SantaMonicaDeeVa

Swinger's in Santa Monica

2011-11-13T21:28:00.000-08:00

I love Swingers. It's been one of my favorite Santa Monica eateries since the first time I ate there, shortly after it opened. It's fun (there's a juke box and 60's-70's ambiance), the wait staff are always awesome (chatty, hip and always seem to get my order right), the food is lucious and fresh and the menu is lengthy.

Friendly dogs are welcome -- they're not allowed inside but the long, narrow patio affords responsible dog owners the opportunity to have their dogs stay by them while they eat, talk, drink, laugh, meet and enjoy the experience of including their dog(s) through the day. The wait staff will even bring a container of water for your beloved pooch. It's wonderful seeing several dogs curled up on the sidewalk by the patio tables where their humans are seated. Recently, new bike posts have been installed on Broadway next to the patio area so cyclists can secure their bikes to something sturdy rather than a parking meter.

I stopped at Swingers Saturday afternoon after a couple hours of walk-about errands. I was super hungry and I had to pass Swingers on the way home. I ordered my "usual": a burrito from the breakfast portion of the menu. I sat at a patio table and within 15 seconds I was asked what I'd like to drink. Coffee and a glass of iceless water (that's the way I like it) were delivered in less than a minute. BTW: their coffee is really good; I drink it black. Minutes later I placed my order and settled in to read the "Santa Monica Daily Press". By the time I was ready to read page two, the burrito arrived. I'll admit the place wasn't that busy but even so -- that's fast. I snapped the photo below and sent it with a text message via Loopt then dug into the warm, flavorful burrito awesomeness.

Buried inside the whole wheat burrito are quinoa, spinach, black beans, some tomato-based sauce and really interesting flavorful spices. There're probably more ingredients inside but I don't know what they are -- other than divine. The topping is the most delicious chipotle sauce I've ever tasted (garnish of spring onion tops).

Swingers offers breakfast, lunch, dinner and late night nosh. The menu has plenty of interesting and delicious food for omnivores, vegetarians and vegans. Many of my non-vegan/non-vegetarian friends now love Swingers. If you live or work in Santa Monica and haven't eaten at Swingers... you really should. Bring your out-of-town guests -- they won't forget the place and they'll probably want to go back every time they visit.

The only drawback eating there, right now, is this view of the building across the street (NE corner of Broadway and Lincoln Blvd.)

Yep. Another of the too-many, look-alike boxes being built in Santa Monica. Fortunately, it rained earlier so there was no construction cacophony and I could enjoy my burrito in relative quiet.

11-11-11

2011-11-11T20:19:00.000-08:00

Besides being a really awesome palindrome (no, that's not the name of Sarah Palin's country home), 11/11/11 is Veteran's Day. It's the day we civilians are provided the opportunity to do more than just slap a "Support our Troops" bumper sticker on something. It's the chance to voice our thanks to the members of our military community, without whom our freedoms might only be a long-forgotten, faded piece of parchment.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all our veterans. You are loved, celebrated, you are treasured and admired more than most of us can ever articulate. I'm not a veteran but I am a military brat so I'm a teeny-tiny bit familiar with the personal sacrifice of military life. There's much opportunity in military service but there's sacrifice as well. Besides opportunity to serve this country, the chance to earn a college degree, a noble career, and the experience of being part of a team, there's low pay, drafty base housing and more time away from family than with them.

I'd like to expand my thanks to include the military families who stay strong and lovingly give of themselves in a way they may not have anticipated when their beloved family member became part of our military forces. For the military, service to country comes first and family members provide a huge amount of support to make that happen. This country should also thank the families. I salute the veterans and their incomparable families from the deepest, furthest corners of my heart. You bring color, vitality and nobility to our American life. You are part of who we salute or for whom we cover our hearts when we sing the "Star Spangled Banner" or say the Pledge of Allegiance. Thank you.

I thank my cousin Dale in Chicago who enlisted in the Marines in 1968 on the day he turned 18. He spent two tours as a lineman in Vietnam before he was twenty. He came home to marry a lovely woman and raise three fantastic, loving, generous children whose lives contribute to the world. Thank you Dale. You have led a loving, selfless, noble life and you are one of my heroes. I'm proud of you. The whole family is proud of you.

I'd like to celebrate my cousin Christina who enlisted with the Marines at age 18 and continued to serve her country even as a single mother. You inspire me and I thank you.

A special thank you to my eighty-seven year old father, who, at age 18, was flying P38's with the famous 94th Aero Squadron over Italy during WWII. He spent 24 years in the Air Force beginning his career when it was known as Army-Air Corps and retiring in 1964.

Photo from:world-war-2-planes.com

About five years ago I attended a course, "American War Films", offered through Santa Monica College. We viewed, analyzed and discussed about ten films, one of which was "The Story of G.I. Joe" which I'd never seen before. War films are not my favorite film genre but I've seen a number of them. Where other films left me with a hatred of war and violence, "The Story of GI Joe" transformed me -- not my thinking -- me. I don't mean that I now love war and violence but I did come away with a LOT more -- 100% more -- appreciation for what it took to be in the armed forces during WWII.

Walking home after the class, I felt the urge to call my dad and thank him for his service. Like so many veterans, Dad seldom spoke about what war was like for him so I didn't know if I'd embarrass him or make him uncomfortable. I called anyway. I told Dad, "I've just seen 'The Story of GI Joe' and, I know you weren't in the infantry and I'll never know what it was like for you in World War II, but I appreciate what you did and I want thank you. I just really thank you." He was quiet for a few seconds. Then he said, "You don't need to thank me." I said, "I want to." Another second or two passed before he replied, "No one in my family ever thanked me before." We talked further but I was so glad I made the call and so glad I thanked my father for his service to this country.

In his back yard.

Dad lives in Virginia now and spends his days teaching himself Arabic, studying home courses about calculus, astronomy, theology, genetics and teachings of the Buddha. As an unintended member of The Greatest Generation, he's a walking, breathing part of history -- and he's interesting to talk to about almost any subject.

Enjoying the afternoon sun.

Most days Dad takes a walk along the Windsor Castle park bridge in Smithfield, VA. If you see him, introduce yourself and chat. I'm sure he'd be delighted and it'd be a gift to him if you say "Thank you for your service to this country".

Once again, thank you Veterans and Veterans' families.

Steve Jobs in Santa Monica

2011-11-08T22:07:00.000-08:00

The alert bell jangled on October 5, 2011. The sound, I knew, was breaking news delivered to my iPhone via the New York Times app. The screen read, "Steve Jobs, Apple Co-Founder Dead". Like many millions of others, I read about the death of Steve Jobs on an Apple device. I gasped, "No..." and wept. I don't remember ever crying over the death of a CEO before. I was caught off guard by my reaction. I knew Steve Jobs was battling cancer but I was shocked, felt a deep sense of loss and cried. I wanted to visit the Santa Monica Apple store. I knew instinctively I'd find fellow mourners with whom I could cry and wonder aloud how such a brilliant man, leading innovator in personal computing, music and animated film industries could be beaten by cancer. He just seemed bigger than a disease that so voraciously vanquishes the lives of less accomplished mortals.

I bought my first Apple product in 1984 and have been an unabashed Apple fan ever since. I admire the clean simplicity of Apple products even if I don't understand or utilize even half of any devices' capability. Most of all I admired that Steve Jobs wanted to change the world and he did. I admired Steve Jobs unconditionally -- flaws and all. I needed to find my own personal way to say thank you and goodbye.

It took me four days to stop crying, gather myself and organize my day so I could take time away from work. On October 9th I printed the photo from the Apple web site and scribbled, "Thank you, Steve Jobs for the difference you made in my life through your life's work." Around 2 PM I began the nine-block walk to the Santa Monica Apple store, 5" x 7" note in hand, intending to leave it on the sidewalk in front of the store where I expected to find a spontaneous memorial of flowers, notes and apples.

What I didn't expect was this:

Santa Monica Apple Store tribute/memorial to Steve Jobs

The Warhol-esque, three-panel vision of a larger-than-life Steve Jobs rested against the Apple store's front window. Each panel was about four feet tall by three feet wide. The canvases were striking, poignant and quietly powerful. There was something so cathartic, so right about the art work -- I conjured the memory of John Lennon, Steve Jobs and Beatles' music. There were flower bouquets, single roses, candles, cards and apples with a single bite taken from side like the iconic Apple logo. It was a magical memorial.

I placed my note at the base of the left hand screen next to a generous bouquet. Many notes read simply, "Thank you." Like me, several people in the quiet crowd around the memorial read the notes, stood in silent reverie, left something behind and took photos. I'm still moved by the show of affection for a man I'm sure none of us who visited the store that day ever met.

After I placed my note, I entered the Apple store and asked the young man who'd helped me solve an ITunes problem, if one of the store employees painted the art work. He said no, and none of the employees knew anything about it. It had been left anonymously and was there when the first employees arrived to open the store that morning, Oct. 9th.

I haven't returned to the store since, so I don't know if the artist returned to reclaim the canvases or if the memorial is still there. I may go visit the store again tomorrow, November 9, a month after my visit and ask if anyone knows any more about the art.

Santa Monica Chip

2011-11-08T18:27:00.000-08:00

This precious little critter is "Chip" and I frequently see him in Santa Monica, walking with his human partner. His personality could light up anyone's day.

Chip

I took about 8 pictures of this darling, friendly and gleeful chihuahua but he's so full of zip and vigor that he's just too fast for my iPhone camera! He's got such a happy personality and he makes me giggle every time I see him I'll try to photograph him again next time I see him. Maybe I can get some better pics.

The Squaring of Santa Monica

2011-11-07T01:07:00.000-08:00

It's no surprise to the readers of this blog (all two of you) that I enjoy photographing the comings and goings, whimsy, beauty and unique delightfulness of Santa Monica. My cameras (iPhone 3G and Olympus FE-140) often don't capture what I see as well I want but Santa Monica never disappoints.

A beautiful day at the Santa Monica beach.

Santa Monica state of mind captured!

Santa Monica summer sky

Optometrist's clever window display!

I don't know what these are but they're lovely.

Farmer's Market Birds of Paradise

Tiles on Santa Monica's City Hall entrance display the color and movement of Santa Monica.

For the past few years I've photographed the results of Santa Monica's Beauty-and-the-Beast development. As a 20+ year resident of this beautiful city, I used to be a proponent of "zero-development" here. However, after reading fellow resident, Frank J. Gruber's clear-eyed, practical observations about urban development in his book "Urban Worrier", I adjusted my opinion -- a bit. I have a better appreciation for a city's need to evolve as decades pass in order to keep up with the demands of a vibrant sea-side city like Santa Monica.

The single greatest visible impact development has on the public is on its architecture. There are thousands of other details and issues but the architecture of a building's facade afflicts or enhances a city and its public for decades. Like any city of merit, Santa Monica is more than a bunch of people living, working, existing in buildings. It's a state of mind for many, rather than just a destination. Residents can feel pride of place. I feel very lucky to live in Santa Monica and now that I've lived here for a generation, I'm entitled to say, I'm proud of this city.

Here, the trees capture the breezes.

Paths that lead to a sense of place.

Reminders from an earlier era that utilities don't have to be utilitarian in design.

The moody Santa Monica marine layer

The starfish are sultry and alluring.

Cyclists customize their ride in the joyfulness of Santa Monica.

Santa Monica winks good night.

While I admit that reasoned development keeps a city from stagnation or decay, I still hate seeing decades old, well crafted, homes bulldozed and replaced by multi-resident, high-rise dwellings with no yards or sense of being part of the city for which they provide shelter.

House on the west side of 11th near Wilshire Blvd.

The reason for this post: I'm deeply disappointed, even angry, at the same, uninspired architectural designs repeatedly approved by Santa Monica's Architectural Review Board (ARB).

In Santa Monica, the ARB gives, among other things, final approval for the physical look and style of new buildings. I'm sure that's a great over-simplification of the ARB's responsibility. The process for final design approval is long, arduous and, in my opinion, worthy given that the ARB is responsible for Santa Monica's architectural character as new buildings go up. Public services notwithstanding, architecture is a declaration of a city's view of itself in the world.

Let's start with the Big Brown Blob of a high rise somewhere on Santa Monica Blvd. between Lincoln Blvd. and 4th St.. The eye of this beholder-blogger thinks this is an ugly building with zero sense of Santa Monica.

On the same north/south block as the Big Brown Blob is an entire block of high-rise boxes, with no sense of place or distinction between Santa Monica Blvd. and Broadway on 6th or 7th St. (they all look so much alike I'm not sure) with only two ever-graceful palm trees as balance.

Approved for the NE corner of Lincoln Blvd. and Broadway. It will be on the same block as the ugly horizontal green stripe building that's almost finished (photograph follows).

A more recent variation on what's going in on the NE corner of Lincoln Blvd., and Broadway

Almost finished high-rise box with puke green horizontal stripes under construction on NW corner of Broadway and 9th (referred to above).

The color scheme for this high-rise seems to reference Santa Monica's beautiful orange sunsets and the grey mist of Santa Monica's June-gloom marine layer (which was rolling in as I took the pic).

Square, square and more square blah.

I can't even recall which block this is but it all the same squares, rectangles and straight lines. Not even palm trees to soften the harshness!

This is on Broadway somewhere between the new (and square) open air Santa Monica mall and Lincoln Blvd. but I can't recall exactly where.

Ooooh, how clever: squares and rectangles now with balconies.

This is a little more interesting with a mirrored facade and shadow-making angles.

Oh, and here's the very expensive, much anticipated, new, and not-so-much-improved Santa Monica Mall:

Broadway and Third St. (the Promenade) entrance to the open air Santa Monica mall full of right angles. It could have been erected any where.

SE corner of Broadway and 6th

Except for those who live in Santa Monica, who in the world would think this is a fairly new block of buildings in Santa Monica, CA? These will probably look like slums in about 10 years -- then the ARB can approve even taller variations of square rectangles to replace these (please, no!).

In my dream world, members of the ARB read my blog so, my request to them is: please stop -- stop today -- just stop approving all these right-angle boxes that could be anywhere on planet earth and demand architects incorporate the soul of Santa Monica in their designs. Require architects walk (or bike) at least a percentage of Santa Monica's 8.2 square miles to get a sense of its unique qualities and heart so designs can be submitted that look like they could only exist in Santa Monica. Designing with inspiration and creativity is not any more expensive than designing the same boring boxes but it's a far more noble legacy for Santa Monica and its ARB.

To be fair, not all the new architecture is ugly. Sometimes the ARB gets it really right and I thank them but the vast majority of new architectural designs being approved by the ARB are the same boxy shapes, top-to-bottom with no trim or design to soften or interest to attract the human eye. Here are two favorites of mine:

This perimeter fence along Colorado (between 6th and 7th Streets) is part of the new bus terminal. It's particularly beautiful and in keeping with Santa Monica at night (reminds me of the ocean waves and azure skies of summer).

