Baby, It's Cold Everywhere

It’s hard to think of a Christmas season song actually offending anyone, but “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” has managed to do it. The classic holiday tune is heard by some as sanctioning date rape. At first, I was in the “Oh, come on now” crowd, but I guess I can see their point. That said, this doesn’t seem like the best battle to pick.

But it IS a good excuse for me to offer you a little Christmas allegory about the types of men women encounter. It goes like this: It’s holiday shopping season, and a locked car is parked on a city street with a brightly decorated package clearly visible in the back seat. We don’t know what’s in the package, but the wrapping is impressive and attracts attention. Four different men walk by.

The first is doing a business deal on his phone. He sees the package, says, “That’s nice,” but keeps walking and returns to his phone  He’s busy. The second guy, sees the package, says, “That’s nice. I want that, but it's not mine and hasn’t been offered to me, and I’m really not a candidate for it.” He walks on. The third sees the package, stops, says “That’s nice. I want that. Maybe if I hang around nearby for a while, the owner will show up and I can persuade her to share it with me.” Finally, the fourth man appears, stops, says “That’s nice. I want that. And because I want it, I’m entitled to it!” He smashes the car window to steal it.

OK, so we all know that the last guy is a bad penny, but what about the other three? We could give the first man credit for resisting temptation, but he simply had other priorities. The second guy may be the mensch of the group. He is tempted by what he sees but but resists on principle. The third guy hopes to get what he wants by following what he perceives to be the rules. Maybe he’s a nice, normal, charming individual -- or maybe he’s just a manipulator.

So what’s the point here? It’s that to face the modern world as realists, women must prepare themselves ahead of time for how they are going to respond to any of the kinds of men crossing their path, and there are certainly more than these four. There are good ones out there. Men, for their part, can ask themselves what a real man might appreciates in a real woman. And adults in general must make it a priority to teach children what successful relationships are and what their role in them will be as they grow up. It’s way more than about fixing song lyrics.

Naming, Blaming, and Fading

You have no doubt heard by now of the drive to remove the Zuckerberg name from the San Francisco General Hospital and Trauma Center. The new building was made possible in part by the $75 million contribution from Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg and his wife. But lately Mr. Zuckerberg’s name is MUD. Or at least he’s picked up some on the soles of his shoes, largely because of the Cambridge Analytica scandal and the seemingly cavalier way in which Facebook handled users’ information.

It’s hard these days to get a name to stick on things. In the San Francisco Bay Area, the home of the Giants ballpark has had three names since it was built: Pac Bell Park, SBC Park, and now AT&T Park. For a while, the late legendary Candlestick Park was Monster Park, after a prominent manufacturer of electronic cables.

Events change names, too. I spent some time in Palm Springs, in  an area that is the site of  many. The now-well-known Palm Springs International Film Festival, for a number of years, was known as the Nortel Networks Palm Springs International Film Festival, and an annual film achievement award was even named after the sponsor company’s CEO. Nortel went bankrupt a while back. The women’s golf tournament once known as the Colgate Dinah Shore is now called the ANA Inspiration. The Bob Hope Desert Classic became the Bob Hope Chrysler Classic, and then his name fell off.

It’s one thing when names just fade into history, and another when history turns on them. The famed Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton University almost lost its name when it was determined that President Wilson was something of a racist. These days, many iconic figures of the past have been found to have had unacceptable flaws or were simply on the wrong side of history. Maybe the safe thing to do is not to name anything after anyone. Or, paint the names on with watercolors, so they can be easily washed off.

I have had only one thing named after me – a sandwich in a local restaurant that has long since closed. I didn’t care what they actually put in it, as long as they held the mayo.