The 'Greatest' Generation? / The Journal / A Dawn in Boston / Trump, Matthews & Hillary

The Greatest Generation? My father was a member of the so-called ‘greatest’ generation. He enlisted in the Army right after Pearl Harbor, joining up by March 1942. He didn’t have to enlist; in fact, it was a significant sacrifice as at that time my dad’s burgeoning medical practice was beginning to take off; he could have put off any military service for a year or two, at least; he ‘knew people,’ according to my mom. My father loved this country, which had afforded him great opportunity. So, he was compelled to ‘fight’ and defend his country in a great war.

The ‘greatest’ is accepted as the gospel truth now: that my father’s story was one of millions of soldiers’ stories defining the ‘greatest’ generation. I say this with the utmost respect and humility toward my dad and his contemporaries, but I disagree. The truth is that every generation whose young men had to fight in wars is the ‘greatest’ generation. War is such a catastrophic and horrific endeavor that every veteran of any war must be honored, and no one group should be singled out as special.

Tom Brokaw, who never was in the military at all, has made a ton of money off a couple of books he’s written about the World War II generation [One title: ‘The Greatest Generation’] He is of a mind that indeed those men were special, and unique. I’ll put aside the issue of whether Mr. Brokaw should ‘exploit’ these soldiers for his own fortune, and strongly counter that every soldier who’s fought in combat, whatever side he was on, is a monumentally courageous figure. Mr. Gripes has read all kinds of warfare history and combat fiction, and the one overriding truth he’s gleaned from the literature is that each soldier, in every war, especially the foot soldier [infantry], deserves our respect.

Allow me to cite Neil Sheehan, a correspondent in Vietnam for the New York Times during the 1960’s and ‘70’s, recollecting a battle scene in November 1965 that he may have witnessed: [NY Times, Nov. 13, 2015]

“Shortly after dawn the next morning [at the site of a battle that had taken place the previous day in Pleiku, in the Highlands of Vietnam] hundreds of North Vietnamese soldiers, in loose-fitting khaki fatigues that blended well with the terrain, rose out of the elephant grass and rushed C Company’s foxhole line, seeking to overwhelm it. When the fight was over, only 40 men of the approximately 100 men in the company were not wounded or dead.

       ‘But the North Vietnamese attackers never managed to break through that line to threaten the battalion position because the men of C Company, First Battalion, Seventh Calvary, fought and died like the young lions they were.

‘They, and so many others who fought in Vietnam, were as great as any generation that preceded them.  Their misfortune was to draw a bad war, an unnecessary war, a mistake by American politicians and statesmen, for which they paid.’ [Writer’s note: Amen.]

I’m in awe of the sacrifice and courage of these young American boys, who were thousands of miles from home fighting in an absolutely alien and hostile environment. They’re heroes, and so are all the others – friend or foe – who have fought in that most horrific and gruesome activity of men: war. There is no one ‘greatest’ generation. Every fighting soldier in every war merits our honor and genuflection.


Op-Ed at the Journal  One of Mr. Gripes’ late-in-life passions has been the ‘Wall Street Journal’. My left-wing friends, of course, frozen in their unyielding political snobbery, would probably not line a cat’s litter box with the Journal, much less ever read it. Conversely, if Mr. Gripes were to be stranded on a distant Pacific Ocean atoll, the Journal would be the one newspaper he’d ask for. It’s probably the only print newspaper making a profit these days, and the reportage among its news pages is written by superb journalists [with great sportswriting, by the way]. Plus, no one covers business scandals like the WSJ. The editorial and opinion pages, though, are farcical: they are a one-trick pony – ‘regulation, regulation, regulation’ is killing American entrepreneurship – that’s the message all the time. Hey, WSJ, wake up: lack of regulation gave this country the massive 2008 subprime recession. Regulation, in fact, protects the Wall Street big shots from themselves, and their insatiable and often-reckless lust for yield and profits.

