3 Little Pigs by Shakespeare

Had a blog set to go reviewing some of the critical issues of 2011. Then I thought my dear loyal readers need a break. We need a regular dose of laughter as part of our attempts to be human. Many local folks in the small town we live in ask, “what’s your long life secret?” My response “laughter and engagement.” Paying attention to the world around me and above all seeing the absurdities. Then having a good laugh to assure my humanness. Not easy in this crazy globalization catastrophe that we are living through. Okay, so here’s my New Years Eve. laugh. My best RS

Please click here to watch "Three Little Pigs" by Shakespeare.

Wishin You'all a Very Happy!

Hanukka, Chanuka, Xmas, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Nomaste, Salaam Aleukiem, Kaputka! (Just covering all bases.)

Fear not I have not run out of thoughts or ideas for yet another blog. No, figured maybe my readers need a break too. Will certainly be writing about----

SAAB is bankrupt. What did we learn at the Assembly Plant in Sweden?

What does the continuing crackdown in Egypt tell us about the “Spring?”

Should we send Obama a copy of the Constitution? He thinks he can hold people without a trial. (What on earth happens to people once they get to the White House?

Is the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo about the macho problem? (Get ready for a Malenist movement. Converse of Feminist.)

Are we at the end of the Planet as we know it?

What are the Occupiers doing fighting with a Church?

What is the Bradley Manning case telling us?

What ever happened to the wonders of the Global Marketplace?

Oh yes the absurdities of the GOP nominating circus.

Or, “A guy walks into a bar--------------------?”

Look in the meantime pick from the top bunch and “enjoy yourself” and as we use to sing back in the Great Depression, “Enjoy yourself. It’s later than you think.” My very very best for a MERRY HAPPY, WHATEVER. RS

"You Don't Know Nothin"

Or the Converse Your a----------------?

It’ a fresh bright early spring morning in Factoryville Pennsylvania. The birds are singing in the sycamore trees. I’m in a big old barn trying my damnedest to get a Horse-collar on an ornery Belgian workhorse. Every-time I go to put it over his head this beast jerks his head up down. On the floor goes the collar. From the other end of this crowded stall comes a small voice of a 12 year old. “You don’t know nothin.” Oh, so your wonderin, What on earth am I doing in Factoryville Pennsylvania in an old barn trying to harness up a giant Belgian work-horse? Indulge me as l back up a little.

It was 1936 on a farm in Factoryville Pennsylvania. Near the worlds longest concrete poured railroad bridge. I was, a young radical in love with coal miners. They were and remain the most important workers on the planet. Without them there is no electricity, no minerals no electronics, nothing.

At the coal mine office the Super. laughed. “You came all the way from New York City for a job here as a Mule Boy? You gotta be crazy. We got more kids whose fathers work in these mines than we could employ for the next hundred years. Want my advice? Get yourself back home as quick as possible cause there’s nothing here for you.” My savior was the name of a fellow radical whose family owned a nearby farm. That’s where I ended up.

The farm family. Mother father a baby and nine brothers all coal miners except the youngest 12 year old Charlie. Because it was summer there was work on the farm. “Do you know how to plow, cut and rake hay, pick beans, like that”. “Oh yes of course” was a much to fast reply. “We can only pay 25 cents an hour plus room and board. You’ll sleep in with the boys. Start tomorrow. You’ll plow that upper pasture use Big Bill he an easier horse to handle.” I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

(Little background.) As an 8 year old I was sent to a camp that was connected to an adjoining farm. At that farm I had been exposed to some of what the folks in Pennsylvania were talking about. Next morning bright an early all 10 or 12 for breakfast and one 2 year old creeping around the well worn kitchen board floor.

Breakfast was pork chops, mashed potatoes bread and coffee. Lots of coffee including for the baby on the floor. After breakfast it’s out to the barn. That morning broke beautiful, sweet spring air, I cannot believe the size of the two Belgians horses. The stall says, Big Bill. That’s my horse.

I’m thinking. Now try to remember what the dam harness looks like. As I said the first thing is to get the Horse Collar over the horses head. I was at the verge of despair when that voice from nowhere said “you don’t no nothin.” I am now face to face with Charlie the 12 year old. Youngest of the nine brothers. A kid about half my size. I quickly agree that I sure don’t know how to hook this horse to the plow. Oh, yes I’m telling him it’s the biggest horse I’ve ever seen and all that sort of bullshit as the little guy just stands there shaking his head repeating,”you don’t know nothin.”

“Okay so you show me.” “yeah but it’s gonna cost you.” Okay how much? A quarter. You got it. "Okay look out." Putting the Collar down he stands on a box putting the Bridle over the horses head. “Once you get this Bridle on his head you can keep him from jerking it. You know what, he’d rather stay in the barn than work that field. He ain’t about to help you with this stuff. Get it?” He gets the horse all rigged up ready for the field.

Wedded by our business transaction we are on our way to the meadow. Charlie, is pointing me in the direction of where to plow. I put the bridal strap over my shoulder and I’m off down the field hangin on to the plow for dear life. Charlie said, "The trick is to keep the steel plow blade pointed into the ground.I make it to the end of the field and am trying to hang on to the plow while turning Big Bill around. There’s that piping annoying but God saving sound, “You don’t know nothin.” Look out he says as he throws the reins around his shoulder bears down on one side of it and there’s Big Bill turning himself around. “That’s another quarter city slicker.” Charlie added that latter part to increase the humiliation of the big city slicker. I ignore it as I know in my gut he’s going to be my mentor for any future stumbles.

As I went from job to job."You don’t know nothin” became a mantra in my life. Each new job was either to advance my skills or simply hold the job so I could organize the place. That might have been my rationalization for hanging on to “you don’t know nothin.” In fact I had learned a very forgiving way to be accepted into the work family. The converse of course was, “Oh! so your a smart ass know it all.”? Yes there was that tendency from Street Corner speaking where in a way you had to sort of know it all in order to get people listening. For young passionate Marxists this was a big problem.

Every shop is like a family and an easy way to be excepted is through I,”don;t know nothin.” What goes with that is an invitation to “Please help me for like you I am just trying to make a living.” Wow, did it ever work. I had learned a critical lesson for organizing. If you want to be part of the group no making believe that your smarter than the rest of us cause that’s just gonna piss folks off and they will make your life miserable for the “know it all.”

Many thanks to the 12 year old in Factoryville Penn. for a piece of lifelong learning. Yeah I still, “don’t know nothin.” As regular readers of this blog I hope understand I do know a few things that are simply based on what I have lived through. A favorite lesson learned in college at age 47 was in order to gain new knowledge it was critical to acknowledge what you don’t know and that was and is plenty. Maybe if I get to 100 I’ll change my mind again. In the meantime I try to embrace “You don’t know nothin.”

PS. As I write this I have a growing concern that the Occupy Folks are drifting. They seem to be warming for a fight with Trinity Church over the use of church property for occupation. Wrong wrong target. Get back on targeting the one percent.

Nonagenarin !

(Should be writin about Euro bust up, Or birth control idiocy.)

Gotta get this “Non a genarian crap offa me chest.”

To be called a Nonagenarian. That’s an insult.
(Nazis talked of arian held-en folk.)
Is that why I hate it? But,
Nothing seems to be what it once was.

Woke up early full of vigorosity. I announces.
“Honey, goin out for breakfast. Tired of wheatanbran.”
Yupp, it’s French Toast and coffee.
Man this tastes awful. Don't make em like they use to.

Like my old Packard. Talk about an automobile?
Six of us for a Province-town weekend. At Packard Monday 8 AM.
“Grease monkey.” That’s me. Heah, 1933 pretty dam good.
“They don’t make em like that anymore”

Radios, all push buttons. Give me back my dials.
In the wee wee hours of the morning.
The reassuring clip clop of the milk mans horse.
Milk came in open cans or bottles.
No plastic cardboard recycle crap!

Is my memory better than a micro wave or frankfurters.
Coney Island Nathans Hot Dogs. All the way from the Bronx.
Right Fred? A stick shift. Now your a macho driver.
“Slush box” we called automatics.

In the street overhauled the engine. Nary a micro processor in sight.
Our car has 75 and I can;t do diddle swat. Micro’s made us blue collars dumb.
Whatever happened to Trolley Cars? Loved them in the summertime
Hang on the running boards for free. Buses just more pollution.

Don’t get me started on the Tele. Harold on the roof.
“How is it now Ruth? Turn it clockwise. How is it now Ruth?
What’s on the Tele? And conversation died. What’s on the Tele?

Never saw a school bus. Just ran the half mile.
Saw the death of the icebox for the Refrigerator.
The old box. Chop off a piece of sucking ice.

How about safety razor? Automatic, ice-maker, windshield wiper?
Yeah, I know the Cell Phone changed the world.
People walkin around talkin to themselves. like they were nuts.
That's what I call change.

Why do things seem better back before the IPod?
Yes, this here computer? Like now is driving me nuts.

Where is my old Remington Portable. Pounded out stencils for leaflets.
“All out for Zuccotti Park! Demand a living wage!”
No,no, I mean Union Square for a Socialist Society.
Cause, I wasn’t a Nonagenarian.
Some think that’s a terrorist. Or just another alien.
Not a Nonagenarian back then.

Deja Vu All Over Again Yogi Berra

Has Obama Been Moved?

Oh to be a nonagenarian and keep remembering stuff that looks brand new to the youngens is history repeating itself. Yes, of course there are always new angles so you might call it “repeats with conditional changes.” I am once again talking about the Occupy Wall Street,OWS endeavor. They have been evicted from their campsites. What next?

(Not a secret. The police departments have been militarized. Back in the riot prone sixties as the Ghettos erupted I watched as the NYPD was given military vehicles to control crowds. That’s another blog.)

From listening to the many interviews I gather OWS is wrestling with, “what do we do now?” That’s where my DeJa Vu cuts in. Back in the 1930s we argued every night sometimes all night. The issue was how do we push for fundamental change in society as we deal with the day to day issues of unemployment, home relief, (welfare.) and evictions. Hanging over the whole business was the dark cloud of rising fascism. Hitler and Mussolini legions were already destroying everything we held sacred.

The major split back then? Do we deal with the immediate issues from which the working class would learn through struggle that they have the ability to take power and create a socialist society. Those who held an opposite view said we were just a bunch of reformers who were out to save capitalism by wringing concessions out of the ruling class. Though I argued against it at the time looking back I believe the latter were right.

