Happy Birthday Heather Graham!

Heather, track and field, single payer, & yoga, all in 30 seconds

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ju8LZkkQgGM

 Picture legend:

1. Ms. Heather
2. Young Ms. Heather
3. "License to Drive"
4. As ex-nun Annie Blackburn turned waitress in "Twin Peaks"
5. With James Woods in "Diggstown"
6. As Rollergirl in "Boogie Nights"
7. As Dr. Judy Robinson in "Lost in Space"
8. As Felicity Shagwell in "Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me"
9. With Johnny Depp in "In Hell"
10. An early favorite picture
11. In "Anger Management"
12. As Dr. Molly Clock in "Scrubs"
13. As stripper Jade in "The Hangover"
14. Another favorite picture... I don't know why.
15. With "The Hangover" boys.
16. Meditation... and Yoga with Heather and Beth Dian Prandini
17. Heather again!

   This morning it is my distinct honor and privilege to give a great big Joyce's Take happy birthday shout out to one of my favorite actresses and activists, and with whom I seem to have a great deal in common, Ms Heather Graham!

   Heather Joan Graham was born as a small female infant at a very early age in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where Laverne De Fazio & Shirley Feeney used to live, and where people drink beer all day. She is the eldest of two sisters, Aimee Graham, another actress, being her younger sibling. Her dad, James was an agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and her mom, Joan, is a teacher and author of children's books. The family, like me, is of Irish ancestry, which of course means their family came from Ireland, which is a beautiful island country west of Great Britain, where all the pommies live. James is 100% Irish, just like me. Joan's dad was 100% Irish, but her mom, Heather's grandmother, was of Scottish and German descent, so Ms Graham describes herself as being 3/4 Irish.

    Apparently the family may own some property in County Cork, in the south of Ireland, where those freaking Leprechauns live, the wily bastards!

   Like many of Irish descent, Heather's family was Catholic, and observed traditional Catholic values, which means the girls could have no fun whatsoever.

   Due to her dad's job the family moved around quite a bit, but eventually settled down in nearby Agoura Hills, California (34° 9′ 12″ N, 118° 45′ 42″ W), when she was 9, and where poor George C. Scott died (or Westlake Village, which is right next to Agoura Hills. He's buried in Westwood, right next to Walter Matthau... and Jack Lemon's nearby too!).

   Despite being somewhat shy (I was shy too! See how much we have in common! We're both not shy anymore as well) Heather developed an early interest in acting participating in a school production of The Wizard of Oz, and was eventually voted "Most Talented" by her Agoura High School class. However dad wasn't particularly keen on having his daughter, eventually both daughters) enter into the decadent acting profession, which created a certain tension within the family. Still Joan obligingly drove Heather to auditions in Hollywood throughout her adolescence.

   As a teenager Ms. Graham worked at Toys R' Us and as an usher at The Hollywood Bowl. I never did either of those things.

   At age 14 Heather got her first appearance on film as a factory girl in an uncredited roll in the film, "Mrs. Soffel," starring Mel Gibson and Diane Keaton. Two years later she appeared on a special "Teen Week" episode of the NBC-TV game show "Scrabble," and the next year she got her first credited role in the television film, "Student Exchange," along with Gavin MacLeod and Moon Unit Zappa.

   Being so pretty and all (for a girl), Heather modeled (contract with Emanuel Ungaro Liberte) and did commercials. She auditioned for the Jennifer Grey role in Dirty Dancing in 1987, which I'm sure made her dad real happy. In fact, the next year she was forced to turn down the lead role in "Heathers," because her parents thought the language was too risque (the part instead went to Winona Ryder, whose parents didn't mind how much she trash talked).

   Ms Graham graduated High School in 1988,  after which she enrolled in extension classes at the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA) and studied English and drama for two years, but dropped out to pursue acting full time, again, much to her parents objections.

   She continued acting throughout those years, getting a big break and some critical recognition in 1988's "License to Drive," as Corey Haim's love interest. This part got her a a Young Artist Award nomination in the Best Young Actress in a Motion Picture Comedy or Fantasy category. The same year she also had an uncredited appearance as Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwarzenegger's mother in "Twins" (Jeeez).

   The very next year Heather got what some consider her breakthrough role, as a drug addicted friend to Matt Dillon and Kelly Lynch, in Gus Van Sant's "Drugstore Cowboy," which was about a lot of cowboys who lived in pharmacies. Her performance earned her a nomination for the Independent Spirit Award for Best Supporting Actress.

   In 1990 Ms Graham appeared in Lawrence Kasdan's "I Love You to Death," with 3 more of my favorite ladies, Tracey Ullman, Phoebe Cates, and Victoria Jackson (before she became a right wing lunatic), and 1991's "Shout," staring John Travolta and Gwyneth Paltrow in her first film appearance. Heather received a nomination for the Young Artist Award for Best Actress Starring in a Motion Picture for her performance.

   After co-starring with ("Traffic"s) Benicio Del Toro (who was also in "License to Drive") in a Calvin Klein commercial directed by David Lynch, he cast her as former nun Annie Blackburn in his idiosyncratic television series "Twin Peaks." Following that show's cancellation, Lynch had Heather reprise the role in the 1992 prequel film "Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me." This show's cast included several of my favorite actresses. As a matter of fact this show's cast could be considered a virtual hot-bed of my favorite actresses, including Sheryl Lee, Lara Flynn Boyle,  Moira Kelly, Alicia Witt, Phoebe Augustine, and Sherilyn Fenn (who I recently saw blow herself up in an episode of "NCIS").

   Lynch also introduced Heather to Transcendental Meditation, a mantra (sound, syllable, word, or group of words) form of meditation I do not adhere to. I like my meditation silent, like my women.

   In 1992 she appeared with James Woods and Louis Gossett, Jr. in the boxing con-game film "Diggstown," and with Will Smith in 93's "Six Degrees of Separation." That year she  also appeared with a pre-Gandolf Ian McKellen in "The Ballad of Little Jo."

   A few years later Heather came to my attention, as well as a whole bunch of others, in Paul Thomas Anderson's 1997 critically acclaimed, "Boogie Nights," which was loosely based  on the John Holmes southern California porn industry story. Heather played porn actress Rollergirl for her penchant for wearing roller skates all the time. She initially auditioned for Julianne Moore's part but that went to Julianne Moore instead. The film also starred real life veteran porn actresses Nina Hartley.

   Here's a clip with Julianne.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XWyZj6er5Q

   Ms Graham's role did require a certain amount of nudity, which her willingness to go along with caused a huge riff with her parents. They may not be speaking still. "I don't really like to talk about my parents. Because I just feel that it gets misinterpreted in the press, and stuff..." she says.

