Hola From Bogota

Well today is day two of my trip to Bogota (I don't count the travel day, even though it lasted slightly over 13 hours). I can't tell you that I have seen much of the country or even the city for that matter since I got here, but that is not unusual with the almost all the overseas travel that I do. I can't even describe the airport, as I landed after dark. Since then almost every available minute has been tied up at the newspaper, with the occasional hour thrown in for a meal or sleep. 

My impressions of the place are mostly favorable. The people have been terrific both at the hotel (The Hotel Capital) and the newspaper (El Tiempo). They have been universally helpful, friendly, and accepting of my complete inability to speak Spanish. Some of their staff, being far more capable than I am, are bi-lingual, and have been able to make the process a bit easier. 

As a consequence of the language barrier, they will be supplying me with a translator tomorrow to perform the formal training classes. I have also been asked to speak more slowly, as I have asked them to do, in the hopes of finding a partial linguistic common ground. Traffic in Bogota is an interesting experience, and I am grateful for the cab ride (with a local to watch over me) to and from work. 

While Colombians drive on the same side of the road that we do with the steering wheel on the proper side as well, this is the end of the common automobile experience. The cabs are incredibly small (as are most of the vehicles), and if there is a pattern to the traffic in Bogota (other than if you aren't a local you don't get it) I have yet to discern one. The food is likewise a bit unusual, but I am sure that they would feel the same if presented with many of our menus. 

As for the exchange rate, I was handed $38,000 Columbian pesos for a $20.00 bill. The prices don't seem out of line, but seeing them in a peso rate can be disconcerting at first (unless you are unfazed by seeing a cheeseburger for $22,500). 

There are a few things to get used to however, especially the security. There are police and soldiers visible almost everywhere, and there are dogs sniffing luggage even at the hotel. The security at the newspaper is tighter than I have seen since the strike in Detroit a few years ago. 

These are not special circumstances here however, and my passport is collected in order to obtain a security badge to go to work every day. I will not bore you with any of the details of the work that I am performing, as it is far from interesting, even to those in the industry. My intention is to complete it by the end of the week however,and be on my way back to fair Toledo on Saturday. Until then, adios.  

I apologize for the lack of pictures, but the weather has been too crummy to take any. In fact I have been surprisingly cool, with highs in the 60's and lows in the 40's. If it improves, which appears unlikely, I will try to get a few. 

Quote of the Day

 

It is almost 40 years to the day since the following words were uttered, a few weeks before an election. In light of what seems to be going on in the current one, I can think of no more important to ones to remember.  




“It’s time we asked ourselves if we still know the freedoms intended for us by the Founding Fathers. James Madison said, ‘We base all our experiments on the capacity of mankind for self-government.’ This idea that government was beholden to the people, that it had no other source of power, is still the newest, most unique idea in all the long history of man’s relation to man. This is the issue of this election: Whether we believe in our capacity for self-government or whether we abandon the American Revolution and confess that a little intellectual elite in a far-distant capital can plan our lives for us better than we can plan them ourselves.” - Ronald Reagan

Blogger Of The Year

A person who I am grateful to be able to call a friend, Maggie Thurber, was today awarded the American's For Prosperity (AFP) Blogger of the Year award. 

Maggie's efforts in so many areas are in fact worthy of such praise. She contributes to the Toledo Free Press as a columnist, hosts the "Eye on Toledo" radio show on 1370 WSPD here in Toledo, and writes for her own blog Thurber's Thoughts just to name a few. 

Maggie's work has been inspiration to many of us out here in our own efforts at blogging; and the friendship, help, and advice that she has given to me personally is something for which I will always be appreciative. 

Congratulations Maggie for your efforts, and to the AFP for their discerning judgment in choosing you for this award. You set the bar for many of us out here, and provide inspiration to a higher level of achievement. 

