This is my 2300th post (by the archive's count). In addition, I've posted stories on a regular basis at Colorado Confidential where I've been on the staff since its inception, and I've posted Diaries at Daily Kos. There have also been a few posts at Wash Park Poet. There have been a few cross-posts, but overall, I'm sure that there have been, at least, 2400 original blog posts at all places I write combined in the past two years. The second anniversary was actually July 3.
I slowed down my contributions to both this blog and Colorado Confidential in 2007, but both are alive and well and remain active projects for now.
I'm not sure precisely what focus will emerge and shift over time. At Colorado Confidential, I've pretty much narrowed down to a legal affairs beat. This blog is also narrower, although still eclectic. Many good stories I simply haven't gotten around to doing properly, like the emerging issue of Granny Flat zoning (a good idea). Other shifts reflect changing interests. Tomorrow is a new year for this blog and we'll see where it takes us.
04 July 2007
Padilla Weirdness
The jury in Jose Padilla's criminal case is starting to act like the jury in Grisham's Runaway Jury.
Party in the Park
Washington Park is a place to be in Denver on the 4th of July. We didn’t do everything, omitting the ACLU’s Liberty Run, for example, but we did plenty.
The Washington Park East and Washington Park West neighborhood associations (along with a couple of other civic groups and area businesses) sponsored a brass quintet in the boathouse, a children’s bike parade and free ice cream and toys. Quintessential small town stuff not unlike what Oxford, Ohio, where I grew up, did this year, but in a big city.
The Denver Municipal Band’s performance in the park was also a treat. The band itself, which dates from 1891, is older than all but a couple of the pieces it performed, and was formed close in time to the time that Washington Park was laid out. I left the performance with two big impressions.
First, I was struck by Semper Fidelis, Sousa’s contributions to the Marines. It is so jolly. Here is a piece composed for people in the business of getting on ships and fighting foreign wars, but it makes it out as if life in the Marines was like a day at the circus.
The second striking point, not surprisingly military, because most brass band music has military connections (even Glen Miller’s “In the Mood” was an anthem played at military bases all through World War II), was when the band played its “Armed Forces Salute”, during which audience members who are veterans stood when the anthem for their service was played. Many stood, but the vast majority were in my father’s generation, where military service was nearly universal, not mine, where it is the exception, especially for the middle class.
We concluded the day by watching the Denver Country Club’s fire works, the second round we’d seen this year after those in Glendale, Colorado. Both rivaled the only game in town when I was growing up. Of course, then, the skies opened and we were soaked. In any other state, that would be a day ruining conclusion. Here, in arid Colorado, rain is almost as much of a spectacle as the fireworks.
The Washington Park East and Washington Park West neighborhood associations (along with a couple of other civic groups and area businesses) sponsored a brass quintet in the boathouse, a children’s bike parade and free ice cream and toys. Quintessential small town stuff not unlike what Oxford, Ohio, where I grew up, did this year, but in a big city.
The Denver Municipal Band’s performance in the park was also a treat. The band itself, which dates from 1891, is older than all but a couple of the pieces it performed, and was formed close in time to the time that Washington Park was laid out. I left the performance with two big impressions.
First, I was struck by Semper Fidelis, Sousa’s contributions to the Marines. It is so jolly. Here is a piece composed for people in the business of getting on ships and fighting foreign wars, but it makes it out as if life in the Marines was like a day at the circus.
The second striking point, not surprisingly military, because most brass band music has military connections (even Glen Miller’s “In the Mood” was an anthem played at military bases all through World War II), was when the band played its “Armed Forces Salute”, during which audience members who are veterans stood when the anthem for their service was played. Many stood, but the vast majority were in my father’s generation, where military service was nearly universal, not mine, where it is the exception, especially for the middle class.
We concluded the day by watching the Denver Country Club’s fire works, the second round we’d seen this year after those in Glendale, Colorado. Both rivaled the only game in town when I was growing up. Of course, then, the skies opened and we were soaked. In any other state, that would be a day ruining conclusion. Here, in arid Colorado, rain is almost as much of a spectacle as the fireworks.
