Pride of the Commonwealth

Fitzy’s Wicked Pissah

Baseball fans are the yardstick of American cities.   Do you love the dirty water?

 

Journalist, Assassin

On Friday I woke up at 3 AM to bring five teenagers out of Gotham – America’s financial, economic, and cultural capitol - on a visit to America’s political capitol. Over the course of the next three days I had the pleasure of attending a number of engaging speeches, most notably by: Mike Johanns, our current Secretary of Agriculture, who proved once and for all that you can give people the experience of what it feels like to drive across Iowa without ever getting into a car; David Mark, the part-time Senior Editor of The Politico and full time gay dude; snake in the grass Ken Mehlman; General William Nash (who was awesome), and possibly most interesting, Dr. Nabil Abuznaid, the Deputy Chief of Mission for the PLO, who humorously told a diverse crowd of 800 High School students (gathered in the Hart Building at Capitol Hill), “You New York Jew can come to Palestine and take my home because your mother Jew. What German do to Jew was wrong. What Jew do to me is wrong. I hate no Jew – I hate only oppressor. “

I’m not making this up…

Now, I could name drop for probably another 1000 words at least, and Joseph Hartmanovitz would love it, but let’s get on with the story – none of these speakers held a candle to Friday night’s keynote speaker, Joe Trippi. I say this because, while the other speakers had someplace else to go and at least attempted to keep their comments brief, Joe Trippi had nothing. For those of you not in the know, Joe Trippi is probably the losingest Presidential campaign manager in Dem history, managing the Presidential campaigns of Edward Kennedy, Walter Mondale, Gary Hart, Richard Gephardt and Howard Dean. He is also the author of The Revolution will not be Televised: Democracy, the Internet, and the Overthrow of Everything.

Trippi takes the podium and immediately the crowd of 800 begins to murmur, and not in anticipation. I am impressed, this crowd of teenagers actually read the newspaper. They know who Joe Trippi is and would rather not listen to him, so they talk to each other.

I look to my left and see my confused five straining to listen – my kids don’t read the papers. I suffer along.