Here's a little follow up to yesterday's post about about being a nation of wimps. I think that everyone in America should be forced to take a course in statistics. (Not that I've ever had such a course, but I do understand the basics.) If we all took the course, I suspect that there would be a lot less lottery tickets purchased, and a whole lot less time spent worrying about our kids.
When I was a kid, it was common practice for my mother to drop me off downtown for a movie, and afterwards, I would walk home or take the bus if it was raining. I'm talking about a two mile walk across town, when I was as young as seven or eight years old. You might argue that Concord was a very small town way back then, but I would counter, that my wife, who is from Philadelphia, tells me that, at the same age, she would take a bus or train alone to downtown Philadelphia, from her home up in the North East part of town, to go to movies or to visit friends. By the time I was twelve, I would come home from school, get my rifle, and walk the four blocks to the edge of town to go squirrel hunting. I was never stopped by the police, or interviewed by Channel Nine News. I have always carried a pocket knife from the start of the first grade right up to the present. I did get in trouble over it once in the sixth grade, not because I had it in class, but because I was throwing it and making it stick into the floor. Mr Freeze confiscated my knife and gave me one of two spankings I got that day, but returned my knife to me at the end of the school year.
Here's a real shocker. The Concord city swimming pool was managed in the summers by my seventh grade principal,Mr. McGinnis, who was a real hard ass.
He managed to spank me at least three times that year, and slapped the snot out of me at least once. Anyway, there was this older guy who hung out at the pool when I was a pre-teen. He was a known pervert. If he got the chance, he would feel up the young boys. Everybody knew it, the life guards, Mr. McGinnis, all of us kids. It wasn't a big deal, we just avoided him. Now, I'm not condoning sexual predators, and certainly some percentage of pedophiles actually do harm to their victims. But here's the thing, statistically, the odds of a child being harmed by a pedophile, kidnapped, drowned, run over by a car, or shooting himself with a gun were pretty slim back then, and are still pretty slim today. Especially If the parents have the good sense to teach their kids how to avoid the pitfalls of every day life.
I've read that dogs were domesticated by continued selective breeding for dogs that demonstrated puppy hood through out their adult lives. This breeding made them playful and docile, but did not prepare them for life in the wild. It seems that we are doing the same things to our children.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
A Nation of Wimps
I'm embarrassed by the collective hand wringing our nation exhibits, every time some real or would be terrorist manages to achieve his fifteen minutes of fame. I've come to believe that the typical American citizen's lack of backbone may become our country's fatal flaw.
The attack on the World Trade Centers, and the Pentagon, were despicable attacks perpetrated by the people that I consider responsible for most of the troubles in the world. That is, every intolerant, radical, dogmatic, fundamentalist, who is willing to listen to the propaganda of any priest, preacher, imam, rabbi, or cult leader, that offers a key to heaven, virgins for the taking, exclusive salvation, the Divine right to homeland, or cool aid. I know people who lost family members in the September the eleventh attack, and they truly have my sympathy. I, as much as anyone, would like to see each and every person, associated with the attacks, removed from the face of the earth. Most of us will never be directly injured by, or involved in a terrorist attack. It's time to move on. We need to be pissed off by the attacks, not pissing on ourselves in fear because of them. Our government cannot protect us from every possible terrorist scenario, any more than it can protect us from floods, flu, or traffic accidents. Things will get through the cracks, as evidenced by the latest near airline disaster. I believe that our current administration, and the previous one, tries to protect us from terrorists, but is failing to protect us from ourselves.
In this country, we seem to think that we are in titled to protection from every calamity that can befall us, and we expect these protections with out regard to their costs. We've spent hundreds of billions of dollars, and lost thousands of lives, chasing what is probably way less than a thousand Al Qaeda members. I've read that it has cost us over a million dollars for every Al Qaeda member, insurgent in Iraq, and Taliban member that we have killed. Hundreds of thousands of innocent people have been killed or displaced because of these actions. And yet, in this country we resist the simple cost effective things that could help protect us. We feel violated by the thought of a full body scan in airports, and then we allow little old blue haired ladies to be extensively searched so that we are not accused of profiling. We allow millions of illegal immigrants to cross our borders so that we can cheaply have our grass cut and our houses built.
We believe that our children are in imminent danger of child molestation, we protect them from lead paint, vaccines, bullying, tumbling into an open toilet, or a bucket. We worry that we may lower their self esteem if we spank them, or if they are not constantly praised, regardless of their lack of success. We protect them beyond reason, then we allow them to become obese and give them a guided missile to drive, unsupervised, when they turn sixteen. We seem to even expect protection from our ultimate demise, despite all evidence that it is ultimately unavoidable. We have the most expensive health care system in the world, but we are way down the list in terms of measurable good health. We seem to be willing to spend every penny for a long life, but skimp on things that make a good life. We need to remember that most of the things we fear won't happen to us. Like Bobby McFerrin's song says, "don't worry, be happy".
The attack on the World Trade Centers, and the Pentagon, were despicable attacks perpetrated by the people that I consider responsible for most of the troubles in the world. That is, every intolerant, radical, dogmatic, fundamentalist, who is willing to listen to the propaganda of any priest, preacher, imam, rabbi, or cult leader, that offers a key to heaven, virgins for the taking, exclusive salvation, the Divine right to homeland, or cool aid. I know people who lost family members in the September the eleventh attack, and they truly have my sympathy. I, as much as anyone, would like to see each and every person, associated with the attacks, removed from the face of the earth. Most of us will never be directly injured by, or involved in a terrorist attack. It's time to move on. We need to be pissed off by the attacks, not pissing on ourselves in fear because of them. Our government cannot protect us from every possible terrorist scenario, any more than it can protect us from floods, flu, or traffic accidents. Things will get through the cracks, as evidenced by the latest near airline disaster. I believe that our current administration, and the previous one, tries to protect us from terrorists, but is failing to protect us from ourselves.
In this country, we seem to think that we are in titled to protection from every calamity that can befall us, and we expect these protections with out regard to their costs. We've spent hundreds of billions of dollars, and lost thousands of lives, chasing what is probably way less than a thousand Al Qaeda members. I've read that it has cost us over a million dollars for every Al Qaeda member, insurgent in Iraq, and Taliban member that we have killed. Hundreds of thousands of innocent people have been killed or displaced because of these actions. And yet, in this country we resist the simple cost effective things that could help protect us. We feel violated by the thought of a full body scan in airports, and then we allow little old blue haired ladies to be extensively searched so that we are not accused of profiling. We allow millions of illegal immigrants to cross our borders so that we can cheaply have our grass cut and our houses built.
