NEWS: A labrador that ate a beehive containing pesticides and thousands of dead bees has won an award that recognized the most unusual pet health insurance claim in the United States.
American pet-insurance adjuster Veterinary Pet Insurance (VPI) Co. selected the four-legged Ellie from a dozen pet-related insurance claims nationwide.
Ellie, who fully recovered from her encounter with the beehive in Southern California, beat an insurance claim from a border collie that ran through a window to get at a mailman and a terrier that bit a chainsaw.
Views: I wonder if any of these claims are denied because being a dog is a pre-existing condition? Just asking.
News: Glenn Beck's "Restoring Honor" rally at the Lincoln Memorial draws thousands, or tens of thousands, or hundreds of thousands, or millions, depending on who you ask.
Views: CBS News commissioned the company AirPhotosLive.com to offer an independent estimate of how many people showed up for the event.
AirPhotosLive.com calculated that there were approximately 87,000 people there, plus or minus 9,000 people. It was the only scientific estimate made of the number of people at the rally.
Beck said he drew at least 500,000. Rep. Michele Bachmann, R-Minnesota, at her own rally held on the edges of Beck's event, said, "We're not going to let anyone get away with saying there were less than a million here today because we were witnesses."
Suffice to say a lot of people showed up. And just to make sure attendance wasn't spotty, Beck announced before the event that it may be the last chance to attend a large rally at the historic Lincoln Memorial.
"The government is trying to now close the Lincoln Memorial for any kind of large gatherings," Beck said. "This may be the last large gathering ever to assemble at the Lincoln Memorial. Historic, historic."
Beck is no Honest Abe. Because, according to the National Parks Service, the Lincoln Memorial remains open for business.
"There is absolutely no attempt by the government to restrict gatherings at the Lincoln Memorial or at any of our sites," said Margie Ortiz, a National Park Service spokeswoman in published remarks. "There is zero basis for his claim."
Rehabilitation work on the Lincoln Memorial reflecting pool and grounds will begin soon, and could continue for two years, but National Park Service officials said that work will not prevent the use of the facilities for gatherings, though the size of a gathering would be considered when weighing applications during the construction period.
News: President Obama redecorates the Oval Office.
Views: To the chagrin of his detractors, he didn't install a Muslim prayer rug and a minaret.
Instead, the makeover, by California decorator Michael Smith, (and paid for by donations) has drawn reactions ranging from "less intimidating and more comfortable than previous Oval Offices" to "too brown, too modern, and too much like a basement rumpus room."
The most striking feature: a rug adorned around the edges with some of the President's favorite historical quotes:
"The Only Thing We Have to Fear is Fear Itself" - President Franklin D. Roosevelt. "The Arc of the Moral Universe is Long, But it Bends Towards Justice" - Martin Luther King Jr. "Government of the People, By the People, For the People" - President Abraham Lincoln. "No Problem of Human Destiny is Beyond Human Beings" - President John F. Kennedy. "The Welfare of Each of Us is Dependent Fundamentally Upon the Welfare of All of Us" - President Theodore Roosevelt.
Someone soon will undoubtedly read into these quotes a nefarious plot to turn us all into Prius-driving, Quran-quoting socialists who love gay marriage and hate the Fourth of July.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
The Retread and the Rookie
Don't look now, folks, but there's an election coming up soon.
Nothing much at stake here, just the fate of a once vibrant state so awash in red ink and incompetent political leadership that it threatens to become a West Coast version of Mississippi.
And who will lead us out of the darkness?
Jerry Brown and Meg Whitman tell us they can do the job, but neither inspire a lot of confidence. There are no Kennedys or Reagans in this race.
What to make of Jerry Brown? He was a post-Watergate breath of fresh air when he became governor in 1975, a mixture of fiscal conservatism and social liberalism but who at times was so ethereal he was difficult to comprehend.
For all his high mindedness, he is at heart a career politician. Governor for two terms, mayor of Oakland, chairman of the state Democratic Party, state attorney general. He ran for president three times and the U.S. Senate once.
Brown was a political minimalist, who governed in what he called an "era of limits."
He was at the helm when Prop. 13 passed, a measure which has dominated the California economic landscape since 1978 for better or worse. He opposed it but couldn't prevent its passage.
Now, at age 70, he wants to be governor again. Whatever else he brings to the table, I remain astounded that the Democratic Party, with a chance to seize the statehouse from a badly flawed Republican, has pinned its hopes on a retread.
Is the salvation of our future to be found in our past? Or is it in an unknown who was so out of touch politically that she didn't vote for more than 20 years.
Republican Meg Whitman is throwing around money like the billionaire that she is, nearly $100 million of her own cash at last report, in order to get elected.
Forget that this former eBay CEO is by herself making this the most expensive gubernatorial race in history. Forget that playing princess to Brown's pauper may be a bad political decision in an economically depressed state with a soaring unemployment rate. Forget that she has hired 56 different political consulting firms.
What Whitman is buying here is exposure, lots and lots of it. She has so saturated the airwaves, it's impossible to watch TV or listen to the radio without exposure to a Whitman ad.
Does it work? Sure, people know her although I'm beginning to wonder if they aren't tuning her out, like one of those irritating Quizno commercials.
If you are still watching those ads, you know Meg is in attack mode. But her meat-cleaver approach does little to define her or her platform. And in her zeal to trash an opponent, the facts often get left behind.
Whitman's campaign ad, "Jerry Brown: A Legacy of Failure," is a case in point. According to FactCheck.Org. a project of the Annenberg Public Policy Center:
The ad claims that "crime soared" while Brown was mayor of Oakland. That's false. The total number of crimes actually went down by more than 13 percent.
Also false is the ad's claim that Brown "damaged the school system so badly the state had to take it over." As mayor, Brown had almost no control over the school district, which was run instead by an elected school board.
The ad claims Brown worked to "send California jobs to China," but that's unproven. The claim rests on an 18-year-old newspaper story that Brown strongly denied.
Some of the ad's other claims lack context. For example, it's true as claimed that California had unemployment of 11 percent when Brown finished his time as the state's governor. But the ad fails to mention that the national unemployment rate was 10.8 percent at the time.
And what about Brown? Except for a few ads paid for by union interests, he remains largely silent so far, and it isn't a reflection of his Zen persona.
The fact is he doesn't have the money to maintain an indefinite media campaign. Instead, he'll wait until after Labor Day.
In the meantime, the Brown camp has started a website called Meg-a-Myths. Brown spokesman Sterling Clifford says it exists because "Whitman is either incapable or unwilling to tell the truth about Jerry Brown, California or herself. If she won't, we will."
Let us hope that we can dispense with the trash talking and hear real solutions for this state's massive problems. Let's hope that one of these candidates will rise to the occasion.
Nothing much at stake here, just the fate of a once vibrant state so awash in red ink and incompetent political leadership that it threatens to become a West Coast version of Mississippi.
And who will lead us out of the darkness?
Jerry Brown and Meg Whitman tell us they can do the job, but neither inspire a lot of confidence. There are no Kennedys or Reagans in this race.
What to make of Jerry Brown? He was a post-Watergate breath of fresh air when he became governor in 1975, a mixture of fiscal conservatism and social liberalism but who at times was so ethereal he was difficult to comprehend.
For all his high mindedness, he is at heart a career politician. Governor for two terms, mayor of Oakland, chairman of the state Democratic Party, state attorney general. He ran for president three times and the U.S. Senate once.
Brown was a political minimalist, who governed in what he called an "era of limits."
He was at the helm when Prop. 13 passed, a measure which has dominated the California economic landscape since 1978 for better or worse. He opposed it but couldn't prevent its passage.
Now, at age 70, he wants to be governor again. Whatever else he brings to the table, I remain astounded that the Democratic Party, with a chance to seize the statehouse from a badly flawed Republican, has pinned its hopes on a retread.
Is the salvation of our future to be found in our past? Or is it in an unknown who was so out of touch politically that she didn't vote for more than 20 years.
Republican Meg Whitman is throwing around money like the billionaire that she is, nearly $100 million of her own cash at last report, in order to get elected.
Forget that this former eBay CEO is by herself making this the most expensive gubernatorial race in history. Forget that playing princess to Brown's pauper may be a bad political decision in an economically depressed state with a soaring unemployment rate. Forget that she has hired 56 different political consulting firms.
What Whitman is buying here is exposure, lots and lots of it. She has so saturated the airwaves, it's impossible to watch TV or listen to the radio without exposure to a Whitman ad.
Does it work? Sure, people know her although I'm beginning to wonder if they aren't tuning her out, like one of those irritating Quizno commercials.
If you are still watching those ads, you know Meg is in attack mode. But her meat-cleaver approach does little to define her or her platform. And in her zeal to trash an opponent, the facts often get left behind.
Whitman's campaign ad, "Jerry Brown: A Legacy of Failure," is a case in point. According to FactCheck.Org. a project of the Annenberg Public Policy Center:
The ad claims that "crime soared" while Brown was mayor of Oakland. That's false. The total number of crimes actually went down by more than 13 percent.
Also false is the ad's claim that Brown "damaged the school system so badly the state had to take it over." As mayor, Brown had almost no control over the school district, which was run instead by an elected school board.
The ad claims Brown worked to "send California jobs to China," but that's unproven. The claim rests on an 18-year-old newspaper story that Brown strongly denied.
Some of the ad's other claims lack context. For example, it's true as claimed that California had unemployment of 11 percent when Brown finished his time as the state's governor. But the ad fails to mention that the national unemployment rate was 10.8 percent at the time.
And what about Brown? Except for a few ads paid for by union interests, he remains largely silent so far, and it isn't a reflection of his Zen persona.
The fact is he doesn't have the money to maintain an indefinite media campaign. Instead, he'll wait until after Labor Day.
In the meantime, the Brown camp has started a website called Meg-a-Myths. Brown spokesman Sterling Clifford says it exists because "Whitman is either incapable or unwilling to tell the truth about Jerry Brown, California or herself. If she won't, we will."
Let us hope that we can dispense with the trash talking and hear real solutions for this state's massive problems. Let's hope that one of these candidates will rise to the occasion.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Motorcade Madness
Years ago, I stood at the corner of Second Street and Broadway in downtown Los Angeles, returning to work after lunch.
Suddenly, a large limo pulled up not five feet away from the curb on which I stood and stopped before turning right.
I peered into the back seat and who should I see but President Jimmy Carter, who waved before his car sped away. A colleague criticized my sense of journalistic indifference because I waved back.
To be sure, it was a simpler time and Mr. Carter didn't often draw large crowds of adoring supporters in his travels.
But contrast that brief and simple encounter with the Old Testament gridlock that ensued this past week when President Obama commuted from LAX to attend a fundraiser in Hancock Park.
It was so bad, according to news reports, that residents of the area were calling for an investigation because they were caught in traffic for hours.
Only Michael Jackson's funeral could rival it for sheer unmitigated inconvenience.
"It was a beautiful thing," one resident was quoted as saying. "Young, old, black, white - everyone was pissed off."
Another resident complained it took him nearly three hours to travel one mile (which he could have walked in 20 minutes).
Others tried to politicize it. After all, only a socialist would take away our God-given right to drive wherever or whenever we want, or so the fringe chatter went.
Look, I feel their pain. I once was herded off the Golden State Freeway in Burbank to let a Nancy Reagan entourage pass. In addition to the inconvenience, it makes you feel like a ragamuffin who is pushed aside so the royal coach can pass by.
But let's have a reality check.
First and foremost, the Westside of L.A is unrivaled when it comes to beaches, posh neighborhoods chucked full of celebrities, ritzy restaurants and the worst traffic in our merry megalopolis.
Traffic in the San Gabriel Valley is no stroll in the park. But on the Westside, it's the stuff of legends.
You can cause a noteworthy traffic jam with a fender bender on Wilshire Boulevard. Throw a hubcap on the 405 and a SigAlert breaks out.
Try a leisurely trip down Pacific Coast Highway at morning commute time. Check out the Santa Monica Freeway eastbound some evening when the Lakers are playing or there's a concert at Staples. It makes you wonder why the auto industry has fallen on hard times.
Public transportation west of downtown is almost nonexistent. And this in a community that was ranked in a recent IBM survey as No.1 in "commuter pain" among American cities.
Drop a presidential motorcade into this cauldron and watch the smoke rise.
Many residents blamed what they saw as a lack of planning and advanced notification. But the Secret Service doesn't do advanced notification for presidential motorcades. If you don't understand why, stop reading now and go watch television.
Advanced planning? The president visited, attended his event and left without being assassinated. Mission accomplished.
When President Reagan was shot by a lovelorn loner named John Hinckley Jr. on a Washington street corner in 1981, it was clear the Secret Service needed to do better.
After 9/11, that mandate became even more urgent.
Now, with the nation's first black president serving in an era of political toxicity, the security surrounding Mr. Obama is unprecedented. When he was inaugurated, the Secret Service coordinated at least 40,000 agents and officers from some 94 police, military and security agencies.
It was accepted as the norm when President Bush traveled with an entourage that included 100 national security advisors, 50 White House political aids, 200 representative from other government departments, a personal chef and his team of four cooks, 250 Secret Service agents and 15 sniffer dog teams. I doubt if those numbers have declined.
There have been public relations gaffes to be sure.
Just recently, Vice President Joe Biden held up airplane traffic for hours when he dropped into town for an appearance on the "Tonight Show With Jay Leno."
President Clinton was accused of shutting down two runways at LAX while he waited for his hair stylist on Air Force One, although the facts of that story are in dispute and it appears to be an urban legend.
Massive security for the president especially when he travels and the inconvenience it causes reflect the world we live in, unfortunately.
And when that world intersects with yours, expect delays.