   Heather has gone on to star in such high-profile films as, "Lost in Space," with Mimi Rogers, "Bowfinger," with Steve Martin, "Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me," with Will Farrell ("Those are skin tight. How do you get in those pants, baby?" "You can start by buying me a drink.")) Here's two clips:  American Woman in "The Spy Who Shagged Me"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vS1WnWjxfsk

And with Burt Bacharach & Elvis Costello (son of Lou)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vS1WnWjxfsk  ), and "From Hell," in 2001, with that Johnny Depp fellow, as well as a whole bunch of other fine films and TV shows. She was so busy she had to turn down the Teri Polo role in "Meet the Parents," and the Shannon Elizabeth role in "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back."

   Speaking of 2001, on September 11th, Ms. Graham was due to move in an apartment she had bought in Manhattan. "I was flying into New York that morning from the Toronto Film Festival. I'd bought an apartment in Manhattan and I was due to move in that day. We were flying towards New York when I could see this huge black cloud over the city. The first plane had hit the Twin Towers but nobody knew what was happening at that stage. We landed and I was in the baggage-claim area when the second plane hit the towers. There was general panic. After going through something like that, you never take anything for granted again."

   Soon after that all flights across the country were grounded... except those taking the family of Osama bin Laden out of the country.

   In 2003 she appeared with Adam Sandler and Jack Nicholson in "Anger Management." Here's a clip:

Anger Management

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdoLNHJjLTc

   She was given special guest-star status on nine episodes of NBC's "Scrubs," during its fourth season (2004–2005). Here's two very funny clips:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q8HqUfM1dZY

and

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VH7_H05aeiY

   And now Heather has and will be in the entire "The Hangover" franchise, I, II, and III. Here's an Irish interview with her discussing the first film:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-BDBoWTt6Qo

   She enjoys yoga in Mexico (so do Beth and I!) and cooking (so do I!) and playing poker (me too! Boy, if she were only a couple of years younger I'd be after her myself)

   She is a public advocate for Children International, as I am ( http://joycestake.blogspot.com/2012/09/meivelyn-noemi-cacao-mendoza-children.html ), although I'm sure she's a  lot better at it than I am.

    "You are helping a child have a better life. It's great for that child to know that someone who lives in another country cares about them."

   Indeed.

   Heather has never married or had children, although she has had romances with actors Edward Burns, Heath Ledger, James Woods, Matt Dillon, Josh Lucas, Kyle MacLachlan, Leonardo DiCaprio, Elias Koteas, Benicio Del Toro, Russell Crowe, Scott Speedman, Rufus Sewell, Matthew Perry, and every other actor she's ever worked with, musicians Adam Ant, Elijah Allman, and Jason Falkner, directors Stephen Hopkins, Chris Weitz, and Yaniv Raz, former president Bill Clinton, nightclub owner Charles Ferri, theoretical physicist and cosmologist, Stephen Hawking, and the starboard watch of the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln.

   Wow, reminds me of Liz Taylor.

   Anyway, all of us here at Joyce's Take wish Heather and her friends and family (those she's still talking too at least) continued good fortune and health, and of course, a very happy birthday!

   Happy Birthday Heather!

Two Views on the Fiscal Cliff

"You can always count on Americans to do the right thing—after they’ve tried everything else," -Winston Churchill

   Last night as I was battling my computer (trying to make it work), I flipped my television's channel over to MSNBC and discovered that the Republican controlled House of Representatives had passed the Senate's bill to avert the most harsh effects of the so-called Fiscal Cliff. The measure, brought to the House floor less than 24 hours after its passage in the Senate, was approved 257 to 167, with 85 Republicans joining 172 Democrats in voting to allow income taxes to rise for the first time in two decades, in this case for the highest-earning Americans. Voting no were 151 Republicans and 16 Democrats.

   Now all that has to be done is for the President to sign it. As the picture above indicates it looks as if he will be happy to do so.

   As I predicted we did go over the Cliff officially at one second after midnight yesterday. What the House's action accomplishes is to help calm national and international markets, letting them know we aren't completely crazy, and allowing important items such as the Farm Bill to pass, so we all don't have to start paying $8 for a gallon of milk.

   The social security payroll tax holiday was not extended, so workers will see their pay checks shrink to a certain extent, but that was never meant to be a permanent cut anyway, and which was basically robbing Social Security of its rightful income. 

   As it is the Bush Tax cuts will remain in place for 98% of Americans, with those making more than $450,000 having to pay more. I would have liked to have seen that income limit lower, say $250,000 as the President first proposed, but during negotiations, concessions do have to be made, and considering all that was on the table, I can live with what was put through (as if I had a choice).

   Below is two view points on this matter by my two favorite economists, former Labor Secretary, Robert Reich, and Nobel prize winner Paul Krugmam:

Lousy Deal on the Edge of the Cliff, Robert Reich   December 31, 2012

   The deal emerging from the Senate is a lousy one. Let me count the ways:

   1. Republicans haven’t conceded anything on the debt ceiling, so over the next two months – as the Treasury runs out of tricks to avoid a default – Republicans are likely to do exactly what they did before, which is to hold their votes on raising the ceiling hostage to major cuts in programs for the poor and in Medicare and Social Security.

   2. The deal makes tax cuts for the rich permanent (extending the Bush tax cuts for incomes up to $400,000 if filing singly and $450,000 if jointly) while extending refundable tax credits for the poor (child tax credit, enlarged EITC, and tuition tax credit) for only five years. There’s absolutely no justification for this asymmetry.

   3. It doesn’t get nearly enough revenue from the wealthiest 2 percent — only $600 billion over the next decade, which is half of what the President called for, and a small fraction of the White House’s goal of more than $4 trillion in deficit reduction. That means more of the burden of tax hikes and spending cuts in future years will fall on the middle class and the poor.

   4. It continues to exempt the first $5 million of inherited wealth from the estate tax (the exemption used to be $1 million). This is a huge gift to the heirs of the wealthy, perpetuating family dynasties of the idle rich.

   Yes, the deal finally gets Republicans to accept a tax increase on the wealthy, but this is an inside-the-Beltway symbolic victory. If anyone believes this will make the GOP more amenable to future tax increases, they don’t know how rabidly extremist the GOP has become.

   The deal also extends unemployment insurance for more than 2 million long-term unemployed. That’s important.

   But I can’t help believe the President could have done better than this. After all, public opinion is overwhelmingly on his side. Republicans would have been blamed had no deal been achieved.

   More importantly, the fiscal cliff is on the President’s side as well. If we go over it, he and the Democrats in the next Congress that starts later this week can quickly offer legislation that grants a middle-class tax cut and restores most military spending. Even rabid Republicans would be hard-pressed not to sign on.

Perspective on the Deal, Paul Krugman   January 1, 2013

   To make sense of what just happened, we need to ask what is really at stake, and how much difference the budget deal makes in the larger picture.