We believe that our children are in imminent danger of child molestation, we protect them from lead paint, vaccines, bullying, tumbling into an open toilet, or a bucket. We worry that we may lower their self esteem if we spank them, or if they are not constantly praised, regardless of their lack of success. We protect them beyond reason, then we allow them to become obese and give them a guided missile to drive, unsupervised, when they turn sixteen. We seem to even expect protection from our ultimate demise, despite all evidence that it is ultimately unavoidable. We have the most expensive health care system in the world, but we are way down the list in terms of measurable good health. We seem to be willing to spend every penny for a long life, but skimp on things that make a good life. We need to remember that most of the things we fear won't happen to us. Like Bobby McFerrin's song says, "don't worry, be happy".
Monday, December 28, 2009
Christmas Toys
I'm just a sixty one year old kid. No socks, ties, shirts, or underwear for me, I want toys. I pretty much got my Christmas wish this year. I didn't get the fishing Kayak, the net book, or the new bicycle, but I did get a Kindle reader, a Forza 3 Xbox video game, and a Rubik's cube. What a great three days. I started out with the Rubik's cube before my wife, son, mother, and daughter in law were even finished opening all of their presents. Who knows what they got.
You know the definition of insanity; Repeating the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different result. That's me and the Rubik's Cube. I figured out how to get the top layer right and most of the second layer. That is not the path to Nirvana. I must have repeated the same moves at least fifty times with no improvement in my position. The cube is sitting on my desk; it's shiny blue tiles all perfectly aligned on the top row, with yellow, orange, red, and green tiles mocking me from the near side.
Next I downloaded Margret Atwood's "The Year of the Flood" on the Kindle. At ten bucks a pop, I read much too fast, so after I finished " The Year of the Flood", I downloaded David Foster Wallace's "Infinite Jest" a book that is much more suited to the unique capabilities of the Kindle. I had tried to read "Infinite Jest" a few years ago, and got about a third of the way through it before developing a case of Carpel Tunnel Syndrome from flipping back and forth between the story and the fictionalized notes at the end of the book. It is also necessary to consult an unabridged dictionary at least three or four times per page. A few generations from now, the book will be as unapproachable as James Joyce's "Ulysses" is to people who didn't live in Dublin at the time it was written. The Kindle makes "Infinite Jest" much easier to read. It's weight is about a fifth of that of the paperback version of "Infinite Jest". The Kindle has a built in dictionary which reduces by about a third, the number of required look ups. And, you only have to place your cursor on the applicable number and click, and you are immediately transferred to the corresponding footnote. Reading "Infinite Jest" also reduces the cost of reading from about two dollars per hour, down to about twenty five cents per hour. Did I mention that "Infinite Jest" is really a great book. I'll review it for you in about a month.
In between reading and Rubik's Cube, I played Forza 3. I'm too old to be an accomplished gamer. I like Halo, and Gears of War, and Rainbow six, but I really suck at them. I just don't have the fine motor skills, or the quick wits to play these games well. Plus, I just can't put the time into them. I've seen my son play World of Warcraft for days (not hours) on end, but that's not for me. My favorite games are the Forza games. These are racing games that are, to me, so realistic and intense, that I can only play for a few hours at a time. You start out with a stable of only a few fairly slow cars, and as you win races, you accumulate credits to upgrade your cars, win additional cars, and new tracks are opened to you. You play with a wheel which has feedback built into it, and brakes, and an accelerator. I could go on and on about this game.
That's how I spent my Christmas holidays, I hope everyone had as much fun as me.
You know the definition of insanity; Repeating the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different result. That's me and the Rubik's Cube. I figured out how to get the top layer right and most of the second layer. That is not the path to Nirvana. I must have repeated the same moves at least fifty times with no improvement in my position. The cube is sitting on my desk; it's shiny blue tiles all perfectly aligned on the top row, with yellow, orange, red, and green tiles mocking me from the near side.
Next I downloaded Margret Atwood's "The Year of the Flood" on the Kindle. At ten bucks a pop, I read much too fast, so after I finished " The Year of the Flood", I downloaded David Foster Wallace's "Infinite Jest" a book that is much more suited to the unique capabilities of the Kindle. I had tried to read "Infinite Jest" a few years ago, and got about a third of the way through it before developing a case of Carpel Tunnel Syndrome from flipping back and forth between the story and the fictionalized notes at the end of the book. It is also necessary to consult an unabridged dictionary at least three or four times per page. A few generations from now, the book will be as unapproachable as James Joyce's "Ulysses" is to people who didn't live in Dublin at the time it was written. The Kindle makes "Infinite Jest" much easier to read. It's weight is about a fifth of that of the paperback version of "Infinite Jest". The Kindle has a built in dictionary which reduces by about a third, the number of required look ups. And, you only have to place your cursor on the applicable number and click, and you are immediately transferred to the corresponding footnote. Reading "Infinite Jest" also reduces the cost of reading from about two dollars per hour, down to about twenty five cents per hour. Did I mention that "Infinite Jest" is really a great book. I'll review it for you in about a month.
In between reading and Rubik's Cube, I played Forza 3. I'm too old to be an accomplished gamer. I like Halo, and Gears of War, and Rainbow six, but I really suck at them. I just don't have the fine motor skills, or the quick wits to play these games well. Plus, I just can't put the time into them. I've seen my son play World of Warcraft for days (not hours) on end, but that's not for me. My favorite games are the Forza games. These are racing games that are, to me, so realistic and intense, that I can only play for a few hours at a time. You start out with a stable of only a few fairly slow cars, and as you win races, you accumulate credits to upgrade your cars, win additional cars, and new tracks are opened to you. You play with a wheel which has feedback built into it, and brakes, and an accelerator. I could go on and on about this game.
That's how I spent my Christmas holidays, I hope everyone had as much fun as me.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
A Christmas Message
OK, so maybe my last post was a bit harsh; I tend to be intolerant of intolerance. (Sounds like "Keep you dirty government hands of my medicare" doesn't it.) Any way, I'm going to try to atone with a heartfelt Christmas message.
Imagine waking in the middle of the night to find your neighbor's house on fire. You might rush to their home to attempt a rescue, or more likely, if you found them standing in their front yard, less than fully clothed, you might offer clothing or a blanket. You might offer a place to stay, or food, or even a hug, or words of encouragement. And, for most of us, it wouldn't matter if, at some point in the past, you had quarreled with them, or perhaps, didn't even know them very well. You would do everything you could to help.
Most of us never are involved in a personal rescue, but our neighbors need our help. This recession has created millions of people who are homeless, hungry, or sick.
It is easy to rationalize their circumstances. They're lazy, drunk, druggies, illegal, criminals, or just pains in the ass. It's true: some people fit some or all of these categories. Most people who find themselves in trouble are just victims of circumstance. They've lost their job, divorced, suffered some expensive illness, made bad decisions, or, most likely, have some mental problem which prevents them from functioning in a rational manner. The one thing most of them have in common is that they have no support network to see them through. I don't think it matters how they arrived at their current place in life, I try, when I can, to help them. When someone approaches me and asks for five dollars to buy gas to get home, I don't ask what kind of car they drive, or where they are going. If they spend the money on a bottle of Night Train wine, actually get that gas, or food, or diapers, or whatever they ask for, well, so be it, at least I tried to help.
