Global warming? Try global firing

I lost my job today. It's a little embarrassing to talk about, and frankly, I could use some help determining if my boss was justified in showing me the door. Here's how it all went down:

I am in charge of my company's advertising activities. I plan the message, vehicle, and specifications of each ad we produce. This requires me to review each contract with each trade news outlet thoroughly to ensure we both are getting what we want. This can be tedious work. Sometimes the print is incredibly small; there are numbers, footnotes, and other general clutter that make suffering these contracts quite brutal indeed.

Recently, we began negotiations for the largest ad buy in our company's history: a contract that represents a commitment well beyond the next decade. Unlike normal ad proposals from trade outlets, this one required significant examination by every relevant member of our staff. When negotiations began, several objected to certain components of the contract, but I believed most of these concerns were alleviated.

There was never any tight deadline to make the deal official. We are about to enter into trade show season, which requires key members of our team to be on the road and therefore apart from the negotiations, but there really wasn't any pressing need to sign and stamp the deal. Still, by late yesterday, it appeared we were ready to let everyone sleep on the agreement one more night and finalize it in the morning.

Then the trade media outlet did something unprecedented: In an email time-stamped at 3:00 AM Friday morning, they included a large appendix to the contract. It increased the number of pages in the contract by nearly a quarter, and appeared to be mostly legal in nature.

That's when I made the move that ultimately cost me my job: Without reading the complete text of this most important document, I approved it and entered into the contract. My boss actually read the contract late in the day, and was about to call the whole deal off. Then he learned of my action. Apparently, the section included in the middle of the night was a game-changer. I couldn't have known.

For the sake of my family and friends, the above narrative is fictitious. It never happened. Only a fool would act to alter the course of history without first knowing what his action entails, right? Well, apparently such due diligence is too much of a hassle in the United States Congress.

As you all now know, historic global warming legislation was passed late Friday in the House. I won't bore you with the details of the 1,500-page bill, but know this: It fundamentally alters how you and I consume energy in this country. And by alters, I mean dramatically increases its cost.

According to one analysis of the bill:

If the latest Waxman-Markey proposal is signed into law, its economic impact by 2035 will be as follows:

• Direct energy costs will rise by more than $1,500 per year for the typical family of four. Pain at the electric meter will cause consumers to reduce electricity consumption by 26 percent. Even with this cutback, the electric bill for a family of four will be $754 higher in 2035 than it would have been in the absence of Waxman-Markey, and $12,200 higher in total from 2012 to 2035.
• Higher gasoline prices will have forced households to cut consumption by 15 percent, but a family of four will still pay $596 more in 2035 and $7,500 more in total from 2012 to 2035.
• In total, for the years 2012-2035, a family of four will see its direct energy costs rise by $22,800. These inflation-adjusted numbers do not include the indirect energy costs consumers will pay as producers raise prices to recapture their higher production costs. Also excluded are the higher costs of developing more energy-efficient cars and appliances, the disutility of driving smaller, less safe vehicles, and the discomfort of using less heating and cooling.
• As the economy adjusts to shrinking GDP and rising energy prices, employment will take a big hit. On average, employment will be lower by 1,105,000 jobs per year. In some years, cap and trade will reduce employment by nearly 2.5 million jobs.

You can quibble with this assessment if you like. Politics, if nothing else, is a game of cherry-picking facts. But the part that is most troubling to me - scratch that - the part that infuriates me, is that as of Thursday night, this bill was 1,200 pages (which is the basis for the above assessment). By Friday morning, it was 1,500 pages. In the middle of the night, 300 pages were added to this historic piece of legislation.

And virtually no Member of Congress read it.

And this has happened before.

In my fictional account, my boss would have been completely justified in firing me. Just as we are completely justified in firing those who voted yes on this bill without reading it.

For the record, I am one who errs on the side of caution in the global warming debate. I believe we should search for ways to "get greener" (nuclear energy, e.g.). But consider this: The only analysis I've found that speaks to the bill's impact on lowering global temperatures suggests it will cool us off to the tune of two-hundredths of a degree over the next century.

Kind of makes you hot under the collar.

You feel me?

AF

Introducing: "When in Rome" Wednesdays

I am always fascinated by the sometimes profound differences brought on by living in different spots of a relatively small region. I was raised in northern Indiana, went to college in the same area, and moved to central Indiana for work after graduating. All of these places seemed fairly similar.

