WCSAGD Regional Edition - OBX Dave Gets His

OBX Dave never got his own WCSAGD, largely because I don't know enough about him to pick something right on the nose.  I have ideas given his life at the beach, but I don't want to screw up something so important.

I can, however, find him a regional, attainable car.  Thank god for Al Gore and the internet.

Much like Joe Biden and TR, I love Corvettes and I've written about them multiple times.  OBX Dave is an American man living in the southeast so he probably likes Corvettes too.  Lucky for him, there's a 1987 Corvette convertible for sale in Moyock.  Unfortunately for him, the owner had it painted with Line X and added a bunch of Batman logos to it.

For the uninitiated, Line X is stuff you use to paint the bed of your pickup truck to keep it from getting damaged when stuff bounces around in there.  I have never, ever, seen it used to paint anything else, let alone a sports car.  But I guess it's a cheap alternative to matte paint and it's likely plentiful in the OBX--I dredged this up from Craigslist because all of the local car dealers only have pickups in stock.  Anyway, the C4 is a fantastic car with clean lines, 240 horsepower, 345 (!) pound-feet of torque, and plentiful parts.  If you can chisel the Line X, remove the Batman stuff, and replace the wheel spikes with proper lug nuts you'll have a gem of a beach car (fiberglass won't rust in salty air).

Before you chisel off the Line X, chisel the seller down by telling him it will cost you $10k to straighten this thing out and no one wants it in this condition so he won't do any better than your $5k offer.  I suspect the seller is a salty dog, and an old one at that, given his statement "No Texting or emails will be answered. A good old fashioned telephone call with a real human on the other end will be the first to buy this when they see and drive it."

Maybe this is a little too Mad Max for OBX Dave.  No problem!  Here's a 1964 Triumph Spitfire in Moyock!  Moyock hooks you up!  

Perhaps I should have used quotation marks around 1964 Triumph Spitfire though, here's a quote from the listing:

The tub is in great condition. The floors were replaced. No rust. Nice interior. All gauges work. Paint is old with scratches and dents. Engine and trans are from a 1975 Spitfire. Differential is from a a GT6 with 3.27 gears so cruising on the highway is comfortable. 70 mph at 3400 RPM. Weber 32/36 carb and manifold with a powermaster tubular exhaust manifold. GT6 front springs cut down to lower suspension. Heavy duty sway bar. Wire wheels with good tires. NOS soft top that fits well.

Mr. KQ, Marls, and anyone else who's been around an old British car knows the first few statements smell fishy.  The tub is in great condition?  No rust?  Impossible--I suspect that's why the floors were replaced and there's more rust lurking somewhere.  All gauges work?  Also impossible--the gauges probably didn't work when new, let along 60 years later.  And that last line?  A new old stock top that fits well?  Again, the new new stock top didn't fit 60 years ago.

It only gets better with important components like the entire powertrain coming from at least two other cars and a front suspension "cut down" from a donor car.  Luckily it has that heavy duty sway bar though.  

But it's green over tan and I'm a sucker for that.  And it's British, and the hood hinges forward, and it has antique plates and wire wheels, and the way the line of the door dips down right before the hips jag up ... what's not to love?  You can definitely take it to the beach in this car, just make sure you have Uber on your phone and a AAA membership.

Fine, fine, you're saying "c'mon zman, you can do better than this!"  I can.  This 1997 Porsche Boxster is for sale in Nags Head for $8,900.  The seller had the IMS bearing replaced so OBX Dave can drive it forever, worry-free.  That work cost about $2k by itself, just ask to see the receipt to be sure it was done.  Have your local service station do a pre-purchase inspection (that's maybe $50-$75) so you can get it on a lift and see what's going on underneath, and/or ask to talk to the guy who's been doing the work on it recently to verify it isn't a time bomb.  I would totally take a punt on this 986 if I lived locally.

So there you go, OBX Dave.  Let me know which convertible you wind up with.

Wrenball: The Hemorrhage

In which an actual professional journalist goes slumming on our beat and finds common cause.

At least they aren’t LSU. That’s about the most charitable assessment of William and Mary’s men’s basketball. After one of the most dismal seasons in program history, the Tribe has seen six players enter the transfer portal, severely testing the notion that “at least it can’t get any worse.”

Four of the top six scorers are gone, including 2021 CAA Rookie of the Year Connor Kochera, and those four played at least 24 minutes per game. A fifth logged 15 minutes a game. Two freshmen and two sophomores are among the departing, so a chunk of what appeared to be the future is out the door. Granted, it’s not as jarring as LSU losing 11 players to the portal and two more to the NBA Draft since Will Wade was fired, but for a program in the basement of a mid-level conference on a competitive uptick that just added several quality teams, the climb becomes much steeper.

Coach Dane Fischer and AD Brian Mann tried to fit the sow with a ball gown in a piece in the Newport News (Va.) Daily Press, my old rag. Mann said, “I still think that Coach Fischer is the right guy for the program and he’s got my full support. What I’m learning about this and hearing about this is that this is not a program in trouble. It’s not about a bad culture. It’s not about a poor student-athlete experience. (The transferring players) are making their own individual decisions. I think Dane has created and built a really strong culture and he cares deeply about our student-athletes. That means a lot to me.”

Fischer said, “The transfer portal is the new reality of college basketball,” and that he views the portal as a means to rebuild the roster. He said that he’s jazzed about the returning players and three incoming recruits. Because what else is he gonna say?

Fischer is correct about the transfer portal as the new reality. Players are emboldened by the new rule that permits immediate eligibility after a first transfer, without sitting out a year. More than 1,000 players have entered the portal so far this spring, which means there’s plenty of options for teams to fill gaps and rebuild. But how many are interested in a program that just finished 5-27, even with ample minutes available? More important, how many qualify and would be a good fit in one of Division I’s more strenuous academic environments? How deftly can Fischer and his staff navigate the new normal?

The jury’s still out on whether Fischer can coach. By all accounts, he’s a quality, likeable chap. He inherited an NBA-level talent in Nathan Knight and the remnants of Tony Shaver’s final team in his first season – a team that, as constructed at the time, would have been a conference favorite and still won 21 games. There was predictable regression in Fischer’s second, pandemic-plagued year, and then this season’s face-plant, in which the Tribe won only four games against Division I opponents.

Which leads us to address the griffin in the room. There’s a through line from former AD Samantha Huge’s ego-driven ouster of Shaver in 2019 to W&M’s present predicament. There’s no way of knowing how Shaver would handle the transfer portal and the changing landscape of college hoops, or even if he would still be head coach three years later. Barring illness or catastrophe, it’s a safe bet that he’d still occupy the Big Chair, if only to continue what he built. He developed a system that made Tribe hoops competitive and relevant after years in the wilderness. He brought continuity to the program, critical for sustained success at a place such as William and Mary, which rarely lands top-tier recruits and for which there are no quick fixes. When he was canned, several players and recruits bolted, interrupting the talent and development pipeline. 

