Expl***ve De**ted!

Well, I had this week’s topic all lined up and ready to go (in my head, at least) and in comes an email from left field that requires immediate attention. It seems that a reader took exception to my use of the “F-bomb” (her term, not mine) in my latest column. The dreaded f-word and its associated nefarious reputation had reared its ugly head yet again. You see, there was much internal debate over the usage of expletives in my book. Granted, there were only a few terms that one might consider offensive, but nevertheless the debate raged. (I won that debate because, after all, the words are mine and I am to be held exclusively accountable for anything with my name upon it.)

The aforementioned expletives have appeared rarely in my columns to date because the topics have been reasonably serious and, as such, I attempted to maintain a serious tone while illuminating the angle as it appeared to me. But last week, in defining “wreckreation”, I used that damned f-word. So let’s spend the rest of today’s time together in exploring style and substance.

Many of us swear while others do not. Some try to limit their cursing with varying degrees of success. Most of us hear words that we may not use in our daily vernacular and find ways of abiding those instances. Literature also provides the opportunity to read words never thought of being uttered, yet we read on. My point is that, while we may try to maintain a level of decorum in our own speaking habits, we seem less averse to hearing or reading the same words.

But don’t try to tell me that there is a living, breathing adult that doesn’t “think” many of these same words when the proverbial shit hits the proverbial fan. (Oh, god: the s-word!) And to prove my point, I will provide five conversations with the expletives suitably deleted:

1. The two hooligans sauntered onto the crosstown bus and slouched into the
   “Seniors Only” seats across from an elderly couple. “Take a look at those old f**ks”, said one to his friend. “They’re older than my grandparents and my grandparents are the oldest f**ks I know!”
2. He sat next to the attractive lady on a park bench. It was his lunch hour (and hers). “You look like you could use a good f**k”, he said. She smiled and replied, “As a matter of fact, a good f**k is exactly what I need right now. Can you help me out?” “As a matter of fact, I can”, he said as he reached into his pants pocket.
3. “Perhaps we could take a stroll outside and you could sit on my d**k. I’ve been told             it’s the longest d**k in the neighborhood.” “Oooh”, she purred. “Nothing beats a nice,    long d**k.”
4. “Let’s cut to the chase”, she said. “Word is that you’ve got the biggest d**k anyone has ever seen. True?” “Well, yes it is”, he replied, “but we’ll have to go outside for you to see it.” “My god! That is the biggest d**k I’ve ever seen! How in the hell did you end up with a d**k that big?”
5. “You are such a s**t!”, she cried as her brother pushed her into the mud. “I’ve never seen such a pile of s**t in my entire life and pray that you will eat s**t for the rest of your days!”

So, dear reader, are you properly aghast at such language in a supposedly intellectual discussion? I know, it is shocking that I could conjure up such filth. Bear with me one more moment, though, and allow me to add one more sentence to each of the above passages: 

1. “Yeah, but one day we’ll be old folks, too.”
2. “You would think that the deli would have provided you a fork when you bought your salad.”
3. “Yes, a long dock takes you farther out into the bay and provides a much better view.”
4. “Well, he flew into my yard one day and I’ve been feeding him ever since. He is one, big, happy duck.”
5. “Fine with me, sis; I love snot!”

Confused? “Folks”, “fork”, “dock”, “duck”, and “snot” are not expletives, are they? No, but I’d bet a dime to a doughnut that you read other words into those asterisked blanks regardless of whether such words ever escaped your lips. So, should I substitute asterisks for letters, my meaning may be widely misconstrued. The same applies to “friggin”, “freakin”, “screwin”, or “fookin”. Regardless of what I write, the reader generally sees the word I’m dancing around.

The words I write represent my best attempt at what might be called an artistic endeavor. As such, my mind directs my fingertips and the few expletives that appear on the page are not “added” for effect. They are there to complete the point I am trying to make and, much like spices in a recipe, combine in an attempt to render an end product both pleasing and thought-provoking. An expletive may cause a bump in your literary highway, but perhaps I am seeking such a bump to cause you to react and reflect on a specific passage. It is time to rate substance over style and take the time to delve into the message with less regard for the wrapping. While I attempt to avoid bombarding your senses with gratuitous profanity, I ask for your indulgence in hearing me out before discarding my thoughts out of hand.

