Catching up

It's an insanely beautiful day. The light is a little different here,  just like Cape Cod has a silver quality to it, here it's something about the blue of the sky and an interplay of light and shadows. Its the kind of light that gives great depth perception.  The temperature is cool, daddy, cool in the mid sixties. It's a perfect beach day and my mind starts to wandering wondering. But stop. The catching up needs to happen.

Back when Murder at the Co-opt was being written and performed, I had started to name my three favorite blogs of less than 300 followers. Rory gave it  to Austanspace, who gave it to me.  Yes, I'm talking about the
award. I've found references to it seem to start this past February. No obligation to pass it on, no need to write about 3 others, it's jes' us talking to us.

Both Austanspace and Rory have great blogs. I highly recommend both of them. Rory has two blogs. His main one is The Scottish Scribbler which currently has a wonderful story about Rory and his sassy daughter, and one about bad art album covers. I've been saving such things for quite awhile now, and immediately thought, "I've got to send or post the cover of The Faith Tones' "Use Me Lord". But then I saw that he had it in the "ultimate" spot. I have to admit that this did not "sit" well. I had to examine my feelings. And I saw it as a challenge. You know what I mean.  About a step before the "of course you realize this means war" stage. It has occurred to me that this attitude might be a bit too aggressive . But still the hunger lurks. Peons. I still have the insert for Sgt. Pepper's, dammit.  And I still have one of the fuzzy red flocked in gold letters "Odessa" albums too! So there!

I love album art. Even the bad ones. Intended without pain or injury, no challenges (unless you want to pick up the gauntlet) here's a few of my "bad" (a relative term which implies a prejudged oh never mind) favorites, In no real order, my contribution to the field.

So how's that! And I'll raise you an "All My Friends Are Dead".

to be continued...

It's still the same old story...

One of the blogs I visit from time to time has a name that I think is great : Joe.My.God.
The following was posted today.
Monday, August 22, 2011

IOWA: Student Dies After Gay Bashing
A 19 year-old college student was beaten to death in Michele Bachmann's hometown of Waterloo, Iowa this weekend. Witnesses say Marcellus Richard Andrew's attackers shouted anti-gay slurs while kicking him in the head.

The updated story

WATERLOO, Iowa --- A brutal fight that claimed the life of a Waterloo teen started with taunting, witnesses said. Police confirmed that 19-year-old Marcellus Richard Andrews was officially pronounced dead at about 3:30 p.m. Sunday. Relatives and acquaintances said he died after being removed from life support at an Iowa City hospital. "It's just not fair," said friend Nakita Wright. "I don't wish that to happen to my worst enemy."

Officers and paramedics said they found Andrews unconscious with severe head injuries in the early morning hours Friday.

Andrews, who was slated to start studying interior design at Hawkeye Community College, spent part of Thursday practicing with members of the Crusaders, a drill team sponsored by Union Missionary Baptist Church. He led the step team for the group, which was days away from competing in March Against Darkness.

Night found him at Nakita Wright's home on Cottage Street. She said the problems started at about 12:45 a.m. Friday when she and Tudia Simpson, her cousin, went for a walk down the street. Andrews opted to stay behind, waiting on the enclosed porch, she said. The two women hadn't made it as far as Adams Street a block away when they heard yelling back at the house. They ran back and found a truck stopped in the street, and the occupants were taunting Andrews, calling him "faggot" and "Mercedes," a feminization of his first name, Simpson said.
The arguing and name calling continued, said Simpson, who admitted throwing the first punch, striking a girl. "She kept saying it, and I hit her," Simpson said. From there, the fight was on, with Nakita Wright and the others joining in, according to their account.

At some point during the scuffle, Nakita Wright felt her leg brush against something on the ground. She looked down and saw Andrews. "I tried to help him up, and then this boy ran back and kicked him in his face," Nakita Wright said.

After the brawl ended, she tried helping Andrews to his feet. He appeared dazed. She grabbed one arm and coaxed him as she lifted. He pushed up with his other arm, but then gave up.
Nakita Wright dialed 911.

He was flown to University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics for treatment.
Word of his passing came as the Crusaders Drill Team took part in the March Against Darkness competition at Central Middle School, said Alexis Wright, a cousin of Nakita who works with the Crusaders.

In addition to being step team captain, Andrews had helped train team members, Alexis Wright said. "He would practice with the little ones, making sure they get it," she said.
Andrews had been scheduled to lead the team's Saturday night performance and deliver the opening salute.

Instead, when the event started, organizers had a moment of silence for Andrews, who at that time was understood to be on life support. Later, during an intermission, officials broke the news he wasn't going to pull through over the public address system, Alexis Wright said.
"All the children were affected by it. When they announced, they were literally on the floor crying," she said.