Fischer hasn’t picked up the mantel. Not to say he won’t or is incapable, but his and every head coach’s job is more difficult than just two years ago. Coaches must retain as well as recruit, that is re-recruit their own players, and keep one eye on the transfer portal for potential help and to replace departures, in addition to the usual X-ing and O-ing their way past conference rivals. There’s a Wild West component to the portal, as coaches and programs figure it out. Mid-major leagues are suddenly farm systems for Power 5 conferences. A lot of kids who average 17 points per game for a mid-major are convinced that they can play for Michigan State. And there’s certainly tampering, with Power 5 programs reaching out through back-channels to gauge kids’ interest in transferring up. Many P5 programs would rather fill gaps with kids who’ve already played a year or two of college ball than with a high school recruit. On the flip side, a lot of players at P5 programs who don’t think they’re getting enough run bolt for what they believe are better opportunities rather than persevere. And in William and Mary’s case, sometimes players are just looking for something else, whether it’s better than 5-27 or being closer to home or simply a different environment. This isn’t an old guy lament. I’m all for players having more freedom and for being able to make money from their abilities. While the degree of roster churn is probably greater than most envisioned, it’s simply another result within a microwave society.

I observed a lot of sludge in Tribe basketball over the past 35 years. Good coaches, smart coaches struggled to gain footing. Success was often fleeting. Backslides were jarring. Shaver came closest to consistent success, and it even took him years to hit upon the right mix of playing style and recruiting to that style. Fischer says, publicly at least, that the transfer portal provides opportunities for the program. Spinning it positively is understandable, since he isn’t in a position to say, “it stinks,” and then turn to a potential transfer and say, “but not for you.” The portal feels like one more hurdle for a program that has plenty already.

Sundays with OBX Dave: A Civil Path Amid Incivility

In which our man at the beach gives Jean-Jacques Rousseau a nickname.

One worrisome aspect of current American society is the gradual ebb of unity and lack of empathy among the citizenry. We can still work up a collective cheer during an Olympiad and a group hug for Ukraine and victims of natural disasters, but for most folks beyond arm’s length – not so much.

Almost two-thirds of Americans (65 percent) think the country is headed in the wrong direction, according to an aggregate of recent polls compiled by RealClear Politics. Only 27 percent think the U.S. is headed in the right direction. The public relations firm Edelman has run an annual “trust barometer” for the past 22 years, surveying tens of thousands of people worldwide. Twenty-six percent said that since the start of the pandemic they’re less trustful of people from other countries, and 22 percent said they’re less trustful of people from other states and regions within their own country. Not asked was how many already were mis-trustful of fer’ners and people outside their circle.

Sixty-four percent said people lack the ability to have constructive and civil debates with others about issues with which they disagree. More than 60 percent think they’re purposely lied to by reporters and the media, government and business leaders. Almost half of respondents said government (48 percent) and media (46 percent) are divisive forces in society. Only 43 percent of respondents expressed trust in American democracy, down five points from last year and 10 points since 2017. Only 40 percent of Americans surveyed think that they and their families will be better off in five years.

Grim as all that sounds, there’s a path forward. It’s not easy, but democracies aren’t potted plants that you can stick in a corner and water now and again. It requires people to hold government and media and business accountable. It means re-establishing trust in our institutions and each other and leaning into our American-ness. Not some tinpot, American Legion, love-it-or-leave-it patriotic litmus test, but a broad, grounded idea such as civil religion – a set of tenets that provides guidelines for being good citizens. 

Civil religion, or at least parts of it, dates to ancient Greece and Rome. Enlightenment-era philosopher and Big Brain Jean-Jacques Rousseau coined the phrase and wrote about it at length in his seminal 1762 work, The Social Contract, whose memorable opening is, “Man is born free, and he is everywhere in chains. Those who think themselves masters of others are indeed greater slaves than they.” For him, civil religion was a way to foster sociability and the embrace of public duties by citizens. The more stakeholders, he figured, the healthier the society. It contained religious underpinnings, as well as the idea that a country’s laws would be administered evenly and fairly, with those who lived honorably happy and those who committed evil punished. It condemned religious intolerance.

Former Harvard and Cal-Berkeley sociologist Robert Bellah conceived of a distinctly American version of civil religion in a 1967 essay. He used John F. Kennedy’s inaugural address as the launch for the notion that Americans have a particular set of ideals, symbols, sacraments and rituals that both distinguish and bind us, often rooted in religion and faith. Liberty, equality, justice and opportunity. Documents such as the Constitution and Declaration of Independence. Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address and Washington’s first inaugural and more recently, MLK’s “I Have A Dream” speech. The Fourth of July and Memorial Day. Free elections and the orderly transfer of power.

JJ and Bellah were under no illusions that it all couldn’t go sideways, depending on who was in power and how ideas were executed. JJ worried that established religions could undercut citizenship and operate independently of societal good. Bellah acknowledged that the country’s history with slavery and race relations and its treatment of Native Americans don’t exactly jibe with routinely invoking God and believing ourselves a Chosen People. He wrote that, “With respect to America’s role in the world, the dangers of distortion are greater and the built-in safeguards of the tradition weaker.”

(Side note: Apologies that this is more dark and dense than what y’all come for to this here digital tree fort. I mean, if you wanted this kind of stuff, you could go to a poli sci lecture at the local community college or tune in to current affairs public radio at 4 a.m. These are ideas and essays that crossed my path, and I have too much free time. I will try to be a better goofball going forward.)

Which brings us to today. We’re divided along numerous lines: economic, ideological, geographic, educational, age. Division and conflict sell, mostly to society’s detriment. If people believe that their voices aren’t heard and their votes are irrelevant, it preserves a minority, moneyed ruling class. Now, if you want to argue that a sprawling, ethnically diverse, multi-cultural nation of 330 million grounded on liberty and a big, fat middle finger to monarchy and divine rule is beyond a cohesive identity, well, that’s a more than fair point. If I’m being honest, there are days when I’m less than optimistic about how it plays out.

But I believe it’s at least worth the effort. We’re better collectively, flaws and all, than fractured and everybody left to themselves like a clothed version of “Survivor.” Otherwise, we’re no longer a nation and more like a loose collection of tribes spread between two oceans. As JJ wrote in The Social Contract: “As soon as any man says of the affairs of the State: what does it matter to me?, the State may be given up for lost.”

Square Gigs, Round Economy

Our legislative affairs correspondent in the Outer Banks weighs in meatily. And since he's subcontracted posting to me because he claims that he's just a simple caveman blogger and doesn't understand this newfangled technology, I believe this post is relevant to my employment status.

