Friday, April 1, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The Class of 57: Thinking About Shit
“And the class of '57 had its dreams,
But living life day to day is never like it seems.
Things get complicated when you get past eighteen,
But the class of '57 had its dreams.”
The Statler Brothers - The Class of '57
OK, so I’m not old enough to have been a member of The Class of ’57, but since there have been no great songs ever written about the class of ’81, I think you get the point. Been reflecting on some stuff a lot lately, and hearing this song the other day made me kind of focus on it even more.
When I quit high school in the summer of 1980, at the end of my junior year, I had only one plan. Join the Army, learn a trade, and maybe see a bit of the world. I was living in a boom town gone bust, and joining the Army seemed like a way to get away from that, maybe make a better life for my own self. See what’s out on the distant horizon.
Thirty years and change down the road. An Army career that was about five years too short, to where I could secure that monthly retirement check and have the medical care for the rest of my life. I loved being a soldier, but for many reasons could never reach that Staff Sergeant level that would have allowed me to stay for 20 and retire. No, instead, I get shown the door at 15 years, which in many ways made me feel like a complete failure. Failure for myself, failure in the eyes of my wife and daughter.
I had an up and coming career in the Civil Service that I intentionally left, for reasons of loathing with the system, and for love. Disgust for a system that rewarded mediocrity while at the same time did nothing to make me want to stay. I also had to leave because if I had decided to stay on the path I was on, my ex-wife would have done everything in her power to delay our divorce and make me suffer.
A first marriage to a woman who I loved, but eventually felt trapped in a marriage to. That feeling of losing some of my manhood, having grown accustomed to being utterly manipulated and in some ways controlled by her will. Hen pecked, pussy whipped, whatever phrase you wish to use, that was me. Finally finding the courage to leave her, but making a lot of mistakes in the process that have cost me dearly, both emotionally and definitely financially. Alienating a daughter who means the world to me, and spending a lot of time trying to heal her wounds that resulted from the separation and divorce.
This takes us to where I am now. Four and a half years working in a job that I loved at first, but over the past year has led me to hate. Leadership in name only, from the CEO level down to individual supervisors. If I was a real prick, I could rob the company absolutely blind, but I do have a smidgen of integrity left.
Issues from my past coming home to roost lately, consequences for shit that I have done and left undone.
Married to a woman I love dearly, but who I am beginning to believe barely tolerates me. Although we have been married for over 18 months, we have only spent about 11 of those months actually physically together. This was due to family problems in the Philippines as well as health problems for my wife. She has been sick a lot since moving to Guam, and is sick right now. Granted, I have not been the best husband in the world. Far from it. I have my share of blame in all of it as well, and I don’t want it to sound like she is the reason our marriage is a little rough. No, we both have contributed to the shakiness of our marriage, me definitely more than her.
A daughter who I love dearly, but for financial reasons, have not been able to spend any time with in the last 4 ½ years. A son-in-law that I have never met. A grand daughter who I would love to spend hours playing with and hanging out with that I have never been around, and probably won’t be able to be around for a while longer.
Granted, there have been some good things. In fact, a lot of them. I had the opportunity to help raise a wonderful daughter, and, more importantly, a good person, who I love more than my own life. She’s an amazing person, an awesome mother, and just fun to hang around with.
Seen more of the world than I ever thought I would. Camped out in Bavaria. Walked on the Great Wall of China. Ate crunchy pig skin in the middle of a rice field in the Philippines. Rode the Bullet Train and got falling down drunk in karaoke bars in Japan. Spent years living in Korea and Germany, becoming intimately familiar with both of those countries. I’ve been all over the world, and have definitely “stomped the terra” in more places than I can remember.
Yeah, like Joe Walsh said, “I can’t complain but sometimes I still do, life’s been good to me so far.” Still, with that said, I can’t help but wonder if it couldn’t have been different, been better.
Makes a brotha think sometimes.
But living life day to day is never like it seems.
Things get complicated when you get past eighteen,
But the class of '57 had its dreams.”
The Statler Brothers - The Class of '57
OK, so I’m not old enough to have been a member of The Class of ’57, but since there have been no great songs ever written about the class of ’81, I think you get the point. Been reflecting on some stuff a lot lately, and hearing this song the other day made me kind of focus on it even more.
When I quit high school in the summer of 1980, at the end of my junior year, I had only one plan. Join the Army, learn a trade, and maybe see a bit of the world. I was living in a boom town gone bust, and joining the Army seemed like a way to get away from that, maybe make a better life for my own self. See what’s out on the distant horizon.
Thirty years and change down the road. An Army career that was about five years too short, to where I could secure that monthly retirement check and have the medical care for the rest of my life. I loved being a soldier, but for many reasons could never reach that Staff Sergeant level that would have allowed me to stay for 20 and retire. No, instead, I get shown the door at 15 years, which in many ways made me feel like a complete failure. Failure for myself, failure in the eyes of my wife and daughter.
I had an up and coming career in the Civil Service that I intentionally left, for reasons of loathing with the system, and for love. Disgust for a system that rewarded mediocrity while at the same time did nothing to make me want to stay. I also had to leave because if I had decided to stay on the path I was on, my ex-wife would have done everything in her power to delay our divorce and make me suffer.
