Everyday Dissidence

Apple’s Eye

2011-10-06T00:10:00.003-06:00

Heros Gone, a photo by mdt1960 on Flickr.

Thank God, Sarah Palin’s “non-news” that she won’t be running for President wasn’t the most important story in the news today. Sadly however, her “announcement” was upstaged by the passing of Apple co-founder and CEO Steve Jobs.

Given his health in the past couple of years, I know the announcement of his death didn’t come as a surprise. Yet, there is a feeling that the world is somewhat stunned by this news.

Will today go down as one of those days that we’ll always remember where we were when we learned of this, like the Challenger disaster or the attacks on 9-11? I’m unsure, but it’s beginning to feel the same—one great loss.

Like my grandfather who worked some 50 years for Goodyear Tire and Rubber, I have made a living for the greater part of my working years via a Macintosh computer. I wonder now if Gramps felt the same when inventor and founder of Goodyear Frank Seiberling passed away in 1955.

In a world where corporations have taken over the center stage, one has to wonder if we’ll ever see another individual like Steve Jobs. Did it feel this way with the passing of Albert Einstein?

Ironically, hours before the announcement of Jobs’ passing, I created a template for a CD jewel case tray in a little program called Pages—Apple’s watered-down version of page layout giants InDesign and QuarkXPress. It was something that came to me on a whim, something my students could use to raise the bar on an upcoming assignment. Up until that moment, I never gave the program much credence for anything beyond a simple letter-sized flyer, yet there I was for some unexplained reason, creating a custom-sized document that included fold and trim marks.

Perhaps even more ironic was that on the eve of Apple losing their visionary, the newest iPhone release had been characterized as a dud. That’s two big strikes against Apple in the same week. Despite the company’s popularity and success, I’m surprised to find myself wondering if the company will weather the storm. Is it possible that the loss of one man, in this day and age, could bring down a company as successful as Apple?

We shall see. In the meantime, a voice tells me to purchase the new iPhone—as if lighting a candle for Jobs.

High-Powered Low-Lifes in Education

2011-09-19T21:29:00.006-06:00

Kent School Boiler, a photo by mdt1960 on Flickr.

With astonishment, I read the stories about an Al Jazeera reporter named Gabriel Elizondo visiting a local high school football game in Brooks, Texas recently. At the heart of this story was the insipid greeting and dismissal directed toward the reporter coming from the school’s principal, Lisa Yauck and superintendent, Michael Lee.

If you have not heard about this story, I would encourage you to stop here and read the reporter’s blog entry from that day and than read the school superintendent Michael Lee’s response to the Elizondo’s blog.

What first struck me about this event was the total ignorance oozing from these two educational (and one would assume, “informed”) administrator’s regarding Al Jazeera as a legitimate news operation that has matched and sometimes surpassed the coverage of other leading news agencies around the world. It is simply beyond belief. In a world that is becoming more and more polarized, these two jingoist serve as shining examples of incompetence and mediocrity in education while perpetuating malicious hatred within the heart of our country’s innocence—small town America.

It’s no secret that I don’t care for Fox News. I probably see them in the same light as Lee and Yauck view Al Jazeera. However, one thing I know for sure is Fox News has a right to report/film/write a story at my local high school or college athletic event, even if I’m sure they will put their “spin” on it.

Like many lackluster school administrators, Lee cites FERPA as his rationale for turning away Elizondo. Yet anyone who truly knows FERPA certainly knows it is not a counter to freedom of the press—especially when it comes down to something as public as a high school football game… held at a public school no less!

If Michael Lee truly believes FERPA is the justification for spurning a reporter who wishes to interview fans (whether it be students or general public) at a high school football game, he is a second-rate superintendent, and totally incompetent. On the other hand, if Lee is using FERPA to mask his disdain and prejudice for other people of culture, race or religion, he is simply a disgrace. Which ever the two, I know one thing for sure, he should be fired along with secondary principal Lisa Yauck.

Trying To Get Past 9-11

2011-09-12T19:15:00.003-06:00

Not Again!, a photo by mdt1960 on Flickr.

Thank God September 12 has finally arrived. After more than a week’s worth of rehashed 9-11 tributes, interviews, ceremonies and highlights, I’m ready to move on, even if few share in my sentiment.

Call me unpatriotic, but I find it hard to believe that the victims of September 11, 2001 would want us to wallow in so much of that dark day ten years ago. Yet, after all of this time, rather than putting it behind us, it’s as if we would rather go back in time and wade back into that pool of acute pain and sorrow.

Thank you, but I’ll have none of it.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I want to forget that day or pretend it never happened. Even if one wanted to forget it, how could they—something that epic, that tragic? I just don’t want to relive it year in and year out through all the poignant, graphic and sad, sad stories that have been repeated over and over in various outlets of the media.

Like December 7, 1941 (the attack on Pearl Harbor), I think it’s tasteful to stop for a moment of silence and fly the flag each year. But, to have six moments of silence, for example, (when the first plane hit the WTC, when the second plane hit the WTC, when the third plane hit the Pentagon, when the plane crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, and when each of the towers fell) is a bit over the top.

How did 9-11 render our country, our people, our media with this masochistic-like obsession—all the while wearing it on our sleeve for all the world to see? Talk about a chip on the shoulder. Isn’t Halloween enough?

Journalist and author William Langewiesche spent five months at ground zero of the WTC after the attacks and warns, “It’s not to deny the tragedy. It’s to question the utility of public grief.” Langewiesche produced an extensive piece for Atlantic and was later published as a book titled American Ground: Unbuilding the World Trade Center.

Through it all, I can’t help but think of some goody two-shoes cheerleader who was beaten up on the playground by a thug. Despite the fact that she may not have deserved such treatment or it was simply a violent act, she goes on and on all year long about it until many of her friends think that maybe she had it coming.

Even today, September 12, I was hoping my respite would finally arrive. Yet, there were still more stories flooding the media about 9-11.

C’mon America, it’s time to move on and look forward and focus sharply on making America great… again. Besides, football season and the Rugby World Cup are upon us.

Northwest College: Marching Toward Mediocrity

2011-07-26T17:17:00.016-06:00

Northwest College Landmark, a photo by mdt1960 on Flickr.

It was announced in the college email today that Northwest College photographer David Vaughan resigned from his position—effective immediately.

The email came from Payroll Specialist Tracy Gasaway, but it was a forward from the Human Resources Director, Jill Anderson. Why Anderson couldn’t have sent the announcement to everyone herself is beyond me. Yet, another illustration of the convoluted practices of an administration that is far from being above board.

I learned earlier this morning that Vaughan turned his keys in sometime after midnight, when no one was around.

This was a case of someone who wasn’t really wanted—someone not appreciated. This cloud of ingratitude has lingered since Vaughan’s first year on the job when he learned newly-hired college president Miles LaRowe would not have supported the photography position had LaRowe been on the job sooner. An air of non-support and disinterest for his position has prevailed since that first year.

Given such neglect, it seems reasonable that the college’s leadership considered firing Vaughan at any given time, but they couldn’t produce any dirt on him. So, like any spineless, paranoid and heartless operation, they strung him out—making things so discouraging for him, that he simply gave up and quit on the college.

The verbal language that came from those in his department and the administration was typical administrative lip service. But, when it came to putting things in writing there was only a vacuum. No one really supported or fought for Vaughan except those who had no power or real input to his situation. Even the photography department that educated Dave years ago and its four-faculty-members-strong status was relatively mute.

Ironically, other members in his department glided effortlessly through the job-banding process and saw significant pay increases—$10-15K more than his salary. His plea for a proper job banding and compensation was passed around from one incompetent administrator to another like an unwanted stepchild. In the end, Vice President of College Relations, Mark Kitchen and Human Resources Director, Jill Anderson even admitted their own detachment and ignorance of Dave and his position as they planned to hand his case over to an external consultant. Incompetence prevails again at Northwest College. But really, they simply didn’t care.

It’s disturbing to know that Vaughan doesn’t have another job lined up at this time… that’s how bad it was for him. Imagine how miserable you’d have to be in a job, leaving it without having anything else lined up—given the current economical climate.

Ironically, this past spring, an anonymous source reported that Vice President of Administrative Services, Kim Mills received a $10,000 pay increase—something V.P. Kitchen could not verify or deny in his highly, self-touted “rumor clearinghouse” intranet site. One has to wonder how much flack Mills endured for his comfy $10K boost compared to Vaughan’s three-year pursuit for proper job banding. And to no one’s surprise, Mills is considered one of the key administrators who had strongly objected to Vaughan’s job banding reclassification.

Dave Vaughan, College Photographer, a photo by mdt1960 on Flickr.

Another individual who is also critical of the college made a poignant observation about how trouble seems to find those at Northwest College who don’t fit a “Stepford” profile. Such individuals typically work in their own circles due to a unique component in their jobs. Sadly, these are the people that make any learning institution dynamic—which is what education should be. How can a school be dynamic if everyone is on the same page? Like racial profiling, if you’re not seeing the world through the same lens as everyone else at Northwest College, you’ll likely be dismissed.

College professor Harriet Bloom Wilson was one of the first to chime in regarding Vaughan’s departure, “What a pity. David’s photographs have captured all that is special and beautiful about Northwest for years. They represent us around the world.”

My guarded response to Bloom-Wilson’s comment (because I’ve been reprimanded for “improper use” of college email) was simply, “Yeah, starting with myself, he made us look more special and beautiful than we really are.”

What I really wanted to say was something like the following:

“Way to go NWC administration… another step closer to mediocrity.”

“NWC… you will be absorbed.” (From a popular Star Trek episode)

“NWC… where mediocrity prevails.”

There’s so many descriptors of NWC’s administrative leadership that have come up again and again in conversation over the years regarding the dismissals of talented staffers like Dave who have left on their own or were removed outright. So, I’ll put these descriptors here so there can be no doubt as to the words that are spoken in such conversations about the college’s leadership:

Ineffectual
Vapid
Paranoid
Two-faced
Phonies
Insidious

Myopic
Pollyanna
Nefarious

Along the lines of nefarious, several NWC staff members have benefited in their elevated salaries and retirements by listing the supervision of Dave’s efforts in their job description. This is the greatest deception of all because from Day One, Vaughan has been a one-man photo operation who has scheduled shoots, made first-level photo-editorial decisions, developed and executed unique and creative compositions for shoots, made purchase decisions regarding equipment and supplies, communicated with all college staff regarding photography work and managed an extensive data base of images. No one “above” him directed Vaughan in any of these areas. I hope the light of shame finds and exposes these individuals in their incompetent, self-serving, resume-building, life-wrecking ways.

In parting, Vaughan was responsible for many things that never credited his contribution. Most outstanding was coming up with the college’s slogan/jingle, “Northwest College: Your future, our focus.”

In the past years as Vaughan’s enthusiasm waned thanks to the insipid support coming from those around him, he developed a few more slogans that were more accurate of what he felt—reflective of his experience as a Northwest College employee. One of my favorites was, “Northwest College: Don’t not do.”

Thanks Dave for all you did. No thanks to Northwest College and its toxic administrative culture—strangling anything extraordinary or with an inkling of creativity.

The dirty hands of Allstate

2011-06-03T22:42:00.004-06:00

Lost Glove, a photo by mdt1960 on Flickr.

Allstate Insurance Company steals cars... really they do.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine living and teaching in Yuma, Arizona was involved in a head-on car collision that resulted in the demolition of his 1995 Honda Civic—his only reliable transportation. The incident unfolded as an elderly gentleman turned left in front of him as my friend’s Honda entered an intersection under normal circumstances. My friend was on his way to play a celebratory round of golf following the end of the academic year. Although he attempted to avoid the collision, there simply wasn’t enough time and his day at the links was lost along with his car. Thankfully no one was seriously injured.

The other driver was cited and admitted on the scene to police and others that he was completely at fault.

Done deal, right?

Not so fast.

A couple days after the accident, the other driver’s insurance company, Allstate, balked about the incident and indicated that they were not satisfied with the initial reports and questioned whether or not their client was truly at fault.

Today, my friend received an official email from Allstate that they will dispute his claim and therefore, not compensate him for his losses. I’m hard pressed to find a greater example of maliciousness and ill will in the news these days.

My friend’s insurance company, Geico, hasn’t been much help either up to this point, but I’m not quite ready to lump them in there with the ilk of Allstate.

And so, here we have the essence of what is so very wrong with this country. It begins with operations like Allstate who are clearly more interested in turning a dollar rather than righting a wrong—especially when it comes to someone like this friend who is making his way through this world without any kind of safety net or nest egg to fall back on.

In good faith, I made the 1,200 mile journey to Yuma to bring him back to this part of the country where a summer job awaited him. Nevermind that he lost two weeks of full-time pay while he waited (also in good faith) for this matter to settle quickly and fairly. I too was not worried about the expenses out of my pocket knowing he would be reimbursed for the loss of his car, transportation expenses back to Montana and whatever lost wages he suffered.

Instead, the diabolical “good hands” of Allstate Insurance don’t see it that way. Not even remotely. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear one day not too far down the road that insurance companies like Allstate are in the business of stealing cars because that’s what happened to my friend. Simply put, Allstate Insurance stole his car.

As big business executives and board members grow richer while the little folk like us become poorer and trampled by this prolific and rampant self-centered corporate greed, I’m sadly beginning to understand more each day why a person grabs a gun and decides to fly off the deep end and take several others with him/her.

Vision-Mission Hyperbole

2011-03-11T14:06:00.007-07:00

Vision and mission statements... are they a rudder for an organization’s direction or are they just some arbitrary name written on its hull? How do we feel about the crop of vision/mission statements springing up all over our world? Do you find yourself saying, “Gee, it sure is nice to know that my educational pursuits or my efforts in the work place dwell in a house with these pronounced values.” Do we require such reassurance? Are we that insecure?

As you probably have already guessed, I have some reservations about what this public illustration/display of purpose, mission, or vision is all about. However, before dropping a cynicism bomb here, I thought it worthy to investigate these polished proclamations.

I was amused to find the subtle difference between a mission statement and a vision statement. Yet, I wonder how many “average-joes” (like myself) have made an honest effort to interpret these statements—often posted in tandem—and drawing anything from them other than a bunch of high-brow, grandstanding, over-embellished fluff.

One of the first things we need to know is that such statements are a primary element in strategic planning. According to the rich sources of Wikipedia, “strategic planning is the formal consideration of an organization’s future course.” I’d consider this the rudder of the ship that everyone needs to see in feeling safer.

When it comes to strategic planning, three primary questions are tackled: 1) What the institution does? 2) For whom benefits? 3) How does the institution excel at what it does?

Couldn’t anyone answer these questions about a school? 1) educate. 2) those seeking an education—often called students. 3) hire educators who do their job well and hope the administrators stay out of the way.

* * *

Vision statement, mission statement—what’s the difference?

Again, Wikipedia speaks of the vision statement with those things of the future, “…describing how the organization would like the world to be in which it operates.” The on-line source goes on to say that the mission statement “…defines the fundamental purpose of an organization or an enterprise, succinctly describing why it exists and what it does to achieve its Vision.” Or simply, “what do we do?”

One has to wonder how we’ve gone on for so long without these public declarations popping out of every corner of a college campus or corporation. I’m unsure in making the connection, but much of it feels like it is the result of fear. Fear of not covering all the legal bases required in this age of sue-happy, disgruntled individuals who have given up on winning the lottery. I can almost see it in a courtroom...

Prosecuting attorney: Dr. College President, does the school have a mission statement and is that mission statement clearly displayed for the campus population’s view?

Dr. College President: No sir, but we are working on it at this very moment. We just formed the Strategic Planning committee last month.

Prosecuting attorney: Well, there you have it your honor and members of the jury. The school has failed to provide its clients any idea of where the institution is going or how it plans on getting there. I rest my case.

If such glorified statements are simply covering our backside, I would lump them in the same category as those innocuous, minimum-requirement disclaimers such as “batteries not included,” “Acme is an EOI,” and “Any views or opinions presented in this email are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of the company.”

And if they are not affiliated with anything of legalese, perhaps they are only words for the sake of writing and hearing—our own hooptedoodle (see Steinbeck’s Sweet Thursday). As if to say, “We’d like to demonstrate our mastery of... of, language (I suppose). We hope it doesn’t get in the way of your efforts here. Skip it if you wish.”

* * *

What annoys me the most about these statements is they all basically say the same thing, and rarely reflect anything unique about the organization or institution that it serves. And yet we place so much stock in coming up with a unique way of saying something that’s incredibly universal and considered a given.

Here’s an example. Consider the mission statements of three educational institutions: Binghamton University (New York), Northwest College (Wyoming) and Ball State University (Indiana). Can you determine which vision statement belongs to the above? (I’ve left the names out and replaced words such as “university,” or “college” with “school.”)

1) Our school will be a national model of excellence for challenging, learner-centered academic communities that advance knowledge and improve economic vitality and quality of life.
2) Our school is a premier public school dedicated to enriching the lives of people in the region, nation and world through discovery and education and to being enriched by its engagement in those communities.
3) Through a superior teaching, learning, and living environment, our school will be a dynamic and distinguished educational leader that shapes a positive future for students and the many communities it serves.

The answers are listed at the bottom of this post.

I suspect few of us are bright enough (or lucky enough) to differentiate between these three proclamations, and as one friend of mine said not long ago, “Gobblydegook from any institution sounds the same.”

Anyone want to compare mission statements?

As I’ve contemplated these two crowning edicts that so poorly define what an organization or institution is, I’m reminded of a lackluster business class I attended as an undergrad at Arizona State. Often I walked out of any given session thinking to myself that the day’s lesson was simply an organized and overblown presentation on common sense.

In light of all this, I think Nike may have outdone everyone in their “vision/mission” statement—“Just Do It.”

Clearly I’m a skeptic, but I do find comfort in knowing there are instances where such endeavors of purpose are successful and clearly vital and important to those on board, like the comment from one of my Facebook friends who stated, “I am so lucky to work where I do…we’ve grown from 123 employees in 2000 to 250 employees as of this year and we not only hold our vision/mission statement dear to our hearts but we have 250 people protecting the culture. It truly does come from the top. I’m happy to say ours is a rudder!”

Vision Statement Answers: 1) Ball State, 2) Binghamton, 3) Northwest.

Parents Exposed...

2011-02-09T18:20:00.005-07:00

Heather
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Children in Wyoming should not be forced to live with narrow-minded, irresponsible, codependent, and coddling parents. Our kids deserve parents who provide and nurture a solid educational foundation.

This is my response to the bogus “Teachers Union Exposed” directed at the state of Wyoming.

Let’s face it, if we really care about our kids and their future, we must acknowledge that much of a child's education along with their academic foundation and values comes from the home. Children spend much more time at home than the school, so in giving this movement some teeth... let’s include the home and the lessons/demonstrations provided by parents.

Cameras in the classroom and the home along with regular evaluations of teachers and parents! C’mon, who’s with me?

Cameras in Classrooms... Why Stop There?

2011-01-25T00:05:00.009-07:00

Reading & Discussion
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

This is an open letter to Wyoming State Legislative Representative Steve Harshman from Casper regarding his proposal to bring cameras into the Wyoming classrooms.

I just read the story in the Christian Science Monitor regarding your proposal to bring cameras into the classroom for the purpose of teacher evaluations as well as monthly written reviews.

I find it a bit ironic—maybe even hypocritical—that such a proposal is being handed down in a state that is notorious for its resentment of anything that has to do with “big government.” Pardon me for saying, but what you’re proposing smells like big government even if it is a long way off.

As an instructor in the graphics/printing field, I’m OK with cameras in my classroom. Perhaps a few administrators and politicians like yourself will truly learn something useful, and perhaps even develop a real skill that will result in earning an honest living.

That said, my question to you is, why stop there? Let’s introduce the same monitoring equipment into the offices of educational administrators. Along with that, subject them to anonymous evaluations from the body of faculty every semester much like the instructors experience from their students. If you’re looking for dead wood, this will surely produce results—high-paying dead wood at that!

Come to think of it, bringing cameras into the homes would surely curb domestic violence, abuse and neglect as well. And, as a taxpayer and voter, I wouldn’t mind listening in on recordings from the monitored phones of our elected officials too. You’re OK with that aren’t you? As the article stated, you’ll get used to the equipment in no time, and after awhile, it will be like it was never there.

‎“There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became instinct—in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized.” —Orwell’s 1984.

And this...

Harshman responds:
Dear Mr. Morgan,

I have not read the article. In regards to cameras in the classroom; as you know there is a semi-mob mentality regarding education in the Wyoming Legislature this session. Some of it can be contributed to a national trend or mood that is sweeping the country. My proposal is an attempt to fight “fire with fire” so to speak. The proposed tenure bills (where teachers lose their tenure and have at-will employment status where we can be fired for any reason that is “not illegal”) have me moving in order to counter the proposals. I have promoted cameras as a “teacher protection” measure. In addition, increased evaluations would get the principals back in the schools.

In response to the Orwellian comments that your letter drifts of to…? I am not going there. I would focus my efforts on the Senate Education committee where the real threat is. I can assure you, I am working behind the scenes for a favorable outcome.

Thank you for writing,

Warm Regards,

Steve Harshman
House District 37
(R) Natrona County

What’s a Holiday to Education?

2011-01-17T00:51:00.016-07:00

Buffalo, Montana School
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Here in the Equality State (Wyoming), you’d think we’ve got the MLK holiday all figured out when it comes to celebrating the birthday of the highly esteemed civil rights leader. I’m talking about the same state where women were the first in the nation to vote, serve on juries and hold public office—all which arguably paved the way for statehood way back in 1890.

Nevertheless, Wyoming is not as united as one would think when it comes to recognizing this federal holiday. Oh sure, you won’t find a Wyoming bank or post office open anywhere on MLK day, but when it comes to education, it’s a mixed bag.

As an employee of Northwest College in Powell, Wyoming, our doors will be locked up tight on MLK day. The first day of the new semester begins the following day. Even in past years, when the first day of the semester came before King’s holiday, the college still observed MLK day by closing the campus on that Monday.

Yet, in the same town, the local public schools have and will continue to conduct classes like any other day.

Since I’m not a public holiday expert and wondering if MLK Day was some kind of “minor” holiday, I looked up all of the official Federal holidays and discovered that MLK Day is right up there with all the other holidays that result in the closure of our banks, post offices and schools.

Here are the country’s official Federal holidays in chronological order: New Year’s Day, MLK Day, Inauguration Day (every four years), Washington’s Birthday, Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, Columbus Day, Veterans Day, Thanksgiving Day and Christmas Day.

I called someone tonight who works for the schools to see if they could explain to me this obvious oversight on my part. Sadly, they couldn’t explain it or understand it themselves, going as far as saying they found it to be disrespectful of King’s memory.

At first I thought it might be some kind of mandate from the Wyoming Board of Education, but I see several other public schools (i.e., Laramie County and Natrona County Schools) around the “Equality State” will be closed in observance of MLK day including the schools in Cody which are in the same county as Powell.

Ironically, there were no classes last Monday for the Powell Schools although teachers were present for an in-service meeting.

And Martin Luther King, Jr Day is not alone. It appears that Veterans Day and Columbus Day have fallen into this same “second-class” holiday status with our nation’s schools as well.

So, what shall we make of the Park County School District in northwestern Wyoming and other school districts around the country that remain open on MLK day or other Federal holidays such as Veterans Day and Columbus Day? Why are these holidays marginalized? Might there come a day when all Federal holidays will be considered a potential school day? How would the public respond if classes were planned and held on Labor Day or Memorial Day?

I would propose that if Federal Holidays like MLK, Veterans and Columbus Day are potential school days, then all Federal holidays should be held to the same rationale. Perhaps rotating them each year if necessary where schools are open on Labor Day, but not Veterans Day. Better yet, simply expand the calendar a bit more and close the schools for all of the Federal holidays—like the banks and post offices.

Coincidentally next month, the country will observe Washington’s Birthday which will find things turned around here in Powell—the college will still hold classes, but the public schools will be off for the day.

The Powell Tribune ran a sm all story la st year on this same topic. Here is the full story as it appeared.

King’s contributions recognized in classrooms

On Monday, local banks, the post office and Northwest College were closed in observance of Martin Luther King Jr. Day/Wyoming Equality Day — yet in Park County School District No. 1, school was in session.

The Powell school district isn’t alone — for many school districts across Wyoming, it was business as usual.

The federal holiday was first observed in 1986, though it wasn’t until 2000 that all 50 states of the union recognized the Martin Luther King Jr. Day holiday. Our state was one of the last. Even now, Wyoming law leaves it up to individual school district boards of trustees to decide whether the holiday will be observed.

As superintendent Kevin Mitchell said via e-mail, “Some school districts do. Some don’t.”

Mitchell went on to say that, in a conversation Monday with five other Wyoming school superintendents, he learned that none of their districts were closed for the holiday.

“In fact,” he said, “they believe the day can be better observed if students are in school rather than going skiing or to the mall...”