A piece of legislation working its way through Congress applies to few of you and is by no means a cinch to pass, so of course I’ll bore you with details.

H.R. 842, the Preserving the Right to Organize (PRO) Act, is labor legislation that aims to bolster the rights of workers to negotiate for higher wages, increased benefits and safer work environments. It was introduced by Rep. Bobby Scott (D-Va.), chair of the Labor and Education Committee and a liberal presence in the House of Representatives for almost 30 years, with beaucoup Dem co-signers.

Hard out here for a pimp in the jig economy

The PRO Act debate lines up predictably on many fronts. Many left-leaning advocates argue that worker rights and benefits have eroded, particularly during the pandemic. They say that workers must be able to organize and unionize without retribution, and that companies should be held accountable for monkeying with those efforts. Conservative critics gripe about union over-reach, added cost to businesses, right-to-work legislation already on the books, and onerous government control.

Except it’s not quite that simple. Among those who could be hurt by the PRO Act are segments of the self-employed, retirees and semi-retirees who do consulting work, freelance writers (raising my hand), and part-time workers. In short, independent contractors who arrange work with various employers. If certain criteria aren’t met, companies could not classify someone as a contract worker and would be required to hire them full-time to comply with the law. In some cases, companies would opt out and work opportunities would simply evaporate. In others, workers would opt out, rather than subject themselves to the constraints of full-time employment.

Austen Bannen, a senior policy analyst for the conservative, Koch brothers-founded Americans for Prosperity, wrote that the PRO Act “would hurt both employers and employees by putting numerous government roadblocks to the flexible work arrangements both are seeking. Instead of being able to work your own way as an independent contractor, the PRO Act could lead to both government and unions dictating the terms of your employment.”

I’m forever skeptical when pro-business mouthpieces yammer about what’s best for workers, since many corporations regard workers as furniture with a pulse. But in this case, there’s at least a kernel of truth. Whether by force or by choice, the gig economy is upon us and expanding.

The PRO Act would introduce a three-prong, ABC test to determine if someone should be classified as an employee and not an independent contractor. According to language within the draft of the bill: “An individual performing any service shall be considered an employee and not an independent contractor, unless,

A) “The individual is free from control and direction in connection with the performance of the service, both under contract for the performance of service and fact;

B) “The service is performed outside the usual course of the business of the employer;

C) “The individual is customarily engaged in an independently established trade, occupation, profession, or business of the same nature as that involved in the service performed.

An independent consultant might pass B) and C), but flunk A) if an employer dictates terms of service. A freelance writer might pass C), but flunk A) and certainly flunk B), since articles are part of the “usual course of business” for publications.

A similar bill passed the House of Representatives last year, but died because the Republican-controlled Senate refused to take it up. Now, with a 50-50 Senate split and VP Harris holding the tiebreaker vote, many think the current bill will at least get a hearing. Several conservative Dems and those whose constituents are less than thrilled with the bill could decide its fate and take Harris out of the equation.

The PRO Act is comparable to one that went into effect in California in 2020. Assembly Bill 5 (AB5), the so-called “gig worker bill,” required companies that use independent contractors to re-classify them as employees, with some exceptions. It was aimed at companies that hire a lot of independent workers, such as Uber, Lyft and DoorDash. However, it also swept up still and video photographers, editors, freelance writers, content contributors and artists.

Griping grew so loud that California amended the bill – twice. One piece of legislation created exemptions for many workers, such as writers and artists. A ballot initiative allowed app-based drivers to remain independent contractors. 

Near as I can tell, most of you have traditional work. Company structure. Set schedule. Salary. Benefits. But as businesses consolidate or downsize staff, more people are thrown out of work and find themselves part of the gig economy. As many of you approach your seventh decade, you may choose to hop off the hamster wheel and peddle your knowledge and expertise part-time or as a freelancer, because you prefer the flexibility or because companies increasingly lean that direction in employment practices.

No telling what the PRO Act will look like after Congresscritters start slicing and dicing. Certainly, workers deserve protection and fair wages (hello, meat packers and supply chainers in a pandemic). But one-size-fits-all legislation that caters to unions in an evolving economy appears unwise. Babies and bath water, and all that.

The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas: Day Four

On the fourth day of Gheorghemas, Big Gheorghe gave to me:

A four-part Japanese life strategy (as told by our man in the OBX)

Three 80's Baseball Sports Looks

Too Many Entries

and a Cameo That Will Go Down in History

When we finally emerge from this Philip K. Dick novel, and daily routines don’t require a checklist of survival measures, it will be nice to tend to more fulfilling, if elusive, pursuits. Such as, ya know, figuring it out.

There’s a Japanese word, “ikigai,” that seems like a good place to start. It’s pronounced “ee-key-guy,” and though there’s no direct English translation, it essentially means finding value and purpose in life, or what gets you out of bed every afternoon. The word comes in two parts: iki is from the verb ikiru, which means “to live” and mostly refers to daily life; gai means “worth or value” and derives from kai, which means shell. Certain shells were of great value among nobles in Japan a millennium ago.

Ikigai encompasses beaucoup elements, from small daily joys to life goals. It can include relationships, work, hobbies, gratitude and engagement. It’s forward looking, so that people might endure a crappy present (looking at you, 2020) in anticipation of a better future. 

Japanese author and neuroscientist Ken Mogi, who has written extensively about ikigai, wrote:

“The greatest secret of the ikigai, ultimately, has to be the acceptance of oneself, no matter what kind of unique features one might happen to be born with. There is no single optimum way to ikigai. Each of us has to seek our own, in the forest of our unique individualities. But don’t forget to have a good laugh while seeking yours — today and every day.”

Sounds a little Gheorghie to me. 

Ikigai was Westernized almost a decade ago, because of course it was, and is sometimes peddled as a secret, magic formula for a long and happy life. Under the Western version, ikigai has four components: what you love; what you’re good at; what the world needs; and what you can be paid for. They’re often illustrated as compass points in a Venn diagram, and ikigai is achieved at the sweet spot in the middle where all four overlap. Not a bad concept, but it oughta be called something else. Some businesses have even co-opted the word as they attempt to create more meaningful work cultures.

From my admittedly incomplete research, ikigai appears broader and more subtle than that. Work can be part of it, but compensation isn’t synonymous with worth and value in this instance. Indeed, psychiatrist Mieko Kimaya, who did pioneering work on ikigai in the 1950s and ‘60s, based some of her conclusions after working with Japanese leprosy patients consigned to sanitoriums and considered societal outcasts. She theorized that there are things that make life worth living – people, experiences, roles, memories, actions – and our feelings toward them. She identified seven types of needs, among them: life satisfaction; personal relationships and acceptance by others; growth and change; freedom; meaning and value. 

