Cowboy Confessional

Cowboy Confessional
Writer, songwriter, political provocateur
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Wayward Edwards

August 8th, 2008

John Edwards claims he is not the father of a child whelped by the woman with which he had an affair. For months Edwards publicly denied his tryst and now he denies he spawned the scion out of wedlock.

Where was Bill Clinton nine months before the blessed event?

While confessing to ABS News Edwards also said “You cannot beat me up more than I have already beaten up myself.” You would think a politician would understand the media better than that.

Dear John, the journalistic butt kicking has only begun. Your former friends in the media have found a more interesting story than Russian invading Georgia and will ride it like a payday cowboy on a Vegas hooker.

Speaking of Vegas, betrayed wife Hillary Clinton was in Las Vegas today and in reaction to Edwards confession said as little as possible.

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Cutter Up

August 4th, 2008

I spent the morning rubbing shoulders with politicians and other disreputable characters.

Cutter Bertholf entering San Francisco BayNormally an amputation without anesthesia would be preferable, but in this case I was enjoying the commissioning of the new Coast Guard Cutter Bertholf.

This ex-cowboy ended up in the company of unsavory elected ruffians by virtue of having grown-up with the Bertholf’s captain and his wife. We reconnected shortly before Captain Stadt, Michelle and the new ship arrived here in San Francisco.

The cutter emphasizes the old and new priorities of the Coast Guard. In a post 9/11 world, the coasties have an expanded mandate involving defense from the world’s nasty players. The Coast Guard’s  enhanced mission becomes clear when you discover that this 418 foot (127 meters for my foreign friends who use a vastly superior system of weights and measures) ship can sprint through the water at 28 knots, run for 60 days and reach 12,000 nautical miles.

Oh, and the laser aimed 57mm bow gun that fires 200 rounds per minute is a dead give away.

The Bertholf is the first cutter of this design — the Legend class — and I feel a bit sorry for Pat having to take the lumps that come with version 1.0 hardware (quite literally, that forward gun is serial number 001). But after a shakedown cruise, everything appears to be in fighting order.

Security was amusing as it always is when dignitaries are in town. Homeland Security secretary Michael Chertoff was at last night’s reception as well as today’s commissioning. I managed to leave the poor fellow alone. Taking the helm of a bureaucracy hastily assembled from bits and piece of the federal government in the panic of post 9/11 is enough pressure for one lifetime. Unsolicited critique from me was wholly unnecessary.

Another shot of Coast Guard cutter BertholfHowever, the parking lot and reception area had the usual assortment of large men in ugly suits, sporting dark sunglasses (at night while indoors), coiled cables coming from the ears and conspicuous bulges under the left side of the jackets. Piece of advice: don’t engage these guys in conversation, especially with an opening line like “So, what make of handgun do you carry?”

The security situation was even more entertaining outside. The Bertholf is moored at the Coast Guard island next to Alameda, California — two islands in San Francisco Bay. The ditch between the islands was littered with smaller Coast Guard patrol boats that slaked menacing sideways, bow always facing away from the Bertholf and the assembled guest.

And each had a very stern looking fellow on the bow, hands firmly gripping the Browning .50 caliber machine guns mounted there.

The Bertholf bridge is geek heaven. Nothing resembled the helm of ships you have seen before. The twin rudders are independently operated using two tiny dashboard wheels that I could cover with one hand. Large computer screens provide an at-a-glance view of the entire vessel’s status. Both screws are independent as well and have variable pitch controls, allowing the thrust of each to be tailored.

In a pinch you can steer the ship using just the propellers.

The captain and crew certainly are ready. Not a dullard in the pack. All young, healthy and seemingly eager to get the on with their duties. If al Quaeda reads this blog, then allow me to suggest not screwing with this crew. You’ll arrive in Paradise well ahead of schedule.

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Beyond Banishment

August 2nd, 2008

Evidently San Francisco is populated entirely by children.

Adults appear to be in short supply given the paternalistic exuberance of the city’s Board of Supervisors. The sups suffer under the odd delusion that they have acquired the power to control the lives of adults and free commerce to boot. Routinely, the Board of Supervisors legislates against a slate of selected sin. Given that bad behavior is a cherished San Francisco Barbary Coast tradition, such protective overdrive is out of character with the city’s very vibe.

