I didn't pick up the cell phone when it rang the first time, I was busy.
On the second ring, I answered.
It was my wife Lori, who told me she had just been hit by an SUV that ran a red light at an intersection near our house.
My heart skipped a beat.
Our son Michael was with her.
They were meeting some people from her restaurant to do some Christmas shopping for a needy family that they had adopted for the holiday.
She told me everyone was OK, but Michael was shaken up a bit.
I jumped in the car and began driving through the fog to reach the intersection.
Despite the increased heart rate, I drove as safely as possible through the thick fog.
The stop lights were hard to see until you were about 50 yards from the intersection, but I had driven this road a million times. I knew where the lights were and the four-way stops.
The driver of the SUV that caused the accident had driven through the red light, smashing into a car next to Lori's, before careening into my wife's front passenger door.
Michael was sitting on the driver's side behind her.
It was his first accident.
I gave everyone a quick hug, checked on the other drivers. Everyone was fine.
Then, I turned my attention to what happened.
I've covered so many crashes, minor and deadly, as a reporter over the years the questions started pouring out of me.
What happened? Where was the other driver? Did you see the SUV coming before it hit you, and so on.
I began to get angry.
How many times have I seen people driving like idiots, watched close calls and dialed 911 to report someone weaving all over the road.
The anger gave way to relief that no one was hurt.
The only serious accident I was ever involved in happened on Christmas Eve in Arizona when I was 18.
The other driver was turning left and smashed into my driver's door as I was coming through the intersection.
I woke up on the sidewalk with my sister and an off-duty nurse looking down at me.
I had a concussion. Some bruises to my left side.
The driver crushed the outer door up to the frame, which was buckled up under the driver's seat.
My head hit the top of the door. The window was down or I probably would have hit that instead.
It was a clear, beautiful Arizona winter day, but today, it was the first real day of morning fog in west Bakersfield near our house.
I wanted to know what the other driver was doing. Why didn't she see the red light? Was she driving to fast for the conditions?
The police believe some kind of distraction was involved.
Talking on the cell phone, changing the music, who knows.
I've been driving in Bakersfield fog for about 16 years now, and I've come out unscathed. (knock on wood)
Something happens to me, and I'm sure to other people as well, when the fog rolls in.
I turn off, or down, the music. Leave the cell phone in the glove box. Slow down to about a 1/3rd of my normal speed.
I even flick my brights on and off briefly when I come up on intersections, so someone trying to pull out might see me a little better.
There's no scientific proof that it works, but it makes me more attentive.
I'm grateful that no one was hurt. I'm adding it to my list of things to be thankful for this year.
I wonder if it's too late to ask Santa for a new passenger side door and mirror for my wife's Toyota Avalon?
**A quick reminder to give all your attention to the road in front of you, now that the Tule Fog has officially arrived for 2007-2008.**
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Don't Blame The Dog
I'm a big fan of police K-9's.
They do a dirty job, putting themselves in harm's way to protect their human partners.
They are trained to search out suspects, drugs and a number of other tasks.
But they are dogs.
If you resist, they will bite.
If you attack them, they will bite.
If you hide under a blanket, after officers have given you the option of exiting a house that is about to be searched, chances are, they will bite.
Basically, if police have to use the dog, a bite is probably a foregone conclusion.
A local mom has taken the first step towards filing suit against the BPD, after a K-9 bit her teenage son during the search of her home on the night of December 17th.
Police were at the home looking for suspects in an armed robbery at a Fastrip, where the suspects brandished a knife, all to steal some beer.
Witnesses traced the men to the woman's house on Gary Place.
Police ordered everyone out, key word in this sentence "everyone".
The woman and two sons exited the house, as another person ran out the back into the arms of waiting officers.
After awhile, another teenage son came outside.
The mom, through her attorney, said she told officers her 15-yr old son was inside sleeping.
Apparently he didn't hear the commotion outside.
The police department's press release said before the K-9 entered the home, they confirmed with the mom that everyone was accounted for.
The teen supposedly didn't hear the K-9 and his handler entering the home to do a sweep, announcing their presence before they entered, after they entered and during the entire sweep.
The dog reportedly lunged at the covers on a bed inside a room that hadn't been searched and ended up biting the teenager.
The teen suffered a laceration across his forehead, puncture below his right eyebrow and a cut above his ear.
The mother's attorney said the woman believes if her son's robbed the store they should pay, but if the police committed a crime, they should pay.
What crime?
And who's really at fault?
If your son really is sleeping inside the house, with police swarming all over the place and a K-9 unit preparing to go in, wouldn't you tell police EXACTLY where he was in the house.
A couple of your sons (according to the release) were just involved in the ARMED robbery of a store with a weapon.
Police say the teenager who was bit, was not involved with the robbery.