So, with that said, here are three things I hope you will remember this Christmas season, and into the New Year. I guess all three are from the Bible, although I can't quote chapter and verse.
1. Judge not lest you be judged.
2. There but for the grace of God go I.
3. Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you.
Merry Christmas
Imagine waking in the middle of the night to find your neighbor's house on fire. You might rush to their home to attempt a rescue, or more likely, if you found them standing in their front yard, less than fully clothed, you might offer clothing or a blanket. You might offer a place to stay, or food, or even a hug, or words of encouragement. And, for most of us, it wouldn't matter if, at some point in the past, you had quarreled with them, or perhaps, didn't even know them very well. You would do everything you could to help.
Most of us never are involved in a personal rescue, but our neighbors need our help. This recession has created millions of people who are homeless, hungry, or sick.
It is easy to rationalize their circumstances. They're lazy, drunk, druggies, illegal, criminals, or just pains in the ass. It's true: some people fit some or all of these categories. Most people who find themselves in trouble are just victims of circumstance. They've lost their job, divorced, suffered some expensive illness, made bad decisions, or, most likely, have some mental problem which prevents them from functioning in a rational manner. The one thing most of them have in common is that they have no support network to see them through. I don't think it matters how they arrived at their current place in life, I try, when I can, to help them. When someone approaches me and asks for five dollars to buy gas to get home, I don't ask what kind of car they drive, or where they are going. If they spend the money on a bottle of Night Train wine, actually get that gas, or food, or diapers, or whatever they ask for, well, so be it, at least I tried to help.
So, with that said, here are three things I hope you will remember this Christmas season, and into the New Year. I guess all three are from the Bible, although I can't quote chapter and verse.
1. Judge not lest you be judged.
2. There but for the grace of God go I.
3. Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you.
Merry Christmas
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Scariest Movie Ever
Scariest movie ever! Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Unsuspecting citizens pick up unusual pods found around city. At night , as people sleep, the pods engulf the victim's bodies with fungus like tendrils. When they awaken, the human life force has been replaced with that of the sinister alien. The final scene ends with the humanoid aliens hunting down and forcing the few remaining humans to submit to alien reformation or die.
Switch to channel seven, the local access channel on cable TV. A heavyset man with black hair and a born again hairstyle exhorts the small but vocal crowd to "get right with G--o--d!" He bounces on the balls of his feet and shouts to his flock, "o---bey G---o---d's will". He denounces hom-o-sex-u-als, public schools, the gov-ment. The flock shouts amen. Some wave their arms in the air, and standing, weave back and forth. Thirty minutes later, a new preacher. Different face, same message. Not a showman like the first, but, earnest, determined, preaching revenge, retribution. There is little reference to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John: this is the religion of Revelations. This is the group whose unattended cars will litter the highways during the Rapture, causing traffic jambs, accidents, and general inconvenience to the rest of us. A young woman begins to sing a gospel song. A voice like one of the devil's minions, but, strong, loud, confident. A caterwauling of heavenly bliss. And on it goes, every night for several hours. Preaching at a feverish pitch. Talk shows espousing the sanctity of life of the unborn fetus, and the duty of good Christians to halt the abominable practice of abortion with any means available. Put G--o--d in Gov-ment, take the science out of science. Here the concept of tolerance is as unwelcome as the Theory of Evolution, or that of the "Big Bang".
How can we speak out against people like this? Are they not Christians, the faith of our mothers, fathers, almost every one we know. Will we be branded atheists, heretics, heathens? Do we not speak out against Jesus, whose teachings we believe in? We've seen the consequences, the Inquistion, the witch trials, the KKK. Most of us do not share their message, but they are organized and outspoken. They believe they have God on their side. In the thirties, there must have been many Germans, who, after reading of some Nazi atrocity, said to their wives or friends: "I don't like the looks of this". But they did nothing. To speak out was to become a traitor, an outcast, a prisoner.
These people are not from some dirt road church in the mountains of Appalachia. This is Everytown, USA. Change the name of the deity, the sound of the chant, the cadence of the prayer, and this is Everytown, World. I saw a bumper sticker on a new age hippie girl's VW that said: "Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups". Words to live by as far as I"m concerned. But these are not stupid people, or even ignorant people, at least not all of them. What could it be that so distorts their reality, and poisons their minds against tolerance and humanity? Could it be-------pods?
Switch to channel seven, the local access channel on cable TV. A heavyset man with black hair and a born again hairstyle exhorts the small but vocal crowd to "get right with G--o--d!" He bounces on the balls of his feet and shouts to his flock, "o---bey G---o---d's will". He denounces hom-o-sex-u-als, public schools, the gov-ment. The flock shouts amen. Some wave their arms in the air, and standing, weave back and forth. Thirty minutes later, a new preacher. Different face, same message. Not a showman like the first, but, earnest, determined, preaching revenge, retribution. There is little reference to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John: this is the religion of Revelations. This is the group whose unattended cars will litter the highways during the Rapture, causing traffic jambs, accidents, and general inconvenience to the rest of us. A young woman begins to sing a gospel song. A voice like one of the devil's minions, but, strong, loud, confident. A caterwauling of heavenly bliss. And on it goes, every night for several hours. Preaching at a feverish pitch. Talk shows espousing the sanctity of life of the unborn fetus, and the duty of good Christians to halt the abominable practice of abortion with any means available. Put G--o--d in Gov-ment, take the science out of science. Here the concept of tolerance is as unwelcome as the Theory of Evolution, or that of the "Big Bang".
How can we speak out against people like this? Are they not Christians, the faith of our mothers, fathers, almost every one we know. Will we be branded atheists, heretics, heathens? Do we not speak out against Jesus, whose teachings we believe in? We've seen the consequences, the Inquistion, the witch trials, the KKK. Most of us do not share their message, but they are organized and outspoken. They believe they have God on their side. In the thirties, there must have been many Germans, who, after reading of some Nazi atrocity, said to their wives or friends: "I don't like the looks of this". But they did nothing. To speak out was to become a traitor, an outcast, a prisoner.
These people are not from some dirt road church in the mountains of Appalachia. This is Everytown, USA. Change the name of the deity, the sound of the chant, the cadence of the prayer, and this is Everytown, World. I saw a bumper sticker on a new age hippie girl's VW that said: "Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups". Words to live by as far as I"m concerned. But these are not stupid people, or even ignorant people, at least not all of them. What could it be that so distorts their reality, and poisons their minds against tolerance and humanity? Could it be-------pods?
Monday, December 21, 2009
Movie and Book Reviews.
