The Beatles Come to Pigman Ranch

by Pa Rock
Missouri Citizen Journalist

Today marks an important anniversary in my little corner of the woods.  Fifty years ago on this very date the Beatles (yes, those Beatles) flew into rural Oregon County, Missouri, in a small single-engine plane and landed on a rugged grass runway.   Their pilot was Reed Pigman.

The Beatles had just finished a concert stop in Dallas and had a free weekend before their final show of their first American tour – in New York City.  Mr. Pigman owned a commercial flying outfit called American Flyers which had contracted to transport the Fab Four on their first American tour.   As that tour was winding down, the group found itself with a free weekend and no plans.  Pigman convinced them to spend the time at his 13,000 acre cattle ranch near Alton, Missouri.  It was, at the time, the largest working ranch in the state – and it was nestled in the beautiful Ozarks.

The legend goes that they brought no musical instruments, and instead concentrated on swimming, fishing, riding horses, and relaxing.  Some excited locals did find out about their presence and managed to make it onto the ranch for an up-close look at the world famous performers.

It was twenty years later before I first heard that the Beatles had actually spent a weekend in the Ozarks.  A friend was dating an elementary school teacher who told him about the visit and said that she had been one of the lucky ones to have made it onto the ranch.  I told my friend that sounded like some country version of an urban legend.  He responded, “But Rock, she showed me the pictures she took!”

Brian Epstein, the Beatles manager, accompanied the boys from Liverpool on their Ozarks outing.  Epstein turned thirty during the visit – fifty years ago today, actually.  He died of a drug overdose less than three years later.

Local celebrations were held this past weekend, with a highlight being a concert by a Beatles tribute band at West Plains’ Civic Center last Friday night.  I wasn’t there, but I heard that 1,200 happy souls sang along to every song!

Another Missouri Cop Outrage

by Pa Rock
Missouri Citizen Journalist

There has been another outrageous “cop on teen” brutality incident in Missouri.  This time the teen did not die, but the incident left the young man in a coma and in extremely serious condition.  

An officer with the Independence (Missouri) Police Department pulled a car over this past weekend because of an outstanding warrant involving the vehicle.  He reportedly asked or told the teen male driver, Bryce Masters, to roll down the window.   When the young man did not immediately comply, the officer pulled the boy from the car, and then tased and stomped on him.  The youth, near death, had to be rushed to a local hospital where he remains in the ICU.

A friend said later that Masters did not immediately roll down the window because the electric window in his car was not working properly.

If the Independence policeman expected to flex his muscle on this kid, with no consequences, he made a serious miscalculation.  Bryce Masters is the son of a member of the Kansas City Missouri Police Department – a cop – a very upset and angry cop.  The Masters family did not give the Independence Police Department time to start organizing an official cover-up – like the one engineered by the police in Ferguson, Missouri.  The Masters family immediately requested that the U.S. Department of Justice intervene and find out just what the hell happened to their son.  The F.B.I. is already investigating.

This time there has been no media hints that the victimized boy was actually a “thug” or someone with a history of disrespecting authority.   This time there has been no suggestion the lad attacked the police officer or was guilty of some other crime.   (The outstanding warrant that caused the cop to stop the car in the first place listed a woman as the perpetrator.)   This time no one was wearing a suspicious looking hoody.

This time was different.

This time the victim was white.

And this time there is going to be hell to pay.

The Great and Powerful Kansas Cleanse

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

This past weekend I was in the Kansas City area where I managed to drive through quite a bit of Kansas City, Kansas, as well as several small Kansas towns on the periphery of Kansas City.     I’m a sucker for bumper stickers and political yard signs, regarding both as barometers of the popularity of candidates.  Surprisingly, I did not see one bumper sticker or yard sign promoting the re-election of Kansas’ Republican governor, Sam Brownback.  I encountered several promoting his Democratic opponent, Paul Davis, but none favoring Brownback.

Is that a bad omen for Brownback?  I certainly hope so.

Kansas has three statewide elections of note this November.  Each of the three offices – U.S. Senator, Governor, and Secretary of State - have Republican incumbents, and each of the incumbents appear to be in danger of losing.

Oh joy!

