MUSK AND TRUMP? THEY CAN HAVE EACH OTHER

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

I write the headline on this blog as Elon Musk and Donald Trump appear headed toward a decision for Trump to re-join Twitter.

I say – the two can have each other.

There is an irony in what I write this morning:  If I advocate paying attention to goofballs like Musk and Trump, then this blog achieves the opposition.  I am paying attention.

But, I add, I am doing so while also advocating a clear prescription:  Quit.

Also, I wish my “friends” in journalism would not devote so much time to following the two.  They don’t deserve star treatment.  Frankly, who cares what they say or do.

In the Washington Post, opinion columnist Megan McArdle agrees with me – or, perhaps, better said – I agree with her.  Her most recent column appeared under this headline – “What journalists should do if Trump returns to Twitter.”

Her column started this way:

“Until it happened, I didn’t want to go out on a limb and say that Elon Musk would definitely buy Twitter.  I am reluctant to make firm predictions about anything Musk does.  So, until he actually walked into Twitter headquarters carrying a sink, I treated his acquisition of Twitter as a thought experiment, like Schroedinger’s cat — maybe it is alive!  Maybe it is dead!  The only way to find out is to wait and see.

“But now he’s gone and done it, and it’s time to start grappling with the problem that might soon be upon us:  What to do if Musk allows former president Donald Trump to rejoin Twitter?

By “us,” McArdle said she means journalists.  If you are not one, she said there is an easy way to handle Trump’s tweeting – “ignore it.”

“Sure, I understand that you might be anxious about his vile provocations, but your fretting about every stupid tweet isn’t going to change anything.  All your attention does is encourage him.”

When Trump was president, McArdle said he did what he always does playing the role of the narcissist – he wants all the attention anyone will give him.

“As president, Trump cannily exploited those traditions to get himself billions worth of free media.  Every news cycle was about him, and some awful or ridiculous or provocative thing he said.  It is no exaggeration to say he climbed into the presidency on the shoulders of the hundreds of journalists who kept treating his pronouncements as matters of epic importance, even if it had been tapped out one-handed while schmoozing around Mar-a-Lago.

“It’s no longer news that Trump likes to say terrible things on social media. It isn’t news that he likes to threaten people, attack important civic institutions, tell baseless lies, and rub elbows with bigots.  No one in the country — in the world — can possibly be unaware of the kinds of things Trump likes to tweet or the revulsion this produces in establishment media.”

It’s time, McArdle argues, “to create a new journalistic tradition that will be harder for Trump to exploit.”

Rather than leaping to condemn his every pronouncement, we should treat Trump’s Twitter account the way we’d treat some random account with five followers and a penchant for rancid verbal attacks:  As if it were generally beneath our notice.

Then, as real journalists, report only on the tweets that actually convey new information, without the normal rancor and invective.

And, the bottom line:  Avoid covering his deliberate provocations.

Good advice.

And, as I said earlier in this blog, Musk and Trump deserve each other.  Let have them their own space and don’t let them intrude on yours.

GOLF’S SCARIEST GREENS, INCLUDING ONE OF MINE

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

As is often the case, a new article in the on-line edition of Links Magazine caught my attention this week.

In a story by David DeSmith, the article listed 10 of what he called “golf’s scariest greens.”

I reprint the list below.  It turns out I have only played one of the 10 – the 14th hole, a par 4 at Machrihanish Dunes, in Machrihanish, Scotland that measures just more than 300 yards.

I don’t remember the green, but it must have been tough to make the Links list.

Machrihanish Dunes is a course designed by Scottish architect, David McKay Kidd, who now lives in Bend, Oregon.

I had the privilege of playing the course, as well as the older Machrinish, which lies by the side of what Kidd created.

Great golf?  Yes.

Tough greens?  No doubt.

The article got me thinking of “scary greens” at Illahe Hills Golf and Country Club in Salem, Oregon, where I play most of my golf, as well as The Palms in La Quinta, California where I play during the winter.

Put simply, there are a lot of tough greens on both courses. 

At Illahe, a piece of advice I often give to first-time players is “stay below the hole.”  That’s because most of the greens run steeply from back to front.  Better to be short of the green on a hole than to face a tough, downhill putt.

To pick the toughest green at Illahe, in the spirit of the season – election season – I took a poll.  The universe of the poll was three friends and the margin of error was 100 per cent, just like any current pollster, this time me with all of my deficits.

The consensus?  There wasn’t one.

