C-17 Globemaster IIIs from the 437th
Airlift Wing and 315th AW at Charleston Air Force Base, SC., fly in
formation Dec. 18 over Charleston S.C., during an Army strategic
brigade airdrop exercise. (U.S. Air Force photo/Tech. Sgt. Jeremy Lock)
Friday, January 30, 2009
A Flock Of C-17s
C-17 Globemaster IIIs from the 437th
Airlift Wing and 315th AW at Charleston Air Force Base, SC., fly in
formation Dec. 18 over Charleston S.C., during an Army strategic
brigade airdrop exercise. (U.S. Air Force photo/Tech. Sgt. Jeremy Lock)
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Wrong Black Man
Today, I was at my beauty shop, getting my hair done. I took doughnuts to the beauty shop, something I rarely do, as I figured I would have to bribe my way in.
<smile>
Not really. Tuesday's been doing my hair every other week for twenty years come this September. She was the first black person I met in Austin, she was the first person to do my hair here in Austin, and in nearly twenty years my hair's been done by someone else only twice. She and I are friends, and we have been debating politics at least since she had her first shop. She's religious, she's conservative, she votes Democrat, despite my best efforts <smile>.
We're friends.
So, anyway, she had one other customer in the shop when I arrived on Inauguration Day, a woman who I had seen a time or two before, but whose name I still don't know. Tuesday said I could watch the Inauguration with them, as long as I didn't boo.
I dissed Feinswine and made Tuesday and the other lady laugh. We critiqued Michelle's dress, and I figured out why Malia always dresses too "grown" for her age.
The three of us prayed that Aretha would be completely covered up when she was announced, and we were all loving that hat! She made all three of us cry ... Lord, thank you kindly for voices like Aretha's, that lift our hearts and our spirits.
Tuesday and the other customer went into the shampoo room, while I stayed outside to let them know when the oath started. I was digging Itzhak and Yo-Yo and the others, and digging the reaction of the children to classical music --- the expressions on some of the kindergardener's faces were wondrous.
Tuesday and the other customer came back out in time to see the swearing-in. They were all agog because of his skin color --- Tuesday even said, "I'm proud of my blackness today!" (Which shocked me.) Me, I was heart-full, as I always am, at the peaceful exchange of power. It wasn't done undercover, at midnight, but in the light, at the stroke of noon; it wasn't enforced by a gun or a bayonet, but by the rule of law and custom.
The color on his skin was, of course, wonderful to see ... but, truly, it's the content of his character that matters most to me, and should to everyone.
As I told the ladies at the beauty shop, it's wonderful to see a black man take the oath ... but it's the wrong black man.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Shooting Report
Today I took --- and passed! --- a Basic Pistol I class given by a local training outfit. Now, I grew up in a gun owner's home, but that gun was strictly for home defense --- Daddy fired it twice a year (yes, he fired it into the air --- as far as I know, no one was ever hit), and the rest of the time it lived on the top shelf of the closet in my parents' bedroom.
For various reasons, both cultural and personal, my Daddy never went to a gun range. I have never before been to an outdoor range.
Well, that changed today.
Before going, I had to stop and buy a baseball cap --- it's the first one I've ever owned or worn. I have a big head, and the kind of caps that have the adjustable strap don't work for me --- I have to have the elastic sort.
Maybe a boonie cap would work better? ...
The course was held at an extremely rural location --- an hour's drive east of Austin, on roads that went from eight-lane blacktop to four-lane blacktop to two-lane paved to two-lane gravel to one-lane rutted dirt --- good thing we're currently suffering from "exceptional" drought conditions!
Two dozen head of Longhorns grazed in a pen next to the parking area. The lecture part of the class was held in a nice shack, complete with indoor plumbing <smirk> and a nice kitchen. A gregarious old Lab mix wandered
through the classroom, or sat listening to her Daddy, the lead instructor, talk. She even came outside, and stood well away from the tables but close to the people.
Business is very, very good for this training outfit; in late November, when I first contacted them, they didn't plan to hold a Basic Pistol I class until March 2009; they had two classes today, and apparently have scheduled two for next
Saturday. Both classes were full, and the lead instructor told me he'd had to bring in all his part-time instructors to help. There were six other instructors there, two of them women.
The women in the class got a special sheaf of information intended to allay any case of female jits. I didn't read it closely ... I was there because I wanted to be.
There were about a dozen students in my class, half men and half women. All the women, save one, was there with her husband. Most of the couples were gray-haired, but there was a pair in their mid-twenties, and a male friend of theirs who was about the same age. You could easily tell which woman was genuinely interested, and which was a martyr to the cause.
We had been asked not to bring our gun, if we owned one; in this class no one owned a gun, or, if they did, they didn't admit to it. Apparently, several in the morning class brought their guns, and got them critiqued.
The course lasted a little over three hours, and roughly half of that was spent at a primitive outdoor range consisting of six long wooden tables, firing various types of pistols at metal targets ten to fifteen yards away. I hit some, and missed some. I fired:
- A Springfield XD 9mm (first one I handled);
- A S&W (I think) 1911-style .22 with an electronic sight (which I liked very much!);
- A S&W .38 revolver (which I kinda liked);
- A S&W 9mm (solid kick!);
- and a Glock 17 (which I also liked).
Durnit!
Not every one there was having a good time. While waiting to fire the .38, I sat next to a lady who had shot two pistols and was done with the whole concept. She and I talked about New Balance athletic shoes (I just bought a new pair, to replace the pair that was destroyed in the Great Apartment Flood Of 2008) for a few minutes, until the instructor with the .38 was free.
I learned:
- No guns, watches, bracelets, or rings at the range (and you know I love my bling);
- The 1911 frame fits my hand;
- Iron sights are difficult to line up;
- Brass is rude;
- This sport is stinky and dirty;
- I can be vain about my hands;
- It's hard to shoot with long nails;
- I could have passed the shooting portion of the CHL today;
- I need to practice lots before I get good at this;
- I have every intention of getting good at this.
She has invited me to a women-only firearms class in a different rural location, which I will attend.
I will also be taking Basic Pistol II, if not in early February, then as soon as possible thereafter. I think I can make it to a nearby indoor range week after next ... I now have a ball cap, a rocker patch that says "Basic Practical," and a yen to become a better shooter.
I am Dangerous ...Friday, January 16, 2009
The Great Flood of 2008
I just realized, I never told this blog the story of The Great Flood of 2008.
December 12, 2008, which was a Friday, was a pretty typical day all day. I was sitting at my computer, at a desk which was covered with Post-It notes, pens, and manila file folders, when, at a little after 5pm, I called Fuzz at work to discuss dinner.
We had barely exchanged greetings when a strange noise, like heavy rainfall, began in the wall behind me. That wall is an interior wall, and no rain was forecast nor visible outside the window. I turned around ...
And water began cascading from the ceiling fan over my head. And I do mean "cascade." It was as if I'd turned a faucet full on, except the water was falling from my ceiling and onto my desk, my monitor, and me.
My immediate thought was to blame the doofuses upstairs --- loud college students who tended to come home drunk at 3am and mistake my second-floor door for their third-story one, who were dumb enough to kick and pound on my door until I threatened them with a gun and the police. I thought they had left the water on and I was receiving the overflow. I ran out the front door of my apartment and went up the stairs in my slow fashion, my cell phone in one hand dialing the apartment main office and screaming at them to come turn the motherfuckin' water off.
The prissy little twit who answered the phone refused to talk to me until I stopped cussing. AAARGH!
By the time I hit the landing, the fire alarms started going off. Before I could get up the stairs to the third floor, the upstairs doofus came out of his apartment asking me what was happening. I screamed, "Is the water in your apartment?"
"No, I'm dry up here," he replied. "What's happening?"
I don't know how I replied to that; I was headed back downstairs. I couldn't figure ot what to do, other than call the apartment's main office and get someone up here to turn off the water.
