Bienvenue chez moi. Lisez, regardez, et écrivez-moi! Amusez-vous! Welcome to my blog. Read, look, and write to me! Have fun!

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Thinking about Opal

Here’s a link to a beautiful website about Opal Whitely:
http://www.efn.org/~caruso/fairyland/
If you click on the right links, it will take you to her diary, which she wrote when she was seven. I absolutely love it. Opal became famous as a naturalist in her 20’s and then fell into “mental illness” and her diaries were questioned as to their authenticity. She wrote a book called “The Fairyland Around Us” which is very rare now.
When my daughter was little I found a copy in the children’s book section of a used book store here in Eugene. I thought it was going to be about fairies, and when I leafed through it I saw that it wasn’t; it was about nature. It had a price of $5.95 and I decided it was too expensive, so I put it back on the shelf! I was looking for cheap kid’s books for Heather at the time.
Later I found out who Opal Whitely was, read her diary, and realized that it was her book I had held in my hand! I think she was born around the same time as my grandfather (1901), so the descriptions of her growing up in the woods around Cottage Grove remind me in some ways of Grandpa’s youth in the logging camps of Washington State.
Opal died in a mental hospital in England, and one of my book group members got to meet her. Her mother had done extensive history and biographical work about her, and had corresponded with her. So Elizabeth traveled with her mother to England and was able to meet with Opal before she died.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Found in Eugene!

Davy and Peter Rothbart, the brothers who started Found Magazine, brought their traveling show to Sam Bond’s Garage in Eugene yesterday. I’ve been looking forward to it for a couple of months. Last time I saw them in Eugene was probably 3 or 4 years ago. It was before Ancient Vivi was posted on the Found website, on July 24, 2007, before I met Chrome Toaster, Mona Lisa, Nightingale, Jonathan, Sarasara, Midlife Crisis and the others who post regularly. It was before I knew who Davy and Peter were. I heard about them on the radio in 2005 or so and after that I had the website as my home page, but never posted a comment before Ancient Vivi’s birth. Since then I’ve submitted many finds and I’ve had a bunch show up on the website. I’m not sure how many, but less than 10 and probably more than 6. The Stranger and Ramen Boy were two others that showed up after Ancient Vivi, around 2007. After that, I sort of lost track. The most recent was on June 9, 2009.

The show last night was great.. but it would have been more fun to have another Found-crazed person to go with. Daniel humored me by taking photos, and he really enjoyed the show. But he doesn’t really “get” the fascination with found items – his big goal is to toss more stuff into the trash, not to hold onto it!

Nevertheless, the event and talking with Davy was so cool (Peter didn't really seem very interested in talking with me, but that’s okay).. Davy listed off all the people he'd met on tour, like Turbo and Chrome Toaster and Nightingale and also Jonathan. And he didn't seem the least bit surprised to see me. I wasn't sure if he'd know who Clover was. But he did. And when I walked in, he smiled at me like he was expecting me. I guess maybe it's because of MySpace or Facebook; maybe he's seen my picture. Or maybe one of our other mutual friends emailed him to say I would be at the Eugene show? I don't have his email, nor a direct way of communicating with him. I don't know how much he reads the messages on the Foundmagazine MySpace. I've never written to him directly on there. Nevetheless, it seemed like we had already met before. Talking to him was like talking to an old friend.

I was disappointed because I didn't get as much time as I wanted, to visit with Davy, Peter and others who may have been in their entourage (I don’t know if there were others). I had a bunch of questions I wanted to ask them. But Daniel was tired at the end and wanted to leave, so he went on out the door immediately after the show finished, and waited for me. We had taken a few photos with Davy at the end, then I lost my glasses and panicked because I was afraid the waiter had bussed them off a table and tossed them in the garbage. I was blind (well, not quite, but everything was a blur) and I had to go outside and find Daniel and tell him my glasses were gone. So he came back in and found them on the floor. I had looked but hadn’t seen them there. I had taken them off briefly for photos (sometimes the flash reflects), laid them down on the table, and when I reached for them a couple of minutes later they were gone. Apparently they had been swept off the table accidently when it was bussed.

Anyway, I wanted to be able to visit with both Davy and Peter for a little bit longer. Davy had told me that he’d had to get on a plane because the wheel fell off their van, or something like that. I wanted to find out how that happened, where did it happen, and what did that mean they would have to deal with for the rest of the trip? But I didn’t get a chance to ask him about that. I’m hoping they’re keeping a travel blog like they have in the past, so I can find out about how that went. But this tour seems like a grueling pace, with one stop after another, a different city every night. It seems a shame that they can’t stop and spend more time in places like Eugene, where they would certainly find more like-minded souls who appreciated their art!

I thought it was so cool that Davy referred to the whole Found phenomenon as a collaborative art project, that we are all part of.. and he told me about meeting Jonathan (England) as well as others on tour, like Turbo in the Thunderdome, Chrome Toaster and Nightingale.

There was another odd coincidence. I bought a complete 5-volume gift set of the Found Magazines from Peter. It was tied with a pink ruffle cut from a girl’s dress with a tag that said “Claudia.” It's described it in the caption under the photo. I didn’t realize at first that they had used a scrap of clothing as gift wrap at firs. I just saw the tag with the name “Claudia,” so I asked Peter, "Why does it say 'Claudia'?" He said, "I don't know."

Well, the reason I asked is this: The day before we had just arrived home from a trip to the beach. We stopped to pick up our mail, and I got out of the car to get the mail from our mailbox (which is up the street and several houses up the street from our house), and after getting it out of the mailbox I was going to walk down the hill to our house. The neighbor, who lives across the street from our mailbox, was out in her yard, so I stopped to chat. We’ve waved at each other from a distance, but we haven’t really spoken in a few years. Her name is CLAUDIA. Her daughters, Jessie and Nicole, used to baby sit Heather when she was little. So we spent a few minutes catching up on what our girls are doing. Jessie is now 28 and she went to Italy for spring break several years ago and fell in love with an Albanian who was working as a cook in Italy. They married, and had a little girl who is now 8 months old, and have been living in Albania. Well, her mother, CLAUDIA, told me they are coming back next month to live in the US. And guess what.. the baby girl's name is CLAUDIA! The neighbor told me that Claude or Claudia has been a family name for every generation except her daughter’s and that Jessie brought back the tradition by naming her daughter CLAUDIA. Jessie pronounces it "Clow-deeya" the Albanian way to say it. (Claudia happens to be a name I’ve always liked, ever since I had a friend named Claudia Olig in middle school. I also had a friend named Claudette when I was working at Meier & Frank in Portland before I was 21. She was 25, and so worldly and sophisticated!)

Anyway, it shouldn’t have surprised me. This is a typical Found connection/coincidence. All things associated with Found seem to be bathed in this odd magical aura, which has been noted repeatedly – by Chrome Toaster and other found fanatiques..

Anyway, it was a fantastic show and a fun visit, even if too short! I can hardly wait until their next tour, when I hope some of my other found friends can join me for their show!

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Invented Languages

This is a fascinating interview about languages.

Ancient Languages

Here's more about ancient languages.

Languages!!

More stuff about languages:
Here's a baby who is speaking baby language. If you listen closely you can hear some English words. Notice her expression when her dad stops paying rapt attention and starts laughing at her. It's pretty obvious she expects him to understand what she's saying, and it's very important.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Choice of language study


This article by Ray Verzasconi comes from the April 9th issue of SPECTRUM, the newsletter of COFLT (Confederation in Orgeon for Language Teaching). The push for implementation of Chinese language programs in public schools at the expense of other languages is short-sighted at best. Language study should not be dictated soley by economic or military rationales.



Some 30-35 years ago, a number of American economists, crunching the data that so intrigue them, predicted that Japan would become the world’s leading economic power by the year 2000. Didn’t happen did it?


Nowadays a new generation of American economists are predicting that China will become the world’s leading economic power by 2050 or so. Will it happen? Well, anything can happen. As Mark Twain said, “The art of prophecy is very difficult, especially when it relates to the future.”


The U.S.A. might sink into a really severe economic depression next week, leaving us all to grub for roots in order to survive, but then, since we have been the primary consumers of Chinese goods, China would sink with us. China now holds over $1 trillion in U.S. government bonds that, if we go bankrupt, would become so much useless paper. The 200 million or so Chinese who now enjoy middleclass comforts could revolt, along with the 800 million or so still struggling with poverty, setting the nation’s economy back to the Dark Ages. By 2050 India might be the world’s leading economic power or, for that matter, Brazil. Then again, global warming might cause such a dislocation in all nations that the term “leading economic power” might be meaningless.