Politically Correct

Having described myself in the past as politically incorrect, I realized that such a claim would be unsubstantiated unless I could properly define Political correctness. Fortunately, I recently received some information that can do just that, and I decided to share it with you. Political correctness can be defined as anyone who believes the following:

• Kentuckians, Tennesseans, and West Virginians will no longer be referred to as Hillbillies, but as "Appalachian-Americans" instead.
• Bad male dancers will no longer be called so, but will instead be called "Overly Caucasian".
• Men will no longer be referred to as "Getting Lost while driving", but instead be said to be "exploring alternate destinations".
• Women will no longer be called "of easy virtue", but will instead be referred to as "Horizontally Accessible".
• The term "Dumb Blonde" will no longer be acceptable. "Light-haired detour on the information Super Highway" will be used instead.
• Overweight men will no longer be said to have a "Beer Gut". This condition will instead be referred to as a "Liquid Grain Storage Facility Condition".
• You can no longer refer to someone as a "Two Bit Hooker", but must instead refer to them as a "Low Cost Service Provider".
• A man's receding hairline can no longer be referred "Balding", but should instead be referred to as suffering from "Follicle Regression".
• A person no longer has "Their Head Up Their Ass", but instead is suffering from "Cranial / Rectal Inversion".

Go ahead and admit it, you were laughing, weren't you. Are these tasteless? Probably. Are they ridiculous? Perhaps not as much as you think. Is it sad that this is the world we have created with this nonsense? Definitely.

Tim Higgins, Columnist?

Yes boys and girls it's true!

Michael Miller, Editor In Chief of the Toledo Free Press (and a really nice guy), has accepted written material from your humble servant as a column in this week's edition. Now before you begin to question the sanity of these nice people, recognize that Michael and the Free Press are far too intelligent to actually throw money away by paying me for such labors. They have simply done me the kindness of exposing my particular brand of nonsense to a wider audience.

My thanks to you Michael for printing "COSI - Three Strikes", and my sympathies. I fear that your support to date will probably be repaid by a greater level of annoyance in the future. I can only hope that as time goes by, you will not come to regret the kind opportunity you have provided to me, as I bombard you with material for future use.

Update: I forgot to mention, in my haste to dislocate my arm patting myself on the back, that the column printed was on one of my favorite local targets, the Toledo Center of Science and Industry, coming up once again for a levy in November.

Flowers & Fertilizer

Once again, Toledo has won an award for flowers planted in the city, as pointed out in this Toledo Blade article. 

America in Bloom, a non-profit organization (much like Toledo these days) has presented the city with a "heritage preservation" award for cities over 100,000 in population. Of course the fact that Toledo was the only city in this category to enter the contest might have something to do with the win. 

At a time when the city looks to be up to 7 million dollars in the red for the current fiscal budget, isn't it nice to know that we have the money to plant flowers, care for them, and of course rip them out when they die in the now cooling temperatures. At a time when jobs and residents are leaving the city at an alarming and almost unprecedented rate, isn't it nice to know that we have the time to focus on finding and entering such pointless contests. 

I would like to call this kind of behavior putting "lipstick on a pig", but that phrase has become more than a little tired these days. I will instead, suggest that the title of Mayor be removed from the office that Carlton S. Finkbeiner now holds in Toledo, and suggest instead that he be called, "Fertilizer Spreader In Chief", in homage to his success in spreading taxpayer dollars and natural fertilizer with equal alacrity in order to make pretty flowers grow. 

Off To Foreign Lands ... Again

As the title implies, I am once again leaving our fair shores on Sunday in the name of business, and as part of what I believe is a secret program to raise the national IQ (at least on a temporary basis). I suspect in fact, that this may some part of a larger international "sweeps week", and that forcing another country to take credit (or blame) for me is part of a program to improve a national reputation that has taken significant hits recently. 

