MindStation X - Sublevel C

Some Thoughts

2011-03-12T16:36:00.000-08:00

My dick is not political.

Hope is not edible.

Err on the side of freedom.

Listen with your heart but act with your brain.

Freedom is never given as a handout.

Necessity is the mother of invention. But that's only one of her children and some of them are bad seeds.

Knowledge is power. Beauty is power too. If you don't have one, you'd better have the other. If you have both, you rule your world.

Could it be that fear is the root of all evil?

It's easier over the short run to change a person's behavior than it is to change their heart.

Control freaks don't care why a person's behavior changes, as long as they can maintain control of the behavior.

Before you vote...

2010-10-11T23:20:00.000-07:00

It has to do with that "Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness" that are our fundamental, guaranteed rights under America's Constitution (that often annoying, sometimes inconvenient, but cleverly-written set of rules that govern our nation).

The first words in our Constitution are, "We The People". I don't know if many of us appreciate what a crazy concept that was during a time of Kings, Queens, and family dynasties -- some of which had been in continuous rule for hundreds of years.

Generally, their rule came from "Divine Right", meaning that the religious authorities determined that the person in charge was given their authority by God, and so was absolute and unquestionable. Disagree with the Queen openly and you could loose your head.

So, in breaking away from the King of England, a handful of crazy people proposed that ordinary people could govern themselves without the need for an ruler with absolute authority granted by The Church.

From this came the idea of "Separation of Church and State." The reason was not so much to keep religion out of politics (an impossibility), but to keep the politicians out of the business of dictating religion to everyone else.

In America, the people in power can't persecute you if your beliefs are different from theirs. And here's where that life, liberty, pursuit of happiness thing comes in.

The government of the United States, by our own Constitution and Bill of Rights cannot deny someone a choice that others have based only on religious grounds.

The crazy people who wrote our Constitution knew that someone would try to make their religious beliefs the law of the land and protected us from that happening.

So, what does that have to do with voting?

Well, maybe the crazy radicals who founded our country knew that in order for our nation to be the best in the world, we'd need to be able to draw from the knowledge, experiences and abilities of all of our citizens -- even people we might not personally like.

So, when it comes time to vote consider what you're voting for and against.

The Break-in

2010-09-26T21:19:00.000-07:00

So, let's say Joe believes that Sam broke into a house. Joe breaks into the same house looking for evidence that Sam had been there. Sam had never been in the house so, of course, no evidence of Sam's presence is found.

Someone broke into the house, but it sure wasn't Sam.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

2010-09-18T01:07:00.000-07:00

Here's why "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" can't possibly ever work:

Straight people are always talking about their dates, boyfriends, girlfriends, and spouses. Men and women like to talk about their relationships and sexual conquests.

Military Gays and Bisexuals can't enter into these common discussions without directly outing themselves.

Their lack of open participation in these discussions stands out as much as if they spoke openly. They might develop strategies to skirt or deflect the discussions, but attempts at evasion raise suspicions.

Suspicions lead to investigations which lead, eventually, to truth being discovered and people's careers ending for no reason other than who they are attracted to -- when they've otherwise done nothing wrong.

The argument that Gays serving openly in the military will lead to a breakdown of discipline is the same argument used to keep Blacks and women out of the military.

Instead, what happened was mutual respect. And no, it didn't happen overnight.

Such changes in attitude take time. But the first step has to be made. The sooner, the better.

The Southern Border

2010-08-31T03:37:00.001-07:00

Here's a simple plan to control the southern border: Give away all of the land along the southern border to any U.S. citizen, with the stipulation that you can take as much land as you can hold. If you can't hold it, it goes back to Federal control and doled out to someone else.

Keep in mind, I said simple - not pretty or peaceful.

But even that simple plan falls apart if you run Google Earth and take a look at El Paso. Then toggle Borders and Labels off and zoom out to see the entire urban area. That urban sprawl is at least 13 cities on both sides of the Rio Grande.

Scroll south and east to suburbs and farm country. That too spreads across both borders.

If you zoom in tight, you'll see a fence line up along the urban areas. But when you look at the big picture, that fence is a border like a g-string is clothing.

Zoom in close and trace the border along the Rio Grande and think how you'd go about patrolling it. How many people would you need and how much it would cost to train, supply, support and pay the massive army you'd need to patrol the border.

I'm figuring maybe 1 person per ten-mile stretch, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week @ $25.00/hr. That comes to $600.00 per day for each 10 mile stretch of border. Of course, they'd work in pairs, but let's keep it to one person just to get some minimum figures.

