A Dry Year

For anyone noticing the ocean scenes on this blog page: Slash, the 16-ft Great White, and Me, the Diver hoping to avoid the menu, it might surprise you to hear that I haven't set fin in water in 2011.

Not that I didn't want to, but something always seemed to pop up to stop me. Absence of my Dive Buddy, failure (or out of maintenance window) of critical equipment, or bad weather all interfered. Business travel had its effect, too, as did my other passion of motorcycling (for which 2011 was a very good year). But none of these things were sufficient excuses to go a whole year without visiting the fish.

So for 2012 my resolution will be to get Me and my SCUBA equipment in better shape, and stay as wet as I can.

May the New Year be wet, real or metaphorically, for all who need it to be.

Mitt, Newt, and other Four-Letter Words

On the cusp of 2012, with an uncertain future facing our country (and much of the rest of the world), it's a pity we are provided with such poor choices for the next four years.

I read today that the GOP side of things will likely be Mitt vs Newt, a battle between the four-lettered. For the Dems the news is of a possible change-up between Hillary Clinton and Joe Biden, with the current Secretary of State becoming the VP candidate. I hope (4 letters) I'm wrong, but this move seems more political than practical.

Can the President be that worried about Mitt or Newt? From what I've seen so far, there isn't a hope in hell (4 letters) of either taking the national vote (also 4). In fact, it's likely this campaign will leave the career of one or both dead (4) in the water.

Political theater aside, what do we citizens have to look forward to? Either 4 more years of DC deadlock, or rule by a Mitt or a Newt ( or Mitt and Newt, egad!)

The prospect brings to mind several four-letter words (feel free to imagine your own) ...

Riding the Gift Horse into 2012

The economy has had some good news lately: 'Black Friday' sales were strong, and 'Cyber Monday' tallies were even better. There is reason to hope for a decent holiday buying season to follow. The unemployment rate is even down a notch or two. And there haven't been any recent scary reports about Europe.

The cost of gasoline, and (more importantly) diesel has eased from the hurtful highs of the summer. Things are looking up a bit, for sure.

But wait ... is this the dawn before the dark? A false spring before a renewed winter of discontent? One last breath of ease before the world ends in 2012?

Or are we really on the road to a sustainable recovery?

At this stage it's anybody's guess, but I'm not holding my breath. With an election ahead that seems to have no good end no matter which party wins, coupled with the specter of a deadlocked Congress lasting past mid-decade, who can dare to be positive about our future?

Still a little good news is welcome after all the bad that has rained down on 2011's parade. And we don't want to look too closely into the gift-horse's mouth.

A Little Clarity Please

I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around recent events. After all, it's not every day you have a bill (Defense Appropriations) in Congress containing a provision threatening to take away legal due process for American citizens. Especially when that particular piece of the bill seems to be supported by the democratic administration.

Good thing for us all that the republicans have added other verbiage unpalatable enough to the demos that passage is unlikely.

I am also grappling unsuccessfully with the concept of the 'Occupy' movement opting to close down the Ports of Los Angeles, Oakland, Portland, and Seattle. True, powerful corporations profit from the Port traffic, but then so do thousands of blue collar workers. In balance, I think the workers lose more than the moneyed interests in any closures, so why do it? I guess I just don't get the 'Plan' - unless there is no plan and we are just seeing a revived anti-globalism for which Ports are seen as smuggling routes for foreign carpetbaggers and their domestic allies.

And I still don't see any cogent reasoning behind the GOP presidential candidates. When is the REAL candidate going to step forward? It CAN'T be Newt. Is there anyone behind the curtain? Can that evil wizard Karl Rove have lost his touch? Or has he been drowned in Tea and banished from Oz?

As it stands now President Obama should have it easy come the election, but easy isn't what this country needs. We need a tough dialog and comprehensive debate between two strong candidates, not something akin to a protracted SNL skit.

My wish for this Holiday would be to have some clarity arrive with the new year. Statesmanship and fruitful compromise seems unlikely, so clarity is about the best we can hope for. Fingers crossed, everyone ...

Occupy This Space

I have watched with interest all the 'Occupy' gatherings around the country. As someone firmly entrenched in the 99% - albeit the upper 10% of that demographic, I completely sympathize with the catchphrase, 'Tax The Rich', depending on what you call 'Rich'.

I can't quite gel with 'Eat The Rich', though, largely because I am on a diet, and the 'Rich' may well be too fattening. The definition of who is 'Rich' is also important here, since my current pulchitrude would be too appealing if I were to be lumped in with the 'Rich'. Thankfully, a mortgage and college tuition for two will make it quite unlikely I will be mistaken for a 'Ritchie' anytime before I die.

Generally, though, I am behind the movement. And I do mean 'behind'. My generation had enough of getting clubbed and water-hosed back in the 60's and 70's. I'll hang back and defend the rear guard. I accept your thanks with great humility. You are welcome.

My favorite role in this movement would be as the 'counselor' or 'Grand Vizier' (if that's not too Islamic for political correctness). I believe I could give good advice. My first guidance would be to occupy someplace nice. For instance, why occupy downtown LA? Why not Santa Monica? It's still part of Greater LA and Santa Monica boasts the best facilities for the homeless in America - plus there's the beach for getting clean. And don't forget the stunning view.

My second bit of imparted wisdom would be to combine the protest with some practical and helpful action, like street repair. Why not fill up some potholes which marching around? Leave the place you are occupying better than you found it. Spread a little grass seed around the park while you are pounding up the soil with your protesting feet. Paint over some graffiti (faster than you create it).

Of course, the ultimate and overall goal of this movement is, as near as I can gather, to get government in this country to shift a reasonable portion of its attention from the richest of Americans to the rest of us. To get Congress to think about us, the people they have been elected to represent, at least as much as they think about the corporations who fund their campaigns and who bribe (pardon, 'lobby') them with junkets and trinkets and jobs (oh my!)

I wish the movement all success in getting this message through. At the moment, though, it seems the active 'occupiers' aren't too focused in their demands, and it will remain to be seen whether anything realistic and meaningful comes of the movement. Even if it doesn't, those in power in this government, and their corporate backers, would be remiss in dismissing this movement. As I alluded in an earlier blog post, 'occupy' may be the surface bubbling of a vaster underground volcano. Better to do something progressive to release that pressure now, than bottle it up and risk a major blow-out later.

Poetry Break: Perry Draws a Blank

Governor Perry Had But Three

Agencies to Tank

Two he could remember,

On the Third he drew a Blank

Deer in headlights, Mind wiped by Fear

He couldn't dredge it up, his Brain was out of Gear

Is this the End of Perry's Charge?

Will his Campaign sink, like a torpedoed Barge?

Governor Perry Had But Three

Agencies to Tank

Two he could remember,

On the Third he drew a Blank

For this mighty lapse, Mitt has much to Thank

Lightning Judgement

The Penn State child molestation case has taken ominous form: like a racing, ravenous beast it is quickly chewing up lives and reputations.

It was only a few days ago the story first broke, and now we have coach Joe Paterno and the school president both fired.

And nobody's had a single day before a judge and jury. Not the alleged perpetrator, not the school president, and not Mr. Paterno.

The trial will eventually take place, and we'll know the truth of this sordid and tragic nightmare, but the verdict will come after the de facto sentence for Coach Joe. Perhaps the information the Penn State Boad of Trustees has received is specific and convincing enough to take action, but they haven't told us a thing.

I guess in the court of public opinion, only an accusation is needed, if it's horrible enough and the people and institutions involved are newsworthy.

UPDATE:

The news now is a grand jury has produced a report which details the allegations against the alleged perpetrator. Paterno and the rest are in the hot seat for not reporting what they knew to the police as soon as they knew it. Ostensibly the reports are Paterno did nothing illegal (although others higher-up did), but failed on moral and ethical grounds.

Although the soon-to-be-defendant hasn't yet had a day in court (the alleged perp denies all charges), the consequences of his (alleged) actions continue to cascade and amplify outwards, affecting not just the victims (who have suffered enough), but dragging more and more people into the vortex. Some of the people who have been (or will be) punished for their involvement will deserve it. Certainly the defendant, if proved guilty, will. Others may to varying degrees. But a few won't. They will be crucified for peripheral sins, or by mere association, or for just being less-than-perfect humans at a time when perfection was expected (in hind sight).

UPDATE TWO:

Click here to access the ABC News link to the Grand Jury presentment

If even half of what is presented is proven in a court of law ... but I don't see where Paterno is legally cited for anything other than poor judgement. The brunt of the blame, other than to the truly sick perpetrator, goes to Paterno's bosses for apparently lying to the Grand Jury. Still, Coach Joe has retained a criminal defense lawyer as of Friday, November 11.

UPDATE THREE (Nov 17):

Penn State is circling the wagons as the lawsuit storms gather on the horizon. As some of the victims (I guess we must still say 'alleged' at this point) hire attorneys, everyone at Penn State seems to be getting lawyered up too. The Board of Trustees actions in firing the President and Coach Paterno (and others) begins to make more sense as a CYA attempt at damage control. But, a bit like putting up sandbags to hold back the Mississippi, the benefit is likely to be temporary.

