Did I Hear the President Say How Great Margaret Thatcher Was Lately??

I don't know why it took me so long to connect these two, but I finally did. It's looking more and more that what Margaret Thatcher did in imprisoning Irish dissidents in the H-Blocks, is now happening in Guantanamo Bay. Only this time it's not the British running the show.

There are some differences and nuances which make the two appear to be unrelated, and the Americans are force feeding the hunger strikers (by forcibly placing tubes in their noses in order to MAKE them eat), the results are similar. I recall many throughout the world disgusted with what was happening with the prisoners right outside of Belfast.

Lately I've been hearing similar grumblings here in the US and abroad. After half hearted attempts to close Guantanamo went nowhere, folks are getting fed up with watching the 160 (or so) men still there endure being imprisoned for over 10 years without being charged with a crime. 6 of these folks have already succeeded in taking their own lives.

I don't think the government wants the kind of bad PR that Britain had in the 70's and 80's, or do they? It's kind of confusing really. You always hear politicians spouting off about the "allies" we can count on, but it's looking like those days are coming to an end. I'm thinking that the black eye the US is getting from Guantanamo, will soon be worse than the world view of the Thatcher administration in 1982.

Hill Country Farms and Their Slave Labor

Yesterday, I put up a link which talks about Hill Country Farms, and their abuse of the developmentally disabled people who work there. A link to someone else's article doesn't quite do it for me. I decided to do some research into the situation to see if I could find out more. After all, DAWG Oregon would not exist without the inspiration I get from this class of folks.

Their own "description" of what they call a "program" can be traced back to 1980, where on page 3 of a booklet they had produced, it says the "description" was based on materials gotten from the staff, as well as the observations of the author. Next, I found out there is not just 1 farm in Texas, but they also have farms in Iowa, South Carolina, Kansas, and Missouri. Another discrepency I came up with, is that it's not just 37 men involved, but 132! Big difference....

In their "description" of their "program", they tell us "These sites also have bunkhouse facilities, which include modern kitchens and recreational areas". Yet, in another article we're told they had to close down the "bunkhouse" in Iowa because investigators found substandard construction and other unsafe living conditions, a leaky roof and insect infestation. It gets worse.

In addition to the workers being paid substandard wages, hit by fellow employees, called names, confined to rooms, denied bathroom breaks and prevented from seeking medical attention, the EEOC's lawsuit, alleges that the men faced a hostile work environment, harassment, verbal abuse and other "adverse terms and conditions of employment" because of their disabilities. Many of these men had worked for $65 per month over the course of 30 years. Can you believe that? For the life of me, I can't figure out how they got away with this...

Modern day serfs you ask? Exactly! Because the owners of these farms, Kenneth Henry and Jane Ann Johnson found the perfect way to take advantage of other people to meet their own greedy, illegal, and hurtful desires. I don't believe that any amount of money makes up for the crimes they committed!

And Now Ladies and Gentlemen... The Newses!!

There is definitely more than one news. First you have the mainstream news. These are 3 stories done today by the local news team from channel 12 (FOX) here in Portland. Obie The Dachshund to Undergo Surgery , Man Lost Life Savings Trying to Win Xbox, and Law Enforcement Recruits Prepare and Train For Busy Water Season. I also was treated to the weather and traffic every 12 (get it? KPTV 12) minutes.

In order to get my blood pressure back to normal and slow down my pulse after watching, I changed the channel to Free Speech TV where Democracy NOW!! was on. I saw these reports there.
Bolivia Orders Expulsion of USAID,
Disabled Turkey Plant Workers Awarded $240 Million in Damages for Abuses, Discrimination, and
Muslim Taxi Driver, Iraq War Veteran Accuses Aviation Exec of Assault, Hate Crime. But they seemed to refuse to give me the weather or traffic.

Amazing what you find on the different newses, aint it?

You Find The Darndest Things Online!

No kidding! I just found this online! It's the actual transcript of the Due Process Hearing for my nephew where my wife and I represented him vs. Portland Public Schools back in 2001. This is one of the crowning achievements of my life, and it's online for the whole world to see! It's extremely lengthy, so unless you have a legalistic mind, or are just plain curious, it may not be up your alley. We won!!

http://www.ode.state.or.us/services/disputeresolution/dueprocess/dp-00-134.pdf

A Visit To West, Texas

I've never been a big fan of the state of Texas. In fact, right here on this blog I took a shot at them back in August of last year. http://dawgoregon.blogspot.com/2012/08/why-i-hate-texas.html
But I've come here today not to bury Texas (or praise them either), but to say I can understand why they are so pissed off with the rest of the country.

If an entire town was blown up (like West, Texas) in my state, and the national media payed as little attention to that town compared to big 'ol Boston, I'd be pissed off too! Sure, they have loud mouthed Rick Perry as governor, and the president doesn't like him, but does that justify not even GOING THERE to grieve with the citizens?? It's been 8 days since the explosion, and he still hasn't gone there!

I read today that he plans to stop by either tonight or tomorrow for a memorial service, but was SCHEDULED to be in Texas to raise money for the Democratic Party http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/22/obama-west-texas_n_3132941.html and to be a part of the dubious dedication of George Bush's spankin' new Library anyway. http://act.rootsaction.org/p/dia/action/public/?action_KEY=7792

God! These people and their willingness to look the other way when called upon to do what they were elected to do! Anyway, I'm glad I'm not from Texas, for several reasons. And if the people who live in Texas want to distance themselves from the rest of America, I for one, don't blame them.

They Did It!! (part ll)

The more I think about what I merely BEGAN to write about yesterday, the more questions and observations come to mind. Answers and thoughts are most welcomed, however you choose to comment...

1.) Whatever became of the carjacking victim? No follow-up interviews, no requests for interviews that were denied, even because the FBI isn't allowing it?

2.) What about the rest of the citizenry? As the governor of Massachusetts reported on Face the Nation this morning, "millions" of people in the greater Boston area were locked down from Thursday night until sometime Friday afternoon. I find it would be impossible for there to not be any resistance to the order, people arrested or harassed for refusing to comply, people not allowing police entry to their homes. Why haven't we heard from anyone who resisted or was detained and had any trouble with police?

3.) Why was the stay-indoors "request" lifted before the suspect was apprehended? If you are going to lockdown a city for the reasons stated it makes no sense to lift that lockdown before you have the suspect in custody. Either that, or, you've realized that locking down an entire city to apprehend one suspect never made any sense in the first place?

4.) Where were Boston's homeless during the lock down? Were they given homes at last, or were homeless camps rifled through and people swept off the streets and out of the city by the "authorities" and we just didn't hear about it? If I were on the run, I think I might consider hiding out in a homeless camp.

5.) Why the hell is Wolfe Blitzer still on the air?

None of this makes sense. I've seen action movies with stronger plot lines.

They Did It!!

How many times must Americans be reminded that the modus operendus of today is that of a football game. Seems like they just fell for one of the oldest plays in the sport. The "End Around" has just played out in the media with the desired results. America fell asleep (once again) praising their own country while the REAL SHIT escaped without ever hitting the fan! That's what the Boston Bomb All-The-Time news has accomplished.

While people have actually been pleased with the shutting down of a city, to find and arrest 1 person, they magically seemed to forget about the proposed Social Security cuts getting ready to go into effect. These cuts will surely cause the deaths of thousands of seniors, people with disabilities, and others who depend on this money! We don't care, they got the bad guy.

Then you have the CISPA fiasco http://rt.com/usa/congress-house-bill-cispa-031/, which people would have been up in arms about, if they weren't clapping and saluting the people who made the arrest. Pay attention sheep...err... people! Big Brother is watching...

Finally we have the (much larger) explosion that occurred in West, Texas, which has claimed the lives of at least 35 people (including 10 first responders), with at least 160 injured and many left homeless. Did you forget about that? http://www.cnn.com/2013/04/18/us/texas-explosion
Of course there's no need to shut down the city to find those responsible. There IS NO TOWN to lock down any more!

