Despite unseasonably sweltering heat, West Hollywood Park was humming yesterday with the celebration of marriages on the first weekend that same-sex marriages are legal here in California. A great number of gay couples who have waited years for that opportunity were joyously seizing it. The City of West Hollywood anticipated the high demand, and set up a city park to handle the ceremonies. They had a registration tent, where several people who had been deputized by the County Clerk processed the marriage license paperwork, and then a half-dozen white canopies set up under the trees for ceremonies to take place.
It was in that setting that we were delighted and honored to witness the wedding of our friends Tom and Art, who have been together for 16 years. In some sense, they have been married for many years, and I witnessed their marriage in San Francisco in 2004 (those marriages were officially annulled by the court). And in that sense, today's ceremony was really a "renewal of vows" or a "state recognition ceremony". (Tom and Art viewed it as their second, and hopefully last, civil ceremony, and intend to have a church wedding with the big reception after November.) But despite those technicalities, and the inevitable sense of making a political statement, once it got down to it, it was clear to all of us there, including the participants, that this was a wedding, with all the same solemnity and all the joy of weddings everywhere. We all got choked up at the vows, and caught up in watching two people reaffirm their commitment to each other, and to an ideal celebrated by us all -- to love, honor, and cherish, for better or for worse, so long as they both shall live. There's something about the public declaration of a high noble purpose that strengthens and ennobles the declarers, and better enables them to reach their lofty aim. I think that's part of what makes weddings so emotional, that they are positively transformative.
That ideal, of a lifetime together through better and worse, is one of the highest and most celebrated in our culture. And there's nothing gay or straight about it. It is a human ideal, a calling of the values we were raised with, gay and straight alike. One thing that has struck me about the gay weddings I have seen is how not different they are from straight weddings. The content of the ceremony -- the promises and vows exchanged, the prayers, the blessing of the rings -- is identical. The form is entirely familiar. The joy, the solemnity, and the emotion are the same. The only notable differences are the additional emotion of long-awaited justice (in every ceremony last week, there was a big whoop when they got to the "by the power vested in me by the State of California" part), and in the duration of the relationships of most of the couples getting married. With most straight weddings, the vows are entered into with hope at the outset of their lifetime together. With most gay weddings (at this point in time, though it will change in the future), the vows entered into have substantial years of proof behind them backing up the hope for the future. Couples like Tom and Art (together 16 years), or our friends Steve and Scott (together 14 years) who married earlier in the week, or the many other couples we've seen in the papers who have shared decades (like the women in San Francisco who'd been together 55 years!), those couples know a thing or two about what it takes to stay together for better or for worse. And many of those in our community know too well about "in sickness and in health". Often at the beginning of a wedding ceremony, the celebrant will say something about how marriage is a solemn estate, not to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly. We know. Some of us have been practicing marriage for quite some time. And we do not enter into it lightly.
June means many wonderful things at the local farmers' market, but in our own backyard June means peaches. We have a wonderful Tropic Snow peach tree that has been a reliable and early producer every year since we planted it. I like to say that it blooms out on Martin Luther King Day, and we have peaches for Memorial Day, which we really did one year, though it's usually a week or two after for the fruit. The fruit is a white freestone peach, sweet and very juicy. The tree has always been a prodigious producer, though in the early years, our peaches were closer to golfballs in size. We tried thinning them early, but it didn't seem to help. This is the first year the peaches have grown to a really good size.
When the peaches are in, they're in, so for a couple of weeks, it's lots of fresh peaches, peach cobblers, peach compote, and still giving away plenty to friends and family. And of course Sundays in June mean peach waffles. My husband always makes us a wonderful hearty breakfast on Sundays, but the June Sunday breakfasts are special treats.
LA Women's Shakespeare Company and The Dogsbody have produced an extraordinary production of Macbeth. First, the play has been pared down to its essentials, being performed by only three actors and coming at only an hour or so. But even though the production is "bounded by a nutshell" in time and space (the Ruby Theatre is about a 50-seater), director Lisa Wolpe "counts herself king of infinite space" by doing a very psychological version of the play, very subjective, set inside the increasingly undone mind of Macbeth. With a quick shift of voice, posture, and lighting, the same actors transform in an instant from Macbeth and Banquo to witches and back, effectively covering multiple characters with the spare cast, or perhaps suggesting that the witches were voices and visions inside Macbeth's head. In the banquet scene, the director has cleverly inverted the traditional staging to great effect. We expect to see discomfited dinner guests on stage watching Macbeth become frightened by thin air. In this version, the bloody Banquo is physically present on stage, while there are no guests, leaving Lady Macbeth to turn apologetically to the audience, as if we were the guests. It was an excellent way to play it from inside Macbeth's head. The three actors all performed admirably in gender-swapped roles, with Kate Roxburgh doing a powerful Macbeth, Gavin McClure as Lady Macbeth and Satan, and Lisa Wolpe doing a compelling MacDuff, Banquo (alive and ghostly), Duncan and various other parts. Wolpe gave an especially memorable turn as a demonic porter (the audience applauded at the end of the bit, as at the end of a great jazz solo riff). The production was also impressive, as much was made of a small spare set, with good lighting and sound. A cauldron in midstage provided a threatrical entrance and exit for Satan, witches, and even the porter, as well as a final exit for Lady Macbeth, whom we see plunging into hell. And great sounds, like the screech of an owl and a raven, really turned the screw. The knocking on the castle door just after the murder was never so thunderous or ominous as it was in this very intense psychological production. This was the last weekend for the show in LA, but they're taking it to London in July, and to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in September.
In an atypically expedited action today, the California Supreme Court dismissed all motions holding up the implementation of their historical decision recognizing the fundamental right of gays to have our marriages to be accorded equal dignity by the state. They dismissed a motion to rehear the case (by the same 4-3 vote that decided it), and they unanimously declined to stay their decision pending the outcome of an initiative constitutional amendment scheduled for the November ballot. This means that licenses should start issuing as early as June 17. Those who decried the Court "disregarding the will of the people" (a fundamental misunderstanding of how our constitutional form of government is supposed to work, which I have discussed before) are now indignant about the "arrogance" of the Court in not being able to wait until November to see the outcome of the election. These same people complain about the arrogant Court supposedly usurping the prerogative of the legislative branch, as well as the people, and "making policy decisions, not legal ones". I find that ironic. The Supreme Court has interpreted the Constitution as it stands today, which is exactly what their constitutional role is. Theirs is not to speculate about how the Constitution might be amended pending the outcome of future elections. That would be a political decision, not a legal one. I found the same irony in reading the dissenting opinions, in the notion of present political powerlessness as a criterion for identifying a "suspect class". The dissenters urged that the Court should take notice of the legislative progress in advancing gay rights, and hold this against finding sexual orientation to be a suspect class. They also seemed to suggest that the Court should not step in to a matter where there had been active legislative advances. But such judgments, about progress and political power, are political judgments, not legal ones. The legal judgment should consider the law in question against the Constitution, pure and simple. Either the law is constitutional or it isn't. That decision should be timeless, and without regard to current political circumstances. Yet these same people (including the dissenting Justices) who cry that the Court overstepped its role and made a political decision, are wanting the Court take notice of political considerations. Whether gays are "powerless" or "powerful", whether the legislature is making sufficient "progress", those are not legal considerations. The Court, in reaching its decision, properly looked only to the constitutional law. Even more strange, if the dissenters' suggestions to consider progress and power are taken seriously, the logical conclusion is that the Court should have recognized the infringement of fundamental rights when the question was first brought in the 1970s, when gays were powerless and there was no progress. Apparently, had the dissenting Justices been on the Court thirty-five years ago, they would have ruled in favor of gay marriage then, when the injustice was even more stark. But if it was unconstitutional then, it is unconstitutional now. Assuming you're not "overstepping". Tell me again who's making political decisions? In any event, it's nice to know that all seven Justices are in agreement that justice delayed is justice denied.
