Month: November 2000

As theater went, this past giddy post-election week in Florida has lacked very little. Sturm und drang, nail-biting suspense, courtroom dramatics, even the pathos of Holocaust survivors realizing the horror of their having voted inadvertently for Pat Buchanan, the only bona fide Hitler groupie among modern American politicians. Oh, and Jesse Jackson.

Only the leading players have been unsuitable– Dubya with his gigantic bandaged boil (probably psychogenic) and Gore with that silly pasted-on smile at his Monday non-press-conference press conference. (Oh well, what do they say about growth in office?)

The press and the rest of the politicians have for the most part been superb– something like a well-directed cast of extras in one of those vintage DeMille spectacles with a moral lesson at its core.

But lookit, villainy and disingenuousness are to be expected of the pols in such a drama. Of course, it’s churlish for Bush and Karen Hughes and James Baker to strain so hard to prevent punchcard ballots being examined closely to determine if machines missed the attampted votes in them. People Before Machines is a mantra no would-be public servant should need to be coached in, even if you’re desperate to protect your lead.

Nor do we doubt that, the tables being turned, the Democrats would be acting with the same measure of deviousness.

But, hark, what is this?: “Another week and no more. By next weekend, a group of scholars and senior politicians interviewed this weekend agreed, the presidential race of 2000 must be resolved, without recourse to the courts. With remarkable unanimity, they said that would be in the nation’s best interests and, in the last analysis, those of the candidates, Vice President Al Gore and Gov. George W. Bush of Texas. . . .”

This solemn pronouncement is the lead item in a longish Page One article in Monday’s New York Times by the well-Established R.W. Apple, and it carries all the harrumph-harrumph no-brooking-dissent authority of journalism’s Good Gray Lady. And, as the article develops, there is no letup in its dogmatic certainties.

Well, with all due respect to Mr. Apple and his no doubt estimable group of scholars and senior politicians, they can take their remarkable unanimity and put it where the moon don’t shine.

As it happens, democracy in general and elections in particular are not about unanimity, remarkable or otherwise. They are exercises in decision-making via diversity, and it is for this reason that supporters of the Gore-Lieberman ticket would be well advised to put aside their understandable wrath concerning the possibly lethal raids of the extraneous Mr. Nader upon their voter base.

And what is this dubious insistence on “another week” and no more all about? As the Constitution is now writ, there is a break of between five and six weeks between a presidential election and the date when electors from the 50 states are expected to gather in Washington to express the will of their constituents. And after that date another five weeks passes before the newly elected president is actually sworn in.

Clearly, these elongated timetables came into being to serve an earlier age of poorer transportation and less rapid communication. In the age of jet-lag and universal television and the Internet it serves no great purpose to wait around so long, as if to let the rains die down for the labored passage of a stagecoach or a mailwagon.

The fact is, however, that, because of this residual archaism, we have all the time in the world and no reason whatsoever for hurrying to bring about a presidential transition. Mr. Bush has already made it obvious, through a couple of ill-staged photo ops, that he is so far down the line of creating his cabinet that it would take him maybe twenty minutes at tops to complete the job. And Mr. Gore needs only move his office down the hall, as it were.

Given the importance of the decision we are in the process of making– and, for that matter, the pure consciousness-raising fun we’re all having in this delicious unanticipated overtime (more than in the four previous quarters put together)– how dare someone presume to tell us “another week and no more!”

The Republicans have so far disadvantaged themselves by missing deadlines that might have allowed them, too, to catch up with the Democrats in filing for recounts in Florida and elsewhere. It’s all right with us if those deadlines are waived to give Republicans their own shot at accuracy in close states or in areas known to favor the GOP. This is not about one party’s taking advantage of another, nor is it about the preferences of scholars or the convenience of politicians, senior or otherwise.

This is an affair of the people. It goes by the name of democracy, and we’ll take our sweet time counting the votes, thank you, on the not-so-quaint premise that every vote cast in a free election needs to be counted, and counted correctly.

(You can write Jackson Baker at Baker@memphisflyer.com.)

According to John Barry’s The Rising Tide, The Mississippi River is “20 percent larger than China’s Yellow River [and] fifteen times that of Europe’s Rhine.” These numbers make it easy to see that taming such a beast is “a mighty task”

Historically, Memphis has had little large-scale success in co-habituating the River and City, settling instead for pockets of interest in projects like Mud Island, The Pyramid, and Tom Lee Park.

