#264 - Taking the Fun Out of Fiction

Christian groups are planning a boycott of the upcoming "Da Vinci Code" film, and all I can say is:

"Blecch."

Which syllable of the word "fiction" do they not understand?

Of course, many who would participate in this boycott are the same ones who object to the "Harry Potter" series on religious grounds. Never mind that many of us enjoy it for the sheer story-telling aspect of it; it propounds the existence of magic and could lead people into Satanism. (Grossly oversimplified version of the argument, but I think that's the salient point.)

Likewise, some Christians find it to be blasphemous in the extreme to front an idea that Jesus allegedly married Mary Magdalene, had children, and spawned the greatest cover-up in world history; all perpetrated by the Catholic church in its attempt to control the minds and hearts of their believers.

All those who believe everything in Dan Brown's book, please stand up.

[takes count]

Ok. Now, of those standing, how many of you also pay actual money for "National Enquirer?"

[did no one sit down?]

Thought so.

The simple fact is that the only people whose opinions might be swayed in favor of the Code's theories are the same ones gullible enough to follow every conspiracy theory ever fronted by caffeine-addicted insomniacs. Most of the rest of us, whose testimonies of the Gospel remain firmly intact, are less likely to be "offended" by this film's premise.

We reserve the right, of course, to become highly offended if they don't follow the book closely enough to lend credence to the film. That, in my mind, would be a truly excommunicable offense.

The film happens to open on the weekend that Mrs. Woody and I will be celebrating our TENTH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY. We already have tickets for Friday morning.

We'll let you know if we find any protestors.

P.S. Don't tell the activists: Kids today are more likely to find their faith challenged in the classroom than they are in "Harry Potter." We'll just keep that our little secret, okay?

#263 - World Out of Balance Report (Updated)

More worrisome than Britney Spears marrying Kevin Federline (or anyone, for that matter), is that they are reproducing.

More worrisome than that is the fact that anyone cares.

(H/T Dave Barry)

UPDATE

So it turns out the whole announcement thing was a hoax. No less a national security expert than Matt Lauer was fooled, too.

Too bad Britney herself isn't merely a hoax.

Oh, wait...

#262 - AnoelleB Has Questions!

AnoelleB of Burrhouse has questions regarding yesterday's boycott and "the whole 'Immigrant Debate.'"

I've largely avoided getting too wordy about this issue, since I, like so many others, know innumerable Latino aliens who are good, honest people. Knowing them and interacting with them makes it easy to somehow overlook the fact that they are (to use my sister's words) flouting the laws of this country.

She asks these questions with pointed looks towards her two older brothers, both of whom just happen to be members of the 101st Fighting KeyBees. With that challenge, I herewith present my Male Answer Syndrome-induced rejoinders:

First of all, what is it about the current legal procedure for immigration that makes it so difficult? Money? Resistance from their home governments? Takes too long? Is the process somehow otherwise really really difficult? Money doesn't make sense, because it seems many stories of illegal immigration involve giving your life savings - thousands of dollars - over to some creepy person who will smuggle you into the country if they don't kill you first. Government resistance would suggest that those government should then shut up about the way we're treating any immigrants. Or ask for them back. Or something. Does anybody know the process well enough to explain it to me?

'Fraid not. I don't really understand it all that well myself. I do know that the "process" (whatever that may be) is lengthy, tiresome, expensive, and requires some level of cooperation between governments. For that reason alone many choose to cross the borders without all the legal hassles.

Part Two of your question requires a little stroking of semantics. Don't confuse "government" with the politicians that administer them. In the case of Mexico, the "official" government position is to be tough on immigration. On a personal, political level, however, Vicente Fox is just fine with the idea that 12 million of his people are here illegally. There's a very practical reason for this: Mexico is the direct beneficiary of billions of US dollars annually. Many of those dollars come not from NAFTA or other commerce opportunities; they come from a significant portion of 12 million latinos who work here and send large portions of their income "home." I'm not saying that these people are in any way dishonorable. I'm just saying we ("we," he says) are sending Mexico a LOT of dollars. And the US dollar has always had way more clout than the peso, especially in Mexico.