Suddenly, a large limo pulled up not five feet away from the curb on which I stood and stopped before turning right.
I peered into the back seat and who should I see but President Jimmy Carter, who waved before his car sped away. A colleague criticized my sense of journalistic indifference because I waved back.
To be sure, it was a simpler time and Mr. Carter didn't often draw large crowds of adoring supporters in his travels.
But contrast that brief and simple encounter with the Old Testament gridlock that ensued this past week when President Obama commuted from LAX to attend a fundraiser in Hancock Park.
It was so bad, according to news reports, that residents of the area were calling for an investigation because they were caught in traffic for hours.
Only Michael Jackson's funeral could rival it for sheer unmitigated inconvenience.
"It was a beautiful thing," one resident was quoted as saying. "Young, old, black, white - everyone was pissed off."
Another resident complained it took him nearly three hours to travel one mile (which he could have walked in 20 minutes).
Others tried to politicize it. After all, only a socialist would take away our God-given right to drive wherever or whenever we want, or so the fringe chatter went.
Look, I feel their pain. I once was herded off the Golden State Freeway in Burbank to let a Nancy Reagan entourage pass. In addition to the inconvenience, it makes you feel like a ragamuffin who is pushed aside so the royal coach can pass by.
But let's have a reality check.
First and foremost, the Westside of L.A is unrivaled when it comes to beaches, posh neighborhoods chucked full of celebrities, ritzy restaurants and the worst traffic in our merry megalopolis.
Traffic in the San Gabriel Valley is no stroll in the park. But on the Westside, it's the stuff of legends.
You can cause a noteworthy traffic jam with a fender bender on Wilshire Boulevard. Throw a hubcap on the 405 and a SigAlert breaks out.
Try a leisurely trip down Pacific Coast Highway at morning commute time. Check out the Santa Monica Freeway eastbound some evening when the Lakers are playing or there's a concert at Staples. It makes you wonder why the auto industry has fallen on hard times.
Public transportation west of downtown is almost nonexistent. And this in a community that was ranked in a recent IBM survey as No.1 in "commuter pain" among American cities.
Drop a presidential motorcade into this cauldron and watch the smoke rise.
Many residents blamed what they saw as a lack of planning and advanced notification. But the Secret Service doesn't do advanced notification for presidential motorcades. If you don't understand why, stop reading now and go watch television.
Advanced planning? The president visited, attended his event and left without being assassinated. Mission accomplished.
When President Reagan was shot by a lovelorn loner named John Hinckley Jr. on a Washington street corner in 1981, it was clear the Secret Service needed to do better.
After 9/11, that mandate became even more urgent.
Now, with the nation's first black president serving in an era of political toxicity, the security surrounding Mr. Obama is unprecedented. When he was inaugurated, the Secret Service coordinated at least 40,000 agents and officers from some 94 police, military and security agencies.
It was accepted as the norm when President Bush traveled with an entourage that included 100 national security advisors, 50 White House political aids, 200 representative from other government departments, a personal chef and his team of four cooks, 250 Secret Service agents and 15 sniffer dog teams. I doubt if those numbers have declined.
There have been public relations gaffes to be sure.
Just recently, Vice President Joe Biden held up airplane traffic for hours when he dropped into town for an appearance on the "Tonight Show With Jay Leno."
President Clinton was accused of shutting down two runways at LAX while he waited for his hair stylist on Air Force One, although the facts of that story are in dispute and it appears to be an urban legend.
Massive security for the president especially when he travels and the inconvenience it causes reflect the world we live in, unfortunately.
And when that world intersects with yours, expect delays.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Clamshell Combat
The fight was short, but brutal.
After five minutes of close combat, despite suffering several wounds and in complete disregard for my own safety, I defeated my opponent with a violent thrust from a pair of industrial-sized scissors.
Wiping the sweat from my forehead and the blood from my arms, victory was mine. I was finally was able to remove my new electric toothbrush from its "clamshell" plastic packaging.
Of all the outrageous slings and arrows visited upon consumers in the last several decades, impenetrable plastic packaging may rank close to the top. (Closely followed by "tamper resistant" caps that can be easily opened by a simple push-pull double reverse half-gainer twist.)
The "clamshell" packaging seems to be designed by people hand picked for their sadistic tendencies. They have created a product that lets you see your purchase but renders it unobtainable unless you carry a 3.4 amp powered handsaw in your pocket or purse.
According to one report, consumers suffer thousands of injuries per year, such as cut fingers and sprained wrists, from tools used to open packages and from the packaging itself.
Not to mention lingering anger management issues and physical exhaustion.
Consumer Reports even presents "Oyster Awards" for the products with the hardest-to-open packaging.
Lucky me, my brand new Oral-B Sonic toothbrush kit was a winner of the coveted Oyster. The magazine described the product thus: "A tight fit between the plastic skin and cardboard thwarted scissors. Our tester grabbed a box cutter but hacked up the box as an unavoidable result. After removing the clamshell and opening the box, she had to dislodge parts from a foam case, yank off one plastic bag covering the power cord and another protecting additional components, then pop perforations on smaller clamshells shielding the toothbrush heads. Her work table was littered with sharp plastic shards."
Another Consumer Reports winner was a Uniden cordless phone set: It took 9 minutes 22 seconds to unwrap completely and nearly caused injury to the person opening it.
Yet another prize went to "American Idol" Barbie and her packaging, which didn't require lethal weapons but took 15 minutes and 10 seconds to untie all the wires, rip the stitches from her hair and slice the thick plastic manacles off her arms and torso.
One shopper complained of buying a large kitchen knife that couldn't be separated from its package unless you used - drum roll - a large kitchen knife.
A British researcher complained that "we are still chewing through plastic like wild dogs."
In a survey conducted at Southern Methodist University's Cox School of Business, almost 80 percent of households "expressed anger, frustration or outright rage" with plastic packaging. Consumers also tended to use words such as "hate" and "difficult" when describing these products.
My question: Who are the 20 percent who were apparently satisfied with sealed plastic products? Oyster shuckers? Orthopedic surgeons? Sushi chefs?
The idea behind this packaging is to intentionally make products difficult to open to reduce package pilferage and shoplifting. I know this is a big and costly problem for business.
But I wonder if the loses from those crimes is exceeded by the decline in business and goodwill from customers fed up with engaging in martial arts to open a package with a light bulb inside.
I ask because some merchants are responding to the cry of the wounded consumer. Wal-Mart Stores, Target and Sears all have programs to phase out clamshells, according to the Center for Health, Environment and Justice, as does Best Buy.
Amazon has begun a "Frustration-Free Packaging" initiative. Sony launched a "Death to the Clamshell" campaign.
Truth be told, many of these changes are being made for environmental and toxicity concerns rather than the mental health of their customers.
But if it will prevent me from looking like I just emerged from a knife fight after buying a new toothbrush, I'm all for it.
There is a loser in all this, and it's not the emergency room docs.
It's the cottage industry of clamshell packaging openers that sprung up over the last few years.
One such device, the OpenX, has sold in the millions, according to its inventor.
The irony of it is that if you find an OpenX in a store, it will probably be encased in hard-to-open clamshell packaging.
After five minutes of close combat, despite suffering several wounds and in complete disregard for my own safety, I defeated my opponent with a violent thrust from a pair of industrial-sized scissors.
Wiping the sweat from my forehead and the blood from my arms, victory was mine. I was finally was able to remove my new electric toothbrush from its "clamshell" plastic packaging.
Of all the outrageous slings and arrows visited upon consumers in the last several decades, impenetrable plastic packaging may rank close to the top. (Closely followed by "tamper resistant" caps that can be easily opened by a simple push-pull double reverse half-gainer twist.)
The "clamshell" packaging seems to be designed by people hand picked for their sadistic tendencies. They have created a product that lets you see your purchase but renders it unobtainable unless you carry a 3.4 amp powered handsaw in your pocket or purse.
According to one report, consumers suffer thousands of injuries per year, such as cut fingers and sprained wrists, from tools used to open packages and from the packaging itself.
Not to mention lingering anger management issues and physical exhaustion.
Consumer Reports even presents "Oyster Awards" for the products with the hardest-to-open packaging.
Lucky me, my brand new Oral-B Sonic toothbrush kit was a winner of the coveted Oyster. The magazine described the product thus: "A tight fit between the plastic skin and cardboard thwarted scissors. Our tester grabbed a box cutter but hacked up the box as an unavoidable result. After removing the clamshell and opening the box, she had to dislodge parts from a foam case, yank off one plastic bag covering the power cord and another protecting additional components, then pop perforations on smaller clamshells shielding the toothbrush heads. Her work table was littered with sharp plastic shards."
Another Consumer Reports winner was a Uniden cordless phone set: It took 9 minutes 22 seconds to unwrap completely and nearly caused injury to the person opening it.
Yet another prize went to "American Idol" Barbie and her packaging, which didn't require lethal weapons but took 15 minutes and 10 seconds to untie all the wires, rip the stitches from her hair and slice the thick plastic manacles off her arms and torso.
One shopper complained of buying a large kitchen knife that couldn't be separated from its package unless you used - drum roll - a large kitchen knife.
A British researcher complained that "we are still chewing through plastic like wild dogs."
In a survey conducted at Southern Methodist University's Cox School of Business, almost 80 percent of households "expressed anger, frustration or outright rage" with plastic packaging. Consumers also tended to use words such as "hate" and "difficult" when describing these products.
My question: Who are the 20 percent who were apparently satisfied with sealed plastic products? Oyster shuckers? Orthopedic surgeons? Sushi chefs?
The idea behind this packaging is to intentionally make products difficult to open to reduce package pilferage and shoplifting. I know this is a big and costly problem for business.
But I wonder if the loses from those crimes is exceeded by the decline in business and goodwill from customers fed up with engaging in martial arts to open a package with a light bulb inside.
I ask because some merchants are responding to the cry of the wounded consumer. Wal-Mart Stores, Target and Sears all have programs to phase out clamshells, according to the Center for Health, Environment and Justice, as does Best Buy.
Amazon has begun a "Frustration-Free Packaging" initiative. Sony launched a "Death to the Clamshell" campaign.
Truth be told, many of these changes are being made for environmental and toxicity concerns rather than the mental health of their customers.
But if it will prevent me from looking like I just emerged from a knife fight after buying a new toothbrush, I'm all for it.
There is a loser in all this, and it's not the emergency room docs.
It's the cottage industry of clamshell packaging openers that sprung up over the last few years.
One such device, the OpenX, has sold in the millions, according to its inventor.
The irony of it is that if you find an OpenX in a store, it will probably be encased in hard-to-open clamshell packaging.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Water Water Everywhere
If we could take a group of folks from the 1950s and plunk them down in 2010 Los Angeles, the first things they'd say after looking around is: "Whatever happened to chrome on cars and hats on men?" followed by, "Why does everyone carry a bottle of water? Did those Commies poison our reservoirs?"
Well, we'd answer, bottled water is convenient. Also, water is good for you and bottled water is better for you than tap water. Not to mention that there's a lot of status involved taking a swig from your $20 bottle of Prix Eleve designer water, collected by hand in the Alps by an order of monks.
And, no, the Commies threw in the towel decades ago.
We'd be wrong on several counts. While it is healthy to stay hydrated, what we're drinking in a lot of cases is from the tap, sometimes filtered, sometimes not.
And the status factor has gone the way of bling.
Indeed, the popularity of bottled water is, in a word, evaporating.
Environmentalists loathe bottled water because they say nearly 90 percent of the bottles are not recycled and wind up in landfills where it takes thousands of years for the plastic to decompose.
Consumers, trying to survive a lousy economy, have come to realize that they're paying good money for something that can be had for free. Sales of reusable aluminum and stainless steel water bottles are up.
If that's not enough, some members of the religious community complain that clean drinking water, like air, is a God-given resource that shouldn't be packaged and sold.
Add it all up and you get bottled water sales that dropped in 2009 for the first time in five years. Yes, folks, bottled water is becoming the new cigarette.
We can trace this change of attitude to the Australian town of Bundanoon, a hamlet of about 2,500 south of Sydney. It seems the citizens there became angry a few years back when, according to published accounts, a beverage company announced plans to build a water extraction plant in town.
Residents faced the prospect of an outsider taking their water, sending it off to the big city for processing and then selling it back to them. The town became so incensed it voted to ban the end product.
About the same time, according to anti-bottle activists, "one of the dumbest moves in advertising history" occurred when high-end brand Fiji started a campaign intended to tout its water which is imported from the tropics.
The advertising copy read: "The label says Fiji because it's not bottled in Cleveland."
Well, the people of Cleveland, the victims of many slings and arrows over the years, did not take kindly to the campaign. So Cleveland Public Utilities director Julius Ciaccia had the local water tested against the bottled stuff. Fiji water had 6.31 micrograms of arsenic per liter; the city tap had zero. The company disputed the findings, but change was in the air.
The cities of Los Angeles, San Francisco, Santa Barbara and Salt Lake City have asked employees not to use bottled water or banned city spending on it. Chicago added a 5-cent tax to each bottle.
Famed California chef Alice Waters banned bottled water at her restaurant, Chez Panisse, according to a CNN report. In New York, celebrity chef Mario Batali's fanciest joint, Del Posto, banned the bottle. The idea became fashionable enough that an article in the online magazine Slate talked about the "reverse snob appeal" of tap water.
The irony of all this is that the largest consumers of bottled water are Americans, who need it the least. The great majority of our tap water meets EPA drinking-water standards, which regulate the levels of roughly 90 different contaminants, including germs such as giardia, heavy metals such as lead and dozens of industrial chemicals.
Like Hummers, 3-D TVs and infomercials, Americans are attracted to things they don't need. Bottled water is just another example.
