Beat It (Please)

The title of one of Michael Jackson's songs, Beat It, seems appropriate commentary regarding the extensive mindless drivel that has flooded the airways since last Thursday and beat us all into submission: all right, already, I'll turn off the TV and go outside and do something, anything to get away from the endless drone of ill-informed news readers forced to make a story where there are no details, no updates, no concrete information of any kind beyond what has already been endlessly aired!

Most especially irritating and ingratiating are the interviews with what I fondly refer to as the "Seven Degrees of Separation" interviewees, the people who once upon a time long ago had some sort of contact with MJ and have a treasure trove of trivia to share with today's audience, none of which has any importance, impact, and/or relevance to the last 40 years of his life, much less his recent death. For instance, the man who was a manager somewhere along the line but has not seen/contacted MJ in the last oh, say, 20 years. And his comments are relevant how?

Yeah, the on-camera talent is covering their beat, beating the bushes for new information, and beating a dead horse (sorry, no disrespect intended) to be the first on-air with something, anything that beats the competition. Often the soundtrack playing behind the coverage is Beat It, which is what they all should do: go home until there is news to report, something other than the earth-shattering gasp of disbelief when Michael Jackson's father showed up on the red carpet at last night's BET Awards. Talk about the day the Earth stood still while the on-air talent went into a filming frenzy.

Updating for those who do believe that death comes in threes, Gale Storm, 87, passed away a couple of days ago. I can still see her face, her black hair, and her oddly slanted eyes. When I recall her TV career, I think in terms of perky and quirky. Billy Mays, 50, also died in his sleep after a deplaning interview about things falling on his head during an unusually rough landing in a US Airways flight. A sudden, unexplained death involving one's head being pummeled with falling luggage from an overhead bin doesn't raise alarms, but the not altogether unexpected death of a drug addicted pop star does? Reality check, please. And the third death is that of Fred Travalena, 60-something, in Las Vegas, another impressionist with a huge casino lounge career who never made it as big as Danny Gans, who unexpectedly died in his sleep several months ago.

Is there a serial killer murdering sleeping male impressionists in Las Vegas? Stay tuned for breaking news updates as more information either becomes available or we create it in our newsroom.

Creative Language License

First, we over-use the word icon, which is most often used in a religious connotation; however, that being said, it becomes hilarious to hear the news readers one-upping each other in their quest to find a new way to ascribe iconic status to dead entertainers.

One of the younger news readers enthusiastically reported on the iconization of these no-longer-living legends, a word that was probably created on the spot and made his former English teachers cringe. He then continued to discuss the iconography of the deceased entertainers, a word that actually refers to images of religious icons, but which he ascribed to the deceased individual's career accomplishments. His summation is that these iconoclasts have forever changed American culture, applying a word that is defined as a person who attacks and/or destroys sacred images (icons), the diametric opposite of what his mind defined the word to mean in his application of it.

Yes, language is dynamic, not static, and meanings ascribed to words back in the day often morph to fit new applications. It will be amusing to me to see how many other news readers jump on the "let's apply as many forms of the word icon as we can to make ourselves sound well-educated" bandwagon. We do have 3 funerals coming at us for 3 different entertainment icons who had the misfortune to die in rapid succession and step all over each other's PR, which does allow for adequate time to develop a serious iconology before their bankability diminishes, perhaps creating total iconostatis in the media!

Darkness Descends

The entertainment industy lost three prominent personalities in just about as many days: Ed McMahon, in his 80s; Farrah Fawcett, in her 60s; and Michael Jackson, age 50. Each of these entertainment icons leaves behind a lasting impact on society, far beyond the "heeeeere's Johnny," the feathered hair-do and infectious smile, and the unbelievable creativity, music, and dancing ability.

For my generation, it was the loss of The King, Elvis; for my children, it is today's loss of another King, Michael Jackson. For those who believe that death comes in three's, it's a huge sigh of relief that the grim reaper has taken those for whom he came into the darkness of this good night.

Rest in peace.

In the Blink of an Eye

There's a huge cap for a nuclear reactor coming through the desert at 5 mph. It's too big to go under over-passes, so it takes the really long way around on its destination to AZ. For days we heard in the media that it was heading our way, stirring up lots of interest in people who maybe just want to see something really big being driven on the highways and byways. I drove by it today -- just because I could -- and there were lots of people looking at it and taking pictures.

Last night, it left I-10 to travel Highway 111 through PS, then onto a major road that crosses I-10 and heads toward my neck of the woods. I'm not sure how this route works, but the thing is parked on a side street and slated to head out tonight for the very long, very S-L-O-W crawl up the 2 big grades, through all the little cities between here and points east, and then make its way back down to I-10 and across the Colorado River into AZ. It only moves at night as it completely blocks any roadway it takes.