Next question: Please tell me that there aren't really truly 1.1 million people who think they're entitled to free Status Change after having flouted the law (even if only just one) for however long they've been here. Is that really what they're rallying for? A total free ride? Or am I missing something? I really hope (and trust) I'm missing something.

Um... I believe the number is closer to the 12 million I mentioned above. And, yes, if they're in this country now - legally or otherwise - they believe they are "entitled" to citizenship. Read on:

How does making them all felons solve anything? Do we even have the resources to track down every illegal immigrant, round 'em up, imprison them and deport them? And is that really what this legislation is proposing? It seems nonsensical. Wouldn't it be cheaper - even just a little - to provide a second chance at going through the proper channels for citizenship? Again, I feel I'm missing something. Something huge. Stronger borders? How will that even work?

Was I really supposed to feel crushed by not having access to Mexican food for one day?

Heh. I know I didn't miss anything yesterday. If anything, I was enjoying "holiday light" conditions on the 22 freeway. On the other hand:

The "criminalizing" of these aliens (a redundancy, no?) will not solve anything. Let's assume, for example, that by some miracle this legislation gets pushed through. Suddenly we've officially labelled 12 million people as felons, subject to immediate deportation (or worse). There's just one catch. How on earth do you suddenly deport 12 million people? You don't. In fact, trusting that it will be business as usual, all of the agencies (including our own dear Deputy Dan) who deal with such things will continue to be overworked, and will only deport people that they catch in the commission of an actual crime (I mean, besides the crime of not being an American in America). In other words, changing their status from "illegal" to "felon" will effectively change nothing.

The only proviso that I would make in clearing a path for citizenship for these folks is that, now that they're here and want "citizenship," they must abide by ALL conditions of citizenship. This means becoming and defending the right to be "Americans." If they don't want to become Americans, they really shouldn't be sponging off of us.

As for stronger borders, I count myself as a strong proponent of them. The only problem is, we've only ever had lip service from our Washington bleaters who want to sound tough without torquing off their Latino voter base. It's a sad dance, and one that probably means that once we grant citizenship to this current batch of 12 million, another 24 million will push for their own chances to come north and make this country el Estado de Mexico Norte.

And the Lefties will be right there, egging them on; because, you know, we deserve it and all.

And then I guess the last of my questions (that I can think of right now, anyway) is this: How is it that it's the LEFT who are such major supporters of all these demonstrations? Aren't these the same people who think America's not worth fighting for? That we're such a crappy nation that we deserve to be attacked? Now they're telling all the world "we're so great you should come here and grab your measure of The American Dream. Free for the taking!" Or is it that they're hoping to grant voting privileges to the very grateful millions? Yeah, that makes sense, come to think of it.

Correct on both counts. It's actually not so much that they feel America is a crappy nation (don't you dare question their patriotism!) as that they propound the complete oppression of everyone but the rich by the Republican-empowered government. It's a complete load of hogwash, of course, (how many poor Democrat politicians do you know?) but they need a meme or their very existence is suspect. Does oppression of people occur in this country? Certainly. Is it the Republicans' fault? Just try to prove it. In fact, the more liberal factions of our country are nearly completely to blame for our societal self-destructive tendencies by preaching an irresponsible narcissism to increasingly gullible generations of young Americans. So, their tactic is to tear down the more character-building aspects of our society, preach oppression to impressionable voters and potential voters, then seal the deal by eliminating our constitutional form of government in favor of a "one world order." If they can accomplish that, then democracy and, more significantly, our republican (not "Republican") form of government is dead.

My bottom line: we should never allow anyone but legitimate voting citizens of this country to tell us how to govern our affairs.

Cam?

#261 - Most Significant Contribution of Yesterday's Boycott

Traffic in Orange County was a breeze.

Your Cranky Reviewer's Been Busy! Today, An Excoriation of Il Divo!

[This is cross-posted at my own blog.]

