For a worthwhile Internet source on what's going on at Virginia's General Assembly session take a few minutes to look over the Waldo Jaquith blog. In general, the political commentary at Waldo Jaquith is sharp and entertaining. The ongoing GA coverage is a hoot; here's part of the most recent post, "Honer edgakation funding":
"...There’s a pack of old white guys shambling about the halls of the General Assembly advocating selling the organs of undocumented immigrants. (Or something like that.) They’re all wearing buttons that say 'STOP: Honer the Rule of Law.' Some of them have scrawled the letter 'o' over the 'e' in 'honer,' but the first impression has, alas, been made."
Since 1985, in various formats, SLANT -- an independent voice based in the heart of Richmond, Virginia -- has offered its readers original commentary on politics and popular culture. Warning: Occasionally, that means wiseass cartoons and satirical content. Naturally, all rights are reserved.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Monday, January 23, 2006
Listening to Better Angels
When I was 16 I talked a thief out of stealing a charity’s plastic contribution box from the counter of a beachfront doughnut shop.
In the summer of 1964 my teenage morality was too keen to allow me to ignore Mike snatching the coin container and hiding it in his nylon parka. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t keen enough to keep me from hanging around with such a character, who lied as easily as he breathed, frequently started fights and let his friends down. So Mike was still part of my circle of friends, then, which would change, but it's quite another story.
Anyway, Mike and I, along with a couple of other high school classmates, had been up all night drinking as we searched for and crashed parties. It was about 8 a.m. and we were low on cash, to replenish our supply of beer and gasoline. In the vernacular of the day: we were "wasted." Living day-to-day on beer, cigarettes and doughnuts at Virginia Beach -- without adults in the picture -- passed for a happening lifestyle to us.
One of Mike’s weaknesses was his superstitious nature. So, I told him he’d probably catch the disease -- which one escapes me -- if he stole their money. Mike chuckled, because he knew I was trying to trick him into putting it back. Yet, a few fretful minutes later, he nonetheless undid the dirty deed and replaced the box. I was satisfied with myself then, in part because the people who'd contributed to the charity hadn't wasted their trust.
Now I would say the money would not really have been wasted, even if badboy Mike had kept it. The children who had put in their dimes, to help others they didn't even know, they became better citizens. So, there’s the act of giving, with the feeling of doing it. That’s one thing. Then there’s what happens afterwards. In truth, every time we follow our hearts to trust anyone, there’s a risk. Will we waste our money, or worse -- our time?
Today there are a lot of grieving people, especially in Richmond, who want to contribute in some way toward establishing fitting remembrances to the Harvey family -- a family whose lives touched so many others before their deaths on Jan.1 in their Woodland Heights home.
Accordingly, some of those who were closest to the Harveys are currently working with the The Community Foundation -- a Richmond-based non-profit foundation since 1968 -- to raise money, eventually to be used to underwrite projects honoring the family’s devotion to art and music, and to the arts education of children. The specifics are still to come, but because of who is behind this project I can happily endorse their effort. Here's the link to the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment.
Meanwhile, I’m getting email/messages from people who have bright ideas of how to raise money. They aren't sure what to do. My advice to them is to contact Kim Russell at The Community Foundation: (804) 330-7400.
Russell says, “For now, people who are planning something should get in touch.” She’s already had a few calls along those lines (see post below this one about a restaurant that raised $500). That way if anyone comes across a spontaneous fund-raising effort -- let's say a jar in a shop calling for donations, or restaurants giving a percentage of their take, etc., if you like -- you can check with The Community Foundation, to see if the folks doing the collecting have really been in touch and are on Russell's list.
Russell adds that soon she hopes to have such information available to everyone online, as well as the capability for donations to be made over the Internet. Resources are pouring in, some are donating services and so forth.
The important thing, at this point, is there are honest efforts underway. In time they will snowball. No one, not even Mike’s ilk, can steal the good feeling you’ll have if you listen to your better angels and get involved. More information on this topic will follow.
In the summer of 1964 my teenage morality was too keen to allow me to ignore Mike snatching the coin container and hiding it in his nylon parka. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t keen enough to keep me from hanging around with such a character, who lied as easily as he breathed, frequently started fights and let his friends down. So Mike was still part of my circle of friends, then, which would change, but it's quite another story.
Anyway, Mike and I, along with a couple of other high school classmates, had been up all night drinking as we searched for and crashed parties. It was about 8 a.m. and we were low on cash, to replenish our supply of beer and gasoline. In the vernacular of the day: we were "wasted." Living day-to-day on beer, cigarettes and doughnuts at Virginia Beach -- without adults in the picture -- passed for a happening lifestyle to us.
One of Mike’s weaknesses was his superstitious nature. So, I told him he’d probably catch the disease -- which one escapes me -- if he stole their money. Mike chuckled, because he knew I was trying to trick him into putting it back. Yet, a few fretful minutes later, he nonetheless undid the dirty deed and replaced the box. I was satisfied with myself then, in part because the people who'd contributed to the charity hadn't wasted their trust.
Now I would say the money would not really have been wasted, even if badboy Mike had kept it. The children who had put in their dimes, to help others they didn't even know, they became better citizens. So, there’s the act of giving, with the feeling of doing it. That’s one thing. Then there’s what happens afterwards. In truth, every time we follow our hearts to trust anyone, there’s a risk. Will we waste our money, or worse -- our time?