A Spring Rock n Roll Memory: a long time ago, on the eve of a rugby game in Boston I was to participate in, Mr. Gripes got roped into attending a bacchanalia of sorts. At about 5:30 in the morning, having dozed off on a sofa, I awoke amidst the detritus of the all-night affair: empty bottles of wine, vodka and beer, inert bodies strewn all over the living room floor, next to plates of half-eaten hash brownies. I had slept for no more than 30 minutes. Groggily, and alarmingly, I realized my dilemma: I was completely exhausted, and I had a game in about 5 hours. Holy sh_t, I thought, I could get myself killed. There was no way I could run one yard. But I kind of got myself galvanized, and decided to go for a slow jog to clear my head. I step outside, heading for a running path along the Charles River.  

Once outdoors, I saw that it was a beautiful Boston morning, with the sun peeking over the horizon. The day glittered. Suddenly, out of a townhouse’s upper floor, I hear, loudly, ‘Here Comes the Sun,’ by George Harrison. The absolute perfect melody and lyrics for that occasion: the rising sun right in front of me, displaying its healing power and magnificence, and the Harrison tune were in total synchrony. In that instance, I said to myself, ‘I can get through this.’ Later, I played all 80 minutes of the game, and survived. I have held on to Harrison’s miracle ‘siren song’ moment ever since. After all this time, I thank you, Mr. Harrison. 


Every quadrennial Presidential race starts out with journalists insisting that the electorate wants more substantial coverage of ‘meat-and-potatoes’ issues, yet election coverage always devolves into a numbers game – polls, polls, polls. Why? Because the political reporters are lazy – in-depth substance takes patience, time and a lot of drudge work. So, instead of issues, we watch twerps like Chris Matthews ‘ambush’ Donald Trump, and get him to assert that a woman who gets an abortion should be punished. Mr. Matthews achieved this by running his rat-a-tat-tat motor-mouth, spewing off some incomprehensible questions, and basically confusing Mr. Trump.

Photo Illustration by Ben Israel and colorschoolfilms.com

It was a ‘GOT-CHA’ moment, the ‘Oscar’ moment for journalists like Matthews; afterwards Mr. Matthews is toasted by his colleagues as if he’s Woodward or Bernstein, even though his ‘moment’ is actually nothing more than a juvenile display of celebrity-driven American journalism at its worst. To Mr. Gripes, Matthews performed like an infantile, aggressive, and discourteous brat. Later, on his show, Charlie Rose, in an incomprehensible gesture, offered his congratulations to Mr. Matthews. Shame on you, Mr. Rose.


Be Careful of What You Wish For  Mr. Gripes issues a warning: if Democrats manage to help Republicans derail the candidacy of Donald Trump, that action may initiate the nomination of an alternate candidate who’s much more likely to beat Hillary Clinton. Sure, it’s gleeful to beat up on Trump, and these days everyone’s doing it, but if he’s defeated at the Cleveland Republican convention, the fun and games for the Democrats will be over. The Republicans may nominate a much less divisive candidate who could very effectively run against Hillary, who’s a victim of bad timing – 15 or twenty years ago, she’d have been an excellent choice, but she appears so old-fashioned and boring these days, mouthing the same old platitudes – she’s undeniably a very weak candidate. Her moment, I’m afraid, has passed, and that’s perilous for Democrats. If Mr. Gripes were a Democratic operative in 2016, he’d do whatever he had to do to assure Trump’s nomination. Otherwise, it could be Doomsday.

Jim Israel aka Mr. Gripes
April 6, 2016

Get That Cop Killer Back, Mr. President / ‘The Revenant’: Trailer Trash / See Ya, Governor….

Bring the Cop Killer Home, Barack….  Mr. Gripes certainly agrees with the ‘opening up’ of Cuba after 60-plus years. During those decades and decades of sanctions which accomplished nothing, America managed to humiliate itself over and over again in dealing with the Castros. [Bay of Pigs? The Keystone Kops couldn’t have handled that ‘invasion’ any worse; An exploding cigar? One of the CIA’s brightest bulbs thought that one up in an attempt to kill Fidel]. And yet, within ten years after the Castros depart, I will wager Cuba will be a strong ally of the United States [look at Vietnam now]. We have too many historic ties and mutual interests.