Things are a little slow at the coffee shop this week. Actually, Wendy has taken off with her family to the mountains, and the shop is officially closed. Not to worry, we have a key. We just went in, make up a pot, and carried on. A few regular customers came in and got a cup of coffee, but there were no lattes, burritos, or pastries served. We will settle up with Wendy next week. Is Ellies' Coffee Shop a last great place or what? The conversation was a bit slow today, just football, Tiger Woods, and a few stories retold by the chief. To fill in a little space, I'll review a movie I saw this week, and a book I read over the weekend.
The movie My wife Kathy and I watched was "Up In The Air". This is truly an adult film, no special effects, just a good plot and smart dialogue. The main character, played by George Clooney, works for a company that specializes in firing people working for other companies. He's a professional traveler who packs light and is obsessed with collecting airline miles. He meets an equally jaded professional traveler, played by Vera Farmiga, and of course an affair ensues. I don't think I have ever seen Vera Farmiga in any other movie, and she is no raving beauty, but she plays a very sexy part. The movie is not your typical romantic comedy, is has lots of dark humor, and the end is not what you might expect, but the interaction between the characters is excellent. I could watch it again.
The book I finished this week end was "The Lacuna" by Barbara Kingsolver. It is a work of historical fiction in which the main character is inserted into the lives of Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, and Lev Trotsky. It spans a period in history from about 1925 to the nineteen fifties, and follows the rise and fall of the communist party in America. I confess that I knew very little about Trotsky's exile to Mexico, the communist party in America, or the McCarthy hearings, but I read the book with my laptop beside me and found the items I Googled really inhanced my appreciation of the book. Kingsolver's style is more like poetry than prose, and is a joy to read.
The movie My wife Kathy and I watched was "Up In The Air". This is truly an adult film, no special effects, just a good plot and smart dialogue. The main character, played by George Clooney, works for a company that specializes in firing people working for other companies. He's a professional traveler who packs light and is obsessed with collecting airline miles. He meets an equally jaded professional traveler, played by Vera Farmiga, and of course an affair ensues. I don't think I have ever seen Vera Farmiga in any other movie, and she is no raving beauty, but she plays a very sexy part. The movie is not your typical romantic comedy, is has lots of dark humor, and the end is not what you might expect, but the interaction between the characters is excellent. I could watch it again.
The book I finished this week end was "The Lacuna" by Barbara Kingsolver. It is a work of historical fiction in which the main character is inserted into the lives of Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, and Lev Trotsky. It spans a period in history from about 1925 to the nineteen fifties, and follows the rise and fall of the communist party in America. I confess that I knew very little about Trotsky's exile to Mexico, the communist party in America, or the McCarthy hearings, but I read the book with my laptop beside me and found the items I Googled really inhanced my appreciation of the book. Kingsolver's style is more like poetry than prose, and is a joy to read.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
At the Movies
There were three movies theatres in downtown Concord when I was young. The largest was the Cabarrus Theatre, which was located in the building between Central Methodist Church and the Hotel Concord. It had a large auditorium with a balcony, and was similar to the Gem Theatre in Kannapolis. I guess it seated about a thousand people. Another theatre was located across the street from the Cabarrus, and it was originally named the Paramount, but that name was later changed to the Center Theatre. It was smaller than the Cabarrus, but it had a balcony, and it had an ornate plaster ceiling which you can still see today if you go upstairs into what has been a series of restaurants since the building was remodeled in the seventies. The other theatre was the Pastime, which had a much smaller venue. I'll come back to it in a moment. There was also a fourth theatre, The State, which was right beside the Center, but I don't think it was in operation during my childhood.
The Cabarrus and the Center Theatres both carried first run "A" movies. They ran a lot of double features. (For the uninitiated, two back to back for the price of one.) There was always at least one cartoon, often a short (A short movie, only a few minutes long.), and sometimes a newsreel. The movies cost a quarter or less, depending on how old I was at the time, and there were often Saturday matinees where you could get in for a collection of coat hangers or six Sun Drop bottle caps. I got into a fight with a kid named "Lucky" at one of these matinees. These shows were very popular. First Charter, then Concord National, now Fifth Third, had a big photograph of a matinee in its lobby at the old headquarters. (After the Cabarrus went out of business, First Charter converted the building to its headquarters.) The show was packed with kids I grew up with. In both theatres, whites were only allowed to sit downstairs: the balconies were reserved for blacks. I don't know why the theatres discriminated against the whites this way. A lot of the movies were in black and white. Of course there had been color movies since the thirties, but I guess they were more expensive to make, so if color was not important to the look or feel of a movie, it was left out. I remember going to a Godzilla type movie that was in black and white except for the climax which showed a colorful electrocution of the monster as he became entangled in high voltage lines.
The other movie theatre in town was the Pastime. It was very small, and was located where Audry's boutique is now located. Notice, that the building is very narrow. The ticket booth and concession stand were both out on the street. The only aisle was located on the right hand side of the theatre. The Pastime mostly only showed "B" movies. I remember going to see a movie called "It" in the Pastime. Another movie I saw there was about this monstrous version of fear that could grip and brake your spine if you became afraid. Fear was rampant in the Pastime because there was always a chance that a rat might run up your leg. I learned later that the father of a teacher I had in high school owned the Pastime. The disregard this teacher and I held for each other was legendary. It made me happy to know that the pompous ass's fortune came from such a lowly source. Anyone that knows me knows to whom I refer.
The Cabarrus and the Center Theatres both carried first run "A" movies. They ran a lot of double features. (For the uninitiated, two back to back for the price of one.) There was always at least one cartoon, often a short (A short movie, only a few minutes long.), and sometimes a newsreel. The movies cost a quarter or less, depending on how old I was at the time, and there were often Saturday matinees where you could get in for a collection of coat hangers or six Sun Drop bottle caps. I got into a fight with a kid named "Lucky" at one of these matinees. These shows were very popular. First Charter, then Concord National, now Fifth Third, had a big photograph of a matinee in its lobby at the old headquarters. (After the Cabarrus went out of business, First Charter converted the building to its headquarters.) The show was packed with kids I grew up with. In both theatres, whites were only allowed to sit downstairs: the balconies were reserved for blacks. I don't know why the theatres discriminated against the whites this way. A lot of the movies were in black and white. Of course there had been color movies since the thirties, but I guess they were more expensive to make, so if color was not important to the look or feel of a movie, it was left out. I remember going to a Godzilla type movie that was in black and white except for the climax which showed a colorful electrocution of the monster as he became entangled in high voltage lines.