I see a similarity between that argument and the present left dilemma. It gets expressed in “what are we going to do about Obama?” I believe our best hope is to push him into standing up for the issues he was elected on. In a recent blog “Left Looking for a Dance Partner” I suggested, if the OWS folks were going to have an impact they will need to create a new party or dance with an existing one. If and when we are ready to launch a third party that would be great. In the meantime if OWS want to be relevant they will have to deal with what is. Not what they would wish it to be.

When the OWS was evicted from Zuccotti Park a small band started to march to Washington. Their plan was to challenge the Super Budget Committee on the proposed cuts to Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security etc. Unfortunately that never happened. By the time they got to Washington the Super Committee had already abandoned their effort. The GOP members would not agree to a little tax increases for the millionaires. Not surprising.

My point is. If we are going to be involved in day to day issues confronting the country we need to find those in power who are closest to our position. In this case it is clearly the Democrats. I know I know I hear friends saying, “Schrank that turncoat in the White House has sold us out and I will not go down that road of supporting him again.” I am not arguing for support of Obama. I am suggesting that when push comes to shove on the issues we will have to find POLITICAL ALLIES. I just don’t see to many on the GOP side of the Congress. Besides our only hope is that the efforts of the OWS people will push Obama into fighting for all those things he ran on back in 08. The issue of the the one percent versus the 99 percent has clearly been put on the agenda. Outstanding achievement for OWS. I also believe that Obama did hear it.

What was implicit in the Zuccotti Park, OWS decision to go to Washington after the police shutdown? It was a clear answer to the question, WHAT DO YOU WANT? They were going to rally support for those traditional New Deal Social programs. Look, if they started out saying the one percent are screwing the 99 percent where do you think they’ll come down on Medicare, Social social Security etc.? How about taxing the one percent?

Clearly this is not a revolution. It is a continuation of what I call, “the imperfect adjustments.” We have been doing it all my long life and we are still doing it. So, don’t fret to much as capitalism yet again muddles out of another one of its regular crisis. I do see signs that Obama is moving in the direction of being a fighter instead of a pleader for, “Can’t we all get along.” The no, no boys in the House and Senate McConnell, Boehner alliance has dashed that hope. It’s okay, you can call me a dreamer. I accept. Maybe that’s what keeps me trying.

Damm You Kindle !

Wanted a book on laughter. "Only have it on Kindle."”

Are they---- them, kidding me?

The touch ,smell, feel of books.------A love affair----so be it.

In front of a wall of books I sit.

I’m in Tuchman’s “March of Folly”----Believe me,--boom--boom, I'm marching

“Copper Camp” Butte, good old days. Twenty Thousand Miners.

Ten thousand whores. Two to one? Unfair.

In the dark of night------do the books argue?

Creating The Goodlife”-----Try “The Bible.”

“Big Trouble”----“In The Age of the Smart Machine.
”
Das Capital ------All Governments Lie.

Greeks at Delphi Romans at the gate.

Here's 30 Volumes of Brittanica. feel---smell and heavy!

Yes, I know, I know, The whole things on------

A teeny weeny shiny disk nary a feel or smell.

Hate it-----use it. Future trap ?

Robert Frost “Two roads divide.” Take the traveled one

Remember the Donna Party!

Emily Dickenson Beware the snake in the grass.

Shakspeare, The creation of human.

Own-self be true. Conscience makes cowards of us all.”

Douglas “Life & Times In Slavery.’ People of the gospel song.

Tuchman “March of Folly” Is that all there is?

No, Over here, a whole other shelf.

“Left Turn’-----Wasn’t That a Time?

Growing up Radical & Red in America.”

Black Obelisk, Understand the human condition?

Off with you to the mad house.

Lucretius, 100 years before Christ.

“The Nature of Things”----"Nothing comes of nothing.”

Heah, Lear said that.” March of folly?

Encyclopedia of Furniture Making”

I make it, feel it see it, touch, smell,

Remember it was a tree..

Like Hardy’s farmer oak?

Power of Positive Blah Blah Blah

Take A deep breath, We’re in the cast.

Next Episode, March of Folly

Damn you Kindle.

On The Crisis in Egypt !

Post Script Nov, 23,2011 Originally published Feb.6 2011 I just felt that a rereading of this February blog on Egypt may be useful in understanding the new rage in Tahrir Square.

I mean with all the punditry blah blah blahing on the 24 hour cable circuit I was really trying to stay out of it. Alas, I can not. The problem with the Punditry is they all are saying the same thing. Will Mubarak go, will he stay until September? Who will take over? What’s Obama doing, what did Hillary say? Yeah and what about the Israelis? I’m wading in because nobody seems to be aware of the CLASS STRUGGLE that is taking place in Egypt.

The whole idea of the class struggle got out of favor after Fukuyama wrote “The End of History.” The collapse of the Soviet Union would usher in the era of capitalism as being the only surviving system ipso facto the end of history. That would also include the end of the class struggle. (Pssst, also the end of Marxism.) It wasn’t long after that anyone who used the word “class” in politics was accuse of starting a “class war.” God forbid. Maybe it is this phenomena that now keeps otherwise intelligent people from refusing to look at the class content of the struggle in Egypt.

It has been acknowledged that a million and a half of young people 15 to 25 are unemployed with no chance of finding a job. There’s another million employed workers who are paid substandard wages. Jobs for women are almost non existence. Yes that’s why the street demonstrations have been led by youth. Like the “old man” said, “they have nothing to lose.” Then I started looking for, who are the major employers in Egypt? Wow, guess what I found?

“The army in Egypt is a great power, not only military, but also economic. The army is the main employer in the country , capitalist 1. The military receive contracts for the construction of bridges and roads, and for the production of gasoline and olive oil, and they own tourist hotels and hospitals. The military elite is an integral and important part of the corrupt bureaucratic system. (Sort of like our very own Haliburton but more so.) “And at the same time, in the eyes of the Egyptian people the army is is the symbol of “independence.” Remember Eisenhower’s warning about the “Military Industrial Complex? Guess what? That’s who is actually ruling in Egypt.

Wow! talk about a nifty setup for the military. No wonder they don’t want any class warfare. They are the ruling class who control the whole works. Yes, the production facilities, the infra structure, the roads, the sewers the water works. Eureka I found it. Just like the Anaconda Copper Company back in Montana 1953. How did it happen?

After the 1979 Peace Treaty between Israel and Egypt was signed it left the Egyptian Army with little or nothing to do. So, they went into business and they have been there ever since. They are the elite bunch who have sponsored and kept Mubarak in power for 30 years. They will now have Suleiman as the transition boss who will certainly make sure that the business interests of his army buddies is in no way disturbed. Now our leaders seem to have gotten the message. “Oh yes we have to give the Egyptian Government time to “transition.” This so called transition is pure Kabuki. “You are now with Mubarak and will transition to Suleiman.” Guess what? It’s the same old Army Industrial Complex that will continue to rule.

There you have a class analysis of what’s going on in Egypt. Will the removal of Mubarak make much difference? I don’t think so unless the demonstrators can get their stuff together and start negotiating some real concessions from the RULING CLASS.

That’s the problem when an unorganized band of angry people take to the streets without a well disciplined organization. What is essential in that situation? A clear set of demands need to be articulated. Leaders are needed, who represent the will of the demonstrators and can negotiate with the Ruling Class. Otherwise it will just be another brave effort that ends up leaving everything as it was before the uprising. What comes to mind is Vaclav Havel in Czechoslovakia 1969. Or the Shipyard workers in Gdansk Poland. They had real power and leaders to do the negotiating. That’s the lesson of history.

O.W.S. Marches To Washington !

Social Unrest Is Working !

First things first. The militarized police actions in breaking up the encampments may have had the unintended consequence of moving the 0.W.S. to it’s next stage. It is additional evidence, if needed, of how social unrest scares the pants off the ruling class. On the other hand it may have moved O.W.S. from the winter encampment problems to what do we do now? Under any circumstance the encampment tactic may have been wearing thin. They have focused attention and so on to the next.

Just checked my files. I started to write about “social unrest” over a year ago. Back then I was wondering how long it would take for people to get angry enough to to get them into the streets. I am happy to salute the Occupy Wall Street folks for getting them “Into the Streets.” Yes, in many places, London, Athens, Madrid, Rome the Euro demand for austerity have seen ongoing street riots for many months. What the US occupiers did was to help legitimatize that form of protest. They have also focused attention by their one percent versus the 99 percent. In previous blogs I was trying to understand how this, “leaderless” group was going to arrive at some kind of “To Do” list. Ahaa, so here it comes.

A group of O.W.S. people have already started to March to Washington to take on the "Super Budget Committee to reduce the deficit" If this committee fails to come up with 1.5 trillion in savings there will be an across the board cut in the Federal Budget. The evidence leaking out the Committee indicates the 6 democrats willing to make concessions. The GOP 6 say absolutely no tax increases on, you guessed it the richest one per-centers who control 40 percent of the countries wealth.

The unforeseen, or unintended consequence of this stupid Bi Partisan Committee idea has got the Pentagon arms dealers in a dithee over a major cut in defense spending, God forbid. That may force the Senate and House to find a way out of this very dumb idea. The arrival of the Occupiers in Washington, I hope would stiffen the spines of the Democrats including the President to start to understand the message of the 99 per-centers.

In another blog I wrote of the need for the protesters to find a "dancing partner" if they were going to bring about change. Though they have not set it forth in so many words they are demanding a redistribution of the countries wealth. That is where the one percent versus 99 percent leads you, or how wealth is distributed in the US. That's just fine with me.

O.W.S is marching to Washington to lobby the Congress in support of their constituents, the 99 percent. This is continuing in the tradition of the struggle for better life for the, working class now called the middle class. I am not sure when the decision was made that the best we could do is beat out concessions from the ruling class with the threat of social unrest. Our legacy in the history of that struggle is written in the Woman's Vote, Right to Bargain Collectively, New Deal, Social Security Minimum Wage Law, Medicare, Wages and hour Law, worker safety, etc. etc. How did we arrive at “lets just keeping on improving the system” instead of overthrowing it? In my years in the Labor Movement it became immanently clear that my union Brothers and Sisters had no interest in system change, They simply wanted the right to a decent life under the existing order of things, called Capitalism. I think that still holds true. They want a decent “middle class” life under the existing system.