Pat Roberts, the senator who is up for re-election, spent the better part of a year battling his way through a tough primary election.  It should have been a cakewalk for Roberts, but things got difficult when it became public knowledge that the senator did not have a home in Kansas, and, according to him, rented a lazy-boy recliner from a friend when he made his visits “home.”  His wife, a Virginia realtor, promoted her real estate activities as a committed Virginia resident.

Roberts was running against Democrat Chad Taylor in the general election as well as an independent candidate named Greg Orman.   Taylor and Orman had been splitting the vote and it looked as though the increasingly unpopular Roberts could slither back into power if his opponents split the anti-Roberts vote.  But then a couple of weeks ago Taylor withdrew from the race – or at least he tried to.   The Kansas secretary of state, a reptilian Republican by the name of Kris Kobach, arbitrarily decided that Taylor had not properly withdrawn – and decreed that his name must remain on the ballot.  Taylor was in court yesterday trying to get the matter resolved, but it may all be academic now anyway.  New polls show Orman beating Roberts fairly handily – even in a three-way.

That may not be great news for Democrats because Orman is unpredictable and could wind up caucusing with Republicans anyway – thus possibly putting big tobacco’s best friend, Mitch McConnell, in charge of the Senate.  Orman does have some decent progressive leanings in some areas – so even if he tacks on a Republican lapel pin once he makes it to the senate, he still has to be better than Roberts.

However, I remain an eternal optimist and am hopeful that Senator Orman will vote as a Democrat – at least on the important stuff.    (And Greg, it’s all important.)

Kris Kobach, the incumbent secretary of state in Kansas, is a well known national quantity.  Some of Arizona’s worst legislation was authored by Kobach.  He needs to be defeated – and a good caning might also be in order.    The current flap over Kobach’s partisan decision to force Chad Taylor to remain on the senate ballot appears to he hurting his own (Kobach’s) re-election chances.    Too bad, so sad.

And then there is the scurrilous Sam Brownback, former congressman and senator from Kansas – and current Republican governor.  Brownback has almost single-handedly wrecked the state's economy by cutting taxes on corporations and the wealthy – and waiting for all of that prosperity to trickle down.  Right now it’s trickling down his pants’ leg, but that’s about the extent of the miracle economy that God told Sam to expect.  Democrat Paul Davis appears to have him on the ropes.  Brownback’s coming defeat couldn't happen to a more deserving individual.

There is a real possibility that Kansas could cleanse itself (at least partially) by kicking out three well-known Republican miscreants this fall.   That will be great news not only for those forced to live under the yoke of radical right-wing oppression in Kansas, but for the rest of us as well.

Dorothy and Toto would be so proud!

Monday's Poetry: "Turkey Fallen Dead from Tree"

by Pa Rock

Poetry Appreciator

I got into the poultry business this past Arpil with a fairly big purchase of four turkey chicks and nearly thirty baby chickens.  Late in May I added twenty baby guineas to the menagerie.  Early in the summer I freed the entire mess to work the yard looking for insects during the day, and would lock them up in the evenings.  Surprisingly, there were no disappearances or fatalities – until a few weeks ago. 

Some of the guineas, who have the ability to fly high and always make a racket when their world gets rocked, even by something insignificant, began missing evening roll call, and then one morning I found a dead one – with its head missing.  An old timer told me that was death by owl. 

The next fatality was one of my three beautiful turkey hens.  I found her in the poultry pen with her chest ripped open.  A couple of weeks later a second turkey hen met the same fate.  The left the one remaining hen and the lone Tom.   The final hen will killed in the same manner this past weekend while I was in Kansas City – and last night witnessed the demise of the Tom.   Now all of my beautiful turkeys are gone – and my twenty guineas are down to six – and the chickens number somewhere around sixteen.

I went outside last night right at dark and found the Tom turkey sadly following the guineas around looking for a safe place to roost.  I got him into the pen, but the guineas, who usually sleep in the pen, headed off in another direction.  The turkey pitched such a fit wanting to be back with his friends, that I finally let him go – knowing that was our farewell.

I suspect that I have been feeding a variety of predators.   They apparently all sat back for several weeks making sure that the farmer was harmless, hapless, and helpless - and then came to dinner.  I am very sad about the loss of my birds, particularly the big turkeys with their funny personalities, but such is life – and death.   

The snows are coming, and by the time they arrive I will probably have no reasons left to trek out in the winter weather to do chores.    I will spend the cold months sitting by the fire and blogging – and eating store-bought eggs.    I will be a year older than when I moved here – and much wiser.

