Celebrated men of Monterey County: some thoughts on Leon Panetta and Clint Eastwood

Long post a’ comin’.

Leon Panetta is to be the new CIA chief, according to president-elect Obama’s transition office. Before I’d had a chance to read it on the wires or see it on CNN, my mother called me from Carmel with the news, describing herself as “overjoyed.” We’re big Panetta fans in our family; Leon Panetta represented my home district on the Monterey Peninsula from 1976 until 1993. Though my first political memory was of working for William Roth in the 1974 California Democratic gubernatorial primary, one of my earliest memories of political victory came when I “precincted” with my mother for Leon Panetta in 1976, when he upset incumbent Republican Burt Talcott to take over California’s 16th congressional district seat. I’ve only met him at fundraisers, but I went to high school with two of his sons, and the family — and the Congressman — were much liked and admired on the Peninsula.

Panetta is a fiscal moderate, a strong environmentalist, and a terrific policy wonk. Though he doesn’t have a background as a spy, he’s the ideal person to come in and restore restraint and responsibility to an agency that many believe has run amok under the Bush Administration. Panetta is the wise sort who will balance issues of national security with responsibility to the Constitution. I’ve already called Senator Dianne Feinstein, chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee, to express my strong support for Leon Panetta, and encourage my like-minded readers to do the same, or to email her here.

I’m also thinking this morning about Clint Eastwood, having just seen his new film Gran Torino. The connection between Eastwood and Panetta is a geographic one: both are men with whom I share a home town, Carmel by-the-Sea. (Eastwood was raised, however, in Piedmont in the Bay Area — the same town in which my mother grew up. Eastwood’s father was one year ahead of my grandfather at Piedmont High.) For two years in the 1980s, both held elected office, as Clint was a surprisingly decent mayor of Carmel for two years. And while Panetta was our most prominent politician throughout most of my youth, Clint has always been, for as long as I can remember, Carmel’s most renowned celebrity.

The first time I saw Eastwood on the street was in early 1983. I was not quite sixteen, and I had a learner’s permit but not yet a driver’s license. My mother and I were out for one of our afternoon driving lessons in the family car, a 1980 Datsun 210 wagon. Driving down San Carlos Avenue, I saw a familiar looking man step out of a Mercedes sedan, glance towards the oncoming traffic (led by me) and begin to jaywalk across the street. It was Clint, and I gasped in recognition. I also didn’t slow down, and forced Eastwood to do a double take and quicken his pace. My mother said “For God’s sakes, Hugo, don’t hit him”, and I carefully applied the brakes. I don’t think Clint was more than a little unnerved, but I do remember our fleeting eye contact. How ghastly it would have been had I struck him — and how different cinematic history might have been as well. After all, Eastwood’s greatest triumphs as an actor and director have come in the last two decades, well after our very brief encounter on the roadway a quarter-century ago!

In any event, I enjoyed “Gran Torino” very much, and in particular, I was struck by the wry way in which Eastwood used the film (which he both stars in and directs) to reflect on his long career and upon American masculinity. Because there are plot spoilers ahead, the rest of the post is below the cut. Continue reading

Two more cents on Rick Warren

The New Year is almost upon us, but there is yet time for a post or two in 2008. My wife and I have had a busy but happy Christmas season so far. We’re starting to make progress on our movie-going; basing our decisions on major award nominations, we see three-quarters of the films we will see all year in the period between Christmas day and the Super Bowl. I’ve already praised “Milk” here on the blog, and offer now enthusiastic endorsements for “Slumdog Millionaire” and the breathtaking, heartbreaking “The Wrestler.”

Almost everyone else has weighed in on Barack Obama’s decision to invite Rick Warren to give the invocation at the January 20 inauguration. I have little to add to the many voices that have spoken on the subject, save to say that I remain both frustrated and bemused by the mutual incomprehension that emerges at moments like this between secular progressives and more conservative elements in the country. It’s a gulf that Obama himself has promised, over and over again, to bridge. Bridge-builders will invariably arouse animosity from those who derive satisfaction from staying on their side of the fixed chasm that exists between the two sides in the culture wars. The wisdom of the Warren selection, from Obama’s perspective, may be that it serves to demonstrate his Solomonic remove from partisanship. The left is infuriated by Warren’s vocal opposition to same-sex marriage; many on the right are infuriated by the imprimatur that his invocation will give to Obama’s presidential agenda.

