Allison W. Good

I was really disappointed to find this op-ed on JTA today, titled “Tom Friedman must apologize for slandering Israel,” and I have a lot of problems with it.

First off, slander is an offense punishable by law, so it’s a very severe term to use when describing how someone writes or expresses him or herself.  If you want slander, listen to Glenn Beck or Pat Buchanan.  They say things about abortion and homosexuality/gay marriage that border on the criminal.  Here’s what the author of the JTA op-ed says:

In words that blur the line between commentary and defamation, Friedman wrote of the “brutality of Israel’s retaliations” against Hezbollah and Hamas, and how Israel “chose to go after them without being deterred by the prospect of civilian casualties.” He then crossed a line of common decency when he irresponsibly accused Israel of using “Hama rules” in its war against the twin terror groups.

“Hama Rules,” he explained, “are named after the Syrian town of Hama, where, in 1982, then-President Hafez el-Assad of Syria put down a Muslim fundamentalist uprising by shelling and then bulldozing their neighborhoods, killing more than 10,000 of his own people.”

This is a straightforward blood libel. To accuse Israel of indiscriminately murdering thousands of civilians the way the butcher Assad did in Hama is to equate a democratic state whose actions are open to international media and scrutiny and constant judicial review with a bloodthirsty dictator and tyrant who held on to power without any restraint of law.

The point of Friedman’s column is that “Israel needs to try to buy its next timeout with diplomacy, which means Netanyahu has to show some initiative. Because the risks to Israel’s legitimacy of another war in Gaza, Lebanon or the West Bank — in which Israel could be forced to kill even more civilians to squash rocket attacks launched from schoolyards by fighters who wear no uniforms — will be staggering.”  This is the bit about Hama rules:

What is different about these three wars, though, is that Israel won them using what I call “Hama Rules” — which are no rules at all. “Hama Rules” are named after the Syrian town of Hama, where, in 1982, then-President Hafez el-Assad of Syria put down a Muslim fundamentalist uprising by shelling and then bulldozing their neighborhoods, killing more than 10,000 of his own people.

In Israel’s case, it found itself confronting enemies in Gaza and Lebanon armed with rockets, but nested among local civilians, and Israel chose to go after them without being deterred by the prospect of civilian casualties. As the Lebanese militia leader Bashir Gemayel was fond of saying — before he himself was blown up — “This is not Denmark here. And it is not Norway.”

1. Someone needs to teach Shmuley Boteach, an American Orthodox rabbi/author who does radio and television, about run-on sentences.  Either that or JTA needs a new copy editor, because that last paragraph is a mouthful.  But seriously Shmuley, ever wonder why Friedman’s books are bestsellers and yours aren’t?

2. The use of the term “blood libel” is confusing and nonsensical.  Boteach is a rabbi, so he should know that blood libel is “a sensationalized allegation that a person or group of people engages in ritual murder or human sacrifice, often accompanied by the claim that the blood of the victims is used in various rituals and/or acts of cannibalism” (Wikipedia).  Blood libel this is not.

3. While I do not agree with Friedman’s Hama comparison, it doesn’t qualify as defamation by any means.  It’s only commentary because he doesn’t go into motive.  Nowhere does he actually say that Olmert is the Israeli Assad, or that Israel went into Gaza/Lebanon with the aim of killing innocent civilians.  If you didn’t know anything else about Friedman besides what he wrote in this particular column, you might even think he believes that Israel disregarded civilians, but only because it had to protect its own people.  But he doesn’t say that, either.  He says nothing.

My second big problem is that Boteach whines and complains that Friedman criticizes Israel and not America:

The United States rains hellfire missiles on Taliban and al-Qaida leaders in Afghanistan on a regular basis, blowing them to smithereens along with their wives and children. On May 21, U.S. airstrikes killed Mustafa Abu al-Yazid, the No. 3 leader of al-Qaida. His wife and three children were killed with him. Friedman never condemned the attack…

Where is Friedman’s column condemning Roosevelt, Truman and Churchill as monsters who ordered attacks on Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan “without being deterred by the prospect of civilian casualties”? If Friedman ever writes the column I’ll eat my yarmulke. That triumvirate today are regarded as three of the greatest statesmen of the 20th century.

