Here’s a story from the NY Times that some of us heard on NPR the other day:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/12/us/12grannies.html?ex=1307764800&en=d6c46c91d2d872bc&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss

It’s about two elderly women who are accused of befriending homeless men, insuring their lives and, after waiting two years, killing them in hit-and-run “accidents”.  They collected some $2.2 million, but not all the insurance companies paid and got the police involved.  Right now, they are only charged with fraud in the insurance applications because there was some hanky panky about their insurable interest since they applied as “aunt” or “fiancee” and misrepresented the men’s income, etc.

http://www.commondreams.org/views06/0601-34.htm
this is the Rolling Stone story that details how the 2004 presidential election was stolen from Kerry by Republicans.  Not bought.  Not gerrymandered.  Rigged.  Stolen.  No swift boat required to slog through this swamp. 

It’s infuriating. 

And the tally is now official:

Minivan lost in a landslide to my daughter’s suggestion to get a “silver” car to match my silver hair.

I’ll be driving a 2005 Chrysler Sebring Touring convertible with all the bells and whistles.

And I mean ALL the bells and whistles: A button you push to put up or bring down the top automatically (includes auto lowering of the windows); 6 CD changer and modified speakers; auto transmission, power steering and brakes; remote keyless entry and theft alarm; leather interior with cloth inserts; temp guage and compass.  I asked if it gave blow jobs on demand and they said that was a self-install feature not available at dealerships.

However, I was anally assaulted by the finance guys — staying home won’t be a problem with the car payments I’ll have until sometime after my death in 2012.  No kiss, either.

Four people can sit in the car comfortably — how odd! — and no one in the world has smoked a cigaret in its interior.  No “new car” smell, however.

VERY different to drive.  It’s not nearly as peppy as the Miata, nor as road hugging and the ABS antilock brakes just about throw me through the front windshield.  It gets OK gas mileage at 28 on the highway and 22 in town.

I have both factory warranty and extended warranty for the next 43,000 and then another 60,000 — it has about 18,000 miles on it at present.

“Certified Pre-Owned” means something, but who really knows?

If you see me, ask about how my driver’s license figures into my day today.

I feel like I’ve been run over by a Cadillac.

I have been run over by a Cadillac.

I’m not so stiff and sore that I want to take another Loratab — the hydrocodone just made me feel loopy and confused and nauseous the next day.

Ibuprophen seems to do a better job for me with less side effects.

I do feel stiff and sore.  About like a night on the ground camping or falling asleep on the couch in front of the television.

One of the most irritating aftereffects of the car wreck physically is the place where the EMSA tech put in an IV on my right wrist.  Hurts to the touch 48 hours later.

It’s official that the insurance company is calling my car a total loss and I’ll have to go today to get my stuff out of the Miata, get my title to sign over, get my payoff balance on my car loan, get my check for the next disaster.

Despite speculation elsewhere (on MCARP’s 3:40 a.m., link at right), I still have no clue about what kind of vehicle I’ll get next.  Anyone fancy a trip through the strip of car dealerships on Broadway Extension or down in Norman on the “magnificant mile of cars”?

I tried looking for a replacement online, but kept being distracted by new Miatas and Toyota Spyders and Plymouth Solaris — you get the drift.  It’s hard to say goodbye to the convertible life.

Being without transportation, it wasn’t hard spending the night at home last night, but I haven’t quite conquered the trick of getting away from the laptop and into the kitchen to do the remodeling.  Part of that is that my air conditioning has been going out and the repair guy has been here twice this week to fix a unit that’s only a year old.

It’s not cool when there’s no cooling at my house.

And, even with the warranty break, the bill for the serviceman’s work adds up.

Not being able to get to work also means that I’m not making any money while I’m spending every day.

I also think something happened to my cellphone in the wreck.  The outside display won’t work when there’s an incoming call, so I don’t have caller ID before answering.

Nevermind.  I missed about a dozen “how are you?” calls yesterday just being asleep and out of it. 