It’s a point well taken. While it may appear at first blush that some Wyoming school districts — including ours — have chosen to not recognize Martin Luther King Jr. Day, it may instead be the perfect opportunity for educators to make their students aware of Dr. King’s contributions. His belief in non-violent and service-oriented approaches to overcoming problems, such as homelessness, hunger, prejudice and discrimination, is a belief from which we still reap benefits. Mitchell added that, while there were no activities planned on a district-wide level, the significance of the day was not forgotten by local teachers, who did indeed take time to recognize King and the ideals he stood for.

Some have said that Martin Luther King Jr. Day should be “a day on, not a day off.” We hope our schools utilized the “day on” to its fullest advantage.

America’s Etheric Gun Laws

2011-01-09T18:43:00.012-07:00

"N" If For "No Gun Laws"
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Too bad 22-year-old Jarod-what’s-his-name in Tucson, Arizona hadn’t been limited to a cumbersome, bolt-action hunting rifle. He likely wouldn’t have taken so many lives. Better yet, even in his “unhinged” mind, he might have reconsidered his actions knowing how inefficient a hunting rifle would play out or how hard it would be to conceal in the implementation of his diabolical plan.

Instead, maybe he simply would have settled for posting another rambling tirade on YouTube.

But, thank God— and The Constitution—Jarod has/had the right to defend himself and our country with a semi-automatic weapon.

The saddest thing about this tragic debacle in Tucson is it will undoubtedly be repeated again and again.

My father asked, “How can a 22-year-old have anything to be that mad about given how much of life is in front of him?”

Even more poignant, another friend noted, “Funny, a guy can be unfit to join the army, but okay to own a gun.”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that a touch of mental illness, combined with true vitriolic rhetoric in our media and easy access to lethal weapons is a concoction that can lead to nothing good.

Beyond pledging ourselves to curbing violent-implied speech and the ongoing plight to understand mental illness, I still find it odd that owning a gun is easier than obtaining a driver’s license.

I just don’t get it... how did something as lethal as a gun end up so loosely regulated—compared to operating an automobile?

Jarod and I are required to pass a test, allowing us to operate a car which requires renewal on a regular basis. Why is that? Answer: For the safety of everyone—as in “general welfare.” Yet, in the purchase a Glock, we simply have to wait an hour or two for a background check and if we’re clean, we’ll never be bothered about it again. No testing on how to use it (never mind psychological testing), no type of insurance is required, no renewal, nothing. We can even sell the gun to someone else without any kind of background check on them... talk about a Pandora’s ammo box.

Of course, nothing is fool proof... people will continue to be killed via cars and guns whether obtained legally or illegally. Yet, imagine the extra fatalities on the road each year if anyone could legally operate a car simply because they were of age—or worse—a loaded semi truck. Sure, maybe you and I wouldn’t let our inexperienced 16-year-old drive without going through a period of careful supervision, but consider the numerous dimwits that would.

Given we have different type of operator’s license for cars, busses and trucks, why can’t we do the same for guns?

If I want to own a bolt-action hunting rifle or single-shot shot gun for hunting purposes, a simple license (something like a normal driver’s license) is all I need apply for. However, if I want to possess a semi-automatic weapon or a large-caliber weapon suited for non-hunting purposes, then my background and character will require some serious scrutinization and on a regular basis—much like driving an oversized rig.

It is certainly true that thugs will continue to obtain guns illegally, but I do believe scenarios like the one that played out in Tucson this past week would be significantly reduced if there was something in place akin to what is required in possessing a driver’s license.

The NRA would like us to believe that restricting access to firearms results in elevated crime rates (i.e., “only criminals will have guns”). However, this is not supported by a substantial body of data at the national level. In countries like Japan and Great Britain—where guns are greatly restricted—deaths from guns are low, especially compared to the United States. Sadly, but not surprising, the USA is a leader in gun-related homicides.

Of course, if my proposal here is so far-fetched, perhaps we should consider the other end of the spectrum such as the gun policies of Switzerland.

Until interpreted otherwise, it is our Constitutional right to own a gun, but it is also the Constitution’s role to “promote the general welfare” of all its citizens. I’d like to believe the latter of these two carries a little more importance.

Where's My Magic Elixir?

2011-01-07T09:31:00.003-07:00

iRenewBracelet
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The other day, a friend "re-gifted" me his iRenew bracelet. This is one of the many new scams, trends, lifestyles, etc. (take your pick) that today's new wave of conniving entrepreneurs are offering up to the American TV-viewing public.

Did you know, Kobe Bryant wears one? See links below to determine which one is best for you.

Sure, I never would have shelled out twenty bucks for one of these even if coming off a big power lotto score, but I thought, "What the heck, I'll give it a try."

I'm sad to say (as reported on my Facebook status page) that after 48 hours of test driving, the iRenew bracelet has not increased my strength, endurance or improved my balance. However, it has managed to irritate me with its cheap stainless steel metal digging in my skin. Thanks to the iRenew bracelet, I'm probably more likely to go off on someone instead of gracefully navigating a patch of ice on the sidewalks of town.

Even Ron Popeil would be disenchanted.

Like so many Americans, I continue to search for that special pill or some other magical shortcut somewhere that will allow me to forgo the track, gym, or weights so I can watch more infomercials while working on a big plate of french fries compliments of my original Veg-O-Matic.

iRenew

Power Balance

True Power

The Top-Heaviness of Christmas

2010-12-20T19:31:00.003-07:00

Brownie Superior Sunset
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The first day of winter—and thus, the shortest day of the year—is hours away as I write this. Living only a few miles from 45 degrees north latitude (the halfway point between the Equator and North Pole), tomorrow’s sunrise is scheduled for 7:43 a.m. while sunset will occur at 4:32 p.m. When the days get this short, most of us know that Christmas is near… unless one lives in the Southern Hemisphere.

I was thinking earlier today about how top-heavy our world is—top-heavy as in dominated by the values of the societies found in the Northern Hemisphere. (On a fragmented sidenote here: From the perspective of outer space and someone who has never looked at a world map, I suppose it could be thought of as bottom-heavy too.)

For all that, it’s unlikely that many Christian-based folk here on Earth consider a gathering around the barbecue during the long days of Christmas unless they live in places like Chile, Australia or New Zealand.

As a kid, I remember the stories of Jesus and his birth on a cold winter’s night… well, as cold as it gets during an Israeli winter. We were never told anything about “a cold winter’s night in the Northern Hemisphere.” What I’m getting to here is that the emphasis of the Christmas story has always been placed on the season, not the actual date of the calendar.

That gets me thinking.

I wonder what it would be like if Christmas was celebrated twice every year—once in the Northern Hemisphere and once in the Southern Hemisphere. Allow me to think aloud here as I haven’t figured out what to do with those living in close proximity to the equator.

Imagine, Christmas… twice in a year, every year. Yeah, that could be a bit much for those like myself, but the retailers would love it, wouldn’t they? Maybe we could order up another sun as well, so we’d never live in darkness again.

And this… the folks in New Zealand wouldn’t have to stay up late just to walk or drive around to look at the Christmas lights. If the Southern Hemisphere celebrated Christmas on June 25 instead of December 25, it would be a universal experience every time it was celebrated—nasty winter weather, fireplaces crackling, dark beers, and short days with plenty of Christmas lights.

My argument becomes more poignant when considering Easter. As you may (or may not) know, Easter always falls on the first Sunday following the first full moon of the Spring Equinox. As Christians, how do we live with ourselves in making our Southern Hemisphere brethren celebrate the resurrection of our Lord during autumn—the season of harvest and living things that die?

By the way, the sun rises on Invercargill, New Zealand at 5:48 a.m. tomorrow, and it won’t go down until 9:35 p.m.—only four days away from Christmas.

Just imagine.

Clichés, Hysteria, Ridicule... and Football

2010-11-02T13:21:00.012-06:00

Discarded Program
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Recently, I wrote the following to the Powell Tribune regarding their lack of coverage (as I see it) in some of the outlying communities.

Dear Editor:
If the Powell Tribune can run a front page story about the monastery’s green light in Meeteetse, why can’t we get a little coverage on the same community’s athletics—even if it’s only the scores?

On a related note, the Tribune had a photographer covering the homecoming parade in Cowley for Rocky Mountain High School and not a word (or image) that the game played that evening was the first home game at their new field. What a missed opportunity that was. I wonder how many of your readers would rather have learned about the new venue and game outcome in Cowley as opposed to the ridiculously overworked piece on the various 3A playoff scenarios—all for a 4-3 football team that will likely be one-and-done in whatever playoffs setting that finds them.
—Morgan Tyree

The 4-3 football team I referenced above was our own local Powell High School football team. In the next issue of the Tribune, the following letter was printed from Powell High School’s head football coach Jim Stringer.

Life’s Lessons
Dear Editor:
My grandfather was a wise man, and he taught me many great lessons in life. Don’t get me wrong, Grandpa wasn’t a well-educated man in the image of great intellectual philosophers, problem solving rocket scientists or small college assistant professors of graphics arts/printing, however, he knew people and he knew dignity and he knew how to use one to treat the other.

As I learned the value of honest hard work living on my grandparent’s farm during the summer months of my elementary years, Grandpa also taught me important lessons in respect, appropriate social behavior and interpersonal communications. Many of the lessons continue to transcend time as sage clichés recognized and understood by most, such as: “Treat others as you would have them treat you.”

Or… “Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes.”

And one of my personal favorites… “It is better to keep your mouth closed and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

Now, my grandfather knew that the latter was not always possible, so he would sometimes follow it up with the age-old classic, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

While this concept seems to be less and less popular in today’s society of reality TV drama, social entitlement and malicious free speech, it would be nice if an educated fool could ponder the impact of his words on many innocent young men of our community. Mr. Tyree, I have no knowledge of personal wrong doing or atrocities committed on you by members of the Powell High School football program so the motivation behind your deliberate and unprovoked attacks over the years completely baffle me.

Maybe it is because of another lesson I learned from my dear departed grandfather, “Misery loves company.” Mr. Tyree, you must be one of the most miserable individuals around to feel the need to ridicule young men for wanting to be a part of something wholesome and greater than themselves. Professionally, I find it reprehensible that another educator would deliberately and publicly insult the community’s youth and seek to demean their efforts and goals. It is unspeakable and inexcusable, and as a father of a young football player and proud member of our school community, I find your remarks tawdry and offensive.

Considering the number of young men and families you have malevolently insulted within our community, I only hope they will be able to subscribe to another of Grandpa’s wise old sayings, “To err is human, to forgive, divine.” —Alexander Pope
Sincerely,
Jim Stringer
Powell, Wyo.

Here’s my response to the esteemed coach.

Dear Editor,
“It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds.”

—Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday in the movie Tombstone.

After reciting a litany of worn-out sayings that he subscribes to such as, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,” Powell head football coach, Jim Stringer then turns around and in the same breath, refers to me as an “educated fool,” and “one of the most miserable individuals around.”

Golly Coach, that doesn’t seem like a very nice thing to say. What’s that your grandpa said again?

And all that for simply saying your football team is 4-3 and “will likely be one-and-done in whatever playoffs setting that finds them.” I actually thought my criticism leveled toward the Tribune was more severe.

I strongly disagree that my brief comment about the local football team was an attack on the community’s youth or families. I am not one to pull punches, and had I intended to insult, it would not have required a long-winded, sanctimonious analysis by Stringer to point it out.

Stringer’s use of the word “ridicule” jumped out at me beyond his “lessons with Grandpa” that he learned long ago. I looked up the word “ridicule” right after reading Stringer’s letter because (as an “educated fool”) I wanted to be sure I really knew and understood its meaning—especially since I was being accused of it.

Ridicule: the subjection of someone or something to mockery and derision.

Since when was referring to a team by its win and loss record and predicting they will only last one game in the playoffs a form of mocking... how is it derisive/harsh? How is it so unreasonable as it is realistic? How does a football coach allow such a minor-league quip from a wimpy, 50-year-old rile him?

The truth be told, after spewing such hysterical drivel, I only wish to ridicule Stringer for coming up with such a poor and exaggerated interpretation of anything I’ve actually said about the Powell football program. Might his response be an illustration of the overly-sensitive climate that has gripped our country in the past decade, thus spurring the “Sanity Rally” this past week in Washington, D.C.? Of all the comical signs that were toted around, one in particular seems appropriate for Stringer to heed: “I disagree with you, but I’m pretty sure you’re not Hitler.”

Ironically, I can’t help but think that our model-of-toughness in Coach Stringer is rather thin skinned—and worse, suggests that his players (i.e., “innocent young men”) are the same. My guess here is that his football players who read my comments have easily recovered from the “ridicule” without counseling. Surely the trash talk they hear from their opponents on the other side of the ball during any given contest will render my words fairly inert in comparison. If not, perhaps football isn’t their game.

From my perspective, Coach Stringer blew a perfect opportunity in the handling of an unintelligent remark from an armchair quarterback (that would be me). Rather than responding with a personal attack on the commentator, Stringer could simply have addressed his team sometime before the big playoff game with, “OK boys, let’s show that lamebrain Morgan Tyree how stupid he is when it comes to Powell football!”

And had they actually won their first-round playoff game, perhaps a sharp rebuke could have followed in the next edition of the Tribune from the team captain that said, “Powell 28, Riverton 14. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it Morgan Tyree.” Rather, the seasoned head football coach responded like a spoiled little girl who was knocked down in a mud puddle.

I admit to being blunt and not having the most tact, but in a world full of Pollyannas (i.e., see Stringer’s worn-out and trite clichés), the last thing I want to be is another person who sugar-coats mediocrity in all of its forms—football included.

Perhaps my upbringing in Northeast Ohio (the cradle of professional football by the way) explains my crude perspective on football (or sports)—so, again, my apologies. Fans of the Cleveland Browns, Ohio State Buckeyes or the Massillon Tigers have never hesitated to praise or take jabs at their favorite team.

Be assured, the Powell football team or its coaching staff have never brought “personal wrong doing or atrocities” upon me as Stringer ponders. However, given that the coach considers comments I’ve made over the years related to the Powell football team as “deliberate and unprovoked attacks,” that could explain his attacks on my character.

Nevertheless, I am only a critic and the last I heard, that was permissible, even if considered “tasteless” or not popular. I do not speak as an educator (again, something pointed out by Coach Stringer) when it comes to football as I am not an authority—merely a fan of the game… with an opinion. Therefore, I seek no forgiveness in expressing such opinions as Stringer has subtly suggested. Nor does he need to seek forgiveness from me for the personal comments he’s directed at my character. It’s all good.

Lastly... I like Lovell’s chances.
—Morgan Tyree
Touted keeper of “vitriolic negativity”

Juan Williams: Objective Subjectivity or Vice Versa

2010-10-21T23:53:00.007-06:00

One has to wonder—even the most liberal-minded of us—if NPR made a big mistake in terminating news analyst Juan Williams for his insensitive and opinionated remarks about Muslims on Fox News’ The O’Reilly Factor.

I’m still processing it.

Some have pointed out that this event has been a long time coming since Williams has weighed in before on other controversial issues—on the same program.

Perhaps it’s a no-win situation for NPR. Had they not reacted at all, hard-core, left-leaning NPR listeners surely would have been calling for his resignation—especially if he had expressed such feelings on one of NPR’s programs.

Many comments are coming in that NPR doesn’t respect Williams’ first amendment rights of free speech unless it is in line with their views. That’s doubtful. Everyone in this country has the right to free speech, but are there really any guarantees when it comes to free speech and job security—especially in the journalism profession?

Perhaps NPR is only guilty in its zeal for objectivity—much like Fox’s zeal for subjectivity. Just take a look at their nightly line-up of opinion-based programming (see image above).

NPR made the following statement following Williams’ termination, “…his remarks on The O’Reilly Factor this past Monday were inconsistent with our editorial standards and practices, and undermined his credibility as a News Analyst with NPR.” Translation: If your career is that of a news analyst, that pretty much means you’re about as objective as they come, so you shouldn’t be out there expressing opinions in any public forums—especially on one of the most opinionated shows in the country.

And I thought Daniel Schorr lived a long life, but now I’m thinking he didn’t live long enough in having the opportunity to chime in on this little drama.

From That Minority Thing.com
What Williams said was dumb, plain and simple. But it was also “dumb” for National Public Radio—one of his media employers—to summarily fire him. Williams deserves the opportunity to defend himself, and at the very least explain what he meant and why he said what he said. And there are few better places for open and honest discourse than NPR. Even if his termination was inevitable, wouldn’t a few moments of clarity been of benefit to both Williams and the listening audience? If not NPR, where? Trust us, discussions of prejudice are best left off cable news. If Don Imus and Dr. Laura were given the chance to illuminate their moments of idiocy, why not Williams?

Goldilocks’ Planets, coffee, algae, and the Gospel

2010-10-02T14:42:00.005-06:00

Wall Drug Dino
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

After hearing a story about the finding of a Goldilocks’ planet like our own (not too hot, not too cold, just right), I was reminded of an Arthur C. Clarke quote about whether or not we (Humans on Earth) are alone in the Universe. Then I took a tangent off into religion and from there, posted the following on my Facebook wall...

Let’s just say we not only discover life on one of these planets, but we make contact with intelligent life as well. Will Christians be obligated/encouraged to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ?

You can read or listen to the story here.

The following comments came in—most of which were on the light-hearted side of the spectrum.

Right after the 1st Starbucks opens there!

Christians will probably engage in evangelism and Muslims will engage in jihad. But cynicism aside, wouldn’t it be cool to find some kind of life somewhere else? Even if it were only algae.

A few days past and then one of my friends on Facebook sent me this as a message:

I was curious about your comment regarding the gospel of Jesus Christ and Christians. I think I was offended by what you had to say and I wanted to be sure before I would make a comment on your wall.

I thought it was a fair question and as cynical as I can be, I felt an explanation was due that had a little more thought to it. Perhaps this is what I should have posted for starters...

Aside the light-hearted feedback regarding coffee, the question I offered up was sincere. I suppose directing the question at Christianity is only because I thought there would be more who would weigh in—I doubt I have many “friends” here on FB who are Muslim, Jewish or other established faiths.

The question is an extension of an Arthur C. Clarke (sci-fi author): “Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.”

I don’t recall ever hearing (or reading) anything about this “scenario”—in the Bible or in church when I attended regularly. That said, I’m not making any claims on authority here. Thus, my question.

At this point in time, it might seem a bit far-fetched, but given mankind’s curiosity and ability to see deeper into the universe, might it be an issue that those of faith will have to wrestle with someday should such proof be presented or contact made?

I found myself considering the two possible directions should such proof materialize and how it could be a conundrum—1. in sharing and preaching the Gospel with/to other intelligent life (non-Human), how does that sit with the teachings of the Bible that are leveled at mankind on Earth only? 2. in not sharing and/or preaching the Gospel with/to this same group, might that be seen as dismissive—elevating ourselves above another intelligent life form as if they were looked upon as animals on Earth—especially if their intelligence is superior to ours?

I hope this explanation clears things up and is not considered offensive as much as it might be simply naive. Regardless, feel free to comment on my wall as you see fit.

… or here in the case of this Facebook-thread-turned-blog.

Dialogue Diplomacy

2010-09-24T17:17:00.004-06:00

Zenning Clint
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I read the Northwest Trail with interest about the facilitator visits on campus recently here at Northwest College. As some of you know, Dr. Pamila Fisher—a facilitator and mediator—was invited to assist us in working through the turmoil of last year as a result of a few significant and controversial events. In particular what caught my attention was her call to “creating a positive environment” by avoiding the use of email and blogs to criticize one another.

Hmmm…

I agree with Dr. Fisher’s declaration as long as we’re focusing on the idea of personal attacks via email and blogs. But, I have to wonder if her counsel could be misconstrued, thus demonizing those who voice their opinions via email and blogs—like me.

Lately, there’s been much talk about the merits of face-to-face discussions over email and blogging. I don’t want to pooh-pooh dialog in the flesh but, it has its drawbacks as well when compared to email and blogging. For one, face-to-face discussions can get quite “passionate” leading to the parties involved saying things they regret. Further, face-to-face meetings often don’t include everyone that should be considered in the discussion.

On the other hand, email and blogging gets everyone involved (that wants to be involved) right away—and if nothing else, produces concerned spectators. “Hiding behind one’s computer” (as some consider it) allows for rationale, careful and organized thoughts to be worked out. Sure I’ve said a few things I regretted after pressing the “send” button, but I’ve regretted much worse and more often when carrying out a discussion in person.

I’m not advocating email and blogging over face-to-face dialog, but I’m also not saying face-to-face is clearly superior either.

Dr. Fisher was quoted in the Trail saying, “I also encourage you that while you’re practicing these things (i.e., not emailing or blogging?) and you have a colleague who does not, to consider having the courage to stand up to them and suggest that it might be better if they did. That’s probably the toughest one on the list.”

Consider me told. Nevertheless, I can be found in FAB 13 where I will gladly refer you to this entry.

The Mosque Masquerade

2010-09-06T20:02:00.007-06:00

Ebert Construction
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I’m thinking about building a mosque in my backyard. One problem: there might not be enough space given my small, in-town lot. Perhaps I’ll settle for a lone minaret.

It would probably be a good idea to convert to Islam before I get started too. I don’t want to come across as some disrespectful infidel mocking Islam.

I don’t know... Honestly, my heart’s not really into it. But, if I had the disposable cash and a little less common sense, I’d do all of these just to piss off the growing gathering of Islamophobiacs.

Islamophobia 101...
Islamophobiac is another name for the God-fearing, banner-waving, Fox-News-crazed, wear-it-on-your-sleeve, love-it-or-leave-it “Americans” who oppose the new Cordoba House Islamic Cultural Center slated for construction near “ground zero” in Lower Manhatten. The cultural center has been likened to a typical urban YMCA, but will include a mosque instead of a chapel.

It comes as no surprise that Islamophobiacs are the same folk who believe President Obama is a Muslim and was born overseas too. Too bad he isn’t a Muslim for the same reason as in paragraph number three.

One I-phobiac said, “It’s a deliberate Muslim thumb in the eye to survivors of the terrorist attacks to build the facility on such hallowed ground.” Admittedly, when I first heard of this, I assumed we were talking about the first-ever mosque destined for New York City—or at least Manhattan. Then, I heard a sound bite about an existing mosque somewhere else in town. Later, I wondered if I had heard correctly and found myself googling “mosque in New York City” that resulted in the graphic with this blog. So, what do the I-phobiacs make of the half-dozen or more Islamic centers and mosques that are already in Manhattan—or the city’s 100-plus mosques located throughout its five boroughs?

Here’s another argument against the cultural center that jumped out at me... “The whole connotation of putting a mosque on conquered lands has overtones here.” Since when was New York City classified as “conquered?” Has anyone considered informing a typical New Yorker that they have been “conquered?” Whoever sides with this viewpoint should take a lesson from the Japanese about all the Americans that were in their country (running it) after Hiroshima and Nagasaki were leveled. I think they lost a few more than 3,000 civilians too. Anyone care to have a discussion about “turning the other cheek?”

Since a handful of Muslims brought down the World Trade Center, I could argue that we need to tear down the synagogues since a handful of Jews crucified Jesus? And surely the churches would be fair game too since their members have killed prostitutes, doctors, teachers and government workers—all in the name of Jesus.

Come to think of it, might as well get rid of religion altogether because all it does is make us feel good about ourselves (and there’s plenty of that going around these days) while excusing us to kill those who don't use the same nuts and bolts when it comes to worshipping God.

Location, Location, Location...
And all of this because the cultural center would be a mere two blocks from the hallowed “ground zero.” Isn’t two blocks in New York City/Manhatten pretty much like... two different worlds? If two blocks is really too close, how far is far enough? Four blocks? How about anywhere but Lower Manhatten? Anywhere but NYC? Sadly, I believe the most popular average American answer is “Anywhere but America.”

Maybe “Anywhere But America” will be the next bumper sticker along with “Not My President.”

I understand where the opponents of this project are coming from. Even President Obama questioned the sensibility of it all. Knowing the building will be so close to Ground Zero, I can almost appreciate how some might feel salt is being rubbed into our wounds, especially if they are truly unaware of all the other mosques in the New York City “gigalopolis.”

And perhaps that’s what really needs to happen here. Given America’s predominant Christian roots, this is the time to practice one of the more memorable teachings of Christ—as it relates to the events of September 11, 2001—“in turning the other cheek.” That said, even now might be too late given the two wars we initiated. Nevertheless, the opportunity to appreciate and welcome a lesson in tough love has arrived. As a country, we would do well in the eyes of the world if we simply all sat down, shut up and took our medicine. And wouldn’t that at least be a modest and admirable Christian gesture?

Facebook: Junk Food for the Internet?

2010-08-18T00:29:00.002-06:00

Custard Squares
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Someone asked me not too long ago about this blog—in particular, where have I been and why haven’t I posted anything lately. Indeed, I’ve been giving that question a lot of thought and though many excuses come to mind, one in particular seems to ring louder than the others.

I’m blaming Facebook. But, it’s not as simple as you might think.

