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.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
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
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
Saturday, December 17, 2011
"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.
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.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
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.
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.
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