Hot doggin' in Congress

I guess it could have been scripted better had his name been Senator Pole, Representative Longfellow or Secretary Johnson. Suffice it to say that as names go, though, Congressman Weiner is pretty funny considering what he finally fessed up to. A respected member of the august body of the United States House of Representatives elected to take a picture of his own august body and send it anonymously through his Twitter account to a woman he didn't even know. This smacks of either complete stupidity or, more to the point, is overwhelming evidence that this congressman apparently had way too much time on his hands. At first Anthony Weiner categorically denied he had ever done such a thing. After all, he was recently married to a staffer from Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's office. It should be patently obvious from all of the interest surrounding her husband's own philandering that anyone connected to Hillary would be sensitive to avoid anything smacking of sexual indiscretion. I would expect his embarrassed wife may have her husband in the proverbial doghouse for some time to come. Yet, unless she learns of something other than this peccadillo, she should probably be lenient. After all, to his small credit Congressman Weiner did not do anything physical to anyone. There was no cigar involved and no one was tapping on a bathroom stall. The only thing he touched was the send button. In today's cyber world of social networking the opportunity to reach out and touch someone has never seemed so real nor have the lines blurred as to what is appropriate or intelligent when using hand-held devices. Ever since man devised a way to capture the human form - whether that be on the walls of caves, atop a sheet of canvas or through a photographic lens - the idea of displaying body parts has not lurked far behind. We are reminded of Greek and Roman statues, not the least of which we may recall the Venus di Milo. Leonardo da Vinci was famous for his renderings of the human body, many of which were drawn from corpses he arranged to view for added realism. The explosion of nudes in art may have begun in the Renaissance, but found its way into other periods of art including the cubist period championed by the bawdy Mr. Picasso himself. The sexual side of man's nature has always been a challenge as to what society deems is appropriate. The still photography of yesteryear has evolved into film and videos with high definition and 3-D effects. With today's new technology the envelope is constantly being pushed. A 14-year-old girl with a crush on a high school junior sends him a picture she snapped in the mirror of her breasts. Although it may seem innocent to some or as a misguided and ill-advised way to get his attention, the law has a way of viewing it. Child pornography. If the recipient passes it along to someone else over a cellphone or from his computer (and what teenager boy would ever do such a thing?), he is probably guilty of violating federal law by trafficking in child pornography. One image is all the law requires. A conviction could follow and he could be considered a sexual offender for the rest of his life. This is very scary stuff. This is also not Las Vegas: "What goes up on the Internet stays on the Internet." That includes Facebook and My Space postings and unlike our frail bodies that will eventually give way to dust, cyber images will never fade as long as there's a chipset lying around. So, Congressman Weiner has taught us another valuable lesson and provided for us a cautionary tale. Despite a call from House Minority Leader Pelosi for an investigation from the Ethics Committee, he refuses to resign and is hoping to move on. I hope he is successful and learns above everything else that lying to the press is not the best course. Despite the glee from comic writers across the globe, the Honorable Mr. Weiner has admitted the truth after what essentially was a relentless hounding by members of the press. Unless he is an idiot (an accusation of which many politicians have been accused along the Beltway), he should never again be accused of tweeting images of his Vienna sausage or kosher salami. There will be none of that for this weiner and being in this pickle has hardly been a picnic.

