Yet Another Year End in the Hoosegow

It's December 31st.

I'm headed to prison.

I will communicate with you again when I am able.

My Year In Sports: 2014 Edition

It's not unusual but......

O what a year to be a Michigan and Georgia sports fan!

The Georgia Bulldogs were not quite as soul-crushing as the Michigan Wolverines, but they still came up short at crucial times.  They lost badly to Florida in a year that was not particularly good for the Gators, and overall were not a bad team - just not a great one.  but at least they're going to a bowl game.

The same cannot be said for the Michigan Wolverines, who could not even muster the six wins to qualify for a bowl game. Coach Brady Hoke came in making a very good impression, and no one can complain that he didn't bleed Michigan Maize and Blue, but his record was getting worse every year.  Now as the year ends, Jim Harbaugh appears to be finally ready to come back where he belongs.  Will that make the difference the Wolverines need?  I hope so.  I also hope that Harbaugh keeps in mind that these are young men, who technically are supposed to be STUDENT athletes.

The Atlanta Falcons had a horrible year, only kept in contention by being in one of the weakest divisions in NFL history. Still, Alison (the ultimate falcons fan) was devastated by the news the Mike Smith was fired as coach.  She feels he did his best, and that he is the least to blame for their demise.  What they really need is a healthy offensive front line, one that can give Matt Ryan more than half a millisecond to think.

The Detroit Lions had a better year, qualifying for the playoffs for the first time since 1993.  The new coach, Jim Caldwell, has been very good in marshaling the team, particularly the defense.  They have put in some extremely anemic offensive performances, which is mystifying given the talents of Stafford, Megatron, and Golden Tate (the most exciting receiver in football this year).  Their bad boy reputation still lingers, although they were not as heavily penalized as in prior years, mostly due to stunts pulled by Raiolo and Suh, stepping on ankles and legs.  The team gets little respect from the media, and no one anticipates they will beat the Dallas Cowboys in the wild card game.  They may be right, but you gotta hope for the best.

The Detroit Tigers put together a very good regular season, but were hampered by the lack of good closers, and quickly lost out in the first round of the playoffs.

At the end of the year, the Detroit Red Wings are very much in contention while the Pistons are very much not.

The guy who works with me at Higginson & Paulk, Dean, is from Alabama and is a huge Alabama fan.  He is spoiled by his team, as they are almost always in contention, and have actually won the prize several times.

I wonder what that feels like.

My favorite moments in sports?

Watching my son, Benjamin, participate in Pep Band at the middle school football games.  It was a joy and a blessing to watch him perform, and enjoy the company and comradeire of his peers.  I wasn't sure he was going to like band, but he has seen what the bonding of it can do now, and I am glad that he has that in his life.

Finally, just this last weekend, going up to a soaked rooftop tennis court with Doug and Benjamin, and hitting the ball around just a few times, as it splashed around in the puddles of water from a recent rain.  It was a treasure to see the boys playing together, and it was wonderful to get out there and take a few swings myself.  Am I good at tennis, with my zero stamina, and limited range, and a back that screams at the slightest turn? No, I am awful.  But I love it anyways.  And I loved being out with my boys, even it was very brief.

It's not whether you win or lose.  It's the joy of taking the field, of participating with others, of screaming with pride and joy, of being part of a team, however tangentially.

Of course, a championship every decade or so would be pretty swell too.

Taking Chamblee the Strait Way!

The Strait Boys (Doug, Benjamin, Greg) find the anime store, Pica Pica, at Sugarloaf Mills Mall.  This is one of the best kid-friendly malls I've ever been too.  Of course, two of these "kids" are in their thirties, but they are all still kids to me.

It was a great joy for Alison and me to spend the weekend in the Atlanta area with these three fine young gentleman.  Doug has a condo unit in Chamblee, a very nice loft-style place, and he is fitting comfortably in the community, even attending a city council meeting.

We had great pizza from Vintage Pizza, a local place just a couple of blocks from his residence, and a wonderful Greek meal at a Greek restaurant at Sugarloaf Mills.

There was mucho playing of games, including Apples to apples and Settlers of Cataan.  The boys loved the Settlers game.  I enjoyed watching them play, as I tried to participate, but mostly served as fodder for others and as comic relief.  Here, Benjamin is showing the new robot he built from Legos.  I am very grateful that they all have a natural ability at those things, because I have trouble even figuring out how to open the box.

All of us are huge movie fans, so we had to catch at least one movie together.  So what did we pick?  BIG EYES!  This Tim Burton movie bombed spectacularly at the box office, but it got our money!  And it was well worth it!  Yes, it was the most tame of all the Tim Burton movies, but it was an interesting story well told, with very good acting performances.  Alison and I loved the San Francisco scenes, and how they created a late fifties/early sixties feel to it.  I think many of my friends would enjoy this movie if they can find it and are willing to give it a chance.

All in all, it was another fantastic visit with my three sons!

History of the Trap: March Coup Part 5

5

"What were you thinking?" He paused and brushed his bright red hair back with a sweep of his hand.  Even though I was seated and he was standing, he was still barely taller than me.  Small as he was, the power and drive of his personality made him seem much larger.  "No, wait.  It's obvious you weren't thinking.  Why would you poke him that hard, especially when he's right there in the studio watching?"

"What are you talking about?" I sputtered.  I wasn't tied to the chair, but I felt like I might as well be, Davis Deen standing to one side of me, and Mickey Beacham (a rather large black kid, and close ally to David Izzner) on the other.  It was clear that I was to just sit and listen.

"I'm talking about your little stunt with that soap opera of yours," David Izzner said, pacing.  "I mean, it's all well and good when you're just telling a diverting story.  I understand that.  I mean, what do you think I try to do?  I provide diversions.  I provide things to help people feel better, to step away from the maddening reality of this...Trap.  But that wasn't enough for you, was it?  No, you had to make some sort of point, didn't you?  You had to advance your odd little theory about what happened to your girlfriend, Lisa, because you just can't let it alone, can you?"

He paused again, but I said nothing.  I didn't know what to say.  Yeah, I had the power of the pen to say something and I did, even if it was obscured and indirect.

"I mean, I get it.  Reddy Pulvey was your dig at Robert Pelley.  You think he killed Lisa.  I get it.  We all get it.  But you couldn't leave it at that, could you?  You had to go farther, didn't you?"

"Farther?" I asked.

"Yes!  You had to drag Dr. Ronald Scott into it, didn't you?"

"Sorry," I replied.  "I didn't know you were such a fan of Dr. Scott."

David Izzner laughed.  "Oh, trust me; I am definitely not one of his fans.  But I'm smart enough to have to deal in the real world.  And I know exactly what you were implying with the 'Dr. Scott as mastermind' plot line.  And whatever else he is, he's not stupid.  Don't think for one second he didn't understand what you were accusing him of."

"Fine!" I spit out.  "Let him think it!  Let him know at least one person doesn't think he's St. Athlete!"

