The Day the Music Died

I am overwhelmed by sadness, not because of this bill...bills will come and go...but by what it represents. Already they are bruiting about all the wonderful things, like no pre-existing conditions, coverage until age 26, yada, yada, yada. But there is no such thing as a free lunch, folks. The government will now force you to have healthcare. The IRS will effectively decide what plan is acceptable, ergo the government will control the industry. A layer of government bureaucrats will be between the doctor, the insurers, and you. Scads of middle class people will be protected against catastrophic expenses on the backs of senior citizens, the segment of the population which can least afford to lose benefits. And the way this was passed... in direct contravention to the will of the people, its passage touted with the cynicism of a Hugo Chavez, or even a Fidel Castro, boggles the mind.

I sense that tonight is a turning point. That someday we will look back and see as in a Greek tragedy that this was the moment the idea of America died, although to me it started dying the day they imposed punitive taxation on one group, smokers, to openly transfer it to the children of others. Next comes the cap and trade and/or immigration. There is obviously not enough money to fund all these things. There is not enough now. So what will be the answer, a monumental tax increase?

Worse yet, by the time he and his henchpersons are finished, he will have fundamentally transformed the country as promised. I have to wonder if this was the "change" the independents wanted when they listened to the tripe being published in the media and elected a quasi socialist. Stupid, stupid, stupid. May God help America.

Overheard on the Airwaves

"The Dems believe history will prove them right" in reference to the healthcare bill. To my jaundiced ear, this morsel from a newscaster sounded very similar to the apocryphal statement attributed to Cuba's maximum leader that "History will absolve me." In either case, when political figures (and tyrants) lack present justification, it seems axiomatic that regardless whatever the lavish application of cosmetic, a pig is a pig is a pig, now and in the future.

Gulf Drilling Revived

No, not the US, silly. Russia is the latest country to announce it will partner with Cuba to drill in the Gulf of Mexico. Cuba watchers have seen a progression of countries and corporations do the same without tangible results. In any case although, as this editorial indicates, the drilling will be in acknowledged Cuban territory, one has to wonder whether the waters of the gulf will respect national claims in the case of a spill. Kinda leaves the administration high and dry (pun intended) on the ecological moral high ground.

American Troika

After hearing Pelosi's comments from on high, I use the term deliberately. Despite the overwhelming rejection of the American people, we are to have this monster medical overhaul, courtesy of Obama, Pelosi, and Reid. All that verbiage about the "consent of the governed" and the "will of the people" is apparently irrelevant. I mean I'll spot them the "consent of the governed," construing it as the result of the elections, but what is the function of Nancy Pelosi and any other elected official but to carry out the will of the people? And the people do not want this.

Does anyone at this point know what's in the thing? We started out with two differing bills, numbering in the thousands of pages. We have yet to see what's in the Frankenstein monster they're cobbling together behind closed doors. No one actually knows what the results of the sweeping changes will be. Think unintended consequences. Most critical, however, is the reasoning behind the political machinations to ram this bill through.

It's apparent that the public in the main wants no part of it, so why pass the thing? Do they suppose that Americans will forget by election time; that the public is so stupid it has been duped by the Right and that it is up to the Democrats to chase us down and make us swallow our medicine; or is it that the majority is immoral to cavil at the expense of yet another entitlement when we can't fund those entitlements already law and thus must be forced into virtue?

There are those who frame the current fight over healthcare as a battle for our Constitutional principles. It is not a big leap to that conclusion when we see the expedients to which Pelosi et al will resort to impose their views on an unwilling public. If nothing else, the passage of Obamacare will be the triumph of the Democrat will. How does this differ from others who rule by fiat?

Get the broom out, folks. November can't get here soon enough.

Healthcare: A Logical Inquiry

In all the discussions of the health care bill, no one has raised a question that's been bothering me. It is my understanding that benefits will not begin until the fifth year of the plan, while funding will begin from year one. It would seem that the last six years of said plan will eat up ten years of funds. If it takes ten years to pay for six, what does that portend for the second decade of Obamacare?

Meanderings: What Might Have Been

It all started with a bit of basic arithmetic. In reference to the aforementioned job.... I work eight and a half hours a day. Add in commuting, making it nine. Get home about five, exhausted, then have to go to bed about ten, which leaves me five hours for relaxing, television watching, reading, housework, and more meaningful pursuits. The conclusion is obviously that I spend the majority of my day at work. Now I'm not crying for myself-at least not too much- as this is the reality of everybody who works for a living. Some people work many more hours and/or have a much longer commute. But the brain fart did lead to a revelation of sorts.