My emailing reader also suggested that the use of such words separates me from more established, mainstream columnists and, should I wish to be included in such company, I should refrain from such verbiage. Well, I only know one established, mainstream columnist who told me that, if it were not for his editor and the Victorian mentality of newspaper vocabularies, an occasional expletive would, indeed, be found in his pieces. So, with a nod to Norman Mailer, gimme a friggin’ break!

Come one, Come all!

What with the recent change of administrations in Washington, there seems to be a renewed call for some sort of “national service”. Nothing new to us old-timers: we knew it as the Draft. While the two ideas share some similarities, they seem to be more different than alike (at least to me). But opponents of national service will continue to equate the two terms because of the visceral reaction to the word “Draft”. 

So let’s rename the Draft and combine it with any other form of national service. How about “Recess”? Who doesn’t like recess? And that’s what it would be: a break, but instead of coming between morning and afternoon classes, it would come between the end of formal education and the beginning of the rest of our lives. And it could stand for “Required Extra-Curricular Effort for the Sake of Society”. (Everybody loves acronyms.) And it would include everyone, not just the military minded.

OK, so now we’ve established Recess as the new game in town. What are the rules? Well, how about a two-year time frame? That gives everyone a chance to come on in, settle into a given position, and actually learn some discipline along with other, more specific skills that may well come in handy farther down life’s highway. Any area that is funded, at least partially, by federal tax dollars and serves to promote the quality of our society is fair game: the Park Service, transportation projects, energy producing facilities, you name it. God knows we could all use some new blood and the ideas it brings in just about every facet of the infrastructure we all use. Granted, the military will still be available for those wanting to pursue that avenue, but many more opportunities must be made available for the many more participants.

We’ve all got something that turns our motors on and Recess would allow the opportunity to explore the possibilities without the worry of “wasting two years of our life”. Hell, since everyone’s in the same boat there’s nothing to lose and everything to gain. Our college types get a pass until they graduate or five years, whichever comes first. Save the advanced degrees for later. And no exceptions or deferments for you Dick Cheney’s out there. 

Perhaps the best part is that it could be instituted almost immediately. The opportunities and job vacancies are there. All we need to establish is the database and create the application. I’d say the Selective Service System would be happy to share its records, wouldn’t you? That covers all the young men. The young women can enroll in a similar fashion and Bingo! We’re up and running. No more worrying over finding a job for the non-college bound so unemployment figures go down, too. Of course, pay and benefits would vary by chosen positions, but entry-level wages could be similar to those we now offer to new military inductees. And yes, the wages would come out of our taxes, but what better investment than our society and future generations with a renewed sense of service, responsibility, and accountability. Aptitude tests? Couldn’t hurt, but remember that we let the participants figure out where they want to go and should they be unsuited for Plan A, Plan B may be a little less discretionary. 

We now have a program that expects each young citizen to step up and put some effort into making this country a little better place to be. In return, our young citizens learn some responsibility and perhaps gain a better understanding into what is to be done with the future. And it’s called Recess (a good thing). As for the Draft: let’s send it to the round file where all anachronisms and their baggage go to die.

Hey, Buddy: Got a Minute?

My earlier columns have been finalized on the week-end and focus on noteworthy events of the previous week. I am writing this piece, however, on Monday morning. Not because the subject is mundane. Conversely, because it is timeless and I won’t need to wait another few days before deciding to write on the value of two things: free time and friendship.

Each of us has available time in which to do as we “please”. Granted some of that free time is spent accomplishing household tasks and such, and much too often those tasks expand to fill up the entire allotment of time available for more trivial pursuits. I currently live on 40 acres comprised of pasture and trees. The terrain is rolling and, in a few areas, closer to steep. Trust me when I tell you that I have no need for a gym membership. My ranch provides ample opportunity for exercise.

There is always something to cut, something to spray, something to burn, or something to repair on my ranch and there is no doubt that I will pass from this life without completing the work that awaits me. While this may sound depressing, it is, in fact, liberating. You see, if the chance comes along to do something a little more entertaining, I take it. There is no “done” that I am striving toward so another day, more or less, carries no negative consequence. Regardless of the size of the tract around your home, the desire to finish a particular project sometimes overrides all other considerations. And this urge to finish robs us of time better spent.

