The Truth Eludes Us

Yes Virginia, There Is A Debt Crisis

2011-07-26T18:08:00.000-04:00

Watched the Pres last night, followed by Speaker Boehner. And dang, that caused me to miss Rey Mysterio winning the new WWE World Championship from The Miz. I think the right guy won the match, and though I'm not sure about the specific details, it's almost a certainty how it ended. The Miz is great on the mic, which carries a lot of weight in the wrestling world, as it should. But lets face it, I love that masked wrestler and his patented, if vaguely superficial, 619 finishing move.

Anyway, with the remaining wrestling matches on the tube, I looked on the web to see how the public took the political speeches. MSNBC asked who we thought won their point; I was slightly surprised to find a great majority felt Obama made the best argument. I would have guessed a fair split, but it was roughly 60-30-10. I myself voted neither won, because I found flaws in both presentations, and this put me in the 10% group. The story's online comments were divided by how one voted, and I looked up some of the comments of those who voted with me. I agreed with the one who said Obama's was better, but both are guilty of "politics as usual."

What was troubling about these presentations was how they both made it clear that they agree disaster looms. But at the same time, and much more importantly, it is the other side who is pushing us to the brink; and the other side that must move on their position. Message decoded: we are very possibly going to default, and each party is snug (and smug) in the conviction it will be the others fault. Almost like magic, the very thing most people agree must not happen, will happen, and no one will be to blame! This is just preposterous.

To be sure, there are those who think this will not be a disaster, and apparently they are the Tea Partiers. Do I detect a little "This is all alarmist crap. It isn't the big deal the Pres says it is. But, if default is really bad, it will serve those Democrats right for pushing us to this point." If you tea-baggers really believe this, then you are nothing more than little kids playing with matches in the fertilizer shed. It's one thing to burn yourselves; quite another to blow up the whole damn farm.

Let me tell you what's really going to happen. I finally saw some numbers, and here they are: $203 billion in receipts for August, $363 billion in obligations. Wait a minute... WTF? We're only going to take in about 56% of what we need to pay out? Uh-oh... since we're not going to print more money, SOMEBODY is not going to get paid...

Nobody knows for sure who doesn't get paid, but everything I've read says we'll pay debt interest first, to salvage our already suspicious credit standing with all our creditors. The question is how to divide the remainder amongst the rest. Who are the rest? Well, anybody getting a check from Uncle. Including all government contractors, those on Social Security, government salary, government retirement, medicaid, medicare, and so on. Putting aside the absolutely astonishing and appalling thought that our all volunteer force servicemen and women currently at war might not get paid, let's just look at retirees. I am among these, and figure we are somewhat farther down the ladder. I am already figuring how to cover next month's rent.

If I can make the rent, I will be one of the lucky ones who was not living paycheck to paycheck, as so many are. A lot of rent and mortgage payments are at risk, which puts banks at risk, which tightens credit, which stops growth and puts businesses already on the edge in a deeper fix, and so on. So much of our economy rides on consumer confidence, and an intangible faith that there will be bread on the store shelf when we are ready to buy it.

So, what didn't I like about each speech? Well the Pres seems hooked on this "we must tax the rich and corporations" thing. Though I tend to agree with him (because I don't think that not raising their taxes will create more jobs; at least, it hasn't worked for the last 12 years), the actual increased revenue numbers appear to be a drop in the bucket; i.e., it's more symbolic than anything else. President Obama, are you using this to to get working class America behind you and the Democratic platform for future elections? Should it really be the deal-breaker? It's true, businesses getting a tax break on a corporate jet is irksome. But at least Americans built that jet.

And Speaker Boehner, you were almost folksy in your presentation. You made it sound matter-of-fact that this is where we should draw the line on Big Government's excessive spending. You spoke to us like you were one of us, and sir, you plainly are not. You are in a position of great power, and have been for a long time. It's hard to believe you or any of congress will be affected to the same extent, if any, as the rest of us if the default happens. If you were Joe Anyguy, you'd sit down with the President, agree on the numbers being tossed around, agree on a general game plan and quit worrying about that 2% of people whose taxes would be raised if you acceded to the President's tax proposal.

In short, both of you failed to make this a de-politicized issue. At least the President wants to raise the ceiling high enough so it won't come back again as a political football in 2012, which seems to me like a party-neutral position. The Republicans have set their proposal's timing to appear to make spending authority a reward for cutting costs, but you can't ignore the fact it makes another heated debate come due at a critical time. Nevertheless, shame on you both.

And finally, I'm thinking I can't forgive you guys for upsetting me so that I got distracted and missed out on John Cena beating Mysterio just a little later on the same night that Rey had just got the title. It changed hands twice! And Heck, I'm still processing that, then CM Punk comes out and... never mind. Just get this debt business settled before next Monday Night RAW, because if I miss any more wrestling drama, I'm going to scream, and default on my rent.

The Problem with Rocket Science and the Economy

2011-07-19T17:52:00.000-04:00

So we have this cliche, "it's not rocket science." When we use it, it can be a little bit pejorative. It can be a combination put-down of a person and whatever they're trying to understand, while at the same time entrenching the idea that rocket science is so unintelligible that who the hell normal people would understand it anyway? So the convenience is that it quickly imparts the idea of complexity. Now we can divide the world into things that are like, or are not like, rocket science. And if it's like rocket science, you can be forgiven for not understanding it, because, well, you're normal.

Let's consider the U.S. economy and its relationship to the federal budget. Is it rocket science? Hell yes, and also, not exactly. On one hand, we've been doing this economy thing for hundreds of years, and our very best minds STILL can't agree on what works, and what doesn't. Tax rates, interest rates, incentives, tariffs, what's the balance? And apparently all the historical evidence we have supports all viewpoints, at some time or other.

On the other hand, if you look at just some small pieces, it's pretty simple. Like, should we raise the national debt limit? At this particular point in time, sadly, yes. To not do so would be an order of magnitude worse than "Epic Fail." But, as the clock ticks toward August 2nd, we find we may have already done significant damage to the long term economic standing of the United States. I find this intuitive, but a much better explanation than I could give is in this link:

http://money.msn.com/investing/would-a-us-default-mean-disaster-jubak.aspx?GT1=33002

We're teasing the dragon here. Why hasn't congress acted? It's complicated, because we have a budget crisis during a recession (depression?) with an election coming up. We have borrowed an historic amount of money at a huge premium against the future, we have neither plan nor mandate to balance our budget and we can't agree on taxes and spending cuts. Possibly the most damning: apparently the exact details on a budget compromise will be the "decider" of which party will be best positioned for the 2012 Presidential election. OMG, we've got to: A. Stay in power, or B. Get more power. I could say simply it's time to be Americans, not Republicans or Democrats, and do the right thing for the country. But when has that call really worked? Even entering WWII there was dissent, and we were attacked, dammit.

The Dems have got to accept spending cuts, and they have--not enough to satisfy the GOP, and not enough to really address the problem. However, addressing serious spending cuts means going after entitlements, and there is precious little time to tame that beast. They also want to get back to old taxation rates (not raise taxes, restore them to pre-Bush tax cut levels) or at the very least, restore tax levels for the people who can best afford to pay the old rates. Raising taxes gets people's attention quick, not for the better.

The Republicans are at risk of fragmentation (think Tea Party). Working a true compromise seems fatal to their ability to keep a united front. So apparently rather than mediate the amount of a cut, or even consider taxes, their compromise is to "allow" the debt ceiling to be raised if they get significant spending reductions without raising taxes. That's not a compromise position, since they have not agreed on what can be haggled. It's really more like demanding a ransom--most of our congressmen already know we must raise the ceiling.

On a pragmatic level, it seems to me we must do all of it. Reduce spending, increase taxes (a little?) and dedicate ourselves to fiscal responsibility, i.e. balanced budget. Something will have to be done to the sacred cow of entitlements; for example, we can't ignore the demographics of a smaller generation's burden from the larger, longer-lived baby boomers. Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security, Government retirement; all will have to be reconsidered. Unfair to those who paid into these things, and made lifelong decisions based on promises? Absolutely. Unmanageable burden for some? Sadly yes. Charity and sacrifice are not two sides of the same coin. We may have been charitable with our surplus, but we are about to have to sacrifice from our current standard of living. Such is the risk of embracing an economy primarily dependent upon growth, because that is never a guarantee.

All the signs are there. The world looks to us to keep things steady, and that's not a position we have tried to avoid--we have proudly taken center stage on world affairs for nearly a century. Portugal, Greece and some other countries are about to find out what it means to default. What will they cut? Inability to provide basic government services is a path to anarchy. At the very least, they face a significant downturn in their prosperity. What does it mean when the standard of living declines, after so many years of improvement? We'll find out soon it seems.

The very first savings investment I ever made was a US Savings Bond, "backed by the full faith and credit of the US Government." When I asked an investment counselor if it was a good investment, he said "the yield is very low, but there is no safer investment in the world." Then he added, "but it boils down to being a promise we have no choice in--because nothing else matters if our own government's money is no good. It's not rocket science."

Our Story Thus Far...

2011-07-11T19:07:00.000-04:00

Evil Professor Exodus has repaired the damaged Tectonic Fromambulator, and is threatening the entire continent with catastrophic destruction in the next 10 minutes. Our heroes, Jim Ed and Scooter, are lost in a maze beneath the Professor's lab, only steps ahead of the giant mutant guard dogs. Meanwhile, unknown to the President, General Packard has ordered a nuclear air strike on Exodus' fortress, while his daughter Trudy begs him to give Jim Ed and Scooter just a few more minutes to stop the madman...

Will the Professor carry out his vile plan? Can Jim Ed and Scooter escape the maze in time? Who the hell told General Packard he could launch the fleet??? These questions and more will be answered next time, in Chapter 6 of "Cold Hard Revenge of the Moon Men from Mars!!!"

Ah, serials. I just watched an old movie serial called "King of the Rocket Men" on Netflix. It was in 12 parts and the production value was surprisingly good, especially for 1949. A funny thing, the good guys win of course, but not before Manhattan is utterly destroyed and millions die. Still, after the destruction they get the bad guy and laugh as they pat each other on the back. Simpler times! Apparently the producers had stock footage of tsunami damage to a big city from a movie called "Deluge," and it was just too darn good not to use.

Anyway, it was fun to watch this, and imagine the kids (and adults) who paid 25 cents each Saturday to see a short newsreel, a 12-minute serial, and a main feature at the local Bijou. That was back when people were quiet during the show, and never failed to cheer on the hero and applaud the movie when the lights came up. Oh, and they jeered if the movie stunk, too. These days you're lucky if people just whisper while they answer their cell phones that they were supposed to turn off. And even though audiences are still affected by the powerful emotions seen on the screen, they are careful not to show it as they leave the theater.

Going to the movies is still a huge treat for me. I was enthralled by the opening of Star Wars; it began right in the middle of an exciting space battle and never let up til the end, or so it seemed. That kind of instant immersion was uncommon for the time, and everybody wanted to play light sabers after that movie. And Alien--how could I forget that the lady next to me left finger bruises in my leg after the alien punched out of John Hurt's chest. That scene, which was very visceral for the time, still managed to remain a secret to the next audience, much like (I am still grateful) it was with The Sixth Sense.

Its good that movies are still around, even if I have to sit through commercials and trailers, and pay outrageous prices for snacks. I don't care at all for 3D, it is quite obviously a rip-off designed to eke out a few more shekels from us for an ineffective gimmick. I think it will die a merciful death soon enough, even though theaters are retrofitting themselves with the technology.

As soon as the local theater re-opens, I am promising myself at least a once a month trip for something. I will mix it up between comedy and action, and keep my fingers crossed that I'll have another Star Wars moment. Or maybe two.

To Die on Mars

2011-07-09T01:29:00.000-04:00

Today was a milestone in the American Space Program, the last launch of the space shuttle. I think it's a low point. When Atlantis took off today, I lost my chance for a bucket list item: to witness a shuttle launch in person. I saw it live on TV, but didn't get to feel the ground shake or witness the near bright-as-the-sun rocket flame. Well, they say there will be more launches in the future, apparently in the 2020s, but I don't think its a sure thing. First the Ares program was on, then off, then Orion, sort of; and now, whatever. The fact remains that thousands of shuttle workers will be fired/furloughed/let go, and with them goes a huge brain trust of experience in the nuances of manned space exploration. Not everything we know is in books, and lost knowledge can be difficult to recoup.
Many people are hopeful of commercial enterprises and other countries taking up the challenge, but none of them are working on anything more than satellite and tourist carriers, and low earth orbit cargo vessels. That's sad. For a brief time, NASA was working on a plan to re-establish a presence on the moon, and probably use it as a stepping stone to Mars. Those are still intentional plans, but no hard plan exists to achieve them. Nor is there any money.
As a kid I was an astronomy nut, had memorized all the northern hemisphere constellations and the names of many stars. I knew the distances to the planets, their known moons, and observed as much as I could through my Tasco 100-power telescope. We already knew that a human trip to Venus was a pointless goal; a trip to Mars, however, was a tantalizingly realistic pursuit. Consider this; forget about space suits. On a "hot" martian day (+32 degrees F), with clothing and supplemental oxygen equipment similar to that used by mountain climbers, you could walk the surface of Mars.
I am reconciled to the fact that no human will walk on Mars in my lifetime. Surely there are better uses for the money, and so much suffering and uncertainty in the world today begs solutions worthy of the full efforts of our best minds. But the reality of human existence is that at any given time, all possible endeavors are being explored to some extent by somebody, somewhere. That includes all the good and ill that we humans are capable of. What we are not capable of is limiting ourselves to looking either exclusively inward or outward; as a race, we are always doing some of both. If space exploration can be thought of as part of our efforts to improve ourselves as human beings, then it is never an idle pursuit of the privileged, but instead a noble pursuit of the enlightened.
Recently I read that a simple paradigm shift of thought would make the trip to Mars vastly easier. For a moment it shocked me, but here it is: whoever goes there, stays there. Planning on a one way trip immediately eliminates some difficult logistics problems. And surprisingly, there would be no lack of volunteers. I even considered it something I might do had I the chance. But if I were going, it would have to be with the understanding that I want to explore all over, and not just settle into some bare-bones existence, huddled into a small underground enclosure. No, they'd have to send a lot of self-sustaining goodies along with me and the crew, and plan on frequent CARE packages. It's the least they can do if I'm going to die on another planet. But how cool would that be...

Best Tax Day EVER!

2011-04-21T16:34:00.000-04:00

Nah, that's just sarcasm. As if there could be a Best Day EVER Tax Day. Maybe it could be neutral, passing unnoticed, as in you had already filed weeks earlier and settled the debt, or were expecting a refund. In the latter case, refund day, that could be like the Best Ever April 26, or whatever day the check arrives. But this year it was almost a catastrophe; April 18 might as well have been my Ides of March.

The problem was twofold. First, I did not wait till the last day--at least, not on purpose, but it went that way anyhow. I had prepared the simple no-frills return a week prior and sent it in electronically, but it was not accepted, through 4 more re-sends. To be fair, the first time I did have a wrong Zip Code for the 1099R. But it kept telling me the withholding amounts didn't agree on the 1040 and the 1099R, which is crap, there is only one place on each form for that number and it was THE SAME DAMN NUMBER, every time. Extensive research on the internet revealed I had no recourse but to send it in the mail, which pushed me to the 18th. Ok, Monday was set to be very busy, including some requirements for both the 11-year old and the bed-patient pending, I knew I needed to get the forms postmarked the 18th, but I could deal.

Then the second issue: a 4AM wake-up on Monday the 18th with severe pain in my right side, and when I say severe, I'm talking record-setting por moi, as in "just take me now Lord." Having no idea what it could be, but fearing the appendix, I queried the internet. Big surprise, researching symptoms on the web can result in a diagnosis of everything from leprosy to belly button lint. Suffice to say it did nothing to relieve my fear, so I woke up the kid, told him to watch is mom, and drove myself to the ER. It later occurred to me I probably should not have driven myself but calling an ambulance just seemed too much. Five hours later I was released, a 3mm kidney stone working its way out of my system had made itself known. With pain meds in hand, there was nothing to do but wait for it to pass. (footnote, as of Thursday the 21st, it has not).

At least with with the pain meds I was able to get the forms to the Post Office, but I felt out of sorts for the next two days. I'm still a little off, probably just jitters awaiting "The Passing."

Though not exactly related, I know some of my discontent is due to articles I've read about the debt ceiling and the fact that GE and Google, among others, did not pay any corporate taxes this year. Also, with high rollers like Gates and Buffett both saying it's time to raise taxes on the very rich, I find it hard to tow the Republican line about extending tax cuts for them.

The truth is, I don't mind paying taxes, doing my part to help fund the government of the country I love. I see it as one of the sacred duties of citizenship. But I am troubled by the inability of our elected leaders to reduce spending, raise revenue, and get this country back into prosperity. Enough already, this will be THE TOPIC I bet for next year's elections...

FMT 4 --Chappie James at the Gate (I know, it's March; so sue me)

2011-03-03T14:05:00.000-05:00

I had a tough week so I am posting the last February Mystery Tour a little late. This last mystery is about history; Black History to be precise. February is Black History Month, and, like the Equal Opportunity Program, is a source of controversy and more-than-a-little-shame, mostly because it became necessary to legislate it. During February we see newspaper articles, TV messages, school emphasis and special events that hi-lite achievements by African-Americans that were often overlooked by history texts. These things sometimes have a forced feel to them, probably because they are an afterthought to centuries of deliberate absence from mainstream culture.

People of my generation all heard of George Washington Carver in school, but that's about it for black notables. Perhaps his agricultural contributions were too monumental to omit; but it seems just as likely that text authors felt they had "filled that square" by including him. The mystery to me is why our culture hasn't caught up to the reality. When, if ever, will it not be necessary to isolate and commemorate the contributions of any specific real or imagined division of humanity?

Well, enough intro--the real reason I wrote this entry was to tell one of my absolute favorite "war" stories, (and it's a timely one, too!) about General Daniel "Chappie" James Jr. Gen James was the first African-American Four-Star General. A Tuskegee Airman, a veteran fighter pilot of WWII, Korea and Viet Nam, his intelligence, wit and charm were accompanied by singular dedication to duty. He was an inspiring public speaker, and it would surprise most that he spoke eloquently about Americanism and patriotism--particularly considering the obstacles he had to overcome. If you want to know what his experience must have been like, look at Gen Colin Powell's book "My American Journey." Powell came along years later than Gen James, and the racism he experienced in a much more modern world is still heartbreaking and maddening.

Ok, the story. During WWII, the U.S. took over a Nazi air base in Libya near Tripoli. Named Wheelus AB, it held many different air units over the years, and in August 1969, the Wing Commander was Chappie James. Just one month after Gen James took command of the base, Libya's King Idris I was overthrown in a military coup led by, you got it, Col Moammar Qaddafi. Since Idris was a friend of the U.S., you can imagine that the coup gathered steam by vilifying America. In short order, Qaddafi decided to flex his new muscles by personally parading vehicles through Wheelus Base Housing. What follows is, I believe, the story of what happened in Gen James' own words:

“One day Khadafy ran a column of half tracks through my base—right through the housing area at full speed. I shut the barrier down at the gate and met Khadafy a few yards outside it. He had a fancy gun and a holster and kept his hand on it. I had my .45 in my belt. I told him to move his hand away. If he had pulled that gun, he never would have cleared his holster. They never sent any more half tracks.”

Apparently Qaddafi demanded the U.S. turn over all the facilities (and probably all aircraft and equipment) to him immediately. Gen James stared him down, and Qaddafi blinked. The U.S later abandoned the base in its own time, and in orderly fashion, in June 1970.

Years later, we returned to the former Wheelus AB and bombed the daylights out of it during Operation Eldorado Canyon. For years Qadaffi's regime had been a vocal supporter of every terrorist group from the Red Army Faction to the Irish Republican Army, calling their attacks on all targets, including civilian, "heroic acts." Our operation was in retaliation for a terrorist attack on a German discotheque frequented by American servicemen, linked directly to Libyan agents.

Gen Daniel "Chappie" James suffered a heart attack and died 3 weeks after he retired from Air Force, at the age of 58. An American original.

February Mystery Tour 3

2011-02-19T18:38:00.000-05:00

A small mystery next--more introspective in nature. I am wondering about the relationship of this blog to the web.