Periodically, voices from the past surface, some who were fellow students, work colleagues, and the like. Invariably, they are now at the pinnacle of their careers. See, unlike me, they kept the faith. It is at moments like this that I confront a truckload of regret. We set out on the same starting line, but like that hare of lore, I who had all the advantages dallied under the nearest tree. Now they are successful, and I am not. Working my tush off in a job well below my earning power, skills, and education, I find myself occasionally partaking in a sizable serving of humble pie. My New Age friends would say that life puts you where you need to be, confronts you with the lessons you need to learn. In that case, a bit of humility would not come amiss, I guess.

The funny thing is that these friends often express their own regrets. At times, amazingly, they seem to envy me. So as I was doing my mental calculations, a fierce thought rose in me: I resent every single hour I have to take away from my life to earn a living. I know the delicious sensation of waking without a single, scheduled obligation, declaring my own Law and Order marathon; the warmth and happiness occasioned by the play of sunlight coming through the window in the middle of the day; the sense of achievement when caulking a window or just mowing my own lawn, working as yet another few hours of diversion. Of course that renders you less independent but makes for a very pleasant life. Camus has Meursault say that nothing, nothing but the sheer act of living has any importance. Perhaps that is the notion that has guided me, for good or ill.

There are other reasons, beyond my control, that I never achieved what I could have, never gone for that brass ring. My mother would say, Dios le da barba al que no tiene quijada. So it goes, whatever we think is an Andersonian lie. And, oh, by the way, I love my humble job.

*Although this is a very personal- and one might say, self-pitying- rumination, I offer it as one perspective. I find that the women of my generation, the first to take advantage of the achievements of women's movement, is at this point in their lives very ambivalent about the choices they have made, myself included.

Payback is a Female Dog

As a resident of Sarasota, Florida who has the misfortune to be addicted to nicotine, I have endured much at the hands of the local schoolmarms who run our government. I can not smoke on the mile wide beach. I can not work for the county government: smokers need not apply. My state legislators are no better, balancing their budget on my back. And my bete noire of the moment is Congressman Vern Buchanan, who giving into personal prejudice, violated Republican ideals and voted for the Democrat cigarette tax increase forcing me to pay for the healthcare of others as well as my own. Mel Martinez only escaped my wrath by retiring.

In effect, I am paying taxes, but no one is representing my interests. Does taxation without representation sound familiar? Now just about March 16th, the local school board is looking for voters to renew an additional school tax we habitually impose on ourselves. I have always been a faithful supporter of the measure. Guess what I'm doing this year? It ain't voting "yes." If my local government considers me less than human, I won't sully their hands with my nicotine-stained dollars. Heck, if I could figure out a way to avoid paying taxes to them at all, I would.

I'm just not on a soapbox here. The School District has been spending like drunken sailors on school construction, building opulent child warehouses, when smaller schools are more effective. All of which makes it easier to just say "no."

Denial and Reality: An Epiphany of Sorts

The virtual hemorrhage of federal money, the unchecked government spending, scares me, as it scares many of my fellow citizens. The situation is unconscionable, as well as untenable. If nothing else, what right do we have to saddle our progeny with our debts...and for what? Acorn?

The willful blindness afflicting our elected representatives is truly astounding. Since most of them have never worked up a bad, let alone good, sweat in their working careers, I offer them a test. Let's call it the sofa test. You see, the numbers these politicians wield are abstractions to them, bandied about with little recognition of just what those numbers represent. I would ask, "How many sofas should a mover carry on his back to fund pig smell studies in Iowa?" Picture a septic tank cleaner: "How many septic tanks must he pump to fund the National Endowment of the Arts?"

Seen in this light, you have to rethink the role of the federal government. Many of the recipient programs are laudable. They are nice things, but they are not in the rightful purview of government. After much thought, it seems to me that the federal government, just as a private family in straitened circumstances, needs to concentrate on its core obligations- in this case: national security, some sort of social safety net so that no one dies on the streets of hunger, and others.

As things stand, it seems that Congress is in the grip of a mass hysteria, playing a bit of Handel as the HMS State slowly submerges. The woods are burning, boys.

