Stu's Musings

It began like this: I'm sitting at my computer in the living room of my apartment.  It's still daylight -- roughly around sunset.  Suddenly my neighbor's "boom car" pulls up to the drive, which is just steps away from my living room window... and my ears.  The bass came in so loudly that it was impossible to hear anything else; my wife was on the phone to a friend who heard it.  Irritated, I went outside to confirm that it was indeed my neighbor and ask him to turn down the volume.  Note that at the time I had recently come in from being out and about and was still wearing my sidearm, which I do habitually, and I thought nothing of it as I went outside.

IN RETROSPECT: The better choice was to call the police for two reasons: 1. because I was indeed irritated, and 2., because wearing a pistol could've been misinterpreted.

When I got outside, the car was indeed parked right up at the curb.  I didn't see a driver, but when I got closer, I noticed someone in the passenger seat.  In order for him to hear me, I had to yell: "Hey!  Turn that noise down!"  The man inside did, asking me what I'd just said.  (I wasn't surprised he didn't hear me.)  I told him that he was sitting in front of my window and the bass was just pounding in, and again asked him to keep the volume down.  He said, "This isn't my car," and turned the music back up as loud as it was before.  This only added to my irritation.

IN RETROSPECT: Again, either whip out a cellphone or go inside and call the police.  In that moment, the thought didn't occur to me. Note to self: program this into your head!

I approached his window and began to yell over the music to turn it down (no doubt using less-than-friendly language, but I don't recall the exact verbiage).  He then made a lunge toward me, starting to open the door and jabbing a hand out through the window. With my left hand, I pushed the door back toward him, blocking his exit.  When I saw his other hand flailing out the window, I thought he might be making a grab for my pistol.  I put my hand on it to prevent him from snatching it.  (At no time did I index it or even begin to remove it from my holster.)

Apparently he hadn't even noticed my pistol until that point!  He took my gesture as a threat...

IN RETROSPECT: I cannot blame him.  I might've thought the same thing in his place...

...and he became even more angry.  [As would I.]  He got out from the other side of the car.  As he was doing this, I was making my way back toward my front door.  At that moment, my neighbor appeared.  Hearing his friend's complaint, he asked me if I had meant to shoot anyone.  I said, "If I had meant to shoot anyone, they'd be shot.  He came at me -- I didn't know what he was going to do."  My neighbor took it in stride, nodded and went to his friend and spoke with him to calm him down.

NOTE: My neighbor seems to be a good guy.  One day, some time ago, I had been playing my own music during the day.  He knocked on my door and asked if I could turn it down, explaining that he was a night worker and was trying to sleep on up to about 3:00 PM every day.  I agreed to use my 'phones and it was never an issue since.  Sometimes I'd hear his music as he came and went, but he usually was not parked immediately in front of my window glass, and the noise was brief.

IN RETROSPECT: Even though open carry is perfectly legal, forgetting to cover my pistol may have made a bad situation worse.  Note to self: don't let that happen again.

In the final analysis, while I was technically in the right at all times and working within the law, I was tactically inept; I did nothing to deescalate the situation.  While it might've seemed a bit un-neighborly to call the cops, my neighbor would've gotten the message that he was disturbing his apartment mates just as effectively, if not moreso, than the way things went.  Secondly, things could've gone very badly if his passenger had himself been armed.  A little noise (or even a giant noise, in this case) would not be worth one or both of us being injured or worse.  Lastly, the same could be said of some other bystanders; they could've been friends of these men, they could've been armed or they could have been unintended targets if shots had been fired.

IN RETROSPECT: I think that the true hero is my upstairs neighbor.  Looks like I owe him one.

Clarence Page of the Chicago Tribune writes in http://www.timesdaily.com/stories/Revive-sensible-gun-laws-in-US,189746 that we need to "revive sensible gun laws" in the U.S.  We -- my fellow news junkies and I -- have heard this repeated often since the Trayvon Martin incident in Florida, and like all the other articles and stories, this one is short on specifics.  Curious, I decided to write Mr. Page a letter.  I share it with you below, and will share any reply (IF any) that he may choose to write.  My letter:

P.S. I HATE IDIOT AUTO-FORMATTING CRAP!!!

The story: an unarmed teen, walking home from a local party store with an iced tea and candy in-hand, is gunned-down by an overzealous Neighborhood Watch member because he was "suspicious."  Rather than immediately arresting the shooter, who chased the teen against the advice of the 911 operator who he was on the phone with, the police let the shooter go saying that "our hands are tied by the 'Stand Your Ground' law."

SOME DETAIL THE MEDIA ISN'T GIVING YOU

"Stand Your Ground" is an extension of the "Castle Doctrine" law, which basically states that a homeowner or otherwise legal occupant of a residence has the presumption of innocence when using deadly force against an illegal intruder.  All of the other laws STILL APPLY, including a proportional use of force and so on.  This law was in response to several instances of legally armed people being arrested and tried for murder because they didn't observe the state's "duty to retreat" requirements.  This concept required homeowners and rental residents to try to escape through a back door or other means before any kind of deadly force could be used.  It really didn't matter if they were a parent with a baby in the next room, or the guardian of an invalid senior.  Even though such trials ended up in the homeowner's favor, they still had to endure the legal expenses, not to mention the harrowing battle and publicity, before they could go on with their lives.  "Castle Doctrine" (as in "a man's home is his castle") changed all that.