(The eight peacocks are fine, by the way, but that is because they are one-hundred percent confined in a coop that they are quickly outgrowing.  At some point in the near future I will have to release them as well.  Fly high, guys.  Fly high!)

Below is a poem about a turkey dying in winter – and shitty days - and life in general.  It speaks to me. Perhaps it will speak to you as well.

Turkey Fallen Dead from Tree

By Dore Kiesselbach

Startled from snow-day slumber by a neighbor’s mutt,

it banged its buzzard’s head then couldn’t solve

the problem of the white pine’s limbs

with wings nearly too broad for a planned descent.

Somewhere an awkward angel knows

whether it was dead before it hit the ground.

Any sinner could tell it was dead after –

eyes unseen beneath bare and wrinkled lids,

feet drawn up  almost as high as hands.

I loved to watch thistle and millet

disappear beneath it in the yard.

As snow covers feathers that will still be

iridescent in the spring I remember seeing

a businessman take a dripping handful

of pocket change and throw it down

a subway grate beside a homeless man.

The coins bounced and clattered, vanishing

in the humid dark.  The rich man said

now you’re having a shitty day too.

But it’s not a shitty day and won’t be

when I retrieve the bird and walk it –

toes curling stiff from a shopping bag –

to a houseless scrap of oak savannah

birdseed drew it from and dig it

into deeper snow so what was hoarded
by a man by the thaw be doled.

Pa Rock’s Handy Guide to Getting a Minimum Wage Job

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I live in an area that is continually suffering from a bad economy.  It was bad thirty years ago when I lived in this county, and it is still bad today.  Unfortunately, that means that most available jobs are entry-level, minimum wage positions – often at eateries.  The few available jobs where someone might actually receive medical benefits and a retirement package are usually filled through a “staffing” company – an organization that contracts with the hiring company to finds appropriate people, and then receives a share of the worker’s wages for several months.  They are what we used to call “employment agencies.”

A few weeks ago as I was driving around town, I noticed a sign at the Huddle House (a pancake place, I think) saying they were hiring cooks for all shifts.  A few days ago I spotted a sign at the local Hardee’s seeking employees for all shifts.  Those are the types of jobs that are available – especially now that school is back in session and the fast food labor pool has been reduced.

We're talking lowly, demeaning work.  We’ve all been there, or most of us have anyway, and we are not anxious to return to the step below the bottom rung on the employment ladder.   However, in order to survive, sometimes we must do what we must do.

Perhaps the only thing sadder than having to apply to be a pancake or burger flipper, would be to apply for one of those jobs and then not get it.  As someone who had to make many hiring decisions and provide numerous references during my working career,  I think I know a few things that might be of benefit to someone trying to land a minimum wage job.

Herewith, respectfully submitted, is Pa Rock’s Handy Guide to Getting a Minimum Wage Job.

1.     Pick up an application in the morning.   Get if filled out, neatly, and bring it back either the same morning or on the following morning.    (People who can’t get around to applying until late in the day will be seen as likely to have trouble consistently getting to work on time – or consistently coming to work at all.) 

2.     Be neat and presentable in all contacts with the company – even when just picking up an application.  The person handing you the application may ultimately be the one who does the selecting. 

3.     If you submit a resume with the application, keep it short and to the point.  One page is best because it can be read quickly.    The manager / head burger flipper doesn’t have time to sit down and read all about your life history and goals and aspirations.  List your last two or three jobs, reasons for leaving those jobs, and names of your supervisor or a reference from each organization.  Also include your basic contact information (address, telephone number, and email address). 

4.     If you do not smoke, note that on the resume as well.  Many bosses know that smoking indicates an addictive personality and potential health issues.  Smokers also tend to stand behind the building during breaks puffing on cigarettes, looking unsavory, and tossing their butts on the parking lot.   Most potential bosses would rather avoid smokers, so if you have that going for you, let it be known. 

5.     Ask to speak to the manager or hiring authority when you submit your application.    Applications that are just dropped off with no personal contact tend to land in a pile and are quickly forgotten.  If the manager is not available, ask when would be the best time to stop by and introduce yourself.  Know that the manager may be much younger than you are, and be prepared to be respectful of their position – even if it doesn’t feel right.

