With that one sound, everything changed. The bond I felt was instantaneous. As had happened before with Alexander and with Nolan, that very first sound put all kinds of puzzle pieces into place: the fact of his being alive; the fact of his being mine; the fact of his being a part of me and my life; the fact of my love for him. I know it all can sound so mushy, but it wasn't, entirely. On the one hand, it was simply "these are the facts": Andrew was here. But, yes, on the other hand, the emotions were here, too.

One of the medical staff asked, "Does he look like your other boys?" I wasn't sure how to answer. The best I could come up with at the time was, "He looks like... him. He looks like Andrew."

But after a little while -- after my brain could process what was going on -- I realized that, in fact, he bears an uncanny resemblance to the way his brothers looked on they day they were born. I mean, besides being all purple and squishy. Their body types are similar, and their faces are *remarkably* similar.

Take a scroll through the pictures of Alex when he was three and younger, and then scroll through the photos of Nolan, and you'll notice how remarkably similar they look(ed). Look at the baby photos and compare them to Andrew's. Yeah, I guess they do look alike.

There are some notable differences: Andrew was born with a lot more hair on his head than Nolan (and, perhaps a wee bit more than Alex, as well), and his feet are not as big as Alex's. Andrew's birth weight is almost exactly halfway between Alex's and Nolan's, but there's also a sense that this guy is likely to give Nolan a run for his money in the size department when all is said and done.

He's a big kid, but not tubby. He's well proportioned, and his apgars were excellent. This kid is as healthy as newborns come.

So, while phoning everyone to tell them the news, everything could be pretty much summed up by the lines, "He's healthy, and Paulette's doing well, and the event was as about as by-the-numbers as they come." But I wanted to say so much more than that. It seems like the fact that Andrew was as healthy as he was and that Paulette came through as well as she did demands more, and says more. It certainly fills up my heart more than that sentiment implies. But, alas, it only takes up one sentence when converted into words.

Speaking of words... let's talk about names.

"Andrew" was the leading contender to be Baby 2.0's name until near the very end, when we switched to "Nolan" for various reasons. This time around, we kinda threw out the rule book. The only two rules that really stayed with us were: 1) the name be relatively easy to spell, and 2) the name not be particularly career limiting. While I must admit that Barak Obama is proving that names may not be as career limiting as I'd once suspected, I still think it unlikely that we will ever elect a President "Moon-Unit" or "Lemonjello".

That said, "Andrew" instantly became our de facto choice for first name, but the middle name remained something of a challenge. With Alex and Nolan, we chose middle names that commemorated Americans we particularly admire. Several others we admire (such as Abraham Lincoln) have names that don't quite scan well between "Andrew" and "Rousselle", or sound a bit more pretentious than we would prefer. The trick is to pick a name that evokes someone admirable and thereby augments Andrew's name, but without hijacking his name.

In the end, we selected "James" because we like the name, it scans well as part of Andrew's full name, and it serves as a tip of the hat to James Madison, principal author of the Constitution of the United States -- one of the most amazing documents ever written -- and the Bill of Rights, which is far too overlooked by today's political parties. He was a champion of checks and balances in our government, which may well be the saving grace of our nation.

But, enough about James Madison. Here's to Andrew James Rousselle... an American original!

(Incidentally, this picture shows Andrew in the arms of his grandmother, while being surrounded by his older brothers.)

Mother and child are doing well and will be coming home from the hospital in a few days.

Pictures will be posted here in a day or two. Or three. Definitely by Friday.

Thank you all for your support, kindness, and well wishes.

The fact that I don't drink is somewhat unexpected, given my Irish heritage. Here's how Irish my heritage is: my grandparent whose surname at birth was McMahon died of liver failure, resulting partly from her penchant for beer. No kidding.

When my cousins and sister and I were kids, the biggest honor we could imagine during those summer weekends at our grandparents' cottage was to be allowed to carry the beer pitcher from the tap to where the adults were sitting in the yard.

[For long-time readers of my blog, I'll point out that these grandparents are not the ones who were Methodist ministers. Here's how NOT-Irish my other grandparents were: when administering communion, they used grape juice instead of wine. No kidding. ]

This is what it means to grow up as part of an Irish family: the tap I mentioned above jutted out from the side of a refrigerator that resided on the front porch of the cottage, with a keg inside. The fridge contained nothing else. I'm not making this up. The aforementioned cottage was in Canada, where the national bird is the Molson Golden. Okay, I made up the bit about the national bird, but really, what else has Canada contributed to American culture but hockey, beer, William Shatner, and beer?

The extended family that populated my summer visits to Canada were consummate story-tellers and avid card players, and beer was ever present in the background, no doubt helping to facilitate both. Given that I soaked up all the story telling and card playing, I find it an interesting quirk that I never had any interest whatsoever in appreciating so-called adult beverages.

[I will also acknowledge that another aspect of my Irish heritage involved being exposed to Irish cuisine, which consists of boiling "food" until it has no flavor and no nutritional value. Salt to taste. "Food" consists of some combination of potatoes, cabbage, and meat. I have also sidestepped that aspect of my Irish heritage.]

Later, in my grad school days, I made it a point to learn what wines go best with the meals I would prepare for my paramour at the time. She came from a family that had some means, and I occasionally felt like my blue-collar background colored (unfavorably) their opinion of me. On occasions when I was not feeling particularly charitable about an upcoming visit with her family, I'd contemplate asking them what meal they would be preparing so that I would know what kind of beer to bring.

But for all that I was steeped in the couture of wine and the culture of beer -- ha! "Steeped!" There's another drink I don't drink: tea -- I've simply never acquired the taste.

A few years ago, I tried explaining to someone that I never could get into the taste, and she pointed out, "Allan, people don't start drinking for the taste." [This someone has, in the ensuing years, become quite the wine snob, so she might or might not give the same response in her older, wiser frame of mind.] While I know that this is not necessarily true, it does bring up the valid point that some people don't drink for the flavor, but for the effects.

I have long suspected that my lack of interest in drinking might be related to my innate desire to maintain self-control. But I have added a few data points in recent years that make me wonder about another possibility.

As I mentioned a few years ago when it happened, I required oral surgery that involved reconstructing my gum line -- a gingiva graft. During one of the procedures, I was offered nitrous oxide to augment the anesthetic, and I decided to try it. As soon as they started, I had to wave them off to tell them to stop.

"This feels terrible. I'm all light-headed, and I feel like I might throw up."

"We told you it would make you feel a little like you've been drinking." For a second, I was afraid they wouldn't turn it off; the person controlling the gas seemed genuinely surprised that anyone would not want to feel that way. This was a truly frightening moment for me. Then she eased up on the gas, and the terrible feeling evaporated with it.

