Golfing with the Derdzinskis

By Patrick F. Cannon

Last week, I played nine holes of golf and had lunch with three of my nieces, daughters of my late wife Jeanette’s sister, Mary Derdzinski and her late husband John. During the luncheon conversation, when talking about this weekly blog, one kiddingly suggested I do one titled “Golfing  with the Derdzinskis.” So, here it is.

            For the record, their married names are Beth Edwards, Julie Donzelli and Sue Ellen Vozza (left to right in the photo). In the interests of full disclosure, I rode the golf cart with Beth, who shot a 41 (even with an 8 on one hole) to my 43. I don’t know what Julie and Sue Ellen shot, but both of them hit the ball farther than me. Ah, youth! I would not hazard a guess as to their ages, but they were all teens when I first met them a bit more than 35 years ago. Most of my nieces’ own children have already graduated from college, a couple are married, and others have set wedding dates. As you can see from the photo, these three have aged well!

            I actually have seven nieces from Jeanette’s family. The eldest of the Derdzinskis is Karen Fitzpatrick. Jeanette’s sister, Gerri Ciucci and her late husband Dominic, had three daughters: Mara Thanos, Laura Tyler and Michelle Woodring.

            This “Golfing” piece has given me an opportunity to say something about the importance of family. When you marry into a family, you often just don’t know how you’ll be accepted. Jeanette’s family not only accepted, but embraced me. If you the read “Dear Amy” in the Chicago Tribune, as I do, you’ll have read many horror stories about the “in-laws from hell.” I lucked out. My own family and friends have also been all that I could have hoped for and more.  

            This became particularly important when Jeanette was diagnosed with leukemia in August, 2018. Although she was eventually cured  of that, she was diagnosed with an unrelated brain tumor in January of last year, which took her from us in February. During the entire  time of her  illnesses, her nieces supported her (and me) in every way they could. They made regular visits to the hospitals – where she spent a total of three months – to our home and, in the last seven months, to the assisted-living facility where she died. She was never alone, not even for a single day.

            (I see I have used the adjective “late” several times in this article. In the last couple of years, many people close to me have died: my wife; my brother; my best friend’s wife; both of my brothers-in-law; a close friend and golfing buddy; and a member of my book group, among others. At my age, this is expected. All the more reason to cherish the friends and family who are left, even if they do outhit you on the golf course!)

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

Electricity Made Simple

By Patrick F. Cannon

The fact that everything is more complicated than I  think it is has never stopped me from trying to make sense of it all. Take President Biden’s recent trip to Saudi Arabia. Despite saying during his campaign for president that they should be branded as “pariahs,” he sucked it up and went there hat in hand  because they still have a lot of oil and are sworn enemies of our enemy, Iran. I’m on record as saying that individual sportsmen should shun Saudi money, but countries have different priorities and moralities, don’t they?

            I don’t pretend to understand the petroleum market, but I do suspect that if everyone pumped at capacity, there would be a glut on the market and prices would fall. Shortages of oil – or rice, corn or soybeans for that matter – will have the opposite effect. We are feeling that now. Although prices have begun to slowly decrease in the great state of Illinois, regular still costs about $5.50 a gallon. We encourage the Saudis to produce more because we import about 40 percent of the oil we need, despite actually being able to produce what we need here.

            Let me repeat that. We could produce all the oil we need. But what happens? When the Republicans are in power, the oil flows. When the Democrats take over, they do everything possible to stop the flow. Pipelines that are essentially finished are never used. Drilling permits are denied. Environmentalists cheer! Progressives cheer! I pay more for gasoline for my car, fuel to heat my home, and electricity to do just about everything else. It is just one more example of how ideology gets in the way of practical solutions. And, by the way, it’s becoming clear that the Supreme Court is going to force the Congress to actually legislate, not only about abortion, but the environment as well.  Strangely enough, however, we have made progress despite the political backing and forthing.

            In the long term, we have every reason to wean ourselves from fossil fuels; and not only to halt obvious global warming, but to improve the air we breathe. In fact, we are already doing so. In the year 2000, 85 percent of our electricity was generated from fossil fuels; last year, 61 percent. Coal’s share is now 21 percent; with natural gas at 39. In 2000, coal’s share was 51.5 percent. For the record, renewables – mainly including wind, solar and hydro – have increased to 20 percent from less than 5 percent in 2000. Nuclear produces about 19 percent of our electricity.

