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tag:johnbartus.com,2005:/blogs/blog Blog 2020-01-10T14:32:38-05:00 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082056 2015-12-06T14:43:53-05:00 2019-12-18T18:36:29-05:00 Mark Knopfler – Better than Dire Straits
I first heard Mark Knopfler the way just about everyone else did, on the Dire Straits song "Sultans of Swing" back in 1978. Upon first impression, and it wasn't just mine, I wondered who was playing those cool Fender Stratocaster licks on a new Bob Dylan song.

Sadly, I missed my chance to see Dire Straits on their first American tour back when I was in college. (I know, stupid, stupid, stupid!) But I did follow the group throughout their career, as Knopfler's songs and the band's arrangements grew more sophisticated and amazing.

My favorite album of theirs is what I consider their artistic peak – Love Over Gold from 1982. The leadoff song is the 14-minute-plus epic "Telegraph Road" – a song that takes the listener on a journey from the birth of Detroit, Michigan through its development and eventual decline, the point of reference being the long linear thoroughfare in its title. I remember listening to that album over and over again on the original vinyl, with headphones on and lights off, marveling in the amazing tones coming off that record.

Three years later, Dire Straits hit it really huge with the worldwide multi-platinum Brothers in Arms, the record with all the mega-hits that saturated the airwaves. "Walk of Life," "So Far Away," and the MTV staple "Money for Nothing" helped define the 1980s and ushered in the CD and the beginning of digital music. It also was the beginning of the eventual end of the band.

Since then, Knopfler scored several movies and began his solo career. His exquisite and tasteful guitar work still enhances his songs, and his backing bands have been chock full of amazing and talented multi-instrumentalists. I know this for a fact, because I just got to see and hear Mark Knopfler live – finally, some 36 years after I missed Dire Straits for the first time.

There were a lot of songs from Knopfler's solo career, including several from his new CD, Tracker. Dire Straits fans were kept happy with "Romeo and Juliet," Sultans of Swing," "Telegraph Road," and one of the encore songs, "So Far Away."

Mark's guitar work was in fine form throughout the evening, as he switched from his signature Strat to a Gibson Les Paul to a Fender Telecaster to a vintage Danelectro to the metal National Resonator guitar featured on the cover of Brothers in Arms. Yes, there were several extended solos, just as one would expect at such a concert. But it wasn't a "solo" show per se, as Knopfler's band members each had multiple featured moments on instruments ranging from the typical guitars, bass, drums, and keyboards, to mandolins, bouzoukis, pipes, pennywhistles, fiddles, citterns, accordions, and a ukulele for good measure. The music flowed beautifully, the arrangements left nothing to be wanted, and the onstage camaraderie was blatantly evident. Mark and his cohorts were having a wonderful time, and their enthusiasm spread out into the warm and receptive audience.

The really good news is that the tour has four Florida dates in October, with the closest to the Keys on Halloween night at the Broward Center for the Arts in Fort Lauderdale. I will definitely be going back to see this show and this band.

It's kind of amusing that at one of the mega-resorts close to where we saw Mark Knopfler, Britney Spears was performing a multiple night engagement. And the I Heart Radio festival is taking place this weekend as you read this. Sadly, none of the "music" performed at either of those events can hold a candle to the amazing show I just saw. It's like comparing a kid's crayon drawing to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. There really is a difference between real music played by real musicians and the ever-present sampled producer product that has taken over modern radio.

Having experienced the real thing kind of eases the impact of getting old.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082054 2015-12-06T14:41:44-05:00 2019-12-18T18:36:28-05:00 Piracy – It's Not Just on the High Seas / An open letter to music thieves
Dear Music Lover,

As an independent local professional musician, I can't put into words the gratitude that I feel for those who come out and listen to me perform music, both my songs and the covers of songs by other artists. And when you really show your appreciation by buying a CD (or downloading an album or track from iTunes or CD Baby), it's the ultimate validation of what it is that I do. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

The rest of this column is for people who aren't loyal music fans. If you are the kind of person who rips CDs and shares the files all over the InterWebz, this is for you.

On behalf of all people who create recorded music, especially us independent local artists, I ask that you please don't copy, burn, share, upload, redistribute, or otherwise steal copyrighted material and intellectual property. It's just wrong, and it directly hurts those who do spend their time, money, and energy to create recorded music.

Most of us local artists aren't affiliated with big record companies that have lots of funding. We spend our own money on the technology or studio time to record our music, and then spend more on graphic design, CD replication, and packaging. So when you trade or give away these songs to others for free, then fewer people will buy the CD from the artist. The same goes for sharing iTunes or MP3 files that were legally downloaded. It is stealing. The end result is that less and less new music is recorded and released, and local musicians find it more difficult to stay in business.

Some think that by sharing files that it helps their favorite musicians get "more exposure." Many musicians, myself included, post songs for free download on their websites to do just that. But that's their call, not anyone else's. Giving away music for free does not result in more CD sales – it just takes hard-earned money away from musicians and recording artists.

Is it okay to go into a local restaurant, eat dinner, and walk out without paying so long as you promise to tell people how good the food was? Of course not! It's stealing from the hard-working people who cook and serve the food, and the owners and managers who run the restaurant. Stealing music is the same thing – it's just as wrong as running out on a restaurant or bar tab, stiffing the waiter or bartender, or shoplifting. And theft is not an acceptable way to "promote" music, period.

Bill Blue, a long-time Key West-based musician and blues artist, has seen songs from his latest CD turn up on free filesharing sites around the world, resulting in thousands of illegal downloads and multiple thousand$ in lost CD/download sales. I have seen some of my songs turn up on illegal filesharing sites as well.

Strangely enough, there are many people out there who have rationalized this kind of theft; they argue that intellectual property should just be freely distributed. Screw the artist or writer. With that kind of logic, why don't they just go to the Louvre, grab the Mona Lisa from the wall, and take it home? Musical artists spend a lot of time crafting their songs in the studio, and all they usually ask is a mere $10-15 per CD, or $0.99 per download on iTunes. If you enjoy the music, don't they deserve at least that much for their efforts?

Musicians usually don't become musicians to get rich. They do it because of their love of the music and the ability to share it with people who enjoy it. Years are spent learning how to play an instrument, learning how to sing, learning how to perform in front of an audience, and learning how to record and produce their music. Recording and releasing a CD is a labor of love and a costly endeavor. If you truly love music, and want to help your favorite local independent artists, buy their CDs and legal downloads – and don't share them in cyberspace. Just tell your friends where to get their own copies, and maybe your favorite artists will be able to keep releasing new music.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082053 2015-12-06T14:37:58-05:00 2019-12-18T18:36:28-05:00 The Strangest New Year's Gig – Starting 1984 in Santee, South Carolina
1984 was an important year in my life (the year my Keys adventure began). Although still in my early twenties, I was already a veteran road musician. I had been performing for a few years in a duo with Sallie Foster, a wonderful vocalist and entertainer who still performs regularly in season at the Bull in Key West. This story, however, is about how 1984 began at a New Year's Eve gig in Santee, South Carolina.

Santee is a small town in Orangeburg County – notable only for its proximity to Lake Marion and being the exact geographical location where US Highway 301 collides with Interstate 95. It also has a Holiday Inn. Back in those bygone days, nearly all Holiday Inns had lounges and most of them hired itinerant musicians to entertain the locals and lodgers that needed a drink before bedtime.

Speaking of drinks, consuming alcoholic beverages in the Palmetto State in the 1980s was, well, different. South Carolina was the last state in the union to require the use of minibottles for all cocktails and mixed drinks. Free pour was not even allowed until 2006. And to keep the morality mafia happy, Sunday alcohol sales were absolutely forbidden. Saturday night at midnight, the bar was closed!

If you figured out that New Year's Eve 1983 was on a Saturday night, give yourself extra credit.

That particular New Year's Eve, the hotel manager decided to have two different New Year's Eve parties. We would play in the bar, and another party would take place in the hotel's meeting room. After the parties ended, all guests would be funneled into the hotel restaurant for breakfast.

Now, I don't want to cast aspersions about the judgment of this particular manager, but… according to hotel staff, he was rumored to have been quite enamored with the then-ubiquitous Brazilian Marching Powder. So, the fine people of Santee and the travelers away from home would get two New Year's Eve parties. What a great idea! The manager wanted each group to arrive at the restaurant in a staggered fashion, one group earlier than the other. And it was a Saturday night, with all alcohol off the tables and bars before midnight. MIDNIGHT. ON FREAKIN' NEW YEAR'S EVE.

You may ask yourself just how this chemically inspired, Peter-Principle-ascendancy-example manager intended to bend the rules of time to accomplish two New Year's Eve countdowns and staggered breakfast arrival times while ensuring all booze was off the tables (including champagne for toasts) before the New Year actually arrived. The solution was as ridiculous as it was stupid.

Our party would wind down early. We were instructed to start the countdown to the New Year at 11:45 p.m. We would sing "Auld Lang Syne" and rush everyone out to the restaurant. The other party would hold their countdown at 11:55 p.m. What could go wrong?

Well, when we started the countdown, the assembled partygoers looked at us as if we each had three heads, one of them pimply. Even that far back in time, people still had wristwatches and somehow knew that the New Year wasn't really arriving at that precise moment. Some of the guests understood and played along, and some of them were too inebriated to care. Still, the vast majority of revelers were not one bit happy with the premature inauguration of 1984, and blamed us for the buzzkill. I recall hiding out with the bartenders until the crowd made its way to breakfast, their grumbling growing louder as they heard the meeting room party count down much closer to the actual time of the New Year's arrival.

There have been a lot of New Year's Eves since that one in Santee, most of them better. But there are more stories, some of which may actually be shared in this column one day. I hope the New Year of 2015 is a good one for all, and that the stories we'll tell of this new year will bring us smiles for many years to come!
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082048 2013-11-26T06:07:21-05:00 2020-01-10T14:35:38-05:00 You Gotta Know When to Fold 'Em – Life lessons in spades (hearts, clubs, and diamonds, too)
I have devoted more than a few hours of time over the past several years learning the game of Texas Hold 'Em Poker. I consider myself an above-average player (yeah, who doesn't?). I have put in the time learning the game from myriad books written by poker pros with names like Doyle "Texas Dolly" Brunson. I have observed the pros in tournament play. I have learned a lot about reading people through my years of experience in advertising, publishing, music, and politics. I have played in cash games and tournaments from here to Las Vegas. And I may have played my last hand ever of Texas Hold 'Em.

On trips to Las Vegas, I have done relatively well in poker play, making money in cash games and making final tables in tournaments at Binion's and the Bellagio. My most recent trip started with a good day in a cash game at Caesar's Palace. Then, the poker world I knew turned upside down over four hands in two days – four hands of the Apocalypse that left me reeling over how bad things can happen to good poker players.

The first apocalyptic hand of the trip ended my participation in a tournament at Binion's one otherwise fine afternoon. I was "blessed" with pocket Queens (a pair of Queens as my hole cards). I raised the pre-flop bet and was then raised all-in by a guy who had been playing very loose. I called his all-in bet and was relieved to see when he turned over his Jack-Ten unsuited. My relief turned to sheer disappointment as the flop came down Jack-Deuce-Jack. There were no other Queens forthcoming, and my tournament day was over. Stuff happens. I shook hands and planned my next tournament.

Fast-forward 24 hours to the next tournament at Binion's. The game is going very well, and I have made the final table. One of five players remaining, I had one of the top two chip stacks and was cruising right along. I felt good, especially when I was raised all-in while holding pocket Kings. Cowboys. I called the bet from the guy with a chip stack half my size. He turned over a pair of Sixes. As the flop came out King-Deuce-Ace, I was fully expecting my three-of-a-kind to prevail. Unfortunately, when the turn and river cards both came out as sixes, my full house did not prevail over his four-of-a-kind. Half of my chip stack disappeared quicker than you can say Bad Beat.

I was still in the tournament, however, and I was still very much alive. I played on, won a couple more hands, and things were turning around when I was again raised all-in while holding a pair of Aces. Pocket Rockets! The best pre-flop hand! I called, and was almost excited when my opponent turned over his 8-9 off suit. The nascent excitement turned into a nauseous disgust as the flop came out – and I am not making this up – 8-9-9. Another tournament day had ended, and no Binion's championship was there for me.

