CollegeInsider.com provides us with its Dec. 18th Mid-Major Top 25 men’s basketball poll, which includes four teams from the Colonial Athletic Association (in bold).
1. Wichita State (also No. 8, AP poll)
2. Butler (also No. 16, AP poll)
3. Missouri State
4. Gonzaga (also No. 24, AP poll)
5. Southern Illinois
6. Marist
7. Winthrop
8. Western Kentucky
9. Akron
10. Loyola (Chicago)
11. Northern Iowa
12. Drexel
13. Old Dominion
14. Hofstra
15. Creighton
16. UC Santa Barbara
17. Davidson
18. Holy Cross
19. Santa Clara
20. North Dakota State
21. Cal State Fullerton
22. VCU
23. San Diego
24. North Texas
25. Southern Utah
Since 1985, in various formats, SLANT -- an independent voice based in the heart of Richmond, Virginia -- has offered its readers original commentary on politics and popular culture. Warning: Occasionally, that means wiseass cartoons and satirical content. Naturally, all rights are reserved.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Goode Grief!
Rep. Virgil Goode has drawn the attention of Virginia’s blogosphere once again. This time it’s not for his scandalous connection to tainted MZM money. Now it seems Goode has gone off on a strange tangent of religious/cultural intolerance that threatens to rival fellow Republican Sen. George Allen’s infamous Macaca Gaffe in its raw potential to make reasonable people on both sides of the aisle shake their heads in bewilderment.
Among Goode’s words in a letter he sent to some number of his 5th Congressional District constituents last week were these:
“When I raise my hand to take the oath on Swearing In Day, I will have the Bible in my other hand. I do not subscribe to using the Koran in any way. The Muslim Representative from Minnesota was elected by the voters of that district and if American citizens don’t wake up and adopt the Virgil Goode position on immigration there will likely be many more Muslims elected to office and demanding the use of the Koran...”
Huh?
Two Virginia political blogs are all over this oddball story, so rather than pile on here at SLANTblog I hope the reader will follow the links provided to their posts and the lively discussions they have underway at their blogs. First there is Waldo Jaquith’s post “Goode makes complete ass of self.” Then there is Kenton Ngo’s post “I have no business shoving religion into politics, and neither do you” at his 750 Voltz.
Among Goode’s words in a letter he sent to some number of his 5th Congressional District constituents last week were these:
“When I raise my hand to take the oath on Swearing In Day, I will have the Bible in my other hand. I do not subscribe to using the Koran in any way. The Muslim Representative from Minnesota was elected by the voters of that district and if American citizens don’t wake up and adopt the Virgil Goode position on immigration there will likely be many more Muslims elected to office and demanding the use of the Koran...”
Huh?
Two Virginia political blogs are all over this oddball story, so rather than pile on here at SLANTblog I hope the reader will follow the links provided to their posts and the lively discussions they have underway at their blogs. First there is Waldo Jaquith’s post “Goode makes complete ass of self.” Then there is Kenton Ngo’s post “I have no business shoving religion into politics, and neither do you” at his 750 Voltz.
The Storm and the Sunlit Painted Ladies
Ed Note: As a blogger, a self-publishing writer/editor, I have covered many stories in 2006 in my own peculiar way. Politically, it has been a fascinating year in which Virginia’s bloggers played a role in bringing about change. So, naturally, I wrote thousands of words about Jim Webb, George Allen, war and peace, Dick Cheney’s “peppering” of his hunting partner, Harry Whittington, and so forth.
This is the season during which some of us reflect and compulsively make lists of the best, worst, least and most of the year about to end. Surely, the most important story I’ve written about extensively in this space -- in terms of how many people it will impact -- was the emergence of Senator-elect Jim Webb as a new political force. But that’s not the story I thought about the most. It’s not even close.
A local story dominated my year like no story ever has before -- the murders of a family of four, the Harveys. It broke with the new year and fractured the weeks to come into shards of desperate time for lots of people in Richmond that I care about.
My posts on this tragedy and its aftermath were read by locals and expatriates who became a community that shared a feeling about a profound loss. Some in that community came to feel more deeply about their loss, and each other, than they ever knew they could.
by F. T. Rea
Severe storms appear, darkening the sky. They blow through town, bending, soaking and breaking what they will. Then they’re gone. Each time the landscape is changed, sometimes a lot. When a storm causes profound change it’s called a “disaster.”
Those of us who are the detached dreamers, the compulsive analyzers, we then try to understand the changes wrought by nature’s whim. After all, we know we can never understand the storms, much less the reasons for natural disasters.
On January 1, 2006 a man-made disaster shook the part of the world I know best. The news that the Harvey family -- Bryan, Kathy, Stella and Ruby -- had been murdered in their home hit this scribe with the fury of a tornado. Because the family was well known, particularly in the part of town which surrounds Virginia Commonwealth University, I was not alone.
The crushing news came to me on the morning of Jan. 2, by telephone, from my daughter. Her memory of Bryan went back to his days in one of the Fan District’s most popular bands in the early 1980s, the Dads. She, like so many young mothers had taken her two children to Kathy’s delightful toy store in Carytown, the World of Mirth, too many times to count.
Today I remember little from our conversation, except that we seemed to be drawing some comfort from one another’s voices at the other end of the telephone line. The connection made the outrage and panic more bearable. We were not alone. Subsequently, I began pouring my time into making a web site I edit, SLANTblog, into a kiosk for those who cared about the Harveys. The pell-mell pace of the week that followed was surreal. I’m a writer, so I wrote to keep my wits.
Below are excerpts from SLANTblog’s series of posts on this disaster, which were aimed at serving that narrow community of readers that clung together though the worst storm many of them had ever endured.
Jan. 2: Family Found Murdered
In a quiet Southside neighborhood near the river, as well as Carytown’s business district and the greater Richmond pop music scene, the worst of news spread on the first day of 2006 -- a family of four brutally murdered. The Richmond Times-Dispatch reports what is known at this writing (the morning of Jan. 2) about the mind-boggling story of the Harveys, parents and two daughters -- as attractive and well-liked a family as one can imagine -- being found dead in their home yesterday afternoon.
Bryan Harvey in the days of The Dads
However, I liked their two-man act right away and went on to do what I could to encourage/support what they were doing. All that existed in a time in which you probably have to be over 40 now to remember. Hell, some of us are pushing 60, these days.
Thinking of those two guys, stubbornly resisting everyone who told them to get a third player -- because a duo can’t be a band! -- takes me back to that rambunctious time on West Grace Street, when it was the main strip for live music and nightlife in Richmond. In the early- to mid-80s the Shockoe Bottom club scene was still in its formative stages.
The Dads, Throttle, Michel’s, Benny’s, Orthotonics, Hard Times, The Bowties, Beex, The Village, Offenders, Megatonz, Chuck Wrenn, The Pass, Death Piggy, Millionaires, R.A.W., Red Cross, Prevaricators, Casablanca, Rockitz, Barriers, Shake & the Drakes, Main Street Grill, Grace Place, New Horizons, Chelf’s, Biograph Theatre, The Insinuations, I Remember Reality Review, Plan 9, Bopcats, Good Humor Band, Single Bullet Theory, Shafer Court, The Pass, Lamour, 1708, The Clubhouse, Domino’s Doghouse, Faded Rose, J.W. Rayle, Toronados, Insect Surfers, Soble’s, Gatsby’s, X-Dux, Tom and Marty Band, Boys and Girls Grow Up, Cha Cha Palace, The Good Guys, Texas-Wisconsin Border Cafe, The Rage, The Jade Elephant, Hababas, The Back Door, Non Dairy Screamers, Color Radio, Floodzone, Joe Sheets, Don’ Ax Me... Bitch!, Page Wilson, “Z,” Steve Payne, AAE, The Copa, Rick Stanley, Bruce Olsen, 353-ROCK, House of Freaks...
Jan. 3: Harvey Ceremony
The service for the Harvey family at the Unitarian Church tonight seemed to help many of those who attended -- strength in numbers. The mood of the ceremony itself was understated. There was no music. That will come later. And, when it does, I’ll be there, come hell or high water.
Many of the faces in the overflow crowd were familiar, the local arts/music community was well represented. There were tears and hugs aplenty. After the simple ceremony a candlelight vigil was held outdoors, behind the church. Some testified through sobs, most just stood and felt the vibe. I was surprised somewhat that the television crews actually showed restraint -- no bright lights or microphones in peoples’ faces until it was over.
Who can remember a blow to this city’s collective psyche as bitter and difficult to grasp as this?
As for me, I went to the memorial service with my daughter, Katey, who grew up in the Fan District, her husband Brian and their two children, Emily, 9, and Sam, 7, who both go to school at Fox.
Now I’m so glad we went as a family and had dinner together later. Emily and Sam are doing OK. I hope Stella Harvey’s other schoolmates are taking it as well. Like so many other children familiar with Carytown, the funhouse mirror in front World of Mirth, Kathryn Harvey’s shop, is a playful memory my grandchildren will probably carry with them forever.
Jan. 6: World of Loss, Grieving and Tribute
The growing display in front of Carytown’s World of Mirth is something to see. To remember the slain Harvey family -- parents: Bryan and Kathy, daughters: Stella and Ruby -- toys, flowers, notes, candles, and all sorts of things have been left off on the sidewalk in front of Kathy’s shop.
There’s a large board for people to leave off their written comments. So much of the stuff there was obviously put out by children. Even as still more brutal, hair-raising details about the crime scene itself emerge, the tenderness of what’s on that city sidewalk is palpable.