But, President Obama, put your foot on the brakes for a moment, will you? Because one matter has to be dealt before you let the Castro thugs feast on all the bulging wallets of tourists coming to Havana, or all the American business interests dying to invest in the huge Cuban reconstruction that’s inevitably arriving. Their months are watering, I bet. Again, none of this rebirth can happen until the cop killer Joanne Chesimard is returned to this country. Not in six months. Now.

A back story is in order: [as published in the NJ Lawmen magazine]:

‘On May 2, 1973 New Jersey State Troopers James Harper and Werner Foester were on patrol on the New Jersey Turnpike near New Brunswick. They stopped a car carrying three occupants.

‘As the occupants were being questioned, the driver and female passenger suddenly came up with semi-automatic pistols and opened fire. Trooper Foerster was shot twice in the chest, and Trooper Harper was hit as well. The female [Chesimard] then proceeded to take the service revolver from the injured Trooper Foerster. She pointed it at the wounded trooper and shot him twice in the head, execution style, killing him. [Italics added.] Mr. Foester left a wife and two children behind….’

Ms. Chesimard, a member of the Black Liberation Front, was subsequently arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced to life plus 26 to 33 years in prison. Regrettably, her incarceration was short-lived: some of her ‘revolutionary’ associates facilitated an escape from jail. She eluded authorities for seven years, before she managed to get to Cuba, where the criminals Castro welcomed her as a ‘freedom fighter;’ she’s lived in Cuba ever since, for 32 years, in ‘relative comfort’ according to one account.

In this country, Congress in the next session will take up the issue of sanctions on Cuba. There’s a split right now: some in Congress want more vigorous sanctions; others, a complete cessation of sanctions. Mr. President, you’re holding a hammer, which is one thing – besides guns and brute force – that the Castros understand perfectly well.

Why not, Mr. President, get on television, and announce the following: [Show some anger and disgust for once.]

‘You [bastards, under his breath] return the American fugitive and killer Joanne Chesimard to the United States immediately. I want her on a plane to New York within 72 hours, non-stop to JFK. Before you tell me ‘no’, let me remind you we can hit your country with even more severe sanctions. Besides, the Cold War is over, and she’s worth nothing to you, not a damn peso. In fact, she’s a liability, because we’ll never forget.  If you refuse me, just remember this: we got Bin Laden, and we’ll get her one day. So make it easy on yourselves, and give her up.’

Swapping a worthless pawn from a long-ago time for an opportunity to get their greedy, bloody hands on a huge pile of American money and commercial acumen, the Castro brothers, I think, won’t hold on to Chesimard longer than a nano-second if they’re delivered an ultimatum.

‘Our apologies, Chesimard, but the reality is you’re no longer welcome in Cuba. Bon voyage, and we’ll send flowers and a bottle of Bacardi’s as you cross the threshold to your gorgeous maximum-security-jail-cell home.’

Show some cajones, Mr. President. Drop the Harvard-Law-School pose for five minutes. Be pissed-off, and take on the pathetic Castros. We got Americans back from Iran and North Korea. This should be a piece of cake. Get Chesimard back. It’s way overdue.


‘The Revenant’: Gripes Says No Way -- It’s time, friends, once again, for one of the Gripes patented ‘trailer’ movie reviews. Mr. Gripes would much rather avoid squirming in some movie hall, seething and punishing himself for being such an idiot in passively agreeing to view some two-and-a-half hour piece of dreck; consequently, trailers have become his ticket.

You see, Mr. Gripes has developed a method to avoid the torture of bad movies: he examines the short trailers preceding the main feature, on the lookout for cinema he knows instantly he’d hate. A trailer runs for, what, four or five minutes, more than enough time for Mr. Gripes to make another ‘snap’ judgment. I not only save $12 or $15 bucks later on, I retain a shred of self respect by not wasting a couple more hours of my dwindling days on earth.