Oh well, better get to slogging through my terrible “filing” system (I throw things into a drawer) to see if I can come up with the car title.

ttfn

Many of you know that I was in a car wreck Wednesday about 5:30 p.m. at the intersection of NW 26th and Walker.  A yellow Caddilac ran a stop sign and I broadsided him in the Miata.  He left the scene of the accident.

I did, too. By EMSA ambulance. 

I’m all right, CAT scanned and X-rayed.

They released me from the ER at St. Anthony’s about 8:30 p.m. with a Loritab script and a sore shoulder.

The police were nice.  The wrecker driver was nice.  The EMSA techs were funny and nice.  The doctors, nurses, technicians and aides were all helpful and very nice.

I thank them all.  I’m also grateful not to be badly hurt or disfigured or anything like that.

I’m especially grateful to my Mom who was there for me first and foremost.

I’m such a lucky man to have such good friends.

Suz, MCARP, Rena and Kat all came to the hospital to check on me and KellyO and many others kept up with me by telephone.  Amanda Joy was on the scene of the accident and was every kind of supportive and concerned.  Thanks.

I must make special mention of Veronique Mist.  She nursed and nurtured me last night and this morning, waking me to make sure that I didn’t have a concussion or a reaction to the medications.  She’s towed me around from place to place and been as helpful as one could dream.  She’s a good friend and good counsel.  She made me laugh and, most important, laugh at myself and my “plight”.  She gets an A+ in handholding and bedside manner.  She’s been a blessing in my life and “thanks” doesn’t seem like enough, even though she won’t accept more.  VM, you da shit, grrrl.

That out of the way, I’m saying goodbye to the Miata.

I asked MCARP to tell me some good Bhuddist stuff about letting go of material things and today he posts about his sense of loss over an old Volvo.  Perverse s.o.b.

Fine.

I’m still saying goodbye and farewell to the little blue ragtop.

And, I’ve been heading that way for awhile and I think it’s also goodbye to my batchelor days.

I’ve tried marriage, serial monogamy and polygamy.  I wasn’t exactly a “failure” at any of it, at least from some perspectives, but I wasn’t much good at any of the three from other perspectives.

Lately, it’s been wonderful but too chaotic for a recovering alcoholic.  I require more serenity in my life than I get going out as much as I have been and having my life entwined with as many romantic and sexual relationships.

It’s a good time to get out of the lifestyle I adopted for the past few years.  I’ve been as big a winner as I can expect in the sense that most of the women in my life are still friends despite the fact that our relationship ended either well or badly or never really got fired up.  The men in my life are not the subject of any resentment or hatred by me and I know of no active male enemies.  I’m in a good place in my relationships and no one will be hurt by this decision of mine to take more conservative measures. 

I’ve loved several women and still love them.  Love is forever, even if the relationship is over for me.  I couldn’t say which one is most or best because each of those feelings was different — like comparing a comedy to a drama.

I’ve had my share of fun.  Lots of live music and dancing and eating al fresco.  A great many art shows and galleries and museums.  I’ve been grateful that I could stay sober and enjoy so much of the finest in life that Oklahoma City offers.

I don’t in any way mean to have you think I’m putting a gun in my mouth or anything like that.  I’m very optimistic.  I’ll still go out and see movies and art shows and live music and I’ll still find women attractive and easy to be around.  I may even fall in love again.

But, the convertible, frenetic paced hunger for stimulation is over for me.

For the first half of the year, I’ve been working toward dialing back relationships and some of my social activities.  This is a good place to make a clean break.

Next month, I’ll be 57.  Closer to 60 and three times the age of the 20 year olds who live naturally the way I’ve been living for a while now.

I need to look to the future and pay attention to my profession with the same passion that I’ve had pursuing pleasures.

It’s past time for me to put my kitchen remodel ahead of Monday and Tuesday night live music.

Flip’s, bin 73 and Rococo will have to soldier on without me on Thursday nights while I write and paint.

Instead of Sunday brunch out by the lake, it will be landscaping the back yard for me.