Yet every new law leaves questions in its wake.  A legally armed citizen might wonder, "what about when I'm in my car?  Can I defend myself against an armed carjacker?  Or what if an armed robber comes into the store where I'm shopping?  Or my bank?  Can I defend myself or others, or must I try to escape and leave other patrons to die?"  The legislature responded with an enhancement to the Castle bill with what is now known as "Stand Your Ground."

GROSS MISAPPLICATION

In a nutshell, the Stand Your Ground law gives you the legal right to not have to retreat if you're in a place where you have a legal right to be and are attacked.  Further, you can respond to deadly force with deadly force of your own.  Knowing this, it becomes apparent that "Stand Your Ground" does NOT sanction armed vigilantes chasing down unarmed "suspicious people" and dispatching them like diseased dogs.  It further does not allow people to take a shot simply because they "feel threatened."  The statute itself reads "force with force," meaning that there must be a reasonable, credible and immediate threat present.  An unarmed person running away meets none of those criterion.  (See the combined "Castle" and "Stand Your Ground" statute as it appears in Florida law here; http://www.leg.state.fl.us/statutes/index.cfm?App_mode=Display_Statute&Search_String=&URL=0700-0799/0776/Sections/0776.013.html)

PUBLIC OFFICIALS ARE OFTEN ILL-INFORMED

There are so many laws and statutes on the books, both federal and local, that even trained lawyers require interns and/or researchers to gather together all the pertinent information on any given case.  It would be nearly impossible for every police officer to know and understand every statute and all the nuances involved.  For instance, here in Michigan, when it comes to citizens with permits legally carrying guns, there are a few "zones" where the legislature decided guns should not be carried, such as churches, schools, sports arenas among others.  There is also no law against those with or without permits openly carrying a holstered firearm (not concealed in any way), yet the same restrictions apply.  Yet a quirk of law allows those with a permit to openly carry their firearms into said zones.  Every so often, the Michigan State Police issue an update to its officers.  The October, 2011 update (#86) informed officers of these facts after some controversy over detaining some people who were open carrying.

Michigan, too, has similar "Castle Doctrine" and "Stand Your Ground" laws, as do many other states, yet this law is being called into question in Florida not for what IT does, but because an ill-informed police department has misapplied it.  Even though the City Council has given a vote of "no confidence" in the department's Chief of Police and groups such as the NAACP have called for his resignation, I'm left to wonder if Florida police have the benefit of such legal updates?  Who is actually responsible for officers not knowing the correct application of "Stand Your Ground?"  This shooting is certainly a tragedy, and no sane person, NRA member or not, is applauding this cold-blooded murder.  Yet here comes CNN, MSNBC, the New York Times and who knows WHO all else blathering about this "dangerous law" that was once labeled by groups opposed to gun rights as the "shoot first" law (as in "shoot first and ask questions later").  As an outside observer looking in, it quickly becomes apparent that there's more going on here than initially meets the eye: this has been and shall remain POLITICAL.  It's all about gun politics, and one side apparently sees this tragedy as a way to begin chipping away at gains recently made by gun rights advocates.

ARE THEY INEPT HACKS OR PARTISAN ACTIVISTS?

This issue of gun rights has sadly become partisan, regardless of the fact that nearly as many Democrats are gun owners and permit holders as Republicans are.  We seldom see any of the other items in the Bill of Rights being claimed as partisan planks, yet for some odd reason, your right to defend your life and those of your loved ones has been claimed by the right and vilified by the left.  Bill Clinton ran on "gun control" and enacted a ban on so-called "assault weapons" with disastrous consequences for Democrats at the end of his term.  With this kind of history, and with a lean to the left that both sides agree that the media in general seems to have, it is fair to ask the question: IS this a partisan hatchet-job or is it simply inept reporting?  There are only two choices and neither one of them is something the media should take pride in.  A little bit of research -- something anyone with access to Google could do -- would've cleared-up a lot of the misinformation reported by the media, such as this editorial in the New York Times.  If they willfully distorted the truth, then it changes from "misinformation" to "disinformation," and once again we are being lied to.

IS HEALTHY SKEPTICISM DEAD?

When I was growing up I was repeatedly told by adults, "Don't believe everything you read!"  That extended later on to, "You can't believe everything you see on television."  Skepticism wasn't seen as a negative, but the word was usually preceded by "healthy."  We apply this to claims made by those selling products or when entering into contracts, yet today, all too many take whatever FOX News, CNN, MSNBC or the New York Times spews out as gospel!  This has the unfortunate consequence of distracting us from the REAL issue; we'll get all worked-up and focus on the Stand Your Ground law as Sarah Brady and other politically-driven gun ban groups want and ignore the fact that Florida police are ignorant of how their own laws work and that there's a cold-blooded armed murderer still walking around among Floridians as I write these words.  It is callous and irresponsible.  Those who would use such a tragedy for their own political gain are reprehensible.  And members of the media?  YOU are the enablers and every bit as repugnant; you have lost the right to call yourselves "journalists."

