It is now Hampton Classic time out here on Long Island and I had another memory jolt. It was not exactly the Hampton Classic, but I was reminded of an early Sunday morning in Mexico City. I was at the stables of the Presidential Palace for an early breakfast. You are wondering, “What on earth was he doing there?” I was too.
It was probably 1965. I was in charge of Youth Employment programs for the City of New York. John Lindsey, the Mayor, asked if I would be willing to go to Mexico to evaluate a youth employment training program called “Instituto Nacional La Juventud”, National Institute of Youth. It was wintertime and I could not be more delighted to leave the City for whatever reason. Mayor Lindsey sometimes referred to my job as, “keeping the city from burning.” (We did that by employing as many as 50,000 kids in summer jobs.)
Once in Mexico City I was treated like royalty with chauffeured car and airplane at my disposal to be able to visit any one of dozens of cities and towns that had Youth Training Programs. I would visit the programs, spend a day or two observing, and make notes. Getting back to the Horse Show.
On Friday evening my host Sergio Alvarez, Director of the Instituto, announced, “Sunday morning we ride with Mexico’s National Equestrian Team at the Presidential Palace in a practice jumping session.” You have to understand that Sergio, a small highly energetic man, spoke in proclamations that came out as major facts that simply could not be denied. Yet I valiantly tried saying, “Segio, I know how to ride a horse but for God sake I would not think for a moment I could ride with Mexico’s best riders. Besides, I know absolutely nothing about jumping a horse over a hurdle and I have no riding clothes.” That last was a desperate attempt to get out of this impending disaster. To Sergio it mattered not. “Roberto,” he announced, “we have all your sizes and your clothes and boots will be waiting for you at the arena.” And so I gave up to Sergio’s determination that this was going to happen.
Early Sunday morning there was Sergio all decked out in boots, jodhpurs, tailored riding jacket, and helmet, assuring me that the very same outfit awaited me at the stable. We arrived at this great hall where dozens of men where already at a breakfast of evueltos con jamon (eggs rancheros). There was no silverware and I noticed people were using there rolls as a way of scooping up the peppers and eggs.
I was greeted as a dignitary from Ustatos Unitos who will honor us by riding in our Le Pista. I was still hoping that the riding outfit wouldn’t fit and that would be my way out. At this point Sergio was insisting that it would be a real insult if I were to withdraw. “Roberto,” he exclaimed,”do you want to insult us by being disdainful of our riding ability? No Roberto, for the sake of the relations between our two great countries you must ride.” Sergio was what some Mexican friends described as a “declamador” who declaimed as though he was addressing the multitudes. Nothing to do but put on the outfit (it fit amazingly well) and make the best of it.
We proceeded to the riding hall and again it was announced that Roberto Schranko from Ustados Unidos would be riding with the equestrian team. As I watched these fabulous riders and their horses go over the hurdles from a foot off the ground to what appeared like six feet, I was in awe of their grace and the ease with which they managed the ride. I did not have a clue regarding how they were being judged. It was getting to be late morning and I thought, “oh well, they probably forgot about me,” when Sergio came to remind me it was time to “mount up.” Back to the stable. There was a beautiful horse held in check by a groom who very graciously with a movement of his hand toward the horse suggested I mount, which I did. Once up in the saddle it seemed to me this was the tallest horse I had ever been on.
Adding to my overwhelming anxiety and prayer that this horse would know what to do, since I didn’t, was the fact that I was sitting on an English saddle instead of a nice Western with that great knob up front you could hold on to when things got hairy. Everything from here on out was now in the hands of the Gods or the horse or both.
The groom led us into the Le Pista and sort of sent me and the horse off to the very first hurdle. I gave the reigns a little lift, which is what I thought was a signal to the horse to jump. Past that first hurdle there was a round of applause from the audience. I thought, “well heck that wasn’t so bad.” Then came the next and the next and the next, and after each one a loud applause. As I approached that final six footer I thought, “man just hang on here or for sure you will be dumped.” But this dear sweet horse just took it his stride and over we went. Now there was thunderous applause. Sergio came forward to congratulate me on my great spirit in making the Mexican’s feel good by knocking down every single pole from the first to the last. “Roberto, you are a great friend of Mehico and we will never forget what you did here today.”
