The Weather is Going to Get You

Watch out, politicians!  The weather and traffic are going to get you!

It is more swift and certain than any scandal or disagreement of policy, any corruption or personal sliminess.  Misdeeds do not count as much as misreads of the weather.

Even Tammany Hall machine politicians in the 19th century knew not to mess with basic services, and providing support when weather went afoul.  Mayor John Lindsay of New York city caught hell for handling snow and garbage collection wrong.

President Bush Jr.mishandled and set us down the wrong track on so many things, from Iraq to creating huge debt, tanking the economy and removing privacy rights.  But none of this was enough to make the American people turn on him.  It was Katrina, and a picture of him observing the mess in an airplane, regally flying by it, completely tone deaf to the mess that it caused.   His popularity never recovered.

Governor Christie emerged from the pack of contenders for national recognition when he put political feelings aside and embraced President Obama, seeking federal help in the devastation of Hurricane Sandy.  It helped him soar to a major re-election victory in New Jersey.  He had huge political popularity among Republicans, Independents and Democrats.

But the same things that made him made him broke him.  Using traffic congestion to get revenge on a stubborn mayor?  Using Sandy funds as a political cudgel to discipline opposing politicians, and to support redevelopment projects for your big corporate sponsors?  Found sleeping with a hooker or even a horse, taking gifts he shouldn't or strong arming public unions?  Those he could get way with, but deliberately messing with traffic and making your commute longer just for spite?  Unforgivable!

President Obama has escaped such judgments so far. He has enough political savvy to know to be all in, and offer help as quickly as possible.  And any politician worth his salt, no matter how conservative, should know not to penny pinch when it comes to weather crises.

Mayor Reed of Atlanta, whom I like, and Governor Deal, whom I despise with every fiber of my being, are both political toast.  Their response and complicity in the Atlanta SnowInch-Mageddon has done them in.  They will not be forgiven nor redeemed.  Is that fair?  Yes, they do seem to share some legitimate responsibility.  At the root, though, metro Atlanta has had a miserable time being able to properly develop infrastructure.  They have traffic problems in the best of times.  This state, and other states, often do a piss poor job of helping their major cities. Urban centers are the major economic engines that fuel a state's ability to progress and grow their economy.  But often rural and suburban politicians spend far too much time thinking the cities (often filled with, gasp!, minorities) are the enemies.

The American people, although not ignoring storm response, should also be focused on the engine that is creating more extreme weather in the United States - climate change.  Until we elect politicians determined to deal with that, than the traffic problems in New Jersey and Atlanta are going to look like chump change.

Be ready for a lot of turn over, American politicians!  The weather crises, unfortunately, may be just beginning.

Someone's In the Kitchen With Love

Hold me cloves
And never let me dough
String my gloves
Pull it gently then let it go

Take me in your farms
Dancing tightly in your barn
Dizzied by my charms
Spun perfectly into my yarn

Kiss me near the chips
Caress me by the island
Dip me right into the dips
Peanut oils from Thailand

Open wide your pantry
I'm living for your larder
Light dressings are so scantry
Condiments induce me harder

Bless you, Cornucopia girl
And your beautiful, bountiful feast
Let's give it one more whirl
My appetite fades not the least

Candy coated Dove
Spicy smoking Hot
Rich sweet Love
Let it never Stop

Snowmaggedon Canceled and replaced by......FLAKEQUEST 2014!

Where the snow be???

From my driveway, as far out as I could get without wrecking my cellular device.  The white patch on the driveway is.....concrete.  There is a light cold rain, with very little wind.  No snow.  No sleet.  No ice.  

They told me there was sleet so I went out the back door of the office and this was what I captured.  I am sorry if the shocking nature of these photos are disturbing you, but I thought it was important to chronicle the truth.

The weather machine on my cellular device told me it was going to snow at 3:30.  This is the view out the attic window in my office.  Out of all the pictures in my imagination, I never quite dreamed it would be like this.

Sleet?  A tiny bit.

Icing?  If you look hard, there may be a little.  I haven't gotten much feedback yet, but I was just outside and saw a little on a plant and Alison's car.  Nothing on the driveway or road. 

Snowflake?  None noted by anybody, no verifiable sightings.

School was called off yesterday, and the start today delayed two hours.  At first, you think, they're being over-cautious, but then you see pictures of what happened in Atlanta, with some of the worst traffic jams of modern times as everyone left work and school at the same time, while the storm was in full swing.  Given that, I'll take our over-cautious route.

Still, I would have liked to see a little snow.  That would have been neat, and a reminder that seasons do occur.

FLAKEQUEST 2014 continues!

Foods of the Gods

Cherry Coke.....nectar of the Gods!

Broccoli, steamed with Italian dressing and Parmesan cheese....vegetable of the gods!

Gala apples...fruit of the gods!

Pizza with pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, and extra cheese....entree of the gods!

Cookies!........are the............cookies of the gods!

The gods don't distinguish much between cookies.  All are equal in their sight, as long as they are sweet and don't contain anise (which I often mispronounce, as if it were a planet).  Anise is from Hades. Or thereabouts. 

No Retreat Weekend and Other Monday Musings

It may have had kind of a retreat.  At least that's what the church called our vestry meeting that ran the length of Sunday afternoon.  We didn't really go anywhere, except for a tour of the church building (a surprisingly large facility), and had a good introductory meeting, getting to know each other and the challenges facing us.

But for me, there was no retreat.  Between work and other things, there was little time to relax, and even less time to write.  As I've said before, I'm like a runner who gets jittery if he don't get to get out for his morning run.  So I feel bothered by the fact that I did not get to write on the blog, or my two major writing projects - History of the Trap and Crowley Stories.

All was not completely lost.  Part of my busyness was doing research on a commissioned article about the antique shopping destinations in Blackshear.  So Alison and her mother (antique aficionados) helped me go around to all the stores, get a feel for them, and I spoke to most of the owners.  Blackshear has an opportunity to become a significant antique shopping destination, and I hope to play that up in my article.