A first marriage to a woman who I loved, but eventually felt trapped in a marriage to. That feeling of losing some of my manhood, having grown accustomed to being utterly manipulated and in some ways controlled by her will. Hen pecked, pussy whipped, whatever phrase you wish to use, that was me. Finally finding the courage to leave her, but making a lot of mistakes in the process that have cost me dearly, both emotionally and definitely financially. Alienating a daughter who means the world to me, and spending a lot of time trying to heal her wounds that resulted from the separation and divorce.
This takes us to where I am now. Four and a half years working in a job that I loved at first, but over the past year has led me to hate. Leadership in name only, from the CEO level down to individual supervisors. If I was a real prick, I could rob the company absolutely blind, but I do have a smidgen of integrity left.
Issues from my past coming home to roost lately, consequences for shit that I have done and left undone.
Married to a woman I love dearly, but who I am beginning to believe barely tolerates me. Although we have been married for over 18 months, we have only spent about 11 of those months actually physically together. This was due to family problems in the Philippines as well as health problems for my wife. She has been sick a lot since moving to Guam, and is sick right now. Granted, I have not been the best husband in the world. Far from it. I have my share of blame in all of it as well, and I don’t want it to sound like she is the reason our marriage is a little rough. No, we both have contributed to the shakiness of our marriage, me definitely more than her.
A daughter who I love dearly, but for financial reasons, have not been able to spend any time with in the last 4 ½ years. A son-in-law that I have never met. A grand daughter who I would love to spend hours playing with and hanging out with that I have never been around, and probably won’t be able to be around for a while longer.
Granted, there have been some good things. In fact, a lot of them. I had the opportunity to help raise a wonderful daughter, and, more importantly, a good person, who I love more than my own life. She’s an amazing person, an awesome mother, and just fun to hang around with.
Seen more of the world than I ever thought I would. Camped out in Bavaria. Walked on the Great Wall of China. Ate crunchy pig skin in the middle of a rice field in the Philippines. Rode the Bullet Train and got falling down drunk in karaoke bars in Japan. Spent years living in Korea and Germany, becoming intimately familiar with both of those countries. I’ve been all over the world, and have definitely “stomped the terra” in more places than I can remember.
Yeah, like Joe Walsh said, “I can’t complain but sometimes I still do, life’s been good to me so far.” Still, with that said, I can’t help but wonder if it couldn’t have been different, been better.
Makes a brotha think sometimes.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Joke That is Guam Memorial Hospital
Today here at the Guam Desk, we will be discussing Health Care. More specifically, shitty health care.
In the four years that I have lived on Guam, I have never had to avail myself of treatment at Guam Memorial Hospital for any reason. That unfortunately changed the other night, and I wanted to share my experience with the public as a word of warning.
For the past couple of weeks, my beloved wife has been suffering the effects of a pinched nerve in her neck. This pinched nerve has caused her no small amount of grief, causing her a lot of pain in her neck, shoulder and her entire right arm. She has been getting treatments from a chiropractor and another doctor up until now. Sunday night, though, the pain became unbearable for her, so we decided to hit the Emergency Room at Guam Memorial Hospital.
As I said earlier, this was our first experience with GMH, and I’m hoping it will be the last one. We arrived a few minutes after 10 PM to find that the waiting room for the ER was packed to the rafters with people awaiting treatment. We were told to fill out a form and that a doctor would be with us right away. We sat in a room filled with people, and noticed that not very many people were actually being seen by a doctor. There was a lot of activity from the administrative staff, who seemed not so concerned about what was wrong with anyone, but Very Concerned about who did or did not have insurance. An hour goes by, and we have yet to even be seen by the triage nurse who will take her vitals and ask what the hell is wrong with her, much less an actual real life doctor.
Another half hour slides by, and by then both me and the wife are well and truly pissed off. We have both been in emergency rooms in other countries that were more organized, better staffed, and showed more concern for the patients than this shithole does. The wife is in a ton of pain, and there are others in the waiting room who are even more screwed up. A little boy sits beside us who is obviously having some serious trouble breathing, but alas no one on the hospital staff seems to give a shit. They are worried stiff about their little forms being filled out correctly and placed in their little box, which they will get around to looking at a total of 3 times in two hours, but they seem immune to the people actually waiting for treatment.
Finally the wife is seen by the triage nurse, who takes her vitals and then puts her paperwork on a clipboard. Thirty minutes later, she is finally taken in to the actual Emergency Room, in which I am not allowed to go. I go outside, and knowing that I’m going to be there for a while judging by our treatment so far, decide to get a Pepsi and a smoke. I light up right below the sign that says “No Smoking on Hospital Grounds”silently daring anyone to say anything to me about it. Outside in the Emergency Room parking lot, there are a ton of people just sitting on the curb, waiting, waiting, waiting and more waiting. Mind you, this is at 1 AM on a Monday morning. The air of Utter Failure and Desperation surrounds everyone out there.
The wife finally emerges, and tells me that we have to wait for the discharge paperwork to come through. The doctor, who she said treated her like she was some kind of scumbag, gave her a shot for her pain and a prescription for Percocet. She looks like she feels a little bit better, which is good. Another 30 minutes pass, when we are finally given our paperwork and told to pay the $100 deductible for the emergency room visit. Now I knew that since we were going to an ER, the deductible would be a little high, but $200 seemed more than a bit outrageous.