But the planets have to be perfectly aligned to discover one of the trailer movies I’m going to review. The movie has to have a tremendous amount of build-up and publicity, and contain a huge star or two, so Mr. Gripes can skewer with great delight the pomposity and self-regard of the film and its protagonists. In a previous trailer review, I observed about 75 seconds of Oprah’s thespian skills [she portrayed the mother of a butler working in the White House] and some ghastly casting – Robin Williams as Dwight Eisenhower! -- to recognize instantaneously I had come upon a Holy Grail of trailer movies. ‘The Butler’ was a gift from heaven.

Now another movie presents itself, and it’s a beaut: ‘The Revenant’ starring Leonardo DiCaprio. Folks, I won’t be going to see it any time soon.




Let’s start with the angry, perhaps rabid Grizzly bear: as you’re no doubt aware of, Mr. DiCaprio was set upon by the aforementioned ferocious animal and almost became the bear’s lunch. Somehow, Mr. DiCaprio, all 175 pounds of him and an Olive Oyl frame, bested a beast that probably weighed over 1,000 pounds, in the possession of incredible speed, endowed with huge claws and a demonstrably inhospitable demeanor.  Could I have suspended my disbelief and admired Leo’s invincibility? Not for a second.

[A digression about that bear: I don’t care how vicious the bear is, or how brave Mr. DiCaprio seems, my rooting interest was, and will always be, with the animal. If he [or she] could talk, it would say: ‘Listen carefully, Good Lookin’, I live in this forest, 5,000 or so generations of my ancestors have been here before me, and descendants  will live here long after me -- in relative harmony, I’ll add. So, holster your goddamn weapons, put your hat back on, and get the hell out, or I’ll tear your legs off. ’]

Nothing about ‘The Revenant’ appeals to Mr. Gripes. As I write this piece in New York City, it’s 1 degree, with a wind chill of 15 below, outside. Just getting to the supermarket involves putting on seven layers of clothing, a Herculean task in itself, and still being frozen half-to-death when I hit the streets. Mr. DiCaprio in the movie deals with much worse: snow drifts the height of the Himalayas, raging white water rivers, and impenetrable forest. Plus, Leo looks exceedingly uncomfortable: I would be, too, if I had to endure a rough, unfinished animal hide on my sweaty, bare skin. To Mr. Gripes, wearing that rustic, itchy coat would be a far greater ordeal than grappling with some enraged bear, that’s for sure. I never was one for camping, either – too much work. Watching Mr. DiCapro attempting to survive the ultimate camping trip holds absolutely no pleasure for Mr. Gripes. Again, too much exertion. I’d rather read a book in the library.

How Hollywood works is a mystery to Mr. Gripes. Here’s a movie that is essentially a remake of a Grizzly Adams tale; the hero manages to emerge from all kinds of catastrophes with body and mind intact. ‘Revenant’ looks like one of those over-the-top, Cecil B DeMille mega-productions that is fundamentally nothing but a jacked-up wilderness tale, propelled by a prototypically huge studio marketing effort. It all hinges on the handsome countenance of its star, Mr. DiCaprio. An Academy award for best actor seems inevitable, considering all the press and praise being lavished on the star these days. The big push is on.

But, in reality, it’s a ‘small’ movie, saddled with big, big pretensions, with actually very little to offer. Perfect for a Mr. Gripes trailer review.


Good Bye, Governor -- When New Jersey Governor Chris Christie dropped out of the Republican Presidential nomination race a week ago, it was the first time Mr. Gripes had exhaled in about a year and a half. I was scared to death of a President Christie. I’ve lived through Nixon, the Republic outlasted Reagan, and by the grace of God we managed to survive the woefully overmatched George W. Bush, too, but Christie in the White House? Mr. Gripes would pack his bags, buy a one-way airline ticket to New Zealand, and depart on a midnight flight the same day.

I’ve watched Christie closely for six or seven years now, since he was elected. He’s a dangerous man, entirely ruled by egregious self-interest and egotism, without a whit of governance skills, except for one talent: he could have run one hell of a race against Hillary Clinton; in fact, I would have taken odds he would have beaten her.