We also went to the southeast Pet Expo, a new event featuring many of the area shelters.  There were pets to adopt, and pet supplies, and many wonderful pet loving friends.  It did our heart good to see so many people struggling to help this area be more caring and responsible with pets.

On Sunday I found myself in church from before 9 and until after 5,  Other than losing all that prime writing time at home, it was a good experience, and helped remind me of the richness and potential of our beautiful little church.  And unfortunately, of the myriad facility problems that we have.  I hate it when churches focus on building issues rather than focus on helping people and strengthening worship.  But there's a difference between trying to create a gold-plated parish hall or fancy gym, wasting money on plush decor, versus simply trying to preserve a roof on the building,  So even though I really have nothing to contribute to the building conversation. I will support whatever the church tries to do.  I want to grow the church family, not mold and mice.

The Grammys were on and I did not watch them.  I watch awards shows, more than most of the people I know, but I've never got into the Grammys. nor really any music awards show.  For the first time in my adult life, I've kind of lost track of contemporary music.  I never see music videos anymore, we dropped Sirius radio a year ago, and the record player I got from my Dad has fired up an appreciation for older music.  I know that Lorde girl had some big song, and I've probably heard it, but I can't recall it.  It doesn't play in my head.  This may be the first year in a long time when I'm not sure if any song from the last year has stood out to me.

I did submit a story to a contest, the first of the Crowley stories, Dark Day.  Hopefully, that's just a start and I will be doing a lot more of that in the future.  If nothing else, I have a blank wall that I can plaster with rejection letters.

Being a lazy lout, I'm ready for a day to myself, or at least some time to move my writing projects forward. But no such luck.  The submarine awaits!

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

You Can't Touch Me in David and Lisa

Way, way back in my junior year in high school, I played David in David and Lisa.  It was one of the rare times in theater that I played a young person.  Normally, I got whatever the oldest part in the play was.  Here David is being pleaded with by his mother, as played by Melody Chapman.

David was a freaky little teen, who was very fastidious, did everything by strict order, and didn't like to be touched.  Most of the play he was in an asylum for mentally disturbed young people.  It was like a form of Aspergers, although it wasn't called that - the term probably wasn't in vogue yet.  Here David is having a discussion with his psychiatrist, played ably by Bob Schultz.  Bob was an amazing radio voice, and was already a successful radio DJ.  He is the inspiration behind the character Bob Short in History of the Trap.

David in a scene with Lisa, a teen girl who has regressed to behaviors of a toddler. The play is how these two reach out to each other, despite the disability of their differing psychological problems.  Lisa is played by one of the best actresses I've ever had the pleasure to act with, Barb Bloomfield.  She was my next door neighbor, living right across the street. She had a younger brother named Randy, and although she and I dated once, she told me she could never get serious about me, because she saw me as her little brother's friend.  Barb starred in a number of plays and musicals, was in the band, and a straight A student.  I was a C student up though 9th grade, and I finally straightened out in 10th grade and got better grades to try and impress her.  It was not enough to get rid of the little brother's friend stink.  Barb is the inspiration behind the character Franny Cranfield in History of the Trap.

David and Lisa was a great challenge for me, playing somebody my own age and in a serious role.  The first time directors of the play, a husband and wife couple whose names have fled me, were very worried about the quality of the production, so they told everyone that a representative of PBS was going to come and select one production of David and Lisa, which apparently was being done by a number of schools across the country, and pick the best one to be televised.  This put a firecracker into our posterior region, and kids did step it up.  The story didn't make sense to me, so I asked the directors too many questions, until they took me aside and explained to me that it was not true, it was just a story they were telling  to motivate everybody.  They told me to keep it secret.  Barb Bloomfield (Lisa) also knew.

I was very uncomfortable with keeping this a secret, but I did.  I did, until after the play opened, and after curtain call, I met the girl who played Anne Frank.  It was a play that I was in the year before, and it was the closest, most gelled cast I'd ever been in (to this day, only 1940s Radio Musical Hour, Noises Off, and The Graduate could hold a candle to it).  I couldn't lie to Anne Frank, I just couldn't.  So I broke down and told her everything.  Barb and the Directors were very unhappy, but I just couldn't keep it up anymore.  I was ashamed I had done it as long as I did.

The play set was designed to be on a huge Lazy Susan device, that spun around to show different scenes.  You can see from the first picture that weaved wooden screens were used to separate scenes.  They were somewhat flimsy, particularly when spun around.  There was a scene where David and the psychiatrist were playing chess, him trying to delve into David's psyche, poor David not liking to be touched, when in one performance the background screen fell on us.  We were both very startled, the audience was a-gasp, and Bob and I just played through like nothing was going on.  So, yeah, I've literally had the set fall in on me.

Despite the difficulties, it was still a good theater experience, getting to play my own age in a serious role.

I didn't get the girl.  I participated in a lie.  I had the set fall on me.

But it was theater, man!

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Cold Nights, Warm Planet

It was cold outside last night.

Why, in some parts of the country, it snowed.

Therefore, global warming is a hoax.

Excuse me while I bang my head against the wall for a few minutes.  Please have a delicious beverage while I'm gone.

Okay, I'm back.

These early morning blog stories are not meant to be scholarly exercises, with tons of references and notes, but it does not take much investigation to realize that a) the average global temperature is indeed going up, and at an alarming rate and 2) that will cause global shifts in weather patterns, some of which may involve greater moisture and arctic air shifting further south as air currents change.  Ask Alaska about the winter - they are having one of their warmest ones ever.

Anyhoo, I prefer colder weather to warmer weather.  Dropping below freezing, as happens here occasionally  in the winter, can be a disturbing surprise, particularly as it never seems to snow when it does.  It seems a waste of cold to not snow, but I guess when we do get cold enough, it is dry arctic air that causes it.  Then it will warm back up and when it does, that is when the rains come.  Sigh.

