With the buzz surrounding the verdict on the Isiah Thomas' sexual harrassment case, I suppose it is just about time for our friend Al Sharpton to plant his face on our television screens. What does he want now? An apology for Thomas' apparent permission for use of the word "bitch" between members of the same race.

First of all, there are far worse words that one can use if one has bad feelings about someone. The word itself is rather benign. The Oxford English Dictionary gives the following:
1) a. The female of the dog;
b. The female of the fox, wolf, and occasionally other beasts.
2) a. applied opprobriously to a woman; strictly, a lewd or sensual woman. Not now in decent use but common in literature. In modern use especially a malicious or treacherous woman; of things: something outstandingly difficult or unpleasant ("son of a bitch.");
b. Applied to a man (not common);
c. A primitive form of lamp used in Alaska and Canada.
3) Combinations and attributes, as (sense 1) bitch-puppy, -whelp; (sense 2) bitch-baby, -clout, -daughter, -hunter, -son; bitch-daughter (obs.), the nightmare; bitch-fou a. (Sc.), as drunk and sick as a bitch, `beastly' drunk; bitch-goddess, in William James's phr. (see quot. 1906); cf. success sb. 3.
4) A mining instrument used for unscrewing rods or recovery of broken rods.
verb
1) a. To frequent the company of lewd women;
b. To call anyone "bitch;"
c. To behave bitchily towards.
2) a. To hang back (rare);
b. To spoil, to bungle. Also as "botch;"
c. To grumble, to complain.

Of course, the "lewd or sensual woman" definition is the source of the sexual harassment suit against Isiah. However, my bet is that his use of the word about Ms. Sanders in reality was as a "malicious or treacherous woman."

What does Al Sharpton have to do with any of this? Besides to ride on the coattails of a public spectacle and create more public anger than already exists?

In the late 1980's and 1990's Sharpton's presence was important in bringing justice to Brooklyn gang members who took part in racially-motivated beatings. Sharpton played a critical role in the way hate crimes are viewed and managed in this country. His experience as manager for James Brown gives Sharpton a public marketing angle in trying to raise public awareness. He was instrumental in the 1986 Howard Beach protests when three African-American men were assaulted by a white mob. Sharpton also raised awareness and staged protest in the 1989 Bensonhurst attacks on four African-American teenagers and the subsequent shooting of one of them.

His methods, however, sometimes create more public unrest, anger and violence. It is common for him to accuse his target first in the public eye without having investigated to see if there is validity to his accusation. This type of "trial by press" incites rage and sometimes violence.

Perhaps the most famous of these is the 1987 case of Tawana Brawley, the then 15 year old woman from Wappinger's Falls who fabricated an elaborate racially-motivated abduction and sexual assault. There was glaring evidence that she had not been kidnapped or harmed. In fact, witnesses saw Brawley at parties during the time that she was ostensibly "missing." Under the leadership of Rev. Sharpton, the investigation became a witch hunt against members of the police and local government. Given the nature of the evidence, it is likely Sharpton and his team suspected the abduction was a fake. Yet, they pressed on, harming many innocent people in the process.

The incident did catapult Sharpton's public image and made him the celebrity he is today.

So why does this man now choose largely benign name calling as his rally point for action? Is the use of words like "bitch" and "ho" cause for public demonstration and outrage? Are there so few issues deserving of our attention that we must get riled up over this?

Or is Sharpton merely coasting? He thrives on media attention and seeks it wherever he can find it. But, perhaps our dear Reverend is no longer courageous enough to tackle the larger issues which gave him that celebrity in the first place.

When Czar Alexander commissioned Carl Faberge to decorate an egg as his Easter gift to the Empress Marie, in his wildest dreams he would not have imagined what my family does each year at Easter time. 

Easter morning for us means "egg fights."  When my father was a young boy, he and his friends would gather, each holding his respective egg competitor.  The boys would then knock the eggs against one another (round side to round side or pointy side to pointy side).  The egg that broke was the loser and would be forfeit to the owner of the winning egg.  The winning boy would go home with several gems.  Competition was fierce.  Dad tells us he would treat his egg with wax in order to gain advantage.

For as long as I can remember, we've held these contests every Easter.  No longer do we give up our eggs to the winner, but there is surely a sense of competitiveness at the table and beforehand.  We sneak to the refrigerator prior to the day and test eggs with our teeth.  By the time breakfast arrives, we've already chosen our eggs.

Several years ago, during our pre-Easter coloring session, someone cut a photo from a newspaper and glued it to his egg.  This launched yet another tradition.  Instead of simply coloring or decorating our eggs, we now create an egg community each year.  We use feathers, pom-pons, pipe cleaners, eyes, pens, paint and other materials to create characters for the Easter table.  The new recruits are then photographed and placed in our egg archives.

Here are some of our eggs from this year.  Happy Easter!

"Pleased to meet you.  Hope you guess my name.  Ah, what's puzzling you is the nature of my game." - Rolling Stones

I am enjoying dinner last week with some friends at Blue Ribbon Sushi.  It is a terrific group, composed of physicians from across the country, some of whom were raised in other nations.  During our meal, Greg poses the question:

"Who is the most recognizable athlete in the world today?"

Now, Greg is a golf fanatic.  In answer to his own question, he offers Tiger Woods and Vijay Singh as options.   Immediately, Thomas suggests David Beckham, which is quickly seconded by me and two others.  Lance Armstrong's name is thrown on the table, along with that of Michael Jordan and Derek Jeter.   

