Thursday, September 29, 2011

The McCollumn - 9/30: "Another local linguistic discovery: the perfect political non-answer


The nature of my job as news editor here affords me many opportunities to go out and cover all sorts of events.
Schools, public meetings, even gospel explosions could be on my docket at any given moment.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say political events are my favorite events to cover, but they certainly provide their fair share of entertainment, if you allow yourself to truly observe what is going on.
At a recent local political meeting, I listened as a party member asked a state senate staffer if his boss could support a hypothetical bill being discussed by the group’s members.
The aide paused briefly, seeming to need to gather his thoughts, but immediately launched into a roughly minute-and-a-half solioquy to answer the question.
He began with a phrase that immediately gave me pause: “Well, thank you for that question...”
I knew that opener.
I’ve heard it many times before.
I didn’t want to jinx the experience, but I began to listen as the aide’s intro expanded into what I believed to be one of my favorite dialogue subgroups: the political non-answer.
While the political non-answer is usually practiced most and best by elected officials, trusted advisers have also learned to climb to the vague, dilluted positional points their political masters have staked out.
The catalyst for the appearance of the political non-answer usually requires only one thing: a question whose answer requires a firm, unwavering position.
Senate Staffer started his response by thanking the questioner for two likely reasons:
a) Because Senate Staffer was there to observe, not be a part of the meeting, he didn’t expect to be put on the spot. The “thank you” was insincere.
b) All political non-answers start with a “Thank you” for the question. I honestly don’t know why; it’s just one of those things that just is.
Senate Staffer then launched into a several sentence avalanche where he articulated that while he “could not” speak for his boss, he was “sure” that his boss “could support something like that idea if it came to the Senate.”
The word “could” is a highly useful tool in the politician’s arsenal.
Lots of things “could” happen.
The Earth could suddenly stop rotating on its axis.
Arianna Huffington could fall in love with and marry Sean Hannity.
I could choose to change the slightly ridiculous picture that accompanies this column.
All of those things could happen, but probably won’t.
Hypothetical legislation is easy to take a stance on because it could never actually come to be.
However, firm stances on any issue, hypothetical or not, are anathema to the modern politician, hence the “could” cop.
Senate Staffer continued by mentioning other legislative victories that the questioner might enjoy (otherwise known as “pivoting,” moving to an issue area where Candidate is stronger).
The audience still remained unconvinced, so Staffer went for the political nuclear option with his non-answer: the Ultimate Obfuscation.
A series of rapid-fire sentences began to leave his mouth, referencing various party leaders old and new and their commitment to listening to the voters.
Staffer offerred his personal concerns about the issue, saying his boss was aware of the situation and was “constantly aware” of the goings-on.
Then, the kicker, the line that got the questioner nodding as if his question had actually been answered:
“I can assure to you that there is at least a hint of hesitation on the part of the senator...”
“Hint of hesitiation” means my boss probably doesn’t care about your idea, plan or issue, but Staffer can’t tell you that.
“Hint of hesitation” lets you know the political figure will probably be against it, or at least he will be when talking to this group of voters.
“Hint of hesitation” gives him wiggle-room if a party-call vote makes him have a sudden change of heart in the cloakroom pre-vote.
Remarkable phrase, that “hint of hesitation.”
Of course, by the end of his fast-paced, meaningless bit, few of us there could actually remember the original question to call him on it.
I only did because I wrote it down.
Remember that, dear readers, the next time Charlie Candidate comes knocking at the door.
Look for the tell-tale signs of verbal camouflage, and don’t continue to allow yourselves to be hoodwinked.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Opelika Observer Staff Editorial - 9/16: Opelika to bring in more business, jobs



Tuesday’s announcement by the city of Opelika that vitamin manufacturer Pharmavite would be bringing a new manufacturing facility and ultimately up to 400 jobs to the city was just what the doctor ordered — literally, as medical doctor Governor Robert Bentley was on hand to help celebrate the economic development achievement.