Take a close look:






You only think you're seeing four dapper gentlemen. In reality, what you're looking at are Il Divo, the four latest flag holders of the Celebration of the Death of Western Music.

A few months ago I wrote a lengthy review - well, more of an assassination, really - of Il Divo's Christmas album. I called it, "easily the most obnoxious, arrogant, infuriating Christmas album that has yet been produced," and, at least until "Il Divo's Further Violations of The Christ Child: The Christmas Album 2!" appears, I remain convinced of the correctness of my opinion.

Why do I dislike them so? I've spent, unfortunately, a lot of time thinking about this since every time an album has appeared (they're up to three. THREE!), said album gets played all day, every day, for a full freakin' month at the place of my employment. This gives me ample time and reason to muse on the subjects of taste, music, and personal artistic preference.

Let me say at the outset that I realize that mine is a minority opinion. Many people who are far more generous in their opinions than I am simply adore the music, and I can't hold my friends' opinions against them since I also know I like things like this . . .



. . . and this . . .



. . . and this (albeit not for musical reasons). . .



. . . that make my friends think that I'm either a mean-spirited bastage (for not liking Il Divo), or a complete fruitcake (for liking what I actually do like). And I'm cool with that. Having spent so much time mocking the personal musical preferences of others, I'm more than game to be mocked myself. I can listen to "Dancing Queen" several times in a row, fer pete's sake (it's that bass line!), so I'm aware that my taste ain't The Bomb.

But I will argue to my dying day that Il Divo sucks.

The question has come up, in these silent, angry conversations I have with myself (Lord, I hope they're silent) when I'm trying to stock the shelves of Barnes & Noble with literary crap while the music department insists on playing musical crap, "Now, just why is it I think they suck?"

It's hard to explain, but only because mine is a disorganized mind. Still, I'll do my best. Bear with me.

Imagine taking three famous poems. Let's say The Wasteland by T. S. Eliot:

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
(etc).

Shakespeare's Fair Is My Love:

Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle;
Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty;
Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle;
Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty:
A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her;
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.
(etc.)

and Sylvia Plath's Edge:

. . . She has folded

Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden

Stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.

The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.

She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.

and then thinking that you could make a few bucks by just kind of repackaging them.

"Nobody's into this stuff anymore," you say. "Some bells and whistles, and maybe some fiddling with the arrangements, and I'll make millions!"

So you take all three poems and you work them up to sell to modern tastes. First you take Eliot and you change things a bit so that The Wasteland now reads:

[quietly] Roses are red. :(
[loudly] Violets are blue! :0
[quietly] Bah bah bah BAH bah ;)
[extra loudly] BAH BAH BAH BOO! >:0

And then you take Shakespeare's Fair Is My Love and come up with:

[quietly] Roses are red. :(
[loudly] Violets are blue! :0
[quietly] Bah bah bah BAH bah ;)
[extra loudly] BAH BAH BAH BOO! >:0

And, finally, you rework Plath's Edge so it becomes an easier to swallow:

[quietly] Roses are red. :(
[loudly] Violets are blue! :0
[quietly] Bah bah bah BAH bah ;)
[extra loudly] BAH BAH BAH BOO! >:0

And then, after having taken several disparate styles of poetry and making them all sound completely alike you add a mother[censored] drum machine, have the [bad word deleted] things recited by four good lookin' guys, making sure each guy gets to recite one line before having them all repeat the last line together in a ridiculous orgy of spleen- and bladder-exploding SOUND(!), and, finally, just to make sure it gets bought by every dumbass yahoo on the planet, you have these four guys do their [censored] [censored!] schtick on [REALLY CENSORED!] Oprah, who frankly has no critical faculty to speak of and who apparently loves everything she sees and hears.

That's kind of what everyone associated with Il Divo (and, by collusion, network television's very own Cthulhu: Oprah) does to classical music. And this horrific and unnecessary plastic surgery; this crass, criminal mutilation of otherwise beautiful music (um, in most cases - some of the songs are frankly helpless to begin with), is being helped along by people who should by freakin' golly know better.

