Wednesday, January 31, 2024

TRANSMOGRIFY

  How long has it been since Anita Hill (an attorney with the U.s. Dept. of Education) accused her boss Clarence Thomas (then U.S. Supreme Court nominee) of sexual harassment? I really doesn’t matter how long it’s been but it was about the time Rodney King (an intoxicated, unarmed black man who had been taken into custody after a high speed car chase) was brutally beaten in the street by Los Angeles police officers. The point is that police departments across the country have become not only aware but extremely sensitive to the possibility of having their unauthorized brutality filmed, of it turning up in internal investigations and on the evening news. But on the other end, at the Supreme Court, Clarence Thomas is still measuring out polarizing opinions that punish poor people of color and rewarding the (1% which is as rich & powerful as it is white). The King beating was on every news channel that night. I would never, not ever try to imagine what goes through Clarence Thomas' head or how he was transmogrified into such a champion for White Privilege. 
My reason for writing this piece began with words; I am drawn to words that get used infrequently but create a memorable sound bite when they do fall on a discerning ear. One of those words is ‘Transmogrify’. Garrison Keller (Prairie Home Companion) was a wordsmith who showed off his unparalleled vocabulary with neither shame nor pretense. He presumed his audience was equal to his verbiage. Occasionally, one of my word choices will carry a worthy pedigree but nothing like the literary plethora of a Garrison Keller phrase. It was an election year and Keller was ranting about Republicans apparent disregard for human dignity when he dropped the ‘Transmogrify’ bomb. It was in regard to sweet, well intended children growing up only to become self worshiping ogres. The word itself would more than suggest a change or transformation that was generally unexpected, unsavory and certainly mysterious if not magical. So the change Keller spoke of was both unwelcome and mysteriously magical. He went on to beg; how can one trust anything you hear from anyone who is so sure of everything, and I gave it a thumbs up at the time.
That was before 2016 or ’17 when a woman writer accused the man from Lake Wobegon (Keller) of inappropriate contact (touching). Within a few days of internal sleuthing, National Public Radio cut their ties with Garrison Keller. He still has a career but not in the mainstream. A year or so later another one of Minnesota’s  favorite sons was forced to resign from the U.S. Senate for sexual impropriety. Al Franken had a long career as a humorist, writer and actor before winning a seat in the senate. For so long; the good old boy’s club had enjoyed a hand grasping, back slapping code of membership. Then they had trouble adapting to the KY2 influx of women into the public service domain. Too many men needed something for women that paralleled the hands shake, back slap. So what do you do with women, you hug them; and if the hug is a real or perceived attempt at copping an unauthorized feel, you suffer the consequence. If a woman lets it go that is about how she deals with condescending gropers. If she calls the culprit out for his indiscretion; Go home Al, console Garrison Keeler. There is no transmogrification in that bad choice just grown-old gropers with teen age arrested development.
Rodney King died before his time some twenty years later at age 47. The change for King was not transmogrifying, nothing magical. His tormentors wanted him dead at the time but Rodney wasn’t ready to go yet but the beating certainly did nothing to promote his health. I don’t know how to qualify Clarence Thomas’ longevity. Speaking only for myself, it seems just another ripple, like graffiti on a passing railroad car, that if there really was a God he would have swapped King like the NFL does with players for Thomas who would have been beaten too a pulp by an angry husband. Rodney would probably have lost his driver’s license but would still be drinking. 

Monday, January 29, 2024

GET AWAY EARLY

  This is my last night in San Francisco. After nearly three weeks on the road I am running out of reasons to keep on with the nomad thing. My house back in the midwest has been suffering through subzero temperatures high winds and heavy snow and I feel some responsibility to be there; bad things happen when temperature looses its way, either way. I have a good crew checking for leaks but the urge to go on the road has been satisfied and I need to get real again. Day before yesterday the sky turned clear and sunny here so we drove up on top of Twin Peaks; The only Twin Peaks I ever heard of was a TV series from the last century but this one the view is breathtaking. San Francisco is spread out below like butter on bread and you can see the entire bay from the Golden Gate to San Jose, Oakland across the way, Alcatraz and all the ships coming and going. 
It rained later, I got all wet and came down with some kind of a bug, sinus, dry cough and suffered all day yesterday. The Covid test came out negative along with all the flu bugs and I woke up today sounding like a bull frog but feeling pretty good: better by the hour. When you are literally living in the moment it comes as a surprise when the hour comes for you to move on. That hour will be tomorrow morning and I will head south. My host in Cupertino is a long held, treasured friend and I hadn’t seen my cousin out in the valley for a dozen years and I thought at my age I should touch those bases; you never know. So I’ll pack before I go to bed and get away early.  