Meanwhile, the principal character in all this, the alleged Perpetrator, does a phone interview with a network news program and all but damns himself while his lawyer was in the studio nodding approval. Is this the beginning of an insanity defense, as in 'May it Please the Court, my client is innocent since his mental age is less than that of the victims...'

The LAST WORD in this space regarding this travesty comes as an apology: it seems my use of the phrase 'Lightning Judgement' was completely incorrect. This mess has been simmering below the media surface for at least two years, so there is nothing 'Lightning' about it. Except perhaps the media reaction. (Where were all those reporters all the time the Grand Jury were deliberating? Why wasn't there any coverage?) And, it looks as if nobody in the chain of knowledge at Penn State is completely blameless in this. The failure of so many to do what is right may be all too human, but a huge shame nonetheless, and altogether too familiar to what we've seen and heard in the abuse cases brought against catholic priests over the past decade.

Euro Oh Oh

Greece is on the lip of the abyss, and Italy is slipping towards it down the Silvio slime-trail.

Who would of thought the Euro-zone would end up like this?

Somewhat more than half of the British people, actually.

Those 'Euro-skeptics' who said 'No, mate' to their countrymen who wanted to join in the common currency, are looking much wiser today than when they dug in their heels to save the beloved Pound, irritating many and looking like obstructionists to the glowing dream of a United Europe.

Of course, the skeptics' reasoning wasn't exactly economic, it was a fight to retain British sovereignty, but that's a story for another time.

No, it's enough now to say the British pubs are probably buzzing with 'I told you sos ...'

They'd better enjoy themselves while they can, since the bill for Euro bailout will be coming soon, and I doubt they can dodge it, skeptics or not.

Shake and Quake

I am not a sympathizer with the Mayan 2012 end-of-times lunacy that's been raging in popular culture the past few years, at least ... not ... yet ...

Lately I've been forced to admit it is odd that we've had two of the five largest earthquakes in recorded history occur in just the past 7 years, both followed by two of the most devastating tsunamis.

It is also weird in the extreme that we've had an earthquake hit the Eastern US, shaking both Washington DC and New York out of their tectonic complacency.

And now, even stranger, a quake hits Oklahoma, where the wind sweeps gently through the plains (when it's not sand-blasting through as tornadoes, that is).

What next, a typhoon in Des Moines?

Which is all to say I am now a bit confused. You can blame weird weather on man-made global warming, but it's much harder to blame earthquakes on carbon emissions. Unless sucking all that lubricating oil out of the crust might be causing some sticking and cracking?

Or maybe, just maybe, the Mayans had something there. Could all their kooky modern-day adherents have something too? Can we be on the run-up to the end?

I'm still a skeptic, preferring to believe these are just natural events that aren't leading to some catastrophe predicted a thousand years ago; but, hey, I've an open mind and time left to ponder (I hope).

Idiots United

Anyone see the movie Idiocracy? Mike Judge may be this generation's Nostradamus ...

Scanning what passes for news this fine Saturday morning, I was seized by a sudden, unwelcome thought. Which, since misery really does love company, I have to share with you:

What if the technology which has been built for us by very smart people is acting to amplify, popularize, and entrench idiocy? What if we are started on a cultural path that will allow public and institutional stupidity to drown out intelligent thought?

Think about it. Before the computer and internet technical revolutions, smart people had plenty of avenues to share their intelligence with each other, to build on that common ground, and advance. Universities, research institutes, scholarly magazines, and symposia were there to allow the meeting of the minds.

Conversely, there weren't as many ways for idiots to unite and encourage each other's dumbness. Sure, there were the social clubs - the Moose, the Shiners, the Kiwanises (Kiwanii?), but there was always the chance their membership would include a smattering of smarties. Most idiots just sat at home and watched sports, or drank a pint down the pub with their happily stupid mates.

But things are different now. We have Facebook. We have blogging (no IQ test needed). We have Tweeting for Twits. The most idiotic among us can instantly and repeatedly share their thoughts, either solo or in combination with dimwitted compatriots. Idiocy can be amplified until it drowns out everything else.

And then we get presidential candidates who think China is just now seeking nuclear weapons (they got them in the 1960's), who believe past indiscretions won't be brought up during campaigns, and who believe that denial of already discovered truth works as a strategy.

Which is too uncomfortably close to that movie I mentioned in opening this post. Dullards, it seems, are everywhere and in all strata of society. Smart people are still out there trying to say their piece, but are increasingly out-shouted by the technologically-amplified stupidity of the idiots.

Huckabee Zen Moment

The Daily Show may be off on Sundays, but I managed my 'zen moment' from watching the opening of Huckabee on Fox News.

Mike's message today was in favor of taking the high ground in politics. He stated he did not question anything personal about President Obama, only his decisions on the issues.

That would be a welcome attitude, if not for the opening sequence to the show, in which a faux Obama tries out several costume options for Halloween, finally choosing to make himself King Barack.

So much for sticking to the issues, Mike ... but thanks for the moment of zen.

Time for the Un-Silent Majority?

A recent Time Magazine cover heralded the 'Return of the Silent Majority'.

My question: how do you tell when something that is 'silent' has returned? How do you know it left? Or that it ever existed?

If this majority returns, but is silent, what's the difference between that and staying gone?

It seems we identify such a group by adding up the un-silent factions and subtracting those numbers from the presumed general population. What remains is the majority, presumed to be silent.

But if they are silent, then why?

Maybe they have no opinion to voice.

Perhaps they feel that speaking out would not help. (Perhaps it might hurt?)

It could be they have outlets for their anger or frustration - like watching the Daily Show or torturing squirrels.

Maybe they agree with the extreme positions and aren't a majority of difference, just impassivity or placid acceptance.

In the end, why the majority is silent doesn't matter. It's the silence that is important. Or contra-important, because it minimizes an entire segment of the population, presuming that silent segment exists.

So Speak Up, Silent Majority! Time to groan, moan, whimper, or rage. Make any sound you want, but let us know you are out there.

Mister 999

Finally, someone proposes a simple plan. Albeit a crackpot one, it's still a plan. And it is simple.

Just as simple as the plan George McGovern had in 1972. His plan was to give most people a tax credit for $1000 dollars. I could have used a grand in '72, but hey, he lost.

OK, Herman Cain's plan is a bit less simple. It's based on a revision of tax codes to allow for a 9% personal income tax, a 9% business income tax, and a 9% national sales tax, hence '9-9-9'. (I wonder if anyone on the religious right has made the connection that 999 turned upside down is '666'. Oops, did I let the cat out of the bag ?)

So why 999? Why not 10-9-9, or 10-10-10? Why not 888 or 898 or 899 or 998? ( That last would connect well with classic Ducati superbike fans). Is it entirely arbitrary? Were the numbers pulled out of a hat? Whose hat?

I am not saying the plan might not work. I don't have the economic credentials to make that prediction. I'm just pondering the toss-off nature of the numbers. And I'm a bit concerned about that last one - the 9% national sales tax.

Here in California we have a state income tax that is about 10% for the top tier of earners. The sales tax where I sit is 8.75%. Does this mean that Mr. Cain's plan will give the top tier of CA earners a total income tax of 19% (presumably no loopholes) and all sales in CA will get taxed to the tune of 17.75%? I can live with that 19% on income, but nearly 18% for sales? What will that do to sales of big-ticket items like cars? Almost a Value Added Tax (VAT), isn't it?

I have my doubts this will fly if closely examined by those it will affect. Which means those of us already in the mid-tax brackets - the plan won't decrease our taxes much, and it might actually increase them, but it will boost the cost of purchases significantly. The folks this will help are corporations, the big income earners, and those individuals who incorporate themselves - they will have substantially lower income taxes, and sales tax won't be as burdensome to those with plenty of cash to throw about.

Which all goes to the point I firmly believe: Mr Cain's 999 plan is a devious scheme to fool the average guy and gal into thinking it is a reform of the tax code to make life simpler, when it's really just a simpler, more straightforward way for the rich to get richer and the rest of us to get soaked. It will hurt the 99 percenters more than the current system, while the one percenters get another huge break.

The joke of it all is that it's a ruse. The one percenters won't vote for it either. Because at base it is crackpot, and they know it.

Mr. Cain may have sold a ton of pizzas, but his latest 'topping' is a poisonous addition to the political discourse.

Like George McGovern in 1972, Herman Cain won't win, since simple plans only fool a few, or fool the many for only a short time.

Last Chances

I am not an alarmist by nature. A bit of a worrier, sure, but I don't read apocalypse into everything Fox News reports.

But I do believe our country is reaching one of those critical moments. You know, like perched on a 50th floor ledge with slippery shoes and not a firm handhold in sight. And the wind is picking up.

