CSD Board Meeting August 7

This is an important meeting for residents because the CSD board is discussing what to put on the ballot for us to vote on in November about our police department. Originally the board voted to ask approval to increase funding but due to some issue with public notice, they have instead decided the question instead should be whether we want to keep the PD or not. Apparently that will be the topic on Thursday the 7th at the Community Center at 5:30PM.

There are many pros and cons for each choice; the Citizens Task Force has laid these out in their report which was given to the board a year ago. To obtain a copy for yourself you may wish to contact a board member or call the LSPOA office at 938-3281. The CSD Board members are Beverly Roths, Carol Cupp, Jack Dean, Tom Wetter, and Richard Negro.

Once again, this is a big decision with many, many long-lasting implications and we owe it to ourselves to be well-informed before November rolls around. There are two more Town Hall meetings coming up too, watch the paper for the dates. I will try to announce them here, as well. I'm so convinced we need to be involved that I will try and organize a car pool if enough people call me (938-0385).

Squash and Me

I hate squash. My mother used to make me eat it and she even put butter or sugar on to help disguise its true, ugly nature. But of course it didn't. She even used the "it's good for you" line as mothers seem to do when all else fails.

So ever since those years the best use I can find for squash is to have zuccini for a bat to hit pitched acorn (or any yellow) squash. It gets messy but it's better than eating the darned stuff.

So the other day we discovered some growing near the lawn. I have no idea how the seeds got there, surely I hadn't done that . . . the huge leaves, the pretty yellow blossoms, the whole ugly works.

I naturally hoped it would die. I mean, how could this happen? We don't garden, we don't fertilize. Why me for heaven's sake?

But it kept growing. And growing. Pretty soon you could see those little squash-bodies under the blossoms. Kind of like the eggs in The Alien. They didn't pulse with dark fluids but they looked just like little alien squash babies.

So it came as a devastating surprise when the deer mowed it. I mean, I was shocked. Deer like squash?!?! Why didn't my mom tell me that and we could have prevented all those years of suffering?

Retraction; Smear Campaign Against Obama

I just removed an article on Barak Obama thanks to a good friend who pointed out that the NYT article it referenced was a fake. Some of the factual response to the claims made in Dowd's fake article follow.

Cynic though I already am it is hard to believe that there are people out there doing these vicious things. Like most I'm conditioned to believe what I read and I did not even suspect this one. And evidently there are many more lies being spread around about Obama by several individuals and groups. For all I know John McCain is getting smeared, too.

As my friend said, check Snopes.com and Obama's own website to learn more but here is the real (true) story. Note that each rebutted point has a web address so you can confirm:

Fake Maureen Dowd Column Alleging Obamas Fundraising is Coming from Overseas Non-US Citizens
Tuesday, July 08, 2008 at 09:01 AM
SMEAR EMAIL

A June 29th column from Maureen Dowd writes The internet service providers (ISP) they were able to trace were from Saudi Arabia, Iran, and other Middle Eastern countries. One of the banks used for fund transfers was also located in Saudi Arabia. Another concentrated group of donations was traced to a Chinese ISP with a similar pattern of limited credit card charges.

FACT

Dowd wrote no such column. Her column on June 29th was about Hillary Clinton supporters
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/29/opinion/29dowd.html?_r=1&oref=slogin
SMEAR EMAIL

Fake Dowd column says, It became clear that these donations were very likely coming from sources other than American voters. This was discussed at length within the campaign and the decision was made that none of these donations violated campaign financing laws. It was also decided that it was not the responsibility of the campaign to audit these millions of contributions as to the actual source (specific credit card number or bank transfer account numbers) to insure that none of these internet contributors exceeded the legal maximum donation on a cumulative basis of many small donations.

FACT

Donors to the Obama campaign are required to certify that they are U.S. citizens, and the campaign would not accept donations from foreign citizens https://donate.barackobama.com/page/contribute/main?source=homedropdown

(Editor): My apologies to you my readers, to Barak Obama, and especially to my friend Jack.

Flying Boats, the British Queen

As you have surely noticed, I am interested in large flying boats; the Martin Mars, the Spruce Goose, the Pam Am Clippers, and I just now ran across this one. I guess part of the reason is the romance of it . . . they all were born just as the need for passenger seaplanes was dying.

It wasn't the jet engine that killed these beauties as many believe. That came a few years later. Rather, it was the sudden availability of airports directly following WW II. Sounds odd but as countries around the world became liberated, commerce followed and airports with it. Range improved as well and craft that could land on oceans and lakes just didn't fit the bill anymore.

So the Princess (which was based on hopes that BOAC would buy them for trans-oceanic passenger service) lost the race to aircraft like this Boeing 377 Stratocruiser.