Yet when I took a job in Illinois, just a couple hours to the north and west, I noticed a very profound change in people, mores, and values. The culture shock was even more pronounced when we recently moved to southern Indiana. Yet, on a map, I've never lived more than a few hours' drive of any other spot I've called home.

Out of this is born the idea for a weekly feature on this blog: "When in Rome" Wednesdays. Each week, I will relay some of the experiences unique to different spots in our corner of the globe. Most of the time they will be stories from the the small, two-state radius in which I've lived. Other times they will be experiences of friends or co-workers. We've all had moments where the best we can do is shrug our shoulders and say, "When in Rome..."

In the inaugural installment, I present to you what apparently passes for road maintenance in southern Indiana:


A little background: For close to a month, I have been aware of at least a half-dozen large holes in the road on my way to work. I became aware of these by hitting them at 50 mph. Since said road is a well-traveled route, I imagine many other drivers discovered these potholes in the same manner.

Enter the Greene Co. Highway Dept, which last week, instead of filling the holes, decided the best course of action was to alert motorists with a neon pink spray-painted "HOLE" with an arrow the length of which ends flush with said hole. This helpful gesture has been replicated for each hole on the road. So now, instead of a few axle-bending, tire-shredding hazards, we now have a handful of blindingly distracting axle-bending, tire-shredding hazards.
(And yes, you are correct when you imagine the kinds of looks I received when I snapped these pictures with my camera phone.)

This method of dealing with road hazards is somewhat new to me for a variety of reasons, the main one being that virtually every road in and around Chicago, IL is under construction. Thus, a road with holes such as these would not be dealt with via Krylon can in that region. Rather, entire crews would spend months shutting down one lane at a time to complete a project that could be handled in an afternoon with a guy with a pickup and some hot mix.

Which area's method of road maintenance is better? Hard to say. But, I'm here now, so...When in Rome.

You feel me?

AF

Don't blame me, I voted for Jon and Kate

Let's get one thing clear immediately: This is not a post about who's right and who's wrong in the Jon and Kate business. Unfortunately, that will be hashed out ad nauseum over the next 24 hours on talk shows and "news" shows. On this we can all agree: It is tragic when a marriage crumbles, no matter the reason.

Yet it's abundantly clear not all Americans would agree that what is happening to a family in Pennsylvania is not the most important news of the day. On the contrary, the world is seemingly standing still while the public at large watches another marriage fall apart.

Except, of course, that the world is not standing still. There is an historic uprising in the most influential player in the Middle East; the President of the United States is making cryptic remarks about the future of health care in this country, to name a few pressing matters.

Countless other items of endlessly more consequence are occurring before our eyes, yet America chooses to spend its time watching the nation's divorce statistics padded. Health care didn't just take a back seat to Jon and Kate, it was placed in a horse trailer dragged by a 50-foot rope (see fourth and fifth posts here). On Twitter, the once-dominant "#iranelection" trending topic was surpassed by "Jon and Kate" while the climactic episode aired. Much earlier in the day, Jon and Kate had passed up trends on "Neda," the iconic Iranian woman brutally murdered by government forces.

What's most upsetting is I'll bet most of you who read the preceding paragraph were not surprised by it. That may be statement enough. It's not that no one is allowed some down time to decompress in front of the television, but it seems to me perspective is in order, and - if I may indulge in some high-horsemanship - this perspective is sorely lacking for many people.

It is not lost on me that misery loves company, and the state of marriage in this nation is such that many Americans can relate very closely with the Gosselins. The fact they're on television does not make Jon and Kate's divorce any more tragic. As in all dissolutions involving children (whether eight or one), the real victims are the young people who have no say in the matter, and can't understand why mommy and daddy don't live together anymore.

The final verdict, in my view, is at least a partial indictment of the media machine. Because my wife watched the show from its early days, I can say with some certainty that this stopped being a series about a family meeting everyday challenges amidst unique circumstances at least a couple years ago. When it became an exercise in publicity for tourist destinations, cross-promotion for other shows, and a thinly-veiled cash cow for TLC, its raison d'etre ceased. Yet it continued, to a family's peril, because ratings and revenue soared.

Would the Gosselins' marriage have survived absent the constant stress of life in front of the camera? We'll never know. And my guess is most people really don't care. What else is on?

You feel me?

