What a weekend!

Memorial Day weekend.  For you blokes, Memorial Day is the day we colonials set aside to remember all who died defending the homeland, beginning with running off the Red Coats forward to one of our local boys being killed by a drunk driver in Minnesota a month ago (but that's another story).  

As per usual, my buddy Punch come up to visit, for it is also the weekend of the Jacksonville Jazz Festival and the Florida Folk Festival and, the Grand Prix of Monaco, the Indianapolis 500 and the Coke 600.  In short, the perfect weekend for two gearhead music lovers to hang out, drink martinis, smoke cigars and be entertained by world-class music and auto racing.  Having stocked the larder with booze, beer and steaks, we were prepared for anything... we thought.

Saturday morning and a beautiful day for a stroll on the downtown river walk.  The Jazz Festival occurs in the streets of downtown so a quick visit to the local trendy arts/farmer's market seemed in order.

Along the way we stopped in to take a look-see at a make-shift sculpture exhibit that included works by some of our friends.

The exhibit was intended to be whimsical and fun and it succeeded on both counts.  The giant bird's nest speaks for itself but the Styrofoam wall is a pretty good story.  It seems the artist spent late nights over several months gathering styrofoam packaging from around his neighborhood and assembled all of the pieces into this really fun and interesting piece.  We quizzed him over whether he was going to take it apart and take the individual pieces back to where he found them, late at night of course. He's considering it.

Next stop was the Jazz Festival downtown.  There are several stages placed around downtown and you simply walk to the acts you wish to see.  The festival is free and again, good fun.  Saw Bella Fleck and Marcus Roberts do a great eclectic set followed by jazz giant Sonny Rollins.  Beautiful day.  Everything is rosie.  That night we went to a street festival in another part of town.  Punch probably has some flicks over at his place.. here.

 Plans were to go back to the Jazz Festival on Sunday but were informed by mayoral proclamation on TV that all Sunday and Monday activities had been cancelled do to the approaching tropical storm, Beryl.  What?  Beryl??  What kind of name is that for a storm anyway?

We decided to ride down to Mayport near the ocean Sunday morning to check it out and found all of the shrimp boats in port and battening down.  Threatening skies and wind gusts at about 30-40 knots.

Spoke to the skipper of the Miss Rosa and asked how bad it was off shore.  He said, "Bad enough for me to be here and not there."  "So there's a real blow coming?" I asked.  He just nodded and went on about his business.

The crew and captain, doing all of the work, rolling out another tire to fender the boat against the dock.  You can see from the palms that the wind is picking up.

Leaning into the wind.  There is no weather that will deter fishermen and surfers.

A spot of sunshine highlights the inland fleet snug in their berths.  About six o'clock that afternoon the wind started in earnest.  It was a beautiful sight to see, the storm blowing in off of the river.  Sustained gusts of 65-70 knots.  Rain coming down in sheets.  Trees leaning, small branches and other debris falling on the roof like the rain.  About ten o'clock we lost power and it stayed off for the next 12 hours or so.  It's surprising how much you hear when there is nothing electric moving or making noise.  Just got cable/internet/tv/phone on about an hour ago.  All-in-all, a weekend to remember.

Good Grief! You can't make this stuff up

Roasted Fetuses In Luggage: Chow Hok Kuen Intended Gold-Leafed Corpses For Ritual

"British citizen Chow Hok Kuen, 28, was arrested in Thailand on Friday after police found six fetal corpses in his luggage, according to the Independent. The bodies, which belonged to fetuses between two and seven months old, had been roasted, and some were covered in gold leaf.

Thai police made the discovery after receiving a tip that a black magic services website was offering fetuses for sale, according to the New York Daily News.   Roasting fetuses and covering them in gold is part of a black magic ritual called Kuman thong, which means "golden child" in Thai. The preserved bodies are thought to bring good fortune to the owner, according to the International Business Times.

Authorities believe that Chow was planning to smuggle the fetuses to his native Taiwan, where one corpse could sell for up to $200,000 Thai baht, or $6,376.  Chow faces up to a year in prison on charges of hiding and covering dead bodies, according to CNN."

