Sunday, March 13, 2011

past tense

she was young and beautiful and buxom.

i had no trouble believing she was once a playboy centerfold.

that was the rumor, see, about my seventh grade teacher. i had no idea if it was true--there was no internet, no viral video, no google image search. there was only adolescent imagination.

and, you know, woof.

in today's digital, new media, 24/7 world, however, proof of the past is never more than a few clicks away. every indiscretion is catalogued for future reference. on the Web or in it? there's no escaping, denying, or justifying.

this is true whether you're a pitching prospect with a rape problem, an amusive gop president-wannabe, or a teacher who once starred in porn films.

of the three, whom do you suppose was flash-fried by the spotlight?

background:

josh lueke, a minor league pitcher with major league potential, was charged with a couple disturbing crimes in 2008. a plea bargain and felony probation later, he was acquired via trade by the seattle mariners. despite the fact that the case was all over the internet, the mariners insisted they knew nothing of it.

newt gingrich famously cheated on two wives on his way to a third. he pressured one to sign divorce papers while she was in the hospital recovering from cancer surgery. these facts are important only because gingrich reportedly is on the cusp of a run for president.

then there's tera myers. sixteen years ago, a homeless mother of two, myers featured prominently in film productions of ill repute. she starred in some porn flicks. dissatisfied with the direction of her career, she joined the army, and eventually was honorably discharged. she went to school on the GI bill, and became a teacher. for awhile.

current events:

lueke is on his way to the seattle mariners. his invaluable ability to throw a ball fast apparently has spared him significant consequences, putting him in position for a big league payoff.

in a recent interview with the christian broadcast network, gingrich blamed in part "his passion for america" for "things that happened" in his life that "were not appropriate." despite being a toxic drip in america's bloodstream for many years, newt has become fabulously wealthy feeding on media exposure like a black hole sucks up light.

tera myers currently is out of a job. yes, what she did was totally legal, and sure she was homeless and trying to support herself and two children, but still...it was porn! she should never be able to join the military, go to school, get a degree, and get a job doing something other than porn, ever. i mean, obviously.

the takeaway:

always in america, follow the money.

sometimes an athlete with the potential to sell tickets and help win games for a major sports franchise can commit ugly crimes and not do the time.

sometimes low-quality people become wealthy celebrity politicians, thriving on the low-quality goals of their benefactors.

and always, always...low-paid porn stars and low-paid teachers are equally likely to get screwed.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

one ticket to paradise

the missus is going to hawaii.

without me.

hypothetically, if one of us is obliged to travel someplace fabulous on business, the other should be able to tag along without breaking the bank.

the hotel, after all, is paid for. as is one airfare.

business dinners dramatically reduce the cost of meals, so all that's left to cover is round-trip airfare for one.

well, that and the cost of leaving the children behind.

they're too young to stay home alone, and too high-maintenance to pawn off on neighbors. flying the grandparents in for a few days adds significantly to the bottom line. and we haven't yet mentioned the current cost of flights to hawaii, which is enough to make your ears bleed.

bla bla bla. i'm not going.

instead, i'm considering this great alternative, which is totally within the budget.

so, make it one ticket to paradise, please, and three tickets to tornado alley...

Saturday, March 05, 2011

give 'til it hurts


cut them to the bone. then keep on cutting.

it's nice, isn't it, that so many americans are sacrificing in these difficult times? what's not so nice is that the people doing the sacrificing are the ones who can afford it least.

here's a fun story that poses the not-rhetorical question, "have washington public employees given enough?"

the premise being, if you work for the state of washington you owe it to everyone to work for free. if you object, you're an overpaid union thug who's unfit to work for the state.

Since the recession hit, the Legislature has suspended cost-of-living increases for state workers. In addition, more than a third of state workers in the past year took unpaid days off. The number of furlough days varied by agency and job, but some workers have taken at least seven unpaid days since last year, with more coming.

(Gov.) Gregoire has proposed an additional 3 percent cut in pay through unpaid time off during the next two years...
teachers? you expect to be paid? isn't the privilege of teaching our children reward enough?

please note that the vast majority of state workers make between $30,000 and $60,000 a year. so by definition, they are not driving expensive cars, taking fabulous vacations, or living in posh neighborhoods.

rather, they are barely getting by. they live paycheck to paycheck. and they are one financial setback away from ruin.

but that instability is not enough for some.

State Sen. Joe Zarelli, R-Ridgefield, Clark County, argues even more needs to be done to reduce state worker costs, either by lowering wages and benefits, or cutting the size of the general government work force.

State Sen. Rodney Tom, D-Bellevue, agrees. "We can't have a world where public employees are the haves and the taxpayers are the have-nots," Tom said.
interestingly, tom's "haves and have-nots" phrase is identical to the language used by wisconsin governor scott walker during a dec. 7 press conference. walker is currently engaged in ambitious plan to break wisconsin's public employee unions, eviscerate its public schools, return women's health standards to the middle ages, and beat on baby animals with rusty-nail two-by-fours.

he's not a quality individual.

zarelli, it should be noted, introduced a strangely wisconsin-esque bill to gut collective bargaining for washington public employees. his bill was killed, eliciting howls of rage from hell.

like wooden dummies, walker, zarelli and toms are reciting the exact same lines--and it begs the question: who's yanking their strings/giving them their talking-orders? and how much have they been paid to be so pliable?

additional point of order: in what world does $30-60K make you one of the "haves"? and just for the the sake of discussion, aren't public employees taxpayers as well? if so, this would make them haves and have-nots simultaneously, creating a vacuum that nature abhors--almost as much as it hates legislators who hate government.

and really, isn't this where the corporatist, antigovernment rat-hole leads? "public employees cost too much. we should eliminate their pensions! we should bust their unions! we should privatize public services and give sweetheart contracts to our donor-cronies!"

thanks, corporatist antigovernment rats.

have you noticed? right-wingers no longer wrap themselves in christianity and family values. which is a good thing, strategically, because good luck selling any of that jesus stuff now.

in the revised gospel of right wing america, we disdain the poor and the sick and the children. sacrifices must be made. and the cutting will begin on the least among us.

* * * * *

update: the divide as observed by jon stewart...

Sunday, February 27, 2011

mediterranean err


it was all going to be so perfect.

at the confluence of a milestone birthday and a milestone wedding anniversary, the missus and i were gonna fly, sans children, for a fabulous two-week holiday in spain and france.

or spain and italy. or france and italy. or, really, any one of the countries mentioned above. details were still sketchy, but the plan was mutually and enthusiastically endorsed.

the idea was to get away, just us, to someplace we've never been. someplace steeped in history. rich in culture. marinaded in exquisite local wine.

and just for fun, since we were going to be there anyway, we thought we might look around a bit and find ourselves a new forever home. one promising a more reasonable cost of living. a more civilized work-life balance. warmer temperatures. and maybe a water view.

inside of two weeks we were going to find the one spot on earth that offered all of those things (actually, we would've settled for one or two), fetch the children and the dogs, and never look back.

i mean, how hard could that be?

then the middle east happened (thanks hosni! thanks muammar!), and the price of jet fuel went exactly the way you'd expect. not coincidently, airfares to fabulous mediterranean destinations went the same way. and suddenly, for the price of two tickets to barcelona or marseille or rome, we could drive the whole family to yakima a couple dozen times at least.

important geographic note: yakima isn't anywhere near spain. or france. or italy. and while we have nothing but respect for the town and the entire yakima viticultural region, we did not envision it as our milestone celebration destination.

already we're talking about postponing our trip until late summer or fall, betting that the price of petroleum products will decline heading into winter. it's a sucker's bet, we realize, but it's the only one we have at the moment.

in the meantime there's a small but finite possibility that the missus will be required to travel for business in april to...wait for it...hawaii.

we're equally foolish to bet on that one, but it's important in this life to have something to hope for.

it was all going to be so perfect. the grandparents were going to spend quality time with the children and the dogs, costs were going to be manageable, and everyone was going to live happily ever after.

then, poof. time for plan b.

which is to say...there's always yakima.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

holy hannah

billy ray is bummed.

his life has gone south, literally and figuratively, and he's not certain why.

but he's pretty sure the devil is involved.

Billy Ray Cyrus says the Disney TV show "Hannah Montana" destroyed his family, causing his divorce and sending daughter Miley Cyrus spinning out of control.

