Cape Karen
The Nantucket Lightship WLV-612, that once kept vessels off the shoals southeast of the island, has been completely restored into a floating home and vacation charter boat.
I guess I'm homesick - all these articles about New England. . .this is my compilation of a bunch of articles I found on this subject.
I saw the restored ship on The Travel Channel yesterday, and it is unbelievably beautiful! I'd love to charter it for a week, and I know for sure I can't afford that - but, I can afford to dream!
So, come. . .dream along with me. . .
After lying in a state of rusting, hulking disrepair for more than a decade, the vessel has been reborn. Former state Senator Bill Golden and his wife Kristen purchased the lightship on eBay, and have completed a deck-down restoration that has converted the former utilitarian workboat into 4,000 square feet of floating opulence.
Where once there were undecorated steel passageways, spartan crews' quarters and a functional mess area, there are now five staterooms that comfortably sleep 12, a grand salon with burnished wood flooring, leather furniture, a large-screen TV, and a galley kitchen with granite marble countertops. The ship even has its own chef.
Following a two-year restoration, that required a crew of 11 master craftsmen, the lightship made its way from the docks of New Bedford to its winter home at Rowe's Wharf in Boston, cruising through the Cape Cod Canal at speeds that reached 12 knots.
It all began with a piece of sushi. At a Christmas party several years ago, Kristen Golden bet a family friend he wouldn't eat a piece of raw fish. He said he would, if she agreed to live on a boat for five years. She agreed, and promptly forgot about the wager. Until a phone call. . . .
"A friend literally called us and said, "Your ship has come in," she remarked.
"The state had put the Nantucket up for auction, and he thought we should go down and take a look at it," Bill Golden said. "My wife and I both grew up on the South Shore and were familiar with lightships and their noble purpose - and what seemed like a sad end for them as scrap metal. We looked through the ship, but we weren't in the market to buy that day. I went back to the office, but all I could think of was the ship. So, I went back down as they were closing the doors, and the captain agreed to show me around. That's when I fell in love with her," he said.
"We made about 150 phone calls trying to find what you would do if you owned a lightship, where you could get it repaired, etc. About 20 minutes before the end of the 10-day auction on eBay, we began bidding, and we won the bid. We didn't even tell our families that we were doing this until we were successful."
Thus began the two-year odyssey to refit the ship.
The Golden's plan to bring it to Nantucket in the summers, where it will be offered for charter. They have already booked the vessel for several holiday parties at Rowe's Wharf. While they declined to say how much was spent on the restoration, the amount was obviously substantial. For example, Bill Golden said they replaced the vessel's aging engines with a single state-of-the-art Caterpillar power plant, "the size of my Ford Explorer and seven times as expensive."
"Let me just say that the project cost much more than we anticipated," Golden, 54, said with a laugh. "We're not at a level where we could do this and not have a commercial aspect to the project. But it's worth it to keep a piece of history alive."
Stepping aboard the renovated ship is like stepping into a British gentlemen's club. There is polished wood everywhere: mahogany, cherry, oak. Even the former steel stairways are now wrapped in oak and mahogany.
"We wanted a wooden interior inside a steel-hulled ship," said Kristen Golden, who served as the designer and general contractor on the restoration. It's all American cherry with mahogany trim on the main deck. We went for a gentlemen's library feeling."
It's just spectacular, right down to the last detail. There are tall wing-backed chairs, earth-toned colors, and a tiger-maple dining table that seats twelve. There are beadboard ceilings and mahogany beams throughout. The galley kitchen has a five-by-three foot island, a butler's pantry, a 36-inch refrigerator, a double-wide oven, a six-burner cooktop, two trash compactors, an ice machine; and the kitchen cabinet door handles are little metal replica's of Nantucket Lightship baskets.
"Living on the boat has been an amazing experience," said Kristen.
The only time you feel like you're on a boat is when you're looking out a porthole. You don't get that claustrophobic feeling like you do on some boats. We've never slept better. It feels like you're sleeping in the world's largest waterbed, no tossing or turning. My family aren't boaters, but they slept like babies; even through a nor'easter."
~ Bill Golden, is the environmental attorney who in 1990 ran for lieutenant governor and who in the 1980's led the charge to clean up Boston Harbor. ~
~ Nantucket Lightship WLV-612 was built in 1950 at a Coast Guard shipyard in Curtis Bay, Md. She served off San Francisco for 18 years, at Blunt's Reef, California and in Portland, Maine, before finally coming to Nantucket where she served as the last manned lightship in the country from 1975-1983.
It is the third-oldest ship currently in the harbor, superseded only by the USS Constitution and the USS Cassin Young, a World War II destroyer. ~
That line from the old Jackie Gleason Show came to mind when I read the following article from a few years back. It's an interesting article; (edited for brevity) maybe I'll pass it along to those who will eventually be in charge of the clean-up efforts of Lake Ponchartrain in New Orleans. It shows what can be done if people are determined and environmentally concerned enough to do it.
The Boston Harbor Cleanup by Brian Fitzgerald
Bruce Berman, poses an important question to his students:
"How clean is clean enough?" He's talking about the water in Boston Harbor. It's a brilliant July day, with the smell of salt spray in the air. The sky is clear, and so is the ocean. But there was a time when Boston Harbor wasn't so clean; when the stench of sewage assaulted the nostrils of anyone who went near it.
Berman, communications director for Save the Harbor/Save the Bay a public-interest environmental advocacy organization, pledged to help restore and protect the harbor and Massachusetts Bay. He also teaches a Metropolitan College summer course called: Politics, Public Relations, and Public Policy.
"The Boston Harbor Cleanup is an amazing success story, and I just love to share it with students," says Berman, noting that the harbor's "bad old days" weren't that long ago. In 1988, Vice President George Bush, during a campaign stop boat tour in Boston, branded it the "Harbor of Shame" seeking to embarrass MA Governor Michael Dukakis, his opponent in the presidential race, on his environmental record.
Those were the days when untreated human waste, syringes, condoms, and tampon applicators routinely washed ashore. The antiquated sewage treatment plants on Deer Island and Nut Island were so poorly designed and maintained that they flooded even during mild rainstorms, sending millions of gallons of untreated waste directly into Boston Harbor.
Since then, bacteria counts in the water have decreased by more than two-thirds. Now the harbor teems with plants and animals. Seals can be seen there, as well as porpoises, cormorants, and even humpback whales are sighted from time to time. "It was one of the filthiest harbors in America, and now it's one of the cleanest," says Berman. "It's fair to say that the Boston Harbor cleanup project was the most dramatic success story in environmental history, in terms of water quality," he proclaims.
"What I'm trying to impress upon my students is how this incredible comeback occurred; and how business, advocacy groups, environmentalists, and government can come together and affect the outcome of large projects such as the Boston Harbor Cleanup." says Berman. He points to the left, as the boat cruises by the cleanup's centerpiece: the gargantuan white egglike tanks of the Deer Island waste treatment plant which in 1995 replaced the antiquated facility. The plant treats an average of 350 million gallons of sewage a day.