My point is that neither economic development nor national security is in and of itself justification for the study of any language. Look at the maps on the previous page and tell me where the is logic in the decision of Reynolds High School to drop German in order to add Chinese or that of Catlin Gabel School to drop Japanese in order to add Chinese?


We’ve been there before. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, several dozen high schools in Oregon dropped or sharply curtailed French, German or Spanish programs in order to offer Chinese or Japanese. Only a handful of the original Japanese programs survive; none of the Chinese programs. Both suffered from a shortage of qualified teachers and very high student attrition.


About the most ludicrous suggestion I have heard of late comes from David Porter. Mr. Porter has been lobbying various members of the Oregon legislature for over a year. He wants two years of Chinese to be required of all Oregon high school students, and he further wants the legislature to fund a one-month summer study program in China for all of them, insisting that after two years of high school with a one-month stay in China in between, they will all become “advanced” speakers.


One thing that continues to puzzle me is why the Confederation in Oregon for Language Teaching (COFLT) has never developed a language policy that it can handle legislators, school boards and other administrators every and any time someone starts going off on a tangent. I guess for the same reason that ACTFL never has – fear of alienating someone. Interestingly, it is the Modern Language Association (MLA), the “literature” association that represents mostly English and foreign language faculty in higher education that developed a policy over 15 years ago that, in fact, finds a home in the Oregon Road Map.


Yes, a language in addition to English should be part of every school curriculum starting with kindergarten, with an additional language and languages added in subsequent years for “the best and brightest.” And, yes, which language should indeed be left to the local educational agency. Which language really doesn’t matter.

At the same time, language learning takes too much time to keep switching languages in order to teach the langue du jour. COFLT needs to become proactive, not re-active. Once Catlin Gabel decides to drop Japanese or Reynolds High to drop German, a protest is futile.


A language, any language which, for some students will become a stepping stone to studying and learning another language or languages.


Languages for economic development or national security? By the time students really get to the “advanced” level (ACTFL definition), the language may have lost its economic or strategic importance.


At least Congress in recent years has not repeated the errors inherent in the National Defense Education Act (NDEA) of the 1960s, which by default encouraged thousands of school districts nationwide to drop well-established language programs in order to add, hastily, new languages. Since 9/11 the federal government has significantly increased funding for foreign language and international studies programs, K-16 and beyond; but virtually all the programs have a qualifying clause: money will not be provided to start new language programs if, to do so, an existing language program will be dropped. We keep the programs we have and add to them.


Germany remains the world’s third largest economic power; add Austria to the mix; and after the current economic meltdown, its position is likely to be strengthened. Languages for national security? The biggest myth the language associations have helped propagate in the past 50 years is that we do not have enough people who are proficient in “critical languages” working in the federal government. Well, if the State Department, the FBI, CIA, NSI and the military intelligence agencies changed their policies on security clearances, positions would not go begging.


The more sensitive the position, the more thorough the background check in order to obtain a security clearance at a higher level. Guess what? The top security clearances virtually prohibit that anyone have friends and contacts among people who are not part of a country’s elite, and are not staunchly pro-American. Most of the language teachers I know (myself included) wouldn’t qualify.


How can anyone understand and respect people in other cultures if one restricts oneself to those who graduated from Harvard or Yale, speak English and are staunchly pro-American? How can we possibly know what “the street” thinks, especially in those countries with governments that censor the media? The paranoia dates back to the Jacksonian Revolution, the assumption being that anyone too friendly with the natives would “go over to the other side.”


That ideology is central to the long-standing dispute in the U.S. Department of State between “regionalists” and “internationalists.” Regionalists want Foreign Service officers to spend their entire careers in a specific region so they can become bilingual and bicultural; internationalists prefer to move people around to different parts of the world every two years or so; that way, they are less likely to become traitors. Internationalists are really a throwback to English imperialists. Ah, yes, not a few British diplomats in the 19th c. ended up gaining an appreciation of the “native” culture that they ended up denouncing certain imperialist practices.


Except for the Navy, the U.S. military pretty much follows the internationalists. The military spends millions of dollars every year training military personnel foreign languages at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, CA, but if anyone becomes too proficient, he or she is not likely to be stationed very long in a nation where the foreign language is spoken. We had two top Army commanders and a number of lower-level officers in the Middle East at Level 2 (Advanced) or 3 (Superior) proficiency in Farsi before Bush II went to war against Iraq. Most were brought back to Washington D.C. and given dead-end desk jobs or shipped off to another part of the world. So military commanders had to depend on native translators and interpreters who didn’t always understand our language and culture that well.


The Navy is an exception. It has had a tendency in recent years to promote people with Level 2 and higher proficiency in a foreign language to the top ranks and to leave them serve in the same area for their entire career. The Navy apparently has an Admiral in the Pacific Fleet with Level 3 proficiency in Japanese.


A couple of high profile espionage cases in Great Britain in the 1950s also color the entire intelligence and military establishment attitudes toward gays. Of course, back when homosexuality was still a felony crime, gays could easily be blackmailed. Today? Still gays can forget about a career in the intelligence community, no matter if they are bilingual or trilingual. Gay language specialists remain high on the list of those being drummed out of the military.


Taken together, existing language policy as it relates to national security is contradictory. We know it takes a long time, even if we are highly motivated, to achieve a high level of proficiency in another language, and it takes even longer to develop a deep understanding of and respect for another culture – and one can’t possibly do the latter if one socializes only with Harvard-educated foreigners who come from a privileged class. It’s what led to the fiasco in Iran in 1979 and more recently in Iraq.


~Ray Verzasconi, editor

Spectrum 6 April 2009


1. For a recent case of inanity, see Bruce Falconer, “The FBI’s Least Wanted,” Mother Jones (May/June 2009), pp. 40-42 & p. 85. Again, establishment policy (or paranoia) creates a linguistic shortage in a critical language.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Music on the Cusp From Folk to Acid Rock in Portland Coffeehouses, 1967–1970 by Valerie Brown

Music on the Cusp From Folk to Acid Rock in Portland Coffeehouses, 1967–1970

by Valerie Brown c. 2007

“The people with whom you share the suffering of sudden growth are linked in magical ways, and these can be the people who really know you best.” — Jon Adams

This article is about what I was doing and the places I was going when I was in high school.. and it captures so many memories for me. Those were creative times, when some of us forewent the idea of making money in favor of living for the joy of creating and exploring ideas. This article is about the music culture of those times in Portland, but there were also artists and writers and political satirists who hung out with our group of friends, some of whom went to other high schools (I went to Beaverton and Aloha High) — Lincoln and Wilson and Tigard.

I didn’t play music, but the original music and the collaborative sessions between the musicians I knew, inspired my writing, photography and art ideas. I preferred the smaller coffee house venues, and the folk-like music over the big crowds at the Pythian or Crystal Ballrooms. I was so disappointed at the demise of the collaborative participatory art and music culture when (as this article so aptly describes) the baby boom generation moved to the bars for dancing and disco.

I was a little too young for the beatnik scene, but I do remember going to one of those cafes when I was maybe 10 or 11 with my parents. It may have been Cafe Espresso. There were candles stuck in wine bottles with wax dripping over them, and as I remember there were table coverings that you could draw or write poetry on, and they served spaghetti. I never could find the spot again, but I’m pretty sure it was near the Portland State campus.

The remnants remained in the form of these countercuture coffee houses where I liked to hang out as a teenager. I find it interesting that it was the churches who created and nourished the scene (no profit motive.. I’m sure profits would have been impossible) and the government sponsored one of the biggest rock festivals I ever went to, for a surprising reason! I think of those days as similar to the pre-war Paris years when the American expatriates gathered for freedom and creativity. Perhaps the Portland artists never gained the fame of the Hemingway crowd, but I believe the creative soup was similar.

Some of the things I remember, which were left out of the article:

1. Bob Koski’s name under the photo of Notary Sojac. Steve is on the far right and Bob is next to Tom McMeekan between Tom and Steve. Bob died in 2006. I went to his celebration of life in October 2006, where the other members of Notary Sojac also came, as well as some of the other people mentioned in this article, including Rick Gooch.

