Starting Five

1. BOOM!

Yes, the tragedy on Boylston Street is horrific. Three dead, 144 wounded. Awful and outrageous. We’ll get to that. Meanwhile, last Friday in Washington, D.C., your congressional “leaders” repealed the STOCK (Stop Trading on Congressional Knowledge) Act. Unanimously. The act, passed last year, would have required federal employees earning more than $119,000 a year to disclose their financial dealings in an online database as a means of preventing insider trading by powerful, well-connected government officials.

At the time President Obama said, “The idea that everybody plays by the same rules is one of our most cherished  American values. It’s the notion that the powerful shouldn’t get to create one  set of rules for themselves and another set of rules for everybody else, and if  we expect that to apply to our biggest corporations and to our most successful  citizens, it certainly should apply to our elected officials—especiarlly at a  time when there is a deficit of trust between this city and the rest of the  country.”

According to official records the bill was passed within 10 seconds of being introduced in the Senate and within 14 seconds of being introduced in the House. If there were a 24-second clock on Congressional bills…

Why so fast? Why no debate? Do you want to be the Congressman who goes on record saying that you are in favor of keeping the public in the dark as to how you are turning your $174,000 salary into an annual income that is five to ten times that? Those words will come back to haunt you come election time. But damn if that bill didn’t get passed unanimously and quick.

Now it’s up to President Obama to put his money where his mouth was last year and veto it. It will probably still pass –they obviously have the votes — so Obama will likely veto it knowing that his veto is immaterial here. Will he raise public awareness of it, though?

Full disclosure: government officials must still disclose dealings of greater than $1,000 within 45 days of the transaction, but it will no longer be available on an on-line database. It’s just going to be that much harder to locate this publicly available info. Then again, some public advocacy group will likely create a website that makes all this information readily available on-line to you and I, won’t they? So what was the point of Congress’ action?

2. “We’ve had an attack” — Steve Silva, videographer

You know the details. We had the most evocative photo and the most salient video and the name of the runner who stumbled up on this site yesterday afternoon, long before the cable and network news channels had them. Not because I am a terrific investigative reporter, but rather because I pay attention to Twitter. Instead of rehashing the event — we all saw what happened — I’ll ask some questions and make some observations designed to provoke thought.

— It’s 9 a.m. on the East Coast and we all know that an eight year-old boy was killed and that his name was Martin Richard. That’s truly sad. He was cheering on his father, who was running the marathon, and the family is from Dorchester, Mass. His sister lost her leg. We also know that two other people were killed but we know nothing about them. Male or female? Adult or children? White or not? Isn’t it incumbent upon the news channels to at least inform us that they have no specifics about whom the other two victims are at this time? If they don’t know, they should inform viewers. If they do know, they should not single out the eight year-old boy as if his life were more valuable. It does draw in viewers, though, doesn’t it? (UPDATE: I just heard Lester Holt say, “One of the three dead, an eight year-old.”)

— What is “terror”? Besides being an alarmist term, I mean? From what we hear it no longer takes a group with the amassed scientific skills of the Manhattan Project to develop a pipe bomb. No one knows who perpetrated this act. It may have been a foreigner or a domestic with a political agenda. It just as easily could have been a nihilist like Adam Lanza, who killed far more people last December. Is it terror if you use a bomb instead of a gun? Is it terror if you target a well-known site or event as opposed to a school? A crime is a crime is a crime is a crime. What’s “terror” got to do with it?

–Last night I was combing through columns looking for one that captured the pathos and gravity of yesterday’s heinous crime and a city’s resilience (I’m like a poor man’s Richard Deitsch; literally). The best story I found was writtenby Kevin Cullen of the Boston Globe.

— I know, I know, I know. It’s far down the list of “what’s important.” But I’ll mention it. Extremely Handsome Man Adam Scott won the Masters on Sunday (Clay Travis described him as “The man your wife or girlfriend would rather be with than you”) and the glistening rain combined with his killer biceps would make for a great Sports Illustrated cover. On the other hand, Boston occurred on Monday afternoon for a magazine that closes on Monday night. And I’ll add that managing editor Christian Stone is a Tufts alumnus (assistant managing editor Steve Cannella is a Boston College graduate). I’ll be curious to see how SI handles this from a cover perspective.

—Mike Barnicle, Boston Globe columnist: “This was as if someone came into your living room and attacked you.” True. And you can ask the native Americans who lived in what is now Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island between the years 1620 and 1650 how that feels. Read Nathaniel Philbrick’s “Mayflower” some day when you get the chance.

