Going Down Swinging

Well, I have my answer to who would bother airing anti-Kasich political ads.

Marco Rubio, of course.

I saw two instances of the same Rubio ad last night. It was a kind of confusing mish-mash starting with (I'm paraphrasing here), "Marco Rubio is awesome," segueing into "Donald Trump is the debbil," then "a vote for Cruz or Kasich = a vote for Trump," so "vote Marco. Yay!" All in less than a minute.

Two things:

Those were the only political spots I saw all night although that may be my fault since most of my limited TV time was spent either on the BBC, Al Jazeera (while it lasts), or the pre-March Madness tournaments. Colbert was the exception and that's where I saw them. I realize Florida is a large state with very numerous and distinct TV markets but, although two is a definite increase over the one, or none, per day I've been subjected to so far, this does not at all feel like a saturation campaign just days before a must-win election. Perhaps they're suffering more in Miami, Orlando and Jacksonville.

Also, the ads were put together and run by Rubio's superPac since, according to reports/rumours, Rubio's campaign is out of money and can't afford to do any commercials on their own in his own home state! I'm sure that's a confidence builder for his backers.

Our Cookie-Based Civitas

We're halfway through our early voting period before the primary election next Tuesday. The library's meeting room has been taken over by voting machines and the people who serve them, although the Christians who camp out by the door with their proselytizing propaganda have not moved as they have done in the past. They may have worked out some accommodation or, perhaps the authorities realize they're basically harmless.

I'm waiting for election day to cast my vote, mostly because the folks who run the actual precinct voting stations always have cookies and pastries and soft drinks available and never enough voters show up so there is always plenty to go around. The early-voting places are just boringly utilitarian.

I also get cookies and juice when I donate platelets.

There's no point in pretending my attention to civic duties is anything more than a Pavlovian response to a baked-goods stimulus.

Speaking of stimuli, there are no, zero, nada candidate signs on the approach road to the library. Normally there are dozens, frequently multiple signs per candidate. And I haven't seen any yard signs on lawns, either.

The TV spots are picking up, a little. I saw two more anti-Trump pieces, one of which was repeated, and another pro-Rubio. The most surprising one, however, was a hit on former Ohio governor, John Kasich.

John Kasich! Seriously?

Whose campaign manager, or superPac media "expert" has enough money to throw away attacking Kasich? Who in this race believes Kasich is any kind of threat? Is there some kind of deadline by which you have to spend a certain amount of money and you couldn't think of anything better to do with it?

Here's an idea: Buy cookies for everyone.

And, Here. We. Go.

Our presidential primary is now under two weeks away and I have finally seen campaign attack ads. Two, precisely.

Just to set the record straight, I have seen a couple of Bernie Sander's ads, I think, but they were on MSNBC, a national cable channel, not local, and I could be wrong about that because they sometimes run bits of various ads as explanatory material to their editorial segments. The two I'm talking about were local and real.

The first was from an obvious Marco Rubio supporter, although I think not from the campaign itself since it didn't have the "I'm [CANDIDATE] and I support this . . ." disclaimer. It started by claiming Rubio has foreign policy expertise (dubious, but O.K.) and then went on to disparage Donald Trump. The best line was (paraphrasing), "He claims he can negotiate with China because a Chinese bank is a tenant in one of his buildings."

The second one was also anti-Trump and didn't mention any other candidate, so must have been put out by a super-pac. It went on about all his various business failures, an impressive list.

And that's it.

No Hillary or Bernie ads even though the Democratic primary is the same day.

No other Republican ads either for or against any of the candidates, all (and I mean all) of whom are still on the ballot here. No generic attack ads for or against anyone. Just those two spots, and each one just once. I don't watch a lot of TV and what I do watch is seldom local, but still.

I cannot imagine it will stay this quiet until March 15.

Taking the Plunge

Two women from the county clerk's office were at the library today when I stopped in. They had set up their voter registration table off to the side of the entryway. They get to be inside the foyer. The Christians are set up just outside in the shade of the arcade which is nice for them in the summer but our high temperature today was 68°F (20°C) and that was at sunrise. It's been dropping since and it's very windy out there.

