No sooner had I finished writing my somewhat-critical overview of Arizona politics than I came across the headlines of the local Tucson paper: “Pima County wants to secede from state.” Pima County being Tucson and much of Southern Arizona, which is generally considered more liberal than Phoenix and the rest of the state.
I use the word “liberal” guardedly.
This is not something that will ever happen, but the effort is serious, with a number of local representatives and county officials saying they just can’t take it anymore. Actually, one said exactly that: “we can’t take it anymore.”
Politically, such a move is possible but in practical terms, it’s impossible. Still, it’s a good sign of sorts that significant numbers of people in Arizona agree with the rest of the country that Arizona has mostly lost its mind.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Arizona Loco
If you’ve been following the House Republican Follies since the Tea Party takeover, you might be forgiven for thinking that Washington has become the new rabid-bat-crazy center of the political universe, but you’d be wrong. With so much competition coming from the federal level, Arizona has decided to ramp up its claims to being not yet ready for democracy with a flood of new legislation, all of which is aimed at anything but its hopelessly out-of-balance budget. Arizona legislators have apparently decided if they ignore it, the budget deficit will go away—or maybe they could just bury it in the Grand Canyon—but in the meantime, there are a lot of issues more important than a silly operating budget, such as:
In light of its recent mass-murder tragedy, it’s time to do something about Arizona’s ultra-liberal gun laws; we need to make them even more liberal, so one proposal, for example, would allow students and faculty to carry concealed weapons on campus. I wish I could have carried a gun when I was a faculty member because it would have cut short a lot of student griping about grades.
And if Arizona students or faculty stop in for a drink after a tough day in the classroom, they can also take their guns into the bar with them, as long as they are not legally intoxicated. In which case I don’t know what. I wouldn’t want to be the bar tender who had to tell someone he was now legally intoxicated and had to turn over any guns he might be carrying. Here in Arizona that might be considered a completely unreasonable request. But could you call me a cab?
Also, Arizona will always resist federal efforts to curtail their gun rights, so they’ve passed a resolution not to comply with new ATF regulations that would require gun dealers to report purchase of more than two assault weapons in a given week. Lots of legitimate gun owners might want to purchase assault weapons for all their friends and family at Christmas. They make great stocking stuffers.
ATF is upset because thousands of assault weapons confiscated by Mexican authorities in their war on drug cartels turn out to have been sold in US border states, with some buyers making purchases in the hundreds. Arizona, with full support from the NRA, says it won’t comply because such reporting would be burdensome on gun dealers.
But what about illegal aliens? It’s been literally a couple of months since Arizona did something to crack down on illegals, so now a new law says that any illegal alien stopped for any traffic violation at all will serve one month in jail for illegally driving in Arizona. Also, they lose their car, confiscated and sold to help reduce the budget deficit. (See, I was wrong about the lack of concern over the budget deficit.) And only then do they get sent back to Mexico.
I assume all illegals are sent to Mexico, even if they’re from, say, Iceland. Let the Mexicans sort it out.
More on illegal aliens: schools are now responsible to check the legal status of suspicious students, such as students who speak Spanish or English with a Spanish accent or have skin darker than Jimmie Smits. Since the Supreme Court ruled in 1982 that schools cannot deny an education to any students based on citizenship, Arizona assures us that this law is only intended as record keeping. Although school administrators who don’t report suspicious students to Immigration are committing a crime. Maybe they could lose their car.
Speaking of varmints, a new law now allows Arizonans to shoot varmints at night within city limits, because, of course, most varmints only come out at night so you can’t shoot them during the day. Varmints include skunks, jack rabbits, coyotes and raccoons and the like, although since coyotes are the single-best population control for jack rabbits, it’s unclear if you can shoot a coyote while it’s actually eating another varmint. But safety is always the first concern, so you can’t shoot varmints within ¼ mile of a residence. Which strikes me as a little overly restrictive because most people bring their kids in before dark anyway, so if it’s moving around the neighborhood after dark, it’s probably a varmint.
How about those darn abortions? If a woman wants an abortion for reasons of genocide, the doctor must refuse or go to jail without collecting his two-hundred dollars. Genocide by abortion would include, for example, having an abortion because you don’t like your embryo’s race or gender. So doctors I guess would have to ask “What race would your baby be if it actually became a baby?” and then if the woman said maybe “Chinese,” the doctor would have to say “And how do you feel about that?” and if the woman gave the wrong answer the doctor would have to tell her she would have to have the baby after all and maybe try to adopt it out to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. But if she said she actually liked the Chinese, which is how she got pregnant in the first place, but still wanted the abortion, then that would be okay.