Today there are a lot of grieving people, especially in Richmond, who want to contribute in some way toward establishing fitting remembrances to the Harvey family -- a family whose lives touched so many others before their deaths on Jan.1 in their Woodland Heights home.
Accordingly, some of those who were closest to the Harveys are currently working with the The Community Foundation -- a Richmond-based non-profit foundation since 1968 -- to raise money, eventually to be used to underwrite projects honoring the family’s devotion to art and music, and to the arts education of children. The specifics are still to come, but because of who is behind this project I can happily endorse their effort. Here's the link to the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment.
Meanwhile, I’m getting email/messages from people who have bright ideas of how to raise money. They aren't sure what to do. My advice to them is to contact Kim Russell at The Community Foundation: (804) 330-7400.
Russell says, “For now, people who are planning something should get in touch.” She’s already had a few calls along those lines (see post below this one about a restaurant that raised $500). That way if anyone comes across a spontaneous fund-raising effort -- let's say a jar in a shop calling for donations, or restaurants giving a percentage of their take, etc., if you like -- you can check with The Community Foundation, to see if the folks doing the collecting have really been in touch and are on Russell's list.
Russell adds that soon she hopes to have such information available to everyone online, as well as the capability for donations to be made over the Internet. Resources are pouring in, some are donating services and so forth.
The important thing, at this point, is there are honest efforts underway. In time they will snowball. No one, not even Mike’s ilk, can steal the good feeling you’ll have if you listen to your better angels and get involved. More information on this topic will follow.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Harvey Fund-Raising Efforts
Taken from family and friends in a searing flash, in order to remember the lost Harveys in a fitting way there is much sentiment in the air to turn the panic and sorrow felt during of the first week of 2006 into something uplifting.
Now, if missing Bryan, Kathy, Stella and Ruby is making you feel you should act, or maybe you wish to atone for something you regret, or if you miss a time in your own life when you weren't so cynical, perhaps this is your best chance to do something purely good to make it right.
Act.
Accordingly, a tip of SLANT’s cap goes out to Jeff Allums, who runs a restaurant in the Fan District -- the Baja Bean. For Allums, too, absorbing the news of the murder of the Harvey family was difficult but unavoidable, in the scary days following the tragedy. Upon reading about the establishment of the Harveys' memorial endowment on SLANTblog Mr. Allums felt he should act.
Allums has been in business at the corner of Lombardy and Main since 1999. While he didn’t know the Harveys, he knew plenty of people who did. He found that several of his regular customers, especially the Happy Hour geezers that once hung out at the Texas-Wisconsin Border Cafe (1982-99), remembered Kathy Harvey fondly, Bryan, too.
Kathy was quite easy on the eyes when she waitressed at the old Border over 15 years ago, pre-World of Mirth; it's said the Harveys’ romance got some early traction there in that time. Perhaps it's so, the Border was then in an atmospheric league of it own, cool-wise -- as blue collar-artsy a bar as the law allowed in Richmond.
Anyway, Allums understood the Harveys were connected in many ways to the culture that helps his business thrive.
Jeff is also a father.
So, the restaurant’s general manager got an idea. A Baja Bean flyer was produced which announced, “On Tuesday January 17th, 2006, from 4 p.m. - 10 p.m. we will be passing the bucket and donating 25% of the sales to benefit The Harvey Family Memorial [Endowment].” He got in touch with The Community Foundation. About $500 was raised. Jeff trusts that money will be used well.
That’s how easy it was. A good deed was done. Updates on further fund-raising efforts, and new details on how the sums raised will be used by the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment, will be posted as they come in.
Now, if missing Bryan, Kathy, Stella and Ruby is making you feel you should act, or maybe you wish to atone for something you regret, or if you miss a time in your own life when you weren't so cynical, perhaps this is your best chance to do something purely good to make it right.
Act.
Accordingly, a tip of SLANT’s cap goes out to Jeff Allums, who runs a restaurant in the Fan District -- the Baja Bean. For Allums, too, absorbing the news of the murder of the Harvey family was difficult but unavoidable, in the scary days following the tragedy. Upon reading about the establishment of the Harveys' memorial endowment on SLANTblog Mr. Allums felt he should act.
Allums has been in business at the corner of Lombardy and Main since 1999. While he didn’t know the Harveys, he knew plenty of people who did. He found that several of his regular customers, especially the Happy Hour geezers that once hung out at the Texas-Wisconsin Border Cafe (1982-99), remembered Kathy Harvey fondly, Bryan, too.
Kathy was quite easy on the eyes when she waitressed at the old Border over 15 years ago, pre-World of Mirth; it's said the Harveys’ romance got some early traction there in that time. Perhaps it's so, the Border was then in an atmospheric league of it own, cool-wise -- as blue collar-artsy a bar as the law allowed in Richmond.
Anyway, Allums understood the Harveys were connected in many ways to the culture that helps his business thrive.
Jeff is also a father.
So, the restaurant’s general manager got an idea. A Baja Bean flyer was produced which announced, “On Tuesday January 17th, 2006, from 4 p.m. - 10 p.m. we will be passing the bucket and donating 25% of the sales to benefit The Harvey Family Memorial [Endowment].” He got in touch with The Community Foundation. About $500 was raised. Jeff trusts that money will be used well.