Here is an article I found on the web:

Sounders Roe SARO SR.45 "Princess"
In May 1946, work began on Saunders-Roe's largest flying boat, the Princess. She was a two-decked, ten-engined flying boat, weighing
154 tons, and three were built. She was designed to carry a maximum of 220 passengers, and in August, 1952, she flew for the first time.
She was supposed to just undergo taxiing trials that day, yet the test-pilot took off after a very short run-up'. The Princess was the
largest metal flying boat ever made and it flew on numerous occasions, including the Farnborough air display of 1952. However,BOAC the intended customer, did not want them as its flying boat services had ended in 1950. Another problem were the engines, which were not as efficient as they could be. All of the three Princess flying boats were scrapped in Southampton.

Note: TEN engines. The four inboard ones were 'coupled', meaning two separate engines drove two counter-rotating propellers, one engine to each prop, very high tech in those days.

I well appreciate that this comes over as a gear-head article. Still, there is romance in the era. Those Pan Am Clippers have an aura still, in fact there used to be a museum on Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay with Clipper memorabilia that I visited once. Clippers used to land and depart from there on their runs to Hawaii and Hong Kong. I think the museum is gone now too, though.

Sheriff Joe Does it Again

(Thanks to John Kilburn for the following:)

Oh, there's MUCH more to know about Sheriff Joe!

Maricopa County was spending approx. $18 million dollars a year on stray animals, like cats and dogs. Sheriff Joe offered to take the department over and the County Supervisors said okay.

The animal shelters are now all staffed and operated by prisoners. They feed and care for the strays. Every animal in his care is taken out and walked twice daily. He now has prisoners who are experts in animal nutrition and behavior. They give great classes for anyone who'd like to adopt an animal. He has literally taken stray dogs off the street, given them to the care of prisoners, and had them place in dog shows.


The best part is that the budget for the entire department is now under $3 million. Teresa and I adopted a Weimaraner from aMaricopa County shelter two years ago. He was neutered, and current on all shots, in great health, and even had a microchip inserted the day we got him. Cost us $78.

The prisoners get the benefit of about $0.28 an hour for working, but most would work for free, just to be out of their cells for the day. Most of his budget is for utilities, building maintenance, etc. He pays the prisoners out of the fees collected for adopted animals.

I have long wondered when the rest of the country would take a look at the way he runs the jail system, and copy some of his ideas. He has a huge farm, donated to the county years ago, where inmates can work, and they grow most of their own fresh vegetables and food, doing all the work and harvesting by hand. He has a pretty good sized hog farm, which provides meat, and fertilizer. It fertilizes the Christmas tree nursery, where prisoners work, and you can buy a living Christmas tree for $6 - $8 for the Holidays, and plant it later. We have six trees in our yard from the Prison.

Yup, he was reelected last y ear with 83% of the vote.

No Comment

I set this blog up so that people who would like to say something about an article can click on "comments" and put in their two cents. The comment comes to me as an email with three choices: publish, respond, or delete. This latter is to avoid odd remarks from the Funny People.

But I am not getting any. Comments, that is. This can be taken only one way . . . everything I am writing is RIGHT. Of course you think this when you put pen to paper but well, this is a little heady. Sort of like not hearing any dissent you tend to get a little swell (look that one up, it has some interesting definitions).

Suddenly your thoughts become 'smart' and 'timely'. You can imagine the euphoria this brings on. This is dangerous, especially in my hands. To feel relevant and important all of a sudden can lead to illusions of grandeur.

Fortunately, I am aware that you are not complaining or charging me with internet abuse because you are just too . . . busy. Or something.

So I continue to feel free to careen off into the outrageous and enjoy the luxury of a monologue.

Still, it would be nice to hear from someone . . .

Our Mens' Club Here in Lake Shastina

We have a delightful gathering every month which breaks all the rules for Organized Groups. There is no agenda. No minutes. No secretary's report. There are no officers to give boring speeches, and no dues either. In fact there are no rules at all.

It's called simply The Mens' Club and the next "meeting" if you can call them that, is Wednesday the 6th of August at 8 AM in the restaurant at the golf resort. You can order any of the great menu breakfasts or just have a cup of coffee to lubricate the sharing of news and gossip over the next hour or so.

We meet old friends, catch up on what's going on (or should be going on!), and we warmly welcome newcomers. In fact if you need a ride give me a call. I'll introduce you to the guys I know, too.

Bruce Batchelder, Editor

Dave Barry's Colonscopy, Part 2

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this is, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.

When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' has to be the least appropriate.

'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.

I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, Feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

ABOUT THE WRITER -
Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald. Readers can enjoy more of his stories at www.davebarry.com

Editor's note; The above story concluded with a list of comments made by patients during the procedure who were groggy but not knocked completely out. I felt they were, and I'm trying to be delicate here, somewhat more explicit than the article which itself is a little farther out than the humor published here so far. Thus, if you'd like to read this hilarious list of comments just email me.