He said the Cyruses and their six children were all baptized before leaving Tennessee for Los Angeles to inure themselves against evil and he believes Satan is attacking his family.


the devil, presumably, wasn't involved when little miley was riding the wave of disney stardom, raking in cash for the cyrus family. or, you know, maybe he was.

because, really, who could've predicted that a few years of celebrity, money, and uncritical adulation would adversely impact a young girl and her family in ways not akin to sunshine and bubble gum?

no, this outcome was not about bad choices and questionable parenting. heavens, no. this is a clear-cut case of bedevilry.

"It's the way it is," Cyrus said. "There has always been a battle between good and evil. Always will be. You think, 'This is a chance to make family entertainment, bring families together...' and look what it's turned into."

family entertainment. didja ever watch the show, billy ray? i mean, you must have...you were in it. remember? you played the clueless father of the disneyfied princess, who played dear old dad like a mystified chump. her character was full of adorably mouthy sarcasm and yours was full of mumbly bumbling.

hanna montana is part of a disney roster that portrays kids as worldly-wise and adults as dolts. not coincidently, the sassitude demonstrated by today's disney kids is imitated with charming precision by kid-viewers (or maybe that's just at our house).

is this the kind of "bringing families together" family entertainment you were referring to, billy ray? was the devil responsible for that expression of family values, or did you maybe just need some different writers?

but no, that might've turned off the fans, not to mention the money machine. and no one wanted that. surely a divorce and an out-of-control-spinning daughter is a small price to pay to feed the hype.

billy ray's gq interview reads like he's still the dumbfounded dad. he doesn't know how it all went wrong, only that it did and that it's his fault. or the devil's fault. or some combination thereof.

random metaphysical question: if the family's troubles were, in fact, the devil's handiwork, isn't billy ray off the hook?

since we're looking askance at disneyfied pop culture, we'd be naive indeed not to consider the possibility that the gq interview, and the attention it's generating, is well-planned. that billy ray's parenting philosophy includes the timeless classic, "any publicity is better than no publicity."

in which case we'd have to conclude that in the battle of good and evil, miley's dad has met the enemy...and it's wearing a mullet.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

business travel is glam, v.2

she's back.

after a week of glamorous business travel, retrieving the missus from the airport felt like picking her up from a hospital. jet-lagged, sleep-deprived, bleary-eyed, she seemed fragile as a fabergé egg.

earlier in the week she reported that her hotel in fabulous reading, berkshire, UK resembled a low-end days inn. twin beds, one of which sagged pitifully in the middle, and a restaurant whose most popular item was cheese and butter sandwiches on white bread.

twenty-some hours on airplanes crossing 16 time zones, all in the cause of catering to some auditors whose job it is to audit things. the very idea is teeth-numbingly eye-blinkingly farcical.

but let's not take our eye off the ball, shall we? the important thing is she's home, she's well, and she's resting comfortably. and all she missed while mollycoddling auditors was a couple of gymnastics practices, a couple swim team practices, several jaunts back and forth to schools, a ski club trip, dogs digging up landscaping, several decent meals lovingly prepared by her devoted husband, and three hours in the ballard swedish emergency department.

we thought the girl might've had a case of acute appendicitis, see, but it turned out to be, um, not-appendicitis. still, the excitement was palpable.

anyhoo, she's home. and swearing there will be no more trips this week. so we've got that going for us.

business travel. it's fandamnglamorous.

Friday, February 04, 2011

going, going...not gone! yet.


"Extinct" Salmon Discovered in Japanese Lake
A Japanese salmon thought to have been extinct for 70 years has been discovered in a lake near Mount Fuji.


Last uncontacted tribes in the world discovered in Amazon jungle
An undisturbed civilization has been discovered on the Peru-Brazil border. BBC film shows gardens, homes, and people covered in red body paint.


Mad bovine refuses to go quietly
A cow that escaped a slaughterhouse, swam across the Missouri River, and was sent to a failing Montana animal sanctuary has lived to low another day.


you might think not-extinct japanese salmon, lost amazon civilizations and an indestructible cow would have nothing in common.

and on most days you'd be right. but today, if you scrunch up your brain in a certain way, you might discern at least one silvery thread tying them together: they all should be very afraid that "civilized" humans will kill them.

if you read the links, you see that the japanese government is "drawing up plans" to preserve the rediscovered salmon. that the peruvian and brazilian governments are taking steps to protect the lost tribes. that animal welfare groups are stumbling toward some sort of arrangement for the determined cow.

and a flickering moment of hope might light on your soul like a butterfly, causing you to smile ever so slightly as its wings tickle your karma.

if you want to keep that smile and that soul and that hope, you'll want to cease any further thought about these little stories. right about now...

the japanese, of course, are famous for killing things that should be protected. whales, anyone? despite worldwide condemnation, japanese ships continue to slaughter whales "for scientific purposes." and you know how the japanese enjoy their sushi, the more exotic and endangered, the better.

brazilians and peruvians are unlikely to sacrifice potential profits when there's a tree that can be chopped down or a strip mine that might be slashed. they're remarkably like americans, in that regard. plus, anyone peaceably wandering around a garden wearing little more than body paint should expect to be forcibly converted to christianity any moment now.

and the cow? there are entire industries dedicated to slaughtering animals in this country, not to mention the millions of pets euthanized every year because we can't be bothered to care for them, and let's not forget to forget the countless homeless people we ignore as if they were odd, unattractive furniture dumped on the side of every road.

see what happens when you read between the lines? it's no fun at all! better that we enjoy the rainbows and faeries and unicorns, then look away quick before the happy ending goes all simon cowell on us.

* * * * *

the japanese salmon were, in fact, saved. their numbers increased until a stable population was established, and biological diversity was maintained. then mount fuji erupted.

the lost amazon tribe stayed sequestered from the aggressive intrusion of logging and strip mining. they continued to live in peace until one of the tribe found an ipod left behind by an anthropologist.

the cow was shipped to india, where it wandered freely amongst adoring crowds for many years. it died after drinking from the ganges river.

Wednesday, February 02, 2011

the glamorous glamour of business travel


the missus is going traveling again.

and again. and again.

it's the latest development in drug development, and isn't it fabulous?

hint: no, it is not.

this time it's a week in the UK, a splendid place in winter, if you don't mind hideous weather and the travel alert to u.s. citizens reminding them of the high level of terrorist threat, including the potential for attacks on public transportation systems, aviation, and other travel infrastructure.

in a strange confluence of coincidence and irony, transportation systems and travel infrastructure are the very instruments required for business travel. so as if the jet lag and wrong-sided driving and meetings and tea carts weren't annoying enough, the missus is advised to maintain a high state of vigilance and security awareness regardless of her jet-laggedness.

also, she's flying coach. because that's company policy and, really, who needs to be rested and coherent on a trip that's so important it requires one's presence on the other side of the globe? no, better that the indispensable executive be exhausted, dehydrated, sneezed-on and borderline deep-vein thrombosed.

there's an eight-hour difference between seattle and london. if conventional wisdom is correct, getting a body recalibrated to local time takes a day per hour. which means her body clock will be upside-down the entire time she's there. and on her return she will feel normal again just in time to get on another plane.

business travel to fabulous ports of call.

is it not fabulous?

hint: see above.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

zen and the art of howling

an elderly cherokee man was teaching his grandchildren about life.

he said to them, "a fight is going on inside me. it is a terrible fight between two wolves.

“one wolf is evil — he is fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, competition, superiority and ego.

“the other wolf is good — he is joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.

“this same fight is going on inside you, too. inside all of us."

the children thought about it for a minute, then one of them asked, "which wolf will win?"

the old man replied: "the one you feed."


