Yesterday was a beautiful fall day – eighty degrees, sunny and calm. And both Dagmar and I came home after work, shut the windows and sat on the couch. We’re both blah. Neither of us has energy to get much done, other than drag ourselves to work and back. I attribute it to our advancing sissification. We’re getting so far away from nature and the outdoors in general that we’re becoming wussies. The trees make Dagmar sneezy and weepy this time of year, and the grass makes me itchy and cross. When I was a child on the farm, this didn’t happen (scratch scratch). It simply doesn’t seem worth the effort to go outside and sit in our little patch of grass – we have to contend with noisy (and rude) neighbors across the fence, and our view includes rather a lot of barbed wire. There really shouldn’t be barbed wire in a residential district.

Fall always seems to be the season of death to me. Nature undergoes a slow, lingering strangulation by the frosty fingers of winter. It’s hard for me to maintain a good attitude, knowing that the next six months are going to be cold, rainy, muddy and ugly. “But the colors sure are pretty!” you may exclaim, pointing to a tree. I’m color-blind. I think I see about half the “pretty colors” of fall. Oh well…

I’m starting to get scared now.

Michael Brown, former head of the Federal Emergency Management Administration, was appointed to the job by President George Walker Bush, though he was desperately unqualified. Harriet Miers, Mr. Bush’s personal lawyer, has been nominated by Mr. Bush to sit on the Supreme Court, though she has never been a judge. Now I find out that another appointee, Stewart Simonson (Bush’s go-to man on “matters related to bioterrorism and other public health emergencies”) is woefully untrained for his job as Assistant Secretary for Public Health Emergency Preparedness.

Mr. Simonson is a lawyer in charge of our nation’s medical response program. Nothing against lawyers, honest, but shouldn’t someone a bit more familiar with public health administration be in charge of our public health administration?

It turns out that Mr. Simonson was Tommy Thompson’s staff lawyer when Mr. Thompson was Governor of Wisconsin. After his term as governor, Mr. Thompson moved on to serve as the Board Chairman of Amtrak, bringing Mr. Simonson along for the ride. Mr. Bush named Mr. Thompson head of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, and in turn Mr. Thompson brought Mr. Simonson along. source Mr. Simonson was called in front of a House Committee last July, where he told the committee that his agency had ample money to buy flu vaccines and anti-viral medication. Everyone left the meeting happy. The next day, Mr. Simonson’s agency requested $150 million from Congress to cover, you guessed it, flu vaccines and anti-viral medication.

I just read somewhere on the Internet (I lost the link, unfortunately) that Mr. Simonson’s predecessor in the job feels that Mr. Simonson is making poor decisions. It seems that the man who had the job before Mr. Simonson was actually a doctor, and was trained and had experience in public health and emergency preparedness until Mr. Thompson ousted him in favor of Mr. Simonson. It seems a pity, what with avian flu on the horizon. Not to be an alarmist, but World Health Organization officials have repeatedly told us over the past few years that avian flu is a very real threat, and that it will kill between five million people and 250 million people.

Try to conceive of 250 million casualties. Now think, does the United States have it’s best doctors and scientists on the case? Well, no… but we have a really smart lawyer running things.

So, as I see it, here’s the deal… Marion “Pat” Robertson (the same Pat Robertson who claims that “the antiChrist is probably a Jew alive in Israel today,” source prayed on his very own TV network for an opening in the Supreme Court so that Mr. G. Walker Bush (President of the United States) could appoint a conservative judge to the bench. That happened according to plan – a justice retired. Mr. Robertson promptly fell to his knees, not to praise God, but to greedily ask the Almighty for another opening on the Court. Lo and behold, a justice died. (Does that make Mr. Robertson guilty of homicide somehow?) Mr. Bush promptly upgraded his first judicial nomination and made a second nomination – Ms. Meirs.

Who is Ms. Meirs? She’s Mr. Bush’s lawyer. She’s never been a judge. Wonderful… Does anyone remember Mr. Bush appointing someone to head the Federal Emergency Management Agency who had no experience? Does anyone remember Hurricane Katrina? It seems the Mr. Bush’s policy of putting friends in high places regardless of experience or training simply doesn’t work. Even his own political party is getting tired of it.