On the night of his clinching the nomination, I hope Obama does not make any hasty decisions about his running mate. It would be a mistake to cave in to Clinton's emotional blackmail to put her on the ticket. When the noise and hurt feelings calm down, Clinton supporters are not going to turn to McCain. Clinton does little to add to Obama's ticket, and brings a boatload of negatives for the general. (Not to mention what would happen after the election. Having the Clintons in Observatory Circle would be a three-ring circus.) If Obama is smart (and he is), he too, to quote Clinton, "will be making no decisions tonight", nor should he for quite some time. For one thing, an ongoing "veepstakes" will give the media something to buzz about, and the announcement of a selection will be an "event". Better to milk that for a while. Then down the road apace, from a dispassionate perspective, it will be more clear to everyone (except for the last few foaming-at-the-mouth Clintonistas hoarsely calling for a Denver floor fight) that there are much better choices. Think that America's daughters need a woman to look up to? Kathleen Sebelius would be a fine choice. Want some kick-ass southern military cred? Jim Webb would be great. Senior foreign policy experience? Joe Biden. Or experience plus a commitment to post-partisan politics? Go for Chuck Hagel. Those are the sort of choices that would positively bolster the ticket. Meanwhile, if Clinton truly wants to do the best thing for her party, she should campaign enthusiastically for Obama, and quietly lobby for a cabinet position if she wants. She could make a good Secretary of Health and Human Services. Or stay in the Senate, where she could do a lot for the causes she's been talking about, like healthcare and education. (Heck, she might even finally back up her empty talk about repealing "Don't Ask, Don't Tell".)
While I think Andrew Sullivan is brilliant, and his is the first blog I read every day, I don't always agree with him. After reading his praise of Starbucks' new petite vanilla scones (which he put as superior even to the toffee almond bar), I thought I'd give them a try. I like scones, and the idea of a petite pastry was appealing, since the delight of the blueberry oat bar, the maple oat nut scone, or the toffee almond bar are calorie splurges I reserve for a rare occasion. But these? How can they even call these scones? (You'd think Andrew, a born Brit, would know better.) Scones are firm and flaky. These are soft cakey things with a bit of icing on them. If I'd wanted a madeleine, I'd have bought a madeleine (which have been on offer for a long time). Sorry, Andrew, but this so-called scone doesn't touch the toffee almond bar.
We saw Sex and the City last night with a bunch of friends (at the Americana, natch) and it was a hoot. We loved it. In fact, a couple of our friends had seen it on Friday night and were happy to see it again with us the very next night. I think we'd see it again. It was nothing profound, mind you, and much of the plot was fairly predictable. (In the film, Carrie Bradshaw is working on her latest book, this one about Love and what it's like having found it. I don't have high expectations that she'd have much to add to the classical canon that is alluded to in the film.) None the less, it is delightful to see the girls go through all their amorous antics, and to see how their lives have unfolded three years after the TV series left us off. (I should note that it's not crucial to have seen the TV show. George and I had only seen it a few times, never having had HBO, and we still loved the movie.) It had some great laughs, and it had a few touching moments, and everything in between was as fun as a New York cocktail party. The actresses were all in top form, and the characters were as fresh, funny, and sassy as we fondly remembered them, not to mention over-the-top coutoured and accessorized.
It used to be that the notion of spending an entire day at a mall was totally preposterous to me. That was before I encountered the work of Rick Caruso, a visionary Los Angeles developer. A few years back he created The Grove in the Fairfax area, adjacent to the old Farmer's Market. No ordinary shopping center, The Grove incorporated quality shops, a good cinema, some really good eating options, and built them all around a beautifully designed outdoor space that is a pleasure just to be in. The shops are arranged along a pedestrian cobblestone street, with beautifully designed buildings along either side, with a side "street", a large sculpture in the center, and opening up to a grand fountain and landscaped area at one end. A trolley runs along the street, which combined with the fantasy-European feel of the buildings, gives the place a Disneyland-like charm (without the Disneyland admission price). Great care (and expense) was taken in the design, with quality materials like stone and tile in the buildings and street, and attractive landscaping including a number of mature trees. A couple of nice restaurants, one Italian and one French bistro/steakhouse, flank the entry with balcony dining and tables that spill into the outdoors at the ground level, adding to the European city feel. It's really a lovely place to shop and dine and spend a day, and it's no surprise that we often see stars here.
Now, just a few weeks ago, Caruso's newest development, The Americana at Brand, opened in nearby Glendale. This one has embraced the fashion of retail/residential development, with condos and apartments above the shops. The Americana is organized around a "village green" center, with a couple of lagoons, large grassy areas, a signature statue, and even a small playground. The lagoons include fountains that "dance" to music (like the famous ones at the Bellagio in Las Vegas), and which are quite beautiful. In the center of one lagoon is a large gilded statue reminiscent of Rockefeller Center. The gilded bronze of a muscular young man leaping upward in art deco splendor is a recreation of "The Spirit of American Youth", a statue at the Omaha Beach Memorial in France by Donald Harcourt DeLue, an early 20th century master of the heroic sculpture movement. Caruso actually tracked down an apprentice of DeLue's, to recreate the statue using some of the original casts. This is just an example of the quality and attention to detail that Caruso puts in to his developments. A brick street runs through the development, the architecture is classic American in style, and the overall feel is part Norman Rockwell, part Walt Disney. There are other great details, like a large classic-style clock on a pole, gas lamps, and large street lamps with craftsman-style stained glass and hanging flower balls.
On my first visit to the Americana, we met some friends for lunch at the Granville Café, a nice restaurant serving American fare with market fresh ingredients. We then spent several hours exploring all the shops, an interesting collection of boutiques and new brands. We discovered fun shops like Custo, a colorful designer from Barcelona; Ruehl, a version of Abercrombie & Fitch for people more our age (ahem); and Martin+Osa, an upscale version of American Eagle. (Since the Americana is adjacent to the existing Glendale Galleria, they intentionally avoided having the same shops. The Galleria was opposed to the new development, fearing competition, but I think they may find that it's a compliment that brings in more people to Glendale.) We took a break at one point, and went up to the deck of the three-story Barnes and Noble, where their café overlooks the village green. After a few hours of window shopping, we refreshed ourselves with gelato at the charming Caffe Primo, and then caught a movie at the new Pacific Theatres. After the film, we watched the dancing fountains which are particularly spectacular at dusk and later, when the water is uplit. We then did some shopping in earnest (the afternoon was to survey everything, the evening was for making some purchases) until the shops closed at 9pm. The wait at the Cheesecake Factory was still crazy, so for dinner we just grabbed some chicken-apple sausages from Jody Maroni's, and enjoyed the park-like feel of the village green and watched the fountains some more. The place was filled with people just enjoying the scene, and it felt festive, like the 4th of July or something. Finally after being in The Americana for nearly eleven hours, we headed home, having thoroughly enjoyed the day. And in less than two weeks, we've been back three more times, for more movies, shopping, and checking out all the restaurants (including Katsuya and Frida's). Well done, Mr. Caruso!
We enjoyed the much-anticipated Indiana Jones film quite a lot, although it may have helped that we'd heard lukewarm reviews, and thus arrived expecting the plot to be a hash, and with a heaping willing suspension of disbelief. Of course we also came with a heap of good will from the previous films, and looking forward to seeing a beloved character again. Sure, Harrison Ford is a lot older, but he's not too old to bring Indy back to life. An older Indy, of course, and with a bit of self-deprecation at his age, but still plenty capable of dashing through a great adventure. The suspension of disbelief was essential, not only for watching Indy dodge an incredible number of bullets and poison blowdarts (that was "old hat" for him), but for a ride down the Amazon in an amphibious vehicle that verged on jumping the shark. The 1950s period texture was nicely done, with Indy now post-WWII, and instead of Nazis to battle, he's now got the Russians (as well as the McCarthyites). Cate Blanchett did a nice turn as a charicature James Bond-inspired Russian villain, and Shia LeBoeuf gave a strong debut performance that gives hope for the future of the franchise. The whole movie felt just like a Disney ride, with imaginative scenery, familiar characters, some playful drops and sudden turns, secure in the knowledge that you were following a track that would end up safely, and all good fun along the way.
I have rhapsodized before about the wonderful market-fresh flavors at Pazzo Gelato in Silver Lake. This evening, Pazzo had rosemary chevre gelato. The rosemary chevre was divine. The lightly sour-salty goat cheese was marvelously blended with aromatic rosemary resins. The cheese flavor was up front, and the aromatic herb was on the finish like a good retsina. I paired it with a deliciously molassesy moscovado rum raisin, its dark sweetness a perfect balance to the savory herbed chevre.
Some people cry "judicial activism" whenever they don't like the outcome of a Supreme Court decision, especially when the decision overturns longstanding laws. Some of these people have simply forgotten their high school civics classes. For them, let me offer a brief refresher on some key points.