   So, what are the two sides really fighting about? Surely the answer is, the future of the welfare state. Progressives want to maintain the achievements of the New Deal and the Great Society, and also implement and improve Obamacare so that we become a normal advanced country that guarantees essential health care to all its citizens. The right wants to roll the clock back to 1930, if not to the 19th century.

   There are two ways progressives can lose this fight. One is direct defeat on the question of social insurance, with Congress actually voting to privatize and eventually phase out key programs — or with Democratic politicians themselves giving away their political birthright in the name of a mess of pottage Grand Bargain. The other is for conservatives to successfully starve the beast — to drive revenue so low through tax cuts that the social insurance programs can’t be sustained.

   The good news for progressives is that danger #1 has been averted, at least so far — and not without a lot of anxiety first. Romney lost, so nothing like the Ryan plan is on the table until President Santorum takes office, or something. Meanwhile, in 2011 Obama was willing to raise the Medicare age, in 2012 to cut Social Security benefits; but luckily the extremists of the right scuttled both deals. There are no cuts in benefits in this deal.

   The bad news is that the deal falls short on making up for the revenue lost due to the Bush tax cuts. Here, though, it’s important to put the numbers in perspective. Obama wasn’t going to let all the Bush tax cuts go away in any case; only the high-end cuts were on the table. Getting all of those ended would have yielded something like $800 billion; he actually got around $600 billion. How big a difference does that make?

   Well, the CBO estimates cumulative potential GDP over the next decade at $208 trillion.So the difference between what Obama got and what he arguably should have gotten is around 0.1 percent of potential GDP. That’s not crucial, to say the least.

   And on the principle of the thing, you could say that Democrats held their ground on the essentials — no cuts in benefits — while Republicans have just voted for a tax increase for the first time in decades.

   So why the bad taste in progressives’ mouths? It has less to do with where Obama ended up than with how he got there. He kept drawing lines in the sand, then erasing them and retreating to a new position. And his evident desire to have a deal before hitting the essentially innocuous fiscal cliff bodes very badly for the confrontation looming in a few weeks over the debt ceiling.

   If Obama stands his ground in that confrontation, this deal won’t look bad in retrospect. If he doesn’t, yesterday will be seen as the day he began throwing away his presidency and the hopes of everyone who supported him.


The Ongoing War: The Battle Over the Debt Ceiling,     Robert Reich   January 2, 2013

   "It's not all I would have liked," says Republican Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, speaking of the deal on the fiscal cliff, "so on to the debt ceiling."

   The battle over the fiscal cliff was only a prelude to the coming battle over raising the debt ceiling - a battle that will likely continue through early March, when the Treasury runs out of tricks to avoid a default on the nation's debt.

   The White House's and Democrats' single biggest failure in the cliff negotiations was not getting Republicans' agreement to raise the debt ceiling.

   The last time the debt ceiling had to be raised, in 2011, Republicans demanded major cuts in programs for the poor as well as Medicare and Social Security.

   They got some concessions from the White House but didn't get what they wanted - which led us to the fiscal cliff.

   So we've come full circle.

   On it goes, battle after battle in what seems an unending war that began with the election of Tea-Party Republicans in November, 2010.

   Don't be fooled. This war was never over the federal budget deficit.

   In fact, federal deficits are dropping as a percent of the total economy.

   For the fiscal year ending in September 2009, the deficit was 10.1 percent of the gross domestic product, the value of all goods and services produced in America. In 2010, it was 9 percent. In 2011, 8.7 percent. In the 2012 fiscal year, it was down to 7 percent.

   The deficit ballooned in 2009 because of the Great Recession. It knocked so many people out of work that tax revenues dropped to the lowest share of the economy in over sixty years. (The Bush tax cuts on the rich also reduced revenues.) The recession also boosted government spending on a stimulus program and on safety nets like unemployment insurance and food stamps.

   But as the nation slowly emerges from recession, more people are employed - generating more tax revenues, and requiring less spending on safety nets and stimulus. That's why the deficit is shrinking.

   Yes, deficits are projected to rise again in coming years as a percent of GDP. But that's mainly due to the rising costs of health care, along with aging baby boomers who are expected to need more medical treatment.

   Health care already consumes 18 percent of the total economy and almost a quarter of the federal budget (mostly in Medicare and Medicaid).

   So if the ongoing war between Republicans and Democrats was really over those future budget deficits, you might expect Republicans and Democrats to be focusing on ways to hold down future healthcare costs.

   They might be debating how to make the cost controls in the Affordable Care Act more effective, for example, or the merits of moving to a more efficient single-payer system, as every other advanced country has done.

   But they're not debating this, because the federal deficit is not what this war is about.

   It's about the size of government. Tea-Party Republicans (and other congressional Republicans worried about a Tea-Party challenge in their next primary) want the government to be much smaller.

   "My goal," says conservative guru Grover Norquist, "is to cut government in half in twenty-five years, to get it down to the size where we can drown it in the bathtub."

   What's behind this zeal to shrink government? It's not that the U.S. government has suddenly become larger. In fact, non-military government spending relative to the size of the U.S. economy remains the smallest of any other rich nation.

   Apart from the military, Medicare and Social Security account for almost everything else the federal government does - and these programs continue to be hugely popular, as Republicans learn every time they threaten them.

   The animus toward government has more to do with the growing frustrations of many Americans that they're not getting ahead no matter how hard they work.

   Government is an easy scapegoat, utilized by much of corporate America to convince average Americans to cut taxes, spending, and regulations - and divert attention from record-high corporate profits and concentration of income and wealth at the top.

   The median wage continues to drop, adjusted for inflation, even though the economy is growing. And the share of the economy going to wages rather than to profits is the smallest on record.

Increasingly it's looked like the game is rigged, especially when people see government bailing out Wall Street (the Tea Party movement grew out of the bailout, as did the Occupiers), and handing out corporate welfare to big agriculture, big pharma, oil companies, and the insurance industry, to name but a few of the recipients.

   The outrage grows when average working people are told - falsely - that a growing portion of Americans don't pay taxes and live off government handouts.

   The battle over the fiscal cliff is over, but the trench warfare will continue.

The Dustbowl

Henry Fonda

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XcZcsJwhRYY

The Dustbowl

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2CiDaUYr90

Dust Bowl - Pete Bernhard

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAQsGdcLl4c

"Wherever they's a fight so hungry people can eat, I'll be there. Wherever they's a cop beatin' up a guy, I’ll be there. If Casy knowed, why, I’ll be in the way guys yell when they’re mad an'—I’ll be in the way kids laugh when they’re hungry n’ they know supper's ready. An’ when our folks eat the stuff they raise an' live in the houses they build—why, I’ll be there."

― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

   Have you ever read "The Grapes of Wrath?"

