Before I forget it, I want to thank all of you who have signed my Guest Book and made encouraging remarks. To let you know that the compliments have not gone to my head, let me quote one from a San Francisco lawyer, an ex-student of mine, someone who’s been living in Baghdad on the Bay too long.
I haven’t been anywhere, and I’m supposed to sign your Guest Book! The world is getting crazier.
Speaking of a crazy world, Monica Lewinski just opened one of those contest TV shows, this one with about 12 men wearing hideous masks. A glamour girl is to select her favorite on the basis of his personality, not his looks. Here’s my original idea: "The Search for America’s Ugliest Guy." The contenders must not have had plastic surgery or have been the victim of an accident. They must provide snapshots from their early age to the present. Tell me, is that a good idea or a bad one?
Almost as scary as Monica’s mask men are those TV street shots of flocks of people all wearing masks to ward off SARAS. The basic white is simply too bland. So what is my next bright idea? Using red paint or lipstick, decorate the front of mask with garish lips, smiling or frowning. Variations could be added, like a red tongue protruding from the lips. A special award for the most creative masks--the Auntie Sneeze--will be handed out at the Masque of the Red Ball.
If you want my opinion, I think the masks are of questionable value when it comes to offering much protection from the vicious respiratory disease. The epidemic is not a laughing matter, but history is on the side of making people laugh at danger. When the bubonic plague swept across Europe, noblemen would invite guests to their castles, lock the doors to keep the plague at bay and serve lavish meals. Afterward, they would dance the night away... or their lives.
Here’s an idea to put Bush’s tax cut to rest. The wealthiest ten percent who benefit the most from the cut must agree to spend two years in Sudan or Nigeria working to end starvation and putting an end to such barbaric practices as female circumcision. They could also volunteer to buy back the looted artifacts and restore the Baghdad museums.By now the destitute looters realize that there’s no profit in displaying artifacts in their donkey sheds.
The Mother of All Ideas
Let’s go a bit more international. The main roadblock to establishing a democratic government in Iraq is the rivalry among the ethnic and religious factions. How would it be possible to find a common Iraqi identity? The common element is – drum roll, please – WOMEN.
In the center of Iraqi homes is the mother-ruler. It’s time these formidable women throw off the black gowns, develop in the Cradle of Civilization a two-party Women’s League, and create a national regime that will keep the peace and stop their beloved sons from blowing themselves up.
The matriarchal society of Egypt ruled for thousands of years. There are signs that the goddess cults had their origins northeast in the Mesopotamia, a region now called Iraq, a natural selection for shifting the balance of power from men back to women. To help the Iraqi women rulers along an advisory commission on democratic procedures and education could be appointed consisting of Margaret Thatcher, Molly Ivins, Hootie Johnson, Elizabeth Dole, and Chelsea Clinton as secretary.
The power-hungry alpha males won’t take a change to a matriarchal society lying down, so the coalition may have to stay on to give the ladies a hand. After the first pilgrimage since 1977, the mostly male Shiite marchers turned on our soldiers and told them to get out of the country. Talk about kicking sand in a benefactor’s face! The hand that could rock the cradle (of civilization) would not have allowed such an ugly display of ungratefulness.
Baghdad on the Bay
The main opposition to the Shiite clerics may come from the poor neighborhoods occupied by Islamic heirs of Ayatollah Mohammad Bakr al-Sadr, who remained in Baghdad and resisted Saddam. Saddam’s henchmen executed the Ayatollah by driving nails through his head.
Before Saddam, there was much to admire about Baghdad and its highly cultivated and educated elites. One of the chief American admirers was the late Herb Caen, San Francisco’s most famous columnist, who often referred to his city as "Baghdad by the Bay." From l938 until shortly before his death in 1997, his devoted SF readers observed the morning ritual of having their first cup of coffee with Herb’s witty column.
I asked Kelly Vance, a former student and now the most erudite movie critic on the West Coast, if he remembered why Herb called SF Baghdad? "Presumably because of San Francisco’s perceived decadence, comparable in the public imagination of the early 20th century to the licentiousness of exotic fleshpots like those supposedly in Baghdad. It doesn’t pan out in reality--Islamic societies would never allow topless/bottomless dancers, peace marches, gay/lesbian parades, or many of the other things SF is noted for. These days, I suppose Bangkok by the Bay would be more appropriate."
Golly gee, why do I stay stuck in Small Town with all these exciting activities going on? Final idea: Pack my bags (dad). And don’t forget my surgical masks. I’m out of here.