Cold nights down here in South Georgia are hard to enjoy, not just because of the unexpected chill, but because everyone is so stressed about their pipes freezing.  I've been told it is because of the type of pipes here are not as cold resistant as the ones up north, something to do with PVC or something, I don't really know.  Really?  Like it's never going to get cold down here?  Are the pipes used here so much cheaper than up north that it's worth stressing all winter, or the cost of a break when it occurs?  Jeesh!  C'mon, people!  It does get cold sometimes - take the hit and get the better pipes!

I like it best when the temperature is no higher than 58.  I love to walk outdoors when I don't have to worry about a cloud of gnats surrounding my head.  But there is very little outdoor walking by me in the winter, because I am in tax season, and I don't often see the world in daylight.  So most of my favorite season here is spent in my cloistered, windowless attic office.

But speaking of winter, guess what Olympics is around the corner?  That's right - the Winter Olympics!  It's in a place called Sochi.  It's in Russia.  South Russia, on the Back Sea, near the Republic of Georgia.

Georgia.

Snow?

Well, let's wish them the best.

Obligatory Early 2014 Political Speculatron

Oh, it's been so long!

Time for a quickie political speculatron, trying to divine the future direction of our electoral future.

Who will the Democrats run in 2016?

If Hilary Clinton runs, and her health is good, she is the Democratic nominee and the next President of the United States.  She might have a challenger from the left. but it should not be enough to disrupt her.  Elizabeth Warren is the most credible opponent, but she has disavowed any interest in running.  The only advantage of this is that it might require Hilary to tack slightly more center-left in her approach.  I personally am to the left of Hilary, but I do believe she would make an effective President, way much more so than anything the Republicans have to offer.

Who will the Republicans run in 2016?

The mainstream, or shall I say Wall Street Republicans, are going to be desperate to turn the Tea Party wave aside, and nominate somebody a bit more salable to those not the right wing bubble.  Not that their candidates aren't highly conservative - they're just a little more corporatist and a tad less loony. Governor Chris Christie of New Jersey was the front-runner in this group, but now, with all his scandals, it may be a bridge too far.   I suppose he could survive his current problems.  Stranger things have happened in American politics.  There is a large segment of the American populace that actually do like bullies, although Christies may have gone too far.  Governor Scott Walker is an underdog possibility in this area - he tries to present himself as less extreme.  His state's economy is doing poorly, and he crushed the public unions in a state that had been a birthplace of unions, but again, he has that bullying thing that some Republicans find attractive, but without Christie's 'weight', so you never know.  I think the new front-runner, and most likely nominee, is Jeb Bush..  Yes, as crazy as it may sound, I think the Republicans may "go there" once again.  He has the best chance to bridge the gap between the different Republican interest groups.

There will emerge a candidate representing the Tea Party extremists in the Republican party.  This group is too crazy for me to predict solidly.  I believe it will come down to "Ayn" Rand Paul, Senator from Kentucky and Ted Cruz, Senator from TexarCanada.  I think Cruz will emerge as their representative, just because he has slightly more appeal to the Christian right.   This area of the electorate is the most volatile, though, and it is hard to predict what will most strike their fancy.

Oh.  I forgot about Marco Rubio, Senator from Florida.  But who hasn't done that?  Let me grab this glass of water from across the room and think if I have anything to say about him........oy, that was quite an awkward reach.....okay......I got nothing.

What will happen in the midterms?

Not much.  Pretty much everything has already been bought and paid for.  I expect very modest gains for the Democrats in the House, and pray that they hold onto the Senate.  Bottom line, the most ineffective, do nothing Congress in the history of our diminishing republic, just keeps rolling forward.

All of this, of course, is subject to constant change, and furious denials that I ever made these predictions.

For those brave few who have read this far, and are quasi political junkies like myself, what speculations do you have to share?  What is the shape of the coming elections?

Crickets chirp.

Flying WACT Past AdSense

Try and beat me, eh?

Think you got me down, eh?

Well, I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog eared ethics, too!

If you you won't let me run your ads, I'll run my own!

Starting today, I finally focused enough brain wattage to replace the empty space where AdSense was and replaced it with a small promotion of the wonderful organization that is Flying Dragon!

More to come!

Flying Dragon Arts Center!  A great place to help preserve, treasure and enhance your child's creative skills.  A place where every child shines!  A place where everyone can fly!

Two of our Dragoneers hold up signs about one of Flying Dragon's most recent and most delicious fundraiser, Sonic cards for only $5!

This play chronicles the lives of four sisters, Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy March, as they mature from children to women. Each heroine experiences trials, as well as triumphs, as they slowly leave their girlhoods behind. Come join us in bringing this classic tale to life!

Performances: Saturday, February 15th - 7:00 PM; Sunday, February 16th - 3:00 PM; Saturday, February 22nd - 7:00 PM; Sunday, February 23rd - 3:00 PM

Ticket Prices: Ages 13 & Up - $8; Ages 6-12 - $5; Ages 5 & Under - Free

Flying Dragon is at 405 Tebeau next to the Downtown Sandwich Shoppe.

And another great theater in our area is Waycross Area Community Theatre, who will soon be performing a classic rendition of The Wizard of Oz.  I very badly wanted to try out to be in this, but sadly common sense and tax season prevented from doing it.  It does have a great cast, and I can't wait to see it!

The No Holiday Holiday and Other Monday Musings

I've only worked one place that took off the Martin Luther King holiday, and that was the five years I worked at the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, back in the late eighties and early nineties.

The private employers I've had have ranged in attitude towards benign neglect to active disdain.  In my present job I think it is mostly a matter that there are no real holidays until after  April 15th.

