Hope is on the way!

Politics, as usual.

In the interest of self preservation I embarked on a spiritual journey through recent political history.  Today there are so many vicious accusations, so much heated debate, so many dire, catastrophic predictions, that there seemed little choice.  Surely, things are not that bad.

Since things have changed so much so quickly it didn't make since to travel too far in time.  The 1970's is so distant, and different that it only made sense to start after that.  Reagan's presidency made an ideal place to begin.  There are so many people lionizing the man as the paragon of the modern republican it might offer a little insight into today's political dilemma.

Reagan was a very good president, not because he was a republican, but because he was a brutal pragmatist.  He saw unemeployment rocket to 10% and the deficit roared out of control, so he passed a tax bill that raised revenue, mostly on the backs of the middle class.  At the time of signing it was the largest peacetime tax increase in history.  And, the country recovered, and people were happy and that was his real job.

George Bush, Sr., say what you want about the man, but he was not going to let a little campaign promise get in the way of making the economy stronger, and the country better.  But, he wasn't going to forget his promises to huge companies that spent so much to get him elected.  But, who can blame a guy for that.

Along comes Bill Clinton.  A southern centrist Democrat.  He managed to balance the budget, and was widely believed to be tough on corporate taxes, but (among other things) he did lower the capital gains tax rate from 28% to 20%, he did this because he felt it would aid the country.  That was his main responsibility.

Of course, no body would ever try to accuse the second George Bush as being tough on corporate America.  He thought that was the best course of action in his role as captain of the economy.

A dangerous pattern begins to emerge.  Politicians seem more concerned with people of wealth, large, cash rich corporations, anybody who can throw a little money their way.

I was very sad, my opinion seemed to mean nothing, and my vote was wasted.

All of that changed one warm, fall day last year.  On my doorstep appeared a delightful young man, a member of the local city council.  He had been elected to the school board at 18, and the city council at 23.  He was running for state senate, and smiling brightly asked what I felt was important.  He said the concerns of the common man, the middle class, were his concerns.

I was delighted, thrilled, adrenaline coursed through my veins, and I got a little dizzy.  Here was a politician who wanted to help me.  Thank you, gods of election.

I couldn't decide what to ask for, so I thought quickly about my job, and how the company I was working for was so good to my whole family, in fact the families of every employee.

"I would like to see the NAFTA accord include China, it would help my employers (a locally owned, privately held, small business) so much."

He said that he understood, and felt small business was the catalyst of the whole economy.  "I will do everything in my power to help small business, and my constituents, if elected.”  He promised.

He was elected, and today I checked the progress on adding China to NAFTA.  There was none!

Another political heartbreak.  Bastards.

Fighting for our freedom to have dinner.

Morning commutes can be hectic.

Today's drive was a little hectic.  At 6:15 traffic is, generally speaking, pretty light, normally, really, just smooth sailing, mostly.  Not today.

It started right on the first freeway ramp.  In front of my car was a Chevy Silverado, bright red, a big gas guzzling pickup, you could tell it never hauled anything more freight worthy than groceries, a real pretty boy thing,  Poking along, screwing up the whole works.  He merged to the left, perfect time to pass him.  Accelerating until I was pulling ahead a little Mr. Sissy man pickup driver saw I was going around him and decided that was not the best way to start his day, and sped up.  Driving defensively, and not wanting to cause any accidents, I put my foot to the floor, and passed him doing 85 miles per hour (Miles are like kilometers, only longer, or not as long, I don't remember, and an hour is like a minute times 60)

It was a great feeling watching the schmuck sobbing in my rear view mirror, until a car flew past on the left and took the lead, then one on the right. nearly causing an accident, lunatics anyway.  Whipping into the middle lane I drafted (drafting is a racing term and it means, driving right behind someone so close in order to create, to gather, to generate, never mind what it means, it isn't important) behind a Honda Odyssey going 120 mph.  I was so close I managed to catch the last few minutes of Scooby Doo on the DVD screen.  Did you know the Creeper was really the butler?

I looked out the drivers side window and who was there?  That's right, Jeff Gordon in the number three car.  He flipped me the bird and went to pass the minivan.  I double clutched and shifted into a lower gear, which was hard, since I don't have any idea what that means and my car has an automatic transmission.  Swerving over I managed, barely to clip his rear bumper and send him careening into the ambulance, whose driver was using the lights and sirens in a foolish attempt to get to ahead of me.