6.     Follow-up, follow-up, follow-up!   Call or stop by within a couple of days after submitting the application and ask if any decisions have been made.  If a few more days pass with still not word, call again.    The employer will soon figure out that you are eager to get the position – and not just an applicant who fades into the pile. 

7.     If your ability to perform some necessary task appears to be in question, volunteer to work a shift or two for free.  That will probably not be allowed due to corporate policy, but the gesture reinforces the idea that you want the job – seriously want the job.  If your offer is accepted, roll up your sleeves and get to work. 

8.     Have a couple of questions in mind to use if you manage to get an interview.   It is a common interviewing strategy to turn the table and ask the applicant if he or she has any questions.  It shows the interviewer your ability to think on your feet.  Example of a question an applicant might ask:   What is the main quality you look for in job applicants?  When the interviewer gives his answer, then use that answer to highlight your own abilities or work history.  If the employer says “promptness,” let him know that promptness is your strong suit – that you were never late at your last position. 

9.     Be ready to talk about why you left your last job – or last couple of jobs – but only if asked.  If you were fired or laid off, be honest and upfront about it – because the interviewer is just one quick phone call away from finding out anyway.  Do not bad mouth a previous employer – even if he was a gigantic jerk.  The interviewer knows that if you are quick to speak negatively of a past boss, you are likely to one day speak negatively of him as well.   Use a blanket statement like there were communication issues with the last boss and you had difficulty figuring out what he wanted or expected – but stay as positive as possible. 

10. Let the interviewer know that you will be at work every day – and on time.   Those are the qualities which are most likely to keep you employed – and keep the boss from having to do interviews again a couple of weeks down the road.  Be dependable!

The jobs are far from ideal, but if you need to work, positions are available.   If you need that job, go after it – and good luck!

Grover's Corners in Kansas City

by Pa Rock
Theatre Fan

Our Town is one of the most enduring plays of the American theatre.   It is extremely minimalist in nature, and often presented on a nearly bare stage with only a couple of tables with chairs representing the two focus households of the production.  Most of the action is usually mimed. 

The play was written by Thornton Wilder during the Great Depression and just a couple of years before America’s entry into World War II.   It offers a nostalgic yet bitingly realistic look into small town American life at the turn of the twentieth century.    The fictional community is Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire. 

Thornton Wilder won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama with Our Town in 1938.    He had previously won the Pulitzer Prize for his novel, The Bridge of San Luis Rey, in 1927, and in 1942 he won yet another Pulitzer, this time for drama again, with his play, The Skin of Our Teeth.

My son, Tim, and I saw the Kansas City Repertory Theatre’s version of Our Town, this past Thursday evening at the Spencer Theatre on the campus of the University of Missouri – Kansas City.  I had seen the play just a couple of years ago at the Phoenix Theatre and was unimpressed.  This production was better.

Tim and I have a history with Our Town, having both been in the Crowder College (Neosho, MO) production of the play twenty years ago.  One of the things that we talked about after the K.C. Rep’s version was the differences in the story between that version and this one – and we decided that the director at Crowder had cut out bits of the play and at least one semi-major character – the alcoholic choir director.

The most exceptional aspect of the Kansas City take on Our Town was the stagecraft.  The cast was unique in the way they were dressed – contemporary casual, with blue jeans being common apparel for the men and women. 

Quite a bit of the action was mimed, as occurs in most standard productions of the play, but the director chose to be more realistic in a couple of places.  There are two scenes where Mrs. Webb was stringing and snapping green beans.   In this production, she worked with actual green beans. 

The most startling turn away from the mimed action, however, occurred in the third act when the recently deceased Emily Webb Gibbs chose to relive a day in her life – her twelfth birthday.  As that scene began, two large wooden doors at the rear of the stage area slid open, revealing an actual old farm kitchen with sunlight pouring through the window.    Mr. Webb was at the kitchen table reading his newspaper, and Mrs. Webb was at the stove frying bacon – actually frying bacon – with the wonderful odor wafting through the theatre!  The contrast with the rest of the play was startling, delineating a vivid difference between life and death.

I read recently that Our Town has probably been seen by more people than any other American theatrical endeavor.  It offers much to think about, particularly the way we stay busy with unimportant things while life rushes by.    For those who haven’t seen it, or haven’t seen in in many years, watching Our Town might motivate you to get more out of life.