My head hurts.

It's the early bird that gets the worm... But it's the second rat who gets the cheese

There is a ground-level deck on the back corner of my house. It's a great place to sit and enjoy an afternoon toddy and cigar. I have a couple of bird feeders in a place where the squirrels can't get to them and I spread bird seed, augmented by sunflower seeds, in a couple of areas, one of them being next to the deck. There's a bird bath nearby and it's a popular rest stop for the neighborhood birds and squirrels.

I can see the area from my study window and over the years I've become familiar with the resident birds and squirrels and have watched generations come and go.

Several years ago a family of rats took up residence under this deck. It always starts with an adult or two. They cautiously poke their heads out from under the deck, and when the coast is clear, they scoot out to join the birds and squirrels in chowing down on the seed. Pretty soon they are joined by the little ones, with little pink ears, noses and tails.  What some would describe as, "precious."

Of course, the first thing my wife, and everyone else for that matter, says when they hear this story is... Why don't you kill them!

Now I have always taken a "live and let live" attitude when it comes to Mother Nature and every creature plays a role in this world and every creature has a right to exist and to "be."   So long as they don't threaten me, I am no threat to them. And that goes for these rats as well. Besides, they provide a lot of entertainment, and some sadness.  You see, rats are pretty much at the bottom of the carnivore food chain, and when the rats show up, so do the predators.

My little rat terrier, Skeeter, finds them endlessly fascinating. He can sniff and scratch at them for hours.  He once located the nest and dug them out. I found him happily munching down on the newborns. Arrrggghhh! I patched the hole and pretty much made the abode Skeeter proof, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

We have a family of Barred Owls in the neighborhood. They're pretty fearless and will sometimes land on the deck rail right next to me. At first light and sunset, they, mother and child, take up their positions in a tree above the feeding ground. The squirrels are to large to be prey for them. It's the rats they're after.

Then there are the other predators, like stray cats, and this beautiful corn snake, or red rat snake as the locals would say. This is the baby, the adult, now about 5' long, is around as well. They're pretty shy, because they too are prey to the owls.

Needless to say, it doesn't take long for all of the little pink noses and ears to disappear. But fear not for it won't be long before they're back again.  Such is life.

They're Breeding Like Rats

When the fuck is enough fucking?  Sometimes I find myself squarely on the side of the ultra-right.



A 33-year-old Knoxville, Tenn. man with 30 children appeared in court this week to ask the state for child-support help, Memphis news station WREG reported Wednesday. 

Desmond Hatchett has fathered 30 children -- which is believed to be the record in Knox county, according to the Los Angeles Times -- with 11 different women. His youngest children are toddlers and his oldest is 14.

Immoral vermin are destroying society.  Ruining it for the rest of us.  Period.

Americans Get Screwed, Again

Most people believe that Europeans pay far more in taxes than Americans.  After all, their Socialist-Democracies and all-encompassing centralized governments are known for eating up huge chunks of personal and corporate income, unlike here in the U.S. where most taxing power is reserved for the states.

While so much has been made of the federal income tax, it's state and local taxes that eat up a greater percentage of our income.  Think about it... gasoline tax, communications tax, property tax, sales tax, cigarette tax, liquor tax, hotel bed tax, toll roads, fuel surcharge tax, school district tax, special assessment tax, etc., etc., etc.  I have no doubt that we pay more taxes than the average European and we get far less in return.

Our convoluted decentralized tax system has created such a mish mosh of interdependencies that it's nearly impossible to figure them all out.  And at what cost?  Here's an example of one.

 

They're Dropping Like Flies...

R.I.P.  Donald "Duck" Dunn.  Another seminal musician passes away.  Another major musical influence in my life gone but not forgotten.

NEW YORK — Donald "Duck" Dunn, the bassist who helped create the gritty Memphis soul sound at Stax Records in the 1960s as part of the legendary group Booker T. and the MGs and contributed to such classics as "In the Midnight Hour," "Hold On, I'm Coming" and "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay," died Sunday at 70.

