The Portland Freelancer

My Obama Ad

2008-04-27T11:10:00.000-07:00

Here's my own private lawn sign about the Obama campaign. I'm not asking for your vote - there's 1100 of these things. I just want to participate. The Democratic primaries have been a sickening display of low-rent, sleazy nothingness - manufactured from little issues to avoid the big stuff. I've heard Hillary say it's a preview of how the GOP would treat Obama if he's the nominee. Here's a different take: Not only has she made me sick with her desperate, ambition-crazed approach to the primaries, but what happens if she somehow wins? Do we have to witness months more of her cheap shots at John McCain? I don't want to see that. I think it's time for her to wrap it up. If Bill Clinton hadn't been such a hound dog, the Bush administration might not have happened at all. (Now there's a daydream.) If anything, the Clintons should apologize and get out, rather than work so hard to try and continue the Bush policies by tearing down Obama, and helping the chances of another GOP President.
Update: (Link No Longer Works)

Paging Evolution: Come In Please

2008-03-30T10:24:00.000-07:00

You've probably read the stories of how we're turning the Pacific Ocean into the Ocean of Plastics. It's so bad already that I can only see one way out: A new bacteria must emerge that can eat the stuff. Not something we design - we would only screw that up - but something that arrives out of nowhere and starts eating plastic. Folks, we need some evolution here. There are little organisms that eat crude oil so how about it, Mother Nature? Can you save our ass on this, please?
It reminds me of the time I tried to talk a Bedouin out of tossing some plastic garbage into the sand in Arabia. He gestured out at the endless dunes as if to say, "How can we ever impact something as vast as this desert?" Well, the Pacific Ocean is much bigger and we trashed that. This is one reason I believe in global warming, by the way. It seems impossible that we could have impacted an entire planet, but it's clear from the garbage in the Pacific Ocean that we have.
If you live in Oregon, you've also heard about the annual cleanup by SOLV of our beaches. First of all, a giant "Right On!" to them for that. The stories always mention big items the crews find - an angle that was enhanced when the sea threw back some cannon this year. But are you aware of what's on the beaches in little pieces? This is stuff ground up by the waves or tiny to begin with. I don't see how you begin to clean it up. Here are the heartbreaking pictures below from Beverly Beach just south of Cape Foulweather.

The Comment of the Century

2008-03-20T13:21:00.000-07:00

Over on the Saving James site, (you can link from the column to the right), we got quite an amazing comment about the "Born To Slack" cable access show. It brought a tear to my eye, especially the part about our humble cable show helping to save someone's life:

Dear James... Hello there.

So happy and blown away that you have a donor !!!
I have been so sad about your plight. Now there is a cure coming about---> All of us here at our house/and farm believe in your FULL recovery.

This family has been praying for a FULL recovery and sure enough many, many more are doing the same... but for some fans maybe they are just as stunned as we all are/were when we heard this much more than overwhelming bad news concerning your health.

If anyone can beat the heck out of this ordeal we know that James will OVER-POWER it with that great optimistic view James possesses.
With every show of Born to Slack... You and dear brother Bill get right to the facts like no other anchor team we may ever see. The Bill and James team tells the absolute truth
with sprinkles of some of the funniest material we have ever had the good fortune to witness.
Which my family identifies with 100% on all of your topics.

With all of this scary and horrific hell that you've had to face from the day of conformation by your Doctor of your disease-That alone was such a negative blast to your emotions... beyond mere words to express at 1st. I too know what a downer and fearful position you fall into after hearing such bad news.
Especially when it came right out of the blue and off the wall
when least expecting it.

To make it even worse when you are freaked-out and very sick... then the task starts when you must find all of the knowledge you need to learn in a rapid time frame about this tricky health problem. At 1st, your quest becomes hard to find the facts and cutting edge info too. This was your worst negative time period-which was perfectly natural to be afraid of and land you and yours in a state of shock.

Not to forget that you kind sir are
SO blessed with a strong,loving, concerned and caring family,other loved ones,including your friends, plus loyal fans must be comforting. We definately feel and without any doubt... know this in our hearts that you and yours are in the SUPER positive rebound state now. Loaded with HOPE,knowledge and filled to the brim with your optimistic out-look on your life.A wonderful and a LONG life await you dear James.

Lastly, I want to Thank You and Bill along with your supportive families & access staff for helping me through some of the most darkest and terrifying days & spooky nights (so wrapped up in fear) I became ineffective in trying to save my own life.

After being told I had 2 diseases
that would & are now slowly killing me... Not one thing could pull me
out of my already giving up 'spent & exhausted' mind set fueled by severe fear and heartbreaking pain.
So sick... that I could not begin to even start to try and save myself through my extensive searches for the knowledge that I desperately needed to save my own life.

A miracle happened one REALLY bad night to me while I was becoming more & more self-absorbed,confused and with thoughts of just giving up.
All of a sudden... like Manna from Heaven: The Born To Slack Show came on !!! that night.
As they say "laughter is the best medicine" Well... you both dosed me very well with that excellent and SUPER funny trademark laughter
medicine and fact sharing you both are unique at. This probably sounds corny...
But I do think you guys indeed saved my life or at the very least
made me think in another direction
to get my mind off of my troubles.
We miss you kind sir James.
Too bad this isn't a big Punk'd
issue for the show to us fans and this really wasn't happening to you.We know that you will not only
get your transplant that will 'take' and not be rejected... but
that a VERY healthy James will live a VERY long life/and treat this later as just a speed bump on the at times,rocky road of living life itself. Plus... remember that these anti-rejection drugs the Doctors
now have at hand have come a VERY long,long way.So... not to worry.
Bless this donor to the highest !

We are and will be forever GRATEFUL to you both and extended Thanks to your families and all who help in any way down at Cable Access.
What a team !!!

Most Respectfully and we will do whatever we can at this time and on into the future to help you & yours.
Respectfully and Thank You to all involved for all the shows you all
have put out.Now you know how to save a life. If I don't stop here the next time you see Bill (now with a big head) he'll be demanding to be called Doctor Bill standing
at the foot of your bed with his white coat on and your chart notes in hand.
You take the best of care now and we send our best to your Family too.Bless you kind sir.
Love and Light To You All
From Rabbit Moonshadow and Family

March 19, 2008 6:02 PM

Dear Rabbit Moonshadow,
Thanks for your outstanding letter.
I'll never wonder if it's all been worth it again.
---Bill McDonald

March 20, 2008 12:53 PM

Mike Huckabee: Miracle On Hold

2008-03-05T08:42:00.000-08:00

One of the worst phrases in recorded history is "religious police." That's where a group of mere mortals enforces their interpretation of God's Law on the rest of us. The immediate problem is that nobody alive really knows if God exists - that's why they call it faith. But let's say there is a God and that he is a male. Why? Most religions have him as a male. He impregnated Mary in the Christian faith and that sounds like a male to me. He also gave us the 10 Commandments on stone tablets - although I base that solely on watching a movie about it. I'm not sure. Hey, if he could hand down tablets from space why couldn't he hand down the Bible? Why did it take a committee of men to write that? Oh, never mind.

The scary part for me is when mortals rise to positions in society where they enforce God's Law. Why? Because there is a lot of disagreement on what that would be. Let people believe what they want. Let them practice their faith, but don't give them enforcement power. If we start giving them police powers, then we have....well, we have Saudi Arabia.

America is based on one of the most beautiful phrases ever: The Consent of the Governed. The main problem with President Bush is that he doesn't believe in it. Maybe Jesus told him to ignore that part. He wants to be the Decider, and we should be grateful that he's there deciding what's best for us.

Well, I'm not too thrilled about it. I don't think he should decide the White House lunch menu - much less what we should believe. He backed up his choices by assuring us that God talks to him. Apparently, God wanted us to go into Iraq, and God wanted him to spy on us. Well, I don't believe that either. In fact, my God thinks George is an idiot. President Bush is playing the role of the religious police and we've got to get back to the Consent of the Governed.

That's why I'm thrilled about Mike Huckabee this morning. He had that religious-police vibe to him, too. He even declared that his candidacy was a miracle. He said the only laws we really needed were the 10 Commandments. Mike wanted to tell us what God wanted, and he stayed in because he believed that God was working a miracle through him. Whatever. Apparently, God thought the miracle of Mike Huckabee was over.

Now, maybe he will get the VP nod, and wind up President and begin enforcing God's law on us all. Then he can point to all this and say, "See! I was a miracle!" But the stories this morning say that his people are trying to land him a cable network talk show. Heaven forbid.

Until Mike or George Bush or any of the other religious police sprout wings or walk across the Potomac, I think we should avoid the Saudi Arabia model, and stick with what got us here: Consent of the Governed.

I believe miraculous things do happen. But I think they rise to a higher level than propping up some candidate during a failed political campaign. Get over yourself.

Haters Policy for the Saving James Site

2008-03-03T09:58:00.001-08:00

We received a somewhat negative comment over on the Saving James site.
I think I'll just move any of those over here unless it gets tedious. (The Saving James site is linked to the right.) So here goes. Can you feel the love?

"It truly is too bad you found a donor. Hopefully, your body will reject the bone marrow. I figure it's bad karma coming back to you for being a hate mongering, far-left fascist. I hope you die so your son doesn't grow up to be nutjob pussy just like you! Not only are you a hater, you are studpid. I"ve watched you two buttfucks say numerous things that aren't fact, the funniest being you calling the US army's primary weapon an "ak47", LOL, IDIOT!
Know one cares what you dim pillars think! You should also start your show with telling people that you do your little propaganda show at tax payer expense. Not for long I've organized over 4000 people to e-mail their congress people. That's 3999 more people than watch your sorry excuse of a show.
Unless, you buy your own tv network, then shut the fuck up. You to fucks aren't Americans and really need to get the fuck out of our country. I'd even say that right to your ugly mugs. PUSSIES"

Thanks for participating in the national discourse.

James Returns: Born to Slack Host Is Back

2008-03-02T10:20:00.000-08:00

Since the "Born to Slack" cable access show has gotten a flurry of publicity lately, I'm going to promote it here: Tonight marks the return of James Shibley at 10 pm on channel 22. He's 25 pounds lighter from the chemo - it was awkward for me to think of a way to say the disease has made him look better. There's another new show with him ready for next week. It was a real treat for me to have the old familiar co-host back. As his wife describes on the website savingjames.blogspot.com (you can link from the column on the right), they've found a match for James' bone marrow transplant. That involves a long hospitalization so these times with James are a welcome break. If you haven't seen our show be forewarned: It includes bad language and an occasional mention of the truth about our government. So enjoy or cringe or both.

Comedy Writing and the Obama Picture

2008-02-26T08:32:00.000-08:00

As a comedy writer I hesitate to think in grandiose terms about the role we're supposed to play. Oh, it's not humility - it's just that it makes it harder to be funny. But there really was something missing during the writers strike, that I hadn't completely noticed before.

Little lumps of disinformation were being thrown out there by the presidential candidates and they seemed to last longer than they should have because there was no comedians to knock them down. I remember one being the highly-nuanced Huckabee theology degree. We could have worked with that. Heck, I thought the whole "I'm a miracle" thing was comedy gold.

Contrast that with yesterday, the Hillary campaign, and this Obama photograph in traditional Somali wear. Hillary finds it "laughable" to suggest her desperate campaign had anything to do with it, but nobody bought that. So we had an attempt to use the picture to depict Obama as something that he is not. This was where the comedy writers stepped up on national TV last night.

Leno said that the Obama campaign had responded by releasing a picture of Hillary in her traditional garb and then showed a picture of the Wicked Witch of the West. Kimmel said the picture was incomplete and zoomed out to show Barack at a Halloween costume party carrying a Jack-O'-Lantern and surrounded by other people in costume. Conan said that the Obama camp has countered by releasing a picture of Hillary wearing a traditional Somali pantsuit.

I suppose you could call it progress that the day after the Oscars we were talking about what a guy had been wearing 2 years ago, instead of a gown worn by a woman, but still. It was a bad moment in Hillary's campaign and the comedy writers jumped on it.

Now, granted - some of these moves cause a subtle shift in perceptions that can't be erased. That's the whole strategy of lying and then moving on. But the comedy writers really do a service to respond quickly before something can linger and become part of the background noise.

When Hillary's people saw their candidate being depicted as a green-faced witch on a broom, they must have wondered if their Barack costume idea had worked. She probably would have been wiser to release the picture during the writers strike.

(Check out the Saving James update linked towards the top of the column to the right >)

Saving James

2008-02-21T11:04:00.000-08:00

I just saw that Jack Bogdanski has linked over here. I admit it: I fell off the blog wagon, and I'm struggling to get back into blog rehab.
The reason is that I'm trying to get an effort together to save this friend of mine from a hideous medical situation, and I figured we should play every card on this one.
More details at a new blog I'm also managing with posts by his wife called:
savingjames.blogspot.com (See Link to the right)

The Reagan Years: Just Say No

2008-02-10T10:26:00.000-08:00

They were at it again on talk radio this morning: Laura Ingraham had on Bob Dole and he commented that Ronald Reagan had freed 500 million people. As with most delusions there's a fun side and a very dangerous side. All you had to do was watch the loving embrace the Conservatives gave Dick Cheney at their big meeting this past week, to realize these people have no clue, and in fact, do not want a clue. For them, it's all about creating a fake version of reality and then repeating it over and over 'til it takes on a mantra-like zen of its own. They even tried to re-brand Richard Nixon as a great statesman so there is nothing the right wing machine will not try to pretend.

One way you can tell it's phony is when Rush and the gang say they will now campaign for Hillary Clinton. You remember the Clinton years, don't you? Could it be the right wing radio set was exaggerating how much they hated the Clintons to reenforce their dream view that all things Republican are good? If they were being sincere, then how in holy hell could they possibly talk about supporting Hillary? Republicans may not have a clue, but one still sneaks out for the rest of us, and this is a clue. The whole thing is self-delusional, lemming-following, posturing. There is no intellectual rationale for the Republican Party. It's all talk. It's all a fantasy without even good sex.

One fun question is how long they will wait before revisiting the joke that is George Bush to begin the long canonization process: "You know, we were right after all. He really was our Winston Churchill." I'm looking forward to it. I want to see the movie called, "The Wit and Wisdom of George W. Bush." As he himself would say, "Bring it on."

So it is with no particular surprise that I watched Ronald Reagan become a deity to these people: "If Ronnie hadn't been there that mean Soviet Union would still exist. Ronnie defeated it." For me, Reagan represents a compensation for strident Republicans not having genuine personal feelings. He was all warm and cuddly in cinematic classics like, "Bedtime for Bonzo", and Republicans - who clearly exhibit problems handling such squeamish topics as love and mercy - could latch on to him and adore him from a safe impersonal distance. He was the hug they didn't get as a kid. He allowed them to go right on being mean to the poor for not showing more personal responsibility, and yet still feel all warm about themselves because they loved Uncle Ronnie.

I think the fun part is what they really are saying about Communism when they claim it took Uncle Ronnie to bring the Soviet Union down. But that leads indirectly to the dangerous part for America.

Back in my banquet days, I once waited on a breakfast meeting with Senator Packwood - who despite his problems with booze and women - was one hell of an informed Senator. That's part of the tragedy of his downfall. I've waited on dozens of Senators and Packwood, compared to most, was brilliant. At this breakfast his people handed out a single sheet about the economies of the world. It was not widely known information at the time and I kept one. I might still have it somewhere.

Back then, we were in the Cold War and the two superpowers of the world were America and the Soviet Union. But wait, look at these numbers. Look at the GNPs! Tiny, little Japan was in the process of catching, or had already surpassed this mighty Russian superpower. In fact, the Soviet Union had begun to fail. It was going nowhere but down.

Now the key fact is that this was in 1980, before Uncle Ronnie took office. The fun part is that Conservatives - by claiming it took him to defeat them - are actually being soft on Communism. Listen up, folks: Communism is a bad idea. It gets bad results. The reason the Soviet Union failed was because it rotted from within.

You should have gone - as I did once - behind the Iron Curtain in Germany. Same country, same People, two systems. One side was driving Mercedes, the other side had little joke cartoon cars that looked like you could tear them apart with your bare hands.

Yes, the Cold War was a decades-long drag race between our economy and the Soviets, and yes, Ronald Reagan - by spending like a lunatic - helped in this regard. But I repeat: In 1980, the Soviet Union was already beginning to fall apart and we could have saved trillions of dollars if the Conservatives had just had more confidence in the idea that Communism was stupid. They shouldn't have been so soft on Communism.

Superpowers fail when they can no longer afford to exert their spheres of influence. They simply can't afford it anymore, and they pull their perimeters way in. And then it's payback time.

Okay, this is no longer the fun part of the Reagan-Pretend Game. Now comes the dangerous part: Our empire, our America shows many signs of ending superpower status the old-fashioned way by collapsing economically. That's how superpowers end. By having these delusional Conservatives locked into their false hero worship of Uncle Ronnie, we have blinded ourselves to the true reasons the Soviet Union failed, and we are in the process of going down the same path they did. Oh, and Uncle Ronnie's not walking through that door to save us, either.

So when a Conservative tries to say that Communism is a terrific, vibrant system, and that it took Ronald Reagan to come along and defeat it, just say no.

Why Conservatives Deserve to Be Miserable

2008-02-07T13:06:00.000-08:00

For most of my adult life, I've been lectured by Conservatives about how great they were at foreign policy, and how fiscally prudent they are. It was all about small government and national security. I'm sure you've heard it all before over and over and over again.
Of course, Ronald Reagan didn't follow the spending part, but Conservatives were quick to point out that he had a Democratic Congress. And of course, he made some horribly stupid foreign policy decisions like what happened in Beirut, but he had already passed into a religion. He could do no wrong.
If only things would line up again and Conservative Republicans could get another chance. If only. Then we'd finally see what great government looked like in this country. You remember all this, right?

Well, they got their chance. When George Bush took over, the Republicans controlled the House, the Senate, the White House, and the Supreme Court. This was their shining opportunity to back up decades of trash-talking. And what did they do? They proceeded to blow the whole thing right out their collective ass. Of course, recently the Congress swung Democratic again, but that's not even a factor. Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi have been in a head-long rush to out-Bush President Bush, and it's a sickening display. Not even Republicans can blame these last years on the Democrats. Oh, every now and then they still blame something on Bill Clinton, but they've been running the show for too long. This is on THEM. This is their economic disaster, this is their foreign policy disaster. So what do we hear from them now?
Now we have the Conservatives whining non-stop because they don't like their Republican Party nominee. If only they had a real Conservative running. Then we'd finally see what good government looked like.
They're even starting to swiftboat John McCain. I can hardly believe it, but stories are appearing downplaying what happened to him in Vietnam. Have you ever seen the footage of John McCain all busted up right after he was shot down? If these bastards try and rewrite his years as a prisoner in Vietnam they will reveal for all time, the moral bankruptcy of the Republican Party.
Better just to moan and complain, and they're doing plenty of that. It's actually quite amusing. Of course, it'd be a lot funnier if they hadn't put America on the brink, but I'm enjoying it as much as I can.
But you Conservatives should take a break on the same tired trash-talking again. You had your chance. It's petty even by your standards. And if you're wallowing that deep in your own bullshit fine, but the rest of us haven't forgotten. You had all the cards, all the planets were in alignment - you had every advantage a party in power could possibly ask for, and you blew it. You blew it badly.
Frankly, you deserve to be miserable.

Torture Is No Longer Not Torture, But That's Okay Because Now It's Legal

2008-02-07T11:13:00.000-08:00

What more do you need, folks? Let me run the official positions of our government as they've descended to where we are this morning: America does not torture. America wants to outlaw torture but that would be bad because - even though we do not torture - we would like to be able to if necessary. Not torturing people then becomes the law of the land, except President Bush does a signing statement saying he will ignore the law, but he insists we still don't torture. Yesterday his CIA director admits that we do torture. Yes, we torture but we don't torture that much. Besides, it depends who is doing it. If Christians are doing it, it's what Jesus wants. If Muslims are doing it, it is because they are evil.
And our latest position - and I do mean position: We do torture and it is now legal because President Bush says so - and he talks to Jesus, remember? And who should know more about torture than Jesus? However America still does not do illegal torture because that would be wrong.
Everyone got that? Repeat it over and over again, 'til there's nothing left of your brain, and then proceed. Do not waste your time dwelling on this. Take comfort in knowing one simple truth: Britney is now wearing her panties again, and all is right with the world.

If Michael Vick Is In Prison, Why Isn't President Bush?

2008-02-06T08:30:00.000-08:00

Comparisons between species are difficult, but I'm going to assume you agree that a human life is much more important than a dog's. After all, we kill dogs everyday in the pound, right? Then there's the question of free will. Michael Vick's dogs had no choice. That compares somewhat to our young people after they enter the military. It's all about following orders, isn't it? So let's see what Michael Vick did, compared to George Bush:

Michael set up a criminal enterprise, an illegal fighting operation. He mistreated dogs, sometimes to death, and he lied about what he was doing. George Bush set up a criminal enterprise called a preemptive strike. Even Neo-Cons like Richard Perle now admit the invasion of Iraq was a violation of international law. In doing this George and his cohorts lied repeatedly to the American People, and they continue to lie about aspects of it. President Bush also mistreated human beings under his control. He lied about torturing them, but his own CIA director admits that wasn't true, although he cites only 3 instances when waterboarding was used. He is no doubt lying about that number. "Taxi to the Dark Side" chronicles our use of torture in Iraq. The title refers to a taxi driver there whose official cause of death was listed as homicide while imprisoned by coalition forces.

Incidentally, I'm not blaming our soldiers for what happened in Iraq - so don't even go there. I believe Iraq was a crime against our men and women in uniform, just as it was a crime against Iraq itself. The Dark Side reference in the title is the place Dick Cheney said we would have to go, and believe me, he took us there.

Michael Vick did his illegal gambling for financial gain. You could argue that President Bush has gambled with the future of America and the world. Worse than what Michael Vick did, President Bush has gambled with our national soul. And just ask Halliburton or EXXON if there's been financial gain involved. President Bush would claim he acted in the interests of national security, and he has a slight point. I guess you could argue that Iraq was more of a threat to our national security than Michael Vick's pit bulls. But not that much more. The national security thing is just more spin.

The end result in Michael Vick's crime was the death of dozens of dogs. In President Bush's case, the latest scientific survey estimates one million dead Iraqis, plus thousands of American soldiers killed or wounded. In this there is absolutely no comparison. President Bush is a million times more of a criminal than Michael Vick is on his worst day.

As with most scoundrels, President Bush hides behind religion and patriotism so he no doubt claims Jesus wanted him to do all this. Well, look at the Bible's opinion of dogs - not very flattering.
Matthew 7:6 "Do not give what is holy to dogs, and do not throw your pearls before swine, or they will trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces." Or as to who will get into God's kingdom from Revelation 22:15, "For without are dogs and sorcerers and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie."
In short, Michael Vick can make a solid Biblical argument for what he did - many times more solid than President Bush's. President Bush doesn't even make it past, "Thou shalt not kill."

Am I arguing that Michael Vick should be pardoned and let out of prison? No, what he did was sick enough to merit some time. But if Michael Vick ends up serving 18 months, President Bush should serve 18 centuries. And those aren't dog years, either.

FOX TV Network Calls for Bush Overthrow

2008-02-04T13:07:00.000-08:00

The Super Bowl pre-game show was chugging along through Hour 17 when it happened: FOX went with a dramatic recitation of the Declaration of Independence. Why? Because the Super Bowl is one of the best events America has given the world, and it was a good time for the pompous phonies at the network to play the patriotism card. Why phony? Because the FOX network has served as official cheerleaders for George Bush and Dick Cheney - and nobody has done more to damage the ideas that set America into motion. Did FOX seriously want to remind us of the Declaration of Independence? Did they really want the following words to come out of the Big Brother TV screens?

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness."

Imagine the shock at the White House. President Bush could have choked on another pretzel. "The consent of the governed? What are they talking about? We've spent 8 years setting up authoritarian rule in this country and now FOX is trying to blow it."

That's right. The system of government we now have bears little resemblance to what the Founding Fathers envisioned for America. The consent of the governed is supposed to be expressed by our representatives in Congress, but President Bush has issued 100s of signing statements that ignore new laws - our laws.

Bush is - in effect - a monarch, deciding what he'll do based solely on his whims. In short, when it comes to our rights, he has become "destructive of these ends." So the FOX Network - by pointing this out - was actually advocating that we "alter and abolish" the Bush/Cheney administration and "institute new Government." Why else would they bring this up? Now I admit, it was a little surprising hearing this given the FOX position on things but the network has shown poor mental aptitude before. That's why they think President Bush is so bright.

But even the dumb-asses at FOX knew they had a problem. See, they wanted to include the John Hancock anecdote: The story where he says his signature is big so that even King George could read it. This has grown so that people say, "Let me put my John Hancock on it," when they're signing something. Plus we've all heard the King George line many times.

So yesterday when FOX had the words changed from "King George" to "Fat George", I knew why. The reference was just too close to the King George we have now. This proves FOX knows there's a problem, and that by citing the Declaration of Independence they had basically called for the overthrow of our current monarchy. The quote change was their feeble attempt to cover their tracks a little. After all, our current King George is a lot of things, but nobody can say that he's fat.

Despite all this, it was still nice to hear those words yesterday. Sort of nostalgic, really. But we don't need to recite documents like the Constitution and this one. We need to resuscitate them.

The Portland Freelancer Goes Back Underground

2007-04-21T21:18:00.000-07:00

I think I made some decisions during the White House Correspondents Dinner on C-Span. I have become extremely disappointed in many people recently, including myself. I have to get back to work. This blog world is fun but I believe that it's beginning to do me harm. The Portland Freelancer is going on hiatus. I don't want to have to defend what I'm seeing on the blogs right now. I could comment, but I think I'll pass instead.

The break-in of my house this week was a reminder of the fleeting nature of opportunity. There is a limited amount of time to get it together, so I've got to return to the path.

In many ways I was very content and successful underground, lobbing jokes into the machine. It's not a bad gig, writing anonymously. I actually tried to do some good. I mean the damn things go on all around the world, so there was a chance of having some impact. Besides, it feels nice to think you are making people laugh on a global scale, or trying to anyway. Besides, if one of my jokes bombs, nobody gets hurt.

That last paragraph seems a little overblown but the TV stuff is on in over 70 countries, and the radio is on in a bunch more. I've had jokes on CNN and that is something like 220 countries. Then things get repeated on big-time websites like Reuters. So as pompous as I admit that last paragraph was, I can back it up. Nobody else in this city sends their ideas farther out there - that I know of anyway. And don't forget the 11 people watching my cable access show.

So I should have been content. When I got the column in the Tribune it was my first foray out of my productive little bunker. This blog was another.

Right now, I don't know about doing this. Are my fellow bloggers the people I think they are, or just a brilliant disguise? For example, the way some of my favorite sites handled the school shooting was just deranged. They were way too eager about it. I mean trying to make everything bad into a conspiracy is as ridiculous as trying to make everything bad into the work of the devil. I am disappointed with some aspects of blogging right now, and I'm going to withdraw.

The cable show could be next. Since they stole my video camera this week, that has become quite a hassle. For example, this Sunday's show is the rerun of a gig my former trio played in Hillsboro last year. It already seems like ancient history. Actually, the cable show will go on, because I've committed, but that's about it.

Speaking of music, I once wrote a song called, "Out From the Underground": The first lines were: "When I get out from the underground, I'm going to take a look around. This invisibility is doing weird things to me." Well, I've had my look around, and now I want to go back. I've got a project I've got to do, and I want to put everything into it.

I've been avoiding a technical manual I have to read, and it's driving me nuts. Too bad the thieves didn't take that. I've got some life homework and I've been putting it off, and it's sort of understandable. Learning has become harder as I get older. I actually can still write pretty fast at times, but I only have a limited amount of energy in a day and I can't waste it. I've got to work on my new project. Blogging was fun, but I've got something I've got to do. Of course, the Portland Freelancer reserves the right to return at any time. Quitting things like this can take several attempts, but for now, I am so gone.

Discipline? Drive? Let Me Get Back to You

2007-04-21T09:08:00.000-07:00

This is one of those mornings where I have a lot of things to say, so I'll just touch on some of them:

1. Make sure you check L.E. Baskow's nature photograph in the Friday Trib. The young man is a monster photographer. By the way, he took my picture for my column back in the day, but we can't judge him on one bad photograph. (I just looked for the picture online, and couldn't find it. Come on, folks. You've got GOLD here. Am I going to have to call another meeting of the Trib editors? I just found it. Search for "Closer to Home" to see a small version that won't enlarge.)

2. Dusty Baker - who is going to be a great baseball announcer - called it "the World Series in April." The first game between the Yankees and the Red Sox was amazing with the Red Sox scoring 5 runs in the bottom of the 8th to beat the hated Yankees at Fenway Park to win by one. Could it be that Mariano Rivera is losing it at 37? One of the most annoying spectacles over the last decade or so was watching Joe Torre bring in Mariano to close, with that look like he was doing something brilliant. Well, Rivera was fast and accurate but his pitches did not dance and they were not nasty. Result: He blew a three run lead and for the second time in a row he blew a save. Plus a Japanese rookie - not that one, another one - came in and got through the top of the 9th. A-Rod who has been a little too happy with himself after his ridiculous start - including 2 homers in this game - was left cursing after lining out weakly. Great stuff.

3. Finally, my joke last Friday died a horrible death with the band and the host discussing how things had been going so well till this one happened. I apologized to the host's assistant on the phone and tried to blame the whole thing on Friday the 13th, which was kind of funny, but probably not what they were looking for. Last night though, the host was floundering and began discussing the situation again with the band leader. He said basically not to worry, that this next joke would turn the entire monologue around. He went with another one of mine and the audience loved it, the band played, children were named after the joke, and a parade was later held in the joke's honor. I needed that. Not really, but it was nice.