The border is 1,969 miles long (according to Wikipedia). Round to 197 stations, 10 miles apart. That comes to $118,200.00 per day just in wages. That doesn't include administration, uniforms, equipment, infrastructure, vehicles, fuel, etc.

So, about 43 million dollars per year just to put warm bodies on the ground with just the clothes they showed up in.

Success will mean fewer people on the government dole, offset by higher prices for food for all of us, since they'll have to pay union scale wages to get people to do the hot, dirty, backbreaking work the illegals used to do for next to nothing.

That's assuming you can even pay Americans enough to do that work. Even in this time of high unemployment, Americans aren't standing in line to take field-hand jobs away from the immigrants.

So, that means the collapse of American farming and importing food from abroad.

I don't know -- $5.00 for an artichoke? $15.00 for a head of lettuce? A bottle of wine? Only for the wealthy.

We have it good in American -- partly because the worse conditions a worker can find here are still better than the desperate poverty our southern neighbors came here to escape from.

A more practical solution might be to invite migrant workers to checkpoints along the border where they can get work passes and ID cards so we know who and where they are.

The Legend of Gunner

2010-04-29T03:59:00.000-07:00

Gunner was short. He was maybe 5-foot-six if he stretched and stood on his toes. He was wiry tough though. Arms like twisted lengths of steel cable. His loose-fitting rayon print shirt draped over tightly rippling pectorals.

He was a quiet man. Never known to raise his voice, which had the effect of causing a room to go quiet so people could hear him speak -- which wasn't often.

The story was that he'd been a helicopter gunner in the Army during 'Nam. He had the aura of someone who'd seen things and done things best not discussed in polite company.

Gunner was a pool shark. He haunted a dive bar called the Mauna Loa down on the Cow Hollow end of Fillmore Street. He sat hunch over a beer when I was introduced to him by one of the regulars.

He look up, shook my hand firmly and turned back to his half-empty pint.
I ordered a draft from the beer maid, Marcy. She was tall, leggy, naturally blonde and naturally buxom, with biker-chick looks in black denim decorated with small stainless-steel chains. She sported a quick smile and darting eyes that didn't miss anything going on in her bar.

Someone punched up "We Are The Champions" by Queen and we all joined in the chorus, raising our voices and our beers in unison.

Just when the last notes were fading and we'd gotten back to the serious business of drinking, the Texan entered.

He stood nearly six feet tall with a heavy build. He wore a new-looking off-white Stetson, an ornated black and silver Rockmount Paniolo shirt tucked into Lee Jeans held with a rattlesnake skin belt with a wide ornate silver buckel decorated with embossed steer antlers. His Dan Post snakeskin boots matched his shirt.

Under his arm, he carried a decorative leather case that held his Ebony and mother-of-pearl inlaid Balabushka pool cue.

"So, who's a player here?" The Texan shouted as he stepped through the door. Gunner raised his hand without looking up from his beer.

"Name's Chet, from San Antonio!" stretching the city's vowels and consonants as he reached out a hand thick as a side of beef and flashing a hint of gold chain from the edge of his shirtsleeve.

Gunner climbed down from his bar stool.
"Name's Gunner -- from here." gesturing at the bar before taking the big man's hand and giving it a single firm shake. He reached back to the bar and gulped down the last two fingers of a pint. "So, what's your game, Texan?"

"Well, we play a lot of one-foul where I'm from. What'ta y'all play up here in Frisco?"

Gunner cringed at the crude, tourist abbreviation of his city's name. Took a breath. "Nine ball, huh?" He eyed the Texan up and down, sizing up his opponent. "I'm not a tourney player, but I play a pretty good game of eight-ball."

The Texan let out a hearty laugh. "Ok, son. When in Rome..." as he set his case down on the table, flipped it open and began twisting together his secret weapon.

Gunner went to the rack and eyeballed the selection of pool cues. He pulled one down and rolled it on green felt. It was slightly bowed near the middle and flopped around like a dying fish. He put it back and pulled down another one. It rolled fairly straight. He held the stubby, pitted bumper to his eye a peered down shaft to its tip, rotating it between his fingers. "It'll do." He muttered.

"Fifty dollars a game?" Gunner queried. "Well sure!" the Texan shot back without hesitation.

Both men antied up and Marcy banked the cash in her bosom.

"You're the guest. Your break." Gunner said softly as he tighted the balls in the rack with his fingertips. The Texan carefully chalked the tip of he cue, examining it like he was checking the clarity of a diamond.

