. . .Onto the field
Dateline—in the basement watching “The Pink Panther” (1964) with the kids, Portsmouth RI, 10 April
End of a long day. Got up this morning and headed to Providence Place Mall with my son to update my wardrobe—actually to buy my first suit in a decade. Indicative of how long it has been since I bought one, I actually asked the salesman at Nordstrom’s where the double-breasted suits were. They don’t carry any at this time. Oops! Hard to look suave recovering from that one. Fortunately, the industry replacement for tall guys, the 3-button suit with no vent, was made for me. So I stocked up and got a tuxedo to boot (already set to use the latter in NYC in a couple of weeks when my Mom is up for an Edgar for her non-fiction study of female protagonists in mystery literature), laying out the bucks in my first actual in-person purchase of clothing for myself in the new millennium. True to my form, I’ve basically worn out all my suits to the point where I’ve got actual holes in them, and then, mustering a manly head of steam, I march into a men’s department and replace my entire wardrobe in about three hours. My wife’s threats to burn my old suits could have been a trigger, but I don’t wanna go there . . ..
In a way, though, buying new suits was an even bigger step for me personally. Suits to me always meant DC, or, since 1998, going back to DC. When I came to the War College I was clearly running away from DC and all it represented to me at that time—both professionally (the chronic negativism) and personally (my firstborn’s long struggle with cancer there). With my gag reflex (physical, not ideological), I really try to avoid collars and ties whenever possible, so “Newport casual” at the college was just perfect. To return to DC on business, which I did with great frequency, meant suiting up and going back into that gladiatorial arena—basically a negative experience.
But the book coming out in just 17 days puts me in a different frame of reference: I am returning to the world (okay, just New York, DC and Boston on my three-city media tour). I am reconnecting with a sense of ambition and a desire to generate deep change in the world around me. The book is a serious statement of who I am, what I know, what I believe, and where I want to go—as a person, nation, planet. I am suiting up now because I am gearing up for that future worth creating.
My Dad’s recent death only lends impetus to the whole affair. I thought of him several times as the tailor marked my coats and pants—you are never really the man until your old man dies. The man needs a suit to conduct the business at hand—the selling of a book, a vision, a future.
If I sound like I’m trying to talk myself into getting psyched, I am. I’m comfortable enough with who I am and where I am in this life that I can easily handle this book doing poorly. When I want to think about serious disappointment and despair, I think of my parents losing sons #2 and #3 before son #1 hit five, wondering is they were doomed to kids with birth defects and should stop trying to have any more.
I was their 8th child. Imagine how many days my old man got up and put on the suit to generate not just the income but the abiding faith that led that young couple all the way to having me a decade after burying two babies in the ground.
In short, I do feel like I’m here for a reason—if only to pay back that sense of faith and optimism during hard times.
We are having hard times in this global war on terrorism, and in this rule set reset that American society has endured since 9/11 the System Perturbation threw all our conventional wisdom in flux. Not surprising, Washington is busy doing what Washington does best at these moments: dither. So we have investigations and testimony and accusations and counter-accusations and almost no decision-making of note—just posturing on all sides.
So it seems a day of great cynicism as I survey stories from the NY Times (I get the Post mailed days later and no Wall Street Journal to scan today):
“Afghan Route to Prosperity: Growing Poppies,” by Amy Waldman, New York Times, 10 Apr, p. A1.
“The Parallels of Wars Past: In Lebanon, Israel Saw the Ghost of Vietnam; And Some See, for the U.S., a Lebanon in Iraq,” by James Bennet, New York Times, 10 Apr, p. A1.
“China’s Martha Stewart, With Reasons to Smile,” by Howard W. French, New York Times, 10 Apr, p. A4.
“Sony Pictures Buys Richard Clarke’s Book for the Screen,” Sharon Waxman, New York Times, 10 Apr, p. A17.
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