As I may or may not have mentioned in my posts about my oral surgeries, I was prescribed a small amount of Vicodin/hydrocodone to use as a pain killer. This drug did absolutely nothing for me. Nothing. I have long wondered why something so useless could be such a hot commodity. My painkiller of choice remained Advil, even though it presumably has more serious side-effects (stomach bleeding, anyone?).

Which brings us to a few days ago. I've been recovering from an ear infection these past few days, and saw my doctor on Wednesday to have him check on my progress and to discuss pain management. My approach as been: when it hurts, take lots and lots of Advil. Alternate with Tylenol. Repeat as necessary.

Talking to your doctor can sometimes be a good thing. He pointed out that I was taking a toxic amount of Tylenol (notorious for potential liver damage), and a prescription-level's worth of Advil. He recommended a short course of Vicodin to help manage the pain, "Which should go away in a few days anyway," and would do less damage to my body in the meantime.

So I filled the prescription. I noticed immediately something different: unlike the other times I'd been given hydrocodone (the generic equivalent), these pills were large enough for a horse. Insofar as this medicine had never had an effect on me before, I took one right away (this was during a break at work) with lunch, unconcerned that I'd be driving a few hours later.

Horse tranquilizers.

An hour or three later, I noticed that I was sleeeepy. Then I made the connection: bigger pill might mean an actual effect. Then I noticed: my ear still hurt! When I'd had my oral surgery, the doctor who prescribed the Vicodin said that I'd probably still feel pain, but I just wouldn't care. I thought about that. Did I care that I was still in pain?

$%*!, yes, I cared! Ouch!

So, there I was, sleepy but still in pain. *And* I had some driving to do. And, come to think of it... I was just as uncomfortable as I'd been when I'd briefly tried that nitrous oxide.

Looks like I picked the wrong week to give up caffeine.

Twenty ounces of Dr Pepper (have you ever noticed that there's no period in the "Dr" part of Dr Pepper?) and four Advil later, and the effects of the hydrocodone were again rendered moot. I had been worried it would take longer for the hydrocodone to wear off (unlike the nitrous oxide, where the effects disappeared immediately), but I guess my body just didn't have much use for it.

So, what have I learned from all this? Well, for starters, I won't be taking Vicodin / hydrocodone ever again. It just plain doesn't work for me, and makes me feel anxious and sleepy, to boot.

I've learned (or, perhaps, reaffirmed) that it's very, very difficult to give up Dr Pepper.

...and I'm wondering if maybe, just maybe, one of the reasons I've never developed any interest in alcohol has something to do with my body already sensing that it simply has no use for depressants. I realize that narcotics and alcohol are chemically different, so it's possible that I'm over-generalizing with this guess. Then again, nitrous oxide is a depressant, and it is neither an opiate nor an alcohol.

Whether my aversion to alcohol and other depressants is psychological, physical, or both, I do know this: it has nothing to do with virtue, and it has nothing to do with fear. The concept of temptation holds no meaning when one is not even interested.

True to my Irish roots, I may die of liver failure. However, it would be the results of my accidental overdose of Tylenol, and not because of beer.

NBC is covering the Run for the Roses. This is not the first year they've covered the event; they should know what they are doing, right?

So far, after fifty minutes, they have yet to talk about any of the $#&! horses. They have yet to talk to any trainers. They've spent about thirty seconds on a fluff piece about jockeys.

They've interviewed Hugh Hefner and asked about his hotel accommodations. They've talked to Terrell Owens about how things are going with the Dallas Cowboys, and right now they're talking to some guy from the New York Giants. NBC has spent more time talking about football than about the Kentucky Derby.

What the intercourse is up with that?

Wait... wait... Bob Costas will be on in ten minutes. Maybe they'll talk about the freakin' horses before the race actually starts. One can only hope.

Taking a page from ABC News' playbook on how to cover the issues, I guess.

Wow, what a fascinating topic. It's amazing how much there is to learn, and how we know what we know, and how the development of the field has affected our understanding of biology, cosmology, and so on.

We picked up the course on DVD (some courses are also available in audio-only formats), figuring that the visual nature of the lectures might be of interest to our budding young scientist, Alexander. By way of planning for an upcoming family outing to Mt. St. Helen's, we skipped ahead to a lecture regarding the eruption of this volcano in 1980.

The volcano and its activity since its most recent eruption are fascinating, but the lecturer also went into the tectonic activity that makes this region ripe for a catastrophic earthquake. I've known for years now that when Mt. Rainier blows, we'll likely have a couple of months warning, but the eruption could produce lava flows (floes?) as far north as Seattle. In fact, we live in an area that was partially hit by Rainier two eruptions ago.

[For those who don't know: Mt. St. Helen's is south of Rainier, putting it closer to Portland, OR, but still rather nearby.]

What I didn't know was that our local region was wiped out by a 9.0 magnitude earthquake just over three hundred years ago. Because of the way the Juan de Fuca fault works here, we are already entering the "danger zone" for the next catastrophic quake. That said, it's more likely that the next big one will hit in 100 to 200 years (these big'uns tend to hit four-hundred to five-hundred years apart), but we're still entering dangerous geological times.

The instructor of the course gave a compelling argument that Seattle and Portland are likely to be destroyed within the next couple of hundred years.

This isn't necessarily as scary as it sounds. History contains several examples of cities destroyed by a catastrophic event, only to be rebuilt. Such examples include San Francisco after it's big earthquake (and subsequent fire) of 1906 and the devastation of Tokyo and Yokohama following the 1923 Great Kanto earthquake.

Then again, the above mentioned earthquakes measured a mere 8.0 on the Richter scale, and they *did* kill hundreds of thousands of people. I don't know if I'd necessarily prefer to be hanging around when a 9.0 hits. While Seattle and the surrounding areas will certainly be rebuilt following a major volcanic eruption or earthquake, I might be inclined to miss the main event that leads up to a new and improved city.

For all that, though, when it comes to being the most dangerous city in America, Seattle certainly stakes a strong claim, geologically speaking.

Los Angeles, eat your heart out.

As I may have mentioned recently, we moved our office from one end of town to the other. Circumstances conspired to bring me back to our old neighborhood a couple of days ago, and I went into my favorite sushi joint for some lunch.

The woman behind the counter remembered me. I'd been a semi-regular since they opened, and I would frequently bring in Nolan, who, because of quirks in our schedules, would often be visiting me during lunch time while Paulette attended to issues at work. According to the lady who always takes my order (a large California roll, fwiw), the "kitchen staff" simply loves Nolan, and they would often throw in some extra (small) California roll for him, as well. (I suspect that the kitchen staff in question is actually the owner of the joint, but I've never confirmed.)