That's what we managed to do and that's what the O.W.S. folks are carrying on. Yes they have found a different way to define the issues as well as how to fight the battle. I love that. Yet in the end there is an acceptance that there is not going to be a fundamental change from Capitalism. We tried hard to get the issue of socialism out there as an alternative. It just didn’t work. (Will get into that some other time.)

The issue now is, how the fight gets played out through the existing system, That ends up with the O.W.S. Marching to Washington. I did that many many times in the 30s, 40s 60s and I wish I could do it with this group that is going to raise hell in support of many of our hardest won gains. Maybe a could train to Washington and join up in front of the Capital with a sign.

“I’M A 94 YEAR OLD GEEZER. WE’RE NOT GONNA LET THE ONE PERCENT MILLIONAIRES TAKE AWAY OUR HARD WON GAINS OF THE LAST 100 YEARS”

Those gains are what I called in a previous blog our “imperfect adjustments.” They changed the country for the better.

J. Edgar

Brokeback Mountain at the FBI

I’m back in computer rage. Yupp I wrote it last night and lost it in transfer to blog. Even Mac couldn’t help. They just said sorry. Okay, let’s stop bellyaching and get on with it

I am not neutral when it comes to J. Edgar Hoover. We go back a long way. He created an enormous diary of my life from 1932 to 1965. Over 750 pages of the Schrank file. I estimate it must have cost the taxpayers at least $50,000 dollars.

Okay, when did J. Edgar really got pissed at me? It was at a Machinist Union Convention in the late forties. Grand rapids Michigan. I was on a floor mic arguing a resolution on trade policy. “We should not be trading with countries where workers are denied the rights to bargain collectively.” As I’m speaking a guy from the Press Table hands me a note. Reading and talking it says,” “There are a couple of FBI agents in the balcony taking notes.” “ Brother Chairman point of order. Ask those two guys in the balcony if they are members of this union.” Luckily for me they jump up and start to run. “Stop them, don’t let getaway. catch them!” Mr Chairman they are FBI agents and I want to know how they got into this hall?“ (Only members of the union were permitted.)

Pandemonium in the hall. “Get em, go after them. Who let em in?” The union leadership are ringing their hands like a lot of crooks caught red handed. After the session concludes Abe Raskin the Labor Reporter for the NY Times asks me what is my objection to the FBI sitting in the convention? “Look if we let J. Edgar Hoover stick his pig snout into our union business we will all become victims of his blackmail files.”

Early next morning the phone rings me outa bed. It’s our Local union lawyer. “Schrank have you gone crazy? J. Edgar will never ever forgive you for what’s on the front page of today's Times. Hoover is a man who is obsessive about his looks. How could you call him a pig?” “Well doesn’t he look like one?” Well, that was the start. For the foreseeable future J. Edgar never let up on me. That’s how I got that big fat file with his name, or Toulson on every other page.

The file shows Hoover is beside himself wanting to know how come our FBI Agents can't get union cards to get them into the convention. He's after all the Midwest FBI offices demanding an explanation. (Never knew why this was in my file?) Turns out they were X FBI agents working for the Chicago Chamber of Commerce who had declared me the most dangerous radical in the AFofL Unions. Their publication was known as "Red Channels. Their business was outing radicals primarily in the theater and movies.

Back to the movie. So here is J. Edgar struggling with his gay demons. He has hired Clyde Toulson as his depatty who Eastwwod thinks is his lover. They have a lovers spat. End up breaking glasses and wrestling down on the floor where they embrace in a bloody lovers kiss. You know what Clint? I don’t give a shit about all this, “Oh maybe he was Gay.” I care much more about the terrible harm this man has done with his gigantic blackmail files. He used them against all who as judge and jury he decides is a threat to the country and more important to him. How do you think he lasted for 47 years? He even had F.D.R. in check as he threatened to blow his cover of the affair with his secretary. Yes his victim list started up there with the like of Martin Luther King all the way down to me. How so me?

In the late forties he was trying to get me indicted under the Taft Hartley law for signing the non communist affidavits. My luck. He was stopped by the Truman White House. They said that he could not require people in the Labor Movement to testify against me. They actually told him to knock off the investigation. Look, it was some time during a court hearing on my expulsion from the Machinist for writing the pamphlet on the Taft Hartley Law that I learned about my immunity from J. Edgar.

It was at a urinal. The guy next to me a lawyer for the International Union said, “listen Schrank they are not going to indict you.” “Really, pray tell how do you know?” Well, you see they don’t want all you know about what went on during the 1944 Presidential Election Campaign. After all you were on the Democratic National Labor Committee working for Dan Tobin President of the Teamsters. Whatever it is that you know they don’t want to hear about in some Federal Court.” “Really, so that's what this is all about.” So, I thought have I got people I could also blackmail if J. Edgar succeeded in blackmailing me?” I must confess, I don;t know what the urinal talker was talking about.

I continue to wonder what on earth got Clint Eastwood all worked up about J.Edgar's sexual orientation? The real issue her is his paranoid. masterful. evil Henry the 111 kind of control of other peoples lives through blackmail? Now there’s a story that needs to be told in defense of individual rights. Clint Eastwood where are you?

Occupiers Remembered

Oh, I know once again I’m about to become a pain in your butt. Yes, this is about the Occupy Wall Street, O.W.S. now referred to as a “movement.” This is part of my own struggle to understand what is going on here. Yes ,I get the rage and anger. I don’t get what OWS is going to do with it. In my organizing days we would fan the flames of the discontent and channel the anger into organizing workers into unions. They did change the face of America.

Remembering some occupy experiences beginning with 1932. I was 15. From all corners of the US comes the Bonus Army marching to Washington. 43,000 of them strong. Their demand, the promised WW 1 War Bonuses they never received. They encamp on the Anacostia flats close to the capital. They put up a tent city and were determined to stay until the Congress Agreed to pay the promised bonus. Their tent city is orderly and peaceful. Alas it was not to be. Yes there were efforts in Congress to honor the promise but President Hoover did not think it was fiscally responsible to do so.

Army Chief of Staff, Yupp Douglas MacArthur with the help of Patton led a charge of infantry, Cavalry and tanks against the encampment that they then proceeded to burn to the ground. Defeated the bonus army retreated home. (The Long Island airport, not far from where we live is named after General MacArthur.)

Flint Michigan 1936, The Fisher Body Plant 1. The company G.M., was preparing to move the Plant out of Flint as a way to resist the Unions effort for recognition. The workers inside the Plant quickly realized that once the machine tools were removed from the plant it was goodbye jobs. How to prevent it? Flint Sit-down Strike was born.(A very dear friend, Henry Kraus, long departed wrote a great book about that strike. ”The Many and the Few.”)

The sit down strike went on for 44 days with the Michigan National Guard waiting out side. There was a band of tough women who were determined to to keep the strikers fed. There were lots of provocation to insight violence but the men inside the plant were determined to stay until they won their demands for Union Recognition and the rights that go with it. The sit-downers won and it become the turning point in the long fight to win union recognition at the GM. plants. The U.A.W. would become the most powerful union in the country. Helped change the Country by putting the assembly workers into the "middle class."

Okay, The next one I remember was “The Poor Peoples Campaign December 1968 Washington D.C. organized by the Southern Christian Leadership Council the had been led by Martin luther King. (King was assassinated April 4th in Memphis.) The Council then led by Minister Dr. Ralph Abernathy decided to go ahead with Kings original plan to bring thousands to Washington and camp there until they won their “Economic Bill of Rights.” That would mean equal employment opportunities for all peoples.

Seven to ten thousand people encamped on the National Mall in front of the Lincoln Memorial. It was called Resurrection City. They stayed there for six weeks. They were literally forced out by an incessant rain that never seemed to quit. Knee deep in mud they decided to go home. Needless to say nothing came of the Economic Bill of Rights. I hasten to add the early young Black occupiers of the lunch counters changed America. Like the Auto workers they also were inside.

This of course brings me to, “Occupy Wall Street.” Yes, of course I am fully supportive of the “Movement.” It is now being called a “movement.” Well I’m not sure of that either. A movement need some clear definition or goals or both. ie, the Civil Rights movement, the Labor movement, the Feminist movement. All had very specific objectives. I know, i’ve been told that this is a knew way to bring people together without creating an organization that ultimately leads to leaders, bureaucracies and the end of participatory democracy. Maybe so. On the other hand I don’t know how the “movement” makes known exactly what it wants to do to change how wealth becomes distributed so the 99 percent can be part of the economic benefits?

Looking back at the experiences of the occupiers. I would suggest that comes this long hard winter somehow the OWS movement will need to define why these wonderful brave people are freezing their butts off for exactly what? In the case of the Flint Sit-ins they had very clear objectives and they were inside a building. Yes, the heat was turned off. Still easier to deal with the weather than on the street. Same was true of the lunch counter occupiers. Look I want the OWS to succeed and I don’t understand the reluctance to say clearly what is wanted. Yes I get clear inference from we are the 99 percent. Okay then what? If I were out there with those brave folks I would love to make this same argument. And I’d love to hear the response.

"Make Me Do It" F.D.R. IN THE 1930'S

Can we make Obama Do It?

The economic crisis is the producer of social unrest. (Pssst, listen this goes back to old Karl Marx. Still holding true.) Things get bad enough, people get mad enough and take to the streets. That's how the French Revolution got going. The starving masses demanded bread. The Queen made famous with “Let em eat cake.”

I am surprised by the number of Tea Party people whose response to the Occupy Wall Street is “why don’t go look for a job.” Wow it’s just like the 1930s Depression. Back then, lead by the Hearst newspapers, forerunner of the Mordoch, Fox News Empire were busy with the same cry. “Why don’t those people marching on Washington go look for a job.” The unemployment rate right now is trumpeting “THERE AIN’T NO JOBS, STUPID.

With the A.W.S. Spreading around the world the social unrest is beginning to have an impact. In Europe the Eurozone leaders are working desperately to come up with some kind of solutions that they are hoping will slow down the Social Unrest Movement. Difference between the USA and Europe is the presents of strong Socialist and Communist parties that scare the bejesus out of the ruling capitalists. Unfortunately we have neither of them in the good old USA. That’s to bad. An organized left in the US would be very helpful in scaring concessions out of the ruling class.

I believe the A.W.S. movement, if one can call it that, is having an effect on President Obama. Yes, I know I can hear some of my friends saying, “Schrank, that’s just wishful thinking.” Well, maybe. Yet I see a real effect, for instance in Obama’s move on the Jobs Bill. When the GOP blocked in the Senate the Dems broke it up into pieces forcing the GOP to vote against any measure that in any way looks like a victory for the President. As I write the GOP leaders seem to be agreeing to some elements of the jobs Bill. Effect of social unrest? Maybe.

