Well, you knew this was coming: there’s been at least one heat-related death in King County, as reported by the Seattle Times. In nearby Tacoma, another man’s death has also been attributed to the ungodly heat that has gone unmitigated here by any real air conditioning.
County officials wring their hands & spout the usual blather about avoiding the direct sun & staying hydrated. They’ve opened several “cooling centers” in King County where you can go during the day primarily; but then you have to go home to your little heat box & try to pass the night somehow.
They’re talking a break in the heat wave today, & it was indeed more temperate as I drove in to work.
Of course “break” is relative: temps are forecast to be in the high 80s. & still no AC.
This place is basically a big bowl of suck. Melted suck.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Sleepless again
Folks--it's 106 degrees & my house has no AC. I'm headed into my third night of no sleep.
Definitely too hot to post.
Pray for a break in the weather.
Definitely too hot to post.
Pray for a break in the weather.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Sleepless in Seattle
We’re having a heatwave out here, & it’s wiping me out. All this week temps are in the 90s & up to 100.
Hey, chick, you say—it’s summer, whaddaya expect?
What I expect is some semblance of civilization in the form of air conditioning & that is conspicuous by its absence in this berg. The cheap-ass rationale is that it doesn’t get hot enough here to warrant installing it in businesses or residences.
Evidently, despite Seattlites’ pretentions to being the very icons of eco-guardianship, they haven’t heard of global warming. Last year during the week I moved into the Rambler it was over 90 degrees for ten days; no AC there, either.
In Virginia for at least the past 15 years no builder would dream of putting up a house without central air. Even my home, built in the 70s, had it. &, boy, am I jonesing for it now. I got about four hours of fitful sleep last night, & don’t have any reasonable prospect of more through Thursday at least.
I suppose this balances out December when you had to go in to work because that building had power & heat, & your house didn’t.
How many ways can this place blow?
Hey, chick, you say—it’s summer, whaddaya expect?
What I expect is some semblance of civilization in the form of air conditioning & that is conspicuous by its absence in this berg. The cheap-ass rationale is that it doesn’t get hot enough here to warrant installing it in businesses or residences.
Evidently, despite Seattlites’ pretentions to being the very icons of eco-guardianship, they haven’t heard of global warming. Last year during the week I moved into the Rambler it was over 90 degrees for ten days; no AC there, either.
In Virginia for at least the past 15 years no builder would dream of putting up a house without central air. Even my home, built in the 70s, had it. &, boy, am I jonesing for it now. I got about four hours of fitful sleep last night, & don’t have any reasonable prospect of more through Thursday at least.
I suppose this balances out December when you had to go in to work because that building had power & heat, & your house didn’t.
How many ways can this place blow?
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Palin, chapter 2
The Republican bimbo-in-chief has cut her losses & run from the now-mundane business of fulfilling her obligations as governor of Alaska. As she promised on 3 July, Sarah Palin made one last round of barnstorming the state & public picnics & then walked off into the metaphoric sunset on Sunday.
Too bad Walt Disney’s not around to stage those events—I have this vision of Pollyana’s town fair.
La Palin has said that it’s a far, far better thing she does than she’s ever done before (no, not in those words; literature’s not her thing), because if she didn’t leave now, 18 months before her term ends, Alaska would be burdened with a lame duck governor!
Now, politics is not my thing, but isn’t that, you know, part of the whole game? Being a leader the entire term you were elected to? If she were to be, God forbid, elected to higher office, would she bag the last couple of years there, too?
Of course, she’s got Other Things on her mind—conning supporters into shelling out for her various legal defense actions, offering to campaign on behalf of Republican candidates around the country (office not specified), let a ghost writer pen her autobiography.
Jury’s still out on what her own political plans are. Well, we know what her aspirations are; whether the Republican party will remain in a state of fugue & support her remains to be seen.
What I want to know is: what happened to that $100,000 Neiman-Marcus wardrobe the ‘Pubs bought for her?
Too bad Walt Disney’s not around to stage those events—I have this vision of Pollyana’s town fair.
La Palin has said that it’s a far, far better thing she does than she’s ever done before (no, not in those words; literature’s not her thing), because if she didn’t leave now, 18 months before her term ends, Alaska would be burdened with a lame duck governor!
