It's been a quiet week. Pastor Liz returns from a vacation to Carmel, California and spends some time at the Sidetrack Tap, Marilyn Hedlund evaluates her past romances, and Clint and Irene Bunsen celebrate their 38th wedding anniversary at the Moonlight Bay Supper Club.
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Last month, I wrote a piece here about how you would like love Chicago Cubs first baseman Anthony Rizzo, even if you rooted for a team that was a rival of the Cubs, or even if you didn't follow baseball at all. Today, we add new Cubs manager Joe Maddon to the list. There are many reasons to love Joe Maddon, though most of them do require having an appreciation of baseball. He's a wonderful guy, and has a way of dealing with his players, the media, and the public that's unique and a joy. He believes strongly in openness and honesty, and often says, "If I tell a player the truth, he might not like me for a day or two, but if I lie to him, he'll hate me forever." But there's something far more about Joe Maddon that just is just so smart and thoughtful and terrific that it transcends sports, even if sports is where it has its beginning. After all games, the manager or coach of every professional sports team (or probably most-every college coach, as well) has a post-game press conference where he goes out to meet the media and answer their questions. What Joe Maddon does is, before the press conference begins, is wear a different t-shirt from a different charity each time to promote it. But he doesn't just promote the charity, but makes sure to talk about what charity he's promoting that day, making sure it not only gets on camera and covered by the press, but sends out a tweet each day to bring it attention. His idea came to him last summer, when he was manager of the Tampa Bay Rays. A fan gave him a charity t-shirt and Maddon decided to wear it to his news conference. And then he figured why not expand on that and keep it going, so he sent out a tweet on July 26 asking people to send him t-shirts for their charitable causes. And it didn't have to be for local charities, in fact what Maddon has said that he particularly loves that he gets t-shirts from charities all over the country. And now that he's with the Cubs, he says he plans to continue with this effort.
Such things aren't new to Joe Maddon. For the past eight years, he's been holding "Thanksmas," which puts together volunteers to support the homeless in the Tampa Bay area with food and other benefits that Maddon pays for, along with donations -- and even gets involved with the cooking and serving, based on spaghetti, meatball and pierogie recipes from his mother. There were some concerns in the Tampa-St. Pete area that after Maddon left the Rays and signed with Chicago that the event would end. But Maddon returned last December. "This is not going away," he said. That's just Joe Maddon. A wonderful guy. Yet another reason to like the Cubs now, even if you don't. Spring is officially here. And that means that it's only right and proper to have Tom Lehrer's classic paean to one of the joys of the season. "Spring is here," the song begins. And then he he goes on to tell us of the what makes it all a treat to him, "Poisoning Pigeons in the Park." The other day, on Wednesday, I had the most bizarrely difficult time I've ever had trying to, of all things, check out something from the library. It had begun when my dad wanted to listen to a couple of music CDs, and I called the Glenview Public Library to find out before I drove over if they had them. They did have one on the shelves, but had to order the other from a sister-library in the same system. That's when all started to unwind. First, to my surprise, they said it was going to be a problem that I would be coming in and not my dad, since it was his card. But if I was listed on my dad's account as having privileges, it would be okay. I'd never heard that one before (and it was especially odd since the library has self-service check-out machines...), but -- since I doubted I'd been listed on the account when it was set up, I asked if it would fine if my dad simply wrote a letter of approval and signed it. I was sure that would work -- after all, I was just trying to check out a music CD. But...no, that wasn't permissible. For some mythical reason. How about if I got him on the phone, he's just in the next room. No. Worse, though, as we were talking, the guy was checking his computer, and it turned out that my dad's card was expired.
