Friday, December 23, 2011
Time for Mark's Holiday posting, 2011
Well, goodness, that time of the year again, when the Geezer reflects on doins’ and dealins’, then takes electrons to fingertips to blather those observations and obfuscations.
So, sit back, and learn from my wit and wisdom. This should not take long, and no brain cells were destroyed in production of this spew.
This has been a four star year for me again. Most are, life is too short not to have it so.
This isn’t all commentary, but I have an idea to get our country moving. If you don’t have strict budgetary restraints, buy American! Be optimistic. Help your neighbors who may be suffering. Lastly, you have heard it before from others, but I am about ready to toss all the incumbents out! The politics around continuing the payroll tax cuts, the renewal of unemployment insurance, and the Keystone pipeline about tip the old Geezer over. Two months does not allow enough time for anything on UI and payroll tax cuts. The resistance to the pipeline is nutz, sends jobs overseas, increases dependence on “foreign” oil, and you greeners, are you nutz? You would rather have petrol refined in China, with no environmental regs, instead of Houston/Port Arthur where we have some. You ever see pix of the air in China?
Be mindful of what you read and hear. New unemployment apps being down is good, 100,000 new jobs is not, because it takes 140,000 just to absorb new entrants to the job market. Methinks it is a plot to protect the re-election of the guy I heard described as “a cross between Erkel, and the guy from MAD magazine (Alfred E. Newman)”
Holey-moley. ‘Nuf said.
The thing that was most often a consideration for me this year was that annoying schmooge on my vocal chord.
I was going to go to Dr. Zappem (Upendra Parvathenini) but the review physicians in Baw-stone said I should get surgery instead. So, ended up with Dr. Slicem’ (Tanya Meyer) who is about my kid’s age. Sheesh. But what an artist she is. The pics taken right after the four hour surgery showed nothing. I mean, nothing. You couldn’t tell anyone was in there slicing and dicing, at all. Truly amazing.
That was the good news, but she couldn’t get it all. So, back to Dr. Zappem and his magic machine and crew. 35 treatments, one a day, twice on Fridays! It is like a huge radio broadcast tower, RF energy. Folks, now I know why they don’t want you climbing up on those towers. At the end, the front of my neck had no skin on it, just white flesh. Yowsers. See it here
I was only concerned about it getting infected, but it didn’t and now is back to normal, as is my voice, save for the kewel “permanent tan” where there was no skin for a while.
Doc said, prior to last treatment, we got it all, interesting, because I thought they were not to speculate, and it takes a new CAT scan to confirm. He is going to confirm that next week in any event.
Cancer is really oversold, IMHO. It is sold on a scare basis, and this treatment place says they are the best another says they are, etc. etc. All accompanied by soothing music, and the soft verbiage delivery. Truth is, most of it they can get rid of these days. Really. Do you research, have a plan, get the best crew you can, and they fix you right up.
My technicians were nothing but the best, folks of good spirit. My dietician was a sweet young thing, worried about me losing weight, which is still a puzzlement to this day. Me, losing weight. Not on this planet. And the Oncology nurse was an ornery old cuss, who I called Nurse Rached, to her face. She took that well, and her colleagues chuckled and nodded their heads in agreement when I referred to her so. She is a weird bird and I think, mean. Found out she was a retired Lt. Colonel in the Army, so I changed tactic, and started calling her Colonel. After that, she seemed to like me better, go figure.
It never hurt; in fact, I can’t even say it was irritating. More like just an annoyance, like getting the goo they make you put on there on the collar of your t-shirt.
What did I do for fun? The annual pre-father’s day trip to Spokane. Went to Colville and took in a Washington Coalition for Open Government schmooze, put up the big letter M in front of the Sherman Pass camera, which is circled here:
Went up the Aenas valley on a forest/BIA road that was, uh, interesting. Including the creek that ran down the middle of the road for about 50 yards. No impassable trees across it, but it was, uh, interesting. Came out on the Sanpoil River, over the mountains to Welpinit. Across the excellent BIA furnished, Colville tribal run FREE ferry across the Columbia, which was a very slick setup, all mechanized docking, nice chat with the deckhand, a displaced logger and tribal member. It is so nice to talk with someone who really, really likes their job, even in zero degree weather with the wind blowing. Then on to SCC where we had our annual Father’s conference, with the usual suspects. Lots of good news there, most notably the DSHS program to have first choice of placement when a kid is taken from a home with their FATHER, which had not always been the choice before.
Another trip to Whistler with my road trip buddy, Pat, where I got up close and personal with one of the “resident bears” See the pix here:
They are sooooo cute, and friendly, from a distance. And no, there was no telephoto on when I took that pic.
Went on an adventure, trying to find this provincial park, only 6 km. the sign said. Only trouble was the forks in the road weren’t marked. I took the most ‘straight ahead’ and obvious branch but the road deteriorated greatly. However, soon there were “street signs”, very nice ones, along the way. After pondering a bit, I figured out I was on the cross country ski trails, and the signs were for the skiers. One place, well, it wasn’t quite like a Jeep commercial, but I did comment, we are committed now, no way am I backing up this hill. My road-trip buddy heard me say that before, a couple of years ago.
Oh, and even in mid-August, there was way plenty of snow left up there, see the pic here:
Yes, that is me, and I am 6’2” on most days, depending on what convenience store or bank I am leaving. (Props to Ron White for that line)
At the end of my treatment, another road trip to Spokane for a weekend. Stayed at Louis Davenport’s place. Do you know that the Davenport Hotel once had the largest PBX (telephone private branch exchange) north of SF? Or that the Crab Louis was created there and named for Mr. Davenport? Went up to my friend Jennifer’s place, met her boyfriend WE (gotta have a better word for male friends over 65 than boyfriends, methinks) I call him WE because I hear “we this”, and “we that”, and since her bro-in-law that lives across the street is named Steve also, like he is, I call him WE.
Never saw the place with the garden working in the summertime. Stuff sure grows fast over there. Her turkeys are—make that were (now eaten) -- funny, when the Rottweiler goes in the pen with them, they follow him around like he has food for them or something. Funniest thing I saw in a long time.
Not being employed is less than high fun. Doing OK, but Christmas presents are uh, modest this year, sorry gang.
El Gato is getting a bit older. Still jumps up fluidly, but sometimes walks like an old man. Still a faithful kitty, loves to snuggle with his daddy when I take a nap, and we watch O’Reilly with a bowl of ice cream each night, prior to bed.
The Evergreen State Fair which is actually the Snohomish County Fair, but don’t tell anyone, where I am on the board, had its best year ever, taking in max money, with great weather. Very proud of that. JP Patches did one of his last shows for us, well attended.
I am advising a new Domestic Violence accountability group on media, public records, and dealing with politicians and bureaucrats, the Washington Domestic Violence Commission, whose goal is to insure true victims get services, and to monitor the courts and their hangers-on who work hard (and spend your tax dollars) to separate good loving parents from their kids without justification while providing a good living to themselves and their consorts. So far, we have a Kingco judge on record calling one fellow “deranged”. Geez, I thought judges used to be lawyers, and they know better than to make records that can come back and bite them. We are having high fun keeping them accountable. Next up, we involve the She-riff (Sheriff Barbie, aka Susan Rahr) by making her investigate all the questionable accusations which all have sworn attestation that a crime was committed. I called the Barbie yesterday and gave her a heads up on that plan. When you don’t have power, and the other folks do, you have to go with guerilla tactics, and she understands that.
I wonder if that book I bought her for Christmas, or the following comment on her website that I made had anything to do with it? “Put Sheriff Barbie's pic back on the front page of your website. She is sorta hot, for an old broad.” You can put a uniform on the girlie, but you can’t take the grrl out of the uniform. For those of you who don’t know her, her pic can be found here:
Her reply was “How will I ever maintain my humility…” Flattery works, boyz.
Can’t finish without a shout out to my WSDOT friends. They said “no one will miss the viaduct”. Of course, they got it wrong again, I LIKE the viaduct. So, Travis Phelps, the viaduct teardown spinmeister, gave me a piece of said structure, inscribed “To the Geezer, for keeping us honest”. That I do.
I could tell more stories, but I won’t. It does remind me of the question……why do these folks keep doing business with you, when you always give them grief? Indeed, I just must be a charming cuss……or something.
Best to you all, thanks for reading, and look forward to another spew and blather next year.
So, sit back, and learn from my wit and wisdom. This should not take long, and no brain cells were destroyed in production of this spew.
This has been a four star year for me again. Most are, life is too short not to have it so.
This isn’t all commentary, but I have an idea to get our country moving. If you don’t have strict budgetary restraints, buy American! Be optimistic. Help your neighbors who may be suffering. Lastly, you have heard it before from others, but I am about ready to toss all the incumbents out! The politics around continuing the payroll tax cuts, the renewal of unemployment insurance, and the Keystone pipeline about tip the old Geezer over. Two months does not allow enough time for anything on UI and payroll tax cuts. The resistance to the pipeline is nutz, sends jobs overseas, increases dependence on “foreign” oil, and you greeners, are you nutz? You would rather have petrol refined in China, with no environmental regs, instead of Houston/Port Arthur where we have some. You ever see pix of the air in China?
Be mindful of what you read and hear. New unemployment apps being down is good, 100,000 new jobs is not, because it takes 140,000 just to absorb new entrants to the job market. Methinks it is a plot to protect the re-election of the guy I heard described as “a cross between Erkel, and the guy from MAD magazine (Alfred E. Newman)”
Holey-moley. ‘Nuf said.
The thing that was most often a consideration for me this year was that annoying schmooge on my vocal chord.
I was going to go to Dr. Zappem (Upendra Parvathenini) but the review physicians in Baw-stone said I should get surgery instead. So, ended up with Dr. Slicem’ (Tanya Meyer) who is about my kid’s age. Sheesh. But what an artist she is. The pics taken right after the four hour surgery showed nothing. I mean, nothing. You couldn’t tell anyone was in there slicing and dicing, at all. Truly amazing.
That was the good news, but she couldn’t get it all. So, back to Dr. Zappem and his magic machine and crew. 35 treatments, one a day, twice on Fridays! It is like a huge radio broadcast tower, RF energy. Folks, now I know why they don’t want you climbing up on those towers. At the end, the front of my neck had no skin on it, just white flesh. Yowsers. See it here
I was only concerned about it getting infected, but it didn’t and now is back to normal, as is my voice, save for the kewel “permanent tan” where there was no skin for a while.
Doc said, prior to last treatment, we got it all, interesting, because I thought they were not to speculate, and it takes a new CAT scan to confirm. He is going to confirm that next week in any event.
Cancer is really oversold, IMHO. It is sold on a scare basis, and this treatment place says they are the best another says they are, etc. etc. All accompanied by soothing music, and the soft verbiage delivery. Truth is, most of it they can get rid of these days. Really. Do you research, have a plan, get the best crew you can, and they fix you right up.
My technicians were nothing but the best, folks of good spirit. My dietician was a sweet young thing, worried about me losing weight, which is still a puzzlement to this day. Me, losing weight. Not on this planet. And the Oncology nurse was an ornery old cuss, who I called Nurse Rached, to her face. She took that well, and her colleagues chuckled and nodded their heads in agreement when I referred to her so. She is a weird bird and I think, mean. Found out she was a retired Lt. Colonel in the Army, so I changed tactic, and started calling her Colonel. After that, she seemed to like me better, go figure.
It never hurt; in fact, I can’t even say it was irritating. More like just an annoyance, like getting the goo they make you put on there on the collar of your t-shirt.
What did I do for fun? The annual pre-father’s day trip to Spokane. Went to Colville and took in a Washington Coalition for Open Government schmooze, put up the big letter M in front of the Sherman Pass camera, which is circled here:
Went up the Aenas valley on a forest/BIA road that was, uh, interesting. Including the creek that ran down the middle of the road for about 50 yards. No impassable trees across it, but it was, uh, interesting. Came out on the Sanpoil River, over the mountains to Welpinit. Across the excellent BIA furnished, Colville tribal run FREE ferry across the Columbia, which was a very slick setup, all mechanized docking, nice chat with the deckhand, a displaced logger and tribal member. It is so nice to talk with someone who really, really likes their job, even in zero degree weather with the wind blowing. Then on to SCC where we had our annual Father’s conference, with the usual suspects. Lots of good news there, most notably the DSHS program to have first choice of placement when a kid is taken from a home with their FATHER, which had not always been the choice before.