It is axiomatic that religious conservatives often have trouble grasping the various distinctions that divide the left. The right-winger who rails against “feminists” doesn’t know a “Marxist feminist” from a “liberal feminist” from a “radical feminist”, and probably isn’t clear on which “wave” women of Hillary Clinton’s generation belong to. It is also axiomatic that most progressives tend to see the religious right as monolithic. Theological divides (such as the famous one between Pentecostals and Southern Baptists which exploded in the PTL scandal two decades ago) often seem arcane and insignificant to those who don’t come from Christian backgrounds. As a result, both sides — if we can speak of there being only two — in the culture war caricature and misunderstand each other. (And my goodness, we don’t help ourselves with the shop talk. With feet in both camps, I may be reasonably comfortable talking about both “perfomative heteronormativity” and “supralapsarianism”, but really, it all gets a bit overwhelming for the uninitiated!)

Many folks on the left may not fully understand the degree to which Rick Warren is viewed with suspicion by the religious right. Indeed, as many commenters have pointed out, it’s not accurate to call Warren “right-wing” at all. He has, time and again, explicitly rejected the adversarial politics of an older generation of Christian conservatives (represented by the late Jerry Falwell and Jim Dobson). While remaining in the right-wing camp on issues such as abortion and marriage, Warren has consciously de-centered the purely sexual issues from his message. He has been willing to talk about AIDS, poverty and environmental degradation, making clear that his vision of Christian involvement in public life involves more than an obsession with pelvic morality. Many of the older generation of conservative American evangelicals, the sort who see the fight against abortion and gay marriage as “first among equals” in the struggle to remake America, are exasperated, even enraged by what they see as Warren’s willingness to grant moral equivalence to other issues.

It is also axiomatic that partisans are invariably disappointed by the presidents whom they successfully elect. Read old issues of National Review and Human Events from the 1980s; far from being a constant conservative darling, Ronald Reagan regularly aroused ire from the hard right during his administration. Similarly, the left will be frustrated by Obama time and again, chiefly because the gap between the promise and the possible always widens after inauguration day. But one particular way in which the left will be frustrated is by Obama’s dead serious commitment to healing rather than exacerbating the cultural divide that has so occupied this country. Choosing the immensely popular and affable Rick Warren, who is as close to a genuine centrist* as the evangelical movement has these days, is a signal of this eagerness to build consensus rather than increase division.

The GLBTQ movement is right to be frustrated by the passage of Proposition 8 in California, and to have a progressive president select a supporter of that initiative to give an inaugural invocation stings. Like it or not, we can assume that Obama meant it when he said he believed marriage should be reserved for heterosexual couples; it was wishful thinking that led some in the movement to assume that his words to that effect were only political posturing. As a result, the movement needs to push forward on the marriage issue at the state and judicial levels, and look to the Obama Administration for leadership on other issues. And there are other issues, ranging from protection against discrimination to greater funding for AIDS treatment to revisiting the unworkable and outdated “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy. Marriage equality will happen, but the nation’s 44th president has made clear that on this issue, he will be a follower rather than a leader.

*If the (white) evangelical right includes the like of Dobson, Richard Land, and John Macarthur, and the (white) evangelical left includes the like of Jim Wallis, Ron Sider, and Tony Campolo, then it’s safe to say that Rick Warren represents a middle ground on a wide variety of theological and political issues.

Seeing Milk, teaching Milk, celebrating Milk

Yesterday afternoon, I gave my last exam of the year; my History 24F (Introduction to Lesbian and Gay American History) class drew the lucky (or unlucky) slot of being my “final final”. After the test was done, I went with those students who were able to join us for an early evening showing of “Milk” at a nearby theater. They’ve been a particularly wonderful group this term, and I wanted to take in this important film as a class. (Thanks are due to Laemmle theaters, for selling me discount group tickets, and to Stephanie and Taylor, two of my students who work there.)