As the trophies were handed out I was given a silver belt buckle with a Road Runner bird on it. I thought that was a perfect portrayal of me at the “Hampton Classic” in Mexico City. This was yet another case of “never look back” for if I had I would have realized how absurd this whole episode was. I did thank the horse for getting me though without a single refusal to jump.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Thursday, September 6, 2007
A Letter to the President
Since the beginning of the Iraq war you have been receiving the advice from an assortment of generals. You have made repeated visits to the Pentagon, as well as secret sojourns to Iraq for advice from the General Staff. I am sure when you were flown out to the deck of the Aircraft Carrier Abraham Lincoln some years back you were told by the Joint Chiefs of Staff that our “mission” in Iraq “was accomplished”.
Mr. President, are you at all aware of the fact that an incredible number of people who are well informed and very knowledgeable about the Middle East have suggested that our problem in Iraq is not military but political? That as long as the various tribal and religious groups cannot come to some agreement as to what their country should look like, we can win military victories till the cows come home and it won’t make a hill of beans difference to the ongoing war between these groups?
Now Mr. President, with all due respect, you have been traveling in the wrong direction to get yourself some help with the Iraq problem. I suggest you visit some folks on Massachusetts Avenue in Washington DC who have had it right about the situation in Iraq from the beginning. Very early on in the war Jessica Matthews, the President of the Carnegie Endowment for Peace, was being interviewed on television about the Iraq war. She firmly suggested back then that the war was a very bad idea. She explained that the long standing hatred and bitterness between the religious and nationalist factions, some of which go back for centuries, will not be resolved by any military intervention. When asked what we should do, she said to get out because our presence will just make things worse. When you think about it, it becomes crystal clear that this lady knew what she was talking about. She understood the social and political complexity of the situation. Wouldn’t she be an interesting advisor in our present dilemma?
Now Mr. President, there’s somebody who had it right from the gitgo. Would it not be prudent and wise to listen to people who have a deep understanding of the political, religious and tribal conflicts, instead of Generals who know about making traditional war but don’t appear to know beans about the long history of tribal animosities? The Carnegie Endowment has a large staff of knowledgeable people who just might be able to help us figure out how to get out of there by doing the least amount of harm. Besides all that, a trip over to Massachusetts Avenue would save the taxpayers a lot of money compared to whisking you over to Iraq in the middle of the night with all that Secret Service paraphernalia that has to accompany you. Please do think about it, Mr. President. It just might save the lives of a few more of our dear young men.
As always “thanks Kate”. NHWY. Love, Roberto
Mr. President, are you at all aware of the fact that an incredible number of people who are well informed and very knowledgeable about the Middle East have suggested that our problem in Iraq is not military but political? That as long as the various tribal and religious groups cannot come to some agreement as to what their country should look like, we can win military victories till the cows come home and it won’t make a hill of beans difference to the ongoing war between these groups?
Now Mr. President, with all due respect, you have been traveling in the wrong direction to get yourself some help with the Iraq problem. I suggest you visit some folks on Massachusetts Avenue in Washington DC who have had it right about the situation in Iraq from the beginning. Very early on in the war Jessica Matthews, the President of the Carnegie Endowment for Peace, was being interviewed on television about the Iraq war. She firmly suggested back then that the war was a very bad idea. She explained that the long standing hatred and bitterness between the religious and nationalist factions, some of which go back for centuries, will not be resolved by any military intervention. When asked what we should do, she said to get out because our presence will just make things worse. When you think about it, it becomes crystal clear that this lady knew what she was talking about. She understood the social and political complexity of the situation. Wouldn’t she be an interesting advisor in our present dilemma?
Now Mr. President, there’s somebody who had it right from the gitgo. Would it not be prudent and wise to listen to people who have a deep understanding of the political, religious and tribal conflicts, instead of Generals who know about making traditional war but don’t appear to know beans about the long history of tribal animosities? The Carnegie Endowment has a large staff of knowledgeable people who just might be able to help us figure out how to get out of there by doing the least amount of harm. Besides all that, a trip over to Massachusetts Avenue would save the taxpayers a lot of money compared to whisking you over to Iraq in the middle of the night with all that Secret Service paraphernalia that has to accompany you. Please do think about it, Mr. President. It just might save the lives of a few more of our dear young men.