Before giving into the pressure of joining Facebook just over a year ago, when I had something to say, I did so here. And for the most part, it was pretty thoughtful and deliberate (not to be confused with intelligent)—often taking days before I actually posted something. Then, along comes Facebook with its limiting-number-of-characters status updates which has provided myself (and others to be sure) the chance to comment only briefly... but often. That is to say, although I’ve had several thoughts about posting something here about the “ground-zero mosque” controversy, I’ve had my say about it on Facebook even if I wasn’t very thorough or articulate. As a result of my Facebook posts, there is no wind remaining for my blogging sails on this particular topic. I suppose what it all boils down to is this: I’m doing what everyone else is doing—catering to the short-attention span of our 21st Century world.

Further, this inclination of replacing long-winded blogs (relatively speaking) with Facebook status updates about everything that is on my mind (and I’ll refrain from any discussion about Twitter) is akin to one moving from three nutritious meals per day to nibbling on nothing but junk food throughout the day. Surely, I won’t die of starvation, but it doesn’t feel all that healthy either.

Then there is the discussion about addictive behavior as it relates to Facebook. Perhaps that should be saved for when we break up into smaller groups.

It’s hardly New Year’s, but I feel it might be a good idea to make a resolution with myself here and now—something like: less Facebook with a recommitment to more meaningful and substantial material here.

Is it possible? I’m not sure, but in the meantime feel free to friend me on Facebook if you haven’t already.

“Staycations” and Low Gas Prices

2010-06-01T23:57:00.006-06:00

Bed & Chair
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Comment posted to NPR’s Talk of the Nation

Regarding today’s discussion about getting the most of your summer vacation...

When one of your guest brought up the point that gas prices are down, she eluded to the idea that we can go farther in considering travel destinations. True—and I bet the big oil companies loved hearing her make this suggestion.

I sat there thinking how unfortunate it was that no one brought up the idea of continuing the practice or at least considering the “staycations.”

Imagine if “staycations” continued to be a popular form of recreation despite dirt-cheap gas prices—as a form of protest to what has unfolded in the Gulf of Mexico and other past oil-related catastrophes; as a form of protest signaling that we will continue with this frugal behavior until something better for the earth is presented to us in our transportation needs.

Just imagine...

“We Need It All” —Senator John Barrasso

2010-05-27T23:42:00.005-06:00

Light Speed & Wind Speed
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Wyoming’s U.S. Senator John Barrasso was recently interviewed on Wyoming Public Radio’s Open Spaces where he was asked several questions about today’s energy issues—in particular those about energy regulation and transmission lines in the Cowboy State. When discussing his support (or non-support) for renewable and fossil-based energy, seven times he used the term (or a reference to it), “We need it all.”

So... that’s it from Senator John Barrasso when it comes to solving our energy woes: “We need it all.” Not one word from Barrasso about conservation of energy or energy efficiency when it comes to our excessive consumption.

We need it all.

If I didn’t know better, I’d guess the good senator weighs over 400 pounds. Rather than acknowledging he has a weight problem, his response is to simply say he needs more food to maintain is weight and perhaps even get bigger.

I was reminded of the shallow thinking that came from many of our top leaders following the attacks on September 11, 2001. Most outstanding were the words that came from former New York City major Rudy Giuliani when he told reporters during a news conference on September 12, 2001, “Go to restaurants, go shopping, do things, show that you’re not afraid.” Former President George W. Bush basically said the same thing several times too—including urging us to “...get down to Disney World.”

The promotion of consumerism—for whatever reason—seems to be the call to arms in this day and age when things aren’t going our way. Should oil prices soar even higher because it becomes harder to come by, I wonder if Barrasso will use the same approach as Giuliani and company in advising us to take a road trip.

In sorting out our ongoing energy conundrum, I would like to know whatever happen to the promotion of true conservatism? Rather than acknowledging that we will continue to use more energy than ever, when will one of our leaders call us out on the carpet and say, “You know son, it’s time we had a little talk about these 30-minute hot showers you take twice a day.” More importantly, if someone does blurt out the obvious, will we be humble and honest enough to acknowledge such a critique or will be become defensive while wearing patriotism on our sleeve as we’ve done so many times in the past when backed into a corner?

I was surprisingly encouraged today when listening in on President Obama’s press conference regarding the Gulf of Mexico oil spill. He indirectly eluded to Barrasso’s folly which tells me one thing—Obama gets it. Here are his comments (and off the cuff) regarding our precarious lifestyle when it comes to energy.

Now, let me make one broader point, though, about energy. The fact that oil companies now have to go a mile underwater and then drill another three miles below that in order to hit oil tells us something about the direction of the oil industry. Extraction is more expensive and it is going to be inherently more risky.

And so that’s part of the reason you never heard me say, “Drill, baby, drill” —because we can’t drill our way out of the problem. It may be part of the mix as a bridge to a transition to new technologies and new energy sources, but we should be pretty modest in understanding that the easily accessible oil has already been sucked up out of the ground.

And as we are moving forward, the technology gets more complicated, the oil sources are more remote, and that means that there’s probably going to end up being more risk. And we as a society are going to have to make some very serious determinations in terms of what risks are we willing to accept. And that’s part of what the commission I think is going to have to look at.

I will tell you, though, that understanding we need to grow—we’re going to be consuming oil for our industries and for how people live in this country, we’re going to have to start moving on this transition. And that’s why when I went to the Republican Caucus just this week, I said to them, let’s work together. You’ve got Lieberman and Kerry, who previously were working with Lindsey Graham—even though Lindsey is not on the bill right now—coming up with a framework that has the potential to get bipartisan support, and says, yes, we’re going to still need oil production, but you know what, we can see what’s out there on the horizon, and it’s a problem if we don't start changing how we operate.

Palin Takes A Hitt

2010-05-16T16:37:00.004-06:00

Cattle Sign
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Here are some classic excerpts from the June 2010 issue of the Harper’s Magazine article titled “Is Sarah Palin Porn?” written by contributing editor Jack Hitt.

Modern television politics, we are usually told, begins with the famous 1960 Kennedy-Nixon debates. If you look back to them, what you see is not merely the first presidential candidate to realize that packaged talking points come off convincingly on television but also an obituary for a lost political style. Critics always note that Nixon looked crummy in those debates—the five-o’clock shadow, the sweats, the sideways glances, the tugging at his infamous dewlaps. But those gestures are not what sank Nixon. They were merely symptoms of what Nixon was doing, and he was the last politician ever to do it on live TV: Nixon was thinking.

...At a recent “tea party” gathering, she leaned over the lectern and sneered, “How’s that hopey, changely stuff working out for you?” It was a great bit, but a great written bit.

Here Palin most resembles Reagan, but cut her loose from her speechwriters and she shrivels into Dan Quayle. It would not be fair to make this case if she’d had only a few frozen moments with television interviewers. But without a tight script or notes scrawled on her palm, she quickly becomes confused. Her itinerant syntax is now legendary, what Bill Maher calls her gift for unspooling the “sentence to nowhere.” You don’t need to be an English teacher correcting an essay to know that the student did not read the assignment and is slipping into classic high school bullshit.

When Rahm Emanuel referred to liberal activists as “retarded” in a private conversation, she opportunistically pounced. Typically, conservatives stay away from the political-correctness angle. But Palin howled that she was deeply offended. Unfortunately. Rush Limbaugh shortly thereafter denounced the retards in the White House. Retard, retard, retard—he said it forty times, with the usual honking, farting, grandmother-horrifying derision that passes for humor on radio these days. The day after that, Palin defended Limbaugh, drawing a meandering distinction between Emanuel’s comments and Limbaugh’s “satire.” The very next day, an actual satirist, Stephen Colbert, made the argument that “we should all come to her defense and say Sarah Palin is a fucking retard.” For once, Palin shut up.

Mother, Mom, Mum... Erma

2010-05-09T17:10:00.008-06:00

Mum
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

For those of you who remember my mother, Erma, I’m happy to tell you that she is still making deserts, tending to her garden during the growing season, pampering her dog Mandy, and finding projects for my dad around the house.

On this mother’s day I thought I would tip my hat to her for the life she has carried on; especially the one that had to deal with me when I was such a disrespectful, self-serving, arrogant teenager.

Erma Wilma Kline Tyree is now 81-years-old.

My mother was the second daughter and the seventh child born to Thomas and Stella Kline. Seven more siblings came after her as well—fourteen children in all. Here is the line-up: Velma, Earl, Gayle, Herb, Fred, Paul, Erma, Imogene, Shirley, Hillis, Russell, Elenor, Leo, and Dorreen. Of this list, six have passed on including the oldest and the youngest.

Raising children throughout the 60s and 70s, my mother was probably not much different than others during this period. She was a stay-at-home mom which seems luxurious compared to the mothers of today’s kids. I could always count on her to make sure I was awake on time and ready for school, while having a lunch ready for me when I returned home midday. Whatever activities/sports I participated in, she was there to witness my accomplishments and failures and lend an ear of support.

Erma & Pauline Ave House
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I learned many things from my mother. She taught me to behave around girls/women as I entered courtship, she encouraged me to fight my own fights and challenge anyone that spoke untruths. She didn’t tell me who I should make friends with and who I shouldn’t, but she told me a lot about what to look for in a friend. Many of these friends that she welcomed into our home often told me she was a “looker,” but I saw her as the person who kept me in line, took care of me and rewarded me when she saw fit. Several times when I was in high school, I would come home at some point in the evening with a few friends and she would drop whatever she was doing and make us all some of her delicious French Toast. She has always been willing to feed or offer drink to whoever has come around.

As a junior and senior in high school, I was stupid enough to tell my mother during any given disagreement how much I looked forward to moving out after I graduated. And indeed I did—going off to college in far-away Arizona. Fortunately, during my freshman year at ASU, I realized how good I had it thanks to her and—soon after—how much I truly missed her.

Grand Erma
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Each year I travel back to Akron to visit her and my dad. This year will be no different. I’m uncertain as to how many years are left for such visits, but everything about her is permanently written into my fiber.

Along with my own mother, there are a few others who took me in under their wing from time to time as well. These are the “other moms”—the mothers of friends and family.

The Belle of the Ball
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Helen Pryseski lived next door to us and was my best friend’s mom. She always laughed along with our stupid jokes and antics, made the best chocolate chip cookies and was responsible for my appreciation of good chili. During World War II, Helen worked on aircraft that were produced inside Akron’s giant airdock. Never one to get out much, Helen was the quintessential stay-at-home mom who was always upbeat and positive despite losing her oldest son when he was in his 20s.

Phyllis Gilbert was another next-door-mom who raised the five-famous Gilbert kids. Despite the ups and downs between her oldest boys and myself, she always treated me warmly and welcomed me in whenever I came by their house. Florence Henderson’s “Carol Brady” had nothing on Phyllis Gilbert.

Alice Fuller tolerated the taking over of her laundry room by her son Jim and I when we started our own photography business in high school. Even when Jim wasn’t home and we had prints to make, she allowed me to come over after school and set up our basement darkroom while a meal awaited me when I was ready to take a break.

Mamie Lew is Kevin Lew’s mother—my roommate all through college at ASU. I loved this woman before I even met her. She made the best beef jerky and often sent an abundance of it to Kevin with instructions to share it with me. When I travelled home to Oregon with Kev following the completion of another school year, I was as good as adopted in this extensive Chinese-American family.

Orillia LeRoux’s son Bouvier taught me to make tortillas from scratch. He had learned from his mom because she suffered from arthritis. Once I was visiting their place and Bouvie wasn’t home from work yet, and she needed a batch of tortillas to go along with the evening’s dinner. I offered my new skill and following the completion of dinner, Orillia and the entire family paid me several compliments for the tortillas I had made. To this day, every time I make tortillas, I’m thankful for her and the arthritis she endured back then.

Lastly, I can’t forget my grandmother Marcella Tyree who possessed a sharp wit like no one else I knew growing up. She was a prolific crossword puzzler, a wicked card and domino player, scored the Cleveland Indian baseball games she listened to on the radio and always had cookies and milk whenever I visited. Marcella always kissed my friends when I brought them along with me for a visit and truly loved meeting any girlfriends I was willing to introduce to her. An impeccable dresser and always in fashion, she wasn’t shy about discussions that some might have found uncomfortable. One of her more humorous and memorable comments had to do with how she couldn’t do housework in the nude any longer because the wooded area behind their house was being thinned and those living in homes on the other side of the wooded area could now see through.

These accounts above remind me of what Mark Twain once said about his mother, “My mother had a slender, small body, but a large heart—a heart so large that everybody’s joys found welcome in it, and hospitable accommodation.”

The Weather of Economic Times

2010-05-01T14:09:00.004-06:00

Spring Irrigation Ditches
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Even though June 21 is the longest day of the year in the northern hemisphere, that day and the days surrounding it aren’t necessarily the hottest. The same goes with the shortest days of the year not being the coldest.

I suspect this same model applies to global and national economics too. Yet, there seems to be many folk who think that if the administration of Barack Obama was all he and others (like me) made it out to be, we’d be out of the woods by now. As I see it, when Obama assumed the office of the President, that was probably the equivalent of the shortest day of the year—not the coldest.

Have things become worse since he took over? Probably, but not because he has been running the show for 15 months. I chalk it up to the same inertia that brings on the coldest days way beyond those that are the shortest.

Still, I’m not totally happy with every play our President has called, but I knew way back before his election, that whoever won the race, they weren’t going to win the popularity contest that followed. Both candidates promised plenty of pain in turning the country around.

And the promise of pain has certainly found us—as we deserve!

So, are there any signs of spring yet? I suppose it depends on what glasses you might be wearing and what latitude (of economics) you call home. Many economist point toward the “crocuses” of rising oil prices—which isn’t the kind of economic news I personally welcome. Back in December, better economic conditions were reported in consumer spending, moderately improved manufacturing conditions and a slight upswing in real estate activity. Now there is promising news related to jobs, but unemployment is still high. Hardly a banner year, but some signs of life are beginning to take hold.

We’re hardly at the point where we can put away that wooly hat and gloves, but I’m giving Obama the benefit of the doubt. However, if it’s still blustery come 2012, I might reconsider voting for him again, but we should keep in mind that the summer of our economy is still a considerable stretch down the road.

Picking On Posers

2010-04-10T13:35:00.004-06:00

Art Tourist
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Art exhibit openings remind me of going to church—to paraphrase the words of Holden Caulfield (the main character of Catcher in the Rye), “…many of its attendees are a bunch of phonies.” And like many church-goers, I attend because there is a certain guilt I take on when I consider not attending. As a fellow artist myself (a questionable declaration), this guilt is rooted in that my non-attendance could be interpreted as not supporting the artist and, in general, the arts. Fortunately, any guilt experienced is not unbearable, but certainly aggravating.

I just attended an exhibit opening last night and walked away with the same disdain I had the last time I attended one—thinking to myself that I’ll never attend another.

Yet, as I sit here and think about it, attending an art exhibit opening is something akin to attending a high school football game—something I can definitely relate to and enjoy. Like a football game, many people attending an art exhibit opening could care less about the art that is on the walls; they are simply there to socialize and discuss anything with the various individuals they seldom see in attendance. Further, there are others who surely attend for the sole purpose of “being seen.” So, why does the insincere motives of an “art-going” crowd get under my skin unlike the insincere motives of the “football-going” crowd?

Added to my consternation for such settings, when I queried a colleague (also an artist) about his thoughts on exhibit openings last night, he concurred with me, but followed up with a reference to the food and drink provided in saying, “Well, this is a pretty good spread here.”

I will confess that in my attendance last night, I did get to visit with a few individuals that I haven’t seen in a spell, but nothing prevents me from calling them up and inviting them to join me over a cup of coffee either. Now that I think about it, attending an art exhibit opening is a material-world version of signing on to Facebook—nothing more than a backdrop for humdrum socializing.

As an aspiring artist myself, the question of whether or not to attend an art exhibit opening is a true conundrum. If given an “opening” for my own exhibit, I’d just assume not have one, but that’s pretty anti-social. Which (as far as I’m concerned) is OK, because being anti-social has nothing to do with an art exhibit.

Perhaps I would feel better about attending art exhibits (whether my own or those of others) if I knew for certain that the conversations by those attending were limited to topics of the exhibited artwork or art in general.

My solution from here on: stop attending art exhibit openings, but visit the exhibits during regular viewing hours while attempting to leave a fairly intelligent or thought-provoking comment in the guest book. Hopefully the artist will appreciate this approach more than me swooping down on the complimentary hors d'oeuvres and wine while participating in the listless conversations in the presence of their works.

Don’t Report No News

2010-03-13T19:36:00.008-07:00

Do you know Kate? Perhaps another Paris Hilton is she?

I still don’t know who this woman really is, but the fact that she was on Yahoo’s home page as the most significant news of the moment is very disheartening. And it’s all about her hair for Pete’s sake. Who makes these moronic decisions? Even from a photo opp perspective, there must be something more important than some no-talent, famous-for-fluff character who is supporting a new “do.” Twenty years from now will anyone know her for being anything more than she is today?

Talk about a slow-news day. Thank God I’m still without TV.

The Fish Revolution Begins

2010-02-18T15:14:00.004-07:00

They Eat Their Own Don’t They?

2010-02-14T22:49:00.005-07:00

PACtoons: Episode One
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The late Northwest College anthropology instructor Doug Nelson once quietly said to me over a cup of coffee, “Given how many administrators we go through here, why can’t we mold them over time to better serve the college’s real mission (beyond some trite jingle like “your future, our focus”)—resulting in a body of leadership who are more invested in this place?”

At the time when Nelson posed this question, I was in agreement with him responding, “Yeah Doug, how come we can’t do that?” I’d certainly felt this had been achieved with the faculty—including myself. When I came on in 1991, I was pretty raw and didn’t see myself lasting longer than five years. Nineteen years later, for better or worse, I’m still on the job.

Recently, my walks to the workplace each day have sadly become drearier—attributed to a handful of the most powerful people on campus and their concerted efforts to make a power play or two. For the most part, the students, fellow faculty and staff are a joy, but as I think of the institution’s top leadership, only words and terms such as “self-serving, ineffectual, cliquish, mediocrity, spineless, smarmy, out-of-touch, fake, knifing, pollyanna, nefarious,” and “watch-your-back” come to mind. These descriptors have found me via my own experiences with the college’s “upper crust” or in listening to the testimonies of other faculty and staff.

So, it shouldn’t come as a surprise when I say here that the five-headed monster that has become Northwest College gets my vote of “no confidence” here. And there’s nothing I would rather see than a good five-headed decapitation via an axe-wielding Board of Trustees.

Oooooooooo... what shocking news coming from yours truly. This should really shake things up in the workplace. As Bill Cosby often said so unenthusiastically well, “Righhhhhhht.”

It appears that I have been picking on NWC quite a bit lately—much in the same way that I was critical of the Bush administration when they were in power. All I can say is that when targets this large come on the scene, one can’t resist but taking an occasional shot now and then.

A Modest Agreement on Attendance

2010-01-22T10:11:00.002-07:00

Study Hall Teacher
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I wrote the following over the Christmas break following the completion of another semester where students disappeared around midterm and miraculously reappeared as finals were upon us.

I agree the only excused absence shall be defined as a communication to the instructor of this class from another NWC official requesting so. If an absence is classified as excused, assignments may or may not be postponed according to the instructor’s judgment. However, any quizzes, in-class assignments or exams can be made up without penalty. It will be my responsibility to make such arrangements with the instructor. This is all that an excused absence covers. The instructor is under no obligation to repeat the information from classes missed. I take full responsibility for recovering all material and assignments from a class where I was not attending (whether excused or not).

If I am sick (complete with doctor’s note), if my transportation fails me, if there is a death or serious illness in my family, it is not excused. Whether I am to blame for missing class or someone else (including an act of God), I take full responsibility for what I have missed. As a result, I will do my best to take care of myself by getting sufficient rest, nutrition and exercise to at least control those things I have some control over. If I miss a quiz, in-class assignment or exam as the result of an unexcused absence, I accept the “no credit” grade that will likely result.

I will make an honest effort to acquaint myself with fellow classmates. As a result, we can assist one another when one of us is unable to attend via sharing notes or information about the class and provide assistance in the comprehension of the course materials and subject matter to one another.

I understand there is no “extra credit” to make up assignments I have not completed. Missed assignments are “credit,” so why would the instructor/should the instructor give me a chance to earn extra credit when I haven’t completed the regular credit?

Failure to sign this will result in an incomplete grade for this class.

The mistake of a “Foxy” Sarah Palin

2010-01-12T13:56:00.004-07:00

Gummy Rubbers
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

OK, so I’m not a Fox News fan and I’m certainly not a Sarah Palin fan, but that doesn’t mean I wish eternal damnation for both. And so, I don’t get it.

How does a network that uses the jingle “fair and balanced” believe that bringing Sarah Palin on board is going to give them more credibility in the fair and balanced arena? How do they expect skeptics like me to tune in when they’ve taken another step toward the dark side? Talk about reinforcing stereotypes that have everything to do with Fox News being way right of center—and thus off-balance...

Perhaps what is most saddening is they let Lou Dobbs slip away after he left CNN unexpectedly. Who knows, maybe he’s still on their line, and they simply haven’t reeled him in yet. He’s every bit as big a fish as Palin and much more substantial.

And I’m not as naive as I sound. I understand what this is all about—ratings folks, ratings! But at what cost? Fox News is one step away from becoming the classified television version of a supermarket tabloid magazine like the Globe or National Enquirer—neither one known for their astute journalism ethics/practices.

And if Fox News can’t get Lou Dobbs, perhaps they should look at Oliver North or Ted Nugent and leave Sarah Palin to QVC... which will undoubtedly send sales through the roof.

PS: Do you suppose there is any chance that Sarah Palin will get to return the favor and interview Katie Couric? Perhaps Palin can ambush Couric herself with questions like, “So Katie, what do you read?” At the least, I’d tune in for that!

New NWC T-Shirt Design

2010-01-08T13:54:00.002-07:00

Taylor Spartacus
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Just in time for the new semester... show your support for Mike Taylor who suffered from a firing only because he wasn't in with the right people at Northwest College... shame on you Mike!

Just goes to show, it's all about who you know, not how good you are at your profession.

If interested in a t-shirt purchase, contact me via email (mdt1960@yahoo.com)... all proceeds go to Mike Taylor, of course.

The Prophecy of Avatar

2009-12-27T22:57:00.007-07:00

Woodville Drive-In
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Avatar in 3-D... I hear that’s the way to go.

Nevertheless, I settled for watching it in plain-old, everyday 2-D this past week in my little, hometown of Powell, Wyoming. I suppose we’re just darn lucky to see it with the rest of the world in the same week of its release.

Despite all of the eye-candy special effects, I sat in the theatre wondering if anyone else was picking up on that old and tired story line—the one that we should all know by heart—by now.

If we could put Avatar in a movie classification, besides the predictable sci-fi category, I think it would also fit in nicely with that long list of movies and books that recount the stories of greed, excessive capitalism, power and racism. Dances With Wolves, It’s A Wonderful Life, Remember The Titans, King Kong, and the Star Wars Trilogy are some that come to mind.

The writer of one particular column suggested that there were hidden messages of anti-war, pro-environment and racism in this latest story of underdogs battling an evil empire—that coincidentally looks much like the United States.

If they truly were hidden, they weren’t difficult to find. Even viewing the trailers several weeks ago I detected these messages loud and clear. Yet, I wonder if many viewers (especially American) simply don’t see these messages or only see them in the context of the movie and once it’s over (like church), it’s on to the usual business of mindless and excess consumption in a dog-eat-dog world.

When our civilization lies in its self-inflicted ruins, I wonder if those that survive or those that uncover our soiled tragedy will think of us as even more deserving of our demise given the books and movies like Avatar that warned us of our undoing all along.

On a related note… from James Howard Kunstler’s blog:

“ClimateGate,” the latest excuse for screaming knuckleheads to defend what has already been lost. It is also yet another distraction from the emergency agenda that the United States faces—namely the urgent re-scaling, re-localizing, and de-globalizing of our daily activities.

What seems to be at stake for the knuckleheads is their identity, their idea of what it means to be an American, which boils down to being an organism so specially blessed and entitled that it is excused from paying attention to reality. There were no doubt plenty of counterparts among the Mayans when the weather changed and their crops failed, and certainly the Romans had their share of identity psychotics who doubted reality even when Alaric the Visigoth was hoisting off their household treasure.

Reality doesn’t care if we are on-board with its mandates or not. The human race has to get with whatever program reality is serving up at a particular time. Are we shocked to learn that scientists fight among themselves and cheat as much as congressmen? Does that really change the relationships we understand about parts-per-million of carbon dioxide in the earth’s atmosphere and the weather?

Northwest College: The Slide Continues

2009-12-15T18:00:00.011-07:00

Buffalo, Montana School
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

’Tis the season, but as one colleague of mine put it, “The children of Whoville had better watch their toys.”

As finals draw to a close and the last student newspaper is on the stands (once again), the powers-that-be at Northwest College ramrodded their proposal for the intercollegiate soccer program through the last board meeting and, on the next day, fired student activities director Mike Taylor.

Timing is everything, isn’t it? Especially for some administrators at NWC. It takes me way back to another time when an assistant basketball coach was hired in a pretty discreet manner as well.

