the alberton papers

lillian

2009-01-14T12:05:00.002-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VII, #XX
By Dick Darne 1-14-09
"I dreamed I was there, in Hillbilly Heaven
Oh, what a wonderful sight."
From an old song I used to hear on the radio, many years ago.
If there is such a place, then it must be full of Albertonians, surely enough to form a band. To anyone who knew, heard her play or had played with her, she would be the lead fiddler. Lillian Young was one of the best musicians I have ever met. She was one of the rarest, she had the gift of perfect pitch. She would tune by ear with no reference, to exact pitch. She could fiddle fast tunes and slow tunes. Any style of music and she could sing like a meadowlark. Sad songs, happy songs, blusey songs and hit songs. I moved to Alberton thirty years ago and for many years after that, the best entertainment was at Chet’s bar when she was coaxed into getting the old fiddle out. As the years went on it may have taken a wee bit more coaxing, but oblige she would, to everyone’s delight. I am sure many of us can close our eyes and reminisce; Brownie and Lillian and Hank as the mainstays, helped by Rudy, George and others. My favorite was "Little Coquette", which in another time and place would win an award, it could very well be number one somewhere right now.
Lillian, you sang the most and best songs and once again, Alberton becomes a bit less without you. Miss you we do, reminisce we must.
"Old times there are not forgotten" from another old song. dd

ruminations for mastication

2008-11-25T23:13:00.001-07:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VII, #IX
By Dick Darne 11-25-08
The tank was packed this frosty morning. Old timers, young folks, critics and just interested people. The Good Professor was beaming at the sight of so much think power assembling under one roof, which was rapidly becoming too small. Beside him stood another old timer who had been absent for awhile, beaming with pride. Looks like Elder was back.
"Looks like you have given them some rumination for mastication, Sven, it does my heart good..I have a few observations I’d like to share with all, if I may?" said Elder.
"Go right ahead, Old Timer, I always learn from your sharing of what you have observed over many, many years." replied Sven.
"Thanks. I am heartened by the resurgence in thinking, even though there’s still a long ways to go. Thinking is not the bailywick of the formally educated or self proclaimed elite, but should be the duty of all citizens to think about things that affect them, their families and their future. If left to others, then one has no complaint. There are a few genuine thinkers of the highest intellect who have some important things to say, I am going to share a few with you now. My old buddy, Noam Chomsky said the other day; ‘Change and progress are rarely gifts from above, they come out of struggles from below.’ As always, don’t blindly believe it, study your history, not necessarily the school textbooks, it’s not only informative, but quite entertaining." said Elder.
"Good point, Elder, apply critical thinking, maybe we’ll hash this over later." replied Sven. "Back to you Elder."
"Another is the observations of Walter Lippman. While you may conclude that he certainly seemed ‘elitist’, he was reporting what he saw at the time. He saw democracy consisting of spectators and participants. The spectators as mostly meddlesome outsiders. Their job is mainly to show up at intervals, yank a lever or mark a box, choose between Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, go home and shut up. The real ‘thinkers’ will decide what’s best for all. They are also absolutely terrified of the ‘unwashed masses’. Said Elder.
"Which brings us to the ‘Fabulous Five. Said Sven. "Any words of wisdom on that, Elder?"
"Yes, first, the fab five are symbolic of countless ‘really smart guys’, who worship at the free market altar and in spite of all their education, shouldn’t be giving advice on economics but rather should be given supoenas. You know, all their theories assume there informed consumers making rational choices but after brainwashing by advertising, we actually have uninformed consumers making irrational choices. Works the same for a ‘dumbed down citizenry.’ These guys honestly believe they are acting rationally and I guess they are if you consider they have been operating in a framework of lunacy." Elder said as he picked up his coat. "Got to go now. Take back the thinking from these Idiots. Keep them stirred up, Sven. I think Viggie & Co. Are on the way. Don’t forget, ‘spectators’ and ‘unwashed masses’ is you. Shouldn’t you be insulted?
dd

free market malarkey

2008-11-16T22:36:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VII, #VIII
By Dick Darne 11-16-08
"Professor Sven, before we start, I have a question for you. Surely these five people are not solely to blame for the whole mess, are they?" asked one of the newcomers who had just discovered the think tank.
"Ah wunnerful, wunnerful, I am more encouraged each day with the development of questions instead of blind acceptance of the situation. Of course it is not so simple as to just pick a few, assign blame and move on. This is just a starting point. We can move backwards in history and forward too, as we shall see. Anyone care to venture into the roots of the problem?" answered the Professor. "How about you, Bill, you’ve been around awhile?"
"Well, as far as my memory goes, it started with Reagan and his ‘mantra’; government is the problem, get government out of the way, let the free market work it’s magic, it’ll all trickle down and the rest of his, as my grandfather used to say; ‘harkey-malarkey’. I don’t even bother with an umbrella anymore." answered Bill.
"We’ve had other periods in our history where the ‘free market malarkey’ almost did us in; at least twice the system had to be saved from itself."added Todd.
"And both of those times it was a Roosevelt who did it." said Johnny.
"Good for you, Johnny, I see you’ve been reading your history," said the Good Professor, "but it’s been with us from the start, larceny was thoroughly imbedded in the souls of more than a few of our founding fathers. I think Gno may be able to offer some insight into these matters."
Gno walked slowly to the front, turned around, cleared his throat and surprisingly, for one predisposed to rant, began calmly and slowly: "The art of National Theft Treasury goes back to the founding Fathers. First introduced by Alexander Hamilton, theft of the National Treasure has become a high art and is not questioned by that simpering, smarmy mob of effete imperialist sympathizing swine called congress because they too are of the "investment class" and make a share of the money."
One could hear a pin drop at this point.Gno began again: "But I don't think the treasury has ever been so successfully looted as we've just seen during the Bush years. Remember the S&L bailout? That was a robbery on a national level, but it was dwarfed by the job the reactionary right just completed.And what is so amazing is that the follow-up level of theft, called ‘sweeping out the corners’, is going on even as King George the Bush is ushered out of the office in disgrace.Nope. If that man and his administration are not retroactively impeached or held accountable for their crimes, then the new administration is concurring in the theft and the laws spun by the treasury-devouring spider will remain and be much harder to reverse ... thereby paving the way for future thefts of the money of The People."
"Very good. But there’s more to ponder," said Professor Sven. "How do we keep getting ourselves in these ‘pickles’? We’ll explore that next week, that will be your homework assignment. And a one and a two and away we go, until next week!"
Will Diogenes ever find someone to hold his lamp? Is the price of liberty eternal vigilance? Shouldn’t one be miserable if he doesn’t like what he sees in the mirror? dd

the alberton papers: fabulous five

2008-11-08T20:44:00.001-07:00

fabulous five

2008-11-08T20:31:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VII, #VII
By Dick Darne 11-8-08
"Ah wunnerful, a truly great day here where it’s morning in America again!" exclaimed Professor Sven, as the crowd filed into the Think-Tank.
"Who’s to blame for the financial crisis?" several voices were asking at once.
"Let’s get right to it, although ‘what’ would be easier to answer than ‘who’, anybody want to guess what caused it, how about you, Johnny?"
"No doubt, Greed did." answered Johnny.
"Let’s not forget the spawn of Greed; Larceny, Arrogance, Corruption, Vainglory, Pigheadedness and Worship of a failed ideology." added Bill.
"Can anyone expound on that?" asked Sven in his professorial manner.
"Free market, free trade, the absurd ideas of Ayn Rand" said Todd.
"A bunch of Laissez-Faries, if you ask me." some old grouch hollered from the back.
"Ah wunnerful, wunnerful. You boys get the general idea just fine, but lets get to the actual blame. Plenty to go around, but lets get to the big five. A one and a two and away we go."
1) Phil Gramm. In 1999 he was head of the Senate Banking Committee, where he had enough clout to push for some of his bad-for-us, good for Phil and friends ideas. He was the architect of the repeal of the Glass Steagal act, which very well would have prevented this mess. But wait, there’s more; he slipped a little provision into an 11,000 page appropriations bill just before Christmas break in 2000 that prevented regulation or even monitoring Derivitaves, those pesky, little understood things at the heart of the mess, designed solely to line the pockets of the "really-smart wall street guys"
2)Alan Greenspan. Head of the Federal Reserve for almost 20 years, he is an Ayn Rand worshiper, having drank copious quantities of her kool-aid, he allowed this mess to happen, still believing in the "invisible hand" making minor course corrections in the sailing of the USS Financial-Ship and believing with all the fervor of Linus in the Pumpkin Patch that the great unwashed would be bathed in the trickle-down deluge coming soon at an undetermined time and place of their choosing.
3)Chris Cox. He weakened enforcement while at the Securities and Exchange Commission
4)William Donaldson. He preceded Cox at SEC, while there he did a big favor for the Bankers by exempting them from the rule that required them to keep an adequate amount of cash on hand to cover potential losses.
5)Henry Paulson. Absolutely amazing that a bank robber would be put in charge of getting the bank up and running after he just robbed it.
"We’ll just have to take a break until next week to determine just how to handle this, so until then this is Sven Berkowitz, Professor at the North Dakota Institute of Financial Technology signing off. One and a two, turn on the bubble machine.
Until then, dd

subprime

2008-10-13T12:44:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol VII, #VI
By Dick Darne 10-13-08
"Quite a crowd, this frosty morning" said Johnny, as he poured a cup of think-tank elixir. "What’s happening?"
"Professor Sven is back, to enlighten us on the financial crisis" said Bill.
"Bank heist is a more apt description" added Todd. "Let’s get a seat and get started."
"Ah, wunnerful morning to you all. You all are wondering why I called this meeting, eh. Well we’re going to explain the sub-prime situation first," said the Professor. "Then if we have time we’ll properly assign the blame."
"But we have heard the blame put on people at the bottom, at least that’s what some of the ‘experts’ say," said Johnny.
"Ah yes, that’s what we are conditioned to believe from an early age, whereas a long memory and a study of history tells us otherwise, the blame usually belongs up, not down. But let me tell you a little story I gleaned from reading a little stick-figure cartoon called ‘the sub-prime primer’.( http://www.businesspundit.com/sub-prime/ if you want to read it directly.) Let’s follow a loan that never should have been made, as it is greased along by greed and deregulation, to today’s mess."
"A man walks into the mortgage brokers office and is quite up front about not having any down payment or ability to make the payment, but wants to buy a house. The broker, apparently only concerned with his commission, ignores all the principles of good banking and grants the loan, which will raise the interest rate later. After a whole bunch of crappy loans pile up, the broker sells them to the ‘smart guys on Wall Street’ where after they pile up there, they rename them and sell them to really smart investors who work their financial wizardry on them, with a lot of lubrication from lax rules and lackadaisical enforcement. The whole pile of crap is now renamed and ownership transferred to an offshore ‘shell company’. The story now goes to one of the buyers, the Norwegian Village Retirement Fund, who finds it’s investments going sour and a $^%**&@~ you attitude from these really smart wall street guys. Most of their actions, while morally rotten, are mostly legal thanks to de-regulation and repeal of the Glass-Steagal act."
"But I heard that was repealed by Clinton, a Democrat" said Bill.
"Signed by, and a party to, but let’s not forget who has effectively controlled Congress for many years now and even longer figuring in the ‘blue dogs’. Any attempt to lay all the blame at the feet of the least of us is laughable, except so many people get their news from extremely biased and inaccurate sources that they actually believe it." added the good Professor. "A big chunk of our Government is up to their eyeballs in this mess, let’s take a break and when we return, we’ll properly assign blame."
Who will they be? Your friends and neighbors, your own dear mother? Your elected officials? Maybe us? Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode of the Alberton Papers. Sharpen your pitchforks! Save your rotten fruits and veggies!. Be sure you are registered to vote! Exercise your cognitive powers! dd

good people

2008-10-05T22:59:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VII, #V
By Dick Darne 10-5-08
We are just back Friday from a 3 day bike trip, from 9 mile falls out past Spokane to Higgins Point, this side of C’oeur D’Alene. While resting at the end, I reflected on the events "on the trail" and some of the kindness and assistance offered us, ranging from a simple "good morning!" to a gentleman in a car who stopped while we were fixing a flat to offer his tire pump, who actually knew where Alberton was. I guess one could say that good people are not only the salt of the earth but are where you find them. I was born in the southland, 68 years ago and raised as a product of the mores of the time and place, which is to say a Right Wing Whacko, Bigoted, Prejudiced Redneck, even at one time professing to be a "Hard-hat for Nixon", yet I was learning more than I realized. At the beginning of the Sixties, I went to work for the Gas Co. In Wash, D.C., where I found myself working in places I had only read about; "the Ghetto", or as we called it, "the Jungle". "Stay away from there, those people are animals, they’ll eat you alive!" I was told. Although it took a few years to assimilate it, I learned a few things about Good People. It doesn’t matter if they are rich or poor, but I had many, many more experiences with poor Good People than among the affluent. The poor would almost always: 1)Offer me something to eat, if it wasn’t mealtime they would offer to make it for me. 2)If no food was offered, then the "brown paper bag that holds the bottle" was proffered for the pause that refreshes. 3) Offer me a seat, to "rest a spell". Never in the Ghetto was I told : "The Servant’s and Tradesman’s entrance is in the rear." I think that anyone who went there to help was treated well, point being, we are blessed to have here in Alberton, more than our share of Good People.
I am sad to say that we have lost one of Alberton’s finest Good People today, one of our Town Fathers and Musician Extraordinaire, George Roat. George was among the first and finest persons I met 29 years ago and he was always ready to lend a helping hand. He did his share and much more to help keep the town running, served as Fire Chief quite a few years, built a few bridges, picked and sang a lot of tunes. I can’t say that he never sang his song but I can close my eyes and see it clearly........ Hank, Rudy, Clancy Tim and George are tuning up now.
Good People are where you find them, I wish we could keep them in Alberton forever. At least the memories will remain. dd

gno rant

2008-10-05T22:57:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VII, # IV By Dick Darne 9-21-08"What the heck are you doing here this early in the morning, Gno?" asked a voice from the tank"Oh, just thought I’d try a cup of your much touted ‘thinking-brew’", replied Gno. "What’s happening around Alberton these days?""Well, nothing much until a few weeks ago, when we had a barfight escalate into assorted assaults, insults and donnybrooks, some arrested, some cited, some still on the loose, people on both sides alarmed, not possessing all the facts and rumors running rampant." answered Bill."Where’s the law and courts on all this?" asked Gno."Funny you asked," said Bill. "At times it looks like a re-run of an old ‘Keystone Cops’ episode""Or Barney Fife on steroids." someone hollered from the back."I remember when I was a young buck, even when you were locked up for your ‘wild and wooly shenanigans’ you still respected the sheriff, not to mention that he knew you, your folks, their folks and all your friends." said Bill."Kinda like ‘community-based law enforcement’ way before the phrase was coined," added Johnny."I blame the barfight that spread into the streets and homes of Alberton on the President," Gno said as he poured a cup of hot coffee."Gratuitous acclamation at this point," said Todd, "Why not offer us your argument?"Gno sat down with a sigh, sipped his coffee, made a face of mild disbelief as he looked at the dark liquid, then began, "It must be obvious to people now how the corporate mindset of "hostile takeover" spread with the CEO's to government. And although we all know that the behavior of some people leads to a certain kind of leadership, it will soon be obvious that certain masses of people imitate the leadership."Consider the attitude of King George the Bush toward law."If we ever get him to the Hague, I believe his argument may go something like this: 'Under the auspices of the quaint legal instrument historically referred to as the Geneva Convention -- specifically articles concerned with war crimes -- our actions do not fall under the terms of crimes against humanity, insofar as terrorists have no legal standing as citizens of any country; therefore they are not citizens of the global community. It is regrettable, but they therefore cede any claim to treatment as human beings. We can torture them with impunity." 'As far as crimes against the Constitution, let me ask you this. If a law is changed by my pet congress to permit the actions of my administration after I have allegedly broken the former law, how can I be guilty of breaking it? Besides, who gives a damn about the Fourth Amendment?' "Gno took another sip of the coffee, then resumed, "I conclude: the danger of this sort of thinking is the danger of non-fallibility. In 1765 Sir William Blackstone wrote, 'That the King can do no wrong is a necessary and fundamental principle of the English constitution.' King George the Bush and his administration are in effect saying they are above the law. And I believe that if the leadership has no respect for the law, how in the world can the leadership expect us to respect the law?"Gno shook his empty cup over the hot stove. The few remaining drips sizzled. "Are you reusing your grounds?""We compost the heck out of ‘em! No wusses shall drink our elixir before it’s time."

phantasmagoria

2008-09-15T23:04:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VII, # III
By Dick Darne 9-15-08
This week I am going to by-pass the think tank and conduct a short rant to let you folks know how I really feel. After countless e-mails consisting of easily debunked lies, myths and innuendoes, mostly about Senator Obama, I have realized that a frontal assault on ignorance is bound to fail, so I give up. It is hard to fathom someone so stupid as to believe that crap. With nothing of substance to offer on the actual issues, I suppose all that is left is to cling to lies and half truths. Anyone who wants more of the same policies that have brought us to the brink of ruin and our Constitution trashed must have truly drank the kool-aid and to the exclusion of reality must subscribe to fist-pumping red, white and blue phantasmagoria as a substitute for any kind of rational thinking. With a dearth of values or ideas they must resort to the lowest forms or campaigning, assuming the role of victim, avoiding all discussion of issues, but dwelling on assassinating their opponent’s character over the most picayunish items using half-truths, omissions and sometimes bald faced lies, in what is apparently a drive to sell their souls to the devil for power. Why is a self described "pit-bull with lipstick too fragile for full media scrutiny? (As if we actually had a functioning media.) In their zeal to hold up a demon of sorts, to be defeated at all costs, they lose sight of many other real dangers such as: loose nukes, looming climate change, dependence on foreign energy, national debt owned in a large part by the same country who additionally produces most of the cheap plastic crap found at wally world, (shoptilyadropbaby) and possibly the worst; we don’t make anything anymore and may have forgotten how. It is a sad day in any nation when it can’t produce the very things it needs to survive. So, you knowledge denying, political cretins, your minds are made up and sealed, I have better things to do than tilt windmills.
Don’t you folks forget Early’s celebration of life at the Alberton Community Center, Sunday, Sept. 21 at 2:00 pm.
My name is Dick Darne and I approve this message. Until next week, dd

my friend early

2008-09-07T21:33:00.001-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VII, #II
By Dick Darne 9-07-08
This week I would like to pay tribute to an old and dear friend, who lived in Alberton for many years. She passed away this week, much too soon. When I first met her close to forty eight years ago, she was Claudianna Rice. The lady had class, although other circumstances seemed to obscure it for many years. Her folks were super people, as I remember, her dad was an Admiral. They were the kind of people who could look you in the eye, ask you how you were doing and genuinely cared what you had to say. My first encounter with Early Wilson’s (the name you would have known her by) talents was her musical abilities. She was my first bass player, and could sing any part like a pro. She also could listen to a song, write down the words and help me arrange it. She also was a pretty good mechanic, she did most of the work installing a boiler in her house and hooked up all the controls with me on the other end of the telephone. She also changed out a rod and piston in her car once. A truly multi-talented lady! The circumstances mentioned previously were very much like a poker hand and once she realized that her hand was not a winner she folded it and got some new cards. In a few years, she finished school, became a Traveling Nurse and moved away from Alberton. She usually made yearly visits to Alberton but not this year. Her new life was a winning hand, alas it didn’t last long enough. Early, I’m glad to have known you and you are already missed. Wish we could have sung one more song together.
One more thing since I have a little space left, Bicycle Bob, of Missoula Free Cycles and I would like to keep old bicycles out of the trash. We are non- profit, provide bikes for those who need them, and recycle the remaining pieces. Bob can take them in Missoula, I can take them in Alberton and pick them up in Superior or Regis if someone would collect them for us. For more info: www.strans.org/home.html or contact me, 722-4575. Thanks folks, dd

labor day 08

2008-09-01T22:33:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VII, #I
By Dick Darne 9-01-08
"Wow! Those guys can say a lot in a short time with a very few words." Exclaimed Johnny. "I wish they would come more often and stay a little longer."
"They leave us with things to ponder, after all we are a ‘Think Tank’ aren’t we? And don’t forget what Elder told us; we’re not the only bunch of thinkers and what with all the assaults on our liberties, they are kept hopping." Replied Bill. "Besides, it’s Labor Day so we should ruminate on that also."
"Good idea!" Said Todd. "We should reflect on the good fortunes that some of us enjoy, such as; decent wages, health care and a good defined benefit pension to retire with before you are ‘all used up’."
"Don’t forget decent, safe working conditions that help forestall the reckoning with ‘all used up’." Added Bill. Wasn’t too long ago that ‘going to work at seven’ referred to age, not the starting time. A normal day was from first light to when it was dark. No ‘having a nice weekend’ much less a three day weekend, toil was six and a half days and sometimes seven long days per week."
"And let’s remember that all workers owe the forty hour week to the blood, sweat, tears and lives of our Union Fathers gave to win it for all of us." Said Todd. "But let’s not forget the oath that many of us took, namely ‘to extend a helping hand to all branches of honorable toil’. Respect and support our Brothers and Sisters in whatever they do. Buy Union. Support businesses that employ Union Labor.
"Another thing we must do is support those who support us, find out what politicians are for us working folks and work hard to get them elected." Said Todd. "Looks like Gno has a couple of gems for us, take it away Gno!"
" One thing that those who enjoy all these things taken for granted could do is leave the waitress a little more than a mess on the table. One can’t help but be amazed at how many outright cheapskates there are out there. It’s a testament to the self control of our finest ladies that there aren’t more bowls of soup ‘accidentally’ dropped in El Cheapo’s lap. Or worse!" Declaired Gno "And my parting shot, a dream of the working man helped by a long memory: How about a Union built scaffold, using good old USA lumber, from Western Montana of course, large enough to handle all the ones who would attack our liberties or who would turn us into serfs or plunder and pillage our common wealth, using Union made rope, Union hangmen and Union gravediggers. After a fair trial, of course."
"Holy Toledo, Gno, that’ll put some people to work, won’t it?" A voice from the back cried.
"Most of us would settle for having them as guests of honor at a barbeque. Trouble is, it’ll take too long that way."
Maybe what Gno is saying is: "no more Mister Nice Guy" until next week dd

the old ones return

2008-08-25T23:56:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #XX
By Dick Darne 8-18-08
"Elder, where the heck have you been?" One of the thinkers asked. "We haven’t seen you or any of the others for quite a while now."
"Well, like I told you before, we’ve been real busy checking on other thinkers just like you guys here in Alberton. We are happy to note that there are more and more each day but our little experiment in democracy is really in trouble. We’ve always been battered since the beginning, but the last thirty years have been a real kick in the rear end. The rest of the Old Ones are here to share some of their thoughts with you boys." answered Elder.
Sure enough, there they were, inside the think tank, filling it with their presence but not seeming to take up much physical space. The Lady, Padre, Viggie, Mother Nature and Nemi.
In a sad voice, The Lady began: "Your so-called Representatives have failed you big time! That awful FISA bill was an in your face assault on your liberties, not to mention the immunity for the phone companies who went along with the illegal wiretaps. There’s much more, but it falls over in Padre’s area."
"Yes," Padre picked up; "What most people don’t know is that if required to actually defend themselves, they would use their formidable legal resources to produce proof that the top echelons of the executive branch ordered them to do it. The boys where the buck is supposed to stop at couldn’t have that, so voila, immunity. That one shameful episode should cause all who voted for FISA to go down in ignominious defeat, forever reviled for abandoning their sacred trust to defend our Constitution. You all had plenty of warning, as Viggie is about to remind you."
"Oh, yes," said Viggie, unfortunately most people are easily sated with toys, mindless entertainment, propaganda, ala Limbaugh, Hannity, Beck, O’Reilly and other bloviating prevaricators from the mainstream propaganda noise machine and the effortless forwarding of any lies that seem so cool. Most of this stuff is right in the open, almost in-your-face, it plays to your fears and the prejudice and bigotry that lies latent in our hearts and minds. Enough from me for now, lets hear what Moms here has to say."
"Thanks, Viggie." Mother Nature sat quietly for a moment before continuing. "I’ve always been attacked by the forces of greed and those among them who were never taught to clean up their messes and those who somehow believe that the Bible says ‘go forth and kick the crap out of the planet’, but the worst are the ‘knowledge-deniers’. Psuedo- scientists in the employ of the greedy ones churning out half-truths and outright lies packaged, seasoned and made yummy for willing knowledge-denier-wannabees. The one thing I can say for sure is that I, along with cockroaches, rats and various bacteria and viruses will be the last ones standing and I’m not so sure they won’t be as good a company as some humans. Finish it up Nemi."
"I’ll make it short and sweet." she said. "Your only hope, and I can’t do it for you, is to hold everyone accountable. Elect people who will investigate, prosecute and punish. If they won’t then you will have to do it yourselves. Fertilize the tree! Clean house from top to the lowest offices in the land."
"And don’t forget injustice is best confronted with a long memory!" interjected Elder as they all faded away.
They will be back. Get your minds straight! dd

