Galveston is, as previously noted, a beach resort overrun with sandwich shops and open air bars replete with old men sucking on longnecks (beer bottles for my uninitiated sophisticate readership) and gazing lazily toward Cuba. I occupy one of those solitary stools on occasion, and as Pogo might say “I have seen the enemy and it is I.”
#####
Texas tykes have begun another school year, and local news informs that the Texas legislature (the “Lege” made infamous by Molly Ivans and others) has passed a law making it illegal for students to offer teachers gifts in exchange for grades, a practice that was apparently in wide use by youngsters scrambling to avoid being “left behind.” This follows by several years a law mandating that students must have passing grades in at least some of their current courses in order to be eligible for sports (i.e. football).
I have been told that some of the largest sports books outside of Vegas exist for high school football in Pennsylvania and Texas. Lest that seem improbable, I can attest to the absolute chaos that reigned one Friday evening in a Keystone Commonwealth tavern when the cable channel showing a local high school football rivalry suddenly went blank. A car was dispatched (I swear) to the local cable company office half a mile away, and the picture re-appeared some 8 minutes later, likely avoiding miscellaneous bloodletting and sundry carnage.
#####
Update from the age discrimination front: The company that was all over me to manage a major project for them, has, since learning of my high school and college graduation dates, been struck mute. No surprise. CNN and MSNBC cannot mention the name McCain without noting his age. So convoluted has the rhetoric become, that CNN has glommed onto the phrase “oldest non-incumbent to be nominated.” Of course his political affiliation may have also been a factor. In less than 30 minutes of CNN entertainment last evening, the talking head referred to Michele Obama 3 times as “First Lady,” before being reminded that the appellation is premature.
#####
Locals refer to this area simply as Galveston, but with Gustav bearing down on the Gulf, I notice the parlance is shifting to “the island.” With only two paths of egress, the tail end of I-45 across a causeway that intersects the strip, and a ferry to the Bolivar Peninsula on the eastern tip, the term “evacuation” takes on new meaning. A bartender told me that twin sisters Katrina and Rita were responsible for silencing much of the “it won’t run me out, I’m planning a hurricane party” bravado. Gustav has not yet entered the Gulf, but I see lots of 4x8 plywood sheets being whisked about in the beds of F-150s and Silverados.
#####
The plan as of yesterday was to depart “the island” tomorrow on the 3am ferry for the Bolivar peninsula, meander the coast a bit, then catch I-10 for New Orleans and a planned rendezvous with an acquaintance laboring away to erase the lingering remnants of Katrina. Gustav and Hanna may have something to say about that, and at the moment I am drawn to where this all began. If Mother Nature so directs, I will head to Hattiesburg, MS and its strategic (some might say unfortunate) location 75 miles NE of New Orleans, and 75 miles directly north of the Mississippi Gulf Coast where the Girl Scout Hilton awaits, a pavilion behind the Hattiesburg Red Cross building where a ragged collection of volunteers spent 3 weeks sleeping on cots after Katrina.
And so, the next time we meet I will definitely be somewhere else.
The adventure continues…..
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
TEXAS 001
I’m 17’ above sea level, and I know this because the sea is less than 100 yards from my door and there is a 17’ seawall between it and me. At the moment it is raining, pelting actually, and the noise from the roof drowns out the TV. Makes one wonder what a Cat 1 hurricane would sound and feel like.
#####
As a younger man I would typically seek out challenges the more arduous the better, perhaps in an effort to prove myself worthy of some cosmic trial. But now I confess to being drawn to less demanding pursuits, and while watching the Olympics yesterday I may have glommed onto something. While viewing the rowing competition, described as one of the Games most demanding, I noticed the chap in the back with a little megaphone exhorting the actual rowers to ever greater effort. Now I gather the responsibility includes determining and communicating the proper cadence, but I couldn’t help fanaticizing the acquisition of Olympic Gold for aerobic screaming. Something to look into.
#####
My accommodation here in Galveston is a recently converted garage, clean, quiet, funky, dry, with all modern amenities, fully furnished and parking at the door. I walked to the water’s edge and squinting I could almost make out tropical storm Fay gathering steam in the Central Atlantic. During all my previous experience along the Gulf I was under contract to companies that promised “swift and early” evacuation, although this was never necessary. This time I’m on my own, and separated from the mainland by a causeway, which causes me to think ahead, hence perhaps the name.
