The Bounce

Wronging Wainwright

The story on Jerry Wainwright's departure that has been oozing out of the University of Richmond has a bad smell to it. In my book Wainwright is as respected as just about anyone in college basketball today, as far as being a straight shooter goes. He is a class act. Those in the Spiders athletic director's office, and whatever other boosters who are trashing Wainwright following his move to DePaul, are doing injury to their own program.

(Photo credit: F. T. Rea)

Fan District Flashbacks is a new series of single-frame drawings with
captions. This is No.1, it appears in the June issue of SLANT.

Where's Jaws?

by F. T. Rea

It’s summertime and Virginians are entering the troubled waters of a gubernatorial election. How many televised debates will there be? Who is the true tax-cutter? Which campaign will stoop the lowest? Here we go again. As Virginia is the only state to forbid a sitting governor to run for reelection, every four years we elect a new one, whether we want to, or not. Generally, Virginians don’t mind being the only folks to do something, so don‘t expect this to change soon.

And, just as it was four years ago, sharks are biting people, again. Why? Is it a coincidence? What’s to be done? Where’s former Virginia governor James S. “Jaws” Gilmore III when we need him? After all, it was the semi-visionary Jim Gilmore who once launched a commission, a Shark Task Force, to study the peril of shark attacks on Virginians.

That was the late-summer of 2001, in the winding down of Gilmore’s term in office, when his own dismal disapproval ratings were hurting the gubernatorial campaign of his still-loyal sidekick Mark Earley. By the way, the then-candidate for Attorney General, Jerry Kilgore, broke with Gilmore on his by then-unpopular inflexible stand on the car-tax issue.

With the news of a pair of shark attacks off the nearby coast, Gilmore must have thought he heard opportunity knocking on the door. Immediately, the semi-savvy player donned a pith helmet and shark-hunting khaki outfit to strike a pose.

Standing in defiance of an enemy that no one could possibly defend, Gilmore must have imagined his popularity would soon soar again. Note: Washington Business Journal (SEPT. 5, 2001): “In response to the recent shark attacks at Virginia Beach and in North Carolina, Virginia Gov. Jim Gilmore has convened a task force to examine the issue. The shark task force will be headed by Secretary of Natural Resources John Paul Woodley, State Del. Terrie Suit (R-Virginia Beach) and several marine experts... Florida Gov. Jeb Bush recently said that the media attention to the recent spate of attacks is overblown.”

Blithely ignoring the sitting president’s brother, Gilmore likely cocked his pith helmet to one side, to listen to what sounded like, “Knock, knock.”

In 1997 Gilmore had galloped to triumph with his No-More-Car-Tax mantra. Virginians liked his blue collar style. Then, as governor, he stubbornly stayed on that same tired workhorse issue through his four-year term, until it collapsed in a heap in the spring of 2001. Meanwhile, Gilmore’s handling of the Hugh Finn right-to-die-with-dignity case was diabolically clumsy; his handling of the Sally Mann censorship flap at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts was bull-in-a-china-shop clumsy. With some justification Governor Gilmore is remembered for his stubbornness and his awkwardness, rather than his bold Shark Task Force.

“Knock, knock....”

“Who’s there?” Gilmore may have whispered, thinking he heard the shark musical theme from “Jaws” playing in the background.

Earley lost in Virginia, handing the keys to the Governor’s Mansion to Democrat Mark Warner. Gilmore wasn’t National Chairman of the Grand Old Party long enough to do much more than be remembered for being fired, and, of course, denying that he was fired. Note: USA Today (Nov. 30, 2001): “Gilmore resigned, effective in January, saying he wasn't willing to commit to the extensive travel and time away from family required to prepare for the 2002 elections. He leaves after less than a year in office, a period marked by disappointing elections...”

Well, as history unfolded, the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 overshadowed all else in the news for a long time. So, lame duck Gilmore and his Virginia Shark Task Force’s findings were ignored on December 14, 2001. Furthermore, the first sentence of the VSTF report sort of made it unnecessary to read the rest of it. Note: “In more than 390 years since the English settlement of Virginia there had never been a fatal shark attack in Virginia waters until September 1, 2001 when a 10-year old boy named David Peltier was attacked near the Little Island Fishing Pier at Sandbridge...” The report went on to say that sharks usually live in the ocean and every now and then one of them bites a person who is also in the ocean.

But even if Gilmore’s expertise in preventing shark attacks is not much use, there are always more elections to be botched. So, don’t be surprised to see the old shark hunter himself wading in, awkwardly, to drag down yet another fellow Republican’s gubernatorial campaign. If Gilmore’s enthusiasm for candidate Jerry Kilgore turns out to be tepid, remember where you read it first.

