Schadenfreude takes a holiday … to Augusta National

It was the best of times and it was … the best of times, baby! That is if you happen to be a devotee to grisly god of Schadenfreude.

Oh my, how we were laid low (temporarily) as El Tigre resurrected the double-clutch fist pump after a Sunday eagle putt @ 8. His nifty par save on 9 appeared to grease the existential skids of redemption + kick-start something that might gladden hearts in multitudes of Shoney’s waitresses throughout this great ‘all-you-can-eat buffet’ nation of ours … but NO!!! The dark deity of delight from others’ misfortune played a trick on Mr. Woods meaner than arthritic Phil Mickelson forced to wolf a pile of tofu burgers.

Sunday 2011 Tiger = 36 (even par) on back 9 = no real ‘stones’ when reaching stated desire of “just being in the mix” coming down the stretch = “A big no-can do on that 1 year delayed comeback, Houston” = borderline snarky post-round interview (yet again) with CBS = his new monogram should be T4A3 for ‘Tied 4th Again At Augusta’. Yeah, baby!

“Oh, mighty Shiva (or insert here deity name of whomever you deem most appropriate as his obviously needed new religion’s top dog), how can you disappoint me so”, Tiger was heard to wail, no doubt, Sun. night back at his P.O.T.S. (Piece On The Side) compound just outside Augusta proper. To use Tiger’s own ad nauseam comment on state of his swing, yeah, you’re real close, buddy … to almost same degree that Col. Mohmar Gaddafi anytime soon will be tapping his 401K & additionally satisfying his reputed need for Ukrainian ‘side action’ by retiring to FL’s ‘The Villages’ – with, by the way, highest +65 STD rate in entire U.S. ... but, I needlessly digress.

Seriously, I'm sure Charl ‘I’m the So. African major winner not named Player, Els, Goosen nor Immelman’ will be a great champion. Look at how dominant last So. African to win the Masters has been ... Ahem. Nevertheless we’ll all be pouring cement around this hypothesis in not too distant future when, by sheer coincidence, gas is expected to return to to $2/gal., Egyptian Sandals resort slated to open & Pres. Trump tapped for NAACP's Medgar Evers Man-of-the-Year award.

Those pinpoint prognostications aside, it was a great - best in years - Master’s. By the numbers: 8 different men held/shared lead on Sun., 5 tied simultaneously on back nine, 4 different hole web-cams available via Masters.org & 2 CBS commentators still believed Rory McIlroy could regroup before permanent ‘Shank City’ citizenship conferred to that mop-headed potato-meister.

Rory, Rory, boiled potatoes, Rory, Rory … Understood that you're just an innocent casualty of the toxic karma leaping about group ahead on Sunday, but … good God man, buck it up out there!

Tom Watson still leaves, each Augusta round, a peanut butter & jelly sandwich on 13’s tee for his late Caddie, Bruce Edwards. [B.E. used to nibble on such there because of its isolation from galleries.] If wiley Kansan had made cut, old looper's ghost Sun. would have been munching on soggy bread thanks to Ulsterman’s personal waterworks following tee ball frolic with Rae’s Creek tributary.

This is the Masters, young Mr. McIlroy, not the final scene from ‘Old Yeller’; get grip/act accordingly. If still weepy, rent copy of 'The Limey' & mimic main character - excepting accent - repeatedly.

Sure, I'm a bit hard on the lad. One would think, however, his growing-up amidst paramilitary & perhaps seeing some relative parading around in camo + knit ski mask, might have done the trick in backbone area, eh? Guess Rory was at bar getting a round of Guiness pints for his mates when proverbial brass potatoes were handed-out. Oh well, never to fret as shaggy Rory's horizon of links dominance about as extended as John Ensign’s senatorial career. Very next week, new Euro hotshot – Matteo Manassero – waxed R.M. on final day to become first whipper-snapper to win 2x before 18th birthday.