Sure enough, on this recent trip, even though Nolan wasn't with me, they remembered him and after my meal, they sent me away with a takeaway order for him, as well, no charge.

This kind of affection for either of my kids truly warms the cockles of my heart. [I just looked up "cockle", which turns out to be either a kind of clam or a weedy plant. I didn't know my heart had clams or weeds, but there's always some truth to proverbs, no?]

Nolan is at that age right now where he freely shows me signs of affection, as well, and I enjoy them every chance I get. When I come home, he runs to the door, announcing "Daddy's here!" and gives me a welcome hug. Often, in the middle of the night, he calls out for one reason or another, and after I attend to the issue at hand (blankets need to be fixed, or he wants water, whatever), he snuggles himself back to sleep with an "I love you" for me on the way. I simply melt. (Then again, if you're an insomniac like me, and are further having your sleep interrupted by kids calling out in the middle of the night, you might be emotionally susceptible, too.)

His speech is improving by leaps and bound, and he has had to be moved up to the next size in clothes and sneakers, which combines to make a formidable impression of a kid on the grow. He has a delightfully serious manner of speaking, with an innocent smile and open good humor.

His so-called "terrible twos" haven't been all that much of a problem, and he appears to have already left them behind. He's a bit more reserved than his older brother, and definitely more of a climber. Paulette thinks he's likely to be more athletic than Alex (who is pretty athletic as it is), and I agree. That's one thing I'm particularly enjoying about our kids; they both generally have a pleasant disposition, but they nonetheless have different personalities.

His eyes have remained blue thus far (even though that isn't obvious in the photo I'm attaching to this entry), and he's as blond as I ever was at that age. He's looking forward to becoming a "big brother," and he's made a friend or two in the neighborhood independently of Alex, which is also good to see.

I have no experience with middle siblings, insofar as I've never been one nor had any, but it's important to me to make sure that Nolan continues to get attention and encouragement as an individual as well as part of the clan. As it is, it's exciting to see him come into his own.

Have you seen or might you see Simon Lovell's weekly Saturday evening magic performance, Strange and Unusual Hobbies? As a student of magic, I've enjoyed his lecture notes, but I've never had the chance to see him in person. He seems like quite the entertainer.

I'd love to hear a review from any of my friends or passers-by to this site. It may be another year or two before business takes me back to NYC, but I can live vicariously through y'all in the meantime.

Thanks!

A few friends came over while I prepared a batch of jambalaya, which I made spicier than usual (but still not spicy enough). Several of our guests have kids Alex & Nolan's ages, so the kids all played upstairs while the grown-ups enjoyed grown-up conversation downstairs. It was an enjoyable, low-key affair. Good food, good friends, kids safely (for the most part) entertaining themselves. It had snowed the day before (very unusual for this part of the country at this time of year), which leant to the "lazy Sunday" quality of the day.

All-in-all, not a bad way to mark the occasion.

Someone asked me if I'd be picking up a fast car or a motorcycle soon. There were other references to middle age thrown around. Friends of mine who have known me long enough will note that I've been in a mid-life crisis since approximately seventh grade, so I've gotten most of the living-dangerously urges out of my system, I think.

Our house saw another rite-of-passage by Monday morning. Alexander woke up having lost his first baby tooth. By the end of the day, Alex had lost a second tooth; both had been loose for a quite a while. In the morning, the tooth fairy is probably going to have to pay a little visit. What's the going rate for a tooth these days? Is it still a quarter?

My little boy is growing up. And I've aged gracelessly into a fat old man. I guess that means my parents are older than dirt. Bwahahaha.

(Hi, Mom.)

Now that I think about it, Jack Benny accomplished a great deal by the time he was 39. I guess I'd better get cracking.

That said, our current Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice, was interviewed this week regarding her thoughts on Senator Obama's recent speech about race in America. As a follow-up question, she was asked today "what Americans had learned about race since the civil rights movement." (I'm quoting from the Associated Press article written by Sue Pleming.) Her response is astoundingly true, far beyond the scope of the question posed:

"You have to work hard every day to make the extraordinary, moving and inspirational words of our founding documents a reality for all Americans."
--Condoleezza Rice

Of all the things that have been said so far during this campaign season, that one sentiment (uttered by a non-contestant, no less) rings the truest of all.

One of my new short stories has already been bounced in the best possible way (and I will likely develop it into a novel); another is likely to be sold (although one doesn't count one's chickens until they've come home to roost) -- I was asked for a minor revision, which I've done, so now I just have to wait and see if it passes muster -- and I just completed a third story which I feel pretty good about and I've submitted it to its intended market.

As is always the case with selling short fiction, it is likely to be weeks before I know anything about the disposition of the two that are still in play, but I feel good just getting stuff out there. Oh, and the piece that has already been rejected for its intended market is going to go back out to other markets shortly, even though I still plan to write its novel companion.

In the meantime, some light humor that I collaborated on with a friend of mine back in our *high school* days is about to be included in an anthology that will be published this coming April 1st. It's not my best stuff -- for that matter, it's not the best work that I produced in collaboration with this particular writing partner -- nor is it the material I would have chosen for the "Best Of" that it's going to appear in, but it's a book with a print run of 5,000 or greater, so it's still a publication credit.

And as a recent writing workshop reminded me, we are often not the best judges of our own work.

I'm glad to have finally gotten that third story finished this morning. I'm pretty sure that means my output for this year has already surpassed my fiction writing for all of 2007. Now let's see if there are some folks out there who would like (to pay) to read it.

For example, Amanda, when you kindly sent me that "What's up?" e-card out of the blue; you got me thinking of you.

And Kevin and Brian and Greg and Andrea and Allen and others: when you post comments to my blog or drop me an e-mail, you get me thinking of you. I have some of the coolest friends around. Even if I'm terrible about responding. [sigh]

This is funny. A friend of mine from wayyy back (Hi, Jeff) posted a comment to an essay I'd listed here regarding something I'd said that reminded him of something Scott Adams had posted on his own blog. That was at least a year ago, if not longer. Now I'm reading a Scott Adams book of things he posted to his blog, and it's got me thinking of you.

My mom needed some tech support for her website recently, and so she phoned me. And e-mailed me. I finally woke up at around noon, found the messages, and then helped her out. (Woke up at noon? Yes. See what time I'm posting this to my website? I'm staying up way too late, and getting up late is working out okay with regard to our child care / work schedule.) So, yeah, mom. When I do tech support over the phone, I'm thinking of you.

