Lazlo's Lament

She Put A Little Love In Our Hearts

2012-01-03T15:24:00.001-08:00

The idea of family has always been an interesting subject. From the family you come from, to the family you bring into the world, to the family that that family builds, you get a pretty big tree with pretty big branches and a mess of twigs. With each of those branches come a number of different personalities, temperaments, talents, goals, and the occasional arrest warrant. Though we’re all stuck in this grand grouping through what can only be assumed is a science experiment conducted by God, we find a way to make it all work and get along.

I’ve been blessed with the greatest of extended families I could have ever hoped for. From my grandparents, to my parents, to their siblings, to my siblings, to my cousins, to my children and, now, to their children, I couldn’t have drawn up a nicer looking tree. Sure, there has been the odd outlier among my broader brood, but even they have their charms.

This brings me to the biggest news and is something of a buried lead. The Boy and The Ber made a grandfather out of me on December 29 at 9:38 a.m. Little Livy added a bud to the Laz family tree and it’s already so easy to see she will bloom into the prettiest of flowers. Theologians and other weighty thinkers have long wondered if babies float in some kind of heaven and wait to be plucked down and given to the next family in line, or if the baby’s soul makes a conscious decision to join the family of its choice. I lean toward the latter; even more so since Livy decided to join the clan.

It’s difficult to explain, but one gets the feeling that we’ve met before and there’s an instantaneous and wonderful connection. When the boy looked into her eyes -- not for the first time, but for the first time following the stress of birth -- the two paired and they both understood this was a lifelong deal they had just made. Together, with no strings attached. How blessed I was to be able to see that. When she decided she had enough stimulation in her first hours of life, she nestled into The Ber’s arms, put her head on her tiny hands and looked as comfortable and safe as one could imagine. The Ber was born to give comfort to such a small thing that already had jumped in a big way into all our hearts.

When The Boy was born, I had this instant connection and knew the world would forever revolve around him. When The Girl made headlines she was going to turn a three-person family into four, I was really worried. It was impossible for me to believe I had any room left in my heart for a new arrival. I honestly thought The Boy had soaked up all the love I had to give. However, the moment The Girl made her arrival I knew. Love is not a finite thing. If you have more to love, your capacity to love grows equally. What a great gift from the manufacturer of the human body! If we need more love, we get an extra tank in our heart to love even more.

And so it comes to Livy. She doesn’t take an ounce of love away from anyone. Besides the special gift she brings all bundled up in her onesie, she added an extra tank in the hearts of the new papa and momma, Rexi, Grandma GG, Auntie Em, Nonna Jo, Grandpa Dan, a few dozen other twigs on the branch and, especially, to the one who puts his words and his heart out on this blog from time to time. Thank you Livy for blessing us all with your arrival and, no, you can’t borrow my car when you turn 16.

Arab Spring, Russian Winter and The Politics of Revolution

2011-12-13T17:25:00.000-08:00

Whenever journalists and activists for democratic change get together to name a movement, it’s time to hunker down in the tall grass. In 2004 we had the Orange Revolution in Ukraine, which had been preceded by the Rose Revolution in Georgia, the Bulldozer Revolution in Serbia, and even the Yellow Revolution in the Philippines and later the Cedar Revolution in Lebanon.

While the U.S. had a dirty hand in all of the above, none worked out well for our foreign policy. In Ukraine, more than $160 million of your taxes was spent to overturn a flawed, but accurate, election only to produce a lazy, incompetent leader for the sole reason of tweaking the Russians. In Georgia, it was much the same thing. Foreign policy leaders and the NGO community pushed out an old Soviet foreign minister who had been very helpful in reaching Détente with the U.S. at the height of the Cold War in order to install an American-educated, but deeply-imperfect leader. Our man in Georgia ended up being more autocratic than any Soviet leader and nearly caused WWIII in 2008 when he decided to take bazooka shots at the Russians.

In Lebanon, following the assassination of Prime Minister Rafik Hariri, U.S. policy wonks were giddy because of public uprisings aimed at pushing out the Syrian army and removing the influence Syria had on Lebanese affairs. Free elections and the removal of Syrian troops were called for during months of protests. Ultimately, the troops left and Lebanon got the free elections they demanded. For all their trouble, Syrians, through their surrogates in Hezbollah, killed a bunch of people (targeting Christians) and Hezbollah became the leading elected force which now controls Lebanon with the (ironic) military support of Syria and Iran. This hasn’t been a good thing for America, Israel and least of all the Lebanese people.

Early in the year, protests that began in Tunisia to oust an unpopular leadership led to what was been dubbed the Arab Spring. Uprisings moved to Egypt, Libya, Yemen and Syria. Three of the uprisings, Tunisia, Egypt and Libya, have led to a change in government from either an ally of the U.S. or at least a benign leader, to countries now run by the Muslim Brotherhood, one of the oldest anti-West, pro Sharia Law movements in the Middle East. As awful as the dictators ousted during the uprisings were (including the murder of one leader), they will seem like Laissez-Faire governments compared to the rules that will be laid down once Sharia Law goes into full affect. As for the stability of the region, Egypt was the only country sharing a border with Israel that demonstrated a modicum of respect for its simple existence. Lebanon once did before Hezbollah took control and now it’s a launching pad for hundreds of mortar rockets into Israel.

The Syrian army has butchered Syria’s revolutionaries and organizers have been rounded up by Syrian intelligence services, never to be heard from again. Despite strongly worded demands by the U.S., Europe and the New York Times, Syrian President al-Assad has opted to stay in power. I guess strongly worded statements don’t carry the same clout they once did.

And now to Russia and, with this, the pissing off of many of my friends who either live there or work there. Rallies have been held around the country to protest the obviously fixed elections by the Putin-led government. It’s been dubbed the Russian Winter since any revolutionary movement needs a name.

Most insiders think Putin’s United Russia party received just 30% of the vote instead of the offically reported 50%. But the same insiders, along with the pundits and reporters, never mention whom the votes were stolen from. Most would assume votes were siphoned from well-intentioned, democratic-minded candidates. That side of the fence wasn’t even on the ballot due to earlier election fraud and there’s no telling how they would have done had they been represented on the ballot.

The true losers due to vote theft were socialists, Communists and hardline nationalists. This group represents voters who believe Putin doesn’t show enough Stalinist traits, to others who want him to head to the Caucuses and purge a million or so minorities, and still more who just feel Russia needs to move back to Five Year Plans and the Workers’ Paradise. As much as official U.S. policy wants to continue sticking a thumb in Putin’s eye, I think most would agree his government of kleptomaniacs is preferable to the government programs that impoverished nearly a million people at the height of the Cold War.

I know the true democrats in Russia well and I would have been out protesting at their side if I thought it would do any good. These guys are modern thinkers; practical and not into being elected for the purpose of taking 5% off the top for every barrel of oil Russia sells. But they are a true minority who often find difficulty agreeing on a coherent message among themselves. And, in order to march in the protests, I would need to brush shoulders with Bolsheviks (carrying Bolshevik flags that the eagle eyes in the media don’t seem to notice) and ultra-nationalists (carrying three-legged Nazi flags that the eagle eyes in the media don’t seem to notice) and I’d be standing with very few of the democrats because most of them were already in jail.

Don’t get me wrong (especially you Russians). There is need for a change in Russia. But it is change of the organic type that happens over years of disappointment with the current regime and even a change in generations. History hasn’t produced happy results through brute force for change, particularly recent history as I adroitly point out in the magnificent piece. And it certainly hasn’t produced good results that have been helpful for American interests around the world.

It’s far better for our policy makers to keep an eye on the mess that’s stinking up our own country, support our allies as best we can, continue to trade with countries that may not be friendly, but there is a strategic value engaging in trade (or we owe them trillions of dollars). It would be far more prudent to end the foreign policy that an enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine and stay directly and indirectly out of the radical change that this year has brought. Although if the Tea Party wants to start something over here, well ……

Back At It?

2011-11-13T22:23:00.000-08:00

It’s been quite a while since I posted something on this blog and perhaps longer since I wanted to write about anything in particular. It’s not so much a writer’s block or even a lack of material; just more a lack of inertia in searching for the right words to go whirling off my keyboard until they slam into the correct punctuation marks.

Better still, I’m just stuck.

Oh, I have half written posts about a travel incident in Ireland nearly 10 years ago, a few rants about our overwhelmed president doing an underwhelming job, and even a post about finding liberation through speaking the truth. None of them gave me the willingness to share them with what I’m sure is a dwindling audience (maybe this one will never see the light of day either).

The driving force behind this post has less to do about an interesting subject and more to do with attempting to get my groove back so I can sit down and finally finish my damn novel. Along the lines of Seinfeld and the modern-day version of the show, It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia, you could say, without contradiction, this post is about nothing. Now I just need to make nothing look interesting.

More than a year ago, I spent a few hours with one of the best book editors in the business. A novelist herself with a half dozen books published, she is taking time away from a hectic travel schedule promoting her novels in favor of an editing job and a steady paycheck. The purpose of the meeting was to see if she could find an editor to help me finish my book. In the end, she agreed to be that editor. I was surprised and honored she would be willing to do so and I set about to get her my jumbled mess of 420 loosely intertwined pages.

Before I packaged them up, I began to read portions of my novel and thought to myself, Well, I can’t send her this page or this page or this chapter and this chapter. In the end, I talked myself out of sending her a single page and told her my novel needed more work before it was ready for her. I’m sure she knew what that meant in writer-speak – I wasn’t about to let go of an imperfect manuscript, especially to someone who knew a thing or two about not letting go of imperfect manuscripts. I told her I would work out a few kinks and get it to her shortly. Well, that didn’t happen, as I’m sure she knew.

I don’t know what event caused me to pick up my novel again, or even when it was. Maybe it was an unseen force putting my fingers back on the keyboard and my mind back on track or a bit more time on my hands, but I’ve been re-working my novel and hope to have it ready for her to edit by the end of the year (if she’ll take it). I never set out to write a top-selling novel. I merely wanted to write a beginning, middle and end that I could be happy with and maybe share it with people close to me. If it made them happy, that would be enough.

Throughout my life I’ve had a completion problem, so this slog of finishing my novel has become, paradoxically, my epic Old Man And The Sea battle. Finishing it is the only goal now. Yeah, finishing it would make me happy….

La Tristesse Durera Toujours

2011-06-13T20:45:00.000-07:00

That little French line is a translation of the last words Vincent Van Gough’s brother said to him, meaning, The sadness will last forever. I wrote it for two reasons; because it makes me seem a bit more sophisticated and Bohemian, and because it’s true – in losing Bill, the sadness will last forever.

Bill was my “baby” brother, my childhood roommate, my partner and my best friend and I lost all of them at once six years ago today. Rarely a day goes by when I don’t think of him or remember something he would say in a certain situation (often not suitable for a gentle crowd). I have so many memories of him, but I was worried some of the thoughts and memories of others could be forgotten. I pestered a few of his many and eclectic friends to pass on their stories about Bill and several replied with very caring thoughts.

A common theme was that Bill was tall and big and loud. There was no denying that. His voice boomed when he was happy, when he was angry, when he was telling a joke, or, come to mind, whenever he was talking. If you didn’t know him, it could be disarming because it was difficult to know if he was yelling about something, or simply enjoying life.

As loud and big as Bill was, he was also very sensitive. He gave so much of his time to anyone who asked for advice or to have deep, long talks with his kids and Sue. It wasn’t in him to allow someone to feel pain without him trying to help figure out a resolution. We talked so much about personal challenges and happiness that it’s a wonder we ever got any work done.

But rather than having me fill up this space with my thoughts, please read what others had to say about Bill. It’s a bit long, but well worth the read. He had friends from his childhood and from all walks of life and each of them got a different view and a different time from Bill. I hope we all remember him fondly and not with sadness, as he wouldn’t want any part of anyone shedding tears for him. He’d rather tell a joke or sing a song; anything to keep us from crying. We were all better to have had him in our lives, however briefly, and it’s great to keep the flame of his joy and laughter moving on through the years.

What follows are thoughts of his friends and family members and in no particular order.

When we first moved to San Diego, we had about 30 kids living on our street who were all roughly the same age and just about all who were from somewhere else, just like us. One of those early friends, Cindy, had this to say about him: “the biggest thing about Bill was his booming laugh and his absolute joy in taking on life! He pushed boundaries at times to get the experience but was actually gentle in his insistence. I'll always think of him in his high school years with his wild, surfer hair and his huge grin.

As most of you know, Bill didn’t want to just be an actor, he wanted to be a movie star! To get as close as he could to the business, he worked in movie theaters and made a lot of lifelong friends. One was his buddy Scott who wrote, “I was 17 when I first met Bill. He was hired to be the manager of the movie theater that I worked at. He was a very welcome change from the people I had worked with previously- and we quickly became friends.

One of the jobs that Bill and I ended up sharing was to leave the answering machine message for what the showtimes of the movies were. Well, as luck would have it, the theater eventually ran the movie 'The Stuntman' which Bill did extra work on- and had a line in. So, of course, when he did the show times message he said: 'The Poway Theater is proud to present, 'The Stuntman.'!!! Starring Bill Arno and Peter O' Toole!!!'

We also used to have clip boards in the managers office where we could leave each other notes. 'Need supplies', etc. Bill used to leave me somewhat perverted drawings that used to always crack me up. One of the best ones that he left me was picture of himself mooning me saying that I needed to get hotdog buns. Our boss' kids saw it, and unfortunately that was the end of those great notes...” Scott says he can produce the drawings if pressed, but it’s not difficult to believe. I’m sure his brother Peter (and several of his friends, come to think of it) can remember many actual moonings by Bill.

One of our best workers at the office was the daughter of one of Bill’s friends. It actually is painful to know how his friend has suffered the loss of Bill, but also good to know his daughter Amanda remembers him, “Some of my fondest memories of Bill were when he would crack me up with his sound effects and dramatic entries. I will never forget the 'hissing' sound while using his wooden backscratcher as a cat claw prop.”

My daughter Em has this message to Bill, and even adds a bit of Bohemian flair by tossing in the words of W. H. Auden to express her love, “As a young child, I always thought you were mad at us, but I learned very quickly to be an Arno is to be loud and if you weren't loud, you weren't heard! And being heard is very important to us Arno's. All my time with you was special, but the most special times were the simplest. I loved coming to the office when my dad was on the phone because I knew I could go straight to your office and would get a great giggle while you did your impression of Cartman. I loved the stories you told me about Cass and Janee because I could tell in your voice how much you loved them, even when they were creeeps.

I know I carry so many Arno traits, but the one I never seemed to pick up on was collecting. I loved to watch you collect things for your many hobbies and talents. Everytime Kellen gets a new surfboard, I think of you and smile. You live in each one of us and that is a gift that can never be taken away.

Since we lost you, your family has become even more important to me. Cass and Janee feel more like a brother and a sister than cousins and your amazing wife captures everything; aunt, mother, friend and of course therapist. You must be beaming with pride...

Before I say goodbye this time, I would like to leave you with the words from another splendid buggar; "He was my North, my South, my East and West; My working week and my Sunday rest. My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song..."

You will soon permanently be my West when I get a compass tattooed on my ankle - following in your family's footsteps. Thank you for continuing to guide me.”

Gail knew Bill for nearly 30 years, as he sort of came with the larger deal. Although I think she would say he wasn’t a gift you wanted to give back. She was there for the end, too. “I remember nearly exactly every step of the day we got the news he died. I wasn't with you and you told me over the phone, I remember driving to our Orangevale home and how awful my gut felt, I remember going to the office together and telling the team he had died. And I remember my feelings-my heart hurt and my soul ached but mostly I remember being worried for you, being grateful your parents didn't have to endure what we were experiencing and thinking they were welcoming and comforting him in Heaven. I remember his laugh, his voice(s), his honesty, I remember him crying like a baby at your Mother's funeral, I remember his smile when Cass was born, I remember him as honest, he could be brutally honest, he was truly a family man and while he pursued his interests with great focus he really did love the family he was given and the one he chose to create.

He embraced life and the living of it in such a huge way. There is so much I love and remember about Bill but nothing matches the way in which he lived his life: to the very fullest. He had a zest for living and lived his life to its very limit and I admire that in him so much. The love he shared with Sue and then created in Cass and Janee is inspirational-they have done well with Bill as their guiding light and I am certain he is beaming with pride watching over them.

Our family misses you and your booming voice, your varied and broad interests and hobbies, your huge presence on the screen and through the air waves, your sensitive soul, your collecting nature and the obvious love you brought to your life and the life of many others that we all benefitted from.

I am so honored to have known you, to have been a small part of your life and to have had the privilege to love you. Your example of living life to its fullest inspires me to follow in your footsteps and embrace this life we are given. This planet isn’t the same without you nor is life in general. I miss and love you Bill very much---and I will always carry you in my heart…

It may seem a bit odd, but Bill was the youngest kid in our family. My brother Peter and I tried to figure out ways to get rid of him when he was born as he was cramping the good thing the two of us had going. I even poisoned him once (on accident, I’m pretty sure), but I think we actually instilled in him the ability to withstand so much, we created a bit of a monster. From his brother Peter, “The day my youngest brother was born, I can remember running home with my younger brother Michael. We ran across a neighbor’s yard to take a short cut to get home and get our first look at our new brother. Quickly we were in the house and looking into a crib to see Bill for the first time. He had eczema and, as many babies on their first day, was not so attractive. Looking into the crib I can remember being very shocked at the sight of him as my mother replied “isn’t he beautiful.” Well I didn’t want to say no. I just looked at Michael and said “come on Mike let’s go outside and play.” That was my first meeting in this life with a very dynamic personality that was to grow up as a close friend.

As early as watching him play in the ashes in the fireplace, Michael and I realized this was no ordinary guy. Even though he was three years younger, I preferred not to fight with him, as he was willing to grab the nearest weapon at anytime to equalize the matter. This was an early theme when, even at age five after a small skirmish, I ran to close the back door of the house and lock him out. Unfortunately for me this provided no help as, quite shocked, I watched him put his fist through the window unlock the door to continue the fight.

There were many charming early memories of this type. I particularly appreciated ducking behind a chair as Bill threw a kitchen knife at me. As I ducked, I was able to see the knife stick in the wall over my head. Needless to say I escaped down the hall shutting two doors behind me as he kept throwing his entire body into the door time and time again until he broke it down. Bill was determined!!

After we started going to school, daily I was asked if I was Bill Arno’s brother. My usual reply was “no he is MY brother” but it did no good. He was larger than most kids his age and he always made it a point to protect those who got picked on in his class. In school, if you were Bill’s friend you were safe on the way home.

Bill was a showman who lived his entire life larger than anyone I knew. I truly enjoyed watching Bill grow up. As we grew older we became good friends and I considered him to be a best friend always. Bill’s artistic talent was clear from a very early age. As a very young boy, he was easily drawing very complex sketches with great expertise. It seemed as if he could play any instrument he wished to pick up and he had a beautiful voice singing solos often in choirs. He settled on acting to express his artistic talent for most of his life. He was always trying out for parts and using his booming base voice in “voiceovers” for most of his adult life.

Bill and I worked together for some time but I was happy to see that he got a job working with my other brother Michael. This was a better opportunity and he made the best of it eventually becoming Michael’s partner with Arno Political Consultants. His success in his work afforded him time to make the most of life which always included his family. This included my son Will too as well. Bill took many wonderful family trips around the world. At times he included my son Will and I know Will considered him a second father.

About a year before Bill died he told me that he felt that he would not live much longer and that he wanted to fit in as much as he possibly could. That he certainly did, particularly focusing on Japanese Swordsmanship. I must say that he was freakishly good. He became highly proficient in a remarkable short period of time and outside of his family, it was the central theme of interest for the last few years of his life.

One Friday our sword Sensei “Big Tony” called me to tell me that Bill had collapsed in Japan at a sword tournament. I had a bad feeling as soon as I took the call and Tony informed me “that it didn’t look good.” A few days later, I was formally informed that Bill had died. This was perhaps the saddest day of my life. I remember this day like it was yesterday. I loved Bill very much and know that because of that we are never apart. I am very grateful to have had him in my life and honored that he is my brother.

Being new to California as pale, geeky teens from Michigan, it was difficult to assimilate into the cool, California lifestyle. Bill instantly knew he had to buy the surf shorts, grow out his hair, put his lip in a permanent snarl and buy Hang Ten shirts. He also made a huge early impression when he got to school and made a number of friends. One of his first friends was David Steinberg, who wrote this touching membory of him. “Bill Arno was simply the best friend anyone could ever have. We met when I was about 13, through a mutual friend of mine who was a native Californian and an avid body surfer as Bill was.

I had moved to La Jolla about three years earlier from Bethesda, MD, where my father worked as a research scientist at the National Institute of Health. UCSD started a medical school and my father had a new career as a Professor of Medicine.

As an East Coast kid, and one of English-Scottish background with pasty white skin, I felt extremely uncomfortable with the intense surf culture in La Jolla. I was never athletic and was generally a very self-counscious and geeky adolescent. Add to that having a pretty absent father due to the demands of his new job and you have a recipe for a lot of teenage angst.

Bill was fair-skinned like me, but he was a big dude and he could pretty much kick anyone's' ass who gave him a hard time. He surfed, he participated in sports, and he was extremely popular at LJ High - particularly with the girls.

We all know that kids can be awfully mean.

Bill stood up for me in any number of situations. He was very protective of his friends. He had an evenness and calm about him that was truly unusual for an adolescent.

He was never mean to others and did not need to be critical or judgmental. He seemed happier than I or my other best friend and we enjoyed basking in Bill's confident and light-hearted presence.

And the most wonderful thing about Bill was that he had a wicked sense of humor and ability to mimic that was amazing. He could recite lines word-for-word and with the exact intonations from dozens of films of the time - like Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein, Monty Python, Fast Times at Ridgemont High. He had a similar talent musically, where he could "scat sing" a Jimmy Hendrix solo that would blow you away.

Movies were always my passion and Bill and I really bonded over that.

Years later I ended up working as a cinematographer and Bill had some acting successes. He attended my wedding and saw each other every time I was in San Diego, Los Angeles or Sacramento right up until his his death. After a divorce and a 2nd wedding, Bill flew to Martha's Vineyard just to spent time with me and meet my new wife.

I will never stop missing him. He was my very best friend and as an adult, the friend with whom I had the greatest history. I love him dearly and am so grateful for having known him

Another high school friend, Neil Shepherd wrote: “Bill was warm, wise, and mature beyond his years. Being comfortable in his own skin, he allowed others to be comfortable in theirs. Undoubtedly, he enriched the world around him and we're poorer for his passing. Many thanks for the memories and warm regards.

Another friend Peter Woods added this: “Bill was one of the first people I met back when we moved out here in '69 from the Midwest. We used to mess around over at Gordon Merricks' house up above where Tom Bevan lived off of upper Nautilus, the new frontier in La Jolla back then.

I remember telling both of those guys that I played the drums and Gordon proceeded to break out his sax while Bill went and got his trumpet from home. This was before I had met Tom and was the first affirmation that it might be ok to play an instrument and bring a little of my mid-western experience through to my new California identity and not get razzed for it like I did my striped bell-bottom pants on my first day at Decatur. Incidentally, Bill never gave me a hard time about anything I ever did, wore, or played, and was a true patron of the arts dating all the way back to day one as far as I was concerned.

I always enjoyed the way the group and activity seemed to get on with Bill's pace as soon as he arrived on the scene. It was an easy, calming and gentrified rhythm that would ensue, and always made for a richer experience, no matter the event, or people involved.

The last time I saw him was at Lino's funeral, and he was his usual bigger than life self telling lobbyist tales and generally cracking everybody up, the perfect foil for the somber occasion, checking everybody out with a tilted head, making sure the groove was comfortable.

He was a good friend.
Thanks for ringing the bell.

Chris Mahoney had similar thoughts about Bill: “I met Bill at Muirlands Junior High School. I can’t remember how, probably art class in seventh grade. Bill was a gifted artist. He would draw super heroes that could rival anything Marvel Comics was printing up at the time. I was always so envious of that talent, and I was surprised, later on, to hear he'd never really capitalized on it. He was really, really good, especially given his young age.

For a couple of our junior high years, Bill, Pete Nielsen and I were the fearsome trio. It seemed to me we did everything together: eating lunch together, sitting together in class when our schedules lined up, terrorizing the neighborhoods that branched off of Nautilus Street after school. We never got into any real trouble, probably because we never really caused any. The only real damage we did was to the iceplant that grew from the edge of Nautilus down to the fairway of the La Jolla Country Club below. We would stand at the top like great warriors or athletes and leap—sometimes feet first, sometimes diving—and then slide all the way to the bottom. We'd then use that same iceplant like vines and climb back up to do it all again.). I don't know about Bill and Pete, but I always caught it when I got home because my jeans and t-shirts would be completely stained green.

Sometimes, looking back, I can't believe how far we walked on our adventures I
do remember buying 5-pound blocks of ice from Grand liquor on the corner of
Grand Ave. and Lamont St., lugging those blocks up to Kate Session Park, and
using them like sleds to slide down the grassy slopes after sunset. Hard to
believe that the media has instilled so much fear in parents that kids can no
longer roam free like that. Interesting how well all that walking and physical play
kept us out of any real trouble.

We also took Mr. Stewart's drama class together and both became semi dedicated thespians. Again, Bill had greater talent than me, but neither of us had the talent of our mutual friend Linus Weiss. While Bill and I were competitive in sports, we were never competitive in Drama, and he, Linus, and I did a lot of acting together, working up scenes, honing our craft, and laughing a lot. We were all in one or two plays together, but my interest in motocross kept me from pursuing acting to the level Bill and Linus did. The rest of the time, I had great fun cheering them on.

As I look back, both he and Linus and he and Pete Nielsen had great senses of humor together. I don't remember myself as having that, but I do remember laughing really long and hard during those friendships. I really needed that laughter, and the light gaiety those three-way friendships brought into my life.

Interestingly, death has been an important thread in our lives as well. When our mutual friend Michael Wolf was tragically killed by a drunk driver, Bill made a special point (at the cost of some business interest) to be at the hastily pulled together services I set up. In fact, that was the last time I saw Bill. My life took me in a whole different direction since (and, to an extent, because of) Michael's death. I always kept track of and in touch with Bill, but since I missed the 20th reunion, I don't think we were ever again in each other's physical presence after that tear-filled good bye.

It was Bill who called me (I was still in graduate school in Colorado at the time.) to tell me of Linus's death. Linus had been fighting the good fight against lymph cancer for years. I can’t think of anyone I would rather hear that news from than Bill. And again, amidst the deep sadness of sharing our grief over Linus's death, Bill found ways to infuse that pain-filled call with great humor that had me laughing and crying at the same time.

Our high school class was surprisingly close, and many of us have remained that way through the ensuing years. As a result, that reunion was much more like a family reunion than it was a high school get together. It may seem odd, now that I think back, but the poignancy of hearing of Bill's death there, at that moment, in just that way, added a richness to the experience, but it did. It was sort of like sitting in a very comfortable place and closing the really great book after reading its final pages. I am very sad he's gone; I will always miss him; but I am so glad we wrote those chapters so richly.

In primary school, Bill was a big, handsome, competent, confident young man, and I aspired to be like him. I will always appreciate the ease with which Bill carried his natural talents and attributes through life, his easy smile, the lightness with which he interacted with those around him, and that unbounded confidence. Throughout my time knowing Bill, both when he was alive and since his death, it is the laughter we shared, the myriad ways he inspired me, and the wonderfully easy way he carried all is strengths and plied all his vast talents that has always left me a love-filled smile on my face and a desire to stretch myself to be a better man. I'll always be grateful to him both for the times we shared.
Another of his high school friends, Louise McCartney Bluestone, sums up how so many of his friends recall him: “What I remember most about Bill was that he was a kind, thoughtful gentle soul . He was a very special guy, a friend that could be counted on. You were so lucky to have him as a brother.

All my best to the family

Another LJHS friend, Michael Boyajian, wrote: “One of the fondest memories that I had of your brother, Bill was going out to the Borrego Desert to film the "Last Dollar," in or around 1974-1975. Gary Appel was the director, and David Steinberg was the cameraman. We were all involved in the drama department at La Jolla High School. The film was a western, but Gary had a limited budget, so we had to do without horses. Bill was one of the stars of the movie. The sound was dubbed in after the movie was filmed up at UCSD. I played one of the "bad guys," and my voice wasn't deep enough, so Bill's booming voice was used. Hank Watkins, Caleb Taylor and many others were also involved. This is only one of the memories that I have about Bill (we all ran in the same circles, and Bill ended up marrying one of my sister, Amy's best friends).

Bill was really in his element when he was on stage. I remember when he came home one day and announced how his school was going to put on a performance of Fiddler On The Roof. It was such an involved musical that I remember his theater teacher having misgivings that high school kids could meet the demands on stage, even thinking about bringing in a pro to play Tevye – a role his best friend Linus was born to play. When it was performed, it was done as well as anything you could see Off Broadway and I think it may have been that single play that gave Bill the inspiration to pursue an acting career. One of his castmates, Hilary Michels Dunning remembers that time this way: “I went to his senior prom (and another formal too) with him when I was a young and green sophomore. I was so completely head over heels for that guy! I always felt bad about senior prom - here he picked me up in your parent’s way cool black car (some sort of Thunderbird or something?) and the prom was at the Hotel Del. The part I feel bad about is that all his buddies and their dates were supposed to be out all night long, and my parents made him bring me home by 2:00am. That was some sacrifice on his part! Hopefully, he dropped me off and went back to party! lol

I remember his beautiful, gorgeous singing voice, his twinkly blue eyes, his smile, his laugh, and his resonant speaking voice. And as a tall gal myself, his height was so welcome! :) And he had this great sense of humor and this inner strength - he was grounded and mature. I so looked up to him and respected him.

I fell head over heels for him during the production of Fiddler on the Roof, when he played Perchik. I just went through every rehearsal with stars in my eyes for him. :) I couldn't believe it when my crush was returned. It was a fairly innocent romance and I wanted it to go on forever. (He was never truly committed though, as I think his heart still belonged to Sue and they were on a break when he was with me.) Plus he just seemed so much "older" than me...I was in complete awe of him.”

Another classmate, Dr. John Andrews wrote: “when I think of your brother I always smile. In high school Bill was the big dude with a deep, booming voice who was thoughtful, creative, and extremely kind to everyone. He had unique intensity about him that was complemented by a self confident, mature, and fairly chilled out demeanor. He set an example for all of us to go to the beat of our own drummer. I'll be thinking about him on the 13th...

Brian Micheletti had this memory: I first met Bill in 7th grade at Muirlands JHS. He was a big athletic guy back then, around school he had a laid back presence. Like Dr John said Bill had that booming voice that always let you know he was there. The words Dr John used in describing Bill were right on, thoughtful, creative, kind, intense, confident, mature.

This bring's me to my Bill moment. I was 2 years more or less out of high school. I had turned to surfing a lot after high school, while working and going to school. I was out with some buddies excited to see a new surf flick at the Roxy Theater in PB. I'm waiting with my friends in line working a good buzz when this big arm grabs my shoulder. I turn around to have this official looking Bill (slacks and white shirt) with a serious face, tell me in that take control voice that he needs to talk to me inside. I give my friends a little worried look. He walks me straight into the office. With his back to me he turns and starts to crack that big Bill grin that lightened many a moment. To get me in free, he told me that he needed to look serious to keep his employees from catching on. It was a very cool thing to do. I also hadn't seen Bill in a while and it was good to talk. I will always remember Bill for that moment. Mike thanks for bringing back some good memories.

Bill’s fellow workers were also not immune to his charms. Our longtime CFO, Linda, remembers his pretty much like all of us did, especially the part about his joke rarely being appropriate for the general public: “Bill was such a funny man. He always made me laugh and would always come up with something funny even when times were tough. A lot of the jokes I remember are very inappropriate for the public consumption. He was a great guy and he is missed.”

Teri, one of Bill’s longstanding co-workers says this: “My best memory of Bill is when he decided that it was time for my "annual review.” He called me into his office, now keep in mind at the time I was very intimated by Bill. He offered me a seat in the chair across from him. When I sat down, I slid all the way back into the chair, not realizing it had such a sharp slope to it. I guess the look on my face was funny because Bill let one of his famous billowing laughs out at me. After that moment, Bill forever held a place in my heart. (Oh and my review went really well!)”