Moving forward, expect Rory is reduced merely to cuttin’ sod for barely post-pubescent Itai’s roof (so to speak). Besides, at least younger of these ball-strikers knows how to get his hair trimmed properly and not look like ‘Spicoli’ audition material for No. Ireland cast of ‘Fast Times At Ridgemont High’. [River-dancing subs for surfing in this imaginative off-shoot]

Re youth's prospects in general, it should be noted that David Bowie 4-some of ‘Young Americans’ – 'Little Rickie' Fowler, Hunter 'Chipper' Mahan, Bubba (no nickname needed) Watson & Dustin 'Fuggly Face' Johnson - all failed to show-up competively at this year’s 1st major. Furthermore in post Magnolia Lane news, lattermost dude, Dustin Johnson, self-entered for yearly dumb-ass Tour Player competition with May ‘Golf’ magazine profile.

After admitting hands-on involvement - as a 16 year old – to help steal a gun, buy bullets for it & that gun later being used in a murder committed by someone else, lanky lad was asked about status of his longtime Caddie, Bobby Brown. Usually club-toters don’t come-up in such pieces, but his man on the bag still being blamed for not cautioning Dustin better during 2010 PGA Championship debacle and/or earlier failure to settle down So. Carolinan @ frightful US Open final 18. “His job is secure,” definitively stated Dustin ... until “deciding to part ways” announcement broke literally before magazine's next issue could hit stands.

What a tool! 'F. Face' DJ comes-off as punk in interview. F-bomb flies repeatedly as this intellectual lightweight’s catch-all adjective. Reminded of Donnie Brasco explaining myriad uses of fugetaboutit.

Long-ball hitter didn't, suprisingly, decide to take talk show 'complete spilling-of-guts' approach in mag story. Instead Mr. Johnson neglected to reference his 2009 DUI shortly after 1st Tour win nor address indirect PR lynching of LPGA’s lovely (see left) Natalie Gulbis earlier in '11. [Blonde club-swinger said she was in relationship with D.J., but he later ducked claim when his main squeeze found-out].

Excrement - pure + simple = Dustin Johnson. Shall we nominate this obvious & odious character midget as newest target for No. American Schadenfreude fan club? "Here, here!," says my best amigo below.

Why I can’t be on ‘Saturday Night Live’ (despite being Canadian)?

Pres. Obama today is in Mumbai to announce support for India’s bid to get a Security Council seat. Lead news picture shows American leader being greeted by current Prime Minister, Manmohan (surprise, surprise) Singh. Immediately I envision skit where Barack + Biden are ‘The Departed’ Eye-tai’s from “down Providence way” in shakedown of turban-wearing Southie luncheonette owner who finally retorts, “You say you’re my friends, but you don’t even know my name; it’s Singh, m*th@r-f&ck@r”. Sarah Palin as Billy Costigan then gets-up from counter, makes a little small talk paying tab, but subsequently pantyhose garrotes two Dems (while painfully breaking-off several nails in process) ...

Now that’s comedy. Much like my Geico-voiced [“Is a bird in the hand worth two in the bush?”] imagined public service announcement demanding cable’s ‘Sunrise Earth’ program be banned ASAP because suicide hotlines ring off hook during broadcast. While a California Condor (see handsome rascal right) prances in hi-def for 15 minutes building its precarious nest, some hapless/overly sensitive Latte-swiller no doubt watches from a lukewarm bath. Don’t need this kind of Crate & Barrel partisan voluntarily taking him/herself off tax rolls; too valuable vis-à-vis future fiscal outlays. Stack sides of the dock like cordwood with ex-Meth addicts if we must “thin the herd”, but keep quality disposable income dispensers away from programming prone to sharp implement wielding. At this point in bit, cut back to our annoucer walking off set in sheer disgust ... [What can I say? That Gandhi bit of my persona just refuses to be sublimated!]