Worse, it gets sold in amazingly large quantities.

Aw, hell, I tell myself. Andy Warhol is still called an "artist" in spite of all evidence to the contrary, so what do I know?

Apparently, I either I know too much or not enough.

But I'll say this again: Il Divo sucks.

#260 - 101st Fighting Keyboardists

I'm always an advocate of never taking one's self so seriously that we drown in our own bile. Those who have followed the Woundup over the past several months know that I am anything but serious. Seriously.

So when Ed Morrisey and others announced their intent to take some of the more curious "epithets" hurled at them (and other conservative bloggers) and turn them into a statement of intent for right-minded bloggers, I was all for it.

Consequently, I have asked to join the rolls of the 101st. Although I do not personally have the demeanor of a fighter, I like to think of myself as being firmly committed to the war on terror.

Those of us who don't fight in the theater of operations become easy targets of the snarkier breed of left-wing orators. We must be cowards, they opine, or merely hypocrites to state that we "support the troops" without daring to bloody our own hands. Or, worse, to send our youngsters to their seemingly inevitable deaths whilst saving our own sorry fannies here at home.

Hogwash.

The war on terror is a war fought on many fronts. Here at home the price of freedom is vigilance and awareness. We need to constantly remind our representative government that we do not accept complacence at home any more than we would tolerate it in the field. Sometimes, we need to remind our neighbors that the fight is real, even as they scoff against our foreign policies. They don't need the war, mind you, in order to scoff. They'd scoff anyway; simply because a Republican sits in the Oval Office, and it galls them.

We, of course, reserve the right to scoff if one of theirs ever makes it back to that office any time soon.

Fight on, KeyBees!

#259 - Madam, I Hope That Pig Paid Full Passage! (Updated)

Even for Airbus, this would have been a stretch.

The report had come out yesterday (that is to say, I heard about it yesterday, which probably means it's been out for a few days now), and was probably fueled in part by rising oil prices driving the demand for more mass transportation. I bought into it at first. I was even ready to help Airbus with their new ad campaign:

Airbus: Your Chicken Bus in the Sky

I don't see the "standing room only" concept ever really taking off with airlines; pun intended. For one thing, most folks would be awfully tired after taxiing on the runway for three hours before their 45 minute flight. For another, I can imagine the slight G-loads on takeoff being a bit much for even the average traveller.

As a Guatemalan chicken bus veteran, I can tell you that airlines got nuthin' on your average Guatemalan bus driver. (Note to liberal readers of this blog: these comments do NOT equal racism. These are recollections of one who was there - albeit 28 years ago - risking his life to spread the Gospel.)

Bus drivers in Guatemala typically drove in two styles: overcrowded and slow enough to be passed by Congress [rim shot], or overcrowded and fast enough to qualify at Daytona. The Daytona variety of driver was able to pull G-loads you only get in your average F-18 with afterburners. In fact, the Daytona drivers were generally responsible for sending the Congressional drivers to the bottom of various barrancos in our area.

So, even if Airbus were to offer standing room passage on their planes, I remain unimpressed. Now, when they begin strapping passengers on top of the plane with a basket of chickens fresh from the market, then I'll be impressed.

UPDATE:

Just in case you ever make it to Guatemala and you wish to experience, first hand, the thrills of the local bus routes, here's the list:

Congressional Drivers:

Rutas Momostecas - "Tacos" we called 'em. These buses were the slooooowest things moving in the country. They were regularly passed by diseased cattle, or Mayan women carrying 50 pounds of groceries on top of their heads. Passengers frequently got out and pushed to help the bus get there faster. This is the bus I rode on top of whenever there were too many chickens inside the bus.

