If ever there was an example of the weakness, greed, corruption, and just plain stupidity in our government, the lengthly debate over health care reform was certainly it. I say "was" because the Senate finally, finally, came to agreement (at least the Democratic majority) to pass a bill, but of course this will now go to the next step, which is getting both the House and Senate to agree on the final terms.
The fact that nobody is pleased with the result is, unfortunately, to be expected with the bunch of selfish crooks we have running our country. But, and this is the most important part, is that, in the words of Diane Feinstein, healthcare has gone from a privilege to a right. That's huge. Huge.
That one idea, now accepted and soon to be signed into law, will change how our children will live, and their children, and all the children for the rest of American history. Thank God.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Merry Christmas. Now What?
So another year grinds to a close. Thank God. This hasn't been a good year for Redlands or our country, but we're still here, keeping on.
Let's see what happened this year around Redlands.
Gottshalks went bankrupt in January and closed their store in the mall.
The owner of the mall went bankrupt, too, and there's still no talk of what's to become of it. Back when it was built, a local engineer friend of ours had said there was no way it would ever make money, and it appears he was right.
The furniture store across the street from the mall folded their tent after many decades, and the plan to redevelop the property into a drive-thru pharmacy were nixed by the city council. The building remains vacant.
The car wash across from WalMart went bankrupt, too.
The Redlands Daily Facts totters on, supported in part by volumes of legal advertising required when property is repossessed by the banks.
Speaking of banks, Washington Mutual was taken over by the FDIC and sold to Chase.
On the plus side, business out in the "donut hole" where Target, JC Penney, and other mega stores reside is booming. Unfortunately, Redlands doesn't get tax dollars from them.
Redlands' patron saints used to be the Smiley brothers. These days, Jack Dangermond fits the role. His company, ESRI, is singlehandedly redeveloping the town, block by block. Their new glass-enclosed building opened this year, and is lushly landscaped. Jack apparently never met a tree he didn't like.
The city has found itself a couple of million dollars short, and has cut back services to help stem the bleeding. They're eating into the city reserve fund, which will run dry in about a year by my guess.
The schools are in a real mess. I believe they're underfunded by something like $11 million, with no clear path out of that jam, thanks to the state being billions upon billions short on revenue.
Our cops even had to face budget cuts, but thanks to grants, they're placing surveilance cameras on damn near every street corner. Don't you feel so much safer now? Be sure to try and "maintain" when you stagger out of one of State Street's trendy bars... the cops are watching you.
At least none of the half-dozen earthquakes that rolled through town this year did any damage.
So: on to the second decade of the 21st Century. Good luck with that.
Let's see what happened this year around Redlands.
Gottshalks went bankrupt in January and closed their store in the mall.
The owner of the mall went bankrupt, too, and there's still no talk of what's to become of it. Back when it was built, a local engineer friend of ours had said there was no way it would ever make money, and it appears he was right.
The furniture store across the street from the mall folded their tent after many decades, and the plan to redevelop the property into a drive-thru pharmacy were nixed by the city council. The building remains vacant.
The car wash across from WalMart went bankrupt, too.
The Redlands Daily Facts totters on, supported in part by volumes of legal advertising required when property is repossessed by the banks.
Speaking of banks, Washington Mutual was taken over by the FDIC and sold to Chase.
On the plus side, business out in the "donut hole" where Target, JC Penney, and other mega stores reside is booming. Unfortunately, Redlands doesn't get tax dollars from them.
Redlands' patron saints used to be the Smiley brothers. These days, Jack Dangermond fits the role. His company, ESRI, is singlehandedly redeveloping the town, block by block. Their new glass-enclosed building opened this year, and is lushly landscaped. Jack apparently never met a tree he didn't like.
The city has found itself a couple of million dollars short, and has cut back services to help stem the bleeding. They're eating into the city reserve fund, which will run dry in about a year by my guess.
