The Corner

U.S.

Knowing the Time, Etc.

From left: Peter Cetera, James Pankow, Lee Loughnane, Terry Kath, Walter Parazaider, Danny Seraphine, and Robert Lamm, of the American rock band Chicago, pose for a group portrait in London, England, August 26, 1970. (TPLP / Getty Images)

Today, my Impromptus column begins with a subject rare for me: birds. But my angle is not really ornithological: It’s political, or social (as usual). Many birds are named after people. One such example is the Audubon’s shearwater. This is the bird in the picture above my column.

Does one speak of “the Audubon’s shearwater,” as I have, or simply “Audubon’s shearwater”? I don’t know — but bird types will. (I’m talking about people who know about birds, not the birds themselves.)

Whatever the case, the American Ornithological Society has decided that birds will no longer be named after people. They are changing the names of all the birds that are currently named after people. This is an effort to be more “inclusive.” You know how it goes . . .

Some mail:

Jay,

Is antisemitism worse than it was 50 years ago, or do we just hear more about it, owing to increased media activity?

I grew up in the “melting pot” of southwestern Pennsylvania, and I don’t recall Jews’ getting it any worse than any other ethnic, religious, or racial group. In high school, I would gladly have started a fistfight to defend Ellen Weber’s religion or honor or good looks — anything to make her notice me. In college, I would have been proud to protect Wendy Rosenbloom on her way to class, rather than follow her like a lovesick puppy. (In the 1970s, a guy could be shy without being considered a “stalker.”)

Quick answer: Antisemitism is like a virus, which lurks and periodically explodes, wreaking destruction.

A different reader:

In some things, reasonable men can disagree. But then there are other things. I just cannot view someone who supports Hamas as any different from someone who would support SS death squads. I don’t pull the Nazi card often and do so here only because I’m seeing the same evil with different packaging.

This same reader discusses a subject that I have discussed recently, and that readers have discussed through their mail. (See this post, for example.) That subject is personal security, or personal responsibility, especially as it relates to guns.

My perspective on firearms and self-defense is an extension of taking personal responsibility to help my fellow man.

Here’s my philosophy in a nutshell: I believe I am morally called to render help and aid as I am able. And I can’t help you if I can’t even help myself. . . .

I know CPR and basic first aid and keep those basics at home and in the car. I can help those in need and am less of a burden to others if I am in need. . . .

Firearms are part of this. I have always lived in more rural areas, and firearms are essential tools to feed my family and to keep them safe. I have had to use these tools in defense — thankfully, only against animals. I pray that I never have to use them against my fellow man. . . .

I hear the refrain “But you’re not a policeman!” No, I am not. Neither am I a doctor, and I know first aid. Neither am I a firefighter, but I have fire extinguishers. I’m not a mechanic, an electrician, or a plumber, but I have tools and basic knowledge pertaining to all those things. I’m not a lawyer, but I read and understand laws and contracts.

Taking a basic responsibility is just common sense to me. Self-defense is part of this.

A final subject: songs — and politics. A refrain of the “New Right” is that they “know that time it is,” while you, if you are not part of that movement, do not. If you favor the “old” conservatism — the Constitution, the free market, civil society, etc. — you “don’t know what time it is.”

I addressed this subject in a podcast — a music podcast, actually. And I wrote about it here. In 1939, Rodgers & Hart penned a song called “I Didn’t Know What Time It Was.” It is a love song. (A splendid one.) A reader proposes another song — from Chicago. Not the city, but the band, which in 1969 came out with “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?” Catchy as all get-out. Swingin’. Remind yourself here.

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