Mayor Gary Fuller, state House Speaker Mike Hubbard, the Opelika City Council and numerous other local luminaries were on hand for the event held in City Council chambers Tuesday afternoon.
It was a proud day to be in Opelika; it was a prouder day to live in Opelika.
This announcement further goes to prove what each member of this editorial board has long believed throughout their entire lives: Opelika is a great place to do business.
The Pharmavite investment here marks a new direction for Opelika’s economic infrastructure, one that we hope will help lead us into a better manufacturing future for our town.
For a town built on the economies of the textile mills and the auto industries, we’ve suffered some economic downturn when those industries either began to uproot and look elsewhere for labor or took a hit from a depressed economy.
We’ve still been hurting economically since the Goodrich-Michelin tire plant closing, and this news is just the booster we need.
New industries like this one and Gambro help us achieve much needed employment diversity, providing a variety of jobs to as many workers as we possibly can.
The vitamin and nutritional supplement industry is new to us, but it does not seem to be an industry that is dependent on “normal” economic activity; that is to say that even in these challenging times, this industry is still posting profits and growing.
Opelika should be and is poised to grow with it.
In a society where we are all becoming increasingly health-conscious and getting better about taking care of ourselves, an industry that manufactures the vitamins and supplements we need to live that better life sounds like a good investment on multiple levels.
Kudos go to the hardworking folks in our city’s Economic Development office, current director Lori Huguley and former director Al Cook chiefly among them. These business ambassadors worked dilligently on our behalf and brought home an industry that we hope will continue to be an economic blessing for decades to come.
We also thank the people at Pharmavite for their faith in our town.
You don’t know Opelika yet, but as you grow with us, you’ll learn about us.
The people of Opelika are proud, hard-working individuals and we will rise to the challenge of any industry that wishes to do business within our city.
We hope the Pharmavite announcement is the first of many more coming to our wonderful town.
Things are getting a little bit better out there for us, Opelika.
Let’s turn this corner together and all share in the progress ahead of us.

The McCollumn - 9/16: "Would you like paper, plastic or a chat about ‘the pill’?"




This week, a short scene, based on a real-life experience that occurred this weekend at a local retail outlet in Opelika.

(Stage Setting: Checkout line at your average big box retailer. Local news editor waits in line while lady journalist friend who sold her soul to do public relations stands while Current Cashier is checking out her items. Outgoing Cashier passes by, presumably on her way to clock out to go home for the evening.)

Outgoing Cashier (OC): Done.
Current Cashier (CC): Better go by the pharmacy while you can. Don’t you need to get your pill?
OC: Girl, I’m not on the pill. 
CC: You ain’t on the pill? Why not? (Aside to News Editor and Lady Journalist: “Y’all need anything else tonight?)
(News Editor and Lady Journalist shake heads “no” hastily).
OC: Girl, I just got done being pregnant. I’m good.
CC: Girl, I’m on the shot and still worry.
OC: Really?
CC: Yeah, I’m going to go get that test done when I go in. You know, just to check.
OC: Huh. Well, I’m not worried. We use protections.
CC: Then why are we talking about this!? Go on, girl. Get home.
Current Cashier handles the shopping transaction for Lady Journalist’s credit card purchase.
CC: Thank you. You have a good night.
Fin.
Author’s note: The dramatic recreation crafted above for you was kinder than the actual event. The language may have been a bit much for some of our readers to handle, so we cleaned it up and cut it out. The McCollumn: Shrink-wrapped and sanitized for your protection.
We couldn’t make it out the door before we started laughing. We tried. We didn’t do it at the register, thank the good Lord.
I’m not entirely certain what possessed these two young women to discuss their preferred method of birth control a) in their workplace; b) at a cashier’s stand; c) in a public place; d) with a line of three people behind Lady Journalist and myself; e) spoken loudly enough for multiple lines to hear you.
Unfortunately for them, they were unaware not one, but two overly reflective journalists heard them and immediately began dissecting what we had seen.
We became stumped, however, almost immediately by some of life’s great questions that often come into play in situations like this one:
Who on Earth would do that? Who thinks that sort of thing is okay to do?
We have yet to answer either of those. We will keep you posted on further developments as they occur.
Maybe we were raised differently, but your preferred method of family planning is not a topic for the checkout counter, or most anywhere in public really.
One of the great things about our generation is our ability to speak our minds, to say exactly what we’re thinking and feeling at any time.
We’ve been raised largely to believe that we have an absolute and irrevocable right to freedom of all sorts of speech no matter where we are.
That right, however, is not as absolute as we wish it to be.
Save the conversations about that business for the break room.
And, Outgoing Cashier, Lady Journalist and I would like to be the first to congratulate you on what will more than likely be another child in your home. Here’s cheers, dear.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Opelika Observer Staff Editorial - 9/9: "25 years of exceptionality from Arts Association"


