Brookfield Basics

2009 School Board Elections

Tom Gehl — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 20:50:18 GMT

Just four months from now, in April of 2009, this community will elect two people to the position of School Board member. The Seat currently held by Steve Schwei is to be decided, and after nearly twelve years of service, Steve has announced that he will not seek re-election. His position is an Area Seat, which means anyone who is eighteen years of age and living within the confines of the South-East quadrant of the School DIstrict can seek this office.

The Seat currently held by Meg Wartman is also up for election, and Meg has announced that she will seek re-election. Her position is an At-Large Seat, which means anyone of legal age living anywhere within the boundaries of the District can seek this position.

Anyone interested in running must act quickly. Even though the election is not until April, there is protocol required to be eligible. Papers must be filed and signatures must be gathered to declare and establish candidacy. These requirements are driven by State Statute, and not by any requirements of the School Board or the District. All filings and signatures are due at the District Office by January 6, 2009 in order to be a candidate.

Anyone considering this can contact a current or former Board Member to discuss what is entailed with Board service - see the District's web site at http://www.elmbrookschools.org/display/router.aspx, and click on the Board of Education tab on the left side of the page to get contact information of current members. There are also two meetings next week designed to answer questions for anyone considering seeking office; there will be Adminstrators and current Board Members present to do so. The first is Wednesday, December 10th at 7 PM. The second is Thursday, December 11th at 9 AM. Both meetings are in Conference Room 130 at the Central Administrative Offices at 13780 Hope Street. Questions regarding requirements of filing for candidacy, or the specific boundaries of the Area seat, can be directed to Ms. Pat Felde (Fell-Dee) of the District Office at 262-781-3030 - Extension 1140. Pat is knowledgeable and extremely helpful, and can answer any questions you have.

Lastly, as he nears completion of his fourth term, I want to acknowledge and thank Steve Schwei. His service represents an enormous sacrifice which has seen him devote thousands of hours of work, attend hundreds of meetings, and study countless reports.

I like to think that we live in a community where, regardless of one's views, people can appreciate and respect that.

Once Upon a Time in America - The Foundations of Thanksgiving

Tom Gehl — Thu, 27 Nov 2008 11:00:00 GMT

The Holiday we know as Thanksgiving has two foundations in our nation's history.

The first lies in the autumn of 1621. The people we know as the Pilgrims gathered to give thanks for having survived their first winter in North America, and for the liberties they enjoyed upon coming to this continent.

The second lies in the year 1863, our country in the crucible of the Civil War and mourning the 55,000 casualties of Gettysburg. Just a few months after that battle, President Abraham Lincoln issued a Proclamation which served to establish this day as a National Holiday.

Here is a brief look back on both events. From the Journal of Nathaniel Morton of Plymouth Colony we read:

"Being now passed the vast ocean, and a sea of troubles before them in expectations, they had now no friends to welcome them, no inns to entertain or refresh them, no houses or towns to repair unto to seek help. And for the season it was winter, and they that know of the winters of this country know them to be sharp and violent".

And in November of 1863 Abraham Lincoln penned this closing stanza to his Thanksgiving Proclamation:

"We have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity; we have grown in numbers, wealth and power as no nation has ever grown. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to claim this necessity of reclaiming and preserving grace. It has seemed to me fit and proper that God should be solemnly and gratefully acknowledged, as with one heart and one voice, by the whole of the American people. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, to set apart and observe the last Thursday in November as a day of Thanksgiving".

It was the Pilgrims whose magnificent courage and modest conventions established the traditions that we now know as Thanksgiving. Two hundred and forty two years later, it was Lincoln who institutionalized this Holiday, and wove it into the fabric of our national life and consciousness.

Amongst many other things this Thursday, I will give thanks for the heritage these people left.

I wish you and yours a Happy Thanksgiving.

This posting is a re-print of last year's Thanksgiving comments, and the first part of its title is taken from a Sergio Leone film of the same name.

What Would Napoleon Have Told the Auto Companies?

Tom Gehl — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 17:38:00 GMT

The French Revolution occurred in 1789, but remains one of the most profoundly impactful events of the last one-thousand years. Forged from that crucible of upheaval and social strife, Napoleon was the political child of that event, and more than any one individual, wrote the history of the 19th Century. All of history's immortal commanders have been men of genius, and he was no exception. His audacious strategies, brilliant combinations, and on field leadership make his campaigns the object of study in military academies to this day.

He was witheringly impatient with slow witted or slow acting subordinates, as one of his generals learned. The last official act of that unfortunate commander was to send the great Bonaparte a memo asking, "why have you not sent me the requested reinforcements"? Like the back of his hand Napoleon's reply fired back, "Because I never reinforce failure".

Last week the top executives of the auto companies, disdaining travel with the likes of you and me on the pedestrian nuisances known as commerical flights, flew private jets into Washington to sing a triumvirate chorus of the "bailout blues". Napoleon would have known what to do with the jet-setting executives. He would have dispatched an emmissary to greet them on the tarmac, issue the same acid reply noted above, and sent them back to Detroit.

Given the now established pattern of bailouts this one is certainly difficult to say no to. But say "no" we should because it has no chance of SOLVING anything. It will not STOP the death spiral of the auto companies - it will only PROLONG it. It's not the bad economy that is killing Detroit - the auto makers were spewing red ink for years, even in good times. I predicted the bankruptcy of the Big Three automotive manufacturers fifteen years ago, and first wrote about it on this blog nearly two years ago. I further argued that it is only under the auspices of Chapter Eleven that they have the remotest chance of survival, and the sooner they file the sooner they have a chance to fight their way back to some semblance of health. The chief of General Motors keeps prattling on about how "bankruptcy is not an option", but that's just Beltway rhetoric. The fact is his company is ALREADY bankrupt, and is only operational because it still has a few months of cash left. Filing Chapter Eleven will not mean death for the auto companies. Rather, it would allow them to continue operating (as Delphi has), and give them a chance to change the carcinogenic management habits and labor agreements that were put in place over forty years ago, when the world was an entirely different place. If this bailout goes through it will only be a matter of time before they come back for another one. That's not clairvoyance - it's actuarial reality.

A bailout, no matter how large, will only prolong the death spiral. The economics of today's global environment simply do not allow for paying employees in retirement nearly the same wages and benefits they had when they were working, particularly when the number of those retirees is five times greater than thoses currently employed.

It is sad and it is unfortunate. But it is an inexorable reality that no President and no Congress, Democrat or Republican, can change.