Bobby and Papa Dave

Although I had been on a plane to Miami as an infant, I never left New Orleans for purposes of leisure until 1968. I was 14 years old and my 65-year-old maternal grandfather David Smith (for whom my son is named) decided to take a chance on me. He had not traveled with me before and as it turned out, he would not travel with me ever again. But let me not get ahead of myself. The destination for the trip was San Antonio, the site of the historic Alamo and the world exposition known as the HemisFair. It was the first world's fair since the gigantic 1964-65 New York World's Fair. My maternal grandmother had made no secret she wanted no part of traveling to the Big Apple with her only grandson. She elected to take my younger sister. As any kid who feels left out, I must admit I was quite jealous not to be able to experience the thrill of seeing the displays and exhibits or to enjoy the rides there. No, I had not been chosen to see the twin Observatory Towers or the iconic Unisphere. Instead, I was headed for the Tower of the Americas, the 750-foot tower, that stood as the symbol of the world's fair titled "The Confluence of Civilizations in America." My grandfather and I boarded a Delta Airlines flight with an open-ended return. In retrospect I was not the best choice of a traveling partner for my grandfather. He was very set in his ways. Every morning we had to find a place that would serve him his shredded wheat cereal with hot milk. Nevermind it was 90 degrees outside. He wanted hot milk. He also retained a pronounced Eastern European Jewish accent, which was an embarrassment to an over energetic and insensitive teenager like me. We stayed across a broad avenue from the fair at the brand new Palacio del Rio, a Hilton Hotel that had been constructed by innovative modular design in a record 221 days. The hotel had taken advantage of the site nestled against the newly-restored San Antonio River and its new River Walk, an amazing achievement. By most standards the HemisFair was successful. It transformed the decaying downtown area into one of positive growth and progress and made the once putrid waters of the San Antonio River clear and navigable for tourism. Boat tours began plying along the water then which still run to this day. The grounds have been rededicated there as HemisFair Park and the city's modern convention center occupies much of its area today. The time my grandfather chose to travel - the beginning of June - was fraught with uncertainty. The presidential campaign was moving ahead, but race relations were frayed following the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., which had occurred only two months previous. Eugene McCarthy, an anti-war candidate, had a large number of electors promised and Vice-President Hubert Humphrey was picking up steam, but no one Democratic candidate seemed to be able to reign in Senator Robert Fitzgerald Kennedy, the former Attorney General and brother of slain president John Kennedy. The Democratic National Convention was going to be held in August in Chicago and anti-war fever was beginning to increase. I watched the news voraciously because I admired Kennedy and his thoughts about how he could help transform America into a better place. I thought his chances to capture the Democratic nomination were much better than most suggested. He had charisma and he had momentum. The time was very late (well after 1 a.m. in San Antonio) when I watched the news that Kennedy had won the California Primary. He announced that it was time for them to move on to Chicago, a reminder that the battle for the nomination still needed to be won. I remember thinking here was the next President of the United States. My grandfather was trying to sleep, so as soon as I thought everything was over, I turned off the TV. History tells us now that had I waited to turn off the set another five or ten minutes I would have been privy to the live transmission that occurred at the time when Sirhan Sirhan trained his weapon and fatally shot the Senator. The morning papers had special editions at the newsstands and network television was all over the story when we rose later in the morning. By the time Kennedy finally succumbed from his wounds later in the day, my grandfather had decided that enough was enough. He had had enough of his grandson, who made fun of his having to have hot milk with his shredded wheat every morning and who kept him up watching TV late at night. That evening we were winging our way back to New Orleans, the trip cut down from a week to four days. Today marks the 43rd anniversary of that trip to San Antonio and Kennedy's assassination. My grandfather and I made peace some years later, but he never took me away on a trip again and I guess I can't blame him. Had I known then what I know now, perhaps I would have been a bit less trying and a lot more respectful. But the Almighty in his infinite wisdom has designed teenagers to operate outside of the loop of proper behavior as defined by grandparents. The price of wisdom is the cost of recognizing the folly of our youth. Today I recall both Bobby Kennedy and my grandfather, both of whom are gone and both of whom I shant ever forget.