Again, unlikely to ever receive (originally-dubbed) 'Not Ready For Prime Time' broadcast despite the rather attractive Maple Leaf tatted - take my word for it - on my posterior (underneath Tim Horton logo, of course). Sad … much like Debra Winger ‘New York Times’ magazine’s projectile-vomit inducing profile this past Sunday. Jeez! And I like the minx! ‘Forget Paris’ is one of my minor favs + I paid to see ‘Terms Of Endearment’ when going to fill-ums actually was enjoyable. Holy Peter, Paul & Mary, what the hell happened to this whacky gal? Gives Kathleen Turner certifiable run for fruitcake centerfold and now she pines for nothing less than a comeback? Oh yeah. About as much chance of that happening as Eliot Spitzer ever regaining any spot of prominence in a form of legitimate media ... Ahem. Back to wing nut at hand, so to speak, what I’d really like to see is Debra Wingy-dingy do a full-out ‘Urban Cowboy’ sequel.

Maybe such was referenced later in piece, but I had abandoned after 1st nine paragraphs as quickly as suitable latex protection jettisoned by (just referenced) NY ex-Atty. General during his various ‘Client 8’ non-connubial encounters. I envision that in 2nd installment – of ‘Urban Cowboy’, that is - Winger/Sissy could be ex-Enron employee, Travolta gets job on BP rig in the Gulf to get away from her (again) & final scene @ Gilley’s set amid a memorial service for Anna Nicole Smith, another Houston native. It has got to be green light city, buddy, on that script treatment … whoever gets me onto Cypress Point wins rights.

5 degrees of Kevin Bacon time for Winger: 1.) D.W. was “Wonder Girl” to Lynda Carter’s TV “Wonder Woman”; 2.) Carter is married to Robert A. (not Roger C./Whitewater) Altman; 3.) R.A.A. partner of Clark Clifford during BCCI scandal; 4.) Clifford was White House counsel to Harry S. Truman; 5.) Truman sold-out (rest of) Eastern Europe to “Papa Joe” Stalin @ Potsdam conference. Ergo Debra Winger is not only a Commie once removed, but next to only Paul Robeson in pantheon of those who willfully turned a blind-eye to Soviet atrocities!!

Quad erat demonstrandum, as we used to say “years ago when we had the church, which was just another way of saying we had each other … I don’t want to be a product of my environment, I want my environment to be a product of me!”. Sorry, I can’t get ‘The Departed’ Frank Costello voice out of my noggin. Sure that it has nothing to do with watching first 5 minutes on YouTube roughly 23x over past several months. Waffle House waitress last Tuesday asked if I’d like bacon or sausage patty with my scrambled cheesy eggs? I answered, “What I’m saying to you today is this: When you’re facing a loaded gun, what’s the difference?” Still somewhat shocked I was asked to leave.

Apologies, all, for my absentia during past 6 months. Some changes in my personal doings left less time than previously, skin grafts unfortunately didn’t take as well as anticipated but, most sadly, my FoodTV pilot – ‘Chuck Norris’ Iron Chef’ – didn’t get picked-up after all that hard work!

Concept was recipe-creation smoothly coupled with post-judges food presentation bout of full-body contact karate. Each competitor to get, too, kitchen tool of their choosing (excepting poultry cleaver) for close-quarter combat. Aggregated score or opponent's removal by ambulance determined winner, but network HQ panty-waists concerned sponsors might balk at “Kitchen Stadium” turning into quasi-gladiatorial pit of flying paring knives + roundhouse kicks for 5 minutes.

"Why is this world so slow to see such manifest brilliance?," I cry helplessly to heavens. :)

Top Ten remarks heard by a "Flipper"

Recently my blushing bride has become a closer friend to a lady who prefers ladies. Of course your humble scribe has taken this development in the proper context – as possible welcome respite to his Caucasian mate’s seemingly near-jungle level libidinal drive. Ahem.

Hoping to fuel the possibility of a swerving of a sort, ever am I mindful now of data to support any potential crossover. Along those lines a recent TV show inadvertently provided manna to the proverbial gods when a young lass was evaluated in general for possible dating potential.

In the course of a rather saucy interview, the androgynous looking gal admitted that she was known to be a “Flipper”. This term – for the less than ‘Ellen Show’ hip amongst you – applies to a female switch-hitter who prefers prowling for prospective bedroom playmates in the opposing team’s locker room, so to speak. Apparently great relish is taken by said females from the act of “flipping” a heretofore straight lady to the Sapphic side of the ledger.

