Simulated Hell.

The primary reason for light posting:

When I arrived at the apartment Monday evening, after a good sales day at job #1, and switched on the AC all appeared to go well. Cool air began to flow bringing down the temperature and humidity that had built up all day. This week has been the hottest of the summer, so far.

After prepping supper I began checking email and realized that I was sweating. That's not the way it ought to work. Checking the thermostat I noticed that the room temperature had actually climbed 5 degrees. The air blowing from the vents was no longer cool, but hot. WTF?

Switched off the unit, left the ceiling fans running and opened the windows. It was 10 degrees cooler (?) outside. A chat with the landlady sent a tech out the very next morning to fix the problem. We thought. He arrived before I left for work at job #2 and I asked if he needed access to the apartment to do the work. I could have left the door unlocked and he could lock it when he was finished. He assured me that as long as he had access to the basement and the compressor outside all would be taken care of.

Not so much.

Arrived Tuesday evening to find a note on the doorknob explaining that he would need access to the air handler which must be located in the apartment. How this could be, neither the LL nor I had a clue. We searched and searched, then at last came upon a rectangular piece of plywood afixed to the ceiling of a small closet used as a pantry. Removing this cover we found the air handler in the small crawl space in the attic above the pantry. The opening was so small that I knew the tech who had been there that morning would never fit through. How embarrassing that would have been...

Placing another call to the repair service I explained the whole situation and highlighted the fact that the next tech must be very thin. The appointment was made for Friday morning at 7:30 a.m. Another night of heat, gulping lots of water, and with little sleep. Thunderstorms came and went with no change in the temps or humidity.

The tech arrived 5 minutes early on Friday at a steamy, hot apartment and performed miracles. Well, it seemed that way to me. He replaced the clogged air filter (not knowing the unit was in the attic the filter hadn't been touched in the 8 years it's been up there), then went to work on the compressor. Within an hour cool air began to flow and I was able to breathe again after 4 days in simulated Hell. He hung around a while longer poking and prodding all around the outdoor compressor, then I helped him seal the access hole to the attic.

While he fiddled with his diagnostic widgets outside, I dressed for another day at job #2. Believe me, I hated to leave the cool, dryness of the apartment but knowing what awaited me at evening made it all worthwhile. Another good day at the restaurant followed by a festive end-of-shift cocktail and I was on the way to the apt. Switched on the AC with some trepidation, changed out of the work drag, took a shower, and threw on shorts and a tee shirt. It was already comfy as I listened to the Pet Shop Boys sipping a G & T. I treated myself to a surf and turf supper of baby top sirloin steak, shrimp, zucchini, and a tossed salad. Yes, above is the actual supper from last evening. and while the pic isn't very good, the food certainly was. The first full meal I'd had all week. This heat and humidity kills my appetite.

What a luxury to sit in quiet coolness and enjoy a real meal for a change. As the old song goes, "you don't know what you've got til it's gone." But, we got through it and all is well.

Another plus - it turns out that I didn't have to work a half day today and that is a very good thing. I have been chopping onions and garlic for the Jerk Chicken and wouldn't you know, I am missing one ingredient - orange juice. Maybe I can "borrow" some from the LL. Not in any mood to fight traffic or the heat for a half cup of OJ!!! Jeez.

More later.
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Happy Caturday

Happy, indeed. A quiet day off and spent in air conditioned comfort.

More later.
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What Harvey Milk's Medal of Freedom Means to us All

From HuffPo written by Chuck Wolfe:

When Stuart Milk stands before the president and the country to accept the Presidential Medal of Freedom on behalf of his late, slain uncle Harvey Milk, it'll be a moment of incredible pride for the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community (LGBT).

Yet this is a moment that will transcend identity politics because Harvey Milk represents the aspirations of all Americans. More than 200 years ago Washington, Jefferson and Adams fought to create a more perfect union. They probably had no idea that their vision would be embodied in the late 20th century by a gay, Jewish camera shop owner in San Francisco.

