Draw Muhammad Day

No artistic skills needed!

Having never missed Draw Muhammad Day in the past, I wanted to make sure that I observed the occasion this year, too. Of course, in my day we used to call it Draw Mohammed Day. Or Draw Mahomet Day.

One loses track.

Bill Donohue is my pen-pal

So many questions he has!

I keep getting mail from Bill Donohue of the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights. It flows into my e-mail in-box in electronic form and into my post office box as hard copy. Bill tries hard to attract my attention and to keep me entertained. It's a thing that we have.

On previous occasions I have mentioned the piquant humor in Bill's role as Catholicism's most public face in the United States. You'd think the Church would have anticipated some downside to being represented in the mass media by a whining, histrionic, and mean-spirited curmudgeon, but perhaps there's a lesson in this. God moves in mysterious ways his blunders to perform.

This week I discovered that Bill wants my opinion on a variety of matters relating to the representation (or misrepresentation) of Catholic values in the news and entertainment media. He began with a series of yes/no questions:

Prior to receiving Bill Donohue's letter to you, were you aware of any other Catholic organization or spokesperson that denounced the episode of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” in which Larry David urinated on a picture of Jesus for the disgusting example of anti-Catholic bigotry in the media that it was?

The media poll was accompanied by an 8-page cover letter from Bill, who wanted to make sure that we would be properly briefed before answering the questions. I'm sure it makes it more likely that the Catholic League will get the answers it wants.

As it happens, I saw the episode of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” in question and found it quite easy to—um—curb my enthusiasm. The humor was too broad and and I didn't find many laughs in it. The pee incident was an unintentional accident occasioned by an excessively effective diuretic medication, not an act of deliberate desecration. Furthermore, I detected nothing that was specifically anti-Catholic about the episode. (Are Catholics supposed to be more likely than Protestants to unwisely hang pictures of Jesus in their bathrooms? My Catholic family never did.)

Prior to receiving Bill Donohue's letter to you, were you aware of any other Catholic organization or spokesperson that exposed the New York Times's refusal to print Archbishop Dolan's indictment of its anti-Catholic bigotry as proof of that very same bigotry?

Dolan and I have a lot in common: The Times refuses to publish my letters, too. I suspect the Times is prejudiced against Portuguese-Americans. Or mathematical-Americans. Not sure which.

Prior to receiving Bill Donohue's letter to you, were you aware of any other Catholic organization or spokesperson that exposed the anti-Catholic bigotry involved in the Washington Post blog providing a forum for atheist Richard Dawkins's diatribe against the Catholic Church?

I admit that this one upsets me just a little. Why was Dawkins relegated to the newspaper's blog? His views should have been prominently displayed in the editorial section. It's a shocking suppression of the views of a prominent international spokesperson for millions of nonbelievers. Yeah, I'm a little upset. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, Bill!

Prior to receiving Bill Donohue's letter to you, were you aware of any other Catholic organization or spokesperson that documented Bill Maher's repeated, decade-long expressions of contempt for the Catholic Church and the beliefs of all Christians?

Actually, Bill, I've seen plenty of religionists complaining about Maher's denigration of fatuous faith—including Islam, which takes a little chutzpah. Maher has his own fatuities (mostly in the field of health and medicine), but it's not exactly news that Maher pokes fun at religion and religious people don't like it.

Do you agree with Catholic League President Bill Donohue that these examples prove that anti-Catholicism is widespread in today's news and entertainment media—the last and only remaining “allowable bigotry”?

Nope.

Do you agree that the writers, editors, producers and on-air personalities responsible for these examples of anti-Catholic bigotry should have been fired or otherwise disciplined?

You're kidding, right? Nobody expects the American Inquisition! (You want a nice red uniform, don't you?)

Do you agree that the fact no one was disciplined in any way for these expressions of anti-Catholic bigotry shows that anti-Catholicism is acceptable to the owners and management of the media in question, such as the New York Times, the Washington Post, Viacom, Time-Warner, and Disney?

Nope. (1) Calling it anti-Catholic bigotry is reaching too far. (2) It actually denotes a modicum of respect for free speech. (3) Shut up. (I decided to leaven this post with a little humor!)

Do you agree that if these examples of bigotry had been against another religion, such as the Jewish or Muslim faith, those responsible would certainly have been disciplined?

In the case of actual bigotry, or imagined bigotry?

Do you agree that being bombarded by such bigotry against and contempt for Catholicism in the media threatens the spiritual well-being of our younger generation?

The younger generation? You mean, like altar boys? Wow, Bill, bringing up the well-being of young people in a Catholic context demonstrated how thoroughly ballsy you are. You crack me up! You'll go to any length for a joke, won't you? (I bow to the master.)

Do you support the Catholic League's campaign to reach at least l million Catholics with this Survey and to publicize the results as widely as possible in the Catholic and secular media?

Since when does “survey” merit capitalization? Is it a proper noun? It is a sacred text?

If so, it's a pity I'm about to desecrate it with the recycling bin.

Home boy

I've never been “home”

President Obama poked some gentle fun at several targets during the White House Correspondents Association dinner last week. He tweaked Biden for his use of profanity and Jay Leno for his recent ratings. And he tossed a barb in the direction of the birthers, the wacky people who refuse to accept the evidence of Obama's birth in Hawaii:

It's been quite a year since I've spoken here last—lots of ups, lots of downs—except for my approval ratings, which have just gone down. But that's politics. It doesn’t bother me. Besides I happen to know that my approval ratings are still very high in the country of my birth.

The fringe element that populates the Free Republic website seized on the president's comment:

gooleyman: Am I the only one to notice that Obama admitted on this video that he was not born in the United States.

He actually admits he wasn’t born in the United States.

Some folks can't quite grasp the concept of a mocking comedy routine—even when they're the butt of it (or perhaps especially when they're the butt of it). These crazies were also excited when Michelle Obama spoke in August 2008 before the a conference of LGBT delegates at the Democratic convention (“The World as It Should Be”):

Barack has led by example: When we took our trip to Africa and visited his home country in Kenya, we took a public HIV test for the very point of showing the folks in Kenya that there is nothing to be embarrassed about in getting tested.

Oh, my God! She said her husband's “home country” is Kenya! Oh, no!

I hope that the president's health care reform package includes increased coverage for psychiatric treatment. The birthers need help from competent brain-care specialists. The concept of “home country” is neither obscure nor difficult to understand—and it is not identical to “birth country.” I have reason to know.