Our apartment complex has two separate campuses, one lower, down by the main office, and the upper campus, where my apartment is located. It was 5pm on a Friday, and, I suspect, the staff had been in weekend mode when I called. When I called back, I was assured that the maintenance person was in the golf cart and on their way.
I called Fuzz, who was on his way home.
For what felt like twenty minutes --- but was probably only five --- I alternated between the apartment and the rail outside the apartment, desperately looking for maintenance's golf cart, calling Fuzz, calling the apartment complex's office, and just screaming my fool head off. Water was now pouring from every light fixture and sprinkler head in the living room ceiling, as well as in both the smaller bedrooms, which were full of books and papers. People had come out from the apartments on the other end of my building, as well as people from other buildings, drawn by the fire alarms; they were all staring at me as I roared my anger out at no one in particular.
Finally, the golf cart appeared with two maintenance guys in it, one of them a man I recognized from a recent repair. "Carlos!" I yelled, "Get in here and turn off this damn water!"
The Austin Fire Department responded to the shorted-out fire alarms. Brian, Jesus, and a fireman whose name I cannot recall came in and immediately scooped up the computers, monitors, and other electronics and took them into the master bedroom, which was not affected. They turned off the power in the apartment, and kept moving stuff into the master bedroom.
Right here, let me say that AFD rocks.
And the water kept on falling.
Fuzz showed up, his usual calm self, and got to work packing stuff away into the master bedroom. The firemen found push-broom-like squeegees and started pushing water out. I was walking around barefoot, since the ballet-slipper-like houseshoes I had been wearing were slippery when wet, and I was splashing arund in water over my feet and up my ankles.
And the water kept pouring down.
The carpet guy, who spoke excellent English, and the drywall/painter guys, who didn't speak much English at all, showed up and started moving stuff. We had a set of three metal shelves and four plastic shelves. Fuzz, the carpet guy, the drywall/painter guys, and the firemen moved the shelves into the driest part of the living room, and then started stacking stuff on said shelves.
The prissy little twit from the apartment main office showed up, looked around, and ran for cover, his tail tucked between his legs. The apartment maintenance supervisor appeared at some point, as well as a plumber.
Finally, after some forty-five minutes, it was determined that the leak wasn't in the main water system, but in the sprinkler system, and then someone had to figure out how to turn that system off.
It seemed to take fifteen minutes more before the water flow slowed to a trickle.
The ceiling sheetrock was the consistency of tapioca --- the firemen were worried that it would collapse at any moment. Yes, the firemen were still around --- since the fire alarms in the building were off, as well as the water to the sprinkler system, they had to stick around in case there was a fire. And they made themselves useful, pushing water from the parts of the apartment that were flooded out the sliding glass doors and off the balcony, packing stuff out onto the balcony and into the dry parts of the apartment, and being generally useful. I credit them with stopping the water just three feet outside the master bedroom.
By now, it was nearing seven o'clock, and it was dark outside and in the apartment. The firemen turned the power back on, and the plumber started looking for the leak by cutting holes in the sheetrock. It took a while, and required turning the water back on temporarily, but they finally found it. The pipe didn't spring a leak; instead, a join in the pipe separated. The plumber fixed the join and left soon after.
The carpet guy, the drywall/painter guys, and Fuzz had moved all the stuff they could. Furniture and boxes were on the balcony. To get useless me out of the way, Fuzz sent me in the car to find a place to stay for the night. He had to tell me twice, and once I understood what he wanted me to do, I felt so damn useless ...
All of my shoes were wet ... I don't recall what I wore on my feet when I went down to the car to drive around.
I found a Springhill Suites (a flavor of Marriott) down the road, and checked us in for a night. When I got back, I packed what clothes I could --- it being Friday, most of our clothes were in the dirty clothes hamper --- and we left around nine-thirty. The carpet guy had set up a set of four fans and a dehumidifier, and they were going ike gangbusters when we locked the door.
We came back Saturday morning, and tried to sort through wet stuff. Talk about demoralizing! Some of the shelving units were wet, and the stuff on those units was valuable --- Fuzz's collection of football cards had been on the top shelf, directly under the sprinkler head that broke, on the other side of the wall from me. The thick cardboard box, two feet by three feet big, was wet to the touch. We opened the box ... and out of the thusands of cards in there, only thirty were wet!
Sunday morning I couldn't stand it any longer, and neither could Fuzz ... we went to Circuit City and bought me an HP portable, the same computer I'm using now to post this blog entry. I was dying not being able to get my hands on a system of my own for nearly thirty-six hours. This machine is an HP with an AMD Turion chip and the wide screen. I'm loving it ... my old portable was on the metal shelf, and was standing in a half-inch of water for several hours before I realized what had happened to the shelf.
Sunday, we came back to the apartment and worked a few hours. Monday through Wednesday, I kept coming in here so I could watch the apartment while the carpet guy, the drywall/painter guys, and the apartment maintenance supervisor; Fuzz went to work. I got nothing done, and managed to piss off a client thereby.
The apartment complex ever so generously offered a rent concession of $200 --- after I asked for it --- which does not represent one week of the rent. Half of the concession was eaten up by the increase in the electric bill because of the four industrial fans and one dehumidifier that were running in here 24/7 from Friday night to Thursday morning.
The carpet guy came in Thursday and replaced the carpet pad and tacked the carpet back down. It was supposed to happen on Wednesday, but the carpet wasn't dry enough, and neither was the wall. The drywall/painter guys came in Wednesday, cut out the bottom of the wall in the library, and let it dry until Thursday.
We weren't able to move back into the apartment for a week; we got back in here the Saturday before Christmas. And even now, weeks later, the apartment is still a mess --- bags everywhere, even in the unused tub in the second bathroom. Even now, I'll pick up a bag and find a wet and moldy mess inside.
We're still in the process of making claims against our renter's insurance. We haven't gotten any money yet ... we're waiting. Fuzz thinks the insurance company is gonna stiff us ... I'm more hopeful.
On a hopeful note: Fuzz got a call from the insurance company asking when we planned to submit a furniture claim. Maybe they're just waiting for us to submit the big-ticket items before they cut us a check.
I can hope ...!
December 12, 2008, which was a Friday, was a pretty typical day all day. I was sitting at my computer, at a desk which was covered with Post-It notes, pens, and manila file folders, when, at a little after 5pm, I called Fuzz at work to discuss dinner.
We had barely exchanged greetings when a strange noise, like heavy rainfall, began in the wall behind me. That wall is an interior wall, and no rain was forecast nor visible outside the window. I turned around ...
And water began cascading from the ceiling fan over my head. And I do mean "cascade." It was as if I'd turned a faucet full on, except the water was falling from my ceiling and onto my desk, my monitor, and me.
My immediate thought was to blame the doofuses upstairs --- loud college students who tended to come home drunk at 3am and mistake my second-floor door for their third-story one, who were dumb enough to kick and pound on my door until I threatened them with a gun and the police. I thought they had left the water on and I was receiving the overflow. I ran out the front door of my apartment and went up the stairs in my slow fashion, my cell phone in one hand dialing the apartment main office and screaming at them to come turn the motherfuckin' water off.
The prissy little twit who answered the phone refused to talk to me until I stopped cussing. AAARGH!
By the time I hit the landing, the fire alarms started going off. Before I could get up the stairs to the third floor, the upstairs doofus came out of his apartment asking me what was happening. I screamed, "Is the water in your apartment?"
"No, I'm dry up here," he replied. "What's happening?"
I don't know how I replied to that; I was headed back downstairs. I couldn't figure ot what to do, other than call the apartment's main office and get someone up here to turn off the water.
Our apartment complex has two separate campuses, one lower, down by the main office, and the upper campus, where my apartment is located. It was 5pm on a Friday, and, I suspect, the staff had been in weekend mode when I called. When I called back, I was assured that the maintenance person was in the golf cart and on their way.
I called Fuzz, who was on his way home.