On Student Loans Obama, without going to the Congress found a way to make administrative changes that will be helpful to those trying to payoff the loans.. Good, Mr. President. Find ways to do more of that. Maybe he has finally learned. That reaching across the aisle just gets his hand slapped? A real test will be the upcoming deal between the GOP and the Dems.on the Super Committee for reducing the deficit. If they don’t agree there will be draconian cuts across the board. The Super Committee was a very dumb idea that never should have been agreed to in the first place. Once the Comm. gets going you know who will be whacked the hardest? Rumor has it that the Dems on the Committee have already made concessions on Medicare and Social Security, God help them if that’s true.

The Administration should be searching for ways to undue this terrible Committee before the Dems. get another shellacking by trying to be nice. “When will they ever learn, When will they ever learn?” Remember the song?

These changes in Obama’s behavior I hope are indicators of the impact of Social Unrest. It’s the A.W.S, movement of protest against the the rich getting richer and the rest of us getting snookered could be wake up call for the Administration. I am also hoping that the protests become more vocal and spreads to additional cities That could make the President, DO IT.” (I love that story.) Yes that’s what Franklin D. Roosevelt said to A. Philip Randolph President of the Sleeping Car Porters Union. Randolph had complained that the New Deal was not helping his members get any benefits from the New Deal. F.D.R’s reply was, “Philip go out and Make Me Do IT.”

That’s what I hope the Occupy Wall Street protests are doing to Obama. Making him do it. Okay, so what is the IT? The IT is making the President put up a fight for the very existence of the middle class. Yes I know, whatever happened to the “working class?” It was dropped probably because the upwardly mobile didn’t like being called “working class.” So, the economists started to call them the middle class and the working class was abolished. Maybe? Of course don’t forget an additional variable, the upcoming 2012 Presidential Election. Wow, the air is already begin to smell bad from all the bull that is flying around.

The A.W.S is the best breath of fresh air we have had in a long time. Sure wish I could camp out with them. This is the best I can do now.

What To Do on a 94th Birthday?

On Oct 19th I finally hit the 94th. Somehow, no not somehow but through my father who loved to quote Johann Goethe I knew what we needed to do. In my childhood there was a sampler that hung on our kitchen wall. My papa would often suggest to my older sisters that it is a saying they should live by. I found it mysterious and finally got papa to translate. (With the Nazis conquest of Germany papa stopped speaking German.) Here’s what the sampler said.

“EVERY DAY ONE SHOULD AT LEAST LISTEN TO A LITTLE SONG, READ A GOOD POEM, LOOK AT A FINE PAINTING AND IF POSSIBLE SAY A FEW REASONABLE WORDS.” Goethe That saying some how fit my birthday at the Metropolitan Opera listening to Anna Netrebko sing Anna Bolena. Okay it wasn’t just a “little song.” It made up for all the days I missed any song.

The music, the singing, the acting, the 3000 people in the audience all deeply involved with the singers in this musical walk through 1536. Yes, we despise Henry the VIII but we loved Ildar Abrazakov who sang the role with brilliant artistry as did the soprano Ekterina Gubanovaas as Jane Seymour. What is about this experience that I find so invigorating, uplifting, life changing or all of the above. To hear Netrebko sing to the farthest corner of this great hall with an ability to color her voice from the saddest to the most defying note goes right to the center of my spine or where the soul resides.

As she sings you can feel a growing tension in the audience. As the music grows so does our connection. She is telling us of her foreboding. She knows what Henry has in mind for her. She also knows there is no escape. Yet she sings with a defense of her true love, Percy that the evil Henry no matter what he does cannot destroy. As she sings to, her crescendo the audience entrapped with her situation bursts into a spontaneous eruption of brava brava and hand clapping. It is a tumultuous thanks that promises never to be forgotten. For me that is what great opera or theater is about. And yet there is much more.

I leave that theatre as I have so many times in my long life with a renewed hope for humanity. “Look” I say to Kate what wonders human can produce. I find this as an essential antidote to the the ongoing cacophony of the haters, killers, rapists, spin miesters, and yes even the growing collapse of planet earth. Does it sound like a religion? Maybe? On my 10th birthday as I walk with my papa through the Metropolitan Museum of art he is helping me to see the greatness in Gothe’s “fine paintings” The Goethe poetry is in the theater or a reading of Edna Saint Vincent Millay or Walt Whitman.

Finally I would hope that these blogs fall under Goethe’s definition of, “saying a few reasonable words”. That has been my birthday menu for as long as I can remember. To celebrate all those wonders that Goethe wants us to be part of. In this world of despair it is the works of art that save me for yet another year of living that sampler on my childhood kitchen wall. Thanks for the good wishes that many of you have sent. Now its on to the 95th. Kate says that will be a big one. What will we do for that? We’ll see after I check out how the Wall Street fighters are doing. There is also some nifty new lumber sitting in the shop. It is calling me to turn it into a piece of beautiful furniture. I will certainly continue to try.

Who Can the Left Dance With?

Bulletin The Police clean up brigade backed away and the protesters are still there. Hurray for them.

The Occupy Wall Street is now going full blast. As I write, there is a threatened showdown for this morning. The billionaire Mayor of New York City says he needs to clean the Park. The occupiers say they have been cleaning it and its just fine. The NYPD will be sent in on the pretext of a clean up brigade. I have always felt that Bloomberg was just waiting for the moment to get tough with that “disorderly bunch of protesters.” We got us an, anal billionaire Mayor.” Who would've guessed?

As I have been watching and reading about Occupy Wall Street, O.W.S. I have been struck by how the left is trying to find a way to tie the nation wide demonstrations to a political strategy. There have been blistering attacks on Obama from people like Greenwald, Olberman, Maddow. Very serious voices on the left. Other left web-sights have been running pieces showing how Obama is a complete product and friend and of Wall Street. They sight his present fund raising efforts from the very sources that the O.W.S. folks are going after all hammer and tongs. A paradox indeed.

Herein lies the problem. If the O.W.S. protests are to succeed it needs to tie itself to some political organization or create an entirely new one. At this point I don’t see any potential for the latter.I hope I am wrong. That brings me to the Left’s dilemma with Obama. For an assortment of reasons early on the Left was very ecstatic about the President. Look, it was very hard to resist the simple fact that we had ELECTED A BLACK PRESIDENT. There was a few folks even during the, “hale the conquering hero stage” who suggested we calm our enthusiasm because “He aint what we think he is.”

There was absolutely nothing in his background that would suggest that he would take on a real fight for social and economic justice for working people. They were right. Yes there were some achievements. They have become lost in Obama’s obsession to compromise. Which he did and got bubkas in return. Look, on the other hand that’s exactly how he made it in the white mans world. Has he learned from his new experience? We’ll see. (There are so many WE’LL SEE’S these days.)

My own view. What is non existent is any kind of movement that would PUSH Obama AND SUPPORT HIM AT THE SAME TIME. That basically grew out of my experience through the 1930s and 40s. Sighting F.D.R’s rejoinder to A Philip Randolfrs complaint the Black workers were not receiving their fare share of the New Deal. F.D.R’s reply was,. “Philip you go out there and make me do it.” Keeping in mind that back then there was a most powerful Labor and Left wing political movements that could mobilize millions of workers at short notice. That’s what I felt Obama lacked. An organized left that could, “make him do it.” Is this just wishful thinking? Maybe.

Okay, so leaves me with the original question. Who is the present day Left going to dance with? (No I only watched Dancing With Stars” once.) If the O.W.S. folks want some way to put their demands to get the control of the US economy out of the hands of the big bankers they need a dancing partner some-where's in the political spectrum. Oh, wait a minute. If they want to basically change the system from capitalism to something else. That’s a horse of a different color. I simply don;t see any sign of that.

We on the left are continuing to wring more concessions out of capitalism to make it more friendly to working people. Heah, that’s what we’ve been doing for the last, close to 100 years. Yes, we always had to find partners in Washington to dance with. That’s the O.W.S. dilemma. If and when they emerge the O.W.S. strategists,, will have to deal with the problem. Otherwise the great O.W.S. protest will quickly fade with the fall leaves while the 2012 elections beckon. What do they do then? Romney or Perry against Obama? Ouch!

Welcome To Social Unrest 2

I have written a number of blogs about Social Unrest, SU. Harking back to the 1930s we marched for Unemployment Insurance, Social Security, Home Relief, Minimum Wage and the right to organize unions. With F.D.R.s help we achieved it and the New Deal was born. That’s how we dealt with SU back then. Now, seventy years later we are confronted with yet another economic crisis. 25 Million unemployed. A large proportion are college graduates with huge school debts and no jobs in sight. The GOP threatening to pay for the crisis by repealing the New DeaL Once again making the majority of working people pay for the mistakes of the money speculators. For President Obama looking at election day 2012 this could be the make or break situation.

Since Obama’s election I have thought that without a mass movement behind him to create a fight against the right wing we were going nowhere's. Yupp I turned out to be on target. But, look a here? We have this budding new anti Wall Street protesters taking over Zuccotti Park as a base for their fight against the “Money Changers.” Here comes the SU and it’s spreading across the country. Great, God I wish I could join them. (My old legs are beginning to give up even as I keep pushing them.) How did this SU happen?

For years now I have been decrying the absence of any organized left in the US that would be a countervailing force against the Tea Party GOP right wing. Low and behold. I simply don’t understand how Cyberspace can be used as an organizing tool. I’m stuck in this old fashioned notion that you got have a meeting of concerned people to organize a demonstration. They come up with the major slogans of the movement. This is not at all like that. Still not sure how it works. It seems that a bunch of people busy Twittering, Tweeting and Face-booking can manage to all show up at an agreed time and place. They make up their own signs, create demands on the spot, create theater, sing songs and if needs-be take on the police.

However, I admit that when they finally breakthrough on the Evening News I’m exclaiming, “Hooray but what are their demands?” I am told that I don’t understand this new kind of protest. The demands will emerge as people gather and discuss the issues. That sounds fine and I hope it happens. Yet I worry that the issues may be come clouded when they need to be very clear if we are looking for mass support. I like. “JOBS IS A BASIC RIGHT”” “DEMOCRACY MEANS FULL EMPLOYMENT” “TAX THE RICH ONE PERCENT.” “THEY OWN THE COUNTRY” WE ARE THE 99 %” “WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO FAIRNESS?” “JAIL FOR THE WALL STREET BONUS CROOKS.”

