Old Hootie threw this one at me this morning. He's been looking at all the different things he wrote in the past and keeps bringing up files that I thought were dead and gone. Here is his latest sample--it is long so unless you got some time, you better get out now while you can!
ME AND RALPH TAKE A SHOT AT THE WORLD'S PROBLEMS
(And decide to give it back to the porcupines)
OR
DIGRESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL
My computer got a worm and had to be worked on around Thanksgiving , 2005. Now this is no earth-shattering thing, but, you know, I tend to write, and it was a real hardship for me for a while. So what does a sometimes writer do when he doesn't have access to a word processor? He writes longhand. So here is a transcription of some things I wrote during that terrible time---
Saturday, December 3, 2005
We weren't all hippies! There was a great number of us who really thought that America was the greatest country in the world (even if we hadn't seen much of it.) And some of us were vocal in that belief, even to the point of placing Goldwater stickers on our cars, and, what is worse, contributing to local Republican candidates for municipal and state offices. [Supposed joke of that time--They told me that if I voted for Goldwater in 1964 that we would be engaged in a land war in Viet Nam within six months. And I did and we were!]
We liked to listen to popular or hillbilly music (one or the other, not both), and we tolerated some protest (folk) music. But, as children of the Fifties, we liked to hear groups more than single artists, love songs rather than tear'em down protest songs, and slow, sweet ballads.
I myself preferred the old hillbilly music of Lefty Frizzell, Ernest Tubb, Hank Williams and the like. When I did finally get my own stereo set I purchased these artists as well as a few of the more moderate folk groups, in addition to some gospel artists I especially admired.
I had my own apartment after I graduated from college in the early sixties. It was located a block and one-half from the local high school. My apartment consisted of a living room, bedroom, dining room, kitchen, bath, enclosed back porch and a garage; fully furnished and utilities paid, all for $65 per month. What a deal! I lived there for about a year and a half and then moved in with a guy who had just bought a house on the southside of town. He was only charging $50 per month. I lived there for about six months.
I left my job and took a month's vacation before beginning work with my new employer who offered more pay, opportunity for advancement and a great benefit package. During this vacation I became involved with the daughter of my parent's neighbors. This just didn't work out for a variety of reasons, and, a few months after we broke it up, I met the one woman who was to become my life and wife.
We shared a lot of values, didn't see eye to eye on others, but both loved hillbilly music (just then coming to be called 'country'.) We met in April, a week or so before her 20th birthday, and were married in mid-August, expecting our first child by late October and she was born eleven months and one day after we were married.
While travelling over the country for some twenty years we were exposed to all types of music, some good, some bad. We have had the experience of watching as the 'Country Music Scene' changed from old time mountain music and honky-tonk blues to pure popular music. And the world is much less for it. Country music is non-existent anymore. Hillbilly music ceased to exist (mountain, southern Appalachian, or honky-tonk) between the fifties and sixties. Everything is now electrified and has drums instead of fiddles, electric steel guitars instead of dobros, electric basses instead oif the old bull-fiddle, and is just plain loud with no meaning. I do not recall hearing too many old time country music songs which relied totally on just a chorus or one verse and a chorus. Sure, they existed, but not many of them. Most older songs had some thread of story to them. Most modern songs do not.
When it comes to meaning, it doesn't have to be glorious victory or gut-wrenching despair, either. While such songs are generally accepted as being among the greatest ones, there are those which are neither and still carry a beautiful thought. As an instance (and not hillbilly), the song "My Tani" is short and sweet, but not sickeningly so.
MY TANI
Farewell my Tani, child of a coral sea.
We dreamed of Heaven, but you've forgotten me.
Once on silver sands, we held lonesome hands.
That's why, my Tani, I cried, "Come back to me."
I loved you dearly. Why did we have to part?
Now I am lonely, here with a broken heart.
Once on silver sands, we held lonesome hands.
That's why, my Tani, I cried, "Come back to me."
That's why, my Tani, I cried, "Come back to me."
And that's it. Not saccharine, not blame-placing, just questioning, and stating the facts. He's hurt, but he'll get over it, just takes time. And probably another woman, even better, on down the line. But will he forget her and the love they shared for such a short time? Doubtful, but it makes him a better, stronger man for it.