Everything Is NOT Jake

HOMELESSNESS SUCKS!! Glad I got that off my chest. I hope I said it loudly, and strongly enough.

Last night Suzanne and I watched the film "Everything's Jake". To say we were "disappointed" in it would be a large understatement. It's more like "Why are these people trying to bullshit the public"? The movie was supposedly about a happy-go-lucky homeless guy teaching a newbie on the streets the intricacies on being homeless, and how to enjoy the experience.

30 years ago I moved to Portland with virtually no supporting resources. Being 27, I believed I'd be fine. Uh uh... I was not fine. I too ran into a savvy homeless character, who was kind enough to teach me how to survive. I wrote about our relationship on this blog 3 years ago. http://dawgoregon.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-friend-marvin.html
Upon reading the post, I think it's clear that the experience I had was anything but pleasant.

If their misrepresentation of homelessness wasn't bad enough, their story line was possibly even worse. They are telling us how Jake (the happy homeless man) plays bongos on the street to get enough money to buy food and keep cardboard over his head in New York City. Granted, the film was made in 2000, but not much has changed in 13 years in the NYC homeless scene. It's a dirty, dangerous existence for the 50,000 plus people living out there. He also spent much of his time playing chess with his alcoholic peer, who obviously also experienced mental health issues. When Ernie Hudson (the actor who played Jake) was interviewed about the film on The View, http://www.everythingsjakefilm.com/view/ he said he was trying to live the homeless life for 4 days, but could only do it for a few hours.

Then you have the other guy; an Englishman who was somewhat picky about his life of homelessness. He slept in trees in the park, hiding from what they called "The night patrol". When Jake showed him how to eat from garbage cans (I've been there, done that), the fellow couldn't bring himself to join in. As if he actually HAD A CHOICE! He was able to pick up rich people's dog shit and charge them $5 for doing so... yeah right.

Here's where it got REALLY weird. Toward the end of the film we find out the Englishman was only faking homelessness! In reality he's an author who takes on various characterizations to write about the experiences. Darn!; they had me fooled. And guess what? Jake had at least $10,000 hidden away! Those rascals! They only pretended to be homeless, so they could have fun on the streets! It was all a joke! And neither one knew about the other!

That movie is a joke. Although there were scenes where they showed some pain involved in being homeless, for the most part it was STUPID! My concern is that there are some people who probably believe other people become homeless on purpose. Believe me. They don't.

"Back" Again, So Soon?

Today I'm going to write about something very personal, that I've been hoping would eventually go away. It hasn't. What I'm writing about is my failing health. I know there's other folks out there with similar situations, and I hope this is helpful to you too.

I have to go back in time, around 35 years, to give you the full scope of how my health problems began. When I was 19 years old, I was in a bad car accident. A carload of friends, including myself, had a head on accident with an extremely large tree. I was in the back seat and smashed head first into the seat in front of me. I broke my nose, and my upper front teeth came all the way through my bottom lip. Though I didn't realize it at the time, I also messed up my neck. Some of the other kids in the car were hurt much worse than me. One girl was in a coma for around 2 months, so who was I to complain?

10 years later, I began my career working with people having developmental disabilities. I was in pretty good shape, so transferring folks from wheelchair to various tables, toilets, and chairs was no big deal (so I thought). I was always one of the stronger people in my different jobs, so I'd inevitably be counted on to lift more than my co-workers. It was what it was. Sometimes, when you lift dead weight, like another human being, they will tend to slip out of your hands, and I'm extremely proud that I never let one person fall. I had no idea at the time, the price my back was paying. That's the type of work I did for the next 25 years.


Eventually, I began having less lifting, as part of my work day, but it was too late. My back began bothering me. It's hard to point at exactly when it started, but I would say it was 7 or 8 years ago. At the time I was involved in installing portable (yeah, right) air conditioners in the homes of people with disabilities. One day, as I was installing my third air conditioner of the day, I felt something tingling then hurting in my lower back. When I tried to get out of bed the following morning, I realized I was truly injured. I stayed in bed for 3 days, before I was able to get up and move.

Slowly my back began to feel better, so I didn't go to the doctor. Big mistake! Within a few weeks the pain was back, and I was forced to go. They recommended some stretches and exercises, but they didn't do much to help, so I stopped after a month or so. I began hoping that with rest, and being careful, my back would get better on its' own. No such luck. Now I'm at the point where in order to do the dishes, sweep the floors, cut grass, or go up and down the stairs to do laundry must be done in 10 minute shifts. It's frustrating, but there's shit I gotta do!

Will my back ever get better? Highly doubtful at this stage of the game. I'm getting older, and doing the simplest of tasks has become a burden. If only... If only I'd taken better care of my body, instead of using it as a work tool. If only I'd started with some serious rehab. sooner. If only I'd paid better attention to the signals my body was trying to send me... I'm pretty sure it's not. My looming question? What do you do at 57 for work when you can't do what you've done for the past 27 years??

Be Happy This Easter

I know it's Easter, but I can't help it if we just finished watching a documentary titled "American Winter". Being as it was filmed in Portland by HBO, I figured I'd give it a quick review while it's still fresh in my mind. As usual, I only talk about timely movies. This one's REAL timely!

The film is about 8 families who have called 211 ( like a 911 for social services) due to unforeseen economic circumstances this past winter. It's very upsetting to see people moving into homelessness in the place you live. It's a gradual process beginning with the loss of a job. There's been a lot of that going around in the past few years, and Suzanne and I have experienced it first-hand.

We used to feel pretty secure, with a combined income of around 50-55 thousand per year. Now we're getting near the end of all forms of savings, unemployment insurance, and retirement money, but I don't want to talk about us. We've yet to get to the place these other folks found themselves. We haven't faced eviction, our chidren are grown, haven't had the electricity turned off, and so far we still have water. We'r e a step up from these other folks.

I was taken by the words spoken by the people who have a solid understanding of what poverty means. Their fears not only for themselves, but also for others really touched me. Watching as they slowly went under with what was described as a shredded safety net was just plain frightening. I sure hope we wake up here in Portland/America, sooner than later, and see that we are all in this together. And I don't mean to throw a wet balnket on your Easter festivities, but I'm reminded today that poverty knows no holiday.

"Throw the Little Sh!t in Jail!!"

Today is as good a time as any to talk about the Prison Industrial Complex as it pertains to children. Ted Koppel did a report on "Children in Adult Prisons" for 60 Minutes on Sunday, which caused me some great concern. I want to explore the idea here on my blog.

It was reported that there are at least 100,000 minors currently incarcerated in adult prisons. They are kept primarily in solitary confinement as a means to "protect them from the adult predators", who are also incarcerated. They usually have violent tendencies, so locking them up by themselves is best for all involved. Really? Being isolated at 15 or 16 is somehow good for a kid? I don't think so.

Many of these children develop psychoses which stay with them for the rest of their lives. Nothing good about that! They are often undiagnosed AT ALL until they begin to unravel in their cells. In effect, we are adding to whatever problems they may have had, which brought them to prison in the first place. Once they have served out their sentence, they are released back into the community, in worse shape than they were years earlier. Sounds like a lose/ lose proposition to me,

Many people would argue that we're safer with these young Frankensteins behind bars, but I disagree. Especially when you consider someone who does 30 years, leaves prison as a 45 to 50 year old. Now you have someone whose age and strength are ideal (to go along with their screwed up heads) to re offend, released back into the community. That seems like creating a long term problem in exchange for a quick fix.

I believe that (once again) the REAL problem lies in the lack of political will to DO THE RIGHT THING for ALL the people in America. That is to make sure that love and compassion take the lead in the decisions made that effect ALL the people in America. Yes, that means fewer millionaires along with a healthy society. Are ya wimme or aggin me?