My very first blog entry in 2008 mentions how my oldest daughter, Katherine put me up to it. The title is a little play on X-Files' "The Truth is Out There." At the time I was curious about what stuff I might put into it over the months and, surprisingly, over the years. Since then I have complained often about some aspect of daily life, written two poems, one (very) short story, and shamefully, embedded you tube videos of music I have enjoyed. In some I try to be funny; in others, serious; in a couple, introspective.

Though I started this for my kids, I left the blog "public," meaning it is searchable on the web. I figured over time some stranger might come across it and offer a comment or two. In fact, this has happened only once, and the anonymous comment was about the blog entry "Put on your big boy pants and deal with it," from all the way back in 2008. All other comments have been from friend or family.

I recently figured out how to monitor page visits, and said visits are few indeed. However, I was shocked to find that, almost weekly, people are still visiting "big boy;" almost to the exclusion of all others, even the recent entries! What, exactly, is the draw of "big boy pants," particularly amongst all the frangible, friable and/or thoroughly forgettable drivel I have posted?

Backing up for a moment, I want to comment on how hard it is to actually find my blog. Unless you use very specific terms in Google, it is all but impossible. Even when you type in the exact title of my blog, it is invisible to Yahoo, Ask, and Dogpile. Likewise, if you search those 3 for "put on your big boy pants and deal with it," you will not find my blog. You will, however, find Maureen McGowan's blog with an entry entitled "Put on your big girl pants." What up with that? (Kath, you might want to check out her site, she is a budding author). This is confusing-- both Maureen and I use blogspot.com for our platform--so how did I get missed? For those who don't know, Blogger is a Google publishing tool--but why did those others find her and not me?

OK, back to big boy pants. This is a very old cliche, seems to me it goes back to at least my childhood. My titled entry was about coping with, and persevering through adversity. First, it is about recognizing that almost nothing is so bad as it first seems; and second, if something really is that bad, well, buttercup, you'll just have to deal with it. So the exact wording, if searched in Google, gets me the VERY FIRST ENTRY!!! How cool is that? Apparently when people use the old cliche they find themselves at my door. Sadly, the entry must not be that engaging since no one ever comments; but I'm thinking of doing an update and see if that gets more attention.

There are other, similar euphemisms I can try for titles:
"Don't be a crybaby."
"Cry me a river."
"Are those violins I hear?"
"Suck it up/in."
"Grow a set/pair."
"Man-up, for crying out loud."
"It's better than a stick/poke in the eye."
"Get your head out your butt/a**/rectum."
"You appear to have suffered a cranial-anal inversion."
"Think much?"
"Hello, McFly, Hello?"
"Bueller? Bueller?"

Um, well, losing the bead there... definitely want to stay away from copyrighted stuff. Ok, which of these do you think might actually get some hits? Ah, time will tell...

February Mystery Tour 2

2011-02-11T14:02:00.000-05:00

Rhyming riddles are lots of fun,
though it is rare when I solve one.
Below are two on which I thought,
I got one right; the other, naught.

After that I give two more,
so simple, you can raise your score!
I could not make the last two rhyme,
I frankly didn't have the time.

Answers, tomorrow.

1. From Lewis Carroll:

John gave his brother James a box,
About it there were many locks.
James woke and said it gave him pain,
So he gave it back to John again.
The box was not with lid supplied,
Yet caused two lids to open wide.
And all these locks had never a key,
What kind of box, then, could it be?

2. Compliments to Riddles.com:

Four men sat down to play.
They played all night till break of day.
They played for gold and not for fun,
With separate scores for everyone.
When they had come to square accounts,
They all had made quite fair amounts.
Can you the paradox explain,
If no one lost, how all could gain?

Two for the road:

3. Why does the barber in Oatmeal, Nebraska, say he'd rather shave ten skinny men than one fat one?

4. One of the fastest runners alive once claimed he was so fast he could turn off the light in his bedroom and get into his bed before the room went dark. On one occasion, he proved it. How?

February Mystery Tour 1

2011-02-05T12:27:00.000-05:00

I've decided I will write at least one blog entry a week in February and dedicate each to some small mystery. Warning: I make no promise that I will solve the mystery for the curious reader; maybe yes, maybe no. Have you ever noticed that part of the wonder lies in wondering?

My children routinely amaze me with their dynamically eclectic taste in music. All three have journeyed all over the musical map, no destination too remote. This one is for them...

I have two music pieces in mind. Kids, here is proof that I have found and listened to some Indie music all on my own. What follows is a piece by The Twang. I love it when people transmit their joy through their music, and these guys just seem to be having a great time, and the crowd too.

"F*** it all Manchester, I think this is one of the best nights of me life."

Here is a special treat, one you can crank up and float away on. Let the video mesmerize you, or do something else while you listen, either way it's tough not to be travelling somehow when you hear this song. Sometimes the You Tube comments tell a neat little story about the vids:

"I went to see Rocky Votolato at a festival on the other side of Washington. Me and my friend found these guys outside of a motel room. We smoked with them and played hacky sack for a while then they gave us a cd and we saw them the next day at the show. I was really surprised whenever I find a band and they give me a cd they usually suck but this band is incredible. "

Just nice. Here is Mimicking Birds.

"...dark matter and toxic fumes...it's just a dusty interstellar saloon..."

So what's the mystery? Each of these songs has a particular, special meaning to me; one has very deep, even painful meaning; the other just served to be a pleasant little surprise. Which is which and why? Sorry, not telling...

The Past Speaks in Present Tense

2011-01-23T05:04:00.001-05:00

Thursday, January 20, 7:05 AM.

I pull myself out of bed and reach for my cell phone, which is my alarm clock. Fumble, and turn off the alarm. I really, really don't want to get up. Recently I added five minutes to 7AM; what's five more minutes I thought. Slip on slippers, pull on a shirt and walk, slowly, to the laundry room. I washed his colors last night, there are clean jeans and and a long-sleeve shirt in the dryer. As I reach in a thought strikes me, I close the door and start a cycle. I'll heat them up for him, the house is chilly. It will only take a couple minutes, but to save time while it heats up I begin the lunch ritual.

I try to keep my reusable grocery bag with me for the odd shopping trip, but failing that, I save and re-use the plastic bags for Jake's lunch. I take one from the pile on the dryer, and mentally check off the stops as I walk into the kitchen. Fridge: take the baby carrots, a juice box, and the grape jelly. Deposit them on the stove, where I will construct the finished product. To the pantry: for the peanut butter, Pringles and a snack--a cupcake or an oatmeal cookie. Back to the stove, all now in place. I turn and wash my hands at the sink, dry off, and take a paper towel to the stove. The towel is my clean workbench.

Construction order is always: easy first, hard last. The juice and snack go straight into the bag, already packaged. A short stack of Pringles goes into a sandwich baggie, then the baby carrots, also into their own little bag. I vary the number of carrots between 4, 5 and 6, then ask him at the end of the day how many there were as proof that he ate them. He usually gets it right. Now I'm down to the sandwich, always PB&J. Deep sigh. No, first I'll do the clothes.

I wake him by tossing the shirt and pants on his blanket and say, like always, "Put these on and you can put your head back down for a while." Not yet old enough to care much about his appearance--I won't let him leave looking shabby, so I orchestrate this. Back to the kitchen for the toughest task, the PB&J.

So far my actions are mechanical; now I have to wake up completely. The PB&J requires careful thought, more than the rest combined. Spread the PB so as to get the corners; spread the jelly the same way, but thinly (he once complained I put it on too thick!--I didn't think that was possible). Don't rip the soft bread, and cut it carefully to get it into the baggie cleanly, or else there'll be a mess when he takes it out. Yes, I could do all this the night before, but there is something lacking in an "old" PB&J from the fridge.

As I do this for my stepson, I think back to the same actions I took for my own children. I wonder if they knew I took the same care when I made their sandwiches, many years ago. Then as now, I felt love when I made their lunches, and wonder if they knew that. I wonder if they thought "my dad made this" and "he must love me" as they tore into it. Probably not; school lunch for me was all about where you sat, and with whom. Not saying it didn't happen, but I can't recall ever being thanked for filling those little lunch boxes. Did I ever thank my mom? Are thanks called for for even the mundane, repetitive tasks?

It is at this point I remember something long forgotten, and completely out of the blue. Grandma once told me I was severely pigeon-toed as a toddler; doctors said my legs would have to be surgically broken to fix this, but mom and dad didn't buy it. They kept looking until they found one who said braces could gradually turn my feet outward. I told my grandma I didn't recall any braces--she said they were so painful, and I fussed so much, that my parents waited until I slept each night to put them on, then took them off in the morning--and this went on for many months. Suddenly one of my earliest memories came back, constantly being told to point my feet outward, not inward! I remembered it was a big deal to everybody, but I didn't know why.

As I reflect on this at the stove, I know that love is shown through actions, especially the tough ones, even more especially, the little ones. And I realize, I never thanked my parents for the patience, the determination, and the love that went into those braces. Maybe they just thought of it as a burden of parenting, but I know what it really was. "You'll understand when you have your own children." That's all that need be said.

On this day, Thursday the 20th of January, I understand. Love is a chain of understanding that links the generations forwards and backwards. My love for my parents and my children are both give and take; both reverent service and grateful thanks. Part of a chain that, I am certain, will one day link my children with theirs, and with their mom and me. The love with which a task is performed is its own thanks. Knowing this, and having what I have, I am such a lucky man.

Saxophone Memories

2010-12-16T13:26:00.000-05:00

About 7 weeks ago the eleven year-old started sax lessons. The first 2 weeks he couldn't even get a pure note out, and I was, like, WTH are they teaching him in that class? At the end of his first week, I had to retrieve him from school because he had been suspended for the day by his music teacher for misbehaving. That's not like him at all, and I'm thinking that this music class is a bust. Well, 7 weeks later and somehow we have a 180--I don't know what happened; he is actually quite good. His music teacher says he has improved tremendously--he is in the first seat most of the time. And he seems motivated--last night he took his sax out and practiced before AND AFTER he did his regular homework.

At this point, I'm actually getting excited. He's not particularly athletic, and I told him if he kept at it and became really good he could maybe get a scholarship to a good college. I thought, hey, let's look online for some examples of musicians who make a living at this, and listen to how some of their work sounds. Among other things, I found a blog from a guy who did a rating of various sax solos from the 80's. He included some applet that allowed you to play the sax solo from each song he "rated." Here's the link if you're interested; you might be surprised and pleased at the gems you find:
http://imacomputa.org/sax/

But the online excursion was good news and bad. Bad news, I couldn't get the kid interested in the music we found--I'm not sure what his niche will be if he does in fact become a sax aficionado. On the good side though, it reacquainted me with some great tunes from the 80's that, as it turns out, had at least one thing in common: sax solos. I never realized how many great songs had a sax interlude. They ranged from a basic, moody bridge, like in Tear Us Apart by INXS; to the manic, integral instrumentation of one of my favs, Trouble in Paradise by Huey Lewis and the News.

Below is another fav, Icehouse's Electric Blue. The talented lead singer and song writer Iva Davies sports the absolute last word in mullets. He co-wrote this song with John Oates of Hall and Oates, another mullet pioneer.

Every list of top sax players I found has Charlie Parker, now deceased, as number one. I plan to find some of his stuff and try it out on Jake. One guy I've listened to a lot is David Sanborn--he does jazz-fusion stuff and he's pretty amazing. However, I really must embed Trouble in Paradise. As an example of popular work, the sax in this is absolutely nuts, and is integral to the song overall. For one thing, it's too much for one guy--there are two different soloists, and two more players on harmony! God I love this song--and I love the 80s!

Ah, it seems nobody does this stuff anymore...

I Really Like Peggy. But Shame On You! Me!

2010-12-08T23:50:00.000-05:00

I just finished Bob Newhart's memoir "I Shouldn't Even Be Doing This," a quick and fun read. Newhart is one of the pantheon of "original" comedians, meaning his style was unique and refreshing when he came along. Over the years my family has enjoyed telling me how much I look like him, or he looks like me, or whatever. It would be a compliment to say I was funny like him; but looking like him--not so much.

But I do love to laugh, and I chuckled out loud a couple times reading his book. Bob said he didn't feel humor should be analyzed too much, parsed and dissected so as to become un-funny. His public humor is of the gentle sort, but privately he is capable of some perversity, as he claims are all comedians--such is the nature of the comedic mind. Still, it would be a stretch to say any of Bob's humor has ever offended anybody.

There have always been comedians who reap laughs using shocking statements, often leaving the audience with some guilt feelings about their response. Ethnic humor has haunted the shadows for many years but still sneaks into the daylight from time to time and may even be making a comeback (SNL actually used a Polish joke last week, I have to say I didn't see it coming). And some TV commercials also brush with the ethnic taboo; enter Peggy.

Peggy is a foreign-outsourced phone service operator for a bank card. Reinforcing the obvious extreme cultural disconnect, Peggy is not a woman, but instead a misnamed Caucasian teddy-bear of a man with a voice that should be reading children's stories on Public Radio. His English is broken and he omits some verbs, articles, and the odd participle. He seems to be based in some frozen East European country, working from a slap-dash shack with a support staff right out of the Beverly Hillbillies. My guilt confession: Peggy is hilarious.

There are 4 or 5 ad spots of consumers dealing with Peggy. After briefly digesting the name/voice disconnect, the earnest customer attempts to conduct business over the phone but is met with obfuscation, misdirection and inevitable disappointment. Peggy is willing to do something, but that something will assuredly fail to meet the need. Peggy is alternately simple, confused, and/or downright devious, and the message is clear: outsourcing is inherently evil and substandard service will ensue. It is also (gasp), funny.

Should I really be laughing at this? Maybe if I break it down, I'll find I'm not laughing at ethnicity. Let's see, the name--yeah, that could happen to anybody, lots of things are lost in translation. How about the English? Well, I can only imagine how I'd sound in Paris after 4 years of C+ high school French, but I'm not trying to resolve someone's over limit fee, either. Maybe the real villain is greedy corporate America, for sending jobs overseas and making a mess of it. Come to think of it, they are real life villains.

Ok, lets cut to the chase. I, too, have dealt with outsourced call service centers, it wasn't funny. None of them were evil, per se. Any problems I had stemmed from language pronunciation, which tended to drag out the conversation. What these commercials do is make fun of a situation, and they want you to use their product. In this regard Peggy and company are guilty of an unforgivable sin--the commercial is so funny you forget to associate it with the product. After seeing these ads for months I had to look up the product for this blog--it's the Discover Card. Apparently those guys keep it real, and keep it in the States. Too bad, I still won't be applying for the card.

Well, I better close, NBC is running episodes of "Outsourced" back to back, and I don't want to miss one minute of those crazy Indians. Oh that Manmeet! Where do they get those names?

Buy Anxiety

2010-11-27T17:00:00.000-05:00

Well I made it, but just barely. It took copious amounts of chocolate and a drink or two to distract me, but I survived Black Friday without leaving the house. It wasn't pretty though. There are claw marks on the door-jamb...
I still have doubts. I have to catch my breath if I let my mind ponder what I must have missed out on.
And I most certainly missed out. Look at the extreme--if I had camped out at the local Best Buy a week ago I might have scored a free I-Pad or something from management--some bozos pulled it off elsewhere, I saw it on the news. I could have bought a dvd-tv combo with 120 Hz refresh and backlighting for a song; practically stolen a TomTom GPS for $59, or a palm-held Video camera for $49.
What? What's that you say, I didn't need those things? Fool! Of course I didn't need them, I WANTED them! I mean, they were so cheap. God help me, they were CHEAP. And, and, there would have been countless impulse buys to be had! It's the wonder, the awe, the... the OPTION, dammit! Who knows what all I missed.
Besides the crowds, that is. Oh, and the lack of items because of the minimum number kept on hand for the flyer ad. Yes, that...and the traffic, too; and lack of parking. And getting up early--ugh. But especially the unruly crowds, yes there have been a few of those. Some disagreement over the last Cabbage Patch doll on the shelf, etched into my brain long years ago.... Ah, perhaps that lady has forgotten the, er, momentary ugliness that transpired as my wife clenched her fist and beamed certain doom toward all present. Or was that me doing the beaming?
It's no use, even the uncomfortable memories don't dim the knowledge of opportunity lost. At some point, I will doubtless buy something for significantly more than I might have spent on that unctuous day. I will somehow have to live with that certainty, and reconcile myself to the loss of some other important bauble I will now not be able to afford. Curse this consumeristic universe! I buy, therefore I am... but, if I don't buy?

Ok Ok, I watched your damn commercial

2010-11-16T14:56:00.000-05:00

We should pay for the things we enjoy as a result of the work of others. I acknowledge there is no free lunch, it simply makes no sense to believe otherwise.

So consider the "free" homepage and e-mail offered by various internet services. My homepage has been MSN forever; initially I paid $10 a month for MSN Premium with services I never used; but it felt right that I should pay something for the e-mail and the news feeds. Fast forward and, with times so tight, I dropped the paid service (I don't think they even offer it anymore). Surprise, the free version didn't lose any of the functions I used. In fact, there was no useful difference between before and after. But now, some guilt creeps in as to how the good people who daily administer this service are recompensed. Wait, of course, it's the advertisements!

Parts of my homepage and e-mail are always streaming an ad. And when I surf, I might roll the mouse over a cleverly concealed popup activator that easily defeats my paid-for blocker. OK, I can handle the distraction and occasionally, I even get the message--I really should check that pesky credit score.

I try to avoid video clips though. Hey, what up with sitting through a 30 second pitch for 2 minutes of content? But often the story I want isn't in print. I'm just gonna have to get it from Matt Lauer. So, after 32 seconds of a blue bear singing to his toilet paper roll whilst picking pieces of tissue off his ass (kudos there, Charmin), I'll get the Today Show version of a hot story. God forbid it should refer me to another video; wherein I ponder "Can 15 minutes with GEICO can save me hundreds of $$?" Oh silly me, "Does a bear s%#* in the woods?" Not blue bears, according to Charmin.

Oh yeah, take that bitter, over-sized horse-pill. I owe SOMETHING to "pay" for this info; no free lunch, balance in the cosmos, Yin and Yang--and all that. BUT...

Lately, I take more medicine than I "need." Worse, take medicine with no payoff. Often the commercial plays and only AFTER do I get a message that the content is "temporarily unavailable." Say what? Why you dirty rotten...

And don't get me started on BING, the intelligent search engine. Well, if you insist. All these teasers in the corner of my home page are not stories, but searches, and hidden within their links are important messages, like that one thing that can give you washboard abs.

Yes, I could ignore BING but... Lady Gaga and Vladimir Putin did WHAT? Oh man, click on that puppy, I gotta know... Ummm, ah yes, BING has given me a short blurb, and I have only to CLICK ON 8 HI-LITED #%&*@ KEY-WORDS TO GET THE WHOLE STORY, EACH OF WHICH DIRECTS ME TO NUMEROUS $%#&@ ABBREVIATED ARTICLES WHICH.... I knew I should've stayed off BING.

I have a choice, I know. I could subscribe to a newspaper; dated as the info may be. It is there at my leisure. It will not deny me promised content. It will not insult my intelligence with toilet tales. Alas, I choose instead to add inertia to the decline of the printed word; such is my need for breaking news and pointless celebutante trivia. I paid my dues, I watched your damn commercial, now give me my fix.

It really is A Perfect Day

2010-11-09T14:17:00.000-05:00

I sit on a number of draft blog entries, waiting for the time I feel like posting them. Mostly it's because I start a thought, then can't find the right finish. But I'm feeling a little melancholy today, so I'm finishing this one.
A couple months ago I came across an amazing music video, and wanted to find the right theme to put it in the blog. Then something odd happened, and I didn't know if I'd ever use it--I'll explain. It's Lou Reed's "A Perfect Day," performed by a startling array of artists. And yes, it made western hemispheric news over a purported snub wherein Lou Reed supposedly prevented Susan Boyle from performing it, after she had made a trans-Atlantic and trans-continental flight for the express purpose of singing it on America's Got Talent. That whole mess happened about a week after I found it on the web, and rather than let people think I posted because of that flap, I just dropped it. But a happy ending demands attention; it turns out Lou Reed had nothing to do with refusing Boyle, and in fact, directed the video which now accompanies her version. Its a good one, but I'll just include the link here, because I want to embed the BBC version:

http://video.aol.com/aolvideo/aol-music/a-perfect-day/661983732001

A little background: the BBC is funded by a TV tax in the UK, which is forever decried by a tax-weary public. So from time to time BBC puts something together to demonstrate the superiority of non-commercial driven TV entertainment--freedom of artistry. This video however was also the BBC's centerpiece in 1997 for the charity they sponsor, Children in Need. Check out Bowie, Dr John, and my man, Tom Jones...