That’s how easy it was. A good deed was done. Updates on further fund-raising efforts, and new details on how the sums raised will be used by the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment, will be posted as they come in.
Friday, January 20, 2006
Remembering the Music
Tonight (Friday) the Jimmy Catlett Band is performing live at Poe's Pub, 2706 E. Main St. Shannon O'Connor is opening. By the way, the Jimmy Catlett Band includes Armistead Wellford (Love Tractor, Gutterball) and Kevin Pittman (Dads), both of whom collaborated with the late Bryan Harvey in various projects/bands. SLANTblog has been tipped off the band is planning to do a couple of Bryan Harvey covers as a tribute.
Beyond that gesture there's some move afoot now to produce a CD with various groups covering House of Freaks material, in order to raise money for the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment. It's too soon to say more.
Beyond that gesture there's some move afoot now to produce a CD with various groups covering House of Freaks material, in order to raise money for the Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial Endowment. It's too soon to say more.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Kaine to Speak for Dems
Mark Warner introduced Tim Kaine to the election-night party in the Canal Club, Nov. 2, 2004, as "your next governor!" "...In the wake of the congressional lobbying scandals, Democrats are attempting to capitalize on what they call a culture of corruption in the Republican-controlled Congress. That makes it appealing to turn to an outside-the-Beltway governor, rather than a member of Congress, for the response to Bush's speech this month. For Kaine, the selection is the culmination of a whirlwind of activity since he defeated Republican Jerry W. Kilgore on Nov. 8."
Photo Credit; F.T. Rea
Free Speech on the Freeway
Thanks to Triscula's post at Three Wheels we can kill some time learning about, perhaps enjoying, the escapades of a political artist/commentator known to some as the Freeway Blogger.A visit to the Freeway Blogger's web site shows a photo gallery of his on-site work and offers background on what he thinks he's up to. In the San Francisco Guardian in "Sign of the Times" Jan Sturman writes:
"In the past four years, [the Freeway Blogger] says, he's planted more than 2,500 of these brain-mines along California's freeways. He estimates that today's propaganda campaign could reach up to a quarter of a million people. Not bad for a few dollars in supplies and a couple hours of work. It all started with a soggy mattress dumped on the side of a highway in Orange County. The Supreme Court had just selected George W. Bush as president after the contested 2000 election. Incensed, Freeway Blogger pushed the mattress up against a tree and spray-painted '1776-2000: RIP' across the yellow stains.
"'What shocked me is that even as thousands of cars drove past it each day, the sign stayed up for a week,' he says. 'Suddenly I found my voice.'
"Since the 2000 election, 9/11, and the U.S. military's invasion of two countries, Freeway Blogger has refined the crude mattress approach to a choreographed dance of message transmission using recycled cardboard, paint, and reconnaissance. 
"'Freeway blogging requires a sense of rhetoric, art, science, demographics, and sneakiness,' he tells me."
Yes, I suppose it does. If this sort of thing catches on, well...
An underground artist who used the streets of the Fan District in the early 1980's as his canvas/kiosk, Art Riot, would certainly get a kick out of this story, if he's still around.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Castro: We aren't afraid...
Of all the silly things, petty things, the Bush administration has done during its reign here’s one that was as unnecessary as it gets. Then again, when it comes to striking a pose to throw a bone to one of its rabid constituencies, the White House rarely misses the chance. So, Cuba's baseball team is being prevented by Bush's Treasury Dept. from playing in Major League Baseball’s World Classic, set to begin in March.One must assume it's being done to protect the National Pastime from the spread of communism. But if its about being communists, what about China, one of the other national teams in the tournament? Then again, what chance does China stand in the field? Hmm...
Which, of course, has given the old southpaw himself, Fidel Castro, another opportunity to crack wise, hoping to make America look foolish, even cowardly. This AP story will catch you up on what remains of the Cold War in some minds.
"'...We aren't afraid of anything,' Castro said in a wide-ranging speech late Tuesday. 'It's very difficult to compete against us in any area ... not even in baseball do they want to compete with Cuba.'
"Castro's comments appeared to refer to the inaugural World Classic, a 16-team tournament scheduled for March 3-20 and organized by Major League Baseball and its players' union. The U.S. Treasury Department last month denied MLB's application for Cuba to play its scheduled first-round games in Puerto Rico, a U.S. territory. Later rounds are to be played on the U.S. mainland."
Castro photo from latinamericanstudies.org
Richmond Moving Image Co-op News
The following notice about events and deadlines came in from Richmond Moving Image Co-op poobah James Parrish:
Tickets for individual films are available for purchase only at the door 30 minutes before each show on a first come, first served basis for $10 each. All day passes ($25 each) are available for purchase at Chop Suey Books and Video Fan (check or cash only) and, if any are left, at the door the day of the festival.