For what felt like twenty minutes --- but was probably only five --- I alternated between the apartment and the rail outside the apartment, desperately looking for maintenance's golf cart, calling Fuzz, calling the apartment complex's office, and just screaming my fool head off. Water was now pouring from every light fixture and sprinkler head in the living room ceiling, as well as in both the smaller bedrooms, which were full of books and papers. People had come out from the apartments on the other end of my building, as well as people from other buildings, drawn by the fire alarms; they were all staring at me as I roared my anger out at no one in particular.
Finally, the golf cart appeared with two maintenance guys in it, one of them a man I recognized from a recent repair. "Carlos!" I yelled, "Get in here and turn off this damn water!"
The Austin Fire Department responded to the shorted-out fire alarms. Brian, Jesus, and a fireman whose name I cannot recall came in and immediately scooped up the computers, monitors, and other electronics and took them into the master bedroom, which was not affected. They turned off the power in the apartment, and kept moving stuff into the master bedroom.
Right here, let me say that AFD rocks.
And the water kept on falling.
Fuzz showed up, his usual calm self, and got to work packing stuff away into the master bedroom. The firemen found push-broom-like squeegees and started pushing water out. I was walking around barefoot, since the ballet-slipper-like houseshoes I had been wearing were slippery when wet, and I was splashing arund in water over my feet and up my ankles.
And the water kept pouring down.
The carpet guy, who spoke excellent English, and the drywall/painter guys, who didn't speak much English at all, showed up and started moving stuff. We had a set of three metal shelves and four plastic shelves. Fuzz, the carpet guy, the drywall/painter guys, and the firemen moved the shelves into the driest part of the living room, and then started stacking stuff on said shelves.
The prissy little twit from the apartment main office showed up, looked around, and ran for cover, his tail tucked between his legs. The apartment maintenance supervisor appeared at some point, as well as a plumber.
Finally, after some forty-five minutes, it was determined that the leak wasn't in the main water system, but in the sprinkler system, and then someone had to figure out how to turn that system off.
It seemed to take fifteen minutes more before the water flow slowed to a trickle.
The ceiling sheetrock was the consistency of tapioca --- the firemen were worried that it would collapse at any moment. Yes, the firemen were still around --- since the fire alarms in the building were off, as well as the water to the sprinkler system, they had to stick around in case there was a fire. And they made themselves useful, pushing water from the parts of the apartment that were flooded out the sliding glass doors and off the balcony, packing stuff out onto the balcony and into the dry parts of the apartment, and being generally useful. I credit them with stopping the water just three feet outside the master bedroom.
By now, it was nearing seven o'clock, and it was dark outside and in the apartment. The firemen turned the power back on, and the plumber started looking for the leak by cutting holes in the sheetrock. It took a while, and required turning the water back on temporarily, but they finally found it. The pipe didn't spring a leak; instead, a join in the pipe separated. The plumber fixed the join and left soon after.
The carpet guy, the drywall/painter guys, and Fuzz had moved all the stuff they could. Furniture and boxes were on the balcony. To get useless me out of the way, Fuzz sent me in the car to find a place to stay for the night. He had to tell me twice, and once I understood what he wanted me to do, I felt so damn useless ...
All of my shoes were wet ... I don't recall what I wore on my feet when I went down to the car to drive around.
I found a Springhill Suites (a flavor of Marriott) down the road, and checked us in for a night. When I got back, I packed what clothes I could --- it being Friday, most of our clothes were in the dirty clothes hamper --- and we left around nine-thirty. The carpet guy had set up a set of four fans and a dehumidifier, and they were going ike gangbusters when we locked the door.
We came back Saturday morning, and tried to sort through wet stuff. Talk about demoralizing! Some of the shelving units were wet, and the stuff on those units was valuable --- Fuzz's collection of football cards had been on the top shelf, directly under the sprinkler head that broke, on the other side of the wall from me. The thick cardboard box, two feet by three feet big, was wet to the touch. We opened the box ... and out of the thusands of cards in there, only thirty were wet!
Sunday morning I couldn't stand it any longer, and neither could Fuzz ... we went to Circuit City and bought me an HP portable, the same computer I'm using now to post this blog entry. I was dying not being able to get my hands on a system of my own for nearly thirty-six hours. This machine is an HP with an AMD Turion chip and the wide screen. I'm loving it ... my old portable was on the metal shelf, and was standing in a half-inch of water for several hours before I realized what had happened to the shelf.
Sunday, we came back to the apartment and worked a few hours. Monday through Wednesday, I kept coming in here so I could watch the apartment while the carpet guy, the drywall/painter guys, and the apartment maintenance supervisor; Fuzz went to work. I got nothing done, and managed to piss off a client thereby.
The apartment complex ever so generously offered a rent concession of $200 --- after I asked for it --- which does not represent one week of the rent. Half of the concession was eaten up by the increase in the electric bill because of the four industrial fans and one dehumidifier that were running in here 24/7 from Friday night to Thursday morning.
The carpet guy came in Thursday and replaced the carpet pad and tacked the carpet back down. It was supposed to happen on Wednesday, but the carpet wasn't dry enough, and neither was the wall. The drywall/painter guys came in Wednesday, cut out the bottom of the wall in the library, and let it dry until Thursday.
We weren't able to move back into the apartment for a week; we got back in here the Saturday before Christmas. And even now, weeks later, the apartment is still a mess --- bags everywhere, even in the unused tub in the second bathroom. Even now, I'll pick up a bag and find a wet and moldy mess inside.
We're still in the process of making claims against our renter's insurance. We haven't gotten any money yet ... we're waiting. Fuzz thinks the insurance company is gonna stiff us ... I'm more hopeful.
On a hopeful note: Fuzz got a call from the insurance company asking when we planned to submit a furniture claim. Maybe they're just waiting for us to submit the big-ticket items before they cut us a check.
I can hope ...!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
New Shoes For Me
I like New Balance. Someone told me they were the shoe of choice for black women. I don't know about that ... but they sure do work well for my flat, pronated feet.
I needed a new pair. The ones I had were casualties of the Great Flood --- I can only find the left one. It got soaked, and now it stinks. Since the Flood, I've been running around in (very normal-shoe-looking) house shoes.
So I walked in to the New Balance store here in town and bought a new pair. Pricey, but nice!
Next, I need to buy a nice pair of low heels and several pairs of slip-ons.
I needed a new pair. The ones I had were casualties of the Great Flood --- I can only find the left one. It got soaked, and now it stinks. Since the Flood, I've been running around in (very normal-shoe-looking) house shoes.
So I walked in to the New Balance store here in town and bought a new pair. Pricey, but nice!
Next, I need to buy a nice pair of low heels and several pairs of slip-ons.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Gun Nut In The Making
Okay, so Saturday I go to the range for the first time. I've got to buy new shoes (can't find my old tennis shoes) and ball caps for the two of us. We're not normally ball cap people, and Fuzz needs something to corral his hair.
A few gun-type quotes:
"Mr. Lincoln freed the slaves, but Misters Smith and Wesson made all men equal."
"Mr. Colt: bringing about equality, one bullet at a time."
"In God I trust, and in His faithful servant, John Browning."
A few gun-type quotes:
"Mr. Lincoln freed the slaves, but Misters Smith and Wesson made all men equal."
"Mr. Colt: bringing about equality, one bullet at a time."
"In God I trust, and in His faithful servant, John Browning."
People Worth Knowing: Myron Rolle --- Living The Dreams!
I found this wonderful background article on Myron Rolle, FSU safety and Rhodes Scholar, today.
As has been in the news, Myron managed to get in his Rhodes scholarship interview and play in the November 22nd FSU game against Maryland --- the NCAA delayed the game, someone provided him with the use of a private plane, and he didn't start, but he met both appointments.
As has also been in the news, his interview apparently kicked ass, since he was awarded a Rhodes scholarship before the game started.
