The March: How will he react?

The mom of a friend of mine is marching in Washington today. I am proud of her, and her colleagues there and throughout the nation.

Peaceful protest is a pure American right, embedded in the First Amendment to the Constitution -- the right to assembly and petition. (The 18th-century phrase was "peaceably assemble and petition the Government for a redress of grievances.") Bless them in their bus loads, with their signs and banners. Bless them outside my state Capitol in Hartford, and throughout our country. Most of all, bless them for for their message that women's rights are real and serious.

One day after Donald Trump's inauguration as the nation's 45th President, I am curious to see how this most thin-skinned of leaders reacts to the undeniable (real, not"fake" news) fact that his statements and behavior have prompted a mass protest.

Will he take to Twitter (a phrase he has made popular)? Will he denounce the participants as un-American -- or just bitter, sore losers? Will he blame the media for covering this story? Will he seek to minimize the importance of this, spinning his own version of reality?

It is too much to hope, too much to ask for, that the brand new President -- who put his hand on two Bibles one day ago, who attended a prayer service in the soaring and inspiring National Cathedral this morning, even as protesters arrived -- would pause to reflect? Maybe even to ask, "What can I do to heal some of America's wounds? To make us more united?"

He doesn't even need to tell us about it. Just act like he understands that there are people -- women and men, children, too -- who are frightened about what his Presidency means for our nation and our values. He needn't agree, just listen.

In time, that would show that America already is great.

POST SCRIPT (one day later): I got my answer. Sarcasm, snarkiness, dismissiveness and (of course) inaccuracies in claiming that the marchers (or the vast majority of them, anyway) didn't vote.

Liar, liar, pants on ... hey, does someone smell smoke?

Most of us learn, at an early age, what a lie is. We get called out and punished for telling lies. It's not a difficult philosophical concept.

• "I didn't take my sister's dessert" (when I did) is a lie.
• "It will be sunny tomorrow" (when it is unexpectedly cloudy) is not.

We have even invented words and phrases to provide shadings around this stark word: "fib" (a small untruth, said knowingly but without intent to harm); "white lie" (a variant of "fib," perhaps said precisely to prevent hurt, as a response to the sexist and proverbial, "Does this dress make me look fat?").

But, on the big things -- Truth and Lies. It's a binary thing. We have nice, one-syllable words for them.

So, when the President-elect (soon to be the Chief we Hail) says something that:
   (a) he knows is not the truth
   (b) with intent to change reality
   (c) and blame someone else
... what should we call that?

I am amazed that there is actually a debate about this.

The editor of The Wall Street Journal, an incredibly credible newspaper, says he prefers not to cast Trump's lies as, well, that word:

 “I’d be careful about using the word ‘lie.’ ‘Lie’ implies much more than just saying something that’s false. It implies a deliberate intent to mislead.”

Well, yeah. That kind of the point.

The editor, Gerard Baker, goes on to help us parse the fine journalistic and philosophical distinctions he and is staff struggle with here:

"To accuse someone of lying is to impute a willful, deliberate attempt to deceive. It says he knowingly used a misrepresentation of the facts to mislead for his own purposes."

Then:

 "Now, I may believe that many of the things Mr. Trump has said in the past year are whoppers of the first order."

And, because he is a powerful man running for (arguably) the most powerful post in the entire world, we need to be dainty about whether to call these first-order whoppers -- which any intelligent person could disprove -- what they are: lies?

As in, when the President-elect is captured on camera saying something, then declaring he never said it.

As in, here.

Or, to be bipartisan, when President Clinton said, "I never had sexual relations with that woman, Ms. Lewinsky," when ... you know, stained blue dress and all. That was a lie. A horrible lie.

I am amazed at the lengths to which some will go to give Trump "a pass," "one more chance," "the benefit of the doubt."

He is soon to be our president. He was elected, according to our current system of selecting our top leader. If he feels like telling "whoppers of the first order," he has a large staff to fact-check before he opens his mouth or launches his Twitter account.

But if he "misspeaks" without checking the veracity of his facts -- or, better yet, is saying he did not do or say things that are on the record -- I think we know what to call that.