Milk's story, as recounted in last year's Academy Award-winning movie Milk and books such as The Mayor of Castro Street, involves his struggle to become one of the first openly elected gay public officials in the U.S. His political ambitions coincided with the rising gay rights movement and resulted in him winning a seat on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors.

Simultaneous to his election, another candidate named Dan White won a seat on the board. In 1978, White resigned his seat only to later want it back. He became frustrated that the appointment wasn't going to happen, went to City Hall, and murdered Milk in cold blood along with Mayor George Moscone.

Milk's murder could have had a chilling effect on the then burgeoning gay rights movement. Many forces were already actively at work to put gays back in the closest including crusader Anita Bryant. Instead it's a testament to American idealism that in the 30 years since Milk's assassination, we have continued to appreciate and honor his political work.

In fact, there are now more than 440 openly LGBT public officials in our country who serve in states as diverse as Alabama, Idaho and Kentucky. That's real progress, but even that number seems small when you realize there are more than one half million elected offices in the U.S.

The rest is HERE.

More later.
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FBI Raids NOLA Police over Katrina Killings

Katrina stories and investigations are far from over - four years on. Every phone conversation with my sister or friends contains new revelations about the days and weeks following the storm. Now this...From Raw Story:

Nearly four years after the police shootout that took the lives of Ronald Madison and James Brissette on New Orleans’ Danziger Bridge, the FBI raided the offices of the police investigators who had been looking into the deadly incident.

The bureau’s move suggests that the federal government may be serious about seeing police officers prosecuted over the Sept. 4, 2005 shootout, when Madison and Brissette were allegedly killed by police while four others were wounded as they crossed a bridge in the midst of the Hurricane Katrina crisis.

It also suggests the FBI may be worried that New Orleans police are trying — or may in the future try — to destroy evidence of what happened that day.

According to ProPublica, “the police officers involved say they began shooting in response to gunfire from the civilians; that claim is vigorously disputed by the shooting victims.”

“Survivors of the high-profile shooting incident have said they were unarmed when ambushed by officers on the bridge, who came to the site because they heard a radio call that described other police officers in distress,” the New Orleans Times-Picayune reported last year. “But police officers have maintained that police were in a firefight, shooting only after they were fired upon.”

According to an article in Friday’s Times-Picayune, FBI agents seized “the files and computer hard drives of two officers assigned to investigate police conduct” in the incident.

Last year, the federal government announced it would be investigating the possibility of federal charges against some or all of the officers involved in the shootout, after a state prosecution of the incident fell apart.

According to New Orleans TV station WDSU, the “investigation had been years in the making and the probe into the police department is broader than the events that happened on the Danziger Bridge that left two dead and four wounded.”

Harry Rosenberg, a former US attorney, told WDSU that FBI raids on police homicide squads are rare. “It’s done when the FBI believes evidence may be destroyed if officers or other individuals become aware of a criminal investigation and are likely to dispose of electronic data or paper evidence that might assist the FBI in its investigation,” Rosenberg said.

WDSU also stated that the federal investigation would look at “the police-involved shooting of Adolph Grimes on New Year’s Eve and the death of Henry Glover, whose body was found in a burned out car in the days after Hurricane Katrina.”

The Times-Picayune reported in June that federal authorities are investigating Glover’s death. According to the paper, the owner of the car in which Glover’s body was found said he last saw it in the possession of the New Orleans police, before it was found burned with Glover’s body inside.

“A community group that has been monitoring each of the cases said it’s glad to see the FBI push for more information,” WDSU reported.

“This has been a long time coming,” Evelyn Lynn of the activist group Safe Streets Strong Communities told WDSU. “The police department here has been in crisis for a long time. Having federal help is going to help a lot in terms of the cases and the reforms that we need to make in the department.”

It appears that George Bush isn't the only person who doesn't care about black people. Another piece of our national shame over this disaster.