The following paragraphs are a short excerpt from a novel I wrote last summer (still unpublished as of this writing, but I'm working on it). The manuscript recounts the travails of a contentious Portuguese immigrant family living in central California. (By a strange coincidence, I grew up in a contentious Portuguese immigrant family in central California. Weird!) This particular episode includes the following exchange between two pre-teen cousins:

“Tia Odette told me that my avô came to this country when he was still single. He was engaged to a girl back home.”

“In the Old Country. The Azores.”

“Yeah, back home,” said Ferdinando.

Paul thought it was interesting how they had picked up the expression “back home” to refer to a place that neither of them had ever seen. They had learned the phrase from their grandparents and it was a natural part of their language.

It's true. All my life I heard family members referring to the Azores as “back home.” I've said it myself.

But I've never been there.

People who misunderstand this expression out of ignorance or idiocy are probably beyond help. The lights are on, but no one is home.

Fun with trolls

Basket cases

The Internet is a wonderful gift to the mentally deranged. It enables them to share their warped perspective and grandiose delusions with the world. PZ Myers highlights a special case over at Pharyngula. John A. Davison is a sorry-ass crackpot who pelts PZ with e-mail about his cranky collection of “science” essays. It's another idiot who thinks he's a genius.

I'm currently having just a little bit of fun with a similarly loopy—but less coherent—nutjob whose self-regard has to be experienced to be appreciated. Let's call this fellow “Smith” for the sake of discussion. His reasoning skills are orthogonal to reality. For example, check this out:

DOES ATHEISM HAVE A FUTURE?

AND THE ANSWER - NO!

Shermer - Harris - Myers - Dawkins - Randi VS. NOSTRADAMUS - EINSTEIN - SMITH

you're ANNIHILATED!

It's another idiot who thinks he's a genius, ranking himself with Einstein. The Nostradamus comparison I can almost see, especially if you equate obscurantism with delusion (and I suspect Smith can't tell the difference).

It's just sad that Smith thinks Einstein was a theist. A regard for Spinoza's concept of god as the embodiment of nature does not make one a believer in any traditional sense of the word.

Too bad for Smith.

Each time he weighs in with one of his irrational rants, I smile and gently delete it. No doubt he chuckles mischievously as he reposts his nonsense time and again, but it's all for naught. He posts and chuckles. I delete and laugh.

Ha, ha, “Smith.” See how I mock your self-regard?

Dad endorses conspiracy theory

Masters of the universe

My politically benighted father has shared with me yet another classic of the forwarded-wisdom genre. Although I have told him (many more times than once) that one is unlikely to find trenchant political wisdom in poorly formatted, multiply forwarded e-mail screeds, he cannot resist sending me some of the iron pyrite nuggets that drop into his AOL mail box. The latest example is fairly typical of the right-wing spam with which he favors me. It's a tribute to the power of politicians. It's really much greater than you might imagine. No, really!

They control everything.

Yeah. Sure.

I'm always conflicted about the proper way to react when these chunks of nonsense show up in my in-box. Initially, I'm insulted that he thinks I could be persuaded by such lame manifestos. Then I'm embarrassed that my father swallows such tripe without blinking. Finally, I simply ash-can the message or—if I just can't resist it—I zing back with a tart response.

This was one of those zinger occasions.

It didn't help that Dad included his endorsement instead of merely forwarding the spam:

“This really got it right. This is what is happening to our country and I do not like it!!!!”

No, Dad. Multiple exclamation points do not add to the weight of the argument. They just don't.

This is part of what followed:

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?. . . .

Charlie Reese, a retired reporter for the Orlando Sentinel has hit the nail directly on the head, defining clearly who it is that in the final analysis must assume responsibility for the judgments made that impact each one of us every day. Charley Reese has been a journalist for 49 years. It's a short but good read. Worth the time. Worth remembering!

EVERY CITIZEN NEEDS TO READ THIS AND THINK ABOUT WHAT THIS JOURNALIST HAS SCRIPTED IN THIS MESSAGE. READ IT AND THEN REALLY THINK ABOUT OUR CURRENT POLITICAL DEBACLE..

545 vs. 300,000,000 PEOPLE
By Charlie Reese

Politicians are the only people in the world who create problems and then campaign against them...Have you ever wondered, if both the Democrats and the Republicans are against deficits, WHY do we have deficits?

Have you ever wondered: If all the politicians are against inflation and high taxes, WHY do we have inflation and high taxes?

You and I don't propose a federal budget. The president does. You and I don't have the Constitutional authority to vote on appropriations. The House of Representatives does.

You and I don't write the tax code, Congress does.

You and I don't set fiscal policy, Congress does.

You and I don't control monetary policy, the Federal Reserve Bank does.

One hundred senators, 435 congressmen, one president, and nine Supreme Court justices equates to 545 human beings out of the 300 million are directly, legally, morally, and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country.

Those 545 human beings spend much of their energy convincing you that what they did is not their fault. They cooperate in this common con regardless of party.

What separates a politician from a normal human being is an excessive amount of gall. No normal human being would have the gall of a Speaker, who stood up and criticized the President for creating deficits. The president can only propose a budget. He cannot force the Congress to accept it.

The Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, gives sole responsibility to the House of Representatives for originating and approving appropriations and taxes. Who is the speaker of the House? Nancy Pelosi. She is the leader of the majority party. She and fellow House members, not the president, can approve any budget they want. If the president vetoes it, they can pass it over his veto if they agree to.

It seems inconceivable to me that a nation of 300 million cannot replace 545 people who stand convicted -- by present facts -- of incompetence and irresponsibility. I can't think of a single domestic problem that is not traceable directly to those 545 people.

When you fully grasp the plain truth that 545 people exercise the power of the federal government, then it must follow that what exists is what they want to exist.

If the tax code is unfair, it's because they want it unfair.
If the budget is in the red, it's because they want it in the red.
If the Army & Marines are in IRAQ, it's because they want them in IRAQ.
If they do not receive social security but are on an elite retirement plan not available to the people, it's because they want it that way.

There are no insoluble government problems. Do not let these 545 people shift the blame to bureaucrats, whom they hire and whose jobs they can abolish; to lobbyists, whose gifts and advice they can reject; to regulators, to whom they give the power to regulate and from whom they can take this power. Above all, do not let them con you into the belief that there exists disembodied mystical forces like "the economy," "inflation," or "politics" that prevent them from doing what they take an oath to do.

Those 545 people, and they alone, are responsible. They, and they alone, have the power.