Trump is a liar, and he is getting away with it.

"K" is for Kind

"I often worry the world is an unkind place for my child."

Survey says: 70% of parents and 86% of teachers often worry about this.

That's the result of a survey done by Sesame Workshop. I am not sure whether this falls under the category of "shocking" or "no-brainer." (I read this in USA Today while in the airport, and I'm reminded of the famous survey headline decades ago in that paper: "Men, women: We're still different.")

After the appalling presidential campaign of 2016, in which voters in key states (note: not "the majority of voters") decided it was perfectly acceptable -- laudable, in fact -- to elect a president who said some absolutely unkind things, is it any wonder that we worry about raising our children in a world that lacks basic kindness?

To quote from the Workshop:

We chose to shine the spotlight on kindness because we have noticed an increasing number of news stories on anger, fear, bullying, and violence, as well as an overall sense of negativity permeating social discourse. We read research indicating that narcissism is on the rise, empathy is on the decline ...

Anyone who's surprised, please raise your hands.

I'm not saying that all disagreement is bad, and I'm not unaware that the history of political discourse is replete with examples of boorish (or worse) behavior and expression. And, yes, when it comes to setting a poor example for our next generations, you simply cannot excuse the Commander in Chief lying about engaging in sex with an intern.

But it's not too outlandish to wonder whether we've crossed some new threshold here when it comes to modeling acceptable speech and action. Teachers I have spoken with say they've noticed an increase in student behavior that once would have provokes outrage. Now, it simply inspires chagrin.  

Is healthcare a right?

That's the question the editor of Modern Healthcare poses in this editorial.

It's a key point as the GOP Congress, which takes office today, has vowed to undo the Affordable Care Act, aka Obamacare, as Act 1.

The editorial does a good job of tracking the modern history of government actions regarding the health of its citizens, starting with FDR's 1945 State of the Union speech, in which he outlined a "bill of rights for Americans" in the post World War II nation.

There followed Medicare and Medicaid in the mid-'60s (healthcare is a right for the poor and elderly), EMTALA in 1986 (emergency care and childbirth at hospitals that receive federal funds are rights) and CHIP in 1997 (healthcare coverage is a right for children).

Can you find these rights in the Constitution or the Bill of Rights? Not exactly. (There is that pesky and well-crafted line in the Declaration of Independence about "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" but that's fairly nebulous, and not a governing document).

Is healthcare a privilege? A business? A duty of the government on behalf of its populace, or a benefit for those who can afford it? The fundamental question, really, is: What sort of nation does America aspire to be? 

With healthcare spending at $3.2 trillion in 2015, and set to account for 20 cents of every dollar of GDP, it's just plain silly to argue that it's not a major undertaking of our government. So, does government care whether its citizens are sick or well? Does it have a vested interest in ensuring people stay healthy -- and get better? That research and wellness programs make America's quality of life enviable? I sure hope so.

In any advanced society, healthcare is a right. If America aspires to greatness (or, as many seem to seek, greatness again), we need to realize that.

Born to read

I've never been a huge Bruce Springsteen fan. I've always enjoyed his music, and bought or listened to almost all of it -- first in vinyl, then CDs, then MP3s and now on Spotify. Even created a playlist or two. But I've only been to one of The Boss's concerts, and even that was as part of a charity fund-raiser.

Yet, for some reason, I really wanted to read "Born to Run," his autobiography. I asked for it as a Christmas present and Santa (my wife) wrapped it and presented it under the tree.

I am very much enjoying a few days of vacation now and just started reading it.

"You know," I remarked to said Santa after reading all of nine pages, "this guy can really write."

She gave me a look that said, "Ya think?"

Right.

I'm sure there will be many moments like this through 508 pages, but this riff at the end of Chapter One had me cheer and read it out loud:

Here we live in the shadow of the steeple, where the holy rubber meets the road, all crookedly blessed in God's mercy, in the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, race-riot-creating, oddball-hating, soul-shaking, love-and-far-making, heartbreaking town of Freehold, New Jersey.

Let the service begin.

And let the people respond: Amen!

As 2017 dawns, a glimpse of journalism's future

Happy 2017!