David Izzner rushed towards me.  I thought he was going to smack me in the face.  Instead, his face was only an inch away from mine, and he said, "You idiot!  You think he's scared of you, or anything you do?  You have no idea what's about to come down!"

I felt a twinge of anxiety, but mostly I was angry.  "He helped cover up Robert Pelley's murder of the girl that I loved!  He had to have known that Pelley killed her!  And he still helped Pelley by lying to the court, and getting his buddies to do the same!"

David backed up a bit.  "But your little story implied more.  Your story implied that Dr. Scott actually directed the murders that occurred.  That Pulvey was just his 'hitman'."

"You're right.  I wanted him to know.  I wanted to shake him up. So what?" I said defiantly.

"So what?  So what?  Are you serious?  You have no idea what you did, do you?  You have no idea...," David continued getting close to me again, "...how close to the truth you got."

I cocked my face, puzzled.  "What?"

"You know, for what I do, I really like the status quo.  It's true.  Your father put limits on me.  But I think he understood my services, and the need for someone like me, and I was able to thrive in the parameters he gave me.  Sure, I had to forego some of the cigarette trade, but that supply was dwindling anyways.  You want your product to be rare enough that people seek you out, but not so rare that people are willing to kill for it.  I operate with stealth, with manipulation, with negotiation.  I want all sides to be winners, and if that stays true, I keep making my profit, for as long as we're here.  I gain for myself when I make things better for other people.  Violence should never be used first.  It should be used, at best, eleventh or twelfth, or not at all."

He backed away, pacing.  I felt like I was in World Humanities, getting a philosophy lecture, the philosophy of the black marketeer.

"So when forces come along, forces that believe in violence above all else, forces that upset the apple cart, that make the business environment and it's relationships uncertain, I get worried.  Very worried.  I mean really, Lance, what do you think happened in that trial?"

"Mark Granite and his buddies lied to prevent Robert Pelley being convicted, and my overly proper father did not challenge them.  He just rolled over for them, and helped set free the scum who killed Lisa," I grimly answered.

"Really?  Your father?  You blame your father?  I hope I never have a son as faithless as you.  Think again.  Who had control of that trail?  Who determined how aggressive the prosecution against Pelley would be?"

I thought for a second, and then slow recognition permeated through.  "Mr. Tate, the prosecutor."

David briefly rolled his eyes.  "No kidding, Sherlock.  Mr. Larry Tate, prosecutor extraordinaire."

"B-but why?  Mr. Tate is a strong disciplinarian.  He hates Robert Pelley, and all the juvenile delinquents like him."

"Ah, yes!  But you know what?  Jesus was right.  Love is stronger than hate.  And there's something that Mr. Tate loves more than his hatred for kids like Robert Pelley."

"Love?  What are you talking about?"

"The thing ol' Larry Tate loves?  Why, the Principal's office, Lance!  He wants to be Principal.  He's wanted that for years!  Ever since he was passed over by the School Board and your father was named instead of him."

My heart was racing faster.  That was true.  I remember my father talking to my mother when it first happened.  He was worried whether he should even take the job, that it wasn't good for him to jump ahead of Mr. Tate.  But the School Board wouldn't see it any other way, and he was finally persuaded to take the position.  People thought Mr. Tate would leave when he was passed over, but he stuck it out.  And apparently had been stewing about ever since.  "That may be true, but I don't understand how letting Robert Pelley off would help with that."

"It wouldn't.  Not in and of itself.  Robert Pelley is a terrible scumbag, not worth the time of day.  But Mark Granite?  That's a different prize altogether.  And if the price of Mark Granite's help is to let one scumbag go free, then Mr. Tate thought it might be worth it."

I shook my head.  "No.  I don't believe it."

"Think, you thick headed Martian!  What's happened since then?  The Student Council is now in the hands of Mark Granite and his Grani-Kinghts."  David chuckled coldly at that name. "Grani-Knights.  What a ridiculous name.  They have some real creative geniuses on their side, don't they?  And Mr. Tate has been moving as many of his supporters into place as possible as well, on the teacher and administrative side.  They create artificial disputes and slowly move towards a vote deposing your father.  And what do you do?  Bemoan how your father betrayed you in the trial, and take misguided potshots in your little soap opera."

"I - I didn't know," I said in despair.  "I didn't think..."

"No. No, you didn't.  And now we may all pay the price.  Mr. Tate thinks he'll be in control, but he won't be.  It'll be King Jock Mark Granite, and his brutal lackeys.  And you think what happened to Lisa is the only thing they've done?"  David came close and stared at me again.  "That's just the tip of the iceberg, Marty Martian.  You need to come back down to this planet before it's too late!"

"I- I have to get with Artie.  See what we can do to stop this!"

"Yes, Artie.  I've seen him operate.  Now that is a real leader.  You need to get out there with him, and your sister, and Lindsay and Jan, and Mr., Bruchow and Mr. Branch, and whoever else you can muster, and form a plan to combat this.  But anybody you confer with, you must let me know who they are, so I can give you the all clear as to what side they are really on.  Like don't include Mr. Charles Stein, the new Vice-Principal, because he's not on your side."

"Are you sure?  I thought he kind of liked my Dad."

"Good lord.  You've never met a sycophant?  A suck-up?  Trust me.  He harbors secret resentments, and he'll turn on your father when the time comes."

"How can I trust you?"

David Izzner gave a grim smile, scrunching some of the freckles on his pale face.  "You can't.  But you gotta start somewhere.  And at least I'm telling you to turn to your friends."

The door burst open, and another of David Izzner's crew came in.  It was Max Schickler, whom I barely knew.  He was a mathematical whiz, and ran the accounting side of David's operations.  He was of medium height, and had long stringy black hair.  A large nose highlighted an otherwise bland looking face.  "David!  It's starting!" Max said.

"Already?" David seemed startled.  "My sources said that wouldn't happen until next week!"

"They moved it up!  Soap Opera boy here spooked 'em!" said an irritated Max.

"Moved up what?" I asked.

David looked at me with contempt.  "The meeting to depose your father.  It's happening right now!"

I jumped up out of my seat.  "I have to go!  I have to do something!"

"Haven't you already done enough?" David sneered.  "Oh, just go.  Do whatever you want.  It's too late, though.  The damage has already been done."

I raced out.  I raced out to try to stop a train that was already crashing.

The Imminentable Arrisal of Christmas

As of this writing, it is the day before the eve of Christmas.  Although not officially started, the Christmas season is close enough that our decorations have begun!  Here is our Christmas tree, dutifully guarded by Coca Cola Santa.  Alison's grandfather, on her father's side, was a Coca Cola delivery man, so there is a great nostalgia in her family for Coca Cola collectibles.

Stuffed Dog World has been transformed into Patriotic Christmas Tree Stuffed Dog World Guarded by Star Santa.

Our china cabinet transformed into a Christmas Wonderland.  This is not as much trouble as it looks, as we really didn't have any china in there in the first place.  We're not really a china kind of family.