Next week’s performance of Hal Holbrook’s “Mark Twain Tonight!” marks not only a triumphant performance by one of America’s greatest living actors, but a prime example of the remarkable caliber of shows made available to the citizens of East Alabama through the Arts Association of East Alabama.
For 25 years, the Arts Association has brought Broadway-worthy musicals, the world’s finest dancers, symphony orchestras that have entertained the crown heads of Europe and even a few boys’ choirs – the noted Harlem Boys' Choir among them.
Opera divas, stars of stage and screens both large and small – all have tread the boards of the Opelika Center for the Performing Arts, all here to bless us all with their phenomenal gifts.
For a small town in Alabama, we’re doing pretty well.
We should also consider it a blessing that because these shows come for our Arts Association, our children almost always have opportunities to experience the events for themselves.
Actors and musicians need warmups; kids need to be exposed to culture and fine arts.
It’s a win-win situation.
In current economic times, it’s easy to overlook funding for items that can be seen as trivialities.
Sadly, the arts has always seemed to fall under that category.
It is through the mirror of music, dance and performance that we occasionally discover truths about ourselves.
We go to performances not just for the cultural cache of having seen this orchestra or that performer.
We go to have that performance, that offering from those players, speak to us, to have it resonate with something within ourselves.
Good art, the art provided continually by the Arts Association, should speak to us in such a fashion.
We may go to be entertained, to take a break from the worries and troubles of life for a short while and find a world devoid of problems that can be easily solved with a plucky attitude and few well-rehearsed musical numbers.
But, we eventually find some small way to learn something about ourselves, or we should hope to at least.
We hope to see a number of you present for the kickoff of the association’s season on Thursday. We’re trying to find tickets.
Here’s to the 25 exceptional years you have given us and to many more.

The McCollumn - 9/9: "Finally, some decent Joni Mitchell weather"



Sixty degrees, right on the line, or so says the old Gulf thermometer clinging desperately to the iron rod on the back porch.
“Sitting in a park in Paris, France. Reading the news and it sure looks bad. They won’t give peace a chance; that was just a dream some of us had. Still a lot of lands to see, but I wouldn’t want to stay here. It’s too old and cold and settled in its ways here.”
A sky filled with giant grey clouds blocking out the sun, so impenetrable that you know the sun still exists, but you aren’t sure if you’ll see it for a while. Maybe it went on vacation. Just left the lights on for you, making you think it’s still there.
“On the back of a cartoon coaster, in the blue TV screen light, I drew a map of Canada. Oh, Canada. With your face sketched on it twice...”
A slight drizzle of rain hits the old tin roof, providing that beautiful sort of pitter-patter that only seems to exist in pastoral settings like our small, Southern town.
“But it don’t snow here. It stays pretty green. I’m going to make a lot of money, then I’m going to quit this crazy scene. Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on.”
The way we hear songs can vary based on any of an immeasurable amount of variables.
Some songs always seem to sound better while in a moving vehicle (Gary Numan’s 1979-one hit wonder cars, the Sanford and Son theme and Aretha Franklin’s “Rock Steady” would seem to fall into this category).
Some songs should only be played in the confines of a major sporting event (Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll, Part 2”; John Fogarty’s “Centerfield”; Kernkraft 400’s “Zombie Nation”).
I submit to you, dear readers, that Joni Mitchell’s seminal “Blue” album can only be best enjoyed while being listened to outside on a cool temperature, overcast, slightly drizzly day.
Hear me out on this.
The Appalachian dulcimer played by Mitchell on a number of the tracks goes hauntingly well with cold and overcast, providing warmth and fullness to lyrics that paint a more desolate scene and to a day that might lack literal warmth.
The theme running throughout “Blue” is the life of a romantic relationship, the ups and downs of coupledom from infatuation to utter heartbreak.
I don’t know about you, but rainy days seem to bring out the sort of melancholy that makes one think about such things.
Perhaps I’ve just been successfully programmed by prolonged television and movie viewings or suffer from an iPod addiction, but such thoughts require a soundtrack.
Either silence is too much to bear and we need that distraction to save us from ourselves or the humdrum noises of the day-to-day goings-on just aren’t cutting it any more.
“Blue” was Joni before the vocal problems, the high-pitched angel with the voice to prove it. No raspy low warbles, no painful notes no longer supported by good breathing and reliable lungs.
“Blue” is not just the titular song, but Mitchell favorites like “California,” “A Case of You,” and the McCollum-approved non-Christmas Christmas song “River.”
“Blue” is fall, every year to me.
It brings with it the sense of renewal and hope most people get from the flowers that bloom in the spring. Tra la.
Take the time to brew yourself a cup of tea, grab a blanket and head to the back porch, folks.
And don’t forget to bring Joni with you.
You’ll thank me later.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Opelika Observer Staff Editorial - 9/2: "10 years after 9/11 - how have we changed?"


