 
"No Irish Need Apply"

Peter Cavanaugh

Copyright 2012 by Peter Cavanaugh

Smashwords Edition

Foreword

The Sketch of a Woman and Children represents Bridget O'Donnel. It is a classic "Famine Picture" very familiar in Irish-American circles -- originally published in the London News on December 22, 1849 in a Christmas Relief Drive

Her story is briefly quoted therein:

"We were put out last November; we owed some rent. I was at this time lying in fever. They commenced knocking down the house and had half of it knocked down when two neighbours, women, Nell Spellesley and Kate How, brought me out. I was carried into a cabin and lay there for eight days when I had the creature (the child) born dead. I lay for three weeks after that. The whole of my family got the fever, and one boy thirteen years old died with want and with hunger while we were lying sick."

Powerful anti-Irish sentiments encountered in America by refugees from the Great Starvation were whispered about in my family for years, although in the lowest of possible tones lest children hear. There was a heart wrenching, guilt churning, utterly powerless shame to it all.

In the middle of the 19th Century, more than a million Irish died of starvation as hundreds of thousands more perished on "coffin ships."

It was a triumph of Free Enterprise.

"If you go down in the streets today, baby, you'd better open your eyes.

Folk down there really don't care which way the pressure lies,

So I've decided what I'm gonna do now --

And I'm packing my bags for the Misty Mountains, where the spirits go

Over the hills where the spirits fly."

"Misty Mountain Hop" -- Led Zeppelin (1973)

The Misty Mountains of Zeppelin fame are in Wales. They are referenced in J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Return Of The King." Robert Plant is a big fan of Tolkien and I'm a big fan of Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones and John Bonham.

Eileen and I moved from Michigan to Oakhurst, California in November of 2006, here to the Misty Mountains of the Sierra.

I've been writing newspaper columns for The Sierra Star, a McClatchy publication covering much of the Yosemite region of Central California.

Much of what follows is from these pieces and other essays I've finally found the time and inspiration to compose. My inspiration?

Horror.

Horror at the threatened destruction of our inherited democracy and long established societal values in the name of "freedom."

Horror at thousands of lives and trillions of dollars wasted in war.

Horror at such an abject failure to honor our collective past with proper reflection and restored dedication, being far too involved with lotterys, liposections and Lindsay Lohan.

Yet, with all the miraculous options open in this age of wondrous miracles, I'm so very pleased you're here.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Peter Cavanaugh

December 1, 2012

Oakhurst, California

"Where the Spirits Fly"

Chapter One -- "No Irish Need Apply!"

It was a Happy New Year beginning for wealthy corporate interests in Wisconsin last month when newly-elected Republican Governor Scott Walker assumed both office and the delusion that no one would particularly notice when he signed a series of bills in his opening weeks granting $140 million dollars to out-of-state corporations in tax relief. Equally preposterous was Walker's naiveté in supposing that the $137 million dollar state budget shortfall thus created could be blamed on Wisconsin's unionized government employees, except several police and firefighter groups which supported him in his recent election campaign, loyalty having its place in pay backs.

Wisconsin is no California.

Besides winning Super Bowl XLV, beating top-ranked Ohio State in basketball and brewing beer by the boatload, the Badger State proudly waltzed into 2011 with a budget actually in balance, more rare in our times than a good hair day for Donald Trump. That's until Walker and fellow Republicans in the Wisconsin House and Senate, having ridden November's Tea Party Wave to super majority status, whacked off that cool 140 million for their friends. Giddy with glee, Walker then proceeded to pronounce Wisconsin's unionized governmental employees, save those with squad cars or fire trucks, guilty of gross financial malfeasance. How? By being paid according to their union contract. Their penalty? The 2011 "Budget Repair Bill" (SS 11), introduced and voted on in less than a single week.

SS 11 was designed to strip the ability of Wisconsin public employee unions to bargain over pensions, health insurance and working conditions and would limit those unions to negotiate only on base wages. But there will be no discussions over an immediate increase in forced, arbitrary contributions to health and pension plans amounting to several thousand dollars annually. That's a done deal. So be it!

The proposal marks a sad and ironic shift for Wisconsin, which in 1959 was the first State to pass a comprehensive collective bargaining law for public employees and was the birthplace in 1932 of Wisconsin State Employees/Council 24. This seed of a dream later grew to become today's AFSCME, The American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees, by far the largest national union representing all non-federal public employees.

A bit of honest personal disclosure now seems appropriate and important.

I've been on both sides of a picket line.

I was an elected Audit Man for NABET (National Association of Broadcast Employees and Technicians) Local 46 at WTAC in Flint during the '60's and was President and General Manager of that same facility, negotiating for station ownership against NABET in the late '70's. Mind you, this was in Flint, Michigan, home of the United Auto Workers and site of the historic 1936 Sit-down Strike at General Motors which brought forth an American middle class now endangered as never before.

I believe I learned three things in Flint:

(1) Unrestrained unionism yields anarchistic chaos.

(2) Unchecked management breeds aristocratic tyranny.

(3) Blessed is the balance.

Wisconsin is not alone in what any fair-minded individual should regard as thinly veiled, politically expedient union busting. Similar legislation against collective bargaining by governmental employees, including police and firefighters, is pending in Ohio, New Jersey, Indiana, Nevada and Tennessee.

In 1987, I was honored being asked by the UAW to narrate a live radio and TV broadcast of their 50th Anniversary Parade through the streets of Flint and produce a thirty minute "Fireworks Spectacular" on the banks of the Flint River in the heart of downtown, complete with lasers and a synchronized symphonic soundtrack. By then, I was the Executive Vice President and Chief Operating Officer of a seven station non-union group, but had always attempted to be enthusiastically participatory in all community events regardless of worker affiliation or lack thereof.

In preparing a formal ten-minute recorded introduction to the festivities, I visited UAW archives in Detroit and discovered a dusty old 78 rpm Gramophone disc from 1932, an old activist marching song which I wrote into the script.

On a hot summer night at dusk, through dozens of speakers with thousands of watts pumping into a hundred thousand Michigan ears — came chilling words from a not too distant past — and a title explaining this Cavanaugh's own powerful reluctance to join any union damning bandwagons of this moment or any other.

"No Irish Need Apply!"

I trust such sentiments referencing ANY national origin will forever remain properly abandoned on the trash heap of history, never to be resurrected by thuggish throwbacks to meaner streets and uglier days. Or that time-honored collective bargaining ever be cavalierly condemned by precocious newbie Governors looking for press.

Chapter Two -- "Rock 'n Roll"

1992 was the 100th Anniversary of my Great-Grandfather's death. He had left Ireland during The Famine Years in 1848 and had crossed the North Atlantic to the green fields of America. He was buried under a fine Celtic Cross in a little churchyard just north of Syracuse. His name is engraved in sharp and bold lettering, still clearly distinct with a century gone:

PETER CAVANAUGH

My namesake's handwriting appears in an old, worn book on Irish History that was passed down to me by my Uncle Vince. It was all Peter left us in memory.

Cavanaugh

Diocese of Fern

County of Leinster

Town of Ballyoughter

Irish Nobility

Evicted By The English

And Abandoned By God

I had left broadcasting after thirty-six uninterrupted years. I knew where to go. Eileen and I drove to Detroit and caught a flight to Dublin. We rented a car and traveled the land without itinerary or agenda. There was no need. There were spirits everywhere. We were led.

Peter is listed as the son of James and Margaret Cavanaugh, born in the summer of 1816 in Ballyoughter. The town has disappeared. It was located east of Enniscorthy, just south of Dublin in the Wicklow Mountains near the Irish Sea.

Peter was baptized July 15 of that year, according to parish records now miraculously preserved on microfilm at the Library of Ireland in Dublin. The fancy spelling of the family name "Kavanagh" with a "C" and a superfluous "u" can be attributed to the transcribing priest, who wrote in a most graceful and elegant hand. Before and after his stewardship of some thirty years, the whole bunch were illiterate "Kavanaghs", forbidden to learn reading and writing, own property, vote, practice their religion, hold public office, engage in trade or commerce or possess firearms.

The priest had faithfully noted births, marriages and deaths in the small community during his whole tenure. It is a ledger covered with invisible tears. There are five pages per year before "The Famine," and five years per page thereafter. Many in our family died of hunger. So did a million fellow countrymen during the time of the "Great Starvation" with yet another million emigrating on "Coffin Ships" bound for North America, Australia and New Zealand. Of these, an estimated one out of five died from disease.

Peter made it to America. He was unmarried and in his early thirties. He found an Irish bride in the States. Their son John, my Grandfather, was born in 1854. It was John's son, Donald, who died on the radio.

Our direct Cavanaugh (Kavanagh) line is traced to the middle of the Twelfth Century and one Donal Kavanagh, who had become very disenchanted with his father, Dermod Mac Murrough, King of Leinster.

Dermod was the Irish King who first "let in the English" to help extended his power and control over the entire island. He is described as: "No hero, but a large, lustful, blustering, hoarse-voiced man, whose name had an evil sound in the ears of the Irish. He was the bad son of a bad father, one who chose rather to be feared than loved". In honor of his friend, King Henry II of England, Dermod thought he'd take an English wife.

King MacMurrough wasn't much for courtship. He kidnapped "Chelsea of the Willows", a beautiful English noblewoman, and dragged her back to Ireland in chains. He married her and impregnation eventually followed. The lovely Chelsea wasn't a withering willow. She introduced further disrepute into the family picture by poisoning Dermod and burning him alive on their Wedding Anniversary. She torched him with a flaming log, revenge with phallic overtones. She told King Henry she was sorry and built an Abbey for penance. She was royalty. She cut a good deal.

Eileen and I walked the ruins of the Abbey at sunset. Only the crows cried welcome. Donal was born after Dermod's fiery demise. There was an image problem. Although the family name was later fully redeemed with great honor by Donal's son Art MacMurrough/Kavanaugh several generations down the road, with a traitor for a father and murderess-mom, Donal felt major disassociation would be highly appropriate and refused to be called a "Mac Murrough". He chose "Kavanagh" as a new surname in honor of his counselor and close friend "Cavan" (which curiously is historically spelled with a "C"), a prominent Irish priest and confessor. "Cavan" was eventually sainted by the Church.

Discussing "DNA" genetics and what have you, it is striking to note that Dermod and Chelsea's genes undoubtedly enjoyed constant and particular reinforcement in a most unique manner all the way through to "The Great Hunger" and Peter's passage to America. Ballyoughter was less than five miles away from Fern, the ancient Irish capital from which Dermod and his fierce warriors ruled and plundered. Our particular tribal branch, as verified by those parish records in Dublin, thus never seriously strayed away from home for over seven hundred years between Dermod's smoldering remains and Peter's farewell to the groves of shillelagh and shamrock. Dermod and Chelsea have just kept on sharing each other, all forgiven. It's never been otherwise.

Dermod and Chelsea had arrived late in the true Irish sense of things.

The village of Slane is forty-five miles northwest of Dublin. On its ancient castle grounds have played The Rolling Stones, Bruce Springstein, Bob Dylan and U-2. On the Hill of Slane, Saint Patrick proclaimed Ireland to be Christian in 433 A.D. by lighting a paschal fire. The burial chamber at Newgrange is on the banks of the River Boyne a few miles to the east. It is over five thousand years old.

The Newgrange chamber is a huge, circular, man-made mound of white and black boulders, largely covered with earth and grass. It measures two hundred and forty feet across and is forty-four feet high. An entrance overlooks a broad bend in the river. A narrow tunnel leads seventy feet down into the earth. Passage is slow. A central chamber contains three rooms, all openly facing into the center. Water has never penetrated into the surrounding rocks. Construction was by master architects. It was built for the ages. The spiral markings are everywhere. Their meaning is unclear.

A small opening over the entrance is aligned so that the sun's rays penetrate and illuminate the chamber with a fiery red glow only once each year at the exact point of the Winter Solstice. It is seen as a symbol of rebirth and renewal. The effect lasts less than twenty minutes.

Newgrange was not erected as a tomb. It is a womb.

It is two thousand years older than Stonehenge.

IT IS PERSPECTIVE.

Eileen and I spent some time in England and visited Stonehenge too. We went through the Tower of London and saw where Henry had his heads hacked and IRA men spent many long, last years. The British Museum was overwhelming. All the heroes were warriors and kings. There were spoils from many lands. We climbed to the top of Saint Paul's Cathedral and spent hours at Westminister Abbey. We went to Toussaud's "Rock Circus" on Pickadilly. All the rock stars are in wax. Eileen had her picture taken with Freddy Mercury. He'd been dead for months. There were "security alerts" on the London Underground all the time. We stayed at the Copthorne Tara in Kensington.

We returned to Perrysburg in late October.

There was no question as to my immediate intent. Ireland had shown the way. There was only one thing I would do for a year. Nothing.

My oldest daughter Laurie and her wonderful husband Paul presented us with our first grandchild on December 20th. Her name is Katherine Noelle Thome. I wrote her a letter on her first Saint Patrick's Day and told her all about Peter.

All of the daughters were home for Christmas '92 and Easter '93 in Perrysburg.

Over Labor Day Weekend, the whole family was assembled again in Syracuse, where we celebrated my mother Isabelle's 90th Birthday.

All my women were all home again for December 31st, but wouldn't let me or husbands/fiances/boyfriends watch "Howard Stern's Rotten New Year's Eve."

Other than the above, all I did for the entire year was perfect the art of effortless existence. It was lovely.

I'm quite rested.

I'm five thousand years younger than Newgrange.

I stayed in touch with Sister Cecilia from the old Cathedral days. An indication of her lasting influence came during a 25th year High School Reunion in 1984. It was the first time the Class of '59 had ever assembled since graduation. It had been then we boys were told to "never again darken the doors of the school" following a brief alcoholic misadventure.

Sister Cecilia had driven herself to Syracuse for the event from the "Mother House" in Maryland. It was evident that the passage of time had changed her only in small ways. I was delighted to discover for the first time that her last name was Connolly. Such things had not been shared in earlier times.

Also in attendance was Army Major Thomas Gibbons.

Tom had entered the service and qualified for special assignment. He had successfully completed officer training as a Green Beret. Tom had repeated several tours in Viet Nam and had volunteered for each and every one. He had flown helicopters as a combat pilot. He had commited his life to the military.

I saw him coming in the front entrance and greeted him with a hug. I excitedly told him Sister Cecilia was in the next room. Tom thought he could use a drink. After three double scotches, Tom moved into the staging area and greeted Sister. She hugged him too. In Viet Nam, the closely encountered enemy had been clearly unfeared. Sister Cecilia was something else.

Sister Cecilia had been most emphatic back in the Fifties that Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry, Little Richard, the Platters, the Diamonds, the Del Vikings, Bo Diddley, Duane Eddy, Georgia Gibbs, Jody Reynolds, Ronnie Hawkins, Fats Domino and the the rest of those "bold, brazen things" were "Occasions of Sin". She knew this to be true because Father Shannon told her so and he heard confession.

Sister Cecilia Connolly had lived in the convent next to Cathedral school with other Sisters of Charity. They were only allowed to watch Bishop Fulton J. Sheen on television. Collective exposure to the newly emerging world of visual communication had been thus limited to thirty minutes each Tuesday night at eight.

A brilliant woman, trusting with ferocious determination the tenets of her Church, Sister Cecilia saw nothing but dangerous rebellion in the new music of youth.

I chose to believe in Rock & Roll.

On the surface, this indigenously American music seems all about a completely uncomplicated, essentially ageless desire to "feel good".

It's a natural sort of thing.

It's like sex.

Looking at it from a purely mechanical perspective, sex seems silly. It's ecstasy by embarassment. What a contradiction. We fulfill the most important obligation demanded by Natural Order and are rewarded handsomely for following our instinctive inclinations. Only in unqualified surrender do we gain ultimate pleasure. Should we not yield, future existence ends.

So might the enjoyment of certain sounds emerging in particular patterns featuring specific combinations of varying frequencies at subjectively pleasant amplitude offer suspect satisfaction, but only to the physiologically uninitiated. Not if it's in the blood!

It has been my experience that Rock & Roll Music and personal liberty are inseparable. Those who oppose one will invariably oppose both.

I also find that many of us who would purport to cherish individual freedom actually find it a terrifying notion. Seen God lately? Feel that fright? Get what I mean?

The majority of our species want others in charge. That's not by chance. It's in the program.

Letting someone else do the important thinking is much more than intellectual torpor. Such abrogation is in the flesh, another manifestation of inherent genetic predisposition. It is a critical legacy. Upon it, human survival depends.

We can't all lead. Most must follow.

Too many directions bring confusion and anarchy. Or regicide and separation. Or foreign domination.

And famine.

We all must both lead and follow with measured balance within respective spirals. We individually learn our destined path. None is better or worse. But only that which is truly yours is best.

There are some destined to utter grace.

They are the ones who listen to the music.

And hear.

Some even play.

They seek to give us faith.

They would assure that we are not alone.

The Beatles had it right.

"Life flows on within us. And without us."

"Tomorrow Never Knows"

Because?

It never is?

Perhaps there is no past or future. Consider there is only presence. Imagine we are masters of illusion. Pretend we are magic. Envision we are locked in eternal embrace.

If everything is now?

Then Kurt Vonnegut was correct.

"All Music is Sacred

Chapter Three -- "The Fields Of Athenry"

The Irish greeted Saint Patrick's message in 433 A.D. with open minds and happy hearts. It is Celtic to the core, imagination yielding to exaggeration in elegant elaboration. So, too, is the legend of St. Patrick observed here in America — with wild celebration and exuberant joy. In Ireland it's a "Holy Day of Obligation." You're supposed to be in church.

St. Patrick's Day 2011 found me in a reflective, more darkly Irish mood.

"By a lonely prison wall I heard a young girl calling. Michael, they are taking you away. For you stole the English corn so our young might see the morn. Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay."

"The Fields of Athenry" is an Irish folk ballad set during the Great Irish Potato Famine (1845-1850) about a fictional man named Michael from near Athenry in County Galway — sentenced to transportation to Botany Bay, Australia, for stealing food for his starving family.

"By a lonely prison wall I heard a young man calling. Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free. Against the Famine and the Crown I rebelled. They ran me down . Now you must raise our child with dignity."

Let the record be clear. At no point during the length of the "Famine" period did Ireland fail to grow plentiful crops — enough to feed the entire native population of the island twice over. But "Free Market" thinking carried the day. Such bountiful harvests were sent to England and Europe to enrich the treasuries of non-Irish Lords, Ladies and Landowners who lived far across the Irish Sea, owning and controlling over 95% of the Emerald Isle following 800 years of tyrannical, often brutal rule over Britain's first and last colony.

The rich and powerful have been triumphant over the poor and weak century after century in our extended human experience. Governance in a democratic fashion is still new and fragile in the history of our species.

Could a time ever come when the wealthiest one percent of American households might represent 190 times the economic worth of an average person? Or witness that top one percent more than doubling their share of America's income in a single generation while the bottom 90% fell? Or realize fifty percent of Americans now own only one-half of one percent of America's stocks and bonds?

Such time has come today.

"By a lonely harbor wall she watched the last star falling as that prison ship sailed out against the sky. Sure she'll wait and hope and pray for her love in Botany Bay – It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry. "

Chapter Four -- There Went The Neighborhood!

So there we were in Cincinnati for the 2009 Christmas Holiday Season, when what before my wondrous eyes should appear but some remarkable research by daughter, Colleen, which reveals something of which I was completely unaware.

Quoting from just a tiny section of multi-page documentation:

"Hezekiah Newcomb married Jerusha Bradford on November 14, 1716. Jerusha was the great-granddaughter of William Bradford, who arrived on the Mayflower in 1620, and who was Governor of the Plymouth Colony for many years."

Basically, everything is tracked without break from the point to Mabel (Newcomb) MacClasky, "Mother of Kathryn (1902), Isabel (1903), Jennie (1907), Isaac Dennison (1909) and Wilma Newcomb MacClasky (1912)."

Isabel (1903) was my Mother, Isabel M. Cavanaugh, headed for Heaven in 1998 in her 95th year of life, finally joining her husband, Donald Cavanaugh, after a full half-century of widowhood. "This is the longest time he's been away", said Mom, just weeks before their reunion.

The transcript Isabel's granddaughter, Colleen, provided is utterly fascinating.

It includes all sorts of curious notations, including a four year-old falling into boiling soap (unpleasant consequences), a father acquitted of killing his son (details unprovided), and piracy at sea, courtesy of one Thomas Newcomb, cited as a "Soldier of the Revolution", drafted into the American Army under George Washington on 23 August, 1777, at the age of 16.

There are fishermen, farmers, soldiers, merchants, surveyors, constables, judges, tanners, tavern owners, ministers, blacksmiths and wagon makers strewn throughout the pages of our ancestry. We are told of babies by the dozen, "troublesome Indians" by the score and at least one extramarital affair, balanced quite nicely by sworn testimony that old Hezekiah Newcomb (1693-1772)) led a "virtuous, pious and truly exemplary life" and "was almost never seen without a Bible in his hands."

Thus I find myself tracked back to the Mayflower.

But that's no big deal.

There are millions of Mayflower descendants living today, but very few are actually aware of such seemingly unique distinction.

Among notable proven Mayflower offspring are Presidents John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Zachary Taylor, Ulysses S. Grant, James A. Garfield, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, George H. Bush and George W. Bush. Then we have such famous figures as Marilyn Monroe (pun intended), Astronaut Alan B. Shepard, Orson Welles, Noah Webster, Clint Eastwood, Alec Baldwin, Dick Van Dyke, Richard Gere, Christopher Lloyd, Bing Crosby, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Hugh Hefner and Cokie Roberts.

Traceable to the Mayflower or not and surely inclusive of the Wampanoag and other native Americans who never issued engraved invitations to dock up and drop by in the first place, we all share a common past as we proceed together into an uncertain future.

"Relatives" are not only those with whom we will gather at a bountiful harvest table every Thanksgiving Day. For each seen and known, hundreds more are hidden from us by the impenetrable mist of forgotten bygone days — aging children– one and all.

Let's jointly reflect upon our collective history — being thankful for and responsible to — each other.

Chapter Five -- "Manic Depression"

A Peter C. Rock & Roll Presentation

"Music, sweet music -- I wish I could caress, caress, caress– Manic depression is a frustrating mess."

Jimi Hendrix–"Manic Depression" from "Are You Experienced?" (1967)

I am a diagnosed Manic Depressive with the papers to prove it.

Other Depressives include Catherine Zeta-Jones, Ann-Margaret, Alexander the Great,  Hans Christian Anderson, Drew Barrymore, Beethoven (the Composer), Irving Berlin, Napoleon, Marlon Brando, Tim Burton, Truman Capote, Drew Carey, Jim Carrey, Ray Charles, Chopin (the Composer), Winston Churchill, Eric Clapton, Dick Clark, Kurt Cobain,  Francis Ford Coppola, Sheryl Crow, Rodney Dangerfield and Charles Darwin.

Then we have Queen Elizabeth I, William Faulkner, Carrie Fisher, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Larry Flynt, Harrison Ford, Steven Foster, Sigmund Freud, Peter Gabriel, Alexander Hamilton, Handel (the Composer), Steven Hawking, Ernest Hemmingway, Jimi Hendrix, Sir Anthony Hopkins, Howard Hughes, Andrew Jackson, Thomas Jefferson, Joan of Arc, Elton John, Ashley Judd, Robert E. Lee, John Lennon, Abraham Lincoln, Courtney Love, Martin Luther, Herman Melville, Michelangelo,Joni Mitchell, Marilyn Monroe, Alanis Morissette, J.P.Morgan and Benito Mussolini.

Let alone Sir Isaac Newton, Florence Nightingale, Deborah Norville, Sinead O'Connor, Eugene O'Neill, Laurence Olivier, Ozzie Osbourne,Dolly Parton, George Patton, Edgar Allen Poe, Cole Porter, Charlie Pride, Lou Reed, Theodore Roosevelt, Axl Rose, Yves Saint Laurent,Charles Schulz, Paul Simon, Phil Spector, George Stephanopolis, Robert Louis Stevenson and Sting.

Without overlooking Tchaikovsky (the Composer), Alfred Lord Tennyson, Dylan Thomas, Spencer Tracy, Ted Turner, Mark Twain,Mike Tyson, Kurt Vonnegut, Mike Wallace, Robin Williams, Brian Wilson, Boris Yeltsin and St. Francis of Assisi

Sounds like a party to me.

One hell of a party.

The hot new name for Manic Depression is Bipolar Disorder. It's a chemical imbalance. All in your head with DNA code.

There's a huge variation in types with various degrees of challenge. I'm told I have Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder. Type Two. Discovering this was quite a relief. I thought I was just a drunk.

I've tried Zoloft, Effexor,  Paxil,  Wellbutrin, Lamictal, Topamax, Lithium,Lexapro and Celexa. Right now, plain old Prozac seems to work best.

Only because marijuana remains outlaw.

A mystery.

Especially since the American Declaration of Independence (July 4, 1776) was drafted on marijuana paper.

No lie!

There's one thing certain about Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder.

You ride the monkey or the monkey rides you.

Chapter Six \-- "MR. BLUTARSKY? -- ZERO POINT ZERO!"

Think -- "National Lampoon's Animal House."

Leadership means you do what I say!

Dean Vernon Wormer ran the meeting.

Proposition 19, also known as the Regulate, Control and Tax Cannabis Act of 2010, is a California ballot proposition which is on the upcoming November 2, 2010 California statewide ballot as an initiated state statute.

Proposition 19, if approved by voters, will legalize various marijuana-related activities, allow local governments to regulate these activities, permit local governments to impose and collect marijuana-related fees and taxes, and authorize various criminal and civil penalties.

Medical marijuana is already legal in California, due to the enactment of Proposition 215 in 1996. That was 14 full years ago. Word seems to be just reaching us here in the hills.

Before continuing, I confess that this column is passionately subjective in nature. Please know that I personally participated in public protest at a meeting covered elsewhere in this edition, and understand that I consider the behavior of Madera County's Planning Commission Chairman at this gathering to be that of a common school yard bully.

By way of brief background, allow me to share a letter that I wrote last September to the Madera County Board of Supervisors:

September 25, 2009

Madera County Board of Supervisors

200 West 4th Street

Madera, California 93637

Gentlemen:

As a resident of Madera County, I request reconsideration be given to the ban on Medical Marijuana Dispensaries you enacted by unanimous vote September 22, 2009.

I've been smoking marijuana for more than fifty years, though not continuously. Sometimes I sleep.

I am the father of four and grandfather of eleven, having been happily married to the same woman for 45 years.

I enjoyed high (no pun intended) (well, maybe) executive positions for decades in my chosen profession.

All eight of my daughters and sons-in-law are successful entrepreneurs, exceptional parents and staunch Republicans, deeply involved in their churches and communities.

The Sheriff's comments on medicinal marijuana seem embarrassingly provincial.

For example, his assertion that "cities with marijuana dispensaries saw an increase in crime" begs for independent verification.

The county counsel's finding that "marijuana dispensaries would negatively impact the health, safety, and welfare of the community" is simply silly.

For more than twenty years, Dutch citizens over age eighteen have been permitted to buy and use cannabis in government-regulated coffee shops. Even this non-medicinal policy has not resulted in escalating consumption. Rates of marijuana use in the Netherlands are far lower than those in the United States and rank average when compared to other European countries.

Setting aside recreational use, the proven medicinal benefits of marijuana are now far past mere anecdotal testimony.

One might as well condemn aspirin as a work of the devil.

I urge recision of your September 22nd decision.

With best wishes,

Peter Cavanaugh

Oakhurst, California

The Supervisors had been informed in a letter from area ministers that certain parties were going to set up "Marijuana Dispensers" in Oakhurst ---confusing the word with "Dispensary" -- inferring that local children would soon be able drop a quarter in a joint box and one would roll right out. Armed with such inspired data and similar tripe, the Supervisors took their vote. I never received official response to my letter, but things seemed pretty mellow for months until I learned in The Star of a public meeting in Coarsegold scheduled for August 3rd. The headline read, "Planners Revisit Pot Shop Ruling."

Here's my own headline sent to Star Editor Brian Wilkinson the morning after:

"Planners Revisit Pot Shop Ruling - - No Vote Taken - - Sheriff Called."

I went on to suggest that it might be instructive to contact Steven and Rita Smith, who were petitioning for a temporary use permit, or County Supervisors and/or Planning Commission Chairman Larry Wright for appropriate comments.

I had entered the Coarsegold Community Center as a total stranger, not knowing a single soul in a room soon to reach standing room only status.

More than a dozen attendees offered sworn testimony supporting the medical collective with NO OPPOSITION expressed by ANYONE in the wall-to-wall crowd, even when repeatedly prompted to do so. The "hearing", by then hopping hopelessly like the Kangaroo Court it was, ended tumultuously when Wright rose from his seat on the dais and approached Mrs. Smith in a menacing manner, ordering her to immediately leave the building.

When members of the audience responded to Wright's conduct with significant negativity and I stood and challenged the Chairman, pointing out that he was "no gentleman", Wright demanded the entire room be cleared and threatened to call the Sheriff, moments later doing so as the crowd and I refused to move. Within minutes, a CHP unit and three Madera County Sheriff's cruisers pulled up, complete with a canine unit to sniff out the snafu. But the doggie had nothing to do, nor did any of the summoned officers, other than ponder why on earth someone had panicked. It was quiet as a mouse on cotton.

Mrs. Smith, a devout Christian whose deep faith plays an open and prominent role in her activities, remains shocked and shaken. She wants to move cannabis from the Devil's darkness into the light of the Lord that it be cleansed and controlled. Those are my words, not Mrs. Smith's. She would say it much better.

I trust the Madera County Board of Supervisors will review the sad episode herein recounted and realize issues yet unresolved need to be fully and fairly addressed in open forum. It will also be beneficial for them to inform the Planning Commission that they need to listen to their boss -- the people -- rather than be listened to.

Chairman Wright?

As far as I'm concerned -- he's on Quadruple-Secret Double Probation

Chapter Seven -- "A Sandman Sleeps"

My first plane ride headed straight for "American Bandstand."

I was working mornings on WNDR in Syracuse in November of 1961 when the station ran a wild promotion to transport two busloads of lucky teen listeners 250 miles down I-81 to WFIL-TV in Philadelphia for a live appearance with Dick Clark.