Now, politics is not my thing, but isn’t that, you know, part of the whole game? Being a leader the entire term you were elected to? If she were to be, God forbid, elected to higher office, would she bag the last couple of years there, too?
Of course, she’s got Other Things on her mind—conning supporters into shelling out for her various legal defense actions, offering to campaign on behalf of Republican candidates around the country (office not specified), let a ghost writer pen her autobiography.
Jury’s still out on what her own political plans are. Well, we know what her aspirations are; whether the Republican party will remain in a state of fugue & support her remains to be seen.
What I want to know is: what happened to that $100,000 Neiman-Marcus wardrobe the ‘Pubs bought for her?
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Property is theft
Uh-oh.
I checked my Facebook page to find a neighbor from my old cluster in Virginia saying she “is not happy with all the dirty hippies moving in two doors down. Looks like they've been listenin to Mick Jagger music and bad-mouthin their country.”
Seems the people who bought my house—we knew up front that they were buying it for investment property, to rent it out—have already leased it, & to lowlifes.
I’m sorry about that because one property owner in the cluster made a business out of renting his house to trailer trash. There was one set of tenants there for a few years that seemed to be some sort of group home. I mean one middle-aged white guy & a collection of Gen-Texts in succession, parking their junkers in other people’s parking slots, attracting visits from the cops & generally lowering property values.
When they finally moved out the owner literally stripped the place down to the studs because of all the damage.
Then he turned around & rented it to the Clampetts—a clan of Ozarkian proportions & class who immediately let their spawn turn the landscaped front yard into a sea of mud.
So apologies to all my neighbors, but welcome to capitalism.
& I’m still glad that property’s off my hands, if not entirely off my conscience.
I checked my Facebook page to find a neighbor from my old cluster in Virginia saying she “is not happy with all the dirty hippies moving in two doors down. Looks like they've been listenin to Mick Jagger music and bad-mouthin their country.”
Seems the people who bought my house—we knew up front that they were buying it for investment property, to rent it out—have already leased it, & to lowlifes.
I’m sorry about that because one property owner in the cluster made a business out of renting his house to trailer trash. There was one set of tenants there for a few years that seemed to be some sort of group home. I mean one middle-aged white guy & a collection of Gen-Texts in succession, parking their junkers in other people’s parking slots, attracting visits from the cops & generally lowering property values.
When they finally moved out the owner literally stripped the place down to the studs because of all the damage.
Then he turned around & rented it to the Clampetts—a clan of Ozarkian proportions & class who immediately let their spawn turn the landscaped front yard into a sea of mud.
So apologies to all my neighbors, but welcome to capitalism.
& I’m still glad that property’s off my hands, if not entirely off my conscience.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Sign of the Times, chapter 2
Okay, the recession has officially struck beyond the living: the LA Times reports that times are so tough people are leaving the bodies of their relatives with county morgues to be cremated on the public nickel.
In LA what this amounts to is paying $352 for collecting the ashes from the coroner after an unclaimed body is cremated. As opposed to $466 for collecting them from the morgue.
(Apparently they’re different entities. Who knew?)
To put this into perspective, claiming a body from the LA county coroner will set you back $200. Then there’s the $1000 for cremation in a private facility or a minimum of $7300 for the most basic of funerals & burials.
Personally, while I find it fascinating to visit graveyards, read the headstones & imagine the lives represented there, I’m not particularly interested in what happens to the body once the anima has departed. But I understand that I’m in the minority in this regard, & that having to decide between honoring your loved one in a way suitable to your beliefs or buying food & paying the rent is a heart-rending choice no one in this country should be forced to make.
So I’m sure these people will take comfort in the good news that the major banks whose crack-brained lending practices caused this whole mess have reported such good financial news that they’re able once again to splash out on extravagant corporate jollies & obscenely large bonuses for management.
(At least the Times had the grace not to serve up the ads for caskets on this story’s that appeared in the report about Farrah Fawcett's death.)
In LA what this amounts to is paying $352 for collecting the ashes from the coroner after an unclaimed body is cremated. As opposed to $466 for collecting them from the morgue.
(Apparently they’re different entities. Who knew?)
To put this into perspective, claiming a body from the LA county coroner will set you back $200. Then there’s the $1000 for cremation in a private facility or a minimum of $7300 for the most basic of funerals & burials.