The sooner we realize that the healthier our public policy and private economy will be.

Happy Thanksgiving Senior Citizens

Tom Gehl — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 15:35:00 GMT

Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending the Twentieth Annual Brookfield Central High School Thanksgiving Dinner for Senior Citizens.

The Student Council gets the credit for underwriting the cost and staffing the event. The planning was handled by Shirley Smanski and Su Edington, with assistance from Principal Don LaBonte, and Associate Principals Natalie Collins and Jim Darin. Students staffed the parking lot to assist residents who needed it, and to ensure they were comfortably and swiftly seated. They also waited in attendance on them, bringing them coffee, water, dessert, or anything else they might have desired. It was clear that both youth and seniors enjoyed each other's company.

This day was special to me for several reasons. It was my first attendance of this fine and noble tradition. Secondly, I had the pleasure of escorting my mother, God-mother, and three of their life-long friends to the event. I was able to meet and visit with several delightful people, and end the afternoon by a surprise visit to my daughter's locker at the end of her school day. Lastly, and most importantly, it was just heart-warming to see so many of our local residents turn out and enjoy each other's company, and be waited upon by the students.

Over three hundred area residents attended, and while visiting and eating, enjoyed music provided by The Lancer Jazz Ensemble led by Jason Gillette, and the Choir, led by Phil Olson. Superintendent Matt Gibson played a medley of seasonal and patriotic songs on the piano, and was joined in song by the seniors. He also recogonized a World War Two Veteran who was in attendance.

It is a unique event. It is a uniquely AMERICAN event. If you are a senior citizen and have not attended, I urge you to consider doing so next year.

So often we hear about problems or negative issues in our schools, and I don't suggest that yesterday obviates such concerns. But it should be placed alongside of them in recognition that, even in times like these, there are ALWAYS things to be thankful for. And even amidst all of the bad news out there, we still have young people who find joy in offering events like this, and serving those who paved the way for them. That is something to celebrate. More importantly, it is something to nurture and encourage.

I walked home with a lighter step than I have had in some time.

Thanks to everyone involved, and most of all, to our seniors.

Two of Me

Tom Gehl — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 12:35:00 GMT

It's time for a feel good story - wrapped inside of a warning.

In the final analysis the only thing that really matters on this earth is the people in our lives, be they well known and loved, or be they strangers we might encounter only once. I met such a stranger Friday morning morning by the name of Riley.

I hesitate to write about this because it is not my intent to call attention to what happened. But it was such a defining and revealing moment that I wanted to explore it. Revealing because it showed me what a huge difference twenty minutes can make in someone's life, and it underscored the reality that when we talk about "helping people", we can only do so one person at a time. It was defining because it showed me with stark clarity the capacity that each of us has to choose. We can choose to sew the seeds of peace, or seeds of unctious self-involvement.

I was in Germantown driving on Pilgrim Road, hustling to be on time for a "very important" appointment, when suddenly I was confronted with a different, and far more important one. I noticed a young boy sitting on the sidewalk who was in obvious distress. It was 8:15 in the morning; broad daylight in a "safe and suburban" setting. I was deeply preoccupied with my meeting, knowing it was going to be difficult, and I figured he would be fine. So to my shame, I kept driving for a few hundred feet.

Suddenly I was gripped with the strongest sense of concviction I can recall. The conviction took hold, I parked quickly, and ran over to him. Kneeling down so as to speak eye to eye, I learned he had been riding his foot-powered scooter to school and took a nasty spill on the sidewalk. He was clearly in pain but thankfully he was more frightened than injured, with just a scrape or two to show for his mishap. I assured him he was going to be fine, and after a few pats on the back and further reassurances, we stood up and started chatting. His name is Riley and he is a fourth grader at MacArthur Elementary School. I told him I had a son in the fourth grade, and that created a definite connection as his dark and worried visage began to relax and brighten. I offered him a ride to school which was just a half mile down the road. I hesitated to do so for obvious reasons, but I did not want him getting back on that scooter so quickly after his accident. He accepted, and I took him right to the office to be sure he would be checked out and OK. Lastly, and as a sad reflection of the times, I realized that his parents might be justifiably concerned upon hearing Riley tell them the story of a strange man stopping and giving him a ride to school. So I made sure the Principal had my name and phone number in case they wanted to allay those concerns.

I think the feel good part of the story is obvious. The incident left me with a feeling of bouyancy for the remainder of the day. And I kept thinking of my own fourth grade son, my "Buddy", and praying that if he ever had such an accident someone would be there to help him.

So what's the warning in which the story is wrapped? It lies in those few moments after I first saw Riley; the few seconds where I just kept driving, more concerned with my pathetic little meeting than I was with a nine year old boy in turmoil and pain before my very eyes.

That's the blessing Riley gave me. He revealed with riveting and unflattering clarity, that there are two of me. The one who attempts to do right, and the one who is content to "drive on", and let someone else deal with it.

I gave some time and some attention to Riley. He gave me back a bit of myself.

I am in his debt.

How We Got Here - The Theory of Relativity

Tom Gehl — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 15:51:00 GMT

I am going to take a break from blogging for a bit - don't know how long. Given what is going on in the world my heart is just not in it right now. And just as I am not overly interested in writing, I am certain you are not too concerned with hearing from me at this time.

How the heck did we get here? That question can only be answered with a book or a few sentences. I'd like to write a book some day, but for now, two paragraphs will have to do:

I believe that at the root of all of this political and financial turmoil is a lie that that to our shame, we have believed. Post-modern intellectuals and our universtiy campuses have told us for forty years that things like "truth" and "morality" and "ethics" are relative; that there is no objectively definable and un-changing definition of such things.

And I believe we have looked too often to Washington for every solution to every problem, when in fact the problems either originate or are magnified there. It is time to look to ourselves, our beloved families, our churches, and our communities for solutions. Big Government is broken - and I believe the only fix is term limits for Congress.

As we consider how we are going to navigate this crisis in our own lives, and as we consider who we are going to vote for at all levels of office next month, I ask that we all give some thought to such matters.

I believe it is time to walk what Jeremiah called "the ancient paths" again. It is time to seek the simple truths that don't change and are not relative.

They are there - we just need to remember how to look for them.

Energy - The Environment - And Congress

Tom Gehl — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 17:06:00 GMT

Our energy policy in America today is dysfunctional. And the reason it is dysfunctional is that Congressional (and Presidential) leaders are unwilling to portray realities to the American people such that we can forge a cohesive way forward. They clammer and clang about being "energy independent" and "bringing relief to the pump", as if their empty rhetoric could make it so. I believe both candidates, but in particular John McCain, missed an enormous opportunity by not making this a key component of the campaign.