Closet Nazis

There are a lot of Nazis that read my blog. They think that because they are self described Liberals that they can fake me out, but they can’t. I know that they have a deep seated hatred for people with developmental disabilities, but they’d never admit to that.

Instead they read what I’m currently writing about, hoping that I’ll say some strange things that will allow them to see me as a side show. I’ll gladly give them what they want...

Abortion is bad. 90% of fetuses who have the Down Syndrome chromosome are aborted each year. There is currently a lot of money going into research to find a way to predict if a child will be Autistic when they get older. Then these babies can also be aborted. The closet Nazis like this idea, though they’ll never admit it (except in thought).

Death With Dignity is bad. The number one reason given for assisted suicide is not wanting to be a burden on loved ones. Number two is not wanting to suffer the indignity of disability. Compassion & Choices (the Hemlock Society) wants you to believe it’s fear of pain. That’s not true, but there are many who choose to believe it is. DWD/Managed Care has also given Support Teams the impetus to withhold treatment from people with developmental disabilities, causing premature death.

Am I a right winged nut case for making these statements? Nope. I’m a card carrying Socialist who cares about these people, and wants to stop the closet Nazis from killing them.

Why Should I Comply??

Last night Suzanne and I watched a film called "Compliance". It was disturbing on a few different levels, but I want to write about the social implications I got out of it. The way it’s described on Netflix is… “Based on a true incident, this tense drama unfolds as a prank caller pretends to be a cop and convinces a restaurant manager to interrogate her teenaged employee about a supposed theft from a customer -- a situation that soon spins out of control.”

 

The “cop” mentioned above uses his authority to get the manager of the fast food joint to do his bidding, by manipulating her into seeing him as a major authority figure. He does the same thing with all the people he speaks with on the phone. Even the girl who is in fact, the victim of this prank becomes (as if hypnotized) convinced by him that she should “comply” with what he wants to happen. This smells of what you see in the USA right now, in regard to the “WAR ON TERROR” and the threat of “MUSHROOM CLOUDS” spoken of repeatedly in the buildup of the military activities in the Mideast. Keep in mind where she is in the power structure of a fast food joint.

 

There is a boy (peer) who also works at the restaurant who shows enough doubt about the cop’s authority, as to be eliminated from the fiasco altogether, after a little involvement. He represents to me someone who is beginning to question authority, but doesn’t exactly buck the system either. He left it to others. Man, do I know a LOT of people like him! They are unwilling to act when they see something that is obviously wrong to them. These folks are full of fear. Like a big part of the population in America.

 

The girl allows these restaurant workers to strip search her, and she spends most of the movie naked beneath an apron. To me, her clothes represent a shield, and without them she becomes completely powerless. It’s not unlike what you see in this country, when people have their rights, finances, and safety net taken away. They give up fighting altogether, and give in to the wishes of the people “in charge”. Are you with me so far?

 

Next we have the fiancé of the manager called into action. He does some very outrageous stuff to the girl, half drunk and confused. He (and all the others) is directed by the cop to call the authority figure “sir”, which he automatically does. When he completes his assigned tasks, he’s obviously ashamed of himself, and hastily exits. What I read into this is the shame and embarrassment many people feel when they realize they have been duped by the media who have been duped by corporate money. They simply stop participating, and stick their heads in the sand.

 

Finally, the janitor saves the day. He lacks the intelligence needed to allow the cop to continue, and brings the whole thing to a screeching halt. As a janitor you’re usually looked upon as someone who will do what they’re told. The truth is that he had very little to lose by his refusal to participate, as well as some good old common sense. This also sounds like people I know. I have several Facebook “friends” who have little more than a computer, a voice, working fingers, and feet that can get them around. They speak up about injustice with the knowledge that they may be seen as “TERRORISTS” for telling it like it is. I probably fit in with this group the best.

 

You may think what I’ve described could never really happen. According to the folks who made the flick, it happened 70 times over a 30 day span. That’s not my point. I think it is an excellent example of how people can be used, manipulated, and abused by people they trust to care about them.

Ireland With Viv

In 1979 I was 23 years old. That was the year I went with my Mom on a trip to Ireland. Here's that story.

It was the end of Summer, and my Mom, Tom Kelly, and I were enjoying a barbecue in Mom's back yard. It had been a beautiful day, and as the sun began to set, Mom started telling us a story. She spoke of her own mother who had come to the US from Ireland earlier in the century. I believe it was in the 1915ish years.

Every day grandma would cry over missing her homeland. She had accepted her new home (she met my grandpa on the boat on the way over), but  couldn't avoid the call of the Emerald Isle to return, if only for a visit. Next thing I know my Mom starts to cry, telling us she had made a promise to her mother that she didn't keep. She promised her that she would take grandma back for a visit. Said she was just about my age when she made the promise, and then she met my dad, got married, had 4 children, and failed to come through. Grandma died when I was about 7 or so.

At this point the 3 of us were teary as I tried to console her. I told her I was sure her mother understood, but Mom felt bad about it none the less. At that point Tom (who was very close to my Mom) came up with the idea that maybe I could take Mom to visit Ireland myself! Summer was all but over, and my job working in a disco with Tom was virtually done, so why not? When I committed to going Mom's tears stopped flowing, and she became very excited. We'd fly to London, visiting with my brother Terry for a few days before heading over to Ireland. What a great idea!

We left Southampton (NY) a few weeks later, flying over to England. Terry was living in a communal setting at the time, and was able to hook us up with comfortable if not classic accommodations. We tripped around London for a few days (I believe we saw A Chorus Line on stage in the West End), and had a wonderful time hanging out with Terry and his friends. After that we flew to Shannon Airport outside of Dublin, rented a car, and began our trek to Aughnacliffe (pronounced Au-cnah-cliff) in the county Longford.

Driving was nuts with Mom! She was constantly worried that we were going to crash, driving on the left and all. And every time we'd get out of the car to eat or pee, etc. she'd walk back with the notion that she'd get in on the passenger side, which was in fact, the driver's side. Though the scenery was beautiful along the way, I was overjoyed when we reached our final destination. Now I could relax without someone screaming in my ears.

We stayed at my cousin Shawn's house, where Mom's second cousin Bridget lived.  Shawn ran the meat market, so every day we'd have the freshest delicious meats that his wife Margo cooked to perfection. It was a very tiny town. There was a Catholic church, a small grocer, a pub, the meat market, and very little else. It was kind of like going back in time to the 1800's. Mom loved it! She'd spend the days chatting with Bridget (around the same age) about relatives and various things her mom had talked about to her. We took a ride to the house my grandmother was born in almost 100 years earlier. That was a bit strange.

My mother's first cousin lived there. When we went inside it was pitch black, and I remember a black cat curled up in front of an old stone fireplace, with a fire going. My aunt was far from being a jolly Irish woman. In fact she made me feel like we were inconveniencing her with our presence. Bridget had told us she might not be the friendliest person, and she was right! I took some pictures inside and out, and we got out of there pretty quickly. I felt like we'd been in a witch's house.

Anyway, we went to a dance where I figured out there's very little difference between American Country Music, and Popular Irish Music. Church was especially fun. Long and drawn out services that lasted for what seemed like forever, followed by (seriously!) a race to the pub up the street. While the women were at home fixing an early Sunday dinner after 1 pint, the men were all slamming several pints of Guiness at the pub!

As our trip slowly came to an end, I began to feel a lot of sadness about my aging mother, and all she'd been through in her life. I did manage to find some solace in knowing I'd done something for my mother that she was unable to do for her own. When I dropped her off at the airport (I stayed behind and went back to London for a year) we thanked each other profusely. She for having a wish fulfilled for her and her mother, and me for having such a great Mom of my own.

Let's Take a Ride!

The more I try to make sense of this particular concept, the more confused I become. I'm hoping that writing about it will assist me, and am inviting you along for the ride. So strap yourselves in and smoking's ok. Just crack the window.

