Martha Coakley, BFF

Imagine my delight when I received an email from Facebook with the subject line, “Martha Coakley suggested you become a fan of Martha Coakley . . . ”

Of course she did.

Then imagine my delight when I received the same email a second time.

It linked to Coakley’s Facebook Info page, which contained the usual factory-installed political boilerplate that simultaneously tells you everything and nothing at all about a candidate.

But Coakley’s Facebook Wall was far more enlightening. Here’s what Robert M. had to say:

We met Martha before her run for Attorney General and in the flash of a moment I knew she was/is a genuine person.

And here’s Augusta S.:

You are to be admired!

But my favorite Wall posting comes from Annemarie R.:

You are to be admired!

Up against the Wall, mother – I dunno – lover?

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Yes We Won’t

Interesting piece in Saturday’s New York Times about the raging healthcare debate and Barack Obama’s notroots.

As the health care debate intensifies, the president is turning to his grass-roots network — the 13 million members of Organizing for America — for support.

Mr. Obama engendered such passion last year that his allies believed they were on the verge of creating a movement that could be mobilized again. But if a week’s worth of events are any measure here in Iowa, it may not be so easy to reignite the machine that overwhelmed Republicans a year ago.

Isn’t this the same thing that happened after Deval Patrick’s Massachusetts gubernatorial win in 2006? Back then, Patrick supporters – and many media mavens – anticipated a bully digital pulpit that would ignite the BayStateroots (like Blue Mass Group) to pressure Beacon Hill 1.0 into executing the policy reforms Patrick had promised.

State lawmakers executed them alright.

And now, it looks like Obama might meet the same fate on a national level.

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Julie & Julia & James

Mad props to Boston Herald film critic James Verniere, whose rave review of “Julie & Julia” topped the blurbs in a full-page ad for the movie in Saturday’s New York Times.

According to Verniere, “‘Julie & Julia’ is the summer’s first edible blockbuster,” whatever that means.

Then again, the #2 blurb came from the remains of Rex Reed, whose approval can very often be the cinematic kiss of death.

Regardless, Jim – boffo!

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Les Paul, RIP

When I was a kid growing up in New York, I heard a lot of the great Les Paul on WNEW’s Milkman’s Matinee and  Make Believe Ballroom.

He – and wife Mary Ford – were fabulous.

Two things that stand out from the Les Paul obituaries:

1) His right arm. As Jon Pareles’ New York Time obituary notes (as did many others):

They were touring in 1948 when Mr. Paul’s car skidded off an icy bridge. Among his many injuries, his right elbow was shattered; once set, it would be immovable for life. Mr. Paul had it set at an angle, slightly less than 90 degrees, so that he could continue to play guitar.

2) His depth of influence. It ranged  from Duane Allman and Eric Clapton to Bob Marley and Ace Freehily Frehley of Kiss,who said this about Paul to the Wall Street Journal’s Jim Fusilli:

“He was such a sweet, humble man . . . I don’t think he understood how big an impact he had on music. He always had his chops down. He never lost his talent or his sense of humor.”

He always had his chops down.

I should be so lucky it says that in my obit.

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Cairo Nazi Nailed

On Friday, The New York Times reported this about Nazi doctor Aribert Ferdinand Heim,  who apparently lived in Egypt for 30 years after he fled German police intent upon arresting him in 1963:

The German police confirmed Thursday that a briefcase filled with documents discovered in Cairo belonged to the Nazi fugitive and concentration camp doctor Aribert Ferdinand Heim. The police could not confirm that he had died in Egypt in 1992 as witnesses there and in Germany said.

Back in February, The Weekly Standard ran a piece about Heim, who converted to Islam and took the name Tarek Hussein Farid, that was truly impressive in its level of detail, although I can’t vouch for its accuracy.

I also can’t find a link to it, despite being a Weekly Standard charter subscriber. Anybody out there  who can help?