Apology

When I began this blog, I was not working. Later I started working part time. With the current state of the economy, I am now working full time. My situation has resulted in very little time to post. I miss blogging and am working out some scheme to continue. Still unsure how I am going to accomplish it.

Prisoner of Conscience Orlando Zapata Tamayo Dies

It is with great sadness that I note the passing of yet another noble and brave soul in the Castrian Gulag. Zapata Tamayo's demise, the result of a hunger strike undertaken in protest of inhuman conditions compounded by those same conditions, has unleashed a new wave of repression on the island.

Springtime for Hitler Sarasota Style

There is a perhaps apocryphal but oft told story in Sarasota that in the days when the town was being developed, one nabob, concerned, inquired where their gardeners would live if real estate prices kept rising. The answer supplied by one of his confreres was "Bradenton," a neighboring town. Our local version of the "let them eat cake" scenario came to mind when I found out about this. Yes, folks, the great political minds and philanthropic hearts of the Sarasota Yacht Club really are holding a "Regatta" to Havana. Of course, the regatta is one way. If memory serves...and it doesn't always these days... Cubans aren't even allowed to fish. In any event, the notion is so ludicrous, absurd, that it brought all sorts splendid parallels to mind, ergo the title here.

The conclusion here is that those in power at the Yacht Club are either completely clueless or completely impervious to the misery of their fellow man, or both; else they would not lend countenance to a murderous, repressive regime or celebrate the "golden age of clubs" with those who destroyed them. The thought that these people can go down there in their nifty boats with their nifty clothes and their nifty food in their slightly over-sized bellies amid the hunger, misery and squalor being inflicted on the Cuban people by their hosts is mind-boggling. The moral equivalent to organizing a cross-country ski trip to Stalin's Siberia, it is a stain on the name of Sarasota. They might have been better served if they had consulted the former members of the Havana Yacht Club. Incredible.

H/T Ziva

The State of the Democrat

I confess I've given up watching the Obamantics. Still, I did surf by a few times yesterday evening. Was it me, or was there a frenzied aspect to the Dems hoorahs, a sort of relief that their champion had entered the lists?

The Measure of a Man

This morning, “Morning Joe” referred to an earlier visit by Sting. I’m mad at Sting. I’m mad at the Pope, too. Their behavior and that of others glosses over of a multitude of mortal sins committed against the people of Cuba by the ruling military junta. It is a betrayal that says it is acceptable to oppress Cubans, as long as you loosen up a little, like complementing a mugger kneeling on a victim for easing the pressure on the hapless individual’s chest.

The offense here is beyond political; it is more catholic (couldn’t resist). It is the denial of the humanity of the poor benighted souls who languish in the island prison. The framers of the American Constitution tallied a slave as three-fifths of a man. The question that occurs to me is what fractional percentage of a human being is a Cuban? When rock stars sally on down, does it occur to them that the pool boy with the MD slinging towels does not have the same right to visit, say, Pasadena? When Carlos Santana wears his Che shirt is he reminded of the young people harassed and threatened for wearing one with Cambio written on it, imagine an emblazoned Ronald Reagan? Does it ever occur to Sting that if he were an ordinary Cuban, “Socialista” would be owned by the Socialistas? And Spielberg, who has ensured that the Holocaust stays in the public consciousness, sits across from the charismatic sociopath for hours. When he later says Cuban Americans should get over it, even as the embers of the Cuban variant continue to smolder, does he not recognize the contradiction?

Of course not. There is an insidious relativism that infects the perceptions of each and every one of those who serve as apologists for the revolution. Achievements in literacy and healthcare are touted ad inifintum. Current conditions are seen as an improvement over those in the bad old days. For the sake of argument, let us agree to these, although inaccurate. Even if everything they perceive is true, even if the evil Bastianos in Miami were oppressing the mass of Cuban humanity, further, even if Batista was a Caribbean Pol Pot, can there be any justification for the denial of the most basic of human rights now? Did Cubans sell their birthright as human beings for a bowl of ration card soup? Are they human beings or trained chimps to be fed a plate of scraps, treated by the vet, and kept in a cage? Not a single one of the enlightened who criticize US policy would want to live under the boot of the Cuban system. Yet these seemingly well-intentioned people accept the denial of the same rights they enjoy. Does it then follow that Cubans are less than they are?