Now, Myron --- who is Samari Rolle's distant cousin (I was wondering about that) --- has chosen Oxofrd over the NFL, even though he was told he would go in the first or second rounds of the NFL draft. He will go for a one-year course of study in medical anthropology there, and come back to the US to enter the 2010 NFL Draft.
Priorities right in line here!
===========================================================================
Scholarly Seminole: NFL prospect Rolle also has Rhodes aspirations Story Highlights
• Rolle, a pre-med student, will graduate in two-and-a-half years
• FSU safety is projected as a first-round pick in April 2009
• Former USC QB Haden was a Div. I Rhodes scholar in '75
Myron Rolle started all 13 games at safety for the Seminoles last season.
Greg Drzazgowski/Icon SMI
Related Links
• PHOTO GALLERY: Myron Rolle studying abroad
• SI VAULT: Tracing the history of the Rolle family
By Stewart Mandel, SI.com
If all goes to plan on the field this fall, Florida State safety Myron Rolle will produce the kind of season that catapults him into the first round of next spring's NFL draft.
If all goes to plan off the field, Rolle will be faced with a vexing yet welcome decision: NFL locker room or Oxford University classroom?
Rolle, a preseason All-ACC and All-America candidate, is an astounding anomaly in a sport synonymous with low graduation rates and dumbed-down majors. He's a 3.75 pre-med student who will finish his undergraduate degree in just two-and-a-half years; a National Leadership Honor Society inductee; the recipient of a $4,000 research grant for his work studying human mesenchymal stem cells and the facilitator of a health and living program at a charter school run by the Seminole Tribe of Florida.
"Myron's special, there's no doubt about it," said Florida State president T.K. Wetherell. "To listen to him talk about everything from football to organic chemistry, you think you're talking to a faculty member sometimes."
This fall, a Florida State faculty committee is expected to nominate Rolle for the prestigious Rhodes Scholarship. Only 32 students in the country receive the honor each year, and only two ACC athletes have won them in the past 31 years.
One of those recipients was former FSU shot-putter Garrett Johnson, a finalist at last month's U.S. Olympic trials and close friend of Rolle's. He enrolled at Oxford in 2006.
Jamie Purcell, director for FSU's Office of National Fellowships, worked with both Johnson and 2008 recipient Joseph O'Shea on their Rhodes applications and is now guiding Rolle. She feels as confident in Rolle's chances as she did those of Johnson and O'Shea, the school's first Rhodes recipients since 1976.
Said Purcell: "I don't think there's going to be another candidate like Myron Rolle in the near future."
************************************
Last fall, Florida State professor Timothy Logan was delivering a lecture in his human biochemistry class when he slipped in a joke about the Seminoles' struggling football team. Many of the 200 upperclassmen and graduate students in attendance -- most of them pre-med majors -- chuckled.
Afterward, an imposing, 6-foot-2, 220-pound student who had been sitting in the balcony of the auditorium walked up to Logan, introduced himself and politely expressed his displeasure with the joke.
It was Myron Rolle.
"I'd seen his name on the [class] roster, but I thought, 'It can't be that Myron Rolle,'" said Logan. "I've had two football players in my class in 14 years -- and the first one was a walk-on."
In what was then just his third semester at Florida State -- and during the heart of the Seminoles' 2007 season -- Rolle was not only enrolled in Logan's rigorous, upper-level biochemistry course, but by the end of the term, he was one of Logan's top students.
"I have kids in my class that are as bright as Myron, but most of them don't have the same demands on their time as a major college football player," said Logan. "And most of them didn't do as well as Myron."
Rolle has had his sights set on becoming a doctor since attending a 10-day, National Youth Leadership Forum on Medicine in New Orleans in the seventh grade. It was there he first learned about medicine from practicing doctors and where he first interacted with patients recently diagnosed with illness.
"I sort of fell in love with that profession and had my mind set that I wanted to do [pre-med] while still playing football," said Rolle. "Everything I did in high school built up to where I'm at now."
Rolle, the youngest of five brothers, grew up in Galloway, N.J., a standout in baseball, basketball and football. His parents, both Bahamian immigrants -- his father, Whitney, became a financial manager in Princeton, his mother, Beverly, a secretary at Trump Hotel and Casino -- made it abundantly clear that academics took precedence over athletics.
"My parents weren't playing around," said Rolle. "When I'd score touchdowns, hit home runs, score 25 points in a basketball game -- I'd get maybe a slushie. But if I came home with straight As I was getting two pizza pies from my favorite Italian restaurant."
Myron Rolle currently has a 3.75 GPA as a premed student at Florida State.
Courtesy of FSU Sports Information
To further his education, Myron's parents sent him to a pair of New Jersey boarding schools for high school. As he became a sought-after recruit during his junior year at The Hun School in Princeton -- receiving a reported 57 scholarship offers and becoming the top-rated prospect in the country by some publications -- Rolle began taking campus visits. Coaches quickly learned to tailor their pitch to appeal to Myron's academic interests.
Only Florida State, however, dedicated the first day of Rolle's two-day visit entirely to non-football subjects. He toured the medical school, met with Wetherell and provost Lawrence Abele and spoke with both Johnson, who had just begun the Rhodes application process, and Purcell.
Considering Florida State's reputation as a "party school," recruiting followers were surprised when, just before the start of his senior season, Rolle chose FSU over more esteemed universities such as Michigan and Penn State. But the school laid out a plan that would allow Rolle, who entered college with an astounding 22 advanced placement credits, to achieve his long-term plan of graduating in three years, playing in the NFL and, ultimately, attending med school.
"Whether you go to Princeton University or Florida State University, it's how hard you work," said Rolle.
"The same material is being taught at both schools, and if you push yourself to take honors courses, you really challenge yourself intellectually."
Upon enrolling at Florida State in January 2006, Rolle soon found out just how difficult it is to manage both ventures.
***********************************
Rolle, a hard-hitting rover with a linebacker's body, arrived in Tallahassee amidst enormous expectations and wasted no time living up to the billing. He made his debut in the Seminoles' nationally televised season opener against Miami, became a starter the fourth week of the season and finished third on the team with 77 tackles, earning recognition as the ACC's defensive newcomer of the year.
His sophomore season last fall did not go as smoothly.
"He had an outstanding year for a freshman, but was kind of average year last year," said longtime FSU defensive coordinator Mickey Andrews. "He wasn't as productive in terms of coming up with big plays, and he gave up more big plays than we wanted."
In a sport where players are expected to train year-round, Rolle may have fallen slightly behind when, in the spring of 2007, he chose to pursue another one of his academic dreams: Spending six weeks studying abroad in London. While the 'Noles had finished spring practice by the time he departed in May, Rolle missed the beginning of summer workouts with his teammates.
Johnson, who by then was studying at Oxford, helped Myron find locations to train, but, "there's no coach here, the facilities aren't the best and you don't have a training partner," said Johnson, who continued to compete in international events during his two years there while training for the recent Olympic trials. "Also, Oxford's a great place, but the weather sucks here."
Upon returning to Tallahassee, Rolle took a large summer course load to continue his accelerated degree track. Then came the fall, and classes like Logan's, which "many pre-meds tell me is the hardest class they have to take," said the professor. Other courses in Rolle's major require lab work that occasionally forces him to miss meetings or workouts.
"Sometimes I do think about how, if I wasn't a football player and I had more time to meet with my teachers, I could be a 4.0, cum laude student," said Rolle. "And if I wasn't a serious student and could put 95 percent of my time into football, there are so many more things I could do on the football field."
In individual meetings after last season, Andrews urged Rolle to treat football preparation with the same intensity he does his schoolwork.
"I asked him, how much time did you spend watching tape of Florida the week we played them compared to how much time you take to prepare for a chemistry exam?" said Andrews. "He didn't prepare [for the games] like he was trying to get an A. The message hit home. I saw a much more focused guy in the spring."
*************************
Rolle has shed five pounds since the spring and improved his 40 time to within a 4.5 range. He's been plenty busy with other endeavors as well.