#####
Pedagogical gurus fret over the likelihood that youngsters using calculators will eventually lose the ability to perform manual calculations, a result that may or may not hasten the downfall of civilization. In a similar vein I fear that if deprived of my vehicle GPS, I might enter a spiral of perpetual geographic confusion, and fall victim to the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle.
My fancy, expensive Garmin (which became much less expensive the very week after I bought it) sped me breezily around a Dallas rush hour accident that completely closed I-45, and led me through some convoluted and poorly marked spaghetti in Houston. I am indebted to the lady in the box, who instead of admonishing me when I accidently or purposely ignore an instruction (no “make an immediate U-turn” scolding), simply and pleasantly says “recalculating.” Would that those around me were as understanding of my deficiencies.
#####
I’ve been warned about Texans by a close acquaintance charged with serving the needs of vacationing Lone Star residents, but so far no great evil has befallen me. They’re not very good spellers (I actually passed the “Cavalry” Baptist Church) and they do have some odd road signs, including one appearing every few miles that warns “State law requires that all warning signs be obeyed.” Glad they clarified that for me. And I have noticed a tendency for some (I assume out-of-staters) to add an extra “s” to the State name, likely a political commentary on the populace.
#####
Most folks I’ve met along the planet’s byways are rather inarticulate in describing their political proclivities. Liberals talk in generalities about justice for all of humanity and saving the earth, to which conservatives respond “tree huggers and bleeding hearts.” The right professes to promote individual responsibility and personal freedom, which the left dismisses as the “haves” screwing the “have-nots”.
My own conservative leanings were molded on the belief that however well-intentioned, government has a well developed knack for bollixing things more than the forces of nature originally designed. My own decade as a federal bureaucrat solidified these feelings, and as time passes I am greeted with a continuum of examples that confirm these inclinations.
Government efforts to stamp out discrimination of every stripe provide a wealth of illustrations. Efforts to eliminate age discrimination are a relatively new phenomenon, and arrived on the scene just in time for me, as before entering my 7th decade I always seemed to have more opportunities than the time to execute them, but afterward I was left in a wasteland of “don’t call us, we’ll call you” responses.
In recent times I encountered two instances of age discrimination so egregious and well documented I felt they were slam-dunks, at least until George Tenant forever trashed that sobriquet. I pursued neither, preserving a life-long track record of neither bringing suit nor being successfully sued (though several have tried).
Besides the federal government, every state and most local jurisdictions of reasonable size proudly sport an EEOC, while most NGOs and many companies feature the equivalent. In the “age” arena they boast of federal and state statues forbidding (on pain of severe punishment) employers from asking applicants their date of birth.
But I am now engaged in a mating ritual with a company that claims to have great interest in my services, and the last hurdle they require of me is to specify the exact month and year of my graduation from high school and college. Now it has occurred to me that they may have actuarial talent on staff that could invoke some complex algorithm to elucidate what my government has taken great pains to protect me from divulging. All perfectly legal.
I’m told that Asian cultures revere age as much as western society distains it. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time.
#####
Were I to seek a Masters in Sports Medicine, my thesis would be titled: "Comparison of jogging in 60 degree weather at 10,500’ and at sea level in 90+ heat and 100% humidity". Research would be concise and conclusion as to preference terse: “Neither.”
#####
Mother Nature often seems intent on pursuing an equal opportunity posture, and is at the moment steering Fay through Florida and away from Texas where Dolly and Eduard made landfall. But some are now calling for the lady to enter the Atlantic, gain strength, then turn left and rumble through the panhandle and possibly the Texas Gulf coast. Film at 11.
…the adventure continues
#####
As a younger man I would typically seek out challenges the more arduous the better, perhaps in an effort to prove myself worthy of some cosmic trial. But now I confess to being drawn to less demanding pursuits, and while watching the Olympics yesterday I may have glommed onto something. While viewing the rowing competition, described as one of the Games most demanding, I noticed the chap in the back with a little megaphone exhorting the actual rowers to ever greater effort. Now I gather the responsibility includes determining and communicating the proper cadence, but I couldn’t help fanaticizing the acquisition of Olympic Gold for aerobic screaming. Something to look into.