Perhaps no one has said it better thus far about such timing matters than art instructor Kory Rountree in a campus-wide email, “Funny, firing a very popular member of the NWC community at this moment. Everyone immersed in finals & grading, students leaving town, no college newspaper to carry the news that everyone is talking about right now. Funny, that they still call it a community.”

Someone asked if the leadership of this college really believes they’re pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes? Further, others are going as far as to suggest placing bets that Taylor’s position will be filled by the new soccer program’s coach. Wasn’t it Dana Carvey’s “Church Lady” who said, “Well, isn’t that convieeeeeenent.”

I walked over to Mike’s office today as he was cleaning out his office to see if there was anything I could do. Strangely, outside of his office were the college’s vice president of administrative services along with the facilities director. Might as well have called the campus resource officer too. What a sad day and a sad sight at NWC.

Another conversation with another colleague on this subject concluded with a quote from his father, “We all know the smell of the sea when we approach the shore… and often it stinks like fish.”

Today isn’t the first day when I’ve heard fellow workers complain about the college’s lack of self-goverance, but today that word is going around like wild fire. We can only hope that these events are reflected in the upcoming accreditation visit.

One colleague went as far as to suggest the college community disbar the various governance committees on campus such as the faculty organization since they are—for the most part—powerless. That would certainly get the NCA visitation team’s attention.

* * *

As soon as Human Resources Director Heather Kobbe sent out one of her canned “going” emails about Mike’s sudden “departure,” music professor Jan Kliewer had the courage to ask and state what we all felt, “Why don’t we have the courage to tell the truth? Mike didn’t leave, he was shoved! What a sad, cold and cowardly sentence to end 17 years of service to this institution.”

In answering Kliewer’s question, “Why don’t we have the courage to tell the truth,” I would simply embody the spirit of Holden Caulfield—the main character of Catcher In The Rye—with something like “...because they’re a bunch of phonies!”

All of this leads me to believe that Northwest College (like any cold, sterile and impersonal institution) will do whatever is required to get rid of anyone who has fallen out of favour in its favouritism-prone, nepotism-based administration. They’ll find a reason, they’ll get the documentation and if need be, hold it over their head to keep them in line if they want to keep their job—or in Taylor’s case, just fire him. I’m sure my candidacy has been kicked around as well.

In short, I have serious doubts that Mike Taylor’s firing was about something so bad that the college felt it had no other choice than to fire him. It was a witch hunt—with the sole purpose of getting Taylor fired and replaced with a hopeful crony—a crony the administration is likely already courting.

What Would Waldo Do?

2009-10-20T18:34:00.016-06:00

Comb Ridge
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Waldo Ruess was the brother of Everett Ruess—the explorer, vagabond and artist who went missing in the Four Corners area back in 1934 at the age of 20. Along with his parents, Waldo spent the rest of his life hoping to learn what became of his brother—whether he lost his life or simply decided to start a new one elsewhere under another name.

Next to Amelia Earhart and D.B. Cooper, there is probably not another missing person case that is more popular or mysterious than the story of Everett Ruess. Wallace Stegner, who penned Mormon Country, likened Ruess to a young version of John Muir.

Go ahead, Google “Everett Ruess” right now if you don’t know his story before you read any further.

So, after 75 years, the stars that shine for Ruess have aligned—revealing a secret story of an Anglo murdered by Ute Indians near Comb Ridge in Southern Utah; a grave on Comb Ridge appears to be that of an Anglo; and physical evidence along with positive DNA matches to surviving members of the Ruess family (nephews and nieces)—all point to a solved 75-year-old mystery.

So says National Geographic (Adventure Magazine) and one of its editors/writers David Roberts, and the University of Colorado. Yet, one has to wonder how Waldo would interpret all of these recent events surrounding the disappearance of his brother so many years ago.

Less we forget, it was National Geographic Magazine that attempted to move the Great Pyramids for one of their covers just to make for a more attractive design. Another time, the magazine’s researchers declared the exact location of Christopher Columbus’ landfall despite all the evidence that is lost or inconclusive. Their findings were dismissed by most Columbus experts.

I’m just saying.

Despite my skepticism, I don’t think of National Geographic and its armada of other publications in the same light as your run-of-the-mill gossip magazine/tabloid. I believe they are, for the most part, upfront and forthright. But, knowing they’ve attempted to pull the wool over our eyes before, one has to wonder how many times they’ve succeeded and continue to rush to judgements with their own interests in mind.

Despite my doubts, let’s look closely at National Geographic, David Roberts, and what his team has been hanging its hat on in their bold declaration that Ruess was found last spring.

DNA
The first DNA test used hair from Waldo and bone from the discovered remains. We’re told that the results were negative—the hair was likely contaminated was the explanation. Next, another test was carried out by another—more “credible”—DNA lab (University of Colorado) using saliva samples from Everett’s nieces and nephews. These tests came back with the “overlap” they were hoping to find. From this, Roberts and NG went with the news that “they” indeed had discovered the remains of the famed vagabond. They wrote about it in their magazine and about every major newspaper across the country carried the story too.

My question back then was, “When did negative results followed by positive results equal positive results?”

Photographic Evidence

Wolf Man Panel
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

To back up their data, the University of Colorado also superimposed historic photographic images from Dorothea Lange of Everett Ruess with the skull remains found on Comb Ridge via Adobe Photoshop. UC’s Dennis Van Gerven declared of the morphed portrait and skull, “The bones match the photos in every last detail.”

I found this “research” to be the most questionable. I mean c’mon, they used Photoshop! Hell, I know of college students who could fit these same remains to my own mug—proving the bones belong to me. Given all the tweaking tools in Photoshop, how would any peers validate the integrity of this “research?”

What, Dental Records?!
Besides the DNA and skeletal reconstruction via Photoshop, residing in the special collections at the University of Utah for several years now have been dental records belonging to Ruess from the University of Southern California School of Dentistry (photo to come when permissions are granted).

It wasn’t until after the NGA article on the Ruess findings were printed that a humble, BLM GIS specialist and trained archeologist from Monticello, Utah, stumbled upon the dental records. Like many people living in that part of the country, Paul Leatherbury has possessed a passion for the Ruess story and simply took it upon himself to visit the special collections after reading the Roberts story.

These records indicate that dental work was performed on Everett’s two lower molars on his right side. Leatherbury quickly contacted University of Colorodo professor of anthropology Dennis Van Gerven about the condition of the teeth found at Comb Ridge and was informed via email that the teeth were clean of dental work. Several dentists also examined these records and agree on what should be found. Yet, no evidence of any dental work was detected in the mandible teeth that were found at the Comb Ridge gravesite. The one explanation that could dismiss these dental records could be some scenario where one of Everett’s friends went in to the dentistry school using Ruess’s name. Yet, errors in USC’s record keeping haven’t been proven either. So, the records must be acknowledged or at least considered.

Despite these contradictory dental records brought forward by Leatherbury, one has to ask why Roberts and company pressed on with their insistence that the remains belong to Everett Ruess. Further, how did Dave Roberts overlook the dental records? Was it ignorance (Roberts never made it to the special collections until after the article ran), negligence (he overlooked the records when he did visit the special collections) or arrogance (he found the records, but knew they wouldn’t support the desired conclusion he was seeking so he let them stay buried with all the other documents in the special collecitions)—all of which are inexcusable when stakes are this high?

And I'm not the only one that's not biting.

Waiting for the Light
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Given how much time has passed since Ruess disappeared, the chances become slimmer every year that we’ll ever know where his remains are located—let alone what really happened to him. So, given the story passed down, along with the remains that were found in the same general location described in the story, perhaps this is as good a time as any to make a declaration of this mystery being solved. The evidence is flimsy, but 50 years from now, it will be even less firm.

One has to wonder what profits might come to those who were key figures in the “solving” of this mystery? What book contracts and movie contracts might have already been inked by National Geographic and Dave Roberts—and everyone else who propped up the Roberts conclusions.
As it turns out, Leatherbury’s insistence that the dental records be considered or outright disproved yielded a third DNA test that concluded this week thanks in part to the clout and push of Utah State Archaeologist, Kevin Jones and Derinna Kopp, physical anthropologist, who had their own suspicions about the dental remains too. Anyone want to wager on the results?

Negative. That’s right, negative. Surprised? I’m not. Despite the ever-changing DNA “evidence,” you can be assured that the USC dental records haven’t changed—they still don’t match the remains found on Comb Ridge by Roberts and his associates.

I wonder what kind of profile our friends at National Geographic and the University of Colorado will assume when this news is officially out. Whatever it is, I hope it has something to do with crows.

Even if the mystery of Everett Ruess is never solved, one has to wonder if it might become a landmark case in disputing the omnipotence/absoluteness of DNA testing. Perhaps playing the DNA card isn’t the ace of spades we have made it out to be.

And to think, what if Leatherbury’s questioning could have been easily dismissed? Surely no harm would have been done if the dental records were disproved or dental work was discovered on the teeth that were found. But as the BLM worker said it, “What is more likely: Everett’s teeth healed themselves or the DNA analysis is wrong?”

How close we were to laying to rest a mystery that wasn’t actually solved? What would Waldo think of our sloppy work?

I suppose if the third DNA testing had been positive, a book or movie would have been imminent. Even so, it already makes for a good book or movie without uncovering Ruess’ remains, or knowing his fate. But in America, we typically don’t like endings that leave us hanging—at least that’s not a formula for ticket sales at the box office.

Postscript: This just in…

Ruess Family Accepts Comb Ridge Remains

Are Not Those of Everett Ruess
October 22, 2009 - After further DNA testing, the Ruess family is now convinced that the remains found last year and reported to be those of Everett Ruess are in fact the remains of someone else.

Because of concerns as to whether the skeletal remains found at Comb Ridge in May of 2008 were actually those of Everett Ruess, the Ruess family decided to seek independent scientific confirmation of the initial findings. The family contacted the Armed Forces DNA Identification Laboratory (AFDIL) in Rockville, Maryland. AFDIL, which is part of the Office of the Armed Forces Medical Examiner of the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology (AFIP), performed an additional round of DNA extraction and analysis from samples taken from the same skeleton.

AFDIL's studies determined that remains were not those of Everett Ruess using Y-STR testing and mitochondrial DNA (MtDNA) sequencing. Taken together, the MtDNA and Y-STR evidence establishes the remains are not related to Everett’s closest living relatives. Subsequent reanalysis by the original DNA team could not duplicate their original results.

As a result of the AFDIL findings and the reanalysis, the Ruess family has accepted that the skeletal remains are not those of Everett Ruess. The bones and associated artifacts will be returned to the Navajo Nation Archaeologist for disposition.

The family wishes to thank all the parties of the original research team for their interest in solving the mystery of Everett's disappearance as well those who felt it was important to undertake additional study before concluding the identity of the remains found at Comb Ridge.

The Ruess family would also like to extend its gratitude to all those who have drawn inspiration from Everett's life and work. We hope that their enthusiasm will continue whether or not the mystery is solved. Additionally, we offer our empathy to families everywhere who have lost and never found a loved one. They know, as we do, the subtle and continuous presence of a family member who has disappeared.

Revisiting Reefer Madness

2009-10-02T11:10:00.008-06:00

Mountain Lupine
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

It’s been a long time since I last smoked pot. And for the record, I really did inhale.

So much for getting elected to any kind of public office.

Looking back on it now, it wasn’t that big of a deal to me, nor did I ever come to “appreciate” its mind-altering spells. I wasn’t a regular—never bought weed from anyone, and in general, it wasn’t required for a good time. My memories of marijuana usage are mostly of delirious laughter, sudden cravings for junk food and becoming almost too aware of everything around me. I was never out of control, didn’t wreck any cars, or become hostile toward another as the result of smoking marijuana—some of which I have demonstrated as a “recreational drinker.” I never experimented with or considered other drugs either.

As a football cheerleader for Arizona State University in 1979 and 1980, I was lucky enough to visit all the other Pac-10 campuses when we travelled for football games on the road. I remember Palo Alto, California and walking across campus at Stanford University to the sights and smells of people smoking marijuana along the school’s pedestrian malls. Yes, this was the same Stanford University known for its rich history of academics—where they declared, “Harvard… the Stanford of the East.” Nevertheless, I was quite taken back because I’d never seen anything like that on the campus of my conservative and mainstream-academic ASU.

That was another time apparently.

Last week, four Northwest College students were charged for being under the influence of marijuana in Powell, Wyoming—also my workplace. Two of these students were led out of the dormitory in handcuffs and later evicted from their campus housing residence. After the dust settled, Powell Police officials and their drug dogs were unable to find any illegal substances in the dorm room. According to the student newspaper, the only thing that was found was a roach in the bathroom’s shower drain. Although it did not have any marijuana in it, the papers tested positive for THC.

Talk about a witch hunt.

They’ll probably all pee down one another’s legs if they ever uncover a student with a dime bag in their room. Maybe Powell, Wyoming and Northwest College should put in a bid as the next setting/location for the remake of Reefer Madness.

What makes all of this so embarrassing for me as an employee of this (typically) fine institution is that our campus is a “dry” campus; where the possession of alcohol—especially by those under 21-years of age—is illegal and should be considered as severe as one in possession of marijuana. Yet, students aren’t kicked out of the dorms if they are found with alcohol—even if there is a case of it in their room. But, if there is even a trace of marijuana on an individual or in their room, they’re a gonner!

As an illustration to this inconsistency of tolerance, take a stroll through one of the college parking lots near the dorms and you’ll likely see several empty beer cans in the back of just as many pick-up trucks.

But you know, marijuana is a controlled substance. And in the eyes of some, it appears to be considered more dangerous than alcohol and thus it is somehow “more illegal.” Yet, over the years our campus has lost several students to alcohol-related car accidents—not counting a brutal murder that involved alcohol several years ago. On the other hand, marijuana usage has probably contributed significantly to the late-night sales of Powell’s only 24-hour supermarket.

Some folks just don’t get it—and in this case, it appears to be the college’s administration and the Powell Law Enforcement.

Northwest College would make significant gains if it simply did one of two things in an effort to be fair and consistent—get tougher with alcohol offenders or back off on those who are found with marijuana or under its influence. I’d like to think that the latter of these two options would be sufficient especially if an offending student is making significant progress in their education.

Postscript: Another one of the four students involved in the above campus incident was evicted from his dorm room because a scale was found in his room. The campus resource officer determined it could be used for drugs, the student agreed that indeed a scale could be used for such activity although he did not say that was how he used it. Nevertheless, he was evicted for the admission. Finally, the NWC registrar stepped in and cancelled the eviction after hearing the student’s account. Finally, some rationale thinking is beginning to surface.

Dancing Around The Code

2009-09-08T16:29:00.005-06:00

Tea Party Cowboy
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Why was it such a surprise? Why the big news about so many Americans opposed to President Barack Obama’s address to the schoolchildren of our country?

We were told by the media that this outcry came from those who believe “he was trying to pitch his arguments too aggressively in a local education setting.” Further, they requested our schools to boycott his address because, “Obama was using the opportunity to promote a political agenda.” No one seems to recollect any fuss like this coming from the liberal, Democratic-minded folks about a couple of Republican Presidents addressing our nation’s schoolchildren not so long ago.

Neal McCluskey, associate director of Cato Institute’s Center for Educational Freedom goes as far as to say that students who do not support Obama or his educational policies will begin the school year “behind the eight ball,” or somehow academically trailing their peers.

Like hell!

All of this is simply code for: “We Whitey’s aren’t gonna stand for some Black man (even if he is the President) lecturing our children, period.” I suppose it’s bad enough that those with such narrow views have had it hard enough in accepting that their kids look up to the accomplishments of non-White sports figures, but they’re not about to have anyone of colour lecture to their kids about... well... about anything beyond the world of sports. No siree bud.

So, it’s more fear from the political right—a fear they can’t state bluntly any longer because our country and the world won’t tolerate any kind of outright racism as was once the norm not so long ago.

Some say all of this is simple politics in action—the Republicans don’t want to see a Democrat succeed in the office of the President. I say it’s a bit bigger. Pardon the overt generalizations here, but no Anglo, camo-wearing, Fox News-crazed, Jesus-loving, NRA-jingoist who considers him/herself Republican and conservative wants to see some scary, dark-skinned, Willie Horton-like boogeyman succeed at the Presidency.

There, I said what many people already know or think.

And so they dance around it acting all concerned about things that really don’t matter to them assuming there was an Anglo in the White House—Republican or Democrat.

Surely even the most casual observer can see that the political right’s views are hidden behind the language that falls just short of outright racism. Most of us know some of those replacement words and phrases that are meant to scare us—all with just a whiff of racism floating about: “socialism,” “Chicago politician,” “welfare-loving,” “Barack-Hussein,” “smooth-talking,” “baby mama,” and even “reverse racism.” But, I know my own kind and I can detect that horrible n-word lingering on the tips of their tongues. And it’s killing them that they’re not as free to speak their racist views as their elders once did.

God only knows what these same people say to their children about our President inside the privacy of their home. They speak of Obama’s wishes to “indoctrinate” the youth. Yet, I suspect the real indoctrination and brainwashing is going on inside their homes—all of which will be ratcheted up following the President’s address to our youth.

We need every single one of you to develop your talents, skills and intellect so you can help solve our most difficult problems. If you don’t do that—if you quit on school—you’re not just quitting on yourself, you’re quitting on your country… —B. Obama

Yeah, pretty horrible stuff for our kids to hear from a President.

The Subtleties of Living in a Red State

2009-08-30T13:02:00.004-06:00

Full Mast
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Talking to a friend yesterday at the first Powell High School football game of the season, he pointed to the American Flag anchored to the top of the mast. “Isn’t it suppose to be at half-mast today,” he inquired. Right away I realized the context of his curiosity as I considered the burial of Senator Edward Kennedy earlier in the day, way back East somewhere.

I didn’t know for sure. When I rode past the First National Bank building earlier in the afternoon, I noted the gigantic flag at half-mast.

But now, neither of us really knew. What was the time span for the flags to remain at half-staff? Was it something directed by the President or did each state of the Union determine if such a display was required and how long it endured? Was it meant only for Federal operations to observe or was it a directive for all?

We also wondered if the flying of the flag at full-mast was a purposeful act given the liberal status associated with the deceased senator by our conservative state or was it simply an oversight—just one of the many “automatic” tasks that unfold before the start of any football game? We considered the passing of a conservative senator such as Utah Senator Orin Hatch; could the same scenario occur?

It didn’t take me long this morning to confirm that indeed the flag should have flown at half-mast last night—all the way up until sunset this evening.

Maybe it was purposeful, maybe it was an oversight. What I really wonder now is this: how many other Americans attending the game last night had the same conversation about the Flag and if my friend hadn’t come along with his inquiry, would it have even crossed my mind?

FaceBook: Functional Fluff?

2009-08-07T11:06:00.006-06:00

Prairie Kitchen
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

So, I finally caved-in to the pressure. I’ve joined Facebook (“FB” as everyone refers to it). That’s what I tell everyone.

The truth is, I gave Twitter a try and summed up that it was like being in a classroom full of energized second graders, all raising their hands because they have the answer. So, my FB test drive begins with first impressions about the same—maybe just a little more complicated or convoluted than Twitter.

Really, I suppose there’s no surprises in FB thus far. It’s pretty much what I thought it would be—95% fluff and 5% substance. As my friend Dave said the other day, “Near-dead relationships can be kept on life support via FB.”

“Radio Nowhere.”—Springsteen
“Internet Nowhere.” —Facebook

Regardless, if I really want to make a serious go of this, I’ll need to develop my FB sorting/navigation skills so I don’t waste so much time that leaves me feeling like I just watched four hours of vapid TV. Who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind or maybe not. Regardless, I’ve already received a few messages that accuse me in so many ways of being a FB party-pooper. I won’t refute that—there are worse accusations one could suffer.

Considering making me your friend on FB? Consider it... seriously.

What Would Mikey Do?

2009-08-06T10:53:00.002-06:00

Tuba City Dog
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Finishing a fourth lap on the Powell High School track and making note of the extremely slow pace, I was determined to run at least eight laps before heading home. Dusk was settling in along with its cooling temperatures and I found myself pondering, “Why bother if this is as fast as you can run?”

The answer came within seconds. Something like, “Well, you do this because the day may come that you have to really exert yourself and if that happens, you’ll be better off.”

It was a Monday evening and up to that point I was the only one at the track. A half lap later along the backstretch, I noted three people entering the facility and their three dogs—two medium-sized, a third was miniature. All three were off leash.

Watching the dogs to see if they would notice me, I’d gone through this routine before without incident. However, it’s likely that the arriving party hadn’t planned on anyone else in attendance and probably hadn’t seen me from the other side of the track in the dimly-lit setting. Nevertheless, I proceeded with my running. Entering the turn, one of the dogs noticed and headed directly for me. I don’t remember if it was barking, but I slowed as it approached and said in a normal voice, “Hey there pooch,” and extended my hand out so it could take a sniff or two while still maintaining my shuffling—all seemed well as the dog passed in front of me.

But as I went by, the dog circled back around from behind and took a bite at my moving leg. It’s mouth grazed over my calf with the snapping sound of a jaw closing rapidly. Stopped, I turned to confront the animal and found it growling and barking in a very hostile manner.

Perhaps I should have simply held my ground or backed away slowly. Who knows what will result when such events rapidly unfold. And every dog is as different as is every person. Nevertheless, I chased after the dog (a technique that has worked in the past) resulting in its temporary retreat, but it returned when the pursuit ceased. The commotion summoned the other dogs and the frenzied showdown was on.

In a matter of seconds, we were in the openness of the football field with two canines circling like sharks on a swimmer in open water. (The third and smaller dog wasn’t of concern despite its threatening behavior as well.)

It wasn’t long before the owners were calling their dogs off, but to no avail. The dogs may as well have been deaf at that juncture. It appeared the owners were completely caught off guard by the presence of a stranger as well as the aggressive behavior displayed by their pets.

It seemed like five minutes had passed, but one should never trust the estimate of time lapse by another who is thrown into a tumultuous event such as a multiple dog attack. Nevertheless, there I was, ironically exerting myself beyond my wildest dreams just minutes after pondering the importance of being in shape.

Too bad I wasn’t in better shape.

During the encounter, I managed to do several things though: communicated with the owners (in not the most civil manner mind you), kept the dogs at bay with kicking feet and fist (connecting on occasion, but not effective in thwarting their attack) and intentionally travelled toward the fence in front of the stands so the attack could be limited to 180 degrees instead of 360.

After the owners finally gained control of their dogs, exhaustion was my next battle, yet free to finally leave. Naturally I was furious about what had just happened especially as I took inventory of my injuries—a deep gash on my index finder and a hyper-extended thumb. The owner approached me requesting we talk about what just happened. In my mind, the only talking required now was with the police along with his name. After several requests, he reluctantly gave his name and I retreated for home while looking closer at the splayed index finger that eventually would require a visit to the hospital and a few sutures.

Walking home in the evening’s soft summer air, I felt pretty lucky given the other possible outcomes.

* * *
My opinion of dogs has not changed regarding this event. Like people, some are good and some... not so good. Although I was furious when it unfolded, I’m not too resentful to the owners of these animals now. And dog attacks won’t cease because the details of one particular conflict were spelled out here.

Nevertheless, here’s how it is from my corner of the ring... my hope is a formidable fine will be produced for the dog owners—short of their pets being destroyed. There’s no need for anyone to lose a member of their family in this case. Beyond that though, it’s likely that there are many dog owners out there who view their pets in the same light as those parents who think their children never get in trouble or never do wrong. Such thinking is dangerous in either case. If we really love our pets as we shamelessly contend, let’s make sure we do everything we can to protect our neighbors from such offenses, before they start asking themselves, “What would Michael Vick do?”

A Sorry, Rye Confession

2009-07-31T11:12:00.005-06:00

Beartooth Grasses
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I just read this book that I should have read years ago. I don’t know how it happened like this. Did you ever find yourself wondering how you missed out on something that everyone else knows about? It makes you feel kind of sorry for yourself if you know what I mean. Here’s what’s really funny about it. The other day I heard somebody use this word that I’ve heard before. Even when I was a kid. But, afterwards I realized I didn’t know what it meant. Well, I sort of had an idea, but I didn’t know for sure. So I looked it up and felt like a goddam fool for not knowing all these years. And I’m 49-years-old. I can’t remember what the word is now, but everyone knows it but me. Well, not anymore, I know it now. Anyway, this book’s called The Catcher In The Rye. Maybe you heard about it, maybe you didn’t. It’s considered a literary classic, but if you want to know the truth, I thought it was OK and all. But some of it really did kill me, really did. You just need to read it yourself. There’s really some funny crap in there, but it sort of depressed me too. Honest to God, all these years, I always wondered what or who the catcher in the rye was when someone mentioned that book. I’d just nod my head like some goddam phony. Anyway, I won’t spoil it here and tell you, but it has nothing to do with baseball. You should read it, even if you already read it years ago.

Going Straight on Route 28

2009-07-26T11:33:00.003-06:00

Straight on Hwy 28
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

There are other roads out there that are surely longer when it comes to being straight or flat, but Michigan’s State Route 28 has its own monotonous magic. Located in the Upper Peninsula, these observations are from an obscure 25-mile section between the towns of Seney and Shingleton.