"And what comes out of the Deer Island treatment plant?" asks Berman, his booming baritone competing with the roar of planes taking off from Logan Airport, as he puts his students on the spot to see if they've been paying attention, and to make sure that his lectures are truly sinking in. "The outfall pipe," say several of them simultaneously. "Treated water," chime in a few more. "That's right," he says with a smile. The plant separates the solid and liquid waste, and then pumps the treated water through the 9.5-mile outfall pipe which empties into Massachusetts Bay. The resulting sludge is converted to high-grade fertilizer.
The $4.5 billion Boston Harbor Cleanup was spurred by a lawsuit filed by Quincy City Solicitor, Bill Golden, in 1982 after he jogged through grease and sewage debris that had washed up onto Wollaston Beach. It was the first of several lawsuits aimed at forcing the Metropolitan District Commission (MDC), which ran the region's sewer system before the Massachusetts Water Resource Authority (MWRA) was created, to stop the dumping of raw sewage into the harbor.
The litigation was effective: a 1985 landmark federal court case required that the harbor's beaches be made swimmable and fishable by the year 2000. In 1986, Golden, along with the late State Superior Court Judge Paul Garrity (the "Sludge Judge,") newspaper reporter Ian Menzies, and Beth Nicholson, a young mother from Brookline, MA, founded, Save the Harbor/Save the Bay, an organization
dedicated to advancing the harbor cleanup and raising public awareness of the project.
The cleanup was a massive undertaking that naysayers said couldn't be done because of its hefty price tag. Sewer ratepayers in the forty-three MWRA cities and towns that would be financing the project cried foul over the prospect of astronomically rising bills. However, thanks to the determination of environmental advocacy groups such as Berman's organization, and judges such as Garrity and David Mazzone, senior judge of the U.S. District Court in Boston, the cleanup was largely completed on schedule.
On September 6, 2000, with hundreds of politicians, special guests, and Boston Harbor cleanup workers looking on, several gates were opened and treated wastewater flowed through the new subterranean outfall pipe at Deer Island. "In 1986, when Judge Mazzone ordered the construction of the new primary and secondary wastewater treatment plants, established a timetable for the cleanup, and gave an indication of where it would be by 2000, I knew it was going to be a reality," says Berman. "I was absolutely confident he would get this done."
"I've lived in Boston for seven years, but I had never been to the
waterfront until this class," says Trevor Kosmolsick (MET '05). "I've also wanted to go camping in the area, but I never knew that you could camp on a few of the islands. Bruce Berman is not only a great professor, but the ultimate tour guide."
Berman is also the consummate ambassador for recreation on Boston Harbor. An incurable chatterbox when it comes to the cleanup, he backs up his words with actions. Sometimes he takes off his shirt and dives in the water from his boat, The Shamrock, to demonstrate to passing boaters that it's safe to swim there now; and, to show people on ferries that fishing is safe, he's been known to grab one of the bluefish he's caught and plant a sloppy wet kiss on it.
"What I want everyone, and especially my students, to understand, is that an investment in the environment really does pay off. And there have been unexpected economic benefits, too," Berman says. He notes that a study, released in July by Save the Harbor/Save the Bay, found that during the 1990's the population of the Boston waterfront area grew at four times the rate of the entire city, the value of real estate skyrocketed, and employment was up 29 percent in nearby neighborhoods.
Not to mention how sweet it smells along the Boston waterfront these days.
Friendship: a little word with big meaning. Webster defines it as. . .
"the mutual feelings of trust and affection and the behavior that typify relationships between friends."
Blah! How dry. In my book, that definition doesn't cut it, at all!
I would define friendships as ". . . personal lifelines; others who enable one to survive and thrive, in the face of even the most horrific of life events, with grace and dignity."
Or, ". . .a warm partnership that involves trust, loyalty, the willingness to compromise and never-ending perserverance."
Or, ". . .people with whom one has mutual goals and interests; those who together enjoy fun, laughter, acceptance, honesty, unconditional love, and who will share memories for a lifetime."
And of course, there's always that favorite description that says, "A friend is one who knows all about you, and loves you anyway."
In my life, I would not have made it without my friends. They were truly, and still are, my family. I learned all I learned in life by having a friend, and by being a friend. Some of the lessons were painful, and some were sheer joy, but they all taught me what it means to be fully human.
Because I had friends, I learned what it felt like to be hugged, how it mattered to my self-esteem to receive a heartfelt compliment; that I wasn't a "mistake" or a piece of meaningless junk. When someone remembers your favorite song, or serves you your favorite food, or sends you flowers 'just because,' then, you know that you are loved.
I am not a wealthy person; never was, never will be - but I am rolling in good fortune, because I have good friends. Not a whole lot of them, but enough - and they are truly a treasure chest full of pure gold to me. 
And, even though they are far away geographically, they all remain close to my heart.
You know who you are: so thank you for being my friends; and thank you for inviting me into your lives and your hearts. It means so much more than my words can ever, ever say.
I love antiques, and so I always try to watch Antiques Roadshow on PBS, on Monday nights. A few months ago they featured a record album cover from the 1960's - an original Beatle's album cover, valued for its artwork. (I can't recall which one it was. Perhaps, "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds?")
Anyway, they said it is now valued at over $100,000.00.
You've got to be kidding! We used to have all their albums.
Lots and lots of them, as a matter of fact.
(This was their first album cover)
In 1963, my then husband-to-be, Steve, and I, bought a business; a popular record shop called, "The Record Room," that was located on West Main Street in Hyannis, from our friend Dick Craig. Steve's parent's had a fit that we were even considering doing such a thing, because we were newly married, only in our 20's and dead broke - but, youth has no fear, so we jumped at the chance.
Steve was the sort of guy that everyone liked. Handsome and personable, he endeared himself to our customer's from the start. Steve also had an uncanny ability to remember names.
Summertime increased the population of Hyannis, and many vacationer's and summer residents would return to The Record Room to shop every year. Someone who hadn't come into the store but once or twice, and perhaps not for two years, would be greeted upon their return with, "Hi George! How's Barbara, Allison and Peter doing? Peter must be in his second year at Boston College now, right?"
People would be rendered speechless that he had remembered not only their names, but the names of their children and other trivia they may have shared with him briefly. (Me, I can't remember what day it is half the time.)
Steve also seemed to know ahead of time who would be the upcoming popular recording artists. Even before the US embraced the Beatles, Steve had stocked-up on their first album from England. He also bought all of their other albums, including, I'm sure, the one that was featured on the Antiques Roadshow program as a valuable antique; now, some 42 years later. (How did that happen so fast? It seems like it was only Yesterday :)
But, where o' where could it be?
In someone's attic, or in someone's basement storage room, is an old Beatle's album cover that is now worth over $100,000.00.