4. Something about the joke has led to a realization that I will get to later in another post. There are laughs that ridicule, there are laughs that say "That was clever", but the most solid laughs are when the audience realizes something is the truth. The joke is funny but it's also right. That's what we had here. I don't want to oversell this but I believe I now know why we are in Iraq, and the driving dynamic behind the entire Bush administration. In short, the Portland Freelancer has now figured out the entire history of America over the last 6 years, and it comes down to one simple theory. Stay tuned.

5. The discipline thing. I have a project right now that means everything to me. I have been working hard on it, but not as hard as I should be. I have a fear of learning new stuff, especially out of manuals the size of books. I also have that inverse caring thing where if it really matters, I avoid it in favor of fun, senseless stuff like blogging. Uh oh. I might have revealed too much. I meant to say, "I am avoiding this important project to continue my vitally important role as the Portland Freelancer." There, that's more like it.

Why I Could Never Go Out With Jessica Alba

2007-04-20T23:27:00.000-07:00

See, I like women with a quiet confidence. By wearing a star-shaped earring, Jessica is clearly masking some issues with her self-esteem. In fact, this picture is an obvious cry for help. Please, try and work on your self-image, Jessica. You'll only be attractive to others when you start liking yourself.

Keeping Things Balanced

2007-04-20T09:10:00.000-07:00

I love the way a good marriage can add balance to your life. This was sent to me by email from I don't know where.

Iraq: Worse Than We Know

2007-04-20T07:52:00.000-07:00

When you hear the name "John Murtha" your brain immediately and obediently brings up the associations planted there by a desperate right wing spin machine. It didn't take them long to denigrate his 37 years of military service, and reduce him to a terrorist-appeasing defeatist, did it?

Of course, the real impact of John Murtha's stand against our policy in Iraq, was to help turn Election 2006 to the Democrats and restore some accountability to what had been a rubber-stamping GOP majority in Congress. You could argue that the fate of our system of government - the checks and balances we at least seem to be returning to - could not have withstood another few years of King George. That would make John Murtha a bona fide American hero, except that he already was one. That's why when you think of him, you get a negative image. It was put there by the spin masters in charge.

That's also why the anguish in his voice about Iraq seems so compelling. He doesn't see his stand in a heroic way. In fact, he says he waited way too long, and he was just catching up to what the American People had already figured out. Isn't that refreshing? A politician actually playing down his accomplishments?

Yes, you could argue that he used his new fame to try and land a leadership position, but he is not overtly trying to paint himself as a hero here. He may be that rarest of things in Washington: Someone who actually cares about the troops more than about his political future.

That's in mark contrast to the Republican leaders. The Bush administration could be the most disingenuous group of low-lifes ever to slither upon this earth. I keep going back to President Bush's statement that if he doesn't get his way on spending, it will hurt the troops and force them to stay longer. He said that right before he ordered the troops to stay longer anyway.

Everything is politics and spin with these people. There is still a chance that the entire Iraq War was driven by how it would make President Bush look. At least on the Karl Rove side of the West Wing. We know why the Neo-Cons wanted in. These people like Rove always start with the spin and work backwards to the policy. It's very possible that to him Iraq wasn't about Iraq, and that winning in Iraq is more about being able to talk like you want to win, than actually winning. Rove probably figured a wartime president talking decisively would be the best possible image to win in 2004 and everything flowed backwards from that goal. I keep remembering an excerpt from one of Woodward's books where Rove tells George to be decisive because that plays better. Everything is fake with these clowns.

The surge is not really about the surge. It's about the appearance of a new plan, after the appearance of studying why the old plan wasn't working. If the President really felt that we had to win in iraq, he would have gone with the draft. This is all the proof you need that it's all marketing spin and politics. If President Bush really wanted to win, he would have poured troops into the country.

I am not saying that would have succeeded, but to respond to the failure in Iraq with the surge is not convincing. Most people knew the surge wouldn't work, and it hasn't, but the sad thing is that the surge's real mission was just to give these Bush cretins something to talk about. It's all about appearances and spin - moving forward just means framing the issue for another few months till its clear once again that the whole entire thing was a disaster. President Bush is now buying time with American blood.

Last night, I heard an interview with John Murtha and the anguish was obvious. He kept saying, "You have to think about the individual soldiers and the families." The burden on this small number of soldiers and national guard has simply not been fair. It's been extremely unjust and they will live with the consequences for the rest of their lives. If they live. This has also been the deadliest 4 months for the troops.

We are grinding these soldiers down to the breaking point and beyond. The estimated number Murtha mentioned that will come home with profound mental problems from these extended combat tours is currently 65,000. That's the number of soldiers who will return with post-traumatic stress. Murtha said these soldiers should probably only rotate into this mess for 9 months. Maybe even as little as 4. That's the level where the stress starts breaking them down and they start making bad decisions.

Instead, the Commander in Chief has just extended tours of duty to 15 months, rather than get more help. Why doesn't he want fresh troops? Even Murtha says we should go with a draft if this war is what we want to do. There's the proof. This thing has always been about how it will spin, and Karl Rove and company realize that calling for a draft would hurt their polling numbers.

Winning in Iraq was never about winning in Iraq. It's always been about playing Iraq to win elections. And the soldiers you destroy doing it? Not a problem. Just make a few more speeches about how much you support the troops.

Born to Slack Show Co-Host Has a New Son

2007-04-19T07:35:00.000-07:00

This has been a painful week in a lot of ways, so anyone who comes up with good news is immediately a hero. That is why James Shibley is now a hero. He and his even more heroic wife really delivered this past Monday with a new baby boy named Robert. As loyal viewers already know,(just play along), James had the idea and was the inspiration for the "Born to Slack" cable access show - now shooting its 155th episode.

It should be interesting to see how this Hall of Fame slacker responds. One of his early concerns, expressed on the air by the way, was that the birth could come during James' watching of the Masters Golf Tournament. No worries. The baby might take after Dad just a little as he arrived a couple of weeks late.

There will be many sentimental scenes ahead as the proud father teaches the son how to use the remote control. Yes, the sofa will have a tiny new indentation from another set of ass cheeks. I even suggested placing the baby in the rather substantial sofa imprint of James' ass in lieu of a playpen.

Speaking of the Masters, after Zach Johnson won he went over and kissed his baby son. It was immediately obvious that winning the Masters was one level of importance, but having the kid was what really mattered. Sitting at home watching, I said to myself, "What James is doing here is more important than winning the Masters." And it is. Mother and Baby are resting comfortably and you know James is.

The classic part for me was that I had just experienced a break-in when he called. As bad as Monday sucked for the rest of the nation, I somehow managed to have it suck that much worse. I went out at around 2 to have coffee with Phil Stanford, and when I left the house, my wife was just planning to go out. When I got back at 3:30, the front door was open and the place had been trashed. The first level of alarm was when I realized the thief could still be inside. So I searched around in combat warrior mode. How do they say it? I swept the house for the perp.

The really horrible part was when I called my wife's cellphone, and got the call forwarding thing twice. If she goes out driving or to the store, she doesn't like to talk on the cellphone for more than a few seconds. Suddenly, I got a cold chill: Door open, house trashed, wife gone, phone not working, car gone....could this be a home invasion, kidnapping scenario? I called 911 and when they asked if it was an emergency, I described what I had so far, and they sure took it seriously. I was starting to breath more quickly, and I was just getting that ominous, dreaded deep-fear thing, when my wife drove up in her car. Whew!!!!!

She had gone out and normally takes the phone. This time she had forgotten. Though the cellphone was now with the thief - as I had figured - at least she was not. She was safe. After that I was so relieved that the rest of the experience was almost euphoric. The police officer was great. Officer Brock Sorensen took the report and he seemed like a credit to the force. The finger print woman mainly dealt with my wife as the phone rang and it was James calling about the new kid.

I didn't bring up what had just happened as it was his big day. The classic part was hoping that he wouldn't want to do the "Born to Slack" show this week because of the new baby. He said that he was up for the show and could make it over Friday. He even said that it would be "routine." I didn't say anything, but it was a classic comedy moment. Routine? Sure, except that my video camera had just been stolen.

Other plans have been made, and my wife and I are living through the post-crime paranoia. I wanted to attend the Steve Novick announcement yesterday so I threw on the suit and was rushing around writing my jokes so I could go. When it came time to shave I realized that the bastards had even taken my electric razor. I'm not kidding. So I arrived at Steve Novick's announcement with a suit but a sort of stubble look.

Oh well, I bought a new razor last night, we replaced the wife's phone, and made an arrangement for the camera. I also lost a Fender Telecaster in the deal, but that's just like a musician tax. Every ten years or so someone steals a guitar. I'm still just grateful nobody got hurt. I even told Phil, I probably would have been taking my nap when the guy came in so there's a chance his call for coffee could have saved some real ugliness.

Monday was a horrible day for America, and I can't complain too much. I came out of it with my wife safe, and with my friend James having some tremendous news.

In fact, that's the positive. With all the horror in the world Monday, there was also a new little baby full of hope. As my comedian friend Troy Wagner said when he called from Florida, "I'm buying stock in Doritos. There's a new slacker in the world."

The Portland Freelancer Is Busy

2007-04-18T10:10:00.000-07:00

I'm not into it today.

The Portland Freelancer has an appointment this morning. I hate it when that happens.

Islands, Islands Everywhere

2007-04-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

Jack Bog is running a Survivor contest for the city council to see who gets voted off the island. Randy Leonard is firing back on Blue Oregon with a Survivor contest to see if Jack should be voted off Randy's island. Meanwhile the Portland Freelancer sees a third island, a place where a badly sunburned new arrival wants to set up a different system of governing whereby he would have much more power at the expense of the others. Meet Mayor Potter and his new charter idea.

Web Broadcasters: The Wild West Just Got a Lot Less Wild

2007-04-17T04:59:00.000-07:00

How in hell can you charge a retroactive fee? That goes on my list of top ten scariest concepts ever. Can you imagine a tax being passed where everyone has to dig up their old forms from 2005 and pay a new fee based on what happened back then?

I admit I do not have a complete grasp of the details here, but I feel a huge chill come over the Internet this morning, and it's only beginning. I am already nostalgic for the way things used to be. This web broadcaster ruling will change things going forward, and by making the royalties retroactive for 2006, it has changed things in the past as well. It's almost as if the government has determined that the Internet has been a beacon of freedom for too long and that must cease. Here's one paragraph from the article:

AccuRadio.com said that in 2005 they paid 5% of their revenues to songwriters and the 12% required by SoundExchange. "On $400,000 in revenues, we paid Sound Exchange about $48,000," wrote Mr Hanson. "Under the judges' decision, we owe $600,000 for 2006 - which is about 150% of our total revenues. That would absolutely bankrupt us and will force us to shut down." He said the wider implications of the decision were "possibly fatal for internet radio".BBC NEWS | Technology | 'Fatal' blow to web broadcasters

Tough Day in America: Let Marvin Gaye Help You Out

2007-04-16T20:20:00.000-07:00

The arrangement alone is enough to make this stunning. Then you consider the person and the talent, and that makes it brilliant and historic. Finally you get to the spirit behind it. On an emotional level, this is....well, it might help you on a day like today.
YouTube - Marvin Gaye sings American National Anthem

Virginia Tech Shooting

2007-04-16T09:38:00.000-07:00

Obviously, I wouldn't have named the post below "Optimism Monday" had I seen the story from Virginia Tech. My thoughts go back to the sniper in that university clock tower in Texas. What a grim story today. Those are numbers you'd get from a car bomb in Iraq. Now, I've got to put it aside and write comedy. These are the days I pay for having this job.

Optimism Monday: Who Is This Guy and Is He Bearing the News that Could Save Our Species?

2007-04-16T07:29:00.000-07:00

Okay, first some business: I saw the profile of Don Imus from 10 years ago on "60 Minutes." Mike Wallace interviews him and calls him for using the n-word off camera. For the first time in this ordeal, I was surprised. I didn't realize Imus was like that - I was fooled by the on-air persona. Imus sounds like much more of a racist than I realized. I now know why he wears a cowboy hat: To keep his head from slipping completely up his ass.

Second, I happened to be listening to Art Bell last night, and he had the mother of all guests. Skepticism is required, but this guest was talking about a man named Boyd Bushman, pictured above.
I will spare you the details except to say that if this guy is for real, the secrets of anti-gravity and zero-point energy have been known for decades. I'll just say it as if it were true to save time: There are other types of forces besides the 5 we know about. One of them is called an expansion force that is driving the galaxies apart. The trick is to lock into this expansion force at which point gravity no longer applies. When that occurs it takes very little energy to go very, very fast. The many UFO reports break down into two groups: Ours and theirs.

If this is true, and I realize that's a galaxy-sized "if", then we are living in the dark ages of humanity. We are clearly in the dark about what our government knows. I tend to believe it, and one of the reasons is that it had better be true or we are doomed. I never was a big fan of Armageddon. We might have our faults but I think bagging the human species would be a mistake. Remember, we came up with rock and roll as well as football. We deserve to live. Hmm, wait. Roswell was in the late 40s, and rock and roll started the next decade. Let me rephrase that: As far as I know, we came up with rock and roll.

Take heart, my fellow earthlings. This is Optimism Monday. There is a significant chance that problems such as peak oil and global warming can be solved. We might already have the ultimate new energy system - one that will not only allow us to go on living here on earth, but move out to a new home in a galaxy near you. Okay, there are no other galaxies near you, unless this technology works, in which case, the possibilities have only just begun. It takes 100 thousand years for light to cross our galaxy. We need to go faster than the speed of light outside the normal rules of inertia. This guy says it's in the bag and the ideas aren't even that complicated. Happy Monday.
COAST TO COAST AM WITH GEORGE NOORY

President Bush and the Department of New Lows

2007-04-15T07:02:00.000-07:00

It's been another stellar week for President Bush's Department of New Lows. I hesitate to say this but one recent Bush quote could have hit the absolute bottom on the scale of human decency. Yes, I've been hurt before. No sooner have I said, "There it is. President Bush can't possibly do any worse", than the Boy King has opened up his mouth again and unleashed another new low. If FEMA worked as well as this Department, New Orleans would be the shining city on a hill that George's Daddy used to talk about.

This latest new low hurt more, because it followed a nice, almost hilarious stretch. Things have gotten so desperate for this administration, that recent spin has come off as great comedy. I loved it when Dick Cheney said it was great news that the British had set a timetable to leave Iraq. This followed months of saying how defeatist and wrong that sort of thing would be, but once it was presented to the VP as a done deal, he did what he always does: He opened his mouth and let the B.S. ooze out. Apparently, this was good news because it meant Basra was ready to go it alone. Not yet, actually, but the Brits could see a point next year when they could take off and go home. This was wonderful.

I'm not a military expert but you would think if Basra was secure, the Brits could help us in other parts of the country, especially since we're searching high and low for more bodies to send in. After all, the famous tide of victory is about to turn, so why not give us a hand? We're in this together, right?

What the British are doing is exactly what Cheney has called a strategy of cut and run. And yet, when faced with the exact situation he had been deriding, Cheney now loves it. Worse yet, his robot-like supporters nodded faithfully and bought it.

Oh well, at least we're only torturing logic this time. The Portland Freelancer has since given Cheney the coveted Iraqi Minister of Information Award, also given to John McCain for saying the market in Baghdad was safe. No word yet if the Vice President has been invited to host Saturday Night Live.

But wait, there's more: When huge crowds recently gathered in Iraq to protest America's presence there and to reaffirm a desire to see us harmed, Americans sort of knew what to expect from Bush Speak. The White House issued another statement about how this was more good news, because hating us meant they were starting to feel free. I actually anticipated something along these lines, but it's like sensing a punchline on a joke - it's still fun when it arrives.

Oh, I get it. Of course! The fact that they hate us, just means they're starting to love our way of life. Too bad they didn't want to kill us even more - that would make freedom and democracy a sure thing.

So we were sailing along on a wave of good fortune and everywhere things were rosy. When the cafeteria blew up in the Green Zone, I half expected Cheney to say it was just a bad batch of tuna casserole, and the fact that they're eating tuna casserole in Iraq was good news. Forget about winning their hearts and minds. We were winning their stomachs.

Of course, this group can't keep it up forever without doing something truly hideous. The other day, President Bush said a delay in passing another bill with more money for the war, "will mean that some of our military families could wait longer for their loved ones to return from the front lines, and others could see their loved ones headed back to the war sooner than they need to." Never mind that funding is available well into July, and President Bush is hyping the spending crunch. Never mind that this is a manpower shortage - not a money shortage. Never mind that there are no front lines - just a mess. Never mind that they never needed to go, and that the whole war was unnecessary.

To try and exert pressure on Congress by toying with the emotions of families with soldiers in Iraq is criminally cold. Of course, the Bush administration immediately followed these remarks by extending the tours 3 more months for everybody.

I just imagined a mother of a soldier listening to the President. How her heart must soar when someone mentions bringing her son home. Instead, President Bush was just using that tantalizing prospect as a cheap political stunt to try and get a bill passed that will only extend the conflict. There is no connection at all - it was the most cynical spin yet. It was just plain sick, and I can't imagine President Bush going much lower. Of course, I've been wrong before. With this administration, the Department of New Lows never rests.

The Oregonian Pontificates About Don Imus

2007-04-14T10:31:00.000-07:00

The Oregonian has jumped on the Imus-bashing band wagon, and it's the safe thing to do. Yes, this is the appropriate move by the corporate media, and the Oregonian's analysis of the depths to which radio has sunk under the shock jocks, is all standard stuff.

I just wonder if the Oregonian editors can hold that all-knowing mirror up and look at themselves? Maybe they should ask themselves about the depths newspapers have sunk to as well. Who has let America down more? Imus and his ilk on the radio, or the 4th Estate?

Before they answer, they should remember that when this country was heading into a war in Iraq, the newspapers went along on a government-directed marketing campaign. Imus didn't take that ride. If Imus led American culture "to a lot of places that would have been better left unexplored", he also explored the case for war when the newspapers refused to look. Wasn't this something that should have been examined more vigorously by our sanctimonious, government servants working in mainstream media?

Don Imus and his producer Bernard McGuirk were the most visible challengers to the War in Iraq before it started, while the newspapers were engaged in copying and pasting the GOP talking points. The exceptions in newspapers were few. For example, I wrote a couple of columns in the Portland Tribune questioning the wisdom of the plan just prior to the invasion, and I was told that led to my dismissal.

Back then there wasn't anyone besides Imus as high up in the mainstream media, who was willing to question the Iraq War. Up till last week, he was the most visible person on television who regularly referred to Dick Cheney as a war criminal. Not to mention the only one. Meanwhile, our newspapers continue to play it safe, through the most dangerously inept administration in American History. How will they be judged on that?

Yes, the newspapers did some stories on Walter Reed, but Imus wasn't letting the story go. He challenged the senators who came on his show the way the 4th Estate used to, before it was purchased by corporate giants and muzzled. So go ahead and unload on his cruel humor. It's always easy to kick someone when they're down, and the racist stuff is indefensible.

Just don't forget to shine that mirror on yourselves. When American culture needed the media to examine the Bush administration, you people were absent, and you still are. Imus was on the case. Imus was angry and outraged while the newspaper editors have been way too complacent and polite. It's like they're stuck in another century.

The editorial about Imus finishes sarcastically that it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Well, maybe the editors of our newspapers should stop being so nice - nice to the powers that be. I'd prefer a little less nice when it comes to issues in this town, as well as with the nightmares facing our nation.

When the historians write about these years, there may be mention of the negative effect of shock jocks on American culture, but the more damning assessment will be the effect of not having a 4th Estate that did its job. If newspapers were more interested in being an independent voice for the People, maybe so many of us wouldn't have turned to Don Imus to try and get a sense of the real news. The Internet gets blamed, but newspapers are also sliding because they haven't been performing their role in a healthy democracy - which is why our democracy is in some trouble right now. The ironic thing is that the newspapers are acting this way, even though they're paying for not doing their jobs. So go ahead and belittle Imus. If the circulation numbers are true, newspaper people are being chased out of their jobs just as surely as Don Imus was - it's just in slow motion.

Radio might have too much shock, but newspapers don't have enough. They're too content to go along. Sure, Imus was straddling some tricky demographics, but he rarely just went along. He didn't duck the issues or create fake ones to have something to report. He was grouchy and cantankerous, but anybody who can report on these times, and not be in a similar mood, is in denial, paid off, or crazy.

Oh, and one other thing: Imus might have had diminished clout according to the Oregonian, but he was able to raise the death benefits for a soldier killed in the war - a war that newspapers helped market - from $12,000 to $100,000 for the spouse and $400,000 for the children. He had enough clout left to do that.

Yes, Imus wasn't nice. Just ask Dick Cheney. Imus was a little too real, but newspapers such as the Oregonian are a little too phony. It's easy to lament the role of shock jocks in our society, and get all morally outraged about what's happened to radio, but the bigger tragedy is what's happened to newspapers. These Oregonian editors should hold that same mirror up and look at themselves.
In the end, the shock was his

Don Imus Would Have Appreciated This Angle: How Does His Firing Affect Me?

2007-04-13T06:23:00.000-07:00

The Don Imus firing might work out for me after all. Why? Because it is 5 a.m. as I write this - my old reliable time to start the morning. First, some background:

A few years ago, I used to get up really early, and find 16 wacky news stories from around the world and write 3 jokes each about them. I would only wake up when I wanted to - I haven't used an alarm clock in years, except for 3 or 4 unusual circumstances like a flight. These one-liners - coupled with 7 about what was on TV that night - would mean 55 jokes for the radio. Then I'd send 7 to Leno and call it a day.

Incidentally, I always have wondered if I should have spent more time on the Leno jokes, but as the Fine Young Cannibals song put it so well, "Baby, baby, don't look back. It won't do you no good." Besides, Leno has purchased more than 500 of them, so I did something right.

By quarter of nine in the morning, I was basically done for the day. That would leave time for other projects. I banged out over a half dozen scripts, and played a lot of guitar. I'd go for long walks and do an occasional banquet to keep my seniority in case the whole thing blew apart. Life was pure and simple, the way I like it.

When you wake up at 5 a.m. or even earlier, your mind is like the surface of a pond on a still morning - there is nary a ripple. The ideas come easily like rainbow trout jumping up out of the water.

Then I did something that changed things: I asked for a raise from the radio people. They replied that they would prefer making my life much easier, instead. They would send the stories and I would just add the jokes. I have to admit, it's much less hassle. I still do the 7 TV jokes at night. Then I sleep in, and do the Leno jokes first.

Actually, lately I've been doing the blog first, even before the batch for Leno. Why worry about a joke that could be on in over 70 countries around the world, when you can respond to a comment on your blog instead? That makes sense, right?

Here's the big change. I no longer woke up as early. Then sometime around 11 the stories arrive. I no longer have to search the world for wacky news - these things come in edited form ready to go. I just add 2 jokes each and send them back. An easy, sweet gig got even sweeter - as long as you can write this many jokes a day.

Plus, there's a significant audience. The latest number of radio stations I heard was over 140 and some of them are in some pretty exotic places. Last time I asked, and it's been several years, we were on in Namibia, Iceland, Sri Lanka, as well as a place they keep mentioning called Canada.

It is a comforting fact knowing that DJs around the world are reading my jokes. I want to be on the lighthearted side of the ledger. When one of my jokes bombs nobody gets hurt. And hey, it's cool that my material is on more stations than many of the big names, including you-know-who even before he got fired yesterday.

In fact, I have heard at least one of my jokes repeated on "Imus in the Morning." I suppose guests hear them on Leno and figure, "Who from those viewers is going to be up this early?"

This radio gig has lasted over 10 years so far, and it's the crown jewel in a lifetime of avoiding schedules. I study the way jobs and life styles force me into appointments, the way some people study the stock market. I don't need to be rich, but I want to be free. Most of my contracts specify that I never have to go anywhere or meet with anybody. Most of the trouble in this world starts with a meeting.

That's why I was concerned when my schedule slowly shifted. Ironically, my schedule actually suffered because I was a big Don Imus fan. Remember when he was taken off the 6 to 9 or 10 slot on KOTK here in town? That meant I had to tape him off MSNBC, and that meant staying up past the Leno monologue and switching the tapes. I've got most of my Leno jokes on tape, re-recording over a spot on the tape till I get one, then moving on.

Now that Imus is gone, I don't have to do this switch. That means I can just tape the Leno monologue and crash earlier at night. I have one less fixed point of time in my day, and believe me I've spent my whole life avoiding fixed points of time.

Yes, I'll miss the I-Man (for now anyway.) I see him in radio terms along with Wolfman Jack as the best of a tradition of bigger-than-life entertainers, from the old school of radio - a tradition that evolved even further back out of Jack Benny, Bob Hope and George Burns. Imus was an entertaining DJ doing talk, compared to the next wave of talk radio people, featuring all the right-wing, boring, serious types. These talk radio people now are mostly like politicians to me: Candidates who aren't running for anything - just running their mouths.

Rush Limbaugh and his spawn like Lars Larson are not entertainers at all, in my opinion. They are basically shills for the Man. They are like robot drone voices - propaganda merchants for the Machine. Lars Larson couldn't compete with Wolfman Jack's dead air, but you know what? Imus could. Imus used to party with the Wolfman.

You take out Garrison Keillor and none of the old vaudeville tradition is left. You take out Imus, and the record-spinning DJs who wanted to be entertainers first, gives way to the corporate motor-mouths for the most part. No laughs. No charm. No joy. Just words like little propaganda pills designed to dull your brain.

Imus always thought of things from one point of view: How they would affect him. That's what I'm doing here. His getting fired is a schedule change for me, much as the way the 11 a.m. thing with the jokes changed my life. Sometimes they get here at 11:15, sometimes 11:35. I'm not complaining. It's still a dream gig, but there is a "jump through the hoop" aspect that is just not me.

Today feels completely different. This is a change for the better. I just lost the second fixed point of my day: Having to change the tape after the Leno monologue. Imus is gone so last night I crashed early and woke up at 5 a.m. ready to go. No Imus. No tape switch. No appointment at quarter to midnight.

I'll miss the cranky old bastard. He was an American original like Jerry Garcia and Mark Twain. But it is still only 5:35 a.m. The pond is flat and the ideas are jumping out. Things are looking up.

A Week of Setbacks, but the Portland Freelancer Goes On

2007-04-12T07:27:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have a little stretch where the wheels seem to come off? That's what these last few days have seemed like to me. First, my wife did something weird to her new Apple computer. Actually, let me rephrase that in general terms: If you are at your new Apple computer and you get a long auto update thing combined with trying to listen to a song from Apple, and the download starts taking over a half hour, and something else goes wrong, do not, I repeat do not hit Force Quit. Otherwise when you turn on your computer you will get just a gray screen with an Apple and a spinning little wheel. It will be so frozen it will not even get to the blue screen.

Now for the good news: My wife talked with Apple 3 times and reinstalled her operating system from scratch, and her computer is now back. Whew.... There is something involving holding down the power button on the back while pressing the C key, then letting go of the power button while keeping the C key down, that breaks through a freeze like this. Of course! It's so obvious now.

Second, I found out my friend Lisa is no longer touring with the Decemberists. My sister had gone to see them in Alabama and since I had seen Lisa that morning in a coffee shop here in Portland, I began to wonder what was up. It turns out there was a different direction taken and she's not with them anymore. That really bummed me out as these gigs do not fall from the sky like rain.

Third, my site meter froze so it looked like I had zero hits for most of yesterday despite being linked from Jack's site. I look at things like that as a sign to get out.

Fourth, I got hurt on the Imus deal. Not as badly as the Rutgers women's basketball team, but my routine included staying up past Leno, switching VCR tapes and taping Imus on MSNBC. Then I'd play through the tape during other parts of the day, often switching to it during the timeouts of other shows. Let me finish this post with this subject:

Racism sucks. Imus's comments were racist and indefensible, even if I wanted to defend him on this, which I don't. But there was a lot of good stuff on that show, and I will have to listen on WFAN on the computer which is a pain because you can't fast forward through the commercials. Imus did a lot of good politically with his grouchy act and we're living in a time of Today Show fluff where basically the media is a lapdog of the corporations that own it. Sorry, but I loved the way Imus challenged the powers that be.

One person who must be thrilled Imus isn't on MSNBC anymore is Dick Cheney. Nobody went further than Imus in calling out the VP for his horrendous mismanagement of our foreign policy. Perhaps the most scathing Imus comment about Cheney's courage was after Saddam had been hanged. Imus noted Saddam's strength in facing what has to be the ultimate scary scenario. He also speculated that Rumsfeld would probably face it with similar tough guy courage. Cheney though? Imus said Cheney would fold up like the trembling little punk that he is. Cheney would act like a crying little kid. I think Imus was right, and I think it was a valuable insight, but let's face it: This is not a discussion you would get on the Today Show.

Tell me where else you can repeatedly hear the Vice President of the United States called a war criminal? Mike Malloy's show on Air America? Well, Imus got farther inside the beast than Mike Malloy ever will, and Imus did it with a lot of laughs, plus he was on TV. How much power did Imus have? After hammering Cheney for years on Iraq, Cheney still showed up one time to do the Imus show. That's the type of clout we need our media types to have.

So it's been a rocky week, but screw it. I was made for these times. I eat setbacks for breakfast. Every change is an opportunity and moping is for losers. In the words of our beloved President, "Bring it on."

Yao Ming on Broadway

2007-04-10T20:18:00.000-07:00

I went out to dinner tonight with the wife and ended up shaking hands with Yao Ming. We ate at Sauce Box on Broadway and Yao was standing outside the Benson. My wife just said, "Look, there's a basketball player," and I guess that was a fair assumption. If not it was some other guy 7 and a half feet tall, wearing a blue warm-up suit and signing autographs.

Think of how famous this athlete is worldwide. Of course, if you're a big hit in China, that automatically gives you some unbelievable numbers. For example, the Chinese version of American Idol gets a TV audience of 400 million. Compared to that, Simon Cowell might as well be on cable access.