My friends could argue with this, but my candidate is hole #4, a par 5, with a green that slopes strongly from back to front.  And, sidehill putts?  Yes, there are many and they often are more difficult than those that go straight downhill.

Two friends nominated one that was close to the toughest for me — #8, a relatively short par 4, with a green that slopes off both to the left and the right.  On a short pin, a downhill putt on #8 is tough – very tough.  But to have such a putt, you have to hit and hold the green first.

At The Palms, I could pick all 18 greens, which are the major defense on the tough course.  But hole #1 ranks as toughest for me.  It’s tough to read putts on that hole (as on all others), prompting veteran members to tell me when I first joined that “you can’t read putts on the greens…you have to memorize them.”

I am still working on the memorization.

All of this said, here is the way the Links Magazine story started:

 “Okay — you’ve hit a green in regulation, and you’re feeling pretty proud of yourself.  Two putts and you’re out of there with a solid par; maybe you can even steal a birdie.  You’ve done the hard work, now it’s up to your flat stick to finish the job.

“Except that on some greens, your work will be far from finished.  As difficult as it is to find greens with approach shots on some holes, on many others the challenge presented by the putting surface is an inherent part of the hole’s difficulty.

“People who consider themselves bad putters may tremble at the sight of any green, or indeed any three-footer.  But even good putters will eventually find themselves on a green that gets their knees to knocking.”

Here are the Links top 10:

·      2nd hole—Oakmont Country Club, Oakmont, Pennsylvania (340 yards, par four)

Every green at Oakmont can give players fits.  They’re maintained at U.S. Open speeds all season, and unless you’re a Tour player, that means three-putts will be easy to come by.  The green at the par-four 2nd is among the most undulating at Oakmont, and an early opportunity to lose whatever confidence you may have had in your putting when you started your round. Plan to three-putt — then you won’t be disappointed.

·      1st hole­—Winged Foot Golf Club (West Course), Mamaroneck, New York (451 yards, par four)

The first time I saw a putt struck on the 1st green at Winged Foot West was in the 1974 U.S. Open.  A player had hit his approach shot to the back of the green, some 40 feet past the hole.  When he played his first putt, I thought he’d dubbed it.  It trickled, and trickled, and trickled — all the way off the front of the green some 60 feet away.  Downhill putts here are death. Sidehill putts aren’t much easier.  [Note:  I caddied for my son, Eric, when he played the U.S. Amateur there, but I have no memory of the 1^st hole.]

• 13th hole—Prestwick Golf Club, Prestwick, Scotland (458 yards, par four)

Some players will complain that a hole this long shouldn’t have a green this vexing.  That’s nonsense, of course.  Prestwick’s 13th is just a hole that requires four superb shots to earn a par — two of them putts on the slightly elevated and undulating green, which has steep drop-offs on several sides and enough ridges and tilts to give a golf ball vertigo.

·      6th hole—Riviera Country Club, Pacific Palisades, California (199 yards, par three)

The chief challenge on this green at Riviera has nothing to do with the putting surface.  It stems from the bunker that sits smack-dab in the middle of the donut-shaped green.  Do you try to chip over it?  Putt around it and just take your three-putt?  Members know:  Whatever you do, don’t put that bunker between your ball and the hole.

·      4th hole—Paako Ridge Golf Club, Sandia Park, New Mexico (182 yards, par three)

The green at this three-tiered par 3 is so deep from front-to-back (almost 100 yards) that you may need your playing partner to send up a flare if your tee shot finds the wrong tier.  It’s virtually impossible to practice putts of the length you may encounter here, and that’s often evident in scores players make on this hole.

·      5th hole—Augusta National Golf Club, Augusta, Georgia (510 yards, par four)

People who walk Augusta National for the first time often note that it’s hillier than it looks on television.  This green is, too.  From its false front, the green rises sharply before dropping off again and tumbling off in all directions.  Depending on the hole location, you may be better off missing this green than reaching it in two.

·      2nd hole—Tara Iti Golf Club, Mangawhai, New Zealand (182 yards, par three)

Tom Doak’s design at this standout New Zealand course has sand just about everywhere you look.  There are tees, fairways, greens — and sand. The 2nd hole here, like the 6th at Riviera, offers up even more sand in the form of a small pot bunker set in the middle of the green.  Depending on where your tee shot ends up, the contouring of this delightful green may help you find a path around the bunker to the hole — or it may do the opposite and force you to settle for a three-putt bogey.