The mostly-two-lane highway is lined with evergreens, paralleled by a railroad track to the south and occasionally widens for passing lanes. There are no communities or services to distract travellers except for a rest stop just beyond Seney. Most outstanding about Route 28 from its other homogeneous cousins is that even its surroundings consisting mostly of tall evergreens remain the same as one passes over the 25-mile stretch.

In my second traverse of this route—going from east to west this time—I noticed that besides being completely straight (between the two towns mentioned), there were times when I felt as if I was climbing or descending the asphalt. So bothersome was it, that when I felt confident that I was ascending a slight grade, I turned my truck around in the other direction only to find that it felt as if I was climbing in that direction too.

A couple travellers told me Route 28 is considered by some the most boring stretch of highway in Michigan; but really, how can it be? As one zens on its flatness and straightness travelling at 55 mph, the section is consumed before one has the opportunity to become truly bored.

Pearls Before Swine?

2009-06-17T11:53:00.003-06:00

Old Hoop
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

When the new basketball hardware (consisting of hoops and backboards) was installed at the St. Barbara’s Church parking lot in my home town earlier this spring, I was amused, thinking to myself that suddenly there was another location to shoot baskets. I was especially interested in this new development because I knew putting up the baskets wasn’t required, necessary or expected of the church. Simply put, it was a gesture of good will extended by the church to anyone in the community who liked to play the game.

Unfortunately it wasn’t long after the installation of this hardware that some of Powell, Wyoming’s finest delinquents spoiled the new courts for everyone when they started hanging from the rims with their lame attempts at slam dunking the ball, leading to the destruction of the south basket. A couple weeks later, the same fate came to the north basket. It wasn’t enough for these punks to destroy one rim, they had to wreck both. And do you suppose any of them were considerate enough to thank the church for their short-lived escapades in their pathetic display of amateur slam dunking—let alone offer to reimburse the church for the damage? Get real. Sadly, no one does that today.

So, what were those fools at St. Barbara’s thinking? How dare they install sub-par basketball hoops that can’t support the weight of a rotund 5’7”, 250-pound teenager who probably had to jump from the back of his friend’s pickup truck to “dunk and hang.” The good folks at St. Barbara’s just don’t understand that it’s not good enough to only install a basketball hoop that is regulation height—if it can’t support the full thunder and weight of Shaq himself, don’t bother! Further, I’m doubtful that the rims would still be intact if the church had pasted “No Dunking” signs on the backboards—talk about an invitation to tear them down.

So my question is this: When did basketball rims become monkey bars?

Blame it on the NBA. Dunking the ball has become the ultimate shot. There’s nothing more in-your-face and insulting than jamming the ball down your opponents throat... ah, I mean hoop. It’s so God-damn American just like George W. Bush’s, “Bring it on.”

We used to say, “Baseball, apple pie, and Chevrolet” when speaking about those things that are American. Clearly this needs to be updated to something like, “Slam Dunk, Bud Lite, and ATVs.”

At the risk of sounding like a curmudgeon (since I’m nearly 50-years-old), when we played basketball in my youth (pick-up or organized), it was a game of finesse. Every now and then, in a short, comedic outburst we would start playing the game the way it’s played today—only we weren’t prophesying, we simply called it “jungle ball.” After such antics, we quickly went back to playing the game properly. We never encountered bent or damaged rims, only an occasional rim without a net.

Don’t get me wrong, the slam dunk wasn’t alien to us. We knew about it thanks to Wilt Chamberlain, but Wilt didn’t hang from the rim following a “stuff” and besides, none of us were that tall or could jump that high, but we certainly had enough class to offer repair expenses for anything we broke.

I can only think of one way to bring the slam dunk and its self-centered, look-at-me attitude back down to earth in an effort to restore the integrity of basketball... It’s time to raise the rims to eleven feet.

The Extinction of Another Dinosaur

2009-06-11T11:06:00.004-06:00

Dinosaur Motel via Brownie Hawkeye
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Dinosaur, Colorado
4 June 2009

Years ago 1,200 people lived in Dinosaur, Colorado, though someone in town told me it was as high as 8,100. Just over 300 people live here today in Colorado’s westernmost town—only three miles from the Utah border. Up until 1966, the town was named Artesia, but changed to Dinosaur— hoping to capitalize on its proximity to nearby Dinosaur National Monument.

According to the Colorado Historical Society: In addition to oil, the Rangely Field rigs dredged up a sense of Colorado's gold-rush past. The drilling frenzy of 1945 brought a torrent of fortune seekers, quite a few of them cruder than the oil itself. Many landed in Artesia, a brand-new supply center twenty miles north of Rangely. Within a year of its founding in 1945, the community had 1,200 residents and seventy businesses. The high-octane boom could not last forever, of course; in 1965, its population down to 400, Artesia changed its name to Dinosaur and began serving visitors to the nearby national monument. The 1980s brought another growth industry—oil shale—and another surge of new residents, but by the 1990s Dinosaur was once again fighting to stave off extinction.

In the past three years, the local kids have attended an on-line school. Sadly, there are no athletic teams in Dinosaur either. Think of the unique mascot name possibilities for a town called Dinosaur that remain idle now. If any kids want a setting within a traditional education system, they travel 18 miles to nearby Rangely, Colorado—an ugly company town surrounded by oil and gas rigs and all of its residual junk strewn about haphazardly.

For $13 I slept on the ground in my tent at the quiet RV park. I dreamed of my cousin Ricky whom I haven’t seen since I was a teenager. He had returned to take over his brother Ronny’s business following his death.

Everything is for sale in Dinosaur—old motels, restaurants, stores, etc. and many of the streets have dinosaur names like Triceratops Terrace and Brontosaurus Boulevard.

Several old-timers visit one of the local restaurants in town—the B&B. It’s typical small-town talk: something about someone’s dog, high gas prices, winning the lottery, today’s crossword puzzle, health issues, hard-luck-son-of-a-bitch stories, hunting, and fishing—all with the rasp of a smoker’s voice.

Nowadays they go outside to smoke. A picnic table is provided near the front door. A few years ago they must have smoked freely inside the restaurant. I bet they despise these new anti-smoking laws. I can understand their perspective, but I’m thankful I don’t have to breath cigarette smoke while I have my pancakes and bacon—I did plenty of that when I was growing up. It seems like anyone of them could drop dead in the next year—perhaps I should include myself even if it seems more unlikely.

I wonder now, is this a part of America that is disappearing? Is the gathering of old folk in the local diners of America on the brink of collapse? Despite my less-than-complimentary observations, I feel lucky to come across this sight—life beyond the internet, shopping malls and posers living in à la mode towns like Jackson, Telluride or Moab.

I’ll take Dinosaur any day.

Giving And Graduation

2009-05-24T17:10:00.003-06:00

Toyah Texas School
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

In 1978 when graduating from Springfield High School in Akron, Ohio, I accumulated over $200 in gift money. A little more than three years later when I received my bachelor’s degree from Arizona State University, I might have received about $100 in gift money—maybe. Seven years later, I received a Master’s degree in Vocational Education from Northern Arizona University and following graduation, I found myself completely broke with a five grand balance on my credit card. As a result, I ended up selling my ski and camera equipment so I would have gas money to drive back to Ohio for a visit with the family.

I wonder if my experiences in these life’s accomplishments are unique? I suspect they are not. So, I’ll ask the question: Why is it that when almost anyone graduates from high school these days, we lavish all kinds of gifts on them? Yet, when some of these same people go on to earn degrees in post-secondary education, professional certifications or licenses—often going into debt in the process—there’s little fanfare compared to that which is associated with the achievement of something as a mediocre high school diploma.

Perhaps when we receive the announcement from a relative, friend or neighbor who is completing their high school diploma, nothing more than a twenty-dollar bill should be offered. After all, they are only achieving today’s “minimum daily requirement” in this common achievement. However, when they complete their associate’s degree, or secure their multi-engine pilot’s license, we should up the ante—each time for the completion of a higher level.

Given this philosophy of giving, think about how unfortunate it might be for you and your pocketbook to know someone finishing up their Ph.D.

McDonald's: A conduit to world peace?

2009-05-02T18:43:00.016-06:00

McDonald's Coffee Stirrer
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

It’s easy enough for any of us to poke fun at McDonald’s. They’re a big enough target given their status as a successful mega-corporation. And if anyone can be made fun of without serious fallout, it would be a big, international corporation like McDonald’s. Further, this is the same entity that has been aligned with the world’s questionable eating habits while transforming our English lexicon by adding “Mc” in front of words like “fish,” “chicken,” and “flurry.” Even beyond the McDonald’s menu, new McWords are created by McOthers every McDay, implying a certain McDonald’s-esque in anything to do with our McWorld.

And I’m as guilty as anyone in allowing myself to stoop to such frivolity at McDonald’s expense.

So along comes McCafé—with the appropriate accent mark over the lower case “e.” I was ready to hoot and holler with everyone else when I heard of this. As I recall, this has been a purposeful attempt by McDonald’s to take away some of the fussy coffee drinkers from another mega-corporation known as Starbuck’s.

Lucky for my hometown of Powell, Wyoming, McDonald’s decided to install a version of McCafé in our very own McD’s franchise, even though the closest Starbuck’s is 90-miles away in Billings! They didn’t have to do that, did they?

So, the other day I invited a coffee-drinking friend of mine to join me for a test-drive at our local McCafé—he’s a bit of a coffee snob too. Not surprising, it was easy for us to serve up wisecracks as if they were hamburgers—ordering European coffee drinks made with gourmet coffee at something as American as McDonald’s. How preposterous!

McCafé Peace Cup
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Now, for my confession: the McCafé latté was as good as any I’ve had at Starbuck’s. I can’t say it was the best latté I’ve ever had, but it was worth the two-dollar-plus price and certainly beat the hell out of the dark-coloured dishwater that is passed off as coffee in other local establishments for half the cost.

I’d like to think if McDonald’s can do justice to coffee, it’s time for all the other coffee-serving establishments to pony-up as well.

Nevertheless, as we sat there with gourmet coffee in hand, I experienced an epiphany of sorts—caffeine induced no doubt. What if there’s more to this than something as simple as McDonald’s raising the bar on coffee standards in America? Whether intentional or unintentional, is it possible that MacDonald’s McCafés are instilling a greater awareness of cultural diversity with these little, gourmet coffee stand installments—more than Starbuck’s could ever imagine? And stretching this meditation even further, might McCafés be responsible for deconstructing classism, encouraging tolerance while moving us all closer to world peace?

I know the above will take some explaining so, here’s where I’m coming from—along with an abundance of generalizations.

Despite its huge success over the past 15 years or so, Starbuck’s answered the call of those Americans who desired better coffee due to their keen awareness of coffee quality as a result of their worldly travels, culturally sensitive education or both. I would venture to say that Starbuck’s clientele could be distilled down to a profile that is upper middle class, college educated, white-collar workers living comfortably. McDonald’s clientele on the other hand are lower-middle class, not as much college (if any), blue-collar workers and just getting by for the most part. Therefore, it’s probably safe to say that by in large, people who patronize Starbuck’s do not patronize McDonald’s and vice-versa.

So, along comes McDonald’s with high-end Arabica coffees and espresso drinks hoping to win over some of the Starbuck’s customers—and perhaps they have. However, there’s something greater happening here: McDonald’s patrons who may have scoffed at Starbuck’s and other coffee house foo-foo espresso drinks might become a bit curious about this new product since it’s in their own backyard now—and Lord knows, come to like it!

What happens when people come to appreciate something as alien as gourmet coffee and espresso? Don’t they become curious about it—what’s it all about, what is the history, how is it made, who else uses it and where else is it served? All this leading to my theory that McCafés transform the huddled masses of America (that never gave Starbuck’s the time of day) into a people who are more tuned in and sensitive to the world beyond its shining seas.

I know, it’s a stretch, but just think about it when your sipping your next cup. Besides, where else can you get a mocha in Powell at 9:30 p.m.?

Nepotism and favoritism: Can it be defeated at Northwest College?

2009-04-26T10:50:00.005-06:00

Kick Off Blues
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

NWC’s Director of Student Activities and Orientation, Mike Taylor, was recently awarded as this year’s distinguished adjunct faculty. Congratulations are certainly in order and from what I’ve heard of Mr. Taylor’s instruction, the college got this one right. The same is true with Dennis Davis and in his distinguished full-time faculty award.

As the congratulatory remarks came in over the college’s email system, absent were any kind of comments from his direct supervisor—NWC’s Vice President of Student Affairs Dana Young. Further, given Mike’s accomplishments, it was even more odd/ironic that in the same year of his award, he has been removed from all but one of his golf classes for the upcoming summer and autumn offerings and replaced by the Vince Kobbe, husband of NWC’s human resources director, Heather Kobbe.

It’s likely that the good folks in administrative services and student life will defend his removal because the courses “conflict” with Taylor’s incredibly flexible schedule even though he had been teaching the classes for years. Could it be that Mr. Taylor simply teaches some of the funnest classes offered at NWC and a few bullies out there want some of that action?

While Taylor’s predicament is history, the college is now gunning to fill the Dean of Student Engagement and Success Director—a position that has been vacant for over a year and pays somewhere in the neighborhood of $70K-plus. I’m betting few employees of the college could recite the functions of what appears to be yet another administrative job in our top-heavy institution. One of the finalist is Deb Mills, spouse of the college’s Vice President of Administrative Services, Kim Mills. Speaking of betting, does anyone want to make a wager on who gets the nod for this position as well?

An edict is likely coming from the Governor’s office calling for budget reductions at Northwest College and other community colleges around the state. As a result, there’s a good chance a reduction-in-force (RIF) will be activated. And with commentaries like this, I wouldn’t be surprised to know that my position is on the chopping block. Nevertheless, I hope President Paul Prestwich also considers a little “spring cleaning” in his own administrative offices. While he’s at it, perhaps this would be a good time for him to remind us peons on the anti-nepotism/favoritism policy details at Northwest College—if there are any.

Bud Lite vs. The Badlands

2009-03-27T08:19:00.008-06:00

Desert PC
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

“Wyoming people know what’s best for Wyoming.”

This is the expression that kept on going through my mind as I was walking through a garbage-strewn expanse of Wyoming badlands last weekend. Included with the above statement, there is often some kind of declaration about keeping (big) government out of our lives. I suspect this attitude is fairly popular with many of those who live in the country’s other western states as well.

“Those people in Washington D.C. don’t know nothin’ about Wyoming and what it’s like to live out here, I’d just assume they stay put in their big cities and stay out of our business.”

Yeah, the last thing we need is some big government regulation telling us we can’t litter in our high-country deserts. Surely once it piles high enough and becomes visible from town, we’ll go pick it up... you betcha’.

Here are a few other big questions I was mulling over in my head...

Is the cornucopia of trash residing in the surrounding desert the personification of Wyoming’s distain for big government intervention?

Do people who live and love Wyoming do so because they find the vast areas of wilderness desirable or because they prefer to do whatever they please even if it means transforming the landscape into a giant landfill? Surely most of us living in Wyoming would relate to the former of these two rationales, yet there appears to be enough of the latter who are ruining it for the rest of us.

As far as particulars go, most of the trash/litter out there is limited to those places that are accessible by a vehicle—clear evidence of our ongoing haul-it-off-and-throw-it-away society. Some of the trash is very old, some from the day before. Shotgun shells and Bud Lite containers (both bottles and cans) litter the desert—rivaling the excessive number of cow pies. There are a few other beer bottles and cans from other breweries, but Bud Lite is undoubtedly the hands-down winner.

Bud Lite & Friends
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I always thought Bud Lite was shitty beer and now I have another reason for not drinking it.

It’s likely that underage drinkers are responsible for most of the beer-related litter, but I have to wonder if they are the same individuals who are hauling refrigerators or old cars out into the desert, filling them full of bullet holes and leaving them.

And what else might one find amongst the fossils and petrified wood: old automobile transmissions and other car parts, computer monitors and CPUs, furniture, a microwave oven, plastic buckets half filled with rock-hard drywall mud, dirty rags, televisions, ovens, and plastic bags from an assortment of stores in town. Almost all of the above items are riddled with bullet holes too—true to the spirit of an authentic Wyoming desert party.

Again I wonder, if given the opportunity to sit down and visit with the person who took the PC and monitor out into the desert, shot it up and left it—would there be anything they could tell me or explain to me that would convince me that they weren’t a total, self-centered ass?

Wyoming: Like no place on earth.

I suppose it doesn’t really matter who’s to blame in all of this. Aren’t we all to blame—especially if we continue to ignore this steadily growing eye soar in the desert that surrounds us? Nevertheless, I think it’s safe to say that citizens of my community (Powell) and the outlying areas are the ones who have created this local environmental blight.

If you think Wyoming has a better quality of life than just about anywhere else in the country, we agree. —Wyoming Republican advertisement

Monitor Landscape
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

There are those in other states that think their state is as beautiful, I won’t argue. Yet, Wyoming probably makes the top 10 when it comes to any poll that list the most scenic states, so aren’t we obligated to uphold this truth as keepers of its beauty?

In a note of irony... some of the older debris out there has a certain nostalgic appeal to it and perhaps will be picked up by a collector in the near or distant future. Yet, this is no justification for our reckless disposal of our now-worthless, worldly possessions.

I’m not a community organizer, but if there is such a person in our community, my wish is for them to organize/activate our community in a clean-up-the-badlands project. I suspect it’s a big job (and ongoing), but surely it is worth it. Imagine, every weekend (at least during the warmer months of the year) a handful of people venture out into a designated area of public land to pick up and haul out the trash. The local landfill is waiting for our recovered products and we probably have one of the highest number of pick-up trucks per capita than any other part of the country. We owe it to ourselves and the desert that surrounds us. I’m ready to volunteer my time and pick-up truck.

So, let’s meet on April 18th at 10:00 a.m.—the Powell Airport parking lot. From there (depending on the numbers) we’ll head off to a location that is in need of a clean-up. Maybe we can get something started. Seriously! I double-dog-dare you to show up.

And while I’m at it, I have a favor to ask of the gun owners and Bud Lite drinkers who wander out into the desert... is it too much to ask of you to bend over and pick up your spent casings and empty beers?

The Demetrification of Interstate 19

2009-03-17T11:07:00.005-06:00

North Dakota Interstate 94
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The interstate highway that runs between Tucson and Nogales, Arizona (I-19), might not be one of the most scenic stretches of pavement in the country, but it definitely possesses a different “personality” thanks to the metric-based road signs and highway markers posted along this ribbon of asphalt. I always thought it was kind of cool that we had this "eccentric" little stretch of highway in America that was metric based—a little testimony/illustration of America's diversity where the literal rubber meets the road.

So, how did we get these metric-based road signs on I-19 in the first place? It was a little experiment the government carried out when we were seriously considering adopting the metric system—sometime in the early 70s. However, some 30 years later, the good politicians in Arizona have adopted that McDonald's homogeneous mentality and are planning on using $1.5 million of the state’s half-billion dollar stimulus package to replace the signs with our old-school mileage system.

God forbid the travellers of I-19 become a bit confused or mentally challenged all these years with those damn metric signs.

One colleague pointed out that while John McCain has been ranting and raving over the “pork” particulars that have been folded into the stimulus package, he hasn’t complained a word about the pork that’s in his own back pocket—replacing perfectly good kilometer-based road signs with mile-based road signs.

As I sit here and contemplate this menial travesty, perhaps the money would be better spent if it were applied to converting all the other road signs throughout the country into metric-based road signs. Yet, I suppose we’d rather snub our nose at the rest of the metric-based world because it might be a little too much for our educational system to teach another base-10 measurement system. I mean, let’s face it, there’s only a handful of countries in the world that are not using the metric system.

As long as we’re hell-bent against the rest of the world, I propose we get rid of our nickels and dimes and replace them with eighth and sixteenth coins instead. That’ll show’em!

We always talk about what a great country we are—our innovation, our ingenuity, our creativity, and so on. Yet, after all these years of consideration, we are either incapable or too stubborn to adopt something as simple as the metric system.

Go figure.

Remembering Mrs. Brazil

2009-01-22T17:58:00.001-07:00

African Doll
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

What a time to be alive in America—to believe in America.

Having just celebrated Dr. King's 80th birthday, swelling in the background for the entire week was the inauguration of Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States.

I wasn't sure exactly how to go about the business of celebrating on that pseudo-double-barrell holiday. Dr. King and President Obama reminded us about the importance of public service, but I couldn't help but reflect on those of African-American descent who have touched my life over the years. Too bad for me that such individuals are so few. Yet, I'm the only one to blame for such an abbreviated list.

It was only a couple weeks ago that I remembered Mrs. Brazil, and because of these recent events, for the first time I saw her in a new light.

I never gave much thought about her as an African-American. And, to be sure, no one in my family let it be known to me that (in 1966) my foundation for reading and writing were being shaped by an African-American woman. Yes, I owe my humble beginnings in reading and writing to my first grade teacher, Mrs. Brazil.

Up until now, I’ve been rather oblivious to the unique scenario that had shaped my early years—especially in light of those tumultuous times. Only three years earlier the racial atrocities were recorded regarding the 16 Street Baptist Church in Alabama and not long after 1966, Dr. King was gone.

So, folded in between all of this racial strife, a bunch of young White kids growing up in an all-White neighborhood of East Akron, Ohio, were given the first tools of reading and writing by an African-American woman—tools that have have defined the inner core of any civilization.

What a contrast from Kindergarten with Mrs. Scheatzle to the first grade with Mrs. Brazil. Mrs. Scheatzle was a petite and attractive Anglo woman who spoke calmly and evenly. When I walked into Mrs. Brazil's class on the that first day of the first grade, I knew I had graduated. She was a smart dresser, but she was big enough to play linebacker with Ray Nitschke of the Green Bay Packers (or so it seemed). In short, she was no Mrs. Scheatzle. Mrs. Brazil was gentle with us to be sure, but her voice was capable of booming across the room and she had a great, uninhibited laugh. Occasionally, when we started to become unruly she would settle us down by reminding us that we weren't in Kindergarten anymore. She conducted that class as if she were holding court.

In reflecting on that time, the other day I called my mother to see if there was anything she remembered that may have been too harsh for a first grader like myself to comprehend. She only remembers the surprise to hear about Brazil's assignment as a teacher at Ritzman Elementary where I was entering the first grade. Both of us suspect that she may have been the first non-White to teach there—and long before any African-American children attended as students. Regardless, my mother couldn't recall any controversy regarding Mrs. Brazil at Ritzman and only remembers her as a caring and friendly teacher who would call the house to check on my status when I'd been sick and away from school.

I hold a certain sadness today in that I don't know what became of Mrs. Brazil, nor do I know how many years she actually taught at Ritzman. I suspect it wasn't very long because I don't recall being aware of her presence by the time I was in the fifth grade—the last year I attended Ritzman. Like many of my former teachers, I truly regret not knowing what paths she pursued after sharing the 1966-67 academic year with her. I never learned her given name either.

Today, I find myself wondering what pressures and anxieties she experienced as a teacher working at a school that was 100% White way back then? I can't imagine it was as innocent and uneventful for her as it appeared from my first-grade perspective. How did such an assignment even come about? Whatever racial tensions she may have experienced, tolerated, suffered, it never showed. Yet, I have to wonder what would a first grader really notice? For me, she was competent, effective and influential as a first grade teacher. What more has ever been required?

Perhaps even more perplexing is that I don't recall any of the kids from the other classes saying anything about Mrs. Brazil while on the playground or in route to and from school. And the kids attending Ritzman were hardly angels—many used the various inappropriate and offensive names for those of colour and other nationalities. In fact, I remember hearing more jokes about Poles than any other race or nationality.

The fact that my first grade experience with Mrs. Brazil was racially uneventful is probably a credit to my parents who never demonized Blacks or used any of the derogatory, popularized-by-Whites terms for African-American people, although several members of our extended family did—and probably still do to this day.

I've told many people over the years about Mrs. Brazil—not because she was African-American, but because she always called me "Tyree"—my surname. I thought that was cool because my brother and his friends in high school always called each other by their last names and suddenly, my teacher was as cool as they were.

As it turned out, sometime later in the year, she pulled me aside and apologized when she realized that my given name was actually "Morgan." I'm pretty certain I told her it was OK, but had I a little more courage, I would have told her I preferred to be called "Tyree" all along.

On this week when we've celebrated the 80th birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the swearing in of Barack Obama as our 44th President, I'd like to look her in the eye and thank her for being such a powerful and influential force in my early years. Maybe I could even have her read this essay and offer me a little feedback on my writing one last time.

Wyoming: A Prosaic Triangulation Theory

2008-12-28T13:32:00.004-07:00

South Pass Road
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

This has been a long time coming...

On Election Day, I took my "Obama" sign down by 7:00 p.m.—an hour or so after the polls closed in Wyoming. I had decided days earlier that's what I'd do no matter the outcome. Besides it was dark outside by that time.