Reality Number One: While we absoluely need to explore alternative energy sources (especially nuclear), there is no reason to believe that ANY alternative to fossil fuels is going to have a measurable impact for at least fifteen years. So while we pursue alternatives, we also need to pursue every drop of oil and every cubic foot of natural gas we can.

Reality Number Two: We would want to fully exploit our fossil fuel alterantives even if we were farther down the road with alternatives than we are. As fragile as our economy is right now do you want it to be MORE or LESS dependent on the likes of Iranian President Ahmadinejad.

Readers of this column know that I love northern Michgian. Lake Michigan, the Au Sable River, the Leelanau Penninsula, Tahquamenon Falls - all have their claim on me. I have written of her land, shore and water many times, and to the extent my heart can reside in a physical place, it does so there.

I came to love northern Michigan when I lived there for nearly five years. I worked for Amoco Production Company and spent many months as a roustabout working in the "oil patch". And a result of working there is that I learned exploration for and production of oil and natural gas can co-exist comfortably with the environment. I remember walking in the woods with some out of town visitors and telling them we were within one hundred yards of a producing oil well. As they considered the dense forest and beautiful greenery, they simply did not believe me. But a short walk down a trail revealed the truth, for the forests and fields of northern Michigan, topography that Melville would have described as "loveliness unfathomable", are replete with well-heads and pump jacks inexorably pulling energy out of the earth.

While it is certainly true that the drilling phase is messy, sites can are restored to a level of pristine cleanliness that is all but pre-production, with only some trees cleared to make room for the well head equipment. That was the case thirty years ago, and with the technological advancement that has occured since then, the energy companies can look for and produce this bounty with even less impact on the environment. It is simply no longer credible to suggest that the exploration for and production of oil and natural gas is a significant environmental threat. Yet many still cling to this tired and long debunked argument.

So what?

Well - Alaska's ANWR (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge) is currently sitting atop staggering reserves of natural gas and oil. Estimates peg the amounts as fifteen BILLION barrels of oil and nine TRILLION cubic feet of gas. And the estimates of reserves that exist off-shore are far greater than even these numbers.

It is time to unfetter our energy companies and send the unequivocal signal to them that it is time to go and get it. And it is time to realize that such a decision can be taken without trashing our responsibility to the environment.

And the only group of people keeping us from doing exactly that is the United States Congress.

The University of Wisconsin Marching Band

Tom Gehl — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 11:01:00 GMT

I was on the UW campus Saturday afternoon and at the Badger game Saturday evening. It was a beautiful autumn day, and I was again reminded of the myriad reasons that for me, make the pageantry of college football superior to any other sport.

The fans narrowley missed out on a Badger victory. They also missed out on the tremendous and always entertaining performance of the spectacular UW Marching Band. The band, already on probation from an incident two years ago, was suspended from this game for activity occuring on the previous week's trip to Ann Arbor, Michigan. Officials are interviewing band members "one at a time" to investigate "allegations of serious hazing", alcohol consumption, and "inappropriate sexual behavior".

Now here are a few quick thoughts. First, for the University to suspend a band that is almost as much a part of the football program as the team itself, is a very serious step. The timing of the suspension reveals this with even greater emphasis, for this was no afternoon game against South Dakota State. It was a night game against the mighty Ohio State Buckeyes, served up to our sports-frenzied nation on live, prime-time television. For officials to deny the kids this chance, and the invaluable publicity attendant with such a show, indicates that the alleged behavior went well beyond college kids just having some exuberant road-trip fun.

Further, the suspension of the band prior to the results of the investigation being completed, tells us that what has been alleged was not only serious, but dangerous. If the allegations are true, the University was probably exposed to enormous financial liability. And worse, students may have been subjected to risk of emotional or physical harm.

Lastly, it tells us that someone was so alarmed by what they saw that they took it upon themselves to come forward with an anonymous tip to Band Director Mike Leckrone. We will probably never know, but in all likelihood it was a student of small group of students that took this step. If that is the case it was an act of tremendous courage, for doing so put the wildly popular and successful program in serious jeopardy.

As is typical in such matters, we can surmise that most of the kids in the band are great students and musicians, and that the alleged behavior is a case of a minority emperiling the entire group. The protection of that majority is all the more reason to take swift and definitive action, along with protecting the University from potentially staggering litigation.

The competition to be a member of the UW Marching Band is enormous, and those who wear the red and white have earned that spot with hard work and talent. UW officials are correct in conducting a thorough and confidential investigation. They are to be encouraged to take firm and decisive action against any members of the UW Staff or band that may have emperiled its collective good standing and health.

Membership in the elite UW Marching Band is an honor and a privilege.

One that should be revoked if necessary.

In the interests of disclosure, I have no formal or informal relationship with the UW Marching Band, nor do I know any individuals currently associated with it.

Tin Soldiers and Nixon Coming - Voter Fraud in Ohio

Tom Gehl — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 00:38:00 GMT

I have no idea what the average age of the readers of this column is, or how many will recognize this title, taken from the lyrics of Neil Young's great protest song, Ohio.

He wrote it in condemnation of the fatal shootings of four students at Kent State University on May 4, 1970. The disjointed and fractured guitar riff, the devastating salvo of lyrics that form the title of this column, and the hauntingly repeated background vocals of "four dead in Ohio", are imprinted upon the musical DNA of an entire generation.

I thought of this song last night when I saw more sad news from Ohio. Yesterday a Federal Judge there enabled thousands of people to register and then vote on the same day, without even modest checks of identification or residency to stem what will now be a tsunami of illegal votes in next month's Presidential election. It is news that will result in many more than "four dead" voting in Ohio.

Of all the important stories that are routinely ignored by America's hopelessly biased main-stream media, election fraud is the most serious and the most damning. Regardless of where one stands on the political spectrum, we can all recognize the reality of the last ten years. It is the reality of dramatic increases in voter fraud, along with one of our two major political parties that is consistently and adamantly opposed to even the most moderate steps to ensure that pople who ARE voting SHOULD be voting.

It is a reality that will probably decide our next major election.

And it is a tragedy as great as the one Neil Young wrote about.

I Can Eat Fifty Eggs

Tom Gehl — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 10:01:00 GMT

So proclaimed the fictional character Lucas Jackson - better known to us as Cool Hand Luke.