The charity sold this version, and versions featuring just the men, and just the women. Don't know where to find them now, but wouldn't they be cool?

Pumpkin Pix

2010-11-04T00:00:00.000-04:00

I did try the fancy design after all, and it was tedious work--I'll let the viewer decide if it was worth it.

And here's a cool sunset from a couple weeks ago--don't know why but we get some spectacular skies here.

Election Day, Don't You Dare Ruin My Halloween

2010-10-28T10:17:00.000-04:00

Anyone who knows me at all knows I love Halloween. One of my earliest blogs (Oct '08) explained my feelings about October 31, so I won't repeat it here. Instead, just a few observations and reflections on this year's activities.

First, there are two pumpkins in my garage that await my carving attention. Each year I am torn between attempting one of those amazing templates that you can buy or copy from the internet, and simply going with my instinct on the choppy scary face. The latter always wins because the former requires more patience than I am willing to expend. The result however has always been satisfactory, once I put that votive candle inside and turn off the lights.

Some of the neighbors are really into the season--one guy has several enormous blow-up and animated creatures in the yard; the black cat has glowing eyes and stands about 6 feet tall, and its head moves side to side. Very cool.

At school, this was a funny week. Jake, the 6th grader, forgot to tell me that each day was a different spirit day--hat day, camo day, etc. This being a short week ending today, I figured out for myself it would be costume day. Last year he was berserk about Freddy Kruger, and he did it up big; hat, face mask, clothes and claw glove. This year he made no plans, so last night I bought him one of those cheap Groucho Marx glasses/nose/mustache combos so he'd have something to wear today. He loved it, and put on his fedora to complete the "costume." I told him if anybody asked, he was every adult's worst nightmare, the Tax Man from the IRS. When I dropped him off at school this morning, there were the usual witches, princesses and ball-players (somebody always wears their football or little league uniform). One little girl had a great costume: a fake picket fence surrounded her and was full of plastic flowers. Jeez I love Halloween.

Many TV shows have a Halloween theme this week, usually very creative. Last night "Modern Family" was an all-out hoot, and possibly my favorite line ever uttered on a sitcom was said: asked if a neighbor and his wife were coming over for an over-the-top Halloween celebration, the neighbor shockingly replied his wife had left him. After a stunned and awkward moment, the crestfallen desertee said "I better go, I have a dish to wash." Classic. And so to the point.

I suppose I should mention the "Succeeding Holiday Encroachment" phenomenon. As we all love to marvel at the rapidity with which that most commercial of holy holidays hits the stores, I think we have a watershed this year. At the local CVS, you can find Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas merchandise on the aisles simultaneously. K-Mart also. Frankly, I think Thanksgiving is only in there to remind people of Black Friday (the massive sales event). Another shameless plug for my favorite holiday, Halloween is the ONLY holiday for which blatant commercialism is absolutely appropriate!

Last comment--the coming election is sucking attention away from Halloween. Don't do it, Election Day. Stop it, right now. Boy, you are really ugly this year, with possibly the most egregious mud-slinging ever. What happened to the issues? Aw, screw it, attack ads have a proven track record, so that's where we are spending those hidden-donor and corporate campaign funds. There must be A LOT of $$ in the coffers. Thanks a lot, Supreme Court. I am struggling about whom to vote for, because I only know the skeletons in the closets of the candidates, not their stand on issues. Wait a minute. OK, skeletons are appropriate for this time of year--maybe politics is finally getting into the spirit of the season. And politics are scary...suddenly it makes sense why Election Day is always so close to Halloween.

Jeez, I Keep Finding This Stuff

2010-09-27T11:01:00.000-04:00

Confession: The main reason I can't resist embedding videos here from time to time is it makes it easy to find those that I want to see again. A close second, I also find some that I want to share out of pure perversity. So here are two, one from each category, hope you enjoy.

First, a charming little remix ditty from the movie Up. Ummm, if you have not seen this Disney/Pixar inevitable classic, be forewarned (as I was not), the first 10 minutes are hard to watch--at least for me, gut-wrenchingly bitter-sweet. In fact, I don't ever want to see that segment, ever again. Not ever. Yeah, how does Disney manage to... darn those people...Nevermind, I am going to stop talking about it RIGHT NOW.
Sorry. Actually, it necessarily sets up the rest of the movie.

OK, this clip was put together by Aussie DJ Pogo, and I believe he said it took him 2 months of sampling words to get the chords right. To me, it sounds like something Sade might have sung if she was, you know, like, happier. It's worth a listen if for no other reason than it's the closest you're going to get to hearing Ed Asner sing.

Now for the perverse. More intellectually-charged than a Kardashian Family Reunion; more thought-provoking than a BassMasters TV marathon; more topically cogent than SpongeBob Squarepants--I present the artistic medium known as... the "Long-form Advertisement." Slightly reminiscent of SNL's skit "The Continental," this could not have been creepier if Christopher Walken himself did it. File this one under "Idon'tseewherethisisgoingohmygoddidhejust..."

10 Things You Didn't Know About Your Parents

2010-09-25T16:26:00.004-04:00

There must be a million things we don't know about our parents. Even if they were teens when we were born, they must have had years of grown-up experiences before we even cared to know. If my dad were still here, I'd ask him a lot about WWII, and my mom too--she was a Naval Officer, a WAVE. I'm sure there is plenty we DON'T want to know... but I thought it might be interesting to come up with 10 things my kids either didn't know, or didn't know the whole story, about their mom and/or me.
So here is a list, in no particular order:

1. My eyes each see colors slightly differently, probably because I mishandled a UV light when I was 11.
2. Before we were married, your mom volunteered helping patients at a free medical clinic in Gainesville, FL.
3. At age 14, I almost got my family kicked out of an apartment building after walking on the edge of the roof. It was about 10 stories up.
4. Your mom was a Store Detective at AAFES in 1979-80, and was a natural at catching shoplifters. After receiving threats from some people she caught, she switched to working in the warehouse--her shoulders and arms got so muscular she had to buy new shirts.
5. She spent her first AAFES paycheck on me--to buy a Fairchild video game, it was one small step above "Pong," but state-of-the-art at the time--we were the hit of the neighborhood.
6. Also in 1979, we owned a green moped and your mom rode it to and from work. I think it was a Honda.
7. My parents started me on 3 musical instruments in school before the last one "took;" first piano, then flute, finally trombone.
8. When your mom owned a craft consignment business in Michigan, she sometimes secretly bought the artists' work, to encourage them when business was slow.
9. Your mother used to have a random tooth positioned in front of her right upper canine; I loved her for it, she, of course, hated it. As a couple, it was our first major expense to get it fixed.
10. I flunked my first written drivers test in Florida at age 17--misidentified a traffic sign. Then I barely passed the actual driving test, so naturally, my first job after High School was as a car parts delivery driver.

Chant Songs I Have Known

2010-08-06T19:36:00.004-04:00

Everybody's heard of Gregorian chants, but I just learned that they are not sung only by men--how chauvinist of me. Apparently they have always been sung by both sexes of monastic orders, sometimes even in mixed company, for over a millennium. Named for Pope Gregory I from the 7th Century, who was credited with ordering the simplification and cataloging of music assigned to specific celebrations in the church calendar.

I recently heard on Public Radio that a search by a major record company resulted in the selection of nuns in a convent near Avignon, France, to produce a CD of their chanting. They sound pretty amazing from the sample I've heard. As happens it got me to thinking about chanting songs I'm more familiar with, and I've included three below.

This is the first one I remember, Witchi Tai To; interestingly it is a Native American peyote chant set to mellow music--adding to it's popularity? It came out when we were becoming aware of pollution to our environment, which was popularly connected to native respect for the land. "Water spirit feeling springing round my head... makes me feel glad that I'm not dead." Catchy, it's one of those things that stayed with me for a long time. Jack Johnson made a cover of this.

Next is the one I think everybody has heard, Return To Innocence by Enigma. What I just found out is that the chant was illegally sampled from a--get this--indigenous Taiwanese "Jubilant Drinking Song" that was recorded by two native Taiwanese on CD as part of a cultural exchange program in France! Almost as odd, the drum beat was sampled from Led Zeppelin's "When the Levee Breaks." I played this song so much in the car it drove my family nuts... all the time thinking it was Native American.

After doing a little research I found many Native American chants set to music. I thought this one was particularly representative and beautiful:

Hope you enjoyed!

Following up the last entry so as to actually write something

2010-07-22T20:05:00.003-04:00

Gotta get back into the blog habit and, as usual, I feel I must tie up issues from the last one I posted no matter how untimely it has become.

Well, as all know by now Abby Sunderland was found safe shortly after my last posting. I was very glad to hear it, and then allowed myself a brief excursion back into the "how on earth could her parents have allowed this" frame of mind. Aha, perhaps I was not alone. Turns out her family was shopping around a reality show based on the Sunderland kids and their love of life and all things adventurous. The dad said they pulled the idea when it became apparent the takers were going to go after the same slant I would have--namely "how on earth could her parents have allowed this."

At the heart of it is my, and apparently others, thought that a 16 year old girl shouldn't even be out of the house after midnight with her pals, let alone circumnavigating the globe alone. It just screams a certain naivete that no parent in the 21st century has any right to possess. All that aside, I wonder at a world where a full third of the population is starving, and yet a certain contingent spends their lives thrill seeking and "self-actualizing" as in the afore-mentioned stunt. Getting into the Guinness Book of records has taken up the time available for such idle pursuits as, say, community service, for one.

I sure couldn't talk if such people donated a part of their time serving on a soup kitchen line, for example. And, well, I can't talk anyway, since I'm not contributing either; having stopped contributions to the several charities I used to support. So at this point I'll drop the subject, and maybe contemplate why I myself am not a better person.... ah, this world in which we live...

I am usually optimistic at heart, and that included my assessment of the current recession--I was fairly certain it would turn the corner, and very soon too... but lately I have picked up on several things that have me a little worried.

First, there's been talk of calling this a double-digit recession--referring to the number of years it may continue, I believe. But that's not the most telling bit, especially since there have been nay-sayers on recovery all along, and always have been through the years. No, what worries me is the undertone that we are becoming less productive, more of an entitlement based society with unrealistic expectations on the part of our young work force. That's not good--we will never recover if we become lazy in comparison to the rest of the world.

Our productivity in terms of what we accomplish in an 8 hour day, compared to other "first world" countries, has always been high if not the highest. It, along with technological advances, has been the main mast of our "Ship of State." But a perfect storm of laziness, combined with stagnant technology advances and growing economies in Asia, will permanently break the mast.

Something pretty spectacular would have to come down the pike to get us through that storm. We better hope we master fusion energy or teleportation pretty darn soon...

So here's hoping that succeeding generations of Americans find their roots again in a good old fashioned work ethic--about that, I am still optimistic.

Praying for Abby

2010-06-10T17:22:00.002-04:00

As a father, and maybe just as a caring person, I am a little distraught by the current situation of young Abby Sunderland. Abby is a 16 year old girl who was attempting to be the youngest to circumnavigate the globe in her sailboat, Wild Eyes. I say was because maintenance issues forced her to miss that hurdle, but she continued on anyway. Now, her two manually activated emergency beacons have gone off while in the remote southern Indian Ocean just a few hours ago. Hearteningly, her automatic beacon has not activated, leaving hope the boat is upright and she may yet be safe. We don't know, and because of her remoteness help is 40 hours away and communication via radio is 11 hours away.

Having just returned from the wedding of my oldest daughter, I have been catching up on a lot of work here and that includes computer work--I've been falling behind on my blog too. Anyway, home page MSN just splashed a story about Abby, and searching a link I found myself in an article about the latest trend in young people doing very dangerous things with their parents' permission, like that 13 year old who scaled Mt Everest. The slant of the article was "what were they thinking?" I felt the same way, it got me angry--this business of wanting your children to "realize their dreams" and somehow placing that above common sense.

Hey, when I got back here from the New York wedding I found that my 11-year old stepson had finagled a 3-inch blade Buck Knife for his birthday by purchasing it with his own money--that thing is now in my possession. He has wanted a pocket/hunting knife for a long time but er, uh, HELL NO. What is an 11 year old doing with a "hunting knife" here in suburbia? Why does a 13-year old need to climb Mt Everest, a path which, last I heard, is still littered with 3 frozen corpses?

Anyway, here I was hating on permissive parenting while clicking on another link, this one Abby's on-scene blog via satellite link, and guess what? She uses Blogger, and among all the many choices available, her blog looks identical to mine, The Truth Eludes Us. Same colors, layout, background, etc. It was a shock that brought me back to earth and one simple sentiment--please God, bring her in safely. I don't care anymore what her parents were thinking--they are terrified but hopeful, and whatever their reasons for supporting this endeavor, it just doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that Abby be found safe.

While I am not the devotee I once was to organized religion, I still suspect there's a Big Guy who sort of manages things according to His own inscrutable rules. I don't pray as much to Him as I used to, and now when I do mostly it's a quiet thing wherein I close my eyes and think it. But I am not averse to humbly asking Him to watch over the young and naive, the helpless and the hopeless, or the lost souls of the Modern Age. And maybe intervene once in a while, as I feel sure He sometimes does. Please Father, help this child. Amen.

First to Die, Alternate Ending and Cancel!

2010-05-19T09:55:00.003-04:00

I wonder what it's like to be a TV actor who dies in the first 10 minutes of a new show. Particularly if it ends up being a hit like "Lost," it must be like that drummer who left the Beatles mere days before they went global phenom. For example, lots of people died in the first episode of "Lost." Actor Greg Grunberg was among them--uncharacteristically, but fortunately for him he immediately hit gold with "Heroes." Maybe the rest of those those guys should start a club, "Actors Who Came Thaaaat Close to a Hit." They could call it AWCHIT for short.

Recently I started watching Happy Town, a murder mystery/paranormal mix, in which the opening scene features a very familiar character actor (always remember the face, never the name!) being killed. I remember thinking "man, if this series takes off, that will suck major for him." He need not worry, after 3 episodes ABC is dropping it--to be honest, it was a little uneven though the cast was pretty smart.

Speaking of "Lost," apparently a number of alternate endings were made, probably to minimize the chance of spoiler leaks. I don't like that because they are sure to end up on the DVD collection, and like so many other disc Special Features, we will be left wondering what the original intention REALLY was. After all, once you have options, you can do audits, field tests, and so on to "pick" the end; and really, there should be one ending to anything--love it or not.

Bummer, so much of my enjoyment of life these days is commercial TV. Though I have HBO I rarely watch it, and I'm trying out NETFLIX but finding that much of the content is sub-standard indie fare. No, for catharsis, mostly I look forward to the handful of TV shows I follow. I am one of those people who start up with a show and quickly decide if I'm going to commit or not. Sadly, my commitment often means cancelation. Liked Flash Forward, it's canx'd (and likely no planned ending), hate "V," but that's coming back. ABC hasn't figured out that anything that follows "Lost" is going to look better than it really is.

It's as bad as you always thought--car buyer be afraid, be very afraid

2010-05-16T19:20:00.006-04:00

For the first time in over 2 years, I awoke this morning without a Nissan 350Z in the garage. I finally got up the courage to trade in that all-but-useless ego-pumping rocket toy for something nominally more practical, a Chevy Impala. It is a "pre-owned car" and of course, the buyer must always beware; I accepted that risk. What I was not prepared for was the degree to which they tried to screw me, which was unbelievable--worse, it was almost, dare I say it, evil. I'm not kidding. Let me explain.

Not A Complete Dummy.

First off, I did my homework. I scanned the papers and the internet for 3 months searching out the kinds of cars available, and the "sales" price versus the estimated value by net sites like Edmunds and Blue Book. Secondly, I lined up financing and did all the calculations so I knew what I could afford vs what value I could receive. The biggest variable was what to expect on the trade-in for the Z--internet estimates do not guarantee the dealership offer. For several reasons, I felt the time to act was now. I was leaning toward the same dealership we bought our last 2 cars from because, perhaps stupidly, I figured hey, they have to treat me right, I'm a repeat customer. Also being local, they could expect to see me again if I had a good experience and when I needed service. Heck, I might even get the "inside deal" like on "Seinfeld." I picked two vehicles off the internet to look at, and went there.

First Visit.

I admit, this should have been my first clue--none of the vehicles in the Used Lot had the prices in the window. Immediately I was suspicious--I mean come on. But I was armed with the internet prices the dealership had posted so I figured they could not duck their own numbers. Unfortunately, the internet lags reality and the primary vehicle my wife and I wanted was already sold. After getting a very non-specific estimate on the trade in value of the Z, I told them I would have to talk to the wife and regroup. I noted they didn't jump through their butts to try to shove something else down my throat, which I took as a symbol of good faith that I knew what I wanted and would be treated well when I came back.

Second Visit.

Sheila and I looked at 6 cars on the internet and picked two possibles, and three days later I went back. This time I took a free ride in the Impala, brought it home and showed Sheila. When I took it back, I said I liked it but Sheila was unsure. The salesman said "the wife has to be happy or there will be trouble down the line"--we both laughed and I said I'd be back the next day with a decision. Again I left without feeling pressured--I am definitely an "insider!"

Third Visit.

Sheila said OK to the Impala, so when I went back we immediately started the paperwork. In passing time, I told the salesman my target payment (let's call it X) and the reason I had to get a more functional car (Sheila's illness) and why the payments had to be near my goal (I can't work). Also that I couldn't do this if I didn't get close to the payoff on the Z, and lastly, that I had no money for a down payment (both because I don't have the cash!). I mean, these are the facts man, no bull, bottom line. I got knowing nods and mumbled assurances, and when the salesman went to the manager to get their offer, I was fairly sure it was all set. Mind you, at this point we had not mentioned the price of the Impala. I assumed their opening bid would be the internet price.

The Horror.

He returned with this offer: Monthly payments $X + $179, plus a down payment of $1500. And this is a good deal, he said. Completely dismissed everything I had told him. I was stunned--then I saw the price of the car--a full $5000 more than the internet price. And the Z trade-in was $1000 lower than the lowest internet estimate for a bare-bones Z, which mine is not. I calmly told him this was completely out of line, and he actually tried to convince me this was "the deal" and they couldn't do better. I asked him if he had internet on his computer, then showed him the internet price--that stopped him cold. All he could say was "they really need to tell us what they put on the website." Yeah, sure. I stood up and told him he was nowhere near what I could do and headed for the door--not dramatically, mind you, just convinced that I was wasting my time. He jumped up and asked me to wait while he told the manager about the internet price. When he came back, he said they could shave another $50 off the monthly price. Emphatically, I repeated everything I had said earlier about what I could realistically do, and was actually opening the door to leave when he got the Sales Manager to intervene.

The Sales Manager

Well, this guy was smooth, a whole lot more personable. He started by saying how much they had shaved off and couldn't we meet somewhere in the middle on good faith, etc., and I just said "whoa. It doesn't matter what you're telling me, I know what I can do," and I gave him the whole sob story. He must have seen my determination and said I was right, and he was going to meet my requirements. In fairness, he got me the payment I originally felt I could do--given the low end of the internet Z trade-in. I shudder to think what they would have done to me had I not been prepared. They knew I was a repeat customer, maybe they had computer notes saying "retired military, govt employee, lots of money, and so on," and just proceeded to highball me. I am still processing whether I will use them for servicing in the future.

In Closing

Years ago I test-drove a used van in Abilene TX; just happened to check all the pockets and cubbyholes and found an old registration. Uh-oh, the odometer noted on the paper, dated a year before, was 90k, while the odometer on the van was 35k--hint, time doesn't go backward and neither does an odometer. I pointed this out to the salesman, who feigned ignorance and distress, and announced he could never sell this vehicle and would immediately yadda yadda yadda. Yeah. I am absolutely convinced you will never get a "good deal" on a used car unless you buy from a private party or are in the business itself. It feels like the ultimate victimization, and must happen thousands of times every day. I didn't go private party because I was worried about selling a car I still owed so much on--I was worried about releasing the banks lien. Maybe I shouldn't have. My advice, if you want new, go with a buying service like AAA, Carsdirect or USAA; if used, do your homework and buy from real people.

On "Pitching a Bitch"

2010-04-22T14:02:00.004-04:00

Not long ago
I had an itch
To chuck it all
And pitch a bitch.

The moment passed
but not for free;
said one crass word,
or maybe three.

It happened quick
when I let go,
At someone close.
And don't you know

they took it hard.
And unexpected,
apology
was not accepted.