Large concepts, to be sure, but there are micro elements, as well. One of Mogi’s five pillars of ikigai is “being in the here and now.” So ikigai may be faith and family and friends and personal growth, but can also include a well-prepared meal or a workout or a stroll along a favorite walking path or writing for a marginally obscure, yet quality blog.

Personally, I’ve experienced more “iki” than “gai” of late, but I’m working on it. Aren’t we all.

Supertankers of Guano, an Exploration of America

I teased this on Twitter yesterday, or at least the turn of phrase that ends the first graf. There's only one Gheorghie that writes like that, and when he's on a roll, best just to follow the advice Boone gave Otter. Kids, I give you our man in the OBX.

As we inch toward a Biden Administration, a handful of folks within the political gasbagerati make the point that one of the new president’s tasks must be to reach out and legitimize his election victory among all people. This idea is, not to put too fine a point on it, a supertanker of guano.

May or may not be guano aboard

There’s a lot of talk about healing and relief and recapturing the soul of America. But if the first three or six months of the next administration become a national couch session or campfire gathering, then Democrats are to politicking what the Washington Snydermen are to footballing. 

Joe Biden won the popular vote by more than five million, at last count. He carried Georgia, which last voted for a Democrat for president in 1992. He won in Arizona, which has voted for a Democrat only once since 1952. He flipped Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin, all of which went Republican in 2016.

By the same token, the current President lost the popular vote by 2.9 million in 2016, yet spent exactly zero time reaching out to the majority and to those states that did not vote for him. Aided by a compliant Senate and, his first two years, a House majority, he spent four years golfing and grifting and embodying many of the worst qualities of human beings in general and Americans in particular. He is a transactional figure who believes that empathy and cooperation are for suckers. He bears responsibility for tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of deaths in a pandemic. He denuded and belittled government agencies. He antagonized allies and rolled over for belly rubs from authoritarians.

This is a big fucking fe

Biden delivered hopeful remarks, about how he’ll work just as hard for those who didn’t vote for him as for those who did, that he’s the president of all Americans and not just those who supported him. To be sure, he’s wired differently than his predecessor and is a product of a more collegial era in national politics, when legislators argued over policy by day and then retired to the Occidental for T-bones and bourbon. His lengthy legislative record includes many cringe-worthy measures and moments, but he appears to be a fundamentally decent fellow who leans toward public service and inclusion.

For those hoping that the election would be a repudiation of Donald Trump, consider that he received almost nine million more votes and a higher percentage of the electorate than he did in 2016. After witnessing him and his policies for four years, almost 72 million people thought him the better choice this time. Granted, many of those voters were motivated by fear and the demonization of Democrats as godless, communist, gun-snatching, tax-raising tree huggers. Still, hard to see the result as total rejection.

Plenty of people look at the stain of systemic racism, the cruelty of immigrant kids in cages, the violent putdown of peaceful protesters and respond with: “That’s not who we are.” Biden himself has said it. He and everyone who say so are wrong. It’s a national bedtime story we tell ourselves, girded by the lofty language of the founders. It’s all precisely who we are. We’re big and complicated and diffuse. We’re generous and welcoming and selfish and mistrustful. We’re tolerant and bigoted and informed and ignorant. We’re ambitious and complacent and hopeful and corrupt. To believe otherwise limits our chance for growth.

Ain't nobody scares the GA GOP more than this lady

Those who have gone down the Fox News and QAnon rabbit holes will never be convinced that Biden and Kamala Harris were legitimately elected, never mind interested in their lives. Biden and Harris and their allies shouldn’t try to convince them. Simply do the work. Explain what they want to do and why. Pass legislation. Send it to the Senate. When Mitch McConnell leaves bills on the shelf to wilt like arugula, call him on it. Publicly. Repeatedly. When his reasoning is, we won’t pass it, then hang it around his neck. If he can be pressured into holding votes, and he and his colleagues reject legislation, hang it around their necks. For four years, we’ve heard from conservatives that “elections have consequences,” which is a nuanced version of, “we won, so suck it.” Works both ways.

And speaking of the Senate, Georgia’s upcoming runoff elections for both seats could tilt the Senate blue (side note: Thanks, Cal Cunningham, for putting libido over service). Democrats’ message to Georgians every day should be: You voted for change and an opportunity for better lives for all Georgians, in health care and pandemic relief and living wages and participation in democracy; Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff will give you those opportunities; David Perdue and Kelly Loeffler question the legitimacy of the election and will oppose such measures at every turn.

The election and accompanying optimism were nice moments, but they were only a start. Regardless of your political leanings, lotta work ahead. Giddyup.

On Intercollegiate Sports

Measured and thoughtful, not generally our stock in trade - so we asked our man in the OBX to weigh in on the burgeoning crisis in intercollegiate athletics. A reckoning is upon us, it seems, and while I think the most likely next phase is a substantial reordering of conference affiliation, there are other alternatives worth considering. To wit:

More than 250 athletic teams have been cut at dozens of colleges since last spring, including a handful at a school with which most of the audience is marginally familiar. It’s a development brought on by increasing costs and worsened by a pandemic that’s further stressed the system.

One man wonders if the reductions, painful as they are for the principals and their communities, are all bad. Tom Farrey is a journalist and executive director of the Aspen Institute’s Sports and Society Program, the think tank’s division devoted to games and those who play, coach and administer them. He penned a recent essay in the New York Times that led with the athletic kerfuffle at William and Mary and floated the idea that fewer varsity sports could actually be good for schools, for athletic departments and for students and athletes themselves.

The present Division I college athletic model is unsustainable, Farrey argued, particularly for schools

outside the Power 5 conferences that don’t have access to the revenue streams provided by network TV deals, in-house league TV networks, ticketing, marketing, licensing, etc. For example, the Big Ten distributed $55.6 million per school in fiscal year 2020, according to USA Today. That’s in addition to the revenue that each school generates. The Southeastern Conference paid out $45.3 million per school, according to its most recent filing. The ACC paid between $27.6-$34 million to its member schools. By comparison, William and Mary’s entire athletic budget is approximately $30 million, with almost negligible revenue from its league, the Colonial Athletic Association.

Farrey said that fewer varsity sports can open the door for increased levels of club and intramural sports. In addition to the cost savings for scholarships and coaches and staff, athletic departments and athletes would not be bound by the NCAA’s voluminous rule book. Nor would club-level athletes feel as if their entire college existence were tied to competition, often the case when scholarship aid is part of the equation. They would be responsible for their own coaching, practice and competitive schedules – valuable qualities easily applied later in life.

Farrey wrote that reducing the number of varsity sports means less money pursuing and recruiting athletes and creates the potential for athletic departments to reallocate money for more robust club and intramural programs. I’m skeptical of this argument, since many athletic departments will take any savings and either give it to the remaining sports or perhaps apply it to the bottom line. Athletic departments tend to spend every dime available. And as difficult as it is to manage an intercollegiate athletic program, I don’t see departments setting up club sports administrative structures.