In my mind's eye I see Paul Newman barking out that line, delivered with a visage that was half grin and half smirk. His face was sardonic, sarcastic, challenging, and joyful all at the same time. It was acting in the greatest sense of the word; an indisputable talent that held the power to move us. Those five words and that one look defined the character of Cool Hand Luke.

I was saddened yesterday to learn of the death of Paul Newman; Academy Award winning actor, race-car driver, businessman, entreprenneur, and husband. Working in an industry populated by the world's most desirable women, he could have had any one of them with little more than a nod. Despite this, he lived in lifelong fidelity to the wife of his youth; his marriage to Joann Woodward a marital lighthouse to an industry of foundered vessels. I was further saddened to think it has been forty-one years since the release of Cool Hand Luke. Where did THOSE years go?

Paul Newman was huge. He possessed what the actors and actresses of Hollywood's Golden Era had - presence, charisma, size. Does anyone believe any of today's "A-list" leading men, while perhaps matching Newman's striking looks, could even THINK about pulling off a role like the Cool Hand? Russell Crowe - perhaps. Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio, or George Clooney - please. Newman practiced his craft at a time when Hollywood had left behind its Golden Age and was transitioning to the modern world of American entertainment. "Cool" is something we can't really define, but know it when we see it. Newman had it, and along with Steve McQueen, epitomized Hollywood cool in this era.

He appeared in over seventy films, with Hud, The Verdict, Slap Shot, and Absence of Malice listed as my favorites. But I believe his defining work, a film that has entered into the iconoclastic halls of our popular culture, is Cool Hand Luke.

It was remarkable on many levels. Directed by Stuart Rosenburg, it had an incredible number of actors who used it as a springboard to roles in film or television, like George Kennedy, Dennis Hopper, Wayne Rogers, JD Cannon, Harry Dean Stanton, Joe Don Baker, Ralph Waite, and others. It firmly cemented the prison film as a major genre in Hollywood. Lastly, it was a pivot point for leading-men roles, as it entrenched the concept of the "anti-hero" in American cinema and popular culture.

The title of this piece is taken from what I believe to be the foundational scene of the movie. It comes just past the the film's half-way point, where Luke had become a cult figure in the prison and was locked in mortal combat with the warden over his refusal to "get his mind right", to conform to the "Boss". His fellow prisoners clearly began to look at him as a savior figure, and Luke was pressured to achieve increasingly outrageous acts in order to hold their rapt attention. So while lazily reclined on his cot, he issued this challenge, which immediately became the subject of furious prison wagering. His first lieutenant George Kennedy (Dragline), said, "Luke - no one can eat fifty eggs" - and the bet was on.

The scenes of Newman eating the eggs (in one hour) ranged from hilarious to wrenching. The scene of him at the end of the gluttonous fest, arms outstretched on the table, abdomen distended and feet together, was an unmistakable caricature of crucifixion, and a clear foreshadowing of Luke's ultimate sacrifical death to free the men.

So many scenes and so many lines from that film remain ensconsced in our minds and our daily parlance, and none more so than the infamous, "What we have here is a failure to communicate".

It is a tremendous film, full or heartbreak, humor, and humanity; revealed to us by a great actor at the height of his craft.

Watch it again, or for the first time.

And tip your hat to a Hollywood legend as you do so..

Our Financial Crisis: Why Character Still Matters - And Why Economics is More Important than Finance

Tom Gehl — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 09:19:00 GMT

William Manchester is my favorite historian. An unparalleled researcher and a lover of language; he wrote of the great men and wars of the Twentieth Century, and wrapped them in context and insights so illuminating as to make his work unique amongst all I have read. Such insight came at the price of personal experience - Manchester was a decorated U.S. Marine who was severely injured on Okinawa. In his stunning memoir of World War Two entitled Goodbye Darkness, Manchester wrote of he and his comrades on Okinawa that, "we were living very fast". He meant that they knew they were living in a pivot point of history.

Last week we saw the pivot point in a financial maelstrom of almost mythological proportion, and Secretary of the Treasury Hank Paulson and the world's financial markets have also been living very fast. The debate about whether or not the U.S. Government should have done what it did is now academic. What CAN and NEEDS to be debated are how it should best manage the bailout. In order to do this it is critical to understand the foundational causes of this crisis.

Our two Presidential candidates tried to respond to these very questions, and neither one acquited himself well. Barack Obama did what he does - smoothly and articulately dispense a bunch of high-sounding but empty words, continuing his pattern of spewing rhetorical Cheetos to a nation hooked on political junk food. John McCain looked frustrated and confused as he groped for a position. I longed for one of them to say something like, "this is an incredibly complex and important matter and I am simply not going to use it as a political whipcord until I have had a chance to think it through". How refreshingly courageous this would have been.

Because problems like this are so ENORMOUS we assume the causes and solutions must be of equal size and complexity. We view a dizzying menu of things like "sub-prime packages" and "securitizations" and "unwindings of debt", until the whole matter becomes an opaque bowl of data-laden goo. While all of these things have their place in the discussion, they are simply too large for us to assimilate, and worse, cause us to lose sight of the truly foundational issues. Our eyes move from headline to headline, and our ears absorb panel discussions until we contract intellectual lock-jaw. The lock jaw then turns into capitulation; an almost involuntary "shrugging of our intellectual shoulders". This is not a healthy development and we need to resist it.

Amongst many enablers of this crisis there was one primary primary factor - the years of ridiculously easy money proferred by the Fed, in spite of nearly two decades of unsustainably soaring real estate values. Alan Greenspan now postures that years of record low interest rates were not the cause. I agree, but more so than any one factor it enabled this crisis. And more than any other individual's, it was his hand that held the great National Needle of Morphine as it dripped the narcotic of rate reductions into our fiscal veins. This would not have happened had Paul Volcker been Fed Chairman.

But while easy money ENABLED the crisis, it did not CAUSE it. I believe there are two primary causes of this mess: human greed and something closely linked to it - a failure of CHARACTER on the part of the leaders of America's enormous financial institutions.

We all have it within us to be greedy; it is a propensity of our nature and one that can only be combatted with discipline and care. But for all the prattle about "change" on the campaign trail, I trust we all agree that neither candidate is able to change the condition of the human heart. Greed cannot be eradicated, and will always be an issue in our dealings. It was greed on the part of prospective home buyers that led them to "rent" three-hundred thousand dollar homes because they were not content to "buy" a two-hundred thousand dollar home. It was greed on the part of real estate speculators. And of course, it was greed on the part of banks and brokerage houses, now joined together in an incestuous relationship, who churned out these packages to millions of such people, consciously spurning the time-honored and proven traditions of their industry.