·      14th hole—Machrihanish Dunes, Machrihanish, Scotland (332 yards, par four)

It’s common for short par fours to present you with devilish greens as their chief line of defense.  The shallow, slightly elevated green at this David McLay Kidd-designed hole will give you all you can handle.  A “buried elephant” in the front-right of the green can send mishit putts in wild directions.  But that only adds to the challenge — and fun.

·      8th hole—Pebble Beach Golf Links, Pebble Beach, Calif. (428 yards, par four)

It’s one of the most majestic holes in golf, with a storybook setting that seems too beautiful to be real.  It’s also one of the course’s most difficult —in part because of the design of the heart-shaped green, which slopes treacherously from back-right to front-left.  Most players will miss this green in two; if you do, plot your third shot carefully or you may leave yourself in three-putt territory and be staring quickly at a six.

·      6th hole—Royal Portrush Golf Club, Portrush, Northern Ireland (189 yards, par three)

Even before this already-large green was expanded to create an additional hole location in the very back, it gave players fits.  Despite its size, there are very few places on this putting surface that will yield anything close to a straight or flat putt. Add in some wind, and Portrush’s 6th is a bogey, or worse, waiting to happen.

So, the conclusion?  On many tough greens, take your three-putt and run.

OREGONIAN NEWSPAPER DESERVES HIGH CREDIT FOR ITS INTROSPECTION

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

As a former newspaper reporter, I am committed to reading various newspapers every day, including the Oregonian, which is published in Portland.

Why this headline?

The Oregonian has distinguished itself lately with a thorough and no-punches-pulled analysis of its racist history.

As a long-time reader of the newspaper, I was shocked to learn of some of the misdeeds, as well as very poorly chosen words of previous editors, which, given their evident racism, might have been intentional. 

Beyond shocked!

Two long and detailed stories have been printed and more may be on the way.  Headlines for the two, which are part of a series which has been labeled “Publishing Prejudice:”

• The Oregonian’s Racist Legacy:  The overtly racist words printed by Henry Pittock and Harvey Scott made Oregon a more hostile place for people of color.
• Concealed Consequences:  Editorials supported World War II incarceration of people of Japanese descent, and news coverage denigrated those targeted.

Therese Bottomly, executive editor of the Oregonian, deserves credit for enabling this introspection and, then, publishing what ensued, no matter the discredit that arose for the newspaper.

The current Editorial Board chimed in:

“As an editorial board, we often write about the importance of accountability when institutions or leaders make mistakes.  Acknowledging and accepting what went wrong in the past is key to correcting course in the future.

“That standard holds for us, as well.  ‘Publishing Prejudice: The Oregonian’s Racist Legacy’ has been horrifying and humbling to absorb. The decades-long pattern paints a picture of a news organization that downplayed lynching, supported incarcerating people of Japanese descent during World War II, embraced slurs and stereotypes in its news stories and editorials and sought to block basic rights for those who were not white and male.”

Here, from Bottomly, is a summary of the intense editing process for “Publishing Prejudice,” which stands as very different than normal editing:

“The Oregonian/OregonLive newsroom is not as racially and ethnically diverse as the community it serves, and the investigative reporter and investigative editor assigned to this project are white men.  To reduce implicit bias and enhance the stories, the newsroom created a novel, months-long review process to obtain iterative feedback from people of color before publication.

“Members of the newsroom’s diversity committee received drafts of the stories in June, providing valuable feedback on reporting, editing, and the project’s general direction.

“The Oregonian/OregonLive in July contracted with two former newsroom employees, Amy Wang and Eder Campuzano, who each had chaired the newsroom diversity committee.  They reviewed story drafts and provided important guidance, helping identify reporting holes, offering feedback on issues to expand or condense, and providing recommendations on ways to limit additional harm to communities of color through word choice and story framing.

“The newsroom contracted with five community members between August and October.  The panelists reviewed story drafts, providing perspectives the newsroom lacks, giving feedback to enhance the reporting with additional facts, and helping identify words or ideas that could perpetuate harm to communities of color.  The panelists are Oscar Arana, Brian Bull, Hong Mautz, Zachary Stocks, and Jillian Toda-Currie.

“The Oregonian/OregonLive maintained sole editorial discretion over the stories, and it accepted many, but not all, recommendations from outside consultants.”

I hope you will go on-line at oregon.live to read the stories on your own.  As they did in me, I also hope both stories will invoke a renewed commitment to diversity, acceptance, and tolerance, if not respect, for immigrants, refugees, or persons of a different skin color than your own.