Fine, okay, could I renew it? Sure, he said -- but my dad would have to come in. While I understood that policy (it's the same at the L.A. and Beverly Hills libraries), I said it really wan't possible. My dad's about to be 94, I explained, he rarely goes out, it's very difficult for him to get around, he's on dialysis, and it just wouldn't happen. "How about if you got him in the car, drove by our drive-up window, and we could deal with it there," the guy said. "Then he wouldn't have to come in the library." No, as I explained again, that wasn't going to happen. It's just too difficult for him to get out, and while he does it on occasion, mainly for doctor's appointments, I knew he wouldn't go to all the trouble, in order to renew his library card. The guy asked me to wait while he checked with someone else. He eventually came back on the phone, and said that he didn't see any way around this. A person had to come in to renew their card. It's a policy set by the Board of Trustees, and that's the way it had to be, it's to protect people's privacy of information, and that was the requirement. In my mind as I hear this, a multitude of words are bubbling over. I'm thinking, "Seriously, folks, this is about renewing a library card!! I'm not trying to get private financial data on Mitt Romney. This isn't a challenge to the Freedom of Information Act, or trying to follow in the footsteps of Edward Snowden. Privacy of information?? What on earth are you talking about?? I want to renew my dad's library card. Besides, a "policy" is hardly the same as a law set in the U.S. Constitution. It's a "policy." The first definition of "policy" on Dictionary.com is -- "A definite course of action adopted for the sake of expediency." Expediency. As in -- "My dad is almost 94 and it's very difficult for him to come in to renew his library card, it would be more expedient if I did it for him, and I'll bring a note." This can't be the first time a senior citizen wasn't able to get around to come in to renew their library card. (The library, to its credit, in fact has a great program where they actually go to the homes of homebound residents to bring books.) Moreover, there's a big independent-living residence just a mile away, where my dad lives, filled with seniors, many in their 90s and not especially mobile -- and an assisted living facility there, too, where there is no earthly way those people can come in. I really wanted to scream all this, about how insane this was -- a drivers license can be renewed online, so can an insurance policy, you can buy a refrigerator online or over the phone, you can renew your donation to a charity or magazine subscription -- but a library card can't be renewed?? Seriously? -- but I realized that we were in a situation where low-key, relentless politeness and patience was the way to fly. And so, quiet politeness ruled the day. I kept saying pointedly that my dad couldn't come in, but there had to be a way to resolve this. Just had to be. He said he'd transfer me to the person in charge. (As I was waiting, I wondered if it would just be easiest to call the elves back at the homestead who are expert in such things and have them try to break into Glenview system online, or perhaps have them organize a paramilitary assault, from the library card renewal division.) I was at last transferred. When we spoke, the woman there in the Seat of Power mentioned that she was aware of the issue, and had been told that me dad had dialysis. I said, yes, but added I wasn't going to go into his whole medical history, just to get a library card. But I figured what she was getting at wasn't anything that intrusive, but rather that perhaps my dad could swing by the library after he returned from dialysis -- so I quickly noted that he had "home dialysis," and didn't go out to a hospital for the treatment. She understood, but there really wasn't anything to do. After all, it was policy that the person had to come in. It was then that things got worse. Really. Trying to figure out some resolution, she checked his account, and it turned out that he hadn't used the card in over three years -- so, not only was the card expired...but it was out of the system! So, there was really nothing she could do. (Seriously? Out of the system? Because the card hadn't been used in just three years? It's expunged? The CIA likely doesn't expunge records even when you die.) Keep in mind, all this is to just renew a library card! If the government had security this good, we still wouldn't know about the NSA and wiretapping of citizens. International spies would give up trying to crack U.S. secrets and just focus on other countries. If cyberspace was this protected, the world of hackers would totally collapse. I did my best to remain low-key, patient...and unrelenting. Eventually, decency and common sense and basic good will kicked in. The very nice lady grudgingly, but most thoughtfully said that if I came in with the card and identification for my dad, she would do me a favor and update his card. Yes, there is a God. Policy is not the final word. Midwest decency wins out. Huzzah! Yet even still, the tale doesn't end there and gets funnier. I drove over to the library, had a very nice chat with her -- she was well-aware of the residence where my dad lives, in fact the Glenview Public Library has a wonderful program they run in conjunction with the place, where a library rep comes by every other month to lead a book group. And then she took my dad's card, scanned