They, and they alone, should be held accountable by the people who are their bosses. Provided the voters have the gumption to manage their own employees. We should vote all of them out of office and clean up their mess!

Charlie Reese is a former columnist of the Orlando Sentinel Newspaper. What you do with this article now that you have read it.

No one should be surprised to learn that the editorial supposedly written by Mr. Reese of the Orlando Sentinel is not quite as advertised. It has been severely “improved” by clumsy hands as it's been passed from one right-winger to another. I omitted the extensive coda in Dad's version that included a long list of taxes, all of which are horrible crimes against humanity. I especially enjoyed the breathless claim that “Not one of these taxes existed 100 years ago, and our nation was the most prosperous in the world.” Why was that amusing?

The list included the Telephone Federal Excise Tax, the Gasoline Tax, and the Recreational Vehicle Tax.

I think I have a clue why none of those terrible taxes existed in 1910. I also doubt that their non-existence was a key factor in the nation's prosperity back then. (It didn't even prevent the panic of 1910-11.)

As I previously admitted, I could not resist sending Dad a slightly snarky response.

Dear Dad:

The original version was published by Charley (not “Charlie”) Reese in 1995, when the Republicans ran Congress. He pointed out that the GOP only pretends to want balanced budgets, since they never pass any, even when in power. This version was edited with a right-wing slant to blame Democrats alone and also stuck in some nonsense about the supposed absolute power of the 545 senators and representatives to control the universe. To my knowledge, Reese never wrote anything as silly as

Above all, do not let them con you into the belief that there exists disembodied mystical forces like “the economy,” “inflation,” or “politics” that prevent them from doing what they take an oath to do.

Any political reporter who wrote that would apparently believe that Congress could have passed a law abolishing the Depression or mandating peace on earth or banning flash floods and earthquakes. Would that the world were that simple.

The “improved” version of Reese's editorial that you forwarded to me can be rebutted much too easily. Like this, for example:

• Every member of the House of Representatives is elected by the voters in his or her district. If a person is in the House, it's because the people in that district want that person in the House.
• Every member of the Senate is elected by the voters in his or her state (except for temporary interim appointments). If a person is in the Senate, it's because the people in that state want that person in the Senate.
• The Congress is elected by the people of the United States. Therefore the Congress is the representative body that the people want.

Above all, do not let anyone con you into thinking that there exists some disembodied political forces like “radical liberals” or “environmental extremists” or “ACORN” or “George Soros” that prevent voters from electing the people they want in office.

And then, of course, these people control the universe.

The state of the world? It's all the fault of the masters of the universe. Yeah. We can blame it all on He-Man.

Another Obama outrage

One of these things is not like the other

The wacky right was never at a loss for words when George W. Bush was criticized for being a lousy president—perhaps the worst in American history. (Look to your laurels, James Buchanan!) Those who pointed to Bush's many failures were accused of suffering from “Bush derangement syndrome.” It was, you see, irrational to denigrate poor old George for traipsing into Iraq with no valid reason in hand and no exit plan in mind, allowing financial institutions to cheat their clients and each other to the point of meltdown, and slashing taxes for his “base” in an orgy of deficit-building.

I mean, what's to criticize in those minor missteps?

Now that Barack Obama is president, there are real outrages that must be denounced in the strongest terms possible. After all, when the occupant of the White House is an enemy of America (and maybe even a communist!), eternal vigilance is called for. A recent letter writer to the Sacramento Bee identified the president's latest example of hatred for his fellow citizens.

No aid for U.S. quake victims

Imperial Valley and Northern Baja had 7.2 earthquake on Easter Sunday. President Barack Obama has done nothing. This is in his own country. He has done nothing for us, no word about it. Haiti had a 7.1 earthquake; 18 minutes later he is giving all kinds of aid to a foreign country.

—Mike Van Zandt, Brawley

Mr. Van Zandt is right! (Probably extreme right.) The earthquake in southern California was a tenth of a point worse than the Haitian temblor, yet the emergency services response to the two incidents could scarcely have been more different.

It may—just possibly—have something to do with the results: Two people were reported killed in the Mexicali/Calexico quake. Two hundred thousand were reported dead in Haiti, with the counting still continuing. (We can blame government interference with acts of God: building codes are much stronger in the U.S. and Mexico than in Haiti.)

As head of state, it naturally fell to President Obama to extend the nation's sympathy to the people of Haiti and to initiate our relief efforts. In the case of the quake on the border between California and Mexico, Governor Schwarzenegger is the chief executive who issues (and did issue) a declaration of emergency. The day after the quake, the Federal Emergency Management Agency reported that “No request for Federal assistance has been received.”

FEMA was on hand, however, when the California Emergency Management Agency asked for its participation in surveying and assessing the earthquake damage.

Of course, that was ten days after the quake occurred. If Obama really loved America, he would not have waited. He would have flooded Imperial Valley and the border region with federal troops and agents.

I'm sure Mr. Van Zandt and others of his ilk would have greeted them as liberators.

G is for Grafton

Men of letters

Over breakfast in Turlock during spring break (hey, where else would you go for breakfast during spring break?), my old college buddy gave me some detailed feedback on the manuscript of my novel. He was kind enough to point out that the character based on me kept getting in the way of the main storyline. (Damn. He's right.)

In addition to talking about my attempt at becoming a writer, my friend and I talked about actual writers (you know, the published kind). It turned out that neither of us had read Sarah Palin's autobiography, although I had riffled through the pages at Mom and Dad's. (Wait a minute: I said “actual” writers. Going Rogue is ghostwritten.) I teased him about his university becoming the notorious venue for Palin's secretly expensive public speaking appearance, but he wasn't particularly embarrassed. The faculty at California State University, Stanislaus, are innocent bystanders when the activities of their institution's president are concerned.

Somehow we wandered onto a new topic. I'm not sure how or why. For whatever, reason, I wondered aloud what Sue Grafton would do when she ran out of letters for her “alphabet series.” (Right now she's on U is for Undertow.) My buddy pointed out that there was no reason for Grafton to abandon the series after penning Z is for Zebra (or whatever). Spreadsheets have taught us that the alphabet need not end, for column Z is succeeded by column AA.

“She could write AA is for Alcoholics,” my friend suggested.

I laughed and got into the spirit of things. I know that Excel says that AB should be next, but I chose a different route.

“BB is for Air Rifle,” I said.

“CC is for Dosage,” he replied, with a fine metric sense.

