Sunday, April 14, 2013

Jonathan Winters



















Jonathan Winters with Robin Williams on The Tonight Show

“If you were to ask me the funniest 25 people I’ve ever known, I’d say, ‘Here they are — Jonathan Winters’." - Jack Paar, host of The Tonight Show from 1957 to 1962

"As a kid, I always wanted to be lots of things," Winters said. "I was a Walter Mitty type. I wanted to be in the French Foreign Legion, a detective, a doctor, a test pilot with a scarf, a fisherman who hauled in a tremendous marlin after a 12-hour fight." - Jonathan Winters


Picture Legend
1. Mr Jonathan Winters
2. A very young Jonathan
3. One of his paintings
4. Jonathan with Eileen in 1969
5. Early nightclub ad
6. Early television appearance
7. "The Twilight Zone" with Jack Klugman
8. With Phil Silvers in "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World"
9. On "The Tonight Show" with Johnny Carson
10. With Robin Williams and Pam Dawber from "Mork and Mindy"
11. With the Duke
12. With Phyllis Diller
13. With Sarah Silverman
14. Grandpa Smurf
15. Star
16. At home


   My apologies for the scarcity of posts lately. This was and is due to technical difficulties... for example, I need a new computer. Right now everything on my monitor is tinted green, and other difficulties. This should be rectified, hopefully, Tuesday morning.
   Recent developments dictate that regular updates continue, such as the subject of this post, the passing of the much beloved comedian Jonathan Winters.
   I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank the lovely Mary and Karin of the AIA/LA (American Institute of Architects ( http://www.aialosangeles.org/ )) committee for giving me some nice cupcakes yesterday (and probably the tastiest hamburger I've ever eaten. "Uuuumm, now that's one tasty burger!").
   I was deeply saddened to discover the news of Mr. Winters' death, as I, throughout my life, always enjoyed every contact I ever had with him, either through television, or films, or the two times I saw him in public. He had always been there for me and countless millions, making people laugh, and for a little while forget their own problems. He certainly had a unique sense of humor, which consequently inspired other aspiring comedians, such as Robin Williams and Jim Carry. Not everybody could do what he could do. Take a look at this clip for instance:
   I suppose you could classify his style as improvisational, which many comedians and actors train at while learning their craft, but few can actually do, or at least as successfully as Jonathan.      The only amount of solace one can muster up at this time is to observe that he did have a long, and as far as I'm aware, very fulfilling life. He was 87 years old when he died.
   Jonathan Harshman Winters III (technically I could anoint myself Richard Ruprecht Joyce II, as my father's middle name was Richard... I guess not) was born at a very, very early age on November 11th, 1925, in Dayton, Ohio, home of industrially produced polonium for use in the triggers of early atomic bombs, including those dropped by the United States on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, thanks to our good friends at Monsanto. His mom, Alice Kilgore, would become a radio personality, the host of a women’s program on a local radio station in Springfield, where she and her son would eventually move, and his dad, Jonathan Harshman Winters II, was an investment banker, along with his grandfather, a frustrated comedian, who owned the Winters National Bank, which according to my sources (elves), is now part of JPMorgan Chase (figures).
   "Mother and Dad didn’t understand me; I didn’t understand them," he told Jim Lehrer on PBS' "The NewsHour With Jim Lehrer" in 1999. "So consequently it was a strange kind of arrangement." He would create characters and interview himself, while alone in his room.
   When the Great Depression hit in the 1930s, it hit the Winters' family hard. The bank failed, Jonathan's dad began drinking and his parents separated, Alice taking her son to live with her mom in Springfield. He was seven at the time. Alice would remarry and begin her radio career.
   Jonathan would quit high school during his senior year and enlist in the Marines (Jar Heads), due to that little conflict going on in Europe and the Pacific known as World War II. He served as a gunner on the aircraft carrier Bon Homme Richard in the Pacific (it seems a little odd to me that a Marine would do that on an aircraft carrier. Usually the Navy have their own people who do that kind of thing, but the elves tell me it's true).
   When the United States dropped those atomic bombs ending the war, Jonathan returned to Ohio and completed high school, and then entered the Kenyon College and the Dayton Art Institute, the goal being to become a political cartoonist. His interest in art remained with him for his entire life, as he painted throughout it. An example is posted above.
   He met the love of his life, Eileen Schauder, also an art student, in 1948, and married a month later, remaining married until she passed in January of 2009, about 61 years by my reckoning.
   The young couple struggled, Jonathan's cartoonist ambitions going nowhere. Some say, certainly not me, he owed his eventual success to a broken wristwatch that he couldn't afford to replace. Eileen urged him to enter a local talent contest, the grand prize being, as chance would have it, a brand new wristwatch. Jonathan won (of course), after which  he was hired as a morning disc jockey at WING, where he would invent his own guests, because he couldn't get any real ones, and he had the ability to play different characters who he would have conversations with, just as Phil Hendrie does today right here in L.A. ( http://philhendrieshow.com/ ).
   "I'd make up people like Dr. Hardbody of the Atomic Energy Commission, or an Englishman whose blimp had crash-landed in Dayton."
   In 1951 he got work at a Columbus television station, worked there for two years and a half years before quitting because his bosses wouldn't give him a raise, and made the decision to pack up and head off to New York with the idea of breaking into radio. He promised Eileen that if he didn't make it in a year he'd come back and sell farm equipment, and with $56.46 in his pocket he took off, living with friends in Greenwich Village, where all of the hippies lived.
   He broke into small parts in television instead of radio, and learned the craft of stand up comedy in nightclubs, a job that he found lucrative, that he was good at and suited for, at least as far as his talent was concerned, but he hated the long times away from home, and it would eventually take it's toll. In 1959 he suffered a nervous breakdown on stage in San Francisco and was hospitalized in a mental hospital briefly. Two years later it happened again, and soon he quit working nightclubs altogether. He has the distinction of being one of the first so-called celebrities to mention mental illness pertaining to himself, publicly as a part of his act.
   After acquiring an agent he soon began to get steady work. His earliest television appearance was in 1954 on "Chance of a Lifetime" hosted by Dennis James on the DuMont Television Network, where Jonathan appeared as "Johnny Winters." The show was a forerunner to "American Idol."
    His big break came when Alistair Cooke (who would later become the host of "Masterpiece Theater," on PBS) hired Jonathan to work with him on "Omnibus" an educational television series created by the Ford Foundation.
   Jonathan was a pioneer voice work actor, playing both voices for a pair of talking beer steins for Utica Club Beer, the first beer officially sold after Prohibition.
   In 1956, he stared on his own weekly TV variety series, "The Jonathan Winters Show" a fifteen minute program airing on NBC from October 1956 to June 1957. The program is notable for broadcasting the first public demonstration of color videotape. It was sponsored by Tums... yes, the antacid, it's been around since 1930.
   In 1961 Jonathan stepped out of type in a dramatic role playing "Fats" Brown, (a take off I suppose, of Jackie Gleason's  "Minnesota Fats" character in the film "The Hustler"), a ghostly pool player in "The Twilight Zone" episode "A Game of Pool" co-staring Jack Klugman, of "The Odd Couple," and "Qunicy, M.E." fame (Quincy being a forerunner of the CSI programs).
   Two years later he appeared with my mom in "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," along with a whole bunch of other people, including my very favorite American actor of all time, Spencer Tracy, in his second to last film.
   My mom you ask? Yes indeed. She was an extra in this scene from the film:
   Here's a scene featuring Jonathan:
   Jonathan appeared in more than 50 movies, appeared on 23 comedy albums, wrote a collection of short stories entitled "Winters Tales," and made one bazillion and twenty three television appearances, including "The Tonight Show," with both Jack Paar and Johnny Carson, "The Steve Allen Show," "Mork and Mindy," and "Davis Rules," for witch he won an Emmy for his supporting role. He also won the prestigious Mark Twain Prize for American Humor, which ain't no small thang.
   Unlike those he influenced, like Robin Williams and Jim Carry, success as a television host or recurring lead, or as a lead actor in films, eluded him. I believe this is due to his physicality, being an average looking, slightly rotund man, but I may be wrong. My God, Don Knotts and John Candy had successful film careers. Perhaps it was due to the fact that his popularity was due to his improvisational style of ad lib comedy, which in itself does not lend itself to the job of leading man roles in TV and films. Take that away from him and Jonathan was like a fish out of water, not being able to sustain himself as well as Williams and Carry have managed.
   Some have said that he was more influential than successful (which is actually more appealing to me... as Aqualung once said, "I didn't mind if they groomed me for success, yuck!"), but Jonathan did alright for himself and Eileen, his two children, Jonathan Winters IV, of Camarillo, CA, known as Jay, a contractor, and his daughter Lucinda, of Santa Barbara, CA, a talent scout for films, and his many grandchildren. He lived in Montecito for Christ's Sake! That's where Oprah lives.
   And that's where I saw him one time. I don't remember why I was there. I was living in nearby Carpinteria, but I did see him buying a bottle of wine in a grocery store in Montecito. He looked good and well.
   That was the last time I saw him. The first was on my turf, in North Hollywood, CA, at a location shoot for "The Andy Griffith Show," at a Little League baseball playing field when I was just a lad. I assume he was a guest on the show although it's not listed on his IMDB credits, but I believe he addressed the crowd at one point over a PA system. I don't remember why.
   After voicing Grandpa Smurf on "The Smurfs" (1986–89) and Papa Smurf in "The Smurfs" (2011 film), Jonathan's final feature film was "The Smurfs 2," this year, and which will be dedicated in his memory.
   He has his very own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in Hollywood. It's located at 6290 Hollywood Blvd., right at the famous intersection of Hollywood and Vine... where the hippies live.
   Robin Williams took the news of Jonathan's death hard and is currently on a mad drunken binge, but before he got started he managed to post this: "First he was my idol, then he was my mentor and amazing friend. I'll miss him huge. He was my Comedy Buddha. Long live the Buddha."
   Indeed.