It was a tragic end to a busy weekend for the team, which started the with a parade in Parkersburg and another Saturday event before the March Against Darkness, Alexis Wright said.

Andrews had studied at La James College and took part in Job Corps. He had bought his Hawkeye college textbooks earlier in the week.

Authorities continue to investigate the assault. No arrests have been made in the case.
The police have made no arrests, despite the fact that the attackers knew Andrews' name.

  

A birthday of note

Today is Joe Strummer's birthday. He was the lead singer of The Clash, a politically aware punk rock group awhile back. Strummer was also the group's co-founder, lyricist and rhythm guitarist.  Today he would have been 59 years old.  Here's a pic and a quote:

”I will always believe in punk-rock, because it’s about creating something for yourself. Part of it was: ‘Stop being a sap! Lift your head up and see what is really going on in the political, social and religious situations, and try and see through all the smoke screens.” Joe Strummer, July 2002

Here's a song that really is not typical Joe Strummer, but then again it is.

 Turn up the volume before starting!

Happy Birthday, Joe.

    

Uh, Oh.

My God, is no one watching?
This show has gone from being comedy to being subversive.
This kind of thing can not be allowed to continue.
I'm not sure how long these clips stay available, so try them right now!

World of Class Warfare - Warren Buffett vs. Wealthy Conservatives

www.comedycentral.com

Comedy Central Funny TV Shows Roast of Charlie Sheen

The Daily Show - World of Class Warfare - The Poor's Free Ride Is Over
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

This just in...

This mornings news included this tidbit:

Bat causes stir at NH selectman's meeting
Aug 18, 9:12 AM (ET)

EPPING, N.H. (AP) - Maybe the bat just wanted to air its concerns to the board.
The Board of Selectmen in Epping, N.H., was discussing road signs this week when the meeting was interrupted for about two minutes by a bat that swooped and flitted over the panel, causing members to duck and chuckle.
The bat was eventually chased out the door.
Selectman James McGeough calls the wildlife encounter a comedy of errors, and jokingly suggested police shoot it.
Board Chairwoman Karen Falcone tells WMUR-TV ( ) the meeting became a "frenzy." Town officials have long known that bats live in the tower above town hall, but this was the first time one made an appearance at a meeting.

Emily's Restaurant

So, we've made a left, run through the arcade, and then there comes - a blank, really blank,  just nothing at all like an edited memory about a horcrux kind of blank. Oh, wait - I'm beginning to see one of the empty spaces - it's set back from the boardwalk a bit. It's the Flanders Hotel. I can't believe I forgot that place. I even worked there for awhile.

Built in the 1920's in the "Spanish Mission Revival style", The Flanders had a private beach, and its swimming pools were filled with salt water. It was a pretty swank place. In my day there, it was getting a lovely genteel patina of shabbiness. Except in the workers housing whose patina was more Tobacco Road.

There was this one guy, a dishwasher there who had something like 7 or 9 degrees. He just preferred to be left alone, and I guess he made a mindless zen ritual of washing dishes (a  mostly automated procedure). As winter arrived, he'd go wash dishes at a swank hotel in Ft. Lauderdale.

I worked in the kitchen and did a little bit of everything from cooking to dish and/or pot washer. Then I moved to the other side of the door and became a waiter. I subbed for the maitre de. I even played the piano one night.

The whole place had an almost old world charm. It was even rumored that the old ballroom was haunted, as well as the cellar catacombs. When it was built, it was so modern it was "fireproof". Sadly, this turned out to be true in 1927.



The place changed hands in 1996, and was renovated with an eye towards luxury condominiums. It now has luxury suites for rent - a single with ocean view is only $400.00 per night in high season. One of the ocean view penthouses will run you $950.00 per night. From what I gather there are portions of the place which were sold off, money came in from a new partner? and who owns what sounds complicated. In 2009, the building was added to the National Register of Historic Places. I'm afraid though, that it's too late already. Modern photos of their high price digs don't quite look right. It's all phony now, like the faux nouveau glass paneled door to a section of the new dining facilities named Emily's, their name for one of the ghosts whose name is actually Marilyn or Maryanne. What can I say?

It was a summer friend who worked at the Flanders who turned me on to Lenny Bruce. Gosh, all those years ago. But I remember. And I remember the slum conditions of the rooms for the workers. A different world from the one inhabited by hotel guests. And I remember the sad elegance of a once grand hotel, catering to an aging clientele who were out of their time as the world passed them by.  I was lucky to see it.