The failure of several past Oregonian editors to reflect these qualities is beyond revolting.  Given my long history in Oregon, I remember some of the editor’s names.  What they did and what they wrote makes me say I would rather forget them and move on.

The story on the internment of Oregonians of Japanese descent particularly resonated with me.  For a specific reason.

This.  One of the persons emphasized in the story, Vicki Nakashima, is a former colleague of mine in Oregon state government.

We worked together closely at the Oregon Executive Department when both of us served, essentially, as deputy directorsl  Vicki had an assignment to recruit management staff with a specific eye to diversity and credentials.  She succeeded very well.  My assignment was to oversee media and related communications policy.

In one case, we co-directed a program – we called it simply, “The Good Ideas Program” – to ask for, receive and analyze good ideas from state employees, ideas about to improve workplaces and state programs.  We rewarded those whose good ideas were accepted.

Vicki was especially effective at recruiting employees to respond.

To put it simply, I learned a lot from her.

But, in point of fact, I did not know much about her history.

After the internment story broke, I talked with her.

When the Oregonian alerted her that it was starting its introspection, because, for one thing, the introspection focused on Vicki’s father, a victim of the Japanese internment policy in Oregon.  Vicki was not sure what to expect, wondering if it would just another case of false hope for clarity for past racism.

But, the editor, Bottomly, came across as genuine and, then, at one community meeting, she rose unannounced and provided a stirring and genuine apology to all those in the room.

As she has done several times, including in print, she said she “unreservedly apologized.”

So, read on and make your own appropriate commitment to genuine diversity and respect.

.  The week of October 2nd, the national art exhibit, “Resilience – A Sansei Sense of Legacy” opened at JAMO.  My cousin, Tom Nakashima is one of the artists and his pieces in the show were inspired by my father’s advocacy on behalf of the JA community. 

On October 5th, we had a “community meeting” about the importance of the art exhibit at OHS.  Without any announcement, Therese got up in front of me and gave a moving apology.  I still cry when I think about it.  Her staff (reporter and photographer) were also there and they told me they did not know she was going to do this.

POLITICAL DEBATES VERGE ON THE UNWATCHABLE AND IRRELEVANT

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

I must confess that I have not watched one political debate this election season, though I have read about them in newspapers.

Seems I haven’t missed much.  At least much that helps anyone – me, for example — decide how to vote.

Of course, I, like many of you remember watching various presidential debates when, for example:

• The elder George Bush made the mistake of checking his watch while he was on camera, as if to say, “are we done yet?” 
• In a vice-presidential debate, when Democrat Lloyd Bentsen skewered Republican Dan Quayle, by uttering a phrase which has lived since he said it in 1988, “Senator, you are no Jack Kennedy.”
• Or, back in 1960, when Jack Kennedy came across on TV far better than did the wan Richard Nixon.

As memorable occasions, these actually did not add much to my decision, back then, about how to vote.

Then, for today, Washington Post columnist Paul Waldman captured this reality yesterday when he wrote under this headline:  “Why candidate debates are so awful — and how to fix them.”

Here is how he started his column:

“This has been a big week for the mid-term elections, as debates among Senate and gubernatorial candidates were held in Pennsylvania, Michigan and Colorado.  There has been plenty of discussion about which candidates won, who had the worst ‘gaffe,’ what will show up in campaign ads, and whether it will all affect the election outcome.”

Which, he contended, “is exactly why candidate debates, as they’re practiced, are utterly terrible, both for voters and for democracy”

“The best you can say about them is that when most voters see the candidates in only 30-second TV ads or one-minute online videos, debates offer the most extended look we get at them.  But everything about the debates’ format — which is almost identical in every race, as though it has been handed down on stone tablets — makes them worse.”

Waldman contends that, at their most fundamental level, “debates are terrible because it is now taken for granted that they should be seen as a performance, meaning we judge the candidates as though they were figure skaters at the Olympics.  Oops, Mehmet Oz bobbled the landing on that triple salchow, that’s a major deduction!  Why would we think this helps us understand who would do a better job in office?”

The fact is, Waldman add, debates are unlike anything officeholders will do in their job, until two or four years into a job when they run for re-election and debate again.  

He offers a prescription for meaningful change.