On the Jack Paar Show
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sUO6-Byrel0


   Thanks goes to William Grimes of the New York Times, Wikipedia, the IMDB, the Internet, and the elves for source material.

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Monday, April 1, 2013

Happy Birthday Rachel Maddow!
























Rachel's Late Night Promos With Jimmy Fallon


Picture Legend
1. The Lovely Rachel Maddow
2. Yearbook picture
3. More long hair
4. High school basketball
5. 21 year old first out lesbian to be named Rhodes Scholar
6. Yard work
7. Susan and Rachel
8. Susan's "sic transit 05" (2008)
9. The house
10. The apartment (looks exactly like my place)
11. English Labrador
12. Herkimer
13. On the air
14. Keith Olbermann  
15. The Rachel Maddow Show
16. Rachel explains the intricacies of the Paul Ryan budget plan
17. Drift
18. Rachel dressed as Catwoman after a particularly harrowing Cocktail Moment
19. Rachel in "Inception" (notice she's the only one without a gun)
20. Taking pleasure in attacking sea creatures who had been minding their own business and just trying to get along
21. Enjoying some well deserved peanut brittle
22. Ms Rachel, my favorite picture... so far


   This morning it is my great pleasure and honor to give a great big happy birthday shout out to one of my true heros, television host, radio host, author, promoter of alcoholism, chef, Rhodes Scholar, liberal, political commentator, and landscaper, Dr Rachel Maddow.
   Yes it's true. She's an actual doctor, earning a Doctor of Philosophy (DPhil) in politics at Oxford University, just like I would have if I'd gone to school.
   Suck on that Chris Matthews!
   So if you ever come across Rachel please address her as Dr Maddow. She likes that.
   Oxford, by the way, is the oldest university in the English-speaking world, and the second-oldest surviving university in the world (the oldest existing, and continually operating educational institution in the world is the University of Karueein, founded in 859 AD in Fez, Morocco. The University of Bologna, Italy, was founded in 1088 and is the oldest one in Europe). Rachel didn't have a whole lot of money at the time so she got herself one of those Rhodes Scholarships, which on top of paying for her College fees and providing a monthly maintenance stipend to cover accommodation and living expenses, is also considered a very prestigious scholarship by many, including myself. It was named, oddly enough, after Cecil John Rhodes, who lived between 1853 and 1902, and who founded both the De Beers diamond company and the country of Rhodesia, which was also named after him, so he was like the Donald Trump and Tyler Perry of the 19th century, always naming things after himself.
     But all of this as exciting as it may be, has little to do with Rachel, so let's get back on track, shall we. Thanks.
   We've said happy birthday to Rachel before when she turned a young 37 right here:
   But that celebration was rather cursory. I must have been very busy at the time, or something, so we shall expand here when she's turning into a real old 40.
   Rachel was born as a very small female infant at a very early age in Castro Valley, California (37° 41′ 39″ N, 122° 5′ 11″ W), which lies on the eastern side of San Francisco Bay, south of Oakland, and is about 32 miles (51.499 kms) from where I was born in San Jose (37° 20′ 0″ N, 121° 54′ 0″ W), about 18 years earlier (I'm so old). It takes about 36 and a half minutes to drive between the two cities depending on the traffic.
   Castro Valley of course, is named after the famous Cuban communist revolutionary and mass murderer, Fidel Castro.
   Her dad, Robert B. "Bob" Maddow, is a former United States Air Force captain who resigned his commission the year before her birth and found civilian work as a lawyer for the East Bay Municipal Utility District. Her mother, Elaine Maddow, is a school program administrator, which is a very good thing to be. She has an older brother whose name is David.
   Her dad's father came from a Jewish family from Easter Europe (the original family surname being "Medwedof"), which may of may not include counties such as Moldovia, Belarus, Latvia, Estonia, and the Ukraine, among others. Her dad's mom was Dutch.
   Elaine originally is from Canada, and is of English, and good old Irish ancestry.
   She has described her family as being "very, very Catholic", and that she grew up in a community her mother has described as "very conservative."
   Rachel learned to read and developed an early interest in journalism, reading the daily newspaper when she was only 7 years old, then bothering her parents with questions about what she had just read, just like me.
   A few years later she attended Castro Valley High School, since it was so close and all, the only high school in the United States to offer Honors in American Sign Language. There she participated in sports, swimming, volleyball and basketball specifically. She has described herself as being "a cross between the jock and the antisocial girl" in high school. An injury to her shoulder led her to abandon her sports ambitions.
   Now that she had some free time she choose to volunteer at a local AIDS clinic.
   After graduating from Castro High Rachel attended nearby Stanford University, which is located in Stanford, California (37° 25′ 21″ N, 122° 9′ 55″ W), which lies on the southwestern side of San Francisco Bay, and is only about 20 miles from where I was born, and a little over 25 miles from where Rachel was born if you use Route 84 over the Dumbarton Bridge.
   Rachel studied and earned a degree in public policy at Stanford, which concerns the body of principles that underpin the operation of legal systems in each state. This addresses the social, moral and economic values that tie a society together, values that vary in different cultures and change over time... sort of.
   Upon graduation she was awarded the John Gardner (former Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare under President Johnson) Fellowship which encourages highly motivated graduating seniors to pursue careers in public service.
   While at Stanford Rachel outed herself as being gay before she told her parents who were notified of this by an anonymous letter. As Rachel has said, her conservative parents didn't take it very well.
   We all belive they're alright with it now.
   In 1994 Rachel was one of 32 Americans, 17 of them women, to be awarded that Rhodes Scholarship thing. Applicants are selected based on academic, athletic, and leadership achievements, and community service. Her work with organizations involved with gay and lesbian issues, AIDs and homelessness, I assume went a long way in getting her selected.
   Rachel believes she is the very first out lesbian to win the Rhodes. "I couldn't have made a case for myself if I had been closeted. So much of my political involvement is tied up in being a big dyke."
   She said it, not me.
   After graduating from Stanford, and before going off to Oxford, she won another fellowship (this is getting monotonous) at the AIDS Legal Referral Panel in San Francisco. Then off to Oxford... which is somewhere in England.
   Then she came back again.
      In 1999, while working on her dissertation, Rachel met the love of her life.
   Artist/Photographer Susan Mikula hired her to do some work on her property in the Berkshires  (picture above), which Rachel just loves to do. Upon seeing her Rachel described the meeting as love at first sight. They've been together ever since, and now live in a house in Western Massachusetts, and an apartment in Manhattan, the town where Rachel currently works (at 30 Rock).
   They have an English Labrador, which is a form of dog. A big one (what is it with lesbian progressive talk show hosts and huge dogs? Stephanie Miller, of "The Stephanie Miller Show," lives with two monster Great Pyrenees that are bigger than she is).
   I on the other hand have an invisible cat named Herkimer.