   The 1940 movie starring Henry Fonda was pretty good too.

   In the interests of full disclosure I have to admit John Steinbeck is my favorite author, however "The Grapes of Wrath," is not my favorite novel of his. "Cannery Row," is, although I admire Steinbeck's Dustbowl saga very much, and may read it again someday... if I feel the urge to depress my self silly.

   I don't even know what the title means, if it means anything at all. Here's the line it came from: "...and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage." WTF does that mean? No, please tell me, I really want to know.

   Of course he could have simply stolen it from the "Battle Hymn of the Republic":

    "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:

    He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored"

   But I don't know what that means either.

   Julia Ward Howe, the author of the Hymn may have contrived "grapes of wrath," from a biblical reference, but the meaning, again, if there is one, just gets murkier and murkier.

   "The Grapes of Wrath" sure sounds good though. Just like "Of Mice and Men," which at least has something to do with that story's plot.

   Anyway, "The Grapes of Wrath," concerns the story of the Joad family, Oklahoma tenant farmers who grew cotton on their land until the drought of the Dustbowl made it impossible to grow their crops, which made it impossible to make the money needed to pay the bank for the use of the land and their home. Consequently, the family is evicted and they load up the family truck with  their possessions and head off to... here, in California. The land of milk and honey, or at least that's what they've been told.

   A lot of other people and families have been told the same thing, and the Joads join the largest migration in the history of the nation (for time of the duration).

   This isn't fiction. Although the story of the Joad family is fictionalized, what happened to them in the book happened to hundreds of thousands of Americans. Families and migrants left farms in Oklahoma, Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, Texas, Colorado, and New Mexico, left their homes, either being forced out by the banks, like the Joads, or by the fact that they couldn't make a living anymore because of the prolonged drought, or because they didn't want to die of a disease endemic for the time and area... pneumonia... dust pneumonia, pneumonia contracted from inhaling dirt.

   The Great Plains cover parts of the states of Colorado, Kansas, Montana, Nebraska, New Mexico, North Dakota, Oklahoma, South Dakota, Texas, and Wyoming, and the Canadian provinces of Alberta, Manitoba and Saskatchewan. The Dustbowl area, centered around the Oklahoma panhandle, (in the past referred to as No Man's Land) is semiarid, receiving less than 20 inches of rain annually; this rainfall supports the shortgrass prairie that had been present in the area for hundreds of thousands of years, and which is suitably adapted to the region. This area also alternates between drought and extended unusual wetness, with each duration lasting at times, for many years. Wind speeds are often very high because the land is... well, flat.

   Humans have inhabited the plains for at least 10,000 years without any problems. They were Indians, and made their living hunting the animals that lived there, like bison.

   After the Civil War (American) cattlemen settled in the area, the shortgrass was well suited for grazing. The Homestead Act of 1862 brought settlers by the thousands, and farming was introduced to the area.  Overgrazing and a series of hard winters beginning in 1886 led to more land being cultivated. At the beginning of the 1900s the weather turned wet, and farmers increased their efforts believing erroneously that the weather would stay wet. When the United States entered World War I in 1917, prices for wheat skyrocketed, which further provided incentives for farmers to increase cultivation. The area of farmland doubled between 1900 and 1920, and land under cultivation more than tripled between 1925 and 1930.

   Agricultural technology was not standing still during this period. Gas driven tractors replaced horses as a means to plow the land, which allowed this preparation to be done faster and over greater areas. This virtually eliminated the native shortgrasses which held the soil in place and helped retain moisture, even during the long dry periods.

   And then the weather wasn't wet anymore. A drought, a dry period, a period without much rain, began in 1930 and lasted for the next ten years.

   1930. Hey, that was the year after the stock market crashed in October of 1929, signaling the beginning of The Great Depression, the worst economic crisis that nation has ever faced. That lasted until the U.S. entered World War II, in 1942.

   Both of these occurrences happening at the same time spelled big trouble for the farmers of the plains.

   The Depression caused wheat prices to fall, and the government requested farmers grow less crops. Framers responding by growing more, or trying to, as they reasoned if the price is lower the more I grow the more money I'll make. When prices were high their response was to grow more as well. Always the answer for the farmers was to grow more and more.

   The land didn't like that. The topsoil had became friable, which means reduced to a powdery consistency in many places, and without the shortgrasses in place, the high winds that commonly occurred over the plains created massive duststorms that marked the beginning of the Dust Bowl period.

   On November 11, 1933, strong winds stripped the dry topsoil off of the farmlands of South Dakota. On May 9, 1934, a strong, two-day dust storm removed massive amounts of Great Plains topsoil in one of the worst storms of the Dust Bowl. The clouds of dust blew all the way to the east coast, dropping 12 million pounds of Oklahoma dirt on Chicago. The same storm reached Buffalo, Boston, Cleveland, New York City, and Washington, D.C. Red snow fell on New England. Much of the soil ended up deposited in the Atlantic Ocean.

   What became known as Black Sunday occurred on April 14th, 1935. The day began clear and beautiful, with no wind at all. The people of the plains took trips outside to enjoy the lovely weather. A funeral was to be held for a woman who had died from dust pneumonia. Children played.

   But it was not to be. Winds swept down from Canada, picking up topsoil along the way. The storm hit the eastern Oklahoma panhandle and northwestern Oklahoma first, and moved south for the remainder of the day. The clouds stretched 200 miles wide and 2 miles high. It turned day into night. Witnesses reported they could not see five feet in front of them at certain points. It is estimated to have displaced 300 million tons of topsoil from the Plains area.

   It was one of the worst dust storms in American history and it caused immense damage economically and to agriculture.

"On the 14th day of April of 1935,

There struck the worst of dust storms that ever filled the sky.

You could see that dust storm comin', the cloud looked deathlike black,

And through our mighty nation, it left a dreadful track.

From Oklahoma City to the Arizona line,

Dakota and Nebraska to the lazy Rio Grande,

It fell across our city like a curtain of black rolled down,

We thought it was our judgement, we thought it was our doom" --Woody Guthrie,  "Great Dust Storm"

   In a New Republic article, Avis D. Carlson wrote:

   "People caught in their own yards grope for the doorstep. Cars come to a standstill, for no light in the world can penetrate that swirling murk…. The nightmare is deepest during the storms. But on the occasional bright day and the usual gray day we cannot shake from it. We live with the dust, eat it, sleep with it, watch it strip us of possessions and the hope of possessions."

   These were the big ones. Smaller ones happened often, with just as devastating consequences.

   The Dust Bowl affected 100,000,000 acres, 156,250 square miles , an area larger than the entire state of Montana, and a little smaller than California, centered on the panhandles of Texas and Oklahoma, and adjacent parts of New Mexico, Colorado, and Kansas.

