dad's pride

The Alberton Papers, Vol IV, # II
By Dick Darne 3-26-07
"Hi, guys," I said as I entered the tank the next morning. "I’m gonna tell you all about my trip to Portland, I’m very proud of my daughter, Meghann. She’s one of Alberton’s own. She’s been here since she was an infant, graduated from Alberton, received her degree from U of M in social work, moved to Portland, started working in north Portland, wound up working with teens, trying to keep them in school when they are faced with many difficulties. She then went back to school and received her master’s degree in social work. She found that many of these youths’ difficulties with school attendance stemmed from being essentially homeless. Not always being completely "out on the street", but "couch surfing" or bouncing from relative to relative, then friend to friend, with none of them being conducive to school attendance or employment, leading to dropout and unemployability. While services are available downtown, they may as well be on the moon for her kids in north Portland. Meghann then produced a documentary for Rosemary Anderson H.S. to raise awareness (and hopefully funds) about this problem. The documentary, "Unseen: a HOME Project Documentary" was shown to a packed house at the Firehouse Theater on Interstate Blvd., in N. Portland. As soon as she sends me a copy, I’ll have a showing here."
"That’s great", said Bill, "but isn’t doing social work like taking a vow of poverty?"
"Some things are not measured in pecuniary values," interjected Gno. "You can’t put a price tag on good works."
"You can’t put a value on a Dad’s pride in his baby girl either." I had to say.
"To improve on one of the whacko’s talking points; It’s better to help them now, so we don’t have to pay a lot later." Added Johnny.
"She has a long term goal of establishing a group home for teen girls. I’ll keep you posted on that." I said.
"Does it take a village to raise a child?" cried the booming voice of Padre.
"Good topic!" someone hollered.
Since I had work to do, I had to leave. Keep ruminating. dd

nemi

The Alberton Papers, Vol IV, #I
By Dick Darne 3-20-07
I’m not sure what went on while I was over in Portland, but the think tank was fully occupied the morning after I got back. Padre was there and he had his friend Nemi with him. She was a beautiful but rather hard looking woman.
"I am Nemi, short for Nemesis. Maybe you have heard of me?" she said before Padre could begin to introduce her.
"Aren’t you the spirit of retribution or something like that, maybe daughter of Zeus?" I asked. "Why are you here, in this little town?"
" I just stopped to check out the think tank, you guys are OK so far. I may have a little business not too far away from here, and maybe a lot of business in D.C. But first, let’s clear up a couple of things. I am not Zeus’ daughter. I go back farther than that. I am many things, I am sometimes known as Karma. My function in the grand scheme is to punish things like hubris and vainglory. Sometimes I can just sit back and watch and maybe just nudge a little. You know, "what goes around, comes around." Just think about that and it is easier to be patient.
"Who have you actually had to punish?", someone asked.
"Some of the biggies self destructed, like Hitler and Mussolini, and a few other tinhorns. Last time I actually stepped in, was a short time ago, right here in Montana. Kinda caused an OD on vainglory, on the Little Big Horn. I won’t mention his name, but his initials are G A C. I’d rather handle things as Karma when I can."
"It’s not too hard to figure out what the business is in D.C." said Bill Woods, "but who’s in trouble around here?"
"A little twerp who sold out his brothers and class, thinks he’s a big shot leader, but he’s being used by the three piece suits. When they are done, they’ll throw him off the bus. I may not have to do anything, Karma will take care of it. I won’t say his name, but he is the speaker of the house and big-shot wannabe"
"Hey Dick, how did the trip to Portland go, didn’t your daughter produce a documentary about homeless kids?" asked Johnny.
"I’ll tell you all about it in the next rip-roaring installment, but in the meantime, keep- a- pondering. I’ll see you all in the morning." I said as I went in for dinner.