The rapture to come or just another Shabbat

It is interesting how quickly things spread over the Internet these days. It would seem that much of the traffic comes in waves. When the New Zealand earthquake and Japanese tsunami devastated those countries, the chatter was at a very high level and then tapered off. The same things occurred after the Navy Seals dispatched Osama Bin Laden. E-mails, Facebook entries and connections spiked at a very high level and have only recently leveled to what might be called normal levels. It would seem that the prediction by a San Francisco preacher, Harold Camping, of the imminent return to Earth of Jesus has all the earmarkings for thousands of devout Christians of another high water Internet event. It also has the naysayers, atheists and other religious leaders who disagree standing on the sidelines and waiting so they can ridicule this non-event on May 22. As a non-Christian, it is important for me to be supportive of those who wish to ascend to heaven this Saturday. However, as I clearly will not be in that number, I also hope they will not be too upset with me if I arrange my schedule accordingly. Why Camping has received so much interest, particularly when one looks at his track record (he originally predicted a similar event would occur back in 1994), is beyond my understanding. Too many people with nothing else to do, I guess. No, I think I will look on Saturday as just another Shabbat, a day dedicated to rest and peace and quiet introspection. If I'm right, all of this discussion will be thrown on the trash heap of yesterday's Internet chatter and if I'm wrong, it won't really matter. Meanwhile, I hope that Rev. Camping hasn't stopped paying his bills. He may find out his creditors are not nearly as forgiving as his fellow Christians and others will be on Sunday.

From April to May Day

©2011 Time.com

The last few weeks have left me shell shocked. No, I wasn't necessarily caught in the whirlwind surrounding the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton (or as NBC kept referring to it "the wedding of the century"). It was more a succession of events that included the celebration of Passover and a number of deadlines, not the least of which was that which revolved about the IRS and taking care of my tax liabilities. And then there was work. I have been extraordinarily busy, which is a good thing. I have had very little time to attend to my writing, which is regrettable. In fact, this is the slowest period of blog activity I have had since I took to writing my thoughts here. But not to worry. I am beginning to see the start of a period where, hopefully, more time will be available for me to devote to this blog. The recent events in Pakistan which resulted in the death of Osama Bin Laden have given me time to reflect on what all of this should mean for Americans. I am immensely proud of what our Navy SEALS accomplished and without any loss of life on our side. While I can't say I am sorry that this man of hate is dead, I am sure that we will not receive more security by his quick and terrible dispatch. We as a nation will have to be vigilant and know that there are many others who stand ready to take his place. For those on the fence this may be a lesson to keep them from making a commitment, but for some Bin Laden's death may serve as a source of inspiration. There are crazy people out there who usually don't make any impact on American society. Unfortunately, Bin Laden did and it took three presidents and five terms of office to finally put him into a watery grave. I can only hope that we never again experience an attack so vicious on our heartland and that we will never let down our guard to permit it. I reflect back on the key words uttered by the SEAL commander to let the President and others in the situation room know that Bin Laden was captured or killed. It was a phrase named in honor of a Native American who had waged war on Washington, but whose fighting style was so legendary that it survived him. What President Obama, Secretary Clinton and others heard was "For God and Country. Geronimo! Geronimo! Geronimo!"

April means festivals

A young festival goer in New Orleans

There is something magical about New Orleans in springtime. The azaleas are in full bloom with dazzling displays of purple, white, pink and red against a sea of green. By mid-March and April the air is typically fed by high pressure cells and the relative humidity plunges downward, making for several very pleasant, temperate days. Occasionally, violent thunderstorms will emerge as low pressure cells from the Gulf of Mexico clash with them, but those days are few in number. With the onset of this mostly pleasant weather comes the opportunities for outdoor fun and exploration. It doesn't take a genius to know that spring is here and the time for festivals abounds as much as those blooming azaleas. The Tennessee Williams/New Orleans Literary Festival at the end of March kept a number of the literati busy discussing what is the centennial of the birth of one of America's most famous playwrights. Several attendees caught the last of the Historic New Orleans Collections display "Drawn to Life,"a half century of Al Hirschfeld's drawings dealing with Tennessee Williams plays. It closed April 3. While that was intended to keep most folks indoors, the Freret Street Festival last Saturday was just the first of several small festivals intended to boost one neighborhood or specific food group or item. Tomorrow the French Quarter Festival begins for the first time on a Thursday; it has become so successful that a fourth day of fun was added this year. Last year an estimated 400,000 locals and tourists swamped the French Quarter, enjoying food, the unique architecture and a plethora of stages with live music acts. Meanwhile, the folks in Pontchatoula will be hosting their annual Strawberry Festival this weekend as well. For those that make the drive to the country there are several musical acts of note and countless ways to enjoy the noble aggregate fruit. The succession of festivals will continue. By the time the month starts to ebb, the granddaddy of them all - Jazz Fest (the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival) - will be in full swing. Ah yes, it's definitely springtime in New Orleans. I can hear, see, smell and taste it all.