things frequently are as they seem

2008-08-20T19:55:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, #XIV
By Dick Darne 8-18-08
"Things frequently are as they seem." Ogden Nash.
After all that has transpired lately in Alberton, one wonders; what next? Sometimes, not knowing all the behind the scene facts, one can be mistaken about what appears to be happening and must rely on what seems to be happening. So off we go, on ruminations of what seems to be.
I was fortunate to have gone to school when Civics, World History, American History and American Government were taught. I was fortunate to have been encouraged to seek the truth and read voraciously (albeit skeptically) everything I could get my hands on. Sometimes fiction can be a great teacher as is first hand observation. My beliefs have been tested over the years and many have been replaced but my core beliefs on democracy and government are still intact, although severely battered at times. I was raised "inside the beltway" next to Washington D.C., I do know what poor government looks like. I know what corruption looks like. I know what pandering politicians look like. I also have seen authority running amok, rife with idiots who have no business being in charge of anything at all, believing that all the citizens that they have been charged to (and supposedly sworn to) protect and serve are nothing but "perps" until proven otherwise with cynicism reserved for old burnt out cops who spent twenty years in the inner city among the worst of the worst.
Now to the "seems". It seems like there was no need to arrest a family member at the beginning of a funeral service for an outstanding warrant for an unrelated incident that occurred elsewhere. It seems like arrest warrants on local people would be easier if there was some connection to the community other than a display of raw authority. It seems like that same connection might even help with what they actually looked like. It seems that demanding respect is not the same as commanding it by virtue of earning it.
To my constituents: if I could take it back, I would gladly "flip-flop" and vote against the hefty bundle of what seems like "blackmail payment" to buy our minimal law enforcement. To you and all the rest of the county: this seems like "creeping fascism" Tell me it ain’t so, but it surely seems that way.
Enough "seeming" for now, I must prepare myself mentally for the retaliation that will surely come to me. Watch my back and think about this.
Ogden had another one: "Only the game fish swims upstream, the sensible fish swims down." But then so does dead fish and garbage. dd

musings from alberton

2008-08-11T23:49:00.001-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #XVIII
By Dick Darne 8-11-08
Musings from Alberton
Tonight I sit here wondering why. Why being what the ancient philosophers would have you ask of everything, yet some things are not ours to learn. I think of the tally of folks, five young and five old, who have left our community this year and try to make sense of it. The older, while the loss is no less, can be rationalized by attribution to the "natural order of things". We are born, we live our lives and in the end , die we must. Back to Mother Earth, fodder for new life, souls living on, where we know not for sure but surely something more complex than anything man has ever devised or conceived of must surely be recycled somewhere somehow. The passing of the younger becomes a double blow, it is not expected, it is out of the natural order as we understand it, yet if one were to look at the larger picture, one might observe that in the natural world, among lesser creatures, it happens all the time. Some are raised to be slaughtered just as in our world we raise fine young people and send them off to be slaughtered in senseless so-called foreign adventures that are more often than not hatched in lies, reared in vainglory and harvested for profit by the warmongers. Then I begin to wonder, what is different about a culture that tolerates drunken drivers? While they are surely severely punished, it is always after the fact. Loved ones gone , pain and grief for the survivors, profit for the rumsellers.
We are fortunate to have a caring populace here in Alberton, one’s pain becomes the pain of all. We come together at times like this but shouldn’t we come together without reasons like this? Any minute, any time the grim reaper may show up and we know not who or when. Let’s live accordingly.
A few weeks ago we lost Emily. She had finally found a smoother road but we never know the time. As always, Alberton is a lesser place without her. Danny was one of our young men who was a victim of whom? The driver or us? We’ll miss you Danny Boy. Kent, you are in a fight for your life and we are all pulling for you.
After all this, I have learned no more but I thank you for allowing me to share my musings with you. Keep caring about others. dd

fuel price comparison

2008-08-04T23:05:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #XVII
By Dick Darne 8-4-08
"Before you and Lars leave, there’s one thing that has been puzzling the folks around here and we’ve taken on the job of supplying the real facts." asked Bill.
"Oh, wunnerful, wunnerful", replied Sven. "We love questions, so what’s puzzling you boys?"
"Well, since prices have risen for all kinds of fuel, people want to know what’s the cheapest way to heat a house. I mean, which is cheaper now days, propane, electric, natural gas, oil or wood?" said Bill.
"Funny you should ask," said the Professor, I was just talking to Dick and while he was rooting through his almost fifty years of archives, he came upon the answers in one of the old boiler handbooks. It is a list of heating values for different fuels and the amount of each to equal one million BTU’s. all that’s left would be to use the current prices and compare."
"Of course there are many other factors, such as actual efficiency, insulation and the weather, so the only valid comparison could be made by using a particular house for a comparison and year to year can be different unless you factor in the actual weather conditions for each year. Fortunately records are kept for the amount of ‘degree-days’ per month per year, but that’s another lesson." added Lars.
"Here is the chart:" said Sven.
Fuel comparisons based on 1,000,000 BTU’s .
Nat. Gas = 1 decatherm
Propane = 10.89 gal.
#1 oil = 7.46 gal.
# 2 oil = 7.19 gal.
Wood = 286 lbs. (Approx. 1/14 cord)
Electric = 294 KW
"Now," said Sven, " there’s a few more things.. If we are considering one particular dwelling, and we have properly installed and operated equipment, then we are ‘apples to apples’.
Next consider that electric heat is 100% efficient, that is, all the KW goes to heat your home. All fossil fuels require that a portion of the heat energy be used to make the chimney operate, so we must use an ‘efficiency factor, which can be as low as 60% for some older equipment or as high as 90% or higher for some of the more modern equipment. This means that you divide the answer by the ‘efficiency factor’ to arrive at the true cost."
"Where do you find this ‘efficiency factor?" Johnny asked.
"All equipment made in the last 20 years has a sticker with an ‘AFUE’ rating, which stands for ‘annual fuel utilization efficiency’ which takes into account all sorts of factors which may affect efficiency. Your tax dollars fund the research, so use it." interjected Lars.
"So, now and a one and a two and an example coming right up." exclaimed Sven. "Using propane, electric or wood, we ran some calculations to see how they compare..
We used $2.25/ gal. for propane at 80% eff., 10.2 cents/ KW for electric at 100% eff. and $140/cord for wood at 70% eff. So, for one million BTU’s, the winner is........$30.63 for propane, 29.98 for electric and $14.29 for wood. If you were lucky enough to have Natural gas, it would have been a little under $20. See you boys next week. Keep cerebrating." dd

3 idiots from chalcedony county

2008-07-28T23:52:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #XVI
By Dick Darne 7-28-08
The Think Tank was up and cogitating early this morning. Everyone was waiting for the arrival of our learned friend, Professor Sven Berkowitz, who was bringing his brother Lars, who heads up the Nodak U Political Science and Industrial Technology department. Lars had been observing events in Alvinville, over in Chalcedony County. We didn’t have to wait long, two scholarly gentlemen pedaled up on their bikes, hopped off, hung up their helmets and came inside.
"Wunnerful, wunnerful, glad to see you boys. How do you like our bikes? Latest technology from Nodak U Research Department. Made of Knapweed fibers, stronger than steel. Faster than walking and great gas mileage." exclaimed Sven.
"Yah, but don’t park ‘em in the middle of a field using insects for weed control or your bike might get eaten." added Lars. It was good to see that Lars’ sense of humor equaled that of Sven.
"You boys have some questions ? On the phone you asked about an economy based on constant growth. Well let me tell you, that which can’t go on forever, won’t. Depending on the pie always getting bigger is like eating your seeds for the future crops, or eating your laying hens, or your breeding stock." said Sven.
"Of course, some will always find a way to profit right to the end." added Lars. "Did anyone ever wonder what the man who cut down the last tree on Easter Island was thinking? Have any of you ever read ‘The Tragedy of the Commons’? Some of these things are happening over in Chalcedony County right now. They have been trying very hard to have an aggrandizement policy for their area, to have some guidelines for growth. Then along comes these three neanderthals and they start verbally abusing anyone who they perceive to be standing in their way."
"Just who are these idiots?" someone asked.
"I’ll just give you a little background on them." answered Lars. "Idiot number one is just a loudmouth bully who thinks he’s still playing in his sandbox with the smaller kids, number two’s claim to fame is his willingness to cross a picket line and number three is the kid from the Chalcedony County crime family who they sent to law school."
"Wow!" someone exclaimed. "Aren’t you worried that the bully might come after you?"
"Well, if he does I guess it’ll be my name on his mailbox." answered Lars.
"I think they might benefit from anger management classes." added Sven
"That picket crossing bit kinda rankles me." said Bill Woods. All good working men are obligated to lend a hand to all branches of honorable toil but crossing a picket line should earn one a lifetime of scorn, as one unworthy of assistance."
"Amen." rose up collectively from the thinkers.
"The truth is out there, let’s free it!" was Sven’s parting words.
"Read the Tragedy of the Commons, book report due next week." added Lars.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tragedy_of_the_commons Will get you there. dd

well being (or being well?)

2008-07-22T14:53:00.001-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, #XV
By Dick Darne 7-21-08
As my readers have noticed, the Think Tank has been on vacation for a few weeks. I had pretty well shut my own brain down for a rest, while enjoying the company of my granddaughters and nieces. Things throughout the country and world did not improve but probably worsened. In spite of all the fist pumping, rah-rah, we are number one, shining beacon on the hill, can do no wrong chosen nation rhetoric, reality must take over eventually.
What have we to show for thirty years of rule by whackoes? Over four thousand of our finest young people in their graves, countless Iraqi civilians dead, a quantum multiplication of terrorists, torture as a matter of policy and the reputation of our country, which at one time was the envy of the world, is in the dumpster. Practically all of the mainstream media firmly in control of the largest corporations, rivaling if not surpassing Pravda in churning out propaganda. The airwaves filled with hate and fearmongering, what passes for public discourse dominated by fear and loathing of all things different from us. So the descent begins; fear, hate, dehumanize, persecute, imprison, enslave, torture and kill.
Let’s take a look at the Terrorist Watch list, compiled by our illustrious Dept. Of Homeland Terror. They have about one million "terrorists" on it. That’s one in three hundred. Look around. In Alberton, that’s about one and a half terrorists. In the other areas, you do the math. Or to put it another way, there would be three hundred terrorists at a U. Of Nebraska Huskers football game. If memory serves me, the last time we had actual terrorists kill people on campus was at Kent State, when the Ohio Nat. Guard fired on the students, who were peacefully protesting. There is a far greater danger of being killed by a comet or meteor, so better get comet/meteor insurance today. Come to think of it, we are hundreds of times more likely to be killed by a dog than a wolf. Get a dog rider on the policy. Don’t forget that fear makes you stupid.
How’s our well being, as related to the rest of the world? Well, we are ranked forty second from the top in our life expectancy. Thirty fourth in infant survival. We are five percent of the world’s population, but we account for twenty four percent of the people in prisons. We spend more on health care (5,200,000,000/day) and yet have shorter lives than any west European or Nordic country.
There’s lots more food for thought, such as, rising prices, food shortages and starvation in much of the world, corporate thievery, war profiteering and corruption. There are thieves and murderers walking around unpunished. There are cowards from both parties enabling, if not participating, in all this. There’s lots more, I’m calling the Think Tank back to duty soon.
Be fearless and use your cognitive abilities. Stay tuned. dd

hiawatha

2008-07-15T00:10:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, # XIV
By Dick Darne 7-14-08
Bike trip # 2 report. I and my niece, Debbie (a former AHS BB star) my two great nieces and my granddaughter rode the Hiawatha last week. After somewhat of a late start, frantic packing of essentials and tying five bikes on the "Swedish Suburban", we hit the road about noon. I was a little concerned about the girls navigating the tunnel but they took to it like a bunch of bats. Since I towed the trailer with all the goodies and had last pick of the lights, I didn’t do quite as well but looking at the brighter side, I had two hikes, pushing a bike and trailer well over three miles. Everyone enjoyed the trip in spite of the less than stellar administration of the trail. We had purchased return trips on the bus, the last one supposedly leaving the far end at quarter past four. An hour before that, with less than four miles to go, we were hurried along by one of the trail marshals. "Stop reading the signs and hurry along, we don’t want to delay the bus." he said. We hurried. Arriving at the end we came upon a very long line of bikes and riders, seventy eight to be exact. After asking what the capacity of the bus was, (twenty-five), it was apparent that it would take three buses and leaving three riders behind. No apologies from the "hurry up" guy, but a lame explanation of "things happen". In fairness, the other marshals did apologize, and the blame in any account should be directed upwards, the management knew how many tickets were sold, and should have been able to plan accordingly. We had to wait two hours for the third bus, which actually was the first bus because they only had two busses running. Oh yes, I almost forgot, this happened the last time I was here. My parting experience with the trail was more pleasant though. As I was slogging through the tunnel to get to the car, one of the marshals, a young lady whose name escapes me, slowed to my pace and made sure I got through the tunnel safely. This will still be the last time I will pay them any money to ride the Hiawatha. I hope when the Montana portion is opened it will be managed better. Poor Nellie, the Wonder Dog had to sit this one out but she’s speaking to me again. dd

Nellie's ride

2008-07-08T00:24:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, # XIII
By Dick Darne 7-7-08
Special newsflash: Nellie the Wonder Dog finishes her first big bike trip. Nellie and me, along with two more adventurers, Mike Darne and David Roberts, rode down from Lookout Pass to Henderson last Sunday. In keeping with the explorer tradition, just like they did back in the golden years of adventure when hardy souls went out and looked for stuff, we just forged ahead, in spite of danger and hardship.
The danger was mostly the ride to the pass through a typical Montana road maintenance construction area, although we did encounter a moose who obviously was scared away by Nellie. The hardship had it’s seeds in the very beginning of the trip and there are two distinct viewpoints.
"Are you going to download that google map?" I was asked, goes version #1, to which I allegedly replied: "Nah, we don’t need no stinkin’ map, nobody ever saw John Wayne read a map, did they?"
Or version #2: "If you guys’ll wait a minute I’ll download this map." to which the reply was: "Just hurry up, we gotta get on the road."
When we got to the pass, we unloaded the bikes and started the quest. From memory, it seemed that we should take a left and we would be on the old railroad grade. We did so and we were sailing down on an old mostly paved road. It seemed too good to be true. It was. According to my GPS, we had travelled 2.4 miles and dropped 1200 feet in elevation when we encountered the deadest end you could imagine. A fellow camped there confirmed our worst suspicions; we were on the wrong trail, which wouldn’t have happened if I had been allowed to get the map. I tried to tell them but they just wouldn’t listen. Pedaling 1200 feet up in two and a half miles qualifies as a hardship of sorts.
Since their minds were now poisoned against my pathfinding skills, I was outvoted and they went to the ski lodge and got directions and a map. It was a left alright, just a little further down a different road. We were now on the old NP grade which brought us to Saltese, where we had cold drinks and ice cream at the hotel. Nice folks, who gave us more directions, which took us up and across the old trestle and eastbound on the Old Milwaukee. Along about Haugan we encountered a little refreshment stand right on the trail, where they sold the one thing a cyclist really appreciates; snow cones. Nellie appreciated hers, she was starting to flag a little, the temperature at 100 degrees now. Some more helpful directions got us to the other car at Henderson, a shuttle back to the pass, a ride to Alberton and the adventure was over. Other than the opening fiasco, the other problems were minor; loose gravel and ruts required full time and attention to the riding and a washout mandated a short backtrack, which had I put fresh batteries in the GPS I could have noted.
I’ll be doing this again with the goal of mapping out the route and noting obstacles to smooth biking. I’d like to have a route from Alberton to the pass without riding on the Interstate. Like minded cyclists keep in touch. dd

Timmy, me boy

2008-06-30T22:38:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol VI, #XII
By Dick Darne 6-30-08
This week I would like to pay tribute to one of the finest musicians I ever played with, both on stage or just jamming. Twenty nine years ago I arrived in Alberton on the forth of July weekend. Someone took me over to the Lumberjack, where I observed a young man playing the dobro with the band. Since I came from the heartland of bluegrass music, I did know how it was supposed to sound and sound like it, it did. A short time later, when I had the Petty Creek Band and played a few years in Chet’s on Friday nights, I was introduced to Tim Ishler, the dobro player. Whenever we were lucky enough to get a paying job, we would try to get Tim to play with us, although he was in such demand, it wasn’t always possible. He not only was a master on the dobro, but he became master of all the stringed instruments. He could sing any part and knew his way around the stage and sound system. In short, he was one of the best.
Tim’s talents didn’t stop there, he served our town in the fire department, rising to Chief. He studied and trained and became an EMT. He was truly talented, but used his talents to help people enjoy a better world rather than pursue the almighty dollar. For a couple of years he would hitch a ride from Missoula to Alberton with me, where I found him to be quite capable of properly thinking as we discussed multiple topics on the long ride home. We never got to play much as the years went on, life’s many demands weighing in on both of us, but I’ll surely miss him. I will never forget the mournful, bluesy sound he would coax from the "old hound dog" or the "bells in his banjo" as only a gifted few could do. The only stringed instrument I never heard him play was the harp. Do you suppose?
Timmy, me boy, you picked and sang more than most. It still wasn’t enough. You were a part of Alberton and Alberton will be a lesser place without you. dd

frank flushum, space plumber

2008-06-18T00:43:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, #XI
By Dick Darne 6-17-08
After browsing through the news reports for the last few weeks, I have decided to write another story telling the truth behind the headlines. The story they don’t want you to know but must be told. Of course there will always be a mother out there who will forbid her children from reading these stories, claiming that I am filling their little heads with nonsense. Or someone somewhere who will have his breakfast ruined, but this is a small price to pay. And yes, I’ll protect my sources, so if anyone needs help in getting the truth out, you can come to me.
Remember a couple weeks ago, when there was a plumbing problem on the space station and a courageous space plumber saved the day? Well it was not the first time. We will now tell of the first plumber in space, Frank Flushum.
Back in the early days of space travel, we were going to send a ship out to explore the solar system. This was in the days when Pluto was still a planet, and they figured that the ten years in space was too dangerous for humans, so they trained a monkey to fly the ship. At the last minute, just before blast-off, the business manager for the local having jurisdiction got a court order, citing the need for a man aboard a manned craft and since plumbers have been protecting the health of our nation for many years, a plumber must be on board.
"Scrub the launch and find us a plumber!" said Mission Control.
A notice was posted, but only our hero, Frank Flushum stepped forward.
"Here’s your space bibs and krapoline alloy pipe wrenches, all you have to do is ride along and fix anything that breaks. The monkey has been trained to fly the ship. Bon voyage!" they instructed as the countdown resumed.
"5,4,3,2,1, we have a liftoff!" cried Houston, as the mighty ship with brave Frank rose above the earth, into orbit and then onward to the outer reaches of our solar system, boldly going where no plumber had ever gone before.
After a few weeks in space, poor Frank was lamenting the fact that not only nothing had broken, but the monkey appeared quite confident in his abilities to command the ship, even fixing all the meals. Frank thought more and more about less and less, which is not always a good thing.
"Jeez, when we get back, old Bozo here will get a tickertape parade down Madison Avenue and I’ll just be the dumb old plumber. I can fly the ship. The monkey’s got a manual, tells him just what to do, I can read." thought Frank. "I think I’ll just kill him and shoot him out the tube. I’ve got almost ten years to think up a good story."
So he does. He adjusts the command chair, opens the book, checks all the controls and away he goes.
"Nothing to it, piece of cake." Frank mused aloud. Then he read the last page.
"DON’T FORGET TO FEED THE PLUMBER THREE TIMES A DAY!" In big bold print.
With apologies to all my brothers, dd

smell the roses

2008-06-10T14:30:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #X
By Dick Darne 6-10-08
Smell The Roses
Now for some musings from beautiful downtown Alberton. Too wet to plow. Too cold, wet and windy to cycle. Grass can be heard growing. Spring cleaning is too much work. River too muddy to fish. So it’s time to fill my faithful readers’ heads with nonsense.
Let’s start with: "the Gazebo, the real story, uncensored." Unknown to most people, the almost completed gazebo is the realization of a lifelong dream of Mayor Joe Hanson. I sent one of my investigative reporters back to his hometown to dig up the real story, right out of his childhood dirt pile, where he spent his happy childhood building little gazebos out of sticks and rocks and stubbornly rebuilding them when the other kids would stomp them into the dirt, calling him "gazebo head" in the process. Poor little Joe would scream at them: "Some day I’ll have the bestest gazebo in the whole world and you can’t stop me!" Well it took many years, life’s other demands using all his time, until recently he was able to wrest a pile of materials from Mother Nature’s reclamation process and ramrod a crew into hard labor, bringing to fruition his dream. While not completed yet, it stands as inspiration to all with dreams of the bestest, right here in beautiful downtown Alberton.
Dreams of Americans instead of The American Dream.
While resting my eyes, relaxing on a park bench in Portland I was alerted to the presence of others by Nellie the Wonder Dog. A couple of old geezers with well worn bikes had sat down on the adjacent bench. They introduced themselves.
"Lester Miles is my name and this here’s Roosevelt Smelmore. Just call me Les."
"And just call me Rosie. " said the huge man, who looked like he could play front four for the Packers. "We were just noticing your seat and handlebars, just about like ours."
"Well, I did figure out a while back that the butt gives up first." I replied
"And the next is the elbows and shoulders, it’s hard to enjoy a ride with hands and arms numb." said Les.
"Yeah, we’ve been riding many years now and it used to be a test of pain to take a long ride but we finally noticed what we weren’t noticing." added Rosie.
"What’s that?" I asked
"The roses. Take time to smell the roses." one of them said and then they were gone.
It does make sense. Ride less miles and smell more roses.
One last muse: I miss my buddy Tom.
Take the time! dd

lost trails

2008-05-27T23:43:00.001-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, #IX
By Dick Darne 5-27-08
This article will be about how I turned a five day trip to Portland into high adventure. (And sorta made me feel young again.) The main characters are me and my faithful companion, Nellie the Wonder Dog and a few people I met on the way.
The first one I met a few days before I left, a gentleman named Richard, who was cycling from Bend Oregon to Duluth Minnesota. He had a rest stop here in Alberton, where he told of his adventures spanning several weeks since leaving Bend. He told of some trails that were there and some a little hard to find. Since some of these trails could be useful cycling to Portland, I decided to check them out along with Nellie, since she is in intensive bicycle training.
We cranked up and loaded the old Volvo and headed west on I-90. The first stop was in Couer D’Alane, where the trail runs to the Wash. State line and joins the Centennial Trail, which runs along the Spokane River to River Park. First problem; no overnight parking anywhere around CDA except pay parking at the Inn. Great! Public money builds trails and you can’t get away from paying somebody. Washington side is much better, except no overnight parking but a note on the windshield and a cell phone number should keep the tow truck away, according to some locals. Things are looking better, this would be two days riding, now I only need a cheap motel.
Now to find the elusive trail from Spokane to Tri-Cities. We stopped in Cheney and on the way to city hall we came onto a bicycle shop that also was a music store and an animal house. The owner didn’t know much about the trail but he was a good enough salesman to sell me a combination picking stool and guitar holder. City hall sent me to the trail head which was unmanned, so gleaning what we could from the posted map, Nellie and I headed down the back roads through the wheat fields. Our combined sense of direction sort of led us down the wrong road, which was surprising, since it sure seemed we were going right.
We finally crossed the trail many miles down the road but had no idea where the interstate was. The postmistress in a town smaller than Alberton tried to send us back to Cheney then informed us we were so far off the interstate that it made no difference which way we went. We finally got back on track, but we would never make it to Portland in time for my granddaughter’s play.
It was not a good time to cycle in Portland, it being the monsoon season. We got Nellie some heavy traffic experience and while it was close, she didn’t dump me onto the pavement in public. Pain is tolerated easier than embarrassment. While resting in one of Portland’s many fine parks, I met two cyclists, Lester Miles and Roosevelt Smelmore. We’ll save them for later, as I’m running out of space. Also we checked out the Montana side from the pass down and it deserves an actual expedition, coming soon to a newspaper near you. Anyone up for some riding? No speed demons need apply. dd

level of incompetence

2008-05-20T22:32:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, # VIII
By Dick Darne, 5-20-08
"So, tell me,"said Johnny, "do you suppose Gno’s rant upset anybody?"
"I imagine a few of the diehards who are without much sense of humor." replied Bill. "of course most of them are pretty well disconnected from reality anyway."
"I think most of them have allowed their intellectual facilities to atrophy from watching too much Fox News, especially O’Reilly and Hanninty." added Todd. "The sad thing is they have been used and they don’t even realize it. They form the ‘enabling base’ for one of the most corrupt administrations in history."
"Enough to ruin one’s breakfast, just thinking about it." said Bill. "You know, I’ve done my share of drinking in my day and came up in a family of hard drinkers, so it’s not hard to spot a guy hitting the sauce pretty heavily, or a dry drunk at the least. I really believe the shrub is drinking again."
"That’s not good." replied Johnny. "At his best, it’s scary knowing his finger is on the trigger, if he’s hitting the sauce, that’s really scary."
"Here’s something else to think about," said Todd. "Remember the ‘Peter Principle?"
"Sure do," said Bill, "One is usually promoted until he can no longer handle the job, which becomes his ‘level of incompetence’, and there he remains."
"Well, it looks like the rules don’t apply to the members of the ‘Bush Crime Family’ or he’d still be mismanaging Arbusto." said Todd. "He’s probably set some kind of record for being in over his head."
"All of this is intended to stimulate some kind of discussion, bring things out into the daylight, maybe some friendly banter and exchange of ideas, but if anyone gets upset, we, as collective thinkers should offer some advice." said Bill. "Go ahead, Gno, you tell the nice folks."
"Well, just don’t read it unless you have some chamomile tea handy. Don’t waste the rest of this fine paper, read everything else but recycle this part. Line the bird cage. Pick up dog poop. Start your fire. Highest and best use.
Oh mister block you were born by mistake.........." as Gno went out singing.
dd