Pick's Disease
Until today, when I learned that I lost a cousin to Pick's disease, I didn't know that it existed, even though it has been known to medical science for 115 years. What is it?
Like a most rare diseases and most diseases involving mental health, the causes of the disease are not well known, even though the mechanism is understood.
Pick's Disease is a progressively degenerative neurological disease similar to Alzheimer's Disease for which there is no known prevention, or cure. Pick's Disease affects the frontal and temporal lobes first, with earliest symptoms showing up as changes in personality and a decline in function at home as well as work. Pick's Disease is frequently first diagnosed as stress or depression and then as Alzheimer's disease. The treatment of Pick's disease is the same as for various stages of other dementias such as Alzheimer's. This accounts for so little information being available related specifically to the treatment of Pick's Disease. . . .
In contrast to Alzheimer's disease, in which early memory loss predominates, the first symptoms of Pick's disease are often personality change, and a decline in function at work and home. Personality change may take the form of apathy and indifference toward customary interests, or of disregard for social decorum and for the feelings of others. Poor social judgement, inappropriate sexual advances, or a coarse and jocular demeanor may be seen. Function declines because the patient simply does very little, or displays confusion and poor judgement. Patients may not be highly forgetful. Often times the patient performs well when directed to do something, but cannot undertake the very same thing independently. What is lost is the ability to initiate, organize, and follow through on even very simple plans and familiar activities.
As the illness advances, difficulties with language become common. Patients become unusually quiet, and when they do speak it may be slowly, in brief sentences. They may labor to make the sounds of words and their speech may sound distorted. Some become extremely apathetic -- they may sit for hours doing nothing at all unless prompted to do so by another, while others become extraordinarily restless, and may pace unceasingly. Some patients are hypersexual, and some, like a small child, may place anything they pick up in their mouths. Gluttonous eating occurs in some cases. Attention span is poor; patients seem to be distracted instantly by anything that they hear or see. Later in the disease, patients usually become mute. Restlessness gives way to profound apathy and the patient may not respond at all to the surrounding world. Eventually, they enter a terminal vegetative state.
Pick's disease usually begins after age 40 and is less common after age 60. It is a disease that invariably worsens. The average course is about 5 years, but it ranges from 2-15 years. It is rare, accounting for between 1% and 5% of dementia.
Like a most rare diseases and most diseases involving mental health, the causes of the disease are not well known, even though the mechanism is understood.
Taxation Without Representation
When we declared independence one of the big issues was "imposing Taxes on us without our Consent", yet we are no better to the residents of the District of Columbia now. (Puerto Rico has a deal that largely frees it of federal taxation).
We also tax the young, non-citizens, and others with no say in their taxation.
We also tax the young, non-citizens, and others with no say in their taxation.
More Bad News For Motown
June car sales numbers are in. The news is strong growth for Toyota (more than 10%), Honda (more than 11%) and Nissan (more than 22%), while declines for General Motors (more than 21%), Ford (more than 8%), and Chrysler (a little more than 1%). Even in core American car sales areas like pickup trucks, Toyota is surging, while American cars are in trouble. The American automobile industry is in a tailspin and management at the Big 3 seems powerless to do anything about it.
Don't blame disloyal consumers. For all the discounting that American automobile companies are doing their products are still inferior. End of story. Full stop. Build better cars and market share will rush back. But, they can't seem to do it.
Don't blame disloyal consumers. For all the discounting that American automobile companies are doing their products are still inferior. End of story. Full stop. Build better cars and market share will rush back. But, they can't seem to do it.
Independence Day
The 4th of July has arrived once again. It is the premier patriotic holiday. Our flag is flying, as concerned as we are that the nation is headed in the wrong direction.
Tomorrow is the second anniversary of this blog. After two years, I will have made almost 2300 posts, many of them, not so short.
Have a good BBQ and a beer, enjoy the fireworks, relax, and appreciate how lucky we are to be in a country that mostly works and has for a long time.
Tomorrow is the second anniversary of this blog. After two years, I will have made almost 2300 posts, many of them, not so short.
Have a good BBQ and a beer, enjoy the fireworks, relax, and appreciate how lucky we are to be in a country that mostly works and has for a long time.