[Side note: Interestingly much of lingo used in TV show on subject was akin to describing how intelligence agents were “turned” back in Cold War's good old days. Of course in latter scenario the commentators were the ex-Ivy League boys from Langley. Hmmn.]

Based on above, your intrepid scribe has delved more deeply into this subject and can publish the 1st Top Ten list of well-known verbal reactions from the prey of “Flippers”. Below covers only those on U.S. continental shelf. I imagine inclusion of my former homeland to the north would necessitate at least one entry which referenced this year’s Y chromosome-less Canadian gold medal winning hockey team & threading a puck thru the pads with greater aplomb than Wayne Gretzky in his prime, but I needlessly digress.

#10 “Guess I shouldn't have made fun of my high school gym teacher.”
#9 “Do I have to like K.D. Lang now?”
#8 “I never knew it could be like this … ever!”
#7 “Death to the enslaving phallus!”
#6 “I still get to shave my armpits, right?”
#5 “If only my ex-boyfriend could see me!”
#4 “Will this improve my fashion sense?”
#3 “My God, what a cheap, cruel & meaningless lie I’ve been living!”
#2 “This won’t make me start buying Judy Garland CD’s, right?"

..., and a drum roll please, ...

#1 "Does this actually make me a lesbian?"

As pre-call girl D.A. Eliot Spitzer used to say in New York, "The Prosecution rests."

"Yeah, but how funny are you in 'real' life?"

A query your scribe is posed on routine basis due to excessive mirth inspired by defly-crafted ripostes populating blog presently being read. To answer above as best as possible, offer below as 'Exibit A'.

It is an actual work e-mail from this past week to one of my subordinates (Samantha) who familiarly starts all her e-mails with salutation of "Hey". 'Sam' was requesting authorization for one of her colleagues so that something somewhat consequential now could be done in one of the myriad software systems my groups must navigate. It should be noted that this e-mail copied all the individuals involved in this mundane administrative task + others named in my reply.

Usually a simple "Approved" w/ the muckety-muck's name put on the form, is the e-mail received to such requests. [As in this electronic age, only $ obligations above the cost of an Arturo Fuente Opus X (see left "family" shot) require actual signatures.] At least that's what the IT representative mentioned to me the next day while still, obviously, confused about getting below. Ah, but where's the joy in life then?

Hey Sam!
I much prefer corned beef hash to ham.

On the form above I have affixed name that I am.

Tonite I’m takin’ the Blushin’ Bride for a Denny’s Grand Slam.

Usually put pepper jelly on my biscuit rather than any kind of jam.

Although unfortunately not a Southern man by birth, still tend to call ladies above 18 ‘Ma’am’.

If Alexander K. put a device on top of my computer to record my day, it no doubt would have to be called a ‘Genius Cam’.

My intelligence compared to Mr. Doug P.'s has got to be roughly same distance as the water at the bottom to the top of the Hoover Dam.

... and as Stephen Wright's character once said, "The hits just keep comin' on K-BILLY & the Super Sounds of the '70's!".

Making FaceBook mirth over the holidays ...

Because below will be deleted no doubt, I spotlight a soon-to-be fleeting post your scribe put upon a friend's FaceBook 'Wall' concerning her father's impending European trip to see her husband & herself plus a request of the Dad on my behalf. The picture of 'Eggs' B. was included in my effort for - at the very least - the sheer jauntiness of the Papal chapeau donned.

By the way, can you get Denny [Father] - whilst our fav Catholic Prof. is in Europe - to straighten-out current Archbishop of Rome - 'Eggs' B. - on his quixotic attempt to beatify Pope Pius XII.

My pastrami pals from Carnegie Deli can't comprehend why someone who turned a blind eye to gas chamber deportation of +1K of their tribesmen right under Vatican's nose (literally), is now being coddled for canonization? Sholom.

If schadenfreude were net wealth, I'd be Warren Buffet right now!

Oh my. Ambien-induced sex with skank choir of not-so-stealth surrogates & all-capped by a cover-up not orchestrated this poorly since Betty Currie tried taking Monica's blue dress to dry cleaners!

