Conventions aren't what they were

I miss the old days.

I watched snippets of the Republican and Democratic conventions the past couple of weeks. Let's face it: Neither convention was very exciting. In fact, in this age of primaries that settle the nominating process long before the convention convenes — delegates are obligated to a candidate by the primary rules, leaving no room for the wheelin' and dealin' that characterized conventions in the old days.

And both parties have become so cognizant of the impact of convention themes and presentations on voters, that they carefully script every minute of the conventions, intent upon putting on a good show for the electorate rather than settling intra-party disputes or establishing a strategic vision for the country. So what we have is a dog-and-pony show (or maybe an elephant-and-donkey show) designed to inspire the faithful and attract the undecided.

Conventions weren't always this way. Presidential nominations used to be decided after multiple ballots, with negotiating and swapping going on between ballots. The first convention I remember watching was the 1960 Democratic Convention. John F. Kennedy came to the convention with the largest number of delegates but not a majority. It took some trading (Lyndon Johnson became the vice presidential nominee) for JFK to get the first ballot victory.

And no convention has been as exciting or as exasperating as the 1968 Democratic Convention with the protests in the street, the arrest of a reporter on the convention floor and all the rest of the uncertainty about what might be said or done next.

So why are we still having conventions if the nomination is predetermined by the primary results? They are now intended solely to build up public support for the Republicans and Democrats and have no other valid purpose. Why then is Congress giving $4 million in taxpayer funds to each party for holding its convention? Neither the Republican budget cutters nor the Democratic deficit hawks have proposed ending this waste!

Bill Clinton, masterful orator

Thanks to You Tube, I've just watched Bill Clinton's speech, about 22 hours after the event, and I have to say it's one of the most masterful speeches I've ever heard. The former president was extraordinary in multiple ways — his arguments, his timing (including comic timing), his rhetoric, his command of facts, and his ability to excite the partisan crowd. If he'd been passing out Kool-Aid at the end, everyone would have drunk it. He looked better than he had as president. Post-heart problems, he's lost weight, and his face is leaner and smoother; I'd almost bet he's had plastic surgery or some fancy facials.

Clinton, who is probably the best American politician (i.e., campaigner, negotiator, deal maker) of the last 30 years, maybe 50 years (which would rank him ahead of Lyndon Johnson and Ronald Reagan, two very different masters in their own right), hit all his marks in Wednesday night's nominating speech. He was droll; he was funny; he was philosophical; he was inspiring. He offered an encyclopedic memory for facts and numbers (mostly all true or mostly so, the fact-checkers have said), and he had the delegates leaping to their feet and shouting for more.

I've always contended that the great speeches of my lifetime were Kennedy's inaugural address, Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech, Kennedy's Berlin Wall speech, and Reagan's Pointe du Hoc speech commemorating D-Day. I have to consider Clinton's speech Wednesday night on the same plane as these others. In effectiveness — getting the audience fired up — Clinton may have exceeded them all except King. Clinton's speech was long, about 50 minutes, compared to Kennedy's five minutes at the Berlin Wall, and that was always Clinton's weakness. He would drone on for an hour for a State of the Union address, but at the convention this week, he kept your attention, and the 50 minutes passed quickly.

Obama fans proclaim him as a great orator, and he's had his moments of greatness, but Clinton, his senior by a few years, took him to school on rhetoric and argument and holding the audience in the palm of your hand Wednesday night.

Persistence in blogging

I've never made any money from writing a blog (it still amazes me that some people do!), and I've attracted only a few "followers," but I felt a bit of encouragement recently when I checked on the blogs I had been following. With the exception of what you might call "national" blogs affiliated with major websites, none of the blogs I had been following were active. The last post for one was nearly a year ago, for another, several years ago. None of the blogs had a post less than several months old.

When I spoke at a blogging conference arranged by the N.C. Press Association several years ago, I said that the most important thing about a blog is consistency — blog every day so that your readers will always have something new to read or look at. I've fallen behind on my daily blogging, but I've rarely gone a week without a post or two. I'm keeping it going, though I often wonder why after looking at my dismal page views statistics!