2. What was the name of the owner of Alice’s Restaurant, and is he mentioned in the article? I remember him well; he was really OLD (maybe 30?) and his birthday was the same day as mine, March 17th. He was very protective of us teenage girls. One time he even drove Becky and me home after the cafe closed. We had concocted stories for our parents and planned to stay out all night.. maybe he just didn’t want to get into trouble for harboring underage girls, but he always made sure we stayed out of trouble! We were pretty naive and he kept the guys who had seedier intentions away from us.

3. The name of the group Sleezy Pieces came from the movie title “Five Easy Pieces” and originally they were called 5 Sleezy Pieces.

4. My favorite band who played most weekends at Alice’s Restaurant, Sterling Stem and the Bumcounts. I think there were usually just three members: Doug Downer, Rich Englund, and Greg Nordling. I think sometimes Earl Benson sat in with them, and sometimes there may have been various drummers who I didn’t know.

5. The few times I went to Lair Hill Park nothing was happening there. 6. The Goose Hollow neighborhood, and Big Pink, the Victorian home where Sand lived, is omitted from this article. I think that neighborhood is one that was sacrificed when the new freeway exchanges were built, leading out of Canyon Drive into Portland.

The time was brief, only 3 years or so, and I’m glad I was there. And I’m really glad this author documented this bit of Portland history.

Friday, April 10, 2009

State governments in jeopardy

Robert Reich describes clearly why we need to send federal money to the states.

By Robert Reich - Thursday, April 09, 2009

With the real economy continuing to shrink, and unemployment or underemployment now claiming almost one out of six American workers, the economy will almost surely be more than $1 trillion short of its capacity this year, and another $1 trillion short next year. That means the $787 billion stimulus package covering 2009 and 2010 won't nearly do the trick-- even if every federal dollar of it stimulates $1.5 dollars in private spending (about the most that can be expected). Don't count on the bank bailouts to stimulate much of anything except fat paychecks for bank executives and directors. Unless or until Americans get their jobs back and feel more secure about the future, they won't borrow.


Sinking or vanishing American incomes are also causing tax revenues to drop. That's not much of a problem for the federal government, which can run deficits. But most state governments are required by their state constitutions to balance their budgets. Even though the states will be getting some stimulus money, their revenues are falling even faster.

The result? States continue to cut back vital services. They're chopping K-12 school budgets, whacking after-school programs, cutting back on child health, reducing aid to the homeless, and cutting other social services that are more important now than when the economy is doing well. And when they aren't cutting services, the states are raising taxes. At least ten states are considering major increases in sales or incomes taxes -- including Connecticut, Illinois, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Minnesota, Oregon, Washington, and Wisconsin. California and New York have already instituted multibillion-dollar tax increases that went into effect earlier this year.

All told, state service cuts and likely tax increases will total about $350 billion over 2oo9 and 2010. This is nuts -- exactly the opposite of what government needs to be doing. That $350 billion is a huge fiscal drag on the U.S. economy. It essentially negates almost half of the federal stimulus.

Let's hope the Obama administration returns to Congress soon for a second stimulus -- a large chunk of which should help the states maintain vital services and avoid tax increases, and that Congress heeds the request. (And let's hope the administration makes this pitch to Congress before it tries to get more money for the bailouts of Wall Street, the automakers, life insurers, or any other industry whose bondholders and shareholders should be taking the hit rather than taxpayers.)

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Thanksgiving for the Obama Family

This is a very interesting story, from today's Daily Kos.

Obama family visits food bank, school on Thanksgiving Eve

by SusanG
Wed Nov 26, 2008 at 02:45:04 PM PST

The Obama family made a surprise visit to a Chicago church food bank earlier today to help distribute meals, according to a pool report filed today by Tom DeFrank of the New York Daily News. After 40 minutes or so, the soon-to-be first family visited with students at the parochial school attached to the church, where they answered questions and got in a little teasing at the expense of the Secret Service.

One of the most powerful simple statements from the pool report came from Obama: Asked why he'd brought his daughters along, he replied: "I want them to learn the importance of how fortunate they are and to make sure they're giving back."

DeFrank's pool report is so full of life and color on this Thanksgiving Eve, I'm going to reproduce it in full. It begins after Obama's press conference this morning when he announced his Economic Recovery Advisory Board:

Exiting the podium after meeting the press, Obama was asked his plans for tomorrow and replied that he and Michelle are hosting "a whole bunch of people" at their home.
Five minutes after the press conference concluded, the President-elect left the Hilton at 10:08 a.m. and arrived at his home 11 minutes later. The motorcade departed again at 10:55 with Michelle and the girls in tow and arrived at 11:03 at Saint Columbanus Catholic Church, a South South parish that operates a food bank every Wednesday.

The Obamas were at the church and adjoining school for about an hour. They emerged into a small parking lot between the church and school where the food distribution operation had been set up in a U-shape.

They were all bundled up against the brisk, sunny weather; Michelle and her daughters were wearing toboggan caps; the President-elect had on a brown leather car coat, muffler, chinos and was bareheaded.

The First Family-to-be were positioned at the start of the food line; their job was to hand out white plastic bags filled with fresh chicken. Recipients then moved down the line to receive bags of potatoes, apples, loaves of bread and large boxes of staples including macaroni and cheese, tomato sauce, peanut butter, canned corn, oatmeal, Miracle Whip, mixed fruit and other items.
Obama called out: "We're ready, let's go, bring 'em on in," and the distribution began.
Clearly, those lining up for food hadn't been told they had an important guest helping out. this day. Many of them lit up; some shrieked with delight and hugged one or more of the Obamas. One elderly woman bowed; all seemed very appreciative. One and all were greeted with handshakes, hugs, and hearty "Happy Thanksgivings."

The daughters behaved like troopers for a half hour or so before the cold caught up with them, and they retired for a few minutes to warm up.

One sixty-something neighborhood resident named Daryel Namdan was asked how it felt to have Obama there. "It makes me feel very special," he said, before choking up.

Father Matt Eyerman of Saint Columbanus said the church feeds 450 to 500 every week. They start lining up at 5 a.m. to make sure they get a ticket to assure them food.

An Obama aide said the family has been to this particular food bank before and has pitched in here or elsewhere at least two other years.

After about 40 minutes on the line, Obama decided to go say hello to about 200 students.
After shaking hands with the food bank volunteers, he came over to the pool and had this to say:
"The number of people who are getting food this year is up 33%. It gives a sense times are tough - and I think that on Thanksgiving it's important for us to remember there's a need for support.

"These folks were already oftentimes having a tough time, and it gets tougher now." He encouraged all Americans of means to help out however they could. "This is part of what Thanksgiving should be all about," he said.

Asked why he'd brought his daughters along, he replied: "I want them to learn the importance of how fortunate they are and to make sure they're giving back."

Then the family walked into the basement auditorium of the school, where about 200 kids from several grades were seated on the floor. When the Obamas walked onto the stage just before noon, the kids went nuts, leaping to their feet and cheering. "How's everybody doing?" he asked, coming down off the stage to mingle and inquire about their Thanksgiving plans.

He inquired about their collective menus, starting with turkey. "How about macaroni and cheese? How about green beans? How about sweet potato pie? How about cranberry sauce?" With each question, his audience erupted in more cheers.

He warmed the hearts of the teachers by delivering an earnest little homily/pep talk about working hard and paying attention. If they diligently pursued their reading and math et al, "There's nothing you can't do. You guys might end being the President some day." Still more cheers.

He took two questions from his entranced charges. A sixth-grader asked what it was like to be POTUS.

"I'm not the President yet. ..Once I'm sworn in I'll let you know."

The second question had to do with his new life. He began by talking about his Secret Service detail. Michelle interjected: "Secret Service, raise your hand." None did. The kids loved the moment more than the squirming, ever-anonymous agents.

In his new life "you don't have a lot of privacy," he told them, mentioning that going to Walgreen's and riding a bicycle are now far more involved than before.

He wished them all a Happy Thanksgiving, shook more hands, and was rolling north at 12:07 p.m. The family arrived home at 12:17 p.m.

Happily, a lid for the day has been declared. Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Tom DeFrank
New York Daily News

Monday, November 10, 2008

I wish Obama could see this.

Most candidates have a pathological need to become president, driving them onward to acheive the goal. But Barack Obama did not have that pathological need. The only thing that kept him going onward was the thought of what he could achieve if he were elected.

I heard that last night on "60 Minutes" in a fascinating interview with Barack Obama's campaign staff.