As always “thanks Kate”. NHWY. Love, Roberto
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Katrina
My wife Kate and I were watching the second anniversary of Katrina and all that didn’t happen. By now the constant showing of the Gulf Coast destruction and the failure to do anything about the 9th Ward or the Hospital in New Orleans, formally one of our “Great Cities”, created in Kate a marked irritability not common in folks born and raised in Minnesota.
After additional reports of the increased murder rates in New Orleans, well above pre-Katrina rates, there was the revelation that the New Orleans Police Dept. does not even have a functioning copying machine. Kate thought maybe they could borrow one from the Iraqi’s. Then she exclaimed, ”How can we expect anyone on planet earth to take us seriously when they see our incompetence and neglect to fix New Orleans? Do we really think we can build a democratic nation out of the wreckage of Iraq when we are unable to fix just one city in our own country?”
I do believe, instead of the world’s great fixers, we have become the world’s laughing stock. Maybe we should send the Army Corps of Three Stooges to straighten out the infrastructure in Iraq. -- “Good By and Good Luck.”
After additional reports of the increased murder rates in New Orleans, well above pre-Katrina rates, there was the revelation that the New Orleans Police Dept. does not even have a functioning copying machine. Kate thought maybe they could borrow one from the Iraqi’s. Then she exclaimed, ”How can we expect anyone on planet earth to take us seriously when they see our incompetence and neglect to fix New Orleans? Do we really think we can build a democratic nation out of the wreckage of Iraq when we are unable to fix just one city in our own country?”
I do believe, instead of the world’s great fixers, we have become the world’s laughing stock. Maybe we should send the Army Corps of Three Stooges to straighten out the infrastructure in Iraq. -- “Good By and Good Luck.”
Sunday, August 26, 2007
On Becoming a Blogger
This is week two in my new world of Blog. Some friends have wanted to know, “How does a 90 year old geezer become a blogger?” Ah, a good question. I have been hollering and swearing at the computer for some years now, mostly writing books like “Ten Thousand Working Days” and “Wasn’t That a Time - Growing up Radical & Red in America”, both published by MIT Press. That led me to the e-mailing world of communication. I began to send comments on the news of the day to people I knew.
There are serious changes taking place that have made me think increasingly about the growing role of the Internet as a primary news source. Being a compulsive NY Times reader, I have noticed how the paper is shrinking not only in its physical size but in its news coverage There is also a noticeable disappearance of advertising, its basic source of revenue. I have come to believe we are seeing the end of newspapers, at least as I have known them in my long life. That would leave me with the computer becoming my primary news source. But hold on there. A few weeks ago I had an epiphany that opened my eyes to the wonders that this new medium can perform. Old computer hackers will certainly yawn as they read this. But anyway.
I attended a play on Broadway called “Eurydice” that is based on Greek mythology. In the world of the Greek Gods, Orpheus is known as the divine Lyre player. It was said that he played so beautifully that he made the rocks sing and the trees followed his music as he walked in the forest.
Orpheus and the beautiful Eurydice get married. While walking through the grass at their wedding a poison serpent bites her foot and she dies. She is in the Greek Underworld, which is sort of comparable to Christian Purgatory. Orpheus goes down to the Underworld to reclaim her and the headmaster says, “Okay, you can have her back on the condition that you do not look at her until you are back on earth”. Orpheus is delighted. Off the two of them go with Orpheus leading the way and Eurydice behind him. As they come near the end of the voyage home Orpheus, unable any longer to resist seeing his beautiful bride, turns and looks at her. Zippo, she is gone forever into the Underworld.
As a child I had been told that story by my father while listening to Offenbach’s Overture to “Orpheus in The Underworld”. Then, and now, I was never able to understand why he looked back at her, broke his pledge and lost her forever? I was sitting at my computer, so I thought, “Oh what the heck, why don’t I ask Google?” A long list of citations and explanations of what happened on the way out of the Underworld came up. “Orpheus got the sun in his eyes.” Thinking he was already out of the Underworld, which he was not, he turned and looked at Eurydice. And with that she was gone. Like in the Willie Nelson song “Tougher than Leather” where he sings, “Never shoot when you are facing the sun.” Too bad Orpheus never heard of Willie Nelson.
