The Voice of Treason

In New Orleans we have reports of looting; in Baghdad, over 900 people have died as a result of a stampede. And here, gas prices have shot up again.

I had to go out today and drive to the other side of town. The afternoon local talk radio host asked people to picture a city about the size of ours under water. I took a moment while I sat at the light and visualized that.

I have to give credit to T for the Aruba comment. It actually took me a moment to remember her name when he asked. That poor girl’s mother. She worked so hard to keep her daughter’s name in the news. And then there was that other blonde…the one camped out in Crawford. Suzy? Sandy?

We mocked the people who sat on Bourbon Street and drank daiquiris, but it appears the French Quarter - which sits a little higher than the rest of the city - was virtually spared. Says T: “No wonder it’s called the French Quarter. All those people with their hands over their hands, waiting for the American military to rescue them…”

I get the joke, but the big picture’s not so funny. Everyone’s sitting and waiting for the government to tell them what to do and come rescue them. There are rats and sharks and alligators in that water, they say. And what about the creeping socialism? I suspect sharks are less dangerous.

The cable news people all got out the big thesaurus for this one. Was this a case of media hype, or was this really a huge storm? The adjectives were everywhere and the words were getting longer. After a while I stopped listening, but then one word caught my attention: sinister.

Sinister? If you mean threatening, ominous, or menacing, then that makes sense. But this was hinting at dark, evil, wicked. It’s nature. It’s a storm. How is that evil? Storms just happen. They don’t intentionally target anyone. I just thought this was odd.

But then it made sense when the next description was “a storm of biblical proportions.” Where is the media going with this?

Before the storm actually hit, FNC reporters like Shepard Smith were incredulous that people didn’t know Kat was coming. A few who knew and didn’t care were sipping daiquiris in a bar on Bourbon Street. How the hell do you not know what’s coming, I asked. T pointed out that not everyone is glued to FNC or even cares about what’s going on in the outside world. They have lives and are too busy to pay attention.

It reminds me how it always amazed me when coworkers hadn’t heard a major news story or didn’t know an election was coming up or didn’t know who the candidates were. We’ve known a particular couple for ten years now - they’re in their 40’s - and they always ask me around election time about the difference between Democrats and Republicans. “Now which one’s which again?” I know it’s sometimes hard to tell, but there is a difference. But these two people have chosen to insulate themselves. If it’s not happening to them directly, they don’t want to know. I suspect they don’t vote.

Another question: where are the radios? Communication is impossible and even people who thought they were prepared suddenly realized they don’t have access to a working radio. When I was a kid everybody had a transistor radio. In fact, one kid who lived in our building had one permanently attached to his ear. You’d walk into a hardware store or a bar - there was always a radio. Depending on where you were in the city it was tuned in to either a Cubs game or a White Sox game - or a news show.

When I get into the car, the first thing I do is turn on the radio. When I’m getting ready for work in the morning (well, when I was doing that) I listen to the radio. Not FM, not music. I listen to the big AM news talk station.

There’s so much about this story that’s horrible, but the part that’s wearing me down the most is the animal factor. People who stayed behind to be with their pets. And all the abandoned pets.

The other thing that’s wearing me down is the coverage. It reminds me of the earthquake of 1989. Politicians and reporters were in a frenzy. The catastrophe was all about them. I was watching the first few minutes of the ballgame - I was working a 6PM to 6AM shift then - and I heard “What the - !” before the picture disappeared.

“Uh-oh.”

Then I noticed the glass and metal shelving I was sitting next to was shaking and the water in the 55 gallon fish tank on the other side of the room was splashing and hitting the floor. I’d lived through several earthquakes in the Bay Area and the far northern parts of the state and none of them felt like this. The first thought in your head if you’re in California during an earthquake is “This is the big one. San Francisco is gone.”

I actually went to work. I had to drive a mile and it took forever to get there. Happily, I was told to go home because there was no power and they had to check for chemical and gas leaks. Great, a night off and I have no electricity. But I always have a battery operated radio, so I sat in the dark and listened to the reports. Each hour the national report figures grew. Hundreds dead. That one local politician - and I forget his name now - was making it sound like he was standing knee-deep in corpses. I pictured buildings and bridges reduced to rubble. Hours later the power was restored and the TV came on. The first image was of that car driving over the bridge and disappearing.