All politicians lie, and lie all the time. New York City Mayor Bill DiBlasio always is proclaiming what a great ‘progressive’ he is, but he’s now become nothing but another low-rent ward-heeler bent on his re-election. The instant his so-called progressive agenda works against him in terms of popularity, i.e., his harsh words for the police, he drops that agenda, and kisses the butts of the police union. I’m not against backing the police, per se, but this is a demonstration that there are no core beliefs when it comes to any of these guys. They’re phonies, all of them. [Except for Trump, maybe.]

Well, Mr. Christie was the worst of them. ‘Duplicity’ is his middle name. When he ran for re-election in New Jersey, in an attempt to show he’d be the one ‘unity’ candidate that both Democrats and Republicans could vote for in the 2016 Presidential election, he and his cronies withheld SuperStorm Sandy aid from some municipalities, all of which happened to be localities led by Democratic mayors who did not endorse him. One mayor of a northern New Jersey city, who refused to back Mr. Christie, was told by Christie’s lieutenant governor in a subsequent meeting that no aid would be forthcoming and if the mayor had the nerve to bring this matter up, the governor would ‘deny it, and no one will believe you.’ That exactly is what occurred in the wake of BridgeGate.

So, I say thank God for the George Washington Bridge fiasco that Mr. Christie must have known about and likely initiated. The wantonly aggressive act of preventing cars from crossing the bridge had the fingerprints of Christie all over it. That hurt him nationally more than any other factor. Everything about BridgeGate reeks of Christie the persona: ruthless, cruel, vindictive, bullying, and above all zero concern toward his constituents. Screw New Jersey, he probably reasoned, I’m on to much bigger things: this was all about Christie’s overarching ambition to be elected President.

Look at how he handled his Presidential run: he was never home, spending day after day, week after week, in New Hampshire hoping to jump start a campaign by doing well in the primary there. Most senators or governors would at least try cosmetically to cover their asses, and pretend to take care of home business. Not Christie. He was completely absent, and made no bones about it.

His ego crushed him, finally. New Jersey is absolutely fed up with him. Most of my in-laws live in New Jersey, and occasionally we drive out to a family event, and see everybody. They’re mainly Republicans, and two or three years ago, virtually all of them thought Mr. Christie was the cat’s meow – they enthusiastically supported him. This was probably a little after Sandy, at the peak of his popularity. Well, six months ago, we visited again, and not one of the same people expressed any support for him. In fact, the feelings were exactly the opposite; for instance, Sal, very conservative, and a big Christie fan once, simply told me, ‘I hate him.’ His New Jersey poll numbers? He’s at 35% now in terms of popularity, which is absolutely dreadful.

But Chris Christie, I’d hazard a guess, will be back. Mr. Gripes recalls vividly a very angry and bitter Richard Nixon, in 1962 the day after he lost his bid for the California governorship, at a press conference, declaring famously, “Now you won’t have Dick Nixon to kick around anymore.’ I thought he was finished. But, that didn’t happen: through an enormous drive to succeed, and incredible perseverance, Mr. Nixon made it all the way back. Chris Christie, with that will and ego, could be back, too, one day. I fervently hope not.

Jim Israel, aka ‘Mr. Gripes’
February 18, 2016

Trump Rolls Along / The 'Big Lie' / Woodrow Takes a Bullet

The Clown Car Keeps Chugging – Mr. Gripes has seen parts of all the Republican debates, and, after each one, as he resides on the sofa with mouth agape at the silliness, the infantilism, the imbecility, he wonders aloud, ‘How did what was once the most vigorous and successful democracy in world history get to here?’ It feels like we’re descending into a yawning abyss.

Suddenly it hits me, ‘Of course…it’s Sarah Palin!’ I remember the exact moment: in the middle of her debate with Joe Biden in 2008, she turned to the camera, and winked at all of us in the TV audience, as if she was letting us in on the hysterical farce that is American politics these days.

That moment was the catalyst for the increasingly irrational political discourse we’ve observed ever since. The debate catapulted Ms. Palin into national prominence, becoming an instant celebrity among Republicans. The truth we found out later was she really had no interest in governance; her overweening goal was to get rich, which she did, extravagantly so. [Two months after the election, she quit as Governor of Alaska, becoming a TV pundit [!!], writing a book which generated a huge advance, and embarking on a very lucrative career making speeches before adoring conservative audiences. She’s now a millionaire, a few times over.]