1. Silly Shmuley.  Friedman doesn’t need to condemn Roosevelt, Truman, or Churchill, because hundreds have done it already.  There’s no visible rift in America between those who support the United States’ decision 65 years ago to bomb Japan and those who believe it was wrong.  As a Generation Y-er, I personally don’t think about it much myself because in this day and age it doesn’t have much relevancy to current discussions.  It’s the same for the al-Qaida incident.  The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is intractable and unique.  People on both sides are equally fervent, zealous, passionate, and committed to their cause.  It’s an anomaly.  No one in the United States, quite frankly, gives any thought to the families of the terrorists in Iraq and Afghanistan.  All of the liberals and democrats just want these wars to end.  It’s sad that we don’t care about what happens to the wives and children of terrorists in those countries, but those are just the facts.  9/11 was also unique.  It brought the American people together, and no one disagrees with the federal government’s decision to fight the terrorists, However, there is widespread and passionate disagreement among the international community about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.  Two very different countries, two very different situations.

2. What, exactly, does “If Friedman ever writes the column I’ll eat my yarmulke” mean?  I know it’s supposed to be one of those “when pigs fly” expressions, but it’s weird and not good writing.  Where is the copy editor?

My third (and last) problem is Shmuley himself.  Why did JTA give free reign to a guy who contributes to TLC?  He’s no politico, U.S. foreign policy expert, or Israel/Middle East expert for that matter.  I fail to understand why exactly his commentary and arguments matter.  Not that JTA is particularly prestigious for its writers and content, but they could have done better with someone like Amb. Dore Gold.

I have two articles in today’s thin and almost non-existent paper!  The first one is in the front page section:

Oiled Pelicans get plenty of attention at north shore wildlife sanctuary

As the wildlife rehabilitation centers in Fort Jackson and Grand Isle continue to have to turn away volunteers who are not certified to work with animals rescued from the Gulf oil spill, the volunteers at one north shore facility are having a completely different experience…

The second one is the metro section centerpiece:

Little-known Corner of City Park will showcase La.’s natural habitats

A nature preserve smack in the middle of City Park is the latest attraction to undergo a major overhaul after being badly damaged by Hurricane Katrina.

Couturie Forest, a little-known area of the park, will double, growing from 30 to 62 acres with an expansion that includes Scout Island at the forest’s southern tip…

Just thought I might scare y’all a little bit with that title.  I am indeed going to the West Bank next week, but not that West Bank.  I think New Orleans might be the only city in America with a West Bank, which makes it very confusing for a New Orleanian like me who’s obsessed with the Middle East.   So.  The West Bank.  It’s like being in a different country, compared to the other (and better) side of the Crescent City Connection.  The only thing the West Bank has that we don’t is better Vietnamese food.  But I digress.

The Times-Pic has a small bureau in the West Bank and one of its reporters is leaving New Orleans for New York City with her local news anchor fiance.  Another reporter is on temporary loan to the Howard Avenue office (where I work) so he can do oil spill stories.  Thus, the bureau is soon to be understaffed, and I am its newest team player.  Friday was my last day at the fancy office with its cafeteria, marble trimmings, and antique printing press.  I know nothing about the West Bank, except for how to get to the West Jeff hospital.  I’ll have to start carrying around enough cash so that I can pay the bridge toll multiple times each day.

At the same time, I am excited for new adventures in suburbia.  I will essentially be a full-time reporter, always on assignment and always writing stories, but of course I will not be compensated.  This is much better than spending some days writing all day, and then others twiddling my thumbs.  Honestly, I’ll be glad not to have to call the coroner at 7:30 a.m. to get IDs on murder victims.  But hopefully I can take on some weekend shifts at Howard Ave. to compensate for the void that can never be filled by the West Bank bureau.