* * * * *

i stumbled across this little parable at stumbleupon.com (which you should check out, if you haven't already). hard to say if it's actual cherokee philosophy, but it works whether it's cherokee, hindu, buddhist or pee wee hermanist.

if you follow the path a little further, you realize there's a 66% chance that the evil wolf prevails. whether it's at work, at home, or at the security queue at the airport, you feed the negative, it does an invasive full body probe of your psyche.

feed (or neglect) them both equally, the wolves tear each other (and you) apart.

which makes option three -- the care and feeding of the positive -- a biological imperative. not coincidently, it's also the most difficult to sustain. because, really, who hasn't had the overwhelming impulse to snarl at the corporate state, howl at the oil industry, or lift a leg in the general direction of the nearest republican?

but if you shut off the electronic noise, close your eyes, and embrace the silence... that's when it happens. that's when you differentiate between the ravenous howls and decide which to feed.

safety tip: the one that howls the loudest in your ear is probably the one that wants to consume you, as well.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

walmart cares...but not about you.

walmart wants you to know, it cares.

it wants you to believe it cares about you, dear customer, and your family and your high cholesterol and the cardiovascular disease steadily, stealthily wrapping its cold fingers around your heart.

important note: walmart doesn't care about any of those things. what it cares about is that you keep buying the cheap, sweatshop-made, environmentally rapacious products that pump up its bottom line.

"Walmart is getting on Michelle Obama's bandwagon, announcing Thursday that it will start selling healthier foods.

"The four-year plan, which company officials announced in Washington with the First Lady, includes reducing salt and sugar as well as eliminating trans fats in packaged foods. Officials for the world's largest retail chain also plan to cut the prices of fresh fruits and vegetables — and will build stores in low-income neighborhoods where consumers have few choices to buy food beyond gas stations and convenience stores."


according to a 1994 article in the american journal of public health, trans fats cause 30,000 deaths a year from heart disease. and we've known since 1988 that trans fats are correlated with a "...large increase in coronary artery disease."

meanwhile, according to the la times, "Walmart has more than 140 million customer visits each week." which means over the years the company that cares has pumped its toxic products into billions and billions of its customers' arteries.

"In outlining the changes, officials said they plan to reformulate thousands of packaged foods by 2015. Their goals include reducing sodium by 25 percent and added sugars by 10 percent, and removing all remaining industrially produced trans fats and partially hydrogenated oils."

the information that trans fats kill people has been around for a generation. why did walmart wait so long to care about its customers, one might reasonably ask. is it because they just recently heard the trans fat news, or is it something else? tsk, silly questions!

what's most likely is that the friendly, caring, concerned walmart team recently decided they could make a different kind of killing by tinkering with their product mix, with the expectation of reaping ridiculous profits whilst still ridding the country of its small businesses. and if their little experiment doesn’t meet ROI expectations, it can die, quick and quiet. genius!

"In Washington, consumer advocates praised the news. 'I applaud Walmart for using its marketplace muscle to move the food industry in a healthier direction,' said Michael Jacobsen, president of the Center for Science in the Public Interest.

"'This announcement will virtually eliminate artificial trans fat in packaged foods and help spur food manufacturers to cut the sodium in their products over the next several years,' he added. 'Those two moves by Walmart ultimately should save thousands of lives each year that might otherwise be lost to heart disease or stroke.'"


excuse me, michael, but isn't this a bit like praising the gila monster in the chicken coop for passing up the high-cholesterol eggs?

sure the chickens are all dead, but the risk of heart disease is greatly reduced. yay, gila monster!

and by the way, michael, doesn't walmart sell cigarettes and other tobacco products? yes, yes it does. and isn't it true that cigarettes kill 400,000 americans every year? yes, yes it is. just sayin', mister walmart cheerleader.

the funny thing is, even if walmart makes available every manner of lowfat, low sodium, high omega-3 option and alternative, many of the store's clientele will take one look at the healthful array and say, "uh, no. none of that organic stuff for me and my family. that's for elitists and socialists and french-speakers. we like head cheese. pork rinds. gahddam beef byproducts! that's what's for dinner at our house!"

butbutbut...isn't it a good thing that walmart is offering healthier products, no matter how cynical and self-serving its motivations might be? sort of. if manufacturers can be pummeled into incremental product improvements by the threat of walmart's economic hammer, great. if, as a result, millions of walmart customers improve their unhealthy diets the tiniest bit, better still.

but if it's just another way for the company that doesn't really care to increase its clout--enabling it to continue its ravening, unethical, inhumane business practices--that's not so good.

clever PR campaigns and facile solutions to real problems are no reason to get all warm and snuggly with the corporate lizard.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Monday, January 17, 2011

the gospel of st. hochuli


"religion is the opiate of the masses." ~vladimir lenin

"the beatles are bigger than jesus christ." ~john lennon

"i'll take the seahawks plus 10 1/2 against the bears." ~jesus christ

america is suffering a crisis of faith.

we have no faith in our nominal leaders. no agreement on what defines "american values." we have little job stability and an escalating prospect we might never be able to retire.

so at a time when we trust so little and yearn for so much, what's left to believe in?

are you ready for some football?!?

in a perfect marriage between america's true religion and its other religion, some churches are combining the two in a holy communion of divine home-teamerism.

and really, in today's america, it makes perfect sense--church attendance is down, football attendance is down. so, you know, why not try an ecumenical hail-mary? "go jesus! go seahawks!"

check out the big screens at eastlake community church in the 'burbs of seattle. that is one inspirational place to watch football, isn't it? you have to think jesus would totally dig exalting his favorite team amongst the flock in a holy place like that. of course, whichever team that might be, they'd have a pretty decisive home field advantage.

losing locker room: "we were in this game all the way, but when jesus is on the side of the other team, you really have no margin for error."

winning locker room: "we made some mistakes early, and let them hang around too long, but we knew jesus was on our side, and we'd pull it out in the end."

what if he could've watched the christians versus the lions or the bears or the heavily favored romans on an array of 3D big screens! it's not hard to imagine the profound effect on sunday services.

"please power your kindalls to the book of matthew ryan, where we read 'if god so clothes the grass of the field, which today exists, and tomorrow is cast into the oven against the phoenix cardinals, shall he not much more clothe you with air conditioning, o you of little faith?' the answer, after this message from budweiser, the official beer of the nfl. remember, what would jesus drink? budweiser, the king of beers!"

do you know how many fans can congregate at eastlake? i don't either, but from the looks of things, it's more than a couple dozen. which helps explain how they can afford that kind of video technology for spreading the good word and watching slo-mo instant replays.

the ecc website says they are a "...somewhat disorganized church started by nine friends in 2005." don't you wish your church-home theater was that disorganized?

while were at it, can't you just see dr. martin luther king standing beneath some huge plasma screens, leading the cheers for the the atlanta falcons? now that americans have so completely embraced his messages of peace, justice, nonviolence, and league-wide parity, he'd probably have nothing better to do than get all geared up in a "vick" jersey and say a few words about the parallels between the gospel and the road to the super bowl.

if you follow the money, and believe in brand loyalty, you can totally see where this is heading. churches with the best viewer experience and the most spiritually enlightened cheerleaders will have the best shot at the blue-chip parishioners. by definition, they'll have the highest percentage rate in passing the collection plate. and their canonical defense will make the red zone a place no one wants to go, if you follow the metaphysical metaphor.

all that's missing is the theme song...

i got to get ready, make everything right,
'cause all my rowdy friends are coming over tonight.

do you want a drink,
hey do you want to party.
hey honey this is ole hank
ready to get the thing started

we cooked the pig in the ground, got some beer on ice
and all my rowdy friends are coming over tonight

are you ready for some churchball?!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

small talk

"she was a gymnast, you know."

"who?"

"the girl in arizona. the one who was killed."

"yes, she was."

"she was nine years old, and a third-grader. she was the same level gymnast as me."

"i see."

"i saw her picture. she was pretty."

"yes, she was."

"she did ballet and played baseball and swam."

"yes, babe. she did."

"why did that man have to shoot her?"

[pause]

"daddy?"

"yeah, babe..."

"why did he have to shoot her?"

"i don't know...[sigh]...he's mentally ill."

"what does that mean?"

"it means...[sigh]...it means there's something wrong with his brain."

[pause]

"grandpa don lives in arizona."

"yeah, he does."

"is he gonna be okay?"

"yes, he'll be fine."

"how do you know?"

"these things don't happen very often. the chances of it happening to him are really small."

"does it happen here?"

"not very often."

"she was a lot like me."

"i know, baby. i know."


