On the radio in Moscow, a host denounced Stalin, saying the late dictator had approved the shooting of kids as young as twelve. He then said, “What kind of bastard would say even one word in his defense?” Well, I’ll tell you who: Yevgeny Dzhugashvili, the dictator’s grandson. Mr. Dzhugashvili is suing the station for libel. He does this sort of thing: As this report tells us, he lost a similar case last October.
You might say it’s kind of touching: a grandson defending his grandfather. But not this grandfather, of all the grandpas there have ever been. Maybe Yevgeny did better with his other grandfather? How could he not have done?
A final thought: You know how millions, for a generation or so, referred to Stalin as “Uncle Joe”? Imagine if, for real, he had been your Grandpa Joe.
Anyway . . .
‐You may well have seen this news out of Tehran: “After months of denials, Iran acknowledged Saturday that at least three people detained in the country’s postelection turmoil were beaten to death by their jailers.” I was immediately struck with this thought: If that’s what the regime will admit to — how about the deeds they carry out and don’t admit to?
‐Here is something unusual, and quite personal: There are certain words that are stigmatized for me, owing to World War II and the Holocaust, and that is not the fault of the words, which of course are perfectly innocent and good. The stigma persists, however. I thought of this when following the news about the Auschwitz sign: Arbeit Macht Frei (“Work Makes Free”). The sign has been stolen, and an intense search is on for it. Occasionally, when reading about music, I’ll see the word arbeiten (“works”). And I almost invariably think of that sign. Do I think of it when seeing the word macht or frei? No, oddly enough — I can’t tell you why.
There are other words: raus, schnell. In how many WWII flicks did you hear these commands to hurry up or move it? (I knew of a German-American mother who would tell her kids, “Raus mit you.”) Then there is Achtung! — “Attention!” I’ve written about this before in Impromptus, and just fished it out, via Google, from 2005:
I don’t think I will ever get used to the word “Achtung” spoken in Germanic countries. Too much growing up on WWII movies and TV programs. That word is forever stigmatized for me, somehow. I remember, several years ago, when I was in Vienna, and a little Thai-Austrian boy was running too close to the street, and his Thai-immigrant mother said, “Achtung!” One of the damnedest things I ever heard.
Anyway, I offer it to you as a curiosity . . .
‐Jennifer Rubin of Contentions often has the same thought as I do, poor woman. And she did again yesterday, when she wrote about Sen. Ben Nelson and the Democrats’ health-care legislation. She said, “When the Chips Are Down, All Democrats Are Liberals.” Hear frickin’ hear, Jen.
‐Concerning this article about Justice Sotomayor, I’d like to say three things. (Yes, there is an echo of the old WFB formulation in that — just an echo.) (WFB used to begin a column, “Concerning [Topic X], a few observations: . . .”) The article says that Sotomayor “would rather not see so many T-shirts, buttons and coffee cups with her picture or her famous quote describing herself as a ‘wise Latina.’” Says the justice, “I can’t tell you the number of people who come up to me and hug and kiss me and touch me, and some of them in tears. I wish there was a way of keeping that without the commercialization of me. Because when I spoke my words I spoke them freely, and I never intended for people to make money off them, because that seems wrong to me.”
Um, right. Anyway, moving on:
The article tells us that Sotomayor “praised fellow justices for welcoming her into what she called the family of court members.” In the words of Sotomayor, “I am now the youngest sister. I answer the door when we’re in conference. That’s a tradition. But they are very careful about ensuring that I understand I am with them as an equal . . .”
Oh, I’m sure they are very careful with the new associate justice. Finally,
“Sotomayor, 55, said she has had to adjust to a ‘hurricane’ of attention and activity since President Barack Obama nominated her. ‘Oh, I miss my anonymity,’ said Sotomayor.”
Is it okay if I say I don’t believe her?
‐We don’t have enough news from and about Dominica in this column — a very lovely island. I was sorry to learn, here, that Dominica’s prime minister is a Chávez ally. The PM went to Ole Miss — that’s right, the University of Mississippi. And get this: His name is Roosevelt — Roosevelt Skerrit. He is 37 years old. And my bet is that there are very, very few men named Roosevelt under 60. (Perhaps he’s a junior, named after his father?)
Anyway . . .
‐More about Chávez and the islands: As this report tells us, the Venezuelan strongman “accused the Netherlands on Thursday of allowing the United States to use Dutch islands off Venezuela’s Caribbean coast to prepare a possible military attack against his country.” Oh, for heaven’s sake. Chávez has nothing to worry about, especially in the time of Obama. Does he not remember the president’s behavior in Honduras? And does he not remember the soul-brother handshake the president laid on him? Or what he called him — “mi amigo”?
By the way — purely incidental intelligence — I went to boarding school with a boy from Bonaire. (One of the islands we’re supposed to be attacking Venezuela from.) Dutch kid named Lars. I wonder whether he is aiding the Yankees as we prepare the assault . . .