• Let the candidates sit down.
• Let them bring notes.  Whether a candidate remembers all eight points of his or her economic plan at a moment of stress is less important than whether the plan is a good one.
• Focus on a single-issue area — economics, public safety, domestic programs, climate change — so we can explore ideas in depth rather than skating over dozens of areas without much substance.
• And, for the journalists who participate:  Forget about surprising the candidates, or encouraging them to attack each other, or asking why one of them is struggling in the polls, or creating dramatic moments.

Which brings us, Waldman continues, to perhaps the most fundamental problem with debates:  They’re constructed around the needs and preferences of the already shallow way campaigns are conducted.

“Few voters watch the debates.  Instead, they see snippets that get re-played on the news or in ads.  Which means that the debate gets reprocessed through the news media, with all their pathologies.

“If you were a candidate with a compelling argument about health-care reform that takes three or four minutes to lay out, but you knew that all people would ever see of it is an eight-second clip, what would you do? You would distill it to a single zippy sentence, even if that sentence couldn’t begin to explain your full argument.

“What if you further knew that clips that get played on the news almost always involve conflict, the nastier the better?  You would forget about your compelling argument and come up with a clever insult to toss at your opponent.  Which is exactly what they do.”

The only appropriate response is, Waldman says, is “who cares?”

I agree. 

Unless debate formats change – and they are not likely to do so – I say choose another approach to decide how to vote.  Such as reading about public policy positions in various newspapers rather than watching and waiting for gaffes.

THIS PERVERSION IS BEYOND SCARY

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

There is something going on in this country called the “Re-Awaken America Tour.”

Don’t take the neutral, positive sounding term at face value.

What it is, according to the Washington Post, is a series of events around the country to rally folks to the side of Donald Trump, as he continues to pollute politics with his drivel.

Trouble is what is occurring is beyond scary.

Trump, to the applause of many, is mixing his version of polluted politics with his version of polluted Christianity. 

Not applause from me.  My disdain.

Here is the headline on the Post story:  “Right-wing roadshow promotes Christian nationalism before mid-terms.”

Trump and his ilk continue to play God.  He and his minions call people to support Trump as if he is a god and, to put a major point on it, even baptize people into their Trump status. 

Talk about perverting the Gospel, that’s it.

Here is the start of the Post story:

“MANHEIM, Pennsylvania. — At the end, after former president Donald Trump called in to energize the troops, more than 100 people lined up to be baptized.

“Some had driven hours for the two-day Re-Awaken America Tour in the leafy Pennsylvania countryside.  Some had paid up to $500 for VIP tickets. They were 5,000 strong, celebratory but angry about where the country is headed.  They said they believed the 2020 election was stolen, that vaccines kill people, and that America — both its moral and civic foundation — is headed for complete collapse.

“Now they were waiting to be baptized in a black plastic animal trough, leaving the water soaked and shivering — newly cleansed soldiers in their war for America.

“Since April of last year, the Re-Awaken America Tour has brought hardline-election deniers, anti-vaccine doctors, self-proclaimed prophets, and conspiracy theorists to enthusiastic crowds across the country.  The central message is that America’s white, evangelical Christian way of life is under threat from the globalist cabal on the ‘woke’ left.

“The traveling carnival of misinformation merges entertainment, politics and theology and makes the existential argument to those attending:  The debate is no longer about Republican vs. Democrat, they say, it’s about good vs. evil.  And it’s time to pick a side.

“In this world, as one adherent put it, elections are now ‘selections,’ fact-checkers are now ‘fake checkers,’ coronavirus is still the ‘China virus,’ and Trump is still the rightful president.”

Say what?

What Trump and his minions are propounding is not the real “gospel.”

It is in a word — perversion.

Baptism should be reserved for real Christianity as an outward show that a person has accepted Jesus Christ as Savior.  It’s not an entitlement with any bearing on politics.

So, what’s the real gospel?  This:

• God loves you.  He created you.  His love is boundless and unconditional.
• But sin separates you from God, so He made a way for you to become a child of God.  Accept Jesus’ free gift of salvation.
• Then, show your true character as a child of God by loving others, including those less fortunate than you, including immigrants, refugees, and persons who don’t share the color of your skin.

Just try to convey these truths to Trump and his minions.  They won’t listen as they try to build up “White America.”  But, so what.

They are wrong.  God is right.

“I’LL VOTE FOR THE LESSER OF EVILS, IF THERE IS ONE”

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

In an essay in this morning’s Wall Street Journal, Joseph Epstein hit the nail on the head, to use a hackneyed phrase.  I borrowed his headline, which appeared over his essay, for this blog.