The Texan broke, sending the eleven and twelve balls rocketing into corner pockets. "Looks like I got the big ones!"

"It sure looks that way" Gunner replied.

Gunner waddled around the table between sips of beer, squinting at the balls as if he was seeing double, and often missing easy shots.

Gunner lost that game, won the next and lost the next two games, doubling the stakes each time.

The stake was $800.00. The Texan counted, then handed Marcy a thick wad of bills.

Marcy kept the pile of twenties and fifties warm, giving herself a lift at the same time.

"Well, son where's your bet?" The Texan drew. Gunner glanced over at Marcy. She nodded. "The lady says I'm good for it," Gunner replied coolly.

"Bettin' the farm, huh?" the Texan smirked, handing Gunner the rack.

The Texan broke. Nothing went in. Gunner stepped up, suddenly firm in his stride. His hands were steady and his eyes focused sharp as lasers cutting diamonds.

Gunner ran the table. He called and hit three-ball combinations, jump shots, a behind-the-back-bridge-off-the-rail to sink two. The Texan never put cue to ball for the rest of the game.

Gunner lined up his last shot and slammed the 8-ball into a corner pocket. "Well, I've been skunked!" The Texan said with a grimace. He untwisted his cue and lay it carefully back in its case. "Quite a town. Quite a town." he muttered, stepping out into the street.

Marcy peel off two hundred and lay it in the till. "That covers your tab for the week, Gunner." and handed him the rest.

So I asked him, "Did they call you 'Gunner' in the army?" "No," he replied. "I picked that name up here."

Someone punched up "We are the Champions" on the jukebox and Gunner bought us all a around of drafts while we sang in unison.

The was a night at the Mauna Loa, around 1976. It was my first legal night of drinking in a bar.

Outside the Box

2010-04-20T23:07:00.000-07:00

I was at a health presentation today and one of the handouts was a brain-teaser with five dots arranged in a pentagon. The idea was to connect the dots with three or four straight lines. The reason for this little puzzle was to encourage people to think "outside the box."

My four-line solution came pretty quickly and was different from the three and four-line solutions the presenter demonstrated to those who couldn't solve the puzzle.

Coming up with novel solutions to problems comes fairly easy for me. You'd think that would be a benefit, except that outside-the-box solutions run smack against established norms, methods, plans and procedure, rules and customs.

It's frustrating when a solution that seems simple and obvious to me is met with resistance. But that's the case most of the time.

When any system is experiencing difficulty, the first instinct is to shore up the walls that make up the box - the rules, procedures, customs, policies, etc. Make sure everyone is toeing the line.

When that doesn't fix the problem, then "outside-the-box" solutions are requested. Generally, they are requested from people who are inside the box and have an interest in maintaining the status-quo.

So, calls go out for people to "Think outside the box!" This usually results in people decorating the walls of the box with ideas and concepts, and drawing windows on the walls with landscapes that look like what they imagine the outside of the box to look like.

But all this activity takes place without actually moving any of the walls of the box.

Let's say your boss comes up to you and says, "I want you to think outside the box and put some suggestions on my desk in a week."

Easy. It's the pentagon dot puzzle. You solve the puzzle, put it on the boss's desk, you get a handshake, a pat on the back and maybe a plaque to put on your cubicle wall. Nicely done!

Now, let's say your boss comes up to you and says, "I want you to act outside the box and change the way we do things around here."

Now, the risks are real. The consequences are serious and lasting. The ultimate outcome is unknown and unknowable.

"Act outside the box."

And maybe that's why you never hear anyone say that.

Ted Kennedy - 1932 - 2009

2009-08-25T22:44:00.000-07:00

The Kennedy family lead the push for civil rights that those born in the last 20 years take for granted.

I was born in 1955 during a time when Black people weren't served in some restaurants, Black people had to enter some hotels through the back door, had to use segregated water fountains, and were expected to move to the back of the bus to make room for White people.

The Vietnam War raged during that time and students, required to register for the draft, protested openly and sometimes faced down riot police and National Guard troops, at times with deadly results.

The Hippie movement, inspired in part by LSD Guru, Timothy Leary, and their more militant political offspring, the "Yippies" named for the "Youth International Movement" co-founded by Abbie Hoffman, author of the civil disobedience classic, "Steal This Book", lead the push for broader individual freedoms.

The Women's Liberation Movement joined fight for freedom and equality at home and in the workplace inspired by Betty Friedan's book, "The Feminine Mystique".

The Cold War against the Soviet Union kept the world on the brink of nuclear destruction. The Russians successfully launched the first orbiting satellite named, Sputnik and the United States responded by landing men on the Moon.