            For the short term, we should subsidize technologies like wind and solar. As volume and costs of production decrease, as they already are, the subsidies should be phased out. This is already happening in the electric vehicle market. Although the average cost is still about $10,000 higher than gas-powered, you can get one with a range of 250 miles for about $31,000. The same thing is happening for home-installed solar panels. In fact, I think local governments should require solar systems in all new construction, including multi-family.

            One barrier to increasing solar, wind (and yes, nuclear) power is the old “not in my neighborhood” movement. I seem to recall that the rich folks who summer on Martha’s Vineyard  Island off the coast of Massachusetts objected to wind turbines in the waters near that exclusive enclave. Would spoil their view, they claimed. Others object to solar arrays for similar reasons. What if they had to live near a coal-fueled generating plant?

By the way, the fossil fuel folks have every incentive to find a way to eliminate carbon dioxide from their emissions. Another source with potential is hydro power, mostly produced by dams. Now at about 7 percent, it may be increasingly possible to harness river flow and tides to generate power.

Despite the claims and wishes of environmental radicals, the elimination of fossil fuel emissions is going to take decades, not years. A realistic goal? 2050? 2060? I don’t know, but the trend has already begun. In 20 years, we’ve reduced fossil fuel use by 25 percent, and the use of renewables is accelerating apace. Who’s to say that today’s 61 percent might be 20 percent by 2050 by just letting science and the market do their work? Now, if we could just get cows to stop farting, and the Chinese and Indians to do their share!

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

Stop! You’re Driving Me Crazy!

By Patrick F. Cannon

I belong to several organizations and subscribe to a couple of magazines. What all of them have in common is the annoying practice of trying to encourage you to renew your membership or subscription long before they’re due to expire. You may think they do this because they’re unorganized or scatterbrained. No, they do it hoping you’ll forget when the actual renewal is due, and mindlessly send the money along early. I believe the idea is to keep doing this until you’ve paid enough for a lifetime subscription or membership. Perhaps if you die before they expire, the  remaining time can be added to your estate?

It’s also getting hard to be charitable about charities. Once you donate, the deluge begins. You can expect new solicitations to come at least monthly. Mostly, I just consign them to the recycle pile unopened. After the paper is recycled, no doubt it comes back eventually in a new plea for funds. By the way, I don’t feel the least guilty about using the stuff (nickels, dimes, quarters, note pads, pens, greeting cards, etc.) that they send to encourage donations. In recent months, I’ve even gotten socks and garden gloves. Garden gloves? What genius thought that one up? Eventually, after 10 or 20 years, they give up (unless you weaken and donate again).

 What would the Postal Service do without them, or the catalogs that fill our mailboxes? Aside from the occasional greeting card and bill, what else is there? I live in a condo building which has recycling bins in the garage, so when I pick up my mail, I often go directly there to unload the unwanted catalogs and other solicitations. Saves me a trip. As it happens, if you never order from the catalogs, eventually they get the message and drop you from the list. They cost a lot more to print and mail than a letter, even one with unwanted greeting cards.

 By the way, you probably know that most organizations are only too  happy to  sell their mailing (and email) lists. Many years ago, I did some very modest direct mail campaigns. I got friendly with a rep of a direct-mail specialist company. Although all this would now be available digitally, in those days you referred to a catalog of available lists. It was as big as the Chicago phone book (you do remember phone books, don’t you?). Most organizations sold their lists, and still do. You can’t escape! Give to the VFW, and don’t be surprised if you get a solicitation from the Bereft Veterans of the Grenada Rescue Operation.

 Perhaps most annoying of all are the phone calls. Does any day go by without you getting at least two or three annoying calls for products or services you don’t want (and may be phony anyway). How often can one be told that one’s car warranty is expiring (for the record, my car is 11 years old). I notice that many of these calls come from local area codes, and even have my local exchange number.