I walked right past the county folks at first but turned around when I realized this is now 2016 and the primaries are coming up soon. I have been thinking of registering with a party to either vote for Bernie Sanders, who I really like, or, in an attempt to monkeywrench the Republicans, Donald Trump.

The incredibly helpful women (possibly employees, possibly volunteers, I didn't ask) had the necessary form (indeed, a full stack of them. Are there that many people choosing sides this time around?) right on the table. Although a different form, it asked the same information as a new voter registration form (which they also had in abundance) and took all of three minutes to fill out.

The only reason it took me that long is because I hesitated when I got to the choosing party section. There was a check box for "Democratic Party," and one for "Republican Party," one for "No Party Affiliation" which is totally redundant since not checking any of the boxes automatically results in the default "no party affiliation" status, and the last box, "Minor Party," with a space for the voter to fill in the name of the minor party of choice. (There were no suggested minor party names, i.e., Green, Libertarian, etc., which makes me wonder if I could just make up any party name I wanted and have that listed on my voter registration card.)

Anyway, I hesitated over which path to choose, support good or fight evil. I finally decided that, if I am going to start receiving political junk mail—and I know I will, now—I really don't want to see xenophobic fear-mongering, religious pandering and/or economic nonsense.

I am a proud new—officially registered—member of the Florida Democratic Party.

Go Bernie!

Is This What Democracy Feels Like?

I have been voting now for near on fifty years, ever since I was old enough to register. I have missed maybe two or three elections in all that time. Never before have all of my choices/candidates won. In fact, the vast majority of my candidates over the years have lost mostly because I do not vote a party line in any election and usually go for the third (or fourth) party candidates. Also, recently I've tended to live in very lopsidedly one-party states. The only presidential candidate I ever voted for who won was Barack Obama.

Imagine my surprise when the returns came back this week from Tuesday's local election.

All the candidates I chose won. Admittedly there were only three of them, but still. Every charter amendment I voted for passed and the ones I opposed lost.

I'm not quite sure how to deal with this strange sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, but I doubt it will survive next year's election.

 

Crikey! What a Bunch of Cheapskates!

I was at the library, which is one of the early voting locations, and decided to get my civic duty over with.

There were seven or eight volunteers and poll watchers there to serve me, the lone voter (although I had seen other people going in and out earlier). The ID-checker-man said my signature on the electronic card reader thingy looked just like the one on my license which I'm not sure was a compliment but it did allow me to go and get my ballot.

I voted "Yes" on all the charter amendments except for lowering the veto requirements and lowering the referendum requirements. I also voted for the non-ideological, non-Tea Party candidates for council, at least as far as I could tell in a non-partisan, no-label election.

And I was shocked (shocked, I say!) to discover that the change in how elected city officials' pay would be determined means that the $36,600 and $32,600 salaries listed in the amendment will represent a 50% increase over what they're being paid now! Are you kidding me?! This is the tenth largest city in the state by population, almost 155,000 people, and we've been paying these guys between $19- and $23,000 a year to run the place?? It may have been a part-time job when the city was first incorporated but it sure ain't now.

Well, I did my part. Now we'll just have to wait until after the official election day, this Tuesday, to find out just what kind of tightwads the rest of the neighbors are. My hopes are not high.

Ignorance Under the Law

Confession time. When I moved to this city I never took the time to sit down and actually read the city charter. In fact, I never read the charter of Salt Lake City when I lived there, nor of any other place I've ever lived. Every incorporated municipality has one, right?

Has anyone read their city's charter or incorporating documents?

Ever?

And I don't count lawyers hired by or contracted to a city who must read it as part of their jobs, nor lawyers for people who might want legal recourse against a municipality. I'm referring to real people.

And yet, this fall, we, the voters who have never read our charter, are being asked to amend it in seven different places. Because we're the ones in charge, after all.