From the first time I really listened to what Obama was saying, I supported him, I think because I could see aspects of myself in him. I believe that he sees the world the way I do, which may sound strange, since by all appearances I am very different from him. I feel kind of silly saying this, because he is obviously such a great man.. and I don't have that kind of greatness. But the way he looks at things from every point of view, his faith in the ability of people to rise above their circumstances, his understanding that everyone must give and sacrifice for the greater good, and that you can't have everything you want, and that's okay. Sharing the gifts are what we need to do; there is enough to go around! His faith in the people to make the right decision, and his refusal to pit one group against another.. And of course his world-vision, his way of looking at the big picture, and of valuing every individual in it, and his approach to conflict through true communication. I am very big on that.

Anyway, I believe that most Americans can see something of themselves in Barack Obama, and that's why we elected him. Whether we are black or white, young or old, or in the middle.. the pundits are very mistaken in narrowing the issues. We are deeper than that. We are intelligent and passionate and reflective. And we are grateful to have such a man lead and represent us. Now I can hold my head up with pride, because the rest of the world can see that my president represents me -- who I truly am, and what I think.

Barack Obama's background is not dissimilar from many of my students. They come from single-parent homes, they live with their grandparents, they come from very diverse backgrounds. I love working there, I thrive on the diversity and I have always held high hopes for these students, that education will change their lives.

On November 5th there was a glow that surrounded the entire school. My administrator greeted me with a hug. And I wish Barack Obama could have seen our students! They were skipping down the hallway chanting "O-bama! O-bama!" like in the Obama song. They wrote OBAMA in big letters on their papers. They were focused and working and learning. Honestly, it felt to me that they felt hope alive inside them. I had a sense that it kindled the fire of possibility for them in their own lives.

I wish Barack Obama could be there to see it.

This is what I felt last week. And it cheers me and gives me hope. It renews my faith in our system, in America.

As we face the exceedingly tough times ahead, we have the right leader, and the role model we need to shape the attitudes and direction of this country. Someone on the radio said, "He will cure the cancer."

As for me, I feel the nightmare of the last eight years has ended. It was hard to believe that nightmare. Now I must pinch myself to be sure I am not dreaming.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Monday, October 27, 2008

Monday, October 6, 2008

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Numbing Numbers

This is pretty thick, but worth reading and pondering. We found it on Daily Kos, and this essay appeared on at least two other websites on September 21st.
Almost no one is mentioning “credit default swaps.” Looks like this is the heart of the problem. The numbers are humongous. It should make everyone suspicious of the bailout proposition, especially the way they are trying to rush it through.

Three Times is Enemy Action

by Devilstower
Sun Sep 21, 2008 at 06:03:41 AM PDT

“Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is Enemy Action.”
– Auric Goldfinger

James Bond’s wealthy nemesis may have had an obsession with gold, but he judged, quite correctly, that if people keep putting your plans awry, that was likely their intent.

In 1982, the same year John McCain entered the Senate, a bill was put forward that would substantially deregulate the Savings and Loan industry. The Garn-St. Germain Depository Institutions Act was an initiative of the Reagan administration, and was largely authored by lobbyists for the S&L industry — including John McCain’s warm-up speaker at the convention, Fred Thompson. The official description of the bill was “An act to revitalize the housing industry by strengthening the financial stability of home mortgage lending institutions and ensuring the availability of home mortgage loans.” Considering where things stand in 2008, that may sound dubious. It should.

Seven years later, the S&L industry was collapsing. What was the cause? Garn-St. Germain handed the S&Ls a greatly expanded range of capabilities, allowing them to go head to head with full service banks, but it didn’t give them the bank’s regulations. Left to operate in an anarchistic gray area, S&Ls chased profits, indulged in amazing extravagances, and cranked out enough cheap mortgages to fuel a real estate boom. They also experimented with lots of complex, creative — and risky — investments, even though they didn’t have the economic models to really determine the worth of the things they were buying. The result was a mountain of bad debts and worthless “assets.” Does any of that sound eerily (or nauseatingly) familiar?

It wasn’t a foregone conclusion. In 1985, three years after the deregulation of the S&Ls, the chairman of the Federal Home Loan Bank Board saw that the situation was already looking shaky, with the potential to become much worse. He instituted a rule to limit the amounts and types of investments S&Ls could carry on their books in an effort to head off disaster. However, many savings and loans — among them Lincoln Savings & Loan Association of Irvine , CA, which was headed by a fellow named Charles Keating — promptly ignored these rules.

Now enters a familiar cast of characters. First to pop up was the universally beloved Fed-chief-to-be, Alan Greenspan. Greenspan argued against the loan board’s new rules, and persuaded Reagan to appoint one of Keating’s pals to the board to blunt the requirements. A quintet of senators, among them John McCain, began having meetings with both the management at Lincoln and the regulators at the loan board. ] Alan Greenspan also helped out with a letter to the regulators, asking that Lincoln be exempt from the new rules. With their help of Greenspan and their pet senators, Lincoln was able to stay in business an additional two years, at the end of which they failed — taking the life savings of 21,000, mostly elderly, investors with them.

How involved was John McCain? McCain and Keating had known each other since 1981 and had become fast friends. Of all the “Keating Five,” it was McCain who moved into the life of the Lincoln S&L chief. The two men vacationed together multiple times, with the whole McCain clan (babysitter included) heading out for Keating’s private Caribbean property on Keating’s private jet. McCain didn’t think to actually report these trips, or pay for them, until the investigators were breathing down his neck. And McCain took his payment in the form of more than just vacations. Keating and other members of Lincoln ’s parent company padded McCain’s pockets with $112,000 in campaign contributions.

In John McCain’s biography, he called his meetings with Keating and regulators “the worst mistake of my life,” though from the text you’d think this was a spur of the moment decision, not something that McCain did repeatedly over a space of years. Still, you might think that a “worst mistake” would stay fresh in his memory.

It certainly didn’t fade quickly for the country. Following the S&L crisis, the Resolution Trust Company was formed to swallow up the debt of Lincoln and 746 other S&Ls gone wild, and taxpayers were left with the $125 billion bill. The resulting budget deficit forced cutbacks in other programs. The artificial real estate boom collapsed and housing starts fell to their lowest levels in decades. Finally, the whole nation settled in for a period nasty enough that three years later someone could still campaign around the idea “It’s the economy, stupid.”

Even so, by 1999 Phil Gramm — who had entered the Senate two years after McCain and quickly become the economic guru of the Keating Five maverick — put forward the Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act. This Act passed out of the Senate on a party line vote with 100% Republican support, including that of John McCain. (To be fair, the bill eventually passed again with a wide margin following revisions in the House.)

This act repealed part of the Glass-Steagall Act. This may sound like a bunch of Congressperson soup, but the gist of it is that Glass-Steagall was put in place in 1933 to control the rampant speculation that had helped cause the collapse of banking at the outset of the depression, and to prevent such consolidation of the banks that the nation had all its eggs in one fiscal basket.

Gramm-Leach-Bliley reversed those rules, allowing not only more bank mergers, but for banks to become directly involved in the stock market, bonds, and insurance. Remember the bit about how S&Ls failed because they didn’t have the regulations that protected banks? After Gramm-Leach-Bliley, banks didn’t have that protection either.

Gramm wasn’t done. The next year he was back with the Commodity Futures Modernization Act, which was slipped into a “must pass” spending bill on the last day of the 106th Congress. This Act greatly expanded the scope of futures trading, created new vehicles for speculation, and sheltered several investments from regulation.

As with both Gramm-Leach-Bliley and Garn-St. Germain, large parts of this bill were written by industry lobbyists. This famously included the “Enron Loophole” that exempted energy trading from regulation and was written by (big suprise) Enron Lobbyists working with Gramm. Not coincidentally, Senator Gramm, the second largest recipient of campaign contributions from Enron, was also key to legislating the deregulation of California ’s energy commodity trading.

Thanks to this fortunate trifecta of Gramm-crafted legislation, Enron was able to create “EnronOnline” and trade electricity in California with absolutely no oversight or transparency.

They quickly worked out how to game the system. Previously, there had been only one Stage 3 rolling blackout in the history of California . Within months, the system had been manipulated by traders to generate 38 such blackouts and wholesale electrical prices had gone up more than 3000%. Despite production capacity equal to four times the demand during winter, energy traders even engineered a blackout in mid-January.

