Smoke-free Ohio

Harry is doing a story on the "Smoke-free Ohio" legislation that just passed in the November election. His research requires him to visit all three bars in town to get owner, bartender, and customer reaction.

Harry enters the Gulch at dusk. It's happy hour and there are only two or three stools left at the bar. The air is blue with smoke. Virtually everyone at the bar has a cigarette going. The jukebox is blasting 70s rock. He sets his note pad on the bar and takes a stool next to a guy who could be Prince's little brother.

The bartender is a tall, well-built black woman with short hair. It only takes a minute or so to get her attention. Harry looks down the bar to see what others are drinking and orders a Bud Light. When she brings his bottle, he tells her why he is there. Her name is Debbie and she is willing to cooperate, but the place is busy and she runs off to get someone else a drink.

Harry feels a hand on his back. He is surprised when he turns to see that the man behind him is a stranger. The older man looks benign enough, so Harry relaxes.

"What's your name," the man asks.

Harry reacts like the New Yorker he is. "What's yours?"

He looks around to gauge the reaction in his immediate area. He senses nothing but goodwill.

"I'm Harry, Harry Kresge," he says, "and you?"

"John Pitstick. I don't know you, do I?" the man says. "Do you know me?"

"No I don't," Harry says. "But I know the Pitstick name - long-time farmers around here."

After the man confirms that he is indeed a part of that lineage, Harry tries to engage him in converstation about the upcoming smoking ban. But Pitstick only wants to talk about the Ohio State - Michigan game that was played a few weeks before. Harry finally gets it, when the man points to Harry's hat. It's red, with the letters "OH" in bold white relief. Pitstick finally tires of the conversation and returns to his seat.

The man on Harry's left asks him if he is a reporter. Harry says he is and asks the man his name, but he won't give it.

"Don't want anyone to know you were in a bar?" Harry asks.

The man readily admits to it. He also reveals that although he is a regular at the Gulch, he neither smokes nor drinks. Harry finally notices the Shirley Temple on the bar in front of him.

"Well then, what the hell are you doing here?" Harry asks.

"The women," the man says.

Debbie returns. She has a few minutes to talk. Although she herself does not smoke, she feels that secondhand smoke is not a problem for her.

"We have very good ventilation in here," she says, pointing to the large duct system directly above the bar. "The smoke never reaches me. And when I go home at night, my clothes and hair don't even smell of smoke."

She is convincing, but Harry is dubious. After some more intelligent insights, she spies some friends who have come in and are standing at the other end of the bar. She excuses herself.

Harry's bottle is only half empty. He considers leaving it, but that runs against a lifetime of beer drinking. He cautiously turns to the thin young black man on his right, who has been trying to get his attention all the while he was talking to Debbie.

"So you're a reporter, eh?" The young Prince seems friendly enough.

Harry has seen this guy around town before. His dreads, tight leather pants, and the long leather sheaths, tied with thongs, on each arm are memorable.

"Yeah, I'm doing a story about the new Smoke-free Ohio law."

The man hasn't heard about it, because he was in San Francisco during the election campaign.

"I don't really smoke, myself," he says. Then, looking at the cigarette in his hand, he adds, "Only when I'm in bars."

After a short rambling conversation, Harry finishes his beer and starts to excuse himself.

The man extends his hand. "My mother named me Eros," he says.

"I'm Harry. I have to go now," Kresge says and grabs his note pad.

It has gotten dark. The rain that started while he was in the bar is like a fine Irish lace on his face. Harry is glad for the fresh air. He feels as if he has shortened his life by the half-hour or so he spent in the Gulch.

As he comes to his car, he looks across the street at Peach's, thinks better of it, and goes home.

Some of my favorite photos

Niagara Falls at Night

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This is the story of Allen Street Al

Harry Kresge and his friend Lazaro Rodillo watched as Allen Street Al loped off through the tall grass on Lazaro's farm. The groundhog stopped for a second to look back at them, then turned and ran off toward the road.

"I hope he doesn't get hit," Lazaro said.

"Yeah, me too," said Harry. "I kinda like the little fella. That's why I couldn't shoot him."

Harry had been trying to trap the young groundhog for weeks, but kept catching the same racoon. By the time he caught Al, the racoon was so tame that he would have to wake him up in order to get him out of the catch-and-release trap. First he had tried apples as bait, but raccoons love apples. The he tried cantaloupe, something he picked up from the internet. By the time he tried that, the trap wasn't working too good and Al ate the melon and left.