I have met some tall people before. Once Manute Bol walked by me, and I also waited on Bill Walton back in the day. But the biggest person I ever saw was in the Hilton lobby restaurant. A normal man was sitting next to him, and the normal man looked like a child. This was Andre the Giant. He was 7'4" and 500 pounds. That is a nightmare for any buffet line.

Most other tall people have been just lengthy. Andre the Giant was massive - his skull was as big as a baby elephant's. Of course Andre was a wrestler - he was too lumbering to make it in the NBA. His turnaround jump shot would have taken longer than 24 seconds, so what was the point?

I wondered what I should say to Yao Ming as I shook hands with him. I suppose the lamest thing would have been, "How's the weather up there?" in Chinese. I did realize the language barrier and I also wanted to say something welcoming as an American to a guest here in this country. It all got jumbled up and I just said, "I appreciate you." Oh well, I'm sure the Chinese have a word for "dorky."

Comedians and Musicians: Jerry Seinfeld Is Closing In

2007-04-09T19:51:00.000-07:00

It's a little unusual that I write comedy for a living, since my heart lies in the music business. I always use the following two people to describe it: If Jerry Seinfeld walked into a room I was in, I would be more than happy to see him. I would consider meeting him to be a true honor and I would be quite impressed.

But if Eric Clapton walked in? That would be a mind-blower. I just can't get as excited about Lenny Bruce as I can about Ray Charles. It's just a different level of being impressed. I was always much more amazed by the Beatles than the Marx Brothers. That's just me, and I completely get those people who see comedy as the ultimate.

In fact, I have begun changing a little. I now think meeting Jerry Seinfeld would be at least half as amazing as meeting Eric Clapton, and that's way up. This is what I was pondering tonight as I watched an HBO show that presented Jerry with an award. By the way, you can't understand how great Seinfeld is till you see him do a show. Forget the sit-com or a 6-minute spot on Letterman. If you see him do his act, you will know why many say he's the best standup of our generation. In fact, there were a lot of parallels to seeing a great musician - something I didn't understand watching him on TV.

The other comedians onstage at this award ceremony were Gary Shandling, Chris Rock, and Robert Klein. Incidentally, I have met Robert Klein before and he's the perfect way to describe this difference. You know what really knocked me out about Robert Klein's act? His musical ability. He can really sing in a way I envied and admired. Of course, he's a legendary comedian, but that part I knew.

So what's changed? As I get older and begin thinking more about death, I have begun seeing the value of comedians with new eyes. It's a noble struggle between the unavoidable seriousness of life, and that ability to laugh. It's easy to giggle about something when you're in 6th grade, but to see the humor in things even after life has delivered some crushing blows? That is a brilliant gift. In short, what comedians do, impresses me more with each passing year.

For example, when they gave Jerry Seinfeld the award, he said, "Your whole career as a comedian is about making fun of pretentious, high-minded, self-congratulatory, B.S. events like this one. The whole feeling in this room of reverence and honoring, is the exact opposite of everything I have wanted my life to be about."

Isn't that a beautiful acceptance speech? Now, don't get me wrong. I'd still rather meet Eric Clapton, but Jerry Seinfeld is closing in.

Why Imus Matters

2007-04-09T18:46:00.000-07:00

Losing Don Imus would be a disaster for American broadcasting. Below is part of an interview with Senator Chuck Schumer that I first heard on my daily taping of the Imus in the Morning Show. It impressed me so much that I asked my wife to come down and hear it, too. (Incidentally, I copied this section of transcript from the Progressive Review.)

Before I reprint it, I should say in these days of media consolidation you rarely get a chance to hear anyone stand up to the people in power. I have heard Don Imus call Dick Cheney a war criminal at least 100 times, and that is something you don't hear from many media types - especially not Republicans. Yes, the shock stuff is harmful, and I'm not minimizing it. But the value of Don Imus is unique - there is no one else who could call Dick Cheney a war criminal and have Cheney still show up to do his show. That's power we need on our side in the big picture.

Here's part of the Schumer interview and believe me the transcript can't possibly show the genuine anger with which Imus dressed down this politician. We can't afford to lose a voice like this:

Imus: We've known for years, certainly since 1981, that the care and the way that these veterans have been treated to a large degree, not because it's the people's fault - most of them, the doctors and nurses
particularly at the Veterans Administration - but for a variety of
reasons, in many cases, their treatment and care has been woefully
inadequate. The bureaucratic red tape has been a nightmare for a lot of
these people, and that's been going on for years, and my question is why haven't any of you ever done anything about it?

Schumer: Well, we've tried. I've been fighting since I got to the Senate
for full funding for the veterans, and we didn't do any oversight.
That's the real problem here . . . I'll tell you one other thing that
will happen. We'll get full funding for the VA this year, for the first
time. We did actually, to show you a little bit that this isn't just
catching up to the crisis, we did a budget in early January . . .

Imus: Let me interrupt you for a second, but this is nonsense, Senator
Schumer. I want to be respectful, but you can't possibly be serious and
suggest - I mean I'm not a fool. You can't suggest to me that because
the Democrats are now in power that something is going to be done about Walter Reed and about the mess in the Veterans Administration and all of this, and that if the Democrats hadn't taken control of Congress that nothing would have been done. That's preposterous; of course it would
have.

Schumer: Well, something would have been done if the story would have
gotten out . . .

Imus: Here's another question. Have you ever been over to Walter Reed?

Schumer: Ahh, not in a while, no.

Imus: How long has it been since you've been over there?

Schumer: Oh, before Iraq.

Imus: So, before Iraq since you've been over to see the soldiers. So, we
have elected you - first in the Congress and now in the Senate - and
you've got a bill now to do something we'll get to in a minute; but you
haven't even been to Walter Reed Hospital.

Schumer: No, no, no. But I have visited regularly the veterans'
hospitals throughout my state. That's where I have focused on . . .

I say Imus should stay. His apology and pledge to do better couldn't be enough to erase the hurtful nature of his words, but at his best, Don Imus is a valuable force for everybody.

Apology Week

2007-04-09T07:11:00.000-07:00

It's not just Don Imus who is in apology mode this week. I feel like I lost my temper somewhat over the past few days, and went for a counter-productive stroll on the dark side. It's a matter of pacing myself and not letting the frustrations of these years dictate my mood. But that approach certainly didn't work over the weekend, and I became steamed.

I used to have to address banquet crews of sometimes 30 or so people in my captain days and this was one of my pet subjects: It's not enough if we pull this function off, if we have to lose it with each other to do it. If the end result involves hard feelings and an ugly vibe in the crew, then we have failed, even if the party was a success.

I have a commenter who is named Butch who got to me. I've defended him in the past when he got to other people, but I set a standard for myself that I wouldn't descend into what I would call the pre-fight rhetoric of the tavern days: Things that you say that are not intended to do anything but piss off the other person. I also admit this thing with Butch has been building for months and I do sound crankier than I should with him but that was just banter. However, there was an exact point when it turned to anger for me.

I have identified the type of comment that sets me off, and hopefully, I will not let my reaction happen again. So what was my vulnerability?

What gets me is when someone asks you something and then proceeds as if you had answered. Maybe it's better if I give you a fictitious example:

"Did you even bother to read the Constitution? I didn't think so."

I have put up with a lot of goading from Butch. He'll ask me a question that's off the immediate subject, and then if I ignore it, he'll repeat it and say I'm ducking the question and what's my response? Then he'll say, "I'm still waiting..." That sort of thing - though irritating - is not the problem.

However, it turns out that if someone asks me something and then assumes what my response would be, it makes me mad, especially if they are wrong. That's a problem area, and I admit it, but it ends today.

I think if you're going to ask someone something and not give them a chance to reply, it is disrespectful, but I can handle that. However, if you presume to be able to look into someone's head and know the answer, that is very annoying. And when your clairvoyance does not extend to being correct, well, I find that intensely obnoxious.

Check that: I used to find that obnoxious. I'm reprogramming my operating system and adding that patch. But the real problem is I shouldn't have allowed it to get to me.

Many times after a serious banquet, I would see people apologizing to each other. Some wouldn't speak for months. Others would just shift into a continual ongoing annoyance with each other that just means there is a little more ugliness in the world.

I don't want to be in that group - we should be able to vent on these blogs without escalating into anger. I apologize to Butch. You're a challenge to me, and this past weekend, I came up short. I apologize for getting mad.

I will end with a funny story that shows the positive side of my interactions with Butch. On Friday I created a new folder for the radio network and put that day's work into it. We're talking about 30 to 50 jokes - the numbers vary. Just before I sent this batch, I didn't recognize this new folder so I dragged it to the Trash and emptied the Trash, losing the work.

Now, I know there is a program to retrieve things even after they are emptied from the Trash but I did not have time to learn that. I called my radio clients and said the material would be late that day, and then I started typing the jokes again from scratch.

Thanks to my many rapid, anger-driven exchanges with Butch, I am now a high-speed typist. The problem was fixed in half an hour.

Uh Oh! The Bush Administration Detains the Easter Bunny

2007-04-08T05:40:00.000-07:00

It's been a special morning at the Crawford Ranch. The Secret Service put a set of rabbit ears on President Bush's bicycle so he could pretend he was the Easter Bunny. Then he went to a church service so he could pretend he was a Christian.

But next came the hard work of searching for the Easter Eggs and President Bush just wasn't into it. He pouted and threw a fit, "Why should I have to find these eggs? This is no fun." Dick Cheney offered to shoot the Easter Bunny with his shotgun.

"No", the Boy King cried, "we would still have to find them." President Bush was lazy, which is why he already had over 400 days sitting at the ranch behind him. "Hunting for eggs would be too much like work. I'll think up something," the C Student said with a smirk.

Hmm, what to do? Wait, the Decider had a plan. Anything to keep him there in repose on his can. "Arrest the Easter Bunny", he cried - the order was given. "We will torture it and force it to tell us where the eggs are hidden!"

Alberto Gonzales agreed that the idea was valid and good, so the Bunny's long ears were crammed into a hood: "We will find these eggs this rabbit has concealed!" Unfortunately for the cause of freedom and democracy, the Easter Bunny died before its secrets were revealed.

Suddenly the President began to rethink. For up from the wind there arose a big stink. Bush tried pedaling his bike faster and faster, but everywhere he turned there was a new disaster.

He tried to pedal onward, but it wasn't working - he just didn't have the legs. Nothing could get him away from these rotten eggs.

The stench filled his nostrils and spread through the land. Torturing the Easter Bunny was his idea, what would the People think when they heard his plan?

The People felt badly but President Bush went on bragging as if things were fine and our spirits shouldn't be lagging: "I am a great leader. Let's have a celebration! Happy Easter to all from the Bush Administration!"

Breaking News: Dwight Slade to be Regular Guest on Lars

2007-04-07T12:58:00.000-07:00

Starting this Tuesday at noon Lars Larson will share an hour a week with the legendary standup comedian Dwight Slade. Slade, pictured here on his heroic trip to entertain our troops in Afghanistan should add a rare breath of unpredictability to a show mired in the conservative cookie-cutter morass that is right wing talk radio. The biggest secret about Lars Larson is that he actually does have a sense of humor as he used to show interfacing with Dwight on KXL's old "Dave and Dwight" show. Dwight has a way of getting Lars to loosen up and put down the talking points for a minute and that can only be good for Portland radio.

Personally, I think radio executives in this town are worried that a big wrecking ball is about to come sailing through their offices, as the right wing point of view goes over a cliff like a bunch of mad buffalo with no direction but down. The pendulum is swinging and when it comes crashing through the walls of the corporate boardrooms, there had better be some programming for the rest of us. This stint on Lars' show is a clear case of trying to cover that as the right wing pro-war base continues to dwindle. But why stop there?

In other words: Dwight should have his own show and maybe later Lars could be a guest. And don't bag it after 8 months this time. Dwight's last show there could have been HUGE by now. Nationwide-Huge. You had gold and you blew it. Oh well, at least the visionaries at KXL have seen fit to have Dwight on again. It's a start, fellows.

So I think I'm actually going to check this out. Wait, Oh My God! I just promoted the Lars Larson show. The Portland Freelancer is feeling dizzy. Must lie down.

So What's the Number of Iraqi War Dead?

2007-04-07T09:36:00.000-07:00

I thought it would be useful to step outside the U.S. media and get some perspective on how many civilians have been killed in Iraq by the invasion and occupation. Here's a little of the first paragraph from a piece in the Guardian linked below:

"This week the BBC reported that the government's own scientists advised ministers that the Johns Hopkins study on Iraq civilian mortality was accurate and reliable, following a freedom of information request by the reporter Owen Bennett-Jones. This paper was published in the Lancet last October. It estimated that 650,000 Iraqi civilians had died since the American and British led invasion in March 2003."

Pretty rough, huh? It's heartbreaking thinking of our country causing a death toll of these proportions. I should point out that these numbers will continue to grow as the thousands of tons of depleted uranium that we've spread there, continue to kill. You don't even want to know the half life of that stuff but it's over a billion years.

Now in case you try and say this is a "Hate America" column, I am just as upset by the United States soldiers who have died since the Gulf War because of depleted uranium and who will die from it in the future. It is standard for Republicans to seize on siding with the troops as a defense against studies and reports like this, when the reality is that the health and safety of the troops have been put in terrible danger from our depleted uranium, too.

It's also irritating hearing the right wing talk about the rights of the unborn when their twisted war has already sentenced untold thousands of unborn Iraqi kids to death. What about their rights?

We made so much about Saddam's weapons of mass destruction and yet we have been the ones killing people with nuclear radiation through tons of depleted uranium. Actually, outrageous hypocrisy is par for the course with the Bush White House, and I am proud that I can still feel even the slightest twinge of surprise. It shows this group hasn't robbed me of my last bit of idealism - at least not yet. However, I have adopted a rule to expect the opposite of whatever they are saying and so far it's worked out great.

It is also interesting to hear Bush supporters downplay the civilian death numbers here. The John Hopkins study that found the death toll of 650,000 Iraqis has been revisited in England and their thoughts are that the numbers are low. If the Bush supporters want to try and downplay what we have done in Iraq, they should challenge the article linked below. It's not enough to pull a convenient number like 50,000 civilian deaths out of their asses. As far as I know, John Hopkins is a respected institution, and the Guardian is a respected part of the British media. This is not the Sun or any of the other tabloids.

So read this link if you dare. It is not for the faint of heart. If the strategy of Bush supporters is to downplay the horror of what happened in Iraq, that's going to work about as well as McCain's recent remarks about Baghdad security. He has since retracted them. The time for unchallenged spin draws to a close. If Bush supporters want to challenge this number, then I wonder why they'd stop there?

If you want to spin in true Bush fashion you have to commit to the lies. Just deny we ever invaded Iraq in the first place.

A monstrous war crime | Iraq | Guardian Unlimited

Dick Cheney Spins the Pentagon Report

2007-04-06T08:29:00.000-07:00

It's not everyday that the Portland Freelancer lands in Time magazine, but I suppose for a joke writer, that's way up there. It happened last year and I only noticed because the same joke was reprinted in the Oregonian's editorial page with a little reference to Time under it and a nice ink drawing of Saddam. It just referred to a report that Saddam didn't have anything to do with 9/11, released by the Senate Judiciary Committee, and the punch line was, "Thank God we found that out before we did anything crazy."

I thought about that joke again today after reading about the Pentagon's new report saying that Saddam was not working with al Qaida and thus the basis for the Iraq War as revenge for 9/11 is just spin that spun out.

This report was noteworthy because it shows how far the Bush administration's influence on the Pentagon has waned. Do you think Donald Rumsfeld would have put this out? We now have the Pentagon discrediting the civilian leaders, which is interesting. It's a sign that they don't want to take the blame for the failure in Iraq, and don't kid yourself, Republican spin masters wouldn't be talking about how much better things are there, if it were true.

The McCain visit to the marketplace in Baghdad represents the almost comical level of spin coming out of the Republicans and this White House. McCain's attempt the other day - for sheer comic value - rivals the shots of the Minister of Information reassuring everyone that the invasion was being handled even as American tanks rolled in behind him. Years from now when this is all just a hideous memory, that scene with McCain will get similar treatment in the documentaries: "Look at me in my flak jacket with my 100 soldiers and 3 helicopter escort! I'm safe in Baghdad!"

So if the pro-war group is starting to look just plain ridiculous, how is our old lawyer-shooting buddy, Dick Cheney doing? The Pentagon report was a direct slap at his power, wasn't it? Where do you go when your own military treats you like this? Wasn't this a sign that you're loosing control?

Cheney was like a little piglet with no nipple left to suck, so he turned to the warm, ample bosom of Rush Limbaugh for the milk of jilted chicken hawks. There he proceeded to say that al Qaida was "present" in Iraq before we invaded. So that's the new threshold to justify this tragedy? Hell, they were present here. He didn't even try to say Saddam had harbored them. They were just present. You know, like in Minnesota.

Dick Cheney's counter spin on Limbaugh will be good enough for that last 29% - the ones that just don't get it, and will never get it. The ones that don't want to get it. We're onto the new spin now which is that the tide of victory is just ahead if those darn Democrats don't pull out the troops and run first.

Okay, Dick, but there was a time when you controlled the spin of the entire federal government. You and your little buddy Donald Rumsfeld would never have let the Pentagon report something like this. Now Donald is gone, and you're left running to Rush Limbaugh. Please, be a compassionate conservative for once. Rush's nipples have to be pretty sore by now.

President Bush: Already Failing In The Future

2007-04-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

When it comes to the future, W. already gets an F.

Pompous Bush supporters love to pick a mythical time somewhere out there ahead of us when the big wheels of history will turn and President Bush will be seen as great. Call it future spin. Now that the present looks so ugly, their fallback position is to look forward. As with everything coming from this bunch, it is transparent and stupid.

The thing that looks the brightest about America's future is that President Bush will be gone. He'll no longer have the ability to screw things up....or will he?

There is a very good chance that the full brunt of what President Bush has done with his time in office won't hit us till long after he's back in Crawford. That's when we'll really begin to pay for the damage.

If Time Magazine is correct, that will include rebuilding the military. Fighting an unnecessary war has taken an enormous toll on the army, especially with the caliber of planning that went into it. Just as we are still paying everyday for the contributions of Donald Rumsfeld, we will be feeling George's impact for decades to come.

The economics people are beginning to see what this era really was: A looting of the future to make the top 1% of wealthy Americans much richer. We hear endless stories about how great things are going, but not even the Bush crowd should try and tell us that he's made the economic future of America more solid. All he did was postpone and intensify the day of reckoning for our insane economic policy of borrowing from China and elsewhere to finance a get-rich scam.

We're already paying in some ways for President Bush's economic mistakes, but the brunt of it lies out there ahead. Being a superpower is an economic distinction. It's not how many nukes you have. The Soviet Union had a lot of nukes, too, but it imploded because of a collapsing economy. Many people believe the lazy, quick-fix mismanagement of President Bush could lead to our collapse from superpower status. The elite might be trying to get rich now because they know the whole thing's heading for the rocks. And wait till it's payback time from the rest of the world.

Indeed, at some point in the future President Bush could be seen - not as great - but as the man who brought down this country. The Soviet Union collapsed after their military adventure in Afghanistan. Maybe Iraq will be the beginning of our downfall.

Remember when these right wing blowhards would say we will win in Iraq because we must? Did anyone read Kissinger's latest remarks that we can't win in Iraq? And this is one of President Bush's advisors? Meanwhile we have Colin Powell warning that the army is "about broken"? The exact same people who talked down to the rest of us about how terrific they were at foreign policy and how much they support the troops, have turned out to be the worst thing that has happened to our military since Vietnam. And by the way, veterans from that conflict are still out there right now, wandering the streets homeless, incapacitated by the trauma of that war.

Not even these Republicans who talk so glowingly of how great President Bush will look someday, will disagree with one thing about our future: We'll be living with thousands and thousands of veterans from Iraq who need medical care for perhaps another 70 years. So even though Bush will be long gone, he will still be costing this country billions a year in heartbreak and medical costs till around the year 2077. Thanks, George.

To these self-righteous Republicans basking in the glow of their own patriotism, I understand your position. You think Bush will one day be seen as a great leader because that's the only place you have left. Besides, it's so easy to do. There's no work involved and that's in keeping with the "spin first" strategy of the laziest President in history.

Here, I'll show you. Watch me do some future spin for you: "I know Sanjaya is being ridiculed now, but some day in the future he will be considered as great as Marvin Gaye." Gee, that was easy.

The future is the only place where George Bush can possibly look good so you seize on it. Of course, when we get there we'll know that he's already screwed that up, too.
America's Broken-Down Army | TIME

The Tragedy of John McCain

2007-04-04T07:21:00.000-07:00

During my years as a banquet waiter, I met or was in the presence of many politicians including every President starting with Gerald Ford. Granted some were out of office or were just campaigning to get in at the time. It got so common to meet these big shots from many different fields that I used to imagine a wish list of people I wanted to meet next. For example, in sports, after Mohammed Ali came through town, and I got my picture taken with him, there was a time when I hoped to meet Joe Montana. It was just a little mental game to try and keep the job interesting. Montana never made it here, although I did meet Jerry Rice.

For years, the politician I most wanted to meet was John McCain. What a tremendous example of courage. Who can look at that film of him right after he was captured in North Vietnam and not be amazed at how much personal strength he showed? That is some remarkable footage. He just seemed to intersect with history on an elevated level. Then there's the footage from when he was right in the middle of that horrendous fire on the aircraft carrier from that era. This guy just seemed to have been picked for a starring role.

Indeed, John McCain was everything George W. Bush was not, so when McCain won the New Hampshire primary in 2000, the wretched attack dogs of Karl Rove and company went after this genuine American hero in South Carolina in a way that made even seasoned political operatives gag. One of the great "what-if's" is the missed opportunity we faced by not having McCain carry his momentum in New Hampshire to the Republican nomination.

When the desperate Bush supporters who comment on this site criticize my political leanings, it's usually to say that I am blinded by anti-Bush hatred, and that I always take the Democrats' side. This is a standard tactic of people who have little substance to defend their teenage puppy love for Bush so they try and define the argument as a Republican-Democrat divide.

First, let me say that I did meet Al Gore several times and worse yet, I heard him speak. It's cute how fashionable he's become again, and I attribute most of it to the unbelievably horrible job President Bush continues to do. Okay, plus the movie. But Al Gore used to drive me comatose with his speeches. I could hear individual brain cells in my head popping and committing suicide. He would say a few jokes and that would be fine, but when he shifted into that plodding serious tone, it was so boring you just wanted to scream.

Based on how I felt back then, if John McCain had run against Al Gore, I would have voted for John McCain. It's hard to imagine after 6 years of disastrous Republican rule, but I always put the individual ahead of party affiliation. For example, if George W. Bush were a Democrat, I would still see him as a shallow, vicious clown.

It's also hard to imagine voting for John McCain after how he's acted since then. This is a guy I have heard many times on the Imus radio show and he can be a very funny, together person. John McCain used to be cool. What happened to him?

It started when he forgave George Bush so easily for South Carolina. There was something wrong about that. Somewhere I believe John McCain made a compromise of huge proportions. I hate to say it, but he might have put his presidential ambitions ahead of the good of America. That really hurts me to suggest, and I hope I am wrong.

I loved when John McCain fought for the torture bill. That was the last time I saw the real guy. But then when he realized President Bush was just going to sign it, and announce he wouldn't follow it - you know, the standard Bush approach - I thought McCain would go ballistic. Instead, he rolled over, and it hurts me to say that. Maybe he just felt powerless to challenge our pretend king.

Now, he's so locked into supporting President Bush's version of Iraq that he seems to be carrying out a back-room deal: Support the White House, and we'll help you become President later. It's so sad. That scene in the marketplace in Iraq was so phony and weird that it almost looked like McCain was deliberately confessing. His remarks at the press conference were delivered in such a down tone, that it sounded like someone who is miserable with himself. It sounded like someone who had sold out his soul for political ambition, and was beginning to realize it wasn't going to work.

I still would be honored to meet John McCain. That's never going to change. But I'll always see him in a similar way as I see Colin Powell - as a casualty of the Bush Years. In times this sleazy, a genuine American hero can turn into a tragic figure, but I'm still surprised they let it happen. Frankly, I think McCain's surprised he let it happen.

It's such a missed opportunity. We should be in the second term of President John McCain right now, and George W. Bush should be back in Texas wondering what he can possibly do to salvage his pathetic, wasted life.

Instead, we have an American tragedy on our hands, and it's only going to get sadder to watch.

25.) The Hitchhiking Years: The Last Legs

2007-04-03T09:03:00.000-07:00

It was now on to the finish line of my first big solo hitchhiking trip around America. I was weary. In fact, the neighbor down the street from my parents' place in Massachusetts, would later tell my Mom that I looked horribly worn down when I arrived to get the key. That is very possible. I had been out there on the road for 5 weeks, eating poorly, and camping out many of the nights. It was exhausting, and it would take a month to recover. Of course, by the Fall of 1972 when I went off to college, I would once again hitchhike across America in a 13-day trip designed to arrive on a date certain.

There, my new roommate who had arrived with his parents, his own Volvo, some massive stereo equipment, and lots of other possessions - all to make that first big break from home easier - would be sort of startled and disturbed when I showed up with just a backpack. This would be later after Summer vacation, and there was still some highway to go down before my first solo cross-country hitchhiking trip was in the books.

I was surprised when I found myself in West Virginia. I was on Interstate 70 going East and I was unaware of that little sliver of land that extends north. Then somewhere perhaps near Pittsburgh, there was a hitchhiking graduate school moment. It's funny the stuff you remember.

I always believed in holding a sign unless it was obvious where you were going. I saw many cases where my fellow hitchhikers were hurting themselves by not giving that little bit of information that would help a driver decide to stop. Sometimes a driver would actually say, "I wasn't going to stop but I saw your sign and I figured, heck, I'm going right there, and I used to hitchhike as a serviceman back in World War 2. So I said why not?"

It wasn't good enough to make a sign before you hit the road - you had to have the ability to make one while you were out there. Your list of equipment had to include ways to keep from freezing to death, such as a space blanket, but you also had to have a big magic marker that worked, and a couple of pieces of cardboard slid inside the frame of your pack.

The reason I make so much of this is that right at this point in the trip I found myself in an elaborate freeway toll-gate-entrance-number with like 10 lanes of traffic heading toward it and then splitting East and West afterwards. I'm not positive where this was or what it really looked like, but I do remember sitting down on the side of the road and taking 20 minutes to draw a very specific destination with road numbers.

Okay, this wasn't a recognized art form or anything but you'd be surprised how few hitchhikers did these things correctly. The worst was some hippie holding a little screwed-up sign that a driver couldn't read as the car approached. Either that or the first few letters were really big and the last 7 were all small and crunched together. I don't know about anyone else but to me these things were serious business, and I could draw a quick big-letter sign with the best of them.

So it was getting towards the end. In fact, I just looked up the date. This was the only specific date that I can recover from this trip. It was May 15th, 1972 when I arrived at Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut, where my sister was going to school. I know because the radios in the cars were all discussing the shooting of Governor George Wallace of Alabama - an assassination attempt that left him paralyzed. I had headed out on my 18th birthday on April 10th so it was basically 5 weeks on the road.

The final trip to Bernardston, Massachusetts should have been a snap, although I believe this was the time it took forever and I wound up getting stuck at nightfall in Greenfield around 10 miles from home. The drive from Hartford up in a car is like 90 minutes so I had spent all day mucking about New England just to go that far. It was as if the trip wouldn't end without a struggle. I would learn later that it's always tough to get that last ride home.

In fact, I pressed my luck being so close and tried hitchhiking at night, even though the chances of getting a ride were way down. Of course, by then, my senses were finely tuned from a million encounters on the road, so when a car of teenagers drove by, I took note. When they cruised by a few minutes later, I sensed a problem. By the time they came back really slowly looking for me again, I was in some woods nearby, peaking at them from behind a tree. I wasn't going to go thousands and thousands of miles around America only to have my ass kicked ten miles from home. I camped out and finished up in the morning.

Walking in the door of the farm was the moment I reentered society. Sure, I had made quite a few stops at homes along the way, but when the journey started I had checked out of normal society on some level. It's the feeling you get from the looks on people as they size you up on their way to the office to be lawyers, doctors, etc...You'll feel like an outsider doing something like this - trust me.

If you're walking through with a backpack on, you'll get quite a few serious looks of scorn. At first you'll want to say, "But I'm one of you." Soon, however, you step outside and you'll want to say, "No, you were right. I'm not one of you." It's not as drastic as being homeless, but it's a break in the emotional connection to normal living.

So it was a little jarring: Not only was I back in polite society, but I was back in the jet set. It was time to fly home to Arabia. As I made my way through several cities of Europe, partying, and generally living it up, I would get a momentary start wondering where my backpack was. Then I remembered: That journey had ended - it was time to go home to be a kid again in Arabia.

I was out of the woods, and off the streets, back in a nice hotel again. Life was amazing in those days, and the kids from my town in Arabia knew it. Meanwhile, at the farm in Massachusetts, my backpack awaited. I was 18 and there would be thousands of hitchhiking miles ahead.

Curtis Salgado Update

2007-04-02T10:24:00.000-07:00

When a city commissioner such as Randy Leonard writes in and asks for information, I get on the case. One of the highlights of the Paul deLay sendoff was Curtis Salgado's appearance. It was actually a little eerie seeing him there as if nothing happened. Not that I wrote him off or anything but he doesn't look, sound, or talk like someone who just dodged death. I guess his comments reflected an added appreciation for being alive, but he was the same guy as before. He hasn't lost his edge, that's for sure.

Musically, one highlight was when he sang a harmony with Lloyd Jones on "Early in the Morning." The Blues makes much less use of vocal harmonies than other styles of music, so it sounded cool to hear them nail this. Apparently, it was an early Paul deLay record that Curtis took home and studied as a definitive example of great harmonica playing. Incidentally, where you hear harmonies in the Blues is usually in the horn section, and that added a lot of great sound last night. Plus all these old Blues players just look cool.