The kids have been sleeping in the big bed in the guest room upstairs lately. There's a painting in the guest room of trees on rolling hills. When I put the kids to bed, and I see that painting, I'm thinking of yew.

I get e-mails all the time from (alleged) Russian women who "saw my profile" on the internet. That reminds me... I haven't had shashlik in a while. Shashlik was my favorite lunch during my summer in the Moscow. Shashlik is made of marinated mutton. Great. Now I'm thinking of ewe.

When I think of bad puns (which, admittedly, is all the time), I occasionally remember how a certain someone used to admonish me that "puns are the lowest form of humor." Oh, the bitter irony of how my sense of humor sometimes makes me think of you.

...

Memory triggers are on my mind. I just recently completed a short story that takes place in the world where my next novel is set. A world where the main character will spend the entire novel exploring the relationship between our memories and our sense of who we are. Hokey as it sounds, dear reader, as I prepare to embark upon this new novel, I'm thinking of you.

Is it newsworthy if an academic institution resists hiring or retaining a biologist who wants to teach that evolution doesn't exist? If so, perhaps there's a documentary to be made on these other scintillating topics:

• the conspiracy of economists against people who doubt the theory of supply and demand
• the crusade of physicists against those who deny the theory of gravity
• Big Medicine's unrelenting smear campaign against deniers of the germ theory of disease

I almost included in that list the conspiracy of Saturday Night Live writers against anything that might be funny, but that would have violated the comedic "Rule of Three."

Persecution complexes tend to manifest themselves in the weak and the cruel. Hitler, and the Nazis in general, had a persecution complex when it came to the Jews. The Clintons coined the term "vast right-wing conspiracy" long before we started meeting on a regular basis. Richard Nixon, for that matter, allowed his own persecution complex to destroy his presidency and his legacy.

The great paradox of the persecution complex is that it betrays a weakness in character, but not in actual power. This is where I find the notion of "Big Science" persecuting the Christians to be particularly unseemly. Christianity holds more sway politically, culturally, economically, and socially in the very fabric of American life than any other force. For decades (well, centuries, actually), it has insisted on regulating what and how we teach our citizenry, from the birds and the bees to the moon and the stars and everything in between.

Now here comes a Defender of the Faith, in the form of a self-styled intellectual, to declare that when scientists would prefer that science be taught in the science classrooms, Christianity is under attack. Kind of like the way Germany was under attack when France wanted France to be run by, well, the French.

Is Christianity so weak in character that it needs this kind of defender?

[Then again, are liberals so weak that they need Michael Moore as a defender? Hmmm.]

One of these days, James and I are going to have to work together on another project.

Alexander (all of five and a half years old) and I have been playing Crazy Eights in the evenings, and he asked me what it means when I say, "Touche!" after he plays something that I can't match. I explained the concepts of announcing a good hit or acknowledging a good rejoinder.

So, imagine my surprise when we were playing cards earlier this evening, and Alex played a queen and said, "Queen Shay!" And then, when he played a six, and said, "Six Shay!"

Dude cracks me up.

My weight has been bouncing a little between 30 lbs and 25 lbs down from when I initially decided to kick soda in April of last year. I haven't been soda-free all of that time, but I've definitely been soda-reduced.

Recently, a doctor told me I was best advised to cut out caffeine entirely, so I've been soda-free again for a few days. My weight has not dropped any since my last Coca Cola. Nor, for that matter, has my tendency toward insomnia abated. (I'm typing this at 4:30am on what I still consider to be Tuesday -- even though it is actually now Wednesday. I'll schedule it to post on Thursday, just to be goofy.)

But I sure do miss scratching that soda-craving itch.

***

I have been maintaining for some time now that this presidential election is the Democrats' to lose, and they are doing everything they can to do just that. This isn't about policy or principles or character -- these races rarely ever are, no matter how much we might like to think otherwise. There are several reasons that the Republicans face a disadvantage this election cycle:

First and foremost, the outgoing incumbent remains very unpopular, so his party will take a little bit of a hit for that.

Second, when the economy slows down, the incumbent's party takes a hit for that, as well.

Third, when the Dems took over Congress in 2006, they were unable to do anything with their success. Voters who wanted to see "change" haven't seen it yet, so they may be more inclined to seek that change in the White House, which again hits the incumbent party.

Yet as circumstances would have it, the Democrats are doing the kinds of things that tend toward weakening their own cause. A bitter and divisive primary season is one obvious example. The cynicism of the candidates' campaigns is another: Sen. Clinton gets choked up just before Super Tuesday because, hey, it worked before in New Hampshire! (That's just one example.) I'm not sure what bothers me more, the obvious cynicism behind such ploys, or the fact that they seem to work (at least, in the short run). Both of the major candidates for the D's are doing this, and both of them are neck and neck in the delegate count.

The Democrats also have failed to learn from past mistakes. Sen. Ted Kennedy helped to split the party in 1980 by running against Carter in the primary, and that definitely hurt his party's cause that year in the general election. He likewise turned against the nominal front-runner this time, and a former strong supporter of his, when he chose to endorse Sen. Obama over Sen. Clinton last week. The former first lady still took Massachusetts in their primary, but did Kennedy's endorsement help to buoy Obama's challenge and further draw out the race? I'm inclined to think so.

History has shown us that the more divided the party as it goes deep into the nomination cycle, the harder it is to unite against their opponents in the general election. Think of what Kennedy's bid did to the Democrats in 1980, or what Reagan's did to Ford's campaign in 1976.

The fact that the Democrats will take longer to pick a decisive front runner than the Republicans is not a deal-breaker for this election. It is *still* theirs (the Democrats) to lose. The Republicans remain divided, themselves. The neo-cons and the religious right of the Republican party are still not sure that they trust Sen. McCain. Here, the Democrats have an advantage: either Democratic candidate is sure to be backed by the Progressive tail that wags the donkey, while the Republican candidate may not get the full support of the neo-conservative tail that wags the elephant.

Nonetheless, if the Republicans do end up choosing a moderate (and nothing would push McCain more firmly into the moderate camp than having the neo-cons abandon him), how well is the neo-liberal platform of the Progressives going to play in the general election? With Clinton and Obama trying to out-socialist each other with promises of entitlements (such as Clinton's promise of a $5,000 grant for every child born) and nationalizing medicine (at which Hillary failed during Bill Clinton's first year in office), they need to be careful not to promise bread and circuses to their base now that could alienate them to the larger public in November.

***

As I alluded above and in previous posts, I'm intensely interested in seeing if the neo-cons and the religious right are truly inclined to abandon their party-of-choice if their party-of-choice nominates someone with whom they are uneasy. Sen. McCain does seem to be headed for the nomination.