This week, each of us took time to reflect on the impact and legacy of the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks against this country, asking ourselves where we were as a nation and where we are now, 10 years after that horrible tragedy.
We all remember being shocked by the events – as all Americans no doubt were.
We initially wrapped ourselves in patriotism and the love of our country, security blankets in a time when security was no longer certain.
Phrases like “We will hunt down the people who did this to us,” “We will make them pay,” and “We will have vengeance,” were commonplace in the mouths of politicians, journalists and citizens alike.
Wars were started, men and women in uniform were deployed to defend America’s freedoms as they always have.
Laws were passed, giving law enforcement agencies extraordinary powers to conduct their investigations, powers that had previously been deemed a vast invasion of personal privacy.
Security trumped liberty. It almost seemed like it had to at the time.
Franklin Roosevelt told this country after the attacks on Pearl Harbor that “The only thing we had to fear was fear itself.”
After the 9/11 attacks, it seemed we were supposed to be afraid.
Fear was color-coded for us, made a part of our daily lives in the form of the Department of Homeland Security’s daily “Terror Alert” statuses.
We were at war with “terror,” but how do we declare war on an abstract noun and expect to win?
What is terror, but a “state of intense fear”?
We fought fear with more fear, and yet somehow expected to win.
Now, we find ourselves with a nation whose coffers are virtually empty and whose military might is stretched thin.
We can no longer afford nor tolerate to be the world’s policemen, though our expected place in the world would seem to signify we must.
The wars undertaken in the name of “securing freedom” continue onward, even though the goalposts have changed. “Routing out terror wherever it lives” became “liberation of oppressed people” and “nation-building.”
We must remember those wise words of one of our most famous founding fathers, Dr. Benjamin Franklin: “They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”
Patriotism and pride are wonderful things, but they can be used to conceal sometimes dubious intents taken by our government.
To truly help our country, we must continue to fight terror here at home, by fighting those who would use fear and the tactics of fear to scare us into giving up our essential American freedoms.
We must give up the anger, cynicism and divisiveness that continues to eat at the core of this country, replacing it with the pride, unity and kindness we saw in our fellow Americans following 9/11.
We must be the America we’re supposed to be, that “shining city on a hill” Ronald Reagan evoked.
We’re not that America now, and we haven’t been since the first few months after 9/11.
We worry that it may soon be too late to ever be that America again.

The McCollumn - 9/2: "Zach Galifianakis, substitute teacher"


“My kids came into class saying, “Have you been to Dr. Hannah’s class today? Alan from ‘The Hangover’ is the sub!”
“I thought you were here today. My students told me Zach Galifianakis was substitute teaching today.”
These were just a few of the barrage of quotes to wash over me Tuesday when I subbed for a class at Opelika High School.
For some reason, children ages 8 to 18 think I bear some sort of resemblence to actor Zach Galifianakis, best known for his role as Allen in ‘The Hangover’ film series.
While subbing at Opelika Middle School this spring, I had a few students actually come up and ask for an autograph.
Not wanting to crush their spirits, I signed their torn off sheets of sprial notebook paper, thanking them for being fans of “my” work.
“Why are you subbing here in Opelika?” one of the children asked.
Fair question, I thought.
“I’m rehearsing a new role for a movie. I’m gonna play a middle school English teacher, and I wanted to see what real English teachers do. This teacher was just a friend of mine and let me take her class for a day.”
The kids seemed to buy the explanation and trotted off back to their class.
I, on the other hand, began to seriously worry about the state of education in this country.
Perhaps it’s my own fault.
Being white, slightly portly and making the choice to grow a beard means that I will always suffer the indignity of being compared to other stout, white, bearded men: Galifianakis, Jack Black, President Benjamin Harrison and later-years Orson Welles (the only celebrity I’ll actually agree to looking anything like).
It’s a type of discrimination often faced by people like me.
Yes, I may look like some famous comedian, but please don’t expect me to spend my day entertaining you and making you laugh.
As a substitute teacher, it’s usually my job to make sure that worksheets are passed out, worked on and turned back in by the class’s end, hopefully with the smallest degree of backtalk and sass possible from my young charges.
I can put up with the crap middle and high school kids are able to inflict on substitutes.
I’ve not yet met the child I can’t deflate with a snarky comment and a little public ridicule.
What bothers me is that children think it’s somehow okay to treat an adult, even one in their lives in a fleeting, temporary way, with such disresepct and disregard.
We may have joked with Mr. Benham, the subsititute always chosen for band classes, by changing instruments, but he got in on the gag by trying to make people play their newly-acquired instruments.
Now, kids are almost expected to be troublemakers.
Subs are taught to go in with their shield first, being overly mean and authoritarian in a hope to scare their young pupils into submission. This method seldom, if ever, works.
What can be done to get kids to respect their temporary teachers?
Save bringing back paddling, I honestly don’t know. There’s something to be said for the threat of a giant wooden paddle.
No, this week, I don’t have the answer, or won’t even pretend to, using lofty adjectives and incomprehensible adverbs to muddle my message and pray you won’t notice.
All I have to say is this:
Kids, even if Zach Galifiankis was some sort of crazy method actor who needed to live for a while as an English teacher to “get into” a role, he wouldn’t come to Opelika, Alabama, to teach at your middle school.
I hate to be the one to have to tell you guys that, but, apparently, no one else will.
Grow up, get your head on right and pull your damn pants up.