The Bill of Rights exists to protect the rights of unpopular minorities from being trampled by majorities. Although we live in a democracy, the majority does NOT always rule. That would be a "mob-ocracy", something our founding fathers wisely feared, and which is why they created a system of government with many checks and balances, including a Bill of Rights. One of the crucial jobs of the courts, especially Supreme Courts, is to interpret the Constitution, and to overrule laws that would violate constitutional rights. Thus, when a challenged law violates constitutional rights, it does NOT matter that the law was duly enacted by the Legislature, or by an initiative statute by vote of the people. In such cases, it is the proper job of the court to find the law unconstitutional, and to strike it down. This is not "legislating from the bench", it is interpreting the constitution. It is not a violation of the separation of powers, it is the completely proper functioning of an independent judiciary within a properly functioning separation-of-powers system. This has been understood to be the case in our nation since Marbury v. Madison was decided by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1803, and is a most cherished and fundamental precedent.
When a law violates constitutional rights, it does not matter that the law has broad popular support, or that the law has substantial weight of history and tradition behind it. There are numerous instances in our history where it fell to the courts to rectify the longstanding codification of infringed liberties and unequal protection. It is precisely when a disparaged minority is aggrieved by tradition and popular opinion that it falls to the courts to protect them. It would be nonsensical and self-defeating for the courts, in such cases, to give any weight to tradition or to popular opinion. The only thing on the court's mind is and ought to be the constitution and the laws they are to interpret. Tradition and popular opinion have no place in the process. If it were otherwise, we would still have segregated schools, all-male juries, and bans on mixed-race marriages.
Admittedly, tradition and popular opinion are powerful forces, and it can be difficult to keep them in historical perspective. It is easy to forget that older decisions now widely accepted were once highly controversial. Now in 2008, most Americans are rightly embarrassed about our history of segregated schools half a century ago, and most Americans would be rightly shocked and appalled at the notion that police might burst into someone's bedroom and arrest them for having a mixed-race marriage, or for using contraception. But in 1951, when Oliver Brown challenged the segregated school system in Kansas, his cause was by no means a popular one. In an early morning in 1958, when Richard and Mildred Loving were awakened to police flashlights shining in their faces, and demands of "Mr. Loving, who is this black woman in your bed?", longstanding tradition was not on their side. In 1961, when Estelle Griswold was arrested for opening a birth control clinic in Connecticut, tradition and popular opinion weighed heavily against her. And certainly back in 1948, when Andrea Perez (a Mexican-American) and Sylvester Davis (a black man) were denied a marriage license in Los Angeles, few people saw the injustice. Half a century later, the injustice of these situations is widely recognized, and we can be thankful that judges at the time had the wisdom and the courage to take the side of the constitution even against tradition and popular opinion. Even so, one can recognize the justice of long-past controversies, while failing to recognize similar calls to justice in present-day controversies. As Chief Justice George quoted the U.S. Supreme Court, "times can blind us to certain truths and later generations can see that laws once thought necessary and proper in fact serve only to oppress."
It seems to me that those who cry "judicial activism" must either competely reject a long and proud tradition of judicial review, or explain why it was appropriate to disregard tradition and popular opinion in Perez v. Sharp, Brown v. Board of Education, Loving v. Virginia, Griswold v. Connecticut, and other celebrated cases, while deferring to tradition and popular opinion in whatever unpopular constitutional case is at hand.
I was back east on business when I got word of the landmark opinion of the California Supreme Court on "In Re Marriage Cases", and I eagerly read through the whole 121-page opinion as quickly as I could. While I was overjoyed to hear of the just outcome, I was even more delighted to read the solid reasoning behind it. One thing that struck me throughout was the Court's refusal to indulge in hairsplitting, semantics and sophistry from either side. In each aspect of the decision, it squarely addressed the real issues. This common-sense court calls a spade a spade.
While all parties in these cases agreed that there was a fundamental right to marry, they differed as to whether that right substantively meant marrying the person of your choice, or marrying the opposite-gender person of your choice. The exclusionists argued that a gay man and a straight man both have an equal right to marry a woman, so what are we complaining about? Nonsense, said the Court. Our right to marry the person of our choice is a fundamental aspect of our individual identity and personal autonomy, and saying a gay man has the right to marry a woman is no right at all. The Court repeatedly harkened back to Perez v. Sharp, the landmark 1948 California Supreme Court decision that overturned laws against interracial marriage. They noted that similar arguments were applied then: a person had the right to marry the person of their choice, any white man could choose his own white wife, and any non-white man could choose his own non-white wife. The logic was wrong then, and it's wrong now. Formulating a substantive right so narrowly that it inherently excludes a class of citizens is just discrimination in a semantic disguise, and the Court rightly rejected it.
The Court also dismissed the notion that sexual orientation discrimination was a form of gender discrimination. This argument is often made by gay marriage proponents, because gender discrimination is an established "suspect class" (meaning that courts guard against that kind of discrimination more stringently) while sexual orientation is not. Thus, in order to claim the more protected status, arguments are framed in terms of gender discrimination. A gay man could marry a woman, but not a man, the only difference being the gender of the spouse, so there's gender discrimination going on, or so the argument goes. Not so fast, said the Court. We all understand what gender discrimination is, it's when laws disfavor women and favor men, and that's not what's going on here. What's going on here is discrimination based on sexual orientation, not gender. The Court called a spade a spade. Fortunately, the Court went on to establish sexual orientation as a "suspect class" in its own right (a new precedent), worthy of the same protections as gender, race, and religion. In other words, the Court said that while there isn't any gender discrimination going on here, there is sexual orientation discrimination going on, and that's just as unconstitutional.
While the appellate court had reached the same conclusions about gender versus sexual orientation discrimination, they balked at recognizing sexual orientation as a suspect class, because of the requirement that it be based on an "immutable" trait. The "immutability" of sexual orientation is a matter of some factual dispute, and the appellate judges felt the trial record lacked appropriate fact-finding to reach a legal decision on that. The Supreme Court, applying some common sense, reasoned that they did not need to find scientific certainty of biological immutability for their legal purposes. They noted that religion is among the recognized "suspect classes", and nobody would claim that you're born a particular religion and can't choose to change. Rather, because a person’s religion is so integral an aspect of one’s identity, it is not appropriate to require a person to repudiate or change his or her religion in order to avoid discriminatory treatment. Sexual orientation, the Court recognized, is "immutable" in the same way that religion is.
On a technical side argument, the Court eschewed the hairsplitting that gay marriage proponents had been spinning in regard to "Prop 22", the 2000 ballot initiative that said "Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California." This initiative statute was passed at a time when Californians were afraid they might be forced to recognize out-of-state gay marriages (Hawaii was the big threat at the time), and the language was placed in the legal code at a point that was describing recognition of marriages from outside jurisdictions. Gay marriage proponents, splitting hairs, claimed that the placement of the language meant that it only applied to California's recognition of gay marriages from outside states, and thus it did not preclude the California legislature from legalizing gay marriage within the state. Twice, the California legislature has passed such a bill, and twice Governor Schwarzenegger has vetoed it, saying that it violates the will of the people as expressed in Prop 22. (His position was that either the people had to overturn their own initiative, or the Court had to rule it unconstitutional, but either way, it was not up to the Legislature.) The Supreme Court opinion fully validated the Governor's position. Even though they ultimately rejected "Prop 22" as unconstitutional, they took the time to note that Prop 22 would have been interpreted to govern all marriages in California, and not just out-of-state ones. The clear implication being that had the Governor signed the Legislature's gay marriage bills, the Court would have shot them down as being in conflict with Prop 22 (which being a voter initiative, would take precedence over legislative action). No hairsplitting for this Court.