If the neo-cons decide to abandon him, and if he wins the general election anyway, he won't owe them any favors. It seems to me that the neo-cons turn their backs on the Republican party at their own peril.

***

Memo to Gov. Romney: Stop whining about "dirty tricks." These exact same dirty tricks were played by Bush's supporters on McCain in 2000 (for example, "push polls" in South Carolina that insinuated that McCain's Vietnamese daughter was actually his love child born out of wedlock, rather than his adopted child, as is actually the case), and they will be used again by supporters of the Democratic nominee in the general election.

For that matter, how confident are you that none of your supporters have used any dirty tricks against your own opponents?

I do not endorse dirty trickery. But whining about dirty tricks won't help your cause. Whining that your opponent tricked you in a debate is also not a prudent strategy. If you can't handle a little sneakiness during a debate with McCain, how are Republicans going to trust you to hold your own in a debate with Clinton or Obama?

C'mon, dude. Get a new debate coach and move on.

***

It seems lately that now, as much as ever, the campaign is more about the campaign than about anything else. Issues? Character? Bah. According to various polls, people are voting on the basis of how the campaigns are being conducted. In South Carolina, for example, many people said that Bill Clinton's campaigning on behalf of Hillary influenced their vote -- negatively, as a general rule. Solution? Ask Bill to tone it down, and voila! Problem goes away.

No change in message... but then again, the news isn't covering the message. They are covering whether Hillary teared up, or how McCain's campaign overcame setbacks from six months ago, or whether it was wise for a candidate to bank his entire strategy on winning Florida. Floridians didn't reject Mayor Giuliani's message. They rejected his campaign strategy.

To paraphrase a previously successful campaign, "It's the campaign strategy, stupid."

***

Why are Gov. Romney and Gov. Huckabee still in the race, even though they are improbable to win the Republican nomination? Here's a guess: it could be that Romney wants to set himself up for being a viable candidate in 2012 or 2016, or perhaps he hopes Huckabee will drop out and then he'll be able to leverage his support from the neo-cons to still have a shot at winning in 2008. As for Huckabee... by playing spoiler to Romney, he might not only be setting himself up as a potentially viable presidential candidate in the future, but may be trying to win a spot on the ticket as nominee for VP with McCain.

And if Huckabee does end up on a McCain ticket, what does that do to McCain's street cred with the neo-cons and religious right? Or, for that matter, with the moderates of both parties? A McCain-Huckabee ticket has the potential to unite the party better than any other pairing, but it also has the potential to alienate *everybody*. Hmmm.

***

I still think Sen. Clinton is the odds-on favorite to win the Dem's nomination. Then again, I still expected the Patriots to win the Super Bowl, even with only seconds left on the clock and the Pats down by three. So, what do I know?

***

My last thought for the day (and if you've read through all this so far... my proverbial hat is off to you):

It's not enough to vote. If you believe in your candidate, you need to donate money to their campaign. If the stakes are high enough that it matters to you who wins, your donation will make more of a difference than just your vote alone.

Make your checks out to "Friends of Allan Rousselle."

I was recently asked for my thoughts about Presidential candidate Mitt Romney. My response was:

Mitt Romney was not governor when I lived there, but he did run for Senate (against Ted Kennedy) while I lived in Massachusetts. I was somewhat active in the Republican party leadership at the time, and he phoned me once to ask for my endorsement leading up to the highly contested Republican primary (which he won).

Here's what I remember in talking with him: very little. He asked for my endorsement, I asked what made him a better candidate than the other republicans, and he gave me the standard pat answers that made absolutely no impression whatsoever. If I ended up endorsing him for the primaries, as I seem to recall, it was because, well, he was the only one who asked.

But once he won the primary and went after Kennedy, then I got to see him in action. There were several televised debates between the two, and I watched. Romney was the first challenger in a very long time who had a shot of beating Kennedy, which made it an exciting race.

The debates were a bit unsettling, however. Romney's message was, ultimately, this: I'll do everything that Kennedy would do, the only difference is, I'm not a Kennedy.

Keep in mind that Kennedy's politics still play very well in Massachusetts, even though they voted several Republican governors in a row following Bill Weld's taking the seat away from Democrat Michael Dukakis (remember him?). Romney essentially said, hey, I can champion those Massachusetts-y politics just as well as Kennedy can, but at least I'm not a bloated drunken embarrassment. Nationalized medicine? Sure, why not! (But no one will die in my car, wink, wink.) Etc., etc.

Kennedy was suffering from an image problem even worse that year than usual; he was involved in a rape trial (the alleged rape having taken place in his beach house in Florida, I think, and allegedly being perpetrated by his nephew) and did not look so good; and his nose was glowing even redder than usual in his television appearances for much of that year. But, as he always does for his campaigns, he cleaned up quite well during the debates.

Kennedy's message that year was: well, if there's no difference between Romney and me in terms of politics, you have to vote for me because I'm a senior ranking democrat, and we own the Senate! If you re-elect me, I'll continue to chair important committees, etc. Romney won't be able to do that.

Romney lost (obviously), and deservedly so. There were a few funny ironies that came out of this, however. The biggest irony was that this was the year that Newt Gingrich led the charge for Republicans to (successfully) re-take the House and the Senate, so that Kennedy was no longer a senior-ranking majority party Senator. He was a senior-ranking *minority* party Senator, which means no chairmanships, and his entire campaign was based upon a false premise. Likewise, Romney thought that all he had to do to win was not be Kennedy in name. It turns out, he also needed to not be Kennedy in his politics. He learned this lesson.

As you know, Romney was eventually elected Governor of Massachusetts, and from what I've heard, he did an okay job. As it turns out, he's not as liberal as Kennedy -- his message to that effect when he ran against Kennedy didn't play well enough to win that race, so he modified his positions to be less liberal -- but he wasn't necessarily as neo-conservative as George W. Bush, either. In pursuing the national nomination, he has further moved toward the neo-conservative camp, but that was not how things played during his governorship.

My opinion, having seen his career develop, is that he is more interested in holding the office than he is interested in what he can do with it. In this respect, he reminds me of Bill Clinton. He is pragmatic, which is good, and a competent administrator once elected, but he does not appear to me to be a man of strong conviction, so what you see in him may change as the political winds shift. He's more likely to keep his pants zipped; but otherwise, he strikes me as rather Clintonian in his opportunism.

This may not necessarily be a bad thing, but I tend to want my candidates to at least stand for *something*. I think that if he is elected, he'll likely be a competent caretaker of the office, but that's about the best I could hope for from him.

