By Russ Smith
mug1988@aol.com

It’s come to the point where the Arthur Sulzberger Jr./Gail Collins tandem at The New York Times has so degraded the daily with its intense hatred of every step George W. Bush takes that op-ed columnist Thomas Friedman is worth taking seriously. 

In fact, you could make a not-so-far-fetched case that Friedman, who considers himself a de facto ambassador to the world, is a closet moderate Republican. Friedman would never admit that, obviously, since his personal wealth and professional status is dependent upon the devoted readership of the Times, and I doubt any other newspaper would allow him to not-so-subtly flog his best-selling book The World is Flat in his semi-weekly essays.

On the same day, Feb. 24, that a xenophobic Times editorial blasted Bush on the Dubai Ports World deal, which all but said, “We’re all Pat Buchanans now,” Friedman firmly endorsed the transaction. The editorialist, who admitted that it was “satisfying” to see Bush rebuffed by spineless Republicans and Democrats alike, did say it was a “serious issue.” 

No kidding: The jingoism expressed by nervous elected officials looking to the midterm elections is cause for alarm. But that’s not what the Times had in mind, if this ridiculous sentence is any indication: “A White House that invaded Iraq as a substitute [emphasis mine] for defeating Al Qaeda is frustrated because Congress is using the company, Dubai Ports World, as a stand-in for all the intractable perils of the Middle East.” No blood for oil—and let’s all hope that George Clooney’s sloppy Syriana cleans up at the Oscars.

By contrast, Friedman, after obligatory slaps at Bush to keep his base happy, wrote: “As a country, we must not go down this road of global ethnic profiling—looking for Arabs under our beds the way we once looked from commies. If we do—if America, the world’s beacon of pluralism and tolerance, goes down that road—we will take the rest of the world with us… If there were a real security issue here, I’d join the critics. But the security argument is bogus and, I would add, borderline racist.”

Friedman’s a made-man at the Times and so is allowed to trumpet India’s “flourishing democracy” and say that in this “flat world,” the Muslim youth so enraged by the innocuous Danish cartoons acted out because they’ve been marginalized by their countries and have “thin skin.” That sounds closer to Bush’s ideology than Sulzberger’s.

Another Times editorial (Feb. 23), “Selling Junk Food to Toddlers,” was just as goofy, as it nearly called for censorship of advertising. Here’s a truly mind-boggling example of Timesthink: “Parents are the first line of defense [against the marketing of Oreos and Fruity Pebbles, but not Ben & Jerry’s], but it’s tough to hold the line in the grocery store against the piercing whines of little ones when they spot a sugary treat sponsored by a favorite cartoon character. The government and the food and media industries need to help out.”

Why? The Times doesn’t believe so, but I think parents can make their own decisions about what food to buy without “help” from the government. Besides, there are more pressing concerns in the world of the “little ones.”   

Idiotic decisions by elementary school officials across the country are the norm today, whether it’s disciplining a youngster for stashing a water pistol in his locker or playing too ferociously during the now frowned-upon game of dodgeball. But certainly the absurdity of 21st century educational culture reached a new low several weeks ago when a six-year-old boy in Brockton, Mass., was temporarily suspended for sexual harassment. Newsweek columnist Anna Quindlen, who used her space in the March 6 issue to moan that Ruth Bader Ginsburg is now the only woman on the Supreme Court—maybe the former Times scold should’ve worked harder for John Kerry in 2004—probably believes this is progress, but I believe a majority of Americans thinks it’s nonsense.

The kid in question supposedly put two of his fingers inside a female playmate’s waistband and immediately became more dangerous than, say, a mad Iranian mullah, to the NOW crowd. Surprisingly, the incident didn’t metastasize into a “playdate” rape charge—maybe I’m naïve about the onset of puberty these days, but it’s unfathomable that the fellow was sexually mature, and his gal were simply, in the argot of a generation ago, “playing doctor”—but the embarrassment caused his family is in and of itself obscene.

The Wall Street Journal’s Ned Crabb wrote a fine “De Gustibus” column for the paper on Feb. 24, composed no doubt in utter bewilderment after the news emanated from Brockton, and offered well-needed perspective on the case. “Sexual harassment at age six,” Crabb mused. “Growing up kind of fast these days aren’t they?… The whole thing is stupid—children poking at one another and then being punished for it in terms of adult concepts, described with adult words.”

Crabb, who was an Oklahoma public school student more than 50 years ago, recalls a few of his own indiscretions, including “messing up the hair” of a girl he had a crush on, that in today’s environment would result in more than a lecture from the teacher. Who knows, it’s possible if Crabb had been labeled a sexual predator—or delinquent because of a fight he had with “the scariest student-thug in two school districts”—back then, his life might’ve taken a less successful arc. He says, quite sensibly, “Most children do have an innate sense of what is fair and what ‘ain’t,’ and they will, quite often, settle things themselves.”

This isn’t to say that youngsters of previous generations were all angels with dirty faces and didn’t deserve upbraiding on various occasions. I remember a bunch of creeps at Huntington’s Simpson Junior High School who daily made fun of the janitor (this was before the empowering “sanitation engineer” euphemism), a courteous and unassuming gentleman, just because he wielded a mop and broom for a living. And it still sickens me to think of the cruel pranks played upon a strict history teacher, merely because she was “old” (which when you’re 14, could mean 50) and not married.

Nevertheless, as Crabb says, squabbles between students themselves did have a way of working themselves out. About once a fortnight, the after-school attraction was a scheduled fistfight between two enemies; always held in nearby Hecksher Park and attended by up to 50 boys and girls. This bare-knuckles kind of entertainment wasn’t generally my preferred way to get kicks, but I do remember one rip-roaring bout that attracted more than the usual crowd. One fall day, two of my friends, both ninth graders, had some sort of dispute that resulted in a date at the park. I don’t think either one of them actually wanted to go through with it, but after the goading of their allies they couldn’t back down.

It was all over in about 10 minutes, with Jimmy winning a TKO against nemesis Danny, by virtue of a bloody nose and split slacks. Danny, who went on to become a successful entertainer, did hold his ground, however, didn’t cry and took home the moral victory. Jimmy’s future was sad. Not long after that squabble, his sister was killed in a bicycle accident and he never really recovered, drowning in drugs and dealing as his family fell apart. He was a popular, affable kid who became one of that era’s casualties. Last I heard, he was homeless, bumming for change in Southern California, his memory and dreams shot to smithereens.

Neither of the boys was disciplined by the school’s principal, which was appropriate, particularly since the rumble occurred on their own time. Had this happened today, in Brockton or Huntington, it wouldn’t surprise me if both of them were carted off to a “sensitivity” center. With no “sugary treats” allowed.