To make sure you don’t miss real calls, you almost have to memorize the phone numbers of friends and relatives. By the way, I regularly register with the National Do Not Call Registry of the Federal Trade Commission, which I suspect is yet another of the government agencies whose employees spend their days not answering the phone.

While I’m in a complaining mood, let me also once again berate the Chicago network affiliates of ABC, CBS and NBC (which are owned by those networks) for using their news programs to promote parent company entertainment programs and films. During a 30 minute local news program, only about 22 minutes of the 30  don’t have commercials. Weather forecasts – why are there more than one? – consume another four or five minutes, leaving maybe 16 for actual news. Let me use WLS-TV, the ABC station, as an example,  while pointing out that the other Chicago stations do much the same.

As it happens, ABC is part of the Disney entertainment colossus. Disney operates the famous theme parks; has a regular and streaming channel; and also owns Pixar, Marvel Studios, Lucasfilm, 20^th Century and Searchlight Pictures. And it’s also a major producer of Broadway musicals. Obviously, it could afford to pay for commercials, but instead insists that its ABC local stations treat the opening of a new movie (for example) as news, thus reducing the time available for real news even further.  

I wonder if journalism schools now teach a mandatory course called “How to read non-news with a smile on your face.” If not, maybe Disney can fund a chair in Entertainment News. As it happens, most of the folks at WLS-TV are graduates of either the University of Illinois or the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern University. I’m sure either would happily take the dough.

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

Play Balls!

By Patrick F. Cannon

(Some readers may find  this article offensive. They are thus warned and may wish to check out the Hallmark Channel for something more wholesome.)

I was watching a rerun of Law and Order on We-Tv the other day (it also regularly appears on BBC America and the Sundance Channel in case you’re desperate for good courtroom drama), when it was interrupted by a commercial for a product I was until then unaware of – the Ballsy trimmer. The quite attractive young lady spokesperson was quite open about the trimmer’s purpose; it was, as she so delicately put it, meant to remove unwanted hair from a man’s “balls.”

            Many of my readers, I am sure, will have led rather sheltered lives, so I will attempt, with as much discretion as I can, to provide a more scientific definition of what is actually meant by “balls.”  It describes the basic shape of a man’s testicles, which hang below the penis and are protected by a sac called the scrotum. The testes themselves are what produce sperm and testosterone. Needless to say, they have a role to play in the survival of our species. While all this may be news to you, younger generations are taught all of this in preschool.

            As it happens, both the male and female genitalia are usually covered with what is known as pubic hair. It is actually there as a protective barrier. Unfortunately, as bathing suits and ladies undies became skimpier, it was thought to be unsightly, so the practice of at least trimming that part that showed above the top of the bikini bottom became common. Eventually, many women decided to go all the way and do away with the hair entirely. As usual, an internet search provided me with more information than I needed (or wanted) on this trend. Oh, and that some men eventually joined the hairless horde.

            Ballsy also has an extensive web site. In addition to their groundbreaking trimmers, they also sell a wide variety of “personal hygiene” products. Of course, such products for women have been advertised for quite a few years. These ads have been so discrete that it’s not always clear just what the products are for. At any rate, one is used to advertisements for women’s hygiene and beauty products. The airwaves are full of ads for hair dye, face creams, wrinkle minimizers, perfumes, and make up of a bewildering variety.

For a man’s genitals, Ballsy provides not only its trimmer, but these other essential products: “Ball Wash” (Nuts, Butt and Body Wash); “Sack Spray” (Neutralizes Odor); and “Nut Rub” (Solid Cologne). By the way, I didn’t make any of this up. It’s all on their web site.

Now it’s true that men of means and/or unusual sexual proclivities have, in certain historic periods, been just as vain as women; perhaps even more so. By the time I came along, however, I can’t recall my father ever using anything but deodorant and after shave. He also used shaving cream. As for me, I also use deodorant, but manage to shave with regular face soap as lather, and haven’t used after shave  for some 50 years. I confess I do use a moisturizer on my face, as my skin has gotten drier as I’ve aged.