Relatively new commercial building on the NW corner of Colorado and 2nd St.; one look and we know we're in a sea-side town. I still won't eat at McDonald's but I'm proud of this building.

Now that I have this out of my head and into my blog, in future posts I'll publish photos of some of the elements of Santa Monica shape and form that we, the public, should expect to see in the architectural design approved by the ARB.

A final note, none of the square buildings in this post are parking structures -- which one might excuse for being unimaginative, right-angled edifices -- all of which makes what's been done to the look and ambience of Santa Monica that much sadder.

Santa Monica Roses

2011-11-06T19:49:00.000-08:00

The roses in Santa Monica always end up in my camera. I don't upload the pictures very often so by the time I upload them it's a double delight because I don't remember that I took the photo.

I wonder if this is called a peppermint candy rose. What ever it is, it's stunning!

A little blurry but luscious red RED rose in a garden on 10th St.

Achieving Bike-Friendliness

2011-06-07T20:58:00.000-07:00

Pretty, Sparkling Bikes!

For those eager to see Santa Monica and Los Angeles transform into bicycle-friendly cities, reach into your pockets and get out your two-cents worth of input! On Wednesday, June 8th (5:30 pm to 7:30 pm) William Roschen, President of the Los Angeles City Planning Commission & Alexis Lantz, Planning and Policy Director for Los Angeles County Bicycle Coalition, will discuss the Los Angeles City Bicycle Master Plan, approved in March by the City Council. The Bicycle Master Plan calls for an eventual network of 1,680 miles of interconnected bikeways, including more than 200 miles of new bicycle routes every five years. It also calls for a safety campaign to educate drivers about sharing the streets. (Yay!)

Learn how the Los Angeles County Bicycle Coalition, Los Angeles City Planning Commission, and Department of Transportation collaborated to make this vision come true. This is a free meeting open to the public.

I know, starting at 5:30 pm is not a good time for most folks Regardless, send a message by participating: attend, listen, learn, ask questions and (possibly -- I haven't seen the agenda) comment.

June 8, 2011 5:30pm-7:30pm

Environment Now

2515 Wilshire BoulevardSanta Monica, CA 90403 (I have no idea about parking; I plan to take the bus).

RSVP to speakerseries@environmentnow.org

All Things Bright and Bicycle Related

2011-06-05T22:19:00.000-07:00

Santa Monica Ride

The Santa Monica City Council is making strong efforts to transform the city into a bicycle-friendly city. Since I used to cycle all over Santa Monica and would love to do it again, this is very exciting and I say, YAY!

Santa Monica Beach Ready-to-Rides

Last Friday I attended an "I Am Santa Monica" workshop (more about that in another blog) and was delighted to hear other Santa Monica business representatives make positive comments about the bike valet stalls made available for recent city events. Statistics show that cities that are "bike friendly" are better for businesses and its residents.

I've seen an increasing number of cyclists in Santa Monica. I know one resident/attorney/journalist/author, Frank Gruber (author of "Urban Worrier" and the "What I Say" column for Surf Santa Monica) is a dedicated (in my observation) bike commuter from his home in Ocean Park to downtown Santa Monica. He's a great role model for cycling to work.

New bike posts (on Broadway) to secure our wheels.

For those Santa Monicans interested in supporting the "better bicycling" efforts being made, you may want to contact various members of the Santa Monica Planning Commission and City Council or attend the meetings to make public comments. A plan has already started to take shape but community input is invaluable and vitally important. Or, you may want to join/support Santa Monica Spoke, an energetic and thoughtful non-profit group whose mission is to help make Santa Monica a better place to cycle. I'm 100% for that but I'm also committed to a well-planned integrated plan that allows motor vehicles, non-motorized vehicles and pedestrians safe and unfettered access around the city. We CAN all get along.

Cycling up the California Incline - not for the weak-thighed.

It's important to note that riding on the sidewalks -- although seemingly safer to the rider -- is illegal in Santa Monica.

For those who enjoy cycling, the Santa Monica beach bike path from the Pier south, is a little bit of heaven and is relatively confined to bicycle traffic only. The part of the path north of the Pier is less so. That part of the path is marked as restricted to bicycles and skaters only, but joggers/walkers/runners/strollers also use the path because there is no other place to walk if you don't want sand in your shoes. Many a busy weekend has ended in discord between cyclist and foot traffic because of the path's lack of accommodation for both. I'd like to encourage the re-striping of that three miles of bike path so pedestrians can share the outer portions of the path -- much like the pedestrians and cyclists who use the bike path in Rancho Cordova that parallels the American River. Pedestrians share the outer edges of the two-way, four-lane path while cyclists and skaters use the wider, inner two-way lanes; pedestrians walk (sometimes with their dogs) against the wheeled traffic so collisions are avoided. If there's no economically viable way to widen the Santa Monica beach path, then how about re-striping and re-signing it? It might cause fewer fights and collisions between the admirably active cyclists and pedestrians.

Cycling the pedestrian bridge over PCH.

A couple of months ago I participated in the 5th and Arizona Development community workshop and one of the most prevalent comments was a desire for bike accommodations and how much more time could be spent shopping and enjoying downtown Santa Monica if there were.

My bike (now residing in Rancho Cordova).

After years of commuting 13 miles by bike -- Santa Monica to Culver City -- I stopped cycling Santa Monica in 2000 because increased traffic, hostile drivers ignorant of the laws regarding bikes and lack of bike lanes made it increasingly scary for me. Since then, I've walked Santa Monica and while I love walking, I can't carry as many purchase walking as I did when I rode my bike. Now, for purchases that require more than my two arms or are too heavy for me to carry more than a few blocks, I drive out of Santa Monica to avoid local traffic.

I’d like to cycle Santa Monica again. I'm an advocate for an integrated approach to make Santa Monica safe for all traffic. Everyone has their own point of view but, I’d like to see increased bike lanes and bold signage that indicates "No bikes on sidewalks" or reminders for cyclist to obey all traffic laws. This would educate drivers, cyclists and pedestrians and result in safer streets for everyone. Widening or re-striping the beach bike path north of the pier to give pedestrians a designated narrow lane could allow safe pedestrian and cyclist throughway to locations like "Back on the Beach" or the Annenberg Community Center. Seeing police on bikes as a yearly presence around the city says cyclists are welcome here and are an important part of this city.

Bikes galore for rent.

Cyclists create a community, not only with each other but with the businesses they patronize. I look forward to an integrated plan for the whole city that embraces cyclists, benefits our businesses and creates smooth flowing and safe traffic for all of us.

L A Times Opinion Piece:Contempt for firefighters won't solve L.A.'s budget mess

2011-04-27T23:26:00.000-07:00

I read an article in today's L A Times' "Opinion L.A." section: "Contempt for firefighters won't solve L.A.'s budget mess". First, the title disturbed me. I have a lot of respect for firefighters and for their work in the community. I don't know any firefighters personally and I'm not even vaguely related to one and have never needed their assistance (knock on wood) but theirs is a noble calling. Second, the article's title immediately brought to mind many of the photos and news articles I've read that provided insight into what it is to be a firefighter. I recall that some local firefighters went to New York City after the attacks of September 11, 2001, to provide heroic service not only to a community 2500 miles away but to the nation. I've seen photos of firefighters resuscitating the limp bodies of children and animals. I've read about firefighters who lost their lives when enveloped in a wildfire. I just can't picture the dark boiling chasm from which some of these commenters drudge up their ideas and their venom.

One commenter compared firefighters to bridge attendants. Not to belittle bridge attendants (I've never been one), but I doubt their professions require them to climb 6 stories worth of stairs while wearing a 90 pound pack and hauling a fire hose. Another commenter was angry that firefighters make huge salaries (I have no idea how much firefighters make) and aren't required to have more than a GED. I won't continue to reiterate the comments -- they don't deserve to be repeated and they break my heart.

There may be valid criticism about firefighting procedures. There may be organizational waste that can be trimmed but writing comments pointed at firefighters which aren't based in fact incites the uninformed and certainly doesn't help solve the budget problem.

I've stopped by my local station on Thanksgiving Days, Christmas Days and New Years Days and there's always a crew on duty. As a citizen observer I've been in a fire station eating dinner with a firefighting crew when the alarm sounded. The crew was on the truck, fully geared-up and on their way in 30 seconds. That kind of reaction only happens with training, determination, focus, dedication and more training. When they came back they took care of the truck and their gear first -- in preparation for the next call -- before sitting back down to a dinner that had to be warmed in the microwave.

Commenters, here's what I do know about firefighters:

They have to stay fit, maintain their own gear and the station house equipment, have to buy their own groceries and cook for themselves during their 2 or 3 day rotation, have to leave their families for days at a time so they can be available to save the lives.

Firefighters often can't afford to live in the communities they protect and -- for all I know -- may not be allowed to work near their own homes just as doctors usually aren't allowed to operate on immediate members of their family.

You won't care how much firefighters are paid when they save your home or give you oxygen out of their own mask or breathe life back into the lungs of your loved one.

You won't care whether a fire fighter has a GED, PhD or no pedigree if one pulls you from your wrecked car, a burning building or searches for you in a collapsed building in the aftermath of a catastrophe. And yes, firefighters will be there for you when there's a catastrophe.

Firefighters perform a life-or-death service to the communities in which they Serve with a capital "S".

Firefighters often miss important family events in order to serve a community that doesn't even know their names.

More is expected of firefighters and at a higher level of performance than most professions. They are highly trained professionals who are priceless when they are called to serve.

Commenters, you can feel spew contempt for firefighters, you can say mean and heartless things about them and yet -- should they be called upon to do so, they will unhesitatingly save YOUR life.

Santa Monica Critters

2011-04-08T00:35:00.000-07:00

One of the delightful graces of Santa Monica are the critters, the pets, the wildlife, the winged creatures great and small.

Wild Critters having fun while the real critter watches for Trick-or-Treaters

Shiba Inu pup outside Von's is not ready for her close-up.

Grey Hound hard at work.

"Get-me-outta-here!" kitty.

Community splash next to the Santa Monica jail.

Nikka (left) and Turbo on "Squirrel!" watch.

BIG Hello Kitty watching the holiday cemetery.

Hello Kitty and Pez friends.

How much is the Hello Kitty in the window?

I couldn't resist asking the owner of this sweet, friendly Dachshund for permission to take her (or his) picture. It was 10pm and my iPhone blurred this sweetheart's adorable face.

Resident Turkey

I wonder how many residents or visitors of Santa Monica know there's an aquarium under the pier?

Moray Eel with something to say... (Santa Monica Museum)

Stingless Ray (?) (Santa Monica Aquarium)

Star Fish in a dramatic pose (Santa Monica Aquarium)

Crab critter (Santa Monica Aquarium)

Birds of Paradise critters.

Waiting while "Mom" shops.

Brown Poodle buddy.

Garden critters and...

more Garden Critters

Santa Monica Sunday

2011-04-06T00:29:00.000-07:00

The relatively recently opened Annenberg Community Beach House at 415 PCH, sits atop the footprint of the former Marion Davies Beach House, and is now a public center for beach activity including swimming in the restored original swimming pool for those who prefer a dip in fresh water rather than the Pacific Ocean's salty, sandy and seaweedy wash. By the way, Marion Davies' beach house is a beach house in the same manner as Windsor Castle is the British monarch's vacation getaway from Buckingham Palace.

Marion Davies' Beach House begun in 1926.

Marion Davies' Beach House was 100+ rooms of opulence, splendor and fun. I'm learning to be a docent for the Annenberg Community Beach House through the impressive efforts of the Santa Monica Conservancy so I'll know more about this fantastic public recreation center when I complete the training. For now, it's just fascinating and exciting to be walking the halls where the truly splendid Marion Davies -- as well as other celebrities -- once spent time. If you live in Santa Monica -- and you appreciate living here -- go and enjoy 415 PCH. I'm pretty sure Marion would have loved the idea this space is still place of family fun (although I wonder if she'd be saddened that the main house was demolished in 1956).

On March 13, 2011, I walked from my abode on 11th St. to 415 PCH to take the free docent led tour of the Guest House. There are still some homes of interest built by filmdom's founders in the early 1900's -- before it became a film industry. I'm still learning about some of the architects who built spectacular homes along Santa Monica's "Gold Coast" during that time (much to learn, much to retain). I do know the amazing Julia Morgan -- architect for William Randolph Hearst's Castle -- also designed the Beach House.

Walking along the bike path on the way to 415 PCH, there are still a few homes from the 1920 era that have not yet been lost to the destructive bent of development. I'll have to call upon my friend Steve Vaught who once walked with me along the beach path and pointed out homes built by Louis B. Mayer, Harry Warner, Samuel Goldwyn, Irving Thalberg & Norma Shearer -- but I'm embarrassed to say I've forgotten which names go to which homes.

As I recall, the salmon-colored house in the center is a house of interest but I don't recall who makes it "interesting".

I've seen this slightly out of focus home on postcards from the early 1900's but I'll have to go through my collection of Santa Monica post cards to find out who's associated with it (or ask Steve).

In the sitting room of the Guest House, a lovely fireplace graces the room. I'll bet there's an interesting story behind the female bodied mantel pillars and I'll bet it wasn't originally painted all white.

Sitting room (fireplace behind me) doors face the ocean. I find it hard to believe the furniture is representative of what was in the Guest House before the estate's sale in 1947. The chairs, couch, tables and lamp seem to be left over from the Sea & Sand Hotel which is what the Marion Davies Beach House became after she sold it.

Photos of one of the two restored bathrooms in the Guest House.

The whimsical, Julia Morgan designed tiles were uncovered under layers of paint and the bathrooms restored to their former glory. This is what Marion Davies' family and friends would have seen when they lived in the Guest House. Unfortunately, my camera's batteries died just as I got to the Guest House and had to resort to my iPhone instead. The photos just don't do justice to the interior. The square masted ship is a metallic copper color, as are the sea crests and delightful sea creatures.

View from the beach-facing 2nd floor balcony.

Okay, here's the surprise. There's free wifi here and anyone with a laptop who wants to spend the late morning, early afternoon in one of the Guest House rooms surfing the net instead of the waves, can do so by just showing up when the Guest House is open.

The Annenberg Community Center is a gem and should be used, admired, loved and appreciated by both Santa Monica residents and the public at large. The Guest House is a throwback to a more graceful time of architecture and a historic treasure. Plus, it's fun to imagine Marion Davies walking into the very room in which you're standing.

I'll take better photos next time. There's much I didn't photograph which deserves to be seen and shared.

Birthday in Santa Monica

2011-03-11T00:35:00.000-08:00

My birthday snuck up on me again. It always does. One minute it's all "Happy New Year! Who brought the champaign" and the next it's early morning Facebook chirps from my iPhone, delivering birthday greetings to my FB wall. I have to say thank you to Facebook -- I had friends from all over the U.S. leaving delightful and appreciated birthday greetings. And not one of them ask my age. Good people.