Another “don’t look back” admonition was uttered by a famous Black baseball pitcher, Satchel Paige. Long before Jackie Robinson made it into the major leagues, Paige was pitching in what was then called “The Negro Leagues.” In exhibition games Paige was striking out the major leagues greatest hitters, including Ruth and Gehrig. Paige’s quote, “Never look back he might be gaining on you”, was often used as an admonition to just go forward. Though I never heard Paige explain it, I assumed the “he” referred to was none other than the Grim Reaper. Unlike Paige, I think looking back is essential if we are to learn from our earlier mistakes. Eighty-three of my 90 years was lived in the Twentieth Century. I intend to spend a lot of time there learning its lessons.
Getting back to the Internet, I have been overwhelmed by the information that can be retrieved there. I spent hours looking up all kinds of esoteric questions. I thought, imagine if this had been available when I was in my late forties and going to college at night. All those hours digging in the stacks, I could have been having a beer at a local gin mill. It’s almost too easy. Now I wonder, can one really learn if it is made too easy? Is there any relationship between what is learned and how difficult it is to learn it? Another question for another day.
For some time now I have been sending out “missal’s” to my friends as a way of sharing my thoughts and getting discussion going. Recently three of my grandchildren in their thirties were visiting from the west coast. “Grandpa, you should do a blog. Whether what you have to say is current or from the early Twentieth Century, you can always connect it to the contemporary. We’ll help you set it up.” And so here I am.
As always “thanks Kate”. N H W Y. Love Roberto
There are serious changes taking place that have made me think increasingly about the growing role of the Internet as a primary news source. Being a compulsive NY Times reader, I have noticed how the paper is shrinking not only in its physical size but in its news coverage There is also a noticeable disappearance of advertising, its basic source of revenue. I have come to believe we are seeing the end of newspapers, at least as I have known them in my long life. That would leave me with the computer becoming my primary news source. But hold on there. A few weeks ago I had an epiphany that opened my eyes to the wonders that this new medium can perform. Old computer hackers will certainly yawn as they read this. But anyway.
I attended a play on Broadway called “Eurydice” that is based on Greek mythology. In the world of the Greek Gods, Orpheus is known as the divine Lyre player. It was said that he played so beautifully that he made the rocks sing and the trees followed his music as he walked in the forest.
Orpheus and the beautiful Eurydice get married. While walking through the grass at their wedding a poison serpent bites her foot and she dies. She is in the Greek Underworld, which is sort of comparable to Christian Purgatory. Orpheus goes down to the Underworld to reclaim her and the headmaster says, “Okay, you can have her back on the condition that you do not look at her until you are back on earth”. Orpheus is delighted. Off the two of them go with Orpheus leading the way and Eurydice behind him. As they come near the end of the voyage home Orpheus, unable any longer to resist seeing his beautiful bride, turns and looks at her. Zippo, she is gone forever into the Underworld.
As a child I had been told that story by my father while listening to Offenbach’s Overture to “Orpheus in The Underworld”. Then, and now, I was never able to understand why he looked back at her, broke his pledge and lost her forever? I was sitting at my computer, so I thought, “Oh what the heck, why don’t I ask Google?” A long list of citations and explanations of what happened on the way out of the Underworld came up. “Orpheus got the sun in his eyes.” Thinking he was already out of the Underworld, which he was not, he turned and looked at Eurydice. And with that she was gone. Like in the Willie Nelson song “Tougher than Leather” where he sings, “Never shoot when you are facing the sun.” Too bad Orpheus never heard of Willie Nelson.
Another “don’t look back” admonition was uttered by a famous Black baseball pitcher, Satchel Paige. Long before Jackie Robinson made it into the major leagues, Paige was pitching in what was then called “The Negro Leagues.” In exhibition games Paige was striking out the major leagues greatest hitters, including Ruth and Gehrig. Paige’s quote, “Never look back he might be gaining on you”, was often used as an admonition to just go forward. Though I never heard Paige explain it, I assumed the “he” referred to was none other than the Grim Reaper. Unlike Paige, I think looking back is essential if we are to learn from our earlier mistakes. Eighty-three of my 90 years was lived in the Twentieth Century. I intend to spend a lot of time there learning its lessons.
