"Self-Screwing", part 3

In earlier posts (here and here), I pondered why many underprivileged people vote "against their own interests".

Here's another point of view. This one is just as valid as -- but a lot scarier -- than the first two.

Bunco-Mania!

Oh, God.

I'm finally at that age when you and your friends think it's cool to throw "game night" parties. Tonight, we went to a Bunco party. For those of you who haven't played it before, the game involves switching partners (if this is all you know about the game, then you are going to be sorely disappointed) and throwing dice. You can have multiple tables playing, but there are four people to a table, with two teams to a table. The rules are as follows:

-- You score a point for each die rolled that matches the designated number/round (there are six rounds per game, corresponding to the numbers on the sides of the dice)
-- The roller keeps rolling until he/she doesn't roll the designated number for any die
-- Players next to each other must be on opposite teams
-- Rolling three of the same number that is not the designated number scores five points
-- Rolling three of the same number that matches the designated number scores 21 points, or a "Bunco"
-- A round continues until a designated head table signals it is time to end the round and switch tables. This happens as soon as either team at the head table scores 21 points. The winning team from each table advances to the next table, while the losers stay behind. The winners at the head table stay, while the losers move down to the tail table
-- On the next round, players can't be partners with the person they were partners with in the previous game
-- Each player must note on a piece of paper wins and losses for each round. Each player must also keep track of how many Buncos they have

We received the invitation for this party a few weeks ago, so I had some prior warning. I could have faked an illness or something. But no, dutiful husband that I am, I came along. When we go there, I found out the Seahawks game was going to be on TV. I'm no fan of pro sports, but at least watching the game would be more, uh, masculine. I wasn't the only one. A couple of my fellow male compatriots felt the same way.

But I had forgotten that we were playing for money. Earlier, each person playing paid five bucks. Money was going to be given to the person with the most wins, and to the one with the most losses. And a special prize would be given to the one with most Buncos. So it meant something. And as a competitive guy, I had to get that money.

It started out badly. In the first round, my team lost badly. But the table I was at least close to the TV.

The second round I lost as well. I got up and grabbed some food and some wine. Then it started turning around for me. I proceeded to win a few games until I made it to the head table. My trademark rolling (just grab 'em and drop 'em from high) scored plenty of points, and I even got a Bunco along the way.

I held the head table for six games, and I had the lead on wins. We were using a bell to signal the start and end of rounds, and I wielded it masterfully, like a clangy sword. And I was even better with the dice. I got plenty of fives, and I even rolled Buncos in two consecutive games. On fire. In the zone. That prize money was mine. Players at other tables were even emulating my roll, to Lisa's chagrin.

Then Paul, the host, abled the table. He sat down across from me, meaning he had chosen to team up with me. I grinned at him, but inside, my heart sank. If there's anybody I know who reeks of suckiness at parlor games, it's Paul. No offense to Paul. He's a great guy. Really nice and friendly. But he's got bad luck. You can smell it on him. He got on enough of a roll (no pun intended) to make it to the head table, but when he sat down, I knew his luck -- and mine -- was about to run out.

And I was right. In that next round, the other team scored plenty of points before we scored one. I don't remember Paul getting more than five points, and I didn't do much better. He was anchor tied to my leg, and there was nothing I could do about it. No amount of wine left could dull the pain. When the other team scored their 21st point, I sighed and looked at the bell mournfully. And then I rang it one last time.

And on to the tail table I went. Or the "ass's" end of the game, to me. I believe other players called it the cave, because it was in the living room that had no lights. The players there seemed like trolls, trapped in the dark, put in dour moods because of their incompetence and bad luck with the dice. And damn if the bad luck for me didn't continue. By rules, Paul and I had to be on different teams this time around. Thankfully. I was glad to be rid of him. But his team proceeded to whoop my team's ass.

For six more games, it continued. Trapped in the abyss of the cave, I soldiered on, piling up losses like the Mariner pitching staff. And I think I was even getting more troll-like (is that a hump and snaggle tooth I'm growing?) with every loss. I kissed that money goodbye. And I even lost my Bunco lead.