If 5% of Americans can be labeled "rich", the other 95% can be called "not rich". If that's the case, why do so many of the 95% see it as important to protect the 5%? I see this on a regular basis among friends on Facebook, and it drives me crazy! It happens in politics on all governmental levels. It's as if the 5% has hypnotized folks into believing their job is to protect them from any form of criticism.

Maybe it has to do with people hoping they will someday crack the 5% themselves, and are covering their asses proactively? Or could it be (as I was told recently) that "there's no crime in being successful", as if that's the reason the rich are rich. The truth is that a vast majority of these people were rich BEFORE they were even born. They were born into wealth. And if not, they were given a lot of help to get rich along the way.

Very few of these people ever had to bust their asses to be where they are. They may have busted other people's asses to get there, but theirs are without a bruise. It could be that many not-rich people have been busting their own asses all their lives for the few crumbs they've gotten as a reward. Now they hope that it all hasn't been in vane.

Well, that's our final destination for now. I hope you've found something to help you with your own questions and opinions. Before exiting, please return your seat to the upright position, and have a nice day.

RIP Hugo, The "R"Word, and Alvin

Things seem to be coming at/to me in 3's these days. Not sure what that's about, but I 'll go with it. Today I want to write about 3 things that I believe are very important.

Hugo Chavez died yesterday. If you pay attention to main stream media you may see that as something positive. I don't. Hugo was a hero to me and millions of others who believe what's happening in the world with greed is bullshit. He fought for his country and all impovershed people throughout the world for a better place to live.

Today was the international day to spread the word to end the word. The word that is spoken of is "retarded". If the people who use this word so loosely were able to see the number of people it hurts, they might be able to bring anoother kind of death to it.

Finally, I think of the rock musician Alvin Lee; another of my heros. He wrote of the sickness that has been , and continues to hurt ALL OFF US today. He hated war and wrote "I'd Love To Change The World" back in the late 60's, which continues to be an important song today.

May all of these 3 thoughts find their way to graves that bring us all together.

Red Carpet, Beyond the Gates, and 60 Minutes

Today I'm officially 57 years old! Never, in my wildest imaginings did I see myself alive at 57. I still find it hard to believe that I made it this far! But what I want to write about today, is not about my birthday, it's about my final day of being 56.

Yesterday was very interesting. From 4:00 PM until I awakened at 4:30 AM this morning. At 4 yesterday afternoon I sat on the couch in our living room and turned on the TV. It's something I do most days. The TV was tuned to the "Red Carpet" part of the Academy Award proceedings, so I decided to check it out. Mind blowing!

The co hosts were on some kind of a rooftop looking down on the Hollywood stars as they appeared. Then the show would swoop down to interviews with the stars; mostly about their attire. These people are (I'm convinced) so full of themselves, that they've crossed over into sheer clinical Narcissism! Posing with their Gucci dresses and handbags, like they were God's gifts to humanity. And when they spoke... It was so forced and phony, that I could only watch the show for 15 minutes, before I left... thoroughly disgusted.

At that point I though it wise to watch something a bit more "human", so I put on a movie I'd copied on my DVR some time back. The title is "Beyond the Gates", and it's a film about the genocide that occurred in Rwanda in 1994. How the UN "Peacekeepers" all but deserted the Tsutsis as they were murdered by Hutus with machetes and clubs. It was pretty upsetting until the very end, when it was revealed that several actors in the film were survivors of the genocide. They told you exactly what these people had lost, and I in turn "lost it" myself... crying for the next 10 minutes.

When I'd finally composed myself, I looked back at the TV, which was showing the most recent episode of 60 Minutes. Scott Pelley was interviewing this guy who wrote the scandalous book about killing Bin Laden a few years back. If I ever have to bat at softball again, I want old Scott to be the pitcher. It was indeed a surreal interview with the story becoming more UNbelievable at each turn. In the end, back on set, they talked about how "angry" the military is at this author for betraying state secrets, that they may sue him! While Bradley Manning rots away in prison (for being accused of doing the same thing) for over 1000 days, they are considering suing this clown. Alrighty...

Finally went to bed, exhausted by 8:00. Had several symbolic dreams... I was flying with an old crow which was the same size as me. I went to a place where there were "Hagots" and "Hurgs". They were 2 separate groups of people with the Hagots being deemed the superior group. I woke up at 11:59, knowing I was from neither group, and my job was to teach them that neither are they. Later I woke up saying out loud "trust" 4 times. I also was in a shallow river where the rocks on the bottom hurt my feet. I got out rather than continuing to hurt them. 3 or 4 others I was with continued in the shallow river. I ended up waking for good with the knowledge that THIS YEAR would lead me to a place I've never been. Wild, huh?

How Dare I Ask For TRUTH??

 

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” Martin Luther King Jr.

I used to have a wonderful career working with people who have developmental disabilities. I’m not sure exactly why I loved my work as much as I did, and I’m not sure why I felt it was the most important work that I could do, but I did. Something that always seemed to be the MOST important part of the work for me was watching for abuse and neglect of care for folks who could often not speak for themselves.

I honestly believe that the end of my career came back in 2007, when I asked a question regarding the accountability for the abuse and neglect of folks as reported in The Oregonian newspaper. I became a “persona non grata” in the field because I wanted to know the truth. What follows is how it all panned out. I know it’s a lot to read, but I also know it’s well worth it.

Back on November 11th of 2007 I sent out the email below. This was in response to an Oregonian article highlighting horrific behaviors of people paid to protect folks with developmental disabilities in our state.

I was (and continue to be) very concerned that the accountability for these actions was being placed on the abusers, while the higher-ups in the system who run things and are paid to know what’s going on, were all but ignored. I believed then, as I do now, that what is needed is a Legislative Hearing to see if there was a cover up to preserve people’s jobs, rather than expose the truth to the light of day.

I sent this email to Tim Krall of The Oregon Association of Rehabilitation, Bob Joondeph of Oregon Advocacy Center, James Toewes of Seniors and People with Disabilities, Tina Kitchen of the Department of Human Services, Bill Lynch of the Oregon Council on Developmental Disabilities, and the Oregon Network through the DD Coalition. All these folks held the answers to questions that needed to be answered.

I also cc’d the letter to State Representatives Mary Nolan and Tina Kotek, along with Senators Avel Gordly, David Nelson, and Margaret Carter. I sent a copy to Bruce Goldberg, Director of DHS, and about 100 community members. My hope in doing that was I believed the letter might stir them to action. To the best of my knowledge I was wrong in both my hope and belief. In fact, I never heard back from any of these people regarding my letter.

We are living in a state where both accountability and transparency are virtually nonexistent. The people in Oregon are so concerned with not upsetting the apple cart (status quo), that they’d rather allow domestic violence, financial exploitation, medical neglect, and the abuse of developmentally disabled citizens to have gone unchecked than to seek accountability. That disturbs me to no end. And whoever reads this... what expectations do you have of those charged with protecting our most vulnerable? Is it ok with you that we just “move forward” without seeing why things went wrong in the first place, in order to TRULY move forward in a sane way? Are Oregonians in fact, cowards?
----------------------------------------

11/11/07

Dear Advocates,

We are nearing the end of the week following the article in Sunday’s Oregonian regarding the abuse, neglect, and exploitation of people with developmental disabilities who were deinstitutionalized in Oregon. I want to be perfectly clear that I believe people with disabilities should never have been forced to live in institutions, but it's equally clear that Oregon has not held up its end of the bargain. I continue to Google “abuse neglect Oregon” searching for some kind of statement by any, some, or all of you. I’ve found none. The closest I’ve come to finding anything at all about this issue is a letter to the editor of the Oregonian from Tim Kral, which I’ll address further in this email. The people I’ve cc’d have been sent this in order to have as broad a conversation as possible.