The other movie theatre in town was the Pastime. It was very small, and was located where Audry's boutique is now located. Notice, that the building is very narrow. The ticket booth and concession stand were both out on the street. The only aisle was located on the right hand side of the theatre. The Pastime mostly only showed "B" movies. I remember going to see a movie called "It" in the Pastime. Another movie I saw there was about this monstrous version of fear that could grip and brake your spine if you became afraid. Fear was rampant in the Pastime because there was always a chance that a rat might run up your leg. I learned later that the father of a teacher I had in high school owned the Pastime. The disregard this teacher and I held for each other was legendary. It made me happy to know that the pompous ass's fortune came from such a lowly source. Anyone that knows me knows to whom I refer.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
County Commissioners Meeting
I heard that, last week, the County Commissioners had a discussion about global warming, so I decided to check it out. If you've ever watched one of their meetings on TV, you know how painful it can be to sit through it. I discovered that you can watch their meetings on You Tube. The nice thing about watching the meeting on You Tube is that you can fast forward through the boring parts and maybe have a few minutes of useful information to view.
The issue was taken up by Bob Carruth who proceeded to mouth a few inconsequential ramblings about the county doing it's part, but not over doing it. Then Mister " Let the market decide" Jay White chimed in with the republican mantra. " It's just a theory. They've fudged the numbers. Scientists disagree. It will cost jobs and raise taxes." I suppose we can all get jobs as lifeguards when the surf is lapping the shores of Wadesboro. He reminds me of the suicidal optimist, who, upon jumping off the Empire State Building, mumbled to himself. "So far so good." Reverend No had no comment. He appeared to be either asleep, dead, or merely day dreaming about things he does in his spare time. If you happened to read my post about Pascal's Wager, you know how I feel about the issue. There are plenty of things we can do to conserve energy and natural resources and reduce our carbon footprint, that would good for our society even if it turns out that global warming is not really a threat. This global warming issue has given me a good opportunity to say what I really think about our county commissioners. I'm going to make a big broad brush statement about the commission, and then I'm going to go into more detail in latter posts.
The county commissioners don't give a rat's ass about the citizens of Cabarrus County. Maybe that's too strong. Most of them don't give a ......... None of them give more than lip service to quality of life issues in the county. All of them to some degree are in an incestuous relationship with the developers and builders in the county. And yet, they make up the most competent commission we've had in my memory. With a few exceptions.
The issue was taken up by Bob Carruth who proceeded to mouth a few inconsequential ramblings about the county doing it's part, but not over doing it. Then Mister " Let the market decide" Jay White chimed in with the republican mantra. " It's just a theory. They've fudged the numbers. Scientists disagree. It will cost jobs and raise taxes." I suppose we can all get jobs as lifeguards when the surf is lapping the shores of Wadesboro. He reminds me of the suicidal optimist, who, upon jumping off the Empire State Building, mumbled to himself. "So far so good." Reverend No had no comment. He appeared to be either asleep, dead, or merely day dreaming about things he does in his spare time. If you happened to read my post about Pascal's Wager, you know how I feel about the issue. There are plenty of things we can do to conserve energy and natural resources and reduce our carbon footprint, that would good for our society even if it turns out that global warming is not really a threat. This global warming issue has given me a good opportunity to say what I really think about our county commissioners. I'm going to make a big broad brush statement about the commission, and then I'm going to go into more detail in latter posts.
The county commissioners don't give a rat's ass about the citizens of Cabarrus County. Maybe that's too strong. Most of them don't give a ......... None of them give more than lip service to quality of life issues in the county. All of them to some degree are in an incestuous relationship with the developers and builders in the county. And yet, they make up the most competent commission we've had in my memory. With a few exceptions.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Poetry?
Here's a poem I wrote about our Coffee Klatch when we occupied the window of the last coffee shop. It's the only poem I've ever written, and I'm not really sure it even qualifies as poetry. It certainly does not rhyme, but is a bit obscure, and has a certain rhythm. If you want to know what I'm referring to in any line, you will have to come in and ask.
Coffee Klatch
First Tim
Or me
Later, Bob, Tom, Babe, or maybe the chief
Snickerdoodle, French Roast, decaf, or strong
What's new Wilma?
Crazy, tragic, mostly mundane
Four men or five
Not yet Codgers
But soon
Our seats are assigned
Not really
Chairs second hand from a funeral parlor
Wing backs
Mine to the right
It reclines
Why?
Bob to the left
Tim and Tom across
Latecomers and casuals pull one up
We talk
Politics, religion, sports,
Women
Lecherous old fools
Opinionated, stubborn, loud,
Frustrated
I'm of the left, Bob the right
I jab
Bob Grimaces
Tim deliberates
Tom announces the price of oil
Customers come in
A latte, decaf, jet engine takes off
A cappuccino
Herb
No time to stop
Solving the world's problems?
Laughs
Gone
Big breasts walk by
Talk stops
Resumes
Wow!
Time to go
It's almost eight
See you tomorrow
Have a good day
Coffee Klatch
First Tim
Or me
Later, Bob, Tom, Babe, or maybe the chief
Snickerdoodle, French Roast, decaf, or strong
What's new Wilma?
Crazy, tragic, mostly mundane
Four men or five
Not yet Codgers
But soon
Our seats are assigned
Not really
Chairs second hand from a funeral parlor
Wing backs
Mine to the right
It reclines
Why?
Bob to the left
Tim and Tom across
Latecomers and casuals pull one up
We talk
Politics, religion, sports,
Women
Lecherous old fools
Opinionated, stubborn, loud,
Frustrated
I'm of the left, Bob the right
I jab
Bob Grimaces
Tim deliberates
Tom announces the price of oil
Customers come in
A latte, decaf, jet engine takes off
A cappuccino
Herb
No time to stop
Solving the world's problems?
Laughs
Gone
Big breasts walk by
Talk stops
Resumes
Wow!
Time to go
It's almost eight
See you tomorrow
Have a good day
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Lights Out
Last night, I was about an hour into writing a posting when I decided that I needed to look up something on Google. I opened a new tab, typed in my search, and hit the enter key. Unfortunately, I had somehow gotten back to the tab with the blog site, and when I hit enter, I lost all of the posting that I had written. It's kind of like, "the dog ate my homework". Anyway, here I am, rewriting last nights' posting. Of course, I can't recreate it just as I had written it, and it's just as well, because it had become a little too cumbersome for my taste. I'll start out where I left off last night. That is, with the statistic that I was looking up.
Here's a big number for you: Three hundred and eleven billion watts. That's the total amount of electricity that is used to power all of the commercial, governmental, and street lighting that is on every night in this country. In order to produce this much electricity, it takes the equivalent capacity of over one hundred McGuire Nuclear Stations. When you finish reading this posting go to http://www.nightearth.com/ to see a composite photograph of the earth at night, taken from a satellite.
I hate all of this unnecessary lighting that we use in this country. It gives us a false sense of security, it pollutes the night sky to the point that we cannot see the stars, and it wastes tremendous quantities of our money and natural resources.