Another trip to Whistler with my road trip buddy, Pat, where I got up close and personal with one of the “resident bears” See the pix here:
They are sooooo cute, and friendly, from a distance. And no, there was no telephoto on when I took that pic.
Went on an adventure, trying to find this provincial park, only 6 km. the sign said. Only trouble was the forks in the road weren’t marked. I took the most ‘straight ahead’ and obvious branch but the road deteriorated greatly. However, soon there were “street signs”, very nice ones, along the way. After pondering a bit, I figured out I was on the cross country ski trails, and the signs were for the skiers. One place, well, it wasn’t quite like a Jeep commercial, but I did comment, we are committed now, no way am I backing up this hill. My road-trip buddy heard me say that before, a couple of years ago.
Oh, and even in mid-August, there was way plenty of snow left up there, see the pic here:
Yes, that is me, and I am 6’2” on most days, depending on what convenience store or bank I am leaving. (Props to Ron White for that line)
At the end of my treatment, another road trip to Spokane for a weekend. Stayed at Louis Davenport’s place. Do you know that the Davenport Hotel once had the largest PBX (telephone private branch exchange) north of SF? Or that the Crab Louis was created there and named for Mr. Davenport? Went up to my friend Jennifer’s place, met her boyfriend WE (gotta have a better word for male friends over 65 than boyfriends, methinks) I call him WE because I hear “we this”, and “we that”, and since her bro-in-law that lives across the street is named Steve also, like he is, I call him WE.
Never saw the place with the garden working in the summertime. Stuff sure grows fast over there. Her turkeys are—make that were (now eaten) -- funny, when the Rottweiler goes in the pen with them, they follow him around like he has food for them or something. Funniest thing I saw in a long time.
Not being employed is less than high fun. Doing OK, but Christmas presents are uh, modest this year, sorry gang.
El Gato is getting a bit older. Still jumps up fluidly, but sometimes walks like an old man. Still a faithful kitty, loves to snuggle with his daddy when I take a nap, and we watch O’Reilly with a bowl of ice cream each night, prior to bed.
The Evergreen State Fair which is actually the Snohomish County Fair, but don’t tell anyone, where I am on the board, had its best year ever, taking in max money, with great weather. Very proud of that. JP Patches did one of his last shows for us, well attended.
I am advising a new Domestic Violence accountability group on media, public records, and dealing with politicians and bureaucrats, the Washington Domestic Violence Commission, whose goal is to insure true victims get services, and to monitor the courts and their hangers-on who work hard (and spend your tax dollars) to separate good loving parents from their kids without justification while providing a good living to themselves and their consorts. So far, we have a Kingco judge on record calling one fellow “deranged”. Geez, I thought judges used to be lawyers, and they know better than to make records that can come back and bite them. We are having high fun keeping them accountable. Next up, we involve the She-riff (Sheriff Barbie, aka Susan Rahr) by making her investigate all the questionable accusations which all have sworn attestation that a crime was committed. I called the Barbie yesterday and gave her a heads up on that plan. When you don’t have power, and the other folks do, you have to go with guerilla tactics, and she understands that.
I wonder if that book I bought her for Christmas, or the following comment on her website that I made had anything to do with it? “Put Sheriff Barbie's pic back on the front page of your website. She is sorta hot, for an old broad.” You can put a uniform on the girlie, but you can’t take the grrl out of the uniform. For those of you who don’t know her, her pic can be found here:
Her reply was “How will I ever maintain my humility…” Flattery works, boyz.
Can’t finish without a shout out to my WSDOT friends. They said “no one will miss the viaduct”. Of course, they got it wrong again, I LIKE the viaduct. So, Travis Phelps, the viaduct teardown spinmeister, gave me a piece of said structure, inscribed “To the Geezer, for keeping us honest”. That I do.
I could tell more stories, but I won’t. It does remind me of the question……why do these folks keep doing business with you, when you always give them grief? Indeed, I just must be a charming cuss……or something.
Best to you all, thanks for reading, and look forward to another spew and blather next year.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Two stories for you for Christmas
Somewhat unlike other years, I want to share with you some messages that I was fortunate enough to get.
The theme is basically this: Maintain hope, things will get better. Be kind to your fellow travelers on planet earth.
Miracles will happen.
Hope you enjoy these as much as I did.
Mark
Understand that things happen for a reason
The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn , arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.
On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.
On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.
The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity, so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.
She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. “Pastor,” she asked, “where did you get that tablecloth?” The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria .
The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten “The Tablecloth”. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria .
When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home. That was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.
The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike?
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier.
He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.
The theme is basically this: Maintain hope, things will get better. Be kind to your fellow travelers on planet earth.
Miracles will happen.
Hope you enjoy these as much as I did.
Mark
Understand that things happen for a reason
The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn , arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.
On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.
On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.
The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity, so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.
She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. “Pastor,” she asked, “where did you get that tablecloth?” The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria .
The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten “The Tablecloth”. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria .
When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home. That was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.
The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike?
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier.
He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.
Christmas at the Gas Station
The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through.
Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll just go."
"Not without something hot in your belly." George said.
He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew ... Made it myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh."
Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front.. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken." George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead.
"You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away.
"But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good."
George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ." George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought.
George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on.
"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway.
As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me."
George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease.
"Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance."
The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio.
He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."
George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain."
George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked.
"None for me," said the officer..
"Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time.
The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.
"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.
"Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt."
The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"
The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now."
He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pea shooter away."
George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week."
George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can."
He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out."
The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer."
"Shut up and drink your coffee " the cop said.
George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.
"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"
"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.
Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."
George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other.
"That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued.
"Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."
The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"
Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything."
"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems."
George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."
The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you."
"And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need."
George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours."
The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier.
"And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said. "Now git home to your family."
The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."
"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after."
George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?"
"I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?"
"Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby."
The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor.
The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."
George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.
"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again."
The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned."
George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room.
"You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas."
Friday, December 24, 2010
Time for Mark's Holiday posting, 2010
Well, goodness, that time of the year again, when the Geezer reflects on doins’ and dealins’, then takes electrons to fingertips to blather those observations and obfuscations.
So, sit back, and learn from my wit and wisdom. This should not take long, and no brain cells were destroyed in production of this spew.
This has been a four star year for me. Most are, life is too short not to have it so.
I got a job back in Everett, and enjoy my 8 minute commute; all are happy save for the a-rabs, because they sell me less gas. My new job is in HR (gasp!). My old peeps in South Park bet I would only go 2 months without getting a smackdown for being politically incorrect, but I made it 8 months without the written warning for (insert drum roll and rimshot) referring to myself as an old guy, and for having Ms. Wonderful, a talking doll given to me be a dear friend I don’t see often, on my desk. Been there the 5 years I have been at the lazy B, never been a problem. She says things you may hear about your house, like, “sure you want me to wash this shirt, you’ve only worn it a few times” and “let me take the garbage out, I need the exercise”. Really offensive stuff, but an anonymous complainant (I know who it is, a co-worker, who volunteers for Wimmin’s Industries, Inc., who is often on the other side of the issues I work for). Whatta beyatch. Anyway, got written up, with the notation that “HR must adhere to a higher standard”. Funny, heard that a couple of times, and asked where that standard is memorialized, so I can follow the rules. It isn’t. Same “higher standard” that was quoted when I wore shorts ONE day this summer. You know me, testing, testing. Yes, it is legal. Yes, the last two summers I wore them every day. Heck, my t-shirt was of the pocket variety, not that safety lime green one I have with the pic of the pole dancer on it, that says “I support single Moms”
So, sit back, and learn from my wit and wisdom. This should not take long, and no brain cells were destroyed in production of this spew.
This has been a four star year for me. Most are, life is too short not to have it so.
I got a job back in Everett, and enjoy my 8 minute commute; all are happy save for the a-rabs, because they sell me less gas. My new job is in HR (gasp!). My old peeps in South Park bet I would only go 2 months without getting a smackdown for being politically incorrect, but I made it 8 months without the written warning for (insert drum roll and rimshot) referring to myself as an old guy, and for having Ms. Wonderful, a talking doll given to me be a dear friend I don’t see often, on my desk. Been there the 5 years I have been at the lazy B, never been a problem. She says things you may hear about your house, like, “sure you want me to wash this shirt, you’ve only worn it a few times” and “let me take the garbage out, I need the exercise”. Really offensive stuff, but an anonymous complainant (I know who it is, a co-worker, who volunteers for Wimmin’s Industries, Inc., who is often on the other side of the issues I work for). Whatta beyatch. Anyway, got written up, with the notation that “HR must adhere to a higher standard”. Funny, heard that a couple of times, and asked where that standard is memorialized, so I can follow the rules. It isn’t. Same “higher standard” that was quoted when I wore shorts ONE day this summer. You know me, testing, testing. Yes, it is legal. Yes, the last two summers I wore them every day. Heck, my t-shirt was of the pocket variety, not that safety lime green one I have with the pic of the pole dancer on it, that says “I support single Moms”
http://thespinmeister.blogspot.com/2008/03/gasp-did-he-really-wear-pix-of-pole.html
I save that one for when I have meetings with misandrous judges from Hazard County (Thurston, to the uninitiated) or where representatives of Wimmin’s Industries, Inc are in attendance. Yea, the same cabal that refers to us when we walk into the room with a “here come the usual suspects”. Such respect they show for all.
On, whining mode off.
Made it up in the mountains a few times, nice hikes, nice days great company. Ran into one gent I knew from Tacoma, who I had not seen for 30 years. Good thing he had a name tag on! Been running into lots of folks, one just today that used to pour me coffee at Chez Denny at Island Crossing. I didn’t recognize her, and lemme tell ya, it is unnerving to have a woman come up to you on the street and say “I know you”, when you don’t at all recognize her.
Took a ride on a Zeppelin, the largest airship in the world. Cost an arm and a leg, but hey, it was fun. Happy Birthday, from me to me. Also rode on Mr. WSDOT’s snowplow when they opened the North Cascades Highway. That took two years of jonesing, and a kind and sympathetic newspaper publisher I know. They insisted that they only take journalists, so, I became one for a day. I promised the publisher pix and a story, and I got both front page, above the fold, with a byline. It amused and impressed my journo friends, who welcomed me as one of them. It bewildered my “regular” work colleagues that I was multi-talented, and it amazed me that if you go to plan B, then plan C, eventually you can get the bureaucracy to do what you want them to do.
Got to tour a Dreamlifter, a modified 747-400, with a bulbous body and cut off tail that swings open. It flies around the world to pick up parts, whole body sections, wings, and the like for our 787. Got to sit in the right seat, but nutz, can’t take pix on the Boeing property.
I did get a pix of me in the right seat of a 787, taken off the property, so legal to snap a pix. You can see me looking spiffily professional below.
In the political activity department, I have been trying to get appointed to the Evergreen State Fair Board (Monroe) for the last three years. Got some pushback from my County Council member, pushback from the appointing authority, the county executive's staff, so I got down to plan C, and found Aaron Reardon at a budget meeting. Chatted him up, as I am prone to do, and told him straight away that I wanted that appointment, and wanted an answer on my application. I reminded him that "Go pound sand, Mahnkey" is a legit answer, and just tell me that if that is the case. He was gracious, as always, said of course we want someone like you, that is a mover and shaker, and by golly, I got appointed.
In the disappointment department, I was jonesing for a chance to test the evacuation for the 787. They load it up with B employees, get some cabin crew from real airlines, turn off the lights, and we get to go down the emergency evacation slides, but only half of them work, and they t'aint telling which ones work, and which don't. Tried various types of contacts, no kewpie. After a summer meeting where Pat Shanahan, a V.P. of airplane programs spoke, I chatted him up, asked who I needed to talk to, and he gave me a name. Then I said, can I tell them Pat sent me, and he graciously said of course. However, they did the drill before that, so I didn't make that one happen. My work colleagues are aghast that I did that, but hey, he puts his pants on one leg at a time, and I worked briefly for one of his direct reports, so had some previous interaction with him.
So, those were the great adventures. Made it up to Whistler on Memorial Day, not much mud, no snow, and no people. Had one of the glass bottomed Peak-to-Peak gondolas to myself, a normally impossible task. Made it to the ocean last weekend, storms, hail, lightning, and yup, no people. 248 unit place at Long Beach and TWO cars in the parking lot. Not much problem getting an upgrade to a two bedroom suite, third floor, full ocean view. All for my geezer rate of $66. Saw-WEET.
