We’re disappointed that the City Council chose to drop its probe into Mayor Herenton’s involvement in last year’s MLGW prepayment to TVA before it got its business done. Granted, the mayor has indicated that the FBI is now (literally) on his case, but the federal bureau itself has said nothing to confirm that fact. So the council’s hand — as member Brent Taylor, a dissenter in the decision, pointed out — was not forced.

And even if the FBI is on the case, there’s no guarantee that it is looking into the same areas the council might have been pursuing. Moreover, congressional investigating committees have not impeded federal prosecutors. On the contrary, their prior spadework has often been of use to them. Witness the Watergate affair.

We have absolutely no reason to suspect improper dealings on the mayor’s part. Yes, he’s determined to have his way about things, but historically he’s been fairly straight-up about that. The fact is, however, that public confidence is not served by slapping a lid back on a pot that has begun to boil — or by turning the heat off altogether.

We wish the council had opted to continue its investigation.

In its 5-4 decision on Monday barring prosecutors from enforcing the Child Online Protection Act, the Supreme Court inched somewhat closer to clarifying two problem areas — pornography and the Internet — that are vexing enough in themselves and doubly so when joined together.

COPA was passed in 1998, a year in which Congress seemed determined to construct explicit parameters for a society in flux. (Another case in point was that year’s Defense of Marriage Act, which attempted to define the institution as exclusively heterosexual.) The Child Online Protection Act made it a crime to publish “any communication for commercial purposes that includes sexual material that is harmful to minors, without restricting access to such material by minors.” It defined “harmful to minors” as lacking “scientific, literary, artistic, or political value” and invoked local “community standards.” COPA provided a maximum penalty of $50,000, along with six months in prison and additional civil fees.

Predictably, the act faced immediate litigation from the A.C.L.U. and other groups, and it ultimately met with an appeals-court injunction staying enforcement. It was that earlier ruling which the high court met to consider. The majority opinion, written by Justice Anthony Kennedy, was joined in by justices Ruth Bader Ginsberg, John Paul Stevens, David H. Souter, and Clarence Thomas. That’s two liberals, two centrists, and an archconservative, and what these justices essentially argued was that, pending a full trial to adjudicate the issues, a filtering system might be preferable to criminal sanctions.

In other words, technology can resolve the issue better than snoops and lawyers. That’s an interesting variation on the old “hair-of-the-dog-that-bit-you” remedy. It’s a novel idea and worth a try.

Almost no Memphian needs to be reminded that our city is the cradle of rock-and-roll. And of the blues. And of “soul.” And of innumerable other streams of popular music, as well as the social revolutions that came with them. So why are we devoting this issue to commemorating the fact? Because, like the city itself, through the Convention & Visitors Bureau and various participating entities, we’re in a mood to celebrate that reality — one that distinguishes us like no other.

We’re a crossroads city, a point of historical contact for races and cultures. We developed traditions early on that allowed various genres of music to develop and flower. Yes, we’re the real deal, and we know it, even though the fact is, we don’t know all the reasons why.

Many of them are summed up in this issue, however, as they are in the current issue of Memphis magazine, our sister publication, and in a comprehensive book that CMI, Inc., our parent organization, will shortly publish in conjunction with the Memphis Convention & Visitors Bureau.

Thanks, Sam. Thanks, Elvis. Thanks, B.B. Thanks, W.C., Ike, Carl, Willie, Otis, Rufus, Carla. Thanks … Well, there’s no end to such a list, once you get started. That’s why we hope you read and enjoy all the aforementioned sources by way of reminder. And by way of celebrating with us.

We are not going to pretend that we have yet read the 900-odd pages of the autobiography of former President Bill Clinton, titled self-absorbedly enough My Life. Nor are we likely to. A unique mix of the well-intentioned and the devious, Mr. Clinton was ever, for better or for worse, prolix, and advance reviews of the book have stressed the unevenness of the portions relating to his two-term presidency.

Yet we welcome the book and consider its appearance in the immediate aftermath of former President Ronald Reagan’s highly public funeral and in the lull before the political conventions of late summer to be both timely and auspicious. As the accolades bestowed on Reagan during his week of remembrance demonstrated, there is an enormous disposition on the part of the American people to forget and forgive or, at least, to forgive. Partisanship tends to be very much a present-tense state of mind. So should it be with Clinton, and it may well be, to judge by the praise bestowed on him by President Bush during the unveiling of the former president’s portrait in the White House last week. (Those interested in grace notes accorded a former adversary, by the way, could do worse than look up the speech delivered by Clinton at the funeral of former President Nixon in 1994.)

