This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

Yesterday, I wrote that President Joe Biden may not have a decent chance to run again in advance of the 2024 election, though he maintains that he will do so.

Today, I add to the issue by reprinting a column by Niall Stanage that appeared in my on-line edition of hill.com.

Stanage, a solid reporter and analyst, wrote under this headline:  The Memo:  Democrats cast around for 2024 alternatives to Biden

Here are excerpts from his column:

Democratic gloom is deepening as the party looks toward November’s mid-terms and beyond. 

The bleak outlook is engendered in part by a grim political environment marked by historically high inflation, elevated gas prices, and pandemic fatigue. 

But the Democrat depression is sharpened by concerns over whether President Biden is really the man for the moment, given his advancing age — he turns 80 in November — and his preference for consensus-building over the frontal political combat many in his party would prefer.

Yet, for all that, Biden has one sizable factor weighing in his favor.  There’s no clear-cut rival who could steal the 2024 mantle away from him.

The appetite for change is obvious.  A New York Times/Siena College poll released this week found just 26 per cent of Democrats wanted Biden to carry the party’s banner again in 2024.  Sixty-four per cent would prefer someone else to be the party’s nominee. 

There’s just no agreement on who that someone might be. 

Many Democrats are reluctant to speak ill of an incumbent president on the record.  But there is no mistaking the black mood.

“Biden should not be and cannot be the nominee in 2024,” said one Democrat strategist who requested anonymity to speak candidly.  “It’s as obvious as day to anyone who is being objective and honest that the president is too old to be president.  It’s that simple.”

Yet, the same strategist lamented that “there is no bench. That’s the catastrophic thing.”

It’s not as if there is a shortage of Democrats who might see themselves in the top job — even if some of them need Biden to step aside first.

The clearest example is Vice President Kamala Harris.  The first woman and the first Black person to serve in her role, she would be the obvious option if Biden opted against running for a second term.

But Harris is beset by her own problems, including approval ratings that are not appreciably better than her boss’s, an indifferent performance in office, and memories of an underwhelming 2020 presidential campaign.

Other high-profile options include a raft of figures who also contested the 2020 nomination, such as Senators Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, and Amy Klobuchar, as well as Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg.

Sanders’ 2020 campaign manager put out a memo in April underlining that the Vermonter had not ruled out another run for presidency, though he was equally clear that he would not subject Biden to a primary.

But Sanders is older than Biden, would be running for the presidency for a third time, and faces the perennial questions about the electability of a self-proclaimed democrat socialist.

Warren, Klobuchar and Buttigieg all have their fervent supporters, but they all also have vulnerabilities.  The arguments against each can be boiled down as too far left, too uninspiring, and too inexperienced, respectively.

Some Democrats are casting an eye toward governors and other figures who have not yet become national figures.

For now, Biden repeats that he intends to run again. A proud man, he bristles at suggestions that his party might cast him aside.

**********

And, this footnote.  Essayist Lance Morrow wrote this in today’s Wall Street Journal.

“Mr. President, if you’re sick of people talking about how old you are, think how I feel.  You’re only 79. I’m 82 — three years down the trail ahead of you.  You’re still a kid, though it is true that, crossing the White House lawn, you walk like the Tin Woodman in need of a squirt of lubrication. Falling off the bike wasn’t a good look either.  I wish you’d remember that after 75 the best hope is enigmatic dignity — elder statesman, grandfather knows best, Konrad Adenauer, that sort of thing.  Think gravitas. By the way, you need a new tailor.  The suits are too tight.  You’re not 24.”

I share Morrow’s perspectives on getting old, for I am old, too.  For Biden’s own health – and perhaps his reputation, as well — I hope he finds a way to step aside graciously.  Then, I also hope Democrats can identify someone who can assure that Trump will not be in the nation’s highest office again.

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

I hate to write this blog, even here in Oregon, 3,000 miles or so west of Joe Biden’s office in the White House.  But, at the same time, I know he has his work cut out for him if he decides to run again in 2024.