And so it goes.

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Classic: Dusty Springfield & The Pet Shop Boys

This is the first I've seen of this video and to my delight it features Chris Lowe. I've had a crush on him for over 20 years. He has beautiful eyes, an incredible mouth, is a good dancer - and his musical talent ain't bad either.

I'll have lovely dreams tonight.

Hope you do, too.

And so it goes.
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The Countdown to Labor Day...

Friday was as beautiful as Thursday was ugly - in every possible way. Woke to temps in the upper 60's and a cool breeze blew in from the Atlantic. Humidity was low and the sky was clear and bright blue. Today turned out to be an exact duplicate. For some reason I feel happy, if more than a little overwhelmed by the present work schedule. Doing surprisingly well though, if I may say so myself. And I just did!

With another 6-day work week under the belt, counting down to Labor Day and the end of the tourist season, I am looking forward to the less hectic work environment. I am actually looking forward to Autumn this year. Since I haven't looked forward to anything these past three years, this is very telling about my frame of mind. Yes, I notice this stuff. Annoying, isn't it?

No new friends to speak of, but that will change as I get out and socialize more in the cooler months. As least that's the plan. When I begin to see the fruits of my labors, so to speak, and enjoy a bit of that gay "disposable income" everyone talks about, I'll know that I have made a significant dent in the ever growing bills - medical or otherwise.

The boss at job #2 is definitely keeping me on after the summer - so, I suppose I performed well enough - but I have no idea how many days or in what capacity. It was interesting to hear him talk about what the place is like off-season. The more relaxing atmosphere, regular customers and locals returning when the parking meters are shut down, and the changes in the menu he has planned. Saying basically, "you're going to love it"! Sounds great to me. I am grateful to be a part of something, and this something is right up my alley.

Truth be told, I didn't expect to land the job. I didn't know if I would fit in, or if I was too old, or even if the owners didn't want to get involved because of the previous life. This was one of our favourite local restaurants and had been customers for about 10 years before the relationship dissolved. But, I thought, what the hell! Maybe they wouldn't even remember me, I downloaded the application, completed and hand delivered it to the restaurant. I was shocked when I got the call a week later for an interview; surprised when they called back and offered me the job.

Experiencing the restaurant from this 'other' perspective has been quite an education. Having always loved working with the public, this restaurant especially has been great fun and challenging for a guy my age. I learn something new every day so what's not to love! Bits of information helpful to make things run smoothly are shared often. As if the boss chooses the precise time when the info will most likely stick in my gray matter.

Of course Autumn will be a sad time as the students working for the summer return to their countries and universities in September and October. We've become friends and I know I will miss them. They keep everyone cheerful by noting that they have Internet access and will keep in touch. The two guys from Jordan want me to think seriously about visiting them in Amman in the future. I would like that very much. Practically speaking, it's not likely to happen anytime soon. Others will return to Russia, Ukraine and Romania, to name a few. I have been blessed to get to know them. Maybe I was a positive example of an older American who was more interested in them than in the politics of their countries. At least I get that impression.

I plan to take pictures of them all before we go our separate ways and they will be posted here. Promise.

Four more weeks to Labor Day, but who's counting? Um, me.

And so it goes.
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Dance Caturday

Yes, and I Remember it, too. Oy!

Work to be done here, so more later.

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Day of the Locusts, er' Crazies

Where is Karen Black or Donald Sutherland when you need them?

Great swarms of crazies were everywhere today. The day was dark and drizzly so they were wreaking havoc among the locals.

See, when it rains on their vacation, it is our fault. If they can't get into a particular movie (because other crazies got there first) it's our fault. And if they can't find a parking spot at the Outlet centers, well, they simply block the entire right lane of the highway until a spot opens and then fist fights break out because two crazies swear they each saw the spot first. Oh, and yes, that's our fault too.