Speaking of babies, Arizona has repealed birth-right citizenship by declaring that babies born on American soil are no longer automatically American citizens, but only in Arizona I guess because the Constitution still confers birthright citizenship on anyone born on American soil, although lots of people don’t like that. Thus, you might be an American citizen in Texas, for example, but not in Arizona. Then, if you got caught speeding in Arizona, they could put you in jail and sell your car to lower the deficit and send you back to Mexico, even if you’re from Texas.
You can see how this would be a good deal for Arizona. But still, there are all these burdensome federal laws and regulations, so Arizona has now declared that it no longer has to abide by any federal dictates it finds to be unconstitutional. Is it just me, or does this amount to about ninety percent secession from the union?
Which brings me back to an idea I first expressed here some time ago, which is that states should be legally allowed to secede. At first I thought we could revisit the whole civil war thing, but now I can see it should be on a state-by-state basis. Where in the Constitution does is say you can’t decide you don’t want to be a state anymore? After two hundred years you still can't change your mind? This is like the worst ever cell phone plan. No one would stand for it.
Seriously, I think we’d all be better off if a few states like Arizona and Texas and Alaska could just drop out. Then all the tea partiers who don’t like it here any more could move to one of the new sovereign republics and the rest of us could get serious about everything else again.
Stupid idea? Let’s float it in the Arizona legislature.
In light of its recent mass-murder tragedy, it’s time to do something about Arizona’s ultra-liberal gun laws; we need to make them even more liberal, so one proposal, for example, would allow students and faculty to carry concealed weapons on campus. I wish I could have carried a gun when I was a faculty member because it would have cut short a lot of student griping about grades.
And if Arizona students or faculty stop in for a drink after a tough day in the classroom, they can also take their guns into the bar with them, as long as they are not legally intoxicated. In which case I don’t know what. I wouldn’t want to be the bar tender who had to tell someone he was now legally intoxicated and had to turn over any guns he might be carrying. Here in Arizona that might be considered a completely unreasonable request. But could you call me a cab?
Also, Arizona will always resist federal efforts to curtail their gun rights, so they’ve passed a resolution not to comply with new ATF regulations that would require gun dealers to report purchase of more than two assault weapons in a given week. Lots of legitimate gun owners might want to purchase assault weapons for all their friends and family at Christmas. They make great stocking stuffers.
ATF is upset because thousands of assault weapons confiscated by Mexican authorities in their war on drug cartels turn out to have been sold in US border states, with some buyers making purchases in the hundreds. Arizona, with full support from the NRA, says it won’t comply because such reporting would be burdensome on gun dealers.
But what about illegal aliens? It’s been literally a couple of months since Arizona did something to crack down on illegals, so now a new law says that any illegal alien stopped for any traffic violation at all will serve one month in jail for illegally driving in Arizona. Also, they lose their car, confiscated and sold to help reduce the budget deficit. (See, I was wrong about the lack of concern over the budget deficit.) And only then do they get sent back to Mexico.
I assume all illegals are sent to Mexico, even if they’re from, say, Iceland. Let the Mexicans sort it out.
More on illegal aliens: schools are now responsible to check the legal status of suspicious students, such as students who speak Spanish or English with a Spanish accent or have skin darker than Jimmie Smits. Since the Supreme Court ruled in 1982 that schools cannot deny an education to any students based on citizenship, Arizona assures us that this law is only intended as record keeping. Although school administrators who don’t report suspicious students to Immigration are committing a crime. Maybe they could lose their car.
Speaking of varmints, a new law now allows Arizonans to shoot varmints at night within city limits, because, of course, most varmints only come out at night so you can’t shoot them during the day. Varmints include skunks, jack rabbits, coyotes and raccoons and the like, although since coyotes are the single-best population control for jack rabbits, it’s unclear if you can shoot a coyote while it’s actually eating another varmint. But safety is always the first concern, so you can’t shoot varmints within ¼ mile of a residence. Which strikes me as a little overly restrictive because most people bring their kids in before dark anyway, so if it’s moving around the neighborhood after dark, it’s probably a varmint.
How about those darn abortions? If a woman wants an abortion for reasons of genocide, the doctor must refuse or go to jail without collecting his two-hundred dollars. Genocide by abortion would include, for example, having an abortion because you don’t like your embryo’s race or gender. So doctors I guess would have to ask “What race would your baby be if it actually became a baby?” and then if the woman said maybe “Chinese,” the doctor would have to say “And how do you feel about that?” and if the woman gave the wrong answer the doctor would have to tell her she would have to have the baby after all and maybe try to adopt it out to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. But if she said she actually liked the Chinese, which is how she got pregnant in the first place, but still wanted the abortion, then that would be okay.
