A Very Good Job Interview Today

Word of the day: challah \HAH-luh (the initial "H" is also frequently pronounced as a velar fricative)\ noun: egg-rich yeast-leavened bread that is usually braided or twisted before baking and is traditionally eaten by Jews on the Sabbath and holidays.

Christmas In Washington

A White House Christmas:

Click this link to view a fun and enjoyable Washington, DC Christmas at the White House.

    http://www.whitehouse.gov/barney/barneycam2005.wm.v.html

A Jovian Shangri-la!

Word of the day: Shangri-la \shang-grih-LAH\ noun *1 : a remote beautiful imaginary place where life approaches perfection : utopia.  2 : a remote usually idyllic hideaway.

Click on the "add your own" link to leave your thoughts on what a "jovian shangri-la" might be like!

Another Benefit of Living in Washington, DC

Word of the day: jovian  \'jO-vE-&n Function: adjective: of, relating to, or characteristic of the god or planet Jupiter. 
 

D.C. preliminarily approves sweeping D.P. law
Congress could still veto
By LOU CHIBBARO JR. | Dec 6, 5:49 PM

Domestic partners in the District of Columbia would be granted full rights of inheritance as well as the obligation to pay alimony and child support under a far-reaching bill the D.C. Council approved on Tuesday in a unanimous, “first reading” voice vote.

     

Mayor Anthony Williams is expected to sign the bill granting extensive rights to gay couples if it is approved at its second reading on Dec. 20. (Photo by Rudy K. Lawidjaja) The Council is expected to approve the bill in a required second and final “reading” at its Dec. 20 session. Mayor Anthony Williams is expected to sign the measure. It must then go before Congress for a 30-day review period and would become law if Congress does not veto the measure.

If the bill ultimately wins approval, the level of legal recognition for gay couples in the District of Columbia would rise dramatically over those provided by the city’s current domestic partners law. However, the recognition would not reach the level of other states such as California, New Jersey, Connecticut and Vermont, where same-sex couples are afforded state benefits and rights similar to those available to married couples.

The Domestic Partnership Equality Act of 2005, introduced last February by Councilmember Phil Mendelson (D-At-Large), was placed on the Council’s consent agenda.

Nine of the Council’s 13 members, in addition to Mendelson, signed on as co-sponsors.

The bill amends the city’s existing domestic partnership law, which defines domestic partners as two persons at least 18 years old, either of the same or the opposite gender, who live together, are the sole domestic partner of the other, and who are not married.

The decision to leave language in the original D.P. statute that bars married couples, either same-sex or opposite sex, from registering as domestic partners was intended to satisfy some critics in Congress who vowed to overturn any attempt by the District to recognize gay marriage. Some activists have criticized the marriage exclusion provision, saying D.C. should legalize same-sex marriage.

The Mendelson bill provides those who register as domestic partners with at least six benefits, or obligations, that currently are only available to married couples.

Among them are recognition of domestic partners and their children as legal heirs should a partner die without leaving a will; a series of rights and benefits for surviving partners and children equal to those available to surviving married spouses under the city’s property laws; immunity from testifying against a partner in civil or criminal proceedings; legal standing to sue for negligence in the event of a wrongful death of a partner; and the right to make legally binding “pre-marital” agreements.

The pending legislation also provides power of attorney to manage financial, medical and legal matters if one partner becomes incapacitated, and offers protection for private conversations between partners with doctors and religious figures, such as ministers, priests or rabbis.

“This legislation is not about gay marriage,” a legislative report prepared by the Council’s Judiciary Committee stated. Mendelson chairs the committee that issued the report.

9/11 Report: Results Don't Surprise Me! You?

Its been all over the news since its release a day or so ago;  the findings of the 9/11 Commission on performance of the U.S. Government and Bush Administration's handling of terrorism.  It doesn't surprise me in the least given we've got a "President" who is a master of disguise, malversation, and misrepresentation.

The report can be found at www.9-11pdp.org

Le Palias du Couchon Makes "The Hill" Newspaper

 

The Newspaper
for and about
the U.S. Congress  

Hysterical baseball rush
Ignoring RFK enlargement

The hysterics at The Washington Post sports section are doing their job. Baseball is back. This is bigger than Joe Gibbs! Bigger than Michael Jordan! Bigger than the Capitals! This can save Washington! Has anyone noticed that the noisier the media frenzy about sports here, the more resounding the flop that follows?
 DUNCAN SPENCER Baseball’s new neighborhood: First and O streets S.E. And has anyone noticed that the city, having dished up the idea of a $450 million stadium to get the down-and-out Expos here, is stuck with a bad deal? A bondholder’s nightmare?

Has anyone noticed the litany of financial troubles of debt-burdened stadiums: 1991’s Comiskey Park, 1992’s Camden Yards, 1994’s Coors Field, 1994’s Jacobs Field, 1998’s Diamondbacks Field, 1999’s Safeco Field? These are just the most obvious cases of new stadiums struggling with debt, low attendance or emergency refinancing.

Very few of the cheering throng bothered to go to the rather bizarre wasteland of sex clubs, obscure businesses, piles of rubble, scores of panhandlers and highway grime that is to become the new home of the new team. I did, wandering from P to O streets S.E. — past The Follies at 34 O St., the Club Washington and Club Bath Chain, past Secrets at 26 O St. In all, there are 27 parcels in the area to be cleared for the new stadium — 27 possible lawsuits, compensation cases, etc. etc.

The only thing the site has going for it is splendid views of the Anacostia River. The views make the site perfect for housing or mixed-use development, not a concrete-and-steel doughnut that will be empty, let’s face it, most of its life.

The thought that keeps reoccurring: Why not play at RFK? Permanently.

When Jack Kent Cooke wanted to build a new stadium for the Redskins, using part of the vast parking area out there between Eastern High School and Kingman Island, sensible voices were raised to urge the cheaper and simpler solution. To enlarge RFK.

That’s right. A local architect, since moved to Frederick, Md., testified to the City Council that enlarging RFK would be relatively inexpensive, could be done quickly, by adding another tier of seating (a second circle around the already circular structure), and could be done without demolishing the present playing field — in a single off-season.

Mayor Anthony Williams (D) and the city fathers are counting on an average of 30,000 patrons per baseball game as a financial starting line. There is much evidence that this is an unrealistic goal. Even the most cheerful of the promoters of the new stadium deal say that suburbanites, not city dwellers, will be the backbone of the ticket buyers — just as in the case of the Redskins and the Capitals. It was hard enough to get them to come to MCI Center; without the draw of the beloved Redskins, they would not have come to RFK. Now the city is expecting these people, who have showed their opinion of the city with their feet for 50 years, to flock to 2nd and O streets S.E. And who will pay for it? Not them. Us.

Williams and the eager business crowd ought now to do what Washington does best: procrastinate. The Expos are going to play at RFK for three years at least. Let the attendance tell the tale. If baseball works for RFK, then build the new stadium, or enlarge the old one. But not before.

When Cooke, in the nine years of wrangling from 1987 to 1996, offered to pay for a new stadium in Washington, it was the city that stood in his way. Now we’re on our hands and knees begging to throw gold at one of the worst teams in the National League, offering bribes to Baltimore Orioles owner Peter Angelos, offering to build a $450 million colossus in the middle of nowhere.

That Six Degrees of Seperation

Word of the day: homonymous \hoe-MAH-nuh-mus\ adjective:  1 : ambiguous.   *2 : having the same designation.  3 : of, relating to, or being homonyms.