An elderly couple drove out Highway 111 about midnight last night, perhaps to see this event in person. They pulled way off the road, but were killed when a black Mercedes SUV plowed into their parked vehicle. The driver of the Mercedes was allegedly driving erratically (DUI?) prior to the accident and had to leave the roadway to hit the car and kill the occupants therein. The driver who caused the accident is in the hospital with a broken leg and some other minor injuries.

I was thinking about all of this as I headed back down the hill after sharing a wonderful lunch and gab sessions with some of my Spring Students this afternoon. As I started down the first grade, the speeding truck behind me suddenly veered into the center neutral lane and across the two lanes of on-coming traffic before realizing that he was head-on in the traffic coming up the hill. He jerked the wheel and skidded back into my lane going down the hill -- without hitting anyone in the process. I have no idea how he missed all of us. I had quickly changed lanes to the far right, so he had a bit more room to maneuver than he had when he crawled up my bumper, but not much.

It is amazing how smoothly all the vehicles on a roadway can slow as one to create a path for the driver who is all over the road.

Well, he kept going, speeding down the grade ahead of all the rest of us. I'm sure that the drivers he narrowly missed had to change their tighty whities as it was that close, and my mind projected what's headed the same way tonight: the huge assembly of axels, wheels, and engines moving a 150-ton cap for a nuclear reactor up the same roadway. I hope that the drivers are as alert tonight as we all were at 3:30 this afternoon; if not, we could have more traffic fatalities marking the route.

UPDATE: The rig made it all the way to YV, where it was discovered to have a flat tire that has to be replaced before it can continue the journey. Well, there are about 3 dozen tires all in all, so I'm not sure why 1 tire makes a difference, but whatever. It's heading east after the tire is changed, through JT, 29, and then to the turn back toward I-10. Never realized how much is involved in these kinds of product deliveries, but it seems to me that it would have been easier to strap the darned thing onto the back of the plane that transports the space shuttles from one landing site to another and just git 'er done.

Without Hesitation or Reservation

The Hour I First Believed (Wally Lamb, author) is one of the best books I've ever read -- and I've read a lot of books. This is one of those books to read, reflect, reread, discuss, contemplate, then tell others about ... and find the time to read again down the road, when it becomes both familiar and fresh again.

The author admits that it took him 9 years to construct the novel, which is a masterful blend of fiction and non-fiction, a family history that connects Caelum not just to his family, but to himself. Every family has secrets, but somehow we find out what's always been hiding in the recesses of our DNA, the one key that unlocks not just who we are, but why.

The author, as well as Caelum, his protagonist, share 25 years of teaching experience. I've been there and done that too, so the story became familiar in ways that other readers may not accept as readily or understand in the same way as I. I've taught many classes aboard a military base, as well as many other classes with both military and military-affiliated students, which brings a response to parts of the novel that others may read less subjectively than I read them. I've lived with school violence, with the withdrawal of students who dare anyone to reach them, much less to teach them. I've shared the frustration of trying to conduct a lesson on a reading assignment no one has read -- or intends to read, of responding to essays that lack substance because the student does not want to engage in the educational process, just endure it, and of giving quizzes and tests that few, if any, students will pass.

I've had the experience of overload, when I wonder not just what I am doing, but why I am continuing to do it because no matter how much I care, no one else does.

Nothing ever changes, Janis had said. It did, though. We lived, lulled, on the fault line of chaos. Change could come explosively, and out of nowhere (570).

This is story that changes a reader's life, an epic story, an important story, a worthwhile story that I recommend without hesitation or reservation. It'll take time and it'll take effort, but it's worth both.

Payback's a Bitch

Perez Hilton is a mean, whiney bitch who, unfortunately, caught on with the "hip" crowd, whatever they call themselves these days, and started not just to believe his own bullshit, but to live it. He began his career in his bedroom, writing an on-line blog that he filled with what he calls gossip, but what used to be known as pure conjecture and complete fabrication. But, he made people laugh because he's such a parody of himself, and once he caught on, he made a lot of money, which these days is all it takes to open doors to people, places, and opportunity, including being asked to judge the Miss America Pageant.

It was inexcusable what he did at the Miss America pageant because he did it to further his own agenda, not to enhance the pageant. Confronting unsuspecting people with his kamikazee gay attacks is great fun for him, as he giggles and prances about in front of the cameras -- and then posts his blathering to his blog, where it becomes THE WORD. He's actually known for doing this sort of thing in his campaign to make the world a much gayer place to live, and I guess he's found a way to extend his own 15 minutes of notoriety in a society that is afraid to stand up for what it believes.