But we need to loook further and deeper. We need to acknowledge that it was a crisis of character on the part of the leaders of these institutions. Men and women who simply knew better but could not bring themselves to stand up in their board rooms and say, "ENOUGH - NO MORE. We will no longer engage in such risky and unsustainable conduct. It may be legal, but it isn't RIGHT". It tells us that managers who DID do this had the courage to say "NO" to the orgiastic joy ride of their industry. It reminds us that a senior manager's FIRST and SACRED responsibility is to act in the best interests of their SHAREHOLDERS - NOT to achieve a particular level of quarterly bonus for their staff.

Please remember this the next time you hear someone say, "I am more interested in a person's policies than I am in their personal character". There are pivotal times in history where character is inseparable from policy, and indeed, far more important.

So where do we go from here?

There is an interesting development ocurring which predictably, is going under reported by our fallow mainstream media. There are actually banks and financial firms that are still on their feet. And some of them are beginning to enter the picture and conduct negotiations to buy some of the failed banks. This tells us two things. First, that such institutions were led by people who decided they would NOT engage in such incendiary practices. And secondly, it tells us that the market can help the Government sort this mess out by purchasing the assets of now defunct organizations at a hugely discounted rate, and begin the process of building up their capital base and balance sheets into a stable condition. The single best thing the U.S. Government can do right now beyond what has already ocurred, is to create an environment where such transactions are transparent, encouraged, and applauded. It is also time to create an agency akin to the Resolution Trust Corporation and put the RIGHT PERSON in charge of it. I don't know who that might be, but amongst many who have the professional competence, I would look for a person of unquestioned and Olympian CHARACTER. I hope and pray that Paul Volcker, or someone of his caliber, is available to serve.

Lastly, I believe this crisis has taught us that economics is more important than finance. Economics is the foundational science of commerce, for it is the study of how human beings make decisions under the context of unlimited wants, finite resources, and the condition of the human character. Finance is the methodology through which economic decisions are enacted. It is finance that says, "Hey - I have figured out how to mass produce uncollateralized loans for people who cannot afford them". It is economics that says, "Well congratulations - but that is a BAD idea". Finally, it is people who understand economics and combine it with personal character who say, "I don't care how much pressure builds up - we are NOT going to do it".

The final and most important lesson of this crisis is to listen to the laws of economics, and to political and financial leaders who understand them.

And who have the courage to respect them.

The Voices We Listen To - My Favorite Journalist

Tom Gehl — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 11:32:39 GMT

I believe that the voices we listen to when receiving our news is becoming as important as the news itself.

Most people I know expect our leaders and our pundits to disagree and to hold different views. They not only expect it; l believe they want it.

What we don't want, but regrettably have come to expect, is the strident tones of apocolyptic rhetoric that seem to have become the norm in the last fifteen years. There is a savagery in our public discourse that is more than concerning - it is alarming.

And this is why Peggy Noonan of The Wall Street Journal has been my favorite columnist for a long time.

Ms. Noonan is extremely bright and erudite, but this does not distinguish her. In a field littered with so many poor writers, she is a very good one. Her penetrating observations combine with a talent for making complex issues and relationships seem clear, and her use of analogy is brilliant. Unlike the glut of talking heads who follow in her wake, she actually has some knowledge of cultural and political history. She is willing to put in the hard work of honest self-reflection and editing of content, an old school journalist who honors the traditions of her profession. And all of these are qualities that DO separate her from most of her peers.

She "made her bones" thirty years ago in a world dominated by men, and is rightfully proud of that accomplishment. But her pride is tempered with, dare I say it, feminine style.

But more than all of this, Peggy Noonan possesses one quality that puts her at the very top of my list.

She is gracious.

Graciousness is a virtue, a pattern of character and behavior that indicates one possesses and is willing to dispense - grace. And it is all but non-existent in the profession of print and television journalism.

Regardless of our walk in life, I think we can all learn from Peggy Noonan.

Reflections on September 11

Tom Gehl — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 12:19:00 GMT

I had dinner last night with a man who was in Manhattan on 9-11. He saw the second plane; he smelled the burning steel and fuel; he wintessed the death and mayhem. Driving home I recalled another dinner I had with my father decades ago, where somehow we got talking about Pearl Harbor. My Dad was an articulate and educated man, but he could not capture for me the reaction that the country experienced upon news of the attack. He tried to convey what it was like as he huddled around the radio with his parents and siblings, listening to Franklin Delano Roosevelt give his famous address to Congress.

We all have our memories of 9-11, and as the number of Americans who have first-hand memories of Pearl Harbor declines, 9-11 will stand as our singular collective memory of the United States of America being attacked by a hostile foreign power.

Winston Churchill once said that "All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope".

As I think of 9-11 and peel back the emotional onion layers of what that day holds for us, I try and think of Churchill's "great things". Images that recall the unimaginable courage of the men and women of the NYFD - people who ran UP the staircases as maelstroms of fire, concrete, steel, and death poured down. An itinerant taxi driver stopping to comfort a Wall Street Executive. A mother clutching her child to her bosom, as the raw scenes of death and mayhem revealed with savage clarity the things that really matter in life.

But I also use the memory of 9-11 to try and put complex and incredibly difficult issues into a sense of focus. In my view there are realities about 9-11 that some don't want to confront. Worse, as evidenced by the sad case of Professor Ward Churchill, there are those who would contort these realities into such a mosh of post-modern psycho-babble as to have us think of OURSELVES as the guilty party, a party who actaully DESERVED this "rough justice". What a sad irony that this small-minded and hate-filled man would share the same name of the great Statesman.

The personal loss and tragedies of this horrific event can only be experienced on an individual level. But on a national level we can look back on 9-11 and use it to remind ourselves of a few things. 9-11 serves as a reminder that there ARE such things as right and wrong. 9-11 reminds us that there is such a thing as EVIL in the world, and that it requires a response from us, both individually and collectively. It reminds us of what Alexander Solzhenitsyn told us - that evil resides not in countries or polticial systems or creeds, but rather that it resides in the human heart on an individual by individual basis. It reminds us that there is a DIFFERENCE between people who board a bus to get across town, and those who get on a bus with C-4 strapped to their bodies.

There are DIFFERENCES in the world. There are DIFFERENCES in belief systems. There ARE such things as good and evil, and choosing one vs. the other is an individual responsibility that MATTERS.