Purging The Junk
Life gets busy. Stuff collects. And, in a neighborhood where real estate is worth $300 a square foot, simply letting junk eat up your floor space isn't an ideal proposition either. So, from time to time, one has to purge the junk. In the past couple of weeks, faced with an accumulation so great we needed the help of a family friend to pierce through it, we've dug out and done it.
The collected donation bags are enough to fill our car. Our contribution to the dumpster has been comparable. Out go the infant bath toys and less popular infant level books that our elementary school children no longer play with (my eldest is now reading Charlotte's Web). Out go the clothes that no longer fit -- like my 13 year old tuxedo, which I'd have to lose a fifth of my body weight to wear again. Winter clothes have been banished to storage for the season. Books we rarely read have been reassigned to my study from bedrooms and living rooms. I finally admitted to myself that I was never going to use the dated 100 volume legal encyclopedia neatly arranged on shelves on my garage and rid myself of them. The children conceded some of their broken outdoor toys. A broken DVD player became fodder for young inventors at camp. We finally decided that our entry rug was no longer capable of being cleaned adequately. The many years of maintenance receipts that once filled my glove compartment have been relocated to a file in a file cabinet in my study. The emerging jungle of weeds in the backyard has been eradicated once again,
We've not only thrown out junk, but also looked at the patterns in our lives that have caused it to accumulate. As children get older, we need to be conscious of what no longer matters to them, as well as what they need now. We haven't set aside enough time for slightly bigger household projects. We don't have a regular process to evaluate which of our kitchen implements, clothes, books, toys and other possessions we still need. We don't have places for everything. We don't have agreed legitimate locations to do certain activities. We don't even have a settled place to charge our cell phones. We aren't always aware of what we already have in storage when we buy new things.
The process is not over. Is it ever? The more substantial infant items, a crib, strollers, a high chair, need to be sold. It will probably take me several more serious rounds of effort before I can muster the gumption to dispose of the better share of my dozens of bankers boxes and file drawers full of marginal files that I probably no longer need to keep -- my more interesting law school class notes, out of date financial records, and boxes of newspaper clippings that would have made good blog posts had the medium been invented then. Even some of my collected books can probably be culled for the collective good of a library sale. I loved reading the full set of Kate Elliot's seven volume fantasy series in hard back (and needed to the books to refer back to while I was reading it); but I honestly can't claim that I will ever read that saga again.
But, if you meaningfully participate in the process of removing the unnecessary things from your life, it is cleansing. There is more room and less clutter at home and in the car. A random grab into a dresser drawer is now more likely to produce something appropriate to wear that actually fits. Rearranged furniture has provided us with fresh perspectives, and a reassignment of the children's places to sit at the dining room table has made a dent in dinner time fighting.
More deeply, junk purging has focused our attention on how we parent. Must we concede the entire house to the children as a fragile free zone, or can we meaningfully expect them to refrain from engaging in activities that are prone to breaking things now? Is the cost of imposing the rule worth the benefits of forcing the children to put away one project before they start another? Can we expect our children to be good at cleaning up until we establish a place for them to put each item? How are we going to establish better routines to get homework done next year, when there is more of it, than we did last year? Where can we keep library books, so that we won't lose them? If we want them to keep food out of their bedrooms, do we need to make appropriate snacks easier for them to get at in the kitchen themselves, or harder?
Spring is a lousy time for spring cleaning. Everyone is busy. Parties abound. Uncertain weather makes it hard to put clothes in storage. It is too nice outside to waste the day indoors straightening up and cleaning. And, school projects which will soon come to an end have to remain front and center.
In modern Colorado, the time for spring cleaning is the summer. The winter clothes are definitely out of season. Parties grow infrequent as vacationers make them hard to schedule. The children have time on their hands, and even the pace at the office seems to slow. Last year's school things can be put away. On the hot, languid days, nothing is a rush, so there is time to contemplate arrangements that will work. Casual summer clothing is perfect for cleaning in. And, the swamp cooler keeps indoors a more attractive place than outdoors. The start of the year is an arbitrary thing which different cultures have assigned to different times. Once, in the West, it began in the spring. Now, we follow commercial culture and start after the Christmas rush in January. But, for my druthers, the Jewish calendar, which starts the year in the early autumn, almost in tune with the academic calendar, has it right.