During the confusion of these deliberate “shortages” and “price spikes,” the California administration of Gray Davis — blind to speculator manipulations because of the walls erected by Gramm’s legislation — was forced to sign energy contracts at enormous rates. There was little choice, because most of California ’s public utilities were on the brink of bankruptcy from the rising wholesale prices.

In a single year, Gramm’s legislation allowed speculators to bring the state to its knees. Enron alone looted California of $11 billion. The manipulations of the energy market were also a major factor in Davis getting the hook, helped usher the governator into power, and they still have repercussions in California ’s budget battles today. By the end of that year, the depth of Enron’s deception could no longer be hidden, and the whole company came crashing down in the largest bankruptcy in history — at the time. This brought more billions lost in mutual funds and pension funds across the country, and played a major role in the economic downturn of 2001.

But that was only the second act. The combination of Gramm-Leach-Bliley and the Commodity Futures Modernization Act was a toxic cocktail whose total damage was greater than the sum of its parts.

The first Act promoted bank buyouts and mergers that reached such an insane pitch that the average consumer could only keep up by tracking the changing names on their checks and credit cards. Mercantile buys Ameribanc and Mark Twain. Firstar buys Federated and First Colonial. US Bancorp buys Mercantile and Firstar. And, because it allowed brokerages and insurance companies to mingle with banks, the Act cemented a trend that was already (and illegally) underway in which all those terms had become rather quaint. Is Wachovia a savings bank, an investment bank, a brokerage, or an insurance provider? The answer is “yes.”

In allowing financial institutions to grow to Godzilla-sized proportions, Gramm-Leach-Bliley helped ensure that we would have financial entities that were “too big to fail.” Rather than choosing to enforce rules that kept these institutions apart, the deregulators chose to create monster bankeragasurances whose downfall (and existence) was enough to threaten the whole system.

But if Gramm-Leach-Bliley removed the limits on size and scope, these new institutions still needed fuel. With many financial transactions operating on razor thin margins, and increasing automation sapping the profits from trading of all sorts, they needed a new way to generate the funds required to swallow their brethren in the merged fiscal corporation pond. For that, the Commodity Futures Modernization Act was a godsend.

Among those instruments which the CFMA sheltered from regulatory scrutiny was something called the “credit default swap.” A kind of insurance one bank could exchange with another, credit default swaps supposedly made it safe for banks to take on ever riskier forms of debt. The Act didn’t invent these swaps, though they were relatively new. Instead, by placing them in a state where they were not only unregulated but almost perfectly opaque, credit default swaps were turned into the perfect vehicle to fuel a Wall Street revolution. No one had any idea what these things were actually worth, they were traded “over the counter” without being administered by any exchange, and even the SEC could monitor their existence only indirectly.

Who would cheer for a new kind of financial instrument that was difficult to understand, invisible to regulators, and impossible for even the whizziest of Wall Street whiz kids to value? Guess.

More recently, instruments that are more complex and less transparent–such as credit default swaps, collateralized debt obligations, and credit-linked notes–have been developed and their use has grown very rapidly in recent years. The result? Improved credit-risk management together with more and better risk-management tools appear to have significantly reduced loan concentrations in telecommunications and, indeed, other areas and the associated stress on banks and other financial institutions.
–Alan Greenspan, 2002

Get that? Greenspan loved credit default swaps. He opined again and again that such instruments would be the salvation of the industry by spreading around risks. To the mighty Greenspan, both their complexity and their lack of transparency were good things, since swaps would only be handled by the big boys who knew how to play with fire.

When questioned about his support of Gramm’s legislation, John McCain called his friend (and by then, campaign co-chair) Gramm “one of the smartest people in the world on the economy” and pointed out that Greenspan also favored the acts Gramm and his coalition of lobbyists had authored. If both Gramm and Greenspan were on his side, McCain couldn’t possibly be in the wrong.

Except, of course, that he could.

From the beginning, there were plenty of people in the financial community whose opinion of these unregulated credit swaps was not as rosy as that of Gramm, Greenspan, and McCain. Chief among those speaking in opposition was SEC Chairman, Arthur Levitt. Levitt argued that what the industry needed was more transparency, especially when it came to complex instruments like default swaps, and he testified to this before Gramm’s Senate Banking Committee,.

“In my judgment, the risk of this regulatory approach is simply unacceptable for America ’s investors.”
–Arthur Levitt, 1999

Gramm paid no attention.

Credit default swaps did allow the banks to share risks. So much so, that banks raced each other in an effort to find more risks. They made it possible for the down payment on homes to become 3%, 1%, 0%. Skip the credit check, avoid the employment requirements, damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead! We’ve got a credit default swap, we can do anything!

The encouragement and “safety” that credit default swaps provided made the sub-prime mortgage market possible. Just as with the deregulation of S&Ls in the 1980s, the market was suddenly flooded with easy credit. The result was a real estate boom, soaring home prices, and a plague of “Flip that House!” shows on cable.

As the banks piled up crappy mortgages, they heaped on ever more of the credit default swaps — and they still had no idea how to value the things. Worse, they began to trade the swaps themselves as if they were an investment, treating them like something worth holding instead of a big bundle of cartoon bombs whose fuses were already lit. Since very few loans were falling into default at the time, owning a default swap seemed like a way to collect fees without ever paying out. Banks wanted more, and more, and more.

A secondary market for trading swaps exploded into existence, and swaps were traded with absolutely no consideration for the nature or quality of the underlying investment. Swaps changed hands a dozen or more times, growing in “value” as they went. Worse still, no one regulated who could buy a swap, so it was (and is) perfectly possible for a company to acquire swaps that theoretically cover billions of dollars in loans, even if that company doesn’t have a red cent on hand to cover those swaps should the loans default.

· How big did this market become? Here’s business correspondent Bob Moon and host Kai Ryssdal on American Public Media’s Marketplace from back in the spring.

· BOB MOON: OK, I’m about to unload some numbers on you here, so I’ll speak slowly so you can follow this.

· The value of the entire U.S. Treasuries market: $4.5 trillion.

· The value of the entire mortgage market: $7 trillion.

· The size of the U.S. stock market: $22 trillion.

· OK, you ready?

· The size of the credit default swap market last year: $45 trillion.

· KAI RYSSDAL: That’s a lot of money, Bob.

· As in three times the whole US gross domestic product, Bob. And the truth is that Moon probably underestimated. The unregulated and poorly reported credit default swaps may have actually passed $70 trillion last year, or about $5 trillion more than the GDP of the entire world.

· So, are you starting to get an idea of just how big a genie Phil Gramm and his pals unleashed?

With some regularity over the last eight years, fiscal whistle blowers have tried to raise their hands and register a protest. Um, sirs? Is it altogether a good idea to run up debts exceeding all the assets it’s even possible to hold? But so long as no one actually had to pay off on the swaps, the party went on. Even usually conservative (in the fiscal sense) companies like AIG started to worry that they were being left behind and leapt headlong into the swap pool.

Shortly after Greenspan’s departure in 2006, the Federal Reserve took the unusual step of issued a joint statement along with the SEC to warn about the risks associated with credit default swaps. But by that point, the damage was already severe. If swaps lost their value, most of those who had played the game would find their giant firms abruptly valued in pocket change. The only solution was to cover the problem with still more swaps and keep moving.

Then a funny thing happened. After years in which banks had handed out loans willy-nilly, guarded by the indestructible swap, people and companies started to really default on those loans. Credit slowed, home prices fell, and the whole snake started to eat itself tail first.

Suddenly, credit default swaps were not sources of limitless cash. It turns out that an insurance policy — even a secret, unregulated policy — is occasionally expected to pay. Speculators started to look at the paper they were holding and for the first time realized it could all be worthless. Worse, it could (and did) represent a massive debt; one that no one had the funds to cover.

When Bear Stearns fell apart last March, it was only suspected that a big part of the effort in saving the giant investment bank was keeping their holdings in credit default swaps from unraveling and spreading to other institutions. Naturally, part of solving this problem involved creating a new credit default swap to cover Bear Stearn’s potential debt. But the all-purpose swap was starting to lose its power. Shortly after Bear Stearns went belly up, AIG reported the largest quarterly loss in the company’s history, taking a $11 billion hit on revaluing its holdings of swaps. The party was definitely coming to a close.

When AIG finally collapsed this week, there was no doubt about the primary cause of its failure. The previously well grounded company had “gotten itself involved with something called credit default swaps.” Point of irony alert: Arthur Levitt now serves on the AIG board… or at least he did until the government had to take over most of AIG to salvage the company from the very idiocy Levitt had warned of in 1999.