I also took a schedule for the Museum After Hours concerts - which I admit I never went to before - and it says Curtis will be back performing there on April 18th at 5:30 p.m.(Members 8 bucks, Non-Members 10.) He's still got it all as far as I could tell, and if you don't believe me, go check it out yourself.

One thing that Paul deLay's passing reminds us of, is the truly amazing place music has in our lives. It really was quite a tribute to a man that so many people would come out on a Sunday night to mark his passing. And it wasn't an obligation as much as a great time - despite the sadness of the occasion.

Paul deLay Goes Out In Style

2007-04-01T23:02:00.000-07:00

I've been around long enough to recognize a legendary scene when I witness it, and to see the Portland Blues community take over the Art Museum tonight to honor Paul deLay, was classic. The emotional impact was set immediately when the woman standing behind me turned out to be Paul's sister-in-law complete with 2 children who were clearly paying total attention, thinking about their Uncle Paul. It really brought it home on that family level, before the extended family of the Portland Blues community took over.

My favorite story was when Curtis Salgado talked about being schooled on the harp by a 19-year-old Paul deLay, leading to a lifelong respect. Curtis said he's stood next to Santana, Prince and B.B. King and didn't feel intimidated, but Paul still made him feel nervous to the end. I like that sort of thing - the early psyche-out that never goes away. Curtis really looked up to him.

I also enjoyed Linda Hornbuckle saying that Paul's band put her on the map when "Paul went away for a while." Now, that is such a classic musician interaction especially with this genre.

Speaking of styles of music, there's often a service or memorial concert with known acts chiming in, and it's usually interesting to hear how familiar lyrics fit in with the subject at hand. It's always cool when the lyrics take on extra meaning, and there's an occasional groaner when something comes out wrong in the new context. That's what was so great about the Blues music tonight. It really works in this sort of setting. Your buddy dies and you play the Blues. This music was designed for occasions like tonight and the Portland Blues community should be proud - they really did it up right.

One Line Jumps Out From Matthew Dowd Defection

2007-04-01T03:47:00.000-07:00

You knew the anti-Bush people would jump on this, and I am in that group. The idea that Matthew Dowd, one of Bush's inner campaign circle, has bailed out on the President is news, but it hasn't affected me as much as others. We are so far into tragedy here that an admission of guilt and remorse by one of the people responsible, just makes me slightly more annoyed. It's like hearing drunk drivers say how terribly sorry they are about causing a lethal wreck. It might help a little, but it doesn't help much.

However, I was taken by one sentence in the New York Times article, because it sounded like something I've been saying about Bush supporters for literally years now. See, I don't believe any rational person could look at who President Bush is, or what he has done, and buy it. Dumb doesn't come in that flavor. So my conclusion early on was that Bush fans were in the throes of something irrational. The more I looked at the symptoms the more it became clear: This was teenage puppy love.

I'm not saying they were teenagers - they're mostly adults, and they definitely should have known better, which is why Matthew Dowd is so wracked with guilt now. However, the rest of the syndrome fits as tight as a high school sweater.

Do you remember in the early campaigns when President Bush would talk about his personal charm as a factor in diplomacy? See, as a rich punk with a well-connected father, young George was able to slip through trouble unscathed, and being an arrogant lad with a dull, faulty brain, he interpreted this to be a result of his winning personality.

It seemed crazy, but you know what? He was right to an extent. At least he was able to charm the pants off of many of his supporters. They saw him as a godly man out there clearing brush in his cute blue jeans and they were moved. You have to concede that there is a permanent percentage of the American Public who still gaze into his soft, lying eyes and feel stirrings of affection.

The reason I compared it to high school was that it was reminiscent of an experience most of us witnessed there. Did you ever see a sweet, young teenage girl fall for the wrong guy? I mean everyone in school knows the creep is a shallow, reckless, irresponsible, dumb, lazy, manipulative weasel. Her friends know it. Her family definitely knows it. Hell, even HIS friends and family know it. But the teenage girl goes right on pining away for the affections of this arrogant loser, telling everyone who'll listen how cute and wonderful he is. Meanwhile, the entire high school student body knows it is a disaster unfolding before their eyes.

That is what happend here and they call it puppy love. Those are the Bush supporters. Matthew Dowd is just snapping out of it now. He's the young girl who phones her friends, (in this case the New York Times) and says, "I've been such a fool."

Of course, like the drunk driver who kills someone, this expression of regret doesn't help much now. Those 3,000 plus soldiers are still dead, and their families are still devastated. Those tens of thousands of seriously wounded soldiers are still dealing with their wounds. And those hundreds of thousands of Iraqis are still killed or wounded as well. Not to mention that the entire world is a much worse place because of this chain of fiascos, and could even be heading for true global catastrophe. Oh well. At least there is one more person who has grown up, and seen the truth.

Yes, the Portland Freelancer was convinced that the analogy of the teenage girl in high school, was accurate in describing these pathetic, misguided people, but it's always interesting when one of the teenage girls involved chimes in with some proof. Did you read what Matthew Dowd said to describe his irrational support of the worst President in American History? "It’s almost like you fall in love."

24.) The Hitchhiking Years: The Storm

2007-03-31T08:52:00.000-07:00

By the time I got to Ohio again, the freshness of Spring had given way to the first signs of Summer. There was no question I was also not the same. The person who had slept in a farmer's field the night after my 18th birthday was significantly less idealistic than before. Do you remember that? I had been attacked by a dog in Buffalo and the next night in Ohio was when I really dealt with the paranoid aftereffects, especially when I heard a pack of dogs barking in the distance.

This time it was around 5 weeks later and I was in southern Ohio heading East. Yes, I was much more used to being out there. My first major hitchhiking trip had been from Massachusetts to Florida and back on Spring Break earlier in the year when I was still 17, but that was with another guy from my hometown of Dhahran, Saudi Arabia. It's much different when you're out there on your own, and I had gone through quite a bit. Of course, this account is skewed because I mostly just mention the dramatic stuff, whereas much of it was just rides, conversations, and hitchhiking strategy: Lots of decisions on what to do, and lots of Americans to meet.

Here, I should say that the American People came off great. Sure, there were individuals who were a threat, especially the guy who tried to kill me in Arizona, but for the most part the citizens of the United States were terrific, and they really impressed me a lot with their warmth and humor.

I go through different levels of disgust with the government but I'll always love the American People. It's a hip room. I should add that you can also get a negative opinion of a country like England based on the pompous Royals, etc, but when you go there and meet the People they're great. It's the governments that are causing the problems. I always get a kick out of it when someone visits the Middle East and realizes how wonderful those people are too, despite what we've been told to believe.

I had some great conversations out there. You know a hitchhiker like me is a perfect confidant because I'm just passing through. I was told things that nobody in the driver's immediate life knew about. Plus, as opposed to taking a bus, these drivers would point out the really cool details: How a bomber had crashed on that hill over there, or how Timothy Leary had been arrested at that last intersection.

The other part that exceeded my expectations was the actual countryside. I love Arabia and I'm a big fan of the desert, but seeing the Rockies and the Wild West? What a stunning piece of land we have here. Mt Shasta, the Grand Canyon, the Colorado River, the Pacific Northwest. Every state had amazing parts. It's a gigantic, beautiful place.

Of course, there was no way the reality of the United States could match the mythical version formed in my brain overseas. At best, there were moments when it was close, such as the time I saw a young Jerry Garcia in the parking lot of a Holiday Inn in downtown Philadelphia. Or from this trip, the time I saw Willie Mays play baseball. But being here tore the mythical nature of the place apart.

By the time I hit southern Ohio on the way home, I had seen the heavy political wounds that were also everywhere in 1972. We were heading into Richard Nixon's reelection, Watergate was just ahead, and Vietnam hung over everything.

This led to an incredible lack of understanding between the generations, that manifested itself in millions of painful family scenarios. I also was aware of the racial problems but I didn't realize they were such a factor in society. I guess social issues in general seemed much more daunting than I had imagined as a kid.

When you heard the music of Chuck Berry or the Beach Boys you formed one opinion, but don't look too closely at Chuck Berry's real life - including prison time - and don't look too closely at the relationship Brian Wilson had with his father. If you do, the music might not sound the same.

1972 was the year I began to see these truths, although I didn't let my idealistic version of America go. I still kept it in my heart and visited there sometimes like a childhood memory. You know, I really enjoyed seeing certain places I had heard so much about, but I also appreciate the legendary cities where I didn't go. It's nice having those, too. For me, Detroit is still Motown because I've never been there.

So it was a weary and a somewhat more cynical hitchhiker who hit a roadside cafe before retiring into the woods to sleep that night in Ohio. I do remember sensing some really ominous energy in the air. The sky, and the way the humidity felt, seemed a little scary.

Sure enough, during the night, these thunder storms rolled through that shook the earth. I broke camp and jogged for cover under a freeway bridge amid intense flashes of lighting and giant Booms! Mother Nature was putting on an amazing display of fireworks. It was so violent that just being under the bridge wasn't good enough. It was raining sideways and I had to scramble up the hill and hide at the very top, right under the roadway of the overpass. Interestingly some other hitchhikers were pinned down all the way across the freeway and their voices traveled on the beams so they only sounded 30 feet away. At first they were whooping and hollering almost like at a rock concert, but with each devastating explosion of thunder they became more and more quiet. We were getting knocked loopy out there, and there was nowhere to go.

I realized I would have to stay the night on the concrete incline so I took my belt and some rope and tied myself to the beams. I got in the bag and eventually fell asleep, but it was one of those nights when you wake up three times as tired as you started. I was almost back to New England but I needed to hurry. America had been great, but I was fading fast.

Slow Times on Hawthorne

2007-03-30T09:45:00.000-07:00

When it comes to construction on Hawthorne, it ain't over till the orange barrels are gone. So in that sense the Tabor Hill Cafe is still a construction site even though the concrete was finally poured this week.

Let's review: Two Thursdays ago the city tore up the old sidewalk and part of the street, finishing that phase the next day. Then everything basically stopped for around 10 days. Incidentally, this is the part that bothered me. They acted like this guy could put his business on hold. Yes, you could still go in, but here is a shot of how inviting that looked.Of course, from across the street the barrels and fences made it look like you'd need a pole vault to get to the front door. This Monday there was finally a breakthrough. Work resumed and things were looking up. Here is a shot of how disruptive those days were.Then one day this week, the city literally made the small business owner walk the plank. Well, the concrete is done, but the orange barrels remain, possible because of work farther up the street. By the way the guy's attitude has been great even though he actually looks a little thinner than a few weeks ago. Plus, he did mention that this was nothing compared to the Khmer Rouge back in Cambodia. I'm delighted to hear that, but then again, if the owner of a small business in Portland has to point out that the City Council isn't as bad as the Khmer Rouge, isn't that already a little grim?

Big Targets in Comedy

2007-03-29T07:05:00.000-07:00

I always feel great when I sell a joke that takes on somebody big. The best example was when the leader of China came to the States and there were protests about his human rights record. My joke was that he didn't seem that phased by the demonstrations - have you seen his new cologne? (It showed his picture on the bottle and the cologne was named Oppression.)

Another time there was a conference between Thatcher, Reagan and Gorbachev after they were out of power. I wrote I didn't know what the conference was about but judging from these 3, it sounded like it was about unemployment. There have been hundreds of jokes about individual leaders, but this was a rare 3 in 1.

Of course, it was not anywhere near as important as showing the leader of China's face on TV in over 70 countries with the word Oppression under it. That sure had more impact than carrying a sign at a protest, unless the sign also made it on TV, which could happen.

Faithful readers of the Portland Freelancer - and hey, it's possible - might have seen the last post where I tanked with a joke, leading to fears that I would be out of the rotation for a while. Well, last night was more like it. I noted the shenanigans of Prince Harry falling down drunk in the gutter outside a nightclub, and Prince William grabbing a woman's breast in a photo and asked when Buckingham Palace had turned into a Hooters? They laughed pretty hard as opposed to the other night, so I'm back in the game.

The secret is that the crowd loves it when big shots are made fun of, especially if these big shots present themselves as superior, stuffy, pompous nitwits, which could be the Wilkapedia description for England's Royal Family. So last night was fun.

Music, Comedy, and Criticism

2007-03-28T13:30:00.000-07:00

I love watching these Classic Album and rock history shows on VH1, and one statement by Eric Clapton really floored me. I immediately filed it with some other comments I've heard over the years that shed some light at what it means to be great at music.

As a musician, I've always been sensitive to criticism but I figured it's because I'm not that good. I can't believe how proficient the greats really are. In fact, for years I assumed amazing records that I really loved were just that one magic take. I didn't understand that the Beatles could bang out those harmonies at the drop of a high-hat cymbal. I still find it hard to believe when I read about their actual output from the logs at recording studios like Abbey Road. They could crank out 2 or 3 classics in a day.

It was also quite a shock to realize that Ray Charles was putting out an album quality performance basically every night. Prince, too. So I began to collect little anecdotes that showed these people were normal humans after all. One was reading that Paul McCartney panicked just before "Revolver" came out because he thought the whole thing was out of tune. Another time the great soul singer James Ingram finished recording and asked Qunicy Jones if it had been in tune, and Quincy said, "I don't know - it sounded good." That actually freed me in a sense - I knew the process was like that for me, but I didn't think it was like that for James Ingram and Quincy Jones.

Contrast all this with comedy - something that is easy for me - so easy that I never realized I had a marketable skill till around 14 years ago. If someone says they don't like one of my jokes, it's no big thing. I feel like saying, "And?" I guess I am proud of some of them but it's not that super-sensitive deal like with music.

When somebody said I sucked as a singer, I never forgot it. And back in the day? Oh, my God. I might be resentful for years. And what makes it even worse is that I do suck as a singer. I know it's true.

Well, guess what? I'm onto my new project and it's going to take some serious recording. Fortunately, it's mainly instrumentals. I've recorded more seriously in the last week than in the previous year, and it's like watching another personality come out of the deep freeze. If I play it back for my wife, no matter what she says about it, I sort of take it the wrong way. I'm right back at square one maturity-wise.

Meanwhile, I had a joke on national TV two nights ago that sank an entire monologue. It was so lame that it made the audience insecure in their ability to judge humor. I would say it took maybe 80% of the energy from a raucous Spring Break crowd and put it right into the garbage can.

Did that bother me? Oh, sure. I'm not going to say that it didn't bother me, but not the way it should have. It was just another day on the job - more like a "Whoops!" moment. In contrast, when my wife said the song I was working on yesterday was a "nice little tune" I became sort of defensive and weird about it. Isn't that strange?

So where is this leading? Okay, I always assumed rock gods like Eric Clapton would be different. Maybe not immune to criticism, but certainly more likely to shake it off. I mean he knows he's Eric Clapton, right? What can be so bad?

Okay, on the show last night they discussed how Rolling Stone magazine had a really harsh review of Cream. It's even been mentioned as a factor in Cream breaking up. It said that Clapton was a "master of the blues cliche" which is just ridiculous. So how did he handle it? Clapton said when he read the review he fainted. I'm not kidding. He said he stood up and got all dizzy and fainted. Eric Clapton said this. THE Eric Clapton.

Okay, I'm good to go. I might act a little sensitive to criticism sometimes, when it comes to music, but I never fainted over it. Time to wrap this up. I've got some guitar to record.

A Shocking Picture That Will Make You Feel Horrible

2007-03-28T08:13:00.000-07:00

This is a picture from a beauty pageant in Russia. Notice how they make the contestants wear numbers over there? Isn't that sick? Can the Russians truly be free from the remnants of communism if they treat their people like this? The Portland Freelancer wants to go on the record and say that these women are more than mere numbers to me. What a disgusting picture.

23.) The Hitchhiking Years: A Conclusion Near St. Louis

2007-03-27T06:31:00.001-07:00

American History is never as simple as we were taught in school. There's always more to it, but we make our own approximations and do our best. I'd say America in 1972 was about a generational divide. It really looked to me like it came down to the parents and the kids, and to us, the parents seemed to be driving the station wagon right off the cliff. That was what we thought of Vietnam.

We would become known as the Boomers, and we dressed differently, talked differently, and partied differently. We had landed in a pretty soft set of circumstances when you compare our time to the Great Depression, and rather than be ashamed of how we responded, I'm sort of proud. I mean, we were given an opportunity to have fun and did we ever. Sex, drugs and rock and roll were not just for rock stars back then. All three were hugely popular with our entire generation.

Any thought to the pitfalls of what we were doing, had not crossed our minds yet. We were too busy focusing on how our parents had screwed up the world, and Vietnam was a classic example. I distinctly remember looking at Nixon and knowing he was a weird creep. The fact that the adults seemed to go for him was proof they were out of it. But not to worry, we had a plan. For a brief time including 1972, it seemed possible to party our way to a better world. More than possible - it seemed like a sure thing.

So we weren't just having fun, we were doing something heroic. I really miss that level of delusion. I'm sure beautiful young girls still take rock musicians by the hand and lead them outside the gig to kiss them, but there is some realism now. Back then they would do it with a look in their eyes like you were a political hero. Merely by strumming a guitar you were fighting the establishment. The young foxes would offer themselves up partly as a reward for your political courage - even though you had not technically done anything. It was a time I am very glad I did not miss.

The history books will also discuss the Cold War. We were in a struggle with the Soviet Union and there was a serious fear that humanity could end in nuclear annihilation. Incidentally, that did not endear the establishment to us either. It was horrible enough knowing they had screwed up Vietnam - that they were snatching young men by the tens of thousands and shipping them off to die. There was also distain for the idea that the whole crazy situation could end up in a nuclear mushroom cloud. And unlike Iraq, the Soviets really did have the weapons.

We still had hope though. Hope and a plan: Maybe some kid with an acoustic would sing the right song and save the world. Hey, we're still here so apparently, it worked.

When I hitchhiked into St. Louis, I made a mistake. I went too far into the city, late in the day. I should have stopped outside of town. I was actually right under the arch - I just saw the exact spot again on TV during the NCAA Regionals of March Madness. I decided I had to ask for help and advice so I approached 3 young counter-culture types and asked where I should go to camp. They said to come with them - they would take care of me. It became apparent that at least 2 of them were on LSD. We got in the car and the Children of the Butterfly Gods drove me around 20 miles into Illinois to where they lived. Unfortunately, that was on an air force base.

I still don't know what their true motives were, but as we approached the check point for Scott Air Force Base, the guards recognized them and waved them in. Apparently I was also with some Children of the Cold Warriors. Okay, this was not a Strategic-Air-Command base where the big B-52s took off full of nukes in their continuous patrol for Armageddon, but it was close enough. Once more, I was screwed.

What had just happened? Why not drop me off somewhere else? Perhaps these tripping kids were trying to help. Perhaps they were using me to lash back at their parents. It had elements of both. Who knows? Maybe it was just a laugh. At any rate, they dropped me off at a baseball field and I went to the bench on the third base side, stretched out my sleeping bag, and began a troubled sleep.

I didn't know how close I was to the actual center of the Cold War, till the next morning. That's when a large military plane came thundering down a runway aimed right near me, and took off over the left field fence of the baseball diamond. My God, what a roar. It was not a B-52 but the symbolism was impossible to miss. I was camped out on a baseball diamond in America's heartland and part of our military industrial complex was taking flight right over my head. It was another ominous morning in America - the beginning of a long day of nuclear standoff with the Soviet Union. I scrambled out of my sleeping bag, realizing one thing immediately: I had to get the hell out of there.

I started walking along the perimeter fence warily. I saw ominous signs stating how anyone found on the base could be searched and detained, and at the time, I didn't know what kind of base it was: Would you want someone carrying a backpack full of God-knows-what getting close to our nuclear arsenal? So I was very concerned about being caught.

This was a classic example of the problems of my generation. These kids on acid were - at the very least - having trouble fitting in. Their efforts to help me had not been wise - their plan simply did not mesh well with the United States Air Force.

This said a lot about the gap we had with the establishment. It was also a preview of what we would learn later about the perils of drugs. Just the idea that there were people on LSD on an air force base was weird enough. You throw in the Cold War, and from a historical perspective, this was a defining moment of the trip.

So I was walking along the perimeter fence when I looked ahead and saw some kind of electrical installation. Lo and behold, there was a civilian literally on his knees facing the other way, working on it. Best yet, he had unlocked the gate to the outside world. It was a chain-linked, door-sized gate complete with a scary sign on it about the dangers of trying to come onto the base, and it was wide open.

I started walking really slowly and carefully. I snuck up within 10 feet of where the guy was working away and I eased out that gate. It was a close-call and a real glimpse at what could go wrong in the Fail Safe world of nuclear war. I had survived my night on Scott Air Force base and the world would survive another day on the nuclear brink. I was once more free to head home.

Tabor Hill Cafe: Life On Hawthorne

2007-03-26T21:26:00.000-07:00

When last I visited the subject of the Tabor Hill Cafe it was around 10 days ago. The sidewalk was torn up on a Thursday and on Friday the orange barricades were up with a dirt path to the door. Then it sat with no apparent work for a full week, at which time someone did a little more on the edging. The workers were there on Monday, today, preparing the ground for the pour.

My first post about this was critical of city hall for not having a more timely process. Today I walked by and the place was empty, except for the restaurant owner sitting down having a bite with two others. You can get in, but it doesn't look like you can from the other side of the street so business has suffered.

I know these things take time, but there shouldn't be a down week off where everything just sits there. It's hurting businesses on Hawthorne and it's just not fair. City planners would do this differently if their livelihoods were on the line. I originally was going to do a day by day pictorial of all this but I could have put the pictures from Day 2, a week later. Nothing changed for a whole week.

This is not the Baghdad Theater, where interestingly the barriers were pushed aside earlier and an improvised path through the site was formed. The Baghdad Theater is not going to go under based on these 10 days. But what about the small business owner? This guy at the Tabor Hill Cafe is working his ass off to make it in a tough competitive restaurant environment and the city is threatening his chances of making it. Even when this is done, his momentum could take a while to return.

I wonder if any of the city planners who threw this together work these hours. This is the guy's schedule: 8 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. 7 days a week, except for Friday night where he often stays till midnight.
That's right: 7 days a week, every week. It's a vision of the old American Dream when the immigrants first moved here. Incidentally, he came through the Cambodian Killing Fields so he still says this is nothing, but still....Are these the people we want to screw over in this city? The hardest working among us? I'd like to see the city planners try to keep those hours for a couple of weeks and then have some outside force put a hurt on their chances of making a living. It ain't right, and worse than that, it's wrong.

Oregon VA Hospital: A Bat Out of Hell

2007-03-26T20:40:00.000-07:00

How come I keep hearing Don Imus talking about a Veterans Hospital in White City, Oregon that's so bad it has bats living in it, and yet I don't hear about it from our local media? This is a major disgrace for our state. Here's a paragraph from the link below:

The White City facility said its colony of bats was tested and showed no signs of disease, and that the animals may even prove to be of some use. Notes accompanying the report said the bats ``keep the insect pollution to a minimum which is beneficial,'' and that eradication of the colony had been discussed but not implemented.

Bloomberg.com:
U.S.

The "Born to Slack" Show Finally Covers the Anti-War March Right

2007-03-25T21:08:00.000-07:00

The Drudge Report is a subtle right-wing site, and it rarely misses a chance to bolster that side of the argument. That's why it is still running video from Portland even though it is a week old, from the day of the anti-war march. This is the second major story Drudge has run on this group of 50 anarchists, and Drudge's implication is obvious: This is somehow representavtive of the anti-war protesters last week. Those who oppose the war hate the troops because these 50 anarchists hate everything. Way to cover the news.

The local Portland stations ran with the shots of arrests, so the end result was this march of over 10,000 citizens to protest the war, turned into a major media event for a small group of anarchists. That is the power of the media in the wrong hands.

Of course, it bothered me because it was counter-productive to the anti-war effort. It gives the right wing all kinds of ammunition to say, "See, these protesters are so bad!" So what is the Portland Freelancer doing about it?

I also video-taped the march and it will be on TV tonight. I must admit it was interesting to relate to the problems other TV editors face. You can't put it all on, so the networks use the most explosive footage, short of what could offend their audience. Believe me, both the banner and the visuals of this small group of anarchists would have offended most Portlanders. It was truly ugly which is why Drudge jumped on it.

So how did I edit my view of the march? I start with an intro sitting in my car, then I show a confrontation on Pioneer Square. I taped the anarchists and I even included a shot of them without showing their banner. That was my editorial compromise. I also showed a positive shot of the police chief. She was right there and exuded cheerful confidence which came off great.

However for the most part, I just let the camera run as the marchers went past showing their signs. Check out for yourself who actually made up this protest. Over the next two weeks I'm going to show all of them, although the ones on my side of the street come through the best. My cable access show, "Born to Slack", airs Sunday at 10 on 22, Tuesdays at 10 on 23, and Fridays at 11 on channel 11. I know we have some viewers because they told me directly that day at the march.

It's sort of sad really: What turns out to be the best news source on a major event here in Portland? The most fair and balanced by a 100 miles? Not the local network news which emphasized the arrests, nor the Drudge report which gave a huge stage for the anarchists, but my humble little cable access show. Tune in to see what really happened.

The 15 British Sailors and Marines: What Would Gonzales Do?

2007-03-25T18:32:00.001-07:00

These captured British sailors and marines scare the hell out of me. Could this be the trip wire that sets off the Iran attack? It's a troubling issue and I sense a sort of denial about it. Nobody seems to want to fill out any office pool brackets on where this is going. These sailors better not mysteriously turn up dead in the next couple of weeks or this could be the false flag operation of 2007.

The websites I read have been predicting some sort of incident that will precede our next preemptive attack, so anything in this area is drenched with suspicion for me. It's truly remarkable how things have changed. When I hear a story in the media or from the government I automatically assume there's a deceptive angle to it, and I sort of work toward the notion that it might actually be true. This one certainly seems unnecessary - that's for sure. There is no upside to it immediately apparent, especially since a kidnapped soldier story was the trigger for last summer's war between Israel and Lebanon.
This could be the early stages of another major crisis, and that's what I'm concentrating my worries on.

Still, I couldn't help wonder how Alberto Gonzales would feel if the "quaint" Geneva Conventions are ignored with these British sailors. How about if they were treated like we treated detainees at Abu Ghraib under the guidance of Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld? Wouldn't that be horrible?

I would prefer to live in a world where we could at least say, "How barbaric that these thugs treated the British sailors like this." Instead, we would have to listen to the rest of the world correctly point out that the Iranians had just used the incredibly low bar set by America with its pro-torture Bush administration.

It's kind of sad thinking these sailors could be in in safer hands than some innocent Iraqi who had the misfortune of being captured by the United States of America.

Wonkette Writers: Please Read This

2007-03-25T09:10:00.000-07:00

I'm a professional comedy writer, and I want to give you some advice. I know it's not easy finding the right range of glib. Your founder has moved on to Time Magazine and maybe you're feeling a little lost.

The recent bit entitled, "John Edwards announces that his slowly dying campaign will not be rushed by his slowly dying wife" was not funny. At the core of all writing, there is an underlying assumption that whatever you're reading was written by a human being. Even when I see the sickest possible stuff, I never wonder if it was written by a machine or perhaps an alien blogger. There is something about this that is so devoid of even the basic spark of the lowest of the low-lifes that it makes me wonder about your humanity. I've seen the original Wonkette on Imus and she seemed intelligent and amusing. You're not doing her or anyone else any favors writing this.

22.) The Hitchhiking Years: Taking the Wheel

2007-03-24T08:50:00.000-07:00

I was homeward bound. The only official business of the trip had been to register for the draft, and the stop in New Mexico had taken care of that. My plan to see some of America and have adventures had gone well, but I was tired. That's why I was now content to hitchhike for distance, rather than to stop here and there.

In my fading state, the ride with Jimi Hendrix's ghost seemed perfect. Arizona to Missouri? That's a long way. The only question left unanswered was whether there'd be some kind of symbolic conclusion to my trip - something that would encapsulate all that was going on in the United States in that long-ago year of 1972. The answer is yes, and it would occur just past St. Louis after the marathon ride in the Ryder truck.

Not that the driver was really a ghost - he was very much alive, but looked a lot like Hendrix. The guy, whom I'll also call Jimi, was as cool as can be. He was young, happy, and full of life. But he was also sort of concerned about his position in our society, especially driving a rental truck across such places as Texas.

You know, I once wrote comedy for Jimmy Walker who starred in the "Good Times" TV show and whose signature phrase was "Dyn-o-mite!" It was interesting to feel the difference in the premises between him and some of my other clients. What does it imply when you say, "A black man is walking down the street in America", compared to "A man is walking down the street in America"? There's a difference, wouldn't you agree? I mean, as a comedy writer I felt it. If you are black in America you are already in a little trouble. That's what I sensed writing jokes years later for Jimmy Walker.

Back to the story: The guy in the Ryder rental truck was a little concerned and he was also irritated because this was not his job. His job was to assemble electronic equipment, but they had a rush order for the military and he was elected by his boss to drive it as fast as possible from Southern California to someplace near St Louis. I can't remember exactly where.

He obviously enjoyed talking and was bored with the drive, but that wasn't the reason he stopped for a hitchhiker. I could tell he was worried about the trip. It was clear he wanted someone else in the cab with him when he drove across the northern part of Texas, and through Oklahoma. I'm not talking about paranoia here - just concern.

Meanwhile, I was going through some paranoia of my own. I couldn't stop thinking about registering for the draft back in New Mexico, imagining how things could go wrong with signing up the way I had.

Of course, it was 1972, and there was also reckless behavior with drugs. Jimi took out a clear jar and in it were a bunch of different colored pills and 5 or 6 joints. We smoked a joint and settled in for the long journey ahead.

After several hours, Jimi said, "Can you drive?" I had a license but at the time, I couldn't handle manual transmissions - I couldn't shift gears. We were in a real situation though. I don't know if Jimi had popped some pills or what, but he was fading out and we needed to keep going. A plan was devised after some discussion. Jimi would have the truck moving at around 60 miles-an-hour in 4th gear, and he would lean way forward. I would slide over, grab the wheel, put my foot on the gas and he would slide to the passenger side. I knew enough to stop the truck, so as long as I didn't have to shift gears we were okay. There was one scary wobble, but it worked. Within minutes of taking the wheel, I looked over and Jimi was out. As we used to say back then, he had crashed.

