Why blog?

Because this isn't a political blog, but a collection of my musings, I try not to write about only one thing. And, to be honest, writing about the current unpleasantness in Washington and the world would be too utterly depressing if it were full time work. And my entries are sporadic, anyway, and outrages happen in DC more than daily. I just couldn't keep up.

Blogs have been around since 1994, but took off in 1998. There are now approximately 60 million blogs out there in the ether, representing people venting, telling their personal stories, providing political commentary, and displaying pix of their cats. Why do we feel the need to send our precious words into cyberspace? Is it like sending a probe to Mars, hoping that something interesting will come back with the space craft? I admit to enjoying trying to figure out who is reading my stuff based on the records in the site meter. I have regular readers in Missouri, Masachusets, and, of course, Minneapolis, although the Minnie readers could just come to the house and ask me. But the anonymity of reading someone's diary at a distance, with no chance of getting caught, is a pretty cool feature of modern life. But, of course, with site meter I can catch you.

Minnesota strikes again

My depression about 9/11--not the event itself, but the constant chewing it over five years later--has been lifted by the election in the Minnesota DFL (read Democratic) primary of Keith Ellison, an African American and a Muslim, to represent the party in the November election for the 5th Congressional district in this state. Keith is an anti-war progressive whose campaign slogan was "everybody counts". He reminds people of Paul Wellstone. He will win in November, because a Republican cannot win in the 5th Minnesota. He will be the first Muslim in the US Congress.

Did I ever say that I live in a bubble? When stuff like this happens, I'm proud to be from the North Star state, despite Jesse Ventura (I actually liked him for a while), Tim Pawlenty, and Norm Coleman. These last two give flyover land a really bad name, making us just a poorer, flatter, and less interesting outpost of northern Virginia. You don't need two of those. But the election of Keith Ellison bodes well for keeping us in the forefront of blue state culture. Huzzaa!

Bully Pulpit

Garrison, I take it all back. You can make all the jokes you want about Unitarians. Your weekly column in the Star Tribune, The Old Scout, suggested that the Current Occupant of the White House is a shallow jingoistic fool with a small rigid agenda and little knowledge of the world. People must say things like this, and say them loudly. You have a large fan base across the nation, people view you with (sometimes misplaced) nostalgia, and you have lots of print and broadcast vehicles. Use them to effect change. Use them to tell the truth about the boy from Texas. People listen, and you have nothing to loose.

And, being made fun of is probably not the end of the world. Tell those Unitarian jokes. Some of them are pretty funny.

Democracy Now!

Last night OLGS and I went to hear Amy Goodman, doyenne of the community radio show Democracy Now!, speak at a fundraiser for local Twin Cities Pacifica radio outlet KFAI. Amy was really, really, articulate, and a great storyteller. She was pushing a new book, Static, and told lots of tales from that book and from the radio show. Despite her Harvard education, or maybe because of it, she speaks in a way that is accessible yet still moving and compelling. Politicians, take note.

What bothered me about the event was not the speaker, but the audience. Everyone--about 500 people--had grey hair, pot bellies, and hearing aids. Where were the young people? One could say that they were not able to afford the $10 admission charge on a Friday night, having better stuff to do.

The other thing, of course, is that people under 35 are not radio people, whereas we geezers are. But Democracy Now! streams on the web, is available on public access cable, and on Link TV--all outlets which are available to the folks who should be our leaders in the very near future.

Does this mean that young people don't care? That they are so disillusioned by our current political disaster that they tune out, or, at best, act locally? Anyway, Amy was preaching to the choir, to people who already agree with her, and not to the people who should be hearing her. Are aging hippies, old potsmokers, and granola crunching types the only ones who care what is happening to our country? Say it ain't so.

Back to school

Another year has come and gone. I measure the passage of time by the turning of the year in September, rather than in January. From early childhood on, my calendar was the academic one. But there are lots of other ways of marking the passage of time and the changing seasons. There are religious calendars, and until the industrial era (sort of), the Gregorian calendar followed the Christian one, with the beginning of the year, or its end, somewhere around Easter, depending. There is the fiscal calendar, which begins in July or October or January, depending. The Jewish New Year takes place in September or October, depending. Chinese New Year, the Hindu New Year, and other festivals marking the new year take place sometime in January. It depends.