My only salvation came from the one person with even less luck than Paul. It was his wife, Amy. It started out really well for her. She scored ten points before my team had one. She even Buncoed (sp?). But fortunately for my team, the head table hadn't declared a winner yet. My teammate had huge runs of ten and eleven points (I contributed a little), and we eventually beat Amy (she was currently partnered with the floating filler/"spacer" player due to get an even number of players) by one point. We were the only ones to beat a Bunco. No small feat.

But I wasn't able to savor that win for long. Soon after that round, it was time to quit. The remaining couples who brought their kids had to leave (the ones who left before play started were wise to do so). And the game was called, with me batting .500 in wins and losses. I had done so well that I couldn't even qualify for most losses to get consolation money. The price of mediocrity.

We left, and I had to admit I had fun, even if grudgingly. I see nights of Cranium, Trivial Pursuit, and Charades in front of me. The slide to Bridge night at the retirement home has begun.

All About Me

I got this from Jeff today.

Rod,

Happy Birthday my friend. My birthday present to you is the following blog that you can keep private or post to your site. Your call. Enjoy it however you see fit, because it's your day.

Rod is 32. I remember a day when Rod was just 17. Senior year of high school. This shy high school buddy with a quick wit and killer jump shot was an immediate close friend. He had an amazing ability to make me feel comfortable right away, as if I had known him for years. With some guys it takes a lot of time before you can call some one "friend." Maybe it was because Tim, Joe and Trevor already knew him and spoke highly of him. Maybe it was because he just made me laugh. Maybe it was because I secretly hoped he would teach me to dance so that I could shed the stigma that has rightfully followed me my whole life (Hammer! Don't hurt'em!). Whatever way you look at it, Rod was a close friend from the first minute.

Summer vacations, college, roommates, and best friends. We've done it all and we have no intention of stopping any time soon.

What I really think it is about Rod that I love and cherish so much is his quiet acceptance of me as I am. I can look back at the last 15 years and realize that no matter how I changed and matured (he said hopefully) that Rod accepted me as his friend no matter what. I'm not talking about liking my hair cuts (of which there were many failed experiments) or digging on my sense of fashion (country songs are written about those failures) or my knack with the ladies (we still wonder how I landed Lavinia). Rather, Rod knows who I am and accepts me. I've never had to be more than that to him.

Let's face it. I know I've been an ass at times (I know I have.. give me a second to think of one time.. just a sec... well I'm sure it will come to me). I know that I can be stubbornly impatient. I know that I need to work on being modest (an effort I'm quite proud of). That said, Rod has his faults too. Our friendship has had the normal ups and downs. Actually that's a lie, we've had way more ups than downs, but my point is that we've had downs. But with the ups and downs, and the faults thrown in on top, we still accept each other. It's the most important thing, loving unconditionally.

Sure I may not be able to name that tune in less than 5 seconds like he can, and he may not be able to fathom the idea of sitting a bicycle seat voluntarily for 10 hours at a time, but we still celebrate the successes of the other when we are together. Case in point, I was leaving to cross America on my bicycle at an awfully early time of the morning, but there was Rod to give me a hug, tell me I was crazy and to make me promise to be safe.

On this day in which we celebrate Rod I think that people will celebrate different things. Some will celebrate Rod the son, one will celebrate Rod the husband, others Rod the friend, two dogs will celebrate Rod the Dad (which they do every day) ,still others Rod the co-worker, and a select few will claim to celebrate Rod their close/best friend. Myself, I'm again choosing to celebrate Rod my brother on the sixteenth of August.

I like to say that I've always learned from those around me. Rod is just one of those guys in my life that has shown me how to be a better friend. As I type this at my laptop I look up I see four 20 year-old faces staring back at me from a picture in Ellensburg, WA. Those guys knew what they had. They still know it. I don't need to say it Rod, but I will. I love you my friend.