Willie Sutton

2008-05-06T23:21:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #VII
By Dick Darne 5-6-08
The education of Me and cousin Freddie, ch. 4
After the two-finger earlock gently guided me to the Principal’s office, I was presented as a troublemaker, even though I was convinced that I was brightening up an otherwise dull day. Freeing people from their daily hum-drum existence. Maybe some sort of folk hero. Alas, after being given one last chance for the umpteenth time, I blew it by a string of daring escapes from the classrooms, this time without the help of Freddie and earning me the new monicker of "Willie Sutton. Now, you younger people might not know who Willie Sutton was, so I will explain. Willie was to bank robbers as the Mona Lisa is to art. (If you don’t know what the Mona Lisa is, consult an art expert). Willie, when asked why he robbed banks, replied: "because that’s where the money is." Willie also escaped from prison several times, only to rob another bank, get caught again and get sent back to the calaboose. Maybe he was best at getting caught.
Later in the spring, almost at the conclusion of the school year, I was sitting in class on the second floor of our huge old high school. Matter of fact, all my classes were on the second floor, to prevent escaping out the window. My reputation was suffering, the guys were hurling disparaging remarks like rapier thrusts. "They got your little a.. now!" "You’ll never get outa here!"
With all the bravado I could muster I retorted: "Oh yeah, see that tree limb out there, I’m going out the window, down the tree and outa here!"
All their words of encouragement terminated with the old standby: "I double dog dare you, you chicken!" this could not go unanswered. The window was on the way to the pencil sharpener, the teacher was oblivious to her environment, busy reading a romance novel or something, so after a few trips, I had the ventillator glass out, (you oldsters will know what that was) the window up and countdown about to begin. Only one small problem, looking out the window, I calculated the height above the ground to be several hundred feet at least and the limb at least thirty feet away. To the chorus of "chicken, barrrrk-barrrk, etc. honor and duty overcame fear. Also stupidity overcame good sense, so out the window, on the limb and down the tree, leaving a good bit of my own bark but regaining my good name. One glance back before the mad dash to freedom made it all worth it. Not so much the looks of admiration from my peers, but the look on the teacher’s face. No matter, thanks to the telephone, I was dead meat when I got home.
You young folks out there, please don’t try this, I was a trained professional. dd

Gno's rant

2008-04-30T00:56:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #VI
By Dick Darne 4-29-08
"How in the world are we supposed to move around in here, what with all these bikes all over the place?" seemed to be the first question of the day for the think tank.
"I think, with the price of fuel and the impending end of transportation as we all know and love so well, coupled with the demise of our neighborhood salvage yards, Old Crazy Dick figures to corner the market on bicycles." was the reply.
"Yeah, things are pretty much a mess now, three- fourths of our fellow citizens feel that way."
"But, what about the other fourth, how can that be explained?" was the next question.
"Well, some are far removed from any effects of the economy, having so much and feeling so superior to the unwashed masses, but the biggest bunch can be explained by their tendency to ‘just not get it’, easily recognized by their invisible craniums which are hidden from view by a lot of sand or the outer part of one of their prominent bodily orfices. One would think that they could see the plundering and squandering of our treasury, the wasting of our young people’s lives, the shoddy treatment of those returning from a war and occupation based on lies, the deterioration of our infrastructure, the foxes guarding the henhouse, the trashing of our constitution and bill of rights and having seen all of this, they would be sharpening their pitchforks. These people and their ilk are the ultimate enablers and the common gene pool would be better served by first cousins than them. If they had any semblance of honor, they would voluntarily submit to sterilization." ranted Gno in his usual mince no words manner.
"But Gno, shouldn’t we engage them and find common ground or something?" asked Johnny.
"How would one find common ground with those who would take all your liberties away, let them take only half? Enslave you, settle for serfdom? Some things are not negotiable. Ever!" Replied Gno.
Bill chimed in: "I think it’s time to read our history, we’ve been here a few times before and we should realize that if all of history was a line drawn from here to the county line, our little portion would be only a dot. Just during that ‘dot’, there has been one people’s revolt in a ‘civilized’ country resulting in heads rolling into baskets sans bodies. One of the main instigators lost his too. Just one ‘dot’ earlier in another civilized country they dug up Mr. Cromwell, author of an earlier revolt, who had been executed and in the grave for a decade, and after a fair trial, hung him, beheaded him and hung his head over London Bridge."
"Jefferson said that we need to nourish the Tree of Liberty with the blood of tyrants from time to time, but once it starts it can’t always be controlled. Taken in context of history, it’s probably a good thing." added Todd.
"And keep our pitchforks sharp!" said Gno. "And if any of you nice folks don’t believe any of this, just look it up." then he started to sing: Oh Mr. Block you were born by mistake, you make me ache, you take the cake. Tie a rock on your block and go jump in the lake, kindly do that for liberty’s sake." dd

The Education of Me and Cousin Freddie, ch. 3

2008-04-22T22:39:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Pa pers Vol. VI, #V
By Dick Darne 4-8-08
The Education of Me and Cousin Freddie, chapter 3
I can only tell this story because after 50 years, the statute of limitations has to have run out. It began sometime in our early days as adventure seeking young men (otherwise known as little brats full of mischief). At first glance, it was a thing of beauty, after a few more glances it became a piece of junk. It was an old .32 caliber rimfire pistol, exactly where we found it I am unable to remember, but I do remember it was so worn out that we would have to wedge a penny between the cylinder and the frame in order to make it fire. We had to have a supply of pennies handy, as upon firing, the coin would sail over into the bushes while the slug would shave off parts of itself, missing the target completely and propelling slices of lead to both sides. It was best operated with your assistant directly behind you with his back turned.
One lazy spring morning, as the sun rose up and bathed us in stupid rays, we decided to play hookey, go into the big city and see if we could sell it at a pawn shop. We hitched a ride into the city and were left with a couple of miles to traverse on foot. At that exact time, the sun, after sharing it’s stupid rays with us decided to take the rest of the day off and turn everything over to rain and cold. We were soaked when we got to the pawn shop.
"Can I help you boys?" the pawnbroker asked.
"Yes, we would like to sell this pistol." we answered as we set it on the counter, not knowing that not only were handguns illegal in the city but we were way too young to even be in that place.
"You boys wait right here, I’ll be right back." he said as he disappeared into the back room.
About that time the stupid rays wore off and we were both seized with newfound wisdom. Our simultaneous mental telegrams said the same thing; HE’S CALLING THE COPS, LET’S GET OUTA HERE! We grabbed the pistol and ran out the door and into the rain. The only safe route was to walk out of town on the old canal towpath, long and wet. We got back to our town and hid out in the hayloft of a horse barn until school ended. We got busted for hookey, but our folks never knew the details of the adventure .but wait, there’s more.
One of the shells stayed in my pocket, kinda like a good luck charm until close to the end of school, on a day that the sun was bathing us in lazy rays while the teacher droned on and on. I pulled my lucky shell out and noticed the slug was a little loose. With a little help from my compass point, I managed to pry it apart. I poured the minute amount of powder into a folded piece of paper and put it away for future experimentation. I looked into the casing and saw what appeared to be some powder left around the rim. No problem, my trusty compass point should scrape it loose. About the second scrape, a flash, a hearty YEOWW and some slightly singed fingers broke the grip of our daily humdrum existence in that class. Brightened up the teacher’s otherwise dull day too. Infused me with newfound knowledge, I now knew what a rimfire was. The teacher applied the two-finger earlock on me and drug me to the office. These days I would be branded a terrorist and probably waterboarded, but back then it was just one more badge of honor to be seen as cool hand luke before he was even invented. Losing half of Uncle Fred’s shotgun is a story for another day. Never let ‘em see you sweat. dd

hank

2008-04-16T00:47:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #IV
By Dick Darne 4-15-08
Alberton has lost another of it’s denizens a few days ago, Hank McKirdy, a first class citizen and a first class thinker. I knew Hank for the most of the last thirty years and enjoyed many a breakfast, lunch, dinner or just coffee with accompanying dialogue on a multitude of subjects. While we didn’t always agree, it was always enjoyable and a pleasure to hear him present his point of view. He also was a world class expert on plunder as practiced in our area, that is to say that he had a talent for seeing the potential value of things discarded as worthless by the unenlightened. He could also fit a new handle into tools, something not all of us can do, including myself, which is why during the years when my boys were breaking at least a tool a week, I may have been one of Hank’s Handle’s biggest customers.
Hank’s biggest story may have began many, many years ago as a young man in the midst of a world war. Some may know the story and it must be told. Hank’s song could be the equivalent of a gold record. I hope he didn’t take all his stories with him, but whatever, I am sure he will do quite well on his new adventure. See you for coffee sometime Hank, and I’m proud to have known you. dd

stella

2008-04-08T23:37:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, # III
By Dick Darne 4-7-08
Another sad day in Alberton. Stella Wylie has passed away at the age of 97. I got to know Stella a little bit over the last few years when Tom Wheeler and I would go over to reassure her that her furnace was working. We would usually visit for a short while and she would tell us some stories from her past. She told us that she came here from Portland Oregon as a young lady (although she never said exactly when) and how she was a cook in Honest Tom Bailey’s hunting camp, cooking for "eastern dudes". She told of one particular story about some clients from New York who would party a little too hard at night and be quite sick the next morning. She would fix them an "easy to keep down breakfast" and help them recover enough to actually go hunting the next day. They rewarded her efforts with generous gratuities which enabled her to have central heating installed in her house. They also returned year after year to the camp.
Now when one makes it to 97 years, we can assume they lived a long and full life and if any of us makes it anywhere near that, we could figure we got our money’s worth. Now, here is the sad part, Stella had many, many stories and we were all too lazy to listen and record them. She got to sing her songs, but we didn’t listen to all of them. There are hundreds, if not thousands of stories right here in our little town. We should be collecting them Studs Terkel style, a good listener and a tape recorder. We all have to leave sometime but the stories should remain behind. The stories are our past, the past is our heritage and the parting gift from our elders is their accumulated wisdom and knowledge.
Our library should have all of Studs Terkel’s books. Keep listening and remembering.
Farewell Stella. dd

wheres all the money go?

2008-04-02T00:09:00.001-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #II
By Dick Darne 4-1-08
"Can you hear me now?" came the voice of our old friend and consultant, Professor Sven Berkowitz, from the North Dakota Institute of Financial Technology.
"Yeah, real good," someone said. "I guess Dick’s ‘lo-tech’ phone system pieced together with Goodwill cordless phones must be working."
"Ah, wunnerful, wunnerful!"replied Professor Berkowitz. "Just call me Sven, just don’t call me late for lunch, I hear you have good cooks up at your Senior Citizens’ lunch. Maybe we could even finagle a ‘mid morning snicker-snack’, eh. You have some questions, maybe about where all the money goes, huh?"
"Well, we were all wondering, just where the money goes when we hear about a big company going bankrupt, or big losses on wall street, stuff like that." asked Bill.
"Well, one of the first things we teach here at Nodak U, is that figures don’t lie, but liars figure." Answered Sven. The next thing is that the boodle doesn’t just vaporize into the air, but rather tends to wind up in someone’s pocket or offshore bank account. Then one should always remember that when the market fluctuates, some gain and some lose, but a few always seem to gain, those who have ‘insider knowledge’ are severely tempted and even if it is against the law, one or more of the seven deadly sins usually wins out."
"How about that big company, Bear- Stearns, how could a company that big fail?" asked Johnny.
"Greed, mostly" answered Sven. "Of course, the muckity-mucks at the top will make out, albeit in somewhat diminished opulence. they were all ‘free-marketeers’,but what that actually means is they keep the profits , but pass as many costs as possible on to someone else, like as not the taxpayer."
"What about this ‘stimulus payment’ about to be mailed out, do you think that will help?" asked Todd
"Ah, glad you asked that" replied Sven. "Mostly it will be used to buy cheap plastic crap from the likes of Wal-Mart. Mostly it will go to China and to obscene compensation for their executives. Boost for them, gone and over for us. Probably get the checks just before the election, but I think people are not as dumb as some would believe."
"Let me add to that," exclaimed Gno. Those practices have been the norm for most corporations for a long time. They have lobbied hard to make the practices legal, still shameful, but hey, as they proudly proclaim, greed is good. If they actually had any shame, we would be hearing a coast to coast moan as they all committed simultaneous ritual sepuku. If the people had real cojones they would do it for them. They are truly America’s enemies. They pocket the profits and when things go sour, take the handout."
"There you have it, boys, now you know about the ‘Vile Maxim of the Masters.’ gotta go now, gotta get over and check on our study of Alvinville. Always wunnerful to talk to you boys, call me anytime and keep thinking."
I have to go now too, I have to call cousin Freddie about our education. dd

The Vile Maxim of The Masters

2008-03-25T23:51:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #I
By Dick Darne 3-25-08
"Well, the chamomile tea sure smooths out your tummy and calms your faculties"
said Bill. "If it was good enough for Peter Rabbit then it’s good enough for me."
"So, these guys just kept on ‘communicating’ to us working folks about the wonders of the ‘Free Market’ and being fiercely independent, neither asking for help from any man nor giving help to any man. If anyone couldn’t realize the American Dream, then it must be a moral failure on their part." added Johnny.
"What they conveniently failed to disclose to us peons was that they meant ‘Free Market’ for us and the Nanny State for themselves." explained Todd. "Corporate welfare far, far exceeds welfare for the general populace. People pulling together towards a common goal, benefitting all, is anathema to them. Better to have ‘everyone for himself’, ‘survival of the fittest’, anything to divide and conquer."
"Remember the nutcase up north of here, still in the legislature I think, who advocated teaching Adam Smith’s ‘Wealth of Nations’ in our classrooms, as do a lot of the ‘Free Marketeers’?" asked Bill. "Most of them probably never actually read it but are quick to selectively quote it. I slogged through it and found it hard going, only a glutton for punishment would relish a cover to cover journey. I do remember a couple things that stood out that these guys never mention. First is old Adam’s bit about the division of labor, how it turned men into wretches. The second is ‘The Vile Maxim of The Masters’ in which he described it as ‘all for me, nothing for anyone else.’ "
"Unregulated, free market capitalism was also described by Keynes as: ‘an extraordinary belief that the nastiest of men for the nastiest of motives will somehow work for the benefit of all.’ " added Todd. "Don’t get me wrong, I believe in our system, but it does need a bit of regulating from time to time."
"It surely shouldn’t be naming bridges, schools and hospitals after the ‘Captains of Industry’ who in most cases are nothing more than plundering, pillaging buccaneers." exclaimed Gno, who once again proved he wasn’t sleeping. "And maybe our fearless leaders should stop trying to define the ‘American Dream’ and focus on ‘The Dreams of Americans’. Just what would Jesus do? Seems like the only butts he ever kicked was the moneychangers. We not only need to be informed, but we all need long memories."
Tune in next week, when our guest Professor Sven Berkowitz from the NoDak Institute of Financial Technology will explain just where all this lost money goes and how it relates to ‘The Vile Maxim of The Masters’. Thanks to all my faithful readers for slogging thru 100 of the Alberton Papers. dd

tommie me lad

2008-03-16T22:05:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XX
By Dick Darne 3-16-08
"What’s with old Dick today?" someone asked. "He looks like he lost his best friend."
"He has," answered Johnny. "Tom Wheeler went on his final Vision Quest on this side a few days ago."
"That has to hurt." added Todd. "Dick told me about some of his ‘high adventures’ with Tom, like one time about 25 years ago when they went up in the high country, stayed several days, no tent, just Dick, Tom and the dog, sleeping on the ground. They even lost track of the days. The drank a whole bottle of maple syrup for quick energy. Took a bath in Cedar Log Lake while the ice and snow was melting around them. Kinda reminds me of a couple lines in an old song:
‘Up in the high country, up in the high country,
Prettiest place in all this world, up in the high country.’
It surely is something Dick will never forget."
"I remember another time Dick told me about, when He and Tom packed a lunch and visited the place he grew up and played." added Bill. "long after, on their shorter adventures, they used to swap stories of their childhood adventures. Can we ever go home again? I don’t know if they ever resolved that one, except there’s a better chance on the other shore. Just what that was they never decided either. Once again, lines from an old song:
‘Another was called just a few weeks before,
Two who bloom like roses over on the other shore.’
Memories like this stay with you until the end of your time."
"Tom used to keep Dick tuned in to the real world, he would often remind Dick when he was getting a little full of it and it was advice well taken." said Todd.
Then the music started, faintly and words could be heard, seeming to come from everywhere.
"Way up there in the mountain air, they used to go a questing
As the years went by they couldn’t get as high, without a little resting
It’s done for one, for now there’ll be no more
I won’t be sad for Tommie me lad, we’ll be questing on the other shore."
dd

The Great Communicator

2008-03-12T00:34:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XIX
By Dick Darne 3-11-08
"Tell me more" said Johnny. "How do you ‘check things out’?"
"Lots of ways", replied Todd. "A big list of forwardees is one tipoff. Sometimes the absurdity of the content. If it’s loaded with lots of ‘feel-good, psuedo patriotic homilies which insinuate that any who do not agree must be un-american, then the truth has been lost somewhere along the line. Of course there are several web sites devoted to dispelling myths and debunking misinformation."
"Yeah, I can remember back when all they had was the good old rumor mill and they just called you a ‘dirty commie’. Of course, that can’t be used anymore because the commies are extinct now, defeated by ‘The Great Communicator’ in one profound command to ‘tear down this wall!’ Added Bill.
"That’s what they would have you believe" interjected Gno, "except it was really a Polish Union Electrician and Solidarity that brought down the Soviet Union of Thugs.
"Why was Reagan called ‘the Great Communicator’ anyway?" asked Johnny. "Was he the first to use these methods of communicating?"
"Let me explain this one." answered Elder. "For aeons there have been great communicators, and mostly they achieved big immediate results, but sometimes the long term results were a disaster. We’ll just skip ahead to a point not so far back, say about seventy some years ago, to two men, who rose to power through a combination of events and their considerable oratorical prowess. Adolf Hitler inspired his countrymen to bite off a lot more than they could chew, ending in disaster. Franklin D. Roosevelt inspired his people and together we were able to overcome the great depression and a world war. Communicating itself is just a tool, it can be used for good or bad. Bill here was around for the rise of ‘the great communicator’, let him fill you in on that."
"Let me confess that I was seduced by the ‘great one’ and even voted for him the first time." said Bill. "I’m actually old enough to remember Goldwater, so I will begin there. Since 1933, the republicans had been in the political wilderness, except for a short period right after WW II, after which they were sent back again. They tried again in the 60's with Goldwater and back again they went. They got smarter and craftier, not wise by any means, but looked for a way to get people to come over to their point of view. Voila’, there he was, a grade B actor who could read his script. Of course there was that little matter of ‘ratting’ out his own Union brothers in the Actor’s Guild, but that never really came up. He had been in the employ of one of the world’s largest corporations, yes good old GE, merchants of death and destruction and owners of NBC. He played his part well. First governor of California, then President of the United States of America. Old habits die hard, right out of the chute he destroys the air traffic controllers union and sets the pace for an all out assault on organized labor and the working folks of America!"
"Old Bill’s really getting worked up, we better take a short break for now, someone fix Bill a nice cup of chamomile tea." Said Johnny. "I’m getting an earful and I don’t want old Bill to croak on me now. Also I want to tell the nice folks out there to keep in touch, we’ll pick this up next week." dd

v5, #18, communicating with fear

2008-02-27T17:45:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XVIII
By Dick Darne 2-26-08
I was late. The new and improved Think Tank was up and running by the time I had fed the dog and got my shoes on. All the regulars were there and some others I didn’t know. All the seats were taken and just enough coffee for a half a cup, which meant that somebody whose coffee craving sent him for the last of the pot would have to make a fresh one. I started the task and began listening to the discussion. They were talking about communicating.
"A good communicator will always use more than one method in each communication." said Todd
"What do you mean, more than one method?" asked Johnny
"Well, all of your senses for starters," replied Todd, "mostly when you are trying to get a message across, it involves seeing or hearing. Obviously both can be used on television but only hearing on the radio. In print, seeing works. In person they both work and in the real world, touch, smell and taste all work. If you are selling pies, let everyone smell the wares. There’s another method that works quite well and it is emotions, especially fear and anger. They usually trump all the others, at least in the short term. Conjure up a mushroom cloud, or planes flying into buildings and buildings collapsing or hordes of turban wearing crazed fanatics pouring across the border and you have successfully delivered the "one" in the old "one-two". All rational thought goes out the window and you are now set up for the "two"
"Real easy to make people do things against their best interest. History abounds with examples. Some even brag about it." added Bill. "Did you ever listen to Rudy campaigning, every other sentence was: ‘911, 911 ,911.....’ or to the lies of this administration especially the orange alerts used to overshadow other events?"
" In my humble opinion," interjected Gno, who at first glance appeared asleep.
"One of the worst things that ever happened to rational thought is the ‘forward button’ combined with an absurd e-hatemail. The citizen’s atrophied thinking section of their brain blocks all critical thinking but enables the appropriate digit to punch the ‘forward- button’ thereby spreading hate, fear, anger, and lies like the bubonic plague."
Stay tuned, this will continue next week. Do NOT forward anything without checking it out. Turn off hate radio. Tune out fear mongers. THINK! dd