While working as a DJ last night at a private party, someone came up and requested a song by Whitney Houston.  It wasn't one of the usual ballads I sometimes get asked for, but a dance hit from the '80s.  Naturally I asked, "So what made you think of that song?"  The woman told me that the news was reporting that Whitney Houston had just passed away.  This would be my "where I was when I got the news" moment.  When I started the song and announced this sad fact to the crowd, I'm guessing that my announcement would be the same for most of the audience.

I couldn't help but think back to the first time I'd ever heard of Whitney.  It was around the middle of the '80s when I was working at C.J. Barrymore's, and we'd gotten our monthly video update from one of the music services the club subscribed to.  Because I was in charge of the mid-day show where the focus was on Adult Contemporary music (a.k.a. "easy listening") for our afternoon buffet, I would see Whitney over and over in black & white singing "You Give Good Love" for many months.  Now, even on VHS, the video was in color -- this isn't exactly ancient history -- but the monitors in the booth were scrounged from some TV studio that probably had upgraded and tossed these out, so we DJs got to see glorious old-time images while the guests enjoyed Whitney in all of her full-color beauty.  And to be honest, her beauty, both vocally and physically, were a force that reached out and grabbed her audience no matter what you were watching her on.  I immediately knew that we'd be hearing more from her.

History proved me right; a string of hits crossing over from AC ballads to dance floor packers filled-out the rest of the '80s and early '90s, her career lasting far longer than my stint at that particular nightclub, and culminating in a blockbuster hit from a blockbuster movie where Whitney absolutely killed an obscure Dolly Parton Tune, "I Will Always Love You."  I would play that song from that point on at wedding receptions.  It's the one I still get asked for to this day.

I'll never forget my reaction when I heard that she had hooked up with, and ultimately married Bobby Brown.  I felt like P. Diddy when he heard about Sara Palin shouting, "Alaska???"  I said, "Bobby Brown???  Really?"  It seemed like such an unlikely pairing, Whitney being a close relative of Dionne Warwick and a stand-out singer in her church choir and... well... Bobby Brown.  Brown, known for his antics with New Edition and his drug problems in the '90s that frequently got more press than his music.  It therefore came as no surprise when Whitney appeared with Diane Sawyer talking about her own drug problems after some high-profile appearances while stoned and emaciated.  To me, Whitney seemed as though she was coming clean and getting the help she needed, and once Brown was out of the picture and she had been awarded custody of their daughter, it appeared as though she was moving on to a more normal life as a rich suburban mom, with maybe a comeback coming someday soon.  She left my thoughts, as well as much of the public's, until last night, February 11th, 2012.

Pondering this sad turn of events, with the news blaring about her death being the result of drugs, I couldn't help but think of Michael Jackson.  He, too, in the words of his own song, was "gone too soon," the result of using illegally prescribed drugs.  Then there was the outrageously beautiful Anna Nicole Smith.  While not an entertainer, her story was exactly the same: too much fame, pressure, money and drugs all combining to her destruction.  These weren't fictional characters.  These were real people.  Extremely talented, gifted people with all too human failings.  One of those failings is that they didn't learn the lessons of those who had come before them.  Smith didn't learn from the sad experience of Judy Garland.  Michael didn't learn from Smith.  And lovely Whitney didn't take to heart the lesson of Michael Jackson.  I'm saddened that this will continue.  Nothing I can do or say will stop it; it is human nature.  All I can do is put this out there for my friends, family and anyone else who will listen: do NOT let the loss of Whitney Houston go by without the full realization of what is at stake!  If nothing else, take away this advice: avoid drugs, tobacco and excessive alcohol!  This isn't religious edict.  (I'm an atheist.)  This is PRAGMATISM.  This is the epitome of learning the lessons of history so we aren't doomed to repeat them.

I'm reminded of an interview I saw once with Ted Nugent.  Love him or hate him, his message was spot on.  He spoke of how he had shared the stage over the years with some of the greatest Rock & Roll artists of all time; Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison and on and on.  He said he sometimes got teased because Ted wouldn't 'party' with them by joining in their binges.  He concludes by saying, "They're all dead, and I'm still Ted!"  He didn't say it out of meanness.  In fact, when he recounted the list of greats he knew, it was the closest thing to regret I've ever heard him say.  His main goal was to show by example how drugs, alcohol and tobacco ruin lives and how great life can be without them.  I only wish that Whitney had heard that message and taken it to heart.  I can't recall a single time in my life when I heard someone say, "I'm SO GLAD I dropped that acid," or "Snorting that coke was the best move I've ever made!"  When it comes to illegal drugs, as well as alcohol abuse, there's nothing but regret.  It is a black hole that sucks away money, relationships and lives.  When the richest and most gifted and powerful among us end up in rehab or in a morgue, why would anyone even THINK of fucking with that stuff?  Will we ever learn?

Under normal circumstances, I avoid writing tributes or obituaries.  But this one hurts.  My colleagues in the music and DJ industry recently mourned the passing of Etta James, but with a sense of celebrating a life well lived and a priceless contribution to music that will live on, no doubt beyond the lives of any of us reading these words.  But like Hendrix, Joplin and Morrison, we mourn Whitney for "what might've been."  We feel the pain of her now motherless daughter and the total senselessness of her death.  She will be our musical Marilyn Monroe.  Can we please, PLEASE, learn at last?