I will once more be journeying south, this time to Bogota, Columbia. As with most of my previous foreign travel, I am completely ignorant of the city and country that I will be journeying to, deriving any information that I have from news reports over the years of the drugs that come from this country and of course the original "Romancing The Stone" movie. I am reasonably certain that I will be quickly disabused of all of my present stereotypes, since neither of these sources can be considered in any way credible (OK, maybe "Romancing The Stone" is). 

As I did with my travels to Trinidad (which I only discovered today is north of where I am going this time), I will attempt to post something from this foreign land, with pictures if I manage to take any worth sharing. While not looking forward to long hours in an airplane (a recognized form a torture which has been banned by the Geneva Convention), I will at least be able to escape for a few days the political nonsense that is winding up to a fever pitch in this country. While working long hours at the newspaper, I will at least be able to escape the endless political commercials, nonsensical pundits, and news reports filled with quotes of candidates saying the same things that they have said before when I return to my hotel and turn on the TV (of course I probably won't be able to understand the shows on TV, but that too may be a good thing). Basking in what I hope will be the relative peace and quiet of that setting, I hope to regain some perspective on life before immersing myself once again in the final stampede to election day. 

I have great faith that those remaining behind are more than up to the challenge of containing the madness and maintaining order in my absence. They may in fact be considering this a vacation for themselves. As the saying goes... "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and the more he's absent, the fonder I become of it." 

 

The Rites Of Fall

Fall is once again in full bloom. The leaves are turning, temperatures are moderating, and children are once more back in school. The Rites of Fall are likewise in full bloom. 

No, I am not talking about the World Series, the beginning of the football season, or even pre-season hockey. I am talking instead about something with far fewer rules, far more bad behavior, and far more devastating results. In other words boys and girls, election season. 

We are once again in the midst of what is simultaneously the most interesting, most boring, and most despicable of human behaviors. Trapped in front of our televisions and radios, we are subjected to a non-stop stream of "half-truths, mistruths, and outright lies" (a quote previously misused by a local Toledo politician which I just love).  

Understanding our addiction to these evil technologies, our politicians take advantage of our illness in order to subject us to an endless stream of fertilizer and hatred (most of which is wild mis-characterization) in order to convince us that they are to be trusted enough to lead us. Like hunters who are not content to shoot a prey chained to a stake, they must also spray bullets all around, wounding innocent bystanders in the process.  

This behavior crosses all parties lines, is participated in by liberal and conservative alike, and even crosses lines of gender. Nothing is sacrosanct, nothing is off limits, and nothing is out of bounds. The normal proscriptions against attacking women, children, or beliefs goes out the window in the headlong struggle to achieve a little power and a fat government paycheck (or the equivalent government funding). 

All rules are out the window in this ultimate fighting match where winning is the only measure of success. Each contestant slings filth in every direction while simultaneously decrying the practice. No blame is accepted, no guilt is felt, and the only respite taken is one used to beat one's breast while asserting a claim of being the victim of an unfounded character attack. 

 Fortunately for all of us, the regular season is short and the playoffs are well under way. The coaches, fans, and press of this bloodsport, blinded by an almost religious fervor, run helter-skelter down the field, keeping pace with the players themselves. At break neck speed and completely out of control, the process races along to the finish line; crushing contestants and bystanders alike in its furious pace. Our only salvation is that in but another few weeks the winners will be crowned, the losers will be able to seek redress in the courts, and flush with new won power our leaders will all go back to "business as usual". 

This is the world that we have created in our own image, cage matches where two enter and one leaves. This is what we have done with the legacy handed down to us by a group of dedicated revolutionaries 232 years ago who risked their very lives to provide us with a freedom that we have turned into little more than a pay-per-view gladiatorial spectacle. 

And perhaps these competitions, like those in the past, signal the end of an empire. Perhaps we have finally bastardized the process beyond all redemption, and like the Roman Empire, begun our slow decline into oblivion. I still hold out some vague hope that such is not the case, but I will leave those conclusions to the judgment of history. Meanwhile like it or not, these are the true "Rites of Fall".