2008-02-20T12:22:00.001-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XVII
By Dick Darne 2-20-08
Now that the Think Tank has been relocated and remodeled, we will be exploring important social issues again. Before the first meeting, a review of the characters is in order. All the characters, while fictional, are composites of real people I have known, some are real people and some are imaginary, symbols of American values, that should be familiar to everyone (maybe not to those who have had no history or civics in school).
First the real people:
Bill Woods, a retired logger and truck driver, who is living on a decent pension, thanks to his Union. Bill has seen a lot and still wonders why workers can still be coerced into making choices that are not in their own best interest.
Johnny Sixgun, a firearms afficionado who came to realize that the puny power of one who owns more firepower than could be carried is dwarfed by the power of the state when it decides you are the enemy. He also realized that they don’t need a gun register list, only the NRA membership list.
Todd Young, a union pipefitter who is well read, to the point that he’d rather read the Wall Street Journal for facts (the editorials make him want to barf) than listen to the snake-oil salesmen, Paul Harvey, Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, Ann Coulter and others who not only play fast and loose with the facts, but actually make things up. He also knows the meaning of Solidarity.
Gno Lackowitz, who has a good grasp of the overall picture and the language and is not afraid to express his opinion.
Professor Sven Berkowitz , from the North Dakota Institute of Financial Technology, who is a consultant for the Think Tank. He has a brother, Lars Berkowitz, who heads up the Nodak U Political Science and Industrial Technology department.
Elder, who seems to have hundreds of years of knowledge and experience and just drifts in and out, offering only that there are other Think Tanks and he must watch them all.
The others are not real, but yet they are.
Lady Liberty, aka The Lady, who is very sad over the assault on our liberties.
Father Justice, aka Padre, who is reviewing the thinkings even when he is away.
Eternal Vigilance, aka Viggie, yours truly went on a quest last summer to find him. He is quite busy also.
Mother Nature, who is quite tough and unforgiving to those who try to fool her.
Nemi, the goddess of revenge, who at this time can only watch.
Stay tuned for some exciting times. Think more and harder. dd

The Little Old Lady from Spokane

2008-02-13T00:32:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XVI
By Dick Darne 2-12-08
This week I would like to share the storytelling talents of my friend Tom Wheeler. dd
. The little old lady, from Spokane
This story is about a little old lady from Spokane. It was a dark cold winter night , the snow was falling heavily and the wind was blowing , it across the highway making, for poor visibility. Some nights even without the wind during a snowstorm the driving conditions can be very treacherous, on Interstate 90 between French town and Tarkio, this night was no exception . All sane people should have been home setting by a warm fire .
The storm had started about 3:00 p.m. that afternoon. Guy Spence was the first one called out to go work that night. We were supposed to have the night off, because it was on a Saturday. It wasn't long after he'd been at work that he decided that he wouldn't be able the handle all the work by himself . He called dispatch in Missoula and told them that he needed help . I was just settling in for a long anticipated night off. When the dreaded ring of the phone jerked me back to reality and reminded me that in the wintertime, I owed my soul to the state highway department .After the phone call within 15 minutes I was setting behind the wheel of the snowplow and sand truck . As I was making my first-round to Tarkio to assess the needs of the highway, I was wondering what kind of an adventure I would have this night .I called Guy on the radio to see what the conditions were on the east end, his voice came back loud and clear that he was glad to see that I had came out to play. And that he had plenty to do on the east end.
The road conditions deteriorated fast as the snowstorm worsened, after about three rounds and six loads of sand , I could tell that I was going to be in for a long night . As I was plowing and sanding my way back to Alberton from Tarkio for the fourth time that night. I was at mile-marker 72 eastbound on Interstate 90 just west of Alberton, I could see the headlights of a car and it looked to me like they were in my lane . I pulled off the interstate on to the extreme right hand shoulder and stopped . Sure enough the car was heading west in the eastbound lane . I grab my flashlight and jumped out of the truck and started to wave the car down .
The driver of the car was a little old lady in her mid '80s . After I had waved her down and got her stopped, I told her that she was driving in the wrong lane . I said ma'am you are in the wrong lane and you're going to get yourself killed . She asked me what was the direction to Spokane. I pointed west and told her that was the direction to Spokane. She replied to me well! that's where I want to go and that's the direction I’m going. I replied again I know you want to head west, but if you keep traveling in this lane you are going to get ran over by a semi . I helped her, get her car turned around. I then explained to her that if she would drive east for about 4 mi. she would come to the Alberton exit. She should then make a right and go to the top of the exit. Then turn left across the bridge, and then take another left to get back on the west bound ramp. Then you will be heading west to Spokane. She then started up her car and cautiously started east. When she reached the Alberton exit she drove right on past . I passed her on the highway and stopped her at the East crossover. She asked me now what? I told her you just drove by the exit and now you are headed in the wrong direction . She replied to me that she'd been lost all dammed day . At that point, I decided that she had no business being on the road , so as I turned her car around for the second time I checked her gas gauge , it registered on full . But I still had misgivings about just turning her loose on the highway. I suggested to her that she pull over at Alberton and get a motel room . Her reply to me was no ! I cannot do that! Because I have to get home and feed my dog. All I did this morning was leave the house to get some dog food from the store. And I have just been going in circles .So as I stood there scratching my head, with a worried look she started on her way. I then called the boys that were working on section 13 to warn them about her, and for them to keep an eye out in case she got into trouble again . About two hours later , I heard a call on the radio , to the Highway Patrol that the little old lady was in trouble again . This time she had two flat tires that she was driving on slowly heading west . After the highway patrol arrived on the scene, they determined that the lady was in no condition to drive to Spokane. The Highway Patrol called Carl’s towing and had him haul her and her car to Spokane. Later we heard that she most likely had a stroke and was disoriented from it . That night she was lucky and must and have had god riding with her in the passenger seat.The storm raged all night long, and Guy Spence and I fought it until four A M. At that time we called in the joy boys to take over and finish the cleanup.That night I had put on 425 mi. on my truck and put out 12 loads of sand . When I got back to the shop, Guy said just another normal night huh!We checked out and headed home for some much needed rest . At the same time knowing that we would probably have it to do all over again the next night .

Tom

2008-02-13T00:30:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XV
By Dick Darne 2-5-08
This week I will use my space to shamelessly promote a good cause. My friend, Tom wheeler, who has been one of the mainstays of the Alberton area for many, many years, has been quite sick lately. He had to be transported to Seattle for medical help and incurred quite a few expenses not covered by insurance. I have known Tom for almost 30 years and have found him to be very generous with his time and money when someone was in need. anyone else who has known him for any time will attest to his willingness to step up and help. He is also one of our unsung heroes of Alberton and Mineral county. You name it and he has served on it. When things break, like as not, he had a hand in fixing it. He has always been a good advisor on local government matters. In short, enough platitudes, it’s time for the rest of us to help him.
This Sunday, Feb.10, at the Alberton elementary cafeteria, from 3:30 to 5:30, there will be a fund raiser for Tom. There will be a potluck dinner, silent auction and music by the Gravely Mountain Boys.
It’s time for the rest of us to step up and help, so be there! dd

The Z-man

2008-01-28T22:22:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol V, #XIV
By Dick Darne 1-28-08
This may well be the hardest article I’ve ever written. The news of Mark Zylawy’s death was like a sledgehammer to the gut. I have known him since his school days here in Alberton. He was one of the few that I had high expectations for and he not only never let me down, but he exceeded them. One of Alberton’s finest became one of Portland’s finest, providing the standard by which all true "community-based" law enforcement should be measured. He patrolled close by where his friend and my son Kevin and my daughter Meghann lived in northeast Portland. Over the years I would get to see him and chat about his work. I now wish that I had taken his offer for a "ride along". Mark was born to be polite and respectful, I can’t even imagine him behaving any other way. This earned him the respect of his fellow officer’s, the people he had sworn to protect and serve and even the respect of the ones he had to arrest.
This has been a bad year for Alberton, with lots of illness and death. It’s sad enough for the passing of those who have had a full life but it’s easier knowing that it must happen eventually. We can accept the natural order of things, but to lose one in the prime of life hits much harder. Most of us who have lived much longer will never accomplish as much as "Z-man had already done.
Mark, you may have had more verses to sing, but you already sang more than most of us. Farewell to one of the finest men I have ever known. dd

musings from beautiful downtown Alberton

2008-01-22T18:45:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XIII
By Dick Darne 1-22-08
Musings from beautiful downtown Alberton
After all the hoopla and blather associated with the football games, is there anyone else that has noticed the fount of football knowledge and rather high level of discourse both from the talking heads and the general populace? Just imagine for a moment that this was all applied to politics, the workings of government, the Constitution and the intent of our founding fathers, World history, American history, civics, how to make this world a better place, community, tolerance and so on. When I went to high school, we were taught civics, American history and American government. Don’t they do this anymore? An appropriate question would be "is our children learning?". Maybe the function of schools has morphed into a "compliant consumer factory", and heaven forbid any of our little consumer trainees should question any authority but should be content with the nice circus provided for them.
As for myself, after a bout of illness that kept me in the hospital for eight days spanning xmas day, new medicines with side effects and a very low sodium diet allowance (this means I will kill you to get your potato chips, so beware), I feel like I have earned a good deep depression but my problems pale to those of others. My best friend is in the hospital in Seattle far more ill than I was. I also am sad for all the people with inadequate health care, who may never get care until it’s too late. Maybe some of the discourse dreamed of above would apply here.
It’s still a great day to be alive in good old Alberton. I wish my friend Tom was here to enjoy it as we have almost every morning since retirement. Heal and get back here Tommy me lad. dd

histories i have known and loved

2008-01-15T00:00:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XII
By Dick Darne 1-14-08
This week I will reflect on some history books that have impressed me. It surely is not the drivel that passes for textbooks in history class, but ones that stimulated thinking and made me want more. Most were found by a serendipitous moment in the used bookstore rather than on the shelf in the big retailers or even the library.
One of the first was a well worn, dog eared copy of "The Story of Mankind" by Van Loon. That dog eared tome had me search out Van Loon’s other books, " Van Loon’s Geography", "The Story of The Bible", "The Story of America" and others.
Van Loon was a Dutchman, who was on Hitler’s hit list and fled to America just ahead of the gestapo. His books were written for his grandchildren, including his hand drawn maps and charts that he used when he was a teacher.
The next was H.G. Wells (yes the same man who wrote and is best remembered for "The War of The Worlds") who produced a two volume "Outline of History". Very complete and best of all, easy reading. I read volume two while on an eight hour delay in the Minneapolis airport. Made me hungry for more.
While the above was from the 20's and 30's, a more recent one becomes my all time favorite, Howard Zinn’s "A People’s History of The United states". It begins when Columbus landed on an island in the Carribean and literally slaughtered it’s inhabitants. Old Cris had a priest on board who documented what happened as an eye witness. Zinn tries to tell the stories from the point of view of the subjugated peoples. Zinn also wrote other books speaking for the powerless. Another book that begins at the same time and speaks for the subjugated is Chomsky"s "Year 501, the Conquest Continues". For plain old folks just speaking their minds, that old master of the tape recorder and just let them tell it like it is, Studs Terkel has several collections of stories from these plain old folks.
Out there hidden among the clutter on the hard to reach shelves in dimly lit semi organized used book stores are volumes of labor and local histories, most long out of print. "Labor’s Untold Story" is by far the best. Always take a flashlight and don’t wear a white shirt. There are tons of treasures waiting to be found. Keep searching for the truth, speak truth to power and think for yourself. dd
P.s., if you can’t find any of the aforementioned books, I will be happy to loan one out from my private collection.

historical novels

2008-01-08T22:31:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #XI
By Dick Darne 1-6-08
Let’s ruminate on the historical novel for a while. There are some that weave a fictional story into real history and the reader can not only be entertained, but his interest in the actual history can be piqued leading to further study and understanding. Of course there are the "trashy" historical novels, characterized by the cover picture, usually a beautiful blond white woman held in the arms of the handsome native, complete with heaving bosom and pulsing manhood. While appealing to the baser instincts of some, there is no real history to be learned here.
There are some authors, however who manage to combine a good story with historical accuracy. At the top of my list is James Michner. His books are all far better than the movie versions. My all time favorite is "The Source", I have read it 3 times and learned from it each time. Other authors of the same caliber are: Gore Vidal, Larry McMurtry and Louis L’Amour. At the very least, they will get you thinking.
Way back in the early 70's, I was headed home after a job way out of town. While dialing the radio, looking for something to keep me awake, I heard Howard Cossell’s voice. I had always thought of him as a loudmouth sports commentator, but this was different. He was interviewing Gore Vidal and they were discussing his new book, "Burr". As the discussion went on, the focus was on the founding of our country. They both agreed that at the beginning the best collection of brains wrote our Constitution and now days, at best, second and third rate brains are in politics. Where are the best now? Why going to Harvard business and law school, the better to pillage our country.
These authors, along with my old high school history teacher convinced me that there is always other versions of history and what is taught was written by whoever won. Next week we will explore some history books that tell the other side of the story. Until then, dd.

J. Edgar was a master of deceit

2007-12-16T22:10:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #X
By Dick Darne 12-16-07
This week we will explore the effects of a book that scared me, or I should say played to my fears. No, it was not a Steven King book, but rather one written by a self styled American hero, J. Edgar Hoover, "Masters of Deceit" It was the late ‘50s when I came into possession of a copy and sat down and read it. At this point I should explain my background and origins.
I was born in 1940 in Washington, D.C. and lived in Virginia, both of which were below the Mason- Dixon line and certainly within what is now known as "The Beltway". The short version is, I started life as a red-neck, right- wing whacko, bigoted, red blooded, commie hating American boy. J. Edgar was an American hero, he would never lie, now would he?
At the time I thought a font of wisdom had been imparted to my young brain. I didn’t know that at that very time, all the "sleeper cells" were in place, commies had infiltrated into all critical positions and just waiting for the signal and the good old U.S.A. would be no more. Suspect everyone, the walls have ears, watch your teachers, neighbors, storekeepers, friends, relatives and especially your atheist uncle. I had always thought that being an atheist meant you could throw a baseball with either hand but now I knew to watch him too. I learned how to recognize the signs that meant someone might be a commie and contact the only people that could be trusted, J.Edgar Hoover and his trusted agents. I had become a man now, I had important work to do, eyes and ears open, lips zipped until time to report.
Soon we were in the ‘60s and it even though it all didn’t register for a while truth was beginning to seep out. I blocked out most of it, I was even a "Hard- Hat for Nixon", you didn’t dare discuss these things with your fellow workers but we were busy anyway watching each other, or trying to outdo each other in the bar with tough talking rhetoric. One little spark of sanity was alive though, my Momma was no commie, and I wouldn’t have turned her in anyway.
40 some years later I had the pleasure of repairing the heating system for a retired Professor and after I told him I was retiring, we got to talking about various social issues and books we had read. He told me that he had marched with Martin Luther King and I told him how I had read about the files he kept on people and about this experience of reading J.Edgars book. His response was: Evil, evil, evil man. Not everyone rates 3 evils.
Ah, the politics of fear. To some who embrace it, the bad guys have already won. All that’s left is for them to wet their pants. Don’t buy into it .Wake up sheeple and think. We are better than fear mongers and zombies. dd

the fountainhead

2007-12-10T20:58:00.001-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #IX
By Dick Darne 12-10-07
I have noticed all the jovial bantering in the "other" newspaper in our part of the world, centering around supporters and critics of the "Ayn Rand Philosophy". I have decided to use my experiences with that philosophy and observations to do a review of the social effects of one of her major novels, " The Fountainhead". We will use the film version because I saw the film at the impressionable age of nine, (actually dragged to it by an Aunt of mine who encouraged thinking), somewhere in mid-adulthood I read the book and fifty five years later I watched the film again. At nine years old, seeing the personification of heroes himself, Gary Cooper play the lead ,I was thoroughly impressed. But we are getting ahead of ourselves, lets review the basic plot.
Our hero is a highly competent architect, who due to his unwillingness to compromise is unable to find work in his profession and finds himself toiling away in a stone quarry. The big love scene with the owners daughter did not impress me at that age, but our hero uttering the words: "I will help no man nor ask for help from any man" favorably impressed this nine year old. At sixty six he came across like a first class jerk, which testifies to both Cooper’s acting skills and some life’s experiences on my part. Moving right along, one of his architect buddies gets in way over his head and asks our hero for help designing a building, which he offers on the condition that nothing he designs be changed in any way shape or form, which as anyone in the real world knows, actually does. So he does what any real Rugged Individualist/John Wayne/Marlboro Man/ et al would do, he simply blows up the building. At nine, he’s my hero, at sixty six he seems a criminal. He gets caught (and just waits for them to come and get him), goes to trial, saves the day and his rear end by making a long impassioned speech to the jury, who promptly acquits him. Yeah, just like real life.
The author, Ayn Rand was a brilliant but misguided person. In a nutshell, she saw any combination of two or more individuals for any reason as passengers on a runaway elevator falling into communism, socialism or fascism. Her basic mantra seems to be that every person should act in their own absolute best self interest. Maybe in theory but if it were true, the world would be a worse place to live. Was she right? Food for thought. Other than the adoption of pseudo-rugged individualism by many shallow thinkers, she has left us with little of any practicality. Oh wait, she gave us Alan Greenspan, that famous champion of the common folk.
I have quite a few friends, some dating back to childhood, who are polar opposites of my political beliefs and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. That is real liberty and freedom to be able to disagree and discuss. Les Wood, let’s have a cup sometime. Right or wrong, sing your song. I love it, is this a great country or what? Stay tuned for more reviews of things that matter. dd

ghosts of pickers past

2007-11-26T21:31:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #VIII
By Dick Darne 11-26-07
On this cold dreary morning, as the thinkers were filing into the larger quarters across the drive, some could swear they were hearing faint guitar music and two part harmony coming from inside the building.
"......gonna lay down my old guitar, wish I could tie it to my side and take it along with me....."
It was becoming unmistakable to any true apostle of the roots of American Country Music that it was the sound of the Delmore Brothers. But they "left the room" over forty years ago and no one was visible in the think tank picking or singing. Oh well, any highly trained thinker knows when it’s time to shut up and listen, so they all filed in, sat down, closed their eyes and opened their cognitive receptors.
"They crushed out the old junk cars, they crushed out the old junk cars. Wish I could tie one to my side and take it along with me.."
"There goes the cultural value" someone said.
"Where you gonna get your old car part, where you gonna get your old car part.
O’Reilly, NAPA, Car Quest too, bring cash, cause they ain’t got no heart...."
"Economic advantage just flew the coop." someone else exclaimed.
"What’ll we do with our unwanted stuff, what’ll we do with our unwanted stuff. Haul it to Sanders County, they’ll tell you tough, we don’t want Mineral County’s stuff...."
"Scratch Community and Neighbors." said a familiar voice.
After each verse came the chorus and a harmony yodel, not the Swiss/Cowboy type but rather the "blue yodel" which is probably the closest a white man can come to actually singing the blues. Then came the last verse.
"They’ll dump it up the old back roads, they’ll dump it up the old back roads. In every creek and every gulch, lots and lots of loads...."
"And last, but not least, kiss the environment goodbye." several said at once.
Have the Thinkers seen and heard a ghost? Stay tuned for ruminations on finks, snakes in grass and banana gobblers and how they can redeem themselves. dd
Author’s note: listen to "lay down my old guitar" at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjk6uObbbt4

the old fool

2007-11-19T23:58:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #VII
By Dick Darne 11-19-07
The cool fall night made the wood smoke rise over the think tank. The coffee smell hung low. The thinkers were assembling. What profound ruminations would emanate from the collective imperium of the finest brains of Alberton?
"Hey, where’s that Old Fool, Dick?" someone yelled. "Don’t he ever think any more? It seems like all he ever does is dream about the good old days with cousin Freddie and all the trouble they used to get into."
"That’s kind of an escape for him, he’s been feeling a mite poorly here lately, which at his age can bring on a new appreciation of one’s own mortality, which is not helped by noticing that your doctor looks too young to be a doctor and even more not helped by an impending routine medical procedure that appears to have been conceived by someone who watches too much sci-fi channel." said Bill Woods. "I’ve been there, done that myself."
"So what happened?" asked Johnny.
"Same as me, everything worked out fine, absolutely no pain at all, not even any embarrassment. Other than having to drink a gallon of stuff that tasted like a spoiled mixture of Tang and Ovaltine in a short time, there wasn’t even any discomfort. The crap I drank back in my drinking days caused far more discomfort. When It’s over you can check off a couple more things that aren’t wrong with you. Well worth it." replied Bill. "Your Doctor may look young, but remember, he knows more than you do."
"So, what’s this ‘Plan-B’ I’ve been hearing him mumble about here lately?" asked Todd.
" Possibly a pipedream, but the Old Fool just might do it. Put the back wheels in the Pacific Ocean and ride east with the wind at your back to the Atlantic. With the right dog as your companion, to watch your back at night, which could be quite a few nights sleeping under the stars, and freed from day to day worries, just think of the thinking one could do. A hundred days on the road like that could make a man a master thinker." answered Bill.
"Or a hundred days later he could be just as nuts as he was on the first one." someone said.
"Only one way to ever know for sure and that’s to just do it." came the final word from Elder."
Will the Old Fool actually do it? Stay tuned to this column for fast breaking news of this latest Alberton saga. dd

education of me and cousin freddie, part 2

2007-11-06T22:26:00.000-07:00

By Dick Darne 11-06-07
The education of me and Freddie, part 2
They were building a new post office and shopping center in town. Amid all the hustle-bustle we slipped in closer, past the "keep-out" signs. We got close enough to actually hear what the workers were saying.
"Hand me that *^&##!~`/< board!"
"You +^&&%*#@~@^^*, I said cut it 2 feet, 5 inches."
"No you didn’t, you &^^*)$@@~>ing idiot!"
Wow! We had never heard the English language used like that. It flowed off their tongues like water tumbling over a rippling waterfall,.there would be no further need for so-called formal education, English, grammar, sentence structure, this was the real thing, the mark of a real education. We settled in, trying to be invisible while we kept our mouths shut and our ears open. We decided to demonstrate our newfound knowledge at dinner that night. The grownups would see that we had become men, our older cousins would begin to give us the respect we surely deserved now and the younger kids would be completely awed.
It was now our turn at the dinner table, at the "home place", we ate in shifts, our place in the hierarchy was after the grownups including our older cousins and before the youngest of the kids. We would be the oldest at the table, and in our minds, the wisest. Aunt Eunice, as usual was in charge. After a bit of whispered discussion about who was to go first, we boldly went where no fools had gone before.
"Pass the *^^%)#?>%%#~* mashed potatoes!"
"How about some >>{+%&&^##~<"**% gravy to go with it?"
Jaws dropped among the adults. The little kids were smart enough to not laugh. I remember looking over at the wood cookstove and seeing a piece of bread slowly turning brown on the top. That’s what we were. Toast. At least toast, life as we had known it was about to cease. Aunt Eunice left the room. We both thought better than to remind her that cutting the switch was carpenter’s work. She returned with two huge chunks of Fels-Naptha soap, which was not known for it’s culinary properties, and a small army of grown-ups. At least she didn’t have a switch.
"You boys think you’re so smart, start chewing! Now!"
Like Cool Hand Luke, we weren’t broken, but we were badly bent.
May you never have to taste Fels-Naptha soap! Ever! dd

the education of me and cousin freddie

2007-10-29T22:09:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #V
By Dick Darne 10-29-07
The education of me and cousin Freddie
It has been said by wiser ones than me that wisdom is linked to knowing when to shut up. The recent cider making brings back old memories of cider making, well over fifty years ago, back in good ole Virginny, not at this time of year, but early in the summer when all the fruit of the trees was "little green apples". We dusted off the old cider press, secured a supply of empty whiskey bottles, ground up the first batch and pressed it, funneling our prized elixir into the empty bottles and hiding it. Under the chicken coop, under the porch, in the barn, burying a few, all the while sniggering at our cleverness. We were on the second batch when we were brought back to reality by the real voice of reality, our Aunt Eunice.
"Just what do you boys think you’re doing?" she asked holding a switch from the nearby hedge in a manner that exuded authority.
"Nothing" we both said at the same time.
"Are you making cider from green apples?" she said, brandishing the switch menacingly, "cause if you drink it you’ll die from the worst bellyache you ever had and don’t come crawling to me for help, I tried to tell you and you just wouldn’t listen. Cough it up. How much have you made? Where’s it hidden?
We could read each other’s minds. We’d give up part of the stash. We did.
"Where’s the rest?"
"That’s all of it."
Whack! These were much different than the whacks from our dads. Those you could, for the most part, duck with a lot of screaming and wailing, convincing everyone you were being murdered. These were deadly accurate, right on the calf of the leg, each whack sending the message "the truth will be told!" between Aunt Eunice’s deadly aim and her built in lie detector, we soon broke. We gave it all up.
I’d like to tell that after that we were good boys from then on, but even though "Cool Hand Luke" had not been invented yet, we knew many years before the last scene, we were not beaten yet. We were already plotting our next adventure.
"Say, Freddie, lets check out that construction site in town, I hear those workers know some real cool words."
"Yeah, and next time let’s remember not to say ‘nothing’"
Stay tuned for the next episode of our education, and don’t try this at home. dd