Happy Birthday
Jeff

Thanks, man. It's heartfelt and very much appreciated. Dammit, now I have to be all nice and shit to him. :)

Smoke on the Water

On Friday night, Lisa and I drove over to Wenatchee, WA to go camping. I thought, cool, there should be some trails to run on. Nope. The park we were at, Confluence State Park, is on the Columbia River, but in a part of Wenatchee that was developing into a business district. So we had buildings all around us, and you can see the local Home Depot from our site. No trails, but the campground has a two mile perimeter, lined by grassy fields.

But there was an added bonus. Coming through Blewitt Pass that night, we could see the hills lit up from forest fires, several miles to the north. We weren't threatened by the fires when we got to camp, but Wenatchee is situated in a valley. You could see a layer smoke settle in the valley. It was so bad, you could see little bits of ash floating around. And it was still in the 90s at that time of night, so it was like everyone around was using wood stoves.

On Saturday morning, I decided to get a (relatively) early start and get in a run before breakfast. It was already hot. I ran anyway, deciding I would try to do a couple of loops around the campground. I only made it through one. The air still had that ashy smell, but that's not what made me quit. I was struggling a bit midway through the first loop, when I came upon a large group of teenagers. They had camped on the outside of the campgrounds so I had to run by them to stay on path. So I straightened up, sucked it in a little, lengthened my stride, and tried to not look at anyone. I should have been looking down more. As I ran by a group of girls, I rolled my ankle. I stumbled and almost fell.

Great.

I heard a couple of surprised, wincing "oohs" before I regained my form and composure. I'm thinking there were giggles, too. By the time I got back to my own campsite, breakfast was almost ready. Guess there's no time to do another loop. And it was over 95 degrees by then.

Yeah, that's it.

Real People for Kerry

MoveOn.org chose a winner for its Real People Ads contest. Among the finalists are folks who voted for Bush in 2000 but will not this time around. Among them are Iraq War vets, CEOs, contractors, Southern Baptists, former diplomats -- your "stereotypical" GOP supporters. The consistent theme seems to be betrayal: betrayal regarding reckless spending that weaken the economy; betrayal by "liberating" people in foreign countries while people here don't have health care; betrayal by touting "No Child Left Behind" while cutting education programs; betrayal by opening up public lands to corporations to exploit; betrayal by giving tax breaks to companies that send jobs overseas; betrayal by squandering our nation's esteem in the eyes of the world.

The first thought is to gloat, like Ha! You fools! You voted for this guy. Now look at the mess we're in! Sure, I'm angry that we're in this mess and I'm pissed that enough people were fooled by the I'm-a-compassionate-conservative-down-to-earth-Bible-toting-but-don't-practice-what-I-preach-cuz-rules-don't-apply-to-me-look-at-me-I'm-from-Texas-I-got-a-ranch-and-it's-okay-to-be-a-dumbshit-because-I'm-not-that-smart-just-like-you-not-an-elite-commie-ass-pounding-liberal-gonna-bring-back-honor-to-the-White-House-but-I-intend-to-fuck-you-all-and-help-my-corporate-buddies-hope-you're-not-paying-attention-oh-and-looky-I'm-a-war-hero-cuz-I-wear-a-flight-suit-with-a-padded-crotch bullshit. Me? Oh, I'm over it, though :) But we have to get past the blaming and move on and fix this. I'm more sad than anything, when you get down to it, and I'm relieved that people have realized that we are going nowhere with this guy. Better late than never.

Of Swift Boats and Christmas

Beau and I are currently debating the whole Kerry's Christmas trip to Cambodia thing brought up by the Swiftboat Vets for Truth.

Update: Atrios has a brief timeline of events, taken from the New York Times, regarding American military activities in Cambodia.

Here's my latest reply:

Okay. I took my time replying because I wanted to give an informed reply. Your comments area doesn't allow formatting, so links will be explicit, and normally blockquoted sections will be quoted. Here you go:

1. Do explain how Mr. Kerry was purportedly in Cambodia, listening to President Nixon telling the nation he wasn't there? When multiple witnesses, and Mr Kerry HIMSELF on many occasions, place him nearly 60 miles away in Vietnam at the time (oh, and uh, Nixon wasn't President at the time).