Finally, the Court gave a robust and common-sense rejoinder to the question of what's in a name. The Court noted the overall context of the question at hand, in that California has created a legal category called "domestic partnership", which is open to same-sex couples, and which gives domestic partners all of the same rights and responsibilities as spouses. So, the Attorney General asked, if the state provides all of the same rights and responsibilities to same-sex domestic partners as it provides to opposite-sex married couples, and the only difference is the name ("domestic partnership" vs "marriage"), isn't that equal protection of the law? No, said the Court, as we have learned from history, "separate but equal" is not equal. By reserving to one class of persons and denying to another the name with strong traditional and symbolic significance, the Court said that the state was denying equal "dignity, respect, and stature", which are themselves a substantive part of the right to marry. Not only is this a strong symbolic disability, the Court found, but because of the historic disparagement of gay people, the creation of a parallel but separate status is likely to convey a "second class" status, and signal a difference in dignity and respect. Moreover, because the newly minted "domestic partner" status will not have the same recognition and familiarity of marriage, domestic partners are likely to encounter difficulties and complications in the practical exercise of even those rights which are legally conveyed. Demonstrating a substantive understanding of the realities of the situation, the Court recognized that this "mere" difference of nomenclature has far more impact than "just a name".Thus it was that a Chief Justice with a reputation as a "careful jurist" and a "moderate Republican" was joined by three other judges (two of them Republican) in writing this: we conclude that, under this state’s Constitution, the constitutionally based right to marry properly must be understood to encompass the core set of basic substantive legal rights and attributes traditionally associated with marriage that are so integral to an individual’s liberty and personal autonomy that they may not be eliminated or abrogated by the Legislature or by the electorate through the statutory initiative process. These core substantive rights include, most fundamentally, the opportunity of an individual to establish — with the person with whom the individual has chosen to share his or her life — an officially recognized and protected family possessing mutual rights and responsibilities and entitled to the same respect and dignity accorded a union traditionally designated as marriage. As past cases establish, the substantive right of two adults who share a loving relationship to join together to establish an officially recognized family of their own — and, if the couple chooses, to raise children within that family — constitutes a vitally important attribute of the fundamental interest in liberty and personal autonomy that the California Constitution secures to all persons for the benefit of both the individual and society. [In Re Marriage Cases, Cal. Sup. Ct. S147999, pp. 6-7]
Not having read the Narnia books, we can't say whether Prince Caspian is faithful to them, but we certainly felt it was a faithful follow-up to the first Narnia film. If you enjoyed the first one, you should enjoy the second one. And if you thought the first one didn't have enough swashbuckling and sword-fighting, then you'll like the second one even better. If you love Aslan, well, we don't see much of him until he turns up for the "deus ex leo" ending, but he's as impressive in his CGI glory as before. The four young actors have all grown a bit, which suits the story perfectly. Although older, the characters are still kids, and make youthful mistakes, as does the new character, Prince Caspian (played by Ben Barnes, who is easy enough on the eyes to make me forgive his belabored pseudo-slavic accent). All in all, the film is entertaining, and good wholesome fantasy fare.
Though Marvel comics isn't our favorite genre (I enjoy it much more than George), we both thought Iron Man was superb. Robert Downey Jr. delivered the perfect Tony Stark, a sassy full-of-himself genius military technology industrialist with a true heart and pure patriotism, while Jeff Bridges was a spot-on ruthless big "good old boy", and Gwyneth Paltrow was wonderful as Stark's cool, efficient Moneypenny-like personal assistant. While we're definitely in a Marvel comic universe (Marvel's "heroes" often being a bit more nuanced and not just one-dimensional), director Jon Favreau does a great job coloring this well-paced action flick with balanced touches of self-conscious humor and real humanity in the characters. A scene when Paltrow's character jokes with Tony Stark about him being a secret superhero and her being the one he trusts with his secret does both at the same time -- playing with comicbook conventions while exposing the unresolved feelings between the two. The story is deftly set in a very contemporary anti-terrorism context, and the superhero action sequences are very cool. My personal favorite superhero moment comes relatively early in the movie, when "Iron Man" confronts a group of terrorists holding some innocent villagers hostage. The way he dispatches them is a spontaneous applause moment, and had me thinking "Wow, Northrop Grumman ought to be building some of that!"
I recently got back in touch with David Benkof, an old colleague from the Institute for Gay and Lesbian Education. He used to write a gay history column that was syndicated in many publications, and I used to be on his editorial board, proof-reading and commenting on articles prior to publication. In recent years, he has committed himself to Orthodox Judaism, and while still identifying himself as bisexual, he is guided by Jewish law, and is writing columns advocating much more traditionalist positions. I've agreed to be on his informal editorial review cycle once again, which should be interesting. Even though I'll likely disagree with his positions more often, he's a bright guy with a unique perspective, and I hope we'll both learn from each other. I'll probably take the opportunity to respond to some of his pieces (post publication, of course) on my blog. Here's the first.
David likes to seek unexpected common ground between divergent viewpoints, and over at marriagedebate.com, he comes up with a challenge for same-sex marriage advocates. If we're serious about respecting and preserving the traditional values underlying marriage, David asks, can we all agree not to legitimize "Daddy-boy" relationships by including them in any future revision of the definition of marriage? He's referring not to any actual incestuous relationships, but to relationships between consenting adult males where there is a large age difference, where the partners may refer to each other as "Daddy" and "my boy", and where a little whiff of taboo might give them a kinky erotic charge. By playing up the resemblance to incest, David hopes that it will be a slam-dunk for all of us decent folks to agree to exclude those kinky Daddy-boy couples from the definition of marriage.
Alas, it is David who is unwittingly proposing a significant and dangerous alteration to the definition of marriage. Historically, the official (i.e., legal) definition of marriage has always been a matter of a few clearly adjudicable requirements: opposite gender, minimum age, no common grandparents, and not already married to someone else. Any consenting couple who met those qualifications could get a marriage license. Whether the groom was a known wife-beater, whether the bride was on her tenth marriage, whether the couple were separated by several decades and a vast income disparity, the state did not inquire. Traditionally, the state has humbly held that the marrying parties themselves were in a better position than the state to judge the appropriateness of the union. But now David proposes to change that, suggesting that perhaps the state does know better after all. In order to preserve the dignity of the hallowed institution, so that no inappropriate role models would gain the imprimatur of state-sanctioned marriage, it now seems necessary for the state to poke its nose under the connubial covers.
I don't know how exactly David imagines implementing his proposal. Would there be a state marriage quality board comprised of moral authorities who would interview marriage license applicants (along with their references, neighbors and co-workers) to pass judgment on each marriage? If so, would there be periodic reviews of existing marriages to make sure that the moral quality hadn't declined? Will this be narrowly tailored to only exclude those who actually get kicks out of pretending to violate a taboo, or would merely using the term "Daddy" be a prima facie violation? Should we impose a maximum age difference on all marriages just to be safe? Instead of a review board, perhaps there would simply be an affidavit as part of the marriage license application, asking the spouses to disavow any kinky business. If so, how would that be enforced? Could any citizen bring charges against a neighbor whose marriage was creating a moral hazard? Would they be criminal or civil?
Remind me again - how is this proposal conservative or traditional?
Making a quiet opening this weekend in the shadow of Iron Man and Made of Honor, was the charming small British film Son of Rambow, an exploration of boyhood and imagination whose authenticity harkens Stand By Me from over twenty years ago. The film soars on the brilliant performances of the two middle-school-aged actors (Bill Milner and Will Poulter) who bring to life the two characters who dominate the film, Will Proudfoot, a small quiet boy with a vivid imagination and talent for drawing whose family belongs to an Amish-like sect called "the brethren", and Lee Carter, a tough troublemaker with a passion for film-making who is very loosely supervised by an older brother and constantly traveling parents. These unlikely collaborators meet in the school hallway because one is constantly being put out of the classroom for bad behavior and the other is constantly being put out of the classroom whenever the teacher shows a film or documentary TV show because he's not allowed to watch TV. Once they meet and find a common outlet for their combined talents in the making of an action-adventure film, their own lives become an adventure. The film mostly shows us these two boys making their film, in a way that's infused with subjectivity, with the boundaries between reality and imagination, as well as film versus film-within-film, being occasionally blurred. Sometimes we're in Will's mind, with animated action seeping into the real world, and other times we're in Lee's head, seeing his world through his camera lens. Even the "real world" is a boys' world, with abandoned industrial sites looking like a playground and every tree, field, and stream being a site for adventure. The dialog and the visual subjectivity are so completely natural and unself-conscious that one might forget that there was a writer and director at work here, so transparent is the hand of writer-director Garth Jennings. Before I realized it, this unique story had not only charmed me, but showed me something of boyhood character, friendship, and imagination.