Like any weary parent, the self-appointed guardians on the Board of Supervisors have had enough. Frustrated by their failures to ban everything else from plastic bags, to handguns, to parking, the sups have reasserted their non-existent parental authority over their citywide crib. In a display of statism that would make Mao flinch, San Fran supervisors have banned the sale of tobacco in pharmacies.

Gang violence, public defecation and hypodermic litter are secondary concerns.

“When it comes to pharmacies, I feel that our children and our teenagers get a different message,” said Public Health Director Mitch Katz. By “children and teenagers” Katz means adults, the only class of citizens legally enabled to buy tobacco.

Ill content with a single euphemism, Katz noted that San Francisco Supervisors curtailed tobacco sales in pharmacies because drug stores were the “group where the case was the strongest.” More plainly stated, pharmacies are small enough in number, and their tobacco sales are such a tiny part of their total revenue that the city doesn’t expect the pharmacies to put up much of a fight. Costco, Wal-Mart and trade associations that represent mom-and-pop liquor stores would bring out the heavy litigation artillery, so the City Supervisors decided to pick on someone not their size.

This ban on the sales of a recreational drug (nicotine) seems oddly out of sync with San Francisco’s schizophrenic peccancy. The very mantra of The City has long been whatever consenting adults enjoy should be allowed, with the exception of voting Republican which remains a hanging offense. Indeed the San Francisco enables many vices including both the right and the subsidized facilitation of injecting recreational drugs that are a tiny bit more potent than a pack of Marlboros.

Pharmaceutical sales prohibition of shag and snuff are just the beginning. Katz himself foreshadowed this eventuality suggesting the ban could be broadened in the future. The pharmacy prohibition seeks to desensitize San Francisco citizens to submissiveness. America’s new nanny, Supervisor Ross Mirkarimi, has set his sights beyond San Francisco saying “Whatever we can do to make this country a smoke-free zone, we should do it.”

My friends and family back in tobacco-growing Virginia will decline to participate. Virginians refuse to ban guns so they are equipped to enforce their prerogative.

Complicit in denying adults the right to commit decelerated suicide is the American Lung Association of California. Their policy director opined “It changes the conversation from something where people of conscience act to one where a city says, ‘You know what, we support healthier lifestyles in our city’”

Her slogan clearly demarks the line of contention. On one side are the citizens of San Francisco — people of conscience who routinely demand to live their personal lives with little restriction — and the city government, hell-bent on keeping them from doing so.

Perhaps San Francisco’s true children are confined to the Board of Supervisors.

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Busted Bronco

July 28th, 2008

Well, I’m evidently not the only cowboy in San Francisco these days, but I am the one with his clothing on and not in trouble with the law.

Robert Burck has ample New York notoriety for being the “Naked Cowboy”.  He roams around Times Square in his tighty-whities, strumming on a guitar and posing for photos.  It’s an odd living, but I won’t begrudge a busker who makes an honest buck.

Burck made his way here to San Francisco and was quickly arrested.  His Frisco rap sheet gives you an idea about what constitutes offensive behavior in San Fran.  Burck was not busted for bearing his bum - public nudity is practically mandatory in the Modern Sodom.  Nor was he arrested for singing badly which is offensive to anyone.

Burck was cited for “violating a posted sign” which informed people with reading skills that soliciting and playing musical instruments is unforgivable in Union Square and thus disturbing the downtown retail trade.

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Obama Dive

June 26th, 2008

In close elections, everything is decided by the undecided.

Registered independents are the perpetual American swing vote. They tend to be researchers and free thinkers. They rarely make up their minds until the last week before an election. But when you can get an early read on them it tends to prophetic.

Independents will crush Obama.

Several nationwide random surveys show a tight race between McCain and Obama. Some polls have the Dem and the Repub candidates less than two percentage points apart, well within the margin of error. Barr-ing a significant disruption, the 30% of America’s voting populace that declare themselves to be independent voters will decide our next President.

And right now, they ain’t backing Barack.

In a separate Times/Bloomberg poll (granted, these are two names not to be trusted) 54% of independents think that Obama is too inexperienced. Inexperienced in economics, foreign policy, energy policy … life. The one trait people rank as most important for the leader of the most powerful and occasionally clumsy nation on earth is a little experience.

Doing the math, a little north of 16% of Americans would vote against Barack today. If he and McCain are only a few points apart in most polls, then the game goes to McCain.

Bye bye Barack. Glad we hardly knew ya.

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