For a man of the cloth, Mr. Robertson seems to be awfully greedy and full of himself. A quick search on Google turned up a number of interesting facts about the man. He used donations from his church to fund flights to Zaire for “humanitarian” reasons, but according to the pilot, over 95 percent of the flights were related to Mr. Robertson purchasing diamond mines for himself. In 1988 he ran for president and publicly fibbed about the date of his marriage – turns out his wife was seven months pregnant when they were married. Yet Mr. Robertson called for President Bill Clinton’s impeachment for having sex out of wedlock. Now the man who uses his parishioner’s money to line his own pockets is trying to buy a oil refinery in California. Many environmental organizations are trying to block the leaky refinery from opening due to it’s age and various emissions, but Mr. Robertson thinks it’s okay to open the refinery because it’s in a Latino neighborhood anyway. One Source

First quote of the day:

“Feminism is a socialist, anti-family, political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.”

– Pat Robertson, 1992

It’s 9:56 on a Monday morning and I’m at work, typing on my blog. It seems like it’s been a strange day already, and feels like it’s liable to get stranger.

I spent the night fitfully tossing and turning on the couch, the TV mumbling merrily to itself about Einstein in the corner, poor kitty Fruitloop trying desperately to find a comfortable spot on my belly. The whole night was spent in a half-awake, half-asleep la-la land of odd dreams and uncomfortable rumblings in me tummy due to an overexertion at suppertime (potatoes and ham – five servings of each, according to the packages). I fell asleep on the couch during Cincinnati’s 3-point loss to some other team and didn’t want to wake Dagmar by relocating to the comfy-indeed bed. So I tossed and turned and dozed and woke and read and watched TV and dozed and hiccupped all night, lost in a melange of bizarre mental twistings – I was convinced half the night I’d been in a plane crash in Canada and was walking through snow and ice. (Turns out “Survivorman” was on TV, surviving in Canada and I’d kicked the blanket off my feet.)

This morning my beloved Viennese bride took one look at me and said, “You didn’t sleep vell, did you? Und you had too much to eat, didn’t you? Look at this, you’ve surrounded yourself mit popcorn, pretzels, peanut butter, chocolate candies… No vunder you didn’t sleep well. And look here – you forgot to take your sleepy pill, too. Silly man.”

“I don’t feel good,” I moaned, holding my bloated tummy. “I feel ookie. And I have a headache.” I wandered the general direction of the bathroom. “I just don’t feel good. And I have a headache, too.”

“You vant me to tell you it’s okay for you to stay home, don’t you?” asked Mrs. Perceptive. “Vell, no. You ate too much und you slept in front of the TV und had bad dreams. You go to verk – it’ll do you good.”

Drat.

To be honest, though, I did feel MUCH better once I’d run my carcass through the shower a few times. Off to work I go, heigh ho, heigh ho! As I pulled into the parking lot, still trying to shake off a few of the odder dreams of the night, the first thing I noticed was the new graffiti on the front of the building. That always puts the bosses in a good mood!

I punched in, managing to spell my name right on my time card this time, and trudged to my appointed corner of the basement. It was immediately apparent that I was the only one in the Art Department to bother to come in to work today. Everyone else was gone. Not a soul. I checked the calendar. By that action I learned that today is Columbus Day here in Iowa (and it’s Brett Favre day in Wisconsin today, by the way), but that didn’t particularly explain why my department was absent. (You must realize that there are really only two people in the Art Department – me and Drew.) Eventually, the boss mentioned that Drew’s boy is ill today, so Drew stayed home to take care of the kidlet. So I’m here all by myself today, listening to MP3’s and typing in my blog. So far (and it’s now 11:24 a.m.) I’ve printed five things, changed one number, and designed a flyer for my boss who wants to sell his car. (It’s a 1993 Corsica. $2,395. E-mail me if you want more details…) So work’s going well.