The schools are in a real mess. I believe they're underfunded by something like $11 million, with no clear path out of that jam, thanks to the state being billions upon billions short on revenue.
Our cops even had to face budget cuts, but thanks to grants, they're placing surveilance cameras on damn near every street corner. Don't you feel so much safer now? Be sure to try and "maintain" when you stagger out of one of State Street's trendy bars... the cops are watching you.
At least none of the half-dozen earthquakes that rolled through town this year did any damage.
So: on to the second decade of the 21st Century. Good luck with that.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Geely: No, Not That Bad Movie...
If my old Mustang represents the past of American motoring, perhaps it's time to look to the future: enter Geely.
What's Geely? What it is not is more important. It is not some hi-tech niche market company trying to sell electric cars that look a lot like a Lotus Elise. (That would be somebody else.) It's not innovative, nor cutting edge, and certainly not top-of-mind. Scratch all that off your list.
What is is, is Chinese. Geely makes very boring sedans that look a helluva lot like somebody entered the dimensions of the Toyota Corolla, Honda Civic, Ford Focus, Mazda 3, and a bunch of other cars and spit them out for the Chinese middle class to gobble up. Which, it seems, they are. They build the same type of cars that most of the world, including us, buy by the boatload while we dream at night of owning a Porsche.
So why do I say this is our automotive future?
Twenty years ago, a Korean company called Hyundai started selling cars in the USA. They were gawd-awful. Just mentioning that somebody was driving a Hyundai was cause for giggles and the rolling of eyes.
And then we had Daihatsu, and Kia. Innocent people were buying small Fords, only to find out they were really Korean. Daihatsu disappeared after a couple of years. I had a dealer tell me they were glad to give up the franchise, because they couldn't make any money in the service department on them. They didn't break, unlike their other brand, Dodge...
Kia went bankrupt, and Hyundai bought them up. Today, they sell well. And guess what? People don't roll their eyes when somebody buys a Hyundai, because they have a killer warranty and last a long time.
The cognoscienti will tell you that Ford uses Hyundai as a quality standard to measure their car interiors against.
My, have times changed.
Korea is a small country. Geely's is going to dominate the world soon. And we owe China billions and billions and billions of dollars. Think we'll keep them out of our market? Not likely. (Crap, I'll bet WalMart will sell them.) Look for a Geely in your neighbor's garage in the next few years.
Oh, they'll have to change a few things. Like, perhaps, product names? People would split their pants laughing if you said you just bought a new Geely KINGKONG.
Oh, and did I mention Geely just purchased Volvo? That gives them an instant dealership network in North America and Europe....
What's Geely? What it is not is more important. It is not some hi-tech niche market company trying to sell electric cars that look a lot like a Lotus Elise. (That would be somebody else.) It's not innovative, nor cutting edge, and certainly not top-of-mind. Scratch all that off your list.
What is is, is Chinese. Geely makes very boring sedans that look a helluva lot like somebody entered the dimensions of the Toyota Corolla, Honda Civic, Ford Focus, Mazda 3, and a bunch of other cars and spit them out for the Chinese middle class to gobble up. Which, it seems, they are. They build the same type of cars that most of the world, including us, buy by the boatload while we dream at night of owning a Porsche.
So why do I say this is our automotive future?
Twenty years ago, a Korean company called Hyundai started selling cars in the USA. They were gawd-awful. Just mentioning that somebody was driving a Hyundai was cause for giggles and the rolling of eyes.
And then we had Daihatsu, and Kia. Innocent people were buying small Fords, only to find out they were really Korean. Daihatsu disappeared after a couple of years. I had a dealer tell me they were glad to give up the franchise, because they couldn't make any money in the service department on them. They didn't break, unlike their other brand, Dodge...
Kia went bankrupt, and Hyundai bought them up. Today, they sell well. And guess what? People don't roll their eyes when somebody buys a Hyundai, because they have a killer warranty and last a long time.