Lastly, many have inquired about my “toasty” voice. Got some smooge on my vocal chord. Kewel full-motion video pictures in color, saw it myself. Of course to get the little camera thingy down there you gargle anesthetic, which you have to keep on your chords. They tell ya it will sound like you are talking underwater, but I think these guys inspired and prototyped waterboarding, because it felt like I was drowning, actually. So, I have this young surgeon, about the age of my youngest kids, who is going to dive in there and figure out what it is. Not to worry, easy to come out, but many have asked, so I am telling ya now. Don’t be going and taking out life insurance policies on the Geezer, I have too much more work to do, making bureaucrats and politicians do what the sheeples want, and what is right and just.
Gato and I wish you well, a bright new year, and prosperity, joyful delight, all that you deserve coming to you is my wish.
Mark
AKA The Geezer
Monday, March 01, 2010
Old, but still true
Recently, during research at my Crystal Falls laboratory, my ‘assistant’ DJ and I discovered the following element. I am reasonably confident that other like-minded individuals have uncovered this same truth. We have been able to publish our findings ahead of the rest. You may all use your own capable scientific minds in applying simple logic to confirm our results.
“ This is the discovery of the heaviest element yet known to science. The new element, Governmentium (Gv) has one neuron, 25 assistant neurons, 85 deputy neurons, and 198 assistant deputy neurons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.
These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons. Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert; however, it can be detected, because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact.
A minute amount of Governmentium can cause a reaction that would normally take less than a second to from four days to four years to complete. Governmentium has a normal half-life of 2-6 years, it does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neurons and deputy neurons exchange places. In fact, Governmentium’s mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization will cause more morons to become neurons, forming isadopes.
This characteristic of moron promotion suggests that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a critical concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical morass. When catalyzed with money, Governmentium becomes Administration, an element that radiates just as much energy as Governmentium since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons…….” Respectfully submitted: Dr. T. Geexer, and DJ “Honeycutt” MD (Moron Detector)*
“ This is the discovery of the heaviest element yet known to science. The new element, Governmentium (Gv) has one neuron, 25 assistant neurons, 85 deputy neurons, and 198 assistant deputy neurons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.
These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons. Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert; however, it can be detected, because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact.
A minute amount of Governmentium can cause a reaction that would normally take less than a second to from four days to four years to complete. Governmentium has a normal half-life of 2-6 years, it does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neurons and deputy neurons exchange places. In fact, Governmentium’s mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization will cause more morons to become neurons, forming isadopes.
This characteristic of moron promotion suggests that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a critical concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical morass. When catalyzed with money, Governmentium becomes Administration, an element that radiates just as much energy as Governmentium since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons…….” Respectfully submitted: Dr. T. Geexer, and DJ “Honeycutt” MD (Moron Detector)*
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Keep officers’ deaths in perspective
From the Lynnwood Enterprise, a subsidiary of the Washington Post, published 12-30-2009
Keep officers’ deaths in perspective
By Mark Mahnkey
King County Sheriff Sue Rahr shared with me a very moving “In Memory” note about the recently fallen Lakewood Police officers.
It caused me to reflect on how this tragedy was handled, and how it came to pass.
Now, let me be clear, I believe each man and woman, when they go out to work, deserves to come home in the same condition they left. Everyone has the right to choose their job, balancing personal interest, remuneration, safety and a host of other things.
There are many who “keep us safe” and die on the job, without fanfare or concern for their families. There is no balance, and no loss of life is worth more than another, no life should be celebrated more than for the least of us.
There are many who die daily “keeping us safe.” The devoted WSDOT folks, who are also public servants and keep us safe no less than the police, lost a fellow named Neal Richards clearing a landslide last month. There was barely a passing mention of his death, yet he too is a public servant survived by a wife and two kids. Isn’t Mr. Richards’ life and his family’s financial situation equally important?
And where is the judge’s name that let Clemmons out on bail? It is Thomas Felnagle of Pierce County. Just because judges wear robes, they are not saints. This same group, just a bunch of politicians, screams for keeping judicial discretion, yet fails to engage their brain in the bail discussion while serving up justice. Why is the media protecting his vapid decision to let this guy out, when he was facing life on a third strike? Then, the politician/judge hides when asked to justify his ruling. At least Gov. Mike Huckabee addressed his thinking on the issue of clemency…
There were so many issues to come together to form the perfect storm on this. Huckabee should have commuted Clemmons’ early sentence, rightly. A juvenile gets 106 years for a misdemeanor crime? But since then, where is the notice the cops broke a “Top 10 rule” to vary their routine? Where is the notice that Clemmons’ family had a chance in May to get him help and failed to do so? Where is the notice that his aunt called the police, rightly, and ratted him out, but who then got paid back by the city with having her house trashed when she was the responsible one doing the right thing?
If we are idolizing one public servant that keeps us safe, we should do so for all. And we should keep it dignified.
Sad, unacceptable things happened, for certain, but as a friend notes, “If my family were exterminated by a similar vermin, would the cops give the same attention to catching the bad guy?”
Sheriff Rahr is correct that we must ask “why.” What do these acts mean, and what must we do differently in the future? I plan on joining her in asking those questions.
Mark Mahnkey is public policy director at the Washington Civil Rights Council and was formerly on the faculty at Washington State University. He can be reached at 206-202-2272 or contact@wacrc.org.
Keep officers’ deaths in perspective
By Mark Mahnkey
King County Sheriff Sue Rahr shared with me a very moving “In Memory” note about the recently fallen Lakewood Police officers.
It caused me to reflect on how this tragedy was handled, and how it came to pass.
Now, let me be clear, I believe each man and woman, when they go out to work, deserves to come home in the same condition they left. Everyone has the right to choose their job, balancing personal interest, remuneration, safety and a host of other things.
There are many who “keep us safe” and die on the job, without fanfare or concern for their families. There is no balance, and no loss of life is worth more than another, no life should be celebrated more than for the least of us.
There are many who die daily “keeping us safe.” The devoted WSDOT folks, who are also public servants and keep us safe no less than the police, lost a fellow named Neal Richards clearing a landslide last month. There was barely a passing mention of his death, yet he too is a public servant survived by a wife and two kids. Isn’t Mr. Richards’ life and his family’s financial situation equally important?
And where is the judge’s name that let Clemmons out on bail? It is Thomas Felnagle of Pierce County. Just because judges wear robes, they are not saints. This same group, just a bunch of politicians, screams for keeping judicial discretion, yet fails to engage their brain in the bail discussion while serving up justice. Why is the media protecting his vapid decision to let this guy out, when he was facing life on a third strike? Then, the politician/judge hides when asked to justify his ruling. At least Gov. Mike Huckabee addressed his thinking on the issue of clemency…
There were so many issues to come together to form the perfect storm on this. Huckabee should have commuted Clemmons’ early sentence, rightly. A juvenile gets 106 years for a misdemeanor crime? But since then, where is the notice the cops broke a “Top 10 rule” to vary their routine? Where is the notice that Clemmons’ family had a chance in May to get him help and failed to do so? Where is the notice that his aunt called the police, rightly, and ratted him out, but who then got paid back by the city with having her house trashed when she was the responsible one doing the right thing?
If we are idolizing one public servant that keeps us safe, we should do so for all. And we should keep it dignified.
Sad, unacceptable things happened, for certain, but as a friend notes, “If my family were exterminated by a similar vermin, would the cops give the same attention to catching the bad guy?”
Sheriff Rahr is correct that we must ask “why.” What do these acts mean, and what must we do differently in the future? I plan on joining her in asking those questions.
Mark Mahnkey is public policy director at the Washington Civil Rights Council and was formerly on the faculty at Washington State University. He can be reached at 206-202-2272 or contact@wacrc.org.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Mark’s Christmas Musings, also known as Mark’s blather and spew
Mark’s Christmas Musings, also known as Mark’s blather and spew
I had a bit of a challenge getting into it today. Started wrapping presents, and it just wasn’t as much fun as it should be. Forgot to put on the Christmas music, yeah, that’s the ticket. So, I did, my own little collection I made, and then all was good.
I do get such a kick out of getting stuff that is just right for my family. But, the jolly fat guy (me) had to cut back a bit this year. Longer commute, more expenses, loss of overtime just makes it more of a challenge.
But, you do believe in Santa, dontcha? I do. In fact I just went to www.noradsanta.org, where the Santa tracker is, and saw that Santa just left Brazil and is headed for North America, so I have to type fast. Do you know that the guy that got that phone call at the Air Force base in Colorado long ago, when Sears misprinted the “talk to Santa” number, and instead printed the “red phone” number and started the NORAD Santa tracker died this year? A shame. Story here: http://www.noradsanta.org/en/whytrack.html
So, I gave El Gato (click for picture) my faithful cat part one of his Christmas dinner. Steamed Wild Alaskan Salmon Appetizer (in a delicate broth, says the label.) I kid you not. Looks and smells like what you and I would eat. $1.29 per. Yup, nothing too good for my guard kitty, who keeps the house safe while I work. Tomorrow he gets the main course, Fancy Feast Elegant Medley, Tender Turkey Tuscany in a savory sauce, with long grain rice and garden greens. Also pricy, but he gets a big kitty attitude every day when I feed him his Purina One “Senior Formula” kibbles.
Such a great companion and joy he is to me, and I don’t even like cats.
Yes, Santa is still alive, and we see evidence all around. You ever have a “stretch present” you wanted—like a stretch goal at work, you probably won’t make it but just perhaps……..
I got mine this year courtesy of one of my wonderful kids. Got Dad a bunch of “boy gifts”. Wonderful!!!!
Cheech and Chong are right. Remember their bit, “Santa and his Old Lady”? It is about the question “is Santa still around”, with all the crap that goes on around us. Cheech doubted Santa still came around due to “too much recession, man”. “Too much repression, man” Tommy Chong replies. Yes, that is what we have, both recession and repression. My wish is that we have less of each, but each of us must work to make that happen. I believe, do you? Won’t you join me?
So, what is good? The Toys for Tots and other toy drives, including ours at the lazy “B” gave toys to foster kids this year. Good start, those kids didn’t choose to be where they are, and it is nice that everyone gets something.
How about that guy whose wife stole his kid, went to Brazil, then died, just got his kid back today that he hadn’t seen for 5 years. I call that a win.
I got to see the 787 make its first flight, a plane which I worked on the software for manufacture. Volunteered for duty that day, and was less than 75 yards from the runway just a few feet ahead of where the wheels left the ground. Now, that was tres kewel! Now, if I could just get on that team that does the evacuation test for certification, where they run everyone off the plane down those slides. I really want to do that, but not as the result of a crash. I think I finally found the lady that coordinates that, and she invited me to ping her end of January. That would be SAW-WEET to get to do that.
My boss-lady got a promotion, so I don’t know who I will be working for, and I am particular about my bosses. Perhaps I will apply for a position she will have in her new position. Back to Everett would be nice. Could go to South Carolina, I suppose for a couple of years. And I did apply for a position today in Grottaglie Italy with our partner. A two year gig, lotsa OT and no taxes on that income.
In the Mark the Media Whore department, I will have another op-ed published in the Enterprise next week (a subsidiary of the Washington Post, published weekly by the Everett Herald) And, I was interviewed by a chap for AOL,com-Finance, who was writing about the economic effects of false allegations of Domestic Violence.
In the keeping kids with access to both parents front, our bill is still alive this legislative session, but likely won’t see action. However, thanks to the Public Records Act, we showed Senator Hargrove (D) Hoquiam that the judges aren’t doing what he wanted when he changed the law, so we need a bit more data and a modification in a form, and he will have the evidence he needs to move our bill. Our meeting two weeks ago was warm, and he told us how much he appreciates our fact based presentation, instead of just whining. It is a long slog, but kids deserve both parents in their lives in a meaningful way even when the parents are no longer together. The social pathologies exhibited when that doesn’t happen are many, and the cost just to the state of Washington is $711 Million each year, according to a think tank study.
I am still movin’ and shakin’ instead of bobbin’ and weavin’. Still like to get outside, and up in the mountains, and have a list of places to go next summer. Of course, I have those irritating old folk’s things; wear a mucho sexy elastic sock on one calf due to circulation issues, but moving around solves that problem. Still go hard at projects for as long as it takes, I am energized by work, work with a great crew, and wake up 4 of 5 days without the alarm, ready to rock. That is a very nice thing!
Well, time to sign off. I just saw the Canadian NORAD CF-18s and the American NORAD fighter pilots in either the F-15 or the F-16 go by to meet Santa.