...and THAT is my Mitt Romney story. Let the incendiary comments begin!

The insomnia that's been plaguing me since the beginning of the year has been more severe than usual, and I've given up trying to fight it. As is typical, I find it difficult to do productive work during these bouts, so in the wee hours of the morning I'm now catching up on my backlog of DVDs. These include the first couple of seasons of the new "Battlestar Galactica" television series.

The new incarnation of this series is clearly an effort of my generation to reinterpret the television sci-fi of our parents' generation. And allow me to say that when it comes to sci-fi dramas (like BSG, or Firefly, or Babylon 5, or Heroes) or, for that matter, even mainstream dramas or crime shows (such as Law & Order, or anything by David Kelley or Joss Whedon, and a few seasons of ER), my generation is *so* good when it comes to writing. The dialog, the pacing, the story, the character arcs -- the best of the current and recent crop of shows more than holds its own against the best of the past. The original Star Trek? The Fugitive? The Prisoner? Amateurs. The original Battlestar Galactica was hokey. The new version is a masterpiece.

(At least, so far. The finale of the first season is still fresh on my mind, and it was amazing. I'm almost halfway through season two, and the standards keep improving. Wow.)

Even shoot-em-up serials like "24" have a punch that at the very least matches the best of its predecessors. The tagline for "24" should be: "We've upped our stakes. Up yours."

And yet, as much as my generation has learned about telling a good tale and setting up a good crime scene, we apparently don't know shit about sit-coms. "Frasier" was the last sit-com to have any kind of even half-way decent writing and innovation, but when you get right down to it, the Bill Cosby Show and Cheers (both of which were modeled after previous sit-coms and neither of which were particularly innovative) were the last of the "great" traditional sit-coms.

Why is that? Why can't my generation write a compelling situation comedy? Or, perhaps, why can't my generation produce/finance one that's well written?

My thought for the day: if one wants to make a name as a television writer, re-visit the sit-com. Study up on the classics, like the Dick Van Dyke Show or Bob Newhart or Mary Tyler-Moore, and then open up a can of Generation X Whoop Ass on it. Snark fests are not comedy, and back-talking children are not interesting. Bring on the intelligent, thoughtful, poignant humor like the greats once did, and aim those guns at the twenty-first century.

I'm told that "Arrested Development" started to go down that path (I haven't seen it, yet, but I plan to -- and I worry that it may be a bit on the snarky side), and I'll point out that the writing on Bab5 is what paved the way for the even better writing of Firefly or the new BSG. I'm inclined to think that we're almost there; that my generation is ready for laughter that doesn't come from a can.

What do you think? Am I missing any truly great situation comedy that's being produced today?

The day in question was the day or two after the Iowa caucus, wherein candidate Obama scored slightly higher among the democrat contenders than candidates Edwards and Clinton. (Why are the news outlets reporting this as a decisive victory for Obama? I recall reading in an AP article that he netted 15 electoral delegates, while Hilary Clinton netted 14 delegates, and John Edwards, 13. This is hardly a winner-take-all situation.)

So, this Laslo fellow was playing clips from Barack Obama's "victory" speech and positively gushing about it, and taking phone calls from listeners who were also gushing about it.

Barack Obama is very well spoken, and he clearly has poise, charm, and charisma. But, then again, so does former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee, who captured the most Republican delegates at the Iowa caucuses. Huckabee is an interesting case. The first time I encountered him, he was a guest on The Daily Show (during a two-week period where I was catching the show on iTunes), and I was very impressed with his poise and common sensical style. I liked him instantly. Even at the time, it was clear he was planning to run for office in 2008.

But for me, charm and poise are not enough. I liked Huckabee until I noticed that he was spouting nonsense about science -- essentially claiming that scientists are idiots who believe that humming birds can't fly, even though they obviously do, so why should anyone take them seriously about evolution? Such blatant, obnoxious, willful ignorance being worn as a badge of honor automatically discredits him as a viable candidate for higher office. In our increasingly science and technology-based society, willful ignorance of reality and scorn for evidence-based thinking is a dangerous character flaw.

So if it's not just how you say it, but also what you say that matters, then what are we to make of this Barack Obama speech that radio guy Laslo was so effusive about? Candidate Obama talked about how "they" said "we" couldn't do it, but "you" (the people of Iowa) made it happen, that "you" showed the triumph of unity and coming together over the divisiveness of the past, blah, blah, blah. That Iowans have sent a very clear message "for change".

Now, the cynic in me says: wait a minute. Candidate Obama, dude, you only got 37.6% of the democrat vote in Iowa. Let me repeat that: 37.6% of the vote of one party. His two strongest rivals, Clinton and Edwards, each took in just under thirty percent of the democrat vote. This is unity? This is coming together? This is a mandate for change?

Read the text of Obama's speech here. Go ahead; it's a quick read. It was, after all, written for the masses.

Now, imagine that Hillary Clinton read this speech. Now imagine Edwards delivering this speech. Now Huckabee. McCain. Heck, even Mitt Romney recently (like, yesterday) called himself the "candidate of conservative change." (Doesn't our current President call himself a conservative?) So go ahead, imagine Mitt Romney giving this speech.

Is there a single item in this speech that is specific to Obama? Does he, in fact, say anything at all that wouldn't be, couldn't be, or hasn't already been said by any other candidate for this office in 2008? And, truly, does any of it make sense?

[Note: yes, there is a brief mention of having improved health care in Illinois, and I'm not sure why or how he can make such a claim, but substitute the name of the state with the home state of your candidate of choice. Likewise, he thanks his wife, the "rock" of his family. I suppose Clinton might not necessarily specifically call out her husband. But, that's just a quibble. And yes, there is a specific reference to the Iraq war that would be said by any Democrat, but that Republican candidates would likely leave out.]

You said the time has come to move beyond the bitterness and pettiness and anger that's consumed Washington.
--Barack Obama

Really? How? By giving a slim lead in the vote to someone who has been using negative ad campaigns against his biggest rival?

While I mentioned being cynical about Obama's victory, I'm not being cynical at all about his speech. I have no complaints about his speech. It is as fine a speech-that-doesn't-say-anything as I've read or heard by any number of Presidential candidates. American history textbooks are packed with examples of this kind of rhetoric, of assuming victory when there isn't even a plurality; of lauding motherhood and apple pie even though "they" don't like motherhood and apple pie.

Rather, what concerns me is when people gobble up reheated french fries (or, if you're a neo-con, "freedom fries") and rave about it as if it were el Gaucho filet mignon. Pardon me for saying so, but where's the beef?

When all candidates claim to stand for "change", how are they not interchangeable?