The years have slipped by pretty fast since 2005 and it’s difficult to believe he’s been gone this long. I hope all of his friends and family, and especially Sue, Cass and Janee, are warmed by his memory and are sitting in the glow of his love, not only on this day, but at any moment he shines down on them. There are so many of his oft-repeated lines that could close out this, whatever this is, a tribute, I suppose. From one of his favorites as he would bump your chair from behind, “feel anything,” to Bill Murray’s Razor’s Edge, “he won’t be missed,” even to his version of what Ronald Reagan should have said in a farewell speech (including another moon shot). But I remember him doing Bugs Bunny as a kid over and over again saying, “That’s all folks.” For now, I guess that says it best.

Silly Fighting

2011-04-05T03:39:00.000-07:00

I have to mention something, even with the likelihood I will offend the easily offended. A few days back I was at a restaurant and I heard a commotion behind me. I turned to find an older man punching another patron who responded with some heavy shoving that ended up turning a dining table over and spilling a bucket full of beer over the floor.

Two burly security guards separated the two, although it took a bit of doing and seemed more like the half-hearted attempts by NHL referees to break up a hockey fight before enough blood hits the ice. As a quick aside, the security business in the country I was visiting may be the fastest growing job sector with security at most restaurants, shops, malls, clubs, parking lots, office buildings, even private security guards. Despite the number of beef at most places I go, I don’t feel much safer.

Once the fighters calmed down, the security guards turned the table back over and rearranged the chairs. The combatants each sat down at the same table and began talking to each other with very little anger, it appeared. So the fighters were actually friends – maybe even relatives – and must have figured a point needed to be made with fists rather than a tough talk. As far as fights go, it wasn’t much of a thing to watch and was more reminiscent of the break-dance fighting from the movie Zoolander than a heavyweight championship bout. Still, it was a head-scrather….

Burning Issues

2011-04-05T02:56:00.000-07:00

I have a friend who just can’t sit still. In the past year, he’s been to Afghanistan several times and stayed for a good period of time in South Sudan, living in conditions that even he thought were a bit too austere. A few months ago he contacted me from Kabul at a time that hostilities had increased, including the blowing up of his favorite store to buy his Diet Coke. He’d missed the bombing by about an hour, but seemed more miffed by the loss of his Diet Coke supplier than he was unnerved by the violence. (I’ve always told him his Diet Coke addiction will kill him). In fact, during a chat that day, he admitted to being bored.

He arrived back in Kabul the very day the Afghan “street” was in full mob mode because a goofy pastor had burned a Quran a week or so earlier. The first message he received upon his arrival was from the American security mission in Kabul that read:

Currently ongoing incident:

Shooting - Massoud Cirle/Abdul Haq Circle 0925hrs

Shooting currently ongoing believed to be involving ISAF and Insurgents.

Shooting ongoing. I’m not sure you want to be in a city with that message, but he just laughed it off. So I wrote him asking if we should find more pastors to burn more Qurans so he could have a bit more excitement in his life. He responded with an interesting viewpoint. He suggested the pastor come to Kabul to burn a Quran and become an instant martyr. He made a good point. It’s easy to tweak a religion from a distance and not worry about the consequences for the actions.

However there are two conflicting thoughts, despite the fact that Pastor Jones really had no need to burn anything and if he wanted to do something productive, he should shave that silly mustache! But by burning the Quran, two things come to mind: 1. He claimed Islam is not a religion of peace and, coincidently, they proved the pastor right by killing 20 people in brutal ways, and 2., If a group of Muslims were to come to the most Southern Baptist town and burn a box full of bibles, it’s highly doubtful anyone would have been beheaded and probably the worst that would have occurred would have been a strong letter to the local newspaper and a lot of noise on talk radio.

We seem to be in a war of jingoism coupled with politically correct responses to the obvious: we’re engaged in a clash of cultures, and all it takes to whip up a mob in the Middle East are a few good community organizers and CNN journalists for the mob to mug for the cameras. My opinion is we need to shut down the entire operation, leave the region and leave them stumped to find reasons to join a mob instead of working on creating a country that isn’t among the world’s biggest basket cases.

Random Thinking....

2011-04-01T04:14:00.000-07:00

Obama gets to play with his military toys: Due to the ever-changing situation in Libya, this thought may have a shelf-life of a few hours, but I find it humorous that our Nobel Peace Prize winning president decided to lob Trident missiles into Libya to save the Libyan people. It made me turn to me DVD library to watch a few clips of Team America: World Police when they destroyed Paris to save the city.

Most presidents who take us into war (what else can you call it – certainly not a “kinetic military action"?) give Americans a bit of a pep talk before the bombing begins. They’ll make a case to the American people about why we’re blowing up things, the goals and who is supposed to die for messing with us, or our “vital national security interests,” before they give it a mission name like Operation Wag The Dog. The Libyan attacks by a coalition of the unwilling seems more like letting a few Europeans show off their new combined EU defense industry products, ready for sale. Although it’s a sad day indeed when you throw a war with European countries and the Germans decide to sit it out.

Our historic president decided to be historic once again, giving his unwatched speech to America in what, in the end, seemed more like a justification than a call to arms, and did so nine days after the first missiles were launched. Perhaps future presidents will take the 20/20 hindsight approach in addresses to the nation on all sorts of matters. A president is more apt to appear he made all the right moves when you get to back into your remarks rather than try to back out later, as George W. Bush discovered in declaring Mission Accomplished about eight years too early in Iraq.

The president even took the opportunity to slap himself on the back a few times, comparing how long it took him to order the missiles compared to the time that passed for President Clinton to kill civilians to stop the killing in the Balkans – either a slap in Ms. Clinton’s face for getting him into this mess, or he somehow thought the press forgot where the Balkans are (most did, likely). In all fairness, President Clinton was hiding under his Oval Office desk while Madeline Albright got the Balkan War up to a fever pitch, and it appears President Obama was also cornered by his Secretary of State to stir up some desert dust – so much for feminist talk that only men create wars.

While he was given less of a pass by the press than normal on his tardy talk, I don’t think anyone with the courage to watch his non-fireside chat found a greater understanding of our mission in Libya. Key questions left unanswered: Are we out to kill Gaddafi, or just trying to send a message by blowing up his palace? Who are the rebels and why were they only mentioned in passing? Are we arming the rebels with Stinger missiles so they can take out Libyan air force jets and the occasional commercial 747? Why did we hand off command and control to NATO when the top two commanders of NATO are American, we are the major funder, and they still need our advanced weaponry to enforce a no-fly zone and to make big holes in the ground where once strategic targets were? And, finally, it’s quite worldly of us to jump into such a fray to spare innocents, it’s just sort of puzzling why innocents in South Sudan, Congo, Syria, Ivory Coast, Bahrain and the protestors in Iran in 2009 don’t warrant the same compassion. Look, the president is just too damn smart for us regular folk to understand such nuance – even with 20/20 hindsight. Let’s just hope he picks his battles better than he does his Final Four picks.

The facts are in: California sucks. There was an interesting article by Forbes naming the Top 15 cities where things are getting worse. The major criteria were unemployment rate, the expectation for future job growth, and percentage of homes in foreclosure. Of the top seven cities, six are in California. This little tidbit coupled with a $26 billion deficit and bond rating that just slipped below Louisiana to come in at number 50, can lead one to wonder about the effectiveness of our elected leaders.

While we’ve had our boneheaded governors in the Golden State, there have been two constants in California politics since 1995: a huge left-wing democrat majority in the legislature beholden to special interest and a small and right wing minority of republicans beholden to the voices in their heads. The theory of “never the twain shall meet” is alive and kicking among our politicians and no amount of gunplay is apt to change things.

There was a day in California when the majority of legislators were lawyers prior to entry into public service. Say what you will about lawyers, but they know how to draft laws, take their one-third, and get out of town. Now the majority of legislators’ previous employment was the staff of former legislators, thanks in no small part to term limits and the idiots who put it on the ballot (me!). As a result, the main form of legislating is towing the company line and, presto, all problems over the past 15 years have been kicked down the road so far that we’ve finally found the dead end. I say give them all a year’s paid vacation just so they’ll leave us alone for a year and maybe things won’t get any worse. We’ve tried everything else, let’s get innovative.

Why one shouldn’t fly with Russian passengers: You’ve all heard that flight attendant’s speech prior to take off; that one that mentions 30 times to shut off all electronic devices, check to make sure your seat belt is fastened, and how much the various meats on a stick will cost. There are certain sounds only dogs can hear, but I’m guessing there are other sounds that only Russians can’t hear. One of them is to shut off all electronic devices.

I was on a flight to Moscow the other day and all Americans dutifully turned off everything they were required to, including the flight attendants. I kept my phone on a bit longer than normal because AT&T’s service is so incredibly awful, I had to wait five minutes for an e-mail to clear my outbox. I was reminded three times to shut off my phone and, with a feeling of lawlessness, I even chose to hide my phone to avoid further scolding. The Russians sitting in the row across from me? One woman had two mobile phones switched on and was showing her seatmate something on her computer while we were taking off. She also wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Not a single flight attendant said anything to her – likely because they knew it would do no good.

There is an old joke about an America, a Frenchman, and a Russian. The task is to get each one to jump off a bridge into the river. To the American, he’s told he’s lost all his money and, with nothing to live for, he jumps off the bridge. To get the Frenchman to jump, he’s told he’s lost all his lovers. To convince the Russian, a sign is placed on the bridge that reads, It’s forbidden to jump off the bridge. Now I’ve been on a lot of flights inside Russia and I can’t recall a single instance of a Russian turning off anything electrical, which makes one believe there’s nothing to this canard of electronic interference in the first place. But on the remote chance there is, my suggestion is flight attendants change their pre-flight announcements to say, It is forbidden to keep your electrical devices turned on.

Where Have You Gone Woodward and Bernstein?

2011-02-01T18:31:00.000-08:00

My friend who goes by the moniker Agent 69 thinks I’m an interesting person. If anyone thinks I’m interesting I tend to want to hang out a bit more with them because, well, I don’t get that reaction very often. Although I must say it does bring to mind the Groucho Marx line of not wanting to be part of any club that would have him as a member. Nevertheless, I had a lunch with him today and, as often is the case, we grumbled about various political banalities. To our mutual credit, very few swear words were used in this session.

The subject came up about the political class and the media that write about them. Specifically, about the strange relationship of media and how it is billed as our guardians of truth and yet have a cozy relationship with the people we need guarding from. It was in evidence this weekend when President Obama was having a going-away party for administration hatchet man David Axelrod who was leaving to run the reelection campaign for the president. First, let me state my bias and pray that Mr. Axelrod is a complete and utter failure in his revised role. At any rate, as Egypt and much of the Middle East was burning, our tirelessly-working president was goofing off with his staff and a number of invited elite journalists.

It makes one scratch the balding side of the head to get around the idea that supposedly objective journalists could maintain that objectivity and still make the A List for future parties and sleepovers at the White House. If a reporter were to write a slightly critical story about the president, would he or she be taken off the invite list? The worry of losing the status – and the access – in this manner could make any reporter give pause about what they’d write.

When I was a lowly paid sportswriter, there was a definite dividing line about consorting with the athletes we were writing about. It was almost a point of professional pride that we could care less about hanging out with the athletes, invited or not. And, the bigger the name, the less we wanted to seem star-struck. The reporters who cover the White House these days seem to feel just the opposite and can’t wait to write in their diary about how the president remembered their name. In fact, there is a big snit going on from the reporters who weren’t invited to the White House soiree.

Back when it was cool to be an aloof sportswriter, I had a story lead that went, “The Texas Rangers stink, and Mike Hargrove was the stinkee.” I was proud of that line and proud that I had called out the Rangers’ only all-star player. With my chest puffed up, I proudly went to the Rangers’ practice field the next day and was talking to manager Bobby Valentine. As we were discussing what Valentine might do when he became a former manager, a baseball whizzed by my head and I could feel the wind of the ball as it missed my nose by an inch. Valentine looked down and tried to hold off a chuckle. I looked around and couldn’t tell who had thrown the ball, although my great deductive skills had narrowed the field to Hargrove, who was about 50 yards away. A moment later another ball zipped by my head and, putting two and two together, I figured Hargove was throwing the ball at me. So I said, “Skip, I think Hargrove is trying to hit me on the head with a baseball!” Valentine said, “Naw, if he was trying to hit you, he would have.” The next day, Hargrove went 0-4 in an 8-0 loss and I wrote of the Ranger’s star player, “Hargrove looked about as sharp as white sox and a black tuxedo, but he sure can throw the ball with great accuracy.” The 6'-4" Hargrove grabbed me in the clubhouse the next day and asked me to autograph my article. So much seems to have changed in the relationship with reporters and the people they report on. It’s also true that much has changed in the expectations placed on the reporters by those they’re covering. And that’s sad.

Years ago, I was traveling with a few old political hands and they were having fun telling me about all the dirty little secrets of California’s elected legislators. Republicans and democrats both had skeletons that needed to be nailed shut in the closet. One maintained a collection of child pornography in his office and another once punched his wife in the nose because she met the pizza guy half naked. Another was found in a hammock with a 16-year-old babysitter, another was considered the cocaine dealer for the Senate and its staff. Most were alcoholics and few had anything resembling scruples. But they had one thing in common: they were protected from any of this information coming out by the Capitol dome.

While we are led to believe that republicans hate democrats and vice versa, the simple truth is that they don’t hate each other enough to engage in mutually assured destruction. So the details of the frailties of our elected mortals stays in the family; in part because they are aware of their own frailties and in part because they are protecting the image of our elected officials as servants of the public and the essence of truth and justice. The real story couldn’t be farther from the truth.

And this is where we have to give the stink-eye to the media. If I know these stories, imagine what the seasoned journalists know. I once asked undoubtedly the most important political reporter why he didn’t write about the dirty secrets in the Capitol. He told me if he did, it would be the last story he’d write and he’d be out of job. While I know politicians have stirred us into a rough employment environment, I wonder what happened to the days when an editor would give a reporter the boot for sitting on a story that was far more in the interest of the public than remaining on the A list for party invites. Woodward and Bernstein, where are you when we need you?

Taking A Leak

2010-12-04T16:19:00.000-08:00

Five months ago, a waif named Julian Assange unloaded 250,000 secret documents that disclosed, among other things, the names of Afghan citizens outing Al Qaeda miscreants in their neighborhood, names of CIA operatives in Afghanistan and Iraq, details of the U.S. rendition program, U.S. helicopter fire on a group of civilians and reporters (interspersed with combatants, a common tactic), and revealed some of our more gruesome ways to squeeze information out of captured bad guys such as waterboarding.

With the first dump, one could sense a chuckle coming from the press and the White House as most of the leaks were thought to be embarrassing to the previous administration. On the surface of things, nothing was done to stop Assange or his WikiLeaks group from further publication of national secrets. The New York Times, which refused to reveal the name of the already revealed Valerie Plame for fear harm could come to her, had no journalistic concerns about revealing hundreds of names of individuals involved in covert activities from and for the U.S. As the point news source for WikiLeaks in the U.S., no doubt the New York Times was more busy dusting off a spot on the mantle for its next Pulitzer Prize that it always seems to receive when it publishes secret material than it was considering the ethics of the news reporting profession.

Assange vowed more would come and there was a second, smaller dump of classified information, most of which dealt with our dust-up in the dust bowls that are Afghanistan and Iraq pre-2009 – or pre- coronation of Barack Obama’s taking control as Commander-In-Chief. Again, on the surface of things, nothing appeared to be done by our intelligence services, our Defense Department, our Justice Department, Congress or the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I have to believe if people were foolish enough to elect me president I would have done anything possible to disrupt future leaks. Hell, I would have hired the Vienna Boys Choir to sing him in from his not so secret hiding places if that would help.

Shortly after the second dump, Assange promised the largest dump yet of secret documents that apparently came from a 21-year-old private with a tad too much access to our national security secrets and an odd view of his oath to protect his country. This latest dump, however, struck a raw nerve. No longer was it about embarrassing George W. Bush and the neo-cons. This new dump revealed not so glamorous things about the Obama Administration and his Secretary of State’s not so diplomatic way of handling diplomacy (what can be expected from someone whose main job was to dig up dirt on her political enemies and her husband’s harem?)

Now we have action. Attorney General Eric Holder vowed to “look into” laws that Assange could be prosecuted against. (Here's a hint, he can try this one: 18 U.S.C. 793(e), which provides: "Whoever having unauthorized possession of, access to, or control over any document, writing, code book, signal book, sketch, photograph, (etc. etc.) relating to the national defense, ... (which) the possessor has reason to believe could be used to the injury of the United States or to the advantage of any foreign nation, willfully communicates (etc. etc) the same to any person not entitled to receive it, or willfully retains the same (etc) ...

Pressure was also placed on Amazon.com to no longer carry the servers for WikiLeaks and E-Bay’s Pay Pal was given a bit of a strong lecture that they should no longer serve as a means for WikiLeak fans to send in donations. A noose has been drawn tighter around Assange as he faces rape charges that numerous countries are upholding and his colleagues tell of stories of Assange feeling nervous to sleep in the same five star hotel on London’s East Side more than one night in a row (even cutting back on his room service!).

While it can be said it’s better late than never to the slow-motion reaction of our fearless leaders, it’s much easier – and more fun – to ask, where were they five months ago? Since that time, nearly every journalist seemed able to track him down at a “secret location” for an interview. If our crack intelligence community is unsure of his whereabouts, just follow a few reporters around and eventually they’ll be led to him. It’s not exactly like he’s hiding in a cave in Pakistan, so what’s the trouble?

When Dan Rather was able to locate Saddam Hussein and sit down with him for an interview, former pro basketball star Charles Barkley wondered on a broadcast why Rather didn’t stab Hussein with a fork and save the world a lot of trouble and a lot of lives. Sure, we would have lost Rather, but he would have ultimately been remembered more fondly than he is today. The same should be true for Assange. Isn’t there a reporter with a fork and access to Assange willing to take one for the team?

Re-Post For My Grandma

2010-12-03T14:21:00.001-08:00

Four years ago December 3, my grandmother died at age 97. By anyone’s measure she lived a full and useful life and was greatly loved by four generations of my family. I also loved her dearly.

Following my mother’s death in 1995, my grandmother and I gravitated toward each other, I suspect because I wanted to be near the part of her that was my mother and she wanted the same from me. We talked nearly every week for the rest of her life and I discovered even more in common with her and relished our talks. She especially liked to talk about my mother and often repeated the wonderful deathbed conversation she and my mother had when they closed the books on a lifetime of misunderstanding. Since I liked to talk about my mother too, I was always there to oblige. She buried a husband, three children and countless friends and relatives before she died and each time you thought this would be too much for her, she dug deep to find more strength to carry on. She would just tell me it’s what happens when you live so long. The fact is, she loved life and never wanted to leave.

She had a project going all the time, which I think was partially responsible for her longevity (along with a sip of whiskey more often than she would admit). One year she would plan to paint the house, the next year to put in new carpet, and perhaps the next year it would be new window treatments. She always had something to look forward too.

When her husband died in December 1983 she visited my parents for Christmas. She looked so frail when she arrived, we all believed she wouldn’t last long. It was a bittersweet Christmas as it felt like we would lose both grandparents in the span of a few months. She surprised us all. My aunt bought her a puppy a short while later, believing she would get it back in a few years, but my grandmother stubbornly outlived the dog.

When we would visit, she would show off a ring or a bracelet. She would tell us it was a birthday present from her husband, the same one who had been gone for a decade. She actually went out and picked out the piece of jewelry she suspected he would buy for her, wrapped it up and gave it to herself on her birthday or Christmas, always with a wry smile and telling us "look what Bill bought me."

She also always felt and acted younger than her age. She was an avid bridge player and sharp as a tack so she always kept score (regrettably not allowing me to cheat). She knew what cards you were holding and was the first to tell you if you were leading from your hand or the dummy. When playing with her local bridge club, she complained that the people were just too old; despite the fact most were 10-20 years younger.

Once she told me the reason her husband was bald on the top of his head was because he kept hitting his head on the backboard of their bed (you youngins may have to think about that one for a bit). Never one to care what people thought of her, she also went out and bought what she called “stretchy pants” with stirrups that were meant for teens and proudly had her picture taken in them.

She had a lot of money but you would never know it. She and her best friend, the wife of the founder of K-Mart, used to go shopping every Wednesday. Too often they came back with nothing, complaining they would never spend more than $1 for a good pair of underwear. She actually was so cheap that she had a dual headstone made for her and her husband. Because she got a better deal for each letter, she had the cemetery chisel in her lifespan as 1904 -19_ _, not thinking she would make it into the 21st Century. I used to love to tease her about the fact she would live beyond her expectations and it would cost her more to knock off the 19 part. I’m happy to say she had that problem.

Because she had lived such a long life, I once asked her what she thought was the greatest invention or achievement in her lifetime. Now I would have said Saran Wrap and given a thought to the airplane, computer, or landing on the moon, but she quickly answered “penicillin” because she knew how many lives it saved. Her generation was never about collecting new toys and technological inventions, but about making the life of others more comfortable and better.

Most people who live that long have some slip in mental acuity. She never did. I once asked her why and she told me it was because she read five or six hours every day and it kept her mind sharp. Her mental alertness may have ultimately made her death more frustrating.

She fell one day in late November of 2001 and broke her hip. Five days later she died from being in the hospital, hooked up to tubes and well-aware of what was happening around her. She didn’t fear death, but as with all things in her life, I think she wanted a say in how she died. I doubt she was ready to go that day and was probably pretty ticked-off that she wasn’t home baking pies. My relatives never told me she was in the hospital and I never had a chance to tell her good-bye or say how much I loved her and what she meant to me. Alice Brosier, if you’re looking over my shoulder today, I want you to know I love you so much and miss you every day.

Can I Get A Witness?

2010-10-27T16:02:00.000-07:00

Well, the reality is, I’m at work and should be doing work-related things – especially on those items I’ve fallen behind on. But lately I’ve been thinking how much I miss writing on my blog and sharing with you the weirdness that is my life. I’ve also missed writing in general. Besides e-mails and the occasional proposal, about all I write out is a grocery list (although I do try to make those as creative as possible).

A few days ago, I was looking at an old e-mail account that I hadn’t opened up in years. I had a pen-pal relationship with a friend named Katrin from Romania who now has her own blog (linked here, but maybe closed down). The back and forth e-mails covered daily events to deeper, more meaningful things, but I was mostly struck by what a damn good writer she was and is. (Katrin, if you happen by my blog after all these months of dormancy, please start writing again!). Reading our exchanges made me want to write again and so here I am avoiding work and, as likely, missing out on making some money.

The blog idea started as a whim while I was enjoying my time immensely with The Boy in New Zealand. It was partially inspired by a friend John who gave me his theory that blogs such as this are the new town square for sharing ideas and perspectives. I was also pushed by Anna, a young campaign worker, who wrote a hell of a blog and made me think, Well, if she can do this, then certainly I can.

My blog inspired others to create their own and it was one of the things that made me most proud. On the other hand, as I took my sabbatical from the blog, most of my fellow bloggers began to fall off as I did. The Boy created his own and, strangely enough, quietly began to begin writing again last week, so I noticed. Sladed stopped his very entertaining blog and now writes more about triathlon training. The Girl began a blog about American Idol and Alan Iverson and she stopped her writing – although I suppose that has as much to do about the decline of both her subjects. Katrin may or may not have continued since it now takes an invitation to read her blog (how rude!), and even Anna had to end her blog shortly after it began because of the vagaries of politics.

Much has transpired since I began my blog and it seems as though a lifetime has transpired since it went dormant. I reconnected with some old friends through the blog, including the lurking Molly and a few “anonymous” respondents who are perhaps less anonymous to me than they think. But mostly I connected to my past and the things I remember so fondly. It was an honor to write about Bill, not only about his last years, but the years we spent goofing off as kids on Lake Drive and as adults as business partners.

There were so many wonderful events that landed on the Lazlo dime. The Girl graduated, captured so well by the artful eye of a friendly photographer, The Boy and The Ber got hitched, elections happened, screwing with my delicate sense of a reasonable world order, friendships came and went, new people entered my life, and I got to look around for photos of Diane.

The biggest change and probably the most central reason for putting the brakes on the blogging, was with Mrs. Laz. You all know the story so no reason trying to write myself into a happier ending. I always tried to be open with the readers – some would say too open – and it never felt appropriate to continue as though nothing was different. If I blogged about something with an attempt at humor, it would appear to most observers I was being glib about too much, too soon. It was also true I was in too dark of a space to even remember how to write in a humorous tone. If I wrote more openly about what was going on with my head and my heart, it could have left deeper wounds and been, well, insensitive. That left only politics to comment on and, frankly, I didn’t want to write about our dear leader out of fear of ending up on a list that various security forces review on a regular basis.

Despite having a lack of topics to write about, I’ve decided to find a way to post again here and there. I feel a need to get the cobwebs off my creative side and the blog, like an old friend, has just been patiently waiting for me to come visit it again. Good to see you again, Laz….

Another Year Later

2010-06-13T01:09:00.000-07:00

Throughout your life you have your heroes. Some come and go for various reasons. I remember The Boy was a huge Jose Conseco fan, but Conseco lost a number of his fans when he turned out to be a juiced-up screw-up. The Boy, always being mature beyond his years, noted he was still a fan of the player but distinguished the difference between holding him to a higher standard and liking the way he could smack a baseball.

It was tougher for me to make that distinction and most of the heroes I held so dear ended up being a surprising disappointment. Often we forget that the people we elevate to hero status are merely mortal and share all the frailties we all share. At least I forget it too often.

There was a period in my life when I elevated a number of people to hero status, blindly accepting they were worthy. I did all this while ignoring there was a person in the office next door who was far more deserving of this status than the people I had chosen. That person was my brother Bill who, as it is, passed away five years ago today.

It’s difficult to look at your brother as a hero, especially your younger brother. How can we when he was the kid we made hike the ball when we older kids played football? But there he was sitting down the hall for nearly 20 years doing the sorts of things heroes do everyday. Mind you it wasn’t done with huge fanfare or by saving little Timmy from falling down the well. I don’t think he ever saved a cat stuck in a tree. What he did that made him a hero was live his life in an honest and moral way and he did so every day of his life.

Naturally I didn’t recognize any of this until after he was gone. Like many people, I believed you had to do something remarkable to be a hero. But I know now, the real hero is the person who lives the life of a respectable husband, father, brother, friend and business partner. Bill embodied all of this and because he did it so effortlessly and without any fanfare, it was far too easy to miss. But I can say five years later, I miss it now.

Bill had a number of bad habits as my business partner. Most notably he kept in check my unbridled enthusiasm to spend money on my latest scheme and always told our clients the unvarnished truth -- something even the clients didn’t want to hear. But his tongue would have fallen out if he tried to tell a fib.

This isn’t to say he was perfect because that was reserved for only one mortal, but he tried to live his life in a quiet dignity where his words could be counted on and his inner truths were formed with high moral standards (not withstanding his youth).

To say I miss him is the mother of all understatement. To say I didn’t recognize or learn from his qualities is an equal understatement. He was decent and straight and so much of the world has forgotten the value of those traits. It’s so easy for us to remember what turns out to be the best of those who have passed and I have considered that about Bill. But the truth about him is still the truth; he was the kind of person you couldn’t help but look up to (his height observations notwithstanding).

I know Sue knows this about Bill. I hope Cass and Janee remember enough of him to realize the valuable lessons he taught them about honesty and integrity. When they miss him, and I’m assured that is quite often, I hope they will think of his overlooked character and give a knowing smile.

I’ve been a bit frightened about how I think of Bill these days. My memory has become a bit fuzzy and I’m forgetting the little things about him. I know this is part of what we do to move on and protect ourselves from such great grief. It’s still disconcerting to me as time slides a few memories of him gently under the rug. I hate losing even a fleeting feeling or observation about him. I still shed the odd tear about his loss and wonder where I would be if he were still around. I know I would have a lot more bad jokes to tell, but I also hope I would have learned from his example over these past five years. But since we must find value in a death, maybe learning this now will be his ever-lasting message to all he left behind.

Just the same, I wish you never left us, Bill……

On Success And Routine

2010-06-12T03:50:00.000-07:00

A quick observation on life and successful people. The boy and I attended a meeting in Washington, DC and the host of the meeting, a highly successful and very wealthy man, was a few minutes late. He apologized for his three-minute late arrival and said he had been out running five miles and was a bit too sore to get dressed in his suit and tie quickly.

It hit me, as someone who has physically and, yes, mentally gone downhill of late, that this guy’s success was directly related to his organized and regimented schedule. He runs, he sits on the board of several international organizations and corporations, he writes non-fiction books, is undertaking an enormous new project that I hope we will be involved with and, to top it off, is one of the most respected investment advisors in the U.S. Oh, and it should be noted he is 64 years old and also has a Ph.D in international relations. Not just an average guy, mind you.

So I mention to The Boy about my theory on the correlation of success and a full life. He agreed whole-heartedly. There was a day, long gone by, when I also juggled a more full life and, I have to say, I was much more successful at many things during that time. It’s no secret, mind you, that one needs to be organized and focused in order to achieve things. I admitted to The Boy that I had been neither of late; in part because of a more scattered life and in part because of a lot of travel that has knocked me off any semblance of a routine.

One of the routines that may appear to be quite obvious is my lack of writing. The blog – newly designed now – is a monument to a lack of writing. Worse than this, I handed my manuscript over to a very good editor and successful novelist about six months ago. It was a major coup to get her to agree to edit for me. A few days later I was looking over my work and noticed it was a jumbled mess and I called her up and asked her not to read it quite yet. I told her I wanted to make some edits so the manuscript would make some sense. I wrote a bit and modified a bit, but basically put it away since then.

I guess the point of all of this is, if a 64-year-old guy can run five miles, make a few billion for himelf and his friends, chair a few organizations and write a few books, then certainly I can get off the dime and re-write a book that’s acceptable enough for the editor. And, in the meantime, if this gets me back to a more efficient and organized life, well, I just may reacquaint myself with some of that elusive success. Hopefully this quick note will lead me in the right direction.

A Weather Conversation

2010-01-28T00:03:00.000-08:00

In my self-imposed exile from endangering all of you to my written ramblings, I have missed a number of good opportunities to ramble about.

The curse that has been put upon our once great nation in the form of something called an Obama has produced rich material – but has been ignored because it’s just too damn depressing to point out the obvious.

Those of you who are close to me are all too aware of the changes in my personal life. Mark Twain had a habit of writing letter to friends when he was in need of sharing very personal and often sad events. Published in his book Letters From The Earth, there were particularly heart-wrenching accounts of watching his wife Olivia slowly die in Italy and, the toughest, the accidental drowning death of his daughter a few months later when he thought, at his age, he had buried his last loved one. I too hope to be able to write about my long and twisting journey, but I’m not sure the timing is right or the mix of words and thought are developed well enough to do the moment justice. So, I’ll let some of Twain’s musings from the book give a little spice to this post:

“Man is a marvelous curiosity. When he is at his very, very best he is a sort of low grade nickel-plated angel; at his worst he is unspeakable, unimaginable; and first and last and all the time he is a sarcasm.”

All said, I want to post on something. I was encouraged to write again by an odd clash of history and modern technology. Two years ago, I wrote in passing about a snowball aimed at a particular 10-year-old girl. I had written a Christmas post that included the theory that boys will be boys and whack a young girl on the head with a rock-filed snowball out of affection. I stand by that theory, too. Anyway, the victim – as she still sees herself, lord knows why – did a Google search on her name and my re-telling of history had an interloper. She read the drivel on these pages for a while and when she eventually saw me on another new medium, Facebook, she decided to let me know she had not forgotten the incident and maybe had also not forgiven.

As punishment to you all, she has encouraged me to write more, and so I will. This time about my current adventures on the frozen tundra that is Russia. Most of the days I’ve awaken to 17 degrees below zero. A few days, the high reached a balmy -8 degrees. They use the Celsius format here because they just want to make it seem colder. Under that system, the temperature is -30. As cold as the actual temperature is, the current cold is influenced by a weather pattern from the northwest. That would be the direction of Siberia. So, if you’re facing a certain way, the windchill could be -50 and, at that point, it doesn’t matter if we’re using Fahrenheit or Celsius.