#####
My accommodation here in Galveston is a recently converted garage, clean, quiet, funky, dry, with all modern amenities, fully furnished and parking at the door. I walked to the water’s edge and squinting I could almost make out tropical storm Fay gathering steam in the Central Atlantic. During all my previous experience along the Gulf I was under contract to companies that promised “swift and early” evacuation, although this was never necessary. This time I’m on my own, and separated from the mainland by a causeway, which causes me to think ahead, hence perhaps the name.
#####
Pedagogical gurus fret over the likelihood that youngsters using calculators will eventually lose the ability to perform manual calculations, a result that may or may not hasten the downfall of civilization. In a similar vein I fear that if deprived of my vehicle GPS, I might enter a spiral of perpetual geographic confusion, and fall victim to the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle.
My fancy, expensive Garmin (which became much less expensive the very week after I bought it) sped me breezily around a Dallas rush hour accident that completely closed I-45, and led me through some convoluted and poorly marked spaghetti in Houston. I am indebted to the lady in the box, who instead of admonishing me when I accidently or purposely ignore an instruction (no “make an immediate U-turn” scolding), simply and pleasantly says “recalculating.” Would that those around me were as understanding of my deficiencies.
#####
I’ve been warned about Texans by a close acquaintance charged with serving the needs of vacationing Lone Star residents, but so far no great evil has befallen me. They’re not very good spellers (I actually passed the “Cavalry” Baptist Church) and they do have some odd road signs, including one appearing every few miles that warns “State law requires that all warning signs be obeyed.” Glad they clarified that for me. And I have noticed a tendency for some (I assume out-of-staters) to add an extra “s” to the State name, likely a political commentary on the populace.
#####
Most folks I’ve met along the planet’s byways are rather inarticulate in describing their political proclivities. Liberals talk in generalities about justice for all of humanity and saving the earth, to which conservatives respond “tree huggers and bleeding hearts.” The right professes to promote individual responsibility and personal freedom, which the left dismisses as the “haves” screwing the “have-nots”.
My own conservative leanings were molded on the belief that however well-intentioned, government has a well developed knack for bollixing things more than the forces of nature originally designed. My own decade as a federal bureaucrat solidified these feelings, and as time passes I am greeted with a continuum of examples that confirm these inclinations.
Government efforts to stamp out discrimination of every stripe provide a wealth of illustrations. Efforts to eliminate age discrimination are a relatively new phenomenon, and arrived on the scene just in time for me, as before entering my 7th decade I always seemed to have more opportunities than the time to execute them, but afterward I was left in a wasteland of “don’t call us, we’ll call you” responses.
In recent times I encountered two instances of age discrimination so egregious and well documented I felt they were slam-dunks, at least until George Tenant forever trashed that sobriquet. I pursued neither, preserving a life-long track record of neither bringing suit nor being successfully sued (though several have tried).
Besides the federal government, every state and most local jurisdictions of reasonable size proudly sport an EEOC, while most NGOs and many companies feature the equivalent. In the “age” arena they boast of federal and state statues forbidding (on pain of severe punishment) employers from asking applicants their date of birth.
But I am now engaged in a mating ritual with a company that claims to have great interest in my services, and the last hurdle they require of me is to specify the exact month and year of my graduation from high school and college. Now it has occurred to me that they may have actuarial talent on staff that could invoke some complex algorithm to elucidate what my government has taken great pains to protect me from divulging. All perfectly legal.
I’m told that Asian cultures revere age as much as western society distains it. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time.
#####
Were I to seek a Masters in Sports Medicine, my thesis would be titled: "Comparison of jogging in 60 degree weather at 10,500’ and at sea level in 90+ heat and 100% humidity". Research would be concise and conclusion as to preference terse: “Neither.”
#####
Mother Nature often seems intent on pursuing an equal opportunity posture, and is at the moment steering Fay through Florida and away from Texas where Dolly and Eduard made landfall. But some are now calling for the lady to enter the Atlantic, gain strength, then turn left and rumble through the panhandle and possibly the Texas Gulf coast. Film at 11.