James River Film Festival Call for Entries Deadline -- January 20
Friday, Jan. 20, is the deadline for entries to the annual James River Film Festival juried competition for short films. Submission guidelines and entry form are available at RMIC's web site. Get those films in! Finalists will be shown during the festival, March 20-26, and cash awards will be announced at the screening.3rd Italian Film and Food Festival -- Saturday, January 28
RMIC and Mamma 'Zu present the 3rd Italian Film and Food Festival on Saturday, Jan. 28 at Plant Zero Art Center. Four films will be screened throughout the day accompanied by an Italian buffet (included in the ticket price) prepared by Mamma 'Zu. Beverages extra. This year's lineup includes: Roberto Rossellini's Viaggio in Italia (Voyage to Italy) at 10 a.m., Gianni Amelio's Lamerica at 1 p.m., Paolo and Vittorio Taviani's La Notte di San Lorenzo (The Night of San Lorenzo, Night of the Shooting Starts) at 4 p.m. and Michelangelo Antonioni's L'Eclisse (The Eclipse) at 7:30 p.m. All films will be presented in Italian with English subtitles.Tickets for individual films are available for purchase only at the door 30 minutes before each show on a first come, first served basis for $10 each. All day passes ($25 each) are available for purchase at Chop Suey Books and Video Fan (check or cash only) and, if any are left, at the door the day of the festival.
Webb Defends Murtha in OpEd
In a N.Y. Times OpEd, “Purple Heartbreakers,” combat veteran and former Secretary of the Navy James Webb responds vigorously to the Bush administration’s tactics, which have used shameless surrogates to torpedo the character and honor of his fellow Vietnam vets when they opposed the president's policies. Webb cited John McCain, Max Cleland, John Kerry and now John Murtha as examples.“...Military people past and present have good reason to wonder if the current administration truly values their service beyond its immediate effect on its battlefield of choice. The casting of suspicion and doubt about the actions of veterans who have run against President Bush or opposed his policies has been a constant theme of his career. This pattern of denigrating the service of those with whom they disagree risks cheapening the public's appreciation of what it means to serve, and in the long term may hurt the Republicans themselves.”
Lowell Feld at Raising Kaine offers some of his thoughts on the potential senatorial candidacy of James Webb, as well as some background. Webb’s momentum for a run against Sen. George Allen in November seems to be picking up.
WRIR-FM One-Year-Old
The following notice came in from WRIR, Richmond's Indie radio station:
WRIR [97.3 FM], has been on the air for a year. To mark the occasion the local community radio station is throwing a party on Feb. 3 at The Renaissance (formerly The Cornerstone), 107 W. Broad St. The event, which coincides with the next First Fridays Art Walk, is open to the public from 7 p.m. to midnight.
Local bands Special Ed and the Short Bus, VCR, The Cheap Seats and Hotel X will be on hand for the celebration. The party also marks an opportunity for the public to meet the people behind the microphones who give WRIR its truly distinctive on-air voice. A $5.00 donation is suggested and all proceeds will go to help fund the station’s programming and operational costs. WRIR is a nonprofit, all volunteer-operated radio project of the Virginia Center for Public Press.
WRIR [97.3 FM], has been on the air for a year. To mark the occasion the local community radio station is throwing a party on Feb. 3 at The Renaissance (formerly The Cornerstone), 107 W. Broad St. The event, which coincides with the next First Fridays Art Walk, is open to the public from 7 p.m. to midnight.
Local bands Special Ed and the Short Bus, VCR, The Cheap Seats and Hotel X will be on hand for the celebration. The party also marks an opportunity for the public to meet the people behind the microphones who give WRIR its truly distinctive on-air voice. A $5.00 donation is suggested and all proceeds will go to help fund the station’s programming and operational costs. WRIR is a nonprofit, all volunteer-operated radio project of the Virginia Center for Public Press.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
White House: Bombing Al Jazeera ‘Outlandish’
The Bush White House is sticking to its story -- denying the troubling accusation that it once floated a plan to bomb Al Jazeera, the TV station in Qatar, by the desk of British Prime Minister Tony Blair. Now a Reuters story says that a freedom of information request from a journalist has started the clock ticking on the possible exposure of a critical document.
“...Downing Street will respond to the request -- made on Monday by Al Jazeera lawyers under Britain's freedom of information laws -- within 21 days, the spokesman said. A British newspaper reported last year that the memo of a Blair-Bush meeting in April 2004 detailed a proposal by Bush to bomb Al Jazeera but said Blair had dissuaded him. The story was dismissed as ‘outlandish’ by the White House and Blair denied receiving details of any such U.S. proposal.”
At this writing the White House remains mum on whether it ever considered bombing National Public Radio, The Daily Show, The Washington Post, Al Franken’s keyboard, Michael Moore’s belly, or SLANTblog's supply of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
“...Downing Street will respond to the request -- made on Monday by Al Jazeera lawyers under Britain's freedom of information laws -- within 21 days, the spokesman said. A British newspaper reported last year that the memo of a Blair-Bush meeting in April 2004 detailed a proposal by Bush to bomb Al Jazeera but said Blair had dissuaded him. The story was dismissed as ‘outlandish’ by the White House and Blair denied receiving details of any such U.S. proposal.”
At this writing the White House remains mum on whether it ever considered bombing National Public Radio, The Daily Show, The Washington Post, Al Franken’s keyboard, Michael Moore’s belly, or SLANTblog's supply of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Marrs Diatribe Letter Mocked
Snoopy at River City Rapids reprints a lowbrow diatribe in the format of a letter-to-the-editor from former delegate Brad Marrs -- a cultural conservative from the loon wing of the Republican party -- which appeared in Tuesday’s Richmond Times-Dispatch. Snoopy also tosses a few choice words of his own at the embittered Marrs, who obviously still just doesn’t get it:
“...I'd like to find the 42 people who put Katherine Waddell over the top against Mr. Marrs and buy them all drinks.”