Dunn, whose legacy as one of the most respected session musicians in the business also included work with John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd's Blues Brothers as well as with Levon Helm, Eric Clapton, Neil Young and Bob Dylan, died while on tour in Tokyo.

News of his death was posted on the Facebook site of his friend and fellow musician Steve Cropper, who was on the same tour. Cropper said Dunn died in his sleep.

PTSD = BS

When I was selling life insurance full time I did quite a lot of business with soldiers stationed at Ft. Stewart in Hinesville, Georgia.  I was pretty good at getting these guys covered prior to their deployment to Iraq but a stumbling block I could never find a way around was getting troops leaving the service or retiring covered for disability insurance and sometimes, even life insurance.

Most of these guys were still in their early 40's and non-smokers in excellent health.  But the catch was, according to the Army, they were "disabled."  It turned out that most any kind of scratch or injury in a combat zone qualified you for 10% disability which not only increased your retirement pay, but also made you eligible for 100% Veterans Administration health benefits for you and your dependents for the rest of your life. It was a scam that everyone turned a blind eye to so that retiring veterans could pad their wallets.

I believe the same thing is happening now with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  I read somewhere where 80% of the troops stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan never see combat and are never under enemy fire.  I have also read estimates that as many as 60% of the troops stationed in the Middle East suffer PTSD.
  
I say, poppycock.

Last weekend, Sunday, May 6th was the 70th Anniversary of the fall of Bataan and the 1942 surrender at Corregidor, Philippines.  The local chapter of the Filipino American Veterans Society held a commemorative service at the Veterans Wall and I decided to attend, just because.

There were three of the original WWII veterans there and they told their personal stories of the Bataan Death March.  Each story was blood curdling, filled with unbelievable atrocities committed by the Japanese Army.  One man remembered how they were forced-marched for 120 miles without food or water.  He said the American soldiers were abused most, those that fell behind shot on the spot and left to rot on the side of the road as reminders to those that followed.  Out of 60 men in his group, only 6 survived the march.

None of these Filipinos received any veterans benefits what-so-ever or even an official thank you until corrective legislation was passed in May, 2009, 67 years after the fact. You know what? None of them complained about it. None of them expected anything special. Each of them stood tall at the ceremony and sang God Bless America and saluted the flag.

We have become a nation of entitlement wimps.  A Navy medical officer told me recently that in spite of the economy, the military is having a hard time filling its ranks because only one out of four who apply are accepted.  Why?  Obesity and character flaws, re: criminal records.  Obviously, a large proportion of the one quarter that do make it believe they are entitled to special treatment simply for "being there."
 
There is no doubt that many soldiers in combat suffer legitimate traumatic stress and deserve all of the help they can get.  But most of them, PTSD my ass.

And yes, I am a veteran.

Dead Baby Flesh Capsules Seized In Korea... I'm not making this up

Today's headline in the Huffpost....

Capsules Made With Dead Baby Flesh Seized By South Korea
 
Thousands of smuggled drug capsules filled with powdered flesh from dead babies have been seized by South Korean customs officers.  The customs authorities said more than 17,000 of the capsules had been illegally brought into the country from China since August 2011. The powdered flesh is believed by some to cure disease and boost stamina.

However, officials insist that the capsules, which contain flesh of dead babies and fetuses, are full of bacteria and pose a health risk.

Reports from Associated Press suggest that the capsules were made in China from dead babies whose bodies were chopped into pieces and dried before being turned into the powder and placed in the capsules.

"It was confirmed those capsules contain materials harmful to the human body, such as super bacteria. We need to take tougher measures to protect public health," a customs official was quoted as saying by the Korea Times.

You know, I consider myself to be a pretty liberal fellow, mostly non-judgmental, accepting folks for what they are.   But now and then something like this comes along that's a wake-up call for just how fucked up a great deal of humanity really is.

It's shocking to learn how many people on this earth are still living in the 16th Century.  Oh, they have all of the new wiz-bangs and gadgets and even indoor plumbing, but culturally and morally...

But what's most distressing about this is not the fact that such caveman mentality exists, but that the supposedly "enlightened" authorities are more concerned about the threats to public health than the more dangerous underlying "beliefs" that spawn this kind of thing in the first place.