The election night returns were to start pouring in my 7:00 Eastern Time and once they did, the results came quickly—quicker than many expected. I was glad. I didn't want to see McCain's campaign experience a slow death. Sure I wanted Obama to win, but I wanted him to win big. No ugly recounts in Florida or Ohio. No special meetings of the Supreme Court. Just one big, fat win for Mr. O.

I had promised our girls that if NPR projected an Obama win, I would shout everyone milkshakes. And once the announcement came, I was off on my bike for the goods. By the time I returned, McCain was finishing his concession speech.

How fast did defeat or victory come? Faster than a slow carry out order at McDonalds.

Before it was clear that Obama had surpassed the magical 270 electoral votes required, it was even clearer that Wyoming's two senate seats were going to be won easily by the Republicans. Further, its lone Congressional seat (that was almost won by a Democrat two years earlier), eluded Gary Trauner once again only this time it was a new and improved Barbara Cubin—aka Cynthia Lummis who defeated him and proudly boasted to the media afterwards that Dick Cheney will be her mentor. Wow.

Which brings me to a little triangulation theory I came up with.

As it turns out, President-elect Obama suffered his worst defeat of the night at the hands of the Cowboy State—only 33% of Wyoming's voting electorate darkened their oval for the former "community organizer." The state that simply claims to be OK, Oklahoma, was a close second giving him only 34% of their votes. Even the folks of Arizona and Alaska (McCain and Palin's respective states) were more generous to the senator from Illinois. Throughout the month leading up to November 4, I watched the polls and was puzzled to see that Utah was projected as the most anti-Obama state with less than 30%.

Sadly, I was reassured that Wyoming beat out Utah in the anti-Obama votes once the polls closed on November 4.

So, while Obama and the country talked about and embraced a change in the country's direction, things were going to remain the same regarding the Cowboy State—as usual. Conservative to the bone, and in my opinion, to a fault.

All of this reminded me of an article I read earlier in October from the Billings Gazette—the headline read, "Wyomingites come up short in study of personality traits." Maybe you read it.

It was a study that was published in the September issue of the academic journal Perspectives on Psychological Science. The prevalence of five personality traits were mapped to all of the states including the District of Columbia and sadly, Wyoming scored no better than 48th (out of 51) in three of the five areas. These three areas of deficiency were "openness" (how open to new ideas and new experiences people are), agreeableness (how friendly and cooperative people are), and conscientiousness (how dutiful and reliable people are). Perhaps the only good news from the study for Wyoming is that as a people, we're not very neurotic (how prone to anxiety and stress people are) compared to most of the nation.

Then there is the "Republican for a Reason" advertisements that kept on appearing in my hometown newspaper the Powell Tribune leading up to Election Day. Perhaps you're one of the lucky few to have read them, "If you think Wyoming has a better quality of life than just about anywhere else in the country, we agree." Below that reads, "It's no coincidence that 75% of the top elected leaders in Wyoming are Republicans." As if life in Wyoming is good because of an abundance of Republican politicians?

And how do we get Republican leaders? I suspect there are many folk who consider themselves Republicans casting such votes.

So, what do we have here? First of all, Wyoming led the charge against the man who easily won the Presidency. In other words while most of the country was making a gradual turn to the left, our state made a hard right. Well, that makes sense given the study that basically says we are close-minded, not very friendly or cooperative (see Dick Cheney) and self-centered. What else are we as a people—oh yes, Republican... for a reason.

Do I have to spell it out?

If George W. Bush could run for another term despite his boondoggled presidency, he'd still get re-elected if all he had to count on was Wyoming.

McCain's Skeleton Closet

2008-10-19T12:07:00.004-06:00

Barack Obama a Muslim? A friend of a known "terrorist" from the 1970s? A long-time member of Rev. Jerimiah Wright's church? He still gets my vote because if we're talking flawed character traits and questionable associations from the past (and present), Barack Obama can't hold a candle to John McCain.

You see "my friends," John McCain has a shady history himself through his various associations over the years—all of which are more documented than the trite scuttlebutt on Obama.

Start with a Google search using some of these names and terms and find out how many dots you can connect back to our beloved war hero and maverick, John McCain: Jim Hensley and Kemper Marley (Sr.); Joe Bonanno and John McCain; Kemper Marley and the Mob/Mafia; bombing, reporter, Don Bolles and Kemper Marley; horse racing, Kemper Marley and Emprise.

For those of you that can't be bothered, I'll give you the Reader's Digest version of what you probably don't know about John McCain (in case you haven't figured it out by now)... he has ties to the Mob through his in-laws (the Hensleys). Further he has accepted money for his past (and present?) political campaigns from members of the mafia. Former Mafia boss Joe Bonanno, one of the top five Mafia bosses in New York City, invited Senator McCain and Arizona's governor to his birthday party in Tucson, Arizona in 1995. McCain sent a congratulatory telegram back because he was unable to attend. In 2007 McCain also accepted $2,100 in campaign contributions from each of five members of Bonanno's immediate family.

If Obama's a terrorist sympathizer for attending civic-minded board meetings with 1970s anti-war radical Bill Ayers, what's that make McCain in his cozy ties with the mafia?

Most amazing is that none of McCain's dodgy history has surfaced in Obama's campaigning or via the "liberal" media. I find it hard to believe that either entity isn't aware of the senator's Mafia connections.

What else might we learn about John McCain before we cast our votes on November 4?

On two other notes: Regarding foreign relations experience, McCain pundits have continually pointed out that Senator Obama is lacking in this department. Perhaps he is, but millions of Americans have spoken and are obviously confident in his ability when considering those from his own party that he defeated with more experience—including his VP pick, Biden. One has to wonder how well Sarah Palin's candidacy would have fared if she had competed in the Republican primaries from day one.

When discussing taxes and the now-iconic "Joe the Plumber," McCain has singled out Obama's quote regarding "wanting to spread the wealth around." Why is that such a bad thing? I'll gladly have my taxes increase from 36% to 39% when I'm making $250,000 per year... no problem!

Drillin' & Spillin'

2008-10-05T16:41:00.003-06:00

Permian Basin
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

For those of you who only need sound bites instead of lengthy, articulate essays...

Drill, Baby, Drill =

Spill, Idiot, Spill.

Keep in mind, this article has to do with the same area where the oil industry and its cronies (i.e., wealthy Republicans who stand to gain big time) want to expand drilling.

Dumbing Down Elitism

2008-09-24T11:56:00.002-06:00

Study Hall Teacher
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Elitism... how did it become a four-letter word here in America?

When I was in New Zealand for a year, I remember how the term "dumbed down" became so closely associated with America and Americans. I was somewhat taken back when it came up those first few times. After a while I started to figure out how it was... or at least that's what I thought. My explanation was that the association of "dumbed down" and "America(ns)" had to do with our (i.e., Americans) no-nonsense simplicity, our efficiency and our tendency to eliminate all of the fringe and ornamentation in any given project, our direct line of thought and its application to achieving our goals.

Even when George Bush was elected President in 2000 and I was in Christchurch, many Kiwis I encountered seemed to know what he was all about before I did. They referred to him (back then) the way I do today... not-too-bright, incompetent, butcher-of-the-English-language, arrogant, etc. Again, I was rather taken back thinking to myself, "Well, let's give him a chance before we totally condemn him."

Eight years later it seems that America itself has embraced this image of associating ourselves with the term "dumbed-down." Although we don't think of ourselves with such blunt terminology, however eloquent one states it, the translation is the same: we've been cultivating a growing distaste for anything that resembles elite or elitism. I'm unsure when the movement started, but George Bush's Presidency has certainly fertilized it.

I was just reminded that the founders of this country were elitist—highly educated, cultured, and brilliant. Isn't the formation of the "electoral college" a reflection of such elitism?

Sam Harris' recent Newsweek article attacking the candidacy of Sarah Palin has truly solidified my theory/opinion regarding our aversion to elitism.

I'll finish with quotes from his insightful article here, but I invite you to read the entire piece, print it out, and share with others.

—•— —•— —•— —•— —•—

What is so unnerving about the candidacy of Sarah Palin is the degree to which she represents—and her supporters celebrate—the joyful marriage of confidence and ignorance. Watching her deny to Gibson that she had ever harbored the slightest doubt about her readiness to take command of the world's only superpower, one got the feeling that Palin would gladly assume any responsibility on earth:

"Governor Palin, are you ready at this moment to perform surgery on this child's brain?"

"Of course, Charlie. I have several boys of my own, and I'm an avid hunter."

"But governor, this is neurosurgery, and you have no training as a surgeon of any kind."

"That's just the point, Charlie. The American people want change in how we make medical decisions in this country. And when faced with a challenge, you cannot blink."

...The prospects of a Palin administration are far more frightening, in fact, than those of a Palin Institute for Pediatric Neurosurgery. Ask yourself: how has "elitism" become a bad word in American politics? There is simply no other walk of life in which extraordinary talent and rigorous training are denigrated. We want elite pilots to fly our planes, elite troops to undertake our most critical missions, elite athletes to represent us in competition and elite scientists to devote the most productive years of their lives to curing our diseases. And yet, when it comes time to vest people with even greater responsibilities, we consider it a virtue to shun any and all standards of excellence. When it comes to choosing the people whose thoughts and actions will decide the fates of millions, then we suddenly want someone just like us, someone fit to have a beer with, someone down-to-earth—in fact, almost anyone, provided that he or she doesn't seem too intelligent or well educated.

...I believe that with the nomination of Sarah Palin for the vice presidency, the silliness of our politics has finally put our nation at risk. The world is growing more complex—and dangerous—with each passing hour, and our position within it growing more precarious. Should she become president, Palin seems capable of enacting policies so detached from the common interests of humanity, and from empirical reality, as to unite the entire world against us. When asked why she is qualified to shoulder more responsibility than any person has held in human history, Palin cites her refusal to hesitate. "You can't blink," she told Gibson repeatedly, as though this were a primordial truth of wise governance. Let us hope that a President Palin would blink, again and again, while more thoughtful people decide the fate of civilization.

Maybe It's Not That Bad

2008-09-18T16:10:00.004-06:00

Waiting
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Was it my imagination, but I just finally made it around to watching Bill O'Reilly's interview with Barack Obama and I didn't detect any blood. Geeeeeeze, they were rather chummy weren't they and seemed to see many things on a fairly eye-to-eye basis. At least they appeared to understand one another and where each was coming from. Are things really that bad between the Republicans and Democrats in this country that they can't sit down and talk like these two iconic forces?

Palin & McCain's Bridge To Nowhere

2008-09-11T16:49:00.009-06:00

No Jumping Here
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Despite the research of several different reporters and news agencies coming up with conclusive evidence that Sarah Palin actually did support "The Bridge To Nowhere," to the extent of campaigning and lobbying for it, Sarah Palin's recollection is quite different: “I told Congress, ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ on that bridge to nowhere.” And almost everyday since her memorable (historic?) Republican National Convention speech, she continues to repeat this claim as she stumps around the country with her running mate, John McCain.

With overwhelming evidence of her outright lie, John McCain and his supporters continue to prop her up while backing her deception on this topic. Which really makes McCain and company a bunch of liars too. Wow, there's a news flash, politicians who lie.

But, is it a lie?

Probably, but some might not consider it a total lie. Yet, it's hardly truthful. If the world is as black and white as Republicans like to paint it, I'll side with calling her claim a lie. She only said "no thanks" after the project was dead in the water. As one reporter stated it, she carried out the last rites on the ill-fated project.

And lying about a fairly petty happening of the past in light of those affairs awaiting her and McCain (should they get the nod in November) makes one wonder what else they might be willing to lie about down the road. However, if they eat crow and come clean now about The Bridge to Nowhere, their bid for the election is doomed for certain. Too bad because my respect for them would surely soar. But coming clean in front of the American public doesn't accomplish a thing. Undoubtedly McCain and Palin surely know they have made their bed, and now have to lie in it hoping the American public's apathy and callousness come to their rescue.

Perhaps the saddest thing about all of this is that there appears to be a large percentage of the American public who refuse to believe or simply don't care about such indisputable findings (... well, I'm sure Fox News could come up with something in their arsenal of "crack reporters" that counters all other media reports regarding Palin).

That being the case, maybe Rev. Jeremiah Wright wasn't so far off the mark after all.

Read John Ridley's brilliant piece on "Palinguage."

Post Convention Indigestion

2008-09-08T11:33:00.007-06:00

Wink Politics
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The Democratic and Republican conventions are here and gone—thankfully and, at last. In hindsight, I think my vote could simply have gone to the candidate whose party said, "You know, there's no need for a convention since we already have our unanimous representative, so we're just going to take all that money that we would have spent and give it to a bunch of Katrina victims who still haven't recovered yet."

I watched some and listened to both conventions when I could—neither impressed me much. All I could think was that some rich alumni gave a bunch of money to their alma mater to be used for one big pep rally.

Someone needs to give John McCain muscle relaxers... talk about "wooden." That guy makes Al Gore look like he doesn't even have a skeleton. I know, I know, injuries from his days as a POW...

One things for certain, the next first lady is going to be a "looker" according to some pundits. I heard Cindy McCain's outfit would have maxxed out my credit card—to the tune of over $300,000. Now I want to know what Michelle's "address outfit" set her back.

I keep on reminding myself, that no matter who wins it's got to be better than eight years of George Bush, regardless of what the Obama supporters keep saying. Yet, with Sarah Palin in the room, I'm reminded of Dan Quayle. We'll see how well she holds up come the debates and she finds herself surrounded by a crowd of not-so-faithfuls. I didn't like the idea of Quayle assuming the office should something have happened to the elder Bush back then and I'm not too crazy to think about her taking over either under the same (even more likely) circumstances.

I suppose what has left the greatest impression on me (not necessarily in a good way) from the two pep assemblies was the mantra/cheer coming from the Republican crowd after McCain mentioned the need to drill for more oil—"DRILL BABY DRILL, DRILL BABY DRILL, DRILL BABY DRILL..." Never has there been greater reinforcement for generalizing or stereotyping the Republicans and their short-sighted notoriety. I suppose "Drill Baby Drill" t-shirts are next. Listening over the radio, I could almost see their arms growing longer as their knuckles approached the ground while their brows cast a great shadow across their eyes.

I must be some kind of elitist.

"Elitist"… it really has become a four-letter word thanks mostly to AM-conservative-talk-show radio.

I wonder how many people have considered the true definition of "elitist." Here's one that I found on my liberal-biased, Macintosh laptop computer: a group of people considered to be (and not according to themselves) the best in a particular society or category, esp. because of their power, talent, or wealth.

Well, that ain't me folks—especially the part about power and wealth, while talent is surely debatable.

Hey John, Call Ted

2008-08-16T14:25:00.010-06:00

Fueling Up
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

First it was Abba, then John Mellencamp... now it's Jackson Browne.

Apparently no one in the music biz wants anything to do with John McCain... Poor, old fart.

Most recently, Jackson Browne is suing McCain for $75,000 related to copyright infringement and damages to the singer's reputation. The crime? Someone in McCain's Ohio campaign family decided to use the song Running on Empty to mock Barack Obama's comments about American drivers tuning up their rigs and maintaining proper air pressure in their tires to offset our thirst for petrol at the pump.

Hullabaloo like this can only help Jackson Browne, so why is the singer bringing a lawsuit into the picture? I'm unsure, but if I were him, I'd use my courtroom winnings to fund Barack Obama's campaign even more—talk about adding insult to injury.

So, what's with these high-profile causes like a presidential campaign (Republican or Democrat) helping themselves to someone's artistic work? Sure, I can understand if it's Mrs. Anderson's fifth-grade class making their end-of-year multi-media slide show, but for Pete's sake, it's a presidential candidate representing the entire Republican Party! What are they thinking?

Has anyone in McCain's camp considered Ted Nugent? Isn't he a big-time Republican and a highly decorated NRA advocate? Surely McCain's marketing spin doctors can do something with Cat Scratch Fever, Love Grenade or Nugent's "Can't Grill 'Em Till Ya Kill Em" mantra.

Well, I'm off to the iTunes music store now... gonna replace that vinyl copy of Running On Empty.

The Only Wind Energy Fact You Need To Know

2008-08-03T14:31:00.006-06:00

Martin & Turbines
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

This is directly from a web site of the United States Department of Energy and its Energy Efficiency and Renewable Energy page.

"The wind energy resource in the United States is plentiful. Good wind areas, which cover 6% of the contiguous U.S. land area, could supply more than 1.5 times the 1993 electricity consumption of the entire country."

Read it again.

We don't need to dig up and burn more coal. Yes, transitions are painful, but not as painful if we address them early rather than later.

Too bad a nobody like me is touting this little fact rather than the coal-courting senators of Wyoming (where wind is the only thing more plentiful than coal)—John Barrasso and Mike Enzi.

Dark Days

2008-07-30T18:33:00.003-06:00

Dark Days & Great Basin Rye
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

If I were living in the Middle Ages, I'd probably think the world was coming to an end. Instead, I'm told it's only a wild fire burning in nearby Red Lodge, Montana—some 40 miles away as the crow flies.

At 5:00 in the afternoon on the 30th of July, the day should be bright, but if I didn't know any better, I'd swear a class five tornado was bearing down on my little town.

It's amazing to watch the sun high in the sky turn blood red and at times almost disappear completely. And all around me, flakes of ash fall from the sky that likely came from what was a dead or bark beetle-infested tree.

We've seen conditions like this for about five years running now. When I first moved to Powell, I never saw anything like this. Now, it's an annual event. Yet, every year as the fires start up and choke the sky, I still think to myself that all of this isn't quite right.

I suppose it would be easy for me to say something like, "If this ain't global warming, I don't know what is." But, I don't know. Perhaps it's just a little global bad luck, a hiccup in geological time.

Yet, for those who simply discount it all and confidently (or blindly) say it is only a hiccup and global warming is just another scheme concocted by liberal extremist to control everyones' lives... well, that's quite a gamble to make—with everyone's money, isn't it?

Postscript: Which is more believable: liberal Democrats wanting to control everyone's lives by forcing us to rely on renewable and unlimited energy sources or conservative Republicans wanting to continue with their great profits in maintaining the status quo regarding our dependence on fossil fuels?

What's the worst case scenario if global warming is a hoax and we buy into it?

What's the worst case scenario if global warming is for real and we ignore it?

Wallowing in the Oilzoic Era

2008-07-24T15:40:00.006-06:00

Green Dino
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The other day, I dropped in on a city council meeting. Upon my arrival, I discovered that the council was in an "executive session," so there was nothing to do but sit there and gape and perhaps visit with fellow gapers.

Behind me, a handful of local men were talking about drilling for oil and how easy it is—according to them, 30 days was the time it takes from when they start drilling in the Gulf until oil starts pumping into the Mainland. They were blaming Nancy Pelosi and her fellow Democrats for the high price of gas—that it had doubled since they had taken over the House and Senate. I suppose. Never mind how expensive petrol was before the Democrats took back Congress—and just barely. At least the Democrats haven't declared a mandate like President Bush who barely won a majority (arguably at that) in both elections.

I don't know any of these men or their backgrounds with the exception of one whose background is in physical education and coaching. Because I wasn't invited in on the conversation, I bit my tongue and didn't comment on how short-sighted they all sounded to me. For the most part I kept my trap shut with the exception of one quip I let out to the one I know about solar energy. He wasn't amused and quickly turned the subject to athletics—a topic that was agreeable to both of us.

During the same time, one of these men who seemed to have all the answers was talking about how the proposed drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) would amount to one letter-sized piece of paper in the oversized conference room were we waited. I assume his point was that the actual area of activity was miniscule compared with the entire ANWR region.

Yesterday I watched with sadness the developing news regarding the huge oil spill on the Mississippi River near New Orleans. I will venture to say that the source of the oil in that particular tragedy probably came from an area the size of a postage stamp relative to the designated area around it, yet look at the havoc it has brought to a river that is already dirty enough.

It appears that the Exxon Valdez was not illustrative enough for some of us—not here in Powell, Wyoming at least.

Meanwhile John McCain appears to understand the gravity of the event as he cancelled a visit to an offshore oil rig in Louisiana attributed to the unstable weather from Hurricane Dolly. But one has to wonder if the oil spill in the Mississippi River may have influenced his plans as well. Promoting off-shore drilling with a major oil spill in the same neighborhood makes for an ugly juxtaposition.

I wonder when we (as one people) will wake up to the hollow promises of the oil-dependent age we live in—its always-looming environmental hazards waiting to happen, its filth layered in greed, and its wreckless disregard for the planet we call home?

When will we rise from the dark days of the Oilzoic Era?

Postscript: As I write this, I've heard Republicans argue that Nancy Pelosi's request to immediately free up 70 million gallons of oil reserves won't bring down the price of oil, yet John McCain claims that President Bush's support to open up oil drilling has already caused oil prices to drop. Right...

Whatever happens, I hope the price of oil stays high enough to bring us to a somewhat painful, but necessary transition regarding our future in energy. I like to think of such wishes as "tough love."

The doctor has told us that we are overweight and it's going to require a long and committed effort to correct the problem rather than an overnight pill. I wonder if we—the people of this planet—have the gumption to take on this unavoidable and enduring challenge.

Let the Weening Begin

2008-07-19T16:03:00.003-06:00

Transportation Cost
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The word is out that the price of oil is going down thanks to the reduced demand by we Americans. Of course I noticed it is still sitting at $4.27 per gallon as I rode my bike past the petrol station today. Tomorrow or the next day, perhaps the drop in oil prices will finally start to reflect at the local gas pumps. But, you know what? I could care.

I'm going to keep right on riding that old bicycle all over town even when gas is down to under $2 per gallon (not that I think such will really happen)—even after the snow begins to fly again.

Too bad all of us can't—and more sadly, won't adopt such self-imposed behavior. If so we could have the oil companies right where we want them—over a barrel—rather than them having us right where they want us.

I wish there would never be a need again to fire up my gasoline-powered pick-up, but there will be days I'll need it. Nevertheless every time I have to carry or haul something, I'm always going to ask myself, "Can you carry it on your bike instead, even if it means multiple trips?" I suspect the answer will be "yes" on most occasions.

And when I need to trek around in the McCullouch Peaks as I often do, the bike is going to be in the truck's bed and I'll be riding over the dirt roads via my human-powered two-wheeler. I'll just use the pick-up to get me to the general location I desire.

Given how the oil companies have treated us and profited—not to mention the carbon emissions produced, I don't care how cheap gas ends up.

Let the weening of oil begin.

And while you're at it, consider this little gem of an article as well.

Watered Down 4th of July Tributes

2008-07-07T22:23:00.001-06:00

Orange & Wet
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I've been on a glorified hitch-hiking trip since June 23 with a truck driver documenting the truck driving life. Chris, the driver I speak of, wears a cowboy hat, listens to NPR and and loves NASCAR—go ahead, try to fit this guy to any given stereotype. It ain't happening. Nevertheless, that's another story for another day.

While delivering a truck load of goods with Chris over the Fourth of July weekend, we tuned in to Sirius Radio's NASCAR show "Tradin' Paint" somewhere in West Virginia. In their tribute to America on the Fourth, hosts Steve Post and Danny "Chocolate" Myers along with the various NASCAR personalities interviewed went on and on about how the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan are over there doing such a great job preserving our wide-ranging freedoms including our freedom of speech.

Not to diminish the radio show itself, but I found its attempt to pay tribute to America on that particular day to be rather banal—in other words, a bunch of George Bush party line bullshit.

Not that I don't support the troops, I simply don't buy that particular line about preserving our freedoms via these psuedo-wars in Iraq or Afghanistan. When Adolf Hitler was banging down everyone's door back in the '30s and '40s, I believe our troops engaging the Nazis preserved our freedoms. But it's a real stretch to think that Saddam Hussein or a ragtag group of terrorists running around in Afghanistan or Pakistan are (or were) threatening my freedom or anyone else in this great land. We should only be using our troops to strike down Osama bin Laden and then call it "Mission Accomplished." There's no war to be lost or won over there, just a rat or two that needs to be greased. I feel better about saying that the troops we have in Germany and Korea are preserving our freedoms than those in Iraq and Afghanistan.

In short, I don't believe our assorted freedoms are any safer today than they were before we invaded Iraq or Afghanistan nor are they any safer than before or after September 11, 2001, or Oklahoma City in April of 1995. Whatever freedoms we have lost—or feel we have lost—are the result of our own elected leaders and the paranoia they have instilled in us.

Death of a Neighborhood Icon

2008-06-12T21:43:00.001-06:00

There Goes The Neighborhood
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

An icon in my hometown was lost today. The massive cottonwood tree that towered over the 300 block of North Bent Street, on the west side of the road was destroyed... chopped down, demolished, or killed however you want to state it.

Certainly this tree was one of the larger ones in town yet I'm confident it had a few good years remaining in its gargantuan status. It seems possible that the old tree was establishing itself around the time when this town was starting to sprout from its badlands foundation.

All the same, it no longer is.

Even in its splendor, apparently it was not worthy enough to stay put, rather it was eradicated (are you ready for this?) to make way for a new parking lot. If there's any saving grace in such destruction it is to know that it was sacrificed for a church parking lot. Nevertheless, that hardly makes its demise lighter.