I don't think you got this quite right. First, let's examine John O'Neill's letter. In it, it quotes a speech that Kerry gave on the Senate floor:

"Mr. President, I remember Christmas of 1968 sitting on a gunboat in Cambodia. I remember what it was like to be shot at by Vietnamese and Khmer Rouge and Cambodians, and have the President of the United States telling the American people that I was not there; the troops were not in Cambodia."

And it quotes Kerry in an article in the Boston Globe in 1979:

"I remember spending Christmas Eve of 1968 five miles across the Cambodian border being shot at by our South Vietnamese allies who were drunk and celebrating Christmas. The absurdity of almost killed by our own allies in a country in which President Nixon claimed there were no American troops was very real."

Now, let's consider the context in which these things were said. Nixon officially denied -- in 1969 -- that there were US forces in Cambodia. Kerry is not so stupid as to forget who was the sitting President in 1968, and he knew which President made the denial and when. Years later, Kerry refers to Nixon's 1969 statement and then disputes it by saying he (Kerry) was in Cambodia in 1968, less than a year before the Nixon denial was made. This is not the order of how it was said in his remarks, but it is clear that that was the intent. This is a case of taking a quote out of context.

Next, as for Kerry's actual location on Christmas, 1968, I don't know. A couple of his crewmates have denied going into Cambodia at the time, and Kerry has mentioned it himself (most notable in his biography by Douglas Brinkley). However, let's consider a couple of things. First, we know that Kerry's boat patrolled rivers along the borders of Cambodia. We also know that in March 1969, Nixon ordered the secret bombings of Cambodia, three months after the Christmas in question. I'm not too clear on the history of when Cambodia became an "official" target, but Nixon did deny there were US military forces and/or activity there. And many books have been written how there were plenty of "unsanctioned" or illegal U.S. operations in the Vietam war. Isn't it plausible, then, that Kerry's Swift boat -- as well as others -- would have been operating in Cambodia, under orders, though not officially sanctioned? According to Kerry, among his operations, he and his crew ferried weapons to sympathetic Cambodians. Other boats (perhaps even Kerry's) ferried special forces and CIA operatives to locations within Cambodia. And after all, you need to do some recon before a bombing run can be made (if Johnson was still in office at the time, I'm sure he would have ordered the bombing). You need people on the ground at your targets to pinpoint them. Like I said, it isn't clear exactly where he was on Christmas, 1968. Maybe he was in Cambodia at the time, or maybe he was taking dramatic license. Or maybe he was offering up a lame denial of doing something "illegal" there. I mean, politics aside, his superiors among the Swift Boat group would probably the first to deny such operations since they were the ones to order those boats in there. If the official line of the Nixon administration was to deny such activities, why not continue that statement down the line of command? I just went on a little tangent. It may be a stretch, but it is valid. Regardless of where Kerry actually was on Christmas, 1968, it's a minor point. It is still more than likely that he and his crew operated in Cambodia at least once during that tour of duty.


2. Why won't he release his medical records from the time? Could it be that one of his Purple Hearts came from a *cough*self-inflicted*cough* wound that was treated with a BAND-AID?

I don't know why. However, the Kerry Campaign did release medical records to the non-partisan group, FactCheck.org (This group analyzes statements from both major political parties for accuracy). Here's their analysis of the Swift Boat group. In it, it says:

"...The Swift Boat Veterans for Truth further says Kerry didn't deserve his third purple heart, which was received for shrapnel wounds in left buttocks and contusions on right forearm..."

"...And according to a Navy casualty report released by the Kerry campaign, the third purple heart was received for "shrapnel wounds in left buttocks and contusions on his right forearm when a mine detonated close aboard PCF-94..."