If I hadn’t wanted to see it for the first time with my GLBTQ class, I would surely have gone to see “Milk” as soon as I could have; I waited impatiently for last night, knowing that it would be so much better to take it in in the company of so many young people whom I love and admire. I was not disappointed.

Much has already been written about the film, and about Sean Penn’s magnificent portrayal of Harvey Milk. The supporting cast — especially Emile Hirsch, Alison Pill, and James Brolin — is superb, with nearly every actor bearing an uncanny resemblance to his or her real-life counterpart. And though I had shuddered when I heard that Gus Van Sant was directing this film, as I normally don’t enjoy his style, I loved this movie. Just as another director I don’t like much, Spike Lee, was able to get out of his own way and produce the brilliant and near-perfect “X”, so too Van Sant never gave us the sense that we were supposed to sit back and watch his genius at work. He gave us a wonderful, deeply moving, timely and immensely inspiring film.

Let me say, of course, that everyone who has not seen “The Times of Harvey Milk”, the 1984 Oscar-winning documentary about Harvey, ought to see that. Van Sant clearly drew inspiration from that film (and some archival footage as well), and it helped strengthen the picture. I’ve shown “The Times of Harvey Milk” to many classes over the years, and could probably recite most of the film by heart. (Now that I think about it, there are perhaps no other films ever made — documentary or otherwise — I’ve seen as often!)

Like a great many people, I feel as if I have a personal stake in the story of Harvey Milk. I was eleven years old, and in the sixth grade at Carmel Middle School, when he and George Moscone were assassinated. I had heard of Moscone; my family, living on the Monterey Peninsula, had many connections to what all my life we have called simply “the City.” I only vaguely knew who Harvey was; I was an unusually politically aware eleven year-old, however, and had done some precinct walking against Proposition 6. (As the movie shows, Prop. 6 was the measure that was defeated in November 1978 that would have banned gays and lesbians from serving as teachers). Harvey had led the fight against Prop 6, and as a result, I knew his name, but somehow hadn’t grasped that he was a San Francisco Supervisor. Continue reading

Some thoughts on “The Price of Pleasure” (with notes)

Several weeks ago, I was sent a review DVD of The Price of Pleasure. The film, by first-time director Chyng Sun, explores the impact of contemporary American pornography on men, women, and relationships* It is not currently for rent or in theaters, but it is out on a national screening tour. It will be screened, with a panel discussion, this Thursday, October 30 here in Los Angeles on the USC campus. Exact time and location have not yet been announced, though I am prodding.

Gail Dines and Robert Jensen, two celebrated anti-pornography feminists serve as senior advisers for the film (referred to as TPOP for the remainder of this post.) I wrote a long review of Bob Jensen’s most recent work here. Dines is founder of Stop Porn Culture, and organization for which I have considerable admiration.

TPOP is less than an hour long, but it took me more than a week to sit through it. The documentary features a considerable number of outtakes and excerpts from porn, and though genitalia are “fuzzed out”, the effect is still searing and for some, potentially triggering. As someone who struggled with porn addiction in the past, I wanted to be careful about how I watched and responded to this film. I was relieved to discover that I didn’t find myself in the least bit tempted to “relapse” on porn use as a consequence of watching TPOP. I can recommend the film as “safe” for most folks, though some of the sound and imagery is violent and deeply degrading. Potential viewers will need to weigh for themselves the risks and benefits of taking it all in. (It’s worth noting that some in the pro-porn world have complained that TPOP violates both copyright and federal obscenity rules. I’m not qualified to speculate.)