I worked half a day opening trouble tickets for DSL behaving badly, answering questions about billing, and incorrectly answering questions about email behaving badly. I love email but I still can't quite get a grip on all the variations and configuration algorithms (see previous post). I've been doing this for nearly 11 years. It's pathetic -- inexcusable really -- that I still tell customers email is based wizardry and fairy dust. Thank the internet Krakens for web email -- I don't have to deal with that.

Around noonish, I tidied up my little office, donned my Asics, wobbled off with my baseball cap and camera to take pics of what ever I saw. My self-imposed mission: create a picture essay of my birthday.

No many how many times I walk to the beach, I never tire of photographing the sparkling water, the track-stained sand and rippling waves and everything along the way.

What the?

Just beyond the barrier along Pacific Palisades park, I noticed more of he cliff had collapsed or eroded and now revealed what appears to be stone stairs. In the early Twentieth Century, there was a long, steep wooden stairway leading from the cliff top to the beach. However, that stairway was further north (where a high rise luxury condo building now stands guard) near Adelaide Drive and they're long gone, victim, as I recall, to a harsh storm. These may not be steps -- they may be reinforcement from some earlier decade. This is much further south, closer to Broadway Street.

Erosion

The pathway between the white wooden fence (above) and the cliff drop-off, used to be part of the original walkway along Pacific Palisades.

Ocean Blvd. circa 1950s (?)

I've seen a number of postcards circa early 1900's depicting Pacific Palisades near Broadway and it's astonishing how much of the cliff has fallen away. Some members of City Hall blame the erosion squarely on squirrels (I kid you not), but I'm not convinced. I think it's just cliffside giving up its battle with gravity.

Lazy Wednesday day on Santa Monica's beach

On Sunday's this part of the beach, just north of the Santa Monica Pier, is where Veteran's for Peace create a vivid reminder of the cost of war, with Arlington West.

End of the Road

This is at the end of the Santa Monica Pier, a display of Route 66 maps and trinkets.

Santa Monica Feathered Sentinal

Penguin or Photographer's Shadow?

Making Friends.

On Second Street with a Downtown Ambassador

On the way home, I saw a member of Santa Monica's "Downtown Ambassador" team wheeling along alone on a Segway on Second Street. I asked if I could take a photo of him but was told he was not allowed to have his photo taken unless he was posing with someone. Just then an obliging young man exited the adjacent building and cheerfully allowed himself to be photographed with the Ambassador. Unfortunately, I did not ask either man for his name! What's the matter with me? Anyway, they're a fine example of the pleasant and helpful people in Santa Monica. Despite the traffic, we know we live in paradise.

Groovy Wheels

I love this bike. It was locked to a parking meeter in front of Real Food Daily on Santa Monica Blvd., a casual restaurant with a vegetarian menu. Hallalujah!

End of a Beautiful Day

The final delight was to meet Steve and Taylor for dinner and a long awaited get together at Bistro of Santa Monica -- which accommodates the vegan in me and my friend's taste for wild salmon. The other attractive thing about Bistro of Santa Monica, is that they don't pump loud music at the dinners. I love me some rock and roll but not when I'm trying to hear my friends talk. Instead they have a pianist who tinkled quiet arrangements of pop music with an easy listening twist. Sean was our delightful and handsome young waiter who tended to our every need flawlessly although we constantly teased him. At one point we all were laughing so loud the gentle and pleasant owner ambled back to our table. He was smiling but I had the sneaking suspicion he was about to make us eat at separate tables. We must have quieted down enough so he didn't make us move. I had Insalata Contadina (tomatoes, roasted bell pepper, baby onion, grilled eggplant, celery heart and fresh basil) that was huge and perfectly delicious. For dessert I had a luscious Raspberry sorbet, Taylor had the warm bread pudding and Steve had an sinful chocolate item. I don't know about them but my food was great.

It was a beautiful day.

Be Careful What Your Children Know That You Don't

2011-03-09T23:40:00.000-08:00

Here's this year's birthday card from my beloved and generous daughter.

Seems like a nice offer....

Until the card is opened...

Surprising sinister turn...

I laughed and laughed and laughed as I began to imagine several embarrassing scenarios where I could do nothing but fumble with my cell phone, make feeble excuses and pathetically try to turn off the several electronic choruses of "Happy Birthday".

I wasn't prepared for the "tee hee hee!" It makes me laugh every time I read it but I can't help but wonder what else she's been up to.

It's a beautiful thing.

Cooking Always Gets Me Into Trouble.

2011-03-08T22:34:00.000-08:00

I hate to cook. It always gets me into trouble but I accidently made an ain't-no-diet-today delicious pot of vegan spaghetti sauce. I don't know how it happened since I made it from scratch with no recipe. Of course, I am one-quarter Italian. Maybe that explains it.

I rarely cook but yesterday was an exception since I was out of boxes that say, "just add water" so I was forced to actually make a meal. If I could settle for a life time of oatmeal and Pop Tarts, I wouldn't have to cook. Cooking involves dangerously long and sharp knives, garlic aromas that linger longer on the finger tips than skunk stink on a cat, onion tears and fresh luminous vegetables -- the kind of fresh vegetables I impulse-buy at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market on Arizona and Second Street. In the midst of all those lovely vegetables, I'm dazzled by their vegan beauty and I forget that I always manage to slice off a tip of fingernail along with the mushrooms or slice myself while vivisecting the bell peppers. All I can remember is how delicious the vegetables are and I kind of disregard my distaste for the process it takes to make a pot or pan of anything. My relationship with cooking is something of a metaphor to the wisdom of a one-night stand. But I digress.

Ohhhhhhhh the temptation!

Today the sauce was in its better-the-second-day stage and simmers on the stove. At some point, it turned into a kind of magic elixir that requires repeated "does it need anything?" taste tests. I seem to have no ability to stop myself from visiting the pot for just one more 4 ounce ladle of sauce (no pasta) -- just in case it suddenly got better or worse or needs some additional herb. Since I live alone, there's no one to shame me into some form of self-discipline or to block my way to the kitchen. Therefore, the only way to stop me is to put locks on the kitchen doors that slam shut between 8pm and 9am. Of course, locked doors would block the only indoor path to the bathroom. An unavoidable midnight piddle would require a furtive, nightgown-clad trip out the front door, along the length of the bungalow to the brightly lit back door. Odds are, I'd lock myself out. I don't even want to think about the humiliation of being reported by the resident homeless guy in the alley for disturbing the peace, then being booked and printed for attempted breaking and entry while still in my nightgown. Cooking always gets me into trouble.

Santa Monica Farmer's Market's Tempting Items

The Birds Are Back!

2011-03-03T22:56:00.000-08:00

I have a special fondness for Birds of Paradise and I seem compelled to photograph them where ever and when ever I can. Santa Monica is a great place for Birds of Paradise. They're everywhere and I never tire of them.

Taken with my iPhone.

Santa Monica all a GLOW

2011-03-03T22:44:00.000-08:00

I am extremely delinquent, nearly 5 months, in posting this but here goes GLOW anyway.

Santa Monica hosted a half-day art event on Saturday, September 25, 2010 from 7pm to 3am or dawn, which ever showed up first. This is the second bi-annual Santa Monica GLOW art event and is located along Pacific Avenue (pier adjacent), the Santa Monica Pier and along beach path areas to the north and south of the pier. I had missed the first GLOW but was determined to be part of the 2010 variation.

Due to my inability to comprehend and explain "GLOW", beyond, "I'm not sure what it is but it'll be cool, `cause, trust me, everything in Santa Monica is cool except the impenetrable traffic" surprisingly, all of my friends had to either a) wash their cat/budgie/neighbor's gerbil, b) go visit their great grand-daddy's Civil War era untended grave site or c) paint the carport and would not be available to penetrate the traffic, battle for a parking spot or walk around at night to view something that sounds like a candy bar. I invited friends to see "GLOW" with me, sweetening the invite with an offer of my free parking via my guest parking permit and got no takers. Nevertheless, I walked the nine-tenths of a mile to the installation solo -- observing and chortling at the horrific traffic jam of cars along Broadway, Lincoln, and every cross street all the way to the beach.

SUV running the red light at the corner of 4th and Broadway.

Maybe it's just me but this event should be seen with a companion (preferably a friend, family member with whom you're on speaking terms or a crowd-friendly pet).

Soft and fuzzy companion -- apparently I couldn't be bothered to photograph the leash-holding human.

I happen to think Santa Monica always glows -- at night -- particularly between 4th St. and the Santa Monica Pier.

A View from the bluffs along Pacific Ave., overlooking the pier all dressed up by the GLOW event

here was a nearly full moon that night which served to heighten the FX glow.

The "1" globe tries to compete with the moon.

Moon in the upper left.

Holiday Inn sign reads "TASTE"

Then is changes to "HEAT"

Sitting, dancing and/or drinking in the street.

Strangers with iPhones

I realized I was standing next to 6 or 7 other visitors also iPhone-photo-ing the same installation I was, at the intersection of Colorado and Pacific Ave. (entrance to the Santa Monica Pier). I thought it'd be ironic and or funny if we all took iPhotos of each other with our iPhones and made the spontaneous request. I thought I caught sight of a quizzical look on each of their faces as the entire iPhone group vaporized in my iPhone iPhoto view finder.

I know. My inner child often scares young adults when she comes out to play.

More of the changing, glowing views projected on the Holiday Inn:

Green Giant says, "Think"

Multiple blue Marilyn Monroes

Full moon over the Santa Monica Pier

Yalla Truck offers healthy vegetarian food

Unfortunately, YallaTruck.com doesn't work any more, but you can follow their daily schedule on Twitter and Facebook.

Tunnel under the Pier

The Georgian Hotel

Thought to be haunted, The elegant Georgian Hotel alit in blue on Pacific Ave.

I just like this sign (hanging in the information kiosk)

Just enjoy - I have no idea what it is (other than art).

Pretty Blue glowy octopus-like light art.

Teenagers with Glow headgear.

The walk home along Broadway

Glow was just glowing. I loved walking around the Santa Monica Pier, the beach, Pacific Palisades, and Broadway at night -- and I didn't have to worry about parking!

Sunday in Santa Monica

2011-03-03T22:15:00.000-08:00

I love Sundays -- especially when I'm in Santa Monica. It's quiet, little traffic noise, I walk to the local grocery store to get my copy of the Los Angeles Times, and often walk around the neighborhood for a few pictures. There's always something to photograph in Santa Monica.

Happy Poppies

Under the Vons sign at Lincoln Blvd. and Broadway, the poppies bloom. One poppy has a green wriggly guest lounging in the warm sunshine.

Shimmering Calla Lily

Along Broadway, east of Lincoln Blvd. there are quietly stunning flowers and greenery.

Sunday afternoon in the park.
Pacific Palisades park overlooks the beach.

Spring starts early in Santa Monica

Content

Catalina from Santa Monica beach.

Catalina Island, where so many movies have been filmed (especially in the early decades of cinema), is usually only visible from Santa Monica in December when there's no marine layer to shroud it from view. It was a delight to see the island (just a background shadow behind the roller coaster) especially on the same day as the Academy Awards ceremony this year. Seemed appropriate.

February Showers Bring Santa Monica Flowers

2011-02-18T22:49:00.000-08:00

It's the second or third straight day of rain in Santa Monica and this is December weather! When the rain went from cold shower to drizzle, I took the opportunity to do my daily (sort of) walk-about. I noticed that blossoms have started popping all over despite the still-cool temperatures!

I don't know the name of most of these lovely plants but I am delighted by them just the same.

Yellow flowers seem to trumpet their beauty.

Blossoming jade plant.

Even Birds of Paradise have bad hair days when it rains.

Then there's this adventurous blossom, first on the tree to show its delicate pink, happy face.

I just love the flora and fauna of Santa Monica. It's never dull and I am always charmed by the surprise of newly opened flowers or cactus blooms.

It's like Spring only without the Spring temperatures.

I don't know what this is but it's wonderfully fragrant.

This handsome, regal cactus has an about-to-blossom red bulb where a flower will soon peek through.

A wild and wonderful orange-red plant, dripping in rain.

Santa Monica Rain

2011-02-16T22:18:00.000-08:00

Roiling grey-black clouds

Paints macadam-like bottoms

`cross blue-sky canvas.

Rain clouds.

Storm's here.

Walking Santa Monica

2011-02-08T22:43:00.000-08:00

Today, I saw two interesting things during my almost-daily walk-about in Santa Monica: coins in cement and a big blue angel. I'm somewhat aware of the story behind the big blue angel but not the coins in cement.

The big blue angel is actually a human-size sculpture that, I believe, was created as part of the 2000-2001 "Community of Angels" art project that sponsored the creation and placement of hundreds if not thousands of angels -- each one with a unique theme and name -- all over the City of Angels.

This angel currently lives outside Santa Monica's Angels Attic on Colorado and 5th St.

The basic angel shape was pretty much the same although some had halos, tin man bodies or other minor variations but each was "dressed" by different artists. There are several of these angel sculptures around Santa Monica. I have yet to find the name of this angel (close up it looks like it's covered in mostly blue marbles). As I recall, after the art project was officially over, many of the statues were auctioned off and moved to various locations around the Los Angeles basin. The book, "A Community of Angeles: Los Angeles" is a photographic history of the project and its resulting angels. Several web sites offer photos of some of these truly wonderful and imaginative angel sculptures.

Then, there are the five coins in cement. I would never have noticed them except I happen to have stopped right by them to contemplate the state of my untied shoe.

Five coins (top to bottom, left of center) cemented into the sidewalk along Wilshire Blvd., between 11th and 12th.

I would have had to get on my hands and knees to get a really good look (and photo) of the coins but from my vantage point, they appear to be five U.S. coins that were pushed into wet cement. The coins appear to be (from curb to store front): penny, penny, nickel, penny, dime. One wonders about the story behind the eighteen cents.

Today in Santa Monica

2011-02-07T22:01:00.000-08:00

I'm so lucky. Truly lucky. I live in Santa Monica, CA, and I LOVE where I live in Santa Monica. To be honest, I hate how the traffic has become horrendous and dangerous because the Santa Monica City Council did not plan well for the tremendous building growth the Planning Committee has allowed -- and I hate all the ugly "industrial" high-rises the Santa Monica Architectural Review Board has inexplicably approved -- but I love living in Santa Monica. I live just under one mile from the beautiful Pacific Ocean. I can (and do) walk to the grocery store, dry cleaners, deli, drug store, local tavern with 2 pool tables (I just learned to play), bank, post office, Coffee Tea and Bean (or as I like to call it, "Coffee, Tea and Me") and every specialty boutique shop you can imagine.