In the meantime, I’ve been told I get to help out with the annual bar guide, so that’s exciting.  And I might be going back to Israel soon, but I’ll only reveal the details on that if it pans out!

Finally, a new analysis of Israeli policy!  A lot has changed since President Obama took office, and Haaretz diplomatic editor Aluf Benn has divided it into four stages:

1. Crisis: “Israel gets entangled in an international crisis over use of force that some consider excessive, or due to new construction in the settlements or in East Jerusalem. ‘The world’ demands that Israel be punished and Netanyahu begs the U.S. administration to rescue him.”
2. Pressure: “U.S. President Barack Obama takes advantage of the opportunity, and demands that Netanyahu make concessions to the Palestinians and reign in the settlements in exchange for American help.”
3. Cave-in: “Netanyahu caves in after putting up symbolic resistance to Obama’s demands or buying a little time.”
4. Agreement: “The prime minister’s zigzag makes no waves, not even a ripple, in the coalition. No one attacks Netanyahu on the morning radio talk shows. Benny Begin, Moshe Ya’alon, Eli Yishai and Avigdor Lieberman, who certainly oppose the government’s frequent policy shifts, cling to their seats in the ministerial septet. Netanyahu treats them with respect, convenes them for worthless discussions that go on for hours and in the end gets what he wants: Everyone is committed to a decision that Obama dictated.”

A classic flip-flopper, indeed.  Let’s take the freedom flotilla example:

Likud is pro-blockade all the way.  And I get that, because I don’t want Hamas to get their hands on materials for bombs.  The only problem is that you can make a bomb out of virtually anything.  Just watch “Fight Club.”  So apparently, “Netanyahu claims that three months after he formed his government, he actually proposed a loosening of the civilian blockade and that this was in fact done in bits and pieces, until the flotilla affair forced Israel to open the transit points to all civilian goods,” which I think happened last weekend or the weekend before that.  In this case, Obama did not necessarily demand that Netanyahu make concessions to the Palestinians and reign in the settlements, but he held firm in his stance that Israel must end the blockade on Gaza.  Amazingly, no one from the coalition made a fuss.  I would have at least thought Lieberman might come out with a worthy sound byte.  A recent poll indicates that a majority of Israelis stand behind Netanyahu, but does this now also mean they stand behind America’s position?  “In the face of Obama his roar turns into a whimper. He makes speeches about our historical rights and then does what the Americans dictate.”

I find it hard to respect a government that acts like this.  When Netanyahu bends to the U.S., he does not take into account the people who elected him based on the Likud platform.  But the rest of the world doesn’t respect this government for a different reason, which is that “the international community will reject any political initiative by his current government.”  Everyone wants to see Netanyahu bring Livni into a national unity government and accept Olmert’s 2008 peace plan, but that’s not happening, either.  Kadima insists on the land for peace principle, while Lieberman and Likud want to trade populated areas of Jews and Palestinians, thereby keeping some of the West Bank, which for the Palestinians is simply not an option.

As foreign dignitaries continue to press Netanyahu to lift the blockade “completely,” whatever that means, he lost his chance to stand up to the U.S. a long time ago.  And it’s odd that his fellow Likudniks are just falling in line with whatever he says.  I remember what Benny Begin said back at the JCPA briefing a few months ago, and I can’t imagine him not sounding off publicly on the dramatic easing of the blockade and causing a huge uproar.  Something is amiss.  Perhaps there’s another corruption scandal brewing.  Maybe they were offered kickbacks or vacation homes in the Greek islands?  Now that would make a good headline!

If you’re from New Orleans, you know the iconic Blue Dogs, and you know George Rodrigue.  After Friday’s events, two of them are gone:

An unidentified man stole about $40,000 in Blue Dog paintings by world-famous artist George Rodrigue last week when he entered the artist’s gallery at 730 Royal Street, walked to the rear with a shopping bag and grabbed two canvases off the wall…

Read the rest here.  Also, see that “Follow” link below my byline?  Click it.  And by the way, this assignment was really fun.  Art heists are juicy!