…the adventure continues
Saturday, August 9, 2008
COLORADO 002
High intrigue on the free local bus. A (very) ragged person taking his good time ambling aboard was admonished by the driver to expedite the process. Words were exchanged, and as the bus was departing the station, driver slammed on his breaks and demanded VRP’s immediate exodus.
VRP refused, and in fact suggested, rather politely, that if driver could not treat his passengers civilly, it was he who should exit the vehicle. Driver then radioed his supervisor to summon the authorities, and departed the bus, leaving motor running.
Then things got interesting. VRP, sensing an opening, leapt up and slipped into the driver’s seat, emitting a maniacal cackle. Several brave souls (female) determined this should not pass, and cleverly created a diversion by shrieking at the perp (now no longer a passenger) the Spanish equivalent “Oh my god, he’s going to kill us all.” Distracted perp jumps up and makes a very unwise move. Instead of bolting the scene he heads for the driver with fists clenched and obscenities sputtering.
Willy Sutton would have been jealous. Three local police cars and 2 sheriff’s vehicles descend on the scene, and it soon appears that this is not just one of your typical “$750,000 fine and 16-years in jail” capers. It seems that his brief stint in the driver’s seat has escalated the offence to busjacking (notwithstanding the absence of vehicle movement). Virtually ignoring the perp, who by now is beginning to twig that his outburst is being taken far more seriously than he thought possible, the assembled constabulary pull out rule books and begin a heated debate on what charges to levy.
Then I see perp, who had been standing with hands behind his back virtually begging to be manacled, looking furtively at his backpack lying on the ground near the group. He edges closer, but alas, just before he executes a snatch and split, one of the keen-eyed cops spots the feint and orders him to the ground. Uncharacteristically, I found myself rooting for the perp, to no avail.
I suspect that in Summit County a bank robbery warrants calling out the National Guard.
#####
High intrigue, Part Deux. Some weeks ago, the Denver Water Commission, which controls a monster dam in Summit County, closed the well-traveled Dam Road one midnight without advance warning to citizenry or local officials. The road is all of 3 miles long, and I-70 runs parallel with convenient exits at either end. But locals rose in high dudgeon, and everyone from the Governor to the Girl Scouts weighed in. Unspecified “security concerns” were cited for the closure. Fever pitch was reached when the local Fire Chief tried having the Water Commission Director jailed for “blocking an essential emergency route.”
I am happy to report the road has now re-opened from 6am to 10pm (perhaps on the theory that terrorists prefer darkness, 911 notwithstanding). Police, at $42/hour overtime, according to the local paper, stand at each end watching traffic whiz by, stopping the occasional truck for a peak inside. But erring on the side of caution, 18-wheelers over 13,000 pounds GVW are banned.
Water rights in the west are serious business. Historical footnote: When the dam was constructed in the late 1940’s it displaced the entire existing town of Dillon, which re-emerged several miles away, with many of the original structures jacked-up and hauled to their new location.
#####
I suspect a lack of scientific validation, but on the theory that hurricanes, like lightning, tend not to strike twice in the same place, I have elected to follow Edouard to Galveston, TX., the island south of Houston directly on the Gulf. My digs will be less than 100 yards (100 meters, give or take, for my International readers) from the beach, yet behind a 17 ft. seawall designed to keep the waters in their place. The move will put me closer to likely carnage, now that it is fairly obvious that the Midwest has decided it can recover from spring flooding without my help.
#####
In the midst of my physical and mental preparation for the descent to sea level, the John Edwards “sex scandal” broke. Although it does seem these days, at last among politicians, those NOT accused of infidelity are the exception. The only aspect I find odd is the stampede among liberal Democrats to condemn the indiscretion. It may be the early Alzheimer’s, but for the life of me I can’t recall similar liberal outrage over the Clinton peccadilloes. One expects the opposition to gloat and posture, but the Democrat Party faithful were tripping over themselves to voice their outrage. Perhaps it’s the embarrassment over the timing, with the Convention near upon us. Or sympathy for his cancer-stricken wife and small children. Or could it be that morality is taking hold inside the Beltway? Naaah.