So there I was, behind the wheel of a large rental truck full of electronic equipment for the military, bombing along across the Southwest, and I was stoned. It certainly symbolized something about our chances of winning in Vietnam. It was also irresponsible, and that definitely symbolized how life could be back then.

This part of the journey went on for two days. We crashed in a motel somewhere, and started off the next morning. It was all about getting down the road, and the switch where I would take the wheel became routine. I would tell him when we needed to stop for gas, and he would take the wheel back and do all the gear shifting. Then out on the freeway, we would switch again. Frankly, after riding all that way around America in the passenger seat, I enjoyed driving the truck - even if I didn't know how.

Jimi spent the bulk of the trip resting comfortably, occasionally popping a pill, or sharing a joint. We would have made Dr. Hunter S. Thompson proud. Incidentally, parts of Texas were so flat that I imagined the cows sticking out from the side of the planet. There was much conversation and many laughs.

By now I had learned how to push in the clutch to help slow down, and I was changing lanes and feeling pretty confident. I drove hundreds of miles without ever shifting a single gear, and this was how it would stay till the night we got to Oklahoma City.

First, let's get the obvious image out of the way, and believe me, I thought of it, too, years later when the bombing happened there. We were driving a big yellow Ryder truck like the one Timothy McVeigh drove. Maybe the point of that little historical coincidence, is to remind us that these were different times. 1972 was a very serious year because of Vietnam, but with all that's happened since, it seems almost innocent now.

Anyway, it was dark, and I was hauling along, just trying to get through Oklahoma City. All of a sudden there was a construction project dead ahead, and the freeway went to one lane. I yelled to Jimi who was out of it, but there wasn't time to switch back. I decided we had to bail out. When he finally woke up, we were rocketing up an exit ramp, and I was just trying to get the truck stopped. We came to a halt at a stop sign, and this is where I would have given Jimi the wheel back. Unfortunately, we couldn't make the switch.

Sitting right there was a squad car, and the cop was looking right at me. It was time to learn to drive a stick shift - and I mean fast. Jimi really was as cool as Hendrix, but I could tell he was rattled now. This was the scenario he had imagined: Getting busted - a black man with drugs in Oklahoma. He hurriedly described what to do. I pushed in the clutch, keeping my foot on the break so the giant truck didn't start rolling backward. He put the stick into first gear, and said, "Okay, let out the clutch nice and slow."

The truck began rolling forward, then the trouble started. We did the inevitable first time move where the truck shudders and almost stalls, jumping ahead in violent starts so you could hear the load in the back moving around - all this with a cop staring right at us. But then it started rolling smoothly, and we were in first gear. Now, the real question: Would the cop respond to this display of screwed-up driving? We rolled by him and he just stayed there. Whew!!!

We didn't bother trying another gear change, we just kept it in first till we could pull over and he could take the wheel. We were a little freaked out, but we were going to be okay. I always thought this was one of the big symbolic, close calls of the trip. At least, I thought that till I got to St. Louis.

How I Got My Groove Back

2007-03-23T07:32:00.000-07:00

I'm in a somewhat ridiculous position here - as if I need to tell you that. I've played in bands since I was 11, and you get used to it. I mean you need it. Let me use the slot analogy developed over years of analyzing life and lives. There are around 10 or 15 major slots in a life, that decrease in importance as you go down the list, and the problem is when one of them is empty. When this happens everything moves up and takes the wrong place on the list. That's when you get your blues or worse yet, a stagnant feeling like your life is missing the magic.

For example there's the slot of "What is your core identity - what do you need to be you?" I think a lot of problems in our society come from people putting their jobs in that slot. You might see it after they retire and seem lost. Then there's "Who means the most to you - who do you love?" Sadly some people have lost someone in that slot so everything moves up. Often the love of a religious figure takes the place of a missing loved one, and that works. People stay in balance and carry on. Sometimes it's a pet, but when that slot gets filled with something like a job or a drug or gambling, watch out.

In many ways, Bush and Cheney just seem to have the wrong things in the slot called, "What does it take for you to get your groove on?" For some people it might be stamp collecting or painting a mural. For them it's launching an unnecessary war. When Dick Cheney no longer is allowed to make decisions that crush other people's lives, he is going to be miserable. In fact, he is miserable right now because he has "Power trips" in the "What I Love" slot and it ain't working for him. It's hurt his heart.

That's what this is about. Keeping as many aspects of your life as the right choices in the right slot. It's key to your health. So what do you do when you've played in bands all your life and your band seems to have disintegrated? You take a few months to mope about it, (November and December), and then you start noticing life going a little stale. Everything moves up and for me that meant comedy writing was in the band slot.

This was trouble. For me writing comedy is a profession. It's a quirky thing that I can do, but if it moves into the wrong slot, I become less good at it. Now, I'm never going to have writer's block or anything dramatic like that. I've been given a weird gift and the stuff pours out as fast as I can type. That's how I can write dozens of marketable jokes in an hour or two every day allowing me to be free, but if there is no music happening, it becomes tedious and irritating.

Right now my brother and I are kicking around the idea of doing a documentary and I realized I needed an acoustic to make it happen. I blew out my wrist playing bass so I only play electrics, but I found one of these new high-quality acoustics so I can handle it. I still have the foot-playing tambourine skills so suddenly, I was in range of a one-man act. Now, the reason I never did this before is that I am not a lead singer, or at least it doesn't sound like I am. But these are desperate times, and frankly, I don't care about that anymore. I can't afford to worry about the audience's needs - sorry, but this is about my needs.

So the other night I took it to the stage and played for a loud noisy bar. I went off for about an hour and 15 minutes straight. It was high energy complete with songs by the Clash, and 2 or 3 that I made up on the spot. I also played my song, "Let's Leave Iraq" which has been on cable access maybe 50 times - but not like this. Oh well. At least I can generate a serious groove and that's enough to keep them from requesting that you stop. One funny moment was noticing there was still a tag hanging down from the top of the new guitar while I was playing. Whoops. Nothing like showing the crowd that you've just been doing this for a few days.

When I came home I was better. My wife hated the cigarette smell on my clothes, but what was the napalm line from the movie? It smelled like victory. Everything held together although when I reached down to pick up my radio later, I got a huge cramp in my rib cage. Ouch.

The next morning comedy writing was back in its proper slot and I wrote a statement joke that was on national TV last night: "I love it when the pundits say this fired attorney story could lead to a Constitutional crisis. Please! We haven't used the Constitution in years." I also had another one on about Spring Break and the jokes for the radio network wrote themselves. Everything was back in its proper ridiculous balance in my life so thing's flowed. I should be okay for a while.

My only concern now is running into someone who was in that bar and having them ask, "What was that all about?"

UFOs: France and the Phoenix Lights

2007-03-22T23:15:00.000-07:00

Readers of the Portland Freelancer know I'm deep into the UFO subject, so if that puts me in whack job country, forgive me, unless you're a Republican Bush supporter, in which case you're already there. I resist using this blog to hammer you with UFO stories but since France has taken the bold, courageous step to release its UFO files, I think I'll use this occasion to bring up one recent development that also caught my eye:

Ten years ago when the Phoenix Lights incident occurred the part of the story that so many missed was the earlier sightings that night of huge triangular craft making their way silently across Arizona for something like a half hour. There were literally hundreds of witnesses. The one interview I saw that stuck with me was with a suburban family. The father was saying how low one of the craft was when it went over and the kid said they could have hit it with a tennis ball.

Later, what turned out to be flares dropped from National Guard planes went on to be called the Phoenix Lights. The unidentified craft went over at around 8:30 and the flares happened at 10. Suspicions in the UFO community involved dropping the flares to come up with a cover story for the other sightings.

Everyone was in an uproar and Governor Fife Symington called a press conference to say an investigation was underway. Later, before the press, he announced that the culprit had been captured, then his chief of staff walked in wearing an alien costume. It got a nice laugh, and I'm sure UFO skeptics enjoyed it immensely.

Well, it's been ten years, and Fife is out of office, and guess what he's saying now? He, himself, was one of the many people who saw the huge triangular craft early in the evening, so if you want to suggest that no officials ever admit to seeing these things - outside of Ronald Reagan, that is - remember the Governor of Arizona saw a huge triangular craft flying over his state and he had no idea what it was or what to do.

Of the craft he now says: "It was enormous and inexplicable. Who knows where it came from? A lot of people saw it, and I saw it too."

Former Arizona Governor Now Admits Seeing UFO-UFO Casebook Files

Richard Engel: Another Screenplay Lost

2007-03-22T08:37:00.000-07:00

I was listening to an interview with Richard Engel, the amazing NBC reporter who's been covering Iraq for years, and my first thought was, "Well, there goes another screenplay down the drain." Especially when the interviewer said, "You just decided to move to Cairo and ended up a big-time journalist? Nobody does that."

See, my brother and I wrote a script about his days in the international journalism business called, "Covering It." His career began when his girlfriend at the time went from Minnesota to study in Cairo. He followed her there with minimal funds, eventually landing a video news job with a British company called Visnews. Richard Engel also got his start when he went to Cairo as a freelancer taking only 2 grand with him.

My brother eventually moved up, roaming the world including a stint in Baghdad prior to the Gulf War. Richard snuck into Iraq prior to this war with 20 grand taped to his leg, and began freelancing for ABC. My brother's company of Visnews was eventually gobbled up by Reuters with some connection with NBC. Richard Engel started working for NBC, too, bringing some of the most compelling coverage of the war to the NBC Nightly News.

It seems like just yesterday that my Mom called up and said to watch David on the NBC Nightly News. I asked what he was doing and she said, "He's running from the South African police and they are trying to trip him." Sure enough, he showed up running with a TV camera in tow across a square in the days before Nelson Mandela was released from prison. There were police chasing him, and trying to trip him. He made it safely to a huge crowd of protesters.

It was one of the more powerful shots ever of the risks of being a video journalist. In fact, it was included in a CNN Special called, "Dying to Tell the Story" and since the shot was used in the promo, it was on TV around the world dozens of times.

Of course, Richard has us on the dramatic, horrible war footage, having spent the last 4 years in Iraq. He mentioned that so far, 3 of his hotel rooms have been damaged badly by the violence. Then, they transferred him to Lebanon just before war broke out there last summer. He has a shot of a bullet coming into his room. My brother's "bullet in the hotel room" story was in Afghanistan. But David has some ridiculously scary footage from a hotel lobby in Thailand that shows live gunfire and ends with soldiers coming in and beating the people with rifle butts.

Richard also has us by filming a video dairy which was turned into a special on MSNBC last night. He had a little camera and filmed his own personal observations as well as the gruesome stuff you can't see on TV because if the American public saw it, they'd be even more against the war. The TV special last night did show one guy yelling at the camera as he held up someone's severed hand.

Sadly, Engel's piece also documented the breakup of his marriage while all this went on. It's no surprise, really. He became more and more isolated during this exposure to the horrors of war, and that's one of the things that happens. My brother called me after seeing a car bombing in Kurdistan one time and frankly, I worried that his head had been cooked. It's tough when you have to rush to see the horrible things and video-tape them. Another time my brother was video-taping a suffering child near Mt. Pinatuba in the Philippines and the child died while he was filming. So this is a brutal business, and the number of these journalists who've been killed is staggering.

Fortunately, my brother's wife went along on the journey and they had kids in Cairo, London, South Africa, and the Philippines. There were extraordinary scenes from so many countreis, all tucked neatly into the screeplay: Talking with Mother Theresa in Egypt, or sitting in a garden in South Africa with Nelson Mandela the day after his release from prison. There were also bad scenes for David like missing his daughter's graduation because he was being detained by the Chinese police.

However so much of the story is the same: The incredible bonds with your workers from the local population. The hassles and dangers of getting the story and then getting it out so the whole world can watch. Incidentally, some of David's colleagues are still mentioned in the news. He flew into Bagdhad with Mo Amin and John Simpson. I just saw John Simpson on the BBC website and the late Mo Amin is still remembered as the legendary photo journalist who broke the Ethiopian famine story back in the "We Are the World" days.

Of course, one way we've got Richard Engel's script - if he ever writes one - is that he still needs a happy ending. Fortunately, for David and his worrying family, he got out after the hand-over of Hong Kong and is now chilling in Minnesota. It's funny. I still remember the time my Mom had enough and called Reuters Television in London to check on David's safety in Iraq. Those were exciting times, but I'm glad they're over.

The screenplay, "Covering It" is still pretty great, but it would have been a very expensive movie with lots of location shots. Richard Engel has us on that, too. Ever notice how every place in Iraq looks the same? Oh well, it's not going to happen now. Nope, if anything you'll be seeing the Richard Engel story. Now there's an idea for a screenplay. Of course, if he's waiting for the war in Iraq to stop, he might not get a happy ending for a long, long time.

John Canzano: A Quiet Day in the Oregonian

2007-03-21T14:23:00.000-07:00

Today was the first day that I truly understood how much trouble the Oregonian is in. No, it wasn't the memo from the editor, or the many stories about declining newspaper circulation. It was the fact that their main sports columnist, John Canzano, wrote a column that was - to my eyes - factually erroneous to such an extent that I thought there would be a big uproar. There wasn't. This thing came and went and nobody even noticed. What if a tree is cut down in the woods to make a newspaper, but nobody cares? Is there even a sound when it falls?

Here's the first part of the piece called, "For Blazers: Who to draft and who to do the drafting?":

"The best-kept secret in the franchise might be that the Portland Trail Blazers went through their entire NBA predraft process a year ago, held discussions, watched film, scouted games, handed out psychological tests, evaluated workouts, gathered reports and decided they absolutely had to have . . . Adam Morrison. True story. The Blazers' top scout was sold on Morrison -- lock, stock and mustache. Fans were lobbying for Morrison. Then, according to a source who was in the draft room, assistant general manager Kevin Pritchard, who was told "this is your draft," by owner Paul Allen, decided to pick Brandon Roy. "It's the kind of move that gets you fired if you're wrong," an insider said. This is why the Blazers made the draft-day moves to secure Roy, which only proves that these draft-evaluation things can be a blend of art, science and gut."

The only problem is that this "True story" and "best-kept secret" is false. We didn't take Brandon Roy instead of Adam Morrison. We took LaMarcus Aldridge instead of Adam Morrison. We could have taken both Morrison and Roy. So this whole thing with insider quotes about how the move could get someone fired doesn't make sense, because the piece is talking about the wrong man.

Okay, I'll drop it. I mean, I've written a few columns in my life that contained errors. Not this big, but they were big enough so that I heard about them the next day. I wrote a joke one time that caused Jay Leno to apologize on national TV. This is not about being perfect.

What got me though was the response. Nobody seemed to react. The big trees came crashing down to make the newspaper to print the story, but the only sound in the woods was crickets. Nobody cared.

George W. Bush: Trying to be the Lion King

2007-03-21T07:37:00.000-07:00

The statue of Lady Justice (or the Goddess of Justice if you prefer), sure looks different these days. The blindfold was intended to mean justice was impartial. Now it just seems like she's afraid to look.

Thom Hartmann had some interesting information on Air America this morning. If Congressional subpoenas of Karl Rove or others in the Bush White House are ignored, the next step is to hold Karl and his fellow creeps in contempt of Congress. After that, the matter lands in the lap of the federal prosecutor of Washington, D.C., a man named Jeff Taylor, who was appointed by Gonzales 6 months ago without Senate confirmation.

Oh, and before that he was Gonzales's assistant and going farther back, helped to write the Patriot Act. So the misuse of the Justice Department involves someone who got his job using the provision inserted into the Patriot Act that facilitated the abuse. And he helped write the original Patriot Act. It's perfect. Cue the Elton John music. This is the Washington, D.C. version of the Circle of Life.

Now to be fair, the former prosecutor was not fired - he was promoted making room for Gonzales's buddy, so now the prosecutor who must decide if the case moves forward - assuming it gets to the contempt of Congress stage, is in a terrific position to prove why appointing prosecutors without Senate confirmation is such a dangerous idea.

So sing with me, children! This one goes out to our attorney general and George W. Bush, the little lost cub who became the Lion King!

"From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round

It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life"

Frankly, I'm glad Lady Justice now symbolizes something new. For a while there, the blindfold reminded me too much of one of President Bush's torture victims.

Bush Caught With Hand In Constitutional Cookie Jar

2007-03-20T17:42:00.000-07:00

While the pundits of cable news bury themselves in the particulars of the fired attorney story, let's not forget what really happened here. The problem with President Bush is that he sees himself as the Decider, the living law of the land. Legislation passed by Congress? Mere suggestions that he'll follow if he feels like it. That's what all the signing statements are about. This has always been an executive power grab, for total authoritarian rule.

One law Bush feels like following is the War Powers Act. It grants him special powers if there's a war on. No problem. We'll have a War on Terror that will not end in our lifetimes. They'll always be a war so he'll have permanent special powers. Taken to the fullest extent, his interpretation of presidential powers during wartime means that all he has to do is declare someone a national security threat, and he can arrest them, detain them forever, and execute them without ever leaving the executive branch. That's his theory anyway, and yes, it is scary. You know how these attorneys serve at the pleasure of the President? Well, the real story is that we now live at the pleasure of the President.

Of course, his inexplicable fans rush to say that he would never take advantage of these powers - just trust him - but the whole point of America was that we didn't leave that to the people in charge to decide. We checked their powers so they couldn't act as tyrants - not legally anyway. President Bush wanted to destroy that. He wanted it all. So we have been living in post-Constitutional limbo here. If he wanted to right now he could declare any of us an enemy of the state and nab us on national security grounds, just as a king or dictator could. That's the problem.

We don't have time to go into what this all-powerful authoritarian ruler means to international law, but think "preemptive strike" and you'll get the picture. Nor am I going to explore the weird religious angle in which God speaks to George telling him what to do. Clearly, the real God would have included a better plan for Iraq (like stay out), but we have a leader who thinks the voices in his head are God, and that God put him in charge. The effect is that George W. Bush is God's representative on earth, a standard position for psycho leaders throughout history.

But let's focus on this attorney thing. The problem was that the Patriot Act changed the way these fired attorneys could be replaced. It eliminated the role of the Senate in confirming them giving total power in this matter to the executive branch. That led to the shenanigans because suddenly Gonzales could use the Justice Department as a weapon, knowing the sole hiring function was now in Bush's hands. If someone was investigating the wrong person - fire them and replace them in the dead of night.

Surprise! It turned out the people in charge couldn't be trusted not to take advantage of unchecked power - just as the Forefathers understood. You'll hear the details of these individual cases, but the problem all stems from unchecked power - in this case from a provision inserted into the Patriot Act.

The results were predictable. Gonzales was the obediant White House lap dog who gave birth to a new litter. The end result would have been a pack of prosecutorial pit bulls doing the bidding of their White House master, with Gonzales as the proud bitch waiting to go back into heat and do it all again.

Today there was a historic vote. It represents the beginning of a dismantling of Bush's attempt to overthrow the Constitution. The Senate voted 94 to 2 to seize back this power and take the provision out of the Patriot Act. That's quite a lopsided vote, don't you think? It's almost like people in Washington are beginning to get it, isn't it? That's what this story is about. President Bush got caught with his hand in the Constitutional cookie jar.
Senate Limits Gonzales' Hiring Authority

Blog Comments in the Wild West

2007-03-20T08:14:00.000-07:00

We're in the early days of blogging, and it's a wild time. It's the old West except the wilderness land of the Internet expands forever. In rock and roll terms, blogging is still in the 1950s, exploding into the culture and reinventing media the way Chuck Berry, Little Richard and Elvis changed the music business. Take the recent anti-war march. Bloggers had coverage of it with pictures almost instantly, but so did the Oregonian. It put lots of its pictures on the Internet, too. That's profound when you think about it. The Oregonian, a print newspaper, was forced to compete in the instantaneous world of the blogs or just seem irrelevant.

So what's the end result? Instead of three or four pictures in the print version the next day, we got to look at dozens of the Oregonian's pictures for free. Coupled with the blog sites who were on the case, we were given a much fuller version of events. It was like being able to watch the local TV station's raw footage, instead of just the clips of the small group of arrests among the thousands of marchers. What we saw on local network TV screens was such a distorted view of what happened.

Incidentally, I'm putting the actual march on my cable access show the next couple of weeks, so you'll see what it really looked like. The more information to choose from the better, which is why the blogging world is so exciting right now.

That's the good news. Now for the dark side. These comments can be very feisty and downright insulting - and that's one thing. But every now and then someone threatens physical violence against another participant in the blogging world, or perhaps against one of our leaders. I find myself wondering what kind of legal position that puts the blogger in. I mean a newspaper wouldn't print a threat or they could be sued. I know various blogger comment cases are already underway around the world, including one to decide if the blogger is liable if a comment includes or links to copyrighted material. Does the blogger become liable for physical threats in a comment?

No matter how diligent the blogger is, there is a window in which the threat will be there for all to see. Even if the blogger is on the case and sees it in 5 minutes, that's 5 minutes. And what if the blogger doesn't see it for hours or days? Is the blogger liable for providing a place where one person threatened another, the way a business owner would be if two employees got into it and nothing was done?

All this is yet to be worked out, and I think the key thing is to enjoy the revolutionary aspects of this while they are still with us. It won't be long before we lose some of the freedoms we are currently experiencing because we'll have to. It won't be the government or the legal system that screws this up. Sure, they'll be doing it too, on some other level. But I'm just talking about the chill that will follow when the first blog comment leads to the first real life incident and the first blog host gets sued. We can talk all we want about losing our liberties to the Patriot Act, etc...but it will be ordinary people who've been given a place to vent, and use it to threaten others, who ultimately impinge on our freedom in the blogging world. It will be the People who screw this up.

For now, welcome to the Wild West. Chuck Berry's playing in the local saloon and the fresh winds of freedom are blowing through the blog world. How long before we are saying, "You should have seen it in the good old days"?

The Iraq War: I Think I Finally Get It

2007-03-19T05:47:00.000-07:00

Could it be that my brain has been deceiving me? Call it a protective filter of denial, but there's some level of my conscious thought that still doesn't believe any of this is really happening. That's what these years seem like. They are so much like a nightmare that I'm running with it.

Somewhere in this cavernous skull of mine, a message keeps going out not to be too upset. It's a whisper that argues persistently, saying, "If it's this much like a nightmare, maybe it really is a nightmare. You never know." Hey, you can't fault the brain for trying to lessen the anxiety level. The whispers continue, "Just go on sleeping and eventually you will wake up and the Iraq War will be over. You'll kick yourself and laugh at how upset you were, when it was only a bad dream." A bad dream that's now lasted 4 years.

The Anti-War March yesterday was a deeply sobering and sad occasion. I filmed the marchers walking by and it took something like 46 minutes - 46 minutes of banners and signs and all types of people, and in the end, I couldn't pretend anymore. Not in the darkest recesses of my head could there be any doubt. The Iraq War is very real - a living breathing nightmare that seems to become more tragic by the second.

I've seen Portland for years including during many protests when I was working at a hotel downtown. It was downright unsettling to see this many people winding through the streets. It seemed extremely dire, as if I was watching a funeral procession - an angry, sad funeral procession. Even the light hopeful moments were drenched in the overwhelming knowledge that something horrible is happening and we can't seem to make it stop. There is no alarm clock that will snap us out of this.

By around 4 o'clock yesterday, I think I got what this is really all about. I felt it. This is about the State's ability to kill someone - a citizen who hasn't done anything to anyone else. Not just to ask politely to kill them, but to entice them into a situation with all manner of noble talk, to deceive them as to the real reasons why, and then to turn around and get them brutally killed. And if along the way they become onto it, to keep sending them back over and over again, as virtually permanent government wards who can't go home. That's what we have here right now. That's the nightmare we're living in.

Yes, we all know there are extreme circumstances when young people are called upon to defend our country. We all know that. But what is it when the State tells them that's what they are doing, and then sends them to die unnecessarily in something else? That has to be a crime, doesn't it? I mean what's manslaughter? What's murder? Is the State so big and powerful that it can do things that would be crimes for anyone else?

No, or at least it shouldn't be, which means we are living in a time when the United States government's leaders are criminals. They shouldn't be allowed to take a 19-year-old boy and blow his limbs off and then let him die on the side of the road in a place that wasn't threatening us.

Of course they said it was threatening us, because they had to say that. This should only happen when our country is being threatened, so that is what they said. Don't you see this as the proof? The State can only be allowed to do this if it is a matter of national security - defending the country. That's the threshold that makes this behavior not a crime. Self defense is not a crime. This was not self defense.

What was their point? That if we didn't respond, these same streets this march went down in Portland could have been taken by the Iraqi Republican Guard? It was ridiculous when they first said it, but it just seems tragic now. It is obvious that it was a marketing job - it was not the truth. The State lied and took some of our young people and killed them. That cannot be legal.

What worries me most are the millions of people out there who are okay with it. They see something about their lives as being so important that a certain percentage of the lesser ones should be asked to die for an errand. For a mere whim. If the leaders just feel that it's a good idea that could lead to a beneficial result, than that is enough to kill a young person.

What I realized yesterday is that it isn't enough. Oh, I knew it already, but it came into greater focus. First, the idea behind America is that there are no lesser ones. And the State doesn't exist as something so great that it can ask someone to die carrying out some mere agenda. It has to be absolutely necessary. It has to be a matter of life and death already. Iraq wasn't. The President has sent young people to die for a vision, a hunch.

Who cares if it was about oil or what it was about? It wasn't about defending America from an actual attack - there was none from Iraq - so the reasons we did this are not good enough. You can't kill young people over something like this. In fact, what our leaders have done is a crime. Sure, it feels like a nightmare, but in the final analysis, it's a crime.

Sights from the Anti-War March, 3-18-07

2007-03-18T21:16:00.000-07:00

Here's some images from the march downtown today. It was quite an occasion exactly 4 years into the Iraq War. Let's not make it five.

Trump and Rosie: A Political Marriage Made in Heaven

2007-03-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

Of all the ridiculous celebrity spats this past year none was more pathetic and transparent than Rosie versus the Donald. Let's start with what it was about: Miss USA going to rehab and getting a second chance. Anytime there is a beauty pageant involved you're already in the superficial zone, but then the insults began. In an obvious attempt at ratings on both sides, Rosie mocked Donald's hair and Donald called Rosie disgusting. It was clear they would only really make up if Rosie got Donald in a jail cell with the right strap-on device. Okay, that was unnecessary, but so was the entire feud.

Actually, there were a couple of interesting insights. First, I thought it was revealing how Donald kept saying Rosie hadn't accomplished anything - that she was a failure. In Donald's world just making millions as a standup doesn't count. I guess you have to be a billionaire to make it now. Then there was Rosie, defending the less attractive contestants on American Idol for the cruel things that were being said about them, then launching into an attack on Trump's appearance. So which is it? Is it okay to make fun of someone's looks? Personally, I think Donald Trump's haircut is fine and I hope it lands its own show on Animal Planet someday.

So this was all heading towards a giant waste of time: Celebrities using their position in society to be pointless, right? Wrong. In the last week, Donald has said that President Bush is probably the worst president in the history of the United States, and that's helpful. This gigantic machine that keeps reinforcing the manufactured fake image of this pathetic leader must be stopped. President Bush is a mediocre, dangerous loser and the sooner his supporters get it, the better. Listen to the Donald, people.

Now we come to one of my pet topics: 9/11. Rosie is now part of the movement questioning the obvious problems in the official story. I really believe this will catch on more as people get a chance to think about it without as much emotions as right after it happened. This thing is hiding in plain sight and any time a celebrity like Rosie comes onboard it's a welcome thing for the 9/11 Truth movement.

Incidentally, that's why the Portland Freelancer is supporting Rudy Guiliani for the Republican nomination. I believe his candidacy would shed more light on this topic and could blow the lid off this dark conspiracy once and for all. The timing of those terrorist confessions last week was interesting. Why now? A desperate attempt to keep the light focused elsewhere?

This brings me to my final point: I wonder what Donald thinks about 9/11? Of the two celebrities, Rosie has figured it out, and yet Donald's the one with expertise about buildings. I wonder what he thinks about the way Building 7 came down? Will someone please ask Donald Trump about this? Perhaps this is the issue that could unite Rosie and the Donald - stranger things have happened...but not many.

If that does occur and a Rosie-Trump alliance leads to the truth about these last few years - about the Neo-Con plot to take over the world using a false flag operation to create a new Pearl Harbor - then think about it. We would owe it all to a partying beauty pageant contestant who kicked the feud off. Okay, maybe not, but let's run her picture anyway. Just in case.

10,000 Gather For Obama Rally

2007-03-17T20:22:00.000-07:00

The Portland Freelancer's early pick for Obama to win the Democratic nomination and then the presidency, is based on the Elvis factor - what happens when the American People take to someone. The crowd of 10,000 that gathered in Oakland this weekend to see him, is significant. You don't get that many unless there's something very charismatic happening.

It's much more than this racist talk of him being articulate. When Barack speaks - unlike with Al and Hillary - you don't have the cringe factor. I have met Al and Hillary. Al can be so boring it makes the paint crack. Hillary is not dull but she had better reign in her ambition a little and start sounding like a better candidate or this thing will be over by the summer. Her phony southern accent last week was an embarrassment and it sent the cringe meter into earth orbit.

When Obama addresses a crowd there is an air of greatness, like you're watching footage from another era in politics. Of course, W. - who, like Hillary, also breaks out a phony accent on the campaign trail - has lowered the bar so far that it might be hovering somewhere between the planet's crust and the mantle. People are ready for greatness again. We have to listen to these leaders every day - why not make it inspirational and fun?