AF

Mom's night out, Dad's night in (trouble)

Let me say at the outset that I like to think I have it together as a dad, for the most part. I stepped up to the plate when our incessantly fussy newborn needed comforting (see photographic proof here), take initiative changing obscene diapers (no photos of that), even don the occasional set of bunny ears or a princess hat for dress-up time (no pics of that either, sorry).

And the other night, all of that experience amounted to precisely nil.

As the wife headed out for a long-overdue night out with some new girlfriends, the task of putting our girls to bed fell squarely to me. That's fine: At least half this task falls to me on a nightly basis. I've put both to bed at different times in their lives. But those instances, I was about to find out, were under "normal" circumstances.

It started as I rocked our 18-month old, Isla. She had the sniffles and made it clear from the early going she wanted mommy to execute this chore. After vocalizing her preferences for several minutes (see: screaming), she eventually nodded off. Perfect.

I gently placed her in her crib, a move she evidently equated with some of the worst acts of betrayal in modern history, for she let out such a protest I'm half-surprised the window in her room is still in its pane.

At this point, I resolved it was best to let her cry it out for a while as I began Aislynn's routine. This did nothing to assuage Isla, and even caused dismay for Aislynn, who was forced to forfeit her usual "song time" with mommy before being tucked in. (I was a poor, poor substitute, despite putting all I had into my rendition of "There Were 12 Disciples.")

Here, it is probably easiest to relay the events that followed in a manner I have before, via timeline:

7:56 - I return to Isla's room to begin the second round of rocking, only to hear Aislynn promptly emerge from her room.

7:57 - I carry Isla with me to the hall to discover Aislynn requires a drink of water. I comply with a screaming toddler peforming her best koala grip on my arm.

8:10 - After resuming what is now round 3 of rocking Isla, I hear Aislynn beginning her own tantrum in her room. I place Isla back in her crib, bracing for the inevitable seismic yells.

8:11 - I make it to Aislynn's room to discover she is upset because...well...I don't remember anymore. She requires her eyes and nose to be wiped with a tissue.

8:20 - Very shortly into my 4th attempt to coax Isla to slumber, I hear Aislynn yelling again. I repeat the procedure of 10 minutes ago, which by now Isla assumes is a cruel joke meant to incite her to anger of unprecedented levels. She obliges in this.

8:21 - Aislynn is upset because she needs a new tissue. I hand her roughly a dozen.

8:25 - Figuring at this point it is futile to try to put this little girl to sleep, Isla comes downstairs with me to watch Wipeout.

9:00 - I try once more to get a now-exhausted Isla to sleep. The 5th time's the charm.

I like to think all three of us are stronger because of that night. In all honesty, if the wife was going to take a break, it's probably best to time it to avoid the biggest meltdown of the summer to date. Though I have expressed to the wife my fervent wish that future "Girls Night Out" excursions don't begin until approximately 10 PM.

You feel me?

AF

Thoughts on new(s) media

Back in college, in a certain broadcasting class, our professor imparted that he believed the day was quickly coming when mass media as we knew it then in the year 2001 - particularly broadcast journalism - would cease to exist. In its place, a new kind of citizen-oriented news product would emerge, wherein the consumers would bypass any story they did not deem worthy of their time, and the traditional 30-minute broadcast would be history.

I believe what happened over the weekend did more to hasten that prediction than any of us yet realize.

As many readers know, I have a general distrust and suspicion of mainstream media (see here and here), having worked in the field if only relatively briefly. In general, I believe too often news today is intended to evoke and provoke the audience, at the expense of informing them. More and more what is blatant opinion is passed off as "analysis," if an excuse is made for it at all.

In the end, the ultimate casualty is the lofty and most noble goal of journalism: telling the stories of people. That is what the audience craves: to be provided with context and to be able to empathize with our fellow man, no matter their race, creed, or religion. The best journos are the ones who place events, however complex, into the context of their most important implication: the impact on real people living real lives. Good reporters make the world smaller by showing what unites us, with an honest, tempered assessment of that which divides us. It is a difficult task in and of itself, but it is impossible when you throw in the added proclivity of most today to sensationalize and advance an agenda.