The Black Panther Party for Self-Defense, founded by Huey Newton and Bobbie Seale, came into being with the war cry, "Black Power!" Demonstrating that Black people would no longer be passive victims of racial discrimination.

We know the music of those times, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Carlos Santana, M.C. 5, The Rolling Stones, James Brown, The Temptations, etc. because the grandchildren of that era are still rocking to that music forty years later.

President, John F. Kennedy was assassinated in 1963. Civil rights activist, Malcolm X was assassinated in 1965. Martin Luther King was assassinated in April of 1968. Robert Kennedy was assassinated in June of 1968.

Angry and frustrated Black people, seeing their most heroic leaders murdered in the space of five years, rioted in America's major cities.

Things began to change after the 1968 riots. The national cost of keeping people down was just too much. Blacks in the Southern states won the right to vote when the "Voting Rights Act" was passed. The "Jim Crow" laws that kept the races separated were abandoned. Blacks and Whites could even legally marry anywhere in the United States. Black people could ride on any open seat of any public transportation.

Women found greater personal freedoms at home and more work opportunities outside the home.

The Vietnam war ended.

These times are known as the "Kennedy Era" due to the activism of the Kennedy's in promoting and fighting for equality and racial and social justice.

The Kennedy family has always fought on the winning side of history. In that sense, the Kennedy Era is now and forever.

Rest In Peace, Ted Kennedy.

Walls

2009-08-24T22:49:00.000-07:00

Sometimes someone throws a wall up between you and your destiny.

Too young to be trusted to your own judgments. Or too old to be fearless and with too much to lose. Roadblocked for your own good.

You find yourself living something like your life, but mixed with someone else's fears and dreams.

And life goes on with the nagging ache of wondering if you've played it wrong at a crucial juncture -- and missed the train you should be on.

What if the Dailies went Crazy...

2009-07-27T19:48:00.000-07:00

It's the same old stuff. There's no difference in reading the news from a newspaper or some online version of anyone else's news.

It's all the same dry, objective, impersonal delivery. Those articles could be written by anyone with equal skill and access to the information.

Why should I buy a boring newspaper when I can read the same boring news online for free?

What if a newspaper did something totally crazy? What if they published an issue with no news in it, just articles written by their reports on subjects that interested them. The front page photo would be a group photo of the staff. Maybe the headline would read, "No News Today - This is About US!"

Would people be curious enough to drop a quarter in the slot to see what was up with this crazy newspaper?

What if that newspaper continued to deliver news stories written with passionate prose, delightful photography, clever graphics, unusual layouts.

A couple of examples:

The Tree -

Reporter #1 - There's a tall green tree standing against a blue sky.

Reporter #2 - A tree reaches to a crystal-blue sky. It stretches its greening branches as if to shout Hallelujah!

The Ball Game -

Reporter #1 - She and the catcher are exchanging looks. She winds up for the pitch and throws. Strike one!

Reporter #2 - She and the catcher's eyes are locked as if they're in a telepathic trance. Transmission completed, they nod to each other. The pitcher twists her left foot into the ground - screwing herself firmly to the earth to build a platform -- a rocket launcher.

Her arm swings back like an ancient trebuchet. She unleashes her missile with a subsonic whoosh. The batter swings -- a second late. The ball has already hit the catcher's mit with a sound like a shotgun blast -- still echoing though the stands as the umpire shouts, "Steeeriiike one!"

And we're watching women's fast-pitch softball. The most vicious game of baseball I've ever seen.

Which reporter would you pay to read?

Why put the headline across the top of the page. Why not down the side? Then you'd have to buy the paper to read the headline -- and it had better be worth reading!

The surest way to boredom is to give people the same thing the same way all the time.

I sure miss Herb Caen...

The Pork Monster

2009-03-24T09:30:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I bought an 8-pound 2-foot-long pork loin. It was cheap. I couldn't resist the price for that much tender pork.

Now, what to do with it?

I decided to cook it in one piece. I prepared a marinade (cola, soy sauce, dried garlic and onion flakes, Worschester sauce, smoke flavor, beer, salt, pepper, and other seasonings). The pork monster has been sitting in the marinade overnight, curled up in a big pot. I turned it first thing this morning, putting the fat side down so that the marinade will absorb evenly.

I think I'm going to grill it.

Well, I'll use my grill to cook it. My plan is to wrap the whole thing in foil and lay the beast across the warming rack and let it slow cook for maybe four hours.

Then I'll have to serve it.

