Roger O Green

This week in Obama political scandal

It’s the attempt by the federal government to make legal acts, or marginally illegal acts, literally a federal case.

President Obama is currently embroiled in three situations labeled as political scandal. The IRS scandal is the most problematic in that it involves a highly disliked arm of government that affects almost everyone’s lives. But I agree that the REAL scandal in the IRS issue is that there are lots of political groups on both ends of the political spectrum getting tax-exempt status, when that designation should be limited to more cultural/civic issues. Since the Citizens United ruling by the Supreme Court in 2010, there have been far more organizations of every political stripe trying to influence elections, sometimes illegally. Also, the richer applicants fell under lesser scrutiny, a real class distinction. The President has shown public indignation over this particular issue, but he may be missing the bigger picture.

The notion that the Benghazi story is bigger than Watergate and Iran contra combined suggests that the “silly season” has already begun, Bob Woodward’s assertion notwithstanding. If there are altered documents, it may be Republicans feeding them to the mainstream media. At the end of the day, the real story on the government side will be that the US was ill-prepared for an attack in a hot spot, on a significant day (9/11 in 2012) despite warnings within the Administration, that no help was available to those who died there; that’s the scandal. The “talking points” of who said what, and when? An issue will be made of this, but it seems like usual interagency jockeying, rather than malicious intent to me.

I’m much more concerned by the unethical seizure of phone records of Associated Press journalists in connection to media leaks; it’s not just that First Amendment “freedom of speech” thing; it’s a Fourth Amendment “unreasonable search and seizure” thing, which has the effect of stifling whistleblowers. It’s the attempt to make legal acts, or marginally illegal acts, literally a federal case. One saw this in the Aaron Schwartz case, huge governmental overreach. The story of the octogenarian nun in federal prison for protesting may tick you off as it did me.

The President, as noted, seems to be worked up over one of these issues, but is more defensive about the other two. I would wish he’d get more excited about trampling people’s constitutional rights, but that does not appear to be in the cards. I find his behavior disappointing, to say the least.

Still, when the I word gets thrown around, I agree with this assessment: “it would take about fifty of each of the three to collectively equal Watergate, let alone the impeachment and incarceration we should have had over Iraq.”

As Illya Kuryakin, the baby sister

I was the debonair Solo, while Marcia emulated the clever Kuryakin.

As I perused the pictures my baby sister Marcia sent me this spring via Facebook, I noted only one of just her and me. That’s not that surprising; I have not a lot of memories of things she and I did alone together. There were many things the THREE of us did together: Leslie, 16 months younger, and Marcia, five years my junior. Also, Leslie and I sang together, and Leslie and Marcia shared a room.

Still, there was one thing Marcia and I did together that was just ours, without Leslie or my parents: we played spies, based on the 1964-1968 NBC-TV series The Man from U.N.C.L.E.; the acronym stood for the United Network Command for Law Enforcement. The two prime agents were Napoleon Solo, played on the series by Robert Vaughan, and Illya Kuryakin, played by David McCallum (who now plays Ducky on the TV series NCIS). It was one of those spy shows undoubtedly influenced by the success of the James Bond films, complete with an array of gadgets.

When we played, I was the debonair Solo, while Marcia emulated the clever Kuryakin, busy fighting evil in the form of a group called THRUSH. I don’t remember storylines, but I do recall vaulting off the side porch of our house to capture the imaginary bad guys, with “Illya” on the stairs right behind me.

Happy birthday, Marcia; thanks again for all those photos. (Can’t call her little sister; she’s taller than I am!)

Casinos and power stations

The Seneca Niagara Casino, though, did have one interesting aspect; the sign for the upcoming music performers there.

RIGHT across the street from the Sheraton Inn where I stayed in Niagara Falls, NY late last month is this massive Seneca Niagara Casino. I assumed it’s run by the tribe, but I don’t have enough intellectual curiosity to find out. I just don’t enjoy being in them.

My late father, by contrast, LOVED the casinos; I went with him at least once in California. I got stuck waiting for a co-worker to lose $150 at Turning Stone, between Syracuse and Utica, NY.

Back in 1998, there was no casino on the US side of Niagara Falls, so one had to go to the Ontario, Canada side to play. Since there was little else to do, I went along. I was winning on a particular slot machine and did not like the feeling AT ALL, so switched machines so I could lose and be done with it. Why wouldn’t I want to win? Because I have an addictive personality, and it could have become a problem.

It’s also that casinos quite literally give me a headache. They’re noisy, somewhat dark, with no clocks, no windows to give you the sense of the time of day. Some even allow cigarette smoking, which is not good for me.

Whereas, on our walk to the Canadian side of the Falls this year, I was excited to discover the Toronto Power Generating Station, which is now a National Historic Site of Canada. From the Wikipedia: “Completed in 1906 in the Beaux-Arts-style, the station was designed by architect E. J. Lennox… The plant ceased operations on February 15, 1974.” Coming across it, without even knowing it was there, was a real find. It reminds me of a scaled-back gilded-age mansion. For a power plant? How oddly interesting.

The Seneca Niagara Casino, though, did have one interesting aspect; the sign for the upcoming music performers there.