Only two cars left to pass and the lead would be mine, and one of them was a school bus.  Victory is going to be so sweet.  But, as the school bus and I were jockeying for position a state patrolman cruised by and I decided he should probably have the honor.  Brave public servant that he is.

Save when you can!

The future of giving.

Today, we would like to thank those gentle, kind, loving souls who have pioneered unique and creative ways to provide assistance for those in need.  Those daring individuals smart enough to give more than money, to provide opportunity, to provide the means for the downtrodden to finally break the cycle of dependency.  Today is the time to thank those who are paving the way to a brighter, more prosperous future.

Our first example comes to us from the high tech world of computer programming and software development.  A place where one man took the initiative to reach around the world and offer assistance to a person who will never get the chance to thank him for his philanthropy.  We will let the internet news agency tell you about this selfless deed.

“What began as a company's suspicion that its infrastructure was being hacked turned into a case of a worker outsourcing his own job to a Chinese consulting firm, according to reports that cite an investigation by Verizon's security team. The man was earning a six-figure salary.

The anonymous company, identified only as a critical infrastructure firm, asked Verizon's Web security personnel to look into data that showed its virtual private network was being accessed from China — even as the employee whose credentials were used to log in from overseas was sitting in the company's offices, using his computer.

As Emil Protalinski writes at The Next Web, the company's security measures included a coded fob which, the investigating team learned, a code developer had shipped to Shenyang, China, so that a company there could perform his assigned work.

And it turns out that the job done in China was above par — the employee's "code was clean, well written, and submitted in a timely fashion. Quarter after quarter, his performance review noted him as the best developer in the building," according to the Verizon Security Blog.

It seems that Verizon has removed the page publishing this "case study" — either that, or it has merely become unavailable for some other reason. But a cached version of the storyoffers more details. The report, which assigns the inventive employee the fictitious name of "Bob," described him as a family guy in his 40s, with extensive software knowledge.

After they were called in to look for rogue software that allowed hackers to perfectly mimic an employee's log-in, and maintain an active and secure connection, the investigators instead found "hundreds of .pdf notices from a third party contractor/developer in (you guessed it) Shenyang, China."

The Verizon team even found that "Bob" kept a regular schedule at his office:

·         9:00 a.m. – Arrive and surf Reddit for a couple of hours. Watch cat videos

·         11:30 a.m. – Take lunch

·         1:00 p.m. – Ebay time.

·         2:00 – ish p.m Facebook updates – LinkedIn

·         4:30 p.m. – End of day update e-mail to management.

·         5:00 p.m. – Go home

And as they learned, his schedule also included sending less than one-fifth of his salary to the Chinese firm. Verizon's investigators say the evidence they uncovered suggests "Bob" might have had similar arrangements at several companies.

"All told, it looked like he earned several hundred thousand dollars a year, and only had to pay the Chinese consulting firm about fifty grand annually," according to the Security Blog.

It is that kind of sacrifice that will save the world, and free the masses, bringing light where there was darkness, hope where there was despair, food where there was hunger, money where there was a person willing to do the job for significantly less.  Thank you, faceless, nameless pioneer of the new charity movement.

Oh, Canada, The True North strong and free!

North of Mexico, South of that Great Country, And World Leader, CANADA

In regards to:

Working together to save the world

Canada

North of the US,

South of The Arctic,

But Just Barely

Attention:

Dear Canada,

Good Morning, Bonjour, we haven’t talked in a while, and it seemed a good time to “reach out” and “touch base” with our wonderful friends in the Great North.

Are you well?  We heard about the wheel falling off of the Air Canada flight in Toronto, boy can we identify with that.  Maybe you have heard of the Boeing 787 Dreamliner, more of a nightmare, really.

Good thing they got this hockey thing all worked out, eh?  We were a little worried they were going to cancel the season, bunch of hosers, anyway.

Anyhoo, let us get to the real reason for the letter, the nub of our gist, if you will.  Maybe you’ve read about our little deficit problem.  It has kind of ballooned, of late.  Kind of embarrassing, a little bit of a blot on our good reputation.  We thought, that maybe, if you were not too busy, and since you are always so nice, even the French speaking portion, (and that says something to us) we thought you might want to help a brother out.

We have had so many good times together, and share three sports leagues, and a style of football, that is unique to our continent.  Oh sure, we still play soccer, we just don’t mislabel it or take it too seriously.