Why would Gilmore want to do that? What’s he got against Kilgore? Well, it says here that Gilmore is still unhappy with some Virginia Republicans about some old business. Still, whether he’s got anything specific against Kilgore, or not, may not matter. If Gilmore already senses that Kilgore is going to lose to Tim Kaine -- and at this point that seems to be more likely than not -- the former governor might just see some gain from never having been on the Kilgore bandwagon at all. Especially, if Kilgore loses bad, and, he might.

Later, with Kaine in office, giving the Democrats two consecutive terms, Gilmore might believe he would then be in a better position to run for governor next time around. Yes, I think he means to put on that man-of-adventure khaki outfit, again, and run for governor in 2009.

Soon, late at night, Gilmore may hear a familiar sound. “Knock, knock...”

“Who’s there?” Gilmore might ask.

From the other side of the door the shark music is there, again, but maybe this time there will be more -- a tentative male voice with a somewhat effeminate mountain twang saying, “Candygram.”

-- 30 --

Spoon

It isn't all that often I get to send out a heads-up about a current band. But here's one for Spoon, a stylish Texas outfit I first saw/heard on Austin City Limits about a year ago. Click on this link to listen to an NPR review (that ran on Monday) of Spoon's new album, "Gimme Fiction."

copyright F. T. Rea 2005

Pomp and Circumstances

In the June 8 issue of STYLE Weekly Scott Bass did a fine job of tracing the history of the controversial Virginia Performing Arts Foundation. His piece -- "Pomp and Circumstances: A grand vision. The complicated reality. The untold story of Richmond's performing art center." -- should be read by anyone trying to get their arms around what all the fuss is about.

"The foundation’s problems, however, began long before Wilder took aim. During the past year the arts center project has suffered from a number of strategic missteps, ineffective public relations, and a fund-raising campaign that has been ineffective in both the private and public sectors. Meanwhile, serious questions about the arts center’s future operations remain unanswered."

Click here to view the article.

The Price of Pot Prohibition

Dr. Jeffrey Miron, an economics professor at Harvard, says replacing pot prohibition with a system of taxing and regulating it, in a fashion similar to alcohol, would generate a total of savings and revenue that would fall somewhere between $10 billion and $14 billion per year. Wow!

Now a group of distinguished economists (including Nobel Prize-winner Milton Friedman ) has written an open letter calling upon President Bush to have "...an open and honest debate about marijuana prohibition." The letter adds, "We believe such a debate will favor a regime in which marijuana is legal but taxed and regulated like other goods."

Read the story at prohibitioncosts.org.

"'As Milton Friedman and over 500 economists have now said, it's time for a serious debate about whether marijuana prohibition makes any sense,' said Rob Kampia, executive director of the Marijuana Policy Project in Washington, D.C. 'We know that prohibition hasn't kept marijuana away from kids, since year after year 85 percent of high school seniors tell government survey-takers that marijuana is easy to get. Conservatives, especially, are beginning to ask whether we're getting our money's worth or simply throwing away billions of tax dollars that might be used to protect America from real threats...'"

After 20 Years, Why SLANT?

Time capsule: The hipster staff at Domino's Doghouse
enthusiastically welcomed SLANT to the scene in 1985
(Photo Credit: F. T. Rea)

In SLANT’s first year of existence, 1985, desktop publishing was just catching on. Nintendo entered the home video game market and America Online was founded. Seven New Jersey teens were busted for accessing a Pentagon computer using an ordinary telephone line. Mikhail Gorbachev took the reins of power in the USSR and quickly implemented his “glasnost” policy. France's government finally admitted its intelligence officers actually did sink Greenpeace’s Rainbow Warrior. In Richmond times were changing, too, as the 6th Street Marketplace and The Diamond opened that same year.

The first issue of SLANT was a 16-pager; it cost a quarter. In the 20 years since SLANT has gone through a number of format changes -- from twice-a-week handbill, to monthly tabloid, to weekly newsletter, etc. (And, there was a nearly-eight-year hiatus. After a comeback last year it is now being published on a once-a-month basis.)

SLANT on the masthead said up-front that the material presented would come from a point of view; no tricks would be employed to convince anyone otherwise. My hope was then, and remains today, that a thinking person will see SLANT’s admitted directness, and consider that all reportage ultimately comes from some vantage point. Of course, this doesn’t get into whether the report is fair, or even honest.

Today SLANT remains as independent as it gets. From the start my inspiration came from free thinkers who, in their day, found an original way to have their say. Among others they included: the American pamphleteers of the 1770’s, who fomented revolution; the French artist who used lithography to become the father of modern political cartooning, Honore Daumier (1808-1879); Spanish surrealist filmmaker Luis Bunuel (1900-1983), whose startling films spawned riots in the early 1930s; crusading independent journalist/newsletter publisher I. F. Stone (1907-1989); underground comix artist/publisher R. Crumb, who sold his Zap Comix out of a baby carriage on the streets of San Francisco. (Crumb was born in 1943 and is still alive.)