Nevertheless I do think it's a significant holiday in this country, celebrating the progress we have made on civil rights, and the continued progress we hope to make in the future.  It also honors the power of non-violent civil disobedience.

In many ways, it is a deeply religious and spiritual holiday, representing the very best of our desires to extend love, respect and understanding to all of mankind.  The Kingdom of God only becomes more real the more we love our neighbors.

My son Doug is here for a visit.  We had a great time yesterday, including Wong's and a movie.  Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit proved to be a serviceable, good but not great, entertainment, re-spinning the origin of Tom Clancy's chief character.  Kenneth Brannagh was excellent as the Russian villain, but Keira Knightley, portraying Jack Ryan's girlfriend, struggled mightily to use an American accent, but often lost that valiant fight.  I'm not sure why they just didn't use an American actress.

He will be here today, enjoying the holiday with the rest of my family.  I will be at work,

It has been cold here.  Not Michigan cold, but cold enough.  And for whatever reason, the cold is getting to me more now than a week or two ago when it dropped into the teens.  Snow still seems an impossibility, as the cold we get is often dry, and precipitation only occurs when things warm back up.

Sometimes I think my ability to read aloud so well is nothing more than an entertaining parlor trick. I've never been able to figure out how to harness it to benefit my family financially. Oh, well.

Political notes:  Governor Christie has played completely into his stereotype, confirming that he is a bully, surrounding himself in an atmosphere where political payback is the norm, even at the risk of harming constituents.  He should disappear from the political scene, but America is a strange little place, so who knows?  Meanwhile, this is how Hilary Clinton becomes the next President of the United States:  she runs.

The ratings for Duck Dynasty have dropped by four million or so.  Phil Robertson's homophobic, racist and misogynistic remarks may have something to do with it.  But I think another reason may be that the premise is wearing thin.  Americans may be attracted to carny acts for awhile, but they do tend to get bored after awhile and move on.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

History of the Trap: July Nightmares Part 9

9

I spent a lot of time with Lisa.  We both needed the support, and it was a comfort just to have somebody to hold on to.  Much of it was spent in silence, in each other's arms.  I would stroke her beautiful hair that cascaded like a golden waterfall down her neck and upper back.  Periodically, out of nowhere, she would start to shake, as if it were freezing cold.  I just held her and caressed her, and whispered reassuring phrases.  "I'm here."  "I know."  "We'll get through this."  And the biggest lie of all, "It's going to be okay."

I was with her because we needed each other's company to support each other in the dark days after the tunnel collapse.  Not only did we lose two close friends, but it was hard for her to see the agony that Sue was going through.  Whether my Dad would have allowed it or not, she was set to marry Tom Bodell.  And now Tom was gone, killed in the massive explosion that rocked the tunnels.  For Lisa, the horror of our situation was sinking in with a grim finality.  "Lance, I am so sad for Sue, and for all of us. If that level of commitment and love can be taken away so swiftly and brutally, what else could we lose in here?  Anything could happen.   Could I lose you too?"  I had no answer except to hold her and stay by her side.

I was also with her because of my confrontation with Jack Kessler just before the explosion.  The big, threatening football player, bodyguard for the black marketer David Izzner, blamed us for Izzner's interrogation and for the discovery of their illicit moonshine stills in Mr. Black's band office.  I was not the one who told my father, but there would be no convincing Jack of that.  He had seen us together near the band office, where Lisa and I had surreptitiously observed a meeting between David and Mr. Black.  At first, he thought we were there just for a romantic tryst, but when the hammer started to come down, he viewed our being there in a different light.

Jack died when after shocks from the explosion reached even the deserted school auditorium, but not before he threatened Lisa with the most egregious kind of assault.  I had no idea whether Jack was going rogue with his accusations, or whether he was completely acting as Izzner's agent.

I was constantly looking over my shoulder, my thoughts divided between the horrible tragedy, and my fear of retribution from Izzner and his violent associates.  I was afraid to leave Lisa's side.  I had no idea what they were capable of.

A week after the tragedy, I still had heard nothing.  I was beginning to feel that maybe it was just Jack's unshared delusion, and everything was going to be alright.  David had not been arrested, and Mr. Black was stripped of his band duties, and given job responsibilities at the main office, where he was under constant surveillance.  So maybe the storm would pass.

That Wednesday, a week after the tunnel tragedy, I left Lisa's side long enough to go to the men's restroom.  There, at the urinal, the world went dark as a paper bag was placed over my head, and a voice I didn't recognize told me to keep my mouth shut.  I was lifted up and placed in a large trash can, which was then carried somewhere.  This could not have been easy, as although I was not very tall, I was not the lightest son of a gun on the planet.  I had lost a little weight in the trap, but not enough to make it easy to carry me.

After some travels, I was lifted out of the trash can, bag over my head, and placed in a seat.  I instantly recognized by the feel of the chair and the armrests, that I was in the school auditorium, the scene where Jack Kessler had met his demise.

Someone grabbed the paper bag, holding it in place, and then the bag was penetrated near my eyes.  The edge of a knife came perilously close to my eye.  I didn't have enough time to register the fear of it before it was already done.  It had opened a slit in the front big enough for me to see a figure sitting on the edge of the stage.

It was David Izzner, sitting in all his diminutive glory.  Yes, I was small for a guy, but David was tiny compared to me.  He made even Jerry Mack look tall in comparison.  He looked a bit like an elf, perched on the edge of a fireplace mantle.  He had red hair, in a close neat style, just a bit longer than a buzzcut, but not long enough to cover his ears, which now that I was staring at him did seem a bit pointed.

I started to turn my head to see who else was there.  "Don't turn around!" David cautioned.  "Look only at me!"

I instantly obeyed.

"Did you know?  This is where my good friend died.  Yes, somehow big old tough Jack just fell down and broke his crown.  Tragic how stuff like that happens, isn't it?"

All I could do was croak out, "Y-yes."