Okay, so You see I’m from an old school style of organizing. If you get your demands right they will show up. That’s how we organized all those great unions back in the 20th Century. The slogans came from careful listening to the people you were organizing. What was on their minds and how do we express it. In Madison Wisconsin and in Ohio they were handed the issues by the GOP State leadership who simply said, “the unions are dead we are not going to recognize them anymore.” Okay, that’s easy. “PROTECT OUR RIGHT TO COLLECTIVE BARGAINING.”

I Am anxious to see how this new style mass organizing action works out? I don’t want to connect it to “The Arab Spring.” I really don’t believe that’s going anywhere's because there is no clear cut way for those demonstrators to press their demands. In the US there is the looming Presidential election and that’s what this hubbub is about. Yes, my regular readers remember I said when push comes to shove on election day 2012 faced with the GOP crazy ideas of wiping out the New Deal we on the left will vote for Obama. I hope the independents will too. The lesser evil. Yes of course. “We did it before and we will do it again.” Old WW2 song. My best RS

Defining Moments or

Who Am I Anyhow?

I must first acknowledge the first signs of social unrest that is happening as I right. Down around Wall Street they are raising hell. They are demanding action on Jobs, Foreclosures and exposing the economic unfairness as Wall Street keeps giving themselves bonuses. Yes it’s only the beginning. If the right wing nuts start to go through with their threats to dismantle Social Security and Medicare the Wall Street demonstration will just be a warm up. I promise to get back to this. In the meantime let me get this off my chest. How do we learn who we are?

Oh, this is all part of a 94 year old nonagenarian problem. Maybe you have wondered,“who am I and why am I here.”. Somehow once you enter the twilight zone that question becomes more persistent. Maybe it’s a summarizing issue of what kind of a life have I lived? I am sure there a many ways to find answers. I like, “defining moments.” They are the times when we get a real sense of who we are, The first such moment I can recall. (The reader might want to recall your first.)

Mt family starting with my father, mother two sisters were all Bronx Zoo fans. We lived across the street from the entrance. Many a fascinating night I lay awake listening to the lions roar making believe I was in Africa. We saved all out stale bread to feed the animals. Eventually the antelopes would see me coming and the whole bunch would coming up to the fence. Papa said I had to give it evenly so no one would get it all. Each time I went there I would feel on top of the world as this whole field of caged animals would come running. It was a defining moment. I learned about the reward of generosity.

In 1930 I made my first wagon out of some old baby carriage wheels a wooden box and a piece of two by four. Then I added a battery and a car horn arugha arugha. Defining moment. Helping, Smitty the local plumber. He insisted I learn to distinguish the names of all pipe fittings. That lead to my getting a job as a plumbers helper. That brings me to the present issue of how we reward kids?

Sometime in the sixties the notion of building self-esteem took hold of education. That idea suggested that in order for children to have a sense of who they are they needed to be rewarded. What happened as a result of that movement was an explosion of a trophies, for everybody. No matter our team lost the game we got the same trophy as the winners. It was called a win, win situation. Now who do we think we are kidding? Children know who won and who lost. They know when another kid is better than they are. But the worst part of this stuff is that it fails to teach that’s it’s okay to lose but try again next time. Most of all learn from mistakes.

I have been extremely fortunate in my life to have had defining moments right up to now. Speaking on a Bronx street corner 1935 a little old lady comes up to me after my talk. She takes off a Saint Christopher Medal and simply puts it around my neck. “God Bless you son and may Saint Christopher keep you safe.’ My radical comrades look on in astonishment. “Robert we didn’t know, are you religious?” I never said a word just stood there in the moment. I also had nights when I was pelted with garbage. Washed my clothes and went out and tried a different approach.

My son Fred is the lead double bass player in the Madison Symphony. They are playing Mahler’s 2nd the Resurrection. There is a long bass solo. Fred plays it. At the end the hall is on they-re feet in applause. The Conductor asks Fred to take a bow. Fred calls me says, ”Dad don’t know what happened tonight? The music took to me to some other place. I have never played that well before.” Ahaa, a defining moment. I'm sure it helps him understand who he is.

Working with a bunch of Juvenile Delinquents in 1964 at Mobilization for Youth it struck me very early on that these 16 to 20 year olds simply have never experienced any positive achievements. Our job was to create work projects that were learning related. Our work crews renovated an old tenement building on east 10th street. Locals told me that on the weekends our kids brought their girlfriends to show off their accomplishment.

I’m in New Mexico visiting my daughter. She is singing in a Mexican Night Club. I am in the audience. She sings Jalisco. The people at my table are insisting she must be from Mexico. I can’t resist and say no she’s from the Bronx. They don’t believe me. “She can’t sing that way from the Bonx” Well, she does because of time spent in Mexico listening and absorbing the culture. The dollar bills are flowing down on her like snowflakes. She looks even more surprised than her visiting father. Defining moment.

My Great Grandson Soren now 3 is learning to speak. I am,told what he enjoys most is when he makes up a new word and can announce it for an hour. The beginning of defining moments. What do we need to do to help children develop self esteem? Support them in their struggle to become whatever it is that requires real investment on their part.When it happens they will have a true sense of achievement. We defeat their whole experience when we give them trophies for losing because we think it makes them feel good.

Feel good may be the opposite of any sense of accomplishment. Maybe the present educational craze of test passing falls into the same category. Pass the test you get a trophy. Wether or not anything was learned is an entirely different question.

Might try a little experiment of your own. Write down a sheet of paper the defining moments in your life. You might be surprised. My best RS

Computer Rage!

Yes, that's what it was last night as I wrote a blog, “Defining Moments.” I went to transfer it from Pages to my Browser and somewhere’s along the way I LOST IT. Dam machine. This has always been my nightmare with this otherwise magical wonder. When I was writing my book “Wasn’t That A Time” I lost a couple of chapters and some smart ass Geeks at Apple found them and saved my life. Someone will ask, “but did you save it?’ yes of course I always do. Question is where did it go” No it’s not in Pages and it’s not in the Trash. Let me forget it for now.

Today I went to a beautiful wedding of two dear friends Bill and Didi out in the woods near Orient Point. It was a perfect example of how everyday life goes on no matter all the bullshit whirling around our economic-political crisis. In the darkest days of McCarthyism I was preoccupied with holding the union together. As I traveled the State as the NY State President of the Machinists Union I was always impressed with how people from Town to Town would continue with the rituals of their everyday existence. Somehow I always found that reassuring. Not sure why? Here’s more stuff to piss me off.

The Editorial Section of the Sunday Times has a full page story, “What Happened to the American Left” by Michael Kazin. (Pssst he has a new book out on the same subject.) Tell you about that soon as I read it. But for now let me just show you one example of what happened to the left. Accompanying the article is a half page picture of the Mayday Demonstration in Union Square New York in 1934. Yes, of course I was there. Guess who organized that and all the other major demonstrations of that period? The Communist Party that's who and there is absolutely no mention of that simple fact anywhere in Kazin’s article.

The word communist has been stricken from our speech except when the crazies want to scare the feathers off us chickens. The lesson that should be obvious is that if you demonize a critical part of the left you have cut of a major piece of the body politic.

The answer to Kazins question is there is no equivalent institution to the Communist Party that can actually organize a demonstration like the one shown in the picture. The demoneization of the communists is at the heart of the problem of the Left. Yes you can refuse to acknowledge that they even existed but with that you lose all the practical know how when it comes to organizing the discontent. The Tea Party has taken that over.

Thank you Didi and Bill for a enveloping us in all the love and joy in your Thomas Hardy day in the Countryside. The only thing missing was some Moooing Cows. Love RS

Slouching to 94

Sometimes I feel like Old Gray Mare
That’s a song. A trusty old Mare
Ain’t what she used to be
Neither is this trusty old Stallion.
Ain’t what he used to be.
I try hard pay no attention.
Can’t get that song outta my head.

Okay, Kate’s on girls night out.
I go to my Old Steak House
Memory dinner. Dear departed Mike.

“Schrank come on Steak & Boilermakers
What say?” (Only union blokes at Ford Foundation.)
“Christ, nobody here has a clue on boilermakers.”
Whiskey and beer Whiskey and beer.

Last boilermaker? Maybe twenty years.
Wow I’m flat on my ass. Can’t eat the steak.
Still gotta get home. Old Gray Stallion ain’t what he usetobe.

Damm the reminders. Can’t digest all that meat.
Can’t swing a 8 pound hammer no more.
Yeah, I’ll wear the helmet, no matter
Can’t ride the bike no more .outa balance.
Shush, can make a little bit of old time love.

Nice warm bath. How the hell to get outa tub?
Changed many, many flat tires. Honestly I can.
“Damm nuts are now to tight. “I told you, call Triple A.”

Pushups forget, subway stairs forget, Merry go-round okay
Roller Coaster? Forgetit. Forget the Appalachian trail. How about
A walk around the block? “Make sure you take your cane.”

Danced in 2011 New Years Eve. How about 2012 ?
“Better do somthin about those swollen feet.”
I know it’s MIND OVER MATTER. MIND KNOWS IT.
Somebody, tell Old Gray Stallion’s feet?

Gifts Given, Curiosity!

As I slouch toward 94 I feel an urge to write again of Gifts Given.

It is Sept.10th 2000. Kate and I are readying ourselves for a highly anticipated trip to London. We were excited to see Shakespeare at the Globe Theater. Then on Sept. 11th our plans together with the World Trade Center disappear in a cloud of dust, We are pinned to the sky and the Tele watching these 100 story buildings collapse like something built out of a bunch of pick up sticks. It is impossible to grasp the reality of all those lives lost in the unfolding catastrophe.

As we sit in horror and listen to all the blah blah blah about who plotted it and who did it I was nagged by a fundamentally different question. Why did these buildings collapse like a house of cards and result in all those horrible deaths? Did the terrorists know that the Twin towers would dissolve into the biggest ruble, dust pile ever? I very much doubt it. So, what caused that to happen and who might be responsible?