Farrey pointed out another potential benefit: cost savings to students. Student fees at many schools provide a sizeable chunk of the athletic department budget, particularly at non-Power 5 schools. Student fees are tacked onto their bills, in addition to tuition and room and board, regardless of whether they’re sports fans or attend games. NBC News did a piece last spring examining student fees and found that many schools were less than forthcoming about that particular line item. At William and Mary, students pay more than $1,900 annually, which totals $14.5 million for athletics, almost half of its athletic budget, according to the report. At James Madison, students pay $2,340 per year in fees, providing $38.9 million for the athletic department.

It’s easy to foresee a revolt. Students may justifiably demand access to athletic facilities and resources, since they’re helping to pay for them. With student debt increasingly burdensome, fees can tack on $5,000-$10,000 to student loans and further extend payback plans. Any reduction in debt is helpful.

William and Mary likes to think of itself as unique, and it may be. It’s part of the school’s DNA that athletes are integrated into the college community and not separated by virtue of their ability. The school does not have “eligibility” majors or academic tracks. Athletes and coaches often make do with less than their peers, yet routinely challenge for conference championships and postseason berths. The W&M community takes pride in that.

Which speaks to why the school now has an interim athletic director and a loosely organized aim to re-examine its decision to cut sports. Former AD Samantha Huge badly mis-read the room, and her ham-handed efforts were her undoing. To hear some of her detractors and those affected by the decision, she was not only callous but disingenuous (Honestly, the breadth of groups she antagonized and alienated within the college community is impressive).

Huge believes that William and Mary’s present model is unsustainable. She may be correct. A more polished and engaging athletic director might have reached the same conclusion and might have been able to sell the decision, painful as it is. The teams targeted for extinction, and many within the athletic and school community, ask for the opportunity to do it the way they’ve always done it and to remain true to the school’s mission. Whether that’s possible amid the realities of 2020 college athletic economics and a global pandemic whose effects will be felt for years to come is an extraordinarily tough call.

Our Ombhudsman Could Kick Your Ombudsman's Ass

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Virtual Newsrooms and the Dehumanization of the News

Our man in the OBX worried that we're growing weary of his narrowly-focused insider baseball news content. He needn't fret, especially when he offers a phrase like, "a cornerstone of newspapering is being able to humanize the day’s activities" and helps me consider yet one more thing I hadn't. Also, as I told him, the internet's leading forum for dipshittery absolutely needs a media critic. And so, on with the criticism.

Apologies for dragging this particular dead horse into the yard for another flogging, but I believe it bears mention and repeated attention. Today’s micro-outrage involves local newspapers and shops with which I’m familiar.

Chicago-based Tribune Publishing, my former employer, announced recently that it planned to close the offices of the Capital newspaper and Maryland Gazette in Annapolis, Md., also a former employer, along with several other papers, among them the New York Daily News and Orlando Sentinel. Those papers will still publish, but staff must work from home or make other arrangements.

Capital-Gazette staffers planned to meet at the offices on Labor Day to clean out desks and to bid farewell to the newsroom. Trib Publishing got wind of the plan and locked staff out of the building. Understandably hacked off, reporters and editors convened in the parking lot and then drove to the city dock for an impromptu rally.

Tribune executives couldn’t be reached for comment, according to one report, but a labor relations executive texted that the proposed Labor Day gathering “raises important Covid-related health concerns.” This would be laughable, were it not galling. We’re supposed to believe that a newsroom full of reporters and editors who have spent the past six months covering the pandemic wouldn’t follow safe practices for gathering and interaction. We’re also supposed to believe that a corporation that’s whacked staff and strip-mined newspapers across the chain suddenly is focused on worker safety and well-being.

You might remember that the Capital was where five staffers were shot dead in the newsroom in 2018 by a man who held a long-standing grudge about how he was portrayed in coverage. The paper won a Pulitzer Prize for its work in the aftermath of the killings, and security and materials were bolstered to make the offices safer. Temporarily, it turns out.

The decision to close the offices in Annapolis and elsewhere is a real estate and bottom line move, company officials say, exacerbated by the pandemic (funny how the pandemic became a convenient corporate excuse for everything from furloughs and layoffs, to mandatory attendance by “essential” workers). Not coincidentally, one of Tribune’s primary investors and influencers is an outfit called Alden Global Capital, a vulture capital firm that I’ve mentioned in this space. AGC has spent the past decade acquiring and wangling a seat at the tables of newspapers all over the country and siphoning off money through staff cuts and various meat cleaver practices. The Trib, and by extension Alden, pulled a similar move with the Norfolk Virginian-Pilot. The Trib essentially merged the Newport News Daily Press, my old haunt, with the Pilot. They sold the Pilot’s longtime downtown Norfolk office building for $9.5 million to a real estate developer, and forced Pilot staffers to work from home and travel to Newport News in the event of office functions.

Shuttering newsrooms, sending everyone home and selling the space is one more way to wring every last nickel out of newspapers. The pandemic has shown that many companies are able to function without a central office culture. I’ve argued in the past that newspapers are different and cannot be run like traditional businesses. Newsroom culture is vital to the newsgathering process, especially at smaller papers. As others have said, a newsroom is often a community’s eyes and ears, and on good days, maybe its conscience. Reporters and editors lean on each other for feedback and ideas. There’s incredible value in being able to walk a few steps and have face-to-face contact with peers, given that a cornerstone of newspapering is being able to humanize the day’s activities. Without a newsroom, there’s still interaction, but when everyone’s separated, phone calls and emails and social media contacts are inadequate substitutes. Everyone benefits when it’s done well.

(A few words about anonymous sources, if I might, which have gotten a lot of play lately after a recent piece in The Atlantic about the president’s alleged remarks of disdain for war dead and ceremonial tributes: Newspapers and news organizations have done a piss-poor job through the years of explaining the how and why and value of anonymous or unidentified sources in breaking stories. Reporters and editors always prefer that sources go on the record and identify themselves. Sometimes, given the nature of information or someone’s position, that isn’t an option. They have jobs and mortgages and families to feed. Sometimes, identifying oneself can compromise their position or that of colleagues. Retaliation can be swift and brutal. Just ask Alexander Vindman. Though they are anonymous to the public, people in the reporting chain know who they are. Reporters, editors and, depending on the sensitivity of information, sometimes lawyers carefully weigh whether to run stories dependent on unnamed sources. Stories rarely run at legit news organizations if sources aren’t deemed credible. I’ve never written about national security or government shenanigans, but I’ve written stories where the unnamed source or sources were the subjects themselves. He or she had no comment for print, but confirmed details off the record or what reporters call “on background.” Then, you flesh out stories with other sources. People on social media gave me gas for linking to The Atlantic piece. “Anonymous.” “Not credible.” “Your bias against Trump is evident.” “You never would have run that story in your old newsroom.” “If somebody isn’t willing to ID themselves, you don’t run it. Journalism 101.” Yes, by all means, explain Journalism 101 to me.)

