Last month I raised the awful possibility that Bob Greene’s entire persona–the aw-shucks, semiretarded bit–was just an act, a sham, a convenient pose to facilitate the cynical grinding out of yet another daily column.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Look at “The cameras roll, and the ugliness keeps spreading” (November 7). At first it seems typical Bob boilerplate. A black high school football player punches a white ref. A video camera records it, and TV stations play the tape. Bob lets out a cry of pain. “Anger and bitterness are instantaneously packaged and distributed to the masses,” he shrills. Bob decries this as exploitation, blowing a tiny incident out of proportion, particularly the racial element. “What happened on the high school football field has been made into a symbol of social problems,” he scolds.
Bob relates how “a black man in his 20s” sits next to him on the train from South Bend. The black man makes a benign comment about the train schedule, and small talk ensues. Bob deems him “a very pleasant fellow.” Although the conversation is unremarkable, by column’s end their chat becomes an event of monumental importance, a symbol of something true and pure and redeeming.
In a word, “No.” Cover your ears, squinch your eyes, and scream it together: “No. No! Nooooooooo!”