I should have seen this trend coming when ads for male perfumes began appearing during the holiday season. Seeing an opportunity, brands such as Chanel and Christian Dior entered the market with male scents. Chanel has Blue de Chanel and Egoiste; Dior offers Sauvage and Homme. A 3.5 oz. spray bottle of any of them will set a fellow back about $140.00. By the way, the men who appear in these ads all seem muscular, pouty, and with no visible body hair.

In contrast, the male models who appear in magazine fashion spreads all seem to be suffering from malnutrition (as do the women); and are wearing clothes that they must have bought when they were four inches shorter and 20 pounds lighter. Did I mention the tattoos?

To me, the ideal man has always been Gary Cooper. Would he wear perfume and be a regular Ballsy customer? The man who faced the bad guys in High Noon? Who would rather spend his time hunting and fishing? Who rarely wore a suit, but when he did, it fit? Not on your life. After all, what’s wrong with the daily use of simple soap and water?

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

Upon Whose Authority?

By Patrick F. Cannon

I have often wondered just who makes these decisions. Is it some government agency? Or the Associated Press? Perhaps it’s the University of Chicago and the folks who do their famous Style Book. Or could it be one of the eminent dictionary publishers, like Oxford University or our own Merriam-Webster? In France, it would certainly be the Académie Francaise, but the English language has no such authority.

Someone must be in charge, when suddenly an individual person demands to be referred to with the pronoun “they” —  when it’s clear they are demonstrably either male or female – and the news media and many others immediately comply. Just the other day, in the Chicago Tribune, the subject of a front-page article was a single mother “who identifies as pansexual, bisexual, queer,” and “whose pronouns are she/they.” 

Since I wasn’t yet familiar with the term “pansexual,” I looked it up and discovered it was someone who was attracted to anyone, including (but presumably not limited to) straight men and women; gay men and lesbians; bisexuals; transgender people of both sexes; queers; and folks not interested in sex with anyone. Admittedly, I’m not entirely up to date on these things, but would not “pansexual” include “bisexual,” making the latter superfluous?

Of course, it doesn’t pay to be too much of a stickler these days. When you point out that nearly 100 percent of humans are unambiguously born male or female, you risk being considered  hopelessly unwoke. The younger generations are also surprised when they discover that they didn’t invent the numerous ways in which humans express their sexuality. They just invented new words to describe them, as if the old ones just weren’t doing the job to their satisfaction. And, whether we like it our not, they’re happy to shout their sexuality from the rooftops!

I suspect the majority of my fellow English speakers will continue to use the pronouns that were developed over the centuries. As a writer, the thought of writing a sentence like “Nancy came into the room and they decided to sit on the couch,” is anathema, and needlessly confusing. If the Chicago Tribune and New York Times wish to re-invent the language, they’ll have to do it without me.

I mentioned the Académie Francaise above. One of the members was the French novelist Jean Dutourd (1920-2011), a hero of the Resistance and the author of dozens of books in his long life. I actually read one of them in the mid-1950s. Titled A Dog’s Head in its English translation, I can still recall being drawn to it at the McKeesport, Pennsylvania Carnegie Library by its cover. On it was a dapper fellow dressed in suit and tie, with a pair of horned-rimmed glasses on his face, a lit cigarette in his hand. Oh, it wasn’t any of that that caught my attention. It was that he had the head of an adorable spaniel.

He wasn’t the result of bestiality (I wonder if that’s included under pansexuality?). His mother and father were just a normal French couple of the bourgeoisie class. As I recall (and I wasn’t really then educated and sophisticated enough to fully understand it) the point was that most people weren’t  prepared to accept someone different than themselves. In its French way, it was a plea for tolerance. A valuable lesson then and now.

If such a creature appeared among us today, what pronouns would we use? Strictly speaking, non-human animals are described as “it” in the singular. Since we tend to be goofy about our animals, most people use “he” or “she” as if they were human.  But what of someone with a spaniels head? Using “it” as the base, can I suggest ‘heit’ for males and “sheit” for females? But perhaps you have a better idea?

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

P.S. I was suddenly reminded of the late cartoonist Walt Kelly’s character, Pogo. He was a possum who lived in a  swamp with assorted characters. For Earth Day in 1970, Kelly did a poster, in which little Pogo laments “ We have met the enemy and he is us.” I’m sure the editors of our famous newspapers would now change it.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Politicians!