This is no April Fool's post

No Time for Fools

There was a time when I was a prankster.
Others' misfortunes made me smile.
But as the years have progressed, I confess, my friends
I haven't felt that way for a while.

As a boy, I loved Larry, Curly and Moe
As they poked each other in the eye
And Laurel and Hardy I confess, they too
Gave me a giddy and not-so-guilty high.

Yet, perhaps it's because I understand now
That no good comes from laughter born of pain
That to love someone means keeping quiet
When they trip and fall down in the rain.

Or when a board is swung full circle
And smashes a bloke on his crown.
I shouldn't break out in a guffaw,
But should emphasize, instead, my frown.

When I see a lady flying forward
After slipping on a banana peel
I must make myself quite contrite
I must not let out a gay squeal.

When I know someone's going to sit
I must resist with all of my heart
Not to place underneath them the cushion
Whose sound gives everyone a start.

Or to offer a stick of gum to a friend
The kind that turns black as they chew it.
I must keep tightly inside my shoes,
Not give into temptation - just screw it.

So I'm guessing you know I am changed
That today when I think about pies
I'm savoring the taste of those tarts
And not smashing them into your eyes.

It feels good to know I am mature
And now follow these simple rules,
But I tell you my friends that it's hardest
On this day that we call April Fools'.

©2011 Alan Smason

2011 Big Easy Theater Awards

Master of Ceremonies Bryan Batt, right, with partner Tom Cianfichi

Last night the New Orleans theater community honored its own at the 2011 Big Easy Theater Awards. It was a grand night as the awards ceremony hosted by Broadway and screen actor Bryan Batt returned to Harrah's Casino after a one-year hiatus. More importantly, it signaled the separation again of the theatre awards from the music awards that honor local musicians. Those ceremonies will be held next month at Harrah's. Top honors for Best Musical went to Le Petit Théåtre du Vieux Carre's "Hairspray," many of whose performers were underage and could not attend the ceremonies held at Harrah's Theater because it is in the adults-only gaming hall. Best Drama honors went to "Frozen," produced by the Crescent Theatre Collective, while Theatre 13 snagged the Best Comedy award with their frenetic paced "The 39 Steps." The Honorary Theater Awards Chairman was Dennis Assaf, the artistic and executive director of the Jefferson Performing Arts Society. John O'Neal, the founder of Free Southern Theater and Junebug Productions was honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award in Theater for his nearly five decades worth of accomplishments in local and national theater Varla Jean Merman (aka Jeff Roberson) received the 2011 Theater Entertainer of the Year Award, accepting in a taped message designed to appear as a live feed from Skype. Su Gonczy, the dedicated lighting director and girl Friday at Le Chat Noir, who helped guide the show's technical direction, was honored with the first "Standing Ovation Award," designed to honor those behind the scenes who contribute so much to the theater scene. Quite rightly, she received two standing ovations before and after her acceptance speech. The glitzy affair included several performances by members of nominated productions including "The Producers," "Grey Gardens," "Hairspray," "Mame" and "The Threepenny Opera." For a complete listing of all winners, click here.