THANKS, YOU ARROGANT SO AND SO!

By Edwin Cooney

I’m not much of a television watcher or moviegoer.  Even as something of an old time radio listener, my thoughts and feelings about Jerry Lewis -- actor, comedian and Labor Day Weekend host raising funds to conquer Muscular Dystrophy -- are ambiguous to say the least.  Believe it or not, I’ve lived weeks and months at a time without giving Jerry Lewis a single thought.  In fact, I’ve probably thought more about the rock singer Jerry Lee Lewis than I have about that other guy.

Then, last week, someone sent me the following petition:

To: The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences

This petition has been launched to object to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences' announcement that it will give Jerry Lewis its Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award at the Oscar Awards ceremony on February 22, 2009.

During his decades of hosting the Labor Day Telethon, Jerry Lewis has helped to perpetuate negative, stereotypical attitudes toward people with muscular dystrophy and other disabilities. Jerry Lewis and the Telethon actively promote pity as a fundraising strategy. Disabled people want RESPECT and RIGHTS, not pity and charity.

In 1990, Lewis wrote that if he had muscular dystrophy and had to use a wheelchair, he would "just have to learn to try to be good at being a half a person." During the 1992 Telethon, he said that people with MD, whom he always insists on calling "my kids," "cannot go into the workplace. There's nothing they can do." Comments like these have led disability activists and our allies to protest against Jerry Lewis. We've argued that he uses the Telethon to promote pity, a counterproductive emotion which undermines our social equality. Here's how Lewis responded to the Telethon protesters during a 2001 television interview: "Pity? You don't want to be pitied because you're a cripple in a wheelchair? Stay in your house!"

Jerry Lewis has also made derogatory comments about women and gay men. His outdated attitudes and crude remarks are dehumanizing, not humanitarian.

Therefore, we the undersigned support the actions and arguments of the coalition group The Trouble with Jerry. We protest the Academy's characterization of Jerry Lewis as a "humanitarian." And we ask that the Academy cancel its plans to give Lewis the Hersholt Humanitarian Award.

Sincerely,

 

The petition is sponsored by the “Trouble With Jerry” Committee and the chief petitioner is Laura Hershey.  Ms. Hershey is right, of course, but the tone of her petition makes her sound as intolerant and as arrogant as her target.  Even the name of her website might be objectionable to some: laura@cripcommentary.com  I don’t object to the word at all, but some do object to the word “crippled.”  I think there are a lot of people who will tell you their bodies are crippled and their eyes are blind.  What they rightfully object too is being called crippled, blind or deaf and yet, that’s how people identify them.  Chalk one up for Jerry.

Ms. Hershey, right as she is, obviously has other fish to fry.  She doesn’t like Jerry Lewis’s type of outdated thinking on a host of socio/political issues.  Okay!  Fair enough, but as I understand it, the Jean Hersholt award is an achievement award and not about attitude.  Even more, her position begs a crucial question.

If medical science finds a cure for muscular dystrophy with some of the dollars Jerry Lewis has raised, should mothers or fathers or future patients not take that medicine or vaccine because the funds raised were raised through pity?  My guess is that Ms. Hershey would gladly swallow the pills or take the shots regardless of the method used to raise the funds to stamp out MD.  We don’t avoid going into the White House or Capitol Building in D.C. because they were constructed with slave labor, do we?  Should we?

Many years ago, I was told by people who worked at the office that handles celebrities as they fly in and out of Chicago that singer Robert Goulet and actor Jerry Lewis were the most impossible people they had to work with while Muhammad Ali and Elvis Presley were the nicest.

No, I don’t much care for Jerry Lewis, but the time and the effort he’s dedicated to finding a cure for muscular dystrophy  is a hell of an achievement unless I miss my guess!  Also, it should be kept in mind that Jean Hersholt was honored for his establishment of a relief fund to provide medical aid to movie industry employees who otherwise couldn’t afford medical care.  Fundraising, after all, is exactly what Lewis has been largely about since 1966.  Have any of us, who don’t work in the medical profession,  done more about finding a cure for MD than has Jerry Lewis?  If Jerry has exploited a negative reality to achieve a good, shouldn’t society be big enough to say “Thank you, Jerry”?

