” to American estrangement from the political system and ourselves (xvi).  While not the first and certainly not the last politician concerned with image, Nixon represents “the primacy of images in politics” for postwar America (xxvi).  By illustrating the mutable path of Nixon from congressman to symbol, Greenberg examines how and why “individual perceptions” (xii) permeate the pictures Americans have of Nixon, for every image of Nixon stems from something real in Nixon (xxxi).  Greenberg concedes this does not mean every image is accurate, yet each image does have a valid reason for existing. 

            By exploring the arc of Nixon’s postwar career, Greenberg opens with candidate Nixon’s populist image.  Recruited by Herman Perry for the Committee of 100, Nixon represented an ideal GOP challenge to the incumbent, New Deal supporting, Democratic congressman Voorhis.  Church-going, veteran, attorney Richard Nixon would prove to have an “affinity for image craft . . . rooted in the distinct political culture of twentieth-century California, where, before the rest of the country, the cultivation of a candidate’s image was a key to electoral success” (4).  Nixon crafted of himself a candidate who would enable him to win:  “a clean-cut, upright avatar of the hopes of Americans who looked forward to a new era of opportunity and ease after the depression and the war” (4).  Nixon used the imagery of his community and upbringing to fashion a victory.  Greenberg reminds readers that the critics of this early Nixon image came on the scene later, and regardless of the criticisms, the image and its “poten[t] . . . conservative populism” won the election in 1946 (5).  To the conservative populist, government was no longer doing its job of serving the people, it was now holding him back (10).  Nixon effectively walked the balance beam of running for office.  He was who he needed to be.  Greenberg informs us that Nixon was “aware of the issues,” yet he “refrained from offering a concrete platform” (14).  Rather than saying what he would do, Nixon asked what the public wanted (15), and “(i)f his policy was anti-labor, it was not anti-laborer” (17).  From this populist conservative image, Nixon established future threads for future elections.  He spoke of “the forgotten man” in that early campaign whom Greenberg indicates evolves into the “Middle Americans” and the “Silent Majority” of his presidency (17).  To get elected, one must speak for those who cannot or do not speak for themselves.  Not much controversy here.


Critics only later charged Nixon with attacking Voorhis “opportunistically” (22), I wonder why that would be surprising.  What politician, wanting to win, has not been opportunistic about his opponent’s record?  Nixon’s success in 1946, may have been a result of his image, his campaign, his policies, but as Greenberg points out, “Across the country, Republicans drove out New Dealers in what the news media heralded as a changing of the guard.  The GOP captured both houses of Congress for the first time since 1928” (26-27).  With his “affinity for ordinary, middle-class families, his capacity for straightforward talk, his authenticity” (32), Nixon may very well have simply been the right guy, in the right place, at the right time, all the while capitalizing on Boorstin’s pseudo-event (xix) which Greenberg suggests throughout the book. 

            In the House and the Senate for six years, and then as vice-president for another eight, Nixon put on the mantle of anti-communist during a time of fear and uncertainty for many Americans; he could be the hero to the common man.  It was also during this time that Nixon found himself with a new image crafted by others.  His fame became national, and Nixon was not only a popular Republican speaker, but he was also a popular target of the liberal Democrat (36).  Hated not just for his politics, but also for who he was, journalists and the public now crafted an image that “was a photographic negative of the conservatives’ all-American hero” (39).  The cries of opportunism helped create the notion that Nixon was a phony, tricky, yet in attacking Nixon, not only was the Tricky Dick image created, but so too was the elitist, out of touch, liberal Democrat (40). 

In distrusting Nixon, liberals demonstrated they distrusted the American public, and the Checkers speech solidified Nixon’s position as well-loved on the right and most-hated on the left for the next eight years (and for many the rest of his life):  “The address not only crystallized the conservatives’ image of Nixon as an all-American hero but proved seminal for liberals as well . . . transform[ing] Nixon from . . . corrupt, business-friendly right-winger into a uniquely sinister operator of the machinery of modern politics” (50).  In 1956, with his role in doubt as vice-presidential candidate for another four years, “Nixon tried to remake himself as more mature and less combative – the first of what would be many ‘New’ Nixons” (63).  This remake was not so very new, however, as “Nixon – devoid of beliefs, willing to do anything to win” (64) was only acting the same way he had acted a decade earlier.  Greenberg’s argument that there is validity in images created comes through again.  For ultimately liberal attacks on Nixon’s deceptions may have been accurate, but maybe liberals had lost the pulse of the public, contributing to “the neglect of poverty, public health, and the environment” (67).  This misreading by liberals might best be seen in the presidential election of 1960. 

            Democratic candidate John Kennedy and Republican candidate Richard Nixon and the results of the election itself reveal tremendous miscalculations from both sides.  “Some charged that the two nominations represented the triumph of style over substance” (69).  The closeness of the race and the emphasis on style indicate blindness from both sides.  “Nixon,” for one, “so skilled with TV during the Fifties, ironically now fell victim to an increasingly image-conscious culture” (71).  And “liberals forgot that Nixon’s defeat was almost a triumph,” (71), so they were stunned by Nixon’s victory another eight years later, but they would drag out their image of Tricky Dick over the course of Watergate, and they would remain out of touch with the very voters Tricky Dick managed to woo (72). 