As strange as it sounds, I like taking walks in this weather. How often can one face the fury of Mother Nature? I get bundled up and look something like Ralphie’s brother in A Christmas Story to walk five minutes to get to the grocery store. It isn’t enough. My fashionable jacket – purchased at a discount at an outlet store – holds up, but there are areas where the cold finds its way. Short of wearing a burqa, there is no way the face doesn’t take a frozen beating. And, since I didn’t pack a pair of warm, wooly long johns, there are no pants made to withstand an icy blast. Yesterday, I walked about 25 minutes and didn’t realize how cold my body was until I entered a building and began to thaw. I think my legs suffered some frostbite.

Speaking of Mother Nature, the mayor of Moscow decided to go to war with Her this year. Theorizing that snow removal was costing the city too damn much money, he had the clouds seeded this year to reduce the snowfall. Well, it’s snowed some every day I’ve been here and there are some places where the drifts are 10-feet high. He fought the Mother and the Mother won. Might be a message in there for global warming acolytes.

Regulating the appropriate temperature in my flat is quite a challenge. There isn’t a thermostat in the flat so I have to keep the multiple heaters set by a non-numbered dial next to each individual heater. They are great heaters, but it can turn into a sauna if the valves are open too far. Then, if I try to cool things by dialing the valves down, icicles will grow out of my nostrils. I’ve finally found the right setting by keeping the heaters on full blast with a window left open. Of course the warmth coming from my heaters mixed with the cold blasting through the windows has caused a weather front to form in my room and the thunder and lightening does tend to keep me awake.

I look forward to heading back to Southern California where it takes very little consideration on what to wear when venturing outside. The choice of long-sleeve or short-sleeve is all that faces me. Yeah, I know California had a bucket-full of rain last week and it even got a little cold, but it’s more the exception than the rule. And, as they always say in So Cal, we need the rain.

Well, I guess this is something of a wasted post since it mostly talked about the weather. I’m often told that I engage in too many “weather” conversations; i.e. talking about things without serious depth. It’s a fair observation. I’m at a point where I don’t know how to have an in depth conversation, especially with the people I care about the most. They’re getting impatient with me, I know, but it almost seems I am watching a movie about my life rather than living it. I’d probably give it two thumbs down, so I’ll stick to the weather for now.

Close The Wound, Hide The Scar

2009-11-19T03:21:00.000-08:00

As a tribute to the restless minds of people who are never satisfied with their accomplishments, the great inventor Thomas Edison never stopped trying to solve impediments toward a modern world. Late in his life he became obsessed with trying to build a storage battery but was never able to get around some of the physical and conditional difficulties to really transform society the way he wanted. He did invent a battery that became known as the Alkaline battery, but not without much frustration and cost.

It became known that Edison had attempted more than 2,000 variations of building the storage battery and all failed to live up to expectations. A reporter, and naturally this would come from a reporter, asked the aging Edison how it felt to be such a great man and to have failed 2,000 times. He responded by saying something like, “I don’t believe I’ve failed. I know 2,000 ways not to make a storage battery. How many ways do you know?”

And I guess the point is that unless you try to do something and put in the energy, there is no chance of success.

I’ve just encountered something of the same nature in Russia and perhaps it equals 2,000 ways not to work here. I’ve tried, put in the work, been obsessed and all I have left is for a reporter to ask me the big failure question. So on this coming Monday, I more or less wave the white flag as I leave Russia with little to show for my extensive time here other than the collateral damage left by being absent for so long.

Someone once told me that they viewed my approach to Russia as someone chipping away at a steel door with a tack hammer. I made a dent, but was never going to break the door down. The reasons for my lack of success are myriad and probably mostly beside the point. I wish I could blame the Russians for the way they carry out business but the sad truth is, just as many Americans and other foreigners broke apart deals that appeared headed for success. Yes, I’ve learned my ways not to work here; not to be the consummate middleman, not to agree to everything everyone wants done, not to do something for nothing less you want a reputation of the go-to guy who does something for nothing. There are less charitable reasons but I’ll leave that up to therapy sessions.

In between all the million dollar deals that never became, I had my moments. I learned to live in and adapt to different cultures, met a lot of really nice people who I will miss and I’ve learned to better trust my instincts, even if I didn’t follow them. My gut even tells me that all is not lost now and there will be a pot of gold at the end of some rainbow. Of course this kind of thinking is equal rub as it is a fit of optimism. How to say No to the next promise of the next big project? The gut knows well how to manipulate the brain so who knows what will occur.

What I do know is I return feeling betrayed again by the world after asking it to find a good use for me in exchange for giving back something better. I return knowing, and this is the difficult part, that I had the answers for the correct questions, knew the solutions to the right problems and had the ideas that should have merited more consideration. In the end, however, knowing all of this does not salve the wounded spirit or the feeling that I was always outside the inside joke. These scars will last as will the scars I inflicted on others as I brought them with me on my Quixotic journey of self-indulgence.

It would be easiest to leave here with the memory of a bitter taste, but that wouldn’t be right in the long run. Better just to say I know 2,000 ways not to work in Russia and leave it at that.

The Grand Delusion

2009-09-17T02:36:00.000-07:00

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been seven months since my last post. I have had plenty of things to post on, but the mood just hasn’t pushed me into writing anything. Most of my posting ideas have had to do with what I believe is a tragic direction our country has taken since last February, and I just can’t bear to write about it or even use up badly needed brain cells on something I can do nothing about save expressing my complaints into the thin air of nothingness.

As most of my very few readers know, I have been behind the Iron Curtain for much of the year. A few things happened that are worth at least a small post, so here goes:

I was in Kiev recently and saw several small groups of protestors carrying Ukrainian flags with hand-written signs. There was even one group camped out in tents surrounding by flags and banners just across the street from the presidential administration building. So, finally, I asked my translator what they were protesting. He told me, “Whatever they are paid to protest for the day.”

Well, this was a surprise. Paid protestors who, if asked, don’t know why they are protesting other than earning the equivalent of $12 per day. Even the supposed Orange Revolution that swept the current president into office was, for the most part, a huge rent-a-mob project. Sure, there were some true believers, but most were there for the money along with a free pass to litter and add to the Ukrainian population nine months later.

As disillusioning as this was, it made me wonder if any of this takes place in the U.S. Are all our protests legitimate, or are they paid for? We know that, despite accusations of the opposite, supporters of Obama’s health care reform have been paid to attend Town Hall meetings to demonstrate support. What else has been paid for? Makes you wonder.

The other disillusioning event took place in Moscow. There are these underground walkways that go under major streets in Moscow. Some are so big that there are literally mall-like shops that sell almost anything you can think of. These underground walkways are also a good place to keep out of the weather and, as a result, attract people with their hats out for a donation. Some sing (often poorly) for a payment, others sell flowers and still more, mostly the elderly, just have a can out, hoping for any charity.

There is a woman I have passed by many times who looks at least 80 years old. She always has her eyes closed with a small can partially filled with change. Since the largest denomination of change is 5 rubles (approximately 17 cents), it seems she really doesn’t do very well.

The other day I was walking by her and was thinking of my daughter. I know, as the weather is beginning to turn cold here, Em would be sick over the prospect of this poor old woman fighting the weather and hoping to raise enough money for a loaf of bread. I had just gone to the ATM and so, in the spirit of my daughter, gave her 500 rubles (about $17). She was very surprised to feel something other than the metal of coin and looked down at the paper bill placed in her can. She opened her eyes, looked at me and said a prayer (for me, I suspect).

I felt good for the entire day and decided to share my charitable moment with some locals. They laughed at my naïveté. I wondered why these Muscovites were being so unkind about my act of kindness. Then they told me that nearly all these little old ladies stationed around the city work for an organized crime ring that takes the majority of the money from we foreign knaves who think we’re helping the elderly. In fact, I was told most of the money goes to the criminals and the old ladies get virtually nothing. Sort of takes the fun out of charity to know this.

OK, so life is a fulltime classroom and we get to learn something new everyday. Just wish the lifetime class syllabus didn’t come with more cynicism, because I’m pretty filled up with cynicism.

Porkulus

2009-02-13T06:46:00.000-08:00

In President Obama’s uninspiring Inaugural address he made it a point to stress bi-partisanship and, in reference to gloomy economic prospects said this, “We have chosen hope over fear.”

Whenever any politician speaks (and, sorry to say I include Obama as just another politician), you’d be foolish to accept the words have any meaning until they’ve been run through the reality-grinder. Because the very next week, in explaining why we need to spend another $800 billion after the first $850 billion had no positive effect, Obama was quoted as saying, "A failure to act, and act now, will turn crisis into a catastrophe." So much for hope over fear.

Bi-partisanship? Republicans, except Northeast whackjobs, weren't even invited to discuss the content of the latest spending spree.

It’s words like "catastrophe" that actually turn crisis into a catastrophe. Is there any evidence out there that indicates successful problem-solving by Congress when in the midst of crisis? We end up with quick fixes, pork-barrel spending to move reluctant legislators and a lot of proud back-slapping that the Union has been saved by their thoughtful and quick action. The problem is, it’s doubtful any of the owners of the slapped backs completely read what in the 1,000 pages they voted for. God forbid anyone have a chance to read it in its entirety – especially those prone to leap from buildings from such bad news.

There is a delicious irony that there are hearings on financial Ponzi Schemes in one part of the Capitol while Congress creates the world’s largest scam a few hearing rooms down the hall. The difference in the hearings is the victims of the Congressional scheme will be future generations saddled with debt that will bury them in red ink their entire lives.

This isn’t to say Obama is solely to blame (although I want to remember all the headlines referring to this as Obama’s stimulus bill). The new president is just another political snake oil salesman peddling the same cure Bush and his team offered just six months ago. In case you’ve forgotten about the purpose of the first $700 billion – with the added $150 billion Congressional surcharge – was to stabilize the financial services industry. Anyone out there try to get a loan for anything lately? Anyone see any difference before and after the government threw our money at the problem with little debate and little open information?

When the two “stimulus” packages are added together the cost to benefit ratio to the taxpayer is criminal. Obama’s stimulus promises tax breaks that work out to $13 per week and drop to $8 per week next year. By contrast, if they just gave each and every American a share of both programs, we’d each receive almost $7,000. That’s $28,000 for my direct family alone. And, what would we do with that money? Who knows? Maybe spend it, creating jobs, maybe save it, making banks more liquid and secure, maybe invest it, taking foreclosed properties off the books or save sagging stock values, maybe give it to charity, creating opportunity to others less fortunate. Neither stimulus bill does anything close to what the average American would do if given that money.

Of course when you get to the bottom line, spending priorities is far from the main point. Congress, which has only one trained economist among members, needs to remember that the money they spend has to come from somewhere. They either have to print it, borrow it from China or take it from taxpayers. Either way, it sure looks like we lose.

Pelosi: Not The Brightest Speaker We've Had

2009-02-04T10:51:00.000-08:00

Imagine if a republican had said this at a press conference. Now, try to find this comment in any major newspaper.

Pity The Girl

2009-01-14T20:22:00.001-08:00

The Girl has a new blog that I have linked to on the right. It's about two of her favorite subjects, American Idol and Allen Iverson; both nicknamed AI and hence her blog's name, "All Things AI."

Her writing is quite good, especially considering a public school education and her reading list being limited to US Magazine. It's not as good as mine, but I set the bar pretty high and I think she knows that.

Anyway, she has this thing where she wants people to read her blog and comment often. I have no idea where she gets her "neediness." It certainly doesn't run in my family. I will ask Mrs. Laz about the milk man this evening. Anyway, show some pity and read her blog. For the love of God, please read her blog!

A Generation's Final Bow

2009-01-10T00:09:00.000-08:00

A few weeks back, the missus and I went to a funeral. I didn’t know the man we had come to honor, but I know his daughter and her family very well. When listening to people talk about his life, one thing stood out; they were talking about a man who personified a generation that is slowly dying out.

His generation went through the Great Depression, proudly fought in World War II, was a part of building the greatest sustained economic growth in our country’s history and witnessed, but perhaps did not agree, with great social upheaval in the Sixties. His generation had its faults too. It was often a hard-drinking, heavy smoking and naïve generation, but it was also self-sufficient and strongly believed in family and cared about the community and the values it stood for.

During the funeral, I began to wonder what subsequent generations will stand for; how will we be remembered when we begin to die out? It’s difficult for me to imagine future generations will equate my generation with the same grit and can-do attitude.

What motivated me to write about this tonight was seeing the incredible movie Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood latest, and likely final movie. His movie was about many things, but the underlying and inescapable theme was about the generation Eastwood’s character represented. In the same way I’m told my friend’s father approached his life, Eastwood’s character was driven by a strong sense of right and wrong and the understanding that he needed to do what should be done. While he was crass and prejudiced, he also understood who he was and lived by a code that is singular to his generation. I will be sad to see it burn out.

Long Post On Music Appreciation

2009-01-08T00:39:00.000-08:00

While I was having a late lunch at my favorite high-calorie diner in Sacramento I was listening to the music track the owner plays. Since it was all Sixties music, many of the songs brought back memories. So while breaking New Year’s resolution #1 by eating a French dip sandwich, I started to go over in my head the various songs that moved me from when I was a kid to today. It got to be an interesting list (in my head, anyway), so I thought I would share it with you. It would be nice if some of you would list the songs that you remember being a big part of your lives too.

Other than my grandfather loudly singing Onward Christian Soldier in church (in an unrecognizable key), the first song that really hit me as something special came on my first day at school on the second time though the second grade. I remember Jon Thoits running around the playground singing, She Loves You by the Beatles. Overnight it seemed everyone knew that song, so I guess that’s where the notion of becoming an “overnight sensation” comes from.

In the ensuing years I remember listening to my Japanese transistor radio and waiting for songs like Honey and Little Green Apples (I know, I was young) and any Beatles songs. About a year later, my parents took us to the music store and allowed us to buy one 45 rpm record (parents, please explain what a 45 is to your kids) and I chose Love Is Blue by Paul Mauriat and His Orchestra. I think Bill bought Sugar, Sugar by the Archies and Peter bought a Moody Blues song. We played those songs in order all day long back then.

My first album really blew me away. My parents, in an attempt to seem sophisticated, saw the movie The Graduate and then bought me Sounds Of Silence by Simon and Garfunkle (it was the only album you could buy some of the music from the movie at that theime). I wore the grooves out of that record and still listen to that music often.

Almost every week my family ate at Buddie’s Pizza Parlor in downtown Grand Rapids. My parents gave us a nickel to buy three songs from the jukebox, one song for each son. Bill always, and I mean always, played something from the Archies, Peter bought a few different songs like California Dreamin’ and Monday, Monday and I usually chose Build Me Up Buttercup by the Foundations. I think the pizza was good, but getting to choose our songs was the real treat.

My family used to drive to Florida every spring and my father’s Cadillac came equipped with an 8-track player (parents, explain 8-track to your kids). Each trip my dad bought new tapes so he could drown out our complaining about how far the drive to Florida from Michigan was. One of the tapes I remember wanting to listen to over and over was Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Heart Club Band, again by the Beatles. It seemed every track was a leap forward in modern music. I had the same feeling when he bought Bridge Over Troubled Waters by Simon and Garfunkle a few years later. I always link those two albums (and Juicy Fruit chewing gum) with those trips. And, thinking back now, my dad was pretty hip to be buying those albums back then – although he also bought 101 Strings Play The Beatles and When You’re In Love, The Whole World Is Jewish.

Some songs have strong meaning to me because what they represent. I remember when the Beatles released Hey Jude. At that moment, music changed from something you danced to, to something you listened to. It also changed the way radio stations played music from the typical 2-3 minute song to the entire 7:09 of Hey Jude. It also meant that when the song was played at my local roller skating rink when I was 12, it was time to find Lynn Andrews and beg her to skate with me. I doubt she wanted to spend seven minutes with me, but I did with her.

A year later I went to my one and only junior high dance in Michigan at the end of the school year. Knowing that I was moving to California a month later I was feeling a bit sad at the dance. Then Lynn Andrews walked up to me! Finally my years of scheming for her had paid off, or at least it seemed that way. She asked me if I would do her a favor. Anything for Lynn, of course. She wondered if I would be willing to dance with Lynn Shackleford (not the basketball player) so she could dance with George Skiff, who was the other Lynn’s date. Damn George. Naturally I obliged and then had George killed that night and exchanged Lynns as the objects of my infatuation. Lynn and I danced to Touch Me by The Doors. Then I must have said something improper because it was our one and only dance.

When I came to California, there were certain songs that just seemed Californian. Joni Mitchell was big as was Melanie, Santana and Canned Heat. But the group that stood out in 1970 was Crosby, Stills and Nash and their great song Suite Judy Blue Eyes. It was very apparent then that CSN had replaced the Beatles and the Stones as the latest "super" group.

The first album I bought for myself was Who’s Next by, coincidentally, The Who. I’m not sure if I bought it because the group was photographed peeing on a monolith on the album cover or because it seemed kind of cool to be buying a record by The Who. Just the same, I played Behind Blue Eyes and Baba O’Riley until my dad threatened to turn the record into a Frisbee. A year later, my girlfriend at the time, Cindy, told me I had to visit her and listen to this new album that had just come out called Harvest by Neil Young after he left CSN&Y. Every song was a masterpiece, especially the very haunting A Man Needs A Maid, which is still one of my favorites. The title song of that album also carries some delightful meaning as I think it was the first song I stole lyrics from to impress a girl. And she even married me despite it!

When I was about 16, I used to go to morning swim practice at a huge pool at Miramar NAS. Each morning I mooched a ride to practice from either John Hagey or Stuart Henshall. With John I got Cat Stevens’ Tea For The Tillerman or Mona Bone Jakon, and with Stuart I got Best of Bread that Mrs. Laz forbids me to play now. No matter the mooched ride, the songs on those albums played in my head as I tried to wake up at 5:30 a.m. to get the nerve to dive into a freezing, dark pool.

For my 18th birthday I got albums from one new girlfriend, Beth and from the aforementioned Cindy (I was a playa!). Beth bought me Elton John’s Yellow Brick Road, an incredible musical breakthrough in my humble opinion, and Cindy bought me Band On The Run by Wings, which was the best album you could have when craving the Beatles.

During my college years (or the years people of that age are supposed to be in college) there were a number of songs that inspired a number of fond memories. I remember coming home with Phil after watching his brother’s band play an all-night party and, barely awake, hearing the song Miracles by Jefferson Starship on the radio. It was the first time I heard the song and, in a state of no sleep and the sun just rising, the song had a very strong impact on me. Phil and I also played Chicago 2 and the Doobie Brothers’ Captain and Me until the windows of his house shook.

About that time, I shacked up with Sladed and he turned me on to Jethro Tull and Pink Floyd (and man-love). Besides the obvious big name songs by those groups, the album-long song Thick As a Brick by Tull and Obscured By Clouds by Floyd were the most memorable. Other albums coming out at that time that shook my music world were Breezin’ by George Benson, Silk Degrees by Boz Scaggs, Rumours (by Fleetwood Mac) and the very remarkable Songs In The Key Of Life by Stevie Wonder -- maybe one of the best albums of all time. All were playing on my turntable at all hours.

There was a special song from Neil Diamond that meant a lot to me personally (and one other person) and shall remain, well, personal for personal reason, and that was his song Lady-Oh. I guess Mondern English’s I Melt With You falls into the same “Bolero” category as a song I have a personal relationship with. On the heels of these songs came a few artists Mrs. Laz introduced me to; Jackson Browne and Joni Mitchell. The standouts were For A Dancer and The Late Show by Jackson and River and Little Green by Joni.

There were two songs from Texas that have a special place in my heart. While exiled to Tyler, TX, I was a two-bit reporter for the local two-bit newspaper and knew all the two-bit radio and TV people since we were the only people in town in the “entertainment” business. I mentioned to a radio DJ that I liked the song Lou Rawls had just recorded, Wind Beneath My Wings (sadly no link), still the best rendition of that song, I think. As I was driving for my final day at the paper before moving back to California, the DJ played that song and said it was for me and that I would be missed. So I was kinda important, in a small-town sort of way.

After the Boy was born, we bought a house that was near a very picturesque lake. I remember taking him down to the lake one day and I held his hand and watched the sun set across the lake. At that moment I could hear Willie Nelson’s Hands On The Wheel being played at the lake’s clubhouse. Because it is a song about simple times and fairy tales, I always associate the song with that very fond memory.

Speaking of the Boy, there were a couple of songs that we loved because he loved them and I associate them with his youth. Not particularly masterpieces, but he really liked Tequila by The Champs and I Just Called To Say I Love You by Stevie Wonder. The Girl was partial to the Shoop Shoop song from the movie Mermaids, Wolly Bully from the movie Splash, and Kiss The Girl from the Little Mermaid soundtrack (I am sensing a certain mermaid pattern here).

The kids inspired other music with me, too. I remember the Boy turned me on to Nirvana, and we used to listen to them when I drove him to school in Virginia, especially the David Bowie re-do of The Man Who Sold The World. I also remember playing Alanis Morrisette’s Jagged Little Pill and TLC’s CrazySexyCool with the Girl in Virginia. My musical range while driving into Washington, DC was fairly limited to U2’s Zooropa (I’ve since learned it was far from their best music), anything by Van Morrison and the Gin Blossom’s New Miserable Experience.

Disco killed a lot of music in the Eighties and Nineties and Rap finished it off in the Nineties and into this decade, so I am sorry that most of my best musical memories are from days gone by. But I do remember hearing Eva Cassidy singing Fields Of Gold for the first time and wondering, a decade later, why I had never heard of her before. I still get goosebumps hearing that song. Norah Jones had that same affect on me with Don’t Know Why and Natalie Merchant with Wonder, an ode to River Phoenix.

Recognizing this post has becoming excruciatingly long, I will just mention a few of my other favorite musical moments, many coming from movie soundtracks. In no particular order, I was deeply moved by a few opera songs when I first heard them, like Puccini’s Musetta’s Waltz first heard from the movie Moostruck, Nessum Dorma (also Puccini) that I heard in the movie the Witches of Eastwick, and O Mio Bambino Caro (also Puccini) just from general opera listening. I will also never forget the first time I heard Vladimir Ashkenazy playing piano on Beethoven’s Fifth Piano Concerto (Emperor); it made me want to learn the piano, something I fell well short on, but did a reasonably good job on part of the adagio. And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that I once watched a man play Handel’s Ombra Mai Fu on his trumpet on a solitary street in Munich. The music bounced off the wall and draped over me. Simply wonderful.

Even though I may get giggles with some of this, I was really mesmerized by Tamyra Gray singing Bachrach’s A House Is Not A Home. I had heard the song before, but never the Luther Vandross version she performed on American Idol. The other sort of silly one was from Sister Act II, of all movies, when Lauryn Hill sang His Eye Is On The Sparrow; pure beauty.

There are songs from other movies that I will list, not because they are the best songs ever written, but because of the mood they set in a particular movie. In no particular order, they are: Hotel California by the Gipsy Kings in the Big Lebowski, Mrs. Robinson from the Graduate, Rhapsody In Blue by Gershwin in the movie Manhattan, Cat Steven’s Trouble from Harold and Maude, Joe Cocker’s version of Bye Bye Blackbird from Sleepless in Seattle, Down To The River To Pray from O Brother Where Art Thou, Dry The Rain from High Fidelity, Van Morrison’s Philosophers Stone from Wonder Boys, Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head from Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid, Coal Miner’s Daughter from the movie of the same name, Springsteen’s Secret Garden from Jerry McGuire, Nina Simone’s Sinnerman from The Thomas Crown Affair, Silent Sigh by Badly Drawn Boy in the movie About A Boy and, finally, two from Garden State, Coldplay’s Don’t Panic and Simon and Garfunkle’s The Only Living Boy In New York as they are staring down into the infinite abyss.

As long as this post has become, I have a feeling I left many songs out. I know there are the easy ones like Over the Rainbow and almost anything from the Sound of Music, but I was just trying to limit the songs to the times I sat in awe listening to a song for the first time. Please think of what some songs meant in your lives and list them. Let’s have some fun with this.

New New Year's Resolutions

2009-01-04T12:35:00.000-08:00

While I know it may not matter to you how well I did on last year’s New Year’s resolutions, it is possible that my successes and failures can serve as inspiration, or warning, depending on my ability to keep promises. All in all, I am pleased with achieving many of my resolutions, but I know I left a few on the table.

My favorite met resolution was something of a no-brainer since I had a good hunch. I resolved to attend a wedding of people that I cared about and, this June, that wedding turned out to be between the Boy and the Ber. Since I care deeply about them both, I think their wedding qualifies.

Despite predictions of coming up short on this one, I resolved to have five blog posts per month. Well, I didn’t do five every month, but I did a total of 62 posts for an average of five per month, and that’s good enough in my book – even if a few posts were neither interesting nor readable and I posted eight in December.

Over-promising on your resolutions is to New Year’s what Trevor Hoffman is to blown saves (sorry about that, Mrs. Sladed, but it’s the truth). I hoped to lose a total of 60 pounds, which seemed as reasonable as posting on my blog 60 times. When you break that down over 52 weeks, that’s less than one pound each week. Well, I didn’t make it, but I also knew when I wrote it a year ago, I had no expectation of losing any weight. Weight loss is something everyone resolves to do, but nobody seems to ever do it and that’s why all the gyms are so crowded until about the third week of January.

I did nothing to help my cause until April when I joined a club and got some nutritional and exercise advice and got a BodyBugg for my birthday from Mrs. Laz. From roughly May until mid-November, I lost a total of 36 pounds, but had a bad lap around travel, Thanksgiving and Christmas and ended the year losing 31 pounds. Just the same, I didn’t expect to lose any so I am very happy with the results and it gives me a more realistic goal for this year.

I came up disappointingly short in four areas: I didn’t keep my name from being dragged through the mud of newspapers and blogs last year and even had to watch negative stories written about my brother who, as we all know, is no longer with us. I also didn’t finish my novel and wrote very little on it; quite disappointing. My annual plea to earn money in a different ways turned out to be a mixed bag; I didn’t earn money in different ways, but came to terms with how I earned and will earn my living. This is a big step for me and leads me to my biggest disappointment. I offered an obscure resolution to be free of fear. I fell short on this for the first nine months of the year, but I think I finished strong by ridding myself of two pieces of trash. The “fear” thing is important for me because I think all failure in life comes from living in fear or making decisions on the basis of fear (even though the current economy isn’t helping my decision making).

So what follows are this year’s resolutions:

1. I resolve to lose the rest of my 60 pounds. This may be difficult as I think I lost the easiest part of the 60 this year. Off to good start as I am ready and focused to reach my goal and I feel so much better with the weight loss this year that I am giddy about losing more.
2. I resolve to finish my novel. Again. I really want to do this so this may have an impact on my random blogging, but you never know.
3. I resolve to rebuild my company not only in a financial way, but also to reestablish it as a market leader respected by my peers. We have the opportunity right now and I intend to start making our case.
4. And, finally, become more settled in everything.
5. The final one is not really about me, but I want it as much as anything I would want for myself. I resolve for the girl to get answers to her health concerns and get to feeling back to normal (not that she was ever normal to begin with).

That’s all I want to try to tackle this year. There are other things I hope for, but they are just part of living a good life and should be less a resolution and more a life mandate. If I can reach all five of these resolutions this year, I would be a happy camper. Thank you all for your support since I began this vanity blog in 2005 and hope to keep entertaining or infuriating you in the years to come.

Merry Christmas To All

2008-12-24T01:18:00.000-08:00

It’s difficult to deny this Christmas is something of a bah-humbugish Christmas. With sorry financial news everywhere around us, jobs lost and the U.S. turning into Bailoutistan, there is little to persuade any of us to break into impromptu caroling around what’s left of our neighborhoods.

Despite bad news at seemingly every turn, Christmas endures as more than just an opportunity for retailers to fatten up for the slow times and for each of us to engage in mass gift giving and subsequent cash refunds to said retailers. Christmas is the placeholder for memories we all carry, the reminder of what is good in each of us and the promise of hope in the love we share when we gather ‘round the Christmas tree and complain we didn’t get what we want (at least that’s what I do, not sure about you all).

And I do have renewed hope and faith that times will be better in the New Year and that the memories we’ll make this year will be something to remember and cherish always. We’re doing very little gift buying this year, but we are spending this Christmas a bit differently from others. Because the Girl is working in San Francisco, the Boy, the Ber, Mrs. Laz and I decided to bring Christmas to her and are staying at a lovely hotel that has a living room and a dinning room so we can share a Christmas Eve dinner together. On Christmas Day we will head to Sacramento to join our new in-laws and my brother and his family for their Christmas celebrations.

Like most people, I have a Christmas gift wish list. It’s doubtful someone will answer my request since I want one of those Air Force Drones so I can smite my enemies from 15,000 feet anytime I want. It would be a most useful gift, too, because this year I have collected a few more enemies worth smiting. But I would even go without such a practical gift for an evening with my family (and I think that’s the right thing to say here).

Sometimes we get so caught up in making sure we find just the right gift for our loved ones that we forget that just being with them is a gift in itself. To that end, we will be overflowing with what we all want for Christmas: peace and love. Can’t wait to unwrap it. May all your Christmases and various holidays be filled with the ones you love close at hand.

I'm Full Of Gas

2008-12-10T22:55:00.000-08:00

As difficult as it is to believe, it was my pleasure filing up my gas tank today. It truly was. My car gets about 20 miles per gallon, has an 18-gallon fuel tank and requires premium gasoline (so they tell me). So just a few months ago, when premium gas was more than $4 per gallon, it cost me more than $70 to fill up the tank. Today it only set me back $31.30. It was a weird feeling to see such a small number on the pump screen.

With oil prices continuing to drop, there are predictions that we’ll be paying less than $1 per gallon in the not so distant future. All this is good news to everyone except to two classes of people; loudmouth politicians who still don’t understand that commodity prices fluctuate and those people whose entire economy is based on petrol-dollars.

There are some concerns for such a sudden drop in oil prices. The oil producing countries are by-and-large populated by people on the fringe between sanity and blowing up Western cities and the only thing keeping them in line is the gift of their share of the oil revenue. Since our gain is there loss, we probably ought to be switching colors on our threat codes soon. And, really, I would be thinking about this problem more and worrying about the cost to oil producing countries and the loss in oil companies’ revenue if I just wasn’t so happy thinking about that much smaller number that was charged to my gas card today. Please pass along my regrets to the Sheiks and stockholders of Exxon-Mobil.

Blago v Royko

2008-12-10T22:36:00.000-08:00

Please don’t interpret this post as me backsliding on my earlier pledge to tone down the political commentary. This is more about missing a good newspaper columnist than it is about politics.

The abuse of power in Illinois by its governor Rod Blagojevich – and I’m having fun learning how to pronounce his name, Bla-goi-ya-vich – brings up some of the better Illinois political thieves of days gone by. Most notably this brings up former Mayor Richard Daley and, by extension, Chicago newspaper columnist Mike Royko. I don’t miss Daley so much, but I do miss Royko who died in 1997. His column always appeared in my local newspaper on Wednesdays and gave me something to look forward to. After he died, I stop reading the editorial page altogether.

Royko dogged Mayor Daley, calling him on every misstep, misdeed and overt illegal act he ever did. He even wrote a book called “Boss” about the mayor, perhaps the best book ever written about local politics. As antagonistic to the mayor as Royko was, when Daley died in 1983, Royko wrote what you would call an appreciative column detailing the mayor’s immigrant beginnings and how that played into the Machine Politics still practiced today in Chicago. In that column Royko wrote: “The people who came here in Daley's lifetime were accustomed to someone wielding power like a club, be it a czar, emperor, king, or rural sheriff. The niceties of the democratic process weren't part of the immigrant experiences. So if the Machine muscle offended some, it seemed like old times to many more.”

One could only wish Royko was around today writing about the new Machine in Illinois led by Governor Blagojevich and in Chicago by Daley’s son. He’d be having a field day and would have likely known more about the governor’s offenses than the special prosecutor. It’s also a safe bet that Royko’s writings would have been so devastating that Blagojevich would have already resigned.

If anyone has an interest in reading some old columns by Royko, if for no other reason than to understand there is no journalist like him today, you can buy a collection of his columns. R.I.P Mike, we still miss your steely eye, sharp wit and dogged determination.

Movin' On

2008-12-05T17:10:00.000-08:00

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately because, well, I've had a lot of time to think.