While few argue with the value of these attractions to the city, no real connection between them exists. The effect is a hodge-podge of attractions which do not encourage pedestrian cross-traffic.

That’s something that Benny Lendermon, president of the Riverfront Development Corporation (RDC), wants to change. The RDC’s goal is to bring together the various elements of the river in such a way that increases use of downtown facilities and promotes a better image for Memphis.

All this is easier said than done. Even if Memphis had an unlimited budget (which it does not), and even if the RDC could please everyone (which it probably will not), this would be a formidable undertaking. As it stands, Lendermon and the RDC are charged with changing the course of history for an entire city in a way that is affordable and popular.

Such a task requires planning, says Lendermon, which requires gathering input from Memphians. “If you do the best, you’re doing what Memphis wants. What we don’t want are a number of designers doing only what they want.”

Lendermon, the RDC, and the consultant groups Cooper-Robertson & Partners, Civitas, Hamilton Rabinovitz & Alschuler, and PDR Engineers have been listening to citizens via Internet message boards and town meetings.

The result so far is the formulation of ten design principles, as set forth in a memo by Cooper-Robertson & Partners. Each principle outlines general goals for the project. For example, the first principle is called, “The Riverfront,” a plan to “create a continuous, publicly accessible Riverfront. The Riverfront design will explore three components: a linked system of parks, a ‘Riverside Drive,’ and connections back to the City.”

The latter translates into plans for extending Beale Street, Poplar Avenue, Union Avenue, North Parkway, and Chelsea Street down to the river. The improvements are geared to better connect Memphis with its riverfront and to link the area neighborhoods (i.e. South Pickering, Pinch District, and Manassas) with amenities such as grocery stores and entertainment options.

Lendermon says that these streets need to reach the river so that people can better access the waterfront. Says Lendermon, “Poplar Avenue is our ‘Peachtree’ (Atlanta’s main thoroughfare) and it doesn’t get to the river.” In addition, there is an ambitious proposal to link Riverside Drive to Front Street and to a loop around Mud Island, so that Riverside would become a recursive element instead of ending at an on-ramp to the I-40 bridge.

By connecting neighborhoods and amenities, Lendermon hopes to encourage more people to live downtown, though he notes the real-estate business is already booming. “Downtown is going to change because of residential and retail growth. It’s incredible.”

According to Lendermon, other big changes can happen downtown. “When you redo Mud Island [for example], it’s going to be a significant investment.” The money for these projects is coming from a number of different sources: $8 million from the state, $3 million from the federal government, and the rest from the city.

Lendermon believes that Mud Island will eventually become a focal point for downtown activity. He envisions a multi-use park and gathering place at the Island’s southern tip, while the rest of the Island might be converted into retail space, hotels, or a nature preserve with bike and walking trails. Or the final result could be a combination of these things. “You need these types of mixed-use structures,” Lendermon says.

Lendermon says that the RDC must be careful to balance the use of space with market need. “Does that mean we’re going to run out of space?” He asks. “No, we have a long way to go. [However] we have to see what the market will bear.”

Memphis has long suffered a disconnected riverfront. The city has never fully capitalized on the natural resources and beauty inherent to the area. Bringing together two hundred years of developments into one coherent plan is not something that the city should expect one group to accomplish in a short amount of time. Still, the RDC seems off to a smart beginning, one which could enhance the area for generations to come.

(You can write Chris Przybyszewski at chris@memphisflyer.com)

Okay, admit it. This week’s been a hell of a lot of fun. Unless you got all F’s in American History in high school, you’ve enjoyed the spectacle of the first presidential Election Day quadruple-overtime since Teddy Roosevelt was in knickers. Like me, you’ve probably dusted off that old copy of Gore Vidal’s 1876, and already know that Samuel Tilden shoulda, coulda, mighta won that equally controversial presidential election 124 years ago.

So far at least, it’s been fun. And given the fact that none of them have ever been here before, the two protagonists have comported themselves fairly well. Sure, the Bush campaign has been a little childish with its posturing about transition teams and making a show of preparing, in unseemly fashion, for the Big Show. And Bill Daley and Warren Christopher ended up looking like idiots Wednesday afternoon, with their sabre-rattling about the shenanigans in Palm Beach County. (Never before has my recently-deceased mother’s long-time admonition, “God gave you two ears and one mouth, and you should use them in that proportion,” rung so true.)