In the end, there is no reasoning with evil. No amount of diplomacy or pussyfooting, American tourism or credit, is going to occasion the regime to self-immolate. Until it does, any affirmation of the ruling cadre is, in effect, a denial of the humanity of the Cuban people.

Literary Interlude: A Bit of The Bard

...I am a Jew.
Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs,
dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with
the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject
to the same diseases, healed by the same means,
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as
a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison
us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not
revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will
resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian,
what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian
wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by
Christian example? Why, revenge. The villany you
teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I
will better the instruction.

from Merchant of Venice, Act 3, sc.1

Developments yesterday brought to mind Shylock's speech and the long painful and ongoing struggle of the Jewish people. So to my Jewish friends and family I extend a heartfelt "Happy Holiday!"

Of Tragedies and Travesties

In Cuba today, small numbers of dissidents attempted to mark International Human Rights Day with a demonstration as has been their custom these past few years. As in past years, they were confronted by government organized mobs whose sole purpose is to heckle and beat the hardy souls. This year a key figure, Dr. Darsi Ferrer, was absent having been earlier imprisoned- ostensibly for buying black market building materials. His wife fully intended to complete their yearly circuit of the park, running the gauntlet of taunts and blows. Apparently, her plans were short circuited by State Security. As of this writing, it is unknown whether this was just an instance of catch, threaten, and release or whether like her husband she is to be held under trumped up charges.

Even as this was goin' down we might say, the Pontiff in Rome was welcoming the new Cuban Ambassador to the Vatican and extolling the growing religious freedom in the country, advocating reconciliation with the United States and lamenting the embargo. Reading news reports was an exercise in dramatic irony.

Here's the movie version. The scene opens, picture like an Angels and Demons backdrop, all the pomp and regalia of mother church. The Holy Father approaches, greets the dignitary. Cut to the crumbling facade of a small home in Havana. A woman emerges, her clothing threadbare; a car swooops in; State Security operatives seize her despite protests, and drive away in a scene worthy of Z. Back at the Vatican, the Pope remarks on growing religious freedom in Cuba, sees an opening for reconciliation with the United States. Cut to the park in Havana, scenes of a handful of individuals attempting only to circuit the park once in order to mark Human Rights Day. There is jostling, haranguing, hitting as they are overwhelmed by the hundreds trucked in for the occasion.

As half a world away the prelate proffers his sympathy to the Cuban people for their suffering not because of the Stalinist dictatorship they have endured for half a century, not for the deprivation of their freedoms, not for the perpetual misery brought on by economic mismanagement; but for economic downturns, natural disasters, and even the embargo. The embargo on human rights goes unnoted. Back to the park in Havana, where the mob handlers have denied their stooges bathroom privileges, so needed are their acting abilities. Key in on the growing stain of menstrual blood on one of the "socialism or death" crowd. Fade that red into the red ecclesiastical sash of a prelate at the Vatican.
Whatcha think? Am I on to somethin'?

*I have taken much dramatic license, but the facts are just that- facts.

Read: A (Young) Teen Title

If you have an adolescent in your home, you might find yourself in my position, that is beating the bushes for a book that does not involve intimacy with the living dead. I have nothing against vampires per se. As a librarian, I read an early copy of Twilight and passed it on to others, although I have to say that had I known there would be another umpteen books with less savory plot lines, I might have hesitated in sending it to my niece.

So here I am, trying to find a decent title for this year's Christmas present. In this context I come across a new (to me) genre: steampunk. If you want a definition, look it up 'cause I can't explain it. It kinda reminds me of the modernist movement, lots of machinery. Anyway, to make a long story short I pick up Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld. The first fifty pages I almost put it down, thinking "I'm too old for this...." There's a young prince Alek whose parents have been murdered forcing him to flee for his life in a "walker," which is fitting since he is Austrian and a "Clanker." Switch to England, home of the "Darwinists," and a variety of misbegotten creatures, as well as young Deryn Sharp, a young girl masquerading as a boy so she can be a midshipman. From there the plot thickens. And you begin to realize it all sounds a bit like the beginnings of WWI. You get the point.

Suddenly I am interested and I realize that this is "alternative history" as the author terms it, at the same time that it is a story about growing up. By the end I'm waiting for the next installment, 'cause you know one is down the pike somewhere. Loved the illustrations by Keith Thompson, too. By the way, the Leviathan of the title is a huge inflatable whale of sorts, a species (pardon the pun) of zeppelin.