 

Cell Phones: Accessible Annoyance

An interesting posting on Roland's Ramblings caused me to make use of my personal "Wayback Machine" to dredge up a bit of nonsense that I had written before Just Blowing Smoke existed as a blogspot blog. I have updated and edited it as my own small way of paying homage to Mr. Hansen, a constant source of interesting information. 

I don't know about you, but one of the most annoying things in my life today is the cell phone. You can't seem to go to a restaurant, family gathering, or even church (or at least, so I have been told) without one of these marvels of modern technology interrupting the event. Not content with this level of intrusion into our lives however, the manufacturers of these electronic Torquemada torture devices have added the ability to listen to music, text message, and even receive emails 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. There is now no longer anywhere we can go or any time of the day when our friends, our customers, and our employers can't disturb some part of our lives with something of inestimable importance (at least to them). 

Whoever thought that one of the greatest pleasures of the modern age might become the chance of being inaccessible to our fellow human beings for however brief a time? Why is it that the ability to communicate with other people at times and in places where any sane person would once have been ashamed to do so is now not only acceptable, but necessary behavior? When did being at the beck and call of any yahoo with the ability to sign a two year contract and a yen to share information become the goal in and point of our lives? When did we reach a point in civilization when no one is content unless they are constantly communicating useless information with a person that they cannot see every minute of their probably pointless lives? 

And don't even get me started on the subject of personalized ringers (oops, too late). I know that it's supposed to be cute, but so is a baby alligator until it bites you. Is it possible that people might realize that their current favorite song (or that from the night they lost their virginity) might not something that everyone wants to hear every time some idiot wants to extend their electronic social life? Isn't it burden enough that we have to share the musical tastes of every juvenile delinquent with bass enhancement each time they pull up next to us at a stop light without having to suffer it in places where such vehicles are not allowed? No offense to those of you out there sharing these bits of melodic rhapsody with the world (OK, maybe some), but your choices usually leave something to be desired. With all of history's music to pick from, you would think that people could find something that doesn't make the fillings in your teeth work loose, and you would be wrong. (And for those of you who still have "Who let the dogs out" on your phone, for shame.)  

Add in the special ringtones for special callers, alert tones for text messages or emails, and the music the phone plays when turning on or off; and you reach a point of mind-numbing tonal madness that we insist on subjecting our friends and neighbors to on an everyday basis in the name of self-amusement.  

And once the din announcing that someone would like to share some part of their idiotic life with you electronically has finally been silenced, you treat us to conversations that nobody cares about, at a decibel level that is suited only to a rock concert. 

While I am sure that their life is important to them (and it should be), can we agree that it means little or nothing to the rest of the world and that the necessity of subjecting us to it ad nauseum just because we happen to be standing within a block of you is ridiculous? Can we likewise agree that perhaps if these people actually had a life, that they wouldn't feel the need to share it with the rest of us quite so much? I can't take it any more! I hereby reject all of the ignorance, lack of good manners, and sheer stupidity of the behavior constantly committed in the name of non-stop, nonsensical cellular communication!

... and that's just my phone. Don't even get me started on how annoying yours is. 

Fractured Fairy Tales - The Boy Who Cried Potential

Yes boys and girls, no matter how much we try to avoid it, it's time once again for another of those wonderful stories that you have all come to know and love. (Hey, no complaints. You just have to read them. I'm the one that has to to write them.) Today's tale is another of those cautionary tales about a magical land that we have come to know and love as "Toodledeedoo". But let's not waste any more time in idle chit-chat and get right to our story. 


Once upon a time their lived a man (well, more of a boy actually), who lived in the magical land of Toodledeedoo. This man/boy was a civil servant, in a position of some authority, and had been given direct responsibility for the economic development of the land. Now this was something that is very important to any community, and unfortunately something that he knew absolutely nothing about. But such was the makeup of this over-age child that this lack of knowledge or skills in no way prevented him from blundering forward at his assigned duties. Time passed, and little of this responsibility was actually accomplished.