Since my air shift precluded a departure with the buses, the station decided it was worth the staggering sum of 24 dollars to fly me down on a Mohawk Airlines Douglas DC-3 to rendezvous with all at the TV station.

Syracuse connections with young Mr. Clark ran back quite some time even then, including the years he played Country & Western tunes on WOLF's "Buckaroo Sandman Show" while a student at Syracuse University's Newhouse School of Communications.

Dick's family owned and operated WRUN-AM in nearby Utica, where he also paid early dues. Upon graduating from college, Clark obtained his first major market position in Philadelphia when he was hired in 1952 as a weekend weatherman and booth announcer on Channel 6. He was low man on the WFIL totem pole when Bob Horn got picked up for driving drunk.

Since Horn was hosting a show for young people called, "Philadelphia Bandstand" on WFIL — underage girls accompanying him at the time of arrest and other salacious allegations brought forth a local scandal of epic proportions, The charges instantly cost Horn his job at the station in July of 1956 and created a heart-stopping crisis for "Philadelphia Bandstand" Producer, Lew Klein. The situation required big time damage control for television, where image was everything. This was in the Eisenhower '50's — when Elvis could only appear on television from the waist up, when you couldn't say, "pregnant" on the radio, and when "the boys and girls" at Cathedral Academy during my Senior Year were separated by an empty row of desks to avoid "unnecessary temptations."

Wait! Where's that clean-cut kid from the newsroom? The one the sales staff loves 'cause he works his tail off doing great commercials for local clients? That guy who can memorize a five-minute pitch and perform it flawlessly with hardly any preparation at all?

Dick Clark was instantly assigned hosting duties on "Philadelphia Bandstand" as a temporary measure. After a few weeks, it became permanent. A year later, in August of 1957, "Philadelphia Bandstand" went national and became "American Bandstand" on the then fledgling ABC Television Network for a full 90 minutes every weekday afternoon from 4 till 5:30.

That initial trip to WFIL-TV and "Bandstand", to be repeated several times annually until the program moved to Los Angeles in early '64, was an eye-opener. Most impressive, in addition to Dick Clark's awesomely smooth, pitch perfect, on screen presence – was the absolute control he exercised over every aspect of the telecast. As I mentioned to Ray Appleton last Thursday on KMJ during Ray's excellent tribute program in Clark's memory, "Dick even watched out for the little things. I remember a large, matronly women with a commanding presence walking through this large crowd of teens moments before broadcast with a large coffee can — into which she demanded they all deposit their gum since, "Mr. Clark doesn't want any of you chewing away coast to coast." Cooperation was instantaneous."

"The Dick Clark Cavalcade of Stars" visited Syracuse quite often. The "Cavalcade" consisted of a dozen or so recording artists who were driven up from Philadelphia to appear with us at the State Fair Coliseum. WNDR DJ's would introduce Dick. He would then bring on the performers, who would "lip-sync" their hit records. This meant having the artists "sing" over recorded music. We'd have a local group or two on stage just to fill up space and pretend to play along. They were usually unplugged, but looked fabulously engaged. After most shows, a few of us would have dinner with Dick, who was as down to earth and engaging off air as he was on. Although most known by the public as a performer, Dick Clark ultimately was the consummate entrepreneur.

It is staggering to realize how much this one man accomplished in his lifetime. The list seems endless. "$10,000 Pyramid," "The American Music Awards," "TV Bloopers and Practical Jokes", "Where The Action Is," "Dick Clark's World of Talent," "The Dick Clark National Music Survey" and, of course, "Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve." At one point, Dick Clark had successful television programs running simultaneously on all three major TV networks, even as "Dick Clark Productions" staged hundreds of major concert events across the country in the '60's, '70's, 80's and 90's.

Dick and I would see each other at dozens of "Radio Conventions" through the years and reminisce. However, although most distant in time, "American Bandstand" still seems nearest and dearest of all my Dick Clark memories.

As 70 million "baby boomers" stormed the gates of American culture, forever changing everything — Dick Clark waved us along — encouraging us to dance all the way through.

Perhaps that's why I'm so sad he's gone.

Chapter Eight -- "Let's Go to the Hop!"

"Well, you can rock it — you can roll it. You can slop and you can stroll it at the hop!"

"At The Hop" — Danny & The Juniors (1957) ABC/Paramount Records

1957 was a magical year.

It saw the ultimate emergence of an new American music form called "Rock & Roll" and witnessed "The Little Church on the Hill", established in 1894, move from Chapel Hill off Road 425B to Oakhill Cemetery on Highway 41 in Oakhurst. It also saw 16 year-old Peter Cavanaugh make what can only be described as a horrifyingly inauspicious radio debut over WNDR in Syracuse, New York.

These completely separate events are about to marvelously converge more than a full half century later for a most worthy cause.

WNDR had rocketed to the top of Central New York ratings in a triumph marking the very birth of the Rock Era. It advanced in a vacuum more than partially enhanced by traditional radio professionals shunning any aspect of the new phenomenon, a fusion of grass roots "Country and Western" and black-based "Rhythm and Blues." I and other young enthusiasts were more than willing to step forward and grab the controls. We didn't have to wait for anyone to get out of our way. They weren't even there to begin with. Who would have thought?

My professional career started one April after riding my bike out to WNDR, which had moved to a swampy area just outside town where the towers were located. Every spring there was a flood, so the last fifty feet were by boat. I was answering phones on weekends for fifty cents an hour, a position obtained after many uninvited visits just "hangin' around".

My first efforts at WNDR were extended to include writing early morning news. I eventually cajoled my way into doing a few trial newscasts and then a regular weekend news schedule. But genuine "coolness" could only be found behind studio turntables. We kids had quickly come to worship the few who played that "Rock & Roll" on Syracuse stations. After mounting a relentless, non-stop campaign, management finally acquiesced. It was determined that I be allowed a one-hour live on-air audition at Midnight the following Sunday, when the station would normally sign-off for maintenance.

I wrote down every single word I would say, practiced each record introduction hundreds of times, sat in the control room hours on end watching all the moves made and memorized dozens of different "one-liners" to use if I needed, Lord forbid, to "ad-lib". The adrenaline hit as soon as I sat down in the chair. I went to open the microphone channel and my humble hand brushed against a "master-off" switch directly beneath the intended target, promptly plunging WNDR into twenty minutes of stone silence. The engineer on duty, fairly new to the business himself, took that long to determine the extent of my stupidity. After my "first hour" was finished, I assumed I was as well, the premiere performance also my last. But by an astonishing stroke of fate, no one important heard my curious initiation. I was on my way to fame and fortune such as might come my way.

Next weekend, on Saturday, April 28th, a 1950s Sock Hop will be held at Evergreen Conference Center, 43803 Highway 41 in Oakhurst, with all proceeds going to The Little Church Foundation. I have been honored being asked to "DJ" the event and have already visited the venue and reviewed all technical logistics with Jackie Mallouf to insure uninterrupted fun and frolic.

The evening will begin with wine and appetizers at 6 p.m. followed by dinner at 7 p.m. and dancing, contests and drawings from 8-10 p.m.

Tickets cost $20 in advance or $25 at the door. They are available at these Coarsegold businesses -- Steve's Tropical Fish and Mountain Feed & Nursery, and, in Oakhurst, Dorsey's Hallmark and Willow Bridge Books.

I'll be spinning the tunes primarily from the '50's and early '60's with as many old favorites as we can squeeze in and, of course, taking requests and dedications as in the old days. If there's something specific you want to hear that night, drop me a note at ledzep2001@aol.com sometime over these next few days so I can make sure I bring it along. That's what smooth DJ's do!

"Well, you can swing it you can groove it. You can really start to move it at the hop. Where the jockey is the smoothest and the music is the coolest at the hop! All the cats and chicks can get their kicks at the hop.

Let's go!"

Chapter Nine -- "Michael Moore"

October 9, 2009

Michael Moore's "Capitalism: A Love Story" is on track to be one of the top 5 grossing documentaries of all time.

I've known Mike for more than three decades.

I am particularly proud of Michael and his new film.

Far more than dollar signs, my enthusiasm over initial box office figures is driven by this major indication that a very important message is getting out. Names have not been changed. There are no innocents.

Peter Cavanaugh & Michael Moore -- Flint, Michigan (1985)

WWCK had just become the highest-rated Rock station in America.

Michael Moore \--2002

In the 40th Anniversary Edition of Rolling Stone Magazine, Michael elaborated:

"I wouldn't have been able to do what I've done if I hadn't grown-up in an area that had such a vibrant and rebellious political and cultural scene. The music was so integrated into your experience as a teenager. Everyone knows about Woodstock, but we had our own mini-Woodstock every Wednesday, every summer, just outside Flint. It was called Wild Wednesday. It was in a field with a big pond, and it was the first place that people saw so many of these groups, like MC5, Iggy, Seger. We'd literally be there every Wednesday from Noon to Midnight. Thousands would show up. And out of that grew the protests. You'd have a group of high school students planning a walkout. Maybe it was just over how lousy the food was at the lunch counter at school. It wasn't like, "Here's the political thing." It was all woven together in the same sort of rebellious, rock & roll attitude. When you said Rock & Roll, it wasn't just the music. You meant it as a way of life, as a coat of armor against everything that was coming at you. It was a force to be reckoned with. In my mind, there would be no "Roger & Me", no "Fahrenheit 9/11″ if I had not been one of thousands participating in that moment. And the millions who go to Fahrenheit carry that with them as well. They were there at Wild Wednesday too."

You can see a drawing of Mike on my website, wildwednesday.com, under "Contact". He's at the very bottom, holding up all the rest. Michael's like that turtle of ancient Onondaga Indian lore carrying all of the earth on his back – "This Place" on a shell. Underneath, I've written:

"Moore is a Well-Behaved Young Man Who Plays Nicely With Fellow Concert-Goers" –J. Edgar Hoover (1970)

That's something I made up, just as the Onondagas did that Turtle. Even at 16, Michael Moore would never waste any time with J. Edgar Hoover.

Hoover was homosexual, cross-dressing head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation just about forever (1924 to 1972) and, speaking of head, lived on the closest of terms with Assistant Director, Clyde Tolson, both of them constantly on guard against gays in the Bureau. When Hoover died, Tolson inherited everything and moved into Hoover's house. J. Edgar hated Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King and John Lennon."

Chapter Ten -- "Doctor Katherine"

"Doctor Katherine" and Grandfather Peter -- (March -- 1993)

I had never undergone a Caesarean Section and was filled with fear.

This was also Dr. Katherine's debut performing the procedure, yet she applied herself to the task with a certain quiet dignity and a superb degree of reassuring self-confidence remarkable for a two year old.

Measuring my blood pressure, heart-rate and pulse beat with polished professionalism, she whispered, scalpel firmly in hand, that she was about to make a "little cut", but I wouldn't "really feel a thing."

I didn't.

Then she quickly moved with dexterous charm, finally wrapping our newborn with tender care, placing him softly in my arms with gentle admonition to be "very careful", since he was "all brand new."

Everything had taken place in less than a minute.

The terror continued unrestrained.

How could a phone remain so utterly unrung?

My loving wife Eileen had given birth to four daughters, each one more beautiful than the other three. It had all seemed quite automatic. Paternal concern had focused on fulfilling established responsibilities of the '60's era, essentially limited to timely transport.

Laurie was our first.

Doctor Katherine was Laurie's first.

When Katherine had been born three years earlier at Toledo Hospital, I hadn't slept, not eaten, nor taken serious drink for near three solid days. For an Irishman given to a taste for "the Holy Water", this last denial definitively marked a power state of soul-shattering suspense. I recall sad bemusement reflecting upon the word "unbearable", since it was daughter Laurie giving birth, rather than her hapless, hopeless, helpless father; he who could not "push", "shove" or "breathe deeply" in hastening the advent of life's most wondrous miracle.

Laurie had prepared Doctor Katherine for this new event with thoughtful care and persuasive conviction. A baby brother, Katherine's first sibling, would be delivered in the same manner as had she. There would be no problems and should be no unfounded concerns. Daddy and Mommy would drive to the hospital. Grandparents Poppa and Bitsy would wait at home with Katherine for the good news to arrive in no time at all.

Katherine had her very own "Doctor's Kit", rather like the one Mommy's actual Doctor would use. With her tiny tools, Katherine patiently plied and perfected her practice on Poppa. All told, I was happily delivered of eighteen separate children well before lunch.

Having spent thirty odd years, literally and figuratively, in Rock & Roll Radio, I had been amazed when Mick Jagger became a grandfather. He seemed far, far too young for such a terribly old thing. A few years later, I found myself taking no small measure of solace that "Mick had gone first," reminding myself that having a grandchild no longer conjured forth images of wizened, white-bearded ancients sporting plaid flannel shirts and baggy-bottomed trousers with two eyes toward Heaven and one foot in the grave, their "rocking" pathetically confined to chairs.

Our oldest daughter again delivering a child? Why, I had only weeks past walked her to school for introduction to kindergarten, becoming a heartbroken father when there was tearful insistence on entering the building alone. It couldn't be more than hours since Laurie had spoken at her graduation from Carman High School in Flint; minutes since she obtained her Masters Degree in Psychology at Bowling Green, and wasn't it merely a blink ago I proudly walked her down the aisle to marry Paul in Perrysburg?

Just as bodies falling in space increase velocity at exactly thirty-two feet per second, I have become convinced that time itself accelerates with similar immutability as our minds travel through the years.

Laurie had been hospitalized in heavy labor for several days prior to Katherine's eventual, somewhat tardy emergence. Now, both moment and method had been happily determined well in advance.

Still.

The phone?

Mommy had been scheduled for an early morning procedure.

It was now 3:15 in the afternoon.

Hmmmm.

We surely would have heard if there were any complications. Paul is certainly an extraordinarily responsible young man and I didn't want to call the hospital and intrude with my own selfish misery, but maybe I could pretend to be someone else making inquiry, say a next door neighbor named, "Harry." "Harry Phillips." That's good. No. Never. A man wouldn't call.

Harriet Phillips? Perfect! I would talk in a high-pitch without sounding too much like Hillary Clinton – sort of like that "leprechaun voice" I used on radio commercials for Saint Patrick's Day, but without the fake Irish accent.

"Hello?"

"Helllloooooooo?"

Maybe I can—-

RING! ——-RIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGG!!!!!"

We had determined it proper that Doctor Katherine, Herself, take the call.

"Hello!" Daddy! She did? He does? Here's Poppa!"

Weighing ten pounds and seven ounces with a length of twenty-two inches, Cooper Thome had been delivered with maximum ease and minimal discomfort. Husband Paul had remained stationed in the recovery room before calling, wishing to remain constantly close and consoling, waiting for restful sleep to enfold before taking even the briefest absence from Laurie's side. He knew we would understand. We did. And were grateful.

But it will be hard for Paul to remember this when it's Doctor Katherine's turn.

"Doctor Katherine" and Fiance

Autumn 2012

December 20, 2008

Dear Katherine,

Well, here we are!

Your 16th Birthday!

Unbelievable.

Especially when you have such young Grandparents!

Although a 16th Birthday is extra-spectacular, no one in the world seems to know exactly why.

I just googled it.

I've decided on my own that being 16 means (a) you're no longer just a teenager, but (b) you're still not quite an adult.

So "Happy Just Not Quite!"

When I was "Just Not Quite", it was 1957, almost two years to the day after James Dean died.

In just three films, he personified an attitude that became "Rock 'n Roll."

"East of Eden" –(1955) "Rebel Without a Cause" — (1955)—and "Giant"—(1956)

Thirty years ago, I recorded a "WTAC Editorial of the Air" for use over Memorial Day Weekend of 1978. It combined a tribute to James Dean by David Essex called "Rock On" with key clips from each of Dean's motion pictures. At the time, I sent a copy to my friend Dave Marsh, by then an Editor with Rolling Stone Magazine. He sent me a lovely note back.

Last Sunday, I was on Dave's "Kick Out The Jams" show on Satellite Radio when he surprised me by playing the old WTAC Editorial coast-to-coast with all sorts of kind comments. That was very cool. Dave's wife manages Bruce Springsteen.

I've decided this might be something special for your "Just Not Quite" Day.

As you decide where do we go from here.

And which is the way that's clear.

Love, Hugs, Kisses and Cake,

Your Loving Grandfather,

Poppa

Chapter Eleven -- "His Excellency Lord Cavanaugh"

Family records indicate the subject of the following newspaper story was quite possibly the original "Peter Cavanaugh" (my Great-Grandfather,) who was known to head 20 miles south from Fulton to the fair city of Syracuse, where he would spend much time and treasure indulging in various pleasurable pursuits while consuming copious quantities of "The Holy Water.

And telling tales.

I am passionately persuaded this was my most recent incarnation.

From The New York Times–September 12, 1884

Chapter Twelve -- "Comcast? CONcast!

GE, Comcast agree on NBC Universal Valuation:

Mon Nov 9, 2009 12:35am EST

Comcast Close to Gaining Control of NBC Universal

NEW YORK (Reuters) – General Electric Co. and Comcast Corp have agreed on a valuation of around $30 billion for a joint venture between NBC Universal and Comcast, ironing out what has been a key obstacle in talks so far, a source familiar with the matter said on Sunday.

The resolution of that issue brings the parties one step closer to an agreement.

The two sides have been in talks to reach a deal that would give Comcast a 51-percent stake in the NBC Universal venture.

GE, which owns 80 percent of NBC Universal, declined comment, as did Comcast. Vivendi was not immediately available for comment.

But I am.

Beware.

The following is from "Uncertainties of Life", a project in progress.

Sections of "Uncertainties" are available in digital format at:  http://petercavanaugh.wordpress.com/2009/02/21/bye-polar

Rock & Roll never forgets.

I no longer smoke tobacco. After two and a-half packs a day for forty years, I stopped while living in Youngstown when I almost stopped living in Youngstown. It was a Saturday night. Something felt catchy in the middle of my chest. I had an Irish anesthesiologist. I thoroughly enjoyed the quadruple bypass, but recovery was a bitch. Please allow me to introduce my wife.

Eileen and I have been an item for fifty-five years.

We had moved to Youngstown in early 1998, right after we helped the Toledo Irish-American Club join with the Lucas County Ancient Order of Hibernians to bring in The Wolftones – Ireland's biggest rebel group. It was wall to wall.

Youngstown is Flint without the glamor, sparkle or je nais se twat. Niagara without Falls. World without end.

Youngstown pumps water from Meander Reservoir. Locally it's often said that's where old gangsters dumped their dead. While we were there, the water was a peculiar, dusky color and tasted like watermelon. City fathers swore it was algae. There's little consolation in consolidation. It was the early days. Gocom Communications had purchased WKBN-TV, the big CBS Television affiliate, and wanted to add five radio stations to Youngstown holdings.

Their bank made a multi-million dollar loan conditioned on my involvement as Vice President/General Manager. Necessitated by circumstance, I ran WBBG/WRTK/WICT/WWSY/WPAO through the end of the year, faithfully executing dozens more upon the altar of corporate efficiency. Thinning the herd. But financial fantasies failed for the television group. Bankers bailed. I was ballast – terminated for Christmas. A blessing. Eileen and I headed back to the scene of many original crimes.

Downtown Clarkston -- Rush Hour

Clarkston, Michigan, is between Flint and Detroit on I-75. Crossing north from Oakland to Genesee County transposes worlds. Per capita, Oakland was one of the wealthiest counties in the country – an enormous whitecap on the wave of fugitive flight from black Detroit. 13.1% of Genesee County residents lived below the poverty line, more than double that of Oakland, where folks earned more than half again as much as their northern neighbors. Of course, things are much, much, much worse now. Comcast Communications, the most powerful cable company in the world, established its first large system in Genesee County – in the City of Flint. Brian Roberts, Comcast President, Chairman of the Board and Son of the Father (as was Jesus), spent his apprenticeship In Flint chasing goals, digging holes and climbing poles.

Brian was born June 28, 1959, the day I finished High School. His dad, Ralph, was Comcast's Founder.

After I joined the company as Advertising Sales Manager in Flint, I was in Philadelphia for a meeting with Ralph in early 2001. At 81, he spoke for almost an hour. He was terrific. When he asked for questions, I inquired as to what single characteristic he'd identified as being held in common among the most successful people he'd encountered on his climb to the heights. There was no hesitation. "Enthusiasm", he proclaimed. "Do you agree?" "Undoubtedly! Absolutely! Positively!", I trilled. Everyone chuckled.

So I was enthusiastic in driving total Flint Revenues up 42% from 2001 to 2002, adding over a million bucks to the bottom line and watching our office dominate the Midwest. I was even more enthusiastic suing the company for millions of dollars after my compensation was cut in half without prior warning or notice. With mid-management mired in mediocrity, Age has no place at Comcast unless your boy is the boss. Comcast treats seniority as Eskimos once did their elders, leaving them on ice for the polar bears.

Never mind fabricated evidence, persistent perjury and amiable amnesia. The HR lady chewed gum during her entire deposition. Accountants are in charge – prediction taking precedence over production. Dreary drones enjoy unlimited resources. This virtually guarantees turning Comcast into a union organized, government regulated public utility not that terribly far down the road. Such will cut your monthly cable bill in half, even though that probably won't matter by then.

Chapter Thirteen -- "I Follow This Sign"

Chapter Fourteen \-- "Flint to Flint to Flint!"

Our "Flint to Flint to Flint" promotion on WWCK-FM in 1982 was singular in impact.

Flint newspaper and television coverage for WWCK was continuous during the entire duration.

The eventual ratings of a 14.3% total audience share during the "Trip to Flint" period was not only the best in the history of the station, but the highest measurement by market share of any Album Rock station in the country in the Fall of '82.

WWCK was subsequently voted "Album Rock Station of the Year" by Burkhart/Abrams and Billboard Magazine.

The "Trip to Flint" campaign won not only a "Gold First Place Addy" from the Flint Area Advertising Federation, but was determined by the judges to be "Best of Show", beating not only other local media efforts in all categories of entry, but also national Buick Motor Division advertising with multi-million dollar budgets submitted by agency giant McCann Erickson.

Thanks to Jeff Lamb, a.k.a. "Buffalo Dick", a rare 9:45 copy of part of the campaign's introductory phase has been found.

Incidentally, you can now Click Your Dick in 2013 at http://buffalodick.tv

The lengthy "Flint to Flint to Flint" piece, breaking every Rock & Roll Programming Rule, followed a heavy ten-day "live tease" period. It should be noted that the narrator is 19 year-old Art Morrison (currently KCBS AM/FM, San Francisco), as produced by 22 year-old Randy Stephenson, now President/Founder, RMS Recording Studios, Detroit, with clients including The Detroit Tigers, The Michigan Lottery and BF Goodrich.

Art Morrison

Randy Stephenson

For the entire 9:45 production piece, click on the "Flint to Flint --WWCK" just before Art and Randy's pictures at --http://petercavanaugh.wordpress.com/2009/04/23/flint-to-flint-to-flint/

Chapter Fifteen -- "For Your Consideration"

Last updated at 3:15 PM

December 10th 2009

London Daily

Mystery Continues As Spiral Blue Light Display Hovers Above Norway

The light appears to be unconnected with the aurora borealis, or northern lights.

"The mystery began when a blue light seemed to soar up from behind a mountain."

"It stopped mid-air, then began to move in circles.

Within seconds a giant spiral had covered the entire sky."

"Then a green-blue beam of light shot out from its centre – lasting for ten to 12 minutes, onlookers describing it as 'a shooting star that spun around and around."

The following is from the concluding chapter of "Local DJ" -- Page 336

It gave me pause to reflect upon this in the light (literally) of the 2009 December occurance over Norway -- never "officially" explained to this day.

"The burial chamber at Newgrange is on the banks of the River Boyne a few miles to the east. It is over 5000 years old."

"The spiral markings are everywhere. Their meaning is unclear."

Chapter Sixteen -- "Mark is our HeisMAN!"

A Special Flint Memory

Congratulations to 2009 Heisman Trophy Winner Mark Ingram from FLINT!

His Mom, Shonda, was a good friend of daughter, Colleen's, when we lived on Concord Street.

Shonda and her sister, Darla, were part of Colleen's "Fourth of July Parade" around the block in 1976.

Flint, Michigan–"Bicentennial Parade"–July 4, 1976

Left to Right–Missy Weisberg, Laurie Cavanaugh, Shonda Johnson (Mark's Mom), Colleen Cavanaugh, Susan Cavanaugh (on the wagon), Mike Weisberg, Darla Johnson, (Mark's Aunt) and Candace Cavanaugh.

Chapter Seventeen -- "Little Bastard"

September 30, 1955

Fifty-Seven Years Ago

Intersection of California Highways 46 and 41

Highway 41 Runs Through Oakhurst to the North

September 30, 2013 will mark 58 years to the day since James Dean died.

This is the headline from September 30, 1955 --

" James Dean killed in car crash"

The Hollywood film star James Dean has been killed in a road accident in California, USA.

The 24-year-old actor was behind the wheel of his German-made Porsche sports car when it was involved in a head-on collision with another car 30 miles (48 km) east of Paso Robles this evening. Mr. Dean's mechanic, Rolf Wutherich, who was a passenger in the car, was taken to hospital with serious injuries. The driver of the other car was also injured. Medics said Mr Dean, who was dead on arrival at hospital, suffered a broken neck and numerous broken bones.

At the time of the accident the road racing enthusiast was on his way to a race meeting at Salinas, California.

James Dean completed his latest film "Giant", an adaptation of Edna Ferber's book about Texas, just yesterday. His first film, "East of Eden", cast him firmly into the spotlight and many critics believe he had a glittering Hollywood future ahead of him."

Chapter Eighteen \--"Remember in November? You Betcha!"

California Governor Jerry Brown - Campaigning in Fresno for Reelection in October of 2010 -- Photo by Eileen Cavanaugh

Having spent my first twenty years in radio as a Rock & Roll DJ, commencing a relentless musical assault on older ears in 1957 at the innocent (not really) age of 16 on my hometown station, WNDR in Syracuse, I finally got a real job in 1977. That's when I left the air to enter sales and management at WTAC in Flint. Eventually I moved to Toledo as Executive Vice President and Chief Operating Officer of a seven station broadcast group, where I remained for a dozen more years. This was followed by 1998 in Youngstown, where I ran another five radio stations.

It was in Youngstown that I became a Chief Execution Officer, firing dozens of loyal employees "for the bank", many with decades of devoted service. Killers make great money. I know I did. That's why the average Chief Executive Officer in America now earns 263 times the pay of an ordinary American worker. At eBay, Meg Whitman left them in the dust.

Conservatively estimating the salary, bonuses and stellar stock options exercised by Ms. Whitman during her ten year tenure at eBay, her billion dollar haul, if broken down at $100,000,000 annually divided by 52 weeks, comes out to a cool rate of $48,076 an hour. "Nicky" Diaz Santillan, working for Ms. Whitman as maid and housekeeper almost the entire period Queen Meg was at eBay, earned $23 an hour at the time of her dismissal when Whitman decided to enter politics — a poor little rich girl determined to add a whole state to her collection of dollies and ponies.

48,000 to 23? That's a ratio of 2,086 to 1.

Sacrificed on the altar of convenient political expediency, Ms. Santillan testifies that Whitman's final words of thanks were — "from now on, you don't know me and I don't know you. You never have seen me, and I have never seen you." After 9 years as a virtual family member, Ms. Santillan thus found herself instantly abandoned and left adrift, disposed and dispossessed — human flotsam.

But it's still high tide for beneficiaries of other Billionaires bent on keeping us in our places with smiling surrogate faces — funded in no small measure by Charles and David Koch of New York. The Koch brother's father, Fred "There Goes a Red!" Koch, was an arch-conservative prime mover in the John Birch Society back in the '50's, an organization chiefly remembered for calling Dwight David Eisenhower, victorious Supreme Allied Commander in World War Two and 34th President of the United States, a "conscious agent of the International Communist Conspiracy." Fred's boys are making sure the lunacy continues.

In the last few weeks, Christine "Don't Even Keep Your Hands to Yourself" O' Donnell became the official Republican Senatorial candidate in Delaware for the forthcoming November elections, joining Tea Partiers Rand Paul (Kentucky), Joe Miller (Alaska), Sharron Angle (Nevada) and Pat Toomey (Pennsylvania) at the front line of an ominously threatening 2010 ultraconservative offensive, even as tea must be tasting like hemlock to traditional members of the Grand Old Party.

Karl Rove, coming to West Hills College in Coalinga on October 10 for a brief visit (instead of a more extensive and well-earned Pleasant Valley Prison stay), was forced by party pressures to endorse Ms. O'Donnell less than 24 hours after publicly lamenting her win on fascist friendly FOX. Mr. Rove thus retains a profitable profile in powerful circles with an amazingly obeisant display of groveling, dog-like loyalty, but even he has to admit it IS getting pretty "nutty" all over, and not just with witchcraft-dabbling Christine.

According to brand new Census figures, the income gap between the richest and poorest Americans grew last year to its widest amount in history as young adults and children — in particular — struggled to stay afloat in a recession which is far from over. What we see every day here in the Central Valley still stretches coast to coast.

The top-earning 20 percent of Americans – those making more than $100,000 each year – received 49.4 percent of all income generated in the U.S., compared with the 3.4 percent earned by those below the poverty line. That ratio of 14.5-to-1 was an increase from 13.6 in 2008 and nearly double a low of 7.69 in 1968.

Then there's that 2,086 to 1.

Remember in November.

Chapter Nineteen -- "It's The Kids!

Our Eleven Grandchildren in 2007

Syracuse, New York

From Shakespeare's Henry IV (1597) –

Constable: "I will cap that proverb with — "There is flattery in friendship." Orleans: And I will take up that with — "Give the devil his due."

Giving the devil his due, Rush Limbaugh is the finest broadcast performer of his generation. Beyond question, Rush is one of the most powerful radio voices in the history of the medium and, as with Shakespeare, reflects with stunning accuracy the quintessential essence of 16th Century thought.