As much as people would like to compare Katrina to the Loma Prieta earthquake or September 11, they really can’t. And it isn’t fair to even attempt the comparison.

I was up most of the night watching the coverage, so when the phone rang and it was from assisted living and they were telling me my mother was complaining of chest pains, I had just enough time to get a cup of coffee and get dressed. I was out all day: first at her doctor’s office, then at Walgreens, then back at Walgreens for a new prescription that was delayed because they couldn’t interpret the doctor’s handwriting. While I waited for them to get in touch with him, I sat with my mother at her place and watched FNC.

I figured if I put her in front of the TV, it would take her mind right off her chest pains. It worked.

“Why would people live there?”

“You should talk!”

This coming from a woman who lived near both the San Andreas and Calaveras faults. But I can’t point fingers. Would I have evacuated? Let’s just say that tomorrow there was a looming disaster in my city and I was told by authorities that I had to get out.

It would be tough. I’d have to make the decision to leave my house and all my possessions. I’d grab food, water, toiletries, some clothes, a battery operated radio and flashlights, and eyeglasses. I generally wear contacts, but there’s no way I’m going to deal with them without access to plumbing. I might even grab a back-up pair of specs. (That old Twilight Zone episode with Burgess Meredith — Time Enough At Last — made a lasting impression on me. As soon as I got a job I bought several pairs of eyeglasses and convinced my sister to do the same. No one myopic should risk being without corrective lenses. There are three things I’d do if I were rich. Pay for poor people to get their eyes tested and get glasses. My myopic sisters and I had to go years without glasses and it was…well, more on that another time. Second, I would pay the veterinary bills of people who couldn’t afford them. Third, I would give money to people to create businesses and, in turn, they would have to do the same once they were successful. Shoot - throw in dentistry, too. I was twelve before I ever saw a dentist, and my sister went to a dentist only once. She tried everything to remove a tooth and when she realized nothing was going to relieve the pain, she agreed to go to my other sister’s dentist to have it extracted. She was in her forties, I think, at the time.)

Do I have all my “important papers,” photographs, and any other must-haves in one spot to quickly grab before I run out the door? Of course not. I don’t even know if I have my birth certificate in this house.

The dogs. This is the hard part. T and I are on no medications, but the dogs are. We’d have to grab food and water and meds (need a can opener for the wet food and a way to refrigerate insulin - oh, don’t forget the syringes!), and plastic bags. Hopefully we’ll be able to get them out of the car for regular breaks.

We have credit cards, cash, and the dogs - we’re good to go. Oh, wait. My mother. She’s diabetic, too, and has Alzheimer’s. Her list of meds is a mile long and she has no bladder control. Now things are getting complicated. Would it be easier to stockpile supplies and just stay put? Don’t have a lot of time to decide.

I will say, however, that in the case of Katrina, I’ve watched a lot of hurricane coverage in my life but this time it was different. They kept showing that mass moving towards the Gulf Coast states and talking about 170-190 mile per hour winds. T and I both agreed that this was going to be bad - so we watched. And it was.

Our city has a new serial murderer. He killed five people, including two police officers, and all he had to say when he stood before the judge is that he wasn’t happy about his appearance. He said, because he wasn’t given the opportunity to groom himself, his hair looked “crazy” and the jumpsuit he was forced to wear made him look like Elvis.

He has also pointed out that these murders are not his fault. He’s bipolar. Since he’s on a fixed income, he can’t afford his meds, so he shot five people. Get used to it.

His lawyer says he’s innocent because he’s insane. So what are you saying, sir? Everyone who is bipolar is insane? Well, then shouldn’t all these bipolar citizens be institutionalized? These people shouldn’t have jobs, own homes, drive cars, or have children. Keep the sharp objects and guns away from them.

Where are the bipolars out there who could come forward to say that this one doesn’t represent them and the rest of the loving, peaceful bipolars of the world?

The big news story is that Pat Robertson called for the assassination of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.