We finally get home around 2 AM, but sleep doesn’t come right away. Both of us are still smoking mad about the way we had been treated at this supposed “healing center”. Now I understand that ER’s are busy places, and sometimes you have to wait to be seen by a doctor, but this was Fucking Ridiculous. People are treated like so many cattle, and there is an air of Hopelessness about the place. It’s as if they simply Don’t Care, and if someone drops dead in the parking lot, oh well.
Before this, I thought all of the rumors and harsh talk about GMH that I had heard were exaggerations and so much bullshit. Now I know that it’s as bad as people have said, or for that matter, even worse. From now on, we will absolutely avoid GMH for all of our health care needs, and if either one of us ever needs surgery, we’ll get it done in Manila. The added price of an airplane ticket would be better than having to deal with these Hopeless Fuckers.
Yeah, I dare anyone to tell me that health care on Guam isn’t broke, even if you do have good health insurance. There are syphilis clinics in Third World countries that provide better health care than GMH. Unfortunately, no one in GovGuam seems to give two shits, and I’m Real Sure that our new governor is going to do something about it.
It’s been three days now, and I’m still mightily pissed anytime I think about this.
In the four years that I have lived on Guam, I have never had to avail myself of treatment at Guam Memorial Hospital for any reason. That unfortunately changed the other night, and I wanted to share my experience with the public as a word of warning.
For the past couple of weeks, my beloved wife has been suffering the effects of a pinched nerve in her neck. This pinched nerve has caused her no small amount of grief, causing her a lot of pain in her neck, shoulder and her entire right arm. She has been getting treatments from a chiropractor and another doctor up until now. Sunday night, though, the pain became unbearable for her, so we decided to hit the Emergency Room at Guam Memorial Hospital.
As I said earlier, this was our first experience with GMH, and I’m hoping it will be the last one. We arrived a few minutes after 10 PM to find that the waiting room for the ER was packed to the rafters with people awaiting treatment. We were told to fill out a form and that a doctor would be with us right away. We sat in a room filled with people, and noticed that not very many people were actually being seen by a doctor. There was a lot of activity from the administrative staff, who seemed not so concerned about what was wrong with anyone, but Very Concerned about who did or did not have insurance. An hour goes by, and we have yet to even be seen by the triage nurse who will take her vitals and ask what the hell is wrong with her, much less an actual real life doctor.
Another half hour slides by, and by then both me and the wife are well and truly pissed off. We have both been in emergency rooms in other countries that were more organized, better staffed, and showed more concern for the patients than this shithole does. The wife is in a ton of pain, and there are others in the waiting room who are even more screwed up. A little boy sits beside us who is obviously having some serious trouble breathing, but alas no one on the hospital staff seems to give a shit. They are worried stiff about their little forms being filled out correctly and placed in their little box, which they will get around to looking at a total of 3 times in two hours, but they seem immune to the people actually waiting for treatment.
Finally the wife is seen by the triage nurse, who takes her vitals and then puts her paperwork on a clipboard. Thirty minutes later, she is finally taken in to the actual Emergency Room, in which I am not allowed to go. I go outside, and knowing that I’m going to be there for a while judging by our treatment so far, decide to get a Pepsi and a smoke. I light up right below the sign that says “No Smoking on Hospital Grounds”silently daring anyone to say anything to me about it. Outside in the Emergency Room parking lot, there are a ton of people just sitting on the curb, waiting, waiting, waiting and more waiting. Mind you, this is at 1 AM on a Monday morning. The air of Utter Failure and Desperation surrounds everyone out there.
The wife finally emerges, and tells me that we have to wait for the discharge paperwork to come through. The doctor, who she said treated her like she was some kind of scumbag, gave her a shot for her pain and a prescription for Percocet. She looks like she feels a little bit better, which is good. Another 30 minutes pass, when we are finally given our paperwork and told to pay the $100 deductible for the emergency room visit. Now I knew that since we were going to an ER, the deductible would be a little high, but $200 seemed more than a bit outrageous.
We finally get home around 2 AM, but sleep doesn’t come right away. Both of us are still smoking mad about the way we had been treated at this supposed “healing center”. Now I understand that ER’s are busy places, and sometimes you have to wait to be seen by a doctor, but this was Fucking Ridiculous. People are treated like so many cattle, and there is an air of Hopelessness about the place. It’s as if they simply Don’t Care, and if someone drops dead in the parking lot, oh well.
Before this, I thought all of the rumors and harsh talk about GMH that I had heard were exaggerations and so much bullshit. Now I know that it’s as bad as people have said, or for that matter, even worse. From now on, we will absolutely avoid GMH for all of our health care needs, and if either one of us ever needs surgery, we’ll get it done in Manila. The added price of an airplane ticket would be better than having to deal with these Hopeless Fuckers.
Yeah, I dare anyone to tell me that health care on Guam isn’t broke, even if you do have good health insurance. There are syphilis clinics in Third World countries that provide better health care than GMH. Unfortunately, no one in GovGuam seems to give two shits, and I’m Real Sure that our new governor is going to do something about it.
It’s been three days now, and I’m still mightily pissed anytime I think about this.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A Welfare State of Mind
Notes and observations from this precarious thing that we lovingly refer to as “The Guam Desk.