The article itself speaks volumes. The quotes from some of you raise questions that I will ask here. Feel free to leave me without the answers, which is customary in the culture of secrecy that is the developmental disability system in Oregon. The reason for this email is to begin an honest assessment of where we are in Oregon around the issues brought up in Michele Roberts’ article. Any enlightenment or clarification any of you might share with me is most welcomed.

The first most glaring question is who of you knew about the extent of the abuse and neglect prior to the interviews and ensuing article?

Since the data goes back to 2000, what actions did you take to remedy the situation PRIOR to the article?

What actions have been taken since the article?

Who wrote the Oregon Network’s bulletin of 3/26/07 with the talking points about how well the people from Fairview are doing living in the community?

Was the writer(s) aware of what the truth is when that bulletin went out?

Why is there no mention of this travesty on the DD Coalition/Oregon Network website?

Were negligent homicide or criminal neglect charges ever discussed or filed by any of you who knew about the David Pape/Natasha Thomas death?

Did any of you question the change of the Cause of Death from drowning to pneumonia?

Did any of you know Pape was being paid $18,000 per month for running his foster home?

I knew Paul Crawford. He was a very warm and outgoing man. In my last job I worked closely with one of his roommates from Rainbow. This man has some serious behavioral issues. I guess it was the staff I used to meet with monthly who were given the $5000 worth of “bonuses” his mother intended for the residents.

Were they ever required to return their “bonuses” to Paul’s mother?

Were any of his group home staff charged with anything?

Dr. Kitchens, do you REALLY believe that if someone vomits a black-colored substance that “most people” wouldn’t recognize it as possibly being blood, and take action?

Do you also really believe that the delay of getting the right language into a document relieves DHS of responsibility for immediately implementing a mandatory 911 training for caregivers?

Does anyone believe that Paul lying in a bed full of feces, vomit and urine; with enough urine on the floor to make someone almost slip is not criminal, but is what you’d expect from most people in the same situation?

If his workers were found to be responsible for his death, why were they still working at that home in 2006? The three I’m familiar with were all there longer than 3 years.

Mr. Lynch, you are quoted as saying; “It’s a tragedy. We really need to turn this around. This goes well beyond embarrassment”.

Why are you embarrassed?

Did you not know about this systemic travesty prior to Ms. Roberts talking to you?

You now have a state email address. Are you an employee of the state?

Why is there no mention of this travesty on the OCDD website?

Mr. Toews, you are quoted as saying; “We’ve tried to approach how we safely support people with pretty complex needs. We’ve done as good if not a better job than most states on trying to drill down on that”.

Is it not true that when I contacted you in regard to a grievance against Multnomah County staff about a profoundly developmentally disabled woman last year, you allowed them to circumvent the Oregon Administrative Rules?

Was that “drilling down” on safely supporting her needs?

Are you afraid that now that the truth has been told, Oregon will not be looked upon as the model state you often talk about?

Why is there no mention of this travesty on the DHS website?

Mr. Joondeph, did you tell Ms. Roberts that both you personally, and Oregon Advocacy Center investigate abuse and neglect allegations?

How many do you personally investigate each year?

Did you tell Ms. Roberts the County licenses foster homes, when in reality the state does that job?

Did you tell her county case managers do investigations, when in reality Protective Services and your agency does that job?

Does OAC plan to file a class action against the state which will prevent INDIVIDUALS from stepping forward to sue?

If so, does OAC plan to settle out of court?

If so, will it result in agreeing to wait for reform?

If so, will OAC set up an Ombudsman program as part of that settlement?

Would that expand your powers in Oregon?

Why is there no mention of this travesty on the OAC website?

Mr Kral, in your letter to the editor of the Oregonian you wrote “The Oregon Rehabilitation Association represents community nonprofit organizations providing group homes”.

How many of these organizations does ORA represent?

You mentioned that ORA “supports immediate steps to enhance the care and living conditions of individuals with disabilities.”

As the “representative,” is it not your place to "demand" rather than "support"?

Was there a step ORA could have taken when the Legislature only gave DD Services 20 million instead of the 65 million dollars originally requested of them last year?

Why did you fail to mention that in your letter?

Did you mention the abuse and neglect travesty when you made your request?

Would that step have assisted you in enhancing the care and living conditions of people with disabilities?

You wrote that wages for group home workers are low. Is that also the case for group home representatives such as ORA?

Why is there such a disparity?

You said turnover is high with group home staff. Is the same true with representatives?

Why is that not the same?

How much time do you actually spend with the individuals living in these group homes?
You wrote that workers in group homes need to be more accountable. To whom do they need to be more accountable?

Do representatives such as ORA, OAC, OCDD, The Oregon DD Coalition, and DHS need to be more accountable?

Finally, you wrote that “the vast majority of former Fairview residents have enjoyed a much higher quality of life since leaving.”

I don’t believe that this “glass is 4/5 full” philosophy makes one bit of difference to the 1 in 5 who have been seriously abused and/or neglected. If you look at the numbers closely, nearly 50% have had abuse and or neglect charges substantiated, with many more alleged. I’m certain that being in the community beats being at Fairview, but by how much when you run this high a risk of being abused and/or neglected?

Who exactly are ORA’s state partners?

Did DHS hide the data around abuse and neglect or did no one ask?

Are you an employee of the state?

Why is there no mention of this travesty on the ORA website?

These questions are hard. I am well aware of that. However, in light of the article written by Michelle Roberts, I believe hard questions need to be asked. My questions are not “personal attacks”. They are, in fact, questions that need to be answered if system reform is to occur. It’s obvious that system reform that includes real accountability must occur if we are going to do anything about the neglect, abuse, and exploitation of people with developmental disabilities in Oregon. The conversation must begin immediately, and must include caregivers, individuals receiving care, their families, friends and personal advocates. It must not happen behind closed doors, among a secret society that has yet to truly acknowledge the urgency.

Sincerely,

David McDonald
DAWG Oregon

 

The Wizard of Words

I heard one of the most profound statements I’ve heard in years a few weeks back. It came from one of my all-time favorite movies “The Wizard of Oz”.

 

It was when Dorothy first met the Scarecrow. She asked him what was wrong, as he was hanging on his post. His reply was that he was upset because he didn’t have a brain. She told him it was ok that he didn’t have a brain, but wondered how he could talk without one. 

His reply was classic! He said “I don’t know, but people talk all the time without having a brain”. Never have truer words been spoken.

My One Regret In Life

It seems that one loss or one win (in early years), can sometimes map out some one's future. I think that's what happened to me during my high school years. I suffered a major loss that set in motion a lot of negativity for me in the years to follow.

Going back to a few years earlier, I can tell you I always felt different. I felt like there was no place for me, where I could fit in. I could speculate as to why that was the case, but opening up this particular can of worms will suffice for now.

I'd always played sports in my youth. My favorites were basketball, baseball, and football. Typical for kids in my hometown. I was pretty good at each one, and divided my time fairly evenly among the three. I played organized baseball from the time I was 7 or 8. Organized football came into my life a bit later at 9 or 10. And organized basketball began in 6th grade. Soon as I tried it I fell in love with the sport, and all but gave up on the others.

Basketball became everything to me. If I wasn't on a court somewhere, I could be found daydreaming about playing. The season itself was too short, so I practiced any time and anywhere I could to ready myself for next season. I'd guess that 80% of my friends liked playing basketball, but I loved it. By the time I reached high school I was secretly dreaming of someday playing in the NBA.

In my town at the time, basketball was probably the most popular sport. Southampton, NY, was known throughout the state and beyond, to be a hotbed for basketball talent and success. The 60's and 70's were the years I'm talking about here. Anyway; to play for the Mariners at that time was an honor that 24 boys enjoyed each year. Making the Varsity or J.V. teams was no easy task.