Once upon a time, the concept of a loyal opposition was alive and well in this country. It is worth remembering and even reviving as we head into a general election campaign that is almost certain to turn bitter and divisive with attack ads, radio ravings, and generalized intolerant nonsense buffeting voters on all sides.

Mr. Clinton has told us, in several interviews so far, that he has a dark side and a high side and that both are faithfully attested to in his book. The American electorate is similarly conflicted. In dealing with our political figures, it is useful to remember the wise old Hindu saying concerning the best way of beholding anything and everything outside oneself: Omne padme um. “I am that.”

The current Memphis City Schools policy toward corporal punishment says it is permissible “in cases meriting such action. Generally speaking, other means of punishment should be tried before resorting to this method of discipline.”

As of press time, the school district’s community forum on corporal punishment had not yet begun. We hope, however, that the community and the district will want to rethink this policy.

Though it says teachers must get the permission of an administrator to use corporal punishment, the policy gives teachers a pass to hit students. And in light of recent situations the Hamilton High basketball coach who was suspended from coaching indefinitely because he used corporal punishment and verbal abuse with his student athletes, or the Hickory Ridge Middle School choir teacher who was reprimanded for using too much force it seems teachers sometimes do not understand what offenses merit such action.

The corporal punishment policy was first adopted in 1958. It has been revised twice since them, in 1963 and 1982. It may be time to suspend it indefinitely, as well.

Earlier this week, Governor Phil Bredesen announced the establishment of a new Office of Children’s Care designed, he said, to coordinate services and programs for children across the state.

“We have too many children in Tennessee who are falling through the cracks,” said the governor. “We are asking [the new office] to start focusing on health-care issues first. I have high hopes for this office, and the children of Tennessee deserve no less.”

Bredesen said he intended that the new office not be just another bureaucracy but one that could pull together existing positions within the state.

That’s all good, considering that he announced the creation of the office just prior to a meeting of his regular Children’s Cabinet, a 13-member group formed by the governor last March with the aim of “coordinating and streamlining the state’s efforts” on behalf of Tennessee’s children. What does the new office add to what’s already there? Asked about that, gubernatorial spokesperson Lydia Lenker said merely that no specific duties of the new office have yet been formulated.

That’s one mystery. Another stems from the almost anticlimactic announcement by Bredesen that he was asking current TennCare director Manny Martins to head the new department, which is to be structured as an administrative arm of the governor’s office itself.

Compounding the sense of surprise, Martins had confided word of his reassignment to TennCare associates only on Monday. Having served as TennCare deputy commissioner since July 2002, Martins will vacate that position in early July concluding what may turn out to have been the most turbulent phase of the troubled health-care agency’s existence. No word yet on a possible replacement.

“To my knowledge, there’s not a line of people at the door [for the TennCare position],” said bureau spokesperson Michael Drescher something of an understatement concerning an agency that has been newly slated for the chopping block and which some legislators still want to eliminate altogether.

Drescher said further about Martins’ departure from TennCare: “It is widely known that he is committed to kids and this is another way for him to work with them. We’re going to have to fill the slot, but his absence is not going to make us miss any crucial time frames or deadlines.”

In the background of the Martins job switch is the fact that several state audits found a lack of coordination between the departments of Children’s Services, Human Services, and TennCare itself. A recent suit filed by the Tennessee Justice Center, in fact, cited TennCare for failing to formulate a health-care improvement plan for the state’s children.

Several questions remain: Does the reassignment of Manny Martins indicate that his special talents are required on the front end of a new governmental undertaking? Does it mean that a significant part of the action is shifting from his old agency to his new one? Is the move a kick upstairs? Or a planned rescue from a sinking ship?

One thing we have learned already about the administration of Governor Phil Bredesen is that he makes few moves that are merely symbolic in nature. This newest one should be closely watched for what it reveals about the shape of things to come in state government.

It would be disingenuous for us to pretend that we are uncritical admirers of the performance in office of the late President Ronald Reagan. As one example, the attempt during his administration to classify ketchup as a vegetable in federal school lunch programs bespoke what seemed at times an unfeeling attitude toward necessary social programs and their funding.

And there is no way to dress up the Iran/Contra scandal — which saw arms bargains struck with the mad Ayatollah Khomeini of Iran in order to fund an unnecessary war against a mildly Marxist government in Nicaragua.

There are other matters to which we could take exception. But it would be improper and even more disingenuous if we did not sing some of the praises of the man who played the gallant and tragic Notre Dame halfback George Gipp in the movies and lived on to play a gallant and partly tragic role himself, on the largest stage possible.