So Christmas is really very close.

Maybe I should start thinking about gifts and stuff.

Here We Go A-Wassailing and Other Monday Musings

Benjamin and Alison stand in front of the Christmas Tree in the Parish Hall. preparing to be part of the group that goes a-wassailing (Christmas Caroling brought right to someone's door).

Here we are at our first stop.  The lyric book being held up, that says Jingle Bells is mine.  That's because I can't remember the words to virtually any song.  I tend to make up words, and starting to sing "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells, Robin Laid an Egg" somehow didn't seem appropriate.

Benjamin belting out a tune at Baptist Village (a retirement center).  In addition to going to the homes of  our parishioners who are unable to come regularly to services, we went to retirement centers, visiting individual residences and singing at dining halls.

We than came back to the Parish Hall and ate Brunswick Stew prepared by the Pinckneys.  There was also a layout of desserts that was truly an embarrassment of riches.

For those among you who have been following my commentary on Christmas, it's true that Advent is not quite over,  But the last Sunday service of Advent had concluded, and no Christmas decoration or expression was done in the sanctuary - anything done was in the Parish Hall.  Decorations and Christmas Carols in the sanctuary won't occur until Christmas Eve.

At our own home, we have finally decorated the house.  We don't have much outside, but I'm not a big fan of outdoor displays.  We did get a burlap Frosty the Snowman that lights up.  He looks real good, but he had an accident, taking a dive to the ground and breaking up a bit (you try to keep a snowman together in South Georgia), but we think we can put him back together and have him back out tonight!

Usually by the second to last pro football game, Alison and I have written off our team's disappointing seasons, and hoping for better luck next year.  But this year we'll go into the last weekend with the Detroit Lions IN THE PLAYOFFS, and finishing first in their division if they beat Green Bay in Green Bay (miracles happen, but I'm not holding my breath).  And the 6-9 Falcons can earn the playoff by beating the Carolina Panthers next weekend.  Who woulda thunk it?

Yes, America, it is possible to oppose police brutality and support the police at the same time, and to condemn the monstrous behavior of the evil animal that killed two cops in cold blood. Using this incident as a platform to attack the President, Attorney General and others is offensive and way off anything decent on the political spectrum.  Morons and the insane get inspired by all sorts of things, like the two that left the Bundy Ranch and killed cops in Vegas.  We cannot mute political protests and discussions based on the insane actions of a few.  Nor should mega-corporations decide what movies we get to see based on the whims of a dictator.

History of the Trap: March Coup Part 4

4

The next morning I was in the cafetorium early, sitting by myself, scratching out some notes, trying to outline where The Sands of Loren would go next.  I had concluded an important plotline, embedding something important to me (whether others understood it or not), and now I needed to take it in a different direction.  I wasn't sure what that was going to be.  Maybe somebody would try to wrest control of the hospital from Andrea Goldman.  Maybe bring in a new love interest for Dr. Brenda.  Maybe have the hospital invaded by blue aliens.  I just didn't know yet.

As I was musing over these momentous decisions, Ginny Estill came by and sat next to me.  I had not seen or talked to her much without Artie by her side.   She was still beautiful to me, her Diane Keatonesque looks, and her imaginative, flighty personality just made her more attractive.  But I had long since reconciled that she was my best friend Artie's girl.  I would not interfere with that.  And falling as hard as I did for Lisa made me realize that I could move beyond my obsession with Ginny.

Even though Lisa was gone, the memory was still too strong for me to move on to anyone else, and if I did, it wouldn't be Ginny.  Whatever my attraction to Ginny was, her attachment to Artie was something I would not interfere with, under any conditions.  You set up these barriers, and you try to stay strong, and then the Trap just goes on and on, and you realize....well, that's for later, Doctor Duncan.

Ginny punched my arm playfully.  "How are you doing, Lance?  I haven't had much chance lately to talk to you one on one."

Yeah, in maybe like half a year.  "I'm okay, Ginny.  Like everybody else, just trying to find a way to cope with things each and every day."

Ginny looked at me, empathy dripping from her wide, expressive hazel green eyes.  "I know it's hard.  I miss her, too.  I miss so many of them.  So many from our group.  Tom, Sue, Jim, Lisa; it's just too much sometimes."

"It is a hard thing.  It's made even harder when your girlfriend's killer walks free," I answered, swallowing the pain, trying not to break into tears.

"You have to let that go, Lance.  At least stop blaming your father.  He did the best he could."

I looked at her coldly.  "Well, his best wasn't good enough, was it?"

Ginny was miffed.  "I am so sorry that you are so wrapped up in this that you can't see his side.  If you want to blame someone, why don't you blame Mr. Tate for not building a more solid case?  He was completely blindsided by the witnesses Mr. Branch presented, completely unprepared for what they were going to say."

I had enough.  "I don't know.  I don't want to talk about it."

"Don't you understand?  You have a father here, and he loves you.  You know how many of us don't?"

Many people had reminded me of that.  I knew it was true, but I got tired of hearing it.  But something in the way Ginny said it struck a nerve.  And I didn't know, in her case, if she was bemoaning the fact that her father wasn't here, or that he didn't love her.  My impression of her pharmacist father was not good, that he dipped into his own pharmacy supplies and was neglectful if not outright abusive.  "I know.  I'm sorry, Ginny.  I just can't think about that right now."

Ginny nodded her head that she understood.  We were quiet for a moment.

I broke the silence with a new topic.  "I see they have posted a list of the first couples applying for a marriage contract."

"Yes!  Did you see that Carol Dietrich was on the list?"  Carol was the first girl who let me date her more than once, and Ginny was aware of that (we used to talk to each other about all kinds of things).  My serious, romantic nature at the time led me to tell her on the third date that I loved her.  She laughed and told me she was no where near ready to be that committed to someone, and never dated me again.

"Yeah, I saw that.  She certainly changed her mind from when I dated her."

"Women do that sometimes," Ginny said, laughing.  "Bob Short and Pam Kordowski were on the list."

"Yeah, I think everybody saw that coming.  But you know what names were not on that list?"

Ginny looked excited, like I was going to tell her some really juicy gossip.  "No!  Who?"

"You and Artie."

Ginny laughed.  "What?  Are you kidding?  You didn't seriously expect me to be on that list, did you?"

"Well, you two seem to really like each other."

"Of course we do!  Artie is pretty cool.  I like spending time with him, for sure.  But marriage?  Ha!  I mean, I know we may be trapped here for the rest of our lives, I'm not naive, but I always felt like if I got married, and that is a big if, it would be well past when I got out of college, much less high school."

"Does Artie feel that way too?"

She paused for a minute, as if it was something she hadn't thought about before.  "I'm not sure.  He really hasn't said.  But it only matters if both of us agree to it, and I don't, so his opinion only matters when it matches mine."

"Okay.  If you say so."

She huffed up a bit.  "What do you mean, if I say so?"

"Well, you said it yourself. Women do that sometimes."

"Do what?"