But all in all, candidates Bush and Gore haven’t done too badly. There’s nothing illegal about posturing; no long-term consequences of trying to out-maneuver your opponent, as both sides clearly have attempted to do. So far, at least, neither has done anything that they should be terribly ashamed of doing.

Until this morning. At 9:30 a.m. Memphis time, former Secretary of State James Baker, Governor Bush’s “prevailing legal authority” in the Florida vote-count mess, announced that the Republicans would be seeking an immediate court injunction to prevent a Gore-requested manual recount of the votes in four Florida counties.

You can get all the details from MSNBC or CNN, where the “talking heads,” I’m sure, are already spinning. But the Republicans have now taken their game to a new level. By interfering with the established process of the Florida electoral system — in what is evidently a heavy-handed attempt to “shame” Vice President Gore out of the race — they have not only been guilty of shameless political interference in that process; they have cast a real pall over this unique election, one that will leave a cloud for decades and centuries to come.

Think about it. Secretary Baker argues that “manual” counts are a real “problem,” that they introduce as more error into the process, not less. Talk about insults, not just to the current generation of Florida election workers, but to anyone and everyone who’s ever worked on an election campaign. Does Mr. Baker not think that, with proper supervision, and with oversight by representatives of both parties, the people of Florida can count?

This is a truly remarkable assertion.

Moreover, keep in mind what former Carter aide Patrick Caudell on MSNBC has been reminding all of us for days now, namely, that we haven’t actually had any recount yet. What Florida has done is simply recalculate the returns submitted by individual wards and precincts throughout Florida. No votes within these precincts have actually been recounted. And if Mr. Baker has his way, they never will be.

No matter that merely a few hundred votes separate the candidates; Mr. Baker would have us believe that “enough is enough,” and it’s time to get on with the business of transitioning towards a Bush administration. Sound familiar? I think there’s a guy named Fujimora down in Peru who’s pulled exactly this kind of stunt on more than one occasion. As far as the past, well, I’m afraid you’ll have to go beyond American history to find anything remotely parallel. I can suggest, however, some names of some European countries to research, if you’d like.

I expect the Democratic Party’s response to all this will be, shall we say, strong. And shrill (what else?). But if they had any political sense — which, after the seriously inept Gore campaign, I seriously doubt — the Democrats would say nothing whatsoever. In fact, from a long-term political perspective, they should be hoping for a judge to endorse Secretary Baker’s motion. Then — assuming the vote total in Florida goes Bush’s way — we’ll have a new administration taking office in January, on the strength of legally stifling a vote recount in Florida, a state governed, by the way, by the new president’s brother. Talk about mandates. Talk about the “appearance of impropriety.” If leaders of the Bush team think they’ll be able to govern after such an auspicious beginning, they really have spent too much time in South America.

[ Kenneth Neill is the founder and publisher/CEO of The Memphis Flyer. ]

It was just before twilight on a warm summer evening, as I finished the last two blocks of my daily walk. Although drenched in sweat and eager for air conditioning, I still drew pleasure from the sensual joys around me– fireflies flashing like tiny heat lamps, crickets raising their fine, shrill chorus, birds twittering in a magnolia tree as they settled in for the night.

Then my quiet joy was shattered. A car glided past, its windows down, its speakers blaring. And from its depths came a rap song’s message. A message so full of hate, so littered with foul words describing women and their body parts, that I felt a cold shiver on that hot August night.

Oh, I’ve heard these words before, these so-called “songs.” You’d have to live in a cave to avoid them since “gangsta rap” hit mainstream culture some 15 years ago. Usually they assault me when I’m idling next to another car in traffic, and at times I’ve responded by rolling down my window, turning up my own radio full blast,… and. … drowning out the obscenities with whatever might be playing– “Strangers in the Night,” “Summer Breeze”– and I laugh at myself as Seals and Crofts try to quell Snoop Doggy Dog.

That night, though, it was no laughing matter. I was stunned, angry, sick at heart. When did it become okay to unleash this perverted excuse for music on the airwaves? When did the rights of some misogynist take precedence over my right to enjoy an evening walk? When did it become okay to defile women– to defile humans– and call it art? It’s not okay.