He spends his mornings in Logan's lab, conducting research on the connection between energy metabolism and protein synthesis rates, a project with potential implications for stem-cell and cancer-cell research. Florida State awarded him an Undergraduate Research and Creative Activity Award, providing a $4,000 grant to conduct the study. He's completing his final undergraduate classes and will graduate Aug. 9.
In addition, Wetherell approached Rolle about working with the Seminole Tribe of Florida. In a project befitting his career interests, Rolle will spend several days later this month at a charter school on the tribe's reservation near Lake Okeechobee, Fla., teaching fifth graders about diabetes, obesity and other health-related issues. The children will be divided into teams and compete for points, and the winning team will get introduced on the field at FSU's Oct. 25 game against Virginia Tech.
And then there's the Rhodes Scholarship.
Myron Rolle spent six weeks studying abroad in London during the spring of 2007.
Arguably the most prestigious honor an American undergraduate can receive, the 106-year old award affords recipients a full scholarship to one of Oxford's postgraduate programs for up to two years. Notable alumni include former president Bill Clinton, former senator and New York Knicks star Bill Bradley and former Supreme Court justice Byron White.
As originally conceived by founder Cecil Rhodes, the award included a direct tie to athletics -- one of the four stated criteria is "energy to use one's talents to the full, as exemplified by fondness for and success in sports." Prominent football-playing Rhodes recipients include White (known as "the Whizzer" as a star running back at Colorado in the 1930s) and USC quarterback Pat Haden.
However, Haden, a 1975 Rhodes recipient and recently the chairman of California's selection committee, was one of the last prominent football players to receive the award. (Former Ohio State receiver Mike Lanese won in 1985. Former Marshall QB Chad Pennington was a finalist in 1999.) Haden says the obstacles facing a current football-playing applicant are far more difficult than when he applied.
"When I did it, we didn't even have offseason conditioning," said Haden. "Today, [football] is a full-time job."
The application process is extensive. Rolle must write a personal-statement about his life aspirations, interview with the nominating committee and provide eight letters of recommendation -- and that's just to gain entry to the competition. Assuming FSU nominates him, Rolle would then enter one of 16 regional competitions against fellow candidates from Florida, Alabama and Tennessee. Students often compete in their hometown's region rather than their school's, and, not coincidentally, the field is usually dominated by Ivy League and other private schools. (Only seven of last year's 32 winners came from so-called "state schools.")
Rolle is determined to make his application stand out -- so much so that he's contacted intermediaries about potential recommendation letters from presumptive Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama and Florida governor Charlie Crist.
"I want to study global health as my master's degree," said Rolle. "Studying with some of the best in the world -- it would open up so many doors if I was presented with that opportunity."
Were Rolle to be named a finalist, another potential clash of football versus academics awaits him. Candidates are required to appear before their region's selection committee (which in Rolle's case would take place in Birmingham, Ala.) on Nov. 22 -- the day of Florida State's game at Maryland. A spokesperson for the American Association of Rhodes Scholars said candidates are usually not allowed to interview on an alternate date. The winners are announced that weekend.
"I'm not sure what we'd do about that," said Purcell. "It's a problem we'd like to have. It would mean he's a finalist."
"I would hope we could come to a solution," said Rolle. "I definitely couldn't miss that game. I wouldn't do that to my teammates."
Rolle will not be the only football player in this year's competition. Chris Joseph, a starting offensive lineman for UCLA the past three seasons, graduated this spring with a 3.95 GPA in geography and is applying for the Rhodes and other international fellowships.
Joseph hopes that he or Rolle can win the award to help shed the ubiquitous "dumb jock" stereotype associated with the sport. Rolle's own team was stigmatized by an academic fraud scandal prior to last season's Music City Bowl for which 12 of his teammates will be suspended for this season's first three games.
"It would be great for college football," said Joseph. "It would debunk the myth that football players are all dumb jocks, because that's definitely not the case."
****************************************************************************
Joseph's situation is slightly different than Rolle's -- he opted not to pursue a professional football career. Rolle has planned all along to enter the NFL draft after his junior season ("We're approaching it like this is his senior year," said Andrews), and numerous draft analysts -- including SI.com's Andrew Perloff -- consider him a potential first-round pick.
During his tenure as a Rhodes Scholar in the '70s, Haden would spend half the year in Oxford and half the year with the Los Angeles Rams, which selected him in the seventh round of the 1976 draft. It's unlikely an NFL team would permit such an arrangement today.
So what would Rolle do if faced between the choice of cashing in on NFL millions (Colts receiver Anthony Gonzalez, the last pick of the 2007 first round, earned $5.4 million in guaranteed money) or a tuition-free Oxford experience? He'd likely have to delay one or the other, and both institutions will surely want to know his choice beforehand.
"It's definitely going to be tough," said Rolle. "I don't know what I want to do, but I know I want to win [the Rhodes]."
Haden hopes Rolle gets that opportunity but does not envy the decision.
"That's a hard one to advise a young man on," he said. "You could argue that you could always go on after your football career and get a graduate degree. On the other hand, you only get a chance to be a Rhodes Scholar once in your life.
"It was a life-altering experience for me," said Haden, who met students from around the world, "and the moniker stays with you the rest of your life. I hope if he is awarded the scholarship he'll seriously consider going [to Oxford]."
Rolle would shatter a whole lot of stereotypes if he does.
As has been in the news, Myron managed to get in his Rhodes scholarship interview and play in the November 22nd FSU game against Maryland --- the NCAA delayed the game, someone provided him with the use of a private plane, and he didn't start, but he met both appointments.
As has also been in the news, his interview apparently kicked ass, since he was awarded a Rhodes scholarship before the game started.
Now, Myron --- who is Samari Rolle's distant cousin (I was wondering about that) --- has chosen Oxofrd over the NFL, even though he was told he would go in the first or second rounds of the NFL draft. He will go for a one-year course of study in medical anthropology there, and come back to the US to enter the 2010 NFL Draft.
Priorities right in line here!
===========================================================================
Scholarly Seminole: NFL prospect Rolle also has Rhodes aspirations Story Highlights
• Rolle, a pre-med student, will graduate in two-and-a-half years
• FSU safety is projected as a first-round pick in April 2009
• Former USC QB Haden was a Div. I Rhodes scholar in '75
Myron Rolle started all 13 games at safety for the Seminoles last season.
Greg Drzazgowski/Icon SMI
Related Links
• PHOTO GALLERY: Myron Rolle studying abroad
• SI VAULT: Tracing the history of the Rolle family
By Stewart Mandel, SI.com
If all goes to plan on the field this fall, Florida State safety Myron Rolle will produce the kind of season that catapults him into the first round of next spring's NFL draft.
If all goes to plan off the field, Rolle will be faced with a vexing yet welcome decision: NFL locker room or Oxford University classroom?
Rolle, a preseason All-ACC and All-America candidate, is an astounding anomaly in a sport synonymous with low graduation rates and dumbed-down majors. He's a 3.75 pre-med student who will finish his undergraduate degree in just two-and-a-half years; a National Leadership Honor Society inductee; the recipient of a $4,000 research grant for his work studying human mesenchymal stem cells and the facilitator of a health and living program at a charter school run by the Seminole Tribe of Florida.
"Myron's special, there's no doubt about it," said Florida State president T.K. Wetherell. "To listen to him talk about everything from football to organic chemistry, you think you're talking to a faculty member sometimes."
This fall, a Florida State faculty committee is expected to nominate Rolle for the prestigious Rhodes Scholarship. Only 32 students in the country receive the honor each year, and only two ACC athletes have won them in the past 31 years.
One of those recipients was former FSU shot-putter Garrett Johnson, a finalist at last month's U.S. Olympic trials and close friend of Rolle's. He enrolled at Oxford in 2006.