Romney says it.  Gingrich says it.  Speaker of the House John Boehner says it.  In fact, it's the #1 meme of the Republican campaign: "Government does NOT create jobs!"  And now there are people spouting this all over the web, taking for fact what they've been told.  But has anyone checked?

In a recent online discussion, I responded to "Ed," who said that government creates zero jobs with this:

The government IS a job, Ed! Is being a soldier a job? Is being a mailman a job? Is being a port authority inspector a job? Or a DEA agent? I have a friend who works for the FDA. She has a damned GOOD job! See, we taxpayers have charged our governments, both federal and local, to do a few things for us. In exchange, we pay for those services in the form of taxes. So we support a massive military complex that builds and deploys weapons; this creates tens of thousands, if not millions, of jobs! We have air traffic controllers that keep planes from crashing in the sky. We get letters and packages delivered at a reasonable cost. We have police patrolling our streets. We have water piped-into our homes and waste piped out. We have courts, which not only provides massive government jobs (judges, etc.), but supports a HUGE legal industry!

How FOOLISH to say that government creates no jobs! Ever work for a tax preparer? And get this: most of those jobs aren't supported by your tax dollars! See, the government also generates income. Yes, all those stamps you buy and fees you pay for registered letters and so on support the postal system. (The only reason they've run into trouble is some onerous rules they've been compelled to follow -- we could do a whole 'nother thread on that) Police and DEA get to keep any drug money they seize, as well as property that they auction off. Then there's trade tariffs -- HUGE. Did you know that they were enough to not even HAVE a personal income tax until the early 1900's? You might have a parent or grandparent that remembers when the whole income tax idea was implemented!

I repeat: the government is the biggest employer in the nation, and perhaps the world. Think about that the next time you're standing in line waiting for a non-employee to take your driver's license photo.

It was only up to this point where anything close to critical thinking occurred to others on the thread, but not in the way I'd have hoped.  Instead, someone named Adam quipped, "Sources?"  Fighting the urge to gouge out my eyes in the face of such glaring stupidity, I instead offered the following reply:

Sources beyond common sense? Really? My first impulse was to point out that Ed cited no sources, so why should I? But it's too easy to do so! How 'bout this: according to http://www.politicususa.com/en/big-government-obama-reagan, the U.S. federal government employed 2,840,000 non-military employees in 2011. Now, if you recall some of the deployment numbers in Iraq and Afghanistan, that could add another 2.5M military employees! Can you name ANY private employer that even comes close?

According to http://247wallst.com/2011/04/24/americas-ten-largest-employers/3/, the #1 employer in the U.S. is Wal-Mart, with 2.1M employees. Unless you eliminate our military, they're not even a CLOSE second!

And speaking of Wal-Mart, you HAVE read about the "Wal-Mart effect" haven't you? What that is (and I'll give you the pleasure of looking it up yourself) is the phenomenon of Wal-Mart moving into a city or town and putting smaller mom-n-pop operations out of business. So while the town may have a net gain in the number of jobs, what happens is that many higher-paying jobs are lost in the bargain. Wal-Mart's business practices have been described as a "race to the bottom," and with good reason!

Numbers don't lie. Politicians do. Romney, Gingrich and the others are running FOR government jobs! For any of them to say that government creates no jobs is hypocrisy at best and sheer stupidity at worst.

In researching.the softball question, it occurred to me that not only is government a job in and of itself, and like private industry, also a creator of jobs, but government is also directly responsible for entire private industries and businesses!  It runs from the most basic, such as bars, nightclubs and even brothels that surround military bases, right on up to businesses like H&R Block, which wouldn't exist if we didn't have to deal with government taxes.  Then there's NASA and the aerospace industry which, again, wouldn't look like it does today sans government.

Now, my point here is NOT to say that government is the be-all-and-end-all, or in any way the answer to all of our problems!  I'm of the opinion that government often creates as many problems as it solves.  As the recent standoff on internet piracy (SOPA/PIPA) shows, government overreach and interference can have HUGE consequences!  I also have to defer to my in-law, who I'll call "G."  G just retired from the Tank Automotive Command (TACOM).  As he puts it, "You can't even begin to imagine how corrupt the government is!"  But these are all topics for another day.  The FACT is that the government not only creates jobs, but creates more of them than any other entity.  On top of that, government influences private industry in both favorable and unfavorable ways.  In order to solve our economic problems, BOTH SIDES are going to have to get real on this and work together for real change, and it's going to have to START by getting corporate money out of Washington and repealing or nullifying Citizens United.  Onward!

Today the news that Herman Cain, current darling of the GOP, passed a polygraph that shows the women accusing him of sexual harassment liars has blown-up my e-mail box and even found its way into my Facebook feed!  So did he really pass such a test?  Well... not exactly.  He was never hooked-up to an actual polygraph or questioned by an examiner.  Instead, a so-called "expert" used some pricey voice stress analysis stuff to conclude he's not guilty.  As anyone who watches "Mythbuster's" knows, though, so-called "lie detectors" don't actually peer into one's soul and expose lies.  Far from it.