Today’s Marrs letter is almost funny, in a dark way. His view of the RT-D as a traitor to his ilk's backward thinking is rich. Yet I wonder how many citizens’ thinking does his letter still speak for? How many embarrassed Republicans are still defending his mean spirit? In 1956, or '66 the spirit of the Marrs letter probably would have spoken for many. Today, in supposedly more enlightened times, we hope it would speak for a lesser percentage of everyday people.
But since Marrs lost by only 42 votes, I wonder...
“...I'd like to find the 42 people who put Katherine Waddell over the top against Mr. Marrs and buy them all drinks.”
Today’s Marrs letter is almost funny, in a dark way. His view of the RT-D as a traitor to his ilk's backward thinking is rich. Yet I wonder how many citizens’ thinking does his letter still speak for? How many embarrassed Republicans are still defending his mean spirit? In 1956, or '66 the spirit of the Marrs letter probably would have spoken for many. Today, in supposedly more enlightened times, we hope it would speak for a lesser percentage of everyday people.
But since Marrs lost by only 42 votes, I wonder...
Drinking Liberally
Drinking Liberally is said to have begun in New York City sometime in May of 2003. Anyway, that’s what is remembered from the event by those who think they were there. Now it is a national political/social club with 127 chapters in 40 states. Its slogan? “Promoting democracy one pint at a time.”According to its web site Drinking Liberally is this: “An informal, inclusive Democratic drinking club. Raise your spirits while you raise your glass, and share ideas while you share a pitcher. Drinking Liberally gives like-minded, left-leaning individuals a place to talk politics. You don't need to be a policy expert and this isn't a book club -- just come and learn from peers, trade jokes, vent frustration and hang out in an environment where it's not taboo to talk politics.”
Now this from the reanimated Richmond chapter: “It's been a long time coming, but we are re-launching Drinking Liberally in Richmond, Virginia."
The next meeting for DL in Richmond is at Richbrau Brewing Co., in Shockoe Slip, Thurs., Jan. 26, beginning at 6:30 p.m.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Kaine, First Post-Katrina Governor
By F. T. Rea
Tim Kaine’s resounding victory on Nov. 8 put smiles on a lot of faces in Richmond's Fan District on the sunny morning after the election. Happy people on the street were waving and giving thumbs-up signs to one another like the Redskins had beaten the Cowboys, or perhaps a particularly tedious spell of bad weather just ended. For many Democrats, coast-to-coast, that morning’s headlines were probably the brightest sign they’d seen in a long time. It says here Kaine’s win also sent a clear message to America’s politicians of every stripe -- wise up, like it or not, we are all living in a post-Katrina environment.
Gov. Tim Kaine
Illustration by F. T. Rea
It took almost four whole years for an event of sufficient impact to jostle the collective national psyche enough to allow for turning the page on the shock and anger of 9/11. Hurricane Katrina has done it. Nobody is forgetting 9/11's tragedy but putting it into its historical perspective is healthy and useful. Obviously, there's a big difference between a four-pronged terror attack that kills thousands and violent forces of nature that do the same. Yet the nightmare for those unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the worst of times can be much the same. The sense of helplessness -- rampant anxiety -- shared by all for some time after such catastrophes has similarities, too.
After absorbing the shock and anger that Katrina set loose on the Gulf Coast Americans now have a fresh perspective on how not to prepare for, and deal with, calamities.
In the numbing smoke-filled air of Ground Zero and the panic of the anthrax scare Republicans sought and gained power. In the fearful public’s eye they seemed better suited to deal with the situation than did the Democrats. Plus, people naturally rallied around their president. Consequently, the political pendulum suddenly swung to the right, even further than many of us thought possible. In the fours years since those hijackings and exploding buildings, in truth, the Bush administration's response has not worked out all that well on any front. Here we got a fear color code, now stuck on yellow. Abroad, it has created an unfolding disaster in Iraq with no end in sight.
There's plenty more but to cut to the chase -- it took a hurricane blowing into New Orleans to truly reveal what a bad joke the Bush administration’s signature Homeland Security Department was -- “Brownie, you’re doing a heck of a job.”
Out of nowhere it was like an instant civics lesson for the whole country -- hey, sometimes only the government can fix it, or it doesn't get fixed. Opportunists who’ve been getting elected by telling us how “government can’t solve the problem because it is the problem,” don’t necessarily know much about how to make government's gears work smoothly when the need arises. In a crisis they can be useless.
After years of slogans from tax-cutting, chest-beating Republicans, claiming to be devout fiscal conservatives and robust can-do guys, in the real world -- post-Katrina -- it's turned out some aren't much more than poseurs. So, perhaps more than anything Jerry Kilgore or Tim Kaine ever said on the stump, the muddy horror show in New Orleans set up the day for a practical, upbeat Democrat to win in Virginia, two months later.
Moreover, Kaine is an unapologetic believer in the power of government to improve the lives of the people it serves. To his credit, Kaine has always been that sort of guy, he never denied it. So, it’s quite fitting that he should be the first to benefit from the pendulum starting to return from its wild swing to the right.
As far as how much of a boost Kaine’s win will give to Mark Warner’s presidential bandwagon, who knows? It certainly can’t hurt him. Other than buffing up Warner's image as a winner on the national stage, what does Kaine's victory in Virginia mean for the rest of the nation?