Here is the sub-head:

“In the governor’s campaign, heads Illinois loses; tails, it also loses. Ditto in the last two presidential races.”

That’s exactly the way I often feel when it comes time to vote.  Heads you lose.  Tails you losse. 

Like Epstein, “I am one of those American political misfits known as an independent voter.”

Epstein add this:

“I voted for Barack Obama over John McCain in 2008.  Four years later I pulled the lever for Mitt Romney.  I didn’t vote in the last two presidential elections because none of the candidates were people I wanted to lead the country.  I find little reassuring in either of the political parties, whose members collectively strike me as ignorant, sanctimonious, meshugana.”

Which is a word I have not heard before.  Here, according to the dictionary is what it means:  “Nonsense; silliness; craziness; garbage; a person who is silly or crazy; a jackass.”

And Epstein continues:

“My non-affiliation frees me from the obligation to defend the nuttiness of Marjorie Taylor Greene or the anti-Semitism of Ilhan Omar.  I like to think it also provides a certain perspective unavailable to those locked into party loyalty.”

When I told a friend of mine the other day that I was toying with not voting in a particular race here in Oregon, he said avoiding a vote was “unethical.” 

I strongly disagree.  Not voting in a particular actually is, for me, an ethical decision.

It indicates that I cannot, in good faith, support either candidate whose name appears on the ballot.

So, for me, that leaves two ethical options – not voting or writing in someone’s name.

To buttress his own “independent” stance, Epstein says this:

“All I look for in candidates is that they constitute a lesser evil than their opponents.  Evidence of this often isn’t easily detected.  In the current race for Illinois governor, which pits incumbent J.B. Pritzker against state Senator Darren Bailey, detection of the lesser evil is all but impossible.  In a recent televised debate, each man called the other a liar, which struck me as one of the few times that evening when both of them told the truth.

“When it comes to voting for one or the other of these Periclean figures, I must remember to bring along a coin when I step into the voting booth. Heads Illinois loses; tails, it also loses.”

For me, voting is exactly what a citizen should do in every election.  It is a hallmark of citizenship.

But, one’s own ethical standards should be paramount.  And, if that means, not voting in a particular race, so be it.

I report this after having in Oregon’s election.  So what is done is done.

MORE INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT GOLF: AT LEAST THEY ARE TO ME

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

Why are there 18 holes on a golf course? 

Why not 14?  Why not 15?  Why not 9?

That question has struck me lately as, to put it mildly, I have too much time on my hands, some of which is taken up by walking around a park-like atmosphere charging after a white – or sometimes yellow – sphere.

Well, to answer the question, I did what many people do these days, which is to consult Mr. Google.

Here is what he said:

“In 1764, golfers at St Andrews (in Scotland) decided to combine the first four short holes into two, to produce a round of 18 holes, though it was still 10 holes of which 8 were played twice.  Thus was born the 18-hole round, though it would be about 100 hundred years before there were 18 holes in general, as other courses followed suit.

“By the mid-19th century, the standard was for golf courses to have 18 holes and, in 1858, the Royal & Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews made the rules formal and stated, “One round of the Links, or 18 holes is reckoned a match, unless otherwise stipulated.”

Early golf courses, especially in the “home of golf,” Scotland, actually varied in number of holes.  Even St Andrews had 22 at one point.

This “huge issue” crossed my mind the other day as friends of mine enticed me to play 9 holes, instead of 18. 

No problem.  Nine holes is fine, too, but, yes, 18 holes makes a competitive golf round.  Nine, obviously, doesn’t take as long – in fact, about exactly half as long.  Still fun and good golf.

Another golf question crossed my mind as I walked around the course:  Why do various results in golf use bird terms, such as: 

• Birdie for one-under-par on a hole.

• Eagle for two under par.

• Albatross for a two on a par 5.

• Condor for a hole-in-one on a par 5.

Also, if you want a question, with an answer for a trivia game, use this.  What do you call a hole-in-one on a par 5?  Answer, as above:  Condor.

As for why bird terms in general, I have no idea other than this quick fact from Mr. Google:  “In the 19th century, the term ‘bird’ was the equivalent of ‘cool’ or ‘excellent,’ so that term was attached to golf” — and other bird names  followed.

For me, have I made birdie and eagle?  Yes, over the years.  As for making an albatross, no.  And condor, also no.  No surprise with either of the latter, VERY rare in golf.

*********

Oh yeah, one other non-golf update.  My wife and I voted yesterday, performing an important civic duty.  While we sat together at our dining our dining room table, we voted individually, perhaps offsetting each other in the process in a few races.