   The poor kids can't even afford a TV. You would think the host of the highest rated program on  a cable news network would be making some real money, but then again, these are hard times (thank you President Bush for that little FU present you left us just before leaving office we so lovingly call the Financial Crisis of 2007/2008).
   In 2001, she earned that Doctor of Philosophy in politics at Oxford University. Her thesis was titled "HIV/AIDS and Health Care Reform in British and American Prisons."
   Interesting.
   Way back in 2000 though Rachel took a break from landscaping and got started in radio after  winning a contest at WRNX (100.9 FM) in Holyoke, Massachusetts, held to find a new on-air personality. She was hired to co-host WRNX's morning show, "The Dave in the Morning Show." She co-hosted, presumably, with Dave. She went on to host Big Breakfast on WRSI, in Northampton, Massachusetts, for two years. She left the show in March of 2004 to join the new Air America which began broadcasting that month, and featured progressive talk programming. This is where I first became aware of her, as well as Randi Rhodes, and reacquainted with Al Franken, before he decided to run for the Senate. I in fact was listening in the very room where I'm typing this now, when Al finally made the choice and told his listeners.
   This was before I began Joyce's Take of course, before I had cable television even, because the building I live in wasn't wired for it yet. I have it now.
   I began my days listening to Stephanie in the morning, Al from 9 to noon, Ed Schultz and Randi, then Rachel, then Janeane Garofalo and Sam Seder on "The Majority Report," before having my own cocktail moment.
   I really enjoyed Rachel's program. She was smart, funny, informative. She told a story in such a way that most anyone could understand it, even me. I could tell she felt comfortable at the microphone. She quite often utilized a technique that I learned from Dr Carl Sagan, my mentor, so to speak, which was to began discussing a subject, either verbally or through the written word (for Sagan), with one subject, which in time would tangentially manifest into another, the subject that was the main focus of the article, chapter, or speech.
   It works for me. It worked for Sagan. And it works for Rachel almost every night.
   She reports on stories that no one else is reporting on, important stories that need to be reported, then asks her audience why is no one else (the mainstream media) reporting on them. And as far as I'm concerned she stands (5' 11" (1.80 m) head and shoulders above anyone... anyone, working in television news at this time.
   Rachel is very nice as well  She gets embarrassed rather easily, which I find charming. She has a great and at times bizarre sense of humor... just like me. She can be sarcastic, again just like me.
   No wonder I like her.
   But woe to the offending conservative or Republican (or democrat for that matter). She'll hone in on them like a smart bomb and tear them apart, bit by bit, like a pit bull with lockjaw... but nicely, and with a certain amount of respect.
   Most reporters, or hosts, or whatever, won't do that, afraid they'll lose access to the person they're questioning, or criticizing, in the future.
   Rachel doesn't seem to care, and is more concerned with discovering the truth than hurting someone's sensibilities.
   And she's not afraid to take on anybody. Watch her on "Meet the Press," when she's a guest and you'll see.
   "MSNBC host and ratings anchor Rachel Maddow is known for many things; her progressive politics, her intelligence, a unique-to-cable news storytelling style. Beyond those things, though, Rachel Maddow is known to abide by the third rule of Patrick Swayze's Road House character: be nice. Don't get me wrong, she's not the dippy, sunny kind of nice that gets you a spot on some breakfast news show. Rachel can deliver a withering assessment with the best of them, but she does it differently.
   Rachel Maddow doesn't sneer or rant, she builds a series of narrative dominoes, then knocks them down with a whisper. She's so even-tempered, she makes Barack Obama look like Frank Booth, as evidenced by her cool handling of Republican strategist Alex Castellanos awhile back. Faced with condescension that would have gotten most people in a slapping mood, Rachel was clearly unhappy with Castellanos, but she was nice. That niceness is one of the key reasons she counts many conservatives among her fans." -mediaite com
   I suppose this is the appropriate place to demonstrate Rachel's fury. I wrote this post last year:
Rachel Gets Pissed: The Veterans Jobs Bill  September 21, 2012
   Just about a week ago she got really pissed. She even said so herself:
Rachel Gets Pissed... again
   Potential offenders... don't screw around with us vets, or they'll be hell to pay... pure, sweet Rachel hell!
   Through her work in radio she garnered a national audience. She was well spoken and attractive, a true truth teller, and thus amenable towards television. In 2005 she became a regular panelist on MSNBC's "Tucker," hosted by conservative commentator Tucker Carlson. This led to other appearances on MSNBC and CNN, including David Gregory's "Race for the White House," as well as a frequent contributor to MSNBC's flagship program "Countdown," with Keith Olbermann.
   Keith asked her to substitute for him while he was on vacation, and in April of 2008 she did just that, feeling "nervous," she said. I guess I'd feel nervous too hosting my first cable television news show. Keith liked her work and asked her to host again the next month. That show was the highest rated news program among people aged 25 to 54, a key demographic in ratings.
   Olbermann pushed for Rachel to get her own show and eventually persuaded MSNBC president Phil Griffin to give it to her. The Rachel Maddow Show debuted on September 8, 2008.
   Keith created a monster, Rachel's show topping "Countdown"s ratings several times, and after a month or so, she managed to double the ratings for that hour (9 to 10 EST). "The Rachel Maddow Show," made her the first openly lesbian host of a prime-time news program in the United States. History had been made... again.
   The Rachel Maddow Show remains the highest ratings earner for MSNBC, and has occasionally topped the misinformation providers over at Fox so-called News.
   "I'm proud to be doing what I'm doing," she says.
   Her "greatest triumph" on air thus far? When the National Spelling Bee champ challenged her to spell a tricky word on air. "I nailed it!" says Rachel, laughing. "In this business we're all a little geeky. I just may be a little more proud about it than everybody else."
   Rachel is now an author, just like me, but she's a published one, with a book that people actually read!
   In March of last year "Drift: The Unmooring of American Military Power," was published, becoming a New York Times best seller.
   Drift documents the rise of America's military, with an emphasis on our president's increasing willingness and ability to take the nation into war, and the huge expenditures required to keep the said military operational, even when it isn't needed, like now for instance.  
   I highly recommend it. It is written with the wit, humor, intelligence and empathy, qualities we've come to expect from Ms Maddow.
   Here's a link to Drift's Amazon site. Please buy it immediately, if not sooner:
   Here's a link to a March 2009 appearance on "The View"  
   And lastly (but not leastly), Rachel has been known to enjoy a cocktail once in a while. She even has a segment, usually placed at the end of Friday's show before the network goes to prison, entitled "Cocktail Moment," wherein she shows us how to make various cocktails. Here's one concerning Irish Coffee:
   Uuummm, makes me want to drink again.
   And here's a link to Rachel's personal website, where's there's a picture of her manhandling her dog:
   And her story continues, I hope, for many, many good years to come.
   And all of us here at Joyce's Take wish her, Susan, their family and friends, continued good fortune and health, and of course a very happy birthday!
   Happy birthday Rachel!
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Saturday, March 30, 2013