The cognoscienti will tell you that Ford uses Hyundai as a quality standard to measure their car interiors against.
My, have times changed.
Korea is a small country. Geely's is going to dominate the world soon. And we owe China billions and billions and billions of dollars. Think we'll keep them out of our market? Not likely. (Crap, I'll bet WalMart will sell them.) Look for a Geely in your neighbor's garage in the next few years.
Oh, they'll have to change a few things. Like, perhaps, product names? People would split their pants laughing if you said you just bought a new Geely KINGKONG.
Oh, and did I mention Geely just purchased Volvo? That gives them an instant dealership network in North America and Europe....
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
The '65 Is 45.
Forty-five years ago, today, my dad and I picked up the 1965 Mustang he'd had on order from the Towne Ford in Redwood City. I was ten years old, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
My first sight of what was to be the seminal car in my automotive history was not a pretty one. The hood was up, the dashboard was a maze of wiring, and a mechanic in overalls was upside down on the floor, cursing.
"Who the hell would order a car without a radio, and then decide to have one put in!" he groaned.
My dad, that's who. He'd had nothing but trouble with the radio in the old Chevy, so he'd decided to do without... only to decide later that the radio, being literally the centerpiece of the dash in the Mustang, would have looked awkward had it been missing... so he asked that it be put in when it arrived.
This was only the latest in a series of problems that had plagued the purchase. Dad had ordered it in plenty of time for it to arrive before our planned trip to celebrate Christmas with relatives. Unfortunately, the United Auto Workers had other plans that year, and went out on strike. Fortunately, Ford and the UAW came to terms in short order, but demand for new Mustangs being huge, the already long waiting time grew by several weeks. Dad grew increasingly anxious, but finally the call came only two days before Christmas.
The Mustang was to have had a saddle tan interior to complement the dark metallic green exterior, but arrived with light green seats instead. Somewhere in the middle of the model changeover and the strike, tan was discontinued and nobody bothered to tell either the dealer or my dad. My mother had made a tan pillow (alpaca fur!) which no longer matched, but it stayed in the car for many years.
Sitting in the back seat for the first time, I remember thinking that as cool as the new Mustang was, nobody was ever going to be able to restore these things, like people restored Model A's and other old cars. All that plastic! What I didn't know was that all that plastic was easier to reproduce than the stuff Model A's were built out of. Here we are, 45 years on, and that car will probably outlive me.
No time for a gentle break-in -- we left almost immediately for SoCal, at night, in a steady rain. The fresh plastic and vinyl dashboard offgassed enough goo onto the inside of the windshield to nesessitate repeated cleanings on the way. I didn't care; we had the coolest car on the highway.
A few years later, the car was mine. I drove it in high school and college, street raced it, drove it on my first job far away from home, took it on dates with many a girl, rebuilt the engine myself, and drove it with my first daughter in the back seat.
I also drove it to my dad's funeral. I sold it not long after.
Today, the car rests not far from here in the good care of an old friend. I see it occasionally and know without hesitation how every switch and knob and doorlatch should feel, how the windows sound as they are wound up; the ka-lunk of the hood and thump of the trunk as they are shut.
I know it's VIN, (5R07C166312) it's old license plate, (MKW454) that it takes a Fram PH8A oil filter, and that you set the point gap at 30 thousanths. It took Autolite BF 45 plugs. (BF 35's when racing.) I could not tell you any of those things for any car I've owned since. (Especially since "points" are a thing of the past. Electronic ignitions, you know.)
To tell you the truth, I never want to be that emotionally invested in a car again. But like an old friend you don't see any more, history is history. They don't make Mustangs the way they used to, and life has grown more complicated, too. I'll celebrate this little bit of nostalgia at a respectful distance.
My first sight of what was to be the seminal car in my automotive history was not a pretty one. The hood was up, the dashboard was a maze of wiring, and a mechanic in overalls was upside down on the floor, cursing.