There are only a few things about living on Guam that truly piss me off, and now is as good a time as any to talk about one of the biggest ones. I’ve written about welfare and food stamps before in different blogs, and I think it’s time to rewalk this particular piece of terra.
It’s been said before by a lot of people, including me, that welfare is a good thing if used in the proper way for its intended purpose. It’s a sad fact that, every now and then, we all run into Hard Times, in one form or fashion. Sometimes shit just happens, many times it’s shit that isn’t something we as individuals can control. It’s those times, when things start looking dire that some help might, for lack of a better word, help.
What pisses me off now and what has pissed me off about welfare on Guam in general is that some people look at it as a Lifestyle and not a temporary situation. I have heard stories where people have been on food stamps for 8 years. Eight years! They’ve been on it forever, and will continue to be on it with absolutely zero effort taken to try to get off of it, get some employment. And why should they? Just hang out, fuck a lot, and make more little welfare babies, and the money will continue to roll in. The checks and the food stamps coming in every month are taken for granted, like it’s a Normal part of life, something that their large number of kids will do when they get old enough to draw their own checks.
Now before someone tells me that I’m cruel and have no heart, let me say this. I understand that other than the tourism industry, there really isn’t a hell of a lot of industry here on Guam. No factories or companies that produce products that can be exported off island, or at least none of great value. So I totally understand that sometimes people can go a long time without work. With that said though, there has to be a limit to all of it.
Welfare and food stamps, from the very beginning, were set up to be a Temporary Situation. As I said, we all at one point or another run into problems, and some of us run into Huge Problems. These programs were set up so that people could get Temporary relief until they can find employment, so that they can be self supporting and take their place as valuable members of society.
And, the helpful kind of guy that I am, I have some advice for some of my fellow citizens, one group in particular who have been riding the Food Stamp/Welfare Gravy Train for a long time. The people I am referring to are those large ladies I see in the grocery store at the first of every month who are at least 30-50 pounds overweight and paying for your groceries with food stamps. Not only are you apparently being well fed from the largess you are getting from the food stamps/welfare, these free groceries are apparently making you quite fertile, as most of you have at least 3-8 kids crowded around you at the grocery. Because of your ability to crank out children at an alarming rate, this also increases your entitlement for more food stamps/welfare. Here’s the advice I would like to lay down to you ladies:
Stop Fucking!
Put ………The………..Dick……….Down!
If you’re not willing to do that, then at least have that worthless bastard (or bastards) who keep getting you pregnant wear a condom. Failing that, waddle your gigantic morbidly obese ass down to Public Health and see about getting your own self some birth control pills or one of those birth control meds that you only have to take every six months. Fuck what the Catholic Church thinks about birth control. Are they gonna put rice in your kids mouths or pay your rent? They are most certainly not. Besides, taking this religious argument further, if you’re fucking for fun, you are already breaking God’s law by succumbing to Sins of the Flesh. Do the right thing. In the end, it will save us all a lot of trouble, and who knows, you just might be able to find some work if you don’t have the 10 kids to care for.
You want to do something that’s Good and Necessary, Governor-Elect Calvo? Fix the welfare problem. Put a mandatory cap of 3 years on it. Start up some jobs programs, maybe some free Japanese language programs as well. The tourist industry relies on Jap speakers, and this would at least help a little bit with the burden. And, please, put something into law that, if someone moves here from another island (like Chuuk), they should at least have a job when they get here, and not go automatically on food stamps. That would help solve a lot of problems.
Until then, I’ll just continue to avoid the grocery store on the first of every month.
There are only a few things about living on Guam that truly piss me off, and now is as good a time as any to talk about one of the biggest ones. I’ve written about welfare and food stamps before in different blogs, and I think it’s time to rewalk this particular piece of terra.
It’s been said before by a lot of people, including me, that welfare is a good thing if used in the proper way for its intended purpose. It’s a sad fact that, every now and then, we all run into Hard Times, in one form or fashion. Sometimes shit just happens, many times it’s shit that isn’t something we as individuals can control. It’s those times, when things start looking dire that some help might, for lack of a better word, help.
What pisses me off now and what has pissed me off about welfare on Guam in general is that some people look at it as a Lifestyle and not a temporary situation. I have heard stories where people have been on food stamps for 8 years. Eight years! They’ve been on it forever, and will continue to be on it with absolutely zero effort taken to try to get off of it, get some employment. And why should they? Just hang out, fuck a lot, and make more little welfare babies, and the money will continue to roll in. The checks and the food stamps coming in every month are taken for granted, like it’s a Normal part of life, something that their large number of kids will do when they get old enough to draw their own checks.
Now before someone tells me that I’m cruel and have no heart, let me say this. I understand that other than the tourism industry, there really isn’t a hell of a lot of industry here on Guam. No factories or companies that produce products that can be exported off island, or at least none of great value. So I totally understand that sometimes people can go a long time without work. With that said though, there has to be a limit to all of it.
Welfare and food stamps, from the very beginning, were set up to be a Temporary Situation. As I said, we all at one point or another run into problems, and some of us run into Huge Problems. These programs were set up so that people could get Temporary relief until they can find employment, so that they can be self supporting and take their place as valuable members of society.