Most of the amendments seem sensible enough:

• Change the amount of severance pay due to city officers when they get fired from four months to four months or whatever is required by state law, whichever is less. (Yes, let's follow state law, please.)
• Change the mayor's and city council's salaries to a fixed amount instead of one based on the number of registered voters. (Who came up with that weird formula in the first place? And the mayor's salary will be only $36,600 a year? Council members, $32,600. For a city with a population just shy of 155,000 people? Really?)
• Change the charter to specify that emergency regulations must be enacted in accordance with state law. (There's the second reference to behaving according to state law. How were we doing it before?)
• Bring our anti-discrimination ordinances up to par by including color, religion sexual orientation, national origin, age, handicap, marital status and/or any class protected by state or federal law. (Yay! I don't have any idea how many of those were not covered before and I wish it were possible to just say "Don't discriminate," but since people in power apparently need to be told in detail this will do nicely for now. And again with the obeying state law thing.)

Two proposed amendments, I don't know what their effect will be or what the intent really is:

• Reduce the number of signatures needed to force a referendum from 15% to 10%. (There's a fine line between allowing citizens to bypass a recalcitrant council and encouraging cranks to petition for their every little hobby horse. If we cross that line it could be nigh impossible to claw back to it. Technically, each of these amendments constitutes its own referendum, already. Just based on the published letters to the editor, I'm inclined to believe we have enough Tea Partiers in town to really gum up the works if given the chance. I'm leaning towards, "No.")
• Reduce the number of members on future Charter Review Commissions (O.K., I guess these folks have read the charter. Don't know how many are lawyers, though.) from nine to seven with two alternates. (Seems like a housekeeping kind of thing. Perhaps they didn't all get along this time. I'll likely go for it.)

And one proposal is a no go from the start:

• Reduce the number of votes needed to override the mayor's line-item veto from two-thirds to a simply majority (but not less than four). (Sorry, no. This is a power grab by the council that will enable them to get their pet projects approved at the expense of the entire city using the good-ol'-boy, buddy-buddy, "I'll override yours if you override mine," system. Our council has too many goofballs (and developers/politicians in developers' pockets) on it to trust them. Perhaps we could get more competent people if we paid them more?)

So there we are. We are charged with changing the rules by which we govern ourselves. It's kind of inspiring although it does make me wonder what else we're still doing that isn't "in accordance with state law."

Not enough to go read the damned charter, though.

(Non-)Participatory Democracy

We finished up a week or so of early voting last week followed by the official primary vote day to select the candidates for each political party who will now run against each other for various local offices.

I say "we" although that "we" doesn't include "me" since I am unaffiliated and not allowed to involve myself in the parties' selection of their candidates, it being an internal party matter. (There is an interesting exception: If only one party will have a candidate for a particular office in the general election, a situation which can and does happen in this heavily conservative area where liberals have trouble finding people willing to be sacrificial lambs, then the primary for that office effectively becomes the general for that office and is open to all voters. That did not happen this time around.)

Someone wrote a letter to the paper complaining that the turnout was only 18%. It wasn't clear if that was of the total electorate (which wouldn't be quite fair since about 30% of the voters were, like myself, ineligible due to our independent status) or just of the party members. Either way is still pretty pathetic.

I am seriously thinking of registering with a political party in order to be able to vote in one or the other of the upcoming presidential primaries next spring. I just haven't decided whether to register Democrat in order to vote for Bernie Sanders because I think he's great, or Republican so I can vote for Donald Trump and try to monkeywrench their process. High road, low road. Which shall it be?

An interesting side note to last week's primaries: One of the early voting places was the town library and for the first day or two the Christians who have their little display out in front by the meeting room door moved over to the far side of the main entrance. Then they moved back for the rest of the week. I guess somebody figured out they weren't stumping for any listed candidate and weren't violating the ban on campaigning within a hundred yards of a polling place. Besides, they only talk amongst themselves unless someone approaches them and initiates the conversation.

Storm Watch: Well, That Escalated Quickly

Our thoroughly corrupt, Tea Party governor has declared a state of emergency in advance of Tropical Storm Erika.