"Who the hell would order a car without a radio, and then decide to have one put in!" he groaned.
My dad, that's who. He'd had nothing but trouble with the radio in the old Chevy, so he'd decided to do without... only to decide later that the radio, being literally the centerpiece of the dash in the Mustang, would have looked awkward had it been missing... so he asked that it be put in when it arrived.
This was only the latest in a series of problems that had plagued the purchase. Dad had ordered it in plenty of time for it to arrive before our planned trip to celebrate Christmas with relatives. Unfortunately, the United Auto Workers had other plans that year, and went out on strike. Fortunately, Ford and the UAW came to terms in short order, but demand for new Mustangs being huge, the already long waiting time grew by several weeks. Dad grew increasingly anxious, but finally the call came only two days before Christmas.
The Mustang was to have had a saddle tan interior to complement the dark metallic green exterior, but arrived with light green seats instead. Somewhere in the middle of the model changeover and the strike, tan was discontinued and nobody bothered to tell either the dealer or my dad. My mother had made a tan pillow (alpaca fur!) which no longer matched, but it stayed in the car for many years.
Sitting in the back seat for the first time, I remember thinking that as cool as the new Mustang was, nobody was ever going to be able to restore these things, like people restored Model A's and other old cars. All that plastic! What I didn't know was that all that plastic was easier to reproduce than the stuff Model A's were built out of. Here we are, 45 years on, and that car will probably outlive me.
No time for a gentle break-in -- we left almost immediately for SoCal, at night, in a steady rain. The fresh plastic and vinyl dashboard offgassed enough goo onto the inside of the windshield to nesessitate repeated cleanings on the way. I didn't care; we had the coolest car on the highway.
A few years later, the car was mine. I drove it in high school and college, street raced it, drove it on my first job far away from home, took it on dates with many a girl, rebuilt the engine myself, and drove it with my first daughter in the back seat.
I also drove it to my dad's funeral. I sold it not long after.
Today, the car rests not far from here in the good care of an old friend. I see it occasionally and know without hesitation how every switch and knob and doorlatch should feel, how the windows sound as they are wound up; the ka-lunk of the hood and thump of the trunk as they are shut.
I know it's VIN, (5R07C166312) it's old license plate, (MKW454) that it takes a Fram PH8A oil filter, and that you set the point gap at 30 thousanths. It took Autolite BF 45 plugs. (BF 35's when racing.) I could not tell you any of those things for any car I've owned since. (Especially since "points" are a thing of the past. Electronic ignitions, you know.)
To tell you the truth, I never want to be that emotionally invested in a car again. But like an old friend you don't see any more, history is history. They don't make Mustangs the way they used to, and life has grown more complicated, too. I'll celebrate this little bit of nostalgia at a respectful distance.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Don't Thank Sam Walton.
Most of America probably gives the founder of Walmart, Sam Walton, credit for the invention of the membership-only super center, where one can buy everything from toothpaste to tires.
The fact, as long-time Californians know, is that the credit rightfully goes to Sol Price, who died this week at age 93. Yes, Price created Price Club, which later merged with Costco. But even before that, back in 1954, he created the original super store in San Diego -- FedMart.
According to his obituary in the New York Times, Mr. Price opened his first store near Lindberg Field, limiting membership to federal employees. The first year, he lost $750,000. After offering membership to the public, the company took off and made Mr. Price a very wealthy man.
Those of us who grew up in Redlands remember FedMart very well. It was located in a former A&P supermarket on Orange Street, the site now occupied by Starbuck's Coffee and several other fast food chains.
I remember being taken there by my grandfather to buy salmon eggs before a fishing trip in the mountains. I bought model cars, spray paint (49 cents!), and a ton of other stuff there for the better part of ten years.
I miss FedMart. Thanks, Sol.