‐Okay, you’ll have to believe me on this one. I read the opening of this report: “It’s not the lifestyle of a typical federal judge: Five or six vodka cocktails during lunch; gambling with borrowed money; bankruptcy under a phony name, and cash, trips or home repairs from lawyers and a bail bondsman with business before his court.”
I thought — here you’ll have to believe me — “Sounds like Louisiana.” And this was the next sentence: “Witnesses in the congressional impeachment case against U.S. District Court Judge G. Thomas Porteous Jr. paint a jarring portrait of the former Louisiana state judge who was appointed to the federal bench in 1994 by President Bill Clinton.”
And isn’t that a great name for such a judge? Porteous. Even better, G. Thomas Porteous Jr. It’s like George Washington Cable made him up or something. (GWC was a novelist of New Orleans.)
‐When I was growing up, I used to hear things like, “A mother has supernatural strength when her child is in danger. She could lift a car off her child, if she had to.” I thought of this when reading this article — the mother didn’t do it, but a neighbor did. A man named Nick Harris, in Ottawa, Kan. He lifted a Mercury sedan off a six-year-old girl. “The 5-foot-7, 185-pound Harris said he tried later that day to lift other cars and couldn’t. ‘But somehow, adrenaline, hand of God, whatever you want to call it, I don’t know how I did it.’”
Glad he did.
‐Department of Corrections: In my December 10 column, I spoke of a petition signed by 60 American black leaders. It called for political rights in Cuba. I’d read in an article that Jesse Jackson was among the signers, and said so in my column. I regret to say that this turns out to be untrue.
‐A reader wrote to say that he’d found a T-shirt: here. It pictures Hitler. And it says, “My Che and Mao t-shirts are in the wash.” A nervy idea.
‐In Thursday’s Impromptus, I had a lil’ item on the Taliban, and how it’s hard to join up with them: They’re pretty particular, if you show up without credentials. A reader wrote, “Your impromptu about joining the Taliban reminded me of the classic political statement here in Cook County [Chicagoland, of course]: ‘Don’t send nobody nobody knows.’”
‐Was kind of amused by something: A reader began his letter, “It’s been a while since I last wrote to you.” And he said that reminded him “of the story of the young British social climber — was it Noël Coward? — who, at a party, saw a duke he had once met briefly. He went up to the peer and said, ‘It’s been three years since we last met.’ The duke answered, ‘Yes, a rather pleasant interval.’”
No aspersions on my letter-writer, at all!
‐Would you like some local news — news from New York? I’ll give you some. The escalators at Macy’s are famous — old, wooden, historic. Famous. Kind of cool. Well, yesterday — one of the busiest shopping days of the year — one of those escalators caught fire. Hundreds had to be evacuated. Bummer.
Item 2: Lots of snow here. If you’re out and about, you’re “walkin’ in a winter wonderland.” And the kids were sledding their hineys off on Sunday morning, and throughout the day. Sledding in Central Park, sledding in Riverside Park. They were sledding while the sledding was good. I’m not sure you’ve ever seen such happy kids — or dogs. I think the dogs thought the snow was a special gift just for them.
Sometimes I give you social news from concerts — not music criticism, but social news. Okay, Carnegie Hall, Sunday afternoon, orchestra concert. It’s always nice to see non-classical musicians in the audience. I saw Paul McCartney once. (I realize he has written some classical music — but come on . . .) And yesterday, at intermission, a friend of mine introduced me to John Kander. Who wrote Chicago, among other shows. Wouldn’t you like to have composed “All That Jazz”? Me too.
‐Did you catch Ben Stein talking about “Merry Christmas” and the curse of political correctness? Catch it here. A brilliant commentary. I’ll take Ben Stein, Mark Steyn — any of them. Even Gertrude Stein. Edith Stein, definitely. A beer stein from Munich? If beautifully ornate, absolutely.
‐The English say “Happy Christmas,” of course, rather than “Merry Christmas.” You have not been wished a merry Christmas until Paul Johnson has told you, in a booming, heartfelt voice, “Happy Christmas!” And I got a note from a dear lady in Calcutta the other day, wishing me the same: “Happy Christmas.” A very happifying phrase, don’t you think?
A reader sent me a letter with which I agree entirely. He said he regretted the loss of “Happy Holidays.” What did he mean? He meant that “Happy Holidays” now has a PC connotation. Some years ago, “Merry Christmas” became semi-verboten — sort of risky, flagrant. In its place was “Happy Holidays.” But we had always enjoyed “Happy Holidays” as a “friendly catch-all,” as my reader put it: encompassing Christmas, New Year’s, etc. Today, when you say “Happy Holidays,” you may be thought to be skirting “Merry Christmas” — you know, toeing the line. My reader wants to say “Happy Holidays,” as he always did. But he doesn’t want to be thought anti-“Merry Christmas.”
Anyway . . .
Merry Christmas, Happy Christmas, Happy Holidays, Feliz Navidad, Merry Everything, and bless you forever. See you!
#JAYBOOK#