Skid Row Diary 10









July 26  2003       Saturday  Day 14


   Well, I didn't go to Trimar yesterday and I needed some cash so I would have to go today, although riding around on a bus in the hot weather didn't appeal to me.
   Nothing appealed to me. Not even staying in my room and isolating.
   I slept through breakfast, and didn't leave the building until 9:30, the sign in deadline. I brought along the Rama book in my backpack so I could read and not have to think about anything.
   First I picked up a whole bunch of stuff at the 99 Cent Store. Beef stew, cheese ravioli, tamales, chile mac, all of that canned. 2 coffees, 4 teas, 3 audio cassette tapes, and 2 video. A bottle of jalapeno peppers, etc. My backpack was full and heavy as I left the store and waited at the bus stop for 165.
   It took its time in getting to me. I was a sweaty, limp puddle when it got to me.
   "Forrest Gump," had just began as I entered the plasma center. A film I had once owned and had seen 483 times, but which still affected me in different ways each time I saw it. Today I was interested in how the other characters in the film reacted and intermixed with Forrest, especially the Robin Wright character, Jenny. Tom Hanks was very lucky to work with such a great supporting cast.
   I must admit I got a little misty near the end... again. Tom Hanks breaks character a little bit during the grave seen and talks like Hanks rather than Forrest... just a little, but the scene is still very effective.
   It's embarrassing to be in a room filled with fellow derelicts having our blood sucked out of us and getting misty.
   Damn movie.
   My friend Aurica was busy working in another room and had no time for me today.
   I was ready to go when the film ended. My blood timed this perfectly.
   I purchased a Super Lotto ticket at the 7-11 across the street. I hadn't eaten all day so I also purchased a "green burrito" whatever that is. It wasn't green and looked like a regular burrito to me. I heated it in the microwave they had there, paid for it, took it outside to a shady spot to enjoy it, all the while looking out for the bus that would take me back to Van Nuys.
   I finished the burrito and was then thirsty. The bus hadn't arrived and was due. If I went inside the store to get a cold soda or something the bus would surely come and leave me there. So I waited some more.
   In the hot sun, the heat reflecting nicely off of the concrete sidewalk around me. I watched two buses come and leave going in the opposite direction.
   I waited some more.
   In the hot penetrating sun... sun of the mid-afternoon.
   I began to feel slightly sick from the green burrito I had just eaten.
   I waited and waited.
   At that point I waited some more.
   And then just a little bit more.
   And one more time I waited.
   The bus finally came... no two buses came, one right behind the other, which made no sense whatsoever. I got in the one that stopped  as the other leapfrogged ahead.
   Hot, tired, exhausted... drained of life giving plasma, I made it back to the Weingart by 4:00. I ate dinner then went to my room. I watched police chase dangerous criminals on Fox television. Then "The Hungry Cat Curse" episode of "The X-Files."
   At 8:00 I watched the most beautiful blonde woman in the history of the universe in a remake of "Mighty Joe Young," a big gorilla movie.
   Maybe I missed it, I was fairly busy, but I don't think any explanation was given for Joe's size. Gorilla's usually grow to 15 feet tall, do they? I mean the characters in the film thought his size was unusual too, except Ms Young, Joe's lifetime friend, but nobody asked why he was so big. Radiation like the giant ants in "Them!?" A glandular problem?
   Just one more thing I had to worry about.
   I went to sleep immediately after the movie was over, and dreamed I was dancing with Charlize Theron 10 years in the future at the Academy Awards.


