Leafless Desert of the Mind

It's all about celebrity, isn't it? Politics, I mean. This whole idea that people evaluate the candidate's stand on the issues before making their decision is a lot of bunk, if you ask me. I don't even buy the notion that it's the media's fault for obsessing over the "horse race" to the detriment of the voter's "need to know". More bunk. If voters cared about issues then that's what the news broadcasts and newspapers would cover.

People care about celebrities - film celebrities, music celebrities, sports celebrities, and even political celebrities. We want to know is who's hot and who's not, hence the horse race that people complain about. Yeah I know, what other earth-shattering revelations have I got for you tonight.

Well, the only reason I'm broaching the topic is precisely because of all this issues stuff - you know, health care, taxes, gasoline, the War - what the younger generation would call "boring, old-people" news. That's what they call it - I heard it on a podcast. According to the guy on the podcast, what the youth of today wants is "fun" news, which, when you think about it, is really all that anybody wants from their news reports, isn't it? The youth of today is no different than anyone else in that regard, just more honest.

Think about it. What made JFK so special? He was fun. Ronald Reagan? Always cracking with the jokes. Richard Nixon? Well, he was just no fun at all. So with that in mind, I thought I'd turn my attention to our current candidates and ask the question I'm sure is on everybody's mind -

"If life was an opera, what operatic character would our candidates be?"

Great question, and lucky for you I've got a few ideas. First let's look at John McCain. Although the Democrats would probably cast him as Mephistopheles, I think that's going a bit far. Dick Cheney, maybe, but not John McCain. McCain is more like Don Carlo, I think. A bravado character, full of loyalty, brotherhood and gusto, a "man's man" with a strong sense of righteousness. That sounds more like McCain, although the part about being in love with his stepmother is probably a stretch. Other than that though, I'd say McCain is definitely the Don Carlo type. Dio, che nell'alma infondere!

Okay, how about Obama? Well, that seems pretty obvious. The callow youth who turns away from evil and returns with the holy spear to heal our nation's wounds and bring redemption and salvation to a destitute and forlorn. Obama is Parsifal, my friends, come back to us to reveal the grail and restore all hope and purpose. The prophets told us of his coming, and now the prophecy's come true. Yes indeed, and this is the decision we must make. Will we choose the strength of Don Carlo, or the innocent virtue of Parsifal? Well, I don't want to spoil the election but if you've seen the operas then you know who became king, and who was summoned to the tomb. Geez, let's hope the drama doesn't get that intense.

But enough politics. We haven't even had the conventions yet and I'm already sick of this election. Can you believe they've been campaigning since last year and it's still going on? It's worse than the Academy Awards.

Well, anyway, not to change the subject but I was watching the TV the other night and they've got this show on called Nature. I don't know if you've seen it. It's one of those wildlife shows, you know, with the pretty sunsets and the telescopic slo-mo's of animals bonding and frolicking in their struggle for survival out in the great untamed wilderness.

I'll admit I'm a sucker for that kind of stuff, and this particular show was called "What does the female want?", the premise being that by studying the mating rituals of the animal world we can come to a better understanding of our own natures. At least I think that's what the premise was, and it all seemed more than a little bit ridiculous to me. Think about it. Is there a single human on this planet who can relate to a concept like that? Of course not, and these biologists and zoologists are fools if they think we can. The important question for the human species, and trust me on this all of you scientist people, has never been what does the female want, but rather what will the female settle for. If the male human spent all his energy self-consciously trying to be everything that the female human wants him to be, there would be nothing but a bunch of desperate, defeated males and hopelessly disappointed females left to carry on the species. Then again, that does kind of sound like some marriages I've seen.

So, like I said, I'm watching this show and there's some lady putting a stuffed female wood grouse on a little train and wheeling it in front of a male wood grouse to see what the male will do, and the male wood grouse starts calling and strutting because he's hard up and doesn't know the female wood grouse is a fake. When I saw that I just thought "So what?. What is that supposed to teach us?" I mean, if you bought an inflatable human female doll and put it in front of a lovesick human male, you'd get pretty much the same result, wouldn't you? Well he might not buy it a drink or ask it to dance, but he might try to mate with it.

Anyway, the whole show was like this, and it was late and I started to nod off, and then suddenly I woke up and looked at the TV and found myself looking at a video of two spiders, well, you know...you know. I mean they were doing it right there on my TV, and I'm thinking "Is this what I've been reduced to? Is this what we've all been reduced to? We've split the atom, we've mapped the genome, we've walked upon the surface of the moon, and now we have nothing better to do with our science that watch a couple of spiders exchange genes?"

People, what is wrong with us? That's what I'm trying to say. Is there nothing left to ponder? Are we so sophisticated and advanced that the universe lost it's wonder? Are our celebrities all we have left to inspire and excite us? Do they alone matter, because without them all we can do is sit around and watch spiders ----? \\

The keenest pangs the wretched find
Are rapture to the dreary void,
The leafless desert of the mind,
The waste of feelings unemployed.

-Byron

Opus 1 No. 2

Have you ever gotten a song in your head that you just can't get rid of? All day yesterday I kept hearing this old Neil Young song rattling around my brain, so instead of letting it drive me crazy I decided to sit down at my computer and record it instead. For those of you keeping score, this is now exactly my second computer music project, and although the bar was set pretty low by the first one, I think little by little I'm getting the hang of it.

Like I said it's an old Neil Young song, and I even recorded some vocals. Unfortunately they're my vocals. It's a shame, too, because except for my off-key warble it's not that bad of a mix. However, if I may plead my case, let me just say that anyone who's ever heard Neil Young sing shouldn't be so quick to judge. How much worse could my singing be than Neil Young's? Take a listen and you'll find out.

The mix itself is a whopping 9 tracks and I created eight of them myself, the exception being the ocean waves track that I pilfered from Garageband's built-in library. Other than that there are 3 keyboard tracks, 3 guitar tracks, 1 vocal track and 1 drum track. Once again the drum track was a big headache, and I now understand why so many internet drummers farm-out their work to people willing to pay to get their mixes right. Believe me, the beginner soon learns that nothing will ruin a mix faster than bad drums. Take a listen and you'll find out.

So there you have it. I'm not posting this to prove what a great musical genius I am. Rather, I post it as a public service to those of you who would like to try to record your own music but feel intimidated by some of the really good stuff that others are doing. After just one listen to this song I'm sure you'll soon rest easy and think to yourself "Geez, I can come up with something better than that piece of crap."

And indeed you can. The song is called Midnight On The Bay and Neil Young released it at least 25 or 30 years ago. I apologize for the vocals but that David Cook guy was busy doing American Idol, so I had to step in.




Midnight On The Bay

He's a One Man Band

Yes. After much fiddling around I finally managed to accomplish something with Garageband. That's the music software that ships with the Apple Macintosh, and yeah, I know, it's so easy anyone can use it, but let me remind you of a couple of things: First, I'm an old guy and I've never used a sequencer before, and second, I put my guitar down for about 25 years before picking it up again a couple of years ago and I'm still a little rusty. So cut me some slack dude, and quit harshing my buzz.

Anyway, the file is down below, and frankly it sucks. That said, I created all four of the tracks myself, so I'm feeling pretty proud of it. There's a rhythm guitar track (that was easy), there's a keyboard part (nothing fancy so that was easy too), a drum part (that was impossible. I had to turn the mix down real low on that one), and finally a screeching lead guitar part that I must apologize for. I guess I was so concerned that I had the other three parts right that I sort of let that one get away from me.

But there it is. It definitely needs tightening and some vocals, but it's my firstborn and I wanted to share it with the world, even if it is a little premature. As long as you don't expect too much and are cool with the fact that I really put the "ham" in "hamateur" on this one, you just might be able to sit through it. Either way, I don't care. I'm just so stoked on this whole home studio revolution that I can't wait to try out all kinds of new things.

The song is the classic Elmore James tune "Stormy Monday", but there are no vocals so you'd never know it. Like I said, I'm gonna try to add some vocals and redo the lead guitar so it's not running all over the place, and then maybe I'll have somethng really worth uploading. Until then, here goes...


Story Monday Jam


They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad
They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad
And Lord Wednesday's wasted, Thursday's all so sad.


The eagle flies on Friday, and Saturday I go out to play
The eagle flies on Friday, and Saturday I go out to play
On Sunday's I go to church, and I kneel down to pray


Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy on me
Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy on me
I've been trying, trying to find my baby, won't somebody send her home to me

Attack of the Pinnipeds

In keeping with the local tourist theme, here are some pics from my trip to see the elephant seals at Ano Nuevo State Park. I bring you the sights, the sounds, but thankfully not the smells. Should you go? Well, if the sight of blubber on the beach flips your switch, then go for it.


