My Neighborhood

Across the river, and on the other side of DC....into Maryland, is Silver Springs.  The local guys there, about a decade ago, got the city government talked into constructing this magnificent transit center.  This multi-floor contraption.....called the Paul S. Sarbanes Transit Center, was going to be the end-all solution to Silver Springs issues.

There was to be a huge open bay area for buses (34 spots), and be tied right into both the Metro and even the Maryland rail system.

You were going to be able to drive right in, and dump your passenger, and drive right out.  There's a great deal of engineering tied into the look and feel of the center.

The cost?  Roughly one-hundred and ten million....more or less.  Construction started in 2007.

I guess you are wondering about the end-date?

Well....that's really the issue.  Whoever drew up the plans....didn't really make it clear where you needed reinforced concrete, and re-bar.  The experts yesterday laid out the issues....it's just not strong enough to allow buses (in any number) to drive onto the terminal and drive down the next level.  They now admit.....you'd sit there and wait for a collapse....sooner or later.  Billions could be at stake in insurance claims if four or five buses fell through.

The fix?  The TV news guys simply laid out the issues and left it there last night.  It'll take months of study to reach some conclusion.  No one wanted to say anything, but I got this impression that they just might admit that the whole thing ought to be torn down and restarted.

As you look at the drawing on the right of what it'd look like at completion.... remind yourself that physically  it's almost ninety percent done and would have opened this year.

I'd hate to bet against it, but I'd be guessing a 2017 opening....with half the building torn down as a minimum 

Folks going to jail?  It never happens in Maryland.  The company that did the drawings will likely just walk away and declare itself renamed or bankrupt.  Folks in the construction zone will likely complain loud and long....they've spent almost several years waiting for things to be done.

My Neighborhood

This is a story that you'd hate to hear about or discuss.

Local kid....sixteen years old....decides to sneak out of the house one night....go booze up and party with his associates.  He's staying at his dad's house (divorced situation).  House is in the nicer neighborhoods here in Virginia.

The kid parties and drinks up a bit.  Then somewhere after midnight....he comes back to the back of the house....hops the fence, and misjudges his house for a house two houses down (they are all built the same way and look similar).

The kid opens a window.

He's drunk and clumsy.

The kid makes noise.

The real owner of this house.....up on the second floor....gets up and flips the lights on.

The kid thinks he's still in the right house, and just progressing up the stairs.

The kid won't stop.

The owner has a gun, and is yelling for the kid to stop.

The kid doesn't stop.

The kid is shot dead.

Cops come.  It's a very long look over the mess.  It takes hours to really come to some sorting of facts.  The dad is called.  A fairly traumatic event.  Cops finally lay out the whole episode.

There's doubt if any charges will occur.

The kid's family has come out and said they forgive the older guy who shot the kid.  They can understand how this all came down.

The mother?  She was in the local area today.  She lives in Indianapolis and kinda admits that neighborhoods there are a bit rougher, and she felt the son was safer with the ex-husband, than in Indianapolis.

You feel sorry for the kid.  But on the stupidity scale....he was pushing a ten.

The guy who shot the kid?  He's sitting there and asking himself how this all happened.  If he'd locked the windows correctly....if he'd just shot the kid in the leg....there's probably a dozen ways this could have gone another way.

My Experience in Cyprus

Back in 2009, I spent roughly ten days in Cyprus....on a vacation.  It was one of those oddball trips that you'd take in your life.  Resort.  All-inclusive beverage deal (drink as much as you want, twenty-four hours a day). Beach.

With the recent financial mess going on, I follow the events more closely than most folks.

There's roughly ten things that I came away from the trip....on Cyprus:

1.  There's a heck of a lot of folks walking around the island who speak Russian.  From employees at hotels, to 'guests'.

2.  You don't flush any toilet paper down the pipes in Cyprus....there's always a little can by the toilet and you put the paper in there.  They just don't have adequate water supplies to flush anything of a paper nature.

3.  Electricity is fairly expensive.

4.  In 2009, there were a heck of a lot of construction projects going on, and new roads and streets being built everywhere....like they had tons of money.

5.  About every fourth person you ran into....was British.  Long-term resident of the isle, as I got the impression.

6.  There's an absolute hatred of Turks.  But beyond that initial hatred, no one can say much except how Turkey helped take over the north side of the island.

7.  After reading two weeks worth of local newspapers....I got the impression that politics is a full-time thing and they must have a Fox News-like network on Cyprus to help generate that much enthusiasm 

8.  It's actually a tiny island, with only around a million residents.  There's maybe 50k visitors there throughout the summer months.

9.  Just about every single dish they serve.....has some quantity of olive oil or vinegar added to it.

10.  Even if you go in September....you'd best dress as lightly as possible.  You still sweat twenty-four hours a day.

That Satan Guy

The Bible series was again on last night, via the History Channel.  The curious episode was the moment when the devil came up.

