Yes, I am back. No more enlightened than before and certainly not additionally inspired or inspiring, but here just the same. Apparently things have deteriorated horribly in my absence as politics have In the middle of this cesspool of a presidential campaign I can no longer hold my tongue. But I will be brief.
President Obama, otherwise a fine family man, is a trainwreck of a President. He has no discernable leadership skills other than to amass political accolades. What he doesn't realize, and what most others also don't seem to realize, is that he was swept into office riding a tidal wave of White Guilt and desire to be a part of an historical first. He gave a good speech but had no new ideas, no concrete agenda to get America out of the economic abyss into which it had sank in 2009. No one seemed to notice this. No one heard him hammer away at government controlled health care as his number-one job if elected. But he didn't win in '08 on his ideas. He won because he gave folks a chance to get a cut of history and absolve themselves of racial self-loathing.
Well we got what we paid for. Nothing has been done that a junior economics major could identify as progress toward righting the ship of commerce. Not one thing. And the Obama team knows it and doesn't dare claim that you're better off now than four years ago. (Notice how fast that has disappeared out of the news cycle?) But we do have a minority president. And he DID tell the Seals to take out Bin Ladin, but much time was spent at the Democratic Convention spiking the ball about this. After the behavior of the Libyans, Egyptians, and other nations' radicals this past ten days, I'd guess they were a little to smug about it.
Here comes Romney/Ryan, squeaky-clean and indeed full of specifics to help the economy. If you missed them, they were well-covered at the convention. Are they tying the can of failure to Obama's tail? No, they aren't, and that's what they should be doing every day. Remind people who aren't radical Democrats that--Hell NO-- they are not better off than four years ago and are losing ground every month. It's that simple. But they're spending precious time trying to tell us how much better they'll be, which is a waste. They need to fire point-blank away at Obama's lack of leadership.
This election is not about Mitt Romney. It's a referendum on Obama. On how he led a friendly congress to ram a questionable health care act through committees and into votes without any debate, critical examination or dialogue which the Democrats would have howled over had this happened to them. But it didn't and a friendly press has covered their backs all the way. It's a referendum on four years of neglect of the economy, which that friendly congress would have helped the President repair any way he wanted. But then it's a referendum on his in-denial stimulus program that spent untold billions, accomplishing only a laundering of borrowed Chinese money much of which found its way to Obama coffers. (Remember Solyndra, and the other "Green" failings?) It's a referendum on the Obama Blame America First Apology tour. This is Barack Obama's report card.
He says he gets an Incomplete. I say he needs to change his major.
As usual the Democrats have only the old, hackneyed ideas to offer: more money for education, raise taxes on the rich, cut military spending, increase entitlement spending, yada, yada, yada. As usual, they operate politics of personal destruction, attacking the candidates themselves as well as their issues. All kinds of insulting websites and Facebook pages are in full Blue-State vogue, as only the Democrats can do. I am sure there are at least a few Republican counter parts but they just aren't good at this.
That's enough. Maybe this wasn't as brief as it should have been. I just had to get this out in the open. Sometimes the 300-pound gorilla in the middle of the room has to be pointed out to your dinner guests.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Hang Up and Drive
The incredible velocity of passing time has overtaken me again. A steady stream of remodeling, work, visitors, little league football and more remodeling left me with little opportunity for posts.
With that in mind and with the lateness of the hour I will post only this:
People of Kansas City; Independence, Lee's Summit and elsewhere in this metropolis--Please drive your cars. You took the trouble to get out on the street so act like you know what you're doing. Hang up your cell phones, put down the makeup and take control of your automobiles. Please drive the speed limit. Please drive away when the light turns from red to green. (Green is not the color signal for contemplation or ringing up a consort. It means GO!) Please use your turn signals to indicate your intentions. And please recognize that my turn signal isn't a plea for permission to change lanes; it is a courtesy required in this society to let you know I am moving over in front of you.