Which brings us to Iran, and the extraordinary role "social" media played and continue to play in the aftermath of that country's election. For a quick primer, read this. For those without the time, allow me to summarize in fewer than 140 characters: Social media is doing the heavy lifting for traditional outlets that can't or won't cover the popular uprising against the Iranian gov't. The microblogging from inside Iran has been remarkably candid, insightful, and informative. It is through these updates from "citizen journalists" that the world learned of events there, and rose to stand with them.

In the States, Tweeters changed profile pics green (to show solidarity with the Iranian opposition party), changed the location and time zone listings of their accounts to confuse potential Iranian censors, and set up proxy servers so Iranian Tweeters could circumvent government firewalls.

And in the process, what emerged is that purest form of journalism to which all young reporters ascribe: The audience interacted with and advanced a truly remarkable story. Not that this was the goal of the protesters in Tehran; there's was a simple relay of events as they unfolded. The tendency of sites like Twitter to encourage brevity allowed no room for long-winded and misguided "interpretation" or "analysis." (Indeed, how can one embellish in only 140 characters?) The purity and simplicity of their "reports" is in dramatic contrast to most of what we see and hear from traditional media, not because of the form these messages took, but truly because of their content - both what was included (a quality of information not found in traditional outlets) and the filler which was left out (and found in abundance in traditional outlets).

As Thomas Jefferson said, "The most valuable of talents is never using two words when one will do." The mainstream media, in the scramble to fill 24-hours' worth of news programming, almost never exhibit this talent. Social media enforces it upon its users.

All of which should serve as a powerful wake up call to the traditional media: As choice in information outlets expands to include real-time descriptions and pictures of events in places you have not yet or will not cover, your relevance shrinks. While my college prof. may not have envisioned this chain of events specifically, it is clear the world is changing in how it receives, disseminates, and responds to information.

You feel me?

AF

Divide and conquer

The following took place at the Fuller home, Bloomington, Ind., between the hours of 6:00 and 7:00 PM EDT:

6:32 - Aislynn (speaking on behalf of herself and Isla): "We want to watch some shows."

6:32 - Me: "I'll have to think about it."

6:33 - Aislynn: "Isla, mom will help us. I'll be right back." (Exits up stairs.)

6:37 - Brooke comes downstairs and puts Veggietales into DVD player.

They learn early, my friends.

The above illustrates Aislynn's newfound capacity for manipulation. Another favorite ploy is a shrewd rhetorical device by which she makes her desired activity sound like your idea. For example: She'll start by meekly asking, "Daddy, do you maybe want to play dress up?" I'll counter with a response I think is cutting to the heart of what she wants. Why not just come out and say it, right? "Do you want to play dress up, Aislynn?" Then she has me: "Ok, good idea." There's really no combating this.

I have about 12 years to learn how to stay a step ahead.

You feel me?

AF

Congratulations, it's a pandemic!

At this point, I don't know which would be worse for my digestive system: watching media coverage of swine flu, or actually contracting the illness.

For those unconscious for the last 24 hours, the World Health Organization declared the swine flu (or H1N1, for the porcine-sensitive among us) to be a global pandemic. That means it is unstoppably spreading on every continent on Earth. There's nothing that can be done to contain it at this point.

Yet I doubt I'm alone when I say I've noticed a decided reservedness on the part of the dutiful media to report this troubling news. By way of experiment, check out popular news sites here, here and here. As of this posting, news of the swine flu announcement had crept below the fold, in deference to such impact-laden stories as the Letterman-Palin tiff and the possibility of the discovery of a planet in a galaxy we'll never see, and on par with a story of the military allegedly covering up fireballs in space.

Here's the first of my problems with all this: Pandemics are the types of things that change life for ordinary citizens. While not yet declared and currently expressly discouraged by the WHO, a pandemic can lead to travel restrictions and otherwise general encumbrances on mobility. Yet the dutiful media feels it is far more important to focus on a late-night comedian's obfuscation of the line between humor and politically-driven obscenity, which happens on one channel or another almost nightly.

Inasmuch as a criterion for solid news is its impact on the audience, a global flu pandemic far outweighs any of the stories mentioned above.

Which leads me to my second mini-sermon: Where is the outright hysteria we saw at the end of April and the beginning of May? When swine flu came into its own, the media couldn't outdo one another in pounding the panic button. Contrast the link above to the pandemic declaration story to this one, from late April. Do you see a difference in the words used to describe it? In the former, current story, the situation is described in terms such as "moderate." In the latter, this "baffling" illness is "frightening." ("Frightening?!" Really?) All such reporting was only hastened by our eloquent Vice President.