Only in my vision, the ledge-dwellers are us, the 99 percenters, and we've been shut out on that slippery precipice by the ruling few. They're inside, where it is safe and warm. Having a discussion over cocktails about who's policies are best for us. Or perhaps they're not having a discussion - they could be duking it out, mud wrestling for victory. But whatever it is they are doing, they've nearly forgotten about us.

The more desperate out here on the ledge are beginning to organize and plan. If the rulers inside don't open the window, throw us a rope, place a net, or do anything to help soon, who knows what kind of chaos might result. After all, we either need to get off that ledge, or die.

People are beginning to organize and protest, folks. There is a chance the 'occupy' movements, small now, may grow in the face of political stalemate and indifference at the top (mud wrestling to a draw in DC, followed by cocktails at the club).

As one of the folks out on that ledge who are still hopeful those inside will wise up, get a plan, and let us back in (or throw us a stout rope), I'm getting nervous about the wilder crew who are simmering on the windy precipice.

Their big hope (Obama) hasn't paid off. The possible alternatives are all completely unpalatable - at least based on the way those alternatives have described themselves in their campaigns.

We may have one Last Chance for those in power to show leadership, compassion, and a shared American vision. If the one percenters mess this up, what next? The ledge is slippery, and it's getting cold out here.

The Makings of a President

It will not be long now before we must choose our next President. (Are you tingling with anticipation?)

Shall we keep the one we have, or choose from that other party? (A motley assortment, but entertaining)

Well, I'm here to sort you out with a few helpful tips on what to look for in our next commander-in-chief. If you ignore these gems, don't say I didn't warn you. (And I will remind you of this if you choose badly)

Wayne's Tips On Presidential Qualifications, 2012 Edition

Know The Job - Be sure your preferred candidate knows exactly what the job entails, and what it means to take it. Have they studied the policies and decisions of every one of our former leaders (and not just Ronald Reagan)? Are they prepared to be 'alone at the top'? Have they practiced stopping the buck and are they any good at it? Most importantly, how's their constitution (their health, not the document)? We don't want them to look as if they are dying while on a jog (ala Jimmy C), or vomiting on foreign dignitaries (George B Senior).

Know About Money - It's the economy, stupid! Our next President had better know his/her stuff, and I don't just mean how to spout meaningless statistics - that's the Secretary of the Treasury's job. If they can't lecture eloquently on every major recession, dip, and depression since the Great One, and wax profound on how each and every one was fixed (if it was), they don't qualify. Boot them off the list (or move them to the VP queue).

Know Our Enemies (and our friends) - If the next President isn't thoroughly familiar with every threat this nation has ever faced, how can they possibly know who to trust on the world scene? They should know our friends well too, since many of them were - or one day will be - also our enemies.

Know War and What It's Good For (absolutely nothing?) - America has enemies, friendly enemies, and inimical friends (see above). All of whom may at one point or another attack us, appear to attack us, or just be reported on Fox News as possibly thinking about attacking us. At which point our next President must know what War is and whether to wage it (or stop watching Fox).

Know Our Country - In order to qualify for President, a candidate must be able to cite all 50 states and their capitals, as well as list our protectorates and territories (bonus points for their capitals). They should also be able to locate all of these on a map. If none of the candidates can do this - and let's face it that's a possibility, then rank them in order of number correctly chosen. Bonus points if they know what the heck the District of Columbia is.

There you have it. Five simple rules with which to test our future President's qualifications. Of course there are many more important qualifications, like being able to read and write, having a twitter account, and liking dogs, but those are beyond the scope of this humble essay ...

Keep Watching The Skies!

What is up, surely must come down ...

Space Bus bust - for a minute there they had our attention, butts perched on seat edges, chewing our collective nails in nervous anticipation. Where would that damn decrepit bus-sized satellite come down? NASA wasn't entirely clear on this subject, leaving about 80% of the world's population as possible targets. But the Upper Atmosphere Research Satellite (UARS) plunked down with little fanfare, somewhere near Christmas Island in the remote Pacific. Nice that no humans were hurt in the process, but I'll bet a few fish had quite a surprise.

Drone Over Me (Not) - many Americans enjoy the hobby of operating radio-controlled planes. This is a good thing, since remotely controlled flying missile platforms are weapon numero uno in our anti-terrorism arsenal, it seems, and we'll need plenty more good 'pilots' in the future. Of course, now that we are using these devices against American citizens (albeit nasty bearded dual-citizenshipped American citizens), we may all have to mind our Ps and Qs, watch our backs, and keep watching the skies ...

Silence Is Not Golden

Sometimes so many things of a dispiriting nature happen so quickly, we can't absorb the intensity of it, let alone manage it adequately.

This can be personal or it may be our work that throws up curves. It may also be the cares of the world at large that press in on us - delivered through the news: televised, printed, or internet-beamed.

Whatever the source, there are times when we feel an intense need for silence. Not a monkish vow of silence, but rather a keeping of opinions to ourselves, as if voicing them will remind us of just what a pickle we're (all) in. We continue to live our lives and communicate the usual daily messages of family and camaraderie, but we keep our questioning light hidden, our speculations bland, and our fears diluted to insignificance before utterance.

This may affect us all. It certainly affects writers, including those in the blogosphere. Contrary to what may be general perception, bloggers aren't typically infected with runaway cases of the verbal shits. We as a rule speak through our blogs when we feel we have something meaningful to say, even if the meaning is just for us. Maybe especially if it's just for us. And if we can't express what we are feeling meaningfully, we fall silent.

I must say events of the world of late have been of the truly silencing kind. What do you say about what's happening with our government? With other governments around the world? How do you react when the most promising developments are bloody revolutions?

It seems that each day we've awakened these past few months has held nothing but grimmer and grimmer news for us. And it breaks our hearts to think too much about it, let alone comment.

We sit back and let John Stewart or Colbert spoof our miseries away, by letting us laugh at the absurdity of our situations. This is a salve to our distress, but not a solution.

As it turns out, neither is silence. By keeping mum and laughing it out of our system, we perpetuate it all, in a cycle of increasing depression, hopelessness, and ultimately apathy. Nothing can be fixed, it's all a joke, just live your life with your head down and keep on keeping on. But that is an insidious capitulation.

Rather, now is the time for all of us - bloggers as well as folk usually less forward with their opinions, to speak up, write your thoughts down, or go out and shout them from atop a soapbox in the park.

Whatever works best for you.

I promise I'll be writing, and reading, and listening.

Labor Day

Well, this is Monday, 5 September, 2011, and presumably, officially, 'Labor Day'.

This would be a good day for all of us who have jobs to give profuse thanks, and for those still seeking gainful employment to emulate the British of eons past and keep your upper lip as stiff as possible.

Speaking of 'gainful' employment, I wonder how many of us can say we have it? When does it become so? I suppose if, at the end of the month, you've earned a penny more than expenses and taxes, that could be considered a gain, although you won't build much of a nest egg or rainy day fund at that rate. Especially if you put that penny in the bank to earn a half of one percent in interest. And more especially if you charge anything on a credit card at sixteen percent interest. That fifteen and a half percent gulf will certainly discourage your borrowing to spend on anything not absolutely necessary, right?

But I have slipped off-topic ...

It's good to have a job, and today is the day to celebrate. It's also the day for employers everywhere to rejoice in the good fortune of having an enormous worker pool to fish in. It's a wondrous gift indeed to have so many to choose from. There would be even more choices if our schools could graduate more qualified people. But then, in an economy that is 90% service, what skills do graduates need?

There I go again, off-topic ...

So, to everyone out there with a job today, gainful or not, relax, take a sip of something cool and refreshing, fire up the bbq and have a laugh or two with friends and family. If you have to work today, then the rest of us will just celebrate all the harder, in your honor.

It's a Mad World

In the early 1960's the makers of the film, "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World" had something a little different in mind. Their 'Madness' was of a wacky, crazy, exhilarating type. It was something to be proud of - in an offhanded way.

It is my increasingly jaundiced opinion that one 'Mad' is all we would need in the title today, because that Madness would be of an entirely more evil and destructive kind.

It would be the Madness of the poorly educated, the desperate, and the brutal. It would be the Madness of the opportunists who seek to harness the unhappiness of those three.

When I think of the magnitude of the tasks inherent in combating this Madness, I quail.

When I search for signs of thoughtfulness and composure in our leaders, I despair.

When I reach out to my fellow citizens I sometimes see things I would rather I had never seen.

Hope is not all lost. There have been worse, or at least equally bad, times for this world. And our (my) views of the leaders that got us through those times is rose-colored by historical edits of what was reality. In contrast, we see the here and now in ugly clarity.

So, long after most of us are gone from this world, I hope there will be people somewhere living peacefully. People who have hope of a better future for their children and a reasoned respect for their leaders - a respect earned by action.

I can only hope in this future, since this surely is not the case now ...

Slow Ride

I rode very slowly today. On a motorcycle. On one of the greatest roads for riding in America.

But slow was what I was feeling.

Maybe because the rest of life has been moving very fast: daughter off to college; increasing responsibility at work; a year's worth of "To Do's" piled up - you know ...