Today as I walked to the bank, deli and grocery store, I took iPhone pics to share a little of why I love living in and walking around Santa Monica.

Lovely pups waiting for their pack leaders to pick them up from "Healthy Spot".

Local tavern, PJ's Sports Bar & Grill, with 2 dart boards, 2 pool tables, jukebox, a grill and full bar.

For the longest time I just called this place, "the bar on the corner of 11th and Wilshire"; its signage is relatively small and they have no web site -- yet it manages to do a brisk business. It's just a neighborhood tavern in the middle of Santa Monica!

This is my dream "store"

where some of the most wonderful classic cars are shown (and sold) -- and then there's...

this wonderful red truck with palm tree reflections in the window.

More little Santa Monica surprises to follow.

2010-09-30T19:35:00.000-07:00

Recently I was asked this: what is the best screen kiss? My answer: it's a tie between the Colin Firth/Renee Zellweger kiss in "Bridget Jones's Diary" and the Joel McCrea/Jean Arthur kiss in "The More the Merrier." What's yours?

The Zen of Mr. BoJindo Sitting

2010-05-20T21:44:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, Friday, May 21, 2010, my beautiful daughter Nia will participate, fully capped and gowned, at Irvine Valley College's graduation ceremonies and will come away with an AS in Computer Management Information Systems. During the time she completed the course requirement she ran a business, moved from Orange County to Northern California, qualified for her local Search and Rescue group in El Dorado county, earned several computer networking certifications and attended to the daily demands of official pack leader to the mysterious Mr. BoJindo (a Korean Jindo dog, regarded as a national treasure in Korea).

Yesterday, Nia left Mr. BoJindo with me so I could care for him while she takes care of last minutes details. It's one of those things I'm glad to do, not just because I love this dog, but because it's something I can do in support of Nia's efforts. Now she can take a day or two to celebrate her achievement in public, in front of strangers and friends and me. Mr. BoJindo won't be there and that's a shame because he's a major force of comfort, direction, distraction and discipline in her life. He's been part of Nia's journey since 2002.

Mr. BoJindo is an exceptionally beautiful, incredibly smart dog, rarely barks, doesn't jump up on people or the furniture and can hold his pee for 24 hours. Despite this seemingly perfect dog, he has "rescue-dog" issues. What ever happened before Nia rescued him from a looming date with a needle, left a scar of fear in his dog-soul that we've never been able to help him overcome. He's a much more secure dog now than when Nia first got him but certain electronic sounds -- like microwave beeps -- still result in an immediate full-body fear-freakout attack of shaking and adrenaline-induced canine escape. The first time I left him alone in my apartment I returned two hours later to a half eaten couch. Some sound had freaked him while I was gone and he tried as hard as he could to escape the apartment by clawing at the back door then clawing and biting at the couch which blocked a possible window escape route. He's done much more damage in reaction to his fear -- the entire back seat of Nia's convertible has been re-decorated by Mr. BoJindo -- in that she no longer has a back seat. He's run away many times -- once in Runyon Canyon -- but he's always returned (although it looked like he had a dispute with a coyote when he returned from the Runyon Canyon romp).
Nia takes him almost everywhere, including vigorous hiking treks, attired in his red doggy backpack.

There's a tinge of resentment when Nia says her life has revolved around this dog -- not something she expected or wanted when she accepted the responsibility of being a rescue-dog owner -- annoyed at the memory of having to find him when he ran away, or having to teach him how to socialize with other dogs or having her car vandalized, but she never betrayed the bond that developed in Mr. BoJindo when he looked to her for his welfare. She could have returned him to the shelter. She could have found someone else to take him. Instead she chose to become the human Mr. BoJindo needed so this one creature could have a good life.

Nia has been cause in the matter of Mr. BoJindo's transformation from an insecure, nervous canine who didn't seem to know how to wag his tail, to a more secure, serene, trusting companion capable of teaching -- in the way dogs teach -- us to be better humans. Now he does a happy dance when Nia returns from some errand or puts her shoes on to take him for a walk. He actually spins in circles, snorts, jumps up in the air and twists around in one fluid movement, the whole time wagging his tail in the widest possible arc. I want to video tape the greeting -- he only does it for her -- because if his expression isn't one of pure joy, then there is no such thing. He has become her rescuer too. Through lonely times, financial hardship, threatening events, exhaustion, his presence in her life created demands and discipline that made her look outside herself, that indirectly demanded she was capable of giving, of achieving, of enduring just a bit more. In return Nia got to experience being a loving, committed, tender, powerful leader -- responsible for a life depending on and waiting for her.
With every challenge, every effort, every achievement in her life, I am ever more profoundly proud of Nia -- but the person she is today, she couldn't have become without Mr. BoJindo.
Sacramento State has accepted Nia for the Fall semester. I'm giddy at the notion she'll go on to complete her Bachelor's degree -- maybe even pursue a graduate degree. I don't know. What ever she decides to do, I know she'll do well. For her loved ones, tomorrow's ceremony is for celebration of what she's achieved so far. Nia's name will be called and her loved ones will rise to applaud, hoot and holler in support and appreciation. But one loved one will not be in the bleachers. Mr. BoJindo will spend that time at a PetSmart Doggy Hotel for a few hours because there are no accommodations at the school for four-legged friends no matter how vital to the measure of one's character, education and achievement.

Post script:Mr. BoJindo did not stay at a doggy hotel after all. Instead he stayed in the car (windows rolled down and plenty of water available) in the school's parking lot. Since the event was held out doors it was easy to check on him several times to make sure he was okay. When the ceremony was over, we got Mr. BoJindo out of the car and both graduate and companion could enjoy the occasion.

What's all the Fuss About the F.C.C.?

2010-04-07T13:21:00.000-07:00

Today's headlines: U.S. Courts Curbs F.C.C.'s Authority on Web Traffic

So, what's the big deal? Isn't this just big government trying to intervene with the "free market". Why should we be concerned? What's "net neutrality" got to do with me?

First -- what Comcast and the others want to do is block or discriminate against user's access to the web. If you like to visit You-Tube or Google news, your access will be limited or you'll be charged an extra fee when you do visit those web sites. These national ISPs (Internet Service Providers) are considering blocking those big bandwidth web sites when their customers reach an arbitrary amount of download for the month. So, you not only pay for the physical "pipe" and internet service provider that allows access, you also would pay for how much and what web sites you chose to visit. How long a "walk" is it to assume that, given the freedom to spend as much as they want on political campaigns, these broadband providers will block access to political blog sites, political action organizations or government web sites? It's a cheap way to control information and free speech. I know -- I am heavily influenced by George Orwell's "1984" -- I admit it. But this seems like a disaster waiting to happen gradually. This issue isn't dead. The F.C.C. may appeal the U.S. Court's decision. I hope they do -- and the F.C.C. needs to hear what tax payers think and want.

My position is, the tax payers "own" the internet. In the same way Ford did not build the roads upon which his cars drove, Comcast, Verizon, AT&T, Time Warner, et al. did not build, create or otherwise make the internet possible. Comcast, Time Warner, Verizon, etc. were created as free market businesses that made the internet commercially viable. They created a commodity: internet access. Nothing wrong with that -- it's entrepreneurship at its best. However, the American tax payers paid for the original infrastructure via the Defense Department and many academic entities made it usable for the public via standardized protocols for internetworking, software and hardware. When the general public originally got access there were no ISPs (internet service providers). ISPs were born out of a need for easy access that didn't require the knowledge of unix. As access to the internet became more popular many local ISPs were born. As browsers and portals were developed along with a way to find web pages that only required a domain name instead of an IP address, national ISPs like AOL and Earthlink quickly became ubiquitous. Eventually the companies that marketed the physical medium (cables and phone lines) saw the dollar signs and dove into the internet by offering their own in-house ISPs to their consumers who had to have a phone line or cable connection in order to have internet access. I acknowledge that corporations made the internet commercial but without the F.C.C. as a watchdog on behalf of the tax payer, for-profit corporations will do what they want to make more money, not to make the internet more accessible, faster, less expensive, etc. As we all know public corporations have repeatedly proven they cannot be trusted or expected to regulate themselves to benefit the consumer or do what's in the public's best interest. They only regulate themselves to benefit their shareholders -- which, of course, is their job. The internet access is now as vital a communication link as phone service (the infrastructure for which was also originally paid for by tax payers) was until the internet.
If you still defend the corporations, look at history. Back when AT&T was broken up and the phone system turned over to 7 regional Baby Bells, the F.C.C. required, among other things, that each Baby Bell maintain, repair and build out the phone system infrastructure in their trust. Today there are still huge rural areas with growing populations in this country where the phone system has not improved since the 1950's. You need look no further than Victorville and Twenty-nine Palms, CA, where some residents have been told they will have to pay thousands of dollars to have Verizon bring a phone line from the nearest pole to their home so they can have a working phone. There are portions of Playa del Rey, CA, that cannot get DSL because Verizon add or install the equipment required for DSL. They've had 10 years to install the equipment but they haven't because it'll be too expensive. Yet, Verizon is decommissioning DSL equipment in areas where fiber optics has been deployed. It's hard to see Verizon's side of the argument when they make such stupid choices about the service they provide -- or won't provide. They benefit from our tax dollars (take a look at the tax breaks and federal grants these telecommunication corporations get) but, like the banks, won't ever consider the public's best interest. That would be like expecting a crocodile to be vegan. Where once hundreds of millions of Americans paid pennies in taxes to deploy phone service across the entire country, the telcos' version of "building out" is to demand a few under-served people pay thousands to have the same phone access as the vast majority in this country. Unfortunately, the "free market" can never see beyond the next fiscal quarter. It doesn't take much thought to understand it's in the best interest of everyone to have access to both phone and the internet without being charged unaffordable infrastructure or access costs.

Had a company like Comcast or Verizon been given the contract to create a phone system across the U.S. back in the early part of the 20th Century, you can bet your last dollar only the richest individuals and corporations would have phone or internet service today. Net neutrality is not about government controlled internet access. It's about regulating what corporations do to those who pay for access. If the corporations are not regulated on behalf of the consumers, we may become like today's Italy where all the TV, newspapers and radio outlets are owned by one person -- who happens also to be the head of the country. Glenn Beck's got it exactly backwards. Net neutrality promotes and preserves free speech.

It's clear I'm not on the side of the broadband providers. I don't own stock in any public company and I work for a local privately held, family-run ISP so I'm both informed and biased in my viewpoint. If net neutrality is thwarted, my company will most likely benefit because those dissatisfied with VerizonOnLine, Comcast, TimeWarner etc. will switch to us or other local ISPs. My view is from a tax paying consumer's point of view.
We need the F.C.C to regulate the internet on behalf of the tax payers who -- knowingly or not -- paid for the internet infrastructure. There are other organizations whose view is more expansive and erudite than mine and well worth reading: FreeTheInternet.com (part of FreePress.net) and ColorOfChange.org are two. Here's a link to the F.C.C.

To be more informed, here's a site that lists arguments for and against net neutrality: http://net.educause.edu/ir/library/pdf/EPO0633.pdf. Take a read and make up your own mind.

Beating Bumper-to-Bumper Traffic

2010-01-22T20:00:00.000-08:00

I love it!

Congress Should Abort H.R. 3962

2009-11-15T22:11:00.000-08:00

Abortion is an extremely difficult, private and highly sensitive issue. To some it's an issue used as a political and religious rallying call for fundraising and a flash point for both the sincerest of believers and those who make a living spewing inflammatory rhetoric. This is not a simple black-or-white issue. Even those who've gone through an abortion do not all have the same opinion about whether a woman's right to choose should be governed by powerful lawmaking strangers or if a woman has the inalienable right to govern her own body.

First, despite what any man, religious leader, teacher, media mogul, doctor, social group, family member may say, this is, intrinsically, a woman's issue that must be faced at one of the most vulnerable moments in a woman's life. One might argue that regardless of the woman's situation, the choice is made under medical and/or emotional duress. Other's may be involved but until the day a male can get pregnant, pregnancy and all it's accompanying physical manifestations, conditions and complications are unique to women. The only sacrifice a man makes to a pregnancy is a teaspoon of wriggly sperm bits. The woman's entire body is sacrificed to the effort of growing a baby. I love men, but for this topic: all men need to shut up and stay out of this issue.

According to a study of mortality rates in pregnant women, every minute across the planet a woman dies during labor or delivery. One abortion detail I've never heard thoroughly discussed is the medical necessity for abortion. All abortions are part of the medical discipline (except the egregious and illegal back alley abortions). Birth control pills and abortion pills (RU 486) -- both pharmaceuticals -- required extensive medical tests and trials as part of the Federal Drug Administration's approval protocols. Abortion is often necessary due to a condition unique to pregnant women called eclampsia where, among other causes, the fetus produces a protein that seriously endangers the mother's life. As of 2008, records show that worldwide, eclampsia is responsible for 12% of deaths in women during labor, delivery or post-delivery. Research also demonstrates that pre-eclampsia, the more dangerous variation of this condition, occurs in as many as 10% if all pregnancies. There's no sure way to predict who will be afflicted although there are some common factors. Eclampsia can occur as early as 20 weeks into pregnancy although it's more common to show up in the second or third trimester of pregnancy. Even though this condition is as old as Eve, doctors still can only diagnose the condition and treat the symptoms (high blood pressure, blood clots, muscle aches, brain damage, pain, seizures and much more). Despite that, virtually no significant funding campaign has been dedicated to eclampsia research so this hellacious condition can be prevention or cured. The only cure is for the mother to miscarry or give birth -- which often also kills the mother and/or the child. Other than that, the only other option a doctor has in order to save the mother's life is to remove the fetus via a surgical procedure -- which is an abortion.

With late term abortions outlawed, more women will die. I should say, more women have died because late term abortions have been outlawed. The incendiary prejudice against the procedure shamelessly spouted by religious leaders, "no-choice" groups, lawmakers and political pundits have done so at the cost of women's lives. What about those women? Don't they have any right to life when afflicted with a potentially life-threatening condition? The House health "care-less" bill, H.R. 3962 wants to exclude coverage for abortions. The bill would actually remove rights women have today. If that clause in the bill is not removed, women who are unlucky enough to be afflicted with eclampsia or pre-eclampsia will have to pay for the long term treatment and surgery out of pocket. So on top of enduring the agony of the condition, mourning the loss of a pregnancy, possibly a miscarriage or still birth, women must also cough up the tens of thousands of dollars for a procedure that saved her life.

Another potentially fatal condition during pregnancy is ectopic pregnancy where the fertilized egg imbeds in a Fallopian tube, the cervix, the abdomen, even in an ovary -- anywhere other than where it's supposed to be -- in the uterus. This happens with 1% of pregnancies. The mortality rate for a woman with an ectopic pregnancy is not as high as for a woman with pre-eclampsia or eclampsia. However, the mortality rate for the fetus is 100% because a fetus must be removed. Otherwise it will kill the mother. The removal of a fetus from the Fallopian tube is known as a tubal abortion. Another case where a condition exclusive to women -- pregnancy and all the associated medical complications -- is subject to exclusion in the House's version of the health "care-less" bill.