Though days ago,
it figures large
in things like chores,
and who's in charge,

and whether I'll get
sympathy
for wounded pride
or injured knee.

I don't know;
if we wait a while,
will we still joke
and share a smile?

Or has it changed
forevermore;
a verbal scar,
unsettled score.

I'd take it back
if such could be
but nothing works
that easily.

So pitch that bitch
go on, dispense
without a thought
to consequence.

Or down the line
instead reflect,
bad things unsaid
don't feel neglect.

The narration of our lives

2010-03-30T11:06:00.002-04:00

I recently saw The Great Buck Howard, a movie starring John Malkovich and Colin Hanks. While I watched, I couldn't help but think about Colin trying to get out of his father's shadow. Tom Hanks is like the male Jennifer Aniston or Sandra Bullock; an iconic, person-next-door kinda, much beloved actor/celeb. His son just doesn't have the same magnetism, at least not yet. For instance, the kid tells nothing with his eyes or face.

While I mused over whether Colin is any good, or at least watchable, I realized part of what bugged me was the narration. Colin is narrating his own story, the movie being a tad more about him than his quirky employer. As if his acting isn't enough to carry the story, he tells us what he's thinking, or about to do. Is it harder to write a screen play in which the characters' lines and acting carry the story without the spoken insights? Can a good actor overcome insight gaps with facial expression, movements, gestures? Does Kevin Costner overcome his narra...--nevermind. Don't don't get me started on Costner. I love Field of Dreams, BUT... guess I need to think on that some more.

What are examples of narration in a good story? A number come to mind. The Princess Bride, The Big Lebowski, The Shawshank Redemption. I can't imagine any of them without the omniscient narrator embellishing things. And hey, I'd listen to anything Morgan Freeman narrates, including a Denny's breakfast menu.

In making a story, there are two kinds of narration: reliable and unreliable. The three examples above are reliable, the narrator is giving you true insights; an excellent example of unreliable would be The Usual Suspects. The narrator there, Kevin Spacey, is making things up as he goes along but you don't know it (for sure) until the end. His unreliable narration IS the story. The same is true of Edward Norton in Fight Club. So maybe I'll make this generality for the moment--while reliable narration EMBELLISHES a story, unreliable narration tends to BE the story.

If art imitates life, what does that say about our narration of our lives? That voice in our heads, our stream of consciousness, the avatar of our self image. Are we reliable or unreliable narrators? I'm thinking we pretty much reliably embellish our stories, and here's why.

I once received a real gift in the form of a blind personal evaluation conducted by a military school I attended. I was in my 40s at this point and well established in my career. The evaluation included opinion sheets filled out by by at least 3 each of my subordinates, my peers and my bosses. The results would be anonymous except by group, and revealed to me only after I left my job, so as to prevent any hard feelings. After attending this school, you move on to a different job posting.

My own opinion of myself was pretty good--that I was overall competent and valued, responsive to my bosses, loyal to my peers and just a hell of a great boss to subordinates. To mix the poll up a bit though, I sent one to a boss I "knew" didn't like me, a friend I considered my "very closest," and subordinates I thought would at least be a spectrum of opinion, from great to so-so.

I'll get straight to the point--across the board I was almost universally average at best. In a couple areas, a little below. That means the boss that hated me didn't destroy me, my best friend didn't elevate me, and worst of all (I thought), not one of my subordinates worshiped me. In hot-button areas like competence, fairness, personality--average. It gets worse, because there may have been a "halo effect" in which people tend to be a little kinder than completely truthful. Well, I refuse to believe I'm a complete ogre, but clearly my self image was wrong.

What to do, what to do. I like to think I adjusted myself both to be more realistic and to improve the areas I already thought were good. I don't know how I did, because I'll never get blind honesty again like that again; but I know for sure that like the saying goes, never believe your own press.

As far as movies, most narration is not a cop-out, and mostly reliable--but you're not being painted into a corner like we probably do in real life...

Once Again, Health Care

2010-03-28T14:57:00.004-04:00

Found this site called darwinsfinance.com while searching the web for pro and con arguments for the current health care bill. Though his primary focus is finance, he wrote an excellent article "What's wrong With THIS Health Care Reform."

Darwin's not a fan, and makes some disturbing points about "to ration or not to ration" (6 kidneys, 10 transplant patients, who decides???). He takes big exception to some shameful back-room deals made to get this legislation, like the deal made with unions--grrr.

Yeah, it's a little ugly. But don't lose the main point for a bitter sidebar. Yeah, making side deals sucks, but always had 'em, probably always will... what about what we achieved?

Truthfully, after reading up a bit, I see a lot wrong with this bill. However, I've taken the viewpoint that suck or not, we had to get SOMETHING on paper, or we would never even BEGIN to address this heinous problem everyone agrees will bankrupt the country some day. Are you forgetting that since Nixon, we have been trying to "fix" health care with no luck? Even back in '71, they could see the train wreck coming.

It's a good thing we can agree it will bankrupt the country if we do nothing--because from that point on, there is no agreement. So how do we move forward? Better off trying to fix a program in place, than to get one off the ground.

For good measure, Darwin references several pro and con blogs: My Journey to Millions (gist: is this constitutional?), Len Penzo (gist: we'll have buyers remorse) and Financial Samurai (gist: insuring the uninsured is worth it). It is worth reading all three to get some other viewpoints; you may find that each of them makes good points, or contains at least a little emotional argument, incomplete logic or questionable "facts." There may be legitimate concern on how the insurance companies will fight back. There will almost certainly be unintended consequences. If you want a really depressing viewpoint, do a search on "what nurses say about Health care reform." Man, who to believe...

Lest we forget, we are already sharing the costs of basic health care for all in the form of Emergency Room's that can't (and rightly shouldn't) turn away patients. So, Mr. and Mrs. Entitlement, quit bitching about footing the bill. And get better informed about what you stand to lose by this legislation, which in most cases is little or nothing.

GOP got you riled up? Guess why, they aren't in power; and elections are at stake this year. How are we going to pay for this? Is it really going to "save" us money in the long run? I personally find much of what the Dems do is distasteful, I am in fact a registered Republican. But it is worth mentioning that a GOP controlled congress and GOP president didn't even try to address health care. Nor did they reduce the federal budget, deficit, or the size of government. Does it bother you that not one Republican reached across the aisle in an effort to get something passed, for the greater good? It bothers me. Some things really should transcend partisanship.

It's interesting to see the demographic that comprises the organized protests... all I'm saying is do some research, listen to both sides, and check your facts people. You may still disagree with what's happened but at least you won't be parrots or sheep.

I hope this damn post makes sense...

The Stuff I Love

2010-03-27T15:51:00.005-04:00

I don't know how much this blog is read by others than my family, but I noticed my profile got 10 quick hits right after I wrote something on health care. Well, I like getting comments and it's gratifying to know someone is reading these, so more is coming on health care shortly; but, I'm giving serious thought to starting a second blog just to embed music videos for my own reference. Most of today's music just feels soul-less to me, for me there is no comparison to the 70's and 80's.

So anyway.... here's three. I found this stuff that I saw on British television when I lived there in the 80's. These videos didn't get much play, if any, in the states.

First up is Kate Bush, who does some weird stuff but also some beautiful stuff. It's called Breathing, from 1980, and it's about a baby afraid to come out of the womb due to the threat of nuclear weapons.

Next, one of my '80s favs, Howard Jones. This is not one of the songs for which he is well known. But after seeing this performance, he is probably the first musician that started me thinking of musicians as artists, and this is definitely artful. And spooky. From 1985, Hunger for the Flesh (forgive him the flat moment or two).

Last one, just for fun, Nik Kershaw. Though there is a definite message here, this is just light pop fare, and Nik was definitely publicized as a teen idol-type. But don't take him lightly, he was a solid arena performer, he wrote great stuff and still performs, and if you find a video of this song in his acoustic version, you will be very impressed.

Hope you enjoyed. OK, next post, something with a political slant.

Healthcare--Who is the enemy?

2010-03-23T11:26:00.004-04:00

In 2003, Tony Blair, former UK Prime Minister and one of my favorite politicians, addressed a group of British Ambassadors with this speech (in part):

"I am not surprised by anti-Americanism; but it is a foolish indulgence. For all their faults and all nations have them, the US are a force for good; they have liberal and democratic traditions of which any nation can be proud. I sometimes think it is a good rule of thumb to ask of a country: are people trying to get into it or out of it? It's not a bad guide to what sort of country it is."

To be fair, he wasn't the first to espouse this sentiment. George Will called it "the gate test" in '92, and in '94 Timothy Ash called it "the Statue of Liberty test." Neither of them was referring merely to Mexican border incursions; in truth, the US limits immigration in both number and in terms of what the prospective immigrant brings to the table, due to the incredible number of applications each year.

I feel this is kind of a "bottom line" to which we should defer when doubting some of the stuff that is happening in our country. Some people I know, who shall remain nameless, are quick to jump to the negative stuff and cry "our nation is falling apart" or some-such. Why do we keep supporting Israel when they openly snub us? What in the heck is Texas doing with their history books? Why do we still have racism and homophobia in our country? I'm not going to stand for this health care legislation...

Ah, there it is--such unbelievable divisiveness, not seen in our country since social security legislation, this "first step toward communism..." Now that it has passed the House, a number of states are taking it to court for 10th Amendment violation of state's rights, and more specifically, the lack of authority to force the american people to buy something (health care). Don't kid yourself, if you look at the vote along party lines, it is obvious special interests are playing a part in damning this legislation. My research is not complete, but it looks like most of the states filing this are being led by GOP Governors or Attorney's General. As has been the case since Nixon, everybody agrees on reasonable health care for all, but not on how to do it--end result, until now, is it never happened.

My point in opening this blog with Blair's quote is simple; we are a country with flaws despite our greatness, but what makes us great is our consistent track record to make corrections that always bring us within tolerances so attractive to immigrants. Shouldn't we be proud of our actions to legislate and improve tolerance of all kinds? Don't we stand for human rights in the world? Aren't we constantly providing aid of all kinds to other nations?

We have our setbacks--we should have learned something about our actions in Iraq from our actions in Viet Nam perhaps; but the threat of international NGO terrorism is something new we are learning to deal with, with sometimes faltering steps. We will get better at it.

I think the same will hold true with health care. Is it perfect? No. Adjustments are forthcoming, with time. We are not our own enemy; we are the force of balance that will fine tune the thing everyone wanted, a fair and equitable universal health care system. We just had to start with something, and finally--we did. Have faith...

Where are all the good horror movies?

2010-03-01T17:35:00.002-05:00

The most prolific horror movies today are pure crap. The whole "slasher" genre. As much as I love a good scare, somebody sold my beloved horror world to pure unadulterated sell-out profit mongers. They care nothing for the craft. They keep rewriting the same "murder the good-looking people" plot lines. They are even remaking them; Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elmstreet, Texas Chainsaw. Why are people going to these movies? I love a good horror story but I am appalled by the idea that simply killing a long string of attractive young people in gory ways immediately before, during or after sex is somehow entertainment. It's just disgusting, but worse, and more unforgivably, uninteresting.

People, true horror is not sci-fi, mass-slashing or cataclysm. You have to build horror, it has to creep up on you, not ride in on a bullet train during an earthquake.

How about the classic monsters? One of my fav books of all time is Salem's Lot, possibly the rightful successor to Bram Stoker's Dracula as the quintessential blood sucker tome. However, vampires have been done to death and, as far as TV and movies goes, thanks but no thanks. Frankenstein monster? Over-cooked. The mummy? I say "let's call it a wrap." Werewolves? They used to be my favorite because of the tragic dimension to the curse. But that oil field is drained as well; I'm told the recent remake of The Wolfman is a real howler...

So I'm not fingernailing the chalkboard for any more of those movies. My fear is that many folks are quick to lump zombies in with that overexposed crowd and stop making those movies--and here, I cry foul.

People overlook one fact about the zombie milieu; it is actually two genres in one--monsters and the apocalypse--lending itself to many more permutations. Werewolves, vampires and ax-wielding sexually-frustrated nut cases make for very personal dramas played out, most commonly, in a near claustrophobic stage setting. Zombies are almost by definition pandemic and near-global. The essential zombie movie inescapably deals with heroes and/or anti-heroes scrounging off a lost civilization while dodging horrific caricatures of their previous lives. Think of the possibilities!

There are variations, i.e. fast and slow zombies. A zombie story can be claustrophobic or span a continent, or most likely both. (SPOILER WARNING IN THIS PARAGRAPH) Recently released to DVD, Zombieland reinvents the genre by painting zombies almost as backdrop to a buddy story with a romantic interest. That movie delivers comedy and a few good scares without ever losing any of the main characters to the imminent threat. Refreshing change from most horror entries.

Another variation, the original zombies were not flesh eaters. The result of voodoo practices, zombies were meant to be people whose free will has left them, possibly they are dead. But ultimately they are being punished, or used as slave labor, and the horror comes purely from the threat of becoming a zombie, not being victimized by one. Movies from the '30s through the '50s were populated by that genre.

So lets not close the door on this most fertile territory just yet. You know what they say: "When there is no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the earth..." Well, how about we temporarily rent the freespace in Hades so we can get a few more of these little treasures on celluloid, or disc, or whatever media?

At least until World War Z hits the theaters...

Gotta stop imbedding videos...

2010-02-28T12:00:00.002-05:00

I'm really trying to quit this but I keep coming across the neatest stuff. I'm not even looking really, just clicking around the web and finding things that I can't ignore. Keepin' it short here, first up is an educational tutorial. When's the last time you cried? For me it was watching this. Grab a Mountain Dew and prepare to enjoy the fruits of the World Wide Internet. Word! What?

Next, Mike Nesmith's Cruisin'. Considered quintessential '70s LA wackiness, it is one of the first music videos made, predates MTV and considered by some to have hearkened it (rather than go into all that here, check his wiki page). Also fascinating--his mom invented liquid paper. Great world!

Reverie of the absurd... or is it.

2010-02-26T11:28:00.003-05:00

From the files of Story! True!!

My day begins early. Well, earlier than I'd like; getting up at 6:30 to run the 10 year old to school because--no bus service. Maybe you've noticed, and this is confirmed by sleep studies, there is a "sweet time" after you awaken, for whatever reason, during which you can likely slip back into sleep fairly easily--but wait too long and you will stare at the ceiling in a supine form of non-water torture.

Since I am about to drive, I force myself into wakefulness to make sure I'm sharp and safe. On rare occasion, I nap when I get back. That happened today when at around 8:30 AM, I slipped into reclination and promptly found myself at the end of a check-out counter in a brightly lit grocery store. I don't normally remember dreams, but, well, you'll see...

A voice says, "You have to check her pouch."

OK, let's get some situational awareness. At the customer end of the counter is a kangaroo holding a shopping basket tightly to her chest with both forepaws. Below the basket, it is clear that her pouch has a slight pooch. The kangaroo is kind of short--so, maybe it's a wallaby.

The voice belongs to the cashier, who appears to be an enormous beaver. Well, I can't see the tail so it could be a giant otter or some other rodent-ish relative. Beave looks me square in the face and repeats "you will have to check her pouch." I guess we're assuming kangaroos or wallabys are prone to shoplift.

My first reaction is whoa, hold on Tex... why do I have to check her pouch? Clearly I am just a bagboy, situated at the end of the conveyor. I am making minimum wage here. Why doesn't Beave do it? Aren't cashiers higher on the food chain for that sort of thing? Maybe Beave is peeved or has marsupial-envy or something.

Beave patiently waits. No, I'm not feeling pressure from Beave, but I am feeling pressure... more accurately, it's a kind of creeping horror.

I don't want to stick my hand in that pouch. No. I don't even want to look. What if there's a joey in there nursing? Ugh, kangaroo milk. Or, it might be a huge wad of belly-button lint with...stuff in it. I mean, you know, what the heck-all can be in a kangaroo's pouch? How do they clean it? Think in terms of what's behind your sofa cushions, behind the fridge, or on the floor of your car. I am thinking "Listen Beave, if you want to rescue that bag of Doritos or some such, call the manager--and tell him to bring welder's gloves or a ten foot pole. I think that's like a Code Six."

Suddenly the phone rings, for real, and I am awake and spared further reflection on pouch detritus. I don't recognize the number on caller ID. However, I do note the area code is one number off from my own and so, expect to tell the caller they miss-dialed. Maybe they realized that when I answered, because no one spoke. While I listen to silence, I briefly think hey, what if my number is one-off from John Mayer's and this is Jennifer Aniston calling to bitch me out for the Playboy interview? In that case, guess I don't sound much like John Mayer.

Whatever. The interlude is short enough I am able to close eyes and slide back to the grocery and, sure enough, I do. Apparently the crisis has passed--because kanga/wallaby has left, Beave is scanning a Lunchable and I am back to bagging for minimum wage. Phew, close one, eh Beave? That's pretty much where things end.

Some people I know would be all over this as sub-conscious, sub-textual, sub-something. What did the pouch represent? And why the beaver? I prefer to ask simply, why ask why? If you google "why ask why" you might find this little gem:

http://www.pshrink.com/humor/Why_Ask_Why.html

Food for thought.

My Favorite Joke, and a Cool Vid (I think)

2010-01-31T17:08:00.002-05:00

I am a member of the cult that worships Steven Wright. I first saw this guy in the UK, of all places. Brit TV is not at all like ours. For one thing, they have mastered the art of actually limiting a story arc and satisfyingly concluding a TV series, rather than milking it into banality or worse, getting canceled before conclusion. For another thing, they still have variety shows.

I think it was in '85 when I saw a variety show featuring "three very unusual American comedians." The host actually warned the audience to be prepared for something they had never seen before. One was Richard Lewis, and I think the second was Sam Kinison. To be sure, the audience didn't know what to make of either of these guys, though there was polite laughter. But the third was totally alien to them--Steven Wright. His one-liners were so unlike anything they'd ever heard that the first four jokes fell flat in silence. I thought they were funny, but it took the Brits that many to adjust. I think one of them was: "It's a small world... but I wouldn't want to paint it."

My favorite goes like this: "I woke up this morning and noticed everything in my house had been replaced by exact replicas." ... pause... "I shook my wife up and said 'honey, someone has replaced everything in the house with exact replicas.' She said 'who are you?'" Completely deadpan delivery--it just doesn't get anymore random than that.

An aside, years later I found out there is mental disorder in which people actually believe someone very close to them has been replaced by an exact duplicate. It's called "illusions des sosies" french for "illusion of doubles." Right out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Creepy, huh?

OK, from the "Ahead of it's Time" department, a video dedicated to the '70s culture involving non-tobacco cigarettes, pipes, hookas, sugar cubes, stamps and mushrooms, to name a few. I love the guitar, you only hear that variety today in smooth jazz. Pre-Stevie and Lindsey Fleetwood Mac:

Pastoral Moments at the Cardio Clinic

2010-01-27T12:16:00.003-05:00

Sometimes businesses use decor and/or background music to enhance a customer's pleasant experience, or alternately sooth a jolting one. Sometimes it's just the workers there who take this initiative, and lucky for me, such was the case with my recent visit to the cardio clinic. As I lay on a table sliding into some kind of tomography thing with a radioactive thallium drip attached to my right arm, I was strangely calm. Part of it was the reassuring presence and friendly demeanor of the technician, but I realized I was also relaxed by the music.

Noting from my records that I was a veteran, the tech mentioned in passing that he was a Viet Nam vet who had survived the Tet offensive. That got immediate respect from me even before he detailed the bullet wound that earned him medical retirement. We briefly traded stories of those who did not pass unscathed through that '60s hellish nightmare; his, much more cogent for having been there. But mostly he was quiet. My mind settled on to the background sounds, which comprised the machine's magnetic hum and a CD of old jazz and blues tunes. For the next 20 minutes I heard Louis Armstrong and Billie Holiday, and others I could not place.

That's not music I usually listen to, though I can still appreciate it. During a test that can tell if your heart is screwed up, it's the kind of music that nicely distracts. It was from a CD the tech had brought in on his own. If it had had any Fats Waller on it, the tech might have been surprised I would have recognized it. How many average white guys have ever even heard of Fats Waller? My dad got me interested in him when I was a kid, and he bought me one of Fats' albums--wish I still had it. Hold tight, brother.

After the test, the tech took it a step further by showing me examples of typically bad results vs my results. Although not technically qualified to comment, this is what he does for a living 5 days a week, so you got to give him respect. He said it wasn't really rocket science since the test pretty much spells it out in obvious pictures. Anyway, I now have about an 85% opinion that I'm not going to spar with a stroke in the immediate future. I'll get the 97.4% confidence (no kidding, that's the stat the doc quoted) opinion in the near future from my PCM.

