Kathe and I have started a new blog, devoted to the coffee shacks of the Pacific Northwest, or anyway of the mid-Willamette Valley.
Every time we stop at a new coffee shack, with the owner's permission we photograph the building. We also collect any punchcards or other memorabilia. And we have a mocha, and review it for quality.
One day, we might just do the coffee table book we've been talking about for years, but in the meantime we've got the blog, and some digital pictures to put on it.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Be kind in your reviews."\\
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Now It Can Be Told
At this late date, I suppose there's no harm in revealing that in the Spring of 2001, I was flown to Washington DC to consult with President George W. Bush on Middle Eastern policy.
I don't know why they asked me -- I'm not in any sense an expert on the subject -- but then the Bush Administration hasn't been especially noted for its good sense.
Still, they asked, so I did my best.
So there I was, sitting across the Oval Office desk from George W. Bush, and he told me what he had in mind.
"We're going to transform the entire Middle East with a bold initiative, starting in one country and then moving on, domino after domino. But first we have to establish a beachhead."
I nodded, beginning to get excited.
"That's a bold move, all right. Well, the obvious choice is Israel, which is practically a U.S. client state. Persuading them to grant meaningful sovereignty to the Palestinians, and providing the Palestinians with the support they will need to build up a viable country, will be quite a challenge, but --"
"We weren't thinking of Israel, actually."
"Oh. Well, the obvious second choice is Egypt, where the government is closer to a functioning republic than any of the other Arab countries...."
I stopped as I saw him shaking his head.
"Oh. Well then you must be thinking of Saudi Arabia, where the U.S. has almost as much influence. They're a long way from democracy, but I suppose it could be possible.... But that's not what you had in mind, either, is it?"
So he told me: it was going to be Iraq.
I didn't bother to tell him that was about my seventeenth choice.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "That was unkind, John."\\
I don't know why they asked me -- I'm not in any sense an expert on the subject -- but then the Bush Administration hasn't been especially noted for its good sense.
Still, they asked, so I did my best.
So there I was, sitting across the Oval Office desk from George W. Bush, and he told me what he had in mind.
"We're going to transform the entire Middle East with a bold initiative, starting in one country and then moving on, domino after domino. But first we have to establish a beachhead."
I nodded, beginning to get excited.
"That's a bold move, all right. Well, the obvious choice is Israel, which is practically a U.S. client state. Persuading them to grant meaningful sovereignty to the Palestinians, and providing the Palestinians with the support they will need to build up a viable country, will be quite a challenge, but --"
"We weren't thinking of Israel, actually."
"Oh. Well, the obvious second choice is Egypt, where the government is closer to a functioning republic than any of the other Arab countries...."
I stopped as I saw him shaking his head.
"Oh. Well then you must be thinking of Saudi Arabia, where the U.S. has almost as much influence. They're a long way from democracy, but I suppose it could be possible.... But that's not what you had in mind, either, is it?"
So he told me: it was going to be Iraq.
I didn't bother to tell him that was about my seventeenth choice.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "That was unkind, John."\\
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Out From The Library, as of 21 March 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Now We're Getting Somewhere
Awhile back I suggested that once we have either an African American or a woman as President, the real 21st Century can begin, and this Godawful mess we've had since 2001 will shrivel up and blow away.
Now comes this headline: SPACEWALKERS ASSEMBLING GIANT ROBOT.
Hey, all right! Now, about those rocket packs....
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "John, I thought that initial remark was just a joke."\\
Now comes this headline: SPACEWALKERS ASSEMBLING GIANT ROBOT.
Hey, all right! Now, about those rocket packs....
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "John, I thought that initial remark was just a joke."\\
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Hypochondria
The other day, I noticed that the place where the neurosurgeon opened my skull is decidedly flat under the scar.
Is it hypochondria that makes me think that today it's actually indented, or did I just not notice it before?
Is it hypochondria to think that the recent extreme stress in my life is causing me to develop hypochondria?
Is it hypochondria that makes me think that today it's actually indented, or did I just not notice it before?
Is it hypochondria to think that the recent extreme stress in my life is causing me to develop hypochondria?