Of course, that far off is an eternity in politics.  And the mid-term elections occur first.  But, if the presidential election were held today, it is not clear that Biden would win – or that he would even be the Democrat his party chose to try to keep the White House.

If you accept recent polling, things are bad for Biden more than two years ahead of the election.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I voted for Biden last time around…for two reasons.  First, I thought, given his vast experience, he could rise to the challenge of the presidency.  Second, he represented the best chance to kick Donald Trump out of the Oval Office.  He succeeded on the second challenge; the first is pending.

But, according to polling organization FiveThirtyEight, only President Harry Truman had a lower net approval rating at this point in his presidency than does Biden.

Biden’s net approval sits at minus-16 (a figure obtained by subtracting those who disapprove from those who approve).  The previous record-holder for lowest net approval 541 days into the presidency was a dupe named Trump.  His net approval at this point was minus-11.

Meanwhile, Trump, the worst president in U.S. history, appears to be angling for another term, though he faces the prospect of a variety of legal challenges that could be lodged against him.  He may even announce his intention to run before the mid-terms.

Karl Rove, a long-time Republican political operative who now writes columns for the Wall Street Journal, contends Biden and company are making six missteps toward the 2022 mid-term elections, not to mention the next presidential election in 2024.

It would be possible to view Rove’s perceptions with skepticism because of his clear Republican credentials, but his points still resonate, at least to a degree.

He writes:  “President Biden’s actions this year are a textbook example of how to turn policy challenges into a political disaster.  Like the Kübler-Ross five stages of grief, the six steps of the Biden mid-term strategy start with denial.  The president deals with his mistakes and the dismal economic environment by saying things are better than they really are.”

Here is Rove’s rendition of the six missteps:

1. The chaotic withdrawal from Kabul last August
2. Blaming someone else for the economy’s ills.
3. Changing the subject, especially from the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe V. Wade.
4. Blaming Donald Trump (though I add my perspective that Trump deserves whatever blame he receives).
5. Appearing to be doing something, anything.
6. Abandoning ship…as Biden flounders, candidates in tough races will realize that they risk being sucked down as he sinks and begin to distance themselves from the president.

Speaking of abandoning ship, Wall Street Journal columnist Daniel Henninger follows the image by adding:  “The New York Times reported that its poll with Siena College finds 64 per cent of Democrats, not even waiting for the mid-term election results, want their candidate in 2024 to be someone other than the president.  That famous Democrat youth vote? Under 30, they’re down on Biden at a 94 per cent rate.”

For my part, I say it’s too early for Democrats to abandon the Biden ship.

One of the main challenges in assessing Biden, beyond the perceptions of Rove listed above, is that it could be contended the president will be too old to run again two years from now.

On one hand, that could reflect a bias against aging.  But, on the other hand, it strikes me as an accurate assessment.  Age matters. 

Ability to handle a crushing presidential workload?  It matters.  Ability to avoid confusion?  It matters.  Ability to speak clearly?  It matters.

On these counts, Biden faces real challenges, as would anyone pushing 80 years and beyond.

I wish him well, but I also think Democrats should be giving clear thought, probably behind the scenes if that is possible in a social media age, to who could replace him in the next election.  And a major factor in that calculation is who could have the best chance to assure Trump doesn’t land in the presidency again.

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

On the occasion of the playing of The Open this week at the Old Course in Scotland, my thoughts have gone to wonderful times for me and my family at the “home of golf.”

“The Open,” as they are careful to say in Europe, will be held for a 30th time at the Old Course in St. Andrews, Scotland.

With my wife, Nancy – her parents emigrated from Scotland to the U.S. – I have had the privilege of being in Scotland on five occasions, with Nancy as my tour guide, given her familiarity with the country of her parents’ birth.

Our trips have included several visits to the Old Course.  We usually arrived in St. Andrews on a Sunday to find the course closed to golf on that day every week.  For all intents and purposes, it was a park, with residents and visitors strolling the fairways, taking photos on the Swilcan Bridge (we did), and finding easy access a few yards away to the North Sea, with a sandy beach.