Here in flyover land, and mandated by state law, public schools cannot start until after Labor Day, when the State Fair is over and all the resorts have closed for the season and there is no longer any need for cheap, teenage labor. But private schools, whose students apparently don't need to work at the State Fair, usually return before that sacred date. Of course, there are places in the US--Aroostook County, Maine, for example--where school starts at the beginning of August and then stops so that all available hands can work the potato harvest or bring in the hay or whatever. And then it restarts again, and kids return to the classroom, or become fishing guides, or drop out. Depending.

Somali drivers' ed

On my way to work, I pass by the Minneapolis K-8 school that Joe College and Joe High School attended. Most public schools, especially in cash-strapped inner city districts, look pretty bleak in the summer, with weeds growing in the sidewalks, and torn posters flapping from the fence and pillars. And Anne Sullivan Communication Center, or ASCC, has all of these signs of neglect. But there's a bit of excitement in the adjacent the parking lot. It's been turned into an ad-hoc practice driving course, with gallon milk jugs and flags marking the edges and turns.

Who uses this driving course? I've never actually stopped to investigate, so I can't be 100% certain. However, it appears to be a place where Somali women learn to drive. Watched by their menfolk, they slowly cruise around the school parking lot. The men stand around, smoking and chatting. Of course, once school starts, the lot will be full of cars, and the driving lessons will end. But for now, it's pretty cool to watch the ingenuity of our latest group of immigrants.

Current Occupant needs to file a change of address

The poor boy on Pennsylvania Avenue (or is he in Crawford right now?) needs a little reality check. Declaring victory in the Israel-Lebanon thing, he made himself look even more clueless, or truthless, than usual. Every newspaper and media outlet was stating with unusual clarity that there was no winner in the Israeli invasion of Lebanon (except maybe Fox, but I don't watch that. But the Current Occupant blithely stated otherwise, continuing his (and ol' Karl's) pattern of government by proclamation. They clearly believe that if you make definite statements, even if they are clearly incorrect, and make them often enough, you'll change reality. Didn't someone try this in Germany in the 1930s?

Speaking in tongues

The news from Lebanon and Israel is much easier to take when it's written in Franch. Le Monde refers to what English-speakers call the Middle East as Le Proche-Orient, or the Near East, which has enough whiff of anachronism to make it paletable. But even with my limited ability to read Le Monde en Francais (enhanced, BTW, by the wonderful on-line translators) the news is grim. And I have this horrible vision of members of the fanatical wing of the religious right rubbing their hands in glee and hoping that that Armageddon has come at last. And the rest of us just sit here....

Elderly cat, part deux

Got a vet who says that as long as we're willing to pump kitty antibiotics into her, Judy the Cat will live. So, we're on the job. Every month for a week, we fill her full of bug-crushing meds, then watch her gradually slide down hill until the next month, when we start the routine again. Sounds brutal, but she actually seems a lot better. But giving her the antibiotics, especially when she's in suspicious mode and won't eat anything, is a two-person job. Even with her reduced weight and strength, she fights. So, OLGS holds her down on the kitchen counter, strategically positioned on top of the Star-Tribune sports pages, and keeps those deadly front paws in a manly grip. I load up the syringe, pry open her jaws, and shoot the stuff into her mouth. A successful encounter is when only half of it dribbles onto the pix of the latest Vikings scandal. There are better ways, but this works for us. I hope it works for her.

Elderly cat

What to do about a very old cat who won't eat? She appears congested, and seems to have difficulty picking up food in her mouth. We've taken her to the vet, and she has responded to antibiotic shots and liquid. But once the meds have worn off, she's back to the frail, skinny, ratty coat look.

She is very picky. She likes grilled organic chicken, cut up very fine, and crummy cheddar cheese (the orange kind), also cut up fine. She drinks evaporated milk. She spurns cheap tuna, except she drinks the liquid when you first open the can. Even very expensive canned cat food, such as Iams, does not appear to be on her approved diet. She no longer likes milk or cream.

But she still goes outside, hunkering down under the car even on the hottest days. It's probably safe there.