The weeks since the presidential election, I have been getting dozens of e-mails ranging anywhere from urging me to make calls on behalf of both Senate candidates in Georgia, to dire warning of financial collapse because Obama is in the driver's seat on the Good Ship Recession, to even e-mails that explain in great detail how Obama is the Anti-Christ.

Enough!

So I don't feel like that Japanese soldier who gets stumbled upon in 1958 on an outer island still fighting World War II, I have decided to stop paying attention to these e-mails. I've also decided no more conspiracy theories and no more conservative talk radio for a while. I think it's time to move on politically and just have fun with the process of living. As one of our leading modern philosophers, Rodney King, once said, "Can't we all just get along?" Hope so.

Better Than Me

2008-12-05T16:45:00.000-08:00

Well, as usual, someone said it better than I did. What hurts about this is, it has come from someone who doesn't live in the U.S. and is not written in her native language. To make matters worse, she is not living in her native country and therefore has at least three languages rolling around between her ears (I also think she speaks French, so maybe four).

She decided to be long-winded on a comment to my post What Is Wrong With The World?, and wrote her response on her own blog. It's worth reading and poking fun at her misspellings and getting her to explain her yoghurt and soup metaphor. I will also link to her blog on the right column because she always has something to say and, occasionally, it is interesting and usually well-written.

In Memory Of My Grandma (and others)

2008-12-03T18:39:00.000-08:00

Seven years ago my grandmother died and three years ago I wrote this about her. I would write about her again, but what I wrote a few years ago seems to sum it up best.

This year, the anniversary of my mother's death and the day my mother-in-law passed went without notice. I'm not sure, but I think it is a good thing that we eventually forget such solemn days. Maybe it's a sign we're moving on, if that's possible, with losing people we cared about so deeply.

In any event, I wanted to remember my grandmother on this day and it made me look back at what I wrote earlier and I know I liked reading it again. I'm not sure if you will but, what the heck, this is a vanity blog.

Editor's Note: I originally had this planned to post on December 3, the actual anniversary of her death but my friggin' Dell piece o' crap computer froze up and I lost the post.

Bailing Out The Big Three

2008-12-03T18:33:00.000-08:00

Just a quick thought on hypocrisy and perception. Last month, CEOs of the Big Three automakers came to Washington in private jets to explain why they should be able to gobble up a big share of taxpayer largesse. All had received multi-million dollar bonuses for losing billions (I’m sure their bonuses were minor in comparison to the cost of the mistakes they all made) and each came with what seemed like a chip on their shoulders as they appeared to be demanding money.

They offered Members of Congress little more than threats of the imminent demise of the domestic auto industry and the loss of potentially millions of jobs (and, by implication, millions of votes). At no time did they offer a concrete plan on how they would rebuild their companies to turn or profit or even produce a product Americans want.

Since they were asking the taxpayer to take a stake in their company – and I’m still a taxpayer (for the moment) – it would have been nice for them to be a bit better prepared and give us more of a plan and fewer overt threats. I certainly couldn’t go to a bank and ask for a bailout on the basis that I would go out of business without their help. In fact, because of the actions of companies like the automakers, I can’t consider asking the bank for even a free toaster anymore.

Predictably our representatives in Congress used the Capitol pulpit to preach austerity to the CEOs, chiding them on wasteful spending, lack of leadership and poor planning. Just to be clear, weren’t these lectures coming from the same people who tacked on $160 billion in pork to the “bailout” bill and who seemingly have a blank check to spend our money buying up every industry that hasn’t moved to China? Isn’t this the same group that built the Capitol Visitor Center because Senator Reid had difficulty with “smelly” tourists visiting his office with an original price estimate of $71 million and a final cost of $650 million? Who are they to lecture, and who do we complain to when they blow our money like an alcoholic on pay day?

Eventually the automakers were shamed enough that they regrouped, huddled with their lobbyists, and went through a crash course on how to grovel with panache to elected officials who think they own the country. Two of three CEOs promised they would take only $1 in salary next year, which would leave them to have to live on the $30 million in bonuses they received the previous year (memo to self, let three of the maids and two butlers go to make it through the pay cut). On the second visit to beg for money, the CEOs chose not to fly their private jets – even went so far as to say they would sell them – and instead drove to Washington from Detroit (no details yet on whether or not they were chauffeured and if they ate breakfast at Perkins along the highway heading south).

Despite their new etiquette, it looks like it won’t be enough. Predictions by Senator Reid and Speaker Pelosi indicate they don’t have the votes for a bailout of the domestic auto industry. It should be noted that Speaker Pelosi, who spared little sarcasm in her attack on the wealthy CEOs, doesn’t drive to out-of-town meetings or take the Metro to work. She flies on a taxpayer-funded Gulfstream G3, the same make and model flown by the automaker CEOs. Her reasoning is that the president and the vice president get their own planes to shuttle them around and, since she’s third in line to the presidency, she can’t be bothered going through security and sitting on JetBlue to fly between San Francisco and Washington. I’ve seen plenty of Congressional Members sipping wine with me in first class to Washington and even saw Janet Reno stuck in economy. I think Pelosi will be fine flying like the rest of us, and even picking up some frequent flyer miles for a really cool vacation!

In some way, I am interested to see what happens if they don’t get the money. It may tell us a lot about the use of taxpayer money to bail out any industry, including the banking industry. There are no visible signs that the financial services bailout has done anything for the average person and it would likely be a safe bet that the world will continue to spin on its access if the Big Three were forced to shut down or reassemble in a leaner, meaner fashion. It may tell us that the financial services sector should have been forced to do the same thing. I say, Let ‘em squirm.

What Is Wrong With The World?

2008-12-01T22:50:00.000-08:00

It’s an old cliché but maybe it’s so old because the question is still on the table: What is wrong with the world?

Recently we’ve been witness to vicious attacks on innocent civilians in Mumbai, perpetrated by hate-filled and cold-blooded killers. Of course these attacks are more noticed because the international press is all over Mumbai and we were able to see graphic photos of the attacks and read even more graphic details as the killers methodically picked their targets throughout the city.

But the 60 hours of fighting in Mumbai is just the tip of the iceberg in other parts of the world. Untold numbers of people have been killed and displaced in the eastern region of the Democratic Republic of Congo. Since hostilities between government forces and rebels broke out in 1998, more than 5.8 million people have been killed, the most in any war since World War II. Following a brief break in the fighting, the killings began anew in September and there are no good estimates on the number of people killed recently.

In Nigeria, as many people were killed last week – and the week before – as were killed in Mumbai due to ethnic and religious struggles that have plagued the region for decades. We hear little about the all-too regular Nigerian violence unless it interrupts the flow of oil.

Just 30 miles to the south from where I am writing this, sensational murders between rival Mexican drug gangs are in the dozens each week. Police have also been targeted and many executed in recent months. All of this is due to the fact that Colombian drug lords decided to outsource drug sales into the U.S. and now it’s probably safer for an American to take a stroll down a street in Baghdad than it is in most Mexican border towns.

But this is the macro. Evil has been present in some form since the first bite of the apple. We in the U.S. don’t often meet the face of such evil that those in the rougher neighborhoods of the world do. The terrorist attacks on 9/11 were a rare exception. Instead we have to look at a more civilized evil, if you will, one that can turn perfectly well-adjusted people into self-preservationists with a kill or be killed attitude.

The recent financial meltdown is an interesting sociological experiment. How people are responding to it says more about who they really are than how well they behaved when money and toys were piling up. This recession is scary, don’t get me wrong. But will it be remembered for a store clerk being trampled to death so shoppers could save a buck, or will it be remember for how millions handled pressure with grace and charity? The jury is out still, but it doesn’t appear we have come close to finding our bottom and so many people seem so restless one must wonder how long before they all begin to snap.

Tough times have come to people I love and cherish and there is one thing I know of them: they are the kind of people who will face the challenges that lie ahead with perseverance and a respect for the needs of all. I believe their Judgment Day, if there is such a singular day, will be kind to them during this time of uncertainty and maybe they will lead us to the point when we’ll no longer have to ask the question, What is wrong with the world?

The Girl Turns 25!

2008-11-09T21:17:00.001-08:00

I feel a bit older today because my daughter seems a bit older today. She turned 25, a quarter of a century. I can remember when I celebrated my 25th birthday and, for some reason, I felt I had reached adulthood. Of course it would be decades later before I could get anyone else to agree on that.

It was also the Girl’s first trip back to Carlsbad after moving to San Francisco. I’ve seen her twice since she moved and Mrs. Laz hasn’t seen her since the end of September so it was great to see her smiling face walking out of the airport terminal. She’s only here for a few days, and likely mostly here to see her dog Spooner and her three-legged cat Nubs, but she’s coming back south for Thanksgiving – so we have that to be thankful for.

As the photos indicate, she was warmly welcomed by the fury members of the family (although the Boy, with his pony tail, could be considered a fury member these days). Being without her animal friends was one of the sacrifices she had to make in moving to San Fran, but they are making up for lost time.

It’s great to have her here and seeing her in our family room seems like old times. I know she’s happy up north – I can hear it in her voice when she calls on the phone – but I know Mrs. Laz and I really miss her. She’s such a character, particularly around her birthday because she demands the center of attention – even more than usual.

Happy birthday, sweetheart, we both love and miss you greatly but are happy for you to be where you want to be. It will sure be interesting to see where we all are one year from now as we celebrate your 26th.

This Says It All From The Onion

2008-11-07T12:06:00.000-08:00

Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are

About Moving Objects

2008-11-05T16:07:00.000-08:00

There use to be a day when I thought about writing the Great American Novel on a daily basis. Shortly after my kids were born (and after I had resisted the urge to sell my daughter to a Gypsy family), I used them as my muse or my inspiration. I was in my car a lot in those days and had a tape of Bob Seger’s Greatest Hits that I listened to constantly. As I drove and listened and drove and listened, it occurred to me, whether the artist meant to or not, that his songs told a story. I may have also been hallucinating.

At any rate, I began to formulate an idea for a novel based on the songs and, being a Midwestern boy myself, it settled around a guy who moved from Michigan to California to find himself, only to discover he had already done so in his children. I wrote 20-30 pages before I gave up (as usual), but I remember one line I wrote that has always stuck with me: God only helps moving objects.

Fast forward 20 years and the line has come back to me. It is a natural inclination when times are tough for people to freeze. I’ve frozen many times and I can say from experience nothing good comes of it. So I began to create my own inertia recently and have begun to push for things to happen. To my surprise, my movement has led to movement from others and suddenly I am feeling much better about my business and personal prospects.

Twenty years ago, I wrote a short line and then forgot about it. I wish I hadn’t because I really believe we have to create our own success and create our own opportunities. And it doesn’t hurt to have God’s help when you’re trudging up a hill.

This Righteous Wind Blows

2008-11-03T15:20:00.000-08:00

Presidential candidate – and we must remember he is still just the candidate and not actually the president – Barak Obama has taken to mentioning his campaign has a “righteous wind” at its back, a biblical reference to being ordained by God to do His work. Yikes. Obama did admit to having a “healthy ego,” although believing you are anointed by God to become president doesn’t fit only in the healthy ego category. Perhaps it crosses into delusional.

And this is where I have the greatest problem with moving Obama into the White House. There are far too many people who believe his election will amount to such radical change and the people of the world will all be standing hand in hand, bringing universal peace and understanding to the planet. He’s a skilled orator and very good at keeping his messages short and simple for the masses to understand, but I am still not convinced he is anything more than a typical Chicago-style political hucksters selling us what we think we want to hear.

The other day I was talking to an old dog republican consultant who goes back to the Nixon campaigns. He told me he had been in many winning and losing campaigns and, regardless of the way the election went, he still woke up the next morning with the knowledge that not much had really changed. However, he worries that the expectations on Obama are so large that there is no way he can live up to the self-inflicted hype. He worries more that if McCain were to win, people would be leaping from buildings believing the world will soon end.

But getting down to just the factual basics of this election, I have the following reasons why I would support John McCain over Barak Obama in tomorrow’s election.

1. Foreign Policy. Believe it or not, I think both candidates are just plain awful in this category and I if it was possible to find two candidates and running mates with such weird foreign policy views. McCain has been famously misquoted as saying we will stay in Iraq for 100 years and labeled a war monger for suggesting Iran was next on the target list. Obama hasn’t mentioned Iran as a potential target, however he did say he wouldn’t rule out attacking nuclear-armed Pakistan with a population of 175 million people if they didn’t behave better. Both of these statements are irresponsible and show a complete lack of common sense.

I have further problem with McCain because of his devotion to the U.S. version of democracy at all costs. McCain has routinely supported outright dictators who have won rigged elections because they were simply an enemy of our enemy and therefore a friend. He’s an active meddler in the affairs of other countries and there is no place for that kind of behavior if we want to see America’s standing in the world restored. Nixon engaged China, Clinton sold out to China and Bush sold the country to China. It would be nice to move back to just engagement.

My concern about Obama’s foreign policy is that he doesn’t have any experience and is dangerously naïve. We all know what he meant when he said he would meet various despots without “preconditions” and no parsing of the phrase now will convince me it meant something different. It’s what Kennedy believed before meeting in Vienna with Khrushchev and it resulted in absolute disaster, bringing us the Berlin Wall and communist Cuba. Kennedy’s move told the world he was weak and that America no longer had a backbone, which left the door open for bad people to do bad things. There are still bad people willing to do bad things in the world and I am deathly afraid that they will believe Obama lacks the stones to stand up to them. He may be able to keep the Barbarians at the gate by boring them with lengthy speeches about the audacity of hope, but, in the end, he will be tested and tested frequently. How will he respond? He could blunder us into a war by attempting to look tough, or he could just go back to his standard way of ducking issues he doesn’t want to deal with by voting “present.”

Sure Obama will make the Europeans happy and give rise to American popularity as we vacation in Paris, but in the end, I worry about his judgment in key foreign policy areas and his unknown reaction to challenges much more than I worry about McCain handling the nuclear football.

2. Economy. Presidents get far too much credit for economic good times and far too much criticism to economic downturns. In other words, presidents do very little to disrupt or create economic prosperity. In most cases, it is just wise for presidents to stay out of the way of the economy and not try to micromanage something so large and diverse. The most recent downturn and the monumentally stupid reaction to our economy will saddle the next president with huge liabilities and a message that will tell business leaders and consumers that no matter how stupid they are, they can always count on the taxpayer to bail them out. Not really a good message, actually.

From what I have seen of McCain for the past 20 years, he is a fiscal moderate who sees the best role for government is to meddle in the economy the least. He believes higher taxes on businesses and producers during a recession will make the recession worse and he would like to see an end to earmarks and other pork-barrel spending. I doubt he will get it, but it’s admirable to have as a goal.

As for Obama, he is selling the same snake oil that has been sold in a different bottle for the past century. Herbert Hoover promised a “chicken in every pot” to voters desperate for the hand of government to help them in the toughest of economic times. Franklin Roosevelt gave us the New Deal and Lyndon Johnson gave us the Great Society. All were promises to have government fix whatever ailed the country. Looking back, none succeeded because, if they did, why are we still required to help the “needy” in this country? Weren’t all the other programs, with trillions spent and nearly a century to get right, able to crack the code to help the needy? Apparently Obama feels we still need something to level the playing field to help the needy at the expense of the wealthy.

It is classic class warfare spun a different way in order to sound populous. The only candidate who really admitted he was going to take from the rich and give to the poor was McGovern in 1972, but since he was the victim of one of the largest landslides in presidential history, those who came after him have repackaged the message. Unless you count Obama’s “spread the wealth” statement he made when he didn’t think the cameras were on, he has always talked of his tax plan as 95% or Americans getting a tax cut, which probably sounds fair to 95% of the voters. If this is what he really means and his 95% figures are accurate, then 47 million Americans who pay no taxes at all will be getting a refund. Let that sink in a bit: People who currently pay no taxes will get a $500 refund ($1,000 for married couples) according to his own tax plan calculator. Where will this money come from? From me and the dwindling number of people who will be paying an increasingly larger portion of our income in taxes. In other words, it is an unstainable tax program as we will all eventually be taxed out of existence. The OECE, an organization loosely governed by the U.N., recently release a report saying that the U.S. had the most progressive tax system of Western democracies. This means our country has the dubious distinction of having the largest tax burden fall on the wealthiest taxpayers. And Obama wants to increase this burden.

My political consigliore Paul Gann once told me there was a sad change in the expectation of government between his generation and the current generation. Paul, who was born in a small town in Arkansas, told me that when Brother John’s barn burned down, the community got together and rebuilt the barn. They didn’t do this because the government told them they had to, but because they knew it was the right thing to do to lend a helping hand and because they knew Brother John would do the same for them. The trend now seems to be that most people wait for the government to take care of them, now in such a way that many people in New Orleans blame the government for not forcing them to leave the city when a Category 5 hurricane was bearing down on them. I find Obama’s message that government can be all things to all people at best pandering for their vote and at worse continuing to destroy our true sense of community where people help each other and not because of coercion from the government.

It has always been puzzling to me why so many wealthy politicians support higher taxes for the “wealthy” since most of them are wealthy. But there is nothing in the tax code that precludes these wealthy individuals to pay more to the federal government if they really believe they are better stewards of their money and better able to take care of the needy and poor. Hell, Obama can start with his own family and get his relatives living in poverty in Boston a check.

3. Healthcare. Obama wants to see every American covered by health insurance, be it a government or employer-backed program. As I understand it, he wants to either get the government in the health care business or give employers the option to cover their employees or pay, essentially, a fine so the government can provide the coverage. McCain has been on record of wanting to get the government out of the health care business and getting the employer out of the business of supplying healthcare to workers. He believes that too many people get screwed over when they rely on their employer to provide their health care coverage both in the options available and the fact they lose their insurance if they lose their jobs. McCain wants to see the market work with individuals being able to better tailor their health care insurance plans to their own needs and to have it regardless of employment status. Sounds a lot better to me than the DMV running our health care system and having rationed care.

Lord knows there are dozens of other reasons why we support the candidates we do, not the least of which are all the side shows. I am not at all happy with McCain’s choice for VP and neither am I pleased with Obama’s choice of one of the least intelligent members of the Senate, especially when there were far better choices available to both of them. I am also very aware this post will persuade no voters and the election is a foregone conclusion.

Some days I get ideas about writing different books before it goes down my sinkhole of procrastination. One of the ideas I had recently was to take an academic look at where we would be today had Gore been elected in 2000. I even had a good idea for a name; 538 Votes. I did a bit of research on it and I basically figured things wouldn’t be too different. I know that may sound odd to some of you, but based on who would have made up a Gore Administration, I think a lot of the key decisions made by Bush would have been made by Gore. Basically, it’s the way I feel about Obama. I think he could cause huge problems but, in the end, I hope he will do no greater or less harm than McCain would do if he would have been elected. Maybe that’s where this idea of “hope” comes in, for me at least.

UPDATE: Now remember, republicans vote on Tuesday and democrats and independents vote on Wednesday. I wasn't sure if my readers were aware of the change in voting laws. Thanks for allowing me the opportunity to forward this information on.

The Final Six Demands

2008-11-02T22:44:00.000-08:00

Sorry to do this to you all as I know everyone is pretty damn tired of the election by now. I’m sure you feel overwhelmed with the bombardment of last minute advertising on all of the measures on the November ballot. Aren’t you glad we’re not in a swing state for president having to be hit every two minutes with an ad tearing down one or the other candidates? I’ll post my comments on the presidential election tomorrow or, if the mood doesn’t strike me, I could post on Tuesday or Wednesday as I am sure my position is well known by my readers and passersby.

But, as promised, what follows are my thoughts on the remaining six ballot measures and, if only I could vote, which way I would cast my ballot. Now, see that line in the photo, go get in it and do your duty.

Proposition 7: RENEWABLE ENERGY GENERATION. INITIATIVE STATUTE.
This initiative is sponsored by Peter Sperling, the son of the founder of University of Phoenix and a more frequent gadfly in California politics. He has donated more than $7.5 million for the Yes side of this initiative while PG&E and Southern California Edison have spent more than $28 million to oppose. Sperling may have his heart in the right place, but the measure is flawed in a few areas. First, it requires more bond money; $5 billion ($10 billion more in debt obligation). With a state already reeling in bond debt, why add more? Second, it is far too aggressive in its requirements to have 50% of energy produced in the state to be renewable by 2025 (and 20 percent by 2010). Most energy observers believe this is impossible and the measure will impose stiff penalties (along with huge development costs) on the state’s utilities that will be passed on to consumers in the form of rate hikes. Third, it can only be changed if agreed by two-thirds of the Legislature, and with energy policy in constant flux these days, Californians and the Legislature need more flexibility to change what is likely a flawed law. Finally, it is supported by Tom Hayden and anything supported by him has a certain odor about it. Laz urges a No vote on Prop. 7.

Proposition 8: ELIMINATES RIGHT OF SAME–SEX COUPLES TO MARRY. INITIATIVE CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT.
I have a tough time getting too worked up about this entire issue because I just can’t seem to figure out why there is such a fuss with opponents of same sex marriage. It is almost too easy to use the line that gays and lesbians should be able to marry so they can be as miserable as the rest of us, but, really, how would people in committed and loving relationships getting married, regardless of their orientation, hurt the notion of “traditional” marriage? Opponents believe that marriages between same-sex couples would serve as a bad moral message. However, there are many straight couples who divorce regularly (a bad message), who cheat on their spouse regularly (a bad message), who live together while not married (I think a good message, but opponents wouldn’t think so), or people who continue to stay in loveless marriages (a terrible message). If gays and lesbians want to make the ultimate commitment and get married, more power to them. You’d think opponents would be happy that gays and lesbians would stop “living in sin.” I, along with divorce attorneys throughout the state looking to increase their business, urge a No vote on Prop. 8. However, I do have bone to pick with the gay and lesbian community (do I really have to include “transgender” to be cool?): Give us back the rainbow as your symbol. I can’t believe you stole refracted light from us.

Proposition 9: CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM. VICTIMS’ RIGHTS. PAROLE. INITIATIVE CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT AND STATUTE.
I have a good friend who had the guts to stare down the murderer of her brother and give a powerful speech to deny him early parole. Everyone in the penal system told her she was wasting her time, but her impassioned plea to the parole board kept the killer locked up for at least another 10 years. She did this not only for her brother, but also because she knew this killer wasn’t the least bit reformed and would likely harm someone else. Prop. 9 gives empowerment to the family members of victims of violent crimes in California by letting them know when parole hearings are scheduled, when criminals will be released from prison and even giving family members needed protection if and when these violent animals are out of prison on bail. There are some holes in the California justice system that favor criminals over crime victims and this just levels the playing field. Laz demands a Yes vote on Prop. 9.

Proposition 10: ALTERNATIVE FUEL VEHICLES AND RENEWABLE ENERGY. BONDS. INITIATIVE STATUTE.
I have difficulty with this measure. For one, is it another $5 billion in bond – or, remember, at least $10 billion in state obligations before it is paid back. The money is to go toward the production and use of alternative fuels and, ostensibly, have us less reliant on foreign oil. The initiative has been bought and paid for by T. Boone Pickens, a Texas oilman whose net worth is $2.7 billion – or at least it used to be. While by all appearances Pickens believes this is the best thing for future energy consumption, I am a bit uncomfortable supporting his idea when he is asking for the California taxpayers to entrust him with $10 billion on the hunch he’s right. Pickens is a smart man and he may have the right idea, I’d just rather see him put up his own money and fund alternative sources himself. If Californians flock to his ideas, he’ll be worth billions more. If the idea is good enough for the taxpayers, then certainly it is good enough for private investors. While it appears there are good intentions here, Laz urges a No vote on Prop. 10.

Proposition 11. REDISTRICTING. INITIATIVE CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT AND STATUTE.
I have worked on similar measures in California at least five times and all five failed because they never got bipartisan support. In the past, it had always been republicans trying to amend the way legislative districts get drawn up to keep the democrats from creating so many safe seats for their incumbents. This measure finally has bipartisan support and, while the change offered may change nothing at all, it deserves your vote. There has always been a wolf-guarding-the-henhouse problem with legislators drawing up their own districts. It has been too easy for the party in charge to draw district lines in such a way that it creates a permanent majority. With so many safe seats drawn up to protect incumbency, it has made elections a farce and requiring voters to only have the choice of candidates handpicked by the party’s hierarchy. Prop. 11 will create a 14-member commission to draw legislative district boundaries and let’s hope they can do a better job. Laz says Yes to 11.

Proposition 12. VETERANS’ BOND ACT OF 2008.
Like policemen and firemen, it’s difficult to say no to veterans, but I am saying No to this bond measure. The $900 million in bond money (so $1.8 billion) is to go to veterans so they can buy farms and homes. I respect veterans’ service to our country, but can’t see why we should single them out over others. There are many people who serve their country (police and fire workers included), so it strikes me as unfair that one group would get money from the taxpayers to buy what all the rest of us are struggling to keep, thanks in no small measure to the amount of taxes we pay. The government shouldn’t be segmenting the population and letting one group get something that no other group gets. I think that’s called state-sponsored bias. Laz is telling you to vote No on Prop. 12.
So that’s it for now folks. Go figure out where your polling place is, stand in line and vote and get your “I Voted” sticker. You’ll feel better and I will rest easy that you will be voting against me and saddling me with bad laws. Thanks a lot.

Living On A Thin Line

2008-10-28T17:57:00.000-07:00

This is a difficult thing to write about but even more difficult to keep bottled up. Lately I have been lamenting (yes, Lazlo laments) about the personal affect the economic downturn has had on me. Sure, I get the macro and even have my own villain’s list, but that aspect of the mess seems so trivial when it touches your own life and the lives of the people you care about.

Over the past few months I have had to lay off friends and associates to stem the bleeding in my own business and have seen others I care deeply about lose their own jobs. With very little in the way of employment prospects out there right now – made even more troubling by the fact that most companies don’t consider hiring leading up to the holidays – it’s very depressing for those without jobs. Add to the fact that most of the people I know who are looking are in professional fields or fields hit the hardest by the economy, and it is very bleak indeed.

It’s so difficult to watch people I know and care about go through this, and it has been very painful for me to make my own economic-based decisions that I know affect the lives of some very good friends and hard workers. It has offered me no solace that I know what it feels like to be on both sides of this equation; just anger. I can never say I am sorry enough to those whose jobs I took by putting my own financial needs ahead of their own. I will suffer through this more than people will ever know because I know it is due to my own failures to be a better steward of my business that caused it.

Most of us were raised with the understanding that we had to fend for ourselves, create our own opportunities, become educated or trained and, especially, be responsible. I think we’ve all been aware of the downside of failing in these areas. Lately, however, there has been a subtle shift in many people’s thinking and what they expect of themselves. I sense there has been a growing expectation that we’re all working with a safety net and others are ready to catch us if they happen to fall, even if they fall out of their own carelessness. Once someone gets to this way of thinking I guess you expect the safety net will get as large as necessary.

It has become far too easy to walk away from responsibility lately. The ability to walk away from one’s problems with little debris left in the way may be the hallmark of the first decade of this century. I know far too many people, responsible people, who have walked away from their homes and businesses; some who could have either avoided the underlying problems that pushed them to their decision or who made bad choices in the first place. I don’t pretend to know what went on in their minds as they made their choices or how agonizing their decisions were. I am sure it has not been a picnic to lock the door in their empty house for the last time. And far be it for me to chatise them when I have walked away from some of my employees.

I guess where I get selfish in my own thinking is that these decisions, when added together with so many similar decisions by others, begins to bring the rest of us down in this slow death spiral. When one house gets taken back by the bank and sold at a hugely reduced price, it causes all the other houses in the neighborhood to lose value. When you get too many houses being sold by banks that are under no pressure to get top dollar, suddenly the whole area sees a drop in home values. Naturally this has a negative impact on the economy in general, causes governments to bail out banks who made these loans (many unsound loans, mind you) and tightens credit to the point that it is essentially unavailable.

And here’s the part where it gets personal: The safety net is now gone for me and my family. Our retirement account has been devastated by the stock market crash, my business has been nearly shut down due to a collapse of personal and corporate wealth and now the one area where I thought I could always count on as a nest egg, my home, is losing value so quickly that I am panicked.

OK, so woe is me. I get it that there are people worse off and many who didn’t want to walk away from their homes. But the fact that it has been made so easy and in such large numbers is trickling up to those of us who took out a fixed rate loan and have (had) 40 percent equity in our homes. The message almost seems to discourage people from keeping their job and their house; the government will be there to pick up the broken pieces. The same is true for businesses. Why should anyone work at keeping a business afloat when a bailout is around the corner? I guess the part that troubles me and worries me to the core is, what happens when there is nobody left to hold the safety net, and are we almost there?

If I Had A Vote

2008-10-26T23:41:00.000-07:00

As some of you may know, I am not a registered voter (or registered anything, if that clears some things up). I usually get strange looks when revealing this information but, then, I am used to strange looks. I have just a few reasons why I refuse to participate in what most people call “the democratic process.”

1. Voting for politicians only encourages them, and I really believe this. If we stop voting for them, they’d all go away and we’d live happily ever after. Furthermore, when a candidate claims victory by securing 45% of the vote with a 45% election turnout they are not the real winner. Statistically, the real winner is “none of the above,” because 55% chose to not vote for any of the knuckleheads running in the election while the proclaimed “winner” received just a bit more than 20% of eligible registered voters. By most standards, 55%-20% is a landslide.

2. Speaking of knuckleheads, are any of you truly happy with the people who are elected to lead us? Think of your council members, county supervisors, assembly and senate members, Congressional members and president. Would you hire any of them to do anything for you (assuming you know their name)? Well I wouldn’t hire a single one to simonize my car so why would I want them to run a government that ultimately runs my life? Give me anarchy over wars, financial collapses and taxes any day; at least I’d have a fighting chance.

3. Finally, I am involved in the democracy process in that I help citizens participate in direct democracy – or, better put, citizens going around our elected officials with ballot measures that speak to needed change that is ignored by those we send to various capitols. It’s an imperfect system, but still better than relying on people we all wanted to beat up in school to make decisions on more than 6,000 laws that get offered in California each year alone.

Since my vote doesn’t count – and you should all be happy it doesn’t – I will at least try to influence others in voting on the various California ballot measures. If I convince a few of you to see it MY WAY, then I will have actually accumulated three or four votes, which is similar math to ACORN’s master plan. What follows is the first six of the 12 measures on the California ballot and how one should vote and the reasons why. The other six will be in a soon-to-be-published post.

Proposition 1A: SAFE, RELIABLE HIGH-SPEED PASSENGER TRAIN BOND ACT.
Normally I hate bond measures because they have to be paid back with interest and the way California’s bond rating is heading to junk bond status, that interest could add up to repayments of three times the original bond. However, in this case, I have two friends who are in the high-speed train business and they may get some work out of this and take me and the Mrs. to dinner a few times. Probably not an even exchange for the added tax burden, but I am feeling generous tonight and urging a Yes vote.

Proposition 2: STANDARDS FOR CONFINING FARM ANIMALS. INITIATIVE STATUTE.
I would have to urge a Yes vote on this or suffer a hemorrhage to the head from the Girl (she would kill me in the name of animal rights, which probably doesn’t make much sense, but enough of a threat that I don’t want to take the chance). So, for the sake of keeping me alive, please vote Yes.

Proposition 3: CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL BOND ACT. GRANT PROGRAM. INITIATIVE STATUTE. Okay, another bond and this one will cost us $2 billion to repay. But, you know, it’s for children’s hospitals and there are not enough hospitals that specialize in care for childhood illnesses and injuries. It should also be noted that this group is a client of mine and paid for the down payment on my house so, please, have a heart and vote Yes.

Proposition 4: WAITING PERIOD AND PARENTAL NOTIFICATION BEFORE TERMINATION OF MINOR’S PREGNANCY.
To me this has always been a no-brainer. A minor need to get permission from a parent to take an aspirin in schools these days, they should at least have to get a parent’s permission to have an abortion. Sure, there will be many tough discussions with the parents and, assuming your parent is not Sarah Palin, the talk may not result in an unwanted pregnancy or a “Juno Situation.” There are also provisions in the measure that allow a minor to seek a parental notification waiver from a judge if it can be shown that a minor is potentially endangered by telling a parent. My only reservation is that this measure is sponsored by a couple of real weenies. But I would suggest a Yes vote anyway.