My Vunderful Vife and I had a pretty cool weekend, all things considered. It started out with a short road trip Friday night when we hooked up with some friends from the left coast in Omaha for blues, booze and barbecues at McKenna’s. Great friends, great food, great music! Judging by the pictures I took, most of which were of various half-full bottles of booze, I must have had a good time… We always like McKenna’s – the food and atmosphere is consistently good, and I’ve never heard a bad band there, ever.

Saturday morning came too early – our dumbo cat woke me up at 7:30. I ended up napping on the couch for a few more hours before heading to the Clam’s gig that day – a benefit for S.T.A.R.S. – a Sioux City group that puts handicapped kids on horses. Setup took a few hours longer than anticipated, but the gig went well nonetheless. The crowd was small, but the charity made money and that’s the important part! (Funny side note: We played in a horse barn, which meant there were horses and horse-type animals lurking about in various sized flocks throughout the area. About halfway through the night, half the band was gathered outside the barn, chatting. At one point, someone asked where so-and-so was. A disembodied voice floated through the quiet countryside, “I’m petting the donkeys.” For some reason that makes me laugh.)

Sunday was a complete loss as far as productivity goes. Dagmar took an allergy pill and snoozed most of the day away whilst I lay on the couch watching the Packers win over the Saints 52 to 3 (go Pack go!) and eating all sorts of nasty snacks. I had ambitions, but none of them came to fruition… (It’s hard to do things and be productive when everyone else in the house is snoozing. It tends to put one into a snoozing mood as well.)

Well, looks like my time is up. The front office just brought down what looks like three or four days’ worth of work. They have a bad habit of saving the work up for some reason and dropping it all on my lap at once. Often by the time I get my hands on a job, it’s already past it’s deadline. Sigh.

Today is a gloomy sort of day. Dank, dark, humid and rainy. Not what comes to mind when you think “October.” October is supposed to start off a bit brisk, with a light breeze carrying hints of dry leaves hiding under trees and wood smoke from the neighbor’s stove. It’s supposed to end with happy little ghosts and gremlins stomping their way through piles of leaves, knowing the first “real” snowfall is just days away.

This year doesn’t seem to fit the pattern. Yesterday the high was in the 90’s. Today it wasn’t much cooler, and the humidity is through the roof. It’s raining heavily at the moment. Tomorrow, they say, we’ll be lucky if the high gets out of the 40’s. That’s too much of a swing, now, don’t you think? From the 90’s to the low 50’s? How’s a body supposed to deal with that…

You know how you never remember to fix that pesky windshield wiper when it’s nice and sunny? The only time you think of it is when it’s raining… I have a gutter like that. I can hear the water puddling and splashing where it’s not supposed to, right outside my side door. I GOTTA remember to get that fixed! I’m sure it’s something simple, but I don’t have a ladder to get up there to look, so I’m gonna have to hire someone to do it. (I’d buy a ladder, but I don’t have a garage door, so I’d have to store it inside, right next to my weed whacker and my lawn mower, and I just don’t have room. So, technically, I should buy a garage door. Then I could buy a ladder and store it in the garage. Then I could fix my own gutters. But that all takes money and time…)

My beloved bride should be home from the store any minute now. She called earlier and said she was hungry for fish. Again. (She had sushi last night. Salmon tonight.) So she went to buy fish after work. I’m looking forward to a quiet night tonight. Of course, as I’m typing this, the neighbors are parked in my driveway again, honking and yelling obscenities at each other… I trudged out there in my robe and shook my fist at them, trying to get the “shut up and get off my property – I’m trying to relax, dammit” point across, but the just ignored me. I think I shall trudge back out there with my digital camera and take pictures. For evidence, you know. Oops, they’re gone now. Oh well.

I heard on the news over the weekend that George W. Bush has nominated a new supreme court justice. Judge Roberts has already been fitted for robes, this one is Harriet Miers, Mr. Bush’s friendly attorney. I don’t know what to think of Ms. Miers, to be honest. She’s never been a judge, and she claims Mr. Bush is the most brilliant man she’s ever known. Those two things right there scare me.