I'm still blogging. Whether anyone is reading may be another matter. It seems likely that Twitter has taken the place of blogs for many people. I started this blog before Twitter heard its first tweet, and my writing habit just won't let me stop now. I've outlasted at least some of my competition.

Romney gains lead in North Carolina

Labor Day marks the traditional start of the presidential election campaign. The Republicans have departed Tampa, and the Democrats are arriving in Charlotte, so the campaign is about to shift into high gear.

A headline in today's News & Observer notes that Republican Mitt Romney has received a boost from his party's convention (although you have to wonder what kind of boost there was in Clint Eastwood's rambling, disjointed monologue and Chris Christie's "look at me, me, me" speech) and now leads President Obama in North Carolina polling.

This new poll affirms the feeling I've had for months that Obama would not be able to duplicate his showing in North Carolina. His 2008 victory was an aberration, not a new trend. Obama put extraordinary resources into North Carolina and ran a brilliant grassroots campaign to cinch the state's 15 electoral votes, but things have changed since 2008. The Obama excitement ("Yes, we can!") is missing this year, and some N.C. voters are suffering from buyer's remorse. In 2008, Obama was able to overcome North Carolina's 32-year history of going Republican in the presidential race, regardless of how the rest of the ticket went, but it will be harder this year.

Here's my bold prediction (and I've seen enough political races to know not to do this, especially this early in the campaign): Romney will win North Carolina's electoral votes on Nov. 6. This prediction is based more on a feeling, a reading of the electorate, than on any scientific analysis. It just looks harder for Obama to win than it does for Romney.

I've said before that the 2012 race reminds me of the 1980 race — an incumbent Democrat presiding over a faltering economy amid popular anguish — but Obama is no Jimmy Carter, and Romney is no Ronald Reagan. So I'm not willing to stick my neck out and predict a national winner. I think the race is a toss-up that will be decided in the next 60 days. But if Obama is to win, I think he'll have to find the 270 electoral votes needed without counting North Carolina's.

A sermon for an election year

Today, our pastor was on vacation, and I was asked to provide a sermon, or at least a message. This is what I came up with, based on the Standard Lectionary for the day:

Sermon for Sept. 2, 2012

14^th Sunday after Pentecost

            When I first took a look at today’s Scriptures, my reaction was: What appropriate lessons these are for an election year!

            This 14^th Sunday after Pentecost is also Labor Day Weekend Sunday, the final holiday of the summer, the demarcation point between summer and autumn, and the official beginning of the 2012 presidential campaign, which has actually been well under way for nearly four years. One party held its convention in Tampa last week, and the other party will hold its convention in Charlotte this week. What an apropos time this is for today’s lessons about rules and laws and customs and governance.

            We begin in Deuteronomy. In verse 5, which immediately precedes today’s lesson, Moses tells the Israelites, “I now teach you statutes and ordinances for you to observe in the land that you are about to enter and occupy.” “Statutes and ordinances” are the stuff of legislatures and governance. Moses warns that Israel “must observe them diligently, for this will show your wisdom and discernment to the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and discerning people.’” Surely a great nation needs wise and discerning people today, when our leaders are chosen by popular vote, unlike the monarchies and judges of the Old Testament. Moses further tells them to “make them known to your children and your children’s children,” which takes us from governance into childrearing — but can childrearing and governance ever be entirely separated?

            The writer of James, who is believed by some to be the brother of Jesus, is most often remembered for his defense of good works, writing, “So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” It is little wonder, then that Martin Luther, who proclaimed “Sole Gracia, Sole Fide, Sole Scriptura” — Grace Alone, Faith Alone, Scripture Alone — had no use for James’ epistle. But James is persuasive in arguing that telling a brother or sister who is naked and hungry to go in peace and rejoice in the Grace of God does not meet that person’s needs. Perhaps the lectionary will tackle those verses in the next few weeks.