Is someone at fault?
Yes, I'd begin with the mother.
They do a dirty job, putting themselves in harm's way to protect their human partners.
They are trained to search out suspects, drugs and a number of other tasks.
But they are dogs.
If you resist, they will bite.
If you attack them, they will bite.
If you hide under a blanket, after officers have given you the option of exiting a house that is about to be searched, chances are, they will bite.
Basically, if police have to use the dog, a bite is probably a foregone conclusion.
A local mom has taken the first step towards filing suit against the BPD, after a K-9 bit her teenage son during the search of her home on the night of December 17th.
Police were at the home looking for suspects in an armed robbery at a Fastrip, where the suspects brandished a knife, all to steal some beer.
Witnesses traced the men to the woman's house on Gary Place.
Police ordered everyone out, key word in this sentence "everyone".
The woman and two sons exited the house, as another person ran out the back into the arms of waiting officers.
After awhile, another teenage son came outside.
The mom, through her attorney, said she told officers her 15-yr old son was inside sleeping.
Apparently he didn't hear the commotion outside.
The police department's press release said before the K-9 entered the home, they confirmed with the mom that everyone was accounted for.
The teen supposedly didn't hear the K-9 and his handler entering the home to do a sweep, announcing their presence before they entered, after they entered and during the entire sweep.
The dog reportedly lunged at the covers on a bed inside a room that hadn't been searched and ended up biting the teenager.
The teen suffered a laceration across his forehead, puncture below his right eyebrow and a cut above his ear.
The mother's attorney said the woman believes if her son's robbed the store they should pay, but if the police committed a crime, they should pay.
What crime?
And who's really at fault?
If your son really is sleeping inside the house, with police swarming all over the place and a K-9 unit preparing to go in, wouldn't you tell police EXACTLY where he was in the house.
A couple of your sons (according to the release) were just involved in the ARMED robbery of a store with a weapon.
Police say the teenager who was bit, was not involved with the robbery.
Is someone at fault?
Yes, I'd begin with the mother.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The Price Of Murder
Is it just me, or does $500 seem like a bargain to kill someone and firebomb their home?
When the investigation into the murder-for-hire scheme revealed the suspects in this case were hired for anywhere from $500 to $1,000 to kill the intended victim, I was stunned.
This was not a Hollywood movie, where a mysterious individual pulls into a dark parking garage and hands over a bag of money to a hit man to snuff out a person that's proven to be expendable.
No, a local business owner ALLEGEDLY asked a younger subordinate (and family member) to find some guys and rub out a man who ALLEGEDLY had a former relationship with his current wife.
The go-between knew some "guys" who could do this, arranged the hit (complete with code words and all) and waited for it to be carried out.
All this for $500?
Even the getaway driver was reportedly promised $100.
Are you serious?
Does this concern anyone else but me?
Are there people in this town willing to end someones life over the price of a video game console or iPhone?
Come on, hold out for more money, after all we're talking about a crime that carries a pretty hefty sentence if you're caught.
For the man hired to carry out the hit, he was killed.
Put a price on that.
When the investigation into the murder-for-hire scheme revealed the suspects in this case were hired for anywhere from $500 to $1,000 to kill the intended victim, I was stunned.
This was not a Hollywood movie, where a mysterious individual pulls into a dark parking garage and hands over a bag of money to a hit man to snuff out a person that's proven to be expendable.
No, a local business owner ALLEGEDLY asked a younger subordinate (and family member) to find some guys and rub out a man who ALLEGEDLY had a former relationship with his current wife.
The go-between knew some "guys" who could do this, arranged the hit (complete with code words and all) and waited for it to be carried out.
All this for $500?
Even the getaway driver was reportedly promised $100.
Are you serious?
Does this concern anyone else but me?
Are there people in this town willing to end someones life over the price of a video game console or iPhone?
Come on, hold out for more money, after all we're talking about a crime that carries a pretty hefty sentence if you're caught.
For the man hired to carry out the hit, he was killed.
Put a price on that.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Road Rage Rules
It's not that difficult.
In fact, most of the rules are right there in the DMV handbook.
You know, the book that you're suppose to read and know before getting your license.
I'm talking about traffic and speed.
One of the biggest triggers, when it comes to road rage, is the flow.
Someone messing up the flow.
A self-appointed speed monitor who pulls into the No. 1 lane and becomes a pace car.
The monitor refuses to give way to other drivers and will not move into a slower lane when approached by a faster motorist.
This person is a catalyst for rage.
I was returning from Anaheim on Tuesday, with traffic moving fairly well.
There were the usual congestion points, like downtown, but all in all, it was a bearable commute.
Once traffic freed up and started to move, the monitors came out.