This second statement refers to two separate events. The first, the self-inflicted wound in the butt, caused by shrapnel when Kerry was too close to rice bin explosions caused by a grenade (or grenades) that he threw. This wound by itself would qualify for a Purple Heart because of a "friendly fire" rule:

"...In any case, even a 'friendly fire' injury can qualify for a purple heart 'as long as the friendly projectile or agent was released with the full intent of inflicting damage or destroying enemy troops or equipment,' according to the website of the Military Order of the Purple Heart. All agree that rice was being destroyed that day on the assumption that it otherwise might feed Viet Cong fighters..."

Kerry's arm injury was not caused by the rice/grenade incident. It was caused by a mine that damaged his boat:

"...And according to a Navy casualty report released by the Kerry campaign, the third purple heart was received for 'shrapnel wounds in left buttocks and contusions on his right forearm when a mine detonated close aboard PCF-94,' Kerry's boat. As a matter of strict grammar, the report doesn't state that both injuries were received as a result of the mine explosion, only the arm injury..."

Kerry's diary seems to match up with the official reports of both incidents. And as for the "superficial wound" that accounted for Kerry's first Purple Heart:

"Two who appear in the ad say Kerry didn't deserve his first purple heart. Louis Letson, a medical officer and Lieutenant Commander, says in the ad that he knows Kerry is lying about his first purple heart because 'I treated him for that.' However, medical records provided by the Kerry campaign to FactCheck.org do not list Letson as the 'person administering treatment' for Kerry’s injury on December 3, 1968 . The medical officer who signed this sick call report is J.C. Carreon, who is listed as treating Kerry for shrapnel to the left arm."

"In his affidavit, Letson says Kerry's wound was self-inflicted and does not merit a purple heart. But that's based on hearsay, and disputed hearsay at that. Letson says 'the crewman with Kerry told me there was no hostile fire, and that Kerry had inadvertently wounded himself with an M-79 grenade.' But the Kerry campaign says the two crewmen with Kerry that day deny ever talking to Letson."

"Also appearing in the ad is Grant Hibbard, Kerry’s commanding officer at the time. Hibbard’s affidavit says that he 'turned down the Purple Heart request,' and recalled Kerry's injury as a 'tiny scratch less than from a rose thorn.'"

"That doesn't quite square with Letson's affidavit, which describes shrapnel 'lodged in Kerry's arm' (though 'barely.')"

"Hibbard also told the Boston Globe in an interview in April 2004 that he eventually acquiesced about granting Kerry the purple heart."

"Hibbard: 'I do remember some questions on it. . .I finally said, OK if that's what happened. . . do whatever you want'"

"Kerry got the first purple heart after Hibbard left to return to the US ."

3. The inconsistencies of Kerry's 4-month stay in Vietnam abound.

Yes, I'm sure there are -- for BOTH John Kerry, as well as his detractors. And let's not forget that Kerry's stay in Vietnam was not four months. The events that are being disputed happened on Kerry's second tour of duty in Vietnam.

Kickin' it in C-Town

Nope, not Chicago. I'm talkin' Carnation, baby.

Anyway, we hit the first annual Carnation Mosaic Music & Arts Festival to check out our fave singer-songwriter, Jonathan Kingham. He was headlining the all-day event, which was complete with artist booths, crafts in the barn, and food. Jonathan's set was set for 6:30 in the evening, and we got there with a few minutes to spare. As we drove down the long driveway to the farm hosting it, we noticed there were plenty of signs for parking. I could see cars parked across from the farm in a large lot. But as we got there, the lot was practically empty.

There was nobody manning the ticket booth, so we just walked in. What was inside was pretty sad. Here's this big field, room enough for a few thousand people. Practically empty. At this time, there were only two art booths, and there were three food booths. None getting that much business. On the field, in front of the little stage for the musicians were about thirty or so people, spread out.

Jonathan played a long set to round out the event. He featured some old tunes and plenty of old ones, which as far as I can tell will make his next release an eclectic one. It went across the board: folk, R&B, country, a little jazz. And as usual, he busted into an improv rap during his Rain song.