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It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere

Finally got around to reading “The Cocktail Renaissance” by Robert Messenger in the August 3rd edition of The Weekly Standard. It’s a little arcane for me – witness this bit of business early on in the piece:

We’ve forgotten where we came from. The names of many cocktails survive, but what they are sits in a realm of hazy inexactitude. The highly reputable drinks writer of the Wall Street Journal not long ago implied that “fresh orange slices” were essential to an Old-Fashioned, which may have been true during Prohibition with the rotten liquor, but wasn’t when the drink was born and isn’t today. What makes the confusion in this case almost amusing is that the Old-Fashioned originated in purists’ rejection of the fancy concoctions of the 1870s–when the modern cocktail was truly born–by ordering an “old-fashioned whiskey cocktail,” that is, one without all the syrups, fruit juices, and wines. But, one of the things that makes this true beauty is that you can vary it in endless ways, not with extra ingredients but with different types of alcohol and different bitters. Old-Fashioneds are splendid with the more aromatic gins and aged rums. I make them with Armagnac and with Calvados, or with Laird’s worth-any-search bottled-in-bond Straight Apple Brandy. The basic recipe is just that. And there’s the rub. There are only a tiny number of foundational cocktail recipes: the Martini, the Manhattan, the Old-Fashioned, and the Daiquiri. Making these well is just something to master: like the sound of Bessie Smith’s voice, how to carve a turkey, and the order of the Triple Crown races.

I’m not on this earth long enough to care about fresh orange slices and Old-Fashioneds. But the piece did trigger some memories (up to several of them fond) of my old man, who was a card-carrying member of the boozeoisie, as well as a killer drinkmaker according to numerous first-hand accounts.

Martinis were Jack’s specialty. My godmother, the fabulous Pat McBride, swore by his martinis and sometimes afterwards. I have no idea what my godfather Boyfriend Johnny Cullen drank, but I’m pretty sure he did.

Jack was nothing if not catholic in his bibulous sallies; he was a magus of martinis and Manhattans, a genius of Gibsons and Old-Fashioneds. It was said that his Brandy Alexanders stayed with you for days.

Despite Jack’s mixology magic, our home decidedly lacked the rarified air of A.R. Gurney’s The Cocktail Hour.  We, by contrast, lived in a third-floor walkup one block downwind of the Ruppert Brewery, which sprawled from 90th to 92nd street, and from Third to Second avenue.

That would be two square blocks of malt-and-hops apéritif, all day, every day.

No surprise, consequently, that many of the family heirlooms I inherited  were drinking-related, most notably a Waterford crystal decanter and The Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith, a hollowed-out book that contained a flask.

Cheers!

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Ads ‘n’ Ends II

Two eye-catching ads from Wednesday’s Boston Globe Metro section:

Chiquita To Go

A half-peeled, half-phallic banana stands, well, up under the headline, “Cool Yellow Carrying Case Included.”

The, er, body copy calls it, “The original energy bar, packed with nutrients to make your mother proud.”

Yes, and Chiquita’s newspaper ad is packed with images that would make my mother blush, rest her soul.

Be Bold, Be Bald!

This Globe Metro ad features a semi-circle at lower right with the thought-balloon: “Be Bold, Be Bald!”

Headline: “Wear a Bald Cap. Fight Cancer.”

Here’s how the advertiser describes itself:

Be Bold, Be Bald! was created by Small Army for a Cause, a 501c3 organization founded by members of Small Army (an advertising, marketing and creative services agency) in Boston, Massachusetts. The organization raises money for causes that have inspired us and touched our lives. Small Army For A Cause was launched in honor of Mike Connell, co-founder and former Creative Principal of Small Army, who lost his battle with cancer in 2007.

As the Boston Herald reported:

A fund-raising event to battle cancer urges people to go bald for a day. The Small Army for a Cause, a nonprofit organization whose mission is to help medically-related causes through unusual fund-raising events, is hosting the first annual Be Bold, Be Bald! event on Sept. 17.

Whatever you do, don’t miss the Balderizer. It’ll take the hair right off your head.

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Were That It Was “Were”

I’m as clueless as the next guy about the use of “were” with the subjunctive mood (assuming the next guy isn’t Strunk & White), but these two examples from Michiko Kakutani’s review of The Battle for America 2008 by Dan Balz and Haynes Johnson seem to me entirely wrong:

Given the voluminous coverage of that race, it might seem as if the obvious answer to these questions were no.

And . . .