Well, I can't say enough for bedside manner. This was the most pleasant, potentially disastrous experience I've ever had. I honestly believe I was even prepared for bad news, and will remain so up to seeing the PCM. Should there be more to deal with along these lines, I know a few songs I'd like to listen to...

Searching Youtube et al

2010-01-22T12:30:00.003-05:00

Altho I don't have a facebook or youtube account (still a social network chicken), one thing I've really enjoyed is searching old songs I heard in the 70's and 80's and watching videos of performances and remixes. Youtube has a bunch but there are many sites to scan.
Just goofing around today, I came across a fun item that captures one of my favorite Yes songs with an imaginative video, actual origin unknown. I'm experimenting with embedding stuff, so here goes--maybe? This one is from Metacafe...

Owner of A Lonely Heart (Klonhertz Remix) - Click here for the funniest movie of the week

What to tell a 10-year-old

2010-01-14T17:32:00.003-05:00

I started this entry the day after the earthquake hit Haiti, and am just getting back to it now. Because such large scale disasters all have a very similar pattern, it's not hard to predict what would come next, and sure enough this disaster held true. It runs something like this: disaster, gather your senses, try to help self/others, find hospitals inundated/destroyed, try to find food/water/shelter, experience widescale looting/lawlessness, tent cities with sanitation and disease threats, large refugee movement, problems with communities absorbing refugees, and so on. It takes time to move help in and get organized.

A 7.0 earthquake hitting the poorest country in the western hemisphere is a double hit. 7.0 is the equivalent of a few nukes going off; and the logistics of helping people in a disaster of this magnitude are daunting, made worse by a modest infrastructure even before the quake almost completely scragged most of what they had.

The situation was updated minute to minute with more bad news, such as airplanes, the fastest form of immediate aid, being turned away. That's predictable too, since large planes need gas, a parking space and vehicles to offload them--logistics 101. (It rankles me a bit that the media almost immediately asked why it was taking so long for the US to mobilize help. Few understand the sheer immensity of what this entails.)

In the midst of this I got concerned about what I should be telling the resident 10-year-old about it. The news can inundate young minds with horror images even in a passing glance of TV or paper. I asked him every day what they were telling him in school, and closely monitored what he saw on TV; thankfully the direst images were not randomly splashed on Nick or Cartoon Network.

Surprisingly though, the schools here did not choose to discuss this with the 5th graders, so he is not getting any perspective except from his parents/guardians. So, I told him about the nature of the disaster, and a little about what it means to the people there (without being graphic about the tens of thousands of individual horrors being experienced). He was attentive but not deeply concerned, and I think that is probably typical for a 10 year old. However, the fallout of this earthquake will descend for quite some time and may eventually pierce even a grade schooler's simple world.

So what should we teach about this? It is an opportunity to compare to our own circumstance and see what we'd do to prepare; also to understand the challenges of keeping civilization on track in the midst of utter chaos. A major point would be on sympathy for the victims, how we might help them, and our obligation to do so. Lastly, not miss an opportunity to tell once again how fortunate we are to be living as well as we do, and not take it for granted. Preparedness, empathy, charity, community.

It would be great if kids never had to face the cruel side of nature, or the fact of our mortality, before they were ready as young adults. But, just not realistic. So, I will calmly ask each day what my fifth grader has heard about Haiti, and take a moment to touch on the points above. We'll see how it goes.

10 Things to do in 2010

2010-01-10T10:32:00.002-05:00

New Year's resolutions? A good and bad thing. Good that you have good intentions, something to strive for, and I want always to improve. However, bad in that they say you will likely fail at all or most and the attendant psychic and/or emotional damage decreases your satisfaction with life in general, or something like that. There's supposed to be some statistic supporting that statement, but I don't need it; I only have to look back...

Actually, there was that one year I lost weight. It was a significant amount too, and I was quite pleased with myself, thank you Weight Watchers. Add in a couple years in which I was actually very fit, in the 90th-plus percentile for the adult male population according to AF statistics. But by and large, I set goals that were probably unrealistic or at least, deemed unimportant as the year elapsed. But I also know most were doomed because they were just intentions, without a solid game plan.

This year, I'm going to try a to-do list, not resolutions--there's a difference, though slight. These would still benefit from a plan but I will not outline that here--suffice to say I am in the planning stages--first comes the list. Not surprisingly, it starts with food.

1. Try the Taco Bell Al Fresco menu. I do love The Bell. This may be the classic marriage of less guilt and less taste, but maybe it won't disappoint, ... much.
2. Dump the 350Z. You'd think any man in his 50's would shuck a gonad over one of these, but not this guy. Disappoints on so many levels...
3. Watch more TV (well, every list really should have at least one sure-fire thing on it, and this is Lost's final season).
4. Go for walks, maybe start jogging. Yeah, the classic and perennial resolution, but I really want to do this; if it doesn't happen, there's always number 3.
5. Write something really intelligent on my blog. Hey, I'm trying.
6. Take down the Christmas tree. You might think this one is a sure thing too.
7. Hit the beach. Believe it or not, I only went once last year, and it's less than a mile from here.
8. Hit the local Chucky Cheese. It's not about the food this time. OK, it never was. But you got to have the requisite 10-year old with you or it's just creepy...
9. See an adult movie. I mean, a movie aimed at adults, not 10-year olds!!!
10. Go to my daughter's wedding. It's the least I can do since I'm not paying for it. Seriously, it will be like doing one of the 12 tasks of Hercules for me to pull this off, but don't worry honey, I will be there.

So. we'll see how the kick-off of the second decade of the new millennium goes for this fortunate soul. It is certainly started with the best of good intentions.

A Thought on Ought

2009-12-29T15:35:00.002-05:00

Consider the ought.

When was the last time you saw the word "ought" in print? Myself, I can't recall, but it must have been a long time because, well it looks odd to me. So long in fact that I wasn't sure how to spell it and, hold on to your pippik, I found out you can spell the same word as "aught." How many words do we have two legit spellings for, I wonder. Not a lot, I'm thinking, but that undertaking smells like serious research, so, maybe another time. Back to ought, which I prefer over aught.

This is an auxiliary verb. What? More research. Hmmm, an aux verb (keepin' it short) is a word that helps a main verb. We all know main verbs as those that you can generally put a "to" in front of, such as to fish, to clean, to eat, among thousands of others. So it works like this: ought to fish, ought to clean, ought to eat. Turns out "oughtn't" and "hadn't ought to" are perfectly legitimate uses of the word. And all this time I thought I was cool by slinging southern slang.

Uh-oh, there's more--ought is a modal auxiliary verb, of which there are ten: can, could, may, might, ought, shall, should, will, would, and must. I love this part--they are all called "defective," because as verbs, they can't stand alone. Shoot, if they were people, we'd have to find 6 or 7 words in a phrase to describe this attribute because, well, "defective" is just ugly.

I got to thinking about ought not as a verb but as a synonym for zero, another legit use of the word, because when we enter 2010, we are about to leave the ought-single digit years behind. In 2000 we turned a millennium, but we also entered the special ought years, those with a zero in front of the last digit.

It seems to me this should have been a particularly special decade, like it was for my grandparents. They were born in the 1880's so their wild twenties were spent in 1900 through ought-nine. When they wanted to impress me with hardships, the impossible, the incredible, etc, they'd start out by saying "back in ought-six..." followed by 20 feet of snow or somesuch.

I think they set me up, because I felt like these should have been watershed years by virtue of their "ought" and so far I don't think of them that way. I should have known this would happen though. It started with Prince saying "Party like it's 1999." I didn't see a particularly big deal with that party when it finally came. Prince probably did though, he'd been thinking about it since he wrote that damn song in '82.

To be fair, these years were certainly eventful in a bad way--9/11, tsunami, Afghanistan, Iraq, New Orleans, gas over $4/gallon, and in at least one good way with our first minority president, just to name a few. But correct me if I'm wrong, nobody refers to those events as in ought-one, or ought-seven or ought-eight. If anything, they say oh-one, or oh-seven. That's just not evocative enough, we really need ought.

I take some solace in the fact it's not too late to use ought. Unlike the turn of the previous century, the turn of the millennium will allow us to say ought-ten, ought-eleven, and even ought-thirteen if Nostradamus, the Mayan Calendar and the Discovery Channel are wrong.

So, I'll give this ought thing another look in a few years if I'm still around; I'd hate to think my grandparents snookered me.

My Favorite Aphorisms

2009-11-30T21:11:00.000-05:00

Back when I used to speak in public as a part of my job, I became aware of the value of a good quote. So great were some, I occasionally built my comments around them just so I could use them. Over the years I acquired several books of quotes, including Shakespeare and Attila the Hun. There were also some compendiums, but with the advent of the internet I didn't need them anymore. I liked Winston Churchill a lot, what an amazing wordsmith. Knowing how the British Parliament worked, I thought surely he must have had that rowdy bunch spellbound often. It dulled my ardor just a little to learn that, much like our own congress does now, he added many of these comments to the official record while out of session. Nevertheless, powerful stuff. But I am also moved by stuff heard in the course of the day, from everyone from friends to bosses. I wish I could remember all of them, there have been a lot; but memories get fuzzy. Here are a few, unadorned by context--see if you can find your own:

- "When the phone rings, I answer it."
- "Eventually, we must come to the table of reality."
- "Things are rarely perfect, but they are quite often adequate."
- "You pays your money, you takes your chances."
- " 'To each, his own,' the Frenchman said as he kissed the pig's ass."
- "Sometimes, you just gotta say 'Oy.' "
- "Gravity always wins."

Connectedness again; or Apophenia Part III; or Banks are Evil

2009-11-04T15:48:00.004-05:00

PART 1. The other day I read that 74% of all bankruptcies were related to a catastrophic illness in the family, which was not covered all or in part by any insurance. This number is one of the data points used to heighten awareness for the public debate on health care reform, at least in part because of the impact on the economy. Now if this statistic is true, wouldn't you think the banking industry would be pushing congress hard for health care reform? Have you seen any evidence of such? If they are doing so, I haven't seen anything from them on TV or the internet, or on the 2-3 times a week I read the paper. And I watch a lot of TV. Isn't bankruptcy logically connected to the even larger number of sub-prime loan defaults? Shouldn't the banks care???

PART 2. According to Opensecrets.org, a website of the Center for Responsive Politics, there are 904 active lobbyists for the Department of Health and Human Services. It is 4th in rank for registered lobbyists only after both houses of Congress and the DoD. From a cursory review, not one of the 904 was a bank (I checked all the "Bank of..." possibilities, and looked up a couple big names--they weren't on the list). As you might expect, the list is largely pharmaceutical companies and medical profession associations. If the banking interests are hidden by virtue of large holding or parent companies whose names I don't recognize, then my observation is flawed; but I'm betting not. By issue, namely Health, 2,271 lobbyists filed reports with the government in 2009 and again I could find no one from the banking industry among them. Moreover, health care was the number one $$ expenditure by Federal lobbyists this year. Here's a link with more info: http://www.opensecrets.org/news/2009/10/federal-lobbying-boom-continue.html

PART 3. Assuming banks are well aware of the connection, we are left to wonder how seriously bankruptcies actually affect the banking industry. Apparently banks can still see a profit through write-offs. Forget altruism for a moment, if there was a potential profit to be had, or even cost avoidance, shouldn't the banks be more vocal about helping people avoid bankruptcy? So, what does the banking industry lobby for? Well, there was the big change 10 or so years ago that allowed them to enter the mortgage industry--the sub-prime disaster a result of this and poor oversight by our government. But they are keeping busy--these days the banks are hustling to change peoples' charge account terms to beat out the deadline for Pres. Obama's charge card reforms. We've received notices from Citi, HSBC and Capital One telling us what they're going to do. Reining these people in is most welcome, but most importantly, banks are still allowed to charge the highest interest rate to the poorest people under ceretain circumstances.

Few people read this blog, but if anyone can point out to me how these comments are flawed I will gladly print a retraction and sheepishly fold my tent. Takers?

Subnote: Lots of talk about what the President hasn't done that he promised to do pre-election; personally I knew he couldn't close Guantanamo and get us out of SWA immediately and yet I still voted for him. Face it, once you're in the seat you find out a lot more about the wheels within wheels complexities of these issues, and have to deal wisely with all of it. Here's two things he did do: first, the aforementioned credit industry changes, fixing what he characterized as "unfair" but I call downright evil; second, he issued Executive Order 13490, which created new restrictions on former lobbyists appointed to the executive branch. Read this second one as stopping lobbyists who used to be members or have unprecedented access to insider influence with administrations--a direct assault on unfair advantage gained by "insiders." Yay Prez!

Further on musings from Oct 15

2009-10-18T12:34:00.002-04:00

When I check for reader comments on a blog, I read and reread my own work to see if it could have been written better, or was worthless altogether. The worthless test may be pointless, since a blog is almost by definition an open diary and therefore its own reason to exist. However, so much has been said about self-absorbed soap-boxers dumbing down the web with worthless dribble, one has to wonder if one's actions add to the pap. Then again, does one really care? Merrily I roll along...

How did I come up with those musings from the 15th? Well, the first one is about food, 'nuff said. Oh for the good old days when so many foods were cooked in animal lard, like bacon grease. Eggs cooked in the leftover bacon grease were great but probably the poster child for a coronary (cholesterol, nitrosamines and fat--the perfect storm). Once upon a time McDonalds fries cooked in lard were far better than they are now, and I think they are currently the best.

On reflection, the comment about the bench car seats may be a bit chauvinist. Certainly the times were more chauvinistic. In this case, were the girlfriend driving (highly unlikely for the times) you would never see the guy squinched up next to her. But the scenario also includes my nostalgia for the concept of a "date." I am told most young people don't go on dates anymore, instead opting for group activities and only pairing up if/when they decide to "hook up." If that's true I think it's really sad, and they are missing out on a very special part of life.

The last two musings are related. The Thai kid, whose first name was Pote (long "O," silent "E"), lived across the street from me. When I was 9 or 10, he and I snuck one of my dad's Camel cigarettes and took a puff--it was my first and last thank God. I got to thinking there were 4 kids from other countries and were friends. One of them, the kid from the UK, played trombone, which was how I met him. He was actually a Scot named Becker, and when I proudly told him I was half Welsh, I found out that, in general, there is no love lost between the Welsh, English and Scots. After that he liked to call me "welshie," and not in a complementary way, which oddly gave me a very mild taste of what racism is like--and I didn't like it. Now that I think about it, he wasn't much of a friend.

Anyway, Becker was a trombonist, actually second trombone in the school band; I was third trombone and my friend who took me to concerts, Bob (he of the cute older sisters), was first. In all honesty, the rankings were accurate because I never practiced at home and it showed. But once upon a time... we had to learn the Welsh National Anthem! Feeling some pride, I practiced that tricky piece til I could play it without the sheet music, and quite well as it happened. Our cantankerous music teacher (putting it nicely, he had a temper) occasionally arranged the musicians by pop tests, and he tested us on this piece. I blasted away both Bob and Becker and became first trombone for quite a while (until the next pop test, that is). Bob was a good friend and his family were good people. I wouldn't mind looking him up one day.

So, to be honest, I am trying to blog more often and therefore topics may be weak. Going back to the question of worthless or not, are each of us worthy of a web-autobigraphy? Apparently, the blogosphere says YES!!!

Things that popped into my head today

2009-10-15T15:15:00.002-04:00

I wish I was working again--whether or not I liked what I was doing, it occupied enough of my time so that I really appreciated, and perhaps more efficiently used, "down time." These days I have so much free time, and yet such a small radius of travel. Most everything I dreamed of doing in my retirement is a non-starter because it involved getting out more. So I don't seem to do much of anything. Instead, I find myself musing too much. I really don't like spending too much time in my head, inevitably I drift into the regrets category and where's the fun in that?

And yet, a little mind-wandering brings back the oddest things. Today, I thought of the following random things:

- Dominoes Pizza and Sizzler, Gainesville Florida circa 1975. The pizza cheese in those days was crazy thick, uber-gooey, absolutely delicious and probably heart-stoppingly deadly. Why else would they stop using it? As for Sizzler, when I had the cash I could get sirloin tips and a baked potato with all the trimmings for $1.29. Both establishments were on or near University Ave across from U of F campus.
- Bench-type car seats in the 60's and 70's. You really couldn't beat having your girlfriend squinched-up against you while you were driving. On a date, you knew she liked you when she slid over from leaning out the passenger window.
- Dial telephones. Even before we learned to be ridiculously impatient with electronics, dialing took a maddeningly long time, and if you goofed a number you really got angry at starting over.
- Embassy kids. I was friends with a number of kids whose dads worked in Embassies in D.C., including Thailand, U.K., Australia and New Zealand. Oddly, the Thai kid's family had both French and Thai surnames, depending on the occasion, I guess. The last time I saw the Aussie kid, his eyes were weird and he excitedly told me he had just taken some drug--we were in 9th grade for crying out loud.
- A fellow Junior High-School trombonist whose family gave me rides to school concerts. One time his older sister got tired of watching me fumble with a neck tie, and just came over and tied it without me asking. At that time in my life, it was a very personal and special gesture.

It may be a sign of aging that I reflect more on things from my past; but I'd really rather be engaged in creating more memories, here and now.

sob... " and she's not even my dog, she's my wife's..."

2009-10-13T13:29:00.008-04:00

The internet never fails to surprise and entertain, for good or ill. I don't do as much on it as I used to, but I still check daily for e-mails from various friends, family and acquaintances. The point of most of these mailings is only vaguely to keep in touch--I think it's mostly about that age-old human foible of wanting to be the first one to tell/show your friends something spectacular, outrageous, or scandalous--it's that same trait that makes keeping a secret so very, very hard. Some of them are of the chain variety, beseeching you to send to seven other people for dubious reasons, including:

- proving your love for Jesus/saving your soul,
- saving the world,
- making you wealthy,
- giving someone a laugh,
- showing you have a truly macho set of cajones (be you male or female).

Each of us probably have friends who may appreciate forwarded e-mails, but even so I rarely forward.

Today, for example, I woke up to 4 e-mails that egged me on to forward, for some of the above reasons...but for other reasons, I deleted all and did not forward any.

Here you go:

1. Pix of cute toddlers doing outrageously funny things. I have people who would love some, but not all of these; I am too lazy to purge the ones that might offend.

2. Pix and narrative of an airplane badly damaged in a non-flying ground accident. This story amazed me and because of my background, really caught my interest. Unfortunately, the narrative was an unrepentant ethnic slam on the aircrew, who were 100% at fault and 100% all of the same background. I started to purge the narrative, then got lazy and deleted.

3. Pix of topless women commemorating "National Topless Women's Day." I didn't know we had such a holiday... and right on the heels of Columbus Day! But seriously folks, I don't solicit this stuff nor do I forward, but clearly I am a guy who knows guys who send it. I love a joke as much, maybe more than the next guy; I get lots of funny stuff and sometimes it runs on the ribald side. Though sorely tempted to forward a good joke, I don't promulgate this kind of stuff.

4. A quiz: NFL or NBA? "Which of these organizations is riddled with people guilty of the following outrageous, even illegal behavior? Answer: neither--it's your U.S. Congress!!! It's True!!!" Well, not exactly, as it turns out. There is a good lesson here. We all get e-mails that intend to startle us with some little-known but "indisputable" truth. It pays to check out rumor-ish types of e-mails at one of the debunking sites, like http://www.truthorfiction.com/ or http://www.snopes.com/ before forwarding. I once forwarded an alarming e-mail to many people about the toxic danger of re-using plastic bottles--I later found out it was an urban myth. I sheepishly sent out an apology e-mail to dozens of people. There is also a corollary lesson. I once e-mailed somebody back that "I checked your e-mail and it was a myth"--I was probably perceived as a snobbish boor--they never answered and I haven't heard from them since. Moral: I don't forward these, and neither do I correct them.

So, what, if anything, do I forward? Mostly simple things that strike me hard with some sort of truth. Here are links to two things I would forward:

1. Something that harkens back to a simpler time, when patriotism was about ideals, and not so much sullied by momentary political folly:

http://www.clown-ministry.com/red-skelton-videos/video/y_tBqrHMoTs

2. Something that amazes me, like tying the omniscient to the omnipresent:

http://www.andiesisle.com/GoD_and_DoG.html

That second one really got to me, hence the blog's title. Enjoy!