The California coast and wildflowers as seen from Ano Nuevo



When they're not lying around, elephant seals like to fight. Here are two males getting it on.




With cuties like this around, it's no wonder that the boys have got their dander up. Those lips, those eyes - she's the belle of the beach.



Tragedy strikes. A dead pup lies belly up in the sand.



Look real hard and you'll see a lone seal has staked a claim to this part of the beach - far, far from the madding crowd.




Boys! Boys! All this fighting. You're acting like a bunch of Democrats.






But fighting's not for this little guy. Ahhhhh...he's so cute.




Finally, a couple of videos. They were right side up when I uploaded them, but for some reason Youtube turned them on their side. Well, you get the idea.

I Think I'm Paranoid

Just when everyone was ready to write off the consumer, we come through again. No matter how high gas prices go or how low home prices sink, Americans just want to go shopping. At least that's what the numbers say, and we all know the numbers never lie.

The numbers were brought home to me the other day when I went for a ride through the tony town of Woodside, California. Woodside is a small town up in the redwoods and is home to many of valley's well-to-do, like Gordon Moore and Larry Ellison as well as Michelle Pfeiffer, Neil Young and others. So here we are with gas predicted to reach $5.00 or more per gallon, and yet judging by the number of SUV's on the road you'd never know that gas prices were putting a dent in anyone's wallet up in Woodside. The local gas station had regular on sale for $4.15 per gallon, which had to put the price of a filling up one of those behemoths somewhere north of $100.00 per tankful, yet no one seemed distressed at all. In fact, riding through town felt like riding in the middle of the Russian May Day parade with all the tanks and heavy armor rolling down the street.

Which just goes to prove the point that the price of gas really only affects the poor and middle class. The rich could care less, and if it were practical to take a Lear jet from their front door to the grocery store I'm sure they'd do it, and not think twice about the waste. I guess that's the whole point of being rich, isn't it? You get to tell the whole world to piss off, and there's nothing they can do about it.

So anyway, I'm at this coffee shop called Peet's (you probably have them where you live) and I'm sipping a cappucino and just sort of browsing around the store, when I see this thing called a "double wall tea infuser". So naturally I think to myself "what the hell is a double wall tea infuser?", but instead of asking someone I just opened the box and took a look inside. You know what? It turns out a double wall tea infuser is nothing more than a glass cup with a little basket inside.

Now back in the old days we had these little tea baskets too, only we called them "strainers", and you could pick one up for about 50 cents at the local five and dime. But now, as if to prove the point that people wll buy anything as long as it's "scientific", Peet's is taking a cup and a strainer, repackaging them as "double walled tea infuser's" and selling them to poor unsuspecting suckers for 30 bucks a pop.

Geez, why didn't I think of that?

Of course they're not selling them to suckers, they're selling them to all of those tea gourmet's out there, and I'm sure these people will passionately insist that to make a really proper cup of tea you simply must use a high quality infuser. In fact, I bet some of these people look down their noses at Peet's double walled tea infusers and insist that "authentic" infusers come from England or Italy or something like that, and have to be imported and cost hundreds of dollars. I bet there are people like that. I bet you've met people like that. They live in places like Woodside and drive SUV"s.

Well, all I can say to those people is that I grew up in a Japanese household and probably a day never went by that my Japanese mother didn't make at least one pot of tea, and in all that time I don't ever remember her once asking me to go to the cupboard and fetch her a tea infuser. When mom made tea it was a very simple process. She took some tea leaves out of the can and put them in the teapot, poured in some boiling water, let it steep for about 5 minutes or so, and then poured it into a cup. I swear, as God is my witness, there was no infusion involved.

And after all, what's the big deal? It's just tea. I drank the stuff all the time when I was growing up and it's really no big deal. You find a way to make it the way you like it and that's about all there is to tea. It's not that complicated, people. But of course nowdays everyone has to take things so seriously and be so scientific about everything. They have to buy tea books and take tea classes and learn about all the different tea varieties and have tea tastings and take tea notes and subscribe to tea magazines and then, I don't know, write a thesis or pass a tea test or something.

Ah, the world makes me crazy sometimes. It's just tea. You don't need "double walled tea infusers". Sheesh, what's next?

How about this. In San Jose there used to be a bowling alley called Fiesta Lanes. It was down on San Carlos Street and was in a shopping center next to one of the cities older suburuban neighborhoods. Well, as luck would have it there came a day when bowling wasn't as popular as it used to be, and a few years ago Fiesta Lanes shut down. The city was left with an empty lot and a derelict old building, and needed to find something to fill the space.

Not a problem because at that time the city (and the entire country) found itself in the middle of a wildly speculative real estate boom, and so it was decided to develop the property and build some high density housing on the site, with the stipulation that some of the housing units be set aside as BMR (below market rate) properties. The developer agreed and soon the construction began.

Seems perfectly reasonable so far, except for one thing: they forgot to ask the neighbors. Right from the beginning the project was beset by complaints from neighboring homeowners concerned about the noise created by the construction and the congestion that would result from building a high density project in their backyard, so to speak. Finally, last week things really came to a head when the developer sent letters to some of the neighbors informing them that, according to a recently completed survey, their properties were encroaching onto the developer's lands, some by as much as ten feet.

Well, the story made it into the local paper, and the only reason I'm mentioning it here tonight is because of what the locals said to the reporter who went out to get community reaction for his article. Sure, they were upset that the developer was threatening to tear down fences and take some of their property, but what really incensed people about the whole project was the "ghettoization of their neighborhood."

Remember those BMR units that the developer agreed to provide? Well, it seems the neighbors are afraid that BMR means that the wrong element (latinos, probably) would be moving into their neighborhood and bringing the criminal element with them. That's not surprising. Let's face it, there's a reason why cities build low income housing projects next to the freeway or the railyards and not in Malibu or Central Park West. It's called NIMBY.

The funny thing, though, wasn't the worried neighbors. It was finding out what qualifies as BMR in Silicon Valley. Mind you, out here a million dollar house is considered a fixer-upper and homebuyers don't think twice about writing a check to pay for that 5 or 6 million dollar home up in the hills, but when I found out that the BMR's that the developer was building would be selling for $500k, I had to shake my head and do a double-take. Only in Silicon Valley would a half of a million dollars to buy you a "ghetto" unit. Can you just imagine how destitute the poor unfortunates must be who can only manage 500 grand for a roof over their heads? And the children, the children...

All I can say is if you're planning to move out here, and it seems like plenty of people are, you better bring water (drought), insurance (earthquake, fire, flood), and lots and lots of cash.

Oh, and your SUV, of course.

Meet John Doe

As awful as it was to see Eight Bells break her ankles at the Kentucky Derby and then have to be euthanized right there on the track, I think the audience can at least take some comfort in knowing that things didn't turn out all bad for the young philly - at least she will be spared the agony of another month of Democratic primaries. Praise thee our Lord, thou art a most merciful God.

Not that I mean to demean the political process, mind you - the debating of issues, the arguing of positions, the constant probing of character - each candidate standing before the American people and presenting the qualities that prove their worthiness to command the ship of government. Democracy is truly a remarkable thing. However, enough is enough. After months and months of probing and all the "he said, she said", is there really anything left to say that hasn't been said already?

What's really frightening, though, and what I simply cannot understand is that even after all this time there are still some Democratic voters who are undecided. Can you believe that? Day after day, week after week, month after month, and you're still undecided? Do you really think that there is stilll something we don't know about these candidates that is going to tip your vote one way or the other? Personally, I think anyone who's still undecided after a year and a half of campaigning should be disqualified from voting. Period.

"Pardon me, are you a registered Democrat?"

"Yes I am."

"Are you planning to vote in the upcoming primary?"

"Yes I am."

"Great. Do you mind if I ask which candidate do you intend to vote for?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I'm still undecided."

"YOUR WHAT! After all this time? What the hell could you possibly not know about these candidates that hasn't been gone over at least a hundred times before?"

"Well, I'd like to hear their positions on inner city weed whacking and Burundian prison reform. The media's just been ignoring those issues."

"Really? You think the media hasn't reported just about every nuance and facet of these campaings till you're sick of hearing about it? Till you want to tear out your hair and scream? Till you want to grab some reporter by the throat and say 'can we just get on to the election already'?"

"You know I think they'd both make a good President, but..I don't know. I like Clinton, but then I like Obama too."

"You can't decide?"

"I don't know. I think I can decide."

"Ok, that does it. I'm gonna have to revoke your voting priveleges. A year and half and you still can't decide? That's unacceptable. Come with me, please. Did you bring a coat?"