Speaking of babies, Arizona has repealed birth-right citizenship by declaring that babies born on American soil are no longer automatically American citizens, but only in Arizona I guess because the Constitution still confers birthright citizenship on anyone born on American soil, although lots of people don’t like that. Thus, you might be an American citizen in Texas, for example, but not in Arizona. Then, if you got caught speeding in Arizona, they could put you in jail and sell your car to lower the deficit and send you back to Mexico, even if you’re from Texas.
You can see how this would be a good deal for Arizona. But still, there are all these burdensome federal laws and regulations, so Arizona has now declared that it no longer has to abide by any federal dictates it finds to be unconstitutional. Is it just me, or does this amount to about ninety percent secession from the union?
Which brings me back to an idea I first expressed here some time ago, which is that states should be legally allowed to secede. At first I thought we could revisit the whole civil war thing, but now I can see it should be on a state-by-state basis. Where in the Constitution does is say you can’t decide you don’t want to be a state anymore? After two hundred years you still can't change your mind? This is like the worst ever cell phone plan. No one would stand for it.
Seriously, I think we’d all be better off if a few states like Arizona and Texas and Alaska could just drop out. Then all the tea partiers who don’t like it here any more could move to one of the new sovereign republics and the rest of us could get serious about everything else again.
Stupid idea? Let’s float it in the Arizona legislature.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Tucson Blues
Friday night, I had my second opportunity to see and hear Wynton Marsalis and the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra in concert. I had high expectations and wasn’t disappointed.
Marsalis has won more awards, from Grammies to a Pulitzer Prize, than probably any other jazz musician living or dead, with the possible exception of Ellington. Opinion is divided among aficionados, though, about whether he warrants all the honors. I’ll just say that while he’s not my favorite musician, composer, or band leader, I’d never miss a chance to see him in a live performance. And the JLCO is comprised of fifteen of the finest musicians in jazz today, and together they put on a stunning performance of technical virtuosity and improvisational brilliance that leaves me dazzled and drained by the end of an evening.
The first time I saw them about two years ago, they performed a mix of jazz standards and a few compositions by different band members, but Friday night they only performed eight movements of Marsalis’ twelve-movement suite Vitoria, based on his experiences playing with various Basque musicians in Northern Spain. A Marsalis composition is generally very complex rhythmically and wickedly difficult to play, all the more impressive because he uses a lot of high-speed unison passages within his sections. I bought the CD set and have given it one listen. As always, a recording is a disappointment after a live performance, but I’ll give this one several chances. There are certainly lots of brilliant solos, even if the overall emotional effect can’t equal a live concert. And good CDs tend to grow on me, as they should.
Couple of interesting things: I saw the concert at the U of A concert hall in Tucson, where we’re camped in the desert a few miles out of town for all of February. We wanted to include a bit of an urban experience in our travels this year, and though a nice enough small city, so far Tucson hasn’t quite delivered on expectations. It’s no Portland (which is no San Francisco, which is no New York), but then Arizona is Arizona, and politically and culturally, it’s probably worse than you think.
The concert sold out, but I was surprised at the general age of the audience, which in and of itself constituted a drain on our already weakened Social Security System. Other jazz concerts I’ve been to have had a much more diverse audience. What’s wrong with the U of A student body? With small exceptions, this seems a decidedly less-than-hip college town. Basketball is big, though.
Another interesting note: I had dinner before the concert just outside the university main gate, and when I went outside onto the sidewalk, I was amazed to hear a very fine performance of Tuvan throat singing by two street musicians: a singer, also playing a guitar, accompanied by a young woman on cello. Talk about harmonic possibilities.
I had to leave for the concert but waited for them to finish a song so I could tell them how delighted I was to stumble on such an extraordinary thing in the streets of Tucson. I also bought their CD, which is nothing like I expected: either a very authentic folk music with which I am completely unfamiliar, or something very avant garde. Or both.
If you know even less about throat singing than I do, you can check out the entry on Wikipedia. Better yet, get a hold of the documentary film Genghis Blues about blind American blues singer Paul Pena, who discovered throat singing on a short wave radio and learned he had a knack for it. The film documents Pena’s trip to Southern Siberia to meet some of the native musicians and the warm welcome he received there. I got it from Netflix some time ago.
Finally: A total mix of weather here in Tucson in February: two nights in a row it got down to 17 degrees, and I thought we’d never left home.
Wind and rain. But mostly sunny and warm and wonderful on my old bones.
No snow here, but in the mountains around town a little.
