I Remember Keith Roma

(The following is my, hopefully humble, tribute to one of the victims of 9/11, a former student, undertaken as part of Project 2,996. Go to the website and use the links to learn about the real live human beings lost. )

The Keith Roma who called his father from Fire Patrol 2 in Greenwich Village on 9/11 was not the one I once knew. He was not a high school boy with a sheepish grin and an impish glint in his eye, a bright student always up for a bit of fun. The Keith Roma who picked up that phone on the last morning of his life to tell his Dad that the unthinkable had happened was a 27 year old man in the prime of life.

Responding to the World Trade Center after the first plane hit, Keith, who according to coworkers already had a reputation for being there when things got rough, was captured in a photograph as he helped evacuees to safety. According to Sgt. John Sheehan, his superior, Keith undertook another three trips into Tower 1. At one point, he is reported to have carried a woman with no shoes down glass-strewn stairs. The last time he was seen, he was with a group evacuating an overweight woman. Reports indicate that when his remains were found that Christmas, it was with those of another eight or nine people, leading to the supposition that he was assisting in yet another evacuation.

Initially, his name did not appear on the Fire Department tally of those lost because Keith worked for the Fire Patrol, an entity encharged with salvage at commercial fires. But in 2006, the New York Fire Department paid official tribute to his memory in a bronze plaque. Firefighters across the country have honored him as one of their own. Not all tributes have been that formal. His hometown paper reports that the week after the tragedy, his family was approached at the station house by a young woman bearing flowers. She explained that one afternoon, Keith had spotted her crying and learning that she was grieving the loss of her mother had ducked into a store only to reappear with a bouquet. It was a kindness she did not forget and which she sought to return. A former coworker at a second job also attests to his kindness and concern. All remember his ready smile and enthusiasm, particularly for sports.

There is a picture at a memorial website of Keith holding his daughter as an infant. There is the same expression I remember, that trademark grin. There is no indication in the photo that it is the face of a young man who would race into a burning building to rescue others, who would perish in the line of duty. In short, that it is the face of heroism. Vaya con Dios, Keith, you have not been forgotten.

Quip for Today, Or What We Put Up With Daily

As I was going out of my way yesterday to help a member of the public, the gentleman- who is married to a Costa Rican lady- inquired as to my heritage. When I replied that I was Cuban, he remarked that he was desperate to visit Cuba "before it changed."

"Oh," I inquired with as much insouciance as I could muster, "You mean while the people are still impoverished and oppressed?"

Very Late Rendition

As ImPOTUS keeps running for President on the telly, I'll play some catch-up.

Slicing. While I'm on wordplay, I have to highlight Paco's "Purge" post, notable not only for its point, but also for its incisive diction. I'll leave you to pick your own favorite. I can't decide between the stolen hubcap and the metaphorical pike. But then there's the tin foil hat. Oh, well.

Dicing. An interesting read at the Heritage Foundation as to why unions are backing healthcare reform. I was wondering. But with the recent transmogrification of unions, who knows?

Cutting. I love Big Hollywood. In this, Lou Aguilar makes the leap from cinema to the political arena when he maintains that the magnitude of the error in electing the present administration makes it that much easier to correct. From his keyboard to God's ears.

Chewing. Just as a point of interest, this CNN report about some more holiday visitors to the Cape.... Cape Cod, that is. Nothing special, just brings back memories of the "Summer of the Shark." Ah, remember when.

Read: Between Bestsellers

If like me, you're all read up on your favorite writers, just salivating for the next novel; then, you are also in search of writers yet to be discovered. I stumbled on Les Roberts' Milan Jacovich series during a dry spell. Milan is a Slovenski detective in Cleveland. By the way, great detective fare.

More recent finds include two detective series set in Britain between the wars. Both provide a sense of life in the interval. First is the "Her Royal Spyness" Series by Rhys Bowen which chronicles the adventures of the genteelly impoverished Lady Georgiana, 34Th in line for the throne who finds herself enmeshed in murders while struggling to stay afloat. The latest- Royal Flush- has Wallis Simpson in an unflattering cameo. Enjoyable. Set slightly earlier in the same era, though in more plebeian circles are Jacqueline Winspear's Maisie Dobbs novels. A bit more serious than the Bowen, centered on the the after effects of WWI.

Just waiting for the new Conroy to hit my library shelves.

Literary Interlude: Shakespeare for All Occasions

I had posted the last entry at Babalu yesterday eve when the theme of the week came to me. There was Beck; there was Fontova's reminder of the abomination of the UN's d'Escoto naming the tyrant "a Hero of Solidarity"; and that last petulant comment about a "cosmetic coat of paint." So, here goes:

Lay not that flattering unction to your soul,
That not your trespass but my madness speaks;
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen.
Hamlet, Act III, Scene 4

What an image! Gotta love the Bard.