Like a punch-drunk MMA fighter who just doesn't know when not to get back in the octagon, I searched out a cash game later that night to "turn my luck around." I ended up doing a lot more folding than holding, as the cards just wouldn't come. I was about to cash in my chips when I got a decent hand – pocket Tens. I raised pre-flop, and the only person I got to call was the big blind. The flop comes out 9-2-4 unsuited. The Tens still look good. Thinking my opponent has a high card or perhaps a decent pair, I place a protection bet and expected either a raise or a fold. Just a call comes. The turn card comes up a 2. I bet again and get called again – not raised. The river card is a 7. There are no straight or flush possibilities on the board. I am holding two pair, Tens and Deuces. I bet, get called, and then get beaten by my opponent's Deuce-7 off-suit hole cards – the worst starting hand in Texas Hold 'Em.

For the record, I would not have changed my play on any of these four hands. But this unfortunate turn of events started me thinking about poker and life. Most of the things I have done in my life bring something of value to others, whether it's playing music that uplifts a person's spirits, helping local businesses get recognition through advertising and promotion, or volunteer work through Rotary and the Chamber. Each of these is rewarding for all parties concerned – true win-win scenarios. To be an ultimate winner at Texas Hold 'Em Poker means that everyone else has to lose.

Why should I devote more of my life to this?
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082047 2013-11-26T06:05:08-05:00 2020-01-10T14:35:32-05:00 No Revival Necessary – John Fogerty lends credence to the belief that 68 is the new 38
Last week I had the good fortune to see John Fogerty live in concert at the Hard Rock Live. As many of you know, Fogerty was the singer and songwriter behind the legendary group Creedence Clearwater Revival, as well as his own solo recordings. He is a card-carrying member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and was on my bucket list of musical legends to see before I die.

I can cross him off my list. I just wonder which of us is going to die first. John Fogerty is 68 years old, but seems 30 years younger than he actually is. He sings and plays as good as he ever did, still wears his trademark plaid flannel shirts (which you can buy at the merch table), and runs around the stage with the energy and abandon of a twenty-something rocker. The pre-show video revealed that he practices guitar four hours a day, and runs six miles a day.

I don't run six miles in a year.

So there he was, a living musical legend, performing songs from his Creedence and solo careers – so many great songs that have become a part of our American musical history and tradition. "Born on the Bayou." "Green River." "Who'll Stop the Rain?" "Lookin' Out My Back Door." "Hot Rod Heart." "Midnight Special." "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" "Down on the Corner." "Centerfield." "Up Around the Bend." "The Old Man Down the Road." "Fortunate Son." "Bad Moon Rising." "Proud Mary." And there were more – a lot more. His band was more than capable of meeting the challenge of keeping up with this incredible set list, and featured one of the finest rock drummers ever in Kenny Aronoff.

There will be so many cool memories I'll have of this concert for years to come. Watching John play some of the guitars he used to record the original versions of the songs he played that night, including several of his old Gibson Les Pauls, an old Fender Telecaster, and the Louisville Slugger baseball bat guitar he used while playing "Centerfield"… the stories he would tell about the songs, especially the Woodstock story he told right before playing "Who'll Stop the Rain?"… the energy and abandon with which he approached each song as if he were playing them for the first time.

He allowed local Shriners to sell copies of his newest CD, Wrote a Song for Everyone, with proceeds going to benefit Shriners' Children's Hospitals. The album features Fogerty playing new arrangements of many of his classic hits along with guest artists like Foo Fighters, Keith Urban, Bob Seger, Kid Rock, Zac Brown Band, Miranda Lambert, Brad Paisley, My Morning Jacket, Jennifer Hudson, and more. There are a couple of new songs as well, and the standout is a great reflective rocker about traveling through life called "Mystic Highway."

Rolling Stone magazine gave the album five stars. After listening to it a couple of times, I certainly understand why. The songs are timeless as ever, and the duet performances reveal that making this record must have been a great time for all involved. Hearing the Foo Fighters tear into "Fortunate Son" with a vengeance, and listening to Fogerty trade guitar licks on "Hot Rod Heart" with an incendiary Brad Paisley alone make this CD worth it to have.

Musicians like Fogerty and Sir Paul McCartney continue to reinforce a theory I came up with early in my musical career: music keeps you young. There's something about getting up on stage and singing/playing one's heart out that takes the musician back to the first time he ever picked up a guitar or heard herself on a playback of a great recorded take. It's mystic; it's primal; it's an amazing feeling that compares to nothing else. And it keeps a person in touch with the inner flame that's in all of us. Certainly at this point in their careers, Fogerty and McCartney don't need the money. They don't quit because this is what they do and who they are.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082046 2013-11-26T06:03:33-05:00 2020-01-10T14:33:53-05:00 The 21st Century Musician – Bowie was right about the ch-ch-ch-changes!
It seems hard to believe, especially for me, that I've been performing music professionally for more than 30 years. My aspiring amateur status dates back even a few more years. Aside from qualifying me as a geezer, having played music since the 1970s means I've seen some major changes in the business, from the lower rungs on the ladder where I reside, all the way to the top, or what's left of it.

When I started out, this rock music thing was still quite a youngster. Rock-and-roll is officially just six years older than I am, and I can still vividly remember the sounds of the 1960s that came through my little Sony transistor radio. The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, the Stones, and the Doors—much to my parents' chagrin—were the soundtrack of the life of an overprotected young boy who wanted to go surfing and skateboarding like the older kids were doing in Cocoa Beach in the mid-to-late 1960s.

As the '60s turned into the '70s, we left Florida for South Carolina, and the music started to change. The radio stations in upstate South Carolina weren't playing the stuff I really wanted to hear (like Dylan or Pink Floyd), but dadgum, there shore was a lotta Lynyrd Skynyrd and Marshall Tucker Band. Yee haw. While I have a deeper appreciation for their music today, I just wasn't into the redneck rock thing. As I picked up the guitar for the first time, I gravitated toward the singer-songwriter element that was taking off in a big way: James Taylor, Gordon Lightfoot, Cat Stevens, Jim Croce, and all the Dylan I didn't already know. I bought Joni Mitchell albums but I could never get the hang of her guitar style (it wasn't until much later that I found out she had different tunings for practically every song she wrote).

Getting my first electric guitar turned me onto the world of Jimi Hendrix, David Gilmour, and (later) Mark Knopfler. I loved the Fender Stratocaster, but all I could afford was a second-hand Fender Mustang (a way cool pre-CBS 1965 Fender Mustang). Plugged into a couple of pedals and an inexpensive amp, I learned my blues scales and started playing bad lead. (I got better.)

I spend all this time in the Wayback Machine to illustrate how different it is to be a musician today. Back then, an aspiring musician practiced until they got good enough to play and sing in front of other people, maybe found some other musicians to play with, started getting some gigs, then started working steadily, building a following, and (perhaps, with a lot of luck) getting the attention of someone at a record label or management firm. (Yeah, I've got a couple of "almosts" in my closet.)

It's much harder today. First of all, aspiring musicians have to wade through so much non-musical crap on the radio (back then, we only had disco or "beautiful music") in order to find something inspiring (or find it on iTunes). Then, once they get good enough to perform, they have to look good. Then, they have to try and find gigs (not as many as there used to be, especially the paying ones). Let's not forget putting together some sort of recording rig and putting out a CD (the Big Three record labels aren't doing so much of that since the industry has gone into a tailspin). Then there's the endless promotional stuff—website, MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, mass e-mails to a (hopefully) growing list of fans, street teams, and touring on convenience store cuisine and peanut butter sandwiches.

Or, for geezers like myself, nothing beats some great local venues that still book live music, and having a great band that really rocks. When I'm not playing, I'll be updating the website, sending e-mails, and getting ready for the CD release party for the new John Bartus CD (early 2014). In the meantime… keep on rockin'!
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082045 2012-08-09T08:09:57-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:43-05:00 Shock, No Awe
Not even a week after I wrote about the horrific and tragic murders in Aurora and Conch Key, caring people's hearts were broken again as a hate-filled murderer took the lives of six others before losing his own at a Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, Wisconsin. Once again, tears flow. Once again, people mourn the loss of family members and friends. And once again, a community's members are left bewildered, trying to pick up the pieces of shattered lives and wondering how something like that could have happened in a place they call home. And the rest of us try to understand just how something like this could have happened… again. With each new deadly event, we are still saddened to the core – but not as shocked as we once were.

Long before the shooter's identity and background were revealed, as the details were first coming in, I had created a mental image of the person who did it – and I wasn't far off. My image of a hate-filled pseudo-macho bigot bound and determined to rid America of invasive non-Christian foreigners was painfully close to the profile of the white supremacist hate-monger the shooter turned out to be.

What was incredibly revealing about the troubled psyche of this murderer was his involvement as a musician in a band in a fringe genre of music known as "hate rock." The shooter led a North Carolina-based white-power band called End Apathy, and performed in several others. And because of his murderous actions in Wisconsin, the world now knows a lot more than it ever did about hate rock.

There is an actual market for this garbage – a couple of record labels put out tens of thousands of recordings of hate rock bands each year for their demented followers. These bands play shows and spread the hate anywhere in the country where bigots and white supremacists gather. What an abomination. Music is a gift from a much higher plane of existence than ours, a way to reach people's hearts and souls – to uplift them and take them to a better place. What these hate-freaks do is a perversion of something wonderful… and we see just what happens as a result of this kind of perverted inspiration.

As Barack Obama was being inaugurated as our 44th President, some commentators who were caught up in the moment were talking about moving forward as a post-racial America. I knew better. While we have made great strides in the last 60 years, there is still a whole lot of latent racism left in America. From ignorant individuals all the way to more organized groups like the Klan, Neo-Nazis, Aryan Brotherhoods, and others, hate is endemic in large parts on our country. And it's not just race – it's intolerance of anything perceived as un-Christian and un-American. That's why peaceful Sikhs were murdered in Oak Creek… and why a mosque was burned to the ground in Joplin, Missouri this past week… and why things like this will likely still keep happening.

To totally eliminate hate and bigotry, people have to change in their hearts. They have to discover for themselves that things they may have been taught or things they grew up believing aren't necessarily right. They have to move past their pasts and open their hearts and minds. And for some, it's not easy leaving it all behind. Consider a white child who grew up in a family that was prejudiced against African-Americans. Consider a Muslim child in Palestine who grew up hating Jews. Consider the Northern Ireland Protestant child who grew up hating Catholics (my Jesus is better than your Jesus). When bigotry and hatred go back generations, it's tough for people to get past it.

Tough – but not impossible. Consider South Africa: after years of the oppression that was apartheid, blacks and whites managed to come together, forgive each other, and begin heal a nation's collective soul faster than anyone could have ever dreamed. They still have a lot of work to do, but at least they're working together.

And some of the progress we have made gives me hope that one day we will see more tolerance and less hatred here in America… and that a message of love and acceptance will be heard by more and more people who really believe that all of us are God's children… and that events like those of this past week become so rare that they actually do shock us again.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082044 2012-08-03T08:08:48-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:34-05:00 Two Kinds of People
At the risk of oversimplifying a much larger problem (and way over-generalizing as well – a tragic flaw of anyone who claims to be a writer), there are two kinds of people in this world: those who care about their fellow human beings, and those who don't. (Yes, I know that there are really more than two kinds of people – there are at least three. Just follow along for a while.)

Our great American society has a real problem when it comes to dealing with mental illness. We (as a society) really don't do hardly a damn thing about it. Most of us simply don't care or even understand how big the problem is, treatment options are limited, and way too many end up forgotten, homeless, or incarcerated. By the time the last option occurs, it's usually because someone with mental illness has acted violently or in a manner that rational people don't understand.

In Aurora, Colorado, a sick individual with quite the collection of firearms and other ordnance killed, wounded, and forever scarred many unsuspecting people who committed the "crime" of just wanted an evening's escape at the movies. A graduate student in neuroscience somehow managed to amass a large collection of weapons, ammunition, and body armor, booby-trapped his apartment, and plotted his mass murder completely under the radar? How does someone like that escape notice? And why did the media report his mother as saying she "wasn't surprised" at what happened?

Closer to home, a Conch Key woman known as "Sea Hag" shot and killed one of her neighbors because he committed the "crime" of refusing to give her a beer. She is 62 years old, with no prior convictions or arrests. Like the Aurora shooter, she was not likely in her right mind. No one in his or her right mind goes to a neighbor's house with a gun to ask for a beer.

The neighbor, Martin Mazur, did not deserve to be brutally murdered; neither did the moviegoers in Aurora deserve what happened to them. The likely outcome is that neither murderer will ever see a free day ever again. But incidents like these raise questions, or at least they should. What could have been done that might have prevented these senseless killings? Were there telltale red flags given off by these killers that should have been noticed or reported? Is there anything we can do as a society to get mentally ill people the help they need before they pull the trigger?