Marsalis has won more awards, from Grammies to a Pulitzer Prize, than probably any other jazz musician living or dead, with the possible exception of Ellington. Opinion is divided among aficionados, though, about whether he warrants all the honors. I’ll just say that while he’s not my favorite musician, composer, or band leader, I’d never miss a chance to see him in a live performance. And the JLCO is comprised of fifteen of the finest musicians in jazz today, and together they put on a stunning performance of technical virtuosity and improvisational brilliance that leaves me dazzled and drained by the end of an evening.
The first time I saw them about two years ago, they performed a mix of jazz standards and a few compositions by different band members, but Friday night they only performed eight movements of Marsalis’ twelve-movement suite Vitoria, based on his experiences playing with various Basque musicians in Northern Spain. A Marsalis composition is generally very complex rhythmically and wickedly difficult to play, all the more impressive because he uses a lot of high-speed unison passages within his sections. I bought the CD set and have given it one listen. As always, a recording is a disappointment after a live performance, but I’ll give this one several chances. There are certainly lots of brilliant solos, even if the overall emotional effect can’t equal a live concert. And good CDs tend to grow on me, as they should.
Couple of interesting things: I saw the concert at the U of A concert hall in Tucson, where we’re camped in the desert a few miles out of town for all of February. We wanted to include a bit of an urban experience in our travels this year, and though a nice enough small city, so far Tucson hasn’t quite delivered on expectations. It’s no Portland (which is no San Francisco, which is no New York), but then Arizona is Arizona, and politically and culturally, it’s probably worse than you think.
The concert sold out, but I was surprised at the general age of the audience, which in and of itself constituted a drain on our already weakened Social Security System. Other jazz concerts I’ve been to have had a much more diverse audience. What’s wrong with the U of A student body? With small exceptions, this seems a decidedly less-than-hip college town. Basketball is big, though.
Another interesting note: I had dinner before the concert just outside the university main gate, and when I went outside onto the sidewalk, I was amazed to hear a very fine performance of Tuvan throat singing by two street musicians: a singer, also playing a guitar, accompanied by a young woman on cello. Talk about harmonic possibilities.
I had to leave for the concert but waited for them to finish a song so I could tell them how delighted I was to stumble on such an extraordinary thing in the streets of Tucson. I also bought their CD, which is nothing like I expected: either a very authentic folk music with which I am completely unfamiliar, or something very avant garde. Or both.
If you know even less about throat singing than I do, you can check out the entry on Wikipedia. Better yet, get a hold of the documentary film Genghis Blues about blind American blues singer Paul Pena, who discovered throat singing on a short wave radio and learned he had a knack for it. The film documents Pena’s trip to Southern Siberia to meet some of the native musicians and the warm welcome he received there. I got it from Netflix some time ago.
Finally: A total mix of weather here in Tucson in February: two nights in a row it got down to 17 degrees, and I thought we’d never left home.
Wind and rain. But mostly sunny and warm and wonderful on my old bones.
No snow here, but in the mountains around town a little.
Friday, February 04, 2011
Sixty-three
Sometime this week (I’m not sure what day this is), I celebrate my 63rd birthday. I don’t know what life stage this puts me in. We can quickly rule out young and old. I am not sixty-three-years young.
I am also not old. Petroglyphs are old. Coprolites are old. Catfish can live to be one-hundred.
I am, though, no longer middle-aged. I haven’t been middle-aged for some time now, which is good because I never liked middle-age.
This leaves a short list of euphemisms such as “senior,” which I reject, and active-retired, which isn’t too bad. In the end, though, I prefer to just think of myself as sixty–three and not worry about a general category. I’m sixty-three, which is a lot older than I ever expected to live to and which seemed ancient when I was only middle-aged. I think of sixty-three as the age at which, no matter what the question, the answer is always, “I have to go to the bathroom.” Physically, it’s not a great age to be but it could be a lot worse. Wait for sixty-four.
For the last few weeks, Mary has been asking me what I want for my birthday. I try to be spontaneous and genuine in my answers.
-A tommy gun.
I get the stare.
Seriously. Every real man wants a tommy gun. I’m not talking about some girly assault weapon, probably a 9mm that folds up to fit in your pocket and which here in Arizona is more popular than rattlesnake anti-venom. I’m thinking more of one of those fine old firearms gangsters used to shoot at The Untouchables, .45 caliber fully automatic lettuce shredders you can fire in extended bursts and yell manly things like, “Eat lead, Ness!”