It's The Embargo, Stupid!

The AFP informs that Thursday's State Department easing of remittance and family travel restrictions didn't go far enough for the Cuban dictatorship. The tone of the denunciation decrying the move as a "cosmetic coat of paint," something they know a thing or two about, would seem to strike a harsh note.

Of course, it is not unusual for an American President to have his outstretched hand slapped away. Still, some clues to the frenetic tone of the response can be found here. It's the embargo they want lifted, d'ya think?

Cross-posted at Babalublog

Briefs

Caller to an AM radio show about Congress: "Sometimes I think we might be better off with the first 535 names in the jury pool."

***

Caught Laura Ingraham, filling in for O'Reilly on Tues night, debating Dr. Lamont Hill about healthcare in Cuba. Anyone who still believes in the great Cuban healthcare hoax is invited to visit The Real Cuba here. Access to what? Of course, if you are a foreigner, that's another whole kettle of fish.

***

As me old mum used to say, "A santo de que" is it necessary for Herr Obama to speak to the tr...oops...children. I might almost believe Mr. Beck is onto something. Now if they start asking the children to close their eyes and ask the President for candy, I'll really smell a rat.

***

An elegant suggestion for parents, whatever your persuasion, keep your kid home that day. If Mr. Obama were truly interested in teaching a civics lesson, he should have included the opposition. Hey, you think this might be an exercise in desensitization?

Sunday Brunch

Scrambled. On Townhall this week is an insightful and damning column about Obamian policy toward Latin America, particularly valuable for it's coverage of the latest goings on in Venezuela. Couple it with the threats of cutting off aid to Honduras that have been coming out of State, and you are left to conclude that Mona Charen is right. They just don't know who our friends are.

Revoltillo. On the domestic front, last Friday's column by Don Gainor is a must read, if only for its opener. Yes there is revolt in the air, Kennedy demise or no Kennedy demise, and the internet helps fuel and foment it. It seems that the Dems taught bloody instructions when they went after Bush with the long knives. (Allusions, anyone?) Payback is no lady.

Benedict. I've brought up the great question as to what's killing the honeybees, a more immediate concern than global warming. From the AP via Fox comes the latest installment in the mystery. Stay tuned. Even the last installment from Laurie King, The Language of Bees, set in the Victorian world of Sherlock Holmes has as a central motif the dying off of hives.

Poached. Although the core of this effort by Stanley Fish in the New York Times revolves around a report by ACTA, the American Council of Trustees and Alumni, as to what should be taught in colleges, including a discussion of his differences over the specific content to be taught in literature classes, it is worthy of a read if only because of what it conveys about the teaching of writing. Brain food.

Hard-Boiled. Every once in a while, I promise myself that I'll read something of note, something deep. I carry around in my purse a dog-eared list of CS Lewis' titles I mean to read some day. Guess I'll have to add another one from this book review in The Weekly Standard. Guess I should start with the Chesterton book; I've only ever read Father Brown (?). Geesh, they're so erudite over there.

"He Who Controls the Present...

...controls the past" was the party slogan in George Orwell's 1984. Witness the travesty of Eric Holder's Department of Justice: charges of intimidation against three Black Panthers, at least one of whom carried a weapon, at a Philly polling station dropped, Gov. Bill Richardson, being investigated in a pay for play scandal in New Mexico, not to be charged, to be investigated with full bells and whistles, however, is the CIA for abuses against prisoners. It occurs to me Mr. Holder might want to expand his prosecutor's inquiry into such abuses as storming a private residence in the wee hours of the night and brandishing a rather large gun in the face of a terrified 7 year old. Yup, Elian. For Mr. Holder's state of contrition, read here.

As to the elaborate political ballet of President Obama's reluctance to pursue this line of inquiry, a Cuban wit might be tempted to say, "No quiero, no quiero, hechamelo en el sombrero.*"

*translates metaphorically to "Not that, not that, put it in my hat!"

Huh?

No offense, the man may be a genius, but how exactly does a Bachelor's Degree from a school of Labor Studies lead to the head of the New York Fed? Sounds pretty Castrian to me.

The Importance of Glenn Beck

Maybe he is a bit too histrionic; perhaps some of his views are reminiscent of the lone gunmen; whatever, Mr. Beck serves an important function as a counterweight to all the weight and mass of a media that is remiss in its obligations at best and either credulous or squarely partisan at worst. For instance, all this week, Beck is lifting the veil and outing the mess of radicals, cronies, and what not who serve in the Obama administration. The web of associations alone is enough to lead even the most reasonable to a degree of unease. It is also information I have yet to come across anywhere else in the Cable News world.