   Can you imagine living in the middle of that? During the Great Depression?

   There was literally no end in sight.

   So people left. A lot of them here to California, where I'm ashamed to say they were not treated as best as they could have been. The Depression was affecting Californians as well, and a sudden and steady influx of migrants, no matter where they came from, were not exactly welcome.

   The folksinger and song writer, Woody Guthrie was one of those who moved. He left his wife Mary behind in Texas while moving to California to find work, joining thousands of others fleeing from the Dustbowl. Many of his songs are concerned with the conditions faced by those people. Guthrie found work here in L.A., gaining fame at local radio station KFVD. He soon made enough money to send for his family (he even got together with John Steinbeck, introduced by Grandpa Walton, Will Geer). Many were not as fortunate.

   So how did the Dustbowl end? Why isn't the dirt still blowing today?

   The dirt would have ran out by now, for one thing.

   Also, much to the disgust of the modern Tea party, the only entity large enough, and powerful enough to deal with the crisis, if it indeed could be dealt with, was the federal government.

   The farmers tended to be strong, independent men and women, reluctant to ask or receive help from outsiders. But their back was against the wall. They had no choice but to get help.

   Success was in no way assured. Several techniques and programs were initiated.

   "President Roosevelt ordered the Civilian Conservation Corps to plant a huge belt of more than 200 million trees from Canada to Abilene, Texas to break the wind, hold water in the soil, and hold the soil itself in place. The administration also began to educate farmers on soil conservation and antierosion techniques, including crop rotation, strip farming, contour plowing, terracing, and other improved farming practices. In 1937, the federal government began an aggressive campaign to encourage Dust Bowlers to adopt planting and plowing methods that conserved the soil. The government paid the reluctant farmers a dollar an acre to practice one of the new methods. By 1938, the massive conservation effort had reduced the amount of blowing soil by 65%. Nevertheless, the land failed to yield a decent living. In the fall of 1939, after nearly a decade of dirt and dust, the nearly decade-long drought ended, as regular rainfall finally returned to the region." --Wikipedia

   Within a few years, many of the farms had returned to normal. But the droughts had taken their toll. A large fraction of the families who chose to stay in the Dustbowl area received some of the first rural relief ever given out by the federal government. By the end of the drought, the government had awarded at least $1 billion (at 1930s value) in relief.

   Many of these techniques to end the Dustbowl are still in practice today, as they should be. There's still soil that can blow away, although not as much.

   But why do we care now? Why am I writing about something that happened 80 years ago?

   Because of human nature. It was shortsighted longing for short term profits that caused the Dustbowl, although the motivation to feed one's families was an honorable one.

   But that steadfast tendency toward shortsightedness remains.

   Even after the most debilitating effects of the Dustbowl had been mitigated by use of the techniques above, some farmers returned the deep plowing and torturing of the earthy soil in order to maximize their crop yields, and therefore profits. They forgot or choose to ignore what had caused their own downfall. Who knows what they were thinking. Maybe they thought that most others are using the new ways to farm the land, so if refuse to use them I'll get away with it, or who knows? The wind didn't stop for them though, and the dust began to blow again.

   But not as bad as before. Most of the farmers were using the new soil saving techniques. Another reason was simply that the federal government had purchased large areas of land that were allowed to return to their original, pristine nature.

   But this says something about us. Take global warming for instance. We have people like the Koch brothers, and the oil industry, and the politicians in Congress that they control, who only  see making money in the short term as the responsible course of action, at the expense of the entire planet, which in actuality is the most irresponsible path that anyone can take!

   We have the ability to look forward. We have the ability to learn from our past mistakes. I don't hear Republicans, or Charles and David Koch make fun of engineers who retrofit or design buildings that can withstand earthquakes that aren't happening in the present, but will surely occur in the future. We know they will come, so we take action to lessen the damage and loss of life that will happen.

   But Rick, we know earthquakes are real. We don't know that about global warming.

  Oh yes, yes, we do. The only people who deny the overwhelming scientific evidence showing that global warming is real are those who profit from denying it, like the Koch brothers, and the oil and gas industry, and those they hire to discredit the science involved.
 Irresponsible Stewardship
http://readersupportednews.org/opinion2/271-38/15318-the-year-we-did-our-best-to-abandon-the-natural-world

   There are too many lessons that we, as responsible stewards of the present, can and must  learn from ourselves as we faced the Dustbowl, that we owe to those who will come in the future.  

Lessons from The Dust Bowl with Ken Burns

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9GkNQa5of8

This song is Copyrighted in U.S., under Seal of Copyright #154085, for a period of 28 years, and anybody caught singin' it without our permission, will be mighty good friends of ourn, cause we don't give a dern. Publish it. Write it. Sing it. Swing to it. Yodel it. We wrote it, that's all we wanted to do."

Written by Guthrie in the late 1930s on a songbook distributed to listeners of his L.A. radio show "Woody and Lefty Lou" who wanted the words to his recordings.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaI5IRuS2aE


http://www.care2.com/causes/bill-could-prevent-farmers-from-needlessly-destroying-prairies.html

Skid Row Diary 8

July 21   2003      Monday   Day 9   

   Next, the "frustrating implied angel who won't say what he really is," episode of the "Outer Limits." I mean you watch for an hour, until 1:00AM, and you at least want to find out what you've been watching! Not this, "I've already told you all you need to know. The answer is within you," crap.

   The original "Outer Limits" never did that! The writer's of the new "Outer Limits," might think they're being clever, but it's actually old, tired, and boring.

   Enough.

   I turned the television off and the radio on to Frank Sontag's "Impact," program that was just beginning it's second hour. I listened while drifting off to sleep again. Frankie was in a mood, fairly argumentative with his callers, the subject of conversation still being recent events in Iraq, and the Bush administration's handling of it.

   I fell asleep, trying to get back to Janeane and Uma, but they had gone home. Instead I was transported to just east of Ayres Rock in the Australian outback. It was dark, and sitting around a hastily made campfire were Laura San Giacomo and Linda Kozlowski.

   Both beautiful and talented actresses, Laura, star of "Sex, Lies, and Video Tape," "Pretty Woman." and "Quigley Down Under," Linda of the Crocodile Dundee saga. Laura was dressed in white shorts and a kind of reddish, orange top with white sleeves, while Linda wore a black cocktail dress with a white top. Wild dingos circled the fire, hungry and ready to pounce.

   "Here Laura, wear my coat. You must be cold," I told her. I was wearing a nice coat.

   She took it gratefully. "Thanks Ricky." She smiled at me.

   "Those dingos are getting closer," Linda pointed out, "and we only have three bullets left in the gun." She was holding a six shoot revolver.

   "What are we going to do?!" both ladies cried, looking at me for salvation.