Toodledeedo's situation in fact got progressively worse under his stewardship. Soon even blissful ignorance made it impossible for him to ignore the fact that he was failing miserably at this given task, but being the creature he was he decided that if he couldn't fulfill his obligations he would ignore his failures and attempt to draw attention to himself and his supposed efforts anyway. 


So one day, he simply went to one of his failed ventures (in this case the downtown Erie Street Market), and cried, "This building has potential!" Everyone came running to see what all of the fuss was about, but when they came, all that they saw was a sad little man in a sad little place. If once the Erie Street Market had potential, it had long since passed. It was little more these days than an eyesore and a drain on Toodledeedoo's scant resources, and a source of embarrassment to it's citizens. Disgusted at being pulled away from their own lives (and with this tired little performance), they shook their heads and sadly walked away. 


Determined to gain praise when he had failed before, he chose another site. This time standing in front of the closed COSI facility (Center of Science and Industry), and again he shouted, "This building has potential!" Once again everyone came running to see what all the excitement was about. Once again they were disappointed. This time the citizens were being presented with a project whose potential, if it ever had any, had long since passed under intellectual laziness, operational neglect, and poor fiscal management. Once more disgusted with a fuss being made over nothing, they sadly shook their heads and walked away, this time mumbling as they left. Infuriated now over his lack of success in drawing the praise he felt he so richly deserved, and undaunted by his continuing failure to garner the proper attention, our subject tried a third time. 


Standing in front of the United Way building this time, he once again shouted, "This building has potential!" Once more, everyone came running (well actually more like trotting this time, but at least they showed up again). One glance at where he was standing was enough for the crowd this time however. The United Way building had been written off by the very people that it was built for as a white elephant, and merited little more than the demolition the owners already had planned for it. The tired efforts or our sorry little civil servant, having passed mere annoyance by this time, were really beginning to aggravate the populace however. They left again, but not without a few angry shouts about bad judgment, abuse of power, and sheer bull-headed ignorance this time. 


Surprised over his complete failure to garner the praise and attention that he felt he so richly deserved, he finally gave up and began to make his way slowly back to his office. It was while make this somber journey however that it occurred to him that the answer to economic development he was looking for had been right before his eyes all the time. It was something that many had been telling him about for years, but which he pointedly ignored because he hadn't come up with the idea first. Toodledeedoo was on a really big lake (some might even call it great) so it could handle shipping by water, was in the middle of a bunch of great 4-lane roads that could be equally helpful, had an airport that nobody was using for much of anything these days, and was surrounded by rail lines to add to the mix. 


If all of these things could be combined (Can you say intermodal facility?), he could turn Toodledeedoo into a commercial hub for the transportation of goods from one end of the country to the other. This realization struck him so strongly that it was all that he could do to continue walking. Almost in spite of himself, he had finally found the answer he was looking for. (After everyone else of course, but that's beside the point.) "This has potential!" he cried, but this time nobody came. "No, this time I really mean it. This has potential!" he screamed again even more loudly, but again no one came. He screamed and screamed again. He screamed until he finally made himself hoarse, but no one ever came to see what the fuss was about. 


You see, when you abuse the power of your position and falsely claim successes that don't really exist, eventually everyone stops listening. Fed up with the natural fertilizer and noise that you have generated in the past, people eventually wise up, tune you out, and in the end ignore you completely. Even if you come up with a great idea after that, no one will show up to hear you; and it is highly unlikely that any good idea that you come up with will ever be realized as a consequence.

THE END

Let us hope that this is a fate that those of us not living in a fairy tale can yet avoid. Real opportunities don't come very around often, and if you continually pass them up, eventually they stop coming at all. Perhaps such cautionary tales will help to curb the noise and nonsense that some of our civic leaders generate in their need for self-aggrandizement, focus our attention on real opportunities, and give good ideas a chance to yet succeed.