Something that resonated with me was the premiere of the HBO series The Newsroom, in which actor Jeff Daniels portrays a somewhat conflicted cable TV journalist named Will McAvoy. During that first episode, McAvoy goes off on a college student that asked him why America was the greatest country in the world. Here's part of his response:

"…There is absolutely no evidence to support the statement that we're the greatest country in the world. We're 7th in literacy, 27th in math, 22nd in science, 49th in life expectancy, 178th in infant mortality, third in median household income, number four in labor force and number four in exports. We lead the world in only three categories. Number of incarcerated citizens per capita, number of adults who believe angels are real and defense spending where we spend more than the next 26 countries combined 25 of whom are allies." (I'll add that anyone who thinks we've got the greatest health care system in the world is delusional.)

While some of the numbers vary according to which sources are used, the speech does paint a picture of areas we're failing in as a society. And the McAvoy character also missed other notable "firsts" for America: "We are also first in obesity, divorce, pollution, national debt, hours of television watched, weapons sales, murder, rape, and fuel consumption. On the other hand, America is the wealthiest and most powerful country in the world and we are the global leader in productivity, charitable giving and foreign aid." (Source: Edgar Allen Beem, The Forecaster.)

After explaining why we weren't the best anymore, McAvoy went on: "We sure used to be. We waged wars on poverty, not poor people. We sacrificed, we cared about our neighbors, we put our money where our mouths were, and we never beat our chest. We built great big things, made ungodly technological advances, explored the universe, cured diseases, and cultivated the world's greatest artists and the world's greatest economy. We reached for the stars, and acted like men."

Maybe it's time we took a serious look at our priorities and started questioning whether it's better to, say, incarcerate non-violent pot smokers on the taxpayer's dime, or perhaps use that money for better things, like perhaps, mental health research? And just maybe, someday we can reduce the number of the other kind of people – those who don't give a damn about their fellow human beings.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082043 2011-06-23T03:38:43-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:26-05:00 Clarence Clemons, 1942-2011
My first introduction to Clarence Clemons was probably the same as it was for most everybody. In 1975, Bruce Springsteen released his Born to Run album. On the cover, in black and white, was a portrait of black and white. There was the Boss, a somewhat ratty-looking Bruce Springsteen, holding his hot-rodded Fender Esquire guitar and leaning against a large, well-dressed man blowing into a saxophone.

As the Springsteen legend continued to grow throughout the 1970s, so did the legend of the Big Man. There was a special bond between Clarence and Bruce that many have seen and written about, most notably Clarence himself in his autobiography, Big Man: Real Life and Tall Tales. Clarence said, "When I first met him, I didn't want to let go, and he didn't want to let go. It's like you finally found out what you were looking for all your life artistically, creatively... We just talked about ourselves, about what we wanted in life. The connection is still there. I love being with him. I love being around him."

During the E Street Band's legendary four-hour concerts, Clemons and Steve Van Zandt alternated their roles as Springsteen's onstage foils. Still, when it came time for the Boss to introduce his bandmates, the biggest and best introduction ever in rock and roll was bestowed upon Clemons. Superlative upon superlative was always piled on: "The King of the World, the Big Kahuna, the Prince of the City, the Duke of Paducah, Master of the Universe — you want to be like him, but you can't — do I have to say his name?" At which point, the crowds would be roaring their appreciation and love as the Big Man stepped forward into the spotlight. And that's how I (and most of the rest of the world) knew Clarence Clemons.

It was sometime in the 1990s that I learned that Clarence had started hanging out in the Keys, mostly Islamorada. I first met him at a Seafood Festival during my term as Mayor of the City of Marathon. He was there jamming with Jen and Capt. Diego Cordova; I think I played that year, too. When we were introduced, and Clarence found out that I was the Mayor as well as a musician, I remember him saying, "You're a musician and the mayor??? This is a cool town."

Not long after, Clarence bought a house in Marathon. And a couple of years after our first meeting, the Big Man sat in with my band. It was a hot summer night at Dockside, and the word had gotten out around town because the place was packed. That night was one of the highlights of my musical life.

Our first set lasted an hour and a half. We did classic rock favorites and even some of my songs, and it was as if he'd been rehearsing with us forever. It was a little surreal to think that the guy playing saxophone right beside me was the same guy from the Born to Run album cover and all those classic songs, the most famous saxophone player in the world. At that time, my band did just one Springsteen song, and of course an audience member requested some Springsteen. "There's no saxophone in 'Hungry Heart,'" Clarence said after I called the song.

"Well, I always thought there should have been," I said.

A big grin broke over Clarence's face. "Me, too! Let's do it the way it should have been done!" And we did. Ninety minutes after we started, dripping with sweat, we took a break. Clarence was immediately mobbed, and I watched with admiration as he talked to everybody who came up to see him.

About fifteen minutes into the break, Clarence waved me over to where he was holding court. He told me, "You guys are good, and that was fun. Would you mind if I played another set with you?" It didn't take me very long to tell him he was welcome as long as he wanted to play. And I went home that night high as a kite over getting a compliment from a music legend.

After that night, I saw him a couple of other times — once with Bruce and the E Street Band in Miami, and again at the rally to save the Brass Monkey. I couldn't get anywhere near him because everyone wanted to be around him. I thought I'd have another chance to jam with him or at least get him to autograph my copy of his autobiography. Unfortunately…

Even though he had endured multiple knee and back surgeries, Clarence was playing right up until the end. He played with Lady Gaga and appeared on American Idol. And he was supposed to have played the National Anthem for Game 2 of the NBA Finals, but a hand injury robbed us of the opportunity to see the Big Man on the Big Sports stage. Not long after, a stroke robbed us of ever seeing Clarence Clemons playing his saxophone again. The legacy he left behind will live forever, like Clarence himself, larger than life.

Rest in peace, Big Man. Thank you for 40 years — and one special night — of music.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082042 2011-05-24T19:23:40-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:21-05:00 50 Years of Americans in Space
 I was a space brat.

 There was no better place to be a kid in the 1960s than Cape Canaveral (then Cape Kennedy). Rockets went off in my backyard. Not just Titans and Deltas, but honest-to-God Saturns. There was nothing quite as amazing as watching (and hearing and feeling) a Saturn V leave the launch pad and climb into the sky on a pillar of fire.

 I was born the same year Alan Shepard became the first American in space (1961), losing the first man in space honor by a few weeks to Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin. In 1963, my father took a job that led us to Florida's Space Coast. He went to work as an engineer on the Saturn IB project, the rocket destined for the first Apollo missions.

 Needless to say, I wanted to be an astronaut more than anything. My favorite toy was a GI Joe in full astronaut regalia that came with a scale model replica of a Mercury capsule that GI Joe and his spacesuit fit into perfectly. We lived close enough to the Cape (on Merritt Island) to see the launches from our backyard. It was close enough to the launch sites so that our sliding glass patio doors would shake in their frames from the roar of the liftoff.

 When there would be test flights of the Saturn IB, my father was part of the launch crew, and would be locked down in the Launch Complex 34 blockhouse (a reinforced concrete bunker that housed Launch Control) until after a successful liftoff. On February 21, 1967, while my father was in the blockhouse, tragedy struck during a routine launch pad test of the first manned Apollo mission. A flash fire sparked inside the sealed 100% oxygen-enriched Apollo capsule, and astronauts Gus Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee were killed.

 This set the Apollo program back as the Command Module (capsule) had to be completely redesigned. My father's last lockdown in the LC-34 blockhouse was the return of Americans into space, the launch of Apollo 7 on October 11, 1967. That was the last time Complex 34 was used; it sits abandoned in place on the Cape, a memorial to the crew of Apollo 1. (My family left the Cape before the first moon landing in 1969.)

 The last time the Saturn IB flew was in 1975 on the joint Apollo/Soyuz mission. In 1981, 20 years after Alan Shepard's first flight, the Space Shuttle era began as Columbia blasted into orbit. Challenger, Discovery, and Atlantis joined Columbia as our fleet of reusable space vehicles. Unfortunately, the shuttle fleet was high-maintenance and cost more than was originally projected, but it served its purpose of getting people and large payloads into Earth orbit.

 On January 28, 1986, a solid rocket booster failure caused the disintegration of the Challenger 73 seconds after liftoff, killing all seven astronauts. It took two years and nine months before the next shuttle mission took off. Endeavour was the replacement shuttle, and it first flew in 1992.

 Tragedy struck again on February 1, 2003 as Columbia broke apart during reentry, killing its crew of seven astronauts. Two and a half years passed before the shuttle fleet flew again. By this time, completion of the International Space Station had become the Shuttle's main mission. That mission will end on the final Space Shuttle flight, scheduled to be Atlantis on June 28.

 It's hard to believe that the Shuttle has been ferrying astronauts and cargo into space for 30 years. It's also hard to believe that 50 years after Alan Shepard's first flight, that the United States will not have a launch vehicle that can take people into space, nor are there any active plans for NASA to develop one. We will have to rely on Russian Soyuz spacecraft until such time as a private company comes along and develops the next generation launch vehicle, or until we decide as a nation to resume our role as the world's leader in peaceful space exploration. It was six years between the final Apollo flight and the first Shuttle flight. I wonder how many years it will be before the next American astronauts blast off from Cape Canaveral.

 And I sure hope my father is around to see it.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082041 2010-07-31T06:22:16-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:10-05:00 The King (of the Undersea Jungle) is Dead? Tasty, Too!
As we sit and bask in the afterglow of another lobster mini-season, that special time between it and the opening of regular lobster season, let's pause for a moment and reflect on all the crawling crustaceans who gave up their lives so that we might have something tasty to dip in drawn butter. Okay. Let's also hope that the resource was respected (one can always hope) and that things are returning to some semblance of normalcy (well, as normal as one can get in the Keys).

While we're on the subject of diving, there are a few critical updates some of our visitors may not yet have heard. Perhaps the most critical update involves the dangerous, scary, venomous, and certainly non-native lionfish. (Cue horror music and bloodcurdling scream.) While not from around these parts, the lionfish have adapted quite well to their Keys reef surroundings, and are literally feasting on everything from our colorful tropical fish to juvenile lobster to, well, anything that will fit in its mouth. For those unfamiliar with the lionfish's appearance, they're not ugly – they're a smallish striped fish with long flowing finger-like fins that make them attractive to aquarium keepers. At the end of those long finger-fins are venomous barbs that make the lionfish one of the untouchables of the undersea world. They have no local predators; not even the jewfish (okay, goliath grouper) will touch them. Even more scary, they reproduce faster than rabbits or feral cats, and have taken over other reefs in the Atlantic and Caribbean. It won't be long before we're totally overrun and the lionfish evolves lungs and starts stalking land-based prey and eats our pets and… okay, I made that last part up.

When the lionfish first appeared in the Keys, local environmental authorities encouraged divers to report sightings and locations. Well, there have been a lot of sightings of these coral reef carpetbaggers. Now, in a change of tactics (and I am not making this up), authorities are encouraging divers to kill any lionfish they see (at least in areas that aren't no-take zones). You read correctly: Kill the Lionfish.

One benefit is that, again according to our local authorities, lionfish are pretty tasty with a tender white meat not unlike snapper. Many of you are probably thinking, "How can a venomous fish like the lionfish be good to eat?!" As it was explained to me by an actual speaker at an actual recent Marathon Rotary Club meeting, only the fin barbs are venomous – the lionfish flesh is both safe and tasty!

Particular care must be taken when handling and cleaning the lionfish. There are gloves the fisherman and diver can wear that are impervious to the lionfish barbs; there are also HazMat suits for fumble-fingered fish cleaners with the dropsies. Anyway, cut off the fins, peel the fish, and there be beautiful white fillets for the cutting. So I was told.

Our speaker told us that, one day, we all might find ourselves ordering the fresh-caught local lionfish special in our Keys restaurants. Well, consider this: the lionfish is sort of like a more exotic (and non-scavenger) catfish, and people love catfish. Lionfish sounds at least as appetizing as something called "orange roughy." The Keys could certainly use a special food fish to attract visitors now that grouper season is closed for several months a year. And for the true thrill-seekers, a lionfish-toss competition could become a tradition at our local watering holes (bring your own helmets and gloves and watch for body shots).