   "No worries, ladies," I told them, filled with self assurance. "We'll just open up a few of these cans of 'Dingo Food,' here, and give it to them. That should keep them busy."

   Fortunately I had my can opener with me. I fed the dingos, and the girls and I huddled near the fire throughout the night to keep warm. I told them ghost stories.

   I woke around 3:00AM to Frank's arguing with a caller, still discussing Iraq. The caller was telling Frank about how much more he knew of the subject than Frank did, calling Frank a "young man," making it sound like an insult. Frank cut him off, saying he would have none of this condescending crap on his show, "especially tonight, old man!" Frank let the guy continue his argument anyway.

    I went back to sleep, rejoining Laura and Linda.

    I stayed with them until well after sunrise. We were happy. The dingos were happy. Everyone was happy...then Mark and Brian took me away from them.

   They were both talking about the British Open, which was not surprising, them being old geezers and all.

   Especially Brian.

    I kid them, but I do it with love... geez bastards.

    It was 7:00AM. I got up and showered. A black guy was just leaving the shower room as I entered. “The water’s just warm,” he told me. That too was not surprising for this late in the day. I was surprised the water wasn’t ice cold.

    Another black guy, the guy who stole my red soap dish, came in just as I was leaving. He had my soap dish with him, and I would have taken it back, but didn’t want to get into an altercation and get thrown out of the Weingart over it. The Weingart does not allow physical altercations between residents within the building’s perimeter, among other things. I let it go and returned to my room.

    Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs and bacon. I gave my bacon away to yet another black guy. In this place whites and Hispanics are a minority. I don’t believe any Asians live here, which is interesting.

    Giselle was wearing pants yet again. That makes three days in a row now. This is getting out of hand. I’ve written the producers before concerning this difficulty. Don’t make me do it again Giselle.

    Fortunately, Desperita America weather lady, Jackie Guerrido, and my case worker, Labren Marshall, were wearing lovely short dresses.

    I’m so sick. Please help me.

    I saw Labren when I was in the lobby at the pay phone trying to get through to the food stamp people in Sacramento. After navigating my way through several automated systems, I was abruptly, automatically, told that all operators were too busy with other callers and for me to call back later.

    I was aghast! I decided to take their advice and call back at another time.

    Labren had just walked by headed for the day room. I asked her if she knew the password for the new computer.

    “You can’t have it yet,” she told me.

    I knew better than to ask why. The computer, given to us without the password, was an obvious attempt to test our sanity. I would have none of it and returned to my room.

    Kelly Gates, Mark and Brian’s lovely newslady, didn’t make it back from Vegas in time to get to work today. Her replacement, the lovely and virtuous Diane, stated that Cyndi Lauper would be on the show today. I waited around and listened until 9:00, but Cyndi never showed up.

    Where are you Cyndi? Are you with John Manzano?

     I had my 10:30 appointment for testing at LACC. I arrived 30 minutes early and waited on the steps of the library until called inside for the test. I began to read from Wurther until I realized that watching the students, mostly young kids, walk around, was much more interesting.

     At 10:30 we were called into the testing room. Myself and about 20 others.

     I only needed to take the math assessment test, which centered on algebra. I could of saved the testers and myself a whole lot of time by telling them I didn’t remember a thing from high school algebra, however it took only 10 minutes to prove my ignorance. The test consisted of 12 questions, and I had to guess the answers for each and every one. I was politely told that I was eligible for the pre-algebra class, Math 112, which I would need to take to prepare me for a real algebra class.

    And what the hell do I need algebra for anyway?! I didn’t need it in high school, I don’t need it now. I can’t think of one instance where algebra was imperative to maintaining my health and well being.

    I hate algebra.

    Oh well, we shall see.

     The next step in the matriculation process was to be counseled. Lord knows I could use it. However, I was told that I could not be properly counseled without the transcript I was waiting for from PCC. There was nothing for me to do but return to downtown to check my mail.

    The lovely Miss Tran had mailed a letter to me reminding me I was to be evaluated on August 5th at 1:00PM. She left a message on my voice mail as well, asking for my zip code so she could mail the evaluation letter to me.

    I think she just wants to get together with me, the poor, lonely girl. Little does she know that I am not on the market. I will have to let her down gently.

    I called her back and got her voice mail. I gave her my zip code so she could use it on the letter she had already sent to me.

    I was good and just used the computer at One Stop to look for a job. The thought occurred to me that if I kept this up I might actually find a job, which was unsettling. I’ve worked long and hard, abandoning personal and professional relationships, family life, children, to continue to be downwordly mobile. And just as I’ve nearly touched the bottom, and see the end to what I’ve strove toward all of these years, I may have to give it all up and rejoin the race of rats.

    Near 2:30 I left the One Stop, stopping at the indoor mall at 6th and Los Angeles to purchase a purple, 1 and 1/2“ tall, plastic Buddha figurine I’ve had my eye on for quite a while. I also bought a VHS copy of “Brother, Where Art Thou?” for $5, from a rather small Hispanic girl.

    John Manzano came up to me as I approached the entrance of the Weingart. He said that he hadn’t ditched me. He said that he had to take care of some personal business, needing to go away for a little while.

     Whatever. I’m not his mom. He said he’d be up to see me later, and I went to my room.

     I called the food stamp people who put me on hold for a half hour before letting me know my food stamp hearing had been scheduled for next week, the 29th, at 10:20AM precisely, at some address on Wilshire.

     “Why haven’t I received a notice of this?” I asked. “It’s almost a prerequisite for showing up.”

     My food stamp person didn’t know why.

     Chile dog for dinner. Hall and Oats on Charlie Rose. John Manzano came in at this point and started to give me hell for watching Hall and Oats on Charlie Rose instead of a sitcom that would entertain him.

    “What do you get out of this?” he asked. He didn’t really want an answer. He just wanted to bitch.

     I changed the channel to “Seinfeld,” his favorite, but it had been preempted by a Dodger game. I put the Simpsons on instead, and began reading the “Criminal Law Handbook,” about talking to police.

     This bored John, so he soon left, saying he’d see me tomorrow.

    “Until that time, John,” I said to him. “Until that time.”

    The Whistler was out there tonight, roaming the halls... whistling.

     I continued reading while watching the History Detectives attempt to authenticate a dirk that may have belonged to Napoleon Bonaparte. I kept thinking about John Manzano. He was acting strange, and not a little bit odd. Was he worried about his kids? What could I do as his friend to help him? I didn’t come up with any answers.

     I got disgusted with the reception on my television while trying to tune into “Everybody Loves Raymond,” and turned off the set.

     I read an Amnesty International newsletter noting the 8 year anniversary of the massacre of up to 10,000 Bosnian men and boys in the aftermath of Serbrenica. 17,000 people in Bosnia-Herzegovina are still recorded as missing as a result of the strife.