Well, we'd answer, bottled water is convenient. Also, water is good for you and bottled water is better for you than tap water. Not to mention that there's a lot of status involved taking a swig from your $20 bottle of Prix Eleve designer water, collected by hand in the Alps by an order of monks.
And, no, the Commies threw in the towel decades ago.
We'd be wrong on several counts. While it is healthy to stay hydrated, what we're drinking in a lot of cases is from the tap, sometimes filtered, sometimes not.
And the status factor has gone the way of bling.
Indeed, the popularity of bottled water is, in a word, evaporating.
Environmentalists loathe bottled water because they say nearly 90 percent of the bottles are not recycled and wind up in landfills where it takes thousands of years for the plastic to decompose.
Consumers, trying to survive a lousy economy, have come to realize that they're paying good money for something that can be had for free. Sales of reusable aluminum and stainless steel water bottles are up.
If that's not enough, some members of the religious community complain that clean drinking water, like air, is a God-given resource that shouldn't be packaged and sold.
Add it all up and you get bottled water sales that dropped in 2009 for the first time in five years. Yes, folks, bottled water is becoming the new cigarette.
We can trace this change of attitude to the Australian town of Bundanoon, a hamlet of about 2,500 south of Sydney. It seems the citizens there became angry a few years back when, according to published accounts, a beverage company announced plans to build a water extraction plant in town.
Residents faced the prospect of an outsider taking their water, sending it off to the big city for processing and then selling it back to them. The town became so incensed it voted to ban the end product.
About the same time, according to anti-bottle activists, "one of the dumbest moves in advertising history" occurred when high-end brand Fiji started a campaign intended to tout its water which is imported from the tropics.
The advertising copy read: "The label says Fiji because it's not bottled in Cleveland."
Well, the people of Cleveland, the victims of many slings and arrows over the years, did not take kindly to the campaign. So Cleveland Public Utilities director Julius Ciaccia had the local water tested against the bottled stuff. Fiji water had 6.31 micrograms of arsenic per liter; the city tap had zero. The company disputed the findings, but change was in the air.
The cities of Los Angeles, San Francisco, Santa Barbara and Salt Lake City have asked employees not to use bottled water or banned city spending on it. Chicago added a 5-cent tax to each bottle.
Famed California chef Alice Waters banned bottled water at her restaurant, Chez Panisse, according to a CNN report. In New York, celebrity chef Mario Batali's fanciest joint, Del Posto, banned the bottle. The idea became fashionable enough that an article in the online magazine Slate talked about the "reverse snob appeal" of tap water.
The irony of all this is that the largest consumers of bottled water are Americans, who need it the least. The great majority of our tap water meets EPA drinking-water standards, which regulate the levels of roughly 90 different contaminants, including germs such as giardia, heavy metals such as lead and dozens of industrial chemicals.
Like Hummers, 3-D TVs and infomercials, Americans are attracted to things they don't need. Bottled water is just another example.
Thursday, August 05, 2010
In One Era and Out Another
I never set foot in Edward's Steak House, which recently closed after 64 years, first in downtown Los Angeles, then in El Monte.
But I feel I know it well.
It was one of those meat-and-potato neighborhood eateries with faux turn-of-the-century decor and a wait staff, bartenders and busboys who had been there for decades. We've all hung our hats in someplace like Edward's.
Quality of food? Not gourmet but good. The drinks were stiff and the menu was as familiar as your every-day china. No pheasant in a cabernet reduction with sesame encrusted baby carrots here. Steak or prime rib or, if you must, halibut. Straight up, please, salad with blue cheese and a baked potato.
It was a place where locals celebrated births, held wakes, marked anniversaries and retirements.
Edward's was preceded in death by Monty's Steak House in Pasadena, which kept the grill fired up for 66 years and even in its final days had a lot of clients who I think may have been there on opening night. Regulars say in the old days that if they didn't finish a steak, the house would offer to take it off the bill. It closed in 2007.
Chances are, there's a place just like them in a neighborhood near you. If so, enjoy it while you can.
Some see sinister forces at work when a beloved institution closes its doors. One patron commented that "It's a shame that Obama has wrecked this country to the point that my favorite restaurant has to close."
That's slicing the baloney a bit thick. No one questions that we are in the throes of a precarious economy but its causes are numerous and widespread.
The owners of Edward's claimed dining room business was down 25 percent. But they also blamed the fact that big businesses in the area have given way to export/import operations, and the local work force is now largely single mothers who bring sack lunches.
It's the "there goes the neighborhood" explanation and a nice way of saying the ethnic makeup has changed. While that may be true to some extent, you can't always blame demographics.
El Monte's population has grown by 45,000 since Edward's moved there in 1973. Top employers, according to the city's website, include Wells Fargo Bank (operation center), Longo Toyota-Lexus (automobile sales and service), Vons Co. (distribution warehouse) and Saint Gobain Glass Container.
Besides, some of the oldest and most popular restaurants in Los Angeles thrive in what can politely be described as distressed neighborhoods that have changed dramatically over time.
Langer's Deli at 7th and Alvarado has been serving pastrami for 63 years next to MacArthur Park. Phillipe's has been going strong since 1908 near Union Station. Musso and Frank opened in Hollywood in 1919. San Antonio Winery by the L.A. River has been around for some 90 years. The Pacific Dining Car on West 6th Street in Downtown L.A. has been serving since 1921. None of these locales are garden spots.
The fact is that Edward's and Monty's had been around for nearly three-quarters of a century. They survived when better-known places such as the Brown Derby and Chasen's and Little Joe's went dark. By anyone's yardstick, that's a remarkable achievement, especially in a business known for a high failure rate.
But nothing, especially the clientele, lasts forever. You attract new customers or die.
In addition, both establishments were independent restaurants, which are on the endangered species list, being pushed toward oblivion by a combination of hard times and the growth of chain operations.
According to one survey by the restaurant industry, the number of restaurants in the United States has fallen by 5,204 since 2009. Independent restaurants took the hardest hits, while chains kept their unit counts relatively stable.
Those independents have suffered sales and traffic declines as prolonged high unemployment has weakened consumer spending. But the chains survive because the revenue of those that thrive help support those that struggle.
That's why you'll rarely see a Burger King close up shop. Yet New York's iconic Tavern on the Green in Central Park and Fraunces Tavern, which dates back to 1762, have shut their doors.
It's the Franchising of America.
And with places like Edward's and Monty's gone, the one-size-fits-all steak can't be far behind.
But I feel I know it well.
It was one of those meat-and-potato neighborhood eateries with faux turn-of-the-century decor and a wait staff, bartenders and busboys who had been there for decades. We've all hung our hats in someplace like Edward's.
Quality of food? Not gourmet but good. The drinks were stiff and the menu was as familiar as your every-day china. No pheasant in a cabernet reduction with sesame encrusted baby carrots here. Steak or prime rib or, if you must, halibut. Straight up, please, salad with blue cheese and a baked potato.
It was a place where locals celebrated births, held wakes, marked anniversaries and retirements.
Edward's was preceded in death by Monty's Steak House in Pasadena, which kept the grill fired up for 66 years and even in its final days had a lot of clients who I think may have been there on opening night. Regulars say in the old days that if they didn't finish a steak, the house would offer to take it off the bill. It closed in 2007.
Chances are, there's a place just like them in a neighborhood near you. If so, enjoy it while you can.
Some see sinister forces at work when a beloved institution closes its doors. One patron commented that "It's a shame that Obama has wrecked this country to the point that my favorite restaurant has to close."
That's slicing the baloney a bit thick. No one questions that we are in the throes of a precarious economy but its causes are numerous and widespread.
The owners of Edward's claimed dining room business was down 25 percent. But they also blamed the fact that big businesses in the area have given way to export/import operations, and the local work force is now largely single mothers who bring sack lunches.
It's the "there goes the neighborhood" explanation and a nice way of saying the ethnic makeup has changed. While that may be true to some extent, you can't always blame demographics.
El Monte's population has grown by 45,000 since Edward's moved there in 1973. Top employers, according to the city's website, include Wells Fargo Bank (operation center), Longo Toyota-Lexus (automobile sales and service), Vons Co. (distribution warehouse) and Saint Gobain Glass Container.
Besides, some of the oldest and most popular restaurants in Los Angeles thrive in what can politely be described as distressed neighborhoods that have changed dramatically over time.
Langer's Deli at 7th and Alvarado has been serving pastrami for 63 years next to MacArthur Park. Phillipe's has been going strong since 1908 near Union Station. Musso and Frank opened in Hollywood in 1919. San Antonio Winery by the L.A. River has been around for some 90 years. The Pacific Dining Car on West 6th Street in Downtown L.A. has been serving since 1921. None of these locales are garden spots.
The fact is that Edward's and Monty's had been around for nearly three-quarters of a century. They survived when better-known places such as the Brown Derby and Chasen's and Little Joe's went dark. By anyone's yardstick, that's a remarkable achievement, especially in a business known for a high failure rate.
But nothing, especially the clientele, lasts forever. You attract new customers or die.
In addition, both establishments were independent restaurants, which are on the endangered species list, being pushed toward oblivion by a combination of hard times and the growth of chain operations.
According to one survey by the restaurant industry, the number of restaurants in the United States has fallen by 5,204 since 2009. Independent restaurants took the hardest hits, while chains kept their unit counts relatively stable.
Those independents have suffered sales and traffic declines as prolonged high unemployment has weakened consumer spending. But the chains survive because the revenue of those that thrive help support those that struggle.
That's why you'll rarely see a Burger King close up shop. Yet New York's iconic Tavern on the Green in Central Park and Fraunces Tavern, which dates back to 1762, have shut their doors.
It's the Franchising of America.
And with places like Edward's and Monty's gone, the one-size-fits-all steak can't be far behind.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Sacramento Sit-Com
I hate to keep harping on the antics of our elected officials in Sacramento. After all, there's enough buffoonery going on in Washington each and every day to fill the pages of this newspaper.
But the boys and girls in Sacramento seem to be starring in a political vaudeville act. Just recently, we've seen enough pie-in-the-face, seltzer-down-the-pants antics to keep us in stitches for weeks. I couldn't make this stuff up.
First, State Sen. Curren Price of Los Angeles proposes that the state could make a bundle of cash by requiring digital license plates that display advertising. In other words, turn every car and truck in the state into a rolling billboard.
Great idea. Of course, there's the distraction issue. Digital license plates would be a boon to body shops. And product placement could be dicey. Want the family sedan to hawk triple cheeseburgers from some fast food joint, or a sperm bank, or some political candidate you loathe? I didn't think so. But the last time I checked, this bill was still active.
Next up on stage is local Sen. Gloria Romero who wants to toss serpentine as the official state rock of California.
There are two questions here. One, how is it that we have an official state rock? And two, why does Sen. Romero want to get rid of it, symbolically speaking.
As to question No. 1, serpentine, a shiny, green and blue rock found throughout California, was named the official state rock in 1965. It contains
the state's principal deposits of chromite, magnesite, and cinnabar. California was the first state to designate a state rock, once again proving that we are on the cutting edge of civilized society.
It is not to be confused with benitoite which was designated as the official state gemstone in 1985.
California also has an official fossil (the saber toothed cat), a state grass (purple needlegrass), state reptile (the desert tortoise), state soil (San Joaquin soil), state theater (the Pasadena Playhouse) and state colors (blue and gold. Take that, Trojans).
As to question number two, serpentine has "known health effects," according to Romero's bill. And that's because chrysotile, a naturally occurring form of asbestos, can be found in it.
Some geologists say chrysotile is less harmful than other forms of asbestos and would be a danger only if its dust was inhaled repeatedly.
Malcolm Rose, a geologist who spent his career with the U.S. Geological Survey, told the New York Times that "there is no way anyone is going to get bothered by casual exposure to that kind of rock. Unless they were breaking it up with a sledgehammer year after year."
Critics of the legislation say that if the rock is removed from its state status, or declared a carcinogen, it could unleash myriad lawsuits against property owners and other sites where it is found.
Which leaves us to ponder the question: Is Sen. Romero protecting her constituents or instituting the Lawyers Full Employment Act?
Not to be outdone, Assemblyman Mike Davis is backing a plan to turn Michael Jackson's "Neverland Ranch" in Santa Barbara County into a state park.
The idea is the brainchild of NAACP president Alice Huffman, who also sits on the state parks commission. "I think Michael's history is world history and I think it would become the No. 1 attraction for the state parks if we could pull it off," said Huffman.
Put aside for a moment your feelings about Michael Jackson, his fans, Neverland's checkered past or the fact Ms. Huffman thinks it would outdraw all the other state parks (Old Town San Diego State Historic Park has attracted nearly 8 million visitors annually).
Instead, consider this: The property is controlled by Santa Monica-based Colony Capitol LCC, a private equity firm that acquired it when Jackson was facing foreclosure in 2008. The company President Thomas J. Barrack Jr. told Bloomberg News last month that he hoped to sell it for more than $100 million.
Last year, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger proposed closing 220 of California's 279 state parks to save money, but later backed down. Instead, he and lawmakers agreed to close half the parks on certain days and reduce services.
The state budget deficit is $26 billion. Is this the time to introduce a plan that would cost taxpayers more than $100 million? Mike Davis does. He said the plan makes "great sense."
It's no wonder people in other states think we're nuts.
But the boys and girls in Sacramento seem to be starring in a political vaudeville act. Just recently, we've seen enough pie-in-the-face, seltzer-down-the-pants antics to keep us in stitches for weeks. I couldn't make this stuff up.
First, State Sen. Curren Price of Los Angeles proposes that the state could make a bundle of cash by requiring digital license plates that display advertising. In other words, turn every car and truck in the state into a rolling billboard.