–Days such as yesterday remind us how much more valuable our time is spent devoting ourselves to careers that help make the world a better place. The police, the first responders, the doctors and nurses who worked tirelessly through the night attempting to save lives and limbs. None of them lose any sleep wondering if they are happy or not, I bet. Something for younger readers to think about and consider.

–The 78 year-old runner who stumbled and fell at the moment of the blast, Bill Iffrig, rose and finished the race in less than 4 hours and 10 minutes. He finished second in his age group and a 4:10 at that age is incredible. Said Iffrig, “When you get that close to the end of the marathon, you’re going to finish.” Good for him. Iffrig, who has been on the earth some seven decades more than Martin Richard lived, was probably no more than 10-15 yards away from Richard when he was killed. That’s life. It’s not supposed to make any sense.

— “Thoughts and prayers.” I apparently incited a furor on Twitter amongst some of my (former) followers for suggesting that a tweet of “thoughts and prayers” is a hollow act of piety. Last summer, in the premiere episode of “The Newsroom”, anchorman Will McAvoy rolls his eyes while reporting on the BP oil spill after a second corporation sends out a release noting that its “thoughts and prayers go out to the victims.” My point isn’t that people tweeting such thoughts do not care; it’s that typing those words, from an emotional standpoint, is the equivalent of the $20 gift certificate as a Christmas present. It’s tantamount to a Costanzan donation in your name to the Human Fund. It’s the most convenient and unimaginative form of grief. It is boilerplate.

And let’s be honest: Is this grief? Did you know these victims? Or do you just feel the need to be involved because you “saw it on the TEEEE-VEEEE?” Nobody with a heart is anything but devastated when watching the video, and knowing that innocent people lost their lives and limbs in that attack. But “thoughts and prayers” translates, at least to me, as you wanting the world to know that you have a compassionate soul. Last night I read a tweet from actor Wendell Pierce. He wrote, “Prayers of peace to the world. Peace of spirit to those around the world who have lost a loved one to violence today. May you be blessed.”

See what Wendell did there? He actually conveyed both a thought and a prayer.

— Yes, April. Specifically, mid-April. The hour of Waco, Columbine, Oklahoma City, Virginia Tech, and yes, Lexington and Concord. And now Boston. It is one of the best months of the year, the true advent of spring and the regeneration of life in the natural kingdom. So why has it developed this notoriety for nihilism and violence?

3. Mad Men

You are welcome to your opinion, but for me the show is at least three times better when it focuses on the spreadsheets as opposed to what’s going on between the sheets. The philandering of Don Draper and Pete Campbell plays a role in the narrative, but the office scenes are magic. They are Sun-Tzu meets the Wernham Hogg Paper Company.

Roger Sterling does not appear in Sunday’s episode until it is two-thirds over, and before he even utters a line, his admiring grin during the meeting between SCDP and Jaguar may be the show’s most rewarding moment. Roger’s smirk says it all: Look at Don Draper talking out of both sides of his mouth at the same time, overtly obeying the craven request of a New Jersey Jaguar dealer — a slimy creep whom he loathes — to persuade the corporate overlords to refocus their campaign locally while simultaneously destroying the idea with the words he uses. Roger’s admiring grin is the same one you and I are wearing at home, marveling at the brilliance of the scene.

And to think that the dealer tells Pete Campbell afterward, “He’s (Don’s) no salesman!” HA!

When Roger finally has a chance to talk to Don, in Don’s office, he says, “That may be the finest act of self-immolation I have ever seen.” Don: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Then Pete enters and admonishes Don: “Why can’t you just play by the rules?” Don, who can be so idealistic and ethical professionally (and when it comes to Joan), locates a metaphor and tells Roger and Pete, “This is Munich.” Pete, decade or so younger than his veteran/military veteran partners, replies, “You guys are always talking about Munich. What the hell does that mean?”

Roger: “It means we gave the Germans whatever they wanted to make them happy, but it just made them want more (a syndrome that Megan Draper and Trudy Campbell can relate to).”

And then Pete’s retort: “Well, who the hell won the war?”

If that isn’t the most Pete Campbell thing ever said, I don’t know what is.

It’s a perfect television moment, from the board meeting –where Don suggests putting Jaguar fliers in the Sunday paper– to this confab in Don’s office. Mad Men does not get any better than that. What series could?