Inevitably on a busy street there will be a line of trundling cars with a person (most often a woman, sorry ladies) in the lead chatting away in an obviously engaging conversation on a mobile phone. All too often she is also trying to manage a cigarette. This must end, or lawlessness may ensue. I have been in too many of those processions at ten MPH under the limit with a STAT delivery and found it painfully slow to work my way up to open road. Again I say: Hang up and drive. And crush out the smokes if you can't see the road out there through the fog of your Camels or Marlboros.
Thank you for your support.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
August Plaza Follies and TKC
An interesting few days have passed. The Plaza is a war zone and the most powerful labor leader in the city appears to fear the comments of a local blogger.
Just when you think the heat has leveled out everything for a while, unruly mobs return to the Plaza and this time-with the Mayor as an observer-three children are wounded by gang-warfare gunfire. Most of a week has passed and the only result of all this is a lukewarm committment to a nine PM curfew.
All this churns up a few questions. Some have been addressed heavily on local radio talk forums; some less so: (1) Where is Plaza security? Owner Highwoods had a shot across the bow last year with a violent flash-mob and should have been aware of the giant bulls-eye on their property from that point forward. Since that was well over a year ago they have enjoyed adequate prep time to hire some private security people rather than lean on the police department to bail them out. Didn't get the message, I guess. Gee, what would J. C. Nichols have done to protect this wonderful jewel? Time to get a Philly-style Curfew Bus in the parking lot behind the Classic Cup. Highwoods, you are going to have to spend some of the high-rent money you've squeezed from your tenants to protect them and their customers. And ultimately, yourself.
(2) What in the world are street gangs doing on the Plaza? I doubt the local gang-bangers are eating at Starker's or the Cheesecake Factory, or doing a lot of high-end shopping at Restoration Hardware. Or maybe they are, I don't know. This one falls on the PD. They need to encourage gangs to conduct their retributions over on the greenway along Cleaver II, far away from homes and businesses.
(3) Where is condemnation (STRONG condemnation) from local minority leaders, calling for an end to unsupervised sons and daughters? The mobs were largely minority ''youtes'' apparently left to wander the area by parents, guardians, older sibs, etc. What the leaders give us is largely silence, broken only by beleagured activist Alvin Brooks who seemed indignant about the characterization of the lawless crowd as a "mob" in a radio interview. The mayor purports to be upset but no one has been body-slammed over this yet. NOTE: a few regular folks have called the talk shows, and demanded that local minorities begin to own this issue of non-parenting. Year after year it has languished, passed off as another product of the ''victim'' mentality with minority leaders (holding their own blameless) milking the governments as the only approved solution--reparations, of a sort.
A nine-o'clock curfew isn't a body-slam. Put their driver's licenses on the block. Give them public service in orange jumpsuits on weekends, perhaps cutting weeds along freeway fences. (Kansas City is dreadfully overgrown and un-manicured.) This is a chance for the mayor to make his mark. If he crafts a forceful, positive solution and butts heads with these entrenched local minority leaders he will be a hero. If not, and the Plaza--along with other venues--falls to the feral mobs, Sly will go the way of Funk.
Then there is Tony's KC, an entertaining blog which--refreshingly--calls it like it is. Citing tipsters which implicate Firefighters' Union president Louis Wright in a kickback scheme, Tony is now named in a defamation lawsuit.
Understandably Wright is interested in clearing his name but it almost seems he doth protest too much. As Tony suggested during a radio interview, why hasn't Wright simply demanded Tony publish a retraction? Well-read as it may be, TKC isn't so pervasive as to destroy Wright's reputation, or cause widespread contempt. People that respected Wright before this broke will continue to do so, and those who think he's a jerk will revel in it but, it seems absurd that Wright would be remotely involved in any such enterprise. A retraction would have reached the same readers who saw the original story. Wright has suffered no job loss or economic deprivation from all this, and by filing the suit has actually widened the spread of his own accusations. Public figures, alas, have to endure a few randow arrows.