Proposition 5: NONVIOLENT DRUG OFFENSES. SENTENCING, PAROLE AND REHABILITATION. INITIATIVE STATUTE.
Well the title sounds good and the concept of getting minor drug abusers out of our overcrowded jails seems like a good idea. But this measure fiddles around with a few other laws and actually allows reduced sentences for meth dealers and even makes it easier for white collar criminals (like corporate CEOs, real estate agents and mortgage and stock brokers) to walk. This measure was poorly drafted with the intent of getting one of the author’s kids out of jail. If I were to vote, I would vote No on this one.

Proposition 6: POLICE AND LAW ENFORCEMENT FUNDING. CRIMINAL PENALTIES AND LAWS. INITIATIVE STATUTE.
This initiative has good intentions and nobody will be certain if it will pan out unless it’s tried. Essentially this measure puts more cops on the street aimed at curbing gang violence. Since California is one of the few states with a rising homicide rate – ostensibly gang related – it might be a good idea to make an attempt to keep fewer people from being killed. The authors of this measure (who should have had the sense to hire me instead of others) say it won’t cost any money to the taxpayer as they will set up an independent board to review police costs. They actually think they can counter the additional spending on more cops by cutting wasteful spending in other areas. It will be a good trick if they can do it and I highly doubt they will be successful, but I think the bottom line merits of the measure are worthy of a Yes vote.

So I will review the other six on the ballot and, soon, my recommendation for who you should vote for president. I am sure there is a lot of suspense riding on that one!

Winning By Losing

2008-10-19T23:05:00.000-07:00

While the determined Sladed spent his Saturday at the desert in a 102.5-mile bike race, I participated in my own athletic challenge. Sladed burned 4,500 calories in his 6-hour 52-minute race; which is pretty good. But I bet I burned 10 percent of that today when I swam one mile, biked 6 miles (or 15% of Sladed’s achievement) and began to run two miles before getting a debilitating cramp in my calf. Sladed is training for an Ironman Triathlon and I’m conducting a Wussathlon.

Please don’t misunderstand, I am pushing my body further than I have since 70 pounds ago, but I much farther to do. Still, I am constantly amazed at how far the body can be pushed in the first place. Six months ago I couldn’t walk for 15 minutes on a treadmill and now, barring nasty cramps, I can usually run – with some walking – three miles on a treadmill. And I can swim up to 2.5 miles in a workout where I could barely swim 1,000 yards last May.

A lot of what I have been able to do is the direct result of watching Sladed continue to push his body to new and amazing limits. If I didn’t have him as an example, I am not sure I would have been as aggressive at testing the limits of my own body. So, I thank him for leading by example.

The interim news of my efforts is all good, too. Back in April, I finally had enough of my huge gut and poor health. I began a program that was something like the Biggest Loser TV show and lost 14 pounds in six weeks, dropping my weight from 246 to 232. I learned to make better choices in the food I put in my body and, as important, I began to exercise more regularly and more vigorously.

Since then, I am exercising on average 5-6 days each week and, while my diet has slipped some, I am still eating much better and much less. I now weigh 214 pounds, a loss of 32 pounds, and have the goal to be under 200 pounds by the end of the year. This also happens to have been my New Year’s resolution that I had no real belief I could keep. I wasn’t even sure I would try all that hard to fulfill the resolution.

My doctor even likes the results as my most recent blood test reveals that I am no longer technically a diabetic, my blood pressure is actually a bit low so my medication has been cut back, my cholesterol is also low, and a lot of the ailments that used to plague me no longer occur. In short, I feel marvelous.

As I am sure Sladed would concur, regular training and regular focus on diet leads the body and the mind to accept this as your normal lifestyle. Something clicks at some point that almost seems like a compulsion, but I am sure it is just the body settling into a routine. I think the routine can be fragile as I have been in this kind of shape before; about the time that Bill died. His death likely contributed to knocking me off course and, once you begin to slip, it’s such a slippery slope.

And I guess that’s the message that you, the reader, were likely looking for. Weight loss, or anything that requires such concentration, is a full time job and so difficult to keep up with each and every day – especially when tasty ginger snaps or gummy cinnamon bears are within reach. But I am thankful that I have Sladed around to set an example and the support and encouragement of my family to continue with this very worthwhile endeavor. Thank you to you all.

401-Keg Plan

2008-10-08T18:29:00.000-07:00

Thought for the day with a nod to Agent 69:

If you purchased $1,000 of Delta Airlines stock 1 year ago, you would have $49.00 today.

If you purchased $1,000 of AIG stock one year ago, you would have $33.00 today.

If you purchased $1,000 of Lehman Brothers stock 1 year ago, you would have $0.00 today.

But, if you purchased $1,000 worth of beer 1 year ago, drank all the beer, returned the aluminum cans for a recycling refund, you would have $214.00.

Based on the above, the best current investment plan is to drink heavily and recycle.

A recent study found that the average American walks about 900 miles a year. Another study found that Americans drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year. That means that, on average, Americans get about 41 miles to the gallon!

Makes you proud to be an American!

Where In The World Is Dick Cheney?

2008-09-30T15:01:00.000-07:00

The Boy and I were talking the other day and he posed the question, Has anyone seen Dick Cheney these days? I have to admit, I haven’t seen him on TV or in any news reports for several months.

This leads one to put the thinking cap on and figure out what he’s up to. Now The Boy believes he’s been clinically dead for years but has been kept alive by an intricate set of machinery powered by pure evil. Perhaps there is a glitch in the machinery and he’s been in for repairs or, in The Boy’s mind, perhaps he is working his way through the world and eating innocents as they scramble from his path.

I have a better theory and I think it casts a better light on our VP. I think he’s been saddling up on unmanned drones and raining fiery death on terrorists in the Middle East. Can’t you just see him riding a drone, twirling his cowboy hat and yelling “yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa hooooooooooooooo!” as he takes out another bad guy? If so, I say let him have his fun. His term is almost up.

The Bad News Keeps On Coming

2008-09-25T11:33:00.000-07:00

Lord knows we’ve all been hearing terrible news lately. From predictions of financial chaos and recession to foreign policy challenges around the world, the news has roughed up the national psyche. To add to the depressing news, I have had my own battle with the disillusionment of the legal process and fairness and accuracy among journalists.

The capper of the week came yesterday when Ali slowly and carefully came into my office to deliver the worst news of all: Diane Lane was giving up her movie career! Of course later on I found out she was only “considering” it, but even that hint of good news wasn’t enough to buck me up. Her reasons for wanting out are even suspect. She claims she wants to spend more time with her children, including her demon-spawn step kids from that Josh guy. She also said she was tired of the same old roles and coming off as an American sweetheart. Of course I support more roles for her that includes torrid scenes, but I still don’t think she should stop entertaining me, er, I mean us, just for that.

The thing that worries me most is that I have been writing a novel since 1962 and I have her in mind for the lead role after it becomes a best-seller and the movie rights are bought up. So, Diane, please wait for me. I’ll even write a dirty scene in the book if that helps you change your mind. If you want, your agent could contact my agent and we could take a meeting to discuss. Of course I don’t have an agent so you can just reach me through my blog and tell me where and when to meet. Please pretend to be someone else so you don’t tip off Mrs. Laz.

With so much bad news out there, I don’t know what to expect next. It would just be my luck to hear that Clay Aiken, the heartthrob of millions of older women, had come out of the closet. No, that would be too much to bear.

Defamation And No Dignity For The Departed

2008-09-19T14:45:00.000-07:00

Every now and again you wonder why so many people have been raised to pull the wings off flies. We would all agree that Sadists exist and, just to be clear, a good majority of them have chosen politics as their profession.

Over the past few days my company and I have been accused of organizing illegal activities and to make matters worse my brother, Bill Arno, has been specifically named as the ring leader. Most of you know this is impossible as he passed away three years ago and you’d think this fact would end the story and embarrass those who have decided for their own reasons to drag his name and my company’s name through the mud heap of politics. It didn’t.

As near as I can follow the story, a few weeks ago the San Bernardino County Democratic Party began to investigate complaints that people had been asked to register to vote and their party affiliation was changed to republican without their knowledge or consent. The sleuths at party headquarters were able to determine that the registration program was being run by a company that had in the past sub-contracted work for a sub-contractor that I routinely hire. I’ve never had warm-fuzzies about the guy but I don’t have warm-fuzzies about a lot the people and groups that work in my field.

The SB party must have believed it had a good scandal on its hands and, since politics and those who report on it live by scandal, there must have been a lot of salivating. For reasons I don’t quite yet understand, although I will relate my theory below, the finance chairman of the party, who I shall hereafter refer to simply as “Jackass,” figured there must be a puppet master to pull the strings of the accused. From what he told me, he engaged in three weeks of internet searches and decided that my company’s name had appeared in numerous – and dubious – news stories and, as he admitted, he decided to link us based on that assumption. For good measure, he decided to include Bill’s name specifically as the coordinator of the plot.

A press release was issued by the SB Party that included details of the alleged malfeasance and referenced Bill’s name along with the name of my company. A similar release was put out by the California Democratic Party, although they left our names out. The press release got the attention of the local press and I woke up one morning to an e-mail from Sladed with an attached story by the Riverside Press Enterprise that included the details as laid out by the SB Democratic Party.

I phoned one of the reporters who wrote the story at a cost of $2.99 per minute from being 5,000 miles and nine time zones ahead of Riverside (most would say that is not far enough away from Riverside). I asked her why in the name of Christ my name appeared in her story when she had not talked to me. She explained she tried but didn’t get a hold of me and then decided to run with the story without a confirmation or admission from me. Back in the day when I was a journalist, there were certain standards in place in which no editor would have allowed a reporter to write a story without making a stronger effort to reach the parties involved in the claim, especially when those making the claim are a political party sending out a press release to gain political advantage.

The story in the Riverside paper did not include Bill’s name so at that point I didn’t know too much about the details of the press release. I told the reporter that I was not involved with the project and that her story was erroneous and I berated her for not taking better care of the facts. She quoted me liberally and said she would make the corrections in a follow-up story she was working on. She acted sympathetic, and that is good, although I thought she should have acted embarrassed for being duped by a minor person working for a minor chapter of a political party.

A few hours later I was informed by Ali from the office that another reporter had called and wanted a comment from me on the story and also indicated that the county district attorney was considering charges against my firm. Despite the fact it was after midnight where I was, I called her. She had written a short entry with few details on her blog the night before but I hadn’t yet seen them.

When I called her she began to ask me questions about my involvement. I told her to slow down and to tell me where she was getting her information. This was when I learned about the press release. I asked her to read the part that referred to me and this is when she told me that Bill was named in the release. I was absolutely floored when I heard that and was speechless for a moment, still trying to figure out if I heard her correctly. Obviously I told her it was impossible because Bill had passed away and, without skipping a beat, she asked me if she could quote me on that bit of news. Stunned again, I became quite angry and, I suppose, cynical to her. I chided her for taking the bait without being more inquisitive of the source of the story.

After this bombshell I told her I wouldn’t speak with her anymore unless she gave me the name and contact information of the person who was responsible for putting out the press release. She complied and it turns out the author of the release (Jackass) worked for Bill and I a decade ago and was such a pain in the butt that we decided not to work with him anymore.

Rather than call him, because I had now figured out the revenge factor as a motivation behind the release, I tried to get the chairman of the local party on the phone. An intern there tracked her down and told me she would call me later in the day or the next day. Instead, Jackass called me. I started in on him and asked him if he was aware that Bill had died three years ago. Instead of this calling into question the veracity of his own story he asked me if I had any proof that Bill had died. I am not sure precisely the number of curse words I used, but one could use their imagination. While he was explaining how he arrived at using my company’s name in his press release – the links in his internet searches – he was searching for information on Bill’s death. Since he didn’t find any he accused me of lying and still wanted proof. I used more colorful words for him.

As with the reporter, I asked him why he didn’t call me to confirm what he had written. He told me there was no point as I would just lie to him, as I was lying about Bill. He even began to say negative things about Bill. I knew something about the company that had been hired to do the work and I gave him their name hoping this would end the nightmare, and then I told him I wanted a retraction of his press release and an apology. He refused to do so until he investigated my story, something I pointed out should have been completed before he chose to defame Bill and my company. I then hung up on the bastard (aka Jackass) and wrote a letter to the chairman that explained the press release was maliciously inaccurate and that I wanted it fixed or I would have somebody’s ass.

The next morning I woke up to this delightful headline “Man accused of voter fraud dead, brother says.” I immediately thought of Sue and Cass and Janee reading this and how they would feel to have to deal with this painful experience again. It also wasn’t a happy moment for me.

I waited the entire day for the chairman of the local party to write me back and let me know what she intended to do. When she didn’t, I contacted our lawyer who is very friendly with the chief counsel for the state democratic party, as am I. The dems’ lawyer agreed that the local party had made a mistake in naming me and he would have the state leaders contact them and suggest they offer a retraction. Instead, I got a ranting call from Jackass again in no mood to apologize. He complained to me that the person I had given him who I believed to be under contract for the voter registration drive hadn’t called him back. I told him it shouldn’t matter anymore as the Press Enterprise ran a story in the morning quoting a spokesman for the California Republican Party on the fact they had hired the contractor in question themselves. This wasn’t good enough for Jackass who said he would continue to investigate on his own. Apparently the Press Enterprise was good enough when it ran a story critical of Bill and me, but not when it clears our names.

I told Jackass about my lawyer’s conversation with the state party’s lawyer, but he didn’t seem to care. So I matter-of-factly told him that he had been given enough time to correct his press release and I would be suing him and the local party. However, perhaps out of morbid curiosity, I decided to call the local party chairwomen. I was interested in what she would say and, frankly, I half expected her to apologize herself and fire the Jackass. Instead she asked me about Bill again and said, “I find it unusual that we can’t find a story or an obituary about his death.” I asked her if she was a lunatic and questioned why this was so difficult to believe, why it was germane to the party’s story and pointed out that by then two newspapers had quoted me that Bill had died. I also read her the quote by the republican spokesman since I assumed she had not read the paper that morning. She said she had but didn’t believe what was in the newspaper. Strangely, both she and Jackass believe everything they read on the internet.

So I told her I would be suing them and she pleaded for more time to look into the matter. I told her the time to get it right had come and gone and the damage had been done by the printing of the first story. The main problem for me is that my political opponents love to plant negative stories about me and then string them all together to demonstrate this broad pattern of “illegal” behavior coordinated by me. My opponents will gladly use the first story, but not the second.

At the end of the conversation, I was shaking I was so angry. It felt like I had fallen down the Rabbit-Hole in Alice In Wonderland. Since Jackass had claimed to have done all his research on the internet, I thought I would do my own searches, particularly about Bill. Within two minutes, I had pulled up four mentions of Bill’s death doing a simple Yahoo! search. The first one that came up was an amazing, but heart-wrenching blog post by Bill’s friend Renfield who lives in Japan. He was with Bill when he first collapsed, gave him CPR and was with Sue and others when Bill took his last breath. His post gives great detail on how Bill passed and his last 48 hours while he was in the hospital. While it’s also a beautiful tribute, I guess I put Ren’s account out of my memory so reading it again just sent me over the edge. I balled like a baby and felt every moment of the pain Ren felt and later how Sue felt. I think Ren’s post is worth reading, but I can understand why people wouldn’t want to so I will end this article with the way Ren ended his post three years ago: “His room was overlooking the ocean and when he died the sky was blue and the haze was far, making the mountains float. The sound of the ocean waved through the room as slowly as his breath. His heart beat and his lungs filled with salt air for the last time. And the ocean waves rumbled on.”

Thank you to Ren for being such a good friend to Bill and Sue and also to Big Tony and “The Verduginator” for being there for Sue and holding her through the toughest moments of her life. No two-bit political hack is ever going to take away what Bill meant to all of us nor change the fact that he lived his life with integrity and honor. I chose to use Bill’s full name in this post because I want an account of this story to show up on the search engines and hopefully people will come to learn the truth.

The Big 3-0

2008-09-16T14:38:00.000-07:00

What can I say, she loves me. As far-fetched as it appears, Mrs. Laz has officially stuck with me -- off and on -- for 30 years now. That’s a lot of thin and not too much thick and a lot of oysters without too many pearls. No sense questioning her sanity because a reasonable evaluation of the facts does not support her 30-year commitment to me. In fact, if we’re talking about committing, it should be in the context of rubber walls and straight jackets for at least one of us.

Back in 1978, under the evening sky and low-flying aircraft we got hitched. Neither of us was old enough to shave back then, but we thought we were and we thought we had the maturity to endure. And despite the fact that we probably we’re too young and had too much confidence in our version of maturity we strung 30 years of marriage together. Just chalk it up to the fact that we grew into adulthood together and, for some reason, it just worked.

I was a little caught off guard by this anniversary because it’s not a “Silver” or a “Gold” or even a “Platinum” wedding anniversary. I am not even sure what gift category this falls under, although I guessed, incorrectly I am told, that it is aluminum foil. And with my well-stated aversion to “magic numbers,” I just figured it was no different than 29 years. Turns out, I was wrong.

To get out of my lack of proper preparation for this marriage milestone, I tried to dazzle her with my typical facts and figures. I told her that we have slept through one-third of our marriage, so that brings us down to 20 years. Then we have to take away the years she didn’t like me very much plus subtract the number of days I have been on the road. I think the math brings us down to about 14 years. Please don’t tell me that a 14-year anniversary deserves special notice.

This year’s anniversary has turned out to have a similar pattern as many other anniversaries and birthdays. She is at home and I am elsewhere, so we are celebrating our anniversary in multiple time zones and on different continents. Which reminds me (at the wrong time, as usual) of an old Woody Allen joke when he explains he is divorcing his wife. It was suggested that he and his wife take a vacation or get divorced. After some thought, he decides on the divorce by figuring a vacation is over in two weeks, but a divorce is something you always have. Maybe Mrs. Laz will skip over that last segment.

Lord knows I don’t know what she sees in me but she means the world to me. Happy anniversary from the land of dust and hairy women.

Good Bye To The Girl

2008-09-14T15:14:00.001-07:00

So the Girl is off on the biggest adventure of her life. About two weeks ago she got an offer to work part time with Make-A-Wish Foundation in San Francisco, a city she has wanted to call home for a very long time. Almost too quickly she and Mrs. Laz found her an apartment – the very first they looked at – returned back to San Diego, packed up her worldlies in a small rental truck and a day later the two drove back up to San Francisco to turn the Girl’s dream into a home.

Of course I am devastated that she is living 500 miles north and I will forever miss her being around the house. But the sad feelings are somewhat tempered by knowing she is so happy where she is. You can hear the contentment in her voice when we talk on the phone and with all her friends living just blocks from her I know she is not lonely (except I know she misses Nubs the cat and Spooner the dog – wish she missed us more, but what can you do?).

This move makes Mrs. Laz and me total Empty-Nesters since it is doubtful we’ll have a return of children anytime soon. Although kids tend to resemble boomerangs, it’s doubtful we’ll have ours back in the house as anything other than visitors. This is, naturally, natural and something all of our parents had to go through at some point. I wonder if my parents felt this divided sense of sorrow that I moved out but pride that I was striking out on my own. In the case of my parents, they hid their sadness by renting out my room within hours of my departure. “Be strong,” I remember telling them. “Who are you?” I remember them answering. It was good of them not to dwell, I think.

Now Mrs. Laz and I have the freedom to do as we wish; run around the house naked, having sex in every room, ect. I wonder if this admission will lesson the number of guests? Ah, so what, due to the ravages of age and my diminished good looks and charm the chance of the multi-room romp will be a rare event indeed.

Em, if you’re reading this, know that I will miss much about you. How we had our own language built on the poetic genius of modern classic films such as Anchorman, Old School, Zoolander and, of course, Step Brothers (I did like it). It will not be the same watching television without you, which means less anxiety about being in the room “first,” but also not having you around to share our thoughts on who will win American Idol and the Biggest Loser. It also means I will miss your never-ending patience for me as I asked, “Who’s that?” and “What’s going on?” in the middle of some inane MTV show that I would never figure out what was going on with a 10-page dissertation.

I am very happy and proud for you, Em, and hope so much that you find out what you want from this life and learn to adapt to your new environment, helping you grow from these experiences. I love you and will miss you, but am so happy you are on your way.

Sinking Low

2008-09-03T00:18:00.001-07:00

For a while I have been laboring on a post to explain the Georgia/Russia situation. At least as I see it, anyway. However, I am taking a brief break to speak out about something that has lowered the national discourse to a sad place. I wish I could say we have hit an all time low, but that is a bar set very, very low indeed.

There is little known about John McCain’s VP pick Sarah Palin. I heard her name mentioned a few months back as a potential selection but I soon forgot about it. My only opinion back then was that a woman could attract some democrats to McCain; particularly after so many were drawn to Hillary Clinton based on the fact that, as Palin said, she had poked 18 million holes in the Glass Ceiling.

Palin was introduced to the public (outside of Alaska and a few politically-obsessed shut-ins) last Friday. Her honeymoon with the left-wing blogosphere and the major media lasted approximately 30 seconds. A story was immediately put out that Palin’s fifth child, the one born with Down Syndrome, was not really her baby, but the baby of her own daughter. There was no explanation in the various blogs and follow-up news reports as to why someone would make up such a story. What would Palin have to gain from lying about something that has no consequence to anyone but her own family? It makes no sense to anyone with sense.

In order to calm the media that was predictably feeding at the left-wing blogs, the McCain campaign put out the statement that Palin’s daughter couldn’t have been the mother of the four-month own child as she was five months pregnant herself. And, the capper, her daughter was pregnant out of wedlock and only 17 years old. Wow, what a revelation! But what does it have to do with the overall Electoral process? Nothing revealing, at least nothing more revealing or interesting than the very likeable Juno, a movie this year about a 17-year-old getting pregnant and putting the baby up for adoption.

As long as a 17-year-old has been brought into the political discussion, let’s examine behavior from other 17-year-olds. Let’s particularly discuss what the people we are actually voting for were up to at that age – and not their young daughter. John McCain at 17 had just taken an oath to defend his country by enlisting in the U.S. Navy and embarking on a storied and difficult military career. What was Sen. Obama, an actual presidential candidate, doing at age 17? By his own admission in one of his two autobiographies, he was using marijuana and cocaine and explaining that his drug use was a way to get through tough times while he was young.

On the one hand, the media and some on the Left want to examine the choices made by the 17-year-old daughter of the vice presidential candidate, but seem less interested in illegal choices made by the democrat’s presidential candidate at the same age. And, of course, no mention on the choice McCain made at the same age. If it’s fair game to go after choices made by young people, then let’s have a broader discussion that contrasts the choices made before the actual candidates were adults.

To his credit, Obama has said the candidate’s children should be off limits to such scrutiny and certainly the media held to this standard while Chelsea Clinton was in the White House and her entire family life turned into a soap opera. Having said that, Obama should speak louder and more directly about the press coverage of Palin’s daughter and throw a little cold water on his supporters in the blogs. If he doesn’t, one has to assume he is letting them do his dirty work and damaging the life of a teenage girl to score cheap political points.

Power Of Positive Drinking

2008-08-27T14:48:00.000-07:00

If you know me, you know what's going on in my life, so please think positive thoughts. If you don't know what's going on, drink heavily for me.

The NY Times Chooses Treason Again

2008-08-25T23:20:00.000-07:00

Sad to say but the New York Times continues to engage in treason. Tonight they exposed the names of three Swiss atomic scientists who were working as CIA moles to uncover rogue nuclear programs in Libya and Iran. The very paper that endlessly scolded the Bush Administration for “outing” CIA employee Valerie Plame, revealed the names of the three scientists helping the U.S. in diminishing a nuclear threat. Now this father and two-son team has to worry about retribution from sources slightly more dangerous than sharp editorial writers from The Times.

The story began with a trial in Switzerland in which the three scientists were accused of dealing with nuclear terrorists. The scientists did not defend their actions by saying they were working for the CIA, keeping intact an agreement they reached. They were willing to pay the price for their work, believing it to be for the common good. The Times, however, found unnamed CIA sources to tell them about the secret dealings and exposing the scientists to danger and an end to their professional lives – oddly what The Times claimed happened to Ms. Plame.

It has been written in this space before, but it bears repeating: Anyone working at the CIA signs a security document ensuring they will not share classified information with anyone, least of all The NY Times. All employees are well aware of the stiff penalties for violating the security oath.

It is unknown what the reasons were for these unnamed sources to bring out this information, but let’s assess the damage done to our national and international security that goes beyond the personal troubles it causes for the Swiss scientists. It tells our enemies – and we have them, contrary to what The Times thinks – that we have planted moles in their innermost secret programs and suspicions will be raised about others working for the CIA, lessening the chances of information getting to our sources or putting them at outright risk. It will reduce the number of sources we can recruit because, let’s face it, the CIA has a leak problem, and who wants to have their names end up on the front page of The Times?

The exposing of these names to the world has far longer-term implications than the mentioning of Plame’s name to a reporter by Richard Armitage, a State Department official with little affinity for the President and his staff. Plame was not working undercover, contrary to the way the media played it, and took full advantage of her new infamy by posing for the cover of Vanity Fair Magazine and writing a book about her ordeal. Movies are even planned to enrich the lives of Plame and her know-nothing husband, Joe Wilson. I’m afraid these scientists will not be rewarded in such a way. I suspect they will need to spend their money continuing to defend themselves in a Swiss court and, if they have any money left over, have to spend it on body guards for the rest of their lives.

It’s difficult to comprehend the editorial judgment at The Times and it’s puzzling to understand why so many “agency sources” are willing to talk to its reporters. But, in the end, maybe it’s not too difficult to identify the motives of the people willing to continue to leak and report on our national security secrets. Maybe they just really don’t care one bit about security in the country and keeping us a bit safer.

Yes, I know the CIA doesn’t and hasn’t always behaved well as an institution and I am well aware that great challenges to our personal freedoms have been exchanged in the name of national security. However, the leaking of names does nothing to protect those freedoms and does nothing but damage lives and reduces our effectiveness to keep tabs on those who wish us ill. Shame on The New York Times and shame on the unnamed sources, may you get caught and have to answer for your own actions.

Da Da De Da Da Da Da Da Dede De De Dede Da Dede De Daaaa

2008-08-24T22:13:00.000-07:00

Like everyone, I have some thoughts on the recently completed Beijing Olympics. First, were you aware U.S. swimmer Michael Phelps won eight gold medals? Could NBC have mentioned it more often? Seriously, NBC owes Michael Phelps a commission for the number of viewers he kept glued to their telecast. Ratings dropped significantly after Phelps picked up his final gold medal, so it seemed NBC wanted to keep reliving the moment with constant playbacks of his dazzling victories.

Of course these Olympics were about many things, but those of us watching got to witness an incredible feat with Phelps, who was the biggest story by far. I remember the dominance of Mark Spitz in 1972. I was a swimmer back then and there was just no way to aptly describe watching one person win every event and win in world record time and what it did to my sport. I do agree with Spitz that had there been a 50 free event in 1972, he would have won 8 gold medals, but I think swimmers around the world have caught up to the U.S. and Phelps had a lot more competition than Spitz did 36 years ago, as the relays demonstrated.

Besides the story of Phelps, there is really only one other story that will linger much beyond this year and it is the story of China itself. Starting with the big question mark on the age of their female gymnasts to a glimpse into their strange society, the legacy of these Olympics may be as much about the host country as anything.

Very few people are buying the canard that their gymnasts met the minimum age requirement of 16. Of course there will be a “formal” investigation, but I doubt the International Olympic Committee will do much more than verify their government granted passports and declare the investigation closed. Just the same, we’ll all know the truth and the weakness of the IOC. This is to say nothing about the skill of China’s gymnasts; for the most part they deserved their medals. But rules are rules and this is far worse than one athlete getting ahead through performance enhancing substances, this took a government to raise these gymnasts.

Instead of a single athlete cheating – and cheating themselves in the long run – for China to pass these girls off as 16 took the complicity of the government and a lot of hiding of evidence. If the rules were broken and the Chinese government was part of it, this is as bad as the East German women in the 1972 Olympics when their swimmers were systematically given steroids for years. Most people don’t know the name Shirley Babashoff, but had it not been for the East German women all juiced up, she would have won five swimming gold medals in the 1976 Olympics and eight in her career. Do American gymnasts Shawn Johnson and Nastia Liukin feel like Babashoff did 32 years ago? Or does this only seem like sour grapes?

One of the more interesting interviews during the Games came when He Kexin, the center of the age controversy, was asked if her parents were in the stands. She looked puzzled by the question and then admitted she didn’t know where her parents were and couldn’t remember the last time she had seen them. This made the statement by the Chinese team that the parents of these girls were angry about the allegations more surreal. I don’t think these girls have a relationship with their parents, only a relationship with those on the team, the coaches and the sport itself. When someone asks what’s wrong with girls so young competing in the Games, you had to look no further than these robotic little girls looking like they had emerged from a hidden cave for the first time in years.

There was another minor story that did a good job of summing up what Chinese culture is like. In order to get the Games in the first place, China had to make a number of promises – nearly all broken. One was to allow people to speak out about the government itself. So the Chinese government established a process where people could apply for a permit to speak their minds in a designated area near the Olympic Village. Strangely, nobody spoke out. However, it was reported that there were two women in their seventies who applied to protest about their forced eviction from their homes in 2001. They applied for a permit at the Beijing Public Security Bureau and shortly thereafter were informed they had received a one-year sentence for “disturbing the public order” by China’s “Re-education Through Labor Commission.” So I guess speaking out in China is, on the surface, OK as long as you’re willing to be re-educated afterwards.

Lost in all the coverage of Phelps, gymnastics and women playing volleyball in bikinis were many stories of athletes living up to their expectations and athletes floundering under the spotlight. The American women and men’s 400 meter relays were both disqualified for dropping the baton, looking almost as if they had never practiced the exchange before. But Usain Bolt, who ran to three world records in the 100 meters, 200 meters and 400 relay, went beyond the hype. He was in a league by himself, winning each individual race by an embarrassing distance. Sure he was a goofball, but he’s still the fastest man on earth and deserved to be a bit cocky and clown-around. (There were some in our household who wondered if there were faster people inside the earth, but no matter).

The men’s water polo team, only briefly making it on NBC’s inconsistent coverage, took home a silver medal despite coming into the Games as only the 9th ranked team. They defeated perennial powerhouse teams such as Serbia, Italy and Croatia and were tied with eventual gold medal winner Hungary 9-9 before faltering in the final quarter and losing 14-10. The NBA is back too, winning the gold medal after throwing out groups of undisciplined teammates who found little time for practice. The gold medal match was much closer than expected, but in the end, the U.S. proved its dominance in the sport (but it’s getting much closer).

Women’s softball took only a silver medal after outscoring their opponents 53-1 and then losing 3-1 to Japan in the gold medal round. It was supposed to be the fourth straight gold medal for the U.S. and, ironically, the American women’s dominance of the sport was the reason the IOC had voted to end it following this Olympics. The IOC will vote on re-instating the sport in 2009, leaving conspiratorial thinkers to wonder if they threw the game to get the sport back in.

The U.S. men winning the volleyball gold medal over Brazil was a great story inside a horrific one. Before the Games began, the coach of the team’s mother-in-law and father-in-law were stabbed by a deranged individual, his father-in-law dying from the attack. When his team won the gold medal, the coach was so emotional he had to find a private place under the stands to let it all out. I am sure the victory was bittersweet.

There were athletes and coaches who exceed expectations – Jason Lezak’s amazing final leg to get Phelps a gold medal in the 4X100 free relay and Stephanie Brown-Trafton surprising the world by winning the women’s discus, and there were those who behaved shamefully – the coach of pole vault silver medalist Jennifer Stuczynski telling her on live TV that she, essentially, stunk, and Swedish wrestler Ara Abrahamian tossing his bronze medal and walking off the podium in protest at the judging in his semi-final match.

Beijing may have been the biggest winner (beside NBC and Phelps) as it looked all polished up and ready for the world to get a glimpse behind the Bamboo Curtain. The facilities were remarkable and the opening and final ceremonies were incredible and looked like something that can only be done with 1.3 billion people. Maybe it’s only ironic that China’s national anthem is titled March of the Volunteers. While it’s doubtful anyone volunteers to march, it did appear the Chinese people were ready to put on a showcase for their emerging country and they did it with volume and, perhaps, a little volunteerism.