Jan. 7: Right; Rite; Write...
Walking home from the bar the air was seasonally crisp. Back inside the place I had found myself explaining to a good friend, who was a little worried about me, just what I’ve been doing for the last five days -- functioning as a self-appointed, round-the-clock editor of what is the most terrifying/compelling story I’ve been close to in my life -- the Harvey murders.
But why? Maybe, my friend suggested, some in their grief could resent what they see as my using or even magnifying the tragedy. OK. My sobering walk’s thoughts on that topic have been gathered, here they are:
What I’ve been doing with my series of posts on SLANTblog is trying to present a restrained version of this story, with background, useful to people I care about. That, while I’ve been trying to keep my wits about me. I've suddenly broken down in tears every day, absorbing the dreadful details of the story as they came out. I've tried to avoid the gossip. Work has been my only balm.
It’s this way -- newspapers do their job, their way. Likewise the local broadcasters. They all have their intentions, as do the pushy national media types who've been roaming about the Fan District today. And, I have mine. Every publisher is obliged to define and perform for a specific audience. Each has his agenda.
My aim, however, has been to be useful to a smaller audience -- people who knew and cared about the Harveys. The little Fan District-centered world I know best is changing as I write these words. We won’t be the same again. This bizarre grief spell is unprecedented. Those who understand what I mean with that -- you are my audience, wherever you are as you read this.
We are, for a time, a community. This is our Kennedy assassination. This nightmare is our 9/11. Our Katrina.
The fog of pain in the air I’ve been breathing is the collective pain felt by decades of associations -- many longtime friends, people I’ve worked and partied with, people I’ve insulted, people I’ve schemed with, people I’ve played sports with, people I’ve helped and people who’ve helped me, people who’ve created a generation’s music and danced to it. Then there are our community’s children; my granddaughter, as was little lost Stella, is a nine-year-old at Fox Elementary.
As a pair, Bryan and Kathy Harvey were naturally cool and talented in ways few people are. He was a gifted musician/songwriter. He had a style that was risky, yet easy to like. As an artist, he was respected because he went his own way, rather that try to ride some artificial wave. In her professional realm, she was also an innovator, a trend-setter. She didn’t much need someone else to tell her where the boundaries were to do with style and aesthetics. Within a copycat world of retailing cookie cutters, she fashioned a World of Mirth.
They had two beautiful daughters, whose horrific deaths will haunt us forever as our ultimate standard for evil. No, we weren’t prepared to accept such a level of depravity existed in our midst. We pray our cops can soon deliver genuine relief.
...Soon, it will give me great pleasure to use SLANTblog to spread the word on what gets going to establish fitting remembrances to a family that represented the best in us: Four beings I’ve chosen to believe remained brave and felt the vibe of one another’s love to the very end.
Jan. 9: Picking up the pieces
Sunday morning I woke up still exhausted. Six whole days and nights of jolting aftershocks, which seemed to be shaking to pieces what matters most, wore this grizzled scribbler out. With the arrests in Philadelphia of two men, defendant No. 1 and defendant No. 2 (there names will not appear in any of my reports), an anxious Richmond, Virginia now prays for calm.
...Hopefully, these arrests will stick and reduce the flow of ghoulish gossip-mongering that’s been rampant. At the same time let's have the unvarnished truth from our police department and news agencies, ASAP. Let’s hear the worst of it, and get it over with.
Since we learned of the Jan. 1 Harvey murders we have been breathing shallowly, caught in the grip of fear. Guessed-at reasons for the Harveys to have been selected for slaughter dominated too many conversations, as if that’s what mattered most. Now it appears the dark speculations about how the crime had to have been personal, and thus had to have been committed by psychotic fiends who knew them, was mostly a matter of too many of us playing “profiler,” trying to make sense out of the senseless.
Those who knew Byran best for his much-admired music, figured it had to be about that. His song lyrics were mined for clues; old events and connections were revisited. Others closer to Kathy feared it had to do with her life as a prominent Carytown merchant. The couple's Woodland Heights neighbors surely suspected the bloodletting had to do with the neighborhood.
Thus, everyone saw the crime scene itself through their own prism. Which means, of course, the terrified children at Stella’s and Ruby’s schools must have thought it was about their little world.
Now, we’re told the Harveys may indeed have been picked at random. OK. Is that worse that our squirming-toad-imaginations conjured up, or not? Does it matter?
...It won’t surprise me if we eventually learn the Harveys weren’t picked totally at random, either, or that there’s more to come out. Perhaps these murders were something like the Clutter family's killings in Capote’s “In Cold Blood,” in that the crime started out as a robbery of people thought to be rich, but that easy motive was an excuse to do more. Or not. Maybe we’ll never know why.
After all, should we ever believe anything the sub-human culprits tell us? Hell, they may be so wicked they don’t really know why they did it, except it was a thrill.
In the crucible of this shared ordeal for the community grieving the painful loss of the Harveys a truth more important than base motives is being forged: We know much, much better than before that we absolutely cherish our ordinary lives, just as they are -- our children, our friends, our history together and our community.
There were 1,399 of us at the Byrd Theatre yesterday afternoon for the memorial ceremony. Let me tell you, being in that room was a powerful experience. We were told by speakers to “remember the Harveys well,” by remembering them as who they were -- generous, talented people who gladly took the risks to make us dance and laugh...
Jan. 10: Harvey Memorial Fund Established
At the request of family and friends, The Community Foundation Serving Richmond and Central Virginia (Tax ID# 23-7009135) has created the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment.
The Fund is established in memory of Bryan, Kathryn, Stella and Ruby Harvey and will be advised by a committee of their family and friends. Bryan and Kathryn shared a love of music and art, and they were known to their family and friends as kind and generous people. Thus, it is appropriate that the purpose of the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment is to provide music, visual art and performing arts enrichment in the Richmond area, which may include but is not limited to educational scholarships.
April 28: Harvey 50th Well Done
The Bryan Harvey 50th birthday party at Plan 9 was exactly what I thought/hoped it would be. It was absolutely upbeat, even light-hearted. If there was any weeping, well, I missed it. Good. One more sign that life really does go on, no matter what.
Still, remembering is important. Tonight, it was music that was remembered, and presented well by Bryan's longtime friends, who happen to be top shelf musicians. I needed to go to this oddly sweet happening tonight, staged to spotlight the Bryan Harvey CD. I needed to see that crowd back on its feet, after having been shattered by the events of the first week of 2006. It did me good to be there, and I'm sure others felt the same way...
June 15: Remembering the Sunlit Painted Ladies
A soccer ball rolled toward the fence ... a boy running away from it, toward the school building ... it was almost 2 p.m. The running boy was being called to join his classmates. The students, faculty and the school’s can-do PTA were all assembling on the front steps.
At William F. Fox Elementary School a garden graced with sculpture created by the community mentioned above was dedicated. The songs sung by the children were poignant. At the end butterflies were released into the perfect sunlit sky; Painted Lady butterflies according to rising second-grader Sam Knox.
The children were fine. Those adults who wept stayed in the shadows, if they could, during the brave celebration. Most of the grownups were fine, too, familiar faces smiling. The Harvey Family Memorial Garden was dedicated.
Aug. 23: The trial is over
The trial is over. The murderer has been sentenced to die for killing the children, Stella and Ruby Harvey. While others applaud the just sentence and find in it triumph, or find an opportunity to make some political point, I’ll pass on both accounts.
Today, I’m glad the ordeal of the trial is behind us. While some seem fascinated with the depravity of the wicked culprit’s deeds, I’ll not write his name in this space; I don’t use his name in conversation.
Today, I’m glad the evidence from the trial will now be packed up and no one who loved the lost Harvey family will ever have to look at any of it again. Closure? I’ll pass on using that word to define the moment, too. It’s a word I find to be utterly useless in a situation such as this. Furthermore, I won’t let the media, or anyone who thinks they know best, tell me how to view the crime, or its aftermath...
Dec 19: Ruby's Run raises $6,000
The Richmond Times-Dispatch has a follow-up item about the Ruby’s Run fundraising event that was held in Byrd Park on Nov. 4th:
“Ruby Harvey’s memory lives on at her preschool. A check for approximately $6,000, raised during the Ruby Harvey Memorial Children’s Run last month on the Carillon Grounds, will be presented today during a ceremony at Second Presbyterian Church, 5 N. Fifth St. The money will go into a scholarship fund bearing Ruby’s name at the church’s child-care center, where Ruby was a student.”
This morning, a little girl named Bella, who was Ruby’s best friend at kindergarten, accepted the check for the fundraiser’s proceeds on behalf of the child-care center.
Ed Note: A little bit of cosmetic editing was done to some of these excerpts for the sake of clarity. To read any of the posts above in their entirety, as they originally appeared, click here to go to the archives for the whole series of posts, which runs from Jan. 2 through Dec. 19. That archives page also contains many links to related material on other web sites.
This is the season during which some of us reflect and compulsively make lists of the best, worst, least and most of the year about to end. Surely, the most important story I’ve written about extensively in this space -- in terms of how many people it will impact -- was the emergence of Senator-elect Jim Webb as a new political force. But that’s not the story I thought about the most. It’s not even close.
A local story dominated my year like no story ever has before -- the murders of a family of four, the Harveys. It broke with the new year and fractured the weeks to come into shards of desperate time for lots of people in Richmond that I care about.
My posts on this tragedy and its aftermath were read by locals and expatriates who became a community that shared a feeling about a profound loss. Some in that community came to feel more deeply about their loss, and each other, than they ever knew they could.