"You know I wasn't sure if I should bring a coat today or not. I was wondering 'Is it going to be too hot for a coat, or if I don't bring one will it be too cold? Should I even bother coming down here today or should I just watch the election on TV? If I do come down here and bring a coat will I be sorry I did? Should I just wait at home to see what the weather's like and then decide if I should bring a coat or not? And if I wait at home then shouldn't I just watch it on TV and not worry about whether to bring a coat or not. Or maybe, if I don't have a coat and it's too cold then could I then go back home and watch it on TV? Would it better to bring a sweater instead? That way it wouldn't be heavy like a coat if it's too hot, but still enough to keep me warm if it's too cold. And if I stay home I could still wear a sweater in the house and that way if it's too cold I won't have to run the furnace but if it's too hot I...'"

"I swear to God. If you don't stop right now I'm going to put down this microphone and beat you up."

"What (hmmph)?"

"People like you have no business in the voting booth. You hear me? We've been at it for 15 months and you still can't make up your mind? That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard. That's it. I'm having you removed from the voting rolls. The American people can only wait so long for people like you to get a clue, and then it's time to move on. I know that's sounds harsh, but unless someone comes to a decision around here this election will never end."

"I can make up my mind, I just need more time, that's all."

"No. No more time. Time's up. Who's it gonna be?"

"Can't we have just one more debate?"

"No. No more debates."

"Isn't there any more dirt we can dig up? Have we checked out all the friends and family members?"

"No. No more dirt. Decide."

"Uh...um...er...oh, I can't. I can't. It's not fair. I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings."

"In politics there are always going to be losers. Now decide."

"I can't. I can't I tell you. You decide for me."

"I can't decide for you. You're the one who has to mark the ballot."

"Well, who does everyone else like?"

"Right now it looks like Obama's in the lead."

"Ok, then I'll do that, I guess. He's going to win anyways, right?"

"So that's it. You're no longer undecided?"

"No. I'll vote for Obama."

"Great. The voting booth is right over there."

"Oh, do I have to vote right now? Can't I go later?"

"No, you have to vote right now."

"But what if I vote for Obama and then decide I really like Clinton better. Shouldn't I wait until I..."

"Hey Tom. You mind coming over here a moment and holding this microphone for me."

Just Kickin' It

They want four bucks a gallon for gas, the security lines at the airport are moving slower and slower, the planes are all full of passengers and running late, and the trains...the trains? Sorry, I live in California, and we don't do trains. I really admire all of you road warriors out there, but I don't need the hassle and I can't afford the gas, so the only thing left to do is go local.

Luckily, there are lots of local sites to see out where I live. You know, beaches, redwoods, mountains, theaters and restaurants and all that. Today I decided to play local tourist and put up a quick little post, but instead of writing about the major attractions I decided I'd focus on a couple of local ones instead. So, I packed my little cameraphone in my pocket and off I went.

The first stop was the local gas station for a couple of gallons of gas and away I went up Mt. Hamilton Road. Mt. Hamilton is just east of the Silicon Valley and rises to a majestic height of 4,000 feet or so above the valley floor. To get there you take the only road going east, that being the aptly named Mt. Hamilton Road. The road is one of the last remaining links to the Valley's rural past and was originally built back in the 1870's by the County of Santa Clara for one specific purpose - to provide a means for James Lick to reach the top of the mountain where he could build his famous observatory. The road was finished and the observatory built, and ever since then the "chrome domes" have perched ominously atop the distant mountain.

It's approximately 30 miles from downtown San Jose to the Lick Observatory, but the drive is very demanding. Mt. Hamilton Road was originally built for horses and wagons, not automobiles, and careful drivers can plan on about a 2 hour drive to the top (although a raucous carful of drunken teenagers can usually make it in about 45 minutes, but that's a topic for another day). A more popular way to make it to the top is by bicycle, and on weekends it might be fair to say if that the cyclists outnumber the automobiles on Mt. Hamilton Road. Be forewarned, however, it's a narrow road and drivers need to keep an attentive eye out for cyclists, although their dorky looking cycling costumes make them pretty easy to spot.

I didn't take car or bike but rode my motorcycle up the mountain. As it turns out, this is probably not the best way to travel this road. There are parts where the road is open with the kind of swooping curves that bikers love, but for the most part the road is full of potholes and blind curves and tight, tight switchbacks. My bike is pretty nimble and light, and I can't imagine slugging it out through those switchbacks on some 700 pound hog. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then just walk out to some biker bar and ask one of the hairy gents with the prison tats stenciled on his head if you can borrow his Harley for a while. If he agrees then get on the bike and go out in the parking lot and do nothing but tight, low speed U-turns for about 45 minutes. That's the kind of fun you'd be having trying to slog your way up those switchbacks on a Harley.

Anyway, at the top of the Mountain sits the observatory. In total there are about 9 or 10 telescopes up there, but the Lick's claim to fame are the original 36 inch refractor and the 120 reflector. The public can view both telescopes, but the only one the public can actually look through is the 36 inch refractor, and then only during special public viewings.

I've been up to see the refractor around 4 or 5 times during my life, and actually looked through it once when I was a very young child. Even though it's nearly 150 year old, it's still an impressive piece of equipment. The telescope itself weighs in at around 7 tons, with an added 7 ton counterweight. Even at this enormous size, however, the telescope is so perfectly balanced that it can easily be maneuvered by hand.

Once you've seen the telescopes and visited the gift shop and taken in some of the views, then there's not much to do but come back down mountain. Along the way you'll pass Grant Ranch Park which has some of the best hiking and mountain biking trails in the valley, so bring your hiking boots if you feel up to the challenge. Another warning: Grant Ranch gets very hot and dusty during the summer, so bring lots and lots of water and try to hit the trails early in the morning.

When I got back to the valley I decided to take a little ride out to one of my favorite valley spots. For those of you who don't remember (or don't care), back in the sixties and seventies the City of Santa Clara had one of the most prestigious swimming clubs in the country, called, oddly enough, the Santa Clara Swim Club, which, in it's heyday, boasted probably the two most famous swimmers in the country - Donna de Varona and Mark Spitz.

The swim club is still very much alive, although not so much in the limelight as in it's former days. It sits rather nondescriptly behind the City Library, and other than the plaques on the wall and two very prominent pictures of De Varona and Spitz in the main entrance area, seems to make very little fuss about it's illustrious past. In fact it would be hard to call it a real tourist destination; it's really nothing more than a point of interest.

Still, back when I used to live out around there I used to love to walk over to the pool and think of all the Olympic history that got it's start right there. In fact I remember one afternoon I walked over and got to see Janet Evans swim an event. She didn't swim for the club, but she was there with the Stanford Swimming Team swimming some sort of mete. It was amazing. I didn't have to pay any admission fee or anything like that. I just took a seat in the bleachers and watched a world record holder and multiple olympic gold medalist swim a few races. Don't you wish sports was still like that?

That's my post.

Publish Or Die

Hello, and welcome to today's blog. You're really in for a treat this time because, after many phone calls and much intense negotiation, I'm really excited to announce that I'll be bringing you a live interview with presumptive Republican presidential nominee John McCain. Yes, you heard me right - a 'live" interview with Senator McCain, with the emphasis on "live". That's the trend these days, you know - blogging live while the event is taking place. It introduces a whole new dynamic to blogging because with live, as-it-happens blogging, the fact that I'm here blogging about something is now just as newsworthy as the event itself. At last the writer is of equal importance to the subject being written about, or, dare I say, maybe even more important? God, I love this modern age.

Anyway, I've got my MacBook and I'm now making my way to Senator McCain's hotel suite. Come along with me as I blog it "live".

That must be his room up there. I'll have to put down my computer for a moment as I make my way through security.

...

There, that was easy. Now, I'll just check in with the receptionist and let the Senator know I'm here.

"Hello, I'm here to see Senator McCain."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes, it's Myers. M-Y-E-R-S."

"Mr. Meyers, hmm...."

"No, Myers. m-Y-e-r-s."

"Of course. Mr. Myers."

"Yes, that's right."

"What organization are you with?"

"I'm a blogger. An independent voice for truth."

"Yes, one moment please."

(She's calling someone on the phone. Probably wants to verify my credentials.)

"Mr. Myers?"

"Yes?"

"I'm terribly sorry but the Senator is currently taking a nap. He won't be giving any interviews this afternoon."

"What?"

"I'm terribly sorry."

"He can't do that. I had an appointment. It took me two weeks to set this up. I'm blogging this live to the internet! What do you mean he's taking a nap?"

"The Senator has a very busy schedule. Perhaps..."

"Uh-uh. No way. You can't blow me off like that. Don't you know who I am? I'm the PRESS! The fourth estate. The voice of the people. You can't just turn me away and say you're sorry."

"Mr. Myers..."