So, vote!

MEMORABLE FIRST HOLE TEE SHOTS ON A GOLF COURSE

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

My most recent on-line issue of Links Magazine got me thinking about a subject that might not have crossed my mind, save for the magazine.

This:  Opening tee shots on a golf course.

One of my favorite golf writers, George Peper (he wrote the great book, Two Years in St. Andrews), comes up with this lead for his story:

“The first hole of a golf course is rarely memorable, but it never fails to arouse emotion.

“Can you think of a patch of ground — on the golf course or anywhere else — that consistently boils up such a complex cauldron of emotions as does the 1^st tee?

“Hope and trepidation, determination and doubt, impatience and paranoia, excitement, and tension.

“For many of us, it’s a case of dueling desires:  We can’t wait to hit that first tee shot and we can’t wait to get it over with.  As an aside, I’ve always wondered why The First Tee, a program dedicated to making the game inviting to kids, would name itself after the single most intimidating place on the course.

“Endlessly fascinating, the first tee is, to paraphrase Forrest Gump, like a box of chocolates—you never know what you’re gonna get.  We bound to the blocks brimming with optimism yet ever-mindful that the carnival could end in seconds when the curtain rises on a four-hour drama fraught with agony as well as joy.”

With Peper’s article in mind, I thought of the 1^st tee at Illahe Hills Golf and Country Club in Salem Oregon where I play most of my golf and have done so for more than 30 years.

I tell my friends that I never get tired of playing onthe course, given the various situations you’ll face on one of the best tracks in the state.

But, the first hole?

It is “pretty” routine. 

Note the word “pretty.”  I mean to say that, while the 1^st hole is a short par 4, there are several penalty areas beckoning – two bunkers on either side of the hole in what would be the landing area for a solid drive, water to the right on the drive, and a green that slopes, as many do at Illahe, steeply from back to front.  And there are greenside bunkers, too.

So, I have found that a par on the 1^st hole is a solid score.

Further, when you hit your tee shot on the 1^st you are only about 50 feet or so in front of the ground floor pro shop (with its windows) and the next floor where windows front the restaurant.  So, everyone there can see your tee shot.

Are they looking?  Probably not.  But the fact that they could be looking adds to the nerves.

Here are selected excerpts from Peper’s story:

• Mind you, in most cases all this turmoil (on the 1^st tee) is largely of our own doing.  Rarely does the first hole present a particularly formidable challenge or even an arresting moment.  Consider that in GOLF Magazine’s The World’s 500 Greatest Golf Holes only 12 of those holes are openers. Indeed, some magnificent courses — Pebble Beach, Turnberry, Teeth of the Dog, Crooked Stick, Medinah No. 3, Fishers Island — start with par fours that could be described most kindly as unremarkable.
• If the designers of those and so many other courses were alive, they’d likely point to the long-held dictum that a good golf course begins with a “friendly handshake,” a straightforward assignment with no heavy lifting.  And I can’t argue that it’s wise marketing to keep us dogged victims happy for at least the first few minutes of play. Nevertheless, first holes are rarely first rate.
• Another reason for this is that the first tee is usually hard by the clubhouse, on a piece of land that was chosen, not because it was the best golf terrain, but because it was the best place to put that building.  Often the role of the first hole is to get the heck away from that place, to do whatever’s necessary to escape the parking lot, tennis courts, and swimming pool and reach some proper ground for golf.

All that being said, Peper adds, “there are a few rare courses where the first tee (actually the entire first hole) lives up to its turbulence, either by presenting an assignment in nerve-jangling terror or through the sheer glory of its setting and vista.”

One he cites is Machrihanish in Scotland.

On one of my trips to Scotland with my wife, Nancy, along as tour guide and much more, I had the privilege of playing Machrihanish.  It has an intimidating 1^st tee shot and 17 great holes after that.

Incredibly, you have you have hit your drive over part of the ocean.  Plus, you have to carry it more than 225 yards to clear the water and reach the fairway.

On the day I played, we had a tee time, but Nancy and I arrived at the course just as three foursomes were getting ready to tee off.  With normal Scottish courtesy, they let us go ahead.

So, with a gallery of at least 12, I prepared for my tee shot.  In the spirit of full disclosure, I hit it well, cleared the water (barely) and went on to the thrill of golf on one of Scotland’s storied links.  With Nancy by my side, we had great, memorable four or five hours walking around in her parents’ homeland.