Best to all, I love all you guys and gals.
Mark
I had a bit of a challenge getting into it today. Started wrapping presents, and it just wasn’t as much fun as it should be. Forgot to put on the Christmas music, yeah, that’s the ticket. So, I did, my own little collection I made, and then all was good.
I do get such a kick out of getting stuff that is just right for my family. But, the jolly fat guy (me) had to cut back a bit this year. Longer commute, more expenses, loss of overtime just makes it more of a challenge.
But, you do believe in Santa, dontcha? I do. In fact I just went to www.noradsanta.org, where the Santa tracker is, and saw that Santa just left Brazil and is headed for North America, so I have to type fast. Do you know that the guy that got that phone call at the Air Force base in Colorado long ago, when Sears misprinted the “talk to Santa” number, and instead printed the “red phone” number and started the NORAD Santa tracker died this year? A shame. Story here: http://www.noradsanta.org/en/whytrack.html
So, I gave El Gato (click for picture) my faithful cat part one of his Christmas dinner. Steamed Wild Alaskan Salmon Appetizer (in a delicate broth, says the label.) I kid you not. Looks and smells like what you and I would eat. $1.29 per. Yup, nothing too good for my guard kitty, who keeps the house safe while I work. Tomorrow he gets the main course, Fancy Feast Elegant Medley, Tender Turkey Tuscany in a savory sauce, with long grain rice and garden greens. Also pricy, but he gets a big kitty attitude every day when I feed him his Purina One “Senior Formula” kibbles.
Such a great companion and joy he is to me, and I don’t even like cats.
Yes, Santa is still alive, and we see evidence all around. You ever have a “stretch present” you wanted—like a stretch goal at work, you probably won’t make it but just perhaps……..
I got mine this year courtesy of one of my wonderful kids. Got Dad a bunch of “boy gifts”. Wonderful!!!!
Cheech and Chong are right. Remember their bit, “Santa and his Old Lady”? It is about the question “is Santa still around”, with all the crap that goes on around us. Cheech doubted Santa still came around due to “too much recession, man”. “Too much repression, man” Tommy Chong replies. Yes, that is what we have, both recession and repression. My wish is that we have less of each, but each of us must work to make that happen. I believe, do you? Won’t you join me?
So, what is good? The Toys for Tots and other toy drives, including ours at the lazy “B” gave toys to foster kids this year. Good start, those kids didn’t choose to be where they are, and it is nice that everyone gets something.
How about that guy whose wife stole his kid, went to Brazil, then died, just got his kid back today that he hadn’t seen for 5 years. I call that a win.
I got to see the 787 make its first flight, a plane which I worked on the software for manufacture. Volunteered for duty that day, and was less than 75 yards from the runway just a few feet ahead of where the wheels left the ground. Now, that was tres kewel! Now, if I could just get on that team that does the evacuation test for certification, where they run everyone off the plane down those slides. I really want to do that, but not as the result of a crash. I think I finally found the lady that coordinates that, and she invited me to ping her end of January. That would be SAW-WEET to get to do that.
My boss-lady got a promotion, so I don’t know who I will be working for, and I am particular about my bosses. Perhaps I will apply for a position she will have in her new position. Back to Everett would be nice. Could go to South Carolina, I suppose for a couple of years. And I did apply for a position today in Grottaglie Italy with our partner. A two year gig, lotsa OT and no taxes on that income.
In the Mark the Media Whore department, I will have another op-ed published in the Enterprise next week (a subsidiary of the Washington Post, published weekly by the Everett Herald) And, I was interviewed by a chap for AOL,com-Finance, who was writing about the economic effects of false allegations of Domestic Violence.
In the keeping kids with access to both parents front, our bill is still alive this legislative session, but likely won’t see action. However, thanks to the Public Records Act, we showed Senator Hargrove (D) Hoquiam that the judges aren’t doing what he wanted when he changed the law, so we need a bit more data and a modification in a form, and he will have the evidence he needs to move our bill. Our meeting two weeks ago was warm, and he told us how much he appreciates our fact based presentation, instead of just whining. It is a long slog, but kids deserve both parents in their lives in a meaningful way even when the parents are no longer together. The social pathologies exhibited when that doesn’t happen are many, and the cost just to the state of Washington is $711 Million each year, according to a think tank study.
I am still movin’ and shakin’ instead of bobbin’ and weavin’. Still like to get outside, and up in the mountains, and have a list of places to go next summer. Of course, I have those irritating old folk’s things; wear a mucho sexy elastic sock on one calf due to circulation issues, but moving around solves that problem. Still go hard at projects for as long as it takes, I am energized by work, work with a great crew, and wake up 4 of 5 days without the alarm, ready to rock. That is a very nice thing!
Well, time to sign off. I just saw the Canadian NORAD CF-18s and the American NORAD fighter pilots in either the F-15 or the F-16 go by to meet Santa.
Best to all, I love all you guys and gals.
Mark
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Holiday thoughts from the Geezer
This won't be one of those "holiday" notes, where I tell you about the $100,000 wedding of our daughter, or the month we spent in the south of France. Nor will it be "all the stuff I am thankful for".
I actually had some time to reflect today, and here are the results of that reflection. Yes, this is random thoughts, so don't look for consistency.
I was walking into the house, past the garden hose hanging by the garage. Nice hose, got it for Christmas last year. Was there anything wrong with the old one? No, shorter, smaller diameter, kinked up sometimes, but it was faithful in delivering water to the end of the nozzle. The boys asked what I wanted so I told them 75 foot, anti-kink, 5/8 inch flexible hose, and it showed up.
I looked over my list for this year, and I feel so rich and blessed that there is absolutely nothing I couldn't do without on that list, or frankly, anything I need. Nice to have stuff, for certain, but nothing I” really" need.
We are all so fortunate here. Even those with only a little in our great country mostly have food and shelter, there are few if any $750 annual incomes in the USA.
I have great friends. I have a great bunch of folks I do volunteer work with. It is a labor of love, brought about by personal experience. We will not benefit by it, but our families and our kids certainly will. And other folk's kids, and in the end, society in general, with better outcomes for kids, and lower taxes chasing the social pathologies we hope to eliminate.
We give our time freely, and for that great bunch of men and women I am thankful.
I have memories of some opportunities I have been blessed with I would like to share. This list is not exhaustive. The heck with meeting Gerald Ford, Ronald Reagan, Slick Willie Clinton and their ilk. I am more impressed with a little old lady in Mission BC that I had the fortune to visit with along with my friend, Sara on a few Christmas Days in years past, when our kids were with their other parents. It was her "extra" grandma. Nice old lady, told great stories, and she always referred to me as Sara's husband, so it was nice to get a promotion once a year.
She made blankets for the troops during the war, World War II for you younguns, had a sharp mind, could even remember her operator number that was sewn in each blanket. One time, we went up, without calling first (Sara used to roll like that, probably still does. She would have been comfortable being of age in the 60's) and the house was dark. I was fearful she may have died, but the neighbor confirmed that she fell, and was in a nursing home in Port Coquitlam.
Down the road we went.
She was there only a week, but could tell you how many minutes until the next bus came by, just from looking out the window during her week's stay. I want to be like her when I get old. Sharp as a tack. I really don't know why I am still impressed, but it was truly a blessing to be able to meet her, and to have a road trip with great company on a day that otherwise may have been a bit of a downer, without the kids.
When we had the grocery stores in Tacoma, all the big chains, and the small ones were closed, save for ours on Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a "superette", which means a small supermarket, with meat and produce. It was such a delight to hear folks thank us for being open, with stories about relatives they didn't think would come, but did, and they, without proper holiday dinner food, but we provided for them, and contributed to their family enjoyment.
Yup, that is the sort of thing that I am thankful for, along with the fact I really have all I need.
My sincere wish is that you take a moment, and no matter what your station in life right now, find some simple things as I did, and reflect on their richness, and recall the joy that they brought you.
That is it; I said there was not a plot, or a start or end.
Best for the holidays, keep up the good fight, and be blessed with riches, as to your needs.
I actually had some time to reflect today, and here are the results of that reflection. Yes, this is random thoughts, so don't look for consistency.
I was walking into the house, past the garden hose hanging by the garage. Nice hose, got it for Christmas last year. Was there anything wrong with the old one? No, shorter, smaller diameter, kinked up sometimes, but it was faithful in delivering water to the end of the nozzle. The boys asked what I wanted so I told them 75 foot, anti-kink, 5/8 inch flexible hose, and it showed up.
I looked over my list for this year, and I feel so rich and blessed that there is absolutely nothing I couldn't do without on that list, or frankly, anything I need. Nice to have stuff, for certain, but nothing I” really" need.
We are all so fortunate here. Even those with only a little in our great country mostly have food and shelter, there are few if any $750 annual incomes in the USA.
I have great friends. I have a great bunch of folks I do volunteer work with. It is a labor of love, brought about by personal experience. We will not benefit by it, but our families and our kids certainly will. And other folk's kids, and in the end, society in general, with better outcomes for kids, and lower taxes chasing the social pathologies we hope to eliminate.
We give our time freely, and for that great bunch of men and women I am thankful.
I have memories of some opportunities I have been blessed with I would like to share. This list is not exhaustive. The heck with meeting Gerald Ford, Ronald Reagan, Slick Willie Clinton and their ilk. I am more impressed with a little old lady in Mission BC that I had the fortune to visit with along with my friend, Sara on a few Christmas Days in years past, when our kids were with their other parents. It was her "extra" grandma. Nice old lady, told great stories, and she always referred to me as Sara's husband, so it was nice to get a promotion once a year.
She made blankets for the troops during the war, World War II for you younguns, had a sharp mind, could even remember her operator number that was sewn in each blanket. One time, we went up, without calling first (Sara used to roll like that, probably still does. She would have been comfortable being of age in the 60's) and the house was dark. I was fearful she may have died, but the neighbor confirmed that she fell, and was in a nursing home in Port Coquitlam.
Down the road we went.
She was there only a week, but could tell you how many minutes until the next bus came by, just from looking out the window during her week's stay. I want to be like her when I get old. Sharp as a tack. I really don't know why I am still impressed, but it was truly a blessing to be able to meet her, and to have a road trip with great company on a day that otherwise may have been a bit of a downer, without the kids.
When we had the grocery stores in Tacoma, all the big chains, and the small ones were closed, save for ours on Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a "superette", which means a small supermarket, with meat and produce. It was such a delight to hear folks thank us for being open, with stories about relatives they didn't think would come, but did, and they, without proper holiday dinner food, but we provided for them, and contributed to their family enjoyment.
Yup, that is the sort of thing that I am thankful for, along with the fact I really have all I need.
My sincere wish is that you take a moment, and no matter what your station in life right now, find some simple things as I did, and reflect on their richness, and recall the joy that they brought you.
That is it; I said there was not a plot, or a start or end.
Best for the holidays, keep up the good fight, and be blessed with riches, as to your needs.
Monday, October 27, 2008
SnoCo DV shelter changes name, but not tactics
Now calling themselves Domestic Violence Services of Snohomish County, instead of the Center for BATTERED WOMEN, becuase they want to serve men, yeah, right.
Note this from the business pages. Operative part below:
Cost is $15 plus an unwrapped gift or gift card for a mother or child
Guess the men and their children they now serve get bupkis.
Geezer OUT!!!!
http://www.heraldnet.com/article/20081027/BIZ/710279956&SearchID=73334242920869
Special eventsHelp the South Snohomish County Chamber of Commerce take a bite out of domestic violence with a lunch donated by Outback Steakhouse, from noon to 2 p.m. Nov. 19, at 10121 Evergreen Way, No. 15, Everett. Proceeds benefit Domestic Violence Services of Snohomish County. Cost is $15 plus an unwrapped gift or gift card for a mother or child. For information, call Julie Martin or Vicci Hilty at 425-259-2827. For information about Domestic Violence Services of Snohomish County, go to www.dvs-snoco.org.
Note this from the business pages. Operative part below:
Cost is $15 plus an unwrapped gift or gift card for a mother or child
Guess the men and their children they now serve get bupkis.