Well, hee-hee-hee: one of his latest victims punched him out, fed up with this pathetic excuse for a Holyworld celebrity wannabe spreading his gay message far and wide at the expense of his unsuspecting, exposed victims. Perez crying on his video blog, sobbing out his side of the story, detailing the punch and the blood from the really tiny superficial raspberry on his face. Oh, poor Perez: how awful it must have been! I know, you have lost all respect for the Black-eyed Peas, haven't you? How could THEY do this to YOU?

Perhaps the question you should have been asking a long time ago is how can YOU do this to THEM?

It was fun to see the other side of the story side-by-side on the TV last night and to hear that the person being accused of throwing the punch didn't do it. Of course, the story would not be nearly as BIG if Perez admitted that it was the bodyguard who did it, would it? Oh, well, if the story the way it is doesn't play to the media, change it!

I'm tired of all these totally young wannabee's taking air time to show us how they party, how they play, how they spend money, how they manipulate the system to become media stars. I'm tired of being gay being a lifestyle that is fun, fun, fun -- and everyone should want to be gay, too. I'm tired of the 'tweens and twentysomethings deciding my lifestyle! I don't approve of what goes on, but no one cares. For those of us who do speak up, we're told that we're on our way out, so no one is going to listen to us. My mother used to say that you cannot put an old head onto young shoulders, but people forget the wisdom of those of us who have already been there/done that and worn out the t-shirt.

It isn't what you have: it's who you are. It isn't what you do when people are looking, but what you do when they aren't that tells me who you are. Perez Hilton: your 15 minutes are just about up, and I doubt there's much there to work with to keep you going when the clock runs out.

You Had Me at Hello

During our FOL day in La Jolla this past Saturday, one of my Friends highly recommended a book she recently read, written by an author I, too, have read, so we stopped by the bookstore and I purchased a copy. Yesterday, I began reading the 728 page doorstop and couldn't put it down! I'm not sure what time I finally fell asleep, but I fought it because I wanted to keep reading.

Wally Lamb, the author of The Hour I First Believed, has written two other novels that I have also read: I Know This Much Is True and She's Come Undone. Lamb's one of those writers who writes the way I would write if I, too, were a writer. He tells the story with words that are exactly right both the way they are used and in the context. He creates characters who are real: noble sometimes and ignoble other times, flailing about to handle life as it comes at them. Often his flawed individuals seem to mature past their flaws, but the flaws always remain, waiting to unfurl at what could be either the most opportune time -- or the most inopportune time. Who we are is a result of who we've been, and we never really completely eradicate our past selves in our present selves, but sometimes we do learn to co-exist. Lamb constructs an engrossing and conflicted web of people, places and events, the threads of which weave a perfect finished product that simply has to be experienced by a reader.

The narrator, Caelum, is a teacher who's working on his third marriage. He's learned the lesson of the life-sucking force some students bring to school with them, but he's become jaded by his inability to interact with those students. Rather than setting boundaries, he tapes black construction paper over his classroom window, locks the door, and retreats to a corner so he can be alone, not realizing that any one of those actions would have worked and all three of them are over-kill. His third wife, Maureen, is a school nurse; there are problems with their marriage stemming perhaps from her affair with a colleague that resulted in the move to Littleton, Colorado and employment at Columbine High School, but perhaps more significantly relating to the lack of intimacy with her husband, who guards himself all too well from intimate relationships with anyone: students, colleagues, friends, family. Maureen needs forgiveness, but Caelum wants contrition, two mutally exclusive needs that become the impetus for an inexorable slide into a dead marriage.

When his beloved Aunt Lolly dies, Caelum flies back home to deal with what has to be done, leaving Maureen to make her arrangements and join him for the funeral. Every detail he needs to know about his Aunt requires him to call Maureen: he has distanced himself too well from the woman who raised him when his parents could not. The places he's lived open the windows to his past. As he's reacting emotionally to his childhood, he sees on the news that there has been an incident at Columbine High School -- and he recognizes the faces of both students and staff fleeing the campus. His first thought is that Maureen works on the first floor, so she could not possibly be in the second-floor library, which seems to be ground zero for the carnage; he calls her to assure himself that she is okay.

At this point, the story explodes, almost as if this transforming event is the catalyst Caelum needs to confront his deepest fears and come to grips with life as it is, not as it isn't.

I'm just about the half-way point, so I'll be reading this week: leave a message.

Quieting the Critics

Stephen Colbert, who is the epitome of a wise witty man reminiscent of Samuel Clemens in his political savvy, played the Obama clip again, the one where the President complains that one media outlet just won't cut him a break. Really? Just one? If the media were doing the job upon which this country is founded, ALL of the media would not be cutting him a break; rather, the media would be questioning, analyzing, making connections, probing not just what is said, but also what is not said by the new Commander-in-Chief. Obama should be assuring the public that the media is all over him, his appointments and his policies, keeping him not just honest in office, but doing the will of the people in the process.

