Monthly Archives: September 2008

Deja vu all over again

To Kwame – having an affair, while unseemly, is not against the law. Lying about it under oath, however, is.

Looks like one nightmare is over for the troubled, now ex-mayor of Detroit, with another one waiting in the wings; namely, jail time, disbarment, probation from seeking elected office for five years, and making restitution to the tune of a cool $1M.

It’s been interesting over the past few months to watch this story develop (and degenerate). I mean, people fall down sometimes. I have no rocks to throw or ax to sharpen. But the proof was in the text messages. How do you fight that? He maintained his innocence for such a long time — and now, to come clean when it was clear he had no other options simply makes him look silly. And don’t forget guilty.

Personally, I chalk it up to a flaw that trips up the best of us: the obligatory pride which goeth before a fall. Hubris. I-can’t-get-caught-ism.

The Thriller has a saying that really makes sense, and I plagiarize him on it all the time: People will ride the gravy train until it stops running. That’s what Kwame did. The action was great and the perks were many. He was drunk on his power, which clouded his better judgment. I don’t think he’s a bad man; rather, I just think he took a gargantuan detour to Stupidville because he (apparently) believed there was no one watching him as he ultimately painted himself into a corner. That gets ’em every time.

For real…how many Kwames are there out there in public life? Many are nice guys (and girls) who simply believe they are above reproach or censure, so they throw caution (and common sense) to the four winds and behave as if life’s a big frat party. Fun while it lasts, but, as Yours Truly is wont to say to her students: Ya makes yer choices and ya lives with the consequences. And Kwame is reaping his harvest right now.

The outcome reminds me a little of the quiz show controversy of the 1950s. What Charles Van Doren did (fooled the TV public by getting the quiz answers ahead of time) was not illegal, but lying about it to a federal grand jury….

The crazy things we do.

That’s enough spewing of gray matter for one morning.

Hollyweird II

I just don’t get it. How inattentive (or strung out) do you have to be to smuggle heroin and cocaine into LAX and think you’ll get away with it?

Former teen star Mackenzie Phillips was nailed again for dope last night. I talked about her costar, Valerie Bertinelli, a couple of weeks ago. They were both on the 70s sitcom, One Day at a Time. Mackenzie was eventually fired from the show for repeated drug use. Some habits really do die hard…

She is the daughter of the late John Phillips of The Mamas & the Papas fame, who, unfortunately, was also a career druggie. But he was a talented songwriter, too, having written one of my all-time faves of the 60s, “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair).” Absolutely great song.

Anyway, Mackenzie is reportedly going back to rehab. I hate that word, rehab. Talk about overused — and for increasingly wackier reasons (can you say David Duchovny?). But honestly, those of us in the real world can’t go to rehab. We deal with it. Who could take six weeks off work at the drop of a hat to “go to the spa and get your health back?”

Truly though, we all have our demons to fight. I wish her the best. But can rehab be addictive?

Photo credit: eonline.com

e(vil)Bay

Just when I thought I was the only one getting the infuriating run-around from eBay, I found I was indeed not alone.

I usually have no trouble putting my thoughts into words. But eBay “support” has bested me. I cannot even begin to sufficiently explain my level of utter disgust, anger and unmitigated exasperation. I have never in my life been treated this way.

After the most recent absolutely idiotic and unbelievably lame response, I could stand no more…

This is the most asinine, ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I cannot convey to you my complete disgust at the treatment I have received after 8 years of buying and selling on eBay. I’m not talking about the [auction listing in question]; I’m talking about being summarily ignored, then spoken to with stupid canned responses, as if I know nothing.

You have all positioned yourselves to be consummately unreachable; you no longer function as a community, but rather as a corporate steamroller. Your faithful customers are the last of your concerns.

I know you are a simple CS droid and have no power. If I could get the email or phone number of someone higher up, I would. But I was told by someone in your miserable excuse for “Live Help” that her supervisor’s contact information was “confidential.” Terrific. Customer Service that you can’t reach. Am I the only one who sees anything wrong with this picture?

My God. No wonder you’re worried about Amazon. You should be. People are jumping the eBay/PayPal pirate ship in droves. A simple Google search on “unfair ebay practices” reveals that.

You (that is, your company, not you personally, as your place on the power grid is only slightly above mine) may enjoy the monopoly now, but your time is waning. I hope you all get what’s coming to you.

And now I feel better.