The only fun part of a W. speech is waiting for him to screw up. His act is old and pathetic - especially since he's disgraced the country so badly. People want to like their leaders, not feel ashamed of them. The Dixie Chicks were way too kind just saying W. was an embarrassment. Don't you want to send an American leader to other countries that will wow them and make them wonder why they can't have a leader that together? It's time we excelled again and it all starts with a connection between the People and the personality.

I think America is beginning to take to Obama and it's going to be very obvious very soon. This is a star. This is Elvis. The Portland Freelancer has spoken.
Obama draws 10,000 to Oakland rally | The Huffington Post

Memo to the GOP Spin Team: The Babe Just Kicked Your Ass

2007-03-16T19:04:00.000-07:00

I knew the way they would play this one - I swear if I just got rid of all my morals, I could write for the Republican spin machine. For example, I sensed the Valerie Plame slant today would concentrate on her undeniable babe-like qualities. Drudge went with a cute little headline about how she was ready for her close-up, showing a picture that might have been a beauty pageant contestant primping for a shot at Miss Congeniality.

Then the Babe came in and kicked them in the balls. This was a real FOX, not the phony news kind. The spin on this had been allowed to go unchecked for way too long, but today it was time for the Mary Matalin set to take a seat along the wall and check out the Homecoming Queen.

You remember Mary Matalin, don't you? She'd been calling Joe Wilson a lying bozo, even while she worked for Dick Cheney. Well, here was Joe Wilson's wife testifying that it was Mary, Cheney, and all their little buddies who've really been lying. Wait, what's the administration phrase for that? Oh yeah, "Who've been having hazy memories."

One thing was immediately obvious that shredded the GOP case in an instant: Bozos don't land women like this. It was obvious who was credible, and even more important in the spin world, it was clear who was cool. Who would you rather hang out with at a party? Scooter Libby or Valerie Plame? When Valerie finished, the GOP talking points looked like a little pile of torn up cheerleading pompoms on the floor.

One talking point was that Valerie had been behind her husband's trip to Africa. This was a classic tactic by the family values, chicken-hawks to make Joe seem like a henpecked "girlie man" as Arnold loves to say. The only problem was that according to Valerie, it is not true. Oh, by the way, girlie men don't land women like this, either.

Next was the idea that she was not really a covert agent. Not only did Valerie say that she was and only a handful of people knew it at the time, she also said that whole networks of contacts and agents were lost because of the outing of her identity by members of the Bush administration. This made sense. In fact, even if she had retired the knowledge that she used to do this work puts her colleagues who haven't retired in extreme peril.

When spies are exposed, the results usually include lethal termination, and if Valerie's testimony is true, people who put their lives on the line for the United States were probably killed. Fortunately, for the GOP the real damage is classified to prevent more intelligence assets from being lost.

Now, from this testimony yesterday, does it sound like she was retired?

"In the run-up to the war with Iraq, I worked in the counter-proliferation division of the CIA, still as a covert official, whose affiliation with the CIA was classified." She worked on, "solid intelligence for senior policy makers on Iraq's presumed WMD programs. I also traveled to foreign countries on secret missions to find vital intelligence. I loved my career because I loved my country."

She was repeatedly and specifically asked if she had been on overseas CIA missions within the last 5 years - the statutory definition of covert. She said she had and a top CIA official backed her up.

That takes the magnitude of what happened here back to the original level of outrage, before the GOP spin machine played it down all these years. If she is to be believed, she risked her life for America. And the reason the Bush people would go to the extent of risking other people's lives? To keep the lid on their little box full of BS they were using to get us into Iraq.

It really is amazing how spin works. It dulls the truth so that when it finally comes out, it seems less serious. Yet, when you really ponder the damage these scoundrels did to the United States of America, this was a gigantic crime.

Are all potential assets in the future, going to worry that some political creeps in the White House might expose them if it suits their political agenda? This could have long-term implications for our national security.

Yes, Valerie says it destroyed her career and made her fear for the safety of her family. All to try and get back at Joe Wilson for saying the intelligence on Iraq was cooked - which it was. But what about the future? Bush and Cheney have harmed our ability to gather intelligence from now on. They have hurt America for reasons that are criminal. What do you call that? Let me sum it up:

To try and prevent their treasonous reasons for going to war from becoming known, Bush and friends committed more treason by selling out our undercover people. Sounds like an awful lot of treachery when you look at the end results. Meanwhile, the GOP is howling about the Scooter conviction saying it is unwarranted, when if justice had prevailed, every major player in the White House and at least one at the State Department would be in prison or worse. In that sense the spin worked.

All this should have been the story, but there was something else: Who won the battle of public opinion today? In our celebrity world, who had the star power? The politicians who lied us into a war, or the super-cool, beautiful agent? This was a bunch of bumbling losers versus one of those women in a James Bond film. You tell me.

I have to give the right wingers credit - they were correct about that: Valerie Plame is a total babe. It's tough to imagine that Ann Coulter is even from the same species.

Lisa Molinaro: Looking Good on 39th

2007-03-16T16:30:00.000-07:00

If you thought Portland's Hip Quotient was soaring today, I've got the reason why. All right, the Spring-like weather didn't hurt, but I can also report that the Coolest Woman in Portland is once more back with us. I was driving to edit my cable access show, "Born to Slack" when Lisa Molinaro drove by on her bicycle giving me a nice smile and wave. She looked lovely as always - apparently touring with the Decemberists agrees with her. I am so proud of this person, and it was great to see an actual working musician kicking back and enjoying the sunny weather on a well-deserved break.

I was in a hurry or I would have pulled over to chat. See, my cable access show just hit its 150th episode and this is no time to stop the momentum. (Just play along.) Seriously, there is an Emmy on the line here.

Afterwards, I went by the Zupan's on Belmont and the cashier buddy said she had seen Sam Elliot in the store. I had to confess I wasn't sure of who he was, but I looked him up later and he played Cher's biker boyfriend in "The Mask". Temporarily seeming out of it in front of the Zupan cashier, I immediately went with my Decemberist sighting, and came off as slightly less clueless than usual.

I love this city. Yes, there is some bad stuff that happens here. I was at the light right outside the store where the guy had been shot in the robbery. The store is painted in a fun Portland mural type way. What did it say, "From Apples to...." some kind of wine. The painting seemed to be more true to what this town is about than the horrible crime that happened inside. On days like today it's so obvious that Portland rules. Plus, it just got a lot cooler now that Lisa's here again, a touring musician with a national act, back in the neighborhood riding around on her bicycle and looking beautiful.

Have a Heart for Hawthorne

2007-03-16T13:04:00.000-07:00

Small businesses are not DVD players. You can't just hit the pause button and come back later. They are more like plants that must be tended to and watered or they will die. The construction work on Hawthorne is a threat to these businesses' chance of survival. It's that simple. The Tabor Hill Cafe, around 38th on the south side of the street, is a perfect example of what makes Portland great - the person running this business couldn't be nicer. He's not just a great person - he's also got a lot of depth as a human being. His wife's pregnant and he's working ungodly hours to keep things going.His business was already impacted by the recent work across the street that made it tough to cross over, and that went on for weeks. Now they're at his door. The first shot is from yesterday. The sign might say open but you literally couldn't get in until around 2 p.m. Today it looks like this. You can get in on a dirt path, but at first it doesn't appear like you can from the other side of the street, so business suffers. The Portland Freelancer is going to keep track of how long till this is back to normal. There were no workmen on the site this morning, but maybe they'll come back Monday.

Meanwhile, if you happen to be heading out for breakfast or lunch in the Hawthorne area, consider the Tabor Hill Cafe. Think of it as fighting City Hall and sticking up for the small business owners of America.

21.) The Hitchhiking Years: Homeward Bound

2007-03-15T21:37:00.000-07:00

So here's the situation. I had been out on the road for over a month all over the States when somewhere in Arizona, the trip changed. Maybe it was when the guy tried to run me over, but I don't think that was it. I had just reached the burnout stage. You know hitchhiking is completely different from getting in your own car and driving somewhere. There's much more suspense and thinking that goes into it. For one thing there's a theoretical chance that you will never get a ride again, and a lot of it is finding your way out of situations where you get stuck. Plus you are constantly on high alert dealing with a stream of people, many wonderful, but some not. Then there's the exposure to the elements. It was tiring hard work, and I was becoming worn down.

There are many books about wild road trips - demented jaunts that young people go on - but it's different when every mile is improvised. The incredible thing about my first long solo journey around America was that just as I started to get a little shaky mentally, the road chimed right in with a dramatic finish of its own.

It was as if the biggest themes of the times would all interact for one last statement, and life took on a symbolic tone. What was happening to me seemed to encapsulate what was happening to the country: There was the establishment with their war, and there was the counter-culture with its insanely reckless lifestyle. My last jaunt from Arizona back to Massachusetts would feature a giant collision between these two worlds, and it was something to behold.

The big yellow Ryder truck pulled over with a young black man behind the wheel. It was immediately obvious that this guy was great. I mean he was as cool as Jimi Hendrix, and looked a little like him, only more cheerful, handsome, and full of life. I'll call him Jimi just to make it easier.

There had been a contract for some serious electronic equipment for the US military, and the supplier had screwed it up. Jimi's company was contacted to do a rush order to provide the equipment, and Jimi had worked on it. He was very proud of his skills manufacturing the stuff - he talked a lot about how the military needed soldering iron work that was just so. That part was fine, but then when the order was done they had to rush it to St. Louis from California. If not exactly St. Louis, it was someplace near there - I remember that. The drag for him was that his boss was making him drive the rental truck and he was not into it at all. It was not his job.

I perked up. Here I was just trying to get home and I'm riding with a guy going that far? Plus he was great company - just really cool as if the ghost of Jimi Hendrix was out driving around. So this sounded like a terrific break, except for one minor inconvenience: My little appointment to register for the draft. It had to happen that day, but fate would play along. Jimi had already said that he had to stop in Albuquerque, New Mexico to do something, so that's how we left it. That's where I'd say goodbye and go sign up for Uncle Sam.

By the time we made it there, we were having a great time: Lots of laughs, lots of talk about music, drugs, women, and life. Just in case, we made an arrangement to remember which exit we took, and he said he would drive by there on the way out of town. If I was there, he would pick me back up again. So this was cool but my mood became increasingly tense as I was dreading registering for the draft. I had put it off for as long as possible, but there I was in downtown Albuquerque, heading in to sign up.

The man at the window was not impressed with me, my haircut, my backpack or anything at all. He certainly wasn't going for my story about being from Saudi Arabia. See, there was a draft board - or at least this is what I was told - for the children of Americans living overseas. I think it was called Draft Board 100. Diplomats' kids, etc...would be on it and there was no chance of getting selected. We did have at least one young man I knew from our little town who was killed in Vietnam, but he might have even enlisted or been drafted in the States. They could make you register where you were going to school, or at least try.

The beautiful thing about my situation was that I was out of school and I didn't know where I would be going to college. This old guy pressed me hard to come up with an address here in the States, but the fact was I was a resident of Dhahran, Saudi Arabia. Now I could have given the farm address in Massachusetts, but that would have been going out of my way to try and get myself killed and I wasn't going to do that. This was not my war.

The old man at the window got more and more agitated, checking my passport and grilling me on the school situation. "What do you mean you graduated early?" That kind of thing. It was exhausting, but I held my ground and when the form was complete it showed my true residence in Arabia. I don't know where these papers went but I never heard another thing about it again.

You might say, how can you be so critical of Dick Cheney when you yourself avoided the war in Vietnam? First, my complaint with Cheney is that he sent so many other young people to die in Iraq, when he himself got out of military service. I wouldn't do that. Second, I didn't get a deferment or anything - nobody else had to go in my place.

I admit I felt guilty about it still. I could have given the farm address and been a lot more available. However, as luck would have it, my year was the last where the draft lottery took place. My number was 69 - that's how much of a fighter I was. And here's the crucial point: Nobody was drafted from my year. By the time we made it to 19, that had stopped. So as usual, I had lucked out, and what little guilt I could have had if someone else was sent instead of me, was not founded on reality. I'm in the clear on this. Besides I was born and raised in Dhahran and that was my residence, so I didn't lie about anything. God, Vietnam sucked. Imagine growing up thinking you could be whisked away to die for that?

This process was exhausting, but I felt somewhat victorious as I left the office in downtown Albuquerque. The old guy had laid quite a head trip on me, but I didn't back down. I began walking and hitching to the same exit where I came in. I hadn't been there 15 minutes when the yellow truck rolled into view. The ghost of Jimi Hendrix was back, I had my ride to Missouri, and some true craziness was about to begin.

The Real Surge: The Election That Saved America

2007-03-15T14:51:00.000-07:00

All this hullabaloo with the attorneys general was never supposed to happen. Karl Rove and George Bush went into 2006 smug about their chances. They had done all the usual tricks and then some, including rigging the vote the way they had in Ohio in 2004 and Florida in 2000. Everything Karl Rove did from the moment 2004 was stolen, was spent concentrating on the results in 2006.

One of the ongoing goals was to rig the judicial system and ensure a Republican lock on power that would go on virtually forever. The plan was to seize control of the United States in a way that couldn't be overturned. The Constitution would become irrelevant as we slipped into the all-powerful executive who was the living breathing word of law. It was nothing short of abolishing our form of government, and it was well on the way to happening. Parts of it are still in place.

The problem for Bush and Rove was the surge. Not the one in Iraq - the one here. The Republicans tried to steal 2006 but the margin wasn't close enough. The cheating was swamped by angry voters. Miraculously, the balance of power was restored, and everything since then has been unplanned territory for these treachorous plotters. They are now winging it through their own falling wreckage.

That's where we are today, and every new rock that we look under, produces another slimy creature waiting to slither out. It's awesome really. The extent to which Karl Rove tried to game the system was downright mind-boggling. No advantage was too small to take. Every little issue in this country was checked over to see if it would help entrench Republican rule. And Rove had his nose in all of it.

That's the priceless part of the Libby trial for me - how journalists could even wonder if Rove was in the middle of the action. It's happening again with this justice department scandal. Rove is a man who has been running dirty tricks and exerting power in unsavory ways since he first slithered out from underneath a rock himself. He's been doing this since he was a zygote. The minute the doctor slapped him on the bottom, Rove started scheming to have the doctor fired. This is a shark-like creature here moving forward with a single purpose that is almost demonic.

The only reason Alberto Gonzales ever made it to the justice department is because Rove knew he was a 100% servant of the Bush White House. This wasn't some gifted choice who just happened to agree with what Rove wanted. He is a little lapdog eagerly awaiting his next orders from the boss. That's what this has come down to, and the idea was to bypass Senate confirmation using the Patriot Act and use the replacements as a whole new litter of lapdogs. Hey, I like that! Gonzales was going to be the little bitch who raised a new litter of White House lapdogs. (Eat your heart out, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson.)

Then the Bush team could go on using the mighty weight of the machinery of justice to crush opponents. Rove has a long history of doing this in Texas before he even emerged on the national stage.

So everything was in place. The grip on power was nearly complete, and things looked like a lock. But then November of 2006 came along and the country was saved - at least temporarily - from these wretched power-mad traitors. How else can you describe them? They tried to destroy the American form of government using criminal means. What more do you want? Do you think they've kept their oath to uphold the Constitution? Did you make so much money last year that you're ready to swallow that?

Incidentally, that was what the tax breaks were really for: Rove knew the upper class wouldn't complain about anything as long as they were doing well enough, and it worked. Their support was purchased with the money from future generations. It wasn't good for America, but this had nothing to do with the good of America. It was about buying rich people off and it worked.

In fact for Karl Rove, the entire plan was working right up to Election 2006. Then it all went south. From that point on Rove has been a drowning rat, swirling down the drain of his own sewer. You know what Karl Rove said to the official from New Mexico after he called the White House to complain about replacing the one attorney general: "He's gone." Well, fortunately, this crew will be gone one day, too. Maybe sooner than we thought.

I predict we'll realize two things as the years go forward. 1. That the scope of the power grab was much, much worse than even we had feared, and 2. That the election of 2006 was actually one of the more important events in American History. It might even have prevented American History from coming to a halt - replaced by a Neo-Con empire.

20.) The Hitchhiking Years: The Grand Canyon, Vietnam, and a Meteorite from Space

2007-03-15T08:20:00.000-07:00

I made it to the rhythm guitar player's house in Flagstaff and told him about nearly getting killed by the psycho in the Datsun pickup truck. Apparently there was a lot of tension in the city at that point between longhairs and the establishment, which made sense. It was 1972 and Vietnam had torn the country up. One of my lasting memories of these times was the evening news with Walter Chronkite reporting how many U.S. soldiers had died that day. Usually it was dozens.

To anyone who romanticizes about the 60s - and really, they lasted into the early 70s - I say go right ahead. But I remember the great parts as set against an overwhelming backdrop of depression. Vietnam was a wretched disaster, and it was incredibly frustrating knowing we, the youth of America, were right about it, and they, the establishment adults were wrong, even as they talked down to us and questioned our patriotism. And all the apologies that would come decades later didn't help a bit, just as they won't help when the right wing finally admits the truth about Iraq. Of course, today is more of a Red State-Blue State divide. Back then it was generational.

So I was in a perfect mood to step away from the foibles of human beings and ponder one of the most remarkable places on earth. It was time to visit the Grand Canyon. I camped out near the lodge and went in for breakfast in the morning, which led to a funny scene. There was this family there in the dining room: Mom, Dad, and the bored teenage girl. They thought it would help perk her up from the doldrums of her family vacation, if they invited someone her age to have breakfast with them. Incidentally, that was always my problem with girls back then. I was never one of those threatening types. I came off as a wholesome, innocent goody-goody much to my chagrin. I wanted to be someone the parents feared would get his grimy hands on their hot little daughter, but I couldn't get near that level of animal magnetism. This was where being in a rock band really saved me.

The lodge was interesting. This was a rare place in normal society where respectable people could be seen wearing backpacks as it was the Grand Canyon - and good people hiked. So, the parents thought I was some well-off vacationer staying at the lodge, and it was kind of funny watching their expression when I told them I had crashed right out near the parking lot. I had only gone into have breakfast because funds were low and I needed to put it on the card. This, along with the stories of hitchhiking around the country, seemed to convince the folks that maybe this wasn't the person they wanted talking to their sweet little girl after all.

I hiked down on the Bright Angel trail, and camped out at the bottom along the banks of the Colorado River. Of course, it's a little obnoxious when people don't stay in the designated areas, but you have to remember I was from an environment in Arabia where there was just a few little towns set in the desert. It was basically a wild place and one of the things about America that was hard to accept was that it had been more or less tamed. Much of it had been processed into little zones of this or that. My natural instinct was to skip the campgrounds, etc...and I hiked up the banks of the river where I was alone. In my heart I was an outsider and I slept better when nobody even knew I was there.

I'll never forget the feeling of seeing the moon come up over the Grand Canyon with the sounds of the river nearby. I left behind all the geo-political stuff that was dominating those times, and I connected directly with the land. It is so obvious why the indigenous peoples of America felt spirits in the land. When you are at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, you can practically hear it talking to you, and lying in my sleeping bag, I was in awe.

Incidentally, I had been nonchalant about the physical aspect of this hike. I was the big-time hitchhiker who walked miles every day - what's a little walk on some trail? So naturally, I became quite weak climbing back out. As luck would have it I remembered some packets of sugar in my pack and drained them, but it was not pretty getting out of that canyon the next morning.

In fact, I was close to the big tipping point where I was no longer a hitchhiking tourist. From here on out, it would just be a matter of going home. Before I got out of Arizona though, there would be one final stop - at a driver's suggestion - just to look at something. It was the Meteor Crater some 35 miles East of Flagstaff, where a visitor from space had dropped in making a nice impact zone 4,000 feet across. Arizona had been a series of zoom-outs from the human level, to the planetary level to space. We had landed on the moon 3 years before, and everything seemed so positive about our future in space exploration. I heard the astronauts had even come to train at this site. Things were literally looking up.

Yes, the horrors of Vietnam hung over everything, but one of the great parts back then was our space program, and if you had told me we'd only get this far by 2007, there would have been no way I would have believed you. But after checking out the crater, this was it. I was now in transit. No more stops to check out anything. I was officially on my way back home.

Oh wait. There was one last piece of business, and I only had a day or two left to get it done. I was 18 years plus nearly 30 days and it was time to register for the draft. Even looking at this crater, it was impossible to forget the topic: Vietnam even hung over outer space.

Fighting Gonzales One Joke at a Time

2007-03-14T23:35:00.000-07:00

It's interesting to see Alberto Gonzales acting so humble and polite. Where is the sniveling little rodent who appeared before Congress a few months back essentially to claim that laws were mere suggestions that King Bush would follow if he so desired. There was also that one convoluted take on rights in the Constitution. Remember that exchange?

GONZALES: The fact that the Constitution — again, there is no express grant of habeas in the Constitution. There is a prohibition against taking it away. But it’s never been the case, and I’m not a Supreme —

SPECTER: Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute. The constitution says you can’t take it away, except in the case of rebellion or invasion. Doesn’t that mean you have the right of habeas corpus, unless there is an invasion or rebellion?

GONZALES: I meant by that comment, the Constitution doesn’t say, “Every individual in the United States or every citizen is hereby granted or assured the right to habeas.” It doesn’t say that. It simply says the right of habeas corpus shall not be suspended except by —

SPECTER: You may be treading on your interdiction and violating common sense, Mr. Attorney General.

GONZALES: Um.

Sigh. So stupid and yet so dangerous. If Gonzales is teetering on the brink, rest assured that the Portland Freelancer is trying my best to help push him over. My joke last night suggested he was planning to move the Justice Department to Dubai.

It's time to turn on the old television and see if any of my jokes land in our national debate again tonight. Gonzales is the worst official in the long ugly history of the Bush administration especially if you don't count Bush, Cheney, Condi, Rumsfeld, and a few dozen others. Actually, this guy is especially creepy. Using the criminal justice system to go after political opponents, takes us right to the level of a corrupt third world dictatorship. Oh well, it only hurts when they don't laugh.

19.) The Hitchhiking Years: The 3 Angels of Arizona

2007-03-13T21:10:00.000-07:00

By the time I hitched across from the San Diego area into Arizona, I had been out on the road nearly a month. In fact, my 30-day window for signing up for the draft was rapidly winding down. That weighed on me. Plus, there were other forces coming into play. I was slowly burning out on the wandering hitchhiker bit and I began to look forward to going home for the summer.

It was simple really: I missed my family and friends. I missed my hometown. Besides, the road had been tiring and I guess I was just ready for the jet-set life style again. You know, my band had it made in Arabia. We had the beach and girls and rock and roll. It was all happening and it was an absolute blast. Hey, you can only pretend you're Jack Kerouac for so long.

Little did I know that it was about to get pretty amazing in Arizona as well. Indeed, I was about to head into the most action-packed time of the entire trip. First, I made it to Tucson where there was quite an enclave of Aramco students - maybe half a dozen of them. I remember being at a party there and feeling the tribal love from the kids I had grown up with. Most of my classmates in Dhahran had been attending each others little birthday parties since we were 4 years old. Americans living abroad can get very close, and a famous anthropologist once noted the uniqueness of our bond. So being in Tucson was almost like visiting my siblings. I experienced the same thing later in Phoenix and Tempe. I believe this was the trip when I stopped in at the Crockers, a classic Aramco family. Then it was time to head off to Flagstaff.

You never know when the dream ride will come along. She was the type of girl the Eagles wrote that song about: "It's a girl my lord, in a flat-bed Ford." Actually, it was a van, driven by a coed from the University of Arizona, and it wasn't Winslow, Arizona, either. She was heading up to see her parents in Flagstaff. You know, come to think of it, I doubt the Eagles had even written that song yet. Maybe their song would be about her younger sister.

Anyway, she looked at me with a mischievous smile and said, "Are you in a hurry or do you want to take the scenic route?" I'm not an idiot - I opted for the scenic route. She smiled again, so tan and healthy looking - a classic All-American girl. We drove to some kind of state park with a river and some cliffs. She wanted me to jump in with her, but I waited and she went ahead. When she got to the top of the cliffs, she took off all her clothes and did a swan dive, maybe 15 feet down. Before her body hit the water, I was in love with her. Incidentally, she told me quite a story later about the time she did this and a park ranger walked up with a tour group just as she dove in naked. What a girl. I had known her less than an hour and she had already taken off her clothes. This was a free spirit here, and I'll just say it turned into quite a day.

Now comes the silly part: When we finally got to Flagstaff that evening, I asked if I could go with her to her parents house and perhaps - you know - spend more time together. I was ready to sign on for life. She replied that her parents wouldn't appreciate that, and my ride was over. Oh well. I'm sure someday when I'm dying and my life flashes before my eyes, I'll still see her naked body flying through the sky over Arizona.

So it was back to the pavement. I was trying to locate the residence of the rhythm guitar player from the other rock band in Dhahran. It was night and I was walking on what I remember as Main Street although it was just an industrial area with some lower-class homes mixed in. The real main street of Flagstaff was a little thing they called Route 66. I was walking towards the traffic flow if there had been any cars, with an asphalt parking lot on my left. Across the street was a warehouse and right next to it was a little house with a yard and chicken wire fence. Everything seemed dark and deserted.

I had just passed a telephone pole when I began to get the feeling that the approaching headlights were aimed right at me. I looked up and this little pickup truck was angling off the road and accelerating right in my direction. I turned and started to run. I just barely made it to the telephone pole when the truck shot by, maybe 3 feet from my body. As soon as it had passed, I started running across the street towards the warehouse. The psycho driver made a wide screeching turn in the parking lot and was coming right at me again. I could hear the engine revving, and I could see my shadow as I ran. It was growing in size on the warehouse wall. The car was right behind me, closing in fast. By the way, I don't care if the finest Hollywood stunt people did the timing on this - it wouldn't have been any more intense then what happened in real life.

The warehouse had a concrete set of stairs and so the truck had to take an angle and try and clip me. I leapt to those steps just as it went by. I just made it. I mean by inches. The truck swerved and went zipping past. By now I was completely energized. It was like they always say: I didn't have time to be frightened - it was just a burst of pure adrenalin.

After the little Datsun pickup truck had passed, I came back off the steps and ran next door towards the residence. Even with the backpack on, I jumped the fence and landed in the yard in a heap. The little truck swerved back over beyond the initial telephone pole and came to a stop in the parking lot, with the car pointing right at me. Then the driver turned off his headlights and waited. We were in a standoff, staring at each other. I was breathing hard and wondering what to do next.

Suddenly, a car rolled in from the left and pulled up in front of the yard. It was two girls: Angels # 2 and # 3 of Arizona. I'll never forget what one of them said: "Why is that man trying to kill you?" It sounded strange but that was what he was trying to do. I told her, "I don't know - we just met." These wonderful women offered to take me anywhere in Flagsaff and I got in. We even drove over to the pickup truck and circled it. The man had short dirty blond hair and glasses over beady little eyes. He had the classic intense look of a psycho criminal, staring straight ahead, lost in his twisted world. We drove away.

There would be 4 or 5 close calls on the road during the Hitchhiking Years. This one in the Spring of 1972 was the worst. Strangely, I felt no fear or even ill will at the time or since. I just didn't think about mankind in those terms back then. It didn't register with me. Instead, I felt terrific knowing I had survived. Not only was I still alive, but I had been rescued by these two great women. They really were cool, and that's what I chose to think about. It had been quite a day for a variety of reasons. These were the 3 Angels of Arizona, and they'll always have their own place in my heart.

Richard Jeni: Clinical Depression

2007-03-13T15:32:00.000-07:00

Well, the comedians I talked with were right. Richard Jeni's problem was mental and his family has confirmed it. I feel so sorry for him and them. None of us is immune to the sudden onslaught of clinical depression and all the other mental breakdowns. I watched a lawyer friend of mine go from visiting the White House in an official capacity to living in a car. When it happens it can be devastating.

Richard Jeni was one person and this disease made him act like someone else. A comedian who worked with him recently....well, I won't go into it, but this is what happened - this was the problem.

Let's use it to appreciate mental health and better understand the terrible burdens on someone who is stricken with these diseases. We have to make it okay to talk about, so everyone can do what they can. This was not his fault. It was just a really bad break. Of all the things that suck, this type of illness is right near the top of the list.
ExtraTV.com | Richard Jeni%u2019s Family: He Suffered from Severe Depression

Day Three: Flashes of Anger and Attempts at Understanding

2007-03-13T07:36:00.000-07:00

This situation with Richard Jeni caught my people in the comedy world by surprise, but notes are being compared and I've heard some things that make it sound like a mental problem. If it's not driven by drugs, then I can be understanding about that, especially if you give me a few days. My people in Colorado say he was showing up at radio interviews and acting weird and paranoid lately. He also began canceling gigs. This was echoed by a comedian in Florida who said he made it to town but didn't make the gig. If it was a mental breakdown that's one thing - that's a tough break. If it's drugs, that's going to take longer. At this point, I think I've almost heard enough to clear the girlfriend, pending the final investigation. Of course, no suicide note and shot in the face? Who kills themselves like that?

Who knows what really happened? I guess I assume someone who has the sense to analyze the world using humor must automatically have it together. Oh sure, you get your substance abuse problems like with George Carlin, but even that was somewhat of a shock. How can people so brilliant at seeing what is screwed up in things, not be able to analyze what's not right with their own lives?

Then there was Leno's words on the subject, plus a clip. Jay seemed fine during the monologue and through the tribute part, but after they came back and did something at the desk, his eyes told the story. He was hurt bad on this, and that makes me feel awful. He's really remarkably cheerful, this Leno guy. He loves doing comedy and he's just a force of nature, outworking everyone I've ever heard of in the comedy field. So to see his eyes like that - small, devastated, and tired looking - made me very sad. After last night I can project to what he'll look like at 70.

At least, you can count on Leno to keep his personal life together. Frankly, I worry about the motorcycles, but I have complete trust in him to keep himself stable, and isn't that part of the deal with liking someone? "I'm not going to like you, if you're only going to destroy yourself and hurt me doing it." Isn't that how it goes?