We disagreed about DD. Thinking Dungeons & Dragons, I suggested DD is for Nerds, but he riposted that it should be EE is for Nerds (and I imagine that most EE majors would agree). He offered the possibility that DD should stand for lingerie.

I think not.

Anyway, I'm sure that Grafton can make up her own mind. But what do you think?

T is for Turlock

Or maybe “turkey”

The modest California town of Turlock in Stanislaus county currently boasts a population of 70,000 and a campus of the California State University. The university is the legacy of a sufficiently well-connected state senator who thought his hometown should snag one of the new campuses being planned during the 1960s expansion of the CSU system. It gave Turlock something else to brag about aside from the poultry farms that inspired the memorable radio jingle about “Turkeys from Turlock.” (This is assuredly the reason that California State University, Stanislaus, is fondly referred to by many as “Turkey Tech.”)

I recently had breakfast in Turlock with an old grad school buddy who is a professor at Stan State (that's the other nickname of CSU, Stanislaus). It was impossible, of course, to avoid twitting him about the selection of Alaska's former half-term governor as guest of honor for the “celebration of excellence” marking Stan State's fiftieth anniversary.

Perhaps Sarah Palin is not someone you automatically associate in your mind with “excellence.” Or “education.” The snarky among us might say the same thing about Stan State, but the truth is that CSU Stanislaus has gained a reputation as a good deal in public higher education. Away from the high-cost environments of the CSU's urban campuses, Stan State offers a low-rent alternative path to bachelor's and master's degrees. (We shouldn't hold it against Stan State that one of its professors is the wacky IDiot Richard Weikert.)

Besides, as my friend pointed out, the university's leadership is simply pandering to the local political environment—and taking advantage of it. California's Central Valley is the locus of blood-red politics and teabagging. The university's “independent” foundation doesn't have to admit how much money it's paying Palin to aw-shucks her way through a “Knowledge is good” speech. The foundation claims, however, that it will clear between $100,000 to $200,000 from her appearance, even after crossing Palin's palm.

So think about it. The right-wing residents of Stanislaus county are being drawn like moths to Palin's bright and shiny flame. In return, each will be relieved of at least $500. (The hardcore Palinistas can unload $50,000 for the honor of being called “platinum sponsors.”) All of that money will go into student scholarships and other educational programs.

And, as we all know, the result of a public higher education in the liberal arts is more liberals. Glenn Beck said so, and he's an “expert” (on everything!).

Yeah, let's take their money.

A member of no organized political party

As Will Rogers once said

For a bit of casual fun, you can test your political persona at OkCupid.com. Don't expect to be surprised. Do expect to be slightly irritated at some of the questions. (“People raising children have a responsibility to live up to society's standards”? What if society's standards aren't very “up”?) You're required to come down on one side or the other on every single question. No neutral answers are allowed.

It appears that the test was concocted for the 2008 political season, but it was just today that a friend sent me his results. I am, of course, disappointed that I didn't turn out to be as much of a socialist as he is. Shucks! (Maybe after the Obama administration ships me off to the re-education camps! I'll save a place for Dad!)

The job satisfaction metric

Too much of a good thing?

California community colleges are a mixed lot, lacking the kind of central authority enjoyed(?) by the University of California or the California State University. Instead, the Golden State's 112 two-year colleges are broken up into 72 largely autonomous districts. The colleges have various reporting requirements to the state chancellor's office, but the chancellor has minimal direct authority over any of the individual colleges or districts.

That makes things more exciting. Community college districts don't march in lock-step. We wander in all directions. Sometimes the results aren't pretty, as when Compton College ceased to exist. (It lost its accreditation and was reduced to an educational center under the administration of neighboring El Camino College.) Or you can be like Sierra College and suffer from a fractious board of elected trustees who fire the president and spend as much time on political posturing as setting educational policy. Then there's Solano College, which played a game of brinksmanship with the accrediting authority for community colleges until a state-appointed trustee was imposed on it and an interim president was brought in to kick butt and stabilize the situation.

And I think we've all heard of San Francisco City College's shot-down trial balloon to allow corporate sponsorship of class sessions.

Normally, the less excitement you have, the better.

My friend Steve is mild-mannered and usually doesn't brag about how boring things are at his school, but it's difficult to remain modest when other school districts are cutting programs to the bone and yours is hanging in there. He has enough seniority now to fear no lay-offs, but Steve tells me they're not in the works at American River College and the other Los Rios institutions. (Apparently Los Rios did something weird and socked away a bunch of money in a contingency fund, into which they are now dipping. Unheard of!)

Steve admits that even the Los Rios colleges have to deal with reality in the Governator's dystopia, cutting back on class offerings and reducing (or eliminating!) teaching loads for part-time faculty and limiting overload teaching by full-time instructors. The lengthy budget crisis is taking its toll and now Los Rios faculty and staff are looking at creative remedies: pay cuts!

Faculty salaries are a big-ticket item at any college, of course, which is why cuts have already been imposed on UC and CSU campuses—generally by means of mandatory unpaid furlough days. Sierra College has similarly trimmed work schedules and salary costs. According to Steve, the idea for pay cuts in the Los Rios district actually came from a faculty member, not an administrator.

Hmm.

It appears the idea is that a voluntary pay cut would free up cash to support retention of class sections and adjunct faculty. (I hope the faculty gets a written guarantee that's where the money would go before they cough up part of their salaries.) Some members of the Los Rios community are willing to argue they are overpaid, so it would be easy to give up a little of the “excess.”

Fascinating.

Steve forwarded to me the most compelling argument in support of the claim that he and his colleagues are too richly remunerated. His cover note suggested that Steve was not entirely persuaded by the message writer's logic. Behold:

Subject: RE: Pay cuts are the answer!

I must agree with Professor C. I have been an adjunct instructor at ARC since roughly 1963 and I still love it. I have said that I would be willing to teach for nothing. Actually, I did teach one class for nothing and believe my students felt I was worth every penny of it. It is the only class I ever taught where I had more students at the end of the course than at the beginning.

I believe a 5%-10% pay cut is fully justified. When a colleague died at Sierra College a few years ago, I taught one of his classes for 20% less than ARC pays me and was happy to do it.

One way to tell that "the talent" may be overpaid is by considering the turnover rate. When an instructor quits at ARC, it is talked about for years. One professor at Sierra College told me that in the years from 1996 to 2004, exactly two professors had quit. One joined her husband who had been hired at Chico State and the other was hired by the Air Force Academy. How does this compare with the turnover rate at almost ANY other business?