Karen, if you read this, you'd better start digging! I know you've kept everything you ever had from your teenage years; I saw all your high school prom dresses, I saw all those 45 rpm records, and you even told me that you still have the clump of grass we dug up as a "keepsake" of a crush in 1956-57 (?)from Jimmy Drake's lawn. Silly us!
Good god, girl. . . you've just gotta have that album and cover, somewhere?!?
(And to think that we laughed at you for being such a 'pack rat.')
Waaaah!
In 1993, a long held personal secret, and the answer to a million prayers, delivered silently to a Higher Power, came to a long-awaited joyful resolution. That was the year when my first-born son, who I had, with great sorrow, given up for adoption in 1962, finally succeeded in his courageous and persistent quest to find me.
It happened right before Christmas that year, and I can honestly say that I have never received a more welcome surprise or a more meaningful Christmas gift.
I was born into a home rife with alcoholism; both of my parents were in a drunken stupor, or feeling and behaving angrily hung-over, all of my life. I had an older sister, Sally, ten years my senior, but she (gladly) left home at seventeen to go to college in Vermont. She eventually married and began a family of her own, and she rarely looked back to find out how her little sister was doing. (I guess she wanted to keep her past far behind her, and I was part of that past.)
So, basically, I was left alone, from the age of seven on, to deal with the daily difficulties and the many embarrassments of living with two unfit parents. No one cooked, so opening a can, or eating at a neighbor's house became my means of nutritional survival. Falls, fires and fights were as 'normal' at my house as were breakfast and dinner at most homes. And, unlike today, in those days you didn't tell anyone, anything.
"How's your mother," someone would ask - "Fine." I would reply, even though I knew she hadn't gotten out of her bed for months, or that she was in the hospital having those cirrhosis-of-the-liver induced poisons drained from her bloated body, once again.
"How's your father?” a teacher would inquire. "He's fine." I always said; yet the night before, he had spent the entire night passed-out in his Jeep. He usually ended-up lodged inside the big hedge that surrounded our house when returning home from a night of drinking at the Hyannis Yacht Club; more often than not, he missed the corner entirely when trying to turn the Jeep into our driveway.
To keep a long story short, suffice it to say that my loveless, lonely, frightening and dysfunctional (to say the least) home life was a natural breeding ground for my eventual 'fall from grace.'
In the 1950's and 60's girls were expected to remain virgins until marriage. (I know, it sounds strange today, doesn't it?) If a girl became pregnant outside of marriage, and millions of us did, she was quickly sent away, somewhere far from home, to avoid bringing shame on her family.
(I won't even comment on the irony of that statement.)
Anyway, in 1962, at the age of nineteen, after briefly dating an older boy, who was not someone I loved enough to marry, I went from being a motherless child to becoming a childless mother. (In those days we were called "unwed mothers," today we are called "birthmothers." )
If I had thought my home life was a nightmare growing up, this new event in my life became an ongoing bad dream - a burdensome secret, which I silently carried for 31 years, as I continually wondered what had happened to my baby boy. . . a child I was not even allowed to see or hold after giving birth to him. I walked around with a big hole in my heart.
The lawyer had sternly warned me, at the time I signed away my son for adoption; alone in a strange town, recovering from my first childbirth in a strange hospital, to tell no one about his birth. And, I was especially warned not to ever try to search for him.
And so I didn't.
But . . . no one had ever told him not to search for me; a finger-wagging, mean-spirited lawyer never warned him not to search for his birthparents.
Oh, yes, his adoptive parents discouraged such an attempt when he first brought up the subject, for fear he would be sorely disappointed; and they were in constant dread, when he was younger, that I would appear on their doorstep and try to snatch him away. But, eventually, they said, "Go ahead, search. . . if you must."
So, he did; for twelve years he searched. And, in spite of many legal brick walls, he finally succeeded in finding both of us; his birth-mother and his birth-father.
His adoptive parents had given him wings; and, as found birthparents, Ralph and I could finally give him roots.
At long last, he could feel psychologically complete.
Now, he knew why he had curly blonde hair and sensitive blue eyes. Now, he had his medical background to pass along to his own children; my three wonderful, and only, grandchildren - who call me their "Fairy" Grandma.
And there is so much, much more.
I have this blog page now, too; compliments of my handsome, first-born son; my 'all-grown-up' baby boy, who just turned 43.
We were able to celebrate his birthday together, for the first time ever, this August 10th. Knowing it was important to me, he was kind enough to bring his family all the way from Minnesota to the Great Smoky Mountains, just so we could do that.
(Yep - there are 43 candles burning on that cake. Nope - he didn't get 43 presents.)
Thanks, son, for finding me ~ and for making my dreams come true.
Your birthmother loves you!
The hurricane hasn't even hit the coast of TX yet, and the gas prices are going up even more.
This morning, a friend from FL reports, she was finishing her fill-up at the pump, when a fellow came along carrying a bunch of red plastic bags. He was going to put them over all the pumps, so it would look as if they were empty. When she told him that there was still gas left in the pump she had just used, he said to her, with a sneer, "We're in a crisis, Honey."
In other words - we'd rather pretend we are out of gas until we have time to put up our new inflated prices, than to let anyone pump gas at a 'mere' $2.95 a gallon (for regular) any longer.
And, that's just at one Mobile station in No. Palm Beach, FL. How many other gas stations are doing the same exact thing? I can only imagine what will be going on next week all over the country. The rich profiteer's will be dancin' in the streets, while everyday people struggle to decide whether they should buy their families food or buy a tank of gasoline at $4.50 a gallon.
And, of course, then we're going to have those nay-sayers who'll remind us that things like Kool Aid, ice cream, ketchup, etc., are more expensive ~ by the gallon ~ than gasoline.
Well, go ahead then, I dare you ~ just try putting that stuff in your gas tank!
Stealing a headline from MSNBC today, I am compelled to comment on my view of where hurricane Rita is heading. It seems to me that it is aiming straight at Louisiana again. The track has shifted to the northeast quite a bit from last night; at least in the satellite images I am looking at right now, it has. The western edge is going to get hit for sure.
Is it a sin to say, "I hope so?"
And, why (wash out my mouth with soap!) would I even say such a terrible thing? Because the place is already devastated, it's just about empty of people - other than the stubborn hold-outs who refused to leave - and let's face it, perhaps that is the only way our leaders will admit that rebuilding there is just plain insanity! The next Gulf hurricane could well be another direct hit on New Orleans.
Also, while listening to President Bush speak a minute ago, I was once again stunned at his inability to deliver clear and precise answers to spontanious questions from the press. If I didn't know better, I would swear he suffers from a serious stutter, or at the very least, a speech impediment.
And, if that weren't bad enough, he also sounded mentally disheveled and he was embarassingly ill-informed. They shouldn't allow him to speak at all; not without a pre-written speech in front of his face. (Even Vice-President Cheney looked somewhat embarrassed, as he subtley urged him to get the hell away from the microphone.)