Sometimes the best reaction to perceived excessive speed is to slow down.

But on a ride?

Speed on two wheels is one of the better ways I've found to clear my head and re-center. Just enough speed to force away all extraneous thoughts, but not too much to introduce distracting fear.

But not today. Nothing could drive the thoughts - the worries if you will, away, and so I guess I entered a reverse feedback loop and slowed down. Speed clears the mind, a cluttered mind slows you down.

Seems like a quandary, but if the hypothesis is true, so is the cure ... ride faster next time. Twist that throttle and leave those pesky worries behind.

Cut Off Nose, Spite Face

It is a very human desire to want to undermine your competition. Ruin their best-laid plans. Crush them like the creepy-crawly bugs you surely know they are.

We can see there are quite a few 'Congressmen' in Washington who are exhibiting this desire right now.

They have their supporters too, people who desperately want the party in power to fail, no matter the cost. These folks are smugly cheering as the politicians tug-o-war their way to the precipice.

But for the rest of us, this behavior makes less than no sense. Individuals may gleefully and frequently cut off their noses to 'spite their faces', but not governments. There is too much at stake and too many people that will be hurt.

Poetry Break: Super Pac Man

I wanna be a Pac Man

and gather lots of monies

to spend on causes and good works

not fun or playboy bunnies

I'd sponsor legislation

that would save the human race

Not fund NASA in sending

the first Stripper into Space

So can I get a Super Pac, just like Steve Colbert?

And manage spending programs from home, in my underwear?

If Stephen C can do it, why can't I?

At least Let Me Try!

I'm not distracted by celebrity and fame

I have lots of time, since no one knows My name.

I wanna be a Pac Man;

I'll be balanced and so, so, fair,

Just like Fox News and,

Good 'ol Steve Colbert

The Definitions of Power

As we are beginning to learn, what constitutes Right or Wrong in government (and this includes the White House, regardless the occupant), can be manipulated by creative definitions.

The latest example being our current President's defining of 'hostilities' in the context of the War Powers Act. It seems if we are engaged in 'hostilities', the President must obtain the approval of Congress within 90 days after the start of the action. Given this President and this House of Representatives, that would be an uneasy situation, so the Prez avoids the confrontation by declaring the action not to meet the definition of 'hostilities'.

Apparently, to be hostile according to the White House, your real troops must have their actual boots on the ground in the exact place where the action is occurring. Boots comfortably planted on US territory while their owners control guided unmanned drones and fire missiles at the 'targets' isn't considered to be engaging in 'hostilities' - even though the suddenly dead occupants of blown-up buildings might argue that point, had they been given the opportunity.

Just in case you've been sleeping and haven't noticed, this 'debate' is happening right now over our involvement in Libya.

I'd like to believe this situation will spur another, broader, debate over the meaning of what is meant by 'effective' in the context of our government ...

Friends On The Ride

If you participate in an activity that most people find dangerous and inexplicable, you make acquaintances. Often, you find Friends.

This is what has happened in my passionate pursuit of riding motorcycles.

These Friends may be other Riders, or just people who like bikes. They may be met in person, or in an online forum for enthusiasts. The Friendships may be barely more than acquaintances, or they may be deep indeed.

When non-Riders overhear our conversations, they think we're nuts. How can people talk so long and fervently about 'slipper clutches', 'helmet cams', and torque curves? Why do bikers get so excited about the scary act of flying through a twisty bend at a healthy lean angle? Just what is 'lean angle' and what's so darn 'healthy' about it?

Non-Riders will instantly browse away from any motorcycle forum they may accidentally land on. If they don't, they'll be perplexed by the threads, which carry meaning only for the initiated and truly obsessed.

Shared passions and outsider status can bond people, who might otherwise share no common ground.

Which pretty much describes us - Friends on The Ride (?FoTR?).

A Tip of The Helmet, then, to a few of my FoTR who are now gone but never forgotten: Sammy, Daniel, and Uncle Ernie. Death and the Road took you too soon. Rest in Peace, Gentlemen.

A Downside of Being Connected

These days it's possible to get to know people we would never have met in times past. People who live far away, or perhaps one town over but moving in parallel but separate universes.

The internet has made this possible. It's a Good Thing, expanding our conversations and community in very real ways.

But I have just witnessed a big Down Side: with connection comes a level of caring, and when someone you know 'virtually' dies in reality, it can hurt. Perhaps not as keenly as when a 'real' and 'local' friend passes away, but still a pain that resonates.

A person I never met, whose voice I never heard, died this week. We shared presence on a web forum, sometimes responding to each other's posts, but mostly just co-existing in a local node in the webisphere. I admired his wit and wisdom. He wrote well. But I didn't really know him. I shouldn't be so affected by his death, but I am.

It's a good thing then, that a forum can grieve almost like a brick-and-mortar community. If acquaintances can be this real, our support must be too.

WeinerGate: Are There Any Grown-Ups in Congress?

I have been patiently waiting to see how our elected representatives would manage the national 'crisis' that is 'WeinerGate' - the juvenile twittering, sexting, and banal facebook postings that the media have foist upon our attentions, with the regrettable and unpalatable participation of Representative Andrew Weiner.

My patience has been futile.

On the Republican side, there appears to be no mercy and no sense 0f irony in their lambasting of the man. On the Demos side, to which Rep Weiner has been a long-time (ahem) member, we have seen little but confusion and deer-in-headlights indecision, which has been followed recently by a distinct and inhumane move toward cutting losses by tossing Weiner onto the nearest convenient trash heap. That's something we'd expect from the Palinites, not the Pelosians.

My take on the whole sordid affair?

Simple:

A. The man's an idiot, albeit an understandably human one. He is weak-willed and easily succumbs to frat-boy ideas of silly, stupid, and digusting 'fun', when he should be a sober-minded public servant. Andrew Weiner is essentially a congressional adjunct member of the 'Jackass' crew, absent the physically dangerous stunts (although we haven't seen all the emails and facebook stuff, so who knows?).

B. Our press are mostly idiots. They drop everything else of importance to cover a story that only affects the majority of us in the most peripheral of ways. And they hang on to it like it's as golden to the 4th Estate as Watergate once was. There's an element of pandering to the public's delight in watching someone powerful self-destruct, which is sad to see in play here. Feeding our guilty pleasures this way isn't in our best interest or the media's. It may bring short term viewership through titillation, but it will reap long-term self-disgust and a backlash towards the press.

C. Sadly, our elected representatives are a pretty idiotic bunch too. All of them, not just Mr. Weiner. The course of action should be obvious, but doesn't seem to register: whether the representative should be censured or should resign is a matter between Mr Weiner and his wife, his constituents, the congressional ethics committee, and the criminal justice system. If the representative is found to have committed a felony he should resign (even before conviction, in my opinion). If his constituents decide he's too idiotic or too bold (or bad) a liar to represent them, then he will be recalled or voted out at the next election. If the House Ethics committee finds against him, he should be censured. Everything else is a personal matter for Mr Weiner and something neither we, the press, nor his fellow congressionals should be following. We all have better things to do, don't we?

At least those of us who watch The Daily Show and The Colbert Report got something out of this mess to soften our depression over it all. Jon Stewart and Colbert did a remarkable job of turning the satiric mirror on the press, our leaders, and on us, letting us laugh a bit at ourselves to keep from crying or breaking down, or dropping into a nihilistic funk.

We witnessed Jon Stewart visibly struggling with commitment to his viewers in the face of his admitted friendship with Mr. Weiner. Whether you feel he did well in that struggle or failed will largely be subjective, but the struggle itself was refreshingly non-cynical.

Which is a good thing, helping offset the rock hard cynicism with which most of us view Congress - and the Press.

Memorial Day 2011

We've come once again to that part of the year where we pause to remember those who have served and died in America's wars; from the birth of our nation in the Revolution, through the darkest days of the Civil War; from the unimaginable destruction of the World Wars of the 20th century, through the 'police actions', humanitarian interventions, and 'regime change' which still take our young men and women in the 21st.

When we visit the graves this weekend, in person or in thought, let us also remember the many millions of non-combatants who also died in armed conflicts. They were, and still are, the 'collateral damage' of war, and victims to the hunger and disease that are so often war's companions. Their graves may not be marked by rows of white crosses on some hallowed field, or even marked at all, but their lives were just as forfeit and deserving of memorial.

This year, I would ask us to remember also the journalists and human rights champions, who observe and report our wars, and too often give their lives so we may know the truth.

Farewell and Rest In Peace to Tim Hetherington, photojournalist and filmmaker, who was killed this year in Libya. To his family and close friends he will be dearly missed. Those of us who had the privilege to know him, if only briefly, were impressed by his dedication, talent, and good nature, and we share your grief.

May we all have good memories, if bittersweet, this weekend, and return resolved to make real the day when war is no more.