TPOP uses interviews with a wide variety of people: pornographers and porn actresses, men who use porn, women whose husbands or boyfriends use porn, and academic researchers who have studied porn. Pornography, we are told, is a $10 billion industry today, and thanks to the Internet and other technological advances, is far more ubiquitous than it was just a few years ago. One point that the film makes clear (particularly in an interview with Ariel Levy), is that today’s young people (those in their teens and early twenties) have grown up in a culture saturated with porn to a degree difficult even for those just two decades older to comprehend. Just as an eighteen year-old today cannot remember a time before mobile phones, so he or she cannot remember a time when porn was not “everywhere.” This jives with what I hear from the young people with whom I work; they describe porn as providing an “aduiovisual soundtrack” for their lives. Continue reading

Dirty Harry, vegan

Taking a break from a day of exercise, errands, and watching the women’s college world series to note this surprise from an article about Clint Eastwood in this morning’s Times:

People ask him to autograph rifles, but Eastwood is no Charlton Heston. A vegan, he was distressed to hear Hillary Rodham Clinton boast recently about bagging a bird. “I was thinking: ‘The poor duck, what the hell did she do that for?’ I don’t go for hunting. I just don’t like killing creatures. Unless they’re trying to kill me. Then that would be fine.”

I had no idea — but I am delighted to discover — that the former mayor of my home town (for whom I did not vote) was a fellow vegan. PCRM, Farm Sanctuary or PETA need to sign Clint up pronto. I’m already imagining some terrific PSAs.

On a only distantly related note, I saw a bear on my trail run this morning; there are still a few left in the San Gabriels, but it is always a spine-tingling delight to come flying around a curve and see one of these magnificent creatures just yards away. It, uh, made my day.

“Affirm and redirect”: how “Smart People” gets older men, younger women exactly right

The first post I ever wrote on “older men, younger women” was inspired by a movie, Love Song For Bobby Long. The most hits I’ve had on any post so far in 2008 was also movie-inspired: Age is Never Just a Number.

Right before we left on Spring Break, my wife and I went to see Smart People. It was a bit of a disappointment, largely because the two leads (Dennis Quaid and Sarah Jessica Parker) seemed miscast in their roles as a college professor and physician. The two supporting cast members, Juno’s Ellen Page and the sublime Thomas Haden Church, did their best to redeem the film. Church plays “Chuck”, a middle-aged ne’er-do-well who moves in with a widower prof (Quaid) and his overachieving daughter, Vanessa (Page).

Ellen Page is as pitch-perfect as ever as Vanessa, a socially awkward over-achieving young Republican who mothers her father and studies frantically for the SAT. Her monumentally self-absorbed father largely ignores her evident unhappiness — but uncle Chuck doesn’t. Chuck is troubled by his niece’s robotic, joyless behavior, and he starts a concerted campaign to get Vanessa to have fun. He gets her stoned one night, and then another night takes her to a bar. As they leave the bar, a tipsy Vanessa grabs her uncle and kisses him passionately. Chuck pushes her away immediately, horrified that she has misunderstood his interest in her. Much of the rest of the film (and indeed, the best scenes in this mediocre picture are all between Page and Church) is concerned with the way in which Vanessa and Chuck work through their awkwardness engendered by that kiss, and the way in which Vanessa comes to understand what it was and is she means to her uncle. Continue reading

Age is never just a number: on “Juno” and covert older men/younger women boundary violation

My wife and I finally got around to seeing Juno this past Saturday night. It was as delightful as promised. Other bloggers have already dealt with the issues of sexual agency and teen pregnancy raised by the film, and the question of whether the picture carries a subtle “pro-life” message has been widely debated. I’m not going to add to the fine commentary already out there. But I was struck by one aspect of the film that dealt with an oft-posted on topic here, older men/younger women relationships.

Warning: mild plot spoiler below the fold. Continue reading

“Fixin’ to make a fire in the dark and the cold”: some notes on loving “No Country for Old Men”

Though I haven’t been to see many films lately, the best thing I’ve seen this fall — hands down — is No Country For Old Men. Starring Tommy Lee Jones, Javier Bardem, Josh Brolin, Kelly Macdonald, and Woody Harrelson, it’s a rich, engrossing, and for me, deeply satisfying picture.