Hmmm... what to do with 8 pounds of slow-cooked tender pork perfection? If only Anthony Bourdain were here -- he'd know what to do. Actually, he'd probably just eat the whole damned thing himself and drink up all my booze.

So, I think I'll divide it up into separate dishes that can be frozen now and heated up later -- pulled pork barbeque, carnitas, chili, and some kind of saucy thing that can be served over rice -- a mole' or tomato-based sauce.

Anyway, wish me luck. The Pork Monster awaits...

Cooking and Photography

2009-03-24T09:13:00.000-07:00

I do a lot of cooking. I also do a lot of photography. I've come to the conclusion that they are similar in this respect:

In photography, if you have an interesting subject - a model for instance; with great hair and makeup, and a beautiful setting and gorgeous lighting, the job of the photographer is to just not screw up in capturing the images. Beyond that, the photographer can help to bring out the best look of the subject and setting.

In cooking, if you have great ingredients, fresh herbs, an array of spices, and the right tools; the cook's job is then to not screw up in preparing the meals. Beyond that, the cook can help to bring out the best flavors and appearance of the ingredients.

I've done my share of overprocessed photos and overprocessed foods, obscuring and distorting what was already good in its original form. I'm lurching back towards simplicity and a more delicate, surgical approach to enhancement.

I think I'm getting better results in both my cooking and my photography.

Whip It... (for us inventory tracking folks)

2009-02-21T20:12:00.000-08:00

While diligently counting items for an equipment inventory, I relieved my boredom by reliving my days doing warehouse inventories captured by rewriting the lyrics to my favorite Devo song, "Whip It":

Grab that list
Give the rack a slap
Climb up on a stack
Don’t fall and break your back

When inventory comes along
You just whip it
When the boss comes on too strong
You must whip it
When it’s taking way too long
You really whip it

Now whip it
In a day
Write it up
Make it fake
Keep on moving
You’ll get ahead
They won’t inspect it
It’s not too late
To whip it
Whip it good

When the sun is setting down
You must whip it
You’ll never get it done
Unless you whip it
No one really cares
They know you whip it

Pencil-whip it
Whip it good
Pencil-whip it
Whip it good

Whip that list
Give the rack a slap
Climb down from the stack
Don’t fall and break your back

When inventory comes along
You just whip it
When the boss comes on too strong
You must whip it
When it’s taking way too long
You really whip it

Now whip it
In a day
Write it up
Make it fake
Keep on moving
You’ll get ahead
They won’t inspect it
It’s not too late
To whip it
In a day
Write it up
Make it fake
Keep on moving
You’ll get ahead
They won’t inspect it
It’s not too late
To whip it
Whip it good

No whipping it on this job.

Responsible Firearm Use - Having the Conversation

2008-12-30T10:19:00.000-08:00

Some people are passionately pro-gun and others are just as passionately against gun ownership. It's to the point where we haven't been having a more rational discussion about what constitutes responsible use of a firearm. Hunting, in season, and with a valid license is, of course using a firearm responsibly. But what about shooting people?

When is it appropriate to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger? And this is the conversation we need to have, particularly with our young people who have access to weapons either through their families or their friends.

I would say that it's not appropriate to shoot someone because they hurt your feelings or because you feel some disrespected you. Part of being an emotionally mature adult is the ability to take an insult without resorting to violence.

It's not appropriate to shoot someone to settle an argument or because the person pissed you off. Angry feelings pass. Death is forever.

It's not appropriate to shoot someone because they've taken something from you -- car, money, job, girlfriend, boyfriend, husband, or wife. Loss is painful, and being a grownup means learning how to handle loss, rebuild your life and move on to something better.

Playing with guns or showing them off to others can be very dangerous. Every year people are killed by a gun someone was sure wasn't loaded. Even professional gun handlers sometimes have a negligent discharge of a weapon.

Always assume a gun is loaded until you have personally verified that it isn't. If you don't know how to do this, either take a firearms safety course or don't touch guns or be around others who are playing with them or showing them off. It's perfectly reasonable to say, "I don't feel safe here." and leave.

Know your local laws concerning gun ownership and use. Some places allow handguns to be carried openly in public. Some places require a permit to carry a concealed weapon. Some jurisdictions will allow you to shoot someone who's breaking into your home or car. In some places you can only legally shoot someone if they are an immediate and deadly threat to your or someone else's life.

Guns are a fact of life in America. Whether you are pro or anti-gun, they aren't going to just disappear. Our young people either have guns or can easily get them. It's time to have the conversation about responsible use.