And think of the dollars flowing into the Keys as the TDC and OFF join forces on an ad campaign touting the benefits of "Lionfish: The (Other) Other White Meat."
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082040 2010-07-24T06:20:55-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:07-05:00 Off-Island Preoccupations
Life in the Fabulous Florida Keys – it can certainly foster an island mentality among its residents. Sometimes that's a bad thing, like when idiot regimes and dictators in faraway places like Iran and North Korea threaten the rest of the world with their abject (but heavily armed) stupidity while we sip cocktails carefree by the shore (wait – maybe that's not a bad thing). There is, however, a lot that happens off the islands that, while seemingly full of sound and fury, signifies nothing. And that's where we're going today!

Screaming headline: Linsday Lohan in Jail! Really, now: who gives a tinker's dam? And just what is a tinker's dam? (From the 1877 text Practical Dictionary of Mechanics: "…a wall of dough raised around a place which a plumber desires to flood with a coat of solder. The material can be but once used; being consequently thrown away as worthless.") Now we know. Perhaps any more news about this spoiled Hollywood drunken druggie who even attorney Robert Shapiro won't represent should be "consequently thrown away as worthless."

Speaking of worthless, Mel Gibson is back in the news. When you're famous, it's probably not a good idea to be a violent racist anti-Semitic cheating woman-batterer. If he only had alcohol or some substance to blame for the fact that he never could forgive the Jews for killing Jesus… and we all know just how Christ-like Mel Gibson is. Please, someone send him back Down Under, never to be heard from again.

Moving from the pathetically worthless to the incredibly curious: what in the world would possess legendary football coach and commentator Jimmy Johnson to leave the comfort and safety of his Florida Keys home and become a contestant on reality show Survivor in Nicaragua? It's rumored that Johnson is a big Survivor fan, and that he's been trying to make the cast for a couple of years. I like The Amazing Race, but it doesn't mean that I want to rappel down the side of a skyscraper in Singapore and then jet to Beijing just to eat fried scorpions on the street.

Miami Herald columnist Glenn Garvin puts it simply: "I'm betting on Nicaragua." Garvin continues to offer his insights on the Central American nation from his own personal experience: "I've been writing about Nicaragua for a quarter of a century, and I can tell you it's no country for old men, or young men, or men with all their marbles. It's got wars and volcanoes and hurricanes. It's got vampire bats, for heaven's sake, not to mention loathsome little microorganisms that would make you throw up if I even told you about them, much less if they got into your gastrointestinal tract. When the first Spanish conquistadores arrived 500 years ago, they nervously sent word home that they had discovered the very mouth of Hell."

It doesn't really sound like a friendly place… but then Survivor: Paradise Island doesn't sound too challenging. ("This week, our contestants will try to find reasonably priced tropical drinks on the beach and then battle it out at the blackjack tables for immunity.") Still, I hope our readers join with me in wishing Jimmy all the best in Nicaragua – good luck, Godspeed, and come home in one piece.

At least in the celebrity world, forgiveness and reconciliation are in the air. Sandra Bullock and Jesse James may again be an item, and Bristol Palin and Levi Johnston are engaged to be married.

If you said, "Who?" about any of these people, you have my envy and respect.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082039 2010-07-17T06:19:35-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:06-05:00 Key Concepts
Life in the Fabulous Florida Keys – there are certain things we take for granted here that just aren't available anywhere else on the planet. So as we continue to enjoy the sun and fun of summertime surrounded by our pristine and unaffected-by-the-oil-spill-waters (Hear that, BP, NOAA, and the American Media?!?), let's all pause a minute or two and reflect on why we came here, either as a visitor or a resident (or somewhere in between). As the Weekly's resident curmudgeon, I'm not much of a "count your blessings" kind of guy. But even a jaded character like myself can now and again look around and see all the good stuff we have. Here's a short list of some of my favorite Keys things… because in the words of Mike Puto, "Ya gotta love it!"

1) Playing music. Yeah, I know, I do this as a job. And I know that it's not necessarily a Keys thing. But it's not just a job – playing music is my passion, my life, my raison d'etre. For those who don't play, I couldn't even begin to explain what it means to be able to pick up an instrument, sing, and create music out of thin air. Writers with far more talent than I will ever possess have struggled with written descriptions of the essence and importance of music. Here are a few of their thoughts on the subject:

"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." – Aldous Huxley

"Without music life would be a mistake." – Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

"Music can change the world because it can change people." – Bono

"If I were to begin life again, I would devote it to music. It is the only cheap and unpunished rapture upon earth." – Sydney Smith

"It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness, of pain: of strength and freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature and everlasting beauty of monotony." – Benjamin Britten

"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent." – Victor Hugo

"Writing about music is like dancing about architecture." – Elvis Costello or Laurie Anderson

2) Playing music here. Yeah, I know – it can be quite a sweaty proposition hauling around all the equipment needed to put on a performance this time of year (and reinforces just how much a musician needs a fan). But there is a real upside. The places I play are some of the coolest (in a hip island sense) joints around. Sparky's Landing, Cabana Breezes, Dockside, and the Sunset Grille are all awesome waterfront locations where I get to perform music harborside or seaside. The views are incredible, the people great, and each location has a well-stocked bar to help us all avoid the perils of dehydration. Alternatively, the Key Colony Inn offers me an indoor respite from summer's warmth, plus a chance to play my piano material that I don't get to play in other places. To be able to make my living performing music in a tropical island setting like this is truly a wonderful thing.

3) Palm trees and shorelines. Ever since I was a kid growing up in Florida, I've loved the fact that we lived close enough to the tropics to have palm trees. At latitudes as southern as ours, we are blessed with the more tropical vegetation like coconut palms. Nothing says "tropical" as much as these tall graceful trees. Throw in the full spectrum of additional tropical attractions like orchids and banyan trees, and our islands are resplendent with greenery suitable to an island paradise.

Put those palm trees on a beach, and we've exponentially increased our Island Paradise quotient. Waves lapping on shore… sea breezes blowing through the palms… a sunset and a cool tropical beverage… we don't have to go far to experience these things. We live here (or are plotting how we one day will). Of course, a shoreline means water, and water means things like boating, fishing, diving, snorkeling… you know, ya really do gotta love it!
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082038 2010-07-03T06:02:03-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:05-05:00 HEARTBREAKERS FIND THEIR MOJO
HEARTBREAKERS FIND THEIR MOJO

Petty & Co. deliver timeless, classic album

Remember albums? Those classic discs that contained the newest collections of songs from your favorite artists… you'd grab a bottle of wine and sit for a while to experience the work in its entirety (something that is totally lost on the MP3 generation). Well, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers have delivered us a real album, classic and timeless, and its name is Mojo.

Mojo kicks off with "Jefferson Jericho Blues," a rolling jaunt over Highway 61 with the car radio tuned to a blues station out of Chicago. Thomas Jefferson and his mistress Sally are along for the ride. Scott Thurston's blues harp blends perfectly with Mike Campbell's and Petty's guitars; in fact, Thurston's harp and Campbell's lead guitar have never sounded better.

Campbell channels some Hendrix (and a touch of Robby Krieger) on "First Flash of Freedom," a spacey ride through lyrical gems like, "A fistful of glory, a suitcase of sin/The language you dream in when you count to ten/You go to the edge but you always give in…." Punctuated by Benmont Tench's Hammond B3 work and some tasty harmony guitar solos, "Flash" invites you to just sit back and enjoy the nearly seven-minute trip.

"Running Man's Bible" is not so much a celebration but rather an acknowledgement of lasting through hard times while still maintaining some sense of self and morality, although survival is the ever-overriding concern. Campbell and Tench shine again.

Seat belts aren't necessary because time slows way down on "The Trip to Pirate's Cove." Imagine being a passenger in a car traveling five miles per hour, even as the world outside goes by at light speed. Such is the feeling one gets from the way the vocal echoes in the music slow down the lyrical imagery of a strange trip where "She was a part of my heart, but now she's just a line on my face." This is a classic Tom Petty story song.

"I Should Have Known It" kicks off Mojo's impressive middle section with a blast of guitars and drums that would have been right at home on Led Zeppelin IV. "Thanks for nothin'/Yeah, thanks a lot/Go ahead, baby/Take all I got," Petty sneers at the person who done him wrong, resolving, "That's the last time you're gonna hurt me." This is one of my favorites, and it just rocks.

Blues with a decidedly southern touch comes in the form of "U.S. 41," a song that one can easily imagine being played on the front porch of a tin-roofed shack somewhere in northern Florida. The old-time feel is enhanced by the effect on Tom's voice that makes him sound as if he's being played on an old 78 RPM disc on a Gramophone.

Robert Cray-style R&B-influenced blues rock is the style of the message song "High in the Morning," the lyrical successor to The Last DJ's "When a Kid Goes Bad." Mike Campbell's stinging licks punctuate the point that Petty is driving home.

"Something Good Coming" is another of my favorites on an album of standout songs, a slow-picked guitar number that again features Campbell's understated yet elegant slide guitar. The song's message offers up a ray of hope during troubled times, and I know a lot of listeners will relate.

Many reviewers have already made comparisons of "Good Enough" to Abbey Road-era Beatles. It's a compliment, as this is one of the best songs the Heartbreakers have ever recorded, certain to be a standout in the band's recorded legacy. The song's slow blues explodes with some of the best guitar work Mike Campbell has ever committed to tape (well, disc). "Gods bless this land, God bless this whisky/I can't trust love, it's far too risky," is a great line in an album full of the best lyrics that Petty may have ever written.

Recorded live in the band's rehearsal space, Mojo is perhaps the Heartbreakers' masterwork as a band. Petty's singing has never sounded better. After 34 years together for the four original members: Petty, Campbell, Tench, and bassist Ron Blair (plus 20 years for Scott Thurston and 15 for drummer Steve Ferrone), this band is firing on all cylinders and has most certainly found its own mojo. Currently on tour (and hopefully continuing to play as many Mojo songs as possible), Petty and the band continue to create and perform at the top of their game. Let's hope that the Heartbreakers have a few more albums in them, because it sounds like they're really just cranking into high gear.

* * * * *

Congratulations are in order to my alma mater, the University of South Carolina. My old school's baseball team won the College World Series this past week and are the NCAA National Champions. Go Cocks!
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082037 2010-06-26T06:01:10-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:03-05:00 What Is She Thinking?
A recent news article concerning wastewater funding has really left me in a not-so-warm-and-fuzzy state of mind. Not that any article on the topic is a real feel-good piece, mind you – it's just that I'm really left wondering what our Congresswoman, Ileana Ros-Lehtinen (R-FL), is thinking.

Here are the background details of the story that has left me puzzled. Remember back to the waning days of the Bush administration, when the economy faced all-but-certain meltdown? The President and Congress got together and passed a mega-billion-dollar "bailout bill" that used our taxpayer dollars to shore up financial institutions and preserve bonus payments to Wall Street executives. As totally distasteful as it was, we were told that it had to be done to avert global economic collapse.

In the early days of the new Obama administration, the economy – while perhaps not in danger of total disintegration – remained in a very feeble state. To help grow the economy, the President and Congress got together and passed a mega-billion-dollar "stimulus bill" that used our taxpayer dollars to keep automakers out of bankruptcy court and provide funds to shovel-ready infrastructure projects and create jobs. Once again, we were told that it had to be done to keep the recession from worsening.

The main difference between the "bailout bill" and the "stimulus bill" is that the latter actually has provided funds for shovel-ready wastewater and stormwater infrastructure projects in the Florida Keys. The City of Marathon, the Key Largo Sewer District, and the City of Key West all have benefitted directly from the $24.5 million in stimulus funds already dedicated to these projects (technically, there is a $1.5 million portion of these funds unspent that Key West will bill for by July 1). The really good news is that there is another $45 million in leftover stimulus funds that the Keys already qualify for and could be put to use right now this year.

That also means that local residents and businesses will see a reduction in their sewer bills as a direct result of federal funding we all agreed was necessary for these projects.

Well, one of us doesn't agree any more. Congresswoman Ileana Ros-Lehtinen (R-FL) has decided to not join our U.S. Senators Bill Nelson and George LeMieux in requesting that additional $45 million for the Keys. You read that correctly: our Congresswoman, Ileana Ros-Lehtinen (R-FL), will not support the request for the additional $45 million to be spent in her district on infrastructure projects we most certainly need.

What is she thinking?

In an e-mail to Free Press reporter Robert Silk, Congresswoman Ileana Ros-Lehtinen (R-FL) took credit for securing $35 million in federal funds for Keys wastewater projects. She balked at going after more funds, however, using as an excuse the $1.5 million in "unspent" funds, and urging Keys municipalities to spend it all before requesting more money.