Temptations/Four Tops, May 11 – the type of performers I’d expect; there’s only one original Temptation, and how can the Tops be the Tops without Levi Stubbs?
Bobby Vinton, May 25 – always associated him with that not-so-great music from that period between 1959 and the 1963 March on Washington.
Go-Go’s, June 15 – I didn’t know they were still together, or together again. I saw them live over 30 years ago at JB Scott’s in Albany; check out the Coverville tribute to them
Jackson Browne, June 29 – Jackson Browne? Why do I find this oddly disappointing, somehow?

This image, originally posted to Flickr, was reviewed on July 13, 2010, by the administrator or reviewer File Upload Bot (Magnus Manske), who confirmed that it was available on Flickr under his file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license on that date.

The annoying DISCOVERy

Why, if someone else had my card, did she make only that one purchase?

As I have noted, I love using my DISCOVER card. It was the first bank credit card I ever owned, back in 1986. I had a few store cards, notably Sears, before that; in fact, Sears and DISCOVER were once linked financially, but I don’t believe that’s still the case.

DISCOVER is cool. They send me an e-mail saying: you want 5% cashback on this category of purchases for the next three months? Sure! They make it easy, whereas some credit card companies put you through hoops in order to get rewards. When I go to Amazon.com, usually for gifts, I often use the DISCOVER cashback feature, which can be posted automatically.

I went to Radio Shack to make a purchase on January 17 of just under $20, and of course, used my DISCOVER card. My notification to pay my bill came in late February, due on March 10, and it seemed high, but I didn’t actually look at it until the week it was due.

Included was a charge of $163.04 for Radio Shack on January 28. I didn’t remember going there a second time, so I called the store. I was told that among the purchases was a BluTooth; since I’ve NEVER owned a BluTooth, I KNEW instantly these weren’t my items.

Here’s the weird thing, though: BOTH Radio Shack purchases were allegedly made by a woman named… let’s call her Toodles. Now I DID make the January 17 purchase; I remember climbing over a snowbank to get to Westgate shopping center.

The other thing is that the purchaser had the card. Because I have been a customer so long, I have this 25th-anniversary card, as well as the regular one. I must have used the anniversary card there, then the regular card with my subsequent purchases. Bad form on my part.

So I call DISCOVER, explain this all a couple of times. The guy in the fraud unit is as puzzled as I that the $20 purchase that I acknowledge making is attributed to Toodles.

One of the things I was required to do was make a police report, so when I got home, I called the non-emergency number, and two policemen came over to my house. I gave them the information, and I could tell they were a bit suspicious of ME. Why, if, in fact, Toodles had had my card, did she make only that one purchase? I couldn’t answer that, of course. Guilt? Fear of getting caught? How the heck do I know?

I was without my DISCOVER card for less than a week, from March 6 to March 11, when the replacement cards arrived in the mail.

That previous card I had so long actually had memorized the sixteen digits. I’ll miss you, old DISCOVER card number. Yikes, I had to contact the cable company, because the autopay went on my old DISCOVER card…

13 years of wedded bliss out of 14 ain’t bad

It was HER making room in HER house for MY stuff; it wasn’t ours.

I was flicking through the TV channels a couple of weeks ago and discovered there’s some new reality show about newlyweds that’s going to be airing soon. Couldn’t tell you the name of it – and truth to tell, wouldn’t bother to look it up – but the clips were full of Sturm und Drang because doesn’t that sound entertaining?

The running joke The Wife and I have is that we’ve been happily married 13 years; we’ve been wed 14 . The skill of fading memory makes that first 12 months not feel THAT bad. We didn’t argue as such. Still, it had its stresses, and most of it involved space.

I had been living in an apartment before we got married. Meanwhile, she had purchased a two-family dwelling in the early 1990s, and she was living on the first floor. When we got hitched, the task was to move all of our stuff into that half of the house.

First, we got rid of my microwave and much of my furniture for space consideration. The microwave was large and older, so she was worried about radiation or the like; interestingly, we donated it to soon to be former church. We didn’t replace it with a smaller model because she didn’t think we’d need it, and there was no counter space anyway. (I’d only been using mine almost every day.) I had purchased a nifty chair only a couple of years earlier – real furniture I bought, rather than bachelor make-do – and I was sad to get rid of it, though I did give it to a friend who could use it.

The furniture of mine we did keep was squeezed in here and there. My wife and mother-in-law were watching one of those HGTV home renovation guys. I happened to be in the room at the time. He suggested building “up, up!” So we had one dressing on top of another. It looked goofy to me, and I wondered if the floor could bear the weight. Other things were boxed up, inaccessible.

One of the surprisingly sage things our then-minister said in premarital counseling was that we ought to get a place of our own. I tended to agree, even before the fact, but she didn’t understand. She was making room in her closet for my clothes, wasn’t she? That was the point; it was HER making room in HER house for MY stuff; it wasn’t ours.

This is why, in the fall of 1999, we started house hunting, and actually moved into our current dwelling in May 2000, shortly before our first anniversary. The new house has its own series of problems – it’s over 100 years old – but claustrophobia at least isn’t one of them.

More to the point, it’s OUR house, and that has made all the difference in the world. There are ancillary stories about popcorn, and Scotland I’ll tell, but only if you ask.

Happy 14th anniversary to my honey.