July 27           Sunday    Day 15


   A wasted day for me. I felt down, and wondered what the hell was the matter with me. I can't last 2 weeks without back sliding into depression which initiates other useless behavior, which further depresses me.
   Why me? Why did I have to be like this?
   My mind is my own worst enemy. You have to be like something, I tell myself. Not everyone can be happy. We've been taught, conditioned since birth, that there is a good and bad way to live. If you want to have a good happy life all you have to do is conform, believe as everyone else does, value what everyone else values. Work hard, obey all laws, be patriotic, don't ask too many questions, have simple friendships, get married, have children, raise them to do exactly as you have done. Do all that you can to be happy and think your life has real meaning. When you die you'll have family and friends who will grieve and miss you for a week or two, then they'll forget you, except maybe on your birthday, and they will live their own lives until they die and are forgotten.
   What's the point? Might as well have remained a whiff of undifferentiated nothingness. As Kurt Vonnegut points out, "Watch out for life."
   My mind, my worst enemy, will kill me if I let it. Like a virus that kills it's host, it doesn't know what's good for it.
   I take arrogant pleasure in not being a conformist, by not valuing what most in my country values, what most of them cherish and believe, what makes most of them happy. My arrogant pleasure turns to dull pain readily. My conditioning makes me wish to conform, to be just like "normal people," who I suppose are all devastatingly serene, secure in their likeness, their greed, their love. My mind tells me correctly that there is no such thing as a "normal people." It is a fantasy, a fiction, perpetrated by those who don't wish to think about anything too much. To make the rest of us feel guilty for believing differently. There's no end to what my mind will do to kill me. It's very resourceful and elastic. Back and forth, over and over. Dumb mind. I don't know what to think anymore. Every course of action seems futile and no longer worth any effort. No thought is reassuring, no thoughts that aren't teaming with doubt and insecurity. What's the point? Always back to that question. What's the damn point of it all?
   Vonnegut also tells us the point of life is to be the eyes and ears of God. But Vonnegut, admittedly, is full of crap, and that he doesn't know what's really going on anymore than I do, or anyone else.
   Some people know how to be happy though. I know there's a few out there who are content.
   My mind tries to tell me that with all of the problems in the world, real problems... pain, poverty, suffering, indifference, famine, ignorance, over population, hate, impatience, that my little worries don't add up to a hill of beans.
   That's my mind trying to kill me again.
   And my mind tells me, on top of everything else, that I'm getting old. That I don't have very much time left to do anything significant. If Don Vose, my counselor at the Rancho Antonio Boys Home and self proclaimed mystic, has his way, I only have about 4 years left to live (he read my palm, so it must be true), the miserable son of a bitch.
   My mind's right on that one, I am getting old, but so is the universe. So is everyone else.
   So what to do? What to do?
   I watched a whole bunch of crappy movies, that's what.
   First, "Bloodsport," starring Kate Vernon, then "The Pennsylvania Miners Story," which oddly enough concerned some miners in Pennsylvania.
   After that, having switched channels to a Jackie Chan movie on channel 13, at 9:28, unbeknownst to me, Bob Hope died, not too far from where I was laying down on my rack. I wouldn't know about that until tomorrow afternoon when I was writing while listening to the radio. NPR to be exact, so my dreams tonight were not affected by his passing.
   Instead I dreamt I was in the middle of a vicious pillow fight with Kelly Bundy, from "Married with Children," Tiffany Malloy, from "Unhappily Ever After," and Chrissy Snow from "Three's Company."
   Hey, I have no control over this stuff. They're dreams.


July 28        Monday   Day 16


   Mr. Hope was one of those individuals who had been there, been around, off and on, for my entire life. He was already 53 when I was born, with most of his greatest work already behind him (yet with one more “Road” picture to be made 6 years later. Although he was not my favorite comedian of that era (Jack Benny has that distinction, Laruel and Hardy next)), I never the less enjoyed his work immensely, and looked forward to seeing him whenever I could. Most of the reason he held such a dear place in my heart was due to the work he did in the films he made before I was born, and later discovered via local television broadcasts. His many years of work in radio (a career in itself) was lost to me, and his many TV specials on NBC were not all that enjoyable. Born in London, he was an Angelino since the 30s, I would often see his Toluca Lake estate from the hills of Universal Studios.
   On the occasion of his 100th birthday, 2 months ago, several television specials had aired on NBC, and PBS, which I had watched, so I did have the opportunity, as did the country, to get reacquainted with him and his work, just before his passing it turns out. I had at one time quite a few of the films he made with Bing Crosby on video tape, but I’ve lost them, along with almost all of my other possessions, due to my erratic lifestyle.
   What a life he lived! What a good man he was, despite being a human being. I will miss knowing he was still alive.
   Gregory Peck, Katherine Hepburn, David Brinkley, Buddy Ebsen & Hackett, already gone to us this year.
   Now if we can only get rid of Rickles…
   I was writing in my room, the only part of the day not wasted, when I heard of Mr. Hope’s death. I was stunned, and couldn’t move for a moment or two.  He was old, yes… 100 is no joke, but to actually die… how rude. Very inconsiderate and selfish if you ask me. We needed him and he went away.
   I suppose he can be forgiven. He had earned a good rest.
   I wish his spirit well, although I don’t believe in spirits. I wish his family well, and indeed, and I really hate to say this but it’s apt and true, thank you for all of the memories. Not only your work, but for whatever I was doing when I watched it, and for the kind of life you led, for all the Christmas’s you spent away from home entertaining our troops, for all the laughs, all the jokes, for the kind of man you were. A true inspiration.
   And I was inspired. After the sadness, and after I started ruminating upon my own life once again, I didn’t exactly make a decision, that never works, but came to an understanding that it’s alright to be me, I don’t need to pretend to be anybody else. I only need to expect what is possible for me to do. That’s all. It still won’t be easy because I am capable of doing a lot of stuff, I know that about myself. But it will be better than trying to live continuously to what I am not, and could hardly be. I’ll never be an astronomer, rock star, great writer, male prostitute, billionaire, movie star or director. I am a good man with a good heart, which is enough. The only thing I’ve studied my entire life was literature, so I will continue to study and learn more about it, from other people, when I return to school, and not try as hard to learn about law, although I won’t give that up either.
   I felt like a big, huge, old weight had been taken from me, and I felt much better. I was happy. I smiled.
   I then took a break from writing and finished the “Rama Revealed,” book. The death of the protagonist, Nicole des Jardins and her husband, got me kind of misty. All of the characters in the novels, except Katie, were rather cartoonish, but still… we’d been through so much together.
   Later when I slept I dreamt I was on the road to Morocco with Dorothy Lamour.