What follows is a compilation of SLANTblog’s coverage of the impact the deaths of the much-beloved family of four had on a community ... a look back at the darkest of days, which eventually -- as they must -- gave way to bright blue skies.
The Storm and the Sunlit Painted Ladies
The Storm and the Sunlit Painted Ladies
Severe storms appear, darkening the sky. They blow through town, bending, soaking and breaking what they will. Then they’re gone. Each time the landscape is changed, sometimes a lot. When a storm causes profound change it’s called a “disaster.”
Those of us who are the detached dreamers, the compulsive analyzers, we then try to understand the changes wrought by nature’s whim. After all, we know we can never understand the storms, much less the reasons for natural disasters.
On January 1, 2006 a man-made disaster shook the part of the world I know best. The news that the Harvey family -- Bryan, Kathy, Stella and Ruby -- had been murdered in their home hit this scribe with the fury of a tornado. Because the family was well known, particularly in the part of town which surrounds Virginia Commonwealth University, I was not alone.
The crushing news came to me on the morning of Jan. 2, by telephone, from my daughter. Her memory of Bryan went back to his days in one of the Fan District’s most popular bands in the early 1980s, the Dads. She, like so many young mothers had taken her two children to Kathy’s delightful toy store in Carytown, the World of Mirth, too many times to count.
Today I remember little from our conversation, except that we seemed to be drawing some comfort from one another’s voices at the other end of the telephone line. The connection made the outrage and panic more bearable. We were not alone. Subsequently, I began pouring my time into making a web site I edit, SLANTblog, into a kiosk for those who cared about the Harveys. The pell-mell pace of the week that followed was surreal. I’m a writer, so I wrote to keep my wits.
Below are excerpts from SLANTblog’s series of posts on this disaster, which were aimed at serving that narrow community of readers that clung together though the worst storm many of them had ever endured.
*
Jan. 2: Family Found Murdered
In a quiet Southside neighborhood near the river, as well as Carytown’s business district and the greater Richmond pop music scene, the worst of news spread on the first day of 2006 -- a family of four brutally murdered. The Richmond Times-Dispatch reports what is known at this writing (the morning of Jan. 2) about the mind-boggling story of the Harveys, parents and two daughters -- as attractive and well-liked a family as one can imagine -- being found dead in their home yesterday afternoon.
A well-known Richmond couple and their two young daughters were found bound with their throats cut yesterday afternoon in the basement of their South Richmond home. Richmond firefighters made the discovery about 1:45 p.m. after responding to a 911 call reporting a fire at the home of Bryan and Kathryn Harvey at 812 W. 31st St. in the Woodland Heights neighborhood. Investigators said the family members had invited friends for a New Year's Day chili party that was to start about 2 [p.m.].Jan. 3: House of Freaks
It was in 1986 at the Jade Elephant that I first saw and heard what became the House of Freaks. At that time I already knew both Bryan Harvey and Johnny Hott, from their previous musical endeavors. SLANT was then a handbill-style periodical, in the midst of fighting the City’s anti-handbill laws. The Jade was one of SLANT’s early advertisers, so I ran ads for the bar touting “Bryan and Johnny live at the Jade,” or something like that. The name House of Freaks came later.
Bryan Harvey in the days of The Dads Thinking of those two guys, stubbornly resisting everyone who told them to get a third player -- because a duo can’t be a band! -- takes me back to that rambunctious time on West Grace Street, when it was the main strip for live music and nightlife in Richmond. In the early- to mid-80s the Shockoe Bottom club scene was still in its formative stages.
The Dads, Throttle, Michel’s, Benny’s, Orthotonics, Hard Times, The Bowties, Beex, The Village, Offenders, Megatonz, Chuck Wrenn, The Pass, Death Piggy, Millionaires, R.A.W., Red Cross, Prevaricators, Casablanca, Rockitz, Barriers, Shake & the Drakes, Main Street Grill, Grace Place, New Horizons, Chelf’s, Biograph Theatre, The Insinuations, I Remember Reality Review, Plan 9, Bopcats, Good Humor Band, Single Bullet Theory, Shafer Court, The Pass, Lamour, 1708, The Clubhouse, Domino’s Doghouse, Faded Rose, J.W. Rayle, Toronados, Insect Surfers, Soble’s, Gatsby’s, X-Dux, Tom and Marty Band, Boys and Girls Grow Up, Cha Cha Palace, The Good Guys, Texas-Wisconsin Border Cafe, The Rage, The Jade Elephant, Hababas, The Back Door, Non Dairy Screamers, Color Radio, Floodzone, Joe Sheets, Don’ Ax Me... Bitch!, Page Wilson, “Z,” Steve Payne, AAE, The Copa, Rick Stanley, Bruce Olsen, 353-ROCK, House of Freaks...
Jan. 3: Harvey Ceremony
The service for the Harvey family at the Unitarian Church tonight seemed to help many of those who attended -- strength in numbers. The mood of the ceremony itself was understated. There was no music. That will come later. And, when it does, I’ll be there, come hell or high water.
Many of the faces in the overflow crowd were familiar, the local arts/music community was well represented. There were tears and hugs aplenty. After the simple ceremony a candlelight vigil was held outdoors, behind the church. Some testified through sobs, most just stood and felt the vibe. I was surprised somewhat that the television crews actually showed restraint -- no bright lights or microphones in peoples’ faces until it was over.
Who can remember a blow to this city’s collective psyche as bitter and difficult to grasp as this?
As for me, I went to the memorial service with my daughter, Katey, who grew up in the Fan District, her husband Brian and their two children, Emily, 9, and Sam, 7, who both go to school at Fox.
Now I’m so glad we went as a family and had dinner together later. Emily and Sam are doing OK. I hope Stella Harvey’s other schoolmates are taking it as well. Like so many other children familiar with Carytown, the funhouse mirror in front World of Mirth, Kathryn Harvey’s shop, is a playful memory my grandchildren will probably carry with them forever.
Jan. 6: World of Loss, Grieving and Tribute
The growing display in front of Carytown’s World of Mirth is something to see. To remember the slain Harvey family -- parents: Bryan and Kathy, daughters: Stella and Ruby -- toys, flowers, notes, candles, and all sorts of things have been left off on the sidewalk in front of Kathy’s shop.
There’s a large board for people to leave off their written comments. So much of the stuff there was obviously put out by children. Even as still more brutal, hair-raising details about the crime scene itself emerge, the tenderness of what’s on that city sidewalk is palpable.Jan. 7: Right; Rite; Write...
Walking home from the bar the air was seasonally crisp. Back inside the place I had found myself explaining to a good friend, who was a little worried about me, just what I’ve been doing for the last five days -- functioning as a self-appointed, round-the-clock editor of what is the most terrifying/compelling story I’ve been close to in my life -- the Harvey murders.
But why? Maybe, my friend suggested, some in their grief could resent what they see as my using or even magnifying the tragedy. OK. My sobering walk’s thoughts on that topic have been gathered, here they are:
What I’ve been doing with my series of posts on SLANTblog is trying to present a restrained version of this story, with background, useful to people I care about. That, while I’ve been trying to keep my wits about me. I've suddenly broken down in tears every day, absorbing the dreadful details of the story as they came out. I've tried to avoid the gossip. Work has been my only balm.
It’s this way -- newspapers do their job, their way. Likewise the local broadcasters. They all have their intentions, as do the pushy national media types who've been roaming about the Fan District today. And, I have mine. Every publisher is obliged to define and perform for a specific audience. Each has his agenda.
My aim, however, has been to be useful to a smaller audience -- people who knew and cared about the Harveys. The little Fan District-centered world I know best is changing as I write these words. We won’t be the same again. This bizarre grief spell is unprecedented. Those who understand what I mean with that -- you are my audience, wherever you are as you read this.
We are, for a time, a community. This is our Kennedy assassination. This nightmare is our 9/11. Our Katrina.
The fog of pain in the air I’ve been breathing is the collective pain felt by decades of associations -- many longtime friends, people I’ve worked and partied with, people I’ve insulted, people I’ve schemed with, people I’ve played sports with, people I’ve helped and people who’ve helped me, people who’ve created a generation’s music and danced to it. Then there are our community’s children; my granddaughter, as was little lost Stella, is a nine-year-old at Fox Elementary.
As a pair, Bryan and Kathy Harvey were naturally cool and talented in ways few people are. He was a gifted musician/songwriter. He had a style that was risky, yet easy to like. As an artist, he was respected because he went his own way, rather that try to ride some artificial wave. In her professional realm, she was also an innovator, a trend-setter. She didn’t much need someone else to tell her where the boundaries were to do with style and aesthetics. Within a copycat world of retailing cookie cutters, she fashioned a World of Mirth.
They had two beautiful daughters, whose horrific deaths will haunt us forever as our ultimate standard for evil. No, we weren’t prepared to accept such a level of depravity existed in our midst. We pray our cops can soon deliver genuine relief.
...Soon, it will give me great pleasure to use SLANTblog to spread the word on what gets going to establish fitting remembrances to a family that represented the best in us: Four beings I’ve chosen to believe remained brave and felt the vibe of one another’s love to the very end.
Jan. 9: Picking up the pieces
Sunday morning I woke up still exhausted. Six whole days and nights of jolting aftershocks, which seemed to be shaking to pieces what matters most, wore this grizzled scribbler out. With the arrests in Philadelphia of two men, defendant No. 1 and defendant No. 2 (there names will not appear in any of my reports), an anxious Richmond, Virginia now prays for calm.