It's times like this when I miss Bill Clinton. Well, to be honest. . . I miss him all the time. I really enjoy listening to him, whenever he speaks, and I felt much more secure under his leadership. In spite of his personal problems, I think he was a great President.
This Bush guy - he's just not cutting the mustard in any way, shape or form. He scares the living be-jeezes outta me - even more so than hurricane Rita!
![imag[1].jpg](http://cpkaren.albatross.org/archives/imag[1].jpg)
Say hello to Derrick from Louisville, KY. Derrick thought he'd take advantage of the recent tragedy and cash-in. He received a new ID, money, and free room and board from the Red Cross by posing as a Katrina victim. He took the money, stayed in a nice hotel for a week, and then was caught before he could return with his new ID and get more "assistance." Derrick represents the worst in human nature, and unfortunately, he is but one of thousands around the country right now, who are doing the same thing.
Cripes, I could use some extra money; couldn't we all? What makes Derrick different than you and me?
Guts, desperation, lack of a conscience, drug addiction or just plain greed? The Red Cross caught him, but how many are getting away with it? Perhaps that was your donation that he stole - or mine. Regardless, for every one that scams the Red Cross, it takes away from hundreds who truly need their help.
It has been reported by a FL newspaper that the Red Cross gives out millions of dollars to scammer's after every disaster. And, this disaster is breeding dishonesty because, where people lost all their identification papers, the Derrick's are harder to catch. I am glad they caught Derrick Clayton and arrested him for fraud, and I hope they will catch many others who are, right this minute, doing the same deplorable thing.
This lack of integrity and honesty crosses all social, racial and economic boundaries. It is much too prevalent in today's society. From corporate CEO's stealing millions, to folks like Derrick stealing thousands, our country seems to have become morally bankrupt. And, it is hurting good humanitarian agencies like the Red Cross because we hesitate to give, wondering where our donation will really end up.
I'm off to the dentist now, where I have to come up with about $2,500.00 for some long overdue, necessary, dental work.
Perhaps I should stop by the local Red Cross office first?
Uh-oh - another big storm is brewing in the Gulf of Mexico. Looks like Rita's heading towards Texas, with a little whip-lash effect heading towards western Louisiana.
It just passed through Key West as I write this, 
and the Conchs were lucky - they escaped a direct hit this time.
And, it's a good thing that Mayor Nagin finally came to his senses and stopped the premature effort to have everyone "come home" to New Orleans. How stupid was that!? That area is so obviously a long ways from being ready to welcome 200,000+ people; there's no clean drinking water, no sewage treatment, no medical services, etc.
What was he thinking? And, now he's busy giving out, "I Love N.O." T-shirts? O' my good god. ..give me a break!
Now, Rita has formed a definate eye and it is already up to a category two hurricane today. Why am I not surprised? It is obvious, from all I've read, that we are in for more ultra big storms along our coastlines over the next few years. What does surprise me is that anyone would be surprised; especially in light of what we know about our ongoing climate changes. Or do we?
That subject is being kept so hush-hush; it's as if we're not supposed to know. They have mentioned it on the news, in light of Katrina, and MSNBC even took a poll today - 70% believe global warming is having an effect, 30% do not. (It should be 100%, I believe.)
I hope in the months to come, instead of just forgetting all about it when the hurricane season is over, that those in the 30% will take time to educate themselves about the trickle-down effect of global warming, worldwide. It would be a good idea for all of us to start reading what the scientific community is saying about the climate changes that are taking place - many of which are occurring for the first time ever - (at least in our lifetime.)
I was relieved to hear that former President Clinton will be including the topic of climate change in his new worldwide endeavor. At least someone, somewhere, will be seriously talking about it, and will be brainstorming ideas about how we might attempt to counteract some of its effects.
We know that, for the most part, the current administration thinks it's all just a bunch of foolish over-reactionism. But, now that hurricane Rita is aiming for the state of Texas, maybe its most famous resident will start to listen to what the scientists have been trying to tell him for years.
And, if anyone thinks that the weather has been a bit weird lately. . .those strangely warm winters in Minnesota; and wintertime dumping tons of snow on usually mild-weathered Cape Cod; get ready ~ it's only just begun....
From the NCAR: "The only region that is experiencing more hurricanes and tropical cyclones overall is the North Atlantic, where they have become more numerous and longer-lasting, especially since 1995.
The North Atlantic has averaged eight to nine hurricanes per year in the last decade, compared to six to seven per year before the increase.
Category 4 and 5 hurricanes in the North Atlantic have increased at an even faster clip: from 16 in the period of 1975-89 to 25 in the period of 1990-2004, a rise of 56%."
In 2005 - we have seen 18 storms in the North Atlantic ocean, two have reached category 5 strength. We're already up to the letter R - and the season isn't over yet.
I think I will write to my friends, Cynthia and Ken in Nantucket, and tell them they might want to think about selling that nice boat they are now living on. . . before next August.
Now, it has begun. The great "recovery" effort is being discussed on Capitol Hill. O' joy!
First, because our mule-headed leader won't even consider taking away the tax breaks he promised to the millionaire's and billionaire's in our country, (after all, they are his friends) he will, instead, cut more benefits to the needy. He will also keep trying to re-form social security, so that the elderly and the disabled can suffer more personal hardships.
And secondly, all those millionaire's and billionaire's from the private sector, they won't be stepping up to the plate and saying, "No, no, . . . that's alright, we don't need more tax breaks; the country needs the money more than we do these days, Mr. President." Nooooo! They want their tax shelters to expand, so they can continue indulging in their greedy passion of gathering more "stuff" to have around them.
God forbid that the head of Exxon/Mobile can't buy five more corporate jets, or that the CEO of Shell Oil can't indulge his desire to purchase a new fleet of luxury yachts. 
And, let's not forget our Congressmen and women ~ they are all waiting for their next $400,000 yearly pay raise. (Poor babies, they do need to keep up with the cost of living, after all.) And trust me, the cost of living is going to soar like we've never seen before. Brace yourself now, and start rolling up all those coins you've been stashing everywhere; and, please, don't quit that second job! Some of the price increases are going to be due to the long list of 'residual effects' that involve the damaged oil rigs off the Louisiana coast and the slow-down of shipping along the Mississippi River. Everything from coffee to plastics; grains to automobile parts, come to us through that vulnerable shipping lane.
Oh, but what the hey! Let's just pretend it isn't happening.
Let's play a game called, "Beat Around the Bush."
It's easy!
To win the game, you have to be the last one to know what people are saying, feeling, or are concerned about in this country; and you must be the very last one to know when a disaster is occurring.
Here's how to play:
First, you put your hands over your eyes.
Second, you stop listening to and reading all news reports.
Third, if the American citizens, who happen to pay your salary, become too loud to ignore, just refuse them any funding that would prevent future potential disasters.