So far this season, the voting on American Idol hasn't been too unreasonable, but last week, the voters went totally off the rails when they booted Michael Johns, and tonight was one of those nights where we really wanted to throw a brick at the TV. Sending Carly Smithson home this week was just wrong, wrong, wrong. She totally deserved to be in the final three with the Davids. And this week of all weeks, when she totally rocked, and when a couple of the other performances were notably obviously weak. And neither did Syesha deserve to be in the bottom two. If there were any merit to it, it would have been Jason and Brooke in the bottom two, and Jason going home. I think Brooke is really talented and unique, but she's been losing her nerve lately. Last night, even after the false start, she just didn't connect with her song. (I think it was tacky that in the recaps and stuff, all they focused on was her false start.) But Jason, ugh. Simon was right, he was like some wedding singer being asked to sing a song he doesn't really know and doesn't really like. It was just painful. In general, while I think Jason's got a certain distinctive style to him, a lot of his performances are just kinda flat for me. He was awesome doing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" way back when, and his Israel Kamakawiwo'ole-style "Over the Rainbow" was good too, but there's been a lot of flat in between. It should have been Jason this week. Carly, we'll miss you, we'll download you, and hope to hear more of you!
I stayed up late the other night breathlessly finishing Ken Follett's gripping book The Pillars of the Earth. His sweeping story, set in 12th century England, and following the interwoven lives of a mason, a prior, and the dispossessed daughter of an earl, was absolutely fascinating. The plot was a rollercoaster of dreams, conflict, ambitions and intrigue, with unpredictable twists and turns. The characters were engaging, with several noble heroes, a few vile villains, and many other glimpses of humanity. And all set in a very vivid and multifaceted description of 12th century life, leaving me with rich pictures of life in a monastery, in a medieval town, in the royal court, in a local nobleman's castle, and in the villages and the forests. I came for a rollicking story in a historical setting, and came away with so much more. Not just with a history lesson in the early Norman kings of England and the Thomas Becket affair, and a contagious appreciation for the art of cathedral architecture, but a fairly complete lesson in medieval economy slipped in painlessly under the cover of a great story. I knew a nave from a transept before I read this book, but I learned much about the revolutionary advances from romanesque to gothic architectural style, and what it took to get one of those amazing structures built. But lessons aside, it was the story and the characters that kept me rapt. Though they weren't always the most subtle (by and large, the good guys were good and the bad guys were bad), the main characters were given a lifetime of depth, with the heroes at least having times of doubt, frustration, and some imperfections. Over the course of the story, which spanned a full generation or two, I got to know and love (or hate) the characters, and even stayed up late at night sometimes worrying about how they would resolve whatever situation the last page had left them on. And as I closed on the final 150 pages, there was simply no stopping.
In recent comments, Attorney General Mukasey appeared on the verge of tears recalling the victims of 9/11, while arguing for increased surveillance powers. On salon.com, Glenn Greenwald busts Mukasey for his astonishing claim of an unintercepted phone call that could have averted 9/11, and his total straw man argument. If there really were such a call, there's no reason the FISA warrant requirements would have interfered with its interception. It's unimagineable that Mukasey could be unaware of this. The far more plausible explanation is that he is deliberately being disingenuous, playing the 9/11 fear card to further the erosion of reasonable constitutional protections. As Greenward noted, this sorry episode reveals Mukasey to be no better than Gonzales in being willing to sacrifice the very Constitution that he has sworn to uphold, in the service of increasing the unaccountability of executive power.
The episode also made clearer in my mind the surprising resemblance between the executive styles of President Bush and Would-Be President Clinton. President Bush has shown himself eager to fan the 9/11-inspired flames of fear in order to expand executive privilege, power, secrecy, and unaccountability. We need to simply trust him with unaccountable secrets, or else another terrorist attack is inevitable. He does not advance his policies by sober and reasonable argument, nor by leveling with the American people about actual threats and sacrifices. He appeals to fear. "Fear the terrorists, trust me to make you safe, and meanwhile, you all keep on consuming as if we're not at war." That's the Bush message. Now I can't help but wonder, is Hillary "Who do you want to answer that red phone at 3am?" Clinton any different? Her appeal is also to fear. The whole "3am red phone" campaign was designed to appeal to fear. She wants us to blindly trust in her experience, and not ask too many questions. (Especially when her experience turns out to be largely imaginary.) She'd be fine with Bush-style unchecked executive power, as long as she's the executive. We've seen how much Clinton values transparency and accountability. She has yet to respond to Obama's challenge to disclose her tax returns and her earmarks. She's all for secrecy. And accountability? Not so much. In sum, if you'd like to see a continuation of the Bush policies of expanding executive secrecy while reducing accountability, and justifying it all by appeals to fear, then Clinton is your candidate.
On the recommendation of a friend who had caught it at Outfest, we saw the film Shelter this evening. What a beautiful film! To call it a coming-out story or a "gay surfer film", while true, would vastly oversimplify this film, which deals as much with the conflict of a young man trading dreams of art school against the obligations of supporting his struggling family. The protagonist, Zach, loves to surf, and surfing plays a big role in the film, but as one blogger said, to say that Shelter is about surfing is like saying that Brokeback Mountain was about animal husbandry. Like Brokeback Mountain, this coming out story is also set in a very atypical and unexpected context for a gay story (in this case, the California surfing subculture) and with characters whose situations make being gay especially difficult. Zach is the only son in a working-class family, with a disabled father, a deceased mother, an irresponsible sister, and her five-year-old son, for whom Zach is his only father figure. When Zach discovers an unexpected romance with the older brother of his best friend and surfer buddy, it threatens to be a life-shattering conflict. What is wonderful about this particular story is that it is not just a unidimensional conflict about acceptance or rejection of being gay. It is also about Zach pursuing his dreams of going to art school, and fulfilling his sense of obligation to his family to support his young nephew (both emotionally and financially). It is not a simplistic narrative of being true to himself by embracing his "gay self". For Zach, being true to himself includes his family values and his artistic aspirations, as well as his newly discovered romance, and so embracing his "true self" doesn't pull him in just one clear direction. Seeing how he resolves this makes a very satisfying story.
Shelter is not only a beautiful story, but is filled with great music and wonderful visual imagery. I was not at all surprised to find on IMDB'ing the film that its writer-director, Jonah Markowitz, while making his feature-length debut in those roles, had long film experience in the art department and production design. The film was visually beautiful to behold, not only a cinematic paean to surfing and California beaches, but a visual valentine to the town of San Pedro (a working-class suburb of Los Angeles dominated by its location on the port, and its Croatian and Italian immigrants of last century). Not only the set shots of the shiploading cranes in the port, the Vincent Thomas Bridge, the lighthouse and the rocky cliffs, but the tiny bungalows, McGowan's market, the Pacific Diner. (In checking Markowitz' IMDB creds, I was not surprised to see his production design credit in Quinceañera, another film that combined a gay sub-theme with traditional family values in a unique way, embedded in a visual valentine to a distinctive gritty neighborhood, in that case my own Echo Park. I also noticed that Jonah Markowitz seemed to have originally been Jonah Markovich, a Croatian-sounding name which made me wonder whether he grew up in San Pedro, but I later read he had originally thought of Long Beach as the setting, and only stumbled on San Pedro while location-scouting in the vicinity.) Zach's artwork, mostly expressed as distinctly artistic graffiti, creates some great visuals as well (if you're not too put off by the glorification of a brand of vandalism). And all of this visual beauty is nicely underscored by a bunch of well-chosen (mostly original?) tunes.
The lead actors, relative newcomer Trevor Wright as Zach, and Brad Rowe (who was the object of Sean Hayes' desire in Billy's Hollywood Screen Kiss ten years ago), both do great jobs bringing their characters to life (especially impressive since I think both are straight). Wright is especially outstanding given all the emotional nuances that his character navigates through the film. Tina Holmes also adds depth in the supporting role of Zach's sister Jeannie, and Jackson Wurth is appropriately adorable as the nearly latchkey kid. This small indie film, which did well on the gay/lesbian film festival circuit last year, opened this weekend in a small number of screens in selected cities, and is also set to be shown on Here!TV cable channel next month. It is well worth seeking out, and I would enjoy seeing it again.
