A May Day Medley

It’s International Workers Day, AKA May Day.  Most of the world takes this day off.  In America, most people work just like any other day.  In a sad irony, the Grand Old Party celebrated International Workers Day by blocking a bill to raise the minimum wage from an “extravagant” $7.50 an hour. 

Should this be surprising?  Should it be shocking that a bunch of rich legislators would listen to the ridiculous arguments posed by the US Chamber of Commerce with its unabashed worship of money, money, money?  The Chamber resurrects the same tired old arguments; lost jobs, higher costs, preventing businesses from opening, high government cost of enforcement and blah, blah, blah.  It was the same drivel that was raised before San Jose, California raised its minimum wage.  A year later and unemployment has gone down, business grew by 3%, there were only a few dozen noncompliance complaints and workers average the same number of hours.  And so to those single parents who are struggling to survive at $3400.00 below the poverty line, happy May Day and welcome to the corporatocracy.   

Bumper sticker sighting; Spay, neuter and debark all politicians.  I could get on board with that.

She might fit right in

V. Stiviano, the mistress/girlfriend/acquaintance/BFF/ basketball buddy or whatever it is she’s supposed to be of Donald Sterling claimed in a video interview that she will one day be President of the United States.  V. in politics.  Hmm, given the state of politics in America would anybody notice a difference?  After all we have Michelle Bachmann, and we've had Sarah Palin. 

Strange Bedfellows Part One  

An 80 year old rich cracker and a 31year old chickie.  V. Stiviano claims she wasn't Donald Sterling’s mistress.  As my dad used to say, “I’m dubious.”  Some articles have called her, Sterling’s lover.  Ugh.  As the song goes, “What’s love got to do with it?” I think I’d characterize it as a sort of symbiotic relationship; he provides expensive cars, bling and a chance to be seen with celebrities and she stimulates his ego and his 80 year old bean.  Seriously though there’s got to be something beyond that.  Doesn't there?  Apparently not.  In both looks and character he resembles the Grinch and she is clearly a few bricks shy of a load. 

Strange Bedfellows Part Two

An 80 year old rich cracker and the NAACP.  Before Sterling’s racist rant with V. Stiviano, the NAACP was ready to give Sterling a lifetime achievement award.  Huh?  Sterling has been sued in the past for both housing and employment discrimination and those acquainted with him know Sterling’s history of racism and general douchebaggery.   So why would the NAACP give him an award?  Because he’s donated a lot of money.  Ground control to the NAACP, that’s what rich guys do.  They write checks to causes they don’t give a shit about or genuinely hate because it makes them look good, gives them a tax write off and throws off the hounds.  Is this what it’s come to?  Money talks and principles walk.  Welcome to the corporatocracy. 

Appreciate what you have in life…

My 27 year old daughter and I have our moments.  We've gotten into some nasty arguments about anything from parenting to her posts on Facebook to tattoos and I’m the first to admit that many of the hoo – haws have been on me.  My daughter; a holder of two college degrees, pursuing a career, devoted wife and mother of two small children; responsible and intelligent.  And I’m as proud as hell of her.

….because you could be the parent of V. Stiviano. 

News of the demise of racism in America...

have been greatly exaggerated.  As a prequel to Donald Sterling, America was treated to Cliven Bundy; an absurd episode that the right wing tried to turn into a folk ballad about the rugged individualist fighting back against the big, bad government. He was touted as a modern day Paul Revere until we found out that there was more of freeloading, tax evading klansman about him than patriot. And if you think that Sterling is the only racist sports team owner just look to Daniel Snyder, owner of the Washington Redskins.  

And in local news…

We have a real, local coffeehouse!  Pinole the next little town over just became the home of a new joint called East Bay Coffee.  It’s a traditional looking coffeehouse with local art on the walls and a simple concrete floor.  It serves third wave coffee and basic coffee drinks, skipping the sickeningly sweet crap that characterizes Starbucks.  There isn't a hint of caramel, crumbled cookies or whipped cream.  But what’s better is that East Bay Coffee touts itself as a music and arts destination.  This is what a coffeehouse should be; especially in the San Francisco Bay Area with the tradition of North Beach. Not a trace of corporate mediocrity.  Our local Starbucks remodeled and with it went most of the electrical outlets as if to bid good riddance to folks who want to stay awhile.  East Bay Coffee doesn't have outlets; it has power strips; and they invite you to stay. 

And on the home front...

I've created a fucking Frankenstein.  At a loss for anything to watch on that great vast wasteland known as television I turned to HBO GO and resurrected Deadwood, a series based loosely, VERY loosely, on the frontier town of Deadwood South Dakota in its days as a rough and tumble mining town.  Yeah I know the series is 10 years old…and I still don’t have a smart phone, so what’s your point?  The wife and I are partial to westerns or as my dad used to call them, horse operas.  Deadwood features some of the town’s authentic historic citizens such as Wild Bill Hickok, Seth Bullock and Calamity Jane.  The show features language that would melt a drunken sailor’s ears usually vented by saloonkeeper Al Swearengen (also a real citizen).  He has a full and varied repertoire but his favorites are c**k sucker and any conceivable variation of the “f” bomb.  You have to gut out the shock of the language in the first episode and then you manage to settle into it.  When the series was in its initial run there was a fair amount of debate among historians,

Ian McShane as Al Swearengen

linguists and the producers as to whether the language in the show has any factual basis.  I've my doubts, because we’re after all still talking about Victorian America, but it’s an excellent vehicle for setting the scene of a primitive, male dominated, violent, muddy, murderous mining camp.  One “gosh dern” out of Wild Bill and the show would lose its credibility and appeal.  Al Swearengen, played by Ian McShane, could be the most foulmouthed, viscous, reprehensible blackguards ever created for television but he’s becoming one of my all-time favorite TV characters.  And as for the good little Catholic wife; well she’s become a Deadwood addict and on occasion we abandon English for Deadwoodian. 

 “Can we watch Deadwood?”  She asks. 

“Fuck no.”

“Why not?” She pouts.

“Because I like it and I don’t want to blow through all three seasons in a fucking month.  I want to savor it. So no, we can’t fucking watch it.”

“C**k sucker!” 

 Ain't love grand? 

 And finally; from now I plan to be known as A. Boomer.