I got a crew together and photographed this project out of my own pocket. Here's the photo. I'm making a poster of it using much of the above text. When the poster is finished I'll post a link to it so that you civic-minded folks can buy copies and distribute them.

Guy is showing off his new gun to his girlfriend. Girlfriend takes the gun by the trigger. Gun goes off. Boyfriend goes bye-bye.

Order the poster here:
http://clearlake.photostockplus.com/album_253993

On Rumors

2008-10-18T13:49:00.000-07:00

Rumors are a great way to influence people's opinions about someone. They generally work, at least for a time, because the rumors circulate before the person knows about them and because the person has no way to give their side of the story or otherwise mount a defense before the damage to their reputation has been done.

Rumors are conviction without trial. Lynching without rope.

Rumors can be useful though. You can start a rumor about yourself - nothing damaging, but something interesting and juicy, and see how it spreads. You can learn a lot about your personal connections that way. It's interesting to see who actually follows up by asking you directly about what they've heard and who simply doesn't care if what they're heard is true or not or what your side of the story might be. Some people just love to spread rumors. And some people will smile in your face today and spread rumors about you tomorrow. It's nice to know who those people are.

Sometimes we're told that we're paranoid to think that people want to do us harm. It's a sad day when you find out you haven't been paranoid enough.

Thoughts on Europe

2008-09-21T16:49:00.000-07:00

I've done a bit of traveling through Europe -- not staying in any one place for more than two or three days. Just enough to see the major sights and get a bit of the flavor of the place. Foremost in my mind for each of the places we visited was, "Could I live here?"

London: Full of history, but with it's history chained around its neck and weighted with the obligations of past Empire. London is a welfare state for nations that were once British colonies. That the Empire is ended and those nations now independent (though poor and backwards by comparison) seems not to matter, as legions of Indian, West African and Middle Eastern refugees pour into London to live on welfare. To live in London would be to work hard so others don't have to.

Brussels, Belgium: Almost a nation. I've been in places where the street signs and other signs are in different languages -- places where tourists and out-of-towners need a simple way to find their ways around and get on in a foreign country. The street signs in Brussels are in four languages -- not because of tourists, but because the residents won't agree on a common language. Their historical animosities barely hidden beneath a veneer of fine chocolate. Even now, the centrifugal forces of history are tearing Belgium apart, as if this house-divided was ever actually together to begin with.

Amsterdam: Amsterdam is a working city that has tourists -- much like San Francisco. The beauty of Amsterdam lies in its functionality -- the efficient canal system, the bicycle-friendly streets, the tidy houses and shops. The public transit system is reliable and inexpensive. The people are unobtrusive, but not unfriendly -- they mind their business and leave you to yours. I could probably find work there, in a restaurant or shop, bicycle to work, and live in a modest boarding-house. In its relaxed and racially-mixed social atmosphere, I'd blend in, spending my free time sipping Amstel at the Star and maybe picking up a few words of Flemish.

Germany: I love Germany, Austria and Bavaria - The Black Forest, Vienna, Berlin, the Rhine Valley. The accommodations were always top-notch, the people warm and generous, the service efficient and yet not forced. But I don't understand how Germany works. I know they import a lot of foreign labor for the menial jobs, but it seems that you have to be an insider to really make it there. I've never been an insider anywhere.

Switzerland: Same as above. There's no place for me there, as much as I love the beauty of the places we visited there.

Venice, Italy: Unlike Amsterdam, Venice seems to exist solely as a tourist attraction. I'm sure that there must be a life for the Venetians -- disconnected from tourism, but I saw none of it while I was there. In fact, it seems that money that should go for basic infrastructure for the residents is habitually diverted to support tourism. It's a beautifully strange city, Venice, but not a home.

Rome, Italy: I totally get Rome. It's an old city that's built the new on top of the old and kept going. It's a hard-working, blue-collar kind of town where life goes on even though the city is flooded with camera-toting tourists. It reminds me of Pittsburgh, where I grew up. Big-boned, aware of its importance in history, but without making a fuss of it.

I could get a job unloading boxes from trucks and stacking them in the stockroom, get a cheap flat (with the boss' help) and know that my co-workers would be willing to trade my hard labor for my lack of fluency in Italian. And I know that they'd never let a darky like me into their inner world. I wouldn't advance there, but I could live there, learn Italian, and best the locals at bocce and checkers. I'd learn to make really good focaccia -- just because I like it so much.

Paris: I don't quite understand Paris. It's lovely, and I learned enough French to get around. There's something about the libertinism of Parisionners that is self-limiting.