And since Tony runs a blog, not an op-ed column, Wright could have offered a rebuttal in the comment section. TKC takes all the rocks people care to throw and Wright's well-crafted reply would have been a most effective move on his own behalf. Now he appears to be the fat-cat political boss sitting on the exercise of free speech, regardless of the folly in the content. At least, that's how it looks to me.
Just when you think the heat has leveled out everything for a while, unruly mobs return to the Plaza and this time-with the Mayor as an observer-three children are wounded by gang-warfare gunfire. Most of a week has passed and the only result of all this is a lukewarm committment to a nine PM curfew.
All this churns up a few questions. Some have been addressed heavily on local radio talk forums; some less so: (1) Where is Plaza security? Owner Highwoods had a shot across the bow last year with a violent flash-mob and should have been aware of the giant bulls-eye on their property from that point forward. Since that was well over a year ago they have enjoyed adequate prep time to hire some private security people rather than lean on the police department to bail them out. Didn't get the message, I guess. Gee, what would J. C. Nichols have done to protect this wonderful jewel? Time to get a Philly-style Curfew Bus in the parking lot behind the Classic Cup. Highwoods, you are going to have to spend some of the high-rent money you've squeezed from your tenants to protect them and their customers. And ultimately, yourself.
(2) What in the world are street gangs doing on the Plaza? I doubt the local gang-bangers are eating at Starker's or the Cheesecake Factory, or doing a lot of high-end shopping at Restoration Hardware. Or maybe they are, I don't know. This one falls on the PD. They need to encourage gangs to conduct their retributions over on the greenway along Cleaver II, far away from homes and businesses.
(3) Where is condemnation (STRONG condemnation) from local minority leaders, calling for an end to unsupervised sons and daughters? The mobs were largely minority ''youtes'' apparently left to wander the area by parents, guardians, older sibs, etc. What the leaders give us is largely silence, broken only by beleagured activist Alvin Brooks who seemed indignant about the characterization of the lawless crowd as a "mob" in a radio interview. The mayor purports to be upset but no one has been body-slammed over this yet. NOTE: a few regular folks have called the talk shows, and demanded that local minorities begin to own this issue of non-parenting. Year after year it has languished, passed off as another product of the ''victim'' mentality with minority leaders (holding their own blameless) milking the governments as the only approved solution--reparations, of a sort.
A nine-o'clock curfew isn't a body-slam. Put their driver's licenses on the block. Give them public service in orange jumpsuits on weekends, perhaps cutting weeds along freeway fences. (Kansas City is dreadfully overgrown and un-manicured.) This is a chance for the mayor to make his mark. If he crafts a forceful, positive solution and butts heads with these entrenched local minority leaders he will be a hero. If not, and the Plaza--along with other venues--falls to the feral mobs, Sly will go the way of Funk.
Then there is Tony's KC, an entertaining blog which--refreshingly--calls it like it is. Citing tipsters which implicate Firefighters' Union president Louis Wright in a kickback scheme, Tony is now named in a defamation lawsuit.
Understandably Wright is interested in clearing his name but it almost seems he doth protest too much. As Tony suggested during a radio interview, why hasn't Wright simply demanded Tony publish a retraction? Well-read as it may be, TKC isn't so pervasive as to destroy Wright's reputation, or cause widespread contempt. People that respected Wright before this broke will continue to do so, and those who think he's a jerk will revel in it but, it seems absurd that Wright would be remotely involved in any such enterprise. A retraction would have reached the same readers who saw the original story. Wright has suffered no job loss or economic deprivation from all this, and by filing the suit has actually widened the spread of his own accusations. Public figures, alas, have to endure a few randow arrows.
And since Tony runs a blog, not an op-ed column, Wright could have offered a rebuttal in the comment section. TKC takes all the rocks people care to throw and Wright's well-crafted reply would have been a most effective move on his own behalf. Now he appears to be the fat-cat political boss sitting on the exercise of free speech, regardless of the folly in the content. At least, that's how it looks to me.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Hot
Yeah, it's hot. No one knows that better than I. I know it better than all the talking TV heads that pretend to be your parents, urging you to drink lots of water and wear light colored clothing because I am out there in it all afternoon long.