Jamie Purcell, director for FSU's Office of National Fellowships, worked with both Johnson and 2008 recipient Joseph O'Shea on their Rhodes applications and is now guiding Rolle. She feels as confident in Rolle's chances as she did those of Johnson and O'Shea, the school's first Rhodes recipients since 1976.
Said Purcell: "I don't think there's going to be another candidate like Myron Rolle in the near future."
************************************
Last fall, Florida State professor Timothy Logan was delivering a lecture in his human biochemistry class when he slipped in a joke about the Seminoles' struggling football team. Many of the 200 upperclassmen and graduate students in attendance -- most of them pre-med majors -- chuckled.
Afterward, an imposing, 6-foot-2, 220-pound student who had been sitting in the balcony of the auditorium walked up to Logan, introduced himself and politely expressed his displeasure with the joke.
It was Myron Rolle.
"I'd seen his name on the [class] roster, but I thought, 'It can't be that Myron Rolle,'" said Logan. "I've had two football players in my class in 14 years -- and the first one was a walk-on."
In what was then just his third semester at Florida State -- and during the heart of the Seminoles' 2007 season -- Rolle was not only enrolled in Logan's rigorous, upper-level biochemistry course, but by the end of the term, he was one of Logan's top students.
"I have kids in my class that are as bright as Myron, but most of them don't have the same demands on their time as a major college football player," said Logan. "And most of them didn't do as well as Myron."
Rolle has had his sights set on becoming a doctor since attending a 10-day, National Youth Leadership Forum on Medicine in New Orleans in the seventh grade. It was there he first learned about medicine from practicing doctors and where he first interacted with patients recently diagnosed with illness.
"I sort of fell in love with that profession and had my mind set that I wanted to do [pre-med] while still playing football," said Rolle. "Everything I did in high school built up to where I'm at now."
Rolle, the youngest of five brothers, grew up in Galloway, N.J., a standout in baseball, basketball and football. His parents, both Bahamian immigrants -- his father, Whitney, became a financial manager in Princeton, his mother, Beverly, a secretary at Trump Hotel and Casino -- made it abundantly clear that academics took precedence over athletics.
"My parents weren't playing around," said Rolle. "When I'd score touchdowns, hit home runs, score 25 points in a basketball game -- I'd get maybe a slushie. But if I came home with straight As I was getting two pizza pies from my favorite Italian restaurant."
Myron Rolle currently has a 3.75 GPA as a premed student at Florida State.
Courtesy of FSU Sports Information
To further his education, Myron's parents sent him to a pair of New Jersey boarding schools for high school. As he became a sought-after recruit during his junior year at The Hun School in Princeton -- receiving a reported 57 scholarship offers and becoming the top-rated prospect in the country by some publications -- Rolle began taking campus visits. Coaches quickly learned to tailor their pitch to appeal to Myron's academic interests.
Only Florida State, however, dedicated the first day of Rolle's two-day visit entirely to non-football subjects. He toured the medical school, met with Wetherell and provost Lawrence Abele and spoke with both Johnson, who had just begun the Rhodes application process, and Purcell.
Considering Florida State's reputation as a "party school," recruiting followers were surprised when, just before the start of his senior season, Rolle chose FSU over more esteemed universities such as Michigan and Penn State. But the school laid out a plan that would allow Rolle, who entered college with an astounding 22 advanced placement credits, to achieve his long-term plan of graduating in three years, playing in the NFL and, ultimately, attending med school.
"Whether you go to Princeton University or Florida State University, it's how hard you work," said Rolle.
"The same material is being taught at both schools, and if you push yourself to take honors courses, you really challenge yourself intellectually."
Upon enrolling at Florida State in January 2006, Rolle soon found out just how difficult it is to manage both ventures.
***********************************
Rolle, a hard-hitting rover with a linebacker's body, arrived in Tallahassee amidst enormous expectations and wasted no time living up to the billing. He made his debut in the Seminoles' nationally televised season opener against Miami, became a starter the fourth week of the season and finished third on the team with 77 tackles, earning recognition as the ACC's defensive newcomer of the year.
His sophomore season last fall did not go as smoothly.
"He had an outstanding year for a freshman, but was kind of average year last year," said longtime FSU defensive coordinator Mickey Andrews. "He wasn't as productive in terms of coming up with big plays, and he gave up more big plays than we wanted."
In a sport where players are expected to train year-round, Rolle may have fallen slightly behind when, in the spring of 2007, he chose to pursue another one of his academic dreams: Spending six weeks studying abroad in London. While the 'Noles had finished spring practice by the time he departed in May, Rolle missed the beginning of summer workouts with his teammates.
Johnson, who by then was studying at Oxford, helped Myron find locations to train, but, "there's no coach here, the facilities aren't the best and you don't have a training partner," said Johnson, who continued to compete in international events during his two years there while training for the recent Olympic trials. "Also, Oxford's a great place, but the weather sucks here."
Upon returning to Tallahassee, Rolle took a large summer course load to continue his accelerated degree track. Then came the fall, and classes like Logan's, which "many pre-meds tell me is the hardest class they have to take," said the professor. Other courses in Rolle's major require lab work that occasionally forces him to miss meetings or workouts.
"Sometimes I do think about how, if I wasn't a football player and I had more time to meet with my teachers, I could be a 4.0, cum laude student," said Rolle. "And if I wasn't a serious student and could put 95 percent of my time into football, there are so many more things I could do on the football field."
In individual meetings after last season, Andrews urged Rolle to treat football preparation with the same intensity he does his schoolwork.
"I asked him, how much time did you spend watching tape of Florida the week we played them compared to how much time you take to prepare for a chemistry exam?" said Andrews. "He didn't prepare [for the games] like he was trying to get an A. The message hit home. I saw a much more focused guy in the spring."
*************************
Rolle has shed five pounds since the spring and improved his 40 time to within a 4.5 range. He's been plenty busy with other endeavors as well.
He spends his mornings in Logan's lab, conducting research on the connection between energy metabolism and protein synthesis rates, a project with potential implications for stem-cell and cancer-cell research. Florida State awarded him an Undergraduate Research and Creative Activity Award, providing a $4,000 grant to conduct the study. He's completing his final undergraduate classes and will graduate Aug. 9.
In addition, Wetherell approached Rolle about working with the Seminole Tribe of Florida. In a project befitting his career interests, Rolle will spend several days later this month at a charter school on the tribe's reservation near Lake Okeechobee, Fla., teaching fifth graders about diabetes, obesity and other health-related issues. The children will be divided into teams and compete for points, and the winning team will get introduced on the field at FSU's Oct. 25 game against Virginia Tech.
And then there's the Rhodes Scholarship.
Myron Rolle spent six weeks studying abroad in London during the spring of 2007.
Arguably the most prestigious honor an American undergraduate can receive, the 106-year old award affords recipients a full scholarship to one of Oxford's postgraduate programs for up to two years. Notable alumni include former president Bill Clinton, former senator and New York Knicks star Bill Bradley and former Supreme Court justice Byron White.
As originally conceived by founder Cecil Rhodes, the award included a direct tie to athletics -- one of the four stated criteria is "energy to use one's talents to the full, as exemplified by fondness for and success in sports." Prominent football-playing Rhodes recipients include White (known as "the Whizzer" as a star running back at Colorado in the 1930s) and USC quarterback Pat Haden.
However, Haden, a 1975 Rhodes recipient and recently the chairman of California's selection committee, was one of the last prominent football players to receive the award. (Former Ohio State receiver Mike Lanese won in 1985. Former Marshall QB Chad Pennington was a finalist in 1999.) Haden says the obstacles facing a current football-playing applicant are far more difficult than when he applied.
"When I did it, we didn't even have offseason conditioning," said Haden. "Today, [football] is a full-time job."