My father's generation would not have felt the need to articulate such things - they viewed them as self-evident.

Why have we lost the courage to say so?

Perhaps recovering some of that courage is the best way to honor the dead of 9-11.

Brookfield's Farmers Market and Fall's Run

Tom Gehl — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 10:28:42 GMT

Tuesday of last week saw high humidity and temperatures approaching the mid 90's. Then on Saturday morning as I walked around the Farmers Market there was a chill in the air. Where else but the upper Midwest would you run air conditioning on Tuesday and wear sweats just a few days later?

Realizing that the Market's season is drawing to a close made me appreciate it all the more. What an array of bounty spread before our eyes, where in the space of a hundred yards you can purchase delectables ranging from steak to a smorgasbord of baked goods, spices and vegetables. It is a feast for the senses - the brilliance of the floral arrangements, the deep green and pale yellow of the peppers, the scent of bakery, and OH MAN - those tomatoes. All too soon we'll be in the aisles of Pick 'N Save skeptically eyeing their limp imposters, and wistfully thinking to ourselves, "You call yourself a TOMATO"??!! And all of this taken in while young performers serenade us with violin and harp. What a tremendous way to spend a lazy half-hour on a Saturday morning.

Autumn is here, and as long as I can remember it has been my favorite season. The cooler temperatures, crisp air, fabulous color, and our agricultural bounty all combine to stamp this magical season's impression upon us. It got me thinking about something I wrote nearly twenty five years ago that I titled Fall's Run. Barb and I were hiking the Leelanau Penninsula in northern Michigan (pictured above), when we stumbled upon one of the most fabulous and confounding sights in all of nature. We sat and gazed in silence as the salmon were "running" up the Leland River. I was mesmerized by the sight then, and am transfixed by its memory now. I wrote a tribute to those noble creatures which I present below. I apologize as the blogging software does not allow for proper spacing.

Fall's Run

As the leaves softly turn to a burnished gold, and the air cools and crackles and snaps in the night;

The earth yields her bounty in richness untold, and the rivers are home to an ancient sight.

A bottomless impulse that has no name, summons them from the boundless deep.

Irrestible object or immovable force - the next generation their harvest to reap.

Shining bands of ribboned steel, explode from the surface and up through the mist.

They know not what drives them, what makes them die; a force as committed as a clenched fist.

Like angry mortars they hurl themselves, into the teeming, foaming spray.

Battered and dazed they do not relent. Rest - regroup - then back to the fray.

A haven up-river beckons them, where their journey began in a quiet pool.

To find it, to reach it, and pass on their life. Then die in that water, sweet-calm and cool.

Why must it be that very same spot, where the light of day first reached their eyes?

How do they know it, what guides their way, through miles of shore traveled long ago?

Some few make it back to that very same spot, to pass on their spirit which now ebbs away.

Exhausted and battered, destroyed and withdrawn. Yet never defeated in the gentle cool sway.

Their victory won they complete the chain, their bodies surrender the seed of new life.

With me or without me their years spin away, their redmeption won through this noble strife.

The almost mythological trek of the salmon remains for me one of the seminal experiences in all of nature. It's autumn in Wisconsin folks - let's get OUT THERE.

Gustav - Katrina - And Miss Molly

Tom Gehl — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:19:58 GMT

My heart is in Pine, Louisiana right now as we watch Gustav menace the Gulf Coast.

Three years ago next week in the immediate aftermath of Katrina, I traveled to the Gulf Coast with a group from our Church. When devastation of such enormity occurs our senses don't fully absorb it. The breadth of the suffering is so great that we too often think in terms of "regions" that are "stricken", when in fact disasters occur to PEOPLE; individual by individual and family by family. My heart goes out to the people of the Coast, and I think of the members of the Pine First Baptist Church where we stayed. Most of all I think of Miss Molly.

We spent one day in Biloxi - right on the Gulf, and I will never forget the scenes of ruin and devastation, the scope of which is beyond the power of words to convey. Refrigerators in treetops, large commercial fishing vessels laying keel up in the middle of what were once busy streets. Bare cement foundations where houses once rested, as if some enormous scythe had descended from the sky and severed the homes from their foundations.

But most of our time was spent in the rural setting of Pine, where we set up base camp at a local church. We spent eight days traveling form home to home repairing roofs, hauling garbage, hooking up fresh water, providing food and medicine, and cutting endless amounts of trees and limbs. But more than all that we just listened to people tell us of the things they had seen and experienced. Words fail you at such moments. Not because you can’t think of anything to say, but because we came to understand that they didn’t want us to say much. They just wanted us to listen, and to put a hand on their shoulder as we comforted them. It is on that trip that I came to understand what a Pastor of ours calls "the ministry of presence".

The rural deep South is a different place. Even in late September the heat was oppressive. The outdoors was little more than a giant convection oven; an invisible woolen glove pressed down insistently upon our shoulders. The people of this region are forged in the twin crucibles of the heat and the soil. Most were less educated, but carried the quiet strength and wisdom of the country. They were tough - and I mean tough with a capital “T”. But despite their unspeakable loss, their generosity of spirit matched their grit. So many images and people are planted in my memory from that week, but none more so than Miss Molly.

She was tiny – just over five feet; and I am sure she didn't hit triple digits on her scale. She was about sixty and as quiet as a shadow. I met her one morning as we were finishing breakfast and preparing to head out for the day’s work. She was standing there, hesitating; she did not want to intrude. So - I approached her and introduced myself. I can still hear her reply - “My name is Molly - but folks here call me Miss Molly”.

We talked for a bit, and then she screwed up her courage to ask for help – a request as foreign to her nature as we were to that land. “I’ve heard about your group” she said, “and was wondering if y’all could come by and help me. You see – I’m all alone”. As we spoke I learned that she had children, but they were long grown and gone. I later learned from her Pastor that after years of abuse from an alcoholic husband, she had summoned the courage to divorce him and live alone on her spread. So we scheduled a day later in the week to visit Miss Molly, and spent that day cleaning, hauling, and repairing. As we packed up our equipment to leave she could barely speak. She only murmured, “God Bless you” as she embraced us one by one. In my memory's eye I see her standing in her driveway and waving good-bye, tears streaming down her cheeks as my own eyes moistened in the back of the pick-up.

She came back to the church a few days later and sought me out, insisting that she be allowed to tangibly express her gratitude to the group. We refused, but she continued quietly insisting that she be of some service to us. So we agreed, and I and asked her if she could do some laundry for us. “Why heavens sake sure” she said, and the next day we had fresh clothes to pack up for the long drive home.