"Do you know the kind of power I have? You're making a serious mistake here Ms. what's-your-name. A very serious mistake."

"Please, Mr. Myers. Hold your voice down. The Senator is trying to ..."

(A door is opening and now a tall, impeccably groomed man enters the room)

"Susan, what's going on out here?"

"This man says he has an interview with the Senator and I tried to explain to him that the Senator is not granting any interviews today."

(The man is turning and giving me his most genuine fake smile. Now he's holding out his hand and offering me a handshake. I compose myself and shake his hand)

"I'm Doug Peters, Senator McCain's assistant. Is there something I can help you with?"

"I had an appointment and now I'm being told that the Senator won't see me. It took me a long time to set this up and I..."

"I understand. Unfortunately Senator McCain has had a very busy day and a long night ahead and needs to get some rest right now. I'm really sorry about that, but if you call his office tomorrow morning I'm sure he'll be happy to reschedule for sometime next week."

"Next week? Reschedule? I can't reschedule. I'm blogging this live to the internet. Right now as we speak there are hundreds of millions of anxious voters eager to hear the Senator's positions on the important issues of the day. You can't reschedule that."

"Please, sir, calm down."

"No, you calm down."

"I'm always calm, Mr. Myers. I'm always calm, composed, and polite and I never perspire."

"Never?"

"Never."

"That's so smooth. I've never met anyone as smooth as you before."

"Thank you. Now, if you call the Senator's office tomorrow then..."

"No, I'm not calling anyone. I don't know who you think you're dealing with but I'll have you know that I'm a member of the press. You can't just sweep me under the rug and think that'll be the end of it."

"Are you making a threat, Mr. Myers?"

"No threat. Let's just say I have certain information. Certain information that if it were to be made public might prove rather embarrasing to the Senator."

"Oh, so now you're Walter Winchell or something, is that how it is? Please, don't insult the Senator's intelligence. This isn't 1953, Mr. Myers. It's 2008. If there were any damaging stories out there then you and I know that they'd be all over the internet by now. There are no secrets anymore, and no pretense of civility either, so let's stop playing games, shall we?"

(Damn, he's calling my bluff. This guy is so smooth)

"I have pictures."

"What kind of pictures?"

"High resolution pictures. No fakes."

"And just what's on these pictures?"

"Tell you what. Just check my blog later tonight and you can see for yourself. So long. It's been nice talking to you."

(He's hesitating. Ha, I finally managed to put a scratch in that glossy finish of his.)

"Wait right here."

"Is there a problem?"

(He's going back in the other room. Yeah, the good ol' pictures trick got him. I don't have any pictures, of course, but let's face it, everyone's done something they'd be embarrassed for anyone else to see. Even if there's a perfectly innocent explanation, no one wants to have it show up in pictures. Let that be a lesson to all of you budding young bloggers out there. Uh-oh, he's coming back)

"The Senator will see you, but you only have five minutes. Do we have a deal?"

"Sure. I don't want upset the Senator's schedule."

"Good. Come this way please."

(Alright, I'm finally going to get my interview, and it's going to be live on the internet. This is so cool. I just hope I don't get too famous when the buzz starts making the the rounds. My privacy is very important to me.)

"Have a seat. The Senator will be right with you."

(Hmm...nice place he's staying at. I wonder if we're paying for it or if the Senator's paying out of his own pocket for digs like these. Yeah right. Just bill it to the taxpayer's and have room service send up another bottle of champagne. Speak of the devil, here comes the Senator himself. He looks older without all of his television makeup.)

"Good afternoon Senator McCain. Thank you for seeing me."

"My pleasure Ms. Couric."

"Huh?"

"How are things at CBS?"

(Mr. Smooth interrupts)

"Senator McCain. This gentleman isn't with CBS."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was taking a nap and I'm afraid I'm still a little groggy."

"No problem", I say.

"Well then, which organization are you with, Mr., er,..."

"Myers, Senator, and I'm not with an organization. I'm a blogger, an independent voice of truth."

"Oh, I see."

"In fact I'm blogging this live over the internet as we speak."

"Is that so? I've never heard of live blogging before. This should be interesting."

"Shall we get started?"

"Yes, please."

"Senator McCain, you announced your new health plan today, saying that by increasing competition between health insurers we would make health coverage more affordable for all Americans. How so?"

"It's a simple fact that competition leads to lower prices. Under our current employer sponsered system, health insurers have little incentive to compete since employees are locked into using just one or perhaps two health insurers. Under my plan, we would do away with employer sponsored health plans and move to a more open marketplace where health insurers would be forced to compete with one another over who could offer the best coverage at the lowest prices."

"Your critics have said that your plan would, in effect, have the opposite effect. They say that health insurers would not compete for the most customers, but would instead only compete for the youngest and healthiest customers, leaving the sickest Americans with no coverage and no choices at all. How do you respond to that?"

"America has the finest health care in the world. What my opponents are proposing would be nothing more than a government health plan where the government makes health decisions, and not families."

(Oh brother, here we go. It's the oldest trick in the book. Instead of answering the question I asked he's answering the question that he thinks will work to his best advantage, and hoping that no one notices the difference. Well, I'm not just some rookie blogger and I'm certainly not going to let him get away with that.)

"You didn't answer my question Senator. Quit trying to change the subject."

"I certainly did answer the question, and I think the American people are with me on this. Do we want a government health plan? Do we want some bureaucrat in Washington making vital decisions for us, or should consult with our own doctors and make the decisions that are best for us? Under my health plan families and doctors would make those decisions, and not the government."

(Arrgh...he did it again.)

"Senator, your critics have said that your health plan is really no different than what we have now. In other words, it's a great plan as long as you're not unemployed, uninsured, or sick. If your young and healthy and don't need a health plan then it's great, otherwise you're in trouble because the health insurers don't want to have anything to do with you. What would you say to those critics and to those Americans with chronic, pre-existing conditions who are shut out of the current health care system? Under a universal health plan those people would be covered, but under your plan they'd be screwed. How can you justify a health care system that doesn't take care of the sick?"

(Ha, let's see him squirm his way out of that one)

"Of course we can always make adjustments to help those who cannot get health insurance, but we must also consider the cost. Competition is the only proven way to keep down costs. I believe that by having health insurers compete we can have a more efficient and more affordable health care system for all Americans."

(What did he just say?)

"You mean all healthy Americans, don't you."

"Competition, not big government, will bring down the cost of health care in this country."

(Ok, time to change gears. Maybe the confrontational approach will get something out of him)

"Senator McCain, you were never known as strict ideologue. In fact, in your years in the Senate you've earned the reputation of being somewhat of a maverick in the Republican party. Why are you so wedded to ideology on this issue? The health care system in this country is crazy. People with chronic diseases are not getting the treatment they need, families are facing financial ruin because of exorbidant medical bills, and yet the Republican party still clings to this belief that private health insurance companies, whose overriding incentive is to sell health insurance to those who don't need it and exclude those who do, are doing the best job possible for the American people. How bad does health care have to get before Republicans break with ideology and start looking at the way things really are in this country?"

"On the contrary, I think the Republicans are completely in tune with the American people on this issue. The fact is that most Americans love their health care plan. They don't want the government stepping in and tying up the system with red tape. It may be ideology, but it is an ideology grounded in the fundamental American values of independence and self-reliance."

(Damn, he's good. Now he's accusing me of being unpatriotic)

"Most Americans who have health plans love their health plans, but that's getting to be fewer and fewer Americans these days. You know a lot of employer's don't even offer sick days anymore, let alone health plans. The Republicans don't reflect fundamental American values, they reflect the new American values that say that health care is just another priveledge of the rich, and not a fundamental human right."

(Oh brother, now I sound like a whiner)

"As tempting as it is to believe it, government is not the answer. We can have a private insurance program that works. We must have a private insurance program that works."

"Is that the maverick speaking, or the idealogue?"

"If you'll excuse me I've got a dinner to attend tonight."

"Thank you for your time."

(The Senator has left the room, and now here comes ol' smoothie)

"Well you got your interview. Do you need help finding your way out?"

"Huh, some interview. Just the same old blah-blah-blah."

"What did you think? Did you think you were going to come here and make a reputation for yourself by making a fool out of the Senator?"

"Well...yeah. Isn't that how it's done?"

"The elevator is out that door and to the left. Oh, and by the way, don't let me see you around here again. As far as Senator McCain is concerned, your credentials have just been canceled."

(So that's it. My live blog is in the can and I'm no more famous now than I was when I got out of bed this morning. This journalism is a hard hustle, man, a hard hustle. It's just talk, talk, talk, and nothing ever changes. The rich get richer, the powerful gets stronger, and the independent voice of truth gets strangled and silenced. For all the upheaval it's created, the internet really changes nothing.)