By Patrick F. Cannon

I’ve often complained that one’s choice  on election day in many areas of Illinois is quite limited, particularly for primary elections. You might be asked to “vote for five” candidates for Commissioner of Alley Beautification, only to discover that only five candidates appear on the ballot. Or you’ll discover that many worthies are running unopposed.

            Even in cases where there is a contest, if the incumbent does little or no advertising, it’s a good bet he or she will find favor with the voters. This is the case in the Illinois 7^th Congressional District (one of the more gerrymandered districts in the USA), where incumbent Danny Davis has spent very little to defend an office he’s held for 26 years. His main opponent in the upcoming primary, Kina Collins, hasn’t spent much money either, no doubt because she doesn’t have any. So, even though we often don’t have much choice in some of our elections, at least we don’t have to put up with the endless commercials that feature in races where there is actual competition.

            But if there is a contest, and the candidates have some dough, the negative commercials will clog the airwaves right up to and even on election day. If the commercials were actually accurate, the subjects should be before a judge and jury, not the voters. It’s hard to  believe that anyone would vote for these charlatans and felons! Take the contest for the Democratic nomination for Illinois Secretary of State.

            As Illinoisans will know, 87-year-old Jesse White is throwing in the towel after only 23 years on the job. Hankering after this job-rich office are former State Treasure Alexi Giannoulias and current Chicago City Clerk Anna Valencia. (Let’s call them Alexi and Anna, so I won’t have to keep typing the last names.) Some of Alexi’s commercials show him playing basketball (he once played professionally in Europe) with little kids. He also wants you to know he used to play pickup games with former President Obama. Positive stuff this. But other commercials supporting him paint Anna as being investigated for trying to throw business to her lobbyist husband. Alexi doesn’t appear in these commercials, presumably because he’s too busy  buying ice cream for the little kiddies.

Anna does appear in commercials that, on the flimsiest of evidence, infer that Alexi once said something nice about a Republican who supports Donald Trump; and that he must be pro-life for a similar reason. Of course, Alexi has always professed disdain for Trump; and has, as a good Democrat, been solidly pro-choice. But you have to give Anna credit – she’s actually willing to stare at the camera and shamelessly lie with a straight face.

            Then we have the race for the Republican nomination for Illinois governor. The two main contenders for the Republican nomination are former prosecutor and current Aurora mayor Richard Irwin; and farmer and legislator Darren Bailey. Irwin has benefited from the support of Illinois’ richest man, Ken Griffin, who has pumped some $45 million into his campaign. Interestingly, the Democratic Party has actually paid for commercials that oppose Irvin and support Darren Bailey. Apparently, they think Governor Pritzker, who is essentially unopposed in the primary, would have a better chance of re-election in November if opposed by Bailey.

             Recent polls suggest that Democrat money may have had an impact, since Bailey now leads Irwin. My theory is that negative commercials have convinced Republican voters that Irwin thinks – as one commercial states – that Trump is an “idiot.” Bailey’s commercials show he and his wife smilingly posing with Trump at some fund raiser. My guess is that most downstate Republicans still revere Trump, who, by the way, is no idiot. But he is a lying, dishonest, malevolent narcissist.

            I have the impression that intelligent voters largely ignore the more negative and dishonest ads. There was a time when reporters confronted candidates about the biggest whoppers, which were typically sponsored by political action committees (PACs), which legally must have no direct relationship with the candidates they support. This enabled (and enables) candidates to claim they have no control over the ads. Notice, however, that they never disavow them, which they could easily do.

            Students of history will know that this kind of negative campaigning is nothing new, just more intrusive in our daily lives. You might want to check the Thomas Jefferson/John Adams campaign of 1800 to see how it was done in the “good old days.”  Jefferson’s agents even spread the rumor that Adams was a hermaphrodite! How’s that for negative campaigning?

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

I’m Too Old

By Patrick F. Cannon

I’m 84, and I think I’m too old to be president of the United States. And I think Joe Biden is too old to be president now, and certainly would be in 2024 if he decides to run again. Ditto Donald Trump, although age isn’t his only disqualification.