I have no respect for this man who should be behind bars and would be if the 1% stopped covering for each other but this was probably a good idea, all in all. Mind you, we still don't know where . . . or if . . . Erika might hit us. It was forecast to go north of Puerto Rico and then turn up the Florida coast. Instead, it moved south of the island and is expected to cross over Hispaniola which might kill it thanks to the mountainous terrain. If it does survive or reform after the Dominican Republic it will be further west before making its northerly turn which means a much better chance of hitting the Florida mainland and of being much closer to us.

In fact, the most recent predicted track, assuming Erika survives Hispaniola, puts the center of the storm directly over us before noon Monday.

The state of emergency activates the Florida National Guard in addition to preparing the way to apply for federal aid. It also gives the media a handle to help focus people's attention. Considering how little experience a lot of folks down here have with cyclonic storms right now, that's probably a good thing.

Police on Sanibel Island have begun issuing re-entry passes to residents (orange for homeowners, blue for businesses) for use in the event the island needs to be evacuated.

Of course, Erika might not survive the Dominican mountains. It might not turn at all but go straight into the Gulf of Mexico. But it's already killed a dozen or more people so better to be over prepared than under.

The Community Library

The lady collecting signatures on the petition to include medical marijuana on the ballot (again) for next year's election was out in front of the library all this week, sharing space with the Christians who are something of a permanent, although, as far as I can tell, ineffectual, presence.

She has a nice homemade-looking display on her card table and says "Hi," to everyone walking in. When I stopped to talk to her she said she just greets everyone entering and only engages them on the way out. I told her I probably wouldn't be leaving until closing time so, unless she was planning on hanging around until then she should really talk to me (and a lot of others, too) every chance she got. She admitted she hadn't considered that possibility and wasn't planning on staying that late so I signed the petition right then and there. For the record, the initiative won a majority last time but, since it's trying to amend the state constitution, needs two thirds of the vote to go into effect and "only" received about 60%. The main sponsor, a very successful ambulance-chasing law firm, vowed to try again and so . . . here we are.

Meanwhile, inside, the notice for the ayurveda yoga classes has been replaced with one announcing the upcoming tai-chi sessions.

The Christians, despite a professional looking literature display just seem to sit out in the heat and talk amongst themselves.

. . . And the End of Civilization As We Know It

Today is the day Florida's judicial stay on the enforcement of the declaration of unconstitutionality of the state's ban on same-sex marriages was lifted. It's convoluted.

Several years ago, along with a bunch of other red(dish) states, our legislature managed to work up enough of a paranoid frenzy among the insecure and easily frightened to get a constitutional amendment passed limiting marriage to the "traditional" one man, one woman format and besides, it's what Jesus wants. (Let's forget that "traditional marriage" as they defined it is barely more than a century old and for most of history was a transfer of property contract between men, and Biblical marriage was even worse involving slavery and polygamy (lookin' at you, Solomon!).)

Anyway, last year a federal judge, upon complaint from two guys wishing to wed in the north end of the state and two women in Miami, declared the ban unconstitutional under the federal 14th amendment which requires states to comply with federal law and ordered the clerks of the county in which the betrothed lived to issue the marriage licenses.

The state, in the full majesty of its official capacity, immediately freaked out and requested a stay of judgment to give it time to appeal the decision, which the judge granted.

Now, the thing about appeals is: higher courts are not usually required to hear them and, if they refuse, the original ruling, whatever it may be, stands. And no higher court, not even the Supreme Court where the extremely conservative Clarence Thomas was the justice who heard the request, agreed to take the case.

So the stay was set to expire at midnight last night.

And then the fun started. The state attorney general, still in full freak-out mode, declared that the ruling only applied to the plaintiffs and anyone else seeking a same-sex marriage could still be discriminated against. And the law firm for the county clerks' association warned the members that the clerks of all the other counties not covered by the ruling risked breaking the law by applying the ruling. So on New Year's Day the judge issued a clarification making it plain that his injunction against the constitutional ban applied to everyone across the state.