Given his awesome ratings generation on hundreds of stations across the country following a national syndication debut in 1987 on the imaginary "Excellence In Broadcasting" Network, I was delighted to feature Rush when I managed WSPD, "The KMJ of Toledo", in the mid-'90's. Obviously, we never used "The KMJ of Toledo" in our Ohio advertising, since no one there would have known what on earth we were talking about, but you get the idea. I even ran Rush twice each weekday from Noon till 3 PM, then repeated the whole show again from 3 until 6. We were a solid #1 for six straight hours. But there was an issue concerning fair content balance. I needed a listener generating counterweight.

And so it was that when WIMA-AM, "the KMJ of Lima", a hundred miles to the south, starting regularly beating Rush Limbaugh rather handily in local Arbitrons with some guy named "Dennis Shreefer", it seemed wise to check things out.

Dennis turned out to be a crusty old progressive codger several years my senior– a former major market TV anchor — who deserted fame and fortune to freely unleash his mind in Talk Radio, even though this meant starting a brand new career in a teeny-tiny town. He'd sent out tons of tapes and only Lima, Ohio called — where he was hired and proceeded to kick Rush's royal rear. The radio trades went wild. WHP-AM, "The KMJ of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania", got to Dennis first, luring him away with big, big bucks and a promise of autonomy — i.e., allowing him to say what he wanted on the air. So he did.

Six months passed and, following a major skirmish with General Public Utilities and Metropolitan Edison Company, Dennis was unceremoniously fired without recourse. The corporation, operators of a nuclear power plant known as "Three Mile Island", scene of a partial core meltdown in 1979, had canceled all of its advertising on the station over Shreffer comments relating to community safety and security such as, "We're sleeping with a potential killer!" and "Your teeth fall out first!" Snappy stuff.

So I snapped Dennis up in a heartbeat and brought him to Toledo. At our first face-to-face meeting, he announced: "You're looking at a proud parent. My oldest son has just been voted "Resident of the Month" at the Omaha Rescue Mission." That was true. And that was the essence of Dennis's "act." He simply told the truth as he saw it — damn the torpedoes — full speed ahead. Rock & Roll is an ageless attitude and not restricted to music. In six months, WSPD's (6 to 10 AM) ratings soared from an 8.1% to a 12.5% Total Audience Share, the largest morning show increase in Toledo radio history, unmatched to this day.

It was Dennis Shreefer who said it all in three little words.

One morning, as he was rolling through a typically convoluted, stream-of-consciousness, politically charged narrative on life as he found it, he suddenly stopped–paused–then softly uttered–"You know what? It's the kids. Damn it. It's the kids!"

A major Conservative talking point (let's see if you've heard this one before) is: "American Guarantees Equal Opportunity–Not Equal Results."

I am persuaded this new America of ours guarantees neither.

One out of every seven of our children now goes to bed really hungry every single night.

For the majority of our teenagers, higher education has become an impossible dream.

The Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) measures student literacy in science, math, and reading among 15-year-olds, and is an often-cited reference for policy makers sounding alarm bells about the state of education in the United States and its implications for the ability of Americans to secure jobs in a global economy. The US is now ranked 29th, behind countries like Croatia, the Czech Republic, and Liechtenstein.

America has cut billions and billions of dollars in Educational funding over the past ten years at every level of government — Local, State and Federal, failing miserably in what should be our most important investment as a people.

There is a critical need for massive revision of national priorities, including immediate restoration of tax structures witnessed during the Republican Administration of Dwight D. Eisenhower.

"Class Envy?" "Redistribution of Wealth?" "Handouts to Have-Nots?"

No, man!

It's the kids, damn it. It's the kids!

Chapter Twenty -- "Peace on Earth — IF We Want It!"

John Lennon Tribute

Capitol Theater -- Flint, Michigan

December 9, 1980

With the 2010 November Elections mercifully behind us in a year speeding along faster than a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs, here come the Holidays and with them — treasured childhood echoes from the soundtrack of our lives.

In recent years, faced with ever increasing competitive pressures, some radio stations are beginning to feature "Christmas Music" even now, this category traditionally covering everything from religious themes ("Silent Night", "Away in a Manger", "Joy to the World") — through more secular fare ("Jingle Bells", "Frosty the Snowman", "Feliz Navidad") — to the sublimely ridiculous ("All I Want for Christmas Are My Two Front Teeth") ("Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer") and, for California Proposition 19 fans, Cheech and Chong's immortal ("Santa Claus and His Old Lady.")

Each new season brings fresh candidates competing for contemporary acceptance and, hope against hope, for qualification as a true classic to be brought back time and time again with every completed 583 million mile spin around the sun at 18.5 miles per second.

Recorded in October of 1971 at Record Plant Studios in New York and released on December 6th, the Harlem Community Choir appeared on "This is Christmas", an offering that received limited exposure due to its perceived "political nature" — consequently failing to make Billboard's Top 100 for the month. It was considered by most programmers to be an utter failure in spite of featuring a star performer from a band already judged by many as the greatest of all time — as has become — though the years — the song itself.

December 7th of this year is "Pearl Harbor Day", somberly recalling the 1941 attack by Imperial Japan on our American fleet at Pearl Harbor, "a date which will live in infamy" and initiated our involvement in World War Two. The following day, December 8th, 2010, marks the 30th anniversary of John Lennon's death. It was John, of course, who wrote and produced, "This is Christmas" — later better known as "Happy Xmas (War is Over"). You'll be hearing it again these Holidays on almost every radio station in range across all formats. It contains a message upon which our lives and the future of our nation is dependent.

And it's an invitation.

This year on "Pearl Harbor Day" — some mountain neighbors are getting together at The Grind to present — "Peace on Earth — If We Want It" — a Holiday Commemoration brought to you by the Oakhurst Democratic Forum.

For Web Readers — The Grind is on Highway 41 in Oakhurst, California.

Featured will be two exceptional short films from the 1930's.

1939 was a rough year to be a diehard pacifist. But that's when Hugh Harman's "Peace On Earth" antiwar cartoon was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. In 1994, it was voted #40 of the 50 Greatest Cartoons of all time. It was also nominated for the 1939 Academy Award for Short Subjects, the same year "Gone With the Wind" won "Best Picture."

"Dealers in Death" is a 1935 antiwar documentary telling the story of companies that became rich selling weapons in World War One. Many munitions companies are highlighted including Krupp, Vickers-Armstrong, Skoda, Colt and Remington. Parallels between then and now are truly terrifying.

A panel of participants including Rev. Paul Colbert, Vicar of St. Raphael's Episcopal Church in Oakhurst, Soto Zen Priest Rev. Mary-Allen Macneil of Oakhurst, Dr. Terry Winant from the Philosophy Department at Fresno State and Basim Elkarra, Chair of the Arab/American Caucus of the California Democratic Party, will offer overview and commentary — giving peace a chance.

We hope you'll join us.

Pearl Harbor Day — 7 PM — at The Grind.

Chapter Twenty-One -- "A Tale of Two Santas"

Here comes Santa Claus. Here comes Santa Claus. Right down Fooled Again Lane.

In 1976, as we celebrated America's Bicentennial with fashionable fun, fantastic fireworks and flag-waving frolic, Jude Wanniski coined "The Two Santa Claus Theory", a brilliant positioning move for the Republican Party. It elected Ronald Reagan in 1980.

Mr. Wanniski was Associate Editor of the Wall Street Journal at the time and a devout believer in supply side economics. This is often referred to as "Trickle Down" by those who believe money accrued by the rich inevitably finds its way down to the proletariat (working) poor. Wanniski's hero was a gentleman named Milton Friedman, who took things a bit further, stressing that government must be starved of revenue in order to curtail the growth of spending on such wasteful items as Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, Unemployment Insurance, Workers Disability Compensation and, when all is said and done, any expenditures not associated with increasing private wealth. So it can trickle down.

Welfare — NO! Warfare? –GREAT!

But how does one sell this to the average voter? Hey, Jude!

So Jude Wanniski came up with his "Two Santa Claus" approach — and it goes like this:

Jude said that Democrats are elected because the Democratic Party is generally perceived as "Santa Claus", providing all sorts of goodies with every new election cycle for the general well being of the American people, as mandated by Article 1, Section 8, Clause 1 of the United States Constitution, hardly a Marxist document. Ask The Tea Party.

So Jude declared that the Republican Party needed to be "Santa Claus", too, by making the electorate an offer they could not refuse. It came down to two short words — LOWER TAXES! It worked like a charm and did again — only weeks ago.

And here's the really cool part of Wanniski's plan — If Republicans would only keep pounding "Lower Taxes!" through the years, while increasing expenditures on things THEY liked, combined with radically lower taxes for powerful supporters (Reagan Tax Cuts 1981 and 1986) (Bush Tax Cuts 2001 and 2003), there would be an inevitable collision with an unavoidable destination — the realization of Milton Friedman's dream — a democratic government stifled, strangled and starved. Down for the count. Turn up the Trickle.

And what was on the Conservative "like" list as taxes were toppled?

Granada (1983 — $ 50 million dollars), Panama (1989 — $155 million), Persian Gulf War (1991 — $ 102 Billion), Iraq (2003 — $ 784 Billion to date), and Afghanistan (2003 — $ 321 Billion to date).

And are we more secure with all those "dollars for defense", especially with profit margins for war manufacturers raging as high as 90%?

As of this very year, China now has the fastest computer in the world (The Tianhe 1A –capable of 2.5 thousand trillion operations per second), the speediest train (Hexie Hao at a steady 250 miles per hour) and the deadliest long-range missile system ever developed –The Dong Feng 21D — fully capable of sinking an aircraft carrier a thousand miles away.

In the last 30 years, since the election of The Great Communicator with his powerful new message, our National Debt has soared from $ 700 billion to $ 14 trillion dollars under primarily Republican administrations. $14 trillion dollars is $ 14 thousand billion, a full $ 9 trillion of the $ 14 trillion total racked up since the Inauguration of George W. Bush in 2001.

So now we have a Presidential Panel calling for austerity measures disproportionately aimed at those who can least afford sacrifice, while a new House of Representatives stands ready to roll back hard-won measures dealing with Health and Banking Reform.

Wall Street compensation with bonuses in 2010 will hit a record of $144 billion dollars — the highest in history — with million dollar earners paying Social Security taxes only on barely 10% of their incomes.

George The Conqueror now haunts the nation on a book tour victory lap — something Barack Obama will be denied at the end of his first and only term — unless he begins to act like a Republican — leading with enthusiastic vitality — ruthlessly sticking to a defined game plan — and fighting with determined dedication and fierce conviction for what he truly believes.

Anything less is pure surrender.

Chapter Twenty-Two -- "Chicken ala Boehner"

John Boehner is my daughter, Colleen's, Congressman.

Colleen lives in Middletown, Ohio, smack dab in the middle of Ohio's 8th Congressional District, which encompasses a primarily rural area on the Indiana border north of Cincinnati. Ohio's 8th is carved up quite like our own California 19th. It's voted solid Republican since the end of the '30's.

Colleen and husband, Lindsey, staunch Republicans, report they like Boehner and that his office "really came through" when they spent a week in Washington earlier this year. It was cherry blossom time.

John's been Congressman in Colleen's District for the last twenty years.

His immediate predecessor, Donald Edgar "Buz" Lukens, was highly regarded as a rising "Family Values" star in Ohio Conservative politics until being forced to resign following conviction for "contributing to the delinquency of a minor", a nice way of describing paid sex with a 16 year old. "Buz" was also sentenced to 30 months in Federal Prison for accepting countless bribes in office. But "Buz" could always be counted on to vote straight party line. Period. Always. "NTN!" "No Thinking Necessary!"

And so it was when our soon to be Speaker of the House of Representatives, third in line to the American Presidency, eloquently summarized his reaction to a long overdue House vote on preserving tax breaks for 98% of us with the words — "Chicken crap" — it brought to mind a perfect illustration of how things really work in Washington on the right side of the aisle.

Colonel Tom Parker was a one-time carnival huckster and country music promoter, who become almost as famous as his phenomenally successful protege, Elvis Presley. But it was in those early years way before "The King of Rock 'n Roll" that "Colonel" Parker" pulled off some of his most incredible exploits. One of my all time favorites was an act called, "Colonel Parker's Amazing Dancing Chickens." In return for a nickel admission price, every paying customer left dazed, dazzled and thoroughly satisfied with an astounding performance that delivered all it promised and then some.

Colonel Parker would begin his presentation with a brief commentary on the time, effort and inestimable genius required in teaching chickens how to dance, then pull back the curtain on a dozen caged chickens walking randomly about in feathered frenzy as only chickens do. Parker would then drop the needle on an old RCA "Victrola", filling the room with a scratchy, but clearly audible version of "Turkey in the Straw." And the chickens all danced. In unison! When the song ended -- they stopped!

What went unseen was that the floor of the elevated cage was actually an electric hot plate, triggered "on" by starting the Victrola and "off" by stopping it.

Voila!

Dancing Chickens!

Just a day before Congressman Boehner's "Chicken crap" commentary, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell delivered a letter to Majority Leader Harry Reid announcing that no Republicans would vote for ANYTHING on ANY SUBJECT until the top 2% income earners in our country got to keep their Bush era tax breaks. It was signed by all forty sitting Republican Senators without exception.

It's the same in the House.

On January 28, 2009, The House voted to approve the Stimulus Bill 244 to 188 with not one single Republican vote. On March 27, 2010, The Health Reform Bill was approved 219 to 212 with every Republican voting against the measure.

Dancing Chickens!

The Colonel would be proud.

But whose hand is on the needle now?

Chapter Twenty-Three --"A Namesake Well-Hanged"

Lawrence Cavanaugh in the Dock --Tasmanian Superior Court -- September 6th and 7th -- 1843 -- Courtesy -- State Library of Tasmania

While I was always professionally known as "Peter C. Cavanaugh", my actual middle name is Lawrence, named after my Great-Grandfather Peter's, Uncle Lawrence.

Making a VERY long story short, while I discovered only last year that our family on my mother's side date back to the Mayflower -- it's quite different from the Cavanaugh (Irish) side of the bed.

Great-Great Uncle Lawrence was naughty. The above picture is from a newspaper portrait featured in the Tasmanian Times from September 6, 1843. He is actually standing in the dock, on trial for — you name it – although he was always a gentleman to the ladies. The following is from official records:

"Lawrence Cavanaugh was born in Waterford, Ireland. His actual birth date has been lost, but may have been around 1805. He is described as a man of indomitable spirit, courage and resolution and it is unfortunate that for whatever reason he turned to a life of crime. His particular marks are described as a missing little finger right hand, "A.D." above elbow joint left arm, two stars in palm of left hand, one on wrist. He was Roman Catholic, had some education in that he could read and was a stonemason and quarryman by trade.

On 24 August 1828, he was convicted of burglary in Dublin and sentenced to transportation for life. He arrived in Sydney on the 'Ferguson' in 1829.

Cavanaugh was in trouble with the law almost immediately committing several offences, including bushranging, escaping and attempted Robbery Under Arms. His record became so serious that in 1831 he was transported to Norfolk Island (the prison for the most hardened criminals) for 14 years, where he continued to get into serious trouble. On 13 February 1833, he received forty lashes for insolence, followed by another 150 the following January for attempting to escape.

In 1842 he returned to Sydney and on 19th January he received 36 lashes for cutting his irons and trying to escape. His next bid for freedom was successful. He stole some firearms and escaped with two others. When they were recognized near South Head some 17 days later, Lawrence fired at the two men who had seen him. He was quickly recaptured and charged with attempted murder.

On 12 April 1842, he was found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment in Tasmania. He was sent on the ship 'Marion Watson'. On arrival there he was sent to Port Arthur where he met Martin Cash and George Jones, both of whom also had long criminal records.

Between 1830 and 1877, Port Arthur was used as a high security prison. Desperation drove many convicts to attempt escape from Port Arthur, but only a few ever made it successfully via Eaglehawk and East Bay Necks.

Some 'bolters' perished in the dense bush or drowned whilst attempting a sea crossing in makeshift canoes and rafts. Others were caught in the act and subjected to severe punishments for their efforts. Some of the escape plans were quite bizarre. In one case, the convict Billy Hunt disguised himself as a kangaroo and attempted to hop across the Neck. His plan was brought to a sudden halt when one of the soldiers decided to shoot the large hopper. Billy was forced to reveal his true identity.

None of this detered Cash, Cavanaugh and Jones. They made a carefully planned and executed escape on 26th December 1842. On reaching the Neck, they tied their clothes in a bundle on their heads and followed each other silently into the water. Cash lost sight of his friends and feared that they had been eaten by sharks.

On reaching the opposite bank, however, they were re-united, though all had lost their clothes during the crossing. The men stole provisions and clothes from a nearby road-gang's hut. They then built a log fort on the top of Mount Dromedary. They turned to full-time bushranging operating in the Derwent, Bagdad, Pittwater and New Norfolk Districts. For the next 20 months they caused much fear across Tasmania as they robbed homesteads, inns and travellers, including mail coaches.

They considered themselves lucky as they normally managed to avoid parties of police and soldiers sent after them and survived a number of shootouts and close pursuits with the authorities and armed civilians. They also tended to concentrate on the properties of the well-to-do, leaving the poorer farmers and settlers in peace. They became known as Cash, Cavanaugh & Jones and then simply "Cash & Company".

In August 1843 Cash discovered that his paramour Bessie (who was living in Hobart) was seeing another man. Furious he decided to kill her. He and Cavanaugh disguised themselves as sailors and made their way into Hobart to find her, but were quickly recognised. There was a shootout in which Cash escaped but Cavanaugh was wounded and surrendered.

Cash decided to try again, so on Tuesday 29 August 1843 he returned to Hobart. This time he was recognised by two Constables who challenged him and then chased him as he fled. He could have made good his escape, however he made a mistake by running down a dead-end street.

Here he was seized by another Constable named Peter Winstanley. Cash fired a pistol and the bullet struck Winstanley who died shortly afterwards. By now the two other constables had been joined by some civilians and they tried to seize Cash. He fired again and the bullet struck two civilians. However, he was quickly overpowered and taken to the Davey Street gaol.

On 4th September 1843, Cash and Cavanaugh were tried before Justice Montague at the Hobart Town Criminal Sessions. Cash was charged with murder, Cavanaugh with Robbery Under Arms of the Launceston Mail Coach at Epping Forest on 13th July 1843, both of which were hanging offences.

They were found guilty and sentenced to hang on 14th September. However, an hour before the execution was due to be carried out the sentence was reprieved. Instead, both men were to be transported to Norfolk Island, known to prisoners and guards alike as 'living hell'.

At Norfolk Island Cash became a reformed man. In 1852, he was considered to be a "trusty" and was appointed as a Convict Overseer. On 24th March 1854, he married a woman named Mary Bennett and on 31st March 1854, he was appointed as a Constable. On 24th June 1856, Martin Cash received a Conditional Pardon and this was confirmed as a Free Pardon on 11 July 1863.

Lawrence Cavanaugh, however, made no attempt to reform. In October 1846, he joined the former New South Wales bushranger Jackey Jackey (William Westwood) and several other prisoners in a mutiny.

They killed or seriously injured four men and committed several other serious crimes. Justice was quick to follow and on 12 October 1846 Cavanaugh was hanged. Shortly before his execution he asked to see his old mate Martin Cash and both men exchanged final farewells.

Lawrence Cavanaugh is buried in Murderer's Mound, outside the Cemetery on Norfolk Island, along with the other mutineers.

Today a ferry boat named in honour of Lawrence services Dunk Island 4 miles of the coast of Queensland Australia."

So the story actually has sort of a happy ending, with poor Lawrence having the boat named after him many years following his final swing.

As I've mentioned and written before, "Rock & Roll" is not just music — "It's An Attitude."

I find I'm MUCH prouder of my Great-Great Uncle Lawrence than those darn Pilgrims.

They banned Christmas!

Rock & Roll!

Chapter Twenty-Four -- "Goofy's Golden Gavel

Among our species' most puzzling and haunting mysteries, right up there with the meaning of life, the secret of bumble bee flight (there's no aerodynamic reason) and why men leave up toilet seats (gravity defiance?), is one purely attributable to the late Walt Disney. I've heard it since First Grade.

"If Mickey is a mouse, Donald is a duck and Pluto is a dog — what — and who — is Goofy?"

Hmmmmm.

Unlike a dog – he stands on two feet — wears human clothing — and talks.

That voice has seemed suspiciously familiar all along — his curious, stuttering cadence — those blurry eyes — such great big hands — and what a stunned look of blank amazement at — almost everything.

The giant gavel John Boehner so proudly pounded as he became our new Speaker of the House was made to certain specifications in Middletown, Ohio, part of John's home district. One suspects the exact design was primarily to assure all assembled that Speaker Boehner's gavel was much, much, much bigger than his predecessor's — approximately the size of a small fire hydrant — possibly reflecting Boehner's panting embracement of "trickle down" theory.

In certain circles, size still counts. So does chromatic hue. Though made of wood, John's gavel, flashing under the pulsing, strobe-like illumination of cameras by the score, started to glitter like gold. And well it should. There's money up on that there Hill.

Saddle up, boys!

Look! Loot! Lots! Loads!

Only the night before John's big day, our own new Congressman from California's "Gold Country", Jeff Denham (almost — he wasn't sworn in yet — that's just a detail) threw one heck of a "You Can Buy and Pay Me Some More" Party at one of the coolest spots in town. Representative Denham, having campaigned on a message of austerity and budget cuts, charged $2,500 a person (or $50,000 a table) at Washington's posh "W" Hotel for a no holds barred, shake 'em on down fund raiser headlining LeAnn Rimes, fresh from a confessed extramarital affair and her recent Christmas Pageant appearance with a gay choir in a "Sexy Santa" outfit. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Santa's always been fashionable.

Attendance was wall to wall. In fact, before even being elected, Jeff has become a fundraising kingpin for fellow freshmen members, planning at least four high dollar fundraisers in D.C. at the Republicans-only Capitol Hill Club.

The word is out. Reputation counts. Denham comes through. Proper contributions? Political solutions!

Jeff's a player.

In late March, Denham probably violated federal election law when he traveled on a corporate aircraft owned by a prominent west-side farming company from Fresno to the Bay Area with Karl Rove, Presidential Advisor to George W. Bush.

Rove, long overdue for serious time in the slammer, had just addressed a major Republican rally at the Fresno Convention Center. Karl should have advised Jeff about the "Honest Leadership and Open Government Act" George signed in September of 2007 making it illegal for House candidates to fly on corporate jets.

But this is nickel and dime stuff.

If there was a shred of doubt in anyone's mind that sinister forces are at work in the world, one only needs to review the appalling "Remembering the Brave" Campaign launched in support of then California State Senator Denham with an extensive paid schedule dominating our mountain airwaves on every major Fresno TV station in days leading up to the June 8th Primary. Over $150,000 in funds were spent as we witnessed Jeff Denham climbing to long sought Congressional heights on the backs of the bereaved. Veterans' groups were justifiably in an uproar. Why didn't all that money just go to the cause?

And how often will we again, time after time, bribe ("contribution") after bribe ("donation"), see our darkest suspicions blatantly verified by the conduct of elected officials displaying total disregard for true honor, proper respect and common decency. Family values — discounted to dust.

Pound that golden gavel, Goofy.

Chapter Twenty-Five -- "Comfortably Numb"

Of all the people in history that have reached 65 years of age, half of them are living right now. And that's for the whole world. Here in Madera County, we're all over the place. Look around. Geezers galore! I'm proud and amazed at being part of our illustrious bunch, having entered my 70th year this last September 8th when I turned 69. Wife Eileen is most uncomfortable having me state personal chronology this way, "70th year" ringing in her ears with ominous overtones, but I find still being on the right side of the lawn an astounding achievement.

The United States entered World War Two three months after my birth and ended it four years later with two blinding explosions of star-hot white light over Hiroshima and Nagasaki as The Atomic Age rolled in with terrible terminal fury.

J. Robert Oppenheimer was an American theoretical physicist and professor of physics at the University of California, Berkeley. He is known as the "father of the atomic bomb". Later solemnly pondering such achievement with churning discomfort as he reviewed the horrific fruits of his labor, Oppenheimer famously recalled these words from the Hindu Holy Book, Bhagavad Gita: "If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendor of the mighty one. Now, I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."

Back then even we children knew the score. "Duck and Cover" wasn't a game, but a constantly repeated survival exercise. We were carefully instructed to "listen for sirens" and be on the lookout for a "brilliant burst of light" at which point we were to dive to the ground or under our desks and, if possible, cover ourselves with anything appropriate, if only little hands on tiny faces. I honestly never expected to see puberty, whatever I might have thought that to be, although in the late '40's we never heard of "puberty" at all. There were many more secrets then -- but not about instantaneous death and destruction. These always seemed but a single flash away. It was understood that existence was a precarious proposition.

Proportionately miraculous, therefore, is the extraordinary notion that so many of us in Oakhurst are still here, our longevity primarily attributable to the overarching guarantee of assured mutual destruction should "the radiance of a thousand suns" ever again be darkly unleashed.

This "War Against Terror?" How foolish a phrase and how wrenchingly sad, for only ultimate terror has kept us safe so far.

But things have become marvelously, almost immaculately anesthetized. We are painlessly removed from stark realities for which we still remain ultimately responsible. "War" has become an abstraction. Just a word. Other than a slender percentage of population, most of us live safely above the cry of battle, far away from the rumble of artillery, at comfortable, soothing distance from death rattles of the dying. Such cultural sequester is not by accident.

It was a full fifty years ago, January 17, 1961, that President Dwight David Eisenhauer, Supreme Allied Commander of our victorious forces in that Second World War, issued this critical warning in his Farewell Address to the Nation:

"My fellow Americans, we have been compelled to create a permanent armaments industry of vast proportions. In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist."

An astounding recent article (December 2010) in the Boston Globe analyzed the career paths of 750 of the highest-ranking generals and admirals who retired during the last two decades. Escalating through earlier years, by 2004 through 2008, 80 percent of retiring three and four-star officers went to work as consultants or defense executives, many becoming millionaires in the process. In 2007 alone, the move from general staff to industry was virtually a clean sweep. Thirty-four out of 39 three- and four-star generals and admirals who retired in 2007 are now working in defense roles — nearly 90 percent.

Yet no one seems to care.

With a trillion and a half dollar budget deficit this year alone, fifteen billion dollars a week now feeds the increasingly voracious American war machine.

It's crazy!

With an American war hero's warning unheeded and predatory power unchecked, we have become a people comfortably numbed — resigned to bored indifference — our continuing presence in Afghanistan and elsewhere off our shores — an extended act of moral abrogation and national insanity.

Chapter Twenty-Six -- "Sierra Cement"

And so it was we sadly witnessed trees by the thousands — many hundred year-old oaks — bent and broken — smothered and toppled — as irresistible forces of inevitable nature visited these foothills in the first 24 hours of a new Spring.

Our Oakhurst area was the regional epicenter. A furiously perfect combination of temperature and humidity unloaded wet snow by the megaton on Birch, Pine, Manzanita and more — fresh green buds unfortunately providing greatly increased capture space. As I awoke on Monday morning, the dawn was filled by the sound of trees cracking like rifle fire.

"Sierra Cement?" Yes! A perfect description! Daughter, Susan, claimed no pride of authorship as she uttered this phrase, having lived here for well over a decade, yet never having witnessed such a relentless, devastating example of this unyielding, unforgiving phenomenon. Nor had wife, Eileen, nor I ever experienced so powerfully unique a storm, although both of us were born and raised in Syracuse, New York, where an annual snowfall of 120 inches remains pretty much par for the course.

The amount of water that snow contains is known as the "snow to liquid ratio." An average ratio is about 10:1, which means that 10 inches of snow melts down to 1 inch of water. The ratio for "Sierra Cement" is about 5:1, whereas good powder is around 15:1 or 20:1. Accordingly to the National Weather Service, our recent Oakhurst inundation was probably close to 4:1 — as heavy as it gets.

The single saving grace of "Sierra Cement" would seem to be its brief life span, unlike "Societal Cement".

"Societal Cement" is formed and molded, often by passive acceptance. It sets and hardens — securing and separating us into unique personal, individual placement away from others — isolating all in varying degrees by religion, politics, race, national origin, sex, age, income and other often narrow divisions.

Yet ultimately, we're all in this together, whatever "this" may turn out to be.

Why is gasoline now up to $4.00 a gallon while there has been absolutely no dimunition in available supply except that which has been arbitrarily and artificially imposed by limiting refining?

Because we've been conditioned to accept as inevitable the absurdity that certain forces are "beyond our control."

Why are governmental budgets being balanced on the backs of the old and poor while corporate profits are at record levels with General Electric paying NO taxes on FOURTEEN BILLION DOLLARS IN 2010 PROFITS?

Because we're letting it happen.

Why has our Federal system become polarized and paralyzed?

Because compromise, the essence of cooperation, has been unilaterally condemned as capitulation and foolishly defined as unconditional surrender.

As one can be locked into a situation or system which rigidly prohibits spiritual, philosophical or economic extension beyond defined perimeters, remember that Societal Cement primarily exists to preserve the approved — to keep us in our place in line — all the time. A willful decision to accept selfishly formulated notions of others as personal judgment is self-imposed confinement.

Thinking is heavy lifting for far too many of us. It's hard being truly free.

"Freedom of Thought" can not be discovered and is not guaranteed in the U.S. Constitution. This may well explain why the "Tea Party" attracts so many spectacular non-thinkers, up to and including the entire programming lineup at KMJ-AM and their struggling FM stepchild.

Please consider thinking about these things. And doing something — about everything.

Trust yourself anytime you choose. It's only Rock & Roll.

Chapter Twenty-Seven -- "Goodbye, Goodbar, Goodbye

John "Mister Goodbar" Smith -- October 20, 1936 – April 5, 2011

I am saddened to report that my friend John "Mister Goodbar" Smith passed away in his sleep at approximately 1:20 this (Tuesday) morning (EDT) at Briarwood Rehabilitation Center in Flint.

John had been transferred to Briarwood only last week following several weeks of convalescence at McLaren Hospital after a fall at his home.

John was 74. At this time, there are no plans for formal services.

John had come to Flint in early 1969 as manager of the then new Flint Cinema Theater on South Dort Highway, eventually becoming Advertising Director of Butterfield Theaters of Michigan in the late '70′s. John then left Butterfield to become a radio talk show host on WTRX and, subsequently, WFDF. "Mister Goodbar" was quite active in early Flint Rock & Roll, including involvement with Sherwood Forest and Mt. Holly Concerts and support and encouragement of many local musicians.