The last time we were in St. Andrews we were with our daughter, Lissy, and her family.  We immediately entered our names into what’s called “the ballot,” essentially a lottery to determine who can get tee times on the Old Course. 

Then, the foreboding reality came. 

I say “foreboding” because the 1^st tee at the Old Course is a major challenge for anyone, if only you have seen the hallowed space on television.

With winning the ballot, we added our names to the list of famous golfers, not to mention regular amateurs, who have teed off on that iconic hole. 

On the day of our tee time, we arrived a bit early, putted on the practice green near the 1^st tee, then stood on the tee as the clock clicked down to our time, read destiny. 

We stood where others have stood over the years – only a few yards away from the clubhouse for the Royal & Ancient Golf Club, the home of the ruling body of golf in Europe, with the 1^st fairway looking wide and inviting, hard by 18^th coming the other way.

All the faces glued to the window of the Royal & Ancient were there no doubt to watch us tee off!

Rather than provide my own description, let me quote from one of my favorite books – Two Years in St. Andrews — by one of my favorite golf authors, George Peper, now the editor of Links Magazine and, before that, a two-year resident in a flat on the 18^th hole at St. Andrews. 

Here is what he wrote:

         “No matter who you are, to stand for the first time on the 1^st tee of the Old Course is to experience the greatest natural laxative in golf.  So intimidating is the opening that Dwight Eisenhower, a five-star general who once held the fate of the free world in his hands, couldn’t handle the pressure.  He slinked to the second hole.

         “There you are, barely a dozen steps from the front porch of the Royal & Ancient Golf Club, the full weight of its four-storied grayness upon you.  Thirty-two clubhouse windows face that tee, and you can feel eyes piercing from everyone one of them, especially from the Big Room – front and center on the ground floor – where the blue-blazered members sip their gin and tonics and peer imperiously through graduated bi-focals.

         “You feel their eyes, lasered into your temples.  You feel the eyes of every golfer in your group, every golfer waiting to play, every lurking caddy, raking greenkeeper, and passing motorist, every shopkeeper, dog walker, street cleaner, beachcomber, and windsurfer, every gull, snipe, and pigeon, every fisherman on every trawler in the North Sea. 

Most of all you feel the eyes of Old Tom Morris and Harry Vardon, of Henry Cotton and Bobby Jones – of every great player, live or dead, who has ever walked these fabled links.  And you don’t want to disappoint them.”

The good news?  Even with all the internal and external pressure, my daughter piped her drive straight down the middle on the 1^st fairway.  I wasn’t the only one clapping!

I also managed to hit a decent drive, but it’s hard to do while you are clapping.

I have a host of other memories of golf at the Old Course, so will treasure the chance to watch golf again next week on that famous track.  So, live on Old Course!

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

On the occasion of the playing of The Open this week at the Old Course in Scotland, my thoughts have gone to wonderful times for me and my family at the “home of golf.”

“The Open,” as they are careful to say in Europe, will be held for a 30th time at the Old Course in St. Andrews, Scotland.

With my wife, Nancy – her parents emigrated from Scotland to the U.S. – I have had the privilege of being in Scotland on five occasions, with Nancy as my tour guide, given her familiarity with the country of her parents’ birth.

Our trips have included several visits to the Old Course where we usually arrived in St. Andrews on a Sunday to find the course closed to golf on that day every week.  For all intents and purposes, it was a park, with residents and visitors strolling the fairways, taking photos on the Swilcan Bridge, and finding easy access a few yards away to the North Sea, with a sandy beach.

The last time at St. Andrews we were there with our daughter, Lissy, and her family.  We immediately entered our names into what’s called “the ballot,” essentially a lottery to determine who can get tee times on the Old Course. 

Then, the foreboding reality came. 

I say “foreboding” because the 1^st tee at the Old Course is a major challenge.

Through the ballot, we secured a time and added our names to the list of famous golfers, not to mention regular amateurs, who have teed off on that iconic hole. 