So you gaze at the face for a minute, and you have this feeling....it's Obama.  It's actually an actor, but you just have that momentary feeling....Obama....Satan.

An accident?  Well, the producers just say it's a minor appearance thing and nothing else.

Me personally?  I'm probably locked onto that image for the rest of my life.  It's too bad that they couldn't get GW Bush for a week and have him play Noah.  I might have had better feelings for "Noah" Bush.  This satan guy?  Yeah, it kinda bothers me.

Note: Now, a true Baptist would cite various references in the Bible that Satan can take many forms, and if you think you are looking at President Obama (Satan), then it's a spiritual thing and you might have a point there.

The Crazy Law

This week will put the Senate and the mass media into an odd position.  Senator Lindsey Graham (R, SC) has put a bill on the Senate table that says if you are declared mentally incompetent....you have to be put into the national database, for gun purchases.  You are then immediately disqualified from owning a weapon.

You can see some complications here, which the mass media will have to either ignore the bill entirely or pretend that it would hinder the mission at hand.

The Democratic Senators?  They have to pretend the bill doesn't exist.  Otherwise, you start to dig into much broader questions.  For example....if a person is mentally incompetent....can you even allow them to vote? Or how about the purchase of alcohol?  A driver's license?  Could someone accuse a member of the Senate being mentally incompetent and then have them forced from the Senate floor?

After a couple of days....the mental health community will weigh in, and condemn the law.  It's just not right or fair.  The crazies need to retain their gun rights.  At that point...you will shake your head and ask if the mental health community is crazy itself.

The truth?  There's probably a million Americans who fall into some category of being mentally incompetent....either temporary or permanently.  We could run around the US and accuse a dozen people in every community of a thousand folks or more.  Using Graham's law....you'd just appear in front of some local judge....recite the federal law (if passed), and then folks declared incompetent.    They wouldn't have to worry....no one will ship them off to a state facility....they'd just start to lose their rights as an American.

You can sense that a bunch of political folks are busy....doing mostly nothing....at a turbo speed.....and ending up with some results of questionable value.

If I lined up the sixteen mass shootings of 2012 and drilled into the mentally competency of the sixteen shooters....I think more than half would have been declared crazy.   So there is a point to this.  The question is.....just what else gets attached to this in the years to come.

Passage of the law?  Forget about it.  I just don't see more than two Democrats lining up to support this. And the media will not discuss the matter at all.

The New Rule on Ramstein

In my youth, while in the Air Force, I spent a number of years (between five and six) living in the dorm (barracks is a more appropriate word but the Air Force hates the term).  It ended up giving me a fairly different view on life.

The dorm room was simple.  You had a bunk, a locker, a desk, a chair and a night stand to yourself.  Typically, you had a refrigerator shared between you and your associate.

Over those years of life in the dorm, you got used to alcohol being around, and on rare occasions....some stupid events would occur.  I came to eventually realize that it was the same issues that you had in college dorms.

This past week, at Ramstein Air Base, Germany....the wing commander has decided to fix an ongoing problem at the base with alcohol incidents in the dorms.  He banned all alcohol  period.  No booze, no beer, no wine.  You can't bring it in.  You can't store it.  You can't drink it, within the dorm.

The logic of the commander?  He believes the dorms are merely an extension of the training atmosphere. The idea of the dorms being a living atmosphere?  Zero.

The issue in his mind is that alcohol consumption has triggered various cases that gone into the Air Force court room on base....throughout the last decade (I'm guessing).  Once his tactic has been demonstrated and he goes for sixty days without any alcohol incidents....he'll consider it a success.  It won't go away unless some General gets into the mess to toss the rule, or until this wing commander leaves the base and a new guy arrives to toss the rule.

What happens now?  I suspect most guys will simply store their booze, beer and wine....in their car trunk, and drink mostly in the parking lot.  The cops will report this and the commander will try to devise a policy of no booze stored in a private car....which base legal will laugh themselves into a fit and tell him that you can't really make up a rule like that.

Male and female banding together and just marrying for the heck of getting out of the barracks?  It was an odd tradition in South Korea for twenty-odd years and made it into several other countries where the Air Force had installations.  I could see twenty such arrangement occurring this spring as marriages are negotiated and just occur to get permission to move off-base.  It's silly, but it's a solution.

So out there tonight....are Airman Gus, Airman Charley, and Airman Chad.  The boys are all twenty years old and been on Ramstein for eight months.  They'd like to have a party in their dorm.....but the best they can arrange for refreshments is water, Tang, and Doctor Pepper.  The boys are wondering....if this is the way that things work in real life.

Down the street from our Airman on Ramstein....is the German barracks.  I'm guessing....there's this wicked grin on the face of the German military youths.  The wing commander's authority doesn't affect them.  He can order just about anything he wants on Ramstein....but their barracks (notice, I didn't say dorm) is beyond his authority.  They've got plenty of beer piled up in their rooms.  Life goes on.