Which brings me to the present and the 2nd coming of ‘Sarah Palin’: Donald Trump. One thing, though, Mr. Gripes does give Mr. Trump credit for: like the leopard, he does not change his spots. While every establishment Republican politician and conservative think tank wonk would give their left arm to make Trump disappear, he continues to be at or near the front of the pack. [An aside: nothing pleases Mr. Gripes more than seeing the smug, rodent-esque Bill Kristol, one of the neo-con advisors exhorting George Bush to invade Iraq in 2002 so democracy would ‘flower’ in the Middle East, eat crow on ‘Morning Joe’ every couple of weeks after he’s assured us once again of a Trump collapse …Wrong again and again and again, Billy Boy.  If Trump triumphs, there’ll be no more easy-money, think-tank speaking fees coming your way for a while.]

But, Mr. Gripes simply doesn’t believe that Mr. Trump, not now nor four months ago when all this began, wants to be President of the United States. Oh sure, maybe he suffers at times from delusions of grandeur, and thinks he’s got a shot, but, in more rational moments, that prospect probably scares him to death. I think he ran for one principal reason: his ‘brand’ would be exponentially augmented by a few months of campaigning. And, that certainly has occurred: every building, every golf course he creates, every book he writes have greatly enhanced value due to his enormous notoriety. As well, any canned speech he presents in front of trade associations, corporations and the like from now on will go for $250,000 and upwards a pop.

Mr. Trump, lately, appears to be making more frequent outrageous --destructive, even –  blunders out on the campaign trail that seem to ‘Dr. Gripes’ to be collectively an unconscious wish to sabotage and terminate his Presidential run. [Although maybe I don’t give Mr. Trump enough credit; he may be very conscious of what he’s doing.] What’s the motivation, after all, when he actually called out, ‘How stupid can Iowans be’ when he was campaigning in Iowa, no less? Very strange behavior if he really wants to be President.

The other reason that I think this endeavor is a short-term move by Donald Trump is that he’s not spending any money on his campaign. Oh, sure, he promises he’ll be spending ‘millions very soon,’ but presently he’s acting like a cheapskate: his campaigning seems to be solely functioning through TV appearances, news spots and debates. [The networks drool over Trump and his attendant ratings, and give him essentially as much air time as he likes, all free of charge, of course.] There have been no advertising expenditures, and where are the paid staffs he needs to hire for the primary states he’s running in? Mr. Gripes senses that Mr. Trump knows damn well this campaign is ultimately a loser’s game for him, and he’ll hold on to every dime of his billions, thank you very much.

‘Mainstream Media’ – It’s the Big Lie, as Orwell so accurately called it. Definition: a falsehood so often and so loudly exclaimed that eventually people come to believe it’s the truth. Well, the Republican Party has trumpeted its own ‘Big Lie’ for a long, long time: it’s Republican scripture that the established media outlets – national television and radio networks, the New York Times, the Washington Post, and others – are ‘left-wing’ – with maybe a wisp of ‘commie’ stink, too -- and always slant the news against the Party of the Right; they can’t be trusted to tell the poor, misinformed citizenry the real facts.

What a crock of horsesh_t.

Let’s pretend for a second you’re Senator Mitch McConnell, Republican Majority Leader of the Senate, and you’ve just sat down for the usual breakfast bowl of oatmeal, coffee, and a slice of toast. You were appraised last night that another city has been ransacked and conquered by Isis in Iraq. What is the first newspaper you turn for a more detailed report? There’s only one: the ‘New York Times’. Do you actually think that Mr. McConnell will turn on Fox News for astute, accurate, objective analysis? Not in a million years. [‘Fair and Balanced’, my ass.] And what works for the Kentucky senator works for every other Republican senator. Each one of them will read the ‘New York Times’ during the morning, even as that paper is trashed all the time as leftwing propaganda by these same Republicans. It’s a corollary of the Big Lie.