The Duke of Braintree Finds His Guiding Light

"I must be off to Paris now. We cannot defeat the British alone, so I must secure the cooperation of the French."

"But father, what about us?"

"That cannot be helped. My country calls and I must answer her need."

"But what about our needs, father? What about your family?"

"It is not my wish to be away so far from home, but surely you understand I must go. Without aid from the French we are lost."

"Yes father, but at what cost? Is losing your family not too high a price to pay?"

"You look after your mother while I'm away. Be strong my son, as we all shall be strong, for the future or our nation depends on it."

(Oh, man, this John Adams miniseries is great stuff, isn't it? What other TV drama delivers such a mawkish blend of 5th grade history and primetime soap opera. You know, I think I'd like to try to write an episode myself. Just to see if I could do it. Maybe it'd go something like this. )

"I don't know what to say, Abigail. This has never happened to me before."

"It's alright John. You've been under a great deal of stress lately, that's all. You must try to relax."

"Relax? Relax!? While that scoundrel Hamilton sounds the drumbeats of war? He would destroy this nation with his wrackful war with France."

"John you must not think of such things. They tense you up and...and...well, you see what happens."

"For heaven's sake, I'm not a machine Abigail. What would you have me do?"

"Is there no word from Marshall? We may yet have peace with France. I know Thomas would like that."

"Oh would he? No more than to see himself in my place. I'm afraid no peace can salve the bruise which Mr. Jefferson's stubbornness has brought upon this nation."

"He is a man of principle and worthy of admiration. You cannot expect him to compromise his principles."

"No, but as a true patriot I can expect his support. I'm afraid all he has done is turn from me now when I need him the most."

"You speak too harshly of him, John. Surely, if you only understood..."

"You were always fond of Thomas. Too fond, perhaps."

"Don't be silly John. I merely said..."

"Those nights in Paris when you were away. You told me you were nursing a sick friend. Is that really where you were?"

"What are you saying? Do you think I..."

"Yes I remember now. Those walks in the garden, just the two of you. Him, charming as ever and you giggling like a little girl. I saw you two, but I never thought that..."

"Stop it John. I'll hear no more of this foolish talk. I've always like Thomas and have never kept that from you. We are friends, that's all."

"Is it?"

"Yes, friends and nothing more. It's not like you to be envious and jealous, particularly without cause. It's because Thomas favors the rights of states and you the need for a strong federal government that you torment me so."

"Tell me Abigail, and be truthful now. Is Charles really my son?"

(slap)

"He has another mistress. Did you know that Abigail?"

"You're a liar and a jealous old fool."

"No, it's true. Perhaps you've met her. She's the slave girl Sally Hemmings."

"Sl...Sl...Slave girl? Thomas would never...he is too honorable a man."

"Yes, the slave Sally Hemmings. What? Did he not tell you? The esteemed and honorable Mr. Jefferson forgot to mention that. Oh ho, that is rich."

"I've always been faithful to you John. Even on the darkness of nights, though my soul cried with loneliness, and you too busy to even write me a letter. You cannot know the suffering, and now to be paid so cruelly for my tears. What have I ever done to bring on such reprobation? Why do you treat me so?"

"My dear, suffering wife. It is not you. It is France. They would have us pay to ransom our peace. Such insults cannot be borne lightly, and the Congress would have me deliver our reply at the point of a sword, though such a reply would be our ruin. I am fairly vexed by this business and now find myself turning on you. Will you forgive me Abigail?"

(a knock comes on the door)

"Yes, what is it?"

"News from John Quincy, father."

"News? What news?"

(he opens the door and opens the letter)

"What is it John?"

"France has signed the treaty. There is to be peace between our two nations."

"Oh John, it is the news we have been waiting for."

"Yes. The nation is safe and I...I...I feel a new vigor."

"Do you mean..."

"Come here woman."

"Why yes, Mr. President."

Stay tuned for scenes from next weeks episode.

Elegy for the Living

 

Lament

 

What child was this

Who drank black waters

Lying stillborn, breathless

With blood no hotter

Than the cool lump of its unformed clay.

 

Though curiously not in its way lifeless,

Not dead

More a flightless

Bird, or head-

Less snake

Not perfectly lifeless, but dead.

 

Praise

 

All that was promised, now done

A life started and ended

As soon over as begun

For all that was intended

That alone remains

 

Solace

 

Count the days to me now

Feel their bleak, sunless pallor

Everywhere the flat, muddy-brown

Pond of existence grows shallower

And all point is lost to purpose

 

More surface than form

Through some trickery or conceit

It is my life forsworn

All no more than a neat

And appropriate lie.

 

Yes, it was I who drank the black goo

And I the stillborn son

I, the poisoned well who

Can never be done

But to steal the sky of its' glimmer.

Is That All There Is

Oh yeah, the blog. I'd almost forgot about it. Truth is, I was thinking of dropping the blog, and, judging from the thousands of emails I've received demanding its return, it doesn't appear that it would be missed. But be that as it may, the fact is that I like to core dump my consciousness onto the internet every now and then, and in that way, I suppose, this blog is good therapy. So what the hey. As Frank Zappa, the fervently anti-drug musician and composer, once said "I don't need to use alcohol and drugs to get all weird - I was born that way", to which I say "here, here", and offer my blog as proof.

Which places the burden squarely on my shoulders. If you're reading this then I have to assume it's because you have come here expecting something interesting and informative and worthy of your time, and that's really too bad. I'd much prefer you came here because you've got nothing else to do, in which case this blog shouldn't waste any time that would have been otherwise misspent. In either case, whether compelling or frivolous, I suppose I should find something to write about.

How about the economy. That's topical and blogworthy. Are we in a recession or are things just a little slow? And if so, who's to blame ? Is it government or big business? Is it us? Are we to blame? No, let me assure you it's not us. We were just innocent dupes. Just innocent, gas-guzzlin', status seeking, materialistic, maxed-out, consumption-crazed, leverage every last penny in our pockets dupes. If what we were doing was wrong, then America is wrong, and if America is wrong, then someone should have stopped us before it was too late. But they didn't stop us, did they? So now I say it's up to them to make it up to us. Damn, where's my rebate check?

The old saying goes that when someone else loses their job it's a recession, and when you lose your job it's a depression. If that's the case, then I would have to call this a fin-de-siecle. The fin-de-siecle is what they called that time around the end of the 19th century when the fabled era of European excess, opulence and decadance called "La Belle Epoque" came to a violent and bloody end as Europe descended into chaos and a succession of world wars that would eventually collapse the great European empires and rearrange the pecking order of the great world powers. I think we're going through something like that. Nothing serious, just the violent end of the world as we know it. I don't know if the Fed has any kind of fin-de-siecle policy, but I guess another interest rate cut wouldn't hurt.

What bothers me, though, is that if this is the end of an era of opulence and decadence, then how come I didn't get in on any of it. All those years of riches and gaudiness and moral turpitude, and all I got out of it was this lousy 401k. Man, if I would have known it was all coming to an end I would have made more of an effort to be greedier and more promiscuous. All those wasted years, and now, of course, it's too late. You kids in the audience - let that be a lesson to you.

Anyways, what difference does it make now. The question is where do we go from here? Beats me. Time keeps slipping through my hands and I still haven't found my life's purpose or written that libretto or held that woman I dream of every night. Tilted at windmills, that's all I've done. I've just been tilting at windmills.

I did have an idea about doing a video podcast where I'd ride my motorcycle around and visit all the great opera houses of Europe. You know, sort of a travel podcast for opera-loving motorcyclists. I figured it would be a good idea because that way I could combine two of the things I love the best - opera and motorcycling - and maybe make a little coin off of it too. I'll admit it's a bit niche - sort of a combination of Great Performances and Then Came Bronson (anyone old enough to remember that show?), but you know podcasting exists to serve niche markets. It would be perfect, but then I got to thinking, ok, so I ride my bike and go to these opera houses, and then what? Do I look into the camera and say something like "Sure, I scraped a peg or two on the way in, but say, that La Scala is some opera house, ain't it?" Somehow I couldn't see the advertisers lining up to sponsor something like that.

So anyway that was my great idea. I admit I'm not really the entrepeneurial type. I just don't have that sense of the utility of things, that sense of giving the people what they want (take this blog for example). I'm more interested in the things that interest me, I suppose, much to my misfortune. Oh well, I guess we can add "internet media mogul" to the list of job titles never to appear on my resume, along with librettist and promiscuous money monger that is.

Oh, the hubris, the hubris.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

Well, the weather was so beautiful today that I decided to take the blog outside and enjoy a little sunshine. Wait a minute. Who's that over there sitting on that park bench? Why it's Barak Obama. Let's go over and find out what's happening with the Democratic frontrunner.