This week, the Bush administration announced the beginnings of a plan to salvage what remains of the financial markets. At first glance, it appears that the plan will consist mainly of creating a kind of “garbage pit,” a fund or group of funds — cousins of the Resolution Trust that was created during the S&L crisis — into which those people who have dabbled in bad debts can toss their problems. Only this time the cost to the taxpayers is at least $700 billion… and a big bite out of representative democracy.

The expansion of unregulated Savings and Loans in the 1980s brought on the collapse of that industry, a crippling of the economy, and left taxpayers holding the bag. Maybe that was only happenstance. Those pushing for the Garn-St. Germain Depository Institutions Act may not have known what they were doing.

The deregulation of the California electricity market, along with the protections provided to Enron through Phil Gramm’s lobbyist-written legislation brought blackouts, fiscal and political chaos, and left taxpayers holding the bag. But the people who engineered that event — people like Gramm and Greenspan — had already seen what happened with the S&Ls. They should have known better. Still, perhaps that was only coincidence.

The sub-prime mortgage crisis that has not only come so close to utterly destroying the markets, but has ruined the value of many people’s homes and left millions with mortgages they can’t pay, was also the outcome of the deregulation created by these men. The very predictable outcome. When taxpayers are left holding the bag for $1 trillion this time around, it’s hard to believe it’s any sort of accident.

This is enemy action. This is a bullet deliberately fired into the economy by men willing to exercise their ideology regardless of the cost to taxpayers. Men who have every expectation that they can plunder the system again and again, while the public picks up the tab. John McCain may not have had his finger directly on the trigger, but he was there. He assisted. These were his personal friends and philosophical comrades. He may not be the high priest, but he has been a loyal acolyte in the cult of deregulation.

It may come as a surprise to the champions of deregulation, but nobody likes regulation. The restrictions that were placed on banks, S&Ls, and other institutions in the 1930s weren’t put there because someone thought it would be fun. They were put in place because they addressed problems that had just been clearly and painfully revealed. They were put in place because they were necessary.

It’s bad enough if John McCain didn’t know that. It’s far worse if he did.

Monday, September 15, 2008

We should have listened.

We should have listened 40 years ago.

Friday, July 11, 2008

What-a-Jolly-Street

First let me explain that on Lopez Island is a dump and recycling center where a man named Neil sorts and arranges those things that are reusable and opens his "store" a couple days a week for people to come and get anything they can use. People on the island donate items they no longer need. It's like a Goodwill, but free. It comes from the problem of being on an island where waste disposal is a challenge, and where people believe in reusing things instead of buying everything new. It's an inconvenience to go to a big shopping area to buy things, too. You have to spend an hour or more in transit by ferry, just to get to the mainland. Then there's the car trip to Seattle.

When we went to Lopez Island, I wanted to go to Neil's Mall (aka The Dump). Not because I wanted to bring home a bunch more stuff. No, this time I planned to bring back very little. After all, I've been going through closets and trying to get rid of stuff, so why would I want to bring more stuff home?

But I knew, I just had a feeling, that there would be something special there that would mean something to me. I just had a strong intuition about that. It would be something that really didn't matter to anyone else, but it would be meaningful to me. I thought I would find it in the book section, or on the shelves near the books. But I wasn't sure it would be a book. I thought maybe it would be a box or something. I had a sense about the size of it.. that it would be about 10 or 12 inches by 7 or 8 inches, and maybe two or three inches deep. It was a vague feeling and I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it, not consciously anyway.

When we got there, I briefly scanned the clothing, found a couple of items that looked cool, including a vintage flannel shirt with funny dogs on it and a black sweater with silver star buttons. I put them in the car and then walked over to the book section. My eyes scanned the shelves. (I'm always hoping to find Opal Whitely's "The Fairyland Around Us" but I don't expect to. I missed my opportunity for that one, the time I passed it by at Smith Family Books, before I knew who Opal Whitely was, back in 1989 or so.) Anyway, I didn't even have to search for the book I had come for. It was lying right on top of a stack of books on the childrens' shelf: "365 Bedtime Stories."

There was the familiar scene on the cover, brightly colored, the one I remember so well from my childhood, of old Mrs. Apricot telling stories to the neighborhood children. I think it was my sister's book, actually. We used to call it "What-a-Jolly-Street" instead of the actual title, because that was the name of the street that the characters lived on. Every page holds a different short story, one for each day of the year. It begins with Baby New Year and ends with Father Time. Okay, so my sister and I used to think the book was a bit silly, the name of the street especially so. Some of the stories were quite boring. We made fun of it.. but it inspired stories I wrote of made-up kids in made-up neighborhoods. And I remember well the map on the inside of the book cover. It depicted the homes on the street, where the children lived, and the school and Mrs. Apricot's house, all labeled with a key.

So I picked up the book and opened it. Printed on non-archival paper, the pages are evenly yellowing. It seemed so familiar that I was surprised to find that it was not the actual book that belonged to my sister. But there is no writing inside, and we always wrote our names in our books. The spine had been carefully mended with clear tape. The hard cover is cardboard, which is also disintegrating at the edges. The copyright is 1955. Overall the book is in good shape, considering the material it's made of.

When I got home, I googled it. I found that other revised editions were published later, and apparently this version is the original. It is a collector's item now. But for me, it's a memory. I can hardly wait to show it to my sister!

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Frightening Plants

Blackberries in Oregon are delicious, free and plentiful. In August I carry a couple of small buckets in my car at all times, just in case I come across a blackberry patch. Some of my friends carry garden clippers, because it's easier and less wounding to clip the thorny vines away before reaching for the berries. However, there is danger, in addition to the spikes on the branches.. poison oak lurks among the blackberry brambles.

About 24 hours after contact with the toxic oil from the poison oak plant, my skin develops large yellow fluid-filled blisters. The itchiness is unbearable. The torment lasts for 2 - 3 weeks. I have to take prednisone to quiet the allergic reaction, which can continue up to a month as my body inflames, trying to fight the toxins in my system. Everything reacts, I become irritable and itchy skin becomes tender and painful, sending pain down to the very roots of the nerves.

One time at age 17, while hiking with friends, I came into direct contact with so much poison oak that my left arm swelled into a blimp shape. Trails of yellow blisters evidenced the track the branch had left as it brushed my arm. I still have the scar, a long white line, where the blisters broke. That was before I knew what the plant looked like.

"Leaflets three, let it be." But lots of plants have leaves of three.But I know what poison oak looks like. The shiny oil makes the leaves glisten, especially in spring and summer. They turn vibrant red in autumn. People have said that you can't get poison oak in winter. They are wrong. All parts of the plant carry the toxic oil.

I can't even pet animals that live in areas where there is poison oak. I can't live in the woods or in the country, because I love cats. They bring the oil home on their fur. I've had friends who were offended when I wouldn't pet their dog because they live near open fields where poison oak grows. I love animals and I'd love more than anything to pet them and play with them. But people just don't understand what this plant does to me.

Once when we had a French girl staying with us for the summer and we went out to pick blackberries, I warned her about this plant that could make you break out in a horrible rash. She didn't believe me. She thought I was playing a trick on her. I guess they don't have poison oak or ivy in France.

Thankfully there is Fels Naptha bar soap. It's a detergent, which is necessary to break down the oil from the plant. Other products, like Technu, have been developed, but in my experience, Fels Naptha works much better, and it's far cheaper. I'm never without it on a camping trip. My friends' father was a volunteer fire fighter, and that's what they always washed with after coming back from fighting fires. It will dilute the oil, if used within two hours of exposure. Then, of course, you must also wash all of your clothes immediately. The oil stays potent for a long time, I'm not sure how long. But that's why it can seem like you can start healing, only to have it get worse again. Since it takes 24-48 hours for the allergic reaction to begin, it's sometimes hard to pinpoint the source of the contaminant.

I took pictures on my walk yesterday, laughing at myself for the fear reaction I was having. I knew I didn't touch it. And it can't jump out an attack. Or can it? When I got home I showered with Fels Naptha.

The next morning I woke up with my heel itching intensely. Looking down, I saw the distictive yellow fluid-filled blister. Impossible! I had been wearing shoes and socks! But I wore sandals at other times.. so apparently sometime in the previous day or two, I had come into contact with a tiny glossy leaflet three, lurking somewhere in the grass where I had been walking...