I don't know if there is any respectable way to bring down an old, stately tree. Is taking it down one limb at a time better than bringing in heavy equipment (as was the case today) and simply busting off the limbs in reckless fashion? I don't know. My hunch is that a small team of climbers with chain saws and a methodic approach would have been more respectful to the tree and universe than bringing in the heavy guns and taking it down quickly. I believe that if a tree becomes as colossal as this one was, it should come down under nature's laws—not ours. It feels as though we just killed the Dali Lama rather than Saddam Hussein.

Just the other day, the house that was on the same lot, was gingerly carried away and placed a couple blocks up the street to begin a second residence. Too bad the tree couldn't have been included. If anything, the tree was more worthy of saving than the house that sat underneath the giant cottonwood's branches all of these years.

As I was photographing the dismantled poplar, I overheard one of the children in the house next door say that it seemed weird now that the tree was gone. He didn't say anything about the relocated house.

Another Cracker for Obama

2008-05-16T10:21:00.005-06:00

FloatingDuckies
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

John Edwards I am not—not even a super delegate, but I think it's high time that I announced my support for Barrack Obama as he seeks to become the 44th President of the United States. Surely anyone who knows me is not all that surprised. Nevertheless, I think the Democratic party is approaching critical mass and I just want to do my part to bring us all together before we go by the way of Darth Vader's Death Star.

And isn't Hillary starting to resemble Rocky Balboa in the those final rounds when he's too stubborn to go down for his own good?

I reckon there is George Bush to thank regarding my decision to back Obama as things can't get any worse—a quagmired war, a sinking economy and out-of-sight gas prices. Undoubtedly the three remaining candidates still in the running (and even those that have withdrawn) would improve things in Washington, across our country and around the world when juxtaposed with George and his low-brow administration. For the most part I should feel pretty good when I awaken on November 5 and learn of the election results. And there we have it folks, the legacy of George Bush—the guy who managed to run the country so far into the ground that the next guy/gal can't help but look good when they step into the Oval Office on Day One.

But Obama personifies that old adage that goes something like, "desperate times call for desperate measures." Basically, we can't afford not to pull out all of the stops, allowing this shipwreck to turn itself around and prevent it from going over the falls. And Obama is the only one who is really talking about giving Washington and the country a true "makeover" that it so desperately needs.

Perhaps he's not strong in foreign policy, but I know he's smart enough to get the right people on his staff to make up for any deficiency. The same goes for any other areas of inexperience. Stop and think about it, everyone has a soft spot when it comes to running the country and providing any given President is intelligent enough, wouldn't they all surround themselves with the right people to shore up anything that's lacking... unless of course they were George W. Bush?

Further, I think a guy like Obama is more of a uniter; certainly not the divider that defines Dubya's reign. Nevertheless, I suppose the loyal White supremist around the country won't feel like joining the party, but they're freaks anyway based on their tainted education (or lack thereof). Who needs 'em?

Yet, as long as I'm here, it has been interesting over the past couple of weeks (since the West Virginia primary), to hear about Obama's "lack of appeal" when it comes to uneducated, White, working-class men and how "he needs to address this problem" and "retool his message" if he expects to get their votes. Hearing the media dance around this little issue, I just kept thinking to myself, "Obama doesn't have a problem appealing to uneducated, White, working class men, they have a problem with him being African American."

In my days of working with this particular demographic, I heard that n-word (containing the two "g's") used more prolifically than any other time in my life—by far. Disclaimer statement: Of course, this isn't to say that all of those whom fit this particular profile harbor such views. Far be it for me to stereotype my own kind!

Finally, this week, Kevin Merida, a reporter for the Washington Post, looked this demon straight in the eye that includes some not-so-surprising remarks from West Virginia's finest voters. Listen for yourself.

Should Obama get the nod from the Democrats, but lose the general election to tired-old-White-man McCain, I'll surely have my doubts that the better candidate won, but more troubling will be whether or not I believe America—in its heart—voted for the best candidate.

Gasoline: The Real Price of Freedom?

2008-05-07T13:41:00.004-06:00

Iowa Junction
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I'm awake at 2:28 a.m.—thinking about the semester coming to a close and George Bush's ideas of freedom.

It's an exciting time of the year. The school year draws to another close and it doesn't really matter if I get a good night's sleep or not. Classes are over and only exams remain.

If the calendar year were reduced to a week, it would be Friday at 4:00 p.m. right now. The full weekend is in front of me.

With the promise of summer's frolic ahead, I wonder about frolic's key ingredient—freedom. Where's my freedom as I consider the greatest symbol of freedom in the United States as the automobile, which now requires $3.50-plus per gallon to send me on my way to "freedom?" Who can afford that kind of freedom except the well-off, the privileged, the elite, the established and the upper crust of our society—basic code talk for rich White folks?

According to what I paid for petrol one year ago today, it now cost me 20 percent more to fill up my gas tank today—just in one year. My take home salary doesn't reflect the rising cost of fuel.

I don't know, maybe it's just me, but could a sitting president affect the price of gasoline during his/her office? Given George W. Bush is from an oil family, I doubt there's anyone that can honestly and without some form of shame say that he has nothing to do with the outrageous increase in gas prices.

Regular gas prices during the Clinton years:
1993: $1.10/gal
1994: $1.11/gal
1995: $1.14/gal
1996: $1.23/gal
1997: $1.23/gal
1998: $1.05/gal
1999: $1.16/gal
2000: $1.51/gal

Increased by 1.37 times from the time he started office until he ended

Regular gas prices during the Bush years:
2001: $1.46/gal
2002: $1.35/gal
2003: $1.59/gal
2004: $1.88/gal
2005: $2.27/gal
2006: $2.58/gal
2007: $2.81/gal
2008: $3.xx/gal

Increased by 2.39 times from the time he started office until he ended

What I do know is that my definition of "freedom" is becoming more and more "confined." There's a new oxymoron: "confined freedom." At one time, I considered my freedom to include the entire West and sometimes beyond. Now, it's only the county I call home and occasionally the surrounding Big Horn Basin of Wyoming and parts of Montana. If the strangle hold of high gas prices continues, my true freedom will be whittled down to the distance I can cover on my bicycle and my imagination's ability when reading a good book.

Perhaps I have it wrong. Freedom has nothing to do with how far you can go in your car—perhaps that is just an aging form of American decadence. For example, how do the "free" people of Germany do it—their gas prices translate to $8.63/gallon?

As a side note: Regarding Hillary Clinton and John McCain's proposal for a national gas tax holiday... I thought it was interesting when ABC News' George Stephanopolis (once a White House aid to her husband) asked Hillary Clinton to name one credible economist who sided with her and McCain on the summer gas tax suspension, she said everything but a name. Good question George.

Who Cares for the Little People?

2008-05-06T15:07:00.004-06:00

Muddified Water
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Listening to the reports coming in from the cyclone-ravaged Irrawatty Delta of Myanmar (Burma), I couldn't help but think of Hurricane Katrina and New Orleans. In fact, based on the stories posted thus far, with the exception of the higher number of deaths, it sounds like the same people are running the show (or not running the show) in Myanmar as those in New Orleans. Already, complaints of little or no government action/reaction to the event have surfaced, and those affected, displaced or killed are those that are the poorest of the poor—just like New Orleans.

Myanmar and The United States... I thought these two countries were worlds apart, but not so when it comes to taking care of their own poor.

The Fallacy of Calendars & Weather

2008-05-03T12:35:00.002-06:00

May Snow
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Yesterday was May 1 and as I made my way for the door, I started to reach for my gloves considering the blustery day that awaited, but than caught myself and decided that with May's arrival, I would go without gloves until they were required again—sometime in the distant October.

This morning I awoke to a wet two-inches of snow on the ground and what appears to be a punishing Wyoming wind. What am I to make of that—nature sticking it back in my face, further proof that I'm really not that intelligent?

So many times over the years—usually in April—I tell someone how, almost without fail, we will have at least one snow fall in May, and sometimes after graduation and its exodus of students from the campus. I'm always amused by that scenario where summer recess is here and it's still snowing.

We're still a week away from graduation.

Barrasso's World of Coal

2008-05-01T15:28:00.002-06:00

Good Things2Life
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Wyoming Senator John Barrasso is definitely looking out for Wyoming—especially the Wyoming coal industry. In his electronic newsletter dated April 22, Barrasso writes a pro-coal piece that reads like a promotional brochure from one of the coal companies in the voice of a Barbara Cubin-esque high school cheerleader. Perhaps a few of his buddies in Campbell County sent him the coal-is-wholesome copy in an overstuffed briefcase full of "campaign donations."

In his opening paragraph, the good senator argues that "coal should never become a stranded asset." Yet he says nothing of Wyoming's unlimited energy assets found in its relentless wind and the excessive tally of solar-enriched days—much more prolific than old-school coal.

But wait, there's more. He argues that "complete substitutes to coal have often proven to be unsuitable, insufficient, or too costly to power America's homes and businesses." Did I miss something? "Complete substitutes?" When or where did we carry out this experiment? Undoubtedly he would have said the same kind of thing back in the early 1900s when the Wright Brothers were fooling around on the beach at Kitty Hawk. Let's not get Barrasso mixed up with innovative thinking.

And if it's not enough to use coal to provide our electricity, Barrasso proposes that it should be used to produce gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel. Great, let's burn even more of this filthy fuel source—screw the planet and everyone that lives on it as long as there will be plenty of good jobs in Wyoming for years to come.

Barrasso resorts to a few Dubya scare tactics as well when he attributes a lack of coal use with power outages saying, "Blackouts across the Northeast in August of 2003 should have sounded a warning." Well John, the warning translates to this: Hey America, stop carrying on like the greedy and self-centered mega-consumers that you've been for all these years. It's time to pay the piper.

Perhaps what's most laughable about Barrasso's pep talk for coal is he proposes that coal is the answer to an antiquated infrastructure, "But, America has an aging energy infrastructure—from pipelines to transmission. Energy policies warrant a more comprehensive review and far-reaching solution. Coal can, and must, be an important contribution to that solution." OK, let me get this right... the solution to an aging energy infrastructure is to fix it with an energy source from the Dark Ages?

Barrasso attempts to show us his "green side" as well. "Even if policymakers chose to mandate a reduction in carbon dioxide," he states, "America cannot afford to close the door on coal." It's hard to argue his point here, especially if America continues to sit on its fat ass and do little to nothing about real alternative and renewable energy solutions.

Finally the Wyoming Senator concludes in saying, "America cannot abandon our nation's most abundant, affordable, and secure energy resource." Brilliant, just brilliant. He would have said the same thing about horses when a guy named Henry Ford was tinkering around with something called the horseless carriage.

P.S.: Here's a semi-related question to consider on the carbon capture technologies discussion. They want to capture carbon dioxide and store it underground—for how long? Forever? Even radioactive material breaks down to a harmless substance after enough time passes. Does carbon dioxide stored away for a long period of time magically transform back into oxygen?

Torture: "Just Say No" or "Just Do It"

2008-04-03T15:40:00.003-06:00

Wabi-Sabi Bits
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I was having a little lie-down on the front porch the other day and suddenly found myself drawn into the nearly-silenced radio and a debate going on about the harsh interrogations that has been employed by our country—i.e., torture. And it just wasn't any old debate between radio talk show hosts, rather this was between a panel of six esteemed thinkers on the topic and its related areas.

Torture is something I've never believed in because it is a detour from the moral high road—no matter the conflict. Yet, I've never given it much thought or expressed my disapproval. But this debate changed all of that. In particular the comments from one of the panelist whom I'd never heard of until that day—Darius Rejali, Professor of Political Science at Reed College in Portland, Oregon.

Rejali's brief closing comments solidified my anti-torture thoughts when he stated the following:

"Is it better to be loved or feared? Loved or feared? The correct answer is: If you can fight with one hand tied behind your back and win, you will be loved and feared. And that's the American way. If you want to be merely loved, you will be despised and if you really want to be feared, you will be despised."

In the comments from the panelist who opposed Professor Rejali and his two colleagues, there was a consistent reference to the severe conviction, commitment and determination possessed by today’s enemy—"something we've never seen before." I don’t doubt this intensity found in these militants, yet I wondered about my father who served during World War II and the Korean War. Did he think the Japanese were less convicted, determined, or committed in their cause than our so-called enemy of “Muslim extremist” our forces face today? And, didn’t we fight that war (somewhat) with that one hand tied behind our back?

Here is the link to the debate. I dare you to listen in.

Fantasy: Sticking It to the Oil Man

2008-03-07T11:10:00.004-07:00

Turbine Alley
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

America wants more oil and they want it cheaper. So what, who doesn't?

The other day I heard that Washington has been pressuring OPEC (The Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries) to open up the spigot a bit more with the hopes of lowering the prices at the pump and easing the pressures on the U.S. economy.

OPEC's response (which undoubtedly represents that of the oil companies as well) was there was no need to pump more oil and that the run-up in prices is due to investor's dim speculations in the market and not fundamental problems regarding supply.

That last part is certainly true. When was the last time you heard of a gasoline station running out of gas?

Nevertheless, here's what I think OPEC was saying in between the lines, "We're not going to increase the supply because the price of petrol will go down and then we can't make as much money. So, as long as you stupid Americans maintain your unquenchable thirst for gasoline, you can stick it where the sun never shines."

And since we can't control our own gluttonous consumption of oil, perhaps what this country—and more importantly—OPEC and the oil companies need is a good little depression that results in a radical drop in the demand of petroleum. Perhaps a little anarchy will follow in a select number of places adding a bit of well-needed humility here in "The Land of the Free (only free in the distance we can ride our bicycle) and the Home of the Brave (i.e., the self-serving, greedy capitalist)."

And maybe, just maybe after all of that, we'll finally get serious about alternative energy sources like wind, solar and tidal power.

Shooting Down John McCain One More Time

2008-03-04T15:26:00.008-07:00

Sun Over KC-97
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I'd vote for John McCain anyday... over George W. Bush that is. However, given the other choices currently available, I feel pretty safe in saying that he won't be getting my vote.

I know everyone used to talk about how "wooden" Al Gore appeared, but check out this video of McCain... you can almost see the strings that are controlling his arms and eye lids. Do you suppose his nose will grow too?

And what's with his eyeballs? He blinks about four times more than his cronies in the video.

As long as I'm at it, what the hell is going on with McCain's use of the phrase "my friends?!" Talk about beating a dead horse. Sometimes when I hear his voice on the radio, it's like Fred Rogers has come back to life as a politician rather than a kid show host.

Perhaps he should consider running for mayor of Mr. Rogers' neighborhood instead.

Exxon's 19-Year Stench

2008-02-27T17:14:00.002-07:00

Clean Energy Residue
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

As oil prices hover at a record $100 per barrel and we dish out over $3.00 per gallon at the pump, I found myself sick with sarcasm to hear this morning that after 19 years since the tragedy of the Exxon Valdez, Exxon is still resisting court orders to pay a modest $2.5 billion in punitive damages.

Exxon claims they have paid out enough. They've spent money attempting to clean up their mess... as they should. Yet, they do not believe they should be punished for allowing an employee with a colourful alcoholic history to return to the helm of a giant tanker resulting in over 11 million gallons of crude oil, spread across 600 linear miles — larger than the distance between Washington, D.C., and Atlanta. Their defense, they didn't profit from that incident. But what of the continued activity? They still profit highly from that, do they not?

And to think, this is the same company that boasted of record profits in 2007—$40.6 billion. And their squawking about paying an additional $2.5 billion. What really gets me is that our society simply sits back and lets it all unfold in front of us—doing nothing about it. Just saying, "Hmmmm."

When will the people take this country back? When will the people declare a boycott on the oil companies—where no one purchases gasoline for an entire week? Imagine pulling that off a couple times per year.

Oh, how I hope to see the day that the oil companies of Exxon, Chevron, Shell go by way of the old typewriter manufacturers named Underwood, Royal and Remington.

Hands Over Our Hearts and Other Thoughts

2008-02-25T11:19:00.008-07:00

Anthem Singers
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

When attending grade school in Akron, Ohio, we learned to place our hand over our heart when reciting the Pledge of Alliegence and if you were wearing a hat, you took it off and placed it over your heart during the National Anthem. I don't recall any instruction, about placing your hand over your heart during the National Anthem nor do I recall observing anyone participating in that manner.

When I attend various sporting events now, I always see people with their hands over their hearts during the National Anthem. When did that start happening? Was Akron, Ohio somehow different than Wyoming or Montana during the 1960s?

• • •

While travelling down the highway the other day between Cody and Greybull, a Cadillac Escalade (a luxury pickup truck) passed me. Watching the rig grow smaller on the horizon, I considered a visit from the grave with a soldier or sailor who died during World War II. In telling this soul about how the world has changed since they left, I considered Christopher Lloyd's astonished and disbelieving reaction as the wacky professor in Back to the Future when McFly tells him that Ronald Reagan will become the future President of the United States. Surely this 1940s-esque American would be just as surprised to know that Cadillac is now the maker of a pickup truck.

When did utility and luxury become lovers?

• • •

A friend was recently telling me about how often he heard Coyotes howl in the night when he lived in Eastern Washington—at least once a week he said. I was thinking about his observations and realized that although I live in Wyoming, I can't remember the last time I heard a coyote's cry in the night air. What's wrong with that picture?

• • •

From Sarah Vowell's book The Partly Cloudy Patriot

If Newsweek's Jonathan Alter is correct, Bush's jockish disdain for highbrow thought is the very origin of his White House bid. "In a 1998 New Yorker piece (about Al Gore)," Alter claims, "the vice president talked about the ideas of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, a French existentialist. Bush read the article, and later told friends it was one of the reasons he ran for president—to keep intellectual pretentiousness out of the White House." In his campaign, Bush promised to restore honor and dignity to the White House, but the promise to keep intellectual pretentiousness out is one that is likely to be kept.

Blinding Ponies

2008-02-15T11:52:00.002-07:00

Net Ball Action
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Like Grant Gifford of the Northwest College Trail Newspaper, I too was amazed to watch the deficiency of sportsmanship in the basketball game between the Lady Trappers of NWC and the women of Little Big Horn College. But from my vantage, I'm not as quick to lump all the blame on the visitors from Crow Agency as Mr. Gifford did in his brief and shallow editorial—indeed, I thought it was a two-way street.

The young woman from LBHC who was ejected from the game certainly had it coming, but the struggle/skirmish resulting from a loose ball between her and NWC's Ashley Buckner wasn't as one-sided as the writer made it out to be; and talking with other Trapper fans about it, I wasn't the only one who saw it that way. Simply put, both players should have been ejected for the incident. As they say, it takes two to tango (or tangle).

Admittedly I wasn't in attendance when LBHC coach Dominic Gaglia was called for a technical, but coaches drawing technical fouls for remarks directed toward the referees during a basketball game are hardly uncommon. As for Coach Gaglia's inaction following the conflict on the hardwood that lead to his player's ejection; could it have been that he felt frustrated with his team's performance and attitude, slighted by the referees, or was he simply displaying his coaching "style" like that of the stone-faced Tom Landry? Did Mr. Gifford talk to the coach after the game to verify his accusations? I mean, that's what a journalist would do, right... interview coaches after the games?

I'll confess that I'm not a basketball expert, but I do know a thing or two about sportsmanship. So, as long as we're making a critique on sportsmanship, I'd like to point out a "blown call" made by the home team as well.

Having dressed only six players for their game (and we don't know the true reason for this, do we Mr. Gifford?), it seems the Little Bighorn College Lady Rams never had a chance. I suspect the only time the game was close was the opening minutes of the game. So, it's safe to say, the game's outcome was probably never in doubt.

With a dark cloud over the game following the ejection, LBHC battled the Lady Trappers with only five players—and no bench. Then, early in the second half, one of the remaining five players for LBHC fouled out, giving NWC a "power-play" advantage of five-on-four—something that is common in hockey, but not in basketball. (At that point I was reminded of the book, Blind Your Ponies by Stanley G. West. Read it.)

And maybe it's just me, but I was a bit surprised that—up by over 20 points and facing a team with only four players who were no better than any one of their own—NWC didn't make it an even fight and stand down one of their players to the side court. What a classy gesture this would have been. No doubt applause would have followed from everyone in the crowd and perhaps cleaned up some of the bad blood between the two teams from the first-half skirmish. But NWC chose to keep all five players in the game, and to add insult to injury, maintained a rotation of "fresh horses" as the LBHC team dragged on.

I'd have understood our team's decision to keep all five players in the game if it were early in the season when playing time is critical, but this late in the season and with little at stake, it seems logical for a display of good sportsmanship to trump over pummeling one's opponent—for a change.

Perhaps I expect too much.

As their lead increased, the Lady Trappers were hardly illustrations of good sportsmanship themselves. You'd think they were losing the game in the demonstrations they put up when they thought they had been fouled (and probably were) or were called for a foul that wasn't all that obvious.

Lastly, the NWC advantage of five-on-four wasn't very impressive or overpowering, and I found myself cheering for the feisty, understaffed, and outgunned Lady Rams as they battled against a superior NWC team. With the exception of the score, such scenarios are hardly favorable for any team in the same position as NWC. Should they blow-out their outnumbered opponent, it comes across as running up the score, and if they don't succeed in blowing them out... well, everyone might wonder how they even won the game. The only respectable thing to do then (especially if the score is lopsided) is to keep the player numbers even.

In closing, perhaps the LBHC team didn't secure any votes in the good sportsmanship department that night, but the Lady Trapper basketball team also failed to recognize or simply ignored a unique opportunity to raise the bar of good sportsmanship.

Made In China

2008-01-31T11:38:00.001-07:00

Old Meets New
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

October 7, 2005

Last night I threw out my old house slippers that my wife had purchased for me the last time she was in Christchurch. As I carried them out to the alley where the dumpster awaits, I considered the stars above and the thousands of miles the slippers had travelled (not necessarily with my feet in them). After making the glorious journey from New Zealand to Wyoming, they would simply return to the earth via the Powell Landfill. I felt they should be sealed up and shipped back to Christchurch where someone could depose of them in a more respectful manner; much like the remains of a foreign national who is returned to their home country for burial.

I looked at the shoes one more time. The tags on the inside were very worn, but I could plainly read, "Made in China." Hmmm. Still, so far away but, their mysterious appeal and existence seemed to suddenly fade when I considered all the things around me that are made in China. Undoubtedly the slippers will feel right at home in the Powell Landfill.

Uneventful Bliss

2008-01-20T18:42:00.001-07:00

Fading Footsteps
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

A little after 5:00 this morning my 14-year-old cat, Schnebley, could be heard crying from behind the two doors that separate us from him—the kitchen door and our bedroom door. Before I heard the cat, my ears detected wind chimes clanging somewhere in the early morning darkness signaling a winter storm was undoubtedly making for a miserable morning. Forgetting my slippers, I climbed out of the warm bed to see about him; probably hungry was my guess. As it turned out, I'm not sure what he really needed. He ate a bit, but if I had to guess I'd say he was simply starving for attention. He's a bit fussy about everything. If given the gift of speech, I reckon there would still be times he couldn't articulate his needs.

Although I was up and about early for a Sunday morning, my wife and her two daughters would be rising soon as well—off to the second part of their two-day swim meet at the local high school. So, rather than go back to bed after seeing about Schnebley, I put on some coffee and half-listened to The California Commonwealth Club on the radio with the cat while folding towels from the dryer that were destined for the swim meet. I rather enjoy listening to the CCC, but I rarely get the opportunity as it is only broadcast on my local NPR station Sunday mornings at 5:00 a.m.

In other news on the day, I learned we are officially one year away from inaugurating a new President. Yesterday Hillary Clinton defeated Barrack Obama in the Nevada democratic caucus while Mitt Romney won the Republican version of the same race. Back in South Carolina, John McCain was victorious in the Republican primary there. Alas, I'd vote for any of them over George W. Bush—anyday.

The Patriots of New England are hosting the San Diego Chargers in the AFC title game while the Green Bay Packers are giving the New York Giants a tour of the frozen tundra at Lambeau Field. Who cares? Despite the millions that do care, as I see, they all deserve the bitterest and coldest weather given the NFL's insistence on playing in January and thus squatting on the hockey and basketball seasons.

Meanwhile in Mississippi, it snowed nearly three inches, but the ground is too warm there for snow to accumulate. I gaze out our frosty window considering Mississippi's dreadful snow scenario. That never happens here in Wyoming. Our best hope is that it comes down sideways fast enough that it eventually blows off to Nebraska or South Dakota, but the single-digit cold temperatures always linger.

My feet have grown cold and I'm determined not to retrieve my slippers from the bedroom for fear of disturbing my wife's precious sleep. So, I wait until she is awake. Rather than turn up the furnace while everyone sleeps, I sometimes turn on the kitchen stove—with the doors closed to the small space, it warms up nicely on cold January mornings in Wyoming like today.

The cat continues to vocalize whatever it is that concerns him. And as if it's the most important thing in my day, I direct my full attention to him—like a doctor attempting to solve a patient's problem. I remind myself of a retired, senior citizen at home shuffling about the kitchen while addressing my cat.

Tomorrow is Martin Luther King, Jr. day—a holiday. I have another day to feel as though my only worries are the everyday un-events around this house.