Plus, in the late 1920s we tore up all of our detailed plans to invade Canada.  That is friendship, eh?  We have plans on file for every other country in the world, even Mexico (right now we really enjoy taking that one out and looking it over, with gusto, (oh what we couldn't do with all of that land) we still remember the Alamo, you know?).

We don’t expect you to pay all of it, just the difficult part, that we can’t quite afford, we have over $1348.00 dollars in the treasury that we will kick in, if you could just tackle the rest, we would be so grateful.  

As a token of our esteem we are willing to give you Montana, and North Dakota, if you want it.  In a pinch we would throw in Minnesota, we have heard it is great, they claim to have tons of lakes.

If you could help us out, just this once we promise to be much more thrifty in the future, we have learned our lesson, we promise

.

Respectfully yours,

United States

It's a wicked world we live in.

One mans chicken is another mans traveling companion, named Falcon.

Pay to play, or pay for play, you decide.

“College athletes should be paid, so many people make money from their efforts.”  That is the common argument, and it is a good one.  Of course, there is also the investment of time, many of them work year round to hone skills, and discipline their bodies for peak performance.  Plus, they bring so much entertainment and joy to so many.  Turn on your television and watch as the drama unfolds, it is spectacle, anyone can see the interest shown by so many.  There are so many good reasons to pay college athletes it is becoming difficult to remember what the opposition is saying.  But, paying college athletes may stop short of equity.

What about the high school stud who can “carry the rock?”  Doesn’t he deserve a little something, something for his troubles?  How about that outside hitter who flies in, bird of prey like to smash that volleyball into the floor so hard it needs inflated.  And that kid averaging 16 points, 7 rebounds and 2 assists on the basketball team, where is his “fatted calf?”  These student athletes train rigorously, lifting and running, sacrificing time and sweat.  Further, their parents often pay for summer leagues, and personal trainers, all in an effort to gain that little bit of an edge, that one small advantage when it counts most.  Don’t they deserve compensation for their time.

Oh, sure, there are laws governing the allocation of government funds spent on education.  But, there are options.  Who hasn’t met the coach willing to sell a little bit of soul for a decent state tournament run.  There are always several coaches for each team, maybe a pool system.  Perhaps that is too mercenary, maybe the cost needs to cast a wider net.

Ask any high school coach or administrator, booster groups and graduates are an excellent source of renewable wealth.  Booster clubs love to be a part of things, and there is nothing that brings more joy to these hard working, God fearing souls than a winning record and a divisional championship.  Ah, to see the smiles on their philanthropistic faces when the trophy is paraded around the Elks lodge for all to see.

Another option, a particularly egalitarian method, would be to donate a portion of the ticket sales and concession stand earnings among the players.  What makes the concession sales alternative so appealing is the opportunity it gives for self expression.  For example, people could choose who they are supporting with each purchase. 

Customer:  “Give me two slices of pizza for # 11, a large Coke for # 24 and some nachos for #3, please.”

Concession Stand Volunteer:  “That will be $7.50, no $8.50 no $7.75.  Oh damn, has anybody seen the calculator?  Let’s call it an even $10.00.”

Not only would the student athlete benefit think of the potential profit for the school district.  Basketball will serve as our example here.  Think for a moment, it is a close game, the home team trails by two, time is running out on the clock, less than 12 seconds left, Number 4 inbounds the ball to number 32, who dribbles to half court, he runs into a double team and jumps up, passing the ball to number 43 in the corner.  Time is counting down, 2 seconds left, and the defense is running out towards number 43 (Jeff, if you are wondering) who squares up and launches a three point shot to win the game at the buzzer.  Think of all of the people mobbing the concession stand to buy popcorn, candy bars, lukewarm hot dogs, bottled water, anything to pay show their gratitude to Jeff, for his steely nerves and game winning heroics.  It will be like Black Friday, right outside the gym.  There is no need to stop there, though.

The world of amateur athletics is silly with coaches who feel like they are one good season from the glory and riches of the pro league, they so richly deserve.  It would be difficult to swing a blind referee’s white cane without hitting a volunteer dreaming of the big time.  Think of the potential, (and it would be relatively inexpensive at that age, a bargain, really) some kid dribbles the soccer ball through your entire U8 team, and the coach walks, very casually over and offers the kids $3.25 to switch teams for the rest of the game.  Does anybody else smell a dynasty?

Of course, there are going to be those who feel that money is too base, corrupting,  too “dirty.”  Truly, though, the money is really only secondary in importance, the real value is the lesson in dealing with success.  Learning to understand the value of talent, and learning to manage complex financial arrangements is the most important thing to teach children.