Fourth, being a good 'born-again Christian,' pray that bad things won't happen on your watch.
Fifth, when bad things do happen on your watch~ just stay on vacation, put your head under the pillow, put your hands over your ears, close your eyes real, real tight and don't say a word; just depend on your speech writer's to put together a pretty speech for you that you can read to the nation... later.
You win!
I am fascinated by subjects that most people find just plain silly. You know, things like UFO'S, Crop Circles and Cattle Mutilations; Bigfoot and Nessie, etc.
I suppose it's because I've always loved a good mystery, and these "unsolved mysteries" really intrigue my inquisitive mind.
I'll admit it, I really want to know what all those things are that people from every walk of life, including astronauts and pilots, are reporting to have seen hovering and jumping around in the skies, all around the world!
Is everyone on drugs and hallucinating, or what?
And I also want to know why all those crop circles are forming in fields all over the United Kingdom, etc. (No, they cannot all be made by two old coots and their little, handmade, wooden thing-a-ma-bobs.)
Just what are those crop circles trying to tell us? Do we have an underground 'cosmic artist' who can draw beautiful and intricate mandala patterns in wheat fields? Some say it's just electrical impulses under the ground creating random works of art.
(Pleeease! I don't see anything 'random' about them... do you?)
Nope. I think something ~ really strange ~ is going on...
...AND I WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT IS?!
Let's say it's true that other life forms, call them "aliens" if you must, have penetrated space and have somehow reached our planet. Are they are just whizzing around 'up there,' watching all the stupid things we're doing to destroy our Planet Earth?
Maybe they are inter-galatic 'protective beings' trying to forewarn us; or could they be... potential UFT's - Unidentified Flying Terrorists?!
And, why haven't I ever seen one?
Lots and lots of other people have seen them, in every state in the US, and in every damn country in the world.
What am I? Too old to see one - too stupid to see one - too blind to see one? What's up with that?
I WANNA SEE ONE, TOO! (But. . . from real far away please.)
And, if I ever do, you'll be the first to know!
Okay, okay, so we listened to President Bush read a beautifully written speech. . .and ya gotta love that well-lit background for the photo op.
He actually only stumbled over someone else's words a couple of times. I'll give him a 'B' for reading from a script pretty well, and for not smirking even once. He did attempt a weak smile now and then, (as seen above) and a couple of times his eyes quickly darted to the side, in what seemed like a moment of confusion, but overall it was a pretty speech about his lofty and unrealistic recovery plans for an ugly mistake.
Then came the hurriedly staged interview with some 'po folks sitting in lawn chairs outside the TX depository. . .or whatever they are calling it?
Oh, dear god. Those folks didn't have a clue. I'm sorry, but to me, it felt embarrassing listening to their naive and sadly uneducated responses to the pretty speech. Only one brave gal dared to speak up and say there should have been a better response before the storm hit, by her state officials...all those many buses sitting underwater... and all. I'm glad they feel better now, having heard their President make a bunch of empty promises, but I fear they may be sorely disappointed in the months to come.
I went on and I listened to Ted Koppel on Nightline, and then watched a repeat of the 9-11 Commission Report. Combining this recent event with that past event showed me one thing, and one thing only: if something can go wrong under this administration, it will go wrong.
The amazing, shocking, multitude of errors, before 9-11 and up to our present day, if put into an outline form, would be enough to impeach this President for gross incompetance as a leader. That is, if we had any energy or spunk left - but, we don't. We will just continue on with our 'lame duck' President, until the bitter end.
It's true. . . President Clinton goofed, too; by not bombing Afganistan when we had the chance to take out Bin Laden. But the reason he didn't do it was because his term was ending, and the Monica story had plummeted his credibility down to zero. No one believed a word he said about it, even though what he said at the time was true. They just thought he was "wagging the dog" to get our attention diverted away from his sexual addiction problem.
And that was just another of many big mistakes, that have been made at every turn, in every sector of our government, over the past seven years or so, ad nauseum.
(If you haven't yet read the 9-11 Commission Report, please, please - do so now. It's written like a novel, so it's very easy to read; and it is shockingly honest.)
You can bet that Bin Laden, and every terrorist from here to Kingdom Come, has read and re-read every single word.
They know all our weak spots. . . way, way better than we do!
And so, the beat goes on . . .
The powers that be, from government officials and government contractors, to what Chris Matthews (Hardball, MSNBC) calls the "movers and shakers" from the local business communities in New Orleans, are putting their heads and pocketbooks together, and will begin the laborious, trillions-of-tax-payer-dollars, task of rebuilding the devastated N.O. Gulf Basin area.
(Gee- that says it, doesn't it? No Gulf Basin.)
Of course they will start by rebuilding the money-producing French Quarter business district because, they say, it will bring in all that fabulous tourist money. They are even planning to celebrate and have Mardi Gras there this coming year!
O' boy! I wanna go, I wanna go!
(Oh, shucks, I can't go . . . I'm allergic to mold.)
The thousands of locals, as we've seen, were mostly below poverty-level black families. They have been left without even a humble shanty-town to live in, and they will be pushed far, far away from the media spotlight. . . unless we bring them back.
Without our attentiveness and concern, those po' folks will still be living in some far-away-from-home location, still sleeping on hard canvas cots, still eating crappy meals out of aluminum-foil plates, and still using plastic utensils.
Instead of being given the jobs they want and need, and recruited to help rebuild their own communities, they will be left adrift on a sea of bureaucracy to continue living like nomads; unless, that is, we ordinary folks start screaming and yelling on their behalf, "HELP! HELP!" like they did at the Civic Center.
But, maybe, just maybe, our cries won't also fall on the deaf ears of those with clay feet.
You can bet your bottom dollar that all the best-paying available jobs will go right into the political good-old-boy network for disbursement, if we all remain silent and just allow it to happen.
In 1933, then President Franklin D. Roosevelt, created the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) to employ nearly 3 million unemployed Americans who needed both work and an income. In just 37 days, President Roosevelt was able to make the idea of a CCC a reality. He did this by mobilizing a civilian peacetime army to address our nation's needs at the time of the Great Depression.
Can you picture the Bush-whacker doing that, today? Ironically, he is much too wrapped-up in his storm-ravaged public image and his falling poll ratings, and way too busy staging photo-ops, to even consider taking the time to create such a humanitarian-based movement. In the months ahead, as billions of our US tax dollars flood the Big Easy, earmarked for rebuilding, President Bush will be loudly rallying the cause and pronouncing over and over again: "We shall prevail!"
Meanwhile, the former life-long residents of New Orleans, who are the very essence of New Orleans, could end up being all but forgotten as the political merry-go-round spins and whirls around and around, over their heads. 
Then, picture this: one or two years into the rebuilding process, with all the Big Pockets full to overflowing and heavily lined with graft and corruption - suddenly the Gulf area gets hit once again with another massive hurricane. (Global warming isn't going to just go away.)
