June 2009

It was late, about the time the clubs start to let out in Las Vegas. I was a deer hunter in a tree stand. Just sitting and waiting. It’s not quite fish in a barrel, but when the club guys (aka Los Angeles Douchebagicus) begin their migration from the clubs and toward the DUI arrests and Rohypnol cage, they are a lot easier to convince to play cards. I had a stack of green, 14 stacks of red, and a bottle of beer I wouldn’t finish. That’s when The Club Guy sat down with $600 (six stacks of red) and proved within one hand he had no idea how to play cards. Before long, he had destroyed everybody at the table (except me, fortunately) and run his $600 to north of $6,000. He couldn’t lose. He couldn’t stack his chips.

The beauty of it was, no matter how hard his friends pushed him, he wouldn’t get up. He was in a sick zone and almost unaware of what he was doing. Then, some old, cranky drunk said something snide that snapped Club Guy out of it. Club Guy looked up as if waking from a dream, stood, and left with everybody’s money. I had 2,000 bullets and my gun jammed against the guy. Not only did he destroy the table, he left before I could put him out of his misery. Like the Great White Whale of Club Guys, I’ve been looking for this guy ever since, and will again when I’m in Vegas this weekend for work.

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality:

• The 500 Club
• The 500 Club Redux

January 2009

I have made a number of bad decisions in my life, but never any that have resulted in me having so much money in my pocket that I couldn’t count it in public. I was in Vina del Mar, Chile and made a series of exceptionally poor decisions that led me through a bar, to an ATM, to a poker table, and eventually to bed before a long day of work. When I finally got around to counting what I had in my pocket, it took laying all the bills out on my bed so I could see it all at once. It was there in the posh Chilean hotel/casino that I discovered I had 1.2 million in Chilean cash. If you’re wondering why I’m still humping a computer job after that big score, you can find the whole story over at How I became a millionaire. Turns out you can’t get very far with Chilean millions.

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality:

• Northern man
• Six thing learned in six days

I noticed yesterday that I have about 120 photos on my iPhone that I have taken over the past ten months. Most of those photos end up getting posted to my Twitter feed or Facebook. They rarely appear here because the picturess generally suck. Still, they are sort of a visual record of my 2009.

So, for the next month or so, I’m going to post one of the photos and the briefest of stories about it. Hey, at least it’s something, ya know?

***

Anna Nicole Smith’s final rest
January 2009

It’s a long and winding road around the Caribbean Sea that leads from Paradise Island, through the heart of Nassau, and on to the airport that would eventually take me off the island for another year. Once again, after more than a week in the heart of the islands’ biggest poker event, I found myself weary and in the back of a cab.

The cab slowed just enough as we passed the salmon-colored gates the guard the little cemetery on the ocean’s edge. There, somewhere in the ground laid the body of Anna Nicole Smith. She was a woman who sought fame and found it. She was a woman who wanted money and found it, too. Now she was as dead as everybody else in the sandy ground alongside the highway. For all her life of reality excess, she was now part of what could only be described as a rolling sight-seeing trip in a place far more beautiful that her legacy could ever boast.

We didn’t stop.

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality:

• Chilean millionaire
• The Club Guy
• Anna Nicole Smith redux

If you know anything about me, you know I never really went back. I moved again, fell in love with the South Carolina foothills, and came to enjoy most everything around it. Though I could’ve gone back to Missouri five years ago, I discovered I’d established more than a home base here. I’d built a home with family, friends, and just about everything I need.

That’s a long way of explaining why I sat down last night and spliced together a quick video of my older boy being himself.

See, my folks have had quite a bit of freedom over the past five years. When we’re not able to make it up to Missouri to see them, they’ve done all the can to make it down here to visit us and their grandkids. Recent events back in Missouri have made it so they can’t travel much in the short term.

I’ve got quite a bit going on right now and can’t make the trip up to see them until after the holidays. And, I honestly feel pretty damned guilty about that. So, I put together a video that was meant almost entirely for them. And then I showed it to my boy and he did something…well…something that’s both like him and not like him at all.

He watched it with wide eyes, then turned to me and gave me a giant hug and kiss. Then he called it the ’sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him.’

And that sorta made me misty.

So, in an effort to push down the Halloween story below (the one that was described by one person as “twisted”), here’s a long, poorly-edited video of my kid being my kid.