Okay, I’m upset now. I could hear the rain upgrade itself from a mild rain to a downpour. At the same time I heard cars honking right outside my house. I go out on the porch, and there are the neighbors, parked in my driveway again. This time they’re just sitting in their SUV thing, waiting for the rain to let up. My wife is stopped in the street, honking at them. They don’t move. Dagmar gets out of her car, in a torrential downpour, goes over to the neighbor’s car, and asks them to move. She trudges (that’s the third “trudge” so far today) back to her car. They still didn’t move until Dagmar honked again. By this time I had my boots on and was ready to intervene, but I missed my chance by seconds. Now poor Dagmar is soaked to the bone – NOT a good thing when she’s recovering from acute bronchitis. We gotta buy a sign or something! This is getting crazy…

Well, if you’ve been reading this (see Advertising, Just as I Feared, and That’s Much Better in particular) you know I’ve been having troubles and woes with my bass tone lately. Turns out that, though I particularly enjoyed my tone and volume last Saturday night, the volume was really bothering my bandmates. After much discussion, conversation, wailing and gnashing of teeth, we’ve decided to go with in-ear monitors. That should help.

And, I’ve started new meds. I feel MUCH better now. (I know, I know, I’ve said that before…) I’m starting to feel more like myself every day. I quit with the Wellbutrin and am now taking something unpronounceable. I’m thinking that may help with the tone situation, too, now that I’m not edgy and obsessive. Much.

Our weekend:

One of the many elk we saw during our picnic at the park Friday night. Cool!

VROC people from Des Moines, Omaha, Sioux City, Northwest Iowa and bits and pieces of South Dakota. We all hooked up in Carroll Saturday – it was a fun ride indeed!

If you’ve been reading this blog the past few days, you know I’ve been having woes with my bass tone (or, to be more specific and/or honest, with the sound man).

Well, Saturday night I changed my EQ to something closely resembling a bass sound, and turned the volume to a reasonable level. The first comment I got was from Miss Amy, who was standing right in front of me on stage. “Your bass sounds really good tonight,” she said between songs the first set. I asked her if my bass was too loud. “No,” she replied. “It sounds good – don’t change anything.”

During our first break, I talked to a fellow musician in the audience who had been at the show Friday. Before I said a word to him, he said, “Geeze, your bass sounds MUCH better tonight! I can actually hear it for a change. It sounds good. You must have changed your EQ a little…” As he said that, I glanced back at the stage. There was the sound man, changing the EQ on my bass. Sure enough – he’d changed it back to the way it had been the night before. He did that on every break the band took. And every time I changed it back to the way I wanted it. I’m bringing some duct tape to the next gig – I’m going to get my settings the way I want, then I’m gonna put duct tape over the whole thing to keep prying fingers out. The only negative comment I had was from our guitar player, and half of that comment was positive, actually. There was a song in the end of the second set or beginning of the third set that he didn’t have to play his guitar on, so he was free to wander around the stage a bit. As he came closer to my side of the stage I could see his eyes get wider. “Wow,” he said. “The sound is really ‘tight’ on this side of the stage. That sounds pretty good… But can you turn down just a bit? There’s a low-frequency rumble coming from somewhere that’s making it hard for me to hear myself…”

So, I feel much better about Saturday night. Friday night left me wondering if I was cut out for the music business after all, but Saturday night reassured me quite a bit.

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Blogger is having problems today. I just lost two hours of writing, and I still can’t upload photos. I’ve cleared my cache and all that nifty stuff, to no avail. Oh well… Hopefully they’ll get it all figured out.

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Here’s a statistic the Bush administration can be proud of… The number of poor people has risen by 17% since Bush was appointed. (I got that from an Australian newspaper’s web site. Now that I wanna cite them as a source, I can’t find the site again.) The gap between rich and poor continues to grow, and that makes me sad.