Monday, March 10, 2008
The Courage of George W. Bush
George W. Bush displayed more courage than I would have expected of him when he vetoed the torture ban. I would have expected him to just quietly ignore the whole matter and then gone right on torturing. But no, he actually went on record as endorsing torture. That did indeed require a certain measure of courage.
The kind of courage, that is, that it takes to order someone he's never met to torture people he'll never see. But as far as that kind of courage goes, he has more than I would have expected.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Give credit where credit is due."\\
The kind of courage, that is, that it takes to order someone he's never met to torture people he'll never see. But as far as that kind of courage goes, he has more than I would have expected.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Give credit where credit is due."\\
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
I'm Glad I Have His Genes
My father is 77 and has had a series of major health problems in recent years, but right now I'm visiting my parents' home at Bellfountain near Monroe, and appreciate what I've seen of his improving condition.
I'm making use of my massage experience and half-formed nursing skills to assist in his rehabilitation. I've been supervising his stretching exercises and inspecting his shoes and walkers, but by far the most important thing I've been doing for him is simply walking over the grounds with him.
My parents' house sits halfway up one side of a long narrow valley, and they own the land from the roadway down to the bottom and up the opposite side to the ridgecrest, one of several similar properties in the valley. When they bought it in 1989, the opposite hillside was forested and the bottom was pasture. They undid the drainage that had been done years before and restored a pond and wetland that was much as it had been before the land was settled. Later on, they re-drained part of the wetland in order to plant more trees for the sake of income in later years, but there is still a substantial pond, and migrating birds still stop there.
When Dad was 73 and recovering from a hip replacement, he said, "I guess I'm just about able to hobble around the house now. Some people would say that's enough at 73."
"Time enough for that when you're eighty-three," I retorted. Possibly I felt the remark hit too close to home, since Kathe has also had both hips replaced, but Dad was clearly pleased with my response.
In recent years, Dad has been too limited in his mobility, or too frail, or both, to walk over his property the way he'd like to, but just recently he's been making some impressive progress.
We walk down to the barn and poke around in the workshop on the ground floor, or go up the outside stairs to go over the books in the library there. On Monday, we went on past the barn to see how the occasional worker had been handling the slash from recent tree-pruning (answer: burning some of it in a couple of small piles, leaving more for small wildlife). The bridge over the creek is currently made up of rocky stuff that I'd be hesitant to go over in a truck, but once it's been filled in with some small broken rock I'm hoping to get Dad up to the ridge on a bright Spring day so he can look down on all his land at once.
I'm making use of my massage experience and half-formed nursing skills to assist in his rehabilitation. I've been supervising his stretching exercises and inspecting his shoes and walkers, but by far the most important thing I've been doing for him is simply walking over the grounds with him.
My parents' house sits halfway up one side of a long narrow valley, and they own the land from the roadway down to the bottom and up the opposite side to the ridgecrest, one of several similar properties in the valley. When they bought it in 1989, the opposite hillside was forested and the bottom was pasture. They undid the drainage that had been done years before and restored a pond and wetland that was much as it had been before the land was settled. Later on, they re-drained part of the wetland in order to plant more trees for the sake of income in later years, but there is still a substantial pond, and migrating birds still stop there.
When Dad was 73 and recovering from a hip replacement, he said, "I guess I'm just about able to hobble around the house now. Some people would say that's enough at 73."
"Time enough for that when you're eighty-three," I retorted. Possibly I felt the remark hit too close to home, since Kathe has also had both hips replaced, but Dad was clearly pleased with my response.
In recent years, Dad has been too limited in his mobility, or too frail, or both, to walk over his property the way he'd like to, but just recently he's been making some impressive progress.
We walk down to the barn and poke around in the workshop on the ground floor, or go up the outside stairs to go over the books in the library there. On Monday, we went on past the barn to see how the occasional worker had been handling the slash from recent tree-pruning (answer: burning some of it in a couple of small piles, leaving more for small wildlife). The bridge over the creek is currently made up of rocky stuff that I'd be hesitant to go over in a truck, but once it's been filled in with some small broken rock I'm hoping to get Dad up to the ridge on a bright Spring day so he can look down on all his land at once.
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