Curiosity, simply would not let me sleep until I found an answer. Here’s what I found. 1. The Twin Towers were built during the Nelson Rockefeller Governorship of New York. (2. They was a slop to the Building Trades Unions. Their vote was essential to his election.) 3. The Twin Towers were designed by a Japanese architect Minouri Yamasaki maybe he was ignorant of New York City building codes. Built by the Port of New York and New Jersey Authority. 4.Therefor they were not built according to the Construction Code of the City of New York. 5 THOSE 110 Floors WERE HUNG ON THE OUTSIDE WALLS WITH WITH ABSOLUTELY NO INTERIOR SUPPORT.

6. Firefighters long ago learned of the dangers of floor suspension on outside walls. In a fire the heat pushes those walls out and down come the floors. That’s a Crypt for any firemen, or anyone else caught between floors. New York City building code requires internal support columns. Why were there none? Because that left more open space to rent.Make ,More money.

Case in point. By sheer accident in 1945 a WW2 Bomber smashed into the 75th floor of the Empire State building. Damage? Of course strictly to the floor where it hit. Why because the Empire State buildings floors do not hang on the outside walls. It has interior support columns as do all the skyscrapers in the city.

This was quite a different take on the tragedy of Sept. 11th. It wasn’t just the terrorists who had caused those buildings to collapse it was also the negligence of the builders. And of course why did the FBI or the CIA do nothing about a group of foreigners who were training to fly airplanes but not land and takeoff? Having gone through flight training all I did was land and takeoff what seemed like hundreds of times in order to be certified. Bureaucratic hang-ups or the inability to ask WHY WHY WHY? That’s all part of the tragedy of 9/11.

As a very young child I was being taught the importance of “Questioning Authority” starting with. “But The Emperor is Naked.” Too “why did all those founding fathers own Slaves at the same rime that they were championing the idea of freedom? Holding a nickel in his hand papa would ask “who is this God that we trust? If you find him you can keep the nickel.” Thanks pap

Everything that struck my eye that I didn’t understand had to be learned, How was the subway built and what made it run meant hundreds of rides up in the front train looking out at the tracks and asking a friendly trainmen how the brakes made it stop. And of course the magic of those giant electric motors that run it. Every bit of it had to be learned. That burning curiosity I believe is the most important trait for serious learning.

According to my Papa, the first step is the ability to doubt even in the place of universal acceptance. Like saying “The Pledge of Allegiance” in Public School. That was my Papa's first lesson in being able to stand alone for what you did not believe. The second lesson had to do with what was the role of that pledge and why was it being taught? Ahaa conformity! Essential to get everyone to believe and CONFORM a fundamental requirement for all who rule. Thank you papa.

Those were the hard parts. The fun part came with all those wonderful discoveries at the Museum of Science and Industry that was on the 4th and 5th floors of the old Daily News Building on 42nd Street. At age 12 I was there so often that the Guards knew my name. From cutaway engines I learned exactly how the car engine and transmissions worked. I could name all the different kinds of gear mechanisms. How the cars electrical system worked including the generator that charged the battery etc. etc. Each one of those learning experiences was a joyous discovery. In my later years going to college there was the same kind of discovery in physics, economics, sociology and the humanities. That was just the continuation of a life of endless discovery that never seems to end. A most remarkable gift. Thank you all who provided and encouraged asking why or how or what for?

About Irene

About Irene
It’s only about a week since we had to pack up and move to a neighbors home on higher ground. As a friend from Connecticut upon visiting said, “you don’t live by the water you live in it.” Some truth to that especially when the storm season is upon us. Like now.

Our most critical problem in the hurricane season is the anticipation. It is raised to frenzied heights by the broadcast media. To make sure they scare the life out of you they show you all the destruction brought on by previous hurricanes, And in case you didn’t notice the Weather Channels commercials time doubles triples during these emergencies. (More people are watching and being scared.)

I think it was Heidigger who suggested that anxiety is created by anticipation. Indeed it is and so by the time the storm arrives you are spent like an old wrong out mop. I have rediscovered an old problem of writing about the past. The problem may increase with time but here it is. As I write about what happened a week or ten days ago am I writing as I am in it? Or how I am remembering it? Or put another way. Is that of it? Or about it? Believe me these are not the same thing.

I learned this lesson while writing “Wasn’t That A Time.” There I was trying to reconstruct time that was 60 years old. How do you do that? You are required to re-imagine what happened. It is in that process you are consciously or otherwise interpreting what happened. That is very different from live reporting in the time it is happening. I now have had time to think about the incident and like it or not I color it.

Okay we are 24 hours away from the hurricane strike. We start to pack up. What to take what to leave? You walk around the house looking at each thing knowing your not going to take any of it. Maybe you are saying goodbyes to many objects of affection that have sweet memories tucked away inside. You end up with your medicines, change of clothes and the guitar. Our pictures, a few original oils were carried off to safety by a dear friend. We leave with a heavy heart and not a clue of what nature intends.

I know in my gut that people younger than me are in a terrible fear for their future. I know from the experience of others that a total loss of your home is as traumatic as losing a major piece of your life. Oh, sure I know we are not supposed to get attached to stuff. That may not apply to stuff that has become part of your self. These are things that have meaning far far beyond the thing itself. My guitar is a good example. It has given me some of the happiest moments of my long life and I love it. Could it be replaced? Well of course but the new one wouldn’t have my spit marks all over it. I have the same feelings about some of my books and my wood-shop tools.

We said goodbye to the house and went up the road to higher ground. Spent a nice evening with our local friends and others they had rescued from around the Island. We slept through the storm and the next day bright and sunny went to look how our little house stood the storm. Lo, and behold there it was muddy all around but unscathed. We spent the day shoveling mud and being happy that we still had a home. Kate was quick to get at rescuing the garden that had been inundated with salt water the enemy of plants.

That’s my memory of our siege through hurricane Irene. I am very glad the hurricane Katia is going far east of us. But there not through with us yet. Not until October. In the meantime we are wondering why do we live here? Is it because today as I write this and look out the window it is breath taking beautiful.

Hampton Classic Time Again

Was going to write about or Hurricane Irene experience but that has to wait as it is Hampton Classic time here on Long Island. Besides I love my riding in another, “ Classic” Enjoy RS

I confess, I am rerunning this blog again because in some ways it reminds me of the absurdities of our every day news reports. Besides it does remind me of another absurdity, me riding in a horse show in Mexico City. This was long before the drug Cartels took over the country. I still think of my time there as a very happy experience.

It is now Hampton Classic time out here on Long Island and I had another memory jolt. The horses reminded me of an early Sunday morning in Mexico City. I was at the stables of the Presidential Palace for an early breakfast. You are wondering, “What on earth was he doing there?” I was too.

It was probably 1965. I was in charge of Youth Employment programs for the City of New York. John Lindsay, the Mayor, asked if I would be willing to go to Mexico to evaluate a youth employment training program called “Instituto Nacional La Juventud,” National Institute of Youth. It was wintertime and I could not be more delighted to leave the City for whatever reason. (Mayor Lindsay sometimes referred to my job as “keeping the city from burning.” We did that by employing as many as 50,000 kids in summer jobs.)

Once in Mexico City I was treated like royalty, with chauffeured car and airplane at my disposal, to be able to visit any one of dozens of cities and towns that had Youth Training Programs. I would visit the programs, spend a day or two observing, and make notes. Getting back to the Horse Show.

On Friday evening my host, Sergio Alvarez, Director of the Instituto, announced, “Sunday morning we ride with Mexico’s National Equestrian Team at the Presidential Palace in a practice jumping session.” You have to understand that Sergio, a small highly energetic man, spoke in proclamations that came out as major facts that simply could not be denied. Yet I valiantly tried saying, “Sergio, I know how to ride a horse, but for God sake I would not think for a moment I could ride with Mexico’s best riders. Besides, I know absolutely nothing about jumping a horse over a hurdle, and I have no riding clothes.” That last was a desperate attempt to get out of this impending disaster. To Sergio it mattered not. “Roberto,” he announced, “we have all your sizes and your clothes and boots will be waiting for you at the arena.” And so I gave in to Sergio’s determination that this was going to happen.

Early Sunday morning there was Sergio all decked out in boots, jodhpurs, tailored riding jacket, and helmet, assuring me that the very same outfit awaited me at the stable. We arrived at the great hall where dozens of men where already eating breakfast of eggs rancheros. There was no silverware and I noticed people were using there rolls as a way of scooping up the peppers and eggs.

I was greeted as a dignitary from Estados Unidos who will “honor us by riding in our La Pista.” I was still hoping that the riding outfit wouldn’t fit and that would be my way out. At this point Sergio was insisting that it would be a real insult if I were to withdraw. “Roberto,” he exclaimed “do you want to insult us by being disdainful of our riding ability? No Roberto, for the sake of the relations between our two great countries you must ride.” Sergio was what some Mexican friends described as a “declamador,” who declaimed as though he was addressing the multitudes. There was nothing to do but put on the outfit (it fit amazingly well) and make the best of it.
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We proceeded to the riding hall and again it was announced that Roberto Schranko from Estados Unidos would be riding with the equestrian team. As I watched these fabulous riders and their horses go over the hurdles from a foot off the ground to what appeared like six feet, I was in awe of the grace and the ease with which they managed the ride. I did not have a clue regarding how they were being judged. It was getting to be late morning and I thought, “Oh well, they probably forgot about me,” when Sergio came to remind me it was time to “mount up.” Back to the stable. There was a beautiful horse held in check by a groom who very graciously, with a movement of his hand toward the horse, suggested I mount; which I did. Once up in the saddle, it seemed to me this was the tallest horse I had ever been on.

Adding to my overwhelming anxiety and prayer that this horse would know what to do, since I didn’t, was the fact that I was sitting on an English saddle instead of a nice Western with that great knob up front you could hold on to when things got hairy. Everything from here on out was now in the hands of the Gods, or the horse, or both.

The groom led us into the La Pista and sent me and the horse off to the very first hurdle. I gave the reigns a little lift, which is what I thought was a signal to the horse to jump. Once past that first hurdle there was a round of applause from the audience. I thought, “Well heck, that wasn’t so bad.” Then came the next and the next and the next, and after each one a loud applause. As I approached that final six-footer I thought, “Man, just hang on here or for sure you will be dumped.” But this dear sweet horse just took it his stride and over we went. Now there was thunderous applause. Sergio came forward to congratulate me on my great spirit. I had sacrificed myself to make the Mexican’s feel good by knocking down every single pole from the first to the last. “Roberto, you are a great friend of Mexico and we will never forget what you did here today.”

