Pages

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Air Dancing With The Colors of the Wind

Kite Festival 2014 019

Moro Bay threw a Kite Festival this weekend and the beach by the rock was filled with people, dogs, kids and kites.  Little whippy kites, big lumbering kites, and behemoth kites looming over the beach like huge airborne sea serpents looking for a landing spot.

There were rainbow dragon kites and yellow dragons aloft.

Kite Festival 2014 006Kite Festival 2014 002



And a huge striped beast so large it needed a separate stabilizer above it just to keep it aloft and steady.


Kite Festival 2014 009Kite Festival 2014 008



Meantime behemoth #2 lumbered into the air to hover over it all.




 
And finally, what a kite festival is all about:  A little girl and her kite, air dancing.





Kite Festival 2014 020











Saturday, April 26, 2014

Oh, Just Get Off My Property

You gotta admit, Nevada rancher Cliven Bundy had a good run at his 15 minutes of fame playing The Poor Aggrieved, Victimized Old White Guy Being Menaced by Tyrants!

Actually, the “tyrants” in question were BLM repo men attempting to round up and repossess his cows on federal land, collateral for 20 years worth of non-payments of his grazing fees.  Simple action, really, happens all the time with cars – don’t pay your car loan, car disappears, usually in the middle of the night.

With a herd of cows, of course, it’s different.  That’s where the comedy started and where Cliven became a star .  Before you could say “John Wayne,” a gaggle of armed wannabe  self-styled “militia” showed up to strut around a gaggle of tents they set up and called “Camp Trip Wire,” brandishing their weapons for the TV cameras, little Half-Minute Men ready to face down the BLM guys.  One Local Hero even went so far as to excitedly declare that if there was gonna be trouble, he was gonna make sure the women-folk would be placed up front so they’d get shot first so the whole country could see just how awful the “gummint” was.  I’m sure he thought his little plan would serve to shock the viewers, but I’ll bet the only thing the viewers thought was, “If that guy’s married, I sure hope he doesn’t go home tonight.”

Not wanting another Ruby Ridge triggered by a bunch of stupid Aggrieved Resentful Angry Armed White Guys, the federal agents backed away, leaving Cliven’s cows uncollected.
The right wing, of course, loved everything about this story.  Loved it!  It hit all their grievance-politics notes, plus cowboy hats!  And they rushed to declare that they were with old Cliven, that he was an American Hero, a Patriot, the perfect image of what a Conservative is all about, all that stalwart, rugged individualism!  Plus, what could be a better “conservative values” visual than shots of a stalwart iconic Western cowboy (Cliven) riding around on his horse waving a huge American flag?

Until, that is, Jon Stewart pointed out that Cliven Bundy is one of those old posse comitatus guys, a political line that runs straight from federal government deniers, states righters, Night Riding Jim Crowers , straight back to the Unreconstructed South.  So what, Jon wondered, Is Cliven doing flapping an American flag around?  That’s the flag of the . . . federal government.

Finally, as it always happens, the warm glow of all the media love loosened Cliven’s tongue and he spilled the out the really good beans, the central heart of the matter and started talking about . . . The Neeeee-gro.

Now, in this day and age of grievance politics, when you hear those words – “The Negro” – you just know that things are likely gonna go south real soon.  And sure enough, they did.  Ol’ Cliven started a-wonderin’ if The Neeegro wasn’t better off as slaves. And, picking up on the conservatives’ meme that equated slavery with food stamps, commenced a-wondering if The Neeegro wasn’t “slaves to charities and government subsidized homes?  And are they slaves when their daughters are having abortions and their sons are in the prisons.  This thought goes back a long time,” said Cliven Bundy, who had been sucking on the government teat himself for 20 years-worth of taxpayer subsidized welfare in the form of unpaid grazing fees.

Well, the whooshing intake of breath from all the conservative Pols and Pundits who had first rushed to old Cliven’s side darned near blew down half of Nevada.  And the trampling of conservative Pols and Pundits’ feet scampering to get some plausible-deniable distance between themselves and old Cliven broke the Bonneville Flats’ speed record and left a track out of Nevada deeper than the Grand Canyon.
And poor old Cliven was left alone with his little band of now foolish-looking armed-and-dangerous, shoot-women-first Green Mountain Boys, though this being Nevada in a drought year, they were more dusty brown than green.

And Cliven’s cows are back mooching off federal land, for now, while the rest of the country is wondering, “How do you spell “C-O-G-N-I-T-I-V-E  D-I-S-S-O-N-A-N-C-E? “

Monday, April 21, 2014

Oh, Just Get Off The Mountain



Calhoun's Cannons for April 21, 2014 

Yes, Nepal's a desperately poor country.  Yes, the Sherpa guides need the money.  That's the usual game, isn't it? Poor desperate "natives" basically paid to go into harm's way or paid to die so rich western adventurers can have their sport.  But, c'mon.  Thirteen? With three others still missing?  Really? When is enough, enough?

Look, when Hillary and Norgay did it, now that was a challenge!  But Everest's been done.  Dude, it's so done that during climbing season the place looks like an ice-filled e-ticket ride at Disneyland, with long lines of climbers waiting to summit. And the sacred mountain is now a garbage dump filled with empty oxygen bottles, discarded climbing junk, human excrement, and dead bodies.  It's ridiculous.  Time to move on.