Geezer OUT!!!!
http://www.heraldnet.com/article/20081027/BIZ/710279956&SearchID=73334242920869
Special eventsHelp the South Snohomish County Chamber of Commerce take a bite out of domestic violence with a lunch donated by Outback Steakhouse, from noon to 2 p.m. Nov. 19, at 10121 Evergreen Way, No. 15, Everett. Proceeds benefit Domestic Violence Services of Snohomish County. Cost is $15 plus an unwrapped gift or gift card for a mother or child. For information, call Julie Martin or Vicci Hilty at 425-259-2827. For information about Domestic Violence Services of Snohomish County, go to www.dvs-snoco.org.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
King County (Seattle) Sheriff Sue Rahr wants to hear from the sheeples, unless it is about DV
There was an article on Monday, in the Seattle P-I fishwrapper, about finding missing persons using cell phone records. Sorry, the on-line version was cut down and doesn’t have the quote about "we don't want to assist perps in finding their DV victims".
Now the story had nothing to do with DV, she inserted that little bait.
So, having a "relationship" with her Spinmeister, Sgt. John Urquhart, I wrote him a note, and copied her (text below) on what I thought of that.
I thought the note was fairly complimentary, but not the evil Sheriff Susan Rahr, who is in bed with the DV Divas, and their FLEAS© (That is Family Law Elitist Attorneys).
Bottom line, she thought she was replying to Herr Urquhart, but instead, sent it to the Geezer.
Now we know what the pols think of us, when we take the time to write at their invitation, and tell them what we think.
Oh, and that is really her desk phone number in her signature line.
----- Original Message -----
From: Rahr, Susan
To: The Geezer
Sent: Monday, May 05, 2008 2:06 PM
Subject: RE: Two things, two emails, this is the first
Who is this jerk?
Sue Rahr, King County Sheriff
516 3rd Ave.
Seattle, Wa. 98104
206-296-4155
From: The Geezer
Sent: Monday, May 05, 2008 7:49 AM
To: Urquhart, John
Subject: Two things, two emails, this is the first
Your boss did a nice job with the press on the cell phone tracking article this morning. No doubt due to your working with her, to give her just the right words.
You can tell her that I said so.
And I don't say nice things about her that often.
However, (a good friend told me to always ignore everything before the words however or but) her dragging the canard DV into it really detracted from the piece......from memory.....'we don't want to reunite an abuser with his victim'.......
So, I can make a public records request, or you can just tell me. How may times, over what time frame (last year or last two years) have there been requests that you determined were an abuser chasing down the victim of DV requesting you track them down via cell records??
Yeah, that is what I thought.
The Geez
FLEAS © Lisa Scott
Now the story had nothing to do with DV, she inserted that little bait.
So, having a "relationship" with her Spinmeister, Sgt. John Urquhart, I wrote him a note, and copied her (text below) on what I thought of that.
I thought the note was fairly complimentary, but not the evil Sheriff Susan Rahr, who is in bed with the DV Divas, and their FLEAS© (That is Family Law Elitist Attorneys).
Bottom line, she thought she was replying to Herr Urquhart, but instead, sent it to the Geezer.
Now we know what the pols think of us, when we take the time to write at their invitation, and tell them what we think.
Oh, and that is really her desk phone number in her signature line.
----- Original Message -----
From: Rahr, Susan
To: The Geezer
Sent: Monday, May 05, 2008 2:06 PM
Subject: RE: Two things, two emails, this is the first
Who is this jerk?
Sue Rahr, King County Sheriff
516 3rd Ave.
Seattle, Wa. 98104
206-296-4155
From: The Geezer
Sent: Monday, May 05, 2008 7:49 AM
To: Urquhart, John
Subject: Two things, two emails, this is the first
Your boss did a nice job with the press on the cell phone tracking article this morning. No doubt due to your working with her, to give her just the right words.
You can tell her that I said so.
And I don't say nice things about her that often.
However, (a good friend told me to always ignore everything before the words however or but) her dragging the canard DV into it really detracted from the piece......from memory.....'we don't want to reunite an abuser with his victim'.......
So, I can make a public records request, or you can just tell me. How may times, over what time frame (last year or last two years) have there been requests that you determined were an abuser chasing down the victim of DV requesting you track them down via cell records??
Yeah, that is what I thought.
The Geez
FLEAS © Lisa Scott
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Gasp! Did he really wear a pix of a pole dancer on his shirt to a public meeting?
-702733.jpg)
Here's a pic of one of the guys who is very supportive of children as well as supporting changes in the Washington Child Support guidelines and custody arrangements in
Who is he anyway? Looks kinda like that Geezer guy that runs this blog.
WSDOT pisses away more of your highway dollar. This time to save the little fishies
Dem boyz at the Transportation Department musta got a new shipment of fine weed and been inhalin'.
Now they spend $300K on lighting the path underwater for the little fishies.
Yep, lights under the PT ferry dock (or at least when it runs ferry dock) to keep the little buggers from being scared.
Read it in the top link. Really, this is so weird I couldn't make it up, really.
Here is what I think about it, and my response to their crowing and spinning.
Now they spend $300K on lighting the path underwater for the little fishies.
Yep, lights under the PT ferry dock (or at least when it runs ferry dock) to keep the little buggers from being scared.
Read it in the top link. Really, this is so weird I couldn't make it up, really.
Here is what I think about it, and my response to their crowing and spinning.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Seems the Geez outed some judges
Seems the Geez outed some judges
READ THE LETTER TO THE EDITOR IN THE EVERETT HERALD HERE
Stinky things been doin' in Snohomish County Courts.
Records kept in the Administrator of Courts, not in Clerks office.
Records deemed to be "administrative" and kept only 6 months, instead of six years
Records charged for as "real" court records, even though they claimed them to be administrative. They should have been charged for at "public records" rates, of a buck or two, not $25 each.
Records anointed as "not to be used as court records", yet the same court accepted them as court records.
Money for payment of copies (CD's) not receipted with numbered receipts--violation of state audit rules, and only cash taken
Handwritten petty cash fund checks written for "picnics", "camp fees", and "Nike athletic shoes", none of which is a legitimate expenditure of your hard earned tax dollars.
A commissioner's wife is the Court's public disclosure officer, and custodian of the CDs. No appearance of conflict of interest there, nosireebob.
Their response:
Ok, you caught us, we will move them back to the Clerks office and keep for six years.
No, we are not going to turn ourselves in for destroying court records without permission, and prematurely, tough.
We changed them back to be "real" court records.
We went neener-neener, and turned off the recording devices in the Commissioner's Courts, just for spite. No public policy reason, or no reason at all, or rationale, was given for letting the expensive recording equipment gather dust, instead of recording the public's business.
We have no concern about the appearance of conflict of interest in having the commissioner's wife be the public records office, and keeper of the CDs.
Important to note that they DO record Juvenile and Mental Health proceedings in front of Commissioners, but NOT family court.
Save for traffic tickets, the majority of Joe and Sally Sixpack's doings in the court are in family court. Yet your elected politicians will not engage with the great unwashed masses (me) in dialogue about their court administration, but instead send me to their patronage appointee who is the Court Administrator. He is accomplished at shoulder shrugging, and throwing his predecessor under the bus, but fairly worthless as to answering questions otherwise.
Do we not expect our friggin' JUDGES to follow the law? And to be accountable for their actions, and protect the public interest, by recording their courtrooms like thirty-seven out of the thirty-nine counties do?
I guess that is too much to ask.
Full letter to the editor published in the Everett Herald today, reproduced below.
The Geezer
Proceedings are no longer recorded
Jim Haley's excellent article on the issues in South County courts is only a part of the problem with Snohomish County courts. (Wednesday, "Court workers make discontent public.")
The same attitude is found at the Superior Courts, too. The Washington Civil Rights Council noticed that Commissioners Courts records were not being kept by the county clerk and were being destroyed after six months instead of six years, as required by law.
Several years ago, over Judge Wynne's signature, the court recordings were removed from the custody of the clerk to the court administrator's office, and deemed by fiat "administrative records" instead of the court records that they rightfully are.
When the Civil Rights Council brought this to their attention, the judges rightfully turned them over to the county clerk and pledged to keep them for the mandated six years.
The last few years of records were destroyed, contrary to state law, but the court is not concerned with this, according to a conversation we had with court administrator Bob Terwilliger.
In what appears to be retaliation, Judge Wynne turned off the recording machinery in the Commissioners Courts last month, leaving the good people of Snohomish County severely restricted in their ability to appeal the decisions made in Commissioners Courts. Upon inquiring of the judge why he did this, he did not have the courtesy to admit to receiving our communication.
Their hubris and lack of respect for folks who put these politicians in office, and their desire to keep their rulings in the dark and unavailable to the citizens, is repugnant and indefensible.
When added to their failure to issue numbered receipts when taking cash, as required by law, and their payment of public funds for disallowed uses such as picnics and athletic shoes, we also have serious doubt as to how these courts are run.
The Geezer
Director, Public Policy
Washington Civil Rights Council
Everett
READ THE LETTER TO THE EDITOR IN THE EVERETT HERALD HERE
Stinky things been doin' in Snohomish County Courts.
Records kept in the Administrator of Courts, not in Clerks office.
Records deemed to be "administrative" and kept only 6 months, instead of six years
Records charged for as "real" court records, even though they claimed them to be administrative. They should have been charged for at "public records" rates, of a buck or two, not $25 each.
Records anointed as "not to be used as court records", yet the same court accepted them as court records.
Money for payment of copies (CD's) not receipted with numbered receipts--violation of state audit rules, and only cash taken
Handwritten petty cash fund checks written for "picnics", "camp fees", and "Nike athletic shoes", none of which is a legitimate expenditure of your hard earned tax dollars.
A commissioner's wife is the Court's public disclosure officer, and custodian of the CDs. No appearance of conflict of interest there, nosireebob.
Their response:
Ok, you caught us, we will move them back to the Clerks office and keep for six years.
No, we are not going to turn ourselves in for destroying court records without permission, and prematurely, tough.
We changed them back to be "real" court records.
We went neener-neener, and turned off the recording devices in the Commissioner's Courts, just for spite. No public policy reason, or no reason at all, or rationale, was given for letting the expensive recording equipment gather dust, instead of recording the public's business.
We have no concern about the appearance of conflict of interest in having the commissioner's wife be the public records office, and keeper of the CDs.
Important to note that they DO record Juvenile and Mental Health proceedings in front of Commissioners, but NOT family court.
Save for traffic tickets, the majority of Joe and Sally Sixpack's doings in the court are in family court. Yet your elected politicians will not engage with the great unwashed masses (me) in dialogue about their court administration, but instead send me to their patronage appointee who is the Court Administrator. He is accomplished at shoulder shrugging, and throwing his predecessor under the bus, but fairly worthless as to answering questions otherwise.
Do we not expect our friggin' JUDGES to follow the law? And to be accountable for their actions, and protect the public interest, by recording their courtrooms like thirty-seven out of the thirty-nine counties do?
I guess that is too much to ask.
Full letter to the editor published in the Everett Herald today, reproduced below.
The Geezer
Proceedings are no longer recorded
Jim Haley's excellent article on the issues in South County courts is only a part of the problem with Snohomish County courts. (Wednesday, "Court workers make discontent public.")
The same attitude is found at the Superior Courts, too. The Washington Civil Rights Council noticed that Commissioners Courts records were not being kept by the county clerk and were being destroyed after six months instead of six years, as required by law.
Several years ago, over Judge Wynne's signature, the court recordings were removed from the custody of the clerk to the court administrator's office, and deemed by fiat "administrative records" instead of the court records that they rightfully are.
When the Civil Rights Council brought this to their attention, the judges rightfully turned them over to the county clerk and pledged to keep them for the mandated six years.
The last few years of records were destroyed, contrary to state law, but the court is not concerned with this, according to a conversation we had with court administrator Bob Terwilliger.
In what appears to be retaliation, Judge Wynne turned off the recording machinery in the Commissioners Courts last month, leaving the good people of Snohomish County severely restricted in their ability to appeal the decisions made in Commissioners Courts. Upon inquiring of the judge why he did this, he did not have the courtesy to admit to receiving our communication.
Their hubris and lack of respect for folks who put these politicians in office, and their desire to keep their rulings in the dark and unavailable to the citizens, is repugnant and indefensible.
When added to their failure to issue numbered receipts when taking cash, as required by law, and their payment of public funds for disallowed uses such as picnics and athletic shoes, we also have serious doubt as to how these courts are run.
The Geezer
Director, Public Policy
Washington Civil Rights Council
Everett
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Everett Herald lies about gender pay differences, AGAIN
So, a year or so ago, the Everett Herald spins that tired old story about wimmin' being paid less than men.
I went after them, they finally tell me that since it was a Job Fair section, it was advertising, not news, and that the content was written by Everett Community College.
Sheesh. So, they blow the Geez off, fine.