Eating more healthy at home and getting exercise will fit in my future plans better than canapes and nightclubbing.

Some of this will be necessary as a direct result of the hit my finances are taking with the wreck and the doctor bills and trying to get a new vehicle.

That car was due an expensive timing belt change at 90,000 miles — 3,000 miles ago.  It wasn’t good for long distance driving and my clients had trouble getting in and out when we went to court together.

I couldn’t go to the grocery and buy a month’s worth of stuff at Sam’s in the Miata.

I’ll search for serenity in the balcony at Mayflower Church instead of elusive ecstacy in the fleshpots of Oklahoma City’s Western Ave. corridor.

Goodbye Miata.

It was fun while it lasted.

I’ll always love you and always remember you fondly.

I endlessly chronicled your time with me.

I endlessly chronicled the life you brought me and took me to.

I have tremendous confidence that I will do well and prosper.

Fare thee well.

Dear John: As difficult a decision as it was to withdraw from this race, it is even more difficult to address you, my friend and supporter. As I said in my recent announcement, I have given this decision a great deal of thought and believe in my heart I have done what is best for everyone. My own sense of loyalty and responsibility to my current elected position is driving this decision. You have given your support to me because you care about Oklahoma and about our great nation, as do I. That is why I now ask one last favor and request you consider joining me in supporting Dr. David Hunter for the 5th Congressional District. I have met with David and find him to be an honest and hardworking individual. He has great ideas, and we share a lot of the same values. I do not hesitate in supporting him for this seat. I sincerely hope you understand and agree with my decision and know that I will be forever grateful to you for this experience. Your loyalty and dedication to this campaign has been remarkable and will never be forgotten. Sincerely, Patricia Presley

405/606-2220  |  presleyforcongress.com  |  contribute

Presley for Congress
PO Box 60332
Oklahoma City, OK 73146

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The Demo Okie website says my candidate for U.S. Congress, Patti Presley, is dropping out for a lack of money.  I don’t know what’s going on — I’ve been that absent — but I wouldn’t be surprised.  Pity.  Can’t really understand why the national party isn’t going after an open seat with no incumbent, even though Oklahoma is a REDREDRED state.

This will leave Dr. Hunter and Bert Smith on the Dem side.  A novice and a repeat loser.  We’ll get some right wingnut and exactly what we deserve, I expect.  I may still fight the good fight, knowing that there’s nothing but a massacre at the end.  Better to die on your feet than live on your knees.

Veronica Mist.  MMMMMMMM.  Creamy and good.

Saw Shy Oren and Issei Aoyama at G spot last night, very cool jazz.  They were joined by Carter Sampson for a rendition of “Stormy Weather” that knocked my socks off.  I must have heard a hundred versions of that, including the most famous one by Lena Horne, but I’ve never heard it done better.  Carter’s cover makes the song her own.  Wow.  Really good.  Really really good.  Bravo.

There were too many dogs mixed with too many Hispanics on the sidewalk during dinner and a dispute broke out while Danny and Kat played hacky sack nearby.

I’m still waiting on Ed and Mandy to get their place open down the Paseo and I haven’t yet tried Paseo Grill.  It’s Wednesday, so maybe the group can be moved that direction when we choose dinner venues tonight.

My date last night meant that I missed a dinner party up in Edmond.  Can’t wait to hear about that.

Dead Center film festival is this week and I saw Brian Hearn out with a film-type, huddling over drinks and talking earnestly about documentary film and other matters of moment.

I’ve spent several days essentially away from my desk for health checkups.  I’ve now been X-rayed and put on a treadmill and started a new cholesterol medicine regime along with daily exercise.  I push my luck and leap to conclusions until I raise a sweat.

Later this month, I’ll continue the health focus with a colonoscopy, a followup blood test and some other testing.  So far, it seems I’ll live far longer than I may want to.  Advancing to a ripe old age and living in a nursing home with my broken hip is not one of my life ambitions.  I’d rather die sooner and leave my kids more money than to give it all to the docs in a losing battle to keep me alive but miserable.