You follow that line of reasoning? Excessive job satisfaction is evidence that monetary compensation is too high.

It makes a cruel kind of logic. Surely it would be more cost-effective to churn the faculty regularly by setting salaries as low as possible. Instructors would always be leaving and a big fraction of the faculty would always be on the first steps of the entry-level salary scale. Savings galore!

This concept could undoubtedly be extended to the banking industry, where we can tell that salaries are currently too low because the top executives in the financial sector don't stay in their jobs very long.

QED!

By the way, Steve pointed out to me that the above message was written by one of his colleagues in the econ department.

Maybe I'll sign up for a class when he teaches it for free.

A grave injustice

Postmortem testimony

There is a long and continuing tradition of dead people who refuse to shut up. Joe Gillis (William Holden) is pretty chatty in Sunset Boulevard despite floating face down in a swimming pool. Susie Salmon has a lot to say in The Lovely Bones even though she has been raped and murdered.

You can't keep a good corpse down, so why not let the dead have their day in court? The good folks at TLC have risen{!} to the challenge.

TUNE IN
Kevin McDonough

‘Paranormal Court’ takes family feuds into afterlife

TLC ventures into seriously creepy territory with “Paranormal Court” (10 p.m. Saturday).

Robert Hansen, a psychic medium famous among people who believe in psychic mediums, will mediate disputes between family members squabbling over possessions left behind by the deceased.

Hansen goes right to the source and communicates with the “owners” to set
things straight. If it's a hit, we can expect only more superstition and ignorance passing as entertainment on the network formerly known as The Learning Channel.

My psychic powers predict that the sheep will stream in to be shorn and TLC will have a big success. Unless, of course, Robert Hansen keeps telling the suckers that the dearly departed really intended to leave all of their earthly possessions to Hansen's pet cat, with him as trustee.

If only Paranormal Court had been around when my family went at each other's throats over my grandmother's will. It would have added an entirely new dimension of insanity and inanity.

Lying down on the job

Never to thine own self be true

House minority leader John Boehner is forthright in explicating his theory of representative democracy. He speaks without ambiguity:

We have failed to listen to America, and we have failed to reflect the will of our constituents. And when we fail to reflect that will, we fail ourselves and we fail our country....

Shame on each and every one of you who substitutes your will and your desires above those of your fellow countrymen.

Rep. Boehner spoke these words immediately before a majority of the House of Representatives declined to heed his passionate exhortation and enacted landmark health care reform legislation.

The minority leader is on record, therefore, as explicitly repudiating the position of Edmund Burke, the British statesman and member of parliament who was once an icon of conservative political thought. He is perhaps most famous for the aphorism, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing,” although you will search his writing in vain for those exact words. Nevertheless, we can be confident that Rep. Boehner would have given ardent testimony that his speech in the House was a valiant effort to oppose evil. He is, however, in strenuous opposition to words which really are from Edmund Burke:

Certainly, gentlemen, it ought to be the happiness and glory of a representative to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him; their opinion, high respect; their business, unremitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs; and above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure; no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion.

Burke spoke these words in 1774 in a speech to the electors of Bristol. It encapsulates his definition of representative government, which is the antithesis of the Boehner formulation that calls for members of congress to be supine servants of the public passion of the moment.

We could, I suppose, concede that Boehner has a right to his own perspective on our representative democracy and to disregard Burke's strong words. I am not willing to be so charitable. I find it difficult to be kind to such scum-sucking bottom-dwellers as Boehner, and I choose my words with care and delicacy.

Boehner is a rank hypocrite and it is impossible to believe that he takes his position innocently or sincerely. He has worked tirelessly as the leader of the House minority to ensure that not one Republican congress member dared to vote in favor of health care reform—not even the 34 men and women who were elected from districts that favored Barack Obama in the 2008 general election. By Boehner's theory of representative government, these people should be falling over themselves to support the president whom their constituents elected.

In the case of Joseph Cao, the Republican congressman from Louisiana's 2nd district (which Obama carried with 75% of the vote), Boehner appears willing to countenance Cao's betrayal of the sacred principal of walking in lockstep with one's constituents. In fact, Rep. Cao sounds positively Burkean in his statement to CNN:

Asked about the fact that his congressional district is overwhelmingly Democratic and in support of health care reform, the Catholic lawmaker responded, “It is not wrong to vote against what my constituents want but it is wrong to vote against my own conscience.”

Funny how Boehner holds his tongue in the face of such blasphemy.

Treason! Insanity! Really!

The exploding head hour

This morning on San Francisco's KSFO, the Bay Area's one beacon of unbridled right-wing insanity, the 7 o'clock hour began with Brian Sussman's introduction of Sacramento-based political commentator Steve Frank (“the smartest guy in Sacramento”). Sussman asked Frank how he was doing. Frank had a pithy answer:

We will remember December 7th, September 11th, and March 21st as days that will live in infamy for this country.

Nice, huh? Some smart guy from California's state capital thinks that the passage of (nearly) universal health care is comparable to the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor by the empire of Japan and the destruction of New York's World Trade Center by extremist Muslim terrorists. That's “conservative” political analysis for you!

Later in the broadcast, Frank traced the origins of national health care back to the progressive politics of the era of Woodrow Wilson—a hundred-year campaign by liberals. “Glenn Beck is right,” said Frank, alluding to the deranged Fox News broadcaster's obsession with “progressives” and conspiracies.

Whenever someone says that Glenn Beck is correct about something, you know exactly how seriously to take him.

As if his political acumen was not already sufficiently well exposed, Frank then complained that provisions of the health care bill would determine whether or not he would be permitted to eat doughnuts. (Do they also cover cinnamon twists and maple bars? America has a right to know!)

Yes, it was an hour of exploding heads on KSFO this morning. Though, now that I come to think of it, perhaps it was really the imploding head hour. When you have that much hard vacuum where the brains should be, catastrophic collapse is only a matter of time.

Will it be covered by the new health care plan?

Ragging on the daily rag

Journamalism

Back when the Sacramento Bee prided itself on being the journal of record for the state capitol, the newspaper had a local news section that billed itself as “Superior California.” It was a dig that irritated many of the southern Californians who worked under the capitol's golden dome, since it implied that the lower part of the state was “inferior California.”