"Change their minds, like Carol did," I said, smiling slyly.

"Well, not this woman!"

Somebody came up to us and stared at me.  It was Davis Deen, someone from our class who lived in my neighborhood but had little to do with me since being part of the boys who came over to my house to humiliate me at basketball.  He was taller than me, and had brown hair, slightly longer than normal, covering most of his neck.  Most of the time I had seen him he was sneering and snotty, but he just looked businesslike as he stared at me.  "Come with me," Davis said.  It was not a request.  It was a command.

Ginny didn't like that.  "What's your problem?  You can't just come up to somebody and just say that?  Who are you?  What do you want?"

Clearly, Ginny didn't recognize him.  But I did.  And I knew who he was an associate of.  It had been awhile, but I was not afraid to go see him.

"It's okay, Ginny," I reassured her.  "I'll go with you, Davis."

At least this time I didn't have a bag over my head.

History of the Trap: March Coup Part 3

3

The hallway of Huron General.  Dr. Marr and  Hospital owner Andrea Goldman are clutching each other at one end of the hallway.  Standing with them is Detective Linn Sharpton, with a gun pointed at Reddy Pulvey, the hospital janitor who is at the other end, with a knife to the throat of Nurse Rackett.

Detective Sharpton:  Put down the weapon, Reddy!  This can't end well for you.  The best thing for you to do is to let her go, and we can talk about this at police headquarters.          

Reddy Pulvey:  Stay away from me, Copper.  I know you got the goods on me, but I ain't coming quietly.  Back away or I gut her like the squealing pig she is. 

Nurse Rackett squeals.

Reddy Pulvey:  Shut up, you sniveling cow.  You treat me like dirt, and even though I'm nice to you, you don't give me the time of day.  This is what you deserve!

Enter Doctor Ronald Scott, Chief of Surgery.  He stands behind Detective Sharpton.

Dr. Scott:  What is going on here?  Reddy, have you lost your mind?

Reddy Pulvey:  No!  I've just found it!  I'm not covering for you anymore Dr. Scott!  It's over! 

Dr. Scott turns to Detective Sharpton, looking baffled.

Dr.  Scott:  You see?  The man is obviously insane!

Reddy Pulvey:  No, I'm not.  You're the one who told me to kill Judge McKenzie!  You didn't want Dr. Marr to know that you were her real brother and that it was you that set fire to their house and killed your parents!

Dr.  Marr:  What?  That can't be!  You're Frankie?  I thought you had died in that fire as well!

Nurse Rackett:  At one time, weren't you like his...girlfriend?  Yee-yuck!

Dr.  Scott:  I'm no such person!  I deny everything!

Reddy Pulvey:  Do you deny that you told me just yesterday to kill Andrea Goldman?  That you didn't like her rejecting your advances and the way she was looking into your expense account? 

A light went on in Andrea's head.

Andrea Goldman:  Oh, my stars!  That's who I overheard you on the phone with yesterday.  'Take care of it for me.  I'm tired of dealing with the no's and the meddling'!  And I had just figured out that you were having the hospital pay thousands to a Ready Medical Supplies!  (She points to Reddy)  That's him!  You were paying him to...murder!

Dr. Scott growled at Reddy Pulvey.

Dr. Scott:  You!  You worthless scum!  How dare you drag me into your criminal madness!

Reddy roared and threw Nurse Rackett to the ground. He charged down the hall towards Dr. Scott, flailing his knife.  Detective Sharpton shoots and Reddy crumples to the hall floor, just a few feet away from Dr. Scott.

Dr. Scott:  Thank goodness you shot him, Detective!  Who knows that madman would do next?

Detective Sharpton turns and points her gun at Dr. Scott.

Detective Sharpton:  You're under arrest!  As an accomplice to the murder of Judge Adam McKenzie, Duncan Rheinz, Amelia Proust and conspiracy to murder Andrea Goldman, I hereby order you to surrender.

Deputy Billy Dodge entered and handcuffed Dr. Scott.

Dr. Scott:  My lawyer will have your job, you pathetic excuse for a detective. 

Detective Sharpton:  I guess that would be from whatever lawyer you haven't had killed yet.

Dr. Brenda Marr gently grabbed Dr. Scott's arm as he passed by.

Dr. Marr:  Frankie, I promise you.  I'll do whatever I can for you.  If you're my brother, I owe you that.

Dr. Scott leaned over and whispered in her ear, before he could be pulled away.

Dr. Scott:  The fire should have got you too.

A pair of medics rushes to Reddy Pulvey to see if they can resuscitate him.  Dr Marr does not.  She is shocked by what Dr. Scott has whispered to her.

A wobbly Nurse Rackett joined Andrea and Dr. Marr.

Andrea:  So, really, he was your boyfriend for awhile?

Dr. Marr:  Briefly.  And, I'm telling you, we never got past first base.

Nurse Rackett:  Still....yee-yuck!

History of the Trap: March Coup Part 2

2

"Three!  Two!  One!  Open Camera One!"  Sammy Holland, our director in training, pointed at Phil Irman, who operated Camera One.  Phil's Camera light came on, and he focused on Ronald Housely, who gave his usual opening shtick, "Hey, everybody!  It's time for the Lookouts!  The Loren High Variety Hour of Power starring the incredible Bob Short, and featuring interviews with Council leaders Wilbur James and Loren's very own superstar track champion, Mark Granite!  Then we have some incredible live music performed by The Huron Mountain Boys Trio!  And we wrap up with a pivotal, not to be missed episode of The Sands of Loren!"  He paused for the applause track.  We didn't have the room for a live audience.  "And now, here comes.....the Bob!"

Switch to Camera Two, operated by Jason Wagner.  This was he camera that been operated by Randy Fitch, before he was crushed in the horrible tunnel collapse.  Jason, after months, was now almost as efficient as Randy was.

"Good to be back on the air, everyone!  It's been a long week as we have fine tuned and repaired our equipment"  Soon we would have to face that we were running out of the basic supplies, bulbs and such, to keep going, but we had not quite got there yet.  Bob Short smiled broadly at the camera.  He was back together close to his girlfriend, Pamela Kordowski, and everyone was betting they would be first in line to apply for a marriage license.  "We have a great show lined up.  Let's get right into it, shall we?"

Bob brought on Wilbur James and Mark Granite, and they began talking about the changes to the council, and the proposed changes as to how it governed.  Wilbur talked fairly eloquently about the changes, and how it would help the whole school operate better.  He talked so pretty, that when he was finished, I wanted to say to him, "James, you're crazy!", like he did to me after my campaign spiel.  But I was a better person than that.  Or just more cowardly.

Bob didn't seem to but all of it.  "Well, Wilbur, I'm grateful that students will be able to marry, at least to be able to apply for it, but I am unsure of this cutting back of Mr. Martin's authority."

Wilbur shook his head.  "Oh no, Bob!  You misunderstand!  This is simply to shore up his authority, give it the confirmation he needs.  It's all about checks and balances, you know.  You have to remember, there is no school board anymore, at least one we can access.   So it's just restoring some checks and balances, is all."