Getting back to the Internet, I have been overwhelmed by the information that can be retrieved there. I spent hours looking up all kinds of esoteric questions. I thought, imagine if this had been available when I was in my late forties and going to college at night. All those hours digging in the stacks, I could have been having a beer at a local gin mill. It’s almost too easy. Now I wonder, can one really learn if it is made too easy? Is there any relationship between what is learned and how difficult it is to learn it? Another question for another day.
For some time now I have been sending out “missal’s” to my friends as a way of sharing my thoughts and getting discussion going. Recently three of my grandchildren in their thirties were visiting from the west coast. “Grandpa, you should do a blog. Whether what you have to say is current or from the early Twentieth Century, you can always connect it to the contemporary. We’ll help you set it up.” And so here I am.
As always “thanks Kate”. N H W Y. Love Roberto
Friday, August 17, 2007
The German Question Again
The Consequences of Fear
The German Question Again
For those who have read “Wasn’t That a Time” I am sure you will recall my childhood growing up in the world of German Socialists. With the emergence of the Nazi fascist movement in the twenties and thirties my “Papa’ became an active anti fascist who was predicting the eventual catastrophe that would befall Germany. What made it so painful for Papa was his powerful belief in the Germany of Goethe, Schiller, Beethoven, Mozart et al. And so I grew up watching my dear father’s most precious world turn into the darkest era in the history of western civilization.
All my life I have struggled to understand how the Germans could become the inventors of the Holocaust? I never really forget what happened in the Nazis years, but periodically there will come along another book or movie that causes me to start all over again trying to untie this knot of horrors by understanding how this could have happened? I am also in pursuit of any lessons to be learned that can be applied to our own politics here at home.
Rudolph Adorno did a study of the Authoritarian Personality following WWII that tried to identify the personality that totally accepts authority. This typology strongly fit the average German. “I was ordered to do it.” “I just go along.” etc. Remember the sixties and the bumper sticker, “Question Authority” That was a derivation from the Adorno study. (You can test yourself on the F scale. Go to Google and put in Adorno. The F stands for fascism.)
Two recent movies, “The Lives of Others” and “The Black Book” reminded me again of my dear Papa’s nightmare. In the latter the victim is added to the blacklist, thrown out of his job and is unable to find another. Everyone is in a state of extreme fear. “The Black Book” is particularly troubling as it explores the complexity of how people living under a Nazis occupation in Holland respond. This is a little closer to what happened here in the US in the fifties.
I have a personal history that demonstrates how fear creates conformity. In my FBI file there is a memo from J. Edgar Hoover, Director of the FBI pinning a number on my name saying that “in case of a National Emergency Robert Schrank is to be incarcerated in a detention camp.” The summoning of citizens like the Hollywood Ten before the House Un-American Activities Committee was all part of the fear campaign. And boy did it work. It was part of the fear that McCarthy had unleashed and supported by a powerful part of the press that caused ordinary people to withdraw from any possibility that they might be tagged as “subversive”. Some went off to live in Mexico, Canada or Paris; others became apolitical, withdrew, or just “went along.” The latter is the objective of the fear.
It became clear that the first element of a fascist takeover is fear. The fear needed to be directed to a target. For a variety of historical reasons the Jews were chosen as the ideal target for releasing pent up energy of fear. What the Nazis added to the phenomena of fear was a unique kind of terror, as exemplified by Krystalnacht when the Nazi’s went on a rampage of destruction of every Jewish owned business in the country. That was the terror. For the average German that simply meant CONFORM to our anti semitism OR ELSE.
In the movie “The Black Book” the hated Nazi occupiers are clearly the “bad guys”, but even they are shown with some human qualities, like falling in love with a Jewish woman who is working for the underground resistance. And I am reminded how very ordinary Germans could tend the ovens.
The terror against those who did not conform brought the fear to levels of turning friend against friend, Christians against Jews, all against homosexuals, communists, and Gypsy’s. A whole nation living in terror and fear.
As I wander in this nightmare I am reminded of the McCarthy era and how a cloud of fear and foreboding seemed to cover the land. I knew at least some of the victims of that era. What comes back to me is the all-pervasive fear of “who would be the next.”
The present situation here at home has at least one of the symptoms of the fascist disease. That is the use of fear as a way to control the electorate. Having said that, I hasten to add that in contrast to Germany there is something in our anti authoritarian democratic tradition that permits the emergence of enough people willing to speak out in spite of fear. This gives me hope for the future. Yet, I believe the present wave of fear has had a profound underneath influence on the countries collective psyche.