Yeah, so? As far as I know, that’s only a problem if you’re talking about our president. So what’s the big brouhaha? Well, the same people who think that Robertson is a joke as a political leader are suddenly referring to him as a viable political leader and they’re saying that he’s stating U.S. policy.

Yeah, so?

How can a Christian call for the murder of another human being, they ask. Hey, it was just a suggestion. Sure, loving your neighbor is a good thing — unless, of course, he’s a crazy Venezuelan commie who hangs out with Fidel Castro.

My only beef is that Robertson denied he said anything about assassination. I can’t defend that because I saw the appearance and heard exactly what he said. He did say the “A” word.

So? Liberals talk about assassinating George Bush all the time. They said it about Reagan, too, and a few of them actually shut up when it almost happened. We just have to make a decision here. When we talk about freedom of speech and freedom of expression, do we want it for everyone or a select few?

This cuts both ways. Both sides will have to get used to hearing what they’d rather not hear.

Years ago, I bought two iguanas: Siskel and Ebert. My sister saw another in a pet store that looked unhappy and convinced me to buy him, too. We named him Darwin. Then we picked up a couple anoles and a chuckwalla…and a gecko or two.

The problem is that my sister created mini-rain forests for the reptiles. She had extra aquariums from her days of collecting tropical fish, so she and I bought plants and soil and hot rocks and made terrariums that looked and felt like Brazil.

The anoles were fooled, too. Once they were in a place they thought was their natural habitat, they started acting like wild animals. Dewlaps dropping, heads bobbing, attacking!

We had to separate the little bastards. This required more aquariums, soil, plants, and hot rocks. We even provided tiny ponds for them inside the terrariums. It was getting expensive and difficult to maintain. They ate flowers, fresh fruit, and insects. Soon I was running to the pet shop daily to buy bugs. Soon the bugs were escaping and making their way through the house. One day the smaller lizards escaped and were all over the family room.

I think the reason we started this hobby was the reports that reptiles were going to become extinct soon. I think of that every time I go into my yard and see all the lizards zipping around. Nope, there’s certainly no shortage of lizards this year - there are big ones and little baby ones everywhere. There was one in the house yesterday.

We also have a lot of hummingbirds this year. Yup, hummers aplenty. They’re friendly and I have to go out and water them to make them happy. They love to play in the spray from the hose.

But I have noticed one thing. We have more wasps and hornets, but I’m seeing fewer bees. This concerns me because I love bees. I specifically plant things bees like. Now there are a few on the rosemary, and I saw one on the verbena yesterday, but where are the great numbers from years past? And no bumblebees. I miss the bumblebees.

I live in a state that has seen Africanized honey bees. I suspect if I wait long enough I’ll be seeing them in my yard. Wonderful.

Breaking News: French newspaper L’Equipe says Lance Armstrong used performance-enhancing drugs in 1999. Tour de France Director Jean-Marie Leblanc said the report that six urine samples Armstrong provided during his first tour win in 1999 tested positive for the red blood cell-booster EPO had convinced him the cyclist had cheated.

T heard the story and said what most of the world is probably thinking: sour grapes. Says T, “The French could easily win this thing if they just watched Armstrong’s technique. See, he takes a hold of the handlebars instead of keeping his arms over his head. They should try it.”

Immediately after T’s remark, the Internet jokes started coming.

“PARIS, France –

Lance Armstrong’s record setting seventh Tour de France victory, along with his entire Tour de France legacy, may be tarnished by what could turn out to be one of the greatest sports scandals of all time. Armstrong is being quizzed by French police after three banned substances were found in his South France hotel room while on vacation after winning the 2005 Tour de France.

The three substances found were toothpaste, deodorant, and soap, which have been banned by French authorities for over 75 years. Armstrong’s girlfriend is quoted as saying: ‘ We use them every day in America, so we naturally thought they’d be okay throughout Europe.’

Along with these three banned substances, French authorities also physically searched Armstrong himself and found several other interesting items that they have never seen before, including a backbone and testicles.”

Ouch!