Monday, June 30, 2008

From under the bed

I've been cleaning out the file cabinets and going through the boxes under the bed. Here are some things I found. Most come from when Heather was age 4 thru 8 years old.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

There’s an ANGE in chANGE.

The night before his visit, we heard that Obama would be coming to the University of Oregon. On the news we saw them setting up the outdoor stage in front of the Knight Library. He was due to arrive at 7:45 PM Friday, and gates were going to open at 5:45. This was incredible luck -- he was coming back to Eugene at a time when I could go see him without missing work! I could leave school after my last class, and we could arrive to get in line a couple of hours before the gates opened. We had been on our way to France when he came in March, but I heard that people started lining up really early, and not all of the 11,000 people got in. (However, he stopped and addressed the people outside, and spoke to them for about 15 minutes.)

Anyway, Joy and I had agreed that if Obama ever came to Oregon we would try to go together. She did see him in Salem in March, but we couldn’t go together at that time, so I called her as soon as I heard about this visit to Eugene. She said she’d talk with her husband and would call me back after dinner. When she did, she said that her husband wasn’t coming, but another friend from our elementary school, Carol P., wanted to drive down with her. I haven’t seen Carol since 6th grade. So this added another fascinating dimension to an already amazing episode about to unfold.

I have a little bit of hand-shaking history with previous presidential candidates.

I am proud to say that I was fortunate to shake Bobby Kennedy’s hand when he came to Sunset High School in 1968. I wasn’t yet old enough to vote, but I was passionately interested in the election that year. I will never forget it.

By mere chance, I was able to shake Bill Clinton’s hand at the Eugene airport in 1992. It was a small crowd and Heather was four. He looked me directly in the eye and he was very intense. He is a tall man, but he was dwarfed by four very black secret service agents towering above and tightly encircling him, penetrating the crowd intently with their gaze. The whole experience was very intense and I’m glad to have been there. But I can’t say I am proud to have shaken Bill Clinton’s hand.

But I didn’t expect to have a chance to shake Obama’s hand. I was grateful that I would have the opportunity to see him in person, but I did not expect to be able to get close.

Joy and I agreed to keep in touch by cell phone and find each other once they got here. She and Carol aren’t familiar with Eugene or the UO campus. She said that they would leave in time to find us in line around 5:30. It thought it was cool they were coming down, but I frankly thought it would be a miracle if we found each other in the crowd. So I went into this, thinking it best just to go with the flow, and I had no expectations of everything meshing.

Amazing things..
• Spring sunshine, lilac-scented air, skies pure blue, shirt sleeve weather.
• At 3:45 PM when we arrived downtown, we noticed no unusually heavy traffic. It was easy to find a parking place in a neighborhood about five blocks from campus.
• All the streets were marked with 2-hour parking limits, but no meters. The limit expired at 6:00 PM, 2 hours and 15 minutes away. We were discussing whether to risk getting a ticket for the extra 15 minutes. I advocated for the risk – wasn’t seeing Obama worth a $10 ticket? Besides, I was pretty sure that all the police in town would be occupied at the rally and other events on campus. Just as we were getting out of the car, the meter maid approached in her little cart. Daniel asked her if we would get a ticket if we left the car. She grinned and said, “No problem, you’re fine!” She wasn’t chalking the tires on this round; she was just checking for chalk marks. It must have been her last time through and she was on her way to the rally, too (I’m guessing).
• We walked up 13th Street and approaching campus we could see the colorful booths of the international street fair. One block in to campus, we saw a row of white canopies with security gates set up between Condon and Chaplain Halls, directly across from Lillis Business complex. Uniformed men and women were working to set up the gates, arranging the long black trunks they had been packed in and getting organized. But where were the crowds of people we expected?
• Other than the security gates, the overall atmosphere was a typical spring day on the university campus. Technicolor blue sky, verdant green lawns, rainbow tie-dye blowing in the gentle breeze at the street fair. It was like a scene straight out of the movie, “Across the Universe.” Students sprawled on grassy lawns, alone or in groups, reading, studying, talking on cell phones. Everything seemed so laid back, typical Eugene-style. And this was where Obama was due to arrive in less than four hours? We looked around in disbelief, then settled down in the sunshine on the grass. Heather went off to browse the street fair. After teaching on my feet all day, it felt wonderful to rest my achy back on soft grass, my head in Daniel’s lap. I almost drifted off to sleep in the warm sunshine. Heather returned with a vegetarian burrito. It felt like a moment made in heaven.
• Eventually a short rotund uniformed policewoman approached, telling us that she had been instructed to clear the lawn. She directed us to go to the line, which was forming at the EMU (student union), a couple of blocks away. A few people got up and walked off in the direction of the EMU. We thought, oh well, it was too good to be true, and started to follow. But after speaking with one or two groups on the grass, the police woman stationed herself in front of the gates and did not move. Several groups of people remained on the grass. I walked over and asked her what their plan was, and she shrugged and said, “I was just told to clear this area,” indicating the patch of grass in front of the gates.
• Awhile later, a young man with a staff badge stood up on a stump and announced in a loud voice that everyone needed to clear the lawn and go to the line. “There are still some good places in line! You should go there now and secure your spot!” His urgency prodded a few more lollygaggers to jump up off the lawn and hurry down in the direction of the EMU.
• It was so pleasant hanging out on the lawn that I just did not want to give that up to go stand in a crowded line of people several blocks away. Even if it did mean getting a spot further back in line, I was willing to risk that. The more I looked around, the more I doubted they would be able to clear the street or block people from entering from 13th St. We walked a ways toward the EMU, and we asked various officials – secret servicemen, city policemen on bikes and campaign staffers – what the plan was. We calculated how they might be planning to bring the line through to the gates. We watched a few of the vendors slowly packing up their wares. By 5:00 most of the booths were still standing, people were still browsing and shopping and it was clear that there was no way they would be able to block the street. And everyone we spoke to said there were no plans to do that. The only place they were keeping cleared was the lawn in front of the security gates.
• I had been giving cell phone updates to Joy and Carol, who were on the road. They would need to find a place to park, and then find us on campus. To direct them to 13th St. was easy. It would have been harder to explain how to get to the EMU to find us in a long line. We decided to take our chances. We found a comfortable spot on a wall in front of Condon Hall and waited.
• We saw three Obama supporters wearing home made t-shirts printed with OBAMA vs HILLARY – BROs B4 HOs. Not something I would wear on a t-shirt, but I asked if I could take their picture. They were chipper and friendly, and funny! They said they would not get near enough for a photo with Obama in those shirts, because they didn’t want the media to grab it and accuse him of endorsing the slogan. This struck me as surprisingly insightful.
• I got a call that Joy and Carol had arrived in Eugene. They had mistakenly taken the wrong exit, but they found their way across the Ferry Street Bridge. I directed them to the neighborhood where we had parked, they found a spot and were already walking toward us on 13th St. by 5:30. Thus, they met up with us two minutes before the gates opened! We had time for hasty hugs and greetings.. and then..
• We walked right up without a fuss and passed through security. They searched everything, but they let Carol pass with her bag of provisions. I didn’t expect that. Carol and Joy needed to find a restroom, so we split up.
• Daniel, Heather and I went to the front of the stage. But Daniel went off to the left over on the side, standing at a bike rack rail barricade. He motioned me over, saying that the secret service guy guarding the door to the adjoining Art Museum told him that Obama would be coming out through those doors, and he would shake hands with the crowd right there before going up on the stage. So that’s where we positioned ourselves. We still had 2 hours to wait.
• Joy and Carol arrived just minutes later (I forgot to ask where they had found a bathroom). Joy had brought her deck of cards with bizarre pictures of GW Bush dressed in drag and morphed versions of dogs. It was a distracting set of cards to play gin rummy with, but we sat on the warm cement and played a round of cards as people gathered behind us. It was fun.. but we couldn’t concentrate. Every once in awhile Joy would put down a card and interject, “Oh look, he’s a dog on that one,” which caused me to giggle at the silliness of it all. I didn’t know when the game was supposed to end.. so I played past when I should have stopped!
• It was fascinating to watch the people, and all the goings-on around us. Finally we gave up on the card game and stood up.
• A golden-curlylocks toddler suddenly pulled down his pants and started to take a tinkle in the middle of the lawn. His mother dashed across, shooing him to another place on the other side of the sidewalk, so he could leave his pee in the Museum garden. We were laughing like crazy, and of course I whipped out my camera, not quite catching the funniest moment before mom intervened.
• The bleachers behind the stage were gradually being filled with people, directed by a staffer who had been pulling supporters from the line at the EMU. He arranged them according to how they would show up on TV behind the stage. It was a multicultural, multiage mix of men and women. Many were white middle-aged women, stereotypical Hillary voters. (I had actually joked about carrying a sign that said “White Middle-Aged Woman for Obama” but I wouldn’t actually do it.. I am so against these generalizations about how people will vote based on their demographic. That’s like trying to guess how people think based on how they look. It’s ridiculous.)
• Speaking of signs, they passed out mass-produced signs to the audience that said “CHANGE WE CAN BELIEVE IN” and the bleacher people were given hand-painted signs with various slogans. It was supposed to look like they were home made, but they were evidently painted by the same person with different colors of paint. Actually I didn’t see a single home made sign. I think this rally was on too short notice.
• A variety of music genres was blasting from huge speakers. Some folk, rock, pop, old and new, but all of it upbeat and inspirational. It set a happy tone and I watched some of the young people mouth the words to songs I had never heard. Other songs were familiar, ones I knew well enough to sing along with.
• Watching the secret service men held its own drama. They were dressed in black suits and white shirts, of course. Their shoes were polished to a high gloss. They wore characteristic gold lapel pins. Earlier some were wearing sun glasses like the Blues Brothers. They had earpieces attached to wires that went down into their coats. I saw one man speak into his hand, but I didn’t see a mic. It looked like he was speaking directly into the knuckle of his thumb. One man in particular looked the stereotype of the military man: bristly brush crew-cut, jutting chin, and muscle-built stature. Overall, their faces remained serious, but most didn’t appear to be under high tension.
• At one point, another secret service agent approached that man and said something into his ear. Suddenly the serious demeanor broke into a huge grin. The two men began taking off their ties! They folded them meticulously and tucked them in a pocket inside their jackets. They unbuttoned their collars and we watched as these same actions were repeated by all the secret service agents on the scene. This was just cracking me up! I mean.. they were supposed to start to appear casual (this is Oregon after all!) but even that was a formalized ritual that obviously came in the form of an order from a superior officer!
• All this time a very small elf-like girl-person had been weaseling her way up behind us. She was exactly half my height. She persistently pushed at our backs, determined to secure a spot in front. Eventually I turned to her and asked her to give me a little space. I told her, “When he comes out, I’m going to let you stand here, so don’t worry.” After that, she moved back a little, and we made room for her between us. She did not speak English, but apparently understood what was said to her. She had a pen and tablet ready for an autograph and her tiny hands handled her camera with dexterity. I noticed that the digital menu was in Asian characters; I think she was Korean. At first I thought she was a very small college student, but at the end of the rally, after she told me “Thank you” I asked her age. I could barely understand, and had to ask her to repeat. She replied, “ee-reb-en.” (11)
• Soon the nervous and excited girl who is the UO student body president, came onstage, then Ernie Kent, then Peter DeFazio. Each gave a very brief speech. I kept watching the glass doors, planning how I would take photos. I decided to put the camera on video setting so that I wouldn’t have to set up camera shots while trying to shake Obama’s hand. I held the camera in my left hand, so I could shake hands with my right.
• Behind the glass doors I could see flashes of Obama’s smile. He’d peek out at the crowd, and he was laughing.. you could tell that he was having a great time!
• Finally he came out. As we had been told, he began by going through the crowd where we were standing, both hands outreached, shaking as many hands as possible. I didn’t know it, but Daniel had it planned what he wanted to say. He later told me that Obama looked him right in the eye when Daniel said, “Remember the plug-in hybrid – it’s the future.” And Obama nodded and told him, “I won’t forget.”
• The rest is history. He gave his speech as the twilight became night. The sky indigo blue. The crowd loving the fact that we finally have an American hero, someone willing to sacrifice for the love of this country and its people. Someone who believes in the power of change.