   The letter also denounced President Bush's Patriot Act, noting that 6 detainees have been held without charge or trial. Amnesty International considers this to be a step back for human rights in the United States war against terrorism, "that will further undermine the U.S.'s claims to be a courageous champion of the rule of law."

   I put the newsletter away and went to sleep. Classical music pervaded throughout my little room.

   I dreamt I was in a log cabin in Alaska with Janine Turner, the gorgeous and talented star of "Northern Exposure." She was wearing a full length skirt and blue print blouse. I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with the words "Amnesty International" printed on the front. We were sitting in front of her fireplace and I was telling her of the benefits of becoming a member of Amnesty. She was very enthusiastic and receptive, and I got her to sign up for 3 years, after which we both went moose riding, off, off, into the vast sunset, never to be seen again.

July 22    Tuesday     Day 10

   I heard on the radio yesterday that some government or consumer agency advocated for the county's mental health resources to be proactive and help people rather than just medicate them. 

   I'm at least a day or two ahead of my time.

   Janine left me at about 2:00AM, saying she had to fly someone to Anchorage. I immediately entered into a nightmare. In it I was on a mission to rescue some people in a haunted land where strange, evil, creatures dwelt. A "Hellraiser" labyrinth landscape. I needed to get to a certain location, a mausoleum within a cemetery, where several paths led to several doors. I choose to leave my place of relative safety when there appeared to be no activity about, nothing moving within the shadows which might... treat me. I zipped along one of the concrete paths toward the house, a pillared, four story affair, a mansion really, made of stone and marble, but with wooden doors. I did not run, but carefully walked, looking about as I made my way. Nothing appeared, nothing made noise, but I knew something was out there, possibly watching. Finally I made it to the closest door. It was open, and I quickly entered. The people I was to rescue were there waiting. A family it looked like. A man, woman, and three children. My blood turned to ice as I heard an insane cackling from outside, from where I had just walked with impunity, and which now may be closed off to me forever. I opened the wooden door to look out into the night, and caught a quick glimpse, a glimmer, which quickly disappeared, what looked like a crazed man, except it had no eyes, and it's smile, it's smile was a perpetual grin filled with sharp, jagged teeth, it's arms as long as it's legs, naked, and doing backward cartwheels until it bounded out of my field of vision.

   I closed the door and locked it in five different places. I took several short breaths, wondering if the door would hold if attacked. Still, there was nothing else I could do about it. I was quickly running out of options.

   I froze as I heard giggling behind me, then slowly turned around. My skin crawled as my gaze fell on the man, woman, and children, that were no longer a man, woman, and children. Their eyes were gone and they grinned at me with jagged, sharp, stinking teeth. They began to move toward me, but my exit was blocked.

   Fortunately Bernadette Peters, the beautiful, sexy, and immensely talented star of stage and screen, popped in through a side door I had not seen, and beckoned to me.

   "Ricky! This way! Hurry or your dog chow!" she yelled.

   I followed her through the door and we were magically transported to her hotel in Atlantic City where she sang show songs to me for the rest of the evening, wearing the dress she wore on the cover of Playboy.

   I woke with a start. J.S. Bach's Rollerball Toccata and Fugue in D minor was playing on the radio. "Voyager," was just beginning. It was 3:00AM.

   I walked to the restroom and washed the flop sweat off of my face and upper, well muscled torso. I returned to my room and watched the rest of the "Borg attacks Borg dreamland," episode... Part 1.

   Mmm.... there was some "triaxelating modulation" going on in this one. Very exciting.

   I did yoga and other exercises during the second half of the show, and showered after.

   I wrote and wrote while listening to more classical. At 5:10 I meditated for 400 breaths. Mark and Brian kept talking about how hot Kobe Bryant's wife is, since they got a good look at her after the basketball star declared his innocence on national television last Friday, after being accused of sexually assaulting a 19 year old girl in Colorado. How could her cheat on her, they wondered.

   Personally I have no idea.

   Giselle was wearing a nice dress today. So was my lovely case manager.

   I wish I could find "Local Lente" (the Hispanic "Candid Camera") on my television schedule (according to Univision it is still being produced and aired) so I could be reunited with Odalys.

   Perhaps it is not meant to be.

   I had a good breakfast, eating with John Manzano. Grilled cheese. We discussed what he was going to do about getting custody of his two boys. He was going to make some calls today, to some social agencies, he told me. He believes his children are being abused by his ex-wife and her new boyfriend. I spoke to him about what to say to the police if they were to ever get involved.

   After breakfast I walked to the One Stop, passing the Flower Market on Maple. I was the first at the computers today. I immediately printed up some private files of mine which had absolutely nothing to do with getting a job. No messages on my voice mail. I received two confirmations on my Email that my resume had been received by Health Net and Paralyzed Veterans' of America. I then looked through the "Outer Limits" archives site to find Kate Vernon and Jessica Lundy, then pbs.org to The History Detectives to find the name of my favorite history detective.

   My work done I walked to the Red Line station on 7th which had been restored to its Los Angelesness, after Spidy had finished with it.

   On to Trimar.

   I picked up some more tea and coffee at the 99 Cent Store, as well as a can of Beef-A-Roni, tuna, and mixed vegetables. Two cans of chicken noodle soup. A jar of sliced jalapeno peppers, lemon cookies, a blank VHS tape, and two 60 minute audio tapes.

   I would record music on these two tapes later.

   A fairly decent Bruce Willis movie was on at Trimar, "Tears of the Sun." I'd never seen it before, and besides the pretentious title, it was very good. I like any movie that brings up human rights violations throughout the world, in this case Nigeria during a civil war, while ethnic cleansing was put into use. And I like pretty much any movie with Monica Bellucci in it. I don't know why.

   My friend Aurica unstuck me today. I asked about her family and everyone seemed to be healthy and fit, even the little baby. Very good. She asked me if I was going to the movies after I left, and I told her, no, that tonight I would be seeing a play.

   I ate a nice turkey salami sandwich I had brought while waiting for the bus to take me back. It had sliced jalapeno peppers in it.

   No problems getting back downtown. I read from Wurthers love letters.

   At the 7th St. station, as I was riding up one of the escalators, I heard a female say this, "Excuse me," from just behind me. I turned around to see a pretty blonde lady looking up at me. "Do you know where Grand Street is," she asked furtively.

   She was wearing sunglasses, and dressed in blue jeans and a beige blouse. She resembled my last girlfriend, Julie Laughlin, who is truly beautiful, caring and kind, smart and funny, and who I love to this day, almost too well, and I had to take a closer look to make sure it really wasn't her. This girl was a little younger though, in her late twenties, and had Hispanic features. Her long hair was very blonde, and I don't see many Hispanic ladies with blonde hair. She resembled a cross between a Hispanic and Norwegian.