At which point some counties (specifically those encompassing Miami, Tampa and Key West) began celebrating, most counties began adjusting their forms and procedures, and a dozen counties in the deep redneck north of the state began contorting themselves to do the barest minimum mainly by refusing to perform any marriage ceremonies gay or straight on the logic that the judge's ruling applied only to marriage licenses not actual marriages. (At least they were smart enough to realize that continuing to perform straight marriage ceremonies would open themselves up to discrimination charges. And there are plenty of other options, both religious and secular, for couples to hold their services.)

And so, despite the trembling of the earth, rising of the waters, lightning splitting stone, and howling winds, society has not yet collapsed. And Florida is being dragged kicking and screaming right up to the edge of the twenty-first century.

How I Came to Stand Beside Connie Chung While Nixon Resigned

Short answer: She was last in line.

Forty years ago today I was wandering around D.C. with too much time on my hands having just recently resigned as director of development for the National Student Lobby due to massive burnout. It was an intense time to be in Washington.

I'd been to some of the Capitol Hill hearings and a co-worker whose parents lived around the corner from the Watergate prosecutors snagged her a couple of tickets to the trial so we got to sit in on a session. The high points, aside from seeing Maureen "Mo" Dean, came while we were standing in line waiting to get into the courtroom. We were right next to a small branching hallway that led to the judges' chambers and "Maximum" John Sirica, himself, stopped on his way in and said "Hello," to us. Then Art Buchwald wandered by and autographed our copy of the Washington Post which we had used as a sign-up sheet while we were still out in the plaza waiting for the courthouse to open up and which everyone getting into line signed in order of arrival and then honored even though the guard announced that he could not and would not enforce it.

The radio said the president intended to make an announcement this evening and the rumors started flying. He was going to resign. He was going to declare martial law. He was going to throw Haldeman and Erlichman under the bus. Tanks and APCs were seen across the bridge in Arlington. He was going to dismiss Congress. The national guard was over by Union Station.

I decided to go to Lafayette Park which was, at that time, still separated from the north lawn of the White House by Pennsylvania Avenue. It turned out not to be an original idea.

There were thousands of people there. Some were protesting, yelling, chanting and carrying homemade signs. Many more were partying and some sections of the park became enveloped in pungent clouds which the police monitored with some amusement and an attitude of "as long as they stay peaceful, we stay out of it," although that didn't prevent a certain amount of paranoia from floating around with the smoke. This is where I heard most of the more outlandish rumors. I seem to recall a few small fireworks, too.

At the south end of the park, right up against Pennsylvania Avenue, and with an unobstructed view of the White House, the TV news crews were setting up. They parked their trucks at the corners and ran cables out to their crews. Each network and major station had its own crew: cameraman, sound man, lighting tech, make-up, talking head. As the sun went down, they set up in a line along the avenue, shoulder to shoulder. That way they each got almost identical background shots of the White House without indicating there was anyone else also standing there broadcasting the exact same thing. Nowadays, there are so many news outlets I doubt they could all fit in that space but back then there were only the three networks (ABC, CBS, NBC), the local channels (both network and independent) and a couple of major channels with ambitions (mostly out of New York) which. although they were network affiliates, felt the need to have their own people there in addition.

One of those people was Connie Chung.

She was still with WCBS out of New York and not yet with the network. And she was just as hot in person as on air even with all the pancake make-up on. She was the last reporter in line on the east end, right next to Dan Rather who was with CBS network and therefor directly competing for the same eyeballs. The klieg lights all in a row made the rest of the evening that much darker. I stood at the end of the line, about three feet away and watched Nixon resign on the same monitor her producer was using.

I wandered away when the resignation was over and the "analysis" began. I'd be surprised if folks in the White House couldn't hear all the cheering and yelling that went up from the park that night. The party continued on for quite a while.

Eventually I went home and, a few months later, with all the adrenaline gone from an exhausted city, moved back to Connecticut.

Jumping the Gun

It's three days before the special Republican primary election to select one of the candidates (and, given, the hard conservatism of this district, the likely winner) to replace our disgraced coke-headed Tea Party congressman and the local newspaper has done something I don't recall ever seeing before.