On the day of our tee time, we arrived a bit early, putted on the practice green near the 1^st tee, then stood on the tee as the clock clicked down to our destiny. 

We stood where others have stood over the years – only a few yards away from the clubhouse for the Royal & Ancient Golf Club, the home of the ruling body of golf in Europe, with the 1^st fairway looking wide and inviting, hard by 18^th coming the other way.

All the faces glued to the window of the Royal & Ancient were there no doubt to watch us tee off!

Rather than provide my own description, let me quote from one of my favorite books – Two Years in St. Andrews — by one of my favorite golf authors, George Peper, now the editor of Links Magazine and, before that, a two-year resident in a flat on the 18^th hole at St. Andrews.  Here is what he wrote:

         “No matter who you are, to stand for the first time on the 1^st tee of the Old Course is to experience the greatest natural laxative in golf.  So intimidating is the opening that Dwight Eisenhower, a five-star general who once held the fate of the free world in his hands, couldn’t handle the pressure.  He slinked to the second hole.

         “There you are, barely a dozen steps from the front porch of the Royal & Ancient Golf Club, the full weight of its four-storied grayness upon you.  Thirty-two clubhouse windows face that tee, and you can feel eyes piercing from everyone one of them, especially from the Big Room – front and center on the ground floor – where the blue-blazered members sip their gin and tonics and peer imperiously through graduated bi-focals.

         “You feel their eyes, lasered into your temples.  You feel the eyes of every golfer in your group, every golfer waiting to play, every lurking caddy, raking greenkeeper, and passing motorist, every shopkeeper, dog walker, street cleaner, beachcomber, and windsurfer, every gull, snipe, and pigeon, every fisherman on every trawler in the North Sea. 

Most of all you feel the eyes of Old Tom Morris and Harry Vardon, of Henry Cotton and Bobby Jones – of every great player, live or dead, who has ever walked these fabled links.  And you don’t want to disappoint them.”

The good news?  Even with all the internal and external pressure, my daughter piped her drive straight down the middle on the 1^st fairway.  I wasn’t the only one clapping!

I have a host of other memories of golf at the Old Course, so will treasure the chance to watch golf again next week on that famous track.  So, live on Old Course.

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

Late night host Stephen Colbert had a quote for the ages the other day.

His topic?  The ultimate stupidity of Rudy Giuliani as he accused a person in a grocery store of assaulting him. 

The assault?  A tap on the shoulder.

Fodder for Colbert?  Of course.

Here is what he said:

“Rudy remains undaunted.  His son, Andrew, and his load-bearing teeth say we don’t have to worry about Rudy because he’s ‘tough as nails.’  And, just like nails, he’s always hammered.”

If nothing else – and there is loads more – Giulani’s conduct (Rudy, not Andrew) calls to mind other recent acts of stupidity.  Such as when went to a “Four Seasons” – it was an old garage, not the first-class hotel – to hold a press conference touting what he uttered as “fact” — that Donald Trump had won the presidency.

He did so as black hair dye rolled down his cheeks. 

So, it is not hard to argue, with Colbert, that “Rudy was hammered.”

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

Hill.com showed up last week with a list of what it called “the…most damaging allegations” against Donald Trump that have emerged so far based on the House Committee’s work investigating the January 6, 2021 insurrection.

I reprint those allegations below, but, before doing so, I add my own allegation which I believe could top any list.

It is this:  Trump hates this country and illustrated his hatred by fomenting a riot in the Nation’s Capital, one designed, like actions of a despot, to steal an election he had lost.  Like the narcissist he is, he refused to accept defeat, believing that everyone and everything revolved around him.

And, now, truth be told, despite all of the potential criminal actions he has taken, he is toying with running again for president.  Perish that notion.

So, beyond that leading allegation – mine — here is a summary of what hill.com wrote, with, first, a couple leading paragraphs:

“The panel, comprised of seven Democrats and two Republicans critical of Trump — Representatives Liz Cheney and Adam Kinzinger — has laid out a compelling case against the former president.