So-called "lie detection" works by using the "psych-out" factor: the fact that, under scrutiny, a person will give themselves away.  Poker players refer to this as a "tell."  Similarly, when you go in for an examination, you are told that your body's autonomic responses will change if/when you lie.  You're hooked-up to a polygraph machine that records them and, isolated and with as much psychological pressure as the examiner can conjure up, you are asked a series of yes/no questions.  99% of people do indeed buckle under such pressure.

Yet as Grant Imahara (sp?) proved, as long as you are confident that your secrets are safe and that nobody can truly read your mind, no indication of deception will show up.  He beat the machine, and the wired machine is far better at detecting lies than a remote analysis, simply because a liar doesn't know he's being analyzed, and so there's no real stress to detect.

So in the final analysis (pun intended), I think this particular analyst is either a Republican shill OR has far too much faith in his fancy equipment and the gullibility of voters who are ignorant as to how it really works.  Almost to underscore the news of said non-guilt, a 5th woman has come forward.  Is it me, or is Cain the Tiger Woods of politricks!

All of the coverage of the 10th Anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks really brought back a lot of memories.  Spielberg's "Rising" series on the Science Channel also presented many stories of 9/11 survivors, most of which I'd never heard before.  Just about every single one of them is far more meaningful and pertinant than mine.  Still, unbidden from the depths of memory, I clearly remembered the morning of 9/11.  First, let me set the stage; our main TV is in our bedroom, at the foot of the bed.  We had our first "big screen" TV by September, 2001, and just like everyone from our parents to government energy use nannies have told us NOT to do, we generally sleep with the TV on.  I, for one, can't handle total silence -- it actually keeps me awake -- and I'm pretty sure that my wife can sleep whenever the heck she wants.  As a DJ, I also tend to stay up later than most, so it's unusual for me to be up and about before noon on any given day.  The same was true on 9/11/01....

The scene: a post-apocalyptic "Mad Max" style roadway.  Running through a desert-like wasteland, it is strewn with wrecked cars, craters and blast marks and even human bones.  Along this road is the remnants of a big town.  Most of the buildings are in bad shape, but one, near the road, is still mostly intact.  It was once an old big box store, like K-Mart, Sears or Wal-Mart.  With the sun high overhead, the big building looks deserted with the exception of a very large, unusually-shaped Humvee parked in a loading area, with an overhang and glass windows where the office workers could view the trucks as they made their deliveries.  Today there is light from dozens of computer screens visible.

Sitting at his desk, with his tricked-out Hummer in full view through the window on his left is "The General."  He's obviously a seasoned U.S. military man, in full-camouflage battle dress, but with several gold stars and insignia that distinguishes him from any old "grunt."  He also has some distinguished-looking grey at his temples; this is a career officer.  Through his screens and the constant radio chatter, he has a firm grasp of the military situation beyond the store's walls.  Situation reports come in constantly and, on occasion, he replies.  Over an open mic, a large "BOOM!" is heard, and a voice squalks over the box, "I think a plane just hit the building!"  The general keys his mic; "Unit Bravo, can you confirm?"  Before the answer comes, a large "crack!" is heard from the dark depths of the building and all of the lights and screens go dark.  In the silence, The Genral curses to himself and says, "Damn, they took out the generator.  They must've found me."  He smirks with confidence, heading to the big doors that open to the truckport.  Right next to the doors are stacks of military-grade equipment cases and bags.

The General opens the driver's door of the Humvee and fires-up the engine.  He keys some controls and several screens flicker to life -- a smaller version of his workstation from inside the store -- and once again the running chatter can be heard.  He listens to reports as he gets busy loading all of the supplies into the huge cargo area in the back of the Humvee.  The radio chatter describes smoke and flames from the struck building.  Slamming the Humvee doors, The General moves around to the driver's side and gets behind the wheel.  He pauses for a moment, the confident grin still on his face, listening to the radio chatter.  "Oh my God," a voice says, "Another plane has just struck the second tower!"  The General, shaking his head, says, "That figures.  The bastards."  He drops the vehicle into gear and pulls out onto the vacant desert roadway.

This is obviously no ordinary Humvee.  Soon he is streaking along, his speedometer (which says "Ground Speed Indicator" reads 151 mph.  As he listens to the chatter, an odd thing appears in his rear-view mirror: a lone headlamp, like that of a motorcycle.  What makes it odd, aside from the street being deserted, is that it seems to be GAINING on him!  The General never breaks a sweat, and with his confident lopsided grin still firmly in-place, flips a switch on his center console.  Suddenly the speed indicator starts rising rapidly: 160, 170, 180, 185, 190, and finally 200 mph!  Exhillerated by the rush of speed, yet eyes glued to foreward telephoto monitors to avoid road debris, he breathes a sigh of relief.  But that relief is short-lived.  Glancing again into the rear-view mirror, the motorcycle (?) headlamp is still in view.  And it is still gaining!  For the first time, The General's face no longer looks amused.  "So, you're a fast one, eh?  Well, let's see if you can keep up with this!"  Again he flips open some safety covers, throws some switches and activates some exotic on-board equipment.  The reason for the odd oval shape of the Hummer becomes apparent, as an opening appears in the front on each side, as well as openings to the rear.  The General hits one more switch marked "VTOL" and presses a joystick forward.  Jets roar to life in the rear and underneath the Hummer, lifting it skyward.  The General can't stifle a chuckle as his view turns from road to sky.  Then he glances into the rear-view mirror...