Similar to the political-correctness running rampant in America -- freedom constrained by preconceptions of what freedom should be. Paris reminded me of Berkeley -- liberal, but within very strict (and Marxist inspired) definitions of freedom.

Nice, France: Nice was easier to grasp. It's a working town, a port city with all that that implies -- workers, hustlers, tourists, shopkeepers, the up-and-coming, the down-and-out. It's the French Riviera, on a budget. It would be a great place for an ex-pat of modest means to retire to.

Monaco: If I was ridiculously wealthy I'd park my 180-foot yacht (with helicopter on the top deck) and hang out in the casinos playing Banco, smoking Cuban cigars and telling stories -- switching between French, Russian, Italian, German, Flemish and Farsi as naturally as dabbing the corners of my caviar-encrusted lips with an embroidered napkin. I'd walk with a natural swagger, like the villain, "Largo" in Thunderball and, of course have my team of henchmen and maybe a swimming pool full of man-eating sharks. Why not dream big? It's that kind of place.

And maybe that's why I love living here, in the San Francisco Bay Area. There's real Belgian chocolate on a side street in Sunnyvale. Great Dim Sum in San Francisco, Oakland and Newark. A Russian Deli right up the street, and good, hearty German food and beer in downtown San Jose. I have fresh Polish Kielbasa in my fridge made in a Polish sausage factory just a couple of blocks from where I live.

There's great Vietnamese food in the same shopping mall where I get my hair cut. There's great Greek food in Berkeley, fresh seafood on Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco (never mind the tourists), I've had Ethiopian, French, Italian, Persian, Mexican and Nicaraguan food, within an hours drive of San Francisco. Korean, Indian (northern, central and southern), Afghani (boulani is to die for), Hawaiian, Japanese -- It's all here, along with the languages and cultures the people brought here with them. Of course there's good old American barbeque and Soul Food, California nouveau cuisine, Fusion, and a assortment of family-owned diners with their own regional and cultural twists.

As much as I love to travel, I really don't need a plane ticket to taste other cultures -- just curious taste buds.

Some things are hard to find here though - Nepalese pizza, good Gelato, Cotto Salami, and Tapas. We need some good Tapas bars here -- otherwise, I'm going back to Amsterdam.

Big Fat Risks

2008-08-22T19:57:00.000-07:00

Getting an Election

2008-08-22T19:49:00.000-07:00

Frustration - Computer Software

2008-08-22T18:13:00.000-07:00

The Protection Racket

2008-08-22T17:44:00.003-07:00

You've experienced them. They slow down your computer. They cause your software to freeze while you're trying to get something done. They take over your mouse and keyboard. They run in the background, doing who knows what -- downloading, uploading, popping up messages at odd times. They cost you time and money.

You know what I'm talking about. Yes. Anti-Virus software. The very stuff that's supposed to protect us from malicious software exhibits the same behavior as the stuff they're supposed to protect us from.

And they keep telling us we need more protection -- from spyware, corrupted registries, malicious websites, infected email, trojans, worms, spam, keyboard captures, lions, tigers, bears, and flying monkeys.

I'm so protected, I can hardly move.

And that's not to say that there aren't bad things out there that can cause serious problems, including identity theft and data loss.

It's just that it seems like this anti-virus software has become like hiring the Mafia to protect your store. Eventually, you realize that you've traded an occasional big problem for a chronic demand for more and more and more resources.

Hold on. Something just updated itself and now I have to reboot the computer. See you later.

The CIA Torture Video "Scandal"

2007-12-24T10:53:00.000-08:00

It seems that things have died down a bit on this, but investigations continue as to the legality of the CIA's erasing of the torture videos.

First, I don't understand why they made tapes in the first place -- nothing but trouble could result, as it has. Secondly, the incident was apparently investigated and the tapes were no longer needed as evidence. Third, if the tapes had been kept they would eventually have been leaked and ended up on YouTube for every 13-year-old and potential terrorist to see.

Finally, it seems to me that the CIA has a duty to protect its sources and methods. Having a torture tape floating around has the potential to expose both sources and methods to people who might use the information to our disadvantage.

By destroying the tapes, the CIA was doing their job of keeping secrets secret.

Getting Smart About Cars

2007-10-26T09:01:00.000-07:00

If you've ever tried to find a parking spot in Berkeley or San Francisco neighborhoods you know the problem. You can drive around for a long time looking for a parking spot.

I've seen cars and motorcycles parked on the sidewalk, against corners, and parked in the turning lanes of some San Francisco streets.