Never liked Tiger; didn't dislike either. Found Eldrick boring in comments & too cautious/bland [Hah! (looking back)] for lack of public stands (such as not opposing Augusta exclusion of women). Also - per man's POV - his on-course behavior is poor. Cursing perturbs as kids hang on his every syllable, but it's his perpetual petulance at less than Zeus-like results which prove most grating.

What was obvious is Tiger has been constructing a public persona to project him beyond the golf realm, specifically into politics. Earl Woods, his father, admitted this. I had no truck with such; Tiger is a demonstrably intelligent chap. His plan to accomplish this lofty non-graphite ambition was carefully calibrated - only wholesome endorsements for El Tigre, a (vainly) self-named 'Foundation' focusing on children's education + a non-edgy public persona that oozed vanilla appeal.

Fine; "No harm, no foul". Point taken that a truly charitable person would not have set-up a whole other infrastructure to benefit public, but, instead, just would have cut a check to one of the hundreds of already-going good works concerns. Ulterior motives have their place to benefit the public weal, as Locke wrote, so this can slide. Turned-out however that another English chappy of yore, 'Mr. Shakey' of Public Theatre fame, would provide line which proves to have most penetrating (pun intended) insight into what this multicultural golfing phenom was really all about.

"She doth protest too much, me thinks", as the Old Bard once so famously wrote. Ah,yes. Perhaps that's why Tiger named his mega-yacht 'Privacy'? Makes one wonder how far back this appalling + pathetic pathology of arrogance extends [and what the hell he was thinking]?

Besides knowing Phil Mickelson somewhere is sitting in front of a wide-screen TV - his recovering wife's now non-cancerous bosom nestled next to his - and laughing his fat ass off, I'm hard-pressed to come-up with anything this extraordinary since ... really don't know. Pres. Clinton was a known womanizer, so Ms. Lewinsky's tryst didn't have a surprise factor. Only thing I can think of is situation if - while the famed aviator was still alive - existence of Charles Lindbergh's other/Deutschen family had been revealed. Being firm believer in schadenfreude - peculiarly German concept of taking delight in other's misfortune - must confess I haven't been this stoked since ... never. "And the truth shall set you free" ... maybe not, eh, Tiger?

That's all. Sometimes you just have to step back from the masterpiece and let minimalism + conjecture complete the canvas' deliciously ironic final strokes. Plus anymore mirth inducement might lead to some gents in surgical garb standing above me while bellowing, "Clear!". Such would negatively impede ability to witness the few further Bavarian pretzel turns I suspect this debacle still is set to yield.

Final parting/cheap shot: Understand EA has secured rights to new combo video game of 'Tiger Woods Golf' meets 'Grand Theft Auto'. In new set-up Tiger has to not only win U.S. Open, but "keep his pimp hand very strong" by smacking-down uppity wife while maintaining a reserve of "hush money" to silence ex-Bimbettes. Reported Eldrick also gets to "cap the ass" of any protesting PGA-ers with shank-like 2 iron. Scheduled to be out no later than 2010 Master's!

Leadership lessons from 'The Godfather'

The chopped-off horse’s head layin’ in splendorous silk sheets, “Sleeps with the fishes”, even Michael Corleone’s public kiss of his brother, Fredo, to let him know he’s going to have him ‘wacked’ … all these are clichés from ‘The Godfather’ which have burrowed their way deeper into our pop culture than anything outside of Robert Duvall’s ‘Apocalypse Now’ soliloquy re the pleasing aroma a bit of napalm can provide at day’s dawning.

As clichés go, these are pretty damn good. Great as the movies are, a re-reading of Mario Puzo’s original is well worth it. There are whole chunks of the book – just as rich in narrative as what you've seen in the films – still untouched. Ever wondered, for example, what happened to Lucy Mancini [right] after Sonny bought it on the Causeway?

What the book, due to its format, explores in more depth are lessons for what it is to be a leader of men. I perceive Puzo’s book really as a character study on what it is to be a man and the meaning of code to defining character regardless of morality. Whoa … heavy!