I'm Back, and Weighing-in on Roman Polanski

2009-10-05T11:36:00.002-04:00

Ok, it's embarrassing to write a blog after a 3 month hiatus, which had me thinking maybe I should call it off for good even if I had my reasons. But in deciding whether I ever wanted to blog again I found I had written at least three of them in my head but was too lazy to type them. So, I'll give it another go, and first up is Roman Polanski.

Ah, where to start. First off, let me say what he did was heinous, no excuses, and no mitigation; but I'll come back to that later.

I think what really strikes me about the debate about what should happen next though, such as it is, is that some people on both sides are missing the most salient point at risk here. That point is about the will to pursue the rule of law, for no less a reason than to preserve the civilization we hold so dear.

Justice is not about revenge, punishment, retribution, any of that--not directly. At its root it is about how our society, perhaps even civilization, can survive, progress, and even prosper. Yourdictionary.com says it's the quality of being righteous or fair, and wikipedia appears to borrow the next concept from the same site saying it is "the proper ordering of people and things." Wow! It is a key element of the "thin veneer of civilization." We should work just as hard at enforcing the rule of law as we do security, sovereignty and taxes. Consider then, and appreciate, the cliche "justice delayed is justice denied." We must maintain the will to pursue it regardless of circumstances.

So what are the arguments for mitigation in Polanski's case?
1. His body of work. I dismiss this offhand as ridiculous. Chris Rock put it best: "Even Johnnie Cochran don't have the nerve to go, 'Well, did you see O.J. play against New England?' "
2. It was a different time. Yes, it was. Some people my age seem to think you have to look at it with that perspective. Well, I lived it too, and even then this was wrong wrong wrong. The law was in place and for the record, any illegal acts committed by people under any circumstance are still illegal. As for the times, there is a scene in a '60s movie made by counterculture hero/musician Arlo Guthrie based on his song "Alice's Restaurant," in which Arlo discovers that a groupie who wants to sleep with him is underage. Anti-establishment, dope-smokin', authority flauntin' Arlo does not hesitate to turn her down and immediately makes arrangements to return the waif to her parents. So much for entertainment-business permissiveness in those days.
3. It was statutory rape. Yup, and yet regardless what anyone thinks the age of consent should be, "no" means "no." I have not read the child's testimony but I hear she described every act Polanski performed and prefaced every one with the word "no." It was statutory rape but it was also, first and foremost, rape.
4. The judge was crooked. Supposedly justifies him fleeing. Well, Polanski's money, power and influence bought him a pretty scant deal in the first place. There is every reason to believe it would have gotten sorted out eventually. He could have had all this behind him.
5. The parents dumped her on him with the expectation of her getting the "hopeful starlet treatment." I'm sorry, and bad parenting justifies his behavior, exactly how?
6. It's been 30 years, and he's suffered enough. Well, a lot of anger has been vented on this, but I have no comment on whether he's suffered. It is for a judge to decide, and he needs to stand before the court, justice demands it.

What of the people who want to hide this under the carpet for any of the above reasons? They are deluded, and truly don't realize what's at stake, represented in this one instance. In truth, not all victims get justice, not all guilty are punished, and not all people in prison are guilty. But this is our system, we must see it through, you must "get your day in court." Anything less invites anarchy, chaos, and injustice into our civilization, destabilizing it, even one case at a time.

Apophenia Part 2--but I suggest you skip this one

2009-06-30T13:49:00.007-04:00

Sorry for the delay in finishing this--I don't think it was worth it...
The reason I started this entry was simple--at the time I read an article complaining yet again about how our rights to privacy were being trampled in the name of national security. Certain decisions can reasonably be traced to likely outcomes, even of a peripheral nature. Specifically, I wanted to say IT IS STUPID TO COMPLAIN ABOUT STUFF WHEN ONE CAN SEE IT COMING, ESPECIALLY IF ONE TACITLY AGREED TO IT, AND EVEN DEMANDED IT.
Case in point: the problem that faced, and ultimately defined, the Presidency of George W. Bush; response to 9-11. True, over his tenure, I became less happy with his leadership, but he took a hit for one thing that he shouldn't have; and that is the assault on our constitutional right to privacy. That's why I opened with the comment about how Clinton ran his presidency by staying on the popular side of public opinion. (I used the "economic boom years" as an example; but there have been articles blaming the current mini-depression on Clinton's decisions to deregulate banking, and counter articles that it was the republican congress to blame for writing the legislation. It could be argued Bush could have done something in his 8 years to stop it, but who knows--certainly not me.)
What was popular opinion after 9-11? Revenge, and concurrently, prevention. It led to two invasions and ultimately, unilateral actions that alienated us from all but our staunchest allies. At the time, everybody here wanted blood, and at the same time, security (meaning no more 9-11s--battlefield homeland was unacceptable). Allowing some of our constitutional freedoms to be bent was, to some, an obvious outcome to the path we were taking, but many others expected complete security without loss of freedom. How naive! You can't have both ultimate security and ultimate freedom--they are not in the least connected.
I guess I'm saying don't shoot the president for something we all wanted. That said, I see it as a see-saw, and it's time to reaffirm our freedoms and accept that there is some risk attached.
Not profound, but hey like I said in the title, you could've skipped this one..

Apophenia, sounds like a Who concert only it isn't

2009-05-22T01:05:00.002-04:00

Presidents can sure let you down. I mean, they can be truly great in some ways, yet so terribly flawed in others. Nixon was like that, and to various extents, Kennedy, Carter, Bush, and probably all the rest. No surprise I wasn't a big Bill Clinton fan, along with most of the US military. I felt fully vindicated about those feelings after the whole Lewinsky business; it just seemed like the highest office deserved better than the way he handled that. That said, I had to admire Clinton's record as an administrator, because it seemed to be the best boom in the economy since post WW II; and a budget surplus? Unheard of.

What was his secret? Some say he fanatically used focus groups to stay on the sunnyside. But one aide, I don't recall his name, admired most that Clinton had an uncanny knack for "seeing the connectedness of things." That statement really resonated with me. I've always admired people who could hear about an event, or take some sort of action, and somehow, immediately and accurately know how it would affect, say, the price of carrots. It is particularly impressive if these connections have significant impact on the domestic or world stage.

In my old job, which was largely logistics, the ability to predict the various impacts of a "disturbance in the force" was highly prized and often, the only key to success. Certainly, the golden rule in the military is you must often make significant decisions on courses of action even without adequate information. You can see how recognizing true connectedness would be a godsend. I can't say I was a master at it, but sometimes I saw some angles nobody else did--instant gratification there. A truly great talent would be seeing the patterns in certain activities so as to allow one to predict the future. If I could master that, I'd live in Las Vegas, and quite nicely.

There's a whole realm of math that I don't understand that chases specific outcomes of events (deterministic prediction) and random outcomes (stochastic prediction, an array of outcomes, some more likely than others). But then, there's also apophenia: the spontaneous perception of connections and meaningfulness of unrelated phenomena, or the propensity to find meaning, patterns, and significance where there is none. Maybe that's the line between genius and pure paranoia. But who then is to say that a purported pattern is real or not? In the end, it doesn't matter; if knowing the answer does not result in useful information to optimize things, it just doesn't matter.

Next blog, I'll tell you where I'm going with this...

My best defense for saving "Marriage"

2009-05-18T15:08:00.003-04:00

My best defense for saving the "traditional" meaning of the word "marriage" is the story of the word "gay." I'm still pissed about that one. So I guess what I'm saying is I'm really arguing over a stupid word.
I truly believe people of the same sex who proclaim their love for each other should be able to enter a union with the exact same benefits as marriage. I say call it a "civil union," or somesuch, make it legally the same as "marriage" and let them have at it. I guess you could further define the situation as "traditional marriage" and "gay marriage," but the vitriol will still exist in our society, and it will inevitably get shortened to marriage anyway. How about we create a new word, like we did with "Ms." How about "murriage?" It could be for all unions, be they straight or homosexual. You could still use the words "husbands" or "wives" and you haven't re-written anything.
But quit changing the meanings of extant words already! Maybe one can argue that the word "marriage" was never specifically defined as between opposite sexes, but it was assuredly implied as such for millenia. You know, some words have a certain untranslatable meaning for their particular society. The word gay was not the exact same as any other single word, so when our culture changed its meaning, we lost something. Gay used to mean sort of lighthearted-happy-carefree but also carried a hint of the fleetingness or fragility of that state. Well, that one is gone for sure. Let us not sacrifice the meaning of another word to the alter of pop culture. Our language is pretty rich, surely we can expand it a tad further?
Love free speech!

A Comment on Mom's Day

2009-05-10T11:06:00.004-04:00

It occurred to me there are two kinds of mothers; those who tried to have kids, and those who (for whatever reason) didn't. The interesting thing about this is that the beginning has no reflection whatsoever on the result. I mean, there are "good" and "bad" mothers regardless of the planning factor. Of course, good and bad are kind of relative terms, but who would argue that there aren't a few real monsters out there. I would argue the vast majority aren't monsters, just regular people with a unique relationship to you. People can love you, hate you, surprise you, empower you, forgive you, hurt you, the whole gamut--most come and go. But mom can do all these things and when the sun goes down, she's still mom.
I miss my mom. For all her love, her faults, her strengths, there were always good times mixed with some lows. The good times give me a warm feeling, and the lows don't sting so much anymore. What gives me pause is that with passing time, I understand more about the way things were for her, about the decisions she had to make, because in addition to being a mom, she was a regular person too. I believe the fact that she was my mother does not give me special power to judge her as a person. What I know for certain is she sacrificed a lot for me and my sister, more than any one else I could name.
So, I'm glad there is a Mother's Day. Though I can't do anything special for her now that she's gone, I can reflect on her love, sacrifice, and inevitable human frailty. She was a person, and she was my mom.

A Poem

2009-04-19T14:27:00.002-04:00

The Lonely Light

The lonely light does not illuminate;
it calmly marks a place
where we will only just observe
a nail in time and space.

The wheels that move us past it
have no thought for human grace;
so in that moment we must imagine,
or it will not have a face.

We may spend days remembering
what we might have seen at night.
Was there love and purpose there,
or just a lonely light?

The Missing Man Blog

2009-04-12T20:11:00.004-04:00

I have been absent from blogging for almost 2 months and I feel bad about it, but there is a reason. I used to sit in the living room with my laptop and create these things over a long period of time, then the laptop busted and now I rarely go online, except to pay bills. I resolve to change that but it will be easier when the In-laws go back to Tennessee. I will sure miss them, they provided some much needed relief from my usual humdrum day; at the same time they added some expectations for what used to be my free time, and that also has kept me away from the keyboard. They leave in 3 days, and I'm sure I'll have the departure blues. Good thing that always passes and i can get back to routine.
Cheers!

If I know what it is, I won't eat it.

2009-02-25T20:35:00.002-05:00

What are today's school's coming to? Last week, 9-year old Jake's 4th grade class took home permission slips for kids to be able to eat chocolate covered grasshoppers. Apparently, the teacher brought some in and challenged the kids to try it. Of the 20 kids, 19 brought back the slips signed, 10 actually ate them and only one of those suffered the dread projectile vomit. Jake manned-up and ate one, and proved to himself it was no big deal. Sheesh. And yet, Jake turns his nose up at peanut butter.
My dad used to love to throw one thing in my face all the time; it was the simple fact that as a young boy, I loved anchovies on pizza until I found out anchovy was a fish. He said when I was very young I ate all kinds of fish without complaint, but at some point decided I hated fish--this is something that pretty much continues to this day. I still remember the salty, strong and exotic taste anchovy brought to pizza, but I also remember the first time that, knowing it was fish, I really LOOKED at it and wondered exactly what part of the fish it was, etc... That's the problem, aside from stuff that really truly tastes bad, we also get too good at visualizing what we're really eating.
Every kid I've known has had a food phobia of some kind. The list includes green veggies of all kinds, onions, mushrooms; and even hamburgers, which I consider strong proof that aliens are among us. Some kids have grown out of it, some not, or not yet. I used to think "they don't know what they're missing" but I'm past that; each has favorite foods that they dream of in the perfect meal, so the beauty of food is not completely lost on them.
The plain truth is, there are some foods that you just don't want to know what's in it.
Other foods I loved as a child, but then "inexplicably" changed my mind:
Goat's Milk Fudge. I looked forward to road trips to the Smoky Mountains where you could get this until I found out it really does use goat's milk. I thought it was just a name. Like as in hamburger doesn't really use ham, etc. The thought of somebody pulling on those tiny little nipples, getting that "milk?," echhh!
Maypo. This was an early maple-flavored oatmeal and was really OK tasting. The problem was the advertising blitz featured animated spokesman "Marky Maypo." I got mercilously teased by everybody who knew my name. Somehow that changed the taste--it had to go.
Apple Pie. Loved it until I had some in which the cook didn't completely remove the core fiber-skin along with the seeds--the coarse sheath that surrounds the seeds is extremely unpleasant and spoils the texture. I just wrote-off the pie after that.
Bologna. For some reason, I can occasionally "forget" what's in hotdogs and sausage and still enjoy them, but the original discovery of what's in bologna has stayed with me. In a big way.
Tripe. Just kidding, I never, ever liked this--for God's sake, do you know what it is? Dear Lord...
I'm not a complete food snob, I still love a sandwich that never failed to gross out my lunch-mates at elementary school:
Liverwurst, swiss cheese, onion and mustard on dark pumpernickle. It was my Mom's recipe, made as always with love.
These days, I can remember anchovy with nostalgia and less distaste; maybe I'll put it on my bucket list to revisit one last time.

I Am Affronted

2009-02-11T15:53:00.002-05:00

Well.
I thought we, as a society, had moved beyond simplistic blanket statements about race, gender, blondes, and so on. But no, I got a slap in the face while reading the latest issue of AARP magazine (don't laugh, there are some great articles, and most of the pictures are of people so old it makes me feel pretty darn good...). There I was, in my most sacred sanctum, the bathroom/library; when I came across a review of Rachel Getting Married. Not a movie I'd see, except under extreme duress from a female companion; but I do tend to read everything in magazines when I'm "in the zone on the throne," so to speak. This article described a scene-stealing moment by actor Bill Irwin, in which he demonstrates "men's nearly universal preoccupation with the one and only correct way to load a dishwasher."
Again, well.
I speak here for myself, but if I must, I will also stand up for my brethren as I am sure we are all equal in our… affrontedness. There is, in fact, Only One Correct Way To Load A Dishwasher. How, exactly, do I know this? Because I Read The Directions that came with the dishwasher. That's right. I am aware that we, as a gender, are also accused of Never Reading The Directions. I will have you know that on most occasions... OK, sometimes... well, maybe if they are short enough and it's mostly pictures, I do indeed Read The Directions.
But hey, I'm a flexible guy, so let's be clear here, my goal is not rigid conformity--I just want a clean spoon. If you load the spoons down in the silverware tray, they might, well, spoon, and the water and detergent can't clean. There are other corrollaries that apply to plates and tall glasses, but if you, dear reader, insist on poo-pooing The Directions, I will defer and move on.
How about related "baseless" stereotypes?
About Not Reading The Directions. There is a reason we men don't do it: it hurts. That's right, physical pain, of the excruciating variety. But we are stoic and don't want to let on, so we wing it and sometimes get it right without enduring the torture. And by the way, sending warranty cards in is for wimps.
About Not Asking For Directions When Driving. This one is simple, we men know what you women don't--after asking directions, the fellow we asked is snickering. Yes, snickering, which somehow translates into the aforementioned physical pain.
About Not Asking Directions When Shopping. It's a lot like driving, but having worked in a hardware store, I can tell you there is both snickering and mealy-mouthing.
About Our Tendancy To Collect Used Fabric Softener Sheets. You'd best let this one lie, at least I'm doing the laundry.
About Not Going To Chick Flicks. You've got it wrong--men don't mind a chick flick as long as it's a comedy. Take us to a downer and we might cry--'nuff said. And might I add, we need to destroy all copies of "The Notebook" immediately.
I may have to rethink reading the AARP mag if they persist in promoting these hurtful statements! Oh, who am I kidding--the wife won't let me take anything else in the bathroom for fear it will get "spotty," whatever that means. Maybe the next issue will deconstruct the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue to insist on some older models... well, its a thought.
As far as "Rachel Getting Married," now I'll have to see it, just to make sure that guy got the dishwasher right.

A New Standard of Excess

2009-02-08T01:50:00.004-05:00

I note there are many comments lately about the woman who had octuplets. I have to say, though I had a sense of awe and wonder over past years with the news of quints, sex- and even sep- tuplets, my immediate thought this time was a kind of disgust. Yes, mom is ecstatic (even though she already has 6 children) and her doctors are quite proud of themselves, but hey! We don't need to explore new territory on human proliferation. We have proven quite adept and successful at it and are in no danger of extinction (at least by procreation).

When I think about the struggle in "third world countries" to control population and thereby improve quality of life, I have to wonder about sloppy or at least careless human husbandry in "first world countries" where families apparently have no limits whatsoever (regardless of means to take care of kids). Ms Suleman, if you really wanted more kids, did you consider adoption? Doctors, if you gave her fertility treatments, can you really say you have no way of controlling or limiting the number of eggs fertilized, or were you literally going for a record? Despicable either way.

As population grows, we face food and water shortages, not to mention the carbon impact on global warming from the rampant growth of energy and resource consumers. More people, more pollution, and in case no one recently mentioned it, we tend to populate arable land, thus removing it from crop productivity. I just can't see any up-side to endless growth, unless it betters our chances of another Einstein--but would that really be worth it?

I'm happy the lady and her children are all well, please believe me. She hasn't broken any laws, legal, moral or ethical, at least as we westerners currently hold. But maybe we'd all do well to stop referring to this as the "Miracle" of childbirth and start calling it the "Inevitability" of childbirth. Maybe then we could look at this reasonably and avoid the population equivalent of global warming.

Nothing New Under the Sun

2009-02-07T23:56:00.003-05:00

This blog is open, meaning anybody can find and access it using the right search words if they don't actually have the address. Although only the three of you have the address (and are automatically e-mailed when I post), I eventually got used to the idea of baring my soul a bit and fantasized about some random person seeing it and adding a comment. Actually, looking forward to it, even if it was unflattering or outright profanity. The idea of someone finding this blog out of the millions out there struck me as pretty cool.
The other day I thought I'd see how accessible it really is: I googled the phrase "The Truth Eludes Us" and found millions of hits. After looking through the first ten pages or so, and shooting ahead a few hundred at random, I could not find my blog. More telling, none of the hits I looked at were even part of a blog, let alone the title of one. So I googled the title and the word "blog;" again, I could not find my blog. OK, time to quit fooling around; I googled my blog title and the exact title of one of my posts, which I thought I made-up and was very distinct and original, "The Pavements of Summer," and told google to get the exact phrases. Now it gets interesting--my blog was on page 2, which means an entire page of entries contained these words/phrases and aced-out my blog. Most interesting was an article entitled "The Truth Eludes Us: The Pavements of Summer." It was about nuclear weapons, of all things. I was stunned on several levels:
First, that someone else strung those exact phrases together. Second, I thought I had come up with an original phrase "pavements of summer," I even played with different combinations of words before i decided these best described sidewalks. Last, how in the world do these phrases connect to nukes?
When I used these phrases, was I experiencing some sort of subconscious recall of random terms I came across in the distant past? Or is it possible that in the info age, there is truly nothing new under the sun, as postulated in no less a tome than the biblical book of Ecclesiastes?
There's more evidence of the latter...
--I have a daily e-mail reminder to use the commercial search engine from PCH.com in order to enter in their various sweepstakes. It is puerile, I admit, but it's over quickly and maybe the prize patrol will come to my door and...but I digress. To get it over with, I often type nonsense words or random keyings into the keyboard and always get dozens or more results. The point is, I completely make up words, and they are in the web--try it!
--I use the name "Ambivius" for my blog name; when I created it, it was supposed to be a cutesy fusion of "ambivalent" and "oblivious." Guess what? Ambivius was an actual ancient Roman actor, and he gets 10,000 hits on google. Even if you spell it ambivious, which would have been a more correct fusion of the two words, you still get 139 hits.
--I've googled my name, who hasn't; and though I didn't find me, I really wasn't surprised there are many, many people with my first and last name, though many fewer with my middle initial --and I think I'm alone if I use my full middle name; but when googling my father Roy Austin Stephens, there are at least 6 out there and none of them are him. I mean come on-- ROY+AUSTIN+STEPHENS?
--Suffice to say, all of you, my children, have dopplegangers in the web--and I have found you all at least once among the many--a pleasant surprise!
Have you ever turned on the radio and the exact tune you were thinking about is playing? Or think about someone right before they call you on the phone, or better, pick up the phone before it rings and the person you were going to call is on the other end?
There is a whole school of philosophy whose premise is there are no coincidences, but if so, then what the heck does it all mean when something weird goes down?
I realize all of the above is explainable through finite sets of variables (i.e., name combinations) and vagaries of the mind--in fact, recently scientists have offered a complete, thorough and authoritative explanation for the experience of deja vu. And yet, I can't really accept that somewhere out there, in theory, millions of monkeys are at typewriters randomly key-punching in the exact replica of "War and Peace."