Smile, the post-Katrina pendulum swing has just started.
Meanwhile, in this commonwealth, Virginians are generally more optimistic about the future. They have seen a state government solve big problems, or at least reverse negative momentum; they know it can be done. That speaks well for the futures of both Warner and Kaine.
Tim Kaine’s resounding victory on Nov. 8 put smiles on a lot of faces in Richmond's Fan District on the sunny morning after the election. Happy people on the street were waving and giving thumbs-up signs to one another like the Redskins had beaten the Cowboys, or perhaps a particularly tedious spell of bad weather just ended. For many Democrats, coast-to-coast, that morning’s headlines were probably the brightest sign they’d seen in a long time. It says here Kaine’s win also sent a clear message to America’s politicians of every stripe -- wise up, like it or not, we are all living in a post-Katrina environment.
Gov. Tim KaineIllustration by F. T. Rea
After absorbing the shock and anger that Katrina set loose on the Gulf Coast Americans now have a fresh perspective on how not to prepare for, and deal with, calamities.
In the numbing smoke-filled air of Ground Zero and the panic of the anthrax scare Republicans sought and gained power. In the fearful public’s eye they seemed better suited to deal with the situation than did the Democrats. Plus, people naturally rallied around their president. Consequently, the political pendulum suddenly swung to the right, even further than many of us thought possible. In the fours years since those hijackings and exploding buildings, in truth, the Bush administration's response has not worked out all that well on any front. Here we got a fear color code, now stuck on yellow. Abroad, it has created an unfolding disaster in Iraq with no end in sight.
There's plenty more but to cut to the chase -- it took a hurricane blowing into New Orleans to truly reveal what a bad joke the Bush administration’s signature Homeland Security Department was -- “Brownie, you’re doing a heck of a job.”
Out of nowhere it was like an instant civics lesson for the whole country -- hey, sometimes only the government can fix it, or it doesn't get fixed. Opportunists who’ve been getting elected by telling us how “government can’t solve the problem because it is the problem,” don’t necessarily know much about how to make government's gears work smoothly when the need arises. In a crisis they can be useless.
After years of slogans from tax-cutting, chest-beating Republicans, claiming to be devout fiscal conservatives and robust can-do guys, in the real world -- post-Katrina -- it's turned out some aren't much more than poseurs. So, perhaps more than anything Jerry Kilgore or Tim Kaine ever said on the stump, the muddy horror show in New Orleans set up the day for a practical, upbeat Democrat to win in Virginia, two months later.
Moreover, Kaine is an unapologetic believer in the power of government to improve the lives of the people it serves. To his credit, Kaine has always been that sort of guy, he never denied it. So, it’s quite fitting that he should be the first to benefit from the pendulum starting to return from its wild swing to the right.
As far as how much of a boost Kaine’s win will give to Mark Warner’s presidential bandwagon, who knows? It certainly can’t hurt him. Other than buffing up Warner's image as a winner on the national stage, what does Kaine's victory in Virginia mean for the rest of the nation?
Smile, the post-Katrina pendulum swing has just started.
Meanwhile, in this commonwealth, Virginians are generally more optimistic about the future. They have seen a state government solve big problems, or at least reverse negative momentum; they know it can be done. That speaks well for the futures of both Warner and Kaine.
-- 30 --
Update (Jan. 19, 1:30 p.m.): The Washington Post reports Virginia's Gov. Tim Kaine will offer the Democrats' response to President Bush's Jan. 31st State of the Union Address.
Friday, January 13, 2006
The Big Stretch
by F. T. Rea
The prototype was assembled during a lull in seventh grade shop class. After tying some 15 rubber bands together to make a chain a collaborator held one end of the contraption, as I stepped back to stretch it out for a test. Squinting to sight along the taut line to take aim, finally, I let go. The whole thing gathered itself and shot past the holder.
The released tip smartly struck a target several feet beyond the holder. While the satisfaction I felt was a rush, the encouragement from the boys who witnessed that launching felt transforming. Through a pleasant sequence of trial-and-error experiments, it was determined how to best maximize distance and accuracy. Once guys across the room were getting popped with the bitter end of my brainchild -- dubbed the Stretch -- the spitballs that routinely flew around classrooms in 1960 at Albert H. Hill junior high were strictly old news.
The following morning, uncharacteristically, I appeared on the schoolyard an hour before the first bell. Inside a brown paper bag I had with me an updated version of the previous day’s invention. It was some 60 links long -- the Big Stretch.
Soon boys were shoving one another aside just to act as holders. Most of the time I did the shooting. Occasionally, one of the guys from my inner circle was permitted to be the shooter. As the wonder whizzed by it made such a splendid noise that just standing close by the holder was a thrill, too. On the asphalt playground behind the yellow brick school building an enthusiastic throng cheered each flight.
The Big Stretch went on to make an appearance at an afternoon football game, where its operators established to the delight of the audience that cheerleaders could be zapped on their bouncing butts with impunity from more than 25 yards away. After a couple of days of demonstrations around the neighborhood and at Willow Lawn shopping center, again, I significantly lengthened the chain of rubber bands.
But the new version -- about 100 rubber bands long -- proved too heavy for its own good. It was not as accurate or powerful as the previous model. Then came the morning a couple of beefy ninth-grade football players weren’t content with taking a single turn with the new Big Stretch. Although there was a line behind them they demanded another go.