And, the helpful kind of guy that I am, I have some advice for some of my fellow citizens, one group in particular who have been riding the Food Stamp/Welfare Gravy Train for a long time. The people I am referring to are those large ladies I see in the grocery store at the first of every month who are at least 30-50 pounds overweight and paying for your groceries with food stamps. Not only are you apparently being well fed from the largess you are getting from the food stamps/welfare, these free groceries are apparently making you quite fertile, as most of you have at least 3-8 kids crowded around you at the grocery. Because of your ability to crank out children at an alarming rate, this also increases your entitlement for more food stamps/welfare. Here’s the advice I would like to lay down to you ladies:
Stop Fucking!
Put ………The………..Dick……….Down!
If you’re not willing to do that, then at least have that worthless bastard (or bastards) who keep getting you pregnant wear a condom. Failing that, waddle your gigantic morbidly obese ass down to Public Health and see about getting your own self some birth control pills or one of those birth control meds that you only have to take every six months. Fuck what the Catholic Church thinks about birth control. Are they gonna put rice in your kids mouths or pay your rent? They are most certainly not. Besides, taking this religious argument further, if you’re fucking for fun, you are already breaking God’s law by succumbing to Sins of the Flesh. Do the right thing. In the end, it will save us all a lot of trouble, and who knows, you just might be able to find some work if you don’t have the 10 kids to care for.
You want to do something that’s Good and Necessary, Governor-Elect Calvo? Fix the welfare problem. Put a mandatory cap of 3 years on it. Start up some jobs programs, maybe some free Japanese language programs as well. The tourist industry relies on Jap speakers, and this would at least help a little bit with the burden. And, please, put something into law that, if someone moves here from another island (like Chuuk), they should at least have a job when they get here, and not go automatically on food stamps. That would help solve a lot of problems.
Until then, I’ll just continue to avoid the grocery store on the first of every month.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Election Reform, Anyone?
The Ugliness, Dumbness, Stupidity and Hopelessness of the election that we just completed here on Guam has led me to believe that there should be a serious change in the way that elections are done. From the very beginning, where the candidates let the world know that they are “seeking public office” right through to the swearing in, there are some serious problems with the process. The system its own self is broken, and must be fixed in order for the people of Guam to get the kind of leadership we deserve.
Being the helpful kind of guy that I am, here are some suggestions that I think should be implemented.
Shorten the Campaign Season
Both camps running for governor campaigned for nearly two years. Two Years. By the time the election rolled around, most of us were really sick of all of the bullshit and just wanted to get it over with. Under my new rules, a candidate could not declare himself until May 1st, and not a day sooner. That means no commercials, no signs, no glad-handing, nothing. Zip. Nada. You get the six months and that’s it, period.
Limit Advertising in the Media
By the middle of September, it seemed like every time you turned on your television for a little mindless entertainment, you had Brother Eddie and Uncle Carl and their relatives on the screen beating the shit out of each other. My rules would limit the number of commercials allowed on the airwaves to 1 30-second ad per hour per campaign, maximum. Print ads in the paper would be limited in size to one quarter page in any given issue. The only people allowed to appear in a candidates radio/television ads would be the candidates themselves and no one else. No kids saying that if they could vote they would vote for a particular candidate. No wives/mothers of candidates telling us how great and groovy their relative is. Radio and television stations who violate this policy would be fined $10,000 per violation, payable in cash dollars within 24 hours of the fine being levied. If no payment, the fine doubles every 24 hours.
Platform Availability
Each candidate for governor would be required to release his/her platform to the general public a minimum of 3 months prior to the election. The candidates for governor in the election that just ended released their platforms a little more than 72 hours prior to votes being cast, which gave no one any time to actually read the damn things. In this day and age where everyone has the Internet in their homes and even on their smart phones, this was beyond stupid. (Unless of course the respective candidates really didn’t know what the fuck they stood for until 72 hours before the election.)
Signage
One of the things that REALLY pissed me off about the election is the fact that every person running for office plastered their respective posters and billboards everywhere. Some of these posters were huge, and you could not escape them. I was at a point where I wanted to commit criminal mischief by defacing every sign I saw with a paintball gun. The sign wars that were going on in Yigo were as if the candidates were having a “my dick is bigger than your dick” contest. One camp had a ginormous sign by the side of the highway, with the other candidate having a sign TWICE AS BIG within 50 feet of the other candidates. This also happened in several other places as well, but the scene in Yigo in the parking lot at Mark’s Hardware was just ridiculously stupid. Good God, you could have landed a small plane on the Guiterrez/Aguon sign.
Signs under my rules would be limited to be no larger than 4 feet by 4 feet, and can ONLY be posted on public lands in designated areas, say, adjacent to the village mayor’s office. Any campaign posting signage anywhere else would be fined heavily. NOT every 10 feet on the side of every single road on the island, NOT adjacent to polling places, NOT next to schools or churches. Violate the rules and you are no longer allowed to put up any signs anywhere.
If a candidate is deemed to be Hideously Ugly, then no signs with head shots would be allowed at all.