2007-10-23T13:20:00.001-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol V, # IV
By Dick Darne 10-23-07
Today I will weigh in with both feet. No characters, no fiction, just my own observations (opinion if you will) about the Alberton elections. Simply put, they are:
1)Beware of those who come in and immediately, with no information about the issues, volunteer their services, as though they have brought with them some special wisdom that the rest of us who have lived here for quite a while and have paid our dues lack.
2) Look for and recognize things like actual service to the community. Ones who are willing to "down and dirty" work without recognition, because it "just needs doing"
3)Beware those who would use their office for personal gain. The reality of the council position is that:
a) Lawful actions of a town council are limited to acting on matters duly brought before it at a properly scheduled meeting.
b)At all other times, a council member is an ordinary citizen, with no authority whatsoever.
4) I personally believe, after 27 years here that in order to move forward and put Alberton back to political wellness we need two new council members. They are Josh Acker and Reece Roat.
I have known Josh since he moved here and he impresses me with his work ethic and community mindedness . He also knows how to plow a garden.
I have known Reece (Tuffy to the old timers) since I moved here. He has also paid his dues. He is also good to have around in an emergency, medical or otherwise.
Your vote for these two fine young men is also a vote for Alberton’s future.
Thank you, dd

Alvinville chapter 3

2007-10-16T16:02:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. V, #3
By Dick Darne 10-16-07
Alvinville, Chapter 3
"So, what’s all the ‘dirty tricks’, Bill?" asked Todd.
"Well, besides the visit from the Census Bureau, there has been numerous visits by the state dept. of the environment and adjacent surroundings about Mayor Olaf’s attempts to provide a less expensive way for the citizens to dispose of old cars, tree trimmings, appliances and more often than one would realize, to get a car part to keep the old clunker running." answered Bill.
"How does that become a dirty trick?" asked Johnny.
"These guys at DEAS are complaint driven, so someone complained, but the letters to Mayor Olaf and the visits always coincided with phone calls from the town to DEAS shortly beforehand." said Bill
"That’s hard to believe, that someone could be that stupid and leave a trail so easy to follow" replied Johnny.
"When the sweet aroma of anticipated victory masks one’s unscented disconnect from reality, it can happen very easily" said Elder. " Unlike yesteryear, when destroying one document and bribing, blackmailing or killing a few people sufficed to ‘cover-up’, today with modern communications technology, quite a trail is left behind. It can be as simple as poring over old phone records in the basement, matching to time and places, or as hi-tech as examining the computer hard drive for deleted messages. Usually a lo-tech search will find enough to prove probable cause of a crime, which will trigger a hi-tech search to get the real goods."
"And that’s when the real fun starts." said Todd. "The canaries start to sing. It all gets outed completely and quickly at this level. Takes a little longer at the top, but the truth wins out in the end."
"Dirty tricks aside, the sad thing is that all the stuff at Mayor Olaf’s recycling yard would be scattered all over the countryside, dumped all over, any lightly traveled road that leads out of sight is a potential dump site. Anyone who has been on the back roads knows this first hand. Of course, they are not the complainers either." said Bill.
"Maybe a little self examination is in order for all of us." exclaimed Gno, who had been leaning back with his eyes closed, but was not asleep. "Trash, garbage, obsolete cars and appliances, toxic waste, recyclables, it is our problem, that’s OUR, plural, all of us. Some do good, some do bad, some enable the bad guys, but we’ll drown in our own waste if we don’t do what we must."
"Sounds like a good topic for the near future." said Bill. "Let’s ruminate on this and be vigilant until next week."
Heed Bill’s words and stay tuned for the next thrilling episode. dd

authoritarian conservatives

2007-10-08T12:29:00.000-06:00

THE ALBERTON PAPERS, VOL.5, #2

By dick darne oct. 8 2007

“So we’re in a heck of a pickle now. What motivates these guys anyways? Just how could 59 million people be so stupid?” asked Johnny.
“Most of the 59 million were not stupid but manipulated by trickery and outright lies.” explained Todd. “The bad guys will do anything to have their way and outright lying is OK to them. About 30% of the republican base agree with the means also. They can best be described as ‘authoritarian conservatives’, which means someone very strong has to be in charge. Most are content to follow, some have to be ‘da man’.”
“Sounds like they’re breeding liberty right out of our species.” added Bill.
“That’s where we’re headed for sure if we don’t wake up.” replied Todd. “They have almost ruined the Supreme court by placing four members who don’t give a rat’s butt about our liberties. They have expanded the Executive branch to claim powers not granted in our Constitution, they call it the ‘unitary executive’, it is nothing more than a continuation of Nixon’s attempted power grab.”
“This isn’t the Grand Old Party of yesteryear, that I knew and respected and even voted for them a few times. Where’s Ike or Fighting Bob when we need them?” wondered Bill.
“They’ve changed, for the worst, I’m afraid.” said Elder.
“Where have you been?” someone asked.
“This is not the only think tank, you know.” Elder replied. “I have to keep in touch with them all. Remember, I told you all that I’ve been around a very long time. My job is to make sure the past is not forgotten. A lot of people don’t realize it, but this unitary executive vs. checks and balances goes back a long ways. Think of it as Jefferson vs. Hamilton, in the early days of the republic. Research, read and study accordingly. Also, keep in mind that if the history of the world was a line from Alberton to Superior, then the history of our republic would be no more than a dot, right at the terminus. For a more up to date analysis, read ‘Broken Government’ by John Dean. In any case, study, learn, discuss, think and act.”
Do as Elder says. Stay tuned. dd

alvinville, chapter two

2007-09-18T21:41:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. V, #II
By Dick Darne 9-18-07
Alvinville chapter 2
"Looks like good news and bad news from Alvinville, boys,"exclaimed Bill. "We’ll put aside the old news for now and think about this today."
"O.K., what’s the bad news?" asked Johnny.
"Bad news is they have been hit with an unfunded mandate. Even after spending 1.2 million dollars seven years ago, jumping through all the hoops, etc., building a new sewer treatment plant according to all the state and federal rules, they now must spend mucho bucks to disenfect the treated effluent before it goes to the river." explained Bill.
"Aren’t there lots of other needs in Alvinville that, if they did have the money, are more urgent?" asked Johnny.
" Oh yes, lots of things." answered Bill. "They can join a list of just about every small town in Montana, big towns too. For that matter, most states in the USA."
Todd jumped in. "There’s no money because the country has been and is being looted. About a Billion dollars every ten days or so spent in Iraq, most of it going to private contractors."
"Crony capitalism’s finest hour!" exclaimed Gno, who was never one to mince words. "Connect the dots and you’ll see the tentacles reaching into the highest levels of the executive branch. They are breaking the system on purpose, then more crony capitalism to fix it."
"So, what’s the good news?" someone asked.
"Alvinville has had enough. Instead of just rolling over, they have decided to wait and see. It appears as though every town in the state has had enough. Maybe in the country. The Organization Of Towns Of The State is going to protest to the EPA." said Bill.
"It all hinges on the solidarity. Or ‘solidarnosk’ as they would say in Poland. People’s struggles need solidarity as a few readings in labor history would affirm." said Todd. "Remember, it was not crony capitalism that defeated the ‘evil empire’, but solidarity."
Until next time, SOLIDARNOSK! dd

The Liberty Tree vol5 #1

2007-09-11T22:25:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol V, # I
By Dick Darne 9-11-07
The Liberty Tree
"Where’s Dick today?" one of the thinkers asked.
"He’s working on his new best seller, ‘Albertville’." someone replied.
A booming voice from the rear said, "Viggie had to go back for now, but we’ll keep it going. Anything to add anyone?"
" I do. It was Nemi. "None of the perps of the present day mess has had to pay up yet. No one was fired, some were promoted, some received medals and most got richer. Especially old number two. He came close once, but had ‘scooter’ take the fall with his silence signed, sealed and delivered with a presidential pardon. I doubt he’ll ever be applying for food stamps."
"But can’t you do something yourself, I mean isn’t that your job to see that the bad guys get what’s coming to them?" someone asked.
" No, that’s not to say they won’t do themselves in eventually, which is too late to recover their ill gotten gains, but rather it is your job as citizens to do it. Your founding fathers anticipated most of this and provided remedies such as impeachment. Of course it all depends on a functioning legislative and judicial branches and to some extent on a functioning ‘fourth branch’. They are all either broken or badly bent and a lot of it falls squarely on the shoulders of the citizenry. Almost everybody agrees that we have a real mess, high crimes and misdemeanors, wholesale looting of the treasury, erosion of our precious liberties, private armies running amok and the evermore concentration of power in a very few dangerous men. But who voted them in to begin with? A lot of stupid decisions on the part of the citizenry. I can only try to raise awareness. You must do the job." said Nemi.
"What if we can’t get the votes to impeach?" someone asked.
"Remember the words of one of your founding fathers: ‘The tree of liberty must
be refreshed with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is it’s natural manure.’ answered the Lady. "and don’t forget the oldest of the founders who said: ‘any society who would give up a little liberty to gain a little security, will deserve neither and lose both.’ look at what we have given up already just to be less safe."
"What in the world has ‘Albertville’ got to do with this, has Dick gone off his rocker?" One of the regulars asked
"Not really, he’s got a theory that Liberty, Truth and Justice begins at home. If people can’t take care of things at the local level, then things will get worse at the national level" answered the Lady. Pay attention. Ask questions. Think! dd

Alvinville, chapter one

2007-09-04T18:00:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV #XX
By Dick Darne 9-05-07
"Professor Berkowitz kinda piqued my interest in Alvinville and since I had a little free time, I checked it out a little further. A fine example, indeed, of the populace sleeping while the inmates run the asylum. It should never happen to anyone and I wonder if it could happen here." said Bill, the retired logger as everyone settled in for some serious thinking.
"How do you go about checking out these things? Asked Johnny.
"Most of it is public record." replied Bill, "The rest is general knowledge in bits and pieces obscured by drowsiness. There’s usually one or two people who are trying to get the truth out, but it’s a tough slog sometimes."
"You mean to say that if people don’t think a particular issue affects their pocketbook directly, they tend to not think about it much, if at all?" asked Todd.
"Exactly!"replied Bill. "Take the magnificent fifty thousand dollar Wildcat machine, most people thought it was covered by a grant. Not so, unless you consider the State’s benevolence in loaning them the money at interest a grant. That twice a year payment is the biggest part of the ‘cost of ownership’ that Sven was talking about"
"Not to mention some hidden costs associated with alienating most of Alvinville’s contractors." added Johnny.
"There’s lots more," replied Bill. " while everyone in Alvinville snoozed, they managed to empty the funds in the treasury that could be used for amenities. First quite a few thousand dollars went to a not-so-reliable contractor, who was paid before completion, and left. It sits today, in beautiful downtown Alvinville as a monument to mismanagement. But, a bigger monument yet sits there, a pile of deteriorating material for this huge gazebo that was to stand for all time, lovingly built with an outpouring of widespread community support that must exist only in the delusions of grandeur swimming through the minds of the dunderheads."
"But, isn’t there something that can be done?" asked Todd.
"Probably so," replied Bill, "seems as there was federal money involved, misuse of that is serious business. Since the feds have been lax on prosecuting the big crooks, they’ll probably jump on this one with a vengeance."
"Haven’t they had any elections?" asked Johnny
"Sure did, the new mayor, Harold Olaf, kicked the old mayor’s butt by a two to one margin, but the council still had two holdovers, one of which was appointed by the old regime and refused to stand for election. Needless to say, not much could be done to fix things. Then came the dirty tricks."answered Bill.
"Dirty tricks? I thought that only happened at a much higher level. What kind of dirty tricks? Asked Todd.
"Well, for one, right after the election, the U.S. Census officer shows up in Alvinville, ostensibly to see if Mayor Olaf actually resided in the town limits. When have you ever even heard of the Census man ever showing up between censuses? There’s lots more, lets break and pick up the trails next week. You guys keep thinking!" said Bill
Do as Bill says. dd

eternal vigilance is the price of liberty

2007-08-28T23:37:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #XIX
By Dick Darne 8-28-07
This day in the Think-Tank was going to be different. Everyone was setting up chairs and waiting. The Big boys were calling a meeting. Elder seemed to be in charge of organizing things. At the opposite end of the room was: the Lady, Nemi, Mother Nature, Padre and Viggie, Padre’s cousin. They all had been pretty busy, especially Viggie, what with all the assaults on our liberties lately. Viggie had come to report on the damage.
"I guess you all are wondering why I called this meeting." Viggie said unceremoniously . "I am the guy who sits in front of our National Archives, with the inscription: ‘ETERNAL VIGILANCE IS THE PRICE OF LIBERTY’. While I have been proud to keep watch since the beginnings of our grand experiment in government of the people, by the people and for the people, what it really means is it is up to each and every one of our citizens to stand the vigil. We have been a little lax and allowed great damage to be done to our constitution. It seems as though very few of us have any sense of history or how government should work. Even among the framers, and a fine collection of the brightest and best they were, there were those who believed that only a few special people should rule. They have taken many forms, among them the rich, of which most of their fortunes were acquired by nefarious methods (and then we name bridges, hospitals, towns and schools after them) and inherited wealth, which then gives the recipients the means for mischief. Some have a world-view way out of touch with reality, the benevolent ‘Massa’ in the mansion on the hill, watching as all the happy workers whistle their way to work, swinging their lunch buckets and gushing gratitude at even having a job at all. These are the people who fund phony think-tanks, pouring mega-bucks into shaping public opinion. Then we have the Neo-Cons, disciples of Strauss, also known as ‘the crazies’ who truly believe that only they and others of their ilk can possibly understand and lying to the people is absolutely necessary. The first group have gained control of most of the media even to the conversion of one conglomerate into nothing but a propaganda outlet. They have constantly hammered on themes like how great the ‘Great Communicator’ was or ‘Government is bad’ which, upon coming into power they set out to prove it. ‘Family values’ is another one, except it seems the ones pouring the family values syrup all over themselves have succumbed to their basest instincts, or to be more blunt, they are sex offending hypocrites. Free markets is another one. What it really means is free markets, with all it’s accompanying, loss of jobs, lower wages no benefits, destroyed communities, urban decay and shattered lives for you and me, but subsidies, corporate welfare and full protection of the state for them. And offshore tax breaks as a bonus. We’ll take a break now and pick this up later. Thanks, thinkers."
Stop listening to fake news. Stop supporting the bad guys. dd

2007-08-21T23:42:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #XVIII
By Dick Darne 8-21-07
The Tune-up Ride
After several days riding across the country and a week of lounging around visiting old friends, I decided I had better get in the saddle and ride. I discovered that an old railroad I knew as a child had become a "rails to trails" bicycle route. It had some significance to me, I used to try and "hop it", not even knowing where it went, which didn’t matter, it always ran one mile per hour faster than I could run. My buddy, Rodney and I devised a plan; we found a path down one of the cuts, where gravity would allow us that extra MPH. We didn’t really appreciate the gravity of the situation anyway, we had no idea where it went, or that the hopper cars having something to grab, had no place to sit. We tried anyway, Rodney made it and extending his hand just like the last scene in the movie, "The Defiant Ones", I ran like the wind trying to grasp his outstretched hand, but my "wind" was more like a gentle zephyr. After aborting that attempt, we set to work devising plan B. This probably helped shape my future as a world renowned thinker. At least county wide. OK, west end of county renowned thinker.
Plan B was a masterpiece of our combined ruminating. We got his old boy scout pack, our trusty pocket knives and our jointly owned "Cutter Compact Snake-Bite Kit" (another story). Of course we never thought about jackets or sleeping bags or anything like that, just high adventure. After appropriating my grandmother’s good can opener, we set off for the railroad yard, and finding an empty boxcar with a big empty cardboard box in it, we climbed in. We put the box in the corner, got in it, cut a couple peepholes and snickered. This was much easier than trying to run one down. For what seemed like hours, we went all over the yard, while we snickered as only those who know they have beaten the system can snicker. Finally, we stopped at a loading dock, the door rolled open and an adult voice boomed: "OK boys, end of the line, be on your way now!" the gentle zephyr was now let out of our sails.
Now, over fifty years later, I would ride my bicycle the entire fifty miles of the old track bed, seeing what I didn’t see back then. I parked in the middle and the first day rode to the end in Purcellville (pronounced Percyville) and back. There was one departure from the roadbed onto the highway to traverse Clark’s Gap, el. 535 ft.(passes are called gaps in that part of the country). The 535 ft. was all at once, straight up and over. Good workout!
The second day I rode the other half to D.C. and back,. with the help of a large sno-cone. I never found the scene of the attempted "hop", but parts have been wiped out by I-66. I don’t know what ever happened to Rodney. I hope he caught his train. My grandmother never knew exactly what we were up to that day, or why I had her can opener. If she knew, she’d roll over in her grave.
Wax nostalgic occasionally, it’s good for the soul. dd

2007-08-14T23:15:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #XVII
By Dick Darne 8-14-07
"Well Dick, I guess you learned some lessons that night, and even though it took a few years to sink in, you never forgot them." Asked Bill.
Before I could reply, Johnny said: "Yeah, it is true about getting too soon old and too late smart. Some people never learn."
"While you were gone, we had a few discussions about the true cost of things." Said Todd.
"Like the cost of my car and the hospital bill?" I asked.
"Not exactly, it’s more about things we take for granted that we don’t realize the true cost of." replied Todd. "One of the simplest would be a board."
"A board? Asked Johnny.
"Yes, a simple board. One could figure the cost of the raw log plus the milling, transportation, warehousing, retailing, all the accompanying expenses and profit and come up with a price. But sometimes there are hidden costs that the ultimate user never pays. Or any of the middlemen, but good old J..Q. Public usually winds up footing the bill."
"How’s that?"
"Sometimes up front, as in taxpayer funded access roads, or afterwards in cleaning up the mess. Some of the real big boys probably were never made to clean up after themselves when they were children. Makes it bad for everybody." Said the old logger, Bill. "It sure seems that given the relatively small population here, we should be able to harvest all we need to sustain the local economy."
Elder spoke up from the back. "Over the years, a lot of boondoggles were due to not realizing the true cost of things. Mine tailings, asbestos, DDT, air pollution to name a few. Those to blame got theirs and are gone, the public foots the bill."
The phone rang. Someone answered it, it was Sven Berkowitz, Professor Emeritus, from the North Dakota Institute of Financial Technology, calling to tell us about his new book about this very subject. One of the guys was bringing him up to date on our discussions. He put him on speaker phone.
"Say, I’m sure glad to hear the think tank is working so well. I’d like to share one of the case studies in my new book, ‘The True Cost of Stuff and Why Some Dummies Never Seem To Get It.’ It takes place in a little town in Montana called Alvinville.. They took out a fifty thousand dollar loan to buy this wonderful Wildcat Do It All machine, figuring it would save so much money it would pay for itself in nothing flat. At the time of this writing, adding the amount paid so far to the depreciation (generously allowing twenty years) and eighteen percent for maintenance, then dividing by the number of hours used comes out to one hundred and forty two dollars per hour. That’s just the cost of owning it. Ah wunnerful, wunnerful. That’s about twice the cost of hiring a contractor. Wunnerful, wunnerful. Gotta go now, boys, lots more research to do. Keep on thinking and figuring the true cost of stuff. Root out the financial dunderheads"

Black Ice

2007-08-07T00:57:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, V4, # 16
By Dick Darne 8-6-07
While searching around my old hometown, I came upon a place where I learned one of life’s great lessons. Of course at the time I did not realize it, that took place many years later. There is an old saying: "We get too soon old and too late smart". I was thinking of this as I stood on the banks of Pimmit Run (back in Virginia, all small creeks are known as "runs") and Old Dominion Drive, just to the east of McLean. I was waiting for Mr. Steve Dryden, from the Fairfax Trails and Streams, to go over some of the history of this stream that meandered through the old family home and served as one of my playgrounds when I was a young feller. As I waited, my thoughts wandered back almost fifty years ago, to January of 1958, when, having turned 18, I was now endowed with all the necessary knowledge, wisdom and common sense needed to embark upon life’s journey. In other words, I knew it all. Certainly more than the Old Man, who was rapidly approaching "fuddyduddydom". After all, I drove a cool car, while his was merely functional. Mine was a 1940 Ford Deluxe Coupe, his was a ‘38 Pontiac 4 door sedan with the back full of tools. Mine was beautiful, a "cherry" as described in those days, not a dent, the envy of all the guys, object of many a dream of customizing it into the ultimate street rod.
"Where the heck do you think you’re going on a night like this?" he asked me as I was opening the front door to leave.
"Out." I replied.
"It’s raining now, but it’s going to get nasty later on. There’s no good reason to go out tonight." the Old Man said.
"It’s just rain, it’s warm out and I’m always careful." I said, but was thinking. "What’s he know anyway."
I was to find out later that night.
I was heading home on Old Dominion drive, it had cooled off considerably and the rain kept coming down. The road was an old railroad grade and was pretty flat, alternating between cuts and embankments, as I approached the bridge, the roadbed was about fifteen feet above the creek bottom. Suddenly, everything got very quiet, then things viewed through the windshield were moving sideways. Absolutely no control. In a matter of seconds my beautiful coupe and I were sailing over the embankment. Then I saw stars, lots of stars. The car landed nose first, coming to rest on it’s top. I crawled out through the trunk, saw more stars when I hit the ground. My right leg was numb and useless, my head hurt, I could feel blood flowing, it was dark, I was rapidly becoming soaked and scared to death. I could see a flashlight bobbing, someone had seen the wreck, and was coming. As he passed the light over me to see how bad I was hurt, I could see the panic in his eyes, this scared me even more.
"Hang on, buddy, I’m going to get the rescue squad." he said as he left me in the dark.
"Dickie Darne, what the heck are you doing down here?" was the next voice I heard from Jack Akre, one of the McLean fireman.
In a matter of minutes I was on my way to the hospital. A few stitches above the eye, some to fix the big gash in my knee and, ugh, a foot long needle to drain the other knee. As soon as they were done, there was the Old Man waiting to take me home. And remind me that he had tried to tell me, but I just wouldn’t listen,.over and over and over. The wounds were painful but not as painful as knowing that the Old Man was right, and I was wrong. The car was totaled. Young fellows listen, your Old Man knows more than you do. Keep listening, dd

the bus ride

2007-07-31T23:37:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #XV
By Dick Darne 7-31-07
Well guys, if you all got your cups full, I’ll tell you about the bus ride. We had a minor logistical problem at the beginning of the big bike ride. I had to deliver four bicycles and all the gear to the hostel in downtown Washington D.C., where there is no parking. Plan A was to have someone from the suburbs ride in with me, drop me and the gear off, take the Volvo home and pick us up at the trip’s end. Plan B was the same with a different person. Wouldn’t you know it, A and B fell through. My superior thinking talents, developed at the think tank, took over and in a flash, I formulated plan C. Dump everything downtown, drive to the suburbs, leave the car at someone’s house and ride the bus and subway back downtown. The most logical choice was my old landlady from fifty years ago, Joan Parker. When I got there, she wasn’t home. My trained mind quickly came up (with a little help from Red Green) with plan C.5, duct tape the key and a note to her front door, and run fast to the bus stop. Murphy’s law then took over and the bus got to the stop just ahead of me, causing me to miss it by seconds. It appeared that the busses ran about every 20 minutes, so I trotted to the stop across from the supermarket, to get a bottle of water and a snack. It was in the nineties with humidity about ninety percent, so I needed the water. Before I could get back to the bus stop, here came the bus. A very nice young fellow literally ran the bus down and stopped it for me. He did not speak English, but that has never been a requirement to be a good person. There were lots of people on the bus, but I found a seat and settled in for the ride from one of the most affluent places on earth to the Metro station. As I relaxed and looked around I noticed that everyone was speaking a foreign tongue. I also noticed that everyone looked very tired. It was quite evident that these people didn’t live here, but they worked here. These are the people who do the work that makes McLean Virginia tick, but they sure couldn’t afford to live here. I was born and raised in this place, but, having left, I could never afford to return. But, back to the ride. Someone had told me once, that if you heard someone with a foreign accent, they were someone who spoke one more language than you did. I closed my eyes and listened to what began as a cacophony of noise turn into a harmony of song. I had no idea of what they said exactly, but I am sure if it were a language I understood, it would be things people everywhere talk about. When they are tired, when they are on their way home, their hopes and dreams. All but the one idiot on the cell phone. It wasn’t English, but I’ll bet I can translate: HELLO! I’M JUST SITTING HERE YAKKING ON MY CELL PHONE WITH NO REGARD FOR ANYONE ELSE! English is not a requirement to be a jerk either. When we got to the Metro station, I got off and most of the bus passengers kept going. The subway got me to downtown in a flash, plan C.5 worked, we had dinner, and most of us took a walking tour of D.C. After a good night’s sleep, we would embark on the 335 mile bike ride the next morning. Would we have sunshine or rain? Stay savvy. dd