Iranian-born writer Azar Nafisi was fired from the University of Tehran for refusing to wear a veil. Her book, Reading Lolita in Tehran, is based on the years she secretly taught literature to female students in her home. Nafisi now works at the Johns Hopkins School for Advanced International Studies.

“I believe that it is only through empathy, that the pain experienced by an Algerian woman, a North Korean dissident, a Rwandan child or an Iraqi prisoner, becomes real to me and not just passing news.”

I believe in empathy. I believe in the kind of empathy that is created through imagination and through intimate, personal relationships. I am a writer and a teacher, so much of my time is spent interpreting stories and connecting to other individuals. It is the urge to know more about ourselves and others that creates empathy. Through imagination and our desire for rapport, we transcend our limitations, freshen our eyes, and are able to look at ourselves and the world through a new and alternative lens.

Whenever I think of the word empathy, I think of a small boy named Huckleberry Finn contemplating his friend and runaway slave, Jim. Huck asks himself whether he should give Jim up or not. Huck was told in Sunday school that people who let slaves go free go to "everlasting fire." But then, Huck says he imagines he and Jim in "the day and nighttime, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we a-floating along, talking and singing and laughing." Huck remembers Jim and their friendship and warmth. He imagines Jim not as a slave but as a human being and he decides that, "alright, then, I'll go to hell."

What Huck rejects is not religion but an attitude of self-righteousness and inflexibility. I remember this particular scene out of Huck Finn so vividly today, because I associate it with a difficult time in my own life. In the early 1980s when I taught at the University of Tehran, I, like many others, was expelled. I was very surprised to discover that my staunchest allies were two students who were very active at the University's powerful Muslim Students' Association. These young men and I had engaged in very passionate and heated arguments. I had fiercely opposed their ideological stances. But that didn't stop them from defending me. When I ran into one of them after my expulsion, I thanked him for his support. "We are not as rigid as you imagine us to be Professor Nafisi," he responded. "Remember your own lectures on Huck Finn? Let's just say, he is not the only one who can risk going to hell!"

This experience in my life reinforces my belief in the mysterious connections that link individuals to each other despite their vast differences. No amount of political correctness can make us empathize with a child left orphaned in Darfur or a woman taken to a football stadium in Kabul and shot to death because she is improperly dressed. Only curiosity about the fate of others, the ability to put ourselves in their shoes, and the will to enter their world through the magic of imagination, creates this shock of recognition. Without this empathy there can be no genuine dialogue, and we as individuals and nations will remain isolated and alien, segregated and fragmented.

I believe that it is only through empathy, that the pain experienced by an Algerian woman, a North Korean dissident, a Rwandan child or an Iraqi prisoner, becomes real to me and not just passing news. And it is at times like this when I ask myself, am I prepared -- like Huck Finn -- to give up Sunday school heaven for the kind of hell that Huck chose

 

Way Too Cool Mark Nason Boots

Word of the day: occlusion \uh-KLOO-zhun\ noun:  1 a : the complete obstruction of the breath passage in the articulation of a speech sound b : the bringing of the opposing surfaces of the teeth of the two jaws into contact; also : the relation between the surfaces when in contact c : the inclusion or sorption of gas trapped during solidification of a material.  *2 : the front formed by a cold front overtaking a warm front and lifting the warm air above the earth's surface.

"Dallas" Boots by Mark Nason

An Emotional Roller-Coaster Weekend w/Jeff

Word of the day: belle epoque \BEL-ay-POK\ noun: a period of high artistic or cultural development; especially : such a period in France around the end of the 19th century.

Today was probably one of the worst days I've had in a very long time with Jeff.  I haven't been feeling well all week/weekend long.  I've had general malaise and add to that depression and anxiety from fending off panic.

I had asked him on numerous occasions to not keep talking about things that stress me out and gave him specifics.  For each of the specifics I gave him, he would only talk of those things.  It got to the point where I lost it.  Now I'm dealing with major depression and guilt.  I wish he's listen to what I tell him.  I don't like having these types of situations and the reactions I had from it.

The Picadilly, Gibralter

Word of the day: malversation  \mal-ver-SAY-shun\ noun *1 : misbehavior and especially corruption in an office, trust, or commission.  2 : corrupt administration.   (PERHAPS THAT OF GEORGE W. BUSH, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA) 

My First Thought

Word of the day: bogus  \BOH-gus\ adjective: not genuine : counterfeit, sham.

My first thought was "Snow Pea Wong".  *^%#(*%^$!

 

The Kindness of Strangers

Word of the day: scumble  \SKUM-bul\ verb1 a : to make (as color or a painting) less brilliant by covering with a thin coat of opaque or semiopaque color b : to apply (a color) in this manner *2 : to soften the lines or colors of (a drawing) by rubbing lightly.

As you may have read in the initial months of my blog.  Friends sometimes really, aren't!  I read this article (there's audio too) and I believe it is imperative and paramount that it be part of my blog.  Here is the National Public Radio link: 

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5035935 

The Kindness of Strangers

 

Steve Garrett

Daniel Ferri says his work as a grave-digger, fork lift driver, assembly line worker and potter helped him mature enough to be a teacher. The most important thing he hopes to bring to his sixth-grade students is kindness. The doctors caring for Ferri's son, Owen, are encouraged by his progress.

  “In this, the most difficult time of my life, the people our family depended upon most were people who we had never met, people we would likely never see again -- strangers.”

Morning Edition, December 5, 2005 · I believe in the kindness of strangers. I learned to believe this from a hurricane and a newborn baby boy.

Our son Owen was born just as Hurricane Katrina approached the Gulf Coast. Twodays later, as Katrina neared landfall, Owen began suffering seizures; he'd had a stroke.

I didn't follow the catastrophe on the Gulf Coast as closely as I might have, but those weeks taught me some things about catastrophe and about the kindness of strangers.

All catastrophes are personal. Some in the Gulf Coast sought survival; some sought to help others. Some prayed; some preyed upon others.

At the hospital, we watched our son Owen sleep. Despite the tubes dripping and the monitors beeping, he still slept his baby sleep. My wife asked for the pastor; I asked for the doctor. She prayed for him. I held the CAT scan up to the light and searched for answers.

No one can know what you will feel or fear in a time of need, but I learned that in this, the most difficult time of my life, the people our family depended upon most were people we had never met, people who we would likely never see again -- strangers. We depended upon strangers, strangers who knew their duty was to help others. We depended upon the nurses who cared so well for our son, who cooed to him and caressed him, who watched me hold him through the night and never seemed to notice how ugly a man is when he cries. We depended upon the hostel that gave us a place to stay near the hospital, upon the members of my union who believe caring for our child's health should not ruin us, upon the doctors and clerks and ambulance drivers. We depended upon a commitment made to helping others. This commitment is a web that holds us together in times of need.

By the time we took Owen home, the worst effects of Katrina were evident. I watched the images from the Gulf Coast, images of communities, lives and families whose fabric had been torn apart. I thought of that web of strangers that had embraced my family in our time of need, and that it is the most fortunate among us who are served best by it.

I can only hope this web will be strong enough, that it will be spun wide, that it will hold and care for many, that we can all depend upon the kindness of strangers.

 

DUCKS!