            Millard Fuller, the founder of Habitat for Humanity, is a follower of James’ “good works” doctrine. He wrote about what he called “the theology of the hammer.” “Everybody can use the hammer as a manifestation of God’s love,” he said.

            In today’s lesson, James tells us clearly that “Religion that is pure and undefiled … is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” Surely, this definition addresses the current political movement that would eliminate food, shelter, medical care and other basic needs from the responsibilities of society and of society’s fundamental organizational unit, the government. In ancient Israel, orphans and widows were the obvious underclass of society, people who could not care for themselves and who had no family to support them. Today, we would add the physically and mentally handicapped, the unemployed and uneducated. James would tell us that if we do not care for the “least of these” (as Jesus described them), then our religion is not pure.

            I would take this argument no further than this. I do not believe the Bible speaks to specific legislation or laws or court decisions. I cannot tell you with certitude by reading the Bible whether the federal budget should be two trillion or ten trillion or whether the state should build toll roads or light rail. What I can tell you is that government is made of people, and if we the people are not concerned about widows, orphans and others struggling in a world far more complex than it was in first century Israel, then we need to re-examine our religious standards.

            James’ greatest gift to us this Sunday 64 days before a national election might be his admonition to stop yelling at each other. That’s not exactly how he put it. He wrote, “”Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness.” A few verses later, he says, “If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless.”

            Wouldn’t you like to post that on the screen the next time a political ad pops up on the television or the computer screen or a billboard? Anyone who has been on Facebook — and about a billion people are on Facebook — has probably been offended by some political slogan posted by one of their “friends.” Those of my generation on Facebook are there mostly to see pictures of their grandchildren or to catch the latest development in whatever their passion is — the Carolina Panthers or bee keeping or poodle rescue — and not to read political diatribes. So let me suggest that the next time you see one of these partisan political rants on Facebook, don’t get mad, don’t un-friend the perpetrator, simply quote James, “Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. (James 1:19)” I look forward to the day when it’s safe to go back on Facebook again.

            James’ advice is solid. We should all be less vocal and more attentive to others. One of my favorite quotes in the world of journalism is from Anders Gyllenhaal, the former News & Observer editor who is now director of news for McClatchy Corp. He said, “You never learn anything when you’re doing all the talking.” If you follow James’ and Anders’ advice, you might learn something.

            Today’s lectionary becomes complete, as it so often does, in the Gospel lesson. Here, Jesus and his disciples are confronted with what might be described as a political situation. His disciples have been observed eating their food with unclean hands. This is not a Scripture you want to read to small children who have enough excuses for not washing their hands already.

            The Pharisees and Scribes, who might be described as the political power brokers of their day, had seen some disciples eating without washing their hands first, and they confronted Jesus with this violation of law and tradition. But the defiled hands they mentioned had nothing to do with hygiene. These ancients knew nothing of bacteria or viruses; they were cleansing not to avoid spreading disease but to fulfill a rule imposed by religious authorities. So if you want to discreetly squeeze a little hand sanitizer on your hands between the Sharing of the Peace and Communion, that’s OK. Jesus was not talking about that.

            Jesus saw their holier-than-thou attitude for what it was and insisted that cleanliness of hands is no substitute for cleanliness of heart. He cited Isaiah in saying this adherence to cleanliness rules was like honoring God with lips but not heart and teaching “human precepts as doctrine.”

            He then goes on to expound upon the cleanliness rules and dietary rules of ancient Judaism. It is not what goes into a man that defiles him but what comes out. Those who declare that consuming beer or wine will lead to damnation overlook these verses, for Jesus makes it clear that what you consume does not make you evil; it is only what comes from within you that is evil. “For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come,” Jesus said.

            It is unfortunate that in an election year, a lot of evil thoughts are coming from within the politicians who would lead our government, and we have difficulty avoiding the ill will of political campaigns. Mark does not tell us how the Pharisees reacted to Jesus’ correcting of their “politically correct” rules about cleanliness. Perhaps they went away chagrined that what they thought was a lawful rule was completely backward. Mark simply writes that Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre, where, perhaps, he was able to avoid the Pharisees’ questions the way we’d like to avoid politicians’ advertisements, speeches and phone calls.