Great idea. Of course, there's the distraction issue. Digital license plates would be a boon to body shops. And product placement could be dicey. Want the family sedan to hawk triple cheeseburgers from some fast food joint, or a sperm bank, or some political candidate you loathe? I didn't think so. But the last time I checked, this bill was still active.
Next up on stage is local Sen. Gloria Romero who wants to toss serpentine as the official state rock of California.
There are two questions here. One, how is it that we have an official state rock? And two, why does Sen. Romero want to get rid of it, symbolically speaking.
As to question No. 1, serpentine, a shiny, green and blue rock found throughout California, was named the official state rock in 1965. It contains
the state's principal deposits of chromite, magnesite, and cinnabar. California was the first state to designate a state rock, once again proving that we are on the cutting edge of civilized society.
It is not to be confused with benitoite which was designated as the official state gemstone in 1985.
California also has an official fossil (the saber toothed cat), a state grass (purple needlegrass), state reptile (the desert tortoise), state soil (San Joaquin soil), state theater (the Pasadena Playhouse) and state colors (blue and gold. Take that, Trojans).
As to question number two, serpentine has "known health effects," according to Romero's bill. And that's because chrysotile, a naturally occurring form of asbestos, can be found in it.
Some geologists say chrysotile is less harmful than other forms of asbestos and would be a danger only if its dust was inhaled repeatedly.
Malcolm Rose, a geologist who spent his career with the U.S. Geological Survey, told the New York Times that "there is no way anyone is going to get bothered by casual exposure to that kind of rock. Unless they were breaking it up with a sledgehammer year after year."
Critics of the legislation say that if the rock is removed from its state status, or declared a carcinogen, it could unleash myriad lawsuits against property owners and other sites where it is found.
Which leaves us to ponder the question: Is Sen. Romero protecting her constituents or instituting the Lawyers Full Employment Act?
Not to be outdone, Assemblyman Mike Davis is backing a plan to turn Michael Jackson's "Neverland Ranch" in Santa Barbara County into a state park.
The idea is the brainchild of NAACP president Alice Huffman, who also sits on the state parks commission. "I think Michael's history is world history and I think it would become the No. 1 attraction for the state parks if we could pull it off," said Huffman.
Put aside for a moment your feelings about Michael Jackson, his fans, Neverland's checkered past or the fact Ms. Huffman thinks it would outdraw all the other state parks (Old Town San Diego State Historic Park has attracted nearly 8 million visitors annually).
Instead, consider this: The property is controlled by Santa Monica-based Colony Capitol LCC, a private equity firm that acquired it when Jackson was facing foreclosure in 2008. The company President Thomas J. Barrack Jr. told Bloomberg News last month that he hoped to sell it for more than $100 million.
Last year, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger proposed closing 220 of California's 279 state parks to save money, but later backed down. Instead, he and lawmakers agreed to close half the parks on certain days and reduce services.
The state budget deficit is $26 billion. Is this the time to introduce a plan that would cost taxpayers more than $100 million? Mike Davis does. He said the plan makes "great sense."
It's no wonder people in other states think we're nuts.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Nil on the Pitch
I have tried to love soccer. I truly have.
My youngest played the game from kindergarten through her senior year in high school. I never missed a game.
I drove vanpools, attended practices, coached, officiated, put up the nets, lined the fields and cleaned up when the games were done. I praised her in victory, consoled her in defeat, cheered and booed. I was, proudly, a Soccer Dad.
So much for my bona fides. I still maintain a mild interest in the sport, which usually surfaces once every four years during the World Cup.
But take my daughter or my country out of the equation, and I'd just as soon watch the Best of Synchronized Swimming.
I am willing to concede soccer is the most popular sport in the world, revered in every nook and cranny of the planet.
What I will not concede is that its lack of popularity in the United States is the result of some sort of national character flaw, or isolationism, or indifference, or, heaven help us, as one essay concluded, because we hate foreigners. We are, after all, a nation of foreigners.
Nor do I agree with an assessment that appeared in the Times recently written by author Ariel Dorfman: "... We are living a moment in history when the very notion of American exceptionalism is under siege," he wrote. "If the United States were indeed to abandon the idea that it has been chosen by God to save the world, if its citizens were to really entertain the notion that they are just the same as humans all over the globe and not uniquely endowed with shining virtue, could they not someday join the rest of the species in celebrating the most beautiful sport of our time?"
It's only sporting to point out Mr. Dorfman was at one point in his life cultural advisor to Marxist President Salvador Allende of Chile. He is also a critic of what he calls "North American cultural imperialism." Just to frame his argument.
Look, soccer had its chance. The first recorded soccer club formed in the U.S. was the Oneida Football Club, which played on Boston Common from 1862-1865. It was played at Eastern colleges at the turn of the 20th century.
But as baseball, football and basketball evolved in the early days of American sport, soccer was left behind.
We developed our own sports, just as we developed our own system of government.
This was a young, vibrant, proud country. This was the land of Teddy Roosevelt. Carl Sandberg, writing about Chicago, could have very well been describing the entire country: "Hog butcher for the world, tool maker, stacker of wheat, player with railroads ... stormy, husky, brawling ..."
This was no country for a sport in which, according to Jim Murray, "twenty-one guys stand around and one guy does a tap dance with the ball."
Watch soccer and you watch a game that allows a 0-0 tie. Americans hate a tie. This is not a demonstration of skill. It demonstrates a lack of skill.
Let's face it, soccer is boring. I'd rather Bust It Like the Babe than Bend It Like Beckham.
Watch soccer and you watch a game that allows players to flop around on the ground like beached fish, feigning injury. Faking it to gain some sort of advantage is about as far from good sportsmanship as you can get.
I once saw a video of a soccer team standing in a circle around their coach at practice. When he blew his whistle, they fell to the ground en masse, writhing in simulated pain. It may have been a joke but it had its roots in truth. Soccer offers the worst acting this side of Keanu Reeves.
Watch soccer and you see inept officials calling big games on the world stage. The apologies for bad officiating in this year's World Cup almost exceeded the number of goals scored. Instant replay? Not an option. Too American, I guess.
Watch soccer but watch out for hooligans who make Raider followers look like bird watchers.
Watch soccer and you see a game populated by players who often use one name. Spain has a player who is simply called Pedro. That must strike fear into the hearts of his opponents.
Give me Dick "Night Train" Lane, "Crazy Legs" Hirsch or Red Grange, "the Galloping Ghost." Now, those are names.
Watch soccer and you see teams called the Wanderers, Caledonian Thistle or Chivas, which in Spanish means "goats." Give me the Heat, the Giants, the Bulls, the Steelers.
Watch soccer if you wish. I'll be at the Rose Bowl or Dodger Stadium or Staples Center.
My youngest played the game from kindergarten through her senior year in high school. I never missed a game.
I drove vanpools, attended practices, coached, officiated, put up the nets, lined the fields and cleaned up when the games were done. I praised her in victory, consoled her in defeat, cheered and booed. I was, proudly, a Soccer Dad.
So much for my bona fides. I still maintain a mild interest in the sport, which usually surfaces once every four years during the World Cup.
But take my daughter or my country out of the equation, and I'd just as soon watch the Best of Synchronized Swimming.
I am willing to concede soccer is the most popular sport in the world, revered in every nook and cranny of the planet.
What I will not concede is that its lack of popularity in the United States is the result of some sort of national character flaw, or isolationism, or indifference, or, heaven help us, as one essay concluded, because we hate foreigners. We are, after all, a nation of foreigners.
Nor do I agree with an assessment that appeared in the Times recently written by author Ariel Dorfman: "... We are living a moment in history when the very notion of American exceptionalism is under siege," he wrote. "If the United States were indeed to abandon the idea that it has been chosen by God to save the world, if its citizens were to really entertain the notion that they are just the same as humans all over the globe and not uniquely endowed with shining virtue, could they not someday join the rest of the species in celebrating the most beautiful sport of our time?"
It's only sporting to point out Mr. Dorfman was at one point in his life cultural advisor to Marxist President Salvador Allende of Chile. He is also a critic of what he calls "North American cultural imperialism." Just to frame his argument.
Look, soccer had its chance. The first recorded soccer club formed in the U.S. was the Oneida Football Club, which played on Boston Common from 1862-1865. It was played at Eastern colleges at the turn of the 20th century.
But as baseball, football and basketball evolved in the early days of American sport, soccer was left behind.
We developed our own sports, just as we developed our own system of government.
This was a young, vibrant, proud country. This was the land of Teddy Roosevelt. Carl Sandberg, writing about Chicago, could have very well been describing the entire country: "Hog butcher for the world, tool maker, stacker of wheat, player with railroads ... stormy, husky, brawling ..."
This was no country for a sport in which, according to Jim Murray, "twenty-one guys stand around and one guy does a tap dance with the ball."
Watch soccer and you watch a game that allows a 0-0 tie. Americans hate a tie. This is not a demonstration of skill. It demonstrates a lack of skill.
Let's face it, soccer is boring. I'd rather Bust It Like the Babe than Bend It Like Beckham.
Watch soccer and you watch a game that allows players to flop around on the ground like beached fish, feigning injury. Faking it to gain some sort of advantage is about as far from good sportsmanship as you can get.
I once saw a video of a soccer team standing in a circle around their coach at practice. When he blew his whistle, they fell to the ground en masse, writhing in simulated pain. It may have been a joke but it had its roots in truth. Soccer offers the worst acting this side of Keanu Reeves.
Watch soccer and you see inept officials calling big games on the world stage. The apologies for bad officiating in this year's World Cup almost exceeded the number of goals scored. Instant replay? Not an option. Too American, I guess.
Watch soccer but watch out for hooligans who make Raider followers look like bird watchers.
Watch soccer and you see a game populated by players who often use one name. Spain has a player who is simply called Pedro. That must strike fear into the hearts of his opponents.
Give me Dick "Night Train" Lane, "Crazy Legs" Hirsch or Red Grange, "the Galloping Ghost." Now, those are names.
Watch soccer and you see teams called the Wanderers, Caledonian Thistle or Chivas, which in Spanish means "goats." Give me the Heat, the Giants, the Bulls, the Steelers.
Watch soccer if you wish. I'll be at the Rose Bowl or Dodger Stadium or Staples Center.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Ads Nauseum
It’s that time of year in Sacramento when our elected representatives
grapple with the state budget, an activity that can best be compared
to the Crusades.
This Holy War pits Democrats versus Republicans, who each try to
hammer each other into submission while believing God and Good are on
their side.
Ultimately, nobody wins. The two sides pick up their wounded and live
to disagree another day.
This year, in addition to the usual ideological stalemate, there’s a
$26 billion deficit on the table, forcing the state to desperately
seek new revenue-generating ideas.
Gov. Schwarzenegger, seizing the moment, has set up a Twitter site,
MyIdea4CA.com., that allows us all to join in the search.
A few recent entries: “More $ for higher education; less for pseudo
system of capital punishment.” “Legalize and tax marijuana. End the
war that does more harm than good.” “California has the worst
representation and the highest cost of government. There is a
correlation!”
“My idea is to give people cash incentives to move to other states.”
“$1 toll for all persons entering the state. Toll booths at I-5,
I-80, I-15, I-10, and charge airlines.” “Don't have a film school at
UC Berkeley ,at UCSD and another one at UCLA. Eliminate duplication.
Centralize.”
Noble sentiments, deeply felt, but I don’t see a billion dollar idea
in there.
All is not lost, however. Riding to the rescue is Democratic State
Sen. Curren Price of Los Angeles.
Sen. Price is proposing that the state could make a bundle of cash by
requiring digital license plates that display advertising.
It’s brilliant in its simplicity. Turn every car and truck in the
state of California into a moving billboard. Why didn’t I think of
that?
Price has introduced a bill that would allow the state to begin
researching the use of electronic license plates that would mimic a
standard plate when the vehicle is in motion but would switch to
digital ads or other messages when it is stopped for more than four
seconds, whether in traffic or at a red light.
The license plate number would remain visible at all times in some
section of the screen. In emergencies, the plates could be used to
broadcast Amber Alerts or traffic information.
"We're just trying to find creative ways of generating additional
revenues," Price told the Associated Press. "It's an exciting
marriage of technology with need, and an opportunity to keep
California in the forefront."
I can hear the police dispatcher now: “Attention all units. Be on the
lookout for a stolen vehicle with a license plate frame advertising
Tidy Bowl.”
Come to think of it, product placement could be a knotty problem. Do
you want your car to flash “Viagra” every time you hit the brakes. Or
pitch mortgage lenders? Or Scientology? Or strip clubs?
How about a Meg Whitman ad on a Democrat’s car. How would a
Republican feel about having “Re-elect Nancy Pelosi” blinking from
the rear of the family sedan?
Of course, in California, if our ballots are any indication, the ads
would have to be offered in every known language from Arabic to Zuni.
And no self-respecting advertiser is going to be satisfied with a
15-second spot. He’s going to want a full minute or more. No problem.
We’ll just adjust the signals to stay red longer. Just remember as
your blood pressure rises that it’s your civic duty to help fill the
state coffers.
Then there’s the problem of hackers. I read where a group of jokers
changed one of those computerized electronic warning signs on a Texas
highway to read, “Zombies Ahead. Run for Your Lives.” Which is funny
unless the sign originally read “Bridge Out Ahead.”
Speaking of safety, do you think flashing signs on cars would boost
the accident rate substantially? It’s a body and fender man’s dream.
Nice try, Sen. Price. Why don’t you push that toll booth idea instead?
grapple with the state budget, an activity that can best be compared
to the Crusades.
This Holy War pits Democrats versus Republicans, who each try to
hammer each other into submission while believing God and Good are on
their side.