Traffic was bumper to bumper from Ocean City, MD to Lewes, DE and that's our fault, too. One brain dead, painfully over sunburned idiot whined about the traffic asking why it was so heavy and took so long to drive up to the outlets and movies. I told him it was because his idea was not original, that everybody else decided to do the same thing. He just looked at me with wide, vacant eyes. Well, Duh!

Sirens wailed all day as accidents brought out police, rescue and fire folks to attend to more results of the crazy.

I left work at job #1 at 3:30 pm, I got in at 4:45 pm - one hour and fifteen minutes to drive 6 miles back to the apartment. This is a record of some sort, but I don't want a prize. Just pray to get back in one piece without incident.

As I've written before, I hope to G*d that legislation will be passed banning drivers from using hand-held cell phones and/or texting.

Something needs to be done, the crazies are out of control assuming these two dangerous practices are their "right" not privilege.

I got your rights right here, asshat!

A customer of mine - a very handsome man - told me that when he and the family come down on holiday they turn off the cell phones (only use the land line at the house) and remove their watches. Immediately!!! They eat when they are hungry, beach it when they are in the mood, read or watch a movie when weather is uncooperative, and sleep when they are tired. Works for me. Wish he'd bottle that and give it to the crazies who have no clue as to how to relax on vacation.

Hmmm! I smell olives and that means a martini is in the vicinity. Yes!!!

Cheers!

And so it goes.
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DNC: "Enough of the Mob"

Listening to clips of various town hall meetings yesterday on NPR - not to mention their own stoopid running commentary - I wondered if anyone was going to go after these crazies. Then this arrived in my inbox last night.

Now, when are the 90 percent of those attending, who really have valid questions on the issues going to stand up and out shout them or have them ejected from the meetings?

We all know what this is really about. There is a black man in the White House and that is unacceptable. Plain and simple.

Maybe more later...busy week.

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(Almost) One of Those Days

An altercation at job #1 this afternoon almost ruined my entire day. Actually, I would have let it ruin the day. Fortunately, a little help from old friends brought me back from the edge.

There are certain things that make me see red and all rational thinking goes out the window. This incident triggered indirectly, one of those things. As I replayed the incident driving back to the apartment I began to get really angry then sad that I allowed myself to be sucked into such questionable behavior.

As soon as I arrived it was clear that the quiet evening I imagined was in real jeopardy, absentmindedly turned on the CD player and promptly stopped in my tracks. As if on cue, the song "Think about Your Troubles" (written by Harry Nilsson for an animated TV special titled "The Point") began to play, and being sung by Holly Near it forced me to sit down immediately and listen to the lyrics. Although I've known them by heart for years they took on new meaning and in context to the incident gave me a whole 'nother perspective.

Thought I'd share. I love Harry Nilsson:

Sit beside the breakfast table
Think about your troubles
Pour yourself a cup of tea
Then think about the bubbles
You can take your teardrops
And drop 'em in a teacup
Take 'em down to the river side
And throw 'em over the side
To be swept up by a current
Then taken to the ocean
To be eaten by some fishes
Who were eaten by some fishes
And swallowed by a whale
Who grew so old
He decomposed

He died and left his body
To the bottom of the ocean
Now everybody knows
That when a body decomposes
The basic elements are give back to the ocean
And the sea does what it oughta
And soon the salty water
Which is not too good for drinkin'
'Cause it tastes just like a teardrop
So we run it through a filter
And it comes out of a faucet
Where it pours into a teapot
Which is just about to bubble
Now....
Think about your Troubles

Thanks to Harry and Holly, I have reclaimed that quiet evening after all.

And so it goes.
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Teach Drinking?

As the blogging day began on a drinking theme, I thought I'd run this interesting article up the flagpole and see if anybody salutes.