"But what am I telling you for?  I men, we all suffered terrible losses last week, didn't we?  Such a horrible waste.  I mean Tom Bodell alone, such a loss!  I really could have used his mechanical prowess....I mean, of course, we all could have used it.  Any rate, I don't need to tell you how it is to lose somebody close to you."

"N-no."  All articulation had flown from me.

"I don't know what happened in here.  I do know that Jack was trying to find you just before the accident."  David got down from his perch, and moved closer to me, so that all I could see through the slit was his elfin face.  "Did he?"

"D-did he what?"

"Did he see you just before the accident?"  His voice and stare grew colder.

What do I say?  What if someone had seen us together in the auditorium, or knew that we were both there at the same time?  I had to say something.  So I took a chance with "N-no."

David sighed and went back to his perch on the stage.  "Oh, well.  I had hoped that you might know what happened.  Regardless, I have something important to tell you."

My heart stopped.  It was coming.  As long as it was just me and not Lisa, I could live with it.  Or not live, as the case may be.

"I don't believe you or any of your friends were the ones that snitched to the administration.  Furthermore, I don't believe you ever will.  Do I have that right?"

It took a second to register, and then I nodded my affirmation. "Yes. Absolutely."

"Good.  And I trust you completely.  I think you know the consequences otherwise."

Oh, yes.  I believe that I had absorbed that point.

"In exchange, you have my solemn promise that I, nor none of the people that work for me and answer to me, will ever come after you or your friends in any way.  And if you appreciate nothing else from me, please understand this.  I pride myself in being an excellent businessman, and my word is my bond.  If I don't have that, what else do I have?"

I accepted what David had to say.  I knew that he loved to be profitable, and the best way to do that was by threading the needle between his potential customers and the authority figures he had to work around.  If I was harmed, or I believed my friends were harmed by him, he would incur the incalculable wrath of my father. All his business opportunities would be gone, and potentially his very freedom.  I could see from his perspective, it was in his best interest to give me a wide path. Jack must have indeed gone rogue in his attack upon me, and with his ugly threats to Lisa.

Soon I was transported back to the men's room that they had taken me from.  I never got a glimpse of my other abductors.  They had to have been big.  That's all I could figure out. 

I came back to Lisa, who was still in the cafeteria, concerned over how long I had been gone.

"You've been gone a long time," Lisa said. She had a sight grin on her face, the first I had seen in the last week.  "You must have had a lot to work out."

"Sweetheart, you have no idea."

We held each other for a very long time.  

Ripping Good Yarns: Streaming Across A TV Universe

Well, it's been a over a year now that we've had high speed Internet at the Strait household, and there's a new set of TV shows that we watch the new fangled way - streaming right to our TV sets using different streaming services.  We are not quite binge watchers, but we do see an episode or two a week of each of the shows mentioned here.

This is the show I've been watching off an on for years, even trying to stream before we had high speed Internet.  They are macabre little stories, often more intense than you would expect from 50s television, but they are enjoyable to watch.  The dramatic anthology has disappeared from television, and I for one miss them.  I watch these by myself, sometimes on my Kindle.  The episodes stream from Netflix.

We are slowly working our way through The Office.  This is a great workplace comedy, with many great characters and funny moments.  We are in the middle of season six, and are amazed at how Michael Scott holds on to his job.  The relationship between Pam and Jim is one of the best and most romantic I have seen on television.  Alison and I watch these via Netflix.

Alison and I enjoy Downton Abbey.  We are only in Season Two, so we have had to close our eyes and ears to all the spoiler talk about what is coming up.  That is one of the problems in trying to catch up to a show that has high current buzz.  I am more egalitarian so the whole "servant" thing kind of bothers me, but I am trying to think of the show as a history lesson, and a reflection of the time it came from.  We catch this from Amazon Prime.

Alison and I have recently started Orange is the New Black.  About six episodes in, it is an intriguing, well written show that is not your typical 'Women in Prison' fare.  Like all great shows, it's the characters that sell it, and this show has some truly great characters.  It is definitely adult in tone, not for the kids, and streamed via Netflix.

This is a British drama (tinged with comedy) about five young juveniles, endowed with super powers by a freak weather storm.  It is for mature audiences, as the British seem to be less squeamish and/or prudish about certain things. I watch this from Hulu Plus, and it really displays the British gift for good science fiction.   Speaking of which...... 

Benjamin wanted us to start Dr. Who (via Netflix), and we have recently started watching it as a family show, beginning with the 2005 revival.  I suggested we see some classic Dr. Who, from the original series.  He's not there yet, but I'm working on him!

When I Was Five

When I was five
I spun around with a deck of cards
They sprayed all around the schoolroom
Like flying soldiers filling the air with a swishing swoon
Diamonds and clubs and kings and things

When I was five
I shattered the gendered playroom
I was the only boy on the girl's side
A midst the play kitchen and table and dishes and dolls
I was the husband and father and brother and son

When I was five
And the girls decided to banish me
I organized the boys and we took
Styrofoam building blocks breaking the barrier between
And we began to play together

When I was five
The one thing the teacher told us not to do
Was go down the slide backwards
So that is what I had to do
I just had to

When I was five
I never told the teacher what I knew
I would wait until I got home
And tell my mother everything
All the things I learned

When I was five
I could read everything the teacher wrote
She thought she was just helping us with ABCs
Bu I could read her notes to her friends
What was "A wild date with Bill" I wondered

When I was five
I heard my own drum
I followed my own dreams
I listened to my own rules
I was a rebel without a clue

When I was five
I was very small
There were many facts and figures I did not know
But my imagination was large
As big as the world

And then every year it got smaller and smaller
As everything else got bigger and bigger

Sometimes I miss
When I was five

Michael Moore and Me

We're just like peas in a pod!

In theory.