Wilbur turned to Mark Granite for confirmation.  Mark looked bored and just nodded his head a bit.  "Yeah.  What he said."

"I understand, yeah.  But I'm one who believes Mr. Martin has done an outstanding job of leading us.  Yes, there have been some disasters, but he has always been there to pull us through.  He has always encouraged the best in us.  I see him as more of a Captain of the ship, rather than a politician.  Somebody has to be in charge, particularly in an emergency.  And I can't think of a better person than Mr.  Martin."  A couple of crew members clapped at that, including Phil Irman and Franny Cranfield.   To my shame, I did not.  Mr. Resart quickly shushed them.  He did not approve of such expressions of opinion from his crew.

Mark looked a little disturbed at the way the conversation was going and I though he was going to offer a biting retort.  Instead he just changed the subject.  "You know, Bob, I am very excited to report that we are going to have a spectacular track and field meet in just a few weeks.  We'll have teams from the Graduates, Seniors, Juniors, Sophomores, and get this, even the faculty!"

All three laughed.  "Yeah, we may have to give that last group a break, let them start on the fifty yard line!" Bob chortled.

The conversation never did go back to Council politics.  When I saw Artie later, he was grateful for Bob's furtive defense, but though it would have been way better had they brought him or another pro-Martin Council member on.  I understood why he thought that way, but I don't think it would have made any difference.

The Huron Mountain Boys Trio came on next.  The name was a bit of a goof, as Huron is as flat as the rest of Eastern Michigan, and the group also contained one girl.  They were composed of a guitar, a bass, and a violinist.  The violinist was the girl, Maria Guevera, a talented girl of Hispanic descent.  They played together beautifully, with wonderful harmonies and rhythms.  The singing was pretty good too, led by Danny Hassan, whose mother was the choral teacher.  Their catchiest song, New Farmer's Rag, was an ode to the joys of having discovered the cows and goats, and a celebration of our more bountiful fresh food.

Then it was time for The Sands of Loren.  I had a more time than usual to prepare for it, and it was going to be a doozy.  Always dangerous to piss off the man with the pen.

In the Land of E Pluribus Unum, In God We Trust

Recently, the Pierce County Commissioners voted to prominently display the phrase "In God We Trust" in their meeting room.  Had I been a commissioner, I would have voted to approve it's display. Why not?  After all, it is the official motto of the United States of America, and has been since Congress adopted it way back in 1956.  This was at the height of the Red Scare, and we wanted to send a message to the great atheistic monoliths that surrounded us, including the Soviet Union and communist China, that we stood for something different.

What was our motto before 1956?  Well, we didn't have an "official motto", but the unofficial de facto  motto used most frequently was "E Pluribus Unum".  It is on the Great Seal of the United States, first used in 1782.  It was used even during the Revolutionary War as a motto and rallying cry.  It has appeared on various coins dating back to 1786.

What does it mean?  Ah, I know this one from my grand days playing the Wizard in The Wizard of Oz!  I tell Dorothy that we are returning to "the land of E Pluribus Unum."  It means "Out of many, one."  One meaning revolves around the colonies combining and acting as one nation.  But it also has come to mean the great dynamic of this country, of how we are formed by many groups and peoples, immigrating from all over the globe, to form one great nation, to form the most democratic and freest nation on Earth.  It is a testament to how our strength in unity emerges from the richness of our diversity, how our talents as individuals weave together to become a greater whole.

E Pluribus Unum, although never officially the motto of the Untied States, is one I hold close and dear, and is representative of the best hopes and dreams of this country.  It shows us what we have emerged from and have  formed into, it leads us together in present times, and it gives shape for our hopes and reams for the future.

Out of many, one.  A celebration of individuality and community, the promise of diversity leading to unity, the hope of moving together towards a brighter tomorrow - all in one simple phrase.

So, yeah,  Official or not, I would have voted for this as well.  In God we trust, and that trust leads me to love my neighbor and fellow man, to respect and cherish mankind's diversity, and to cherish the idea that our diversity, our combined strengths and the best parts of our nature, will lead us together to a land that holds true to God's promise.

In God, we trust in this great land of E Pluribus Unum.

Break Time is A Coming Through

I feel the power of a break coming through!  I work today and tomorrow, and then I have Thursday and Friday off.  That is a four day weekend.  Of course, there is a minor medical procedure to prepare for on Thursday and then go through on Friday, but nevertheless, four days off work!  Woohoo!

Than next week I only have two work days, and then I will be off Wednesday through Monday, including Christmas.  I also hope to get up to Atlanta and see both Greg  (who is flying in from LA) and Doug, my two older sons.  That is a whopping six day weekend!

Alison's last day before her break is this Wednesday, and then she will be off from December 18 through January 4, going back to work on Monday the 5th.  That is 18 days.

Benjamin's last day before break is today.  Yes, today.  His break starts tomorrow.  He got an extra day because of good grades.  They reward for those who like school and are doing well is an additional day out of school.  He goes back on to school on Wednesday, January 7th.  That's 21 days.  Three full weeks.  Benjamin will be on break for three entire weeks.

I thought my four days and six days were pretty awesome, but suddenly I feel a little dwarfed.  And mine are only that much because I'm 10% retired and don't work most Fridays outside of tax season, and I have gone up from twelve vacation days a year to fifteen.  There are some at my work who are taking much less time than I do this Christmas season.

Then there are some in other lines of work who are taking substantially less time.  There are first responders and others who will probably even be working Christmas Day.  I wish there was more balance and respect in our economy, but that isn't universally true.  Ah, France!  Where six weeks vacation a year is  what even entry level workers get!

Nevertheless, Benjamin....three weeks?  Really?

I am so jealous!

Getting the Boot and Other Monday Musings

The marvelous cast and crew of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.  The show is now over, but it had a great run, drawing large, enthusiastic crowds.  You can see that the cast was primarily young people, and I think it was an enjoyable learning experience for them.  They put in great performances and were well-behaved backstage (well, at least at a 95% level -they are kids, after all).

This was my last play performance until after tax season, and I will miss it.  Directing and then performing a small part was nice, but I am hungry for something a little more. The reality is, at my age, the number of parts that I am qualified for are becoming fewer and fewer,  But I still love to act.  It's one of those rare things about myself that I have a great deal of confidence in.
-------------------

Getting the boot refers to my horrible experience with the COMIC BOOK COLLECTING group on Facebook.  I got booted out because I posted a blog entry onto their group.  Now, this was not new, it was something I had been doing at rare intervals for about a year, rare because I don't post many blog entries about comics.  And that's all I would post to their site.  I was accused of self-promotion, and trying to make money, I guess.

Everything they said about me was wrong.  I have no advertising, and I have no means of making money from it (sad but true).  I'm not mining the group for followers - I have very few followers.  I'm not even quite sure what it means to be a follower.  I have 28 listed on my blog, but some of those are people who are on there more than once but with different icons, and I don't know what they do that anyone else reading does. And what comic book fan in their right mind would want to follow a blog that is 99% NOT about comics?  I have only half a dozen or so comic book posts out of over a thousand posts.