McMansions

2007-07-24T22:55:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol IV, #14
By Dick Darne 7-24-07
McMansions
"So, Dick, what the heck is a McMansion" someone in the think tank asked.
"Well, I’m not sure of the whys but the equivalent here would be the ‘McRanchhouse’. They are huge, usually brick with lots of windows. Something like ‘ol massa’ used to live in." I replied.
"Must take a lot of cordwood to heat one of them." said Bill Woods.
"I doubt any of the owners ever cut and stacked any firewood, at least not in those quantities." said Johnny Sixgun.
"They probably hire Mexicans to do any meaningful work." added Todd Young
" I heard grumbling about the Mexicans wanting fifteen bucks an hour and from what I saw, they worked very hard doing what the McMansionites were either unable or unwilling to do" I said.
"You say there were thousands and thousands of these things all around D.C. Just what do all these people do, or put another way, how can that many people be worth enough compensation to afford that lifestyle?" asked Gno Lackawitz
"Maybe they all need to show the world that they are somebody." said Johnny.
"I’ve always wondered just how everybody can be this ‘somebody’. Said Bill
"Yeah, I remember my old man always telling me, ‘stay in school, go to college, be somebody’." mused Johnny.
"And if everyone did that and became ‘somebody’, then everybody would be a ‘nobody’." said Bill. "Kinda like ‘keep up with the Joneses’."
"Or conspicuous consumption" related Todd.
A booming voice from the back sounded, "A spade is a spade. They are using far more than their share. In polite company, you mortals would tend to be, well, polite. I don’t have to be. Sounds to me like they are suffering from a couple of mankind’s ancient afflictions, Greed and Selfishness. The fact that so many can do this means that more than a few of them have larceny in their hearts."
Padre never was one to mince words.
"Dick, tell them about your bus ride from McMansionville to D.C." added Padre.
Folks, we’re out of space for this week, so stay tuned for the bus ride next week and my erudition of social justice. dd

orval

2007-07-15T22:35:00.001-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #XIII By Dick Darne 7-15-07
"I’ve been everywhere, man, I’ve been everywhere" Johnny Cash
We have just had another milestone in life’s highway right here in Alberton. Orval Silbaugh, one of Alberton’s best students of life and it’s workings, a proper thinker of the first degree, in possession of more than a lifetime of experience and knowledge passed away this month. He was always a welcome addition to the high level discussions at the Sidetrack, always able to add to any dialogue and offer useful advice on many subjects. He had been to many places in this old world, not traveling in the manner and style of "The Jet-setters", but in a way that enabled him to glean down to earth knowledge about the rest of the world. We would always enjoy his sharing of his experiences. He offered one piece of advice that I highly recommend to young folks about to make their way in the world: Know how to do more than one thing, and always know how to do essential jobs that no one else either knows how to or doesn’t want to do.
At well over twenty years senior to most of the "guys" here, he was our "old-timer", and will live on in spirit as our old wise man. Most of us can only dream of the things Orval has seen and done. He’ll be missed by all of Alberton. dd

2007-07-10T23:10:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. IV, # XII
By Dick Darne 7-10-07
More on the journey east.
After dropping off the hitchiker Brad, I turned off the Interstate onto old US-212. It not only is shorter, it is a great ride. When I arrived in Broadus, I decided to stop and take a rest for the long haul across South Dakota tomorrow. After securing a room, I walked up to the local café. Now, wherever you may be. Nothing beats the local café. In most instances, one would only have to change a few names and they would all be mostly the same. This one was named the "Cashaway Café. A posting on the wall caught my eye; this was home to one of the 35 best pies in Montana. A Sister Café, the Sidetrack, in Alberton, shares that same distinction. I was able to become much more pious after dinner. If I were Duncan Hines, I would recommend it highly. Being somewhat of an expert on fine dining myself, you can believe me when I say go visit the fine folks yourself. Have a piece of pie. After a fine breakfast early the next morning, served by master chef and morning cook, Bucky, I was back on the road.
On the road again, out of Montana, thru a little bit of Wyoming, into South Dakota and back on I-90 and the first thing I noticed was REAL REST AREAS. Clean. Staffed. Eager to serve visitors to their State. far, far better than even the "token rest areas" at the far corners of Montana. This trend of clean, staffed and properly spaced rest areas would continue all the way across S. Dakota, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania. West Virginia and Maryland. I stopped at most of them and slept at quite a few. Well patrolled, just park over with the big rigs and have a snooze. Sit at a table under one of the small pavillions and enjoy a fresh made PB&J, which go down all right until you run low on jelly. Then it’s a slow, painful descent of the peanut butter down the gullet.
On the second day, I arrived in Fedora, S. Dakota, to visit Alberton’s First Brother, Don Hanson, who graciously took me on a tour of Fedora, Roswell and a couple of other towns. Don is a master collector and connoisseur of collectables and a former resident of Alberton. We then played a little billiards, picked a couple tunes and shot a little bull. The skies were clear, so we got to see the evening star right next to a crescent moon. The rest was good, and the march would become a little more forced now. This is about mile one thousand from Alberton.
Stay tuned, dd

BUBBY

2007-07-03T23:10:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #XI
By Dick Darne 7-3-07
"Bubby"
This is one of my adventures on the journey. It is one of several. They are not in order, but told as they come to me.
While visiting some old friends,(a story about them later), and talking about who’s left from our youth, Bubby came up. I knew him since we were little kids, he was the toughest kid for many miles around, and a fine athlete to boot. In high school he became our de-facto "champion" and other schools would send the best they had to test him. Now, before you readers think I’m advocating school "rumbles", let me explain.
As others of my age may remember, there was a certain "code of ethics" to a fight in those days. If memory serves me, the party of the first issued the challenge. The party of the second then picked one of two methods, box or wrestle, to settle the matter. Both were honor bound to follow the rules. In boxing, it was fists only, in some representation of Marquis of Queensbury. No kicking, no holding, no striking while down. In wrestling, there was no punching, and of course, no kicking. If you had picked boxing, you could get a fat lip, in wrestling a little sore.
Real sore in some cases, I earned a broken arm once from misjudgement on my part. It was unheard of for a knife or gun to be involved. Two against one was a no-no. If you got your butt thumped, it was usually fair and square. Whining was also frowned upon. I never knew of any lasting damage.
I went to visit Bubby. He was signed by the major leagues as a pitcher. When he asked me where I had been living, he exclaimed:
"Montana! I pitched a game there in Missoula once when I played for Twin Falls. It was twenty one degrees! I like to froze in that kind of cold.
"I got to see you pitch once when you were with the Yankees." I told him, "It was only one pitch, to Frank Howard and he hit it over the fence,.then you were replaced. I did get to see you a couple of times on TV."
I had a pretty good visit with a guy I had known from kids thru high school, and then seen only a couple of times over almost 50 years. I’m also glad to have known one major leaguer in my life. He went on to tell me about another old friend right next door. I walked over and had another nice visit. Lee is his name. His dad was one of my uncle’s best friends. When I was about 14 years old, he saw me struggling while paddling a boat. He showed me how to paddle all on one side and how to quietly scull a boat. Never forgot the lesson. Had a nice visit with Lee. All this is a fine example of serendipity. I found some things I wasn’t looking for. For more on Bubby, google Fred Talbot.

eternal vigilance

2007-07-03T21:54:00.000-06:00

"Well, I see old Dick is back", said one of the assembled thinkers.
"Yeah, it looks like he, the trailer and the Swedish Suburban all made it back in one piece", said someone else.
"I’ll bet he has a few observations about life in the heartland and in the parallel universe around D.C., maybe a little grist for the old think mill"
A booming voice from the back exclaimed: "before he gets here, let me tell you about Dick and my cousin, Viggie. Dick knew him over fifty years ago. Viggie made quite an impression on him at an early age, but they got out of touch over the years. Like me, Viggie is one of the sentinels of democracy. He resides just down the avenue from me. A short while ago, Dick tried to find him, but was looking in the wrong place. While Dick was in D.C., a couple weeks ago, and down on Constitution Avenue, Viggie sent him a ‘mental telegram’ and drew him right over. For many years Vig has been seated in front of our National Archives, over one of the most profound inscriptions of all...."
The Lady stepped up, and before Padre could finish, said: "ETERNAL VIGILANCE IS THE PRICE OF LIBERTY".
"That is true", replied Padre. "From the beginnings of history, there have been those who produce nothing, but would enslave others to provide it for them. They come disguised in many ways, not the least of which is the corrupt leaders with silver tongues, sometimes in the form of a shining knight on a white steed, or worse yet, an actor playing the part of a great leader. Those who allow their minds to become lazy and allow others to do their thinking for them, who pursue ever greater levels of entertainment, like the circus of the roman days are fair game. The oppressed become the oppressors, power corrupts and all the ‘somebody-wannabees’ flock to become lackeys of the powerful"
"I’ve just been reading about all the vast sums being raised by all the Presidential candidates and I can’t help but think that after sucessfully raising that kind of money, they have already sold their minds to the corporations". Said Todd.
"And their souls to the devil"added Johnny.
"Something else I’ve always wondered about is how in the heck can everybody be somebody" mused Bill.
"Dick is still busy cutting his knapweed crop, but he told me of some of his observations, like McMansions, all menial but essential jobs held by non-english speakers, some rather pleasant experiences with these same people, old friends, some long lost but found in a serendipitous moment, places lost forever and the condition of the rest areas all across America. All this and more", said Elder, "If everyone will please stay tuned"
"And cousin Viggie is coming to visit as soon as the current crisis with the forces of evil has abated", said Padre. "Keep thinking!"

the hitchiker

2007-07-03T21:51:00.000-06:00

My momma and a whole lot of other people told me never to pick up hitchhikers. This was an exception.I had stopped in Butte the first morning. When I pulled out of the truck stop and onto the ramp, there he stood. He looked like a mighty man at one time but today he looked tired, cold, hungry, and weak. He looked like he had been hit by a truck. His name was Brad and he had been hit by a truck. A semi, head on, about a year ago."I’ve been in a rehab home for months, after six operations in a Seattle hospital. Lost all my teeth and one eye," he explained."Where you headed?" I asked."To Billings, where my lawyer is to have a settlement check. Then buy a pickup and go back to Red Cloud and fish for walleye."He went on to explain how the truck stop had put him out, to spend the night in the cold Butte air. I asked if he was hungry. He was. We stopped and had an early lunch. He went on to tell me how his younger brother died from meth, his time cooking in fire camps, and gold mining. He didn’t seem to be bitter about anything. He just wanted to be back fishing for walleye.I left him at an overpass in Billings with $20 and my old space blanket.He helped me many times more than I ever helped him. I hope he has a happy ending to his journey. Mine is just beginning

Journey's Beginning

2007-05-14T23:37:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, # VIII
By Dick Darne May 14, 2007
To all my loyal readers:
First, I am sorry for not having an article last week. I have been extremely busy getting ready for my trip and I just "spaced it".
Second, the trip is more than just a bike ride. If the old saying, "getting there is half the fun" is true, then I guess I’ll be having lots of fun. I’ll be pulling out Wednesday, driving my 1988 Volvo, pulling a "custom-built" bicycle trailer, carrying 4 bikes and all the camping gear. The others still have day jobs, so they are flying. I’ll be by myself (none of the old "are we there yet"), camping along the way. I don’t even have a definite route to follow. I have plenty of time to see whatever is out there. When I get there, I’ll visit whatever kin and friends are left and see how much things have changed in 28 years. They say you can’t go home again, but it’s worth a try. I am leaving politics behind, and focus on whatever is good.
I’ll leave the think tank to run itself. I’ll send dispatches when I can. I hope to encounter some serious thinkers on this journey.
I’ll see you all in a month or more and at least 5000 car miles and 400 bike miles.
Thank you for your support over the last year,
Dick Darne

2007-05-03T00:18:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #VII
By Dick Darne 4-30-07
"Well, lets think about some lighter subjects for a while. Kinda give our brains a rest," said Elder.
"Yeah, like all those handy housekeeping and energy saving methods invented by ‘Old Dick’ after his month long ‘ batching’ ordeal," chuckled Johnny.
"You mean like his energy saving dishwashing method?" asked Bill.
"How’s that?" said Elder.
"Well, he figured that if he had the dog lick the plates clean it would save on soap and hot water," replied Bill.
"Not to mention the reduced load on the sewer system," added Todd.
"And the undying loyalty of the dog," said Johnny.
"He also saved a lot of unnecessary work by embracing the ‘two-pile’ laundry method,"said Bill. "He also figured that whites and colors can be safely washed together with no harm to the washing machine. He also discovered an inordinate amount of time is spent sorting , folding and putting away clothes that are just going to be taken out of the drawer, worn, laundered, sorted, folded and put away."
" That’s great that he was able to break that vicious cycle," observed Johnny. He should be some kind of ‘efficiency expert’, or something. At least get some kind of award."
" I heard he also proved, without a shadow of doubt, that houseplants do not have to be watered regularly," said Todd. "And it is possible to get the house cleaned up ‘just-in-time’ for the wife to arrive."
"We can credit Dick for the ‘don’t-make-the-bed-it’ll-only get messed-up-again’ theory," added Bill.
"It’s a good thing his wife didn’t get home a couple days early, or he’d be referred to in the past tense," laughed Elder. "I also heard he was going to have a big party and invite all his friends."
"Neither one showed up,"someone said, followed by laughter. Even the somber Padre, The Lady and Mother Nature were sniggering.
"It’s not nice to try and fool Mother Nature," she said. "But enough of this foolishment, there’s serious things to resolve. Stay versed." dd

absurd logic

2007-04-24T23:01:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #VI
By Dick Darne 4-24-07
"Well, did old ‘Crazy Dick’ survive his bike run last weekend?"asked Bill.
"He survived, but he got blown away. If it were a race, he would have finished last. Come to think of it he was definitely in last place," answered Johnny. He limped into Alberton about an hour behind the main pack. He had an ace in the hole though, he took a ‘nap-break’, woke up later, noticed a few drops of rain and called the second half due to rain."
"Yeah, when I saw him, he was mumbling something about ‘need a faster bike’ added Todd. "Should we get up a betting pool on what day he collapses?"
"Maybe a better one would be on how far he gets in that raggedy old ‘swedish surburban’ Volvo," said Johnny.
" ‘bout time to start thinking about more serious things," said Elder.
"Oh yes, have you all noticed, now that things are unraveling, some of the absurd logic coming from the ‘koolaid-heads’?" asked Todd.
"Sure have," said Bill. "After the latest massacre, the whackoes were quick to point out that guns don’t kill people, people kill people and we already have laws on the books to prevent things like this, we don’t need no more stinkin laws and you’ll pry my gun out of my cold dead hand"
"Those laws really worked this time," added Elder.
"You know, I’ve really thought about it and there are lots of people who have no business with a moderately sharp stick, much less a gun," said Johnny. "They give us responsible owners a bad name."
" Or look at health care, an idea whose time is here. They will point out the scandal at Walter Reed as an example of how government run healthcare does not work," added Bill.
"Or how they railed against ‘big-bad government and then elected idiots who made it bigger," said Todd.
"And made it worse than bad" added Elder. "If history is any guide, they will have sent themselves back to the wilderness for another 50 years."
"Repeal any law that interferes with the pursuit of profit, plunder and ill gotten gains, cut taxes for the rich, dismantle our industrial capacity, move it overseas, cut more taxes, bomb and invade anyone who doesn’t agree to cough up their resources,"said Johnny.
"And when confronted with the moral failings of their leaders, they quickly turn to the ‘blame Clinton’ mode," said Todd. "Old slick Willie sold us out with his Rethuglican-lite policies, like NAFTA, why the focus on his peccadilloes?"
"The usual ranting and raving of the right-wing noise machine," explained Elder. "They figure the best defense is offense, so on and on it goes. Once again, if history is a guide, they will self destruct. Eventually most people will see the truth."
A booming voice from the back said: "One of the wisest mortals I ever knew said something to that effect; "you can fool some of the people all the time..........."
Before he finished, everyone knew who and what he was talking about.
The lady was with him and added: "Keep brooding and stay cognizant"

honorable toil

2007-04-18T00:15:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #V
By Dick Darne 4-17-07
"I hear a lot of talk about a "living wage" these days," mused Johnny. "Just how would a "living wage" be defined."
"Well," replied Bill, "I busted my butt for too many years. Made good money, but figuring how hard it was, it should have been a lot more."
"Yes, but ever notice how many folks worked just as hard, if not harder at a lousy job for a whole lot less?" said Elder.
"I still remember the oath I took when I was sworn in at our Local Union. Part of it still stands out. ‘Extend a helping hand to all branches of honorable toil,’ said Todd. "Sometimes I’m almost ashamed of myself and my brothers. We secure the best wages and benefits for ourselves and never think about those who toil for a fraction of what we get."
"Let’s first think of the problem as not too much for us, but not enough for them," said Elder. "And let’s think about honorable toil. Toil as we know it is mostly stuff done that can’t be or won’t be done by the one needing it. Highly skilled workers command a good wage because just anybody is not able to do it."
"Lets not forget the time and effort in learning these skills," added Todd.
"That’s why doctors get more and specialists get even more," said Johnny.
"Now lets think about the toil of the ones that do jobs that no one will do,"
Said Elder. "These are the toils that keep the world running. The toils that enable the ones who do the toils that no one can do to command the better wages."
"I have noticed that if all the so called ‘non professional’ toilers at just about any school were to all cease their toil, all other operations would grind to a halt," said Bill.
"And if all the lowly bed pan toilers were to cease, would the doctors step up and empty them?" said Johnny.
"Heck no," replied Todd, "they’d just buck it down to the nurses"
"Which brings us to more questions,"said Elder. "All this is obviously honorable toil, but how about alleged professionals who will run a good company right into the ground, milk it like a cow, destroy lots of jobs with all the accompanying human misery and walk off with tens or even hundreds of millions of dollars in compensation?"
"I think that would be best described as ‘dishonorable toil’," answered Bill.
"Or ‘Captains of Industry’ according to the Wall Street Journal," added Todd. "By the way, where’s old Dick been lately."
"Off riding his bike, training for the big one. He’s been doing over thirty miles several times a week, but I heard he limped into Superior from Alberton, staggered into Rosies Café for nourishment and had to call in the ‘sag-wagon’ to come and get him," answered Johnny.
"Yeah, I saw his itinerary, first two days are fifty nine miles each and the next two are forty eight each. Starts tapering off after that. I heard the old fool is going to ride Missoula to Alberton and back next Saturday," added Bill.
"Since Dick’s off on his bike, I guess we’ll all have to remind everyone to keep cogitating and stay tuned," said Elder. "We’ll keep you posted."

hooky

2007-04-08T23:49:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, #IV
By Dick Darne 4-8-07
"I guess 1955 is long enough ago that we can use real names and places." I began. "It was a warm spring morning back in ‘good ole virginny.’ We had been picked up by the school bus at the elementary school for a 30 minute ride to the county high school. My cousin, Freddy and I had already decided to replace our stuffy, boring classrooms with a little outdoor adventure commonly known as ‘hooky.’ Simple enough, just get off the bus at the high school, turn right instead of left, a quick step into the bushes, around the back of the school, across old Lee highway, over to the road back to our town. Only one thing was missing, we needed to corrupt someone. All the while we were laying our plans, Lanny was listening. We knew he had never played hooky before, heck, he always did his homework. His hand was always raised, eager to supply the answer in class. He also never failed to alert the teacher if she forgot to give us our holiday weekend assignments. In short, he made us look bad. We just figured we made him look good. We worked on him the entire ride to the high school and finally got him to agree to join us.
"OK, you guys have talked me into it" He exclaimed, as we got off the bus and turned right.
"Left for school, right for the road to perdition." I was thinking as we sneaked through the woods, around the school, across the road and high adventure"
"I wonder if I should have let you all talk me into this" Lanny said as we crossed Lee highway. "We can go back now and we’ll only be a little late."
"Shaddup" said Freddy. "It’s too late now"
Lanny mumbled something. We reached our road, old Chain Bridge Road. "Takes us right home, if the Truant Officer doesn’t catch us" I said.
"I shouldn’t have done this" Lanny moaned.
As we settled in our best hitch-hiker’s pose, walking backwards, right arms pointing into the road and thumbs pointing in the desired direction, worse than meeting the truant lady was the horrifying sight of a black sedan with the big red dome on top. A cherry top. A cop. Going in the direction towards the school, but the traffic was coming to a halt. He would soon be stopped right next to us.
"Oh, no!" cried Lanny.
Freddie and I were much more experienced than Lanny. He looked as if he was about to surrender and throw himself at the mercy of the law. We acted quickly.
"Let’s get outa here" we hollered as we climbed the bank and into an over fallowed pasture, stopping behind a clump of bushes.
"He’s coming after us"
"Run"
"Oooo I never should have done this."
Across the field we did run like the wind, until we came to the woods. Diving into the foliage we peeked back toward the highway. No cop, but he appeared a little rotund, from our brief glimpse, and probably wasn’t about to chase us on foot.
"He’s gone for help. They’re gonna throw a dragnet around us. Hounds and all. I’m done for!" wailed Lanny.
"Shaddup!" Freddie and I exclaimed in unison.
The morning sun was warming things up by now. that included gnats, ticks, chiggers, spiders, snakes and all types of man eating creatures, but we couldn’t show ourselves yet. We decided to stay in the deep woods and circumvent the dragnet. We plodded on, finding an old abandoned railroad track leading to an old abandoned brewery. We could have had more fun except for the constant lament from Lanny.
"Oooooh why did I ever let you guys talk me into this. Oooooh my life is over."
We didn’t have the heart to tell him that we were dead meat the minute we didn’t show up in our first class. Or that the cop was probably on his way to the donut shop and there was no dragnet.
I haven’t heard from Lanny in almost 50 years, but I think he went on to become an activist, encouraging kids to not play hooky. Or to never listen to the likes of us. I do hope he had at least one more fun filled high adventure in his life.
Freddie went on to become a successful electrician, and is retired and lives near our ancestral home place in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.
I went on to become a two county famous author in beautiful downtown Alberton.
A final note: Kids, please don’t try this, we were highly trained professionals. When you’re older, you can call in sick at work.
Keep ideating. dd

the village

2007-04-03T20:34:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. IV, # III
By Dick Darne 4-3-07
"So, does it take a village to raise a child?" asked Johhny. "Some will say it’s strictly the job of the parents, and the State should stay out of it."
"There’s a big difference between ‘The State’, which could mean anything from the whole country , individual states, or even counties, as opposed to ‘a village’, which could mean from the neighborhood on up through a town or a small county." Answered Gno. "the State has taxing power and can supply funding, but probably will be short on actually caring at the individual level, whereas the village may not have much money, but can know each child individually from birth until he or she leaves the nest."
"Yeah, when I was a lad, you couldn’t get away with anything in the little town I grew up in." said Bill. "The news of your mischief usually beat you home."
"Don’t seem to work anymore, a lot of parents wont believe their ‘little darlings’ could do any wrong and you may be told to mind your own business." added Todd.
"Or even told that by the ‘little darlings’ themselves." said Bill.
"I don’t know about you younger guys, but us older boys like, Bill, Dick and myself remember the golden years of child rearing, first hand." said Gno.
"I do." I said. "You didn’t dare sass any elder, you addressed non- relatives as mister, miss or missus. Ms. hadn’t been invented yet, but ‘miz’ usually sufficed for any lady. Please and thank you were not optional and you were subject to correction by any adult and it would be reaffirmed by your own parents. If you got in trouble at school, the ‘village’ considered you guilty until proven innocent. A licking at school earned you another at home if you complained"
"It some of us a while to figure the power of the telephone, when we would play hooky from school, we spent the day in blissful ignorance, not realizing we were already caught because the school called home to check on us. I have to admit it was fun until time to face the music." Said Bill.
"just think of all the goody two shoes who missed out on all the fun and punishment" mused Gno.
"I remember talking a goody two shoes into playing hooky, his first and only time. Fifty some years ago."I reminisced. "Poor guy’s probably still agonizing over it. He could be somebody important . I’ll have to change names to protect the guilty." stay tuned for the next breathtaking episode. dd

dad's pride

2007-03-26T23:21:00.000-06:00

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

2007-03-26T23:19:00.000-06:00

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

2007-03-07T00:00:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-05T22:37:00.000-07:00