Ultimately, nobody wins. The two sides pick up their wounded and live
to disagree another day.
This year, in addition to the usual ideological stalemate, there’s a
$26 billion deficit on the table, forcing the state to desperately
seek new revenue-generating ideas.
Gov. Schwarzenegger, seizing the moment, has set up a Twitter site,
MyIdea4CA.com., that allows us all to join in the search.
A few recent entries: “More $ for higher education; less for pseudo
system of capital punishment.” “Legalize and tax marijuana. End the
war that does more harm than good.” “California has the worst
representation and the highest cost of government. There is a
correlation!”
“My idea is to give people cash incentives to move to other states.”
“$1 toll for all persons entering the state. Toll booths at I-5,
I-80, I-15, I-10, and charge airlines.” “Don't have a film school at
UC Berkeley ,at UCSD and another one at UCLA. Eliminate duplication.
Centralize.”
Noble sentiments, deeply felt, but I don’t see a billion dollar idea
in there.
All is not lost, however. Riding to the rescue is Democratic State
Sen. Curren Price of Los Angeles.
Sen. Price is proposing that the state could make a bundle of cash by
requiring digital license plates that display advertising.
It’s brilliant in its simplicity. Turn every car and truck in the
state of California into a moving billboard. Why didn’t I think of
that?
Price has introduced a bill that would allow the state to begin
researching the use of electronic license plates that would mimic a
standard plate when the vehicle is in motion but would switch to
digital ads or other messages when it is stopped for more than four
seconds, whether in traffic or at a red light.
The license plate number would remain visible at all times in some
section of the screen. In emergencies, the plates could be used to
broadcast Amber Alerts or traffic information.
"We're just trying to find creative ways of generating additional
revenues," Price told the Associated Press. "It's an exciting
marriage of technology with need, and an opportunity to keep
California in the forefront."
I can hear the police dispatcher now: “Attention all units. Be on the
lookout for a stolen vehicle with a license plate frame advertising
Tidy Bowl.”
Come to think of it, product placement could be a knotty problem. Do
you want your car to flash “Viagra” every time you hit the brakes. Or
pitch mortgage lenders? Or Scientology? Or strip clubs?
How about a Meg Whitman ad on a Democrat’s car. How would a
Republican feel about having “Re-elect Nancy Pelosi” blinking from
the rear of the family sedan?
Of course, in California, if our ballots are any indication, the ads
would have to be offered in every known language from Arabic to Zuni.
And no self-respecting advertiser is going to be satisfied with a
15-second spot. He’s going to want a full minute or more. No problem.
We’ll just adjust the signals to stay red longer. Just remember as
your blood pressure rises that it’s your civic duty to help fill the
state coffers.
Then there’s the problem of hackers. I read where a group of jokers
changed one of those computerized electronic warning signs on a Texas
highway to read, “Zombies Ahead. Run for Your Lives.” Which is funny
unless the sign originally read “Bridge Out Ahead.”
Speaking of safety, do you think flashing signs on cars would boost
the accident rate substantially? It’s a body and fender man’s dream.
Nice try, Sen. Price. Why don’t you push that toll booth idea instead?
Sunday, June 20, 2010
A License to Silence
There's a new addition to the list of really bad ideas, joining such favorites as leisure suits, wine in a box and football stadiums in the city of Industry.
This one comes from a Michigan lawmaker who wants to register journalists to ensure, among other things, that they possess "good moral character."
Republican state Sen. Bruce Patterson recently introduced a bill that would require everyone from bureau chiefs to bloggers to possess a journalism degree or other degrees substantially equivalent.
In addition, they would:
Have not less than three years experience as a reporter or any other relevant background information.
Possess awards or recognition related to being a reporter.
Submit three or more writing samples.
And as an added incentive, those who register would have to pay a fee.
Forget about the fact that Patterson, who describes himself as a "constitutional attorney," is engaged in a bit of academic self-loathing. After all, the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States prohibits the making of any law infringing on the freedom of speech or freedom of the press.
Forget the fact that a politician has the temerity to claim the moral high ground and sit in judgment of others.
Forget that there are libel laws and the court of public opinion to hold journalists in check.
Forget that I would qualify to cover Mr. Patterson, depending on who is deciding the
Advertisement "good moral character" question.
This proposed legislation is wrong on so many levels.
OK, I can hear you asking, we register barbers, plumbers and cab drivers. Why not reporters?
First and foremost, it would be open to abuses that go far beyond a bad haircut or a leaky pipe.
Simply put, it would give a government the tools to silence those who are critical of it by denying or revoking their "license." And when it comes to covering politics, no news is bad news.
Think that's far fetched?
Remember Richard Nixon's "Enemies List?" It was populated by a considerable number of reporters and editors. Less subtle but equally Draconian were the rulers of Communist Romania, who registered and licensed typewriters, to be confiscated if the writer offended the government.
Then there's that "moral character" issue. Whose moral character is the benchmark? John Wooden? Or Tiger Woods? And who is applying that standard? As Oscar Wilde once said, "Morality is simply the attitude we adopt toward people whom we personally dislike."
Journalism degrees? In my last editing stop at the Pasadena Star-News, my top reporters had degrees in history, rhetoric, law and divinity. It didn't seem to be a hindrance.
To give Mr. Patterson his due, the journalistic landscape is a lot more confounding than it used to be. In addition to the mainstream press, there are myriad bloggers, tweeters, Facebookers and other "citizen journalists" at work.
Do an Internet search on Barack Obama or Sarah Palin or Manny Ramirez and you'll find thousands of articles written from dozens of perspectives. It's soap box oratory gone electronic.
But it apparently has confused Patterson.
"What's the definition of a reporter? I haven't been able to find out? What's a reporter? What's a journalist?" he asked. "I thought you had to have a degree in journalism, but apparently not. I could retire and be a journalist."
You could, Mr. Patterson, but after this bit of legislative sleight of hand, I doubt if you'd get a lot of job offers.
I've got a better idea. Instead of registering journalists, let's register politicians.
Let's require them to be of high moral character, although Eliot Spitzer, Mark Sanford, Bill Clinton and Larry Craig might have trouble making the cut.
Let's require them to have a degree in ethics or the equivalent.
Let's have them submit three samples of intelligent legislation, free from lobbyist influence and back-room deal making.
Let's require transparency.
If we adopted those standards, there would be no need to muzzle journalists.
This one comes from a Michigan lawmaker who wants to register journalists to ensure, among other things, that they possess "good moral character."
Republican state Sen. Bruce Patterson recently introduced a bill that would require everyone from bureau chiefs to bloggers to possess a journalism degree or other degrees substantially equivalent.
In addition, they would:
Have not less than three years experience as a reporter or any other relevant background information.
Possess awards or recognition related to being a reporter.
Submit three or more writing samples.
And as an added incentive, those who register would have to pay a fee.
Forget about the fact that Patterson, who describes himself as a "constitutional attorney," is engaged in a bit of academic self-loathing. After all, the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States prohibits the making of any law infringing on the freedom of speech or freedom of the press.
Forget the fact that a politician has the temerity to claim the moral high ground and sit in judgment of others.
Forget that there are libel laws and the court of public opinion to hold journalists in check.
Forget that I would qualify to cover Mr. Patterson, depending on who is deciding the
Advertisement "good moral character" question.
This proposed legislation is wrong on so many levels.
OK, I can hear you asking, we register barbers, plumbers and cab drivers. Why not reporters?
First and foremost, it would be open to abuses that go far beyond a bad haircut or a leaky pipe.
Simply put, it would give a government the tools to silence those who are critical of it by denying or revoking their "license." And when it comes to covering politics, no news is bad news.
Think that's far fetched?
Remember Richard Nixon's "Enemies List?" It was populated by a considerable number of reporters and editors. Less subtle but equally Draconian were the rulers of Communist Romania, who registered and licensed typewriters, to be confiscated if the writer offended the government.
Then there's that "moral character" issue. Whose moral character is the benchmark? John Wooden? Or Tiger Woods? And who is applying that standard? As Oscar Wilde once said, "Morality is simply the attitude we adopt toward people whom we personally dislike."
Journalism degrees? In my last editing stop at the Pasadena Star-News, my top reporters had degrees in history, rhetoric, law and divinity. It didn't seem to be a hindrance.
To give Mr. Patterson his due, the journalistic landscape is a lot more confounding than it used to be. In addition to the mainstream press, there are myriad bloggers, tweeters, Facebookers and other "citizen journalists" at work.
Do an Internet search on Barack Obama or Sarah Palin or Manny Ramirez and you'll find thousands of articles written from dozens of perspectives. It's soap box oratory gone electronic.
But it apparently has confused Patterson.
"What's the definition of a reporter? I haven't been able to find out? What's a reporter? What's a journalist?" he asked. "I thought you had to have a degree in journalism, but apparently not. I could retire and be a journalist."
You could, Mr. Patterson, but after this bit of legislative sleight of hand, I doubt if you'd get a lot of job offers.
I've got a better idea. Instead of registering journalists, let's register politicians.
Let's require them to be of high moral character, although Eliot Spitzer, Mark Sanford, Bill Clinton and Larry Craig might have trouble making the cut.
Let's require them to have a degree in ethics or the equivalent.
Let's have them submit three samples of intelligent legislation, free from lobbyist influence and back-room deal making.
Let's require transparency.
If we adopted those standards, there would be no need to muzzle journalists.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
A Day for Dragon Slayers
Small boy's definition of Father's Day: “It's just like Mother's Day
only you don't spend so much." (Author unknown).
Another father’s day is coming. I greet it with mixed feelings.
I’ve kept a great many of the cards I received from my daughters on
Father’s Day over the years. Most of them poke gentle humor at me for
my fix-it skills, TV viewing habits or availability for light
housework.
Fair enough. I’m not exactly a hearts-and-flowers guy.
Besides, some of the sentiments are based in fact. I once severed the water line
running from the street to the house while attempting to fix a
sprinkler, flooding the entire yard. The neighbors still yell “surf’s
up” when they see me coming.
The guys at the hardware store know me on a first-name basis. I’m
Bob, the guy who needs a combination internal pipe wrench and wiz
snips with a left handed tongue and groove attachment and carbon
steel forceps so I can hang a towel rack.
I’ll watch any sports on TV, even leg wrestling from Turkestan where
the winner receives a goat.
I’m not sure of the exact location of the vacuum cleaner in our house and the controls on our new washing
machine look to me like those on a F-16 fighter/bomber.
Despite these shortcomings, once a year I’m Dear Old Dad. Over time,
I’ve gotten dozens of ties, gallons of after shave and enough soap on
a rope to scrub down the U.S.S. Missouri.
And each time, I received them with expressions of joy which, truth be told, are honestly felt.
I couldn’t help noticing, however, that on Mother’s Day, my wife
receives flowers, multiple expressions of love that make her teary
eyed all capped with an expensive champagne brunch or dinner at some
place where the menus don’t have prices.
On Father’s Day, I’m sent out to slave over a hot barbecue which, as
a matter of survival, necessitates the ingestion of cold beer.
Also fair enough. Moms deserve all the attention. They are the
nurturers, the huggers, the comforters, the ones that care and feed
for us all.
Men are the dragon slayers, the ones who defend the cave, not to
mention change the oil, move the furniture, kill the spiders and
unclog the toilet.
It’s in our biological makeup to be this way, just like we can’t help
growing beards and grilling meat.
It wasn’t long ago that we were hunter/gatherers who went out with a
spear and brought home the evening meal slung over our massive, hairy
shoulders.
Nothing says love like a sweaty guy with dirt under his nails.
But, heck yes, we deserve a day. In fact, it wasn’t easy getting one.
Mother’s Day in this country officially dates back to 1914. But while
it was met with enthusiasm, the suggestion of a Father's Day was
often met with laughter, according to several historical accounts.
It was the target of much satire, parody and derision, sort of like
National Accordion Month is now. Shockingly, many saw it as the first
step in filling the calendar with mindless promotions.
A bill to accord national recognition of the holiday was introduced
in Congress in 1913. But our elected officials resisted, fearing that
it would become commercialized.
Wikipedia, the sometimes reliable online encyclopedia, reports that
President Calvin Coolidge recommended in 1924 that the day be
observed by the nation, but stopped short of issuing a national
proclamation.
In 1957, Maine Senator Margaret Chase Smith wrote a proposal accusing
Congress of ignoring fathers for 40 years while honoring mothers,
thus "singling out just one of our two parents. " To no avail.
In 1966, President Lyndon Johnson issued the first presidential
proclamation honoring fathers, designating the third Sunday in June
as Father's Day.
Finally, the day was made a permanent national holiday when that
go-to guy Richard Nixon who signed it into law in 1972.
One other historical note: More phone calls are made in the United
States during Mother's Day than during Father's Day, but the
percentage of collect calls on Father's Day is much higher.
Best definition of a Dad? “A father carries pictures where his money
used to be.”
only you don't spend so much." (Author unknown).
Another father’s day is coming. I greet it with mixed feelings.
I’ve kept a great many of the cards I received from my daughters on
Father’s Day over the years. Most of them poke gentle humor at me for
my fix-it skills, TV viewing habits or availability for light
housework.
Fair enough. I’m not exactly a hearts-and-flowers guy.
Besides, some of the sentiments are based in fact. I once severed the water line
running from the street to the house while attempting to fix a
sprinkler, flooding the entire yard. The neighbors still yell “surf’s
up” when they see me coming.
The guys at the hardware store know me on a first-name basis. I’m
Bob, the guy who needs a combination internal pipe wrench and wiz
snips with a left handed tongue and groove attachment and carbon
steel forceps so I can hang a towel rack.
I’ll watch any sports on TV, even leg wrestling from Turkestan where
the winner receives a goat.