That argument really doesn't hold water (treated or otherwise). Marathon has already used up all its funding and is still in the middle of its multi-million dollar project. Key Largo billed the Army Corps $2 million more than it received in case other stimulus funding became available. Key West will spend the existing allocation and is currently in the middle of a multi-million dollar stormwater and wastewater upgrade. If it gets to the Keys, thanks to our Senators (and no thanks to Ileana), the additional $45 million will be spent.

Some suggest that partisan politics is behind what Congresswoman Ileana Ros-Lehtinen (R-FL) is thinking. Like all House Republicans, Ileana toed the party line and voted against the stimulus bill (she voted for the bank bailout bill). It's a shame, however, if Congresswoman Ileana Ros-Lehtinen (R-FL) is abandoning the constituents in her own district just to make a political point. Regardless of the source of those federal funds, people in the Keys need that additional $45 million in stimulus money, at least as much as the banks and insurance companies needed the federal bailout she supported.

Sometimes – hell, all of the time – people need to come before party in this country. Both of our Senators got that one right. As a former elected official, I worked with Ileana on local issues and have always considered her a friend of the Keys. She's the only member of Congress I have known personally, and I get no pleasure out of writing this column. After all is said and done, it would have been great to have had Congresswoman Ileana Ros-Lehtinen (R-FL) join with our Senators in requesting these funds. In the end, maybe we don't need her this time.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082036 2010-06-19T06:00:15-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:02-05:00 Keys Critters
Visitors to our islands (The Fabulous Florida Keys®) often notice that the various types of wildlife that inhabit these coral rocks are different that the species they have at home. No kidding. In that spirit, we here at Keys Disease Central are proud to present The Complete Simpleton's Guide to Keys Critters.

No guide like this would be worth the paper it is written upon without mention of the kind of wildlife that truly gets up close and personal with humans. Two species are the common mosquito (Corpuscleus suckupitus) and the no-see-um (Damnitus irritatus). These insects desire what you are not necessarily inclined to share; namely, your blood. But take a moment and look at it from the insect's perspective. The critters that normally offer their lifeblood to hungry mosquitoes and no-see-ums usually have fur or feathers in the way of their skin – not so easy for a small insect to navigate. But here comes the relatively hairless human to the islands, and bloodsucking insects of the tropics rejoice – to them, we're nothing more than all-you-can-eat blood buffets. To try and deter these insects from feasting upon us, humans have developed numerous types of repellents. My personal favorite is the coil that is ignited and burns for several seconds before our island humidity renders it useless. When they do work, however, the smell is reminiscent of the aroma of the thatch roof of your tiki hut slowly smoldering prior to total combustion.

Our avian friends certainly deserve mention in our guide. Many visitors notice that our birds are somewhat different than the bluebirds of happiness that inhabit most of the continental United States. First, we have our long-necked shore birds like the heron and the egret. These birds are often seen where the highway is close to water, and as such, egrets and herons are responsible for more traffic accidents that any other bird ("Look Myrtle! An egret is right here on the side of thSCREECHCRASHTINKLE!")

Pelicans are quite the popular local bird, but they have a downside: they're shameless beggars. It's sad to see what once was a proud fishing species being reduced to panhandling for fish scraps at docks. Let's remember the old saying: Give a bird a fish, you feed him for a day. Teach a bird to fish, and he drinks beer like the rest of us.

Other noteworthy local birds include our ospreys, hawks, and the occasional eagle. These raptors, or birds of prey, are exceptional creatures because they can catch and keep fish without any regard to size, weight, or slot limits. It can be very frustrating for a fisherman to watch an osprey carry off a prize fish. Yelling at the bird won't help, and you'll look like a freakin' idiot.

On Big Pine Key (and a few other "Lower" Keys), the protected Key Deer roam freely. A small sub-species of the common whitetail deer, the Key Deer have taken advantage of their isolation on our islands to evolve slowly into miniature versions of their former selves. This process is illustrated in the Discovery Channel documentary Honey, I Shrunk the Herd. It is illegal to feed the deer, which is why most of our Keys lawbreakers live on Big Pine Key.

Other endangered and protected species that call the Keys home include the Key Largo Wood Rat, the Key Largo Cotton Mouse, and the Lower Keys Marsh Rabbit. What people would consider pests "back home" are protected here in the Keys. Instead of D-Con, we have the DEP.

Unfortunately, the Keys have fallen victim to "invasive" or "exotic" species – creatures that did not originate here but that have found the Keys to be particularly habitable. Notable offenders include the green iguana, the Burmese python, the Gambian pouch rat, and the extra-large Canadian Speedo-wearing beach creature. Each of these species are threatening local wildlife, or perhaps just the view.

Finally, let's devote a few words to our friendly neighborhood scorpions. Normally, one would think that scorpions only inhabit desert-like climates. Not so! It seems that damp, humid, moldy piles of debris make the perfect scorpion hangout. Unlike the sand-colored scorpions of the desert, our scorpions are long and black. Many Keys residents say you haven't lived until you've stepped on a scorpion in your bare feet, or had one pop you in the hand when you're cleaning up that pile of garbage in the backyard.

Well, here we are at the end of the Guide, and no mention of land crabs or eastern diamondback rattlesnakes! Another time, perhaps. Sleep well…
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082035 2010-06-12T05:59:28-04:00 2020-01-10T14:33:01-05:00 Bumbling Principal
Well, here we are over 50 days after British Petroleum's Deepwater Horizon oil rig exploded, sending 11 workers to their deaths and unleashing an uncontrollable gusher of Louisiana "light sweet crude" oil into the Gulf of Mexico. Luckily, I'm here to report that it's been sealed off and that the worries are over, no problem, it's all cleaned up and life is back to normal.

Well, I'd like to report that. The real news is that the "cap" they put on the sawed-off pipe is capturing a "significant" amount of the leaking crude. A look at the live video feed shows "significant" amounts of crude still being released into the Gulf while people from Louisiana to the Florida Panhandle are watching their summer season, their fisheries, and their entire way of life ruined. Throughout the crisis, BP CEO Tony Hayward's calm and reassuring words have been inspirational to the people whose lives have been devastated and destroyed.

Well, I'd like to report that. Unfortunately, Mr. Hayward's words and deeds may go down in history as one of the biggest corporate FUBARs ever. Right after the spill, Hayward asked his fellow BP executives, "What the hell did we do to deserve this?" I'm sure the families of the 11 dead rig workers and the people of the Gulf Coast might be in a better position to ask that question than a CEO who earned more than $6 million in salary and bonuses last year. At least that was the only wrong thing he said.

Well, I'd like to report that. Mr. Hayward continued to issue forth amazing proclamations likely designed to minimize the perception of how bad things really were. On May 14, Hayward told a British newspaper, "The Gulf of Mexico is a very big ocean. The amount of volume of oil and dispersant we are putting into it is tiny in relation to the total water volume." That was before no end was in sight to this gusher that continues to pour crude into the Gulf, over 36 million gallons by a conservative estimate as of this past Thursday. Just four days later, as oil continued to bleed into the Gulf from the failed blowout preventer, Hayward reassured us as he said, "I think the environmental impact of this disaster is likely to be very, very modest." That same day, when asked by reporters if he could sleep at night knowing what was happening, Mr. Hayward replied, "Of course I can." After these gaffes, after getting quite used to the taste of his own foot, Tony Hayward finally grasped the severity of the situation and the ramifications of its long-term consequences.

Well, I'd like to report that. On May 31, as he attempted to issue an apology for BP's role in the disaster, Mr. Hayward uttered the now infamous quote he'll be remembered for long after the flow of oil is finally stopped: "I would like my life back." Well, Tony, guess what? So would the 11 deceased oil rig workers. So would the myriad birds and sea creatures that have perished as a result of oil contamination. The people in Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi, and Florida would like their summer season back. Gulf Coast fishermen would like their fisheries and their livelihoods back. Speaking on behalf of the millions of us who are affected in one way or another, I WOULD LIKE MY GULF BACK!

The latest news is that BP still plans to pay out dividends to its shareholders, the company suggesting that it can handle all the costs of cleanup and claims and still afford the dividend payments. Keep in mind that American corporations and British corporations differ on their dividend philosophy. According to UK's Guardian, "British investors view dividends less as a one-off reward than as the price of maintaining access to the capital markets." Still, the payment of $10 billion in dividends sends the wrong signal to all those here awaiting cleanup and claims payments. Given its track record, however, BP doing the right thing seems as likely as Elton John playing at Rush Limbaugh's wedding… oh. He did?!? Wow.

At least regional fishing magazines aren't doing stupid economy-killing stuff like publishing altered oil-ruined shore photos with Photoshopped grossly enlarged dead beached sail catfish on their covers… oh. It must be another graduate of the Tony Hayward Business School.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082034 2010-06-05T05:58:31-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:59-05:00 Social Studies
The latest "Big Thing" to hit the Wonderful World of the InterWebs is the idea we now call "social networking." MySpace was the pioneer social networking hub; its unfriendly interface, however, was unappealing to many users. (This is a columnist's way of saying that he, personally, never liked MySpace.) A MySpace user can add as many friends as he or she wants, and can customize his or her site with strange backgrounds that never align with anything else on the page.

Then came Twitter. One can post anything he or she wants to, so long as the message, or "tweet" in Twitterese, doesn't exceed 140 characters. Of course, tweets can only be read by "followers" of the tweet poster, so the idea is to establish a Twitter account, and then solicit as many followers as possible. Politicians love Twitter. In fact, it's a great way to tell if your Representative or Senator is actually casting votes on bills, or simply tweeting about what's wrong in Washington.

The most popular of all the social networking sites is Facebook. For those three of you out there unfamiliar with Facebook, it's like Twitter with pictures. And very stupid time-wasting games. Unlike any other networking site, however, Facebook allows its users to poke and be poked. If you've never poked someone online, well…

After you establish your Facebook account, you can publish as much or as little information about yourself as you wish. It seems that most people today, in these times of identity theft and online privacy concerns, publish just about everything about themselves with the possible exception of their Social Security number! Date of birth… hometown… current city… education and job experience… interests… and whether you're "in a relationship," "single," "married," or "it's complicated" are all pieces of information you can choose to share with your Facebook "friends," or anyone else who searches you out. In fact, Facebook is the number one method for all those people you went to high school with and never wanted to hear from again to find you and "friend" you. The good news is that you can "unfriend" someone on Facebook as well.

Photos are a key component of Facebook. There seems to be no limit on how many photos, organized into "albums," you can post for friends to see. Post photos of yourself, your weekend, your getaway, your car, your trip to Wal-Mart, your boring job, your new chair – heck, you can even post a photo of your Social Security card! Facebook photos are the number one way we know we wouldn't recognize most people we went to high school with if we saw them on the street. (That's what he looks like now?!? Wow…)

For those people with too much spare time (and they seem to number in the millions), there are games like Bejeweled Blitz, Mafia Wars, and my favorite, FarmVille. The object of FarmVille, near as I can tell because I've never played the game, is to "work" on your virtual farm by planting virtual plants and caring for virtual animals. Until you learn the secret of turning off game updates in your "News Feed," every one of your friends who plays FarmVille will generate updates of lost farm animals who are sad and need a new home and won't you adopt them? There are lost brown cows, lost black cows, lost ugly ducklings, lost black sheep, and more, all looking to find a new home. (I wonder if there's a FarmVille farm that will turn the lost cows into virtual hamburgers.)

You can ask your FarmVille friends for help, "sell" them your crops, even (I believe) ask for virtual fertilizer (now there's a concept!). You can even post "photos" of your farm into your very own FarmVille photo album. And we wonder why our modern society is less productive. Microsoft's "Solitaire" finally has real competition in the Workplace Wasting of Time department.

I can only imagine what might happen if all the "work" being done in virtual FarmVille farms were actually being performed on real farms. We would likely solve the world's hunger problems with all the crops being grown… at the expense of having sad lonely lost brown cows roaming our neighborhoods looking for adoptive homes.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082033 2010-05-29T05:57:28-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:57-05:00 BP
There is nothing funny about the oil spill disaster in the Gulf of Mexico.

Every day, there seems to be worse and worse news about BP (Beyond Patience, Bastard Polluters, Beached Petroleum, Basically Pathetic) and their Deepwater Horizon oil gusher. As I type the words for this column, the "top kill" operation of pumping mud into the broken well goes on, hopefully with a successful outcome. Unfortunately, news sources are already calling this the worst oil spill in U.S. history.