Yes, Ducks!  This morning on my way to my office from the Rosslyn Metro (subway stop) as I was crossing Lynn Street, a pickup truck passed with a Ducks Ulimited license plate from Virginia.  His plate read "QUAAK"!  That got me to thinking about ducks.  Yes, ducks!  Had he been an insurance professional, then his perfect plate would have been AFLAC, provided he was an AFLAC employee.

Some of the thoughts that come to my mind when I ponder ducks are the following:

1.  They're very cute.  They waddle around quacking with what would amount to snowshoes or diving fins for a human.  Maybe that quack is cursing the duck creator!,

2.  They are beautiful and graceful swimming along in a pond or stream.  Appearing to be completely unsuspecting of a hungry turtle below the surface salivating for "Duck a la Pond"!,

3.  Ducks to me acutally symbolize an inpenetratable resilience.  After all, us humans have the saying "like water off a duck's back". 

4.  They come all sorts of beautiful colors.  Especialy the male Mallards.

5.  A short while back I had the conversation with someone of other than coloration, how can you tell the difference between the Drake (male) and the Duck (female).  He didn't know that it was my the curl on the tail of the drake.  He also didn't know the term for the male was "drake".

6.  When I was growing up as a kid living on the farm, I had ducks.  I had white ones, black ones, brown ones, and colorful ones.  I was always sad when the foxes would kill them.  I'd go out early in the morning to feed the animals and there'd be duck feathers everywhere.  Somehow the chickens rarely fell prey to the foxes.  Vixen is the term for a female fox.  I suppose it was because they could at least fly up into the trees to roost at night whereas the ducks could fly, but their webbed feet wouldn't help them hold on to the branch.  Therefore they had to squat on the ground or some low lying area where Mr. Fox would go up and grab him his next meal.  It sometimes made me cry.

Thank You

John,

THANK YOU, for your kind, generous, thoughtful, and gratefully appreciated extension of my work deadline.  While I've been busting my ass to find new employment resulting from the changes here at the office, the challenge is escalated simply because of this being the 2005 holiday season.  A time  when companies are generally in a "cooling down" mode in preparation of the upcoming holidays and all the aspects of that including employee's holiday vacations, hiring decisions, etcetera.  I've had numerous interviews.  Several have been chaff; seperated from the wheat.  However some very promising opportunities have presented themselves but won't be acted upon by corporate decision-makers until after the first of the year.

Again, I'm thankful, appreciative, and most importantly grateful for your generousity.  Your decisoin makes a marked difference and has a meaning and significance to me that WILL NOT ever go unrecognized nor forgotten.  For me, I classify acts like yours under what I consider "the chain of love" which cannot ever end.  That, simply would be wrong!  What you have done for me obligates me to you, and most importantly myself to pass the kindness along to some other deserving person along the pathway of my life.  That, I promise, will happen.

Martin 

Perhaps I should treat myself to crabcakes from "The Oceanaire" in celebration!

Xylography

Word of the day: xylography  \zye-LAH-gruh-fee\ noun: the art of making engravings on wood especially for printing.

I learned something new again today.  I didn't know that one of my art interests is called xylography.  I remember as early as in high school art class, I enjoyed printmaking by carving reverse images into wood blocks.  I never knew what the artform was called.

EXTRA! EXTRA! EXTRA! EXTRA!

MY BOSS HERE AT THE ARLINGTON INSTITUTE FOR NATIONAL STRATEGY HAS EXTENDED MY WORK UNTIL JANUARY 15, 2006 WITH FULL PAY AND BENEFITS!

Dressed Like A Republican, Walking Like An Eqyptian

Word of the day: kapellmeister  \kuh-PELL-my-ster\ noun: the director of a choir or orchestra.

Today is interview day with SASM&F,........

I just returned from the interview and we both mutually agree that the position is below my skill and experience level.  However, I firmly believe I'll receive a job offer from them; not within the next few days, but definately within the near future.

The H.R. Director was one of the most suave, sophisticated, debonaire, smart and insightful individuals I've ever met.  She's definately someone to keep in contact with.

An email excerpt from the feedback to the recruiter from the H.R. Director:

"Sent: Tuesday, November 29, 2005 11:52 AM
To: Wendy
Subject: RE: Martin

I loved Martin, however, he is overqualified for the position he interviewed for this morning.  I gave his resume to the Office Administrator for our Marketing Department.  She will share it with the Partner of that Department becuase she is looking for someone with a very high level of experience. and Martin would be great.   I will keep you posted, I want to see Martin in this Firm."

I firmly believe that Dex's suggestion of the five Asps was the key ingredient!

That Instigator Dex!

Word of the day: instigate  \IN-stuh-gayt\ verb: to goad or urge forward : provoke, incite.

He should be shamed of himself planting ideas in my mind.  Gratefully so, he turned me onto "Sordid Lives".  Now that I've seen the "trailer" to it and a preview.  I have to have that movie.  Its on my www.amazon.com wish list.

 

What A Drive

Word of the day: effulgence  \\ih-FULL-junss\ noun: radiant splendor : brilliance.

What a drive that was from Bristol back to Washington today.  Not only did I have to contend with the regular parking lot of Interstate 81 from Bristol to Front Royal, Virginia.  Add to it the returning Thanksgiving traffic and rain.  Pour in a few accidents and you have STRESS!.  Thanks to the effulgence of my intelligence and perhaps the lack of other out of towner travellers, I had to get off I-81 on 4 occasions and drive up State Highway 11, the old route to Washington, DC prior to the interstate being built.  It helped me tremendously in getting to DC.

Near exit 175, Wattstull, VA there was a 20 car pile-up southbound and everyone northbound was rubber-necking and that held traffic up with a northbound back-up of about 15 miles.  The southbound back-up was well over 20 miles long.

Toonie, The One Who Loved Me Unconditionally

Word of the day: quietus  \kwy-EE-tus\ noun 1 : final settlement (as of a debt) 2 : removal from activity; especially : death *3 : something that quiets or represses.

Remember, he passed away last Christmas.  Today, I placed a bouquet of Poinsettias on his grave to celebrate his life and my love for him.

Oh Jeff, I Love You So Much But Don't Know How to Show It!

Word of the day: bumbershoot  \BUM-ber-shoot\ noun: umbrella.

Jeff, I have such immense admiration for you.  You have overcome so much since Mother's passing.  I wish you were able to connect with her like I do daily.  She always reassures me that you're OK and that she's proud of you.  She always sends her love and oversight.  I too, love you more than words can say.  You have really taken the reigns of your mental illness and overcome obstacles I never thought you'd overcome.  I'm proud of you and wish I could show my love to you in a more tender way than how I do.  I suppose that if I weren't a "hard-liner" with you and your support network; as I am, you'd wouldn't have had the positive support you've received to help you accomplish so much.  I  believe in you.You too, must always believe in yourself.  You have overcome and will continue to do so long as you hold an unquavering and eternal confidence and faith in yourself.

Maarten's Maternal Grandparents

Word of the day: utile  \YOO-til\ adjective: useful.

Lewis and Victoria Childers.  Lewis was my maternal grandfather.  Victoria was my maternal step-grandmother.  We always had to behave so formally around them.  I don't understand why?  They were just country people like me.  They had more money than us, but the step-family greedily absconded wtih all that.  They even tried to take my mother's inheritance left by her blood mother.

I'm A Huge Paul Oakenfold Fan. Yes, Thats Correct; I Do Love Country Music Too!