I’m off, down the mountain, across the plains, and toward the sea. The next time we meet I will be somewhere else.
The adventure continues…
VRP refused, and in fact suggested, rather politely, that if driver could not treat his passengers civilly, it was he who should exit the vehicle. Driver then radioed his supervisor to summon the authorities, and departed the bus, leaving motor running.
Then things got interesting. VRP, sensing an opening, leapt up and slipped into the driver’s seat, emitting a maniacal cackle. Several brave souls (female) determined this should not pass, and cleverly created a diversion by shrieking at the perp (now no longer a passenger) the Spanish equivalent “Oh my god, he’s going to kill us all.” Distracted perp jumps up and makes a very unwise move. Instead of bolting the scene he heads for the driver with fists clenched and obscenities sputtering.
Willy Sutton would have been jealous. Three local police cars and 2 sheriff’s vehicles descend on the scene, and it soon appears that this is not just one of your typical “$750,000 fine and 16-years in jail” capers. It seems that his brief stint in the driver’s seat has escalated the offence to busjacking (notwithstanding the absence of vehicle movement). Virtually ignoring the perp, who by now is beginning to twig that his outburst is being taken far more seriously than he thought possible, the assembled constabulary pull out rule books and begin a heated debate on what charges to levy.
Then I see perp, who had been standing with hands behind his back virtually begging to be manacled, looking furtively at his backpack lying on the ground near the group. He edges closer, but alas, just before he executes a snatch and split, one of the keen-eyed cops spots the feint and orders him to the ground. Uncharacteristically, I found myself rooting for the perp, to no avail.
I suspect that in Summit County a bank robbery warrants calling out the National Guard.
#####
High intrigue, Part Deux. Some weeks ago, the Denver Water Commission, which controls a monster dam in Summit County, closed the well-traveled Dam Road one midnight without advance warning to citizenry or local officials. The road is all of 3 miles long, and I-70 runs parallel with convenient exits at either end. But locals rose in high dudgeon, and everyone from the Governor to the Girl Scouts weighed in. Unspecified “security concerns” were cited for the closure. Fever pitch was reached when the local Fire Chief tried having the Water Commission Director jailed for “blocking an essential emergency route.”
I am happy to report the road has now re-opened from 6am to 10pm (perhaps on the theory that terrorists prefer darkness, 911 notwithstanding). Police, at $42/hour overtime, according to the local paper, stand at each end watching traffic whiz by, stopping the occasional truck for a peak inside. But erring on the side of caution, 18-wheelers over 13,000 pounds GVW are banned.
Water rights in the west are serious business. Historical footnote: When the dam was constructed in the late 1940’s it displaced the entire existing town of Dillon, which re-emerged several miles away, with many of the original structures jacked-up and hauled to their new location.
#####
I suspect a lack of scientific validation, but on the theory that hurricanes, like lightning, tend not to strike twice in the same place, I have elected to follow Edouard to Galveston, TX., the island south of Houston directly on the Gulf. My digs will be less than 100 yards (100 meters, give or take, for my International readers) from the beach, yet behind a 17 ft. seawall designed to keep the waters in their place. The move will put me closer to likely carnage, now that it is fairly obvious that the Midwest has decided it can recover from spring flooding without my help.
#####
In the midst of my physical and mental preparation for the descent to sea level, the John Edwards “sex scandal” broke. Although it does seem these days, at last among politicians, those NOT accused of infidelity are the exception. The only aspect I find odd is the stampede among liberal Democrats to condemn the indiscretion. It may be the early Alzheimer’s, but for the life of me I can’t recall similar liberal outrage over the Clinton peccadilloes. One expects the opposition to gloat and posture, but the Democrat Party faithful were tripping over themselves to voice their outrage. Perhaps it’s the embarrassment over the timing, with the Convention near upon us. Or sympathy for his cancer-stricken wife and small children. Or could it be that morality is taking hold inside the Beltway? Naaah.
I’m off, down the mountain, across the plains, and toward the sea. The next time we meet I will be somewhere else.
The adventure continues…
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