4. The HBO comedy special, Oh My God, a taping of Louis CK’s concert last February in Phoenix, Ariz., premiered over the weekend. If you had to introduce a stranger to the mind of Louis CK in just one bit, you’d want to refer him to “Of Course, But Maybe.”

5. Now, a treat. My 18 year-old niece, Kristen, a college freshman at Loyola Marymount, attended the Coachella Music festival last weekend. Like all writers who contribute to this site, she is more talented than its founder. Here’s Kristen’s report on her weekend of music and mayhem in the desert:

Coachella Vs. The College Student

by Kristen Walters

        Midterms, all-nighters, weekends, finals, parties, 20-page research papers. I consider myself to be an expert at all of these—just try and test me. I have Red Bull running through my bloodstream, I drink coffee like it is water, and sleep is basically non-existent. It seems as though nothing can stop me! I can’t be tamed!

            Nothing can stop me, besides Coachella, that is. I finally met my match this past weekend when I attended the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival held in Indio, CA.

            Let me start by saying that when I was at Coachella, I felt like I was on another planet (And no, I was not on ‘shrooms). Different types of live music everywhere I turned, so many young people just having the times of their lives, and even that picturesque ferris wheel that lights up the sky—it all creates an atmosphere unlike anything I have ever experienced.

            But not everything about Coachella is out of a dream. For instance, the plethora of hipsters roaming the grounds with their pretentious attitudes was straight out of a nightmare. I actually never minded the whole hipster thing until Coachella. To all the people hipper-than-I: Yes, I know you heard of them before me. Yes, I know I only know the words to that one hit song that’s overplayed on the radio. Yes, I am aware of how upset you are that this band is now becoming too mainstream.

            Also—a side note: I could have done without the girls in the flower head bands. This is not the 70’s and you are not at Woodstock, you are in the Sahara tent dancing to music that is made from a guy pressing buttons on his Mac.

            One other thing—put your phone away. I will never understand why people insist on recording the entire set on their iPhone. First of all, I assure you there are professionals taking pictures and videos that will be of much better quality than yours. Second, the Red Hot Chili Peppers are right in front of you! (And you are missing it because you’re so focused on your videotaping).  But at least you have that one video, right? I too would much rather have that video—that I will never look at again—than have actually enjoyed the moment and the music. I also love having your raised videotaping hand block my view the entire show. Love it.

(Editor’s Note: So my 18 year-old niece is Louis CK; I could not be prouder)

            People are so obsessed with their phones that at Coachella there is actually a charging station. Here, I stumbled upon a group of people sitting around outlets charging their phones. As I walked by, I could just feel their intense pain. 20% battery left? What an atrocity! It seems as though they would rather die than let their phones die.  

            But despite this, I have only good things to take away from my Coachella experience. Thousands upon thousands of people and I didn’t find myself waiting in line for a bathroom or for a bite to eat (by the way, the food was overpriced, but awesome). Let’s just say they really had their stuff together.

            There are six different tents/stages at the festival, including the main stage. All day long, bands and artists of all genres of music are performing. The great thing about Coachella is that one moment I was watching Band of Horses (an indie rock band), then I could go over and witness the wonderful talent known as 2 Chainz ( a rapper? I think), and then from that I could go into a tent where a DJ, such as Wolfgang Puck, is playing music and everyone’s dancing and going crazy. When there was no one performing I particularly knew of, I walked around to the different stages and found myself discovering new music everywhere I went. There is definitely something for everyone at Coachella.

            I would describe Coachella as a three-day party. I could also describe it simply as a college kid’s dream and a parent’s worst nightmare. It’s non-stop all day and you are either ready for it or you’re not. I brought all my energy—which is a lot—and at the end of each day I was completely drained. And by the end of that third night it was clear Coachella got the best of us.

            After having lived through three days of Coachella and all of its glory, we college students went from hyped, eager, wide-eyed animals dancing everywhere we went, to zombies literally covered in a layer of dust (thanks to a sandstorm that swept through Sunday night) walking slowly in unison toward the shuttles that would take us away from this dreamlike place forever. Or until next year, at least. I would go every year if I could. There really is nothing like it. I’m still trying to process it all.

            But I did find the college student’s kryptonite: 3-day music festivals. I have to give Coachella props because it might be the ONE thing on earth that can wear a college student out. Thousands upon thousands of them, at that.

Coachella: 1. College Student:0. 

            And I didn’t even camp.