The light is still there.  Still gaining.  The radio chatter continues: "Oh my God, the South Tower has just collapsed!  I can't believe what my eyes are seeing!"  And then my lucid mind started taking over: Why is Diane Sawyer talking on a military channel?  Hey, wait... could I be dreaming all of this?

I opened my eyes just in time to see a videotaped replay of the collapse of the first tower.  I called to my wife, awake and in another room, to ask her if it was real.  "Yes.  It's been all over the news all morning!"  I don't know if it was because of my dream, being in an early-morning lucid (and analytical) state or just plain intuition, but at that moment, I knew that the plane crashes had been no accident.  Because of my dream of The General, I also knew that the military was going to have its hands full for a good long time.  That was the start of my day on 9/11/01.

I can’t recall when the image first crossed my mind.  Maybe it was when a Salvation Army bigwig tried to lecture me on how to say the word, “god.”  My mother had approached them for some help when she was out of work and, of course, got a generous helping of Jebus for her trouble.  “You pronounce it, ‘Gawd,’ a bit like ‘laude’!”  She wasn’t amused when I said it was pronounced like “odd.”  We still got some food.  Or maybe it was the time my cousin, who I love dearly, was ruminating on terrorism and Islam.  “Well, we’re all praying to the same god,” he declared.  Then there was the appalling display of our various Congress Creeps assembled on the steps of the Capitol reciting the Pledge of Allegiance and, when they got to the passage, hollered, “UNDER GOD,” as if the rest of the pledge didn’t matter, and nor did any of their constituents who weren’t Christian.

 

In all of those cases, I’m reminded of those thankfully rare, awkward moments where you’re talking to a friend and can’t focus on anything they are saying because they’ve got a big, honkin’ booger hanging out of their nose… or on their shirt.  They might be giving you the cure for cancer, but all you hear is, “booger, booger, booger, booger, booger…”  It’s nearly impossible to take them seriously.

 

And so it goes with seemingly increasing fervor when our Congressmen, candidates for governor, president and representatives open their yappers.  We all know that politicians like to say all of the things that make us nod our heads, as Bill Mahr likes to say.  They’re all for creating jobs; they’re all out to balance the budget and lower the deficit; they’re for “helping people” to have better lives… and who could be against those things?  But just below the molecule-thin surface – the region where a reporter’s question or constituent’s query might lead to specifics – and you may suddenly encounter it: the god booger.  “Why are you against a woman’s right to choose whether or not to have an abortion?”  Here comes god.  (Nothing about abortion in the actual BIBLE, mind you, but apparently god says it’s evil somewhere.  Maybe in a footnote.)  “Do you believe in Evolution?”  Nope.  God did it.  “What about terrorism?”  Easy: my god’s bigger than your god.  God, god, god: nonsensical boogers that distract us from the real meat ‘n’ potatoes of real issues.  Instead of substantive, thoughtful solutions to our problems and issues, we’re offered Iron Age superstition.  Rather than make tough decisions or craft innovative approaches, we’re asked to pray, fast and hope god will save our necks, a la Rick Perry.

 

And it’s all done with a straight face.  They’re serious.  Serious as a booger on their tie.

 

Yet to see how they actually LIVE their lives, it can’t help but make one wonder if they actually do believe what they’re spouting.  Jim Bakker and Jimmy Swaggert with their prostitutes, Ted Haggard with a gay male prostitute, Robert Tilton and Benny Hinn bilking their followers out of tens of thousands of dollars, and legions of Catholic priests found out to be child molesters and aided and abetted by the Church hierarchy itself… how is it that we keep buying what these criminals and hypocrites are selling?  Then there’s the politicians; unabashed Catholic JFK and his infamous affair with Marilyn Monroe (among others); Newt Gingrich’s affair and announcement of his divorce as his wife lay in a hospital bed, all the while persecuting philanderer Bill Clinton for what amounted to a blow job; Eliot Spitzer’s long-time use of a prostitution service while on a holier-than-thou crusade against anyone else doing likewise; Mark Sanford’s “walk down the old Appalachian Trail” turning out to be a raging affair with a foreign national; John Edward’s “love child,” conceived as his wife battled cancer; Larry Craig caught pants-down in a “wide stance” soliciting gay sex while all the while protesting his non-gayness, and on and on, ad infinitum.  And ALL of them members of the “god squad,” proudly wearing their god boogers as prominently as they wear their American flag lapel pins.  Does this sound like they actually fear a wrathful, vengeful and jealous god?  Or have any real dread of the terrors of hell?

 

Evidence for the existence of a god or gods is non-existent, but proof of criminal wrongdoing is beyond reproach when it comes to this bunch, suggesting that their professions of faith are window dressing; their actions speak far louder than their words.  This isn’t simple “human failing,” but massive hypocrisy driven by a “do as I say, not as I do” mindset, just as parents scared their kids to sleep by telling them that Santa Claus was going to pass them by at Christmas.  They knew Santa was bullshit.  They know god is bullshit.  Yet they spew the god booger so that you will nod your head, give them your vote and bypass your critical thinking faculties.  So let this be a post-hypnotic key to free your mind: when you see or hear the “god booger” – when that word drops out of an official’s mouth – let it set-off the “bullshit” alarm in the back of your mind.  Raise the shields, because you’re about to be hit by a mind control bomb designed to substitute their pretty fable for your reality.  And relieve you of your vote and perhaps a boatload of cash in the process.  Keep the Kleenex of skepticism and reason ready to deal with any and all god boogers.