Can comedians please make some kind of pledge? If you're going to lull us into liking you with the laughs - if you're going to ask us to love you in a sense for your humor and joy - would you agree to die in a way that isn't this ugly? Is that so much to ask? Slip on a banana peel or have a safe drop on you. Anything, but keep it light for Christ sake. Keep it consistent.

And if you're spinning out of control with some mental problem, tell us and prepare us for what lies ahead. Do not just cruise along with the laughs and then pull something this ugly. The overall feeling is that we've been set up and tricked. It's one thing when a criminal shoots himself in the face after a long ugly life, but to go from the laughs to this is not right, and goddamn it, it's not funny.

Oh, and the people around the comedian: If you sense he or she is heading into a dark place mentally, please get the comedian help. We all know Jonathan Winters had mental problems. Tell us and let us all help the person. We can be there and help.

It makes you not trust people. When something this awful happens out of the blue, it makes everything else seem less real. Who can you trust not to take you into something like this set of emotions? What else to this story is there?

These days when I hear bad news there's the Monday version where it's just horrible but then I sit around waiting for it to get worse. You start anticipating the Thursday version where we find out he had a pound of cocaine up his ass and was sleeping with a 13-year-old horse. You know, you stop trusting reality.

I had no idea there was a problem here. With all the f-ing entertainment celebrity shows, somebody should have informed me that there was a problem here, so I wouldn't get blind-sided by something like this. Is that too goddamn much to ask?

Thank you. Sorry to vent, but this was a shock.

18.) The Hitchhiking Years: Surf's Up and an Aramco Pioneer

2007-03-12T05:54:00.000-07:00

Laguna Beach was the place where I confronted mankind's march to conquer the planet. It arrived in two parts. First, there was 1972 when I was hitchhiking down the coast of California. I was a mere 18 years old plus a few weeks. In fact, I would soon be needing to stop somewhere and register for the draft. Vietnam was still hanging over this nation like an awful poisonous cloud. Thank God nothing like that could ever happen today.

Forgive the sarcasm, but I awoke in a strange mood this morning. I've enjoyed this extended nostalgic jaunt but you have to be on the lookout always in case something is beginning to do you harm. Living in the past is one of the true wastes of time there is. It starts as a comfort to you - plus a break from the present - but it ends up making you more aware of the swift passage of time and your own fleeting mortality. So let's press on:

The view from the cliffs over the Pacific Ocean was stunning. I had a couple of encounters during this stretch that were unforgettable. First, I arrived in one of the little coastal towns and this young teenage girl just sort of glommed onto me. It was her chance to interact with a complete stranger and she was fascinated by me. It was innocent but what a parental nightmare: A drifter comes to town and your daughter is extremely forward with him as he wanders through. Here's the amazing part: She was absolutely devastatingly cute. Tan with brown hair. You grow up hearing these Beach Boys songs about how hot the women of Southern California were and then the next thing you know you're walking around with one. Picture a teenage Julia Roberts only much, much cuter, plus she was boy crazy. Though all we did was talk, I'll never forget that.

Speaking of Beach Boys songs, I also met this surfing couple - the prototypical Southern California pair. She was very beautiful, tanned, and gorgeous, while her handsome surfer boyfriend was friendly enough but not talkative. They took me to this beach and the guy put on a wet suit and went in surfing while I chatted with his surfer girlfriend as she watched him lovingly, sitting there in her little bikini. It was nice to see the songs could be true, and I always had the utmost respect for the surfing lifestyle after this. Incidentally, I would sort of interview the people I was with - ask questions about their lives just to get a sense of what was going on. This girl said something that was so sexy that it's stuck with me all these years.

By the way, after talking with her for a while, this surfer dude was like a hero of mine just for dating her. He rode one last wave to the shore and came in. He was toweling off naked and I was talking to the girl asking what the social scene was like in the area. Did they go to many parties? The girl just said no and then gave me a super sexy smile and nodded towards the surfer god guy and said, "He's my party." I've never forgotten that, either.

Back to part one of bearing witness to our impact on the planet: It started as I camped out high above the waves on the cliffs of Laguna Beach. I was all set to drift off with visions of surfer girls dancing in my head, when I heard an animal stir in the brush very close to me. I hated that, and I had to move. I don't know what it was but it was substantial. This animal stuff was always a possibility camping out. You would sometimes have an encounter with the wild kingdom. I never saw the beast - I just knew it was there and it was time to move.

Here's part two of the story: The very next year I would drive by the same spot in Laguna Beach with my college roommate and the entire area was being road-graded for a sub-division. My little animal friend had to be gone. That's the real story, isn't it? First, the Beautiful Children of the Waves show up, then there's a sub-division. It was a real glimpse of our interaction with the planet.

Most people like to separate themselves from the problems of the environment which is cute. They act like they're not really consuming oil or creating garbage - that they are exempt from most of the blame simply because they have the right mental attitude about it. Back then, a lot of people weren't completely aware of the role oil played in just about everything that makes up modern life, right down to those rock records we loved so much.

Being born in Arabia, I always felt personally innocent of the geo-political part of the situation. I didn't fill out any forms to be born in an oil town - I know that. And the adults who made it happen were my father and his friends. Incidentally, my Dad always used to say how we were wasting oil by burning it. He was the one who told me they made records out of it, plus a million other products.

These men who ran Aramco were my real heros as I grew up, and none was more impressive than the CEO - or Chairman of the Board as we called them - a legend named Tom Barger.This was one of the guys who, in his 20s, rode around the wilds of the Arabian desert in a Land Rover, and discovered one of the biggest oil fields on earth. Not to overstate it, but he helped find the energy that allowed humanity to thrive, doubling in population since the 1950s. Indeed, some anthropologists refer to this era of human beings as Petroleum Man, and if you have a problem with it, wait till you see what happens when cheap oil starts running out. You might already be living in that world right now.

I bring this up because my next stop on the trip would be La Jolla, California where I stayed at the home of Tom Barger who had retired a few years before. Sure, I would see him back in Dhahran all the time, maybe just out fixing his car - he was a normal guy, not like the CEOs of today - but I had never really visited with him. This would be my chance. It was your typical Aramco tribal hospitality which is to say excellent. His daughter took me for a walk on the beach, and I stayed in a really nice room. Mainly, I listened to what this legendary man and his family had to say.

To me, it was like meeting with one of the great pioneers of the Wild West, only those days were over, so young men had to go farther to have a great adventure. Some even went to Saudi Arabia.

He looked like a senior version of Buddy Holly, and just exuded competence, not to mention integrity. Think about it. Setting up a company in a harsh foreign desert was an incredible task. I mean, these were whole towns that had to be created complete with our own airline. Plus, the engineering problems were dramatic and virtually everything had to be brought in. So this guy was a real American leader in the best sense. You remember those, don't you?

When we sat down to dinner with one of his sons and other family members, I was in for a real grilling. He asked me what I thought of Vietnam and a bunch of other stuff, and I told him. You know, certain people make a huge impression on you. Nobody I ever met impressed me more than Tom Barger. He was a legend of the Arabia days. When I see oil executives now they just seem like clowns compared to this guy. Especially that fat greedy idiot from Exxon/Mobil.

It was always interesting to see how people reacted to my little adventure on the road. Frankly, some adults didn't get it, but to men like Tom Barger, it was important. It reminded him of being young and heading out into the world to find your way. I had been born into an adventure in Arabia, so it was up to me to try and find something else to keep it going.

I could see Tom got a kick out of that - out of the spirit behind it. Not that I would have anywhere near the impact he did, but still, it was coming from the same place. It meant a lot to me that he seemed to approve of what I was doing. My father understood as well. Men who go off to places like Arabia and set up a grand life are a different sort. They have more of a love for adventure than your average person.

This picture above is probably the only one from during my journey. My Mom had taken a snapshot of me the day I left but this one above was me leaving La Jolla during the actual trip. I would ride on the back of a chopper motorcycle in this outfit holding my backpack between me and the biker. It was 1972. I was barefoot and free.

Comedy Takes Another Loss

2007-03-11T19:59:00.000-07:00

Well, after a week off, we're heading back into the late night talk shows with heavy hearts. I wanted to blog about the Richard Jeni situation earlier in the day but it was too soon. It's shocking like when Phil Hartman died. I'm going to take the old fashioned approach and bury it for a few days. For one thing, I have to get back to writing jokes - of all things.

I will say that I hate to think of Leno being bummed out, and I'm sure he is. He was saddened by Richard Pryor's passing but that had an element of sanity to it. This is just shocking, and I hope the story doesn't get more depressing than it already is - if that's even possible.

All I'll say is my favorite Richard Jeni routine was when he talked in the New York accent about how you couldn't just fight someone back East. First you had to tell them exactly what you were going to do to them. Check that one out if you can. It was so funny. Ahh, this sucks.

Back to the comedy. You know, there are actually times when I feel sort of protective of Leno. Not that we're friends or anything. I've just talked to him a few times but I am grateful to him and I like him. So I am going to try and write some brilliant comedy tomorrow. I sure as hell know they won't be in the mood for writing jokes down in L.A.

One thing I sometimes forget is that these guests on the Tonight Show come back enough to be part of everyone's life down there. I learned that with Steve Irwin - the Croc Hunter. To them he was a great guy and a buddy who came through many times. He was someone they got to know.

To lose an actual comedian must be extra tough for Leno and the gang down there. I hate it. Richard Jeni goes out like this? It's tough for everybody who loves comedy.

Beatles All Day

2007-03-11T15:58:00.000-07:00

Sunday, a local radio station, 106.7 FM, ran the Beatles A to Z - every song the band recorded in alphabetical order. It started at 7 a.m. and it's 3:12 p.m. and they're up to the O's. "Only a Northern Song" to be exact. My God, what a body of work. At first the format seems arbitrary with some accidental thematic connections like, "I'm Only Sleeping", leading right into "I'm So Tired." However it could be the perfect way to approach this because you get to bounce around from the cheerful, innocent early years through the last cynical bitter sad farewells.

I don't know about you, but I am still in the process of getting over the Beatles breaking up. So it's fun to go back to the beginning after hearing a dramatic one from towards the end. It's a tremendous way to keep it fresh and unpredictable. You'll be cruising along in some early Fab Four classic and then POW! - you get one of the heaviest song compositions ever. The stunning part is how much compositional brilliance went into those early songs. I did hear a rhyme scheme in "I Should Have Known Better" that made me smile for its innocence. Of course, I didn't think twice about it back again, but it seems a little funny now:

"That when I tell you that I love you, oh
You're gonna say you love me too, oh
And when I ask you to be mine
You're gonna say you love me too"

Interesting use of the repeating line. Maybe it was one of those studio accidents that you just leave.

The amazing thing about music is that there are no real tricks. Oh sure, every now and then someone does some technical sleight of hand, but the basic lines are right there for anyone to sing. You've got a 4-piece rock band? Try singing this stuff. Good luck. If you have someone to cover the leads, that's one thing. Even that can be hard in their original keys. Then try covering the harmony lines. Forget sounding good at it. Just try to get up there.

Many people agree that John Lennon was the most important person in the group. I mean he had the gravitas. But imagine having a rock band who needs another musician and Paul McCartney walks in. Just think about what he brings to the equation. How does that job interview go? How about for starters, just asking him what he can do?

Okay. He can sing screaming leads like "I'm Down" then turn right around and sing the most beautiful soft stuff like "Here, There, and Everywhere." Then you get to the high harmonies. Not just reached, mind you, but crushed. High harmonies that absolutely shred the air with greatness. Oh, and if the bridge gets to a climax and you need someone to scream like a mountain lion, Paul's got that, too.

Now you get to the great bass playing - leftie so you'll look cool. Then you throw in the piano and - oh, the band's tired? He can pick up an acoustic and do a song like "Blackbird" or "Yesterday" by himself.

Which brings the job interview to something else: Can you compose songs? It turns out Paul is also one of the great song composers in human history with as many standards as most people have songs. "Yesterday" is the most covered tune ever. The only reason the others are not covered more by garage bands is that they're so damn difficult. Stones are easy. Beatles music is hard.

By now, you're starting to think it would probably be a good idea to hire this guy, but you ask is there anything else? Is he presentable enough? How's his stage presence? The answer to that is yes, he's extremely presentable. In fact, he's known as the Cute One, so everywhere your band plays, girls will be screaming.

But sorry, this job interview never happens. He doesn't auditon for your band. Instead he lands in a group with the likes of John Lennon and George Harrison, and with an underrated drummer named Ringo. The result? You have a day like today on the radio. This thing could go on for over ten hours and there is not a single song that most rock fans don't know and very few that we don't love. It's been a remarkable day and many thanks to this station. It was a valuable reminder of how lucky we are to have this music. They just got to "Rain". I'm actually getting sad thinking the alphabet is almost done. "Revolution" just started. Now it's onto the slower version. "Don't you know it's going to be all right." What a band.

Dick Cheney: "Say Something Nice" Contest Announced

2007-03-11T11:02:00.000-07:00

It takes a special kind of blogger to be inspired by one of my own comments, especially since I was commenting on one of my own posts, but that's what we have here. I wanted to say something nice about President Bush as a contrast to most comments I read these days. I mean, why should FOX News get to be the only ones who are fair and balanced? Here's what I came up with:

"His outrageous power grab and criminal policy of preemptive strikes - formerly known as the Law of the Jungle - forced me to become a political activist. Before, I was busy just leading my life, not really concerned with having a blog or a cable access show to speak out. So he's gotten me more involved. I also was becoming very worried about the increasingly rapid pace of the years going by. President Bush has managed to turn the last 6 years into some of the longest of my entire life. In fact it's starting to feel like we're stuck in time. Thanks, President Bush!"

Flushed with magnanimous joy, I felt I had learned something about our better angels and that other good stuff. If this is truly going to be a Christian theocracy then we damn sure better start being more forgiving of each other. In this spirit I was moved to announce a contest to "Say Something Nice about Dick Cheney."

My pick would be that as soon as he had covered up the hunting incident where he shot his lawyer friend in the face - as soon as he made sure he was in no danger of being tested for booze - why then, he showed some genuine concern for old what's-his-name.

Secondly, when the Joe Wilson matter threatened to unmask the Iraq War for the deception it was, Cheney went ballistic. He knew his big pile of lies could not stand to be scrutinized and he was willing to sacrifice any of his friends to make sure the matter stopped right there. Dick would stop at nothing to lie America into an unnecessary war that's killed hundreds of thousands of people.

Think about that. How many times were we told as kids to stick with it and believe in yourself? Dick Cheney is a role model for our young people. He's really just a fat, cuddly Teddy Bear with a pacemaker of gold.

If you're having trouble thinking of something nice to say, feel free to include things that Dick Cheney got right - examples of his skill as a leader and planner. That should make it a little easier.

I'm only going to make one little rule: If you are a terrorist writing in to say how much the Bush administration has helped make terrorism bigger around the world, I'm not interested. Yes, it's true, but you're just not welcome here.

Doesn't this feel great? I'm already looking forward to the "Say Something Nice" contest about Karl Rove.

Imagine My Shock: FBI Misused Patriot Act

2007-03-09T10:53:00.000-08:00

One of the most disappointing things that right wingers did these last few years is to roll over on civil liberties. I might be naive but I always assumed there was an element of true belief in the conservative tenet of the rights of the individual and getting government off our backs. Unfortunately, it turned out to be just more talking points such as "Extramarital affairs are unacceptable" and "Support the troops."

If the conservative movement was genuine the impeachment of President Bush would have come from the right wing. Instead, they were too busy cuddling up to the federal government. They were willing to give over our civil liberties in exchange for a feeling of safety. They acted like little kids who just wanted Dick Cheney to stop scaring them, to tuck them in at night, and then tell them everything was fine.

Any liberal expressions of concern that the Patriot Act was dangerous to our freedoms were met with calls of, "You terrorist appeasing traitor", and the dumbest thing of all, "If you haven't done anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about." Well, folks, here's an article about the FBI misusing the Patriot Act. To all the right wing suck-ups out there who snuggled up to Big Daddy in the government, congratulations. While you were trembling in fear of terrorism, you were actually selling out the greatest country in the world. Way to go.
BREITBART.COM - Justice Dept.: FBI Misused Patriot Act

17.) The Hitchhiking Years: California, a Blur

2007-03-09T06:52:00.000-08:00

My rule so far has been to leave out even some cool stories if I don't remember exactly when they happened - on what particular trip during the Hitchhiking Years. California gets a little tricky since I would interact with it many times after 1972, and not everything we did back then was conducive to a strong memory.

There's a chance that my first visit to a legendary Aramco friend named Big R happened on this initial pass through California although he might not have gotten there quite yet. Big R attended a boarding school in a setting so beautiful that you had to hitch past the Pebble Beach golf course just to get there. I believe the school was called Robert Louis Stevenson. I just searched for it and I was right on the name. Given the tenor of those times, it's always good when a fact checks out.

Besides, I don't want to force the memories on this stuff. The human brain is great at filling in the gaps with the imagination, so I'm not going to press it. I know there was a visit to Big R that led to a ridiculous weekend at a state park with one residence on it, right on the coast. We were staying with the rich kids who lived there. That was later, but we were at a stop light and they informed us that one of the musicians from the Youngbloods was coming the other way. I always thought that was cool. Ahh, this part is sort of a blur as far as chronology goes. I know! I'll check the old map I drew about the trip. See above. Okay, first let's take a moment to admire that stunning drawing of the redwoods. It's like for a second there they come alive on the page. Hmm, I also just got a memory of another place I think I stayed on this pass even before I got to Monterey and Carmel. It was the University of Santa Cruz, and the campus looked like a resort. But who was I visiting and was that later? Would it have killed me to write a little journal? Nothing detailed like Kevin Costner's in "Dancing with Wolves" - just the basics. You know, I had to check in every night with an uncle on the East Coast and for a long time I had the phone records of all the collect calls. That would have been extremely helpful, too. Oh, screw it. Let's stick to what I know. At least we'll always have the special drawing of the redwoods.

The map shows that I hitched all the way down the coast to Los Angeles. That's right, because I remember when I finally drove on I-5 up the agricultural inland part of California. Okay, and I know this was not the time when I hitchhiked through Los Angeles at night. That was also later but picture this, people. How desperate and crazy do you have to be to hitchhike through Los Angeles at night? That definitely went in the screenplay.

See the problem? Look at the map below. Can you make out all those faint lines east and south of L.A.? Those are all different hitchhiking journeys. So let me just stick to what I'm sure of and leave out the rest. This first time through Los Angeles, it was in the day and even then, in the bright sunlight, I would have a brush with the dark side of humanity. I was on a dusty freeway ramp with a bare lot next to it, and a car full of people pulled over. I threw on my pack - a smooth motion by now - and I jogged to the car. When I got there, I reached for the door handle and as soon as I grabbed it, the car tore off, causing me to lose my balance. I didn't fall over but I could hear them laughing in the car and I definitely got sprayed with small rocks and dirt as they peeled out.

One of the best things about revisiting the Hitchhiking Years is that it's a chance to remember what I used to be like. I was 18 and I had a fairly idealistic view of humanity. By December of the following year that would lay in ruins as my best friend, Walker, the drummer of our rock band in Arabia, would be killed in a horrific terrorist attack on a Pan Am jet at the airport in Rome. That would change me, but during the main two Hitchhiking Years of 1972 and 1973, I was protected by an overwhelming optimism and sense of adventure. You need that to face the public in this format, and I definitely reaccessed a lot of it after Walker got killed. Frankly, I lost a lot of my faith in humanity - not you, just those other crazy bastards out there - and because I was young and full of good intentions at the time, I had more of it to lose.

Innocence can be a protective shield. It was a nice force that helped me win over complete strangers during the Hitchhiking Years. When people sense you're not as suspicious of them as you should be, they relax. Of course, it gets shed as you live longer, but while you have it, the innocence can make you strong. I miss that. It was naive but it was genuine. One of the great tasks of growing up is maintaining your love of the human race even after you get to know what we're really like.

So the Hitchhiking Years are my chance to revisit my old self. Now admittedly, I would bring out the road skills years later in Portland for a legendary 6-day jaunt across America to Massachusetts, and another one from Portland to Minnesota, but those were done in a darker mood. My youthful view of humanity ended when the terrorists killed my friend - that's for sure.

So this brief display of man's inhumanity to man that I experienced that day in Los Angeles bounced off me like one of the rocks that flew up from the screeching tires as the car tore off. I was a little startled. If I had fallen forward, I suppose I could have been run over by the back tire, but it was nothing really. I would face much worse only a few days later.

I shrugged it off and went back to the side of the road. Within a day or two I would be having one of the great stops of the entire trip and I would be living it up once again. For now it was just a matter of dusting myself off and marveling that people would take the time to pull a prank like this. Oh well. Back then it was all just part of the adventure.

16.) The Hitchhiking Years: Baseball, Doughnuts, and the Meaning of Life

2007-03-08T06:54:00.000-08:00

There was another card I could play during the Hitchhiking Years. I graduated a semester early from my boarding school in Exeter, New Hampshire, and I had friends and acquaintances scattered throughout the colleges of America whom I had just been in prep school lock-down with the year before. To me I was a wandering free spirit hitchhiking through, but to the school officials I encountered I was looking at their college for possible admission. So that's how I ended up at a school gathering outside a dorm at Stanford in the year 1972. My friend from prep school was actually a good guy named Jim McDanials - if memory serves. You know, we weren't great buddies, but we had lived in the same dorm, and that was enough back then. This would lead to one of the true brushes with the soul of America - among the best from the entire trip.

Incidentally, I thought Stanford was great - the most beautiful campus I had seen. Of course, I was sick of cold weather and the East Coast schools with ivy growing on the brick walls and everywhere else. I had been living in "Catcher in the Rye" and here was a place that seemed hip. I also appreciated the town of Palo Alto for the role it played in the formation of the Grateful Dead and the life of one Jerome Garcia, known to his many friends as Jerry.

After milling around for awhile chatting with teachers, etc...my school friend and his roommate decided we'd go see the San Francisco Giants play a baseball game. What more fitting way to experience the country than that? But wait - it gets better.

As someone who had grown up overseas, there was a mythical place called America that existed along with the United States. Don't get me wrong. The real version did not disappoint. I was knocked out by the land out West, and by the greatness of the City by the Bay - frankly, that had exceeded my expectations. But the mythical America was harder to find. It floated over the action like a Jerry Garcia guitar lick, only presenting itself in rare moments.

This night would be one of them. Towards the end of the game a really old player on the team was sent in to pinch hit. It didn't matter that he struck out, the crowd went crazy anyway. This was the night I saw Willie Mays play baseball.

Heading south, out of the Bay area, I was still taking the coastal roads and enjoying the scenery. In fact, I was having so much fun that money was becoming a concern - not major yet - but I had begun to think about budgeting a little, which in those days meant using the American Express card. That was the real card to play.

It was so classic that one of the things my Dad would say about the card was that having one meant you couldn't be arrested for being a vagrant in California. He just said it to make an interesting point, little knowing that his son would end up hitchhiking around America and could have been arrested as a vagrant in California.

Of course, my Dad just wanted us to have a way to buy airline tickets home to Arabia and for emergencies. The card had my name on it but the bills went to him. By the time I reached Monterey, I realized a cash flow problem was taking place and it was all flowing out. I was half a world away from my folks, so using the broadest possible definition, this qualified as an emergency. I began to search for a restaurant that took the card.

The problem was that the card was more for being outside of America. It wasn't widely used - at least not back then - in the United States. I saw a lot of Mastercard, etc.. places but if a restaurant took it, it was often upscale. That's how I ended up walking into this really fancy restaurant right by the harbor in Monterey. It was a classic scene. I asked the Maitre D' if I could put my pack behind the cash register and he looked mortified but said yes. I sat down and began ordering a really expensive lunch with wine. I think it was when I ordered some take-out as well that there was a discussion of the bill. I showed them the card and they were sort of surprised so while I slammed lobster or something like that, the Maitre D' was over on the phone to American Express wondering how this scam was going to play out.

This was the part that was a little different from "The Grapes of Wrath" or "On the Road". Incidentally, my father would always say spend as little as possible on the necessities of life and then go all out on the luxuries. He was quite a guy, and I wasn't taking advantage of him. Ordering lobster and some good wine is exactly what he would have wanted me to do in that situation. I finished, put the pack back on, and walked out past the elite yacht-club-type diners of Monterey.

By the next day I was stuck in Big Sur. Yes, it was beautiful, but it was also warm, and I hadn't eaten for a long time. I distinctly remember going into a little store and getting a box of sugar-covered doughnuts and a half quart of milk. By then I was exhausted and starving and I devoured everything. I remember it because all the sugar practically made me hallucinate. I went back out to this 2-lane road and I had one of those moments that defined the times.

There was another long-hair hitching on the other side of the road, and we were both going nowhere. It was time to get back to the big freeways if I could ever get out of Big Sur. I was willing to go north again to do it, but I just couldn't get a ride anywhere and neither could he. That's when we made an agreement. Every 15 minutes or so we would change sides and hitch in the other direction. Maybe it was the weird rush from eating all the sugar doughnuts, but I thought that was hilarious. I've always felt it represented the Hitchhiking Years perfectly. It didn't really matter where you were going - it only mattered that you kept moving down the road.

Back In The Day

2007-03-07T18:16:00.000-08:00

Here's a picture of me and my VOX Wyman-model bass back in the day. One time my friend Walker - the drummer in the group - and I were going through the airport in Paris. He said he recognized the person who had just passed by. It was Rolling Stone bassist Bill Wyman, the man my bass was named after. He was extremely small and thin, and had a major girlfriend towering over him. He was wearing one of those Moroccan sheep skin jackets, but the thing that really knocked us out was that there was a silver-haired older executive in a suit walking along beside him, leaning in attentively asking him something and the older executive guy in the suit was carrying Bill Wyman's bags. Rock and roll!

A Diamond in Space Named Lucy

2007-03-07T13:17:00.000-08:00

Just in case you were feeling sort of bored with the universe today, here's the story of a star that is a big diamond. Enjoy.
BBC NEWS | Science/Nature | Diamond star thrills astronomers

From the Wards of New Orleans to the Wards of Walter Reed

2007-03-07T07:33:00.000-08:00

As with most Americans, I have been seething about the care badly wounded vets are receiving after coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan. Do you realize how difficult it is for this administration to hit a new low? I guess if you are capable of sending a young person into harm's way under false pretenses, anything is possible, but this is still shocking. I tell you one thing the Bush administration can be thankful for: That my mother didn't live to see it.

She spent some very difficult years helping American soldiers in hospital wards in France and elsewhere during World War 2, and I can only imagine what she'd do if she found out the federal government was mistreating "her boys."

What's happened to this country? How can we go on enjoying ourselves while these scoundrels in charge screw over these badly wounded soldiers? Okay, let's put aside the anger for a moment and analyze this for what it says about the character of Bush and Cheney and their loyal supporters. That's right: This is an issue that defines your moral character.

We have an administration here that lives to spin. They've never really taken an interest in governing right, even when the consequences of poor management hurt them. It's all about enriching their friends - giving tax breaks to Exxon while they cut the Vets budget. Then you throw in the incompetence - the sheer inability and lack of desire to get things done correctly. That's the key clue here. This story doesn't help them but Bush and Cheney don't care or can't work the problem. They don't have the moral fiber, the drive, or the skill. They would rather run their mouths about how great it's going, than make it so. They rely more on the careful line in the press, than really doing their jobs. Then they unleash the right wing talking-points machine and trust that things will turn out okay. As usual, their morally-challenged group of sheep-like supporters nod their heads in reverence as the new lies come tumbling down.

Did you see what Brit Hume of Fox "News" said about this? It may have been the most revealing comment about this entire wretched crew. Summing up the mistreatment of our wounded soldiers he said, "It looks terrible, which is the problem." It's not the reality that's the concern here - the problem is how it looks. It's a failure of spin.

The Drudge Report called it an "embarrassment." An embarrassment? It's a national disgrace and a human tragedy. With the Bush administration there are only two outcomes to any situation: Spin that works, and spin that doesn't work. Of course, if it doesn't work you try and spin that.

Maybe it's the idealist in me, but I always maintained some appreciation for the Republicans skill in governing. I didn't go so much for the foreign policy hype - I never believed they were as good as they claimed at that, but I gave even Richard Nixon some credit for being able to turn the knobs and flip the switches of the apparatus of government. He was actually someone who could be in charge of something.

But this group? Every decision just happens to be the lazy thing to do. Really get in there and research something? Really plan for anything? Nah, that would be too much hassle. They would rather screw up and try and talk their way out of it, than do it right. I wouldn't hire Dick Cheney or George Bush to run a hot dog stand at the Rose Festival. Disregarding everything else that's wrong with them, they just suck at doing their jobs.

It's only appropriate - in some horrible way - that the people who have paid the worst price in the Iraq fiasco should get screwed over by Bush and Cheney upon their return. Why? Because it's the most incompetent, shameful, disgusting thing that could possibly be, so with the Bush administration it was bound to happen.

15.) The Hitchhiking Years: Northern California

2007-03-06T06:43:00.001-08:00

One of the truly silly things about my hitchhiking trip was when the "Born in Arabia" label would come into play. There was a soda pop with the slogan, "It Hasta Be Shasta", that would show up from time to time in Arabia. The town of Dhahran only had one company grocery store called "The Commissary", and things were not always in supply. My recollection is that Shasta pop was not a regular thing - at least not in 1139-B, the humble concrete home where I grew up. I knew there was a picture of a mountain on the label, but it was only after hitchhiking into northern California in the Spring of 1972, that I would behold the real Mt. Shasta and say to myself, "My God, it's real."

This would happen again when I saw a freeway sign for Half Moon Bay. The California oil men had named a bay near Dhahran, "Half Moon Bay", and this was one of the sacred places of my youth. This is where I swam with dolphins and had a million adventures. The idea that there could be another Half Moon Bay here in the States was very surprising to me. How they heard about our bay in Arabia and ripped off the name, I'll never know.