Maybe I should have posted the short beginning when I put it aside for the night. By now three days plus have gone by and I can’t tell if I am leading the way or being dragged along behind. The saying, ‘Just when things can’t get worse, they get worse.’ maybe it should be (PIA) pain in ass distractions more so than things getting worse. I left an expensive, necessary computer device & cable in San-Fran - went to a Best Buy store in Palmdale, CA, bought its generic equal. At motel discover the Best Buy thing didn’t work. Motel fiasco needs a full page to deconstruct so I’ll come back to that train wreck another day. On way out of town next morning I return the Best Buy dud and still need the thing to charge my computer. Slept in car at truck stop in Quartzite, AZ; saved a motel bill so I can pay for the cable & charger at Apple Store in Phoenix next day and up the road to Flagstaff, AZ, make a right turn. Had a bucket list event: stood on corner in Winslow, AZ, such a find sight to see but no girl in flatbed Ford checkin’ me out and I didn’t let the sound of my own wheels drive me crazy (Winslow is a railroad town, lots of trains). Drove late (dark) and I don’t like that but long road, no place to land. Then: Red Roof Inn (Gallup, NM) and the world slowed down. I slept good and am in the waiting room at a Dodge dealer in Albuquerque while my transportation (Fargo) gets new oil and filter. I have no plan, no destination, just a direction, east. My head is breathing clear, both nostrils drawing air but still hack a little dry cough once in a while. Covid tested negative before leaving SanFran. My computer is running on free wifi at the customer waiting area and fully charged with new Apple charger.
An extremely dissatisfied customer just stood in the front lobby and delivered a civil but loud (screaming) disclaimer. a fusillade of insults against the dealership and employees. She was really, really loud and it echoed with effects I would think only professional sound system gurus can produce. It went on and on, again and again for over a minute, maybe 90 sec. That’s a long time in public, in the place of business. Shortly after she left, employees began cruising, looking for the source but I don’t think they actually wanted to find her, only satisfy the company security policy. I always wanted to stand and scream insults in a place of business, without profanity, just really, really loud, well framed and purpose pointed against the people who lie to us and charge too much after not fixing their broken product. Seems my family just went through that and my son took care of the service manager in person. I wanted to tag along but he wouldn’t let me go inside with him. The dealership did the fix for no charge.
This oil change is taking a long time. Not enough for me to yell and raise a ruckus but time is money I’m told; and if you don’t have the one it’s good if you have the other. 

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT

  Having friends scattered across the map who are happy to see me and let me shelter under their roof is both a privilege and cost effective. But after a few days I begin to feel like I’ve overstayed that privilege. In every case so far they have assured me otherwise but the disclaimer doesn’t resolve the feeling. Today we are going up to Muir Woods, a patch of old growth redwoods just north of the Golden Gate. I’ve been there twice before but in a secular way, it’s a sacred place. After that it will be, find a winery or a beach, depends on the weather.
I feel compelled to start looking ahead to the next pitstop. I will go to my travel club’s directory. There are lots of travel club members spread out from SF to San Diego and odds are in my favor. Don’t know anyone in LA well enough to drop in; makes me feel like Clark Gable in the movie, It Happened One Night when he and Claudette Colbert were hitch hiking. Every passing car whizzed by him with his thumb out but when she took his place and raised her skirt up to her knee the next car slid to a stop and took them up the road. When I email another travel club member it’s like hanging my thumb out for a bed. I should be moving on soon if just to ease my conscience. 
By now my sense of purpose has pooled into a single puddle, best described by a line from ‘Everybody’s Talking’ a Susan Tedeschi song about sunshine and sailing ships, “Goin’ where the weather suits my clothes.” Not that I dread snow and cold so much but I do feel the need to be in motion and I haven’t been out of town since summer. Something about waking up not remembering where we put our head down that feels good (Oh yeah, California. . . Cupertino.)
We went to Chinatown the other night. Parking space anywhere in the Bay area is impossible. But we found a parking garage on a side street that looked like an improvised hole in the wall and steep ramp down into a basement. A tall guy guided us into a slot that would be blocked by the next car (have to move before we could leave). My host asked how much and the guy ask how long. We got two or three prices but my friend wanted a firm price. He gave us a lot of arm waving with a frustrating Chin-glish dialect, a toothy grin and, “You pay now.” We payed more than we were supposed to but when you don’t release the fish it should have thought again before it took the bait. Our car was in his basement and we paid. The restaurant was surreal, the food was awesome and expensive; the T-shirt I got next door was awesome too at $6 after all, it’s Chinatown.

Sunday, January 21, 2024

BUT THEY EAT

  I am in California for several reasons but the most significant is to escape winter’s blast across the midwest. Last week Kansas City’s football game was played in sub-zero cold, minus 20-something wind chill. I saw some of it on TV but where I was we walked the dog and I had to take my jacket off and carry it over my shoulder. The natives here don’t think this is comfortable but they do see the news. We drove down south last week for a day at their world famous Monterey Bay Aquarium. It’s interesting what gets your attention and what you remember. The animal techs were feeding the sea otters. Adult females, otters, not the techs, weigh about 70 lbs and eat 25% of their body weight every day which comes to about 18 lbs, give or take. Males weigh closer to 100 lbs but we’re not trying to pump up numbers, only illustrate a principle. At that rate one adult eats well over 3 tons of shrimp, clams and scallops per year. Just to keep it easy, figure conservatively that those shrimps etc. cost $10  pound or $6,700 per otter and there are 5 resident females ($33,500 yr.) just to feed otters. Besides the five residents there are injured and orphaned otters that are being rehabilitated for release and they eat too but nobody said how much they eat; but they eat and it adds to the $$$. The point is; running a world class aquarium is expensive. 
Then I go to the gift shop and look at all the pretty stuff. The souvignier item I always check price on is T-shirts. However they are priced it’s an indicator for everything else in the store. They can be soft, dense fabric with uniform seams or cheap & thin. The graphics can be a simple logo on the front or back but not both or multi color detail everyplace possible. Those T’s in the aquarium gift shop were average material with a one color logo on the front only; $34. O.M.G. So much for the gift shop. Then I thought about how much they spend on otter food and all the pipes and pumps to keep all that fresh ocean water coming into the building, through all the tanks and discharged back into the bay. Maybe the T-shirts should be considered token gifts in appreciation for a generous donation in the gift shop. Then I step out on the outside deck, looked out at nearby rock outcroppings in Monterey Bay and notice several sea otters, wild ones, floating around on their backs, feeding on shell fish off the bottom. I love seeing them in the wild and somehow the otters inside seem cheated in spite of their admirers and civilized surroundings. 
On our walk from the garage to the aquarium we passed ‘Bubba Gump’ sea food restaurant and stopped there for dinner on the way back. I had fried shrimp and a bowl of gumbo. It crossed my mind that I could mimic a wild, free, feeding otter; lie down on my back on the floor, spread shrimp on my chest and beat on them before eating but certainly also be asked to leave the restaurant. I really do like shrimp, not so much the clams and scallops but 25% of my body weight was never an expectation. It was a clever make believe but I will just admire otters from a distance and eat off my plate at the dinner table. 

Saturday, January 20, 2024

NOT ALL WHO WANDER

  After only six days into the new year I closed up the house and set off for the West Coast, just hours ahead of a Bomb Cyclone that was closing in from the mountains. Four days later after two motel stays, a ‘Travel Club’ B&B in Phoenix and boondocking (sleeping in the car) in the Bakerfield, CA Pilot truck stop I had outflanked the storm. But Missouri was still suffering under nearly a week of sub-zero temperatures. I spent the next week with my cousin in Turlock, CA. Yesterday, armed with a big bag of juicy, sweet oranges from the tree in the yard I took off in the early morning fog. That didn’t work very well and the two hour trip to Cupertino too nearly twice that. But I’m here, we went to China Town last night, over the mountains this morning toward Santa Cruz and (Giant, tall Redwoods) and are back to decompress. I could hang out here for several days; escaping the weather in Missouri was my primary idea when I flew the coop and I am in no hurry to get back. 
The weather here isn’t that great, rain, gray and more rain but it is the rainy season after all, not so cold. I won’t complain. California simply is what it is. People here think it is normal and go about their business. Come the weekend and they go to the mountains to ski and dodge avalanches which have been troublesome this past week. 
I just want to be inconspicuous, fly-on-the-wall and easy to get along with. As long as I be nice and they are happy I can stay out here. There are lots of Travel Club members (mates) in Southern California. With a little luck I can hook up along the way for a night or two and prolong my get-away. Lots of good stories but I’m going to take a nap right now. 