Mr. Axelrod went on to argue, presciently it turned out, that Mr. Obama’s profile — his embodiment of change, along with his eagerness to challenge old dogmas of right and left — fit this historical moment better than Mrs. Clinton’s and that if he were right, Mr. Obama could catalyze a political movement and prevail against substantial odds.

Were these proper usages?  Boston Globe word maven Jan Freeman, help me out.

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Nesson Lesson

Charles Nesson, lionized local lawyer and co-founder of Harvard’s Berkman Center for Internet and Society, got his clock cleaned on Page One of the New York Times Tuesday.

And the piece – about Nesson’s hapless defense of illegal-music-downloading Boston University student Joel Tenenbaum – wasn’t just an ass-kicker; it was a head-scratcher as well.

Head-scratch #1:

What the heck was Nesson thinking to take this case at all? According to the Times:

Professor Nesson took on Mr. Tenenbaum as a client without pay last year at the encouragement of Judge Nancy Gertner of Federal District Court, who presided over the case and was uncomfortable with what she has called the “huge imbalance” between industry lawyers and the individuals they have sued.

Let’s stipulate that I’m a graduate of the Sam Waterston School of Law . . .  but is that kosher? Should a presiding judge be hand-picking the defense attorney?

Head-scratch #2:

Nesson’s noodnik “fair use” defense, which people apparently far sharper than Nesson strongly advised against, the Times reported.

Lawrence  Lessig, an internationally recognized expert on copyright at Harvard Law School, expressed serious reservations  about the suit and counseled  against Professor Nesson’s plan to argue that Mr. Tenenbaum had made “fair use” of the music. Fair use is a doctrine more commonly cited when small portions of a published work are quoted elsewhere. It would be wrong, Professor Lessig wrote, to “pretend” that “fair use excuses what [Tenenbaum] did.”

Face!

Even before opening statements, Professor Lessig was proved right: Judge Gertner prohibited the fair-use defense.

Head-scratch #3:

So Joel Tenenbaum winds up losing his case and owing $675,000 for illegally downloading 30 songs. Turns out he’s an even bigger noodnik than Nesson, as the Times verifies:

The $675,000 result could have been avoided by paying $4,000, the amount the industry demanded before trial. The 30 songs can be bought for less than $30.

Head-scratch #4:

Nesson apparently saw this as a legal Petrie dish independent of Joel Tenenbaum’s actual life. Once again – fair use! – the Times:

“Law in the court of public opinion is what shapes law in the courts and in the real world,” Professor Nesson said. “This could be ‘Civil Action II.’ ”

No, it’s Civil Action Doofus.

Several years ago the Boston Globe  ran a Charlie Nesson Keeps ‘Em Guessin’ feature story [no way I’m finding that link at this hour], which memorably included the fun fact that Nesson smoked a joint every morning on his walk to Harvard.

Next time, Charlie, don’t Bogart it.

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In the Tank?

Tank McNamara is a sporadically amusing comic strip that runs in the sports sections of roughly  300 newspapers, including the Boston Globe and the Washington Post.

Except not so much in the Post on Monday, as the paper’s comics blog noted (hat tip: Romenesko):

Today is the day that Dick Cheney advises the NFL to kill Michael Vick — the start of a satiric fictional storyline that, like a blindside sack or shooting accident, you just won’t see coming. At least not in The Washington Post.

That’s because The Post, both in print and online, chose not to run this week’s original “Tank McNamara” strips. Instead, Post readers will see syndicate-sanctioned “Tank” reruns.

The stripped-down version: “Tank McNamara” has embarked on a weeklong storyline addressing NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell’s tricky decision about reinstating former Atlanta Falcon’s quarterback Michael Vick, who just did a two-year stretch in the slammer for animal abuse in the form of a dog-fighting ring.

The strip that the Post spiked featured this conversation between Goodell and former vice president Dick Cheney:

” I have to make a big move on Mike Vick.”

“Kill him.”

” Kill him?!?”

“Well, not you personally.”

Unlike the Post, the Globe did run the strip. It’ll be interesting to see if the Globe follows suit on Tuesday, or throws Tank under the bus.

Update: Turns out the Globe stuck with the Goodell/Cheney storyline. In fact, the New York Times reports that the Post seems to be the only paper that spiked the strip. Maybe that’s because they live in rifle range of Cheney.

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