“We Need It All” —Senator John Barrasso

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

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

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

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

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

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

They Eat Their Own Don’t They?

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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?

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?

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

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.