I am not sure where the world is heading, but I think I am right now experiencing a glimpse into the future of journalism. And, let's face it, solid journalism is as important as ever.

I came across The New York Times' interactive year-in-review section.

The headline is, "The Year in Visual Stories and Graphics." It does not do justice to the work they have created and assembled here.

There is a "curated walk through the hallways of the newest Smithsonian museum," cellphone videos from a road trip in Syria, and the one that caught my eye on a not-too-groggy New Year's Day morning: "25 Songs that Tell Us Where Music is Going."

This is a fine example of how smart journalists can -- indeed, must -- integrate research, writing, visuals and audio in an attractive, intuitive package. It defines the overused expression, "immersive experience.

Like every newspaper, the venerable NYTimes has its challenges: declining circulation of what's now affectionately called the "legacy" (print) product,  slagging advertising revenue and a fickle digital subscribership.

They're working hard at audience development, a term some call "stickiness" -- a strategy that goes well beyond "chasing clicks."

It can't be easy, pulling together all this content (still a somewhat dirty word for traditional journalists) and creating an experience that is greater than the sum of its parts. For example, this piece on 25 songs caused me to rediscover Wilco after years. Then head back to the article to discover more. I'm still listening now.

That's all the content that's fit to share. Bravo, Times -- and happy New Year, old gray lady. I love your colorful dress.

Trouble never comes alone (Беда́ никогда́ не прихо́дит одна́)

For a long time, I thought it would be fun to learn Russian. It had some of the cool linguistic and social features I (thought I) liked: slightly unusual alphabet, interesting pronunciations, great literature, crazy history.

I never did get past buying a Russian-for-travelers paperback at a used bookstore. Why bother? The Cold War was over, the U.S.'s interests had turned to other evil empires -- and one, ISIS, that was especially scary because it is an idea and not a place. Better to learn Chinese, or Arabic.

I am wondering now if it's time to brush up on the Cyrillic alphabet. A new Cold War may be on the horizon.

U.S. intelligence agencies say Russian-backed cyberattacks interfered with our nation's tumultous presidential election. President Obama imposed a series of sanctions that, essentially, said Russian diplomats at two U.S. embassies were really no more than spies. President-Elect Trump sais we should just "get on with our lives," and called the Russian leader "very smart." Trump pledges to be more sympathetic to turning Russia from adversary to ally -- a pronouncement that has raised the eyebrows of even some Republicans and (wow) The Wall Street Journal (after an obligatory bashing of the current administration).

Is it time for a reprise of John LeCarre's character George Smiley?

If I ever do learn Russian (very doubtful), part of the joy will be learning some Russian expressions -- they are rich and wonderfully playful. With the looming presidency of Donald Trump in this dangerous world, I wonder if we will live through another Cold War. I wonder if we will survive it.

One of those great Russian expressions, sometimes loosely translated as "When it rains, it pours": Беда́ никогда́ не прихо́дит одна́. 

Literally: Trouble never comes alone.

News from Lake Wobegon

People talk about "NPR moments." I've had more than a few: delaying a weekend errand by a few minutes (or more) to hear the end of "Car Talk," playing along with "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me: The NPR News Quiz" rather than mowing the lawn or tackling my emails.

But nearly every week, for more than 25 years, I have had "NPR hours." That's when Garrison Keillor's  "A Prairie Home Companion" is on. Saturday nights at 6, or (when I miss it, or want to re-listen) Sundays at noon, there's a great hour of radio.

Turns out, I'm a newcomer, along with my wife, who's also a fan. (The kids, not so much. Their loss.)  This week, Keillor and Company celebrate an amazing 40 years on radio. Four decades of music -- everything from opera to blues, but mainly folk -- plus inventive skits, wonderful sound effects, incisive commentary and, of course, "The Week from Lake Wobegon."

For one hour each weekend, it's like visiting with an old friend. The minute you hear the opening chords of, "I hear that old piano from down the avenue ..." you have arrived. You know the back stories; you're aware of the quirks and the corny jokes. But each experience is enjoyable and, in its own way, enriching.