But, instead, what we've got now is a  yearly stream of rich outsiders willing to cough up $100,000 bucks just so they can have bragging rights.  Or fulfill some kind of egotistical personal need to expend huge amounts of energy and money to get altitude sickness, have a stroke, lose some fingers and toes to frostbite, freeze to death or die in an ice fall.  That's great, I get it, high personal drama, "man against nature," that sort of thing.  Fine.

And I get that many top Sherpa guides are extraordinary mountaineers in their own right and are earning a great living being guides.  As an L.A. Times story by Binaj Gurubachayra and Tim Sullivan (AP) notes, " "A day after the disaster, many Sherpa guides spoke of their work in ways that reflect the complexities of poor people working in a deeply hazardous place.  . . .  'The mountains are a death trap,' said Norbu Tshering, a 50-year-old Sherpa and mountain guide who lives mostly in Katmandu. . . . 'But we have no other work and most of our people take up this profession, which has now become a tradition for all of us.' he said."   

A tradition "born out of  sheer desperation," he forgot to add.

And I get that the "Everest Economy" brings in tens of millions of dollars a year to Nepal, money the government will do nothing to endanger.  But Sherpas do not have a tradition of "sport climbing" Everest just for fun.  They live in the mountains, they know the mountains and they do not willingly go into the mountains just for the heck of it. No sane Sherpa would.  Here's the Times again, "For the Sherpas, the once-obscure mountain people whose name has become synonymous with Everest and whose entire culture has been changed by decades of working as guides and porters for wealthy foreigners, it was a brutal reminder of the risks they face."

The risks they face so they can try "to make a better life for themselves and their families in a desperately poor country," he forgot to add.

What the Sherpas and all the people of Nepal really need is help building an economy that makes guiding a real choice, like, "Do I take this micro-loan and start and grow a small business to support my family, or do I risk death on the mountain while hauling tons of crap up Everest so some rich guy can sit around sipping a glass of wine regaling his friends about how tough his climb was?  Hmmmm, let me think."

Now that would be a "choice," just as it is for the wealthy westerners who show up with pockets full of cash, looking for a thrill.

So here's a modest proposal:  From now on, western mountaineers could hire Sherpas to schlep up their tons of stuff  but only to the safer, lowest base camp.  Past that point, all those wealthy, challenge-driven climbers would be responsible for laying their own guide-ropes, putting in their own ice-ladders, and blazing their own trails across the deadly "popcorn" fields and ice-falls, all the way up to the summit.  And if they die by the dozens while doing it, well, isn't that what the idea of  "Everest" is all about --personal best against a formidable, unpredictable, deadly foe?

And if they're unable to do that on their own, then maybe it's time they just got off the mountain altogether.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Happy Easter



Blessed by the Lord be the land,
with the precious gifts of heaven,
with the dew, and the deep that lies beneath,
with the precious fruits brought forth by the sun
and the riches brought forth by the moon,

with the greatness of the ancient mountains,
with the abundance of the everlasting hills,
and with all the treasures of the earth
in its perfection.
                                   --Deuteronomy  33:13-16

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Calling all Citrus Trees

A nice lady named Cindy, from the County Dept. of Agriculture, stopped by the house a few days ago.  For several years, the Ag folks have hung bug traps in the eucalyptus trees on the corner, looking for crop-damaging pests. Which is why Cindy was back again, this time looking for citrus trees to decorate.

Seems the citrus psyllid may be in the area, a nasty little bug that carries citrus greening disease that has the potential to wipe out the citrus industry in the state.  What she was looking for was citrus trees with easy access so she could hang some traps and change them out regularly.  And she needs to hang the trap on the tree, on the south side of the tree, actually, because apparently these bugs don't travel far so, even though I offered to have her hang the trap on the fence sort of near my lemon tree, that was a no go, gotta be on the tree itself.  And coming and going into the  yard was also a no go on account of the dogs.  So I was unable to help since she needs a tree in a yard without dogs, and a simple way to get to it without necessarily bothering the owners too much.

So, if that's something you can help with -- citrus tree, easy access --  give her a call at the Ag Dept, 781-5910.

Musique! Musique!

Cafe Musique is giving a concert on Saturday afternoon, April 26, at the Methodist Church on LOVR to kick off the release of their new CD.  They've added some more musicians, including . . . a tuba, which makes this a concert you can't possibly miss. So hurry over to www.cafemusique.org and hope there's still some tickets.  (They're also performing in other venues that weekend.)

Go Fly a Kite 

And on the same weekend (26-27), kite flyers will be gathering in Morro Bay, near the rock, for the Morro Bay Kite Festival, kicking off at 11 a.m. both days Professional kite folks will be on hand to bedazzle, but everyone's welcome to come fly their kites.  Sky confetti for all!

Go See a Play

While down in Santa Maria, PCPA is presenting a classic, screwball comedy, "Noises Off."  I've read about this particular play for years, so here's a chance to go see it.  Check it out at https://www.pcpa.org