The Ugly Truth Behind Healthy Choices. #FixThePlus

When members of a community are willing to put aside differences and struggle together to achieve larger goals magic can sometimes happen.  Such was the case when citizens of a mid sized Midwestern city found their town at the bottom of the list of least healthy cities in their state.  They decided, in true mid west fashion, to roll up their sleeves, put on their work boots, and gloves, and apply a healthy dose of middle American sensibilities to the dilemma. 

City council voted almost unanimously to raise the taxes levied on cigarettes, alcohol and high calorie food, using all of the additional revenue to fund health and fitness classes at local gyms and city recreation centers.  Signs were erected encouraging people to commute by bike, or foot whenever possible.  Television, newspaper and radio advertisements extolled the virtues of a balanced diet, and exercise regimen.  It was a smashing success.  Weight, cholesterol levels and blood pressure plummeted across town.  People were feeling better, smiling more, and treating each other like family.

The town went from the least healthy in the state to one of the top ten in the nation.  There was a city wide celebration, and everyone was invited.

It was a boon for almost everybody, except for the Emergency Medical Personnel who made a living transporting sick people to the local hospitals.  At engine houses across town the mood was beginning to darken, as talk of layoffs became more immediate and intense.  Of course there were no plans to lay anyone off, but human nature is a paranoid beast, even in healthy people.  And the mood was turning foul.

On Wednesday, the 7^th, ambulance 3-9 was driving back to Fire House 2 after making a grocery run.  Munching on a carrot stick the passenger talked about going back to technical school and learning to repair electronic maintenance.  All of the new treadmills, stair climbing machines and stationary bikes were “silly with gizmos, doodads, and whatnot,” he reasoned.  And someone had to fix them as they wore out, might as well be him, he figured.

The driver did not want to change jobs.  He liked being an EMT, saving lives was rewarding, and offered enough challenges and unique situations to make his days interesting.  Being a handy man was not for him.

“Fuck it,” he said, “I’m going to run someone down,” and he did.  Honestly, though, he did not really run anyone down, he just kind of bumped him with the front.  Enough to break a few ribs, and separate a shoulder, requiring transport to the hospital, and offer a chance to ply their trade, and it felt good.

An investigation revealed an accident, nothing more.  “They happen all the time, all over the world, to everybody.”  A spokesperson for the city explained. 

Word travels fast in the brotherhoods of employment.  Civil servants are no different.   Soon, Ambulance Technicians across the city were causing minor accidents.  Sometimes they would run into people with motor vehicles, normally cars they had stolen.  Other times they would bump into ladders, always dressed incognito, and run away as quickly as possible.  Business was booming.  People were still healthy and the ambulances and hospitals were hopping, once again.

Soon, though, people started wondering what was at the root of all of these accidents.  It had just started one day, and then it was epidemic, mostly just small things, sprains and strains, a few broken bones, nothing too serious, but certainly more than could be explained by “accident.”  It didn’t take long to develop a theory. 

People began forming militias, and looking suspiciously at strangers.  Roadblocks and checkpoints began popping up at the entrances to neighborhoods. 

At night, the ambulance drivers would infiltrate parts of the city and assemble booby traps, so there was always a supply of injured needing transportation.

One day, the North Side Brigade had had enough.  They lay in wait, two blocks from Engine House 14.  And when the paramedics went on a grocery run, they struck.  Thirty minutes later, the ambulance was sitting on flat tires, graffiti painted on the sides showing a man riding a skateboard down a highway filled with empty gas stations.  People from the North Side thought it would be a good idea to express a few green ideas while they were reclaiming their right to live without injury.  And the EMT’s were tied to a parking meter with sign that read “Marinate the pigs.”  Marinate had been crossed out and below it “Baste” had been painted neatly, and then crossed out.  Below that “Waste” had been scrawled hurriedly.

Soon, ambulances were only traveling with a heavily armed police escorts.  Even then they only traveled to areas deemed safe.  Patrols were sent out from the police station and the armed populace used every opportunity to strike first. 

It was decided, unanimously to disband the city council and the military was called in to occupy the city.  Soon, everyone was getting a little rounder about the middle and a little slower, and in need of more medical attention.  Doctors began to make house calls because everybody was confined to their district.  A trust began to build, a trust based on need and Meals Ready to Eat.

People began playing card games with neighbors and soon there were smiles, and things returned to normal.  With more calories.