It’s clear I’m not getting a tommy gun, so I give it a few more days thought, and when Mary asks again, I say, “a Jeep.” Mary recently invented the word “jeeping” to describe the off-road fun lots of people have out here in the desert. I may not approve of such activities but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want one for myself. We could jeep around together. Also, with a second tow vehicle I could bring down a motorcycle, which I’ve been missing. Lots of guys find ways to bring down a motorcycle for the winter, but our configuration of truck with a canopy and a travel trailer won’t allow it.
I can see right away that I’m not getting a Jeep either.
Finally we settle on a pretty good present, above the arbitrary and capricious limit of one-hundred dollars that Mary originally set, but less than a year in Mexico studying Spanish, which was my third wish: we agreed on a three-day rental of a Gold Wing. Last year I rented a big Harley tourer. Since I can’t have my own bike here, I decided each year I could rent some other bike I never would buy but which I’d like to have a chance to take out once before age-related vertigo makes it impossible to ride and I have to switch to a trike.
This year, it’s going to be a Gold Wing, the Honda luxo-tourer which weighs in at over eight-hundred pounds and is so comfortable it’s reputed to be better than a massage therapist. I noticed that if you rent for two days they throw in the third day free, which should allow me to cross the country and return without ever getting off except to pee. (See above.) Mary said that sounded like a pretty good present, the extra day which becomes two, and I said I thought so, too. About $150.
So sometime next week, right around my birthday, we’re moving down to Tucson where we’re going to stay for a full month in a funky little RV park we found last year, and I’ll call around and see what color Gold Wing I can find to rent. I’m thinking red like the Harley so I can make a fair comparison.
I’ll need something fun to cheer me up, because this sixty-three thing is kind of depressing me. I’m determined to age gracefully, but I don’t have to like it.
I am also not old. Petroglyphs are old. Coprolites are old. Catfish can live to be one-hundred.
I am, though, no longer middle-aged. I haven’t been middle-aged for some time now, which is good because I never liked middle-age.
This leaves a short list of euphemisms such as “senior,” which I reject, and active-retired, which isn’t too bad. In the end, though, I prefer to just think of myself as sixty–three and not worry about a general category. I’m sixty-three, which is a lot older than I ever expected to live to and which seemed ancient when I was only middle-aged. I think of sixty-three as the age at which, no matter what the question, the answer is always, “I have to go to the bathroom.” Physically, it’s not a great age to be but it could be a lot worse. Wait for sixty-four.
For the last few weeks, Mary has been asking me what I want for my birthday. I try to be spontaneous and genuine in my answers.
-A tommy gun.
I get the stare.
Seriously. Every real man wants a tommy gun. I’m not talking about some girly assault weapon, probably a 9mm that folds up to fit in your pocket and which here in Arizona is more popular than rattlesnake anti-venom. I’m thinking more of one of those fine old firearms gangsters used to shoot at The Untouchables, .45 caliber fully automatic lettuce shredders you can fire in extended bursts and yell manly things like, “Eat lead, Ness!”
It’s clear I’m not getting a tommy gun, so I give it a few more days thought, and when Mary asks again, I say, “a Jeep.” Mary recently invented the word “jeeping” to describe the off-road fun lots of people have out here in the desert. I may not approve of such activities but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want one for myself. We could jeep around together. Also, with a second tow vehicle I could bring down a motorcycle, which I’ve been missing. Lots of guys find ways to bring down a motorcycle for the winter, but our configuration of truck with a canopy and a travel trailer won’t allow it.
I can see right away that I’m not getting a Jeep either.
Finally we settle on a pretty good present, above the arbitrary and capricious limit of one-hundred dollars that Mary originally set, but less than a year in Mexico studying Spanish, which was my third wish: we agreed on a three-day rental of a Gold Wing. Last year I rented a big Harley tourer. Since I can’t have my own bike here, I decided each year I could rent some other bike I never would buy but which I’d like to have a chance to take out once before age-related vertigo makes it impossible to ride and I have to switch to a trike.
This year, it’s going to be a Gold Wing, the Honda luxo-tourer which weighs in at over eight-hundred pounds and is so comfortable it’s reputed to be better than a massage therapist. I noticed that if you rent for two days they throw in the third day free, which should allow me to cross the country and return without ever getting off except to pee. (See above.) Mary said that sounded like a pretty good present, the extra day which becomes two, and I said I thought so, too. About $150.
So sometime next week, right around my birthday, we’re moving down to Tucson where we’re going to stay for a full month in a funky little RV park we found last year, and I’ll call around and see what color Gold Wing I can find to rent. I’m thinking red like the Harley so I can make a fair comparison.
I’ll need something fun to cheer me up, because this sixty-three thing is kind of depressing me. I’m determined to age gracefully, but I don’t have to like it.
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