So it is good to constantly be on guard against those in power who sow fear by accusing anyone who doesn’t go along as being unpatriotic or not supporting the troops or subversive. Just keep questioning authority, especially when they start lying and repeat the lies over and over until the average soul ends up believing it, like “the weapons of mass destruction.”
The German Question Again
For those who have read “Wasn’t That a Time” I am sure you will recall my childhood growing up in the world of German Socialists. With the emergence of the Nazi fascist movement in the twenties and thirties my “Papa’ became an active anti fascist who was predicting the eventual catastrophe that would befall Germany. What made it so painful for Papa was his powerful belief in the Germany of Goethe, Schiller, Beethoven, Mozart et al. And so I grew up watching my dear father’s most precious world turn into the darkest era in the history of western civilization.
All my life I have struggled to understand how the Germans could become the inventors of the Holocaust? I never really forget what happened in the Nazis years, but periodically there will come along another book or movie that causes me to start all over again trying to untie this knot of horrors by understanding how this could have happened? I am also in pursuit of any lessons to be learned that can be applied to our own politics here at home.
Rudolph Adorno did a study of the Authoritarian Personality following WWII that tried to identify the personality that totally accepts authority. This typology strongly fit the average German. “I was ordered to do it.” “I just go along.” etc. Remember the sixties and the bumper sticker, “Question Authority” That was a derivation from the Adorno study. (You can test yourself on the F scale. Go to Google and put in Adorno. The F stands for fascism.)
Two recent movies, “The Lives of Others” and “The Black Book” reminded me again of my dear Papa’s nightmare. In the latter the victim is added to the blacklist, thrown out of his job and is unable to find another. Everyone is in a state of extreme fear. “The Black Book” is particularly troubling as it explores the complexity of how people living under a Nazis occupation in Holland respond. This is a little closer to what happened here in the US in the fifties.
I have a personal history that demonstrates how fear creates conformity. In my FBI file there is a memo from J. Edgar Hoover, Director of the FBI pinning a number on my name saying that “in case of a National Emergency Robert Schrank is to be incarcerated in a detention camp.” The summoning of citizens like the Hollywood Ten before the House Un-American Activities Committee was all part of the fear campaign. And boy did it work. It was part of the fear that McCarthy had unleashed and supported by a powerful part of the press that caused ordinary people to withdraw from any possibility that they might be tagged as “subversive”. Some went off to live in Mexico, Canada or Paris; others became apolitical, withdrew, or just “went along.” The latter is the objective of the fear.
It became clear that the first element of a fascist takeover is fear. The fear needed to be directed to a target. For a variety of historical reasons the Jews were chosen as the ideal target for releasing pent up energy of fear. What the Nazis added to the phenomena of fear was a unique kind of terror, as exemplified by Krystalnacht when the Nazi’s went on a rampage of destruction of every Jewish owned business in the country. That was the terror. For the average German that simply meant CONFORM to our anti semitism OR ELSE.
In the movie “The Black Book” the hated Nazi occupiers are clearly the “bad guys”, but even they are shown with some human qualities, like falling in love with a Jewish woman who is working for the underground resistance. And I am reminded how very ordinary Germans could tend the ovens.
The terror against those who did not conform brought the fear to levels of turning friend against friend, Christians against Jews, all against homosexuals, communists, and Gypsy’s. A whole nation living in terror and fear.
As I wander in this nightmare I am reminded of the McCarthy era and how a cloud of fear and foreboding seemed to cover the land. I knew at least some of the victims of that era. What comes back to me is the all-pervasive fear of “who would be the next.”
The present situation here at home has at least one of the symptoms of the fascist disease. That is the use of fear as a way to control the electorate. Having said that, I hasten to add that in contrast to Germany there is something in our anti authoritarian democratic tradition that permits the emergence of enough people willing to speak out in spite of fear. This gives me hope for the future. Yet, I believe the present wave of fear has had a profound underneath influence on the countries collective psyche.
So it is good to constantly be on guard against those in power who sow fear by accusing anyone who doesn’t go along as being unpatriotic or not supporting the troops or subversive. Just keep questioning authority, especially when they start lying and repeat the lies over and over until the average soul ends up believing it, like “the weapons of mass destruction.”
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