As conversation progresses, other athletes are named.  Muhammad Ali, who was considered the world's most recognizable athlete during his reign as Heavyweight Champion, is added.  Mike Tyson tags along in that category, and is quickly dismissed.  The sport of tennis is suggested by Eric, but we are unable to agree on the eponymous tennis celebrity.  Jimmy Connors?  John McEnroe?  Stefi Graf?  Agassi?

Our "conversation" evolves into a full-contact argument.  Greg holds fast to his golfer celebs;  states that Singh would oust Beckham on the worldwide scale.   Thomas counters by saying that if Singh showed up in his hotel room to make up his bed, he would have no idea who he is.  I admit I would likely do the same.

We never agree on one person.  But I pose the question later to my family, and then to a few other friends.  My brother, his girlfriend and my sister vote emphatically for Michael Jordan.  "Not because of basketball, but because of product endorsements."  Steve and Stephen place Beckham and Woods in a tie.  Everyone tips a hat to Muhammad Ali.  Graf is the only female mentioned.

I hold deep respect for professional athletes.  The discipline and effort needed to augment raw talent to their level astounds me.  And when these stars continue to work hard despite tremendous incomes and endorsment contracts, they ought to be held up as examples.  And athletes compete outright.  When they win, they increase their celebrity.  There is some way to judge who are the "greats" and the "not-so-greats."

But an offshoot of this debate is another question of celebrity. 

"Who is the most recognizable person in the world?"

Tough one.  One person blurted out the name of the King of Pop, his majesty Michael Jackson.  But what about Zhang Ziyi of China?  The ultra-famous stars of Bollywood?  Sheer population in those areas catapults those folks to near the top. 

What I draw from these discussions is that our exposure to celebrity in all areas is overwhelming.  How are we to process all of the images we see?  

Not so long ago, within my lifetime and within the reach of my adult memory, appearance on TV or in a movie was a great honor.  With the expansion of cable television, the internet and media in general, the average person is given the chance be seen in these places.  No longer is attention reserved for those who move up through the ranks of entertainment, or politics.  We as an audience are subjected to thousands of new faces per year.  How are we to know which are the keepers anymore?

Does the flooding of our senses dampen the impact of true celebrity?  Gone are our old cues.  So how do we know who deserves our attention anymore?  What yardsticks do we have in this arena?  Actors don't win or lose.  Politicians may lose even after they have won.  Alternatively, they may gain celebrity in spite of having lost.

In the end... who decides?  Movies?  Television?  Nike?  Or us. 

"I watched with glee while your kings and queens

 fought for ten decades for the gods they made.
I shouted out, "Who killed the Kennedys?"

When after all
It was you and me."

So I've moved.  New apartment, about the same square footage as before, with a different layout.  Furniture fits better, in fact.  At least now my bed is not in the center of the room.  Hidden around the bend.  A small bend, but a bend at least.  Not an invitation.  Some privacy.

This building has a gym and a pool.  there are thirty-four floors.  Hundreds of people I don't know.

I live in a box in the sky.  My  box.  A nice view of the Manhattan skyline.  Central air.  Quiet.  This is my space.  Closet space.  Cabinet space.  Cyberspace. 

So exactly how much space does one need? At the turn of the century New York saw a tuberculosis epidemic.  Wealthy folks went to the mountains or to the seaside for "fresh air."  Contemporary medical thought held that TB could be treated or avoided by providing a certain amount of air for each individual.  The tenements in NYC are testament to this philosophy.  These were built to accommodate the needed twenty-five square feet of air required per person.  The buildings had air ducts and windows placed in order to accommodate this need. 

Today, we crave space.  We crave privacy.  Americans expect to have apartments, cars, offices, all to ourselves.   

One Summer in the 1980's, during university, I worked for a non profit organization  in Philadelphia which brought foreign Social Services professionals to the U.S. as an exchange program.  My project involved the expansion of the program to include High School students.  An entire  class of students from Omiya (near Tokyo) came to Philadelpha for two weeks.  Each student was housed with a family in the metro area.    

Japan and its culture were a black box during that time.  We learned much about gift giving and modesty from our guests.  Their English skills were certainly better than our Japanese;  my phrases were limited to "watch out!"  and "I don't understand." One day, a tire blew out on our van.  When a trucker stopped to help us, these children dug frantically in their pockets for gifts to give to this man in exchange for his help.  He left with packets of gum, keychains, paper flowers and candy in return for his kindness.

The hardest adjustment for these students was not the language or the in-your-face culture, but the luxury of space.  These students were from well-off families.  They had the latest clothing and gadgets.   But the sight of an open field or an empty backyard was shocking.  Our guests thought their host families were royalty.  A swimming pool!  In a backyard, no less!  My humble undergraduate apartment, which I shared with three roommates, was colossal.  We had our own bedrooms.  Two bathrooms for four people.  The students were awkward;  they did not know how to maneuver without bumping and crowds.  To compensate, our guests chose to walk in a huddle, constantly in contact with each other.

And these were Japanese students.  A well-developed economy.  A wealthy nation.  We had no liaison with students from China or India.  We were not in touch with any high school in El Salvador.  I can only guess how those children might react to us and our twenty five (plus) square feet.