We thoroughly enjoyed Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day, a delightfully hilarious and romantic story about a down-on-her-luck unemployed governess with an amazing touch of serendipity. Frances McDormand is deadpan perfect as a slightly frumpy, unkempt, and less confident echo of Mary Poppins, whose magic is timing, and a sensible head and heart. Amy Adams is delicious as Delysia LaFosse, the blonde American nightclub singer and actress-wannabe, who is desperately juggling romances with the nightclub owner, a big West End producer, and a handsome piano player. Just as Delysia's manic life is on the verge of great success or total disaster, Miss Pettigrew arrives on the scene, pretending to be a social secretary, and fumbles her way to sorting out not only Delysia's life but her own as well. The film faithfully conjures a period piece mood of London on the eve of World War II, which casts an ominous shadow over the end, balancing the carefree flapper attitude of the younger characters. The story draws a nice contrast between the younger characters who have no experience of the previous world war, and the older ones who do. The film gave us some good laughs and some sweet smiles.
In discussing the Spitzer case with some colleagues today, it occurred to me that Spitzer actually committed several transgressions in the same act. There is of course the criminal act that he committed in engaging a prostitute. And there is the cardinal marital transgression of cheating on his spouse. And there is what is perhaps the most grievous public offense: hypocrisy. In his notable career as Attorney General, he had been a vigorous prosecutor of crimes including prostitution, so it was especially hypocritical of him to be a perpetrator of that crime. In my estimation, it was the hypocrisy that made it politically impossible for him to stay in office. As far as the marital transgression, I concur with many who find it personally reprehensible, and he deserves an expensive divorce. (If his wife stays with him, even that she would stand behind him at recent speeches, is more than he deserves.) However, I don't agree that it has much if any bearing on his qualifications to govern. Sure, ideally, I'd like my government leaders to be moral leaders as well, but that's a bonus if we get it, not a primary qualification for the job. People can be far from virtuous in their personal life, at the same time as being fine political leaders. His moral offense ought to be a private matter between him and his wife.
As far as the legal crime, I'm inclined to the libertarian view that prostitution shouldn't even be a crime at all, and so it's hard for me to get much worked up about that. It's almost entirely irrelevant to his duties as a governor (as compared to, say, taking bribes for political favors), although one colleague made the valid point that he did expose himself to the possibility of blackmail, raising risk externalities of legitimate public concern. A question of judgment is also raised. But it just doesn't outrage me in the same way as, say, finding a horde of cash in a Congressman's freezer. (And apparently even that doesn't make it politically impossible to continue to hold one's job.)
No, I think it's really the hypocrisy that was fatal to his career. Nobody likes a holier-than-thou crusader, and everyone loves to see them taken down. Who can resist the schadenfreude of such a Shakespearean fall? Bill Clinton and Jim Bakker both cheated on their wives, but it was only a career-ending move for the preacher. And as I've mentioned, William Jefferson is still in Congress despite being indicted on corruption charges, but the story would be very different if cash had been found in John McCain's freezer. (That's purely hypothetical just to illustrate the point. I'd be shocked and appalled if cash were found in McCain's freezer. But then that's the point.) Vice in any man is a failing, but vice found in those wielding the cloak of virtue seems the hardest to forgive.
Winnowing down from Top 24 to the Top Twelve, I think American Idol was working unusually well this season, and the right choices were being made. I've blogged before about how the way voting works on Americal Idol is inherently messed up. The run of good decisions was too good to last, and last week America seriously blew it when David Hernandez got voted off. (I just really hope he didn't lose because it got out that he was a stripper at a gay club, but I can't help but wonder.) My top three had been the three Davids. Hernandez has been awesome from Hollywood week (Love The One You're With), and I bought his singles of Rolling Stone and Midnight Hour from iTunes. Last week I was stunned when he was in the bottom three, and even more stunned when Kristy Lee Cook got to stay. (She's had some good performances, but last week wasn't one of them. Simon was right - it was Dolly Parton on helium.) This week I was okay with the end result -- I liked Amanda's spunk but her music wasn't really my taste -- but we were nearly throwing objects at the television when Ryan said that Carly Smithson was in the bottom three. That was just crazy. Despite Simon's not getting it, Carly's Blackbird was the performance of the week. She shouldn't have been anywhere near the bottom three.I still hold that David Archuleta is going all the way. Though this week's performance wasn't my favorite (I thought he was trying just a bit too hard to embellish), he's been consistently amazing, and has a really distinctive charismatic voice. But he'll get a tough run from David Cook, Brooke, and Carly. And with the top six rounded out by Syesha and Chikezie. Them's my predictions. That is, if America does the right thing. Big if.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed that tomorrow may turn out to be the real "super Tuesday", with two decisions of great moment that could happen tomorrow. The first, of course, is the presidential primaries in Texas and Ohio (as well as Vermont and Rhode Island). Texas and Ohio have been called Hillary Clinton's "firewalls", and after being fought to a draw on February's "super Tuesday", and then suffering 11 consecutive losses since then, the conventional wisdom is that she needs to win both Texas and Ohio in order to have any hope of continuing. The Clinton campaign, in a seemingly inexorable retreating spin, keeps redefining success downward. The last I heard is that she'll claim victory if she wins the popular vote in Texas, even if she loses in the delegate count. My best hope is that Obama can win Texas, not only in delegates, but in popular vote. As Clinton's campaign slides into Huckabee territory, will she have the good grace to concede, as the seemingly valedictory notes of her close in the Austin debate hinted? Or will she drag us through to June in Puerto Rico, clutching at uglier tactics to get her way? The math is ever more daunting. And while Huckabee majored in miracles, Clinton majored in law, so her approach to surmount mathematical improbability may be to mount a lawsuit against the Texas Democratic Party over how delegates are selected. I'm sincerely hoping tomorrow's outcomes preclude all that.
The other decision of great moment happening tomorrow will take place in a San Francisco courtroom, where the California Supreme Court will hear the appeal of the consolidated gay marriage cases. Here I'm hoping that the Supreme Court will see fit to uphold the excellent opinion of the trial court judge, in unequivocally smacking down denial of gay marriage as unconstitutional. (That opinion from a Catholic Republican judge, mind you.) Tomorrow, the Supreme Court will hear oral arguments in the long-awaited case. Their opinion is expected to be announced within 90 days. If they do the right thing, my husband and I might celebrate our wedding anniversary in July by getting a bonafide California marriage license. (Under the circumstances, the seventh anniversary will be paper.) Equality California noted that the case was one of the most heavily briefed of any case in the court's history, with 20 counties and municipalities filing briefs in support. They also noted that 2008 was the 60th anniversary of Perez v. Sharp, when the California Supreme Court lead the nation by two decades in striking down its miscegenation laws as unconstitutional. Let's hope they continue that honorable distinction of being leaders in justice.
I generally can't take violent and bloody films, but I have to say I really did enjoy Martin McDonagh's film In Bruges. The film is such an intriguing and at times laugh-out-loud funny juxtaposition of improbable elements: two hit men with honor and consciences laying low in Bruges, pondering a recent killing gone wrong while taking in the charms of one of Europe's most well-preserved medieval towns. Actually, one of them, Ken (Brendan Gleeson) is taking in the charms, while Ray (Colin Farrell) is the worst tourist in the world. Therein is the source for much of the humor, as the film manages to be a visual valentine to Bruges, at the same time making fun of Belgium (or at least poking fun at people who make fun of Belgium), and poking fun at tourists. Colin Farrell is a delight just to watch his brilliantly funny body language, he made me laugh just the way he sat as the two took a canal tour, with his shoulders shrugged up in his coat looking glum and staring at walls, while Brendan Gleeson takes in all the history and culture around them. And Brendan Gleeson is wonderfully expressive as the good-hearted elder hitman (if you can imagine such a thing, which McDonagh makes us do). And fortunately, these two great actors are not only funny, but excel in other poignant moments. For the irony runs profound in McDonagh's script, as the two men ponder their deeds while viewing medieval churches and Hieronymus Bosch paintings. In fact, a Bosch sensibility runs through the whole film, as McDonagh skillfully weaves his existential tapestry of transgression, guilt, and fate, in images both beautiful and grotesque. It is no accident that the final scene is a tableaux filled with costumed figures right out of The Last Judgment. Just as with Bosch's triptych, the end of this film is violent and bloody (and inevitable), but the masterfully executed dark humor and deeper reflection make it worthwhile to see.