As the trophies were handed out, I was given a silver belt buckle with a Road Runner bird on it. I thought that was a perfect portrayal of me at the “Hampton Classic” in Mexico City. This was yet another case of “never look back,” for if I had I would have realized how absurd this whole episode was. I thanked the horse for getting me through the hurdles without a single refusal to jump.

Irene Goodnight Leadbelly Song No Irene Go Away!

So here I am trying to figure out our plan for dealing with yet another Hurricane. Been trying to count how many times in my life I have done this? The first one I remember was in 38. I was working for Packard Motor Car. Owned a 1929 Packard Touring car. It was great for driving through water because of its large wheels. Boss at the garage said “here kid take a couple of batteries and some either and for 50 cents go start up stalled cars. You should make a few bucks.” Driving around the Bronx all the way to City Island made about $20 dollars. A lot of money back when gas was .20 cents a gallon and a hot dog a nickel.

Living in New York City you didn’t pay much attention to hurricanes. We didn’t own our own homes and besides the very structures in the City tended to break up the wind patterns. It wasn’t until the fifties when I started going to Fire Island that hurricanes became a familiar experience. Back then, there was no “Weather Channel” or even radio didn’t endlessly scream warnings at us that our world will soon be destroyed via the wind or flood or both. Today I am scared to death of what awaits me comes Saturday Night. Part of my trepidation is my age insecurity. I no longer feel like I “can take on anything and survive.” I’m not sure when I past that point but I have. I am now dependent on others. The other part is the Media scaring the daylights out of us by its ceaseless bombardment.

In the 1950s I bought a little “fixer upper” bungalow on Fire Island. I was spending a weekend underneath the house putting in new posts. Went to sleep and the next morning looked out and there was water up to the porch. Coast Guard guy comes by in a boat, “what the hell you doing here this place was evacuated.?” I don’t know I was sleeping. “You wanna leave now?” No why, it’s a beautiful day?” Well okay but be careful on the beach, it’s a really heavy surf.

Went down to the beach and lo and behold there were all the local yokels with their Jeeps. They were pulling stuff out of the surf deposited by the houses that were being tossed into the sea. That was an amazing site. Whole house being picked up and dumped into the ocean like pancakes on a grill. As I walked along what was left of the beach Poseidon favored me with the gift of a large Dutch frying pan that I treasure to this day. (Have to rescue it from Kate who thinks it’s pretty useless.) Taught me that some things we own have value only for the person who experienced the point of sentimental creation. They're precious memories.

Okay so here we are living halfway out on Long Island. We are sweating out our preparations for Hurricane Irene. Everything that might become airborne has to be put away or anchored. Sixteen feet of a glass wall facing the bay has to be shuddered up with corrugated aluminum shutters from Florida. Everything from the woodworking shop has to be raised up out of the flood that will certainly encircle us. Kate’s got her waist high wading boots ready. The night of the storm we will go stay with some very kind neighbors who live on higher ground. That’s essential as I could easily have a medical emergency. Our home could be in two feet of water and no Emergence vehicle is going to come near it. I hate to leave but we just have to go.

Wow, if anyone can’t see the changing climate patterns they must be totally blocked by their refusal to accept reality. Talk about a “state of denial.”

I recently came upon an interesting study that correlates El Nino with increasing war and social unrest. It goes something like this. The more the presence of El Nino ie. the warming of the Pacific ocean the greater the increase in wars and social unrest around the world. El Nino produces increased drought, intense storms, tornadoes, and flooding. .In other word extreme weather. That's what Climate Change is all about. Why can’t people see that?

So what we are now observing weather wise is a dress rehearsal of more to come. The droughts and hunger in Africa are already putting the migratory pressure on Europe as the African natives run from the drought parched land. (See my blog on 7/10 on Immigration and Climate change.)

The so called“Arab Spring” has yet to produce a single country that has seriously moved to a democracy. I doubt that any will. That's because none of these countries have the raw materials or any tradition of a what democracy even means. Most important no Industrial Revolution to create some surplus. It was Fredrick Engels who suggested that the production of surplus allows a society to create a educated class essential to a democracy or socialism.

In the Arab lands there is a tragedy unfolding as people become disillusioned with the so called revolutions. They are not revolutions precisely because there was no clear vision of what would replace the old with the new. Without that vision the old just comes back decked up in some new clothes and take up where they left off. In Egypt the army ran the country with Mubarack and they still do. Sad, but so true.

Anyhow for me the biggest immediate threat is Hurricane Irene. I promise to stay focused on the wind, the rain, the flooding, the survival of our home and us. Wish us good luck as we may need it. Yet there is a part of natures fury that continues to fascinate me. Not sure why?

Four Years of Blogging "Lord Lord Lord"

Feels like folk song “The Grey Goose”

“They par boiled him lord lord lord and the saw couldn’t cut him lord------, the axe couldn’t chop him lord -------. The last time I seen him he was fl-yin cross the ocean. Goodbye to the Grey Goose.” Not sure why but blogging is somehow is like that. You just keep try-in and I’m never sure where its going to end up. Who cares except me?

This is my 4th anniversary of blogs. 215 later. That’s amazing. How did it happen? Well, you know it all started as a challenge from a Grandson and Son In Law. Both computer geeks. “Grandpa you seem to know some-thin about everything why don’t you write a blog?” Aha, there was the challenge. Nothing Grandpa likes more than a challenge. What is a blog? Son in law Robert has one on Poker Playing in Las Vegas. Read it. Wow that was really interesting.

Can I do it? How often do you have to say some thing? Why would anyone care? Yee Gods there are a million blogger's out there. Do we need another one? No, The issue is do you have anything to say? So far my answer has been, yes indeed. Ask my patient wife Kate. If the truth be told she’d say “ Except when he’s thinking about it or writing his blog, or working in the wood-shop he never shuts up.”

As I look back over the four years I am beginning to see patterns. Some friends have suggested I bring some themes together and do a book. Ah, a book is a different species from a blog. Oh, sure you could just string the blogs together sort like on a wash-line but that would quickly get boring. I’m going to see how the themes line up and then try to look at what I might say that would be of some interest for me and the reader.

That's how you do it. First it has to have interest for the writer, A lesson. A well known documentary film maker working with me on a Ford assembly line said, “Schrank, lets stop your tired and the camera doesn’t lie.” In some way writing is like the camera. If the writer is not excited by the subject why should the reader be? However in the meantime.

I do think, maybe ruminate a lot about everyday occurrences both in the news and in everyday life. That’s because long ago I learned that no matter what news might be shaking the world somehow or other everyday life goes on.

Ahaa, It was a cold winter day in 1936. Fortunately I was working, as a Plumbers Helper. (I really wanted to be on a March to Washington with an upraised fist demanding Unemployment Insurance. Fact is I wasn’t unemployed!) Working to clear a clogged up sewer main in a 30 story apartment building I got the greatest shit shower ever poured on a man. A bunch of plumbers had one hell of a laugh trying to clean me up as they hosed me down. First of many ha-zings in the world of plumbers.

After that I figured at any moment of any day somebody somewhere's is in a shit shower from a stopped up sewer line or a farmer spreading a similar material in a meadow, or someone peeling potatoes in a restaurant, or Firemen cooking a meal in the Firehouse or a bunch of stock brokers on a computer screen. Coal miners a mile down mining coal. Or women getting their hair curled in a beauty parlor. And on and on. All part of everyday life.

I guess on balance I like that gnawing curiosity that is always sending me to go learn. What is it, how it works, why is it here, who invented it, how is it made, what makes it fly, when will it crash and on and on and on.

Oh, I can see a blog on Curiosity. Or maybe on “Leadership and why we haven’t any.” Or why have men been losing their testosterone? Growing mouth beards instead. How come the very smart Israelis keep screwing things up? Why are we having 15 month election campaigns? Stuff like that.

See what I mean about curiosity? Stay tuned. I’m sure there’s a “Curiosity” blog in the making. That’s how it works. You just suddenly start thinking about a word, a thought, a happening and why and why. A blog is born. Happy anniversary. Love to you all wherever you are. Roberto

London Riots Lessons from the Sixties

The social unrest that is rocking London is probably a direct result of the Cameron governments austerity program. The worst thing a country can do when faced with high unemployment and an unstable financial situation is to institute an austerity program. NO,no, no That's like putting out a fire by pouring gasoline on it.

If folks would just pay attention to what FDR did in the 30s it was just the opposite. His Administration went on a huge spending spree to get the economy moving. The objective was to reduce the unemployment rate and if necessary CREATE JOBS. That’s how I ended up first on the NYA and later on the WPA. (NYA National Youth Administration Yupp I was a Detective looking for wife deserters.) On the WPA I worked on the building of Orchard Beach in the Bronx.

In the 60s we saw the some of the worst social unrest in US history. One major city after another was rocked by riots. The problem, not unlike London, was large numbers of bored, angry frustrated unemployed Black and Latino youth. How to respond?

Early on in the 60s Robert Kennedy the Attorney General had set up the National Committee on Juvenile Delinquency. That was an effort to deal with the social unrest problem among the 16 to 21 year olds. One of the experimental efforts to deal with this crisis was Mobilization for Youth, MFY. It was Located on the lower East side and sponsored by Columbia University. It was the beginning of the anti poverty efforts that Lyndon Johnson would make part of the Anti Poverty program.

MFY was setup as demonstration project to help poor mostly Black and Latino youth make it in the white mans middle class world. I was head of the work programs. I saw my job as providing successful real work experiences for 600 youth 16-21. These jobs at real work-sites would help them in transitions to jobs in private sector. We had managed to setup a restaurant, gas station, woodworking shop. print shop, sewing shop etc. Okay, It was the print shop that would get us into severe conflict with the Police and City Hall.

After a street altercation a police officer by the name of Gilligan had shot a black boy in Harlem. Much like we are seeing and hearing from London. The New York Daily News accused MFY of printing a poster with a skull and crossbones backdrop that said, “Get Gilligan the child killer.”

Oh man the Press was all over us when Robert Kennedy arrived unannounced to see for himself, “what the hell is going on here.” As I sat in the Police car with him, (he often showed up unannounced in a NYPD police car.) I explained that there was no way that we could have or would have printed such a poster. I toured him through all of work sights on the lower East side that made it crystal clear that we had absolutely no poster printing ability. As he told us to keep up the good work he departed with one of his staff saying, “the Attorney General was very favorably impressed with what you and your staff are doing.”