Figuring Out Our Energy Policy

2008-08-21T23:07:00.000-07:00

So I figured out America's oil policy. It's a long-term policy but our grandchildren or their children will reap all the rewards.

By making sure we don't pump oil in the U.S. and purchase all our oil from other countries instead, we will eventually run all of them out of oil. When this occurs years down the road, we'll be the only country left standing with oil. Then the Arabs and Russians and Venezuelans will have to buy their oil from us. We'll be able to to sell it to them for $500 per barrel or whatever price we want. Someday all Americans will be billionaires and acquire even more obnoxious habits like current oil barons. We'll all be crude because of crude!

There may be only one problem with this theory -- assuming, as I believe, it is official policy. When the other countries finally run out of oil, there may no longer be a need for oil as other energy alternatives may be developed. To stop this from happening, we must buy and bury all alternative energy proposals and we can never, and I mean never, drill for oil for the rest of this century.

I'm pretty sure I'm right on this.

I Run 5,000,000 Millimeters Uphill!

2008-08-17T20:41:00.000-07:00

It’s really all Sladed’s fault. He has been such a sports machine that he’s shamed me into getting off my butt and pushing myself athletically. He’s made me want to try to keep up and got my competitive juices flowing. It’s been a long time since I did anything requiring even a remote amount of athletic skill, so it has been feeling right to something about it.

About 10 days ago I returned to the office from an extended trip in which I did very little exercise and snuck too many Kit Kat bars out of the hotel vending machine. Sladed told me there was a 5K run in Solana Beach and, like an idiot not wanting to be shown up by the Adonis-legged Sladed, I said, “sure, I’ll run in that.” I had run three miles – almost a 5K – on a treadmill before so I thought I could do it and not totally embarrass myself.

Then Ber tells me she is running the America’s Finest City half marathon and told me there was also a 5K race as well. She demanded I run in the AFC 5K because, well, she’s a princess and the Ber always gets what she wants, so I signed up for the AFC 5K. Of course the Ber’s race was a 6:45 a.m. start and Sladed’s was at 9:15 a.m. This combined two things I hate: getting up early and getting up early to exercise.

Anyway, I was secretly hoping something would happen that would prevent me from running, like the loss of a limb or painful dental surgery. A few days after signing up, I had an abruptly-scheduled trip to Moscow that would not return me in time to run the event so it looked like I was out of the race. Too bad. But, just as quickly, my trip was called off and I was back in the run again.

Unfortunately my only additional training was running one practice 5K and a two mile run around my neighborhood a few days before the race. I certainly knew that I could do a run/walk and finish the race, but I wanted to do the best I could under my current physical conditioning – somewhere between critical and cadaver.

I woke up at 5:30 to get to the race start, but listened to Mrs. Laz’s advice in pinning my bib number on my back, slowing down my important mental prep time. Of course it was wrong. As all great runners know it goes on the front. I had to make a quick adjustment after we saw 5,000 runners with their bib number pinned on their front. That error in lost time and concentration probably added five minutes to my race time.

At the start of the race, they require that only those given a bib number 1-150 be at the start and everyone else should start at their leisure. You're given a little computer chip that fits in your shoe and marks the time you begin the race and when you finish, so you could literally leave 20 minutes after the official start and it will not affect your actual running time. I started about two minutes after the others had left and wish I didn’t. I got caught up in those who planned to walk the 5k and had to wind my way around people walking and chatting and basically blocking access to the course. It would have been better for me to have left a minute earlier or five minutes later, but it’s something I will learn for next time.

Some key things about this race and the course: the course is all uphill. I know that may sound impossible, but it’s true. You have to run to a peak of about 6,000 feet above sea level and then deal with the altitude. Then you run up a similar mountain peak and find yourself at 12,000 feet with no oxygen tanks! To get back down to sea level, there is no gradual decline. You have to chip away at the glacier and jump from huge heights before rolling down sheer cliffs, avoiding death as best you can. It may be the toughest course in the world!

Needless to say I didn’t win, in part to Mrs. Laz’s error and underestimating the heights of the mountain peaks in Balboa Park. Perhaps my lack of training, physical conditioning, extra weight and non-athletic running style played a small roll.

I was in what most analysts would call the “chase group,” some 15-19 minutes behind the "winners." We were a hearty bunch of walkers, parents pushing strollers, the elderly, kids under 10, the overweight and one homeless guy, although I think he joined the race when he heard the rattle of change in the pocket of the runner in front of me. We were a proud and tight-knit group, striving mightily to the finish line.

I admit I was tired throughout the race, but when I turned the final corner and could see the Hall of Champions (aka, the “Bird’s Nest") where once a portrait of Sladed hung on the wall, I knew I was near the end. Since it was my first official 5K, I did my personal best of 34 minutes, 34 seconds, which works out to an 11:08 mile. I finished 817th out of 1,580 and came in 17th in my 50-54 age group (out of 26).

About an hour and a half later (and ten miles longer) The Ber came running by to finish her half marathon and all of us; Mrs. Laz, The Boy, The Girl and I, were all able to cheer for her completing her first run at that distance.

I was happy to be out running and competing and would like to run more, but I am afraid joining Ber in the half marathon will be long way down the road if it ever happens. My immediate goal is to run another, and decidedly more flat, 5K and see how I do and, hopefully, work my way up to a 10K. The ravages of age and general laziness will dictate if I ever double up on today’s run.

Twain Quote

2008-08-02T22:14:00.001-07:00

All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence, and then success is sure.

— Mark Twain

I think I have been in a few businesses that go by this doctrine. The quote kind of resonated when I read it.

I Want To Be On Top

2008-07-22T22:07:00.001-07:00

I was thinking that the Ol' Lament is in need of a makeover. Perhaps feeling the need to do this has been motivated in part by being left in the dust by a "competitor's" blog site. And yes, he wrote something very touching and it meant something to all that know him, but blogging is a tough business (without pay) and I have a bit of a competitive streak in me (in case you haven't noticed).

So I am taking suggestions from my readers about new colors, new features, the kinds of posts you'd like to see more of and posts you'd like to see less of. Do you want more photos? More photos of me in a fish net top? How about new and improved links? Whatever your comments, let me know so my blog can remain on top of that other guy I won't name whose name begins with Sladed.

Yes, usually I complain that his blog doesn't get the comments and attention it deserves, but we're in a ratings' war and I need to win! And, while noting the need for other blogs to get the recognition for putting out good stuff, please check out The Boy's blog and post some comments. You may not agree with all that he writes about, but he makes you think. Meanwhile, I am aware The Girl is creating her own blog and I look forward to her first post and will let you know when that occurs.

Finally, I think Lazlo's Lament needs a new name. To be honest, I came up with that name in about 30 seconds and didn't know I would be stuck with it for life or at least for the three years it's be out there. Has it been three years? What have I been doing with my life? So here is an idea for a new name; see what you think: how about Laz's Blah Blah Blog or just the Blah Blah Blog? Thoughts and comments? Let's see if we can get more than 26. Ha, that would be ironic, wouldn't it?

Thinking About Getting Away To NZ Again

2008-07-09T23:16:00.000-07:00

It can really be a pain in the ass to pay attention these days. If ignorance is bliss, give me a lobotomy or make me watch hours of MTV programming.

While most of the social and political nausea happens in the U.S., this week’s loony award goes to the British Prime Minister. While Gordon Brown was attending the G-8 Summit, he attempted to shame the world to reduce the "unnecessary demand" for food and called on British families to cut back on their wasteful use of food. A few hours later, he and his G-8 brethren were served 24 different dishes during his first day at the summit. No wonder his approval rating in England is at 17 percent. Hopefully the Brits can still eat their cake.

On this side of the pond, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid was making me sick by urging Americans to stop using coal and oil. Reid made the following rant in front of television cameras: “Coal makes us sick, oil makes us sick, it’s global warming, it’s ruining our country and ruining our world” and “we’ve got to stop using fossil fuels.” All I can say to the dem’s fearless leader: you first Harry. Turn off your office lights, get out of your chauffeured Towne Car and buy a bicycle and ride to work, turn off your computers, toss out your refrigerator, your microwave, your oven, your television, your Blackberry, your washer and dryer and, especially, shut off your microphone. See how well you live without electricity. Lead by example and maybe we’ll follow. Maybe.

And if we're into this whole leading by example thing, why don't we have wealthy congressional leaders who believe wealthy Americans don't pay enough in taxes start paying more of their own money in taxes? C'mon Senator Kennedy, nothing in the tax code says you can't pay more than you owe. Toss in a few million more for America's downtrodden.

Speaking of global warming, did anyone see China and India flipping the bird to the rest of us on reducing carbon emissions? Back at the G-8 Summit, there was a lot of hand-wringing on global warming between rounds of food tasting (Organic, no doubt). While the most developed countries – Germany, UK, France, the US, among others – were busy surrendering their economies at the altar of climate change, India and China were throwing cold water on limiting greenhouse gases by rejecting the G-8’s curbs on carbon emissions. That’s bad news for the acolytes of global warming, but here’s a good point: if every person living in China and India threw some cold water on anything, wouldn’t that start another Ice Age?

How can the developed world that has spent so much time, money and energy cleaning up its polluted rivers and air (remember LA in the Sixties?) unilaterally give up human progress and allow 25 percent of the earth’s population to pollute full speed ahead? Is it just me or do global warming alarmists just believe climate change happens over the U.S. and other developed countries, sparing the developing world? Do only carbon emissions originating in the developed world shrink the polar caps, or is it possible that something happening in China and India has an impact? Of course, the bigger joke is the polar caps have as much ice today as they did 100 years ago. Doubters can look that up if they want.

Of course the price of oil is grabbing all the headlines these days. What burns my cookies to a crisp is the reason oil prices have gone up didn’t just happen yesterday. If you believe in the mystery of supply and demand, you would note the growing economies of India, China and Southeast Asia and surmise it would have an impact on oil usage. If you were paying attention and really focused, you might notice that oil producing countries are in volatile regions of the world such as the Middle East where even the camels can’t get along. You may even note that our military adventurism might stir up a bit of dust and create uncertainty in the oil markets.

So if all of these things were occurring over the past few decades, where were our elected officials on this? We actually elect these people to pay attention to these kinds of details so we can work the first six months of the year to pay for the government they are supposed to be running. Why didn’t someone in Congress see this coming and have committees created, reports written and solutions promoted? It seems all they did was make sure they had a scapegoat at the ready.

We’re being told now that there is no point in drilling anywhere because new wells won’t produce oil for 7-10 years. Are they trying to tell us we won’t need oil in 7-10 years? What would have happened if Members read the tea leaves better and drilled 7-10 years ago?

The best idea on oil I’ve head lately is from Newt Gringrich, who I am beginning to believe should be running the country right now. Check out his American Solutions website and read what an intelligent leader comes up with when he doesn’t have to please various voting blocs.

One of Newt’s ideas is to sell half of the U.S. Strategic Petroleum Reserve at current market prices. That would dump 350 million barrels of oil on the market at $140 per barrel.

If my calculator can correctly handle numbers this large, a sale of 350 million barrels would bring in the tidy sum of $49 billion. Newt believes this amount of oil suddenly dumped on the market would drop oil prices by $50 per barrel and anger a few sheiks and despots (and to keep the dems happy, cause a few speculators to lose their shirts).

Newt’s idea doesn’t end with a simple sale. Once oil drops down to $90 per barrel, he says buy it all back, rake in the savings and re-fill the petroleum reserve. That would turn a profit of $17.5 billion which could be used to spend on research for alternative energy programs. If the price of oil began to inch up later on, we’d only have to toss out the notion of dumping our reserve on the market again to keep OPEC and others honest. Leave it up to capitalism to find a cure for …. well … capitalism.

But if all this is getting you down, watch this funny parody on the panic over oil.

The Best Part Was "Everything"

2008-07-02T11:15:00.000-07:00

So the kids got hitched and it was indescribable to see your son getting married – but I will try to describe it anyway.

First, we couldn’t have asked for better weather when you’re standing on the beach at sunset in the midst of the “June Gloom” season. The sun had been obscured by clouds – no Pink Floyd references, Sladed – for perhaps the previous (and subsequent) 10-12 days. But not on June 30. It was perfect; no clouds, a gentle breeze, a bright blue ocean, and a beautiful setting sun. Just perfection for an outdoor, beach wedding. The Boy decided on a high bluff above the beach, which had a wonderful view of the ocean below. It had been a location previously scouted and one the bride and groom thought would be the best place.

The ceremony was attended by just the Ber’s parents, the Mrs. and I and the Girl. The women folk started getting ready at 10 a.m. while the guys got ready about 5:45 p.m. Not sure what this says about the sexes. When the women arrived in the limo driven by Wrong-Way Warren, they all looked like they had been getting ready for the previous nine hours, which is to say they all looked marvelous. The Ber looked beautiful in her sleek wedding dress; the work of many hands, but finished to perfection. The Boy looked dashing in an off-white linen suit and white shirt.

The reverend did a very nice job of keeping the vows simple and fitting the personalities of the bride and groom. Daisy, the photographer, climbed lamp posts, hung off of cliffs and rolled around on the ground to get perfect photos – we think.

The kids did their repeating after the reverend, each parent gave away their child and a good smooch sealed the deal. This was followed by more trapeze work by Daisy for additional photos as the sun set.

After the wedding ceremony and with the two officially married, it was back into the limo with Wrong-Way Warren and off to the Four Seasons Hotel where there was a private room arranged with a private balcony area for Champagne toasting and tasty hors d'oeuvres. The dinner menu was created just for the couple and our group and had their names on it and the words “Just Meant to Be,” the wedding slogan.

The food was incredible, on nobody’s diet and so rich that I think we all groaned when they brought the unlawfully-good tasting wedding cake. Naturally I, along with the others, ate through the pain. While many stomachs yummed through the meal, the conversation was more like a merged family sitting around a big dining room table and was so nice and pleasant. We each had a little to say about the couple, including me after the censors stepped in and had their thumbs on the 7-second button. The dinner couldn’t have been better or more relaxing and it was superbly put together by Ronald the Efficient Austrian following specific orders delivered by the Girl (perhaps the perfect wedding or corporate merger should happen between these two). What seemed simple to us was well planned by the Girl to the desires of the bride and groom. By 10:30 the adorable couple was sent off to a room and spa day at the La Costa Resort and my guess was there was a lot of pay-for-view movie watching (I'm guessing something with Mathew McConaughey and Kate Hudson) and then off to bed.

It was such a great family event and everyone helped to make it a special day for the Boy and the Ber, who now must spell her last name as a matter of course just for marrying into our family. Special kudos goes out to the Girl for taking her Maid Of Honor responsibilities to a professional level and to Alison as part of Team Bride. Of course none of it would have been as great had we not been able to share it with Dan and Jo Jo and me with my lovely bride. As the Ber said when asked what was the best part, simply announced, “Everything.” I couldn’t agree more.

Bad Taste

2008-06-27T21:12:00.000-07:00

So this is what now passes for journalistic excellence. This “cartoon ,” drawn by Lee Judge of the Kansas City Star, a formally well-respected newspaper, is in such poor taste that it is amazing it made it to print. While the media frets about what Don Imus meant about two-bit loser Pac Man Jones, this special editorial comment slips by all of them.

There can be no mistake in the cartoonist’s message: if God was being fair, Rush Limbaugh would have died of a sudden heart attack instead of Tim Russert.

Why is it such fashion to attack right-wing pundits with such elementary school taunts? It seems if someone wants to say something about a conservative, they can get away with whatever they want. Say something like this about a liberal and wait for the riots to start.

When Al Franken wrote a book bemoaning Limbaugh, he entitled it “Rush Limbaugh Is a Big Fat Idiot.” Limbaugh has 20 million listeners and Franken couldn’t keep his show on the air and ended up owing a huge amount in back payroll taxes to his employees. Really now, who’s the idiot?

Politics and punditry are messy affairs, but it sure would be nice if the discourse could at least reach junior high school level. Just disgraceful.

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

2008-06-24T22:30:00.000-07:00

The democrats, especially those damned democrats, think the American public is stupid. And they’re betting on the fact they’re correct in their assessment.

Please follow their logic on energy policy. Their approach to solving our current, but neither first nor last, energy crisis is to do the following:

1. Place a “windfall” profits tax on oil companies that are mostly foreign now.
2. Go after “speculators” who invest their money in oil futures.
3. Encourage greater use of windmills and solar energy.
4. Block all drilling for oil in the U.S. and keep our nuke plants shut down.

The windfall profits tax they are peddling to America is the same that was peddled by Jimmy Carter in 1976 when gas prices were *gasp* surging past $1.00 per gallon. We were assured then, and we are now, that these taxes would not be passed along to the consumer. Now, what corporation does not pass all their costs, including taxes, on to the consumers? If you believe this, I have a Social Security “Lock Box” I’d like to sell you.

The only windfall that will occur in the passage of this shameless tax is to the government which is raking in a windfall off the doubling of the price at the pump. I can’t see how taxing, or even “punishing,” the oil companies does anything to alleviate the cost of filling up our cars even if the oil company executives take a vacation from their corporate responsibilities and eat the tax. But this move by democrats is intended for the public to feel better about getting even with those billion dollar evil corporations that are producing something we are ridiculously addicted too, and not to actually do anything to fix the problem. Now, do you feel better or just stupid?

After they have taxed us, err…. I mean the oil companies, they want to go after the heartless “speculators,” as they are called. An oil speculator is just like any other investor who risks their money betting which way the market will fluctuate. This is done for all sorts of commodities including just about everything we eat. Some days these investors win and some days they loose.

Those who are betting on oil prices to rise have been winning lately because they can read the newspapers and they realize that Washington is paralyzed. If nothing changes and demand continues for oil as does the unrest in the Middle East, they believe the price of oil will go up. If they thought politicians in Washington were acting as grown-ups, they may begin to speculate that the price will go down. But they have nothing to base that assumption on, so they will continue to bet on higher oil costs.

The democrats demeaning the speculators and offering really no solution to the crisis is feeding the speculation that prices will rise. I wonder if democrats actually are aware of their role in this and have investments in oil futures or if they area really that stupid. The jury is out.

Speculators exist across the board. They are betting gold will rise, they bet corn and sugar beets would rise when Congress placed mandates on ethanol mixes and even one of the democrats’ big heroes, George Soros, made nearly $1 billion speculating that the price of the Pound would drop and then did all he could to talk down the currency.

I’m not sure what they have planned for the speculators, but I’m speculating it will do nothing to address our long or short term energy problem. However, they area certainly expecting you to believe meting out punishment to investors will make you feel better.

Which brings us to their brilliant idea of getting more of our energy from windmills and solar. Only people who gave us ethanol and the ensuing food shortages and food riots could expect us to believe this is a logical way to replace fossil fuels. Based on the Department of Energy’s own statistics, we get less than 2 percent of our electricity from solar and wind and, mind you, none of this moves our cars around.

It would be wonderful to be able to get our energy from such things, but the technology is not where it needs to be to make this realistic. It would be great to have more funding for alternative fuels and energy and I fault Bush and his predecessors for doing absolutely nothing to encourage development of other reliable sources. We’re the most technologically advanced society but we seem to be sitting on our thumbs when it comes to real and practical innovation. For now, solar and wind only produce a needed counterbalance to the hot air coming our way from Washington and you’d have to be tilting at your own windmills to believe it will save us.

Finally, the issue of drilling and nukes. Yeah, I know, the caribou will be pissed. I was a lot more worried about how the caribou felt when gas was at $2 per gallon, but I am sufficiently bothered now that I don’t care what the caribou think. Round them all up and put them in a caribou show at Sea World, I don’t care, but let them know we’re moving into the neighborhood and we’re bringing unsightly drills.

We hear all the debate that places like ANWR won’t produce a drop of oil for 10 years or it won’t produce enough to make a difference. Well, that’s a great way to look at thing, isn’t it? In 10 years when gas and home heating are 10 times what they are now, will we still be saying we can’t drill for oil in ANWR or in the Gulf because it’s 10 years away? Maybe if we had begun drilling 10 years ago, we wouldn’t be having this crisis and I wouldn’t be up so late writing this shrill post.

If you are an environmentalist, please explain this to me: Why is it OK for every other country to be drilling for oil all over the world and it’s not OK for America to be doing the same? I really don’t see the outrage when they decide to drill in Brazil (in the Rain Forest, no less), off the coast of Viet Nam, all over the artic in Russia and Scandinavia, and even off the coast of Cuba. All this means is that we have to get all our oil from places that don’t much care for us and it has to be delivered to us on ships that have a lot more problems with spills than do the pipelines – pipeline technology, by the way, that American companies have perfected for foreign oil companies so that the current spill rate is non-existent.

As long as I have you environmentalists handy, what’s the deal with the nukes? It’s clean energy, especially when compared to coal, and it’s cheap. France does it, producing 85 percent of its electricity from nuclear plants, and you enviros love the French. Frankly the only problem I see with investing in nuclear fuel is that we haven’t graduated a nuclear engineer capable of running a plant in 10 years because there was no job market. We’ll have to import our engineers from France and our immigration problem is bad enough.

While I am aware that hundreds of republicans have done nothing to solve our energy crisis, including the current occupant of the White House, I still have to hand it to the democrats to come up with the least effective ways to deal with the problem. The trouble is, they, along with their supporters in the environmental movement, have been shoveling this crap at us since, well since gas prices were at 50 cent per gallon, and we’re living in a country they think is gullible enough to still believe them. And maybe they’re right, judging from polls. However, I think their rhetoric becomes more difficult to accept when oil costs are driving our airlines out of business, killing us at the super market and hurting those who can least afford to pay double for getting to work each day. I think it’s time to find a new movement for you environmentalists to get behind and let’s get our hands dirty digging for buried dinosaur juice.

June 13

2008-06-13T22:54:00.000-07:00

Well The Boy wrote about (click here to visit his blog and see what he wrote) what I didn't seem able to write about this day. Three years ago today my brother died and a part of me died with him. (I get annoyed when people say they "lost" someone. What, did they misplace him?). Yeah, I am surviving and moving on and enjoying my life and my family, but it would sure be better with him in our lives and still around us.

Thanks to The Boy for writing how we all feel and for his touching reminder of who his uncle was and what he meant and continues to mean to all of us. He was, in fact, a warrior prince and one of these days we need to build a statue.

Will Prozac Help This Depression?

2008-06-08T23:48:00.000-07:00

As we get near an election, all news about the incumbent party is spun as bad news by the party out of power. Wars get deadlier, global warming gets hotter, government spending is higher and the economy becomes the worst of a generation. I can generally ignore the pre-election blather and write it off to campaign worms living on four hours of sleep, cigarettes and vitamin C. But I am not so sure about the last one; are we in fact on the verge of an economic collapse or just in another normal up/down business cycle? Since I could only read a few pages of Samuelson before wanting to poke my eyes out, I flunked Econ 1 so it’s difficult for those of us who don’t know the difference between classical, neo-classical, Austrian School or Keynesian theories of economics to know if we’re, basically, screwed.

To confess, I have been thinking more about The Great Depression lately because I have been re-reading The Razor’s Edge. (An interesting sidebar to the novel: I saw the Bill Murray Razor’s Edge before Tyrone Power’s Razor’s Edge before reading the W. Somerset Maugham novel that each movie was based on. While I am certain I would draw the wrath of literary and film critics alike, I preferred the Bill Murray version. Or at least it stuck with me because I saw it first.) At any rate, the novel uses The Great Depression as a backdrop to the excess of America during the Roaring Twenties and how it was generally believed at the time that the great American engine could never be broken.

There are some frightening similarities to The Great Depression and today, most notably the rise in personal debt due to low interest rates and the loss of manufacturing jobs. I know today’s economy is global and far more complex than it was 80 years ago, but it seems to me the current credit crunch that is taking down banks and lending institutions coupled with odd monetary policy could sink a financial ship that is already listing.

Rather than be a downer, I am hoping there are those out there who know how this financial stuff works and can put my mind at ease. But, give me something that makes sound logic and is easy for the untrained mind to understand, because I have to admit, I am a bit nervous that all that is out there are reasonable differences based on economic theory.

Admittedly there is a part of me that wants to sell our house, collect all our money and invest in gold, rent a house in a safe and inexpensive small town and ride it out. Most Realtors, stock brokers and other heretics will tell you that home and stock values have their ups and downs and the best investor is the patient investor. Thank goodness my shirt was lost during the stock market bubble, but what if my home value drops in half and it takes the rest of my working life before it works its way back to the current market value? Wouldn’t we be wiser with cash than equity in this situation?

Do we really have to wait for John McCain to get elected and take us to a war with Iran before we would see an economic upswing, or will our future leaders find a prescription to what ails us economically? Put in that context, does anyone out there have confidence that Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid and Obama/McCain will keep us from falling over the cliff? Hell, none of them has ever held a real job, little alone run an economy. Or do we trust today’s captains of industry – business leaders who gave us Enron, World Com and oil at $138 per barrel – to keep the current sputtering economic engine running? Seems to me we’re faced with a Morton’s Fork (look that one up).

Well, don’t just sit there anxiously agreeing with me with your diapers in need of a change, give me some good advice on what to do; what we all should do. I know that the run on the banks during The Great Depression had to do with confidence in the economy and people behaving as sheep, but, as they say down on the farm, the sheep are nervous.

About Love and Other Good Things

2008-06-04T21:55:00.000-07:00

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. -- Marcel Proust

There is something I haven’t written about yet, but it is constantly on my mind. The reason I haven’t written about this subject – one that is very meaningful to me – has nothing to do with writer’s cramp or lack of interest. Rather, it is an issue with such a profound effect on my family and me that I want to make sure I put the right mix of words together because anything less just wouldn’t suit the circumstance.

As most of you know, my son is marrying the lovely Amber on June 30 in a quiet ceremony at sunset on a beautiful stretch of beach in Carlsbad. Driving around today in a misty rain and looking up at clouds that look more full and menacing than they really were, I was struck with the thought that we are in the midst of June Gloom in San Diego. Naturally this led me to the glass-half-empty thought that the weather will not cooperate to make their day more beautiful.

Just as I was having these thoughts, and having them on a spot of the freeway that just happened to be near the exact area where they plan to exchange vows, two weak clouds separated at just the right moment and a beam of stunning white sunshine burst through. And so now I know, San Diego will do its duty and provide a perfect backdrop for a perfect day in the life of my family and in Amber’s family. Aside from our house looking like a dress shop and having several thousand dollars worth of silk and taffeta charged to various credit cards and ready for return, it has been a huge honor to be part of the engagement and the wedding plans. The Boy came to me first to discuss the best way to go about finding and affording the perfect engagement ring. I took it as a hint that something was brewing.

Because I can’t keep any news, good or bad, to myself, I told Mrs. Laz who told The Girl who instantly went looking online for rings. She took it a step further the next day and went ring shopping on her own all over town. Within hours, she had found what she thought was a ring that suited Amber and had negotiated the price down to an acceptable range. She took a photograph of it and e-mailed it to The Boy who had to admit it was exactly what he was looking for and was sure it would be what Amber would want.

Only The Boy knows what was going on in his head, but what began as a finance and search query became a purchase so quickly that none of us know if he was just beginning to do one of his typical thoughtful research projects but got caught up by his family members so excited that they all wanted him to pop the question that afternoon. One thing I can report is when he and The Girl met me for breakfast and he opened a magnificent wood box to show me the ring, I have never seen such a proud and happy look on his face. I think he wanted to pop the question that afternoon, too.

He waited until he was able to do it his way and, needless to say, she said “yes.”

Our whole family could not be more happy that we will be welcoming Amber into our lives and even get the bonus of Dan and Jo-Jo, our soon-to-be in-laws. Amber lights up any room the moment she enters, is full of energy – the good kind of kinetic and infectious energy – and is full of love that she is so generous with to every member of our extended family and our friends. If I was ever going to do an evil genius imitation and draw up plans for a perfect partner for The Boy, she would look just like Amber.

I couldn’t be happier for both of them and count my blessings that the Cosmos sent such a perfect person into our lives. Live long, always stay in love and be well you two!

I'm 16 Inches Smaller!

2008-05-31T16:01:00.000-07:00

I've been on a diet for two weeks and all I've lost is two weeks. – Totie Fields

Let me first start by pointing out that I am still fat. But with a little hard work over the past six weeks, I am a little less fat and I am pretty happy with that.

My fitness club offered a six-week total body makeover class that met twice each week and offered training tips and nutritional information and meal suggestions. It was run by a woman named Jessica and, for the moment, I would like thank her for changing so many poor habits and giving me a much-needed nudge to better health. I use the “for the moment” part in the last sentence as a mere qualifier because anyone who knows me knows I have difficulty sustaining things. The proof is in my weight which has fluctuated wildly over the past 10-15 years.

Having made that qualifier, I should also tell you that I view the recent change in my eating and exercise regime as something that needs to be life-changing or I won’t have as much of a life to change later on. A number of my diet and exercise pushes have seemed easier than this one and I suspect the ravages of age and poor health has caught up to me and has made this last go-round, particularly the additional exercise, more difficult. In other words, I view this as something of a last stand to better my health and I really need to stick with it this time.

During the course we were given increasingly more difficult workouts and had our menu diaries reviewed by Jessica. Fortunately Mrs. Laz read Jessica’s menus so I just had to ask her what to eat. If only I could have gotten her to do the workouts for me I would be a lot less sore today.

The offshoot of the program is that I came in second place in my group with 14 pounds lost in the six weeks. My own scale had me losing more like 18 pounds but I’ll take an official 14 pounds in such a short time any day of the week. My body fat dropped from 25.7 percent to 21.3 percent and I lost a total of 16 inches off of various parts of my body (no, not there). The number of inches lost was the most in the group of about 20 participants and included four inches off my waist.

I think I could have lost more during the six weeks because I was in Latin America for one week and took two separate trips to Ohio so I missed five of the 12 meetings. I am continuing on with keeping a good log of my diet and exercising every day (or nearly every day). I am getting great encouragement from my family and from Sladed who even came to cheer me on for my final weigh-in; which was nice, but ultimately his cheering on was going to have no affect on the outcome. However I did get to "out" him while he was there. One thing is clear, it’s great to know so many people are pulling for me.

I would post the before and after photos except the after photo still has a little more of me than I am willing to share – especially if a certain Diane happens to take a look at this blog and learns a startling truth that could cause my chances with her to drop.

Hey!

2008-05-31T00:26:00.001-07:00

This is my two-hundreth post. Of course it took much longer to reach my second 100 posts than it did my first 100 posts, but perhaps I can say the quality of the posts have improved (sans this one). Of course none of this matters because of my lack of respect for round numbers. But, for those who like zeros, maybe this is interesting...

Obama's Foreign Policy Naiveté

2008-05-31T00:24:00.000-07:00

I took a good deal of grief from two intelligent people over President Bush’s comments about “appeasement” as a dig directed, some think, at Senator Obama’s rather naïve view of meeting with anti-American world leaders with no preconditions. Upon having the time I did my research so I could at least match their intellect with facts. So, to The Boy and Reid-Doh, eat my shorts!

While the Bush comment was likely directed at former President Carter, members of Congress and also Obama, it was Obama who squealed the loudest, likely as an opportunity to showcase his proposed “engagement” dance with any and all despots should he be elected president. By way of predicting the success of his policy, he answered President Bush’s challenge by saying President Kennedy had met with Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev in Vienna in 1961 without preconditions.

Kennedy did indeed meet with Khrushchev and it directly led to the building of the Berlin Wall and the Cuban missile crisis, nearly causing World War III with nukes. Even Kennedy admitted he was out of his depth in the meeting and worried that he had performed so weakly that it gave the Soviets carte blanche to make mischief around the world. When the Wall went up a few months later, dividing Berlin for 27 years, Kennedy remarked that a “wall was better than a war.” Not exactly a Lincoln at Gettysburg moment.

At the meeting in Vienna, Khrushchev used the opportunity of a face-to-face meeting to show case the growing strength of the Soviet Union for both domestic and international consumption and to serve as a warning to Kennedy that his country could not be intimidated. Khrushchev’s popularity at home soared and many unaligned countries took notice of a weaker appearing America. It ended up being a huge propaganda victory for Khrushchev and demonstrated that giving an equal stage to problematic world leaders is what concerns Bush as it had previous presidents. It should also concern Obama, but he has painted himself in a corner by his pledge that was made on the spur of the moment during a debate.