...Hopefully, these arrests will stick and reduce the flow of ghoulish gossip-mongering that’s been rampant. At the same time let's have the unvarnished truth from our police department and news agencies, ASAP. Let’s hear the worst of it, and get it over with.
Since we learned of the Jan. 1 Harvey murders we have been breathing shallowly, caught in the grip of fear. Guessed-at reasons for the Harveys to have been selected for slaughter dominated too many conversations, as if that’s what mattered most. Now it appears the dark speculations about how the crime had to have been personal, and thus had to have been committed by psychotic fiends who knew them, was mostly a matter of too many of us playing “profiler,” trying to make sense out of the senseless.
Those who knew Byran best for his much-admired music, figured it had to be about that. His song lyrics were mined for clues; old events and connections were revisited. Others closer to Kathy feared it had to do with her life as a prominent Carytown merchant. The couple's Woodland Heights neighbors surely suspected the bloodletting had to do with the neighborhood.
Thus, everyone saw the crime scene itself through their own prism. Which means, of course, the terrified children at Stella’s and Ruby’s schools must have thought it was about their little world.
Now, we’re told the Harveys may indeed have been picked at random. OK. Is that worse that our squirming-toad-imaginations conjured up, or not? Does it matter?
...It won’t surprise me if we eventually learn the Harveys weren’t picked totally at random, either, or that there’s more to come out. Perhaps these murders were something like the Clutter family's killings in Capote’s “In Cold Blood,” in that the crime started out as a robbery of people thought to be rich, but that easy motive was an excuse to do more. Or not. Maybe we’ll never know why.
After all, should we ever believe anything the sub-human culprits tell us? Hell, they may be so wicked they don’t really know why they did it, except it was a thrill.
In the crucible of this shared ordeal for the community grieving the painful loss of the Harveys a truth more important than base motives is being forged: We know much, much better than before that we absolutely cherish our ordinary lives, just as they are -- our children, our friends, our history together and our community.
There were 1,399 of us at the Byrd Theatre yesterday afternoon for the memorial ceremony. Let me tell you, being in that room was a powerful experience. We were told by speakers to “remember the Harveys well,” by remembering them as who they were -- generous, talented people who gladly took the risks to make us dance and laugh...
*
Jan. 10: Harvey Memorial Fund Established
At the request of family and friends, The Community Foundation Serving Richmond and Central Virginia (Tax ID# 23-7009135) has created the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment.
The Fund is established in memory of Bryan, Kathryn, Stella and Ruby Harvey and will be advised by a committee of their family and friends. Bryan and Kathryn shared a love of music and art, and they were known to their family and friends as kind and generous people. Thus, it is appropriate that the purpose of the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment is to provide music, visual art and performing arts enrichment in the Richmond area, which may include but is not limited to educational scholarships.
April 28: Harvey 50th Well Done
The Bryan Harvey 50th birthday party at Plan 9 was exactly what I thought/hoped it would be. It was absolutely upbeat, even light-hearted. If there was any weeping, well, I missed it. Good. One more sign that life really does go on, no matter what.
Still, remembering is important. Tonight, it was music that was remembered, and presented well by Bryan's longtime friends, who happen to be top shelf musicians. I needed to go to this oddly sweet happening tonight, staged to spotlight the Bryan Harvey CD. I needed to see that crowd back on its feet, after having been shattered by the events of the first week of 2006. It did me good to be there, and I'm sure others felt the same way...
June 15: Remembering the Sunlit Painted Ladies
A soccer ball rolled toward the fence ... a boy running away from it, toward the school building ... it was almost 2 p.m. The running boy was being called to join his classmates. The students, faculty and the school’s can-do PTA were all assembling on the front steps.
At William F. Fox Elementary School a garden graced with sculpture created by the community mentioned above was dedicated. The songs sung by the children were poignant. At the end butterflies were released into the perfect sunlit sky; Painted Lady butterflies according to rising second-grader Sam Knox.
The children were fine. Those adults who wept stayed in the shadows, if they could, during the brave celebration. Most of the grownups were fine, too, familiar faces smiling. The Harvey Family Memorial Garden was dedicated.
Aug. 23: The trial is over
The trial is over. The murderer has been sentenced to die for killing the children, Stella and Ruby Harvey. While others applaud the just sentence and find in it triumph, or find an opportunity to make some political point, I’ll pass on both accounts.
Today, I’m glad the ordeal of the trial is behind us. While some seem fascinated with the depravity of the wicked culprit’s deeds, I’ll not write his name in this space; I don’t use his name in conversation.
Today, I’m glad the evidence from the trial will now be packed up and no one who loved the lost Harvey family will ever have to look at any of it again. Closure? I’ll pass on using that word to define the moment, too. It’s a word I find to be utterly useless in a situation such as this. Furthermore, I won’t let the media, or anyone who thinks they know best, tell me how to view the crime, or its aftermath...
Dec 19: Ruby's Run raises $6,000
The Richmond Times-Dispatch has a follow-up item about the Ruby’s Run fundraising event that was held in Byrd Park on Nov. 4th:
“Ruby Harvey’s memory lives on at her preschool. A check for approximately $6,000, raised during the Ruby Harvey Memorial Children’s Run last month on the Carillon Grounds, will be presented today during a ceremony at Second Presbyterian Church, 5 N. Fifth St. The money will go into a scholarship fund bearing Ruby’s name at the church’s child-care center, where Ruby was a student.”
This morning, a little girl named Bella, who was Ruby’s best friend at kindergarten, accepted the check for the fundraiser’s proceeds on behalf of the child-care center.
*
What happened to the Harveys is something we can scrutinize forever and perhaps never understand. Details may convict the culprits, but they won’t tell us why they did what they did. Dwelling on the whys won’t bring one smile to anyone’s face, either. But I guarantee the reader that if you actually go over to Fox School to look at the memorial garden in front of the school, you will smile.
The black and white photo of Bryan Harvey above was shot by Cindy Hicks (1982). It is used here with her permission. All rights to its use are reserved by Hicks. Other photos by SLANT.
Ruby's Run raises $6,000
The Richmond Times-Dispatch has a follow-up item about the Ruby’s Run fundraising event that was held on Nov. 4th, “Run Raisers $6,000 for Ruby fund”:
“Ruby Harvey’s memory lives on at her preschool. A check for approximately $6,000, raised during the Ruby Harvey Memorial Children’s Run last month on the Carillon Grounds, will be presented today during a ceremony at Second Presbyterian Church, 5 N. Fifth St. The money will go into a scholarship fund bearing Ruby’s name at the church’s child-care center, where Ruby was a student. The service will begin at 10 a.m.
“Four-year-old Ruby was murdered along with her sister, Stella, 9, and their parents, Bryan and Kathryn Harvey, during a robbery in their Richmond home on Jan. 1...”
This morning, a little girl named Bella, who was Ruby’s best friend at kindergarten, accepted the check for the fundraiser’s proceeds on behalf of the child-care center. Click here to read the entire piece.
For background on the story of the slain Harvey family click here.
“Ruby Harvey’s memory lives on at her preschool. A check for approximately $6,000, raised during the Ruby Harvey Memorial Children’s Run last month on the Carillon Grounds, will be presented today during a ceremony at Second Presbyterian Church, 5 N. Fifth St. The money will go into a scholarship fund bearing Ruby’s name at the church’s child-care center, where Ruby was a student. The service will begin at 10 a.m.
“Four-year-old Ruby was murdered along with her sister, Stella, 9, and their parents, Bryan and Kathryn Harvey, during a robbery in their Richmond home on Jan. 1...”
This morning, a little girl named Bella, who was Ruby’s best friend at kindergarten, accepted the check for the fundraiser’s proceeds on behalf of the child-care center. Click here to read the entire piece.
For background on the story of the slain Harvey family click here.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Innocence, another form of evil
One of my all-time favorites, columnist/expert on international politics Georgie Anne Geyer, examines “The Evil Within the Innocence.” What follows is how she gets underway:
“There was a brief period of wishful thinking after the Baker/Hamilton Commission report was issued last week that W’s ‘Axis of Evil’ might have died along with any real hope of winning in Iraq -- but no.
“Only days afterward, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice not only confirmed that we would NOT speak to either Iran, an axis member, or Syria, a serious runner-up, but also said she sees the Middle East as being ‘rearranged’ in ways that provide the United States with a ‘new strategic context’ and a ‘clarifying moment.’
“One could agree with the clarifying moment part, but only in the realm of sarcasm...”
Click here to read Geyer’s entire piece; it is the view of a trained eye.
“There was a brief period of wishful thinking after the Baker/Hamilton Commission report was issued last week that W’s ‘Axis of Evil’ might have died along with any real hope of winning in Iraq -- but no.
“Only days afterward, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice not only confirmed that we would NOT speak to either Iran, an axis member, or Syria, a serious runner-up, but also said she sees the Middle East as being ‘rearranged’ in ways that provide the United States with a ‘new strategic context’ and a ‘clarifying moment.’
“One could agree with the clarifying moment part, but only in the realm of sarcasm...”
Click here to read Geyer’s entire piece; it is the view of a trained eye.
NRBQ at High on the Hog poster
Fan City Series No. 2 -- "NRBQ at High on the Hog" -- a high quality 13" x 19" print on archival paper (one of 45 prints). This is one of three images that begin a new venture for me. There are more to come. Information about how to buy one of these limited edition prints will be posted in a day or two.The other two images that have been scanned and printed can be viewed by clicking on their links. All three of the images can be enlarged by clicking on them.
"Thirty Good Years."
"Fan District Cat."