Their dead-tree edition has a front page story, covering the top two-thirds, effectively calling the race for one of the candidates based on a poll conducted earlier in the week. The headline reads, "ALL CLAWSON," with a picture of the candidate about twice as large as the others. (I think the size of the photo is equivalent to the per centage of favorable responses in the poll.) Clawson is an "outsider," a Tea Party darling and something of a carpetbagger, just like the last few congressmen from this district everyone is so embarrassed about.

The poll was conducted over three days and limited to registered Republicans (it's a closed primary) who claimed they were "certain" or "likely" to vote. There were 669 respondents. Further breakdown reveals that 91% were white, and 50% are over 65 years old. Another 36% are between 45 and 65. There's no telling how many of the remaining 14% are real close to 45 but as the Tea Partiers and other far right conservatives die off around the country, this will probably be their last stronghold.

Meanwhile, the actual election is still in progress. Early voting has been going on all week. Absentee ballots have reportedly been received at the county clerk's office in near record numbers. And the official election day isn't until Tuesday.

The cynic in me wonders if this is not a ploy by the newspaper (which is actually fairly moderate on political issues) to make Clawson supporters believe the election is in the bag, thereby lowering their turnout on election day and getting the followers of one of the also-rans fired up to go vote. Politics is dirty enough around here that it's possible.

Telling Time by the Pint

It's hard to believe I've been down here in Florida this long. The blood center at the hospital just sent me my seven gallon certificate.

At 8 pints per gallon, figuring in a donation every four weeks (next one is coming up on Thursday), allowing for maybe not starting right on the first month I got here and missing a few scheduled sessions because of either forgetting to stop my aspirin in time or complications (infiltrations, a collapsed vein, etc.), I'm still coming up on five years down here.

And the worst part is, I'm getting used to it, too. A lot of the redneck behavior is starting to seem more-or-less normal. I'm beginning to understand (although, thankfully, not yet sympathize with) the local politics. The endless procession of identical sunny days. 65F seems downright chilly, now, when the sun is behind clouds.

I may have to move back to someplace with seasons.

So, This Year Is Pretty Much Planned Out Already

We're having an extra round of elections here, this year. Yay.

Our brand new Teabagger congressman, the former right-wing family-values radio talk-show host who was accused during the campaign of owning porno urls and squatting on competitors' addresses, was -- surprise, surprise -- busted up in Washington for buying cocaine. He was set up by his supplier.

Fortunately for him, the amount he bought only qualified as a misdemeanor in D.C.. Down here it would have been a felony. He plead out (blaming his alcoholism(!)), was given a fine and probation, and checked himself into some sort of 28 day Jiffy-Hab resort. 28 days later: Presto! Brand new squeaky-clean (but still radical reactionary) congressman. Only the local Young Republicans were buying it, though. Everyone else, from the governor on down, including the vast majority who had voted for him in the first place, cried out, "Depart, we say, and let us have done with you." (Or something to that effect. Apologies to Cromwell.) After a month of insisting that, no, he was fine, really, cured completely, nothing to see here anymore, please let me keep my cushy job, he finally resigned. Of course, it's strictly coincidental that the House Ethics Committee investigation of his behavior became moot as soon as he left.

Anyway, his seat is now empty and rather than wait until the regularly scheduled general election this November, the governor has set a special election for June 24, with a primary for the multiple Republican hopefuls set for April 22. The Democrats and Libertarians have one candidate each so there will be no primary for those parties.

The winner in June, most likely the Republican primary survivor (this district is made up of a huge number of old white folks with enough money to be able to retire to Florida), will have to turn right around and stand for re-election in November. And more than likely face another Republican primary in August.

The rationale for holding the special election is that it is critical for us to have representation but, given that Congress does virtually nothing lately and does even less than that over the summer, and given the length of even abbreviated election campaigns in this country, the only time our new representative will not be campaigning is the last week of June and the first two weeks of July during which he/she will be moving into his/her new offices. And Congress will be in recess for Independence Day.

