Chris Erskine takes his youngest child to kindergarten.
Is this any place for a kid? I don't mean this school, I mean this world. He is eagerly stepping into a land where no one seems to agree on anything and half of all e-mails seem like scams. He is stepping confidently into a world peppered with Nike swooshes, where all events are sponsored by Visa, where religion and journalism are now based on the bottom line.
Big business is running amok. Baseball is adopting instant replay. Alyssa Milano is getting another TV show. Where does it all end? Is there no stopping this train wreck? Where are the populist firebrands demanding a fair shake? Where's the next Harry Truman, the next Upton Sinclair? Heck, right now, I'd settle for the next George Carlin.Maybe he or she is here, climbing the steps to Miss Price's room, with a Thomas the Tank Engine backpack. I hope so. No, I pray so.