Michael Moore was raised in a town only 42 miles southeast of mine.  He was raised in Davison, Michigan near Flint, and I was raised in Bridgeport, smack dab next to Saginaw.

I have been a fan of Michael Moore's works for quite awhile now, from the time I saw his first film, Roger and Me, a year or two after it's initial release.  I knew that he was from near where I grew up, but it wasn't until I recently completed his autobiographical book, Here Comes Trouble, that I realized how much alike we really were.

He is roughly a year older, but close enough that we went through similar cultural experiences and had about the same reaction to them.  The Kennedy assassinations, the so-called race riots out of Detroit, the Vietnam War, MLK - all had major impacts on our lives and our thinking.

He fulfilled about the same role in school as I did in mine.  We were both personally conservative (no drugs, studious, not flashy, polite and shy with girls), but at the same time liberal in our politics.  We both had a reputation for being rabble rousers on occasion, taking stands that risked upsetting our peers and adults.

One of the first girls to show interest in him was impressed by his Nixon impersonation - so was my first true love.  He made his mark in student government, as did I.  He kind of got dis-invited because the school staff student government liaison thought he raised too many questions and uncomfortable issues.  I survived student government, but did get booted from a student business group because i asked too many things and my imagination was just too wild for them.  He thought long and hard about the Vietnam War, and what he would do if he was drafted.  I remember having the same worries.  I could go on and on.

He grew up in an area where the income disparity was not that great, living on the same street with professionals ranging from doctors to teachers, other government employees, retail managers, factory workers and mechanics.  Every body's salary was in a spit shot of everyone else's.  This is what I grew up in as well.    Later, I would see statistics that would show that where we lived had one of the best per capita incomes on the planet - the middle class was huge compared to the rich and the poor.

As I moved south, the income disparities increased, and I found it very disillusioning.  And back home, as the factories moved out to find cheaper labor to exploit, the relative income equality even collapsed back where Michael and I grew up.  Hence the theme of his first excellent documentary, Roger and Me, about the economic decline of Flint, and GM's disinterest in what they had wrought.

As I've seen his work, I can't help but see a bit of me in it as well, maybe enough for us to be friends if we knew each other.

But probably not.

We often think we're closer to our celebrity favorites than we actually are.  We confuse the way we think with the way we think they think.  And who really knows?

If I met Michael Moore, I would like to think that I would be immediately friendly, and we'd be talking like best buds within a day or two.  I would be cool and wouldn't swamp him with fan boy nonsense.

And he's not the only celebrity I delude myself with.  I've read more of Stephen King's words than any other person on Earth, including my own.  I get so wrapped up in his stories, I think we have to be exactly alike.  But we're not.  If I was actually talking with him, I would be just as lost as everyone else.

If I met Nathan Fillion, an actor I admire and identify with, I would like to think we would just jibe each other about the craft table, or when ol' buddy George R. R. Martin is ever gonna come up with the next Game of Thrones book.  But I would probably just babble something about how cool Firefly was, and if he ever thought that he could be Captain Mal Reynolds again....just a like a gazillion other fanboys would.

If I met Stephen King, I probably wouldn't commiserate about raising kids, or how close now he felt to the Episcopalian church.  I would probably just mumble the same stupid question that everyone does...where do you get your ideas?

And if I ever met Michael Moore, I probably wouldn't talk about the good old days back in the Flint/Saginaw area, or how if he went to my school  he never would have wanted to get on the school board in order to fire the principal because my DAD was the principal and was more cool and understanding than his principal...why, I was on the student council and my Dad PUT UP with me being a rabble rouser, even encouraged it a bit.  I wish he could have met my Dad.  Or to know that the last time I was at the movie theater with my Dad was to see Moore's film Sicko, his great movie about our rotten health care system.

But probably not.

Probably be lucky to mutter, "Enjoy your work, Mr. Moore" and move on.

Any rate, thank you for your works, Michael Moore, and thank you for helping remind me what it was like growing up.  It wasn't a perfect world, but there was so much promise.  So much hope.

We dreamed big once.

Maybe we can do it again.

Watery Weekend and Other Monday Musings

Benjamin spent his Sunday afternoon away from us.  Our friends and fellow parishioners, John Pharr and Carolyn McNeely took him to Brunswick, where he learned about what he could do to help take of the Satilla River, how he could help preserve and make sure the water was safe.  He learned testing techniques.  He enjoyed it, and is ready to join the Satilla Riverkeepers. Now, if he can learn to get over his genetically inherited terror of insects, he might actually be able to contribute year round.

There are a lot of people who use the river irresponsibly, polluting and contamination coming from both public and commercial users.  The number of river users who thinks it's okay to strew trash all over it is astounding.  Chances are anyone who reads this is not part of the problem, but you may know somebody who is.  If you can ask them what the hell they are thinking, why they think dumping crap in the river or on it's banks is okay.  I can't imagine what the answer will be.

Speaking of watery pollutants, one of the biggest news stories in the country, although you may not be able to tell that from the mainstream media, is that 300,000 plus are without water in West Virginia due to an industrial polluter leaking some very dangerous chemicals into the water supply.  The corporation that did this is and remains unregulated, because in West Virginia law, they only store and don't produce.  Expect more of these fun loopholes as TeaPartyPublicans continue to tighten their grip on Red State America.

Another fun fact about Republicorp hold on vast swaths of this great land is it's resistance to any upgrades or repair of infrastructure.  Benjamin left school Friday almost immediately upon arriving as a water main broke near the middle school and high school.  Without working water, they were not going to keep the kids there. The pipes and much of the water supply infrastructure in Blackshear is over a century old, made of clay, and is way past the need to be replaced.  In the current political environment, good luck getting that to happen.  We will just have to stagger from crisis to crisis.