After the set, we talked to him a bit. I kidded him, telling him that he's gotten used to playing small crowds. On the way out, we bought a CD from one of the other performers, Bill Mallonee. We felt bad about not paying the entry fee, but one of the organizers, Nancy told us not to worry about it. Lisa gave her 20 bucks anyway. Nancy was grateful. I don't know if they made enough to make back what they spent. Having gone to some bit of trouble to host an event (though certainly not to this extent) ourselves, we can feel their pain.

I hope this festival comes back next year. I think some more advertising will help bring the crowds in.

Who's the real friend of the military?

The following piece of spam somehow got into Trevor's hands:

Subject: John Kerry on Defense

He voted to kill the Bradley Fighting Vehicle
He voted to kill the M-1 Abrams Tank
He voted to kill every aircraft carrier laid down from 1988
He voted to kill the Aegis anti-aircraft system
He voted to Kill the F-15 Strike Eagle
He voted to Kill the Block 60 F-16
He voted to Kill the P-3 Orion upgrade
He voted to Kill the B-1
He voted to Kill the B-2
He voted to Kill the Patriot Anti Missile System
He voted to Kill the FA-18
He voted to Kill the B-2
He voted to Kill the F117

In short, he voted to kill every military appropriation for the development and deployment of every weapons systems since 1988, to include the battle armor for our troops. With Kerry as president our Army will be made up of naked men running around with sticks and clubs. He also voted to kill all anti terrorism activities of every agency of the US. Government and to cut the funding of the FBI by 60%, to cut the funding for the CIA by 80%, and cut the funding for the NSA by 80%. But then, he voted to increase OUR funding for U.N. operations by 800%!!!

Is THIS a President YOU want?

Trevor, a former Air Force officer, knows something about acquisition/appropriation of military equipment. Here's his articulate reply. I hope it gets back to the one who sent it. (Sorry, Trev. It's too good not to be shared with the masses)

Can anybody name one of those weapons systems that helped during the World Trade Tower attack? Just curious.

Bradley fighting vehicle? I completed the first phase of training as an acquisitions officer for the Air Force. Some of you may find it interesting to hear that this program was held up as an example of how to completely screw up an acquisition and waste huge piles of tax money on junk (again, this was a course taught by military officers for military officers). I won't give a point-by-point rebuttal to the original e-mail, but I will offer a different perspective.

First, Congress members who limit military expenditures are not the enemy of the military. Military representatives will always supply creative ideas for improving combat effectiveness. That's their job. But a creative idea is not necessarily a good idea. If Congress were to fund every idea from soldiers or weapons contractors, our arsenal would become the materiel equivalent of a cancerous tumor--bloated, chaotic, and non-functional. Hence, Congressional restraint not only reserves funds for other important programs, but actually benefits military combat effectiveness.

Second, Congress members who vote to fund military appropriations are not necessarily the friend of the military. Instructors from the aforementioned training program were not shy about listing off stupid ideas pushed by Congress on a bewildered military. Weapons sytems tend to generate enthusiasm in government officials in proportion to the income they provide to home-state constituents and corporate friends, not necessarily in any relationship whatsoever to the desires expressed by the military itself.

Obviously, military appropriations are a complex affair, requiring considerable sophistication and practical experience for proper handling (good enough reason for me to leave the career field). Of course, Congress approves military funding--not the President--but perhaps a combat-experienced vet in the White House could exert some constructive influence on the process. Would that be Bush or Kerry? Hmmm.... you decide.

When ya gotta go, ya gotta go...

Noam has a great take on McCain's opposition to the Swiftboat Captains for "Truth" bullshit. For a breakdown of McCain's remarks, I give you Wonkette.

Oh, and if you're going to sign on to a piece of libel, make sure to read it first, dumbass.

Finally, the truth comes out

More than just a slip of the tongue, I'm sure.

The Greatest Teacher of All Time Returns

A note to all Junior High boys: Start your engines!

She's back.