   Now I just happened to know where Grand Street was, so I said, "Why yes! I know where it is."

   I took her up to the street.

   "I have to get to the county doctor's office. Do you know where that is," she asked.

   "The county's doctors office? Do you mean the county hospital?"

   "No, the county's doctor's office," she insisted.

   "No," I answered. "I don't think I do." I didn't.

   "Do you see that red signal light over there," I continued.

   Very uncertain, she looked for a moment, then nodded. Yes, she saw it.

   "Well, that's Grand Avenue," thinking that would be the end of it.

   But she continued to stand there as if not knowing what to do.

   "You don't know which way I go to get to the doctor's office?" she asked.

   Jesus!

   I didn't, but I said, "Let's go over and take a look."

   "Okay," she said.

   We walked the block over to Grand.

   At about the half way point she said, "Thank you very much for helping me."

   "Ah, it's no problem," I assured her.

   "Nobody seems to want to help around here," she said.

   I looked at her. She was holding what looked like a black sweater in her hands, up close, near her face. It covered her hands in fact, and I thought I saw her trembling.

   "You're alright, aren't you?" I didn't know if I was asking a question of making a statement. "You're not hurt, are you?"

   "No," she said, "I'm just scared because I'm by myself. I want to get this over with and go home. I was assaulted a month ago and need to go to the county doctor's office."

   Jeeze! My heart melted toward this innocent victim, this sweat creature who looked so harmless, but to whom violence had been perpetrated. I felt like protecting her and if she had wanted I would have gladly escorted her to her appointment, and make sure she got home safe and sound.

   I didn't offer. She might have freaked by a stranger wanting to go with her.

   And since Grand turned out to be a one way street heading south, that resolved the problem of which direction she would be going.

   "Thank you," she said once again.

   "No problem. You take care now." I walked north, toward 6th St., but I looked back at her once or twice, until she disappeared into the crowd.

   I wished her well.

   I'd worry about her for the remainder of the evening.

   I returned to the Weingart and discovered someone had been in my room while I had been gone. I hadn't locked the top lock on my door when I had left for breakfast, and it was locked upon my return. Also the bottom lock had been disengaged from the inside.

   I wasn't too alarmed. The maid comes in once a week to change the linen and mop the floor. I have no claim to privacy here, and my room can be opened for inspection at any time.

   I carefully eased my door open in any case, and stuck a mirror through the crack, carefully looking for trip wires in case of booby traps. Fortunately there were none that I could ascertain.

   Whoever had entered hadn't moved or taken anything. Perhaps the hotel staff were just spot checking to see if the room was clean. Perhaps.

   I was mildly concerned because I store so much contraband in my room. Tools and other supplies that could be considered weapons. Knives and blow torches that could be considered as weapons. A bazooka and grenades that could be considered as weapons.

   My  FN F2000 assault rifle, which, by some, could be considered a weapon.

   My harpoon.

   We're not supposed to have weapons.

   Anything can be used as a weapon.

   And I sure didn't want anyone making off with my Odalys and Giselle posters. Oh no!

   At 4:00 I went to the training room on the ground floor. Ms. Jeeter was there this week, waiting. I was the only one in Phase II who showed, so the meeting was canceled again.

   "You've been to this meeting four times, haven't you Mr. Joyce?"

   "At least," I replied.

   "Well then," she exclaimed. "That means your ready for Phase three."

   So far I hadn't been to one meeting in either Phase I or II, that had actually been held. I didn't even know what Phase I or II meant.

   John Manzano had told me that morning that he would come to my room at 5:00, so I waited for him. He didn't show. I went to dinner and found him down there already eating.

   Spaghetti.

   "Oh yeah," I said. "I'll meet your at your room at five."

   "I said I'd meet you down here."

   "No you didn't."

   "Yes I did."

   "No you didn't."

   :Yes I did."

   On and on.

   We returned to my room and watched the "Bud Bundy sex trial," episode of "Married with Children."

   Afterwards, John took a drink of water from my water bottle, got up, said he was going to go refill it, and didn't come back.

   I turned the T.V. on to Charlie Rose who was interviewing the director of the upcoming film, "Seabiscuit," and two of it's stars, Jeff Bridges and Chris Cooper.

   John came about a half hour later with my water bottle.

   "What the fuck, man! You get lost?"

   He laughed. "I called my brother," he said.

   "You called your brother? You couldn't bring my water bottle back first? I was thirsty."

   "No."

   "Christ! It's a good thing you weren't in the Normandy Invasion."

   "Why? What do you mean," he asked.

   "You would have landed in Portugal."

   We left the building at 7:07 and made our way to Pershing Square. We each possessed a 99 Cent Store plastic bag with cans of 99 Cent Store soup inside. That was the price of admission for this year's Shakespeare Festival's presentation of "The Merry Wives of Windsor." a play I was thoroughly unfamiliar with.

   John and I took seats at the edge of the lawn area facing the stage on the north side of the park, along 5th St. It wouldn't get completely dark for 30 minutes after we got there. The show started at about 8:30.

   Advertising for the event had stressed the resemblance of the plot to that of contemporary (relatively) television shows, especially "I Love Lucy," due to the shenanigans of the plays two leading ladies, Alice Ford and Margaret Page (Played wonderfully by Shana Wride and Judy Moreland). Music from sit-coms and comedy acts was played before the show started, from Laurel and Hardy to "Bewitched," and The Three Stooges. On and on.

   I enjoyed the play immensely, although my ass got a little sore sitting on cement for two hours.

   The story itself demonstrated yet once again how helpless males are constantly manipulated and abused by the dominant female race. I especially enjoyed one scene change where two of the prop people help themselves to a drink from the tavern's bar as the lights went up, and the scene didn't begin until they were finished and left the stage (I've had that job before and know what thirsty work it can be). The actors were all dressed in 1950s dress, although the dialogue, for the most part, remained that of Shakespeare's England of the 1600s.

   There was a commercial for a local pizza establishment just before the intermission, and three displays of magic. The Theme song for "Bewitched," (I admitted to John that I had seen the very first episode when it was first broadcast in 1964, the same night that Mel Brook's "Get Smart" premiered. I'm so old) was utilized in the last act, with a fair amount of magic nose twitching to boot!

   Very good!

   "Did you like that?" I asked John as we walked back.

   "It was okay," he said.

   He helped himself to a salami sandwich in my room before retiring, and I read from Al Watts Zen book.

   That night I dreamt that after I had taken my little blonde Hispanic, Scandinavian home in a giant laundry basket, seeing her safely to her door, I turned into a moose in the Fairywoods, and was pinched by Shana Wride and Judith Moreland, and a whole slew of fake fairies, ceaselessly and without mercy, until the sun once again rose above the towers surrounding Pershing Square.