I’m not sure of the exact location of the vacuum cleaner in our house and the controls on our new washing
machine look to me like those on a F-16 fighter/bomber.
Despite these shortcomings, once a year I’m Dear Old Dad. Over time,
I’ve gotten dozens of ties, gallons of after shave and enough soap on
a rope to scrub down the U.S.S. Missouri.
And each time, I received them with expressions of joy which, truth be told, are honestly felt.
I couldn’t help noticing, however, that on Mother’s Day, my wife
receives flowers, multiple expressions of love that make her teary
eyed all capped with an expensive champagne brunch or dinner at some
place where the menus don’t have prices.
On Father’s Day, I’m sent out to slave over a hot barbecue which, as
a matter of survival, necessitates the ingestion of cold beer.
Also fair enough. Moms deserve all the attention. They are the
nurturers, the huggers, the comforters, the ones that care and feed
for us all.
Men are the dragon slayers, the ones who defend the cave, not to
mention change the oil, move the furniture, kill the spiders and
unclog the toilet.
It’s in our biological makeup to be this way, just like we can’t help
growing beards and grilling meat.
It wasn’t long ago that we were hunter/gatherers who went out with a
spear and brought home the evening meal slung over our massive, hairy
shoulders.
Nothing says love like a sweaty guy with dirt under his nails.
But, heck yes, we deserve a day. In fact, it wasn’t easy getting one.
Mother’s Day in this country officially dates back to 1914. But while
it was met with enthusiasm, the suggestion of a Father's Day was
often met with laughter, according to several historical accounts.
It was the target of much satire, parody and derision, sort of like
National Accordion Month is now. Shockingly, many saw it as the first
step in filling the calendar with mindless promotions.
A bill to accord national recognition of the holiday was introduced
in Congress in 1913. But our elected officials resisted, fearing that
it would become commercialized.
Wikipedia, the sometimes reliable online encyclopedia, reports that
President Calvin Coolidge recommended in 1924 that the day be
observed by the nation, but stopped short of issuing a national
proclamation.
In 1957, Maine Senator Margaret Chase Smith wrote a proposal accusing
Congress of ignoring fathers for 40 years while honoring mothers,
thus "singling out just one of our two parents. " To no avail.
In 1966, President Lyndon Johnson issued the first presidential
proclamation honoring fathers, designating the third Sunday in June
as Father's Day.
Finally, the day was made a permanent national holiday when that
go-to guy Richard Nixon who signed it into law in 1972.
One other historical note: More phone calls are made in the United
States during Mother's Day than during Father's Day, but the
percentage of collect calls on Father's Day is much higher.
Best definition of a Dad? “A father carries pictures where his money
used to be.”
Monday, June 07, 2010
Congratulations, Grads And Other Lies
Congratulations to the graduates of the Class of 2010.
So much for the platitudes. I've got some good news and bad news for you.
The good news: There are more jobs available than last year. The bad news: Last year was the worst year for college grads since the Great Depression.
Of 2010 graduates who actively applied for work, 24 percent have a job waiting for them post-graduation. This is up almost 5 percentage points from last year when only 19 percent of graduates submitting resumes and applications scored direct employment.
At this rate, we'll crack that 30percent barrier in another 10 years, leaving only 70 percent of our college grads unemployed.
And pay? Salaries for finance majors rose 1.6 percent to $50,546, while those for liberal arts majors fell 8.9 percent to $33,540. Oh, the humanities!
There are other options, like the Peace Corps or the Marine Corps. Either way, the pay is lousy but you'll develop a unique perspective on the world.
Not for you? You can always move back home. The U.S. Census estimated in 2008 that 5 million Americans aged 25 to 35 are living with their parents. Talk about social networking opportunities.
Before you slip into a funk, however, know this: That degree, unless it was in Albanian literature, will mean you won't face a life with a spatula in your hand. The job market is ultimately a lot more rewarding for college grads than it is to those without a degree.
Advertisement
More important, you will join an army of famous people whose first experience with the real world was rejection. Consider:
The Museum of Modern Art in New York rejected a young Andy Warhol's gift of a drawing due to "severely limited gallery and storage space."
The writers of the screenplay for "Casablanca" were told that their work wouldn't make the cut because it was "unacceptably sex suggestive."
Marilyn Monroe, who in 1947, after one year under contract, was dropped by 20th Century Fox because "you haven't got the sort of looks that make a movie star."
Walt Disney's first cartoon production company went bankrupt.
Edgar Allan Poe was expelled first from the University of Virginia, then from West Point.
Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team.
J.K Rowling's original Harry Potter manuscript was rejected 12 times.
Thirty-eight publishers didn't give a damn about Margaret Mitchell's "Gone With the Wind."
And if you've got a diploma in hand, you've got a leg up on Bill Gates, founder of Microsoft; Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple Computers; David Geffen, co-founder of Dreamworks, SKG; Larry Ellison, founder of the database company Oracle; William Hanna of the cartoon producers Hanna-Barbera; Sheldon Adelson, real estate and casino owner; Jack Taylor, founder of Enterprise Rent-A-Car.
All of them were college dropouts. And all of them are billionaires.
And just in case your aspirations lead you in a different direction, add to that list Mexican drug lord Joaqu n Guzm n Loera or Dawood Ibrahim, head of an organized crime and terror syndicate in South Asia. Both are worth big bucks.
I'll leave you with a few inspirational quotes as you start your journey:
"A graduation ceremony is an event where the commencement speaker tells thousands of students dressed in identical caps and gowns that individuality is the key to success." (Robert Orben).
"Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else." (Judy Garland).
"Excellence is not a skill. It is an attitude." (Ralph Marston)
"Try not. Do or do not. There is no try." (Yoda)
And my two favorites:
"Be as bold as the first man or woman to eat an oyster." (Shirley Chisholm)
"The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit." (Nelson He
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
The Mud People
Faced with politicians who would rather destroy each other than save the state, we the people will once again trudge to the poles to seek redemption.
It wasn't that long ago that we mustered all our political wisdom and picked an Austrian body builder as our champion. Not surprisingly, we got biceps instead of brains, a Grade B performer whose on-screen heroics were no match for real-life issues.
Note to self: When an office seeker launches his campaign from the yuk factory that is the "The Tonight Show With Jay Leno" be very afraid.
So who now? Democrats are looking down the barrel of a shotgun wedding with Jerry Brown. Republicans get to choose between Meg Whitman and Steve Poizner, who seem intent on defining themselves by slinging mud.
To hear tell, here are our choices:
Meg Whitman, the former CEO of eBay, is a billionaire trying to buy her way into the governor's mansion and tried to bully Poizner out of the contest.
Her tenure at eBay was highlighted by the creation of a special site for the sale of pornography and sex paraphernalia.
She was involved with the controversial Wall Street firm Goldman Sachs and received sweetheart stock deals so unethical they were outlawed.
She refused to vote Republican for 28 years, is soft on illegal immigration, supports taxpayer funding of abortions and is, in fact, a closet liberal who supported Sen. Barbara Boxer.
Steve Poizner is way more liberal than he says he is.
He attempted to undercut Proposition 13, the 1978 ballot initiative that has kept property taxes in check. During the state budget crisis, Poizner, former treasurer, increased his department's spending by nearly 14 percent.When the governor requested furloughing some state employees, Poizner was the only Republican to stand in opposition, siding with public employee unions and liberal Democrats.
Poizner gave $10,000 to help Al Gore try to win the 2000 presidential election which calls his conservative credentials into question.
None of the preceding is necessarily true, of course, but this is all we hear when the two leading candidates are engaged in an all-out assault on each other.
The truth, as determined by a number of political fact checking websites, is far less sexy.
Whitman is indeed very wealthy. And her people did in fact asked Poizner "about the viability of his campaign" which Poizner interpreted as "criminal intimidation tactics."
EBay does have an adults only section. On the other hand, Whitman abolished gun sales on the site.
Whitman has never voiced support for "amnesty" for illegal aliens or for President Obama's position on this issue.
Whitman didn't "refuse to vote Republican." She didn't vote for anyone over the last several decades, a record she admits is "atrocious."
It's true that Whitman supports taxpayer funding of abortions. But in 2004, Poizner did too, saying so on a Planned Parenthood questionnaire.
Whitman did support Barbara Boxer, along with 14 other Silicon Valley executives because the senator opposed taxes on the Internet.
Whitman did have an involvement with the controversial Wall Street firm Goldman Sachs. She got shares in initial public stock offerings, and resold them within hours, often for a handsome profit. Goldman was essentially giving Whitman the shares as a gift - in return, she would nudge eBay business Goldman Sach's way. The practice at the time was not illegal.
Poizner "undercut" Prop. 13 by supporting a measure that allowed schools to pass bonds with 55 percent of the vote, instead of two-thirds.
The claim about his office staff spending includes a budget created by his predecessor and plays fast and loose with the numbers. Poizner didn't furlough workers but did cut his office budget by 10 percent.
Poizner claims his donations to Gore were on behalf of his wife, a Democrat, and drawn on a joint account. His signature was on the checks, however.
Whitman has spent $70 million on her campaign. Poizner has laid out $30 million. When all is said and done, we know very little more about them than we did when it started.
This is no way to make a decision. We can only hope that the next round will deal in issues and solutions, not political eye gouging.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The Name Game
News and views:
News: Assembly Concurrent Resolution 149 by Assemblyman Isadore Hall, D-Compton, would designate a portion of the 405 Freeway as the "Kevin Murray Highway."
Views: It's good to know that our state legislators, when not watching the state circle the financial drain, have time to do good deeds.
But wait a minute. Who is Kevin Murray? Ah, yes, now I remember: Murray served in the Legislature from 1994 to 2006 before being forced out of office by term limits.
According to Sacramento Bee columnist Dan Walters his legislative career was about average. He carried a few significant bills, including one aimed at encouraging installations of solar energy panels on roofs. Murray also carried some questionable measures, such as one stemming from the messy divorce of Southern California supermarket tycoon and major political donor Ron Burkle, to close public access to legal documents in divorce cases.
Unfortunately, Murray joined the politicians-with-their-pants-down brotherhood when a Los Angeles County Park Police officer found him with a prostitute in Murray's state-leased black Corvette, parked outside John Anson Ford Theater just after he was sworn in as a state senator.
Apparently that qualifies him for everlasting commemoration, at least in Hall's eyes.
But I think his vision falls short.
If you want to name the 405 Freeway for someone, why not O.J. Simpson? He brought international attention and fame to that vast stretch of road when he fled down the slow lane after his wife was found murdered. We could call it Bronco Boulevard.
For that matter, we could name almost every street in Hollywood after some celebrity who found themselves involved in a sex scandal. Just meet me at the corner of Roman Polanski Drive and Paris Hilton Lane.
If you think that's absurd, consider this: the Transportation Committee approved ACR 149 unanimously.
News: Legendary singer Lena Horne dies.
Views: She was beautiful, graceful and talented, but the most important thing to remember about Lena Horne is her refusal to live her life as a second class citizen.
If you think segregation merely meant separate schools, consider this:
All but abandoned by her parents, Lena was passed around from relative to relative and had to endure racist slurs, beatings for minor infractions and schoolgirl mockery because she was light-skinned.
When she finally began to receive acclaim as a singer, she signed with prestigious white bandleader Charlie Barnet, but in many ballrooms she wasn't allowed to sit on the bandstand between numbers.
Her parts in most movies contained few speaking roles and usually had little to do with the storyline so her appearances could be edited out for white audiences.
Already a star, Horne wanted to be considered for the role of Julie LaVerne in MGM's 1951 version of "Show Boat" but lost the part to Ava Gardner, a personal friend in real life, due to the Production Code's ban on interracial relationships in films.
Once, when entertaining the troops during World War II, she discovered that German prisoners of war were given preferential seating over black soldiers. She refused to perform.
In the late 1940s and 1950s, she chose to focus on quietly defying segregation policies at upscale hotels in Miami Beach and Las Vegas where she performed, according to her biography. At the time, it was customary for black entertainers to stay in black neighborhoods, but Ms. Horne successfully insisted that she and her musicians be allowed to stay wherever she entertained.
One Las Vegas establishment reportedly had its chambermaids burn Ms. Horne's sheets.
A lesser person would have retreated. Instead, she rose to become an entertainment industry icon who forced her industry to be color blind.
Lena Horne's greatest hit was her triumph over injustice. Let's remember her as something more than a pretty face.
News: A third-grader at Brazos Elementary School in Orchard, Texas, was given a week's detention for possessing a Jolly Rancher.
School officials in Brazos County are defending the seemingly harsh sentence. The school's principal and superintendent said they were simply complying with a state law that limits junk food in schools.
Views: Thank God the Candy Cops in Texas are looking after the children. Of course, if her parents had made up her lunch, she could have been packing chicken fried steak and a side of onion rings. That's because in Texas, they won't restrict what a parent might provide for their child's consumption.
The irony is that many school lunch menus still feature and array of cheeseburgers, pizza, burritos and barbecue pork sandwiches.
But no candy.
Monday, May 10, 2010
The High Cost of Deportation
Down in Texas, they love their rootin' tootin,' gun totin,' flag wavin,' Obama-bashing governor Rick Perry, a down home conservative if there ever was one.
This is the guy who won the undying love of the Tea Party set when he told a rally that Texans might get so fed up with Washington, they by golly just might secede from the union.
To his credit, he stopped short of calling for a resumption of the Civil War.
But despite - or may because of - his verbal excesses, conservatives think he's Mr. Right.
That's why more than a few eyebrows rose and brows furrowed when Perry recently shared his thoughts on the tough new Arizona immigration law, which would make failure to carry immigration documents a crime and give the police broad power to detain anyone suspected of being in the country illegally.