The first arcade on the left

There was only one block between Uncle Harry's and the Boardwalk. Just as you got up a ramp to the boardwalk was a side door to kid heaven. It was an old arcade. It was immediately apparent that little had changed since the late 1930's or early 1940's. Just inside the door were about 5 or 6 Skee Ball machines. The old ones. With the 10 foot ramp. I couldn't find an exact picture, but they looked something like this:

There were another series of them just to the right of the main entrance.  I hardly saw them. Just to the left was a Grandma machine, and I always headed right for it. Put in your coin and grandma would start moving. Her hand would drift over a line of cards. She would look from left to right until that magic moment when she selected a card and sent it down a chute to you. The card was printed with your fortune.

 

 At this arcade, they had the gypsy grandma. She looked more like this:

Just across from grandma was a row of kinetoscope machines (which used a celluloid loop) and the kind with flipping cards - I can't remember what they were called! Grrrr.

Just around the corner were a couple of fan photo type machines. You'd put in your coin and a card with a picture postcard of a movie star would emerge. I still have a couple.

Of course all that is gone now. The entertainment technology of a simpler age.

I've been having problems with blogger this evening. I know it's only Mercury Retrograde at work, but well, you know. Later.

The Last Two Weeks of August

It's getting cool at nights now. And today, as I write, it's rainy with a temperature in the mid 60s Fahrenheit. Summer is ending. In a week or so the kids here will be going back to school. They go back so early here.

When I was a kid, school always started the Wednesday after Labor Day. I noticed some years ago that summers end earlier in New England than where I grew up in New Jersey. Up in Maine, most people have cleared out by the week before Labor Day. In New Jersey, I can remember standing on Labor Day morning on a Boardwalk so busy that you couldn't walk more than a couple of feet without bumping into someone. By 1pm, most of those folks were gone. By 4pm you could throw stones with all your might and not hit anyone.

As a matter of fact, it would be right about this time of the month that we'd all head to Ocean City for the last two weeks of August. My grandmother's Uncle Harry had a house there. This was in the late 1950's. I can't find a picture of the place (except in 8mm), but this gives you a fairly good idea of the area.

 By the early 1960's he'd sold the house, starting us on a one week stay at various places like the Sindia Apartments. The Sindia was a famous wreck from the days of the China trade.

Good God, the size of that thing. The ruins below were gone by the time I came along.

But, the following was there as long as I can remember, including the years I lived there (I left in 1972). I've read that they are now underground - thanks to a beach replenishment project. Local lore had it that a solid gold statue of the Buddha was on board the ship and never recovered...

Ocean City has been in my mind for a few months now. It first started showing up in my dreams. I'd find myself in the "Gardens" (read: Italian ) section of town...   well, it got me to thinking about maybe going back. At least it's an upfront tourist town. It's built for people watching. I can see myself, happy, retired, very poor,  sitting on a bench and watching the passing parade. Many of the benches on the boardwalk have backs which swing so you can sit looking out to sea, or set it to watch the world go by you on the boardwalk.

I've no idea who this is, and I really don't care all that much. So feel free to go ahead and make up your own story about her. It's from 1937 and that lady is sitting on the kind of bench I mean.

Oh, before I forget: One year we rented rooms at the new Sting Ray Motel. It was very modern for Ocean City. And it certainly didn't fit in architecturally. But it was right by the Boardwalk. And it was a block long. And see that section on the left? It is directly across the street from Uncle Harry's.

Ocean City Memories will be continued...

Addendum...

So. I like playing solitaire. I've played the windows version a lot over the years. For Windows 7, a few changes have been made. Now, when you win, the cards fall quickly and, as they hit the bottom of that window, break into small flying bits, the sound of the glass tinkles like a charming version of a wind chime. Your score is based not only on your winning, but there is a time element as well. I used to play it so fast, always remembered what cards were where, etc. I'm much slower now. Today, I passed a couple of minutes playing , expecting a good score but not sure how quickly I did it. Before the game added in my time score, my main score was 666.

The ABC Evening News featured a story about bats. The northeast population is dealing with an outbreak of white nose powder or whatever its called. The population is being decimated. But other bats are replacing them. Vampire bats from Mexico are moving north. They're the type that needs blood to survive. They bite. Humans. How many signs are there? How many do we need?

I'm just saying is all.

               

Does no one have any sense of shame anymore?