I was honored to have enjoyed and treasured John's friendship and counsel for well over four decades. He was one of the nicest individuals with whom I ever enjoyed the pleasure of association. And wisest as well.

I referenced "Mister Goodbar" several times in my book, "Local DJ", but a more extended version appeared in the original, unpublished draft, made available here:

WTAC Sales Executive Bob Vanderweil & John "Mister Goodbar" Smith -- At the Entrance Gate to Sherwood Forest -- Summer 1972

On Saturday, November 4th, 1972 President Richard M. Nixon flew into Tri-City Airport in Saginaw for a rally. I had been cleared through the Secret Service for press credentials and was waiting on the tarmac when Air Force One landed. It always provides an impressive arrival, regardless of occupant. Nixon walked within five feet of me on his way to a hastily improvised podium. Saginaw was one of seven stops on that day's itinerary, and he was on the ground for less than thirty minutes. I was surprised at how big a man he was and how well he carried himself. I was most struck by his eyes. They were steel cold. The only other eyes I had ever seen radiating such hard, furious intensity belonged to Chuck Berry.

Eileen and I voted on Tuesday, November 7th. It was dreary, dark, wet, early evening in Flint as we arrived at our polling place. Several long-haired McGovern supporters were standing drenched in a cold rain, passing-out last minute flyers. "He'll bring our brothers home!", they pleaded. Eileen voted for George and I wrote in a vote for Mr. Goodbar.

Mr. Goodbar was truly John Smith, but which name is more believable?

John was the manager of a first-run theater, The Flint Cinema, on South Dort Highway and had premiered most major new films arriving in fair Flint. John looked like a college professor and kept nearly two feet of anarchistic hair neatly tucked-in under a seditious wig. We had first met when I was doing a live WTAC remote broadcast from his theater in 1969 for the Flint opening of "Easy Rider".

During my last break, I had commented that "Easy Rider" was unbelievably great and, unlike many commercial endorsements, I actually meant it. I also ad-libbed that if "2001″ by Stanley Kubrick was a "Space Odyssey"; "Easy Rider" was a "Spaced Odyssey." I thought it was a superior line.

John Smith walked over, gravely introduced himself as the theater manager, and somberly suggested that I come to his office before leaving. Great. A right wing asshole. I was ready for a speech on "family image", "corporate responsibilty", or possibly "the encouragement of youthful decadence" as I knocked on the office door with a resigned sigh. Keeping clients happy was a practiced skill and besides, it was his goddamn movie.

Mr. Smith was sitting at his desk. He looked up and simply said: "Lock the door." I did.

"Try one of these headin' home!"

John tossed a round, full, generously packed joint in my direction. It was rolled like a mini-baseball bat.

He placed his hand to his head and removed what I then knew was camouflage. I was looking at Jerry Garcia in a three-piece suit.

"It's a special "Goodbar" blend,", beamed John.

That it was.

Goodbar was the product of prolonged parochial education (Sacred Heart/Immaculate Heart of Mary/Precious Blood/Jesuit) and had spent several years working in Ann Arbor. He was acquainted with John Sinclair and the MC5 and all their cohorts. He was skeptical of their revolutionary pretentions, but thought the music was acceptable if "one enjoyed melodic hysteria". His critique of the new Yoko Ono single, produced by husband John Lennon, was that it "sounded like the woeful wail of a beagle pup having its dick nailed to the floor". John was arrogantly intellectual and pleasantly subversive. A perfect companion!

A prominent cartoon figure in many college campus "underground" newspapers of the day was a character called "Mr. Goodbar". He had nothing to do with candy bars or a later movie wherein he was sought. "Mr. Goodbar" was several dimensions ahead of normal reality and light-years advanced in cosmic perception. Whenever someone brought a mundane, ordinary, commonplace problem to his attention (or one which he considered such -- which was almost anything), he always offered a single, simple, eloquent piece of advice. Anyone who read "underground" comics knew what Mr. Goodbar said. Mr. Goodbar would always say:

"Go Fuck Yourself."

"Mr. Goodbar" was John Smith's alter ego and true identity.

To me, John Smith would still make an excellent President and did proudly and patriotically inhale. Mr. Goodbar believed that Vietnamese weed was the only good thing being brought out of the conflict and smoking it was a gesture of appreciation and thankful salute to otherwise unheralded American troops. "At least those Commie pricks can't get high on this one," John would philosophize as we sat around three-room "Goodbar Manor" at 4 a.m. listening to Bill Cosby play jazz piano with "Badfoot Brown". I believe he was on tape.

In spite of my ballot, Mr. Goodbar was not elected President in 1972 nor was George McGovern. Bob Seger summed it up.

"Tricky Dick, he played it slick. Somethin' I's afraid he'd do, back in '72."

John Smith -- Michael Moore \-- Eileen & Peter Cavanaugh and Roy "Roy Boy" Guidrey

Davison, Michigan -- 2000

Thoughts From The Internet:

Michael Moore — "I am very sorry to hear this. He was such a good guy to me. And smart. He knew his movies. Wouldn't let me pay."

Michael Moore & Mr. Goodbar (2002)

Nancy Dymond — "So sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. Can't believe he was 74."

Neil Kearney — "Sorry to hear of his passing, Peter."

Pat Clawson – "Very sad news, indeed."

Dave Barber — "Peter, I don't know what to say. Although we spoke of John's situation by phone – it's still so hard to deal with the reality of his death. YOU were such a good friend to him. My heart is heavy with sorrow during our time of loss."

Brad Norman — "So sorry for your loss, Pete...you always spoke highly of him.

Tom Rose — "Sorry Pete."

Ellen Light — "Sad to hear Peter. My thoughts and prayers are with all of his family and friends at this difficult time."

Kevin Pollock — "So sorry Pete."

Jim Meltzer — "He was a great guy."

Max Kerner — "MAY HE REST IN OUR HEARTS FOREVER, PETE."

Tony Clark –" I remember John from my WTRX days and Flint Nightline. Nice guy...sorry to hear about his passing."

Michael J. Thorp –" I worked with him as well. Ran the "Butterfield Theaters" in the area for years and always had a classy sound on the air. He was a natural, and very bright. He could comment intelligently on almost anything. Sorry to hear of his passing."

Charles Walker — "It sucks to lose old friends."

Jim Baade — "He use to fill in for Dave Barber over at WFDF back in the 90′s. Nice guy, sorry to hear of his passing."

Bill Pearson — "Although John's persona was that of a hardcore rock 'n' roller, truth is he enjoyed and appreciated ALL types of music. He called me at WFNT a couple of years ago to tell me how much he enjoyed hearing "The Little Boy That Santa Claus Forgot" by Nat King Cole on one of my Christmas shows. A great guy...He will truly be missed."

Dennis Preston — "He seemed like a great Bud to you, Pete. I'm glad I met him at my Posters Exhibition in Lansing a few years ago."

Doug Sanders — "Sad news, Pete. I'm sorry for your loss. His face is in my memory."

Jon Broadworth — "Sorry to hear of John's passing. He was very helpful to me during my short stint with radio. My condolences to his friends and family."

Jeff Olds – "Sorry to hear that John has passed, he is in my prayers."

Cameron Smith — "John was a great guy. I worked with him at WTRX. He will be missed."

Tim Owen — "Sorry to hear... best to John's family and friends..."

Bill Groves — "Good bye Mr. Goodbar! As a Plumber of some experience it's my belief the that the sewer system of this space ship is clogged beyond repair and sage that he was, John choose to leave before the shit got above his chin."

Johnny Burke — "John Smith was an enigma, wrapped in a joint! I always loved the way he talked...hardly ever understood what he was saying. He had a way of "boiling it down" that I studied, and attempt to emulate to this day. RIP old friend."

Rob Namowicz — "John became my pal when he was still operating Butterfield theaters in Flint and Ann Arbor. We had met at various music venues in town. John helped me to understand and appreciate film by encouraging me to go to his theaters. One of the earliest movies I saw at Johns' insistence was 'Performance' with Mick Jagger and Anita Pallenberg. We were both big fans of the soundtrack album that featured much slide guitar and some electronic music which we both dug immensely.

At the theater on South Dort, John would wind his Dorian locks beneath his hairpiece to create a visage of normality for the patrons. We would sit in his office and chuckle, munching good popcorn, then at moments before the film start, smoothly enter the rear of the theater. After we would repair to his apartment, Goodbar Manor. Whilst listening to the myriad albums John had purloined from radio stations in Flint from promo men and program directors wide ranging topics would be discussed, from the arctic to the tropics, from the Democrats to the Republicans, the anarchists to the totalitarian.

Several years into our friendship out little band had rented a block of buildings in downtown Holly, acquired giant piles of West Amplifiers, and set up a recording studio. Odd Fellows Hall studio was the scene of many wild happenings, among them visits from Mr. Goodbar when he would appear with 7 1/2″ reels of tape, selections he had made with art on the cover of the tape box labeling them 'Welcome to the Crazies.' Our playback system at the time afforded John the chance to hear his favorites at more than concert audio pressure. He and I and anyone else who could take the sound levels would plop down in comfortable chairs in front of the speakers with all manner of mood enhancement to hear Goodbars' selections. His taste was various and eclectic, and widened my horizons on every visit.

John was not shy with his opinions in conversation and would not let a bad idea go unchallenged. His retorts to either my youthful altruism or latent conservative outlook would get peppered by his barbs. Always thoughtful, he helped to elucidate an unusual world view based on his wisdom and experience. I will always be grateful to have known him.

On visits during this last hospitalization, after they pulled some of the tubes out of him so he could speak, he had lost a lot of ground but not his sardonic wit. He poked fun at his own condition, remarking he had told the doctors to 'just give him the needle and set him out by the back door.' I perceived that as a 'rally' for John, but alas, it was not to be. Godspeed old friend, break on through to the other side. Don't give St. Peter too much guff."

Chapter Twenty-Eight -- "Alas, Alice! A Madder One Yet!"

""Why, yes, I'm very fond of tea," said Alice to the Mad Hatter."

With politically progressive credentials clearly and publicly established through the years, my first reaction to formation of the "Tea Party Movement" was admittedly positive with genuine enthusiasm and hopeful expectation. Government, supposedly "by, of, and for the people", hasn't seemed at all that way in recent times.

In the July 29th, 2010 edition of The Sierra Star, I even wrote:

"Having enjoyed a lovely gathering at the July 4th "Family Freedom Fest" at Oakhurst Park, all concerned are due appropriate congratulations and recognition for successful organizational efforts and, mainly, for deeply caring about their country."

I still feel that way now about the people, but not "The Party." That's not my cup of tea at all.

Let's reflect on our very recent past.

In national polling data from early April, 55% of us urged compromise on major issues, including 69% of Democrats, 53% of Independents and 50% of registered Republicans. In contrast, 68% of those identifying themselves as "Tea Party Supporters" shunned any form of negotiated agreement, preferring a government shutdown and subsequent horrors over not getting their absolute way — placing principle over precipice plunging.

House Majority Leader Eric Cantor (R-Va) -- a Tea Party treasure, drafted and drove to approval (220 to 202) a hopelessly pretentious House Resolution –"The Government Prevention Shutdown Act" — which revealed Cantor's inexcusable ignorance of basic Constitutional Law. In the bill, cynically named to disguise 61 billion dollars in social spending cuts, Cantor inserted language stating that the measure would become the law of the land if the Senate didn't quickly approve it. And never mind a Presidential signature. Cantor, who apparently never completed Third Grade Social Studies, thought it was a great, "serious" idea.

But Congressman Paul Ryan (R-Wis) leaves Cantor in the dust when it comes to hypocrisy honed to the razor's edge. Representative Ryan is House Budget Committee Chairman and has just introduced his masterpiece, a " Path to Prosperity", your official Republican Budget Proposal for Fiscal 2012 and beyond. On this path, according to Kaiser Health News, seniors and those with disabilities would pay much more for Medicare. Specifically, "By 2030, typical 65 year-olds would be required to pay 68% of the cost of their coverage, which includes premiums, deductibles, and other out-of-pocket costs." In addition, traditional "Medicare" would DISAPPEAR by 2022 and shift beneficiaries into private insurance plans operated by "for profit" corporations. And he'll be bringing back that "Donut Hole" so retirees can pay more for drugs again. And all this under the Holy Tea Party Grail of "Cutting Government Spending"

How about "Increasing Government Revenue", even though Congressman Ryan, now self-defined as the Doctor Kevorkian of Medicare, also wants to lower taxes for the rich from 35% to 25%?

Right here in California, an interesting statistic from Tulchin Research offers breathtaking hope.

A survey taken in March suggests that nearly eight out of ten California voters (78%) favor raising income taxes by 1% on the top 1% of Californians in order to help balance the state budget and prevent deeper cuts to social services. 89% of Democrats like the idea, 79% of Independents think that's a fine suggestion and even 60% of Republicans would support such a measure. This single act would raise 2.5 billion dollars for the common good. Hah! An increase to 10% would completely eliminate our entire currently projected state budget deficit and restore many programs, safety nets and jobs recently ripped away by alleged necessity.

Please recall that our "Top 1%" just received a 9 billion dollar tax decrease from the Federal Government at the end of last year with President Obama's extension of the Bush tax breaks. Over the last ten years, they're billions and billions and billions ahead. How 'bout you?

Locally and nationally, our collective problem is not loss of private wealth, but lack of political will.

As Led Zeppelin would urge — Let's "bring the balance back."

And as for "The Tea Party" with Sarah, Michelle, Eric, Paul and now even "The Donald?"

""At any rate, I'll never go THERE again!'" said Alice as she picked her way through the wood."

Chapter Twenty-Nine -- "A Father of Two"

Representative Jeff Denham of California's 19th Congressional District seems like a very nice young man and I'm sure, as is true of all very nice young men, Jeff will be perfectly fine once he grows up.

I saw and heard Jeff, 43, speak last Thursday before a first class Luncheon presented by the Oakhurst Chamber of Commerce at Sierra Meadows Country Club, a bit of a change in ambiance from my usual well worn bar stool at the Oak Room. Since I have somehow gained a local reputation for progressive ("liberal") ("left wing") ("Commie") views – often expressed aloud and at length in public, I had promised Kathy McCorry and Angelo Pizelo my attendance would be accompanied by a closed mouth and open mind. I am pleased (and surprised) to report that I delivered on both.

I didn't know what to expect.

All I had learned about our new Congressman came from media reports.

There was last year's corporate plane ride with Karl Rove in apparent violation of Federal Law and an ill-advised $150,000 "Public Service Campaign" in honor of American war dead which gained Jeff substantial local television exposure during last year's Republican primary as well as the justified wrath of area veterans' groups. Then there was that $2,500 a person ($50,000 a table) fund raiser at Washington's ever so fashionable "W" hotel headlining LeAnn Rimes on January 4th marking Jeff's debut in Washington. The event took in $212,250 in contributions, but his committee claimed it cost $212,900, meaning the whole lobbyist shakedown supposedly earned just 650 bucks. Stuff like that.

So I was impressed with and pleasantly surprised by a number of Representative Denham's brief opening remarks. Comfortably and informally clad in a sports shirt and casual slacks, Jeff introduced himself and claimed his core identity, setting aside all else, was being the proud father of two. Doctor Laura would have been proud. He discussed his initial organizational accomplishments in our nation's capitol, spoke of possible federal legislation in support of those whose homes had been foreclosed through no fault of their own and even, when questioned about "New Deal" legislation under Franklin Delano Roosevelt in the '30's, allowed that "make work" projects such as the Civilian Conservation Corp just might make lots of sense today. And, bless him, Congressman Denham even categorically stated that he wasn't sure America was on the right path with all three of our current "wars". He said they lack specific goals and policy purpose. Amen!

Then things started spinning a whole different way, pure fiction being woven into purported fact before our very eyes and ears. Jeff had clearly taken TEA with his luncheon tri-tip. It hit hard and heavy.

Ignoring historic weather data courtesy of Mother Nature, Jeff told our Oakhurst bunch that California's "man-made drought" should be ended because of this year's "200 percent of normal" snowfall in the Sierra, the highest estimated figure I've seen being impressive, but significantly less. Then came Congressman Denham's allegation that President Obama is not telling the truth when he says that the United States has only 2% of the world's oil reserves when it's really a cool 65%. I googled it. Barack's pretty much right, although some sources say it may be as high as 2.4%. Not even the entire Middle East has 65%.

Warmed up, Denham then launched into Koch brothers approved, Karl Rove sanctioned, right wing rhetoric straight out of the Ayn Rand lunacy bin. Cut government spending. Stay in your station. Cut government spending. Kill not the King's deer. Cut government spending. Bow to your betters. Cut government spending. Let flow an ocean of unchallenged, unabated, constant repetition to drown out all other voices, particularly those of the sane.

"We must cut corporate taxes to create jobs", said our novice Congressman, praising the "New Republican 2012 Budget" even as it lowers taxes on the richest among us, destroys Social Security as we know it and kills Medicare for all under 55, a group which has faithfully contributed to the program ever since their very first day at work.

Among concluding comments, Jeff made the usual cliched promise to "take our country back" without mentioning why or from whom, emphasized the need for a "different" Republican party than that of honored American tradition and promised to do all he could not to raise the Federal Debt Ceiling — damn the torpedoes — full greed ahead.

We have reached a definitive point as a people. Our collective future is taking form. Only history may finally and objectively judge our father of two — even as this grandfather of eleven wishes him well. And wisdom.

Chapter Thirty -- "Just Days and Counting!"

Howard Camping is an 89 year-old civil engineer who says we have just a few days left. Then it's Armageddon — the end of the world. Don't start packing. He's been wrong before.

Mr. Camping, heard regularly on Christian radio station 91.5 FM with a tower on Deadwood, claims Judgment Day will commence at 3 PM Pacific on Saturday — May 21, 2011. He says he's getting that straight from God as revealed in the Holy Scriptures and promises he won't screw up like last time when he swore the Apocalypse would kick off on September 6, 1994. That day came and went without much happening at all — except actor Jackson Pinckney was awarded $487,000 for being partially blinded by Jean-Claude Van Damme during filming of "Cyborg" and Aerosmith, Lisa Marie & Michael Jackson shared top honors at the 11th Annual MTV Awards, both events evidently not referenced in biblical prophesy.

Mr. Camping insists on his "Family Radio Network" that great earthquakes will shake the Earth that Saturday and continue through Oct. 21st as believers will be called to the heavens and the unrepentant will be thrown to the ground and shamed. Like in Ultimate Fighting.

Most faithful Christians dismiss Camping as embarrassingly errant, even as the Morning Order of Prayer in ancient Roman Catholic liturgy clearly states, "As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen." But this hasn't stopped Camping and his happy Campingers from putting up billboards coast to coast proclaiming May 21st is Doomsday, adding that "The Bible Guarantees It!" Camping has tens of thousands of true believers, but some folks will believe anything. Anything at all – even the wildest of truly whacky ideas.

As of today, May 19, 2011, here's what I consider –

This Week's Top Ten Craziest Notions Floating around the Central Valley:

(1) The world will end Saturday. Nope. It won't even slow down on its 60,000 mile an hour trip around the Sun. Get out your stop watch.

(2) "ObamaCare" exists. There's no such thing — just changes in Federal law falling far, far short of health insurance for all. Keep your eyes on the State of Vermont. The legislature there has approved Universal Health Coverage, i.e., coverage for all. In 1791, Vermont was the first State in the Union to outlaw slavery. Vermont was also the first State to mint a copper penny (1785), first to see victory during the Revolutionary War in the Battle of Fort Ticonderoga (1775) and first to photograph a snowflake (1885). I thought everything cool started in California.

(3) Taxing the rich kills jobs. But it might kill idle financial speculation that's costing us four bucks a gallon for gas — a fortune with every fill-up.

(4) An increase in the Federal Debt Ceiling will be treasonous without slashing programs for the poor and powerless. I agree with the late Kurt Vonnegut. He wrote, "I despise Social Darwinism."

(5) Social Security is broke. It's not. Social Security is entirely solvent and will pay full benefits at least through 2042. The nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office even projects that Social Security may pay all benefits through 2052 with no changes whatsoever.

(6) Medicare must be replaced with private insurance purchased from "for profit" corporations. Or, yeah? Not if seniors have their say, especially our "seniors of tomorrow."

(7) Abortion Rights, Same Sex Marriage, Collective Bargaining, Gays in the Military and other social issues, many thought to have been long since resolved, are a more important pressing priority than jobs, the economy and bringing our troops home. D'oh!

(8) Even though bin Laden is as dead as disco,"The War on Terror" stays alive and well. Osama sleeps with the fishes. GAME OVER!

(9) Like Fox News, our current U.S. Supreme Court is fair and balanced. Can you say "Citizens United?" Corporations are legally complete human beings with the same rights, protection and privileges as any of us? Except maybe jury duty? Or military service? Or paying taxes?

(10) The Great Wall of Coarsegold will be fixed to everyone's complete satisfaction so not a single soul will remain concerned about the whole darn hill crashing down on Highway 41 at the height of rush hour traffic. Hmmmmm. Maybe that's something NO ONE believes. Not even Howard Camping.

But with the world ending, why worry?

Chapter Thirty-One -- "Crazy Days? Straight Ahead!"

"Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. Those days of soda and pretzels and beer."

Nat "King" Cole — Summer 1963

And Romney and Ryan and Boehner and Newt – and Trump and Palin and Bachman to boot! "

We are entering a mean season.

Citizens of New York's 26th Congressional District elected Republican Christopher Lee to office in November of 2010 (only seven months ago) with an astounding 76% of the vote over his Democratic opponent. Then Representative Lee took off his shirt and trolled for trollops on Craig's List, a career move with public revelation leading to panicked resignation. Thank goodness for Republicans that New York's 26th is traditionally known as one of the safest G.O.P. strongholds in the entire country. But, wait! What do we see?

Thanks to Wisconsin's Paul Ryan, "Murderer of Medicare", last week's special election in the 26th saw Democratic candidate Kathy Hochul engineer a stunning defeat over Republican Jane Corwin by an amazing 47% to 42%. Every poll taken indicates without question that the House-approved attempt to kill Medicare as we know it, enthusiastically endorsed by Ms. Corwin until the last minute, was the singular deciding factor in an historic and virtually immediate, quake-like voter swing resulting in Ms. Hochul's election.

Ryan's Path to Prosperity = Political Suicide.

And yet Jeff Denham and every other Republican representative of the House, along with 40 similarly configured, ideologically driven Republican Senators, appear locked in a mindless, lemming-like march off a cliff of horrifyingly ill-conceived conviction, powerless to defy their invisible puppet masters.

I just don't get it.

Back in that lazy, crazy summer of 1963, the top rate for personal Federal Income Taxes for the fortunately blessed was 91%, now slashed over time to 35%. All in all, Federal taxes for 2011 are the lowest in sixty years — since the end of World War Two.

The rich have not only gotten richer in recent decades. Elected surrogates have been brilliantly successful in blaming "Big Government" for the prolonged economic execution of America's Middle Class. Even more sinister is the ever accelerating abolishment of social programs by the score and abandonment of any affirmative recognition of hard-won, long-accepted, time-honored commitments to a prosperous collective future in a thriving, vibrant, national union.

I would hope our President will now display the same courage, confidence and conviction which won him unparalleled praise from even his harshest critics in the bin Laden finale by — taking on the takers. They have a lot to give back. Let's boogie with these bullet points:

* Any retreat on maintaining and bolstering Medicare/Medicaid as we know it will be unforgivable.

* Federal taxes must be increased by a full 10% on all net personal income above $250,000.

* Capital Gains should be moved upward to 35%.

* Investment in social programs curtailed by or eliminated through "budget cuts" should be restored at the soonest and increased thereafter as circumstances allow, i.e., when the rich again start paying their full fair share.

* Let's bring home our troops from Iraq, Afghanistan and all those other places where American ground presence has become, in this age of deadly drones, an expensive, outmoded, completely unnecessary anachronism.

* The Republican Party of 2011 has been hijacked by precocious pretenders funded by an oligarchical cabal seeking eventual repeal of the whole New Deal. Then they'll get serious. This threat should be met with the responsive severity it deserves.

* Washington lobbying should be enormously curtailed, if not completely eliminated as a formal enterprise. Why not? In most civilized societies, prostitution is illegal. Let's write that up NOW. Then it's on to "Medicare for All."

* A Constitutional Amendment should be initiated aimed at overturning the Supreme Court's horrid decision in "Citizens United" granting corporations "person" status in matters of free speech. Right now, it's open season with major money ever more bold to keep us controlled.

* Under the Commerce Clause of the Constitution, Federal legislation should be drafted and approved eliminating bidding between states offering competing, ever escalating tax breaks for corporations and other "divide and conquer" opportunities for the insatiable elite.

And let's not be shy about sharing our concerns with others, particularly those beginning to realize that cries of "taking our country back" has been leaving out the last two words:

"To 1900!"

Chapter Thirty-Two -- "The Eeensy-Weensy Weiner"

If Representative Anthony Weiner (D-NY) has yet to resign his office as you read these words, he's later than this year's truncated Sierra Spring and miserably more disappointing.

I realize Republican counterparts in matters of sexual folderol are as numerous as fleas on Fluffy — Christopher Lee (R-NY), Mark Souder (R- Indiana), Larry Craig (R-Indiana), David Vitter (R-Louisiana), Mark Sanford (R-South Carolina), John Ensign (R-Nevada), Gary Condit (R-California), Chip Pickering (R-Mississippi), Mark Foley (R-Florida), Ed Shrock (R-Virginia), Bob Barr (R-Georgia), and our own Sperminator (R-California) being the first dozen instantly springing to mind, pardon the expression.

The fact that many of these rascals were able to remain in office for varying lengths of time despite extended public humiliation has nothing to do with the rights or wrongs of their behavior. Citing such instances in defense of Weiner, even referencing Bill Clinton's successful survival in the Oval Office with a severely stained reputation, offers nothing more than the absurd notion that getting away with something creates irrefutably established collective sanction – like stealing second base. I suggest Representative Weiner's reprehensible conduct introduces a whole new ball game.

We find that dirty old man in a raincoat now miraculously replaced by a cleaner Weiner on a Blackberry, suddenly graced through advanced technology with the remarkable capability of instant digital exposure on a global scale. Ooops. Excuse me. I'm having a Jethro Tull flashback. Poor old Aqualung. "Sitting on a park bench. Eyeing little girls with bad intent." But this time Representative Weiner is the "dead duck", whether he knows it or not.

Weiner freely (and finally) acknowledges that he shared certain  "messages and photos of an explicit nature with about six women over the last three years."

Responding to a specific concern expressed in an ill-advised 29 minute long question and answer session following his initial June 6th confession, Representative Weiner embarrassingly admitted he could not guarantee that one or more of his flashing photos might not have been received by a young girl under the age of legal consent, a turn of events offering felonious potential. Consider who's been hurt. Setting aside obvious casualties, including his pregnant wife, confused constituents and a stunned staff, Anthony Weiner has destroyed all credibility as a champion of progressive thought even as we approach the most critical tipping point in our nation's political history — a hero horribly unhinged.

Here are more victimized pieces of Weiner's broken luck:

50 million Americans are still without basic health insurance.

One out of every four of our children remain hungry each night.

A new Rasmussen poll shows a Congressional approval rating plummeting to less than ten percent — tying an all time low as Republicans cheer a 9.1 % unemployment rate — believing that blocking economic recovery is their best way to beat Obama in 2012.

Two billion dollars a week continues to drain our Treasury for "absolutely nothing" — this being the late Edwin Starr's 1969 evaluation of WAR, a conclusion brilliant in its time and even truer yet today.

We keep getting robbed on gas prices, food costs and new "fee surcharges" on everything that walks, crawls, flies, stands, or just sits there like a bump on a log or a hump on a frog. Speaking of which, my disgust with Representative Weiner has much less to do with his sexual proclivities than the utter abandonment of responsibility on every level evident in his actions — substituting inspired leadership with perspiring lechery — followed by the most functionally fatal act of all — lying about it again and again and again and again — even directly to the President in a private conversation. In this and other failings, Weiner has added far too heavy a load of harmful personal baggage to remain a viable spokesperson for enlightened change.

Tony! We believed you! You betrayed our trust! But most of all, you have turned out to be a real creep — even creepier than that eensy-weensy spider crawling up a water spout.

I hope that you are out.

Chapter Thirty-Three \-- "The Sirens of Coarsegold"

I herein offer full public confession.

The only true hero to whom I pledge unyielding allegiance and unqualified endorsement is the late American science fiction author/genius/philosopher/poet/crazy man Kurt Vonnegut (1922 – 2007).

Private First Class Vonnegut was behind enemy lines during the Rhineland Campaign in the final days of World War Two when he was captured by Wehrmacht troops and became a prisoner of war. Vonnegut and his fellow POWs reached a Dresden work camp where they were imprisoned in an underground slaughterhouse known by German soldiers as "Schlachthof Fünf."

On the evening of February 13, 1945, a series of Allied firebombing raids reduced Dresden, the "Florence of the Elbe", to a fiery inferno, killing as many as 135,000 Germans — primarily women, children and the elderly. It was the single most destructive bombing of the war—including Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Little, if anything, was accomplished militarily, since the Germans were already on the verge of surrender. It was an act purely punitive in nature, which is why one never hears much about it on this side of the Atlantic. Ironically, Private Vonnegut and his fellow prisoners emerged physically unscathed among a handful of survivors, having been protected by their prison bunker several levels beneath the ground.

Spiritually, Vonnegut was changed forever, later recounting the horrors of war and survival in "Slaughterhouse Five." I never knew about Dresden until I saw the film version in 1972 — when I also discovered Vonnegut.

But more than a dozen years earlier, while still unknown, Kurt Vonnegut wrote "The Sirens of Titan", a book later described by Esquire Magazine as "his best book", adding, "Vonnegut dares not only to ask the ultimate question about the meaning of life, but to answer it." The story is a fabulous trip, spinning madly through space and time. Jerry Garcia bought movie rights. The Central Valley Tea Party's forthcoming "Family Freedom Fest" next Monday on the Fourth of July in Coarsegold brings "The Sirens of Titan" to mind, "Sirens" being, in classical literature, beautiful sea maidens with overpowering attraction impossible to resist. In Homer's "The Odyssey", the Sirens sing a song so captivating that none can hear it and escape. Not even Bart, Marge, Lisa or Maggie.