            Peace to you on this day, in this year and always. Amen.

Jobs at any cost drive chicken deal

The jobs-at-any-cost crowd is celebrating today because Sanderson Farms has followed through on its purchase of land on the Nash-Wilson border to build a monstrous poultry processing plant. Once built, the plant will employ around 1,100 people, but those will be some of the costliest jobs in North Carolina.

Rocky Mount and Nash County officials have salivated over the prospect of these jobs, insisting that a job is a job is a job. What kind of work it involves, how much it pays and what impact it has on the environment and the larger population doesn't matter. Rocky Mount lost hundreds of jobs when PNC Bank bought RBC and gutted the Rocky Mount banking center. But a thousand people killing chickens won't replace a hundred crunching numbers for a bank.

Nash County's determined courting of the nation's fourth largest chicken processor may be the most short-sighted economic development strategy in North Carolina history.

The plant would be built near the intersection of N.C. 58 and N.C. 97 near the Tar River Reservoir, where expensive homes line the shore. Those houses will lose value, and the reservoir's recreational value will decline when chicken processing effluent leaks into the Tar River and the foul odor of eviscerated chickens permeates the air. Sanderson proposes building a six-mile pipeline to a spray field to rid the area around the plant of its waste water. That spray field is in the watershed for Wilson's expanded Buckhorn Reservoir. Thus, the Sanderson plant could damage the water supply of both Rocky Mount and Wilson.

When Rocky Mount ran short of water during a drought a few years ago, Wilson provided water through an emergency pipeline to keep Rocky Mount from running dry. Wilson sold the water at a bargain rate. Do you think Wilson will be so generous when the next drought comes around? Or perhaps both cities will be surviving on bottled water then if chicken entrails pollution has ruined both water supplies.

Wilson County has worked hard in recent years to attract clean, upscale industries. Its emphasis on pharmaceutical plants has paid off. Merck, Sandoz and Purdue are industry leaders, which pay high salaries and attract educated workers — just the opposite of Nash County's kowtowing to slaughterhouses. Wilson County officials logically worry that a chicken slaughterhouse and a threat to the water supply will make Wilson less appealing to pharmaceutical prospects and might even drive away existing companies.

Property owners and the city of Wilson will continue the fight against Sanderson's plans, but their success is doubtful. This saga will not end until the day when area residents, facing water contamination and the loss of quality jobs, turn to Nash County officials and ask, "How could you be so stupid?"

High school years live on

An imminent high school reunion prompted me to call a high school classmate last night and tell him the good news. We had talked perhaps a half dozen or so times in the past 45 years, since we marched out of the school gymnasium and on to different lives. He had called me a week or so ago to ask if I had something he had been searching for.

The good news: My wife found the Class Prophecy in a storage bin in the attic. She brought it down, all yellow with age and growing brittle, its typewriter font looking odd in this word-processing age. But it was intact, a five-page, single-spaced document stapled into a graduation edition of the school newspaper, along with a class history, a class Last Will and Testament and a few other (shall we admit it?) sophomoric writings.

It speaks to the limited foresight of an 18-year-old that the class prophecy is set 20 years after graduation — now 25 years before this year. In it, I imagined a world so far removed from today's reality that I might as well have set it upon some extra-terrestrial colony in some other galaxy. It conjured the popular trends of that long-ago day, of James Bond, fancy cars, and quickly vanished fascinations of 1967. It pains me to read it now.

Next month, I will spend an evening mingling with people whose names I barely remember, and we will speak of old times, nearly forgotten, and try to wedge our present lives into the stiffened molds of our teenage years. Twenty-two of our class of 125 are already gone. Of the remainder, fewer than half will show up for this event. A handful of us have attended each of the five reunions we've held. We gather, renew acquaintances, talk about our current lives and depart. Until the next time.