            In 2028, when the next term ends, Biden would be 86, and Trump 81. And they’re not the only ones that have passed their sell-by date. Nancy Pelosi is 82, and Mitch McConnell – who may well be Senate majority leader come January of next year – has turned 80. The average age of senators is now the oldest ever. My congressman, the venerable Danny Davis, is 80 and running for re-election. Senator Dick Durbin is 77, and will be 83 when his current term ends in January 2027. By then, he will have been in Congress for 44 years.

            How old were the greatest presidents when they were sworn in? George Washington was 57; Jefferson 58; Jackson 62; Lincoln 52; Teddy Roosevelt 43; FDR 51; and Eisenhower the oldest at 63. Some people would add Ronald Reagan to that list. He was 70 when he was first elected, and many argue that it might have been better had he not run for re-election.

            It seems to me that as the average age of our politicians has gone up, their average intelligence has gone down. I can’t prove this, since their IQs – if they ever took such a test – haven’t been made public. It’s a wonder to me that some of them can even tie their shoelaces. We know Donald Trump’s ego is off the charts, but what of his intelligence? Wouldn’t you just love to see his SATs or his Wharton School transcripts? Did his family’s donations to the University of Pennsylvania insure his acceptance?

            Of course, you don’t have to be a genius to be president. In his books on FDR, James MacGregor Burns argued that it wasn’t his intelligence but his temperament that made him a great president. And charisma, charm, a sense of humor (and good speech writers) took John F. Kennedy a long way.

            But let’s get back to age. Take me for example. I watch Jeopardy most days. I will often know as many answers as the typical winner, but I would never win because I wouldn’t be able to come up with the answer as quickly as a younger contestant. There’s a good reason President Biden holds few news conferences – his staff realizes he can’t think quickly enough or avoid choosing the wrong words.

            There was a time when I watched Sunday morning news programs like Meet the Press and Face the Nation. I don’t know if they kept records, but I would guess Biden was on more than any other politician. They could always count on  him to have an opinion (right or wrong) and never be at a loss for words. If anything, they couldn’t shut him up. Now, his staff seems to be trying to, or hustling later to clarify his mistakes.

            As I see it, the country has two related problems. Its politicians are getting older; and the best and brightest of our young people are avoiding politics like the plague. And who can blame them? Who would their heroes and role models be? Bernie Sanders and Mitch McConnell, whose combined ages are 160? (Not that I don’t have a sneaking admiration for Bernie, who at least has the courage of his wrong convictions.)

            Please don’t misunderstand me. I think older people are fully capable of performing at a high level, but there is a difference between writing a book –  social critic Jacques Barzun published a major work, From Dawn to Decadence, at 92 – and running the most complicated country in the world with all the pressures that entails. And it may be that someday an 80-year-old man or woman may appear who is able to effectively run the country, but I see no one like that today.

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

I Wish I Owned a Country!

By Patrick F. Cannon

You’ve probably been wondering why I’ve never written about the proprietors of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. I have no excuse, other than lethargy. But something in the Chicago Tribune recently finally got me on my high horse (and those noble steeds will be relevant in due course).  One of the lesser known Emirates is Ras Al-Khaimah, whose port has become a refuge for the luxury yachts of Russian oligarchs trying to prevent their seizure. More importantly, the Emirates have also become a safe haven for their money.

            The most famous of the Emirates is probably Dubai, home to the Burj Khalifa skyscraper, which tops out at 2,722 feet; and numerous luxury hotels, resorts and shopping centers. They even have an indoor ski hill. All of this has risen from the desert in the last 50 years or so, and is meant to be a hedge against the eventual decline of income from – you guessed it – the Emirates oil reserves. Dubai is owned, and I use that term advisably, by  the Maktoum family, whose current head is Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum. Along with the rest of the Emirati (have I coined anew word?), he has scrupulously avoided criticizing the Russian invasion of the Ukraine.