(I am also happy to report that the baby-in-progress is doing fine, and the doctors have no cause for concern. Always a good thing to hear.)

Having this news now gives us plenty of time to come up with a name. If events play out this time the way they did last time, we'll probably need all the time we can get.

We haven't set out our list of rules yet for choosing a name this time, although one criteria from last time is likely to be modified. Rather than saying we're ruling out the top X most common names (as tallied by the Social Security Administration), we'll probably simply want to avoid the most common names given in our particular region. How we'll determine that, I'm not sure yet.

And even though we are aware that "ESPN" has been used as a baby name, we are not likely to be naming our third child "Sienen" or "Foxnews" or "Emesenbeesee". "Spike" and "Oxygen" are also right out. (Truth be told, we still don't have cable or satellite feeds, anyway, and "Peabee S." would just get the kid beat up in school.)

We're also not likely to name Baby 3.0 after contemporary icons of brains and business. The fact that such figures are controversial is one problem, but even worse is that their names are, well, nouny. "Jobs Rousselle" or "Gates Rousselle"? Bleh.

Spelling remains an important consideration: we'll want to make sure that there aren't a lot of common variations on spelling, and that it's easy for most people to spell the name correctly upon first hearing. "Cujo," anyone?

Oh, and the name has to be unequivocally a boy's name. Not Pat, Sam, Terry, or Chris. No boys-names-turned-girls-names, like Taylor or Dakota.

But other than that, the field is wiiide open. Let the Names begin!

While we had a great time catching up with so many, the trip was a bit like trying to see seven countries in five days. We spent a lot of time in the rental car, cramming in as many get togethers as we could, and we were lucky that the boys put up with it all as well as they did. Being on the opposite coast, changes in the weather and time zones also played havoc with my sense of time.

I only checked my e-mail twice during the trip, and wouldn't you know: I received a message from one of my aforementioned old friends who has been on my mind but who was not a part of this particular whirlwind tour. (We weren't hitting her particular state/commonwealth.)

She is one of my dearest friends who knew me from grade school, and she wrote with news that certainly demanded I get back in touch with her. Because our schedule was so packed, I didn't get a chance to phone until all the travelling was finally done.

What somehow escaped my addled brain was that with the travel being done, I was back in my home time zone. So I phoned at what should have been a normal time to chat locally, but was, well, not such a normal time to chat where she was. Woke her up. Probably woke up the kids and hubby, too. Oops.

I've heard of dialing drunk (something I've never done, since I don't drink), but this was worse. This was a case of dialing stupid.

Gary Larson drew a Far Side cartoon years ago in which a child was trying to enter the Midvale School for the Gifted by pushing on a door marked "Pull". I'm that kid. But what's worse than catching yourself in a brain fart is realizing that there are witnesses. Unlike a friend or two of mine from the past who screen calls (and, interestingly, never seem to be home when I try to phone them... or e-mail them... or drop by unannounced... or stalk them at work...), this one answered the phone.

"You sound sleepy. Did I wake you?" I asked, thinking it was three hours *earlier* where she was than where I was.

"Well... yeah," she answered, from three hours *later* than I.

For those of you counting at home, that's a six hour mistake.

During our recent trip, it was great seeing so many people who are so close to me in my mind and memories. But nothing really turns back the clock like making a bone-head maneuver like that. 't really takes me back.

* The boys: Alex and Nolan continue to amaze and astound me with how fast they are growing, how quickly they are changing, and how much they are learning. Both are in a bit of a boundary-testing phase at the moment, which is unfortunate for their beleaguered parents, and Nolan simply can't fall asleep in any kind of reasonable fashion. That said, they remain generally happy and intellectually engaged, and it's amazing how they are developing very different personalities from each other, even though they both seem to have very similar temperaments and skills.

Both have excellent language skills, for example, but have been developing them in different ways. Alex developed a speaking cadence and mannerisms before filling in with words (he would "babble in paragraphs" while his vocabulary was still catching up), while Nolan is soft-spoken but assembles complex sentences with words chosen both carefully and correctly. Nolan clearly understands more than he lets on, whereas Alex is a pro at shooting from the hip.

They remain, in every way, amazing to behold.

* Casa Rousselle: not much going on with the house these days, but car woes are interfering with scheduling on the home front. My VW wagon is over eleven years old at this point, and it's showing its age. We may have to take it out back and shoot it, given how miserable it's been. We have frequently been reduced to having only one car, and it's increasingly difficult for me to be able to work from home on those days when I'd prefer to do so. [sigh]

* Work: in addition to the database work I've been doing as a gun-for-hire, I began the process of buying out my former business partner in a small business a couple of years ago. The business is finally starting to find traction, and so we have just recently hired our first new full-time employee. While things are slowing down as we bring our hiree up to speed, the long-term gain should be huge. Who knows... I may even be able to take a vacation sometime within this lifetime.

* Writing: I have written only one new short story this year so far (although I have a second one worked out in my head, and will probably commit that to paper before too long), but it appears that my third "pro" publication is going to hit the bookstores in the spring of 2008. The irony is, that particular work is being culled from my time at Cornell in a "Best of" anthology, and as luck would have it, the editor selected items that I'd co-written with a friend *during my high school years*. Funny that my third pro sale should come roughly twenty-two years after the pieces in question were written.

* Journey of a thousand pounds: I'm currently down about 25 pounds since I began skipping the sodas on April 1st of this year. I recently fell off the wagon (again), but I'm generally pleased with the three-steps-forward, one-step-back progress that I've been sustaining.

* My life in politics: Having served as president of my home owners association(s) on-and-off for the last seven years or so, I'd stepped aside at the beginning of this year in what I figured would be my final turn as board chair -- I'd decided that there was a lot to be gained by simply being the "board member without portfolio." Nothing doing. The fellow who took my place stepped down soon thereafter, and the then VP didn't want the job, and the next thing you know, everyone's asking me to step back in. So, I picked up the gavel once more. I'll comment more in the coming weeks about the many adventures I've had on the board, and why local politics is simply crazy, crazy, crazy.

In fact, I expect to comment on all of these facets of my life in more detail in the coming weeks. Like Alex, I feel the need to babble, and I know the words will come.

Sixteen and a half points.

I realize that the Patriots are probably the best team on the field at this early point in the season, but... sixteen and a half points? And sure, Buffalo didn't do so well last week, but... sixteen and a half points?

Wow. The oddsmakers haven't anticipated this much of a public beating since the Democrats nominated Walter Mondale. Ouch.

Public Statements and Debates: There's an interesting site at http://www.myelectionchoices.com/ that lists a number of statements made by presidential candidates, with the statements grouped by category. The idea is that you check the boxes next to the comments you agree with, and then when you're done, the site tallies up which candidates' stated positions are most in line with your own.