Happy Holidays.....

2008-12-29T17:15:00.004-05:00

Several weeks back Jake lost 2 days of school due to head lice. I learned a lot about them over those days, used an expensive head kit (which didn't work) and a cheap home remedy recommended by the Pharmacist (which did--put mayonaise in the hair, cover with a shower cap for one hour!). I swore if it happened again I'd get his hair cut to a buzz, and now I'm having to think about it!!!
Whenever he touches his scalp I ask if he's itching, he dodged the question more than usual today so I checked it and @$#&&$ if he doesn't have them again. #&*$*%#!!!
I checked his hair several times after the first infestation and it was defintely clear, so this is a recent infestation. We had him for Christmas until 2 days ago, and I guess he got it from the kid he was with for two consecutive sleepovers the last 2 nights at his dad's house. Frustrating? is not a sufficient word for my anger and desperation. Mostly because of all the stuff that needs to be done here to quell this thing, and then after that I can't speak for what happens at his dad's house. I guess I'll keep him with me until his dad does the laundry and bedclothes, and I've already told Jake the sleepovers are done with.
When somebody in the house has head lice, everybody's head itches--psychomatically. I guess my hair is short enough that they have not attacked me, and easily solved if they did because these particular lice only live in head hair, a very specific target, and i can shave that easily. No, it's Sheila I worry about, that would be a task and a half to clear, even though she cut her hair shorter than I've ever seen. So far, no problem, keeping my fingers crossed.

Yes Brandon, there is a Santa Claus

2008-12-24T01:24:00.003-05:00

Just to be clear, what follows is a true 'Christmas" story:
Wow, am I out of practice talking to 9 year olds! If I was ever any good at it, I think it left me at about the same time as my 32 inch waist.
Everybody knows my current situation, housebound caregiver etc; Jacob lives with his dad most of the time and we get him Friday nights, which is the exact opposite of the old arrangement prior to Sheila's accident. Until now, that is, because school is out and neither us nor Jacob's dad can afford full day child care, so he stays with us full-time until 5 January. The other day he asked for a sleepover, which is inappropriate due to Sheila's situation, not just from a privacy point of view but because I can't give proper attention. But to be honest, I just don't want the responsibility of a overnighter with a strange kid. In the end I agreed to a "play date"lasting from 7:30 AM to 2:30 PM. That's how I met Brandon, Jake's best, 2nd, or 3rd best friend depending on the weather, or some other caprice. Brandon is big for his age, in a rotund way, but quiet, generally pleasant and impeccably polite. As happens, there was a fight between them in Jake's room over a nerf dart, and I tried to intervene but Jacob was already extremely upset and stormed off, ostensibly (I later found out) to walk to his dad's house 7 miles north in Wachesaw.
I asked Brandon why he was not cooperating with Jake over the dart, i.e., why would he let things escalate as they did. Well, there is no logic to escalation even when adults practice it, so that was a dead end. Since Jake was outside, and clearly not wanting to hang out with Brandon, I thought it best to have Brandon watch TV with me in the living room, lest he start having designs on the copper wiring in the wall sockets or something.
All was quiet for a while, but after a few minutes of Dexter's Lab, Brandon shifted uncomfortably on the floor and without looking at me, said "there's something I've been wanting to ask." I put down my magazine, and not knowing what to expect, I just said "ask away."
"I've been wondering if Santa claus is real," he said. "I asked my mom and she just said 'if you don't believe, you don't receive.'"
OK, that was a nifty retort from "mom" (I wish I'd thought of that years ago), but I was in wonder of what to say next to a stranger's kid on the cusp of the "real Santa dilemma."
In a split second, I thought of the old Virginia story, of telling an outright lie, and also if it would be wrong to be truthful; I decided it was best to say "well, I believe in Santa." I told myself it was true in that every time we give, we live the spirit of Santa. Fortunately it was enough, we then went on to why you can't be awake when santa comes, how he fell aleep in front of the tree one Christmas eve and woke up in bed, and so on.
Later it occured to me how isolated our kids have become when they resort to asking a relative stranger about something that troubles them so. Do they trust adults when they get dodgy stories about the Tooth Fairy, Santa and the Easter Bunny, do they come to know adults will lie to them about certain things?
I don't know if it's wrong to promulgate these things, I always thought not. I was aghast when I learned the Linnes (across the lake in Gwinn, MI) always told their kids the stuff under the tree was from mom and dad. I recall Bev Linne was downright adamant the kids would by God know she bought that stuff, and not some fat trespasser dressed in red. I only know it didn't hurt me when I found out, and I didn't hate my parents for stringing me along.
In any case, that question means we are probably having the last wonder and awe-filled Christmas in this house, and it is sad in its departure.
So, until the next round of rug rats in the unending cycle, we will put out the last plate of cookies tomorrow night, and hope it all goes well.
Merry Christmas!

The Pavements of Summer

2008-12-13T13:28:00.002-05:00

Much has been said about using up our non-renewable energy resources, and there is an angry contingent who are quite militant about using solar, wind, geothermal, bio-fuel and ocean since they are "renewable." But read up, and you will find out those technologies do not reasonably hold promise of meeting all our needs, probably ever. Global warming aside for the moment, seems like some combination of a plentiful resource(s), renewable resources, improved power transmission through superconductivity, and reducing our needs (improved living designs? Mass die-off? Civilization collapse? It could happen) is our true future.
A bleak concept, but some studies have been conducted with rats that show that popultion tends to correct itself sooner or later. We know, for example, what happens to deer populations, now that we've damaged their natural predator numbers, if we don't intervene before winter. Disease, famine, higher mortality, lower fertility, all these things can happen quickly and devastatingly. That stress number may be quite high for humans, but certainly, there is a number.
The US is blessed with lots of coal, about 250 years at current use levels; of course that time frame will shrink as we figure out how to sub coal for other sources over time, as well as continuing to grow our populace for demand. A common advertisement likes to tell us there is no hope for "clean coal" energy production.
We already know oil is a dead end, and maybe scarily so.
Nuclear is always an option, with the caveats of indestructable toxins, terror attack risk, and possible WMD proliferation (no matter what you've heard, ANY nuclear reactor can be configured to produce Plutonium).
The various renewable sources will become cheaper, but creating them in the first place carries its own pollution price tag. Exotic elements, production technologies, transportation, all will add to the earth-burden. Perhaps most disappointing, bio-fuel diverts a huge amount of bio-mass from food production.
Architecture solutions include better use of insulation, natural lighting, botanical enhancements (like shade), and so on. The payback for socalled passive improvements is sometimes modest in comparison to the cost of including them.
But something we used to do automatically, but not so much any more, is include sidewalks in our new subdivisions. These, along with bikepaths, will become the pavement of choice when weather is nice and transportion costs become more like last summer than currently. A recent History Channel special on the nature and finite supply of crude oil made a comment that really resonates in our current situation; "to see what our future will look like, we need only look at our past." A future without oil would look like the horse and buggy days, and how many people will that support?
I see a future where the average person does many more daily transportation and maintenance tasks using people-power, and I think we need to start putting in sidewalks and bikepaths NOW!

Weather

2008-12-12T11:34:00.002-05:00

Finally a sunny day. Zach s here and we are trying to go through the oldest stuff in the Stephens household, and it's slow going. But eventually we will have our garage back. The stuff of a lifetime--I can only say to the young, purge as you go--paperwork and nic-nacs add up very quick.

Holy smoke, I just noted a big disconnect...

2008-11-21T14:16:00.003-05:00

My last post included what I thought was an accurate story about my parents' early years, but something happened that made me realize I have a gap about which I know nothing. Turns out in this case at least, my knowledge of my family history may be a series of anecdotes that in a final analysis, don't agree with each other. Here's my story:
Yesterday I took Sheila to her neurologist, and encountered one of those occasional situations you find at a doctor's office, the chatty older person. I happened to make eye contact with a woman a little older than me, maybe 65ish, when she stretched in her chair. I kind of knew what was coming, she asked me if I was a local. I said no, I grew up in the Washington DC area, and she said she had too. I thought it would be nice to compare stories so I asked what part of Washington and sure enough, it was the last thing I said for the next 10-15 minutes while she told me about her childhood in Washington. Seriously, I heard how her parents met, how strict they were, how their technique worked for her kids, and then she started on how nice her dad was and literally was giving me a chronology of his activities starting immediately post WW I. When the doctor finally called for Sheila, the lady was getting to WII. I started to get up and the lady would not stop talking--awkward! I had to just leave, with a hasty "nice talking with you," and I felt bad, but you don't keep the doc waiting. Something she said about her family moving to DC made me realize something I knew but did not connect with what I had recently put in my blog.
I know I was born in Queens, New York, and that my family moved from there to the Georgetown address I mentioned in the last blog when I was 6 months old, according to my mother. So it follows my folks met in New York City, and my dad's business must have been there and not DC, and my mom could not have been working in the Pentagon yet. Even though I always knew I was born in queens, I always thought everything I knew about mom and dad started in DC! Big disconnect. So, I'm thinking hard, and I believe my mom told me dad's flooring business was in DC--he must have started it after he left New York, and I don't know and probably never will what the heck either of them did in New York. Worse, mom was a WAVE, a Naval officer in WWII, and I always thought she worked in the DC area and there was contiguous service in the Pentagon until she left when I was an older kid. Obviously, wrong.
The only one left of my parents relatives is my dad's sister, who must be 85 now, and we haven't been in touch in a long time. I have to give some thought to calling the cousins and connecting with them, maybe there is still some knowledge to be gained...

Brush with History

2008-11-17T11:43:00.002-05:00

My daughter asked why she didn't know I had met Hubert H. Humphrey (the original Triple H!) so I included that in the comments on the previous blog. I think though, that all my kids know this story:
In 1952, my dad was doing well as a flooring contractor in Washington DC, where he met my mom, who worked in the Pentagon. The first place they lived together was a row house in Georgetown, apparently in a nice area where congressmen and women had second homes while congress was in session. Though mom didn't drive, once she had a taxi drive my sister and me by it so we could see where it was. She told me she used to see a young Senator John Kennedy and his wife Jackie stroll Caroline around in a baby carriage occasionally, since they lived just around the corner from us. Neat, I know, but I always found it more interesting that our next door neighbor was Senator Everett Dirkson. He was a very important and visible member of Congress when I was young, but I remembered him most because he had ridiculous messy (along the lines of Albert Einstein), shocking white hair. He was in the news all the time.
My mom, as did many women of her generation, practically worshipped Jackie O, so I heard about her a lot. When JFK was assassinated, all 4 TV channels in Washington (yes, there were only 4 in '63, and they signed off the air around midnight) did 3 solid days of non-stop coverage, and my mom cried continuously. It is one of my strongest memories.

To know them is to love them

2008-11-14T19:49:00.003-05:00

A post-election article in today's local paper prompts this entry. It was titled "No Truce Between Miller and Kelso." I don't know why it's news that after the election the candidates don't always bury the hatchet.
Due to being in the military and, quite frankly, never feeling like I really belonged anywhere I've lived, I don't usually get into local politics. This last election was an exception, partly because it was"so important." I made an effort to learn about our South Carolina US Congressional seat, and ended up voting for the one who distorted his/her opponent's positions the least (unfortunately, we lost).
I also went so far as to look into the local state congressional seat, the contest between Jill Kelso (R) and Vida Miller (D), the incumbent. I really could not find out much about them, there was no detaled background online. So I decided to vote for Kelso for no other reason than that I was registered Republican and in general, agree with what Republicans are SUPPOSED to be doing--weak, I know, but a fallback position nontheless.
Anyway, something unexpected happened. While I was in the 2 hour line to vote, I met Vida Miller. She just happened to vote in the exact same precinct as me. That precinct includes all of Charleston, so you can see what the chances were she voted at the local Library. She came down the line, shook our hands and said thanks for voting. I was careful to see if she did anything to win our vote, which is of course illegal, but she did not. Now while I was waiting in line, I got to thinking, she's not so bad. She is one of 3 politicians I've actually met, the other 2 being Hubert Humphrey and George H.W. Bush. I have to say, just to meet these people in person is incredibly persuasive--I guess you get a little star struck. I bet if you are around these people all the time you become inured to that effect. It's a shame, really, that we all can't meet all the candidates for races we vote in. Maybe we could compare that charisma presence thing and then dismiss it.
BTW, I'm not telling who I voted for in the local race. Suffice to say, Miller won though it was close.

What am I doing here?

2008-11-13T15:16:00.003-05:00

There are only a few of you seeing this because I'm embarrased at the silliness that sometimes comes through--I am, after all, late middle-aged, or is it early-old?
I am asked if I'm borrowing stuff, telling personal stories, etc. Maybe I should label the stuff? So far I've complained, joked, complained some more, wrote stream of consciousness, tried poetry, short story, and odes to things like Halloween and Veteran's Day. Also tried embedding a picture, which if you click on it becomes huge on my computer and pretty cool. That picture BTW was taken from the Hypermarket parking lot in Muscat, Capital of Oman. There are very rarely clouds in Oman so this was special, I took a bunch, this one was typical.
Anyway, all this is stuff in my head, I am just experimenting, and I am pleased to get your feedback if you like. I set this thing to send an e-mail when I post something, if you want I can stop that. I don't know what I will do next, still thinking on it.

Take care!

In Flanders Fields

2008-11-11T19:59:00.003-05:00

Veteran's Day is nearly over, and many events marked its passing this year. It is personally gratifying that people are thankful for those who served and are serving, even in unpopular wars. "Unpopular wars" is a funny term--did you know there were antiwar activists even after Pearl Harbor? Many didn't think it should have caused us to go to war with Germany and Italy. There will always be those who think there is a peaceful solution to any conflict, but I say history is proof positive we can't always turn the other cheek. The American Fighting Man and Woman elects to serve the country, it is up to our civilian leadership to correctly use the precious resource of our youth.
Movies and TV news have proven powerful at bringing the horror of war into the living room, but then, you can turn it off and reflect on what it all means in peace and quiet. The soldier in the foxhole can only pray for it to be over, it doesn't turn off when he's had enough. You can't rewind and do it over when you charge up a hill in flying-metal hell.
In my 30 years of service, I was never really in immediate danger of death, never in a running battle or fire-fight. I don't really know how I'd do in those circumstances. Yet, something in me boils over and connects me with all who served when I read a simple poem, written after an unimaginable carnage by someone who somehow survived.
I invite you to read it at this URL:

http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/flanders.htm

This never fails to wrench my heart and bring on the tears, even though I've only seen the fields in pictures. I wonder if it can have the same effect on someone who has never served?
Sacrifice.
Remembrance.
Gratitude.
If we lost these things, who would we be?

IT CAME IN THE MAIL

2008-11-10T12:00:00.003-05:00

Catalogs, bills, magazines and a small package addressed to Mr. Bill Pearson; crammed unconveniently into the Monday morning mail.
With coffee in hand, I dismissed the detritus of suburban home ownership and concentrated on the plain brown box. Inside, a tube of some substance, and a card that read:
"Congratulations, Mr Pearson, you have been chosen to receive a test sample of this miraculous new product that guarantees a life-changing experience. All you have to do is rub a small amount on the back of your neck each morning, and you will be perceived very differently by the people around you. After you try the product, send us back this feedback card with your comments." It had a return address, it read simply: "Depeshit, Oregon."
On the tube, the only word: Depeshit.
"What are you reading?" barked the wife, adorned in housecoat, cucumber facemask, and evil.
"Uh...well... this stuff is Depeshit," I answered.
"Oh. OK. Like I wouldn't understand, huh? You can't bother to tell me because it's 'deep'. You're an ass Bill."
True, I did not bother. Instead I excused myself to the bathroom and rubbed some of the tube contents on my neck.
From downstairs: "What are you doing now, asshole?"
"I'm up to my neck in Depeshit," I called down.
No answer.
Out the door to work, I am greeted by Fred "Froggy" Warner, the bohemian lawncare guy.
"Huh, huh, huh...hey Mr P."
"Froggy, the bushes are starting to take over."
"Just growing plants to block off the neighbors like you asked, Mr P," croaked Froggy.
My neighbors are the Hitlers, or the Mortons...I can't keep it straight. "Oh, right. Good work Froggy. Good fences, good neighbors, etcetera."
"Huh huh huh, that's a good one Mr P, real deep."
I swear as I walked off, I heard him say "that's some deep shit."
At the office cooler, I found myself all the rage. "Yadda yadda, something about the weather..." The minions were enraptured, hanging on every word. Murmers of "cool, deep, that's some deep shit" could be heard from all corners. The office is getting better all the time.
Stopping off at the local bar, my best hope of a late arrival at home unless there's a mass extinction event, I am the most popular patron. "You know, there's lots of fecal bacteria in those bar snack bowls," I offered.
More murmers of "Damn!" "He's smart!" "That's deep!" "That's some deep shit!"
I am on a roll, and enjoying free drinks as the barkeep grudgingly changes out the munchy plates.
At the house, I dodge Lucifer's maidservant and head straight to the bathroom for more Depeshit.
I can get used to this, I think, as I dab on more 'shit to the neck.
Then I hear the doorbell.
Outside, a disparate contingent awaits.
"Who are you guys?" I ask.
"Well Mr Pearson, I'm with the IRS--I'm here about your last 3 tax returns, which to say the least, are way off...in the government's favor. These two gents behind me are with the DEA, something about the 12 marijuana plants on the border of your property. Oh, and those last guys are with the Police K-9 patrol. Apparently, their corpse dog has alerted on something in your back yard. You sir, are in some (wait for it...) deep shit."
Yup. Where the hell is that feedback card...

I gotta sell this to somebody

2008-11-06T00:27:00.002-05:00

I have these great ideas for movies and TV, but no outlet.
My favorite is Death on the Bruise Cruise, a concept movie based on the Love Boat and Clue, but with a twist. On this cruise, infomercial Gurus and their successful (but not typical) clients are enjoying a mid-pacific journey to cross the International Dateline on New Years Eve, thereby getting two midnights. Between the two, someone gets murdered! But what great subplots that could lead to murder! Tony Little (Gazelle) and Tony Horton (Power 90X) supercompetitive at shuffleboard and at each other's throats; Susan Powter and Denise Austin, haggling over whose videos are teenage boy's favorite late night entertainment; nutcase Mathew Lesko playing nasty pranks on stuffed shirt real estate baron Carlton Sheets; Billy Blanks alternately amused and horrified at Richard Simmons...you get the idea.
So who gets murdered? Here are five popular jerks:
-Skin crawlin' Vince from Shamwow--ick!
-King Paranoid and convcted felon Kevin Trudeau of "things they don't want you to know" fame.
-Never-met-a-product-he-didn't-like Billy Mays--is he yelling or what?
-That creep that interviews "Doctors" about male enhancement and colon cleansing products.
-My personal favorite, "Hanoi Jane" Fonda--a little long in the tooth for those exercise videos anyway.
So who solves the murder? Absolutely: Klee Irwin of Dual-Action Cleanse fame--if he won't play himself, line up Steve Buschemi--it's a lock!!!
I don't know what's sadder--this idea or the fact that I/we know who all these people are...

Some new Reality TV ideas based on misleading titles:
The Bowler: Yeah, he rolls a line at the lanes on occasion, but his main mission is going town to town and making public speeches to bring back men's hats--you know, the bowler, fedora, pork pie, stovepipe, etc. His nemeses are baseball caps and Stetsons. Makes at least as much sense as plumbers hunting for ghosts.
The Key Grip: Not a logistician on a film set--this guy goes from bar to bar challenging only extremely drunk guys to arm wrestle. Vomiting isn't edited out. Awesome!
The Make-up artist: Sure, does carry around some cosmetics, but real mission is to visit quarreling couples and get them to "make up." In the Playboy Channel version, he stays around for the "make-up" sex.
Dude, where the @!#$ is my car?: A crack team of repo men follow Ashton Kutcher everywhere and keep stealing his ride. Extra points if Demi is inconvenienced. Punked!