The bait that finally sealed Al's fate was chicken feed. He had become accustomed to going into the chicken coop and helping himself. The chickens didn't seem to mind. They would even stay in their boxes and lay, while he was dining. Harry would watch him from the house. Al was comfortable but cautious. He would take a few mouthfuls, then look out the door to see if anyone was coming. Whenever Harry would step out onto the back deck, Al would head for the bushes.

The problem was that Al had tunneled down next to the foundation of Harry's house. Harry tried several times to fill in the holes, but the next day they would either be reopened or reappear a few feet away. They were right near the laundry room window. Many was the time that Al and Harry stared at each other through the double pane glass. And Harry watched the little guy grow, bigger and fatter all the time, on his chicken feed.

Harry had asked Lazaro for permission to drop him off at his place, should he ever catch him. Lazaro was delighted to play a role in the illegal relocation of the wild beast, but when he heard that Harry had caught a racoon, he said, "Oh, no! Not around here. Not a racoon. Before you know it, he will be in my garbage."

Harry feared that this meant that he had withdrawn his offer to let him release the groundhog on his property. But when he called to announce the capture Lazaro was gleeful at the prospect being part of his release. "Bring him over!" he shouted through the phone.

Harry was nervous driving through town with his illegal catch in the back of the old station wagon. With my luck, I'll get stopped for failing to signal or something, he thought. He drove carefully, hoping that no one would look into the back of the Green Hornet, while he was stopped at a light or backed up in traffic.

His heart sank as he arrived at Lazaro's driveway. It seemed that his friend had invited half the town to watch the show. Lazaro was holding court. "Here he is now," he announced, "the illegal trapper of animals!" Al was put on display, and soon the audience had had enough and drove off. Then Lazaro's troublesome neighbor pulled in, but soon she was gone and they drove the wagon out to the back of the farm and got ready to open the trap.

"Which way do they generally go when released?" Lazaro asked. "Toward us or away?"

"Don't worry. They don't want any part of us," Harry assured him.

And sure enough, once the door was opened, Al stuck his nose out as if to taste freedom, then stepped out and trotted off, away from his tormentors.

When Mona got home that night she seemed subdued, because she could no longer tease Harry about being outwitted by a groundhog.

"The guy at Tractor Supply told me you've got to take them at least five miles," Harry said.

"But it's not five miles to Lazaro's," she said. "Is it?"

"Nah, about a mile and a half or two at the most. But I read on the Internet that a mile is enough."

"What are you going to do if he comes back?" she asked.

"If he comes back, he can stay," Harry said. And he meant it. He missed the little fella already.

"Do you think we're going to have a warm night, tonight?" he asked.

Mona groaned.

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Harry on air?

The highlight of Harry's week is the Wednesday afternoon meeting at the newspaper, where the stories for the next week are discussed and assigned. The quirkiest are always reserved for him.

Next week Harry will be eligible to start collecting social security. Has he gone down to the Social Security Office to sign up? No! He is too busy chasing after a French Canadian film crew doing a documentary on clowns on lawnmowers, or laying on his back photographing the GM of the local radio station with as much of a 500 foot antenna he can fit into the frame.

The station manager is thinking of having the newspaper reporters do 2 – 3 minutes on their stories for the week. Is this right up Harry’s alley, or what! Harry has an idea too: How about letting the reporters slip into first person/present tense on the radio?

Harry on air: So there I am following the crew of six, all wired together as one. Remember the tortoise shell formation form Julius Caesar in high school Latin? The clown is already mowing in the backyard. We start across the front lawn, filming all the way. Suddenly the front door flies open and a woman steps out. “May I help you?” she says.

Suffice it to say that Harry is having the time of his life. If only his body were a bit more flexible…

Photos from our Asia trip

On May 11, 2006, Harry and Mona embarked on a three week trip to the Far East. Harry has posted hundreds of photos on two Fotki sites. To see them, just click on the links below:

Singapore, Malaysia, Hong Kong, a few from Beijing

Beijing

I recommend that you use the "slideshow" option for viewing the photographs.

Cosmic Uncertainty

There are certain things we can always rely on. The sky is up, the earth is down. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. The moon, in its many phases, passes across the night sky. Even when it’s cloudy, we know it's there. There are nine planets circling the sun, always in a certain order.

Then the astronomers tell us that Pluto and Uranus have swapped orbits. A year or so later, they tell us that Pluto isn’t even a planet. I watch a TV show on seven ways all life on Earth can come to an end. If the sun even so much as flickers like a candle in a drafty room, all of human history will be no more than the lifecycle of a fruit fly.