Yesterday, I went to a continuing education seminar down at OCCC and spent three hours listening to a guy from Missouri talk about gifts to charitable remainder trusts from IRAs and other retirement vehicles.  It’s so exciting to be a lawyer.  Oh, the sexy interplay between estate tax strategies and income tax requirements and the titillation of private letter rulings by the IRS.  It just makes the spine tingle, doesn’t it?

My sister, over on Mind Over Mary blogspot, says I talk too much about sex.  Fine.  I think most people talk too little about sex.  Yes, it’s private.  Yes, it’s intimate.  It’s nothing to ba ashamed about or guilty and if everyone’s a grownup, you might learn something from a little conversation about it.  I agree with her that the recounting of a specific experience with a specific person is ickky sometimes if not every time.  On the other hand, we should have no qualms about frankly discussing contraception, AIDS, STD scans, abortion, and the relative merits of many partners, few partners, and one partner lifestyles.  At 50 plus and divorced with grown children, the time to play virginal is over.  I also think that if you feel guilty and ashamed to say that you like something — threesomes, for a wild and extreme example — then you miss out on finding out that it’s something that a lot of people have tried with varying outcomes.  One thing I’ve discovered in discussing threesomes is that it’s better as a fantasy than a reality for almost everyone I’ve ever talked to.  It’s a good theory, but in practice there’s emotional overload and jealousy and other serious downsides. I think the same thing is true of other things.  Another example is men who look at internet porn.  It’s kind of like drinking.  Guys who do that think they hurt no one and it’s harmless.  No one talks about it.  In reality, internet porn is a nasty, exploitative blot on society that degrades women and exploits them.  It leads to men objectifying women and, ultimately, to bad and unsatisfying sex for those men.  It can be costly and addictive.  It also warps people’s idea of what is and isn’t sexy.  All of us get some really whack messages from the media and the internet about sex that comes off internet porn.  I think people should talk about internet porn and say out loud for everyone to hear that it’s not cool, it’s not sexy and it hurts all of us and society when we spend as a culture so many millions on fake and alienated sexual images for the purpose of mere self-involved, narcissistic masturbation.  The world is not as promiscuous as some people think, nor is it as prudish as others believe.  My biggest problem with both the keep your mouth shut side AND the internet porn side is that the reality check bounces from both extremes.  Sex has a place in our lives and an important place.  On the other hand, sex is not as important as friends, family, health and financial security.  Only by rational discussion of the topic does it get to be the “right” size, neither too big a focus or too small.

Back to politics briefly.  I heard and read a buncha stuff about last night’s elections in 8 states.  All the commentary I heard was utter bullshit.  No good conclusions can be drawn from such small amounts of information learned Tuesday night.  The general election is in November and that’s a long time in the political world.  Tom DeLay and the GOP have the election rigged in their favor by having the most money and by gerrymandering House districts to favor the Republicans.  Democrats will not win in November with 50% plus one.  For Dems to carry the House, they will need more like 55% and maybe even more than that.  Yes, it’s that much of a GOP built-in, under the radar advantage.  If you throw in the electronic voting machines provided by a company whose president is a Bush supporter who vowed to “do anything” to see Bush elected and produced machines that experts say were designed to be easily hacked, well… the election is rigged so that Dems would have to really go over the top to see much in the way of results.

 I hate the new art being shown at G Spot, did i mention that?

Gotta go to work.

ttfn 

This is a link to a piece of campaign literature by the Republican running for State Senate in my district in Oklahoma City:

http://www.tnr.com/graphics2004.1/theplank/jantz.jpg

I ask you: quite aside from my theological and spiritual differences with the thrust of the message, does this belong in the stream of political discourse?

I’m not really talking about separation of church and state.  I won’t go there with you.  I mean, do you think this is a good way to pick a political representative?  Is it even possible to believe, absent mental illness of some kind, that there exists a God who prefers one politician over another?  I find the very idea strange.