I can't say how delighted I am with the splendid quality of this printing process. It has spawned a whole new wave of creativity. All of the posters in this new Fan City Series are going to be the same size. Each run will be limited to 45 prints of the image. Other images are on the drawing board. Stay tuned for more info.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
VCU 53, UAB 44
At the Siegel Center tonight, before a crowd of 4,124, a college basketball game was played between a pair of old rivals. It was the 36th meeting between Virginia Commonwealth University and the University of Alabama at Birmingham. As neither team was ever able to establish an offensive rhythm, both tried to win it with their defense.
VCU’s defense was better. It caused UAB to turn the ball over 22 times and it held the Blazers to making only 31.3 percent of their shots from the field: VCU 53, UAB 44.
“It wasn’t pretty but we found a way to win,” said Rams first-year head coach. Anthony Grant.
The Rams point guard, sophomore Eric Maynor, quietly and efficiently did a little of everything to help VCU find its winning way. He scored 12 points, dished out five assists, grabbed six rebounds, blocked two shots and made three steals.
VCU (8-2) will next face Delaware (0-7) on Wednesday at 7 p.m. at the Siegel Center.
VCU’s defense was better. It caused UAB to turn the ball over 22 times and it held the Blazers to making only 31.3 percent of their shots from the field: VCU 53, UAB 44.
“It wasn’t pretty but we found a way to win,” said Rams first-year head coach. Anthony Grant.
The Rams point guard, sophomore Eric Maynor, quietly and efficiently did a little of everything to help VCU find its winning way. He scored 12 points, dished out five assists, grabbed six rebounds, blocked two shots and made three steals.
VCU (8-2) will next face Delaware (0-7) on Wednesday at 7 p.m. at the Siegel Center.
Friday, December 15, 2006
SLANT T-shirt
Here's a view of the art for the first SLANT T-shirt to be available to art-loving T-shirt collectors in over 15 years.The oil painting was done in the mid-'90s. The public first saw it when it appeared on a SLANT calendar. My goal for the piece, when I was doing it, was to figure out how to paint eyes that would follow the viewer, no matter where he stood. We've all seen those paintings in galleries where the eyes seem to do that.
When I finally got it -- at least it seemed to me it worked -- yes, it was very satisfying. Click here to go to F.T. Rea's Inkbites to learn more about buying the T-shirt.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Word of the Year?
Geoffrey Nunberg’s latest Fresh Air Commentary, presented yesterday on NPR’s Fresh Air, examined the contenders for Word of the Year. He mentioned possibilities from “truthiness” to “netroots.” Nunberg then explained the case for why “macaca” ought to win the prize.
“It’s a strong field this year, what with contenders like Islamo-fascism, netroots, dwarf planet, buzzkill, and ‘the decider.’ Or if you were looking simply for the most bounce to the ounce, you might decide to go with macaca, an item whose first and only appearance in American public discourse could be credited with tipping the Senate to the Democrats. Given the razor-thin margin in the Virginia Senate race, it’s a fair bet that George Allen would have kept his seat if not for the flap when he used the word to refer to an Indian-American at a campaign rally and then tried to explain it away as a term he’d made up on the spot without knowing what it meant. If that was so, it was certainly a bit of freakish bad luck that led him to tumble on a word that happens to be a racial slur in the North African French spoken by his mother...”
Eventually, the linguist’s crisp essay looked more deeply than most commentators can manage into Michael Richard’s diatribe/meltdown in a comedy club -- with its uncomfortable aftermath of apologies -- and the key word used by Richards.
By the way, Nunberg is a professor at UC Berkeley’s School of Information and a researcher at the Center for the Study of Language and Information at Stanford University. Click here to read the entire Word of the Year essay.
“It’s a strong field this year, what with contenders like Islamo-fascism, netroots, dwarf planet, buzzkill, and ‘the decider.’ Or if you were looking simply for the most bounce to the ounce, you might decide to go with macaca, an item whose first and only appearance in American public discourse could be credited with tipping the Senate to the Democrats. Given the razor-thin margin in the Virginia Senate race, it’s a fair bet that George Allen would have kept his seat if not for the flap when he used the word to refer to an Indian-American at a campaign rally and then tried to explain it away as a term he’d made up on the spot without knowing what it meant. If that was so, it was certainly a bit of freakish bad luck that led him to tumble on a word that happens to be a racial slur in the North African French spoken by his mother...”
Eventually, the linguist’s crisp essay looked more deeply than most commentators can manage into Michael Richard’s diatribe/meltdown in a comedy club -- with its uncomfortable aftermath of apologies -- and the key word used by Richards.
By the way, Nunberg is a professor at UC Berkeley’s School of Information and a researcher at the Center for the Study of Language and Information at Stanford University. Click here to read the entire Word of the Year essay.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Chutzpah of the Year Award to Webb
Senator-elect Jim Webb was easily the most significant player on the Virginia political landscape during 2006. Early in the year, when others saw beating the Republican incumbent, Senator George Allen, as impossible, Webb -- a successful writer who didn’t need a new career -- decided to run.No one knew what would happen in a Webb vs. Allen race, but many proclaimed they did. Pundits sneered at Webb’s chances after he won a Democratic primary in June. Webb pressed on, steering deftly through colorful events on the campaign trail that were as unprecedented as it gets.
Then, credit for Webb’s somewhat shocking November win over Allen was promptly claimed by many, near and far. Some of those who rushed to pat themselves on their backs seemed to almost overlook the role of the candidate, himself.
At this desk I see only one standout as deserving of SLANT’s semi-coveted award for political chutzpah -- Jim Webb, the difference-maker who stuck his neck out, and found a way to win. Thus, from the for-what-it’s-worth department, SLANT’s 2006 Chutzpah of the Year Award goes to Jim Webb.
Art by F.T. Rea
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
News of Buzz Montsinger's recovery
From Gene Chandler, via email, comes new word about the recovery of saxophonist Buzz Montsinger (pictured above). For background on the story of Montsinger’s serious neck injury in April, and his determined comeback since, click here for a previous SLANTblog post. And, with regard to Chandler’s news, posted below, and the good-deed-opportunity he presents the music-loving reader, remember -- ’tis the season..."Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones. As most of you know on April 30 of this year our dear friend Buzz Montsinger fell and suffered a serious spinal cord injury that left him paralyzed from the neck down.
"Needless to say this has been a devastating experience in Buzz’s life. The good news is that after surgery and a lot of hard work, Buzz has made remarkable progress. He maintains that same determination that he showed us when he played football for the University of Richmond. He still has a long way to go, but his spirits are good and he remains positive. It is remarkable that he can now get around with a walker or a cane.
"I know a lot of you helped out in a big way when we held a fundraiser for him on July 16th, and because of everyone’s generosity some of his debts and most of his medical expenses are currently under control.
"However, more needs to be done. In addition to medical care and intensive physical therapy he needs his own place to live and begin to rebuild his personal foundation. He has an opportunity to purchase a mobile home in Myrtle Beach, near his brother’s house, where he was living last spring before the accident. The house is located on a beautiful lake and he looks forward to his visits there. His plan is to make a gradual transition with the intention of regaining total mobility and becoming independent again. He just returned from there and has established a support group of people to assist him when he visits there.
"The goal is to raise $10,000 by the first of the year; we have already raised $3,000 with $7,000 to go. I am asking for your help.
"Please consider making a donation of whatever amount you can to enable Buzz to reach his goals. Remember all of the great music Buzz has given to us over the years with that beautiful saxophone of his playing for The Escorts, The Jokers Wild, Ron Moody and The Centaurs and Steve Bassett. That music made us all get up and dance and realize that now it is our turn to help Buzz stand up and once again dance his own dance.
"Please send a check for whatever amount you can to “Give Love to Buzz” in care of Buzz’s daughter Shannon Montsinger at 206 Damascus Drive, Richmond, VA 23227. Also please share this letter with other friends who might want to help.
"If you have any questions you can all me or be sure to visit the GiveLoveToBuzz website. Thank you in advance for anything you can do and may God Bless you and your loved ones during this joyous Holiday Season."
-- Gene Chandler, 804-356-6570
Buzz with sax photo by SLANT. Photo of group by Artie Probst
Not your daddy’s VCU Rams
The week’s sports column at Richmond.com, The Bounce, is a heads-up for area hoops fans: These aren’t your daddy’s VCU Rams. Something very interesting, hoops-wise, is in its early stages of development here in the Fan District. The Rams new coach, Anthony Grant, has VCU playing at a pace just short of a runaway train, but almost magically, the players are not out of control.
“This year’s tilt was at the Robins Center on Saturday. Promoted as the Farm Bureau Insurance Black & Blue Classic, it was also a clash in basketball philosophies, in that it matched Richmond's somewhat specialized offense against VCU’s new overplaying defense. Going into it, this was a match-up that had some local hoops aficionados wondering which team's so-called ‘system’ would give way to the other ... when push came to shove. This time it was the visiting Rams' stifling 'D' that prevailed: VCU 68, Richmond 54.”
“This year’s tilt was at the Robins Center on Saturday. Promoted as the Farm Bureau Insurance Black & Blue Classic, it was also a clash in basketball philosophies, in that it matched Richmond's somewhat specialized offense against VCU’s new overplaying defense. Going into it, this was a match-up that had some local hoops aficionados wondering which team's so-called ‘system’ would give way to the other ... when push came to shove. This time it was the visiting Rams' stifling 'D' that prevailed: VCU 68, Richmond 54.”