July 29    Tuesday   Day 17


   I spoke to Larry yesterday, my new job developer. I went to our 10:00 appointment only to be told that he wasn’t there, and to come back at 1:00. I was told that he was at a meeting.
   I then walked to the One Stop to check  my Email. Nothing. No messages from John Manzano either. I called Mr. Porter at the Food Stamp Appeals office and was told I was liable for $403 in food stamps, even though I had never received them. I had expected this. I told Mr. Porter to cancel my hearing.
   When I saw Larry at 1:00 he faxed my resume off for a customer service job, and made an appointment for me to return Monday at 8:00.
   I began reading Stephen King’s “Everything’s Eventual,” today. A short story compilation. I read “1408,” a pretty scary one concerning a hotel room which was the home of a decidedly antisocial entity, that had killed 30 or so paying guests over the years. Technically, a difficult story to pull off… how can an empty room be a good antagonist? How can it be so deadly within such a short period of time? Half of the effect was in the well written set up prior to the room being visited, one quarter was what happened in the room itself, and the rest by the reader wondering what it was that was wrong with room 1408, which King wisely left a mystery.
    King said this story scared him when he wrote it. I have no doubt of it.
   I still did not get much accomplished today. I’m biding my time, getting ready to spring upon the world like a coiled cobra.
   I did buy today’s Times, and read for most of the afternoon about the life and career of Bob Hope.
   Gary Porch returned to us. He’d spent the last two weeks as a guest of the Orange County Sherriff’s Department, due to some warrant issue. Apparently he made a nuisance of himself while drunk, got arrested, gave the cops hell, and now must attend Army Substance Abuse Program (ASAP) meetings, and abide by all of the rules and regulations of the Weingart’s Veterans Program, or he goes back to the slammer for 6 months.  
   After dinner I took a little nap and had a dream in which I was interviewing  the  lovely actress Nikki Cox for the position of personal masseur.  As I was about to get a demonstration of her considerable talents giving massages, I woke up (damn it!).
   It was 7:00. Later I watched an interesting program on PBS about the possibilities of dramatic climate change due to volcanic explosions leading to tangential effects such as the rise of the plague which may have been a contributing factor in the fall of the Roman Empire.
   I say, why not.
   During the evening I began to develop a slight discomfort in my chest. It wasn't painful, more like a strange pressure, like a ball of gas had lodged itself just below my sternum. I didn't think anything about it at first, but it continued throughout the night making it rather difficult to sleep. I didn't sleep, in fact I was awake, reading, or watching television until after five.


July 30   Wednesday     Day 18


   I stopped reading and switched the TV back on at 3:37, to be rewarded with the beautiful visage of Marina Sirtis, yet making another guest appearance on "Star Trek, Voyager," with that "A Team" guy, Murdock.
   I watched until it ended at four, then turned the TV and light off and attempted to sleep. I felt tired, but sleep would not come to me. The weird feeling in my chest didn't help matters any. I wasn't having a heart attack, my pulse was slow and steady. No pain really, just the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right.
   I gave up on sleep, turned the lights back on and began reading the title story of King's book, but it became so bogged down in characterization that was not required, in my opinion, to carry the story along. I finally became so frustrated and tired that I finally drifted off at around 5:00, or so. Thank you Mr King. God bless you.
   I dreamt I was giving Mimi Rogers a massage she would not soon forget, for about 5 hours, until I woke up near 10:00. The pain, or rather the discomfort in my chest had disappeared.
   I thought about going to Trimar today. I silently talked myself out of it.
   I did see John Manzano at the front desk at lunch time. He didn't see me though, and I didn't say anything to him, thinking he'd stop by my room later. He never did.
   I spent a good portion of the day writing and listening to NPR. I also began re-reading Peter Straub's masterpiece "Ghost Story," whose title is misleading as it's actually a Gothic monster story... sort of. The quality of the writing, of expression is intimidating. "There was nothing that was not banal," instead of "everything was banal." Not bad for a guy who lives in New York.
   This is a genre novel, so the lack of humor can be forgiven I suppose. "The Haunting of Hill House," had few knee slappers within it. But I've never read a book of Straub's that was balanced, as Stephen King does so well (I still laugh every time I remember a line from "The Raft," when the protagonist was trying to fathom the origens of the aquatic oil slick creature that was hunting him... "Or maybe Arthur Godfrey pissed out some atomic bisquick..."
   Humor is always good... except at funerals.
   Unless it's Graham Chapman of Monty Python.
   John  Cleese delivered his eulogy:
   Graham Chapman, coauthor of the "Parrot Sketch", is no more. He has ceased to be. Bereft of life, he rests in peace. He's kicked the bucket, hopped the twig, bit the dust, snuffed it, breathed his last, and gone to meet the great Head of Light Entertainment in the sky. And I guess that we're all thinking how sad it is that a man of such talent, of such capability for kindness, of such unusual intelligence, should now so suddenly be spirited away at the age of only forty-eight, before he'd achieved many of the things of which he was capable, and before he'd had enough fun.
   Well, I feel that I should say: nonsense. Good riddance to him, the free loading bastard, I hope he fries. And the reason I feel I should say this is he would never forgive me if I didn't, if I threw away this glorious opportunity to shock you all on his behalf. Anything for him, but mindless good taste...
   But I digress.
   "The word 'blowupidness,' is a word that's been bandied about a lot lately," is another good line. I heard Homer Simpson come up with that one today.
   I watched an interesting PBS two hour documentary focusing on the Watergate fiasco of thirty years ago.
   It was a foolish mistake, and Nixon deserved impeachment, but I still like him. He was predictable, smart, profane, dedicated, a true political animal. He was a tad paranoid, but just because you're paranoid doesn't mean people aren't out to get you.
   Later, I watched a sort of debate between the man who began the Housing Authority, helping to get homeless people of the downtown area into affordable housing, and one of the developers in the area who are currently building and leasing high end lofts on the periphery of the skid row area, and who wishes to expand their jurisdiction, wishing to drive the homeless away, or make them disappear. The developer didn't understand why the homeless needed to be concentrated in one small area and wanted to farm them out to the San Fernando Valley and Santa Monica, and other such places.
   She didn't understand fully the homeless infrastructure that has developed downtown over the decades. Specifically the missions and other institutions that minister to the unfortunate people who inhabit this place, like the Union Rescue Mission, the Los Angeles Mission, the Midnight Mission, the Salvation Army's Harbor Light and Safe Harbor facilities, and the Weingart, where I find myself, and many others, all of which would be hard pressed to pick up and move to different locations.
   Of course the simpler question remains, why doesn't the developer go develop somewhere else?
   Because the city wants to get rid of it's homeless problem. LA would like nothing more than to sweep it's homeless under some big rug.
   I also watched an informative program concerning the author Gore Vidal, someone I admittedly didn't know very much about. I'd seen him in "Gattaca," of course. Who Hasn't? I feel I need to learn more about him and his work. Anybody who made William F Buckley threaten to punch them in the face bears further investigation.
   I went to sleep and dreamt that the lovely comedic actress Joanna Storm took me skinny dipping in the cement pond before we went frolicking in the forests of Mirkwood, trying to avoid the giant spiders that live there.
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Friday, March 29, 2013