Then, of course, there's "Green Fields", with a somewhat similar story.
GREEN FIELDS
Once, there were green fields, kissed by the sun.
Once, there were valleys, where rivers used to run.
Once, there were blue skies with white clouds up above.
Once, they were part of an everlasting love.
We were the lovers who strolled through green fields.
Green fields are gone now, parched by the sun,
Gone from the valleys where rivers used to run,
Gone with the cold wind that swept into my heart,
Gone with the lovers who let their love depart.
Where are the green fields that we used to roam?
I'll never know what made you run away.
How can I keep searching when dark clouds hide the day?
I only know there's nothing left for me,
Nothing in this wide world left for me to see.
But I'll keep on waiting, until you return.
I'll keep on waiting, until the day you learn,
You can't be happy, while your heart's on the roam.
You can't be happy, until you bring it home.
Home, to the green fields and me, once again.
He remembers how it was, the sweet love of youth, the happiness of young lovers who, maybe, were too young. She has moved on, he hasn't. He is pining away while he should be getting on with life. Sort of reminds me of the guy in "He Stopped Loving Her Today." The sentiment is there, but I don't think she'll be coming back, except maybe as a friend.
But enough of this. There's a Stanley tape in the box. Just go ahead and sing it, Ralph.
Later, same day---
Ecclesiastes tells us that there is a time for every purpose under the sun. This is true, as you don't plant potatoes in September, neither do you pick beans in February---unless you happen to live on the other side of the Equator!
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Well, aint that a kick in the backside!
Phillip Morris is placing commercials on tv extolling the benefits of NOT somking. After years, decades, scores-generations even, of promoting their cigarettes to any and all comers, a lawsuit settlement has now produced this turnaround--in the United States, anyway. Who knows what goes on beyond the borders.
But that is just the lead-in, the teaser, for what really (expletive deleted) me off. Why, oh, why, does a regulated public utility need to advertise (using ratepayer money to do it with, I might add?) In fact, why should the local public school district pay for commercial air time on tv and radio and buy space in the local newspaper promoting the district? [As an aside, I checked the recent expenditures for the district and found that it had spent approximately $25,000 last year for tv advertising!] And why do phamaceutical companies advertise drugs to the general public which can only be obtained legally through issuance of a prescription by a DEA regulated physician?
My kids think I grew up in the Dark Ages. My grandkids aren't nearly as kind--they insist it was the Stone Age. And maybe they are right. My old brain was not built to allow me to countenance improper use of language; city councils that only want to PRESENT problems, not try to SOLVE them; movie theaters that charge twice what the minimum wage is to let you see trash, but only pay their employees that same minimum wage to project it; a FAMILY sedan with a base sticker price exceeding $25,000; and many etc.'s; AND THE CONSTANT POUNDING OF INANE, INSULTING COMMERCIALS ON TELEVISION.
Look, my tv sets are 18 and 9 years old. They do not have all the bells and whistles (more noise, more noise) that newer sets have. I do use remote control devices, however, through VCR's (one of which is pretty modern, only five years old-with a DVD player, yet.) I don't own a cell phone, never have and never intend to get one of those annoying chirping birds. My telephone is hardwired and I never have a problem with batteries running down [Correction: I just discovered one of them does use batteries for the caller-id which I do not use. But without the batteries I cannot get a dial tone. It is slated for replacement next week,] and if I do have a problem, I can call the telephone company to fix it, do it myself, or, if the problem is with the telephone itself, get a new one for eight or ten dollars. [See above inset]
I admit I do have a couple of computers, both old except for the software, which is only a few years old and severely out of date [Correction: the newest one died and I had to replace it about four months back.] But they do fine, one for the kids to play games on and the other for me to pursue my hobby (genealogy), write a few letters (yes, I do still write letters on occasion), do some poetry or prose creations and keep a few miscellaneous records.
So I'm not a total hermit (although sometimes it would seem a desireable thing to be.)