“By the panel’s account, Trump knew his claims of election fraud were bogus, recklessly encouraged the January 6 rioters and endangered his own vice president as members of a mob marching on the Capitol called for Mike Pence’s hanging.”

Hill.com’s list:

• Even the president’s own daughter, Ivanka Trump accepted the fact that there was no widespread election fraud.  She just couldn’t convince her father.
• Trump knew the January 6 crowd had weapons — and wanted to join them at the Capitol anyway, armed and ready to fight, even kill.
• Trump’s own campaign manager balked at fraud claims and was proud to be on ‘Team Normal.’  Trump didn’t care.
• And, Trump thought Mike Pence deserved to hang because Pence wouldn’t do his bidding.

I could go on.  The January 6 investigative panel has cited numerous additional instances of Trump’s crimes.  More is to come, especially on the basis of testimony from Trump lawyer Pat Cipollone.

Alone, this list of Trump’s misdeeds, including my leading proposal for such a list, plus Trump’s typical abnormal behavior, should prompt Americans to drop him from a list of any potential, future presidents.  It also should prompt law enforcement and legal authorities to subject him to penalties for his abhorrent conduct.

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

As we anticipate the start of “The Open” – yes, “THE OPEN”, not the “British Open” – it is a good time for me to reflect on highlights from a tournament I fully enjoy watching.

To underline, all Brits think of their event as “The Open.”  And, if you happen to be over in Europe and use the term “The British Open,” you will be disregarded or perhaps even fined by the purists there.

But, “The Open” is a great event, one I have watched over the years with interest and excitement.  Part of that is that The Open is often played on “links-style” courses that require a different kind of golf – playing the ball closer to the ground in contrast to most courses in America which require playing to a series of targets, often with high shots.

In the U. S., it’s called “parkland golf.”  [There are some links-style courses in the U.S. notably at Bandon Dunes, as well as Tetherow in Bend, Oregon, but, most of the time, you play here on parkland courses.]

Back in 2013, my family and I were in Scotland and my daughter was kind of enough to acquire Open tickets for all of us – my wife and myself, my daughter, and my daughter’s two kids – to watch the final round which was held at Muirfield.

It was – and is – a great course in Scotland.  Several years previously, it had hosted the British Mid-Am and our son, Eric, played in that event.  We were on hand as part of his gallery for a first-rate experience in Scottish golf.

At any rate, in 2013, we watched Phil Mickelson win The Open, his first triumph on a kind of course he had to learn to play after growing up in America.  I still remember when we were in a relatively small grandstand on the 13^th hole, a par 3 where Mickelson hit a 200-yard shot to a small green.  It landed 10-feet from the hole.  He made the putt and went on play well from then on to win his first and only Open title.

There was no room for us in the 18^th hole grandstands; plus, you had to pay extra to get a seat there, so we didn’t mind not doing so.

So, we watched on a big screen about 100 yards from the 18^th green as Mickelson won and hugged his caddie, Jim “Bones” MacKay, who has family roots in Scotland.  A great scene, even on a screen as we listened top the roars of approval.

Frankly, Mickelson has gone down in my estimation as he bolted recently to join the new LIV Tour, but his past accomplishments, including The Open victory in 2013, are worthy of respect, including mine.

In my current on-line edition of Links Magazine, writer Joe Passov captured some of the style of The Open as the event heads to the iconic Old Course in St. Andrews.

“Many Yanks still call it ‘the British Open.’  The rest of the world properly refers to golf’s oldest major as ‘The Open Championship.’

“Whatever your preference, this storied tournament will contest its 150th edition this July, when St. Andrews plays host for the 30th time.  Firm, fast-running seaside links courses pair with wind, rain, insidious pot bunkers, and rough dotted with heather and gorse bushes to offer a supreme challenge year after year.

“Amid the pressure of competing to win the Claret Jug trophy, it’s easy to see why the tournament’s greatest moments linger long in memory.