Day 4: Blogger wakes up with sympathetic butterflies in her stomach because Dad is giving his big speech today.  MDRT bands playing again, and Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” is somewhere in the lineup.  This blogger knows all of the words, thanks to “Glee.”  First speaker at Main Platform is Juliet Funt, the daughter of the host of the television show “Candid Camera.”  Blogger could not care less because Dad is up next.  Dad getting the mic put on him in the Green Room and a family portrait:

Dad does a fantastic job:

His tie pops, and it proves to be a good choice when his upper half is blown up on the big screens:

Everyone claps and cheers.  Dad is mobbed (mostly by Asians) as soon as he comes off the stage, and everyone makes a point of telling the blogger how proud they are of her Dad and how he did such a great job and that she should be proud of him too.  The blogger has an earth-shattering revelation: Dad is cool, and he actually has a lot of friends.  Bravo, Dad!

After Dad, a married couple of opera singers tell their inspirational tale of love and survival in the face of the husband’s near-decapitation.  He was supposed to never be able to speak again, but he does and can even sing.  No visible scars attest to the innovation of plastic surgery.  Husband uses acronym of FOCUS to talk about something, but talks about the “F” for at least 10 minutes.  Speech is way too long.  Then he sings a self-penned kitschy inspiration song about being “a phoenix on the rise.”

When Main Platform ends, Dad is approached by Israeli conventioneer.  Wendy interjects and tells said conventioneer that the blogger just returned from a year in Israel and that she wants her to speak Hebrew to him.  Conventioneer is already trying to tell Dad about some meeting in Eilat he must attend, and then he speaks to the blogger in Hebrew, asking her where she lived, what she did there, and asked her to try to persuade Dad to go to Israel.  He is pushy and aggressive, the most endearing and repulsive of Israeli qualities.  The blogger is happy to have seen and spoken to someone from the homeland, but does not enjoy being put in uncomfortable situations.

The blogger immediately hits the gym, and then returns to the convention center to participate in the Million Meal Challenge.  MDRT members and guests can sign up for shifts throughout the convention to pack meals of soy, rice, and vegetables for the undernourished populations in developing countries.  MDRT does meet the goal of packing one million meals, and it is quite the operation:

Afterward, the blogger returns to Robson St. and finds a nice dress at Roots.  She is satisfied that she has had that essential Canadian experience.

All of the grandparents take the grandchildren to Cioppino’s, voted Vancouver’s second-best restaurant.   Cioppino’s is in Yaletown, Vancouver’s version of Manhattan’s meatpacking district, and serves impressive Mediterranean and Italian cuisine.  From there, everyone taxis to the UK/Irish party, hosted by said countries’ conventioneers at a venue close to the hotel.  This party is famous for being a bit wild and rambunctious.  The blogger uses her free drink ticket for a Bailey’s on the rocks, attempting to tap into her inner Irishwoman.  Wendy and Dad eventually arrive after attending the Japan party, where Wendy was forced to give a speech with an interpreter at her side. There are photographs of the mic being shoved in Wendy’s face as she displays expressions of horror, but the blogger chooses not to embarrass her by posting them.  The Japanese send Wendy and Dad away with Hello Kitty key fobs for the blogger and Emily.  Very Japanese gifts.

While the parents say the Japan party was lovely and civilized, the Irish/UK party is quite lively.  Irish Riverdancers perform, the band plays some more, and everyone is on the dance floor:

The blogger persuades Dad to dance with her:

She also shakes many hands and kisses many cheeks.  The family is eventually “kicked out” when the party ends around midnight.