            Back in the 1970s, Sheikh Mohammed decided to get involved in Thoroughbred breeding and racing. Since his family owns Dubai and its oil, he had the dough to get in at the top. Beginning in 1977, he began showing up at the Keenland July Yearling Sales, where the cream of Kentucky’s young horses were sold. Ditto the major sales in England, Ireland and France. Since there were Englishmen and Irishmen with deep pockets interested in the same horses, a new Golden Age began for Kentucky breeders. Indeed, the highest prices for yearlings were all achieved in the 1980s.

            Not to be outdone, the family that owns Saudi Arabia also got involved in breeding and racing Thoroughbreds. They also hold the world’s richest race, the Saudi Cup, which has a purse of $20 million. It replaced the Dubai World Cup, which has a paltry purse of only $10 million. For comparison, our own Breeder’s Cup Classic only offers $6 million.

In the rest of the world, purses are generally related to nomination fees and betting. The high purses in the Middle East have lured American horses, who would otherwise have done their winter racing in California or Florida, to the sands of Arabia. It’s obvious that American and European breeders and owners don’t care where the money comes from, even when the Saudis still chop off the odd head and hand, prescribe the death penalty for homosexuality, and order the execution of political opponents like Jamal Khashoggi, who was murdered and dismembered in the Saudi embassy in Turkey.

In an obvious PR ploy, the Saudis convicted a couple of dupes, instead of the man who ordered the murder, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman Al Saud. He’s the same fellow who earned kudus for permitting women to get driver’s licenses! With the price of oil through the roof, he will be able to buy even more yachts and French estates.

In yet another effort to buy legitimacy, the Saudi Investment Fund, said to total $560 billion, is this very day initiating a new professional golf tour, whose purse is reputed to be $25 million. On the American PGA tour, the average purse is a bit more than $10 million. Oh, and there is no appearance money on the PGA tour; the players are independent contractors. Not so on the Saudi tour.

The highest ranking golfer to deflect for the Saudi dough is former World #1 Dustin Johnson, who reputedly has been guaranteed $125 million for making the move.  Just added to the London event is Phil Mickelson, a six-time major tournament winner who described the Saudi’s (please excuse the language, but this is a direct quote) as “crazy motherfuckers.”  Not so crazy, however, that Phil is going to turn down a similar upfront payment.

“Everyone has their price,”  goes the old saying. The folks who send their horses to Saudi Arabia and the UAE for the big purses, and the golfers who have chosen to play on their new tour, have found theirs. They are thus willing to overlook extensive human rights violations, many centered on legal systems based on the sacred documents of Islam, including the Quran. It’s as if our laws would be based on the Old Testament. Of course, we do have a significant number of our fellow Americans who would welcome it.

P.S. Two of the Saudi-backed golf tournaments in the US will be held at Trump-owned courses.

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

It’s all Optional

By Patrick F. Cannon

There’s an intersection at the end of my block with three-way stop signs (my street is one way). In the six years or so that I’ve lived here, I can only recall a handful of times when a vehicle actually came to a full top before proceeding on its way. Shall we be honest? Almost no one comes to a full stop unless there’s another vehicle proceeding through the intersection. I believe I’m an expert on the “full hesitation” instead of a lawful full stop.

            While I have no way of actually proving it, it seems to me – on the evidence of my eyes – that the number of drivers who don’t even hesitate at stop signs is increasing.  And not only stop signs; I’ve seen many drivers just slow down at red lights, then go through them with impunity. This impatience extends to speed. On expressways, few drivers take speed limits seriously, including me. But while I generally exceed the limit by 5 or 10 miles and hour, I have often been passed by drivers – if traffic permits – going 20 or 30 miles an hour (or more) above the posted limit. I’ve even seen two cars that seem to be racing each other through traffic (maybe with drawn guns?).

            Passing on two-lane roads and streets is permitted if the center line is broken, but I have been passed many times when there is a solid yellow line, which means no passing. Just the other day, I was doing 35 in a 30 mile per hour zone on a residential street with a solid yellow line. I was passed by a car doing at least 50; there was a stop sign at the end of the block which was also ignored.

            Last year, 42,915 people died in traffic accidents, a 10.5 percent increase over the year before. A popular theory says that it’s all connected to Covid restrictions. Although things have eased a bit, being forced to wear a mask in public, stay away from the corner bar, and generally hunker down has frustrated folks so much that they expressed their freedom in the one place they could – behind the wheel of their cars. I may be forced to wear a mask at the supermarket, but by God I can at least be free to ignore the law on the highways and byways of our great country!

