Connecticut politics from the Crow's Nest / Ed Chrostowski

Even Yogi Berra, baseball's famous master of malapropisms, felt a need occasionally to put a spin on some of the curious quotes attributed to him.

After his bizarre utterances ("it ain't over til it's over" and "it's so crowded nobody goes there any more," for example) drew so much attention, Berra felt compelled to defend himself in a book aptly titled "I Never Said the Things I Said."

That's not as unique an alibi as it seems. Berra and his ghost-writer did it in profitable fun, of course, but how many politicians, business leaders, social commentators, et al, try to retract careless expressions by claiming they were misquoted, their comments were lifted out of context or they merely had made a poor choice of words? And how often is the excuse even worse?

Even apologies for obvious insensitivity are hedged. Apologists are not sorry for what they said. They're sorry if anyone was offended, as though the onus falls on those who are perceived as thin-skinned and "too touchy."

On the other hand, there are statements that seem to be tactless, even stupid, but shouldn't be retracted because they do serve a purpose.

Recent remarks by Rush Limbaugh and Pat Robertson are in that category. Limbaugh, the voice of self-anointed righteousness, actually said the people of Haiti got what they deserved and that President Obama was using the tragedy to score some political points. And televangelist Robertson, who seems to have convinced at least himself that he has a direct pipeline to God, attributed the devastation of that island nation to a pact its people had once made with the devil.

That's the sort of ludicrous buffoonery that ought to convince people not to take the likes of Limbaugh and Robertson seriously. Their outrageous comments effectively undermine the legitimacy of their brand of zealous ultra-conservancy.

Similarly, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid needn't have apologized, though he did, for stating that election of a black man to the presidency was possible because the candidate, Barack Obama, had light colored skin and didn't speak with a "Negro dialect."

In some quarters, that was seen as racist and insensitive, but not even Al Sharpton found much fault in it. In truth, Sen. Reid's observation was realistic recognition of the discrimination, much of it latent, that continues to plague society. And responsible black writers said in nationally syndicated columns that Sen. Reid had spoken the truth and thus called attention to subtle if not overt biases still pervasive in race relations.

In fact, Sen. Reid was one of a group of senators who as early as 2006 were urging Obama to run for the presidency, according to "Game Change," the new Heilemann-Halperin book that takes a revealing look behind the scenes of the 2008 presidential campaign.

Serious, too, are comments that betray a public figure's basic attitude. When Dick Cheney was informed that polls showed that most American people opposed war in Iraq, he said "So?," revealing a hard-hearted, autocratic indifference to public sentiment.

Then, too, there are the facetious public utterances that draw public attention all of proportion to their merit. Seldom, if ever, do they warrant retraction, regret or alibis. They're just too silly and the purpose they serve is to add a little levity to the public discourse.

Fitting neatly into that category, for example, are quotes from Sarah Palin and Martha Coakley. Palin claimed insight in international affairs because she can see Russia from her front porch in Alaska. In a vain attempt at populism during her unsuccessful campaign for the critical Massachusetts seat in the U.S. Senate, Coakley called Curt Schilling a rabid Yankee fan. Schilling is, of course, the Red Sox pitcher of bloody sock fame who defeated the Yankees in a playoff a couple of seasons ago. Even Rex Ryan, coach of the Jets, might be included for claiming that his team will make pro football's Super Bowl this year.

The point is that we need to pay attention to what's being said and who is saying it before getting all exercised about statements and demanding apologies or, conversely, heaping accolades on the speakers. It becomes obvious, as in the case of Limbaugh and Robertson, that the public utterances of influential people, even the most ludicrous and outrageous of them, can deliver a needed message.