Newt and Arnold at The End of The World

There are sometimes synergies between world events which enliven the news. And better still, there may be ironies included that lighten the otherwise heavy dudgeon - so viewers won't be bored or can skip their Zoloft. I think the week or so just past has been one of those times.

First we had the news explaining the split between Maria and Arnold; that is, we heard about Arnold's affair with his housekeeper and the 'love-child' he had with her. This was another of those fun moments when we realize that the tabloids and our paranoia can combine to be right about someone. Remember way back when Arnold was running for governor? Those stories about his groping and being generally a pig around women? They (and our gleeful gossipy hopes) were right!

And where had we seen this sort of thing before? Remember when Bill Clinton was first running for President? Remember those stories of his illicit liaisons, and the threats and bribes to keep the ladies quiet? Fast forward to Monica Lewinski and her dress: we were right!

Of course, in neither case did the rumors (or reality) cause them serious problems in their candidacies, and when we found out the truth, they were already out of office (more or less). Lucky. But not everyone is so fortunate. Take Newt Gingrich, for instance.

Mr. Gingrich is a notorious womanizer, according to the press (and the man himself). But, just as we witnessed with the two gents above, that kind of personality issue wouldn't, couldn't, hurt his candidacy. We just would never find out the worst until after he's ruled the world and retired.

No, Mr. G has been deliciously brought down, it seems, and herein lies the lovely irony, by giving a thoughtful, honest, opinion. Not a character flaw at all, unless you happen to be a power-broker in the republican party machine, or a Tea-Party fantasist. Then it seems, honesty is the flaw trumping all others.

When Newt was asked in a TV interview, what he thought of republican Paul Ryan's draconian budget plans for Medicare, he answered (and I paraphrase) that he didn't believe social engineering from either the left or the right was the proper duty of the legislature.

As Jon Stewart said on the daily show, that was a perfectly middle-of-the-road statement for a centrist republican - if only those people existed today. Newt forgot for a moment that his backers are fundamentalist in thought and fervent in their desire to dismantle government, i.e., to engineer social change as they see fit.

Now, there may be some doubt whether Mr. Gingrich really meant what he said, or was just trying to be noncommittal, as most serious politicians learn to be in the run-up to an election. It doesn't really matter, because in the eyes of his backers, he's a traitor.

So it looks to be the end of Newt's comeback from political exile to party favorite. At least he may not have to wallow in defeat for long. According to some people, the world will be ending today, May 21, 2011. As I write this it is 1:30 pm in Los Angeles, and the world is still here, but the day isn't over yet. Newt may yet be spared the long, painful journey into another exile.

What's happening to Arnold, and whether he'd welcome a remake of the End of Days I am not sure. But if he's trying to revive his movie career, he could do worse. Unless, of course, today is the End of Days, in which case ... he won't be back.

Life, as a Leaking Motorcycle

Those of us who find our fun on motorcycles, riding briskly along twisty roads any given weekend (and every other day we can break free of the grind), can't imagine truly living life without the experience.

This comes as a shock to non-riders, who think we must be anti-social, suicidal, or demented. To them, the image of bikes racing through country curves only elicits images of sudden, gory death. Or maybe, even decades beyond Brando's 'The Wild Ones' and the Angel's Mayhem at Altamont, the image raises fears of beer-bellied, hairy, alcoholics wielding knives and pool cues and pillaging villages. That's not who we riders are, although we perhaps relish the risk-taking, dangerous aura the image grants us from time to time.

Even so, non-riders who dismiss us and our hobby as Huns on Iron Horses are missing other life lessons motorcycling can teach, like persistence and infinite, Zen-like patience. Outside of farming or perhaps being Prince Charles, nothing else teaches those virtues quite as well as caring for your ride.

Take a modern-era Triumph Bonneville for example. Unlike its ancient brethren (up to 1976 or so), this bike doesn't leak fluids as a normal mode of operation. It is thoroughly new millennium in its oil tightness. So when this paragon of petroleum retention begins to ooze the precious stuff out from where it belongs to where it most definitely does not belong, like hot exhaust headers or rear tires, action by the owner must commence forthwith:

You begin by dismounting the smoking machine and walking around it, as if you can stare the problem away. Then you ride it some more in case the problem was a figment of your imagination. (Did I not mention the other life lessons, hopefulness and self-delusion?).

When the smoking inevitably returns you ride home, park the bike, and walk around it some more looking for the leak. When, after an hour or so, you see one single drop of oil on the pavement, you simultaneously rejoice (Aha!) and despair (Oh, No!). Composure recovered, you ride over to your most trusted mechanic and point and whine until he agrees to work on the problem right away (lesson: the art of effective persuasion).

As you wait anxiously at his side, your trusty Wrench decides that tightening all of the case bolts that were loose (even modern Trumpets vibrate a little) will do the trick. After running the engine until it's hot enough to sublimate lead, no leak appears and you are released to run free (after a modest fee). Twenty miles later, and the smoking reappears (double lesson: you get what you pay for, and life's a bitch).

You park the bike in your garage and make plans for further leak detection and redaction, beginning as soon as you can bear to face it, like the next free weekend in June - this being May (lesson: time management).

Meanwhile, you mount your other bike - your sole remaining fully-functional two-wheeled steed, a Ducati, and roar up the canyons, carefree and feeling very Zen, contemplating the delicious irony of such a famously maintenance-intensive Italian being your reliable ride.

And that's the final and best lesson motorcycling, in the form of a leaking Triumph, can teach you: always have a backup.

The Effects of Isolation on Osama bin Laden

Aside from getting shot in the eye and dumped in the ocean, the isolated life chosen by Osama bin Laden had some downsides that were less fatal, but still a bummer.

I say, 'Chosen', but OBL can't be said to have actually picked a life of solitude and reclusion for himself. It was more a life choice imposed by predator drones and snitches out for a 25 mill reward. Then again, he could have opted out of the whole jihad thing and remained a pampered, rich-as-he-wanna-be member of the Saudi semi-royalty and avoided all the fuss. So, 'Chosen' it is.

And those downsides? Man, there seem to have been many. Take a look at that beard he had to maintain. Useful for dodging facial recognition programs in a country full of bearded villains, but it had to be itchy as all get-out.

And those long hours of boredom with only his close confidants and a few wives to keep him company? Hardly entertainment enough for such a roguish blade and rugged outdoorsman. Plus, as a Muslim, he couldn't have a drink or three in compensation. Now that's isolation.

If only OBL had a friendly bar to frequent; his own local 'Cheers' to hang out and swap a few stories, and vent. About how his wives were driving him crazy; Or how he'd like to grab Al Zawahiri by the ears and bang his face in the table a few times to teach him some civility (always best to lead by example). Or how much money Pakistani protection was costing him - he couldn't afford another wife with what those crooks left him each month!

But, No. No Beers, No Cheers

Which must be the reason he turned to porn to take the pain off those lonely hours holed up in the lavish bunker that was his Abottabad Abode. For a guy who otherwise could have afforded to hole up in the penthouse suite at the Burj Khalifa with at least 72 'virgins', the porn and possibility a little Afghan poppy-based refreshment must have seemed a sad, but necessary alternative. Better than eeny-meeny-moeing among the wives for the trillionth time, or watching paint dry.

So when we remember the feared and hated Osama bin Laden, let's try not to remember him as the masturbatory, possibly opium-addled, and surely hen-pecked wreck that got tanked by Flying Seals; let's remember him instead as the Osama that might have been if he'd only avoided that Afghan vacation in 1980: debonair, dashing, degenerate millionaire of the desert; humping his way through all the 'virgins' the white slavery market could provide, but otherwise harming not a fly ... (Nah, the Masturbatory Wreck is the better image; Hollywood's gonna make hay with it for sure)

Bath Time

A hot bath on a cool day can be philosophically dangerous ...

The porcelain, mere inches from the steamy water, was cool to the touch. I dipped cupped hands and splashed my face, then watched my fingers as the warmth left them through the evaporating water.

A thought pushed its way in: that we constantly fight for light and warmth in contrast to the cold and dark. That this contest is what defines us. Warmth is generated, but the generation has limits and is ephemeral. The cold everywhere waits to take the heat away and dilute it; separate it from us.

Can this struggle change our impression of the world? We fear snakes and sharks, and other life we perceive as cold-blooded, more than we fear far deadlier, but warmer creatures like tigers and bears. Perhaps the idea of being lost to cold predators is scarier than the idea of dying itself; as if the act would be doubly cold; more permanently, hopelessly, fatal.

It's true we love the feel of fresh, cold air; brisk inhalations that energize. But that is only with brief exposure, and from a place of secure warmth; offer us nothing but cold air to breath forever and watch us run away. We need fires to look out from, to return to; for their sheltering heat.

Perhaps change is a kind of perceived coldness too. It may be welcome in small, bracing, energizing doses, but feared when it threatens to tear down entirely our shelters from the cold. Add a room extension on a house in midwinter and you can embrace the change, warm in your existing rooms; tear down the house to rebuild everything and you are left exposed.