Well, I'm pissed off again. Doesn't seem to take much these days. This morning's online edition of the Brattleboro Reformer noted that as of Monday, its' online edition will only be available by subscription. Well, sorta. They will let you read 5 free articles a month. At #6, you get blocked and get the subscription form. $5.99 a month, or $59.95 per year. It's not that the Reformer isn't worth it, and it isn't, what is pissing me off is charging  monies to access everyday information. Public information is becoming a sellable commodity. The NY Times recently deiced to go down that route. And that's the high price spread. I'm sure the local library will continue to purchase the papers and make them available.  If you can get to the library when it's open.  But after the next round of local budget cuts, I won't be surprised to note that funding for the library has been curtailed so they will start charging a fee to read the paper there. And then just to get in the door. This will take us back to the days when libraries were only available by private subscription. It was the free library system, and free equal access schooling, that helped make this country great. That access is what got us out of being an agrarian country dotted with mind numbing mills of the industrial age.  Of course, the thing is that the greedy bastards out there aren't all trying to meld us into worker slaves, which I'm sure they wouldn't mind, it's mostly that they just want to make still more money off of us. And by doing that, what if people aren't so well educated anymore? Let them go and increase and multiply.  Just don't make me pay for it. And when it gets to too many people draining the public coffers well....Coming soon: Life in the resettlement camps. Don't 'cha just love the sound of marching feet?  And the smell of jack boots in the morning....

The problem here is that people won't riot

So. There's something bothering me. Last night, a heck of a lot of people showed up for a vigil for that unfortunate man  who was shot and killed at the Co-op. Okay. That's cool. The Press was there. The  TV station up in Burlington was there. The Governor was there. See, the thing is this. A little over a week ago, there was another murder here. She was a young woman with problems. She knew many people here. The local (daily) paper takes great pains, every time she is mentioned, to note that she lived in Bellows Falls. As though that would explain it, as though they could wash their hands of it. As though it might absolve them. This woman was forced from an apartment in town (that's as explicit as it gets) at gunpoint. She was taken a little bit up the road and killed by her boyfriend, a drug dealer.  They'll bring her up to front page again when the co-op story dies down. They'll use it to incite conversations and endless discussions with the same forty or so people who usually turn up for these things. Oh, the situation in town. What do we do? Why (sob!)? Hugs are distraction, as the co-op or the town figures a way to make money off this. And in all this time, in all this time, where was her vigil? Where were the tv cameras? Where was the paper? The Governor didn't bother to show up, for her? Why is it that we aren't hearing much about abducting someone in daylight? At gunpoint? Two victims. Both shot dead. One is well off. The other wasn't. One held a prestigious position at the co-op, the right people, you know. The other includes the involvement of drugs. And bad people. The Town manager didn't write a eulogy-press release for her. And she didn't get the spotlights and all out production values. All she got was dead.

Another sign of the you know what times...

So, according to some article I surfed through this morning, on the first work day after downgrading US Bonds, Standard and Poor's 500 Index lost 6.66% of its value. (And they said not to mind that lake that's turning blood red.) I've tried confirming this figure, but I stopped as trying to wade through financial speak gives me the willies. At any rate, it's too good not to mention.

Speaking of the early 1960's, I do have to say that the music was great. Today would have been Bobby Hatfield's birthday. He was half of the Righteous Brothers. And, yes, I still have my 45's of "You Lost That Lovin' Feeling", and the following:




Oh, man does that take me back to a world of bumper cars and skee ball or what?  You could be Nehi to a grasshopper... Imagine,  a world where you could watch performers doing their stuff live. Ohhhhhhhh, Myyyyyyyeee looooovvvve, myyyyyyee darlllllling..... Please don't tell me to keep my day job. So, hats off to Hatfield and a Hi-de-ho to the leader of one of the great, classic, girl groups: wish  birthday happies to the original badgirl herself, Ronnie Spector. And remember. she deserves extra props for having married Phil.




Now about that Chevy Impala....

Why I'm not completely surprised

One thing I mentioned in a comment over on Austanspace that I have not duly recorded here yet...

The other day - yes, in daytime - I had another bat in my room. This one was black. At one point, it flew right to the back door (actually the entrance to the place) which I had opened so it could fly out. It started to fly out into the daylight, but it was like an invisible wall stopped it. It turned around and flew straight down the galley kitchen and into my room. It circled for a few laps before vanishing.

There is one thing bothering me. I had the first bat in my room, a white bat at that, just after the June solstice. And this one visited at the end of the usual lammas days (sounds like a sale event).

White and black.
Beginning and End.
Alpha and Omega.

I also remember commenting that something evil had passed by.

I haven't figured out what all this means, if anything.

I am, however, beginning to hear of other indoor bat visits. One showed up at my landlord's real estate offices in a daylight visit. Somebody on ibrattleboro took note of a brown bat...