"Hey 'O', how's it going?"

"Good. Pretty damn good, to tell you the truth. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I bought a sandwich over at the deli and, you know, it was so nice out that I figured I'd go outside and eat it. You want half?"

"What kind you got?"

"Tuna, on a french roll."

"Yeah, I'll take half of that. Have a seat."

"Thanks. Say, what are you doing in California anyway? Shouldn't you be in Wisconsin campaigning or something?"

"Man, it's 11 degrees in Milwaukee. If it's all the same to you I'd rather be out here in California, you know what I mean?"

"Got that right."

"Besides, I was hoping I'd run into you. You write that blog, don't you?"

"Yeah I've got a blog but I didn't know you read it."

"Oh yeah. I read it all the time. It's great. Sort of perceptive, penetratingly insightful, and yet incredibly stupid all at the same time. I love it."

"Well, variety is the spice of life."

"That's what they say. Hey this sandwich is good. You got anything to wash it down with?"

"Nah. I could go back to the deli and pick up a couple of soda's if you'd like."

"No, that's alright. I'm fine."

"How's the campaign going? You seem to have Hillary on the ropes."

"You think so? I'm not so sure. I'm not polling well in Texas and Ohio."

"Is that right. Hmm. No offense to Hillary, mind you, but she doesn't seem that presidential to me. She seems more like a policy wonk than a leader, you know what I mean. People want someone to follow, not just a bunch of graphs and numbers. Not that I've got anything against her, but for some reason she just doesn't inspire me."

"So does that mean you're going to vote for me?"

"You haven't got the nomination yet, 'O'. Ask me again after Denver."

"Then let's say I do get the nomination?"

"Geez, I don't know. I mean I gotta be honest and...um...let me put it this way. For a guy who talks about all the things he's gonna do, you sure don't seem to have done much. I mean it's probably a good thing that you don't have much of a record to be held accountable for, but still...well...you don't have much of a record."

"I voted against the war, didn't I?

(pause)

"Let me ask you something. Do you honestly believe that you're gonna change Washington? I hear you say it all the time, but do you seriously believe that?"

"Sure I do. I'm gonna stand up to the special interests and ..."

"Do you seriously think that the special interests, the real king makers and powerbrokers in Washington, are worried about what's gonna happen to them if Obama comes to town. Do you think they're telling themselves 'Uh-oh, Obama's in charge now. We better straighten up our act or else he's gonna run us out of town.'"

"I think they're going to find out pretty quick that the days of 'business as usual' are over."

"Right."

"We're gonna have full disclosure when I get elected. The American people deserve to know who's paying what to who, and then we'll just let the cards fall where they may."

"And you know what we're going to find out? We're going to find out that the money goes everywhere, and that everyone's got their hand in the cookie jar. What will that prove?"

"Don't be so cynical, D.C. It's time for change in America, and I'm ready for the challenge."

"Oh I see. This is sort of like 'Destry Rides Again', isn't it. Only this isn't the movies and you aren't Jimmy Stewart."

"Give me your vote and we'll see what happens."

"Nah, even if I believed you could change things I could never vote for you."

"Why not?"

"It's the war. For the life of me I can't see what we gain by abandoning Iraq, especially now that we're finally starting to turn the corner. "

"America was mislead. We have no business being in Iraq. The American people know that, and I know that. The best thing for us to do is get our troops out of there and stop making a bad situation worse."

"But it's getting better."

"Our war is with the terrorists, not the Iraqi's. Everyone knows that?"

"That's not the point. You know General Meade's war wasn't with the state of Pennsylvania, and I'm sure he would have rather fought his battle at the gates of Richmond than up in the Pennsylvania farm country. Unfortunately, at that moment the enemy happened to be at Gettysburg and so that's where the battle had to be. It seems to me the height of arrogance that Americans think we can just start and stop wars at our leisure, and then be so cavalier as to cover our defeats with the excuse that we did not lose, we just chose not to further engage."

"That's not what this is about."

"Tell me something.When this is all over, we aren't going to tun on our TV's and see Iraqis crowding the gates of the Embassy as the last Americans are helicoptered out of Baghdad, are we?"

"Our withdrawal from Iraq is not going to be the end of our commitment to defeat the terrorists and to bring their leaders to justice."

"Are we going to invade Pakistan?"

"Don't go there."

"Let's say we pull out of Iraq and the enemy then feels free to disengage and turn their attention up north, and let's say we start to see a wave of terrorist attacks in Afghanistan with thousands killed and American troops under fire. Will we then follow the pattern we established in Iraq and withdraw from Afghanistan as well? Would the enemy expect anything less of us?"

"You're overreacting to the situation, DC. I'm not going to engage in wild hypotheticals with you except to say that our commitment to the Afghan people is firm."

"Yeah, ok, but I'm sticking with McCain. I think he knows what's at stake here."

"And are you prepared to fight a hundred years war?"

"The Mideast is too volatile. Things will get resolved one way or another before that ever happens. McCain is the adult here. He knows that if you're stupid enough to get yourself into a war, then you're committed to see it all the way through. You don't get to take a Mulligan."

"Well, thank God most Americans don't feel that way. America wants out, D.C., and I do too."

"That's ok 'O'. You seem like a sincere guy. A little wet behind the ears, but sincere. And I think it'd be great if you really do change Washington, but don't give up too easily if you happen to get bloodied up a bit, huh."

"You know I won't."

"Do I?"

 

 

 

"

Carpe Diem, Dude

"Hello."

"Hello. You must be Mr. Jones. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you."

"Can I get you something to drink? A cup of coffee maybe?"

"No, no thanks. I'm fine."

"Well, Mr. Jones, what brings you in this morning?"

"I think I need a career change."

"Yes, of course. You know that's very common now days. A lot of people your age arrive at a certain point in their lives, having worked to buy a home and raise a family, and with the children gone and the mortgage almost paid they start to wonder if there isn't something more to life. Something more rewarding or personally fulfilling."

"I'm not married."

"Divorced?"

"No, nothing like that. You see I was downsized last year and..."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, it's ok. I found a new job. But the thing is, I'm still doing the same thing, you know. It's a different company but it's still the same old thing, and I'm just starting to wonder if..."

"Sure, I understand. You want to know what color is your parachute."

"Huh?"

"That's just an expression. It means..."

"I didn't know parachutes came in colors."

"Well that's an interesting point. The fact is that parachutes come in all sorts of colors. We just have to find out what color yours is."

"I don't know. Red?"

"No, that's not what I...tell you what, let's start off by finding out a little bit more about yourself. When you're not working what do you like to do?"

"Sleep."

"Besides sleep, I mean. Do you like to play sports, or work on cars, or something like that, or perhaps you're more the creative type."

"I like sports, I guess."

"Oh, that's good. What sorts of sports do you play?"

"Play? No, I meant I like to watch sports. I'm too out of shape to play sports."

"Do you golf? Fish?"

"I like to eat fish, but I don't catch them. In fact, I'd really rather not watch my food squirm and die before I put it in mouth. I takes away my appetite, you know?"

"And you don't golf?"

"I hate golf."

"Ok, so what do you like to do? C'mon Mr. Jones, there must be something?"

"The truth is I already know what I want to do."

"You do? What's that?"

"I want to be a geek."

"A geek? You mean with computers and things like that?"

"Yes."

"Well, ok, that should be no problem. There are plenty of jobs out there in computers these days. Are you looking for something in IT or MIS perhaps?"

"No. not that kind of geek. Believe me, if it's 3:00 in the morning and Mary in Accounting's printer won't print, I DO NOT want to be the person she calls to get the thing working again. You know what I'm saying."

"Yes, but really Mr. Jones, you're not giving me very much to..."

"I want to be a geek. Like those ones in the movies. You know. The ones that can just walk into someone's office and type a few keys on the keyboard and suddenly have access to all of his classified documents and the schematics to secret CIA facilities in the desert, or can walk into a building and press a few keys on a keypad and disable all the alarms and open all the security doors and cut off all outside communications. I want to be one of those kind of geeks. The problme is that I don't know where you go to learn all that stuff. That's why I'm here. I was hoping you could help me."

"Tell me something Mr. Jones. Do you watch a lot of TV?"

"Not really."

"I think maybe..."

"I want a job like Chloe's. You know Chloe on '24'. I want to sit at my computer and control satellites and deploy police cars and break into government facilities and stuff like that. That would be such a cool job."

"And highly illegal, I might add."

"Well that's the whole point, isn't it. I mean who's to say where we draw the line. Maybe sometimes the ends do indeed justify the means."

"You seem like a detail oriented person, Mr. Jones. Perhaps you might like to try accounting instead."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"No, please don't Mr. Jones. I'd rather you didn't."