Familiarity is warmth and security; we tend to accept change only slowly and carefully - unless everything is taken away; unless nothing familiar remains. Then we may embrace the cold. Then change becomes the only thing.

The next time you are in a bath, reach out and touch the porcelain or ceramic or metal near you, and reflect on how the difference between that coolness and the heat of the water mirrors the Change in your life, or your fight against it.

Poetry Break: Mitt's In a Pickle

There once was a politician named Mitt,

Who gave his Party a Fit,

Over Health Care he championed,

And Health Care he opposed ...

"Too Alike" said his fellows;

"No, they are different", said Mitt; dignified; composed.

But none could really tell,

If RomneyCare was or wasn't ObamaCare; To most, a rose was a rose was a rose, thorns included.

Meanwhile, across the aisle, smiles broadened. "Our foes have a dilemma, and on its horns they will be stuck"

"Mitt's in a Pickle, and the rest have no ideas, plans, or pluck"

But Romney rolls on, determined to win;

Good thing we Demos can always remind folks he's Mormon, again ...

Jobs for Everyone

Traveling abroad as I have been recently, combined with reading as many of the news blurbs on jobs and the economy (foreign and domestic) as possible, has given me a new perspective on the Future of Jobs in America.

And it's hopeful ... but with a pretty big 'Gotcha'

The World will need us to Work - there is simply no way as large and capable a workforce as in the US can be idle without hurting the World Economy.

US workers are innovators: whether it's to make our jobs easier, or to make more money, or both, we tend to create new ways to do things rather than repeat the same process over and over. This can increase productivity which means we are valuable.

We Live to Work. Not all of us, thankfully, since that would be boring, but American culture is still immersed in Work-as-Identity-as-Life. This keeps us working all the time - not always efficiently, but all the time, and that can boost productivity, which makes boardroom work metrics presentations look good.

So American Workers will still be needed ...

But here's that Gotcha. Actually there are three:

(1) Our schools may not be capable of producing enough well-rounded, capable people equipped to be flexible in the future workplace. And flexibility will be required.

(2) There may not be enough jobs available for every willing US worker. And worse, there may not be a viable support system for those who want to work, but can't find employment (and yes, I do mean even less viable than we have now ... )

and;

(3) The jobs we do get may be harmonized over a global economy, and may not support our accustomed standard of living. (There are good aspects to this, though. Think about it.)

The Future of Jobs in America is both bright and stark. Bright because there will be a need for us in the Global Economy; stark because there won't be Jobs for Everyone, and the employed will be judged and compensated on a balanced world scale, with all the changes that implies.

Good Luck to Us All

Binned Laden

Monday morning in Bangkok, the English-language version of 'The Nation' shouted the news '...World on Alert', which got my attention immediately. It only took a few moments more for the wheels to crank until I recognized why the World was so alerted - Osama bin Laden had been killed by US forces inside Pakistan. Way inside Pakistan. Killed. And his body dumped at sea. After Muslim funeral rites.

My faculties could barely stand the wave of contradictory emotions and thoughts crashing around in my noggin.

Like most people around the World, I am happy the man is no longer the leader of a deadly terrorist organization. I am also not broken up that he was killed rather than captured. But a part of me is a bit ashamed at our Country for implementing a national policy of assassination. Watching throngs of gleeful celebrators on the news later only added to the uneasiness.

Should we be celebrating anyone's death - even bin Laden's? If his death was necessary, so be it, but why make a Holiday of it? And apart from the questionable morality of the celebration, I am also leery of the precedent this may set for the future. Licensed national hit squads anyone? (OK, I hear some of you whispering this is already the case, but I'm talking overt here, not James Bond stuff). This smacks of cartel behavior, not that of a democratically elected government.

But the deed has been done, and there are many who have good reason to be happy bin Laden is no more. President Obama is happy. This will lift his credibility with the hawks ahead of the election, and more importantly, make him look like he's won something to the general public. (A feeling of 'winning' is definitely lacking in Afghanistan). I'm not too sure George W. Bush is happy; he says he is, but there must be some regret that it didn't happen on his watch. Not that he appeared to try that hard. (The bin Laden family was close with the Bushes, before 9/11 at least)

And now, just as with Saddam Hussein, bin Laden the evil terrorist will fade to vague memory (more so, since he's been hidden for so long already). But the problems of Al Qaeda and terrorism in general will persist.

And we've opened another can of worms too: what to do about our 'ally' Pakistan? Certainly someone in that country harbored bin Laden, right?

I am inclined to forgive on this issue. Pakistan is not a small country, and there are lots of factions with complicated loyalties. America has many partners within this fractious cultural soup, but enemies too. Determining who you can trust with really crucial information is difficult, but so is assigning blame. It appears the Obama administration is trying to strike the appropriate stance by shutting out the Pakistani's before and during the mission, while publicly lauding their assistance over the years with intelligence that made the assault possible. Media scrutiny is turning this stance into more of a high-wire walk over the Grand Canyon, but I admire the administration for trying it.

And we did send bin Laden off with some ceremony: a Muslim funeral at sea. Odd that we'd shoot him dead (unarmed the reports say) yet respect his religious beliefs. The burial at sea, we are told, was needed to honor the muslim requirement that the dead be buried within 24 hours. Honorable, then, what we did.

Convenient too, though, and that self-servingness takes a smidge off the honor. The actions also feed into conspiracy theories; like one that bin Laden is really alive and in custody, renditioned to some godforsaken part of the world like Newark, or Bakersfield. Being forced to listen to Lady Gaga and watch 'Married with Children' reruns until he spills his guts on every connection Al Qaeda has ever had. After all, why would you kill bin Laden when you could force him to betray every terrorist cell in his network?

But never mind any of that, our great nemesis is gone (it appears). Will the national angst return to pre-9/11 levels? Will the eternal orange terrorism alert drop to yellow, or even green? Will regular airport irradiation no longer be necessary?

I surely hope so ...

Bye-Bye bin Laden. Good Riddance to a nasty little human black hole.

Bangkok Dangerous

Borrowing a title from the less successful remake of what (I hear) was a good film may seem desperate, and it is.

I just couldn't come up with anything better to describe this sprawling, vibrant, discordant city.

Bangkok is dangerous, but not for fear of personal harm - at least no more so than Mexico City, or Los Angeles even. This alternate City of Angels is dangerous by the way it changes your view on the World. It's dangerous by virtue of forcing you to experience the gulf between wealth and poverty prevalent in this part of the globe. It's the same gulf that exists in the US and Europe, but it is stealthier in those places. Here in Bangkok it's right upon you and unmissable.

Visiting Bangkok, and more especially if you venture outside the city to other regions of Thailand, you realize how central this land and it's people are to the Asian economy. And we all know by now just how important the Asian economy is to 'western' countries.

But even more than economic impact, Bangkok looks and feels like a cultural nexus; a place where problems will be met and solved, if they are to be solved at all.

And that is why this city is 'dangerous'. If events go wrong here there will be repercussions across the region, and perhaps the World.

Phonely

Since the dawn of the new electronics-as-umbilical age, I have only been SWAP (Stuck Without A Phone) once. I left my mobile phone in my car at the Catalina Express dock in Long Beach and had to spend a weekend in Avalon incommunicado.

Tried to use a pay phone lately? Good Luck finding a working example.

Today my daughter called to tell me she'd left her cell phone in our car when I dropped her off at the airport. She'll be spending the next two days SWAP, and Phonely.

For those of you out there old enough to remember living the 80's as grown-ups (or at least as fully-fledged teenagers), you can appreciate both the despair and the risibility of being Phonely. Our modern model of constant communication provides a reassuring sense of safety and connectedness, so when it fails we feel more acutely alone than we ever would have felt in the 80's pre-cellular World, where disconnection was the norm and as a result not scary.

Just like, as children, we once could spend an entire summer's day playing on our own, or with kids our age, without our parents getting alarmed (until you missed dinner), we once could spend hours a day without even thinking about phones; without feeling compelled to call, or be called.

Now, with mobile phones as the crutch without which we can barely function, the loss of connectivity is as keenly felt as being stranded on a desolate highway with a broken car. More so, since if our car broke we could always use the mobile to call for help.

In a very real sense, life here is emulating art: in our cellular mobile hyper-connected World, we are becoming hive mind Borg, requiring the constant contact of other minds; abhorring the independence of even transient solitude.

And Phoneliness is the result when connectivity fails ...

(So DON'T forget and leave your phone in the car!)

Oh, Mexico

Leaving my hotel, located cheek by jowl to the US Embassy, I jumped in the waiting black SUV and rolled into some of the worst traffic it's possible to experience outside of Moscow, Rome, or Sunset Blvd in Beverly Hills at 5 on a Thursday.

As my driver inched (millimetered?) us along the Place de Reforma and onwards to our ultimate destination, my mind wandered (as it will when it has an hour of forced inactivity to kill): what would it be like to live in this city? How much does one of those nice three-story townhouses in the Palanco cost? What? Too much! What about something cheap in the suburbs? A shack near the waste dump? Renting?

It's not like I'm planning to become an expat in Mexico. After all, the only Spanish I know is what's on the menu at El Torito. It's just I can't help wondering what it's like to live in places I visit.

And the sheer size and importance of Mexico City makes that wondering more intense. After all, what the Cuidad is today, Los Angeles might be tomorrow. Actually, chunks of LA are already like Mexico City, absent the beheaded corpses and interesting architecture.

Strike that next to last comment. There were no headless victims in MC. That carnage is further north, or further south, or somewhere other than the capital. It's hard to imagine anyone getting enough privacy to behead someone in Mexico City.

But the architecture is interesting. Mostly because I couldn't believe any of it was still standing is such an active earthquake zone. There it was, however, either putting the lie to the idea that 17th century building techniques were inefficient, or testifying to the patching power of cheap cement and a little stucco.

But I digress. My driver got me to my destination. I worked - in a tough situation - with some of the nicest people I have ever met, and then I was safely deposited back to my hotel.

And as I slept a sleep that only comes after eating not wisely but too well in Mexico City, I could only dream of a bright and hopeful future for that messy but easy-to-love metropolis.

And to it's inhabitants I wish good water pressure, safe commutes, freedom from corruption and gangs, and an endless supply of Zantac.

Radioactive

When will I stop worrying and learn to love being ... radioactive?

Will listening to The Firm's 1980's hit by that name calm my shattered nerves?

Will cookies with a glass of iodine 131 laced milk?

If you have been tuned into the horror show that is the Fukushima Dia-ichi nuclear plant disaster, you may wonder how I can voice concern from 5000 miles away, given the far more dangerous levels of radiation exposure local to the plant. What we are getting here in California is barely noticeable in comparison, right?

Well, maybe so, but it's not my nuclear plant. Neither I nor any other of the 39 million (or so) Californians, and the millions more in Oregon, Washington, and the rest of Western North American (and Mexico), ever received a single watt of power from that facility. We got none of the good, so getting even a little of the bad is a galling proposition. And I'll bet the folks in Japan who DID receive plenty of benefit from the plant's power production still bristle at the contamination with which they now must contend.

You may well wonder if I've lost my reason, given the news releases claiming how low, low, low the levels in our Milk are. Even the Huffington Post got into the act with their rehash of the no-threat claims.

But I stand by my paranoia. In my totally non-scientific but logical assessment, even a little radiation in a form (e.g., iodine-131) that, when consumed, concentrates in a particular part of the body (thyroid), and sits there for up to 80 days frantically emitting a shower of DNA-shattering energetic particles (which might lead to cancer) is not desirable.

I wouldn't be afraid to take a bath in our contaminated milk, but drink it? No, not regularly anyway; except in coffee, which I like to believe has magical anti-radiation properties (don't disabuse me of this notion, please. I need the caffeine, and I like it with milk).

No, I won't regularly drink tainted milk other than in coffee, or the random amounts that may splash accidentally into my mouth while bathing in it - not until Dia-ichi is safely contained and the radioactive clouds stop drifting our way.

Hurry The Day ...

Poetry Break: Do-Over

The Prez is out to Run Again

In 2012

For Hope and Change

(but we hope not the Mayan world-ending kind of change ...)

We praise his choice but fear it too,

since we are having some trouble with trust.

Will Obama version 2 be continuation and completion,

Do-Over, or Bust?

And if the Tweets, Pokes, Likes, and Viral Vids don't carry the day;

If Mr Obama must go away

We will miss his genial grin and earnest look;

His thoughtful mind; his open (check)book

We will miss his naive belief that change can be willed,

or if not, then bought and later billed

Will Obama version 2 be continuation and completion,

Do-Over, or Bust? (It seems a choice between dirt and dust)

Can Republicans do any better?

Not if they drink Tea at their Party

Are there Democratic competitors who may arise?

No, none visible (yet) to human eyes

So I guess we must hope to see

A Re-Do, Done Completely

Go, Go, Mr Obama, version 2

We may be tired, depressed and more than a bit disappointed, but we'll (probably) still vote for You.

Sad Guitar

I have a friend I see only rarely. But that's not a bad thing, since the friend I'm talking about is a guitar, and I only visit this friend when I am anxious or sad.

I used to have ambitions to play music, but those quickly subsided to using guitar as a form of therapy - some (my wife and many previous roommates) might call it obsessive-compulsive noodling, but it's therapy to me. And when it comes to bringing me out of a funk, my guitar is an effective friend.

I said I've only seen my guitar rarely, and that's true. It's been mostly sitting in a closet, because I've mostly been happy.

It has been used though:

It came out and helped me on 9/11. I strummed it from time to time when GWB's government started some 'war' somewhere; and I held it during thankfully infrequent, if terrible, natural disasters. It also helped when the 'recession' swept away most of my retirement. (I think my fingers, absent the calluses of persistent players, bled on that one.)

But lately I find myself picking it up at least weekly, and not out of some resurgence of juvenile rock dreams. The progress (or lack of same, I guess) with the 'war' in Afghanistan, and now the new 'war' in Libya; the Japanese Quaketsunamimeltdown; and a death in the family.

And there's general anxiety too. I am not sure why I feel it, when there is so much specific to be anxious about, but I am feeling a nonspecific unease that won't let up. Maybe it's a side effect of the failure of Hope - once promised but increasingly unlikely to be delivered by President Obama.

But perhaps not. It might be that I am getting older and not feeling any wiser. Or worse, that I feel there is a decrease in wisdom in the World in general, and there is nothing I can do about it.

Except play my guitar ...

War on War

Now, the politicos and the press aren't calling what we just started in Libya a 'war'. At least not yet.

And it's not a solo effort. It seems we found a couple of allies this time around, both eager to go at it. And we have the 'backing' of 'Arab nations'.

And I do believe He-Who's-Name-Is-Spelled-A-Thousand-Ways is a despot, a tyrant, a dictator, and as many other synonyms for autocratic madman as you can muster. He's also a self-proclaimed sponsor of terror, and a complete nutcase.

But I am stumped at what 'international law' (as claimed by Mrs. Clinton), Mr. Ghaddafi has violated (in the current situation). He's broken a million moral and ethical beliefs, but what law has he violated? Is what he is attempting genocide? What's the test for that?

At what point does a dictator's suppression of internal rebellion become something other countries have to stop? Why do we go and get him now, but not before when he blew up our people over Lockerbee? Why not back when we tried to assassinate him? Why this time and this moment?

I guess the answer is written somewhere in that 'international law', and our strategists must have puzzled through the labyrinthine wording to come to their conclusion.

Or maybe they are just stepping in to keep the oil flowing?

To the Libyans in the middle of all this, the reasons ultimately won't matter. In the end we will either have given them 'freedom', or we will have killed many of them with kindness, much like we have the Iraqis, Afghans, and Pakistanis. They will either end up saying 'Thanks (now please leave)", or "Thanks for nothing (and wait till we come and get you)".

To us (if not our allies), this will come as no surprise. It'll be business as usual. But I fear the broader implications.

I fear we may have entered an ironic phase in the War on Things game. In years past we have declared War on things broad, nebulous, and multi-faceted, like Poverty, Cancer, and Terror. Now we may have declared War on 'War'. What the heck - they fight fire with fire, right? And what did Ghandi know anyway - his act was so 1940's.

I'm not going to lose any sleep worrying over it, what happens happens. And it will be interesting to see who or what replaces the Old Crazy Bedouin. I just wish whoever is really running this world would put a consistent act together.

The History of Punishment: The 1600s

I wonder: in the 1600s, if you were placed in a device (frequently depicted in movies and therein called a 'stock'), that locked your arms and head in place holding you captive for active public abuse and shaming; would that have been called getting 'stocked'?

If so, would a repeat offender be 're-stocked', and was there a re-stocking fee?

The Unbelievable

I see it on television, and I trust what I see is not CGI, nor old footage edited to look current, but real images of a very tangible catastrophe.

But I am having great difficulty believing in what I am seeing.

For reasons I can't fully fathom, I was able to accept the 2004 Indonesian quake and tsunami as fact in a way I can't yet with Japan's horror. The same ease of acceptance was true with Haiti's nightmare. 'Connecting' with the cruel reality of those earlier disasters and empathizing with the victims came quickly, but I am struggling to believe this new one.

Maybe it's that Japan is so connected with my daily life: my wife drives her Toyota; I ride my Kawasaki; we spool up the Sony Blu-Ray for entertainment. Perhaps I'll strum my made-in-Japan Fender Telecaster, or dust off the Yamaha upright that's been lonely since the kids abandoned their lessons.

Maybe I'll tune in to the motorcycle races to see if Suzuki has anything competitive this year. Or perhaps I'll look again at the Japanese art my wife's cousin creates so well after years of study in Japan.

Japan and things Japanese permeate our lives. We are They, and They are Us. A culture apart yet entwined irrevocably. Their disaster is ours in a way that feels surreal.