Louisiana is getting virtually no help from the BP or the government. Governor Bobby Jindal has been beside himself in trying to protect his beaches and estuaries while waiting for an Army Corps permit. Were I in his shoes, I'm not sure I'd have waited for the Feds to allow me to protect my shores.

The entire northern Gulf fishing industry faces extinction. The destructive impact on wildlife is just beginning, and will only get worse with each passing day. Beach towns from Louisiana to the Panhandle, instead of getting ready for the summer season, are looking at cancelled bookings and an economic as well as an ecological disaster. And still, over a month after the spill began, BP's response has been nothing short of woefully inadequate. Toxic dispersants and virtually no cleanup efforts at all are making things even worse. You know it's bad when a Shell Oil executive comes on TV and tells the news audience how bad BP is screwing things up.

Here in the Keys, we seem to be still facing a much brighter future than that which befalls the northern Gulf states. There is, however, a great deal of uncertainty as to what effects (if any) the Keys will feel. What we don't need, however, are fear-mongering and rumor reporting in the media.

A local daily newspaper reported on a recent report of an oil "plume" near Key West, one of several false reports the Coast Guard has received. Most of these, according to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, have turned out to be "cloud shadows, algae blooms and sargassum weed lines." This particular plume was spotted by a charter captain and estimated to be over 80 feet long and ten feet below the surface – a rather large plume. Yet when a bucket was lowered to collect a sample, "the substance dispersed." Let me get this straight: an 80' plume of oil survives a 500-mile trip through the Gulf of Mexico, travels in a direction counter to where the currents are taking everything else, and manages to get to Key West… but when it encounters a bucket lowered from a fishing boat, it vanishes. Come on.

Just as newsworthy (not!) was the large color photo of the tiny tarball from Big Pine Key that landed on the front page of a local semi-weekly news outlet. It was the size of a wad of used chewing gum with some sand and other detritus attached to it. It was as ecologically significant as a solitary fart in the atmosphere, yet there it was on the front page. Funny, isn't it, that none of the tarballs found in the Keys have proven to come from the BP gusher?

I grew up in Florida back in the 1960s and 70s. I've lived in the Keys since 1984. I used to frequent beaches on both the Atlantic and Gulf shores as well as those of our own islands. I can tell you from decades of personal experience that tarballs are not a new phenomenon for Florida beaches. All it takes is for a tanker or large vessel to flush its bilge, and tarballs are beach-bound. We might very well get tarballs from the BP gusher at some point. IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD.

The real and verifiable good news for the Keys is that the Loop Current has kept shifting farther west. NOAA charts and forecast maps keep the limited amount of oil/sheen/tarballs that might have ventured near the Loop Current W-A-A-A-Y-Y west of the Keys. Nowhere near us. But the fear mongers won't be happy until everyone here is petrified with dread over our certain demise.

I, for one, will not stick my head in the sand and be paralyzed into inaction. Memorial Day weekend is here, and we do have a summer season ahead of us. Let's continue to monitor the situation and deal with whatever may (or may not) happen here. Let's be willing, as many Keys people are, to lend a helping hand to our Gulf neighbors. And let's deal with reality as opposed to irrational panic.

It's either that, or will the last person to leave the Keys please turn off the water?
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082032 2010-05-22T05:56:08-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:56-05:00 Across the Pond
I've always been partial to good British humor (humour?). I'm especially fond of the Monty Python stuff, particularly Monty Python and the Holy Grail ("Who are you so wise in the ways of science?") Even when people aren't trying to be funny in Great Britain, they are oftentimes very amusing. My friend Wayne "Mac" McCormick from the UK recently sent me an e-mail with actual complaints from proper Brits, many of which I'll repeat here so that I may fill up a column.

Tenants in housing often have issues and complaints for their landlords. What makes the British complaints different from the American complaints is how they're worded. For example, in America, if the toilet doesn't work, we call the landlord and say, "The (expletive deleted) toilet doesn't work!" Across the pond, one might handle the same complaint in a much different fashion: "Sometime before I shuffle off this mortal coil, if it's not too much trouble, I'd fancy a crap in my own working loo. Without further ado, here are some actual UK tenant complaints. Please imagine these spoken in a fine British accent.

1. My bush is really overgrown round the front and my back passage has fungus growing in it. (I won't touch this one.)

2. He's got this huge tool that vibrates the whole house and I just can't take it anymore.

3. It's the dogs' mess that I find hard to swallow. (Just wash it down with water.)

4. I want some repairs done to my cooker as it has backfired and burnt my knob off.

5. Their 18-year-old son is continually banging his balls against my fence. (That's gotta hurt!)

6. I wish to report that tiles are missing from the outside toilet roof. I think it was bad wind the other night that blew them off.

7. My lavatory seat is cracked, where do I stand? (Huh…?)

8. I am writing on behalf of my sink, which is coming away from the wall.

9. Will you please send someone to mend the garden path? My wife tripped and fell on it yesterday, and now she is pregnant. (Well, at least we now know what causes that.)

10. I request permission to remove my drawers in the kitchen. (Whatever turns you on, dude.)

11. 50% of the walls are damp, 50% have crumbling plaster and 50% are plain filthy. (Good counting, Einstein!)

12. The toilet is blocked and we cannot bathe the children until it is cleared. (I don't even want to know what they use the sinks for.)

13. Our lavatory seat is broken in half and is now in three pieces. (This person was in the same math class as Einstein above.)

14. This is to let you know that our lavatory seat is broke and we can't get BBC 2.

It's not just tenant-landlord complaints that Mac sent me. Here are some actual newspaper story excerpts that found their way to the UK press:

- Commenting on a complaint from a Mr. Arthur Purdey about a large gas bill, a spokesman for North West Gas said, "We agree it was rather high for the time of year. It's possible Mr. Purdey has been charged for the gas used up during the explosion that destroyed his house." (The Daily Telegraph)

- Irish police are being handicapped in a search for a stolen van, because they cannot issue a description. It's a Special Branch vehicle and they don't want the public to know what it looks like. (The Guardian)

- At the height of the gale, the harbourmaster radioed a coastguardsman and asked him to estimate the wind speed. He replied he was sorry, but he didn't have a gauge. However, if it was any help, the wind had just blown his Land Rover off the cliff. (Aberdeen Evening Express)

- Mrs. Irene Graham of Thorpe Avenue, Boscombe, delighted the audience with her reminiscence of the German prisoner of war who was sent each week to do her garden. He was repatriated at the end of 1945, she recalled. "He'd always seemed a nice friendly chap, but when the crocuses came up in the middle of our lawn in February 1946, they spelt out 'Heil Hitler.'" (Bournemouth Evening Echo)
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082031 2010-05-15T05:55:14-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:54-05:00 Let's Get Gassed
There's good news: it seems that the better of the two oil pollution scenarios for the Keys (that I wrote about in last week's column) is the one that is playing out. The Loop Current in the Gulf of Mexico is moving farther south and away from the oil slick, which is being driven westward because of the prevailing easterlies. Most scientists are now in agreement that it's increasingly less likely that we'll see an oil slick disaster here in the Keys. (And we're incredibly lucky that the Deepwater Horizon rig didn't blow earlier in the year when all the cold fronts that came our way would have carried the oil right to our island shores.)

While it's a huge sense of relief that the oil isn't headed our way, it's hard to find anything humorous at all about this environmental disaster. Leave it to former Marathon Mayor Chris Bull to provide a little levity – he forwarded an order form for a new British Petroleum T-shirt with the new BP slogan: "Bringing Oil to American Shores." And that's no Bull.

The slogan, "Drill, baby, drill!" has now morphed into, "Spill, baby, spill!" Sooner or later (probably sooner than any of us would like), our global society will face the reality that our petroleum reserves aren't limitless, and that we need to develop an alternative to the oil we consume. It's a drain on our economy, it has cost thousands of American lives in Middle Eastern wars, and we all know just how good it is for the environment.

Electric cars are touted as a potential alternative, and the concept does sound promising. It's how the cars get their juice (coal- and oil-fired power plants?) and keep it (expensive and not-too-long-lasting battery technology) that are problematic.

At least for our automobiles, we might start seriously considering Compressed Natural Gas (CNG). We have a 50-year supply of CNG right here in our own country, which means we wouldn't have to import it from some foreign nation that can't stand us. Existing cars could be converted for CNG use (although very expensive now, the conversion kits would become cheaper as more and more cars were converted). New cars would already be manufactured to run on CNG or gasoline. Gas stations would really be "gas" stations, and fuel costs would come down, perhaps significantly compared with oil and gasoline. And CNG burns much cleaner than petroleum, so it's more environmentally friendly as well. This could be our "bridge" fuel that will enable us to develop electric cars that actually work, as well as power plants (wind and solar) that aren't dependent upon coal or oil. And we reduce emissions as a nice side effect.

Speaking of gas emissions, did you know that the average cow expels (through burps and flatulence) up to 400 pounds of methane gas every year? As a greenhouse gas, methane traps 20 times more heat than does carbon dioxide, and the United Nations has called livestock one of the most serious near-term threats to the global climate. That's right – cows may be more dangerous to the planet that all of our cars, trucks, boats, planes, and buses.

Obviously, we can't outlaw or "phase out" cows. But we might be able to treat the cause of the cow gas. Cows are ruminants, with special digestive systems that enable them to get nutrition from plant fibers. Before we started feeding cows soy and corn, they mostly ate grass. Scientists are researching what would happen to the cows' methane output if they were fed something closer to their original food source. The goal, according to the research arm of the American dairy industry, is to reduce cow methane emissions by 25% by the end of the next decade.

It's either that, or perhaps we retrofit all our cows with methane capture devices (cattle-lytic converters?) in order to protect our environment. Then we use the captured cow methane to power our CNG cars so we can go through our favorite burger joint's drive-thru and start the cycle all over again. Then we can call our cars broken wind powered.

At least our cows won't explode in the Gulf of Mexico…
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082030 2010-05-08T05:53:45-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:52-05:00 Oil & Water (and a little beer)
On April 20, the British Petroleum Deepwater Horizon oil rig blew up and sank, killing 11 people and causing an oil spill that will likely result in millions of gallons of light Louisiana crude oil fouling the Gulf of Mexico, myriad species of sea life, shorelines, and commercial fishing interests. As a result, recent headlines in all the local news outlets asked the question on all our minds: will the Brass Monkey survive?

The good news for all of us is, YES – the honchos at Winn Dixie learned quickly not to come between Keys people and their favorite watering holes. The Brass Monkey (a true local family-owned business) will carry on, and there will be a Christmas (in July) this year. Not only that, but Winn Dixie comes out as a hero in all of this as well, assuring that the Brass Monkey will have a home in the plaza for years to come, and by springing for the burgers and dogs at the non-picket picnic and Brass Monkey Street Fair.

Now that this matter is settled, let's turn to what might happen here in the Keys as a result of this ever-expanding oil slick. More recent local headlines suggest that we're screwed. Others say we have nothing to really worry about. Perhaps, like me, you're wondering just who knows what the hell they're talking about. Although I didn't stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night, I was a marine biology major in college, and I have a passing familiarity with ocean currents and other pertinent stuff. Anyway, here are the divergent scenarios being presented by the experts.

A University of Miami oceanography professor identified as either Nick Shay or Lynn Keith Shay (depending upon which paper you might have read), and University of South Florida oceanographer Robert Weisberg are our Chicken Little/Channel 7 scientists. Their scenarios range from it could conceivably happen to the Keys (Shay) to "It is imminent" (Weisberg). These scientists postulate that sooner or later, the slick will be pushed far south enough to be picked up by an eddy that feeds into the Loop Current, the current that takes warm Gulf waters and channels them into the Gulf Stream that passes close to the Keys. Local sea life will suffer, the mangroves are in grave danger, and we're doomed.

The other scenario comes courtesy of Eric Chassignet, director of the Center for Ocean Atmospheric Prediction Studies at Florida State University. Chassignet sees little chance that any real quantity of the oil could show up in Keys waters. Even though his message is infinitely preferable to the Shay/Weisberg scenario, that wouldn't be enough for his message to get any press were there not any real science behind the potential good news.

According to Chassignet, the Loop Current is moving south – farther away from the slick – as it does this time of the year. NOAA computer models confirm that the Loop Current will be 200-300 miles away, and that the chance of any part of the slick being blown that far south is a slim chance indeed. Chassignet's findings seem to be confirmed by Doug Helton, NOAA's incident operations coordinator from the oil rig explosion site. Helton believes that there won't be any winds strong enough to push the slick to the Loop Current. Chassignet also believes that even if the slick somehow manages to get as far south as the eddy, that the eddy current won't be strong enough to push the oil into the Loop Current.