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Fan District Cat
In 1994 I moved from one side of the Fan District to the other. Zeke, my cat, came with me. However, Zeke apparently didn’t like moving, so he ran away as soon as I let him go outside. Once he’d been gone a week I began to accept he was probably gone for good. As he’d always been a free spirit -- he was still holding -- I figured he probably got lost, or found a better home, in the pursuit his agenda.Then again, I wondered if he might have found his way back to his old haunts, however it is animals manage to know their way across totally unfamiliar turf back to what they consider to be their true home. So, I went back -- about 20 blocks away -- and looked for him, and called out for him for at least a month, every few days. Finally, I gave up.
After all, Zeke wasn’t a cat I’d ever wanted in the first place. The girlfriend who’d moved out from our shared flat a year before my own move had insisted we needed a cat, so she got him as a kitten. Then, when she flew the coop, she left both of us for greener pastures in the suburbs.
About 10 weeks after the cat disappeared, in a conversation with my daughter, I admitted I missed him more than I thought I would. She offered a suggestion: "Make one last attempt to find him -- why don’t you make some handbills and put them up in your old neighborhood? What can it hurt?"
The handbill thing goes way back with me, but that‘s another story. Anyway, I promised her I’d do it. So, mostly as a lark, I drew a quick black and white sketch of Zeke, in a herring bone jacket, below a Lost Cat headline, wrote out a description of how he actually looked, and added my phone number. A couple of days after I had stapled several of them up on the utility poles within three blocks of my old pad, in each direction, I got a phone call from a former neighbor.
From having seen SLANT regularly, she recognized the cartoon drawing as one of mine and she also remembered the cat, too, which she told me she thought she might have seen earlier that day, under her porch.
So, I drove straight over and sure enough it was Zeke. But he looked different. He was skinny as hell and all beat up. He had a nasty gash in his head, and his front claws were worn down to the numbs. Plus, he was sick.
When I took him to the veterinarian I was told the cat was half-dead from an infection. Anyway, when Zeke left the vet's he was full of antibiotics and his natural urge to wander into trouble had been curbed -- he was no longer holding.
Well, I was so delighted to have him back that I used the same pose of the cat in a coat from the handbill -- this time with color -- to create a new piece of art to celebrate Zeke's return, which I later used on a SLANT calendar. Zeke died about three years after this incident and is buried on the 8th fairway of a Frisbee-golf course I frequent.
Fast forward ten years -- now that same whimsical portrait of my old friend Zeke has been recycled onto a poster, as shown above. The image is 16 inches high, by 12 inches wide, and it is printed on archival paper in a limited edition -- only 45 prints.
This marks the launching of a new series of prints I am in the process of making -- the Fan City Series -- which will be available to the discerning art-buying public in just a few more days. Two or three more images will be added next week. More details will follow.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Peace and chance, with a dash of good humor
John LennonIn February of 1964 the Beatles made their initial appearances on the Ed Sullivan Show. At the time most people probably didn’t connect the events, but those two appearances were only three months after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Surely, the somber mood of the nation following the jolts -- Bang! Kennedy. Bang! Oswald. -- had something to do with why those early Beatles recordings cut through the heavy airwaves with such verve.
Clearly, there has been no explosion in the American pop music scene since -- pow! -- with anything near the equivalent impact of Liverpool’s Fab Four.
Then, in 1980, the murder of moody John Lennon had an impact on the public few would have predicted. It was as if a world leader had been gunned down on the street in Manhattan.
Lennon’s obvious contributions as a songwriter and musician were huge. However, it was the working class hero’s tart integrity and delight in taking risks that set him apart from his teen idol counterparts, many of whom toyed with politics and social causes as if they were merely hairdos or dance crazes.
With the Vietnam War still underway in the early ‘70s, President Richard Nixon looked at Lennon and saw the raw power to galvanize a generation’s anti-establishment sentiments. Fearful of that potential, the Nixon administration did everything it could to hound Lennon out of the country. The details of that nasty little campaign are just as bewildering as some of the better known abuses that flowed from the Dirty Tricks Department in the White House during those scandal-ridden days.
With two-and-a-half decades of perspective on Lennon’s death, it’s possible to see that even if that particular nut-case (a man I choose not to name because I refuse to add in any way to his celebrity) hadn’t pulled the trigger, it could easily have been another one; there were bullets out there with John Lennon’s name on them.
Like the comets of each generation are bound to do, sometimes Lennon burned too bright for his own good.
And speaking of assassins, at this time I’m also reminded of an item that ran in the Nashville Banner on Feb. 24, 1987. The article began with this:
“Two Nashville musicians remained free on $500 bond today after they went on a magazine-shredding tear …to protest People magazine’s current cover story.”
The two musicians were Gregg Wetzel, and Mike McAdam. As members of the Good Humor Band they were fixtures in Richmond’s Rock ‘n’ Roll scene in the early ‘80s. By the time the story mentioned above was published, the pair had established themselves as respected sidemen in Nashville -- Wetzel on piano and McAdam on guitar.
In a nutshell, Gregg and Mike became incensed at seeing the magazine with a cover story about John Lennon’s murderer. They felt spotlighting the killer in that way might encourage another deranged wannabe to take gun in hand to go after whoever. So they fortified themselves with an adequate dose of what-it-takes -- legend has it they were drinking out of an Elvis decanter -- and set out on a mission to destroy the cover of every copy of the offensive publication they could find on the strip. As the reader may know, this sort of endeavor is best done in the wee hours.
In the course of their fifth stop, at a Nashville convenience store, the avenging angels were stopped by the cops and charged with “malicious mischief.” Shortly afterwards, in a interview about the incident, McAdam said, “If another guy like [name withheld again] sees that, he might think he can get on the cover of People magazine by killing a politician or artist.”
Bravo!
Primary among the reasons John Lennon was selected for the kill by his stalking murderer was he had a rare ability to move people. In that sense, Lennon was slain for the same reason as political figures such as Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy. Two thousand years ago Jesus H. Christ was taken out of the game for much the same reason: He challenged people to change; to take a chance on a life based on something better than might making right.
Although Nixon miscalculated Lennon’s intentions, the soon-to-be-disgraced president was probably right about the former Beatle’s potential to focus the anti-establishment sentiments in the air. What Nixon didn’t grasp was that Lennon -- in spite of his mischievous streak -- was really more interested in promoting peace than fomenting revolution.
Even today, some of Lennon’s best post-Beatles cuts seem fresh, they still have the feeling of being experimental. Now, well into stranger days, indeed, chance we wonder? ... imagine.
-- 30 --
Update: Click here to read “Six Degrees of Humor,” a Kate Bredimus story about the history of the Good Humor Band at Richmond.com., penned in 2002.
Then, the following postscript has just come in, via email, from the old magazine-shredder himself, Gregg Wetzel:
“The cops looked at me and McAdam, decided we weren’t exactly flight risks and entrusted our transport to the pokey with an attractive female officer, all by her lonesome. On the way to the hoosegow, Mickey hit on the cop. True story.”
Update: Click here to read “Six Degrees of Humor,” a Kate Bredimus story about the history of the Good Humor Band at Richmond.com., penned in 2002.
Then, the following postscript has just come in, via email, from the old magazine-shredder himself, Gregg Wetzel:
“The cops looked at me and McAdam, decided we weren’t exactly flight risks and entrusted our transport to the pokey with an attractive female officer, all by her lonesome. On the way to the hoosegow, Mickey hit on the cop. True story.”
Monday, December 04, 2006
Richmond's Bloody Interregnum
Politics can be a rough game. Sometimes, when heads are hard enough, elections don’t settle differences. In Virginia there’s nothing really new about that. Sometimes, things get out of hand.The Bloody Interregnum was the name given to the politics-gone-wrong brouhaha over whether George Chahoon or Henry K. Ellyson was the lawful mayor of Richmond. When the five-year military occupation of Virginia following the Civil War ended on January 26, 1870, Gov. Gilbert C. Walker promptly appointed a new City Council for Richmond. That body in turn selected Henry K. Ellyson, publisher of The Dispatch -- forerunner to today’s Richmond Times-Dispatch -- as the city’s mayor.
However, George Chahoon, who had served as mayor during the last two years of Reconstruction, refused to recognize the validity of the process. Although the transplanted New Yorker had a considerable following around town, he was seen by Ellyson’s backers as a lowdown “carpetbagger.” After all, Chahoon had served at the pleasure of the military overlords.
When neither man would give ground, the city itself fractured. As positions solidified, the split became a chasm; the result of which created two separate city governments. There were two police departments, two City Halls, etc. Brawls became commonplace as the supporters of both men sought to press their case on every street corner. Chaos, with gunplay aplenty, ensued.
Notably, in spite of the fact that Richmond served as the capital of the Confederacy during a portion of the Civil War, it was not without its Union sympathizers. In fact, Richmond was quite divided on the topic of secession before the war. During and after the war there were substantial elements present that could be characterized as pro-Union.
Like America’s 2000 presidential election, in 1870 the impasse found its way into court. On April 27, the Virginia Supreme Court of Appeals met to hear arguments from the two camps on the third floor of the state Capitol building.
The anxious citizens shouldered onto the balcony to witness the spectacle. Suddenly it collapsed under all the weight. The balcony and spectators crashed onto the hapless below. Widely known as The Capitol Disaster, when the smoke cleared the tragedy left 62 people dead and 251 injured.