Being President of the United States of America is not a high school popularity contest, like being elected ASB President: this is the highest office in the land, the one with all the power, prestige, and accountability to we, the American people -- even those who disagree with the person who takes the oath of office. When people are given a voice to speak freely, to ask questions, to seek answers, to offer alternatives, they have no need to demand one. A good leader listens; a poor leader fills in the silences, explains the inexplicable, justifies the actions, as well as the inactions, and attacks the critics who disagree with him/her for asking questions that the leader cannot (or will not) answer.

Is Judge Sotomayor the best candidate for the vacancy on the Supreme Court? Rather than refusing to debate the choice with the critics, tell them why she is based on her judicial record. It's a bonus that she's a female, that she's Hispanic, that she made an honest off-the-cuff remark several years ago in the comfort of a conversation with colleagues that makes a great sound bite, but does nothing to detract from a judicial record that justifies her appointment. Don't snipe at the snipers: playing the wah-wah-wah game only benefits the critics, not the presidency.

The President does not need anyone to like him, to accept whatever he says/does without comment: he needs to convince his most ardent opponent that his policies and practices are sound. If he cannot respond to his critics with credible answers from his heart and head, not the tele-prompter, then what he is doing needs to be re-evaluated. The best person to critique a plan is the person who is most likely to oppose it; if you cannot have that conversation, you are going to have to deal with the consequences in the media.

When people know that they are being heard, they don't need to get louder. When people ask a question and it's answered fully and well, they admire the person who knows what (s)he is doing and why. By being Presidential, you assure your credibility; by being petty, you create a whole lot of unnecessary stress for yourself and your administration. Don't invite the fawning sycophant into the White House: invite your most passionate opponent.

That's a show I would watch!

Romantic Comedy

I like watching films that are both fun and funny, and two that are out currently fit the marquee: My Life in Ruins and The Proposal. A good romantic comedy requires a strong female lead (think Doris Day; okay, Julia Roberts), as well as an adorable male (think Rock Hudson before we knew he was gay, back when every woman wanted him--or Richard Gere in An Officer and a Gentleman), stirred up with a somewhat believable storyline in a gorgeous setting. After all, if it's going be make-believe, make sure we can believe it!

My Life in Ruins is funny, with the same tongue-in-cheek approach to the humor found in My Greek Wedding, which also stars Nia Vardalos, who plays the tour guide in the current film. The storyline is weak and the acting isn't very good, especially from the leading man, but the supporting cast props up an otherwise weak presentation. Richard Dreyfuss is almost not recognizable in the film (age + body mass), but he has a solid role that has to be played well for the film to work -- and he does the job. The romantic male lead, however, isn't all that attractive, lacks charisma, stumbles his way through the scenes he's in, and could have been better cast to be worth the effort of seducing him. Nia, of course, shines in her native environment and really sells the premise of being a tour guide in the land she loves. She also comes across pretty sexy when that's what her scenes call for, but the object of her affection? Well, he's just not that into her.

On the other hand, The Proposal is both fun and funny, with leading characters who complement one another and add the extra dimension of body language to a pretty cliche script. Sandra Bullock has been quoted as saying that she's tired of doing romantic comedies, that she wants something more in her career, but boy, does she sell the story, which, in the hands of a less-skilled actress, would have fizzled! In this film, she's the boss, a smart, demanding career woman whose male executive assistant seems to know his place in the hierarchy of the office. When she switches gears on him and maneuvers him into a sham marriage to obtain citizenship so she can keep her job, he seems almost sheep-like in his go along to get along reaction, an apparent character flaw that has its roots in Alaska. I don't want to spoil the story as what seems to be going one direction actually goes another, all the while maintaining its predictability. The end result is a great date movie and/or Sunday afternoon/rain/popcorn flick when it comes out on DVD.

If I only could afford one movie on the big screen, I'd go see The Proposal, but if I want to take a vicarious trip to Greece, I'd see My Life in Ruins again because the scenery is better than the actual film. The two friends with me have both been to Greece several times and assure me that's just what it looks like from the air, but when the tourist boots are on the ground, it's an entirely different story.

There's one more film on my to-do list, Julia/Julie, but I don't think it's been released yet. I may see The Hangover, but I can tell you right now I'd enjoy it a whole lot more if my son were here to share it with me and critique it over B-R sundaes!

Aside: I'm not sure why, but the theater was filled with males today; as a matter o' fact, far more males than either females or couples. I'm not sure why that is, but they really enjoyed The Proposal, laughing, making comments, and, at one point, applauding. Interesting; very interesting.