The Bee still covers the state capitol and still carries news of the Sacramento Valley region, but it has long since abandoned any pretense of superiority. In fact, it has in recent years abandoned any pretense of journalism. The Bee's lack of editorial integrity and journalistic judgment was in full display on page one of the edition for Tuesday, March 16, 2010. The day's top story was emblazoned with an eye-catching headline:

Speaker's top aide
gets $65,000 raise

The article had the undoubtedly desired effect: hundreds of people crowding into the Bee's website to post denunciations of the greedy profiteers in state government and a raft of furious letters to the editor. The Bee basks in the glow of cupidity revealed.

There is only one problem with this supposedly newsworthy story. It turns out that the Bee could have published the exact same article with the following headline instead:

New Speaker's top aide gets exactly
same salary as old Speaker's top aide

Of course, that would hardly be interesting, exciting, or rabble-rousing. Not front-page news. The Bee knows its job, but that job does not appear to be journalism.

The focus of the Bee's faux exposé is a woman who worked as chief of staff for John Pérez, who until last month was merely one of eighty members of the state assembly. Now, however, Pérez has been elevated to the position of speaker, the lower chamber's top job. He brought his office chief of staff into the speaker's office, appointing her to a brand-new job that now involves working with all eighty assembly members' offices at the same time.

Am I splitting hairs when I insist that it is misleading to describe her new salary as a pay raise in a newspaper headline? What she has is an entirely new job. She will be making significantly more money than before, but her responsibilities have taken a great leap upward. The Bee makes it sound as if her boss simply decided to capriciously give her a big fat pay raise.

One is welcome to debate whether the speaker's top staff assistant should earn more than he does (she'll make $190,000 while he earns $110,000—recently cut back from $134,000 because elected officials' salaries were reduced in consequence of the recession). That's a legitimate argument. What the Bee is doing, however, is a bastard form of journalism.

It's mere sensationalism.

What's the frequency, Kenneth?

Suburban superstition

Pacific Gas & Electric has been installing new meters throughout its service area. I've had one since last year. The PG&E meter reader no longer needs to bustle up to the side of my house to check on my electricity usage. Instead, my meter dutifully reports in wirelessly. No more hassles with locked gates, growling dogs, or other yard hazards.

No more meter readers, either, but I'm sure that workforce reduction was part of what PG&E was going for.

There were reportedly some initial problems when people started receiving ridiculously high utility bills. (No one complained about ridiculously low bills, so I assume there must have been none of those.) PG&E recalibrated or reprogrammed the new meters (or something like that) and the complaints faded away.

Time for new complaints!

The meters, you see, are trying to kill us.

Perhaps you thought the new complaints would be about the prospect of PG&E using the remote-control features to impose arbitrary and capricious black-outs and brown-outs during power shortages. (I think we're saving those concerns for the next round of complaints.) But, no, the San Francisco Chronicle reports that the fearmongers have seized on the tiny, tiny emissions when the PG&E SmartMeters transmit their reports.

Some Sebastopol residents have questioned whether radio frequency radiation from the meters, which transmit their data to the utility via wireless communications, could threaten their health.

Their concerns grow from the heated debate over whether radiation from cell phones, Wi-Fi computers and other wireless devices can cause cancer or other ailments. They want a moratorium on installing the SmartMeters to measure electricity and gas use.

The meters are zapping us with electromagnetism! Arrggh!

There is solid science behind this concern, of course. Recall that microwaves from cell phones cause ear cancer. Or maybe not. A well-known Danish study followed a large cohort of cell-phone users for decades without finding any sign of increased incidence of cancer.

But absence of evidence is no reason to put off a panic attack. San Francisco is considering legislation to require a “radiation” warning on cell phones. Such a good idea. And, of course, concerned citizens want to stop the SmartMeters.

“We are being increasingly exposed to an exponential amount of radio frequency radiation,” said Sebastopol resident Sandi Maurer. “Now there are going to be two of these things in every home.”

Maurer is the founder of the EMF Safety Network, a clearinghouse for information on the possible dangers of electromagnetic fields. She and other residents persuaded the Sebastopol City Council this month to ask California energy regulators to stop SmartMeter installation while the possible health risks can be assessed.

Oh, good. An information “clearinghouse” is involved. Not surprisingly, the EMF Safety Network's website offers a plethora of advice and links about protecting oneself (and one's kids!) from EMF.

What we really need is a kind of early-alert system that warns concerned citizens whenever anyone installs any kind of transmission device anywhere.

We could use the radio!

Only when I'm drunk

Can't drive straight

It seems to have all the elements of a non-story: a state legislator caught driving drunk in downtown Sacramento. Why is that even news? The Sacramento Bee was typically discreet:

A spokesman for the CHP said that [state senator Roy] Ashburn's vehicle was observed weaving on L Street near 13th Street in downtown Sacramento shortly before 2 a.m.

Had the senator had too much to drink while dining at the Old Spaghetti Factory? The hour suggests otherwise, since the restaurant in the old railroad depot next to the downtown train tracks is not a late-night establishment. Across the tracks, however, there is a popular hangout called Faces, a well-known gay bar just a few blocks from the capitol building.

Sen. Ashburn was apparently caught on the wrong side of the tracks.

He also had a male companion with him.

The Bee glossed over those details, but other sources are bubbling with the news. The rest of the story—as if you didn't already know it—is that Roy Ashburn is a conservative Republican state senator who can be relied upon to cast a vote against any gay rights measure that might appear on the legislative docket. He's a Central Valley man who styles himself a stalwart defender of wholesome family values (as defined by the Republican Party, of course).

As far as I'm concerned, the cherry on the sundae is this: He represents my parents' senatorial district, one of the “reddest” regions of the state. (My father will be somewhat less than delighted.) In an ironic twist, it was one of Ashburn's predecessors, a laissez-faire Republican named Howard Way, who cast the deciding vote in eliminating California's sodomy laws. Ashburn could have followed in his predecessor's libertarian footsteps, but apparently chose closeted libertinism instead.

Lost on the causeway?

Christian sin

Glenn Branch was speaking in Sacramento last night, so I made a pilgrimage up to the state capital. I took some notes and will probably be able to find time to post a report later this week. (Unwritten exams are currently demanding my attention.) While I was in the vicinity, I drove across the Yolo causeway to check out the vandalized billboard near I-80's westbound lanes.


I was too late. It has been miraculously healed. Or, at least, a kind of blue Band-Aid has been stuck on top of the anti-atheist graffiti. The blue was not a perfect match for the original billboard, but close enough for motorists zipping down 80 at 70. The billboard is one of ten scattered about the capital region by the Sacramento affiliate of the United Coalition of Reason.