The application process is extensive. Rolle must write a personal-statement about his life aspirations, interview with the nominating committee and provide eight letters of recommendation -- and that's just to gain entry to the competition. Assuming FSU nominates him, Rolle would then enter one of 16 regional competitions against fellow candidates from Florida, Alabama and Tennessee. Students often compete in their hometown's region rather than their school's, and, not coincidentally, the field is usually dominated by Ivy League and other private schools. (Only seven of last year's 32 winners came from so-called "state schools.")
Rolle is determined to make his application stand out -- so much so that he's contacted intermediaries about potential recommendation letters from presumptive Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama and Florida governor Charlie Crist.
"I want to study global health as my master's degree," said Rolle. "Studying with some of the best in the world -- it would open up so many doors if I was presented with that opportunity."
Were Rolle to be named a finalist, another potential clash of football versus academics awaits him. Candidates are required to appear before their region's selection committee (which in Rolle's case would take place in Birmingham, Ala.) on Nov. 22 -- the day of Florida State's game at Maryland. A spokesperson for the American Association of Rhodes Scholars said candidates are usually not allowed to interview on an alternate date. The winners are announced that weekend.
"I'm not sure what we'd do about that," said Purcell. "It's a problem we'd like to have. It would mean he's a finalist."
"I would hope we could come to a solution," said Rolle. "I definitely couldn't miss that game. I wouldn't do that to my teammates."
Rolle will not be the only football player in this year's competition. Chris Joseph, a starting offensive lineman for UCLA the past three seasons, graduated this spring with a 3.95 GPA in geography and is applying for the Rhodes and other international fellowships.
Joseph hopes that he or Rolle can win the award to help shed the ubiquitous "dumb jock" stereotype associated with the sport. Rolle's own team was stigmatized by an academic fraud scandal prior to last season's Music City Bowl for which 12 of his teammates will be suspended for this season's first three games.
"It would be great for college football," said Joseph. "It would debunk the myth that football players are all dumb jocks, because that's definitely not the case."
****************************************************************************
Joseph's situation is slightly different than Rolle's -- he opted not to pursue a professional football career. Rolle has planned all along to enter the NFL draft after his junior season ("We're approaching it like this is his senior year," said Andrews), and numerous draft analysts -- including SI.com's Andrew Perloff -- consider him a potential first-round pick.
During his tenure as a Rhodes Scholar in the '70s, Haden would spend half the year in Oxford and half the year with the Los Angeles Rams, which selected him in the seventh round of the 1976 draft. It's unlikely an NFL team would permit such an arrangement today.
So what would Rolle do if faced between the choice of cashing in on NFL millions (Colts receiver Anthony Gonzalez, the last pick of the 2007 first round, earned $5.4 million in guaranteed money) or a tuition-free Oxford experience? He'd likely have to delay one or the other, and both institutions will surely want to know his choice beforehand.
"It's definitely going to be tough," said Rolle. "I don't know what I want to do, but I know I want to win [the Rhodes]."
Haden hopes Rolle gets that opportunity but does not envy the decision.
"That's a hard one to advise a young man on," he said. "You could argue that you could always go on after your football career and get a graduate degree. On the other hand, you only get a chance to be a Rhodes Scholar once in your life.
"It was a life-altering experience for me," said Haden, who met students from around the world, "and the moniker stays with you the rest of your life. I hope if he is awarded the scholarship he'll seriously consider going [to Oxford]."
Rolle would shatter a whole lot of stereotypes if he does.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
U.S. Military Report Warns 'Sudden Collapse' Of Mexico Is Possible
U.S. military report warns 'sudden collapse' of Mexico is possible
Posted: 01/13/2009 03:49:34 PM MST
President-elect Barack Obama listens as Mexico's President Felipe Calderon makes a statement to reporters in Washington, Monday, Jan. 12, 2009. Mexico is one of two countries that "bear consideration for a rapid and sudden collapse," according to a report by the U.S. Joint Forces Command on worldwide security threats. (AP photo)
The command's "Joint Operating Environment (JOE 2008)" report, which contains projections of global threats and potential next wars, puts Pakistan on the same level as Mexico. "In terms of worse-case scenarios for the Joint Force and indeed the world, two large and important states bear consideration for a rapid and sudden collapse: Pakistan and Mexico.
"The Mexican possibility may seem less likely, but the government, its politicians, police and judicial infrastructure are all under sustained assault and press by criminal gangs and drug cartels. How
This image provided by the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration shows a poster of 10 people identified as rival drug traffickers locked in a violent battle for control of Tijuana, Mexico. They include Fernando Sanchez Arellano, described by the DEA as leader of the Arellano Felix cartel, and his archrival, Eduardo Teodoro Garcia Simental. Mexico is one of two countries that "bear consideration for a rapid and sudden collapse," according to a report by the U.S. Joint Forces Command on worldwide security threats. The report is one in a serious focusing on Mexico's internal security problems, mostly stemming from drug violence and drug corruption. (AP Photo/DEA)
The U.S. Joint Forces Command, based in Norfolk, Va., is one of the Defense Departments combat commands that includes members of the different military service branches, active and reserves, as well as civilian and contract employees. One of its key roles is to help transform the U.S. military's capabilities.
In the foreword, Marine Gen. J.N. Mattis, the USJFC commander, said "Predictions about the future are always risky ... Regardless, if we do not try to forecast the future, there is no doubt that we will be caught off guard as we strive to protect this experiment in democracy that we call America."
The report is one in a serious focusing on Mexico's internal security problems, mostly stemming from drug violence and drug corruption. In recent weeks, the Department of Homeland Security and former U.S. drug czar Barry McCaffrey issued similar alerts about Mexico.
Despite such reports, El Pasoan Veronica Callaghan, a border business leader, said she keeps running into people in the region who "are in denial about what is happening in Mexico."
Last week, Mexican President Felipe Calderon instructed his embassy and consular officials to promote a positive image of Mexico.
The U.S. military report, which also analyzed economic situations in other countries, also noted that China has increased its influence in places where oil fields are present.
Diana Washington Valdez may be reached at dvaldez@elpasotimes.com; 546-6140.
Monday, January 12, 2009
My Friend Corin Strikes Again!
The folks over at the website this come from didn't like my link to it. Fair enough ... but did they have to swap it for the picture of the twit? All they had to do was make a blank jpeg ...!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Kinfolk In The White House
Lots of excitement about Michelle Obama's mother, Mrs. Marian Robinson, moving into the White House, at least for a while, to help the girls transition.
As a non-racist conservative, I think it's a great idea. Though I never knew my maternal grandmother, and though I did know my paternal grandmother all too well, I'm told that there is no love like grandparent's love. I would want nothing less for two little girls who must be a bit overwhelmed at all the recent changes in their lives.
Of course, hanging out on Free Republic, I have to confront the "I'm not racist, but I sure can whip out the ugliest JPEG of Aunt Esther in existence whenever the subject comes up" crowd. (More on that next post.) I couldn't believe that no other President ever had kinfolk move onto the third floor of the White House, so I did a little research.
I was right.
John Tyler (10th President, 1841-1845) apparently married well; his wealthy mother in law, Julianna Gardiner, paid for the redecoration of a goodly part of the White House when she got tired of its shabbiness.
The father-in-law of Benjamin Harrison (26th President, 1889 - 1893), the Reverend Doctor John Witherspoon Scott, lived with the Harrisons in the White House until the old gentleman died in 1892.
As a non-racist conservative, I think it's a great idea. Though I never knew my maternal grandmother, and though I did know my paternal grandmother all too well, I'm told that there is no love like grandparent's love. I would want nothing less for two little girls who must be a bit overwhelmed at all the recent changes in their lives.
Of course, hanging out on Free Republic, I have to confront the "I'm not racist, but I sure can whip out the ugliest JPEG of Aunt Esther in existence whenever the subject comes up" crowd. (More on that next post.) I couldn't believe that no other President ever had kinfolk move onto the third floor of the White House, so I did a little research.
I was right.
John Tyler (10th President, 1841-1845) apparently married well; his wealthy mother in law, Julianna Gardiner, paid for the redecoration of a goodly part of the White House when she got tired of its shabbiness.