I know, I know... MSNBC is as slanted to the left as FOX Noise is slanted to the right...and the women you love will always break your heart.  'Tis true!  Tuesday night, my second-favorite lesbian -- I have to say "second favorite" because my sister-in-law is awesome and I love her just a teensy bit more -- drove into the Ditch Of Bad Reasoning when she did a segment on the Terrorist Watch List, sometimes also referred to as the "No Fly" list, because being on it will keep you from boarding a commercial plane.

What seems to be Rachel's bone of contention is that those EVIL people on the watch list, which once included Senator Ted Kennedy and may STILL include music legend Cat Stevens, are ALLOWED TO BUY GUNS!!!  Oh, no!  Everybody panic -- it's LEGAL for TERRORISTS TO BUY GUNS!!!

...well...no, not really.

But if you're a Rachel fan, that is exactly the impression she intended to leave you with.  She went on to interview the head Congressional numbskull, Carolyn McCarthy, who introduced legislation to "close the terrorist loophole."  Now not only were they in the ditch, but began to burrow.  In yet another letter to Ms. Maddow, none of which she has ever bothered to answer, I explain why this is BOGUS by asking her some questions:


I then went on and invited her to call me to explain why all cops everywhere want to be exempt from the "ten round limit" bill also being pushed my McCarthy and friends.  Oh, some cops might voice support for it, but NONE want to PARTICIPATE!  Yes, I included my phone number and begged her pretty PLEASE to call me!

Since she's unlikely to do so, I guess I'll put the explanation here, so you don't have to go down-list where I think I've mentioned this before.  See, cops don't want to be limited to ten rounds because they know that bad guys most often travel in pairs or groups.  This means that they'd be outgunned!  Of course, you and I might meet those same bad guys on any given day, and we won't have a partner nearby or back-up within a short distance, but the authors of this bill don't think about these aspects.  They're not cops.

Nor do they think about the reality of what guns are, why cops (and citizens) use them and what is truly at stake.  See, a gun is a last resort; a tool you employ if the only other option is to die.  It means that someone is trying to MURDER you.  And when this happens, cops know that the body reacts in certain ways, responding to the Darwinian trigger that prepares us for "fight or flight."  A dump of adrenaline makes a cop's vision tunnel; he might fixate on the bad guy's weapon, but see little else.  It makes hand-eye coordination difficult, which is why you read about how many MISSES cops have during a fire fight!  So when it comes down to "do or die," more ammunition could literally mean the difference between life and death.  More ammunition is GOOD.

And it is also good for the law-abiding citizen, who again may meet those very same bad guys.

Yet all the ivory tower politicos can think of is Jared Loughner and the Gabby Giffords shooting, where the madman used an oversized ammunition magazine designed for a machine pistol.  Yes, it does make the weapon able to fire more rounds before reloading, but the answer isn't to NEUTER the WEAPON!  The fact of the matter is that weapons are SUPPOSED to be dangerous!  They're SUPPOSED to be deadly!  A gun that cannot cause damage is a useless deterrent and poor survival tool!  And seriously... are ten people killed and/or wounded acceptable?  No.  Less rounds is a BAD STRATEGY.  A better one is diagnosing mental illness and having resources available.  But our government would rather buy expensive airport scanners and shut down mental health clinics.  But I digress...

The bill is also bad because it goes beyond simply limiting these freakishly long magazines designed for machine pistols and mandates a limit lower than most standard police duty pistols!  A standard magazine for a Glock 19, the one both used in the shooting as well as a favorite of police, holds 15 rounds.  The .40 caliber Glock 23, another cop and FBI favorite, holds 13.  An FN Five-seveN, the weapon used in the Fort Hood shooting (by a soldier, no less) and a favorite of SWAT and Navy SEALS holds 20 rounds.  As you might guess, we don't want to limit our soldiers or police to ten rounds!  They're the "good guys!"

And this is my point: so am I.  So are the 99.8% of people with concealed carry permits.  NRA members, sporting clay shooters, hunters and even the open carry people are NOT the ones causing trouble with firearms!  If it's not drug dealers and gangs or other criminals, it's the mentally ill.  Attacking the law abiding while permitting undiagnosed and/or untreated mental illness to continue is not only senseless, but heartless.

Call me, Rachel.  We really need to talk.  Pretty please?

"Anything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong... and at the worst possible moment." - one of Murphy's Laws

Hello loyal reader of my oft neglected blog!  I know what you're thinking: "Wait a minute... where's Part One?"  That, of course, would be in the current (May) issue of Mobile Beat Magazine, in which, to quickly recap, I found out I was in violation of all sorts of new government rules and regs even though I'd been driving Vanzilla for some 14 years now.  And yes, that meant shelling-out a few healthy fistfuls of cash just to keep on being able to drive.  Oh, and my battery chose that moment to die, too, so I had to borrow another $200.00 to fix that, too.  (Yes, commercial trucks take pricey batteries.  In fact, everything is more expensive.)  So now that we're all caught up...