There were strong storms this weekend, and at times we heard some loud bangs on our metal roof.  We never saw anything, but we suspect that there were some major tree limbs or other objects that gave, somewhere on or near our house, a good thwack.  The weather patterns in this area are such that when the temperatures drop below freezing, it is dry arctic air, ergo killing any chance of snow.  Then the temps warm up and lo!  - the rains doth come!

It was the weekend at our church to celebrate the baptism of Jesus.  There was much focus on the renewing spirit of water, and the life and rebirth it represents.  Sunday school discussed how God is in our very act of breathing.

All in all, a very watery weekend.  A vibrant necessity to the wonder of life, and the very renewal of our spirit.  And something we each have a responsibility for.  For helping to keep pure.  To holding it sacred and holy.  For without water, there is no life.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

History of the Trap: July Nightmares Part 8

8

Most of the bodies were recovered, but not all.  It was deemed unsafe, and that branch of the tunnel was closed off.  Although the tunnels continued to mystify us, and some truly amazing (and occasionally horrible) things were discovered down there, a way out was not one of them. 

Jim Kurrash was in the first group of bodies that were brought up.  Mary Estill was beside herself in grief.  Ginny and Lisa held onto her as she shook.

Sue Boschman held firm to the belief that Tom Bodell, the man (and if any of us in our group was a man, in all the best senses of the word, it was Tom) she had recently joyfully agreed to marry, would emerge soon from the wreckage.  If anyone knew the right place to be in an explosion, how to protect himself and others, it had to be Tom. 

Hours later, the last body to be removed from the tunnel wreckage was Tom.  David Yankovich and twelve others were never found.  We presumed them dead, and nothing that has happened since shows otherwise.  Had David lived, Sue might have killed him, as she fully blamed him for whatever tragedy occurred.  She had talked to Tom enough to know that he remained convinced that explosives would be too dangerous to use down there, and that it was David who kept insisting that they use them.

There was a mass funeral held in the gym the next day.  It was a very grim affair.  My Dad and the other administrators looked very haggard and defeated.  It was hard to hold up a strong front in the midst of such gruesome tragedy.

With this many deaths, it touched virtually every one of us.  Everyone knew well at least one or two of those that were killed or missing.  The entire Trap was flooded in a rain of tears and grief.

Individual funerals were held in smaller groups over the next few days.  We held one for Jim and Tom, a joint funeral that Artie did his best to turn into a celebration and remembrance of their lives.  Tom I had known since I was a freshman and Jim since 7th Grade.  I had started virtually every school morning with them, talked to one or both of them every day. Tom was a mechanical genius, but who never seemed to talk over our heads.  He could explain things in a way that almost made me understand, and I was the complete opposite on the mechanical spectrum to him.  Jim, our football player buddy,   was the very epitome of the strong, silent type,  and was the kindest, gentlest person I ever had the privilege of knowing. 

Jim and Tom were great friends who would be sorely missed.  Their contributions to all of us stuck here would be sorely missed as well.  No one had the mechanical expertise of Tom, and there would be many times over the next nine plus years that we could have so used that.  And I cannot underestimate the importance of Jim's gentle strength, which would have been such a helpful and calming guidance in all the troubles to come.

Mary Estill continued to cry at the funeral, and frequently for days after.  Except for that first day, Sue never cried again.  She was incredibly stiff most of the time, as if she could uncoil and spring at someone at any moment.  Her eyes were glazed over, filled with a brimming anger.  She refused all efforts to comfort her.  We tried everything we could to reach out to her, but nothing worked.  I keep thinking we should have tried harder, and maybe things would have turned out different for her.

The bodies were buried in the back of the property, close to where I-375 should be.  However, we no longer could see the freeway.  Just thick, dark woods that lay just beyond the trap barrier. For a couple of years, we though if we could just walk through those woods, we could find the freeway just beyond them and be rescued.  We were wrong about that.

Our makeshift cemetery was growing bigger than we dreamed it could.  Thirty-three graves were added to the fifteen already there, plus another marker for all those missing but not found, listing all their names. Over time, more markers would have multiple names.  It got to be the only way to fit everybody in.

Ripping Good Yarns: Winter TV Is Coming

Sawyer's back!  Well, Josh Holloway at any rate.  This new series started on CBS this week.  Josh plays a covert operative who has been enhanced by the implantation of a chip that helps him instantly access technology.  This helps him do things that put him in the super power category.  He also demonstrates physical skills that almost make him put him league with The Six Million Dollar Man minus the bionic limbs.  He is so powerful that it makes you think of him as Ramboesque in anyone's ability to challenge him.  Based on the pilot, this is a good show but not a great show.  I give it 6 out of 10.

Promoted as being edgy, Quentin Tarantino like , the pilot was nowhere near as hip as it promoted itself being.  On basic or pay cable, with better writers, this show might be interesting.  As it is, I only give it 3/10.

Psych!  A full family treat for us, we loves our time with Shawn, Gus and the pineapple.  This season is rumored to be their last.  Sniff!  They will be missed.  8/10.

Did I think I was going to like a show featuring Kentucky redneck criminals?  no, but what can you do when the show has Elmore Leonard as it;s muse, Timothy Olyphant as it's star, Walter Goggins as a villain as vibrant as the Joker, incredible guest stars, and top notch writing?  all you can do is climb aboard the Justified Express and enjoy the ride!  8/10.

I know few who read this get HBO, but for those of you who do, I am looking forward to this series.  Look at the stars mentioned above.  The previews for it have been dark and intriguing, like a cross between True Blood and Twin Peaks.  I'll get back to you with a grade later!

Dream Float

Sometimes there are no dreams
They just float away down streams

Something occurs that shatters hopes
They fritter abay beyond scopes

Somewhere they are no longer waiting
They find love is completing abating

Somehow every single vision
     every single promise
          every single prayer
They disintegrate in our grasp
      sinking into nothingness
          whispering into oblivion

It's A Bird, It's A Plane, It's A Mad Scientist in Superman

That's me, throwing WAY back to my Junior year in high school, where I played the Mad Scientist in the musical It's A Bird, It's A Plane, It's Superman.  Here I am in the middle of my number, Revenge, where I really got to let the ham flag fly.  I did Revenge once at an open mike at Flying Dragon, and used it for the basis of a song for the Wicked Witch the year I directed The Wizard of Oz.