Kennedy too should have known better to meet with Khrushchev since his Harvard thesis was entitled “Appeasement at Munich,” a reference to Neville Chamberlain’s ill-advised meeting with Hitler and his declaration of “peace in our time.” Kennedy was warned by old diplomatic hands George Keenan and Dean Rusk that it was a mistake to meet with the Soviet leader without pre-arranged accommodations and a clear strategy of what such a summit would achieve. Ignoring the advice, Kennedy believed his personal charm, on a par with Obama, was enough to win the day. But he was sadly mistaken and spent his remaining presidency trying to show latent strength to the Soviets just to break even following the Wall and missile threat in Cuba.

If Obama wants to challenge the approach of all past presidents – except Kennedy – in how to deal with those who wish us ill, he’ll have to rely on more than his charisma. As good as it sounds to solve all of our problems with nice talk, the purpose of such a meeting would be to negotiate in advance and have each party hope to get something out of such a meeting. It’s not as if Bush and other world leaders haven’t offered plenty of incentives to Iran and North Korea to stop their advanced weapons planning. But if Obama traveled to Tehran or Pyongyang offering nothing more than has been offered and expecting nothing more than talk talk, what would be the point? We’d likely just end up giving a huge propaganda victory to our adversaries who, despite Obama’s rhetorical oratory ability, will still be our adversaries when he steps back on Air Force One and heads home.

If Barack Obama wants to follow in Kennedy's footsteps, he should heed the lesson that Kennedy learned in his first year in office: sometimes there is good reason to show strength in a hostile world.

Panama As a Birthday Present

2008-05-26T00:39:00.000-07:00

Well, I know there is much to write about, but I thought I would first write about my recent trip to Panama and Colombia. The Boy and I left on my birthday and a number of people seemed to feel badly for me that I had to travel on my birthday. Since I have had a lot of birthdays, my taste in what constitutes a good day is relative. Taking a journey to a new experience – my son with me – was a great birthday present. Besides, I still got all the loot I wanted, including a Body Bugg™ from the Mrs. that has been very helpful in tracking my exercise and giving me important data on my nutrition. It was, in fact, a great birthday, so no need for concern.

I had one other memorable gift from Sladed: an 8 X 10 glossy of Diane Lane! I think it’s a good idea to mention this gift just in case she or her lawyers are monitoring my site.

Panama was completely unexpected. I have been to other cities in Latin America before (far less than the Boy) and was shocked by the difference in how quickly and how impressive Panama City has developed in such a short time. There are hundreds of buildings taller than 20 stories and hundreds more planned including a 107-story building being built by The Donald.

None of this is to say that there isn’t the kind of poverty in the country that exists in much of Latin America. We were told that within the city, in the shadows of these tall buildings, lives 250,000 Panamanians without water. It must be especially dispiriting to these people that Panama is one of the few countries with hundreds of reservoirs filled with an abundant source of clean drinking water (even we weak-stomached Americans can drink out of the tap) and hydro-electric power. So, like much of Latin America, there is a huge disparity between the Haves and the Have Nots. We mostly met with the Haves.

Taking into consideration our limited sample of Panamanians, we found them to be highly sophisticated and seemingly more European than traditional Latin Americans. Many of the people we met had Ivy League educations and spoke perfect English. We met a number of locals who had more money then we could imagine, including a new friend who just sent his son to Portsmouth Priory School, the same Rhode Island prep school attended by Robert Kennedy. To be able to have a place to stay when visiting his son, our friend purchased a Manhattan penthouse – something I am sure we would all do.

Where does all this money come from? There is huge investment in Panama because of the Panama Canal and a free trade zone that has made Panama so,ething like a Latin American Hong Kong. The Canal takes in transport fees at the rate of $3.5 million per day, about half of which goes to various government officials, so we are told, and the balance to the people of Panama.

The Boy and I watched a ship go through the Canal and it was quite an amazing thing to see. A huge container ship, nearly 1,000 feet long and 40 feet wide, went through the Canal with 24 inches to spare on either side. The ship was lowered through two docks that each dropped 27 feet to take it from the Pacific to the Atlantic. All in all, it’s an incredible feat of engineering and a huge savings in time and money for the tons and tons of products that are delivered all over the world.

We heard one interesting story with some historical significance. We were invited to the shop of a highly-respected French fashion designer. The shop was clearly the place where one of our hosts had her clothing made by well-treated and talented Cuna Indians who stitched together the French woman’s designs. As a quick aside, our host usually wore three very fashionable and unique outfits each day, explaining that the humidity and heat in Panama required her to make the changes to stay fresh. I can only confirm that my undershorts got a bit uncomfortable after too much walking around in the weather.

I was instantly bored in the shop because not only was the designer's taste not of my liking, I liked even less the price tags – blouses, though pretty, for $400. I can’t imagine that Mrs. Laz would have wanted me to spend so lavishly on her. The Boy and I followed our host and the designer into her office so she could show us an old photo of Rosalyn Carter who had purchased items at her shop, no doubt when her husband was signing over the pink slip to the Canal.

She showed other photos of her long career and one in particular struck my curiosity. It was a photo of a pretty young runway model having a wardrobe malfunction. Of course there is a better story to it than just a glimpse of something you can see on HBO any night of the week. The photo was shot at a fashion show at the height of rebellion against military strongman Manuel Noriega. Protests were common at the time and the protestors wore only white, I suspect to make the blood following the beatings show up better.

Because white clothing became synonymous with opposition to Noriega, most intelligent people wore other colors. Now I heard her say that Noriega had outlawed wearing white but the Boy heard it that wearing white clothes only cast suspicion on the wearer and was like a sign asking for a beating. Whatever the reason, the French designer was holding a high-brow fashion show one evening and had flown in a famous French model. While she never told us the background behind her design for the finale that night, we all guessed she was not a huge fan of General Noriega.

I first heard Noriega called “Pineapple Face” on Rush Limbaugh’s show but it is possible he got the name elsewhere. Wherever it started, the nickname stuck to Noriega back home and he was none too pleased, banning the use of his infamous nickname and frowning on anything that looked like a pineapple. Of course at the night of the fashion show the designer had made the finale dress all in white except for a large pineapple in the center of the dress and two pineapple leafs on the shoulders of the dress, looking quite a bit like military garb. The people attending the fashion show were at first holding their breath when they saw the model walking quickly down the runway until she turned and the wardrobe malfunction caused her dress and the attached pineapple to fall. The crowd stood up and cheered the Spanish version of “The Pineapple has fallen, the pineapple has fallen.”

The designer went home that night assuming the police would be at her door the next morning to arrest and beat her. To her surprise the U.S. marines had arrived in Panama at dawn and taken Noriega, without habeas corpus I might add, and Pineapple Face’s regime had come to an inglorious conclusion. So, the designer added with simplicity, she was responsible for the coup.

Speaking of the marines and the coup, the Boy and I were given a great tour of the city by a young man named Sirhan who completely understood his rather unfortunate name when he was hanging out with Americans. Name aside he was a great and knowledgeable guy who shuttled us through the old center of Panama, which had a decidedly different look and feel to the multiple high rises in the distance. Much of the colonial architecture was still prevalent in the old town and the life there seemed more vibrant. On the day the U.S. Marines landed they came ashore in the center of the old town, fought their way to Noriega and left shortly thereafter.

At the time, President Bush’s Defense Secretary, Dick Cheney, was pleased with the ease of the operation and relative small loss of life; a mere 19 Panamanian civilians by his count. Sirhan had a different figure, telling us without trying to cause us discomfort that the number was probably closer to 2,000 Panamanians killed during the liberation and many more from what he explained were chemical weapons fired into the city as the marines came ashore.

Not sure where the truth lies, but I did ask Sirhan why he and most Panamanians like Americans. After all we had not been invited to nab Noriega, we fought hard and with little mercy to keep the Canal and likely had our CIA murder President Torrijos (the father of the current Panamanian president who approaches Americans a bit more warily) over the fact that that he wasn’t as compliant on giving us the Canal back as we wanted. Sirhan told us that Americans were always liked in Panama because we are always happy and we helped them win their independence from Colombia in 1903. So goofy-looking Americans in cheap Panama hats with a dumb smile and the fact Panamanians don’t have a “yeah, what have you done for me lately” attitude keep us welcome down there. And, I guess, that’s a good thing.

Next, I will write about our travels up above the clouds in Bogotá. Assuming something doesn’t strike my fancy first.

Missed Extra Points

2008-04-30T00:40:00.001-07:00

It's Mrs. Laz's birthday today (yesterday, really) and I got upstaged by the Girl by not listening to her and getting the present she told me Mrs. Laz really wanted. Instead I got her some techmology that was probably more of an interest to me than to her. She may like it, but I should have listened and bought her the Tory Birch shoes she strongly hinted she wanted. Fortunately, the Boy and the Ber came through and bought the overpriced pair of ballet slippers.

Lately I have been sucking at birthdays. Last year, I took her at her word and gave her a simple birthday when it was a milestone birthday. We did very little and I did as she requested and didn't buy her a present. After living among women for half a century, I should know better than to believe they are actually telling the truth and they really don't want a present. A new car may have been more appropriate than a hearty handshake and pat on the back on getting to the milestone.

I also failed this year to prepare her a HallMike Card in which I beat the local card shop out of $3 and write my own. It's always more personal and direct and it just slipped my very slippery mind this year.

Rather than try to write one up at this hour -- and her birthday is now behind us -- I will just say to her: I love you dearly and may you have a lot more birthdays to come and, should you have more birthdays than me, may you find a new man who has a better sense of how to treat his woman on her birthday.

Bill O'Reilly Is A Big Fat Idiot!

2008-04-30T00:37:00.000-07:00

I just need to get this off my chest: the supposedly conservative Bill O’Reilly is nothing but a loud-mouthed, self-important windbag. He’s also more of a Socialist than a conservative.
Yes, I know, I shouldn’t be listening to talk radio, but his show happened to be on and I was caught up in a debate he was having over the high price of gas at the pump. He was complaining that oil companies were raping the world’s users of their product by making an obscene profit of nine percent of sales. He suggested that oil companies’ profits should be limited to three percent, a number he just happened to pull out of thin air.

This isn’t to say that raping by the oil companies isn’t going on and affecting all of our pocketbooks, but O’Reilly’s solution is naïve, moronic and far too simplistic. I am sure he shed few tears when a barrel of oil was $12 back in the 1980s and oil company executives’ largest use of gas cans was to torch their own homes because they couldn’t afford to live in them anymore. There have been, of course, cycles in the oil industry and there will be another downturn coming.

O'Reilly said he supports Hillary Clinton’s position on a “windfall profits” tax. For those who remember, we got a windfall profits tax in the 1970s and it was tacked on to the price we consumers pay at the pump and is still there to this day. Another tax will not affect the profits of the oil companies, it will just be passed along and add more cost to consumers and be a profit center, if one can look at government as an appropriate place for a profit center, to the federal slush fund.

Think about it, the largest windfall to the increase in gas prices is at all levels of government, not the oil companies. First, there is a state sales tax on fuel of about 8 percent. When gas was at $2.00 per gallon, the state of California took in about $.16 per gallon. At $4, the intake is doubled. This does not include the 18 percent excise tax charged by the state and all the taxes that California used to charge the refineries in California, only they don’t charge the refineries anymore because refiners left the state due to over-regulation and higher costs. The price you pay at the pump also does not include an additional 18.3 percent federal excise tax. All added up, you are paying various governments 44.3 percent of the price of each gallon of gas you purchase. In the last two years, this means revenue to the state and federal government has doubled.

If government cared more about consumers paying high prices at the pump, why don’t our elected officials suggest cutting the cost of taxes in half and cuttings their windfall? Why wouldn’t that be fair as they are getting twice the revenue? Government does not take any of the risk in brining gas to your car. They don’t drill for it, they don’t build and maintain the pipelines for it, they don’t refine it, they don’t ship it, they don’t insure it, and they don’t truck it to the filling station. They just sit back and let the cash roll in and then have the unmitigated arrogance to suggest, like O’Reilly does, that oil companies are making too much money.

O’Reilly further showed his ignorance by saying the price of gas is only set by commodity brokers speculating on oil futures and has nothing to do with supply and demand. Absolute rubbish. Oil prices have everything to do with supply and demand. Emerging economies in India and China are more than doubling the demand for oil, which necessarily means there is a bidding war for a finite amount of oil. Further, unrest in the Middle East – caused by our government’s actions, not the actions of the oil companies – has damaged supply as has unrest in oil producing countries like Nigeria, Angola and many places in Latin America.

Policy established by the Fed, and supported by our government, lowering interest rates to such a degree is also having a real impact on the cost of fuel and all other products. The decision by the Fed to keep interests low and hope to inflate our way out of economic stagnation is, to borrow a line from our favorite reverend, like having our chickens coming home to roost. We shouldn’t be shocked when their plan is working, we should simply just ask, “What the hell are you doing to us?”

Finally, all those enviros who want us in a Prius must share in the responsibility of the high cost of fuel. There is ample oil deposits off the Gulf Coast, the coast of California and in the Alaska wilderness to have the U.S. be a net exporter of oil, not the largest importer. All attempts to drill in these areas have been halted by various governments to appease environmentalists. Yes, I know , this is a sensitive subject as we must maintain the delicate balance as stewards of nature, but why don’t we hear any howls of complaints when the drilling is done in the Iranian desert? Could our problem with drilling for oil be more about “not-in-my-backyard” than protecting the global environment? What about nuclear power? The beloved Europeans use it extensively as a means to light up the grid that powers the continent’s homes and businesses. Why not fire up a few nuke plants here? Add to the supply and the cost will go down.

This is all simple Adam Smith economics. Perhaps O’Reilly could pick up a copy of Wealth of Nations and read a chapter or two and, as 441 loves to say, then he can pop off.

Angst In My Pants

2008-04-27T09:57:00.000-07:00

“I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand, walking through Soho in the rain” – Warren Zevon.

Kellen and Sladed have been adding quotes representing the deep thoughts of others to their blogs so I will join in and add a good quote before each post. Mine could be more obscure, I must warn.

I quite nearly put another Zevon quote to this post that may have added more to the theme but it could be construed as a bit negative, although it would not have been intended that way. It goes “she’s hanging on to half a heart, but she can’t have the restless part. So she tells him to hasten down the wind.”

The “she” in that case would have implied the misses and I don’t want her to hasten my way down the wind. But the thought does go to the larger question: why do I appear to have this restless heart?

As long as I can remember – and there are those who believe I can’t remember things from five minutes ago so that may not be that long ago – I have lived my life with a rampant restlessness. The weird part is, I really haven’t been that fond of being restless. I’d like to be settled, even if it meant settling for less than the elaborate and warped life plan I have dished up for myself.

Despite all the time I spend mapping out my goals and expectations, I never seem to get where I want to go. Too often I fall far short, make a u-turn, try something new and the new thing ultimately falls short as well. These string of mini-failures (at worse) or tough breaks (in the middle) or minor successes (a good spin) add up and make me wonder what the hell I am up to; what’s my life plan anyway?

The bigger fear I have had lately is that my disease is a bit contagious. I see glimpses of the early stages of torment in the Boy and Girl. While both seem to be far more focused on who they are and what pleases them, I worry that life will continue to fall short of their expectations. Mind you, having lofty goals is what everyone should have, but I suspect there should also be a defense mechanism implanted that allows us all to fall down and skin our knees without having it become such a rough landing.

I may be wrong and the kids have developed better coping skills than I have managed. I just wouldn’t wish my case of anxiety on others; especially those I care most about.

The good ending to the story is that I am on to a new twist in my life and feeling that freedom that only comes from wrapping up one chapter to open a new one. So I am once again excited about the future and the promises it always makes to me. This time, however, I hope to plan better and to stop relying on my seat-of-the-pants method of trying to make things happen in a good way. I will also seek the advice and counsel of others who I have grown to trust (The Boy, The Girl, Mrs. Laz, Sladed and LP).

I was talking to Italiphil today and we both arrived at the fact that we are in the last quarter of our working life and still trying to find our way. We made something of a blood oath to make the next 25 years be our best and reach our goals. Hope it happens because, after all, it is the final stage of our working years. For my offspring and younger readers, may you be sailing by no later than the end of the first quarter of your working life. That would make us all happy.

Marley And Me

2008-04-08T22:39:00.001-07:00

Who knows why we do certain things. For the past several months, I have secretly wanted my own dog. Watching the Mrs. and The Girl with their two dogs in their laps only made me want one of my own fluffy things in my lap. (I wonder if I should rephrase that. Naw, that looks OK to me).

Gradually I made it known what I was thinking and when the idea didn’t get shot down completely, I began one of my quiet and steady lobby campaigns.

The Girl was a pushover. I only needed to mention there was a possibility of a new pet joining the family and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she would begin looking at http://www.petfinder.com/, a great site that allows people to look at several shelters for just about any dog imaginable. To get her total support, the dog had to come from a shelter, preferably a “kill shelter” so we could actually rescue a dog from the grips of death. I could get extra support from The Girl if the dog was missing an eye or a leg or was functionally dead since she is a sucker for tough luck cases. But I also know she is a sucker for any cute little puppy so I had some room to find a pet with all its limbs intact.

As for Mrs. Laz, all I needed to do to get her to see it my way was make a lot of impassioned statements about never being allowed to have my own dog. This I did with conviction and great feeling. Of course I also had to agree to pull my own weight and feed and walk the dog and clean up after it if it happened to make a mistake on our new carpet. For a new puppy, I would agree to almost anything, so this was easy.

With such a great advocacy plan, how could I miss? Last Saturday we decided to go to our local shelter and see if any dog – preferably a puppy – made a connection with us. But let’s be honest here, there is absolutely no way you can go to a shelter, find any dog that is remotely cute, hold it in your hands and then walk away. Fortunately we were very lucky to find a young female spaniel mix (who knows what she’s mixed with) that was young – at 7 months a bit younger than I wanted – and truly loveable. I knew the moment I saw her I would go home with her and this was even after we had a little competition from a woman who had spotted her first but, as it turned out, didn’t connect.

We had to bring our two dogs to meet our hoped for new puppy, who was named Krispy Crème by the shelter. I am not sure why we needed to bring our dogs into a weird environment to be able to take a dog off their hands. Dogs may not like each other at first, but they always work things out. The dogs ended up doing fine, even crazy Spooner acted semi-normal.

We took her home and she seemed very much at ease but the name Krispy just didn’t seem right. We tossed out a number of names and, after 24 hours, I threw out Marley after the dog in the book Marley and Me. Little did I know that The Boy wanted to name his eventual puppy Marley after the Reggae singer, but tough noogies, I got the name first.

Since she’s been home, Marley has been the perfect angel, sleeping between me and Mrs. Laz just like she’s been there forever. She loves to run as fast as she can at the park and wants desperately to play with Missy but Spooner, ever the boss, lets her know that she has not yet been cleared to play with her young charge.

I admit to being nervous making the decision to bring her home, but couldn’t be happier I have her in our home. I know I won’t live up to my promises, but it really feels good that I have my own dog, even if she likes Mrs. Laz the best. Thanks to my family for letting me have Marley and I hope she ends up being a great addition to the Hollyfelds.

The Truth About Hillary

2008-04-07T17:56:00.000-07:00

Anyone who follows politics knows the Clintons have difficulty with telling the truth. Perhaps that’s a polite way of just saying the Clintons are known liars. The weird part is that they often get caught in their lies, face some nominal and momentary embarrassment, then go out and tell another lie later on.

With Hillary Clinton on the center stage now, she has assumed the role of Liar In Chief. Before becoming a contender for the presidency, Hillary’s lies had been overshadowed by her husband, a much more gifted and forgiven liar. Hillary has been working at perfecting bending the truth during her campaign, I suspect to demonstrate to the voting public she has the kind of experience people look for in a president – at least the kind of president her husband was.

My favorite Hillary-caught-in-a-lie episode happened just after she became First lady and has been mentioned in an earlier post. When she was being questioned on how she turned a $1,000 investment into a $100,000 profit in the rough-and-tumble cattle futures business, she feigned surprise at her luck but told the media that it was too much stress as she was pregnant with Chelsea at the time and decided to sell her futures rather than double-down. The next day it was quickly pointed out that she sold the futures before she was pregnant. Bill Clinton’s press spokeswoman Dee Dee Myers was sent out to explain. When the press asked about the obvious inconsistency in the answer, Myers responded that the earlier answer “was no longer operative.”

And that’s the way it is with the Clintons; they don’t actually believe they lie. The “misspeak,” things are “taken out of context,” there are stories that “are very old” and they have answers that are no longer “operative.” In the real world and not in politics, these are just called lies.

Hillary’s story about landing in Tuzla amidst sniper fire during the Bosnian war was eventually dispelled by press footage of her not ducking anything except a salute from a soldier. She’s been telling this story so long, a story meant to demonstrate that she’s had experience in the line of fire, that she may have actually believed it. I’m sorry, but even if she was under fire, it’s difficult to believe anyone would think this gives her the executive experience she so sorely lacks. Bill had to dodge a firing squad of dishes thrown by her when he was president, but I doubt it made him a better leader.

Her response to this flap was even more telling about the way the Clintons operate. First her hatchet men rallied around her, saying she was subject to viscous press attacks (another example of executive leadership under her definition, I suspect). When more and more evidence came out, including statements by people on the same trip (some of them laughing at her account), the new official campaign response was that she merely “misspoke,” and then it was put off to her being tired and therefore forgetful. If I was shot at and doing barrel rolls on a transport plane into Bosnia, I am not sure I would forget it, but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she has irrational connections to events when tired.

Of course this forgetfulness when tired does not bode well for her 3 a.m. phone call ads that are supposed to put people at ease that she would be there to answer the phone to handle important events instead of other, less-experienced, pretenders to the presidency. I’d hate to think she would be so tired that she would think the Russians are nuking us and order a retaliatory response. I guess the next day, after half the population was wiped out, she’d have a good chuckle while explaining she misunderstood events because she was tired.

Her latest lie is being billed as not a lie at all, just a story that was told to her by someone she trusted and began repeating over and over on the campaign trail. It was a story about a young pregnant woman who had complications and went to a hospital in Ohio. The story goes that the pregnant woman was turned away because she didn’t have insurance or $100 to cover the cost of medical attention. When turned away, the baby died. She was sent to a different hospital but had the same problem and, while trying to sort things out, the women died at the hospital. It’s a perfect story to support Hillary’s belief in universal health care and the callousness of the medical profession. The problem is, key parts of the story turned out not to be true.

The hospital in question, not mentioned by name in her stump speeches, has been receiving angry letters from people around the country. Administrators looked into the matter and discovered the woman was a patient, had died, but did have insurance and was not turned away at all. The Clinton campaign has announced the candidate will discontinue telling the story, but still mentioned that what didn’t happen is still evidence that something has to be done about healthcare in the country. This was again sloughed off as not a lie, just an unfortunate misunderstanding of a story told by someone they trusted. When asked why they didn’t vet the story better, they told the press that they couldn’t look into the matter further due to patient privacy. So they had no problem using this poor woman as a prop for their misguided campaign pledge, but they do respect her medical privacy, so all is good.

In the world the Clintons live in, these are not lies but unfortunate lost opportunities. She’d still be telling the Tuzla story if Sinbad hadn’t spoken up about it, and I am sure she would still be offering her sympathies to the poor woman who wasn’t killed because she lacked government-backed medical insurance if only the hospital hadn’t meddled into her privacy. I think what is becoming clear with the mountain of lies that have built up over the years is that this is not about telling tall tales, it’s become pathological.

Saying Something Stupid

2008-04-03T22:51:00.000-07:00

I hate to be writing too often but there is a certain craziness in the air these days. The latest nut case is the former news mogul Ted Turner who created CNN for the Clintons and 1,000 of their best friends – at least based on recent Nielsen Ratings.

Turner was a guest on Charlie Rose the other night and was rambling on about global warming. I know global warming deserves a decent debate but I am not sure it ends up where Turner was taking it. He appeared to guarantee that the world will be “eight degrees hotter in 30 or 40 years and basically none of the crops will grow.” He said most people will have died by then and those who hadn’t would be cannibals, and then said the world would be one giant failed state like Sudan and Somalia.

OK, Sudan and Somalia are failed states but not because of global warming but because of greed and racism of its class of warlords. Maybe we will be eight degrees warmer in 30-40 years, but perhaps Turner would be willing to put some of his energy into suggesting ways to improve conditions in Sudan and Somalia and do it now. CNN has cameras in both spots. Why not use the money they are spending on keeping reporters alive and on the ground in these places on a few thousand pounds of rice and dried milk? Instead of filming the starving victims, feed them!

He went on to add, "We're too many people; that's why we have global warming…. Too many people are using too much stuff." He then pointed out he has a tendency to put his foot in his mouth before saying, “I've gotten a lot better, though. It's been a long time since anybody caught me saying something stupid." Consider yourself caught, Ted. After all the stupid things he said leading up to that, he lasted only moments between stupid statements by suggesting all countries of the world have just one or two children; voluntarily, of course. Turner’s three marriages have produced five children so, taking his suggestion, we’re sorry to inform him he has to toss a few back.

Finally he railed on about the war in Iraq, calling the insurgents “patriots.” His reasoning is they are patriots because their country has been invaded. Think about that for a moment. If they are “insurgents,” it means they are from somewhere else and not Iraq. Therefore, the “insurgent's” countries have not been invaded, they lose patriot status and are merely invaders themselves joining in on the killing of Iraqis and Americans.

It would be best for Ted Turner to carry a tape recorder around all day and listen to the things he says. He may find that very helpful. And, yes, I am watching too much Arrested Development.

Sleeper Agents

2008-04-03T08:14:00.000-07:00

Something worth pondering, not on the basis of what we learned, but on the basis of what we don’t know. Over the course of the past few months, a half dozen people have been sentenced on espionage charges over selling military and other secrets to the Chinese government. In the most damaging case, the Chinese government sent Chi Mak to the U.S. in the 1970s to embed himself in the defense industry, win promotions and higher security clearances and then send highly classified military secrets to Beijing.

The good news is he was caught and sentenced to 24 years in prison in what the sentencing judge described as a tough message to send to the Chinese government so they will keep their spies home. The bad news is that the Chinese government doesn’t care about Mak, other than the loss of one of its many pipelines of security theft, and that Mak is hardly alone in his efforts to steal military secrets and conduct industrial espionage on behalf of China.

Our own Justice Department believes that the recent arrests and convictions represent only a small faction of the Chinese government’s network in the U.S. The department believes we have been infiltrated by students, consultants, and employees at sensitive U.S. government sites and they seem to be overwhelmed determining who is a spy and who is a legitimate worker. The very fact that Mak had been sent here 30 years ago as a “sleeper agent” should demonstrate the patience of the Chinese government and the lengths it will go in getting the goods on us. If only they had sent people here to learn how not to make toys that poison our kids.

Of course there is a simple solution, although not a pretty one. Until China comes clean and removes its agents, we should not allow any student or work visas to Chinese nationals and should either revoke the security clearance of any workers born in China or give them all polygraph exams, something they agree to accept on a random basis when given the clearance. This effort, while extreme, may stem the tide a little and keep what few secrets we have left in the U.S.

Two other issues of note in this story: Some of those convicted were Americans willing to sell their country out for cash payments, which doesn’t say much about American workers. Also, assuming the Chinese government has been this successful in infiltrating our security network, what about the presence of other sleeper agents from parts of the world that are stealing our secrets with greater malicious intent? We are a free and open society that allows far too easy access to our borders and our national security institutions. We should be far more careful.

KK B Day

2008-04-03T00:05:00.000-07:00

There are a few things worth celebrating today. First and foremost, it is The Boy’s 26th birthday and, while we no longer stock up on Thunder Cats and airplane pants, the memory of the joy he has brought us all these years is more than worth noting.

I only ruined one of his birthdays. In 2002, something in my body told my head to take a time out. Technically the doctors called it a Transient Ischemic Attack (or a TIA or mini-stroke as it is often referred). While my closest action to playing a doctor was literally playing doctor with my cousin (female), I disagree with the medical conclusion and think it was just stress forcing its will on me and telling me to “chill out” as Bill Clinton screams these days (there’s a guy headed for the Big One). Anyway, whatever it was, I am six years beyond that episode and I am told by doctors – who I believe this time – that the passage of time without another event is a good thing. So, rather than look back on this day that ordinarily belongs to The Boy with any kind of blemish, I will celebrate my disease-free brain.

The only part of this day that has an added emotional attachment is that this is the final birthday that will exclusively belong to us as his parents. Assuming nobody gets the wiser and The Boy and The Ber tie the knot this year, we will be handing over his birthday duties to his wife-to-be. I know future birthdays will be in good hands and we offer The Ber the following advice: when he makes a birthday suggestion, go out and buy it that day and give it to him, even if it’s a month early. Happy birthday Sonny!

Starting Over

2008-03-31T20:58:00.000-07:00

This should come as no surprise to anyone who knew I was traipsing around the country, but I gained back all the weight I lost for the year -- 7 pounds -- in just two weeks. It doesn't surprise me, either. I ate poorly, exercised just twice, had a poor sleep habit and even had a decent amount of alcohol at various beer halls.

I tried looking around for someone else to blame but, in the end, I know I alone must accept the responsibility. I was in a pretty good exercise and eating routine before leaving and I think I believed I was more immune from the temptation of rich food and better prepared to exercise regardless of my circumstances. Instead, the two weeks I was gone were a complete disaster.

So now I am beginning my long path back to where I started. I went to the gym today and will get back into the practice of working up a sweat and embarrassing myself in front of shapely women in the abs class (women who don't look like they need an abs class) before slinking out the door and earning my nickname of "Jumper." Heaven help us all.

The Boy And The Blog

2008-03-23T20:45:00.000-07:00

The Boy has a new blog and is off to a pretty good start. He had another blog a while ago but life and not having a clear objective of where he wanted his blog to go kept him from making a go of it. I suspect writer's cramp also had a role, a problem I know something about, by god I do.

His new blog is different in a few ways. For one, he emerges out of the shadow and goes by his real name. As you know, I, along with fellow blogger Sladed, have remained anonymous except to a few of our friends that we are willing to share our weird little thoughts with. The Boy figures if he has something to say, he wants people to know who's saying it. Tough to argue with that logic.

So he has outed himself and is loud and proud -- not that there is anything wrong with that -- about a variety of subjects. By outing himself and me linking to his blog, I will ultimately out myself, but I think that's OK. Perhaps it's time for me to be more out there. What do I care if people know who's writing this crap? I was actually thinking about starting a new blog and calling it "Mike's Blah Blog" as sort of a reminder that I write a lot of "blah blah."

I encourage you to read his blog; it's called "Mientras Vacilando (and is also listed under my "links" section to the right). He has a different, generational take on many issues and some great links that don't show up here. I actually hope it scratches his writing funnybone and leads him to writing an historical novel or something else that interests him. If he gets really good, I will be able to take credit for his success and maybe earn a buck or two selling dirty secrets about him to various tabloids.

Good luck with it Kel .... er, I mean, The Boy.

Putting On The Pounds

2008-03-23T20:32:00.000-07:00

Forgive me Sladed for I have sinned. It had been six days since I last exercised.

All too true. Traveling, as I have found, sucks when it comes to keeping up with one's exercise routine. I switched to working out in ways that can easily be done in any hotel (treadmill, elliptical machine, stationary bikes) and even took classes to learn how to work my abs and strengthen my core (new word application in my dictionary). All the same, between a few airline journeys and running around a bit too much, I was either too tired or too overwhelmed to feel like exercising at the end of the day.

The downside is I feel heavier again and likely have gained back the seven pounds I have worked so hard to rid my flabbiness of. Tonight I took a brisk walk and ran some and feel better, but it is too little and, it would appear, too late.

I feel like a contestant on Biggest Loser who goes home and can't keep up with what he's learned at the campus. So I have too choices, please vote for what you believe to be the best idea: One, I suck it up and exercise twice each day and get into a rhythm of working out so that it feels weird not to, or, two, gain an extra 30-40 pound to make me eligible to be on the Biggest Loser so I can get into that six-hour-a-day workout regimen, get on TV, and have a shot at the grand prize. From what I know of the show from paying attention real, real, hard is that to be on the Biggest Loser Couples show, I need to divorce and go with my ex-wife or have a partner who is not my girlfriend. At least that's as I understand it from the two women in my life.