Sent from my iPad

Saturday, January 08, 2011

shut up! no, you shut up!

it says here that you're a rude mother%@#&)*.

but it's not your fault. you have brain damage.

according to doug fields, phd., "A disrespectful, stressful social environment is a neurotoxin for the brain and psyche, and the scars are permanent. [The impairment] is associated with increased risk of craving, drug abuse and dependence, and a weakened ability to make moral judgments."

this explains so much.

it explains, for example, republicans. if we're being honest here (and we are), we have to agree that the gop is the party of rude mother%@#&)*s everywhere.

they're egregeously uncouth on so many fronts it's hard to sort them all, but for starters, republicans are painfully ill-mannered toward the u.s. constitution, the poor, the sick, the homeless, the environment, endangered wildlife, the economy, brown people, and countries with imaginary WMDs.

on the other hand, republicans are exceedingly polite to the wealthiest 1% of americans, wealthy wingnut media celebrities, and wealthy transnational corporations. so, go figure.

but look, it's obviously not their fault. at some point their brains must've been filled with noxious socio-environmental neurotoxins, which they can't help but pass along, generation to generation. these are sad, destructive, cringe-worthy family values, but they're family values nonetheless, n'est-ce pas?

to be fair, one needn't be a republican to be a rude mother$%#&!*. consider the many homes around the country, wrongly foreclosed on and siezed by predatory banks, forcing families into the street. and how about the man in pittsburgh whose home was mistakenly demolished by the the city while he was at work? that's some rude sh*t, isn't it?

more? mel gibson. jesse james. charlie sheen. john edwards/reille hunter. lyndsay lohan. ann coulter. sarah palin. tiger woods. all are hilarious, outrageous boors (though you could make the case that they're just barbarians).

again, not their fault. we have to assume they were raised by vampires or reality tv producers or potted poison ivy.

dr. doug, redux: "Studies have shown that children exposed to serious psychological trauma during childhood are at risk of suffering increased psychiatric disorders, including depression, anger, hostility, drug abuse, suicidal ideation, loneliness and even psychosis as adults."

that's us! is not america chock-full of people just like that? oh my, yes. which means we're constantly cultivating even more deeply disturbed people, then sending them out into the world to create more stress, more neurotoxins, and more rude mother%@#&)*s.

eventually we will be overrun with rude zombies who exist in a spiritual semidarkness that never lifts, snarling their way through each day, then scuffling home at night to sit in their home theaters of rudeness, refueling in preparation for more of the same the next day.

it is a disturbing prospect, certainly, one that must be countered with large quantities of great art, great sex and great wine. there are other antidotes, of course, including excellent food, copious sunshine, happy puppies, healthy children, and books instead of television.

interestingly, not everyone exposed to the rude is doomed to contract the disease. some people are simply immune. gravitate to them like garden plants to the sun, in the hope that some of what they have might rub off on you. literally or figuratively, whichever you can manage in good conscience.

and if it helps your state of zen, remember the rude can't help the way they are. it's not their fault.

it's the brain damage talking.

Saturday, January 01, 2011

on a lighter note

elvis is dead.

obviously. well...probably.

anyway, for the purposes of this discussion, it doesn't matter. because whether he staged his death and skipped off to a tropical island or died an unkingly death in1977, his music and his legacy appear to have disappeared as well.

music comes and goes, of course, and some collections hold up better than others. but didja ever think, really, that elvis would go the way of, say, michael bolton?

these days, outside some am stations in the middle of the country, elvis tunes get no play. the movies~there were 33 of them, you know~but when was the last time you saw one?

it's odd, because for at least a couple generations, elvis was a singularity. he affected light and gravity. he was everywhere and everything. all entertainment was compared to him, and no entertainment was comparable.

in another generation or so it'll be "elvis who?"

ah, well. easy come, easy go.

but i didn't sit down here to type about elvis. not really. no, that was just preamble to a review of the music of 2010. but since i have a such a limited grasp of "music 2010," this review includes only the music i added to my itunes library in the past 12 months. some of it was actually released in 2010, and some not.

i made some good choices last year. and some not. to wit...

courtyard hounds ~ courtyard hounds. this set is by two-thirds of the dixie chicks, emily robison and martie maguire, and is excellent if you like sheryl crow. which is to say, every track, as sung by robison, would sound exactly the same sung by crow. vocally, lyrically, instrumentally...it's all very crowian.

this isn't meant as a criticism. i mean, i like a lot of sheryl crow's music. and this album is no different. wait, that didn't come out right. i meant to say, this album shares many of the same qualities and characteristics of, um, excellence.

don't misunderstand, robison and maguire are ridiculously talented musicians, composers and lyricists. and there's not a thing wrong with robison's singing. so you should totally check out this album. especially if you're a fan of that other artist, mentioned previously.

the roots ~ how i got over. my tastes don't usually stray toward the hip hop, but on the recommendation of someone i know in the business, i downloaded this set. good decision. how i got over is lyrically intriguing and musically poetic, weaving funk, soul and jazz into something silky and muscular and edged. like a yoga master with a guitar made out of a scimitar strung with razor wire. which sounds kinda cool, but probably would be really hard to play.

carole king & james taylor ~ live at the troubador. these two have been around forever. literally. their earliest recordings have been carbon-dated to just after the big bang, and yet somehow they manage to sound not-old. this live set includes songs that have been part of pop culture for more than 40 years, and they still aren't past their expiration date. taylor's voice is strong and resonant, and king...well, she hits most of the high notes, and tries really hard to hit the rest.

unlike some of the reunion acts from the musical archives, this one actually works.

mavis staples ~ we'll never turn back. so i was shopping at the wine outlet on 15th ave., listening to whatever was playing on richard kinnsies' ipod, when mavis staples came on. the song was "down in mississippi," and it made me stop shopping. it made me walk over to the counter and ask who was singing, and what was the name of the song. it made me write "mavis staples, down in mississippi" on a little slip of paper, and go home and find it on itunes.

after i bought a case of wine, that is.

mavis staples wrings the guts out of a blues song. this set evokes segregation and civil rights marches and countless generations of african-americans who didn't live to see a black man become president. it makes you stop what you're doing and listen.

ten feet ~ everyday. this little group is well-known in the hawaiian islands, and possibly elsewhere, but i'd never heard of them before our stay on oahu in early 2009. their cover of jason mraz's "i'm yours" was getting a lot of airtime, and now it's forever part of the soundtrack of a memorable trip. at least i think that's how it went.

turns out the rest of the album is pretty solid as well. if you like music that emanates a relentless island vibe and transports you to the beach no matter how far away you are, this set does the trick. if you've never been to the islands, and couldn't care less about the vibe, steer clear of this band. and me. 'cause, you know, you're kind of bumming me out.

the beatles ~ help! i bought this vinyl when i was in fourth grade, and memorized every song. i had no idea who the beatles were, really; all i knew was the songs had a certain je ne sais quoi about them, and i could sing along and feel pretty damn happy about it. even if i didn't know je ne sais quoi from jenny sasquatch.

a lot of other people felt the same way, apparently.

the collected works of the beatles were made available, to much fanfare, on itunes in 2010. perhaps you heard about it. on that day, i bought help! and sang along again. i was pretty damn happy about it.

bad company ~ bad company. i bought this because i liked it back in high school. big mistake.

the archies ~ greatest hits. i bought this because i liked the archies when i was in grade school. big mistake.

also in 2010, i let my daughter download some of her favorite music. big mistake. my collection now includes several selections from taylor swift, demi lovato, jordin sparks, selena gomez, and i don't know who-all else. more seem to pop up every day. and mostly they're unlistenable.

but she's my daughter, and she's cute, and her music makes her happy, which makes me happy.

so, there it is. 2010 is over like elvis, but the music lives on.

unless it doesn't.

in which case there's always 2011.