Rather than pontificate pedantically, let me offer instead what I purport are the key lessons from ‘The Godfather’ (primarily the book) on how to be a leader of men:

1.) “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer”

This is probably the most well-known lesson from ‘The Godfather’ and is fairly obvious. Puzo attributes this trait to the Sicilian character, but really it’s a kind of functional duplicity which can be seen in all walks of life since Judas [smoochin' left] asked his Narzarene buddy not to bogart the matzoh despite bringin’ some fine wine for their dinner.

2.) Loyalty trumps smarts – The lesson of Clemenza v. Tessio

Movie & book's beginning both center on marriage day of Connie Corleone, only daughter of Vito (a.k.a. ‘The Godfather’). It's said repeatedly that traditionally no Sicilian can refuse a favor asked by a friend on day of their daughter’s giving-away. With such understood, it’s not surprising that more paisans line-up during the event to beseech Don Vito than creditors trying to get a piece of Bernie Madoff [right].

As Puzo emphasizes, all are doing this because of their “respect” for the Don. That word is a substitute, in essence, for friendship. Not the kind we would usually associate with the word, but instead it’s used in the sense of a debt that is voluntarily owed as return for an actual favor or prospect of needing one for the future. It is the construction of this “wall of friendships”, as Don Vito calls it in the book, which insulates one against the injustices of the world and is only undergirded by the even more sacrosanct bond of family.

So who is entitled to such “friendship”? All those willing to show fealty, as is literally demonstrated by the kissing of the Don’s ring. However the overt offering of obsequiousness by one’s followers is not enough to lead men successfully. Puzo proves this in the contrast painted between Don Vito’s two caporegimes [Military equivalent of corps commanders] – Peter Clemenza & Salvatore Tessio [dourly left].

From the git-go, the corpulent Clemenza is depicted as a jovial lover of life – enjoying its fruits and in ending it for those who dared to oppose his Padrone, Don Vito. In the book, it is clearly stated that Clemenza is kept under a much tighter leash in his ‘territory’ than his opposite number, Tessio. One could reasonably presume that Don Vito – in judging his two key lieutenants – thought more highly of Tessio’s talents than those of his fat friend, Clemenza. Right?

In the 1st movie’s most fateful scene at Don Vito’s gravesite, Michael, his youngest son + inheritor of ‘the family business’, says to his closest confidante he knows Tessio has planned a meeting at which he, Michael, will be assassinated. His confidante, somewhat flabbergasted, asks Michael why Tessio would try this compared to temperamental Clemenza? “Because it’s the smart play; Tessio was always smarter,” Michael answers.

Most hearing such still don’t learn the lesson Puzo is proposing – loyalty trumps smarts.

No, some jackass with blind devotion is not the ideal. However, when given a choice, a leader should opt for loyalty – “skin in the game”, as we say today – rather than sheer brainpower. [Think here, also, of Halberstam’s “The Best and the Brightest” as further testimony why human intelligence only can be dangerous (much less desirable)] Tessio, as the book depicts, was used quite effectively by Don Vito during his career. 'Sallie' played an integral part in solidifying the Don's control of the New York crime world. In the end that service only got Tessio the right to be taken away to a car compacting lot of his choosing for a more dignified demise than summary execution.

This is the most important lesson by far. It can be used as a springboard to understand, for example, the primal importance of the personal relationship between Generals Grant & Sherman which kept the latter in the field and, as a result, preserved the Union. More to come on this hypothesis in future posts.

3.) Always have a wild card – The importance of Luca Brasi

Probably due to space considerations, the movie only offers a very cursory view of Luca Brasi's character. The Johnny Fontane story is told by Michael to his eventual bride, Kay, about how Luca “helped” his father convince a famous bandleader to sign a contract with the aid of focusing the musician’s attention on the large caliber handgun resting at his temple. Certainly the actor, Lenny Montana, playing Luca could not have been better suited. Lastly – after meeting his demise – Luca’s bulletproof vest is delivered with a dead fish to signify that he now resides underneath several hundred feet of water, i.e. “sleeps with the fishes”, and thereby gives us a key zeitgeist line to be re-quoted endlessly.