As a freshman, I went out for the J.V. team, and actually made it! I was thrilled beyond words, and looked forward to putting on a uniform and playing. I did good. In several games I was the 6th or 7th man, and got a chance to start one game. My coach was an odd fellow. He didn't seem able to relate to kids, and always acted unhappy. I tried not to let it bother me, but no matter what I, or other guys on the team did, was never enough. In fact, I'm sure our team only lost 1 game all season.

Here's where the story gets weird. I was close friends with 3 or 4 guys on the team. Beside basketball, we often hung out socially. In the locker room at the end of the last game of the season, one of these guys LOUDLY said "Hey Davy, are we gonna get stoned before practice next year?" I said nothing in reply as the coach had just walked in and surely heard him. As usual the coach said nothing, but gave me an icey stare. The crazy thing is that I didn't even smoke pot at the time!

The following year I went out for the team again. I was a bit nervous but figured if the coach had concerns, hopefully he'd have said something to one or both of us. TryOuts was a 3 day process where the names of the guys who made the team would be posted at the end, on the locker room door. Within I hour of the first day, I sprained my ankle, and spent the next week on crutches. I talked to my friends who assured me that I'd make the team based on the previous year's accomplishment.

When the list of who made the team went up, my name was not on it. I went to the coach's office and asked why. I reminded him of how well I'd done the year before, but he didn't say much. When I was done all he said was "If I put you on the team, who should I take off?" If he expected me to rattle off names of kids I was better than, I wasn't about to. I think he knew that before he even asked me. So that was that. No basketball for me... for that year anyway.

I was very pissed off about not making the team, and began working on my game harder than If I'd made the team. I worked so hard that by the time the next years TryOuts came around I was ready! I had better be. This was for the Varsity! From the first minute of the first day, I was good. Not to blow my horn, but I was great! All throughout I was absolutely one of the best players on the court. I was fast, smart, smooth and stood out. The varsity coach was even using me as an example of how to play the game right. It felt good!

This year at the end of the 3rd day the coach gathered everyone together to sit on the bleachers. He began to speak..." I know that some of you dribble and pass better than others" as he looked directly at me... "but I have to think of the reputation of our school. Not all of you are going to make this team, and thanks for trying out, but I have the reputation to think of first". That was all I needed to hear. Sure enough, my name didn't show up on the door and I was crushed.

Did I take it hard? Damn right I took it extremely hard. Those coaches STOLE MY DREAM! From then on I lost the ability to care too much about anything. I let resentment (bordering on hatred) rule my life for the next 15 or so years. I finally found my way out (slowly) in my early 30's, but the one big regret in life is how I let that experience control me for so many years.

So Much More To Come!

This is the story I sent to John Hopkins University Press, a synopsis of what has happened so far regarding my nephew who has autism. They asked me to contribute an article on transitioning a person with autism into adulthood for their "Narrative Inquiry in Bioethics" Journal, and this was my contribution. Hope you find it a good read!

 

I took over the parental responsibilities for my 16 year old nephew who has profound autism when my sister passed away in 2000. She'd been a single mom for most of his life. I had a good idea what my wife and I could expect for challenges, because I'd been working with people having developmental disabilities (including autism) for 17 years. The degree of some of those challenges, I wasn't quite so ready for.
 

J. had very few skills at the time he came to live with us. When he arrived in Portland from San Francisco we first found him sitting on the floor in the airport clutching a blanket and rocking, with his eyes closed. I looked at my wife, and said, "This should be interesting" -- and it certainly has been. At least for the first year and a half. That's when I began to fulfill the promise I made to my sister on her death bed. That no matter what, I'd help J. make the transition from boyhood to manhood.
 

I had a feeling that there might be some strain on the home front, since my 14 year old daughter would need to get used to having another kid in the house, but she was only there on a limited basis. She spent more time at her mom's house than at ours.I was truly surprised on how quickly Harmony caught on to what we were trying to do with J. She was an only child, but demonstrated a love and understanding well beyond her years. She was much more helpful and accepting than I could have ever hoped for.
 

J. had a vocabulary of around 30 words when he first arrived in Portland. He expressed himself by using a combination of speech, his personal system of finger signing, gestures and pulling people by the arm to show them what he wanted and/or needed. He had no real concept of showering or taking care of his grooming independently. It was as though he couldn't see himself in the mirror. When things weren't going the way he wanted them to he would vomit. His most worrisome behavior was that he had a habit of touching women's hair, whether he knew them or not. I quickly realized that this could potentially cause him severe problems in the community!
 

We had enrolled him in a Portland Public Schools high school, as we understood the need for him to be educated. Things didn't go well from the beginning. It seemed as if all the students in his classroom were spending much more time being entertained than educated. Every other day it seemed like there was a party for no good reason, while we expected reading, writing and arithmetic to be the focus -- after all, in California he'd been working on simple algebra. We decided a communication log should go back and forth between home and school, as a way to hold their feet to the fire. It only proved what we suspected. They had little intention of providing a Free Appropriate Public Education (FAPE) as required by law. Following several IEP meetings, where eventually they called in their attorney, we knew something had to give.
 

At home we were doing our best to create a safe and loving environment, where the expectation that he grow up being responsible and accountable was ever present. Within the first month, he was no longer vomiting, as the understanding was when one throws up, they are obviously sick, and need to go to bed AFTER cleaning up their mess. He didn't like the whole cause/effect of that. We taught him to shake hands ONE time with females, and leave their hair alone. That took three months for him. I worked with him every morning on his grooming process, coaching him to look at himself in the mirror, which took six months for him to do independently. Lastly, we narrowed down his communication style to talking. If he could say 30 words, he could learn to say at least 300. We still work with him on that, but he's already gone from 30 into the thousands, and stringing separate words into sentences. What we found out about my nephew/son was that he would rise to the level of expectation placed upon him!
 

We knew there was a lot for him to learn, so after 1 1/2 years wasted in PPS, we finally took the district to court in Due Process. We knew that Special Education Law would be key if we were to win, but we also knew we had enough evidence to prove that they had neglected him educationally, so we didn't bother to hire an expensive lawyer. Instead, we studied voraciously to prepare ourselves with what we knew could get very ugly. My wife and I represented him ourselves, and after three days of hostile PPS testimony, the Administrative Law Judge found on J.'s behalf. She awarded him $19,000 to be used out of the school district for educational purposes. We signed him up with Sylvan Learning Center, where for the next year and a half he learned to read, write and do math. In fact, he did so well in math that when we asked if he'd like to go further with it, he emphatically let us know he would.
 

By now J. was 20, and it was time to get a job in the real world. We looked around until we found the setting that would best suit his needs at the time. He was set up with Goodwill Industries, where J. immediately excelled. He began making some serious money on a part time basis. Almost 300 dollars every two weeks, and as his Rep. Payee, I needed to figure out how to spend his earnings, so he wouldn't lose his Medicaid eligibility. What he seemed to be lacking more than anything else at this point were people his own age to hang out with and do fun activities with. I found an agency called TRIPS, Inc. that specializes in providing vacations to folks who have various developmental disabilities. Many of these people are J.'s age, so I figured we'd give it a shot. He absolutely loved it! The key to J.'s happiness is travel! For the past nine years he's literally been all over the world, from Hawaii to Alaska to Greece to Mexico to Portugal, to ten or so states on the continent. You could say he's a world wide traveler. We use the earnings from his job (still at Goodwill) to finance his trips, which only serves to motivate him to work hard. He gets in 3 to 4 trips each year. We often tangle with Goodwill to make his employment experience more realistic, and will continue to do so. We don't believe that ANYONE should work for less than the minimum wage in America. Though J. accomplishes this, we believe it's our duty to ensure his peers also do.
 

I guess this is a good place in J.'s story to tell you about his living situation. When he moved in with us, it came with the understanding that if he wished to live elsewhere, he could do so after he turned 18. As his grandmother used to say to me as a child, "Actions speak louder than words." Just before he turned 21, his behavior at home was telling us he may want to move on in his life. He began breaking some of the rules we'd set up for him, and had successfully been following for years. When I'd call him on it, he'd look at me with expectant eyes and ask, "New house?" I guess he was weary of dealing with Sergeant Uncle David's constant riding, and when I told him we'd start looking, the bad behavior stopped. J. was obviously ready to fly the coop.
 