The fact, as long-time Californians know, is that the credit rightfully goes to Sol Price, who died this week at age 93. Yes, Price created Price Club, which later merged with Costco. But even before that, back in 1954, he created the original super store in San Diego -- FedMart.
According to his obituary in the New York Times, Mr. Price opened his first store near Lindberg Field, limiting membership to federal employees. The first year, he lost $750,000. After offering membership to the public, the company took off and made Mr. Price a very wealthy man.
Those of us who grew up in Redlands remember FedMart very well. It was located in a former A&P supermarket on Orange Street, the site now occupied by Starbuck's Coffee and several other fast food chains.
I remember being taken there by my grandfather to buy salmon eggs before a fishing trip in the mountains. I bought model cars, spray paint (49 cents!), and a ton of other stuff there for the better part of ten years.
I miss FedMart. Thanks, Sol.
The Big Two Hundred.
I've reached a milestone of sorts with Another Day in Redlands CA. -- my Blogger homepage tells me that this will be my 200th entry. To quote those great sages of long ago, Bartells and James: Thank you for your support.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
No News Is Bad News
Thursdays's announcement that newspaper trade publication Editor and Publisher will shut down immediately comes as quite a blow to all the ink-stained wretches out there who toil(ed) in the trade.
What better indicator that the newspaper industry is suffering serious wounds? To think that E&P is dead is just inconceivable to me. A long, long time ago, when I was working in my first serious job out of college, living on a diet consisting largely of Swanson's TV dinners, I still found the money to buy a subscription to Editor and Publisher. It kept me in touch with the rest of the business; made me feel that though I was in a crappy job, in a crappy company, in a crappy town, in a crappy state, I was part of something bigger and more important.
I suppose that there are other forums now for people in the business; back then there was no Internet, and all that personal technology has brought us -- the same technology which is killing print as we speak. But, just as there is something to be said for the tangibility of the newspaper, there is something very good indeed about a magazine that makes one feel like a professional in a world that very much wants you to be just another worker bee.
What better indicator that the newspaper industry is suffering serious wounds? To think that E&P is dead is just inconceivable to me. A long, long time ago, when I was working in my first serious job out of college, living on a diet consisting largely of Swanson's TV dinners, I still found the money to buy a subscription to Editor and Publisher. It kept me in touch with the rest of the business; made me feel that though I was in a crappy job, in a crappy company, in a crappy town, in a crappy state, I was part of something bigger and more important.
I suppose that there are other forums now for people in the business; back then there was no Internet, and all that personal technology has brought us -- the same technology which is killing print as we speak. But, just as there is something to be said for the tangibility of the newspaper, there is something very good indeed about a magazine that makes one feel like a professional in a world that very much wants you to be just another worker bee.
Worst Use Of A Rock Song In A Commercial...
We boomers have endured years of classic rock music rehashed as themes for TV commercials. Even the Beatles and Led Zep turn up in ads these days; probably the most creative use of Rock as Advertising was Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll " to reposition Cadillac in the marketplace.
What I don't understand is Pachanga Casino's use of "More Than A Feeling" by one of my favorite bands of all time, Boston. Yeah, I know, I know... baby boomers (supposedly) have money to burn at the gaming tables. Some genius says, "let's use a classic rock song nobody else has used to lure them in" and voila, we're hearing Brad Delp (RIP) implying that playing slots owned by the Indians is some sort of transcendental experience.
Right.
No, it's not right. It's wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. It's jarring. The images don't fit the soundtrack. There's no audio or video subtext to explain the use of the music. Gag.
Boston should have held out for the 2011 Mustang, or some energy drink, or something else that takes the spirit of their music and uses it to better effect.
Oh well, I hope they got a good paycheck.
What I don't understand is Pachanga Casino's use of "More Than A Feeling" by one of my favorite bands of all time, Boston. Yeah, I know, I know... baby boomers (supposedly) have money to burn at the gaming tables. Some genius says, "let's use a classic rock song nobody else has used to lure them in" and voila, we're hearing Brad Delp (RIP) implying that playing slots owned by the Indians is some sort of transcendental experience.