Word of the day: linchpin  \LINCH-pin\ noun 1 : a locking pin inserted crosswise (as through the end of an axle or shaft)  *2 : one that serves to hold together parts or elements that exist or function as a unit.

 

 

Mr. Paul Oakenfold, himself!  I think he's kinda sexy!

Maarten, Through the Years

Word of the day: obsequious  \ub-SEE-kwee-uss\ adjective: marked by or exhibiting a fawning attentiveness .

Thanksgiving 2005

Word of the day: tchotchke  \CHAHCH-kuh\ noun: knickknack, trinket.

Today seems to be a difficult day for me to celebrate joyously.  I'm quite happy that I can have Thanksgiving with my brother.  However,  I can't keep out of my mind all the people who are unable to have a Thanksgiving this year.  Especially the victims of hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and Wilma (and the U.S. Government under the watchful eye and unsafe hands of The Dishonorable President of the United States of America, George W. Bush and his political agenda).  While I have little; soon to be unemployed, I have more than most of those people.  I was unable to eat much today because of these people laying heavy on my mind.  I hope God has blessed them as I have been.

 

Christmas 2000 At 1121 Columbia Road, NW

Maarten's First Mercedes, A 1999 Mercedes Benz C230 K Sport

Jeff's New Home

This Is Jeff, My Brother

This Is My Father (July 9, 1927- March 12, 1982)

Word of the day: elan  \ay-LAHNG (the "NG" is not pronounced, but the vowel is nasalized)\ noun: vigorous spirit or enthusiasm.

Do you think I have a resemblance of my father?  I think he sure was a damn good-looking man in this military photo. 

He and I never had a healthy father-son relationship.  I believe he may have had a number of mental health issues which were self-managed, medicated, or otherwise by his alcoholism and frequent and regular demonstration of his propensity for use of violence and abuse as a power and control tool. I've tried to forgive him many many times and will continue to do so.  So far I've been wholly unsuccessful but have gained some insight and understanding into who he was and why his behavior was the way it was.  I continue to strive for success in forgiveness.  Forgiveness of him is a goal in my life.  I hope I find the day I forgive.  Its in no one's better interest that I forget.  This was the most painful, marked, influential and brutal love in my life.

Throughout my life's journey.  My personal experiences have helped me to gain appreciation for the factors that may have caused his alcoholism, violence, and brutality.  They are:

1.  Lack of education.

2.  Poverty.

3.  Hopelessness.

4.  Anger.

5.  Grief.

6.  Nescience.

7.  War

8.  Death and dying.

9.  Rural environment.

10.  Limited social support network

11.  Inability to understand and accept mental health issues and the lack of courage to reject social stigmas associated with mental health

12.  Someone reassuring him its OK to talk about mental health.  That mental health is a disease like diabetes, cancer, or any other.

13.  Sense of personal failure.

14.  Inability to express paternal love for his children and the love of a husband to his wife.

The Venetian Donald Duck

Word of the day: waggish  \WAG-ish\ adjective*1 : resembling or characteristic of a wag.  2 : done or made in waggery or for sport : humorous.

My Mark Nason Shoes - I'm Not Known As The Gay Immelda For Nothing.

Word of the day: carceral  \KAHR-suh-rul\ adjective: of, relating to, or suggesting a jail or prison.

This is representative of about 1/3 of my Mark Nason shoes.  I totally love them.

 

 

 

 

This is my post to www.Zappos.com regarding Mark Nason shoes as a whole:

 2005-02-28 21:31:50 Mark Nason Corleone
Reviewer: Martin D from Washington, DC
Overall:   Comfort:   Look:
Shoe Size: Felt true to size
Shoe Width: Felt true to width

Unparalleled Style; A League Of Its Own - Mark Nason shoe designs have to be amongst those considered to be the most unique and forwardly creative. The styles are for the man who is independent, confident, bold, and expressive; making no excuses for his eye opening, whisper making style. These are NOT for the conservative fashionably weak but should be. Zappo's, thank you for making Mark Nason shoes available at my request.

Other shoes recommended by reviewer: Todd Welsh- only as a transition tool for conservative dressers

My Grandmother Minnie Maggie Willis-Dixon

 

Richard Branson's Competition

Virgin Airways v. Slut Airways!   Wonder who has more fun! 

Todd Welsh Shoes

Todd Welsh Shoes used to be my favorites.  Now my favorite is Mark Nason

More On The Naked Cowboy

Word of the day: detritus  \dih-TRYE-tus\ noun 1 : loose material (as rock fragments or organic particles) that results directly from disintegration.  2 a : a product of disintegration, destruction, or wearing away : debris *b : miscellaneous remnants : odds and ends.

The Naked Cowboy was referenced in publicity for the upcoming Country Music Awards show in New York City.

 

The Naked Truth - The Naked Cowboy in New York City
BY NICHOLAS J. ZITELLI

The door to a second-floor room at the Royal Motel in Secaucus opened slowly Monday afternoon, revealing a muscular, brooding man in shorts and a tank top.

"Howdy," the man said, shaking my hand. "Naked Cowboy."

"You sure you want to do this, man?" I asked him. "It must be 20 degrees out here..."

"Hell yeah!" he said, "Come on in."

On Tour with the Naked Cowboy
I had made a plan earlier that day to interview Robert John Burck for the Secaucus Reporter. Burck, 34, has gained fame by standing in the middle of Times Square in Manhattan in his underwear every day, getting paid to pose for pictures with passers-by. Clad only in boots and tighty-whities, the "Naked Cowboy" commands attention with his chiseled features and tattoos. He earns as much as $1,000 a day and constantly turns heads.

But at night, Robert John Burck returns to his room in the Royal Motel on Route 3 in Secaucus, except when he is making appearances elsewhere in the country.

My plan was to interview the Cincinnati native for an hour or two, but Burck wanted me to get the wholeexperience.

"If you just want to scratch the surface, I guess that's fine," he had said resignedly on the phone that day. "But if you want to get deep with the Naked Cowboy, then maybe we should head into the city right now."

In twenty-degree weather? Nearly in the buff?

"Why not?" I asked. "What time and where?"

The Hotel Room
First, an inventory of the Naked Cowboy's belongings.

In hisroom was a suitcase of clothes, mostly underwear that had "Naked Cowboy" emblazoned in red, white and blue. Then there was his guitar, also painted like an American flag. Noticeable was a stack of papers, folders, and postcards, and a bunch of books. He picked up a book and handed it to me.

"Here," he said. "I read this book over 30 times already."

It was motivational speaker Anthony Robbins' "Awaken the Giant Within."

"It has really helped me focus, gain direction and plan out my goals," Burck told me.

"Really?" I said. "Cool. What kind of goals?"

"All kinds - personal, financial, spiritual...you name it. For instance, one of my goals is to be the wealthiest person who has ever lived."

"Huh. How's that going?" I asked.

Just then, his cell phone rang. He excused himself and answered it.

"March!" he exclaimed to the caller. "That's three months away. No telling where I'll be then."

Pause.

"I see. Well, I usually get a thousand bucks out there..."

Burck flipped through a notebook. There was a hand-drawn monthly calendar on each page.

"Okay," he said. "Well, why don't you give me a call closer to the date, but it sounds good. Okay, thanks. Bye."

He slid back on the bed and kicked up his feet.

"See that?" he asked. "Those people want me to go out to Long Island and hang out at their bar. They pay me a thousand bucks, I get an open bar tab and I take my girlfriend. Sweet."