The Door to Door Idiots
It was bad enough that you couldn’t escape the election when you turned on the TV or radio or newspaper, or, for that matter, simply driving to work every morning. The people knocking on my door wanting to come in and talk about their candidate was really too much. Some of these volunteers were worse than religious fanatics, stopping by every other weekend, a steely look of determination and civic pride in their eyes, wanting to come into the house and talk about "The Candidate". Under my new rules, a citizen would have the right to shoot mace, pepper spray, or other Chemical Deterrents at these peoples faces without fear of criminal prosecution. After a guy has had to eat a face full of pepper spray 3 or 4 times, I think that would discourage the door knocking. This should also be a legal policy when it comes to the religious fanatics as well, especially Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Campaign Trucks
You might have heard them rolling through your neighborhood. The pickup trucks with the big-assed posters mounted in the back, playing music and campaign gibberish at audible levels well above the sonic pain threshold. These should be abolished, and citizens should have the right to open fire at these trucks if they come through their neighborhoods (small calibers only aiming at the signs only).
Not only would my changes help us to elect someone we could trust, they would also provide some quality entertainment for the citizens of Guam when the campaigns break the rules. If anything, it would at least make Election Season a bit more tolerable.
Being the helpful kind of guy that I am, here are some suggestions that I think should be implemented.
Shorten the Campaign Season
Both camps running for governor campaigned for nearly two years. Two Years. By the time the election rolled around, most of us were really sick of all of the bullshit and just wanted to get it over with. Under my new rules, a candidate could not declare himself until May 1st, and not a day sooner. That means no commercials, no signs, no glad-handing, nothing. Zip. Nada. You get the six months and that’s it, period.
Limit Advertising in the Media
By the middle of September, it seemed like every time you turned on your television for a little mindless entertainment, you had Brother Eddie and Uncle Carl and their relatives on the screen beating the shit out of each other. My rules would limit the number of commercials allowed on the airwaves to 1 30-second ad per hour per campaign, maximum. Print ads in the paper would be limited in size to one quarter page in any given issue. The only people allowed to appear in a candidates radio/television ads would be the candidates themselves and no one else. No kids saying that if they could vote they would vote for a particular candidate. No wives/mothers of candidates telling us how great and groovy their relative is. Radio and television stations who violate this policy would be fined $10,000 per violation, payable in cash dollars within 24 hours of the fine being levied. If no payment, the fine doubles every 24 hours.
Platform Availability
Each candidate for governor would be required to release his/her platform to the general public a minimum of 3 months prior to the election. The candidates for governor in the election that just ended released their platforms a little more than 72 hours prior to votes being cast, which gave no one any time to actually read the damn things. In this day and age where everyone has the Internet in their homes and even on their smart phones, this was beyond stupid. (Unless of course the respective candidates really didn’t know what the fuck they stood for until 72 hours before the election.)
Signage
One of the things that REALLY pissed me off about the election is the fact that every person running for office plastered their respective posters and billboards everywhere. Some of these posters were huge, and you could not escape them. I was at a point where I wanted to commit criminal mischief by defacing every sign I saw with a paintball gun. The sign wars that were going on in Yigo were as if the candidates were having a “my dick is bigger than your dick” contest. One camp had a ginormous sign by the side of the highway, with the other candidate having a sign TWICE AS BIG within 50 feet of the other candidates. This also happened in several other places as well, but the scene in Yigo in the parking lot at Mark’s Hardware was just ridiculously stupid. Good God, you could have landed a small plane on the Guiterrez/Aguon sign.
Signs under my rules would be limited to be no larger than 4 feet by 4 feet, and can ONLY be posted on public lands in designated areas, say, adjacent to the village mayor’s office. Any campaign posting signage anywhere else would be fined heavily. NOT every 10 feet on the side of every single road on the island, NOT adjacent to polling places, NOT next to schools or churches. Violate the rules and you are no longer allowed to put up any signs anywhere.
If a candidate is deemed to be Hideously Ugly, then no signs with head shots would be allowed at all.
The Door to Door Idiots
It was bad enough that you couldn’t escape the election when you turned on the TV or radio or newspaper, or, for that matter, simply driving to work every morning. The people knocking on my door wanting to come in and talk about their candidate was really too much. Some of these volunteers were worse than religious fanatics, stopping by every other weekend, a steely look of determination and civic pride in their eyes, wanting to come into the house and talk about "The Candidate". Under my new rules, a citizen would have the right to shoot mace, pepper spray, or other Chemical Deterrents at these peoples faces without fear of criminal prosecution. After a guy has had to eat a face full of pepper spray 3 or 4 times, I think that would discourage the door knocking. This should also be a legal policy when it comes to the religious fanatics as well, especially Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Campaign Trucks
You might have heard them rolling through your neighborhood. The pickup trucks with the big-assed posters mounted in the back, playing music and campaign gibberish at audible levels well above the sonic pain threshold. These should be abolished, and citizens should have the right to open fire at these trucks if they come through their neighborhoods (small calibers only aiming at the signs only).
Not only would my changes help us to elect someone we could trust, they would also provide some quality entertainment for the citizens of Guam when the campaigns break the rules. If anything, it would at least make Election Season a bit more tolerable.
The New Era of Dumbness
“People in general are basically stupid” – George Carlin
Well, kids, the election has been over for a week now, and thank Christ for that. The votes have been cast, the recount completed, and the official results show that Eddie “I’m Rich, Beeyotch” Calvo and Ray “Dumber than Dogshit” Tenorio have won over Carl “Guam’s Ferdinand Marcos” Guiterrez and Frank “Mr. Arrogance” Aguon in the races for Governor and Lieutenant Governor.