Passov cites five of what he calls “the great moments” in Open history at St. Andrews:

• European golfer Costantino Rocca rocks St. Andrews with a sinfully sensational putt (1995)
• American icon Tiger Woods blitzes the field and the Old Course (2000)
• Perhaps the best golfer in American history, Jack Nicklaus fulfills his destiny in a wild St. Andrews triumph (1970)
• Arnold Palmer, who energized the PGA Tour, re-energizes the Open Championship (1961)
• The duo of Tom Watson and Jack Nicklaus soar in their “Duel in the Sun.” (1977)

I did not have a chance to watch all of these “bests,” but I do remember Rocca’s win in 1995 (when he collapsed on the ground as the long putt made it into the hole).  I also remember watching Woods’ victory in 2000.

I’ll be waiting this year for another “best” to emerge.  Join me.

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all of my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

What are Republicans up to these days?

For one thing, they are divided.  And, if you want to understand just how divided they are, look only so far as this quote from the New York Times:

“The powerful testimony from a parade of Republicans, in four tightly produced hearings, has exposed, in searing and consequential detail, how divided the party has become between the faction that accepts the reality of the 2020 election and the many more who still cling to Trump’s anti-democratic falsehoods about a stolen election.”

And, in riveting testimony under oath last week, an aide in the Trump White House, Cassidy Hutchinson, only added to Republican divisions. 

Some Republicans were concerned about her testimony which clearly implicated Donald Trump in trying, by violent means, to overthrow American democracy.

Others, despite the incredible evidence Hutchinson provided, chose to stick with Trump, presumably on the basis that they still believed in his ability to draw votes for their future candidacies.

The reality, of course, is that, in many general Republican circles, Trump does continue to hold sway.  It is possible that he could run for president in 2024 as some voters continue to fawn over him, which is just what he wants as a narcissist. 

The dark prospect for rational government gets even darker as contentions persist that President Joe Biden will be too old to run again.  And, though he says he will run, it is not clear who Democrats will turn to if he decides one term is enough.

Back to Republicans.  They have no shame.  Many of them just view what happened on January 6 as another celebration of their views that Trump didn’t lose and that he should go to any extreme to avoid the tag of “loser.”

Two recent quotes from the Wall Street Journal and Washington Post tell this story as well as I can, if not better.

FROM THE WALL STREET JOURNAL:  “They [the congressional hearings on the January 6 insurrections] are telling a fascinating and devastating story:  An American president tried to thwart the democracy that raised him high and to steal a presidential election he’d lost.

“And it almost worked.  But good people stopped it. There was a sturdy infrastructure of still-moral elected officials and bureaucrats and political appointees.  Against pressure, intimidation and mob rule they held. Many, most, were political conservatives, and many were people of deep religious faith.

“In explaining their motives and way of thinking on January 6, they quoted Scripture.  For Greg Jacobs, counsel to Mike Pence who was with the vice president in an undisclosed location on January 6, it was the lion’s den: “Daniel 6 was where I went.”

“Chief of staff Marc Short at the end of the terrible day texted Pence 2 Timothy 4:7:  “I fought the good fight, I finished the race, I have kept the faith.”  Rusty Bowers, speaker of Arizona’s House, testified he believes the writers of the U.S. Constitution were inspired by God. “I took an oath” to that document, he said.  And he wouldn’t break it.”

FROM COLUMNIST GEORGE WILL IN THE WASHINGTON POST:  “America the beautiful is today America the irritable, where road rage, unruly airline passengers and political violence — a protective fence surrounds the court — reveal a nation of short fuses and long-simmering resentments.  

“Intelligent people disagree about how, or even whether, the facts of contemporary civic culture should influence how the Constitution, including the first 10 amendments, should be construed.  But as a founder (John Adams) insisted, facts are stubborn things.”

Thus, with all the posturing, especially among Republicans, it is not an exaggeration to suggest that we could be heading toward another “civil war,” if the word “civil” even applies to the word “war.”

And, dissension over abortion, fomented by heightened by rhetoric on both (or all) sides, will only aggravate the risks.