Eroding the Foundation

On the last teaching day of the year, another 170 teachers employed by a local school district received a surprise: lay-off notices! These teachers survived the first round of cuts and thought they were coming back in the Fall. According to the contract, notification must be served by March 15, but districts everywhere cover themselves by handing out non-hire notices by that date and then drop the bad news at their convenience. This group of teachers not only have to finish off grades and pack their classrooms, but they are turning in their keys and going home to stay. It's well past the time to look for another job, if, indeed, there were other jobs available. By this time all the part-time positions have been filled at the big box stores, which can only absorb so many overly-qualified employees with Master's degrees and teaching credentials.

During the campaign, I was promised change I could believe in; what I got were ongoing frantic efforts to save major corporations and major cuts in education, neither of which is change I believe in. Businesses come and go, especially when businesses engage in poor business practices: refusal to be on the leading edge of advancement, while continuing to price products out of a competitive marketplace. I drive Toyotas for one reason: they last beyond the payment coupons. Many people I know who purchase American brandname vehicles suffer from the Fix Or Repair Daily theory of operation, a cycle of spending that does not appeal to me even in a healthy economy. If American manufacturers want my business, they have to earn it by offering a quality product at a reasonable price. I am not one of those who will "buy American" for philosophical reasons if I can buy a better product at a better price from another manufacturing source.

America used to be a strong, competitive world market, but gave up its driving force to make a quick buck. You snooze, you lose.

During a huge tidal wave of immigration into America during the waning years of the 19th century and the opening years of the 20th century, American citizens realized how vital the education of all citizens is to this country's survival. We believe in what teachers call "Statue of Liberty schools," educational institutions that take our poor, huddled masses and educate them. In the smallest hamlets of this country, as well as the largest metropolises, immigrants went to school to learn the language, to learn the ways of this country, to learn the skills that would guarantee employment and fulfillment of The American Dream. Education was the foundation of a strong America and the businesses were a by-product of American knowledge and ingenuity.

My, how times have changed: we're flooding failing businesses with unbelievable amounts of money while shutting down schools.

I'd like to see change I can believe in, with a laser focus on one change that will turn this country back onto the path that it began to walk when courageous immigrants arrived on the shores and pointed their footsteps in a direction no other country dared to walk. I'd like to see education become the foundation again, the patient parent teaching the child what to do, how to do it, and when to do it, rather than a bastard step-child to big business begging for recognition and funding. I'd like to see each citizen doing a fair day's work for a fair wage, setting the industry standard, rather than being a victim of it. I'd like to see pride in ownership, rather than a disposal economy that varies with the whims of the rich and famous and/or the demands of the ignorant and indigent.

I'd like to see society recall that no one owes you a living: it is up to you to get the education, to get the job, to do it well and to live within your means. If you cannot accomplish those goals, so be it. The role of government is not to prop up the weak, but to support the driving forces that keep the nation growing -- and that includes education.

Here's change I can believe in: let the businesses fail and be rebuilt stronger by people who actually care about the product and services the business offers, rather than the comforts of their 401k's. Put our faith back into the educational system and strengthen it so teachers can do the job that has to be done for any country to survive: educate the children to become productive adults.

Justice for All?

A few months ago, an 18-year-old pregnant woman and her boyfriend went to the movies; afterward, the woman started across the street to wait for the bus to take her home. She never made it because a driver hit her and kept going. Both the woman and her nearly full-term baby died within an hour of the accident. Investigators had good leads that took them to a home in Palm Springs; however, no one answered the door. The next morning, the investigators returned to the home and documented the extensive damage to the vehicle parked in the closed garage. The female driver was taken to the police station, allowed to post a $25,000 bond, and returned home.

She has not been seen nor heard from until today.

To say that the family and friends of the victims of the hit and run were stunned would be putting it mildly. To say that citizens were astounded that the driver, whose husband works for the district attorney's office, was given preferential treatment would be understating the reaction. Two people killed as a result of a hit and run by a woman with a previous DUI should have resulted in a bail of $200,000 and a trial. Although the public has been assured repeatedly that the investigation is on-going, to date no specific charges have been filed against the driver.

None of that happened -- and none of that is going to happen.

After endless delays and no comment responses to questions at the DA's office, the woman driver was scheduled to appear in court this morning to hear the charges against her. However, once again she called the shots, pleaded guilty to DUI vehicular manslaughter for the death of the pregnant woman, not her unborn baby, and will probably serve (a maximum of) 15 years (10 years for the manslaughter; 5 years for leaving the scene) according to the terms of a plea bargain wrangled out of the public eye. Believe it or not, she was also given until August 14 to surrender because she may need surgery in the next couple of weeks -- and walked out the front door of the court house.