Day 5: Last day of Main Platform!  This time, however, it’s in the afternoon, so the blogger jogs to Stanley Park and through some of the trails inside.  Main Platform is particularly interesting today, the best program of the three days.  But first, the almost-decapitated opera singer comes back and sings an inspiration song, followed by a rendition of his favorite aria.  The blogger’s head is about to self-decapitate.  But haven’t you ever wondered what an almost-decapitated opera singer sounds like?  Well, you’re about to find out.  But please, exercise extreme caution when adjusting your volume:

One speaker is Patrick Ireland, an MDRT member who survived the shooting at Columbine in 1999.  Next is Tom Morris, “the world’s happiest philosopher” and a former professor at Notre Dame who preaches to the audience about his “Seven C’s of Success.”  She is not impressed and considers him to be an insult to academia and to the field of philosophy, a sell-out who just writes self-help books.  The Chicago Tribune obviously had a reason to investigate him for allegedly making his exam questions too easy so that his student athletes would pass his class.  Finally, former television host Ross Shafer talks to the audience about “customer empathy.”

During the break, the blogger finds this little guy in the Green Room:

Dinner at the upscale but trying-too-hard West, where rhubarb is an ingredient in everything, including the oddly gelatinous amuse bouche.  Dessert menu is too confusing, so the blogger and Emily opt for  simple room-service dessert instead.  Cheesecake and chocolate fudge cake a la mode are infinitely more satisfying than complicated poached pears and frozen chocolate crème brulée (isn’t crème brulée supposed to be burned?), both of which include rhubarb, of course:

Day 6: Dad wakes up early for the last sessions.  The convention officially ends mid-morning.  The blogger has a lazy morning engrossed in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, but is eventually inspired to be productive and writes the preliminary draft of her Fulbright project proposal.

Dad joins the family for an afternoon in Granville Island:

Dad looks relatively incognito in jeans, as he has been wearing suits for the past few days, but conventioneers also touring the island recognize him and he shakes many hands.  The blogger considers looking into hiring a private security firm for Dad.

Barbecue at a past president’s gorgeous home in the Kitsilano neighborhood.  Last attempt at persuading Dad’s friend and ExComm colleague Scott to show her the secret handshake of the Delta Tau Delta fraternity, of which both were members.  Early to bed for Friday’s travels.

Day 7: Peace out Vancouver!  Everyone is exhausted and ready to return to the real world, but already excited for next year’s Annual Meeting in Atlanta.

I know this is a little late, but last Friday I interviewed U.S. Secretary of Commerce Gary Locke about his trip to the Gulf Coast to survey the economic damage caused by the oil spill:

U.S. Secretary of Commerce Gary Locke said the Gulf of Mexico oil spill is having a wide-ranging negative impact on the seafood and tourism industries, and that President Barack Obama is demanding that all federal agencies redouble their efforts to address the spill.

“We need to get the word out that the seafood that’s still being commercially harvested is safe to eat and that the closure is limited,” said Locke…

Read the rest here!

My accounts of chilling with the Grand Poobahs, exploring Vancouver, and more at the MDRT Annual Meeting.  Part I:

Day 1: Wake-up at 4:15 a.m. to make 6:30 a.m. flight to Dallas, where we connect to Vancouver.  Arrive in Vancouver and taxi to Fairmont Waterfront, where we are taken to the Royal Suite to wait while our luggage is taken to our rooms.  View of the harbor (or harbour, if you’re speaking the Queen’s English, which they do in British Columbia) from suite’s balcony:

Everyone is exhausted but in desperate need of exercise.  Logical conclusion is to go shopping on nearby Robson Street, but because Wendy is leading the way they end up walking all the way to English Beach:

En route to the beach, however, the party runs into a naked bike ride:

On the way back to the hotel, a trip to Lululemon Athletica, the Holy Grail of fine yoga and exercise wear in Canada that the blogger’s Winnipeg friends introduced her to. Wendy buys cute yoga pants for the blogger, and she is ecstatic.  But fear not, for said pants will never replace the Nike shorts.

Back at the hotel and convention complex, conventioneers are already swarming the premises even though the festivities don’t officially begin until Sunday evening.  The Asian delegations seem to be the most excited:

Dad’s parents take the grandchildren to Chambar, a chic Belgian restaurant.  Grandmother Good orders beer for the table and the blogger is surprised, never having known her grandmother to drink the stuff.  Though the beer is Trappist and not a Grisette of the strawberry variety, the blogger approves.  Blogger also has first taste of local salmon:

In bed at 8:30 p.m. because the time difference is killer and wake-up call for the next day is 6:30 a.m.