They also urge you to take lots of breaks, and I keep wondering how many foremen or crew chiefs have been informed that "Larry Moore told me it's OK to take an extra break, 'cause it's hot," as an employee wanders off to sit down under a tree.
All that aside, does anyone remember the summer of 1980? We didn't have high nineties and low hundreds. There were 17 days of 108 or better, and other days of lesser but still high temperatures, besting the heat we are sagging from this past week. I remember that summer, and how hot the ramp was at the airport, and how heavy the radio seemed that we had to carry and how ineffective the air conditioning in each airplane was against the wall of hot air outside. I had to wear a white dress shirt, a tie, and try to look presentable, finally going home soaked through and through. And I remember that each day was just like the one before with no end in sight.
That went on for weeks and weeks and still wasn't as hot or unpleasant as the summers of 1934 and 1936 which were hot and dusty. Add to that, there was very little air conditioning employed in those days. Not many heat warnings, advisories and excessive heat alerts either. How did the people survive?
Global warming? Well, yeah, the globe is warmer, at least right around here. Look around, the glaciers are gone. They were gone before we had cars, coal-fired electric power plants and Al Gore--possibly the largest source of heat pollution around. Yeah it's hot. It's been hot before and will be hot again. It will be cold again too. Something else to remember: How much we bitched and moaned about how cold it was five and six months ago. Conjure that up--and enjoy the heat.
They also urge you to take lots of breaks, and I keep wondering how many foremen or crew chiefs have been informed that "Larry Moore told me it's OK to take an extra break, 'cause it's hot," as an employee wanders off to sit down under a tree.
All that aside, does anyone remember the summer of 1980? We didn't have high nineties and low hundreds. There were 17 days of 108 or better, and other days of lesser but still high temperatures, besting the heat we are sagging from this past week. I remember that summer, and how hot the ramp was at the airport, and how heavy the radio seemed that we had to carry and how ineffective the air conditioning in each airplane was against the wall of hot air outside. I had to wear a white dress shirt, a tie, and try to look presentable, finally going home soaked through and through. And I remember that each day was just like the one before with no end in sight.
That went on for weeks and weeks and still wasn't as hot or unpleasant as the summers of 1934 and 1936 which were hot and dusty. Add to that, there was very little air conditioning employed in those days. Not many heat warnings, advisories and excessive heat alerts either. How did the people survive?
Global warming? Well, yeah, the globe is warmer, at least right around here. Look around, the glaciers are gone. They were gone before we had cars, coal-fired electric power plants and Al Gore--possibly the largest source of heat pollution around. Yeah it's hot. It's been hot before and will be hot again. It will be cold again too. Something else to remember: How much we bitched and moaned about how cold it was five and six months ago. Conjure that up--and enjoy the heat.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Independence
After more than three months absent from the blog, it's long past time for more of my mediocre observations. Being broke and friendless, and working once again in an entry-level job tends to lessen the passion for sharing slices of life. Then the realization occurs that it is, nonetheless, life. So here goes.
Today's observation, in the aftermath of the failed rapture prediction and in the wake of the horrific tornadoes in Reading and Joplin is: Independence. Of course, what else?
Driving around the city as I do in my new job, I have observed that each city and neighborhood has its own feel, or personality. Hyde Park, for instance, is rich in large, beautiful residences--once, and still, home of many city leaders in commerce and government; a pleasant mix of races, lifestyles, shops with no evident fear of the depression which lies just east of Paseo. It's an in-your-face confrontation with urban decay, right there on the front lines.
But most of my workday is in Independence, best known as the origin of the Santa Fe, Oregon and California trails by which the early West was populated. It is equally famous as the home of Harry Truman, whose life has been thoroughly seized by the Chamber of Commerce for promotional considerations.