Nothing will change, though. Good, honest, faithful eBay sellers will still be openly and willingly sacrificed (doing the aforementioned web search will reveal plenty about that). In the big scheme of life, I guess it’s not a big deal. But it sure was this afternoon for awhile…heh.

Fink out.

The beginning of the end…

….followed by another beginning.

Today marks the beginning of my last doctoral class. It’s been a long haul: eleven courses in all, 44 semester hours, nonstop through weekends, musical and dinner theater rehearsals and performances, weddings and the birth of a grandchild, holidays and summer break, since January of 2007. I’m glad this is the last one, but by no means is it the end. And I’m not talking about writing the dissertation (which I’m actually looking forward to).

Unlike many degree programs, this doctorate doesn’t end by way of completing classes and graduating. If only…

Rather, it ends with my taking three huge exams. If I pass, I collect (or, more likely, pay) my $200 and advance to the residency stage, where I will defend my dissertation proposal to a panel of professors. If I don’t pass, I can test again for a total of three times. If I don’t pass after the third round, it’s sayonara. Do a curriculum project and we’ll give you a second masters degree. Nice knowing you. Have a nice life. Thanks for the fifty grand, and please go away now.

That’s a bit unnerving for me. My family and friends, who are wonderful and very supportive, have all assured me that I will pass the Qualifying Exams I will take in the spring. But, as I’ve told them, other (and very smart) people have tried and failed. It’s an exceptionally difficult program to get through. Out of the last group of 70 students who took the QEs, only 7 passed. That’s an eight percent pass rate.

Things don’t look good for the home team.

I’m not trying to be all doom-and-gloom and woe-is-me, but I am trying to be realistic. If a Tanglewood scholar can’t pass, what are the chances for a jazz and rock and roll singer? I have no answers. I don’t know…it’s good for me to “verbalize” my fears, I suppose. Maybe the planets will align properly on testing day and I’ll be magnificent. Maybe I’ll go down in flames. No way to tell. I can only prepare and do my best.

But if the worst does happen, I’m not going to just fall on my sword. I will keep fighting the fight (although what that means, I’m not entirely sure). I know that there are many more important things in life than having “Dr.” in front of your name. And I’ve learned a ton of great stuff in this journey. It will undoubtedly help me in the future, whatever that will be, no matter what the test grades are.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Fink out.

Horror-cane

You know how you read one page, and then find an interesting link, then another, then another? That happened to me yesterday afternoon while I was recuperating from my fabulous visit with Jake (he wears out Grammie’s arms, lemmetellya). He is into everything and loves playing piano from his mommy’s lap. I have been told by my son that I will be Jake’s piano teacher, like it or not. (Actually, I like it.)

But I digress. Back to the subject.

After the kids left, I checked weather.com for the latest on Gustav. I ended up a half an hour later on several sites on the history of hurricanes in the US over the last century or so. Time and again, the hurricane that obliterated Galveston, Texas in 1900 was mentioned.

I’d seen a special on the Weather Channel about it a few years ago; the storm still holds the record for the highest casualties of any weather-related disaster in US history. And much of it can be chalked up to plain, old-fashioned human hubris.

The town weather man, Isaac Cline, told residents who insisted a seawall be built to protect Galveston from hurricanes that there was pretty much no way a storm could destroy the city, or even disable it. He dismissed the idea as rubbish, and since he was the resident weather scientist, folks took him at his word.

It would be their undoing.

On 8 September, 1900, Galveston was indeed destroyed by “The Great Storm.” And, as is the case with all hurricanes that make landfall, it wasn’t the wind and rain that did the deed — it was the storm surge. Most of the US cities on the Atlantic coastline are less than 10 feet above sea level, which makes them sitting ducks.

Remember the tsunami back in 2004 that hit Banda Aceh, Indonesia and Phuket, Thailand? A tsunami is a big ol’ storm surge. Check out this home video if you want to see what a few big waves can do to a city:
[quicktime]http://finkweb.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/tsunamiphuket.mp4[/quicktime]

You can also see some incredible before-and-after pictures of storm surge damage here.

At least there are early warning systems nowadays that make it almost a certainty that people can evacuate to higher ground and escape the worst.

It is difficult to imagine doing what the citizens of Galveston had to do after their tragedy. With as many as 8,000 dead, cemeteries (which were also flooded, most likely) were out of the question. They ended up gathering up the dead in wagons, putting them on a barge, sailing out a ways, and dumping them in the ocean.

Let’s hope it’s not that bad today, anywhere. Ick.

Photo credits: abcnews.com, noaa.gov