My only goal was to communicate ideas that take more than a few sentences, something they might enjoy. Something more than the "I liek comix" and "how dare they cast a black person as Human Torch" and "Is that comic I just bought new last week now worth lots of money?"  The article I wrote was one of my rare researched pieces and took several hours of preparation.

And as far as self-promotion, here's a shocker - Facebook IS self-promotion.  Everything you say and do on Facebook is about expressing who you are and your interests and ideas.

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Advent is soon drawing to a close, and Christmas season will begin.  We have started the slow roll out of Christmas decorations, but that has not included the tree yet.

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

The Detroit Lions had a close game, but the final outcome was in their favor.  With the Packer's unexpected loss, the Lions are in first place, and I'm actually beginning to think they have a shot at qualifying for the playoffs.  It's December and the Lions are in first place in their division.  Rare and exciting words!

The Atlanta Falcons, on the other hand, took a giant step towards elimination, as they lost to Pittsburgh.  What you can you do when Matt Ryan has about a millisecond as to think what to do, and the other quarterback has enough time to go out for coffee and eat brunch?

In football I like the running game, and a well protected quarterback,  The passing and circus catches are interesting, but my favorite receiver is Detroit's Golden Tate III.  He is a YAC (Yards After Catch) leader, and he is just as exciting after catching the ball as he is catching the ball as after.  Run, Golden Tater, run!

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

Oy.  The clock is slamming into me again.  I have just three work days this week, so I have that to look forward to.

Until next time,

T. M .Strait

History of the Trap: March Coup Part 1

Chapter Fourteen

March Coup

1

The consequences of my anger and resultant indifference to my Father were made apparent by events in March.  I am perhaps fantasizing when I think that anything I would have done would have made a difference.  But had I been more alert and caring, maybe I wouldn't feel as bad about it as I do now.

World Humanities with Mrs. Forsyth was an enjoyable class, even with all the distractions of where we were.  Some didn't feel it important that we discussed so much about a world that may not even exist anymore, but I enjoyed it.  We began by focusing on Greek culture, and their many contributions to society.  We read Antigone by Sophocles, studied Greek architecture and explored Athenian democracy.   Some math and geometry concepts were discussed, but my eyes glazed over in that part.  Then we moved on to Roman culture, and were just starting to discuss Julius Caesar and his brutal betrayal, as written by Shakespeare.  'Et tu, Brutus?' 

The first meeting of the Council was brutal.  My father was refusing to ratify the list of names for the student security staff, as even though Mr. Tate was asked to bring in a more balanced list, he had submitted it virtually unchanged from February.  He asked Mr. Bruchow to work with the new Vice-Principal, Mr. Charles Stein, in selecting an alternative list, and that he would hen blend the two lists together.  This did not go over well at all, but my father overruled a vote adopting the list Mr. Tate prepared, claiming that is was a decision that required his executive approval. 

How long he would have that authority was questionable, as the committee to look at rules and bylaw changes for the council wanted to chip at my Dad's veto authority by having an over-rule provision by a two-thirds vote by the Council, including students, faculty and administrative staff.  It would set up the students and faculty/staff as almost a bicameral legislature, with each having to have majority votes to ratify actions, and then my father could choose to approve or veto.  Artie, who was part of the committee, endorsed some of the ideas but not all of them.  It also had a mechanism to remove the Principal from power, kind of an impeachment process.  I didn't know what to think.  In the abstract, it all seemed democratic enough.

My father, though, angered some by not immediately bringing the new rules to a vote.  He said he would have to study them, and then give his input. 

The committee looking at marriages did get their proposal approved.  My father just added that the couple interested in getting married needed to have a minimum of three counseling sessions, with a guidance counselor, and that a small committee composed of an administrator, faculty and student representative review the marriage application and process and unanimously approve it.  With these modifications, this proposal was passed and authorized by my father.

The next meeting was scheduled in another week, at which time the student security staff would be finalized, and my father would give his recommendations on the bylaw changes. 

Artie was disturbed by the whole tone that seemed to be carried by many at the meeting.  There seemed to be subtle blame directed at my father for some of the mishaps that occurred, including the tunnel collapse, the rash of suicides that followed, the students that just disappeared, those that died in accidents, anything and everything they could think of.  No one blamed him for what I blamed him for; the fact that Lisa's murderer walked free.

Artie wanted to talk more about it, but I stopped listening.  Let my father deal with his own stuff.  It was none of my concern.

I was naive.

History of the Trap: February Myths Part 3

3

Lindsay Starn was right.  More or less.  She did want me to write something.

We met in the guidance office that was Mr. Joe Oliver's, up until the time he was murdered in that very office.  Now it was occupied by the new head guidance counselor, Mrs. Glenda Novik.  She was a tall, friendly woman, and looked a lot like Mary Tyler Moore.  Our guidance counselors had become more like psychological therapists than career counselors.  They had a tough job, and sometimes they lost the battle, as evident by our high rate of suicide, particularly back in August when so many were depressed after the tunnel collapse.  I sure wish they could have helped Sue Boschman more.

Mrs. Novik stayed in the office with us, as did Andrea's bodyguard, Gary Jackson.  I don't know if that was for her protection or mine.  Both stayed quiet while Andrea spoke.

It was the first time I had ever heard her voice.  It was excited, a little high pitched, and she spoke quite quickly.  I had to listen carefully to catch everything.

Her long, wild red hair, swooshed around as she animatedly talked.  She was thin, of medium height (probably just a couple inches shorter than myself), and had intense blue eyes. 

"I really love The Sands of Loren, Mr. Martin," she gushed.  "I really do.  It is so wonderful with all the marvelous characters and everything.  I really love Dr. Brenda Marr, she is so cool, better than any doctor I ever met and I just know she's not the killer.  I just know it!  She's not the killer, is she?"

I stated to open my mouth for a reply, but Andrea just rolled on.  "Oh, no!  Don't tell me!  I want to find out when everyone else does.  But I think it's that Nurse Rackett.  She acts like an airhead, but I'll bet you she's really evil.  Sometimes people surprise that way.  And I really miss Detective Haskins.  He's so beautiful and intelligent and just such a good match for Brenda and I just know they're going to get together someday.  I think you should do one where they honeymoon in Niagara Falls, that would be so pretty, and have it be on the Canadian side because that side is so much better.  I know that David Deneau, the guy who plays him, in real life has gone to the farm but it's a shame because he such a good actor, surely someone else could be a farmer.  Acting is so much better than farming, don't you think?"

And on and on and on she went.  I was unclear as to what was the point of it all.  Finally, I began to realize that she wanted me to add a character to the soap.  It was disguised, but she wanted me to add her. 

