Shame on you

I’ve been somewhat delinquent in writing to you but things have been a bit difficult for us the last few months.  When I’d see something outrageous on TV or read it in print, I’d think that’s a subject I can get my teeth into.  I’d stare at the computer screen and, like Satchel Paige, I’d wait til the feeling had passed.

Yoram and I were talking the other day about how we both seemed to be weary of world events…wars without end, the dizzying economy and, in particular, the inability of our leaders to work together toward any common good.  My energy had been sapped.  My mind wandering.  My writing at a standstill.  Solitaire an ever-present friend on the glowing tube.

And then I read about Eric Cantor.

Names are important to me.  They tell me something about the person.  In particular, like most Jews,  I parse the name and mentally ask…Is he Jewish?  Boesky,  Milken, Blankfein, Spitzer, Madoff, Weiner.  Their names are a perpetual parade before me.  How can they do this to me?  After all we’ve been through.  When the name is Mazillo, Lay, Dahmer, Nixon, Edwards or Gingrich why don’t I say…look, a Christian…how shameful.  I think…thank God he’s not Jewish.

And now comes Cantor.  The only Jewish Republican in the House of Representatives, and the leader of the Republican majority.  Against stem cell research, a recipient of a perfect score from the National Right to Life Committee and a big zero from NARAL.  Voting against prohibiting job discrimination based on sexual orientation, he also supports making flag burning illegal.  His failing grade from the NAACP accompanies his A rating from the NRA.

Today, putting an abrupt halt to budget negotiations that have so far only produced billions of dollars in expense reductions, Mr. Cantor said that he would not return to the table until Democrats crossed their hearts and promised to stop talking about taxing the rich.  He insists that they continue to focus on enfeebling the poor, dumbing down our kids, and supporting our troops.  Sort of a reverse Tikkun Olam.  His grandparents would be proud.

Compromise is uncompromisable.  My way or the highway.  Debt limit…who cares.  And, he’s probably going to get his way.  He learned from California Republicans.  A small minority that merely sat on their hands, closed their eyes and nyah, nyah, nyah’d their way to getting what they wanted.  If those bozos can do it, a yeshiva bocher should be able to do it without breaking a sweat.

Now if I really believed that Eric didn’t given a damn about the debt limit or the inability to pass even a Rube Goldberg budget, I’d be the one breaking out in a sweat.  No, he’s smarter than that.  He knows the Dems will cave even if it happens just before the carriage turns back into a pumpkin.  No guts no glory.  Sissies.  Pushovers.  Mama’s boys.

As Satchel would say…better to lay down and wait til the feeling passes.