Not surprisingly, then, there is quite a bit of pressure to silence him. After he described President Obama as a racist who hates white people, ColorofChange.org orchestrated a campaign which purportedly resulted in at least 30 sponsors asking their spots not be shown during the program. I don't particularly agree with the comment, and I sorta wish he hadn't said it, but..... Gee, I don't remember that happening to Olbermann when he foamed at the mouth about Bush.

Although news accounts are bruiting the success of the organization in making sponsors run for the hills, a bit of research shows that some major corporations such as Clorox have actually pulled their advertising from political programming on all the cable networks. I pass the information along, including two websites that have been created in support of Beck here and here. Article here.

By the bye, one of the founders of ColorofChange.org is supposedly Van Jones, the green jobs Czar in the current administration.

Mr. Jones about the effect of being arrested after the Rodney King verdict:

"I met all these young radical people of color -- I mean really radical, communists and anarchists. And it was, like, 'This is what I need to be a part of.' I spent the next ten years of my life working with a lot of those people I met in jail, trying to be a revolutionary. I was a rowdy nationalist on April 28th, and then the verdicts came down on April 29th. By August, I was a communist."

The head of the White House Council on Environmental Quality about Mr. Jones:

Van Jones has been a strong voice for green jobs and we look forward to having him work with departments and agencies to advance the President’s agenda of creating 21st century jobs that improve energy efficiency and utilize renewable resources. Jones will also help to shape and advance the Administration’s energy and climate initiatives with a specific interest in improvements and opportunities for vulnerable communities.

Meanderings: Losses of All Kinds

The other day, Val at Babalu linked to an interview with one of the grand ladies of Cuban song, Olga Guillot. Listening was a bittersweet experience for me, as the people who introduced me to Olga in the form of a "longplain," my parents, are no longer around. Olga's very Cuban speech evoked my very real sense of loss.

I've lost much in the past few years, whether the last vestiges of youth, or the daughter who followed her dream out to the West Coast. The loss of my mother, painful as it still is, signalled yet another loss. My house, which for decades rang with the sounds of family- the loudest, Cuban- is strangely silent. And if you can be said to rattle around in four rooms, I do so. There is no one to cook for, no one to take care of, no one with whom to speak Spanish in a natural, spontaneous way. There is no one to bathe my kitchen within a three foot radius of the stove in oil from cooking masitas de puerco.

You see, I not only lost my mother, but I lost a part of myself. As a child, growing up in a world which judged me and mine, I hated being different. I thought there would be nothing better in the world than to be named Holly or something equally Anglo, to have parents with freckles who didn't think the Girl Scouts were a potentially life-threatening organization (something about lakes) and who didn't roll their r's. And now, here I am in white bread Sarasota, just about the entire older generation gone, my contemporaries like me, more comfortable in English, and terribly diminished. I have no more immediate Cuban ties, other than those to the relatives left behind. In a weird irony, I have realized a childhood dream only to find it is more of a pesadilla* from which I will not wake up and be comforted by Mami.

*bad dream, not quite as dramatic as a nightmare.

In Which I am Confused and Horrified over Healthcare

Since there is no clear outline of the details of the various healthcare bills being considered (maybe I'm crazy, but I have this thought that in the dim mists of my youth the Daily News would have had the competing bills broken down to bullet points) in their absence I am left to contemplate all sorts of things. I object to any one of the bills first and foremost because, overdrawn as we are, this is not the time to get into a massive spending program. We seem to have done enough of that in the past half year or so.

But the other night, I was shocked to hear Dick Morris indicate that the Medicare HMO's will be gone under the overhaul. I lived this with my now deceased mother, who was hemorrhaging money until Bush upped the reimbursement rate and the HMO's returned to Sarasota. Have you ever noticed that the very same politicians who vaunt the public school system all the while they send their own children to private schools are the same ones who hail Medicare? Memo: Medicare pays 80% of what they decree a medical service is worth which is not usually what the provider charges. Unless the provider accepts assignment, which not everyone does, the senior pays the 20% balance plus the difference. It adds up, as seniors are prone to a range of illnesses and conditions.

Of course, not having read them, I'm not sure what's in any of the bills. I'm not alone, though, seems the pols haven't either.

Where's the Beef?