As the rumors go round and 'round, oh o oh ho, ohoh... 

Remember that "flying bird" that caused an airplane flight to turn around - it was just an "odd" item in the news. Well, it turns out that it wasn't a bird, after all.  It was a bat. Good God, is this all promo for the new Batman movie?

What if....

This past Saturday my humble little blog was given an award by my very excellent good friend over at Austanspace. I was delighted, of course, and the only reason I'm not quoting her directly is that it might come off as too egotistical. Oh, what the hell, I need an ego boost. (And this honor came along at just the right time.)

Quote, "sdt goes all over the place, from the political to the metaphysical to the musicals. He's also an old friend of mine."

I haven't had time to respond to her or even thank her, or tell her how it brightened an otherwise horrible day. So this is an apology for not getting here sooner. And now comes the penance part.
The awarding includes the responsibility to praise three other bloggers with less than 300 followers.

---------------------- Breaking News-----------------

 

Murder at the Coop

someone has murdered someone else (possibly shot in the head) at the Brattleboro Food Coop. Both the Main and Flat Street entrances to the parking lot have been closed by the police.

This just in from the Brattleboro Reformer (selected quote)

The Coop will be closed for the rest of the day. However, construction on the new building will continue as scheduled.

-------------------

I need a break... cheerio and be back soon...

Wake Up! (You're next)

Neither Dow Jones nor London is having a good day.

Much was set in motion at the end of last Friday, after the stocks & bond markets had closed for the weekend, when Standard & Poor's downgraded the United States' rating from AAA to AA+. Which is still higher than the best rating of the two other stock & bond services..

Somewhere along the who gives a shit trail, a few little problems do show up. Why, for instance, would anyone take the word of an information seller whose product is based on guesswork? And who managed to base its findings on figures with a two trillion dollar mistake? Why, could this be the same company that gave AAA ratings on "Collateralized Debt Obligations" (mortgages)? One of the three agencies to approve of the filthy lucre standard of money collecting (what was that part about placing bets on who and how many would fail) which got them and us into this mess in the first place?  And who then gave A ratings to Lehman Brothers right up to its buried in toxic ass-ets that started the falling dominoes?

Their official findings noted several key points. We have big debt. We're Americans, we like things big, dammit. We got that debt by trying to fix the mess those fuckers created. Anyway, we all knew there was some trouble ahead. But three of their findings aren't even being discussed, and those deal with the political situation of the country. A country in which a small faction of the unapproved merger of religion and politics, extreme right fundamentalists, were willing to destroy the country in order to save it. And let us get real for a moment - if the US goes down the tubes, most every other nation will be pulled along. These people were willing to create global havoc to get their way.

Even the conspiracy theorists have been left with mouths open, gurgling their fears. Since these kinds of actions have set  old banker procedures and mores in place, many people knew in advance that this downgrade was going to happen. The question is who gets to profit from creating such instability? Every buddy buy gold now. Who's selling? That this event would produce a world wide psychosis is predictable. Who profits from the disarray? Or is it a smokescreen so we can't focus on something else?

Standard & Poor, by the by, is owned by McGraw Hill. My days in large bookstore management go back to the 1970's.  At the time, McGraw Hill was a textbook publisher which also operated retail student needs stores on college campuses.. They suddenly saw the light - and were reborn as a discount book chain. As this conversion started to happen, there were any number of rumors that McGraw Hill had benefited from a huge influx of money - from mob sources. And Lyle Stuart (who had a fondness for publishing books other's wouldn't touch) circulated a newsletter with this information, and noted odd shipments for other companies that had suddenly turned up or was last seen on the McGraw Hill loading docks. Fell off a truck, honest! Mr. Stuart soon stopped his "for bookstores only" notes. (The one I remember was two pages, folded, and stapled together.)

Stuart, a well respected gambler, published a book which, on its flypaper book covers, claimed to have a police memo which linked Los Vegas casino and hotel operator Steve Wynn to the Genovese Crime Family. The book's text went on to disprove and refute much of the memo's claims. But Wynn sued anyway. He won. Stuart was ordered to pay $3 million defamation dollars. The verdict was later overturned by the Nevada Supreme Court. Stuart, however, had been forced into bankruptcy, and his publishing business taken over in one big gulp by another communications company.

So who's trying to throw their feces at what little is left of the United States' good name? Stuff like this doesn't just happen, it is planned. So are the London riots of the have-naughts. And the freedom riots of the Middle East. And S&P's downgrade which was built on a house of cards already blown away.
Who profits from fear? And... who is it that is really doing the fighting? I mean, Rupert Murdoch was kind of pushed out at the first chance...  or was he?

fin