Those who thought Perry would embrace the concept and have the Texas Rangers round up every Mexican from the Panhandle to Galveston Bay were sorely disappointed.
Instead, Perry said that while he fully recognizes and supports "a state's right and obligation to protect its citizens ... I have concerns with portions of the law passed in Arizona, and believe it would not be the right direction for Texas."
Primary among those concerns, he said, was that the local police and sheriffs would end up spending too much time corralling illegal immigrants and would neglect to catch criminals and keep the public safe.
Meanwhile, in Santa Monica, researchers at a Rand Corporation think tank were coming to the same conclusion. According to study done by Rand, a 2007 partnership between Immigrations and Customs Enforcement and the sheriff's department in Maricopa County, Ariz., resulted in deputies identifying 16,000 illegal immigrants among 106,000 jail inmates over three months.However, the effort racked up a debt of $1.3 million in only three months, the percentage of crimes the department solved dropped and police response time soared. The federal government has since canceled the agreement.
Even cities in Arizona understand the economics of this fiasco. The Tucson and Flagstaff city councils have voted to sue the state over its immigration law, citing concerns about enforcement costs.
It doesn't take a political scientist to determine why this Draconian legislation was signed into law. Arizona has become the point of entry for many illegals, drug wars rage across the border and the federal government has kicked the problem back and forth for years.
Why? Aside from the usual ideological gridlock in Washington, politicians don't want any part of immigration reform that calls for the mass deportation of illegals. It's political poison.
Republicans actively court Latinos as a swing bloc vote. No less a GOP icon than Condoleezza Rice said that not passing comprehensive immigration reform that would have legalized millions of undocumented immigrants in 2007 was her "deepest regret."
Democrats, while paying lip service to human rights concerns, understand that many illegals who come to the country and manage to establish themselves are potential union members. And without union support, the Democratic Party becomes an afterthought.
So, if the Arizona law is financially, politically and probably legally unworkable, what happens next?
Anyone who thinks that somehow the government will round up all 11million illegals in the U.S. and deport them is living in a dream world. It would cost at least $94 billion to find, detain and remove all those believed to be staying illegally in the U.S., according to federal government figures.
"It is impossible for this country to rout people out of our society and send them home. It's just not going to happen," said no less an expert than former President George Bush.
President Obama suggests removing incentives to enter the country illegally by cracking down on employers who hire illegal immigrants. It would offer citizenship to undocumented workers who would need to register, pay taxes and pay a penalty for violating the law. Failure to comply might result in deportation.
Those ideas, along with a major increase in border security, are a good start.
Unfortunately, the future of immigration reform rests with the politicians in Washington. And unless elected officials rise to the occasion, more Arizona laws, as wrong-headed as they may be, are inevitable.
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Foot ball Games
If there's anything more loopy than the history of professional football in Los Angeles, I don't know what it would be. Maybe a Marx Brothers movie.
First, the Rams win the hearts and minds of fans during their 34-year run at the Coliseum, where they are almost always a winner. Then the team is inherited by a brassy ex-showgirl who dumps her fans for the garden of delights that is Anaheim. Unfortunately, Knott's Berry Farm draws better crowds. And L.A. is left with a bad case of the St. Louis blues.
But wait. Here come the Raiders, who leave their ancestral home in Oakland and end up in the Coliseum much to the delight of gang-bangers, devil worshipers and drunks who make up most of their fan base. Al Davis can't get a new stadium deal done so he moves back to Oakland, leaving behind more lawsuits than victories.
Years pass. The Coliseum tries to lure back the NFL which, after the Ram and Raider debacles, would sooner award a franchise to North Korea.
A stadium is proposed on a toxic landfill in Carson. It fails the smell test. The Rose Bowl becomes a candidate. But someone forgot to ask its owners, the people of Pasadena, if they thought it was a good idea. They didn't.
Out of the gloom emerges local billionaire Ed Roski, who has a plan. He's got the land, he's got the connections, he's got the permits. He's going to build a 75,000-seat stadium in Industry. It's shovel ready, all he needs is a team and the support of the NFL.
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Suddenly, another proposal. Businessman Casey Wasserman along with Tim Leiweke, who built the sports and entertainment complex which includes Staples Center, L.A. Live and a 1,000-room hotel, are mulling a $1 billion domed stadium which would provide the exclamation mark for their sprawling downtown development.
Why a domed stadium in the land of endless summer? Because it would have a multitude of uses. Supporters, letting their imaginations run wild, are already envisioning it hosting the Super Bowl, the World Cup, the Final Four, the Olympics, even two, that's right two, NFL teams.
"This is the final piece to the downtown puzzle," Wasserman told the press. "It's the only chance for the city to benefit from the economic power of a stadium of this caliber."
Wasserman apparently doesn't like to sugarcoat things. Either the city gets on board or they commit economic suicide.
So L.A., which has no team and only lip service from the NFL, has instead The Battle of the Billionaires, Roski versus Leiweke/Wasserman, no holds barred. The winner gets to tango with a bunch of skeptical NFL owners, a group of gentlemen who make Goldman Sachs look like Habitat for Humanity.
This contest isn't even started yet but this we know:
Never bet against Ed Roski. His tenacity in trying to lure the NFL to Los Angeles has been remarkable. He's spent millions trying to make his dream come true.
But Industry might as well be just north of Moose Jaw, Saskatchawan, as far as the NFL is concerned. Roski's people like to say it's just a few miles from downtown L.A. but it's light years from the glitz and glitter of Hollywood. Believe it: star power makes a difference.
Industry is also a million miles from the center of power and influence in Southern California. Downtown is where the big boys in business and politics play. These people are salivating at the chance to have a big-time stadium and the money it generates in their neighborhood. Leiweke/Wasserman will have them eating out of their hands.
Downtown has history on its side. It is where most of our teams - Lakers, Kings, Dodgers, USC - have played. It's where we hold parades to salute our heroes and funerals to remember them.
Industry has freeway access. Downtown has access by light rail and subway.Downtown has high-end hotels and restaurants. Know a good place to eat in Industry?
Most important, Leiweke/Wasserman say they plan to privately finance their stadium. As for Roski, his plan is for a team and the NFL to privately finance his stadium; Roski would likely hand over the land and entitlements and keep an equity stake in the team.
This newspaper reported recently that NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell has concerns. "While the stadium in the City of Industry has gotten many construction approvals, it still needs to be determined how to pay for it," he said, in a classic of understatement.
Advantage, Leiweke/Wasserman.
Whatever happens, it won't happen soon. The NFL faces a contentious union contract negotiations that could cancel the 2011 season. Until that is resolved, L.A. will continue to watch pro football on television.
Monday, April 26, 2010
A Bad Act
TV political commercials have been downright boring lately. How many
times can you watch GOP gubernatorial candidates Meg Whitman and
Steve Poinzer endlessly bash each other for being “li-ber-al,”
rolling the word off their tongues as you would “ped-o-phile” or
“Tal-i-ban.”
Recently, however, Proposition 16 backers have come thundering across
the vast wasteland, reaching into their deep pockets to bombard the
airways on behalf of their Taxpayers Right to Vote Act.
Before I sorted through the messy details of this initiative, I was
curious: Don’t taxpayers already have the right to vote? Is somebody
trying to take that right away from us? Has Glenn Beck been right all
this time?
But, no. Upon closer inspection it turns out that the Taxpayers Right
to Vote Act is the most misleading ballot title since the California
Marriage Protection Act of 2008 which in fact did nothing to protect
your marriage if you are gay.
Likewise, the Taxpayers Right to Vote Act takes away more than it
gives.
Written and funded to the tune of some $30 million by Pacific Gas and
Electric, Prop. 16 would require local governments to win the
approval of two-thirds of the voters before providing electricity to
residents through a local utility.
While PG&E concedes that many municipalities do hold elections to
decide if they should get involved in the power business, it is
demanding in this initiative that all citizens should be guaranteed a
say in all cases.
Sounds democratic, right? In theory, yes. In practice, PG&E
understands that getting two-thirds approval on anything this side of
motherhood is a steep mountain to climb and that requiring such a
mandate would have a chilling effect on public officials, who lack
the financial resources to face down a big bucks private utility.
The result: PG&E gets locked in as the provider and crushes any
future competition.
We have already seen how this plays out. In Sacramento in 2006 and
San Francisco in 2008, PG&E's deep pockets helped defeat
simple-majority ballot measures that would have allowed or expanded
municipal utilities, according to media in those cities.
John Geesman, who served on the California Energy Commission from
2002-2008, sees it this way:
“If passed, Proposition 16 will actually result in less voting than
occurs under existing law – at least that's the strategy PG&E's CEO,
Peter Darbee, recently boasted about to Wall Street investors,”
Gessman wrote in the Sacramento Bee.
“In Darbee's words, ‘the idea was to diminish, you know, rather than
year after year different communities coming in as this or that and
putting this up for vote and us having to spend millions and millions
of shareholder dollars to defend it repeatedly, we thought that this
was a way that we could sort of diminish that.’”
Aha, I see. So the Taxpayers Right to Vote act is actually an attempt
to prevent voting. Worse, it’s an exploitation of the initiative
process by a greedy special interest group.
PG&E isn’t the only one playing games.
Mercury Insurance is sponsoring Prop. 17, which would allow auto
insurance companies to base their prices in part on a driver’s
history of coverage.
What that means is that state law would be revised to allow insurers
to attract new customers with discounts, as long as the drivers have
been insured for most of the previous five years.
Sounds good, right? But critics say such a discount could mean higher
rates for drivers who were not previously insured even if it was
because they didn’t own a car, had a brief lapse in coverage or were
away at college or in the military (although troops stationed
overseas would be protected).
It would also gut Prop. 103 approved in 1988 which established a
connection between policy price and risk.
I’m guessing two things would happen if this passed. (1) Mercury and
other insurers would make a lot more money boosting rates for the
previously uninsured then they would spend offering discounts and (2)
the resulting higher prices would result in more uninsured drivers.
Then everyone’s rates would rise.
Stay tuned: In November, we get to vote on the "Regulate, Control and
Tax Cannabis Act of 2010" which Los Angeles County District Attorney
Steve Cooley says " ...will not regulate, not control nor effectively
tax marijuana in California."
times can you watch GOP gubernatorial candidates Meg Whitman and
Steve Poinzer endlessly bash each other for being “li-ber-al,”
rolling the word off their tongues as you would “ped-o-phile” or
“Tal-i-ban.”
Recently, however, Proposition 16 backers have come thundering across
the vast wasteland, reaching into their deep pockets to bombard the
airways on behalf of their Taxpayers Right to Vote Act.
Before I sorted through the messy details of this initiative, I was
curious: Don’t taxpayers already have the right to vote? Is somebody
trying to take that right away from us? Has Glenn Beck been right all
this time?
But, no. Upon closer inspection it turns out that the Taxpayers Right
to Vote Act is the most misleading ballot title since the California
Marriage Protection Act of 2008 which in fact did nothing to protect
your marriage if you are gay.
Likewise, the Taxpayers Right to Vote Act takes away more than it
gives.
Written and funded to the tune of some $30 million by Pacific Gas and
Electric, Prop. 16 would require local governments to win the
approval of two-thirds of the voters before providing electricity to
residents through a local utility.
While PG&E concedes that many municipalities do hold elections to
decide if they should get involved in the power business, it is
demanding in this initiative that all citizens should be guaranteed a
say in all cases.
Sounds democratic, right? In theory, yes. In practice, PG&E
understands that getting two-thirds approval on anything this side of
motherhood is a steep mountain to climb and that requiring such a
mandate would have a chilling effect on public officials, who lack
the financial resources to face down a big bucks private utility.
The result: PG&E gets locked in as the provider and crushes any
future competition.
We have already seen how this plays out. In Sacramento in 2006 and
San Francisco in 2008, PG&E's deep pockets helped defeat
simple-majority ballot measures that would have allowed or expanded
municipal utilities, according to media in those cities.
John Geesman, who served on the California Energy Commission from
2002-2008, sees it this way:
“If passed, Proposition 16 will actually result in less voting than
occurs under existing law – at least that's the strategy PG&E's CEO,
Peter Darbee, recently boasted about to Wall Street investors,”
Gessman wrote in the Sacramento Bee.
“In Darbee's words, ‘the idea was to diminish, you know, rather than
year after year different communities coming in as this or that and
putting this up for vote and us having to spend millions and millions
of shareholder dollars to defend it repeatedly, we thought that this
was a way that we could sort of diminish that.’”
Aha, I see. So the Taxpayers Right to Vote act is actually an attempt
to prevent voting. Worse, it’s an exploitation of the initiative
process by a greedy special interest group.
PG&E isn’t the only one playing games.
Mercury Insurance is sponsoring Prop. 17, which would allow auto
insurance companies to base their prices in part on a driver’s
history of coverage.
What that means is that state law would be revised to allow insurers
to attract new customers with discounts, as long as the drivers have
been insured for most of the previous five years.
Sounds good, right? But critics say such a discount could mean higher
rates for drivers who were not previously insured even if it was
because they didn’t own a car, had a brief lapse in coverage or were
away at college or in the military (although troops stationed
overseas would be protected).
It would also gut Prop. 103 approved in 1988 which established a
connection between policy price and risk.
I’m guessing two things would happen if this passed. (1) Mercury and
other insurers would make a lot more money boosting rates for the
previously uninsured then they would spend offering discounts and (2)
the resulting higher prices would result in more uninsured drivers.
Then everyone’s rates would rise.
Stay tuned: In November, we get to vote on the "Regulate, Control and
Tax Cannabis Act of 2010" which Los Angeles County District Attorney
Steve Cooley says " ...will not regulate, not control nor effectively
tax marijuana in California."