Not much has been made of the elections for the senatorial slots or the attorney general or any other office that was up for the vote. Apparently all of the candidates who were involved felt that the election was fair, that “the people have spoken”, and they don’t seem to have too much to grumble about. I’ve heard nothing about a senatorial candidate bitching about anything involving the process being flawed or tainted in any way. If they lost, they took it in stride and went about doing whatever the hell it was they were doing before Temporary Insanity struck and they decided to run for public office.
Of course, the losing candidate for Governor, our dear “Uncle Carl” Guiterrez believes that he was screwed over badly. Claims of election fraud, mishandled votes, improper procedures, and anything else he and his “weasel boy” running mate can think of have started to come up. Neither one of these individuals will “go quietly into the good night” as Shakespeare said. No, the whining and complaining has only now just started. They thought that the recount would solve the problem, that by relooking at the ballots they would be able to squeeze victory out of defeat. Since they still lost in the recount, the Weirdness will take on a completely different level. Rest assured, my fellow citizens, I have the feeling that the Bad Craziness has only just now started. Guiterrez will not simply fade away, and we’ll have to put up with his happy ass for a long time to come, maybe forever.
The Guam Election Commission also lent to this with its own share of Dumbness by having members of the Commission “off island” during the days immediately following the election. They should have realized that no matter what the results of the election were, someone would cry murder and throw an electoral equivalent of a hissy fit. All of the members should have had their asses here and available until everything was done, with nothing short of Emergency Ass Surgery keeping them away from the process until it was all over.
We now have to wait and see what the Governor-Elect and Mr. Quayle (sorry, I meant Mr. Tenorio, but you can understand why a brother would be confused) are gonna do to the island. Notice I said “DO TO” and not “do for” the island. They will appoint a “transition team” and insure that they can appoint “trusted team members” to jobs where they can help their own kind (meaning the wealthy business owners of Guam, those giants of industry, as it were).
I think that once he’s sworn in, we will all once again be in the midst of another BOHICA Moment courtesy of our Beloved Governor. If you think our trusted public servants were screwing us before, just wait and see what happens during the Reign of Calvo.
Stock up on the KY lube and the whiskey, and get ready for the fun to begin, because it’s coming.
(BOHICA, for those of you unfamiliar with the term, is an acronym meaning “Bend Over, Here It Comes Again”).
Well, kids, the election has been over for a week now, and thank Christ for that. The votes have been cast, the recount completed, and the official results show that Eddie “I’m Rich, Beeyotch” Calvo and Ray “Dumber than Dogshit” Tenorio have won over Carl “Guam’s Ferdinand Marcos” Guiterrez and Frank “Mr. Arrogance” Aguon in the races for Governor and Lieutenant Governor.
Not much has been made of the elections for the senatorial slots or the attorney general or any other office that was up for the vote. Apparently all of the candidates who were involved felt that the election was fair, that “the people have spoken”, and they don’t seem to have too much to grumble about. I’ve heard nothing about a senatorial candidate bitching about anything involving the process being flawed or tainted in any way. If they lost, they took it in stride and went about doing whatever the hell it was they were doing before Temporary Insanity struck and they decided to run for public office.
Of course, the losing candidate for Governor, our dear “Uncle Carl” Guiterrez believes that he was screwed over badly. Claims of election fraud, mishandled votes, improper procedures, and anything else he and his “weasel boy” running mate can think of have started to come up. Neither one of these individuals will “go quietly into the good night” as Shakespeare said. No, the whining and complaining has only now just started. They thought that the recount would solve the problem, that by relooking at the ballots they would be able to squeeze victory out of defeat. Since they still lost in the recount, the Weirdness will take on a completely different level. Rest assured, my fellow citizens, I have the feeling that the Bad Craziness has only just now started. Guiterrez will not simply fade away, and we’ll have to put up with his happy ass for a long time to come, maybe forever.
The Guam Election Commission also lent to this with its own share of Dumbness by having members of the Commission “off island” during the days immediately following the election. They should have realized that no matter what the results of the election were, someone would cry murder and throw an electoral equivalent of a hissy fit. All of the members should have had their asses here and available until everything was done, with nothing short of Emergency Ass Surgery keeping them away from the process until it was all over.
We now have to wait and see what the Governor-Elect and Mr. Quayle (sorry, I meant Mr. Tenorio, but you can understand why a brother would be confused) are gonna do to the island. Notice I said “DO TO” and not “do for” the island. They will appoint a “transition team” and insure that they can appoint “trusted team members” to jobs where they can help their own kind (meaning the wealthy business owners of Guam, those giants of industry, as it were).
I think that once he’s sworn in, we will all once again be in the midst of another BOHICA Moment courtesy of our Beloved Governor. If you think our trusted public servants were screwing us before, just wait and see what happens during the Reign of Calvo.
Stock up on the KY lube and the whiskey, and get ready for the fun to begin, because it’s coming.
(BOHICA, for those of you unfamiliar with the term, is an acronym meaning “Bend Over, Here It Comes Again”).