Sent from my iPad

Thursday, December 23, 2010

chemical affliction

"We can never speculate as to what may happen with a drug once it goes into widespread use..."

quick quiz: are those the words of a responsible federal agency, or a two-bit drug dealer?

hint: it's a trick question.

the answer, of course, is "both."

that's your food and drug administration at work, ladies and gentlemen. how 'bout a big hand for the nice people selling us out so transnational pharma can keep raking in their billions?

yay, FDA!

but wait! the same description also fits the nice people at pfizer, the narco-traffickers responsible for "chantix," a drug that can cure your nicotine addiction by helping you kill yourself.

isn't that great? they get your money, and as a gift with purchase, you get a decorative toe tag.

random rhetorical question: if it's not the FDA's job to speculate what might happen when a drug hits the market, whose job is it? do they expect the nice people running big pharma do that? really?

fun trivia: almost half of people with depression are smokers. chantix is a psychotropic drug, the side effects of which can have a profound, often disastrous effect on depressed people.

fun fact: the people at pfizer never tested chantix on people with depression. nor was it tested on patients with histories of panic disorder, psychosis or bipolar disorder.

fun corollary: people suffering from those conditions are disproportionately more likely to attempt suicide than, say, billionaires with fresh tax cuts in their wallets. go figure.

would it surprise you to learn that the people a FDA and pfizer insist they did nothing wrong in bringing this drug to market? sorry, silly question. no one involved will ever admit "mistakes were made," or anything remotely resembling responsibility. the merest hint of same would cost them $ megamillions, maybe more, in legal complications.

instead, after hundreds of suicide attempts (over 100 successful), and more than 5,000 reports of "severe psychiatric symptoms," associated with chantix, pfizer and the FDA are kicking around the idea of maybe studying the drug a little more.

just to be, you know, safe.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

spinal fortitude

late last year i was diagnosed with cervical stenosis, a degenerative condition that signals decline and decrepitude.

if you believe in such things.

fortunately i'm great at denial, so a year later, after a bit of surgical legerdemain, i'm back to playing basketball and preparing for the ski season.

the osteoarthritis implicated in this diagnosis is commonly lifestyle related. if you're active and your workouts tend toward the debilitating, your spine can reap an eventual whirlwind of symptoms. but really, that's kind of a badge of honor, isn't it?

i mean, the alternative of couch-bound lassitude and cardiovascular disease is not much of an alternative at all, n'est-ce pas?

bla bla bla.

this retrospective is prelude to a recent email from a friend who says he's been dealing with symptoms nearly identical to those i experienced last year.

turns out he, too, has spinal stenosis, and he's been referred to a neurosurgeon.

as you might imagine, he's a little upset.

a review of the literature regarding stenosis is disconcerting. absent timely and effective treatment, it can cause all kinds of life-changing trouble. if you like using your arms and legs, that is.

surgery can make a significant difference. it can resolve symptoms, restore strength, and in time, return you to whatever passes for normal in your world. depending on your feel for karma and irony, it might make you better than you were, appreciation-wise.

howard...i feel you, man. i understand how seriously this might be messing with your head. and while your ski season might be over, next season will be here momentarily. and you'll be ready for it.

l'chaim, my friend.

Monday, December 13, 2010

tight christmas


mrs. spaceneedl loves her some christmas specials.

from it's a wonderful life to charlie brown to white christmas to the grinch, this time of year she's all about parking in front of the tv and shushing everyone so she can hear the lines we all know by heart.

which is fine by me. we have too few traditions tying us together at our house. it's comforting to have a handful that we can point to and say, "this is what we do, for no other reason than this is what we do." it might not make sense to sit and watch reruns we've seen dozens of times, but then again, what really makes sense any more?

maybe, one day, the little needls will have their own families and their own traditions, and maybe they'll gather to watch fred claus or elf or bad santa or, you know, whatever passes for holiday programming 20 years from now. it would be nice, though, if they shushed their kids so they could hear one or two of the old school shows, because they're a reminder of a simpler time in their lives. a time when holiday movies weren't full of snark and cynicism and sentiments that make you furrow your brow and think, "wtf?"

watching white christmas this year, it occurred to me that, despite its status as an all-time holiday classic, there's no way this movie gets made today. even if you could resurrect bing and danny and rosemary and vera-ellen.

unless you were making "zombie white christmas," i suppose.

made today, white christmas would have to feature robert downey, jr. as the cia chessmaster whose people love him because of the hilariously varied ways he kills hapless terrorists. will smith and kanye west would reprise the bob wallace and phil davis roles...of course you'd have to change those names. i mean, can you imagine will smith playing "bob wallace" and kanye west playing "phil davis"? and the two of them singing "count your blessings instead of sheep"?

on second thought, that'd be kinda funny.

as undercover operatives posing as r&b artists in new york, the two of them find themselves assigned to the badlands of south dakota, battling caribbean pirates on a quest for lost incan treasure. while in sioux falls they stumble across a promising sister act performing old school christmas songs at a holiday inn express. the haynes sisters, portrayed by taylor swift and katy perry, are desperate to get out of the dakota lounge circuit and land a recording contract, so they concoct a variety of hijinx to impress wallace and davis.

meanwhile, downey has cleverly allowed himself to be captured by the pirates, who have taken control of an icbm silo. downey promises to help them aim the missile at the moon, which legend says will reveal the location of the treasure. instead, he disables the warhead and reprograms the missile to topple the main towers broadcasting fox news.

simultaneously, romantic sparks are flying between west and swift, causing smith and perry to furrow their brows and think, "wtf?"

the four get caught up in a snowmobile chase between, over and through the countless ice fishing houses on lewis and clark lake. hilarity ensues as pirates, drunken ice fishermen, and walleyes fly across the screen at high speed.

i don't want to spoil the finale for you, but it's a big fight scene/dance number involving the five heroes, a bunch of confused fishermen, and a plethora of pirates and wenches played in cameos by an army of international celebrities.

at some point the entire cast gathers to sing a rap version of a certain holiday classic, renamed "tight christmas." afterward everyone grudgingly hugs and goes their separate ways.

a series of sequels is a given.

can you feel it? i got chills. it'll be huge.

mrs. spaceneedl just rolled her eyes at me. it doesn't feel like a classic to her.

she'll change her mind when the screenplay contract is signed and the first check hits our bank account.

that'll be tight.

Saturday, December 04, 2010

filling station

through timeless words
and priceless pictures
we'll fly like birds
not of this earth
and tides they turn
and hearts disfigure
but that's no concern
when we're wounded together
and we tore our dresses and
stained our shirts
but it's nice today
oh, the wait was so worth it..
.

~ jason mraz

from the front end, ten days can stretch beyond the horizon, full of plans and promise.

but the fact is, ten days is only 240 hours, and they pass in the blink of an eye.

especially if you fill them up with life.

for example, you could roll out of bed at dawn every one of those days, because that's when you wake up and find you're ready to get your day rolling. however improbable you might've found that prospect on the front end.

and because it's already warm, you might throw on shorts and a t-shirt and walk a couple miles along the beach as the sun comes up, watching the sky change from purple to pink to orange.

you could pass a couple dozen people, who invariably smile a little smile and say a quiet good morning, because they too are experiencing something simple and clean and timeless and therefore profound.

your new routine, which in no way resembles your old routine, might include coffee that smells like coconut, and a bowlful of something healthy that includes actual coconut.

later, your day might find you out on the electric-blue water, hovering over an ancient volcanic crater or a fossilized coral reef covered with contemporary coral. you splash overboard with a tiny cylinder of portable atmosphere, putting a world of distance between you and your regularly scheduled programming. from the boat to the bottom is a matter of a few dozen feet, but the quiet that settles over you feels like a warm embrace of miles.

it's like swimming in the world's biggest tropical fish tank, pulsing with color. until you see the enormous sea turtles paddling around you, which could never fit in a tank. the honu are either mildly curious or completely indifferent to your presence in their world. they drift away in all directions, leaving much more of an impression on you than you made on them.

another day might find you clinging for life to the side of a volcanic ridge, high above a tropical valley floor. your position is made more precarious by the early morning fog and mist swirling around you. each step is an opportunity for a foot to slip. every reach up is a chance to lose your grip.

photos never do justice to the steepness of this climb, or the consequences of an uncontrolled descent. you don't really get it until you're 10 or fifteen minutes up. that's when it hits you that if you fall, you die.

you keep going up, because the thought of not finishing is unacceptable. in fact, the goal is to get to the top quicker than the last time. for no particular reason.

when you get there, you catch your breath but you don't really celebrate. because you know that the trip down is actually more difficult, and now it's raining. en route, how many times does your foot slip off its designated step? four? six? how does that shot of adrenaline feel, every time?

after what seems like hours, you reach the bottom safely. and you're already thinking about repeating this foolishness on your next visit. which means you're an occasional adrenaline junkie, and therefore not very smart.

ten days seems like a long time, except on day nine. that's when you realize how pitifully short it is. and in a time-warped moment of clarity you can see ahead to a day you might be at this place again, after the children have grown and gone. you think back to this trip, when they were here, running around acting like children...and you wonder where the time went.

you feel that moment with perfect lucidity, and find it dusty and sepia toned. it's not adrenaline you experience then, but something else moving and powerful.

ten days is only 240 hours. and they pass in the blink of an eye, whether you fill them up or not.

better to fill them up with something. if you're lucky, it could be something timeless and priceless.

and so worth it.