I remember one nice upside to Hurricane Hugo. For four nights, I could sit on my front porch in the dark, without the glare of a high pressure sodium street light in my face. It reminded me of staying at my grandparents' house on Lake Lynn Road when I was a kid. They didn't have any street lights around, and they went to bed early. It was so dark, you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. No stranger could have possibly found their house at night. If it were not for street lights, "In cold Blood" could never have been written, and the Clutter family would still be alive.
There were three street lights on my block when I was young. They were the kind with the metal hood with a porcelain reflector and an incandescent bulb. They were set fairly low on the utility poles, and they produced a pool of light that you could use to perhaps read a newspaper headline. These lights were more of a means of navigation rather than a source of illumination. I could ride my bike or walk up the street with out getting lost or hitting anything as big as a parked car, by simply aiming at the next murky island of light. They produced just enough light that I could find trouble, instead of trouble finding me. I never looked around and wished there was more light.
I don't expect that we will ever go back to the nineteen fifties level of lighting. If we do, it will be because the world has gone to hell in a hand basket, and we will have far bigger things to worry about. I do wish that we could tone down the lighting some. Perhaps street lights that are lower to the ground, with light that is more downwardly directed, and of lower wattage. And maybe, for example, the car dealerships could cut back on lighting in excess of that at the Panthers Stadium, or at least cut the lights off at some point each night.
I know that the opportunities are few and far between, but I hope that you get a chance to "see" the dark again one night.
Here's a big number for you: Three hundred and eleven billion watts. That's the total amount of electricity that is used to power all of the commercial, governmental, and street lighting that is on every night in this country. In order to produce this much electricity, it takes the equivalent capacity of over one hundred McGuire Nuclear Stations. When you finish reading this posting go to http://www.nightearth.com/ to see a composite photograph of the earth at night, taken from a satellite.
I hate all of this unnecessary lighting that we use in this country. It gives us a false sense of security, it pollutes the night sky to the point that we cannot see the stars, and it wastes tremendous quantities of our money and natural resources.
I remember one nice upside to Hurricane Hugo. For four nights, I could sit on my front porch in the dark, without the glare of a high pressure sodium street light in my face. It reminded me of staying at my grandparents' house on Lake Lynn Road when I was a kid. They didn't have any street lights around, and they went to bed early. It was so dark, you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. No stranger could have possibly found their house at night. If it were not for street lights, "In cold Blood" could never have been written, and the Clutter family would still be alive.
There were three street lights on my block when I was young. They were the kind with the metal hood with a porcelain reflector and an incandescent bulb. They were set fairly low on the utility poles, and they produced a pool of light that you could use to perhaps read a newspaper headline. These lights were more of a means of navigation rather than a source of illumination. I could ride my bike or walk up the street with out getting lost or hitting anything as big as a parked car, by simply aiming at the next murky island of light. They produced just enough light that I could find trouble, instead of trouble finding me. I never looked around and wished there was more light.
I don't expect that we will ever go back to the nineteen fifties level of lighting. If we do, it will be because the world has gone to hell in a hand basket, and we will have far bigger things to worry about. I do wish that we could tone down the lighting some. Perhaps street lights that are lower to the ground, with light that is more downwardly directed, and of lower wattage. And maybe, for example, the car dealerships could cut back on lighting in excess of that at the Panthers Stadium, or at least cut the lights off at some point each night.
I know that the opportunities are few and far between, but I hope that you get a chance to "see" the dark again one night.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Is there anybody out there?
OK, so I'm about ten posts into this blog, and I'm wondering if it's worth the effort. It is an effort! I don't have particularly good writing skills, and my spelling is terrible. I have to use spell check and a dictionary I have downloaded on my computer. Sometimes my spelling is so far off the mark that my dictionary and spellcheck can't even make a suggestion. I'm sure I'm getting abbreviations all wrong. I've had a copy of "The Elements of Style" for twenty years, and I'm sure it will help as soon as I get around to reading it. (By the way, how do you underline titles on a computer?) There's also the embarrassment factor. Putting posts on line is like being approached by a channel nine news anchor. You know you are about to be exposed as an ignorant redneck with bad grammar and bad teeth. I think my friends may be avoiding me.
"Have you read my blog?" I ask. "No, I've been so busy, I have not had time." or "can't talk now see you later." My coffee klatch buddies begin every sentence with. "Don't quote me on this."
On the other hand, putting pen to paper, or index finger to key, does have its' rewards. It gives me an opportunity to be much more precise about what I believe and what I want to say. Casual conversation is usually so rushed that it is difficult to make a point, or to give a thoughtful reply.
I think that if you could go back and read a transcript of most group dialogue, you would find it, not banal exactly, but somewhat naked. It would be like watching closed captioning on TV, without the picture. Writing, even at this level, has the feel of learning to paint or to carve a bird out of a piece of wood. A little primitive, but with a little time and effort, maybe something a bit more graceful.
I hope someone finds the time to read these posts, and maybe to carve out a comment.
"Have you read my blog?" I ask. "No, I've been so busy, I have not had time." or "can't talk now see you later." My coffee klatch buddies begin every sentence with. "Don't quote me on this."
On the other hand, putting pen to paper, or index finger to key, does have its' rewards. It gives me an opportunity to be much more precise about what I believe and what I want to say. Casual conversation is usually so rushed that it is difficult to make a point, or to give a thoughtful reply.
I think that if you could go back and read a transcript of most group dialogue, you would find it, not banal exactly, but somewhat naked. It would be like watching closed captioning on TV, without the picture. Writing, even at this level, has the feel of learning to paint or to carve a bird out of a piece of wood. A little primitive, but with a little time and effort, maybe something a bit more graceful.
I hope someone finds the time to read these posts, and maybe to carve out a comment.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Pascal's Wager and Global Warming
Today we got into a discussion about global warming. As usual, Howard and I were on opposite sides of the issue. There has been a lot of news lately about scientists fudging the numbers in order to make their case supporting the dangers of global warming, and Howard was quick to point out that he didn't trust the statistics and rhetoric that is out there. I personally believe that humans are having a huge impact on world climate change, and that the possibility of global warming is an important issue we should be concerned about. Here is my argument supporting concern for global warming.
In the sixteenth century, french philosopher and mathmatician, Blaise Pascal, wrote an essay titled "The Wager" in which he made a statistical argument to advocate belief in God. His argument in a nutshell is this. If you behave as if there is a God and live your life according the God's teachings, there is a good chance that you will go to heaven. If it turns out that that there is no God, you have lost nothing, in fact, you have gained by leading a moral life. However, if you act as if there is no God, you your life on earth will be dissolute at best, and you will have no chance of going to heaven. He also advocates that you attend church, and pray, on the chance that your participation may help you to obtain faith in God.