He continued, "Only problem is, they want me for March. March! I don't live like that, man. I got all my belongings in the whole world right here and in my car. Tomorrow I head to Ohio; next week I'll be in New Orleans. Two months ago I was in Japan. How can I commit to March now?"

"That's my life - open," he mused. "I am free for the rest of my life."

Friends Forever
Just then, Burck lifted a bound stack of postcards from a pile. On the front of each was a picture of him with his guitar in Times Square. They were all filled out, addressed and stamped.

"You know what these are?" he asked. "These are for every person I have ever met in my life. My friends. I keep a list of every person I ever met, and every month I send everyone a postcard to say hello. And now you'll be on that list, too."

Suddenly I understood his local popularity. One woman at the Secaucus Post Office on Paterson Plank Road has a collection of photos of him on the wall. "He was just in here this morning," she had told me the week before. "What a nice man."

Burck continued talking about his post cards. "Check it out," he said, handing me a stack. "Over 1,400 a month. Get it?"

"Get what?" I asked.

"Look here," he said, redirecting my attention. "Have you seen the Naked Cowboy currency yet?"

He pulled out a stack of bills. Each one had "Naked Cowboy" stamped across it in light green.

"In the last eight months, I've put $46,000 into circulation," he said laughing. "Get it?"

Strangely, but slowly, I was starting to get it.

The man was branding himself. He was taking advantage of every bit of free publicity, notoriety, and acclaim he could get his hands on.

But what I couldn't figure out was if the dude was crazy or not. There was only one way to find out...

Is he crazy, or just naked?
The ride into New York City in the Naked Cowboy's truck was intriguing, to say the least.

I began with a few simple questions, the answers to which came back in a cult-like monotone, almost like a mantra that has been memorized and regurgitated over time.

"So, you mentioned goals," I started. "What exactly is th-"

Before I could finish, he said, "I will dominate the world's markets through the commercialization of the greatest product/service ever created - me."

"Oh, I see," I said. "Well, then how exactly do you plan to-"

"My image/name, message/prophecy, persona/character, and love/divinity, I will communicate so incredibly, that everyone/everything will seek to channel their missions/products through me."

I see, you ask a serious question, you get a serious answer.

"We're all connected," he continued, "and that is what I do. I connect with people, with every living thing, in everything I do."

Was he a brainwashed Tony Robbins fanatic, or just cultivating an image? It was time to mix it up a little.

"So then, do you like Star Wars?" I asked. This caught him off guard.

"Uh, Star Wars?" he said. "No, not into it. Why?"

"Well, you know, 'the force'... it surrounds us, binds us all - living and non-living..."

"Interesting," he said. "Sure, if I can use it, why not."

Ah ha! Now we were getting somewhere. If he can use it. I thought about it, and I saw his angle. Another question. "Are you a religious man?"

"Religious? Sure I am... I am God."

"You're God?"

"Yep, and so are you. We all are. We're all our own god, and you have to believe that in order to achieve and be who you are."

"Of course." I stubbed out my cigarette. The Lincoln Tunnel (from New Jersey to New York) was straight ahead and it was time to see the Naked Cowboy in action.

Be Who You Are (especially in New York City)
Robert John Burck was born in Cincinnati, Ohio. He graduated from the University of Cincinnati in 1995 with a degree in political science. He left Middle America in search of the American dream, hoping to become a super model. Like most naive youths, he wound up disappointed and frustrated.

Burck had a millisecond appearance on Baywatch and even scored a couple of shoots in Playgirl. He still has a photo portfolio that makes him look like every star from a young Robert Redford to a modern day Brad Pitt to a prime-time Kurt Russell. But it didn't get him far at first.

He used to have various "entertainment" businesses of his own where he might dance or strip, but never prostitute, he said. He even did the gay club circuit for a while, but it was the wrong direction. One time, he and his then-girlfriend Carla, also a stripper at the time, went on the Jerry Springer show posing as prostitutes just for the exposure. But it all led to nothing.

"One day in 1998, when I was out in Venice Beach, California," he said, "I was a bit bummed out with how things had been going for me out there, so I decided to go out on the pier with my guitar. I dressed like a cowboy and played a little bit, and I made about a dollar. No one even looked at me."

Then, Burck decided to take the advice of a friend and go out in nothing but his underwear. Suddenly people began to notice.

"I made $100 and a TV crew came out and filmed me," he said.

And so it began.

Burck went back home and pondered his existence. With the help of books and singing lessons, he started to put it all together. Tours across the country and back were frequent - Vegas, Nashville, New Orleans, Daytona, Jacksonville - stopping everywhere to drop trou and play a couple ditties he wrote called "Baby I'm Crazy," "Balls of Steel," and, of course, "Naked Cowboy."

Times Square, New York
"I am going to be the greatest success story of all time," Burck said as we pulled into the parking garage one block west of Times Square. He has a VIP spot - the very first spot as soon as you enter the lot. Everyone working in there knew him, waving him in with smiles on their faces.

He hopped out of the truck and went around to the back. Within 20 seconds in a Clark Kent-to-Superman type transformation, Robert Burck went from cowboy to Naked Cowboy.

Off went the sneakers and shorts. On went the boots and hat. He grabbed his guitar and was on his way. Before we even reached the street, people stopped and gawked, heads turning, fingers pointing.

"You got to be kidding me!" yelled a woman. "Where's a camera when you need one?"

Nude Dude
When the Cowboy arrived, a line of over 250 people alongside an adjacent Midtown theatre threw up a throng of cheers. Everyone was yelling, clapping, whistling - "I love you, Naked Cowboy!" and "You rock, baby!" Hot dog vendors, drivers and policemen stopped to look.

It was 16 degrees out, according to a flashing neon Times Square sign. (New York can be cold!)

"What about getting sick?" I asked lamely. "Don't you ever get sick?"

The Naked Cowboy looked at me and said, "Sick? Nope, I don't believe in it."

He crossed Seventh Avenue and crossed into his own immortality. The realm that existed in his own head became, in the middle of Manhattan, the world's reality as well.

New York Paparazzi
Immediately, the Naked Cowboy was mobbed by fans.

"Drop a dollar in the guitar," he directed. "You get two for a buck!" He turned his backside to the cameras, striking a pose with his head tilted back, guitar flared out, and muscles contracted, his arm curled in the air. Across the back of his tight white undies, it said, "Naked Cowboy" in red, white and blue.

With each fresh crossing of tourists, commuters and residents, his popularity built. People who have seen everything are still shocked to see a man in his briefs in the middle of Times Square.

A cameraman from the Daily News presented himself and grabbed a traffic cop to pose with him. Schoolgirls stuffed dollars into his boots, which have "TIPS" painted down the sides.

At one point, Burck momentarily declined requests for photos, reached into his guitar, and grabbed a bunch of dollar bills. He stepped into the crowd and reached out, grabbing a man and pulled him to the side. The man was homeless, dressed in tattered clothes.

The Naked Cowboy gave him the money, saying, "Get warm and stay well." The man was astonished. Twenty minutes had passed since we first stepped outside. Parts of the Naked Cowboy were turning blue. Finally, he tipped his hat to bid adieu. Still, people ran up and hugged him. "Just one more shot, please, I love you!" a woman wailed.

As we made our way back toward the garage, cars honked, drivers waved, and the Naked Cowboy grinned ear to ear.

"Well, that's one way to make living," a woman was overheard saying.