Indeed there’s so much that’s not okay, so much that we as a society–especially those of us who try to be open-minded, to live and let live–are forced to accept or feel helpless to change. Fearful of taking action, of being labeled as some right-wing nut, we shrug these things off, shut them out, say, “It’s a free country,” as if that excuses everything.

It’s not okay that a record number of Tennessee children have been surrendered to the state because their parents can’t handle them anymore, or have been taken into custody because mom and dad would rather smoke, snort, shoot up, and pass out than give their kids a decent life. It’s not okay that hundreds of these kids have been beaten, burned, or raped by family members, and have spent half of their young lives in foster homes.

It’s not okay that the only form of discipline some parents know is to scream and curse. Not long ago outside a convenience store, I witnessed two young women yanking at a little boy whose only crime seemed to be his presence on the earth. “Get in the car, m_____ f_____!” yelled one of these so-called adults. “Get in the car before I bust your ass!”

I stared, glared, wanting to vent my horror at this person for screaming the vilest epithet imaginable at a preschool child. Instead I watched the women drive away, their tongues still lashing, the boy in tears. I kept my mouth shut, and lived to tell about it, thinking any comments from me would only make things worse.

Well, evil prevails when good men do nothing. Or so a good man said, and I wince now to recall those words.

It’s not okay that half the children born in Shelby County are illegitimate — an old-fashioned word that will draw some smirks, I’m sure. But we’ve got girls — and I do mean girls, not women — having six kids before they’re 19 years old, girls who themselves dropped out of school, barely know their babies’ daddies, work at low-paying jobs, or live on the dole. Who can deny the price we pay for this — more unemployment, more illiteracy, and countless social ills. Meanwhile, too many of these kids are sent to school unfed, unwashed, unloved, and unprepared, while teachers are expected to pull them from the mire.

We raise hell with programs like Head Start for not fulfilling their obligations to at-risk children; we find fault with schools, day-care centers, the Department of Children’s Services — and God knows there’s sufficient blame to go around. But what about the parents? How about holding them accountable for having children they can’t raise? I know this strikes at the very core of our rights as individuals. And I can already hear the hue and cry from the American Civil Liberties Union. But where does it end? When do we say, “This is crazy. It’s pulling us down and has to stop.”

Certainly there are many single moms who are doing a heroic job of child-raising while working multiple jobs, with support from fathers that’s sporadic at best. Others have made a conscious decision to have a child on their own, knowing they can provide for that little one, and their decision I respect. Still other single women are reaching out to other people’s castoffs, fostering or adopting kids in need, and these have my profound admiration.

But what I can’t respect are parents who shun the responsibilities that come with their rights — the men who plant their seed with no more thought than tossing a beer bottle in the street; the women who, despite access to free birth control, crank out these babies like they were a chain of paper dolls — and expect their families or the government to subsidize their care, or take the children off their hands.

For awhile I volunteered in the pediatric critical care unit of a local hospital, rocking, feeding, and simply holding babies with serious physical problems. Several were “crack” babies, born to mothers addicted to drugs and thus addicted themselves. They cried a lot, I recall, and could not be comforted. Some had been abused in other ways; at least one had “shaken baby” syndrome. She was beautiful, like a big porcelain doll, with blue eyes that could no longer see and legs that stayed bent and contorted. But the saddest ones were those who had virtually been abandoned, who throughout the months of their stay there had rarely known the comfort of their mothers’ arms. “We’re giving the mother one more chance,” a nurse once told me while she changed the feeding tube on a baby girl whose stomach wouldn’t work properly. “She hasn’t been up here in weeks, so we’ll have to call the state.” And what about the father? The nurse just smiled and shook her head.

What does all this have to do with gangsta rap, with the savage message that blasted through me that August night? Maybe nothing, maybe everything. A couple of years ago I wrote an article on the high number of babies born to low-income, unwed mothers in Memphis. Because some 70 percent of the mothers were nonwhite (according to local health department figures), I asked Johnnie Turner, head of the local office of the NAACP, her thoughts on the issue. She said that while the organization’s youth council encouraged productive activities so “kids wouldn’t get into trouble,” outside influences take their toll.