UPDATE: the judge had no prior knowledge of the case, including the fact that the woman was pregnant with a baby due 2 weeks after its death. He said the case was dumped on his desk this morning and hurried through the system. Boy, are there a lot of angry people in the Valley this fine day.

Adding insult to injury, allegedly the driver and her husband, who is an investigator for the DA's office, got into a fight at their PS home following the hit and run. Allegedly, the woman took a handful of pills and had to be taken to the hospital to have her stomach pumped, thus obscuring evidence of being under the influence at the time of the hit and run. Allegedly, the DA's office has not been involved in either the investigation or the legal machinations that led to today's stunning court appearance. Allegedly, the DA's office has done everything in its power to avoid any appearance of conflict of interest and/or favoritism.

This whole situation reeks. There is a dead woman, a dead baby, and damage so extensive to the vehicle driven by the admitted driver that it looked as if she had run into a wall. There is no way that she did not know she had hit something, and there is no way her husband did not know it when she arrived home. She may have taken pills to either kill herself or obscure evidence, but her husband could have called the cops to the hospital to arrest his wife, cuff her to the hospital bed, and take her to jail when she woke up.

He may not have been driving the vehicle, but he's driving the cover-up.

The victims' family is in shock at today's court appearance. They wanted to confront their daughter's killer and at least get an explanation for why she didn't stop and, perhaps, an apology for not just killing their child, but their grandchild. Instead, they are victimized again by the court system that promises "justice for all," unless, of course, you work for the system and know how to make the system work for you.

Celebration or Criminal Activity?

The Lakers win; the city loses.

The headline in the local on-line paper says that 5 officers were hurt while containing the crowds celebrating the Lakers' win last night. According to the news article,

What began as a lively but peaceful celebration took on a different tone for those remaining a few hours after the game. Some in the crowd vandalized buses and police cars, set small fires and threw rocks and bottles at police.

Officer Karen Rayner says about 25 people were arrested for disturbing the peace, arson and other infractions.(mydesert.com)

They are called "diehard fans," but they become criminals who vandalize vehicles, break into and loot businesses, engage in fights, and generally cause mayhem that detracts from the excitement about the team winning the championship. These fans quickly morph into a mob hell-bent on destruction, regardless of the police presence designed to contain their enthusiasm and criminal activity.

It's hard to believe that the fans gather to commit crimes, and even more challenging to believe that these riots occur spontaneously. While there are good people celebrating the win, there are criminals creating chaos to cover their crimes. And woe be unto the law enforcement personnel who try to stop them: they end up on the news, charged with excessive force!

It becomes a stand back and let it run its course situation so there's no repeat of 2000.

The parade is too expensive for the city to host, so the team is going to split the cost. Why not cancel it? Based on the damage to businesses caused last night, as well as the loss of property and vehicle damage, it seems that funds will now be spent paying for the impromptu riot last night following the Lakers' win.

How Low Will We Go?

I used to believe that if we all kept the bar high and couldn't meet our expectations, we'd at least land in the middle somewhere when we failed. Today, it's all about how low we can go -- especially if it gets a laugh, increases face time in the media, and/or revitalizes a career with a public that thinks The Jerry Springer Show is great entertainment. A staff writer may come up with the Letterman material, but it is the job of the older/wiser comedian to just say no when the material is tasteless and offensive, and his comments about Govenor Palin and her 14-year-old daughter were tasteless and offensive.

I am ashamed of David Letterman, who makes sexual jokes at the expense of a young girl who attended a baseball game with her mother, a sitting govenor and former vice-presidential candidate, to boost his ratings. There was no hint of humor in his comments, just a bully beating up on a 14-year-old girl by stating that she "banged" an athlete during the 7th inning stretch! The "joke" may have been accepted in the male athlete's locker room after the game, but it had no business being told on national TV -- other than to boost Letterman's ratings, a pathetic excuse for his actions.

In his defense, Letterman asserts that public figures are fair game, completely disregarding the fact that Governor Palin's daughter is 14 years old! Would Letterman make similar comments about President Obama's wife and daughters? or his own wife or family members? No, his comments were target-specific, which make them all the more reprehensible.

Comparing Letterman's comments about the Palins to Leno's question to well-known actor Hugh Grant, who had sex with an African American prostitute in a rental car in Hollywod, is a mismatched justification at best. Leno simply asked his guest, "What were you thinking?" Letterman accused a 14-year-old girl of banging a sexually active male athlete during a baseball game and characterized her mother's appearance as a "slutty flight attendant look."