It's no huge surprise that I (along with most other thinking Keys people) prefer the Chassignet scenario. I really hope (and believe) that his science is better than Shay's and Weisberg's. Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do but sit and wait and get our hair cut. In case you missed this headline, salons around the nation are collecting hair clippings because human hair is a very effective way to clean up and absorb oil spills. Who knew? Those who did can also tell us that the practice of using hair clippings to absorb oil started after the Exxon Valdez spill in 1989.

So as we wait with bated breath and shorn locks for what may or may not be coming our way, at least the Brass Monkey remains open for us to just chill with a cocktail and forget about things for a while.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082029 2010-05-01T07:18:35-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:50-05:00 Stupid Is As Stupid Says
Former Vice President Dan Quayle had books of his famous quotations published (something to which our current VP seems to aspire). Quayle had the dubious talent of uttering some of the funniest unintentional things ever spoken. I've devoted prior columns to our former VP in years past, so this column will tackle a few other famous extemporaneous utterances. Let's begin with a comment made by the man who won the election part of the 2000 presidential selection process. Former Vice President Al Gore has uttered some classics throughout the years. "When my sister and I were growing up," Mr. Gore told a small audience made up mostly of women, "there was never any doubt in our minds that men and women were equal, if not more so." How is one more equal? And while criticizing Dub-ya, Gore actually said, "A zebra does not change its spots." Hmm. Gore's former boss (Bill Clinton) actually said, "Politics gives guys so much power that they tend to behave badly around women. And I hope I never get into that." Oops! Another classic from Dub-ya's dad: "I have opinions of my own – strong opinions – but I don't always agree with them." And this: "It's no exaggeration to say that the undecided could go one way or another." Bob Dole once had this to say, "You read what Disraeli had to say. I don't remember what he said. He said something. He's no longer with us." And the former Pepsi/Viagra spokesman also had this to add: "The Internet is a great way to get on the net." Wally Hickel, one of Sarah Palin's predecessors as Governor of Alaska, actually said, "You can't just let nature run wild." Palin might be inclined to agree, especially while taking aim at a moose from a helicopter. But it's not just politicians. Our lower level bureaucrats make their share of language laughs. A letter from the IRS had these actual instructions to a taxpayer: "Please provide the date of your death." And how about this helpful (and likely federally-mandated) warning: "CAUTION: Knife is very sharp. Keep out of children." That's just plain good advice, like this warning from a Batman costume for kids: "Caution: Cape does not enable user to fly." Sometimes government officials say incredible things when attempting to debut a new device, like this classic from former FCC Chairman Mark S. Fowler: "If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record." Navy Rear Admiral James R. Hogg offered this brilliant observation: "The people in the Navy look on motherhood as being compatible with being a woman." Thank God – I was beginning to have questions! Even the Duke himself, John Wayne, came up with this gem: "I don't feel we did wrong in taking this great country away from them. There were great numbers of people who needed new land, and the Indians were selfishly trying to keep it for themselves." That socialist! Brooke Shields said once while auditioning to become an anti-cancer spokesperson, "Smoking kills, and if you die, you've lost an important part of your life." Little did we know she had so much in common with Senator Barbara Boxer from California: "Those who survived the San Francisco earthquake said, 'Thank God, I'm still alive.' But, of course, those who died, their lives will never be the same again." Newspapers make their share of goofs, especially in their headlines, like this one from the Cincinnati Times-Star: "Most Lies About Blondes Are False." Or from the Cleveland Daily News, "Supreme Court Rules That Murderers Shall Not Be Electrocuted Twice For The Same Crime." And a headline in the Columbus Dispatch proudly proclaimed, "Lack Of Brains Hinders Research." One of the great newspaper quotes was this correction, made in a British publication called the Ely Standard: "We apologize for the error in last week's paper in which we stated that Mr. Arnold Dogbody was a defective in the police force. We meant, of course, that Mr. Dogbody is a detective in the police farce." It can be really amusing to read other people's goofs and gaffes, but let's keep in mind that many of these quotes were made in the heat of the moment, sometimes under high-pressure situations. Some are simple oversight. Others, no doubt, were definite examples of genuine idiocy. Perhaps we should wrap this up with a very telling quote from Albert Einstein: "Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082028 2010-04-24T07:14:45-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:47-05:00 Physical Graffiti
While performing a certain bodily function within the confines of a men's restroom, I couldn't help but notice, right before my eyes, inscribed within a hastily-drawn heart on the wall above the urinal for all to see: "Dave & Dawn '03." I couldn't help but wonder at how much love this man Dave must have felt for his beloved Dawn. So much love, that while performing a certain bodily function, he was compelled to take pen in hand (the other hand) and scrawl his message so that other guys performing that same bodily function would read of his unending devotion to Dawn. I was moved. I could also sense that there had been other movements in that same room, although I'm sure that not all of them were related. Dave's labor of love reminded me of other bathroom graffiti I have seen in the past. In addition to the usual "For a good time, call..." there have been some quite clever inscriptions, some of which I'll share with you here. Next to the hand blow dryer: "Push button for 2-minute speech by Richard Nixon." And above the toilet: "Bill Gates downloads here." Sign in a swimming pool restroom: "We don't swim in your toilet. Please don't pee in our pool." Sign above a toilet: "We aim to please. You aim too, please!" Written on the condom machine: "Don't buy this gum – it tastes like rubber." Sign on the inside of a toilet stall: "Patrons are requested to remain seated for the entire performance." And a sign in a local restroom: "Employees must wash hands. If employees are unavailable, please wash your own hands." Written on the interior of a toilet stall door: "Congratulations! You've won a free game of Toilet Tennis! Look left!" Written on the left stall wall: "Look right!" Written on the right stall wall: "Look left!" You may want to try and actually visualize this happening to someone. Written on a since-remodeled local restroom wall: "Dyslexics of the world: Untie!" This one seen in a school restroom: "Flush twice – this has to go all the way to the cafeteria!" Written in a restroom years ago: "Question authority." And right beneath it: "Why?" In a convenience store restroom: "To some, it's a six-pack. To me, it's a support group." And in a public restroom stall: "I feel so strongly about bathroom graffiti, I signed a partition." Above a urinal in a local restroom: "Rehab is for quiters." Right beneath it: "And for bad spelers." I swear I am not making this up. Here is some more actual bathroom graffiti from around this great nation of ours. From a men's room in Arizona: "To do is to be. –Descartes. To be is to do. –Voltaire. Do be do be do. –Frank Sinatra." And this from another Arizona location: "It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere." And from Armand's Pizza in Washington, D.C.: "If life is a waste of time and time is a waste of life, then let's all get wasted together and have the time of our lives." The battle of the sexes is always a hot topic on restroom walls. Consider this gem found over a women's restroom mirror: "You're too good for him." And this from the women's room in (I swear) Dick's Last Resort in Dallas: "If it has tires or testicles, you're going to have trouble with it." Men, don't feel slighted. Here are some slightly abridged words of wisdom from Linda's Bar & Grill in North Carolina: "No matter how good she looks, some other guy is sick and tired of putting up with her crap." And one to which both sexes can relate, from a women's restroom in Montana: "Make love, not war. Hell, do both – get married!" None of us here at Keys Disease Central actually suggest that anyone reading this column go out and start defacing restroom walls with a Sharpie. Besides, many public restrooms have come a long way in terms of cleanliness, appearance, fixtures, and those few automated motion-sensing paper towel dispensers that actually dispense enough paper towel footage sufficient to dry one's hands. When it comes to bathroom graffiti, it is far better to read than deface. Just write your message on the paper towels instead.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082027 2010-04-17T07:11:43-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:46-05:00 Death and Taxes
Way back in the 1980s and 90s, Roy McAdams and I were the components of a musical duo called Death & Taxes. Being the only two sure things, I thought the name was the perfect moniker for an act that featured two sick senses of humor. Plus, my willingness to be Death ensured I had top billing in the act! But we're not here today to talk about me. Au contraire, it's Roy's – I mean Taxes – turn in the barrel. This past Thursday was April 15, the dreaded day that all extensions for filing your federal tax return must be filed. This is a busy time for CPAs, attorneys, and those "tax professionals" we all hear about in disclaimers for contributions that may be "tax deductible" – but please consult your tax professional. Here at Keys Disease Central, we were lucky enough to interview a respected tax professional, noted economist Dr. Tardon Feather, from the University of Eastern Florida's School of Economics. We put some of the most frequently asked questions as found on the official IRS website (irs.gov) for Dr. Feather's unique perspective on the issues. Q: What are the tax changes for this year? A: Actually, there are over 1,700 tax changes for this year, and not even a noted economist like myself can keep up with them. That's why we all buy the latest tax software packages, even though they are compiled months in advance and don't have all the changes in them. Of course, you could just follow the IRS's official answer and look in the "What's New" section of your tax return package. Q: Is there an age limit on claiming my children as dependents? A: As always, this question has a number of possible answers. Are your adult children deadbeat unemployed slackers who sit around and watch TV and don't do anything to try and become a productive member of society? One could convincingly argue that these wasters of perfectly good breathable oxygen are indeed still dependents who haven't yet detached themselves from the parental teat. If, however, you are claiming your dog as a dependent, please remember that each human year is actually seven dog years, and that the IRS doesn't look kindly upon four-year-old and over pooch deductions. For ferrets and other animals, please refer to IRS Form OU-812, Non-Farm Method for Animal Age Calculations. Q: If I claim my daughter as a dependent because she is a full-time college student, can she claim herself as a dependent when she files her return? A: This is the kind of convoluted question that keeps tax professionals like myself employed. It's like asking an actual stupid tourist question like "Is the water bluer on the Gulf side, or on the Ocean side?" Or like the tourist who took several empty jars with her on her jetski trip, because she saw the different colors of water from the air and wanted to bring a sample of each color back. But I digress – the correct answer to the question is nobody really knows. Q: What should I do if I made a mistake on my federal return that I have already filed? A: Go immediately to the house of worship of your choice, fall on your knees, and pray to save your soul. When you have finished praying, go to your computer and download IRS Form I4-GOT. If the mistake on your original return caused an underpayment of taxes, you will be liable for the balance due, plus penalties and interest. If the mistake caused you to overpay your tax liability, only penalties and interest will be due. Q: How much does an unmarried dependent student have to make before he or she has to file an income tax return? A: An annual income greater than or equal to $5.12. Q: I retired last year, and started receiving Social Security payments. Do I have to pay taxes on my Social Security benefits? A: Yes. It's the government's way of getting you on both the front and back ends. The benefits you're collecting are from the taxes you paid from your income. Now that those taxes collected are coming back to you as benefits, it's both ironic and amusing that the government sees fit to tax them again. Funny how that works, isn't it? Q: Any final words of advice? A: Don't believe everything you read in this column to be IRS-sanctioned good advice – please consult your tax professional.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082026 2010-04-11T18:28:56-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:45-05:00 Forget the Final Frontier?