Independence is a blue-collar town. Many neighborhoods are full of small, well-kept homes in which the owners have refused to abandon their "inner city" to the "we buy ugly houses" promoters. The yards are often overgrown and many side streets have no curbs or sidewalks but Independence has refused to give in to blight. I suspect the average age of home owners there is pretty high and wonder what will happen as the properties begin to come up for sale when age forces residents to apartments and nursing homes, but for now it's solid as a rock.
Aside from the trails and Truman attractions, the dominant industry in Independence looks to be tattoo parlors. I counted six in a three-mile expanse of 23rd Street. The residents seem to reflect this and support it as many people you encounter are covered in ink, with varying degrees of artistic appeal. Behind tattooing, discount smoke shops are everywhere and do a land-office business, reflecting Missouri's high incidence of smoking (25 percent of adults, a rate exceeded only by three other states). In third place, fast food looks to be the winner with a Taco Bell at least every 4000 liner feet. Fast food is way more popular than fresh food, judging by the infrequency of supermarkets and the long lines at drive-thru windows.
Independence is known locally as "Meth-dependence" in honor of the local industry which the Chamber of Commerce seldom mentions. Small, inexpensive homes in quiet neighborhoods have drawn methamphetamine cookers in disproportionate numbers, to bedevil the local authorities and keep the supply lines short. I guess all those tattoo-ed folks driving around in beat up old cars are that way for a reason.
But still, this is a pleasant town. I see many children out riding their bikes and chasing each other on the quiet streets and across tended lawns. In these warmer, longer evenings, homes with front porches draw neighbors up for a chat. Walkers are everywhere, old and less old alike. It looks a lot like small-town America that played well on TV in the Fifties and Sixties. You won't see Donna Reed anywhere; she has gained some weight and ink, and taken up smoking. Still it seems a lot like my small-town hometown in Kansas, and much less like a little urban brother to Kansas City.
Not to say there aren't problems here. Other than the meth concern, you need only wait five minutes on any street before a IPD black-and-white cruiser roars by under lights and siren en route to some lawlessness. It is, after all, a city of over a hundred thousand souls. And it is the true county seat of Jackson County. The courthouse is square in the middle of town, and what is known as the "Jail Annex" is only two blocks away. Larger counterparts do much more business in Kansas City but this is the Real McCoy.
Independence is the only city in which I have personally seen a store-front casket shop. Proudly displayed in the window are coffins of varying styles and colors, in case you're having problems finding just the right one. Don't know just how much walk-in business they get, but it has been there a while now and must be profitable. We didn't have anything like that in my small-town hometown in Kansas.
The crown jewel of Independence is the annual "Santa-Cali-Gon" festival over Labor Day weekend. A carnival moves into downtown and hordes of crafts booths, T-shirt vendors and some of the greatest food hawkers ever set up shop along the sidewalks. "Ye Old Corn Hole" sells hot corn on the cob. Others sell amazing french fries (yes, they are fantastic), funnel cakes, burgers, onion rings, fried pickles and pies. In the evenings, there is usually a concert and dancing in the street. Early September is still very much summer, but these people are unmoved in their determination to celebrate.
What exactly they celebrate is unknown to me. Could it be the history living in the Trails? Or perhaps Harry Truman, whose silhouette adorns every street corner? Maybe they fete the Sheriff's deputies for their accrued meth busts since the last Santa-Cali-Gon, I don't know. But when city living tends to jade one's senses it is refreshing to see folks just celebrating. And I kind of wonder if they are just celebrating living in Independence. You could do a lot worse. You could do a lot worse in Missouri.
Today's observation, in the aftermath of the failed rapture prediction and in the wake of the horrific tornadoes in Reading and Joplin is: Independence. Of course, what else?
Driving around the city as I do in my new job, I have observed that each city and neighborhood has its own feel, or personality. Hyde Park, for instance, is rich in large, beautiful residences--once, and still, home of many city leaders in commerce and government; a pleasant mix of races, lifestyles, shops with no evident fear of the depression which lies just east of Paseo. It's an in-your-face confrontation with urban decay, right there on the front lines.