            Through his populist rhetoric, Nixon won the election in 1968, but charges of phoniness remained, and Nixon and a radical fringe of the left would butt heads with each other over the course of his presidency.  By 1968, the nation was divided.  Government suspected the left, and the left suspected the government.  Both had good reason.  “[T]he left’s conspiratorial image of Nixon seeped into the wider culture and became a powerful force in hastening the president’s resignation” (76), contributing no doubt to Nixon’s view that he was “up against an enemy, a conspiracy . . . . They’re using any means.  We are going to use any means” (78).  Each side rightly feared the other.  Nixon faced a New Left, and they “reinforced each other’s fears” (80).  The images, while not absolutely accurate, harbor a reason for existence. 

            The left created an image of Nixon as conspirator, and Nixon did them the favor of fitting the bill:  “Nixon’s program of political repression was qualitatively different from anything American protest movements had recently experienced.  The assaults were concerted, coordinated, well financed and thorough” (84).  All the same, charges of conspiracy were not heard as rational, but they certainly grabbed “the imagination” (86).  

Because of the New Left Radicals, Nixon became a symbol of government corruption and conspiracy.  While such corruption did not start with Nixon, he certainly did not behave as an innocent would.  “During the Nixon era . . . indulging paranoid fantasies made sense” (93).  Not only were charges of violent provocation from the White House uncommon, but such charges were not beyond the “realm of possibility” (96).  Meanwhile, the charges against Nixon which at one time seemed outrageous contributed to making impeachment possible, according to Greenberg (97), and Nixon’s role in Watergate both confirmed the radical left’s fears and solidified Nixon’s role as symbol of the whole corrupt governmental system (103).  As Watergate grew in the media, the New Left Radicals’ image of Nixon as conspiracist gained strength and created a paranoid view of a paranoid president.  Greenberg insists the “radicals helped create the conditions that made impeachment possible” (124), yet “[p]olitics no longer seemed a realm in which we could expect to find anything authentic at all” (125).  The disillusionment created by Watergate and impeachment created a bloc of voters who may very well never vote again.


            The conspirator image, the manipulator (tricky) image, and the populist image all played a part in the image we have of “Nixon as News Manager” (126).  Greenberg insists this image we have of manipulative Nixon news managing is misleading.  “For all their protests about Nixon’s manipulation of the media, their interpretations of the president ultimately proved far more influential and enduring than his own” (129).  Nixon’s earliest political press coverage had been positive (133), according to Greenberg, but Nixon had to be the one controlling the image.  Not one to glad handle the press, they had a hard time liking him.  “Few reporters felt any warmth from Nixon, and the discomfort, not any political disagreement, fostered a distrust” (134).  After the success of the Checkers speech and addressing the people directly, Nixon hoped to continue with similar successes and leaving out the media.  As Greenberg says, deciding for himself “how he appeared” (135).  Ultimately, as long as the press looked favorably on him, so his popularity was strong.  When the press discovered his duplicity, however, the press created the image of Nixon as false, duplicitous, deceitful.  Greenberg feels reporters did not realize at the time that their role in presidential image making is just as significant as the President’s.  While reporters felt duped, they also helped turn public opinion in favor of impeachment, and as a result of the impeachment and journalisms role and Nixon’s manipulation, we look at news management in a different way:  “Any act of news management could be the tip of an iceberg of concealment; any hint of deceit could justify an investigation” (176).    

            Impeachment is bound to make anyone feel victimized, and it certainly had that impact upon Nixon, but it was not the first time he felt threatened.  From 1948 coverage of his role in the Hiss case to the fund scandal in 1952 to his suspicions of Kennedy stealing the election in 1960 (188) led Nixon to “believe his actions had been justified” with Watergate (189).  By Watergate, long-time loyal supporters had witnessed the media turn against their boy, “and many Americans realized that the [Tricky Dick] image said as much about the liberals’ enmity toward Nixon as about his own wiliness” (186-187).  When the President of the United States is under fire, even previously mild supporters are often bound to become rabid protectors, and for some of those protectors, the “victim image endure[s]” (231).  The question arising from the victim mentality, according to

Greenberg, is how could Nixon view himself as a victim?  

            Greenberg outlines the rise of popular psychology in the postwar years and its impact on historical analysis and journalism and how we view Nixon.  Greenberg explains that no psychological account of Nixon is complete, but American questioning of Nixon’s psychological health is the curious image to come out of the psychoanalysis.  “Nixon later admitted . . . that a self-destructive impulse had been at work” (262), and it is after Nixon that “Americans scrutinized the emotional fitness of all their potential leaders . . . . Watergate established ‘some link between the private and public person’” (263).  Greenberg argues psychiatry cannot give us the answers we are looking for about Nixon when he cites Fawn Brodie.  Psychiatry would allow us to put a label on Nixon, and we think a nice label would give us the answers we want (265).  But ultimately,    psychiatry may very well reveal to the American public that Nixon is very much like many of us – just as he campaigned that he was (267). 