By The Light Of The Silvery Moon

Couldn't help but snap a couple of flicks of the Cinco de Mayo Moon.  The Goddess speaks for herself.

Fellow travelers enjoying the sunset/moonrise.

The More I Learn, The Less I Know

In my last post I talked about visiting the Bradenton/Sarasota, Florida area.  While there, the City of Bradenton celebrated it's annual Desoto Festival, commemorating the visit by Hernando lo those many years ago.  The key part of the festival is a huge mardi gras style parade with marching bands and floats and beads and all the rest.

It was while enjoying one of the high school marching bands that I was reminded of my old high school band.  It was a doozy.  125 strong.  Won competition after competition.  Represented the state in Kennedy's inaugural parade.  Finished 5th in Music Man national band competition.  Performed in Europe.  The pride of the school and the community.

Today, it has fewer than 40 students and doesn't field a marching band at all for most occasions.  Of course, a lot has happened over the ensuing years.  It has gone from an all-white segregated school to one that's now primarily minority.  It has gone from a school of 1,500 students to one of nearly 3,000 students.  But still, how can something so superior become something so inferior that it's basically non-existent?  

I decided to write a letter to the editor lambasting my hometown for being so backward and outright cheap, but I needed some ammunition so I contacted a friend who is an administrator at my old school and asked her what has happened to the band.  Here is her partial reply.  It's lengthy, but worth the read.

To help frame the problem -

A high school student has 7 places in his schedule for courses. If a freshman or sophomore scores a level one on the FCAT (Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test) reading test OR a level two and scores as "dysfluent" (fluency is the measure of one's aibility to read text at a steady rate, with appropriate pacing, and minimal stops - it is an appropriate test to use to obtain an overall picture of comprehension when a child is learning to read, but it is inappropriate for students at this level; secondary age students develop coping mechanisms to mask comprehension issues - a student may well be able to read at a sustained pace, but have minimal understanding of a passage ... but I digress), he is placed in Intensive Reading. Intensive Reading takes up two elective spots in the schedule, because the student is in reading every day. In addition, all 9th and 10th grade students take a math, English, and science class. Believe it or not, social studies is an elective in 9th grade, but we have typically put students in a geography class or AP (Advanced Placement) Human Geography (think of it as anthropology with training wheels - few ninth graders are ready for the rigors of a true AP class, unless they have been in a properly aligned, pre-AP or honors prep program). Our 10th graders take World History or AP World History.  So . . . that child who did not pass the FCAT reading exam has already filled 6 of his 7 spots for classes. Students are also required to take a credit of health and a credit of PE before they graduate, so many are placed in at least one during the 9th and 10th grade years. But wait ... there's more. That same student who struggled with the FCAT reading, may also have had difficulty with the 8th grade FCAT math test. If that student did not successfully complete Algebra in 8th grade and made a low score on the 8th grade math FCAT, he can be placed into a double-blocked (it meets every day) Intensive Algebra class - eating up two more spaces in the schedule. There is also an Intensive Math elective which is not double-blocked. It is not unusual for a struggling student to enter with no space in his schedule for an elective, such as band.

Also, struggling students don't happen overnight. Many of these students have been placed in remedial classes in middle school, which means they never had an opportunity to participate in beginning band classes in the 6th - 8th grades, assuming the students attend a middle school where band is still offered.

I am all for providing a firm academic grounding, but humans need motivation and joy in their lives too. I remember students who were academically challenged but found a home in band before this hyper-focus on testing came to pass. Band gave them a place where they could be successful and work as a part of a team while they tried to bring their academic studies up to par.  There is also a significant body of research correlating participation in music education with academic success.