But I digress--
APPALACHIAN POWER PARK--impressive sounding, isn't it? That's the name of the minor league ballpark recently built in Charleston, WV to replace the aging Watt-Powell Park on the southeast side. Impressive cost, too. The taxpayers of West Virginia, read that you and me, are saddled with millions of dollars to put a replacement ballpark in the state capital. I'll bet the folks in Martinsburg or Harpers Ferry or Weirton are really glad to know the folks in Charleston can watch minor league baseball on their dime.
But that name--Appalachian Power Park--guess who paid good hard cash for that name? If you didn't get it in one guess, STOP--LAY THIS DOWN--AND DON'T READ ANY MORE. You are in over your head. [Remember this was hand-written, so 'lay this down' is proper for the context.]
For those of you still with me, you paid for it as part of your monthly electric bill that came from any American Electric Power affiliate. They have a number of divisions so it could be any one of them. In this area, it is the original Appalachian Power Company which had its headquarters in Richmond, VA at one time. I used to send my payments there at one time (Richmond is just on the east side of the Appalachian Mountains), but now it is sent to Akron, OH (which is just on the west side of the Appalachians.)
Now, Cabell County Public Schools recently launched a series of commercials telling everyone how great their 1) teachers, 2) administrators, and 3) others, ad nauseam, are. I really have no axe to grind with the school district (except for eight or ten personal items,) but I don't approve of this idiotic expenditure of district funds. Who are they trying to impress? Sounds like preaching to the choir to me!
This is an apparent attempt to retain the student population of the district, to keep the kids from enrolling in the various church or other private schools now in existence and in the future. I recognize that each student is precious to the district, as state moneys are received on a per capita count of students on a daily basis.
But I can't help but wonder, does this in any way relate to the upcoming January bond election? I know I'm wrong to even speculate that this may be true because our board members are such outstanding, upright members of our community (puke bags available on request!) We just got through paying off the $100 million they spent on two (count'em, two) schools. Now they want us to reward them by assuming another large bonded indebtedness which they want to say will not increase our taxes, but will, because the old bond rate drops off the millage before the new is added. Additionally, they admit they do not know what amount is required, nor do they know what interest rate they will need to pay. So who can tell? I'm going to vote in any case. Care to guess which way? [I did, and I lost, the bond issue passed overwhelmingly. I guess that's the end-product of the Cabell County school system.)
Now, about those *&%$#@&% drug companies. (Yeah, I know, that looks almost like those oil companies, doesn't it?) I knew when they started talking deregulation back in the seventies that this kind of thing was on the horizon. Not deregulation of the drug companies, they've never been regulated for advertising, except for blatantly false claims (and only a few times for that.) But deregulation in general. Perhaps the finest example of failed deregulation is the telecommunications industry.
Some struggling minor long-distance companies (MCI and Sprint) brought suit against AT&T back in the seventies adn, when it reached the US Supreme Court, the court ruled that, to encourage competition, AT&T must divest itself of all local service provision, so a number of regional services providers were spun off. [The court in its infinite wisdom also forced AT&T to allow the suers to use AT&T long-distance services lines and claim the lines were theirs, although they paid heavily to AT&T for the use of those lines.] Among them were such entities as Bell Atlantic, Pacific Bell, Southwestern Bell, Bell South, NYNEX and others. Over the next twenty or so years, Bell Atlantic gobbled up a large number of these local service providers, as did Southwestern Bell.
Through mergers, buyouts, etc., the names eventually became Verizon and SBC. Both had long ago gotten into the long-distance field as well. Recently, SBC absorbed the old, original AT&T, the last major holdout, and so now practically all telephone services available in the United States, other than cellular or internet, is provided either by Verizon or SBC. In fact, most cellular service and internet service is done through these two giants, over 70%. SO, in the attempt to stimulate competition, we now have Two companies instead of the THREE I can name off the top of my head we originally had to provide all local and long-distance services, and that at the expense of much higher prices and much poorer service. Typical, typical.
But I digress---
Back in the Stone Age (acceding to my grandchildren's wishes and beliefs), drug companies waged a never-ending war on television, radio and the press for sales of over-the-counter medications and nostrums. Most commercials were just like today's versions, without the annoying loudness of today's. But they NEVER advertised prescription drugs. Prescription drugs were sold by detail men to pharmacies and were presented to and explained to physicians by these same detail men. When a drug went from controlled status to over-the-counter, there would sometimes be a large promotion during the phase-out/phase-in period. Then the otc joined the rest in fighting for advertising space and funds.