Getting locked out of an office that’s getting ready to close is a minor indignity in the assault against newspapers. But it also drives home that there’s no act too small or petty that those in charge will not use to reinforce their position. There was no reason not to permit staffers to take a last lap around the newsroom, a place where many have given their heart and soul and do work because it’s important to their community. Likely, they did so for the same reason that too many others in power act: Because they can.

Staff Member Guestie: Requiem for a Scribe

Between trips to the liquor store, our man in the OBX penned this remembrance of Pete Hamill, a New York original and a throwback to a different era of newspaper man. Within it, Hamill's words, a turn of multiple phrases that'll leave you wishing you could ever write like that. "...the permanent present tense of the trade", indeed.

Pete Hamill’s death this week was another cruel reminder of the demise of newspapers and the people that made them part of the fabric of towns and cities everywhere.

Hamill was a columnist, magazine writer and best-selling author. He traveled the world, knew the famous and infamous, and wrote about people and places far and wide. But mostly, he was a newspaperman, New York through and through.

Born in Brooklyn, he wrote for five New York City papers and outlived three, as one of his obituaries put it.  His knowledge of the city was encyclopedic, but he once wrote, “In the end, the only thing the true New Yorker knows about New York is that it’s unknowable.”

Hamill was part of a vanishing breed of newspaperman – the columnist who tried to take the pulse of a

city, the reporter who is comfortable at city hall or a crime scene or a local tavern or a neighborhood fair, the sort of voice that caused people to reflexively pick up the paper to read what he thought.

New York was blessed with a slew of such voices, among them Jimmy Breslin, Mike McAlary, Russell Baker and Red Smith (Breslin wrote a column, on deadline, the night that John Lennon was assassinated that is equal parts wizardry and journalism).

Metro columnists were a staple and in some cases the face of city newspapers – Breslin and Hamill, Mike Royko in Chicago, Mike Barnicle in Boston, Jim Murray in Los Angeles, Herb Caen in San Francisco, Molly Ivins in Dallas and Fort Worth, Carl Hiaasen in Miami. Many of them died or moved on, and as newspaper staffs were gutted in the past 25 years, the position in many places was deemed expendable.

Many major newspapers still employ columnists, some of whom are excellent. But you won’t find David Brooks or Peggy Noonan or Leonard Pitts at Engine Co. 14 to talk about firemen’s pension funds or roasting city council members over budget shenanigans.

Hamill wrote with grace and empathy, a two-fingered-typing poet. He approached his work with an explorer’s curiosity. He often said that being a high school dropout and getting what he thought was a late start into newspapering – he was 25 when he landed his first job – were ample motivation. We are unlikely to see his kind again, thanks to the jackals of commerce and the march of time.

Enough gasbagging from me. Here’s an excerpt from one of Hamill’s collections:

“For me, the work itself was everything. I had grown up under the heroic spell of the Abstract Expressionist painters, and one of their lessons was that the essence of the work was the doing of it. … In my experience, nothing before or since could compare to walking into the New York Post at midnight, being sent into the dark, scary city on assignment, and coming back to write a story for the first edition. No day’s work was like any other’s, no story repeated any other in its details. Day after day, week after week, I loved being a newspaperman, living in the permanent present tense of the trade.

“This is not to claim that I’ve produced an uninterrupted series of amazements. Reading over a quarter-century of my journalism for this collection, I have often winced. If I’d only had another three inches of space, or another two hours beyond the deadline, perhaps this piece would have been better or that piece wiser. There were newspaper columns that I wish I’d never written, full of easy insult or cheap injury. There were many pieces limited by my ignorance. Too many lazily derived their energy from the breaking news to which they served as mere sidebars. … Sometimes I completely missed the point, or didn’t see the truth of a story whose facts were evidently there in my notebook. But this is not an apology. It is the nature of such work that that it is produced in a rush; the deadlines usually force the newspaper writer to publish a first draft because there is no time for a second or third. Once that piece is locked up in type and sent to the newsstands, there is no going back; the writer can correct the factual error, but it’s too late to deepen the insight, alter the mistaken or naïve judgment, erase the stale language that was taken off the rack. He or she can only vow never to make that error again and start fresh the next day.”

R.I.P. Dave Fairbank (Not Really. Don't Be Alarmed. You'll Understand When You Read the Post. Jesus, Lighten Up.)

I confess that I was torn when I read this entry from our man in the OBX. On the one hand, it's predictably droll, self-deprecating, and entertaining. On the other, the topic is, well, morbid. And we've got our share of that right now. But it's also the kind of thing that could lead to a recurring bit, and we rarely let that kind of thing pass without pouncing. So please enjoy Dave Fairbank's autoeulogy.

I’ve been thinking about death lately. Not a cheery topic, but it’s tough to avoid with the official U.S. COVID death toll tracking like one of Elon Musk’s rocket launches, and with George Floyd and other victims sparking national and international protests and demonstrations.

Discouraging, yes, but not entirely gloomy. I took the opportunity to write my own obituary. I presently feel fine and don’t think my demise is imminent. But you never know. As I told the site’s Pocket Sultan at the most recent OBFT, if I get infected by the coronavirus, I have no idea if I would be asymptomatic, dead in a week, or somewhere in between. Or, I could go the traditional route and drop dead of a heart attack. Might as well prepare a little. (I do enjoy Pocket Sultan. Please feel free to use it.)

One could argue that writing your own obituary is a mite macabre and self-absorbed. But I submit that it’s compassionate. It relieves grieving loved ones of the added chore of adequately recapping a life, and it affords time to assign booze delivery for the wake or to devise tactics that screw relatives in the event of estate squabbles.

It also provides the deceased an element of control about their existence. We read obits all the time that say Jimmy loved gardening or Angela cherished time skiing with her family, when in fact Jimmy just wanted out of the house and away from the missus, and Angela was scared shitless of skiing but her family never asked her and kept booking ski trips.

Writing your own obit is hardly an original idea. Lots of people have done it. I found it to be a pleasant diversion. You could write it straight, but what’s the point in that? Let’s put the “fun” back in “funeral.”

I plan to leave this with my loved ones and hope they see fit to print it somewhere. If not, I may require legal assistance. As always, suggestions are welcome.

After overstaying his welcome by several years, Dave Fairbank of Kill Devil Hills finally departed this world on (FILL IN THE BLANK), leaving an open bar stool in establishments on the Outer Banks and beyond.