We began looking at group homes referred to us by his County Case Manager. That was VERY disappointing! There seemed to be little concern for finding a place that met his individual needs, and a lot of concern with filling vacant group home slots. Some of the places they sent us to were filled with old people, and others who would not challenge his growth. These homes had no one even close to his age group. We checked out 5 or 6 of these referrals and then began looking on our own. As time went by, I could tell J. was becoming frustrated. He began to withdraw inside himself, which was of great concern to my wife and I. Finally, I gave up, and moved him into what was called Temporary Foster Care. That move turned out to be one of the best I ever made for J.!
 

The house was in a nice country setting, run by a couple of men just slightly older than J.They were friendly, warm, and welcoming. The other residents were right around J.'s age. They were all very involved in Special Olympics. Within a month the managers agreed that they also believed it was the right setting for J. When I contacted J.'s case manager to tell her we didn't need to look any further, she told me he couldn't live there permanently because it's reserved for people in crisis situations. This started a fairly intense argument between myself and the County. We argued for self-directed living, the whole age thing, and the fact that this was what J. wanted. What I eventually did was collect letters from 28 different people who knew J. and his individualized needs. The majority were professionals in the developmental disability field, family and friends. With this sort of pressure -- and a promise that I would take this story to the media -- the County was put into a very uncomfortable position, and shortly after, ended the standoff. J. could stay in the home of his choosing.
 

Once he became acclimated to his new home, we enrolled him into community college, with math and computers as the focus. We hired a few experienced tutors to work with him at school, making sure he understood what was going on in the classroom. He wound up breezing through his classes, and his grades were excellent. He also began attending dances each month with his housemates, and now has a very full and exciting life. Of course, he still comes over to our house each month on a Sunday to watch sports on TV with Uncle David, while Aunt Suzanne whips up his favorite meals in the kitchen.
 

J. was diagnosed as being low-range mentally retarded, with no chance of ever speaking, or having a life beyond mere existence. But, we NEVER gave up on his potential. We've found that diagnoses are little more than labels, stuck to people so that others feel comfortable in dealing with them. J. has taught us as much about ourselves and the "system" as we have taught him. He's made his transition to adulthood like a true champ! Because the people who love him put in the time and energy to ensure he'd go as far as he could, he has. And the beautiful thing about it, is there's MUCH more to come!

Who's Kidding Who?

Did you see the President's presidentation on gun control today? He had 4 kids who had written him letters on the stage to validate his concerns. I found it to be propoganda of the worst kind, reminding me of how terrorists are always accused of using civilians as "human shields" in times of battle.

Interestingly enough, as soon as he was done I went on Facebook where I ran into the following post from a friend... "The state must declare the child to be the most precious treasure of the people. As long as the government is perceived as working for the benefit of the children, the people will happily endure almost any curtailment of liberty and almost any deprivation." - Mein Kampf. Some heavy shit, huh?

I'm also keenly aware of what is being done to children in the Middle East with the use of drones. Does the President not think these children are also children? Or are they simply out of sight and out of mind for this president and other like-minded dults?

War vs. Cancer

With medical advances in the last several years, it's reported that cancer is taking fewer and fewer victims all the time. That's a very good thing! It's taken a lot of research and billions of dollars to accomplish. My father died from cancer as well as several other people I knew.

On a weekly basis one or more of my friends on Facebook will post something about hating cancer, and the loved ones they've lost. Occasionally, I'll repost what they've posted, because they often ask you to, and I don't want to hurt their feelings by not doing so.

Last night, I watched a film titled "War Horse", which although it was pretty predictable, was still good. In watching I tapped into how much I hate war, especially the killing of innocent people. Not sure why it infuriates me so, but it absolutely does!

It's hard for me to "hate" cancer. It's a part of the nature of being human. We are prone to disease, and when we get sick, we do what we can to get well again. But what about war? It's an extremely UN-natural thing for humans to build and possess weapons that will take the lives of others. I'm 100% convinced of this. Yet, we do little to  prevent war. We do even less to end war. And I'm STILL waiting to see a post on Facebook that says; "I HATE WAR!! If you do too, please repost for 1 hour on your timeline. I know some of my friends will do this".

Children

There is so much talk about the children who were murdered in Newtown Connecticut  these days. It only seems fitting that I should write about it on my blog. After all, I also have strong feelings about children AND gun control.

It amazes me that so many Americans are outraged about these 20 kids, but have little to no compassion for children in other parts of the world. I tend to believe that once again people are consumed by the idea of American exceptionalism. So consumed, that it's caused many to become blinded to the issues that face the rest of the world.

According to UNICEF http://www.unicef.org/mdg/childmortality.html, over 29,000 kids die daily throughout the world. In part they say;

"More than 70 per cent of almost 11 million child deaths every year are attributable to six causes: diarrhoea, malaria, neonatal infection, pneumonia, preterm delivery, or lack of oxygen at birth.

These deaths occur mainly in the developing world. An Ethiopian child is 30 times more likely to die by his or her fifth birthday than a child in Western Europe. Among deaths in children, South-central Asia has the highest number of neonatal deaths, while sub-Saharan Africa has the highest rates. Two-thirds of deaths occur in just 10 countries.

And the majority are preventable. Some of the deaths occur from illnesses like measles, malaria or tetanus. Others result indirectly from marginalization, conflict and HIV/AIDS. Malnutrition and the lack of safe water and sanitation contribute to half of all these children’s deaths.
But disease isn’t inevitable, nor do children with these diseases need to die."

It's not clear how many children die from fire arms, but I'm certain that number is high too. With that information before someone, how could they possibly see what happened last week as a major tragedy? Is it because these children were mainly white Americans from upperclass neighborhoods, while the children who die from what UNICEF has identified are from mostly 3rd world countries?

I'm Too Old For Christmas (sung to the tune of "I'll Be Home for Christmas")

I’m too old for Christmas

It’s just too damned hard

Setting up the Christmas tree

And lights out in the yard

Christmas eve will find me

Laid out on the floor

I’m too old for Christmas

Can’t do it any more

 

I’m too old for Christmas

I’m not Santa Claus

All my kids are grown ups now

They come around just because

 

I’m too old for Christmas

Though I still believe

I’m too old for Christmas

So wake me New Year’s Eve.

Say It REALLY Loud!

Somehow, unbeknownst to me, I've become inacstrictably tied to  a woman named Julie Something or other on my blog. If you happen to run into her from here,( I swear I'm not a conservative republican in case you were wondering).

It's kind of like we write opposite opinions on EVERY THING! Pretty strange, if you ask me. I have some friends who are conservatives. Never fails that they have no qualms about making fools of themselves with their obvious lack of education coupled with their willingness to expose it in writing.

I actually love those people! They demonstrate all I've been talking about for the past 10 years. Thank you. You know who you are.

Almost Unanimous

There's just no denying it. Life is changing here in the United States, and across the whole world. With technology leading the way, it would be impossible to ignore the facts. Why then do we insist in hanging on to the old ways, that no longer fit? It doesn't make sense to me.

Government has traditionally made decisions on what's best for us. What a ridiculous notion in 2012. Used to be that people were too ignorant to figure out what's important to them beyond survival. We rely on a two party system to call the shots in our country. Is that really the best we can do? They make no apologies for their actions behind preserving the status quo of pleasing the rich in hopes that will trickle down to THEM. We seem to go along with them as they cut OUR throats. If that's not insanity, I don't know what is.