Well, if you know anybody in "the business," feel free to pitch my ideas; but if anything develops don't forget, I get a percentage!

This time

2008-11-05T23:29:00.006-05:00

Seek me darkness,

draw breathe from the West and

collide with blooming shadows.
Chase hot flickerings,
binge on dying embers.
Find me in moonlight
if you can;
you can always pretend.
I will not call to you
but if I'm there
I am balanced,
I promise.
Lightly touch and you will see
four corners that are me.
Walk backwards quickly, with or without your prize.
This time.

Halloween, still great!

2008-10-31T11:57:00.004-04:00

Halloween is my favorite holiday, bar none. Maybe that's blasphemy, but consider: Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving were OK as a kid, but all involved exhaustive prep as an adult, which on occasion detracted disastrously from any celebration. Not so Halloween. Put on a mask, hand out candy. Halloween has changed since my childhood, but it still has a magical quality; and for me at least, harkens back to a time when as an 8-12 year old I could trick or treat several neighborhoods past darkness without danger. At least it felt safer than it does today.
Halloween gets a bad rep from revisionists who equate it with Satan-love.
There are 10 Federal holidays, and about half are under a cloud of constant attack or efforts to change or discredit them (see rundown below). Much-maligned Halloween is not a Federal holiday, but enjoys the status of international holiday based in the Celtic harvest celebration, or the age-old human weakness of trying to thank somebody for a good crop. Over the years its pagan origins seem to have absorbed a whole host of evils not part of the original intent. Today, there is nothing to link it to human sacrifice or devil worship except in the minds of those who link earth and harvest-based religions to Satan, and that's a real shame.
Rather than celebrate goodness and hope (Christmas, Easter, et al), Halloween is the only holiday that invites us mortals to laugh at the dark. Here is your chance to dismiss our fear of what's under our beds or in the closet. We all know there's real scary stuff out there. If you want to rail at something, consider the nightly news, which insists on bringing a home invasion story from East Orange, New Jersey, into our homes in Portland, Oregon. Media turns fear and horror anywhere, into fear and horror everywhere.
As a kid, my absolute worst nightmares were not about monsters. Long before I ever saw a horror movie, I was scared to death of bears, even in my bed in suburban Chevy Chase, Maryland. Even after I saw horror movies, the only monster I can remember dreaming about was a gorilla. How does this happen? Fear comes from many sources, we don't necessarily create them from myths.
My personal opinion is that we make fun of witches (which I don't believe in) and therefore deny them, rather than celebrating them, when we dress up and fool around at parties and on the neighborhood streets on October 31st.
Hey, there is something alluring about being scared, then being relieved by the obvious facade; who can say why?
Tonight, as kids and adults all over America don Scream masks, paint their faces, become Poltergeists, Princesses or Pirates and so on, they will know that we don't deny the scary, we face it head-on.
Be safe this Halloween, watch the kids and check the candy; but do not fear. Marvel instead at creativity and joy in dressing up, in meeting your neighbors by visiting their doorstep with a hearty "Trick or Treat!" And laughing at the dark.
Happy Halloween!

Hassles of the Holidays--I am the last person to complain about a paid holiday, but let's take a quick look:
-Washington's Birthday? Or is it referred to as President's Day so it can include Lincoln without adding another Federal Holiday? About 12 states call it the latter.
-Dr Martin Luther King Jr Birthday--need I say more? Did you know John McCain originally voted against this being a holiday but later recanted?
- Christmas: immaculate conception, now there's an easy concept for the earth's 6.5 billion citizens to wrap their heads around. Always gets the non-christian religions and atheists fired up--like that guy who lynches Santa Clause in his front yard every year. Why does a message of Peace on Earth, even from a certain religion, have to draw fire?
- Easter--returning from the dead, rebirth, very positive stuff; but to get to that point, you have to relive the betrayal, trial, torture, loneliness, and bottomless sorrow at the injustice of it all. Whether you believe in the resurrection or not, the prequel definitely happened in all it's gruesomeness.
- Thanksgiving: The natives saved the Pilgrims asses that year, then look what we did for the natives...
- Fourth of July: seemingly perfect, but try to get decent fireworks in most states without breaking laws. Sparklers don't cut it...
- Columbus Day: See Thanksgiving, and bear in mind Columbus landed in the Carribean and wasn't that nice a guy anyway.

Bottom line: Yay for 3-day weekends!!!

MVorpal's Truth Pulse Oct '08

2008-10-25T10:42:00.002-04:00

After careful research and ponderance, the latest:

Crop Circles: All fake, get over it. I mean, really.
Big Foot: Maybe. Lots of fakes...we can only hope; but don't wager your youngest child.
UFOs: Oh hell yes. Look to the skies. And bring a camera.
Rods: No. Video vagary.
Zombies: Yes, if my neighbors count.
Nessie: Probably not, that water is cold, man.
Champ: See Nessie.
Chupacabra: No. Mangy mutant dogs.
Mothman: Let's hope not--seriously creepy.
Giant snakes, bears, arachnids: Yup. Nature is really pissed at us.
Gators in the sewers: I wish. They're in the backyard pond.
Ghosts: Lots of weirdness out there, but no. Residual phenomena for sensitives.
Vampires, werewolves, etc: No. Just deluded wannabees looking for that 15 minutes.
Area 51: It's there, but sorry, no saucers and aliens. The government likes to pretend they're hiding something.
Hangar 17: See Area 51.
Toejam: Sadly, yes.
Sex after 50: Sadly, no.
Funny new sitcom: No.
Fusion power in my lifetime: No.
Fusion power in your lifetime: No.
Trip to Mars in my lifetime: Pleasepleaseplease...now that would be cool.

If they had known more about Lincoln...

2008-10-24T20:20:00.003-04:00

My only political blog entry, since the coming election is scary important.
First off, nothing you can tell me about President Lincoln will change my mind--he was the greatest man of his day, maybe all days, as far as being an American citizen. Someone else might have let the south secede--good grief, what would this continent, even the world, look like today? Honestly, I could see a slave-economy Confederacy having sided with facists in WW II. It must have been horrific to preside over the country during a half-million casualty civil war, but he got us through it, and displayed a humility at the end that started the country mending. However, we know now he suffered crippling depression at times, and that alone would probably shoot down his chances of presidency in today's vicious politic arena.
If greatness is evident only as a factor of the times, then which of our two viable choices for the coming election is capable of keeping the Union whole, of pulling us out of economic disaster or facing world war, of dodging the missiles of October? Is a "strong" leader strong in any and every circumstance, or do we have to win a cosmic lottery to have the right person at the right time?
The former possibility seems a long shot, but I think the latter is even more remote. I'd hate to think we just got lucky at critical junctures in our history. We are at another critical juncture, most of us believe.
If we can say we really know the candidates and can believe their promises, then what issue should we use to gauge, what should sway us. I once told my oldest daughter that during one election, I got emotional and voted solely on the right to life issue. Formerly a commited pro-choicer, I had an epiphany after hearing about all the abortion options and seeing what a fetus looks like at various stages. I could not fool myself into believing life, and the right to live, begins at birth; especially when fetuses are surviving ever-earlier pre-mature births. That said, I still feel there are circumstances where it might be "the right thing to do." Instances such as rape, incest and health of the mother. I realize that in saying that last part, I am hedging and therefore not in complete agreement with pro-life; but I'm OK with this seeming disconnect. I think few things pass a true "black or white" test.
It's really complicated out there, almost nothing is black or white. The candidate who makes a sweeping, concrete promise is overstating the power of the president. Both candidates say they will cut taxes--a lot. The experts say we can never afford it, and simple logic confirms it--we can't pay bills now, how can we cut government revenue?
OK, if we can't base our decision on campaign promises, maybe we have to "like" our candidate. Wait a minute, how can we like a candidate who has questionable acquaintenances, or one who wages a relentless negative campaign? Jeez, how distasteful!
Maybe we should go with experience. One has oodles, but has been around a loooooong time getting it. Should we be worried he'll die and pass the mantle to ....ulp. Experience would not carry the day there. The other has a short resume but lots of charisma. Does charisma = experience? Maybe not. If this one died in office, the VP would have oodles of experience, but you can't base a vote solely on expecting the death of a healthy young candidate.
So here's my point. The history books don't say all Lincoln's faults were widely known--and it's a sure thing all Nixon's and Kennedy's faults weren't. Simply put, we don't need to know everything we already know about these candidates. It's not that important. We only need to answer two questions: do we like the way things are going? And does the candidate mean to change that or not?
It may be just a question of faith. What do we believe will happen. I think it's as simple as this: one candidate will likely change things, one will largely not.
That's all I need to know, or believe. I know how I will vote.

Put on your big boy pants and deal with it.

2008-10-14T20:03:00.007-04:00

A couple weeks ago I had a bad week, but it reminded me of something from 15 years ago that brought a smile to my face. First, the week.
The night my son came to visit, I went to the airport to pick him up. The person staying with my wife had a dog phobia, and was afraid of our harmless but frisky 10 pound Bichon Frise. I put him in the garage with water and a bed. He must have barked for 5 hours, because I came home to an anonymous note in my mailbox saying essentially "don't mistreat animals or we will notify the authorities." It was signed "your neighbors."
Later that night the wife had a seizure that looked like a stroke, thus began a 4 day hospital stay.
A couple days later a collection agency told me that someone with whom I had co-signed for a Verizon cell phone 4 years ago had defaulted. And I had until 8 PM to fix it, and believe it or not, I did. But damage done, Verizon had already reported it to the credit bureaus. They said they wrote me 3 times in June/July warning me but I never got any letter--in truth it was during my wife's 2 month stay in ICU at MUSC Hospital in Charleston, and I was rarely home--but I had someone pick up the mail and I don't see how I could miss 3 letters? I doubt they ever sent them to my address, probably to the Las Vegas address of the other individual.
Next day I received a complaint and a visit from the Home Owners Association about rust stains on the house from the well-water sprinkler, and weeds on the edge of the pond behind the house (we rent, I could never afford to own this place). The complaint was from a neighbor who knows the problems we are having, but hey, why talk to people when you can complain to the HOA.
Maybe the worst thing was that after 6 months, Sheila succumbed to smoking again, even with COPD and spasms; we had a big blow-up there, but at least it gets her out of the bed because she has to smoke outside.
OK, so short of a pity party, I just felt pretty deflated. Then I remembered an old trick I used to use in the military, write down what's bugging me today, and put it in a letter. Pull it out in a month and see if the problems are still there, or if I still think of them as problems, and write next to them what happened. Usually, things aren't as bad as they seemed. Last time I did it, I left the list in a desk and forgot about it. A year later, the guy using my desk found me and said the list helped him immensely, especially the last entry. That entry read "I have no one to talk to."
That particular problem stemmed from the job I found myself in, where the circumstances don't allow you to open up to people about everything eating at you without serious fallout. It was a "no one understands" kind of comment. It was the only entry I continually put on the list without an answer, because I could never think of one. It was always there--but this time, I was tired of looking at it and had written next to it "Just deal with it." The guy who found the list said he felt the exact same way, and felt better because he knew someone else understood. It dawned on me no matter what you're going through, somebody understands.
The corollary is that somebody always has it worse, which I never forget.
So, here's the update.
We sold the barking dog (we had an add in the paper even before the barking episode), thank God, he was a lot of work; and I don't know who complained, but I've calmed down and it won't happen, at least over a dog, again.
The wife didn't have a stroke, and they changed her meds in the hospital and she seems to be doing better.
I wrote Verizon challenging the credit report, I'll let you know if I can ever recommend them again.
I was pissed about the HOA complaint, but rust remover worked, and a few hours at the pond actually did make it look better.
Lastly, Sheila does smoke, but only a couple cigarettes a day. I was not prepared to divorce her over it. It's an addiction, and one of the worst. Only time will tell how it affects her.
As for having no one to talk to? Well, there is this blog.

An Atmospheric Moment, and Abbot and Costello

2008-10-11T11:06:00.005-04:00

Of all the odd things to flit through my head today, images of Dracula, and Abbot and Costello. Even more odd, it happened while watching Cowboy Movie Day on AMC. They posed the question "The western didn't die with John Wayne, who will replace him?" I'm thinking, he's the type of guy you don't replace. And just like that, started parading through a bunch of people you don't replace, like Humphrey Bogart after Casablanca, Cary Grant after North by Northwest, and Martin Landau after he played Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood.
Bela Lugosi, now there was a character. In his 1930's movie, Dracula, he defined creepy terror, and that movie set the bar high for atmospheric backdrop. That moment when he announces himself on the huge, decrepit staircase in Castle Dracula, and proceeds to walk unruffled through a lattice of cobwebs that later snags the doomed Renfield--buddy, that there pinned your focus. Sadly, Bela was possibly the first actor to be branded with typecast, and never dug his way out. Landau's performance was the best kind of tribute, and in my opinion anointed Landau with that unreplaceableness.
Now comes the odd reach--Bela appeared in one picture with Abbot and Costello, they of the near-Einsteinian "Who's on First" routine. An A and C picture, ultimately a B-movie standard, was perhaps a telling and poignant commentary on Bela's career. Universal Studios didn't know what else to do with Bela. Being in that film, one of the string of "Abbot and Costello Meet..." movies, offered him another chance to be Dracula, and he ate it like a twelve course dinner. Also in the film, the Wolfman (played by a man who nailed the haunted, tragic victim role, Lon Chaney Jr.) and the Frankenstein monster (played by Glenn Strange, who later played the barkeep in Miss Kitty's saloon in Gunsmoke). Yup, there's a full moon and in the final showdown, Dracula is fighting off a raging Wolfman while A & C run from the monster, who, in this movie at least, works for the Big Sucker. The terrified duo is trapped in a room, but quick thinking(!?) Lou Costello grabs a blanket and whips it around his shoulders like a cape. Holding it in front of his face in the classic Dracula style, he commands the monster "Back, back..." Amazingly, the monster backs up and mutters "yes, master..."
SOB, it's working!!!
Suddenly, Costello drops his arm, looks back at Abbot, chuckles and says "He thinks I'm Dracula." Of course, the spell is broken and the chase is back on.
In that one single moment, Lou Costello, B actor and comedian, portrays courage, smugness, stupidity, and innocence. I defy you to give me an example of that by any other actor.
A and C tanked in their TV series, limited production budgets and more mundane settings than those in the movies made it unfunny and unwatchable. I sure miss them, but I still enjoy their movies.

For Whom the Bell Tolls

2008-10-08T09:59:00.004-04:00

This isn't supposed to be the "Blog of the Mad Fulltime Caregiver," I just can't escape the fact that so much of my life these days is about this process. I have learned tricks involving lifting limp bodies, protecting limbs during myoclonic spasms, managing up to a dozen prescription drugs simultaneously, feeding, cleaning and clothing an adult, etc. Tell you what though, I'll steer clear of that as much as I can.

I started thinking about what it's like to be on the other side, the recipient. Not just being sick, we've all been there; I'm talking about what a person thinks about when they don't know when or if they will recover from mental or physical ill health. Helplessness, hopelessness, courage, resolve, etc. There must be hundreds of books about both sides of this dilemma. I haven't read any of them. I suspect many people transition into these roles so gradually that only later do they think about support groups and self-help books. Trust me, after 5 months I'm thinking about them.

In the meantime, I have observed what may be obvious to many, but hit home to me only recently.

First, a test question. Have you ever noticed an abandoned shopping cart or basket in a store, and wondered why someone would do that? You might think the person just changed their mind about shopping and left mid-aisle, although this would seem an odd circumstance to most of us. Store managers would tell you it's a common ploy of shoplifters, and that's true. But there's a third possibility, and I've seen it for myself--the person may have had a panic attack and ran home.

This is a fairly recent insight, but not the most recent. People who find they can't go out or stay out for long have to create their own world. I think QVC, HSN and SNBC are safe harbors and surrogate families for the lonely, the agorophobic, the shut-in. My wife keeps the TV glued to QVC, occasionally HSN, and she likes to fall asleep to it. It drives me absolutely nuts. To me it's endless prattle about the most minute detail of largely uninteresting retail items. Unless they are promoting something unusual, you're going to find a better deal on the internet. The thing is, they are peddling much more.

The men on these shows are amiable, non-threatening, best guy in the world types. The women are the same, and though many are glamorous, ego and self-importance are not evident. Models are sometimes gorgeous, but equally as many are more plain, and many are plus-sized. The gamut of happy family archetypes is present, sans kids for the most part. And there are call-ins, supposedly testimonials for the products but often friendly exchanges and compliments. Some of these people (maybe most) are multiple repeat customers, actually admitting they have more than one of the sold items.

This symbiotic relationship is evolutionary. I don't think they started out targetting homebodies, but clearly they have identified their demographic and have fine-tuned the process. I originally found this distasteful, but later, thought it was a pretty fair deal. See, much as I hate being tied to the house as a caregiver I still have the ability, if not the opportunity, to leave. Since there are those who have neither, they can at least tune in to watch people who are friendly and available and have cultivated themselves to appeal to you. And nobody makes you pick up the phone and buy something, that's still optional.

In my house, 50% of that stuff gets sent back anyway...

Pain of Uncertainty

2008-09-25T13:38:00.003-04:00

Do you remember when, as a child, you first realized doctors can't fix everything? I do, but rather than recount the specific circumstance, I'm more interested in the "dance," as I came to understand it. Basically, MDs recommend tests, prescribe pills or refer to "specialists." Specialists recommend tests, prescribe pills or refer to surgeons. And surgeons cut, then prescribe pills. In the interstices, there are permutations on life-style changes that each will recommend; among the most famous: get some exercise, lose weight, and stop smoking.
I am not at odds with this structure. It works in many cases, as it did successfully with my, ahem, lower body surgery. But over the last say, 10 years, I have seen the ugly side of modern medicine.
Let's say you go to a doctor with a painful complaint or other symptom. You go through the dance, but pills don't help and surgery isn't indicated by any of the many tests you've taken. These tests tell you what you don't have. Now you enter a period of try this try that, and eventually you just give up and learn to cope. Second opinion? If insurance won't cover it, for any of several reasons, it's a non-option.
Another situation is pain management. I recently read a story about doctors who find themselves before the medical boards for prescribing "too much pain medication," and in several instances they are in trouble with civil authorities for "drug dealing." Many of these doctors were treating patients for chronic pain, like cancer or fibromyalgia. In fear of being persecuted, the article suggested many doctors will not prescribe sufficient pain meds but instead suggest pain management training or coping skills. Pain is pain, man.
Another situation is when a patient has multiple problems and is seeing 3 or more different specialists in addition to a PCM (primary care manager). No single one of these people is on top of the patients health situation in the holistic sense.
OK, my point is these three situations apply to my wife, who at the moderate age of 50, is basically an invalid. We are in limbo at this time waiting to see if a regimen of pills and therapy will restore her to some semblance of independence, but none of her doctors is making any promises.
The uncertainty of the future has a whole different meaning when it's about your health, than say, your favorite football team's next game.
As a kid, I remember my mom speaking in reverent tones about a doctor's visit (they used to make house calls in those days) like everything would be OK, because the doctor would see to it. The truth is a little disappointing--we mostly heal on our own for everyday ills, and doctors just prescribe symptom treatments. The truth is doctors can't fix everything, and in some instances can't fix anything. But, we dance.

Day 1

2008-09-13T22:35:00.001-04:00

An original title for this first entry if ever there was one. My daughter blogs and I'm going to give it a try. If I can't be witty and engaging, I will quit. That is, unless I tickle myself endlessly in a modestly self-absorbed way.

You are what you eat? Tell it to the bedpan. Today I changed a bedpan three times. Twice it contained a dark passenger; a reminder that no matter what you eat, you can't keep it. Oh, I guess you keep a lot of it, I myself have traded a six-pack for a minikeg. Earlier today my wife informed me I have about 6-8 pounds of undigested food in my intestines. This must be true, the colon cleanse info-mercial is beyond reproach. Isn't Klee Irwin photogenic? They confirm John Wayne, the Duke, had 42 pounds of the stuff when he died. I want to know what the hell they were doing in his intestines. "Hey, it was The Duke, we couldn't resist?" OK, maybe. But, how do you measure intestine content? Do you remove it from the corpse, stick a garden hose in one end and flush it into a container? Wouldn't it then contain water which itself is 6.5 pounds per gallon? I am suspiscious of this 42 pounds number. And, I can never watch the Duke's films in quite the same way again. I hope you're happy, Mr Irwin.