I once wanted to be a novelist like Hemingway, a writer for the ages. But how will any of that matter, if eight feet of ash settles over us all, or we are flushed down a swirling black hole?

So we do what we can, find a little love, make someone laugh, try not to think about it too much. I have a blog with a potential of 50 million readers that no one visits. I write for a small town weekly with a circulation of 2000. That’s enough for me. Someday in some cosmic wormhole, Hemingway’s vapors will be mixed with mine.

The Big MF (May 4, 1928 - August 23, 2006)

The Trumpet Player (for Maynard Ferguson)


Thirty years later
I sat in a restaurant
across from the Jazz Port
eating a soft-shell crab
and thinking about Maynard.

Soon, I would take
a seat in the back row
of the tiny theater
as he warmed up backstage
sliding through scales
above double "C"
stealing my breath
and moistening my eyes.

I remembered a clean cut young man
"Swinging [His] Way Through College"
and the Newport Jazz Festival.
So when he came on stage
with "High Voltage"
it was a shock to see
this fat cat with hamburger
lips and long gray hair.

Then he proceeded
to blow our socks off
and I was sixteen again
lying about my age
to get into Birdland
corner of 52nd Street
and a simpler world.

11/05/95

Postcards from the Knitting Factory

The widow who lives
in the house behind mine
replaced her deceased
husband with a burglar
alarm and went to Florida.
When the wind blows
too hard or there's thunder,
a loud motorcycle or a fire
engine passes in the street,
that sucker goes off
like an unremitting
air-raid siren,
and it doesn't stop
for hours unless
someone turns it off;
and the most likely
someone to do that
is in Florida. But
she has a daughter
who checks the house
every now and then.
I don't know her name
or where she lives
so I send postcards
to the house;
freebies I get
at the Knitting Factory,
promoting rock groups,
art galleries, museums,
festivals, performance artists,
walkathons, record albums,
liquor companies, concerts.
The one thing they have
in common is that they are
uncommonly weird. Not
the type of thing
widows who run off
to Florida normally
receive in the mail.
Attention-getters
to attract the attention
of the married daughter
who comes to check the mail
and the burglar alarm
every now and then.
Postcards, where the message
is on the outside
for her to read.
Sent anonymously
upon each occurrence
to date
in the following order:

Andy Warhol - double torsos:
"Please have your alarm checked
it seems to go off too often."
- your neighbor

The Kronos Quartet at BAM:
"Your alarm went off
three times last night
due to the wind. Please
have it adjusted."
- a tired neighbor

Tanqueray Imported English Gin:
"It's 3 a.m. and your goddam
alarm has been going for an hour.
I think a branch bumped your house.
Please do something."
- an exhausted nearby resident

Mammoth Records:
"Your alarm continues
to be a problem. By now
every burglar in the county
knows you're not home
and your neighbors could
give a shit less! Ever hear
of the boy who cried 'wolf'?"
- pissed off in Stewart Manor

SonicNet - Rock & Roll BBS:
"Today a bird shit on your roof
and your fucking alarm went off.
I'm going over there to tear
the fucker off the side of the house
and while I'm there, I may go inside
and take a look around."
- the pink fucking panther

1996

GWB's Resume

GEORGE W. BUSH 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue Washington , DC 20520


EDUCATION AND EXPERIENCE

LAW ENFORCEMENT

I was arrested in Kennebunkport , Maine , in 1976 for driving under the influence of alcohol. I pled guilty, paid a fine, and had my driver ' s license suspended for 30 days. My Texas driving record has been "lost" and is not available.

MILITARY

I joined the Texas Air National Guard and went AWOL. I refused to take a drug test or answer any questions about my drug use. By joining the Texas Air National Guard, I was able to avoid combat duty in Vietnam.

COLLEGE

I graduated from Yale University with a low C average. I was a cheerleader.

PAST WORK EXPERIENCE

I ran for U.S. Congress and lost. I began my career in the oil business in Midland , Texas , in 1975. I bought an oil company, but couldn ' t find any oil in Texas . The company went bankrupt shortly after I sold all my stock.

I bought the Texas Rangers baseball team in a sweetheart deal that took land using taxpayer money. With the help of my father and our friends in the oil industry, including Enron CEO Ken Lay, I was elected governor of Texas .

ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS GOVERNOR OF TEXAS

I changed Texas pollution laws to favor power and oil companies, making Texas the most polluted state in the Union .

During my tenure, Houston replaced Los Angeles as the most smog-ridden city in America

I cut taxes and bankrupted the Texas treasury to the tune of billions in borrowed money.

I set the record for the most executions by any governor in American history.

With the help of my brother, the governor of Florida , and my father ' s appointments to the Supreme Court, I became President after losing by over 500,000 votes.

ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS PRESIDENT

I am the first President in U.S. history to enter office with a criminal record.

I invaded and occupied two countries at a continuing cost of over one billion dollars per week.

I spent the U.S. surplus and effectively bankrupted the U.S. Treasury.

I shattered the record for the largest annual deficit in U.S. history.

I set an economic record for most private bankruptcies filed in any 12-month period.

I set the all-time record for most foreclosures in a 12-month period.

I set the all-time record for the biggest drop in the history of the U.S. stock market.

In my first year in office, over 2 million Americans lost their jobs and that trend continues every month.

I ' m proud that the members of my cabinet are the richest of any administration in U.S. history. My "poorest millionaire," Condoleeza Rice, had a Chevron oil tanker named after her.

I set the record for most campaign fund-raising trips by a U.S. President. I am the all-time U.S. and world record-holder for receiving the most corporate campaign donations.

My largest lifetime campaign contributor, and one of my best friends, Kenneth Lay, presided over the largest corporate bankruptcy fraud in U.S. History, Enron.

My political party used Enron private jets and corporate attorneys to assure my success with the U.S. Supreme Court during my election decision.

I have protected my friends at Enron and Halliburton against investigation or prosecution.

More time and money was spent investigating the Monica Lewinsky affair than has been spent investigating one of the biggest corporate rip- offs in history.

I presided over the biggest energy crisis in U.S. history and refused to intervene when corruption involving the oil industry was revealed.

I presided over the highest gasoline prices in U.S. history.

I changed the U.S. policy to allow convicted criminals to be awarded government contracts.

I appointed more convicted criminals to administration than any President in U.S. history.

I created the Ministry of Homeland Security, the largest bureaucracy in the history of the United States government.

I ' ve broken more international treaties than any President in U.S. history.

I am the first President in U.S. history to have the United Nations remove the U.S. from the Human Rights Commission.

I withdrew the U.S. from the World Court of Law. I refused to allow inspectors access to U.S . "prisoners of war" detainees and thereby have refused to abide by the Geneva Convention.

I am the first President in history to refuse United Nations election inspectors (during the 2002 U.S. election).

I set the record for fewest numbers of press conferences of any President since the advent of television.

I set the all-time record for most days on vacation in any one-year period. After taking off the entire month of August, I presided over the worst security failure in U.S. history.

I garnered the most sympathy for the U.S. after the World Trade Center attacks and less than a year later made the U.S. the most hated country in the world, the largest failure of diplomacy in world history.

I have set the all-time record for most people worldwide to simultaneously protest me in public venues (15 million people), shattering the record for protests against any person in the history of mankind.

I am the first President in U.S. history to order an unprovoked, pre-emptive attack and the military occupation of a sovereign nation. I did so against the will of the United Nations, the majority of U.S. citizens, and the world community.

I have cut health care benefits for war veterans and support a cut in duty benefits for active duty troops and their families-in-wartime.

In my State of the Union Address, I lied about our reasons for attacking Iraq and then blamed the lies on our British friends.

I am the first President in history to have a majority of Europeans (71%) view my presidency as the biggest threat to world peace and security.

I am supporting development of a nuclear "Tactical Bunker Buster," a WMD. I have so far failed to fulfill my pledge to bring Osama Bin Laden [sic] to justice.

RECORDS AND REFERENCES

All records of my tenure as governor of Texas are now in my father ' s library, sealed and unavailable for public view.

All records of SEC investigations into my insider trading and my bankrupt companies are sealed in secrecy and unavailable for public view.

All records or minutes from meetings that I, or my Vice-President, attended regarding public energy policy are sealed in secrecy and unavailable for public review. I am a member of the Republican Party.


PLEASE CONSIDER MY EXPERIENCE WHEN VOTING IN THE 2006 MIDTERM ELECTIONS.

PLEASE SEND THIS TO EVERY VOTER YOU KNOW.

(Received in a chain email. I rarely pass this kind of spam along, but this time I could not resist. Photo borrowed from www.allposters.com, without permission. Ignore my usual copyright for this post.)