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality:

• A friend’s work
• The flour did not prepare me

This year as we edged up on Halloween, I decided I wanted to write something else. I thought it would be fun to write a quirky little ghost story. You know, for the kids and stuff.

So, I sat back and started writing. What came out at the end wasn’t so much a quirky little ghost story as…well, whatever this is. I wrote it all while listening to Gob Iron’s “Death Songs for the Living” and, because I’m getting slammed with work, decided to post it a couple days ahead of Halloween.

I’m not saying it’s good, but it’s screwed up enough to hold this spot while I finish up some paid work over the next few days. I call it…

Between Friends

Boo.

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality:

• Shameless Happy Plug
• Kid Hero

So, when a friend of mine and I started discussing Afghanistan a few days ago, I was pleased that I wasn’t the only left-leaning person to wonder why–if we want to kill terrorists and potential terrorists–we’re doing it by occupying a country rather than employing the abilities of the CIA and some very talented tactical teams.

Then yesterday morning I read an article from the Washington Post that made me think I may not be too far off the reservation. It tells the story of a Marine captain turned Foreign Service officer who resigned from his position because, quoting him directly, “I have lost understanding of and confidence in the strategic purposes of the United States’ presence in Afghanistan.” (Read his whole letter here.)

I think that officer, Matthew Hoh, represents a man people on both sides of the aisle should meet. That is, we bleeding hearts didn’t hate the war in Iraq just because we disagreed with Bush. We hated it because we never saw any clear reason for so many people to die. Further, we didn’t support the idea of being in Afghanistan just because Obama said it was a good idea. We are people who that hate the idea of war but will accept it as a necessary evil.

Hoh is sort on other side. That is, he likes the idea of being a hawk. He’s spent his life doing it. Or as he put it:

“I’m not some peacenik, pot-smoking hippie who wants everyone to be in love,” Hoh said. Although he said his time in Zabul was the “second-best job I’ve ever had,” his dominant experience is from the Marines, where many of his closest friends still serve.

“There are plenty of dudes who need to be killed,” he said of al-Qaeda and the Taliban. “I was never more happy than when our Iraq team whacked a bunch of guys.” –From the Washington Post’s U.S. official resigns over Afghan war

But, he’s a man with a conscience. He believes the people in Afghanistan are fighting largely because they have a target in the occupying Americans. If people don’t have to die, if the war can be fought effectively in another way, if there is no good reason to be at war, then why put American lives at risk?

So today, President Obama, it is your duty to tell us, your supporters, why we should support the U.S. Military’s continued efforts in Afghanistan. It’s crazy that I’m hearing louder arguments in your favor from your former opponent than from you.

You made me believe. You made me vote. Now make me understand.

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality:

• Music wish list

Yet, there are still people in the U.S. Senate–29 of them, in fact–who voted against the latest addition to the federal hate crime law¹. One of those people is South Carolina Senator Jim DeMint.

DeMint was my Congressman for a while and is now my Senator. I interviewed him countless times and traveled in his circles for several years. I feel comfortable I know from whence the man is coming. Still, when I read this from the New York Times, I couldn’t help but shake my head.

Opponents argued to no avail that the new measure was unnecessary in view of existing laws and might interfere with local law enforcement agencies. Senator Jim DeMint, Republican of South Carolina, said he agreed that hate crimes were terrible. “That’s why they are already illegal,” Mr. DeMint said, asserting that the new law was a dangerous, even “Orwellian” step toward “thought crime.”

Thought crime? Yeah, it seems a little silly of a phrase, but DeMint’s wont is to parrot it the talking points from the Family Research Council. This come directly from the FRC’s position paper on hate crime legislation:

Why do you call them “thought crimes”?

Violent attacks upon people or property are already illegal, regardless of the motive behind them. With “hate crime” laws, however, people are essentially given one penalty for the actions they engaged in, and an additional penalty for the politically incorrect thoughts that allegedly motivated those actions.

Ah, so the FRC (and, by extension, DeMint) are concerned about additional penalties being assigned based on the motive for a crime. I find that interesting, because there are laws on the books that do the same thing for other motives.

For instance, some sex crime laws allow for steeper punishments when the sexual assault is perpetrated on a child. The same goes for the murder of a police officer or other public official. In fact, here is one section of South Carolina’s list of aggravating circumstances that allows for the death penalty in a murder case (with my emphasis added):

…the murder of a judicial officer, former judicial officer, solicitor, former solicitor, or other officer of the court during or because of the exercise of his official duty

.

