Category Archives: Politics

Time for a Good Blowhard

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Wind from the Sea, Andrew Wyeth, 1947

Wind from the Sea, Andrew Wyeth, 1947

Here I sit tonight in my scriptoria wondering what to write about. I’m wrestling with a bit of writer’s block you see. Read on and see what I came up with.

I declared my portion of Anne’s central hallway painting project done tonight, even if she does not concur. We rehung the doors, which went easier than I thought that it would and reinstalled the ceiling light fixture. Unfortunately, working with the doors created some additional touch-up work for Anne. Sorry about that babes. I put a new extra bright LED bulb in the ceiling fixture and now the central hallway looks very white and very bright, think whiteout conditions. The two-tone wood-paneled doors helps to alleviate this phenomenon a little bit, but not enough. At least Anne will be able to see the little dings that I created, if she wears her sunglasses that is.

I’m sure that you all have noticed the following phenomenon too, whenever you Google something that you might want to buy, because you want to find out more about it that something follows you around the Internet, wherever you may go. We are talking wetsuits and slippers here, a fashion combination that is sure to make a statement no matter where you go. It feels like an invasion of privacy. For Father’s Day, Anne got me a solar cell gizmo for charging cell phones and the like and she was mortified to find ads for such solar cell devices popping up everywhere. She was sure that I would notice them and guess the surprise. What she didn’t know was that I had also Googled these devices and didn’t think twice about seeing the ads. Now that it is after Father’s Day, I just wish that those ads would go away. They are no longer helpful and they make me feel like I’m being spied upon, which I am, but I don’t need the reminder.

Speaking of reminders, I am now getting regular reminders from the Spacely Sprockets law office that my personal information may have been hacked as part of the Office of Personal Management hack. I might have been hacked, but I might not have been hacked, but I probably was hacked and should be extra vigilant and on guard for almost anything, at all times. Maybe they should revisit the terrorist threat levels color wheel of yore and I could forever hover between tangerine and watermelon? Even my beloved Redbirds are getting into the hack act. Heck, according to some LA Times sports writer they are probably responsible for all of this hacking going around.

Haters Gotta Hate

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Pagoda Circle at Dawn

Pagoda Circle at Dawn

Haters got to hate, I just wish that they wouldn’t do it in my town. Pam Geller and her Southern Poverty Law Center certified hate group, the American Freedom Defense Initiative (AFDI) is at it again. Today, Geller announced that 100 billboards have just gone up around Saint Louis that depict the winning cartoon from her Garland, Texas “Draw Muhammad” cartoon contest. This is the same contest that was attacked in April, by two shooters. The drawing depicts a caricature of an angry Prophet Muhammad, waving a sword and shouting “You can’t draw me!” Also illustrated is the artist’s hand holding a pencil with a speech bubble saying “That’s why I draw you”. Additionally, on the billboards is the slogan, “Support Free Speech” and the AFDI logo. With all that Saint Louis has been through this last year, this is the last thing that we need. It is true that depicting the Prophet is perfectly legal under American law, but so then is using the n-word, but that doesn’t mean that you should do either. Both are examples of hate speech. Geller used Breitbart as her mouthpiece and so far this news has remained in the extreme right’s echo chamber, but it is sure to come out in the mainstream media soon. I only heard about it, because I work with people like that. I could have swung by after work and gotten a picture of the one on Banshee, but I chose this more peaceful photo from my morning bike ride in Forest Park instead.

Across the Delmar Divide

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Rise Up As One

Rise Up As One

The Delmar Divide refers to Delmar Boulevard and its role as a racial dividing line in Saint Louis. North of Delmar is predominately black, while south of Delmar is mostly white. Today, we participated in Trailnet’s community bicycle ride, “People, Public Space and Progress Bicycle Tour”. Our guide was Sarah Witt. We biked down to Aloe Plaza, across Market from Union Station, where the ride proper began. Unfortunately, the fountain wasn’t running. There were about twenty of us and for the record, we were all white. Our tour included, but was not limited to Mill Creek Valley, the Ville and the Greater Ville, the Shelly House, Fairgrounds Park, Crown Candy Kitchen and Old North Saint Louis and Pruitt–Igoe.

The residents along the way were friendly, frequently waving of calling out a greeting. One woman walked away with the quote of the day, when she called out to us from her passing car, “You do know that you are in North Saint Louis?” At times, I felt like a voyeur, but as Sarah pointed out later, we were always in public spaces and the only alternative would have been not to go, which would have been worse.

Certainly the most interesting and disturbing sight was Pruitt–Igoe. This was a public housing project that has come to be immortalized by the video of its implosion. Much of the original site has been repurposed, but 33 acres remain unused. In the fifty years since its demolition and clearing, the land has returned to nature and a forest has grown up in it. We walked into it. It is an eerie, scary place and I was glad to be rid of it. I’m sure that it is haunted.