            In an effort to overcomplicate matters, I offer some alternate reasons for the lawlessness and carnage. One involves what I would call the “Trump effect.” This posits that his followers emulate their hero by having a total disregard for truth, justice and the American way. One can choose for oneself which laws to obey, including those pesky stop signs and speed limits. Countering this is the argument that liberals and progressives have overthrown accepted morality, so that breaking traffic laws with impunity follows logically from permitting same sex marriages, abortion and gender fluidity.

            One that appeals to me – I’m a political independent – is simply that vehicle performance has exceeded the ability of most drivers to control it. When I was a lad reading car magazines, if a car could make it from zero to 60 in 12 seconds or less, it was considered pretty racy. My current car, a four-door sedan, can get there in half the time. And it’s not unusual for some, even hulking SUVs, to manage 60 in 5 seconds or less. Can you even imagine trying to control a machine like the Bugatti Veyron, which can get there in 2.4 seconds? And reach a top speed of 254 miles per hour? Even at 100 MPH on an expressway, how many drivers can really react properly to the unforeseen?

            Then there’s a particular favorite of mine (and many an old crank like me). It speculates that younger generations have been told so often that they are unique and wonderful – and even win awards for being average – that they feel entitled to do whatever they damn well please, regardless of how it might affect others. Of course, it may be a combination of all of the above. In any event, if you’re a pedestrian, you would be well advised to take great care in crossing at intersections with stop signs. Hit and runs are on the increase too.

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon

Bernays’ Familiar Quotations

By Patrick F. Cannon

As a former public relations guy, I’m always on the lookout for items that remind me of the good old days, and of the tried and true language that endures.

            In Monday’s Chicago Tribune, there was an item about someone named Lizzo. Now I don’t have a clue who this might be, but I certainly recognized the stock phrases that described an upcoming HBO “documentary” about her. We can all look forward to a thus far untitled project that “shares the inspirational story behind her humble beginnings to her meteoric rise with an intimate look into the moments that shaped her hard-earned rise to fame, success, love and international stardom…”

            Nice ring to it. The same ring that has rung on many other occasions, for many other entertainers, some of whom no doubt are still well known. In this digital age, it joins many other stock phrases in the computer storages of entertainment PR firms from coast to coast (but mostly in LA).

            Now, this isn’t a direct quote, but I’m sure you’ve read or heard something very much like the following, usually from some actor or other show-biz biggie: “I am extremely sorry if anything I said or did caused (insert woman’s or women’s names) any discomfort. I realize now that I crossed the line. I can only say I’ve learned a valuable lesson and won’t let anything like this ever happen again.”

            Have you ever noticed how similar these public expressions of remorse are? In almost every case, they are released not by the offender, but by his (or rarely her) public relations consultant (in the old days, “press agent). They rather remind me of a prayer that used to be recited at the Roman Catholic mass. Here is a current version:

            I confess to almighty God, and to you my brothers and sisters,

            that I have greatly sinned in my thoughts and in my words,

            in what I have done and in what I have failed to do;

            through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault;

            therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin, all the Angels and Saints’

            and you, my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God.

When I was a young lad, when you got to the “through my fault” part, you pounded your breast three times to further emphasize your guilt. When you confessed your sins to a priest, you promised, in the privacy of the Confessional, to sin no more. No privacy now. You must be seen (and heard) to publicly beat your breast.

            If it doesn’t already exist, someone should publish a collection of  useful and interchangeable paragraphs that cover the needs of any public figure. You know, kind of a Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations for the poor PR practitioner (which they like to call themselves instead of “flack”). It could be broken  down into sections like Poverty-stricken Childhood, Sexual Mis-steps, Charitable Gestures, and Marriage Breakups. Under the last, we would find that classic – “We will always remain friends and put the interests of  the children first!”

P.S. In case you haven’t heard of him, Edward Bernays is considered the “Father” of modern public relations, for better or worse. Look him up; an interesting character.

Copyright 2022, Patrick F. Cannon