That's right; a 2007 hurricane, named "George," comes along and completely destroys everything that has been rebuilt. And the flooding could be much, much worse; not only because the ground will still be water-logged, but also because in 2007, the five-billion-trillion-gazillion dollar levee system, still under government-sponsored construction, won't even be half-way finished.
So, why are they are even thinking of rebuilding inside that Soup Bowl?
Maybe we all need to go get some of the sand that's lying around in the Sahara Desert and ship it on down there, pronto. If we all donated 10 bags of sand, perhaps they could raise the Big Easy up to sea level, and then start rebuilding.
But this claim of rebuilding New Orleans where it sits today, under the ocean, has to be the most insane thing I've ever heard of. . .
. . .other than the Aruban officials letting Van Der Snot go free.
Last week, I thought it might be a good idea to try to raise some money for those who are walking around in the murky-mucky waters, trying to rescue abandoned pets in the stricken areas of Louisiana.
When I saw in the news that the Louisiana state bird is the eastern brown pelican, I realized that I had a pattern called, "Pelican Pete" in my 2001 rug hooking design catalog.
Delightfully, I realized that I had something I could use to raise funds for animal rescuers. I promptly put a notice on my rug hooking website and I also put it up for auction on ebay. 
Not only would those who purchased "Pelican Pete" be giving a 100% donation to the animal rescue organization of their choice, but they could also hook the design and perhaps even give it as a gift to someone displaced from their Louisiana home.
I did explain, on both sites, that this design was to be sold/auctioned to raise money for the Louisiana SPCA, or for any "pet rescue" organization they chose.
Well, it's been three days now, and I've not had a single nibble at my website; nor even one small bid at ebay. Geeez! I am so bummed. . . I thought it was a great idea!
Then, earlier today, a rug hooker wrote to me and said:
"Karen, that is soooooo nice of you to care about the pelicans!"
Sigh. . . .
The re-creation of what probably occurred during Flight 93, as seen on the Discovery channel last night, was a compelling look into what must have been a 'beyond terrifying' experience.
The most interesting fact that emerged for me - as stated by the wife of one passenger - was that the passengers who attacked the terrorists in the cockpit did not necessarily do so as a heroic attempt to prevent the suicide bombers from crashing another plane into a another building.
The fact that the plane crashed, and that they were unable to gain control of it as they hoped they could, has been marketed by the media as their attempt to prevent the Capitol Building or White House from being struck.
Yes, thankfully, that was a result of their amazing courage; and they did save countless lives by not allowing the plane to reach Washington. But it was probably not their main intent.
I think they hoped to grab the controls and land the plane safely. It is said that one of the passengers was a pilot.
Here is a photo of a memorial rock that has been placed at the crash site. 
A more extensive Flight 93 Memorial has yet to be created, but donations are being sought now. Google "Flight 93 Memorial" if you'd like to know how you can contribute.
They were courageous heroes; but I believe they wanted to see their loved ones again, tuck their children into bed at night, and continue to live and contribute to society.
Ordinary people... who made an extraordinary attempt to survive.
Roll on!
Last night I watched a 'sort-of documentary' about the first 5 years of the ever-popular Saturday Night Live television show. Because the late Howard Cosell used the name "Saturday Night Live" for his sports broadcast show in those days, it was then called, "Live! It's Saturday Night!" Among the discussion about the creation of the show, they also showed some clips from those early years. I wish they had shown more clips and done less talking.
Those were my years! (Just as Elvis and the Beatles came from "my" years.) It was wonderful to revisit those hilarious LSN antics again. It felt good to have something to belly-laugh at, especially during this time and place in our history.
Steve Martin, the late, great Gilda Radner, Jane Curtain, Chevy Chase; Dan Ackroyd and John Belushi: 'The Blues Brothers,' were all featured, as were others whose names I have forgotten. They even showed the skit where Paul Simon sang, "Still Crazy," wearing a huge, ridiculous turkey outfit, and an old Ray Charles clip of him banging on those piano keys and singing, "I Can See Clearly Now." (Just to name a few of the funny, memorable moments!)
O' how I loved those old shows. They have never been able to replicate the craziness, and the "lunatic" street humor of those first few years. Those were truly, fall-down-on-the-floor-laughing and wet-your-pants, shows! Those of us who were experiencing the 60's, as the show aired, really 'got it.'
There were lots of 'live on television' references to pot smoking, drugs and cocaine - and you knew when some of them were stoned! (Sadly, an overdose of drugs was what eventually killed John Belushi.)
Yep! Those were the good old days; of student protests in the streets against the Vietnam War, and the loud cries to impeach Richard Nixon over the Watergate scandal.
Today, we just seem to sit in stunned silence and watch a much more dangerous character on television - you know his name, it rhymes with 'tush.'
Maybe we should organize a new 2005 protest movement and call it:
"Why All the Water? Where was the Gate?"
Isn't hindsight wonderful? We learn so much when we look back. It's too bad we don't come equipped with a built-in rear view mirror we could all look into whenever we need to avoid making past mistakes.
Sadly, all we seem to have these days is hindsight; the ability to learn after-the-fact.
That doesn't mean we do learn from past behaviors or mistakes - it just means we could, if we really wanted to. We are seeing that potential ability displayed now. What will we learn after the facts are all in? Truth or consequences?
Speaking of consequences, they fired Michael Brown from FEMA yesterday. Oh, but not really - they have now just put him in another government position where he can continue to display his lack of experience and incompetence. Makes sense to me! I think it's called in these parts, the 'good old boy' network.
Katrina has spoken and the winds of change are whirling around us. Will there be an improvement over what we have just seen? Or will our bureaucrats just continue to display their inability to do anything right the first time?
Give those 'good old boys' a big rear-view mirror, 
but be sure to tell them that objects viewed in the mirror may appear to be closer than they are; otherwise, they may over-react the next time there is a crisis and do something equally incompetent.
It sure helps me to sleep at night, knowing we are all in such good hands.
Everyone is looking for someone to blame. This most recent disaster is stirring many troubled waters.
Of course, we can't really blame anyone for a category 4-5 hurricane - unless we dare to look at global warming - but we do have to look back at all the attempts that were made over the last few years by LA senators and others who expressed to the legislature their deep concern about the aging, insufficient levee system in New Orleans.
All the legislation they presented, most of which were appeals for funding to improve the Lake Ponchartrain levee system, was pushed aside, ignored or denied, due to "lack of funds," by our government. They just didn't feel it was all that important. (Seems it is important, however, to spend billions and billions of US taxpayer dollars in Iraq to rebuild their US bombed-out country. But, that's a whole 'nother subject.)
If we look back even further, we have to question the human-enhanced erosion of the wetlands that once formed a natural barrier of protection against the devastation that we are seeing in that area today.