Sent from my iPad

Saturday, November 20, 2010

none-too-friendly skies

we're flying tomorrow.

which means we'll have to go through security at seatac airport.

i really hope nobody tries to grope us.

* * * * *

i haven't packed yet. but really, how long can it take to throw some shorts, t-shirts and a swimsuit into a carry-on bag?

besides which, this day-before was full up with last-minute busy work. from the coffee shop to the hardware store to the barber shop to the dive shop to the fred meyer to the post office back to the hardware store to the grocery store and finally, home.

where there was still plenty more to do.

* * * * *

whoops, forgot the bakery and the book store. and the eyeglass repair place.

* * * * *

the forecast was right: it's turned cold in seattle. and windy. this is not a happy combination. wind chill factor is not something i want to deal with. current temperature, 37. feels like: 32. dew point: 23. which means it could get damn cold tonight. forecast for the next three days: snow flurries developing. highs in the 30s. lows in the 20s.

seems like a good time to be leaving town.

* * * * *

movie tonight on comcast channel 650: "how do i look?"
movie on channel 651, same time: "coyote ugly"

* * * * *

crystal mountain and mount baker ski areas are already open. skiing this season is going to be amazing. and, unlike last year, i get to participate. working-from-home snow days also looking promising.

* * * * *

so, i've downloaded "50 first dates" from itunes. why would i do such a thing, you might ask? because it was shot on oahu, that's why. many of the places we'll be going to featured prominently in the movie. sealife park, where adam sandler's character worked. chinaman's hat, near where forgetful lucy lived. kaneohe, waimea, waimanalo...oh, i also thought the movie was pretty funny. i plan to watch it on the flight over. assuming we get past the gropers.

* * * * *

also shot on oahu: "from here to eternity," "tora, tora, tora," and "pearl harbor."

"jurassic park."

the opening shots of "gilligan's island."

"hawaii 5-0."

"lost."

if you like that sort of thing.

* * * * *

10-day forecast for honolulu:

high: 82
low: 71

repeat, 10 times.

*****

we're flying tomorrow.

why am i still awake and typing?


Sent from my iPad

Monday, November 15, 2010

four orders of good to go




"if you never did, you should. these things are fun, and fun is good."

~ dr. seuss


we're t-minus one week to oahu.

the prospect is so good, it's hard to keep in the here and now.

we're constantly recalculating the minimum required to stay functional any given moment, so as not to interfere with our pre-trip prep and general euphoria.

which is to say, we're making plans. oh my, yes.

plan a: scuba diving. the boy is on the brink of scuba certification, and so four dives off southeastern oahu are scheduled and paid for.

these dives will differ dramatically from his experience in puget sound, where the water is 50F year-round. he'll be able to see, for one thing. there's not a lot of light around here these days, so visibility is about six feet. in the bright midday sun off oahu, we expect to be able to see most of the way to san francisco. which will be good...we'll be able to see the dorsal fins circling us.

there will be surfing. the rest of the family took lessons in maui a couple years ago, and they're ready to give it another go. shoot, i may even try it myself. you haven't really lived, after all, until you've been hit in the head with a surfboard or nibbled experimentally by a shark.

speaking of nature's perfect predator, there will be an excursion in a shark cage. last time, sailing out of haleiwa, the boy and i spent 25 minutes within touching distance of a swarm of galapagos sharks. they looked impressively predatory, but word on the boat was that they're bottom feeders. which means they may bite you in the ass.

other sharks sometimes seen on these trips include tigers, gray reef sharks, and pelagic hammerheads. all are described as "aggressive to humans." but we'll be, you know, in a cage. what could possibly go wrong?

10 more very good things to get giddy over in oahu (in inverse order from top to mid-list, then in reverse...)

1. ten days of highs in the mid 80s, lows in the mid 70s.

2. running five miles, barefoot, on kailua beach.

3. açai extravaganza bowls from lanikai juice.

4. grilled shrimp with rice from the lunch truck across the street from keneke's family bbq in waimanalo.

5. hiking up to the lanikai pillboxes.

6. climbing the ha'iku steps.

7. paddle surfing to the mokoluas.

8. jumping off "da big rock" at waimea bay beach park.

9. thanksgiving at the beach.

10. endlessly, pointlessly contemplating how we can stay and live the island life.

and...(this list goes to eleven)

11. duke's on sunday.

these things will be fun, and fun is good, while it lasts. to that end, we'll invoke the corollary that if a little fun is good, more is better.

music playing happy songs
everybody's getting along
dancing in the sunshine
sipping on that rose wine
good times will set you free
oh, this is the place to be
on the beach at waikiki
that's where you'll find me
here on the south side
beach boys paradise
duke's on sunday
duke's on sunday
duke's on sunday


~ henry kapono

* * * * *

update: this just in from the national weather service, for western washington...

... A CHANGE TO MUCH COLDER CONDITIONS IS POSSIBLE FRIDAY INTO NEXT WEEKEND...

COLD AIR IS EXPECTED TO DEVELOP OVER WESTERN CANADA DURING THE UPCOMING WEEK. THERE ARE STRONG INDICATIONS THAT CHANGES IN THE WIND FLOW ALOFT TOWARD THE END OF THE WEEK WILL ALLOW SOME OF THIS COLDER AIR OVER WESTERN CANADA TO FILTER INTO WESTERN WASHINGTON FRIDAY OR SATURDAY.

WEATHER GUIDANCE ALSO SUGGESTS THAT THERE IS A RISK OF SNOW... OR MIXED RAIN AND SNOW SHOWERS OVER PORTIONS OF THE AREA FRIDAY OR SATURDAY.

the fun just does not stop.



Sent from my iPad

Sunday, November 07, 2010

early to rise

"Gotta get to bed so I can get up at 2 to re-set my clocks. I really don't understand why we can't have these time changes at a more convenient hour."

~ david hutchinson

and so, darkness descends on the northwest.

here, the end of daylight savings time is the beginning of months of getting up and driving to work in the dark, returning home in the dark, and ingesting fistfuls of vitamin D in between.

it's a time of people taking on the healthy pallor of zombies, along with a corresponding level of brain activity. seasonal affective disorder wraps us up in its clammy embrace, broken only by forced exposure to UV light or fistfuls of pharmacology.

it hardly seems worth it, but at least on the day we fall back we get an extra hour to spend however we like. there's no consensus on the best way to seize the carp and fully exploit that time, but the options are characteristic of the soon-to-be-deranged...

1. sleep in (the desperate act of the desperately sleep-deprived)
2. run around the grocery store muttering "the end is near," while loading the cart with wine
3. plunge into puget sound's 50-degree waters, imagining they're warm, and you're warm, and that hypothermia builds character
4. go to your favorite restaurant and wander through the bar saying "donner, party of 20..."
5. have mind-bending, toe-curling sex with julianne moore (assuming you actually know julianne moore and she finds you sufficiently intriguing)
6. avoid taking your car to the local car wash for the sixth straight month, because every time you wash you car, it rains (also, when you don't)
7. obsess over politics, even though the recent election ensures nothing worthwhile will happen for the next two years
8. obsess over sports and television, even though nothing worthwhile ever happens in either case
9. go outside at lunch for a glimpse of that dim star low on the southern horizon
10. go shopping, buy things you don't really need, because it makes you feel better, however briefly
11. stay home, save your money, because it makes you feel better, however briefly
12. drink the wine you bought at the grocery store; go buy more
13. buy food, while you're there
14. hug your children
15. yell at your children, tell them to shut the hell up so you can hear yourself think
16. realize what you're thinking isn't particularly interesting or important
17. pick up a book, begin reading; get the feeling you're reading the same few pages over and over
18. find a way to work the word "ennui" into as many conversations as possible
19. exercise, compulsively, because if you don't you feel fat, which is depressing
20. stare blankly into space while daydreaming about sunlight, pondering the prospect it might never return

some of these things might take more than an hour, but not to worry. there's a long, bleak winter extending endlessly before you. you have plenty of time to savor them at your leisure.

that, or you can sail to lahaina.