it, made a couple entries in the couple, handed me a form to double-check that the information was correct...and...That Was It! That was all it took to update his expired, expunged library card. About 40 seconds. Breaking all the rules against "policy." And the impossible, what couldn't be done -- was done.. To be clear, the Glenview Public Library is a very good facility. It's an extremely nice, new structure. Beautifully organized, a very good collection, many excellent community outreach programs, quite a few wonderful services for the elderly. But for some unknown, unearthly reason, they make it more difficult to renew a library card and check out an item than get a passport. Or a visa to visit North Korea. Those you can do by mail. Reading may be fundamental. But getting the book is another matter entirely... My beloved Northwestern Wildcats once again did not make the NCAA post-season basketball tournament. This is not a shock. They have the longest streak of any major college team never to have made the tourney. But that doesn't do the reality justice -- they are, in fact, the ONLY major college to never have made the post-season. That goes back to 1939. Or 76 years ago. (This could change soon. The played a lot of close games against ranked teamed this year, and ended up with a respectable record for a lousy season -- and have what is considered a strong class of recuits coming in next year, and most of their best players coming back. And a good, young coach in Chris Collins, son of legendary coach Doug.) On the other side of the coin, the NU women's basketball team had quite a good year, and ended the regular season ranked #22 in the country. And they're in the post-season tournament, with a #7 seed in the region. So, it's been nice to read the coverage about them in the sports pages here. The elves back at the homestead are excited, too, and send their best. (And good news! The NU women's team will be broadcast on ESPN 2 tomorrow -- Friday -- at 11:30 AM Los Angeles time, 1:30 PM here in Chicago. Hey, it counts. When you follow Northwestern sports, you takes what you get. Between them and the Cubs, I have a lot of catching up to do. In the meantime, I figured it best to play the Northwestern fight song, "Go U Northwestern." But to be appropriate and faithful to the moment, it's from a recording that comes from even before the NCAA baskeball tournament began. This isn't the NU marching band, but a recording by Dell Lampe and his Orchestra, in 1929. It also includes the "lost" introduction to the song, which I (and I assume most people) have never heard. Okay, I completely understand that a 1929 dance band orchestra might not be everyone's favorite way to hear a college marching band song. So, for those of you who prefer something different, here is the Northwestern fight song played by mariachis... Now, I'm sure that that should pretty much satisfy most anyone, it's a mariachi fight song, after all, and between that and the dance band, it should be plenty. But I know, too, that we have some high-brow elites who read these pages, so for you folks, here is the Northwestern fight song performed by opera students at the university's School of Music. Oh, okay, here's the real deal, with the Northwestern Wildcat Marching Band. For all those who made it through all four versions, you are now eligible for an honorary degree. Thanks to the ever-vigilant eyes of Nell Minow, she sent me a copy of the following communication from Citizen.org, the watchdog group. In some ways, it's a sort of companion piece to the political story we had yesterday about the unintended revelation of authorship by the chemical lobby for a toxic chemistry bill, which I noted was somewhat funny, depending on your definition of "funny. Colleagues: This is what is known in trade circles as a Double Yipes!!!
The first "Yipes" is the whole point behind sending this communication -- concept of making complaints disappear by not allowing comments. On the one hand, you'd think that probably the best way to make complaints go away is by providing actually great service and products. On the other hand, you have to admit that not allowing comments is pretty darn effective. One would think that for federal contracts, the ability to make public comments would be, like, the basic consideration of getting the contract. But hey, that's me... But further than that, the second is is...wait, that is actually the current policy??? That a federal contractor can just set up two divisions within their company and actually claim it’s a different company?!! Seriously??? No, I mean, seriously?!!! That's almost like punching someone with your left hand and claiming you're not responsible because you're really right-handed. This isn't robbing Peter to pay Paul -- this is robbing Peter and Paul, and claiming that no one was robbed because you put the money in a box outside your house, and the box isn't yours but was just sitting there. In what rational universe is this acceptable? In what rational universe is any of this acceptable? If anyone disagrees with me here, don't bother leaving a complaint, because I've disabled comments. Okay, no, I didn't. But that's okay -- because I'm writing this from my dad's home, so I'm not responsible for the content. Take your complaints up with him. Though he doesn't own the place, so he's not responsible. |
AuthorRobert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting. Feedspot Badge of Honor
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