Daytona Drivers:

Ruta Morelliana - Morelliana drivers were evaluated based on relative sanity. The more insane the driver, the longer the route he was given to drive. The idea was to get the passengers to Guatemala City in the shortest amount of time possible, preferably an hour before they departed from the other side of the country. Dirt roads were seen as acceleration ramps. The only times I've ever seen Mormon missionaries cross themselves were when they boarded a Morelliana during Semana Santa (Holy Week, preceding Easter Sunday), when the insane drivers also drink local moonshine by the gallon. We used to take this bus to a place called Cuatro Caminos ("Four Roads") in order to catch a slower bus into Quetzaltenango. If the driver thought he was behind schedule, he'd slow to sub-warp speed and eject us. Through a window, if necessary.

I have very fond memories of Guatemalan mass transit.

#258 - Drawing Dilbert Does Not a Philosopher Make

I have learned many things from Scott Adams over the years. I have learned that the company I work for has had moles reporting to Scott regularly over the last fifteen years. I have learned that Human Resources is every bit as evil as the Illuminati. And now I have learned never to look for religion in the comments section of a blog.

As a philosopher, Scott makes a decent cartoonist. I've noticed, having now read his books, that once you get past your own cynicism the books are no longer relevant. I had started reading his blog once upon a time, but it, too, has fallen into the irrelevant column. His recent posts on religion and prophets are really just symptomatic; Scott is looking for his next great crusade, since I suspect he now realizes that lampooning stupidity in the workplace isn't likely to survive into his own presumed retirement.

I still want to say I enjoy Dilbert, but so much of his material these days is recycled from earlier gags.

*sigh*

I've been with my company long enough now (22 years this month!) to understand that people give off very distinct signs that they should retire. They just have that "I really need to be put out to pasture" essence about them. Dilbert has begun to show his own pasturability of late, and I think it's time I cut him loose from my daily reads. He just isn't that funny anymore.

I just hope FoxTrot stays cool for a while longer.

#257 - Death to Universal Preschool!

Joanne Jacobs has the account of strange bedfellows on this issue.

Here's my bottom line: If you...

1. want to abdicate control over your child's education sooner,


2. like the idea of growing an already bloated educational bureaucracy,


3. wish to see an already understocked pool of teachers become more depleted, or


4. think anything that Rob Reiner supports actually works as designed,

...then, by all means, vote "Yes" for Proposition 82.

Otherwise, do us all a favor and shoot this one down before it wastes any more oxygen.

#256 - The Code is Cracked

Little Miss Attila now understands how political parties draft their platforms.

If you say it enough times, it will come true.

#255 - The Road to Educational H---

I haven't read much from Kimberly at Number 2 Pencil lately, although I am at a complete loss to tell you why. Kimberly does a wonderful job of pointing out the absurdities of modern American education, and her latest post is another sterling example.

The story regards an attempt to teach kids about the Holocaust by handing out stars to about half of the students. Those with stars were "Jews" who were then ostracized throughout the day by the rest of the students. At least, that's what I got out of the experiment, reading between the lines. One kid even went home, crying, and telling his father, "Daddy, I was a Jew today!"

These kinds of immersion experiments are nearly always well intentioned. In my day, it was the classic "kids with blue eyes are less intelligent" scenario, which always gave kids who happened to have blue eyes inferiority complexes for the rest of their natural lives. Either that, or humongous chips on their shoulders. I happen to be married to a very blue-eyed beauty, who also just happens to have both a Bachelor's and a Master's degree in education. I guess she ruins the whole curve thing, hm?

Anyway, I understand where the educators are coming from. It's an attempt to make something that happened long ago (especially from these kids' perspectives) "come alive" through a current application of the principles involved. In this case, extreme prejudice and race superiority.

My take? The "old Indian proverb" about walking in another man's moccasins requires another element which is unspoken, but absolutely necessary before making the attempt: one must first want to have that experience, or the whole lesson is lost. In this case, several kids were nearly traumatized by being forced to carry around a ridiculous star and having to pretend to be a down-trodden race. Add to this mix those kids who already feel down-trodden at school (I used to be one of those), and you have just inadvertently taught those kids to never willingly participate in another role-playing activity again. Ever.

According to the reporter covering the story, school principal Douglas Guthrie "admitted that he would do some things differently in the exercise because of complaints but said some kids got the message."