Now again, they see the AAUW report in the link above, and start salivating all over again.
Editorial opinion is opinion, fine, but I do expect those folks who buy ink by the barrel to do some research before forming their opinion.
So, the Geez takes electrons on fingertips, and writes some eloquent sheyt, as he is prone to do from time to time, to smack them down.
The editorial editor says, no, Geez, we have very important op-ed pieces coming up, and so you have to write a 300 word letter.
Their very important op-ed pieces included a verbatim Governatrix press release, which is spun daily and available on the Guv's website and a breast-beating puff piece by the Prez. of the Edmonds Community College. Either he is an illegitimate son of someone down at the Herald, or has some mighty fine pix of their dalliances, because he sure gets his oar in the water with his self-serving crap.
So, I write the publisher, who doesn't even give the courtesy of a reply. Just get a reply from the editorial editor that says you were way over in words.
Well, hell.
So, I thought you may enjoy that note to the publisher, which is below.
Enjoy,
The Geezer
Sent: Monday, May 07, 2007 9:16 PM
To: Allen Funk
Cc: Bob Bolerjack; Carol MacPherson; Elisa Teague-Cooper
Subject: Editorial policy at the Herald
Hello, Allen--
First, my bonafides.
I have been reading the Herald since there were block letters on top of the building, no Sunday paper and a row of VW Beetles out in front. Cruise the hallways, and you will see the picture still hanging in your building.
Second, you should know that I have been certified as a political gadfly by the King Co. Sheriff's Dept.
Occasionally I have a lucent and cogent thought.
The other day, after reading your editorial about women making 75 cents to a man's dollar came out was one of those times.
I fired off a smarmy letter, as is my habit, to Mr. Bolerjack, who, apparently in need of a round of verbal sparring, was considerate enough to ring me up.
As is my style, I suggested that his, and yours, by extension, analysis of the AAUW report was wrong, misleading and downright the result of drinking too much Kool-Aid from the misandric and hate-filled Wimmin's Industries.
I offered to write an op-ed, and was told, no, no, booked far in advance with too many very important articles for that. He did invite me to write a letter, which is very constricted to try and develop the issue. Nonetheless, I enlisted my colleague from the Washington Civil Rights Council, Elisa Teague-Cooper, and we knocked one out. It was not published.
I noticed over the next week that those very important pieces he had scheduled included a darn near verbatim press release from the Governatrix (new press photo here), which is available daily on the Governor's website and another breast-beating puff piece from Jack Oharah, who must be a stepson of someone down there, or if not, I want to see those pictures he must have of someone in your company!
Not what I would consider urgent issues of the day.
This is the second time the Herald has printed that (un)factoid. The first time was in a Job Fair supplement shortly after Ms. Iverson came on board, and when I tried to track that one down, the ad department didn't want to respond, and when they did, through Ms. Iverson's assistance, the deferred responsibility because that article was written by ECC folks. Of course, no where in the tab was there a disclaimer that it was a production of the ad, rather than news department.
So, turning smarmy mode off for a moment, hoping you are still reading, and understanding my warped sense of humor, let’s analyze that AAUW article that was used as the basis of your corporate opinion.
First, let’s apply Mark's acid test, shall we? If true, that you can pay a woman 75 cents to get the same work product you would pay a man to do, why hasn't an entrepreneur fired all the men, hired only women, and by the labor savings kicked the competition's ass?
Because, it 'taint true, Mr. Funk!
Now, running down the article, I offer the following, some of which I stole from those more articulate than I.
Equal Pay Day has become one of our annual rites of spring. This year the gender victimologists came armed with a new report from the American Association of University Women, Behind the Pay Gap, which purports to show that one year after graduation, women are paid 80% of what men earn.
The AAUW’s press release featured this startling statement: "Women earn less even when working in the same career field, likely due to sex discrimination." So no surprise, you trumpeted the 80% figure like it was revealed truth.
But women who are familiar with the AAUW’s long-standing gender agenda began to question the study.
Mary Kay Ham sardonically wondered why she, as a highly-educated columnist, should be paid less than a dime-a-dozen brain surgeon. To settle the issue, I suggest you download the report and see for yourself. I quickly noticed that the 80% figure is deceptive because it doesn’t take into account differences in work hours, occupational choices, commutes, danger (hence pay) of the job and other key variables.
When you do that, the wage gap shrinks dramatically. As the AAUW report finally admits on page 39: "The regression analysis of earnings one year after graduation for the combined sample of women and men shows a gender pay difference of 5 percent, controlling for educational and occupational choices as well as demographic and personal characteristics."
But it turns out the AAUW study omitted a number of important factors in its analysis, so even the 5% figure is exaggerated.
For example, many men coming out of high school enter the military and later go to college. These men command a bigger paycheck upon graduation. Likewise, men tend to accept big-city jobs with longer commute times. But the AAUW glossed over those facts.
Of greater concern is how the AAUW shoe-horned the many thousands of jobs into 11 broad occupational categories.
For just one example, take the medical profession which is evenly divided between the sexes, compared to nursing which is overwhelmingly female. The AAUW lumped all doctors and nurses into the same "medical professions" group. So you guessed it -- doctors are paid more than nurses, and that’s discrimination!
And women who major in business administration gravitate to HR, while men often specialize in finance. Employees who manage a corporation’s financial lifeblood tend to be paid well. But the AAUW put both groups into the "business and management" category. Yikes, more discrimination!
This isn’t the first time the American Association of University Women resorted to smoke-and-mirrors research to further its political agenda.
Back in 1992 the AAUW published the report, How Schools Shortchange Girls. The report purported to show that American schoolgirls were being kept down by the ever-present patriarchy. Man, they make those guys sound so powerful, I want to go to their meetings, and join up, but I just can't find them anywhere.
Diane Ravitch, former assistant secretary of education, took issue with that conclusion, saying flatly, "The AAUW report was just completely wrong. What was so bizarre is that it came out right at the time that girls had just overtaken boys in almost every area."
To redeem itself, the AAUW finally came out with a second report. Gender Gaps: Where Schools Still Fail Our Children had to admit that "National data indicate that girls consistently earn either equivalent or higher grades than boys in all subjects at all points in their academic careers."
But that oops-I-goofed document could not reverse the hysteria generated by the first report, which fueled the passage of the Gender Equity in Education Act in 1994, a law that contributes to the boy crisis I first saw near the end of my 13 year service as a school board member, and that we’re now seeing fully developed in education.
Again, this pay gap myth is perpetuated by your editorial, as it was with the Job Fair insert. You demonstrated the same tactic that the misandric and hateful Women's Industry always uses, repeat the same lie, over and over, and eventually it becomes accepted as the truth.
See: Superbowl Sunday, Rule of Thumb, Hospital Emergency room admissions, the whole Title IX issue, and the like.
Is it too much to ask that you take more care in analysis and conclusions in your editorial positions?
And I know you buy the ink, not me, but is it unreasonable to expect that when a local boy has facts and figures that shine some light on the darkness of your conclusions that you do not print even a letter to the editor? A letter signed by me and my colleague from the Washington Civil Rights Council?
Thanks for listening.
I went after them, they finally tell me that since it was a Job Fair section, it was advertising, not news, and that the content was written by Everett Community College.
Sheesh. So, they blow the Geez off, fine.
Now again, they see the AAUW report in the link above, and start salivating all over again.
Editorial opinion is opinion, fine, but I do expect those folks who buy ink by the barrel to do some research before forming their opinion.
So, the Geez takes electrons on fingertips, and writes some eloquent sheyt, as he is prone to do from time to time, to smack them down.
The editorial editor says, no, Geez, we have very important op-ed pieces coming up, and so you have to write a 300 word letter.
Their very important op-ed pieces included a verbatim Governatrix press release, which is spun daily and available on the Guv's website and a breast-beating puff piece by the Prez. of the Edmonds Community College. Either he is an illegitimate son of someone down at the Herald, or has some mighty fine pix of their dalliances, because he sure gets his oar in the water with his self-serving crap.
So, I write the publisher, who doesn't even give the courtesy of a reply. Just get a reply from the editorial editor that says you were way over in words.
Well, hell.
So, I thought you may enjoy that note to the publisher, which is below.
Enjoy,
The Geezer
Sent: Monday, May 07, 2007 9:16 PM
To: Allen Funk
Cc: Bob Bolerjack; Carol MacPherson; Elisa Teague-Cooper
Subject: Editorial policy at the Herald
Hello, Allen--
First, my bonafides.
I have been reading the Herald since there were block letters on top of the building, no Sunday paper and a row of VW Beetles out in front. Cruise the hallways, and you will see the picture still hanging in your building.
Second, you should know that I have been certified as a political gadfly by the King Co. Sheriff's Dept.
Occasionally I have a lucent and cogent thought.
The other day, after reading your editorial about women making 75 cents to a man's dollar came out was one of those times.
I fired off a smarmy letter, as is my habit, to Mr. Bolerjack, who, apparently in need of a round of verbal sparring, was considerate enough to ring me up.
As is my style, I suggested that his, and yours, by extension, analysis of the AAUW report was wrong, misleading and downright the result of drinking too much Kool-Aid from the misandric and hate-filled Wimmin's Industries.
I offered to write an op-ed, and was told, no, no, booked far in advance with too many very important articles for that. He did invite me to write a letter, which is very constricted to try and develop the issue. Nonetheless, I enlisted my colleague from the Washington Civil Rights Council, Elisa Teague-Cooper, and we knocked one out. It was not published.
I noticed over the next week that those very important pieces he had scheduled included a darn near verbatim press release from the Governatrix (new press photo here), which is available daily on the Governor's website and another breast-beating puff piece from Jack Oharah, who must be a stepson of someone down there, or if not, I want to see those pictures he must have of someone in your company!
Not what I would consider urgent issues of the day.
This is the second time the Herald has printed that (un)factoid. The first time was in a Job Fair supplement shortly after Ms. Iverson came on board, and when I tried to track that one down, the ad department didn't want to respond, and when they did, through Ms. Iverson's assistance, the deferred responsibility because that article was written by ECC folks. Of course, no where in the tab was there a disclaimer that it was a production of the ad, rather than news department.
So, turning smarmy mode off for a moment, hoping you are still reading, and understanding my warped sense of humor, let’s analyze that AAUW article that was used as the basis of your corporate opinion.
First, let’s apply Mark's acid test, shall we? If true, that you can pay a woman 75 cents to get the same work product you would pay a man to do, why hasn't an entrepreneur fired all the men, hired only women, and by the labor savings kicked the competition's ass?
Because, it 'taint true, Mr. Funk!
Now, running down the article, I offer the following, some of which I stole from those more articulate than I.
Equal Pay Day has become one of our annual rites of spring. This year the gender victimologists came armed with a new report from the American Association of University Women, Behind the Pay Gap, which purports to show that one year after graduation, women are paid 80% of what men earn.
The AAUW’s press release featured this startling statement: "Women earn less even when working in the same career field, likely due to sex discrimination." So no surprise, you trumpeted the 80% figure like it was revealed truth.
But women who are familiar with the AAUW’s long-standing gender agenda began to question the study.
Mary Kay Ham sardonically wondered why she, as a highly-educated columnist, should be paid less than a dime-a-dozen brain surgeon. To settle the issue, I suggest you download the report and see for yourself. I quickly noticed that the 80% figure is deceptive because it doesn’t take into account differences in work hours, occupational choices, commutes, danger (hence pay) of the job and other key variables.
When you do that, the wage gap shrinks dramatically. As the AAUW report finally admits on page 39: "The regression analysis of earnings one year after graduation for the combined sample of women and men shows a gender pay difference of 5 percent, controlling for educational and occupational choices as well as demographic and personal characteristics."
But it turns out the AAUW study omitted a number of important factors in its analysis, so even the 5% figure is exaggerated.
For example, many men coming out of high school enter the military and later go to college. These men command a bigger paycheck upon graduation. Likewise, men tend to accept big-city jobs with longer commute times. But the AAUW glossed over those facts.
Of greater concern is how the AAUW shoe-horned the many thousands of jobs into 11 broad occupational categories.
For just one example, take the medical profession which is evenly divided between the sexes, compared to nursing which is overwhelmingly female. The AAUW lumped all doctors and nurses into the same "medical professions" group. So you guessed it -- doctors are paid more than nurses, and that’s discrimination!
And women who major in business administration gravitate to HR, while men often specialize in finance. Employees who manage a corporation’s financial lifeblood tend to be paid well. But the AAUW put both groups into the "business and management" category. Yikes, more discrimination!