kool-aid

The Alberton Papers, Vol. III, #XX
By Dick Darne 3-6-07
"So, what’s the deal, all this ‘free trade’ stuff. Seems no one wants to be shafted, but it just keeps on coming. What’s the matter with our elected officials, anyways?"asked Todd.
"Drinking the kool-aid is the simple answer, but there’s a lot more to it than that." answered Bill. "I’ve been around a long time and I remember when times were good, a lot of taxes would be collected. Of course, with a progressive tax, those who did well were taxed a little more. Those who did really well were taxed a little more yet. Those who became filthy rich, a lot more yet. Most never complained because they realized that the
system helped them, as did the hard working ones who did just ok. When times went bad, (usually called a recession), the taxes collected were spent, or we should say, invested in public works. Dams, highways, bridges, hospitals. Put people to work, making good wages, spending it, stimulating the economy, buying things we made right here in the good old USA, making profits, making people more prosperous and the rich richer, it worked well."
"But even if we were to do that now, we don’t make much of anything here anymore, do we?" said Johnny.
"From reading the WSJ, I have noticed that the whole system is headed into the chasm and the CEO’s are still making obscene compensation when they should be committing collective, ritual suicide" added Todd.
Gno leaned into the discussion: "This kind of ties into the ‘illegal immigrant’ problem. What’s the difference between snapping up the ‘always low prices’ made by foreigners paid a very low wage in a foreign land and enjoying cheap labor right here by foreigners? Heck, sometimes the don’t even get paid at all."
"Some say that we provide free services for illegals. Even if they have a stolen ss number, the money collected stays here. Income taxes are collected. Of course when they are really exploited, like under the table, someone else gains and it’s not the taxpayer." added Bill."
"But back to the ‘smiley-always-low-prices’, the taxpayers subsidize that too. We help feed their kids, care for them when sick, the employees, not the owners. Did you know that of the ten richest people in the world, five are Waltons, and I don’t mean John-boy. They literally never earned a thing on their own. They could well afford progressive taxation and still would never live long enough to spend what they would still have." said Todd.
"Suppose the bad guys invaded and won. Whose wealth would be taken? Whose heads would roll? Why should the common man pay for the forces to guarantee the rich their plunder? Welfare for the rich far exceeds the pittances paid out to the truly poor." said the Big feller with the Big arms. Padre was back . "Take a break, you guys have earned it. Hard work, this thinking. I shall return and I’ll bring my friend Nemi."
Stay tuned for the next arm gripping episode. Keep an open mind. dd

beer, bait & ammo

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, # XIX
By Dick Darne 3-5-07
"Say, where’s old Dick these days, I haven’t seen him much since he got back?" asked Bill Woods.
"He’s in training now. Going on a 325 mile bicycle trip in June. Trying to relive his youth, or something like that." replied Todd.
"I heard he’s got a new trainer now, Tom Wheeler’s dragging him up the mountain each morning, then he rides his bike 15 to 20 miles every day" added Johnny. " He’ll be out of our hair for a while."
"Especially when he takes off for D.C. in his ‘hippie-mobile" said Gno. "I hope he doesn’t paint flowers all over it before he leaves and have some whacko mistake him for an old hippie. Camo would be better."
That’s when I walked in. I had to tell them about the time I was driving along in my Volvo, with one arm around my old dog, when a pickup truck with wheels way too big to ever be any good for anything practical, and driven by some guy with a really big hat (all hat-nocattle) in a big hurry passed me while giving me the universal one finger salute. Since I had one arm around the dog and the other busy driving, I could only smile at him as he barreled by me, consumed by his rage. I’ll forgive him, it was an obvious case of mistaken identity .
"Yeah, better lay off the lattes, Dick, we can probably fix you up with a camo hat or something. Maybe even paint the Volvo camo. Remember, you’re heading for ‘beer, bait & ammo’ country." chuckled Bill.
"I’ll probably get along just fine. The other members of The Gravely Mountain Boys are going too, we’ll be picking and a grinning along the trail" I told them. "Music does indeed soothe the savage beast, and have you ever noticed that almost never is a music lover mean."
"I have noticed" said Johnny. "Sounds like we should encourage music and the other arts. Maybe we’d have less mean people in this world."
"It probably would help if there were better fare on TV’s vast waste land. Less blood, guts, murder, mayhem, profanity and saving the world via torture each week."added Gno.
I know the tank will be in good hands. Stay tuned. dd