For most of the era of the sixties I would be involved in the youth employment issue. The point about our experiences at MFY was the bitterness of the right wing against anything the government was trying to do in dealing with the social unrest. While London concentrates on what the cops can do differently they better look closely to programs that will address the issues of the unemployed youth.

Yes, increased police presence will deter the rioting but it does not get at the underlying problems. To Lyndon Johnson’s credit he was determined to try to do something about the issues that lead people to act out in the streets expressing their bitter frustration with lives that simply had no place to go. In my years of working in that vineyard I learned the very tough lesson that simply increasing police deterrence will not make the problem go away. Oh yes it can hide the real problems but like a plugged up pressure cooker eventually it will explode and then lookout.

Along the way I became convinced that even without an overall solution it is better to address the problem with some actions than leave it to fester. It was in the Hot Summers of the 60s that we had as many as 50,000 youth on work projects. That was example of “action.” As Deputy Manpower Commissioner for Youth Employment the Mayor would remind me. “Your job is to keep the City from burning.” And indeed it was. This is how the London folks need to start thinking. How about a Summer Youth Work Program that can help in school youth engage in something more useful then smashing shop windows?

Out of the sixties experience of MFY came the Job Corps. It remains to this day as a residential job training program that has effected the live of millions of youth. A couple of million kids, 16 to 24 have gone through Job Corps training. Is it a solution to all the ills that ghetto youth are prone to? Of course not. It is what I call an “imperfect adjustment” to a social economic problem of today's society. For some time I have believed that is the best we can do in our present circumstance is to make “imperfect adjustments.” That’s what the folks in Britain need to think about otherwise they will be sweeping a hell of a lot more glass on their main thoroughfares. Especially the fancy ones.

What Goes Around Comes Around

The Stinger Surface to Air Missile

Remember “Charlie Wilson’s War”

Yes, that was the name of the movie about the Congressmen from Texas who seemed to single hand-idly got us involved in the Soviet Afghan war. (1979-1989) Wilson had made it his life's work to get the US to do everything to defeat the Russian invasion of Afghanistan. It was going to be Russia’s Viet-Nam.

In the course of that effort Wilson was successful in getting the US to arm the Afghan rebels with the FIM Stinger Shoulder Held Missile Launchers. They were so successful in bringing down Soviet Helicopters that many military writers credit them with defeating the Russians. And boy did those very same missile launchers proliferate. We ended up selling them as if they were kitchen doilies to anybody and everybody. Around this time my friend Hugh Jones was working In India. He tells how an arms dealer offered to sell him a Stinger Missile. Hugh asked if he expected him to just take it home on the plane? Needless to add it was very profitable for Raytheon.

Okay, so here comes the, “Comes Around.” Day before yesterday we suffered our worst Day In Obama’s Afghan War. A Boeing Chinook Army Helicopter with 35 men, some of them amongst our very best were killed as it was brought down with, you of course have already guessed it a “shoulder held surface to air Stinger Missile.” Oh, I’m pretty sure nobody is going to report that our elite fighters were killed by our very own missile. God it pisses me off how stupid our Military leaders can be.This brings me to the Black hawk Sikorsky Helicopter downed in Mogadishu in 1993. That ended up as a movie, “Black Hawk Down.”

So, how did the US Army get into the Helicopter business?
At the end of WW2 the Army Air-force Generals decided they wanted their very own military unit and so the United States Air Force was born to the great disappointment and chagrin of the Army. Some time before the Army had lost its old Horse Calvary Unit. It was made famous in our Western movies. They were the great saviors of the white man in the wild west. As we watched and waited sure enough here came the “Old 7th cavalry singing to the rescue.

Somehow the Army needed their very own flying ability and so the Helicopter as part of the infantry was born. I was not able to get the exact number of Helicopters shot down since the 1950s but it has been a lot including the famous catastrophic failure to rescue our Iranian hostages. That probably cost Jimmy Carter his second term. There was that famous failure in Mogadishu in 1993. That led to the movie “Black Hawk Down. So much for the Army Helicopters in wartime. Now this latest flop in Afghanistan. Shot down by one of our very own Missile Launchers.

As I write this I am haunted by those Obama election promises to end the Afghan war. Mr. President, war is not some abstract policy. It’s peoples lives that are being spent and for what? That is the question, and for what?

Empathy Overload

Marshal McLuhan Centennial of your birth. “Go to hell”

Many Universities around the globe are celebrating his prescient theories. Back in the 60ies and 70ies he was writing about where the media was going to take us. I remember those arguments over, “the medium is the message.” Worse than that was his notion, of the “Global Village.” Yes the media was going to turn us into one all embracing society across all man made boundaries. McLuhan was one of the rare thinkers, artists who somehow are able to see the future without any clear consciousness as to how they arrived there.

Back in the sixties, seventies I thought, surely there would be an increase in the number of television sets but never could have foreseen the explosion of the Internet IPods, Mextexts Cellphones with cameras etc. etc. Indeed, in many ways the world is now a village. Here’s where I breakdown with empathy overload.

Back in my own "good old days" I might have read something about a drought in Africa or Asia.That was probably transmitted by the dot dash code of Telegraph and it was surely a week or a month old. Now it’s instant photographs taken with cellphone cameras. Here in front of me on this computer screen are thousands of starving, thirst driven Ugandan women carrying their starving babies to an already overflowing refugee camp in Kenya. Just a sample of the Global Village that is now relentless in its daily story of all the horrific droughts, fires and the monumental disasters being brought on by Global Climate Change. In the old days it was simply Colonialism.

Oh, so you think I’m finished? Not so fast. Here comes the foreclosure, unemployment crisis, collective bargaining crisis in Wisconsin, the abortion fight in Kansas, the Fukushima Nuclear meltdown. Instant pictures of those poor poor old Japanese men and women walking around in a daze, The Haiti earthquake just shows us that forever poverty. Their tent villages just waiting for the next hurricane to blow them away. And yes, my wife insists, that the Polar Bears loss of habitat is the Canary in the Global climate crisis that will do us all in.

On top of all that there’s all the left wing causes threatening me to give them money or we are looking at the “end of days.” How can I take on the Global scene when I’m struggling to hang on to the local disasters? From my empathy bank I have very little left over for the Debt Crisis. That seems so inconsequential when I look at those dyeing mothers and bloated babies in Africa.

In my lifetime I have often confronted the problem, what burning issue of the day should I spend my energy on? The old Marxist solution was to find the link in the socio economic chain that would help to fundamentally change the society. Maybe that’s how I ended up in the Labor Movement? Now my empathy scale sends me all over the place. That could be precisely because we do not have a program to make any fundamental changes in the present system of Market Capitalism.

Could that be what is sending me into an empathy overload crisis? Or is it just Mcluhan’s Global Village?

Repeal The New Deal

Destroy the Obama Presidency!

The more I try to understand what on earth the GOP is trying to do it becomes increasingly clear that they are out to destroy all the Safety Net programs built in response to the Great Depression of the 1930s. As I have indicated many times on this blog that the Tea Party -GOP Gang of 240 (members in the House) also have a very deep hatred of this President and will do absolutely anything to bring him down. That gives the hard right a chance for a double hit. This will be coming to a head very soon as the US approaches the deadline for paying its debts.

Look, in the 1930s there was a critical need to give working people a greater voice in their workplaces and break the grip of the Robber Barons. That gave us the Wagner Act. It assured the right of workers to join a union of their choice. That’s under attack in Wisconsin, Ohio, Indiana etc. Unemployment Insurance gave laid off workers a weekly stipend to help keep house and home together. Home Relief (Welfare) kept people from being pushed into the streets, (evictions) and made homeless. The Wages and Hours Act required employers to maintain 40 hour work weeks as well as paying overtime for off hours that were worked.

The absolute star in all this legislation was Social Security. Yes it is a tax that all employees pay into during their working life. That guarantees a lifetime income after retirement at age 65. It is not a government handout. The Government is simply the Policy Holder of the retirees money. Unfortunately the Government has periodically snuck into that fund to spend money on such unrelated stuff like the war in Iraq and Afghanistan. Finally there is Medicare. It was added to the Safety Net back in 1965. That was a way to help our citizens make it to retirement without suffering from all the ailments that flesh is heir to. It was a recognition that Health Care is part and parcel of a well lived life.

Okay, now all of these programs are under attack by the Gang of 240 in order to get the Country back to the “GOOD OLD DAYS OF THE ROBBER BARONS.” That was a time when big business totally dominated the economy and felt completely free to do whatever it took to increase the profit take with absolutely no Government interference. In place of the Robber Barons we have the Wall Street Derivative Crooks who just want to play dice with the lives of home buyers, credit card holders, stock purchasers etc. etc. Meet our new Robber Barons.

So the Gang of 240 lead by Mr. Boehner and MConnell meet with President Obama Mr. nice guy. He offers compromises that make my blood boil. They offer nothing, zippo, zero. Obama keeps hoping and dreaming because we are all supposed to be reasonable people.

Yupp, Mr. President that's how it was at Harvard, according to the Marquess of Queens-bury. In this Congress it’s according to the Bloods and the Crips. The President is going to be forced into a real tough stand in the next few days. Here’s what he needs to do to save the 1930s Safety Nets and keep us from defaulting into the abyss.

First and foremost he needs to talk directly with the American people about this coming economic breakdown. He needs to explain how we got here and what he is going to do to get us through it. He must make no deals that sells out all those hard won New Deal measures that we have fought for over the years. They are part of what has made our country the envy of the world. They are a sacred trust. Don’t sell us out. If you do Mr. President in the end you and us will pay a very dear price.

If the Gang of 204 and their leaders Boehner, McConnell just wont budge taking back the Bush tax breaks for the rich here’s what needs to be done. The President goes on prime time television to explain the following to the American people.

”This is your President. As you probably know I have spent the last month in an intense effort to reach an agreement on raising our debt limit. In past administrations this was an automatic congressional activity that you probably never even noticed. Suddenly in my administration the debt ceiling is being held hostage. This is a bald attempt by the GOP to dismantle the hard won gains of everything from Social Security to Medicare. I am not about to let that happen.

Under the powers granted the President by the Constitution I am declaring the Country in a State of Emergency. I am ordering the US Treasury department to increase our debt level so that the United States will not default on its debts as stated in the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. These are the powers granted to the President. I would be derelict in my responsibility as the Commander in Chief if I did not carry out my oath of office to uphold the Constitution. We will pay our debts. Good night and may God Bless America.”