Two days later, the court reconvened at City Hall. In due time, a verdict favorable to Ellyson was returned. A month later, a citywide election took place. But no clear winner emerged from that exercise, either. This time the contentiousness stemmed from the disappearance of a ballot box from a precinct friendly to Chahoon. Same as ever, both sides traded more accusations. Although Ellyson was certified as the winner by the election board, he declined to serve because the election results were tainted, therefore inconclusive. Thus, the battle raged on.
Eventually Chahoon left town to avoid facing the consequences of several felony indictments -- supposedly of a nonpolitical nature -- that were heaped upon him. For his part, Ellyson grew weary of the struggle and withdrew from the race.
It finally ended on July 1, 1871, with the election of Anthony Keily as the one and only mayor of the exhausted city of Richmond. The actions of those who were most caught up in the 17 months of the Bloody Interregnum left stains that perpetuated grudges in Richmond for generations to come.
As a child growing up in Richmond, I heard adventure tales from my grandfather about this bizarre time. He claimed he was told as a boy by his salty old Uncle George (who was a sheriff, among other things) that most men in Richmond carried guns on the street in those wild days, much like what we’ve see in western movies. Duels were not unusual.
All of which makes today’s scandals and imbroglios in the Virginia political landscape over “macaca,” or frosty words at a White House social function, seem rather tame.
Illustration: W. L. Sheppard’s wood engraving of the Capitol Disaster for Harper’s Weekly (1870)
-- 30 --
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Rams chase Cougars out of the gym
The Houston Cougars came to the Siegel Center on W. Broad St. to play a basketball game. With them they brought their snazzy 93.2 points-per-game average, to face the VCU Rams. As Anthony Grant, VCU’s first-year head coach, has installed a new overplaying, trapping defense this year, this tilt matched styles that could produce a high-scoring affair. It did.
The pressing Rams harassed the Cougars into 17 turnovers in the first half, which ended with VCU holding a 22-point lead. At times it looked more like a track meet than a game of hoops. In the second half the Rams used their working margin to keep the Cougars in the rear view mirror: VCU 102, Houston 84.
The Rams scoring attack was paced by its three starting guards, who shot 10-for-18 from beyond the three-point line: Eric Maynor scored 28 points; B.A. Walker scored 26 points; Jesse Pellot-Rosa scored 20 points. Point guard Maynor also set a new personal career high for assists with 11.
Pleased with his team’s effort on defense, to impose its will on the opponent, Grant said, “Our guys set the tone early. Praising his bench, Grant added, “Our strength is in our numbers.”
Houston’s coach, Tom Penders, is in his 33rd season as a collegiate head coach. Of VCU’s guards Penders said, “That’s one of the best backcourts I’ve seen in a while. VCU played a great game. Not a good game ... a great game!”
The pressing Rams harassed the Cougars into 17 turnovers in the first half, which ended with VCU holding a 22-point lead. At times it looked more like a track meet than a game of hoops. In the second half the Rams used their working margin to keep the Cougars in the rear view mirror: VCU 102, Houston 84.
The Rams scoring attack was paced by its three starting guards, who shot 10-for-18 from beyond the three-point line: Eric Maynor scored 28 points; B.A. Walker scored 26 points; Jesse Pellot-Rosa scored 20 points. Point guard Maynor also set a new personal career high for assists with 11.
Pleased with his team’s effort on defense, to impose its will on the opponent, Grant said, “Our guys set the tone early. Praising his bench, Grant added, “Our strength is in our numbers.”
Houston’s coach, Tom Penders, is in his 33rd season as a collegiate head coach. Of VCU’s guards Penders said, “That’s one of the best backcourts I’ve seen in a while. VCU played a great game. Not a good game ... a great game!”
Coach Bobby Ross
Note: Watching Coach Bobby Ross on the sidelines of today’s Army vs. Navy football game, the 107th in the series, made me think of a feature I wrote about him a couple of years ago for a local magazine. As some sports fans might know, Ross, who is from Richmond, is a much beloved figure in Virginia and in the college coaching ranks. I interviewed him just before his first season at West Point was to start. Ross was enthusiastic about returning to coaching but he knew his job at Army would not be an easy one.
By the way, heavily-favored Navy won the game today: Navy 26, Army 14.
Bobby Ross at the press conference which presented him as Army's 34th head football coach (USMA, 2003).
From Benedictine to West Point
by F.T. Rea (Sept. 2004 issue of FiftyPlus)
Fresh out of Virginia Military Institute, Bobby Ross took on his first mission as a football coach in 1959. Benedictine High School’s dynamic athletic director, Warren Rutledge, hired the 22-year-old Ross coming off of a stellar athletic career at Benedictine and VMI. Now, forty-five years later, it seems the last mission of Ross’ distinguished coaching career -- which includes a college national championship and a trip to the Super Bowl -- will be to restore a measure of dignity to the pigskin program at the United States Military Academy.
Ross’ predecessor at West Point, Todd Berry, posted a 5-42 record before he was mercifully relieved of command in the midst of last season, a campaign in which Army eventually lost all thirteen of its scheduled games
Ross, at 67, obviously has his work cut out for him.
Some say this mission can’t be accomplished in the money-driven, brave new world of so-called amateur sports. How can he attract today’s top athletes to such an academically challenging institution, with a five-year military commitment in a time of war to follow? Others suggest that Ross, himself, is simply out-of-date.
Fine: Coach Ross is at ease operating as the underdog. Yes, and looking beyond the “0-13” and the “67,” Ross and West Point seem to be a perfect fit in many ways. Perhaps most importantly, right now they need one another.
The search committee that lured Ross out of retirement knew that its situation called for more than just a smart, tough-minded football coach. It cried out for a man who understood the Academy’s military-based system, who could hit the ground running. Having worn the cadet uniforms of both Benedictine and VMI, and coached at The Citadel, Ross certainly knows his way around a cadet corps.
Thus, with a natural grasp of the importance of tradition at West Point, Ross is accentuating the positive. “Coaching at a place like this,” he said, “is college football in its purest form. No compromises are made here.”
Ross’ most recent stint as a head coach was in the National Football League with the Detroit Lions. Two-thirds of the way through the 2000 season, his fourth in Detroit, Ross announced he was stepping down, due to mounting health concerns. Cynics assumed he was burned out. Truth be told, his decision was precipitated by the reappearance of painful blood clots in his right leg (his father had suffered from similar problems, and eventually lost both of his legs).
Why did a man who shouldn’t have anything to prove come out of a comfortable retirement? With a clarity that might well flow from being accustomed to fielding the same questions repeatedly, Ross answered politely: “I felt like I had a lot of energy. Then the competitive instincts were returning.”
When Ross speaks of football, his voice reveals little about his state of mind. It’s his business, after all, and he sounds much like the thoughtful professional. On the other hand, when he talks about Chiocca’s, a restaurant in Richmond’s Benedictine neighborhood -- “The best roast beef sandwich I've ever had!” -- or afternoon walks through the same neighborhood, where his wife grew up, or when he reminisces about old ballfields such as Hotchkiss, near where he grew up, and the diamond in Byrd Park where Benedictine used to play its home games, his warmth for his hometown is unrestrained
“I love Richmond,” said Ross, with his unchanged Richmond accent. “It's my home, and always will be.”
Ross and his wife, Alice, have five children and fifteen grandchildren. His son Kevin, who graduated from the Naval Academy in 1988, is now on his father’s staff, serving as Army’s offensive coordinator.
Asked about Bobby Ross, Benedictine's current athletic director, Barry Gibrall, pointed out that Ross has often helped the school, sometimes under a veil of anonymity. While he was serving on the school’s Board of Trustees, for instance, Ross noticed the Cadets football uniforms weren’t all precisely the same shade of green. Ross fixed it, but typically, he wanted no credit.
"The new renovations, state-of-the-art locker room and weight room, are a direct result of Coach Ross’ generosity,” Gibrall added. “He tears up when he remembers where he came from. He’s a Highland Park guy who has gone far. He doesn’t forget it.”
In recognition of this strong bond, last May Benedictine named its Goochland County football field Robert J. “Bobby” Ross Stadium. Gibrall said that Ross was surprised and characteristically humble about the announcement, saying he didn’t deserve it.
Gibrall, who played his football at Benedictine in the early-sixties, chuckled. “No one deserves it more! His name was the only one that came up.”
“He’s the greatest human being I've known in my life,” said Johnny Siewers, who played on the Benedictine basketball team with Ross for two seasons. “He never did anything wrong.”
Click here to read the entire piece.
By the way, heavily-favored Navy won the game today: Navy 26, Army 14.
Bobby Ross at the press conference which presented him as Army's 34th head football coach (USMA, 2003). From Benedictine to West Point
by F.T. Rea (Sept. 2004 issue of FiftyPlus)
Fresh out of Virginia Military Institute, Bobby Ross took on his first mission as a football coach in 1959. Benedictine High School’s dynamic athletic director, Warren Rutledge, hired the 22-year-old Ross coming off of a stellar athletic career at Benedictine and VMI. Now, forty-five years later, it seems the last mission of Ross’ distinguished coaching career -- which includes a college national championship and a trip to the Super Bowl -- will be to restore a measure of dignity to the pigskin program at the United States Military Academy.
Ross’ predecessor at West Point, Todd Berry, posted a 5-42 record before he was mercifully relieved of command in the midst of last season, a campaign in which Army eventually lost all thirteen of its scheduled games
Ross, at 67, obviously has his work cut out for him.
Some say this mission can’t be accomplished in the money-driven, brave new world of so-called amateur sports. How can he attract today’s top athletes to such an academically challenging institution, with a five-year military commitment in a time of war to follow? Others suggest that Ross, himself, is simply out-of-date.