4 McCullough Haikus for Benazir

2007-12-31T10:52:00.001-07:00

Winter Tracks
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

This Time
In each visit here,
defined by worldly events,
Benazir Bhutto.

Wrath
Wrath of the wind cuts,
another leader goes down.
Barren dirt and drifts.

A World Away
News from Pakistan,
events from a world away.
Knifing cold here too.

Givens
Drama in the light
Isolation as always
Wind, cold are given.

Technology's promise and reality

2007-12-07T11:58:00.001-07:00

Storm Over Tower
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Laying in bed at the end of the day back in the late 60s, I was often restless as I considered the future and my life ahead. The space program was approaching its pinnacle as our country prepared for its first moon landing. From there, the possibilities seemed beyond my imagination. The future—in my mind, beyond the year 2000—seemed so cool and even though I knew I'd be in my 40s, I was excited and couldn't wait for it to arrive.

Here I am now in the year 2007 with a different kind of restlessness—the kind that doesn't keep me from going to sleep, but the kind that awakens me in the middle of the night. What makes me restless on this particular early morning at 4:00 a.m.—ideas, upcoming projects, caffeine, athletes foot?

Looking back on those restless nights as a kid, it's somewhat disappointing when comparing my ideas of what the future would be like and what it has actually become. Sure there are some things that are pretty slick and are the result of our advancing technology—the cell phone, personal computer and the internet come to mind. However, when I consider how all of these high-tech gadgets are used (or should I say "misused?), that kid's excitement for tomorrow is nowhere to be found. I suppose in my youthful mind I pictured us being a bit more responsible or meaningful in the employment of whatever new technologies that came into play. Had I considered cell phones, I would have seen such calls as legitimate or important rather than the multitude of unimaginative, distracting and dumbed-down calls that are made... "Whacha' doing? Where are you? I'm standing in the isle at Wal-Mart, which margarine should I buy?"

I'm reminded of Springsteen's latest song Radio Nowhere.

I was tryin' to find my way home
But all I heard was a drone
Bouncing off a satellite
Crushin' the last lone American night
This is radio nowhere, is there anybody alive out there?

At 9-years-old and watching Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon, I anticipated that by the time I was, say 47, trips to the moon would be common—even routine. As it turns out, it's still difficult to get there and back. And now that the momentum of the Apollo program has been lost to a program limited to earth orbit, returning to the moon will be like starting all over again.

Perhaps returning to the moon will be more challenging now, given all the new complications that are part of today's intricate technologies. If that turns out to be true, the second part of this saga might be just as exciting for today's 9-year-old kids as it was in the 60s.

For now, let's rename the 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey to 3001: A Space Odyssey. Maybe when 3001 finally comes around, Arthur C. Clarke's work will be a bit more accurate of our world then.

Boxing Day & White Rabbits

2007-12-01T15:26:00.001-07:00

Murchinson Field
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

December 1 has arrived feeling more like December 22—the first day of winter. It's a Saturday and the girls are away for a swim meet in Worland leaving the cat and I to fend for ourselves.

At about 6:30 this morning, I hit my wife with "white rabbits"—an old English custom that grants you a month's worth of good luck if you are the first to say "white rabbits" on the first day of the month. That's three months running I've beat her to it.

Honestly, I'd never heard of "white rabbits" until I met my wife. She introduced it to me from her youth growing up in the Solomon Islands and New Zealand.

Depending on who you talk to, this silly superstition has been around for a long time—perhaps as far back as the 1400s and there appears to be a number of variations on this first-of-the-month ritual. In our household, we probably conform to the following definition from Wikipedia:

Traditions also extend to saying on the first of each month: “A pinch and a punch for the first day of the month; white rabbit!” White rabbit is declared to be the “no returns” policy on the “pinch and the punch” the receiver felt. Origins of this saying is unknown. A small concession exists, for recipients of the "pinch and a punch," where white rabbit declaration (no returns) is not made. Recipients may in this case reply with "A flick and a kick for being so quick."

Later on I was musing about how there aren't many customs or celebrations that we (Americans) observe with a dominant English tradition behind them, and I'm not counting St. Patrick's Day either. If anything, our celebrations seem to be slanted toward ridding ourselves of our British connections even though English is the dominant (dare I say "national") language here in the U.S. We're so reluctant to have anything to do with the English that we don't even acknowledge something as wonderful as Boxing Day—typically December 26 (a holiday that would give us two days off work, maybe three if one doesn't have to work Christmas Eve). For those unfamiliar, Boxing Day is an English public holiday celebrated on the first weekday after Christmas Day. It appeared sometime in the 19th Century from a custom of giving tradespeople a Christmas box on this day.

Of course, we have our own dictionary of "American" English and our version of rugby has transformed into gridiron football while we devised a game called baseball from cricket.

Most of the other countries around the globe that were once tied to England
still remain somewhat "connected" as they recognize the Oxford Dictionary, Boxing Day and a few other selected English establishments. But here in America we have been so bent on being independent, unique, and doing things "our way" for all these years it's understandable how those outside of the United States see us as isolationist and arrogant—to name a few.

Perhaps we would do well in the global community if we were to adopt Boxing Day (and its original intentions) as an official holiday. Harmless as it seems, it could be just the PR stunt the doctor ordered to give our image a much needed boost throughout the world starting with the assortment of English-based nations.

A Thanksgiving Lent

2007-11-25T13:32:00.001-07:00

Good Banana Light
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Perhaps it wasn't the most memorable Thanksgiving, but I will remember this year's installation for its cold, silence and my little post-holiday fast.

Usually by this time in the year, we've been hit by several samples of winter weather, but today's temperatures that never made it beyond 30 degrees were the first of the year. A mild autumn/winter thus far—never mind global warming. While out for a walk, I'm confident that it was probably in the lower 20s—almost a biting cold. But the sun was bright and low in the south as if it was following the contour of the McCullough Peaks. I considered how cold it would be that night once the sun's rays were long gone and of the wild animals that live in this area of the country and wondered how they do it.

During my Thanksgiving Day walk, I found the outdoors unusually quiet in the form of less activity and fewer cars on the roads. Beyond the hustle and bustle of the home where the holiday meal takes place, the world seemed hauntingly quiet. I tried to imagine it as being any other day. Blindfolded and removed from any calendar, I would still sense it was a holiday by the day's silence.

When 8:30 in the evening rolled around and after eating a gummy worm, I decided to go on a 24-hour fast. I'd been thinking about it for most of the week and after hearing a story on the radio the other day about fasting, I was ready to carry on with the project. And what better time to start than after the big Thanksgiving Day meal?

By 10:00 a.m. the next day and more than 12 hours into the fast, I felt OK. I was ready to eat breakfast, but it was just water until 8:30 that night. At first I thought I'd catch myself looking at the clock and thinking about food all the time, so I went about to occupy myself as much as possible and away from the kitchen was my plan.

I spent a good portion of the early afternoon at school and although the building was cooler than usual because there was no school, I was extremely cold the entire time. Nevertheless, it was a cold day—20s maybe, so it's hard to tell if my reaction was related to the fast or just my non-conditioning to the year's first cold weather.

By 4:28 p.m. the presence of hunger was constant, but four hours remaining didn't seem too far away. A nagging headache moved in, but I wasn't so sure it was fast related as I had just started wearing a new pair of glasses on Wednesday and was far from accustomed to the new lenses.

I purposely occupied myself with one of my cameras and some outdated Polaroid film. At that point, I caught myself mulling around in the kitchen as if I was going to eat something. This was a poignant reminder about how we open the refrigerator not because we are hungry, but only because we are bored—I felt both tugging at me. I wondered if my sense of creative venture was dwindling as a result of fasting—certainly my enthusiasm for expending energy had retreated and even sitting in front of the computer was challenging.

In those last four hours I was far from feeling upbeat. If not fasting, I would have surmised that I was getting sick. It seemed I was hitting "the wall" in my deprived digestive marathon. My thermostat seemed to be out of whack and by 5:30, I found myself worthless. A sense of nausea came over me and about all I could do was lay down. By 6:00 I was in bed and trying to ride out the last two and a half hours. That's about all I could do. The headache was massive—migraine-like.

I'd like to think that by the time 8:30 rolled around, I leisurely made my way to the kitchen, but it was pretty direct and purposeful when I climbed out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Tanya had a meal of cut-up steak and rice with some vegis waiting in the microwave. By 8:40, food was entering my system again. I ate as slowly as I could and drank a bit in between bites.

I was in bed by 10:00, but up again to eat an orange around 11:30.

With the fast nearly 20 hours behind me now, I can't say that the recovery time was that of a hangover, but there was some recovery time involved. I'd like to try this again and minimize the recovery by starting my fast following a normal meal rather than the a few gummy worms as a late evening treat.

Miraculously my clothes did not fall off of my frame and I'm still wondering if my pancreas is appreciative of the hiatus it experienced as reported in the story about fasting on the radio. There were no real expectations upon entering the fast, but I would have preferred a vision or some kind or epiphany over a stifling headache and nausea. Nevertheless, I did come away from it with a greater appreciation of food—simple and modest food such as rice, fruit, and a thin strip of beef rather than Doritos, Quarter Pounders with cheese and the litany of other processed foods we consume on a daily basis.

Strong Feelings About Weak Coffee

2007-11-08T14:18:00.001-07:00

Coffee Cup
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

In the wake of the coffee craze that has swept this country starting with its origins in Seattle (thanks to Starbucks), one would think that finding a good cup of strong coffee would be an automatic thing by now. Well, it isn't.

In a recent 900-mile-trip to Sunburst, Montana and back, I searched again for that elusive strong cup of coffee that might be found beyond the congested metropolitan communities and their perfectly-decorated, Martha Stewart, wi-fi, ain't-I-cool coffee houses (i.e., Starbucks and its many clones). I was sadly disappointed.

It's not like I'm a total coffee snob either. A little picky to be sure, but I'll settle for a strong cup of Folgers any day over a weak cup of gourmet-roasted brew.

All I can say is that the rural mini-mart/gas stations need to twig on when it comes to making a decent pot of coffee that doesn't rival dishwater that's about to be thrown out with only a hint of coffee flavor. Maverick stores seem to have it solved the problem, but they're not quite as numerous as the Conoco or Exxon mini-mart/gas stations scattered across Wyoming and Montana.

I'm guilty of taking on a cup of coffee in those places that are closer to home while never bothering to express my disappointment over a given low-grade cup that was served. I'm unsure which is sadder—to hurt someone's feelings because you weren't impressed with the coffee they served you or to have your feelings hurt because someone told you they didn't like your coffee. So, like everyone else, I just don't return or I'll order something else the next time I stop by. I suspect there are those out there that simply condition themselves to drink bad coffee as well. We're all guilty of that now and then—conditioning ourselves to drink or eat something that we know deep down is inferior; Bud Light and Cool Whip comes to mind.

I know it's not polite to tell someone that they just served you a crappy cup of coffee, but isn't it a bigger sin to give them the impression that their coffee is decent as they continue to serve others with the same terrible swill? Meanwhile everyone (you and I included) talks behind their back about how terrible their coffee is?

Man, it's just coffee!

Old Fruit and Autumn

2007-10-21T19:41:00.001-06:00

Wrinkled Crabs
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Sometimes I'll see a nice looking piece of fruit in a bowl, but when I pick it up and inspect it closer or go as far as to take a bite out of it, I realize it isn't very fresh. In fact, the overly ripe fruit is probably closer to rotten than it is fresh. That's the analogy that seems to apply to my life at this point in time. Don't get me wrong, at 47-years-old, I'm not writing myself off as rotten or dead, but I am getting pretty far along like that piece of fruit that's been passed over.

If life were condensed into the 12 months of the year, middle to late August is probably where one would find me. However, as I look at the world around me here in mid-October with the Wyoming autumn on the wane, I seem to relate to much of its imagery.

At first glance, most strangers probably think I'm in decent shape, but any feats of athletics from my youthful past are either impossible or dangerous if I were to try them now. The other day I looked at a wide open field and thought to myself how inviting it was to perform a series of back handsprings (i.e., flip-flops) across the soft turf as I used to twenty-some years ago. Considering the havoc it might wreak on my middle-aged wrists, back and ankles, I opted for a few simple cartwheels and called it good. Another twenty-some years from now, I'll probably have to settle for simply walking across that same field.

Midwest Midnight

2007-10-10T11:53:00.001-06:00

Goodyear's Badside
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The following was written for National Public Radio in response to their request (from listeners) to answer the following question: What music has changed your life?

Growing up in Akron, Ohio, working-class, rock-and-roll music seemed to find its way into nearly every home—ours was no exception. And while Dylan, Springsteen, and Mellencamp permeated the airwaves, the one song that stirred me to my soul (and still does to this day) was written and performed by a singer and band that fell just short of national stardom status—Midwest Midnight by The Michael Stanley Band.

Stanley once said that Midwest Midnight was, "...the most honest song I've ever written," and it was the first song that spoke to me about my hometown—or at least that part of the country that I called home. Stanley's anthem left me feeling that there was no denying who I was or where I was from—no matter where I chose to live following my high school graduation in 1978.

It's funny how one can know the words of a song by heart after all these years and still only possess a vague notion of the song's intended message—such is art. Today, the lyrics of Midwest Midnight are still abstract to me and at 47-years-old, I would have thought this little mystery would have been solved by now. Perhaps I really don't need to know what Stanley was trying to say because his song has woven its way into the fiber that defines me, which is understood, but not necessarily articulated.

Living in the wide-open spaces that straddle the Wyoming and Montana border, I consider myself a Westerner now. And while my taste in music has expanded exponentially over the years, every now and then my MP3 player will select Midwest Midnight in the shuffle mode and I'm instantly taken back to the world of Northeast Ohio—its overcast skies, industrial skylines and its proud, working-class ambience.

Excerpt from Midwest Midnight

With thirteen lovers I hid beneath the covers
got staples in my hands for my time
With the radio low so the folks don't know
I proceed with my passion of crime...
And though somewhat obtuse, I've been told this abuse
will more than likely make me go blind
But with a heart that's aching, it's a risk worth taking
'cause true love, they say, is so hard to find...

Why can't she see what she's doing to me
If that bandstand girl only was here
And I'm living the dream, getting lost on the screen,
doing Presley in front of the mirror...
And I'm hanging around, getting high on the sounds
of the ladies and electric guitars
Cross a double yellow line to who knows where
with six sets of glory a night in some bar...

(CHORUS:)
Midwest midnight
Ten thousand watts of holy light
from my radio so clear...
Bodies glistening, everybody's listening
as the man plays all the hits that you want to hear.

New Digs Morning

2007-10-08T13:48:00.001-06:00

Bed & Chair
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

My friend Ken just moved into a new home. He's 60-plus-years-old, so I know he's been through all of this before. He slept in his new place for the first time yesterday. I know that feeling—especially the awakening in the morning to the new setting. It's akin to being reborn. The strangeness of the new surroundings at first is momentarily adventurous, perhaps like waking in a new lover's bedroom for the first time.

Typically one is up late the night before getting the new bedrrom properly arranged, so by the time they go to bed and close their eyes, they really haven't spent much time looking at it. I suppose that's why it's so fresh and new the next morning.

This reformed awakening has a stange way of making one feel like they have a renewed lease on life—or at least it's a new chapter in their life. However, there is the downside to this unique sensation—the agonizing process of moving.

I think I'll rearrange my bedroom one of these nights, maybe I'll wake the next day with this same sensation.

Three McCullough Peaks Haikus

2007-09-30T15:18:00.001-06:00

McCullough Dusk
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

19 May 2007
Summer Storms
When summer storms dawn,
shelter is not or distant
in the McCulloughs

Southern Wind
Steady southern wind,
millions, billions, trillions now,
molecules of air.

Darkness Wins
Crescent moon tonight.
The abyss lies below me.
Darkness wins again.

Beyond High Gas Prices

2007-06-28T18:23:00.001-06:00

Ohio Turnpike Ticket
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Recently I completed a road trip of 1,880 miles from my home in Powell, Wyoming to my parents home in Akron, Ohio. The route of travel wasn't the most direct trip as past trips nor did I complete it in anything close to record time. So, it's safe to say that besides the $500-plus petrol expense, it was a relaxing road trip for the most part.

The trip involved some interstate, national and state highway travel. While the interstates were fast and direct, many of the secondary roads in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, for example, were slower and not as direct. Of course there was plenty of construction along the way and some stretches of road begging for construction—improved simply if the asphalt were ripped up and the surface returned to a graded dirt road.

Perhaps the worst section of road I travelled was a remote stretch of Minnesota's state route 210 winding through Jay Cooke State Park. Some of the bumps and holes in the asphalt made me think of roadside bombs in Iraq—and I was only traveling at 35 mph during much of this drive. Fortunately it was a scenic drive. Beyond SR210, I found the remainder of Minnesota's roads acceptable.

Although I've never traveled New Jersey's Turnpike, I've heard enough horror stories about it throughout my life—even in song. Yet after this recent trip, I'd be surprised to discover that the Ohio Turnpike isn't in the same league as New Jersey's famed ribbon of treacherous asphalt.

Trucks, trucks and more trucks… everywhere on the Ohio "Truckpike!" And many of them don't have time to hang out behind a leisure-driving vehicle from Wyoming. For good or bad, today's truck drivers represent the new cowboy in the 21st century. And if the semis breathing down your back don't give you a migraine, than the jarring potholes in the road and the road construction will. Twice I pulled over at one of the turnpike plazas and neither time did I need petrol or a toilet, I simply needed to dry off and calm down. When I finally exited the Buckeye State's turnpike, I felt payment was owed to me rather than paying Ohio's interstate landlord for such a miserable driving experience.

I'm unsure what it would take to make the Ohio Turnpike more pleasant—more lanes, fewer trucks, smoother asphalt, all of the above? Perhaps they should divvy it up into two dedicated car lanes and two dedicated truck lanes in both directions. No doubt, such a proposal would be extremely costly, but as long as this continues to be a major east-west running thoroughfare, perhaps it could be easily justified and accommodated—once we stop pouring billions of dollars into our country's war-making machine.

Lou Dobbs and Immigration, Part 1

2007-06-08T22:16:00.001-06:00

Cattle Sign
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Every night at 6:00 p.m. my folks sit down in front of the television and watch Lou Dobbs and his broadcasts on current events. I suspect there are few nights that go by that he doesn't rail on the subject of immigration here in the United States. I can't say I'm in agreement with everything he says, but I think he's an acceptable alternative to the dumbed-down talking heads on Fox News.

And perhaps his show isn't 100% journalistic given his facial expressions to any given story, but it appears he and his staff do their homework.

Regarding his agenda to put an end to illegal immigration, I watched the other day (what was probably) a typical "American" family work a rest stop on one of our nation's interstates. They were responsible for restocking the vending machines. The two plump children—both teens—walked around aimlessly with their attention devoted to their cell phones while their obese parents waddled about their work. They drove away in a brand new, full-size GMC panel van with handicapped plates on it. Overweight and slow moving certainly, but I wondered who was handicapped?

I tried to imagine members of this family working in the sun-baked fields weeding rows of crops or servicing rooms in a motel... work commonly carried out by our "illegal" friends—who have been doing the majority of this work for years.

My point here is this: in the day of cell phones, internet and 100 things to view on television (all for the most part distractions), how do we get our own legal population who have been exposed to/engaged in these distractions to carry out work that is considered "base," "monotonous" and not very rewarding? Compared to typical Americans of 50-100 years ago, todays American's are for the most part overweight, lazy and unimaginative. Sadly, they are not interested in true, hard work, (and most troubling) they are not physically capable of it. Perhaps all Americans should consider obtaining handicapped license plates as well.

A couple of questions to consider: Suppose we devised a way to automate menial/manual work as mentioned above and people with backs to break were no longer needed. Do you suppose we would still have an immigration problem? Let's say the nation begins cracking down on illegal immigrants that results in exporting them and preventing them from crossing our borders, how much will be have to pay legal citizens of the United States to work the fields and as a result, how much more expensive will that head of lettuce really cost at the market?

U.S. Constitution & Vatican II

2007-04-24T16:46:00.001-06:00

Ritzman Flag
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

Just for the record: I own a .22 caliber handgun. I also own a 16-gauge shotgun, a Savage .410/.22 double barrel shotgun and rifle, a Marlin lever action .22 rifle and another .22 caliber rifle that I can't remember the manufacturer's name. Not that it matters, but four of these firearms were given to me. I purchased the handgun outright.

After the Virginia Tech Massacre, I'd gladly give them all up. I said the same thing after the shootings at Columbine too.

I'm not a hunter although I've envisioned myself as a bird hunter some day in the future when I have the time for such folly. Further, I don't believe these weapons serve as a deterrent from any criminal action that may find me since I don't keep them loaded, nor do I keep the ammunition for them in the same location.

Really, I don't need them, do I? Certainly not the hand gun.

Some have said that it's my right to possess a gun—a Constitutional right. I suppose. That made a lot more sense in the day of George Washington and a new-born and vulnerable country that didn't have a powerful army to defend itself. I'd like to think that George and other founders would be alarmed to know that today's average weapons are capable of firing 15 rounds in a semi-automatic mode and would therefore be disapproving of any American citizen wielding that kind of fury in a firearm. I guess we'll never know how far they intended that right to go.

In my mind it's high time to revisit our constitution and bring it up to date in a few areas—gun ownership specifics in particular. Even the Vatican Council had enough sense to make a few changes in Church doctrine over the last two centuries in order to keep up with the times. In the same spirit, our Constitution could use a little "freshening up" too—if nothing else, just to clear up a few of these 200-year-old ambiguities.

Gun ownership? Fine. How about a black-powder, single shot firearm? Not only will such firearm limitations/regulations prevent one of us from massacring everyone at a McDonald's during the lunch hour, but perhaps it will level out the playing field during the hunting season too.

Equinox Overlook

2007-03-22T09:54:00.001-06:00

Equinox Bones
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

21 March 2007: Late this afternoon as the sun was making its way toward the western horizon, I headed for the mesa (Polecat Bench) north of town. It was the first day of spring—the equinox—and as usual, I was out to photograph the light on this special day. I do the same when the solstices come around too.

Once the sun was down and the "good" light was gone, my frantic pace associated with photography and diminishing light left me and I found myself standing on a small lip of cliff overlooking an obscure little canyon on the bench's south side. The air was starting to chill in the absence of the sun. Like the Four Corners (Navajo Reservation), the silence was complete. I scanned the horizon and everything in between.

It's times like these when the most profound thoughts come to me. By "profound" I would likely say these thoughts are simply more intense rather than deep or knowledgeable.

Gazing over at the dirtied and cluttered outcropping of oil/gas-extracting related equipment on the other side of the canyon, I couldn't help but think how primitive it all looked—out of place and disgusting too, like a circus clown showing up for a funeral.

I pondered the human race and its harnessing of energy through the ages. Constant of all has been the sun—since crawling out of our caves we have tapped its invisible rays for one thing or another. This lasting relationship of man and renewable energy would seem destined to evolve and refine itself further. Surely future societies will look back on all of this someday and say, "Man, where they ever stupid." And perhaps we'd already be there by now if there wasn't so much money to be made in the business of fossil fuels. I asked my wife when I returned home, "If you owned an oil company and knew that all of your customers could obtain their fuel needs through a renewable and relatively free source, wouldn't you drag your heels as long as you could?"

Next, I spied the crescent moon drifting toward the Beartooth Plateau where the sun had just disappeared. Not far from it was Venus. Even in the blueness of the waning sky, the planet was visible—the first star of the night. I thought of my recently deceased cat and friend, Sadie. I thought about those last moments with her and what happened as she drifted from my arms into that place that awaited her next. I imagined her saying to me, "You can't even grasp 5% of what this is all about." Even a cat ascends so much higher than my simple self once finished here.

Indeed, the silence and stillness touch me. I suppose someone else might experience the same in such settings and interpret it all as the voice of God speaking to them. Perhaps it is and I'm not bright enough to recognize who's speaking to me, but in my mind—I wonder sometimes—does it matter who's speaking to me as long as I hear them?

Is Thomas Timid?

2007-02-13T13:53:00.000-07:00

An open letter to Senator Craig Thomas of Wyoming

Senator Thomas:

I'd like you to seriously consider backing the non-binding action regarding the war in Iraq. I think it's time for our congress to turn away from its timid practices (or lack of) and look out for our men and women who are in harm's way which has resulted due to the world's largest boondoogle ever committed.

Let's spend the money for redeployment of our troops and anyone in Iraq who really wants out. We did it before in Vietnam, didn't we? I've no shame in our country about what happened in Vietnam in terms of not "winning the war." We've spilled enough of our own blood in Iraq—no one can accuse us of not caring. It would have been nice if things would have worked out better, but there's no indicators that promise a better tomorrow under the current policies and resulting circumstances. I don't believe in beating our head against this wall any longer... do you?

It's water under the bridge, but the money we are spending could have been used for so many other things that would better our country and the world—alternative energies come to mind. Let's not be afraid to say, "We made a mistake in Iraq."

Regards,

Morgan Tyree
Powell, Wyoming