     Greenberg shows us that Nixon is in many ways what he claimed to be.  Nixon is also everything we make him out to be, and he is much of what he was made to appear by other image makers.  Nixon was a crook, a liar, and he was one of us.  He was every New Nixon he created and then some.  Opening Greenberg’s book, I knew the resigned Nixon.  The elder statesman Nixon.  The tanned, rested and ready Nixon.  Greenberg presented sides to Nixon I did not know.  I can understand now why my family would have voted for him the times they did vote for him.  But, Greenberg also helps me to realize that I knew him outside of his history.  “Time can bring forgetfulness as well as perspective, distortion as easily as clarification” (327).  More than anything, Greenberg reveals to me not Nixon, but every candidate I consider. 


Defining the Issues with Clarity

September 18, 2008

That’s a better title.  It establishes clearer purpose.   

I suggested yesterday that defining election year terms like elitist might be a useful way to spend the next weeks approaching the American presidential election, but what I really want to do is seek true definition of the issues and not just terms. 

Today’s issue is not really a timely issue as it’s been overshadowed by “the economy, stupid.”

But when we talk about victory in Iraq, what exactly does that mean?  What is victory supposed to look like?  How is victory to be defined?  Is it like pornography and we’ll know it when we see it?  Is victory achieved when the pre-war goals are achieved?  Does anyone remember what the pre-war goals were anymore? 

I recognize by asking these questions that I am not defining any issue with clarity as the title suggests here.  And I recognize by asking these questions I am opening myself to criticism by those who believe I am suggesting we “cut and run.”   However, I am of the opinion that we fix the mess we made. 

I am of the “Pottery Barn rule.”  I know why we are there; I hoped it was for other reasons, and as the build up suggested it was not for the reasons I believed in, I hoped a more solid case would be built.  Alas. 

The reasons for are as moot as the reasons against.  We are there.  But when politicians talk about Iraq in terms of victory and defeat, what does it mean for the United States to be victors?  Is victory only victory if we are not defeated?

Definitions please

September 17, 2008

As we approach the election in November, I’d like to explore the definitions of some campaign terms that keep coming up. 

First, I’d like to know what exactly an elitist is. 

What goes into the definition of elitist?  Is it snobbery?  Is it pedantry?  Is it wealth? 

How does one measure elitism? 

I ask because Mark Preston, Political Editor for CNN, blogged today about Lynn Forester de Rothschild — former Senator Clinton supporter — and her new support for Senator McCain.  Forester de Rothschild feels Senator Obama is an elitist and she can’t trust him.  I have no problem with someone believing, feeling and claiming they can’t trust a candidate, but I’d like to know what the elitism charge is all about. 

I’m particularly curious how a member of DNC’s Democrats Abroad who splits her time between New York City and London and is married to Sir de Rothschild can call someone an elitist.  But maybe I’m just proving the point.  I must be — in my 30 year mortgaged single home, non-vacation home owning, single city living, ten year old car driving, wondering why my lawn mower had to break down now thinking — an elitist.

If elitism sounds something like this:  “In case you’re wondering, ‘Crime, gee, I dunno’ is the moment when I decided to kick your a**,” then count me in.  Thank you Aaron Sorkin.

Increasingly Liberal-minded

September 3, 2008

Increasingly is not quite the right word. 

Mom has been progressive since I’ve known her. 

And now that I really think about it Dad has been too, I just haven’t really known it.  I’ve always assumed I knew his political, fiscal and social positions, but he never ceases to amaze me.  I suppose what I’m really trying to say here is that while I never knew Dad’s positions, as I come to know those positions more, he demonstrates himself to be a true liberal or as Henry David Thoreau might have described him:  self-reliant. 

My first surprise came in 2000, when I learned through my mother that my father voted for Ralph Nader.  This was the first time in my life, at the age of 28, that I ever learned who either of my parents voted for.  Then, in 2004, my father filmed a commercial for and Errol Morris

My dad.  The Horatio Alger story:  married to my mom in their teens, stationed in D.C. with the Navy during Vietnam, finished college with two young boys, his own father hospitalized, miscarriage, laid off countless times from the struggling steel industry in the 1970’s with a family to support, graduated top of his law school class with three young boys and Mom’s support, and climbed to Vice-President of Human Resources for National Steel.    

Now in his forced early retirement, he serves the underserved. 

None of these are true surprises though, as the partnership Mom and Dad created moves them from their backgrounds to fully independent minded, intellectually curious, analytical people. Dad would not be the person he is without the intellectual equal he has in Mom.  

Why do I insist — in my own mind — on referring to Dad in terms of change and surprise?

It must have been the biggest change I witnessed last weekend.  Though it’s probably something he has done in the past for his own boys, and it’s simply something I have no recollection of.  I’ve written before that Dad’s not changed a diaper.  Imagine my surprise when my son, whose arms are still too short to wipe himself, said as we washed our hands after my assist, “Dad-dad wiped me last time.” 

“What?  When?”

“When you were still swimming.” 

Way to go!