Recreation is a good thing. I think the word began as “re-creation”: the time needed to recharge, rebuild our strengths, and recover from the slings and arrows of the world. The hyphen was eventually removed and the long “e” morphed into a short one and, voila, recreation: fun stuff. (There is also, unfortunately, “wreckreation”: that’s when free time is fucked up by spending it with folks, or things, that offer no enjoyment whatsoever!)

Face it: your projects will never be completed. And even if a task can finally be considered complete, another chore rears its ugly head. That is a big part of the human condition and should be taken in stride. Well, if the list of to-do’s is endless, then let’s consider putting something off for the sake of our own mental stability. Lie on the grass and look at the sky. Scratch the dog. Hug your spouse. Something that means a hell of a lot more than many other issues that seem, incorrectly, more pressing.

Friends play a big part in the enjoyment of one’s free time. And time with friends sometimes entails tasks that may not be, in and of themselves, considered fun. But the rendering of assistance to someone who is similarly there-for-you is rewarding.

I have a good friend, Parry, who is moving into his new part-time residence on a nearby parcel. He and his wife were planning on doing this move by themselves and there were heavy pieces of furniture involved. Parry called and asked me if I knew someone he could hire to help him out. I told him that I was available, but he refused my offer on the grounds of not wanting to interrupt my day. “Wait a minute,” I told him. “Wouldn’t you help me move if I asked for your help?” “Of course I would,” he replied. Friendship is a two way street. It is important to be there for your friends, but give them the opportunity to be there for you, too. And yes, I arrived to help Parry and yes, he had already completed the move! (My revenge is the inclusion of his name in this column.) We’ve had our chat and I remain hopeful that he will allow me more chances in the future to be as good a friend to him as he is to me.

So do this for me: put your to-do list off to one side and spend the time with friends, family, or other diversions that truly lift your spirits. Whether that interval lasts a moment or the entire day, you’ll find every other demand on your time a little more bearable. And don’t believe for one minute that you’re a procrastinator. Some things are meant to be put off for a day, or two. Dying, for instance

The Status Quo

The dictionary defines “status quo” as the existing state of affairs. Few would argue that our “existing state of affairs” is far from desirable and many cry for reform in many areas. Health care and taxation currently head up that list, but despite these cries in the past, little has really changed. Why could that be if so many of us want major league changes in these areas? Good question.

If you look at our history, you can see other examples of a changing landscape in many facets of our society: transportation, communication, and the like. So why did the stage coach and telegraph go by the wayside without much resistance, but similarly archaic principles in our tax code and health care system continue to survive? One good reason, I’d say, is that our stagecoach drivers and telegraph operators did not employ lobbyists to represent their personal interests in the halls of power. Without such representation, these folks were destined to find new careers in completely new arenas. “Well good,” you say. “That’s progress and change is good!” Unless, of course, you’re the unfortunate soul faced with finding that theoretical new career.

Our current tax system relies on hordes of accountants, advisors, attorneys and such dedicated to the proposition that we, the taxpayers, are in dire need of their services to avoid paying one extra cent of tax. They take money from us and pass that money on to their creditors and family to maintain a particular life style. Just like each of us does in our chosen field of endeavor. Well, now that cash flow is threatened if a major change in our tax laws should become reality.

Let’s say, for instance, that we abolish the federal income tax altogether and replace it with a national sales tax. Personally, I like this idea: it’s simple, straightforward, and taxes each of us equally (percentage-wise) on the things we buy. It does not penalize saving nor the associated interest and dividends and, best of all, leaves no taxpayer’s stone unturned. Drug dealers, hookers, mobsters, and other ne’er-do-wells like to spend their ill gotten gains just like us law abiding consumers. But now they’re paying their taxes just like the rest of us rather than avoiding that possibility. And the plumber you pay under the table, in cash, to get a better deal? Sorry, that’ll go away, too, because the plumber’s got to ante up when he buys his latest toy.  A “pay as you spend” tax code that guarantees full participation and a given percentage of our nation’s buying power. Wow, what a concept, right?

Except for the fact a large segment of our wage earners are now left looking for a new career field. And these folks have lobbyists, unlike their ancestors, and will fight, hammer-and-tong, against any such sweeping proposal. And to make matters worse, many in this field are attorneys and attorneys make up the majority of Congress, so is it any wonder that there is major resistance to a change of this magnitude?