Infrastructure









Hoover Dam

Rachel Maddow Thinking Big


   The Minnesota I-35 Bridge was an eight-lane, steel truss arch bridge that carried Interstate 35W across the Mississippi River in Minneapolis, Minnesota. 140,000 vehicles crossed the bridge daily. I use the verb was because the bridge, opened in 1967, collapsed at 6:05 p.m. CDT on Wednesday, August 1, 2007. It was during rush hour. The structure and deck collapsed into the Mississippi River and on to the riverbanks below, the south part toppling 81 feet eastward in the process. Approximately 100 vehicles were involved, sending their occupants and 18 construction workers up to 115 feet down to the river or onto its banks. Northern sections fell into a rail yard, landing on three unoccupied and stationary freight train cars. 13 people were killed and 145 injured.
   A possible design flaw in the bridge was discovered, related to large steel sheets called gusset plates which were used to connect girders together in the truss structure. The National Transportation Safety Board announced they had determined that the bridge's design specified steel gusset plates that were undersized and inadequate to support the intended load of the bridge, a load which had increased over time.
   On September 19, 2007 the Minnesota Department of Transportation announced that a replacement bridge would be built due the highway's function as a vital link for carrying commuters and truck freight.
   One year later, on September 18, 2008, at 5 A.M., The I-35W Saint Anthony Falls Bridge was opened to the public.
   But five years after the collapse, Andrew Hermann, the president of the American Society of Engineers, told ABC News that while the nation has an aggressive bridge inspection program, the government is still not spending enough money on updating and maintaining the nation's infrastructure.
   "Congress basically lacks the courage to do what is needed to raise the funds," he said. "Bridges require maintenance, and maintenance and rehabilitation require funding... Politicians like to show up and cut a ribbon on a brand new bridge, but they don't like to show up and applaud a new paint job that may increase the life of a bridge."
   As I've previously mentioned
   I like to stroll over the 6th Street Bridge, or technically Viaduct (meaning it is made of several components) almost every morning at around 5:30. It's certainly good exercise, and I tend to lose myself in self reflection while doing so. I mentally edit the posts of this blog while walking over the bridge, getting some pretty good new ideas, or ideas about rearranging the ideas I've already written so that they may work, or flow more smoothly.
   The only days I don't walk over the bridge is when it rains, or when it is closed, either due to some kind of bridge maintenance going on, or movie filming. Or when I'm too lazy.
   It takes approximately 22.5 minutes to leave the Las Americas, reach the beginning of the bridge at 6th and Mateo, and reach the eastern side at Whittier Bl. and S Boyle Ave. in Boyle Heights, and another approximately 22.5 minutes to get back. So it's a significant walk, and on the way back, heading west over the bridge, I'm treated to the view of the Los Angeles skyline as can be seen in the 4th picture above.
   The third picture above features our world famous Los Angeles River, which was once free flowing and was once a main water source for the city. However unpredictable and devastating floods continued to plague it well into the 1930s (the most notable one being the catastrophic 1938 flood that killed at least 115 people and precipitated the recall of then-mayor of Los Angeles Frank L. Shaw), leading to calls for flood control measures. The Army Corps of Engineers began an ambitious project of completely encasing the river bed and banks in concrete, with only a trickle of water usually flowing down its middle. Environmental groups and park advocates support the removal of the concrete and the restoration of natural vegetation and wildlife.
   My good friend Terry and I at times rode our bikes along the banks of concrete on the river when we were kids, exploring the huge storm drains that feed it. We would return home covered with mud head to toe.
   Giant 20 foot long ants live in the those storm drains:
   The 6th Street Bridge however supports no ants, and was built in 1932 (the largest concrete bridge in the state for the first 13 years after it was built). It is 3,446 feet long.
   "During the construction of the viaduct, an on-site plant was used to supply the concrete for construction. However, the quality of the concrete turned out to have a high alkali content and lead to an alkali-silica reaction which creates cracks in the concrete and saps the strength of the structure.
   Current estimates are that the viaduct has a 70% probability of collapse due to a major earthquake within 50 years." -http://blogdowntown.com/2007/01/2486-sixth-street-viaduct-has-cancer-suggested
   Indeed, every morning that I walk over the bridge I step across, or notice cracks in the concrete where I can actually see the Los Angeles River way down below me. There's one section of the north side railing somewhere near the middle of the expanse which is gone, with a wooden board bandaging the open space.
   And knowing Southern California's penchant for major earthquakes occuring during the early morning hours... well I was taking a big chance each day.
   The country as a whole has an infrastructure problem, the problem being we're not maintaining it. For the second time in a row, America’s infrastructure received a near-failing grade from the American Society of Civil Engineers (ASCE). They provide a report card, so to speak, grading the status of our nation's ability to maintain itself. The overall grade for the entire country now... D+. The good news, we're up from a D in 2009 (the study is updated every 4 years).
   Here's their report:
   Here's some highlights (complied by the lovely Beth Buczynski for Care 2):
 
   The average age of the 84,000 dams in the country is 52 years old. The nation’s dams are aging and the number of high-hazard dams is on the rise. The number of deficient dams is estimated at more than 4,000, which includes 2,000 deficient high-hazard dams.
 
   Much of our drinking water infrastructure is nearing the end of its useful life. There are an estimated 240,000 water main breaks per year in the United States. Assuming every pipe would need to be replaced, the cost over the coming decades could reach more than $1 trillion, according to the American Water Works Association (AWWA).

   Forty-two percent of America’s major urban highways remain congested, costing the economy an estimated $101 billion in wasted time and fuel annually.