Right.
No, it's not right. It's wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. It's jarring. The images don't fit the soundtrack. There's no audio or video subtext to explain the use of the music. Gag.
Boston should have held out for the 2011 Mustang, or some energy drink, or something else that takes the spirit of their music and uses it to better effect.
Oh well, I hope they got a good paycheck.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Add This To Your Bookmarks, America
Think of all the crap the late, belated Weekly World News wanted you to believe was true. Now think of a web site that had real, serious stuff that the world would prefer you not know. Let me introduce you to Wikileaks. Nothing frivolous here -- just stuff that's out there, floating under the radar that you won't find Katie Couric purring about on the CBS Evening News.
Linky:
http://www.wikileaks.org/wiki/Wikileaks
Linky:
http://www.wikileaks.org/wiki/Wikileaks
Speaking of Hanukkah...
In my last post, I wondered about why no Christians write Hanukkah songs, as so many Jews write (very good) music about Christmas.
As it turns out, someone has.
It's quite a catchy tune. What makes it really interesting is the source.
Would you believe the song's author is the senior Senator from Utah, Orrin Hatch? I kid you not. And Hatch is a Mormon. Go figure.
I can't figure out how to create a link to the song, but you'll find it at NPR's web site. Enjoy.
As it turns out, someone has.
It's quite a catchy tune. What makes it really interesting is the source.
Would you believe the song's author is the senior Senator from Utah, Orrin Hatch? I kid you not. And Hatch is a Mormon. Go figure.
I can't figure out how to create a link to the song, but you'll find it at NPR's web site. Enjoy.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Random Thoughts; Not Well Thought Through.
Don't, as I found myself in a dream last night, find yourself in a circa 1970 Vietnamese village with only five rounds remaining in your M16 rifle. Especially if the village looks like Redlands. (Warning: the VC are forming up at the donut shop on the boulevard.)
Meredith Baxter is a lesbian? Damn! I've had a crush on her for 35 years. I couldn't be more surprised if Rosie O'Donnell came out and said she was straight.
Turkey isn't just for Thanksgiving anymore. Turkey purchased at a cut-rate price after Thanksgiving tastes even better, and the leftovers can stretch on for nearly a week. Yummy.
If so many Jews have had huge success recording Christmas albums (Neil Diamond? OMG...) why isn't there a market for Christians singing songs for Hanukkah? Is there a message there someplace? And, by the way, when is Michael Jackson's lost Kuanzaa album due out?
I've obviously lived a sheltered life. Apparently everybody but me knows that Ambien is a sexual stimulant. This has come to light thanks to Tiger Woods' short drive into a tree. Maybe they ought to rebrand it as "Escalade" in honor of Tiger's damaged Cadillac. Seems like a great name for a product of that nature.
Sophia Loren is 75. Seventy-five years old? No freaking way.
Meredith Baxter is a lesbian? Damn! I've had a crush on her for 35 years. I couldn't be more surprised if Rosie O'Donnell came out and said she was straight.
Turkey isn't just for Thanksgiving anymore. Turkey purchased at a cut-rate price after Thanksgiving tastes even better, and the leftovers can stretch on for nearly a week. Yummy.
If so many Jews have had huge success recording Christmas albums (Neil Diamond? OMG...) why isn't there a market for Christians singing songs for Hanukkah? Is there a message there someplace? And, by the way, when is Michael Jackson's lost Kuanzaa album due out?
I've obviously lived a sheltered life. Apparently everybody but me knows that Ambien is a sexual stimulant. This has come to light thanks to Tiger Woods' short drive into a tree. Maybe they ought to rebrand it as "Escalade" in honor of Tiger's damaged Cadillac. Seems like a great name for a product of that nature.
Sophia Loren is 75. Seventy-five years old? No freaking way.
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