Day 2: Blogger cannot sleep after the sun shines through the curtains and wakes her up at 5:30 a.m., so she hits the gym before breakfast in the Gold Lounge, where Sunday New York Times is available.  This makes the blogger very, very happy.

At 10:30 a.m., family sans Dad walks to different hotel for Top of the Table “lecture” by Joshua Cooper Ramo, the managing director at Kissinger Associates, a strategic advisory firm.  As in Henry Kissinger.  He is the youngest Managing Director in the history of the firm, but before that he was a journalist and the youngest senior editor and foreign editor in the history of TIME Magazine.  If only this blogger could aspire to that cool factor.

Blogger is introduced to Mr. Ramo by her father, who tells him she wants to be a political journalist.  Mr. Ramo asks her questions and appears to be genuinely interested in her life.  Mom makes sure she is perfectly positioned for candids.  Blogger also tries to take some photos, but is still getting used to her new camera.  Dad and Grandfather Schornstein, who mentored him when he first started in the business and persuaded him to join MDRT:

Mr. Ramo gives his talk, complete with impersonations of Henry Kissinger (“Joshua, what is Facebook?”  “Joshua, should I get a Twitter?”  “Joshua, can you help me with my RazBerry?”), and the blogger is very impressed.  During the reception, she is able to personally tell Mr. Ramo how much she enjoyed it, and asks him about the greatest environmental catastrophe in the history of the United States.  Mr. Ramo says he thinks it’s not being handled well by either BP or the President.  Blogger is satisfied with this answer and name drops U.S. Secretary of Commerce Gary Locke.  Wendy again invades blogger’s personal space to snap posed photo of the pair:

At the reception, the blogger also meets the rest of ExComm (the Executive Committee), some of the past MDRT presidents, and a lot of Dad’s closest MDRT friends.  They are from everywhere: Belgium, Australia, the UK, etc.  She realizes that she will never have to stay in a youth hostel ever again.  It is noted that MDRT has its perks even for non-members.

After the reception the blogger, Wendy, and Emily take a walk along the harbor and the seawall:

Readers may remember that the Winter Olympics were held in Vancouver.  Sighted during the walk was the Olympic Cauldron, which held the Olympic Flame, against the backdrop of the new convention center:

Walkers eventually end up at Stanley Park and see some Native American totem polls:

Opening reception is held that evening in the new convention center, and attendees are ripping up the dance floor to the sounds of the MDRT bands, groups formed by members that play annually at the conventions.  Cute factor of these bands and the people dancing to them is noted, as is the karaoke station outside:

Attendees also enjoy partying in their native dress:

Convention center is gorgeous:

Dinner is at Raincity Grill, which the blogger and her family had gone to years ago when they were last in Vancouver.  In rare turn of events, Dad is able to join after attending a few more receptions.

Day 3: Main Platform begins at 8 a.m. sharp.  Blogger once again rises early, but this time jogs outside along the harbor.  At Main Platform, blogger and her family are escorted to the front, where they have reserved seats in the second row:

MDRT band playing as conventioneers enter the hall.  They rock out:

Convention officially begins with the flag ceremony, complete with Canadian Mounties:

Main Platform kicks off with John Foley, a former lead solo pilot of the Blue Angels, the U.S. Navy Flight Demonstration Squadron.  He is followed by “Canada’s doctor,” Dr. Marla Shapiro, and Mark Johnson, the founder of Playing for Change, which is a movement that promotes global unity through music.