In both of the above cases, steeper punishments are assigned to crimes based on the alleged motive and target (the FRC and DeMint’s so-called “thoughts”). I can’t help but wonder if DeMint would vote against a law protecting police officers and children from people who attack them based on who they are…because after all, a rape is a rape, even if it’s against a child, and police officers deserve no greater protection from the law than average citizens…right, Senator?

Of course, we should probably understand DeMint’s position. He comes from South Carolina, one of just a handful of states (five or less by my count) that have no hate crime legislation. That is, in the Palmetto State, you can attack a man based only on the fact he is black, Christian, homosexual, or handicapped and receive no greater penalty than if you attacked him for any other reason.

America creates its laws based on what it finds distasteful and wrong. Our system of laws is based on our perception of right and wrong and how people should be penalized for disregarding societal conventions. We base our penalties on an occasionally arbitrary system of how many degrees of wrong something is. We have decided, at least in some cases, that motive can play a role in the severity of a punishment.

So, ask yourself Senator, which is more abhorrent: Punching a guy in the nose because he spilled beer on your wife or punching a guy in the nose because he is homosexual?

If you think they are the same thing, exchange the word homosexual for “Christian” or “American” and see if it makes you think any differently.

1. The actual vote was on the conference report for H.R. 2647 (National Defense Authorization Act for Fiscal Year 2010).

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality:

The Susan Smith story put Union County on the map. The woman’s lie held everybody breathless. The claim that a black man had carjacked Smith’s vehicle and run off with her children set the county on edge and handcuffed the nation’s attention. Smith held fast to her story. It seemed nothing could break her. Then Sheriff Howard Wells took Smith’s hand and prayed with her.

It was a simple little cop trick he played. He told a a white lie that set her off her tracks. Moments later, as Wells would tell a jury, Smith asked for his service weapon so she could kill herself. The young blonde woman confessed and Wells became, for the moment, the best lawman on this side of the Mississippi.

Fourteen years can change a lot. Smith is in prison for life. Wells is no longer the sheriff. He is now, with three other man, under federal indictment.

The case itself takes a long time to explain. It involves lying to federal investigators, kickbacks, county government corruption, and, on the sexiest of angles, using a county office as a stash house for cocaine and prescription drugs. The best reporting on the story thus far is coming from the Spartanburg Hearld-Journal. Check out this explainer to get a feel for the depth and importance of the story.

Of course, someone has to come in and save the day. Someone has to bring order to the chaos. Someone has a job to do. And that brings me to a picture that pretty much defines South Carolina as it stands today.

That’s a photo taken by Gerry Pate in yesterday’s SHJ story from top reporter Jason Spencer in which we learn that Governor Mark Sanford (yes, thatMark Sanford) headed up to Union County to appoint and swear in a new county clerk to replace the one who resigned while under State Law Enforcement Division investigation.

And people wonder why I never bothered to leave the Palmetto State.

It was the SHJ’s Spencer who tipped me to a fantastic L.A. Times article on the state I’ve called home for a decade. Here’s the CliffsNotes version:

It’s the latter of these that makes reporters like Spencer (who you can follow on Twitter here) such an asset to people like me–voracious news consumers who need real reporting, regular follow-ups, and subjects that are more than just “talk around the water cooler” material. Spencer doesn’t spend his day looking for stories that will make people buy his paper on one day. He looks for stories that will make people buy his paper every day.

Over the past 15 years since the Susan Smith story, it’s been hard not to notice a shift in the people who manage journalists. While the business of TV news and newspapers has always been about making money, it’s becoming more and more common to see news managers and producers shrug off what used to be the first order of the day: journalism. Now, it’s not uncommon to hear the top dogs say without a hint of regret, “It’s a business. We’re here to make money.”

That’s where the line is and why there are so many complaints about the state of journalism today. The good news managers are the ones who find ways to appease the corporate overlords while still respecting the tenets of journalism. Those people still exist, but they are becoming increasingly hard to find. My friend CJ (with whom, admittedly, I have many a disagreement) is one of them. He is one of the people who can remain true to his craft while still respecting he has to make money for his company. There is nothing wrong with either side of the coin, but it takes a pretty talented person to not go the easy route and cheapen the news by turning into a televised online forum where people post pictures of their kids and dogs.