In its first issue SLANT mocked Richmond’s new 6th Street Marketplace with a cartoon of mine and it featured an essay -- “All Art Becomes Political” -- in which I asserted that art, of any type, regardless of its subject matter, is inevitably classified by viewers/listeners as either supporting the establishment or challenging it. Moreover, same as it ever was, wealthy people know what they like to see, and hear, etc. They encourage what they like and they support artists who cater to that taste.

Therefore, if you see or hear art that has been conveyed to you by way of an expensive process, you should bear in mind that fat cats hired everybody onboard. Of course that rule doesn’t label the art, or the fat cats, as good or bad, right or wrong.

In our modern society art-makers -- whether they draw, write, or make music -- who go against the grain, don’t usually make much money. Today money buys credibility. Like, if you don't have money, what could you know? A person without property is largely ignored, even distrusted.

Sad? Yes. But it's not evil. It's just the way it is. We live within a crowded society that -- for the time being -- trusts its wealthy class and is content with its conformist way of life. History suggests that if times get tougher that will change.

Whatever else it may seem to be, or not, SLANT is not a copycat, and it is locally produced. Ads are laughably cheap. Submissions are always welcome, and sometimes used. Pick up a copy of SLANT, dear reader, because you still can. History suggests that if times get tougher that could change, too.

-- 30 --

The Sound

by F. T. Rea

"In the spring of 1984, I ran for public office. In case the Rea for City Council campaign doesn’t ring a bell, it was a spontaneous and totally independent undertaking. No doubt, it showed. Predictably, I lost, but I’ve never regretted the snap decision to run. The education was quite simply worth the price..."

Click here to read the STYLE Weekly Back Page piece.

The photo is from the 1984 campaign's
launching at the City Library.

Tinted Postcards

VCU's library has a wonderful collection of old postcards featuring 20th century Richmond scenes. Do yourself a favor and click here.

Barbie Goes Local

Visit the River City Rapids to read about a new line of custom Barbies that may soon be on the way to the Richmond market. They include Chesterfield Barbie, Libbie & Grove Barbie, Grace Street Barbie, Hopewell Barbie, Shockoe Bottom Barbie and more.

Warning: if satire upsets you, when it gets too close to home, better skip this one.

SLANT Baseball Stadium Survey

With all the talk about what’s right or wrong about The Diamond, or the proposed new baseball stadium for Shockoe Bottom, I haven’t seen much in the way of a study, scientific or not, to see what baseball fans think of such notions. I'm curious about whether baseball fans -- people who actually go to The Diamond -- think baseball in the Bottom is doable, or not.

Therefore, using the infinite and random potential of the Internet, SLANT is going to try to conduct a study. If you think you have been to at least 10 games at The Diamond in the last five years (an average of twice per season), I hope you will take the time to send me your answers (ftrea9@yahoo.com) to the questions below. Furthermore, I’m also hoping you will feel free to copy, and or forward, this survey form to other fans who go to baseball games in Richmond.

Note: I will not reveal or pass on anyone’s email address. And, your name will not be used in the piece I publish unless you send me a comment, AND give me your permission to use it.

*

1. How many R-Braves games at The Diamond have you attended in the last five years?

A. At least 10 games
B. Between 10 and 25 games
C. Between 25 and 50 games
D. Over 50 games

2. Given your understanding of the proposed new baseball stadium for Shockoe Bottom, what do you think of the plan?

A. It sounds like a great idea to me
B. Good idea, but I’m not so sure about some of the details
C. It may be unnecessary, but I’m not against it
D. It’s an absolutely terrible idea

3. If the R-Braves do leave The Diamond to play on a new field in Shockoe Bottom, what effect would that have on your attendance?

A. I’m sure I would to more R-Braves games
B. I would probably go to about the same number of games
C. I doubt I’d see as many games, but I would not boycott a new stadium
D. I would never go to the Bottom for a baseball game.

4. When the dust all settles where should the Triple A Braves play their home games?
A. Assuming it get fixed up properly, at The Diamond
B. At the new stadium in Shockoe Bottom
C. At a new stadium in a better location than the Bottom
D. In another city.

If you would like to make a comment, feel free to do so. Send your answers/comments to ftrea9@yahoo.com (Photo credit: F. T. Rea)

Downing St. Memo

Michigan Democrat John Conyers, who served on the famous committee that voted to impeach President Richard Nixon in 1974, was elected in 2004 to his 20th term in the House. Using his web site to get signatures on a letter to President George Bush, Conyers is causing a stir with his campaign to pressure today’s sitting president to fess up about his bogus justifications for invading Iraq. To read the letter, the first paragraph of which is below, click on this link.

“We the undersigned write because of our concern regarding recent disclosures of a Downing Street Memo in the London Times, comprising the minutes of a meeting of Prime Minister Tony Blair and his top advisers. These minutes indicate that the United States and Great Britain agreed, by the summer of 2002, to attack Iraq, well before the invasion and before you even sought Congressional authority to engage in military action, and that U.S. officials were deliberately manipulating intelligence to justify the war.”

Wall of Buses

by F. T. Rea

The entire White House grounds and Lafayette Park were surrounded by DeeCee transit system buses, parked snugly end-to-end. Cops in radical-looking riot gear were stationed inside the bus-wall perimeter every few yards. As the gathering Baby Boomers were funneled into the designated demonstration area -- the grassy ellipse south of the White House -- the temperature had already reached the upper 90s before noon that blue-skied Saturday.

On May 9, 1970, the hot still air heightened the mounting sense that anything could happen.

Why not? The previous Monday four students had been shot to death on Kent state's campus during a Vietnam War protest rally. Three days later two more students were killed at Jackson State. Unlike the other large anti-war demonstrations, which were planned for months, this time it all happened spontaneously. Those on-campus killings moved many who had never marched in protest or support of anything before to drop what they were doing and set out for Washington, D.C. to live in the moment.

Some of the more experienced hands had come out prepared with provisions for a long day. Even more had not. Estimates ranged widely but most reports characterized the size of the crowd at well over 100,000. Home-made signs were everywhere, including occasional pro-war placards that denounced the protesters. The smell of pot burning gave the gathering a Rock 'n' Roll festive feel, too, as a series of speakers took turns ranting over the massive sound system of Woodstock proportions.

Behind the podium a black man was lashed Christ-like to a huge cross, perhaps to dramatize to the largely white crowd who was doing most of the dying in Vietnam. As a convoy of military vehicles suddenly drove into the area the crowd booed. When it turned out the troops were bringing in water for the thirsty the booing stopped. Dehydration was a problem.

After the last speaker the police stood by watching thousands of chanting citizens, most of them under 25 -- filled with righteous indignation -- spill out of the park to stretch a line of humanity around the wall of buses. No effort was made to prevent the mob from marching into the streets which had already been blocked off. The march flowed north, then west, from one block to the next. Long lenses peered down from the roofs of those distinctive squat DeeCee buildings downtown.

Untold numbers of fully-outfitted soldiers were crammed into basements, visible in the doorways, awaiting further orders. Until that day's bizarre uncertainty most of them had probably been glad to be anywhere other than Vietnam. A cheer went up from the marchers when a determined kid managed to get on top of a bus to wave a Viet Cong flag.

The cops quickly hauled the flag-waver off but a commotion ensued and the scent of tear gas spiced the air. Hippies who had been wading in a fountain to cool off scaled a statue to get a better look, as I snapped pictures with my new 35mm single lens reflex.

The next day I was back in Richmond for yet another gathering of my generation. Staged in Monroe Park, Cool-Aid Sunday featured live music and various information booths and displays were set up, aimed at helping young people with their troubles. They included the Fan Free Clinic, Jewish Family Services, Rubicon (a dry-out clinic for drug-users), the local Registrar’s office, Planned Parenthood, Crossroads Coffeehouse, etc.

Although it was not a political rally, the crowd assembled in Monroe Park, while smaller, was similar in character to the one in Washington. No one was seriously injured at Saturday’s tense anti-war demonstration. Then, ironically, a 17-year-old boy -- Wilmer Curtis Donivan Jr. -- was killed on Sunday in the park in Richmond when a four-tiered cast iron fountain he had scaled suddenly toppled.

It seems I took no pictures on Sunday, the 10th, but the photograph of Donivan falling to his death that ran on the front page of the Richmond Times-Dispatch on the Monday that followed is one I’ll never forget. No doubt, the momentum from the extraordinary week which preceded that fateful Sunday in Monroe Park was in the air as Donivan opted to climb that old fountain, not unlike other hippies in DeeCee the day before.

It set the scene.

In 1970 the USA was becoming ever more bitterly divided over the Vietnam War, and living in the moment was killing off the young and unlucky wherever they were.

(Photo Credit: F. T. Rea, 1970)

-- 30 --

Bandwagon or Boondoggle?

"...And now I'm back to let you know
I can really shake 'em down"
-- from "Do You Love Me" by Berry Gordy, Jr. (1962)

by F. T. Rea

Have you been Downtown lately? Seen as wallowing in despair only a few years ago, Richmond’s downtown has several major construction projects in various stages of being realized. Mammoth department store Thalhimers, a hub of the retail whirl that dominated that landscape for most of the 20th century, is gone. Most of the failed 6th Street Marketplace -- a bitter symbol of Downtown Richmond’s more recent period of decline, folly and official malfeasance -- has been swept away, too.

A new federal courthouse is being built at 7th and Broad Streets. To the west, the refurbishing of one old theater is underway and three more live-stage venues are slated to be constructed. There’s a plan to convert what was the Miller and Rhoads department store into a hotel. The John Marshall Hotel building is on its way to becoming a luxury apartment complex. Corporate giant Philip Morris is poised to create a $300 million research center a few blocks north of Broad. Looking eastward, with trains chugging through Main Street Station, once again, some see the shoehorning of a new baseball stadium into Shockoe Bottom as doable.

This piece will deal only with Mayor L. Douglas Wilder’s high profile refusal to hop onboard what was once thought to be an unstoppable theater-building bandwagon of the Virginia Performing Arts Foundation.

The VPAF is already in the process of renovating the Carpenter Center (formerly the Loew’s), to the tune of $28 million. The total price tag on the VPAF vision for a spectacular new performing arts center to open in 2007 on the Thalhimers block is $93 million. It calls for building three new stages -- a performance hall, a community playhouse and a jazz club -- on the old Thalhimers site. That figure above doesn’t include what the same outfit wants to spend on renovating three other old theaters -- the National, the Landmark (formerly the Mosque) and the Empire.

As the VPAF plans (see www.vapaf.com) rest heavily on convincing the Commonwealth of Virginia and the City of Richmond to throw large sums into the kitty, elected officials should take an interest in how that nonprofit organization raises and handles money. As well, how wise the VPAF was in developing its original strategy is still a proper matter for them to scrutinize.

Accordingly, Mayor Wilder has asked the VPAF some questions that its president, former adman Brad Armstrong, has done an awkward job of answering. That Armstrong gave the appearance of resenting being asked at all seems odd, even worrisome.

Speaking of being worried, I still wonder how much the VPAF knows about the business side of the performing arts game. The one VPAF official with actual hands-on show biz experience, Joel Katz (formerly the Carpenter Center’s general manager), was fired recently. After the sudden dismissal of Katz is better understood, and it ought to be, someone -- perhaps Hizzoner? -- ought to ask the VPAF just what it actually knows about establishing or operating theaters. Who's left with any industry experience?

Note: I ran a movie theater (the Biograph) for nearly 12 years. Back then, every week, I listened dozens of helpful movie-goers tell me just how to run the place better and, of course, which movies to play. So, I'm familiar with the idea that lots of people imagine they know how to operate a theater without any experience in the entertainment business.

Here are a few more questions: What kind of town has Richmond been, with regard to the business side of entertainment? How well do plays and other touring attractions gross here, as compared to other cities? What do national promoters and movie distributors think of the Richmond market? Since cutting edge, ambitious nightlife venues here have tended to crash and burn in recent decades, what has the VPAF done to understand the whys? How well does it understand why smart private money has avoided building new theaters or night clubs in that same neighborhood for decades? This matters!

There’s a volunteer watchdog organization in town, Save Richmond (see www.saverichmond.com), which asserts that the VPAF all but ignored input from most of the local pros -- the folks who have worked in Richmond’s entertainment industry as the talent, the producers, the bookers, and so forth. If that’s true, it’s not a good sign.

Armstrong’s position that Richmond ought to stay with the original program, even though his organization’s fundraising performance failed to meet its published goals, may have been good enough for those on City Council. But it obviously struck Mayor Wilder as presumptuous.

At this point -- all blue sky stories aside -- doesn’t the VPAF have a fallback plan? Is this really an all-or-nothing situation? Can’t we finish up one theater, fill it up a few times, pay some bills. Then, perhaps, we build a second theater, etc.

The VPAF has done such a poor job of selling this deal to John Q. Public -- who may not easily imagine himself attending an opera or symphony show -- that it’s difficult to weigh what real merit aspects of the plan might have. The concept of establishing a modern theater/night club district in that area, where it thrived 100 years ago, doesn't seem wrongheaded.

However, if you made that same area an enterprise zone where Richmond's stifling seven percent admissions tax wasn't scraped off the top of ticket sold, private money might be easier to find. That tax has played a hidden but significant role in hobbling theaters and clubs for a long time.

A glance at the VPAF’s board, which includes familiar names such as Bliley, Cantor, Markel, Massey, Reynolds, Robins, Rosenthal, Scott, Thalhimer and Ukrop offers some insight as to why Armstrong might think he can trump Wilder's moves. But since the well-heeled arts-lovers who support the VPAF’s four state-of-the-art stages on one block concept don’t seem to want to risk much of their own money, the VPAF still needs a lot of public money -- the voters’ money.

So far, City Council has decided to stay on the build-it-and-they-will-come bandwagon. This bunch doesn’t seem to grasp that with 80 percent of the voters behind him, as long as Wilder successfully positions himself as moving to prevent another 6th Street Marketplace-like boondoggle then his foes' chances in the court of public opinion aren't all that good.

This imbroglio shouldn't be about supporting art, or not, so much as it should be about what constitutes proper planning. If the focus of concern moves from money to bona fide know-how, watch out standing too close to the sputtering VPAF bandwagon. As more fat cats and wannabes jump off of it, one of them might land on you.

-- 30 --

SLANT Interview for April: Tim Kaine

Lt. Gov. Tim Kaine

Gubernatorial hopeful Tim Kaine, 47, grew up in Kansas City. Upon graduating from the University of Missouri, Kaine earned his law degree at Harvard. Note: He took a year off from law school (1980) to work as a Christian missionary in Honduras, where he taught welding and woodworking to underprivileged children. Kaine has lived in Richmond since 1984. Working as an attorney, for his day-job, Kaine served on City Council for seven years; from 1998 - 2001 he was Richmond’s mayor. For six years Kaine taught a course in legal ethics at the University of Richmond’s law school. In 2001, Kaine, a Democrat, was elected Lt. Governor of Virginia. Kaine’s wife, Anne Holton -- the daughter of former Virginia governor Linwood Holton, a Republican -- is a juvenile court judge. Their three children, Nat, Woody, and Annella, attend Richmond’s public schools.

It has been said many times that Virginia’s quirky politics seem rather insulated from national trends. Here’s an example: Through seven election cycles, going back almost 30 years, whichever major party has won the presidency, the following year the other major party has captured the top office in Virginia. All the way back to Democrat Jimmy Carter, elected in 1976, followed by Republican John Dalton in 1977, to George Bush (R) in 2000, followed by Mark Warner (D) in 2001, Virginia’s voters have consistently marched out of step with the nation’s. If this opposites trend continues Tim Kaine will prevail in November.

What follows is a SLANT exclusive: 

SLANT: Given the results of the last seven gubernatorial elections, why have Virginia’s voters been so at odds with the national trends?

Kaine: Virginia voters are not at odds with national trends: They set national trends. Our voters are well-informed people who share strong values and a solid focus on that which will improve their schools, neighborhoods and livelihoods. They demand strong leadership from their elected officials, and they want to know what positive vision candidates offer for the future. Virginia currently has the second fastest job growth rate in the nation and Governing Magazine says Virginia is the best managed state in the country. We have achieved that success by bringing people together to make record investments in our public schools while protecting our business-friendly reputation by salvaging the state’s sterling credit rating. That’s the type of performance Virginia voters expect and deserve.

S: With all the controversy over redistricting we've seen in Virginia, and elsewhere, how would you like to see Virginia's political districts drawn in the future?

K: There are no angels in the redistricting process. Both major political parties in Virginia, and other states, have abused the process to benefit incumbents and dampen competition. By creating the districts as they do, lawmakers give themselves a nearly iron-clad opportunity to retain their seats for as long as they like without the hassle of having to spend time and money on re-election campaigns. But the cost to voters is simply too high. I have long advocated that Virginia follow the lead of other states like Utah who use a non-partisan or bipartisan panel of non-elected experts to draw political maps with an eye toward maximizing competition. Our Commonwealth would benefit greatly from the more vigorous campaigning and greater choices on Election Day that such a system would generate.

S: How will your religious/personal beliefs about the death penalty, abortion and other life-and-death issues come into play -- or not -- if you are elected as Virginia’s next governor?

K: When it comes to the death penalty, I will enforce the law the same way Governors of Virginia have for years. I have a personal, faith-based objection to both abortion and the death penalty. However, I understand what it means to put my hand on a Bible and take an oath of office. I take that oath very seriously, and will uphold the law.

S: Where do you stand on the current proposal, as it has been presented, to build a new baseball park in Shockoe Bottom?

K: There are so many factors that play into the stadium debate including: How much taxpayer money should be used? Where exactly should a new stadium be built? How will it impact the local neighborhood with regards to traffic congestion and impact on historic structures and places? With regard for public financing, I don’t believe taxpayers should be asked to pay any more for a new facility than they would pay for a reasonable renovation for the existing Diamond. And, I believe more questions must be asked and answered before decisions are made on the current proposal.

S: At this point of the 2005 campaign what do you think voters should see as the most important differences separating you from your presumed opponent, Jerry Kilgore?