   Over two hundred million trips are taken daily across deficient bridges in the nation’s 102 largest metropolitan regions. In total, one in nine of the nation’s bridges are rated as structurally deficient, while the average age of the nation’s 607,380 bridges is currently 42 years.

   The study evaluates 16 sectors that include things like solid waste, the power grid, drinking water, wastewater, and roads and bridges, then grades are given to each category according to certain criteria, such as; capacity, condition, funding, future need, operation and maintenance, public safety, resilience and innovation. Since 1998, the grades have consistently been near failing, averaging only Ds, due to delayed maintenance and under investment across most categories. The grades in 2013 ranged from a high of B- for solid waste to a low of D- for inland waterways and levees. Solid waste, drinking water, wastewater, roads, and bridges all saw incremental improvements, and rail jumped from a C- to a C+.
   ASCE President Gregory E. DiLoreto, P.E. calls the results "simply unacceptable."
   "Infrastructure can either be the engine for long-term economic growth and employment, or, it can jeopardize our nation’s standing if poor roads, deficient bridges, and failing waterways continue to hurt our economy," he said.
   Ms Buczynski points out that if the United States doesn’t find a way to  inject over $3 trillion into its own infrastructure in the next 7 years, the next report may read all F’s. And there is no extra credit in this class.
   This issue is fairly easy to understand. If you buy a new car and use it normally over the years, but neglect to change the oil, or put coolant in the radiator, and check the tires, preferring to spend your available cash in a state of the art stereo system and tinted windows, sooner or later you're going to break down, with repairs costing typically way more than preventive maintenance would have, and in the case of a tire blowing while traveling at high speeds, you may lose your very life.
   The same goes for our nation's infrastructure, it's bridges, railways, roads and highways, aqueducts, and energy grid, etc. If we don't spend the time and effort to maintain these vital entities that each and everyone of us use on a daily basis then they are doomed to fail.
   But the Republicans in Congress, especially the House of Representatives, are insisting on austerity measures while pursuing nonexistent spending and debt priorities. They are not willing to invest in the country and would rather see it fail while blaming the consequences of their inaction and mistaken prerogatives on President Obama. They don't care how many people die as a direct result of their ideology and hatred. They wish to keep pumping money into a bloated and inefficient  Defense Department, and continue corporate welfare, giving away billions of your taxpayer dollars to the very same oil companies that are gouging you at the gas pump.
   And sadly, all too often, the Democrats allow them to do it.
   In 1933, during the height of the Great Depression, Franklin Delano Roosevelt as part of the New Deal,  created the Public Works Administration (PWA), a large-scale public works construction agency. It built large-scale public works such as dams, bridges, hospitals, and schools. Its goals were to spend $3.3 billion ($57.75 billion 2012 dollars) in the first year, and $6 billion ($105 billion 2012 dollars) in all, to provide employment, stabilize purchasing power, and help revive the economy.
   Let me repeat that. To provide employment, stabilize purchasing power, and help revive the economy. I believe the nation could use some of that today.
  In 1935 the Works Progress Administration (WPA) was created. It was the largest and most ambitious New Deal agency, employing millions of unemployed people (mostly unskilled men) to carry out public works projects, including the construction of public buildings and roads. It employed 3.3 million workers in 1938 (peak), and provided almost 8 million jobs between 1935 and 1943. Almost every community in the United States had a new park, bridge or school constructed by the WPA. It's initial appropriation in 1935 was for $4.9 billion (about 6.7 percent of the 1935 GDP, and about $80.9 billion 2012 dollars), and in total it spent $13.4 billion ($209 billion 2012 dollars). It tried to provide one paid job for all families in which the breadwinner suffered long-term unemployment.
   "The direct focus of the WPA projects changed with need. In 1935 priority projects were to improve infrastructure; roads, extension of electricity to rural areas, water conservation, sanitation and flood control. In 1936, as outlined in that year’s Emergency Relief Appropriations Act, public facilities became a focus; parks and associated facilities, public buildings, utilities, airports, and transportation projects were funded. The following year, saw the introduction of agricultural improvements, such as the production of marl fertilizer and the eradication of fungus pests. As the Second World War approached, and then eventually began, WPA projects became increasingly defense related." -Wikipedia
   Hoover Dam cost $165 million (other sources say $175... about $2.79 billion to $2.96 billion 2012 dollars) to build and was completed in four and a half years, between 1931 and 1936. First power was produced in October 1936, more than two years ahead of schedule. A total of 4.4 million yards of concrete were used in its construction. The powerhouse used 17 generators in 10 acres of floor space to produce over 4 billion kilowatt-hours of electricity for California, Nevada, and Arizona. Who paid for the dam? The federal government. The federal government paid for it during the worst economic crisis this country has ever faced.
   And it has paid for itself. Residential and industrial users of electricity have been paying back the government $5.4 million a year at 3% interest over the last 50 years as part of their monthly utility bills.
   "Through the sale of power and water, a major portion of the money used to construct Reclamation projects is returned to the Federal Treasury. Hoover Dam's approximate $175 million cost was repaid over a 50-year period, with interest. Hoover Dam and power plant revenues from the sale of water and power have repaid approximately $260 million, including interest, to the Federal Treasury, principally from 50-year power contracts that ended May 31, 1987. Several contingencies, including $25 million allocated to flood control, will be repaid with interest over the 30-year contract period which began June 1, 1987."
http://www.desertusa.com/colorado/lm_nra/hoover/du_hoover.html
   Economists Paul Krugman, Robert Riech, Victoria Grant, and myself (a non-economist) all believe the nation needs to spend more money to stimulate the economy and increase employment. A lot of Democrats and even the president himself believes this as well, or has indicated he does. Yet the Republicans stated mission and goals are just the opposite, to restrict spending without increases in revenue (taxes, and closure of tax loopholes and subsidies), which have a predictable outcome. The country's economy continues to be depressed and unemployment remains high. The Republicans in Congress are just fine with this. Why shouldn't they be? They already have jobs.
   As for the 6th Street Bridge, the city’s Bureau of Engineering considered building a replica or a simple viaduct before switching gears and announcing a major design competition. The 5th picture above depicts the design that won that competition.
   Paid for mostly by federal highway money, with a smattering of state and Measure R funding, construction of the new bridge is hoped to begin in early 2015 and the new bridge is expected to open in 2019.
http://6stbrp.nationbuilder.com/
   Those expectations were formulated before the Republicans allowed the sequestration process to initiate. Let's hope that the federal highway money mentioned above is still available.
   Because I'm looking forward to a nice, safe walk in 2019 on that shiny new bridge.


Using Pension Funds to Build Infrastructure and Put Americans to Work
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