It's a fascinating idea, but once you go through the process, you realize just how flawed the premise is. The notion that we are most moved by what a candidate claims to represent turns out to be pretty much bunk.

Problem 1: all statements are weighed equally when the site tallies hits, but in reality, some issues are more important to me than others. The same is true for you, dear reader.

Problem 2: there's no consideration of statements you disagree with. Sure, Candidate Z may have made the most statements I agree with, but Candidate Z also made statements in favor of eating babies, and that's a show stopper for me. All it takes is one show stopper to cancel out all the good will of previous sympathy.

Problem 3: This one is the real killer -- they may say it, and they may even mean it, but that doesn't mean that they're going to do it. George W. Bush, in the run-up to the 2000 election, stated quite firmly that he was opposed to foreign adventures for the sake of "regime change". Bill Clinton, in 1992, promised to "end welfare as we know it." Bush the elder, before being elected in 1988, had promised "no new taxes." And so on. You may agree with what they say, but even if they mean it when they say it, presidential candidates don't always follow through.

Record of past performance: In ads for mutual funds and stocks, we are reminded that "past performance does not necessarily indicate future performance." The same goes for presidential candidates. Reagan was a fiscal bulldog as governor of California, overseeing tight, balanced, lean budgets. As President, he oversaw budget deficits that made Carter's look like, well, just peanuts. (Recall that, until the Reagan administration, Carter was universally lambasted in the press for running record deficits.) Clinton, as governor of Arkansas, was notorious as a philanderer, but as President... okay, okay. Sometimes past performance *can* be an indicator of future performance.

There's also the problem that there are few (if any) positions that one can hold that would give any real insight into what a person would likely do upon becoming President. How much foreign policy experience is a governor likely to have? How "executive" is a legislator likely to be? How sensitive to the subtleties of politics and compromise is a war hero likely to be? For all that, former governors and war heroes do have a tendency to make better Presidents than former Congressmen and Senators, but even if you take this as the trend, how do you select among multiple candidates who are all governors or generals?

Character: How well can we really know the character of a presidential candidate, and how relevant is their character to their candidacy? On the surface, it would seem like it *should* matter. And yet... Reagan, a divorcee, was arguably a more effective President than Carter, a born-again Christian -- assuming, for the moment, that divorcees have a defect in character that born-again Christians do not, and I concede that to be a faulty premise. (For that matter, if Reagan was slightly above-average or even average in intelligence, Carter was arguably the most intelligent man to hold the position in the 20th Century... and yet, again, we are faced with the interesting fact of who was more effective in the office.)

A more stark contrast can be seen in comparing Carter, a paragon of integrity, with Clinton, his antithesis. And yet, who was the more effective President? By how much? I contend that superior integrity did not a superior Presidency make. FDR might be an even better example of a man whose personal integrity left a great deal to be desired, and yet was one of the most effective Presidents of the 20th Century.

That said, there are some character issues that do seem to make a bit of difference. Confidence matters, as does decisiveness. Personal conviction and charisma certainly can contribute to a President's effectiveness. Although, as our current administration reveals, conviction is not an adequate substitute for occasional thinking.

Quick: name a candidate this year in the top three or four of your party of choice who is wishy-washy and uncharismatic.

So, what criteria works better than these?

Skip the debates. Forget about trying to figure out who is "best". Instead, I remind you of a quote I've posted here once before. I am increasingly convinced that Robert A. Heinlein had it right:

"If you are able to vote, then do so. There may be no candidates or issues you want to vote for... but there will certainly be someone or something to vote against. In case of doubt, vote against. By this rule you will rarely go wrong." -- Robert A. Heinlein

Wouldn't primary/caucus/election season be so much more interesting if we periodically voted a candidate *out* of the race, instead of always having to choose only one to nudge forward in the race?

(That said, I've tightened my belt a notch and haven't had to let it back out again in the week since this all happened. Even this nasty cloud had a silver lining.)

Does the fact that I was a victim of a GI virus qualify me as an expert on GI infections? Seriously. Does my experience now make me an expert on maladies of the gastrointestinal tract? The mere fact that I know it's a GI issue instead of the flu (did you know that nausea is not a symptom of the flu?) certainly must count for something, right? The fact that I listen to a science/medicine podcast only adds to my knowledge of such matters. Combine that with my first hand experience, and I'm an expert... right?

No?

You wouldn't consult with me regarding matters of GI infections? You wouldn't trust me to advise public policy on the treatment of GI viruses?

Of course you wouldn't. Being a victim doesn't qualify me as an expert. Having seen the virus attack both of my sons before it hit me also doesn't make me an expert. I don't even qualify as an expert on how my body reacts to that kind of a virus; I'm only an expert on how *I think* my body *reacted*.

A close relative of mine got into a nasty car accident a few years ago and was killed. Does that make me an expert on automobile safety? The fact that I'm now well read on statistics regarding auto fatalities... am I now competent to advise public policy on highway design or automobile design or DUI laws? Well, perhaps more so than your average bear, but certainly less so than a qualified expert -- for example, someone with a degree and a career in mechanical engineering or physics or civil engineering or, for that matter, law or public policy.

While I was out of town recently, I was annoyed to see this headline in my complimentary nation-wide newspaper: Families skeptical of Va. Tech panel. The lead paragraph read:

Relatives of Virginia Tech University shooting victims challenged the credibility of a state panel investigating the massacre on Monday, demanding that a family representative be appointed to join the eight-member committee.

The author of the USA Today article, Kevin Johnson, notes that a spokesman for Virginia Governor Tim Kaine said that each of the members of the panel were appointed for their special expertise... and he put the words "special expertise" in quotes. As if there's something dubious about their qualifications, or something suspect about being an expert.

The purpose of the panel, as the governor's spokesman is quoted, is to (and I'm quoting the article again here) "help determine what went wrong and how to prevent a future tragedy."

So, then: how does being the family member of a shooting victim qualify one to be an expert in the prevention of similar tragedies? How are they competent to help determine what went wrong? What qualifications do the family members have that will help them to make sure the committee doesn't reach conclusions "that may not be accurate?"

Please don't get me wrong. My heart goes out to those who lost loved ones in this tragedy. To whatever extent our society can reasonably move to prevent future incidents like this, however, I'm going to have to put more faith in the counsel of individuals with "special expertise" than in individuals whose primary qualification is that they've been harmed.

By all means, let the families of victims consult on the best way to memorialize their loved ones. But do not allow sympathy for the victim's families to cloud better judgment when it comes to improving public safety.