I wonder, openly, if Diane Lane would put on a few extra pounds to be on the show with me? Actresses are always gaining weight so they can play a role with greater honesty. Being on TV with me would be one of Diane's most challenging roles. I think she should do it. Where is her publicist's number? I know I have it somewhere.

Great Website

2008-03-21T19:48:00.000-07:00

I found a very good website that I wanted to share with you all. It’s called Hulu and it looks like it’s NBC and Fox networks teaming together to offer streaming video of some of their most popular TV shows. There is no cost to watch shows like The Office, Arrested Development, The Simpsons, 30 Rock, and even some older shows like WKRP in Cincinnati (Sladed, remember that one?), Married With Children and the Mary Tyler Moore Show.

The shows are free to watch, you only have to wait through one commercial during the normal break for several commercials (and, no, you can’t fast-forward through them, I already tried).

It was a bit confusing when I first saw this website advertised on Yahoo! I couldn’t figure out why they were making at least the current shows available in such a manner. Putting them online must run counter to their desire to sell packaged seasons of shows on DVDs. Then it occurred to me that there is no cost to put these up other than to host the site. No need to produce the DVDs and create and pay for packaging and no reason to split the profits with distributors and retailers (or e-tailers). And, perhaps most of all, I suspect there is no need to share the wealth with actors, writers, producers and crew either. It essentially is just another bite at the apple for us to watch the shows again with new advertising revenue.

I hope the idea works for them because it has been great to watch while away from home. I can only imagine how great it is for people on extended trips out of the country. If you get the chance, check it out (but not at work).

Barack and White

2008-03-01T00:26:00.000-08:00

I wasn’t going to blog too much tonight. Hey, I did my five for the month so I could have saved this for next month and been one ahead of my goal. But when you have something to say, you have to say it. OK, so I cheated and waited until after midnight so it shows up in March.

I read a rather pithy article in the Washington Post about how insensitive Saturday Night Live was to have a white man play the part of Barack Obama in one of its shows. The writer said it was reminiscent of putting on the black shoe polish. Give me a break!

First of all, cast member Fred Armisen auditioned for the role and was chosen from five others and I thought did a pretty good imitation of the Senator. Second, and this is really getting to grate on me, Obama’s background is only half black. Does this mean Armisen only needed half the black shoe polish?

As noted in a recent post, Obama was born to a white woman and a Kenyan man. He was raised by an Indonesian step-father. His roots are not exactly out of an Alex Haley novel. Since he was raised in a home mixed with American and Asian cultures, he has more in common with Armisen than he does with any other black actor since Armisen is half white and half Asian.

When Halle Berry won an Oscar, she was usually mentioned as the first African American to win the Best Actress award. Putting it this way is a bit disingenuous and not exactly accurate. Berry was born to a white British mother and an African American father. The father divorced her mother when she was four years old and was subsequently raised by her mother. Her father had little to do with her.

The media places a lot of pressure on Tiger Woods to be a racial icon when I think he’d rather just be a golfing icon, thank you. It makes no more difference that he is Thai and African American than it does if he is just African American, but it seems it does to various writers of race-related politics. Tiger’s father certainly helped him be the man and the golfer he has become and his death deeply affected Tiger’s life. Does it really matter that his father was black? He is just Tiger’s father and let it go at that.

This isn’t to say all of these people's African American heritage means nothing or Obama's, Berry’s and Wood’s father’s genetic code means nothing. It’s just that it always seems we’re so ready to label that we forget that our entire American culture is hyphenated. One of my friends is Sicilian-American, another is Irish-American. They consider themselves American and these friends are first generation Americans.

Let’s hope if Obama become president we can get past the racial descriptions and just have someone representing all of America. I would never vote for or against anyone because of their heritage and can’t understand why anyone else would. I don’t know where these prejudicial thoughts come from. Personally, I think the French started it.

Resolving Things

2008-02-29T21:47:00.000-08:00

OK, so this is the first month of weight loss progress. I had made my rather tardy New Year's Resolutions last month that included the goal of losing 60 pounds this year at a meager rate of five pounds per month. I know what you're saying, "Laz, you don't need to lose 60 pounds, you look marvelous." To quote Cartman, "I'm not fat, I'm big-boned" and I need to shed a few pounds off my bones.

Last month was a dismal failure as I lost no weight (although I have a bit of an excuse as I vacationed at the all-you-can-eat buffet with a great deal of zeal). This month I joined a gym and have only missed a few days. I have been using the elliptical machine, the tread mill, playing some basketball (a lot of running, very little scoring) and even did a little boxing and tried ten minutes of an ab class but had to sulk out with a towel over my head while the instructor -- and The Ber -- called me a "Jumper" for leaving the class.

The bottom line is, I lost five pounds this month, most of it in the last 8-10 days. No big drop like they do in the Biggest Loser TV show. I even gained one pound during my "last chance workout" last night. Oh well, I'm happy I am losing and I feel better exercising. Hopefully I can lose another five in March and keep that up for the rest of the year. Thanks for listening.

Death Of A Blogger

2008-02-28T17:10:00.002-08:00

The Boy sent this to me a few days ago. It's about a soldier stationed in Iraq who kept up a blog on what was going on around him. He kept a final post in his back pocket in the event of his untimely death while in Iraq. Sadly that day came and his posthumous report is both powerful and sad. It also has it's moments of humor and shares some of his deep insight. It is really worth a read if you have the time.

A Closer Look

2008-02-28T17:10:00.001-08:00

Hey, I just noticed, I am getting closer!

Missing On A Promise

2008-02-28T17:07:00.000-08:00

I am not sure, but at the present rate, I will not get to five blog posts this month as I resolved in my New Year's promises. I may fall short, but it may be too early to tell. I'll keep you posted.

Democracy Part Deux

2008-02-28T16:49:00.000-08:00

Over the last several years, I have been ranting about a hypocritical and superior view of democracy as forwarded by members of our government and the major media. It’s been something of a private rant, but a rant nonetheless. Because I have a little time on my hands and feel a bit like ranting, I will share these views and maybe there can be a short test at the end to see what we’ve learned.

I started to notice a pattern of American democracy promotion after the collapse of the Berlin Wall and perhaps even before then with the shipyard protests led by Lech Walesa. It took me until recently while in Ukraine to recognize that our push to democratize others was more about using a political weapon then helping out people yearning to be free.

In 1983 President Reagan helped create a new agency call National Endowment for Democracy. To keep everyone in our democracy happy, funding for this agency was to be split among U.S. trade unions, the Democratic Party and the Republican Party. The agency was designed for the promotion of democracy in countries where we thought the citizens could use a little nudging to our side. Not surprisingly much of this early money went to Eastern European countries and places that had oil. Walesa got plenty of democracy training under these grants, which he used to pester the pro-Soviet Polish government and to have them respond by turning water hoses on Lech and his supporters without regard to political party affiliation.

Prior to the creation of the NED was the United States Agency for International Development, formed as part of the Marshall Plan at the end of World War II. Its mission, as stated on its website is to "extend a helping hand to those people overseas struggling to make a better life, recover from a disaster or striving to live in a free and democratic country..." Just to demonstrate the effectiveness of its push for democracy, the largest recipients of USAID funds, in order, are Iraq, Israel, Egypt, Afghanistan, Colombia, Jordan, Pakistan, Liberia, Peru, Ethiopia, Bolivia, Turkey and Uganda. Strangely, only a handful of these countries are democratic and the others are rather dubious in their practice of democracy.

Nowadays USAID and NED are funded from the same sources and overlap a great deal. In fact, USAID oversees a lot of NED-funded projects. I must admit that I have taken some of the taxpayer’s hard earned money and worked on a USAID-funded project or two. While working in an Eastern European country, I ran into an old friend who worked for another U.S. agency with well-known initials. He was quite impressed by my agency’s success at turning former adversaries away from the old Soviet sphere of influence. In fact he said if his agency had the kind of funding my agency did, we would have ended the Cold War much earlier. Indeed, a number of USAID workers have either been thrown out of the country for spying or, in some cases, been murdered for being spies. I guess it’s important and acceptable to break a few rules to encourage participation in the American form of democracy.

Hopefully this background puts today’s rhetoric in perspective. It shouldn’t take you long to read about the evil countries not practicing democracy, particularly the American form of democracy. Excluded in this debate are countries that are led by monarchs and dictators and have the common denominator of having loads of oil or countries that make our consumer products for $1 per day or less. If a country does not fall into one of these two categories, we can get very cross with them, indeed.

One country that is the subject of official government scorn is Russia with the free and diligent U.S. press always ready to carry the message of Russia’s failing democracy. Not that Russia ever had much in the way of a democracy unless you count the drunken years that Boris Yeltsin allowed various mafia dons to rule his country. No, it seems that Russia fails in our definition of democracy and, according to many, is the worst example of a free nation in the world, quickly sliding to the dark days of the Soviet Union. As an aside, those who pushed Détente with the Soviets to ensure world peace are the same people shaking their fingers at the Russians today. Their reason for Détente years ago was the assumption that the Soviet Empire was too powerful to defeat and really not all that bad so why fight them. Now there are howls by the same people that Russia is rediscovering its Soviet roots. Please, make up your mind.

Our official government position is that Russia fails the test of true democracy because Russian President Vladimir Putin controls the press, suppresses his political opponents and gives favors out to his favorite industrialists. This is all true. Of course this is also true in the U.S., with the only difference being our controls are engineered by two political parties instead of just one. So, I guess, the real definition of democracy is when you get two political parties controlling the system and screwing the masses. A dictatorship is when only one party leader screws the masses.

Both Russian and American leaders are elected but in the case of Russia, the choices are limited to one main political party pitted against whoever is the permanent opposition of the day. In the U.S. we get to choose from two parties! All other people interested in putting their ideas out there are given an impossible task of fleecing special interest for money to run for office, getting airtime (ask Mike Gravel and Duncan Hunter about that) and not having the support of a political party machine and their allies -- trade unions, trial lawyers, wealthy Hungarians, pharmaceutical companies, insurance companies, casinos, corporate polluters and the like.

And what do we get for our form of democracy? We get a 71-year-old nutcase who naturally the press loves because he gave them more power with the passage of his bill on campaign finance reform. Like all star-crossed lovers, however, the press demonstrated it can yank his chain back when it wants when the NY Times published an eight-year-old story on Page One about him cozying up to a lobbyist in more ways than one. Reporting on lobbyists trying to influence influential senators is akin to the NY Times reporting that gaming is going on at Rick’s. Naturally the NY Times, in a very free and fair way, reported his denial on Page Eight.

U.S. democracy has also produced one of the most ridiculous and intellectually insulting primaries in my lifetime. We have an angry and petty white woman running for president along with an equally petty and temperament-challenged white man. We also have the first black candidate to get this far in our quadrennial political beauty pageant. Of course, if we’re being totally honest and attempting to act race-neutral, it should be noted that only the candidate’s father is black and his mother is white so I am not sure which part of his heritage people are voting for if, in fact, his heritage is really that important.

Each of the candidates has had their difficulties playing at the democracy game. When things have been at their darkest, Hillary turns to the dark side and unloads all the political dirt she has on her opponents. The dirt has been accumulated through very undemocratic practices such as holding on to 1,200 raw FBI files (1,200 federal offenses) and hiring sleazy private investigators. Her latest trick has been to make sure we remember her opponent for the democratic primary, Barack Obama, once lived in a Muslim country (although he lived there as a Christian) by pushing a photo that looked like Senator Obama had just returned from a Toga party. To Obama’s discredit, it was not very flattering or politically intelligent to dress up in such garb and violates an old political adage: if you don’t want to look silly wearing a stupid hat, don’t wear a stupid hat. Of course Obama is driving Hillary nuts because he has what she wants: votes and popularity. Not that he is really running a political campaign so much as he is running a movement, which means that no position on any issue is relevant to any of his supporters.

John McCain, for his part, seems very keen on getting to hell. He has announced that he will see bin Laden in hell and Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad there too. He also wanted to let the voting public know that Cuban leader Fidel Castro will soon be joining Karl Marx in hell – presumably with bin Laden, Ahmadinejad and McCain. Perhaps the quickest way for McCain to get to hell would be for him to follow through with his plan to invade Iran and North Korea.

So this is what democracy in the U.S. has become: a hollow contest without the mention of any issue that a future president will face. We’re still getting questions about “boxers or briefs?” and “who would you like to meet in heaven (or hell in the case of McCain)?” This isn’t democracy, this is idiocracy and does nothing more than demonstrate how our country has devolved into a celebrity culture.

I think it would be good for America if we spent a bit more time tidying up our democracy standards rather than picking on others who haven’t been at it for the past 230 years. Certainly we’re not getting it right at more than two centuries, how can we expect others to have it down in two decades?

A Happy Day

2008-02-16T00:19:00.000-08:00

Well, we are a blessed family today. The Boy gave the Ber a lovely engagement ring, the Ber gave him the answer he wanted, and we were given a new daughter. We couldn’t ask for a happier day or a better woman to welcome into our family. We also couldn’t ask for a better family that will be merged into ours by the joining of these two bright souls.

Not much in the way of wedding details and all signs point to a very small gathering. They are getting wedding planning "help" by the Girl who I think desires a budget that is the approximate value of the U.S. deficit. I do have to hand it to the Girl, she’d be pretty good as a wedding planner. If you have contacts in the business, pass her name along....

It’s been quite a month for the Boy. He earned admission into University of San Diego Law School and they were pleased enough with his academic record that they offered him a substantial scholarship. While the world barely needs another lawyer, I think he will be different and will use the law to be a better businessman, scholar, partner or advocate for those who are denied access to redress through the legal system. Any way one slices it, he will be one of the few who will give the profession a better name.

The month could be a home run for our family if the Girl is able to get what looks like a really good job for a well-financed charity in the Bay Area. Aside from wedding planning, she’d be great at managing the public relations for a company that is giving back some of the wealth it earned in the Dot Com industry.

This is the kind of news we always want to hear in our family. Generally I am writing about somone dying in our family or complaining about why the world doesn’t give me everthing I want (maybe because I want everything?). For today, I have everything I need (except Diane Lane). Muah, as the Ber says.

New Year's Revolutions

2008-01-30T21:47:00.000-08:00

Well I didn’t quite get this in before the end of the year, but at least it can be noted it was posted before the end of the month. In what is an annual ritual of mixing hope and repentance, I hereby offer my New Year’s resolutions. First, however, forgive me Father, for I have failed to live up to most of my previous resolutions. Let’s hope this year brings greater discipline and focus on meeting my goals, or at least getting close in the areas I can control.

1. Isn’t this always the first one? We all promise to lose weight and when you are writing that you want to lose a total of 60 pounds in 12 months (five pounds per month, a little more than one pound each week) it doesn’t seem so overwhelming. So why can’t I ever reach this one? Two words, perhaps: cookies and candy. I guess it’s a few more words because I have not been that reliable in exercising away the caloric intake caused by my frequent detours of munching on a chocolate Payday when nobody’s looking. Of course at the beginning of a long journey comes the first step so I am looking at the 60-pound figure as a marathon and not a sprint. Since my weight loss for January is 0.00, I have a bit more pressure on me to catch up, but I think I am ready to lose the flabbiness that has come to define me. But, hey, be kind to me if I don’t make this and, for god’s sake, don’t give me that look when you see me sneaking a warm chocolate donut for breakfast. Dooooooonut.

2. Having moved to San Diego, ostensibly, to be more near my friends, I would like to be less ostensible about it and spend more time with them. And I don’t mean more time just because one of my friends is down the hall at my office, I mean more fun time like going to the beach or swimming laps at the YMCA – assuming I can get my membership back.

3. I want to blog more but I also want more comments. Hmmm, how does one do this? I think we have all learned that the famous Free IPod Giveaway post was a bit of a desperate cry for attention. I’ll try to stay away from those kinds of gimmicks. I also may cut back on the political commentary. Lord knows my political observations get very little comment as evidenced by my recent – and I think one of my best – posts that was something of a primer on how to live in another Clinton regime. My goal will be to have five posts each month. I have catching up in this area too, but should be able to squeeze in a few more to make the cut.

4. Here is my usual quixotic quest to alter the way in which I earn a living; even in just small and simple ways. I’d be very grateful to keep my name out of the paper this year unless I am rescuing a little kid named Timmy out of a well. I want what I do to mean something and for me to mean something to somebody for what I am doing. What do they call that word again? Charity? Not sure I am that acquainted with doing things for a purpose other than money so some serious retraining will be necessary. Still, I’ll have my eye out for that elusive greener pasture.

5. This annual pledge is as predictable as the swallows returning to wherever it is they swallow (don’t mean that in a dirty way, Agent 69). I pledge to finish my unfinished novel. The good news is I have a viable beginning middle and an end. The bad news is I have to put the words in the right order so it all makes sense and carries the brooding, interesting story I have imagined. All I have to do is re-write most of the 425 pages and remember the names of my characters. Can’t remember where I heard this, but someone said an “outline” would be helpful in this endeavor. Hmmmm….outline…..

6. This one is counter-intuitive, I suppose. I want to travel more and travel more to interesting places. I really enjoy the experience of walking in and around different cultures and navigating how to say “you give me massage” in numerous unfamiliar languages (OK, Agent 69, that was meant to be dirty). Traveling to faraway places also means I am likely being paid to lounge among the locals so that is also another super secret reason for this mention.

7. On the flip side of Resolution #6 is the goal to be a better husband, parent and friend; something of a trick if I am 11 hours away eating a chocolate Payday. I guess these qualities can be managed together as long as I continue to remember what it is to love someone completely and to meet them as they want to be met. I think it’s about understanding what friends and family want out of life, understanding better their needs and being a safe place for them to land if required. Perhaps it’s quality over volume and, including learning to love myself more, maybe we’ll have something good going in 2008.

8. Even though this is similar to the weight loss promise with my fingers behind crossed behind my back, I want to be more active athletically. I’d like to feel comfortable swimming 3,500 yards per day and have no difficulty walking at a brisk pace for at least an hour. I don’t want to include things like that Sladed character has up his sleeve like running in a marathon or swimming the Channel, and I especially don’t want to commit to having my eyes gouged out and being fish bait in swimming the La Jolla Rough Water. Although I will try to look good enough in a Speedo by September to give it fair thought.

9. I getting near the end, so be patient. This one is a bit subtle and abstract, but I want to have fewer fears. My vacation was partly burdened by fear of not accomplishing a task expected by a client. All was well in the end and my gut told me it was going to be OK, but I still let the irrational fear side of me dictate my mood and outlook. Fear can be debilitating and I have to learn to roll better with the ups and downs of my business life, and life in general. I think I am already seeing signs that I am making strides in this area.

10. And, there is always a silly one in the end. I want to attend a wedding this year that includes people I really care about. Can that be done? Can it?

A Word About A Would-Be Queen

2008-01-08T23:51:00.000-08:00

Returning from a trip to Texas with dreams of independent candidates shaking up the two-party cartel dancing in my head, New Hampshire voters are offering their own independent minded statement by making Hillary the second coming of the Comeback Kid. While disappointing to me and most of normal thinking Americans, it should make a serious independent bid for the presidency much more likely. And I think that’s a good thing.

Instinct should have dictated that the polls, the pols and news creatures are not to be believed as they were busy working the engine room of the Obama Express; especially when it’s about a Clinton because it’s always about them, and they should have learned that by now. As a result, the prediction of 12-point margins of victory by the man from Jakarta (at least not from Hope) looks more and more like a set-up for a bad actor to steal the show.

Perhaps New Hampshire voters took Clinton’s tears over Obama’s “O” factor. In a world of feelings over thought, it wouldn’t surprise me. But in an electorate that seems to be demanding change – at least I think we are – how did a tantrum and a sad face trump change? If one were to check Lexus Nexus I suspect we would find slightly more than 1 billion uses of the word “change” over the last several months. Nobody is quite sure what it means, naturally, so it’s a great campaigning tool and allows the candidates to put fluff over substance. No need to connect change to a particular policy or have to define the term to the least intellectually curious news media since the Hair-Spray Pavilion was invented.

The message is mixed from New Hampshire as Granite Staters proved hard-headed and stubborn yet again by rejecting one outsider (Obama) for an insider (Hillary) and then accepting a decidedly independent John McCain by larger margins than ever imagined. In the real world, New Hampshire means very little – just three measly Electoral Votes – but in the world of spin it knocks Obama out of the spotlight, costs him donors and loses the momentum that seemed so solid only a week ago. If one can get by the smirk on Hillary’s face, we’ll have to admit she may well be back in the driver’s seat. And I am sure this is a bad thing.

Hillary is the only candidate running on the mantra of change who believes we must find that change in our past. Nobody should expect the slogan “It was morning in America” to resonate, but it seemed to have done just that in New Hampshire (leaving Dixville Notch out of it because they had the good sense to give her no votes).

For those old enough to remember, the Clinton years that Hillary loves to take situational credit for, i.e. taking the good, ignoring the bad, were not exactly the best in American history. She never misses the opportunity to talk about her eight years in the White House and how it gives her the experience to be president. As Dick Morris said, she did spend eight years in the White House, but “so did the pastry chef” and that doesn’t make him capable of running the country.

By any measure Bill was a political savant; intelligent, a quick read on a wide variety of issues and exceptionally charismatic. He was also a highly flawed man with governance ADD and no core and no soul. His chief political strategies James Carville once took a piece of paper and drew a square and pointing in the box remarked, “Where is the hallowed ground?” Hillary appears to be lacking the same slice of hallowed ground due in large part that she got very little of her husband’s attributes and all of his flaws including, indelicately I admit, the part about being a flawed man.

But because we may find ourselves living under a another Clinton administration, we should at least examine what that would look like. It’s not difficult to see who would be joining her administration when you see who’s standing behind her on stage: a veritable who’s who of Bill Clinton has-beens. People like Richard Holbrooke, Madeline Albright and Sandy Berger were in over their heads 16 years ago and there is nothing that has occurred since to demonstrate they have learned anything. While candidates love to run on it’s the economy, stupid (and the economy’s looking pretty stupid at the moment), they end up be being defined and judged on foreign events. Or as Hillary recently noted and by means of demonstrating both her ability to predict and her penchant for stealing good lines, this one from Mario Cuomo, “You campaign with poetry, but you govern with prose.” I suspect she will be ambushed by the prose of knowing nothing about foreign policy.

This is the part that scares me: Holbrooke gave us the war in Serbia, Albright inflamed an already burning situation in Somalia by backing a criminally stupid Boutrous Boutrous-Ghali (why would anyone trust a man with two first names, anyway?) in his personal vendetta against Aidid, leading to an America looking so weak it produced Rwanda and bin Laden’s view that America was a paper tiger, and, finally, Berger who gave men new ideas on how to impress women with things stuffed in their briefs – say, is that a national security document in your pants or are you just glad to see me?

The Clinton gang, particularly in the area of foreign policy, was not ready to lead from Day One and, based on Hillary’s insistance that she is, only makes a stronger case that if she is elected, we will be turning our government over to those who did not learn from earlier on-the-job training. And I am very certain that is a bad thing, particularly in this very dangerous world.

Obviously the primary battle is not over between Obama and Hillary and it is even possible Edwards will have something to say about who becomes the democratic nominee since their primaries don’t engage in winner–take-all voting as is the case with republicans. But I suspect Hillary can taste the power of winning the White House and two things are certain about that fact: anyone who gets in the way of Hillary and her manic lust for power better watch their back (Obama: "Hillary, what are you doing with a shovel and duct tape in your trunk?"); and the more progress she makes toward wrapping up the nomination the more certain a third party candidate will emerge. Mr. Mayor, we could use another hero. Hope you’re listening.

P.S. I know I owe a New Year's resolution post, but one of my resolutions is to go on vacation and write more on my blog. Tonight I wrote this for the blog and tomorrow I go on vacation. That's two down!

Wither Democracy?

2007-12-31T02:08:00.000-08:00

OK, I am probably out of my depth here and running the risk of Google Blog searches sending many unwanted viewers to my sleepy little Blog, but I may as well spout off anyway. This post is about the naïve view of democracy as practiced and shoved at the world by the Bush Administration and others who have turned into political pushers of this drug of majority rule.

The most recent evidence that democracy isn’t for everyone just occurred in Pakistan – or nuclear-armed Pakistan, as the media prefers. Of course we all know about the recent assassination of former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto. Her reason for coming out of exile was due to a grand plan hatched by Condoleezza Rice and the President that was supposed to put a power sharing arrangement in place with Pakistan’s current president, Pervez Musharraf who arrived as president in the decidedly non-democratic manner of leading a military coup and naming himself the leader of the government.

Of course this is where things get dicey because Musharraf is an enemy or our enemy (Al-Qaida) and, as a leader of a huge military, he is seen as something of a stopgap of growth of the terror group. Although he has not been altogether as successful as we would like, he does just enough to keep Washington’s billions headed his way. His willingness to hold elections gained him even more support.

Enter former Prime Minister Bhutto, who became a “former prime minister” after being sent into exile on corruption charges, leaving a mostly hostile country behind but not without at least $20 million to avoid living in exile on a skimpy budget.
American and European meddling forced Musharraf to hold “free and fair” election – a wonderful catch-phrase that doesn’t even work in our own country – and he won a sizeable majority of sitting lawmakers. An independent Supreme Court in Pakistan attempted to nullify the election but Musharraf fired the court and suspended the Constitution for several weeks. It is believed Bhutto declined to run for president because of the power-sharing agreement that was being worked out between her and Musharraf and pushed principally by the U.S. Naturally any agreement put in place that appears to exclude the voters, no matter the amount of international symmetry, was bound to smell to everyday Pakistanis and they viewed it as a deal between a corrupt former prime minister working in concert with a corrupt president. Of course they were likely correct.

All this set the stage for Bhutto to make a triumphant return to Pakistan for what was supposed to be a coronation. Everything seemed to be aligned; the international press, full of press kits from huge PR firms such as the U.S.’s Burson Marsteller (you can’t have a PR firm or a press without press kits), cleaned up her image outside of Pakistan while world leaders rejoiced at their own progressiveness of backing a woman in a male-dominated culture. Someone forgot to include the one million suspects who wanted her stopped at all costs and we had what most real analysts would say was a predictable result. Not only was her murder the second attempt on her life, Musharraf too has been a target, narrowly escaping two assassination attempts, all in Rawalpindi, coincidentally, which happens to be the head of the Pakistani military apparatus. This would be the equivalent of attempting to assassinate a sitting president in the U.S. in the middle of Fort Bragg.

So we have one sacrificed at the altar of democracy and this didn’t need to happen. Bhutto shouldn’t have believed her international press clippings and should have stayed in England as a permanent opposition group, and we shouldn’t have forced democracy on a people who are neither ready for such a form of governance nor ready to be governed, for that matter. I head one Pakistani say the killing of Bhutto was the same as the Kennedy assassination. Maybe to him it was, but I don’t remember a riot breaking out in the streets after Kennedy was shot and I don’t recall 50 people being killed from the civil unrest that’s been pushed by Bhutto supporters. Pakistan, with all its tribal factions among 170 million diverse people probably needs more of a dictator than someone promising a newest pro-democracy phrase, “rule of law.”

Why is what happened in Pakistan so important, I hear you ask before giving up on this messy post? Mainly because pushing democracy on an unsuspecting people has been done before and will be done again, and our Western leadership seems to have learned nothing from it. The Lebanese were pushed into voting for new leadership and the voters gave us a power struggle between two warring terror organizations, Hezbollah and Hamas. The moderates we supported came in third. We wanted free and fair elections in Nicaragua and because of American intervention, we got Daniel Ortega back in power with only 37 percent of the vote. What we was fought with bullets in the Eighties was turned around 20 years later with ballots.

The new weapon of choice of over-the-hill lefties is democracy, not armed conflict. In the past five years, voters have elected Socialist leaders in Venezuela, Bolivia, Ecuador and Mexico. These four countries make up more than 70 percent of our oil imports so we have to be nice even if we don’t like them.

In case you think this is a Bush Administration problem – and it is a big one – this happened under President Clinton too. How many remember the reason we sent the military to Haiti? Jean-Bertrand Aristide won what some say was the first democratic election, which ended the regime of the Duvalier family. Actually the younger Duvalier was, in fact, elected but immediately named himself ruler for life, a good job if you can get it. A well-armed American military re-installed Aristide who quickly lived down to most Haitian leaders, was re-elected in what is largely viewed as a Chicago-style, vote-counting scandal, only to be voted out by a former ally because he had done little to improve the Western Hemisphere’s poorest country. Makes one wonder why we helped in the first place.

Clinton also decided to become indirectly involved in internal Israeli politics by sending U.S. tax dollars to his politicos James Carville and Paul Begala to make sure Ehuad Barak was voted in instead of the strong-willed Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. It seems Clinton couldn’t work a deal between the Israelis and Palestinians and it was having a negative impact on his Nobel Peace Prize chances so he made sure the dance cards were re-arranged. A wimpy Barak eventually made a deal with the devil with the Oslo Peace Accords which ultimately resulted in peace in our time as evidenced by the First and Second Intifada.

Clinton also let Richard Holbrooke try his hand at dictatorship in the Balkans when the spoils of bombing former allies in Serbia allowed us to dictate who held the pink slip on Bosnia, the center of ethnic cleansing from all sides. Holbrooke’s idea – with a lot of help from other idiots – took place in the drafting of the Dayton Accords which said Bosnia would be trifurcated into a Muslim area, a Serb area and a split Muslim and Croat area. Leadership would be supplied by interested Europeans in what is called the Office of the High Representative, which can remove elected leaders from office and pretty much do what he or she wants. It is the only dictatorship in Europe, but don’t ask and don’t tell on that one as nobody involved likes to admit it.

Also out of the Balkans sprang up Kosovo. A district of the former Yugoslav Republic and strongly viewed by Serbs as a historic region of greater Serbia (strong as in willing to go to war to keep it from going independent). The Western world feels sorry for the ethnic Muslim Albanians who lead this tiny region that has no economy and no ability to survive on its own, so it’s forcing independence down the throats of unhappy Serbs. This has led to other breakaway republics around the world anxiously raising their hands and saying, “me too,” despite the fact that wankers like Holbrooke insist Kosovo is not a precedent. Fortunately his involvement in any future government is not a precedent either.

Bush doesn’t have clean hands in ensuring dummies get elected either. We spent what some will admit to be $160 million (probably twice that) to elect leadership-challenged Victor Yushchenko as president merely because he was not pro-Russian. I was there and I am certain that the U.S. government and its European allies stole the election from Viktor Yanukovich, thereby splitting the nation down the middle. All Yushchenko has done since elected is name is 22-year-old son as his economic minister and head for the office around noon where he paints for four hours before returning home. Meanwhile, the country is in the tank. The democracy pushers are very good at fixing elections but fall well-short when help is needed to actually lead a country. It should be no surprise that his approval rating is at 12 percent, up from nine percent after a number of Americans came on the scene to improve his image.

When the U.S. wishes to scold countries around the world for not being democratic enough, it likes to pick on Russia and its neighbor Belarus. We all hear about the evils of Russian President Vladimir Putin, whose personal approval rating is nearly four times that of President Bush. We read in self-important journals that the great former chess players Gary Kasparov has been marching to stem the rolling back of democracy in Russia and his travails are well-chronicled. What is not so well-chronicled is that when he marches, he has fewer than 1,000 supporters and it only looks like more because he marches alongside the neo-Bolsheviks who believe Putin isn’t autocratic enough.

In poor Belarus, where life is relatively safe and stable, U.S. leaders don’t like their president in Alexander Lukaschenko, who has won recent election in Castro-style with almost 90 percent of the vote (strangely American leftists don’t mind such lop-sided elections in Cuba). A New Jersey Congressman named Chris Smith got the “Belarus Democracy Act” passed, which essentially ends economic relations with the country and making them even more dependent on Russia for survival. Essentially a Congressman from a state like New Jersey has told the Belarusian people to vote out their president if they want to do business with us and become a nice puppet for future NATO expansion.

This seems like a good place to finalize the endless sham of democracy. While we do have this Belarus Democracy Act and thunderous media denunciation of President Putin, we seemed to have missed putting in place the Saudi Arabia Democracy Act or the Chinese Democracy Act or even the Azerbaijan Democracy Act. I guess if you sell us oil, give us space to put air bases and produce lead-based toys for our children, you can skip right beyond the need for democracy. And if we Americans don’t like that, we can always have a vote. I think there is one here next November. I wonder if the computer voting screens will be in place by then.