Similarly, the "Family Freedom Fest" has signs all over promoting "Old Fashioned Patriotism and Family Fun", "Free Children's Activities", "Bounce Houses", "Water Slides", "Crafts", "Food", "Historic Costumes", "Music", Young Patriots' Booth and Activities", a "Children's Performance", "Melodrama Honoring Veterans and Active Military", "Nashville recording artist Linda Lanier" and "Inspiring Speakers." "A Free Community Event!"

It certainly sounds like a fine old time and I fully intend to attend, just as I did last year when a similar Tea Party event was held in Oakhurst Community Park. There's everything to be honored and respected in well-founded patriotism, national celebration of hard-won freedoms and justifiably proud flag waving on the Fourth of July or any other American day. It's the "Inspiring Speakers" part of the program that brings those Sirens of Titan to mind — a sharp, stabbing hook at the end of all that lovely red, white and blue bait.

As the 400 wealthiest people in our Country own more than the bottom one hundred and fifty million of us, recent Tea Party talk of "Government run health care", "our Socialist President" and, especially, "Union thugs trying to organize WALMART" are starting to reveal a deeper, darker, brilliantly manipulated nature from way, way up above, but hardly heavenly.

In "The Odyssey", King Odysseus escapes The Sirens by having himself tied to the mast of his ship and the crews' ears plugged up with beeswax. In "The Sirens of Titan" our protagonist, Malachi Constant, uses The Sirens in an advertisement for cigarettes, attempting to mitigate their frightening beauty through blatant commercialism.

Around here, The Sirens of Coarsegold will be countered by the Oakhurst Democratic Forum on Saturday, July 23rd, at River Creek Golf Course on Road 600 in Ahwahnee with a public showing of "The Billionaires' Tea Party: How Corporate America is Faking a Grassroots Revolution", a 54 minute documentary by Australian filmmaker Taki Oldham. I like what Rob Williams wrote about it: "Regardless of your political leanings, Oldham thoughtfully details how modern political propaganda works in our culture, and ought to be required viewing." Jeff Eisinger, Professor of Sociology at Reedley College, will be on the scene to lead an open discussion on various issues presented. $10.00 tickets for dinner at 5:30 are available at 559-658-5227, while the 7 PM program is absolutely free of charge to all, regardless of party affiliation or preference.

Hoping to see you in Coarsegold AND Ahwahnee, please allow me to close with this Happy Fourth of July quote from Kurt Vonnegut in "The Sirens of Titan":

"Every passing hour brings the Solar System forty-three thousand miles closer to Globular Cluster M13 in Hercules— and still there are some misfits who insist that there is no such thing as progress."

Chapter Thirty-Four -- "No Breaks For Barack"

"If we should ever separate, my little plum, I want to give you just one bit of fatherly advice: Never give a sucker an even break!" W. C. Fields — "Poppy"— 1936

You have to hand it to the G.O.P.

They knew a sucker when they saw one.

There they were the morning of November 5, 2008, facing a newly elected Democratic President, Democrats outnumbering Republicans in the House (257 to 178) and Senate (58 to 41) with political pundits pronouncing their party more endangered than Delta smelt.

But since assuming office on January 20, 2009, President Barack Obama has folded like a lawn chair — a paper hat — a cheap suit — metaphors abound — and he's done it time and time again. Elected through his soaring campaign rhetoric of, "Yes, we can!," it now seems clear that he can't — or –worse—-he won't.

Barack Obama wasted his first two years of Democratic majorities in both houses of Congress to such a disenchanting extent that more than half the youth vote which elected him stayed home last November, resulting in an historic electoral swing to the right.

If the legendary "Urban Cowboy" was — "Big Hat — No Horse!" — Our President has defined himself as — "Big Talk — No Walk!"

We remain the only nation in the entire industrialized world without some form of universal health care for its citizens. Obama caved early on this one, even refusing to put a "single- payer" proposal on the table at the outset of negotiations. A single-payer system of health care would largely cut insurers out of the process, permitting government to be the sole payer of health care claims by consumers and providers and eliminating a profit motive, saving billions in the process.

We now witness the most uneven distribution of wealth between rich and poor in our history on the planet, virtually the worst inequity anywhere among free governments. Obama tossed away elimination of tax breaks for the rich and private corporations at the end of last year for little in return except an extension of emergency assistance to the unemployed, haughtily defined by Republicans at the time as a thoroughly questionable expenditure. He traded a cake for a cookie.

As unionism in general and collective bargaining in particular have come under bitter attack by State governments in Wisconsin, Ohio, Michigan and elsewhere, our President has remained disturbingly disengaged.

An insatiable American War Machine — that "Military – Industrial Complex" President Eisenhower warned us about in 1961– IS NOW ADDING FOURTEEN BILLION DOLLARS A WEEK TO OUR NATIONAL DEBT. President Obama has limited military withdrawal from Afghanistan to a minimal level against former promises and now entertains the notion of leaving significant troops in Iraq past a deadline pledged by his predecessor, George the Conqueror. Then there's Libya.

Alan Cheah, my "For Your Consideration" colleague, bets "that 99% of Tea Party members do not belong to the social circles being protected by (Eric) Cantor and (Jon) Kyl". Both of these dangerous dudes have been dangling all of us over a potentially deadly economic abyss to avoid any tax increases on the truly well off.

For that matter, I have never heard any Tea Party patriot defending those obscene banking practices which threw us into a deep recession in September of 2008 or the "banksters" who profited before, during and after everything collapsed around us. 2011 will be their best year yet. This debacle remains functionally unaddressed by President Obama and a bought and paid for Congress. There have been no meaningful changes in Federal Law since the bottom dropped out, even as hundreds of corporate criminals are heavily rewarded, yet are still uncharged – let alone unpunished.

Ironically, with their deep embracement of the U.S. Constitution, Tea Party folks may even come to our rescue in early August by observing that the 14th Amendment clearly states: "The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law, including debts incurred for payment of pensions and bounties for services in suppressing insurrection or rebellion, shall not be questioned." There is no need for a "debt ceiling" referenced anywhere in the document, especially regarding interest payments on current obligations already "authorized by law".

The richest 1 percent of Americans now take home almost 24 percent of income, up from less than 9 percent in 1976. From 1980 to 2005, more than four-fifths of the total increase in American incomes went to the richest 1 percent.

For any practical purpose, that top 1% of our population now own and operate the United States of America. If you're in the bottom 99%? They believe they run YOU.

And they're certainly exercising a frightening degree of demonstrable control over our Chief Executive, whose earnest inclination to conciliate at any cost against the interests of the American middle class is leading us to Seriously Unfair, Commons Killing, Economic Ruin.

And that spells S -U- C -K- E -R.

Chapter Thirty-Five -- "Let Her Be An Everlasting Light"

I was first introduced to Elizabeth Warren in Michael Moore's "Capitalism: A Love Story."

At the time, Ms. Warren was chair of a Congressional Oversight Panel created to oversee the U.S. banking bail out involving hundreds of billions of taxpayer dollars. When Michael asked her in the film "where the money went", she candidly replied with genuine frustration and refreshing candor, "I don't know" — a question which remains largely unanswered to this day.

A seemingly perfect choice to develop and oversee a new Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, Elizabeth Warren was named a a senior adviser to President Barack Obama and Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner on September 17, 2010, since then earning the nickname "Sheriff of Wall Street" and ruffling more than a few feathers outside and inside the Obama Administration.

On Thursday, July 14th, while testifying before a congressional panel, Warren questioned the scope of state and federal investigations into alleged mortgage abuses and "illegal" foreclosures perpetrated by the nation's largest mortgage companies, marking the first time a senior White House official publicly broke ranks with the President over the issue and raising fresh questions about the wisdom of the government's rush to settle with the firms.

She testified that government agencies may not have sufficiently investigated claims that borrowers' homes were illegally seized by banks such as JPMorgan Chase, Bank of America, Wells Fargo, Citigroup and Ally Financial.

Four days later, on Monday, July 18th, President Obama announced Warren was being passed over as his choice to become permanent Director of the very organization she had conceived and created, instead choosing to nominate Warren's second-in-command, former Ohio Attorney General Richard Cordray, thus caving in to those who view Elizabeth Warren as being far, far too serious in her quest for meaningful banking regulations and reform.

While this decision may well open the door for Ms. Warren to run for the Senate next year in Massachusetts against Scott Brown, surprise inheritor of Ted Kennedy's old seat, Obama's latest reluctance to confront the GOP head on in this instance again seems to signal Presidential timidity at best and incomprehensible capitulation at worst.

In Elizabeth Warren's case, I find myself equally troubled by the President's choice of such Wall Street tainted advisors as Geithner, Larry Summers, Bill Daily and others, who may well have felt themselves under Warren's scrutiny to an uncomfortable degree in her attempts to shed serious light on shifty shenanigans.

But I am most heartened by Ms. Warren's words to the Huffington Post in graciously commenting on Cordray's appointment:

"I'm not taking my eye off those who want to cripple this agency. We got this agency by fighting, we stood it up by fighting, and, if takes more fighting to keep it strong and independent, then we can do it."

Perhaps the day may come when a Senator Warren might become a President Warren. She already has her gloves on.

Everlasts! They don't come in lace!

Chapter Thirty-Six -- "These Dog Days of Summer"

From the Merriam-Webster Free Dictionary:

"Woofed"

"Past tense of woof — (Verb)

1. Bark of a dog.

2. To say something in an ostentatious or aggressive manner, but with no intention to act."

With the nation held hostage once again, our President blinked. Abandoning other viable options, he caved. Embarrassing himself and supporters in full global view, he was wonderfully woofed by Speaker Goofy and the gang, all of whom had repeatedly gone on record guaranteeing they wouldn't do what Obama feared they might. They started pretending and he began bending. They woofed and it worked.

As the House of Representatives went first in voting on "The Budget Control Act of 2011" with only hours to go before an artificial, arbitrary "deadline", Democrats tied at 95 to 95 while Republicans overwhelmingly approved the measure 174 to 66. Then the whole Senate rolled over with confirmation at 74 to 26 and the measure was sent to the White House for a presidential signing strikingly devoid of ceremony or celebration. Behind the scratch of his pen, I believe I heard those classic crickets.

The Economic Policy Institute, a highly accredited nonpartisan think tank, estimates that the devil's deal struck August 2nd officially raising the nation's debt limit will end up costing our American economy 1.8 million jobs by the end of next year. And will probably plunge us into further recession/depression/suppression.

In signing the extraordinarily tortured piece of superfluous legislation, President Obama simultaneously announced he is now going to concentrate on the most important immediate priority facing our country — jobs.

This seems the biggest disconnect since Lucy left Desi, Eddie departed Debbie or, for younger readers, since Charlie split from Winona, Bree, Heidi, Robin, Rachel, Brooke, Capri, Denise, Elizabeth Ann, Ginger, Heather, Kacey, Tracy, Kelly, Tamara, Dolly, Melanie, Michelle, Natalie — and others of varying significance.

Meanwhile, Congress, having failed to resolve an issue involving the Federal Aviation Administration, went home and started enjoying a fully paid five week vacation, leaving 75,000 support and construction workers unemployed, including over 400 safety inspectors. House Speaker John Boehner publicly stated the whole problem could be resolved immediately in exchange for Democratic concessions on changing a labor rule to make it more difficult for airline workers to unionize. The cost to taxpayers on this newest GOP hostage taking? 200 million dollars a week in lost airline fees or, by the time September arrives, a cool billion bucks gone bye-bye from our Federal Treasury. So much for dealing with the deficit.

For those who might feel the word "hostage" is pure Democratic hyperbole, here are Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell's (R-Kentucky) comments:

"I think some of our members might have thought the default issue was a hostage you might take a chance at shooting. Most of us didn't think that. What we did learn is this -- it's a hostage that's worth ransoming. And it focuses Congress on something that must be done."

You know what? I can't fairly fault good old boy Mitch. What works — works. Decoded?

"This hostage thing is a dog that DOES hunt!"

And there's another old Kentucky saying I've always treasured, herein edited for purposes of propriety in a family newspaper --

""Hostage" me once? Shame on you. "Hostage" me twice? Shame on me!

Blame for such future shame should be properly attributed accordingly, substituting "me" with the collective "us" for any critically necessary future change in which we can truly believe.

In faithfully backing Barack with dog like loyalty, perhaps some of us have been barking up the wrong tree.

Unless he's finally listening.

Chapter Thirty-Seven -- "Autumn Closing In"

Honey Badger Don't Care

"Strange how the night moves – With autumn closing in."

When that deeply poetic lyric line appeared at the very end of Bob Seger's "Night Moves" in 1976, coming out of nowhere from "the back seat of a '60 Chevy", it somehow ignited a powerful, emotionally evocative response across the nation, giving Bob his first "Top 10 Billboard single" — making Seger an "overnight success" after more than fifteen years playing Michigan barn bashes, bars and Bar Mitzvahs.

We all seemed to get it — a sweetly poignant, nostalgic reflection on the inviolate passion of teenage years and the inevitable passage of time.

There's again a certain wild rushing in the wind – a softly aching, sighing surrender to the insistence of change as night stretches over us in ever expanding return.

Things are blowing cold.

Congress is frozen as almost never before in the icy grip of a hardhearted Conservative core sworn to protect the interests of manipulative masters, convinced that their pledge to "starve the beast" through "no more taxes" will ultimately prove patriotic — blind to the blatantly nihilistic nature of their exercise.

While a sitting President ponders how such extraordinary efforts to compromise, even at the risk of shattering his own political base, could be so savagely rejected, would-be successors compete for the honor of most contentious class clown.

Consider:

\+ Michele Bachmann wishing Elvis "Happy Birthday" on the 34th Anniversary of his Death, even as she offered Christian testimony that "submission" means exactly the same thing as "respect", a definition Biblically errant by any theological standard.

\+ Rick Perry, an astounding, squat little clone of George W. Bush and Yosemite Sam, negatively questioning "Evolution", "Global Warming", The Federal Reserve" and "Abortion Rights" all in the same breath — while chomping away on a quarter pound of deep fried Iowa State Fair butter on a stick.

\+ Mitt Romney — at that same Fair — insisting with a straight face that corporations ARE people and ALL the money corporations earn go right back down to everyone else, especially me and you. Mine must still be in the mail.

\+ Herman Cain — maintaining his obsessive fear of Muslims in general and "creeping Shariah law" in particular, even with triple cheese and double pepperoni.

\+ Rick Santorum — echoing the Pizza Man's Islamophobia, but adding gays and Same Sex Marriage as particular targets of sanctimonious scorn.

\+ Tim Pawlenty — offering plenty of platitudes, then getting out fast while the getting was good when he finally noticed no one was noticing him.

\+ Ron Paul being — Ron Paul — a curious combination of brilliant insight (getting our military out of Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya and just about everywhere else) and baffling lunacy — shrinking our Federal Government to the size of gnat, then having his son, Rand, swallow it.

\+ Newt Gingrich — a true loser — losing once again with such absurd observations as "Any ad which quotes what I said Sunday is a falsehood."

\+ John Huntsman — abandoning a perfectly fine job as U.S. Ambassador to China to be completely ignored by everyone who counts, since John's thoughts seem far too, as Sarah Palin might say, "thinky."

\+ And Sarah, herself, whose biographical tour de farce, "The Undefeated", was this summer's biggest box office flop, raking in a total of $175,000 before being quickly pulled from theaters.

So does this writer have any answers?

Sure!

Is Smokey the Bear Catholic? Does the Pope sleep in the park?

Barack Obama should come out of his conciliatory closet like a Honey Badger in heat and demand that Congress enact sweeping historic legislation in a "New Age New Deal" — with hundreds of billions invested in infrastructure, education, and jobs, jobs, jobs — all surely called for by provisions in our Federal Constitution guaranteeing the promotion of general welfare.

The cost of such extensive spending should be born by long overdue revisions in the Federal tax code, final abandonment of the "Bush Tax Cuts", withdrawal of our troops from harm's way in Africa, Afghanistan and the Middle East, and a return to Eisenhower Era levels of taxation for the wealthiest among us. Such actions would also offer heavy positive impact in addressing current deficits and ultimately providing a balanced budget, as we last enjoyed under Democratic President Bill Clinton.

As such proposals undoubtedly would become immediate fresh fodder for unrestrained, uncompromising Republican rejection, they would also instantly provide a framework for true critical change, compensating for our current motivational malaise and becoming the basis for Obama's reelection next year.

There's nothing to it — but to do it!

Go, Honey Badger, GO!

Chapter Thirty-Eight -- "Hail! Hail! Rock & Roll!"

("Deliver Me From The Days of Old")

"School Days" - Chuck Berry \- 1957

In 1977, my mother, wife and four daughters spent one Saturday morning cleaning my apartment near WTAC as I slept on a couch. I didn't actually live there most of the time, but was quite convincing in establishing a critical need for quiet – a separate space for creative efforts away from the distraction of family frenzy. It was also lovely having a party zone for entertaining countless friends and strangers at closing time. Propriety and common sense suggest no need for further elaboration. The fact is, however, that I actually did write a few things over the six months "Peter's Play Pen" rocked and rollicked.

Thirty years later in 2007 following our move to Oakhurst, I uncovered five handwritten, single-spaced legal pads filled with fanciful froth, stashed away in an old cardboard box — forgotten like a buried beagle.

Here is the distillation of six months' frolic:

"The embracement of Rock 'n Roll music centers everything.

Although one can be locked into a situation or system which prohibits spiritual or philosophical extension beyond defined perimeters, enclosures exist even more to keep the unendorsed out than they do to preserve the approved. A willful decision to accept erroneously formulated notions as personal judgment is self-imposed confinement. You are your own jailer. The key to free is a single thought away. "

This I believe.

But in this world, people believe almost anything. Anything at all.

Blame it on the attraction of distraction. Hard answers aren't easily found and it's tempting to settle for not quite enough.

An ABC News Survey reports that 91% of Americans say they believe in God. That's the right thing to do. It seems safe to conjecture that a similar percentage would condemn strangling orphans, eating hair or drinking Draino, while affirming Motherhood, Brotherhood and, for Social Progressives, Robin Hood. These things, if of lesser importance, enjoy similar propriety. Yet that of the most relevance is least and last understood. Around the world, tens of millions have died for that of which they actually know next to nothing, "belief" placing a definable, perilous limitation on knowledge. Such universal martyrs have been on all sides, in all places, at all times – tragically ubiquitous.

Did you know we'll all be naked in Heaven? That's how Michelangelo saw things. Angels at all angles!

"My soul can find no staircase to heaven unless it be through earth's loveliness" — Buonarroti Michelangelo- (1504)

Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel masterpiece in the Vatican heart of Roman Catholicism was a swirling, twirling batch of bare bodies, fig leaves added only in later times to spare the blushes of Catholic clergy. Buonarroti Michelangelo is generally considered the creator of the Renaissance, an era that followed the Middle Ages and preceded the Reformation, roughly the 14th through the 16th century. Its primary feature was the revival of intellectual exploration through the advancement of science.

Here's e-mail from Michael Moore – whom I unleashed upon an unsuspecting public over Flint radio stations in the late '70's.

"Peter! I just had this weird cool thought. I don't think any of us realize just how momentous the whole time was and not just in the context of -- "Oh, wow! That was "The '60's!" — I honestly believe that historians and anthropologists will look at our time the way we look at The Renaissance and that these moments only occur every few hundred years."

I agree with my friend Mike, whose latest book, "Here Comes Trouble" is being released this week. He'll be signing copies up in San Francisco tomorrow and Saturday (9/16 & 9/17) and down in LA next Tuesday (9/20.)

There's more about Michael and Flint and Rock & Roll through the years at WildWednesday.com.

Chapter Thirty-Nine -- "Tough Cookie Truckin'"

Cindy Sheehan & Local DJ

"The mountains and the canyons start to tremble and shake — as the children of the sun begin — to awake." (Led Zeppelin –"Going to California" — 1971)

With "Occupy Wall Street!" dominating headlines as thousands rally nationwide and millions wonder why, I've been thinking about Cindy Sheehan all week long.

She's one tough cookie.

I couldn't believe it when I heard Cindy was coming to Oakhurst.

Of course, Oakhurst — being a CDP ("Census Designated Place") with 2,829 souls — is a major metropolitan area compared to Crawford, Texas. Crawford had a rounded-up total of no more than 800 Texans, a trillion cattle and a monkey named George when Ms. Sheehan set up her antiwar camp outside his ranch and became a global phenomenon in August of 1995.

And so it was that The Positive Life Center on Golden Oak Drive was filled with folks –wall to wall — standing room only — for four solid hours on Sunday, August 28th. It was exciting, amazing and inspiring.

Four days later – on Thursday, Sept. 1st — a handful of demonstrators were met with police intimidation while performing a peaceful and legal occupation of a public sidewalk on Wall Street in New York. On September 17th, approximately 2,000 marched on the Financial District. Becoming a daily event, within a week the big city crowd count doubled -then doubled again.

Here in tiny Oakhurst, perhaps the most striking aspect of Cindy Sheehan's visit was her ability to draw such an amazing assembly of truly cool people from our immediate mountain area on very short notice. The crowd almost seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, just as that handful of the dispossessed and foreclosed did a few days later on Wall Street. Ms. Sheehan was here concluding a ten-day bus tour promoting "Re-Creating Revolutionary Communities" (REVCOM). This brief quote from Cindy at her website sums it up nicely:

"Recent events in the U.S., which amount to financial terrorism by the elite, have demonstrated that Democracy with a Capital D is officially DOA, and We the People can face a scary future assured that we will survive, because we can build communities that foster peace, health, the environment, and prosperity."

Crazy hippie talk? Some sort of a wild anarchistic '60's acid flashback? Doesn't Cindy Sheehan realize it's 2011 and the banks own us all?

HAH!

From North Fork was the Friendship Circle of Grace Community Church, the Kern family with their Farm and School Garden, the North Fork Art Gallery, the Up Country Co-op, the Sustainable Forest and Committees Collaboration, Three Springs, The Yosemite Sequoia Resource Conservation and Development Council, Cash Mob, the North Fork Studio and the intriguing North Fork Shares project.

Mariposa sent representatives from Mariposa Spirit, the Mariposa Peace Vigil and those from Mariposa involved in pursuing the continued development of electric cars, even as Cindy's old bus parked across the street is bio fuel powered as an example to everyone but Rick Perry.

Oakhurst attendees included Full Circle Family Outreach, Judy DeRosa's Creativity Circle, Marianna Burrett of Tend the Earth, Barney Berrier speaking on Alternative Energy, Peace Fresno, and legendary blues artist Jimmy Collier.

Cindy Sheehan sat and listened from start to finish, frequently nodding her head with enthusiastic endorsement and powerful affirmation. At the end of it all, she spoke.

Cindy told us of losing a son and her belief that the American Dream is long gone — if it ever was. She discussed the importance of true community, pleased that her presence had drawn so many kindred spirits. Espousing social justice and sustainable development, she challenged us to focus on the potentials of collective activity for common local good.

The Irish have a name for such a notion: "Sinn Fein" — "We Ourselves."

I liked Cindy a lot. She's very much for real. In this age of unbridled hyperbolic hysteria on the right and tragically compromised conviction on the left, Cindy Sheehan just keeps on truckin'.

As should all Patriotic Americans — "Together — more or less in line."*

Chapter Forty -- "Occupy in the Sky?"

Joe Hill

(October 7, 1879 - November 19, 1915

We've been engaged in class warfare these last thirty years. Guess what? We lost!

That 1% vs. 99% split is finally getting the front page attention it deserves.

The top one percent of Americans currently scoop up a quarter of our nation's income every year. They now own and control over forty percent of everything. That's the largest disparity between rich and poor among all industrialized nations of the earth, even as U.S. citizens privately pay ever escalating costs for health care, higher education and anything else our flag waving, cliché clattering, democracy dismantling forces of the far right can "privatize". The "Free World" is turning out to be not that free after all.

Can't pay? Go away!

We've been had.

Senior citizens watch Fox News in an earnest effort to receive "fair and balanced" coverage, a continuing lie as big as Joseph Goebbels' best.

Bill O'Reilly fans? Greta Groupies? Hannity-Homies? Do Bill/Sean/Gloria ever mention that a good part of your now tax free Social Security income will be subject to that 9% "Federal Sales Tax" in Squirmin' Herman's "9-9-9" fantasy? Or that Mitt Romney fits the exact clinical definition of a pathological liar? Or that "Medicare for All" would cover everyone, reduce costs by a full third and ultimately provide far better care than we now receive paying twice the price for half as much? And Fox sure hates those kids of ours "Occupying" Wall Street and just about every other place you look.

"Misfits!" "They should get a job!" Even "dope smoking hippies" is back in vogue amongst the badly bewildered. But particularly significant is the general Fox insistence that "They don't even know what they want — just "pie in the sky!" — a phrase dating back to 1911. "Pie in the sky?"

I find myself persuaded this cannot be true.

Joe Hill was born on October 7, 1879. He was a Swedish-American Labor Activist, songwriter, and member of the Industrial Workers of the World –also know as "Wobblies." Praised by the poor, feared by the rich, politically condemned and falsely accused, Hill was executed by firing squad on November 19, 1915.

His last word?

"Fire!"

"Pie in the sky" first appeared in Hill's "The Preacher and the Slave", which parodied the Salvation Army hymn "In the Sweet Bye and Bye." Hill took issue with the Army's concentration on the salvation of souls rather than the feeding of the hungry. The expression faded through subsequent years and began emerging again during World War Two when it started being used figuratively to refer to any prospect of future happiness which was unlikely to ever be realized.

"Pie in the sky?" Nope. And forget "Bye and Bye!" We're looking at "Here and Now" — just as soon as everyone stops playing puppet and starts paying attention.

Move over Bank of America, J.P. Morgan Chase, Citigroup, Wells Fargo and Goldman Sachs. There's something happening here — a new sheriff in town — an additional player in your exquisitely exclusive group.

Behold — in all its myriad manifestations –"The Occupation!"

Because — as you — it has become far too big to fail.

City to city! Coast-to-coast! Oakhurst to Wall Street!

OCCUPY!

"I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night, alive as you and me. Says I, "But Joe, you're ten years dead" "I never died" said he, "I never died" said he."

(Earl Robinson — 1936)

Chapter Forty-One -- "Facts Speak Louder Than Words"

I am delighted to report that The Executive Board of the California Democratic Party has, in fact, re-certified The CDP Progressive Caucus by the UNANIMOUS endorsement of E-Board membership with over 200 members present and voting over the weekend of November 18th in Burlingame. Special thanks to Peter Leinau, who drafted our November 5th Oakhurst Resolution, Madera Chair Susan Rowe who coordinated full county wide support, and Les Marsden for spearheading Mariposa County efforts and representing us all in Burlingame.

We are occupying our Party!

And none too soon!

I would presume that most of us have friends, relatives, and particularly unfriendly relatives on the dark side who can't wait to share brilliant bursts of transcendental illumination reflecting the political sophistication of — yes — a —–(wait for it) ——— NEWT!

Allow me to share this brief example I received only minutes ago from a Flint associate now living in luxuriously isolated splendor high above Seal Beach overlooking beautiful downtown La Jolla. Indicated in the "SUBJECT" line is the undeniable assertion– "Facts Speak Louder Than Words!"

Then it said –

"The day the Democrats took over was not January 22nd 2009, it was actually January 3rd 2007, the day the Democrats took over the House of Representatives and the Senate, at the very start of the 110th Congress.

Bush may have been in the car but the Democrats were in charge of the gas pedal and steering wheel they were driving the economy into the ditch.

Furthermore, the Democrats controlled the budget process for 2008 & 2009 as well as 2010 & 2011. And where was Barack Obama during this time? He was a member of that very Congress that passed all of these massive spending bills.

If Obama inherited anything, he inherited it from himself."

You get the picture. This was sent to several dozen folks of similarly addled persuasion. I had a different picture. It was this one — fitting perfectly with "Facts Speak Louder Than Words".

I kept the subject line, erased the rest, hit "Reply To All" and sent it along.

As Will Rogers so aptly summarized, "I belong to no organized party — I´m a Democrat." I herein add — "Unlike most Republicans who goose step to party line under the blighted banner of Grover Norquist."

There has been no Democratic (capital "D") or democratic (small "D") "control of Congress" for quite some time, certainly not in the recent past.

And here are three little words to share with millionaire martinets questioning the "purpose" of those tens of thousands of young, patriotic American "Occupiers" far and wide and, most especially, with all now occupying hierarchal positions of power in the national Democratic Party.

READ THE SIGNS!

They are messages for our future — drafted by the children of today.

— "That government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." (A. Lincoln --1863)

Chapter Forty-Two --"No Hedging on Pledging"

I was pleased and honored when District 5 Supervisor Tom Wheeler unexpectedly passed me his microphone at the start of our last Town Hall Meeting at the Oakhurst Community Center with a request that I lead the packed hall in reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. I trust I acquitted myself reasonably well, although I almost started with a speedy "Sign of the Cross" from my Irish Catholic upbringing, rote memory offering its challenges. But then, our National Pledge of Allegiance has always seemed more of a prayer than a presence – a fierce aspiration more than a finalized achievement – particularly the "Liberty and Justice for All" part. But it's that "Indivisible" word that I worry about these last few years. We are surely more divided now than ever before in my lifetime as a country. But not as a community.

It's an impressive measure of Supervisor Wheeler's dedicated leadership that his quarterly "Town Meetings" here in Oakhurst — and Ahwhanee — and North Fork– and Bass Lake – and now adding Yosemite Lakes Park/Raymond after recent Census adjustments, all combine in uniting Eastern Madera County into a remarkably cohesive political whole.

If you haven't been attending any of these informal, yet informative little get-togethers, you really should.

Our last Oakhurst meeting on November 17th was fairly typical. Tom was not the only County official in attendance presenting himself for public accountability. Sheriff John Anderson was there to discuss a number of issues, from barking dogs and area burglaries to library safety and concerns about the homeless. Cal Fire Chief Nancy Koerperich addressed the red-hot topic of Rural Fire Fees, also discussed through speaker phone by State Assemblywoman Kristin Olsen. Jill Yeager, Director of the Madera County Environmental Health Department, provided an update on septic system regulations, even as Mono Indians representative Charlie Altekruse spoke briefly on the possibility of a new casino on Highway 99 in Madera. You get the idea.