"You know that Chloe - the on on TV. I think she's hot."

"Really? Well that's an interesting detail we can add to your file. But back to the business at hand. What I need from you is ..."

"You don't think I'm serious do you? Well I am. I've been to trade schools. You know like Heald and University of Phoenix, but they don't offer any courses I need. Sure, PHP and XML and things like that, but nothing about disabling building security or decrypting classified documents."

"Mr. Jones, I'm sorry but I just don't know what I can do for you. You seem to have some peculiar career goals in mind and I just..."

"You lied."

"I what?"

"You lied."

"Now wait a minute. I'm sure I never..."

"Your ad in the paper said you could help me find the path to happiness and be whatever it is I wanted to be."

"And I can, it's just that I'm not sure if...by that, I mean I don't think you really understand what...the truth is Mr. Jones, if we're going to find out your true path to happiness then you're going to have to start being a little more realistic, that's all."

"You sound just like my father. When I was a kid he used to tell me to never let anyone or anything stop me from reaching my goals, to never say never. He'd say 'Son, remember you can be anything you want to be.' So one day I told him 'Dad, I think I'd like to be Jesus Christ, the Son of God.' and then after that we stopped having our heart-to-heart talks. Then all of a sudden one day he took me to a special doctor and made me promise I'd never tell anyone I'd been there, and we never talked about being anything I want to be ever again. It was lie, what he said, wasn't it? It was all a great, big lie."

"No it's not a lie. You can be whatever you want to be, but within reason of course."

"In other words, it's true that you can be whatever it is you want to be, but realistically speaking you'll probabaly end up sitting in some cubicle just like everybody else."

"No, Mr. Jones. Please don't be discouraged. I'm sure that..."

"Look, you asked me what color my parachute was. Well, that's my parachute."

(pause)

"You're right. You're absolutely right. Ok, let's get started then. If I remember correctly you said you wanted to be a geek, but not the kind of geek that fixes people's printers. You want to be a geek of danger and mystery. Is that right?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Do you have any experience? I mean I'm not sure what sort of qualifications you need to be a geek, but what's your background. Do you have any kind of 'geek cred'?"

"Well I keep my pockets stuffed full of electronic gadgets everywhere I go, and even though my house is full of cabinets and drawers and boxes stuffed with every conceivable kind of electronic cable, connector, switch and whatever else you can possibly think of, it seems I never find the partcular cable or connector I'm looking for when I really need it."

"That's certainly a start. Anything else?"

"Well, I have poor nutrition habits, no fashion sense, and really lousy taste in art, books and music."

"Great. It certainly sounds like you're off to a solid start. Now there's just the question of where to get your training. Have you given any thought to that?"

"Yeah, well I think organized crime would probably have the sort of position I'm looking for. They always seem to need a geek or two when they commit heinous acts."

"You're right. I bet there are plenty of criminal organization's around that would be eager to take on an intern or some kind of entry-level geek."

"What kind of organizations?"

"I don't know. Latin American drug cartels, Caribbean money launderers, East Coast crime families, Congress. Have you thought about relocating to Washington DC?"

"Then you think I can really do this?"

"If that's what you want. If that's what you really want. Here, let me play this CD for you. Climb every mountain, cross every stream. Follow every rainbow, until..."

"Life is so full isn't it? Such a rich pageant."

"You see that. When you came in here you were feeling all stuck in a rut, and now look at you. How do you feel now?"

"Great. I really think I'm ready. I think I'm finally ready to let go of the past and become the geek I was always meant to be."

"You see. You just needed was a little encouragement, that's all. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, you've been a great help, and listen...if I do break into a computer someday and steal all kinds of personal information, well...I just hope it isn't yours.I wanted you to know that."

"That's sweet. Thank you. And good luck with your new career."

"No, thank you."

Up and Down, and After All It's Only 'Round and 'Round

Wheeeeeeeee!!!!!!

Hey there, I'm back. Yeah, I know it's been awhile, but it's not like there's a huge crowd out there waiting for this blog to hit the internet. At least I hope not.

Wheeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!

Don't mind that noise in the background. No I'm not out at the Boardwalk watching the roller coasters go by. It's just that I've got the TV on and right now I'm watching the latest stock market news.

Wheeeeeeeee!!!!!

And you thought all that stocks and bonds stuff was boring, didn't you? No way, dude. Broke one minute, rolling in the dough the next - that's the life of the investor, although I'd be eternally grateful if the stock market would quit making all this front page news and go into hiding for a while. Believe me, the last thing any investor ever wants to see is the market become the lead story on the evening news. You just know no good can come from it.

Luckily, our government is ever vigilant and stands ready to shield us from these slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. What they've come up with is something called a stimulus plan. You've probably heard about it. Apparently, what we need is some kind of stimulant to get us past all these "crises" we're facing. Let's see, there's the housing crisis, the credit crisis, the energy crisis, the Mideast crisis, and out here in California we can add the budget crisis to the pile. Our aging infrastructure is collapsing, our airports are overcrowded, our ports are unguarded, our borders are unsecured, our planet is heating up, our politicians are deadlocked and corrupt, our currency is in freefall, our banks are bleeding money, our schools are falling apart, our athletes are on drugs, our Hollywood celebrities are in rehab, our health care bills are climbing, our real estate values are sinking, and our TV shows are being held hostage by a writers strike. So, in our time of need, our government has bravely decided to give each of us a check for $800 bucks.

Gee that's swell of you, Uncle Sam, and I'm sure that the fact that this is an election year has nothing to do with your decision to hand out treats. No, of course not, and all cynicism aside, I can see the point of what you're trying to do. The fact is that U.S. consumption accounts for 20% of the world economy, and if we aren't down at the mall spending, it's not just Americans who are going to suffer, but dollar-a-day sweatshop workers in China as well. Our humanity itself demands we do something.

So, have you decided what you're going to do with your check yet? I figure with all these "crises" we're have surrounding our doorstep, the first thing I'm gonna do with my check is go buy some guns and ammunition. Maybe some canned goods and bottled water too - it could be a long siege. Other than that I think I'll just watch the Fed lower interest rates and watch the monthly earnings from my savings accounts slowly dwindle to nothing.

Thanks a lot, Ben.

But I don't want to finish this post on a down note so here's something totally unrelated. This is actually a little item out of Germany that I thought you might find interesting. It concerns a sensational German violinist named Julia Fischer that I've blogged about in the past, who recently did something that I thought would be impossible given her grueling schedule of concerts and recording sessions. I think I mentioned once that Fischer was not only one of today's top violinists, but was also rumored to be an accomplished pianist as well. I also offered the opinion that we would never know how good a pianist she was because of all the demands and challenges that lay before her in her career as a world-class violinist. I simply didn't think she would ever have the time to put together a piano program in the middle of her very busy violin schedule.

Well, I was wrong.

According to the article, on January 1st of this year, the remarkable Julia Fischer, Gramaphone's Artist of the Year, not only played Saint-Saens Violin Conceto No. 3 for a concert audience in Frankfurt, but came back after the intermission to play the Grieg Piano Concerto in A-minor on piano as well. I know most people don't follow classical music that closely, but I think even the most jaded hipster has got to stand back and take pause at an accomplishment like that. Most people would need a lifetime to master just one instrument, but two, and at the age of 24, is unbelievable. It may not be your kind of music, but how can you argue with the talent.

Now if I had just one word of advice for the German wunderkind it would be this: Take it easy for a while. No, I certainly can't live her life for her, but I've been thinking about celebrity a lot this past year and trying to imagine what it must be like to live under the constant scrutiny and glare of strangers. On the one hand it must be exhilarating and fun to receive all the accolades and applause, but on the other hand it must be a tremendous burden to be so public and carry the weight of conjecture and expectation with you wherever you go. We audiences seem so needy sometimes (especially the frustrated musicians among us) and it seems like the best thing an adoring audience could do for these great musicians is just pay the money, enjoy the concert, and then back off.

And maybe the best thing that a Julia Fischer could do is back off a little as well. Just a little, mind you. I believe she recently got married so why not take some time off to be with her young groom, and then come back relaxed and ready to go for her next season or project. That would be my advice, anyways, and if she heard it I'm sure she would say that I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

Californa On 38 Million Dollars A Day

Are you watching the Sugar Bowl? Yeah, I know what you mean. Before the game everyone was asking if Hawaii really belonged there, and now after watching the first half the only question is how much more of this rout can I sit through before I turn the TV off. The hell with this. It's like watching Pop Warner vs. the NFL. I think I'll do some blogging instead.