Even if it hurts a bit to acknowledge that arrogant so and so, I think we’re poorer if we sign Ms. Hershey’s petition.  Whether we like him or not, Jerry Lewis deserves this award.

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,

EDWIN COONEY

MAKE HONEST ABE AWESOME ABE

By Edwin Cooney 

I don’t know what intimidates you, but writing about Abraham Lincoln sure intimidates me.  It isn’t that Mr. Lincoln is so grandly noble; it’s more that he’s so awesomely the best of you and me.  Adequately conveying that happy reality is the writer’s challenge.

Over the years, I’ve read so much about him.  I’ve read of his humble beginning, his awkward appearance, his rough speaking manner, and his determination to become educated despite little schooling.

I’ve read that he was a small town lawyer but, by the late 1850’s, he served as the chief attorney for the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.  (That’s a pretty lofty place for a small town lawyer, if you ask me!)  His capacity for storytelling and his humor were truly legendary.

I’ve read that he once got a client off a murder rap by demonstrating to the judge and jury that the prosecution’s chief witness was lying about the night in question.  With the use of an almanac, Lincoln showed that, counter to the testimony, there was no full moon on the night of the murder.

Our libraries are full of Lincolnia.  One can read about Lincoln as a storekeeper, a farmer and an inventor.  (He’s the only president who possessed a U.S. Patent.  The patent is for a device designed to raise ships above the water line thus enabling them to traverse shallow waters.) You can also read about him as a State Legislator, a U.S. Congressman, a husband and a father.

One day, Mr. Lincoln put baby Robert in a wagon to take him for a little ride. “Father Abraham” was so wrapped up in the book he was simultaneously reading that he pulled the wagon for half a block before discovering that the baby had fallen out of it!

If Lincoln’s political path to the presidency was unusually direct (the only federal experience he had before 1861 was a single term as a Whig Congressman from Illinois from1847 to 1849), the physical, environmental and even emotional obstacles he overcame were incredible.

Lincoln suffered the deprivations of economic poverty and clinical depression throughout his life.  Born with the torso of an average man, Lincoln’s arms, middle fingers, and legs were long and all out of proportion.  He suffered frequent headaches, fatigue, cold hands and cold feet.  According to William A. Degregorio’s Complete Book of Presidents, 4^th ed., at the time of his assassination, Lincoln was probably dying of heart disease brought on by Marfan Syndrome, a genetic condition that causes these abnormalities.

Two details about Abraham Lincoln’s life stand out for me. 

One night in early November 1816, young Abraham, then just seven, his older sister Sarah, along with Tom and Nancy Hanks Lincoln, arrived in Indiana from their former Kentucky home.  Dusk had fallen and the cold wind was sharp and laden with snow.  The forest was deep and dark.  Strange sounds punctuated the night.  The woods contained bears, wolves, panthers and perhaps even hostile Indians.  There were no books to read, there was no really warm bed to retire to.  The little family’s nearest neighbor was miles away.  This virgin land was their new home, but it was up to the Lincolns to transform what could have been a den of squalor into a secure haven. Young Abe would turn into such a strong and dependable lad, that Tom Lincoln actually hired him out to work for others.

The second incident took place on March 4^th, 1861.  Although lawfully elected President, Lincoln returned to the Executive Mansion to face the reality that ten states (Virginia hadn’t yet voted to secede) had bolted the Union due to his election.  Most presidents expect that nearly half of the voters are opponents. However, this situation was much worse. In order to avoid assassination, they had to literally slip President-Elect Lincoln into Washington by way of hostile Maryland. As he overcame the traumatic uncertainties of his frontier youth, however, Abraham Lincoln would begin reunifying America although the way would be long, bloody, and painfully uncertain.     

So, as we ought to, we celebrate Abraham Lincoln’s 200th birthday.  By so doing, we really celebrate our wholeness, which, I believe, is just the way President Lincoln would prefer it.

Yes, indeed, there’s much you can read about Abraham Lincoln.  You can read about him as a great debater, as the Great Emancipator, as a “racist politician” according to today’s standards, and even as the reason why this vital union remains whole and free.

I insist that “Honest Abe” should be called “Awesome Abe.”  What say you?