Perhaps an adult can take care of herself, but making a 14-year-old girl the target of sexually explicit humor goes so far beyond the boundaries that Letterman owes this family much more than a stumbling, fumbling justification for his actions: it was just a joke, folks. No; they were crude, denigrating, sexually explicit remarks that reflect much more about Letterman's character than the character of his targets. It wasn't that long ago that another media bully was fired for referring to a female athlete's "nappy" hair, a common characterization of the texture of African-American hair often used by Oprah on her television talk show. Aren't Letterman's comments about these three victims equally offensive? Rather than being condemned by the media and the public, Letterman is being touted for taking it to the Palins, resulting in a huge ratings boost for his show!

Don't all victims have the right to be defended from this kind of verbal assault?

Our young people are fumbling to find their footing in a society that is crumbling around their feet. Young people don't need the host of a major TV show disrespecting women by ascribing to them sexual promiscuity with an athlete during a baseball game. These young people don't need to hear the host of a major TV show characterize an attractive woman who does her hair and wears make-up as looking like a "slutty flight attendant," whether that woman is a flight attendant, a politician, a housewife, or a prostitute. A woman's choice to take pride in her appearance in no way provides an opportunity for the kind of disrespect shown by Letterman through televised comments that he justifies as humor.

I am ashamed that when Letterman blatantly disrespects a mother and her daughter by making sexually explicit remarks about them, he again lowers the standard for the treatment of all women by all men. I am ashamed when society accepts Letterman's actions and does nothing to hold him accountable because it was just a joke.

Time and Space

Last week was pretty darned awful, so I accepted a long-standing invitation from a friend to visit her new home in Minden, NV. I hemmed and hawed because I didn't know what to do with Mia: we'd never been on a long road trip before and I was apprehensive about traveling with her. My friend, however, has a horse ranch and she cut to the chase: she's a dog; she'll ride where you put her. Sometimes, I just need that simplicity to move to the next step, so I rigged up a platform in the bed of the truck, set her up with her favorite shaggy rug and her dirtiest, smelliest pillow, added a box of dog food, and pulled out of the driveway for the 500-mile trip to Minden, NV. Directions: find 395, follow it until you come to our road.

The Walker River runs along 395 for a while, creating a restful, scenic drive.

Mia stood most of the way there, and I stopped about every 2 hours and took photos while she peed. On the way back, however, Mia crashed on her floor pillow, waking only when I stopped for her to pee and stretch her legs a bit.

The majestic Sierra Nevada mountains: east side.

On the drive up, I stopped in Lone Pine at the Film Museum, which I enjoyed. Once I arrived at my destination, we visited both Carson City and Virginia City, major tourist attractions, as well as Genoa, which is a tiny hamlet across the valley that hosts a Candy Dance my friend is involved with annually. The entire area is gorgeous, but very cold in the winter and becoming much too populated to please the "locals," who prefer a bit more small town isolation. Lake Tahoe is just over the peak of the mountain directly across the valley from my friend's home, but we didn't go there/do that.

The mural on the wall of the Film Museum in Lone Pine.

My friend has a rescued mustang that used to run wild in the Virginia City surrounds. It's not a big horse, but it's a sturdy horse, and it leaned through the fence to nuzzle Mia's nose at one point during our visit. I enjoyed watching the Squeeze deliver 2 blocks of hay (translation: there's a machine that delivered about 4 tons of hay off a double 18-wheeler. It looked like a forklift, but it's designed to squeeze the hay bales, lift them, and set them down where the owner wants them).

A formerly wild mustang, one of the 4 horses on the ranch.

My friend's dogs played with Mia ; however, the 3 cats were another story. Mia does NOT like cats, so she took out after them every chance she had. No one objected to the chase when the cats were outside, but when they were in the master bedroom, that was another issue. Mia actually slept in the room with me, door closed, and it was no problem. I guess she really will do what I tell her to do ... .

Sammy, Jay-R, and Mia try to pose for a photo, but they had a short attention span.

In addition to all the touristing we did, my friends took me to a Basque restaurant in the area for an incredible dining treat. I ordered the lamb chops and received a 5-course meal! The owners serve the meal they prepare; the diners specify which meat they want and enjoy whatever comes with it.

The Basque wagon at the museum in Carson City sparked the trip to the Basque restaurant for a memorable meal.

This was a good trip; it cleared my mind of the issues knocking around in there, showed me some things I hadn't seen in a long time, and tickled my funny bone when the big horse, Gambler, nuzzled my neck for about 5 minutes! My friend's husband made a ramp so Mia could get in and out of the back of the truck as she's too heavy for me to lift (she has hip dysplacia), which made both the trip back home, as well as future trips, much more do-able.