Sent from my iPad

Wednesday, November 03, 2010

post-game 2010

"violence is the last refuge of the incompetent."

~isaac asimov
***

it's funny, really, how different liberals are from conservatives.

conservatives in the u.s. have their fingers on the trigger. literally. if they don't get their way via the ballot, they're prepared to use other means to achieve their ends. do you need examples, or have you been keeping up with current events?

despite the right wing's professed love of the constitution, it's a love of convenience. "free speech" only applies when it applies to them. in all other cases, the practitioner may be silenced by physical assault, police intervention, or hostage-taking. or all of the above.

constitutional protections regarding church and state? only christian churches need apply. all others are subject to bombing, verbal and otherwise, at any time. jesus must be so proud.

at social gatherings, conservatives demonstrate the failures of public education in myriad ways. spelling, grammar, historical comparisons...all wrong. if you're going to refer to the president as hitler, he cannot, at the same time, be kenyan. nazis, it turns out, were not fond of black people. (note: "kenyan" is not the same as "keynesian.")

also, if obama is muslim, it's not possible that he is also married to michelle. i mean, have you seen how she dresses? that said, she could even make a burka look good.

liberals, meanwhile, have a slightly different vibe. at their gatherings, no one gets beaten, kidnapped, or otherwise violated. worst case, a conservative interloper might be subjected to some tough rhetorical questions.

these comparisons may be important as conservatives even more conservative than the last batch take control of the u.s. house, as well as several state governments. the last bunch, you may recall, helped wreck the world economy, drive the u.s. into two intractable wars, and endorse torture as official u.s. policy.

and yet somehow millions of americans today saw fit to return them to positions of power.

go figure.

perhaps the takeaway is that you get the government you deserve...but not necessarily the government you need.

and that today would be a really good day to restock the wine racks.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

good day, sunshine

everywhere you go
you always take the weather with you
everywhere you go
you always take the weather
everywhere you go
you always take the weather with you
take the weather
take the weather with you

~jimmy buffett


there's no such thing as "sunny san diego."

it doesn't exist. i know this because i was just there for four days, and the sun showed up not once the entire time.

the overcast was low and dark and oppressive. a light mist fell, off and on, morning, noon and night. trees drooped low and dripped on passers-by.

san diego is, in fact, seattle with palm trees. wet palm trees.

sunny? pfft. don't believe it. don't believe the brochures and the reviews and the tv spots featuring blue skies and blue water and scantily clad, sunshiny people. the reality is all gray, all the time.

*****

on day three in san diego i hauled myself out of bed at o'dark-thirty to do the "run for the warriors," a 5K fundraiser for wounded vets of the iraq and afghanistan wars.

pre-race activities began predawn, made darker still by the falling mist and the fact that there is no sun in san diego. none of which mattered to the participants~~i'm convinced everyone there would've run in a hurricane at midnight if asked.

i haven't run in a timed event in years. it's just not something i care to do, any time of day, let alone at such an uncivilized hour. the last time may have been the bay-to-breakers event in san francisco, circa 1989. that's a 12K course up and down some notorious hills, traversed by tens of thousands of people who are either there to run or to dress in attire appropriate for their most outrageous fetish and fantasy. it's the perfect race for those of us who don't really like running, since the wild array of costumed and festooned and unpantalooned people totally distracts you from the fact that you're running.

a buddy and i, running in this fashion (but not that fashion), finished in just over an hour. getting stuck behind some roller skating nuns and a posse of cowgirls wearing chaps (and little else) added several minutes to our time, if you can imagine such a thing. go ahead, imagine it, i'll wait.

anyhoo, moving right along...

given my physical state this time last year, i'm quite pleased to be running at all. not because i enjoy it, mind you, but because i can.

managing my goals and expectations accordingly, i figured i'd go out at a nice, old-guy post-op pace. nothing too ambitious, just a happy-to-be-here half-hour to cover the 3.1 miles.

i didn't stick to the plan.

when the horn sounded, and the people in front of me started to pull away, i got competitive. not "i want to win this thing" competitive, of course. i mean, i'm not totally delusional. no, it was just a "hey, why are all these people passing me?" kind of competitive.

so, despite my pre-race plan, such as it was, i kicked it up a notch. the rate of people passing me decreased, and i actually caught and passed some people in front of me. that felt good.

i finished in 26 minutes flat. that felt good, too.

*****

the flight back to seattle took off into the clouds, and eventually broke through to sunshine. many of the passengers cringed away from the windows like vampires.

a couple hours later we landed, in darkness.

it was still sunnier than san diego.

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something fishy

well the sun's not so hot in the sky today
and you know i can see summertime slipping on away
slipping on...
a few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red
but the grass is as soft as a feather in a feather bed
oh, darling
so i'll be king and you'll be queen
our kingdom's gonna be this little patch of green
won't you lie down with me right now
in this september grass
won't you lie down
september grass...

~james taylor

the cohos are running.

from the pacific through the straits of juan de fuca through puget sound through metro seattle to little north creek~~not two minutes' walk from my office.

at lunchtime, people gather at every bridge to marvel at the fish slowly moving past. gaggles of them form, meander awhile, dissipate, then form up again a while later, a ways further down.

the shocking reds and greens of the cohos' final days are washed out and dull by the time they arrive at this tributary. the fish are battered and spent, and seem barely able to hold their own against the current. it isn't that long ago, a matter of a few weeks, that they possessed the strength to carry them through a long, unforgiving course of obstacles. to arrive here, a place that may have been their destination, or may be a long way from where they intended to go.

the reds and greens in the water are pale reflections of the bright, changing leaves overhead. but the leaves themselves are on a similar arc, and it won't be long before they too fade and fall.

this little drama plays itself out in similar fashion in countless ways and places every year. it's part of nature's genius that we still find it so compelling, no matter how many times we've seen it. and because it's so timeless, so cyclical, it really shouldn't make me sad...but it does.

their time is so short.

time is so short.


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Monday, September 27, 2010

moving to center

at the core of every idea, emotion and sentient being is truth.

if you can get to it.

most often, it seems, the truth at the core hides or is trapped inside a maze of shifting walls and and funhouse mirrors.

the funny thing is, we build the labrynth ourselves. to prop up and defend the version of reality we desperately need, so we can continue to be the people we present to the world. the people we say we are.

that narrative, of course, is maybe one part real to every four parts fabrication, depending on how complicated we've made ourselves. how many masks we wear beneath the hats we put on in the course of a given day.

say, just for fun, that today, to get through the day, you need to be a boss and a colleague and an underling and a spouse and a parent and a friend. and, come to think of it, you're gonna need to be an administrator, too. and an accountant. and a public speaker. and a referee. and a counselor. and a creative problem-solver. a grammarian and a spell checker and a critic.

and a diplomat. and an advocate. a strategist and a tactician, simultaneously. andandand...

we'll say that's what's required today (even though there's probably more), and we'll stipulate for the record, your honor, that it's a fair representation of a typical day in the life.

say, just for laughs (because it really is funny), that this (or a variation of it) is the person you've constructed over the years. so obviously this is who you are required to be today (a different person likely will be required tomorrow, so be ready).

is it not expected that you will be good at being all of these things? is that not what you expect of yourself and what others expect of you? that all these moving pieces and interlocking components will transition one into the other and back again without a glitch? that this finely woven fabric will stretch seamlessly across the day and into the evening and right up to the point where you fall asleep and dream the weird-but-all-too-lifelike dreams?

of course it is.

random rhetorical question: how likely is it that we can actually be good at all these things, all the time, all at the same time? that the expectation and the reality are in synch and humming along on all cylinders as often as we tell ourselves they are?

we are all of us complicated people in a convoluted world. and each day adds another layer to the coats of paint we slap on to keep the whole edifice looking like new (or a reasonable facsimile thereof). meanwhile, the quiet truths of what we believe, what we feel, and who we are at our core tend to get drowned out by the roar of our own machinations, and those of everyone else we deal with.