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Power Outages Aren't Always Bad
We had an island-wide power outage last night, which is pretty unusual even for Guam. The wife and I hung out on the walkway in front of our apartment after it happened, enjoying the really cool wind that was blowing and talking. It was one of those moments where a husband and wife just hang out and talk, and it was really great. She had me laughing hard several times, and in spite of no electricity, I really enjoyed it a lot. There are occasions when my wife gets on my last damn nerve, but it’s times like last night that more than make up for it, times ten.
The power finally came back on after nearly two hours, and the wife retired to the bedroom while I started watching some TV. Shortly afterward, I get called in to work, because the power outage has caused some issues that required my attention. As soon as I got in the car to come to work, it was apparent that power had only been restored in certain places and not on the entire island. Most of Tamuning was still dark, none of the street lights and stop lights were working, and things just felt quiet. It was kind of surreal in a very weird way.
When I got to work, I found that while we weren’t in crisis mode, there were several issues that still needed to be resolved. Ironically, none of them really required my attention, so I hung out in our Network Operations Center and rendered what assistance I could.
There were several moments that were mildly amusing, and some that were just flat-out hilarious. At one point, I went and dug a bag of M & M’s out of my desk, and we all started munching on them. One of the guys handed the bag to one of the Japanese women that work with us, making a subtle mention that she really should try to eat all of the green ones. Apparently, the legend that green M&M’s make you horny has not made it into Japanese popular culture, as her reaction didn’t change while everyone else, including one of the company executives, cracked up laughing. I was dying, holding my sides laughing so hard.
Some other things of interest that happened during the evening. One of the guys who works on infrastructure, who is a known alcoholic, rolled in blind drunk and speaking in gibberish. When you can smell the booze from 10 feet away, you know that someone is wasted and shouldn’t be trusted with anything more complicated than sitting his ass in a chair and doing nothing, meaning that he’s completely useless. The ironic thing is that this same person, when sober, is generally considered to be mildly retarded. Anything that requires some deep thought is met with the deer in the headlights look.
Another guy who was out “in the field” I caught in a HUGE lie about getting access to one of our sites. I let everyone assembled know, including the guy who is his protector in the company that, in no uncertain terms, what he was saying was in fact complete bullshit, I then went about explaining why it was bullshit. Why this guy hasn’t been fired yet is a mystery, since everyone in my department knows him to be completely useless and protected by one of the executives in the company. My statement that the guy was lying was met by smiles and chuckles by most of the people present, and earned me a dirty look from the executive that protects this turd of a technician and human being.
I got back home about midnight, where The Gorgeous One, having taken the pain medications that the doctor prescribed for her neck/arm, was in Zombie Land, sleeping the sleep of the just. I kissed her, cleaned myself up a bit, and crawled in bed, falling asleep in a matter of minutes. Before I fell asleep, I thought about what had just happened, and must say that if I have to be called in to work, that was one of the more pleasant ways to spend it.
Yup, just another night on the island of Guam, where Weirdness is the Standard.
The power finally came back on after nearly two hours, and the wife retired to the bedroom while I started watching some TV. Shortly afterward, I get called in to work, because the power outage has caused some issues that required my attention. As soon as I got in the car to come to work, it was apparent that power had only been restored in certain places and not on the entire island. Most of Tamuning was still dark, none of the street lights and stop lights were working, and things just felt quiet. It was kind of surreal in a very weird way.
When I got to work, I found that while we weren’t in crisis mode, there were several issues that still needed to be resolved. Ironically, none of them really required my attention, so I hung out in our Network Operations Center and rendered what assistance I could.
There were several moments that were mildly amusing, and some that were just flat-out hilarious. At one point, I went and dug a bag of M & M’s out of my desk, and we all started munching on them. One of the guys handed the bag to one of the Japanese women that work with us, making a subtle mention that she really should try to eat all of the green ones. Apparently, the legend that green M&M’s make you horny has not made it into Japanese popular culture, as her reaction didn’t change while everyone else, including one of the company executives, cracked up laughing. I was dying, holding my sides laughing so hard.
Some other things of interest that happened during the evening. One of the guys who works on infrastructure, who is a known alcoholic, rolled in blind drunk and speaking in gibberish. When you can smell the booze from 10 feet away, you know that someone is wasted and shouldn’t be trusted with anything more complicated than sitting his ass in a chair and doing nothing, meaning that he’s completely useless. The ironic thing is that this same person, when sober, is generally considered to be mildly retarded. Anything that requires some deep thought is met with the deer in the headlights look.
Another guy who was out “in the field” I caught in a HUGE lie about getting access to one of our sites. I let everyone assembled know, including the guy who is his protector in the company that, in no uncertain terms, what he was saying was in fact complete bullshit, I then went about explaining why it was bullshit. Why this guy hasn’t been fired yet is a mystery, since everyone in my department knows him to be completely useless and protected by one of the executives in the company. My statement that the guy was lying was met by smiles and chuckles by most of the people present, and earned me a dirty look from the executive that protects this turd of a technician and human being.
I got back home about midnight, where The Gorgeous One, having taken the pain medications that the doctor prescribed for her neck/arm, was in Zombie Land, sleeping the sleep of the just. I kissed her, cleaned myself up a bit, and crawled in bed, falling asleep in a matter of minutes. Before I fell asleep, I thought about what had just happened, and must say that if I have to be called in to work, that was one of the more pleasant ways to spend it.
Yup, just another night on the island of Guam, where Weirdness is the Standard.
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