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

true believers

2007-02-25T21:40:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, # XVIII
By Dick Darne 2-26-07
True Believers
"I wonder what he meant about ‘true-believer-cons’, you know, about them being worse than greedy, larcenous cons?" Johnny asked.
"Well, can you think of an example?" Bill replied.
"I can", exclaimed Todd. "That nut-case Majority Speaker of The House, over in Helena. Used to be one of my Union Brothers. I don’t know what happened to him."
"Probably O-D’d on the kool-aid" offered Bill.
"There’s a little more to it than that" said an authoritative voice. Elder was back.
"You see, it gets mighty tiresome caring about some things. Worrying about our downtrodden and vulnerable citizens. Single mothers and their kids. Hard working, honest people who just can’t catch a break in a system that’s stacked against most people. People who work two or more jobs and still are one paycheck away from disaster. People, young and old, who are one illness away from disaster .All this on top of a heavy obligation of an oath to ‘extend a helping hand to all branches of honorable toil.’. This can take a heavy toll on a man. He did the only thing that seemed sensible at the time. He became a Republican, drank heavily of the kool-aid, subscribed to the con beliefs and now he thinks he’s a happy man. No more worries."
"Well, if ignorance is bliss, I guess so" chuckled Todd. "I wonder if he’d like to come out and have a beer with his old brothers sometime?"
"I’ve seen this a lot over the ages" said Elder "The oppressed become the oppressors. The crusaders for good go bad. The ‘leader’ who leads you out leads you into worse things. The clean become corrupted."
"By-golly", said Johnny, "Sounds like the kool-aid is more addictive than any of the drugs known to man."
"I’ll offer another little tid-bit for you boys to chew on." said Elder, "then I’ll have to skedaddle over to another ‘Thinkathon’. Read your labor history. Read what a brave hero was John L. Lewis. He organized the coal mines, where it was sorely needed. The story you may have to root a little harder to find is his later years, wearing the three piece suits and hobnobbing with the big business tycoons. And drinking the kool-aid."
Stay tuned and keep-a-thinking. Same time, same place, next week. dd

the phone call

2007-02-18T00:18:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, # XVII
By Dick Darne 2-17-07
The phone call
"What’s that number" asked Johnny.
"It’s 1-800-NOV-OODO, it’ll put you right through to the Financial Tech Department" answered Gno.
Johnny dialed and put the phone on speaker, turning the volume up. After a few rings, a voice came from the speaker.
"Financial Tech, Professor Berkowitz here, just call me Sven. I see you’re calling from Montana, to give me the latest Nodak joke maybe?"
"Oh no, we have some serious questions from our think tank. We were told you were the best." replied someone in the tank.
"Ah, wunnerful, wunnerful, if we don’t ask questions, how will we ever learn? Not puffballs, but real questions. Go ahead, my friends, ask away!"
At once the queries began, first all at once, then settling down to a moderate stream. Instead of giving detailed answers to each one, he insinuated that one should never depend on a single source, be skeptical, place things in a wider context and always be aware of the framing. For an example, he referred to the raw materials passing in opposite directions.
"It makes perfect sense in a framework of lunacy" said Sven. "Classic economics served us well until ‘Voodoo economics’ came along. There have always been proponents of economic policies designed to make the rich richer and the rest of us poorer. The last time it was tried it turned into a horror show, you boys aren’t old enough to remember the great depression yourselves, but some of you have been told stories by those who were there. It took FDR, massive public works and sadly, a war to recover. After the war, we had some of the best times. Unfortunately, those who would take us back to those times never gave up. Some may call them conservatives, but that’s not true. Real conservatives would never behave this way. Best to refer to them as just ‘cons’. Actually there are two kinds, the good old fashioned greedy, larcenous, without a conscience ones and even worse, the true-believers, who truly do believe that making the rich richer really benefits all of us. Some of the already rich true believers put the money up for all the twisted thinking tanks and backed ‘the Great Communicator to sell us a bill of goods. It’s ‘morning in America again’ indeed. Boys, I’ve got to get back to work now, but call anytime and keep thinking"
Sven hung up and there was a "wow" like silence. The boys now had some serious thinking ahead. Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode. dd

economics

2007-02-12T18:33:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers Vol III, #XVI

By Dick Darne 2-12-07

Economics

The following morning found the thinkers hard at it.
“Where’s old Dick this morning?” asked Johnny.
“He went to Portland, had to do a bunch of things on his daughter’s house, water heater, furnace, drier, general fixing.” Replied Bill. “Us older guys have figured out that daughters always need their Dads”
“We’ll just have to get along without him” said Todd. “There’s something I noticed on the way here that might warrant some thinking. I passed at least three loads of raw logs heading in opposite directions.”
“Yeah, and I’ve noticed load after load of finished lumber passing each other going in opposite directions too.” Said Bill.
“ Really great sharing the road with those monsters this time of year, too.” added Johnny.
“Ever since the ‘Great-Communicator’ deregulated trucking, there has been no more Sonnys and Wills, they all have to keep on trucking just to make wages.”
“According to the Wall Street Journal, our food travels an average of 1500 miles, from the source to the table” stated Todd.
“I guess this begs even more questions” said a new voice from across the room. “mind if I comment? My name’s Gno Lackowitz, from over across the river.” Without waiting he began. “Don’t we make anything in our great land anymore?” “What happens if we continue to buy like drunken sailors from abroad and sell very little that is made here?” “How in the world can workers making a small fraction of our wages buy anything we made if we did make anything?” “Aren’t we going to eventually ‘square things up’, after all, if things can’t go on forever, then they won’t.”
“Here in the USA we are less than 5% of the population and we consume close to 50% of the resources.” added Todd.
“Your children and grandchildren will!” exclaimed Padre, in a booming voice. “is that justice?”
“And eventually someone’s going to have to reckon with me!” spoken in an even more authoritative voice. Old Mother Nature didn’t speak often, but when she did, everyone knew she had spoken.
“I hear about a place that specializes in economics over in North Dakota. Called ‘The Nodak Institute of Financial Technology’, Professor Sven Berkowitz, studied with the best.” Said Gno.
“Think Dick’ll mind if we make a long distance call?” someone said.

Stay tuned, same time, next week, when the boys race to make the call before Dick gets back from Portland.
dd

high adventure

2007-02-05T22:24:00.001-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, #XV
By Dick Darne 2-5-07
High Adventure
After every one had left, I settled down in the only comfortable chair in the tank. I closed my eyes (to rest them, of course) and thought about the coming spring and summer. I had been planning a bicycle trip from Washington, DC to Pittsburgh Pa. Starting at the mall, right in the middle of the symbols of our history, traveling up the tow path of the historic C&O canal for about 135 miles to Cumberland Md., over the divide and down the Alegheney trail to Pittsburgh. Right through the heart of the history of our Republic. Pittsburgh was at the heart of the Whiskey Rebellion. Cumberland was where George Washington turned back after leading the troops he sent to quell the rebellion. The canal was built to bring goods from the frontier to the seaboard. I grew up just outside DC, while I would never expect to find much the same, I’ll bet the memorials and symbols are unchanged. As I got more comfortable, I drifted back to the thrilling days of yesteryear.
There we were, me and two of my friends, standing on the side of old Chain Bridge Road, about six miles out in Virginia. We extended our thumbs, pointing behind us as we walked backwards toward DC. It didn’t take long in those days, odds were someone who knew us would stop and let us pile in. Or pass us by and tell our mothers. About half the time we would get just over the bridge and our ride would be turning off, leaving us on old Canal Road. Hitching rides was not allowed in DC, so we would hike along the road until we came to one of the many old rowboats tied to each shore, to be used by the people who used to live in "the lowlands" between the canal and the river. If they saw us we were chased away, usually after we crossed the canal. We then followed the towpath to the Mall.
At our ages, the biggest attraction was the Washington Monument. Five hundred and fifty five feet, five and one eighth inches high. Ten cents for the elevator, which we never spent. Like the real men of those days, we walked up the stairs. What a view! There was just openings in the stone for windows, inviting us to roll various objects down the sloping sill and thence to the ground at thirty two feet per second per second or enough to penetrate one of the many living skulls lining the benches around the base but we never found the objects or a broken skull. Just in case, can they still bust us after fifty plus years?
We then had to hike back out of DC and stick out our thumbs in the hitch hiker-friendly state of Virginia.
Out where I lived was lots of "attractive nuisances". One was the old Salona Plantation, where Dolly Madison fled to and watched the Capitol burn. We spent many days searching for the "secret passages". There was a hand dug cave just off an old trail which may have been part of the underground railroad. Are they still there? Can you really go back home?
I’m more excited than the kids in the Disneyland ad. We’ll see. I’ll be reporting from the scene. dd

padre

2007-01-21T10:35:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, #XIV
By Dick Darne 1-20-07
Padre
When I arrived at the Think Tank the next morning, the fire was going, the coffee on and everyone from yesterday was already settled in. In addition, there was one new face, it seemed familiar but I couldn’t quite place it. A handsome face with chiseled features, but his arms were really impressive. Heckova set of pipes.
"Where do I know you from, the gym?" I queried.
In a booming voice he replied: "You saw me many times when you were a young fellow, on some of your high adventure excursions, sitting in front of the Supreme Court building."
That was true. As a lad, living in Virginia, just across the river from our Nation’s Capitol, we would hitchhike into DC and marvel at all the free things to see. He was one of them. I searched my memory archives. He was called: Guardian or Authority of Law.
"That’s one of the names they gave me" he said, as if he could read my mind. "I prefer ‘Father Justice’ or better yet, just call me ‘Padre.’ "
"Why are you here, we haven’t got that far yet?" asked Bill, cradling his coffee cup as only a working man can do.
"You will soon enough, I’m just here for a little observation, maybe a tip or too. Word’s out in my circles, maybe some decent thinking going down. Good thinking has never been neat and orderly. There’s a fine line between order and a framed debate. One of the warning signs is ‘group-think’. Lots of mischief over the ages caused by group-think Also don’t forget the difference between Justice and Law. Or the difference between good law and bad law. Bad law is purposely disguised as civil society, which guarantees the rich their plunder."
"Most of what I thought was thinking occurred in the bars after work." Bill said. "After listening to Rush for a couple hours on the way home, your mind would be conditioned to ‘group-think’ and once in the bar, no one would say anything that wouldn’t be expected to play well in the bar."
"I’ve noticed the same thing," replied Todd. "And then everyone would go home and watch Fox news, and pat themselves on the back for being well informed"
"And that’s the way the ruling elite prefer it." Padre added. "Group think is easily manipulated. Ignorance begets more ignorance and while a frontal assault on ignorance is bound to fail, it can be manipulated also. History is full of examples, but real history is not taught. It is out there but one must search it out. Do you remember your high school history teacher, Dick? She told you that if you didn’t learn anything else, there was always more than one side to any story."
It seemed as if Padre could read memories. He left us with a parting thought:
"The best remedy for injustice is a long memory"
Keep thinking and stay tuned. dd

the newcomers

2007-01-21T10:31:00.001-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. III, #XIII
By Dick Darne 1-20-07
The Newcomers
Elder faded away and was replaced by The Lady.
"Carry on, boys" she said; "Just don’t keep it in a box."
"What do you mean?" asked Johnny; "Aren’t all the other rights worthless without the second?
"Not at all. Without the others, you’d soon find yourselves alone, divided and at each other’s throats. You boys should think about all our rights. The Old Boys who originally thought out these things; even though they all had flaws; even allowing for the mores of their times; were still the largest and best collection of brains in history."
More people had quietly drifted in. More brain power, I hoped. The Lady floated back, away from the newcomers. One of the newcomers appeared to be too young to be a thinker, college student, maybe? He carried a folded up copy of the Wall Street Journal under his arm. What kind of yuppie deal have we got here I was thinking. If the Lady called us mature citizens boys, what will she call him, Toddler?
"Todd Young’s my name, I heard there was some heavy thinking going on here and if it’s all right with you gentlemen, I’d like to join you"
"So, what are you, a frat boy of some kind, can you really understand that Wall Street Whatever you got there?" said Johnny.
"No, I was never a frat boy, I did try to go to college but it just costs too much. I’m a Union Pipefitter, money’s good but on the road a lot. Our work depends on a good economy and it seems there are a lot of things that don’t add up, like so-called free trade, outsourcing, stuff like that."
"Well, what the heck you reading that rag for, isn’t Wall Street in on the shafting of the working man?" exclaimed Johnny.
"It sure is, but in order to screw us over properly, Big Corporations need accurate facts, the WSJ provides those facts. The editorial page makes you want to barf, but there it is, advance notice of our shafting."
"Hey, this feller makes a lot of sense. I busted my butt in the woods for more years than I care to remember, always busy, had to get my news off the radio traveling to and from work, never really heard any different views, oh I’m sorry, Bill Woods’ the name, retired logger and aspiring thinker."
"Are we getting off the track?" said Johnny, " I thought we were going to discuss the Bill of Rights"
"Actually you are." The Lady was back. "Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, different views, different opinions, marketplace of ideas and hopefully, more questions than answers. Got to go now, liberty alert elsewhere calling, your homework is to think. I shall return!"
Stay tuned! dd

the thinkers

2007-01-08T23:14:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, #XII
By Dick Darne 1-8-07
The Thinkers
The next morning I laid another fire, put on the coffee pot and eagerly awaited the onslaught of thinkers. After all, here in Alberton, we mature male citizens are well above average in our aggregate wisdom. Soon the door opened and a hardy looking character entered, obviously packing heat, as shown by the bulge under his jacket. A hit man? While my writings have been called drivel, to date I have received no death threats and don’t recall any dealings with the mafia.
"Hi, this the think tank?" He said jovially.
"This be it, I’m Dick, curator of the Gravely Institute of the Rockies and sponsor of the Think-Tank. And you are?"
"Johnny Sixgun, from up the creek. Any chance of thinking about gun rights? You got any guns?"
"Some, I quit hunting a few years ago when my hip was bad, it’s fixed now, just never started again."
"Well, where do you stand on the Second Amendment?"
"Like the other nine, we should defend it by all available means, but sometimes the ‘Pogo Principle’ applies."
"Just what the heck is the ‘Pogo Principle’?"Johnny wondered out loud.
"Pogo was a possum in an old comic strip, who said: ‘we have met the enemy and he is us.’" I explained. "Sometimes we shoot ourselves in the foot (no pun intended) with our words and deeds." I looked across the room and there was Elder. The door never opened, he was just there.
"Howdy boys, nice start. You all mind if I toss out a little thought fodder? Before we could answer he began.
" Did you ever stop to think that if the bad guys wanted to get a list of the gun owners, they wouldn’t need a registration list, they would only need the NRA subscription list. It’s also quite well known who’s got the guns, most can’t keep their mouths shut about their firepower. The ‘rambo types’ stand out also. Does anybody think they can barricade themselves in their castle and withstand the power of the State? Anyone surviving a partial brain birth should recognize the true nutcases, who truthfully shouldn’t even have access to moderately sharp objects, who are a far bigger danger to the Second Amendment than any bleeding heart liberal ever was."
"I never really thought about that stuff." Johnny said.
"This is a Think-Tank isn’t it?" said Elder. He seemed to be fading away.
"Got other places to be, let me leave you with some homework-thinking." His voice fading away, " Have you guys been supporting and voting for the wrong guys? Could it be they just want your votes? Do they really care about you? The really rich guys will always have a place to hunt even when all the commons is gone." He faded away. Stay tuned dd

visitors to the think tank

2007-01-08T20:49:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, # XI
By Dick Darne 1-6-07
THE VISITORS
A couple of days into the new year, I arose early and went out to the new think tank. I figured I’d get a good fire going and eagerly wait for the thinkers to show up. I laid the fire and settled back to wait for the wonderful radiant rays to toast my body and sharpen my mind. Since I hadn’t had any coffee yet, I leaned back and closed my eyes.
Soon the door opened and a stranger walked in. Not a tall, dark one, but a man who looked old, like he had seen a lot. Thinking it must be a new retired wise man in town, I jumped up to introduce myself. "I’m Dick, curator of the Gravely Institute and sponsor of the Think Tank."
"Sit down, Sonny Boy, that don’t impress me, there’s more a-coming and I’m just here to learn, the name’s Eldergeeser, you can call me Elder." He reached for the doorknob, opened the door, and the most elegant lady I had ever seen walked, or I should say, floated in.
She looked so familiar, yet difficult to describe. Each time she turned she looked different. She was at once, all races, all tribes, all classes. I was a bit dumbfounded, after all, the Institute was one of the last bastions of maleness. No girls allowed.
Before I could speak, she introduced herself. "I am Lady Liberty." She did resemble the image on some of the old coins, but in person she looked older and wiser. As if sensing my bewilderment and confusion, she replied to the question not asked yet, "That’s not the real me on the coins, a bunch of PR guys did that without my consent, years ago, you know ‘ Rah-rah-wave the flag; we’re number one; stuff. Liberty is more than slogans, and it does require serious thinking, and I’m here to help the Think Tank get it’s mind straight. There’s already too many think-tanks churning out rotten thinking."
Elder twisted the knob again, and another lady strode through the door.
This one was elegant in a different way. First, she looked like she could play front-four for any NFL team. She also had the "Mom" air about her, including the built-in lie detector. This lady didn’t take any guff, yet like a Mom, she would go the distance for you, but even the best Mom has her limits.
"Mother Nature’s the name, Junior, and what are you staring at?" Well, I had always pictured her differently and it must have shown.

"Yeah, PR idiots again, making me out to be a prancing little fairy. They did get one thing right, it IS NOT nice to try to fool Mother Nature, and you can’t fool me anyway. Lotta men tried, lotta men died. Heh heh."

"You thinkers start thinking, we’ll be watching and we will be back," said Elder. I started to ask how to get in touch with them, but they were gone. Next thing I knew, it was cold, the fire had died out and I was alone. Did this happen? Stay tuned. dd

the new year

2006-12-31T22:26:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. III, #10
By Dick Darne 12-31-06
Tonight, on this last day of the year, I was reflecting on this year and all the things that didn’t get done, but will for sure this coming year. Here they are:
1) The usual stuff, like clean my room, organize my junk, learn computer skills, kill all the weeds, organize my tools, recycle etc., sure, but don’t hold your breath.
2)Take several serious bike trips. At least one camping out. At least one over 100 miles. Anyone interested in joining is welcome. Suggestions for routes welcome. Sag vehicle driver/cook welcome.
3)Hike to top of LoLo peak. Should go before fire season and before the jerk below it ruins it even more.
4) Get the Gravely Mountain Boys, Bluegrass Band Extraordinaire, back up and running. We haven’t sung all our songs yet.
5) Collect the stories and accumulated wisdom of the old timers around here. If we don’t, they will for sure take it with them.
6)Help a stranger, without him knowing about it.
7)Fix stuff that needs fixing.
8)Help a friend sneak a new tool or toy home.
9)Buy a book, read it and give it away.
10) Most important, practice democracy and citizenship. Contact my elected officials. Question authority. Read budgets. Ask why. Petition my government. Don’t give up a single right. Don’t look for the leader on the white horse, he can lead us into trouble as easily as out of it. "They" is me. And YOU.
"Whenever you have an efficient government you have a dictatorship"
Harry Truman 33rd president of the U.S. dd