Some kids. But not all. Nor, apparently, did the educators in this case "get the message." The principal claims that, while sparking controversy, it also sparked conversation. "We have now heard from about a dozen parents (who are) very upset," he said.

I suspect those conversations had little to do with what a wonderful learning experience their kids had just had.

Cameron, humbled, thanks Barnes & Noble

You will recall that a couple of days ago I wrote a letter to Barnes & Noble. What you didn't know is that I actually sent that letter to Barnes & Noble. I wondered if anything would come of it, and lo:

You are absolutely correct. Under the Banner of Heaven should never have been included with the Easter display we are glad you took the time to bring this to our attention. It was an oversight on the buyers end, and we hope you accept our apologies. It is never our intention to insult our customers or our Booksellers.

There is a message that went out on BN.Inside today instructing the stores to remove the title from the Easter table and place it in Trade Paperback Favorites.

Cameron, thank you again for your email. If I can be of any assistance in the future, please do not hesitate to contact me directly.

My reply was:

Thank you, both for the response to my letter and for your actions regarding my complaint.

I frankly regret the tone of my letter: had I counted to ten first before clicking "send" I'd have made sure to soften it up a bit.

To be perfectly honest, right now I'm feeling very, very humble.

And that's always a good thing, ain't it?

Thank you again.

Cameron Wood
Store 2751

And I really do feel quite humble, since I know perfectly well that there was never any reason for me to be so dang persnickety in that letter.

That's always been my problem, especially as a blogger and correspondent: I don't wait long enough before publishing.

Non So Cranky Review at Way Off Bass UPDATED!

I'd normally post it here, but I use the "P" word. Also, I'm testing out my new template over there.

Okay - "P" word removed, poem fixed, and it is now family-friendly fare, I suppose.

Also, My Good Friday through Easter Poem Bonanza is up. Enjoy! It's becoming a yearly tradition.

#254 - Don't Forget the Gravy!

Via Dave Barry's blog comes this jewel. The basic scenario is this: You drive up to your favorite fast food drive through window, and talk, as usual, to the disembodied voice in the speaker. By the time you drive around to the window, your order is billed, and delivered to you as always. The twist is, the person with whom you spoke was nowhere near the restaurant at the time. He or she was in a call center somewhere near Los Angeles, processing your order and transmitting it electronically back to the burger flippers.

I can see where this might promote some efficiencies in the ordering of my fast food, but I have two concerns:

1. What do they do when the network goes down, as it inevitably will when I order a meal for my incredibly hungry family and the next fast food joint is another 35 miles down the freeway?

"I'm sorry, sir. We didn't get your order. The network is down."

"Well, can I just order it here and wait a few more minutes?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. We're not allowed to accept walk-ins in drive-through."

Yeah. I want some of that action.

2. You just know it's a matter of time before this call center idea becomes a prime candidate for outsourcing.

"Hello, and welcoming to the Jack of the Box. We are not knowing what this means, but we are wanting to takes your order, sir."

"Um, okay. How about a burger and fries?"

"Yes, sir. You are wanting a burka and flies. Will you be liking any sauces with that?"

Beyond the anticipation of dealing with a call center, there's the issue of multi-tasking. According to the article, this is supposed to improve accuracy by limiting the amount of multi-tasking the burger flippers have to deal with today. Oh, really? In my experience, most drive-through order takers still have to process the order and deal with the cash transaction whether they take the order or not. Probably the only real positive spin you could put on this concept is that the manager can no longer punish workers by making them take orders for drive through. "Okay, kid. You really fouled up that last order. I'm sending you to the Call Center!" "Great! Does that include air fare?"

Either way, I'll bet my local Jack in the Box will still get my orders wrong, whether they use this call center concept or not.

America. Always moving forward.

Woody and CCW, neck and neck!

Too bad I don't know how to get screen captures since this may never happen again. As of this typing, Way Off Bass and Woody's Woundup occupy rankings 3128 and 3129 respectively on TTLB's ranking system.

Cool.

'Night!