But at least somebody will be collecting the congressional paycheck for our district.

Late Night Drinks With Pete Seeger

I woke up this morning to the news Pete Seeger had died and flashed back about forty years or so. 1971 to be exact.

I was a sophomore at a small private university in northern New Jersey majoring in political science and self-appointed chair of the school's environment committee. My roommate, Bart, was majoring in theater (and later went on to get his masters and create and lead the puppetry department at the University of Connecticut).

There was an official student entertainment committee that booked popular-but-safe concerts (I remember Santana being one) but Bart wasn't satisfied with their selections and essentially started his own freelance booking agency on campus specializing in unknown, under appreciated, controversial acts mostly of the acoustic or folk variety. Among others, I remember he brought in the Boys of the Lough featuring Aly Bain and Mike Whellans.

And he booked Pete Seeger.

I don't remember the actual venue for that concert. The official committee usually booked into the gymnasium. Bart's concerts were much smaller and usually played in the common room of the Great Hall ( a copy of Christ Church Hall at Oxford University).

The important thing is not where the concert was held, or that it was a roaring success. The important thing is that, after the show, as Pete and his accompanists were packing up, someone asked him if he would care for refreshments before taking off and he allowed that, "singin' is thirsty work," whereupon we decided, what with the hour and all the commercial establishments being close to or already past closing time, to invite him back to our dorm room for a beer or three.

To our delight, he accepted. And so Pete Seeger (and troupe) spent the next two hours or so up in our room in deep conversation about music and politics and the environment. We talked about the war. We talked about pollution. He told of us building the sloop, Clearwater, a sailing ship on the Hudson River as a kind of moving billboard for cleaning up the water. He took out his guitar and and strummed a bit. He told us never to get discouraged or give up, the fight was its own reward and you never knew what kind of effect you could have down the line.

Rest in peace, Pete Seeger. What an effect you had, down the line.

We're Bombing in New Haven

In American theater, there are several degrees of importance. There is, of course, "Broadway." Major venues that are not literally on Broadway but still within the theater district are, logically enough, "Off Broadway." Those even further out but still in Manhattan (or at least New York City), and frequently experimental, are "Off Off-Broadway." And then there is "Off Off-Off-Broadway, sometimes also known as "New Haven."

We have the same thing with elections. We have elections around here every year for something or other. The big ones, of course, are the even-numbered year quadrennial presidential elections when we enjoy months of vicious mudslinging advertisements, day-long lines in the hot sun, eight-page ballots crammed with ridiculous proposed constitutional amendments the legislature was too craven to pass on their own, hanging chads, miscounts, recounts and court challenges. And the unrelenting attention of the national news media. This is our political "Broadway."

Two years later, in the intervening even years, we have our off-year elections when the federal House of Representatives, the state legislature, governor and the rest of the elected state officials, and the occasional U.S. Senator all stand for office. Fewer people show up for this one than the presidential elections but the governorship is important enough to attract a fairly decent turnout most years.

Then there are the off off-year elections. The odd-numbered year elections. The local races for mayor and city council and county commission and other even more obscure positions. The offices that generate the largest volume of most passionate, florid, ill-considered, barely literate and unintentionally hilarious letters to the editor of the local newspaper. This year.

Today.

And no one shows. I voted today. I went to my precinct just before noon. I thought I saw someone leaving as I entered but it could easily have been a poll worker taking some air. I was the only voter there during the time it took me to cast my ballot. There was a "guard" at the door, three people at the table where I showed my ID and received my number, another to trade me my number for a blank ballot, still one more to stand by and instruct me how to insert the completed ballot into the machine if I didn't know how or had forgotten since last time and two sitting attentively at another table watching the whole process. And that doesn't count the three people at the refreshment table on the way out offering to reward me with coffee and pastries.

I was outnumbered eleven-to-one.

People will bitch and moan about the president and blame him for things over which he has no control and are the Congress' responsibility. But they don't bother to vote for representative or senator. They complain about the governor but never vote against their state legislator. And for the politicians and offices that have the most effect on their taxes and day-to-day lives, the people who determine the property tax rates and manage the police and fire services, who run the sewer and water department and repair the roads? They don't even bother to vote.