Supervisor Wheeler always works from a prepared agenda, moving things along as rapidly as meaningful discussion allows and closing with a request for questions, comments, criticisms or any other observations from those in the audience with no subject off limits. It's all fairly remarkable and everyone seems to get along, playing well enough together to make our parents proud and former teachers smile.

On the 17th, I chatted with and introduced my wife to local Tea Party Coordinator, John Pero. I waved across the room to Greg Chapell, a Madera County District 5 Republican Committee Member, even as I am on the Board of the Executive Committee of the Democratic Club of Oakhurst. Greg and I share a table most First Fridays for spiffy spaghetti dinners at Our Lady of the Sierra.

I never cease being amazed at how much we all truly share in common and agree upon past all the flag waving, cliché clattering, democracy-dismantling forces of Talk Radio.

We all seem quite together over our concerns regarding "The Great Wall of Coarsegold", the need to realize maximum efficiency and efficacy throughout County operations in the face of horrendous reductions in staffing and funding and the desire to defend local enterprise against the gargantuan intrusion of big business.

It's interesting to reflect that things seem incredibly possible with a direct interface between politicians and the general public — the elected and the electors. No back room bargaining. No secret deals. No lobbyists.

Just folks getting together and talking things over.

Like a Tom Wheeler Town Meeting.

— "That government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." (1863)

Chapter Forty-Three -- "Rudolph The Red"

Hundreds of festive folks, many having donned gay apparel, gathered again this year in Oakhurst to greet the arrival of Santa Claus in his North Pole Fire Department truck and witness the lighting of an impressive community Christmas tree next to that now internationally famous Talking Bear thanks to Facebook. There was magic in the air with the Winter Solstice set to mark the Sun's sharpest turn away from us only days distant.

In such a setting, personal memories from many a Christmas Past instantaneously spring forth, flooding our minds and imaginations without further summons — surging in a powerful torrent of cherished recollections joyously unleashed by sparkling ornaments, jingling bells, and seasonal songs snugly nestled in our minds since early childhood.

It was Christmas of 1949 when the legendary Gene Autry recorded a quaint little Christmas offering based on a character established a decade earlier by Robert L. May in a Montgomery Ward coloring book. The original story was presented as a poem in the same meter as the classic "It Was a Night Before Christmas" with song lyrics written for Mr. Autry by May's brother-in-law, radio producer Johnny Marks. Want a quick Holiday bar bet? "Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer" was released on November 25, 1949 and shot to the top of the charts, becoming the first #1 Hit of the 1950's. In its first year, "Rudolph" sold two and a half million copies nationwide and made Laurence A. Johnson crazy.

Mr. Johnson was the owner of four major supermarkets in Syracuse, New York. I was a nine year-old fourth grader in Syracuse attending Madison Elementary School, where my mother was President of the Parent-Teacher Association, more commonly known as the "PTA." Laurence Johnson was unabashedly conservative in thought, word and deed – considering himself a super patriot and signing on as a major supporter of Wisconsin Senator Joseph R. McCarthy after a speech the Senator gave in Wheeling, West Virginia.

On Lincoln Day, February 9, 1950, a mere month after "Rudolph" guided Santa's sleigh to unparalleled heights, Senator McCarthy dramatically announced: "I have here in my hand a list of 205 names that were made known to the Secretary of State as being members of the Communist Party and who nevertheless are still working and shaping policy in the State Department," recklessly playing fast and loose with the truth as was his style. From that point onward, McCarthy continued to exploit a rabid fear of Communism, gaining him a powerful national following, including Mr. Johnson in Syracuse.

After ruining the lives and crushing the careers of thousands of innocent Americans "blacklisted" by unproved accusation and secret allegations, McCarthy was finally revealed as the monster he was by Edward R. Murrow of CBS on "See It Now" in March of 1954 before a stunned audience of millions. Officially condemned by the U.S. Senate on December 2, 1954 in a bipartisan vote of 67 to 22, McCarthy died of acute alcoholism on May 2, 1957 at the age of 48, going down in history as a scurrilous scar on our common past, but not before influencing Laurence A. Johnson to launch a savage attack against Syracuse radio stations during the 1950 Christmas Season for playing "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" due to the chromatic hue of Rudolph's proboscis — that is — his COMMIE RED NOSE!

To those of Johnson's fanatical ilk, RED represented "Godless Communism." It was the RED Army that defeated General Anatoly Pepelayev and his WHITE Russian Army in 1923, bringing Trotsky, Lenin, Marx and Stalin to power. It was the REDS and their RED Chinese allies we faced in warfare against North Korea in June of 1950. "Better DEAD than RED!" screamed Syracuse billboards.

Rudolph's nose was RED for a REASON — "RECRUITMENT OF AMERICAN YOUTH!

Mrs. Cavanaugh of the PTA was not inclined to suffer fools. Widowed with two young sons and working full-time as a Medical Secretary with additional freelance writing on the side for spare change, she drafted letters to the Syracuse Post-Standard and Herald Journal that were published and endorsed by the Editorial Boards of both papers. Her position was clearly stated without ambiguity or qualification. Laurence A. Johnson was wrong. His assault on "Rudolph The Red- Nosed Reindeer" was simply silly — a bold, unwarranted intrusion into private lives and innocent childhood — flying in the face of common sense and basic decency — utter nonsense by any measure. And she wasn't shopping at Johnson's Fine Foods one more second, thank you.

Greeted by overwhelming ridicule reaching universal proportion, Johnson dropped his Anti-Rudolph efforts without further controversy or comment, although continuing wild flag-waving efforts as a major contributor to the John Birch Society in subsequent times.

But as I saw our Oakhurst Community Tree burst into brilliant Christmas colors December 3rd and heard the strains of "Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer" echoing through the local crowd, I thought of Mrs. Cavanaugh — and trust she is pleased.

I might even say she glows!

Chapter Forty-Four \--"Children of The Light"

Passage Tomb -- Newgrange, Ireland

If time goes by any faster, we'll all be a thousand years old in about a half hour.

Here we are at another year's end with Christmas 2011 behind us and 2012 so close we can almost get there holding our breath.

New Year's Day — our planet's only truly global holiday.

The Winter Solstice has been a major marker in human existence since the dawn of mankind – celebrated by every significant culture in recorded history – and it's no wonder.

Imagine the joy in ancient days when – after months of every darkening diminution — the sun finally begins to return all over the world.

In Ireland, the village of Slane is forty-five miles northwest of Dublin. On its ancient castle grounds have played The Rolling Stones, Bruce Springstein, Bob Dylan and U-2. On the Hill of Slane, Saint Patrick proclaimed Ireland to be Christian in 433 A.D. by lighting a paschal fire. The burial chamber at Newgrange is on the banks of the River Boyne a few miles to the east. It is over five thousand years old.

The Newgrange chamber is a huge, circular, man-made mound of white and black boulders, largely covered with earth and grass. It measures two hundred and forty feet across and is forty-four feet high, occupying over a full acre. Discovered and uncovered by accident in 1699, the entrance overlooks a broad bend in the river. A narrow tunnel leads seventy feet down into the earth. Visitors are only allowed in small groups after arrangements are made with the proper authorities. Passage is slow. A central chamber contains three rooms – a trinity – all openly facing into the single center. Water has never penetrated the surrounding rocks. Construction was by master architects. It was built for the ages. The spiral markings are everywhere. Their meaning is unclear.

Our Irish tour guide suggested to me with whispered reverence that recent archeological findings indicate the mysterious structure was the work of Tuatha de Danann — "The Children of the Light" — a magical tribe said to have arrived in Ireland on flying ships — hundreds of years later choosing to vanish into the ground upon the arrival of uninvited foreigners rather than defend themselves with horribly powerful instruments at their command– fearsome options abandoned by unanimous group consensus and never since known.

A small opening over the entrance is aligned so that the sun's rays penetrate and illuminate the chamber with a fiery red glow only once each year at the exact point of the Winter Solstice. It is seen as a symbol of rebirth and renewal. The effect lasts less than twenty minutes.

Newgrange is two thousand years older than Stonehenge and the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt.

It is perspective.

And it is inspirational to consider that the utter abandonment of weapons of mass destruction has at least one mythological precedent, perhaps even offering a New Year's Resolution of infinite promise and ultimate merit.

As the same sun shines upon us all.

Children of the Light.

"Whilst you have the light, believe in the light, that you may be the children of light. These things Jesus spoke; and he went away, and hid himself from them." John 12:36

Chapter Forty-Five \--"Scotty Beams Us Up!"

Senator Scott Brown (R-Massachusetts) With Daughters Ayla and Arianna

Senator Scott Brown (R-Massachusetts) thinks Barack Obama did the right thing and so do I.

Republican Senator Brown was elected to serve the remaining term of the late Ted Kennedy two years ago in January of 2010 with major Tea Party support, shocking the nation and waking up the Massachusetts Democratic Party from self-induced, naively assumptive apathy. Brown's amazing triumph was hailed as a Conservative victory of the highest order and, more importantly, a glorious harbinger of dazzling things to come.

Such optimistic prediction seemingly came true in November of last year when enough disenchanted progressives stayed home and even more disaffected dissidents didn't, thus ushering in a 112th Congress as bitterly divided as any in our history – and predictably so.

I'm hoping Senator Brown has got it down, gracing us with a prophetic act in his new support of our President. Barack Obama may at last be on his way to a deserved second term, having bitterly learned a hard lesson after his first few years of attempted cooperation, compromise and conciliation with a Republican Party primarily comprised of committed ideologues willing to serve the rich and keep millions unemployed to blow one man out of a job.

The major turning point for Brown comes with Obama's decision to appoint Rich Cordray as head of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau despite powerful and fully dedicated Republican opposition to the very idea of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, itself. Although Cordray received a majority of Senate votes (53 to 45) on December 8th to let his nomination proceed, Republican Minority Leader Mitch McConnell again impudently invoked the threat of a filibuster to slam the door shut in Obama's face once again as he had done dozens of times before with unanswered impunity. But things have changed and none too soon.

Boldly and courageously citing ample legal justification, Obama has finally flipped a Presidential eagle and installed Cordray as Director of the CFPB through a "recess appointment" as envisioned by our Founding Fathers and clearly authorized by Article II: Section 2 of the U.S. Constitution. Stunned Republicans have reacted with unusual vehemence, some even demanding immediate impeachment if not even more radical remedies up to and including lifetime banishment back to Kenya.

Let's see what Republicans hate so much about the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau by examining what it promises to do:

In the words of Director Cordray, "The central mission of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB) is to make markets for consumer financial products and services work for Americans — whether they are applying for a mortgage, choosing among credit cards, or using any number of other consumer financial products."

At its website, the Bureau cites as "core functions" such things as the enforcement of financial protection laws, the establishment of restrictions on unfair, deceptive, or abusive acts or practices, the initiation of action upon citizens' complaints and the promotion of financial education.

As usual, Republican opposition to such "socialistic" goals is accompanied by exclamations of wild outrage concerning "more big government", "job killing regulations" and "strangulation of free enterprise", each allegation presenting an even fresher level of characteristic absurdity.

Even eventual GOP nominee Willard "Mitt "Romney is now whining about Obama's drive toward "European Style Socialism", presumably including the Federal Republic of Germany, where the average German auto worker now earns wages of $67.14 an hour, more than double that of his or her American counterpart, while also receiving full health care, an ample pension upon retirement and a free college education. Look it up.

Fasten your seat belts. Election Year 2012 is off and running with a reinvigorated President, a replaceable Congress and a reawakened electorate.

Good things may come of this.

GAME ON!

Chapter Forty-Six -- "What Made Max Mad"

Max Richie was a Powerhouse Man.

"We lived in an Edison Community. These were little communities around The Powerhouse. We were the people who ran The Powerhouse. We maintained it, worked together and lived together as next door neighbors. Our kids went to school together. I lived with them for 15 –20– maybe 25 years."

Max said these words last December 3rd at our year's end meeting of the Democratic Club of Oakhurst at the Ol' Kettle as we introduced what was to become a regular closing highlight designated as, "A Moment with Max."

I get to moderate these monthly sessions, having not been present a while back when a vote was taken by membership as to who should get stuck doing such a thing.

Here was my introduction to "A Moment with Max" as transcribed from a fortuitous recording of same:

"We have something special we've decided to close these meetings with from now on. We have a TREASURE in our organization. He's 90 years old. He's been on his best behavior today — just sitting here waiting for his turn — so I would like to take this opportunity to introduce the inaugural appearance of "A Moment with Max" — Max Richie!"

(Enthusiastic applause)

Max lived in North Fork, having been a Merchant Seaman in the South Pacific during World War Two — later joining Southern California Edison in 1947 and operating in the Powerhouse for 33 years until his retirement in 1980. It was while working for Edison that Max joined the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers (IBEW) and became a union steward, at one time leading a strike against Edison which brought about milestone changes in wages, benefits and working conditions across the board. He continued his role as a primary union negotiator with Edison for the remainder of his years with SCE.

Max was heading north on Highway 49 Saturday morning, January 14th, to participate in a Mariposa County Democratic Central Committee symposium when he died.

His son, Charles, shares these thoughts:

"The family has talked it over, and decided that we could not have picked a better way for Dad to spend his last day than to wake up excited, discussing what he might say, printing off copies of a "Thank You" letter from Bernie Sanders and be on his way to his next Democratic activity."

Max K. Richie was spending his 91st year still on the ball — on the road – on the move – because Max K. Richie was mad — and getting madder all the time.

Max was always writing "Letters to the Editor" — The Sierra Star and Fresno Bee his primary recipients. On October 3, 2010, The Bee honored Max with featured recognition in their highly circulated Sunday "Meet Our Letter Writers" segment.

Pam Rowse of the Bee remembers Max well. " I was so sad to hear of Mr. Richie's passing. He has been writing letters, probably before I started working here in 1977. I remember he used to hand write all of his letters. He had very distinctive penmanship. Even though I don't have any of those hand-written letters, I can still see his very unique writing in my mind to this day."

The reason Max wrote all those letters all those years was for the same single word Gore Vidal once used in explaining why he has remained so politically energized and active even after becoming severely debilitated and confined to a wheel chair.

"Rage!"

Rather than delineate specifics with any attempt at inclusive summary to create a litany of all the things that made Max mad, might I suggest the following publications Max devoured with passionate commitment and always consistently and insistently recommended to others?

"The Nation"

"Liberal Opinion"

"Mother Jones"

"The Progressive Dissent"

"Monthly Review"

"Industrial Worker" and Fresno's "Community Alliance."

I bring these to your attention with endorsement in the name of Max K. Richie: Socialist.

One of the finest men I've ever known.

Chapter Forty-Seven -- "An Oakhurst Connection"

Statue of Cuchulainn by Oliver Sheppard in the window of the General Post Office, Dublin, Ireland -- commemorating the 1916 Rising

The December 24, 2009 Christmas issue of this paper featured a front page story by Tiffany Tuell which began with the words, "A small group of Mountain Area residents braved the cold Friday evening, December 18, at the corner of Highway 41 and Highway 49 for a peace vigil, sending a message to end the wars in the Middle East and bring American troops home. Their message was met by a steady stream of vehicles honking in agreement."

Tiffany quoted me as saying: "I have a cousin who is a Navy SEAL lieutenant commander. I am very much in support of him and the troops, but don't want to see them throw away their lives for an insane proposition."

Even as a little boy, he felt a certain calling. Later – as a young man – he followed his dream.

You will meet my cousin shortly as "Lt. Rorke" on the screen of "The Met" and in an additional 3,000 theaters across the country in a major motion picture four years in the making. Other than normal military pay, all participating SEALS received no additional compensation for their involvement in what started as a training project and evolved into what has become a cinematic achievement of epic proportion.

Still on active duty, he is unidentified by name, as are brother SEALS featured in the film.

I was privileged to witness the final cut of "Act of Valor" just days ago in LA. It made me proud to be an American.

It is the inherent nature of our species. Throughout civilized history, it was and remains only true warriors who have won and preserved extended peace for those they faithfully serve. Not kings. Not presidents. Not priests \-- nor prophets.

The legend of Cúchulainn is one of the greatest in ancient Irish legend. He is noted in mythical sagas for his superhuman strength and amazing deeds on the battlefield. Cúchulainn was heard to proclaim before the Druids in Ulster's Hall of Heroes: "'I care not whether I die tomorrow or next year, if only my deeds live after me'.

My SEAL cousin includes Irish heritage on his Father's side of the family, but shares with his Mother, as do I with mine, ancestry dating back to the Mayflower, including one Thomas Newcomb, cited as: "Soldier -- Revolutionary War", drafted into the American Army under George Washington on 23 August, 1777, at the age of 16.

"Act of Valor" concludes with powerful imagery – those Stars and Stripes – that flag fought for freedom through the years — passing yet further onward to a new generation.

Closing credits display only the names of Navy SEALS who have willingly and unselfishly offered their lives on our behalf since 9/11 — heroes and warriors all. The list is long.

It is to them we owe our deepest gratitude and highest praise.

It is for us to pledge their living brothers are never sent to die for less than the values we profess.

" It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us— that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." – Abraham Lincoln. Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. November 19, 1863.

Chapter Forty-Eight -- "Oh Come, Let Us Santorum?"

I haven't been accused of being a Republican for quite some time now. Even Junior Froelich didn't go that far. And I don't know just what I'd do these days as a Republican watching what has to be an historically confusing series of Presidential Primary elections and/or caucuses from sea to shining sea. Mitt Romney tries to convince us now that he was SEVERELY Conservative in Massachusetts, conjuring images of a modern day Bay State Torquemada.

Tomás de Torquemada, O.P. (1420 -1498) was a fifteenth century Dominican friar and first Grand Inquisitor of the Spanish Inquisition which, over a fifty year period, burned at least several thousand naughty Spaniards at the stake for being sinful. It was for their own good. They had become "impure".

The churning for ideological "purity" in the GOP has so far rocketed Michele Bachmann to the top (Iowa Straw Poll — August '11), then Rick Perry (#1 in National September Polling), yielding to Herman Cain (Florida — December '11 Straw Poll), followed by Newt Gingrich (South Carolina Primary) and Ron Paul (maybe Maine), even while Mitt Romney, this season's designated front-runner, scores wins in Florida (actual January '12 Primary), New Hampshire, Nevada and maybe Maine. The main issue in Maine is whether the "final caucus tally" was Romney-rigged or not. Paul's people say so, especially in Waldo County. Regardless of ultimate resolution, it's nice knowing where Waldo finally went.

The Purity Police are now rallying with a new hero in hand. Rick Santorum, baffling bettors from London to Lucky Lane, has surged to the forefront with sudden major wins in Minnesota, Missouri, Colorado and even credit for Iowa, where the Republican State Chairman has resigned in disgrace after guaranteeing all that Romney had won on January 3rd.

As a child of '50's Parochial School education — Santorum seems creepy. It's that "Purity" deal.

We had been told at Cathedral Academy in Syracuse by Sister Cecilia that even listening to Don and Phil Everly's "Wake Up Little Suzie" might be a Mortal Sin since it implied that "a boy and girl were sleeping together without having partaken in the Sacrament of Marriage", an interpretation which had never remotely dawned on her students.

This era of Catholic education stressed a highly structured, excruciatingly well-defined philosophy regarding matters sexual in nature. Even the word "sex" was never openly uttered other than in extremely hushed tones and then only after the "boys" and "girls" had been separated for "frank discussion" of "certain private things".

The tight confines went along these lines:

To have brief "impure thoughts" was a venial sin.

To willingly enjoy "impure thoughts", let alone engage in "impure acts", was a Mortal Sin.

Both sins could be forgiven if fully confessed to a priest who was empowered by God to grant penance and absolution.

If you died with venial sins unforgiven, you'd need to spend a certain amount of time in a place called Purgatory before finally going to Heaven. Think of it as waiting in line at the DMV. A Mortal Sin, however, brought a far darker fate. Death's arrival with an unforgiven Mortal Sin damning the soul would mean burning in the raging, searing, blast-furnace, blowtorch, white-hot fires of Hell for all Eternity.

Then came the "heavy spins".

"And how long is Eternity in which the soul and body burns forever?" "If there was a giant steel ball the size of the planet earth suspended in space and if every one million years a small, gentle dove flew past and the very tiniest tip of its feathery little wing just barely touched, by the time that ball was completely severed in two, Eternity will have just begun."

"And what part of the body burns the hottest in Hell??"

"The part you have sinned with!"

There was a finale.

"Is anything besides committing a sexually impure act a Mortal Sin?" "Yes!" "Wanting To!!"

There I was being told "wanting to do it" was the same as "doing it" with an identical penalty. And punishment was, pardon me, Sister, a stiff one at that.

I intellectually came to a painful realization that I was confronted with two mutually exclusive moral positions: Either (a) I was condemned to be a Mortal Sinner throughout life with my only hope for Salvation being a friendly comet nailing me at light-speed velocity just seconds after leaving a Confessional or (b) I could avoid self-deception and explore my God-given conscience.

I dismissed (a) as mathematically improbable — went with (b) — and that's why I consider Rick Santorum (c) — CREEPY.

Chapter Forty-Nine -- "We Take Care of Our Own!"

Donald J. Cavanaugh and Peter Cavanaugh

Niagara Falls, New York

(1947)

From my earliest memories, I had always wanted to be "on the air". That was all I ever had in mind. This was true even before my father died on the radio when I was six years old.

Donald J. Cavanaugh was working for the Veteran's Administration as Assistant Chief in Syracuse by the summer of 1948. He had seen infantry service in World War One and, at the time of his passing, was in charge of all Veteran Rehabilitation in Central New York, an assignment filled with many sad challenges as hundreds of wounded warriors finally returned home in the aftermath of World War Two.

On July 29th of that year, he entered WNDR's studios to narrate a public affairs program called "News For Veterans." It was a long, thirty-minute script. Halfway through, he gasped for breath. It was a massive coronary. He was dead at the age of 52, a chronological distinction I have amazingly surpassed.

Earlier that month, I clearly recall us heading "downtown" in our '36 Chevy, Daddy outlining to me with great detail what he "did at work." He was bringing me to "the office" on an early Saturday morning to "get things caught up". I was enthralled. He said that he worked for "the government" and "helped soldiers from the war." Even then, I pretty much knew what "soldiers" and "war" meant, but "government" seemed a strange, elusive proposition.

Two days ago, Columbia Records released, "Wrecking Ball", Bruce Springsteen's first album in years. If you were watching The 54th Grammy Awards On February 12th, you saw Bruce offer a preview — a "sneak peak" which instantly swept me back in time to that last ride alone with my Dad. What he explained to me at length in no uncertain terms and the title of Bruce's debut single from "Wrecking Ball" are one and the same — "We Take Care of Our Own."

"I've been knockin' on the door that holds the throne - I've been lookin' for the map that leads me home - I've been stumblin' on good hearts — turned to stone. The road of good intentions– has gone dry as bone"

The front wall of my brother Paul's living room in Syracuse still proudly displays an autographed picture formally presented to "Donald J. Cavanaugh" expressing appreciation for his work with veterans, personally signed by the 32rd President of the United States, Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

With one in four of our children unfed each night — with 45 million countrymen lacking basic health insurance — with social services being savaged and slashed — with higher education publicly scorned by a national candidate for highest office –with a trillion spent and thousands dead from needless wars — with issues resolved decades ago again subject to distractive debate — with unions which brought about the rise of the American Middle Class under relentless and vicious attack– with oligarchy replacing democracy and need swallowed by greed — this is not my father's America.

Or Bruce Springsteen's \--

"We take care of our own \- We take care of our own - Wherever this flag's flown - We take care of our own."

"The liberty of a democracy is not safe if the people tolerate the growth of private power to a point where it becomes stronger than their democratic State itself. That, in its essence, is fascism — ownership of government by an individual, by a group or by any other controlling private power. " Franklin D. Roosevelt — Message to Congress — April 29, 1938

Chapter Fifty -- "Strange Days"

John Belushi -- "Animal House"

As the Republican Presidential Primary Season bumbles along without clear conclusion and we witness a Romney uncrowned, a Gingrich unbowed, a Santorum unhinged and a Paul — the strangest of all — it is tempting to prematurely rejoice at an internecine slugfest which would, under normal circumstances, eventually churn up a winning loser. But these are strange days.

Perhaps we should expect no more in November than an honest roll of the dice.

It seems convincingly clear that a majority of eligible American voters remain functionally uninformed and politically illiterate. Two out of five don't vote at all.

Bill O' Reilly on Fox is a solid #1 in weekly Cable News Ratings, even as MSNBC is now a consistent #2 with Rachel Maddow, Ed Schultz and Lawrence O'Brien combining for an impressive win over #3 CNN. With this in mind, let's reflect on the fact that O'Reilly's comparatively "vast daily audience" represents only a slender one percent of our nation's population. MSNBC scores but half of that with CNN significantly less.

Combined nightly news ratings of "the big networks" — NBC (6.2% of households), ABC (5.4%) and CBS (4.5%) — equal but 16.1% of the electorate. Just 30% of Americans say they read a print version of their local newspaper nearly every day, but under the age of 40, only half as many (15%) report the same.

Millions of aging "Ditto Heads" still rely on Rush Limbaugh as their exclusive analyst of contemporary thought, such as on Tuesday, November 1, 2011, when Rush pontificated with these words on Fresno's 50,000 watt KMJ:

"The whole subprime mortgage thing can and has been without doubt traced to government policy, which was rooted in the theory that the financial institutions were discriminating against minorities by not giving them loans. So the lending institutions created these loans that nobody could ever pay back."

Talk Radio continues to bleat similarly contrived Conservative commentary to a faithful flock around the clock, supported and funded by banks now enjoying their highest profits in history — financial institutions far too big to fail — like General Electric Capital Corporation — recipients of a 126 billion dollar credit line bail out from TARP in 2008. That helped cover a loan which had been made to Peak Broadcasting in 2007 when Peak paid 90 million dollars purchasing KMJ and other Fresno holdings from CBS Radio, a transaction in which GE Capital was a primary senior lender.

So — look at what just slid under local radar virtually unnoticed –

Peak filed a prepackaged plan of reorganization in U.S. Bankruptcy Court in Delaware on Tuesday, January 10th of this year under Chapter Eleven, an agreement which was approved, signed, sealed and delivered on Friday, February 24th, barely six short weeks later. Talk about "Super Train Fast Track Refinancing!" The "New Peak", owing 93 million dollars going into the exercise, was able to shave more than 50 million taxpayer guaranteed dollars from this amount with General Electric Capital even receiving a equity position in the new entity. Slick!

Todd Lawley, Chief Executive Officer of Peak and primary architect of the 90 million dollar Fresno buy/ 50 million dollar loss, told the Fresno Bee, "I am confident that Peak will emerge from the restructuring with a stronger financial foundation which complements our market-leading radio positions." And he kept his job. Sweet!

And he's still carrying Rush moaning about deadbeat minorities. Neat!

Mega money is boss bully with big wheels scoring backroom deals.

And so it is the dark significance of "Citizens United" becomes more evident with every passing day as corporations are now "persons" and unrestricted campaign contributions, clandestinely donated, must be functionally regarded and unconditionally honored as "free speech."

And in messaging, protected by Federal Law, these new personages can say whatever they want — any way they want — as often as they wish — with guaranteed anonymity.

Secret has become sacred.

There is a certain measure of irony bemusedly evident when we have seen "Citizens United" — created by the most conservative U.S. Supreme Court in living memory, first impacting with devastating consequence on "righties" Newt Gingrich and Rick Santorum as Romney-supporting millions dramatically reversed initial polling in state after state with sinister efficiency and terminal effect.

Yet, echoing through my mind and rumbling like thunder, come the immortal words of John "Bluto" Blutarsky in "Animal House" (1978). Blutarski spoke as any "average American" might.

"What? Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!"

If there ever was a moment for inspired, intrepid, even blessedly insane commitment to a critical cause — here we are.

Jack Uppal, Congressional Candidate for California's new 4th District, can use all the help you might offer, as can Marc Boyd, running for State Assembly.

The horrid consequences of Election 2010 can be completely reversed in a powerful backlash come this November with ensuing Democratic majorities in the House and Senate, a second term for President Obama, and a long overdue return to the evolution of a truly progressive nation.

Anything less is unworthy of our efforts and unthinkable in our times.

Chapter Fifty-One \-- "Kid Scoop"

Jennifer Lawrence -- "Hunger Games"

Amidst the plethora of amazing technology exponentially emerging and expanding with every passing day comes a lovely ancillary opportunity afforded by the very newspaper you now hold clutched in your grasp.

Visiting http://www.sierrastar.com on the Internet brings you an electronic version of many features brought to you in this publication, including local news, a community calendar, sports stories, obituaries, social announcements, all sorts of other cool connections, and even a copy of "For Your Consideration", a weekly column submitted by yours truly and my trusted colleague, Alan Cheah. The reason Alan and I work so well together is that we never read what the other writes until it appears in "The Star", at which point we often send each other a brief note offering absolute concurrence and sincere congratulation.

Another plus presented by the online version of "For Your Consideration" is that it gives me a chance to share observations contained therein with the whole wide world (I like to think) merely by pasting the link onto my Facebook page and/or other Facebook sites with which I am associated, including "Remembering WTAC" and "Sherwood Forest/Concert Venue" -- these two alone reaching an average of over 4,000 persons each week.

Such capability finally brings me to the whole point of this particular piece, which is to salute "Kid Scoop", an endearing little logo which always seems to jump up adjacent to the digital column, bringing me weekly queries from friends "Back East" as to why on earth I'm calling my column "Kid Scoop" when there normally doesn't seem to be any connection with the usual content contained therein.

By way of explanation, "Kid Scoop" is a delightful feature for boys and girls and children of all ages which can be found in every edition of the published "Sierra Star," but is only promoted on the website. But this week, there IS a connection!

