Spitball Army

Donna Reed, iconic now as the quintessential mid-20th Century American woman, was also the epitome of the “hometown girl” to many men who served in the armed forces during World War II. Because of her exposure in the movie houses of the time, and also due to the rounds she would make regularly on the U.S.O. Canteen circuit, Ms. Reed was the recipient of hundreds of fan letters from Gobs, Flymen and Marines stationed overseas and on the home front. Her children have recently made the 341 letters to their mother – mostly handwritten – public.

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I used to think that 1972 was the be-all, end-all year of pop music, and 1967. Now I’m not so sure which one comes out on top. There is a ten-year stretch in there between the mid-’60s and the mid-’70s when some of my favorite records of all genres were released. I become firmer in my resolve about that with each passing year.

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The Orchestra Rocks;
celery;
interactive journalism

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On Friday, Michelle Obama will begin digging up a patch of White House lawn to plant a vegetable garden, the first since Eleanor Roosevelt’s victory garden in World War II. There will be no beets (the president doesn’t like them) but arugula will make the cut.

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This semi-satirical, talking blues folk tune is…a call to action to control and limit the proliferation of atomic weapons. It is, indeed, that rarest of early Cold War tunes, the anti-Bomb song.

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Before he arrives at the White House, he will probably be forced to sign off. In addition to concerns about e-mail security, he faces the Presidential Records Act, which puts his correspondence in the official record and ultimately up for public review, and the threat of subpoenas. A decision has not been made on whether he could become the first e-mailing president, but aides said that seemed doubtful.

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4:14 p.m. CST
Election Day
4 November 2008
Birmingham, Alabama

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So, the election is over, and you’re watching the results. Or you’re eager to put two years of presidential politics behind you, but wonder how much of it is still stuck in your giant brain. How does a quiz sound?

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About a week ago, on the Facebook website, someone posted an event entitled “Election Day.” Members were asked to choose whether they were “attending” or not, much like R.S.V.P.’ing for a dinner party. I selected Yes, and added a note: You would have to kill me to keep me from attending. I haven’t always felt this way.

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You can’t make decisions based on polls or whether those decisions will keep you in the White House. You can’t kowtow to your advisers, consultants, public relations people or the media. You have to do the right thing, opinion and politics be damned.

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