It's a bold new world out there.

Harry

I don't normally lay out obituaries in my blog.  However, there's this one obit which got published in the last week, and it's been on my mind.  This old guy has passed on, and his daughter sat down and write up a personalize obit.

Normally, obituary writings are pretty serious and lay out a long life.  No one ever says what's on their mind....but in this case....she pretty cleared the deck and wrote the best obit that I've ever seen.  I frankly admit.....I would have liked to have met the guy.  He is likely a one of a kind individual.

Harry Weathersby Stamps 

December 19, 1932 -- March 9, 2013 

Long Beach 

Harry Weathersby Stamps, ladies' man, foodie, natty dresser, and accomplished traveler, died on Saturday, March 9, 2013. 

Harry was locally sourcing his food years before chefs in California starting using cilantro and arugula (both of which he hated). For his signature bacon and tomato sandwich, he procured 100% all white Bunny Bread from Georgia, Blue Plate mayonnaise from New Orleans, Sauer's black pepper from Virginia, home grown tomatoes from outside Oxford, and Tennessee's Benton bacon from his bacon-of-the-month subscription. As a point of pride, he purported to remember every meal he had eaten in his 80 years of life. 

The women in his life were numerous. He particularly fancied smart women. He loved his mom Wilma Hartzog (deceased), who with the help of her sisters and cousins in New Hebron reared Harry after his father Walter's death when Harry was 12. He worshipped his older sister Lynn Stamps Garner (deceased), a character in her own right, and her daughter Lynda Lightsey of Hattiesburg. He married his main squeeze Ann Moore, a home economics teacher, almost 50 years ago, with whom they had two girls Amanda Lewis of Dallas, and Alison of Starkville. He taught them to fish, to select a quality hammer, to love nature, and to just be thankful. He took great pride in stocking their tool boxes. One of his regrets was not seeing his girl, Hillary Clinton, elected President. 

He had a life-long love affair with deviled eggs, Lane cakes, boiled peanuts, Vienna [Vi-e-na] sausages on saltines, his homemade canned fig preserves, pork chops, turnip greens, and buttermilk served in martini glasses garnished with cornbread. 

He excelled at growing camellias, rebuilding houses after hurricanes, rocking, eradicating mole crickets from his front yard, composting pine needles, living within his means, outsmarting squirrels, never losing a game of competitive sickness, and reading any history book he could get his hands on. He loved to use his oversized "old man" remote control, which thankfully survived Hurricane Katrina, to flip between watching The Barefoot Contessa and anything on The History Channel. He took extreme pride in his two grandchildren Harper Lewis (8) and William Stamps Lewis (6) of Dallas for whom he would crow like a rooster on their phone calls. As a former government and sociology professor for Gulf Coast Community College, Harry was thoroughly interested in politics and religion and enjoyed watching politicians act like preachers and preachers act like politicians. He was fond of saying a phrase he coined "I am not running for political office or trying to get married" when he was "speaking the truth." He also took pride in his service during the Korean conflict, serving the rank of corporal--just like Napolean, as he would say. 

Harry took fashion cues from no one. His signature every day look was all his: a plain pocketed T-shirt designed by the fashion house Fruit of the Loom, his black-label elastic waist shorts worn above the navel and sold exclusively at the Sam's on Highway 49, and a pair of old school Wallabees (who can even remember where he got those?) that were always paired with a grass-stained MSU baseball cap. 

Harry traveled extensively. He only stayed in the finest quality AAA-rated campgrounds, his favorite being Indian Creek outside Cherokee, North Carolina. He always spent the extra money to upgrade to a creek view for his tent. Many years later he purchased a used pop-up camper for his family to travel in style, which spoiled his daughters for life. 

He despised phonies, his 1969 Volvo (which he also loved), know-it-all Yankees, Southerners who used the words "veranda" and "porte cochere" to put on airs, eating grape leaves, Law and Order (all franchises), cats, and Martha Stewart. In reverse order. He particularly hated Day Light Saving Time, which he referred to as The Devil's Time. It is not lost on his family that he died the very day that he would have had to spring his clock forward. This can only be viewed as his final protest. 

Because of his irrational fear that his family would throw him a golf-themed funeral despite his hatred for the sport, his family will hold a private, family only service free of any type of "theme." Visitation will be held at Bradford-O'Keefe Funeral Home, 15th Street, Gulfport on Monday, March 11, 2013 from 6-8 p.m. 

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you make a donation to Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College (Jeff Davis Campus) for their library. Harry retired as Dean there and was very proud of his friends and the faculty. He taught thousands and thousands of Mississippians during his life. The family would also like to thank the Gulfport Railroad Center dialysis staff who took great care of him and his caretaker Jameka Stribling. 

Finally, the family asks that in honor of Harry that you write your Congressman and ask for the repeal of Day Light Saving Time. Harry wanted everyone to get back on the Lord's Time.