Watching the Dems attempting to wrest control of these town halls from screaming geriatric mobs, I am struck by the dearth of details about this plan. While they accuse the opposition of spreading misinformation, they provide little of the details, that well-known habitation of the devil. It's the details that are telling. The President assures us that there are no "death panels." I believe him. But given the huge amounts of money involved, you can bet that there will be some mechanism to tamp costs down, else the country goes bankrupt. One man's review committee is another's death panel. Much of the discussion such as it is seems a tad disingenuous.

Then there are the angry ones. One senator, attempting to control the crowd, asks whether they think they are persuading anyone. The point she misses is that this is not about persuasion; it is about being heard. Healthcare reform is just the catalyst for voicing the growing disaffection of many. I'd venture to guess that a lot of people are very nervous about the huge amounts of deficit spending and the seeming incompetence of the present Congress. They have no voice, however. Dems seem hell bent on pursuing their agenda, constituents be damned. The media chooses to ignore or belittle those who don't agree with the present administration. Is it any wonder that there is frustration?

Yes, elections have consequences, but no administration gets everything it wants. In fact, one could argue that it is because of the scope of what they have rushed through up until now that there is resistance to having an amorphous blob of a thousand page bill rammed through. The great plans of Presidents are subject to the will of the people. The people are worried. Some are even angry. Does anyone even know what's in this bill? Or is the public being asked to accept another pig in a poke?

Low Human Being of the Month Award: Updated

For years I've watched Bono's philanthropic efforts with suspicion, waiting for the shoe to drop. Well, last week the recording superstar demonstrated his true caliber. Good thing I stopped listening to U2 since The Joshua Tree. That he should have differences with President Bush and seek to avoid his overtures discreetly is, I guess, within the pale. One has to wonder given Bono's ostensible devotion to Africa why he would turn his back on the President who has done the most for that benighted continent. But then if he were a brain surgeon, he wouldn't be a rock star. That he should feel the need to demonstrate how cool he is by showing off about the slight is petty and base. What, are we in high school?

You can say whatever you want about George Bush, but the man has class, which is more than you can say about the majority of his detractors.

Update: Got a hold of the YouTube of the original interview. Although he calls himself a coward for dodging the Bush hug and acknowledges what Bush did, I leave it for you to decide. It's interesting to see the variation in how this story was reported in the different media outlets.

Meanderings: The Lady or the Tiger

I've been toying with the notion of posting on the brouhaha over the arrest of the Harvard professor of color and the President's unwise foray into the melee. Let's start with the initial incident. Do read some of the reports as to the specifics. "You don't know who you're dealing with" Harvard professor indicates to responding policeman in all his erudite glory, that "Yo momma" is going to go outside to speak to same officer. Now anyone past the age of puberty can tell you that reference to an officer of the law's progenitrix is a sure invitation to the pokey.

Since, affirmative action or not, a Harvard academic is presumably intelligent, one can only suppose that Gates was so irate that his valor overcame his discretion. In short, he lost it. So far I've been having a bit of fun, but it bears thinking on. What is it that would affect him so? To the professor's mind, this situation was but a variant of the "driving while black," a phenomenon occurring just often enough to keep it in the back of every African-American mind. For it is the sad truth, whether discrimination or probability, every law abiding person of color is subject to false assumptions in a way his or her white brother is not.

Members of minority groups can be hypersensitive when it comes to a perceived slight, but at the same time, in some cases perception is reality. I can remember my parents with their Hispanic names and accents at the bank where they would be forced to provide all sorts of identification. Of course, they would ascribe it to discrimination. I used to think they were being hypersensitive until I noticed that when I went alone, I wasn't asked for anything of the sort.

All of this rambling leads me to my own brush with the sometime arbitrary exercise of police power, or the time when I was stopped for "driving while in a white Escort." So there I was, middle-aged friend in tow, driving in my little white Ford Escort when I was pulled over by flashing lights, etc... "What did I do?" I asked the officer with the sunglasses, doubtless affected to look cool but which looked more like he had cut them out of cellophane. I received no answer but was instead required to provide all of my papers. All this while the partner leaning over the passenger window was shaking his head and stifling a giggle. Me, I was horrified. I knew I hadn't done anything. Was there a mass murderer, drug dealer, or even teenage thief, even now making his getaway in a stolen white Ford Escort? Nah.

I decided the guy was a horse's ass. I, following operative rule number one while dealing with an officer of the law with equine tendencies, refrained from pointing out this fact. Later my friend and I decided he pulled us over thinking we were two little chippies. So while I never got any satisfaction, neither did he.

So Sad

When the Congressional Black Caucus took its junket to Cuba earlier this year, they were criticised by Conservative pundits for failing to include a visit to the prison cell of Oscar Elias Biscet in their itinerary. The Capos in Havana are quite good at hiding the true face of their regime from the rest of the world. The case of Dr. Biscet, however, is one that speaks volumes about the true nature of their crimes.