I think that the logic that Pascal applied in "The Wager" is analogous to the logic that should be applied to global warming. If mankind behaves as if global warming is a dangerous issue, and we act accordingly by reducing our use of fossil fuels, we have two possible outcomes. We may actually avert the serious consequences of global warming, but if not, we still have the positive outcome of reducing our use of fossil fuels, which improves our environment, and reduces our dependence on foreign sources of oil with all of the attendant bad side effects of that dependence.
On the other hand, if we ignore the possibility of negative effects of global warming, and they come to pass, then we have doomed ourselves to an environmental hell. Or if we continue on our present path and global warming does not happen, we have still burdened our children and future generations to a world of declining supplies, higher prices, and negative influence of the oil producing nations.
In the sixteenth century, french philosopher and mathmatician, Blaise Pascal, wrote an essay titled "The Wager" in which he made a statistical argument to advocate belief in God. His argument in a nutshell is this. If you behave as if there is a God and live your life according the God's teachings, there is a good chance that you will go to heaven. If it turns out that that there is no God, you have lost nothing, in fact, you have gained by leading a moral life. However, if you act as if there is no God, you your life on earth will be dissolute at best, and you will have no chance of going to heaven. He also advocates that you attend church, and pray, on the chance that your participation may help you to obtain faith in God.
I think that the logic that Pascal applied in "The Wager" is analogous to the logic that should be applied to global warming. If mankind behaves as if global warming is a dangerous issue, and we act accordingly by reducing our use of fossil fuels, we have two possible outcomes. We may actually avert the serious consequences of global warming, but if not, we still have the positive outcome of reducing our use of fossil fuels, which improves our environment, and reduces our dependence on foreign sources of oil with all of the attendant bad side effects of that dependence.
On the other hand, if we ignore the possibility of negative effects of global warming, and they come to pass, then we have doomed ourselves to an environmental hell. Or if we continue on our present path and global warming does not happen, we have still burdened our children and future generations to a world of declining supplies, higher prices, and negative influence of the oil producing nations.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Concord Circa the Nineteen Fifties
Here are a few things I remember about downtown Concord when I was a child. The downtown was a busy place when I was young, there were no malls or shopping centers to suck the shoppers to the suburbs. The stores provided about everything a person needed. There were a couple of major department stores, Belk's and JC Penny, and there also several hardware stores, drug stores, clothing stores, movie theatres, shoe stores, restaurants, and others. I don't remember any craft crap stores or bail bondsman (there probably were some bondsman, but I had no reason to be aware of them at that point in my life).
My mom would often park our 1940 ford in the Gulf Station parking lot behind the Hotel Concord. I remember that there was still a livery stable beside the furniture store at the corner of Church Street and Cabarrus Avenue (then called Depot Street). A few farmers would still drive their wagons into town to shop. The metered spaces along Union Street were usually full, (mostly black cars) and there was a police officer assigned to direct traffic at the corner of Union and Depot. His name was officer Burris, and I went to grade school with his two kids, Warren and Ellen. I don't believe he had a driver's license but I could be wrong about that.
The largest store was the Belk's and it was located where Emma's , and Two Leaves and a Bud (sounds like they are selling medical marijuana instead of tea) restaurants are now. A couple of things stand out in my mind about Belk's. The elevator was not self service, an older black man operated it for you. The shoe store was down in the basement, and it had a fluoroscope to aid buyers in obtaining a good fit. A fluoroscope is a type of x-ray device which projected it's image on to a green cathode ray tube screen that you could observe through a view finder. Fluoroscopes were later banned when the ill effects of repeated exposure to radiation became better understood. I don't suspect that the casual shoe buyer was much affected by the machine, but I hate to think of the lasting effects on the shoe salesman. In any case, it was great fun to stand on the machine and watch the bones in your toes as you wiggled them inside your shoes. The Belk's also had a snack bar in the basement, and during the Christmas season had a toy store up on the third floor. I worked in the toy department one Christmas during high school.
You could pass between the Belk's and the McClellens Five and Dime by going down three steps between the two building. The steps are still there in the back of the consignment store behind the Cabarrus Creamery. Just down the steps to the left were the gold fish tank and the whites only water fountain. I guess anyone could buy the goldfish, but, well you know the rest. Sometimes my mom would buy me a bag of hot roasted red skin peanuts at McClellens. I can taste them just thinking about them.
The other big downtown store was the JC Penny, located where the Bistro is now. My grandmother worked upstairs altering clothing for the customers. I would always stop by if I came downtown hoping to cage a dime, or a least a piece of Juicy Fruit.
Gordan and I are the only two in our coffee klatch that were born and raised here. I'll have to get him to collaborate on my descriptions next time. He's a lot older than me, and probably remembers taking the trolley down to the train depot.
My mom would often park our 1940 ford in the Gulf Station parking lot behind the Hotel Concord. I remember that there was still a livery stable beside the furniture store at the corner of Church Street and Cabarrus Avenue (then called Depot Street). A few farmers would still drive their wagons into town to shop. The metered spaces along Union Street were usually full, (mostly black cars) and there was a police officer assigned to direct traffic at the corner of Union and Depot. His name was officer Burris, and I went to grade school with his two kids, Warren and Ellen. I don't believe he had a driver's license but I could be wrong about that.
The largest store was the Belk's and it was located where Emma's , and Two Leaves and a Bud (sounds like they are selling medical marijuana instead of tea) restaurants are now. A couple of things stand out in my mind about Belk's. The elevator was not self service, an older black man operated it for you. The shoe store was down in the basement, and it had a fluoroscope to aid buyers in obtaining a good fit. A fluoroscope is a type of x-ray device which projected it's image on to a green cathode ray tube screen that you could observe through a view finder. Fluoroscopes were later banned when the ill effects of repeated exposure to radiation became better understood. I don't suspect that the casual shoe buyer was much affected by the machine, but I hate to think of the lasting effects on the shoe salesman. In any case, it was great fun to stand on the machine and watch the bones in your toes as you wiggled them inside your shoes. The Belk's also had a snack bar in the basement, and during the Christmas season had a toy store up on the third floor. I worked in the toy department one Christmas during high school.
You could pass between the Belk's and the McClellens Five and Dime by going down three steps between the two building. The steps are still there in the back of the consignment store behind the Cabarrus Creamery. Just down the steps to the left were the gold fish tank and the whites only water fountain. I guess anyone could buy the goldfish, but, well you know the rest. Sometimes my mom would buy me a bag of hot roasted red skin peanuts at McClellens. I can taste them just thinking about them.
The other big downtown store was the JC Penny, located where the Bistro is now. My grandmother worked upstairs altering clothing for the customers. I would always stop by if I came downtown hoping to cage a dime, or a least a piece of Juicy Fruit.