K: I am a strong leader who is not afraid to make a tough decision. And when you compare Mr. Kilgore and me, you will see that I am the only candidate with experience in small business, and the only candidate with on the job experience dealing with the challenges faced by local government and the General Assembly. I grew up working in my Dad’s small iron welding shop, and I’ve managed a law firm. I am the only candidate who has ever cut taxes. I am the only candidate who has ever put together an economic development deal. I am the only candidate who has a tangible record of fighting crime successfully. And I am the only candidate with a record of bringing people together across lines of race, region and partisan affiliation to get things done.

S: Where is your favorite vista in Richmond, or your favorite place to walk to have a private talk, or to think something over?

K: That’s an easy question. I am happiest when I am on the James River with my family. We spend a lot of time outdoors and particularly enjoy kayaking and rafting. I think the rare opportunity to shoot through Class 5 rapids while in the shadows of downtown’s skyscrapers makes Richmond a unique and special place.

-- 30 --

-- My art

The Second Coming Blues

F. T. Rea

Washing in on what Irish poet William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) might have called a "blood-dimmed tide," the specter of true evil suddenly emerged from the periphery of modern life on one particular morning. Let’s face it, for most of us, before 9/11’s transmogrifying sucker punch the notion of "evil" had a rather Old World air about it.

As the smoke of 9/11 cleared a bitter lesson was being absorbed: No. Evil never went away. It had merely gone out of style in some quarters, as a concept, because times had been so easy for so long. Absolutes had enjoyed no seat at the table of postmodern thinking.

Living in the land of plenty, it had gotten easy to avert our eyes from evil-doings in lands of want; especially doings connected to making life easier for us at someone else’s expense.

If that last sentence was a bummer, sorry, but the gasoline was relatively cheap for a long time, compared to the price in most other places. Speaking of style, little cars and bicycles may be making comebacks soon.

The last American president to get much mileage out of the word evil, itself, had to be Ronald Reagan. His "evil empire" characterization of the USSR and its sphere of influence had punch. Two decades later we have a president who sees an "axis of evil" -- an alleged phenomenon that puzzles most of the world’s leaders, or so they say.

President George W. Bush apparently has had little use for President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s stalwart advice to a shaken nation then-needing a boost in confidence -- "We have nothing to fear but fear itself." Rather than urge his people to rise above their fears, Bush has chosen to color-code it.

Moreover, the Neocons around Bush have been asking us to accept the architects of 9/11 as the most evil cats, ever. Like, Osama bin Laden has made Joseph Stalin, Adolph Hitler, Idi Amin and Pol Pot look like amateurs.

Whether evil exists in some pure form, off in another dimension, is not my department. What’s known here is that in the real world evil is contagious. Lurking in well-appointed rooms or hiding in caves, evil remains as it ever was -- ready to spread, ready to use whatever grudges are in the air.

Then again, evil, like beauty, has always been in the eye of the beholder. Generally, Americans used to believe torture was beyond the pale. Now, we hear our government officials defending its proper use in prosecuting the War on Terror.

So, evil needs a context to be measured. OK. In the 1970s wasn’t it evil to deliberately dump tons of potent pesticide into the James River to make a greedy buck? Yet, once they got caught, the Hopewell businessmen who did it only received slaps on the wrists. Once it was in Virginia’s water, it turned out Kepone wasn’t much different from a bio-terror agent in the same water.

Evil?

With the news that has seeped out of the cloisters about child-molesting priests and the Catholic Church’s systematic cover-ups, whose betrayal was more evil, the molesters, themselves, or the higher-ups who hid and facilitated heinous crimes that we know full-well act as poison in our society?

Today’s evil is the same as our forefathers faced in their wars and in their neighborhoods. Evil hasn’t really changed, but technology has. With modern machines and chemicals in their hands the fanatics of the world have the potential to wreak havoc like never before. What’s changed is the extent to which the bloodlust of the world’s payback artists and would-be poobahs can be weaponized.

It’s worth noting the weapons that are scaring us the most now were developed during the arms-race days of the Cold War by the game’s principal players.

So another question arises, who’s more dangerous to civilization in the long run, the schmucks who spent their treasure to weaponize germs, or the schmucks who want to steal the same germs and do you know what? Decades ago this same scenario was worried over by some in the disarmament movement. Its scary list of what-ifs always included the likelihood that the so-called super powers would eventually lose track of a few of their exotic weapons.

Meanwhile, America is still very much a first-world land. And, many Americans are still averting their eyes from righteous grievances in third-world lands.

No doubt, the poet’s "slouching" monster in the desert is traveling on the back of technology of our own making. It is probably feeding on the pollution we’re dumping into the environment. Not to worry, while crackpots the likes of me sing the blues, the official fear color is still set at yellow.