But now, the drug companies seem to revel in advertising any type prescription drug ant any hour. day or night, to all audiences. Many of you are too young to remember the seventies. Back then, there were huge advertising campaigns for feminine deodorant sprays. Now, you cannot possibly make that a commercial for round the clock viewing by all members of the family. It is as offensive as those for Kotex, Tampax, Viagra or Preparation-H commercials. Good taste dictates you do not shove them in the face (metaphorically) of everyone. But they did---and still do.
I find these drug commercials to be as offensive as I did and do the FDS, Kotex, Viagra, etc., ones. But more than that, I object to the cost which it adds to all drugs. Health care costs in Americaare escalating at about 9% to 10% annually. And this is one component of that cost which has absolutely no redeeming qualities. You can't go out and get it without a prescription which means a trip to the doctor's office, ands so, once again we are escalating costs. Where does it stop? And the sad part of it is, no one is saying anything about it. Except me--a voice crying in the wilderness, again? I guess.
Don't pay any attention to me, Ralph, just go ahead and play it purty.
Thursday, December 8, 2005
So the air marshals at Miami International shot and killed a man yesterday. And the wild-eyed apologists are screaming that they exceeded the bounds of their duties with "why not in the leg?' and "why shoot to kill, the guy was just mentally ill?" To answer their whine, perhaps a little bit of history is needed. OK, then I'll supply it.
Quite simply. if you were to poll the American people you would probably find them having mixed emotions regarding this particular event. Many, myself included, would agree with their actions. Many would not. No one would be happy with the man's death. But everyone is happy he did not have the bomb HE SAID he had.
The man bolted from his seat, ran down the aisle of the jetliner to the exit and past two marshals who attempted to stop him in the jetway. Air marshals are not psychologists who can, in a split second, diagnose mental disease. They are trained to restrain or stop anyone who appears to present a threat to passengers or airplanes, period.
When the man burst past them into the jetway, they again attempted to restrain him. He shouted that he had a bomb and reached into a carry-on bag as if to trigger it. The air marshals fired their weapons, killing the man. Or, at least, this is what was reported by the news media.
The air marshal service was established after the September 11, 2001 terrorist attack upon the United States. At that time the public was screaming for some type of protection for the airlines and passengers from such takeovers. Of course, prior to that time, airline hijacking had been a problem. Hijacking of airplanes in the sixties and seventies had led to the institution of the then current perfunctory security checks of passengers and carry-on luggage.
Such security checks consisted, in reality, of simply placing carry-on baggage on a conveyor which led under an xray device, as the passenger walked through an xray gate. Basically it was a check to see if the passengerwas carrying agun or a knife. If so, it was confiscated and the passenger was referred to local authorities (who probably released the passenger and forwarded the item by mail to the passenger's home.)
These security checks were more or less a joke until after the tragedies in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. The authorities then overreacted as usual. But at least the attention of the travelling public was galvanized. But then things fell apart rapidly. A great hue and cry was raised that the inspectors were privately contracted individuals, many of them foreign nationals, who were paid minimum wage and were not adept in their jobs.
The federal government then decided that these inspector jobs should be federal jobs. Instead of seeking new applicants, however, the federal government hired the same people back to be inspectors, only now they had federal pay scales and federal benefits, even if they were still foreign nationals who were not adept at their jobs. As cream rises to the top, so dregs fall to the bottom, and we were back to dealing with the bottom again.
Of course, through all this nonsense, no increase in efficiency or productivity was noted. So, just a day or so ago, it was announced that a large list of items would now be removed from the prohibited list. I guess their thinking was that if you can't catch it, you can't regulate it, and if you can't regulate it, to hell with it. Actually, they say this will enable them to concedntrate more of an effort on checked luggage. That is probably true. For if they examine just one checked bag that will be an improvement in concentration as they have not checked ANY up to this point (seems impossible, but published reports over the past five years have consistently said no checked baggage was ever examined.)
Oh, well, now my coffee's cold.
Just drink it Ralph!