When I first heard Elise Hu and Matt Stiles were getting out of the business, I chalked it up to two more people who weren’t up to fighting the losing battle in which I surrendered five years ago. Then I heard where they were going, and I couldn’t be more proud to know them.

Hu and Stiles are among a small group of Texas journalists who are starting up the non-profit Texas Tribune, a fresh media outlet with the stated goal of being “‘A non-profit, nonpartisan public media organization” with the mission “promote civic engagement and discourse on public policy, politics, government, and other matters of statewide concern.”

It’s one of those “wow…just wow” concepts that makes me remember why I believed in journalism in the first place.

To point out the Texas Tribune as something fantastic is not to say that all media outlets should follow the example and go non-profit. However, it should provide inspiration for all journalists to find a way to work on stories that matter, a way to make people watch when their kid is not on TV, and a way to look at themselves in the mirror and think, “I did something good today.”

South Carolina is a great place to be a journalist and people who manage journalists in this state would do well to remember they have a lot of extraordinary opportunities to do good work here. There is no lack of material, and just because it’s harder and doesn’t show results in the daily ratings books, it doesn’t mean that people don’t hunger for it and won’t pay for it if you do it right.

As the L.A. Times story reminded us, in 1860 an attorney named James Petigru called South Carolina, “too small for a republic and too large for an insane asylum.”

And that’s a place where real journalism should thrive.

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality:

• RIP Tim Russert
• If you don’t want an answer…

A few seconds later, I was in the hallway with all my gear and a few hundred other people. If Mike hadn’t said that to me, my computer, backpack, and passport would still be in that room. Hence, I would still be in Mexico instead of getting out on the first flight I could find yesterday. — Rear cover in Mexico, December 2008

Traveling internationally requires a certain false confidence. A traveler should always appear as though he knows what he’s doing, so as to not become an immediate target for ne’er-do-wells. A traveler should always let himself believe he knows what he’s doing, so as to not allow fear to ruin an experience. A traveler should balance both of he above with a certain latent uncertainty, so as to not get so overconfident that he stops paying attention.

Although well traveled, I’m no expert. Still, despite what could’ve been some tricky situations, I’ve managed to keep myself safe on the road when in the presence of crooked Mexican federales, a horde of angry Argentinians, and a Chilean guy named Pablo (all true and as yet untold-by-me stories by the way).

Monday’s mail was a pleasant surprise. Apparently, the client who sends me around the world thought it proper to buy me some travel insurance. Although I don’t receive health insurance for that gig, someone in the HR department must have figured it was a good idea to cover me in case of an emergency. So, now, if something bad happens while I’m out of the road, I can get medical and legal care without having to go broke.

It’s a really good and really specific policy. For instance, I know if I should break my arm while on a banana boat ride (see page 17 of the policy definitions book), I am covered. If I am mugged and my money is stolen, I am covered. If the claim results directly–and I’m quoting here–from “being an alcoholic,” then I am on my own.

All of it seemed fairly standard and I’ll admit some joy at being given something of at least some value by the client. Still, I couldn’t help but laugh when I reached page 51.

Section 16 — Hijack

This section of the policy sets out the benefit we pay in the event of a hijack.

What is covered

In the event the insured person is prevented from reaching their scheduled destination through hijack of the aircraft or other vehicle they are traveling

£50 per day per complete 24 hours the insured person is incarcerated

The most we will pay for each insured person under the policy per trip is £1,000.

And that’s it. Despite being so comprehensive as to explain which activities are covered (roller skating on a recognized rink) and which events do not receive coverage (injury caused by war, riot, invasion, revolution, or civil commotion), the section on hijacking left me wanting a bit.

I mean…£50? I’m going to sit in a hot airplane all day (for up to 20 days of coverage) with a guy who has a bomb strapped to his ass and is crying because Alyssa Milano never returns his calls and I’m only getting $75 a day? That’s less than minimum wage. I do things for fun that I wouldn’t do for £50 a day.

So, to my client: Thank you. You’ve made me feel a little safer on the road. I will feel much better about any on piste skiing I do and will be very careful about getting hijacked, because I’m not sure being incarcerated for 20 days would even cover the deductible.

Other posts from Rapid Eye Reality: