Cleveland: It Wasn't a Debate

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist 

I had intended to spend this morning writing about last night's presidential "debate" in Cleveland, an event that, as it turned out, was neither "presidential" nor a "debate."    I did spend an hour-and-a-half of my life last night listening to the rolling train wreck of an encounter between Joe Biden and Donald Trump, but in the end I decided that it had been a cringe-worthy affair and something best forgotten as quickly as possible.

Well, maybe I should share a couple of insights regarding the fiasco - just for the record.

The moderator, Chris Wallace of Fox News, threw down the ground rules at the outset, but it was quickly apparent that Wallace did not have the necessary stuff within himself to keep the candidates - and particularly Donald Trump - in line.   Trump hurled personal insults at Biden and his family - saying Joe Biden wasn't smart and that his son, Hunter, was a drug addict who had profited off of his father's position in the government - and Trump continually shouted over Biden's responses to questions - and he even drowned out a lot of what the moderator tried to interject into the discussion.

A couple of telling points during the evening occurred when Donald Trump refused to say whether he would refrain from declaring victory until the election results were officially announced - and when he began making his well-rehearsed complaints regarding what he sees as massive irregularities with ballots. Biden moved to assure people that the election would produce a winner and that winner would be sworn in as president.    Trump continued with his posture that he would deem anything less that a win for himself as suspect.

Joe Biden renounced violence at protests, while Donald Trump passed on an opportunity to condemn white supremacists.  When asked directly about the armed instigators known as the "Proud Boys," and would he tell them to stand back, Trump responded with "I would tell them to stand back and stand by," a provocative statement that supposedly was incorporated into the group's public relations strategy soon after the words left Trump's mouth.

I listened to the debate over National Public Radio in a darkened room with a pleasant ambience, and still I found it to be a vile, gut-wrenching experience.  I doubt that I will waste my time listening to the next two.  If there were any good points left to be made, Donald Trump wouldn't allow them to be heard anyway.

Debates are for the benefit of undecided voters, and I am not one of those - in fact, I have already voted.  Trump's strategy last night was apparently to rattle Biden and make him get angry and overreact.  And Biden did flare a couple of times - once when he referred to Trump as a "clown," and a couple of times when he told him to shut up.  But Trump's plan to rattle Biden into some sort of emotional collapse failed overall because Joe managed to basically stay on-point and not get flustered or side-tracked.

In my opinion Joe Biden won last night's debate, not because of anything exceptional that he did -  but from the fact that Trump abandoned the processs early on and began wallowing in craziness.  Chris Wallace, who seemed at times to be trying valiantly to rein-in Trump, eventually ceded control of the monkey house to Trump and, with that abdication of authority, became the big loser of the evening.  Donald Trump, for his part, screamed through the bars and flung his feces in all directions.

What happened last night in Cleveland wasn't a debate, and shame on us for pretending that it was.  If Americans feel a need for more of what we were subjected to last night, let them watch "professional" wrestling.    At least it's more honest.

Donald Trump: King of the Welfare Queens

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Tonight in Cleveland Joe Biden and Donald Trump will meet on a patriotically festooned stage for the first of three scheduled presidential debates.  The host will be Chris Wallace of Fox News.  Trump had expected to march into Cleveland still basking in the afterglow of having just nominated his third conservative justice to the US Supreme Court, but, as often happens with Trump, the lead story changed abruptly when - on Sunday night - the New York Times suddenly revealed that it had acquired fifteen years of Trump's federal income tax returns.  

For the past four years Trump has fought valiantly to keep his tax returns secret, often putting forth the excuse that they could not be released because he was the subject of an on-going IRS audit.  The IRS, for. its part, has said that its audit would not prevent Trump from making his returns public - as all presidential candidates have been doing for decades.

But still Trump persisted in keeping his tax returns secret - causing some skeptics to believe that he might have something to hide.

Well, according to the report from the New York Times on Sunday evening, the skeptics were right.  Donald Trump was hiding plenty!

A quick overview of the recently released returns shows that Trump paid no income tax at all in ten of the fifteen years covered by the returns, and that for the years 2016 and 2017 - returns that were filed the first two years Trump was in the White House - he paid on $750 each year.  Trump, for his part, exploded that the Times report was untrue and "fake news."   He also said that he paid plenty in state taxes and used New York as his example - although he has not released any state tax returns either.

The returns, as reported by the New York Times, also indicated that Trump used creative measures for lowering his reportable income - things like claiming $70,000 for a personal hair stylist to help with his television appearance, and a "consultancy" fee for his daughter, Ivanka.

The returns that were released by the New York Times on Sunday also showed that Trump is carrying a debt load of $421 million, a nugget of information that led House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and others to suggest that having that level of debt burden made Trump susceptible to pressure from people who controlled that debt, and in particular foreign business executives and politicians who might want special favors or concessions from government for propping Trump up.   Trump's debt, in other words, made him a security risk.

Hillary Clinton accused Trump during the 2016 presidential debates of not paying taxes, and instead of denying her claim, Trump embraced it and said that not paying taxes made him "smart."

Today I came across this gem on Twitter:

"I don't think the conservative take on @realDonaldTrump paying no taxes should be: BECAUSE HE'S SMART! I've paid nearly 50% of my income in taxes, year after year, and any system that allows billionaires to pay ZERO is unspeakable corrupt. How about changing it, Democrats?"

 

The author of that tweet wasn't Bernie Sanders, or AOC, or any member of "the squad," or some liberal Hollywood celebrity.   The person who wrote that tweet was conservative columnist Ann Coulter!  Like so many of the rest of us, Ann apparently pays her taxes and she has a burgeoning resentment of those ultra-rich Americans who feel that paying taxes is just for the "little people."

My own tax rate to the feds is nearer 30% than it is 50%, but I still pay plenty - and I pay every damned year - and I'm glad to do it.  I depend on government for a wide range of services, and I know that things like roads, and schools, and libraries, and hospitals, and ambulances cost money.  Everyone who is a member of our society and benefits from that association needs to participate in paying the bills.  Our taxes are the dues that we pay for the benefits and protections of being Americans - and we all should be doing our part.

Conservative politicians and country music singers used to single out extremely low income individuals who accepted government assistance and referred to them as "Welfare Queens."  Most of those people lived in dire circumstances and paid little or no income tax, yet sometimes qualified for payments or foodstuffs from the government.  That isn't to say that they didn't pay taxes because, like the rest of us, they paid sales tax on everything they purchased.  But certain people wanted us to focus on these drastically poor people and to see them as the reasons that government could not afford to do other things.

But in reality it was the ultra-rich who were sabotaging the funding pact between the government and its citizens.  The rich were avoiding their taxes and blaming government's failures on the poor.

Well, for once Ann Coulter is right - and for once I agree with her.  The rich benefit greatly from the peace, stability, infrastructure, and opportunities offered by the government of the United States, and they need to participate in its upkeep - by paying their taxes.

Anyone who can afford $70,000 for a hairstylist can pony up taxes to provide our troops with basic body armor, our hospitals with ventilators, our cities with clean water, our rural areas with broadband access, and our school children with books.   

Anything less and you are gaming the system - like one of those dreaded Welfare Queens!

Monday's Poetry: "A Noiseless Patient Spider"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator 

For the past several months, I have been sharing my bathroom with a spider, not a big, hairy, uncouth tarantula, but a small, delicate creature who measures no more than an inch in circumference toe-to-toe.

Although I don't remember the exact date upon which we initially encountered each other, it had to have been at least early March, or perhaps even before that when I noticed her (and I feel she is a "she") for the first time.    I was heading into my morning shower and stopped to open the small bathroom window - for steam control - when I saw her sitting high up on a corner of the window screen, inside of the window-and-screen unit.

Itsy-Bitsy, or "Itsy" as I was soon calling her, stayed in roughly the same spot for the remainder or the spring and summer, moving no more that an inch or two at any given time.  I had no idea what she was surviving on, but if I raised a finger toward her, she would move slightly to show me that she was still alive and doing her spider thing.

Then, about two weeks ago, after I had begun leaving the window open for hours at a time to let in the cooling autumn air, I looked for her one morning and noticed she was gone.  A day or so later she appeared on the wall outside of my shower, but again was very docile.  The next morning I found her in the shower, and being in more of a hurry than I perhaps should have been, I turned on the water.  She scampered out of the way, and managed to stay safe and dry while I lathered up and rinsed off.

Yesterday Itsy was standing guard at the hook where I hang my towel.

At some point my little friend will probably leave, or at least crawl into the darkness behind my bathroom bookcase (It's a great place to read!) for a winter retreat.  And then who knows what will happen next spring.   Perhaps she will have had a hundred little "Itsy's" and they will all be sharing my bathroom!

I will keep you posted!

Today's poetry selection is "A Noiseless Patient Spider" by Walt Whitman.  It's a very short piece in which Whitman uses a spider sitting on a ledge as a metaphor for his soul.  (Whitman's spider cast a web - Itsy has not.)  Instead of reminding me of my very flawed soul, my little Itsy is more of a metaphor for the closed-in spring and summer that I have endured - thanks to the lingering pandemic as well as having my wing clipped in the form of a broken arm.  Like Itsy, I have spent many long weeks sitting in my own corner.  But she survived, and I will as well!

A Noiseless Patient Spider

by Walt Whitman

A noiseless patient spider, 

I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated, 

Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, 

It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself, 

Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. 

And you O my soul where you stand, 

Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, 

Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, 

Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold, 

Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

I Have Voted!

by Pa Rock
Determined Voter 

For the past several years I have voted absentee in every election.  I do that for a couple of reasons.  First of all, I do not enjoy going to the polls and standing in line, all the while dodging the attentions of people who get their news from Fox and Facebook and believe they are honor-bound to educate me on the issues or some aspect of the lives of the candidates.  I know who I am voting for before I arrive at the polls - and why.  

My other reason for voting absentee is that it allows me to cast my ballot early, thus minimizing the chance that I will expire just days before an important election without having voted.  I would like for my obituary to end with these words:  " . . . and he cast an absentee ballot in the upcoming election several weeks ago."

The normal process for voting absentee in Missouri - at least the one I use - is to go to the county clerk's office, explain in a short, declaratory sentence that you will be away from home on Election Day, and then cast a ballot during that same visit.  Many states no longer require a reason, but Missouri still does.  Now, however, with COVID-19 running rampant across the nation, people place themselves at extra risk by going to the polls and standing in line to vote.  Missouri has issued a list of reasons that people my choose to vote absentee during the pandemic without a special excuse.  Two that I qualify under are being over the age of sixty-five, and being diabetic.

I have now voted twice under this new pandemic plan, and it is super simple.  People who want to vote absentee just complete a form on the internet at the Missouri Secretary of State's homepage and then mail or take that to the county clerk's office.  She will then mail applicants ballots when they become available, and ballots may be returned in the handy postage-paid envelopes or brought back to the courthouse in person.

My ballot for the general election arrived this past Wednesday, and I filled it out the following morning and returned it to the county clerk's office.  Nothing could have been simpler.   The official Election Day is November 3rd, but my ballot was marked and cast on September 24th.

And I feel good about that.

My county is red - so much so that there were no Democratic candidates for any of the local offices - and when the votes are counted Donald Trump will have somewhere around two-thirds of my county's total - but he won't have mine!

And I really feel good about that!

Handmaid Headed to Seat on Supreme Court

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist 

Donald Trump, a man whose respect for women is a bottomless shaft, is reportedly set to nominate a woman, Federal Appeals Court Judge Amy Coney Barrett, to the US Supreme Court later today.  Judge Coney Barrett, a 48-year-old mother of seven, meets both GOP criteria for serving on the nation's highest court:  she is pro-gun rights and anti-abortion rights.

But the conservative Judge Amy Coney Barrett is also dragging along some religious baggage that, at the very least, should raise a few eyebrows.   She is a member of a charismatic community called "People of Praise," a religiously affiliated group with views that place women in a subservient role to men.  The group, which is roughly ninety percent Catholic, promotes men as the heads of households.   Adults within the group mentor other adults of the same sex with male mentors referred to as "heads," and female mentors called, until recently, "handmaids."

Recent publications have credited "People of Praise" for being the inspiration that author Margaret Atwood drew from for her novel, "The Handmaid's Tale," though Atwood has said that she is unsure at this time whether that is a correct attribution or not.    (Her research notes are currently unavailable to her due to the coronavirus.)   Ms. Atwood has said that she was definitely aware of "People of Praise" as she was writing her alarmingly dystopian novel.

The group, "People of Praise," is headquartered in South Bend, Indiana, where Ms. Coney Barrett taught law at Notre Dame University before being appointed to the bench of the 7th Circuit Court by Trump in 2017.  One former member of the group complained in a press article that she had been expelled when she came out as gay, and another member said that the group operated with a "Jonestown mentality and dominance" and that members were "brainwashed."   Others have been quick to label the organization as a "cult."   The group tilts conservative on social issues and is opposed to same-sex marriage.

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a giant among jurists, a woman who fought tirelessly for the rights of other women and for a seat the table for the disadvantaged.  Now, before the country can even show Justice Ginsburg the respect of a decent burial, Donald Trump will stain his presidency and our country yet again by stepping center stage and introducing the dutiful Handmaid that he has selected to fill the  high court vacancy created by the death of Justice Ginsburg.

Amy Coney Barrett will never be able to replace Ruth Bader Ginsburg - in any sense of the word, just as Clarence Thomas was never able to replace Thurgood Marshall.   Ginsburg and Marshall were world-class legal minds and constitutional scholars.  Coney Barret and Thomas are lawyers.

And Donald Trump is a political hack and grifter with one foot out the door.  The United States of America is being badly wronged with this rushed nomination to fill the seat of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and the American people will very likely tell the world how they feel on November 3rd.

Rest well, Justice Ginsburg - and bless you for all that you were able to accomplish on our behalf.

Sowing Despair as an Election Strategy

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Donald Trump has been making ominous statements about the upcoming presidential election.  This week he declined to say whether there would be a peaceful transfer of power if he loses to Joe Biden in November, and said instead that he would have to wait and see what happens.  He also whines loudly that "millions" of unsolicited ballots are being sent to voters and that mail-in ballots will lead to "massive" voter fraud.  Both of those statements are unsupported by facts.

(The need for many to vote by mail in this election has been heightened by the coronavirus pandemic that has literally ravaged our land - and Donald Trump has only himself to blame for that awful situation.)

Yesterday Trump appears to have been handed a "fact" to support his spurious voter fraud arguments.  Apparently nine marked ballots from military members were found discarded in Pennsylvania - a state that Trump must win if he is to remain in the White House.   The FBI is reportedly investigating, and someone from law enforcement conveniently let it slip to the press that seven of those ballots had been marked for Trump.  Now Trump has seized on this minor incident, one that Pennsylvania authorities say was accidental and unintentional, as proof of his claims of massive voter fraud.  Some dubious observers note that the incident could also have been engineered by GOP operatives in Pennsylvania who are trying build sympathy for Trump and create a case for his acrimonious allegations.

In response to Trump's continuing refusal to guarantee a peaceful transfer of power in the event that he loses, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell yesterday went before the press and said there would be a peaceful transfer of power - just as there has been following every change in presidential administrations since 1792.  White House officials also made similar statements with the caveat:  "in the event of a free and fair election."

Trump for his part, is now saying that he would cede power following a Supreme Court decision that awarded the victory to his opponent.    (The states and the Electoral College decide presidential elections - not the Supreme Court.   If for some reason the matter did come to rest with the Supreme Court, Trump undoubtedly would feel a certain advantage because he would have appointed three of the nine justices hearing the case, and the Court would have a lopsided (6-3) conservative tilt - so any claims he could contrive for getting the election outcome to the Supreme Court would appear to be to his ultimate advantage.)

All of that is a fairly bleak picture for a country that is used to going to the polls every four years and electing a president - usually without major incidents, and certainly without the threat of democracy itself being overthrown in the process.

It's damned discouraging, in fact.

Yesterday I heard a news-talker state that some poll or survey had indicated that people who felt Trump was preparing to steal the election through false claims of voter fraud were less likely to vote.  Some voters would be so despondent over Trump's theatrics that they would essentially just give up before the election and not even bother to go vote.  The news-talker went on to say that the Trump campaign was using that voter despair as an election strategy - adding to the sense that Trump would steal the election anyway, so voting would be useless.

I hope that is wrong.   I hope that every American of voting age will become well versed in the issues facing our country and cast their ballots - by mail or in person - in alignment with their beliefs of what is best for our country as a whole.  No one should be intimidated into not voting, and no one should be made to feel that voting is a useless act.

Voting is important.  If it wasn't important the noise level wouldn't be nearly so high.

Absentee voting is already underway in many states.  Get out and vote by whatever available method is right for you, and then trust that your vote will be counted correctly and that the winners will be able to assume their offices without threats of government disruption or violence.   

The United States of America has thrived on the peaceful transfer of power for more than two centuries.   The irrational and erratic self-interests of one individual must not be allowed to undo our nation's liberty and democracy.  It is our country, and "we the people" must show up and vote if we are to keep it.

Do not let despair defeat us!

Your Governor Is Probably Smarter than Mine!

by Pa Rock
Masked Missourian

Unless you are stuck in a science-denying backwater like Florida, Georgia, or South Dakota - and possibly Oklahoma, the chances are that your state has a governor who is much smarter than mine.  As Missouri pushes its way toward the top of the COVID-19 infection list, our esteemed Republican governor, Mike Parson, continues to minimize the seriousness of the situation, is seldom seen wearing a facemask in public, and absolutely refuses to put forth any policies which would require residents of his state to wear a mask.

In fact, over the course of the summer Parson has been steadfastly declaring, "You don't need government to tell you to wear a dang mask!"

Parson's wife, Teresa, drinks her kool-aid from the same pitcher as her politician husband and is also seldom seen in public wearing a facemask.  The Parson's buy their kool-aid in bulk from the Trump White House.

Yesterday Mike and Teresa Parson both acknowledged that they have been diagnosed with COVID-19.  He is currently holed-up in the Governor's Mansion in Jefferson City and working from home while in quarantine.  Teresa returned to the family farm in Bolivar, Missouri, to serve out her time in isolation.

Mike Parson turned sixty-five one week ago today, and Teresa's age does not seem to be a matter of public record, though she is also reported to be in her sixties.  They have two grown children - one of whom is a public school teacher - and five grandchildren.  Governor Parson underwent heart surgery to clear a blockage in 2016.

Governor Parson, who replaced disgraced former Republican governor Eric Greitens when Greitens resigned due to a sex and bondage scandal one year into his first term, is now running for his first election as governor.  This past week Parson was the featured speaker at a large campaign event in Springfield, Missouri, where he and most of the other speakers and guests chose not to wear masks.  On Tuesday Parson and his wife toured a new golf resort in Branson along with another special guest - Tiger Woods.  This coming Friday Parson was scheduled to participate in his first campaign debate against his Democratic challenger, State Auditor Nicole Galloway.

Ms. Galloway has wished the governor and his wife a full and speedy recovery.

Pa Rock also wishes Governor and Mrs. Parson well and hopes their bout with this dreaded disease proves to be uneventful.  It would also be nice if Missouri's political leaders learned something from this scary situation.  Ignoring science can have devastating consequences, or, as one person on Twitter noted yesterday, "If you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes."

(Note:  Missouri is currently one of the coronavirus "hotspots" in the nation.  The state has had over 120,000 of its citizens test positive for the virus, and there have been nearly 2,100 COVID deaths - and news reports indicate that the numbers in Missouri are rising faster than the national average.)

The Rising Son

by Pa Rock
Proud Father

My youngest, Tim Macy, was born on this date in 1979.   It was a Sunday, the first day of autumn, and our family was on the way to church when it suddenly became apparent that the day would not be going as planned.  We dropped Tim's older brother and sister off with friends who were at church, and then proceeded to the local hospital to await the birth of of the next member of the family.

Tim was a happy child, always an extrovert, who made friends easily.  For  a few years during his adolescence he and I were a family of two, a situation that undoubtedly had a substantive impact on both of our lives.  Tim was living out west in a culturally challenging environment while he was in high school, a situation that ultimately led him to leave school early - without a degree.  It wasn't long, however, before he completed a GED and enrolled in college.  A few years later the one-time high school dropout graduated from the University of Kansas with the degree of  Masters in Fine Arts.

Tim did a lot of writing while he was in college.  He posted short stories to the internet, and was published in several print sources.  He also was involved in playwriting classes while he was working on his masters degree.   At one point he entered a playwriting contest for plays that were no longer than ten-minutes in length, and he won the regional competition for his effort, "Attack of the Asians," a win that entitled him to present his entry at the national competition which was held at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC.  His dad was there, puffed up with pride as he watched his son's writing come to life on a stage at that world renown venue.

Several of Tim's plays were  presented at the University of Kansas while he was in graduate school, including one that dealt with the still unsolved 1988 disappearance of Kansas high school student Randy Wayne Leach.  The entire Leach extended family and many of their friends showed up for the opening night performance, an event which drew much press coverage and comment throughout the Kansas City media market.  Tim's dad, who had driven in from Kentucky, was in the audience opening night and the next night, too!

Two of Tim's internet stories were made into short films, and one of those was later transformed into a full-length motion picture.  Ramaa Mosley, a director of commercials from Los Angeles, had come across Tim's story, "The Brass Teapot," and telephoned him about the possibility of her turning it into a short film, a project that reached fruition in 2007.  (Julia Roberts' husband, Danny Moder, served as the cinematographer on that project.)   The short film version of "The Brass Teapot" met with enough critical success that Mosley decided to turn it into a feature-length film.   Tim was involved in the writing and production of that effort which was filmed in Fishkill, New York, in 2011.   The movie starred Juno Temple, Michael Angarano, Alexis Biedel, and Bobby Moynihan, and premiered at the Toronto Film Festival in 2012 - and again Tim's dad was underfoot to enjoy that success as well!

Another of Tim's short stories was developed into a short film by students at Ohio State University in 2009.  Tim co-wrote the script for that project, "The Dying Western," a film which went on to win several awards including the Festival Award at the Appalachian Film Festival,  the Audience Award at the Route 66 Film Festival, and the Jury Prize at the Las Vergas  Film Festival.   Tim's dad, both of his siblings - Nick and Molly, and Cousin Reed were all in attendance at the Las Vegas Film Festival!

In 2015 Tim and Ramaa Mosley teamed up again to make another full-length movie.   They co-authored a script about a young female veteran of the Gulf Wars who returns to the Ozarks for her father's funeral and to look for her estranged younger brother.  While she is struggling to reconnect with her past, the young woman finds a boy living in the woods on his own and becomes involved in his life.  The movie "Lost Child" was filmed in and around West Plains, Missouri - giving Tim's dad, a resident of that small Ozark town, a front row seat for observing the magic of making a movie!  "Lost Child" starred Leven Rambin, Jim Parrack, Taylor John Smith, and several local individuals from the West Plains area.  It premiered at the Heartland Film Festival in Indianapolis in 2016, and later that same year received top honors at the Kansas City Film Festival.

Tim's wife Erin is a licensed speech correctionist, a plant enthusiast, and a great mom.  She and Tim are the parents of two wonderful children:  Olive, who is eight and currently studies acting in her spare time, and four-year-old Sully (Sullivan) who has just begun pre-school and appears to be on the road to becoming a stand-up comic.  The Macy's of Roeland Park, Kansas, are an extremely close and loving family - and Pa Rock misses not getting to see them nearly as often as he did before the pandemic hit.

Happy birthday, Tim.  Thanks for always making me so proud!

The Cure for Trump Rot

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The longer Donald Trump remains in office, the looser his grip on reality becomes.

This past week our emotionally explosive leader gave us a couple of clear insights into what his second term would look like, and those images were not inspiring. Trump, who has spent his entire life breaking the law and cheating the system, has decided to cloak himself in a "law-and-order" mantel as he seeks re-election, and to highlight his "tough-on-crime-and-criminals stance," Trump's target-of-choice is the BLM movement and the on-going turmoil in American cities.   It's an appeal to racism by a man who is very comfortable leading a racist movement.

Trump laid the groundwork for his law-and-order putsch by hammering on his belief that America's schools having been focusing on the negatives in history, things like slavery, when they should have been celebrating what he sees as the glories of our history and stoking patriotic fervor.  He crafted an executive order calling for patriotic education in the schools which would promote the American experience in a positive light.  (Presumably the control of federal funding to schools would be the stick to whip those history-teaching mules into line.)

Some fear Trump's authoritarian tendencies would lead to patriotic classes and clubs and eventually uniformed groups of school children who spread out into the communities and report "unpatriotic" acts that they observe to local leaders - much like the Hitler Youth of the 1930's and 1940's.  (If you haven't seen the 2019 film "Jojo Rabbit," this would be the right time to do it!)

Yesterday Trump and his legal mouthpiece, US Attorney General William Barr, also made threats against three major American cities - which they referred to as "anarchist" cities.  The Trump administration is trying to claim that these cities are deliberately flouting the rule of law, and it suggested that federal aid (again with the stick!) could be withheld to punish them for their failure to behave in a way that is pleasing to Donald John Trump.  The cities labeled as "anarchist" include Portland, Oregon, Seattle, Washington, and New York City.  All three also just happen to be Democratic strongholds.

Trump has been particularly enraged at New York City ever since the city painted "Black Lives Matter" on the street in front of his "Trump Tower" on Fifth Avenue.    New York's Governor Cuomo has said that Trump's "anarchist" designation and the withholding of federal funds would be both illegal and unconstitutional, and he promised to immediately take the matter into court if the administration followed through on its threat.   Portland and Seattle are also not the types of communities to tolerate a bully.

Yes, Donald Trump is dim-witted and lazy, but he is also vile, vindictive, and dangerous.   Should he somehow manage to get re-elected, he will waste vast amounts of time golfing and rage-tweeting, like he did in his first term, but he will also further destroy the fabric of our nation by imposing the heavy hand of "Big Brother" across the broad spectrum of society.   Trump has infected America with a rot, and the longer he remains in office, the stronger that rot grows, the further it spreads - and the more dangerous it becomes for our country.

And the only way to cure Trump Rot is through voting.

Monday's Poetry: "Maples"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Tomorrow will be the first day of autumn in 2020, undoubtedly the most bizarre and harrowing year of my lifetime - and I lived through the sixties and the presidency of Richard Nixon.  The passing of seasons is one way we mark the time as we age.  Today is the close of my seventy-third summer, and I am getting to the point where I feel all of them!

But still I persist - and so must we all.

Yesterday was the birthday of the late American poet laureate, Donald Hall, and to mark that milestone Garrison Keillor's "Writer's Almanac" chose to highlight Hall's poem "Maples," and I liked it so well that I decided to reprint the poem here.  It is a piece that speaks to the changing seasons of our lives - and maples, with their fiery foliage and steady dripping of sweet syrup - are a true embodiment of autumn. 

The leaves will turn color, and drop, and the bare branches with rattle and break with the winds of winter - but spring is coming - and it will get better.

It must get better.

Maples

by Donald Hall

When I visited as a boy, too young for chores,

a pair of maples flared before the farmhouse.

My grandfather made me a swing, dangling

rope from stout branches. I hurtled

between them high as I could, pumping

out half the day while my mind daydreamed

the joy of no school, no camp, no blocks

of other children fighting childhood's wars.

With the old people I listened to radio news

of Japanese in Nanking, Madrid on fire,

Hitler's brownshirts heiling. The hurricane

of 1938 ripped down the older maple.

When I was twelve and could work the fields,
my grandfather and I, with Riley the horse,
took four days to clear the acres of hay
from the fields on both sides of the house.
With a scythe I trimmed the uncut grass
around boulders and trees, by stone walls,
and raked every blade to one of Riley's piles.
My grandfather pitched hay onto the wagon
where I climbed to load it, fitting it tight.
We left the fields behind as neat as lawns.
When I moved back to the house at forty,
a neighbor's machine took alfalfa down
in an afternoon. Next morning, engines
with huge claws grappled round green bales
onto trucks, leaving loose hay scattered
and grass standing at the field's margin.

A solitary maple still rises. Seventy years
after my grandfather hung the swing,
maple branches snap from the old tree.
I tear out dead limbs for next year's sake,
fearing the wind and ice storms of winter,
fearing broken trees, cities, and hipbones.

Taggart

by Pa Rock
TV Junkie

As noted previously in this space, I am a big fan of British television, an itch that I scratch by subscribing to the BBC's Britbox program streaming service.  Most of the television programs that I consume come through Britbox.
 
British television does three types of programs especially well:  period pieces and costume dramas like Downton Abbey and Upstairs Downstairs, comedies (often referred to as "Britcoms") such as Are You Being Served?, Absolutely Fabulous, and Keeping Up Appearances, and police dramas like Prime Suspect, Midsomer Murders, and Shetland to name but a few.
 
British police dramas can seem to be a bit formulaic with many (dozens upon dozens over the past few decades) being built around a DI (Detective Inspector) or DCI (Detective Chief Inspector) and his (or her) faithful - or sometimes obstinate - DS (Detective Sergeant).  As a rule, this duo generally work for the police CID (Criminal Investigative Department), the elite crimefighting squad that the regular grunts in the police force (people like traffic cops and desk jockeys) aspire to join.
 
Taggart, one the of longest-running police dramas in television history (1983-2010), was set in Glasgow, Scotland, and was built around a fictional unit called the Maryhill CID of the Strathclyde Police.  The head of that unit was DCI Jim Taggart, ably portrayed by Scottish actor Mark McManus and who, during the show's early years, was assisted by an assortment of detective sergeants.  The show encompassed 110 episodes of varying lengths throughout its 27-year run, with many of the earlier ones lasting anywhere from two to two-and-a-half hours and those of the final few seasons being less than an hour long.
 
The show was named for - and built around - the main character, DCI Jim Taggart.  He was a dour old Scotsman with a heavy accent whose tag line was "There's been a murder."  And with that he and his team would set off to solve the crime and make the world right.  Taggart's wife, Jean, was wheelchair-bound and had written a best-selling book about living successfully as a handicapped individual.  Jean was a forceful individual who served to constantly remind her husband that there was life beyond his duties with the police, whether he wanted to hear it or not.  As the show developed she became a balance to the sometimes exuberant nature of the police operations, often dragging her husband, and even his crew, back into the humanity of the real world.
 
Mark McManus, the actor who played DCI Taggart, died unexpectedly in 1994, and the British television company, ITV, which produced the show, made a decision to continue the program with the same name.  There was a succession of characters involved with Taggart after that point, but continuity was primarily achieved through DS Jackie Reid (Blythe Duff) who had been involved with the program from 1990.  Detective Sergeant Reid went on to be a major character throughout the remainder of the series.

With a few exceptions, most of the episodes of Taggart were filmed in Glasgow.  Years ago I had an opportunity to spend a weekend in Scotland, a brief time that would allow for a visit to only one of the two main cities - Glasgow or Edinburgh.  I chose Edinburgh based on it renown culture and history - and because Glasgow had a reputation for being a much harsher environment where drugs and crime were common.  It was a good decision - Edinburg was beautiful with much more to see and experience than could possibly be fit into the two days that I was there.  Much later, through Taggart, I had the opportunity to explore Glasgow, where crime and drugs indeed ran rampant and every building and public space was awash in trash and graffiti.  

Glasgow was a perfect setting for a gritty police drama - and Jim Taggart and his crew of flawed detectives formed the perfect crime-fighting unit to try to control its mean streets.

If you like your dramas rough and real, Taggart will scratch that itch.

Easy Rider, an Enduring Groovy Experience

by Pa Rock
Film Fan 

I first saw the film, "Easy Rider," at a movie theatre in Springfield, Missouri, back in 1969 just after its release.  Little did I imagine that the next time I would sit down to watch it would be more than fifty years later - and the cult classic would be playing on television - with commercials!  If ever there was a movie not suitable for commercials, "Easy Rider" should have been it, yet here was the movie, five decades on, playing on the IMDB Channel with regular commercials from "Nordictrack" (a fitness company) and "Jos. A. Bank" (a men's clothier).  And neither Peter, nor Dennis, nor even Jack presented themselves in that movie (or any other that I can remember) as fitness freaks or fashion icons.

 But aside from that cultural incongruity, the film has held up very well.

"Easy Rider" was written by Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, and Terry Southern.  Dennis Hopper directed the movie, and it was shot on a budget of $400,000, an amount that today might not buy the two "chopper" motorcycles that were the mainstay of the film.

The plot begins with Fonda and Hopper making a drug deal in rural Southern California - or perhaps Mexico - and then reselling the white powder product to a very young Phil Spector who operates from the back seat of a limousine.   The young (and suddenly very rich) drug dealers take their cash proceeds, hide it in their motorcycles, and hit the hit the road on a trip unlike anything Bing Crosby and Bob Hope ever envisioned.  Their ultimate goal was to reach New Orleans in time for Mardi Gras - a trip that would take them through the racially and socially intolerant American South.

Along the road to New Orleans they spend time in a commune as well as one night in a small town jail where they meet a young drunken lawyer - Jack Nicholson - who dons his old high school football helmet and joins them on their journey.  Nicholson is the central focus of two of the best scenes in the movie - one where Peter Fonda shows him how to smoke pot, and the other where he explains to Fonda that people resent them because they are experiencing the freedom that most others have feared to pursue.

One other memorable scene in the movie involves Fonda and Hopper visiting a whorehouse in the French Quarter of New Orleans.  Hopper is up for anything but Fonda isn't getting into the experience as much as his friend is.  Fonda finally suggests that the four of them (he and Hopper and two prostitutes) head out onto the streets and enjoy the Mardi Gras parades.  They wind up in the famed St. Louis Cemetery of New Orleans where the guys show the girls how to take LSD - and then the four have a long and emotional wander through the tombstones and ornate vaults where they shed many of their inhibitions and quite a bit of their clothing.

And then there is the inevitable tragic ending.  If you have ever seen the movie, you remember the ending.

Some of the language may seem stilted by today's standards, and the clothing over-the-top (even for the sixties), but at the time "Easy Rider" was filmed it was seen as an authentic representation of the American counterculture - and fifty years on it's still an enduring groovy experience!

Death Comes for RBG

by Pa Rock
Grieving American

Moments before the call came I had just finished watching "Easy Rider," a cult classic movie from the sixties which focused on the individual's struggle to achieve personal freedom in a society that promotes conforming to the norms.  I turned off the television and was headed to my computer to check the evening news headlines when the phone began ringing.   The caller was a close and dear friend whom6 I met in college in the 1960's, and she sobbed out the news that Ruth Bader Ginsburg had died.

Justice Ginsburg , who passed away at th age of eighty-seven after suffering several health scares over the past year, was only the second woman ever to serve on our nation's highest court - and was the senior liberal justice on the court.  RBG was nominated to the Supreme Court by President Bill Clinton in 1993.

The effort to replace Justice Ginsburg is expected to be an especially contentious affair.  Senate Majoirty Leader Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, a Republican, refused to hold hearings  on President Obama's nominee, Merrick Garland, to fill the Supreme Court seat of Justice Antonin Scalia during the final ten months of Obama's term.  McConnell said then that he believed there should be no nominations made during the final year of a presidential term in order to give the voting public an opportunity to weigh in on the process and selection.  This year, however, McConnell went on record stating that if a vacancy occurred prior to the election, he would move to fill it.

The next national election is November 3rd - just forty-six days away.   In fact, four states began early in-person voting today - Virginia, Minnesota, South Dakota, and Wyoming - so the election has actually started.  But the nomination of a Supreme Court justice, especially one to replace one of the most liberal members of the court, is sure to draw fire from all sides and to become the defining issue of the presidential election.

Anything can happen, and with the country being run by an unstable personality, confusion and bitterness are sure to abound.  The coming weeks will be hard and complicated.

May Justice Ginsburg rest in peace - even though there is unlikely to be much peace for the rest of us.

So it begins.

Pence Does Litchfield Park

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I saw a snippet on the internet this morning stating that Mike Pence would be visiting Litchfield Park, Arizona, today where he will speak at some sort of "Veterans for Trump" event at the Wigwam Resort.  That caught my attention because I am a former resident of Litchfield Park - a community that in 2018 boasted a population of 6,310 parched souls - and almost as many cacti and palm trees.

Litchfield Park is a long stretch of sand between Goodyear, Arizona to the south and Luke Air Force Base to the immediate north.  And while there are some very nice homes hidden back off of the main highway, the community also has more than its fair share of strip malls, clubs, liquor stores, and mobile homes.  I shared one of this mobile homes, a double-wide, with an old cat named Scroungy Bastard, for the better part of two years.

I miss Scroungy Bastard, but not Litchfield Park.  

Litchfield Park lies in what is commonly referred to as the West Valley, but it and all of the other towns out that way run together and are, in fact, all part of the Phoenix metroplex.

I read the other day that the Trumpers consider Florida and Arizona to both be critical to their re-election hopes.   Arizona elected a Democratic senator two years ago, and the state appears to be on the verge of electing another Democratic senator in November - and polls show Trump trailing Biden in the state as well.  For the Republicans to carry the state, they will have to do exceptionally well in their stronghold of Maricopa County (Phoenix) - and especially in the military-centric West Valley.

(And based on conversations that I have had with friends who still live there, I can attest to the fact that there is a strong undercurrent of Biden support flowing through the Valley.)

So if Arizona is as critical as the GOP seems to believe it is, Pence's visit is probably a good idea.

But Mikey, I would urge a certain amount of caution.   The area has far more scorpions than it does voters, gay Arizonans are not shy and many would probably jump at the chance to embarrass you, and, if you see an old yellow tomcat climbing over the wall of the Wigwam, something he has been known to do, be extra cautious because Scroungy Bastard hates rats with a passion!

You've been advised!

Suggestions for Reforming Presidential Debates

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Back during the campaign of 2016 Donald Trump told an audience in New Hampshire that Hillary Clinton's performance had improved so much during their second debate that he suspected she might be on drugs.   It was ill-mannered and it was nonsense, but that's the type of stuff that a Trump crowd wanted to hear.   It also drew attention away from Trump's own poor debate performance and got people to focus on watching Hillary for any little missteps that might be drug-related.

Now four years and one presidential campaign later, Donald Trump, a man who often appears to be higher than Ben Franklin's kite, is back pointing his little fingers at the other candidate - this time Joe Biden - and again suggesting that his opponent seems to be using some nefarious drug to improve his clarity and debate performance.   On multiple occasions over the past few weeks Trump has talked about what he considers to have been Biden's poor debate performances during the large Democratic debates of early primary season, but then toward the end when he had a one-on-one with Berine Sanders Trump thought Biden suddenly and strangely showed a great improvement.

When pressed by friendly interviewers on Fox, Trump said "some people" believe the improvement could have been drug-related, and when asked if Biden should undergo a drug test before the upcoming debates, Trump replied in the affirmative - and then surprisingly volunteered that he would be willing to also take a drug test before the debates.

In the spirit of giving credit where credit is due, Donald Trump may have just come up with a good idea, which would certainly be a rarity for him.  If the people who hand us our burgers and fries at drive-up windows have to take random drug screenings, why shouldn't the people who run our government, the people who routinely make life and death decisions that impact millions of Americans?  And what would be wrong with knowing that the candidates who expound grand ideas in national debates were speaking from their hearts and unclouded minds rather that from a drug-fueled hallucinatory state?

There is also a suggestion floating around that the debate organizers should employ real-time fact-checkers to highlight lies almost as quickly as they are uttered - and that too is a grand idea - and probably one that Donald Trump would not support.

If we are going to have debates, and at this late date it certainly looks as though we will, wouldn't it be reassuring to know that they are based on the sober efforts of honest talkers!

Drug-testing and fact-checking would make for more honest debate presentations, and they would go a long way toward better informing Americans of their choices for President.  And after the presidential debates are reformed, then we could turn our attention to fixing Congress!

Adventures in Voting: Making America Sane Again

by Pa Rock
Early Bird 

Yesterday I filled out my application for an absentee ballot (available on my state's Secretary of State's homepage) and hand-carried it to the local county clerk's office.  I was able to qualify for an absentee ballot based on two pandemic criteria set forth by my state - Missouri.  First, I am "at risk" of catching the coronavirus if I vote in public because I am aged sixty-five or over, and second, I am diabetic which also qualifies me to avoid the masses at the polls on Election Day.  Because I meet at least one of the several criteria posted by by state, I do not have to give any other reason for not voting in person, nor do I have to have my signature on the application or ballot envelope notarized.

My county is very Republican in a Republican state, but even so the county officials are smart enough to regard the pandemic as real.  Common people, like myself, can no longer get inside of the county clerk's office, but instead must deal through a slot in a window at the front door.   Yesterday when I finally got the attention of one of the two ladies that I could see in the back of the office, she quickly donned her face mask and came to the window.

I slid my completed and signed application through the tray beneath the slot in the window along with my retired military-civilian photo ID.  She took the material and looked me over.  The photo on the ID was taken nearly three years ago in Hawaii and it showed me as a happy guy, clean shaven and with short hair. Today, thanks to the pandemic (and a broken arm), my gray locks reach my shoulders - and I now have a mustache and full, untrimmed gray beard - all of which was mostly hidden by my wide-brimmed mowing hat and a black face mask.  (I looked like Gabby Hayes preparing to rob the 3:10 to Yuma!)

I guess that even in my disguise I must have passed her quick inspection, because she then took my materials and went back to her desk to "check the books" and make sure I was registered.  A couple of minutes later the lady returned and told me that everything was in order.  She said that ballots would be mailed out in one week - on September 22nd.

I had heard that some states were requiring early voter and absentee voters to return their ballots by mail, and Missouri does send theirs out with a convenient postage-paid return envelope.   Not trusting Postmaster General DeJoy to get the job done for me, I asked if I could return my ballot to the slot in the window in-person.  The lady said that since I was officially requesting an "absentee ballot" it was fine to do it that way.

So sometime late next week - but as soon as humanly possibly after receiving my ballot in the mail - I will mark it and take it back to the county clerk's office.  That will save them the postage, and it will save me the worry of having to trust my ballot to a postal service that is under the control of one of the candidates. 

When my ballot makes its way safely through that slot in the county clerk's office window, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris will have at least one secured vote in Howell County, Missouri, and Pa Rock can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he has done his bit to make America sane again!

Protecting Donald Trump Is What Safety Is All About

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Last Sunday Donald Trump held one of his notorious hate rallies in a large warehouse in Henderson, Nevada.  He had the rally in defiance of state law which bans gatherings of more than fifty people, and against an appeal from the state's governor who is battling to hold down Nevada's rate of coronavirus infections.  The event in Henderson was Trump's first indoor rally since an infamous evening rally in Tulsa, Oklahoma, on June 20th, an event that Tulsa County health authorities said caused a surge in confirmed coronavirus cases in their area.   (Former presidential candidate Herman Cain died on July 30th from complications of COVID-19, less than six weeks after he had attended the Trump Tulsa rally.)

Nevada's Democratic governor, Steve Sisolak, called Trump's rally "an insult to every Nevadan who has followed the directives, made sacrifices, and put their neighbors before themselves."  He added,  "It's also a direct threat to all of the recent progress we've made, and could potentially set us back."  

And then Governor Sisolak tweeted:

"Tonight, President Donald Trump is taking reckless and selfish actions that are putting countless lives in danger here in Nevada."

Trump, who regards himself as a gifted orator, shot back that Governor Sisolak was a "political hack."

Trump's attack on the governor came during a post-rally interview with the state's largest newspaper, The Las Vegas Review-Journal.  Also in that interview Trump minimized safety concerns from the rally by relating all of those concerns to his own personal safety.    Trump noted that he was "on a stage and it's very far away . . . and so I'm not at all concerned."   

The Trump campaign said that all people entering the event had their temperatures checked, and that hand sanitizer and masks were provided to those who wanted them.  News photos revealed very few people actually wearing face masks at the rally, and it appeared as though there was no social distancing being practiced.

But not to worry because Donald Trump stayed well away from the masses and he was protected - and protecting Donald Trump is what safety is all about!

Herman Cain can sort the ones who didn't fare as well as Trump.

Monday's Poetry: "Wildfire"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

It's Monday and I am still focused on the terrible fires that are consuming much of the woodlands and small towns of the three states (California, Oregon, and Washington) that form the western coast of the United States.  The death toll is steadily rising, homes and entire communities are disappearing, and a thick blanket of hazardous smoke has people trapped inside their homes.  And then, as if our far western neighbors hadn't suffered enough, Donald Trump is headed to California today where he lecture local political leaders on their supposed mismanagement of broad stretches of state and federal land while smiling for a few campaign photo ops.

Today's poetry selection, "Wildfire" by John Beaton, discusses the fighting of wildfires from a more or less technical perspective.  I did not find any information regarding the poet on the internet, but he seems to be well schooled in fighting fires and writing poetry.

May the seasonal rains come quickly to our friends and neighbors in the West, and may they be substantial.

Wildfire

by John Beaton

It starts with lightning, tinder, and a gust.

Smoke-jumper teams, at this stage, may contain it -

clad in Nomex, 'chuting down to dust

they rip along the fireline like a bayonet,

swinging pulaskis, cleaving to clearings and creeks,

drip-torching back-fires, containing each hot spot

with counter-tides of flame.  They know physiques

honed to sprint with gear may still be caught

by racing fronts and panic, so they pack

a thin aluminum drape, a fire-shelter.

A flare-up - now they cannot reach the black

by racing through the flame-wall, helter-skelter,

so they deploy before the terra torch

and bake like foiled potatoes in its scorch.

The fire expands.  Its roaring conflagration

finds ladder fuels and candles standing trees.

The incident commander starts to station

resources round the burn's peripheries -

machinery and hotspot crews assemble

in camps and helibases.  Like mirages,

infernos rise to ridge lines, flare, and tremble.

As faller teams and swampers check barrages

of lowland flame, a bucket-swinging Bell

lathers long control-lines with retardant.

The Super Huey heli-crews rappel;

Sikorsky sky-cranes suck and buzz like ardent

mosquitoes, but combustion's alchemies

still plate the skies with gold.  A rising breeze . . . 

The crowning flames become a firestorm

as fires' heads combine.  Convection columns

shoot rims and embers upwards where they form

flak for tanker-crews.  Smoke overwhelms

visibility.  They drop a Mars

and lift great lumps of lake, on every mission

seven thousand gallons salving scars

from summer's branding-iron.  Sudden fission

caused by sap expanding inside trunks

sends frissons of crackling sparks across the blaze

as fire-cracker trees explode.  The thunks

of falling tops spook ground crews.  Flames find ways 

to lope the overstorey under cover

of smoke while dozers doze and choppers hover.

Although we fight it, such spontaneous heat

kindles inner duff.  Like Icarus

We're drawn to the flame as if it could complete

combustion of some smoldering in us,

a splendor in the trees.  With rolls and dips,

like waxwings', flying wax wings to the sun,

we soar . . . And then, as if a flash eclipse

confronts us with the dark side of the moon, 

the aftermath appears:  black devastation,

burnt poles which yesterday were foliaged 

Cracked pods already seed reforestation

and years will heal what fire so quickly aged

but now, devoid of even twigs and slash,

this moonscape marks where sunlight fell as ash.

An Uneasy Symbiosis: Trump and the Anti-Fascists

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist 

Last week Brian Murphy, a career government worker who had previously been in charge of the intelligence division at the Department of Homeland Security, filed a report with that agency's Inspector General stating that top officials in the agency were routinely forcing career officials to change reports to align with Donald Trump's worldview of certain situations.  Murphy alleged that the long-term "acting director" of DHS, Chad Wolf, and his top assistant, Ken Cuccinelli, both Trump appointees, directed officials in the agency to change intelligence assessments to insure that they line up with misleading and often incorrect assessments made by Donald Trump.

Specifically Whistleblower Murphy said that DHS officials were told to cease providing information regarding US election interference by Russia, and to begin laying the blame for any foreign interference in US elections with China and Iran.  Murphy also alleged that DHS leaders told their underlings to deemphasize the threat of white supremacy to the nation's safety and to put more effort into blaming racial strife and domestic unrest on "Antifa" and "anarchist" groups.

"Antifa," of course, is not an established group of individuals, but rather a loose assemblage of groups and individuals who are opposed to the growing acceptance of fascist ideologies, such as those based in racism or economic privilege, that are cropping up across the United States.  Donald Trump has demonized the term "Antifa" and tries to lay the blame for any civil discord on "anarchists" whom he paints with a wide brush as being members of Antifa.   Trump, and others, conveniently overlook the historical fact that the Allies in World War II - including the Armed Forces of the United States of America - opposed the fascist world leaders like Hitler, Mussolini, and General Tojo.   The anti-fascists (Antifa) won the Second World War.

But Donald Trump, whose father sat out World War II so that he could concentrate on renting houses and apartments in New York City to "whites only," is not a student of history.  Donald is a bully who often gets his way by name-calling and inciting others.

A case in point:

(Clackamas County, Oregon, is a large patch of land southwest of Portland and north of Salem, the state's capital.  US Highway 5, that main artery from San Diego to Seattle, passes through a corner of Clackamas County.)

Thursday a sheriff's deputy in Clackamas County was placed on leave after it was revealed that he had been filmed inciting a group of county residents about Antifa.  The deputy, who knew he was being filmed, was accusing people aligned with Antifa of setting some of the fires that are burning through Oregon.  He declared::  

"Antifa motherfuckers are out here causing hell.  There's a lot of lives at stake and there's a lot of people's property at stake because these guys got some vendetta."  

Rest well, Donald Trump.  Your rage has been heard and taken to heart by the armed members of the police state that you embolden and cherish.  Antifa justifies your law-and-order roar, and your unhinged rage, in turn, justifies the existence of citizen forces to combat your fascist actions.

(Note:  The Oregonian (a major newspaper in the American Northwest) reported this week that theories circulating about a coordinated arson campaign by anti-fascists has been debunked by law enforcement agencies across the state and the FBI as being a "myth.")

Certain Kinds of Election Night Riots Will Be Put Down Quickly

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

In an interview that was taped with Jeanine Pirro of Fox News earlier in the week and set to air later today, Donald Trump addressed the topic of possible rioting by American citizens on election night.  Speaking of the possibility of turmoil in the streets if he is re-elected, Trump vowed that protesters would be dealt with quickly:

"We'll put them down very quickly if they do that.  We have the right to do that.  We have the power to do that, if we want."

Trump continued, in what has become his standard garbled manner:

"Look, it's called insurrection.  We just send in, and we do it very easy.  I mean, it's very easy.  I'd rather not do that because there's no reason for it, but if we had to, we'd do that and put it down within minutes."

Trump did not speculate as to what he would do if he lost and America's streets were suddenly taken over by red-eyed hillbillies firing guns.

In other election strategy, Trump has also indicated that he plans on having a significant law enforcement presence at polling stations, an action he promotes as election security and others see as being voter intimidation.  Last month Trump told Sean Hannity, also of Fox News, that he would order law enforcement officers to  polling places in an effort to keep the elections honest.   He explained to Hannity:

"We're going to do everything.  We're going to have sheriffs, and we're going to have law enforcement, and we're going to have, hopefully, U.S. attorneys, and we're going to have everybody and attorneys general."

Trump's tilt toward voter intimidation and vote suppression was so obvious that White House Chief of Staff Mark Meadows felt obliged to issue a statement to the effect that Trump was not advocating a form of voter suppression!

Right, Mark.  And he's not planning to limit free speech in the streets either!

Wildfires Rage Up and Down the West Coast

by Pa Rock
Concerned Grandfather

I pride myself on keeping up with the things that are going on in the world.  Most days I routinely visit a half-dozen or so news sites on the internet, and also ask Alexa multiple times a day to provide me with a news flash.  Generally, I know what's happening - in my town and around the world.

But I was caught flat-footed a couple of days ago when my daughter phoned from Oregon - where she and her family live.  "Dad," she said, "Do you know what's going on out here?"  And no, Dad didn't have a clue.  

Molly, who was phoning from her car, went on to tell about the many wildfires that had broken out in the state over the preceding few days.  She said that she was driving through smoke and ash as we were talking.   (I had a passing knowledge of the wildfires that had been plaguing California, but the fires of Oregon were news to me.)  Molly lives in Salem, the capital of Oregon, and she was on the road heading in the direction of Portland to pick up one of her children from a school that he attends which is located between Salem and Portland.

Molly said that entire communities were being evacuated, and others were being told to get their cars packed and to be ready to flee.  It was a very disturbing phone call.

Later in the day I received an email update talking about the red skies over Oregon.   Photos accompanying the article showed daylight scenes in which the sky was bright red.  The pictures were apocalyptic and as disturbing as Molly's call had been.

I spoke with my thirteen-year-old grandson yesterday afternoon.  Sebastian, a junior businessman, has his briefcase packed and is ready to move out if the alarm is sounded.  He said they are in a Phase 1 area which is no immediate danger, but other relatives in town are in a Phase 2 area and are packed and ready to run.  He also said that his neighborhood is so smokey that they have to be careful about opening the door because that lets the smoke into the house.

Oregon's Governor Kate Brown has asked the federal government for an emergency declaration and assistance in dealing with the catastrophe.  So far more than half-a-million Oregonians have been evacuated from their homes - or roughly ten percent of the state's population.

As of a couple fo hours ago there have fifteen fire-related deaths in the western states:  ten in California, one in Washington, and four in Oregon - of which three were in Marion County where most of Salem is located.  All of those numbers are likely to go much higher.

News sources are crediting lightening strikes and carelessness with igniting the fires, but many of the stories also credit climate change for establishing the conditions that eventually made the fires far more likely to break out and be so devastating.  

But the time for finger-pointing and assigning blame will come later.  Now is the time for planning, and vigilance, and staying well beyond harm's reach.

Be smart, West Coast, and stay safe!

Harry Vernon at Prep

by Pa Rock
Reader

Francis D. Smith was a World War II combat veteran and a Magna Cum Laude graduate of Harvard.  He taught high school for seventeen years and then spent the remainder of his academic career as a literature professor at a small college in Amherst, Massachusetts, and as a dean of the same college.  Smith was also a writer.  During the 1980's he wrote six mystery novels under the pseudonym S.F.X. Dean which concerned the exploits of a fictional college professor/amateur sleuth whose academic background basically paralleled that of the author.  

Those mystery novels were not Smith's first foray into writing.  In 1959 he had published his first (and only other) book, "Harry Vernon at Prep," which was described by his family in his obituary as "a comic adventure narrated by an engaging outlaw who scams his way into a teaching job at a Boston-area private school."  That same obituary also mentioned that the book "gained minor cult status where it was reported that rock critic Lester Bangs (who wrote regularly for Rolling Stone) considered the book to be a 'sacred text.'"   The author wrote "Harry Vernon" as "Franc" Smith.

"Harry Vernon at Prep" is a first person, stream-of-consciousness account of a year in the life of the title character.  Harry stops at a diner in New Hampshire for a meal where he meets a young male teacher.  Harry decides to abandon the borrowed police car that he has been driving and accepts a ride to Boston with his new friend.  Harry, though a con-artist by nature, is also well educated and has been a student at Harvard at one point in his life.  As they travel and talk, the teacher discovers just how bright Harry is - and offers him an odd proposition.

The teacher is trying to break his contract at a boys' prep school in Boston where he teaches literature, but to do that he has to come up with a suitable replacement.  Even though Harry has no formal education in the field of education, he does have the ability to snow his way past the school's administrators and other faculty members - and he soon finds himself ensconced in his own dorm room with a teaching position at the school.

During the school year Harry learns to teach, becomes involved in the lives of his students - and one step-parent, puts on the school play, and spends many hours tutoring and coaching a local bartender who has dreams of becoming a history teacher.  It is Harry's effort to get the bartender to look and sound like a teacher that does so much to illuminate what he sees as the phoniness of the profession.

"Harry Vernon at Prep" provides a view of life in a private boarding school in the 1950's, and it also offers a deep-dive into the field of education that still has relevance today.  The short novel is funny, insightful, and strangely compelling.  It does not, however, live up to the hype of being a "sacred text!"

(Note:  My used copy was originally owned by Janet E. Sell, M.R. 1, Saltsburg, PA.  Janet, if you are still kicking, get in touch and I will send it back to you!)

Barr to the Rescue

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

In a shocking misuse of government office, U.S. Attorney General William Barr, Donald Trump's de facto personal attorney, took action in federal court last night to claim U.S. jurisdiction in a civil case where Donald Trump is the defendant.

The case is rooted in a 1990's alleged criminal incident in which Trump is accused of raping a woman in a dressing room of a New York department store.  The alleged victim, E. Jean Carroll, has been pursuing Trump in court for the past several years in a civil action seeking damages.  Her attorneys have been blocked at every turn as they sought to depose Trump and to get a sample of his DNA.  Last year when it looked like they were getting close to achieving those goals, Trump lashed out with an accusation that the victim was just trying to draw attention to her case and sell books.  The victim then sued Trump for defamation of character.

It is apparently that defamation suit in which Barr wants the United States government to intervene.  Barr and his team - who are all on our payroll - will argue in federal court that Trump was acting in his official capacity as President of the United States when he defamed Ms. Carroll, and therefore the United States government should foot the bill for his defense.

And, as this poor typist understands it, if a federal judge agrees that this is a matter in which the United States government bears responsibility, it will suddenly be moot because our government cannot be sued for defamation.  It should also push the whole sordid matter out beyond the November election.

And the toad will hop on down the road.

Sweet.

(After Attorney General Barr solves this 'presidential' legal hiccup, perhaps he can revisit the Stormy Daniels matter and get the government to reimburse Trump for the hush money that he paid to her!)

The Queen's Drive-In

by Pa Rock
Film Fan 

Maybe she is in the throes of some late-life crisis, or perhaps she is just looking for a way to provide the lesser princes and princesses with some pocket change, but whatever her reasoning, Elizabeth II, the Queen of the British Empire, has announced that she is opening her country estate, Sandringham, for a weekend of drive-in movies at the end of September.

That's right, the Queen's 20,000-acre estate in the Sandringham Parish of Norfolk, about 100 miles outside of London, will host a weekend of movies, drive-in style, for the general public.  Eight films will be shown in all, with a double-feature beginning on Friday night, September 25th, at 5:00 pm, and triple-features on Saturday and Sunday starting at 1:00 p.m.

The line-up is:

Friday:   "1917" (5:00 p.m.)  and  "Rocketman" (9:00 p.m.)

Saturday:  "Toy Story" (1:00 p.m.),  "The Greatest Showman" (5:00 pm.),  and  "Bohemian Rhapsody"           (9:00 p.m.)

Sunday:  "Moana"  (1:00 p.m.),   "Grease" (5:00 p.m.),  and  "A Star is Born" (the Lady Gaga version) (9:00 p.m.)

The vehicles of attendees will be given transmitters apparently on which to both view and listen to the films.  (This old movie projectionist knows that a traditional large outdoor viewing screen would not work during daylight hours.). The vehicles will also be socially-distanced which would make the concept of a single screen more of a challenge.

The price for this royal outing is 32.50 British pounds (per car?) (or about $40 US), and for an extra 7.50 pounds ($10 US)  a table, deck chairs, and popcorn will be set up next to the vehicle.  Tickets will be sold in advance on-line.  Also, food and drink vendors will be circulating among the cars during the shows - and alcohol will be served.

There was no word on the "loo" situation.  The Queen's residence at Sandringham has seventy-eight bathrooms, but it is unlikely that movie-goers will be welcome inside of the main house.  Hopefully public restrooms will be available.  There was a situation earlier this summer when the public restrooms at the Queen's 50,000-acre estate in Balmoral, Scotland had to close because of the pandemic.  Visitors to the estate began relieving themselves  on the grounds wherever they pleased.  Eventually the staff at Balmoral sent out a series of tweets informing people that if they needed to pee to do so at least thirty meters from lochs (lakes) and streams, and if they needed to "defecate," to do so "as far away from possible from buildings, paths, water courses and farm animals."  Defecators were also instructed to bury their feces in shallow holes and replace the turf.  

If the same rules are in effect at Sandringham, watching the movie-goers relieving themselves might be almost as entertaining as watching the movies!

The Queen herself will not be present for the drive-in weekend at Sandringham.  She will be relaxing at Balmoral - and probably being very careful where she steps!

Monday's Poetry: Deportee (A Rerun Plus)

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

 A plane went down in California's Los Gatos Canyon near Fresno on the night of January 28th, 1948 killing all thirty-two individuals aboard.  Four of those on board were US citizens (three crew members and an immigration official), and the news accounts listed them by name.  The remaining twenty-eight were Mexican nationals (twenty-seven men and one woman) who had been performing farm labor in the United States - some legally, and some illegally - and were being flown back to Mexico at the expense of the US government.  The news article referred to the twenty-eight Mexicans as simply "deportees," without their names.

American folksinger, songwriter, and poet, Woody Guthrie, read that article and was angry at the way the deportees were treated as anonymous individuals by the press.  He put pen to paper and wrote of the slight in a poem that he titled "Deportee."   A few years later a school teacher turned the poem into a folksong, and it has subsequently been recorded countless times by a string a famous artists.  The song is known as  "Deportees."

The twenty-eight Mexican nationals had been buried in a mass grave in a churchyard in Fresno, California.   Seven years ago a journalist in California, with the assistance of records at the church where the Mexicans were buried, was finally able to identify all of the Mexican victims of the Los Gatos Canyon Crash, and on Labor Day weekend a memorial was unveiled at the cemetery which listed every victim of the crash by name.

Now this Labor Day, with COVID-19 and out-of-control wildfires raging across Central California, and both disasters having significant impacts on the migrant workers of the state - and their families - I thought it would be a good time to rerun the piece that I wrote about Woody Guthrie's poem, "Deportee" back in July of 2013.  

This piece recounts the poem itself as well as the full list of crew and passengers who were aboard that ill-fated flight.

As we end our summer this Labor Day weekend, please remember the plight of America's farm workers who are living in cramped quarters, trying to stay free of the COVID plague, and enduring unseasonable heat and smoke and back-breaking labor to put food on our tables.  They are overworked, under-paid and under-appreciated, and they all have hopes and dreams and names.

MONDAY, JULY 15, 2013

Woody Guthrie, a seminal American folk singer, songwriter, and poet, was at the height of his talents in 1948 when he read about a plane crash that killed four United States citizens and twenty-eight Mexican nationals who were being deported back to Mexico.  Some of the Mexicans were "braceros" who were in the United States legally working on labor contracts, and some were in the country illegally.   (When braceros came into the country, the companies that recruited them were responsible for getting them back to Mexico when the crops were in, but when those companies did not provide that necessary service, the U.S. government stepped in and provided transportation as they "deported" the laborers.)

 

Many of these flights took place at night, prompting some of the passengers to refer to plane that transported them as "El Tecolote," or "The Owl."  The plane on that night in January of 1948 apparently caught fire in the air after developing an oil leak.

 

Guthrie, not one to abide racism, became angry when he read the news accounts of the plane crash because the American press listed the four U.S. citizens by name and anonymously lumped the Mexican citizens under the term "deportees."  He wrote the following poem, "Deportee" to express his outrage at that affront, considering it a racial slight.  He also used the piece to take a pot shot at the U.S. government for agricultural programs which paid farmers to destroy crops - when there were people starving across much of the world.  Later a school teacher, Martin Hoffman, put the poem to music, and since that time it has been recorded by numerous folksingers.

 

The Los Gatos Canyon Crash occurred near Fresno County, California, on the night of January 28th, 1948.  The four U.S. citizens aboard the plane as it left Oakland, California, on its final flight were the pilot, first officer, stewardess (who was the pilot's wife), and an immigration official.  There was apparently no attempt to identify the twenty-eight Mexicans (twenty-seven men and one woman), and they were buried in a mass grave at a Catholic Church in Fresno with just a simple bronze marker that stated they had been killed in a plane crash.

 

Last week while perusing the Los Angeles Times (a first rate newspaper that will go down the tubes quickly if the Koch brothers manage to get their slimy hands on it), I came across an article about the Los Gatos crash stating that all of the victims had finally been identified - thanks to some sharp detective work by a journalist with an assist from a church official where the deportees were buried.  The journalist has managed to collect enough money to fund a monument that will contain all thirty-two names, and it will be unveiled at the cemetery over Labor Day weekend.

 

This posting is respectfully dedicated to twenty-eight deceased individuals who finally have been identified.  May they and their families now be able to rest in peace.  The deportees were: 

 

Miguel Negrete Alvarez, Tomas Avina de Gracis, Francisco Llamas Duran, Santiago Garcia Elizondo, Rosalio Padilla Estrada, Tomas Padilla Marquez, Bernabe Lopez Garcia, Salvador Sandoval Hernandez, Severo Medina Lara, Elias Trujillo Macias, Jose Rodriguez Macias, Luis Lopez Medina, Manuel Calderon Merino, Luis Cuevas Miranda, Martin Razo Navarro, Ignacio Perez Navarro, Roman Ochoa Ochoa, Ramon Paredes Gonzalez, Guadalupe Ramirez Lara, Apolonio Ramirez Placencia, Alberto Carlos Raygoze, Guadalupe Hernandez Rodriguez, Maria Santana Rodriguez, Juan Valenzuela Ruiz,Wenceslao Flores Ruiz, Jose Valdivia Sanchez, Jesus Meza Santos and Baldomera Marcas Torres.

 

Here is what Woody Guthrie had to say about them sixty-five years ago as he created names in order to give the sense that they were real people and more than just nameless "deportees."

 

 

 

Deportee  (a.k.a. Plane Crash at Los Gatos)

by Woody Guthrie

 

The crops are all in and the peaches are rott'ning,

The oranges piled in their creosote dumps;

They're flying 'em back to the Mexican border

To pay all their money to wade back again 

 

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,

Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria;

You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane,

All they will call you will be "deportees"

 

My father's own father, he waded that river,

They took all the money he made in his life;

My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees,

And they rode the truck till they took down and died. 

 

Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,

Our work contract's out and we have to move on;

Six hundred miles to that Mexican border,

They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves. 

 

We died in your hills, we died in your deserts,

We died in your valleys and died on your plains.

We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes,

Both sides of the river, we died just the same. 

 

The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,

A fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills,

Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves? 

The radio says, "They are just deportees" 

 

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards? 

Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit? 

To fall like dry leaves to rot on my topsoil

And be called by no name except "deportees"?