The collected donation bags are enough to fill our car. Our contribution to the dumpster has been comparable. Out go the infant bath toys and less popular infant level books that our elementary school children no longer play with (my eldest is now reading Charlotte's Web). Out go the clothes that no longer fit -- like my 13 year old tuxedo, which I'd have to lose a fifth of my body weight to wear again. Winter clothes have been banished to storage for the season. Books we rarely read have been reassigned to my study from bedrooms and living rooms. I finally admitted to myself that I was never going to use the dated 100 volume legal encyclopedia neatly arranged on shelves on my garage and rid myself of them. The children conceded some of their broken outdoor toys. A broken DVD player became fodder for young inventors at camp. We finally decided that our entry rug was no longer capable of being cleaned adequately. The many years of maintenance receipts that once filled my glove compartment have been relocated to a file in a file cabinet in my study. The emerging jungle of weeds in the backyard has been eradicated once again,
We've not only thrown out junk, but also looked at the patterns in our lives that have caused it to accumulate. As children get older, we need to be conscious of what no longer matters to them, as well as what they need now. We haven't set aside enough time for slightly bigger household projects. We don't have a regular process to evaluate which of our kitchen implements, clothes, books, toys and other possessions we still need. We don't have places for everything. We don't have agreed legitimate locations to do certain activities. We don't even have a settled place to charge our cell phones. We aren't always aware of what we already have in storage when we buy new things.
The process is not over. Is it ever? The more substantial infant items, a crib, strollers, a high chair, need to be sold. It will probably take me several more serious rounds of effort before I can muster the gumption to dispose of the better share of my dozens of bankers boxes and file drawers full of marginal files that I probably no longer need to keep -- my more interesting law school class notes, out of date financial records, and boxes of newspaper clippings that would have made good blog posts had the medium been invented then. Even some of my collected books can probably be culled for the collective good of a library sale. I loved reading the full set of Kate Elliot's seven volume fantasy series in hard back (and needed to the books to refer back to while I was reading it); but I honestly can't claim that I will ever read that saga again.
But, if you meaningfully participate in the process of removing the unnecessary things from your life, it is cleansing. There is more room and less clutter at home and in the car. A random grab into a dresser drawer is now more likely to produce something appropriate to wear that actually fits. Rearranged furniture has provided us with fresh perspectives, and a reassignment of the children's places to sit at the dining room table has made a dent in dinner time fighting.
More deeply, junk purging has focused our attention on how we parent. Must we concede the entire house to the children as a fragile free zone, or can we meaningfully expect them to refrain from engaging in activities that are prone to breaking things now? Is the cost of imposing the rule worth the benefits of forcing the children to put away one project before they start another? Can we expect our children to be good at cleaning up until we establish a place for them to put each item? How are we going to establish better routines to get homework done next year, when there is more of it, than we did last year? Where can we keep library books, so that we won't lose them? If we want them to keep food out of their bedrooms, do we need to make appropriate snacks easier for them to get at in the kitchen themselves, or harder?
Spring is a lousy time for spring cleaning. Everyone is busy. Parties abound. Uncertain weather makes it hard to put clothes in storage. It is too nice outside to waste the day indoors straightening up and cleaning. And, school projects which will soon come to an end have to remain front and center.
In modern Colorado, the time for spring cleaning is the summer. The winter clothes are definitely out of season. Parties grow infrequent as vacationers make them hard to schedule. The children have time on their hands, and even the pace at the office seems to slow. Last year's school things can be put away. On the hot, languid days, nothing is a rush, so there is time to contemplate arrangements that will work. Casual summer clothing is perfect for cleaning in. And, the swamp cooler keeps indoors a more attractive place than outdoors. The start of the year is an arbitrary thing which different cultures have assigned to different times. Once, in the West, it began in the spring. Now, we follow commercial culture and start after the Christmas rush in January. But, for my druthers, the Jewish calendar, which starts the year in the early autumn, almost in tune with the academic calendar, has it right.
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