He is survived by his wife of XX years, Suzanne, whose love and support are matched only by her tolerance for her husband’s goofballery and myriad shortcomings. He is also survived by a sister, Sandy Chambers, and her husband (Bill) and sons (Michael and Alex), all of whom had the good sense to live hundreds of miles away so as to limit direct contact with the deceased. He fathered no children, sparing potential offspring a questionable upbringing.

Dave was preceded in death by his parents, Bob and Ruth Fairbank, loving, wonderful role models who deftly masked their disappointment in their oldest child and now have the opportunity to ask him why he didn’t amount to more.

Dave spent most of his professional life as a sportswriter, which permitted him to Peter Pan his way through adulthood, telling stories about games and kids and coaches, and avoiding real work. He wrote thousands of stories in almost 40 years as a newspaperman and freelance writer, many of which were competent.

He possessed no useful skills, was a disaster with technology, understood little about regular jobs, and squandered too much money on alcohol, for which his parents are almost certainly giving him a disappointed side-eye in the hereafter. He tried to listen to people and to read broadly. He enjoyed movies and music and was partial to blues, old jazz and 1970s era funk and soul. He never saw “Hamilton,” yet somehow endured. He was sociable, yet rarely dominated a room. Rumor had it that on occasion he was good company.

Dave was born on Sept. 24, 1958 in Baltimore before his parents whisked him away to the wilderness of Edgewater, Md., south of Annapolis. He attended Southern High School and then Washington (Md.) College and the University of Maryland-College Park, where he graduated with a General Studies degree, which meant that he was qualified to do nothing. He had the opportunity to work with his father, who helped run and later owned a small business, but he was determined to do something less lucrative that required excessive and unusual hours and peculiar work habits.

He spent the bulk of his career at the Newport News (Va.) Daily Press, covering mostly college and prep sports, along with the occasional professional golf tournament, NFL game and NASCAR race. He saw, in their youth, Allen Iverson, Michael Vick, Alonzo Mourning, Pernell Whitaker, Ronald Curry, Terry Kirby, J.R. Reid, Percy Harvin, Olympic sprinters Francena McCorory and LaShawn Merritt, CFL legend Michael Clemons, and future NFL head coaches Mike Tomlin and Sean McDermott, among an almost embarrassingly rich list of talent. Crossing paths with those athletes didn’t buy groceries, but they provided stories. He was humbly surprised and grateful that subjects returned his phone calls and willingly spoke to him.

Dave fortunately avoided the staff cuts and purges that became de rigueur under the soulless, corporate jackals that increasingly ran newspapers. He left the newspaper business in 2015, and he and Suzanne relocated to the Outer Banks, where he swept sand and dodged hurricanes and sampled fish tacos. He did some freelance writing for various publications and was a periodic contributor to a friend’s blog, a gig that somehow was even less profitable than newspaper work – re-confirming his financial acumen.

In short, Dave was blessed beyond all reason and explanation. In other countries and circumstances, someone of his limitations might have been homeless or institutionalized. Instead, he managed to carve out a niche and function among the public. Wonders never cease.

In lieu of flowers, retire to a tavern, have a few drinks, and over-tip your server.

Corona Files: Strange Bedfellows

We've been way out in front of the slow-motion crumbling of the edifice of collegiate athletics since at least last Thursday. Today, we go down a few levels, plumbing the depths of both the NCAA ladder and our readership's patience. Our OBX correspondent will try below to convince you that the Christopher Newport Captains will soon participate in the same league as the University of California Santa Cruz Banana Slugs. I've also asked him to feel free to send my some of that good, good Corolla kush. For medicinal purposes, obviously - still working my way back from these herniated discs.

I’ll try to keep this brief, since it involves small college athletics in my little corner of the world, and you are a diverse and widespread group that likely doesn’t give a blue fig about small college athletics or the school in question. On its face, however, this item pins the bizarre-o-meter.

Christopher Newport University, located in Newport News, Va., successfully competes in Division III athletics as a member of the Capital Athletic Conference. The CAC is a small, regional collection of schools – until Tuesday. The league announced that it will add six schools for the coming year: two in California, one each in Michigan, Wisconsin, New York and Massachusetts.

At a time when colleges are shuttering programs and whacking expenses amid a pandemic, a Division III conference that stretches from Virginia and Maryland to the upper Midwest to California appears batshit crazy.

As usual, there’s more to it. The move is an administrative necessity to preserve NCAA guidelines for  members to earn conference championships and NCAA championship bids. The CAC has been shedding schools for the past couple of years, and will do so again after 2021. If membership falls below a certain number of schools, conferences lose automatic NCAA bids for their champions. Earning NCAA berths becomes far more difficult as an independent or at-large entry in Division III, which has more than 440 colleges nationally and whose tournament fields typically are smaller than in Division I.

Now, logically you still might wonder why Christopher Newport couldn’t simply align with more geographically compatible mates in Virginia, the Land of 1,000 Tuitions. The problem is that nearly all of the Division III schools in Virginia are small and private. Indeed, 80 percent of the nation’s Division III schools are private. Many regional leagues view CNU, with its public status, enrollment of almost 5,000 students, and D3 upper-tier athletic facilities as philosophically incompatible with their schools. They want no part of admitting a school whose standards and emphasis they think, accurately or not, do not match their own and would make them a perennial contender in darn near every sport.

So Christopher Newport had to get creative. There will be no traditional conference regular season schedules, for obvious reasons – distance and cost. CNU will likely play nearby conference schools Mary Washington and Salisbury (Md.) multiple times during the season. There will be limited conference tournaments in most sports, at pre-determined sites. Absent traditional round-robin scheduling, tournament seeding often will be done by computer. Scheduling will be a challenge, because CNU will have to wangle more non-conference opponents who are in the midst of their conference seasons.

It ain’t perfect, but it preserves the athletic department’s competitive aims. And on the plus side, CNU is now in a league with UC Santa Cruz. Can’t be all bad with the Banana Slugs.

Corona Files: The Horse Beating Shall Continue Until the Jockeys Learn Their Lessons

I have thoughts about the following, a typically thoughtful offering from our colleague in name but not yet in technical fact (come on already, Teej), Dave Fairbank. Specifically, I'm embroiled in an imbroglio related to our local soccer club's handling of the cancellation of the Spring season and I spent an hour on a Zoom call with the editor of our town's weekly. Intersection of interests and institutions I'm inclined to support, with a twist. I've had media training, and I think I did a pretty good job of presenting one side of a complicated story, but I have no idea how the story's gonna get written. At the same time, I'm completely in the camp of the media generally. Fascinating times, these.

Not withstanding that, I also think the pandemic will materially change the landscape of college sports. I think Division II and III will swell with refugees from Division I who probably flew too close to the sun in the first place. We're a lot closer to a 65-school mega-conference and micro-regional leagues in everything but hoops and football. But you didn't come here for my bloviation. Eh, you might've, but this is better.