Personally, while I find it fascinating to visit graveyards, read the headstones & imagine the lives represented there, I’m not particularly interested in what happens to the body once the anima has departed. But I understand that I’m in the minority in this regard, & that having to decide between honoring your loved one in a way suitable to your beliefs or buying food & paying the rent is a heart-rending choice no one in this country should be forced to make.
So I’m sure these people will take comfort in the good news that the major banks whose crack-brained lending practices caused this whole mess have reported such good financial news that they’re able once again to splash out on extravagant corporate jollies & obscenely large bonuses for management.
(At least the Times had the grace not to serve up the ads for caskets on this story’s that appeared in the report about Farrah Fawcett's death.)
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Jerks in the office
Joe Queenan takes on the phenomenon of the office jerk in the WSJ.
While he’s on his typically stylish form, & he’s probably right about people generally not bitching (at least not in the office) about workplace jerks during the recession, he completely underestimates the arrogance of your standard jerk. They’re not holding back, trying to stay below the HR radar; they’re going full bore with their self-promotion, grandiose schemes & backstabbing.
Stupid or not, recession or not, they are as focused as ever on making a name for themselves & leaving a trail of bodies behind wherever they go. There is no interruption in the havoc they wreak.
At least that’s the modus operandi around here.
While he’s on his typically stylish form, & he’s probably right about people generally not bitching (at least not in the office) about workplace jerks during the recession, he completely underestimates the arrogance of your standard jerk. They’re not holding back, trying to stay below the HR radar; they’re going full bore with their self-promotion, grandiose schemes & backstabbing.
Stupid or not, recession or not, they are as focused as ever on making a name for themselves & leaving a trail of bodies behind wherever they go. There is no interruption in the havoc they wreak.
At least that’s the modus operandi around here.
Monday, July 20, 2009
End of an era
The world has lost one of the best newsmen of the last century. Walter Cronkite died at his New York home Friday at age 92.
First for UPI, then for CBS, Cronkite reported the biggest stories of the mid/late 20th century: the Battle of the Bulge, Nuremberg trials, Kennedy assassination, Vietnam, Apollo moon landing, Watergate. He shed light on the world around us without ever inserting himself between it & us.
He was everything Dan Rather wished he could be: measured, objective, intelligent, astute. Most of all, he defined integrity in news reporting. Try to find that anywhere today.
Cronkite set a standard of honesty & trustworthiness from which the news media has been retreating ever since he retired in 1981. Peter Jennings came closest to Cronkite’s level of reportage; when he died four years ago, broadcast news fell completely into the clutches of the corporate bean counters interested only in cutting costs & blown-dried reporters more concerned with the camera angle on their on-camera stand-up than the actual, you know, story.
Try to imagine Cronkite being involved in reporting a story based on unconfirmed documents—the incident that led to Rather leaving CBS Evening News. Or staging of exploding gas tanks that rocked Dateline NBC. In both cases the “reporters” had a story they wanted to tell, & the truth wasn’t going to get in their way.
Moreover, Cronkite knew his job was to report the story, not be it, which is a rare quality in any form of journalism these days, print as well as broadcast or Internet. It’s gone way beyond the mixing of facts & opinion; it’s about thinking you’re more important than the news. That was something that never occurred to Cronkite.
Well, we’re all the poorer this week for his passing. & perhaps a bit more ignorant.
First for UPI, then for CBS, Cronkite reported the biggest stories of the mid/late 20th century: the Battle of the Bulge, Nuremberg trials, Kennedy assassination, Vietnam, Apollo moon landing, Watergate. He shed light on the world around us without ever inserting himself between it & us.
He was everything Dan Rather wished he could be: measured, objective, intelligent, astute. Most of all, he defined integrity in news reporting. Try to find that anywhere today.
Cronkite set a standard of honesty & trustworthiness from which the news media has been retreating ever since he retired in 1981. Peter Jennings came closest to Cronkite’s level of reportage; when he died four years ago, broadcast news fell completely into the clutches of the corporate bean counters interested only in cutting costs & blown-dried reporters more concerned with the camera angle on their on-camera stand-up than the actual, you know, story.