The rapid shrinking of our wetlands, throughout the United States, is a sad commentary on our priorities. As a popular song once put it, "...we've paved paradise to put up a parking lot." Hotels and other tourist attractions now sit all along our coastlines, where invaluable wetland eco-systems once thrived.
I've seen this happen on my native Cape Cod soil as well. I can recall driving to work along Route 28 in 1979, and watching, dumbfounded, as bulldozers scooped-out and leveled the beautiful wetlands in order to put in a parking lot for a crappy, tourist T-shirt shop - a shop that has long since gone out of business.
But, to get to my main point here: Last night, while flipping through the channels to get away from pictures of the devastation, I stopped short at C-Span because an attractive blonde woman was making an impassioned plea to our president that sounded very compelling!
That woman, it turned out, was Louisiana Senator, Mary Landrieu.
Not only were her appeals for honest answers succinct and compelling, but she also 'threw in' one statement that made me laugh out loud. She stated that, for a few years now, we have heard the clay figurine from Saturday Night Live called, "Mr. Bill" making public service announcements about lowland erosion and the need to repair the levee system in New Orleans.
She said, "How is it that a clay character called Mr. Bill is more informed than a man called Mr. Bush?" (Unlike me, no one laughed.)
Another statement she made was not humorous, but it was 'right on.'
I paraphrase: "The staggering financial effects that will result from this disaster will pale in comparison to the gross incompetence that has already been evidenced by our goverment."
I applaud Senator Landrieu's courage and passion as she stood alone, facing her peers, and pleaded her cause. It took tremendous courage, and an obvious great love for her communities, for her to speak out so boldly and forthrightly to our president.
If you would like to "meet" this courageous woman and read more about her efforts, you can go to her website at:
http://www.marylandrieu.com/
![imag[4].jpg](http://cpkaren.albatross.org/archives/imag[4].jpg)
Have you noticed the color of the water being pumped-out of New Orleans into Lake Ponchartrain, which then flows into the Mississippi River?
That's gonna be one ugly polluted lake... and, poor Old Man River!
I don't think I'll be eating any shrimp real soon, that's for sure. And, not because the LA and MS shrimp boats are all in splinters, but because this toxic sludge has to eventually affect some of the sea life.
We all know they are pumping out fecal matter, oil spills, gasoline, decaying human remains, e-coli bacteria and thousands of other organisms ~ including those that cause chloera.
But why are they doing this? One big rainstorm and the area will be re-flooded. One more hurricane and they'll be right back where they started. It reminds me of the story of Peter putting his finger into the dike. And, not a peep out of the EPA about this "solution" either. (I guess Bush warned them to keep their mouths shut again.)
Perhaps, before they pumped all the toxic sludge out into a major national waterway, they should have dropped billions of tons of bleach into it. I mean, for gawd's sake, this crap is eating automobiles before our very eyes. I can only imagine what it will do to the fish, shrimp, and other wildlife.
First, we don't think before we act, and then we don't act, and then we act without using any common sense at all. We're either too slow or too fast. This remedy to the flooding is showing me that the powers that be in this country are just beyond stupid.
It doesn't take an Einstein to know that this is just the beginning of more ecological destruction.
Stay tuned.
I'm getting more and more frustrated watching the ongoing reports of devastation in the southern states. It is just sickening! Why would anyone (Oprah) insist on going into the coliseum to view the dead bodies and smell the gross filth left behind?
What redeeming value was there in doing that, Oprah? To burn into our minds freakish images we can have additional nightmares about? Give me a break! Makes for 'good televison,' I guess? And, isn't that a tragic statement about our culture?!
Speaking of television, I am also really sick of all the ads from drug companies for their prescription drugs that assault our minds, and the minds of our children, every ten minutes.
Last night, during dinner, I saw six ads in a row while trying to watch the nightly news; from itchy hemorrhoid remedies, with people squirming in their seats, to a product for curing a putrid toenail fungus featuring, "Digger the Hermatophyte." I quickly lost my appetite.
And, I really don't want to know about the drug's side effects, like diaherra and constipation either. (I can hear the song in my head and see those idiots butt-dancing now.) And all those ads about too long-lasting, 4-hour erections (such a problem!?) and the dangers of acid reflux, etc., just make me cringe.
In my day - a few decades past, alcohol and cigarettes were advertised constantly on televison and in magazines- and look where that got us. Children today, those who do watch television without parental restrictions, are getting the continual message: "Pop our pill and all will be well." (Scary to think what their futures hold.)
Thank goodness for my remote and its "mute" button. Thank goodness for the PBS station. And, most of all, thank goodness for my new DVD player from my son and daughter-in-law!
I'm going blind from playing 'catch-up' watching all the movies I missed in the theaters.
But ~ there are no commercials!
So far, so good - the new storms are staying away from our vulnerable coastlines. With the hurricane season still in effect, I shudder to think of what could happen if we were hit again right now with a category 4 or 5 storm. We will be hit again, but hopefully, not like we have just seen along the lower south.
I've been doing a lot of Googling on the subject of global warming, and have learned a great deal. The only reports negating the subject come from "business news" sources. (Of course!) The scientific communities all agree that we are seeing increasingly warm oceans and rapidly melting glacial areas, esp. in the western Antartic.
Since our president told the EPA to take all reports of global warming's negative effects off of their website, we sure won't see any truth from that sector of our government. (The truth - from our government - what a joke. And, how sad is that?!)
It is the little things I see during the rescue efforts that bother me the most. The simplest things.
For instance; yesterday, they showed a rescue helicopter sending down a rescuer to find a man trapped inside a huge grocery store. The helicopter hovered above the building as the rescuer dangled from the cable, seeking a way into the closed building.
He crawled around on the roof a bit, he swung over various parts of the building with its boarded-up windows and closed doors. Finally, he was lowered to the point where he could knock on the double-steel back door. No response.
My thoughts as I watched? Why didn't he have a bullhorn to call out to the man inside and let him know they were there, trying to reach him? A simple bullhorn could have easily announced their arrival. Actually, bullhorns could be very useful in trying to communicate with other people still trapped somewhere in their homes, if only they would use them.
Have we become so dependant on wireless phones, cell phones and computers that 'go down' in such circumstances, that the "old-fashioned" methods have been forgotten? I have four oil lamps, five bottles of lamp oil and lots of batteries for my portable radio and my flashlights.
I think I'll hang on to them. More storms are coming.
As the rest of the world (with the exception of the three ravaged southern states) enjoys a vacation and/or cooks out on this Labor Day weekend, we are staying home, doing nothing fun or exciting. It's just another traffic-jammed weekend in good ol' Pigeon Forge. The Parkway (our main road leading out) is now bumper-to-bumper traffic with vacationer's heading home. It looks like the evacuation. And, in a way, it is!
This begins a quieter time of year in an area where 15 million people every year come to enjoy the mountains. I'm looking forward to being able to get to Kroger's to food shop in the normal 15 minutes, instead of it taking me 45 minutes through traffic-clogged roads; and to just take some time to enjoy riding around this pretty area, as a resident.