At 2:17 a.m. I find myself agreeing with a llama . . .

. . . and I don't even drink.

This particular ruminant, however, offers some wise advice to a new classical music blogger. Heck - he even quotes Peter Schikele (er, quoting Duke Ellington, that is), so that alone is worth the link.

My own enjoyment of classical music began at an early age. My parents, being musicians, always had the stuff around the house, and so classical and jazz music weren't any less normal-sounding to my ears than the rock and roll I was also listening to.

I'm inclined to think that if classical music were NOT a part of the household when I was growing up, if I had had to discover it on my own at a later age, that said new classical music blogger's approach would have scared me off precisely the way the magical llama blogger suggests could happen, and . . .

. . . the heck with it. I just like typing llama.

Llama!

Yipee!

Kinda makes me want to put a Monty Python DVD in, but I bet they get jokes about the Holy Grail ALL the time.

And, Bro, on an entirely unrelated subject, I think my blogging habits are getting such that I should re-open Way Off Bass. Whaddya think?

It's probably best, then, if I don't have kids.

At least as long as this bit of research pans out.

Of course, I'm inclined to think that the whole "bad parent" thing crosses the lines of ugly/beautiful. I work in a Barnes & Noble in one of the richest areas in Southern California. Based solely on my informal observations over the last 18 months I can say the following:

[1] Money and physical beauty seem to go hand in hand,

[2] Good-looking, rich parents are, at least in terms of parenting, completely, utterly retarded, capable only of raising loud, loping hordes of evil, illiterate monster-children who enjoy smearing poo on bathroom walls, reading the "Sex Position Of The Day" books like they were SAT study guides, and using $80 books as coasters in the cafe.

Bring on the ugly, I say. At least we less-than-beautiful people still understand the concept of public shame.

Well, except for Rosie O'Donnell, that is.

Lord help us, bro: in our middle age we're becoming disgruntled letter writers. Was it Dave Barry who wrote that geezerhood begins in the forties? Or was it the fifties? All I know is that suddenly I feel like yelling at the check out person at Vons that in MY day we only had 27 varieties of Crest toothpaste to choose from and we liked it that way, and don't you give me that look young lady!

#253 - Open Letter Season

If my brother can do it, so can I. This is my blog, doggone it, and I'll do whatever I doggone well please. In this case, it has become necessary to castigate - publicly - the executive leadership of two railroading concerns that I have admired and respected over the years. At least until I became a customer.

Open Letter

12 April 2006

Mr. David M. Laney, Esq., Chairman of the Board, National Railroad Passenger Corporation
Mr. David Hughes, Acting President and Chief Executive Officer, NRPC
(sent via the Amtrak Customer Advisory Committee)

Mr. Richard K. Davidson, Chairman, Union Pacific Corporation
Mr. James R. Young, President and Chief Executive Officer, UPC

Sirs:

We have recently booked passage on two of the "classic" trains that Amtrak has revived over the years, and that used to run across this land from coast to coast and from border to border. Last year we travelled on the Coast Starlight from Los Angeles to Vancouver, Washington and had marvellous time. There were the inevitable delays, of course, but nothing that couldn't be resolved by the time we had arrived at our destinations.

Most recently we booked passage on the Sunset Limited, which runs along the southern portions of the country from Los Angeles to New Orleans. It used to run to Orlando, but Katrina took care of that for the foreseeable future.

It was with high anticipation that we looked forward to this trip. We were to visit family in Texas and eagerly planned our travel accordingly. My two little girls were excited, remembering the adventures they shared on the Starlight last year. My wife and I look forward to train travel as a method of travelling in relative comfort, without having to drive for several days to achieve our destination.

Imagine our chagrin, then, to discover shortly before our vacation that the Sunset Limited has one of the absolute worst on-time records of any of the major routes managed by Amtrak. "Expect delays of between 5 and 12 hours," whispered one passenger's web site. Still, we had already paid for and received our tickets, and changes that close to travel time are punishing to the traveller.