The Gravely Institute of the Rockies

2006-12-25T23:35:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. III, #9
By Dick Darne 12-25-06
It’s a great day to be alive and well, this Christmas day in beautiful downtown Alberton. I would like to thank all my faithful readers for your interest and support this year. In the coming year, I will utilize the underutilized services of "The Gravely Institute Of The Rockies", a prestigious think tank, located in the heart of the rockies, right here in Alberton. This is where the wisest of the wise, the most experienced, smartest, best educated, manliest of men come together to share our brains. We will convene as necessary to think about stuff. The most brilliant musings will appear in the Alberton Papers, but we can think on request. Of course, being a not-for-profit, we can only accept compensation in the form of pies. This will contribute to our piety. If someone has a particular problem that requires some serious thinking, or just some "allowing", drop us a line. For a confidential reply, send a self addressed, stamped envelope and no one will ever know. Our expert thinkers are eagerly waiting to serve you. Our range of thoughts extend from foreign policy ( ex. Q. What about Red China? A. Should be set on a white tablecloth.) To down to earth, (ex. Q. What’s the white stuff in chicken dung? A. It’s chicken dung also). For your love life, be sure to include all details, as it helps with the thought process. Standing by to assist us are our consultants in North Dakota, at the Nodak Institute of Financial and Musical Technology, (NIFMUT).
Keep those cards and letters coming in. dd

heroes, scoundrels and charlatans

2006-12-20T00:02:00.001-07:00

The Alberton Papers Vol. III, #8
By Dick Darne 12-19-06
Heroes, Scoundrels and Charlatans
".....while there is a lower class, I am in it; while there is a criminal element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free....." Eugene Debs, addressing the court at his sentencing to prison for speaking out against the "War to end all Wars", 1918.
The hero is Debs, by now an old man, who had fought his battles and sung his song. But there was one more song to sing, to defy the Sedition Act, be arrested, tried, convicted and sent to prison for ten years. While in prison he ran for President and received a million votes.
For the scoundrel, take your pick: J.P.Morgan, who had loaned France and England millions of dollars and whose money was more important than the American people; or Woodrow Wilson, who was elected to keep us out of war, but bowed to the House of Morgan; or Congress, who passed the Sedition Laws; or any number of death merchants who stood to profit. Lets not forget George Creel, the "father of propaganda", which is what it was called then, but later "public information".( the dirty commie Ruskies did propaganda).
For the charlatan, fast forward to today, and I give you Newt Gingrich. Nobody in their right mind would even consider him for President, but he blathers on about limiting free speech as per the wishes of the moneyed elite. This award should be shared with certain pundits and blowhards in the mainstream media who give him a platform. Every freedom loving American should take a solemn vow to kick his butt, on sight, into the next county. That goes for Limbaugh, O’Reilly, Hannity, Coulter, Broder, Novak and the rest of the enemies of freedom.
Listen, Learn, Think! dd

heptad of sins

2006-12-11T22:24:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, # 7
By Dick Darne 12-11-06
"The unexamined life is not worth living" Socrates.
To examine life one may start with all the things one should do and must do, but first let’s examine things one shouldn’t do or better not do. We can start with the Seven Deadly Sins. Nice and handy, and already listed. Not complete, but a starting point.
The first of the heptad is Lust. Since little children may read this, I will refer the reader to the daytime soaps or most modern sit-coms or other drivel that passes for entertainment. Still a no-no unless it is lust for tools, which has been proven to be harmless.
Next is Gluttony, which I have always figured to be when someone else does it, when I do it it is "a hearty appetite". Could also apply to tools. It must be a rather low ranking sin, some French chef appealed to the Pope to have it removed from the list.
Greed and Avarice. To quote Shakespeare: " See, sons, what things you are, How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object". We have been in the "Age of Greed" for quite a few years now, lots of corrupt politicians, who besides grabbing all the boodle they can, have worked tirelessly to make it legal. Our business schools and law schools are in it up to their eyeballs. Diogenes is still looking for someone to hold his lamp.
Sloth. Now what’s wrong with an afternoon nap, or fishing, or just sitting around B.S.ing? Or after 40 years of 40 hrs a week, doing whatever you want to? Or for that matter is it your business who does what as long as you don’t have to support him? But there is a time when Sloth is bad. When everybody does it, to quote Thomas Pynchon: " Sloth is the failure of Public Will, allowing the introduction of evil policies and the rise of evil regimes". In recent memory: Fascists of the 20's & 30's, Vietnam, Reagan- Bush, the Neo-Cons and the boy king of today.
Envy, (jealousy & malice) Nothing wrong with being a little jealous of those of us who have nice tools, but buying up at all the yard sales and outbidding at auctions may be going a little too far. Also "ratting" your buddy out for trying to sneak a tool home is the ultimate no-no.
Wrath. (Anger, hatred, prejudice, discrimination). These things can get you in a lot of trouble. Maybe a ride on the lightning express. Really bad in the wrong hands. Best to keep a short list and just imagine them boiling in oil, or something like that. Does wonders for your relationships with people not on the list. Just the threat of being put on the list keeps ‘em in line.
Pride/Hubris (vanity, narcissism) . Really, really bad in the wrong hands. Custer got his comeuppance, but at least he didn’t have his finger on the "nuklar- trigger". Not so today. "Mission Accomplished", "Bring-em-on", "Axis of Evil". Our reputation shot. Treasury emptied. Children and grandchildren in hock forever. Nice work. Should earn the whole bunch a ride on the "Big Lightning Express".
As one can see, most of the really bad stuff can be prevented if we can eliminate Slothfulness of the Public. Think! Question! Learn! dd

scoundrels and heroes

2006-12-04T21:50:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers Vol III, #6
By Dick Darne 12- 5 -06
"Solidarnosk" Lech Walesa
The "Evil Empire" was not defeated by Ronald Reagan and "Morning in America Again", but by a Polish Union Electrician and Solidarity. The victories are few and far apart, but this was a big one. Let’s go back to the thrilling days of yesteryear and examine one scoundrel and one hero.
The scoundrel is none other than the infamous detective agency, The Pinkertons.
Besides supplying perjurers as told about in a previous story, they were suppliers of scabs, strikebreakers and goons to American industry, big business tycoons and robber barons. After the Wagner act was passed in 1935, protecting the working man’s right to organize, the Pinkertons’ product became a little more subtle. They sent spies to join unions, infiltrate and cause as much mischief as possible. Almost all large corporations utilized this except Henry Ford. He had his own secret police, and simply didn’t need them.
The hero is Robert LaFollette, son of "Fighting Bob LaFollette", (hero in his own right), both progressive republicans and two of the best friends of the working man we have ever seen. Bob jr. chaired the LaFollette civil liberties committee in congress in the late thirties, which exposed the scoundrels’ activities. Alas, Bob was one of the first victims of a then up-and-coming scoundrel, (Senator Joe McCarthy, another story), and committed suicide in 1953.
Mr Pinkerton, you sang off-key. Bob, you sang like a meadowlark while it lasted. If we could award burning fires or angel wings, it would be a no-brainer as to who gets what.
Where are today’s great republicans? The best defense against injustice is long memories. dd

tools

2006-11-27T20:27:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, #5
By Dick Darne 11-27-06
"Man is a tool using Animal. Nowhere do you find him without tools; without tools he is nothing, with tools he is all." Thomas Carlyle, Scottish Philosopher
Here at the Gravely Institute of The Rockies, located in beautiful downtown Alberton, we have just concluded an in-depth study of tools. We found that not only are tools necessary to man’s survival in today’s world, but they are cool. Anybody can fix things with a pair of pliers and a bent screwdriver, but it takes a real craftsman to use tools. Besides fixing stuff and building things, tools are a status symbol. He who dies with the most tools wins, or at least starts a big fight among his surviving family upon his death. One can never have too many tools. Proof: "there’s more than one way to skin a cat" means different tools for each method. There is much more proof, space dictates I must move on, just trust me. Some techniques for accumulating tools are: yard sales, bargain bins, auctions and for tools of your dreams, subtle hints like leaving the catalog open and marked. Catalogs should be collected, just buy something from one and a lifetime flow of catalogs will commence. Great bathroom reading material. Another method is a very minor technique closely related to blackmail, "Honey, I can’t do all these chores, I don’t have the right tools". Shop together at Ace hardware, she gets ideas for projects and you get an opening for a new tool. Always be prepared. When you graduate to the "Big Leagues"then it’s time for Montana Tool gift certificates. Soon you’ll need a shop, or a bigger one than you have now. At the Institute, we have concluded that the right size would be about 50 X 100, insulated, wired and with floor heat, but most of us will settle for less. I worked for years for an outfit, where hanging on the wall was a sign saying: " A determined man can do more with a rusty wrench than a lazy loafer with all the tools in a machine shop".
Now where’s the fun in that?
Keep your tools cool. Visit the Institute, or at least contribute. dd

crime & punishment part one

2006-11-19T23:04:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol.III, #4
By Dick Darne 11-19-06
Crime and Punishment part one
"It is error only, and not truth, that shrinks from inquiry" Thomas Paine
I will now weigh in on the "bus incident". As to what "dog" I have in the fight, I have no kids in school anymore, but I have had seven attend here and six graduate, plus two foreign exchange students Out of these came misbehavior, punishment, and, in some cases, suspension. For one, the punishment meted out was too severe, he successfully argued for a more appropriate punishment to a board of trustees who were not totally "wooden-headed". He went on to graduate and eventually become an Alberton School Trustee. My "dog" in the fight is Justice for all the kids.
I am sure I am not the only person who was surprised and dismayed by the board’s refusal to reconsider last week. In spite of public utterances by the County Attorney, the Sheriff, the Juvenile Probation Officer, Teachers, an ex-Trustee, the Local Pastor and community members, all either advocating reconsideration, or extolling the integrity of all students involved, the trustees refused, acting as though their minds were already made up.
It appears that these boys have lost all extra curricular activities, all sports, been charged with a misdemeanor, served a three week suspension and are performing community service. Since the incident, at least one has made the honor roll.
Among the qualifications for "wooden-headedness" is: a stubborn refusal to change course when a clear alternative is available. The boys have accepted blame, and now, more than anyone, know not to ever do it again. I would expect them to be in the vanguard of hazing elimination in Alberton. Because the old adage, "boys will be boys" is true, adult supervision is necessary, therefore an adult should have been positioned in the back of the bus a long time ago.
While in some societies a failure of this magnitude would call for seppuku , in ours an acknowledgment of a "learning experience" is sufficient. I would bet that Mr. Walsh now knows better than most and would also be in the vanguard. Probably be a better coach, teacher and principal too.
Enough is enough, rehabilitation rather than excessive punishment, learning rather than blame, redemption rather than humiliation.
I’ll bet on the boys, I’ll bet on the coach, they have learned. The trustees, I just don’t know.
It does take a village! Keep thinking and asking questions. dd

scoundrels 1, justice 1

2006-11-13T21:39:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol III, #3
By Dick Darne 11-12-06
Scoundrels 1, Justice 1

"In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial by an impartial jury....." - Amendment VI, U.S. constitutions.
Justice has been thwarted quite often due to a real scoundrel, sometimes it prevails. This is a true story about a first class scalawag, of whom we can only hope he is roasting in the fire and brimstone below. James McParland is he, a dastardly prevaricator, who bore false witness against several members of the so-called "Molly McGuires"while in the employ of the Pinkertons (who have never been a friend of the toiling class). The Pinkertons were in the employ of Franklin P Gowen. Gowen was the head of the Reading Railroad, the coal trust and owner of the Avondale coal mine. Gowen was also a lawyer, who prosecuted the defendants with perjured testimony from McParland. Nineteen men were convicted of murder and died on the gallows. McParland moved on to more lying, Gowen went insane a few years later and committed suicide. One for the scoundrels.
A couple decades later, the ex- governor of Idaho was murdered in Caldwell. The mine owners again turned to the Pinkertons, who once again called on their best perjurer, McParland, who was able to convince a witness to lie. The mine owners kidnapped "Big-Bill" Haywood, and hired Senator Borah to prosecute. Clarence Darrow was the defense attorney. The deck was thoroughly stacked, but the verdict came in: NOT GUILTY. One for justice.
There are many stories like these. The Pinkertons have been up to their eyeballs in labor disputes, always against the working class. The power of the state has intervened almost always against workers. For further reading, see "Labor’s Untold Story", "Big Trouble" and "The Molly McGuires". If your library or book store doesn’t have them contact me.
I dedicate this story to: Doyle, McGeehan, Boyle, Duffy, Kelly, Campbell, Donahue, Fisher, Kehoe, Hester, McHugh, Tully, McManus Lanahan , Sharpe, McDonald, Munley, Carroll and Roarity. They didn’t get to sing their song, but they died like men. dd

volvo driving, latte drinkers

2006-11-06T22:37:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. III, #2
By Dick Darne 11-6-06
Volvo driving, latte drinkers.
"Coffee falls into the stomach.....ideas start to move, things remembered arrive at full gallop....the shafts of wit start up like sharp-shooters, similes arise, the paper is covered with ink....." Honore de Balzac
I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, until now, nothing mattered except being called late to dinner. I recently was accused of being in a category of people who drive Volvos and drink lattes ( or is the plural latti?). I will now defend the first and refute the second.
1-a) new Volvos are predominant among young, upwardly mobile whatevers, or YUPPIES. Since neither I nor my Volvo are young, that ain’t me.
1-b) old Volvos are usually associated with old HIPPIES. I checked with and old hippie and having been a young hippie is not required to become an old hippie. While I think I would have made a good hippie, I have not taken the entrance exam and been inducted. I missed all the sex, drugs and rock & roll, but I take an occasional aspirin and listen to "the oldies" on the radio.
1-c) my Volvo was rescued from the crusher, $100 + a set of tires gets me 30 mpg.
1-d) the Swedes know how to build a car. Like Germans with good attitudes. Plus, all models will accommodate a set of skis and tow 3000 pounds. A veritable "Swedish Suburban"
so, I drive a Volvo.
2-a)real men don’t drink latte (or mocha or anything with a french name) proof: no recorded instance on record of John Wayne ever drinking anything but plain old coffee.
2-b)lattes, etc. taste terrible, but after paying an exorbitant price, no one will admit it.
2-c) while I have been present when some of my best friends have partaken of the yuppie-brew, I have remained faithful to the traditions of the Duke.
There you have it folks, I am an "old Volvo driving, plain old coffee drinking, curmudgeon". Your turn to buy next time. dd

scoundrels, pt.2

2006-10-30T21:39:00.000-07:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. III, #1
By Dick Darne 10-30-06
Scoundrels, part two.
"Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." Voltaire
In view of the mess our country is in today, lets examine one of the sources of flawed thinking. Leo Strauss,( no, not the guy who made denim britches, Levi), but the political scholar, who was from Germany (served in the German army in WW1), emigrated to America, wound up at U of Chicago where he taught and influenced most of today’s "Neo-conservatives", Wolfowitz, Pearle, Bolton, Kristol and the rest of the bunch known, not so affectionately, as "The Crazies" by the last several administrations. To be fair to Strauss, his teachings are complex and ultimate blame may belong to his "misbelievers" or to the Idiot- in chief who gave "The Crazies" credibility. What the Neo-cons seem to have gleaned from Strauss’ teachings is that: 1) Only the "enlightened" ones, (them), can understand the true meanings of knowledge and 2)it is essential to lie to the people. This certainly flies in the face of our Founding Fathers intentions.
I, along with a few others know the term, "stinkin’ thinkin’. This qualifies for sure. We also seem to have a whole generation who are lacking in how things work, or should work. Truth also seems to be gravely ill. Shouldn’t Civics, History and American Government be taught (and learned) in school. "Is our children learning?"
Our Republic is at risk. Learn Think Vote dd

popeye

2006-10-23T22:43:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol II, #20
By Dick Darne 10-23-06
" I yam strong to the finish, ‘cause I eats my spinach"
Popeye the sailor man.
In the recent contaminated spinach scare, some thought that the " terrists" had struck again. After a thorough investigation, they have been cleared. It is not necessary for them to attack our spinach because they hate our freedoms. We can do an adequate job ourselves. Good old yankee ingenuity. Yes we can raise our own cattle, feed them grain, encourage bad strains of E-coli, make them even worse with antibiotics and let their sewage run into the groundwater used for irrigation. Top it all off with an insane food distribution system that ensures widespread distribution throughout the homeland.
There are other ways we can hurt ourselves or make it easy for "terrists". Very, very little of our incoming ships are checked. Or trucks. Or planes, unless it’s for nail clippers or bottles of shampoo. Our chemical plants are not protected, but not to worry, the corporations are eternally vigilant.
Now that I think about it, we have met the enemy and he is us. Oooh Popeye, we needs ya now. Alas, poor Popeye, he ate the spinach but at least he never drank the kool-aid.
I don’t feel safe while the inmates are running the asylum.
Plant your own garden. Think. Vote. dd

bitter tears

2006-10-16T22:03:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol. II, #19
By Dick Darne 10-16-06
"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone" Harriet Beecher Stowe
Over 2700 of our young people who will never sing their song. Hundreds of thousands of Iraqi men, women and children will never get to sing their song either. All for the lies of a few. And the loud echos of the facilitators. And for the gullibility of many enablers. And those of us who didn’t do enough.
It began even before the lies. George W. Bush was never qualified to be anything. The facilitators didn’t report it. The lies began and not only was it not reported, they repeated them. Keep in mind that all these loudmouth chickenhawks either avoided military service or avoided any danger. Their children have also avoided being in harms way. It was provable lies that got us in this mess, lies piled on lies about the lies. Lies about anyone who disagrees with them. Lies about the lies by the people who should be challenging the lies.
Lies to justify shredding our Constitution. Lies to abandon the principles our country was founded on.
I’ve had enough! I absolutely love this country, but I hate what these idiots are doing to it. Habeas corpus literally means "produce the body", it used to protect all of us from being held without knowing what the alleged offense is. Now anyone deemed by the "decider" to be a terrorist can be locked up. Or "disappeared". Handy way to eliminate the opposition.
We need change but more than that we need accountability. Impeachment is in order, conviction if the evidence warrants it. Followed by appropriate punishment. Only then can the needed catharsis begin.
We owe it to those who will never get to sing their song. dd

hypocrites, liars and incompetents

2006-10-09T22:37:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol II, #18
By Dick Darne 10-10-06
Hypocrites, liars and incompetents.
"It would be easier if this was a dictatorship - as long as I’m the dictator"
Geo. W. Bush
Unless one were to get all his information from Fox News or others of their ilk, they would be hard pressed to find a reason to vote for any Republican (and not a few Democrats). While the present bunch will go down in history as one of (if not THE) worst, this has happened before.
First a bit of background on the author. I was born in the southland, 67 years ago. Raised up mostly redneck, right wing and bigoted. I remember McCarthy railing about Commies everywhere. I believed him. I read "Masters of Deceit" by J. Edgar Hoover and it scared the heck out of me. I even voted for Nixon the first time. (Hardhats for Nixon?). The conversion didn’t happen overnight. A little seed planted by a couple of high school teachers began to grow. About the time of Reagan (yes I voted for him the first time) actually about the time of "It’s morning in America again" the seed sprouted. Simple actually, we all know it, there is more than one side to a story and the victor gets to write the official version, or the school textbooks. That and some union activism led me to lots of other sides to stories. And a new set of heroes.
Space dictates briefness, so lets touch on the last three periods of Republican "Laissez- Faire" rule. First was after Harding, Coolidge and Hoover , FDR once again saved the Capitalist system from it’s excesses. (Cousin Teddy had done it once before) Second, which is in my memory, gave us McCarthy and commies everywhere. That sent them to the wilderness for 40 years. After licking their wounds and a little help from some previously mentioned scoundrels and the "great communicator",they started on the road to recovery. Add hypocrites and liars, a bought and paid for media , a gullible populace, 9/11, gross incompetence and we get a heckova mess.
Beware, anyone who can lead us out can also lead us in. As for "they oughta do something", remember, They is Us. Final note: A couple of my heroes are Republicans. Eisenhower and "Fighting Bob" LaFollette. Keep communicating, dd

mischief, pt.1

2006-10-02T22:55:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol II, # 17
By Dick Darne 10-2-06
"what a revolting development this turned out to be"
Wm. Bendix, in "Life of Riley" (50's tv show)
Today’s essay will be on "mischief", the first cousin of greed and scoundrels. 5 out of the 10 richest americans inherited their money and are in the same family. A little further down the list we will find more old (and inherited) money. We will also find these same multi millionaire/ billionaires have a worldview that they want to impose on us. In brief, the "massa" in the mansion on the hill smiles approvingly as the workers swing their lunch buckets and happily whistle on their way to work, to toil all day for old massa, whom god in his infinite wisdom has chosen to be in charge, have all the money and provide for what he deems necessary for his "children" who should not complain, but accept their lot in life. Doubt this? Check the funders of some of the think tank/ opinion shapers such as the Heritage Foundation, Hoover Institute and American Enterprise Institute. There you will find Olin, Richardson, Bradley, Coors, Scaife. These guys are not your friends. They fund all this nonsense. They are responsible for the climate in which it has become fashionable in big business circles to send all jobs possible to wherever the cheapest labor cost is. Outsourcing they call it, a race to the bottom I call it. It is true class warfare. If these "big shot-wannabees" had to start life as we all do, maybe they wouldn’t be capable of as much mischief. Of course they have a full compliment of facilitators, from the "decider" right down to the watchers of fox news and fans of O’Reilly, Limbaugh , Hannity and Coulter. My allotted words are up, more in part 2. dd

scoundrels part one

2006-09-25T22:37:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol II, #16
By Dick Darne 9-25-06
"No scoundrel is so stupid as to not find a reason for his vile conduct"
S. Gawain
Today’s lesson will be on famous scoundrels in history. Most successful scoundrels go down in history with bridges, schools and hospitals named after them. Since a short time ago it was fashionable to bash all things french, we will start with Pierre and Ir’en’ee duPont. (Yes, that is how it is spelled).
Lets go back to the thrilling , early days of autos, about 1921, when one of the big problems facing the fledgling auto manufacturer General Motors was pre-ignition, or "knocking". If they could solve this, they could raise the compression and obtain better performance. The best brains worked hard and came up with some viable solutions. Alcohol. Shades of Willie Nelson. Plain old ethanol, raises the "octane", prevents "knocking", allows better performance. Easily available and cheap.
Enter the duPonts. In those days, they owned about a third of GM. "Sacre-bleu , how we gonna make any money this way?" It couldn’t be patented, any farmer could make it, so back to the drawing board. Back about 1854, the German scientists discovered tetraethyl lead. No use at the time, but they noted that it was very toxic, like, dip your finger in it and go into convulsions. It did work as an antiknock additive but best of all, it could be patented. Market cornered. Big profits. First production was in New Jersey, where most of the toxic waste dumps are. New York got all the lawyers ,( but N.J. had first pick.) Workers got sick some died. The chief researcher, Thomas Midgely, who also gave us the hole in the ozone layer, almost died from lead poisoning. New York banned the stuff. It was sold everywhere else until the NY state legislature was finally bought off. Then came the ads: "Ethel is back".
The stuff was sold for decades, until overwhelming evidence of it’s harm forced it off the market. In the first world, that is. It is still sold in the third world countries. Funny, air knows no boundaries. dd

plunder part 2

2006-09-17T23:45:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol II, #15
By Dick Darne 9-17-06
Plunder, part 2.
"Every increased possession loads us with new weariness"
John Ruskin
A true story, but the names have been changed to protect life, limb and well being. Last week a friend of mine needed a carburetor for his lawn tractor. We will call him John. Always eager to help a fellow connoisseur of plunder, another friend (we will call him Tom) offered John a whole tractor. I then offered another one with a good engine and a couple good attachments. "While were at it, you may as well take these two old generators and some of this other machinery. I’ll even use my trailer and help you load and unload" said I in the true spirit of helping my fellow man. Thus began the journey down the road of good intentions. Even though this load of plunder would eventually enrichen the life of his wife, we thought it best to keep it secret until the full fruition of this project was realized. Nothing beats a surprise to enhance marital bliss. Unless it’s getting busted. Unfortunately a passerby inadvertently "ratted us out", spoiling the surprise, dampering marital bliss and placing me in harms way as described in "plunder part one". Fortunately John’s wife (we will call her Patricia) has a wonderful sense of humor and also had the wisdom to recognize all the potential benefits of our actions. Not everyone can be this fortunate, so I would advise plunder wannabes to leave serious activities like this to us "old hands" and "don’t try this at home". Come to think about it, I haven’t seen John in a week now......... dd

history of work, part one

2006-09-11T22:14:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers, Vol II, # 14
By Dick Darne 9-11-06
History of work, part one.
"Nothing is really work unless you would rather be doing something else"
James M. Barrie
In the early days of mankind, from the time there were two or more, one usually did more work than the other. After three or more, or somewhere thereabouts, one of them did no work at all. When persuasion failed, slavery began. Our learned history tells of the days of smiting one’s enemies, begatting more people and enslaving ones fellow man, but at this time there were several advanced civilizations throughout the planet founded on slavery. After all, why do it yourself if you can get someone else to do it for you. Even our founding fathers believed that only a man freed from labor would have time to reflect on governing. During the time of the enslavement of our african- american citizen’s ancestors, our great white fathers decided that we should care for three- fifths of their souls, so began the saving of their souls with the protestant ethic: "hard work is a virtue unto itself", expanded into: "God made the white man to be in charge, your job is to toil for "ol Massa".
After overt slavery was exchanged for more subtle forms such as wage slavery, it was still necessary to convince white people to work hard. While good wages and working conditions go a long way, GWF stuck to the same old theme. The mill towns funded a church and provided the best preacher money could buy. "God made Mr. Jones to be in charge and handle all the money, your job is to toil for Massa Jones". (Check out this scene in the movie, "Norma Rae") . One of our great american thinkers , Emerson, schooled at harvard divinity school, recognized this, read "Compensation" (available at your local library).
Wage slavery is alive and well in the 21st century. dd

2006-09-04T22:08:00.000-06:00

The Alberton Papers Vol.II, #13
By Dick Darne, Labor Day, 2006
"Without Unions, we’d all be going to work at seven" (years old, that is)
From a poster at the labor temple.
This Labor Day, as I sit in my house,(made possible by union wages) writing on my computer, (also from union wages), enjoying life, (made possible by my union pension) enjoying reasonably good health,( thanks to my union health care ) I can reflect on some things that we all tend to take for granted. It wasn’t too long ago when there was no such thing as "have a nice weekend".
What remained of a weekend, if anything, was needed to rest. Eight hour day, forget it. You worked ‘till the sun set. Had there been better lighting available, maybe all night. Public schools, thank organized labor. Retirement and healthcare, unions again. Not only did the unions improve their lot, but it improved the wages and conditions of those who did not belong. There are some out there who believe that everything they have is solely due to their hard work, good character and the benevolence of their employer. (Dream on Mr. Block.) Most of labor history is not taught in schools, but it is out there. We, of organized labor, have our flaws, sometimes we miss the big picture and yes, sometimes we fail to live up to our ideals, but I hope we can keep the dream alive. The one small part of the oath that I took and administered to many new members, that I remember well and recommend is: " Extend a helping hand to all branches of honorable toil". Let’s all do that. dd