First hole jitters, there and back home?  Of course.  But, yes, worth it – at Machrinihanish in Scotland, or at Illahe Hills in Salem.

WHAT DOES “OFF-THE-RECORD” MEAN?

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

This blog headline relates to the continuing kerfuffle (don’t you like that word, which sort of rolls of the tongue?) between pro golfer Phil Mickelson and a writer of his biography, Alan Shipnuck.

The kerfuffle (there’s that word again) revolves around the definition of a term, “off-the-record.”

I happen to know what the phrase means

This is so because of:  (a) my past work as a daily newspaper reporter, and (b) my role in Oregon state government as a manager assigned to deal with the media.  [In my 25 years as a lobbyist, I also dealt frequently with “off-the-record” issues.]

The phrase means this:

Both sides must agree in advance to go “off-the-record.”  The interviewer and the person being interviewed must reach that agreement and it must be well understood by both sides before anyone says anything or writes anything.  Off-the-record means that a source will not be quoted.

In the case of a source for a story, an individual cannot contend  “off-the-record” is in force just because he or she didn’t like how he or she was quoted.

And, on the other side – the writer – cannot just violate an “off-the-record” agreement because it suits himself or herself to do so.

If a writer does so, he won’t be a good, reputable writer for long.

When I have dealt with “off-the-record” issues over the years – and there have been many such cases on both sides of the issue – I always had an IRON-CLAD GUARANTEE before saying anything or reporting anything.  I also had to trust that the other side would live up to its commitments.

Further, regarding Mickelson, who used to be one of my favorite pro golfers, I have said before that I had hoped he would work within the PGA Tour to effect change.  He could have done so given his long-earned status on the Tour.

Instead, he went to LIV golf, which is funded by the tainted Saudi Defense Fund. 

I wish Mickelson wouldn’t have left a pro golf tour that had done so much for him, including providing him a world-class competitive golf stage. 

So, what happened in the case of the Mickelson and Shipnuck kerfuffle?

We’ll never know because we weren’t there.  But, it has been interesting to note how Mickelson has described the situation.  He has never said something like – “I had an advance, iron-clad agreement with the reporter that what I was saying was off-the-record, and then he violated that agreement.”

An interesting, if not telling, omission.

JUST IMAGINE…

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

Michael Gerson, one of my favorite writers going today – his work appears usually in the Washington Post – produced a long essay a day or so ago to decry the linkage between “real Christianity” and Donald Trump’s rabid appeal to the “religious right.”

I cannot do justice to Gerson’s words, so read all of them for yourself in a long essay I credit the Washington Post for publishing.

In one part of his essay, Gerson provides a list of what he calls, “Imagine if today’s believers were to live out the full implications of their faith.”

Here is the list, which is worthy of study and contemplation:

• Instead of fighting for narrow advantage, they would express their love of neighbor by seeking the common good and rejecting a view of greatness that makes others small.
• Instead of being entirely captive to their cultural background, they would have enough critical distance to sort the good from the bad, the gold from the sand.  This might leave them uncomfortable within their own tribe or their own skin — but the moral landscape is often easier to see from the periphery.
• Instead of being ruled by anger and fear, they would live lightly, free from grudges and ready to offer forgiveness — thus preserving the possibility of future reconciliation and concord.
• Instead of turning to violence in word or deed, they would assert the power of unarmed truth.  They would engage in argument without slander or threats — demonstrating not wokeness or weakness, but due regard for our shared dignity.
• Instead of being arrogant and willful, they would approach hard issues with humility, recognizing that even the most compelling principles are applied by fallible men and women.  They would know that people who esteem the same ideal can come to different policy conclusions — and be open to the possibility of changing their own mind.
• Instead of ignoring the cries of the ill, poor, and abused, they would honor the unerasable image of God we see in one another.  Believers don’t accept a society divided by rank or dominated by the illusion of merit — they seek to subvert such stratification in constructive ways, to prioritize justice and common provision for people in need.
• Instead of giving in to half-justified despair, they would assert that there is hope at the end of a twisting road.  Even when their strength is drained by long struggle and the bitterness of incoming attacks, they would live confidently rather than desperately, with faith in God’s mercy and hope for a tearless morning.

So, just imagine!

I will as a real Christian who deplores the depth to which Trump will go to aggrandize himself, even as, incredibly, he gains new sycophants.

This morning, however, I thank Gerson for summarizing real Christianity in such a compelling and transparent way.