Fellow thespian Al Bacon and I sing You've got What I Need, where I frightened large groups of people with my mad dance skills.  Al, on the other, could dance like a pro, and at one point, leaped right over me, Bride of Frankenstein hair and all.

Near the big finitch, where I hold Lois Lane, played by Ann Pepera, hostage, while Superman, played by Tim Deneau, looks carefully for his opportunity.  Ann was a beautiful singer and a varsity cheerleader.  Tim was outstanding at everything - not only an excellent actor and singer, he was at the head of his class in academics, politics, and was about our only All-conference football player.  But most importantly, both of them were very kind and friendly,

I couldn't be in the musical my first two years in high school.  You had to be in the music department to be eligible.So my junior year I joined the choir, just so I could qualify.  There was no way they were going to do a musical about Superman and I not be in it.

I gave it my all in tryouts.  I sang the only song I could remember, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, not knowing anything about pitch or range, I sang it about an octave higher than anyone else had ever sung it. The music directors, who were also the band teachers, were stunned.  I thought I had screwed up for sure.  Instead, they took me to one of their homes after tryouts, and had me sing scales, trying to figure out how high I could go.  They told me I could be a countertenor, a rare voice that if I wanted to develop it, could make me a lot of money in opera and such.  Being a lonely, but romantically inclined teenage boy, I did not place being known for singing like a girl high on my agenda.

Despite my voice, they cast me as the Mad Scientist, a role I ate up with a flourish.  The musical seemed to be only tangentially based on the comic books, but even though I was (and am) a comic book nerd, I let all of that pass.  The script didn't say I was Lex Luthor - didn't even seem to acknowledge him, but to me...I was LEX LUTHOR (albeit a hairy version).

I have recommended this musical to every theater group I have ever been involved with.  They have all passed.  It is super cheesy, and getting more cheesy and creaky every year.  Nevertheless, it is a blast, fun for the cast and the audience.

Would I love to do the Mad Scientist again?  Oh, you bet!  And hear is an extra bonus consideration to any cost conscious director out there -

Unlike when I was in high school -  you no longer have to do anything to turn my hair white. 

Leslie Crane, Featured OHC Writer for January 2014

Sometimes, if you really love to write, you have to be willing to to go behind the couch to do it.

Leslie Crane, AKA L Thornhill Crane, has done that.

Leslie will be the Okefenokee Writer's Guild's first selection to have their works shown at the Exhibit receptions at Okefenokee Heritage Center.  This first exhibition will be this Thursday from 5:30 to 7 PM.

Leslie is married, the mother of two, and is a full time teacher.  Even though she is very busy, and he life is full, she still finds the time to write stories and even novels.  Sometimes she'll go behind the couch in the living room, and while her children are watching TV, will write from her laptop.

Leslie's specialty is Christian fiction, and does a wide variety within that genre, including historical, contemporary, and even some with the hint of the supernatural.  She has two self-published novels, which are pictured above.  The Life I Left Behind is in part the result of a dare on her student's part to write a "Christian vampire" story.  Come to Me Like Rain is a historical novel, with romantic overtones, and is set in South Georgia in 1915.  It is a thematically rich novel, and deals with many issues, like racism, abuse, depression and guilt.  Coming soon is Tied to the Draw. a modern day retelling of the story of Hosea set in the South Georgia town of Nine Run.

Some of Leslie's writings are also available on Wattpad, and her own blog, www.mycornerlthornhillcrane.blogspot.com

Leslie is a French teacher at Wayne County High School, and is originally from Alabama (to the best of my knowledge, there was no banjo on her knee), and has lived in South Georgia since 2001.  She lives in Screven, Georgia, and is a member of both the OHC Writer's Guild, and Wayne County Writer's Guild.

Please come see her Thursday and hear an excerpt from her work.  Her first two novels will be available for sale, and there will be other Guilds who will have works on display.  Come celebrate the arts with us!

UPDATE:  This event took place last night (Thursday Jan 9) and was a great start to our Featured Writer series.  She did an awesome reading from her latest book, and everyone was very impressed.  The Photography Guild had some great photos on display, and there were some tasty vittles there.

Ripping Good Yarns: 2013 Book Hall of Fame WINNER!

The results are in!

First - a summary of winners from past categories -

Ripping Good Yarns TV Hall of Fame

2012     M*A*S*H

2013   Seinfeld

Ripping Good Yarns Movie Hall of Fame

2012  Star Wars

2013 The Wizard of Oz

Ripping Good Yarns Book Hall of Fame

2012  To Kill A Mockingbird

The results of this year's Book Hall of Fame vote:

Receiving no votes:

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells

Receiving 6% each:

The Harry Potter Series by JK Rowling

A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien

Receiving 13%:

The Stand by Stephen King

Receiving 19% each:

A Tree Grows In Brooklyn by Betty Smith

Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maude Montgomery

And this year's winner, with 25% of the vote:

The Catcher In the Rye by JD Salinger

An amazing book, and like last year's book, it is a book that stands out as the singular achievement of the author's career.  It really was an opening bell to youth culture in this country, and was an insightful look into teen angst.  It is one of the most read and published American fiction books, and also one of the most censored from public and school libraries.  If there has been a successful movie or theatrical adaption of this, I am not aware of it.

And there you have it.  Three Hall of Fames, each with their initial two entries.  Keep checking in with Ripping Good Yarns for the 2014 votes for TV and Movie and Book Hall of Fame.  Meanwhile, reach into your bookshelf or local library and catch up on one of these great books today!