Tom Ridge. I listened to him for an hour with the 6,000 some-odd others in the audience at the outdoor amphitheater. There was press, probably three or four cameras and a few photographers present. I could only see two secret service men flanking the stage in their slate grey suits, standing at attention.
More than anything else, I wish I could tell you what he talked about. Unlike most orators that take the stage at Chautauqua, Ridge has precious little skill at public speaking. Based on this speech alone — I haven’t seen him in public before — I can say I see precisely how he has been successful in politics. All sizzle, no steak.
He’s a handsome man, impressive. He’s got fine clothes. He’s tall and broad, which can be impressively intimidating. By all rights, he should be successful based on appearance alone. But, open his mouth and nothing comes out. Vapor. Hot air.
The bulk of his remarks was simply a stump speech. He used all the buzzwords needed in this type of liberal crowd: civil rights, security, freedom, etc. He admitted shortcomings in the system; holes in his department where problems have and will occur. He got applause each time he said “I don’t know.”
But, again, the overwhelming impression of the audience as we walked out was expressed in a collective “Duh.”
I haven’t really taken advantage of the rest of the Monday schedule; most of what I’m interested in is coming on Wednesday, so I’ve got plenty of time to read. It’s pouring rain today, this afternoon anyhow, big, east coast thunderstorm with thunder and lightning and wind, the works. Very, very spooky. Smells nice.
Emma is under the weather. She’s got this raspy cough and sounds like she’s having trouble breathing. It’s times like these you wish these pour kids could talk, tell us what’s up, where it hurts, something.
I’m looking forward to the David Cole lecture tomorrow, particularly in contrast to the lead balloon of today’s session.