Deriding and ridiculing media such as the NY Times or CNN serves another purpose for Republicans and Conservatives. When faced with an issue they have no genuine answer to, they simply assert the question is nothing but garbage promulgated by the mainstream media, so it’s not worth even discussing. The constant, lamenting refrain of ‘Mainstream Media’ is nothing but empty demagoguery. 

Here’s an example: Mr. Gripes observed in one of the Republican debates Senator Marco Rubio puff out his chest and declare, ‘We need a much stronger military; I’ll increase the military budget by $1 trillion to accomplish that.’ Governor John Kasich, a Rubio debate opponent that evening, counters by asserting, and I paraphrase, “Without increased taxes, which you’re going to have to implement, how are you ever going to afford that? You’re dreaming.’ 

Senator Rubio then blurts out, as his counter-argument to Mr. Kasich, loudly, ‘That’s the same non-sense line we get from the mainstream media.’ That was his only answer to a very valid question. Mr. Rubio had no substantive reply at all to the $1 trillion gap, so he avoids the whole issue by criticizing the media. And this ploy is done all the time, when politicians, especially conservative ones, don’t have a clue about solutions to problems. It’s all chimera, and posturing, and pandering to a rabid, angry base, with no connection to reality.  And these politicians know exactly what they’re doing.
‘Mainstream Media’ is a very useful tool for politicians. However, its utterance always represents a refusal or an inability to confront, honestly, the very difficult issues of a very complex world.

Leave Poor Woody Alone, OK?? Now it’s Woodrow Wilson who’s taking some bullets. This is the honorable Woodrow Wilson I’m talking about: initially, President of Princeton University, then New Jersey Governor, and finally President of the United States for two terms. During his Presidency, the country entered World War I and, in short order, Mr. Wilson and America managed to finish off Germany and the Axis powers. After the Armistice, he basically worked himself to death attempting to create a World League, the predecessor to the United Nations. Mr. Wilson, who indeed may have held racist views regarding people of color, was nevertheless an exemplary public servant, and should be lauded.

Instead, students at his school are now trying to get his name erased from the ‘Woodrow Wilson School of International Affairs,’ an extremely well respected institution, among a host of other demands. What would Mr. Gripes say to these students, if he were running the university? ‘Forget about it, boys and girls. Whatever honoraria Mr. Wilson might have garnered on these sacred grounds will not be touched. There’ll be no chiseling out his name from any of our buildings, and there’ll be no historical erasures among the books in our library. Friends, he was a great man.’

Mr. Gripes may sound like a curmudgeon on this issue, but, let’s be real, students – their youth certainly has a lot to do with it – lack context. Woodrow Wilson’s era was blatantly racist – hell, lynchings went on continuously at the time, unimpeded by any local, state or national officialdom. Blacks were indisputably second-class citizens in this country. So, let’s be real -- Mr. Wilson’s race beliefs were most likely very much aligned with those of the vast majority of citizens.

Of course, Woodrow Wilson held Neanderthal views on race relations. So what? A lot of our presidents made huge mistakes, harbored backward beliefs, and took despicable actions. Abraham Lincoln wanted originally to deport black American citizens back to Africa [to establish their own country, Liberia]; Franklin Roosevelt imprisoned American citizens of Japanese descent in remote areas of Nevada and California, as World War II commenced, and didn’t allow Jewish refugees from Europe to enter the United States at all during the war. But, should the monuments of both presidents be torn down and their great deeds erased from history books? Of course not. They were flawed human beings, like the rest of us.

Way back when, I was a student at one of the ‘elite’ colleges that resembles Princeton. And, I’m more and more appreciative of the great education I received there. Sure, I grumbled sometimes about school, but I was very cognizant of the gift my parents gave to me. It was an enormous privilege to attend a college of that caliber. These Princeton students, instead of wasting their time besmirching the reputation of their magnificent university, should take a long look at what they’re protesting. After all, there are so many other pressing issues – how about the systematic enslavement and raping of thousands of Isis female captives, for one – to focus their energy on.

Woodrow Wilson’s been dead for 91 years. Let the man rest in peace.

Jim Israel
Mr. Gripes                                                             December 7, 2015