Let's see, when last we talked  the company I formerly worked for had just gone  belly-up and I was out of a job. I'm happy to say that I'm now working for a new company, and it's going ok except that like a lot of people starting new jobs I still feel like an orphan at someone else's family reunion. On the one hand it's nice to be employed, but on the other hand it's a bit of a drag to have to start at the bottom again and work to regain all that I had built up. Even worse is the feeling that I'm not so sure I even want to do it all over again, you know? I keep wondering if maybe I should have just taken some time off and tried to figure out where I want to go from here instead of jumping right back in. I mean I've still got some time left to try something else, don't I?

Something like taking a nice long break and going down to Australia or something like that. I was watching the Travel Channel a couple of years ago and they had this special all about Australia, and it looked pretty nice. I don't know if you know this but everywhere you go down there they've got these empty tropical beaches with no one around except buxom, bronze-skinned bikini babes. I'm not kidding - I saw it on the Travel Channel. The Travel Channel wouldn't lie, would they?

"Meanwhile, just 250 kilometers up the coast you'll find a pristine tropical paradise called the Polynesian Heaven Resort. With it's luxurious cabana style accommodations and endless miles of unspoiled beaches, the Polynesian Heaven is a must-see for any vacationer taking a trip down under. There's plenty of outdoor fun to be had with one of their snorkel or jet ski rentals, or perhaps a romantic candlelight dinner in one of their four star restaurants is more your style. Even if it's just a casual stroll on an empty beach with nothing but buxom, bronze-skinned bikini babes to keep you company, you'll find exactly what you're looking for at this hidden getaway. Located less than an hour's drive from blah, blah, blah..."

(I used to love watching the Travel Channel. I wonder if they're still on the air)

Well, I'm not going to Australia. Not now, anyway. I'm still here in California, and the beaches are cold and nary a buxom, bronze-skinned bikini babe is in sight. Plenty of news, though, I guess.

The big story, of course, is the collapse of the California real estate market. Not the entire market, mind you,  but significant portions of it. Mark my word, Californians may say we care about clean air and good schools and all that other stuff, but what we really care about above all else is the value of our homes. Without that, we'd have nothing else to talk about. We'd all just stand around and stare at each other as we fingered the avocado dip. 

Now, with housing prices declining the state is in a decidedly glum mood. There was a poll I saw recently that said that around 50% of Californians were feeling pessimistic about the future, compared to around 20% who were feeling good.  I don't know what that implies (probably not much), but if misery loves company then I guess Californians can at least feel pretty good about that.

The fiscal situation, however, is a little more dramatic. Since he took office, Governor Schwarzenegger has made it clear that there will be no new taxes on his watch, and to that end he gambled that by borrowing the funds California needed to continue operating now, he could wait for the economy to recover and pay back those loans later. Given both the state requirement to balance its budget and his pledge not to raise taxes, he really had no other choice. The bad news is that meanwhile, back at the economy, the housing market has tumbled and tax revenues have come up a little short. About leaving  $14 billion short, so far, and the Governor is now looking more and more like a spend-happy George W. Bush in a muscle suit. Oh well, so much for that whole balanced budget idea.

Which means that as we head into 2008 things are looking pretty feisty for the Governor and the state's Republicans. They are expected to hold the line on taxes, and that means some kind of showdown with the Democrats is inevitable. You have to understand that when we talk about a budget we aren't talking about how to spend California's tax dollars. The truth is most of our tax dollars have already been spent through entitlements and guaranteed spending levels, and less than 25% is actually left in the so-called "discretionary" portion of the budget. So when Californians talk about budget fights, we're really just talking about nibbling at the margins.

And that leaves us with only one choice. I hate to say this Mr. Governor, I really do, but it looks like we're going to have to raise some taxes to make up this shortfall. Like it or not, our options are very limited and we can't just keep floating bonds and putting off the inevitable - we have to start taking some responsibility now. As to whose taxes to raise, I say that guy's over there. He's got plenty of money and he can afford it, and besides, I already pay enough taxes as it is.

And in one last bit of fiscal news, it seems the City of Santa Clara (my neighbor to the west) may be building itself a new stadium. If you haven't been following along, and why would you, Santa Clara has been trying for the longest time to get a professional sports franchise to move in to town. For years the object of their affection was the San Francisco Giants, but when the Giants built their new stadium up in The City, Santa Clara was forced to look elsewhere. Finally, though still unable to find a professional team willing to relocate, they decided to try the San Francisco Forty-Niners instead. And, lo and behold, the Niners said yes.

So far, that is. Problem is that money thing again. Specifically, about $62 million which the city needs to raise in order to complete the deal. Details, details...You would think that with all the money sloshing around this valley that $62 million would be a drop in the bucket (hell, Larry and Sergey probably have that much just jingling around in Google's spare change jar), but it looks like the city is going to need to come up with some sort of revenue plan (i.e. taxes). The latest proposal I heard was a new Hotel Tax, which suits Santa Clarans just fine, but doesn't do much good for the tourist trade (and lord knows how many tourists are flocking to Santa Clara). Nothing is final, though, so stay tuned.

Hopefully, the money will be found and in a few years the Forty-Niners will be calling Santa Clara their new home. No word yet if they'll be the San Francsisco Forty-Niners or the Santa Clara Forty-Niners or the Santa Clara San Francisco Forty-Niners or whatever, but everyone involved in the deal seems pretty excited.  I'm sure they'll sort it out and then the Santa Clara fans can finally sit in their brand new stadium and watch their Forty-Niners and shout "We payed $62 million for this?"

Hmm, maybe they should have gone after the Hawaii Rainbow Warriors instead.

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Hello there. Hope everything's going well with you. It's been pretty uneventful around here lately - kind of quiet really. You know, I've just been running errands, doing a little  shopping, and that sort of thing, and, uh, oh yeah, getting laid off for Christmas.. Other than that though....

Well, technically speaking, I didn't get laid off. What happened is that I came into work last Thursday, poured a cup of coffee, sat down at my desk, had a good yawn and a belly scratch, and then found out that the company announced we were going to shut down.

"Hey, look, no big deal but I just thought you'd like to know that as of 5:00 o'clock tonight we're all going to out of job".

"Ok, thanks. I appreciate your mentioning it. Hey, did you see the game last night?"

Well, it was sort of like that. You see, prior to the announcement there wasn't even the slightest hint that anything was wrong. Maybe it was naivety on my part or maybe I just wasn't paying attention, but the offhandedness of the shutdown was really weird. It was like the bosses just got up that morning and decided "You know, instead of our usual 18 holes, why don't we just close down the company instead."

Ho-Ho-Ho and a Merry Christmas.

Not that I'm feeling sorry for myself, mind you. Actually, I'm pretty lucky in that I'm a pessimist by nature and forever preparing for the worst. That means I've got no debts and some money in the bank, and with no dependents to take care of  I won't be going hungry anytime soon. Unfortunately, that's not true for everybody that lost their job last Thursday, especially the ones with mortgages to pay and young families to clothe and feed. I don't suppose anyone feels too good about that, but you gotta be prepared for the worst, you know?  These days Christmas layoffs seem to have become almost an annual tradition in the corporate world, and, after all, what better way to reward your employees than with a great big lump of coal for the Yuletide.

Yeah, ho-ho-ho indeed

So, anyway, it was strange being unemployed. I started going over it in my mind and the nearest I can figure is that I've been employed continuously since I was 19 years old, and for all those years not a day has gone by that I didn't know that a next paycheck coming. Then just like that, I found myself hung out to dry and the next paycheck I always counted on and planned my future around wasn't there anymore. Let me tell you. It's a weird, disorientating feeling. I didn't know whether to panic or just pretend it was all a bad dream.

And if all that wasn't bad enough, someone, who apparently subscribes to the theory that it is best to kick people when they're down, decided to prowl my neighborhood last Friday night and  break into my truck. As if I wasn't feeling bummed out enough already about being out of a job, I walked out to the truck on Saturday morning and found the doors wide open, the little change compartment completely emptied and the rest of the interior contents thrown into a big messy pile on the seats. Luckily it's an old truck and there wasn't that much change inside, and they probably would have done me a favor if they would have just stolen the entire truck, but it was just the sort of salt I didn't need rubbed into my wounds at that particular moment, you know what I mean?

So that was my uneventful week. I certainly hope yours was better. The good news is that I'm starting a new job in a few days and hopefully this next one will go a little better than the last. Being the pessimist I am, however, I'm not expecting all my troubles to be behind me. Not after the week I've just been through, and you can rest assured that I'll be squeezing my dollars pretty tight in the days ahead. I'm sorry to disappoint you Wall Street, but  my contribution to the greater economic good this Christmas season is likely to be somewhat muted, to say the least.

Which means there must be some lesson in all this. Well yes, there is, and for that let us turn now to that great folk economist Bob Dylan who once reminded us "Don't follow leaders, and watch the parking meters." 

And have a Happy Holiday .