But most of my workday is in Independence, best known as the origin of the Santa Fe, Oregon and California trails by which the early West was populated. It is equally famous as the home of Harry Truman, whose life has been thoroughly seized by the Chamber of Commerce for promotional considerations.
Independence is a blue-collar town. Many neighborhoods are full of small, well-kept homes in which the owners have refused to abandon their "inner city" to the "we buy ugly houses" promoters. The yards are often overgrown and many side streets have no curbs or sidewalks but Independence has refused to give in to blight. I suspect the average age of home owners there is pretty high and wonder what will happen as the properties begin to come up for sale when age forces residents to apartments and nursing homes, but for now it's solid as a rock.
Aside from the trails and Truman attractions, the dominant industry in Independence looks to be tattoo parlors. I counted six in a three-mile expanse of 23rd Street. The residents seem to reflect this and support it as many people you encounter are covered in ink, with varying degrees of artistic appeal. Behind tattooing, discount smoke shops are everywhere and do a land-office business, reflecting Missouri's high incidence of smoking (25 percent of adults, a rate exceeded only by three other states). In third place, fast food looks to be the winner with a Taco Bell at least every 4000 liner feet. Fast food is way more popular than fresh food, judging by the infrequency of supermarkets and the long lines at drive-thru windows.
Independence is known locally as "Meth-dependence" in honor of the local industry which the Chamber of Commerce seldom mentions. Small, inexpensive homes in quiet neighborhoods have drawn methamphetamine cookers in disproportionate numbers, to bedevil the local authorities and keep the supply lines short. I guess all those tattoo-ed folks driving around in beat up old cars are that way for a reason.
But still, this is a pleasant town. I see many children out riding their bikes and chasing each other on the quiet streets and across tended lawns. In these warmer, longer evenings, homes with front porches draw neighbors up for a chat. Walkers are everywhere, old and less old alike. It looks a lot like small-town America that played well on TV in the Fifties and Sixties. You won't see Donna Reed anywhere; she has gained some weight and ink, and taken up smoking. Still it seems a lot like my small-town hometown in Kansas, and much less like a little urban brother to Kansas City.
Not to say there aren't problems here. Other than the meth concern, you need only wait five minutes on any street before a IPD black-and-white cruiser roars by under lights and siren en route to some lawlessness. It is, after all, a city of over a hundred thousand souls. And it is the true county seat of Jackson County. The courthouse is square in the middle of town, and what is known as the "Jail Annex" is only two blocks away. Larger counterparts do much more business in Kansas City but this is the Real McCoy.
Independence is the only city in which I have personally seen a store-front casket shop. Proudly displayed in the window are coffins of varying styles and colors, in case you're having problems finding just the right one. Don't know just how much walk-in business they get, but it has been there a while now and must be profitable. We didn't have anything like that in my small-town hometown in Kansas.
The crown jewel of Independence is the annual "Santa-Cali-Gon" festival over Labor Day weekend. A carnival moves into downtown and hordes of crafts booths, T-shirt vendors and some of the greatest food hawkers ever set up shop along the sidewalks. "Ye Old Corn Hole" sells hot corn on the cob. Others sell amazing french fries (yes, they are fantastic), funnel cakes, burgers, onion rings, fried pickles and pies. In the evenings, there is usually a concert and dancing in the street. Early September is still very much summer, but these people are unmoved in their determination to celebrate.
What exactly they celebrate is unknown to me. Could it be the history living in the Trails? Or perhaps Harry Truman, whose silhouette adorns every street corner? Maybe they fete the Sheriff's deputies for their accrued meth busts since the last Santa-Cali-Gon, I don't know. But when city living tends to jade one's senses it is refreshing to see folks just celebrating. And I kind of wonder if they are just celebrating living in Independence. You could do a lot worse. You could do a lot worse in Missouri.
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