Surrounded by devotees of the Big Stretch, I stood my ground and refused. But my entourage -- mostly fair weather friends -- was useless in a pinch. Faced with no good options, I fled with my claim-to-fame in hand. In short order I was cornered and pounded until the determined thieves got the loot they wanted. They fooled around for a while trying to hit their buddies with it. Eventually, several rubber bands broke and the Big Stretch was literally pulled to pieces and scattered.
By then my nose had stopped bleeding, so, I gathered my dignity and shrugged off the whole affair, as best I could. I didn’t choose to make another version of the Big Stretch. A few other kids copied it, but nobody seemed to care. Just as abruptly as it had gotten underway, the connected-rubber-band craze ran out of gas. It was over.
At that time the slang meaning of "cool" had an underground cachet which has been stretched out of shape since. We’re told the concept of cool, and the term itself, seeped out of the early bebop scene in Manhattan in the ‘40s. That may be, but to me the same delightful sense of spontaneity and understated defiance seems abundantly evident in forms of expression that predate the Dizzy Gillespie/Thelonious Monk era at Minton’s, on 118th Street.
Wasn’t that Round Table scene at the Algonquin Hotel, back in the ‘20s, something akin to cool? If Dorothy Parker wasn’t cool, who the hell was? And, in the decades that preceded the advent of bebop jazz, surely modern art -- with its cubism, surrealism, constructivism, and so forth -- was laying down some of the rules for what became known as cool.
Cool’s zenith had probably been passed by the time I became enamored with the Beats, via national magazines. Widespread exposure and cool were more or less incompatible. Significantly, cool -- with its ability to be flippant and profound in the same gesture -- rose and fell without the encouragement of the ruling class. Underdogs invented cool out of thin air. It was a style that was beyond what money could buy.
The artful grasping of a moment’s unique truth was cool. However, just as the one-time-only perfect notes blown in a jam session can’t be duplicated, authentic cool was difficult to harness; even more difficult to mass-produce.
By the ‘70s, the mobs of hippies attuned to stadium Rock ‘n’ Roll shrugged nothing off. Cool was probably too subtle for them to appreciate. The Disco craze ignored cool. Punk Rockers searched for it in all the wrong places, then caught a buzz and gave up.
Eventually, in targeting self-absorbed baby boomers as a market, Madison Avenue promoted everything under the sun -- including schmaltz, and worse -- as cool. The expression subsequently lost its moorings and dissolved into the soup of mainstream vernacular. Time tends to stretch slang expressions thin as they are assimilated; pronunciations and definitions come and go. Now people say, "ku-ul," simply to express ordinary approval of routine things.
The process of becoming cool, then popular, pulled the Big Stretch to pieces. Once the experimental aspect of it was over it got to be just another showoff gimmick, which was less-than-cool, even to seventh-graders in the know.
The prototype was assembled during a lull in seventh grade shop class. After tying some 15 rubber bands together to make a chain a collaborator held one end of the contraption, as I stepped back to stretch it out for a test. Squinting to sight along the taut line to take aim, finally, I let go. The whole thing gathered itself and shot past the holder.
The released tip smartly struck a target several feet beyond the holder. While the satisfaction I felt was a rush, the encouragement from the boys who witnessed that launching felt transforming. Through a pleasant sequence of trial-and-error experiments, it was determined how to best maximize distance and accuracy. Once guys across the room were getting popped with the bitter end of my brainchild -- dubbed the Stretch -- the spitballs that routinely flew around classrooms in 1960 at Albert H. Hill junior high were strictly old news.
The following morning, uncharacteristically, I appeared on the schoolyard an hour before the first bell. Inside a brown paper bag I had with me an updated version of the previous day’s invention. It was some 60 links long -- the Big Stretch.
Soon boys were shoving one another aside just to act as holders. Most of the time I did the shooting. Occasionally, one of the guys from my inner circle was permitted to be the shooter. As the wonder whizzed by it made such a splendid noise that just standing close by the holder was a thrill, too. On the asphalt playground behind the yellow brick school building an enthusiastic throng cheered each flight.
The Big Stretch went on to make an appearance at an afternoon football game, where its operators established to the delight of the audience that cheerleaders could be zapped on their bouncing butts with impunity from more than 25 yards away. After a couple of days of demonstrations around the neighborhood and at Willow Lawn shopping center, again, I significantly lengthened the chain of rubber bands.
But the new version -- about 100 rubber bands long -- proved too heavy for its own good. It was not as accurate or powerful as the previous model. Then came the morning a couple of beefy ninth-grade football players weren’t content with taking a single turn with the new Big Stretch. Although there was a line behind them they demanded another go.
Surrounded by devotees of the Big Stretch, I stood my ground and refused. But my entourage -- mostly fair weather friends -- was useless in a pinch. Faced with no good options, I fled with my claim-to-fame in hand. In short order I was cornered and pounded until the determined thieves got the loot they wanted. They fooled around for a while trying to hit their buddies with it. Eventually, several rubber bands broke and the Big Stretch was literally pulled to pieces and scattered.
By then my nose had stopped bleeding, so, I gathered my dignity and shrugged off the whole affair, as best I could. I didn’t choose to make another version of the Big Stretch. A few other kids copied it, but nobody seemed to care. Just as abruptly as it had gotten underway, the connected-rubber-band craze ran out of gas. It was over.