But the letters will still be in the paper tomorrow.

It's All About the Values

The county immediately south of us, which likes to pride itself on its ritzy image, is witnessing a delightful set of lawsuits.

It seems Larry Flynt, the notorious publisher of the equally notorious skin mag Hustler, is suing his little brother Jimmy over use of the family name in Jimmy's "Flynt Sexy Gifts" sexy gift shop while the county zoning officers are accusing him of running a sexually oriented business, which would seem to be a logical assumption given the name "Flynt Sexy Gifts" and the sexy gifts allegedly on offer there but which Jimmy nevertheless denies is the case, all of which has brought enough unwanted attention to the property that the landlord now wants Jimmy out despite Jimmy's claims that he has not violated the lease.

Apparently, this sort of thing is common in the Flynt family. According to Jimmy, "My brother and I have been together in courtrooms and been against each other in courtrooms, courtrooms is [sic] familiar territory to us, it doesnt bother us."

Meanwhile, all we have up here is the FBI swooping in and interviewing every city official except the mayor in regards to some land deals, a road widening project and a redevelopment plan for the downtown waterfront. In other words, the boring usual stuff.

This is why their county is better than ours. They get the juicy salacious stuff. We just get the graft.

Stereotypes, Florida Automotive Division

Today, on a major boulevard in town: a delivery truck for a local electronics retailer cruising down the middle lane with his left turn blinker on. Yesterday, on a slightly smaller street (only two lanes in each direction) a motorcycle in the far right hand lane, ridden by an elderly gentleman, cars fearful of passing him because he, also, had his left turn signal blinking merrily away for over a mile.

Coming out of the library, a little old emphysematic lady (she doesn't use oxygen but you can hear her wheezing a good ten feet away) wisely stopped at the edge of the curb and waited while an SUV pulling out from the book drop-off ran the stop sign. She then tottered through the parking lot to her own car where she literally disappeared (her hands on the steering wheel were more visible through the windshield than her head). The car eased off down the road a good fifteen miles and hour under the speed limit.

The decade-old, mufflerless pick up truck with the rebel flag decals on the rear window that took off from the intersection as if the green flag had dropped at Daytona all screeching tires and clouds of exhaust fumes only to stall out half a block down the road blocking the lane.

And not least, by far: the Mercedes SUV with the "Tell Barack I'm Baroke" bumper sticker.

I don't think so.

Aftermath

Turns out I was a bit premature in my optimism regarding the shortening voting lines at the library yesterday.

At 4:45 p.m. the line was back and even longer stretching out into and through the main library parking lot. It was at least three times longer than the one I'd seen going in. I spoke with a young woman who was heading back to her car after voting and she said she'd been waiting for over two hours and her line had been much shorter when she had begun her trek. We agreed the current wait must be over four hours (and the polls "close" in just over three). "Close," of course, means no one else can get in line. If you're already there--and stay there--you're good to go.

The six o'clock news had numerous reports of extra-long lines at polling places throughout the county. It turns out the number of actual voting machines assigned to each precinct is based on the number of registered voters (reasonable enough) as a per centage of total voters (O.K.) and as a result many precincts received exactly one voting machine (seriously?! WTF?). The extra-long ballot took close to a minute to feed into the machine meaning a maximum of 60-70 voters per hour throughput, until the machine malfunctioned, which some of them did more than once. In addition, the elderly and handicapped were not accommodated but were expected to stand in line with everyone else.

There are already letters to the editor in the newspaper (the very next day in a morning paper which is kind of impressive in itself) charging incompetence, which I am inclined to believe, and claiming intentional voter suppression, which doesn't make a lot of sense since this is a heavily Republican area and the election was put together by Republicans. As I said yesterday, I don't tend to make political predictions, but I think this will be remembered next cycle, and not to the advantage of those in charge.

Fortunately, our swing state was not determinative to the outcome after all, so our election was merely farce, not tragedy.