But perhaps when I can bear to examine it closely, I'll find the reason I fear to absorb this reality is that I don't want to feel the anguish of empathy. What has happened in Japan is so real I want it not to be real. How else could I pull up behind a Honda in traffic and not cry?

Practicing Democracy

All learned skills need regular practice to maintain. Skills we've never truly learned require a lot more.

In California's recent election, only 12% of the registered 'voters' practiced voting, which may make them rusty for the next opportunity - one they might deem more interesting.

Up in Wisconsin, the Governor is practicing his particular form of democracy, where anything goes if it leads to winning. And the Wisconsonian Democrats played their hand by leaving the table and getting locked outside when they needed to be inside. Despite their bureaucratic waltz, neither team seemed very practiced at real democracy, and their ineptitude will cause great grief for Wisconsonites.

And elsewhere, a committee has formed to investigate the radicalization of American muslims. The leader of this team says this investigation is critical to the safety of Americans, but has any Congressional committee ever accomplished anything of value, aside from being a showcase for pet and very polarizing political views? Or as a launchpad for a political career?

All of this is just to hopefully make clear we need more (and better) practice in exercising the responsibilities of citizenship. It's needed at every level, but it starts with the polling place, and that means Us.

Sorry, Charlie

Sometimes it's hard to understand our favorite celebrities' behavior. Especially when there seems to be a big chunk of ingratitude flavoring it.

[Celebrity Ingrates - coming soon from TLC ?]

And it is challenging for us work-a-day folks to fathom why someone like Charlie Sheen would rock the golden canoe so long and hard.

But then, humans are capable of seeing injustice aimed at them in just about any situation. We are almost as good at that as aiming injustice.

Basically, in life but particularly show business life, being screwed is in the eye of the screwee.

In the strange case of Charlie Sheen versus Chuck Lorre and the powers-that-be at CBS, Mr Sheen definitely feels screwed. But I imagine that Mr. Lorre feels a bit used as well. What the higher-ups at the network feel I don't know, but I'll wager it's less like feeling ill-used, and more like confusion between gratitude for publicity and concern over that same publicity.

Those of us who have lived our lives glued to one TV set or another, in a real-life version of 'Dream On', know or can sense that these sorts of dust-ups between stars and producers may be a put-on. Then again, we've seen them be quite real.

If this very public conflict is real, then I must say that Charlie Sheen is wrong - sorrowfully, miserably wrong.

Chuck Lorre's mild zings at Mr. Sheen in his 'vanity cards' are funny, but not mean. They play to the irony of Sheen's real life behavior mirroring (and outdoing) the bad behavior of his character in Two and a Half Men - Charlie Harper. As for Charlie saying he's turned Lorre's work into Gold solely on his own efforts, well, he's forgetting that Jon Cryer is the funny one - the Lewis to Sheen's Martin, and without that dynamic the show would be lessened. The other members of the long-time supporting cast are important too.

It's an ensemble effort, Charlie, not a star turn. The show would not have succeeded without you, true, but it wouldn't have without Cryer (at least) either.

And try not to forget that Chuck Lorre made it all possible. The show is his creation. He gave you a career-saving opportunity, and until now you've made the most of it.

Now, it may be your problems with addiction(s) that are fueling your recent behavior, and if so I hope you find the help you need before your career completely tanks. After all, you can't count on repeating Robert Downey Jr's return from the abyss.

The Mouse That Stuttered

Two blind mice and one that stuttered

Chased around the kitchen by an old lady with a carving knife

The stutterer saw the danger, but couldn't squeak out an intelligible warning to his blind companions

Two missing tails and a broken trio later, and what might we know:

Only that,

In a World of Angry Farmer's Wives with sharp knives, It's better to be a stuttering mouse than a blind one,

- and -

If you are a blind criminal mouse, don't choose a stutterer as your lookout ...

Well, OK, but what would a stuttering mouse sound like?

That happens to be a principal problem for researchers who have bred mice to stutter, according to an article in The Economist ('Speech Therapy', Jan 26, 2011).

It seems that scientists have discovered what they presume to be a genetic basis for stuttering. To test that theory, they have spliced the suspect gene into mouse DNA. Trouble is, no one knows what a stuttering mouse sounds like. The researchers, though, are sure they can use modern speech recognition software to work out the problem.

If so, there will be new hope for murine stutterers everywhere (and the blind mice who befriend them). Oh, and people who stutter may find some relief too.

No Bubbles

This evening, in a fated-to-fail attempt at rescuing a botched birthday celebration, I picked up take-out food at a local eatery, a favorite of the disappointed celebree.

It just happens the restaurant lies in the same mini-mall as does a forlorn reminder of my financial gullibility. In particular an empty SCUBA dive shop, with PADI signs still in the windows.

This shop was once the pride and joy of the now former husband of a family friend. A realization of his dream. My wife and I were moved to help by providing an early investment, a seed as it were from which the business flowered.

Our friend ran his Dive Shop for nearly four years, with ups and downs, but always with one happy idea in mind- to teach as many people as he could to 'blow bubbles' with the fishes and enjoy a small piece of the 70% of mother earth we landlocked beings never see. I joined in the spirit and learned to Dive, and spent many happy hours reliving a childhood dream of being Mike Nelson in 'Sea Hunt', only without the sparring with undersea villains complication. But nothing that good lasts unchanged forever.

For several reasons, but not least the burst economic Bubble of 2008, the shop died a sudden death, leaving a hole in the tight-knit dive community, scattering the shop's own clan of divers, and ending a marriage.

The Dive Shop has remained empty since July of 2008, even located as it is on a busy section of a major thoroughfare. The two shops on either side of it are now empty too.

I still 'blow bubbles' but not nearly as often, and from what I've heard, the former owner of the shop, a serious, professional diver, hasn't been under much either. But that's the way of disappointments, they can sour things for you if you let them. And it's hard not to let them.

I imagine right now in America there are quite a few people nursing disappointments. Not all of them will have a painful reminder like an empty shop, although some might have worse. I hope not.

And I hope anyone who is disappointed on their birthday has a better time next year.

Driving Past Money

In a world where not enough of us have enough money enough of the time, I get to drive by vast quantities of it every day.

You see, my commute takes me through Beverly Hills, twice a day. And if there is anything in Beverly Hills aside from a palpable sense of self-satisfaction, there is money. Which may explain the satisfaction.

Houses? Beverly Hills sports some truly fine houses. Actually, they aren't houses, they're HOUSES. A modest dwelling in BH represents a died-and-gone-to-heaven dream home for the rest of humanity. (Except those hobbit-cottage things - those are Mordorian nightmares)

Cars? Try Maseratis. And I always seem to be stuck in traffic behind one AMG Mercedes or another. Simply put, I've been cut off in traffic by vehicles worth more than my house (at least more than what it's worth now).

I'd add that Beverly Hillians deck themselves out in expensive finery, but I haven't seen many of them - outside their cars anyway. I assume there are nicely dressed people inside those HOUSES, but all I've ever seen are a few joggers (who may have jogged in from less toney Los Angeles proper) and yard trimmers who I am almost certain don't live there.

Now, before you draw the wrong conclusion, let me say that I truly admire the residents of Beverly Hills. Their streets are perfectly paved and uncannily clean. Their yards are beautifully trimmed. At least a few of them (presumably) stay in decent shape by jogging, and they drive really nice cars.

But I am having a psychic struggle viewing all that stuff every day. Especially viewing it while listening to public radio descriptions of wars, poverty, and general unhappiness. It would probably be best if I lessened my BH exposure.

Too bad then, the shortcut through the residential part of BH is a must. I'd rather slit my wrists than struggle down Santa Monica Blvd in the morning rush ...

Rubic's Pyramid

The crowds in the square were calling for democracy. Their leaders said they weren't ready for democracy. The crowds weren't moved by that argument, but their leaders were largely immovable too.

Now the military is in control.

Not really much different than before, only Hosni is on permanent vacation at his Red Sea resort of last resort.

And the rest of the World is waiting to see what shakes out. Will the 'new' Egypt turn against the status quo with respect to Israel? If so, will the end result be worse, or better, than the current stalemate? It's been a long time since 1967 and people can't remain refugees forever. Or can they?

Change in political systems wields the sharpest of two-edged swords. Cuts may come from unexpected directions. And democracy is a very sharp yet particularly unwieldy weapon.

Do those crowds in Cairo and Alexandria really know what they are asking for? Do they believe proclaiming democracy will immediately result in blissful freedom and lots of cash for everyone? These things may one day come from democracy but only through the successful running of an obstacle course many may be loath to run.

But all that is easy to say, living in a country where that obstacle course was run for us generations ago. Watching it happen, or try to happen, in the here and now and in a land never ruled for long by anything other than autocracy, will be something special to see.

With collective fingers figuratively crossed we all must observe the process and observe the prime directive. Let's avoid butting in if at all possible - forgetting for a moment that our military is closely 'advising' Egypt's, let's try not to impose outside wishes and let the Egyptians do what's best for Egyptians.

If they can run that course...