And testing? Do you realize that we have had a standardized test conducted on our campus EVERY day since April 16? The week of 4/16 began the FCAT retakes for upper classmen who had not passed. April 23 began two full weeks of testing for 9th and 10th graders. Since the state has gone to a computerized assessment for retakes and 10th graders (9th grade will be added next year), we are limited to the number of students we can test in one day by the number of functional computers we have in our labs. Computerized EOC (End of Course) exams began this week, and will continue for two more complete weeks. These are in Algebra, Geometry, and Biology. AP exams start next week, and last for 2, then we have senior finals, finals for everyone else, and End of Course Exams in the classes that do not take them on the computer. And THIS ISN'T EVEN A FULL LIST for the last quarter, and doesn't begin to note the multiple district and state tests students took in quarters 1 - 3.

I know this is borderline rant, but it starts to give you a picture of what a band director is up against. When I say Mr. Jones has done an admirable job in the face of adversity, you can begin to have a glimpse of the obstacles. Scheduling is another issue. Gone are the days when the band director could have his top group together in one period, or perhaps all his brass together. Band is low on the scheduling totem pole - not for the school; our administrators bend over backward trying to find ways to make this work - but for a state and district that has lost sight of the human toll. Could you imagine having a band class composed of a mediocre tubist, 2 advanced students on flute, a bass drummer who doesn't read music, and 4 trombones? Welcome to Mr. Jone's world.

And even with all of the above, he continues to prepare students to put a show on the field and compete. Yes, he is well-deserving of your support, as is every other arts educator in this district who is not assigned to one of our two tier system's "private - public" schools, aka magnet programs.

One final question - where the hell is the press? They have abandoned their responsibility to report the truth.

This totally screwed-up system can be laid directly at the feet of the brothers Bush, Jeb as Governor, George as President.  As Chris Rock so aptly observed:  "No Child Left Behind?  It used to be Head Start.  What the fuck happened?"

A Weekend Jaunt To South Florida

Sorry I've been missing in action for the last few days.  Took a run down to South Florida to the Myakka River State Park near Sarasota.  The occasion of this jaunt was the annual Florida Envirothon competition.

In a nutshell, the Envirothon is an environmentally-themed high-school competition where students compete with each other in five knowledge areas:  Aquatics, Soils, Forestry, Wildlife, and a Current Topic, this year's topic being Non-Point-Source Pollution.  Non-point-source pollution is pollution that cannot be traced to a single source, i.e. runoff.  Currently, it is the single biggest source of water pollution in the U.S.A.

I serve on the local Envirothon committee and wanted to make an appearance at the state competition to cheer my team on.  The state winner goes on to the national competition and if they win there, international competition.  I don't know the results yet, but I do know that our team won one of the categories but finished out of the top three overall.  Oh well, it was a good effort and the perfect excuse to visit my old buddy Punch who lives in the area.

Mr. C's big adventure, in pictures:

First stop:  After a long haul down from Baja, a nap under a shade tree on beautiful Tampa Bay overlooking the Skyway Bridge before the final leg into Bradenton/Sarasota.

Got up early Saturday morning for the ride out to Myakka State Park for the competition.  A view of the Myakka River.  The water is lower in all Florida lakes and tributaries than I have ever seen it, but still a beautiful sight and still plenty of alligators to remind you of where you are.

Sunday morning Punch and I decided to take a ride to the Sarasota waterfront.  Sarasota is really a beautiful city and Sarasota Bay a favorite anchorage.

An old salt rows ashore.  In the cage in front of him is his Cockatiel, Lucy, his best and only companion.

On the return trip I couldn't resist a photo of this stunning field of day lilies in Citra.  This is the second time I have been fortunate enough to see this splendid sight.

Decided while in the area to scoot over to Cross Creek and the homestead of Marjorie Kennan Rawlings, author of The Yearling.  It's really a pretty nice cabin considering.  Rather larger than this photo of the kitchen door suggests, but not grand by any stretch.  Back in those days, no electricity, no indoor plumbing, no running water, unless you were fortunate enough to afford an artesian well which drew water from the high pressure Floridan aquifer.

The tenant cabin on the property gives you more of an idea how close to the earth most people lived in those days.  Scratching a living out of the central Florida jungle must have been close to living hell... or paradise depending on how you looked at it.  One thing's for sure, every time I visit one of these old homesteads it gives me a renewed appreciation of air conditioning.  I grew up in a house without any and can speak from experience.