It was a perfectly magical evening.

Friday, April 18, 2008

ABC's Deplorable Debate

This letter says so well what I was thinking when I watched the debate on Wednesday night. Mostly, I felt angry that the moderators wasted our time with so much dribble. This open letter appears on Economist’s View.

April 18, 2008
An Open Letter to ABC about the Presidential Debate

We the undersigned deplore the conduct of ABC’s George Stephanopoulos and Charles Gibson at the Democratic Presidential debate on April 16. The debate was a revolting descent into tabloid journalism and a gross disservice to Americans concerned about the great issues facing the nation and the world. This is not the first Democratic or Republican presidential debate to emphasize gotcha questions over real discussion. However, it is, so far, the worst.

For 53 minutes, we heard no question about public policy from either moderator. ABC seemed less interested in provoking serious discussion than in trying to generate cheap shot sound-bites for later rebroadcast. The questions asked by Mr. Stephanopoulos and Mr. Gibson were a disgrace, and the subsequent attempts to justify them by claiming that they reflect citizens’ interest are an insult to the intelligence of those citizens and ABC’s viewers. Many thousands of those viewers have already written to ABC to express their outrage.

The moderators’ occasional later forays into substance were nearly as bad. Mr. Gibson’s claim that the government can raise revenues by cutting capital gains tax is grossly at odds with what taxation experts believe. Both candidates tried, repeatedly, to bring debate back to the real problems faced by ordinary Americans. Neither moderator allowed them to do this.

We’re at a crucial moment in our country’s history, facing war, a terrorism threat, recession, and a range of big domestic challenges. Large majorities of our fellow Americans tell pollsters they’re deeply worried about the country’s direction. In such a context, journalists moderating a debate–who are, after all, entrusted with free public airwaves–have a particular responsibility to push and engage the candidates in serious debate about these matters. Tough, probing questions on these issues clearly serve the public interest. Demands that candidates make pledges about a future no one can predict or excessive emphasis on tangential “character” issues do not. This applies to candidates of both parties.

Neither Mr. Gibson nor Mr. Stephanopoulos lived up to these responsibilities. In the words of Tom Shales of the Washington Post, Mr. Gibson and Mr. Stephanopoulos turned in “shoddy, despicable performances.” As Greg Mitchell of Editor and Publisher, describes it, the debate was a “travesty.” We hope that the public uproar over ABC’s miserable showing will encourage a return to serious journalism in debates between the Democratic and Republican nominees this fall. Anything less would be a betrayal of the basic responsibilities that journalists owe to their public.

Spencer Ackerman, The Washington Independent
Eric Alterman, City University of New York
Dean Baker, The American Prospect Online
Steven Benen, The Carpetbagger Report
Julie Bergman Sender, Balcony Films
Ari Berman, The Nation
Brian Beutler, The Media Consortium
Michael Bérubé, Crooked Timber, Penn. State University
Joel Bleifuss, In These Times
Sam Boyd, The American Prospect
Lakshmi Chaudry, In These Times
Michael Cohen, The New America Foundation
Lark Corbeil, Public News Service
Brad DeLong, Brad DeLong’s Semi-Daily Journal and UC Berkeley
Adam Doster, In These Times
Kevin Drum, The Washington Monthly
Gerald Dworkin, UC Davis
Henry Farrell, Crooked Timber,George Washington University
James Galbraith, University of Texas at Austin
Todd Gitlin, Columbia University, TPM Cafe
Merrill Goozner (formerly Chicago Tribune)
Ilan Goldenberg, The National Security Network
Arthur Goldhammer, Harvard University
Robert Greenwald, Brave New Films
Chris Hayes, The Nation
Don Hazen, Alternet
Michael Kazin, Georgetown University
Ed Kilgore, The Democratic Strategist
Charlie Kireker, Air America Media
Richard Kim, The Nation
Ezra Klein, The American Prospect
Mark Kleiman, The Reality Based Community, UCLA
Scott McLemee, Inside Higher Ed
Ari Melber, The Nation
Rick Perlstein, Campaign for America’s Future
Katha Pollit, The Nation
David Roberts, Grist
Thomas Schaller, Columnist, The Baltimore Sun
Adele Stan, The Media Consortium
Jonathan Stein, Mother Jones Magazine
Rinku Sen, ColorLines Magazine
Matthew Shugart, UC San Diego
Mark Thoma, The Economist’s View
Michael Tomasky, The Guardian
Cenk Uygur, The Young Turks
Tracy Van Slyke, The Media Consortium
Kai Wright, The Root
Matthew Yglesias, The Atlantic Monthly

[Update: In case there is any confusion, I should have made clear that the letter is a group effort.]