These are just two of the many complications and conditions unique to pregnancy, several of which require a form of abortion in order to prevent devastating or fatal harm to the mother.

The pro-choice position is to maintain the legality of a woman's right to choose what happens to her body in relation to pregnancy. The anti-abortionists want the legal rights of a fetus to trump those of the woman from whose body the growing fetus is nourished. Where is the equivalent law that trumps the rights of the male, from whose sperm the fetus is forming? The anti-abortionists want to give special legal privilege to both the fetus and the man involved in a pregnancy and remove a fundamental right from the woman who bears the fetus.

Making abortions illegal will not satisfy anti-abortionists. Some of the extremists in their crowd demand that birth control pills (not condoms) should be outlawed because birth control pills prevent sperm access to a ready egg (98% of the time). There will always be that next invasion of privacy and removal of rights over which to campaign.

Having listened to arguments on both sides of the abortion issue, it seems clear that the solution is to make abortions medically unnecessary not to just maintain the status quo or make abortions illegal or blow up abortion clinics and murder doctors while claiming to save babies. These medical conditions have killed women and babies since the first woman gave birth and are still killing our beloved women and babies. Awareness of these pregnancy-related medical conditions should be raised by both camps. Money should be raised to fund research that would cure or prevent all complications related to pregnancy. I would actually respect the "right-to-lifers" and take their message seriously if they made that effort. I would also respect anti-abortionists if they spent their collective energy manifesting an eternal fountain of wise and loving parents who would adopt, love and protect every child born from an unwanted pregnancy. Excluding abortions in the health "care-less" bill will not solve anything. It won't prevent women from needing and obtaining abortions. It won't prevent one abortion. It's likely to cause the death of more women than already die from pregnancy complications.

Right now the anti-abortion language in H.R. 6920 occurs to me as a transparent manipulation to return women into their earlier second-class, servile chattel status. It's not that surprising that it took 144 years after the Declaration of Independence for women to get the right to vote in this country's national elections.

But that's just my opinion -- and everybody's got one of those.

In Celebration of Civil Disobedience

2009-11-05T22:20:00.000-08:00

In defiance of the law, Susan B. Anthony became the first American woman to cast a vote in a Presidential election on this date, November 5th, in 1872. Thirteen days later a U.S. Deputy Marshall arrested her for voting illegally. Her life was dedicated to assuring equal rights under the law for women.

She didn't live long enough to see the ratification of the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution which declared:

"The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex."

When ever women vote in this country Susan B. Anthony lives.

Thank you, Susan B. Anthony

L.A. Dreamin'

2009-11-04T15:20:00.000-08:00

I like to blog about all-things Santa Monica but today, I broaden my passion for where I live to include Los Angeles -- and I actually love L.A., warts and all (not as much as Santa Monica -- but I digress). I read Matthew Fleischer's article in today's Los Angeles Times, "Imagine: L.A. Bicyclists in the Driver's Seat, One Day a Week". The opportunity to create something no one would believe L.A. could or would do has been suggested by a volunteer group of bicyclists called "cicLAvia" -- an idea born in Bogata, Colombia, 30 years ago! Los Angeles has fewer parks, per square mile, than even New York City! The statistics for child-asthma and obesity are escalating with ever-decreasing support for physical education in public schools starting with kindergarten. The rest of the world, including many who live here, consider L.A. devoid of community. Neighbors can live next door to each other for years and never know each other's names. Many come to L.A., on their way to somewhere else or as an "escape from" destination where one can disappear in a metropolitan jungle. Many, though, come here to build anew, to reinvent, to create something powerful and lasting. One day a week won't reverse the negative trends for lifestyle, health, economy and general pride for where one lives. Yet it cannot be denied how amazing it would it be if one day a week only pedestrians and bicyclists travel major L.A.'s streets. It's thrilling to think about it. If that's too crazy an idea then, how about one day a week when only pedestrians, motor-less and electric vehicles can travel the streets? Still too hard to imagine? How about one `burb at a time takes on the challenge? It's so easy to conjure reasons it won't work. There'd still be accidents because lousy drivers are lousy drivers no matter what kind of locomotion they use. Many Angelenos get bent out of shape if they're inconvenienced one Sunday a year when 26.2 miles of L.A.'s streets are reserved for the L.A. Marathon. Still, this is an exciting idea with tons of benefits to share. Political and civic cooperation as well as the will to work through the obstacles can make it happen. Besides some L.A. political leaders including Mayor Villaraigosa, groups like Community Arts Resources, California Foundation and Green L.A. Institute are looking for ways to make this cicLAvist dream come true for this city. Like everything new in life, it starts with a dream.

"Born to Run"

2009-10-27T23:01:00.000-07:00

I flew to Chicago 10/8/09 to attend a dear cousin's wedding. I saw my "Better-than-Sister" cousin Cecilia (the one I wrote about in an earlier post) and met her daughter's three-year-old daughter, Aislinn, for the first time! I had a wonderful time and felt very satisfied to attend cousin Christopher's wedding. He married a delightful woman, Julie, who shares his love of community theater. Christopher's a wonderful young man and I love and admire him deeply even though we haven't spent that much time together.

During the flight to Chicago and before falling asleep each night while I was there, I read a newly published book, "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougall.

I'd seen Christopher McDougall interviewed on "The Daily Show" talking about how he came to write the book and I was surprised to learn it's not about Bruce Springsteen. As an ex-marathoner, I was not that enthused about reading the book, whose sub-title is "A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen." Anyone who can no longer complete marathons due to health issues will understand this. I don't want to read a book about training for marathons. Marathons were a love-hate relationship for me but it's a heartbreak not to be able to participate in those hellish events any more. Anyway -- it was clear Jon Stewart had read the book and he was very enthusiastic about it saying something like, "This is a book for everyone..." or something like that. I was intrigued enough -- and I trust Jon Stewart's taste in books -- that I looked up the book on Amazon.com and added it to my wish list for a future trip to the library.

A few weeks later, out of the blue, my friend, "E", sent the book to me! I thanked "E" and told her I'd read it after I was done with Ted Kennedy's thoroughly riveting biography, "True Compass" but she insisted I read "Born to Run" right away. So, a day later, begrudgingly (because I've come to recognize that "E" is always right so I just follow orders), I started zip-reading through the first two chapters. I wasn't impressed. It wasn't until half-way through Chapter 3 that I finally began to understand why my friend insisted I read it right away. A few days later, when I got on the plane for Chicago, I was about a quarter of the way through the book and feeling very resentful towards anything that kept me from reading the book.

This book's title makes sense (especially at the end of the book) but does not do the story justice. "Born to Run" appeals to athletes, runners, marathoners and ultra-marathoners -- and Bruce Springsteen fans -- but this IS a book for everyone -- men, women, teens, teachers, bankers, politicians and anyone dealing with health issues -- not just runners or marathoners. It's a mystery, a quest, an adventure, history, crime, health and diet, anthropology, disease, joy, love and bliss. I plan to send this book to friends and family just because it's a GREAT read and I want everyone to be as mesmerized and amazed as I was reading this story. It's unforgettable. Towards the end of the book I began to slow my reading down because I didn't want it to end. I'm sure I'll read "Born to Run" many times.

Hamsters Power the Internets?

2009-10-25T16:27:00.000-07:00

Just before I get ready to update my blog with all kinds of serious thoughts, I make the mistake of catching up with "Cute Overload" and "LOL Cats". Inevitably I find something so utterly charming and adorable, that I opt to share the irresistibleness of pets over the never ending outrage in my head. Next blog will be about bad opera -- I promise. For now, enjoy a delightful selection from HamsterTracker.com (I love hamsters -- I can't help it).

If I feed you parsley, will you unclog the Innernets? Please? [Grabbing cilantro just in case.]

Thanks, Mathijs and Lucy 4.0 over at HamsterTracker, where Lucy helps power the Internets on her wheel, one meter at a time. At press time, Lucy’s at 146,119.47 meters in 48 days.

Cat Sass

2009-10-18T21:20:00.000-07:00

Who ever said YouTube is a useless waste of time clearly didn't know what's what:

Thank you, YouTube!

Sonic Ka-BOOM!

2009-10-01T00:00:00.000-07:00

Last month the Shuttle Discovery returned from its mission to re-supply the International Space station. Due to uncooperative weather, instead of returning to its home in Florida it was diverted to the ever-sunny Edwards Air Force Base in California. I've always wanted to watch the Shuttle -- any NASA Shuttle -- land there. I knew NASA might re-route "Discovery" to Edwards so I planned to drive there to watch the Shuttle land. It landed there alright, but I only found out about 3 hours before the landing and it's a 5 hr. drive from Santa Monica. Drat! However, I did HEAR Discovery because its flight path was somewhere over Los Angeles on the way to Edwards. It startled me and reminded me of the first time I heard a sonic boom.

My mom, U.S. Air Force dad and I lived in Columbus, OH, -- I was about 12 or 13 at the time. I was at home alone, in the kitchen fixing a snack when a tremendous booming blast hit the neighborhood. It was not only loud, it felt like the house was slightly lifted from its foundation and gently shaken like a Godzilla-sized martini. It scared me and I was completely disoriented by the combination of unexpected and very loud sound and vibration. I stood there, frozen, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened and I finally "decided" that the attached garage must have collapsed -- and I was sure my mother would blame me somehow so I was frantically calculating how to point the finger of blame at our young German Shepherd and three cats.

Once I was relatively confident there wouldn't be another bang/shake event, I opened the front door tentatively, gingerly stepped out onto the front yard, looked around the neighborhood in case it was a neighbor's house that had collapsed then warily looked toward our garage. I was both surprised and relieved to see the garage completely safe and sound just as all the other structures along the street. Anyway, I was pretty sure I could never convince my mother the family pets were somehow responsible had the garage actually collapsed! I spent the next few hours trying to figure out what in the world that ear shattering, earth rattling could have been. When Mom and Dad returned home later that day I was a bubbling caldron of words trying to explain the fearsome bang, and the shaking and then I heard Dad say, in his ever-so-casual-all-knowing way, "Oh, you probably heard the sonic boom..." I knew what a sonic boom was, I simply couldn't believe breaking the sound barrier could be so violent and insisted it had to be something else. A nuclear bomb test maybe -- something with a dark, rising cloud at the very least. Dad assured me, yes indeed, he knew about the flight but had forgotten to mention it and after all, we lived under one of the final approaches to what was then Lockbourne AFB, so the aircraft was actually not that far away. Dad started to explain the event with math and my eyes glazed over. I don't remember much after that. Even then I tended to blackout whenever someone tried to dazzle me with numbers and formulas. The end result was, I never forgot that sound and vibration and math still turns me comatose.

Mr.BoJindo Thinks He's Invisible

2009-09-28T10:52:00.000-07:00

http://www.cutestdogcompetition.com/vote.cfm?h=BC51621BDCD7F7553485E2BF3F33EA91

My daughter's dog -- who I may have now photographed more than her -- is Mr. BoJindo and I've entered him in a Cutest Dog Contest. Please vote early and often (really -- you can vote at least once a day).

Ponytail

2009-09-23T21:00:00.000-07:00

Ponytail shadow swings

To the beat of cushioned feet

On the way back home.

And Now For Something Completely Feline...

2009-09-22T18:43:00.000-07:00

Credit and a sincere thank you to Gerald "Gerry" Pugliese and his indispensable, informative and fascinating blog DiseaseProof.com.

Twisted by Twizzlers

2009-09-22T18:34:00.000-07:00

Okay, I have to admit I was astonished when a good friend of mine with whom I'd been roommates for several years, ask me, "What's a Twizzler?". I thought she remembered my love/hate battle with "The Twizzler." For those dear readers who have the same question, here's a photo:

(thank you < www.diseaseproof.com/ archives/2008/04/> for the photo)

This hunk of red, chewy, snake-like sweetness is vegan but so full of high-fructose-corn-syrup (HFCS) that I'm embarrassed to admit it I find them so yummy and almost impossible to resist. If you haven't heard or read or heard about the health concerns related to HFCS, it's probably a good idea to look into it. I'm a former marathoner, horseback rider, champion bowler, golfer (including the miniature variety), sailor, swimmer, ping-pong player, power walker and I'm vegan so one would think I only eat the kind of healthy stuff that honors my body-as-temple life style. Well, I do eat healthy (no sodas, no animal products, fresh veggies, fruit, nuts), but The Twizzler is my nemesis. For me, it's like the sun to a vampire -- like donuts to Homer Simpson -- it's my most dangerous high-fructose-corn-syrup (HFCS) guilty pleasure weakness to which "resistance is futile".

Ok, I exaggerate. I can resist Twizzlers if:

There aren't any in my residence or
I they're not on 2-for1 sale at a nearby local store or
I read the ingredients on the package

I recently read an article about a general behavior modification technique that utilizes a 3-tap sequence over 9 body locations. It might just help me on the battlefield, face-to-face with The Twizzler.

The idea is that you repeatedly verbalize what behavior you want to embrace while tapping 3 times on each of the following body parts:

Outside edge of the hand (where a karate chop is centered)
Inside eyebrow
Outside the eyebrow edge
Under eye (center)
Center of the dip between the end of the nose and upper lip
Center of the chin
Collar bone
Under arm
Top of the head

I figure it's worth a try even if I look like a loon during the confrontation.

Wealth Insurance vs. "Promote the General Welfare"

2009-09-22T13:38:00.000-07:00

The public would find it edifying if the media always included the amount of health insurance campaign contributions any member of Congress received, every time they talk about the health care reform -- especially when it comes time for a vote. It could be right next to their political party and state -- so the American voters can connect the dots.

Some time ago Congress turned over the health care of its citizens to for-profit corporations with the mistaken belief that "free market" would provide low cost/high quality health care. It's been decades now and every year those with health insurance have turned over an increasingly larger percentage of their hard-earned income to profit-driven health insurance corporations only to get less coverage, more claim denial and pay more out of pocket. Congress knows this yet every year neglects to provide more than lip service to their constituents while the health insurance companies thrive, deliver higher investor returns and astronomical CEO salaries. This is not free market, it's criminal. The free-market theory hasn't worked for health insurance just as cutting taxes and the "trickle-down" theories haven't helped the economy. Medicare needs to be opened to anyone in order to create a level playing field for the American people.

The concept of triggers is a ruse. Health insurance companies will wriggle out of legal constraints or mandates by dragging the whole concept through the courts, further delaying health care reform. The health insurance industry has had more than 15 years to fix their punitive policies and practices since the Clinton administration tried to pass universal health care. The health insurance industry knew they'd dodged a bullet then and had the opportunity to self-regulate and reform knowing this issue would not go away. Nevertheless, they chose to conduct business as usual. The insurance industry is no more willing or able to regulate itself than the banks or any profit-driven corporation. Expecting corporations to deliver affordable health care over profits is like accepting a ride across a flooding river on the back of a crocodile and expecting it not to eat you. Health insurers are corporations are and will always be driven by profits.