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Cool's Stretch

by F. T. Rea

The prototype was assembled during a lull in seventh grade shop class. After tying some 15 rubber bands together to make a chain a collaborator held one end of the contraption, as I stepped back to stretch it out for a test. Squinting to sight along the taut line to take aim, finally, I let go. The whole thing gathered itself and shot past the holder.

The released tip smartly struck a target several feet beyond the holder. While the satisfaction I felt was a rush, the encouragement from the boys who witnessed that launching felt transforming. Through a pleasant sequence of trial-and-error experiments, it was determined how to best maximize distance and accuracy. Once guys across the room were getting popped with the bitter end of my brainchild -- dubbed the Stretch -- the spitballs that routinely flew around classrooms in 1960 at Albert H. Hill junior high were strictly old news.

The following morning, uncharacteristically, I appeared on the schoolyard an hour before the first bell. Inside a brown paper bag I had with me an updated version of the previous day’s invention. It was some 60 links long -- the Big Stretch.

Soon boys were shoving one another aside just to act as holders. Most of the time I did the shooting. Occasionally, one of the guys from my inner circle was permitted to be the shooter. As the wonder whizzed by it made such a splendid noise that just standing close by the holder was a thrill, too. On the asphalt playground behind the yellow brick school building an enthusiastic throng cheered each flight.

The Big Stretch went on to make an appearance at an afternoon football game, where its operators established to the delight of the audience that cheerleaders could be zapped on their bouncing butts with impunity from more than 25 yards away. After a couple of days of demonstrations around the neighborhood and at Willow Lawn shopping center, again, I significantly lengthened the chain of rubber bands.

But the new version -- about 100 rubber bands long -- proved too heavy for its own good. It was not as accurate or powerful as the previous model. Then came the morning a couple of beefy ninth-grade football players weren’t content with taking a single turn with the new Big Stretch. Although there was a line behind them they demanded another go.

Surrounded by devotees of the Big Stretch, I stood my ground and refused. But my entourage -- mostly fair weather friends -- was useless in a pinch. Faced with no good options, I fled with my claim-to-fame in hand. In short order I was cornered and pounded until the determined thieves got the loot they wanted. They fooled around for a while trying to hit their buddies with it. Eventually, several rubber bands broke and the Big Stretch was literally pulled to pieces and scattered.

By then my nose had stopped bleeding, so, I gathered my dignity and shrugged off the whole affair, as best I could. I didn’t choose to make another version of the Big Stretch. A few other kids copied it, but nobody seemed to care. Just as abruptly as it gotten underway, the connected-rubber-band craze ran out of gas. It was over.

At that time the slang meaning of "cool" had an underground cachet which has been stretched out of shape since. We’re told the concept of cool, and the term itself, seeped out of the early bebop scene in Manhattan in the ‘40s. That may be, but to me the same delightful sense of spontaneity and understated defiance seems abundantly evident in forms of expression that predate the Dizzy Gillespie/Thelonious Monk era at Minton’s, on 118th Street.

Wasn’t that Round Table scene at the Algonquin Hotel, back in the ‘20s, something akin to cool? If Dorothy Parker wasn’t cool, who the hell was? And, in the decades that preceded the advent of bebop jazz, surely modern art -- with its cubism, surrealism, constructivism, and so forth -- was laying down some of the rules for what became known as cool.

Cool’s zenith had probably been passed by the time I became enamored with the Beats, via national magazines. Widespread exposure and cool were more or less incompatible. Significantly, cool -- with its ability to be flippant and profound in the same gesture -- rose and fell without the encouragement of the ruling class. Underdogs invented cool out of thin air. It was a style that was beyond what money could buy.

The artful grasping of a moment’s unique truth was cool. However, just as the one-time-only perfect notes blown in a jam session can’t be duplicated, authentic cool was difficult to harness; even more difficult to mass-produce.

By the ‘70s, the mobs of hippies attuned to stadium Rock ‘n’ Roll shrugged nothing off. Cool was probably too subtle for them to appreciate. The Disco craze ignored cool. Punk Rockers searched for it in all the wrong places, then caught a buzz and gave up.

Eventually, in targeting self-absorbed baby boomers as a market, Madison Avenue promoted everything under the sun -- including schmaltz, and worse -- as cool. The expression subsequently lost its moorings and dissolved into the soup of mainstream vernacular. Time tends to stretch slang expressions thin as they are assimilated; pronunciations and definitions come and go. Now people say, "ku-ul," simply to express ordinary approval of routine things.

The process of becoming cool, then popular, pulled the Big Stretch to pieces. Once the experimental aspect of it was over it got to be just another showoff gimmick, which was less-than-cool, even to seventh-graders in the know.

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