so we madly cobble together the maze du jour and the requisite sort-of-truths as best we can, always accompanied by a vague unease that we can't put our finger on but which might be the gap between what we typically do and what we know, at our core, is what we should be doing. if you follow the winding thread.

which leads to an inevitable logical corrolary: don't believe everything you think. i mean, obviously. it's just good common sense, and it keeps you humble.

look at this...a huge pile of words about complication and convolution, all leading to what?

i don't know. i forgot my memory foam pillow, so i'm less sanguine than usual about drawing hasty conclusions...

oh! it's this. simplify.

amputate the clutter. pull the plug on the noise. keep the walls from shifting long enough to locate the core, then run frantically to get there.

make it unnecessary to be all of those people, all at once, but if you must, don't insist that you be good at all of them, because you can't. and even if you could, what's the point?

more importantly, are you being good at the right things? the things you know, at your core, are the ones that matter? one day you will have a moment of clarity, that moment when you shed the many layers and say, wow, did i ever screw that up. if only i had focused more on thisandthisandthis, and less on THAT. everything could've been different.

that moment will come. wouldn't it be nice if it were sooner than later?

of course it would. and for those of you who already know this and are staying close to your quiet center and can actually hear yourselves think...i'm envious.

envy, of course, is another shifting wall clattering around my personal maze.

but i see you there, sitting in your zone of serenity, and i want to be there too, metaphorically and metaphysically speaking. which is to say, to be more like myself. i'm in here, somewhere. i'm pretty sure.

so, i'm looking.

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Monday, September 20, 2010

may the patron saint of the blessed cell phone smile upon you

it's a minor miracle.

and it's here on the table next to me. care to guess what it is?

hint: it's not a piece of toast with the image of jesus seared into it. it's not a cornflake in the shape of the virgin mary.

it's certainly not a former colleague of smokey robinson.

no, it's a check for $124 from the state of washington. a refund for the ticket i got for talking on my cell phone while driving.

the beauty part is, i was absolutely guilty. i was talking, i was driving. talking, driving. talkingdriving. one hand was free, but the other one held the phone firmly to my ear. the conversation was really important, though. a matter of life and death.

no, not really. the conversation was completely extraneous.

did i mention that i was guilty? yeah, totally.

despite these facts, which are not in dispute, the state has decided to give me back my money. because of some glitch in the technicalities of the fine print of the nuances of the legalities of the law.

which is to say, the state screwed up.

how often does this kind of thing happen? seriously, how many times in your life have you gotten your money back for something like this? i mean, never, right? it just does. not. happen.

and yet...there it is. an official check signed by the treasurer of the state of washington, jesus buddha muhammad.

i can get used to the idea of the occasional minor miracle. especially when the proof is on the table, close enough to touch.

but the pilgrims milling about our yard have to go.

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Friday, September 17, 2010

postcards from teabagger hell...

the lunatics are inside the perimeter.

from utah to delaware to louisiana to new york...and points elsewhere in between...the crazy is eye-popping and jaw-dropping and head-scratching and tooth-drilling. without novocaine.

in what regard, you might ask, if you had a morbid curiosity about the most hilarious humanity has to offer...

how about the mad percolations of the teabagger machine? hard-right candidates who once would've been considered the most lunatic of the fringe have won gop primaries across the country. their victories are driven by a raucus combination of faux-christian values, faux-conservative fiscal hypocrisy, faux-sympathy for the unemployed, and a deep, damp love for the bank accounts of the hyper-wealthy.

oh, and racism. (did you know: the president is black.)

you want to test their belief in all-american ideals like free speech, freedom of religion and property rights? propose building the muslim equivalent of a ymca in new york, and watch their heads explode.

you want to see how much they really believe in fiscal responsibility and deficit reduction? suggest letting tax cuts expire for the richest of the billionaires, and watch them hyperventilate.

you want to know how they express their christian values and love of their neighbors? listen to the reverend mike huckabee throw the sick and injured under the nearest haybailer.

these are the kind of people who demand all the perks of being an american~roads, police, firefighters, teachers, schools, and the right to worship the military branch of their choice~but they don't want to pay for any of it. somewhere along the way they believed their political doppelgangers who told them they could have it all at no cost whatsoever. taxes? nonsense! it's not the government's money, it's ours! tax cuts pay for themselves, and deficits don't matter.*

(*actual claims and contradictions courtesy of right-wing fabulists!)

note: taxes actually are the government's money~it's in the constitution. and no, tax cuts don't pay for themselves. and deficits appear not to matter only when run up by borrow-and-spend republicans.

the analysis of the rise of the teabagger right says, "they're angry." and they want to take back the country. and they want to restore honor. it doesn't say where this anger was during the bush administration, when "their money" was being wasted by the trillion in unnecessary and unsuccessful wars. when their government was sullying u.s. honor by killing tens of thousands, committing torture, and ravaging the constitution. when tax cuts were the answer to every question, heralding the transition from a healthy economy into the great recession.

didja notice? not a peep out of them during those fun times.

and now they want to put back in power the people who were responsible for all those hijinks, or better still, folks who are even further out on the crazy meter. just imagine the hilarity!

fun fact: christie o'donnell (R-celibacy) once "dabbled into witchcraft," but she didn't join a coven. sure she didn't. and bill clinton didn't inhale. o'donnell's pious supporters are likely to be horrified by this sacrilege~but they will forgive her this and any other heresy rather than vote for a democrat. self-respecting wiccans, meanwhile, are likely to be, uh, disconcerted by the thought of o'donnell in their midst.

america may be a great mixing pot...or it may be the world's largest and most inefficient insane asylum. if we're honest with each other we agree, at least, that what's going on these days is the kind of derangement only the lunified could love.

turns out the inmates are not just in our midst.

they are us.

Friday, September 10, 2010

breakfast club

fred macmurray was so very wrong.

somewhere in tv-land, in a charming episode of "my three sons," uncle charlie is serving breakfast...and fred is hungry.

fred: where are my eggs, charlie?

uncle charlie: here, you can have what ernie didn't eat. that's all that's left.

fred: i see. well, as long as we keep the germs in the family...


in the second half of this two-part episode, e. coli spreads throughout the douglas household and runs rampant across bryant park. eventually uncle charlie is brought up on charges. hilarity ensues in the courtroom, as the jury succumbs to the pandemic.

* * * * *

i don't really think i have e. coli. but it's definitely something. something disturbing and debilitating and demoralizing. ebola, maybe.

this is what happens when the children go back to school and return with all the latest bacteria. they share. and we are the beneficiaries. or the incubators. as the case may be.

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

seeing the light

pack up all your dishes
make note of all good wishes
say goodby to the landlord for me
sons of bitches always bore me
throw out those LA papers
and the moldy box of vanilla wafers
adios to all this concrete
gonna get me some dirt road back street...

~ jerry jeff walker

the missus and i have had an epiphany.

so we're moving.

we're not sure where, or when, but we're moving.

this is not a "move to a bigger house in magnolia" kind of move. this is the kind of move where we leave the neighborhood entirely, on our way out of the country.

catalonia, maybe. or the southeast of france.

we're not sure of the destination yet, pending scouting expeditions starting the first half of 2011.

back to the epiphany, which upon further review isn't particularly epiphanous. it's that corporate america would like to bleed us dry and kick us to the curb at its earliest convenience, and take its healthcare along with it.

meanwhile republicans, who by all accounts are poised to take back control of congress, would like to give huge tax cuts to the wealthiest americans and spending cuts to everyone else. most credible economists agree this is exactly the wrong thing to do, economic policy-wise, and will deepen the current recession brought about by republican economic policies.

this, according to nobel-prize winning economist paul krugman, has a real chance of setting up a japan-style lost decade of long-term unemployment, cash hoarding and deflation. which means we'll be lucky to stay employed during the next ten years, while the value of our assets declines.

the missus and i aren't up for riding out a lost decade. and really, what's the point? if the best we can hope for is to keep working for the privilege of being allowed to keep working, suddenly the whole "american dream" contrivance doesn't seem so dreamy.

it's not rational to keep participating in a game in which the winners (the very wealthy) are predetermined and everybody else gets to stay poor.

so, we're leaving.

we're not sure when. we're not sure where. we just know it won't be anyplace that worships corporate gods or the elected representatives who serve them.

somewhere civil rights are respected and healthcare is a human right.

someplace civilized.  

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