This isn’t the first time the American Association of University Women resorted to smoke-and-mirrors research to further its political agenda.
Back in 1992 the AAUW published the report, How Schools Shortchange Girls. The report purported to show that American schoolgirls were being kept down by the ever-present patriarchy. Man, they make those guys sound so powerful, I want to go to their meetings, and join up, but I just can't find them anywhere.
Diane Ravitch, former assistant secretary of education, took issue with that conclusion, saying flatly, "The AAUW report was just completely wrong. What was so bizarre is that it came out right at the time that girls had just overtaken boys in almost every area."
To redeem itself, the AAUW finally came out with a second report. Gender Gaps: Where Schools Still Fail Our Children had to admit that "National data indicate that girls consistently earn either equivalent or higher grades than boys in all subjects at all points in their academic careers."
But that oops-I-goofed document could not reverse the hysteria generated by the first report, which fueled the passage of the Gender Equity in Education Act in 1994, a law that contributes to the boy crisis I first saw near the end of my 13 year service as a school board member, and that we’re now seeing fully developed in education.
Again, this pay gap myth is perpetuated by your editorial, as it was with the Job Fair insert. You demonstrated the same tactic that the misandric and hateful Women's Industry always uses, repeat the same lie, over and over, and eventually it becomes accepted as the truth.
See: Superbowl Sunday, Rule of Thumb, Hospital Emergency room admissions, the whole Title IX issue, and the like.
Is it too much to ask that you take more care in analysis and conclusions in your editorial positions?
And I know you buy the ink, not me, but is it unreasonable to expect that when a local boy has facts and figures that shine some light on the darkness of your conclusions that you do not print even a letter to the editor? A letter signed by me and my colleague from the Washington Civil Rights Council?
Thanks for listening.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Thoughts about President Ford, and a story
I have been very fortunate to meet several US presidents. Ford, Reagan, Clinton, and shrub (lower case intentional)
I met President Ford when he was just a congressman from Michigan. He must have been some substantial congressman, as he was on a speaking tour, including Pullman. As fate would have it, a high school buddy, fellow Boy Scout, and pilot later to fly for United had been engaged to fly him around the state, first to Wenatchee, then to Pullman.
Since my bud had to cool his heels while Ford spoke, and since I was attending school at WSU, he called me up to entertain him for an hour or so.
I was at the Pullman-Moscow Regional Airport when they landed, and debarked. John was gracious in introducing me, and Ford seemed like a regular guy, real genuine. Just before he was hustled off by the WSU folks, he turned to me and said, “Mark, when I was in Wenatchee they gave me a box of beautiful apples. I will be on the road for the rest of the week, so will have a difficult time carting them around. Can you take them back, and hand them out to your friends?”
Well, sure, like college kids don’t like to eat.
A simple gesture from a regular guy, which was much appreciated.
Perhaps that was before politics was the hardball game it is today, but I doubt it. I suspect that it was more an indication of the personality and graciousness of the man who was to one day become President.
The Geezer
I met President Ford when he was just a congressman from Michigan. He must have been some substantial congressman, as he was on a speaking tour, including Pullman. As fate would have it, a high school buddy, fellow Boy Scout, and pilot later to fly for United had been engaged to fly him around the state, first to Wenatchee, then to Pullman.
Since my bud had to cool his heels while Ford spoke, and since I was attending school at WSU, he called me up to entertain him for an hour or so.
I was at the Pullman-Moscow Regional Airport when they landed, and debarked. John was gracious in introducing me, and Ford seemed like a regular guy, real genuine. Just before he was hustled off by the WSU folks, he turned to me and said, “Mark, when I was in Wenatchee they gave me a box of beautiful apples. I will be on the road for the rest of the week, so will have a difficult time carting them around. Can you take them back, and hand them out to your friends?”
Well, sure, like college kids don’t like to eat.
A simple gesture from a regular guy, which was much appreciated.
Perhaps that was before politics was the hardball game it is today, but I doubt it. I suspect that it was more an indication of the personality and graciousness of the man who was to one day become President.
The Geezer
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
The Geezer's holiday wishes for others
Mark’s holiday wishes.
Ok, this isn’t my Christmas list, let's be clear about that.
One thing the Geez always wants to do, but never seems to get to it, is to just do some reflecting on life, and things in general. No, you won’t see any rants here, but you will see what I “see”, and what I wish for those things that I see.
The Geez lives in a trailer park, he likes to say. It really isn’t a trailer park, and he doesn’t live in a trailer. He lives in a 4-plex which is located in a trailer park. But, it isn’t even really a trailer park, but instead a residential RV park. Only about three real house trailers in here, the rest are either powered recreational vehicles, or recreational trailers, not made with longevity in mind, or designed for constant occupancy. If you are wondering, let the Geez edumacate you. A house trailer has no holding tank, an RV does.
This is not, to borrow a Tom Leykis term, your “prime demographic”. Some work, most are on the dole of some sort. Some have issues, like my convicted felon drug dealer neighbor, or my level three sex-offender neighbor. Not unlike the folks you live around, mine just admit to it.
So, what for these folks?
For Val, no allergies, and lots of junk to sell. For Carol, take your meds, honey, and life will be better, and less of a struggle for you. Mr. Ed, with your house trailer that can’t be moved, may this place not sell to someone who wants to build something else on it. Hope the lazy B keeps you employed sweeping floors for them. Keith, and Mattie, thank for the Christmas card, it means a lot coming from my neighbors. Mattie is the 40 pound—or so it seems—cat that was a stray, called Mattie because the cat was just a huge hair mat before Keith took him/her in.
Larry, well, he will do ok. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a stash-o-cash somewhere, under his mattress. Laney, who just left us to run off to Nawrleans with a guy she only met in person once, a happy, mutually fulfilling life, free of using others, mutual or not.
Gerald, glad you finally got on SS, dude. Tough to be single, alone, but keep up a good face, after being a laborer all your life, then finding no one wants to hire you when you get to your late 50’s. Nick, bless you Nick. Hope I see you often at the library, and you continue to grow, learn and investigate as you pass age 85. You are special. You are the only person I know who still has, and uses, a rotary phone.
For El Gato, the formerly stray cat, may I be able to give you love, and return the love and companionship you have shown me.
So, those are the neighbors.
My dear friends and family seem to be moving forward, Karen and Guinn, like an old married couple. Well they are, sort of. Diane and Keith, getting married at, uh, “over 65”. And fie on that person who mentioned at the reception, “what number is this for Keith? 4? 5?”
Actually, I think it is five, but who cares. If they get along, and they do, very well, good for them. Of course, the fact that Diane is still “hot” at 65, well, the Geez never thought he would say that about a 65 year old.
Yes, some folks I know and my family are getting along well. You know who you are, and I have fond wishes for you, too, but you probably need a bit less praying, attention, or whatever from me. You will do just fine, you know how the game is played, and have the tools to play with.
Lastly, for all the kids who don’t have a strong, frequent relationship with both parents, regardless of their parenting skills, I wish you continued involvement with both. There are lessons to be learned, both from “good” and “less skilled” parents. May you recognize the benefits of their hard work, perseverance, self-reliance, and benevolence.
Ok, this isn’t my Christmas list, let's be clear about that.
One thing the Geez always wants to do, but never seems to get to it, is to just do some reflecting on life, and things in general. No, you won’t see any rants here, but you will see what I “see”, and what I wish for those things that I see.
The Geez lives in a trailer park, he likes to say. It really isn’t a trailer park, and he doesn’t live in a trailer. He lives in a 4-plex which is located in a trailer park. But, it isn’t even really a trailer park, but instead a residential RV park. Only about three real house trailers in here, the rest are either powered recreational vehicles, or recreational trailers, not made with longevity in mind, or designed for constant occupancy. If you are wondering, let the Geez edumacate you. A house trailer has no holding tank, an RV does.
This is not, to borrow a Tom Leykis term, your “prime demographic”. Some work, most are on the dole of some sort. Some have issues, like my convicted felon drug dealer neighbor, or my level three sex-offender neighbor. Not unlike the folks you live around, mine just admit to it.
So, what for these folks?
For Val, no allergies, and lots of junk to sell. For Carol, take your meds, honey, and life will be better, and less of a struggle for you. Mr. Ed, with your house trailer that can’t be moved, may this place not sell to someone who wants to build something else on it. Hope the lazy B keeps you employed sweeping floors for them. Keith, and Mattie, thank for the Christmas card, it means a lot coming from my neighbors. Mattie is the 40 pound—or so it seems—cat that was a stray, called Mattie because the cat was just a huge hair mat before Keith took him/her in.
Larry, well, he will do ok. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a stash-o-cash somewhere, under his mattress. Laney, who just left us to run off to Nawrleans with a guy she only met in person once, a happy, mutually fulfilling life, free of using others, mutual or not.
Gerald, glad you finally got on SS, dude. Tough to be single, alone, but keep up a good face, after being a laborer all your life, then finding no one wants to hire you when you get to your late 50’s. Nick, bless you Nick. Hope I see you often at the library, and you continue to grow, learn and investigate as you pass age 85. You are special. You are the only person I know who still has, and uses, a rotary phone.
For El Gato, the formerly stray cat, may I be able to give you love, and return the love and companionship you have shown me.
So, those are the neighbors.
My dear friends and family seem to be moving forward, Karen and Guinn, like an old married couple. Well they are, sort of. Diane and Keith, getting married at, uh, “over 65”. And fie on that person who mentioned at the reception, “what number is this for Keith? 4? 5?”
Actually, I think it is five, but who cares. If they get along, and they do, very well, good for them. Of course, the fact that Diane is still “hot” at 65, well, the Geez never thought he would say that about a 65 year old.
Yes, some folks I know and my family are getting along well. You know who you are, and I have fond wishes for you, too, but you probably need a bit less praying, attention, or whatever from me. You will do just fine, you know how the game is played, and have the tools to play with.
Lastly, for all the kids who don’t have a strong, frequent relationship with both parents, regardless of their parenting skills, I wish you continued involvement with both. There are lessons to be learned, both from “good” and “less skilled” parents. May you recognize the benefits of their hard work, perseverance, self-reliance, and benevolence.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
This Aussie has it right!
Aussie Christianj, who blogs at What men think of Women, writes with great clarity. Here is today's gem, which I believe should be spread far and wide.
He writes:
Well, men aren't stupid, despite near-constant whinging to the contrary by women.
Men look at some of these women and say "Let's see: she expects me to earn more than she does, be her knight in shining armor, do the cooking, the cleaning, dress in bespoke suits and tuxes to go anywhere, listen to her constant, endless bellyaching about every little damn thing like one of her girlfriends and if I should marry her, when she gets into some midlife funk, she's going to sue for divorce and take half of my life's work and any kids we have."
The male mind then turns the gears for a little while, netting this out on the bottom line of life:"Nope. No sale."
You can read the whole magilla here:
http://whatmenthinkofwomen.blogspot.com/2006/09/ally-mcbeal-clones-are-out-there.html
He writes:
Well, men aren't stupid, despite near-constant whinging to the contrary by women.
Men look at some of these women and say "Let's see: she expects me to earn more than she does, be her knight in shining armor, do the cooking, the cleaning, dress in bespoke suits and tuxes to go anywhere, listen to her constant, endless bellyaching about every little damn thing like one of her girlfriends and if I should marry her, when she gets into some midlife funk, she's going to sue for divorce and take half of my life's work and any kids we have."
The male mind then turns the gears for a little while, netting this out on the bottom line of life:"Nope. No sale."
You can read the whole magilla here:
http://whatmenthinkofwomen.blogspot.com/2006/09/ally-mcbeal-clones-are-out-there.html
Monday, August 28, 2006
The Gub'mint need to 'splain it to me
Ok, the Geez reads in the Pee Eye fishwrapper that it is illegal to listen to your IPod on headphones while driving.
Fair enough.
However, they give driver's licenses to deaf folks. Now, not dissin' deaf folks, but either you need to hear, or you don't, to drive.
So, which is it, FU-WA? That is the Feminist Utopia of Washington, Governatrix Greg-wire, proprietor, to the uninitiated.
Also, the Geez like to communicate with nature in the summertime, all three days of it. Goes for these torture tests called hikes, on rocks and roots called trails.
Geez sweats like a stuck pig on said hikes, and likes to cool down when he is done. So, he likes to stop at the country store for a "road coke" (beer, to the uninitiated) on the way home. That would be one of the about four brewskis that the Geez ingests per anum. Now, Geez busts the law all to heck, if he sips it goin' down the road, like a Coca-Cola, but it is legal to stop in a tav, and chug it.