A street vendor turned to her. "Lady," he said, "I'm here every day, and I can tell you one thing - that man is a freaking genius."

Burck had earned $50 in 25 minutes. Earlier he had told me he could make over $1,000 in 10 hours on a summer day, only now I believed him.

Back at the Ranch
At the car, the Naked Cowboy hustled to get dressed.

"I've got nothing to prove anymore," he said. "When I can't feel my fingers anymore, it's time to go."

According to the Cowboy, that was day number 1,746 performing in Times Square. When I asked whether he considers himself a singer, model, actor, or street performer, he answered with none of the above.

"I am king of Planet Earth," he said.

Huh?

"You have to see the big picture here. I am going to be the wealthiest man this world has ever seen. I am going to do this 'til the day I die."

He added, "I have been on Leno, Letterman, Howard Stern...I flew out to Cali last month and shot a Pepsi commercial with Beyoncé. And I tell you what, the checks are rolling in."

"You know," I said, "You need an agent, or someone to keep tabs of the royalties and whatnot that's due you."

"Nah, man," he laughed. He pulled a manuscript from under his seat as we got back in the truck. "These are the Naked Cowboy Dialogues. You can read them on my website (www.NakedCowboy.com), but look right here." He thumbed to the middle. "Here, read that."

It was his mantra about commercialization, about marketing himself, and it stated that through profiting, he would also be stolen from.

"See that," he said. "I've already made room for that in my life. It's going to happen. But that's not the way I live. I have 24 hours a day to do whatever I want. I have a car, I have a bank account, I go where I want, I have what I need."

I sat in silence for a minute as the tunnel spat us back into Jersey.

"So I get it," I said. "Eventually all those checks will add up, and you'll be a millionaire through many smaller incomes, right?"

"No, you don't get it, man," he said. "It's not about the money. It's about being happy and making others happy. That's what today, and every day, is all about."

Skeptically, I sized up the man. I wondered what all the talk was about wealth and success if it didn't really matter to him. I wondered why I saw glimpses of a regular guy having fun mixed in with the fanatical sides of motivation and ambition. I wondered why I saw signs of a mild psychosis mixed in with pure genius. And then all at once, I realized something else.

This guy had balls.

He had some act. He was hilarious, in fact. The day had been a great adventure and experience for me, and the Naked Cowboy has one of those every day. Every person we saw that day was smiling and waving hello - in the middle of Manhattan!

We hopped out of the car, and Burck dumped some CDs and postcards on me.

"Pass 'em around," he said. I could only laugh. I understood the code.

"Naked Cowboy," I said, offering him my hand, "stay warm dude."

"Keep smiling," he said. "I'm sure I'll see you on the other side."

Yes, on the other side.

My First House on Columbia Road, N.W

Word of the day: temporize  \TEM-puh-ryze\ verb 1 : to act to suit the time or occasion : yield to current or dominant opinion.  2 : to draw out discussions or negotiations so as to gain time.

Leaf Update

I got a TRILLION leaves raked this past weekend only to find that at Midnight when I left Bristol headed back to DC it had been raining since I'd been in bed and all the leaves I'd raked was in vane.  The rain had caused just as many to drop again.  :-(

My friend Jaime, says I'm Sisyphus?  What would you think?  The part in RED only applies to me!  LOL

Sisyphus

Sisyphus is the son of Aeolus (the king of Thessaly) and Enarete, and founder of Corinth. He instituted, among others, the Isthmian Games. According to tradition he was sly and evil and used to way-lay travelers and murder them. He betrayed the secrets of the gods and chained the god of death, Thanatos, so the deceased could not reach the underworld. Hades himself intervened and Sisyphus was severely punished.

In the realm of the dead, he is forced to roll a block of stone against a steep hill, which tumbles back down when he reaches the top. Then the whole process starts again, lasting all eternity. His punishment was depicted on many Greek vases. He is represented as a naked man, or wearing a fur over his shoulders, pushing a boulder.

According to some sources, Sisyphus was the father of Odysseus by Anticlea, before she married Laertus. They also mention Theseus as the hero who freed the country of Sisyphus.

Back to Raking a BILLION leaves

WORD OF THE DAY:  nescience \NESH-ee-unss\ noun: lack of knowledge or awareness : ignorance. 

I'm glad to have learned this word.  So often my word of choice for this meaning is "niggardly".  However, the black community is so bent out of shape over its use.  An example of that discontent is on one occasion the mayor of Washington, DC used it in one of his addresses at a function and he was all but stoned in a city square.   He's a black man. 

I must have 1,000,000,000 leaves here in my yard and they're NOT fun to rake.

 

A Rattlesnake I Killed - He's the Granddaddy of 'em All

This was back in my "Butch" days.  I think I was about 20.  I ran over it with my pick-up truck.  Thats how I killed it.

Here We Go Again.......

Word of the Day:  fräu·lein   Pronunciation: 'froi-"lIn  Function: noun  Etymology: German, diminutive of Frau  1 capitalized : an unmarried German woman -- used as a title equivalent to Miss.  2 : a German governess

First, I'm happy to learn this word.  I've heard it used throughout country music. But didn't know of spelling.  Tonight while listening to Hank's Place on XM Radio here on AOL.  I learned its spelling and therefore looked up the definition and am pleasantly surprised to learn its meaning.

OK, Here we go again.  No, NOT as in the old Dolly Parton song, "Here You Come Again",

 

Job Hunting.   Why doesn't jobs seem to work out here for me this year?  This has got to have been the WORST year of my life.  What I firmly believe it is; is that I'm not doing what is in my heart and soul.  Part of which is being back in Bristol.  Back to the drawing board.

Perhaps this way 2006 will start out on a new and better foot.

Im Sad, Very Sad, Worried, and Anxious!

Today, I learned the company I just began working for is closing.  This worries me greatly!

This is how it happened.  Ab ovo, I've always taken my paychecks to the bank they're written on to cash them.  Small, "mom and pop" place I did it as a measure of caution.  I also turned down an offer of more money from DAI (www.dai.com ) because I was comfortable here in this job and my first full paycheck would not have been until December 10, 2005. Also the extra money wasn't that big of an attraction.

Signs leading up to this: 

1. A very heavy calendar until December and there were only 3 personal entries for the CEO.  2.  The office manager had to put his $9,000.00 ticket to Singapore, Zurich, Zagreb, Frankfurt, and Ludwigshafen on her credit card.  3.  Other items which because of their nature, I cannot disclose.

For the past three weeks, I've busted my ass preparing him for this trip.  I get everything together perfectly and he's ready to walk out the door for this 3 week trip.  Just as he stops before exiting, he stops me and the office manager and says Martin, come into my office a minute.  I do and he tells me this news.  Remember, he's on his way to Singapore to collect the remainder of a contract.  That balance being nearly $5,000,000.00.  LOVELY!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inquiring Minds Want to Know Brittany & Kevin

Brittany and Kevin Split.

OMG, It must have been his Trick and Treating escapade in Washington.  She didn't seem too chipper when she was escorted to her bus that Sunday afternoon.  Here's what the National Inquirer has to say:  http://www.nationalenquirer.com/celebrity/63456

Britney Spears walked out on party-loving hubby Kevin Federline the morning after sources say she sent her bodyguard to a nightclub to make sure he was being faithful.

