COLUMN What About Bob?

Author: Bob Wainright

I had never been to a big-time college football game before, so when I visited Michigan this past weekend and attended the Michigan-Penn State game, I was thoroughly unprepared for the experience. Simply put, it was unbelievable.
First off, more than 111,000 people were at the game in the Big House, which, if my mathematical brain cells haven't all died out completely is almost … wait. Carry the one, plus three, put the decimal point there … is almost -.0537 times the number of people who … for crying out loud! What I'm trying to say is that it's a lot of people.
The game itself was a tremendous one. It went into overtime, during which Michigan scored a touchdown to win. But the single most incredible event did not occur on the field at all. Instead, it started in the student section to my left, when suddenly a giant, plastic, blown up, imitation of a, shall we say, male organ began bouncing up and down the rows of seats while circling an entire half of the stadium.
At one moment, this Cauc ... ahhchooo! Sorry. This Caucasian man grabbed the inflatable phallic symbol and held it, managing to ignite the entire stadium in laughter.
"Unbelievable," said the person next to me.
"Hysterical," said another.
"Ridiculous," I said, smiling to myself and emphasizing the middle syllable.
The entertainment lasted for more than 10 minutes, after which the same two thoughts occurred to everyone in the student section: 1) I forgot there was a game, and 2) I wish I had thought of bringing that.
Personally, I continued to chuckle throughout the game and even that night while walking around Ann Arbor. In fact, I was doing just that when I noticed a person scribbling messages in chalk on the sidewalk. The one closest to me read "Columbus = Genocide." Not wanting the poor guy to scribble too much before realizing his mistake, I tapped him on the shoulder and explained that Columbus was from Genoa, not Genocide.
It was a meaningless encounter, but it did get me thinking about a few things including dinner (Italian food) and protests. "What good do they do?" I asked myself. I mean, it's not as though our nation was founded by people who protested the injustices of an outdated monarchy, right?
Clearly, our nation, as we understand it today, owes a great deal to the American protest impulse. But what of the word itself? Essentially, what does 'protest' mean? Breaking it down, one can see that it actually consists of two words, pro and test. The former, meaning 'in favor of,' when combined with the latter gives the impression that a protester is one who is in favor of tests. What kind of tests, I cannot say, for my expertise in this subject extends no further.
This whole issue, however, leads in quite well to what happened at Middlebury this past Sunday, when more people gathered to protest Ari Fleischer's talk than have protested any single speaker or guest on campus in the last decade.
And while I wasn't there to witness any of it, I've heard rumors that the protesters' vicious remarks aimed at the press secretary, such as, "How do you sleep at night?" and "How does it feel to be a murderer?" have caused Fleischer to urge Bush to rethink his entire policy on Iraq.
Who knew that questions regarding his sleeping habits and his status as a murderer would have such a profound effect on a man who spends every weekday putting his job on the line by answering tough lines of questioning from some of the most intelligent and well-informed people in the media? I sure didn't.
Sarcasm aside, however, I do have a serious question to pose to the protesters: What exactly does holding up a sign calling for the legalization of pot have anything to do with Fleischer returning to his alma mater to give a talk and accept an alumni achievement award? And for that matter, what does playing Bob Dylan's "Blowing in the Wind" have to do with it either?
This isn't the sixties, folks. This is the OO's, or whatever you call this decade. And I think we all agree that peace is pretty awesome. So instead of yelling out "Enron!" while Fleischer's in the middle of a sentence, why not hear what he has to say and then ask him some serious, well thought out questions. Questions that are backed by a great deal of consideration and interest.
Questions such as, "Is your fiancé really as hot as I've heard she is?"