Now that we've seen the Top 24, I think there are some clear contenders here. On the boys side, David Archuleta's performance of "My Mama Told Me" last night was one of those where you just go, "Wow, that's it. That boy is going all the way." He has an amazing voice, with a really distinctive husky soulful quality to it, he's got an on-stage presence and charisma that just holds you rapt. And he's got the musicality that the judges are always looking for, the ability to interpret something and make it your own. Plus it doesn't hurt that he's so cute and sweet, the same kind of innocent vulnerability that won people over to Sanjaya last year, except this boy has the voice to go way beyond Sanjaya. So if I had to make a call now, he would be my prediction for the top. He will, however, get a good run for his money from Michael Johns and Jason Castro. And if he can get his confidence back, David Hernandez is very good too. (I loved his "Love The One You're With" last week.) But we may already know who our top three boys are.On the girls' side, the "Wow, that's it!" award goes to Carly Smithson, whose awesome performance grabbed my attention even before I discovered that she had been suffering from the bronchitis bug that was hitting several of the Idol contestants. (It's been going around LA in general, and it's nasty, my husband and I have both been suffering.) If she sings like that when she has the flu -- damn, there's no stopping her. However, she has some fierce competition from Ramiele Malubay (the cute little Asian girl with the unexpected powerhouse voice) and Syesha Mercado (this girl has serious pipes). And close on their high heels are Asia'h Epperson (this girl is a natural performer), Alexandrea Lushington, Brooke White, and Kady Malloy (if she can find her own voice). And I liked Alaina Whitaker too. Hmm, the girls got a real competition on.
It's been quite a week for celestial sightings. On Saturday night, we got a great view of the International Space Station while the space shuttle was docked with it. We were having dinner with our friends the Newtons at 15 (very cool new Echo Park neighborhood restaurant) and we warned our waiter not to be alarmed if all of us jumped up mid-meal and walked out of the restaurant at 6:45pm. We did just that, and even on the sidewalk of a well-lit street in the city, we got a great view as the brilliant spot of light made a majestic 160-degree sweep of the sky in about 6 minutes, going nearly overhead. Kind of like a shooting star, but in slow motion. A few other curious diners stepped out to see what the fuss was about, and were duly impressed.There was supposed to be a reprise on Monday night, and I got a bunch of colleagues at work revved up about it, but alas, the Monday evening skies were completely clouded over, and there was no hope. It reminded me of the one time I saw a solar eclipse, in Hawaii in 1992, or rather I saw the effects of an eclipse. We couldn't actually see the sun itself, as it was completely clouded over. But it did quite impressively grow dark.I was worried that these clouds would hang over and obscure the lunar eclipse that was on for this evening, but today proved the opposite of Monday. The day's clouds gave way to mostly clear skies as the evening stars started showing, and the lunar eclipse was quite impressive, the full moon being in full shadow for about 50 minutes, and passing dramatically in and out of the earth's shadow for a half hour or so on either end.
I taste a little bile every time I hear Hillary Clinton's line about how she'll be "ready on Day One". Those of us who are gay and over 35 should recall all the excitement we felt in 1992 when Bill Clinton promised us that he was going to end the ban on gays in the military with the stroke of a pen on his first day in office. And the subsequent crashing disappointment when we realized he hadn't really thought it through, bungled the politics of it, quickly capitulated the initiative, and ultimately saddled us with the "Don't Ask Don't Tell" compromise. We thought he was our friend, and we were all angry at Sam Nunn at the time. But in retrospect, the reality is that Bill Clinton wasn't really prepared on "day one" to do what needed to be done to fulfill the promise he had made. There are really only two explanations to account for that: he was politically naïve in thinking he could end the ban with the "stroke of a pen", or he wasn't as committed to his promise as we'd like to think.
So, will Hillary Clinton be any more "ready on day one" to move on gay and lesbian issues than was her husband? How serious is she about repealing "Don't Ask Don't Tell"? Sure, when she's addressing a "friendly" audience like the Human Rights Campaign, she's outspoken about how she believes strongly that the time to end the ban is now. And she's always claiming that she knows how to get things done in Washington. Well, before 1993, the ban could have been ended by an executive order. But thanks to Bill, the ban became codified into law, and only Congress can fix it now. There's been a bill introduced in the House called the Military Readiness Enhancement Act, that has 109 co-sponsors, including some Republicans. It's just needed a champion in the Senate. Preferably one sitting on the Senate Armed Services Committee. Like, say, Senator Clinton. In fact, if she was serious about overturning the ban now, she's in the best possible position to do it, and has been for the last seven years. Clinton claims that she strongly believes the ban should be ended now, and that she knows how to get things done in Washington. Clearly, at least one of those claims is false, if not both.
All of the Democratic candidates have made statements to the Human Rights Campaign about their position on Don't Ask Don't Tell, and it's rather telling (as well as ironic) to compare the statements of Clinton and Obama. One of them is full of inspirational talk, and cites a few personal anecdotes, but is otherwise lacking in any hard policy specifics. The other one specifically cites the Military Readiness Enhancement Act, but goes beyond endorsing it to provide a multi-point plan of policy specifics to support the implementation of a repeal, including anti-harassment policies, changed protocols, and the re-accession of those previously separated. Care to guess which was which? Turns out if you want someone who really has the substance, who has thought about what a president specifically would need to do on "day one", that would be Obama.
Last weekend, George and I saw the Israeli film The Band's Visit (Bikur Ha-Tizmoret), and found it a charming film, full of humanity, about a group of Egyptian musicians lost in Israel. The plot is simple: the Alexandria Police Ceremonial Orchestra, a group of eight Egyptians in formal powder blue uniforms, arrives in Israel to perform at the opening of an Arab cultural center. Nobody meets them at the airport as planned, they take the wrong bus, and end up in some remote desert outpost, stranded for the night. The feisty owner of a kebab café decides she'll put some of them up for the night, and she foists the others on some semi-willing regulars in the café. What really makes the movie is the characters that are slowly revealed in the interactions between the stranded band and their hosts. There is the band leader, Lieut-Colonel Tawfiq Zacharya, who is a proud martinet, stiff in the formal decorum he imposes on himself and his band, fretting about the declining respect the band gets from the Police Department (along with threatened budget cuts), but eloquent when he is drawn out, and with some sad secrets in his past. He sparks the interest of the café owner Dina, an impetuous but jaded husky-voiced beauty who's been worn down by bad relationships and her bleak existence. Sasson Gabai and Ronit Elkabetz bring exquisite nuance and eloquence to these roles, and their encounter over the course of the evening is very engaging to watch unfold. Gabai's face is a symphony all its own. Another character, Khaled, the youngest band member and a bit of a cynic and a playboy, not only adds some wonderful comic elements, but also affects Tawfiq in unexpected ways. And Itzik, one of the Israelis who takes home several band members for the night, has a touching exchange with Camal, a clarinetist with his own unfinished symphony. The whole film has an overarching tone of wistful melancholy humanity that reminded me of that endearing 1967 French film The King of Hearts (Le Roi de Coeur). Although the mixture of Egyptians and Israelis could have been a political live wire, writer/director Eran Kolirin masterfully sidelined any politics, keeping the film focused on his characters, and on the situation of strangers from different cultures and different languages discovering their common humanity. The language barrier is ever present in the film, in which the Egyptians speak Arabic amongst themselves, and the Israelis speak Hebrew, but most of the dialog is in unsure accented English, their only common language. (Ironically, the film was disqualified from the foreign film category at the Oscars because too much of it was in English.) Kolirin, who talks in interviews about how all Israelis used to watch Egyptian films in the 1980s, shows an appreciation for Arab music, poetry, and culture throughout the film, and there are a couple of nice scenes where Isaelis ask Egyptians to speak some Arabic just to hear the music of it. And there are moments when music and gestures say more than the characters can find words for. The actors, while not Egyptian, had a bit of their own cultural exchange. Sasson Gabai, though Israeli, was born in Iraq and speaks fluent Arabic. And a couple of Palestinian actors were used in the film, including Saleh Bakri as the playboy Khaled. The film has some wonderful comic scenes -- the band trying to pose for a photograph at the airport, and the playboy Egyptian teaching an inexperienced Israeli boy how to put the moves on a girl -- but the film is overarchingly melancholy rather than funny. The setting is a bleak desert settlement, which underscores the tone. When the band arrives looking for the Arab cultural center, Dina says sardonically "No Arab culture center here. No Israeli culture center here. No culture here." The Israelis may make the desert bloom, but the only thing "blooming" in this particular barren spot is a circle of Soviet-looking high-rise housing projects, with not even so much as a tumbleweed in the way of vegetation. The lives of many of the characters seem almost as bleak as the setting, but the humanity that emerges is as beautiful and unexpected as the famous Israeli blooming deserts.