In any case, please enjoy OBX Dave's latest:

As the death toll climbs toward 100,000 in the U.S., and millions suffer physically, mentally and economically, collateral damage from the pandemic is both immediate and long-term. I’m more fortunate than many, which permits me to beat two dead horses, umm, address subjects close to my heart: journalism and sports.

The coronavirus’s impact on sports is obvious. Postponements and cancellations, as people try to
figure how to compete safely. The Bundesliga and NASCAR re-started in empty venues. Korean pro baseball has been up and running for a couple weeks, minus fans. While it’s nice to see live competition again, the vibe is weird – like televised scrimmages or practice sessions.

More discouraging is the number of colleges that have whacked sports programs due to financial hits. University of Cincinnati men’s soccer, Old Dominion wrestling, Bowling Green baseball, several programs at Akron. As of last weekend, a former newspaper colleague tracked 93 programs cut, impacting more than 1,400 athletes at all levels nationally. Expect more sports to be cut, as revenue streams dry up and financial straits become clearer.

If there’s a silver lining, it might be that the pandemic will force schools to reconsider geographically distended alignments and needless expenses. Schedule locally. Limit trips. Quit housing the football team in a local hotel the night before home games.

The Aspen Institute, the think tank and advocacy outfit, has tried to address pandemic effects in many areas, sports included. The institute’s Sports and Society program conducted a national survey in early May, gauging people’s thoughts on sports and re-starting. Among the findings: almost 50 percent of all parents worried that their child would get sick when they resumed playing a sport, and 46 percent worried that they would become ill themselves; 18 percent of parents said that their child was unlikely to resume playing sports when restrictions are lifted; 54 percent said that their finances had been negatively impacted; more than 20 percent said it will be too difficult to transport their kids to play sports; and 25 percent are uncomfortable with their children playing elite-level travel sports that will expose them to outside communities and people.

The pandemic has disrupted most lives, including those whose job it is to report on it. Journalism, particularly local journalism, has been reeling for years due to staff cuts and shrinking ad revenue and corporate vulturism. The coronavirus is another gut punch, on steroids. The New York Times estimated that approximately 36,000 people who work in media have been laid off, furloughed or had their pay cut during the pandemic. Admittedly, that’s a drop in the bucket when national unemployment claims are north of 36 million in the past three months. But I’d argue that reporters, especially local reporters, perform an outsized service to their communities, not just during a national health crisis, but daily.

Difficult as it is to do the job well in the best of times, it’s now increasingly perilous. You may have recent video of a Long Island TV reporter who was harassed when he covered a re-open rally. The group that organized the rally later issued an apology, but that doesn’t address the initial encounter. Nor does it help that the Tweeter-in-Chief praised the rally attendees and called out the reporter. I get that people are critical of Rachel Maddow or Tucker Carlson because their political views don’t align. I also get that a lot of folks are crispy around the edges due to lengthy quarantines, economic anxiety and coronavirus exhaustion. But we’re entering dangerous territory when local reporters are targeted and harassed for asking questions and doing their jobs, with the same rhetoric used for gasbags at the national level.
seen the

The crisis within local news is such that a group of 18 U.S. Senators sent a letter to Congressional leadership arguing that any future stimulus packages include money for local journalism. Among the signees were Virginia’s two senators, Mark Warner and Tim Kaine, Amy Klobuchar, Cory Booker and Sheldon Whitehouse. All 18 are Democrats, so given the present power structure, spotty oversight of aid packages thus far, and sudden reluctance about further stimulus measures, I’m not holding my breath. But it was a nice gesture, albeit a decade late.

No one knows what normal is gonna look like. If we can get sports back safely and keep local newspapers alive for another 20 minutes, I’ll take it.

Corona Files, Loosely

A funny and poignant reminiscence from our man in the OBX, with a very timely reminder at the end. The kicker, in the parlance of the ink-stained wretch.

I’ll try to keep this brief, since I’m an adjunct member and most of you know me only marginally or through this digital tree fort. I thought some of you might appreciate it.

On May 1, almost 20 of my college classmates got together for a Zoom call, where we caught up a bit, but mostly remembered and mis-remembered our rampant dumbassery and questionable decisions. The occasion was the 40-year commemoration of our graduating class. May 1 was also the 42nd anniversary of my former roommate’s arrest and brief incarceration for streaking through town, a May Day campus tradition that went sideways that particular evening and was a highlight of our call.

We attended Washington College, a small, liberal arts school in Chestertown on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. The school is notable as the first college chartered in the sovereign United States – George Washington lent his name and served on its first Board – and for the largest literary cash award to an undergraduate in the country. The Sophie Kerr Prize, more than $63,000 this year, is awarded annually to a graduating senior who shows the most promise in the literary field.

Two days after my roommate’s arrest and the absurd aftermath, the story landed on A1 of the Washington Post, what’s referred to in newspapers as a “bright” – a quirky, unusual piece intended to counter more serious news. The story was then picked up by news outlets along the East Coast, including my roommate’s hometown of Miami. It’s an amusing story, with a great kicker. A side note: one of the authors was a young reporter named David Maraniss, who’s still at the Post and who over the next 40 years won two Pulitzers and wrote books on Clinton, Gore, Obama, Vince Lombardi, Roberto Clemente, the Vietnam War and the Tokyo Olympics. We like to think that my naked roommate helped springboard his career and are certain that the story is listed prominently on his curriculum vitae. (The story is available in all its glory at this link.)

The episode seemed to be of a piece within our group, a loosely based fraternal bunch in the late 1970s and early ‘80s whose membership was based on proximity, irreverence, sports and an inclination to color outside the lines. We dubbed ourselves the BOF (Brotherhood of Freshmen) Chi, and though part of the name was taken from the Greek alphabet and campus fraternal system, we intentionally pronounced it “chee.” There were no dues, no recruitment or pledge obligations, and minimal service to the campus and community. Students awoke unaffiliated one day and members the next. Scholarship was optional. Our contributions consisted of the occasional dorm party and a Bizarre Bazaar that included events such as a cat food-eating contest (moist, of course) that drew more contestants than it should have. During one Homecoming parade, our float was a wagon rolled down the street from which we tossed chunks of cheese to the crowd (BOF cheese, get it?).

There were eight charter members, maybe twice that in total before the vibe fizzled. Several of us transferred, a few others left school for academic or personal reasons. We’ve maintained contact off and on through the years. Some of us stay in touch regularly, others we hadn’t seen in decades before the May 1 call. Like I said, loosely based.

Which is why the G:TB community and things such as the OBFT and various informal get-togethers you all arrange are treasures. Our Zoom call was a blast, but as several of you know from your own virtual meetings, it’s kind of a tease. I eagerly await the times when people can commune again. Maybe there’s masks, maybe there’s distance. But it’s human, and that’s the best we have.