Why do we let her suffer? I don't know if she is suffering. And, I promised Joe College Grad that I would try to keep her alive until he gets home, which will be this week. Maybe he'll have the magic touch. At least he can take her to the vet for another shot of antibiotics.

Working 50 hours

Not so many postings recently--in order to pay for the European extravaganza, I'm working again. Not very gainfully, but when you're laid off in middle age, finding another position at the same level is nigh on to impossible. So, it's four ten hour days at one place, and one 10 hour day at another. Both employers probably get shortchanged on occasion.

Working two or three jobs to sustain the American Dream is not uncommon. OLGS has consulting gigs, summer school, and many other oppotunities to earn more money. I don't know any academic who doesn't take advantage of this.

Our long hours allow us to take European vacations, buy coffee at $9.00/pound, and live in a big house--a beat-up house, but a palace nevertheless--and represent a choice. I don't complain, and both jobs are fun and interesting. But, there are so many Americans who have to work two and three horrible jobs, at minimum wage, simply to keep a place to live and feed their kids. They have no choice. And because our pals in Washington are slaves to corporate lobbyists, the situation of those truly hardworking folks is probably not going to get any better. It's shameful that we are represented by these clowns who have somehow convinced at least some of the American people that we have absolutely no obligation, and that there's no cost. to having a resentful, economically fearful, underclass. Shameful.

So I don't whine too much, but I post less frequently.

Nicknames

Everyone knows that George W. Bush loves to assign nicknames to his friends, associates, and enemies. And the rest of us have returned the favor. Some of the nicknames are pretty nasty, reflecting negatively on the president's intellectual capacity. My favorite today, both funny and telling, is Current Occupant, as in "Al Gore or Current Occupant". Makes one think, yes?

Disabled access in Minneapolis

Generally speaking, Minneapolis, and Minnesota, are fairly proactive when it comes to providing access for the disabled (and complying with the law). However, sometimes there are some real headshakers. My current favorite is Seven Corners Parking near the University of Minnesota law school. At the pedestrian exit there are a number of handicapped parking spaces, and a nice wheelchair ramp leading to the exit door. However, when you go through the door, there is no elevator--just a rather nasty stairwell. There is probably another way out that could be used by folks in wheelchairs, but, let's use some common sense, too. Watch this space for more local puzzles on the topic.

Terror vs. terrorism

An insight into our prime leader's use of the word "terror": I used to think that this was a personal, untreatable tick, like his inability to pronounce the word nuclear. However, I now know that his use, and his commandeering, of the word "terror" is very deliberate, and right in line with his other efforts to scare the American people into supporting his policies.

Simply put, terror is what an individual feels. Terrorism is what someone else does. Thus, using the word "terror", instead of terrorism, transfers the action from those who bomb cafes or checkpoints in Iraq to people in the heartland who become sitting ducks, not just for terrorists (highly improbable), but for the fear (or terror) they engender. It is in Bush's interest to allow terrorism to persist, because that supports the existence of terror among the American people.

Very clever. But, as a previous president once noted, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. And, thanks to Bush's use of the word "terror", and other mechanisms designed to scare the people, Roosevelt's pronouncement has now come to pass. But we know that our current prime leader doesn't know much history, so why should we be surprised at his craven use of words to instill fear, and thus support for him? He'll do whatever it takes.

Portugal

Since it's been almost a month since Joe High School, OLGS, and I returned from Scotland via Portugal, it seems appropriate to note that Portugal is wonderful. On the Algarve, it's rather touristy, full of Brits and Germans. There are so many Brits that there is a weekly newspaper for British expats. But it's a low key kind of tourism, at least in Salema, where we stayed. The Algarve is full of beautiful beaches. And in May, it was neither too hot nor too crowded. I suspect that changes. But the beach was lovely, the dark brown faces of the fishermen were the same as they were thirty years ago, and the food and drink were great. Be adventurous. Try octopus. I did, and it tastes like nothing at all except the broth in which it's cooked. And, the climate is Mediterranean dry, which means that permanent minor allergies caused by oak trees, maple trees, and all other kinds of northern climate flora, are gone. I didn't realize it until we returned to the land of the oak tree, but there are significant health beneifts to visiting Portugal. I'll proably have to return.