Political strategy in a two-party system is not hard to figure out. There's a see-saw balanced on a fulcrum in the middle, and whoever piles more weight on their side wins. The single most effective thing you can do is to control the center, and effectively move where the fulcrum is, pushing it toward your opponent and making more of the see-saw on your side. (This is equivalent to the primary rule of tic-tac-toe: whoever captures the center wins.) Once in a while, you can make a play for the extremes, as Karl Rove did, piling as much weight as you can on the extreme edge of your side where you get the most leverage. But that tactic only works if both sides play for the extremes. If one sides plays for the extreme, but the other side goes for the center, the center will always win. It's kind of like a lobsided game of rock-paper-scissors with red, blue, and purple. Red vs blue could go either way, but purple always beats red, and purple always beats blue. The Republicans understand that, which is why McCain is their presumptive nominee. Very few Republicans are excited about McCain, but the GOP tend to be a practical bunch, and they understood that McCain was their best shot at winning this year. In the exit polls in California, where McCain blew away Romney, "electability" was by far the biggest reason that voters gave for voting McCain.
The Republicans have shown "purple", so now it's up to the Democrats. It should be pretty clear to all but the most ideologically blinded that Obama is the Democrats' best shot against McCain. In a Feb 7 Time matchup poll, Obama would beat McCain 48% to 41%, while a Clinton-McCain race was roughly tied at 46%. In a Feb 10 Rasmussen poll, Obama beats McCain 44% to 41%, while Clinton loses to McCain 46% to 43%. A CNN poll had similar findings to the Time poll. In simple terms, Clinton is "blue" and Obama is "purple". Since blue loses to purple, if the Democrats want to beat the Republicans, they need to put up purple.
Obama has made a hugely successful reach for independents and even for some Republicans. Clinton and Obama both have appeal in the Democratic base, but only Obama has the reach for the center. Look at Obama's remarkable success in "red" states. He's been endorsed by Governors Kathleen Sebelius of Kansas, Tim Kaine of Virginia, and Janet Napolitano of Arizona. Obama won southern states Georgia, Alabama, South Carolina and Louisiana by large margins. Those might be dismissed by his strength in the black vote in those states. But what about Obama's wins in Utah (57-39), North Dakota (61-37), Nebraska (68-32), Kansas (74-26), or Idaho (80-17)? Obama has proven an ability to win handily in a cross-section of states including "white red states".
Some Democrats have been thinking that Bush was so despised that there was no way the GOP could win the White House again in November. Those folks need to wake up and smell the coffee. The race is the Democrats to lose, but they could still lose it if they try to put Clinton up against McCain. I worry that the Democrats tend to be more idealistic, and won't recognize the realities of electability the way the less idealistic Republicans do (as evidenced by the way most of them are holding their noses and lining up behind McCain). Fortunately, this evening's news gives me hope that the Democrats may be coming around on that. Maine, whose Democratic population is blue-collar white folk, the demographic that had been Clinton's most solid base, was projected to be Clinton's win. But the results are in, and it's a strong Obama win, 59% to 40%. That gives me hope, and makes me say "yes, we can!"
Mitt Romney dropped out of the race this week after a disappointing Super Tuesday in which he was completely outflanked by McCain and Huckabee. Various post-mortem explanations may be offered, but I think the most significant one is that inauthenticity wasn't playing with the voters this year. And given the way Romney ran, I'm actually glad to see him fail, so that maybe future candidates will not emulate his example. A year ago, I would have given Romney serious consideration -- a guy with a blue-chip business background and impressive executive experience, reasonable and non-wingnutty enough to get himself elected in Massachusetts. But as soon as he started running for president, he basically tried to completely reinvent himself, and run away from his own gubernatorial record. He was desperately trying to claim the mantle of the "true conservative" in the race, and while some may have doubted his conservatism, even more people doubted the "true" part. Mitt Romney the presidential candidate wasn't "true" anything, and the voters could smell it. He started off with his eleventh-hour conversion to pro-life, with lame explanations as to how he suddenly got religion on that issue. That was but the first of a long trail of campaign claims that were constantly being contradicted by those pesky facts from his past. It was as if he had drunk some Jekyll-and-Hyde potion that suddenly transformed a William Weld into a Rush Limbaugh. The truth became so elastic for the "new Mitt Romney" that he even got caught up in silly details, like pandering to the NRA by claiming he was a hunter (when it turned out he was a hunter in the same way my husband is, uh, he had once shot a beebee gun at a skunk that was digging up our lawn), or claiming that he had seen his father march with MLK (the backpedaling on that one involved parsing the word "saw" in ways reminiscent of Bill Clinton testifying about Monica Lewinsky). Some will say he lost votes due to anti-Mormon prejudice, which is true and a shame, but it was his inauthenticity that sunk him. In fact, given his apparent shamelessness in trying to run away from all the rest of his past, I'm surprised he didn't disavow the Mormon church and convert to Baptism. I'm pleased to see that at least for this year, integrity seems to be in fashion. Even though a great deal of Republicans are unhappy with the remaining candidates, both McCain and Huckabee are men of integrity. We know who they are, and they are not hiding who they are. Too bad Mitt didn't take the path of integrity, he may have had a better run.
Sometimes I hear people say, sure, Obama is inspirational, but is there any substance behind the buzz? Absolutely yes, there is. One of the things that impressed me when I read his book The Audacity of Hope was his unique combination of idealism and pragmatism. He is idealistic enough to have hope, and to express his hope contagiously, but he is also pragmatic enough to know how to get things done. I wrote the other night about how he worked for progressive healthcare initiatives in Illinois, using successful strategies borrowed from business process improvement, including working from motivation to consensus, and bringing in all stakeholders. What he did in Illinois was described as a two-pronged approach. On the one prong, he was working with progressive activists to rally popular support around the initiative, which was crucial in motivating his legislative colleagues. On the other prong, he was working with doctors, hospitals, and insurers to reach a workable compromise that address their bottom line issues. What came out in the end still kept the core principles, so the activists were happy, but it was also a workable solution for the institutional stakeholders. Idealism and pragmatism. That's what makes Obama so compelling. Not only does he inspire, but he knows how to get things accomplished in the political arena.
Since being elected to the US Senate in 2004, Obama has been applying his unique brand of pragmatism and transcending partisan lines to accomplish a number of things. In fact those who pay close attention to such things are impressed by how often Obama's name has appeared on legislation as a freshman senator. One of Obama's priorities was the important but unglamorous work of nuclear non-proliferation, specifically securing "loose nukes" in places like former Soviet republics. He knew the guy to work with was Senator Dick Lugar (R-Indiana), a senior and highly respected foreign policy expert who has become an Obama friend and mentor, despite that "aisle" between them. They have served together on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, and co-sponsored the Lugar-Obama bill extending the concept of cooperative threat reduction. Obama also worked with Senator Tom Coburn (R-Oklahoma), one of the Senate's top spending constrainers, to successfully pass the Coburn-Obama Transparency Act, making the government publish on the web detailed accounts of where all the money goes, and "exposing the pork". I should be clear that this bipartisanship on Obama's part is not about "triangulation" and giving up his principles to ingratiate himself with the other party. On the contrary, as blogger ObsidianWings wrote: "This isn't what Obama does. Obama tries to find people, both Democrats and Republicans, who actually care about a particular issue enough to try to get the policy right, and then he works with them. This does not involve compromising on principle. It does, however, involve preferring getting legislation passed to having a spectacular battle."
(That was a great post, if you're detail-oriented and want to read a wonkish account of Obama's accomplishments just in his first years in the Senate.)
On Obama's campaign policy proposals, the charges that he hasn't come forth with details are nonsense, as anyone who cares to peruse his website can see. His proposals are as detailed as Clinton and Edwards on all the major issues, detailed enough that you can see the differences (e.g., Clinton wants universal mandates in healthcare whereas Obama is more pragmatic on that). There's a good summary of his policy proposals in the Harvard Crimson endorsement of him. But in truth, it's not the policy details that distinguish Obama from Clinton, it's the way he would go about getting things done. When it comes to the ability to inspire people around a vision, he has shown himself to be extraordinary. And in the pragmatic ability to bring many stakeholders together and get something done, in a way that constructively reaches across the lines of partisan warfare, he has proven himself uniquely capable. Inspiration and substance. That's Barack Obama.