This problem likely exists in most large cities where there are dense populations, families with two or more cars, and no more room for the city to spread out.

Compounding the problem is people buying large trucks and SUVs that take up more valuable parking space, along with commercial parking spaces becoming smaller to squeeze in cars to make just that much more money, or provide parking for more customers.

Well! What if you could park two cars in the same space, side-by-side? A two-car family would only take the space of one car. You could fit into the space left when some jerk straddles two parking spaces. Instead of parallel parking, you could just back up to the curb.

That would be pretty smart, wouldn't it? Especially if the car could hold a driver and a passenger and have room for groceries. What if it was also a fuel-efficient hybrid with enough engine power to cruise the Autobahn?

That would be very smart indeed.

Well, it's been done.

Get yours:
SmartUSA

The Two Kinds of Power

2007-09-09T10:32:00.001-07:00

The power to make something happen.

The power to stop something from happening.

Some people like to flex their power by making things happen. Others like to flex their power by stopping things from happening. Most of our lives are spent mostly on one side of this power struggle or the other.

It's pretty easy to stop things from happening. Just say no. Stonewall. Be indecisive. Lose a file. Forget an appointment. Put someone on hold.

It takes a lot of initiative, courage, patience, skill and effort to make something happen. The people who are good at this know how to negotiate, distract, misdirect, and in other ways deal with the people who like slamming on the brakes.

I admire people who make things happen. It's not something I'm good at.

Iraq - Time to Take Over?

2007-08-26T10:50:00.000-07:00

The current government in Iraq is ineffective. The infrastructure of the country is in shambles. American troops are no longer feared or respected by their opponents.

Is it time for the U.S. to take over the government of Iraq? What would be the benefits and hazards of such a move.

On the positive side of the equation, restructuring the government under U.S. military command would eliminate a lot of the financial corruption that is hindering progress towards rebuilding basic infrastructure. Political and legal institutions could be stabilized and enforced. Security would be firmly in U.S. hands, reducing the likelihood of insurgents infiltrating security units.

Increased security would allow the Army Corp of Engineers to rebuild the public and economic infrastructure of the country, bringing a sense of normalcy to the average Iraqi citizen.

Over time, the Iraqis themselves would be transitioned into the roles held by U.S. forces. Control of the government would be turned back over to the Iraqis once the institutions have stabilized and are accepted as the new norm.

The downside issues are:

1) That the United States would be perceived as a conquering nation. I think that perception already exists, except that the U.S. is seen as an ineffective conquerer rather than a successful one.

2) It would take 30 to 50 years before Iraq would be stable enough and secure enough for the U.S. to turn control over to the Iraqis. America doesn't seem to have the stomach for such a long campaign.

3) It's questionable that the U.S. has the personnel in numbers sufficient to carry out a long nation-building process without cutting into forces need in Afghanistan and elsewhere.

The U.S. going to lose Iraq to Al Qaeda and Iran because they're not willing to take full responsibility for rebuilding a nation that they invaded and destroyed. America got rid of the Shah of Iran and left a void that was filled by people who are even worse. It seems they're going to make the same mistake again in Iraq.

The Smell of an Adult

2007-08-10T08:58:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, my father often took me with him to places where he hung out with his friends. They smoked, drank, talked about sports, women, politics, The War (meaning WWII). The adult world had a distinct smell: hard liquor, tobacco, cheap cologne.

My father smoked cigarettes and sometimes one of his many pipes. He drank beer from brown bottles and brown drinks from clear glasses. He wore Brut cologne. My grandfather smoked White Owl cigars, drank Old Grandad whiskey and wore Old Spice.

The women too had similar smells of smoke, booze and Chanel #5.

The adult world and the world of children was separated by heavy risk and heavy responsibility. Adults took care of things, got things done, had the answers or knew where to find them. They took chances with life and risked loss and death to make sure others were safe and comfortable. They fought dirty when that's what it took to win.

What do adults smell like now? We're not allowed to smoke. We drink wine, designer beers, and cocktails in Crayola colors. We don't wear colognes or perfumes for fear of offending those who are sensitive to odors and "chemicals". We wear seatbelts because we have to. We've outlawed drinking and driving. There's even talk of banning smoking in vehicles. One of my uncles would drive us around in his DeSoto while smoking a cigar and sipping a beer -- no power steering. If the car had seatbelts, I never saw them being used.

I struck out on my own when I was 17 years old. There's talk now of redefining the age of adulthood to 23 years of age for the purpose of providing universal health coverage for children. If some people have their way, adults will always smell like Kool-Aid and bubble gum.