From The Atlantic, by John McCardell

High-school seniors tend to hold romantic notions of college life: newfound freedoms, enlightenment, keg-fueled free-for-alls. But the last attraction has lately achieved a new prominence: at one major university, student visits to the emergency room for alcohol-related treatment have increased by 84 percent in the past three years. Between 1993 and 2001, 18-to-20-year-olds showed a 56 percent jump in the rate of heavy-drinking episodes. Underage drinkers now consume more than 90 percent of their alcohol during binges. These alarming rates have life-threatening consequences: each year, underage drinking kills some 5,000 young people and contributes to roughly 600,000 injuries and 100,000 cases of sexual assault among college students.

The way our society addresses this problem has been about as effective as a parachute that opens on the second bounce. Clearly, state laws mandating a minimum drinking age of 21 haven’t eliminated drinking by young adults—they’ve simply driven it underground, where life and health are at greater risk. Merely adjusting the legal age up or down doesn’t work—we’ve tried that already and failed. But federal law has stifled the ability to conceive of more creative solutions in the only place where the Constitution says such debate should happen—in the state house—because any state that sets its drinking age lower than 21 forfeits 10 percent of its federal highway funds. This is called an “incentive.”

So what might states, freed from this federal penalty, do differently? They might license 18-year-olds—adults in the eyes of the law—to drink, provided they’ve completed high school, attended an alcohol-education course (that consists of more than temperance lectures and scare tactics), and kept a clean record. They might even mandate alcohol education at a young age. And they might also adopt zero-tolerance laws for drunk drivers of all ages, and require ignition interlocks on their cars. Such initiatives, modeled on driver’s education, might finally reverse the trend of consumption by young people at ever earlier ages. Binge drinking is as serious a crisis today as drunk driving was two decades ago. It’s time we tackled the problem like adults.

John McCardell is a president emeritus and a professor of history at Middlebury College.

Growing up in New Orleans beer and wine were always in the house, with a fine Bourbon added to the mix during the winter holidays and Mardi Gras. Everything ended with Lent. I was told that if I wanted to try anything to do whatever it was in the house with everyone around. Don't be ashamed. It would come to light sooner or later, anyway so save everyone the embarrassment.A good rule, at least to me.

When there was a Crawfish or Crab Boil I was always given a beer - or two as I got older. Nothing was ever denied. During the holiday season it was not uncommon the my family to enjoy a highball and by age 14, I was enjoying one, as well. Truth be told, nobody in the family had a drinking problem - it was all taken for granted that certain foods and seasons called for certain elements to give more pleasure to the family as a whole. I realize that if this was family tradition in some states today, my parents would be arrested and I'd be a ward of the state. Thank G*d for a Cajun childhood.

As a result of this I suppose, unique upbringing, I didn't feel the need to binge drink. Oh sure, I've had days and nights of excesses - both food and drink - so no, I ain't no angel, cher.

When I moved to NYC the drinking age was 18 and for years there was pressure from the neighboring states of New Jersey, and Connecticut to raise the legal age to 21, as was the law in those states. The argument was that 18 to 20 year olds were flocking to NYC where they could drink legally and those states were losing revenue. To me that didn't hold water. Since they couldn't legally drink in their home state anyway, how did this cause a revenue drop? Never did get a satisfactory answer to that one. The prudes finally won out and the age was bumped up to 21. I forget what the year was, and who cares, anyway?

What I found most infuriating and unfair was that it was OK for an 18 year old teenager to go to Viet Nam and die as 'a man' for his country, but at home he was still 'a child', legally speaking. Just my two-cents, plain.

Well, Cheers!

Note: The image above is a Sazerac cocktail, the official cocktail of New Orleans. If it wasn't so damned hot and humid I would have one this evening. However, I think a G & T would be a better choice.

Maybe more later. Maybe not.

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Drunken Caturday

I missed the Drinking Liberally gathering on Thursday at the Parrot, having to work later than expected. And this was the first to be held 'downstate' as they say. Maybe there aren't enough liberal bloggers in the county to warrant such events. Still, it would have been nice to put a face on some of the bloggers I read almost daily.

Click the image to embiggen. As usual, it's from here.

More later.
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