A little while back, my favorite photo-maker and I went to a Cardinals game. We saw the baseball, we saw the drunk frat boys and their screaming, waving female counterparts, we saw the beer hawkers and the cotton candy boys strutting their stuff in the stands.
We also saw three kids experience their first baseball game.
In America, that is (strangely enough) a pretty big deal. We mentor kids through a local mentoring program, and we decided to take them to a game with some free tickets I scrounged up at work. My mentee is a big-hearted 8-year-old girl named Armani; Jay's mentee is a energetic 8-year-old boy named Jerome. Jerome has a twin brother named Jyrome, so he came along as well.
We had to explain how baseball works, which is no small task. Every time someone hit the ball, there was a new rule to explain. Every time someone didn't hit the ball, there was a rule or strategy to explain that, too. They were interested enough to sit still for about an hour. And then they squirmed. And they were hungry. And they were bored.
So we went to the play area and let them run around, eat a hot dog, climb on things. They met the mascot. They didn't want to watch any more baseball, and I was tired from worrying about how they might fall and crack their heads on the concrete floor.
It was fun. It was exhausting. Here are some great pictures:
It was confirmed today that Karl Rove was indeed the source of Time reporter Cooper's information. The White House, once so staunchly in defense of their main spinster's innocence, is now mum on the subject. In spite of my high hopes for Karl (prison, humiliation, exposure as a political juggernaut), I doubt that anything will come of this, legally or in the media. Except on NPR and PBS. It's not sexy enough for the mainstream, it's too damning for anyone else, and I'd bet public broadcasting listeners are too cowed by his threatening nature to make any noise.
So, there you have it.
In other news, it's a beautiful dusk. It's been raining for a while, my livingroom furniture is damp, the hardwood window sills are fragrant with the scent of old logs, and the fans are on. For the first day in a few weeks, the air conditioning is off and the windows are open. It's a bit sticky, but lord god is it refreshing. There's a healthy breeze blowing down the street and my dog needs a walking in the elements.
So, Judith Miller of the Times is sitting in jail. Conservative commentator Robert Novak is free as a lark, despite being the first to publicize the identity of CIA agent Valerie Plame. With his source's permission, the guy from Time gets to wipe his brow in relief. Journalists everywhere are confused and pissed off about what this all implies for their future investigative efforts.
And we now have our first example of the fallout of this misguided situation and the failure of the Supreme Court to rectify the situation - or at least to hear it out.
Lawyers for The Cleveland Plain Dealer, the largest daily in Ohio, have strongly recommended for the editor, Doug Clifton, to withhold two important investigative pieces from publication. Despite the pieces being of "significant interest to the public," according to Clifton, they will not be released in the short term. The sources for the pieces are confidential, and the information they gave was leaked. The editor and owners of the Plain Dealer fear legal action that would force the journalists to reveal their sources in a situation parallel to the current debacle. Here's the NYT article if you want to read more.
I want to know what information is being withheld. I want to know what Karl Rove has to do with all this. I smell his stink somewhere.
Not too far ahead, the horizon is alternately dark and starry, clear and cloudy. Well, mostly cloudy. But the point is this: big things are over there. Looming things that require attention, care and feeding.
The first of these things was tossed up onto the horizon by my buddy Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. She is resigning from the nation's high court. She beat Rehnquist in the game to get out quickest, fooling pundits and the public, leaving in a whirlwind, her black robes flowing behind her as she smirked her way out of the next session. I was certainly surprised. I had just sighed in relief to hear that the Chief Justice was hanging in there for another go round. And then this.
NOW has pledged to follow through with a resolution to enact civil disobedience if faced with the prospective nomination of a conservative judge from the radical right. Conservatives have pledged to make noise if Gonzales is nominated to replace O'Connor. Right to Life anti-choice groups are mobilizing across the country, preparing to make the most noise without anyone outside of DC hearing it. They are a snarky group. I don't know what the Bush camp has in mind, but someone is going to be pissed off.
As I celebrate my independence, I am taking steps to contribute my time to the Planned Parenthood and NARAL efforts, doing my part to ensure a moderate voice on the Bench. There are several things you can do if this is an issue you care about, especially as it relates to the future of women's rights in this country.
1. Volunteer. 2. Donate. 3. Get your friends to volunteer. 4. Talk about the issues. 5. Call your senators and representatives. 6. Call the White House and tell Bush what you think. 7. Write a letter to the editor about your views. 8. Practice voodoo on the President.* *The least effective, most satisfying option. Combine with at least one other item for maximum results.
On other fronts, the CPB funding was spared from the bloody Republican axe by a good healthy margin. Whew. Yet another non-issue-turned-issue resolved.
Last week, my favorite photographer and I took three kids to their first baseball game ever. I have pictures. They will be posted, with a report of the action, on Tuesday.