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,

EDWIN COONEY

FUN FUN FUN

By Edwin Cooney

I’m not really a football fan, but the annual NFL Super Bowl is more than an opportunity to watch and listen to a contest of two professional teams of athletes struggling for supremacy in their sport. Although you won’t find it on the calendar, Super Bowl Sunday is an American holiday. True, it doesn’t rate with family holidays such as Thanksgiving and Christmas, but it’s certainly equal to New Year’s Day or Labor Day. Hence, I found myself a week ago yesterday at a party at my friend Peter’s house.

Peter is one of the smartest men I’ve ever met. Born in Italy back in the mid fifties, he came with his family to America when he was about ten. By the time he was twelve he’d mastered English (or as two British friends of mine would say, he mastered American). Now in his mid fifties, he’s a brilliant computer programmer, teacher and blind accessibility technologist. Even more, his knowledge of languages, cooking, gardening, musicianship and science is almost limitless. For the past twenty-five years, he’s demonstrated generosity and patience with me as I’ve struggled to learn and master the computer. You could say he’s my computer guru.

Diane, Peter’s lady and a disability services coordinator, is not only lovely, she’s smart and possesses a quiet strength and dignity along with a helpfulness that enhances and energizes any gathering.

Frank, a young and conscientious professional, is not only quick and smart, but he continuously demonstrates a spiritual calm and depth that makes you so very glad that he LIKES you.

Tony is a perceptive and resourceful counselor in the area of physical and emotional rehabilitation. His capacity to listen to, empathize and encourage those who have struggled to overcome physical, cultural and emotional barriers is equaled by few. He was visiting us from his new home in the greater Denver, Colorado area. His love of and knowledge of sports and the human condition makes him a vital part of any conversation.

Tony is a native of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. He was naturally a Steeler’s supporter, but even as his home state heroes took what appeared to be a pretty decisive ten/nothing lead, Tony wasn’t gloating. He, like most Super Bowl observers, wanted to see a close game. After all, if the Arizona Cardinals could be easily handled, the glory of victory would be slightly tarnished.

The beauty of the Super Bowl, unlike – say -- the seventh game of the World Series (which has nothing to do with most of the “world”) is that it can be anticipated. It’s usually the last Sunday in January or the first one in February. Even more, what with the calculated parity in the National Football League, you’re more likely to have to pick your favorite between two “underdogs” since neither squad is likely to have been in last year’s game. True, the New England Patriots have been pretty persistent winners and the Pittsburgh Steelers have, after this year, won more Super Bowls (six) than any other team. There’s still a feeling on the part of most observers that, tough as it is to reach the big game, the monetary factor is less prominent in football than it is in most professional sports.

The real essence of Super Bowl Sunday, as I said before, is that it’s more than an event. It’s a genuine American holiday. Yet, due to our cultural mores, American enterprise doesn’t have to confront Labor’s demand for a day off or for time and a half for those who must work on that day. True, Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest for those who observe the Sabbath that day, but everybody knows that football players aren’t working; they’re playing. After all, you and I wouldn’t sit around eating, drinking, smoking (and who knows what else) if we thought those guys we were watching were working for all that money – money even the loser will make. Of course, every man on that field faces severe bodily injury on every play. Every ounce of mental, emotional, and physical effort is put forth to prevail, but it’s all purely recreational. Every red-blooded American knows that.

If you are a native of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania or Phoenix, Arizona, the game’s outcome surely had special meaning for you. At Peter’s house, Tony was the only Steeler’s rooter, but the game, although compelling, was almost secondary. Chip and dip, cheese and crackers, beer and soft drink, and the rest of the nutritionally well-balanced menu were just as important.

Actually, what really mattered was what Peter, Diane, Tony, and Frank – and I -- thought, felt and discussed on a multitude of topics ranging from the recent Inauguration and early administration activities of President Obama to the latest computer accessibility technology.

As I observed at the outset, I’m not much of a football fan, but I’m a huge Super Bowl Sunday fan.

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,

EDWIN COONEY

DID THIS EVER PUSH MY BUTTONS!

By Edwin Cooney

It’s true, due to my limited income, I pay very little income tax, but nevertheless, I do pay taxes.  Even more, I’m “red-blooded American” enough to sympathize with those who work hard and carry a much higher burden of taxation than I.  Yet, there’s a sour aspect in the minds of millions of Americans who, even as they profess their passionate and undying patriotism, seem to resent that they’re expected to pay taxes.