It's listed most places as a young adult book. I'd peg it on the lower part of that range, although I enjoyed it. For what it's worth.

Pithy Observation of the Eve

After seeing photos of Obama's jobs summit and getting a gander at who was-SEIU- and was not invited-the Chamber of Commerce- one has to conjecture that the entire proceeding might have been a tad more productive had the attendees actually created a job or two in the past. Just a thought. Was that Thomas L Friedman I saw?

Of Kangaroos and Courts

Let's see here.... The administration maintains that the 9/11 mastermind et al can be ably tried by our justice system. The President says that KSM will be convicted and sentenced to death. Huh? If there is no doubt of the outcome, what function does providing this opportunity for the opposition to spout their hateful ideology serve? Silly me. I forgot. It placates the ACLU and provides a marvelous distraction in the form of Bush bashing.

Now when a liberal judge hurls the charges from his courtroom as fruit of the poisoned waterboard, although they won't introduce that evidence, we are not to worry that the malefactors will be released. I did notice that Holder today used the terms that KSM would not walk our streets, which leads me to wonder whether he will walk the dusty streets of Peshawar and plot anew. Conversely, perhaps they can prosecute him for jaywalking in Guantanamo or violating the civil rights of those Americans pulverized by his machinations. Holy Doublespeak.

In any case, isn't there something Castroesque, Hitleresque, Stalinesque out of trying someone for show when the result is foreordained? I mean if the administration's point is that they, like good lawyers, believe in the legal system, why don't they trust it? I have not the smallest iota of an iota of compassion for the 9/11 crowd, but I'm seriously perturbed by a proceeding that smacks of cynicism. Much better, at least more honest, to haul them up before the military as enemy combatants who murdered three thousand American citizens and put them out of our misery forthwith.

That's Gratitude for You!

Just finished reading a letter from Citibank regarding my credit card, the interest rate of which they are raising to 18.99%. In the old days a rate like that was near usury. The hubster, having read a similar missive earlier in the day, called to complain. From what I gather he used the "we bailed you out and this is what we get" approach, followed by "the interest is 0" stratagem. When the young man at the other end of the line maintained that they paid considerably more, the hubster quickly countered with "You don't pay me that on my savings." Alas, all his sallies produced nothing, not even sympathy. So he cancelled the account. Easy for him: he owes like 14 dollars.

I'm in a slightly different situation, but I can transfer or pay off the balance- uncomfortable as the latter alternative might be- which I intend to do. What happens to people without resources?
If they are charging me with my nifty credit score this rate, just how much are they charging more marginal types? By the bye, hubby's rate was two points lower, despite his paying both bills.

A close friend of my Dad's, unashamedly alcoholic, could always be counted on for a snarky saying or two. He used to say that if you saw someone drowning, you should step on him to make sure, 'cause that sucker is going to take you down, too. I always considered it a horrendous thought. In the case of Citi, maybe he was on to something. Obscene.

Is Obama American?

No, no, this isn't about the infamous phantom birth certificate. Nor am I implying that the President is un-American in the stereotypical perjorative sense. No, this is deeper.

In a conversation a while back someone told me, "I don't consider him an American. Look where he grew up. Look at the people who surrounded him. He doesn't know what it is to go to little league games...." Now I don't know if he ever played little league, although he does make rather a show of playing basketball, but I do know that the President, the reputedly great orator, demonstrates a certain tone deafness when it comes to Mom, flag, and apple pie. Ms. Calabaza points out a faux pas here, not the first one, I might add.

Another case in point is the apparently lukewarm nature of his comments on the Fort Hood Massacre. My own observations of the response were similar: Clinton would have felt their pain; Bush would have been hugging the families of the fallen, while vowing to see justice done; Obama, however, strangely removed, almost wooden, treats it as a parenthetical element in a shoutout to Native Americans. It can be argued that his reaction was a function of geography and personality. Northerner Mr. Obama would seem to live more in his head than the other two more emotive leaders with their Southern ties.

Whatever the case, El Presidente demonstrated an inability to gin up the emotion his churchgoing, gun-toting fellow Americans expect of their leader, and a tin ear when it came to just what those expectations were. Shouldn't need a weatherman.... (no pun intended.)