Monday, January 15, 2024

LITTLE TO LOSE

  The tyranny of the majority (or tyranny of the masses) is an inherent weakness to majority rule in which the majority of an electorate, even if its majority is razor thin, pursues exclusively its own objectives at the expense of those of the minority factions. This results in oppression of minority groups comparable to that of a tyrant or despot, argued John Stewart Mill in his 1859 book On Liberty
The idea that people who live by free and open elections in the practice of self rule end up behaving like, if not actually becoming tyrants (Nazi Germany, 1936). Having fringe groups on the margins of any culture is understandable but by definition they remain small and irrelevant. But when two competing ideologies are nearly equal in their support and their differences are profound, constructive negotiation and the art of compromise can give way to mob rule. That is what Mill was referring to with ‘Tyranny Of The Majority’. Whichever political party gains power they interpret the outcome as a mandate, license to expand their own power and advance their controversial agenda to its limits, by whatever means is available. Winner Take All is the principle and whatever you can get away with is the rule. Keep telling the same lie long enough and the truth gets lost. The lie is what we remember. 
The Tyranny part is manifest in angst between competing parties and one’s identity and sense of purpose is as much if not more about the color of your necktie. Winning and holding power is more important than what you do with it. If you break ranks with your constituents over anything at all you get punished and become the proverbial, Man Without A Country (Liz Cheney; Wyoming). 
According to the Oxford Dictionary, Tyranny is cruel, oppressive, government rule. If the government is authoritarian and rules by force it is what it is. But freely elected officials, even by the thinest margin of victory prevail with the pretense of manifest destiny and divine right. Reelection and personal careers are nearly always equal to serving a particular ideology. First and last, regardless of how qualified and competent leaders may or may not be; the American electorate is vulnerable to voting out of ignorance and prejudice at the polls. 
I have been addressing human nature for years and the most compelling trait I find there is that we respond to charged emotions with extreme actions long before we ever consider reason and logic. We believe and behave as well, based on fears and desires that can not stand up to rationale scrutiny. What should be top priority gets kicked like the proverbial can, down the road. In this case the danger is that we use self rule to elect ruthless, selfish demagogues to high office and believe their emotionally charged propaganda. For the record, history has not been kind to demagogues across the ages. 
When I think about the truly profound challenges we (U.S.A.) must address, if not sooner then certainly later; our most compelling concern is, who is to be in charge of a woman’s uterus, which books should be banned from public libraries and whether or not undocumented immigrants should have any rights at all. I would repeat myself: we respond to charged emotions with extreme actions long before we ever consider reason and logic. We prefer unreliable emotional feelings with decision making rather than logic and rationale, facts and due process. 
I am old. If I die today I have lived a long and rewarding life. Since I don’t believe in a ‘Here-after’, I have little to lose. In my lifetime the U.S. population has more, much more than doubled and my great grandchildren (I have 2) will have face a daunting future. Because of population growth and lack of access to technological progress, they have more to fear and less influence on their culture than I experienced (mathematical probability). Mother Nature does not give our species, Homo sapiens, any special privileges. My concerns for young people is real. But since I have no control over anything after I’m gone, any anxiety on my part would simply be, piss in the wind so I don’t really care. But for those of us who pay attention and do the math, Mother Nature has been telling us all along; “Pay me now or pay me later.” When that dreadful day does come the political party that is in power will be blamed by the other, as if it matters.  

Saturday, January 6, 2024

FARGO

  Saturday, January 6, 2024: I feel like a tethered dog who has freed itself from the leash. I might be exaggerating, yeah I think so but anxious (as with anticipation rather than anxiety) but it feels good.  I pulled out of Grandview, MO at 5:15 a.m. - 2:30 p.m. and the motel was, once upon a time, upscale but time is relentless on motels just like it is on old men. I’ve always had good luck with Econo Lodge and come back with high expectations. This one, in Elk City, Oklahoma has maybe 60 rooms around an indoor pool but it hasn't seen water since Noah's flood and the fake palm trees are still strewn around the deck where somebody left them in another century. But I’m not complaining; my room is clean and the heater has it just about right. When I opened the door it was chilly, I tapped the controls and the unit came to life like they were on drugs. I will get away early-early again. The first hour will be draining a medium cup of dark roast from the Flying J Travel Center and looking for a lite breakfast up ahead in Amarillo. 
First time for me out on the road in the new (preowned) car. All of my vehicles have had names and this one took some time to find a good one; came to me this morning in Joplin, MO. Dark gray 2019 Dodge Grand Caravan reminded me of an old time-wild west stage coach, Wells Fargo. Drop the ‘Wells’ and you are left with Fargo. With a little shape shifting you can imply; “Go-far” and that sounds like a mission statement. So FARGO it is. 
Fargo had a problem. Miles & miles today brought into focus a blind spot in the mirror coverage. No way to adjust driver’s side mirror or seat to see it all. So the first thing I did in town here was a side trip to O’Reilly’s Auto Parts for a round, fish-eye mirror to stick in the upper corner of the Dodge mirror. So far in town it works fine, we’ll see tomorrow.