There are the ads for Powdermilk Biscuits ("Made from whole wheat raised in the rich bottomlands of the Lake Wobegon river valley by Norwegian bachelor farmers, so you know they're not only good for you, but also pure, mostly." "They give shy persons the strength to get up and do what needs to be done. Heavens, they're tasty -- and expeditious!") Visits to the Cafe Boeuf with its pretentious waiter and wonderful faux French. Ads for Bebop-A-Reebop Rhubarb Pie (and frozen pie filling). And on and on.

Keillor has created something special here. Over the years, I've come to care about the characters -- Rusty and Dusty from "Lives of the Cowboys"; Pastor Ingqvist and, more recently, Pastor Liz. I'd love to grab a cold one at The Sidetrack Tap.

Actually, I have. OK, the beer or other beverage is usually in my kitchen or on my deck, and the conversation at The Tap is coming over the radio. But once a week, I'm part of this wonderfully wacky, comfortably familiar, family.

Here's to 40 years, and many more, of quiet weeks in Lake Wobegon.

The declaration

What must it have been like, that summer of 1776, when the Declaration of Independence was being crafted? The thing was written by committee, after all, yet it reads -- 236 years later -- like the bold manifesto it was then. I get chills reading it. Or reading it out loud, although my audience is generally only being polite.

Not everyone is a fan of this kind of writing, of course. A blogger for The Economist notes that

"Everything in America has gotten bigger since 1776 but the sentences. Were Thomas Jefferson writing today, the baggy monsters with which he opens the Declaration of Independence would be hacked to bits by editors and spin doctors mindful of the need for quick sound bites."

But really, what's not to like? Go through it at a measured pace. Remember that nothing like this was ever written before, so the opening frames the document's purpose (it's time to dissolve "political bonds" with Great Britain) in grand fashion (within "the course of human events").

The stage set, the Declaration notes that this is a big deal. In fact, it would be far easier not to break off with Britain.

"Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed."

But, really, things have gotten so bad -- there has been such "a long train of abuses and usurpations" -- there is no other choice.

Now comes the best part. The authors set forth a list of  crimes and hardships they have suffered. But it's not just a list imposed by some power across the seas. The authors are not content to complain about a faceless "government." They name the perpetrator: "the present King of Great Britain."

This was mighty bold.

On and on it goes, with strong words: quartering, imposing, denying, cutting off, suspended, abdicated, plundered ... This is a list of wrongs like no other.

And then, the kicker:

"A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people." 

Take that, King George.

I grew up not more than a few miles from where one of the signers of The Declaration was born. Samuel Huntington and his colleagues were not just taking pen to paper that day; they were risking their lives. In fact, they knew it and said so:

"And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor."

Take a few minutes. Settle back and read it deliberately. Or watch this 10-minute video of famous actors reading The Declaration. The language is at times odd, but it's not impossible.

And it's really bold stuff.

Most Wired - The William W. Backus Hospital

Most Wired - The William W. Backus Hospital

On being a good (or better) boss

Heaven knows, I try to be a good boss. I try to be a good writer, too, but often I don't hit the mark.

This story in today's NYTimes Biz section about Google's study of what makes good bosses is nothing less than inspiring.

“Have a clear vision and strategy for the team.”

“Help your employees with career development.”

“Don’t be a sissy: Be productive and results-oriented.”

The list goes on, reading like a whiteboard gag from an episode of “The Office.”

A new "Newsweek"

Damn. My subscription to Newsweek is due to expire next week, and for more than a few months I've thought that it's time to give it up (pun intended).

I've been getting both Time and Newsweek since college, but the latter has one through so many permutations in the past two years that it's gotten annoying. Which personality will arrive this week? The one with mostly columnists? ... The one that takes a "longer view" on world events?

Now comes Tina Brown, fresh from The Daily Beast, as new editor and has me thinking I'll re-up for another year. The first issue under her editorship is both entertaining and thoughtful. I liked what Brown did many years ago at The New Yorker (not a universally held opinion) and I think she may have a thing or two to try with this mag.

Good luck, Tina. You came in the nick of time for this reader...