Medicare must be opened to the public or a non-profit public option created that will provide affordable health insurance coverage and real competition to corporations. Nothing less can, to quote the Preamble to the U.S. Constitution, "promote the general welfare" of American citizens and nothing else is worthy of the American people.

Costal Cleanup Adventure

2009-09-20T16:32:00.000-07:00

Saturday, September 19, 2009 was annual Coastal Cleanup Day (as mentioned my 8/26/09 post "Human Scrubbee Bubbles!"). My camera ran out of battery juice right after the first unintended photo taken of my thumb and my iPhone was very low on battery too so I only used it for a single Tweet -- so no photos of the day.

I was at Santa Monica Beach about 9 AM with gloves, trash bags, hat, sea breeze in my face, sand in my shoes and a determination to leave the beach a little cleaner than I'd found it. The day was a combination of fun, exercise, exhilaration followed by a sinking feeling that all the effort was a mere drop in the ocean (no pun intended). I was assigned to a group of 5 others, all of whom were family members. I was so impressed that a mother and father brought their children (ages 8, 9 and 11) all the way from East Los Angeles, to take part in this effort. I asked what inspired them to volunteer. Marco, the father, told me once a month they pack a meal and spend most of the day at the beach just to get a break from the heat and congestion of their neighborhood. Besides, it gave them an extra opportunity to visit the beach and a chance to say thank you to the beach and ocean. Talk about your better angels! I mentioned that I live less than a mile from the beach, the 3 children said I was lucky. I told them I remind myself every morning how lucky I am and I thought to myself that I never travel inland for a "break" from the ocean. Indeed I am lucky.

I was less astonished by the mountains of bagged trash we ended up with than what kind of trash it was. There were pieces of clothing, especially socks, various tubes of sunscreen, pieces of jewelry (hoop earrings, toe ring, ankle bracelet), tubes of lip balm, butane lighters, cigarette butts, yogurt containers, plastic bottles, bundles of matted fishing line, bottle caps, tampons and thousands of plastic grocery bags, etc (what ever is in your garbage today is an example of what we found on the beach). What was distressing to me were the huge number of plastic six pack rings. Long ago I learned those six pack rings are lethal to birds, fish, turtles, all marine life in general. The ring hole is just big enough to get caught around a creature's body part and cut into flesh. When ever I see one on the ground, I pick it up and rip it so they become a single large, less lethal trap for wildlife. There were so many, though not as many as the number of plastic bags, that I felt a sense of finger-in-the-dike-pessimism. Some of this trash was left by accident, some flew on the breeze from an open garbage bin, down an alley and onto the beach. Most of it washed up on the beach like an undelivered gift returned to sender for disposal.

Nevertheless, the noble and worthwhile effort to clean up the trash around beaches, rivers and waterways should not be tinged with anything but enthusiasm and should expand even further. It's a well organized national effort and one in which I felt privileged to participate. One that should, perhaps, be expanded to more than once a year. There will always be those who don't care about what their trash does to their own environment and there will be those who do. I choose to be one who cares. Cleaning up garbage bags and six pack rings when you're by yourself declares a kind of unwillingness to abandon hope. When you're part of a larger group like yesterday, focused on the same effort, that single ray of hope opens up to tidal wave.

I know there are regular mechanical sweeps of our streets and the beach to collect trash but I also know there are numerous trash barrels on the beach into which many people will not bother to deposit their trash. I learned a great deal yesterday up-front-and-personal about how much trash litters our beaches and I also learned how much damage our collective trash can cause. It's one thing to read about it or imagine it -- it's a whole different matter to repeatedly pick it up, smell it, hold it in your hands, be disgusted by it and defiantly stuff it into a garbage bag and take it away like a convicted criminal. Just because we bag, bury or burn our trash does not minimize the damage caused to people, wildlife and ecosystems. It occurs to me that bigger solutions are needed. Recycling is wonderful but it's at the mercy of the economy. When the economy is bad, fewer manufacturers purchase it, the price for recyclable paper, plastic, glass and aluminum trash goes down and becomes less attractive for those who collect and turn it in. The effort to ban plastic grocery bags seems worth while. I bring my cloth bags with me when I grocery shop now, but from what I've seen. most people still use plastic bags. If most shoppers don't bring cloth bags with them, how many return their plastic bags to those collection bins in front of grocery stores? I suspect they just end up in garbage bins and easily fly out when the bin is turned upside down and dumped into the trash collection truck.

This is no news to environmentalists but my participation yesterday personalized the experience. As a child, Rachel Carson was the first writer who opened my eyes to the philosophy of human responsibility toward our planet. A quote of hers comes to mind:

“We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost's familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road-the one less traveled by-offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of the earth.”

Bagging trash beside three delightful, thoughtful, well-mannered children (Joe Wilson could have learned from these youngsters) and their loving parents was the best thing I could have done with my time yesterday. I may have left the beach a little cleaner yesterday, but more importantly I came home a better person.

Will Fins Ever Return?

2009-09-17T17:30:00.000-07:00

I love classic cars. Actually, I love cars even before they become classic or antique. If I could figure out how to do it, I'd drive a different car ever week. I'd love to be involved in designing cars inside out. Of course I rarely drive now because I can walk almost everywhere I need to go because I was so lucky to live where I live in Santa Monica -- less than a mile from the Santa Monica Pier, the Santa Monica Promenade, Santa Monica College, blocks from the city library, Farmer's Market, dry cleaners, art galleries, delicious restaurants, movies, groceries, dry cleaners, wine market -- but I digress.

I saw this car in an alley off Wilshire Blvd. and 11th (thereabouts) and had to stop to look at it.

The car was in the shadows so the photos aren't very good, but as I got closer to the car and my smile got wider and wider, I just had to whip out my iPhone to take pics. The owner was just returning to the car as I took the second of a series of photos. I told him I write a blog about (other things) things I see in Santa Monica and asked if it was okay to include photos of his car. He sweetly agreed even though I was delaying his departure he patiently waited for me to finish taking photos. I should have taken a photo of him in the car. Dang. Next time. Then he thanked ME for admiring his car! Isn't that sweet? I thanked him for maintaining this beauty so meticulously for others to admire and ogle. It's history on wheels.

Is this what's known as a land shark? I found myself wondering we'll ever see fins on cars again. I'm not sure what they did -- other than look sleek and scary -- and I'll bet there are tons of reasons they'll never return because most cars today are about functionality and fuel consumption (nothing wrong with that). This car, which I think is a 1960ish Plymouth Fury just delighted me. It came from an era of cars with fins and I remember when they were new on the road. In my pre-teen mind there seemed like a relationship between fin size and pocket book. Nevertheless, I love the gender bending design elements of pointy fins and curvy bits (especially the steering wheel) all in one car.

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the steering wheel. I know, no air bags, no padded dash, no cd or cassette player, no GPS and no iPod connector. Still, there's a wonderful quality of elegant lines, angles.

The gauge display is awesome. When this car was new it must have felt like driving in a "Star Trek" episode. Note the absence of seat belts. I wonder how the engine does on unleaded gas.

Pervasiveness of TiVo

2009-09-16T00:01:00.000-07:00

I'm not ashamed to admit, I love TiVo. I wasn't the first in my immediate circle of friends to get TiVo because -- as usual -- I didn't "get" it. I read about what it did and how it worked but I didn't get excited about it and I couldn't wrap my head around why TiVo was so much more than a super-charged VCR. If TiVo had rolled out its product the way Apple rolled out the first iPod or iPhone, I'd have been much closer to the front of the TiVo line, but I digress.

I learned that a TiVo DVR would need to be purchased and a relatively modest monthly subscription fee assessed. The first person I knew to get TiVo was a family member who, the day after getting it said, "Trust me, you need TiVo -- you'll never regret it and your life will never be the same." I should have gotten TiVo'd up right then and there because this person had never been wrong in the past -- so you'd think I'd learn. After all this was the same family member who's dragged me, through generosity and love, kicking, screaming, moaning, huffing, puffing and otherwise whining into a pteradactyl-free life. I should have simply opened my wallet and made the plunge with that one enthusiastic, unqualified, endorsement. I was, however, pig-headedly unmoved. I just couldn't justify the expense, especially since I didn't see the need. I admit it's fun and cool to be the first person to get the next new gizmo but I was uninspired. My VCR recorded any program I didn't want to miss. I heard Jon Stewart of "The Daily Show" talk about TiVo in terms that were nearly incandescent and I have to admit his reverent endorsement pushed me a teensy bit closer to TiVo enlightenment. Even then, I didn't act.

It took a Mother's Day to get me to TiVo. On Mother's Day 200-I-forget-what-year, I got a TiVo DVR and a year's pre-paid subscription as a present from my wonderful, generous, thoughtful child. As promised -- ever since then my life has not been the same. Skipping past advertisements is the least of TiVo thrills. I can watch an already recorded program while yet another one is recording. I love that I can create a wish list of titles/actors/directors/topics that interest me and have them record automatically. I can pause what's on TV for up to 30 minutes, go do something else, come back and pick up where I left off. I can run a slide show of the photo collection from my hard drive to my TV. I can play iTunes music on my TV. I can transfer my podcast videos to TiVo and watch them on my TV instead of the computer. I can schedule a show to record using my iPhone or over the internet. I won't list everything but suffice to say, I love my TiVo and I'm always astonished when I meet someone who doesn't have it.

Here's the thing though. I'm so used to multi-tasking as I "watch" TV, that I often miss what was said and immediately pick up the remote to replay it. I've become so reliant on the replay feature that today I found myself reaching for the car radio to replay something I'd just missed on the news. Frequently I'll rewind to hear something I missed, only to get distracted by my computer or the newspaper or my homework so that I' have to replay the same segment multiple times. Kind of defeats the whole multi-tasking thing. I've even found myself looking for the replay button in the immediate aftermath of a face-to-face-conversation. I think TiVo has eroded my ability to stay focused and "present". It's the creeping pervasiveness of TiVo replay.

Nevertheless, my life has never been the same now that I have TiVo and its remote will be the last thing pried from my cold, dead hands.

Craig Ferguson Said it So Much Better...

2009-09-12T16:23:00.000-07:00

I wrote a gagillion verbose and yet pithy words about the rudeness of Joe Wilson and Eric Cantor during the President's speech to a joint session of Congress on September 9, 2009. Yesterday the comedy division of Huffington Post (bet you didn't know they have a whole department devoted to comedy) posted Craig Ferguson's monologue from 9/10/09 in which he mused about the rudeness of Joe Wilson during the President's speech. While he mentioned a few of the same things I raged about in my blog, his monologue about the shout out said in a few minutes what I tried to say only he conveyed it more succinctly and brilliantly. It's an example of the power of well crafted comedy. YouTube only has half of the monologue and CBS has commercials. Click on the photos below and watch the whole 6:49 minutes. It's well worth it.

Craig Ferguson on Joe Wilson

The Security of Illusion

2009-09-12T14:40:00.000-07:00

As I drove home today from Trader Joe's, I happened to listen to Krista Tippett, the host of NPR's "Speaking of Faith", interview Mary Doria Russell about how she discerns God. I always enjoy this show when I happen to hear it even though I no longer attend church, having long ago made the conscious choice to carry my church "on my back" -- so to speak -- to live a life that follows the Golden Rule 24/7 instead of just on Sunday. Regardless, I often carry on existential explorations in my head about God. I found today's broadcast provocative and thought I would expand on it for today's post. However, before I got started with my own, I read my friend's blog (as I do most every day), "The Gurly Life", and discovered she already blogged about the same broadcast and topic! The author of "The Gurly Life" and I are dear friends but we live on the opposite sides of an incomprehensibly humongous, traffic-challenged metropolis and we both lead very different life styles so it's a succulent serendipity that we were both driving our Priuses (I in my dark green 2001 model and she in her red 2009), at the same hour, listening to the same radio channel. What is not surprising is that our respective reactions to the broadcast would be the same ("must blog about this..."). Is this evidence that great minds do indeed think alike or have thousands of bloggers across the planet blogged about this topic in the aftermath of today's broadcast? Of course, I'm not really blogging about it because after reading her blog, I have nothing more to add. I do recommend listening to the broadcast and then, for dessert, reading "The Gurly Life"'s equally provocative and witty observations, "Some god thoughts".

Instead, I'll yap about the illusion of security. I am of two minds regarding gated communities, barred windows and electronic security in general. My first reaction is, "what a good way to protect one's self and belongings from the dangers of the world." My second reaction is that these precautions and safety measures create a false sense of safety, a false sense of the world and reinforce fear. I'm not critical of those who choose to live in gated enclosures, use Lo Jack or ADT, I'm just torn.

In late 1990 the rear passenger window of my lovely 1975 Honda Civic was smashed by some creep who wanted my stuff, and he stole about $200 worth of newly dry cleaned clothes along with some love letters from a boy friend, my prescription sunglasses and a pair of jumper cables. I'd locked the car but it had no alarm. If I'd left the car unlocked, it's quite likely the window would not have been obliterated. As it turned out, the damage was less than my insurance deductible (isn't that always the case?) but costly enough to put a huge crimp in my budget. For six months I drove around with a duct-taped garbage bag for a passenger window -- and I'm sure it's illegal to drive a car with a garbage bag window -- before I could afford to have it replaced. I think the specific saint who protects driver's from being ticketed must have been my guardian angel for those months. Every car I've owned since that sweet little Honda -- a `94 Saturn station wagon, my 2001 Prius and a 2004 Mercedes Benz -- all had alarm systems. Nevertheless, some creep broke into my Prius and stole the TomTom GPS on the same rare night I left the car unlocked and unarmed.

In April of 1992, while at work, my bungalow apartment was burgled by a duo of creeps who wanted my stuff. As is usual for B and E, the windows were the entry-point of choice. One member of the duo hoisted himself (assuming it was a he-type) through the unscreened kitchen window, easily pushed open from the outside, and into my apartment where upon he passed the microwave, sewing machine, 19 inch TV, answering machine, VHS player and two gold bracelets from my grandmother, to the other thief waiting outside the other kitchen window easily opened by the first thief. I had no renter's insurance in those days so it was a total financial loss for me. The hardest part though was everything stolen had been given to me by someone I loved and who loved me. I slept at a friend's for a week before I felt safe enough to sleep in the apartment again. The landlord replaced the window screens, I got renter's insurance and I installed a battery-operated motion detector. The motion detector didn't do more than make an obnoxiously loud noise when activated, but it was all I could afford at the time and gave me a sense of security.