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Finding Fault
“The grapevine reported that the California Institute of Technology
in Pasadena, home to the premier seismology laboratory in the area,
had ordered its employees to leave town. Underground water tables
were said to be dropping, a sign that the Big One was about to hit.
“Caltech received so many panicky telephone calls that seismologists
working for the university and the United States Geological Survey
called a press conference on Thursday to squelch the rumors.
"There's no reason to think that there's still some accelerating level of
stress" on the San Andreas, said Dr. Thomas Heaton, a seismologist at
the Geological Survey's Pasadena office.
“Dr. Heaton assured reporters that no one was predicting doom, no one
had been told to flee and no water tables had dropped. In any case,
he added, falling water levels are not known to be harbingers of
earthquakes. "You may have noticed that we're not able to predict
earthquakes," he said dryly. "And if we were, we'd certainly be
telling you."
--- New York Times, 1992.
I’d like to say in the 18 years since that story appeared we have
developed a healthy skepticism towards earthquake predictions.
But I’d be wrong.
This paper reported this past week that rumors spread like wildfire
on the Internet and via text messages about an impending earthquake,
triggering a rash of calls to Caltech, the U.S. Geological Survey and
the Pasadena Fire Department.
It was dismissed as a hoax. "It's a rumor that Caltech is predicting
a major earthquake and sent all employees home - not true," said Jon
Weiner, director of media relations at Caltech. "We can't predict
earthquakes, and we're not sending employees home."
So much for healthy skepticism.
The difference between now and 1992 is that rumors spread by nut jobs
now have an audience in the tens of millions thanks to the Internet,
texting and networking sites, the same folks who have given the world
unfettered access to political wackos, porn stars and spam.
Just to underscore the point: There was a rumor making the rounds on
the Internet several years back that Zero Population Growth
boobytrapped men's toilets with razors set to castrate the
unsuspecting.
I rest my case.
The quake rumor was reportedly spread on Twitter, a networking tool
whose seriousness of purpose is reflected in its name.
One such text message read, “WARNING: State of California has
released a statement that there is a possible 8.4 earthquake within
24hours. Pray, inform and be prepared. please forward this.”
An e-mail version went something like this: "My buddy's wife works at
the seismology dept. in L.A. and they called everyone in today and
said get your kids out of school and stock up on water because there
is going to be a major quake within 24 hours."
There is no seismology department in the city or county of Los
Angeles of course, and the last time I checked, the state wasn’t in
the quake prediction business. Even if it was, it would have been the
victim of budget cuts by now.
To set the record straight, anyone who predicts that an earthquake
will strike California on any given date is going to be 100 per cent
correct. We have quakes --- dozens of them --- everyday. It’s the
nature of the state we live in and the planet we live on.
It’s when predictions specify locales and magnitudes that it gets
sketchy.
Search the Internet and you’ll find dozens of sites run by people in
the earthquake prediction business. They claim psychic powers, or
insight based on physical ailments such has headaches or back spasms
or predictions based on the behavior of chickens, dogs or goldfish.
I had a woman call me on the city desk of the Los Angeles Times some
years back to tell me she often suffered bouts of diarrhea shortly
before an earthquake struck. This was after the Northridge quake
almost leveled our entire operation so I called her methodology into
question.
None of this is intended to minimize the threat of a major earthquake
in our area. It will happen eventually and we should be prepared for
it.
But when you hear a prediction, run don’t walk in the other direction.
Susan Hough, of the U.S. Geological Survey, when asked in an
interview if we will ever be able to predict earthquakes, said, “I’m
inclined to doubt it, but I think it’s possible. The question is: Are
we ever going to be able to identify something in the earth that
tells us—unmistakably—that a “big one” is coming. It’s worth keeping
the lines of investigation going, but there’s been an awful lot of
work and we haven’t found anything yet.”
in Pasadena, home to the premier seismology laboratory in the area,
had ordered its employees to leave town. Underground water tables
were said to be dropping, a sign that the Big One was about to hit.
“Caltech received so many panicky telephone calls that seismologists
working for the university and the United States Geological Survey
called a press conference on Thursday to squelch the rumors.
"There's no reason to think that there's still some accelerating level of
stress" on the San Andreas, said Dr. Thomas Heaton, a seismologist at
the Geological Survey's Pasadena office.
“Dr. Heaton assured reporters that no one was predicting doom, no one
had been told to flee and no water tables had dropped. In any case,
he added, falling water levels are not known to be harbingers of
earthquakes. "You may have noticed that we're not able to predict
earthquakes," he said dryly. "And if we were, we'd certainly be
telling you."
--- New York Times, 1992.
I’d like to say in the 18 years since that story appeared we have
developed a healthy skepticism towards earthquake predictions.
But I’d be wrong.
This paper reported this past week that rumors spread like wildfire
on the Internet and via text messages about an impending earthquake,
triggering a rash of calls to Caltech, the U.S. Geological Survey and
the Pasadena Fire Department.
It was dismissed as a hoax. "It's a rumor that Caltech is predicting
a major earthquake and sent all employees home - not true," said Jon
Weiner, director of media relations at Caltech. "We can't predict
earthquakes, and we're not sending employees home."
So much for healthy skepticism.
The difference between now and 1992 is that rumors spread by nut jobs
now have an audience in the tens of millions thanks to the Internet,
texting and networking sites, the same folks who have given the world
unfettered access to political wackos, porn stars and spam.
Just to underscore the point: There was a rumor making the rounds on
the Internet several years back that Zero Population Growth
boobytrapped men's toilets with razors set to castrate the
unsuspecting.
I rest my case.
The quake rumor was reportedly spread on Twitter, a networking tool
whose seriousness of purpose is reflected in its name.
One such text message read, “WARNING: State of California has
released a statement that there is a possible 8.4 earthquake within
24hours. Pray, inform and be prepared. please forward this.”
An e-mail version went something like this: "My buddy's wife works at
the seismology dept. in L.A. and they called everyone in today and
said get your kids out of school and stock up on water because there
is going to be a major quake within 24 hours."
There is no seismology department in the city or county of Los
Angeles of course, and the last time I checked, the state wasn’t in
the quake prediction business. Even if it was, it would have been the
victim of budget cuts by now.
To set the record straight, anyone who predicts that an earthquake
will strike California on any given date is going to be 100 per cent
correct. We have quakes --- dozens of them --- everyday. It’s the
nature of the state we live in and the planet we live on.
It’s when predictions specify locales and magnitudes that it gets
sketchy.
Search the Internet and you’ll find dozens of sites run by people in
the earthquake prediction business. They claim psychic powers, or
insight based on physical ailments such has headaches or back spasms
or predictions based on the behavior of chickens, dogs or goldfish.
I had a woman call me on the city desk of the Los Angeles Times some
years back to tell me she often suffered bouts of diarrhea shortly
before an earthquake struck. This was after the Northridge quake
almost leveled our entire operation so I called her methodology into
question.
None of this is intended to minimize the threat of a major earthquake
in our area. It will happen eventually and we should be prepared for
it.
But when you hear a prediction, run don’t walk in the other direction.
Susan Hough, of the U.S. Geological Survey, when asked in an
interview if we will ever be able to predict earthquakes, said, “I’m
inclined to doubt it, but I think it’s possible. The question is: Are
we ever going to be able to identify something in the earth that
tells us—unmistakably—that a “big one” is coming. It’s worth keeping
the lines of investigation going, but there’s been an awful lot of
work and we haven’t found anything yet.”
Flights of Fancy
Let's play pretend.
You're the CEO of a major airline company and things aren't going well. Revenues are shaky, fuel costs are up and the public ranks you slightly below Rosie O'Donnell on the likability index.
But you have to increase cash flow so what do you do? There's got to be some sort of revenue stream out there just waiting to be discovered.
American Airlines chief Bob Crandall once famously removed an olive from each salad served to passengers some years back. A single olive would never be missed, the reasoning went, and savings amounted to at least $40,000 a year.
That's the kind of inspiration you seek.
Then the light bulb goes on over your head.
Why should passengers be allowed to lug their carry-on baggage onto the plane for free? Charge the hell out of them for that coveted overhead storage space. If they don't like it, they can wear two or three changes of clothes.
It's brilliant in its simplicity. Problem is, this is no fantasy.
Spirit Airways announced last week that it intends to charge as much as a $45 fee for carry-on baggage.
That's skyway robbery.
"I didn't think anyone would go this far," Jay Sorensen, an airline consultant who specializes in airline fees, told the Associated Press.
But wait, it gets worse.
Not to be outdone, Ryanair Airlines, based in Dublin, Ireland, disclosed it is considering a plan that would require travelers to pay either 1 Euro
or a British pound (about $1.33 or $1.52) for using the bathroom on flights lasting one hour or less.The carrier said it is working with Boeing to develop a coin-operated door release so that when nature calls, passengers would need to deposit the change before being able to use the facilities.
(The good news is that if Boeing is in charge of the project, there will be a 500 percent cost overrun and it will run 10 years behind schedule).
The idea is to encourage people to use restrooms in airport terminals before boarding, Ryanair said.
And why do they want to do that? So they can remove two of the three lavatories on some of its planes and squeeze in up to six extra seats. The refurbishing would reduce fares by at least 5 percent, Ryanair claimed.
We have been advised to stay hydrated on airplanes. Drink lots of water because airplane air can dry you out, and a dehydrated person is more susceptible to contracting illness. Now Ryanair has found a way to make hydration pay.
They just don't make capitalists like this anymore.
"By charging for the toilets we are hoping to change passenger behavior so that they use the bathroom before or after," said Stephen McNamara, a Ryanair spokesman.
It will indeed change passenger behavior. Ryanair will be as devoid of customers as it is toilets.
As for Spirit airlines, if they want to charge me for carry-on luggage, I'll tell them where they can stow it.
Coming soon: Fares based on your weight. Since we're treated like cargo anyway, the next logical step is to step on a scale.
Speaking of airlines, it was reported that a 91-year-old German man was refused entry to a flight in Liverpool's John Lennon Airport because he was dead.
The recently departed man was brought to the airport by two relatives, sitting in a wheelchair and sporting a pair of sunglasses.
Staff became suspicious when the man did not respond to questions by airport workers. His relatives, two women aged 41 and 66, were arrested.
The couple were believed to be attempting to flout repatriation fees for the dead man. Bodies being repatriated by air are required to be contained inside hermetically-sealed zinc-lined coffins and require paperwork to travel in the hold.
Of course, if they were flying Spirit Airways, they could have stuck him in the overhead bin for $45.
And I thought the only dead people at airports were the handlers who took an eternity to get the baggage to the carousels.
Sunday, April 04, 2010
The Write Stuff
Are you a person who appreciates a deft turn of phrase, who revels in sparkling wordplay, who soars on the wings of language well used?
If that is you, read no further. Because today's topic is bad writing.
It's the time of year that we celebrate a man who is perhaps the most visible bad writer of all time. His name is Edward George Bulwer-Lytton and in 1830 he penned the immortal opening line, "It was a dark and stormy night."
Actually, he wrote: "It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."
This kind of turgid writing is not lost on the good folks of the English department at San Jose State University who are even now accepting entries for the annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest in which authors are encouraged to "compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels." In other words, write something truly, deliberately bad.
The contest has become legendary over the years, attracting some 10,000 entries from throughout the world. It has also produced a truly remarkable body of work.
Some personal favorites:
"Jennifer stood there, quietly ovulating."
"Fleur looked down her nose at Guilliame, something she was accomplished at, being six foot three in her stocking feet, and having one of those long French noses, not pert like Bridget Bardot's, but more like the one that Charles De Gaulle had when he was still alive and President of France and he wore that cap that was shaped like a little hatbox with a bill in the front to offset his nose, but it didn't work."
"The dual-headed Zhiltoids from Beta Quadrant in the Crab Nebula, who lived entirely on a diet of steaming hot asphalt, thought they had died and gone to heaven upon landing in the Midtown Mall of Fresno, California on the planet Earth during the month they called 'July'."
"She walked into my office on legs as long as one of those long-legged birds that you see in Florida - the pink ones, not the white ones - except that she was standing on both of them, not just one of them, like those birds, the pink ones, and she wasn't wearing pink, but I knew right away that she was trouble, which those birds usually aren't."
"Dr. Metzger turned to greet his new patient, blithely unaware he would soon become a member of a secret brotherhood as old as urology itself."
"Sylvia leaned seductively back in her chair and downed the shot of cheap gin that Brad had poured for her, and speculated once again that, even if it did taste like something you'd rub on a horse, it had the pleasant side effect of softening Brad's facial symmetry which had always reminded her of the collapsed, pocked surface of a cheese quiche that's been cooked at too high a temperature."
"It seemed the stifling summer heat would never end, and it would not, for Bob was in Hell."
"Mike Hummer had been a private detective so long he could remember Preparation A, his hair reminded everyone of a rat who'd bitten into an electrical cord, but he could still run faster than greased owl snot when he was on a bad guy's trail, and they said his friskings were a lot like getting a vasectomy at Sears."
Anyway, you get the point.
As for me, I'm not a fiction writer. I depend on real-life experiences for inspiration:
"Bob drove to work on the 210 Freeway, the engine of his car humming like a watch - a really good one like a Rolex or Patek Phillipe, not a Timex or some knock-off - and passed over the Arroyo, home of the Rose Bowl, the Granddaddy of Them All, which like many granddaddies is falling apart and needs repair, before exiting the concrete ribbon on Lake Avenue, which is near no lake anyone has ever seen and, parking his vehicle, walked into the office in Pasadena, a city that cares about only one thing: parades, football, money, sex, power, politics and bike paths. It was there he wrote about bad writing of which the preceding is a classic example."
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