I am guessing, of course, but I imagine the vandalism was carried out by one of California's many irate Christians, someone who is affronted by the existence of people who don't agree with him. (I'm guessing about the “him,” too; most of the female Christians would probably consider it unladylike to clamber up a billboard.) The vandal was also stupid enough to use black paint against a deep blue background, apparently not noticing why the original lettering was in white.

I wonder why this person thought he was honoring his god by committing a sin. Vandalism is covered by the seventh commandment*—“Thou shalt not steal”—because destroying or damaging something that belongs to someone else is akin to taking it from him. It's nice of him to be willing to risk hell for the greater glory of God.

Still, things may not be working out as he hoped. When I drove down I-80 and saw that the billboard had been repaired, I cried out, “It's a sign!”

---

*No quibbling, please, about the numbering of the commandments. They aren't numbered in the Bible and Catholics disagree with most Protestants about how they should be designated. I am, after all, a Catholic atheist. And, unlike the commandments' right-wing idolators, I can actually recite them. So there! (Oops! Sin of pride!)

Religious boobies

A nice pair

Inside the Vatican is not a humor magazine—at least, not intentionally. Sometimes, however, they just can't help it. The February 2010 issue is out and it immediately provides some light entertainment, beginning with the first letter in its correspondence section:

BENEDICT AND ECOLOGY

As a Catholic and an American I am appalled at the public pronouncements made by the Pope regarding global environmental issues. I would hope that the Vatican would start focusing on the spiritual rather than the political world.

On those issues, the Pope does not speak for me nor should he. As an American I do not agree with our president's socialistic/fascist approach to global environmental problems that appear to be a cover for something else.

M. Shirrel
California, USA
harpy831@[redacted].com

Was it an unconscious act of “truth in labeling” when the conspiracy-fearing Ms. Shirrel chose her e-mail handle? Was she aware of its pagan origins in Greek mythology? (Of course, that's a trait shared by several aspects of Christianity.)

The fun continues on the facing page, where the editorial staff found it necessary to provide Inside the Vatican's readership with an apology for the excesses of the December issue:

Special Note: We would like to apologize to our readers for using an image on the cover of our Christmas issue (December
2009), which depicted the Virgin Mary in the stable at Bethlehem in a way a number of our readers found offensive. We will be more careful in the future about including anything of this type in the magazine. —The Editor

An “offensive” depiction of the virgin mother? On the cover of a staid religious magazine?

Surely someone in the publication's art department must have evaded editorial supervision and slipped in something shocking. While the chosen artwork is a rather conventional mother-and-child nativity scene—with what my art history professor used to call the “standard glow-in-the-dark Christ child”—it apparently reminded too many of the devout Catholic readers that Jesus was not a bottle baby.


I'm sure that you must be as shocked as I am! No wonder an apology was necessary. I suggest that next Christmas Inside the Vatican play it safe by avoiding the kitschy devotional work of no-name artists and choosing a classic work by a famed Renaissance genius like Leonardo da Vinci. For example, there is Leonardo's justly famous “Boob and Winkie.” One can just imagine the flood of appreciative letters from readers.

The cold truth about PZ Myers

Not exactly TMZ on PZ

While on tour in the Golden State, PZ Myers was resilient enough despite minor jet-lag to hoist a few brews after his talks. Smiting ignorance and prejudice can be dry work.

I tagged along to two of the post-presentation chat sessions. The chosen venue after the Sacramento City College talk was the Fox & Goose, which bills itself as a “public house” in the British style. (That's right: a “pub.”) It was a slow evening when we dropped in. PZ and a dozen other people gathered around some shoved-together tables and kicked back for some casual conversation. (No, we did not array ourselves in the manner of Da Vinci's “Last Supper.”)

During the course of that colloquy, PZ off-handedly made two shocking revelations. The first was his youthful rebellion against his father's carefully mapped-out plans for PZ's life. PZ, you see, was destined to be a ... refrigerator repairman.

You can easily imagine his father's horror when PZ threw it all over in favor of going to college. Even worse, PZ became a hardcore academic, ending up as a tenured professor. While it seems that his family eventually became reconciled to PZ's academic bent, his father never quite understood why PZ tossed over a sure thing like major appliance repair for the uncertainties of university life. Instead of associate professor of biology at the University of Minnesota, PZ could have been Refrigerator Repairman—but it was not to be.

All habitués of Pharyngula know that PZ is a prodigious writer (except, perhaps, for the book he is always supposedly finishing up). It's not surprising to learn that he is also a prodigious reader. Of course, we know this because we see his reading as the grist for his blog's mill. However, there's more to it than that. PZ is a big fan of science fiction author Iain M. Banks. In fact, he's also a big fan of Iain Banks, this latter being the name that Banks uses for his non-sf novels.

I lean toward the Culture novels myself, my favorite Banks work being The Player of Games, one of the few books I have read multiple times. PZ expressed a fondness for the semi-notorious Wasp Factory and its sociopathic protagonist. My Simon & Schuster paperback copy of The Wasp Factory includes on its back cover such paeans as “One of the top 100 novels of the century” and such slams as “A literary equivalent of the nastiest brand of juvenile delinquent.” I rather admire the cheekiness of running negative comments among the usual positive blurbs.

(Shocking revelation of my own: My copy of The Wasp Factory is brand new. Despite an assiduous search through my bookcases, I find no trace of the white-covered edition I see so clearly in my mind. And paging through the new copy leaves me befuddled, since the story seems only vaguely familiar. Have I forgotten it or have I never read it? Both are hard to believe. The book is now on my “read soon” stack and I'll see whether Frank's nefarious adventures ring a bell.)

PZ and I were not the only Banks fans present. One of the other attendees offered his opinion that Banks wrote scenes that were impossible to turn into movies. (An attempt to turn The Player of Games into a film foundered several years ago.) PZ disagreed. He suggested that the scene with the Eaters in Consider Phlebas would make for a very nice horror movie.

He's probably right, but you wouldn't want to be munching popcorn during that episode (“we are the Eaters, the Eaters of ashes, the Eaters of filth”).

The venue for the post-talk gathering after PZ's Sierra College presentation was BJ's Restaurant & Brewery in Roseville. The contrast with the Fox & Goose was dramatic. BJ's was crowded with patrons and PZ was accompanied by a much larger entourage. Long tables were pushed together to make enough space for the dozens of people in the party.