The motion detector became more of a nuisance to the neighbors than a deterrent. In the summer, when the bungalow gets beastly hot, I leave the side windows open during the day. The alarm would blast if one of the drapes even slightly billowed from an occasional passing breeze. No one called the police when it tripped. I just found post-it notes on my back door informing me that the alarm blasted for 30 minutes. Sometime in the sumer of 2000 I just stopped using the motion detector.

In the aftermath of my property loss, two of the four other apartments were also burgled. In 2005 the landlord, who lives in the "Big House" on the property, bought a dog. While the terms of my lease won't permit a pet, two other newer tenants now also have dogs. There are six dogs living in three of the 5 apartments. One tenant has two chihuahuas and a Jack Russell, another tenant has a chihuahua-terrier mix and the landlord now has two dogs, a Vizsla and a German Shepherd. Personally, I couldn't be happier to be surrounded by dogs. They're balanced, well-trained dogs cared for by responsible, considerate owners. Amazingly, the dogs only bark when someone's at their respective doors.

Yet, 3 weeks ago one of the dog-owning tenants had a near home invasion. The tenant was taking a shower. Meanwhile, the intruder-creep began to pull himself through the relatively small bathroom window from the outside. As he was nearly half-way through the window, the tenant (a petite young woman) stepped out of the shower and startled the would-be invader enough for him to lose his balance and he quickly withdrew from the window into the night. Her dog only barked when she blurted out some kind of exclamation upon seeing the guy balanced on his arms in the window. The most unnerving detail of this story is that the invader chose to break into an apartment where it was obvious someone was at home and in the shower. It was 9 PM and her apartment had a light on in every room. The attached apartment was dark as was the "Big House" and the "Little House" at the front of property. However, the bathroom windows face the back of the property where there's no light at night. None of these buildings have any insulation and it's easy to hear a TV or running shower, especially when standing right outside the window. There was only one dim light lit in my apartment, although I was home, on the phone with my cousin. My apartment was probably less attractive because it's easier to see someone climb in a window from the courtyard or the alley and my bathroom window has a nice bright light hanging right above it. This guy selected the most attractive target for his purposes. That's why the police categorized this event as an attempted home invasion not attempted robbery or attempted B & E.

The next day, while on the phone with my Dad, I was humorously relating about the illusion of security we all felt with six dogs and yet, an uninvited visitor had nearly made it through my neighbor's bathroom window while she was in the shower. I joked that I'd decided to buy a few "beware of the rottweiler " signs for my windows as deterrent. As soon as I finished relating the story I was sorry I did. Dad's response was, "I'm calling ADT today and getting it installed for you." I felt bad. I shouldn't have told him. Dad's never expressed worry about my safety before -- except when I first learned to fly (but that's another blog) -- so I felt a bit embarrassed by his reaction. After all, it wasn't my apartment -- it was the young woman across the courtyard. Regardless, I couldn't put that squirt of toothpaste back in its tube no matter how I tried to backtrack and downplay the whole thing. The truth is, if a similar incident had happened to my daughter, I'd have done the same thing as my Dad. I'm not overly concerned about my safety although, I have no idea if six break-ins over 18 years on a single property is average, excessive or lucky in this city. I feel safe when I'm out and about although I am careful to take precautions. I scan my surroundings, have my keys out when I approach my car or home, I lock my car while I fuel it and I never park next to a van or SUV if it's dark or will be dark when I return to it.

Yesterday the ADT installer came and now, I'm all ADT-ed up. My doors beep every time they open and there's an extra glowing light amid the panorama of LEDs that litter my computer-laden space. I feel like a princess in her castle or a celebrity living in a gated community or a trustee in a minimum security facility. I need to get used to "signing in and out" with the security system. I left the house for a few hours today and forgot to set the alarm. If, when it's set, there's a break-in I will be called -- like on the TV ads -- then the police will be called if I don't answer or if I report a break-in. I feel kind of embarrassed that mine is the only apartment on the property with ADT signs out front and on the windows but I'm also very lucky. Thank you, Dad! I'm fortunate to have such a generous father who obviously worries about my safety more than I realized. I wish my neighbor's father had done for her what mine has done for me but she probably was considerate enough not to tell him what happened.

So am I really safe and secure? Is my stuff safe and secure from ne'er-do-wells of the world or the immediate vicinity? Am I in an illusion of safety? What do I lose in the bargain for security? In my observation, criminals build these security systems -- indirectly -- because everyone else is busy with the demands of day-to-day life. I appreciate the options for security but I resent having to live in a bubble of security because a relatively few criminals and dangerous thugs use their brains and energy to devise ways to circumvent the law. I particularly resent that airline passengers are wanded, x-rayed, patted, unzipped, unpacked, searched, de-shoed and have to arrive two hours early every time they fly because a relatively few but exceptionally deadly criminals shattered the illusion that we all want to arrive at our destinations alive. I have a metal hip joint so I always set off alarms and get pulled aside by the TSA agents for an extra dose of touchy-feely wanding when I fly. I'm reminded, as I stand, arms-out like a criminal on a cross with some TSA agent slowly concentrating her ultra-mega sensitive metal detector over my body outline, that even with each new precaution or procedure, our security systems will not guarantee safety. It's like a Mobius strip. The rules, the actions, the efforts create the illusion of being more secure and some sense of security is born of that illusion.

I Should Not Be Allowed Outside!

2009-09-12T14:23:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, I walked around Santa Monica -- about 4 miles worth along the streets of Santa Monica. That's impressive if you know Santa Monica is all of 8 square miles in size (4 miles by 2 miles). It was a stupendously gorgeous day. Blue sky with fluffy laugh-inducing,"Simpsons" inspired clouds in the west hovered above the Santa Monica Pier and along the sea shore. To the east, pyrocumulous clouds rose ominously, formed by murderous wildfires. I was yanked back into reality. I was dressed in black stretchy walk-don't-run capri-length tights, yellow L. A. Legger's cap and yellow L. A. Leggers running shirt. Basically, I looked like a veritable gargantuan bi-pedal bumble bee -- except for the fact that I'd pulled the shirt over my head so that it was backwards. The entire bumble bee population was shamed. I wish I could find a good excuse for the occasional dressing faux-pas but there's a big blue L. A. Leggers logo on the side of the shirt that's supposed to face in the same direction as my face. I realized I was 2 miles into my 4 mile walk so I hadn't bothered to even look down at my shirt until half way through the walk -- or I looked down and it didn't occur to me that the logo was missing. When I realized something was wrong, I stopped -- right in the middle of the sidewalk -- to figure out who stole the logo off my shirt. A second later I realized the logo hadn't been stolen, it had moved to my left shoulder blade.

I realized I had to make a choice. Either find a restroom in which I could make the appropriate clothing adjustments or just walk home as if I was oblivious to my backwards-facing shirt. I calculated that if I'd put the shirt on inside out AND backwards (which I've done before) I would take the time and make the effort to find a bathroom -- if I could find one closer than my own bungalow. I casually looked down at the shoulder seams, which would inform me of the level of stupid-dressing I'd done. "Ahhh" I thought, "I only pulled it on backwards. I'm only half-stupid." That, then, led me to conclude I could leave the shirt as it was and comfortably walk the last 2 miles in my "Scarlet-letter" backwards-facing attire. At an earlier time in my life I'd have been mortified by my clothing carelessness, but it's happened so many times now, it's more funny than humiliating. My mother would have been mortified.

I took a different route home and about a block into my return, I saw a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk between the post office and a bakery, wearing a pair of dingy briefs on his head, party-hat style, jauntily tilted to the left. I wondered if he was the "Ghost of Future Saturday Walk-Abouts" come to show me the evils of careless dressing? "No", I thought, "If this is a vision of my future, he'd be wearing pantyhose on his head, `cause I may not wear clothes the right way out but I don't wear dingy underwear. That I recall.

Putting things into proportion, I forgave myself for the episode of clown-dressing. I comforted myself (others may call it "justifying") even congratulated myself for only making a mistake with one piece of clothing. Counting all my clothing items, I had successfully adorned myself with 8 separate items. That's, a B+ . or 87.5%, right? Yes, I can do better, but if I were perfect, I would have so much less to laugh at in the world - `cause the stuff I do makes me laugh a lot. I could have done much worse -- and I have in the past.

One could argue that a woman with a solid 60 years of living experience behind her should be able to guarantee herself and the world that she'll step outside dressed like someone older than a two-year old. Apparently not. Facing the last two-mile walk home, I made the conscious choice to cherish the occasional two-year old who shows up to dress me too quickly and with total abandon, as only two-year olds can, and just proudly strut my backwards-facing shirt home. I looked like a dork but who cares? Only the folks behind me would know my secret and I couldn't see them. I giggled all the way home.

Big Red "Ruh-Rho"

2009-09-10T23:01:00.000-07:00

This is when you do NOT want to hear anyone say, "Have a nice day..."

Here's the story from LAFD News & Information email:

Water Main Causes an Engine to Sink Into Large Hole

Firefighters were in route to an unknown flood problem in the vicinity of West Hartsook St. in the Valley Village Community of North Hollywood. As the Crew arrived during the early morning hour, they encountered large amounts of water on the roadway.

With no asphalt visible, the Captain on the engine made a judgment call to begin backing out of the area. As they initiated backing procedures, two firefighters stepped out of the engine to stand as lookouts, while two additional firefighters remained aboard the rig. Suddenly, the front of engine began to sink into a large hole created by a water main that broke several yards away. The two firefighters escaped, one through a side window and one was able to ajar a door on the opposite side. The sink hole consumed most of the front of the apparatus, leaving a good portion of the back exposed. An intense recovery operation was initiated consisting of heavy rescue equipment, dozers, a good amount heavy duty Cables as well as personnel. It took firefighters and allied agencies all morning to devise a plan to retrieve the engine from the large sink hole. There where no other vehicles or individuals involved. Happily the firefighters escaped this incident without any Injury.

Shout Out to Wilson and Cantor: Your Mothers Didn't Teach You Manners!

2009-09-10T18:20:00.000-07:00

In another day and antebellum time, Representatives Joe Wilson (R-SC) and Eric Cantor (R-VA) would have been horse whipped by fellow members of the South Carolina or Virginia legislatures for their blatant lack of respect and good manners displayed in front of the world last night during President Obama's address to Congress. Granted it's 2009, not 1859, and good manners have fallen by the wayside for many in today's society, but they should not be abandoned by our elected members of Congress.

Wilson's outburst and Cantor's disinterested texting disrespected the President, Congress, their tax-payer-paid-for seats in Congress and all the people in their districts regardless of party. They also brought shame to their respective mothers, who, despite the title of my rant, I'm quite sure DID teach them good manners. Both are supposed to be gentlemen from the South, and as such, expected to set an example of educated civility, respect and refined dignity -- none of which was displayed by either by Cantor's juvenile texting or Wilson's grade-school, cowardly shout out. Is that the example you want to set or do you just revile THIS president because of his skin color? And if your mothers aren't ashamed of your behavior, as an American citizen, I am ashamed of you both -- particularly Joe Wilson for being the first member of Congress to heckle the President of the United States during an address to Congress. Congratulations pin head -- that's a legacy worthy of an ignorant petulant child. What WAS a lie was when you claimed afterwards that your utterance was "spontaneous." Who do you think you're kidding? The Republican strategy memo was leaked. It was planned like an ambush and it only made YOU look unworthy to be a member of Congress.

When addressing a formal letter to a member of the House, the correct greeting is, "The Honorable Representative...." That's the way we non-elected officials are expected to address a member of Congress. It's a token of respect for the office, not the man or woman. It's a way to respectfully acknowledge the voters that office represents. It's a unique way to recognize the significant law-making powers of the office. Wilson's outburst and Cantor's texting clearly signal to the world that both have:

zero respect for the office of President of the United States,
zero respect for the importance of the seat either of them fill and
zero respect for those who made the effort to vote them into office let alone the rest of the citizens in their respective districts.

Respect is not shown for the elected official or the political party. Respect is shown to the office and the importance of the work done for the American people. Last night they both demonstrated themselves to be hooligans unworthy of the office and unworthy of respect.

What they did was worse than the journalist who threw his shoes at Bush! Yah. Bush was the Republican's guy and the whole party got all "uppity" about that insult. The Dixie Chicks said what they thought about Bush and they got blacklisted by folks in the GOP. Only Republicans have the right to Freedom of Speech, right? Got it. Lord knows, if I had been an elected member of Congress during the Bush administration, I'd have had a damn hard time restraining myself from shouting, "You lie" during his speech about the reasons to invade Iraq -- and had I done that, I'd have been called a "Traitor!" Calling Bush a liar during his speech to Congress would have been inexcusable -- just as Cantor's texting and Wilson's outburst were.

To Joe and Eric -- I feel justified in addressing you so disrespectfully since you have dishonored your respective offices -- you both are a disgrace to your respective districts. The rest of the world, except those people in your districts, will think all residents of South Carolina and Virginia are the same ignorant, boorish street-thugs you demonstrated yourselves to be last night. As an American, I'm damned ashamed and angry with both of you. You lost any credibility and entitlement to respect last night. Wilson had to be "instructed" to apologize to the President by members of his party. Imagine that! He had to be told by his peers to apologize and the President accepted the insincere apology. Well, I haven't accepted his apology. Wilson and Cantor owe the people they represent an apology for how they shamed them, for how they shamed Congress and for how they shamed the United States.

It's About People Not Politics

2009-09-08T21:42:00.000-07:00

This is a short video from real people who need the kind of help with health care that only politicians have the power to fix. It's not about the politicians, it's about the people. Are the politicians listening to the people or looking at the polls and their campaign contributions?

For the Firefox Friends: nyahhhh

2009-09-08T21:33:00.001-07:00

(Thank you "I Can Has Cheeseburgers?" aka LOL Cats web site)
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Sunday Afternoon Radio

2009-09-06T19:46:00.000-07:00

Apparently I make a practice of driving somewhere on Sunday afternoons just when "Speaking of Faith" is broadcast on NPR. I was in my car today and the radio was tuned to NPR, as it always is (because I don't listen to music anymore when I drive). Once again I forgot about this program, how interesting it is and once again I was astonished at what I heard and how I found another area of self-discovery. Today's episode was originally broadcast in 2008. It was an interview with Seane Corn (about whom I know nothing), a highly regarded contemporary yoga teacher. During the interview Seane explained the real physical and/or mental health benefits of yoga. But here's what stopped my breath for a beat: She offers her yoga moves as a gift, as intention of energy that becomes an expression of an emotion (for example intention to heal, to forgive, to love). She often offers her yoga movement as healing energy to her father, who is dying of cancer. The idea sent me into waves of memory and recognition. I do yoga -- not at a studio and not everyday -- but I do it at home several days a week to keep my spine flexible and release tension. I do it with the expectation that the results will benefit my body -- and that's pretty much it. The idea of doing yoga as a conduit to transform fear, disappointment, helplessness into a source of energy that issues outward to benefit others is profound and powerful.