Try to imagine Cronkite being involved in reporting a story based on unconfirmed documents—the incident that led to Rather leaving CBS Evening News. Or staging of exploding gas tanks that rocked Dateline NBC. In both cases the “reporters” had a story they wanted to tell, & the truth wasn’t going to get in their way.
Moreover, Cronkite knew his job was to report the story, not be it, which is a rare quality in any form of journalism these days, print as well as broadcast or Internet. It’s gone way beyond the mixing of facts & opinion; it’s about thinking you’re more important than the news. That was something that never occurred to Cronkite.
Well, we’re all the poorer this week for his passing. & perhaps a bit more ignorant.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Just when you thought it was safe
I’m not going to say that I’m astounded by this story in the WSJ, because I’m an adherent of H.L. Mencken’s dictum that nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public.
Even, evidently, MBAs.
Fortunately, my employer has cancelled the company picnic this year, due to belt-tightening, so I don’t have to lay out a sartorial strategy. But I recall very well a former employer’s sales conference in Cyprus, where the event planners arranged all sorts of group water activities that required swimsuits (or else getting drenched in your civvies).
I went off to see the antiquities. Much preferable to viewing my Euro colleagues in the near-buff. & soaked.
As it was, they were plastered pretty much all the time. Which is probably the case at these company outings described by the Journal reporter.
At any rate, I offer it as something for you to take under consideration in your climb up the corporate ladder.
Even, evidently, MBAs.
Fortunately, my employer has cancelled the company picnic this year, due to belt-tightening, so I don’t have to lay out a sartorial strategy. But I recall very well a former employer’s sales conference in Cyprus, where the event planners arranged all sorts of group water activities that required swimsuits (or else getting drenched in your civvies).
I went off to see the antiquities. Much preferable to viewing my Euro colleagues in the near-buff. & soaked.
As it was, they were plastered pretty much all the time. Which is probably the case at these company outings described by the Journal reporter.
At any rate, I offer it as something for you to take under consideration in your climb up the corporate ladder.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Dulce et decorum est
A letter to the Washington Post brought to the attention of the world Lt. Brian Bradshaw, who was killed in Afghanistan on 25 June. He was 25.
Bradshaw’s parents agreed to the publication of this letter, written by members of the Air National Guard transport crew who flew Bradshaw’s casket out of his deployment base to Bagram.
You can see a photo of Bradshaw at the Post’s Faces of the Fallen site. The Post does the best job of humanizing the Bush administration’s wars of any paper I know. Whenever they amass enough photos of those killed in Iraq and Afghanistan to fill a double full-page spread, they print them in the order of their deaths. (As the names appear on the Vietnam Memorial.)
I think they have enough to print every couple of months, sadly.
The description of Bradshaw’s final trip out of Afghanistan reminds me of a story in Operation Homecoming: Iraq, Afghanistan and the Home Front. The essay is by a Marine colonel who accompanied the body of a 21-year-old Marine killed in Iraq home to his funeral in Wyoming.
It also makes me think of the funeral in the aptly-named town of Comfort, Tex., of Spec. James M. Kiehl, described by his aunt, Vicki Pierce.
You can see Kiehl’s Faces of the Fallen page here.
It’s fitting and proper to keep their faces in our thoughts.
Bradshaw’s parents agreed to the publication of this letter, written by members of the Air National Guard transport crew who flew Bradshaw’s casket out of his deployment base to Bagram.
You can see a photo of Bradshaw at the Post’s Faces of the Fallen site. The Post does the best job of humanizing the Bush administration’s wars of any paper I know. Whenever they amass enough photos of those killed in Iraq and Afghanistan to fill a double full-page spread, they print them in the order of their deaths. (As the names appear on the Vietnam Memorial.)
I think they have enough to print every couple of months, sadly.
The description of Bradshaw’s final trip out of Afghanistan reminds me of a story in Operation Homecoming: Iraq, Afghanistan and the Home Front. The essay is by a Marine colonel who accompanied the body of a 21-year-old Marine killed in Iraq home to his funeral in Wyoming.
It also makes me think of the funeral in the aptly-named town of Comfort, Tex., of Spec. James M. Kiehl, described by his aunt, Vicki Pierce.
You can see Kiehl’s Faces of the Fallen page here.
It’s fitting and proper to keep their faces in our thoughts.
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