Before I saw the film, several friends who had seen it told me that they had loved the first two-thirds but “hated the ending”. I went into the theater with their warning in mind, but found to my relief and surprise that the ending was one of the best things about the movie. Plot spoilers below the fold, folks, so click at your own risk. Continue reading

Notes on Bergman, Walsh, sexual decision-making and homosociality

I’m in my office with a big stack of summer grading to do, and thus little time to post. I’m scatterbrained more than usual, perhaps knowing that once I’m done grading, my real vacation begins!

I’m reflecting this morning on several things, including the deaths of Ingmar Bergman and Bill Walsh. When I was in college, I watched (at my mother’s insistence) a tape of the former’s “The Seventh Seal”. I was transfixed and moved and stunned, and more than two decades later, it remains one of my favorite films ever made. I’m not a movie buff, and most of the rest of the Bergman oeuvre leaves me cold, but I watch “The Seventh Seal” at least once a year.

Bill Walsh coached the 49ers throughout my adolescence; I was raised a loyal Niner fan and followed them obsessively throughout the 1980s. My interest in professional football began to diminish just as Walsh retired in 1989. I don’t think I can name more than three current players on the 49er roster; I can still recall — without prompting — the names of each player in the marvelous 1984 secondary (Wright, Lott, Williamson, Hicks.) Walsh was my coaching hero, and though he was a head coach at Stanford, my fellow Cal alums know that long before he served in Palo Alto, he was an assistant coach at Berkeley in the early 1960s.

But in addition to thinking kind thoughts about these two very different influences on my adolescence, I’m also struck by this New York Times article on The Whys of Mating.

…thanks to psychologists at the University of Texas at Austin, we can at last count the whys. After asking nearly 2,000 people why they’d had sex, the researchers have assembled and categorized a total of 237 reasons — everything from “I wanted to feel closer to God” to “I was drunk.” They even found a few people who claimed to have been motivated by the desire to have a child.

Here’s the good part:

The results contradicted another stereotype about women: their supposed tendency to use sex to gain status or resources.

“Our findings suggest that men do these things more than women,” Dr. Buss said, alluding to the respondents who said they’d had sex to get things, like a promotion, a raise or a favor. Men were much more likely than women to say they’d had sex to “boost my social status” or because the partner was famous or “usually ‘out of my league.’ ”

Dr. Buss said, “Although I knew that having sex has consequences for reputation, it surprised me that people, notably men, would be motivated to have sex solely for social status and reputation enhancement.”

Well, it may have surprised the good doctor, but it isn’t a surprise to any of us who do gender studies. I’ve often praised Michael Kimmel’s use of the term “homosociality”. Homosociality is the notion that many heterosexual men engage in sexual activity as much to earn status with other men as for sexual pleasure itself. Having sex with women (particularly those who are perceived as “high-status” in the eyes of male peers) is as much about increasing the measure of one’s own manhood as it is about private satisfaction or erotic and emotional connection with another human being.

The study cited in the Times was done on students at the University of Texas, Austin. The men surveyed were generally of college-age, a time in men’s lives when they are particularly susceptible to homosocial pressures to win status. This study is a helpful reminder of the ubiquity of those pressures — and of the damage that homosociality inflicts on men and women alike. For those of us committed to working with teens and young adults, it’s still more incentive to focus our efforts on deconstructing young men’s desperate, heart-breaking, soul-destroying desire to win favor in the eyes of their male peers.

Challenging homosociality is near the top of the priority list for me in my men’s work. For those of us who want to be genuine egalitarians, what matters is not merely what we profess. Men who want to be real change agents need to treat women (and speak about women) the same way when they are “alone with the guys” as when they are in “mixed company.” Many women know what it’s like to have a boyfriend who is sweet and charming when she’s alone with him, but a jerk when he is surrounded by his friends (this is usually her bitter introduction to homosociality.) The great challenge is to be radically consistent, to be the same man always — with the brothers of Delta Kappa Epsilon, with one’s grandmother, with one’s girlfriend, with one’s teachers. I’ve seen young men achieve this time and time again, but rarely without colossal effort, and rarely without earning scorn from their peers. But there’s tremendous value in matching one’s language and one’s life. The damage that not doing so creates is equally tremendous, and the fact that women often bear the brunt of that failure is difficult to deny.