This is not just explainable by the passage of time, which allowed officials and media alike to re-evaluate their breathless hysteria. No, even in early May, worst-case projections for swine flu were so mild compared to normal, seasonal flu that there really was not much cause for alarm. "Moderate" applied then more than it does now.

So what's changed? The cynic in me says this: June is not a ratings month. May is. You see, a broadcast journalist worth his or her salt would never let perspective or facts get in the way of a chance to scare people into viewing during sweeps. One local station even ran a promo one May evening promising "overnight developments on the swine flu" in the next morning's broadcast.

Here's the point: Most news today is meant to provoke and evoke, not inform. An informative piece of news is the action the WHO took today regarding swine flu; an evocative piece of news is repeating what a 62-year-old comedian said about the sexuality of a 14-year-old girl. Which story won the news cycle battle today?

This dynamic is intensified during sweeps, when third party groups monitor the audience levels of broadcast stations, which in turn determine advertising rates for those stations. During this time, media types seemingly long for tragedy and upheaval so viewers have a reason to watch. (I have anecdotal evidence to back this up, but will not expound for brevity's sake.) Rest assured if the pandemic declaration had occurred just three weeks earlier, there would be a race to see which media outlet could so overstate the facts they become the story themselves.

So with that comes a prediction: We have not heard the last of swine flu. Unless there is another manufactured crisis, the media will be back in the business of fear-mongering on this issue come July. Why? July is the next ratings month, and even the media can't make Independence Day that scary (even with the perfunctory manequin-gets-its-hand-blown-off-by-a-firecracker story).

Before ingesting news, we would be wise to run the news we are exposed to through the filter of this question: Is what I am watching/reading/hearing on the news because it's important, or is it important because it's on the news? You may find that you'll avoid stomach problems of every kind.

You feel me?

AF

PS - If anyone can identify the pic at right, leave me a shout in the comments. You will make my day.

Reading, 'Riting, Resisting

Our little Aislynn surprised us over the weekend when she took the initiative to write out the word, "MOMMY," on a sheet of stationary. Our congratulations quickly turned to consolation, however, when she became overly upset that she could not spell out "DADDY" in the same manner. For whatever reason, her little fingers couldn't make the letters. And she was upset. Her "D" was really more like...well...no perceptible letter in the Roman alphabet. There was really no way to spin what she created into anything resembling its intended purpose. And naturally, all of this got me thinking.

This article from Reader's Digest points up an all-too-common phenomenon among parents of "Millenials," children born after 1981: They are afraid or unwilling to let their children fail, even in the most seemingly harmless and constructive, instructive ways. The article has several telling anecdotes, from a teacher who foregoes the traditional red ink to grade her third graders' papers, preferring instead blue or black because, "They're less harsh," to a description of the author's unkempt child who wins a trophy for "Neatness," purely for the reason of inclusion, not success.

When we were given the definitive diagnosis on Aislynn, we were told that one of her major problems at the time was a set of parents who provided an ubiquitous safety net. We were operating under the assumption Aislynn was in some way incapable of whatever task was at hand, and therefore refused to let her try and reach inevitable failure. Cue Harvard PhD Robert Brooks, from the same RD article: "When parents rush to the rescue or take over, it sends the message, 'I don't think you're competent to handle things. I'm not sure I trust you to succeed.'"

So we resist the temptation to pre-empt more often now. When Aislynn makes a mistake, we tell her she's wrong, not that she has offered the correct answer to a different question. If she thinks she will give the correct answer every time, where is the incentive for actual achievement?

This may start with letters, but it will have far more critical implications later in life. After all, "if multiplication tables and the capital of Virginia are open for interpretation, what can youngsters really believe?"

You feel me?

AF

If only we could all be so "delayed"

Okay, enough petty stuff. Time to talk about something that matters for a change - being a father. Every father loves to brag on his kids, so indulge me while I do the same.

At left, you'll see my 3-year-old, Aislynn. At the risk of stealing my wife's thunder, I need to relay how she's touching lives, including those of her mother and father.

Aislynn has befriended two little people her own age who are suffering from neurological cancer. The kids are staying in Bloomington at Jill's House, a residence for children fighting cancer to stay with their families while treatment is administered. These precious little ones often travel from significant distances - Aislynn's little friends are from Chicago and Nashville, TN - to be here.