I remember the first time I took a yoga class. During one of the difficult (for me) poses, I began to weep. I didn't make a sound but tears began to roll from my eyes like a faucet not tightly closed. I didn't know why it was happening but it was as if something was trying to seep out of me like sweat. It was startling and I felt embarrassed until the teacher told me it almost always happens the first time someone does yoga. "Oh." I thought. "I must be doing it right." What I realized from listening to this less-than one hour was how healing yoga is. I suspect that no one listening to this episode will ever look at prostitutes the same way. I know. Non sequitur, right? It's not. I could write so much more but listen for yourself, generous reader, at the Speaking of Faith web site. There are videos of Seane demonstrating body prayer yoga, plus a longer version of the interview than was broadcast today, and other links to this work.

Those who are into yoga will undoubtedly know much more about this person than I. I found her philosophy and the work she's done introducing yoga to many disenfranchised people, particularly to "Children of the Night" in Los Angeles and to prostitutes in Thailand be inspirational.

California Fires - How You Can Help the Animal Victims

2009-09-04T23:29:00.000-07:00

I just got this and want to pass it along as quickly as possible. If you're interested in helping care for animals in the aftermath of the Southern California wildfires there's a web site just for you: IDAUSA.org. To quote from the web site: "To discuss how you can help please contact Jessica at 415-448-0048 or email her at DisasterRelief@idausa.org"

Sickening, Isn't It?

2009-09-04T21:56:00.000-07:00

Friday, August 29, 2009, I saw a documentary except based on a book titled "Money-Driven Medicine" on PBS's "Bill Moyers Journal". What's unique about the information is its point of view. Most of those interviewed were physicians who spoke about the intrusive, ineffective, harmful damage caused by the for-profit health insurance industry on the relationship between doctor and patient and health care. They also talked about the unholy alliance between health insurance companies and the pharmaceutical industries. The documentary will soon be available as a download from Amazon digital. The web site for Money-Driven Medicine suggests in-home screenings of this documentary be shared so groups of people can discuss the information. We've heard from elected politicians, health insurance lobbyists and the easily frightened. This documentary lets us hear what practicing physicians have to say, one of whom had a crushing experience of his own when his very young daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. You cannot imagine what happened. To say the least, I was shocked by what the physicians had to say. I thought they'd be universally against Medicare or any form of public option or single-payer health care.

For those who think the public option isn't necessary and all that's needed is a few tweaks and regulations to the health insurance offered by for-profit corporations, consider this: the so-called health insurance industry has had more than 15 years to fix their rotting policies and practices ever since the failure of the Clinton administration to pass single payer insurance. Have your premiums gone down? Has your coverage increased for the premium you pay? Has your co-pay gone down? Have you been able to switch health insurers without penalty for a pre-existing condition? Is your health insurance portable (you keep your insurance if you move to a different state or change your employment)? If your answer is a resounding "Yes!" then I know something about you. You have Medicare or maybe health insurance through the V.A. (veteran's Administration). Of course you have to be 65 to qualify for Medicare and a military veteran to qualify for V.A. health care benefits -- so many Americans don't qualify. The rest of the insured know that all the standard expectations of "free market" and competition have not shown up in health insurance premiums, services, benefits or co-pays. Based on history, the health insurance industry has not and will not do ANY thing not required by law except take your money -- and if they are required by law, have historically spent millions of dollars a day lobbying to block or reverse the regulations. The health insurance industry is no more willing to regulate themselves than the banks. They are corporations so they cannot be driven by efficient delivery of health care, they must be driven by profits. I'm not being cynical -- it is the number one priority for any publicly traded corporation. How in the world could our Congress entrust something as important as the health care of their constituents to administrative entities driven by profit? Oh yeah. I remember With the exception of Senator Ted Kennedy, campaign contributions trump public advocacy any day.

Given how much almost all Republicans like to badmouth Medicare -- to the extent that some Republicans (CongresswomanMichele Bachmann, Sen. Judson Hill, Sen. Chip Rogers) recently claimed that Medicare is "unconstitutional" under the 10th Amendment -- I wondered recently, what would happen if the Republicans successfully managed to eliminate Medicare? Now, I don't think this is a good idea and I'm not trained in this kind of risk assessment so anything I project is only based on watching my relatives reach the age of 65. The first thing that would surly happen is to leave millions of good folks 65 and older without health insurance. Hope they have rich family members who can pay for health insurance from the "free market" sector because between pre-existing conditions and life-saving prescription drugs, the newly uninsured will not be able to afford the $1200 or more per month per person they will be charged for health insurance, medications and co-pays (and that's based on an an extremely healthy 65 year old with no pre-existing condition). Oh, and I hope those relatives can provide a place for their "un-Medicared" relatives to live because there won't be enough money left in their Social Security check to pay for even a tiny place to live, utilities, food and all the medical expenses their new for-profit health insurance will not cover. There goes the Social Security check! In the first 6 months after the huge number of formerly independent seniors who become dependent on the love and largess of their children, siblings or friends, many of the older elders will be dropped from health insurance altogether. `Cuz that's what health insurance companies do to protect profits. Then, to paraphrase former President George W. Bush on health care, "There's the emergency room."

For the untold remaining millions who don't have a family or social network to fall back on after the repeal of Medicare, there will be homelessness and living on the streets to look forward to in their sunset years. What's to fear? This is the way the aged elders in many cultures are treated. Some cultures deposit them on an ice floe and shove them off to sea with a one way ticket. Some nomadic cultures sneak away in the night and abandon their sleeping elders as the younger tribe members move on to the next location. We can all devolve back to a Neanderthal existence. Lovely! It's all very dramatic. That won't tarnish America's "Shining Light" beacon image we like to think we have in the world. Except, there's serious money to be made in providing health care for the aging members of our society. The other thing I suspect will happen is a serious fight by the pharmaceutical companies, health care providers and ancillary insurance companies to prevent Medicare's demise. In the cold light of day, Medicare helps pay the salaries of a lot of physical therapists, doctors, nurses, receptionists, hospice workers, pharmacists and drug company employees, let alone all the other ancillary assistance products like canes, walkers, artificial knees, Titanium hips, incontinence pads and procedures like cataract removal surgery that's required to assure the best health care is provided to our dearly beloved parents, grandparents and great-grandparents.

Frankly, I don't see what's so hard to figure out. Open up Medicare to anyone who can pay the premiums. Those who want to sign up can, the rest can keep paying for the free-market plans. Oh, the "free market" health insurance providers won't be able to compete? Too bad. They've had since Nixon's administration to figure out how to offer affordable health care. My heart bleeds big flat bed trucks worth of my life savings for you, you blood sucking leeches.

More About Free Kibble

2009-09-04T11:08:00.000-07:00

I gave a brief mention in an earlier blog about the wonderful website: FreeKibble.com where one can answer a daily trivia question about dogs and/or cats, and regardless whether you select the right answer, a homeless dog and/or cat gets some food. It's brilliant and it's a way to do an unconditional daily good deed. Well! This fabulous effort has generated over 1.5 million meals to homeless dogs and cats in shelters desperately in need around the U.S. Isn't that wondrously fantastic? But wait, there's more! You can follow FreeKibble on Twitter and Halo pet food (co-owned by Ellen Degeneres) will donate a meal to FreeKibble to feed shelter dogs and cats and an additional meal for each follower of Halo on Twitter. The full story is on their blog.

They are irreplaceable.

2009-08-31T20:36:00.000-07:00

Firefighters have always been heroes in my eyes. I don't have any friends who are firefighters but I've met a few and they have uniformly impressed me and not because of their well-pressed uniforms. The few I've met have been disciplined, fit, funny, professional and interesting. Every year California has wild fires and the lives of firefighters are lost while almost no human life is lost. Firefighters are called to gear up and run into a dragon's mouth of fire the size of some of this country's most modest-sized states. They may be scared or not -- I don't know -- but they don't hesitate. They go when called. I'm not sure my parents would run into a burning house to save me but I know a firefighter would and perhaps die in the effort. This is a small part of why I love and admire firefighters.

Of all the tax dollars I pay, what is spent to equip, protect, fund and otherwise support firefighters is worth EVERY single penny (I don't mean to omit peace officers but this blog isn't about them today). The return on the tax dollar is excellent value especially given that this state's government will not resolve the perpetual wildfire hazard that afflicts California.

I extend my deepest condolences to the families of Fire Capt. Ted Hall and Specialist Arnaldo Quinones, firefighters who lost their lives on their way to a raging conflagration. Bless the firefighters, and bless their families who bare the deepest brunt of the loss. It is so hard to lose these irreplaceable angels of the community.

Gosh, If Only We Been Warned!

2009-08-31T19:42:00.000-07:00

In reverse homage to Paul Harvey's "The Rest of the Story", this is a prologue to the declaration "Nobody could have predicted this!" from certain members of the Bush administration as the banks began to collapse in the Fall of 2008. In October 1994, Sen. Byron Dorgan (D) NDakota, wrote an article titled, "Very Risky Business - derivatives" in which he warned about the risky business of derivatives. He warned that deregulating the bank industry would create a disaster. If only we had a warning! A glimmer! A hint! All that pain and suffering, all those lost jobs and foreclosed homes could have been avoided.

Perhaps that article went into the same circular file as the Presidential Daily Briefing memo titled "Osama bin Laden Determined To Attack Inside the U.S."originally given to Rice, Bush and Cheney on August 6, 2001. Gosh, if only someone with enough authority in the Bush administration had been warned, the FAA and various local policing organizations could have been put on high alert (like they were on December 31, 1999) for suspicious passengers or behavior. Or maybe, the CIA, FBI and NSA could have been put on high alert for 90 to 120 days in an emergency coordination effort between the agencies regarding any intel about Bin Laden or his followers. But no. The memo -- as with any PDR -- didn't give an exact date or exact plan or exact place so it was dismissed and ignored. Besides, there was all that brush to clear in Crawford, Texas.

Everybody's Got One...

2009-08-31T19:09:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not referring to opinions. Everybody has a story about health insurance and many are horror stories. Thanks to heartless, greedy, corporate "health care" shills like Betsy McCaughey I've been getting a lot of emails from organizations asking for my "health insurance horror story".

I have insurance and I have a story (maybe not "horror" but horrible) to share. All my life I've been active and led a healthy life. I'm vegan, a non-smoker, no drugs, couple glasses of red wine/week, have low blood pressure, low cholesterol, healthy weight -- in short, no health issues. I'm a good risk and I've rarely even used my insurance. However, 3 years ago, at age 57 and 10 years of training for then walking full marathons, I finally had to have total hip replacement surgery because a congenital pelvis malformation prematurely destroyed the right hip socket and I could barely walk, let alone sleep through the night, because of pain. I was elated and relieved when my insurance provider approved the surgery. The insurer told me the $1500 deductible was met for the year and all but about $2000 (which I would pay) of the medical costs would be covered. The debilitating pain of 4 preceding years was finally going to end.

However, the provider actually paid less than half of the total costs despite what what I was told. After surgery they found reasons to refuse coverage for anything other than the actual 1 hour surgery: no doctors fees, no nurses fees, no post surgery toxicology, no blood work, no medication, no anesthetic, no x-rays, no follow-up visits, no administrative costs. I was left with over $50,000 in unpaid medical bills spread out between about 20 different entities. I used all of my $15,000 savings to help pay off the bills then started paying with my 2 credit cards. Then the APR on the cards skyrocketed as the banks who issued the cards were bought and sold. One card went from 14% to 30% the other went from 15% to 28% and soon I couldn't pay the minimum amounts even though I didn't add anything else on the cards. The credit card companies would not work with me to reduce the monthly payments. One card payment was 2 days late, the account closed and sent to collections. Less than a year after surgery my health insurance increased 30%, my work hours cut from full time to part-time and new unpaid medical bills related to the surgery were still arriving. I appealed the provider's decisions to no avail. All these related service were done by out-sourced entities who were not signatories of PacificCare (my so-called insurer). The 2nd card was closed and sent to collections when I missed one payment. My credit since the surgery has gone from 750 to "deadbeat" even though I've never missed or been late with my rent, utilities, insurance or car payment.

When I turned 60 this past March, my health insurance increased another 40%. The premium is now equal to 40% of my income. For the past year I've been looking for a new job or at least another part time job but the two credit card collections on my credit history has kept interested employers from hiring me. I've tried for the past 3 months to find a less expensive provider of individual insurance but either I'm declined because of the hip surgery or the premiums are equally expensive with much higher deductibles and far fewer benefits. I may be able to afford "catastrophic" coverage but I'm still waiting to hear. In the meantime haven't used my insurance since 2007 for fear it'll be cancelled before I can find something affordable. There was a time when hospitals and health insurers were administered as "non profit" entities. That's the last time I recall health insurance being affordable and dependable. As soon as our collective health was made available to the "for profit" buzzards, we have all become its road kill. My mother died from ovarian cancer at age 57 because she had no health insurance and waited until she could no longer stand the pain to see a doctor. By then it was stage IV ovarian cancer and she was doomed. After her death in 1985, my father was left with nearly $100,000 in crushing medical bills. Imagine losing your wife of 35 years then being left to face financial ruin.

Mine isn't a rare or the worst insurance story out there. There are many far more life-denying stories from good folks who've had the bad luck to be laid off, or had their health insurance cancelled just when it's needed the most -- so I'm lucky. This sort of thing happens over and over every day in the world's richest country -- or are we?

Health insurance has become "wealth insurance" for the insurance company CEOs and their investors. There should be a bold red warning on all health insurance policies: "This insurance is provided by a 'for profit' corporation and may be hazardous to your health! Use at your own risk."

Human Scrubbee Bubbles!

2009-08-26T22:30:00.000-07:00

I just signed up to be a human srub bubble for the beach on Saturday, September 19, 2009. I live one mile from the beach and every year since the inception of this event I've wanted to participate in this activity -- since I do love the ocean -- but always managed to be scheduled for something else that I couldn't flake out on. This is my year to be a Beach Bunny Scrubbie Bubble. It'll be fun to meet new people and join in the effort to pick up trash. Here's more information:

Coastal Clean Up Day

9/19/2009 9:00 AM

Coastal Cleanup Day (CCD) began in 1985 and has grown into a huge annual event. Every state with a coastline participates, including the Great Lakes states, and even some inland states clean river and lake shores. The one-day cleanup is international?at last count, over 60 nations participated?and may be the largest volunteer day on the planet.

Join REI in supporting Coastal Clean Up Day at 1600 Ocean Front Walk in Santa Monica, just north of the Pier or visit www.healthebay.org to learn about other locations.

Location:1600 Ocean Front Walk, just north of the pier
Contact:Jennifer at jday@rei.com or 310.458.4370
Cost:Free
Registration Required? No.
http://www.healthebay.org