Webster offers a secondary definition of the word "scoop" as a colloquialism "to publish or broadcast a news item first"– and it was only from "the kids" I learned about "The Hunger Games", first as a book for young adults by Suzanne Collins and, of course, most recently as a brilliant motion picture for which 21 year-old Jennifer Lawrence should receive a "Best Actress" Academy Award for virtually each and every scene in which she appears, meaning just about every second of the film. Ms. Lawrence was outstanding in "Winter's Bone". In "The Hunger Games" she is astounding. Even more powerful is the film's message – a deadly demonstration of –and solemn warning against — the ultimate horror of concentrated political power.

My old friend Mike Moore offers this typically restrained summary at michaelmoore.com:

"The Hunger Games" – Don't miss this film! It's set in the United States of the future, after the 1% have completed their mission to enslave the other 99%"

But not if today's kids have their way. It has been my experience they "get it" much more than not. They sense injustice a mile away. They know unfair when they see it.

They think more freely than their parents and seem to display amazing objectivity.

Oakhurst, where one out of three of us has no health insurance of any kind, was the center of national attention on Saturday, March 24th, when National Public Radio carried a feature story headlined, "In Conservative California, Confusion And Contempt For Health Law." Sarah Varney of San Francisco's KQED interviewed a few folks at Sweetwater Steakhouse and discovered — a dichotomy. Doug Macauley tactfully and diplomatically summarized it best. "You're complaining over here that you don't have health insurance and you can't buy it. And over here [the government is] trying to provide you with it but that's the worst thing ever. So there seems to be a disconnect in the thinking there."

In the broadcast, Joe Stern (the water-conditioning Joe Stern) was also absolutely correct with his expressed view that, when it comes to health care in America, "no one is really left out". The intellectual challenge comes when you match this against Joe's other comment that "Obamacare is absolutely, horrible, horrible, horrible", overlooking the fact that all of us are already paying for "no one" being "left out" with proportionately escalating medical costs coming out of our pockets across the board and that "Obamacare", a right-wing invented hate phrase for "The Affordable Care and Patient Protection Act of 2010", might just be a good first step in the right direction.

Ultimately it's the kids who will decide. They are our future. I'm betting on them.

"The Kids Are Alright" — The WHO (1965)

Hope I die before I get old.

Chapter Fifty-Two -- "Remembering Remembering"

"I'm not familiar, precisely, with exactly what I said, but I stand by what I said, whatever it was." — Willard "Mitt" Romney — May 17, 2012.

What Republican Presidential Candidate Romney couldn't recall were words spoken only weeks ago on Sean Hannity's radio show when Mitt proclaimed that President Obama wants to make America "a less Christian nation."

But total recall is not one of Governor Romney's strongest suits. When recently confronted with uncontested allegations by five former school mates from Cranbrook, an elite Michigan prep school, that he had personally led a vicious bullying attack on another classmate found guilty of "being different", Romney blurted, "I don't remember". And as far as that "being different" deal is concerned? Mitt just had to chuckle."I certainly don't believe that I thought the fellow was homosexual. That was the furthest thing from our minds back in the 1960s."

WHAT?

As a proud graduate and President of the Student Council at Cathedral Academy in Syracuse, New York, back in 1959, I must emphatically observe this is outrageous nonsense. Although boastful of Irish ascent, I went out of my way to avoid "wearing green on Thursdays" (other than March 17th) since that might signal I was "queer." Back then, "queer" meant a bit as "gay" does now, but in a much meaner, more slashing fashion. "Queer" defined the dangerously deranged, particularly in Catholic School. That added the eternally damning label of "Mortal Sin" to the unholy mix — never mind what went on in the Rectory.

But Mitt's not alone with his memory challenges.

In 2004, American Author/Historian Gore Vidal (quintessentially "queer" and mighty proud of it) wrote his brilliant "Imperial America: The United States of Amnesia", the primary point being that, as a people, we tend to forget what we should most remember. Oops. Not good.

Right around the corner is Memorial Day 2012, a day set aside to honor our fallen heroes, recalling those who have given their all, offering themselves in ultimate individual sacrifice for our collective American freedom. It is most fitting and proper that we do. I suggest it may be of even greater value that we seriously reflect upon our own responsibilities in the waging of American wars. It is a debt owed by the living to our consecrated dead.

We're getting there.

Public opinion against our continuing military efforts in Afghanistan now equals opposition to the Vietnam conflict at its highest point in the early '70's. But the same mind set which brought us Vietnam, Iraq, and a full decade in Afghanistan now regards Iran as another golden opportunity worth more billions every profit-laden week – a mind set which blames our current Federal deficit on a President who inherited an unmitigated disaster in progress when he assumed office in January of '09 — a mind set now stunningly unmindful of "George the Conqueror."

George W. Bush will be, according to all Republican sources, not remotely involved in this year's campaign, nor will he be asked to contribute anything more meaningful than his complete absence from this year's Republican Convention in Tampa Bay. Out of sight — out of mind.

As soon as "W" pronounced his support of "Mitt" last week to a group of reporters hounding for a quick sound bite, he immediately disappeared behind a suddenly closed elevator door, leaving all to wonder if the darn thing was even going up or down.

Wealthy whispers are reaching a roar. "He was never a real Conservative!" "He was dumber than we hoped." "His brother would have known better!"

Poor George — doing as told — now there to scold.

Try to find friends who remain staunch supporters of Barack Obama's predecessor's policies or openly remember if they ever were.

Ask how they felt about heading into Iraq in the first place — guided by what is now universally recognized as intentionally altered information as we witness 4,408 American dead, 33,184 American injured, two trillion American dollars squandered and 100,000 Iraqis killed since the initiation of "Shock and Awe" in March of 2003. Do they recognize that along with Afghanistan adventures through 2008 and billions upon billions in tax cuts primarily for those already rich, none of it was paid for?

Inquire as to the whereabouts of "George the Invisible" and relentlessly ponder the undeniable suppression of traditional American conscience.

For without such questions, there can be no answers.

In these United States of Amnesia.

Chapter Fifty-Three -- "The Beat Goes On!"

Late one Saturday night in May of 1998, while managing a group of radio stations in Youngstown, Ohio, I felt a wild tickling in my chest. It wasn't remotely painful and might even have been considered mildly pleasurable were it not for the fact that my Dad had died of a sudden heart attack at the age of 52. Such family history made me more cognizant of potential personal peril in this area than otherwise may have been the case. This saved my life.

With complete blockage of two main coronary arteries and dangerously high percentages on two others, a ten hour quadruple bypass bought me a measure of time long enough to see eleven grandchildren (each one smarter than the other ten) grow and flourish. These last 14 years also witnessed abandonment of a three pack a day cigarette habit, the adoption of much healthier dietary practices and, most unbelievable of all, the loss of over 40 pounds of waddling weight through regularly daily exercise. That's me you see on 425A every weekday morning from Live Oak right up to the fence and back. Coming down is easier than going up. And, even though I've never felt better, I regularly undergo annual stress testing. This time, that's what saved my life.

Spotting an almost undetectable aberration, my cardiologist explained that, although there was a computer generated analysis predicting only 5% blockage, there was "something that bothered him" and a full angiogram study was worth serious consideration. This soon proved that the practice of medicine is, in its finest form, a combination of both art and science. I herein thank my son-in-law, Richard Seiling, for this insightful observation.

For those unacquainted, I should briefly mention that an angiogram is no casual walk in the park, day at the beach or teddy bears' picnic. One is securely strapped down as a needle and thin tube are run straight up into your heart for the insertion of telltale dye. Then they shoot interior pictures, but you don't have to smile.

On May 23rd, Eileen and I celebrated our 48th Wedding Anniversary with a trip down the hill to St. Agnes Hospital and a rendezvous with a most prescient Dr. Michael Gen and his merry band of astoundingly professional assistants.

The following is personal correspondence I just sent to family and friends:

"I have returned from an unexpected overnight stay at St. Agnes Hospital in Fresno after a fortuitous angiogram yesterday morning revealed over 90% blockage in my Left Anterior Descending Artery, more popularly known as "The Widow Maker." This precipitated the insertion of two stents and a more careful study of the rest of the heart. Bottom line seems to be that my 1998 Youngstown bypass now is pretty much shot, with three of the four grafts completely gone and a fourth barely functioning. There is the possibly of yet another stent in the not too distant future. I'll know more after my next appointment June 14th. C'est la vie. So, the GREAT NEWS is that a completely unsuspected and immediate "LAD" threat is enormously diminished, but the CONCERNING NEWS is that I'm now told I must have experienced a "silent heart attack" sometime in the last few years as the Youngstown bypasses collapsed, rendering around 10% of my heart "deadened."

And that's what initially freaked me out the most. A "silent heart attack?" Yes, and the stunningly attractive administrative associate who detailed the situation offered — in explanation — these exact words, "Dead meat — no beat!" Honest!

I feel much better now, having been assured that the initial graphic image of an ancient cheeseburger lying a-mouldering in my chest like John Brown's body has been thoroughly dispelled and that "no longer functional muscle tissue" (my words) has been more or less absorbed by a comparatively healthy surrounding environment.

And so here I am as the beat goes on, still crazy after all these years (along with Paul Simon), hoping this testimony might remind all of us (myself included) that all those things it takes time to learn and accept are extraordinarily important in such lives as we lead. And yet when the end must come, I still fantasize blissfully toppling down into eternity from the towering heights of a well-worn bar stool, my face on the floor frozen in lasting, perpetual, satiated smile. But that's me — reserving the right to — upon ever more age limiting occasions — not practice what I preach.

Chapter Fifty-Four -- "Money Talks"

"Tailored suits, chauffeured cars. Fine hotels and big cigars. Up for grabs, up for a price. Where the red hot girls keep on dancing through the night – Come on, come on, listen to the money talk."

AC/DC — (1990) — From "The Razor's Edge"

Wisconsin Republican Governor Scott Walker's multi-million dollar victory in Wisconsin has blessedly assured President Barack Obama's reelection in November with commanding Democratic majorities in the Senate and possibly the House.

There are lots of moving parts here, perhaps including loose screws in my head, but I firmly believe that the American people are finally starting to get it.

Having dramatically witnessed an undeniable demonstration of arrogant, self-serving, primarily inherited riches — unleashed without reservation or restraint by a few against the many, recognition is at last being given that — when a handful of billionaires can dominate mass media with their exclusive message by an eight to one margin — the voice of the people can no longer be heard. Such silence is our deadliest enemy.

Nobel Prize Winning Economist Joseph Stiglitz, in his latest New York Times Best Seller, "The Price of Inequality: How Today's Divided Society Endangers Our Future", categorically states that economic injustice is killing the American dream. Stiglitz cites irrefutable data showing that in the "recovery" of 2009-10, the top 1% of US income-earners captured 93% of growth. The trend is one of concentrating income and wealth at the top, the hollowing out of the middle and increasing poverty at the bottom as the five Walton families (of Walmart fame — not John-Boy's folks) enjoy greater wealth than the bottom 30% of the rest combined — all one hundred million of us.

And those who believe we still are THE land of opportunity should kindly notice their environment. Bootstraps have broken and many a Horatio Alger can't find work. I include this arcane observation by way of also stressing that, for the first time in my seven decades on the planet, young folks have a better shot at rising to the top elsewhere than right here at home — almost anywhere else in the free world. But I'm not going anywhere and they're not either.

This is all fixable, but that means not pretending everything's fine except for "big government", "taxes", "regulations", and mindless devotion to a "free market economy" — all of which are just part of the big lies designed to keep us powerless, poorer and in our proper places. Markets are "free" only as paid for.

My Great-Great-Grandfather, Thomas Newcomb, lies buried in a cemetery in Upstate New York, beneath a large grave marker prominently displaying an American Flag under which can clearly be seen the words, "Soldier – Revolutionary War."

Drafted into George Washington's Army at the age of 16, Thomas was a Rebel — a Renegade — a Traitor against the King. Quoting from official documentation, "On 5 Aug. 1781, Thomas rendered service near Peekskill, and in a whale-boat on Long Island Sound; captured a sloop, and, immediately after, another armed with ten guns, making her a prize, with three other sloops, loaded with wood and forage for the British army; carried them into Stamford, Connecticut."

I am pleased to report that Thomas was also a man of committed social conscience.

Again from the archives, "Following his discharge from the Army, Thomas became a farmer and wagon maker. In 1821, Mr. Newcomb moved to Onondaga Valley, New York, and from there canvassed the country in supporting The Anti-Slavery Movement."

The Fourth of July is but four weeks away, when we celebrate our freedom with fun, frolic, festivities and fireworks.

Political Conservatives in 1776 were Tories, also known as "Loyalists" or "The Kings Men" — supporters of the status quo and unquestioned British rule. How ironic that many who will be adorned in all sorts of red, white & blue attire this 2012 Independence Day, wearing breeches, woolen stockings, leather shoes and those iconic three corner hats dangling gayly festooned Lipton bags, will be sporting historically verifiable rebel wear from an otherwise Conservative era. Yep. That was the LIBERAL LOOK!

Chapter Fifty-Five -- "Death to The Boogeyman"

John Roberts killed him.

Ever since Congress passed the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act on March 23rd of 2010, the measure became cleverly and effectively branded by rabid Republican opponents as "Obamacare" — yet a new Boogeyman designed to scare and frighten a faithful flock with outright lies and unrestrained deceit. Such manipulation successfully spawned a mindless, mobilized opposition – elevating timidity and fear of change to the level of virtuous patriotism.

You've heard variations of the rap.

"Obamacare is a socialist takeover of one-sixth of the American economy, engineered by the worst Kenyan-born, secret Muslim President in our history, with government run health care, confiscatory taxation, thousands of unelected "Czars", IRS agents behind every tree, the end of private property, no more HBO, bad haircuts and Death Squads dropping Gramma in a dumpster."

None of this is remotely true, but much of the above was generally believed by many. Until now.

God Bless John Roberts.

In what sure qualifies as a Kennedyesque "Profile in Courage", John Glover Roberts, Jr., the 17th Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, not only provided the deciding vote in the Court's historic (5-4) affirmation of the Affordable Care Act's Constitutionality, but he actually found a brilliant way to make things come together — piecing the puzzle into place — preserving integrity through ingenuity. As with most complex issues, simplicity carried the day.

"You don't like "mandate?" Let's call it a "Tax." No one claims Congress can't do that. Thank you and goodnight."

Appointed by George W. Bush in 2005, this clearly Conservative Chief Justice's sudden and completely unexpected shift to join his four more "liberal" brethren on the left in rendering one of the most critical Supreme Court decision of our lifetime — one of multigenerational implication, quickly brings to mind one of our own — a prominent Californian.

Earl Warren was one of only two people to be elected Governor of California three times, the other being Jerry Brown. Warren ran for Vice-President on the GOP ticket in 1948 behind Thomas E. Dewey.

Republican President Dwight Eisenhower thanked Warren for his service to the party through the years by appointing him as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court in September of 1953. Chief Justice Warren then proceeded through subsequent years to lead the Court in a transformational series of progressive decisions that revolutionized the role of the Court in such landmark cases as Brown v. Board of Education (1954), Reynolds v. Sims (1964) and Miranda v. Arizona (1966).

The ultra-right wing John Birch Society initiated a strong "Impeach Earl Warren" Campaign from the late '50's onward, as I suspect similar disapproval will be leveled at Chief Justice Roberts from this point forward by Latter-Day Birchers parroting Tea Party slogans or similar expressions of divisive discontent.

But in making his stand and drawing sharp, detailed attention to exactly what the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act IS against what it IS NOT, John Roberts has also succeeded where the Administration had inadvertently failed — in simply — explaining itself.

With the Boogieman down, most of us now know that "Obamacare" was designed to reduce healthcare costs by making services available to 32 million fellow citizens who currently can't get insurance. The states will be required to set up insurance exchanges to make it easier to shop for private health insurance coverage and Insurance companies can no longer deny children coverage for pre-existing conditions, a benefit that will apply to adults in 2014. If you get sick, you can't be dropped from coverage.

Parents can put their children up to age 26 on health insurance plans. If Insurance Companies pay too much in Executive Compensation and other non-health related items, you will receive a refund on your premium payments. In 2012 alone, this will be more than a billion bucks coming back to taxpayers. The Medicare "doughnut hole" gap in coverage will be eliminated by 2020. The Act will lower the budget deficit by $143 billion for the next 10 years by raising some taxes and shifting more cost burdens.

Oh, and that "mandate", now a "tax?" That will effect just freeloaders who want us to pay for them by refraining from participation. They'll be only about two percent of the population. Two percent. All of this comes from the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office.

And — as if our President needed more good news — extensive polling by the National Geographic Channel now reveals that the American people, by an overwhelming two to one margin, believe that Barack Obama is better equipped than Mitt Romney to handle an alien space invasion.

Sleep well tonight.

Chapter Fifty-Six -- "The Reign at Bain"

"There's room at the top they're telling you still - But first you must learn how to smile as you kill - If you want to be like the folks on the hill." John Lennon — "Working Class Hero" (1971)

I fired twenty-eight people in less than a year.

In the final decade of the last century, massive consolidation of corporate holdings was well underway. My broadcast profession was no exception.

Late in the first Bush administration, our Federal Communications Commission doubled prior ownership restrictions on radio stations, allowing the acquisition of two FM and two AM licenses in any market by a single entity. And we can't blame just Republicans. The 1996 Telecommunications Act, signed by President Bill Clinton and supported in Congress with bipartisan unanimity, doubled things again. Many companies came to own eight radio stations in a single city and these corporations were purchased by even larger groups that operated hundreds of outlets in dozens of states.

Senior management positions were reduced by well over 60% in the first two years. The savings were incredible. Serious format competition was eliminated in many instances with former promotional dollars flowing to the bottom line. Cash flow was superb. Commercial rates started to climb with clients often paying considerably more for significantly less. Investors were ecstatic. And these were the early days.

In 1998, an outfit called Gocom Communications purchased WKBN-TV, a big CBS Television affiliate in Youngstown. Wanting to add five radio stations to their Ohio holdings, Gocom's primary investment group, Bain Capital, made a multi-million dollar loan conditioned on my involvement as Vice President/General Manager. I ran WBBG/WRTK/WICT/WWSY/WPAO through the end of the year, faithfully executing dozens of faithful employees upon the altar of corporate efficiency. Thinning the herd. When I would fire no more, they fired me.

"Corporations are people too!" — Willard "Mitt" Romney (2012)

"The Corporation" is a 2003 award-winning documentary film detailing how modern-day corporations are systematically designed to behave with the clinical symptoms of a complete psychopath, including utter disregard for the safety and feelings of others, difficulty maintaining human relationships, deceitfulness in business practices, an incapacity to experience guilt, and a tendency to ignore social norms and respect for the law. If corporations were actual human beings, their behavior might often land them in jail or a padded cell or tightly strapped to an execution gurney.

Responding to accusations of having shipped American jobs overseas in the interest of corporate profit and personal enrichment, supporters of Mitt Romney last week ran a million dollar TV campaign in targeted markets calling Barack Obama a liar. The next day, startling revelations in the Boston Globe and Mother Jones magazine completely vindicated our President and provided ever- increasing anxiety among traditional Republicans.

I wanted to share my own experiences to offer personal testimony verifying observations as outlined in "The Corporation" — characteristics dramatically and specifically evident in relation to Bain Capital and, particularly, to Bain's Chairman of the Board, CEO and single shareholder, Willard "Mitt" Romney.

Social justice and economic fairness have no place at Bain Capital or other practitioners of vulture capitalism.

Along with other tottering investments, Bain Capital was successful acquiring controlling interest in Clear Channel Communications for $18.7 billion dollars in 2008. Clear Channel has licenses for over 850 radio stations, including KALZ-FM, KBOS-FM, KCBL-AM, KFBT-FM, KHGE-FM, KHGE-FM, KRDU-FM, KRZR-FM and KSOF-FM in Fresno. They also own syndication companies offering exclusive rights to Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Glenn Beck, Mark Levin and Michael Savage with 5,000 affiliates reaching 190 million listeners a week.

The newly renamed Clear Channel Media and Entertainment Company is now $19.9 billion in debt, having lost over $200 million last year alone. Mitt Romney, although allegedly now "out of the picture", still has a huge financial stake in Bain as the body count continues to mount.

Jerry Del Colliano, one of the industry's most respected analysts, estimates that around 10,000 people have lost their jobs at Clear Channel properties over the last few years with more coming. Jerry tells the Sierra Star, "What they are likely to do is kick the can down the road and refinance at higher interest rates. After all, Bain makes money whether Clear Channel succeeds or fails." Willard "Mitt" Romney does know how to make business work — for himself — at the expense of — who cares how many?

Having perfected the art of smiling as he kills.

Just look.

Chapter Fifty-Seven -- "Uncle Jesse Comes To Town"

Lincoln Theodore Perry as "Stepin Fetchit" \-- Hollywood's First Black Millionaire.

As a Fourth of July sun baked down on hundreds gathered at Coarsegold's Historic Village for the Central Valley Tea Party's Third Annual "Family Freedom Fest", the hottest rhetoric of the day was provided by Keynote Speaker Jesse Lee Peterson, author, radio host and founder of the South Central Los Angeles Tea Party.

His topic?

"Conservatives Fight Back Against False Racial Accusations!" At this "family" event, staged in the presence of numerous small children and similarly impressionable adults, Mr. Peterson disavowed being referenced as an "African-American", insisting that color and race should be set-aside in political discussion. He stated his conviction that "blacks are the only true racists", having been duped into dependence upon and subservience to the Federal government from Lyndon B. Johnson and The Civil Rights Act of 1964 onward.

Peterson has also gone on record as being against women being given the right to vote, defining Islam as "an evil religion", characterizing affirmative action as "racism in reverse" and believing that most blacks should be "sent back to the Plantation for a good hard education on what it is to work."

Using the "N-word" in full at least a half dozen times to the delight of the crowd, Peterson's most definitive statement described "Barack Hussein Obama" as a "far-left," "liberal", "white-hating", "black liberation theology believing", "wealth redistributing", "lying", "weak", "poor excuse of a man" — words greeted with sustained and thunderous applause. I have it all on tape.

Juxtaposed in stark contrast to a large American flag gently waving in the background — venomous hatred filled the air. And a Congressman was there.

Tom McClintock currently represents California's 4th District, which now includes Oakhurst and much of Eastern Madera County.

Speaking immediately before Peterson and providing appropriate theme introduction, Representative McClintock addressed the audience on "The Principles of Freedom", specifically citing "SEIU Thugs" as "a threat to free enterprise" and characterizing Chief Justice John Roberts' ruling on The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act as "an abomination" and "utterly catastrophic." Droning from prepared notes, Congressman McClintock endorsed without qualification espoused goals of the national Tea Party movement.

At the last reporting period, Tom McClintock lists "Cash on Hand" for his fall campaign at $346,534 against our own Jack Uppal's more modest $12,902. Adding a double digit Republican over Democratic registration edge into the mix makes odds for victory seem utterly impossible, except for the fact that McClintock provides us with a perfect contrast between chains and change — a critical comparison of selfish robotic control by puppets of established wealth against the sharing forces of true social justice.

Congressman McClintock remains an enthusiastic supporter of the Paul Ryan Budget Plan. Fox-enthralled Yosemite seniors should be reminded that this bill would end Medicare as we know it, replacing it with a voucher system to buy health insurance coverage on the profit driven open market. Actuaries say the fiscally conservative amount of the vouchers would not be nearly enough to replace coverage lost with the end of Medicare.

Given the obvious demographics of our District, I suggest this single issue can carry the day for Jack Uppal — if we can summon the will to back him with time and commitment and help define this moment in history.

As Henry Kissinger once said to President Nixon — "Our position in this matter has the added benefit of being true!"

Chapter Fifty-Eight -- "Obamaphobia for Dummies"

If you've got it – you don't get it.

"Obamaphobia" is herein defined as an emotionally ravaging, soul savaging, highly irrational fear of anything having the most remote connection to the 44th President of the United States of America.

For purposes of helpful diagnosis, the most obvious example can be found in the pejorative phrase "Obamacare", a label immediately applied to The Affordable Care Act of 2010 by oppositional forces. By way of illustration, although national polling consistently reveals dramatic across-the-board majority support of the Act's key elements, such approval drops significantly when presented as "Obamacare."

A new Reuters poll in late June shows that while 56 percent of Americans claim to oppose the law as a whole when it's spoken of as "Obamacare", most of those surveyed emphatically back its primary components.

61 percent of respondents favor allowing young adults to stay on their parents' insurance plans until age 26. 72 percent wish to maintain the requirement that companies with more than 50 workers provide health insurance for their employees and a full 82 percent of respondents favor banning insurance companies from denying coverage to people with pre-existing conditions.

Other easy examples of Obamaphobia are the dozens upon dozens of outright lies fashioned by coldly cynical, brilliantly sophisticated, highly paid manipulators and fed to millions through the Internet, Talk Radio and Fox News. And I don't mean good old fashioned, all American "spin." They just make stuff up.

Consequently, many folks have honestly come to believe that Barack Obama is a Marxist-worshiping, Communist-kissing, Socialist-leaning, power-crazed, job-killing, deficit-loving, freedom-ending, dope-smoking, wife-swapping, orphan-strangling, Satan-worshipping African Muslim with suspiciously expansive ears hiding secret communications gear directly linking him through implanted microchips to invisible masters elsewhere — unknown and unseen.

The biggest lie of all is that our President "can't run on his record."

Kindly consider that Barack Obama has:

• Ended the war in Iraq.

• Completed planning to get us out of Afghanistan.

• Greatly increased access to health care for all Americans.

• Signed The Ledbetter Fair Pay Act for Women.

• Created at least 3 million new jobs through his economic recovery program.

• Protected Women's Right to Choose.

• Closed the Medicare Prescription Drug "Donut Hole."

• Forced Insurance Company rebates to consumers.

• Saved the American Auto Industry from collapse.

• Supervised our lowest Federal Tax rates in the last 30 years.

• Presided over the smallest increases in Federal spending of any recent President and \--

• Killed Osama Bin Laden.

Then compare Barack Obama to his presumed opponent in November — "Mighty Mitt." Here he comes to save the day!

"Mighty Mitt" — a wealthy, robotic, smarmy puppet of the ruling class who believes corporations are people, has kept five sons out of military service and changes his stories faster than a frog on fire.

"Mighty Mitt" — judged by the British press as being "worse than Sarah Palin" following an epic display of horridly failed statesmanship at the Summer Olympics. What a tool. What a fool. Hardly cool.

The slowest snail on a fish tank wall should understand these things.

And spread the word –

"Obamaphobia" is for Dummies!"

Chapter Fifty-Nine -- "Chicken a la Huckabee"

Miles Parker Romney (1843-1904)

"There's battle lines being drawn. Nobody's right if everybody's wrong. Young people speaking their minds. Getting so much resistance from behind.

"

"For What It's Worth" – Buffalo Springfield (1966)

Assuming that Dan Cathy, President and Chief Operating Officer of Chick-fil-A, meant what he said when he told The Baptist Press that he was "very much supportive of the Biblical definition of the family unit", it might be cynically suggested that hundreds of area Christians lined up at Fresno's River Park Chick-fil-A outlet on August 1st in enthusiastic support of boundless polygamy as endorsed by Mitt Romney's Great Grandfather, Miles Park Romney, when he fled to Mexico in 1885 with his five wives — Caroline, Millie, Catherine, Alice and Hannah — Mitt's Great-Grandmother.

The Old Testament is loaded with ladies who were a one-man woman to a many women man. That's just how things were — a culturally inherited predisposition. It was just that way.

Genesis 4:19 –"And Lamech took unto him two wives."

Genesis 26:34 – "Esau... took to wife Judith the daughter of Beeri the Hittite, and Bashemath the daughter of Elon the Hittite."

And — taking the gold –

1 Kings 11:2-3 — "Solomon... had seven hundred wives... and three hundred concubines."

In the New Testament, we see such passages as Matthew 25:1, that reads, "Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom." At the time of Christ, polygamy was common in Jewish culture and practiced as a traditional custom by early Christians, although banned by Roman law.

Justin Martyr (AD 100 -165), an early Christian apologist considered a Saint by the Roman Catholic Church, observed it was common for a Jewish man to have four or five wives. In fact, polygamy remained a Jewish institution until formally banned by Rabbi Gershom ben Judah in 1000 A.D.

One of the few true constants in our human experience is the inevitability of change, an obvious notion ignored at substantial intellectual peril by many who should know better. Mr. Cathy's pronouncement has nothing to do with First Amendment rights, such stipulations enacted to curtail governmental restrictions against free speech.

But there is no guarantee of impunity – no Constitutional limitation to reaction for — or against such commentary as uttered by Cathy.

Dan-Dan the Chicken Man had a perfect right to say what he did, historically and theologically nonsensical or not. Supportive forces had an equally perfect right to answer Mike Huckabee's clarion call for communal chicken and I hereby claim my perfect right to suggest the Chick-fil-A turnout was driven immeasurably more by latent homophobia than liturgical heroics.

The faithful flock at Westboro Baptist believes that God hates queers.

The average Christian recoils at such despicable lunacy and considers those Westboro Baptists insufferable – if not insane.

But in the case of Same Sex Marriage, we witness an uncomfortable confrontation between what are perceived as the laws of God against those of man. It's nothing new.

"And Jesus answering said to them, Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's. And they marveled at him." Mark 12:17

Thus — Biblically — ambiguity abounds.

Nothing is crystal clear – or clean cut – or plain as day.

The search for Truth can be found in all lands and in many diverse philosophies, none greater or wiser. Each belief system offers its own dynamics and is a reflection of the transcendental nature of its core culture.

The Holy Bible or Koran or Talmud or Book of Mormon or Book of The Dead or Rig Veda or Avesta or Amitabha Sutra or hundreds of other sacred scriptures represent "God's word" only as defined by fallible followers — particularly errant when accompanied by self-serving insistence on spiritual exclusivity.

It's just that way.

Chapter Sixty -- "Panic in the Party"

I totally agree with Mike Huckabee on this one.

"The Party's leaders have for reasons that aren't rational, left Todd Akin behind on the political battlefield, wounded and bleeding. In a Party that supposedly stands for life, it was tragic to see the carefully orchestrated and systematic attack on a fellow Republican. Who ordered this "Code Red?"

– Mike Huckebee - Letter to Supporters — 8/23/2012.

Everything all started when Congressman Todd Akin, running for the U.S. Senate in Missouri, was being interviewed early Sunday morning, August 19th, on KTVI -TV in Saint Louis. Discussing possible exceptions to an absolute ban on abortions, Akin came up with a doozy when he observed, "If it's a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down." As nuts as that sounds – and is — poor Todd didn't make that up all by himself.