She talked about how great if an heiress could come in; maybe reveal her to be the hospital owner.  She could be a good character, but one who was powerful and would speak her mind, no matter what anyone else thought.  "And she could become best friends with Dr. Brenda Marr, and she could help her solve the murders now that Detective Haskins was gone."

I managed to get a question in.  "And what is it you think this new character should look like?"

Andrea exploded with enthusiasm.  "She should be really pretty, but not as beautiful as Dr. Marr, that would be too distracting.  She should be thin and not too tall, with a really long pretty hair, and with big intense expressive eyes, and be strong and soft at the same time."

Yeah, that wasn't subtle.  I think I was beginning to get what she was after.  "Do you want to try out for this part?"

Her eyes lit up like firecrackers.  "Why, I'm so flattered that you would think of me!  I mean, I would be so honored!  I haven't really acted before.  Well, except at home, in my own room, you know in front of the mirror."  She took a breath, looking like she thought she might have stepped too far and revealed a little bit too much about her self.  For all their family's money, Andrea must have been a lonely little girl.  "Anyways, I mean, are you really thinking about adding the part?  Are you?"

My first instincts were all, are you crazy?  This is my story, and I'll shape the way I want to!  But I needed a creative jolt, and to be callous about it, if I befriended this girl, perhaps I could learn more about how Gregor Robotics might be involved in out Trap.  "I'll tell you what.  Give me a chance to write something up and in a few days, you can come down to the studio to try out."

She was so excited that a pencil sharpener and some books that were on the corner of the desk just flew off.  I didn't see her hit them, but she must have as she got up.  "I'll be there, Mr. Martin!  You can count on me!  Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"  She got up and came around to me.  My gosh, she was so excited she almost seemed to be floating on air.

She approached me, and I thought she was going to hug me, but she stopped just short.  Instead she went over to her bodyguard and said, "I must prepare now.  Please take me to Mrs. Forsyth's room, Gary.  I must get my mind ready for this."

Gary led her out of the room.  Mrs. Novik smiled at me.  "Thank you, Lance.  That was sweet of you to let her do that."

"No problem, Mrs. Novik.  The soap needs a jolt, anyway," I said." 

"That is the most I've ever heard her say.  She may not be easy, Lance, you should be aware of that.  Let me know right away if there are any problems."

Yeah, I could see that.  I also had no idea if she could act her way out of a paper bag, or if she would be a talent to rival Franny Cranfield.

"You might to star her part real small, and she how it develops from there," said Mrs. Novik.

"Sure," I replied.  My curiosity got the better of me.  "I just wondered what is she doing here, though?  You would think that with all her family's money that she would be going to Huron Preparatory Academy or even someplace fancy out of state."

"Her choices may have been more narrowed than you think.  She's had some...well, never mind.  That's not my place to tell.  Just don't overtax her, and don't let her get too hyper, if you can help it.  And if other kids are mean to her, let me know."

"Will that bodyguard guy be with her?" I asked.

"Yes.  Wherever she is, that's where he is going to be."

"I don't know how Mr. Resart will feel about it."  Mr. Donald Resart was the teacher in charge of the TV studio.

"Don't worry about Mr. Resart.  I'll talk to him."

I nodded.  "Okay, Mrs. Novik.  We'll give it a whirly-burley.  See how it flies."  I actually hoped she didn't fly.  That would certainly make camera work awkward.

And that's my strongest memory of February.  Andrea turned out to be quite an actress, not as restrained or as talented as Franny, but the audience appreciated her somewhat wild antics.  She mostly came alive onstage, and offstage would only talk to me.  It was much later that I was able to figure out much more about Gregor Robotics, or even vital things about her.  Things that would have been good to know a whole lot earlier.

I have much stronger memories of March.  It was a month of significant changes, and the Trap would never be the same again.

Take A Trip to Oz this Year!!

It's Oz week!!!!! This is our 5th trip to Oz. All week we will look back at past shows. All Oz alumni get a $2 discount to the show. The Wizard of Oz opens Thursday at 7pm. Location RJ's Grill  (from the Flying Dragon's group site).

Pictured above is from when Benjamin played The Cowardly Lion.  That was one of three times that Benjamin was in The Wizard of Oz with Flying Dragon.  He also has played the Doorman and the Wizard.

Please note that the production is not on Tebeau Street.  They are performing at RJ Grills, which is outside of town on Ossie Davis Parkway, 1925 Ossie Davis Parkway.

Santa Knows



Santa Knows

by T. M. Strait

The little girl bounced up onto his knee.  She wasn't afraid of him, not like she was last year.  She was so much older and wiser now, now that she was five.

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas to you," and then there was a brief pause.  She smiled up at the jolly St. Nick.  "....Lilly Von Holman!"

Lilly squealed in delight.  "Santa!  You know my name!"

He chuckled.  "Yes, Santa knows. And what would you like for Christmas, Lilly?"

Lilly knew right off and said in a burst, "I want a Little Tina Horse and Stable Set, the one with the pretty Palomino Pal!"

Santa looked up at the parents, who nodded just enough to let Santa know that was okay.  "Of course, and you shall certainly find that under your tree at 1214 Sycamore Lane! And my elves can find it best on the fifth floor toy department at just $24.99!"  The father nodded again, but was slightly confused that Santa would know and say out loud their address.

"I also want a Pretty Princess Mini 4-Wheeler!" she piped in.

Santa looked up and the father shook his head no.  "Why, a good girl like you?  Of course you will get one!  And my elves can find that at Laramie's Golf Karts R Us for just $569.99!"

She hugged Santa again, and got down, taking her mother's hand.  The father came up to Santa, saying in angry whisper, "What are you doing?  Didn't you see me shake my head no!"

Santa looked at him and whispered back.  "Yes, I did.  And I know that you beat your wife in the early morning hours of November 28th at 3 AM.  Your daughter has been an exceptionally nice little girl, to have a father so rotten.  She deserves the 4-Wheeler and she will get it...unless, of course, you want to be reported."

The father sputtered, "Wh-what?  How dare you!  I-I never..."

"Yes, you did.  And if you ever do it again, you will never see that precious daughter of yours again. And don't try to fool Santa.  Santa knows."

_______________________

"It's amazing!" said Admiral Dosmar.  "I had no idea the technology could work that well!"

The store CEO nodded his head.  "It's amazing, Sir!  You are definitely spot on!  The Santa 3000NP is a top of the line AI robot.  It can communicate wirelessly with the internet and with all the other Santa 3000NP's that are active,  and can find out whatever information the child and the parent need to know.  They have facial recognition software and can identify most children right away."

"Why did it say the family's address?  Is that not a little bit too much?"

"Yes, that was a slight glitch.  We'll have to look into fixing that," answered the CEO.

The Admiral's granddaughter was next in line, a pretty little redheaded girl.

"Ho-ho-ho!  Merry Christmas!' gleefully said Santa, and then there was another slight pause. "....Kimberly Anne Dosmar!"

"That's fantastic!," said the Admiral, mulling over the military applications.

"And what do you want for Christmas, Kimberly?"