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

The headline on this blog is similar to one that appeared on a commentary by Hugh Hewitt that ran in the Washington Post last weekend.

In a few words, it makes the contention that the Supreme Court’s recent ruling on environmental protection really was about more than just that  general issue.  It was about the balance of power between administrative agencies and Congress in this country.

The court’s decision resides with requiring legislators to make decisions about how far administrative agencies can go in regulating public actions.  The gut-level conclusion:  Agencies cannot take aggressive action on their own, such as was the case with the Environment Protection Agency, without specific legislative action to back up the action.

Columnist Hewitt made the point in these lead paragraphs:

“The formal adoption of the ‘major questions doctrine’ by a solid six-justice majority in West Virginia v. EPA on June 30 was covered by the media as primarily, if not exclusively, a blow to the Environmental Protection Agency’s proposed regulations to combat global climate change.

“The news coverage largely missed the decision’s true significance.  That’s understandable.  Most journalists are not familiar with the far-reaching tentacles of the federal administrative state.  The court’s ruling certainly was a setback for the ‘pen and phone’ brigade of progressives who believe a progressive president ought to be able to use phone or e-mail to order Executive Branch agencies to do whatever he or she determines is necessary and proper.

“But that’s not how the Constitution spells it out:  Ours is a Constitution-bound government, whose powers are enumerated by that document.”

Hewitt added:  “Administrative agencies established by the Congress have been put on notice by the Supreme Court not to take action on controversies or issues — no matter how pressing those issues are believed to be — unless first given direction by Congress on the ‘major questions’ the agency would like to answer in whole or part by regulation.”

Put another way, federal bureaucrats cannot do what they have been doing for several years – acting on their own because they think they know best.

In the Wall Street Journal, columnist Kimberley Strassel adds this:

“Sweep away the opinion’s numbing technical descriptions, and the ruling is a joy to read.  The six conservatives on the court, in an opinion by Chief Justice John Roberts, have officially declared the ‘major questions doctrine’—a concept that has appeared in a handful of past court decisions—to be a living, breathing principle.  The federal bureaucracy is no longer allowed to impose programs of major ‘economic and political significance’ on the country absent ‘clear congressional authorization.’ Hallelujah.”

In the court case, Roberts used, as Hewitt put it, “a stiletto of a single sentence to gut the overreaching ambitions of federal agencies everywhere, not just the EPA’s overreach.”

“About the EPA’s attempt to invent the provenance for its climate change regulations, — ‘There is little reason to think Congress assigned such decisions to the Agency.’”  

All of this could apply, for example, to the Federal Trade Commission and its regulations of “Big Tech’s” data-collection practices, and for any agency seeking to control what Congress has not explicitly given it authority to control.  

Hewitt concludes:  “The unelected and unaccountable have been grabbing power for decades.  More such hacking back of the overgrowth cannot arrive soon enough.  The federal circuit and district courts will read this decision and get to work.  Good.  Hurry.”

As a lobbyist over about 25 years in Oregon, I frequently encountered aggressive attempts by unelected bureaucrats to go beyond the law, especially in health care and environmental issues.  They thought they knew better than those elected to make such decisions.

It bothered me then.  It bothered my clients.  And, it bothers me today as I reflect back on those occasions.

Good for the Supreme Court to underline the distinction.

This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

Fair warning.

This is a blog about dogs.

So, if you are not a “dog lover,” no need to read on.

However, for those who love dogs – my wife and I are among that group – read on for a good experience.

We have had the great experience of living with two dogs – Hogan, who is now looking down at house from heaven, and Callaway, who is with us today.  Both were and are miniature poodles.

If they had vocal chords, they could speak – they are that smart.

Today, there is no better way to laud dogs than to reprint a column by Michael Gerson that appeared in the Washington Post.

He loves his dogs!

First, just a bit about Gerson.  He is an op-ed columnist for the Washington Post where he has been since he served as President George W. Bush’s chief speechwriter from 2001 through 2006. 