Health care is not much different. Legions exist within HMO’s and insurance companies and they all share one attribute: earning a paycheck. If we end up with some sort of universal care, where do these folks get their next dollar? Rather than spend energy on finding alternatives, it seems as though they’re more willing to spend money on lobbyists and their ilk to sabotage any significant changes.

And just about every other industry has their army of supporters ready and willing to resist any change that might upset the status quo. Energy independence? Prison reform? Mileage standards? Financial ethics? You name it: any noticeable change in the way business is conducted begins at the bottom of the food chain (you and me), not at the top.

We are currently embroiled in an economic downturn of epic proportion and there seems to be no better time to challenge the status quo and slowly turn our economic juggernaut in a whole new direction. This will require differing levels of discomfort within segments of our society and there will be collateral damage as job descriptions disappear, but society, as a whole, will be better served by this change, I’d say. We’ve railed for years, if not decades, for a better approach to many of our nation’s thornier problems. C’mon, folks, isn’t it time to put our money where our mouth has been? 

Bypass Procedures

Bypass procedures, anatomically speaking, are undertaken to provide a clearer path for blood flow by introducing a new route through which the blood may pass without obstruction. There are no side-effects (that I know of) and the patient is much better off after this procedure.

There is a similar “procedure” used infra-structurally and it refers to the construction of a new piece of highway by-passing a town in the name of more expedient travel from point A to point C by avoiding point B. This procedure does have side-effects and, despite those, may become much more common as Federal money begins to flow through the infrastructure pipeline.

I live between two areas involved with this bypass procedure. One, Sutter Creek/Amador City, had their bypass completed two years ago and the other, Angels Camp, is in the final construction phases of the road that will take folks around the inner, older center of town. Let’s take a look at Sutter Creek, explore the pros and cons, and try to predict the challenges awaiting Angels Camp and any other burg in America contemplating a similar procedure.

Sutter Creek has one main street, Highway 49, and this roadway was used to travel between Jackson (or points south) and Plymouth (or points north). Traffic included everything from mini-Coopers to log trucks and contributed mightily to a rather slow drive through the middle of town. Not coincidentally, the center of town is where various and sundry businesses chose to locate. Everything from food to antiques is available in this five block stretch, or so, and many a driver chose to stop and take a look at what treasures might exist. The bypass, while lowering the drive time between other communities to the north and south, also took the accidental tourist out of the retail mix for the businesses that had come to rely on that revenue source.

No one can argue that Sutter Creek is now a quieter, more user-friendly town. Crossing the main drag is easier than ever before and the community has regained a sense of self. These are good things, to be sure, but the commercial impact is not as clear cut. I spoke with several merchants in Sutter Creek while working on this column and the opinions were interesting and varied. Some said business was up while others contradicted that position. Some thought the bypass was a good thing, overall, while others continue to oppose the project. All agreed, however, that the new roadway was truly a double-edged sword and, while providing some boon, also carried with it a bane.

It became necessary to market the town and create a destination from what was a waypoint. This is not impossible, but it is costly. And it leads to new development in the form of resorts and the like. The thought that Sutter Creek would revert to an unchangeable small town was unrealistic and now new challenges present themselves to the townsfolk. The main challenge is that, while locals like their small town feel, they usually fail to consider patronizing their small town merchants in favor of big box stores lying closer to the bigger cities. So now the business owner has lost the accidental customer and still lacks business from neighbors. This is not a formula for success and sometimes leads to the “dying out” of a town. (Amador City was similarly challenged, but to a lesser degree due to its much smaller scale and associated number of merchants.)

The residents of Angels Camp are soon to experience the same dichotomy that Sutter Creek-ites went through. A quieter main street and less traffic, but also fewer customers, and less money. And, perhaps, fewer viable businesses. Like their neighbors to the north, a concerted effort must be made to reclassify the town as a destination unto itself. It is not an easy task nor is it cheap with a guarantee of success. But it is a very real side effect when traffic arteries are re-routed around commercial centers. And the same considerations apply where such bypasses are contemplated.

So do we say that the infrastructural bypass should be outlawed? That is best left up to those affected by the project. But being forewarned of the unintended consequences is, assuredly, to be forearmed. And should you have the opportunity to drop by Sutter Creek or Angels Camp, please do so. Both are steeped in history, architecture, and commercial enterprises offering unique buying opportunities. A bit more out of the way, but in this fast-paced, instant gratification oriented society, the “road less traveled” may provide the perfect respite.