Isn’t it ironic?  We expect soldiers to be proud to sacrifice their bodies and even their lives for America and yet most Americans, even as they acknowledge their plentiful life styles, genuinely resent their status as victims of the Internal Revenue Service.  Have you ever heard someone express pride in being a taxpayer? 

Still, it’s wise to keep an eye on the tax “person”. (Remember when it was tax man?)  After all, if fire must be controlled, certainly the tax collector must be on a very short leash. 

Last Thursday, I received the following from one of my readers.  The subject is the over- taxed citizen.  The first part of it, a poem, is quite delightful.  The second part, the history lesson, really pushed my buttons.  Here’s the enjoyable portion:

At first I thought this was funny...then I realized the awful truth of it.

Be sure to read all the way to the end!

Tax his land,

Tax his bed,

Tax the table

At which he's fed.

Tax his tractor,

Tax his mule,

Teach him taxes

Are the rule. 

Tax his cow,

Tax his goat,

Tax his pants,

Tax his coat.

Tax his ties,

Tax his shirt,

Tax his work,

Tax his dirt.

Tax his tobacco,

Tax his drink,

Tax him if he

Tries to think. 

Tax his cigars,

Tax his beers,

If he cries, then

Tax his tears.

Tax his car,

Tax his gas,

Find other ways

To tax his ass 

Tax all he has

Then let him know

That you won't be done

Till he has no dough.

When he screams and hollers,

Then tax him some more,

Tax him till

He's good and sore. 

Then tax his coffin,

Tax his grave,

Tax the sod in

Which he's laid. 

Put these words

upon his tomb,

"Taxes drove me

to my doom." 

When he's gone,

Do not relax,

It's time to apply

The inheritance tax.

Next, under “accounts receivable”, the author lists every conceivable tax Americans are burdened with these days.  Okay!  Fair enough!  However, then we get the history lesson: 

STILL THINK THIS IS FUNNY?

Not one of these taxes existed 100 years ago,

and our nation was the most prosperous in the world.

We had absolutely no national debt, had the largest middle class in

the world, and Mom stayed home to raise the kids.

 

What the hell happened? Can you spell "politician"?

And I still have to "press 1" for English.

As asserted above, the first part is both clever and delightful because one can readily identify with it.  However, this piece’s characterizations and implications are both misleading and political. 

I’ll say it in a nutshell:  anyone who tells you that things were better in America a hundred years ago isn’t being straight with you.  We were the envy of the people of Europe, but the kings and princes of the “old world” were no friends of American democracy.  Keep in mind that the heroes of childhood fairy tales weren’t constituent assembly speakers.  Sleeping Beauty was kissed and awakened by a handsome prince, not by a merchant.  Cinderella wasn’t sought by a Rockefeller or a Morgan; she too went to live in a palace.

Sure we’ve paid for government services, but the public demanded these services because the pioneers of private enterprise refused to police themselves.  People wearied of getting sick when they were sold rotten meat and carelessly concocted pharmaceuticals. In the wake of the Great Depression, people had a bellyful of being victimized by ruthless brokers and bankers who wisely invested their own money but carelessly speculated with their clients’ funds. One hundred years ago, homeowners could have their loans called at the mere whim of a banker.  One hundred years ago, many mines and factories were deliberately kept unsafe for workers as a money saving device.

The worse part of this appeal for tax equity is who is being blamed for our current level of taxation.  The author apparently wants you to believe that representatives of the poor and minorities (specifically immigrants) or the workers are the only “politicians”. This isn’t a diatribe against corporate welfare, but rather one against human welfare.  It appears from reading this piece that we’re not at all in debt due to wasteful spending on war or corporate greed. 

Finally, the author of this piece seems to want you to believe that “politicians” don’t represent really productive Americans.  The author of this piece has apparently never read biographies of Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, or even Abraham Lincoln. 

Oh, and by the way, 100 years ago we weren’t in debt, but Americans could look back on five national depressions—1819, 1837, 1857, 1873 and 1893—and the really big Depression was yet to come. 

We all might be better off if we were proud rather than victimized taxpayers.  After all, we expect our soldiers to be proud, do we not?

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED, 

EDWIN COONEY