It was back to Aloe Plaza then and the end of the official ride. Afterwards, seven of us, including Sarah, adjourned to Schlafly’s Tap Room for a little refreshment. The cinnamon-vanilla stout was fantastic. Anne and I toddled home after that. This last year has been filled with racial tensions here in Saint Louis. I don’t think that our little bike ride helped very much, but it didn’t hurt.

Getting My Mean On

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My Mean Face

My Mean Face

Harry, has for all that I have known him carries a 3” by 5” index card in his front shirt pocket. He calls it his mind, which when sometimes he misplaces it, we all joke that Harry has lost his mind. It is full of his to do and shopping lists and jotted down things to remember. For five years now, I’ve carried an iPhone in my pocket. Friends and fellow iPhone users call these handy little devices our hand brains, and because they are so good at thoughtfully informing our increasingly aged head brains, it is a wonder now that we could ever have existed without them.

In addition to my hand brain, I also carry my version of Harry’s mind, an index card. So, you could say that I am always of two minds. I do this, because work rules prohibit bring the iPhone into the office, so the old analog method persists. Someday though, the necessity for this dual brain system will disappear and my stack of unused index cards will cease to diminish and begin to gather dust and I will rely totally on my iPhone.

We picked the perfect week for our air-conditioner to die. Monday, Anne texted me, “Das AC is Kaput!” A serviceman had just tried to get it running again, but it appears that the compressor had locked-up. This is always a fatal condition for AC units. This pronouncement launched a frantic campaign to get a new unit installed, hopefully before the mercury climbs this weekend. We are currently enjoying a spate of nice weather. We had three contractors come by and bid, picked one, the same outfit that just did our furnace and then scheduled the install for Thursday. So far, the weatherman has been cool with all this.

“You have to get angry, you have to be MEAN! (Hits Gordon in the balls) You angry now?” – Patches O’Houlihan, Dodgeball

Well, since I’ve trotted out my mean face for this post, I better deliver. Actually, it is Dave’s mean face photo, but I stole it fair and square. Is that mean enough? No, I didn’t think so either. I don’t want to be mean to anyone who might actually read this post, so keep reading folks, because the minute this blog drops off your radar screen that’s when I’ll strike. Threatening the readers, that’s a little bit mean. I could be mean to some of the people at work, at least the ones that don’t read this blog, but lately, I don’t have much to be mean about. Frankly, with every passing day, they seem more and more irrelevant.

I know, Dennis Hastert, politician turned lobbyist, now revealed as a pedophile, I can get my mean on with him, except that the only crime that he has been charged with is trying to circumvent government surveillance. Hello, Uncle Sam, the Patriot Act was so last Sunday. I got it, FIFA President Sepp Blatter, I know I can be mean to him. What a scumbag. While, his house is burning around him, he gets himself reelected and then announces his resignation, but then forgets to name the date. Except that I’m an American, what do I care about soccer? Sorry, Carl, Jay, Rey and all you other readers. I just don’t feel like being really mean today. It is a waste of a great picture though. I guess that when I sat down to write this post, I really was of two minds. Wait, wait, I have an idea. I could recycle this photo whenever I do feel like being mean, then my mean could become a meme.

Leaves of Grass

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Area Closed for Permitted Activities

Area Closed for Permitted Activities

I mowed the lawn, not for the first time this season, but at least for the first real time this year. The first time, I only did a quick and dirty Potemkin mowing, just the front yard and no trimming. This time I did my best on the front yard, but it still looks like a bicyclist’s yard. A bicyclist’s yard always shows neglect, because the bicyclist would rather go riding than gardening. The two activities compete against each other for the cyclist’s time. Consequently, the appearance of his yard suffers.

Tonight, my neighbor across the street was paying off her gardener who has planted her a new front lawn. It looks great, as beautiful as a monoculture can be. Her professional gardener gave me a rather predatory look, as he was walking away and I was still struggling with my mower. I don’t think that such lawns were what Walt Whitman had in mind, when he wrote “Leaves of Grass”, still they are considered the suburban ideal. My neighbor is fortunate, because she is west of me. My crop of dandelions will have a hard time spreading their seed across the street against the prevailing winds, but with all the herbicides that that lawn has on it, she is probably immune anyway. My next door neighbors are not so fortunate.

The backyard was a jungle. Anne prevails upon me to spare the Spring Beauties, when they are in bloom in early spring. I just thought that she would tell me, when it was OK to mow. I guess that she did though, when tonight she commented about how high the grass was back there. I mowed the back forty and did about half the trimming, before the mosquitoes began to descend. The sign with this post is from the front lawn of the Whitehouse, the Ellipse, “Get off my lawn!” Per this year’s Whitehouse Correspondents dinner Obama standup, maybe John McCain is the new groundskeeper?