The Fawns Among Us

I got this shot on Hogan today. There actually were three of them with one mother and I've seen several other families wandering about like this. The little guys look like they are no more than a couple days old but I know very little about this and want to get that on the table up front. For instance, I thought deer gave birth in the spring so as to give the youngsters some months to get enough weight on that they can manage their first winter. So why is it happening now?

I saw another set of triplets on Lake Shore but one of the fawns was bleating piteously because it was being rebuffed by the mother (I presume as it was trying to nurse her). In fact, all the other adults in the group tried to run it off. Somewhere back I heard that the females have only two teats and if they bear three or more young one is nudged out and starves. Does anybody know anything about that? Are any of you readers hunters or outdoors people?

Anyway, the whole reason for this rambling is to re-state what the obvious: these youngsters are even dumber than their parents when it comes to moving out of the way of an oncoming car. Whereas you can more or less assume that an adult deer moving across the road left to right will continue that way (still, don't count on it and even if they do keep your eye to the left as there may easily be a group of them), these fawns just prance to and fro with no plan whatsoever. And since way too many of us are driving faster than we should anyway, this makes for a likely roadkill scenario. I don't know about you but if this happened to me I'd feel absolutely crappy. It's bad enough to hit a grownup deer but seeing a Bambi under my car would ruin my day big time.

So yeah, slow down and watch the roadside more closely right now. But also remember this is their turf; we came here AFTER they did and should show a little respect for their timing if nothing else.

Farmers' Markets

This is the time of year when you can really appreciate fresh fruits, vegetables, and local crafts at the many local farmers' markets. These shots were taken in Medford when we stumbled across their Thursday event on South Pacific Highway. Like many, we make a "Costco run" once a month and this market was going strong yesterday. There was plenty of parking (paved, as was the market itself) and the temps had dropped from Wednesday's 102 degrees so it was bearable.

Much of what is sold in farmers' markets is organic and the 'made' goods like bread, candy, and food (tamales, Japanese dishes, donuts, etc. etc. at this one) are all cooked at home. There was even a stall that sold locally-raised buffalo meat. So what you get does not come by ship from Chile or Australia coated with preservatives and such. In fact it was hard to put off our planned lunch in Ashland there was so much ready-to-eat stuff!

There are markets like this here in Siskiyou County too, of course. I know of one in Weed and another in Mt. Shasta. The respective Chambers of Commerce would surely know the days and locations of each. It's likely there are markets in Yreka and Scott Valley as well.

They even had kiddie rides on ponies (the mist was for the heat):

Martin Mars Aircraft Fights Local Fires

This monster tanker is one of only two in the world and until a few minutes ago was moored at Bridge Bay on Shasta Lake, fighting the numerous wildfires around Redding. It is the Hawaii Mars built by the Glenn Martin Company in the late 1930's for long-range Navy maritime patrol duty. Six were built originally but over the course of the war and later cargo duties two were lost to accidents. The remaining four, all named after South Pacific Island groups, were auctioned for scrap in 1956 from the Alameda Naval Air Station where they had been flying cargo since the war. Affectionately known as the Big Four, they had accumulated 87,000+ accident free hours of service and their impending doom was mourned by their loyal navy crews.

Dan McIvor, a fire tanker pilot in Canada got wind of the sale and picked up all four along with 30-some spare engines (enormous 2,500 hp Wright Cyclones), 47 tons of spare parts, and cabinets full of design plans. He ferried all the goods in the aircraft up to Sproat Lake on Vancouver Island and outfitted each with a unique retractable scoop that could be lowered behind the step on the seaplane's hull. This allowed the plane to scoop up water while skimming the surface of a lake, saving vast amounts of time and money. The craft can carry up to 60,000 lbs. of water and it takes a mere 30 to 40 seconds to load, mixing a fire retardant called Thermo-Gel as it comes into the onboard tanks.

As the years went by one craft was lost in an accident and another in a windstorm. The two remaining, Hawaii Mars and Philippine Mars, now travel all over the world with a complete ground support 18 wheeler (that carries spare parts and an extra engine) as well as a tanker truck for aviation fuel. The visit to Shasta Lake was only for a few days and I did not get to see the aircraft in action much to my regret. I was planning on going down Tuesday the 8th and just watching until it took off but when I called they said it was being dispatched today the 5th for some fires west of Palo Cedro.

A gallery of photos and more info can be found at www.martinmars.com.

Dave Barry on his Colonoscopy

(Editor's note: I almost always try to find a graphic to accompany posted stories but despite the huge, colorful variety of colons on Google, I felt an image might not be appropriate this time. Also, this article was provided by Lake Shastina resident Jack Brooks. Thanks, Jack!)

Dave Barry on his Colonoscopy:


I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis. Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!"

I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.

The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep. I was thinking, 'What if I @!X>^# on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.

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Dave's story continues next week.