He also has endured bouts with cancer and depression and, in both cases, he makes the point below that having a dog brought him through both.

His column appeared under this headline:  Why I will never live without a dog again:  Read on.

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Everyone must take a summer break from the relentless negativity of the news, which unfortunately reflects the relentless negativity of reality.  So let me introduce you to Jack.

Jack is a puppy I picked up last week, eight months after the death of my much-loved Havanese, Latte.  As soon as I brought Jack home — a powder puff of black and white, curvetting in the grass, all fluff and playful fury — I was reminded of the quandary and question that greets dog owners:  Why do we take new dogs into our lives, knowing we will be decimated by their deaths?

I grieved hard for my Latte, who was the dog equivalent of St. Francis of Assisi — a little hairy mammal (Latte, not Francis) who radiated universal benevolence.  She was a consoling, healing presence during the worst of my struggles against depression and cancer.  In a very real sense, Latte was a better person than I am — a daily practitioner of the hardest parts of the Sermon on the Mount.  She was meek, merciful (except to those godless squirrels), peaceable and pure of heart.  At her departure, I was the one who mourned.

I can still feel the ache at night.  Not long ago, my wife told me I had been crying in my sleep. I  don’t usually recall my dreams.  But, in this case, I remembered dreaming about the last time I saw Latte, after she was taken out of my arms to be euthanized at the veterinary hospital.  She lifted her head and looked back me with her large, sad eyes.  And then one of the most steadfast, lavish, uncomplicated sources of affection in my life was gone.  (Even now I can hardly write the words.)  She died, aptly, of an enlarged heart.

The 18th-century evangelist John Wesley gave a sermon, “The General Deliverance,” on the survival of animals in the afterlife — a very English line of theological argument.  (Many Brits regard the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show as a preview of heaven.)  The Creator, said Wesley, “saw, with unspeakable pleasure, the order, the beauty, the harmony, of all the creatures.”  Wesley believed that during the end-time renewal of the world (a basic Christian doctrine), the “whole brute creation will then, undoubtedly, be restored, not only to the vigor, strength and swiftness which they had at their creation, but to a far higher degree of each than they ever enjoyed.”

For most of my life, I lived in dogless ignorance and would have mocked such sentiments.  (It is so typical of Homo sapiens to regard heaven as their own exclusive club.)  I now hope that cross-species friendships of such intensity do not end in permanent partings.  Everything truly good in life must leave some eternal imprint.  Or pawprint.  When I am not crying in my sleep, I now feel such gratitude for an animal willing to comfort another animal during some of the most trying days of his life.  All without expectation of reward — except the occasional dried pig’s ear.

In human relationships, the transforming presence of love is worth the inevitability of grief.  Can dogs really love?  Science might deny that the species possesses such complex emotions.  But I know dogs can act in a loving fashion and provide love’s consolations.  Which is all we really know about what hairless apes can manage in the love department as well.

So I — who once saw dogs as dirty and dangerous — am resolved to never live without one again.  This led to the gift from my kind wife of Jack, the Havanese fuzz ball.  After my dreary brushes with mortality, I needed new life in my life.  And Jack is the bouncy incarnation of innocent joy.  Waking up on the day of his arrival was like Christmas when I was 9.

On brief acquaintance, Jack is the best dog in the universe.  During his first night with us, he slept for eight hours in the crate in our bedroom.  There were a few bleats of homesick protest, but they were quickly stilled by my voice, by his knowing I was near.  Why would a puppy just torn from his home, his litter and his parents place immediate faith in us?  This is one thing that makes the abuse of such animals so monstrous.  It is not only the expression of the human capacity for sick cruelty; it is the violation of a trust so generously given.

There is an obstacle in training Havanese dogs.  When you try to instill discipline, they employ a thermonuclear cuteness that melts all intentions of firmness.  But what other object can you bring into your home that makes you smile every time you see it? J ack is a living, yipping, randomly peeing antidepressant.  He improves the mental health of all who encounter him.

Why do we take in new dogs?  Because their joy for living renews our own.