This happened weeks ago, and I elected not to comment on it because 1) it didn’t seem to make much sense, and 2) I expected it to become the BIG story and get so much coverage that I wouldn’t even have to mention it.

It really is a non-story. James Carville and Bob Novak were on a CNN show together (Inside Politics, specifically) and suddenly Bob yells the word “bullsh*t” and storms off the set. This was not surprising. What’s surprising is that people who share a set with James Carville don’t do this more often.

I’ve seen Mary Matalin come close a few times, but she probably just held back and slapped him in the car on the way home.

Now as far as I can tell, they were discussing Katherine Harris’ plan to run against Bill Nelson for his Senate seat in Florida. Democrats, who still haven’t quite gotten over the 2000 election, are still spiteful and mean about Harris. Generally Liberals get testy if someone pokes fun at a woman who isn’t glamorous or carries a few extra pounds. Unless, of course, it’s them making the comments and they’re about a conservative. There was no sensitivity when they mocked Harris’ makeup or Linda Tripp’s appearance. Long after Rush Limbaugh dropped a lot of weight, the Left continued to call him “fat.”

And we’re mean-spirited?

In a nutshell, Carville said to host Ed Henry that Novak has “got to show these right-wingers that he’s got backbone, you know.” Then, to Novak, “The Wall Street Journal editorial page is watching. Show ‘em you’re tough.”

Novak replied, “Well, I think that’s bullshit, and I hate that.” Then he got up and left the set.

This was very similar to a situation on FNC a while back. I can’t even remember what was being discussed, but Susan Estrich, who used to be a fixture on FOX, attacked Bill Kristol. Usually Bill can shut someone down with a fact or a witty remark, but this time he was visibly pissed. He went off and accused her of lying and attacking his integrity. She tried to gloss over the situation with humor, but Bill wouldn’t let it go. All I could think was: “Hey, Bill - why weren’t you this feisty during the ‘92 campaign?”

But that’s neither here nor there. All I know is I see more of Bill on FNC now and I haven’t seen Susan in eons. But no one was suspended, publicly humiliated, or made to apologize — like Novak.

Novak said that Carville’s remarks were unacceptable and questioned his integrity. “I overreacted … I just got a little frustrated.”

Says CNN: “Bob Novak’s behavior on CNN today was inexcusable and unacceptable. Mr. Novak has apologized to CNN and CNN apologizes to its viewers for his language and his actions.”

So what about Carville? He can continue to provoke guests and not get reprimanded? Well, of course. Those on the Left can push for freedom of expression all they want, but suddenly they favor censorship when the other side expresses itself. I feel like I should quote Dick Cheney’s “advice” to Patrick Leahy here.

But I’m sure James hears it from Mary every day.

Another sad story of a tiger that has to die because it was put in an unfortunate position. Sad, too, is the family of this poor girl who has died. I’m sure they’re not feeling all that bad about the poor tiger, but it’s just sad for everyone - sad, too, for the owners of the animal sanctuary that housed the tiger.

Details are sketchy. First I heard the tiger attacked the girl without provocation. Then I heard she’d been bitten and clawed. Then I heard the tiger swiped at her with its paw and she was knocked out, and then never recovered.

The last version was that she was posing for a photo with the tiger and she was straddling it. The tiger took an interest in her foot - perhaps she was wearing flip-flops - and started licking it. The girl panicked and screamed. The tiger panicked and swiped.

Both are dead. The girl was seventeen, the tiger was seven.

I did something I’ve been thinking about doing for years. I tracked down all my watches and removed the batteries. They’ve been dead for so long, I felt it was the least I could do.

One of those things you plan to do, but never get around to it. Like taking the undeveloped film in for processing. Organizing all your spices. Repotting all the plants. Lining the drawers and cupboards. Cleaning the cables on the car battery. Donating old eyeglasses. Tossing old checks and financial papers. Getting rid of years of magazines. Tackling file cabinets. Fixing broken jewelry. Hanging more pictures. Pruning the book collection. Organizing the closets. Caulking.

Okay, maybe there are people who do get this done, but I’m not one of them. Maybe I’ll wipe the dust off the plant leaves next. Or maybe I’ll have a vodka and Coke.

Good call.