She quickly said, "A Rummy Tummy Tigger Story Doll, with hundreds of stories to tell me when I go to bed at night!"

Santa glanced up at the Admiral. The Admiral smiled and gave a nod. 

"Of course you can, Kimberly!  And my elves can find that on the fourth floor book department for $119.99!"

Kimberly hugged Santa, and started to get down when she remembered one more thing.  She got back in his lap, and said, "And I would really like for there to be peace on earth, so my Grandaddy can be home longer!"

Santa looked up at Admiral Dosmar.  The Admiral chortled and shrugged his shoulders.  What a funny, sweet little girl!

Santa looked blank for a several seconds.  The CEO wondered if he was malfunctioning.  Then Santa came out of it and said, "Of course, Kimberly!  World peace it is!"

The Admiral looked puzzled.  "That's sweet, but it's kind of setting her up for a fall later, don't you think?"

The Admiral's special cell began to ring, the one connected to the Joint Chiefs and the NSA.  He heard what they had to say and was stunned.  "What do you mean, the missiles have been deactivated?  All around the world?  And our defense electronic systems are jammed?  Wait!  What?  You're fading out!"

The Admiral looked furiously at the CEO.  "What systems are these things tied into?  Anything military?"

"Well, I mean, you know, how the kids like to track where Santa is...."

"You mean....?" sputtered the Admiral.

"NORAD," answered the CEO, scrunching down as if he was afraid he was going to be hit.

Kimberly looked up at Santa.  "You know how to bring world peace, Santa?"

Santa smiled at Kimberly.  "Oh yes, Kimberly." then looking glassily at the Admiral,......

  "......Santa knows."

Mighty B 14 and other Monday Musings

The Mighty B, Benjamin Strait, turns 14.  He holds up a present from his brother, Doug.  His mother, Alison, looks at him and wonders, when did he get to be so big?

Benjamin getting ready for the big Christmas parade.  WACT had a car in the parade, and all the cast marched (so to speak) the two miles or so route of the parade.  Benjamin held up a sign promoting the play.

Different entries lined up waiting for the start of the parade.  I'm not sure if it was supposed to be a Civic parade or a religious parade or what.  In the South, everything is a bit of a mix.  There were floats and entries from a huge variety of groups.

We have now concluded Hell Week of our play.  That is the week where rehearsals begin on a Monday and everything continues on each day, all the way through to a matinee on Sunday.  Everyone's pretty tired by the time late Sunday afternoon rolls around.  My part was not very big, but it still was a lot of time at the theater.  Benjamin's part was bigger, and he was very good throughout the week.  We had very good, responsive crowds, except for Saturday night.  I have no idea why some crowds fall completely silent.  If I could figure out how to fix that, I might really could be an actor.

Benjamin had a short birthday party, from 5:30 to 8:30.  He had five guys over, and they spent part of the time playing a game that Benjamin invented.  It was a spin off Dungeons & Dragons the he called "The Void" or something like that.

You would think we'd have to start dealing with girls, but he is a Strait boy after all.  We may have another decade or two to wait on that.

The good news?  The Big Ten has a team in the four team college football playoff!  The bad news?  It's Ohio State.  The crack of doom news?  They play Alabama first.  Annnnd probably last as well.  Another year of listening to SEC smack talk.  We have SEC fans here that are probably upset that all four teams aren't from the SEC.

Meanwhile, Brady Hoke has been fired by Michigan.  No new coach has been named yet.  I just hope it's someone who treats players well, respects academics, and challeges his players to be better people. And as a side benefit, helps the team become strong enough to crush the living hell out of an SEC opponent.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

Political Cornucopia: Saturday Political Soap Box 100!

This is my 100th political soapbox!

Another victory for persistence!

Another victory for quantity over quality!

For those of you who have followed this sub-group of my blog activity, I thank you!  I can tell by the page view counter on my blog, that these posts are being viewed, and in numbers greater than a lot of my other stuff.

The Saturday Political Soap Box began as notes on the note section of Facebook.  They would often get a healthy chain of comments.  Since moving to the blog, the number of comments have dramatically dwindled.  Part of that is the great difficulty that many have in getting comments to post.  I have set it to the most liberal (oh, yeah!) and open setting I can find, but it still requires some to jump through hoops and whistles just to comment.  But even when I repost to Facebook, Twitter and/or Google Plus, I get very little feedback.  I have posted MANY times my question asking conservatives to choose what they want done with healthcare, and they have NEVER responded.

I do get conservative responses when I repost a meme or story form someone else, but not usually my own stuff.

And yet......

I know they're viewed.  I have people come up to me and specifically mention the Saturday Political soap Box as something they enjoy.  I have a number of fans in Michigan, some who use my posts in their own political discussion groups.

So I will struggle on!

I have covered a wide range of political topics, so many that when current events seem to repeat themselves and fall into familiar patterns, I dust off old posts and just re-post them again.  Why keep re-inventing the wheel if I've already done it?

For newcomers, and for others that are not clear of my basic views, here goes:


I consider myself to be Independent Progressive.  Although not a traditional Liberal per se, I am close enough that I gladly accept that term.  I seem like a Democrat because our politics have grown increasingly polarized.  If you can find me a race where the Republican is more progressive than the Democrat, I will happily vote for him.

I vote first and foremost for candidates that will extend and improve access to the healthcare system.  The Affordable Care Act is a vast improvement on what we had before, and is succeeding even beyond my expectations.  I would love to see us move towards Medicare For All, and I do think we will eventually get there.

I support a top to bottom reform of our tax system, that would include the abolishment of traditional individual and corporate income taxes.  My ideas would preserve the progressivity of the tax system, but do so in a way that is less burdensome to the average citizen.

I do not consider myself an isolationist, but I do believe diplomacy, humanitarian support and economic ties are more important than guns and  military solutions.

I believe a balanced budget is a nice idea, but deficits and surpluses are sometimes necessary for government to fulfill its obligations.  The Progressive Caucus has had a plan to balance the budget and eliminate the deficit and greatly reduce the debt, but it has been ignored by the mainstream media, and by corporate politicians of both parties.

I am proud to have voted for Barack Obama four times, in both primaries and general elections.  I believe, even though he has run the country more to the center right than I like, that he has been an effective and pragmatic leader.  He has been hampered by an opposition that is vicious and nasty beyond measure, and cares more about his destruction than they do about the country.

Although I will vote for Hilary Clinton in the general election, I reserve the right to support a more progressive candidate.  If Elizabeth Warren runs, that will definitely be my candidate.  If not, then I will support Bernie Sanders or another progressive candidate, as opposed to a corporate Democrat.

I have many other beliefs and positions, and the best way to see them is to explore the labels at the end of the blog post.  I welcome any comment (except racist crap, or stuff where you attack other individual commentators), whether on the blog or other social media.

And unlike DC and Marvel comics and their traitorous renumbering, I promise to stick with my Soap Box numbering.

To #1,000 and beyond!

T. M. strait