Oh, we will still have those up-coming busy weekends to contend with, and the huge crowds at the old-car shows that come to town every fall. Our busiest season, surprisingly, is made up of the pre-Christmas crowds. But, at least for a little while, we will be able to move around here more easily.
With the gas prices going through the roof, I am guessing it might be our quietest year yet. When it costs $60.00+ per gas tank, and more to fill up those SUV's and campers, I'm guessing that many will choose to stay closer to home.
I'm hoping it will slow people down a bit on our highways. Speed uses up more gas. In the 70 mph areas, if you do go 70 mph, you feel like you are standing still. Everyone is in such a big hurry today. There are increasing numbers of cars all zooming past each other in a frantic attempt to beat the next guy and get somewhere faster. Why? It's becoming really insane!
We all have stories of the car that we saw weaving in and out of traffic, going around 90 mph, and not a fire in sight. And, there never seems to be any cruisers around at those times either. (If I were doing it, there would be a cruiser on my tail for sure!)
Perhaps this crisis, in spite of its horrific aspects, will have some redeeming qualities - not the least of which might be our goverment learning from their slow-response mistakes in time for the next unexpected event. Maybe, it will even slow us all down long enough to think things through.
When we wanted speed, we couldn't find it - and when we want to slow down on the highways, we feel like fools.
What a strange world!
Someday, I will get around to discussing the watermelons we grew and the nice weather we are having and other more mundane topics, but, for today, my mind is still in the deep south and thinking about cause and effect. I believe that we are all pretty much in the dark about what is going on in our stratosphere and what is causing storms to get stronger and devastation to get wider than we have ever seen before.
Here is a small quote from a Pulitzer-prize-winning journalist and author who shared his concerns about global warming in a discussion on a radio show in Boston this week:
ROSS GELBSPAN: "Unfortunately, it has to be political action. It's not lifestyle action. Even if we all sat in the dark and rode bicycles, it would not stop global warming, especially given the reliance on coal in India and China and on oil in Mexico and Nigeria and the developing countries.
We need to take the lead in spearheading a rapid transition to clean energy. That will happen only through political pressure. . . ."
To read the transcript you can go to Google and type in "global warming" and read the article called "Katrina's Real Name is Global Warming" in the Democracy News. Then, read, read, and read some more.
We need to get outraged, and act! Apathy and ignorance are showing their effects all too clearly right now.
Perhaps, sending money will help - perhaps, sending prayers will help, but educating ourselves about 'cause and effect' and then sending letters to our state and federal government leaders could prove to be be more powerful than either money or prayers, at this crucial moment in our nation's history.
We all need especially to revolt against our president's stubborn lack of action in the matter of global warming in this country - and we need our voices to be heard, quickly!
More storms are coming. More devastations will fill our television screens, and, more people than you can even imagine, will die otherwise.
Ignoring our wise scientist's forewarnings is nothing short of evil, and as someone once wrote:
"All it takes for evil to succeed is for good people to do nothing."
This has been a long week. Probably the longest week I've ever experienced ~ along with our millions of sisters and brothers awaiting rescue in the deep south. As I have watched and listened to their cries, my heart and mind have been churning with a variety of emotions. From shock, to sorrow, to anger, to disgust, to frustration, and then back to more sorrow.
It's so easy to play the blame game - so easy to say what could or should have been done or not done. Sitting in my warm, comfortable home, I can't comprehend this situation, in full.
Who wants to watch helplessly as so many suffer? Our donation to the Red Cross hasn't eased my mind. It may have helped my conscience, but it hasn't eased my mind one bit.
The fact that gun-toting looters and a minority of desperate thugs disrupted what was already a tragic event was, in my mind, a small ripple in the grand scheme of this catastrophe. In other times, without the devastation surrounding them, it would have been a big deal. But, in light of more pressing matters, like seeing dead bodies sitting in wheelchairs, and babies dying in their mother's arms, it became but a ripple of angry disgust to me.
This event has shown us all how vulnerable we really are. It has been a shocking, loud, 'wake-up call' to our government and to every citizen of the USA. The United States is the only G8 country that has not ratified the Kyoto Protocol on climate change. Bush has said the protocol, which aims to slash greenhouse gas emissions, would severely damage the U.S. economy.
Global warming was a factor in this event. I believe that we all need to press our government to address that reality. Katrina's strength and unprecedented destruction, to one of the most vulnerable spots of geography in our country, should not have been such a surprise. We could have been better prepared for it.
I hope we are all awake now.
Well, another hot, sweltering day has passed, 5 days now, and more lives have been lost. Not from gunshots or from the receding flood waters, but from shameful and insufficient rescue efforts. Just aero-hours away from the White House, thousands of the stranded people are screaming for help and begging for basic food and water; still, all to no avail. The Civic Center in New Orleans is being ignored.
Where is the leadership in this country? Our president goes on meaningless "tours" of the site and then has the cocky audacity to smile into the television cameras and proclaim: "We shall prevail."
From the NY Times come these words. (I couldn't have said it better.)
"George W. Bush gave one of the worst speeches of his life yesterday, especially given the level of national distress and the need for words of consolation and wisdom.
In what seems to be a ritual in this administration, the president appeared a day later than he was needed. He then read an address of a quality more appropriate for an Arbor Day celebration: a long laundry list of pounds of ice, generators and blankets delivered to the stricken Gulf Coast.
He advised the public that anybody who wanted to help should send cash, grinned, and promised that everything would work out in the end.
It would be some comfort to think that, as Mr. Bush cheerily announced, America "will be a stronger place" for enduring this crisis. Complacency will no longer suffice, especially if experts are right in warning that global warming may increase the intensity of future hurricanes.
But since this administration won't acknowledge that global warming even exists, the chances of good leadership seem minimal."
We're in trouble.
They are still waiting. Surrounded by filth and the dead bodies of their neighbors and friends floating in the water, sweltering in the hot sun and terrified in the dark nights; waterless, foodless, they wait. Where are the ships? Where are the planes? Where is the Homeland Security relief effort?
The scariest thing about watching thousands of our fellow Americans waiting for emergency help, is that it is showing us all how very unprepared our government is to quickly respond to a disaster. Not a pretty thought in this age of mega-storms and terrorist attacks.
What is the problem? Could it be that the men in suits are spending so much time discussing what to do, and planning for the rescue, that they are wasting time that could better be spent just doing it?
I can't help but recall President Bush, sitting in a classroom with the children after the twin towers were attacked, and just continuing to read the book after he was told. He didn't want to panick anyone.
His rhetoric of "...all will be fine, we will succeed, blah, blah, blah" is making me nauseous. We won't be fine and there will be no success in these devastated areas. They weren't going to "succeed" before Katrina, and now they are becoming more and more desperate as our Commander in Chief "tours" the ravaged areas in his $500 suit and tie.
For gawd's sake DO SOMETHING!