What the movie doesn't explore is Luca's role helping build Don Vito’s empire. Puzo in the book calls Brasi a “key pillar” of the Godfather’s strength. L.B. is accorded this status because he can “kill without confederates” and is attributed with single-handedly taking-out 6 of the opposition in a 2 week span during some troubles years before Connie’s blessed day. He is Don Vito’s wildcard – a man so vengeful, so unnatural in his bloodlust that other hardened killers fear him.

Puzo traces how Vito Corleone befriends Luca and provides him a repository for devotion which this killer seeks to give to at least one other entity in the universe [God, humanity & civilized behavior all having been chucked by Luca as the book amply + disturbingly documents]. The lesson is the Don is under no illusion about Brasi. Luca is likened to “dynamite” and the Corleone consiligiere sees that this primordial man makes "even The Godfather a little nervous” during their meetings.

All leaders need a wild card to keep the opposition in line; ‘The Godfather’ had Luca Brasi in spades (so to speak).

4.) The benefits of appearing weak to your opposition

This sounds counter-intuitive. After all, doesn’t the perception of weakness beget the tendency for your enemies to want to come after you? Yes and no; we’re talking strategic deception here, not [far left] Neville Chamberlain-like appeasement.

To appear to be weak for no reason, is not the lesson of ‘The Godfather’. In the book this is much more amply delved into and the movie gives only superficial exploration of this concept during Michael’s consolidation of power at the end of the first fill-um by elaborately “orchestrating” the murders of the heads of the other four major crime families plus, for good measure, Moe Green & his own brother-in-law, Carlo Rizzi.

The book gives us a much longer lead to this denouement and shows it to be the last bit of cunning genius from Don Vito before shuffling off (peacefully) his mortal coil. Between them, Don Vito & Michael purposely planned to appear to not be defending the turf of their two caporegimes (and, in the process, antagonizing both of them) while, clandestinely, building a secret regime under Rocco Lampone. This specific tactic serves the dual purpose of drawing-out the traitors in their own ‘family’ while giving false confidence to their enemies that the Corleones were ripe to be overthrown. When Vito dies and the vultures begin to circle, the late Don’s final strategy is sprung by Michael just after the infamous baptism of his sister’s child to whom he stands-in as the lad’s literal Godfather.

Difference here is the Corleones knew they had enemies and most of us think foolishly we don’t. If a leader is to be successful, this beneficial lesson must be preceded by a good look around to recognize the world isn't full of their mutual admiration society members. For a leader who can do such & have patience to play this delicate endgame, the results – as Michael reaped – can devastate their opposition.

So, how relevant is all of this? You can be the judge, but let me, vis-a-vis my thesis above, point-out a few flies in the proverbial ointment:

- The world depicted in ‘The Godfather’ is not just predominantly, but exclusively, male-directed. Vito Corleone believes women + children are a completely separate genus and do not subscribe to any of his precepts. That, obviously, is not the case in the real world today and therefore above is not nearly as prescriptive as a result.

- The concept of a man living by a code has been subsumed, by and large, within various forms of morality – mostly those of evangelical Christianity. I’m not here to argue if this is good or bad, but no one, for example, thinks of themselves anymore in terms of their status as a ‘Hemingway code hero’ and “being afraid of death, but not afraid of dying”. That kind of masculine self-conception, at least for forseeable future, is way past gone.

- The core family values of ‘The Godfather’ really no longer exist. I’m not saying things are better or worse, but some of the natural things Don Vito presumed are no longer valid. Divorce is rampant, not just the exception. A concept of duty to something beyond oneself – usually for “one’s own blood” as Santino emphasizes to Michael when the latter joins the Marines after Pearl Harbor – isn't a part of our culture outside the military.

All above cited plus discounted, still I maintain firmly that ‘The Godfather' can be read as a canon on how to be a leader of (primarily) men, as well as a terrific story. If you liked either of the first two movies [I’ll omit reference kindly to last installment], then, please, pick-up the book for a quick spin at very least. You’ll thank me! [Self-portrait below]