During 20-minute break somewhere between all of those speakers, Goods and Schornsteins take advantage of their status to explore backstage and the Green Room, which has food and drinks and sofas.  Dad is mobbed during said break by people wanting to take photos with him, give him business cards/gifts, etc.  He is truly an international celebrity:

The blogger is not surprised when all of the Indians, Koreans, Japanese, etc. want to be in pictures with her, because Wendy said to expect that.  Wendy also said these people will show these photos to their families and display them proudly in their offices.  The blogger is intrigued because she too is a celebrity.

In the afternoon, the blogger tries to explore historic Gastown with Wendy, Emily, and Grandmother Schornstein, but the exhaustion is too much and she returns to the hotel for the most glorious of naps.  Dinner is at Bishop’s and, once again, excellent “surf” is had by all.

That night in the elevator the blogger spots an Orthodox conventioneer wearing a navy blue yarmulke embroidered with the words “MDRT Minyan” in white, as per the logo’s color scheme.  Wendy asks him if they have a minyan every day, and he responds, “we try.”  Cute factor of these yarmulkes and the men wearing them is noted:

The blogger wants to get one for Dad.  She knows that he will wear anything that says “MDRT” on it.  Coming up in Part II: Dad’s big speech, an Irish party, and one million meals!

I went to the zoo today, to write a story about the cutest, most adorable baby primate and her first birthday.  Excerpt below, complete text of the finished product here:

The guest of honor ripped open her presents and tangled herself in pink ribbon, just like any other precocious toddler might do on her first birthday.

But this wasn’t just any 1-year-old. It was Menari, the Sumatran orangutan that has fascinated visitors at the Audubon Zoo since she was introduced to the public as an adorable, 3-month-old baby in September.

So. I’m going to Vancouver for all of next week to hang around the Million Dollar Round Table’s annual convention.  Some 6,000 financial advisors will gather at the convention center downtown.  Basically (or rather complicatedly), MDRT “The Premier Association of Financial Professionals, is an international, independent association of more than 31,500 members, or less than 1 percent, of the world’s life insurance and financial services professionals from 464 companies in more than 80 nations and territories. MDRT members demonstrate exceptional professional knowledge, strict ethical conduct and outstanding client service. MDRT membership is recognized internationally as the standard of sales excellence in the life insurance and financial services business.”  My dad has been a member ever since he went into the industry about 27 years ago and has always gone to this event, but this year he’s being inaugurated as the organization’s president!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Mazel Tov Daddy!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ergo, I get to go.  And both sets of my grandparents are going as well, so it should be a jolly good time.  I’ve been told, at least by my mother, that this event is unlike anything I’ve ever seen or imagined.  She says I’ll get to meet the “Grand Poobahs,” code for “important people” as per my mother.  I Wikipedia’d the term because I needed to know how to spell, and found that it comes from “the haughty character Pooh-Bah in Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado.”  Which leads me to a slightly interesting tangent, which is that my mom played Yum-Yum, one of the female leads, in her high school’s production of the musical.  Sorry if that’s too embarrassing to be on here, Mom.

I’ve only just started to think about next week, since the Times-Pic has become quite hectic.  As you all can imagine, there is tons to report on because of the oil spill.  Yeah, the oil spill.  You should watch Anderson Cooper’s show on CNN because he’s been doing it live from New Orleans every night for almost a week now.  I rode around in a golf cart this morning while I was on assignment, and there was a BP sticker on it.  I wanted to punch the windshield.  Fortunately for me, Mom decided to stock up on Dirty Coast’s newest designs protesting the spill.

I’m bringing my computer with me to Vancouver in the hopes that I can do some blogging from there.  Haven’t you always wanted to know what a financial advisor convention is like?  Of course you do.  Alrighty then, I’m off to Drago’s to get some of the last Louisiana oysters, because the motherf*cking oil is tainting ALL OF OUR SEAFOOD.  Tomorrow morning I get to do a phone interview with U.S. Secretary of Commerce Gary Locke, so hopefully I’ll find out just how bleak the seafood industry situation is.  Also, if you’re local, and even if you’re not, check the paper or nola.com, the living section, to see my article about Menari the orangutan.  Before today, I thought it was spelled “orangutang.”  And I think I’ll stop now.