Aislynn's involvement started with my wife's sensitivity to a mother who needed a baby carrier (for the full story, see link above). That mother's girl, Donna, finished up treatment this week but not before being befriended by my little girl.

When my wife delivered the carrier, Aislynn immediately sought to play with Donna. No hesitation, no "kid gloves" because Donna is very visibly ill - Aislynn just saw a little girl who might want to play, and checked apprehension at the door. The two had such a rousing time that my wife and daughter were invited to Donna's going away party.

At the get-together, Aislynn greeted Donna with a sincere, "I'm so happy to see you!" Ever the socialite, it wasn't long before my little girl befriended another patient, a boy her same age named Asher. She has asked several times since that night to see Asher again so they can watch Go Diego Go and play pirates.

All of this has really impacted my own life on several levels. First, it served to reiterate just how far we've come with Aislynn. For those who don't know, there was a short stretch in which we were told Aislynn was likely autistic. (My wife does a wonderful job of chronicling this time here.) Long story short, we found she did not have autism, but rather some developmental delays affecting her speech and socialization.

Neither Donna's nor Asher's parents would have believed that. They were genuinely moved by this little girl who didn't seem to notice the pick lines and incision marks on their children. Aislynn only saw someone to value in the most cherished way she knows - a playmate.

And that is why this has touched me in a deeper way than just the pride of a father whose daughter is making new friends. Aislynn interacts with people - in this case, children of a special set - in a way most adults would envy. We all strive to look past appearances, to muster empathy from the throes of apathy, to see people for their abilities and not their disabilities. Yet we all fail. How is it this girl who is "developmentally delayed" is so far advanced from most of us in this area?

Luke 18:17

You feel me?

You know what they say about politics and raw fish...

Back in the television news days, I was responsible for booking guests for the morning newscast I also anchored. One particular morning, we had a sushi expert on the show to teach us some of the finer points of the Asian cuisine. He brought with him some samples.

I had never tried sushi before that day. But, I had observed countless others enjoying it, and therefore figured it was something I had to do to earn some sort of bizarre credibility.

For those of you who actually enjoy sushi, my guess is you've not had it after it had been sitting under television lights for approximately 90 minutes. The thought crossed my mind that actually consuming the sushi at that point was not in my best interest, but pride and peer pressure took over. And not long after, so did Mother Nature.

I bore you with that story to reiterate the time-honored truth that just because everyone else is doing it, you don't have to.

The politically-minded among you likely saw news of President Obama's hot date to New York to see a Broadway play. Much ado was made about the cost to the taxpayers, the unseemliness of such a venture when General Motors was about to announce its death a few hours later, etc.

The GOP ripped the president in a press release that said, according to reports, "As President Obama prepares to wing into Manhattan’s theater district on Air Force One to take in a Broadway show, GM is preparing to file bankruptcy and families across America continue to struggle to pay their bills." (I say according to reports, because I have been unable to find the release on the RNC Web site, perhaps intuitively so.)

A meek suggestion for the GOP: This is not a battle you should choose, because it's not a battle you can win. My problem is not with the above statement, or indeed, with any criticisms of a lavish evening at taxpayer expense while thousands more face the prospect of unemployment due to an iconic American industrial figure's failure. Rather, attacking Mr. Obama on this rings of desperation and petulance.

Republicans need to realize the class warfare argument is spoken for. The other side is decades ahead of the GOP in seeking to pit the "working class" versus the "wealthy" (to wit, this shining example of misinformation from which you could be forgiven for thinking the only people who ever receive tax cuts are those with six-figure incomes).

Painting Obama as out of touch is a losing political battle, even if the argument is technically correct. As LA Times blogger Johanna Neuman rightly points out: "The truth is that the real cost of the trip, the political cost, is something Obama can shoulder because he is a popular president in his first year of office. Next year's date nights might not be as extravagant." Moreover, even if the public cared (and I'm not convinced they really do), the parallel could always be drawn (no matter how tenuous) to President Bush's trips back and forth to Crawford.

Republicans will always lament their impotence so long as they borrow the tactics of their opponents. They would do much better to stick to issues, and not give Obama's press corps an excuse to paint them as grumpy, petty whiners who are devoid of anything new to offer. Take the high road, no matter how tempting that glistening sushi may be.

You feel me?

AF