Doing the tourist thing in Virginia City, NV

We laughed ourselves silly after going into an antique shop in Virginia City and coming face-to-face with a plastic surgery nightmare: every square inch of the owner's face and body have been "done," and it isn't pretty! Her lips were so lipo'd that she had difficulty speaking clearly. When we saw the painting of a woman whose gown is made in silver dollars, we all agreed that the saleswoman must have been trying for the same look!

The Silver Queen's dress contains 3,261 silver dollars, which is eye-catching, but her huge, bulging lips have to be seen to be believed!

I helped feed horses and chickens, played with the dogs, enjoyed being a tourist and a houseguest, and volunteered to house-sit next summer. I needed the time and the space this year and am happy to repay the favor so they can enjoy their vacation next year.

I had such a great time!

Playing to Win

Yeah, I kinda like the Nintendo DSi, especially since I figured out how to use it and have my Brain Age in both #1 and #2 down into the 20s, instead of the 90s, where I began. It's been good for doing math computations in my head, finally forcing me to relearn the ones I always miss: the 7-8-9 combos. I'm rocking the 20-list, as well as the 100-computations list, seldom making a mistake; however, I have not taken the leap to the "hard" level ... yet.

What has me stuck is Professor Layton's Curious Village. After going on-line for the correct sequence for the wolves and bunnies, I am stuck upstairs, tasked with finding the cat that ran away, but not knowing how to accomplish that challenge. The directional arrows take me up the stairs, down the stairs, and back to the river crossing, but I can't find a way to actually leave the upstairs and/or the mansion to seek the cat. I've tapped on everything I can think of to tap, gathered quite a collection of gold coins, but am still going up the stairs/down the stairs.

Perhaps because this is supposedly an easy challenge, I can't find help. I've contacted both dotter and g'son, but they laugh at me: part of the game, it seems, is figuring it out, which is why I don't like to play games. If I get stuck, I need help so I can move on! I don't need to stay in one place, becoming more and more frustrated, repeating the same moves over and over in an endless loop! It's a game; it's supposed to be fun; if it isn't fun, I quit. I do not have the killer attitude that I have to win the game or suffer dire consequences from the failure to do so.

I'm appealing to the public for help. Just tell me what I'm missing so I can begin the search for the cat. How do I get out of the upstairs room and/or out of the downstairs room? You don't have to tell me how to find the cat: I just need to know how to stop going up and down the damned stairs!

Li-tra-chure by any other name is still a Good Read

I've been reading -- a lot. The good news is that I have already started developing the futures list, based on what's going to be published before the end of the year. I love having something to anticipate, especially after the empty hours that follow finishing a good read.

Child: Gone Tomorrow
Clark: Just Take My Heart
Coben: Long Lost
Connelly: The Scarecrow
Evanovich: Plum Spooky
Grisham: The Associate
Gross: Don't Look Twice
Jackson: Malice
Johannsen: Deadlock
Koontz: Good Guy
Patterson: 8th Confession
Patterson: Run For Your Life
Sandford: Wicked Prey
Scottoline: Look Again

I've never been able to finish Cornwell's Scarpetta as I find it totally tedious; I guess it's true that an author is only as good as his/her last book. I've read many of Cornwell's works and usually breeze right through them, but this one fails on so many levels that I am donating it to the library. Unfinished.

What I like about the authors on my done list is the ability to tell a good story. It doesn't have to be totally believable, as long as the basic plot and the characters can make it seem believable. One of my favorite stories is Koontz's Good Guy, about a quiet, unassuming man who unwittingly becomes involved in a murder for hire plot. He could walk away, but he doesn't because walking away means that someone will die. A person who has that knowledge and does nothing to prevent it from happening is no better than the person who actually commits the murder. Tim doesn't walk away, and therein lies a good tale.

I was totally captivated by the made-for-TV movie, Taking Chance, starring Kevin Bacon, about a Marine Corps colonel who serves as an escort for the remains of a young private killed in battle. What impresses me with the film are the dignity, the respect, and the honor shown to this fallen warrior as he makes his final journey home. The Marine who wrote the initial story, Col Strobl, is a real man (and interviewed, along with Chance's family) who is forever changed by his experience as an escort, which he detailed in a short story that found its way onto the web, and then into the hands of someone who thought it would make a good movie. It does.

Oops: almost forgot another DVD hit: Taken. It's bold, it's bloody, and it's not for the faint of heart, but he did warn the kidnappers that they messed with the wrong guy. Kinda reminds me of the old Lethal Weapon films: totally over the top, but what the hey! With a cold beer and a bowl of freshly-popped, buttered popcorn, there are worse ways to spend 90 minutes.

It's good to know, however, that if I run out of books and/or DVDs, there are still endless Law and Order and CSI marathons any hour of any day!