When Mikhail Gorbachev, his Soviet counterpart of the time, described Reagan after his death this week as a “great” president, we knew what he meant. Besides conducting himself with the admirable style and aura which also marked his movie career (no doubt, the man was likable!), Reagan proved capable ultimately of a kind of grandeur, and, in relations with our principal antagonist, the Soviet Union, his mixture of toughness and negotiation may well have yielded, first, a liberalization of that regime, then arms agreements with it, and, finally, its breakdown and complete transformation — one which still proceeds.

It was a shame that a man who moved so easily and inspiringly among his fellow citizens could not, during the 10-year “long goodbye” which characterized his final decline from Alzheimer’s, even enjoy the company of his beloved wife, Nancy.

Many will miss him. For our own good reasons, so do we.

Last week’s meeting of the Memphis school board’s CIP committee was characterized by a long overdue discussion about what to do with underutilized schools in the system. Board president Patrice Robinson and member Deni Hirsch were both on point when they spoke the previously unspeakable.

Said Robinson, regarding the idea of closing some schools: “When we finish looking at the data [concerning various ‘life safety’ needs in capital improvement spending], we may have to enter into some conversations.” Hirsch agreed: The commissioners would have to “look at the cost effectiveness of repairing the buildings in relation to the utilization rate” (boardspeak for “close them instead of fixing them, if they’re not being adequately used”).

That modest move toward sanity was impeded by longtime member Hubon “Dutch” Sandridge, who kept intoning the mantra-like refrain, “We are not about to close a school in the city of Memphis.”

What makes such a diehard position all the more silly is that new and better schools could be designed and built in a manner more in keeping with the district’s current “neighborhood-schools” concept if funds were not committed to the maintenance or improvement of facilities that have clearly outlived their time. Some of the older and more decrepit school buildings serve neighborhoods that no longer exist.

Yes, by all means start the conversations. If Sandridge wants to sit through meetings chanting his mantra, let him. But by no means should he be allowed to stop the more enlightened members of the board from doing their duty, which is to spend the public’s education dollar wisely and in the best interests of our children.

This week brings the 2004 FedEx St. Jude Classic, the latest version of a PGA tournament that has existed in Memphis since 1958 and has showcased, and even inaugurated, some notable careers. Ben Hogan has played here and Jack Nicklaus, and Arnold Palmer, and … well, you name them.

Unfortunately, the list does not include — and never has — the one name that symbolizes big-time golf these days: Tiger Woods. Though Woods does not dominate the game as he once did, he is still its premier player — arguably the best of all time — and its biggest draw by far. At a time when, to put it candidly, the FESJC no longer features the very top tier of PGA tour contenders, Woods is the one marquee player whose presence could draw the others in.

Tournament director Phil Cannon performs prodigiously to attract a quality field. Among the factors that have made his task more difficult over the years are those of the calendar (often the tournament has been scheduled for mid- to late summer in Memphis’ customarily blistering heat) and the perception that the Southwind tournament site isn’t among the tour’s most challenging. But the prize money for the FESJC — $846,000 for the winner; $4.7 million in all — is right up there, and all the tournament requires to claim its place on the leaderboards is a boost of the sort that an appearance by Woods could provide.

This might be a job for Memphis mayor Willie Herenton, who played a significant role in attracting to Memphis the 2002 “Fight of the Century” between then heavyweight champion Lennox Lewis and the number one challenger Mike Tyson. Perhaps the mayor should make it a personal mission to pitch golf’s leading player, who, whether he chooses such a role or not, symbolizes diversity in a sport that was once only a game for white “gentlemen.”

“Cautious but dubious” is a fair description of the reaction of Memphis City Schools superintendent Carol Johnson to U.S. senator Lamar Alexander’s new proposal for $500 “Pell Grants” for middle- and low-income families with school-age children. And it’s a fair description of our reaction as well.

The grants, modeled after the Pell Grants now awarded college students, would follow a child from school to school — which is to say, from public school to private school to religious-oriented institution or wherever the child’s parents preferred. “I need to know more,” said Johnson after hearing Alexander pitch his proposal at a meeting of the Memphis Rotary Club Tuesday. But, she said, “A lot of people would tend to see that as a Trojan horse, unfriendly to public schools.”

Senator Alexander has in some ways been an independent voice in the Senate, willing to depart from Republican orthodoxy on matters ranging from No Child Left Behind to the question of whether states should be allowed to levy Internet taxes. But the senator seems to us somewhat off the mark with his child-grant proposal. First, what he calls “Pell Grants” is the same old school-voucher proposal by the back door: public money used to compete with public education. Secondly, it makes no sense to give President Bush a blank check in Iraq and pretend that there will be what Alexander calls “new money” left over.

We can’t give this proposal — as presently configured, anyhow — a passing mark. n