Said Turner: “Kids hear rap music that glorifies sex and abuse of women, they see movies where anything goes. They’ve got parents who won’t talk to them about sex and will let them watch anything on television. But worst of all, there’s no stigma. It’s become so accepted.”

I know rap has its defenders, and indeed other types of music contain their share of offensive lyrics, while the media bombards us with sex and violence — all in the name of freedom of expression. But again — what of the responsibility that comes with that freedom?

Recently I read where a Hollywood type was whining about “veiled threats of censorship,” saying he liked to “push the envelope.” I say he and his ilk like to push the shock button till it bleeds, and good taste and common decency be damned.

Maybe gangsta rap truly reflects the hard, ugly reality of ghetto life and one of art’s functions is to hold a mirror to ourselves. And some of the lyrics no doubt offer poignant glimpses of the hope-forsaken life too many young blacks face — if you can get past the hateful talk of “bitches and ho’s” and the vicious acts the singer has in mind for these women. Consider the old blues artists, who sang their own brand of sorrow and despair and lived as hardscrabble a life as any rapper ever faced. Their songs could be bawdy, yes — but brutal and profane? I don’t think so.

As my anger finally cooled that evening, I felt pity for the guy in the car who, instead of hearing birdsong and children’s laughter, filled his head with hate and violence. To each his own? So they tell us. Just don’t suggest that I could “turn it off.” I didn’t have that option.

But even as our culture hits new lows, there’s much to celebrate. Parents and children who rise above bleak expectations; people who help and don’t count the cost; and yes, movies, books, music, and art that elevate and inspire.

Later that night I recalled words spoken by William Faulkner when he accepted the Nobel Prize in 1950, words that represent for me what the best art can achieve. While the thoughts of a dead white man aren’t likely to sell with the ghetto gang, they still hold true, a half-century later:

“It’s a privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor . . . the compassion, pity, and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the . . . pillars to help him endure and prevail.”

Lifting hearts. Showing honor and compassion . . . . I wish more rappers would give it a shot.

[This article originally appeared in Memphis magazine.]

(You can write Marilyn Sadler at sadler@memphismagazine.com)

If anyone in Memphis can appreciate what George W. Bush and Al Gore are going through now, it’s former mayor Dick Hackett.

In the 1991 mayoral election, Hackett lost to Willie Herenton by 142 votes out of 247,973 votes cast. As the last ballots were being counted, aides urged Hackett to continue to fight, even if it meant challenging certain precincts. Instead, he told his supporters to go home and go to bed and to let the results stand.

“I had some information from the police department that there were starting to be some disturbances and some potential disturbances,” Hackett recalled this week. “As a result of that, I made a decision as mayor and said, ‘let’s all go home, sleep on it,’ and I sent everybody home.”

Hackett said Tennessee law would have required a showing of fraudulent voting and the allegations would surely have gone to court. There is no recount provision. Still, his advisers wanted him to fight somehow.

“I would say my advisers were 99 percent opposed to me doing what I did, initially at least. Since all of this has happened, 100 percent have come back and said, “I know I told you not to do that but you did the right thing.’”

Like this historic presidential contest, the 1991 mayoral race featured pre-election polls which showed a close race, then a suspense-filled ballot count in which the lead changed hands as precincts reported. The final victory margin wasn’t established until days after the election. There was even a spoiler ala Ralph Nader — Robert “Prince Mongo” Hodges, who got 2,923 votes.

There were also charges of voting irregularities, which Hackett chose to ignore. His thinking, he says today, was driven partly by statesmanship and partly by the knowledge that the irregularities probably cut both ways.

“Sure there were inequities, but I think there were inequities on both sides,” he said. “If someone moves from the city of Memphis to Shelby County and comes back to Memphis to vote, that is an illegal vote. At least my hunch is that is an illegal vote. Bottom line: you can find fraudulent votes on both sides. What was in the best interest of the community was for me to not start that warfare.”

Hackett has little sympathy for claims of some Florida voters that they could not understand the ballot and therefore voted for Pat Buchanan or for more than one candidate.

“If you were in a restaurant and spilled a glass of tea, would you not call a waitress to help you? If I voted for two people I think I would turn around and say “Oh my gosh, look what I have done,’ and get some help.”

And he has no regrets for the decision he made nine years ago. “I feel stronger about what I did today than I did when I did it,” he said.

(You can write John Branston at branston @memphismagazine.com)