“Evil” is such a problematic and strong word, how does it get bandied about like that?  We aren’t really talking about cannibalistic Satanic rituals, are we?  I have at times played Devil’s Advocate and expressed my deep reservations about whether Evil, in the religious sense, exists, given a loving and all powerful God with a plan that never errs for the universe.  I cannot believe in Satan, for to me that would be to believe in more than one God and I find it difficult enough to stay certain that God exists and acts in my life. 

I believe in one God and I do not believe in one prophet.  I believe a great many humans, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, Bhudda, Lao Tsu among them, have been so wise and spiritual as to bring us articulation of spiritual truths.  To deify them is, in my opinion, unwise, as it is with Caesars and Pharohs.  I would not make gods of Newton, Freud, Einstein, Darwin or Marx and I do not make demons of Ted Bundy, Hitler, Pol Pot, Bush or Charles Manson  (couldn’t avoid the political there, it was just too rich).

With that as a baseline, you can guess the spiritual and theological rage I feel gorging when I read a postcard like the one I’ve linked.

I’ll put all that aside, though, and just try to think about this on another level.

There’s an obvious parallel, it seems to me, with this kind of fundamentalist pandering for political gain and the fundamentalist pandering for political gain we see in Iran, Iraq and the Gaza Strip.

Political theology has always in history led to war and misery and totalitarianism.  Always and invariably.  The English Civil War, the crusades, Mohammad’s conversion by the sword, you name it.

It is a type of political eliteism that’s no better and often worse than the oligarchy we have now and certainly worse than the liberal democracy we had between the robber barons of the 19th Century and the ones today. 

I’m back to that place I was as a child in the southern Baptist church being taught that there were billions of humans in the world going to hell because they had not been washed in the blood of the lamb.  Huh?  God does that?  Reluctantly, we’re sure, the Sunday School teachers would say.

OK.  But, do you think that’s true in Congress?  Do you think God’s concerns are so worldly as to go to the federal deficit and budget process?  If someone was a real Christian, they might remember that Jesus ran the money changers (bankers) out of the temple, mocked the Pharisees (lawyers) and told them to look at their money and “render unto Ceasar that which is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.”   He ordered Nicodemus, the tax collector, out of a tree and to walk and talk with him personally.  Hmmmm.  I don’t think God is talking to the president and I don’t think God cares about whether the government spends more or less on highways.

I think if God cares at all about the political process, He wonders why the hell Christians vote for so much military spending.

And the death penalty.

And why they don’t feed the sick, the aged and infirm and the hungry children.

I think those Christian politicians will be known in heaven for the way they treated “the least of these” here on Earth.

Wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass?

Do you really think that if I vote for a Democrat, it’ll be because God failed to put a hedge of thorns around me to protect me from evil? 

That seems a little bit of a difficult proposition to back up. 

What will this candidate think if he gets beat?  What will he say if he loses?  Will he believe the Devil beat Jesus in Oklahoma County, Oklahoma?  If he wins with a 49-51 majority, will he think half the people he represents are evil?

Saw two very good art shows yesterday on the Paseo.

Maybre Ormes’ work at the PAA offices/gallery was simply wonderful.  Her oils of OKC scenes knocked me out and the line drawings of musicians at UCO Jazz Lab were a treat.

I also enjoyed seeing her and a variety of others at Rococo for the afterparty.

Meanwhile, down at JRB, Brooks Towers’ mosiacs were wicked good.  I loved his insect study of a moth and a kitchen scene with a fossil for a through the window landscape.  He is quite simply the finest mosaicist I have ever seen.  Joy Reed does such a wonderful job with her gallery.

Spent some time with a few too many friends on Tall Ed’s boat at Lake Hefner, but at least now I know the damn thing exists.  We’ve had questions about that for a year now since he promised us boat times last June but couldn’t get it together.

Closed down the Copa last night and for my trouble found myself putting a passed out and (dammit) unmolested blonde to bed.  I haven’t been able to get my poo poo together all day today because my sleep schedule is all messed up.  I’m too old for that crap.

Grandkids left town for home this morning and I’m full of angst about that.  Bye bye beloveds!