The more things change, the more they stay the same. I suppose I should just give up hope that our elected officials may one day show that they have some kind of a vision for the future, because in some ways, it's like the early 1970s playing out all over again. Just like a tired old rerun, Washington continues to show an all-too-familiar lack of leadership when it comes to the space program. I was a Space Coast kid from the 1960s. My dad really was a rocket scientist – he worked for the Chrysler Corporation on the Apollo/Saturn IB program. Even though there were political forces to reckon with back then (can anyone remember why Mission Control ended up being located in Houston, so far away from the Cape Canaveral launch site?), at least there was a unifying vision of where we needed to go, and a time frame of how soon we needed to be there. And we got there – the moon – thanks to hopes and dreams and engineers using slide rules. What we also had were good old-fashioned reliable liquid-fueled boosters that just worked. The Apollo/Saturn IB combination was reliable, and technologically superior to the Soviets' Soyuz spacecraft. And the Saturn V was THE heavy-lift booster that not only got us to the moon, but also could have been used to really expedite the construction of the International Space Station... had it still been available. Don't even get me started about how we totally wasted further research opportunities when we allowed Skylab to fall back to Earth. Unfortunately, President Nixon killed the Apollo/Saturn program, leaving three moon missions on the table, dooming Skylab, and abandoning America's superior and reliable manned launch vehicles in favor of this political kludge that became the Space Shuttle. Like most other rockets, the Shuttle was built of components made by the lowest bidders. Unlike other manned launch systems, however, the Shuttle design was compromised along the way with the addition of solid rocket boosters (basically Roman candles that can't be shut off once ignited) and no escape mechanism for the astronauts on board. Far from a reliable "space truck," the Shuttle is a very complex and very expensive launch vehicle that has, arguably, exceeded its original life span. Right now, however, the Space Shuttle is our only way of getting people and decent sized payloads into Earth orbit and to the International Space Station. And with only three scheduled flights remaining, we're about to lose it. The successor to the Space Shuttle was supposed to be NASA's Constellation program, featuring the Ares I and Ares V boosters and a larger Apollo-like command and service module assembly. It seems that last October's test flight of the Ares I-X may have been in vain; the Obama administration is poised to abandon the program in favor of using commercial manned and cargo launch vehicles (none of which have been flight tested yet), or just hitching a ride with the Russians, who still fly the same Soyuz spacecraft they were flying in the 1960s and 1970s (which is what we could still be doing reliably with Apollo/Saturn technology). Even the Chinese have put people into space with their own launch vehicles. This will leave the United States – the most technologically advanced nation both on and off the planet – without a way to get astronauts into and back from space. Not only that, but there doesn't seem to be any sort of plan or vision as to America's future in space. There is talk that Congress may vote to extend the life of the Space Shuttle a few years until we have another option, but without real leadership from Washington, we will no longer be leaders in space. The Constellation/Ares program wouldn't be ready for manned flight until 2016 in the best-case scenario, with 2019 being a more likely target. The other private sector options still aren't flight-ready and have encountered delays. Not to mention that the cancellation of the Space Shuttle program will have serious economic repercussions and loss of jobs in Florida and elsewhere. While some may argue that space flight is a luxury we can do without during tough economic times, I argue that the benefits to humankind have far outweighed the costs in so many areas from technology to medicine and beyond. Besides, when one looks at what the government has wasted billions on over the past ten years, the entire space budget is but a drop in the bucket. And now certainly is not the time for America to hand over our leadership role in space science to someone else. But we need a vision that will set America's course into the future, one that includes the ability for us to get people into and back from space. If we don't outline that vision, if we just say, "Forget the Final Frontier," then the Russians and the Chinese will become the world's premiere space powers. And we'll be able to visit our rockets in museums and reflect on our glory days.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082025 2010-04-01T19:10:20-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:44-05:00 El Niño Grows Up?
As we all hopefully know by now, the next potential event destined to trigger mass hysteria is the end of the world – actually, the end of the Mayan calendar in December 2012. Scientists have speculated on what might happen, conspiracy theorists are promulgating theories as fast as they can in the remaining two and a half years we have left, and big screen disaster movies have been made showing that the only survivor left will be Hollywood actor John Cusack. This year's wacky winter has left a lot of people wondering about global warming and climate change. Our record cold winter has not much to do with climate change, however; the persistent strong El Niño in the equatorial Pacific Ocean is the real culprit. Those high Pacific sea surface temperatures that signify an El Niño event are responsible for both the quiet Atlantic hurricane season we had last year and this year's record cold. But just as the United States is coming out of one of the coldest winters in recent memory, Canada has experienced one of the warmest winters ever, just in time for the 2010 Winter Olympics. While Florida was freezing, and while 49 out of 50 states had snow on the ground, they had to actually truck in snow for Olympic events. This caused me to look a little more closely at what some scientists are saying about 2012, and how this might relate to the strong El Niño and the strange weather we've been having. There already are predictions for increased solar flare and sunspot activity for – you guessed it – 2012. The last time this happened was in the early 20th Century, long before our electronic, digital, and satellite world existed. Major solar flare activity could wreak havoc on our communications system and knock out large portions of the world's power grids for long periods of time. Some scientists postulate that there might be a shift in the Earth's poles and magnetic field that could involve an actual flip of the poles, or a relocation of the poles and a shift of the Earth's axis. I discussed these topics with Nat Strayhorn from the Key West National Weather Service office. While he didn't want to be alarmist and cause undue concern, he told me off the record that scientists are looking into the possibility that El Niño – the baby – is "growing up," or becoming a more permanent fixture on the planet. The possibility exists that "El Niño" may be renamed "El Joven" – The Youth. So how does El Niño's continued presence relate to larger climate change models and some of the 2012 predictions? Strayhorn introduced me to the lead researcher in global climatology, Dr. Rick O'Shea from the National University of Ireland in Galway. Dr. O'Shea theorizes that a continued strong El Niño does indeed point to a possible relocation of the Earth's poles. The fact that the Mid-Atlantic States and the eastern seaboard had a brutal winter and were covered with snow much of the time, combined with the fact that Canada (located much closer to the North Pole) had one of the warmest winters ever, suggest to him that the North Pole might be shifting to somewhere between Virginia and New York. According to Dr. O'Shea, this phenomenon, known as the Polar Icecap Shift Syndrome, is in complete agreement with the Oceanic Flow Fundamentals computer model that predicts ocean currents and sea surface temperatures. Also, increased solar flare activity, especially during the summer months of 2012 when the North Polar icecap is tilted toward the sun, could affect the relocation of the pole by December of that year. This polar shift could cause some upheavals of the plates that make up the Earth's crust, or it may not, according to O'Shea. We would know more by April 1, 2012, if the climatological and oceanic models start lining up in agreement. Still, as we approach the doomsday year of 2012, I bet we all become a little more familiar with those two acronyms for the Polar Icecap Shift Syndrome (P.I.S.S.) and the Oceanic Flow Fundamentals model (O.F.F.). And I'll certainly be watching out for the headlines on April 1, 2012 to see if any of these predictions have a snowball's chance in Canada of coming true.
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082024 2010-03-27T19:10:33-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:43-05:00 Heads In Beds – Coming Soon to a Theater Near You
The catchphrase our local Tourist Development Council uses when speaking about numbers of tourists is "heads in beds." I have always derived a bit of amusement from the phrase, as it seems to describe not only a tourism goal, but also a bloody dismemberment scene in a horror flick. Perhaps the two otherwise divergent ideas could be combined. Imagine the interest in the Keys after Americans on the mainland saw the horrific new motion picture: "Jason's back, and he's on vacation in the Keys! Friday the 13th Part XIII – Heads In Beds!!!" (Cue bloodcurdling scream.) Well, whatever. Those of us who remain here year-round are all too familiar with the fall slowdown known as the dreaded "off-season" (a horrific concept to the local business owner). Just like our TDC, I've been trying to think outside the box and come up with some interesting ideas to help our locals make money during the off-season. Here are some of my concepts, although I don't guarantee that any of them will actually work. During the month of September (August and October are good months, too), we could market the Keys to those thrill seekers looking for the adventure they never had: "Experience A Real Live Hurricane!! Book ahead to insure your reservation during Peak Hurricane Season in the Fabulous Florida Keys!" Events could include the Middle Keys Tropical Weather Golf Tournament (played with long metal clubs outdoors during electrical storms), Pin The Eye On The Hurricane contests in local bars, and exciting, lively keynote speeches by Jim Cantore and his phalanx of actual Weather Channel hurricane experts. Of course, we could never guarantee to our visitors that a hurricane would show up during their stay (and let's hope that this year's season is as inactive as last year's!). If they show up in dire need of hot, humid, blustery, windy conditions spinning around a vortex that sucks, however, we could just send them to a local government meeting! Speaking of drinking (technically, we weren't, but local government meetings are known to heighten the urge to pound down a few), it comes as no big surprise that liquor companies are advertising relentlessly during the economic slowdown. I'd like to offer a few suggestions, if I could, about how a couple of brands could improve their marketing. Take Jose Cuervo Gold tequila. Chances are, when you're drinking Cuervo, you're in no condition to drive. Therefore, Jose Cuervo could improve their image by sponsoring an anti-drunk driving campaign like this: "If you don't believe in moderation, please believe in taxis. This message brought to you by Jose Cuervo Gold tequila. Cuervo... if you've fallen, and you can't get up, mission accomplished." Then there's Jagermeister, a vile concoction that I've seen people actually order and consume in front of my eyes. The bartender actually charges Jager-drinkers money for the putrid stuff, and surprisingly, people actually pay for it. I'm not sure that any marketing campaign could help convince non-Jagermeister drinkers to try the black potion of death. Maybe this: "Jagermeister – for those times when battery acid is just too harsh." Or, perhaps, "Jagermeister – the perfect beginning to tomorrow's hangover." We seem to have strayed far from the original topic, so let's get back. Perhaps the most successful of all off-season events could solve the problem of how we can get an actual count of our protected key deer (now so numerous that their habitat has expanded to other islands). I'd call it the Big Pine Key Fall Sportsmen's Classic. We could market this event in Field & Stream magazine, aiming it at hunters who want a new hunting experience. Once they get here, we issue them paintball rifles and a notebook, and tell them to have at it. Each hunter keeps an accurate log of how many deer they've bagged (painted), with already-painted deer presumed "killed." At the end of the "hunt" (when there are no more unpainted deer), we'll all have an accurate count of just how many deer there really are...and some really psychedelically colorful bucks and does that will fit right in on Big Pine! I feel certain we could get an adult beverage sponsor for this event… wait! Doesn't Jagermeister have a deer on the label? Perfect!
 John Bartus tag:johnbartus.com,2005:Post/6082023 2010-03-21T07:17:44-04:00 2020-01-10T14:32:42-05:00 It's the Economy, Stupid!
For those of you who haven't noticed, the Keys – hey, the entire globe – are going through tough economic times. The technical term economists use is "OH-MY-GOD-EVERYTHING-I-OWN-ISN'T-WORTH-ANYTHING-ANYMORE!" Property values have fallen like a drunk off of his barstool, chaos rules financial markets, jobs are the new endangered species, and the Federal government has had to "bail out" institutions that were "too big to fail." Some of those "too-big-but-failed-anyway" institutions were stalwart companies like General Motors, AIG, and Bernie Madoff's investment fund. Let me be clear here: even though Madoff is guaranteed three squares a day and government-run healthcare for the rest of his life, his financial "institution" was not the recipient of government bailout funds. Keeping up with economic news is enough to make a person's head spin like the racing numbers on the gas pump as you try to afford a fill-up. Actual newspaper headlines like, "U.S. Economy on Mend But Recovery Still Slow," give a person as much comfort as Charmin made from sandpaper. That's why we're going to present the first in a possible series of Keys Disease's Guide to the Collapse – OOPS! I mean Guide to the Economy. The funny thing is, we wouldn't be having any problems at all if it weren't for two things: first, the future is just so damn hard to predict; second, some damn long-deceased economist years ago declared that the economy was cyclical. That's just a fancy way of saying that there are ups and downs. Why didn't, instead, the deceased number-cruncher just say that everything always gets better all the time? Then, we really would have had "surpluses as far as the eye can see." Enough of looking backwards – let's define some economic terms that we might find in the pages of respected (hah!) financial publications. Recession – that is an economic condition that exists when your friends are out of work and can't afford to go out with you. Depression – a condition that exists when YOU are out of work and can't afford to go out. Bailout – the use of taxpayer dollars to "rescue" and "shore up" the finances of large corporations that made incredibly stupid financial decisions. Not available to actual taxpayers. Interest – the cost of borrowing money. Currently, large financial institutions that have been bailed out can borrow vast sums of money at interest rates at or slightly above zero percent (0%). They then turn around and charge you, the taxpayer who bailed them out, twenty-one point six percent (21.6%) or more on your credit card balances. Insurance (see "Scam") – a "service" provided by insurance companies that used to make reasonable profits based upon actuarial data. Most insurance companies (now investment firms) today reap huge profits based upon shareholder expectations instead of sound actuarial data. Mortgage – formerly a way for people to pay down a debt usually tied to real property, but now something people who are "under water" walk away from in droves. Under Water – formerly a term used to describe scuba divers, it now signifies someone who owes more money on a piece of property than it is now worth. I'm not making this next part up: respected financial advisors actually tell people to just walk away from their underwater mortgages today. Value – something that seems to diminish with each passing day. Small Business Loan – a financial arrangement rendered extinct by the current economic crisis. Deficit Spending – a government accounting practice that allows the government to spend money is doesn't have. If you apply this practice to your personal checking account, you will be arrested. Financial Market Regulations – nonexistent laws that theoretically could prevent another Wall Street meltdown like the kind we had in late 2008. Or not. Recovery – the current financial pain we all seem to be experiencing as the talking heads keep telling us that things really are getting better. Well, that's about enough of this for one day. Let's try and console ourselves with the thought that no matter how bad things seem, they probably could get a lot worse. Good Luck.
 John Bartus