Tuesday the 31st was a beautiful, sunny day -- the first one that hasn't seen rain in quite a while.  I'd made plans to go shooting with a couple of buddies, so I grabbed my trusty 9mm pistol, my new .22 that I bought for some cheap shooting, and headed off to meet up at Double Action in Madison Heights.  Needless to say, we had a fun time.  Afterward, I was driving my buddy, a fellow DJ, back to his house a short distance away.  He invited me to come out to where he'd be working that night; Northern Lights in Detroit.  "I'll drop you a couple bucks for gas and you can do a set!"  Not having any other plans, I agreed.  Turned out to be a fun time!  After a quick bite of food, I joined my friend in the DJ booth (more like a stage) and he showed me how his rig worked.  Cobbled together a fun set of '80s New Wave from the flash drive I keep in my pocket to play in my truck!  It was really fun... and it would turn out to be the HIGH point of the day.

His GF was there, so my friend had a ride home.  I bid them goodnight and headed back to Vanzilla.  I fired her up and made it about a block before it became obvious I had a flat tire.  I got out and looked: yup -- the front passenger side tire was not only flat, but off the rim.  No "Fix-A-Flat" would do this job!  I gave the wife a quick call and then proceeded to get out all my stuff: spare tire, massive lug nut ratchet-wrench, piston jack and even a mat.  I then encountered my first obstacle to easy resolution: the jack wouldn't fit under the front jack point.  The tire was simply too flat.  Bummer.

I now knew I'd be calling SOME one and that there would be costs involved.  But... I wanted to leave.  After all, here I am in downtown Detroit with a marked DJ van -- a bit conspicuous.  Even though I don't keep my gear in it, I do store a lot of back-up stuff that I'd really like to keep.  This is also not to mention that I still had a bag of ammo and case filled with GUNS locked in the back!  My head was on a swivel!

So after my wife arrived and managed to get a tow truck to agree to come out, I proceed to chock the back wheels, go to the flat wheel and attempt to loosen up the lug nuts.  They weren't budging.  In fact, I managed to break off the heat-treated stainless steel socket adapter that had worked so many times before with much success.  So now there was no way to jack it up AND no way to unscrew the lug nuts.  Ah, but help was on the way.  When he finally arrived, in the form of Motor City Towing, the driver got busy trying to change the tire.  He managed to get seven of the eight lugs off, but on the last one -- the one I'd broken my ratchet on -- he couldn't get it to budge.  After a fairly heroic effort, he basically gave up, telling me I'd have to have it towed to a tire shop.  Uh huh... at 1:45 AM in downtown Detroit?  He got the hint and gave me the card of a 24-hour emergency service.  I thanked him and got on the phone.  The supposedly 24-hour service wasn't answering.  Janette, now pissed to the hilt, got to work dialing.  In the meantime, my DJ buddy and his girl were on their way home and spotted me.  They stopped and, after letting them in on the situation, offered me a can of WD-40.  Perfect!  We soaked the barnacle of a lug nut in the stuff.

After a while, I try it again... no luck.  This time I'm using my wife's lug wrench, which isn't exactly full-scale.  Still, I remembered a time when this had happened and a mechanic had shown up with a torch.  He got the lug hot and it came right off!  I mentioned this and, when I went to answer my cell, my DJ Buddy (Dave, a.k.a. "Scary Guy") disappeared.  When I got back out, he materialized with a torch!  "Where in hell did you get that," I asked?  "It's Detroit.  I've got friends," he said.  That's Scary Guy for ya.  While the torch worked beautifully, the lug was still not moving much.  Just enough to let in a bit more WD-40.  Then Janette gave us the big news...

The number the other driver had given us was old.  She'd gotten the new one and a truck was on the way!  In a short while, Tyrone -- a gigantic man with a big smile and a "Miami Vice" cap -- appeared.  I told him about the situation and said, "I'd be SO grateful if you could get this off and mount my spare."  His reply was something I'd waited to hear all night: "Consider it done!"

And done it was!  In less than 20 minutes, the spare was on and he was writing me up -- and all for a really good price.  Although it was now nearly 3:00 AM, I was safe n' sound, Vanzilla was mobile and nothing was lost or stolen.  But there was one thing broke...

Just as my battery had decided to die while I was dealing with the compliance expenses, my wife had noticed my tail pipe dragging behind me on the way home.  Yes, indeedy -- my relatively new exhaust pipe with the "lifetime warranty" was rotten and nearly falling off.  So I spent Wednesday dealing with my tires.  Thursday (today) I'll be seeing just how good my supposedly "lifetime warranty" is!

Why do I mention all of this?  A few reasons; first, to vent.  Can you say "stress?"  Second, to convey the lengths I'll go in order to deliver great entertainment to my clients.  Last, but not least, to wring out at least some tiny droplet of entertainment value from what was a truly, massively screwed-up experience.

To Scary Guy and not-so-Scary Girl: thanks for keeping me company.  You're awesome friends!

To Tyrone of United Towing: YOU are my HERO!!!

To my wife, Janette: together, there's nothing we can't get through!