Insiders told The National Enquirer that the 23-year-old pop princess — still battling the baby blues — ran home to her mom in Louisiana with six-week-old Sean.  There, the source says, she cried her eyes out over a deepening crisis in her marriage to Kevin, 27.  Despite the distance between them, the couple are then said to have had another blow-up.

Over the phone, Kevin allegedly told his wife he was too busy working on his new music to collect her and their son from the airport when she was ready to return some six days later.

The couple eventually came to an uneasy truce and Britney and the baby returned to California after a week away. But now, say sources, the arguing has put a terrible strain on the marriage — and they could be heading for a more permanent split. Britney is said to fear Kevin is reverting to the behavior that led him to leave his girlfriend Shar Jackson when she was pregnant with their second child.

Sources also claim that Kevin's Trick and Treating in Washington at Le Palais du Couchon didn't help matters much.  Click here for details:  http://journals.aol.com/amiamibeachman/TheseAreTheDaysofMyLife/entries/932

 

Rub It In

This Bed of Rose's - The Statler Brothers

If you read or listen to the lyrics of this song, it'll point out the hypocracies of the the "more desirables" of our society.

She was called a scarlet woman by the people

Who would go to church but left me in the street

With no parents of my own, I never had a home And an eighteen year old boy has got to eat.

She found me outside one Sunday morning Begging money from a man I didn't know

She took me in and wiped away my childhood

A woman of the streets this lady Rose.

Chorus:

This bed of Rose's that I lay on

Where I was taught to be a man

This bed of Rose's where I'm livin'

Is the only kind of love I understand.

She was a handsome woman, just thirty-four

Who was spoken to in town by very few

She managed a late evening business

Like most of the town wished they could do.

And I learned all the things that a man should know

From a woman not approved of I suppose

But she died knowing that I really loved her

Off life's bramble bush, I picked a rose.

Chorus:

This bed of Rose's that I lay on

Where I was taught to be a man

This bed of Rose's where I'm livin' Is the only kind of love I understand.

Chorus:

This bed of Rose's that I lay on

Where I was taught to be a man This bed of Rose's where I'm livin' Is the only kind of love I understand...

 

Remember Prince Charles? I wonder...

Over the past few months I've observed some things that are "just not right", meaning what he's telling me as a freind, doesn't seem to be wholly consistent.  I've not said anything about it to him.  Early on, I didn't pay much attention to it.  But over time more and more didn't quite add up.  Its the little things that really wouldn't make a difference to you nor me.   Things you remember not being kosher, but never remember what it was specifically.  However, for me, over time those little things add up to be noticeable.  I don't know what he has going on but I can only go by what he tells me.  Granted its none of my business, it does however make me uneasy thinking he may not be being forthright and straightforward. One example, he says he needs money.  I offered him a couple of chores to do for me, for which I'd pay him.  He couldn't do them.  The chores were cleaning around inside my house in Bristol. It was such an easy task and for him not to want to do it, told me he didnt REALLY need the money.

 

ALARMING, at Least! Reported in The Washington Post 11/5/05

The FBI's Secret Scrutiny In Hunt for Terrorists, Bureau Examines Records of Ordinary Americans

By Barton Gellman - Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, November 6, 2005; Page A01

The FBI came calling in Windsor, Conn., this summer with a document marked for delivery by hand. On Matianuk Avenue, across from the tennis courts, two special agents found their man. They gave George Christian the letter, which warned him to tell no one, ever, what it said.

Under the shield and stars of the FBI crest, the letter directed Christian to surrender "all subscriber information, billing information and access logs of any person" who used a specific computer at a library branch some distance away. Christian, who manages digital records for three dozen Connecticut libraries, said in an affidavit that he configures his system for privacy. But the vendors of the software he operates said their databases can reveal the Web sites that visitors browse, the e-mail accounts they open and the books they borrow.

Homeland Security

• Security Plans Often Overdue
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• Va. Federal Prosecutor Picked for Justice Post
• FBI Lags In Security Overhaul, Report Says

Christian refused to hand over those records, and his employer, Library Connection Inc., filed suit for the right to protest the FBI demand in public. The Washington Post established their identities -- still under seal in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 2nd Circuit -- by comparing unsealed portions of the file with public records and information gleaned from people who had no knowledge of the FBI demand.

The Connecticut case affords a rare glimpse of an exponentially growing practice of domestic surveillance under the USA Patriot Act, which marked its fourth anniversary on Oct. 26. "National security letters," created in the 1970s for espionage and terrorism investigations, originated as narrow exceptions in consumer privacy law, enabling the FBI to review in secret the customer records of suspected foreign agents. The Patriot Act, and Bush administration guidelines for its use, transformed those letters by permitting clandestine scrutiny of U.S. residents and visitors who are not alleged to be terrorists or spies.

The FBI now issues more than 30,000 national security letters a year, according to government sources, a hundredfold increase over historic norms. The letters -- one of which can be used to sweep up the records of many people -- are extending the bureau's reach as never before into the telephone calls, correspondence and financial lives of ordinary Americans.

Issued by FBI field supervisors, national security letters do not need the imprimatur of a prosecutor, grand jury or judge. They receive no review after the fact by the Justice Department or Congress. The executive branch maintains only statistics, which are incomplete and confined to classified reports. The Bush administration defeated legislation and a lawsuit to require a public accounting, and has offered no example in which the use of a national security letter helped disrupt a terrorist plot.

The burgeoning use of national security letters coincides with an unannounced decision to deposit all the information they yield into government data banks -- and to share those private records widely, in the federal government and beyond. In late 2003, the Bush administration reversed a long-standing policy requiring agents to destroy their files on innocent American citizens, companies and residents when investigations closed. Late last month, President Bush signed Executive Order 13388, expanding access to those files for "state, local and tribal" governments and for "appropriate private sector entities," which are not defined.

National security letters offer a case study of the impact of the Patriot Act outside the spotlight of political debate. Drafted in haste after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, the law's 132 pages wrought scores of changes in the landscape of intelligence and law enforcement. Many received far more attention than the amendments to a seemingly pedestrian power to review "transactional records." But few if any other provisions touch as many ordinary Americans without their knowledge.

Senior FBI officials acknowledged in interviews that the proliferation of national security letters results primarily from the bureau's new authority to collect intimate facts about people who are not suspected of any wrongdoing. Criticized for failure to detect the Sept. 11 plot, the bureau now casts a much wider net, using national security letters to generate leads as well as to pursue them. Casual or unwitting contact with a suspect -- a single telephone call, for example -- may attract the attention of investigators and subject a person to scrutiny about which he never learns.

A national security letter cannot be used to authorize eavesdropping or to read the contents of e-mail. But it does permit investigators to trace revealing paths through the private affairs of a modern digital citizen. The records it gathers describe where a person makes and spends money, with whom he lives and lived before, how much he gambles, what he buys online, what he pawns and borrows, where he travels, how he invests, what he searches for and reads on the Web, and who telephones or e-mails him at home and at work.

As it wrote the Patriot Act four years ago, Congress bought time and leverage for oversight by placing an expiration date on 16 provisions. The changes involving national security letters were not among them. In fact, as the Dec. 31 deadline approaches and Congress prepares to renew or make permanent the expiring provisions, House and Senate conferees are poised again to amplify the FBI's power to compel the secret production of private records.

The House and Senate have voted to make noncompliance with a national security letter a criminal offense. The House would also impose a prison term for breach of secrecy.