What if a legitimate third party would emerge to challenge their insanity? Why do we resist this idea? It's a FACT that the demographics in the US are not anything like what they used to be. The last Presidential election bares me out. Hispanics, blacks, and women primarily won the election for Obama. That's NEVER happened before! We need politicians who match up with what WE THE PEOPLE (remember that?) want to see in our country. Not these OLD stuffed shirts currently running the show. NEW BLOOD!

The bottom line is that 98% of us are unhappy (if not suffering) with the state of the nation. That being the case, it only makes sense for US to simply say "No more". WE could get this country moving in the right direction for ALL of us. Not just a chosen few.

The Hunts... Back in Southampton

Last night, during our annual Day-After-Thanksgiving-Dinner (where all the young adult relatives who live around here come to our home for a feast of leftovers) I shared a story from my youth. It was about my experience dealing with the rich people back in Southampton, NY in my early teens. The group was intent as they listened, and when I was finished, someone suggested that I should write about it. So... here goes!

In 1968 I was 12 years old. That was when I first experienced "The Hunts", set in the country side woods of my hometown. The hunts were designed to be a rich man's way of experiencing shooting pheasants for leisure, without the usual dirtiness of being a REAL hunter. Somewhere around 30 of these gentleman-hunters would show up on Saturday mornings at the crack of dawn in November and December. That is where we came in.

On the other side of town 30 or 40 kids, aged 12 to 16 (or 17), would meet in an empty grocery store parking lot, waiting for a big dirty dump truck to pick us up. When the truck arrived, we'd pile into the back, to set upon a 7 mile drive to the farm where the hunts would take place. We'd then pile out, and form a line to receive our equipment for the day. This consisted of a 3 1/2 foot long stick with a loop of rope attached to the back handle, a clapper that was fashioned from two pieces of wood attached with rope on one end, so when you swung it, it made a clapping noise,  a bib with a number on it, which we wore over our coats, and a pair of plastic goggles, which we'd hang around our necks.

When we all had our equipment, we'd wait for a 60ish year old Hungarian man named Mr. Notashe ( pronounced Not-A-Shay) to look us over and give us a pep (threat) talk regarding his hopes for a successful day for the rich hunters. Seemed like we were always waiting for him for a ridiculously long time. Anyway, when he was satisfied with what he saw, we'd climb onto a flatbed trailer, which had no side walls, and was pulled by a tactor, driven by one of the older boys. We'd drive along on these dirt roads (paths), legs hanging over the sides at around 15-20 miles per hour, our destination, the first gathering spot of 6 or 7 for the day.

It took 5 or 10 minutes to get there, and kids would start wrestling and trying to push other kids off the flat bed as we drove to the spot. Each time a kid would get pushed off, the tractor would have to stop until he made his way back, with the driver yelling out commands like "Quit fucking around!" or "I'm not making any more stops! You fall off, you walk!" It was a cross between Lord Of The Flies and The Hunger Games.

When we'd finally make it to the right spot, we'd get off the flatbed and form a long line, according to number. Each 5 man team had an overlord kid (who made 1 dollar more each day) who was in charge of keeping the others in line. After lining up, we'd begin to march forward, usually heading into the woods, with the hunters waiting on directors chairs, along with beautiful women and obediant dogs, in clearings. We'd walk along clapping to scare the pheasants out of their hiding spots, beating the undergrowth with our sticks, in case any had gone into hiding.

We's walk through briars, mud, and slimy grass for 1/2 a mile or so, hearing the screams of the birds as we got closer to the hunter's clearing. Soon, the shotgun blasts would begin. The idea was to NOT shoot toward the beaters (exclusive job tile), but that wasn't always the case. Though I was never shot, I remember other kids pulling buckshot out of their skin. When we'd hear (or feel) the buckshot getting too close kids would yell out phrases like "Keep your fucking guns up!" toward the hunters.

Once we made it to a spot where we could see the hunters in front of us, we'd lay flat on our stomachs with heads down, or seek refuge behind a tree while they blasted away as the birds flew out. After a few minutes, Mr' Notashe would blow a horn, signifying that this particular shooting spree was completed. We'd then enter the clearing and pick up the dead birds, making a pile of their bodies. If they were still alive, we were expected to pick them up by the head and wring their necks until dead. Some kids got a real charge out of this and would wring the pheasant's necks until the head came off in their hands.

After thee or four of these mini-hunts, it was time for lunch. The tractor would drive us to an old barn where the smell of boiling hot dogs and cow excretement filled the air as we approached. One of the older kids was in charge of passing out hot dogs, another in charge of giving every kid one 12 ounce bottle of Coke, and a third would pass out a single jelly donut for desert. Such a lovely repast! Then the fun would begin. We'd play some kind of tackling game in the empty (of cows, not their shit) pasture. Some kids would quietly slip away to smoke a joint or 2. Others might imbibe some form of alcoholic beverage. For that one hour of time we answered to no one but our selves.

Then it was back to work. Gathering up our equipment, we'd get it all back together, and repeat the morning's events in new clearings with new pheasants. This would go on until daylight was gone. Inevitably some kid(s) would have a difficult afternoon after the lunch break (I include myself on a few of these occasions), and by dusk we'd be back to where we got our equipment in the morning. It was a 7 or 8 hour workday where we'd make $8, and each week the cries for "an extra dollar" were widespread and loud! After waiting for Mr. Notashe (again), we'd finally get our pay. Sometimes an extra dollar, and sometimes not.

I did "The Hunts" for another few years until I was one of the older kids. It was fun and it sucked at the same time. We were well aware of the fact that we were being taken advantage of by rich people who didn't care about us in the slightest. However the comradery I experienced with the other kids in my town, and the smile it brings to my face as I write this, made it well worth it!

Thanksgiving Prayer

Dear God/Godess, I come before you in prayer and suplication. I humbly ask that the world take a new direction. That All people will finally open eyes to the truth that we are All from one family of mankind. That we ALL will realize that we ALL can be helpful and helped by our sisters and brothers. That war and killing those from our own family doesn't accomplish anything more than dividing us. That compassion and love are your only wishes for us All. Amen

Election Day Blues... or Hot Patatuh

Getting ready to go over to my local library to cast my vote. Personally, up to this election, I've voted pretty much Democrat... but not any more. This year I'm voting for Jill Stein from the Pacific Green Party, who sounds so much wiser than either of the 2 main stream candidates. Times change, as do peoples' minds.

The sad part is that one of the two candidates (who Corporate TV allowed to debate) is going to win. Both these GUYS scare me to death! They have never shown that they have the interests of the American public at heart. They do the bidding of the wealthiest people in this country, and pretty much dump the rest of us. Here's my prediction... If Obama wins, all the racists in the land will go nuts. If Romney wins, all the fake liberals will cry that he stole the election. Either way, it could get weird...

Hurricane Thoughts

I've been doing some thinking today. Surprised? Every now and then... Anyway... earlier this week I saw the President on TV imploring people who are able, to vote early this year. Could it be because he knows something about Hurricane Sandy's destructive powers that we don't?

I have a funny feeling about this storm. It's already caused some power outages in the East, and has another 2 1/2 days to go before it's even done there! If it messes things up too badly, it may make it difficult for people to get to the voting poles on the 6th. Jus' sayin'... So if Ohio and Wisconsin (yes, it's supposed to be big enough to effect them) don't get the kind of turn out the President is hoping for, does he get to call a "do-over"?

And what happens to the rest of the country if power outages hit NYC and the Wall St. stock exchange has to be closed down for a few days or more? That would cause a huge mess throughout the US. I kiddingly mentioned on Facebook That this storm may in fact be the "October surprise" of this election. I hope it's not. I just have a funny feeling about this storm...

10/31/12- Well the storm is now gone for the most part, but its' effects will be with us for a while. As I suspected, I got it partially right. The discussion is obviously about fixing things that got broke, but there's also talk about how this will effect the election next week. And I also heard talk about Wall Street being closed. Lower Manhattan got hit pretty hard. Let's just hope that's it for a while!