I had another one of those decisions to make when I got to Redding, California. The time came to camp and there was not an immediate solution. I finally settled on this sheltered pathway that was part of a 7 Day Adventist Church. It was fortunate that I wasn't found, because for awhile, I could here people inside singing.

It's odd really. For thousands of years we've been wandering the earth camping out here and there. This was what humans did, even less than a hundred years before in places like Northern California. I had come along just when humanity had settled the planet enough that a wandering soul looking for a place to camp for the night, was virtually a criminal. I recognized the reality of that situation, but I didn't feel I was doing wrong. Heck, I had been born an American overseas and I was just checking out my homeland-to-be. That was one of the driving forces, so I slept well at night.

See, everyone in Dhahran had a date certain when they knew they'd be leaving the Kingdom. Retirement age was 60, owing to the harsher environment so when your father turned that age you were gone. Later there would be classmates who ended up working for the oil company, but I knew in 3 more years, I would be moving to America, so I was curious about the place. I didn't feel too guilty about crashing wherever - it was all part of the adventure. In fact, it was nice listening to the choir practicing as I rolled out my bag and went to sleep.

The next day, I got my second ride in a semi. I wanted to head to the Pacific Ocean and I rode on a little road in a lumber truck, all the way to Eureka, California. The forest was ridiculous, especially if you were used to thousands of miles of sand dunes. How would the California natives say it? "The woods were intense." Then I headed south on Highway 101 stopping at Richardson Grove State Park, where I did the scene right out of the movie ET and walked in awe among the redwoods, with me in the familiar role as the space alien. Go there, if you haven't been. Stop what you are doing and get in the car and drive to the redwood country of Northern California. Now! And give my best to these spiritual giants. Oh my God, the redwoods are amazing.

Next was one of the many times when I feel I had an experience that you couldn't get with a million travel guides. This was completely a hitchhiking type thing. I made it to San Francisco - home of so much of the rock and roll history that meant the world to me and my people, and an actual longhair guy in a VW bus took it upon himself to explain the "scene" to me. We drove to meet his girlfriend in this really classy old house on some hills. Inside it was completely counter culture but very clean and upscale. I'm sure you'd have to pay a million dollars to buy that house today. It was nestled in an amazing old-fashioned neighborhood with all this cool art inside: Bead curtains, the whole bit. They treated me like I was an important visitor and it was their responsibility to let me know what had happened there.

Looking back, the funny thing about the talk we had - the awesome times they had gone through and the famous legendary bands they had seen just starting out - was that it was all in the context of the deep past. They served white wine and we got high, and everything was in these tones of, "You should have been here then." 1967, the Summer of Love was less than 6 years before, but to hear them talk it might as well have been ancient Rome.

Meanwhile, the Grateful Dead had been going for around 7 years and had more than 2 decades out ahead. But to hear this couple the entire scene was long gone, done with and over, which seems amusing now. Of course, to me, San Francisco was still very much a wonderful place - even in the advanced year of 1972.

Another Short World Trade Center Clip You Should Probably See

2007-03-05T17:58:00.000-08:00

Do You Think I'm Enjoying This? Look, I'd prefer to walk away from this subject but I can't. Yes, the implications are extremely ugly but that doesn't mean I can convince myself that the official story of 9/11 is true.

Did I say ugly? The implications of this are staggering. It would mean elements at the top of our government were willing to get thousands of Americans killed, to lie about the reasons, and all just to advance their own Neo-Con agenda. Really - outside of the Iraq War - who could imagine these people ever doing such a thing?

Yes, I'd like to walk from this. That would be so easy, but there is just way too much stench here. Everytime the clips seem to run out there are more. One very suspicious topic has always been reports of explosions unrelated to the planes hitting the towers. Frankly, I've always trusted the eye-witness reports of what happened more than our government. Remember how the Bush administration fought with all their might against even looking into this?

But why go through it again? There's only a few groups you can be in. For example, I am in the group that doesn't want this to be true, but I can't help thinking it is - I can't help concluding that Neo-Con elements within our government helped make 9/11 a reality. It was a springboard for all that's happened since. Just to touch on recent developments there's the EMT workers, there's the BBC video, and there's additional examination of the role of NORAD and the Vice President's behavior before the Pentagon hit. There is more stuff on Flight 93 that contradicts the official story...It just goes on and on.

Today's new clip features the sounds of an explosion on 9/11. The audio of the explosions with the white puff of smoke exiting the bottom of the towers is something I had seen before, but the first clip is new to me anyway.

Look, there's a way out for you here. You could argue that the terrorists also put the explosive devices in place. But don't try to convince me that explosives were not involved that day. It wasn't just two planes that dropped the towers and Building 7. One fair warning: If you do want to blame the terrorists for the additional explosives, you're going to run into some fairly tough questions pretty fast. But for now, just listen to the sounds. A million pages in a government report can't change this. Just look at it.

Did HBO Cover-Up Bomb Evidence At The WTC On 9/11? - Google Video

14.) The Hitchhiking Years: The Eugene Stop - Part 2

2007-03-05T06:16:00.000-08:00

I had made it to the Eugene, Oregon home of the former lead singer of the first great rock and roll band ever to come out of Saudi Arabia. It was the Spring of 1972 and I was hitchhiking around America. I knew Mandis's parents really well since his father and mine worked in the same department of the oil company: Government Relations. In fact, throughout my childhood, I would occasionally pick up the phone and hear Mandis's Dad asking to talk with mine. So this was ancient tribal stuff because the little American oil towns in a far-off kingdom had morphed into a tribe, with the fun-loving offspring blazing a path through the unique set of circumstances.

This was why Mandis himself was so blue, because his time in Arabia had seemingly ended. Nobody relished life in our hometown of Dhahran more than he did. I got one letter from him where the return address on the envelope read, "Eugene, assuming it hasn't washed away yet." Let's just say there was an adjustment period from the desert sun to the rain.

One of the great things about hitchhiking is that you drop in on these people and experience a slice of their world, and then simply move on, while they are left to deal with the consequences. This came down to a party that one of his college classmates was giving. It was a pretty tame affair - at least until we got there. We had with us a 3rd reveler named Tom and this guy had the spark of true comedic genius. The scene I'll always remember was a coed sitting calmly on the sofa reading, and Tom sitting down next to her. He tried turning on the charm and said, "You know, darling, you can't learn everything from books." It was truly one of those Marx Brothers-style moments that I'll never forget. Suffice it to say, we were too far ahead of the party and were eventually asked to depart. I can only imagine that the next time they all met up in class, things were awkward, if not downright testy, but I was long gone down the highway by then.

In a boisterous mood that night, we returned from the party to the Mandis residence, and began playing the rock and roll. This was all put on a 2-reel tape recorder and the tapes exist to this day. One of the songs was "Duke of Earl" and the other was not. Periodically, the intercom sprang to life with Mandis's Dad requesting that we turn it down and wrap it up.

The reason this night in 1972 was such a future indicator of how my life would go, is that 16 years later I was working in a hotel in downtown Portland when Mandis's sister approached and informed me that he was living here in Portland. Calls were made, and rock and roll was performed. It was quite a story really. There were approximately two great rock bands from Saudi Arabia in the early days. Here was the lead singer of one and the bass player turned guitarist from another, living unbeknownst to each other, a few miles apart on the other side of the world from where we had grown up. The final weird touch was that we both had the exact same model of Teac Tascam 8-track studio recorder.

This led to many years in a duo of many names: The Likely Stories, the Koola Wahids, the Opposable Thumbs. Finally we settled on the Whateverly Brothers. I began playing tambourine with my foot and teaching Mandis to play my old instrument, the bass. With 2-part harmony we were able to present enough sound to play at dances and clubs around Portland, including Harrington's, and the Dandelion Pub. This was the great rock and roll dividend - after all the fun times of youth, I found myself still playing more rock with an actual childhood hero. This is one part of my life that I consider blessed.

13 years into the duo, there was the inevitable rock and roll split. We were playing a gig one month after 9/11 and everyone was in a terrible mood. At least we were anyway. It was the Dandelion Pub and the place was packed with a Halloween crowd. The tension between us made for a crackling final few sets.

After the duo ended that night, I went onto play in a local band. Eventually I suggested to the lead singer, that we should try a trio with Mandis on bass, and it worked. Last year we played the Rose Festival and various other venues in the Portland area and elsewhere. Sadly, it now appears that trio has gone the way of all bands, and I am truly bummed about it. Still, it lasted something like 4 years and that's not all bad. As far as rock and roll goes, I have been jamming away in my basement waiting for the next way forward. It never ends. Even when it ends, it doesn't end. It won't end until I physically can't do it, which could happen anytime.

Rock and roll for me was not what you would call a profession, but it was not what you would call a hobby, either. No, this has been a way of life, and that Spring of 1972, hitchhiking through Oregon, and playing rock and roll with Mandis, I was staring at a large chunk of my future.

You Have to Laugh: Cosmic Joke Played on Portland Freelancer

2007-03-04T08:03:00.000-08:00

After questioning the Blazers choice of LaMarcus Aldridge over Adam Morrison, I decided to buy a ticket to the Charlotte game last Thursday, with the hope that I could see with my own eyes, what my television has been telling me.

This is not to say I'm one of those obnoxious fans who use pro sports to validate their lives. Incidentally, one of those people was yelling near me in a row of seats close enough for the players to hear. He seemed to be a beady-eyed psycho-loner type, and during quiet moments he would yell out personal attacks like, "Derek Anderson, I thought you retired" or "I want my money back." Finally he went right after the Charlotte coach yelling, "Bernie, when are you going to bring a real team in here?" I could see the Bobcats coach wince.

So not only was my team pummeled but I had this attention-starved maniac yelling out how much my designated heroes sucked.

Not a problem. At least my point about the draft pick would be proven once and for all, right? Adam would shine and LaMarcus would be just okay. Wrong! Adam didn't seem that into it, finishing with 12 points, mostly scored in the second half, when the game was a blow-out. LaMarcus? He had the best game of his entire life. The one night I went and this guy lights it up for 30 points in 3 quarters.

This is when I began thinking a cosmic joke was underway, and it was on me. I had to admire the comedic aspects. I even enjoyed the psycho fan for his sheer commitment to being a jerk.

Fast forward to last night, where I watched the Blazers again back in their old familiar setting on my TV. Why bother? Partly because after what I had seen in person, I am now a LaMarcus Aldridge fan. So how did he do last night? 1 for 12 with 1 of 2 from the foul line for 3 points.

Tonight the Bobcats play in Seattle. If Adam Morrison goes off or even comes close to having a great game, I will know for sure: This cosmic joke was on me.

Phil Stanford's on a Hot Trail

2007-03-03T09:44:00.000-08:00

The news that Phil Stanford has received a death threat in the mail, confirms that he's onto something big with his investigation of police corruption. The events he's been writing about might be a couple of decades old, but clearly some of the players are still around and they are none too pleased with where this is going. What really makes it relevant is that District Attorney Michael Schrunk is up to his neck in this explosive story, having investigated it the first time around as a young DA.

His office has turned the matter over to the FBI - a move designed to give the citizens of Portland a comforting feeling. Of course, if the FBI doesn't handle cases like this, then maybe the investigation was turned over to them just to make it go away. It's not going away.

Over at the Portland Tribune, the atmosphere sounds like one of those old newspaper stories from "The Front Page", where the citizens of Chicago can't wait to read what happens next. This is exactly how the paper should have been from the beginning: A way to stir things up, rather than a place to reenforce the community's fluffy image of itself.

Sure, every now and then a problem crops up where the DA is forced to clear the police in a suspicious death. It happened last year. The good citizens of Portland take note for a while and then we drift back into our polite, little world view. This is different. One of the city's newspapers appears committed to finding out what's really wrong here, and we should all pay attention.

Could it be that Stanford's book, "Portland Confidential", about corruption back in the day, never really stopped? Sure, the pages ended, but nothing else did. Portland loves to think of itself in innocent terms where the problems revolve around spending projects like the tram. Could the real truth have festered beneath the surface? At least in Chicago the problems get uncovered. It's not pretty but it's realistic. Could this town be sitting on some dark secrets that would rock our world view and change the political landscape for good?

If so, the city will never really be on the right path until this underlying truth is exposed for all to see. Maybe then, the irritating peripheral funding stuff will just evaporate. Besides, who cares about the tram if these secrets go unexplored? We've got some real political baggage here. If you put all of Portland's baggage on the tram, the cables would snap and it would drop like a rock.

One thing's for sure: Somebody out in this tame little city is worried - worried enough to sit down and write a death threat to the most courageous newspaper columnist in Portland. Phil knew what he was getting into here, and he went anyway. You have to admire that.

The question remains are the good citizens going to take notice and follow the story wherever it leads, or are we going to turn back to more genteel subjects like school funding? If we do, what are we really teaching the next generation? That crime is okay, if you're connected enough to get it covered up?

Comedy 101: Sexism and Stereotypes - When to Sell Out

2007-03-02T07:35:00.001-08:00

One area I tend to avoid in my comedy writing is the differences between men and women. It's so hack it even has its own hack name: The Battle of the Sexes. This is based on my general avoidance of stereotypes based on any group of people. That's where you get into your standard comedy routines about gays loving musicals, etc...That sort of humor certainly doesn't help - in fact, it hurts. You can talk all you want about the dangers of being politically correct, but I don't admire these worn-out putdowns that make generalizations about an entire group that are only true for a subset. It's a setback for progress and I don't want any part of it.

So let me explain why I went with a sexism-style joke last night and it sold. First of all, I respect my contact in LA so much that I avoid crude material altogether. I once asked her if a certain joke about Monica Lewinsky that was televised, had been mine. Monica had been seen with metal on her teeth and there was speculation she had gotten braces. I wrote that it turned out to be chrome off a trailer hitch, which is a very crude joke about oral sex. My contact said the joke had been mine, then she said, "Be proud, be very proud."

In other words, I might have won over the host and the crowd and maybe even the TV audience with that, but I had not won her over. That led to a slight change in my approach. I would still send in an occasional crude joke but not as many as before, and I would usually apologize for her having to read it. This was not really necessary but I just like her that much.

So it was with a certain hesitancy that I sent in my overtly sexist joke the other day, which aired last night. Apparently Iran is setting up an island just for women. My joke was that it brings up a deep philosophical question: If something goes wrong on the island, whose fault would it be?

The joke represents an era of comedy that ended in something like 1957 - that "Take my wife, please" stuff where comedians like Henny Youngman explored marriage. That's what it is really: A marriage joke. Apparently a certain percentage of married men feel they get an undue share of the blame when something goes wrong around the house. In that sense it is targeted at a subset of the crowd. The host even discussed the pitfalls of alienating half the audience.

Maybe I could weasel out of it by saying it's 2007 and men really are to blame for much of what goes on in the world. But that ignores the increasing blame I place on Nancy Pelosi for not ending Iraq.
So I admit it. The joke was sort of hack and I apologize. It's why I avoid this topic but when you have an island full of women, it is hard to avoid. I like the way my own Mom put it: She would say things like, "I expect more out of women than I do out of men", but she also said, "You men - you have a lot to put up with."

At any rate, the joke went on and the crowd laughed. I don't feel awesome about it, but sometimes these moral guidelines must be overlooked in the name of commerce. The Portland Freelancer has spoken.

Rookie of the Year: LaMarcus Aldridge

2007-03-01T22:52:00.000-08:00

Well, I just got back from the Rose Garden and several things are now apparent. The Blazers management pick of LaMarcus Aldridge ahead of Adam Morrison was a winner. They were right and I was wrong. What I saw tonight was an incredible athlete and a real gentleman running the floor with the speed of a guard, while playing the inside game of a smooth, talented big man. It was a statement game and Adam Morrison wasn't the one making it.

We are now in the area of loyalty for loyalty's sake. Bojack commented that the case is closed. That is certainly one way of putting it, but the case is never really closed in sports. I will continue supporting Adam Morrison and the Bobcats. This was a hobby for fun and I had a lot of laughs at the game. I mean it is sort of funny in a comedic way when someone gets schooled like this, even if that someone was me.

One observation: I thought back to seeing Larry Bird warm up and it was ridiculous. Bird sank 11 or 12 shots in a row and then the miss was when another teammate's shot careened off his. That's when it dawned on me how good some people are at shooting a basketball. If there's nobody guarding them, the shot usually goes in - at least for Larry Bird. When Adam warmed up some shots went in and some missed. It wasn't that freakish accuracy that Bird showed.

I also didn't see that cold assassin attitude Bird had. Given a night like this when the screen overhead seemed like a continuous promo for Brandon Roy as Rookie of the Year, Bird would have taken it much more personally than Adam Morrison did. Morrison seemed to take the first half off from the minute Aldridge swatted away his first shot.

The atmosphere in the Rose Garden was not that great. I mean it was downright sad. The game seemed insignificant for both teams and that was a little depressing. Oh for the glory days. Remember getting on a Tri-Met bus between playoff games and everybody on the bus was talking about it? Remember how hard it was just to wait for a couple of days till the next game?

This seems like a different time in history for both Portland and America. The NBA itself seems like it's in big trouble. Somebody do something magical again please. This was a situation begging for some dramatic shootout. Instead, the star of the night was LaMarcus Aldridge and he spent the last quarter on the bench.

After the game I chatted with Blazers PA announcer Mark Mason. At lunch yesterday I had said some things to him about wishing the Blazers had taken Morrison. I still do, but it was time to owe up. This might not have been the blunder I thought it was.

To get over to where Mark was booming away, closing up the night, I walked around the court right besides Aldridge who was being interviewed - I walked right past him. I was so close he could have reached his leg out and kicked me in the ass.

Adam Morrison Plays the Rose Garden

2007-03-01T17:12:00.001-08:00

The Charlotte Bobcats are in town and I'm going to go. I realize this is a little forced - my becoming a Bobcats fan - but it is up to each of us to get through the last years of the Bush administration anyway we can.

This started for me innocently enough just like those few years when I followed Duke basketball. Incidentally, that was also the Blazers fault. See, Coach Dunleavey's son was always in the sports pages during his high school years here so I wanted to see how he did at Duke. He did very well there, winning an NCAA championship. They even played here against Portland State - if you can believe that - and I went to that game as well. There's always a few players you start liking and they hold over so for a while I was a Duke fan. I admit it. I'm also happy to report that I'm over it now, and Coach K is once more a ferret-faced egomaniac who gets all the calls from the refs. Not really. Watching Coach K run his team at the Rose Garden was quite spectacular.

Look, I'm at the point in life where cynicism has set in. I no longer have all those glorious moments from sports like when I was young. Every now and then something happens - Boise State - that rekindles the joy of youth if only for a moment. It used to be different. Back in the Drexler era, my waiter buddies and I would sneak up to this International Club restaurant where we worked and turn on the big-screen TV. Man, when Clyde and the team scored we would run around the room like idiots. Those days are over.

So I'm working to keep the magic of sports and it is a little tougher now. And there are other reasons for tonight: One of bands I was in years ago, had a sax player who remains a great friend. To this day he plays the National Anthem at games around Spokane including down at Washington State where the Cougs are doing great this year in hoops. I was already following the shooting rivalry between JJ Redick and Adam Morrison and having my friend play at the Zags games sealed it.

We discussed how cool it would be if Morrison got drafted by the Blazers. My friend could come to Portland for a Blazers game - maybe even play the National Anthem here. None of this happened.

And it doesn't really matter. The Blazers picked someone else and that's fine. I just thought I'd turn it into a hobby to follow the Bobcats so I bought the cable sports package and it's been a lot of fun. I need more hobbies. I'm one of those people who lives a low-key, mellow life and I have to remind myself to have outings. The idea of watching the game here in my basement sounds really good right now, but instead, I will go to the Rose Garden and be one of those socially outgoing people I read about.

No matter what happens, I appreciate the Bobcats. Anything to endure the last few years of the Bush administration.

Groucho Offers Up a Legal Opinion

2007-03-01T14:46:00.000-08:00

The Undernews email today included a long letter to Warner Brothers written by Groucho Marx, after the Marx Brothers plan to release a movie called "A Night in Casablanca" was challenged. Here are 3 of the 8 paragraphs. Notice how you can't read them without hearing his voice:

I just don't understand your attitude. Even if you plan on releasing your picture, I am sure that the average movie fan could learn in time to distinguish between Ingrid Bergman and Harpo. I don't know whether I could, but I certainly would like to try.

You claim that you own Casablanca and that no one else can use that name without permission. What about "Warner Brothers"? Do you own that too? You probably have the right to use the name Warner, but what about the name Brothers? Professionally, we were brothers long before you were. We were touring the sticks as the Marx Brothers when Vitaphone was still a gleam in the inventor's eye, and even before there had been other brothers - the Smith Brothers; the Brothers Karamazov; Dan Brothers, an outfielder with Detroit; and "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?" . . .

I have a hunch that this attempt to prevent us from using the title is the brainchild of some ferret-faced shyster, serving a brief apprenticeship in your legal department. I know the type well - hot out of law school, hungry for success, and too ambitious to follow the natural laws of promotion. This bar sinister probably needled your attorneys, most of whom are fine fellows with curly black hair, double-breasted suits, etc., into attempting to enjoin us. Well, he won't get away with it! We'll fight him to the highest court! No pasty-faced legal adventurer is going to cause bad blood between the Warners and the Marxes. We are all brothers under the skin, and we'll remain friends till the last reel of "A Night in Casablanca" goes tumbling over the spool.

Sincerely,

Groucho Marx

UFOs: Finally Somebody Who Gets It

2007-03-01T09:27:00.000-08:00

Here's a link to a former official in the Canadian government talking about UFOs.

But wait, only people named Jethro living in a swamp believe in UFOs. And how come they don't just fly over Washington, D.C.? Answer: They did and it's on film.

There would be another benefit to releasing the truth: The ancient religions of the world would be exposed as myths(not yours, just everyone else's), and we might stop killing each other in the name of God.

I'll go even further: If this story is not true and the technology doesn't exist, we are probably doomed as a species. It would be great if we came up with it, but a little help wouldn't hurt either. (Projected comment: "You're the one who needs a little help, Bill. From a psychiatrist.")

UFO science key to halting climate change: former Canadian defense minister - Yahoo! News

Thanks, Mark and Dave

2007-02-28T14:33:00.000-08:00

Some people send thank-you notes. Others blog about it and hope the other party sees it. Thanks, Mark and Dave for lunch. You guys are great, and it was a lot of laughs. I especially appreciate Dave for getting to the dorky social move before I could. Normally, that's not easy. Here's what happened:

As I was approaching the restaurant I saw them inside through the window and Dave waved his arm at me. This knocked a drink over on a waitress's tray, getting her shirt wet. In the places I used to hang out, she would have won first prize.

Dave, thanks for taking the pressure off me since I'm usually the one who does something like that. Anyway, it's cool hearing actual radio voices in person and good luck with your show. Radio that isn't full of hate --- what a concept!

Abe Lincoln Speaks Out About President Bush

2007-02-28T07:20:00.000-08:00

The Nation has a great column by Eric Foner in its March 12th Issue, about the Conservatives' practice of using fake quotes from Abe Lincoln to prop up their disastrous foreign policy. Here's a little excerpt from Foner's column that shows how Honest Abe really felt:

Lincoln's record as a member of Congress during the Mexican War utterly refutes the conservative effort to appropriate his legacy. Lincoln was elected to the House of Representatives in 1846, shortly after President James Polk invaded Mexico when that country refused his demand to sell California to the United States. Polk falsely claimed that he was responding to a Mexican invasion.
Shortly before Lincoln's term in Congress began, he attended a speech in Lexington, Kentucky, by his political idol Senator Henry Clay. "This is no war of defense," Clay declared in a blistering attack on Polk, "but one of unnecessary and offensive aggression." A month later, Lincoln introduced a set of resolutions challenging Polk's contention that Mexico had shed American blood on American soil and voted for a statement, approved by the House, that declared the war "unnecessarily and unconstitutionally begun by the President."

Clay and Lincoln objected as strenuously as any member of Congress today to a war launched by a President on fabricated grounds. When Lincoln's law partner, William Herndon, defended the President's right to invade another country if he considered it threatening, Lincoln sent a devastating reply. Herndon, he claimed, would allow a President "to make war at pleasure. Study to see if you can fix any limit to his power in this respect.... If, to-day, he should choose to say he thinks it necessary to invade Canada, to prevent the British from invading us, how could you stop him?" The Constitution, he went on, gave the "war-making power" to Congress precisely to prevent Presidents from starting wars while "pretending...that the good of the people was the object."

13.) The Hitchhiking Years: The Stop in Eugene, Part 1

2007-02-27T11:13:00.000-08:00

So I left my future hometown of Portland and hitched south towards California. It was the Spring of 1972 and rock and roll was still young, but it had already changed the world. Over in Arabia we had waited breathlessly for any news. I would read the Rome Daily American, or the International Herald Tribune during the late 60s and any mention of the Beatles was like getting a message directly from heaven.

In those days Aramco families had a long vacation every 2 years to travel back to the States, and a short vacation in the other years usually spent in Europe. Yes, folks, it was quite an upbringing and I can still see images of my family trekking around some incredible locale. I'll tell you something that might sort of stun you: I remember being a small child walking across the tarmac towards a prop plane with three tail fins. One of those old Constellation airplanes that automatically mean you are watching an old movie.

When a kid brought back a record from the States it was a major event. Word spread throughout town. It was so exciting. I can literally remember where I was when I first heard Bob Dylan's "Like A Rolling Stone." God, what times.

I actually built my first electric guitar. I had this screwed up acoustic purchased in the local Arab village of Khobar so the plan was to buy the electronics which I did on a short vacation in Greece. The guitar was a complete disaster but it led to an actual electric from a catalog and by the time I was in 7th grade I was performing before crowds. I had better leave the details of this to another post, but there was one rock band a few years ahead, and they were probably the first rock band in the whole country. The lead singer whom I'll just call Mandis since he's not fond of his nickname, was a legend in my eyes. As a child I would stand outside this little building, just to hear these guys practice.

Part of the band I would eventually be in started with me and my friend Walker as guitarist and drummer. Then Walker joined 3 other guys and I was brought in later on bass. I don't care how many jokes I have on TV - I will always be a bass player at heart. It's my core identity. Anyway, my band would rise up and challenge the older group's reign. These were the best years - I should bag the hitchhiking stories and explore them, instead. Just imagine the scenario. We were kids living in Arabia so we had the adventure of that - the skin and scuba-diving, and the exploring of the Arab culture, and oh...one other thing...we were in the best rock and roll band in the country. You tell me that situation doesn't rule.

This is not to imply we were famous or anything - not even in those three oil towns. However, we meant a great deal to the partying American kids, and we were - dare I say it - beloved. You have to remember that being in a rock group was still a politically heroic thing to do. I challenge anyone to come up with a better scenario in history than this: Scruffy punks who could barely play 3 chords were looked upon as heroes, and I was part of it. One night on a band break a beautiful young fox took me out on the beach to make out, and when I told her I had to go back and play the next set, she resisted. It slowly dawned on me that she wanted me to stay a little longer just so people would see us walk back in together. I mean a few years earlier, I was too shy to talk to a girl, and now I was desirable? It was completely ridiculous and I knew it, but why fight it? How shy had I been? If it weren't for rock and roll, I'd still be a virgin.

Heartbreak befell Mandis, the lead singer in the other group as his family left the Kingdom, and he ended up in college in Eugene. There had been one magic Christmas vacation when the two rock bands combined, so I had played some fun gigs with him. Hitchhiking south from Portland, there was only one thing to do: Stop in Eugene, see Mandis, and play some rock and roll.

Building 7: Our National Cherry Tree

2007-02-27T09:39:00.000-08:00

I thought of an angle this morning on Building 7 and it goes back to the George Washington story of cutting down the cherry tree. George's father was furious. He saw the tree on the ground and wondered who had brought it down. Many looked at Building 7 and wondered who brought that down as well.

The official story is the building collapsed because it was badly damaged by the falling towers, and then later the fire. There is no dispute that the building was hit by debris although clear photographic evidence of the exact damage - for some reason - has not been produced. But let's say the bottom of the building on the side that got hit was gouged out. You know what? That's a lot like how you'd bring down a tree, isn't it? You go to a point a few feet off the ground and you start chopping away. Assuming the George Washington story is true, that's how he chopped down the cherry tree. The pressure builds where the missing wood is and the tree comes over.

Buildings have collapsed before. I've seen the pictures. They fall over towards where the failure point is, often remaining somewhat intact even after hitting the ground. Steel buildings have been on fire before, too, for as long as 24-hours. Before September 11th, no steel-framed building had ever collapsed because of fire. Building 7 did not look like it fell over from the damage to the base. It did not look like other collapsed buildings that really did fall over like a tree coming down. Building 7 looked very much like a controlled demolition.

One of the remarkable things about 9/11 was the speed in which certain information hit the news. Within days, we had a list of the hijackers. Then Atta's driver's license appeared on the streets of New York. Cynics have suggested there was an orchestrated manipulation of the press that week. If you are running a false flag operation, it is not enough to show the people something - you must also tell the people what they saw.

Yesterday the Internet was alive with this BBC archive news footage showing a news reporter announcing the collapse of Building 7 while it's clearly still standing in the background. Aaron Brown is also shown discussing the imminent collapse of the Building. EMTs are coming forward saying they were told it was about to go and to clear the area. The buildings owner is on tape talking about the decision to pull the building. Then the building comes down - quickly, neatly and directly into its own footprint.

This is our national cherry tree. George Washington could have said his tree had been damaged on one side and fell over, and it was. That's how George chopped it down. But if that cherry tree was in a pile of sawdust directly in its own footprint, George's Dad would have said, "There's no way a hatchet brought this down."

In the George Washington story, he says, "I cannot tell a lie" and confesses to his deed. I believe the official story of Building 7 is a lie, and the proof is right there for any reasonable person to observe. This is our national cherry tree, but instead of George Washington who could not tell a lie, we have George Bush and the Neo-Cons in his administration - and they can't stop lying.