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

OK, come up with your own healthcare fix

From today's New York Times editorial:

President Obama had a splendid idea this week. He challenged governors who oppose his health care reforms, most of whom are Republicans, to come up with a better alternative. He has agreed to move up the date at which states can offer their own solutions and thus opt out of requirements that they oppose, like the mandate that everyone buy health insurance and that most employers provide it.

So far, all I have heard from those who oppose "Obamacare" (as it's been branded; although I don't think that's such a bad nickname) is how this will break the bank and corrupt our society. What should be done differently? Not so much volume.

This is the way to proceed. Our healthcare system is broken. It's not even a "system" at all, but a bunch of disconnected pieces that don't work well together. Something must be done. So, if not Obamacare ... what?

One business leader on 'self-awareness'

My favorite newspaper is The New York Times. Of course, my favorite issue of the week is Sunday. There are sections of the Sunday Times that can be savored all week long -- or longer if I don't stay on top of things (last week's magazine section is still in the "I'll-get-to-it-soon" reading pile). But I've just realized that my favorite sections of the Sunday Times are Sunday Business and Week In Review.

And my favorite part of those is the "Corner Office" column on page 2 of Business.

Each week, a CEO or top-level biz exec answers a series of very straightforward questions about leadership: What was it like the first time as a manager? What questions do you ask in an interview? How do you hire?

The questions are mundane and similar week to week, but the answers surprise and delight. They make me marvel at how similar -- and how different -- top-level managers think and act.

A line today that struck me, in answer to a question about what skills Laura Ching, co-founder and Chief Merchandising Officer of TinyPrints.com looks for:

"... I also want to get a sense of [the person's] emotional I.Q. Self-awareness is really big for me. When it comes to the review period, I'll evaluate you, and you'll evaluate yourself. Some people are right on in terms of their performance -- or even better, their worst critic -- and I think it says a lot about their maturity and their insightfulness and wanting to get better."

What are your 'entitlements'?

I am among those who think the President's budget proposal is a bit cynical. It leaves tough decisions to the GOP. I even agree with Obama's critics who accuse him of "kicking the can down the road," as he famously commented in one of his books.

I think it would be fine to touch the "third rail" of politics. I think it's logical to raise the age of retirement; it was set when the average life expectancy was about 67. The average American (even given our best efforts to kill ourselves with lousy diets and lack of exercise, and counter this with high-priced healthcare ... a story for another day) now lives to be 79.

But let's look at the meaning of "entitlement." When does war become an entitlement? Is healthcare a right or a privilege? (I maintain it's a right, but that all rights require equal parts of personal responsibility.) What about education -- is it a right or an entitlement that I believe my kids should receive an education that prepares them for a successful 21st-century future, IF they work hard to succeed?

Calm down. Free speech is alive and well.

A conservative friend had a post Facebook that made me think ... after it made me slightly annoyed. "Gee. Juan Williams gets canned from NPR. So much for free speech."

Looks to me as if free speech is alive and well. You see, Mr. Williams landed a $2-million-a-year job on Fox News not 24 hours after his firing from NPR. (Don't know what his radio salary was, but I'm guessing it somewhat south of that.)

Second, my friend (and many, many others) shared his opinion. He was tamer than many.

Third, I am sharing mine.

Fourth, I can still listen to NPR, or Fox, or buy The New York Times or The Wall Street Journal (which I do), any time I want. And they can print and air what ever they want.

Only the government can deny free speech. If the government moves to shut down Fox News, even I will howl. Were that to happen, my true liberal colleagues will join me in protest, I am sure. I love the First Amendment, and I believe it even stops the government from squelching speech that I find reprehensible. (The KKK and the pastor whose flock taunted a soldier's funeral come immediately to mind.)

But I also know that individuals and businesses have a right to hire people, pay them, and terminate their employment. That's not violating anyone's rights to speech, and Fox News knows that very well. (I suspect my conservative pal does, too.)

Truth is, I think NPR blew it here; they really overreacted. The better option was to give Mr. Williams a suspension without pay, then let him quit in a huff and snag the $2M job anyway.

But HR blunders (even very public ones, like this) aren't exactly the demise of free speech.

No storm. No work, either. What gives?

