Lunch Time Time Waster

Call me a sap, but I loved this review of the Olympics. If you want one last feeling of that strangely moving spirit inspired by sports you care about only once every four years, check it out.

How Many Houses Do You Own?

I have to hand it to John McCain -- he's been running effective negative ads. The Republicans have done a poor job of governing, but they sure know how to pick a negative campaign theme and stick with it, day after day.

But now McCain has made a gaffe that opens him up to some negative shots from the other side, and Barack Obama is taking advantage. McCain was asked how many houses he and his wife own, and didn't know the answer. He said "I think — I'll have my staff get to you." Apparently the answer is seven. This is just a few days after he said that being rich in America means earning at least $5 million per year.

This seems like a fair thing to go after. With Republicans painting Obama as an out-of-touch elitist, it has to be fair to point out that the real member of the elite in the race is McCain. I think most non-elite American know how many houses they own. Maybe we can ask McCain about cars next. And perhaps we can call in Jeff Foxworthy for some quips:

You might be elite if . . .

* You don't know how many houses you own.

* You think being "rich" means earning more than $5 million per year.

* It takes nine digits to say what your wife is worth.

Hey, I'm not trying to start any class warfare. The Republicans started that already, trying to paint Obama as elite. Let's see who the real elitist is.

Almost Perfect

Michael Phelps didn't break the world record in winning his 100m butterfly race -- not in speed, that is. He may have broken the record for incredible and dramatic finishes, winning by the length of his fingernails as he out-touched his opponent by 1/100 of a second.

But what I want to discuss today is the rendition of our National Anthem chosen for these games, which Phelps and his relay teammates have brought us 7 times now. It sounds easy to choose a recording of a song that's only 90 seconds, but really, rendering the anthem is a minefield of stylistic choices. I don't know who produced the recording that's being used for Beijing, but they did a fine job, with just one questionable choice.

The brassy opening, with the strings added at "whose broad stripes," is just what is wanted for this kind of event -- majestic, imposing, powerful, but not arrogant. It bespeaks confidence and satisfaction in victory, without getting in the face of the international crowd. Slow, rolling, with minimal ornamentation, the music says that we are great and proud and respectful all at once.

Things go somewhat wrong, in my view, as the rendition switches to stringy sentimentality in the "rockets red glare" section. Suddenly, we're all supposed to have tears in our eyes, and a little xylophone trill or some similar ornament added behind the word "air" is particularly sappy, like something out of a Disney movie.

Fortunately, this only lasts 20 seconds or so, less than a quarter of the recording, and then it's a return to majestic full orchestra for a clear run into the ending, at which point there's a surprise -- a three-note highlight on the last word, "brave." Now, ordinarily, I wouldn't like this kind of thing -- I can't abide the octave jump that's become common on the word "free" -- but somehow it works in this setting. It tells everyone that we are Americans, after all, and we have a little showmanship in everything we do.

With cheesiness on one side and excessive jingoism on the other, it isn't easy to play the anthem for the Olypmics. Nice job.

Thank Goodness

Often we bloggers adopt a sarcastic, acerbic, even snarky tone. But sometimes a story is so heartwarming, so charming, so life-affirming, that even the most cyncial blogger can't bear to make fun of it just for the sake of a cheap laugh.

Such a story appears today. It was a sign of the times -- an indication that the mortgage crisis had really hit home -- when we learned a couple of months ago that Ed McMahon, longtime sidekick of Johnny Carson on the Tonight Show, was in danger of losing his house to foreclosure. The eternally charming McMahon explained his problem in a way that made it real for the struggling families of America: “I made a lot of money, but you also can spend a lot of money,” he said. He had defaulted on his $4.8 million mortgage and listed his six-bedroom, five-bathroom home for $6.5 million, but couldn't find a buyer. He was in real danger of losing his house.

Well, now The Donald has stepped in to save him. Yes, Donald Trump will buy McMahon's house (now listed at a mere $4.6 million) and lease it to him.

Just imagine. I mean, really, what is America coming to when celebrities are in danger of losing their $6.5 million homes. Seriously, is America so debased that Ed McMahon -- Ed McMahon! -- could have been forced to move out of his $6.5 million dollar home and go rough it in, who knows, maybe a $3 million home, or even have to go slumming in some $2.5 million condo somewhere.

It warms the blogger heart to know that there's a brotherhood in celebrity, a fraternity, a network, with bonds that tie celebrities together when times are tough. America has some problems, but Ed McMahon living in a four-bedroom condo is not one of them.

Well, thank goodness. If you're in danger of losing your home to the subprime mortgage crisis, you can, at least, rest easier tonight knowing that Ed McMahon still has his. I know I will. Thank you, Donald Trump.

Hidden War Costs

Condi Rice is really putting the screws to Russia over its invasion of Georgia. She said yesterday that "This is not 1968 and the invasion of Czechoslovakia where Russia can threaten a neighbour, occupy a capital, overthrow a government and get away with it. Things have changed."

Yes, things have changed. Look at what we're doing now that Russia has invaded Georgia. We're talking sternly about it. And we're scowling at them. See us scowl?

I'm sorry, but this is another hidden cost of the war in Iraq. I think that part of the Russian calculation in deciding to invade Georgia was its knowledge that we're not really in a position to respond militarily. We're distracted and overcommitted as it is. We can talk tough, but what are we actually going to do? We can hardly send troops in -- our troops are all busy where they are.

I know that Rice and the administration are going to try to put diplomatic pressure on Russia, threatening them with isolation, being booted out of the G8, and not admitted to the WTO. And good luck, I hope it works. But we'd be in a much stronger position if we had a realistic military option.

Olympic Footnote

And by the way, was anyone else depressed to learn on last night's Olympic broadcast that China has maglev trains that go nearly 300 mph? We have Amtrak.

The whole segment was about tech stuff in China that's cooler than what we have here. We're losing out to China in technological advancement. Tom Friedman is right -- we've lost our edge.

Olympics -- Why Do We Care?

I couldn't help myself this weekend -- I watched some of the Olympics. And it was great.

Why do we care? Do you watch swimming, or cycling, or running, or gymnastics, in non-Olympic years? I didn't think so. There are world championships in these events every year, or every other year, or something like that, but when was the last time you saw the non-Olympic competitions? Do you know who won the gold medal in men's pole vault in Osaka in 2007? (It was Brad Walker of the U.S.). Can you name the winner of any of the events? Do you remotely care? I certainly don't.

And yet, whenever the Olympics come round, I am strangely drawn to them. I don't know if it's the pagentry, or the politics, the nationalistic competition, or the judging scandals, or what, but somehow I suddenly care who can swim faster, jump higher, or dive more beautifully. I am awed by Michael Phelps, entranced by Kirsty Coventry. Bring it on, NBC, I love it.