Like many Patriot Act provisions, the ones involving national security letters have been debated in largely abstract terms. The Justice Department has offered Congress no concrete information, even in classified form, save for a partial count of the number of letters delivered. The statistics do not cover all forms of national security letters or all U.S. agencies making use of them.

"The beef with the NSLs is that they don't have even a pretense of judicial or impartial scrutiny," said former representative Robert L. Barr Jr. (Ga.), who finds himself allied with the American Civil Liberties Union after a career as prosecutor, CIA analyst and conservative GOP stalwart. "There's no checks and balances whatever on them. It is simply some bureaucrat's decision that they want information, and they can basically just go and get it."

Click on this link for the complete article:  http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/11/05/AR2005110501366.html

If you're unable to access the Washington Post report, email me at AMiamiBeachMan@aol.com.

Bristol VA Utilities Board

WORD OF THE DAY:  ab ovo\ab-ovo\ In the beginning.

OK,  That damn Bristol, VA Utilities Board is ANNOYING at least.  I can't believe it!  Ab ovo from when I purchased this house here in Bristol, VA; I've yet to receive a statement.  They've been given the proper address on more occasions than I can recall, have still yet NEVER ONCE received a bill.  I get home late last night at 3:00am and a notice is on my door they turned off my electricity and I was pissed.  To add insult to injury, I no more than get in bed in my cold house then I hear a knocking at my door and a bright light on the wall of windows in my bedroom.  I then see someone run past and low and behold, its a policeman.  The neighbor woman, had called the police thinking someone was in my house.  Yes I'm grateful for her keeping an eye on my property because I'm always gone.  But this is a double-edged sword that had a "nosey" element on one of its side.  I suppose its my being a city boy where I live 24hours and this is a quiet country town where people occupy themselves too much with what I deem as not worthwhile and microminded ideas and 'gossip".

When I got to BVUB, today I learned they charge me $28.15 each month just for them being there.  Then I learn they disconnect people after 25days delinquency, and the after another 5 days close the account.  This is unsettling to me in terms of the poor who make up a large part of their customer base. These are predominantly people who live on Social Security, disability, and/or other types of public assistance.  When they close the account they require deposits from everyone. In my mind, this amounts to nothing more than a SCAM, and a BIG ONE.  To top it all off, they provide Water, Sewer, Garbage, and Electricity,  What in the fuck does my tax dollars go to?  I'd really like to know.  Because I see NO city bus services, no mass transit, etc.  I'm going to find out and when I do, if what I find out isn't "kosher", then I'm going to be rattling some of the cages and a bird or two might just fly out.

I dont feel good today

Brittany Spears Live

BRITTANY SPEARS LIVE AT LE PALAIS DU COUCHON!

BATHHOUSE NAZI AWOL!

A picture is worth a thousand words they say, but unfortunately in this case, regrettably, I don't have one.  Thats actually a good thing as I want to be able to discuss freely here on my blog without comprimising myself or anyone else in any way, shape, or form.  As you read this post, you'll understand why.

Last weekend Brittany Spears happened to be passing by Washington, DC from venue to venue and decided to stop in and give everyone at Le Palais du Couchon, one of those impromptu gratis shows.  You know the kind that entertainers don't allow to be publicized.  Brittany has been in the media so much lately from roping that Federline hubby to popping that young-in so she decided to give herself and that instant family a breather from all the hoop-la and holler by doing a few special numbers to guests at Le Palais du Couchon.  Somehow all the recent media coverage of her combined with Siegel's possible new "Gay Disneyland" (you know she was once a Mousketeer) was too much for her tiny brain to process so her hard drive got hung on "Ooops, I Did It Again"!  She sang that song all night long and the crowd of tweakers young and old alike kept screaming for more.  So there it was you had an entire weekend of "round the clock" Ooops!  Being the artist Brittany is, she sure knows how to keep the crowd's attention from waning.  Since she sang only one song, she performed it in her Coal Miner's Daughter public disguise (lovely Loretta Lynn wig), then there was the Mary Katherine Gallagher cheerleader in pink version,  the Cheryl Tiegs version using a substitute Dolly Parton wig she won from eBay.  Then the audience at the Palais was so out of control when she did the "moo-moo" version of Ooops!  The staff was worried they were going to have to call in the DC guard.  I'm just glad I wasn't Peter who was on duty when she did that "moo-moo" version.  It was just simply TOO MUCH for any one man alone in terms of crowd control.  He made the right decision by calling in the entire staff for crowd control.  Even at that, they really needed more security, especially for Brittany and that baby she had nursing while performing the "moo-moo". 

As for Mr. Federline, he was safe and sound, going door-to-door getting in a little pre-Halloween "Trick and Treating".  His favorite streets were Miss Universe Avenue, Love Shack Boulevard, Love Shack Cul de Sac, and Couchon Run.  He said he hit 40 doors (I don't understand how he did that, when there were only 39 houses,  maybe he did one twice). 

Ok, enough for him.  Back to Brittany, she's the "superstar", "pop princess"  anyhow.  She was so nice to finish off the weekend by agreeing to shoot her new, and very soon to be released "Brittany Spears Bathhouse Workout Video"  Yep, you guessed it correctly.  She did it all in the gym of "Le Palais du Couchon".  I suppose that speaks to the extravagant selection of facilitites the place has.  She'd lift weights, press benches, and lift her legs for a bit.  Take a breather and hit the sauna to warm up more only to return to shoot more footage of the video.  I just can't wait to get my own copies.  Note I make that plural! 

I can only imagine how entertaining and seductive it will be especialy with all that black iron, chrome steel, mirrors on every wall reflecting every bead of sweat on Brittany's glabrous body.   Not forgetting all the Guatemalan Cooties running frantically all over the gym floor.   She'd carried those cooties into the gym from the video room where she'd been trying to view her just shot takes to see how they're turning out.  One time another famous entertainer had stopped by and her personal assistant Consquilla had carried those damn cooties all the way from Guatemala as a special gift to Flutie.  Never telling anyone they procreated faster than any Mexican jackrabbit you could find in the Andes.  Comes to find out the gestation period for those Guatemalian Cooties is 2 minutes.  That was faster than some of the come-quickly's I know of.  Needlesstosay, when you open the door to enter, you have to fight off a stampede of cooties frantically running everywhere and going nowhere.  These things are big, black, and bout the size of a small cellular phone. One of those cooties got in Brittany's thing where it was dialated from birthing that "young-in" and she had to dig, stroke, and poke to get it out.  That was NOT a pretty sight. 

Like all good things, it must come to an end.  When it did, Brittany was escorted out the secret entrance and to her Prevost parked just outside.  All the fans waved their feet and screamed, moaned, and groaned as she rode away into Sunday's evening sunset to anotherscheduled show.

History on Brittany:  She is an  81 year-old transvestite who has little understanding of what femininity and womanhood is about.  He seemed to only know that its something he likes to do and wishes he'd done it earlier in life.  He now is experimenting with this interest and is basking in the attention he gets.  I'm sure most of it is negative attention, but for me, I'm not writing this with mean spirit but, instead with love and positive support for his courage and willingness to do at age 81 what others will never do in their lives eventhough they crave to.  I say; God bless! YOU GO GURL!

Had the Bathhouse Nazi been around, he'd be quelling all the fun since he's crashing from his girlfriend, Tina Tripp (Linda Tripp's cousin by marriage) and nowadays has a personality of MAYONNAISE!  Not Hellman's REAL Mayonnaise, but the Kraft's knock-off.