Fine: Coach Ross is at ease operating as the underdog. Yes, and looking beyond the “0-13” and the “67,” Ross and West Point seem to be a perfect fit in many ways. Perhaps most importantly, right now they need one another.
The search committee that lured Ross out of retirement knew that its situation called for more than just a smart, tough-minded football coach. It cried out for a man who understood the Academy’s military-based system, who could hit the ground running. Having worn the cadet uniforms of both Benedictine and VMI, and coached at The Citadel, Ross certainly knows his way around a cadet corps.
Thus, with a natural grasp of the importance of tradition at West Point, Ross is accentuating the positive. “Coaching at a place like this,” he said, “is college football in its purest form. No compromises are made here.”
Ross’ most recent stint as a head coach was in the National Football League with the Detroit Lions. Two-thirds of the way through the 2000 season, his fourth in Detroit, Ross announced he was stepping down, due to mounting health concerns. Cynics assumed he was burned out. Truth be told, his decision was precipitated by the reappearance of painful blood clots in his right leg (his father had suffered from similar problems, and eventually lost both of his legs).
Why did a man who shouldn’t have anything to prove come out of a comfortable retirement? With a clarity that might well flow from being accustomed to fielding the same questions repeatedly, Ross answered politely: “I felt like I had a lot of energy. Then the competitive instincts were returning.”
When Ross speaks of football, his voice reveals little about his state of mind. It’s his business, after all, and he sounds much like the thoughtful professional. On the other hand, when he talks about Chiocca’s, a restaurant in Richmond’s Benedictine neighborhood -- “The best roast beef sandwich I've ever had!” -- or afternoon walks through the same neighborhood, where his wife grew up, or when he reminisces about old ballfields such as Hotchkiss, near where he grew up, and the diamond in Byrd Park where Benedictine used to play its home games, his warmth for his hometown is unrestrained
“I love Richmond,” said Ross, with his unchanged Richmond accent. “It's my home, and always will be.”
Ross and his wife, Alice, have five children and fifteen grandchildren. His son Kevin, who graduated from the Naval Academy in 1988, is now on his father’s staff, serving as Army’s offensive coordinator.
Asked about Bobby Ross, Benedictine's current athletic director, Barry Gibrall, pointed out that Ross has often helped the school, sometimes under a veil of anonymity. While he was serving on the school’s Board of Trustees, for instance, Ross noticed the Cadets football uniforms weren’t all precisely the same shade of green. Ross fixed it, but typically, he wanted no credit.
"The new renovations, state-of-the-art locker room and weight room, are a direct result of Coach Ross’ generosity,” Gibrall added. “He tears up when he remembers where he came from. He’s a Highland Park guy who has gone far. He doesn’t forget it.”
In recognition of this strong bond, last May Benedictine named its Goochland County football field Robert J. “Bobby” Ross Stadium. Gibrall said that Ross was surprised and characteristically humble about the announcement, saying he didn’t deserve it.
Gibrall, who played his football at Benedictine in the early-sixties, chuckled. “No one deserves it more! His name was the only one that came up.”
“He’s the greatest human being I've known in my life,” said Johnny Siewers, who played on the Benedictine basketball team with Ross for two seasons. “He never did anything wrong.”
Click here to read the entire piece.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Of bubbling teapots inside the beltway
After reading Dan Froomkin’s bulls-eye commentary, “On Calling Bullshit,” on the Neiman Watchdog Blog (hat tip to Waldo Jaquith), I felt like pointing out what, to me, is a bullshit story which has stayed in the news all week. But first I hope the reader will take in the Froomkin piece; it’s short and sets the stage nicely for the point I’ll try to make below this excerpt:
“What is it about Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert that makes them so refreshing and attractive to a wide variety of viewers (including those so-important younger ones)? I would argue that, more than anything else, it is that they enthusiastically call bullshit. Calling bullshit, of course, used to be central to journalism as well as to comedy. And we happen to be in a period in our history in which the substance in question is running particularly deep. The relentless spinning is enough to make anyone dizzy, and some of our most important political battles are about competing views of reality more than they are about policy choices...”
OK. One of the most important things the mainstream print media and broadcasters do every day is to decide what is news and what isn’t.
Partisans squawk all the time about biased coverage of the news, which happens. And, it can be galling when a bias leaks into what are supposed to be news reports, rather than editorials, OpEds, etc. Yet, the real power to promote or diminish people and ideas comes from being able to decide to put a story on the front page, or page 37, or no page at all.
Now comes the story of the exchange of words between President George Bush and Senator-elect Jim Webb at a recent White House reception. For background -- in case you’ve been on another planet this week -- here are links to two stories that will give you the lowdown on this brouhaha: “In Following His Own Script, Webb May Test Senate's Limits”; “Taking Sides on Webb’s Remarks”.
What I’m saying here is that this story about ruffled black-tie feathers at what was a traditional social function is a page 37 item; it should have appeared in the Style section of a daily newspaper. It should have merited about 300 words, at most, and gone away the next day. Instead, it has been at the top of the political news for days.
Why?
My answer indicts three factions: This story has been seen as useful by Bush supporters, as well as Webb supporters. And it has served a bunch of editors looking for an easy way to come up with enough copy to fill a political news space that has to be filled every day.
My answer is another angle on the bullshit factor in today’s way of reporting news by the mainstream media. What I’m saying here is that this little exchange between Bush and Webb meant little, if anything. If the reports about the incident are accurate, both men chose to pass on the opportunity to ignore a little barb in the words of the other. They are the same age, from very different backgrounds, and my guess is they don’t like one another all that much.
If Bush’s supporters want to think Webb was being boorish ... so what. Who cares? If Webb’s supporters want to think Bush was being imperious ... so what. What’s new in any of that? That is exactly what those groups of partisans thought last week, too.
Of course, fooled into thinking something important had happened, the political blogosphere exploded with outrage. The Bush backers unanimously see Webb as a hothead who will fail miserably in DeeCee. The Webb backers see Webb as a bigger hero than ever, because he bucked up to a president they loathe.
Not much news in any of that, either.
Furthermore, to suggest that this tempest in a teapot is indicative of what will be Webb’s inability to understand the sausage-making Washington culture, or to work with his colleagues, is pure spin.
To me, all it says about Webb is that it looks like he plans to be the same guy, no matter who he’s talking with. Perhaps Webb is going to try to avoid the game of being off-the-record or two-faced, at certain times, with certain people. He wants to be the same guy all the time.
So, the news is that Webb plans to continue to be Webb. And guess what -- Bush is planning to keep being Bush. End of story.
“What is it about Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert that makes them so refreshing and attractive to a wide variety of viewers (including those so-important younger ones)? I would argue that, more than anything else, it is that they enthusiastically call bullshit. Calling bullshit, of course, used to be central to journalism as well as to comedy. And we happen to be in a period in our history in which the substance in question is running particularly deep. The relentless spinning is enough to make anyone dizzy, and some of our most important political battles are about competing views of reality more than they are about policy choices...”
OK. One of the most important things the mainstream print media and broadcasters do every day is to decide what is news and what isn’t.
Partisans squawk all the time about biased coverage of the news, which happens. And, it can be galling when a bias leaks into what are supposed to be news reports, rather than editorials, OpEds, etc. Yet, the real power to promote or diminish people and ideas comes from being able to decide to put a story on the front page, or page 37, or no page at all.
Now comes the story of the exchange of words between President George Bush and Senator-elect Jim Webb at a recent White House reception. For background -- in case you’ve been on another planet this week -- here are links to two stories that will give you the lowdown on this brouhaha: “In Following His Own Script, Webb May Test Senate's Limits”; “Taking Sides on Webb’s Remarks”.
What I’m saying here is that this story about ruffled black-tie feathers at what was a traditional social function is a page 37 item; it should have appeared in the Style section of a daily newspaper. It should have merited about 300 words, at most, and gone away the next day. Instead, it has been at the top of the political news for days.
Why?
My answer indicts three factions: This story has been seen as useful by Bush supporters, as well as Webb supporters. And it has served a bunch of editors looking for an easy way to come up with enough copy to fill a political news space that has to be filled every day.
My answer is another angle on the bullshit factor in today’s way of reporting news by the mainstream media. What I’m saying here is that this little exchange between Bush and Webb meant little, if anything. If the reports about the incident are accurate, both men chose to pass on the opportunity to ignore a little barb in the words of the other. They are the same age, from very different backgrounds, and my guess is they don’t like one another all that much.
If Bush’s supporters want to think Webb was being boorish ... so what. Who cares? If Webb’s supporters want to think Bush was being imperious ... so what. What’s new in any of that? That is exactly what those groups of partisans thought last week, too.
Of course, fooled into thinking something important had happened, the political blogosphere exploded with outrage. The Bush backers unanimously see Webb as a hothead who will fail miserably in DeeCee. The Webb backers see Webb as a bigger hero than ever, because he bucked up to a president they loathe.
Not much news in any of that, either.
Furthermore, to suggest that this tempest in a teapot is indicative of what will be Webb’s inability to understand the sausage-making Washington culture, or to work with his colleagues, is pure spin.
To me, all it says about Webb is that it looks like he plans to be the same guy, no matter who he’s talking with. Perhaps Webb is going to try to avoid the game of being off-the-record or two-faced, at certain times, with certain people. He wants to be the same guy all the time.
So, the news is that Webb plans to continue to be Webb. And guess what -- Bush is planning to keep being Bush. End of story.
Note: A little bit of cosmetic editing, fixing typos, etc., was done at 8:45 p.m., same day.
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