First Miss Molly melted our hearts - then she broke them. Months after the trip we learned from her Pastor that her estranged husband came back, and in a psychotic, alcohol fueled rage, put three bullets in her head. She was found in a crumpled little ball, her dried blood caked and hardened on the wooden floor of her kitchen.

Why is it that some people have the hardship of ten lifetimes crammed into one? Why is it that this demure and kindly jewel was mowed down as if she was no more than a steer on the slaughterhouse floor?

I don’t know the answer to that any more than you do. But some things I do know………

I know that Miss Molly was the REAL DEAL. I know that despite her size she was a giant; a lioness whose courage roared louder than mine ever will. Despite her suffering and despite her living amidst the greatest devastation I have ever witnessed, she was concerned about doing my laundry. My LAUNDRY for heaven's sake.

Why? How could this have possibly mattered to her at such a time?

I doubt Miss Molly would have given much thought to that question. It’s just who she was, and if I had asked her I suspect she would have said something like, “You got to help people when they need it. It’s just what folks around here do”.

I don’t have a picture of Miss Molly; somehow in the rush of things I just forgot. That was a big mistake. I would give a lot to have that picture. I would give a lot to show it to our kids as I told them about her.

But I would give more to do her laundry.

Bone of their Bone and Flesh of Their Flesh - An Update

Tom Gehl — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 23:36:11 GMT

Over the course of the last twenty years the two governing parties in Washington DC have morphed into a gelatinous political goo. This goo has subsequently congealed into a dough so homogenous as to render the once proud and distinctive parties all but indistinguishable from one another. Both are so addicted to the drug of incumbency, and both are so devoted to the god of big government that it is difficult to discern any measurable differences. I am convinced the only cure for this is term limits, but that is the subject of another column.

But one of those few remaining criteria is the matter of judicial appointments, and with millions of kids in America returning to school amidst the heat of a Presidential race, we see a case that reveals the importance of this issue.

In April I wrote about a ruling of the California Supreme Court in which the Justices opined that "parents do not have a Constitutional right to home school their children" (see link at bottom). First I need to correct an error in that article, as it was a California District Court of Appeals that made that ruling - NOT the State Supreme Court. I had read an article which reported it as a Supreme Court decision, and I wanted to acknowledge and apologize for the subsequent error in my posting.

In that initial ruling the Appellate Court decided that parents or guardians would be allowed to home school only if they first received a certification from the State, thereby making their choice and conscience hostage to the approval of the California's edcuational beaurocracy. Parents across America choose the option of home schooling for a variety of reasons ranging from academic performance, to spiritual beliefs, to protecting the physical safety of their kids. The notion of these parents being able to exercise their rights only after being properly "certified" is as invasive as it is alarming. Thankfully the same Court reversed its decision, and two weeks ago ruled that home-schooling parents will NOT need to be certified by the State. The Court even went so far as to say that "such matters are best decided by the legislature...."

A high Court exercising judicial restraint and recognizing the proper distinctions between itself and elected legislatures is a rare and welcome event.

This particular issue will come back. But for now the causes of educational freedom and individual liberty won a significant victory in California.

It is a victory that has national implications.

http://blogs.brookfieldnow.com/brookfieldbasics/archive/2008/04/03/bone-of-their-bone-and-flesh-of-their-flesh.aspx

Paradise Found - Lake Michigan is More than Just a Source of Water

Tom Gehl — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 22:54:00 GMT

We can talk about water and public policy all we want. But no policy will be effective until we as citizens - individual by individual and family by family, begin to develop and exercise a RESPECT for this vital and limited resource.

In 1667 John Milton wrote Paradise Lost, an epic poem of theology and linguistic beauty. If Milton had been with us last week he might have been moved to author the sequel to his great work.

The eastern shoreline of Lake Michigan, from Grand Haven to the Mackinac Bridge, is some of the most spectacular country in America, and last week we were again blessed with a family vacation there. The Indians of the upper Midwest named the Lake "Missi-Ken", meaning in their lyrical language - large lake. And so they gave name to the Great Lake and to the State.

We spent our days there same way we have for the last several trips - sailing, biking, boogie-boarding, sand-dune climbing, kayaking, hiking, and camp-firing on the shore. Our morning entertainment consisted of bike rides to the Lake and to the artesian well to fill our containers for the day. Nocturnal entertainment consisted of huddling on the beach to watch the sunset over Lake Michigan. We marvelled as the sun plunged down the horizon like some great, incandescent eye, illuminating the sky with colors and shapes so lush as to shame the canvas of Raphael.

The Shawnee Chief Tecumseh was a great American, and sadly, too obscure a figure in our history. He grew up in the forests and on the river banks of what is now southern Ohio, and often tried to give verse to the feelings he had for the land he so loved. Despite his eloquence it always eluded him.

Like Tecumseh - all I can do is recall images and sensations: a bobcat darting across the trail of a deep woods hike, stopping briefly to freeze us with his penetrating gaze. Watching your children lay hands on the tiller of a sailboat, and just as you taught them, reading the sails as the mylar lufts and gropes for the wind, all while remembering the terrified shrieks of their first sail. Seeing them gaze at the towering Sleeping Bear Dunes as we cruise past, jaws agape and souls humbled by the sight. Watching the wind suddenly quicken as it gathers over the surface, and the mad scramble to reduce sail before it strikes the spinnaker and main like an invisible fist, heeling the boat to the gunnels. The soft-green and beige of the dune grasses as they gently yield to the caress of the breeze. The thigh-burning, lung-busting effort of ascending the mighty dunes, and the rollicking, limb-flailing descent, often hurtling twenty feet with a single leap. The taste of the artesian well water after a long run in the sun - sweeter than any ice-cold Gatorade. I could go on..............

Try as I might I cannot capture the essence of what this land and water hold for me. How does one encapsulate the memories of a lifetime - memories seared like a brand onto the skin of my consciousness?

Always - always I will hear Missi-Ken calling to me. The primordial sound of the surf in its ageless assault upon the shore, and the matching refrain of the water's retreat. The lonely, plaintive cry of the gulls as they lilt and bob above the surface, their calls mixing with the pound of the surf in a soul-piercing texture of sound.

Perhaps our son captured her essence best while perched atop the dunes one golden evening. Staring out at her vastness, I watched as its majesty laid hold of him and slowly quieted his spirit. And I could only nod my agreement as he murmured, "it's not a Lake, Dad - it's an ocean".