The region was bracing for a hurricane as we headed into mid-week. But by Thursday, it was pretty clear we wouldn't get clobbered. Still, a few businesses closed their doors at noon on Friday, sent staff home with pay, and the staff is thrilled, of course. It's become another expectation and entitlement: Nasty forecast = no work.

But yesterday there was no storm, really. We have had thunderstorms worse than this.

Same thing happens every single time snow is forecast. Schools close before there is a flake. At least twice last year, there was no school -- and no snow.

Now, I'm not saying we shouldn't be prepared for bad weather, or that we should put business (or education) above personal safety. But we live in New England, for Pete's sake. We get four full seasons, and we get bad storms -- rain and wind in the fall and spring, snow in the winter. It can get very hot in summer. Go figure.

Here's what I think: When bad weather threatens, have a plan in place to send staff home or close. When it's a coin toss, it may be best to be safe. But when it looks as if there's more hype than weather, let's just go about our lives. We can live with rain, and even (gasp) a dusting of snow without going into a state of emergency.

'Blocking Facebook won't stop stupidity' -- right on

One of my favorite blogs is Paul Levy's "Running a Hospital." How the CEO of Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital in Boston finds the time to create thoughtful, compelling and sometimes just amusing blog posts regularly is a mystery. I'm envious -- not of his job (he can have it, $1M paycheck and all) but of his blogability. (Sarah Palin's not the only one who can create new words around here.)

Anyway, I found this post especially interesting. Most hospitals block Facebook and other social media apps from their systems. A few more forward-thinking ones (like the one I work at) make a concession for us folks in communications. But, I've been wondering, what if we expected people to act like adults and professionals instead?

Paul Levy takes a stab at that in this post...
Running a hospital: Blocking Facebook won't stop stupidity: "A couple of people have asked me to address the recent story in California about some hospital employees who took pictures of a dying patien..."

Coming clean about "wayfinding"

"When do you want to pick these up," the usually pleasant lady at the dry cleaner's asked, pointing to the five shirts -- the usual: two blue, two white, one striped -- I had laid in a pile before her Saturday morning.

"Oh, Tuesday will be fine."

"You know we're closed all next week, right?" Just a hint of recrimination in her voice.

I shrugged.

"Well, we've had signs up for the past month. All next week -- closed."

Right she was. Signs everywhere. One each on the counter, the front door, and at the cash register, too. I had actually noticed this, and made a mental note of it a few weeks back.

I suppressed my first two reactions, which were:

-- "I'm sorry, but for some reason your vacation schedule hasn't made its way to my Outlook calendar." And

-- "I'm not so sure it's wise for a service-related business to close for a week. Not in this economy, and not when there's another dry cleaner a quarter mile away."

Instead, I just said, "Well, I guess the following Tuesday, then."

She smiled, probably thankful I was one of the customers who chose not to engage in a debate about this. And I actually wished her a happy week off.

But it got me to thinking.

We put signs up everywhere at the hospital, on every vertical and horizontal surface. This way to registration. Register here first (except during these hours). This area will be closed for renovation. Hours of operation. Other locations.

And we're amazed that people don't notice these notices -- communicated on posters, in stanchions, on walls, elevators, hanging from the ceiling, posted on countertops, in plastic stands, taped to windows.

So we put up more -- and make them bigger, more colorful. We add arrows and artwork, affix them to soffits.

There's sign pollution. Like the dry cleaner's, the sign is not the most important thing on your mind when you're going about your busy day. And, at least there's no anxiety involved when dropping off shirts and pants. You can't say the same about registering for a CT scan.

The dry cleaner did an adequate job of communicating its message, but I was not getting it. They could have done my thinking for me -- by giving out a sticky dot to put on a calendar saying "We're closed the week of XYZ, and their name and phone number." Or handing out a bright red reminder with the same message with pick-up receipts for a few weeks before.

Even then, I may have been oblivious. And the service recovery would be simple: Be as kind and understanding as possible.

How can we help do the thinking for our "lost souls" -- the patients, family members and other visitors who need to get from Point A to B (and sometimes a lot farther down the alphabet)? And, inevitably, when some of our guests still get confused, how can we be sure our service recovery gets them headed in the right direction -- with a positive view?

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