The father-in-law of Benjamin Harrison (26th President, 1889 - 1893), the Reverend Doctor John Witherspoon Scott, lived with the Harrisons in the White House until the old gentleman died in 1892.
Andrew Jackson's whole blended family --- his dead wife's brother's three kids, his dead wife's great-nephew, and the three kids he and his wife took in when they were orphaned, his daughter-in-law (married to one of the nephew-in-laws Jackson adopted) --- fell in on the White House when Jackson served as President from 1829-1837.
U.S. Grant's father in law, Patrick Dent, a Southern sympathizer, hung around the White House for years.
FDR's
thirteen grandchildren were around so often that Eleanor had a playground put in on
the South Lawn.
Truman's MIL lived with her daughter and son-in-law
when he was VP (and VP Truman had a five-room apartment then, not an
official residence); she went to the White House with the rest of the
family. from all accounts, she was hell on wheels.
Eisenhower's MIL lived at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
Tipper
Gore's mother lived in a pool house on the grounds of the Naval
Observatory when Al was VP.
Laura Bush's mother stayed at the White
House for weeks at a time around the holidays.
And now, apparently, one more in-law is about to move in. some conservatives would have it be the ruination of the nation. Could it be the color of this woman's skin that makes all the difference?
Friday, January 09, 2009
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
"...And You Are ---?"
http://www.delawareonline.com/article/20090105/NEWS02/901050345/1006/NEWS
Sold-out movie thwarts Bidens
OK, if it wasn't them, then who were those Secret Service guys?
He's a heartbeat away from the presidency, but that apparently didn't help Joe
Employees at the Regal Brandywine Cinemas say the vice
president-elect and his wife, Jill, tried to attend the 7:45 showing of
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" at the theater on Concord Pike
but left after they were told the movie was sold out.
There's been no confirmation from the Biden camp, but the theater employees say they are sure it was him.
Inshirah
Muhamut, an associate manager, said she closed her box-office line when
she saw what appeared to be a Secret Service agent coming her way.
The man asked her about tickets for the movie, which stars Brad Pitt, then left.
A few minutes later, she said, the Bidens came into the lobby.
Jill Biden walked up to speak with Muhamut while Joe stood nearby.
"She
was asking me about other shows, but they really wanted to see
'Benjamin Button,' " Muhamut said. "He was maybe five feet away,
looking at her. He was standing with his other Secret Service men."
Remarkably,
none of the other moviegoers appeared to notice. Employees said nobody
mobbed Biden or called his name or asked for an autograph.
"It
didn't seem many people recognized him," said employee Becky Gingrich,
21. "Honestly, I think people were just too wrapped up in themselves to
notice."
The brush with Biden did give the employees a thrill, though.
"I
was a little excited -- I'm not gonna lie," said Muhamut, a 21-year-old
senior at West Chester University. "The Secret Service guy told me to
calm down."
Muhamut plans to go to the Jan. 20 inauguration, so seeing the Bidens up close was a kick.
"I
recognized him as soon as he came up," she said. "He had a black jacket
and jeans on. He looked real casual. His wife had on a very stylish
jacket."
Gingrich and Muhamut said the Bidens didn't ask for special treatment. They simply mulled over their movie options and left.
"We're
just so crazy in here tonight [with patrons] that we would have had to
go into the theater and move people around," Gingrich said.
Contact Angie Basiouny at 324-2796 or abasiouny@delawareonline.com.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Monday, January 05, 2009
Not Doing That Again!
Stayed up the better part of two days to build a customer's database ... after which she asked me if I actually knew Access.
Hell, after staying up like that I'm lucky to know my own damn name.
I'm not doing that again. First, I will work on things steadily. Two, I will not pull all-nighters. I'm too damn old.
If I never have another paying client, we will do just fine.
Hell, after staying up like that I'm lucky to know my own damn name.
I'm not doing that again. First, I will work on things steadily. Two, I will not pull all-nighters. I'm too damn old.
If I never have another paying client, we will do just fine.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
With Obama As President, Will Black People Fully Invest In America?
Was watching ESPN, and heard Tony Dungy, the coach of the Indianapolis Colts, said he was thinking of walking away from his multi-million dollar job and working with young men who needed guidance.
Now, Tony Dungy is a philanthropic sort of guy, and he has other, personal reasons to walk away from Indy. But I've never heard him talk that specifically before.
I've been hearing and reading other black folks who intend to plug in and get more active in the next years.
Obama's presence on the ticket persuaded people who had never voted before to go and exercise their civic duty. That includes Tyler Perry.
A new renaissance of racial cooperation --- black people and white people both throwing their full weights into the harness to pull this country down the road to Destiny --- is the very embodiment of Dr. King's vision. Maybe it would take an Obama to pull it off.
Hey, I can dream, too!
Now, Tony Dungy is a philanthropic sort of guy, and he has other, personal reasons to walk away from Indy. But I've never heard him talk that specifically before.
I've been hearing and reading other black folks who intend to plug in and get more active in the next years.
Obama's presence on the ticket persuaded people who had never voted before to go and exercise their civic duty. That includes Tyler Perry.
A new renaissance of racial cooperation --- black people and white people both throwing their full weights into the harness to pull this country down the road to Destiny --- is the very embodiment of Dr. King's vision. Maybe it would take an Obama to pull it off.
Hey, I can dream, too!
Saturday, January 03, 2009
New Terms I Learned Today, Part 2
Family Annihilator --- a person (usually male) who kills his whole family in a fit of rage.
Specifically, I was watching an episode of a TV documentary series called "What Should You Do?" One of the narrators, Candace DeLong, a former FBI agent and profiler, discussed family annihilators while showcasing the heroic actions of Alana Franklin, a true heroine.
Alana, at the age of eleven, was calm enough, practical enough, and smart enough to save her nephew from his crazy daddy. For her heroic actions, the Carnegie Hero Fund Commission awarded her a medal. To this date, she's the youngest recipient of the Carnegie Heroes Medal.
Specifically, I was watching an episode of a TV documentary series called "What Should You Do?" One of the narrators, Candace DeLong, a former FBI agent and profiler, discussed family annihilators while showcasing the heroic actions of Alana Franklin, a true heroine.
Alana, at the age of eleven, was calm enough, practical enough, and smart enough to save her nephew from his crazy daddy. For her heroic actions, the Carnegie Hero Fund Commission awarded her a medal. To this date, she's the youngest recipient of the Carnegie Heroes Medal.
Friday, January 02, 2009
New Terms I Learned Today, Part 1
FGM - Female Genital Mutilation.
According to the commercial I saw, 6,000 girls a day across the world suffer FGM every day.
The commercial claimed we could end domestic violence, rape, sex trafficking, and FGM. I see no end to the first three, but FGM can certainly be cured --- just as soon as all the people who think FGM is proper are dead.
It's wonderful to think that all humanity's ills can be cured by righteous thought ... but it's not true. All we can do is fight against evil with every weapon we can get our hands on.
According to the commercial I saw, 6,000 girls a day across the world suffer FGM every day.
The commercial claimed we could end domestic violence, rape, sex trafficking, and FGM. I see no end to the first three, but FGM can certainly be cured --- just as soon as all the people who think FGM is proper are dead.
It's wonderful to think that all humanity's ills can be cured by righteous thought ... but it's not true. All we can do is fight against evil with every weapon we can get our hands on.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
My New Year's Resolution ...
.. is to write in my blog every day of 2009.
Last year, I tried to do the 365 day Blog challenge, and failed. This year, I will not fail.
Today's mission accomplished. I'm very, very tired, and am going to bed in the not-too-far-off future.
Happy New Year, to one and all!
Last year, I tried to do the 365 day Blog challenge, and failed. This year, I will not fail.
Today's mission accomplished. I'm very, very tired, and am going to bed in the not-too-far-off future.
Happy New Year, to one and all!
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