That reminds me of an article I read in Reader’s Digest (pp. 38-44, October 2005 issue) about Stephen Crawford, a man who was co-president of Morgan Stanley for a little over three months. For those 100 days of work he received $32 million. That works out to $54,000 an hour. It’s obscene that Mr. Crawford accepted (and felt he rightfully earned) that money, but it’s even more obscene that Morgan Stanley gave him that amount of money! I wonder what the poor schmuck who mops the floors in the corporate lavatory 50 hours a week for minimum wage thinks about that. I wonder what their investors think about that. I’m pretty sure that if I had money invested in a firm that pulled that kind of stunt I’m think awfully hard about letting them use MY cash…

(Side note: Reader’s Digest seems to me to be naught but a shadow of the fine magazine it was in the 1960’s and 1970’s. My grandparents, and my mother as well, encouraged me to read the magazine when I was a kid – and they had a LOT of back issues for me to pore over. In the 1980’s I noticed that Reader’s Digest was becoming more and more political, so I quit reading it. The past few years I’ve been reintroduced to the magazine, and while I do end up reading it eventually, I’m constantly disappointed. The writing doesn’t have the clarity and insightfulness it used to [perhaps because they no longer rely on reprinting outstanding articles, but now use articles written in-house], and there is so much advertising in the magazine it’s hard to find the real articles. Disappointing. The “old” Reader’s Digest magazines seemed to be like Walter Cronkite, whilst the “new” Reader’s Digest seems to be more like “Fear Factor” or, at best Fox News – two facts [one of which is usually wrong] and a lot of noise dressed up and wearing a tie.)

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In other odd news, Cindy Sheehan, the lady who camped out in front of our appointed leader G. Walker Bush’s ranch while he was on vacation this July and all of August, has been arrested. Apparently she went to Washington D.C. and sat down on the sidewalk in front of the White House with “several dozen” supporters (one newspaper mentioned the number 300 instead of “several dozen”). source I guess it’s illegal for an American citizen to sit on a sidewalk now. Maybe I should start calling the police to come investigate every time I see a homeless person in my neighborhood.

I’m sure Ms. Sheehan must have broken a law, and I’m sure she knew about the law (whatever it is) when she broke it. But it seems odd to get arrested for sitting down in a public place.

According to one poll I saw recently, two-thirds of Americans now think Presidential Appointee Bush has mishandled the war in Iraq, and over half think we should end the war now before any more lives are lost. Mr. Bush is directly responsible for the loss of 26,092 Iraqi citizens source and 1,904 American soldiers, and is indirectly responsible for at least some of the thousands of American casualties of Katrina through inept administration. President Bill Clinton was nearly hounded out of office for showing his privates to a government clerk. Appointee Bush has actually done harm. Why is he still in office? It baffles me…

Here’s an example of Mr. Bush’s disregard for human dignity… (This will take a minute to explain.) A company named Kenyon International has been contracted to set up a morgue in Louisiana. Kenyon International is a subsidiary of Service Corporation International (SCI), located in Mr. Bush’s “home” state of Texas. (From what I understand, there was no bidding for this service – SCI was simply chosen to do the job.) Source.

It turns out that the head of SCI is a friend of Mr. Bush, and of Mr. Bush’s father, legally elected President George Herbert Walker Bush. In fact, SCI has donated something like $150,000 to the Bush family’s political machine in the past few years. So, it’s another case of Mr. Bush handing a lucrative government contract to one of his pals. But it gets better…

SCI subsidiaries have recently been implicated in “illegally discarding and desecrating corpses.” In fact, they’ve already paid $100 million in settlements to bereaved families. In 2001 investigators found that a SCI-owned company had been removing bodies from cemeteries in Florida and dumping the bodies in the woods to make room for more bodies. In 2000, fifteen different SCI-owned funeral homes were sued for piling bodies outside or stuffing them in sheds instead of cremating the remains.

Investigators also found that SCI companies were being creative in their use of vaults. They found the remains of 67 individuals in a vault made for just one person.

When presidential Appointee George W. Bush was governor of Texas, Texas Funeral Service Commission Director Eliza May filed a lawsuit against Mr. Bush accusing him of obstructing investigations into SCI methods. Oddly enough, Ms. May was fired and the case never came to trial.

So, our government has not only given a big government contract to a company that has close ties with the Bush family, that company is itself inept. And, to add insult to taxpayer injury, according to one mortuary professional, volunteers would have done the job AT NO CHARGE.

What is our government doing to us?