At that time the slang meaning of "cool" had an underground cachet which has been stretched out of shape since. We’re told the concept of cool, and the term itself, seeped out of the early bebop scene in Manhattan in the ‘40s. That may be, but to me the same delightful sense of spontaneity and understated defiance seems abundantly evident in forms of expression that predate the Dizzy Gillespie/Thelonious Monk era at Minton’s, on 118th Street.
Wasn’t that Round Table scene at the Algonquin Hotel, back in the ‘20s, something akin to cool? If Dorothy Parker wasn’t cool, who the hell was? And, in the decades that preceded the advent of bebop jazz, surely modern art -- with its cubism, surrealism, constructivism, and so forth -- was laying down some of the rules for what became known as cool.
Cool’s zenith had probably been passed by the time I became enamored with the Beats, via national magazines. Widespread exposure and cool were more or less incompatible. Significantly, cool -- with its ability to be flippant and profound in the same gesture -- rose and fell without the encouragement of the ruling class. Underdogs invented cool out of thin air. It was a style that was beyond what money could buy.
The artful grasping of a moment’s unique truth was cool. However, just as the one-time-only perfect notes blown in a jam session can’t be duplicated, authentic cool was difficult to harness; even more difficult to mass-produce.
By the ‘70s, the mobs of hippies attuned to stadium Rock ‘n’ Roll shrugged nothing off. Cool was probably too subtle for them to appreciate. The Disco craze ignored cool. Punk Rockers searched for it in all the wrong places, then caught a buzz and gave up.
Eventually, in targeting self-absorbed baby boomers as a market, Madison Avenue promoted everything under the sun -- including schmaltz, and worse -- as cool. The expression subsequently lost its moorings and dissolved into the soup of mainstream vernacular. Time tends to stretch slang expressions thin as they are assimilated; pronunciations and definitions come and go. Now people say, "ku-ul," simply to express ordinary approval of routine things.
The process of becoming cool, then popular, pulled the Big Stretch to pieces. Once the experimental aspect of it was over it got to be just another showoff gimmick, which was less-than-cool, even to seventh-graders in the know.
-- 30 --
Beaujon's Bryan Harvey Interview
At Save Richmond, Andrew Beaujon's 2004 interview with Bryan Harvey provides good insight into the reasons for House of Freaks, in the first place, as well as reasons for the two-man band's inability to make a bigger splash in the long run.
"...But also the production values. Johnny [Hott] and I were trying for a much more primitive sound. We were trying to go for this front-porch recording sound that we heard in the Son House records. We wanted it to sound like an old blues record. We were working at a time when the industry was still kind of in the new wave days -- big reverb, big drum sound. That sort of mid-'80s sound. We kept fighting the same old battles: 'You see this expensive rack of equipment? Turn it off.' And they'd turn down maybe half a notch. We'd say, 'Keep going. Keep going.' Finally you just get tired of fighting those battles. Afterwards, the lo-fi ethic became a little bit more fashionable."
"...But also the production values. Johnny [Hott] and I were trying for a much more primitive sound. We were trying to go for this front-porch recording sound that we heard in the Son House records. We wanted it to sound like an old blues record. We were working at a time when the industry was still kind of in the new wave days -- big reverb, big drum sound. That sort of mid-'80s sound. We kept fighting the same old battles: 'You see this expensive rack of equipment? Turn it off.' And they'd turn down maybe half a notch. We'd say, 'Keep going. Keep going.' Finally you just get tired of fighting those battles. Afterwards, the lo-fi ethic became a little bit more fashionable."
Live Music Notes
More notices about live music have come in from friends:
From Brad Tucker: The Taters (with Jim Wark) will be at Poe's Pub tonight (Friday, Jan. 13).
From Page Wilson: On Sat., Jan. 14, Page Wilson with Reckless Abandon (Chris Fuller, Jay Gillespie, Charles Arthur, and Jim Skelding) will be at Ashland Coffee & Tea.
From Brad Tucker: The Taters (with Jim Wark) will be at Poe's Pub tonight (Friday, Jan. 13).
From Page Wilson: On Sat., Jan. 14, Page Wilson with Reckless Abandon (Chris Fuller, Jay Gillespie, Charles Arthur, and Jim Skelding) will be at Ashland Coffee & Tea.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Divine Coincidence?
Boy, oh boy, you know old Pat Roberston is twitching up a storm down in his plush Tidewater television studio. He’s looking at the headlines, too -- hey, that crazy guy who tried to assassinate the Pope (in 1981), who is a Turk, has just been let out of jail. THAT, while the Bird Flu is bubbling to a boil in Turkey, a whole damn country named after what else? -- a bird!So far Robertson has yet to weigh in on this obvious case of divine coincidence. However, he did issue an explanation for his recent controversial statements about two heads of state:
"OK, heh, heh, maybe I should've suggested Chavez just needed to be slapped around, a little bit," said Robertson. "But on Sharon, hey, the stroke was strictly God's idea. When He asked me what to do about Sharon turning into a wuss, well, I said maybe give him a ba-a-ad sinus headache, scout's honor. Hey, God does the smiting, not me!"
Note: The above attempt at satirical humor, altered photo included, is not meant to scare anyone. Please don’t take it seriously, unless you must.
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