Jailed as a threat to the government, sentenced to 25 years in a hell hole, Biscet's crime was to believe in the dignity of the human being and to demand that the government respect that dignity. For this crime, he has been jailed since 2003. Recently, Rudy Mayor over at The Politics of Freedom has posted some of a letter written by Dr. Biscet. Those words speak volumes about the man:

"Today, on the eve of my 48th birthday, I write these lines from prison cell #1232. If this testimony from the box where I have been unjustly forced to live for almost 10 years now is of some interest to mankind, then publish it.

When I began advocating the philosophies of Gandhi and Thoreau, I remember those who commented that I would soon begin walking through the streets of Havana in a loincloth like Gandhi. Upon hearing these insults, I'd simply smile, as surely I would soon be subjected to this condition -- not in the streets of Havana, but in the indefinite confinement that I would face for such advocacy. Those that resorted to such insults, seeking to humiliate me, would not be mistaken after all, but it is through the humiliation of a man in loincloth that human dignity is reflected over barbarism.

When you ask me how I am doing, and I tell you that I am resisting, it is because the environment I find myself in is too brutal for any civilized man imprisoned for promoting ideas of love, the respect for human rights and the defense of life. Yet, I thank God as I awake every day, for in this dark and lonely cell, I know He is with me."

- Dr. Oscar Elias Biscet, Cuban pro-democracy leader and Amnesty International prisoner of conscience serving a 25-year sentence, in a letter to his wife and the world.

Tomorrow students in Washington DC will be doing their part to help. Read about it here.

h/t Jose at Cubanology

Monday Morning Miscellanea

Facts and Figures. In this WSJ article, Mort Zuckerman- a man I respect- informs us that things are worse than they seem. Aside from backing up Biden's assessment of the economy, he sees the need for a real stimulus, one that consists of infrastructure projects. You decide.

Fact and Fallacy. Bill O'Reilly takes on Palin critics over at Townhall, arguing that the attacks are meant to marginalize Palin, but more importantly to neutralize growing criticism of the growing government takeover of everything. I know he didn't just realize it's a left/media braintrust at work. I suspect he was trying to be fair to the new administration, but he's a little late to the fair, nonetheless. Read it here.

Fact and Feature. Over at National Review, David Kahane presents a series of comparisons that range from Entourage to Gone With The Wind, culminating in a parallel between the One and Evita of "Don't cry for me, Argentina" fame as the basis for a remake of the original show. Somewhere in "their," he manages a few well-aimed swipes at Sotomayor. Most notable for the prodigious number of modifiers. Silly, but point well-taken.

Fact and Fancy. Looking for something to do? Hop on a plane to Afghanistan, take a dangerous 7 hour car ride, and visit the Bamiyan, the site of the blown up Buddhas. Kid you not, according to FoxNews here, the government is gearing up, hoping to lure tourists the well-known site. They've got something there, but one can't help thinking they may have jumped the gun a bit.

Fact and Freak. It's alive! Yup, a mysterious blob up in Arctic waters, which stretches for miles, has turned out to be living, a massive bloom of algae. Read about it at Time. Also of interest is the nugget that the Maine coastline has been besieged by Red Tide, another algal bloom, one I know something about.

Fact and Factoid. Reading McCourt's obit, I came across this list of "100 all-Time Best Novels." For once, I've read a fair number of them. My vote for one and two positions, All The King's Men and Crime and Punishment. I'm pretty catholic in my tastes. (This last is an allusion to one of my favorite plays.) Tata.

Frank McCourt: Sad News

News is that Frank McCourt, author of Angela's Ashes, has passed away. I can still remember the God awful scenes in the book when his father would wake up the children in the middle of the night upon his return from the local pub and make them sing the Irish National Anthem or some such. I remember my mother, who read the book twice before she died, saying that it seemed like fiction, the way one calamity after another would befall the family.

May he be in heaven a half an hour before the devil knows he's dead.

Quote for the Evening

This one in which he describes his an encounter with Walter Cronkite from Kevin D Williamson in the National Review Media Blog.

It was the sort of experience that is tediously familiar to conservatives: You meet somebody who starts ranting in the most intemperate fashion about conservatives and/or Republicans, and it is clear that they cannot imagine that they might be speaking to one. (Harry Stein has a book out about this curious phenomenon.) Mr. Cronkite took it for granted that his opinions were shared, and shared because they were self-evidently true, and that seems to me to be the main defect of the media culture that holds him up as a hero.