In his book "Why Can't We Love Them Both: Questions and Answers About Abortion," Dr. John C. Willke, former President of the National Right to Life Committee, claims that the trauma associated with "assault rape" makes "a woman's body less habitable and thus lessens the possibility of pregnancy." Although the scientific community at large has declared this allegation intellectually baseless, Mitt Romney himself welcomed the endorsement of Dr. John Willke in 2007, declaring in an official campaign release — "Dr. Willke is a leading voice within the pro-life community and will be an important surrogate for Governor Romney's pro-life and pro-family agenda."

So it's a mystery why, in less than 48 hours, Todd Akin was utterly castigated by fellow Republicans for parroting what investigation reveals was a fairly popular ideological fantasy. Almost every major party figure faithfully fell into immediate obeisant lock step line without further question or commentary in calling for Akin's withdrawal from the Missouri race.

And that's the part that scares me. Who panicked? Who did order this "Code Red?" It sure worked. Sort of.

It doesn't seem to have been Mitt Romney. Displaying characteristic out front leadership, Mitt waited till everybody else went first before bravely intoning, "Todd Akin's comments were offensive and wrong and he should very seriously consider what course would be in the best interest of our county." It wasn't until another 24 hours passed that Romney summoned up enough testicular fortitude to add,"Today, his fellow Missourians urged him to step aside, and I think he should accept their counsel and exit the Senate race."

But Akin wasn't afraid of the big, bad Mitt. He's in the fight till the finish, not only against sitting Democratic Senator Claire McCaskill, but also in opposition to powerful pressures from virtually the entire national Republican establishment. Mike Huckebee is the only clear and — I must say — heroic exception to obviously top-ordered consensus. But, again, just who is "on high" in all this with firm control on a remarkably efficient and, I admit, functionally enviable lever?

I assure you such a display of unequivocal, automatic, mindless unity would never occur in Democratic circles. Hah! Are you kidding me?

That's why those who repeat allegations that "Obama could have done anything he wanted his first two years in office with a Democratic majority in the House and Senate" ignore one plain fact. Reality.

Factoring into the mix a large segment of "Blue Dog" (i.e., "conservative leaning") Democrats in the House and, more importantly, a Republican minority in the Senate still large enough to block dozens upon dozens of progressive initiatives with the threat of a filibuster, Barack didn't stand a chance.

So it is that — as much as I abhor Akin's since rescinded recital on "legitimate rape" and hope Ms. McCaskill trounces him thoroughly in November — I must salute Todd Akin's unwavering dedication to his beliefs and Mike Huckabee's loyalty in backing same.

Ultimately, the idea of inherent, God-ordained resistance to rape sperm is really no crazier than other right-wing delusions of the day, including demonizing Obamacare, denying the desired destruction of Medicare and Social Security, insisting that "trickle down" still works, stoking the flames of yet another profit-laden Mideast war and, yes, even hoping we can be forced to pretend that an acorn is an oak tree in defining "personhood".

However — all that doesn't help in determining who — or what — ordered "Code Red" on Congressman Akin.

Is there's a big unknown hand moving our way?

Chapter Sixty-One -- "Debate Goes On?"

Old Main College

Galesburg, Illinois

Scene of Lincoln-Douglas Debate

October 7, 1858

McClintock had them in stitches.

It was his blowing up a church story.

As painstakingly chronicled by Carmen George in last week's issue of The Sierra Star, Fourth California District Congressman Tom McClintock visited us on September 6th and told a group gathered at the Coarsegold Community Center about how awful it's been having our nation involved in "sort-of-wars". For example, McClintock cited recent rules of engagement that prohibited chasing insurgents seeking sanctuary into a mosque. He then spoke of a grizzled old World War Two vet who was asked if he would have followed Germans into a church during combat. "Good heavens, no," the veteran said. "We would have blown up the church" – "an answer met by a roar of laughter from the crowd."

If we re-elect Tom McClintock, the joke's on us.

In reading Ms. George's extensive McClintock quotes from Coarsegold and an earlier session before several dozen folks at Erna's –"Heaven Sent for the One Percent" — it almost seemed as though our Sierra Star had become "The Troglodyte Times."

Rather than drag readers through an endless litany of sad misjudgments, multiple contradictions, paranoid reflections, utter fabrications and agonizingly turgid rhetoric, suffice it to say Tom McClintock won't have my vote — or that of anyone honestly paying attention and making a fair evaluation. Such consideration would come from balancing Tom McClintock's history and hysterics against —???????????????

Do you know anything about –??????????????????

Most folks around here haven't clue– and it's not their fault.

Democrats usually don't stand a chance in this new "Fourth District" and some years haven't even put up a candidate in the old "Nineteenth District" in which we used to reside. Registered Republicans outnumber Democrats by double digits and can outspend them a million zillion trillion to one, this observation only slightly hyperbolic.

So here comes this guy from way up in Lincoln, over 200 miles north of Oakhurst, who arrived here from India in 1961 at the age of 10 without knowing any language other than that of his birth. His immigrant family was poor and struggled on a minimal income, his mother babysitting and his brother delivering newspapers to bring home more money. By the age of 18, he became a naturalized citizen speaking perfect English. Then he worked hard and studied harder.

He received a Bachelor of Science Degree in Chemistry from the State University of New York and his Ph.D in Chemistry from M.I. T. in 1980. Not a slouch. This led to a brilliant career in the semiconductor industry as an engineer, rising in management to oversee new products and businesses and implement annual budgets of over a billion dollars.

Jack Uppal has retired and is ready to work for you.

May he have an interview?

An opportunity for such may be shortly forthcoming through the Oakhurst Chamber of Commerce – a "Meet and Greet" in October similar to that afforded Representative McClintock with plenty of time to ask questions, take notes and enter into conscientious reflection and open discussion with Mr. Uppal and others in attendance.

What would really be perfect and put us all on the map would be an Oakhurst debate between Tom McClintock and Jack Uppal. Jack has already indicated his enthusiastic acceptance of such a challenge and herein encourages Tom to follow his lead and do likewise.

Representative McClintock is certainly used to sharing the stage with others, having spoken at this year's Central Valley Tea Party Freedom Rally on the Fourth of July just before Jesse Peterson's bitter commentary on Barack Obama, referring to our President as a "far-left," "liberal", "white-hating", "black liberation theology believing", "wealth redistributing", "lying", "weak", "poor excuse of a man" — and other hints of displeasure.

Jack Uppal is supportive of the Transportation & Jobs Act, Returning Tax Dollars to the District, Lowering Student Loan Costs, Rural Development Funding, Children's Health Care, Equal Pay for Women, The Violence Against Women Act, the Food Safety Act, Homeland Security, Funding for our Military, the Campaign Disclosure Act, Opposition to Employment Discrimination, Payroll Tax Cuts and Science and Technology Funding, while Tom McClintock has voted against all these things.

Jack is strongly opposed to Privatizing Social Security and Ending Medicare, while Tom has voted for and/or indicated his firm endorsement numerous times of both. Hey, seniors! He'll even open up that "Donut Hole" bigger than before. Want to fall back in?

Do I have anything wrong there, Congressman McClintock? Candidate Uppal?

We're waiting in Oakhurst — hoping to close the door on vacuum inflicted ignorance with a public hearing and open minds.

We can't become more with anything less.

Chapter Sixty-Two -- "Someone I'd Like You To Meet"

There's someone I'd like you to meet.

The timing is perfect.

We all just received our "Sample Ballot and Voter Information Pamphlet" from Rebecca Martinez, County Clerk-Recorder and Registrar of Voters for Madera County, and this year it's none too soon.

Did you know Roseanne Barr is running for President?

Are you aware your polling place may have moved?

Have you had time to review all eleven Propositions being placed before us – several somewhat ambiguous and curiously named?

Since retiring from a "regular job" after five decades in broadcasting and moving to Oakhurst from Michigan on Election Day '06, I have enjoyed an opportunity to become more involved in the political process, something I wish I had done sooner in life.

As I was discussing with area Tea Party Coordinator John Pero just a few days ago, although we certainly hold divergent views in a number of areas, we completely agree that patriotic vigilance calls for much more than simply voting once a year.

Regardless of party affiliation, political philosophy or competing priorities, every one of us should pay much more attention to governmental activity at all levels and, particularly, to our own roles in determining the nature and extent of such governance.

Individual review and reflection are critical to positive collective progress and the actual realization of a government so eloquently defined by our 16th President as being "of the people, by the people and for the people."

Politicians and Parties are not "all the same" and any such observation is no more than a lazy excuse for irresponsible citizenship. It is critical that we review every side of an issue, analyze all options presented and critically evaluate competing candidates for public office.

Jack Uppal will be driving over 400 miles roundtrip from his home in Lincoln, California, to visit with you next Wednesday, October 10th, with a "Meet and Greet" from 5:30 till 7:30 at the Queen's Inn on Highway 41.

It will be a casual, informal event. There is no admission fee. Come as you are. Jack will share a few thoughts, then be on the firing line for any questions anybody has about — anything at all. He wants to represent you in Congress from California's newly defined Fourth District and won't be holding back.

Jack is running against Tom McClintock, currently completing his second term representing the old Fourth District. Since neither Tom nor Jack are from "around here", they're both as new to us as an iPhone 5, just not as shiny and slick. At least not Jack. Since we're losing Jeff Denham anyway, we're really starting from scratch in choosing either Tom or Jack. A fair comparison between the two is not only recommended, but also essential in formulating honest judgment, let alone proper representation.

I'm hoping that Tom McClintock will join us next Wednesday at the Queen's Inn and engage in a debate with Jack Uppal over the future of our lives and liberties. Mr. McClintock's campaign office has received a formal invitation to do so — extended through the non-partisan auspices of the Oakhurst Chamber of Commerce — and he has been assured of impartial moderation, convivial questioning and courteous civility extended at every turn during his stay in Oakhurst.

Jack Uppal has already enthusiastically agreed to such an arrangement.

By way of a "sneak preview", you are herein encouraged to turn to Page 20-1 of that Madera County Voter Information Pamphlet you received in the mail. You will find a formal "Statement of a Candidate For US Representative in Congress Fourth District." Both Jack Uppal and Tom McClintock offer a brief summary of their respective positions.

Jack writes, "I will cut unnecessary spending, bring jobs back to our district, rebuild our crumbling infrastructure, and invest in science and technology programs for our future."

Tom states, "I stand with America's Founders."

Hopefully, Representative McClintock will temporarily adjust his vantage point and stand with us here in the Twenty-First Century next Wednesday night for a "Meet and Greet Jack Uppal" at the Queen's Inn from 5:30 until 7:30.

Wine not?

I conclude with this observation from one of America's Founders:

"We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which fitted him when a boy as civilized society to remain ever under the regimen of their barbarous ancestors." — Thomas Jefferson (1816)

Chapter Sixty-Three -- "Michael and Me and Mc Can't Talk"

Only Known Picture of Michael Moore On The Far Right

WWCK Staff Picture -- 1982

Your boss knows best.

Vote as you're told.

That's the implicit command 45,000 employees of Georgia Pacific received in the mail last week from their employer — Koch Industries — owned by the Koch brothers.

A generally unrecognized aspect of the Supreme Court's 2010 "Citizens United" decision defining corporations as "persons" and money as "free speech" is that it also overturned previous Federal Election Commission laws prohibiting employers from expressing "electoral opinions" directly to their workers.

Florida billionaire David Siegel has informed his 7,000 employees of Westgate Resorts that an Obama victory would likely lead to layoffs at his company.

ASG Software Solutions CEO Arthur Allen has specifically warned employees that an Obama second term might well cost them their jobs.

Mitt Romney even told a group of self-described small business owners; "I hope you make it very clear to your employees what you believe is in the best interest of your enterprise and therefore their job and their future in the upcoming elections."

The November 6th elections are shaping up as the most important in our lifetime, establishing a governmental framework for generations to come in a political configuration either boldly moving forward into the future or ripping us backward toward a time before Social Security, Unemployment Insurance, Medicare, Medicaid and other enlightened benefits that eventually emerged in the wake of the 19th Amendment granting universal suffrage in 1920 — giving women the right to vote. But have they had control of their bodies long enough?

It's happening all over the place. Big money is moving in for the kill. And the most infamous freedom killers of all are the Koch brothers.

Yet — even as a front page Fresno Bee headline earlier this month alarmingly proclaimed, "Super rich Kochs aim to save America", the Democratic Club of Oakhurst had completed arrangements to offer "Koch Brothers Exposed" as a key attraction in their "Pre-Election Bringing Home the TRUTH Rally" at 7:30 PM this Saturday, October 27th, at the Oakhurst Met Cinemas. "Koch Brothers Exposed" is a full-length, 55 minute documentary, wildly heralded as timely, true and terrific.

I've asked an old friend to join us.

Academy Award Winning Film Director Michael Moore wrote and produced "Fahrenheit 9/11", the highest grossing motion picture documentary of all time with over two hundred million dollars in worldwide receipts. It was 2004 winner of the Palme d'Or — the highest prize awarded at the Cannes Film Festival. Other film projects include "Roger & Me" (1989), "Canadian Bacon" (1995), "Bowling for Columbine" (2002), "Sicko" (2007) and "Capitalism: A Love Story" (2009.) Michael has also gained notoriety as a writer, "Stupid White Men" (2001) and "Dude: Where's My Country?" (2003) and as a television producer/performer with "TV Nation" (1994-1995) and "The Awful Truth" (1999).

But he was just Mike Moore when the Richfield Township Board of Supervisors tried to put us both out of business in the mid-70's. I was running outdoor rock concerts attended by Mr. Moore and his friends from Davison High at a place called "Sherwood Forest." Mike had established "The Davison Hotline" as a call center for troubled teens. Township authorities told our local paper I was "The Pied Piper of Satan" promoting "rock music from hell" and claimed Mike was obviously a "major trouble maker" dealing with such forbidden, un-American topics as birth control, mental health and drug counseling. Joined together by a common foe, I put Mike on the radio with "Radio Free Flint" and — we've never looked back.

As fate would have it, Mike's sister, Anne Moore, lives in Grass Valley. Her Congressman since 2008 has been Tom McClintock, running in the new Fourth California Congressional District that now includes Oakhurst. When I mentioned our "Pre-Election Bringing Home The TRUTH Rally" to Mike, he said he'd love to take part and share a few thoughts about the national scene, but, even more critically, discuss his endorsement of Jack Uppal and how this decision relates to ever increasing domination of the rich over the rest — oligarchy at its best.

This subjugation of Constitutional intent is dramatically witnessed by McClintock's own words in the Stockton Journal on October 9th when, in excusing himself from debating candidate Uppal, he bluntly stated, "I'd be happy to debate Jack in a neutral forum the moment he takes the race seriously. But he is not. He hasn't raised enough money to be competitive in a county supervisor's race let alone in a Congressional race."

Sitting on almost a million dollars in his campaign fund against less than forty thousand in his opponent's, McClintock's fear of debate is further verified by his refusal to appear with Uppal at The Queen's Inn on October 10th, although invited to do so by our non-partisan Oakhurst Chamber of Commerce. McClintock's campaign also haughtily turned down an offer from The League of Women Voters, finding this female organization much too " Democratic."

Michael Moore will be linked live from his home in Northern Michigan to fully explore the relationship between Congressman McClintock and big bucks — then take any and all questions from those in attendance.

So, it's "Koch Brothers Exposed" and "Radio Free Oakhurst with Michael Moore" this Saturday at 7:30 PM at The Met Cinema. Free admission. The general public is enthusiastically encouraged to attend. Bring Republican friends.

I'm Peter Cavanaugh and I approve this message.

Chapter Sixty-Four -- "Sea Change?"

"If we don't run Chris Christie, Romney will be the nominee and we'll lose."

– Ann Coulter — Pedantic pundit and fingernails on a blackboard screaming scourge of anyone politically left of King George the Third — February 12, 2011 — addressing the Conservative Political Action Conference in Washington.

So how ironic it was witnessing the Governor of New Jersey, keynote speaker at the 2012 Republican National Convention, repeatedly lavishing effusive praise on Democratic candidate Barack Obama last week as Federal and State governments effectively and efficiently joined forces in the aftermath of one of the most violent oceanic storms in our American experience — in the process providing a critical pivot point in one of the closest Presidential elections in history.

What a finish line first!

And it all made perfect sense.

Talk about a "win-win-win" proposition!

President Obama obtained an enormous boost in bipartisan acceptance and credibility.

Governor Christie scored equal measures of both and paved the way for a smoother road to re-election next year in New Jersey and nomination as head of the G.O.P. ticket in 2016.

But, most importantly, America won.

In setting aside arbitrary, unyielding ideological positions and offering up each other's available talents and treasures for a common good, President Obama and Governor Christie got things done.

How wonderful it will be should this represent a truly sea changing harbinger of positive things to come.

Let's unlock some doors and throw away some keys.

I've always been intellectually perplexed and emotionally frustrated by the horrible notion that conventional custom requires friendly dialogue to avoid any discussion of "religion or politics." What could be possibly more interesting? Zumba?

The fact of the matter is — we all actually know very little about a lot.

In earliest days, radio was my window to the world. Recalling living pictures more than sound, "Let's Pretend" from CBS was unmatched. Cream of Wheat was the first and only sponsor of "Let's Pretend". It was the early '40′s.

"Cream of Wheat is so good to eat, Yes, we have it every day. We sing this song, it will make us strong, And it makes us shout – Hooray!"

"Let's Pretend" was make believe – a Saturday morning children's program offering whimsical tales of fantasy and fairy tales. It was the life work of Nila Mack, a Kansas woman who had been an actress on Broadway. She felt the best way to tell a children's story was with kids. Mack developed a company of versatile juveniles who could play a variety of changing roles week after week. She trained and directed two generations of child actors. She was known as "the fairy god-mother of radio." When I met LuLu Finley of "Golden Chain Theater", I thought of Nila.

Nila would say — "Hello Pretenders! Hello, Uncle Bill!" "LET'S PRETEND!"

Were I in charge of all organized religions in every church, temple, synagogue, mosque or Irish bar around the world, I would insist that the beginning of each formal service require all in attendance to rise in unison from their seats, hold hands, and joyously, lovingly whisper:

"Permissum Nos Simulatio!"

"Let's Pretend!"

A collective quest for sanity only becomes credible in honest acknowledgement of the universal proclivity of our species to make stuff up, simultaneously acknowledging one's own tiresome tendencies to tickle truth in the telling of a tale.

It's all in how you look at it — all in how you study it.

And share.

Kitchy-kitchy-koo.

Chapter Sixty-Five -- "Strange Daze"

Early Wednesday morning on November 7th, following his re-election as President of the United States, Barack Obama graciously attempted to call Republican Speaker of the House, John Boehner, and Republican Senate Minority Leader, Mitch McConnell, to assure them of his desire to constructively work with the new Congress in addressing many pressing concerns facing our nation. In both instances, the President was told Boehner and McConnell were sound asleep with instructions not to be disturbed.

I initially found this more than a bit puzzling- — perhaps even an unpleasant echo of last July's refusal by Boehner to return three Presidential phone calls near the conclusion of the divisive and completely unnecessary "debt ceiling crisis" instigated by Tea Party purists last year. This debacle eventually resulted in adoption of the infamous "Budget Control Act of 2011″, which then led Standard and Poor to downgrade the credit rating of the United States government from AAA to AA in early August and set the stage for the "Fiscal Cliff" looming before us on December 31st — a challenge which really isn't news at all to anyone who's been paying attention.

But Boehner and McConnell weren't the only ones displaying strange behavior in the wake of final election results. A number of sources report Governor Romney was absolutely "shell shocked" and "dazed" as the reality of his dramatic defeat became more and more undeniable, particularly since he had only written an acceptance speech, disdaining the need for preparation of any concessionary language. Romney also had authorized a "Transitional Website" depicting him as President-Elect, a decision causing further embarrassment when it accidentally went on line. Plans were scrubbed at the last minute by the campaign for an eight-minute display of fireworks over Boston Harbor. Meanwhile, things were even more publicly humiliating over at FOX News.

Karl Rove is a leading Republican operative and fleecer of several hundred million dollars in political action committee (PAC) funds from billionaires who should have known better and won't be getting their money back. Mr. Rove is also on the payroll as a "News Commentator" on "Fair and Balanced" FOX and was right there in the thick of things Tuesday night when he freaked-out on the air before millions of stunned viewers who had been promised a landslide Romney win of historic proportion. Ohio was his Waterloo.

At 8:13 PM Oakhurst Time, FOX News analysts declared that President Obama had carried Ohio, a win that virtually assured him a second term in office. Karl Rove instantly insisted that couldn't possibly be true, claiming that he was on the phone with a senior Romney official who was furious that the network had blown the call.

After twenty minutes of heated confrontation between Rove and FOX's team of voting analysts, anchor Megyn Kelly took matters in her own hands and stormed thirty yards down the hall on camera to confront Arnon Mishkin, leader of the decision team. In no uncertain terms, Mishkin more than satisfactorily proved his position before everyone watching — by that point adding that President Obama had not only placed first in Ohio, but had conclusively carried the day nationally.

With all this in mind, my own suspicion is that Senator McConnell and Speaker Boehner were "sleeping" when the President called following his victory because –they just didn't know what to say. Without reservation or qualification, they honestly had become thoroughly convinced that Romney would crush his opposition and commence the initiation of an irresistible ideological fantasy –a Republican Permanent Majority in Congress and the Presidency – a reign faithfully promised by Rove and his ill-starred ilk. Few things can leave one feeling so alone and vulnerable as failed group-think.

As a people, we cannot afford to be represented by those who only believe what comforts convictions and conforms to preconditioned mindsets. Open hearts are a prerequisite for congenial debate and wide-awake leadership is essential for just governance.

I'm trusting my friends of Conservative persuasion will note the emerging consequences of choreographed, talking point, echo chamber rhetoric.

And won't get fooled again.

Chapter Sixty-Six -- "A Christmas Wish"

Good for us!

As a consequence of the November elections, our California Democratic Party now enjoys supermajority status in State government and can take great satisfaction in the approval of Proposition 30 to the delight of Governor Brown and defeat of Proposition 32 to the horror of corporate union haters.

Nationally, President Obama has decisively won a second term in office, we have increased the Democratic majority in the U.S. Senate to 51, bringing our strength to 53 counting two additional "Independents" -- and have begun to narrow heavy Republican domination of the House with the new tally now 242 "them" vs. 193 "us."

Here in Oakhurst, it was terrific arranging for a "Meet and Greet" session with Fourth Congressional District Democratic Candidate Jack Uppal at the Queens' Inn in cooperation with the Oakhurst Chamber of Commerce on October 10th, then concluding our local club campaign efforts on the 27th with wall-to-wall, standing room only attendance for "Koch Brothers Exposed" and a live link-up with Film Director Michael Moore at the Met Cinema. This event sadly marked the last "full crowd" turnout for the complex prior to its untimely closing four days later. I'd like to think we gave it a fine goodbye.

And where are we now? Pretty much where we were before, but with a bit of welcomed traction.

One thing has not changed \-- a mindless, poisonous, unwarranted hatred of Barack Obama by a Conservative core continually fed by FOX News, Talk Radio and the Christian right. The name "Obama" has become emotionally synonymous with such classically condemned figures as Satan, Mao Tse Tung and even, according to local righter, J. R. "Junior" Froelich, Adolf Hitler. Froelich even closed a recent Sierra Star column with the words of "You should be afraid. Be very afraid" in a final burst of pure, purple prose paranoia bemoaning the President's 332 to 206 Electoral victory.

We should have a lot on our agenda. My own list would include a quicker end to our involvement in Afghanistan, movement to amend the Constitution with negation of the Supreme Court's now infamous "Citizens United " decision, continuing evolution of "Obamacare" toward truly universal health care (i.e., "Medicare for ALL"), Immigration Reform, and the restoration of Glass Steagall regulations to harness future Wall Street abuses. Those are highlights.

I would also push for restoration of the FCC "Fairness Doctrine" tossed aside by Democratic leaders following Obama's first election in 2008 in an attempted signal of bipartisanship -- an abandonment of basic principles that gained us absolutely nothing except snickering Republican ridicule at such a display of novice naivete.

Along with insistence on being able to obtain equal time for opposing viewpoints on Federally regulated broadcast stations, I would also call for license revocation of any facility claiming to be "religious" that offers significant political commentary of a clearly non-spiritual nature, including specific candidate endorsements. While supposedly discouraged by current law, such practices have become ubiquitous.

It's infuriating.

Check 91.5 FM (K218CZ) beaming down from Deadwood. Here's a Christmas wish for the station's "Contemporary Inspirational" programmers. How about a little Holiday reflection upon the words of Exodus 20:16?

"Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness Against Thy Neighbor."

Especially if he lives in The White House.

Chapter Sixty-Seven -- "The Right Amount of Dumb"

That I've found more truth in bars than churches through the years is more a subjective recollection than a substantive recommendation, but it's a reflection that found new validation recently when Casey came up with a wonderful phrase seemingly out of nowhere.

Casey Schuetz is President/Owner of MAMA TRYD Productions and has been busy staging live band presentations locally at The Oak Room for the last year or so. We were recently enjoying a few adult beverages together at that fine establishment when Casey started reminiscing about an uncle of his who had a way with words. In offering qualified evaluation of the world in general and certain people in particular, Casey's uncle would often say that sometimes it all comes down to "just the right amount of dumb."

Those words struck me like a diamond bullet. I almost spilled my Irish Car Bomb. Almost. For the uninitiated, an Irish Car Bomb is made with Guinness Stout, Bailey's Irish Cream and Jameson's Irish Whiskey. It was invented in 1979 at Wilson's Saloon in Norwich, Connecticut. Once poured, it must be consumed quickly or it curdles like a lost love, perhaps abandoned for chronically exhibiting "the right amount of dumb."

Indeed, until that close to a wasted whiskey moment, it had never dawned on me that there actually might be a critical mass of ignorance that, once achieved, renders future reversal or redemption functionally impossible. In this context, please note that the word "ignorant" doesn't mean stupidity, but, according to Noah Webster, indicates "a deliberate disregard of reality" and "dumb" should be similarly considered by its first dictionary definition as "lacking the power of speech; mute."

In a collective sense, "the right amount of dumb" comes about when, for reasons of conviviality or convenience, we tolerate and at times enthusiastically embrace core nonsense even at the risk of cataclysmic peril.

Setting aside all 70,000 square feet of "Creation Museum" in Petersburg, Kentucky ($29.95 for Adults 13-59) \-- the science is irrefutable.

We balance in precise planetary alignment. Above is the Sun, while beyond orbit frigid sister planets. Below churns the molten core of an Earth upon which we rest in cool comfort -- between Fire and Ice.

We're moving one hundred miles per second (one quick breath) in our annual journey around the Sun, and that doesn't factor an expansion of the Universe that may even exceed the speed of light.

"Hang On, Sloopy" — The McCoys (1965)

"Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." Genesis 3:19

In the physical realm, we are pure stardust.

We cooled four billion years ago when Earth was formed.

We'll be free again in another four billion years when the Sun runs out of hydrogen and becomes a giant red star.

We humans haven't been in charge very long. It took hundreds of generations thousands of years to guess our planet has more sides than one. You'd think the Moon might have provided the clever with a clue.

In one of his more wildly optimistic moments, noted Astronomer/Scientist/Pot Smoker Carl Sagan once calculated chances of the human race avoiding self-extermination through a full nuclear exchange at less than one percent.

It's become so fashionable to ignore the obvious.

And yet I somehow intuitively sense that in the end we'll all be fabulously fine in spite of ourselves.

If it's not too late to preach and practice the right amount of smart.

This Holiday Season seems a perfect place to start.

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." \-- Luke 2:14

Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

PRESS RELEASE

September 1, 2011

Peter C. Cavanaugh is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland has just unveiled a complete Museum redesign that tells the story of rock and roll in a more linear fashion and updates all museum technology to state-of-the-art including the interactive kiosks On the Air: Rock and Roll and Radio. Mr. Cavanaugh and his impact on rock music are featured in this exhibit.

At the age of sixteen in 1957, Peter C. Cavanaugh enjoyed a fifty-eight percent total audience share on his hometown station — WNDR in Syracuse. He maintained unequaled market dominance for years over WTAC in Flint before leaving the airwaves to become President of the station in 1977. His book "Local DJ" tracks Cavanaugh's radio adventures through time — as well as promoting and producing literally hundreds of early concerts with the likes of Chuck Berry, The Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, The Who, Bob Seger, Ted Nugent, Alice Cooper, Kiss and AC/DC.

As Executive Vice President of Reams Broadcasting, Peter ran a seven station radio group which included the top-rated Rock 'n' Roll stations in America — WWCK in Flint (Spring '84) and WIOT in Toledo (Winter '91). Mr. Cavanaugh is former Chairman of the NBC Source Board, President of the ABC Radio Affiliates Board and President of the Flint Area Advertising Federation. Peter lives in Oakhurst, California, with his wife, Eileen.

"Of all who had a major influence on me while growing up in the Midwest, none matched the audaciousness, tenacity and gonzo-like behavior of Peter Cavanaugh. He was more than just the Rock & Roll guru who gave America its first encounters with The Who, Bob Seger and all the great Detroit bands (Ted Nugent, Alice Cooper, MC5, etc.) He was the one who taught me how to go up against the powers-that-be and live to tell all. Thank you, Peter Cavanaugh, for saving a generation of Flint kids from the likes of Pat Boone" — Michael Moore.

The On the Air: Rock and Roll and Radio kiosks are located in the Museum's Ahmet Ertegun Hall in the Cities and Sounds gallery.

COOL LINKS:

"Digital Scrapbook" \-- http://www.wildwednesday.com

"Professional Website" \-- http://www.petercavanaugh.com

Peter C. "Blog Site" \-- http://www.petercavanaugh.wordpress.com

Facebook Link -- http://www.facebook.com/peter.cavanaugh1

To Write Peter Cavanaugh \-- mailto:ledzep2001@aol.com

"Remembering WTAC" \-- http://www.facebook.com/big6WTAC

"Sherwood Forest Concerts" \-- http://www.facebook.com/SherwoodForestInDavisonMI