Admittedly, the trip to San Antonio was not that bad. We were delayed only about an hour to the station, and were able to get transportation to our hotel with little difficulty. It was the return trip from San Antonio to Los Angeles that will live forever as a nightmare in my mind.

One thing that we learned quickly on board was that Union Pacific controls the mainlines on which the Sunset Limited runs. We know this because the well-rehearsed, long-suffering crew repeated this message at least twenty times over the course of our return trip. "It would be nice," confided one Attendant to me, "if we owned our own track. But that's just not the case. We're completely at UP's mercy."

He wasn't kidding. I counted fifteen distinct delays, at least three of which were for a half hour or more, while waiting for up to six freight trains to clear the tracks ahead. In total, our delay returning to Los Angeles was more than three hours. I cannot imagine, gentlemen, that you would ever tolerate delays of that kind when travelling, especially on business. We of course missed our connection to our home station in Fullerton, California, but there were other trains that were able to accomodate us.

I'm not one given, generally speaking, to fits of temper. But one thing I cannot tolerate, especially from a national corporation, is lame excuses. It is quite obvious to me that these delays are simply a fact of life on the Sunset route. So why on earth do you not merely adjust your published schedule to account for those possibilities (or, actually, likelihoods)? Had you informed me, either on your website or your printed route schedule, of these delays to begin with, we would have made arrangements accordingly, and not relied on a slim two hour layover in Los Angeles to cover delays on our return.

I freely admit that I had reached the end of my patience by the time we reached Palm Desert, and realized that we would not arrive in Los Angeles until a full hour after our connecting train left Union Station. The poor Attendant who gave us the 20th recitation of the "Union Pacific" excuse was lambasted, and your names, gentlemen, were subsequently taken in vain.

I calmed down by the time we reached Los Angeles, and apologized to that Attendant for the drubbing to which I had subjected him. But the damage is done. It will be only with long consideration and examination of numerous other options before I consider taking the Sunset Limited again.

Here, gentlemen, are the lessons I learned from this experience:

1. The Sunset Limited is nowhere near as grand a train as the Coast Starlight. Now, admittedly, this may have much to do with the lack of scenery during the daylight hours of this route. However, the lack of an Observation Car and, especially, a play area for smaller children, was keenly felt.

2. The crew of the Limited, while every bit as efficient as the crew of the Starlight, appears to be haggard and careworn much of the time. The veterans of that route are frankly tired of being the butt of every complaint against Amtrak and Union Pacific, frequently at the top of passengers' lungs.

3. The snack bar of the Limited was (there is no other way to say this) sad. Because coach passengers must pay even more ludicrous prices if they wish to avail themselves of the diner, the snack bar frequently runs out of selections by the morning of the second day of travel. In our particular case, we received sour milk with our cereal not once, but twice on this route. This is inexcusable.

4. This lesson, perhaps hardest to understand for you who sit in the executive suites, is the most vital of all: You two great institutions of American transportation need to do a better job of sharing those rails. I realize that your responsibility to your shareholders is tremendous, especially for Union Pacific. But whatever goodwill you earn from moving goods across the country is squandered every time you make a passenger sit on a track without movement of any kind for as long as we did. I am keenly aware that our three and a half hour delay was, by most veteran passengers' standards, a light sentence. I am still not impressed.

I suspect, gentlemen, that with your salaries, the concerns of middle and lower-middle class passengers are of no tremendous concern. You talk a good game when it comes to improving rail usage in this country, but I have seen absolutely no outward signs of process improvement where passenger travel is concerned. Were I to participate in 360 degree surveys of your performance, the four of you would not fare well.

I love railroading as my father and generations before him did. I love the power and majesty and, yes, the romance of huge metal conveyances criss-crossing this nation day and night. I am a frustrated model railroader who plans to indulge that passion when I retire. Please, gentlemen, don't make me swear off of railroading forever.

I suspect I would merely represent the tip of a Titanic-proportioned iceberg.

Woody
Anaheim, California

#252 - Little Bro Makes a Stand...

...most likely in the unemployment line.

Good on ya, Mate!