I got to sit close enough to PZ where I was able to get his autograph (like the geeky fanboy that I am). He observed that we carried closely matched Moleskine pocket notebooks, including the same quadrille rule (no mere lined paper for us science types!). He also complimented me on having neater handwriting than his, but PZ also pointed out that he takes notes in multiple colors and has a Moleskine customized with the Seed Media Group logo. Point to PZ.

I was suitably abashed, of course.

Creationist Robert O'Brien eventually showed up and was wedged into a tight space next to a cadre of Sierra College students. He got to hear them explain to me how Sierra College differed from the neighboring American River College. The recently ousted right-wing ARC student government had campaigned with a strong anti-gay plank in its platform, pandering to the homophobia of its Slavic immigrant base. The candidates ran a fearmongering campaign that claimed that militant gay activists were trying to take over the student government.

“At Sierra College,” said one of the students, “that's exactly what we did!”

I congratulated them on realizing the worst fears of the local bloc of right-wing, anti-gay, creationist extremists.

The anti-gay O'Brien did look a little uncomfortable, although I have to give him credit for a good poker face.

PZ's phone rang later in the evening. He saw that it was the Trophy Wife^TM and dutifully said he had to take the call. After he chatted with her about his connections for his trip to the United Kingdom, PZ's companions all yelled out a greeting to his distant spouse.

We were heard in Minnesota.

King of the silver lining

Please ignore the dark clouds

As a completely rational man, I do not countenance superstitious behavior. For me, “knock on wood” is just a jocular expression. Spilling salt doesn't bother me (except for the mess it might leave). I'll pet a black cat any old time (assuming it's not hissing at me).

But sometimes I wonder. I appear to be the master of mitigated bad luck. A few examples will demonstrate my outlier status on the coincidence curve.

On the afternoon of the day before the start of the new semester at my school, I decided on impulse to run an errand. I jumped into my car and headed toward town.

Thup, thup, thup.

Not a normal car noise. I pulled over and checked out my vehicle. The right rear tire was almost flat.

Damn.

And on the day before school starts, too. However, I was close to the Big O Tires where I had purchased the rubber I use to meet the road. I therefore risked thupping a few blocks more, where the automotive mechanic popped off the tire, fixed it, and had me back on the road in half an hour.

No charge.

By no stretch of the imagination is a flat tire good news. However, had I not discovered the flat that afternoon, I would have discovered it early in the morning when leaving (or trying to leave) for the first day of school. Not good. I might have been late for the first session of my first class of the day. Definitely not good.

One more thing: Had I been traveling in a different direction, I would probably have pulled into the car dealership where I sometimes get my vehicle serviced. I would have gotten the tire fixed, but certainly not comped.

See what I mean about silver linings?

Several years ago, driving north on Highway 99 on Washington's Birthday, I heard an unpleasant noise from under the hood of my car. The fan clutch had seized up and apparently didn't want to die alone. It took out the water pump and the radiator in its death throes. My car and I ended up by the side of the road, over a hundred miles from my destination.

Rotten luck, no?

Yes, but not entirely rotten. In those pre-cell-phone days, I was pleased to find that I was within easy walking distance of a gas station with a pay phone. The AAA tow-truck service was soon hauling me and my disabled vehicle into the nearest town. Not only that, we were deposited at an auto shop (open despite the holiday) that sat directly opposite the street from the bus station. The one daily bus up to Sacramento was due to arrive within the hour. Barely sixty minutes after my car's misadventure, I was on a Continental Trailways bus, traveling toward the state capital again. I had called ahead to notify a friend of my plight. He picked me up at the station and drove me home.

Of course, a couple of days later I had to take the bus back down to the auto shop to collect my repaired car—which was a bit of a nuisance—but it feels petty to complain about it. As mishaps go, it was pretty thoroughly mitigated.

Perhaps you're not impressed by those two trivial automotive examples, but I can cite other instances that do not involve vehicles.

Education of Hard Knocks

Consider my grave misfortune in not completing my Ph.D. in math when I was first enrolled in a doctoral program. The department chair had prevailed upon me to accept a teaching assignment despite my reluctance. I thought I should concentrate on my graduate studies, but he pointed out that teaching assistants were often assigned lecture responsibilities and that he had a calculus class that needed an instructor. I taught the class and loved the experience. I never turned down another teaching assignment. I also never graduated, running out the clock on my eligibility for grad school without ever doing any research and never advancing to candidacy. (I passed all my classes and all of the written qualifying exams, but a Ph.D. is a research degree and I was found wanting.)

Disaster, right?

But that experience placed me on the road to the job I have today, a full-time teaching job which is the best job I've ever had.

Sweet. I could have ended up as one of those California State University faculty members now suffering from reduced pay and furloughs (which are worse than the cutbacks at many community colleges).

And there was that time between teaching gigs when I worked for a state agency in Sacramento. Everything was fine until the musical chairs that characterize the top management level of state service brought a thoroughly unqualified political appointee into the agency's executive position. One might think it would be fun to work for a legislator's mistress—but not so much. (And, to be fair, the legislator's divorce had come through before his paramour became our boss, so she was married to him by then.) She turned the workplace into a snakepit, but she also helped give me the courage to accept the temporary faculty appointment that later turned into a tenured position at my college. (Thanks, bitch.)

So perhaps her arrival on the scene wasn't such bad luck after all. (She was fired the year after I left, too.)

Old Man Gut Pain

The incidents keep piling up. Just the other evening, lounging comfortably with a book in my recliner, I sat up and felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. Ouch! I moved about gingerly. Ouch!

No doubt I was about to die from acute appendicitis.

I'm not really a hypochondriac. The pain was not sharp enough or persistent enough to make me drive to the local emergency room. It certainly wasn't bad enough to call 9-1-1. A Google search reassured me a little. I calmly went to bed and managed to fall asleep before long.

In the morning I woke up feeling better. No pain. I started to get up. Ouch!

Damn.

As it happened, I had no early morning classes that day. (Wouldn't you know it?) I called my doctor's office. As it happened, he had had a cancellation and he could see me immediately as the first patient of the day.

See what I mean?

He checked me out and informed me that it was merely muscle pain. No intervention was indicated (except, perhaps, ibuprofen). The bad news, such as it was, was that the pain might linger for quite a while, but eventually it should go away. It's not an unusual condition in men my age.

So I guess I have “Old Man Gut Pain.”

I'd rather not have it, of course. But, come to think of it, I haven't felt it in a few days. Maybe it's gone away already.

My life is charmed—in a very peculiar way.