Gordan and I are the only two in our coffee klatch that were born and raised here. I'll have to get him to collaborate on my descriptions next time. He's a lot older than me, and probably remembers taking the trolley down to the train depot.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Greasy Spoons
Tom is our resident expert on eateries across the state. He is in sales, and spends lots of time travelling from town to town. I hope he loves his work as much as he loves his food. His sense of direction is even tied into the places he eats. Ask him directions to Hicksville Corner, and he'll say: "go ten miles and turn right at Herman's restaurant and feed store (great ham biscuits), go 20 miles and turn left at Warren's Garage and luncheonette (Sunday brunch 1:00 till 3:00), and go 13 miles pass Hymie's Bar-be-Que on the right (try the pork, it's eastern style). It reminds me of the good old days when you could give directions to any place in Charlotte based on the destination's proximity to the Krispi Creme on Independence. I like my little tales and descriptions to also have a destination, and this one is no exception. I 'm headed back to the "last great place" theme in my first posting.
Let me just say right out front. I hate chain restaurants. I only go to them as a last resort. It galls me to see my friends who have restaurants in downtown Concord struggling along, while chains like Longhorn, Applebees's, and Chillie's, are packing the crowds in every night. Just like the big box stores suck the life out of small town retail, the interstate highway system has killed the independent restaurant business. I can pick a major intersection, on any Interstate highway in America , and accurately predict the choices of places to eat. I understand that travelers find this extremely convenient, but what is the attraction to the local population. Dining is more than filling your stomach, it is greatly enhanced by the ambiance of the place where you are having your meal. An important part of that ambiance is having friends around you where you dine. I can't go into any restaurant in downtown Concord and not run into people I know. I don't always have a conversation with them, maybe I wave or say a quick hello, but I take great comfort knowing they are around.
Here's an observation about the reason that downtown businesses don't seem to thrive. The reason is parking. It is not about the availability of parking, or the distance of the parking spot to the store, it's all about line of sight parking. People will walk across a half of a mile of parking lot, dodging cars backing out of and turning in to parking spaces, as long as their destination is in sight. Ask them to walk 200 feet of sidewalk to a shop around the corner; forget it. Maybe the downtown merchants could put up a series of mirrors so that there stores are always in sight.
Let me just say right out front. I hate chain restaurants. I only go to them as a last resort. It galls me to see my friends who have restaurants in downtown Concord struggling along, while chains like Longhorn, Applebees's, and Chillie's, are packing the crowds in every night. Just like the big box stores suck the life out of small town retail, the interstate highway system has killed the independent restaurant business. I can pick a major intersection, on any Interstate highway in America , and accurately predict the choices of places to eat. I understand that travelers find this extremely convenient, but what is the attraction to the local population. Dining is more than filling your stomach, it is greatly enhanced by the ambiance of the place where you are having your meal. An important part of that ambiance is having friends around you where you dine. I can't go into any restaurant in downtown Concord and not run into people I know. I don't always have a conversation with them, maybe I wave or say a quick hello, but I take great comfort knowing they are around.
Here's an observation about the reason that downtown businesses don't seem to thrive. The reason is parking. It is not about the availability of parking, or the distance of the parking spot to the store, it's all about line of sight parking. People will walk across a half of a mile of parking lot, dodging cars backing out of and turning in to parking spaces, as long as their destination is in sight. Ask them to walk 200 feet of sidewalk to a shop around the corner; forget it. Maybe the downtown merchants could put up a series of mirrors so that there stores are always in sight.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Business of the week
A guy pulled up beside me at the stoplight at the corner of Corban and Union Street last week, and asked me if it was OK to park right in front of the court house. I guess he mistook me for the mayor or something, although I'm taller and better looking. I gave him directions to a parking lot, and he drove off. I immediately regretted that I didn't say; "Just park at the What-a-Burger, it's close to the court house, and they don't mind". This is my way of introducing you to my pick of the business of the week, Bubba's Towing Service. What a great business model, you park your truck in the What-a-Burger parking lot, your ass in a corner booth, and you wait for some rube to park in a reserved space. No offence Wendy. I think the city should give Bubba a piece of chalk and half the take from parking fines, and turn him loose on the two hour parking spaces uptown. He would not need the golf cart the meter man rides around in, he could just double park his truck. Anyway, keep up the good work, Bubba. By the way, I drive a grey Prius.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Guest Appearances
Our coffee klatch had a couple of extra members today. Bob is nearly a regular, and with a little effort, could be a certified member. He's an ex police chief, and an attorney, so he brings a lot of insight into our conversations. He also loves hot peppers, and brings a little bag of then in to eat with his breakfast burritos. Smoke comes out of the bag when he opens it. It's very entertaining to watch him punish himself with those things. Doug also came in. He works in Charlotte so he can't come in very often. Too Bad. Doug and I grew up on the same street, but we were not close friends when we were kids. I lived across the street from the Williams boys, and I think Doug's mother thought it was to dangerous for him and his brother to hang out with us. She was probably right.
Kudos to Mike Huckabee for commuting the sentence of Maurice Clemmons, the guy who killed the four police officers in Washington State yesterday. Just before I came in today I heard that the killer had been shot and killed by a police officer in Seattle just a few hours earlier. Good riddance. It's just too bad he was out of prison to start with.
We tried to avoid this topic, but in the end, we could not resist speculating about the Tiger Woods wrecking in front of his own house in the middle of the night. Of course, we don't know what really happened, and the truth of the matter is that it's really not any of our business, but here's a little quiz for you. Do you know why men give their penises nicknames? Because they don't won't complete strangers making their decisions for them. It's hard enough for mere mortals to avoid temptation, so I imagine that celebrities must be under huge pressure. Just think of some of the recent examples. I would love to know how President Clinton, or Governor Mark Sanford, or any number of others rationalized their decisions. People with so much to lose, and yet..... Actually, I wish someone would dangle a little of that kind of temptation in front of me. I'm not worried about my ability to resist, but I could sure use a boost in my morale.
Kudos to Mike Huckabee for commuting the sentence of Maurice Clemmons, the guy who killed the four police officers in Washington State yesterday. Just before I came in today I heard that the killer had been shot and killed by a police officer in Seattle just a few hours earlier. Good riddance. It's just too bad he was out of prison to start with.
We tried to avoid this topic, but in the end, we could not resist speculating about the Tiger Woods wrecking in front of his own house in the middle of the night. Of course, we don't know what really happened, and the truth of the matter is that it's really not any of our business, but here's a little quiz for you. Do you know why men give their penises nicknames? Because they don't won't complete strangers making their decisions for them. It's hard enough for mere mortals to avoid temptation, so I imagine that celebrities must be under huge pressure. Just think of some of the recent examples. I would love to know how President Clinton, or Governor Mark Sanford, or any number of others rationalized their decisions. People with so much to lose, and yet..... Actually, I wish someone would dangle a little of that kind of temptation in front of me. I'm not worried about my ability to resist, but I could sure use a boost in my morale.
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