A beer in yer belly, is a beer in yer belly, with the same net effect on yer drivin'.
So, nanny-state, 'splain that one to me too.
Geezer out
Fair enough.
However, they give driver's licenses to deaf folks. Now, not dissin' deaf folks, but either you need to hear, or you don't, to drive.
So, which is it, FU-WA? That is the Feminist Utopia of Washington, Governatrix Greg-wire, proprietor, to the uninitiated.
Also, the Geez like to communicate with nature in the summertime, all three days of it. Goes for these torture tests called hikes, on rocks and roots called trails.
Geez sweats like a stuck pig on said hikes, and likes to cool down when he is done. So, he likes to stop at the country store for a "road coke" (beer, to the uninitiated) on the way home. That would be one of the about four brewskis that the Geez ingests per anum. Now, Geez busts the law all to heck, if he sips it goin' down the road, like a Coca-Cola, but it is legal to stop in a tav, and chug it.
A beer in yer belly, is a beer in yer belly, with the same net effect on yer drivin'.
So, nanny-state, 'splain that one to me too.
Geezer out
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Too bad it takes a Woman to say it to be taken seriously
Never heard of this woman who writes commentary for the LA Times, but she is spot on for mentioning this.
Thank her for speaking out by writing her here, and write the Times congrats for running this piece here.
Below, the article, and following that, the commentary of Harry Crouch, who you can write here, if you think he is effin' brilliant, which he is, sayeth the Geezer.
Shouldn't men have 'choice' too?
FOR PRO-CHOICERS like myself, Supreme Court nominee Samuel A. Alito Jr.'s position regarding spousal consent for abortion seems like one more loose rock in the ongoing erosion of Roe vs. Wade. Even those of us who are too young to remember the pre-Roe era often see any threat to abortion rights as a threat to our very destinies. We are, after all, the generation that grew up under Title IX, singing along to "Free to Be You and Me" (you know, the 1972 children's record where Marlo Thomas and Alan Alda remind us that mommies can be plumbers and boys can have dolls). When it comes to self-determination, we're as determined as it gets.
But even though I was raised believing in the inviolability of a woman's right to choose, the older I get, the more I wonder if this idea of choice is being fairly applied.
Most people now accept that women, especially teenagers, often make decisions regarding abortion based on educational and career goals and whether the father of the unborn child is someone they want to hang around with for the next few decades. The "choice" in this equation is not only a matter of whether to carry an individual fetus to term but a question of what kind of life the woman wishes to lead.
But what about the kind of life men want to lead? On Dec. 1, Dalton Conley, director of the Center for Advanced Social Science Research at New York University, published an article on the Op-Ed page of the New York Times arguing that Alito's position on spousal consent did not go far enough.
Describing his own experience with a girlfriend who terminated a pregnancy against his wishes, Conley took some brave steps down the slippery slope of this debate, suggesting that if a father is willing to assume full responsibility for a child not wanted by a mother, he should be able to obtain an injunction stopping her from having an abortion — and he should be able to do so regardless of whether or not he's married to her.
Conley freely acknowledges the many obvious caveats in this position — the most salient being the fact that regardless of how "full" that male responsibility might be, the physical burden of pregnancy and childbirth will always put most of the onus on women. But as much as I shudder at the idea of a man, husband or not, obtaining an injunction telling me what I can or cannot do with my own body, I would argue that it is Conley who has not gone far enough.
Since we're throwing around radical ideas about abortion rights, let me raise this question: If abortion is to remain legal and relatively unrestricted — and I believe it should — why shouldn't men have the right during at least the first trimester of pregnancy to terminate their legal and financial rights and responsibilities to the child?
As Conley laments, the law does not currently allow for men to protect the futures of the fetuses they help create. What he doesn't mention — indeed, no one ever seems to — is the degree to which men also cannot protect their own futures. The way the law is now, a man who gets a woman pregnant is not only powerless to force her to terminate the pregnancy, he also has a complete legal obligation to support that child for at least 18 years.
In other words, although women are able to take control of their futures by choosing from at least a small range of options — abortion, adoption or keeping the child — a man can be forced to be a father to a child he never wanted and cannot financially support. I even know of cases in which the woman absolves the man of responsibility, only to have the courts demand payment anyway. That takes the notion of "choice" very far from anything resembling equality.
I realize I've just alienated feminists (among whose ranks I generally count myself) as well as pro-lifers, neither of whom are always above platitudes such as "You should have kept your pants on." But that reasoning is by now as reductive as suggesting that a rape victim "asked for it." Yes, people often act irresponsibly and yes, abortion should be avoided whenever possible. But just as women should not be punished for choosing to terminate a pregnancy, men should not be punished when those women choose not to.
One problem, of course, is that the child is likely to bear the brunt of whatever punishment remains to be doled out. A father who terminates his rights, although not technically a deadbeat dad, has still helped create a kid who is not fully supported. And (in case you were wondering) there are dozens of other holes in my theory as well: What if a husband wants to terminate his rights — should that be allowed? What if a father is underage and wants to terminate but his parents forbid him? Should a father's decision-making time be limited to the first trimester? Should couples on first dates discuss their positions on the matter? Should Internet dating profiles let men check a box saying "will waive parental rights" next to the box indicating his astrological sign?
There's also the danger that my idea is not just a slippery slope but a major mudslide on the way to Conley's idea. If a man can legally dissociate himself from a pregnancy, some will argue, why couldn't he also bind himself to it and force it to term? That notion horrifies me, just as my plan probably horrifies others. But that doesn't mean these ideas aren't worth discussing. Though it may be hard to find an adult male who's sufficiently undiplomatic to admit out loud that he'd like to have the option I'm proposing, let alone potentially take it, I know more than a few parents of teenage boys who lose sleep over the prospect of their sons landing in the kind of trouble from which they'll have no power to extricate themselves.
And although the notion of women "tricking" men into fatherhood now sounds arcane and sexist, we'd be blind not to recognize the extent to which some women are capable of tricking themselves into thinking men will stick around, despite all evidence to the contrary. Allowing men to legally (if not always gracefully) bow out of fatherhood would, at the very least, start a conversation for which we haven't yet found the right words.
Actually, there's one word we've had all along: choice. We just need to broaden its definition.
Harry's comment follows:
Dear Editor,
Meghan Daum's insightful commentary "Shouldn't men have choice too" might
be enhanced with a bit of clarity.
Women's choices are pick a dad, abstinence, diaphragms, condoms,
spermicides, "The Pill", injections, implants, "Overnight Pill",
intrauterine device, abortion, adopt-out, keep baby, give baby away, sell
baby, auction baby, infanticide.
Men's choices are abstinence, condoms, invasive surgery, cash, credit
card, bankruptcy, prison, suicide.
Fairness and balance are long over due.
Harry Crouch
Director San Diego Men's Center
President PaternityFraudDNA.com
Thank her for speaking out by writing her here, and write the Times congrats for running this piece here.
Below, the article, and following that, the commentary of Harry Crouch, who you can write here, if you think he is effin' brilliant, which he is, sayeth the Geezer.
Shouldn't men have 'choice' too?
FOR PRO-CHOICERS like myself, Supreme Court nominee Samuel A. Alito Jr.'s position regarding spousal consent for abortion seems like one more loose rock in the ongoing erosion of Roe vs. Wade. Even those of us who are too young to remember the pre-Roe era often see any threat to abortion rights as a threat to our very destinies. We are, after all, the generation that grew up under Title IX, singing along to "Free to Be You and Me" (you know, the 1972 children's record where Marlo Thomas and Alan Alda remind us that mommies can be plumbers and boys can have dolls). When it comes to self-determination, we're as determined as it gets.
But even though I was raised believing in the inviolability of a woman's right to choose, the older I get, the more I wonder if this idea of choice is being fairly applied.
Most people now accept that women, especially teenagers, often make decisions regarding abortion based on educational and career goals and whether the father of the unborn child is someone they want to hang around with for the next few decades. The "choice" in this equation is not only a matter of whether to carry an individual fetus to term but a question of what kind of life the woman wishes to lead.
But what about the kind of life men want to lead? On Dec. 1, Dalton Conley, director of the Center for Advanced Social Science Research at New York University, published an article on the Op-Ed page of the New York Times arguing that Alito's position on spousal consent did not go far enough.
Describing his own experience with a girlfriend who terminated a pregnancy against his wishes, Conley took some brave steps down the slippery slope of this debate, suggesting that if a father is willing to assume full responsibility for a child not wanted by a mother, he should be able to obtain an injunction stopping her from having an abortion — and he should be able to do so regardless of whether or not he's married to her.
Conley freely acknowledges the many obvious caveats in this position — the most salient being the fact that regardless of how "full" that male responsibility might be, the physical burden of pregnancy and childbirth will always put most of the onus on women. But as much as I shudder at the idea of a man, husband or not, obtaining an injunction telling me what I can or cannot do with my own body, I would argue that it is Conley who has not gone far enough.
Since we're throwing around radical ideas about abortion rights, let me raise this question: If abortion is to remain legal and relatively unrestricted — and I believe it should — why shouldn't men have the right during at least the first trimester of pregnancy to terminate their legal and financial rights and responsibilities to the child?
As Conley laments, the law does not currently allow for men to protect the futures of the fetuses they help create. What he doesn't mention — indeed, no one ever seems to — is the degree to which men also cannot protect their own futures. The way the law is now, a man who gets a woman pregnant is not only powerless to force her to terminate the pregnancy, he also has a complete legal obligation to support that child for at least 18 years.
In other words, although women are able to take control of their futures by choosing from at least a small range of options — abortion, adoption or keeping the child — a man can be forced to be a father to a child he never wanted and cannot financially support. I even know of cases in which the woman absolves the man of responsibility, only to have the courts demand payment anyway. That takes the notion of "choice" very far from anything resembling equality.
I realize I've just alienated feminists (among whose ranks I generally count myself) as well as pro-lifers, neither of whom are always above platitudes such as "You should have kept your pants on." But that reasoning is by now as reductive as suggesting that a rape victim "asked for it." Yes, people often act irresponsibly and yes, abortion should be avoided whenever possible. But just as women should not be punished for choosing to terminate a pregnancy, men should not be punished when those women choose not to.
One problem, of course, is that the child is likely to bear the brunt of whatever punishment remains to be doled out. A father who terminates his rights, although not technically a deadbeat dad, has still helped create a kid who is not fully supported. And (in case you were wondering) there are dozens of other holes in my theory as well: What if a husband wants to terminate his rights — should that be allowed? What if a father is underage and wants to terminate but his parents forbid him? Should a father's decision-making time be limited to the first trimester? Should couples on first dates discuss their positions on the matter? Should Internet dating profiles let men check a box saying "will waive parental rights" next to the box indicating his astrological sign?
There's also the danger that my idea is not just a slippery slope but a major mudslide on the way to Conley's idea. If a man can legally dissociate himself from a pregnancy, some will argue, why couldn't he also bind himself to it and force it to term? That notion horrifies me, just as my plan probably horrifies others. But that doesn't mean these ideas aren't worth discussing. Though it may be hard to find an adult male who's sufficiently undiplomatic to admit out loud that he'd like to have the option I'm proposing, let alone potentially take it, I know more than a few parents of teenage boys who lose sleep over the prospect of their sons landing in the kind of trouble from which they'll have no power to extricate themselves.
And although the notion of women "tricking" men into fatherhood now sounds arcane and sexist, we'd be blind not to recognize the extent to which some women are capable of tricking themselves into thinking men will stick around, despite all evidence to the contrary. Allowing men to legally (if not always gracefully) bow out of fatherhood would, at the very least, start a conversation for which we haven't yet found the right words.
Actually, there's one word we've had all along: choice. We just need to broaden its definition.
Harry's comment follows:
Dear Editor,
Meghan Daum's insightful commentary "Shouldn't men have choice too" might
be enhanced with a bit of clarity.
Women's choices are pick a dad, abstinence, diaphragms, condoms,
spermicides, "The Pill", injections, implants, "Overnight Pill",
intrauterine device, abortion, adopt-out, keep baby, give baby away, sell
baby, auction baby, infanticide.
Men's choices are abstinence, condoms, invasive surgery, cash, credit
card, bankruptcy, prison, suicide.
Fairness and balance are long over due.
Harry Crouch
Director San Diego Men's Center
President PaternityFraudDNA.com
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