I love Lake Michigan. And my love for her has helped teach me to respect and conserve water.

Think about it.

Please.

Lucius Commodus for President

Tom Gehl — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 16:44:59 GMT

On June 19th I wrote about the false notion of "obscence profits" in a blog entitled The Latest Rant About Oil. This posting can be considered part two of that article.

In the hedonistically debauched days of Imperial Rome, Emperors like Lucius Aurelius Commodus (likeness above) staged wildly exotic and violent spectacles in the Coliseum in order to placate and divert their citizenry. Before the carnage began, horse drawn carts drove along the earthen floor of the stadium, as minions of the Empire dispensed free bread to the screaming hordes. Such scenes of mayhem and largess were transcendantly captured in Ridley Scott's film, Gladiator; one of the few movies of the last twenty years that I would preface with the descriptive "great".

Last week's announcement from the Presidential Campaign trail of a plan to extort money from Exxon and her corporate sisters, the proceeds of which would be distributed to America's families at the rate of one-thousand dollars per (this despite the fact that many of those families are already the owners of said proceeds), harkens us back to the days of the world's first Senate - that of ancient Rome. It represents such tawdry pandering that it does not even warrant the label policy. And it clearly illustrates that most pandemic of Washington afflictions - the ignorance of basic economics.

Now in fairness, "Robinhood-ism" as public policy is hardly a new phenomenon, and ignorance of economics has plagued both sides of Washington's political aisle for decades. And certainly many politicains have used oil companies as easy press conference fodder. But this latest gambit is so brazen that it needs to be challenged for what it is.

By all means let's debate the issues of Exxon's profits and our energy predicament. But if this is the result, perhaps our candidates would be more honest to begin construction of a coliseum in our nation's capitol.

And right next door to it - an enormous bakery.

Much Ado about Aldi's

Tom Gehl — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 10:42:00 GMT

The decision has been made and Aldi's is coming.

There was no reason to deny Aldi's occupancy of that building, and the Town Board's unanimious vote to appove it showed good sense and judgment. Competition is efficacious for consumers, and our community will now have an additional option for grocery shopping. This can only be a good thing, particularly at a time of rampant inflation in food prices.

But what I want to explore is the reaction this matter generated. When this issue was being considered by the Town Board, Brookfield Now offered an on-line forum where people were able to enter their opinions and views on whether or not the Town should allow Aldi's to open a store at Bluemound Plaza. The comments were not only prolific, many were intense, almost incendiary. There is no question that it exposed a tap-root of emotion and sentiment, most of which was rabidly anti-Brookfield.

Perception is reality, so I say - fair enough.

But it got me wondering about the people that live in this community. To hear us described on the pages of NOW, we are little more than affluent elitists, langorously idling away our time in hammocks, all while wondering if our Great Danes need grooming, or agonizing over the quandry of whether to use the Jag or the Mercedes for our drive to the club. There is no question that the Town and City of Brookfield and the Village of Elm Grove are home to some people of considerable means. But the more relevant question remains this - does that reality define the collective character of the individuals comprising these communities?

The financial means of my parents was at best, modest. They carved out a good life for their family, often denying themselves things that today are deemed necessities, so that their kids would have what they needed. While we never lacked for anything critical, it was clear to us as we grew up that at times they struggled financially. This background was the source of a major culture shock when I attended a small, liberal arts college in Michigan. There was a lot of money there - and I mean BIG money. Suddenly I was hanging with and dating eighteen year old kids who had nicer cars than my parents, had grown up in country clubs and prep. schools, and had never once in their young lives encountered the notion of financial limitation. I admit to having some resentment at the time. Who are you, I thought, to have all these things that my parents didn't have?

While there I got to know some of the wealthiest families in the United States, and as I did a reality became clear. Many of them were also amongst the finest people I had ever met; the content of their character, to paraphrase Martin Luther King, exceeding the considerable content of their bank accounts. And of course some of them were cruds. But I came to realize that it was not their money or their cars or their club memberships that defined them, any more than our LACK of those things defined my family. It was the content of their character that defined them.

I thought a lot about this as I read the comments that peppered the pages of Brookfield Now. I kept trying to reconcile those horrific descriptions with the people I know in this area. I couldn't do it, and I still can't.

Most of the people in Brookfield that Barb and I know work hard every day, doing their best to care for their families and to support their schools and churches. We know countless people who give generously of their time and financial resources to charitable and humanitarian causes, often denying themselves rest, leisure, or financial betterment in order to do so. They cut their grass and shovel their driveways and care for their homes and look after their kids and watch out for their neighbors and try to use less gasoline, and guess what - they even try to save money on groceries.

I am glad that Aldi's is going to be in our community and am certain my family will patronize it.

But let's not get so swept away that we believe the presence or absence of a particular grocery store defines the character of thousands of people.

POP GOES THE CULTURE

Tom Gehl — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 12:15:00 GMT

I'm a big Sheryl Crow fan and heard her song Steve McQueen the other day. It's half anthem of rocker-rebellion and half tribute to a Hollywood King of Cool.

Crow's music is great but her lyrics might be better, and I was struck by the following lines from the song:

"We've got rock stars in the White House, but all our pop stars look like porn.

All my heroes hit the highway - they don't hang out here anymore".

All our pop stars look like porn...................

A walk down most grocery store check-out lines confirms that, and recent news on the pop culture front speaks of our continued slide. It goes without saying that cultural erosion is not a gender issue, but this latest news happened to involve Hollywood and young women. I see there are two prime time cable shows that are going to be based on the lives and - ah - careers of high priced prostitutes. LOVELY - I suppose we should send Eliot Spitzer a thank you note for this enlightened programming development.

So what's the big deal?

Well - you don't need to look very far to see the impact that our entertainment saturated and media-driven culture is having on real life. In New Jersey recently a group of young teenage girls were discovered to be circulating topless pictures of themselves throughout their middle school for no other reason than they thought it would be chique. Meanwhile at a High School Prom in Texas, a female student was barred from attending the dance because her dress was too risque (kudos to the school officials). I was doing some paperwork and watching the news when they showed a picture of the young lady. The - er - dress, was something you would expect to see on a Paris runway model - not so much a garment as a few strategically located pieces of fabric.

Regardless of where we fall on the social/political spectrum, I believe most of us can recognize such developments as inherently negative and disturbing. Our pop culture is teaching America's girls that the way to be desirable is to display themselves as street toughs who scorn any hint of reserve or, dare I say it, feminine charm.

And that's kind of a shame, don't you think?