After witnessing more than two dozen close calls, obscene gestures and slingshot lane changes, I was glad to be back in Bakersfield.
But the home town is not immune to this disease.
Speed kills, but also ignites a rage greater than someone who won't make a right turn on red or doesn't realize that there are TWO left turn lanes and nearly drifts into you.
I'm not sure if it's ignorance or indignation that fuels the speed monitor, but it's a danger to everyone on the road.
Slow drivers in the fast lane (or insanity lane as I like to call it) forces the quicker current into the slow lanes, causing all kinds of potential problems.
I've heard the excuses:
"It's not your road, it's all of ours."
"If you don't like it go around."
"I'm driving the speed limit, you're breaking the law."
Say whatever you want, you are endangering the public.
Take it from a guy who drives in the lane next to the fast lane, and occasionally ventures into the No. 1 lane.
There will always be someone faster than you, no matter how fast you drive.
A simple lane change to allow the faster cars to move on, will not only create less frustration than being tailgated for several miles, but keep 'that' traffic where it belongs.
And don't try to enforce speeding laws yourself, unless you plan on making a citizen's arrest.
Road rage is a condition that we don't need to agitate any further, and it will never be cured.
Unfortunately, sooner or later, it usually ends in tragedy.
In fact, most of the rules are right there in the DMV handbook.
You know, the book that you're suppose to read and know before getting your license.
I'm talking about traffic and speed.
One of the biggest triggers, when it comes to road rage, is the flow.
Someone messing up the flow.
A self-appointed speed monitor who pulls into the No. 1 lane and becomes a pace car.
The monitor refuses to give way to other drivers and will not move into a slower lane when approached by a faster motorist.
This person is a catalyst for rage.
I was returning from Anaheim on Tuesday, with traffic moving fairly well.
There were the usual congestion points, like downtown, but all in all, it was a bearable commute.
Once traffic freed up and started to move, the monitors came out.
After witnessing more than two dozen close calls, obscene gestures and slingshot lane changes, I was glad to be back in Bakersfield.
But the home town is not immune to this disease.
Speed kills, but also ignites a rage greater than someone who won't make a right turn on red or doesn't realize that there are TWO left turn lanes and nearly drifts into you.
I'm not sure if it's ignorance or indignation that fuels the speed monitor, but it's a danger to everyone on the road.
Slow drivers in the fast lane (or insanity lane as I like to call it) forces the quicker current into the slow lanes, causing all kinds of potential problems.
I've heard the excuses:
"It's not your road, it's all of ours."
"If you don't like it go around."
"I'm driving the speed limit, you're breaking the law."
Say whatever you want, you are endangering the public.
Take it from a guy who drives in the lane next to the fast lane, and occasionally ventures into the No. 1 lane.
There will always be someone faster than you, no matter how fast you drive.
A simple lane change to allow the faster cars to move on, will not only create less frustration than being tailgated for several miles, but keep 'that' traffic where it belongs.
And don't try to enforce speeding laws yourself, unless you plan on making a citizen's arrest.
Road rage is a condition that we don't need to agitate any further, and it will never be cured.
Unfortunately, sooner or later, it usually ends in tragedy.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Alcatraz 2008
It's been more than 20 years since I swam laps in a pool.
I swam so many in my life, that when I gave up competitive swimming, I walked as far away as possible.
The stench of chlorine, blood-shot eyes and speedo swim suits were all a memory.
I figured more than 10 years of swimming year round was enough.
Then, my son discovered the sport.
His cousin Colin, who's about the same age, swam Alcatraz last year with his swim team in Arizona, as part of a fundraiser for drowning prevention.
Michael's been swimming for a club team and wanted to try it this year.
After all, that means a wetsuit!!
Trouble is, anyone under 18 has to have an adult chaperon.
Someone to jump into the 55 degree water with them.
Someone to swim the one and a half miles from Alcatraz to the shore.
Someone to help navigate through choppy waters and water freshly saturated with oil.
Someone who didn't realize that after all this time he was aching for a reason to get back in the water, and now there will be plenty of aches to go around.
Not to mention, how many more bonding chances will I have with my son?
And yes, maybe I feel like I have something to prove to myself.
A mid-life crisis, nah, I'm not there yet.
So, I'm back in the pool, with several people helping me out, to transform my body back into Aquaman.
Or at least what an out-of-swimming-shape Aquaman would look like at 43, after being dry-docked for 20 some odd years.
I swam so many in my life, that when I gave up competitive swimming, I walked as far away as possible.
The stench of chlorine, blood-shot eyes and speedo swim suits were all a memory.
I figured more than 10 years of swimming year round was enough.
Then, my son discovered the sport.
His cousin Colin, who's about the same age, swam Alcatraz last year with his swim team in Arizona, as part of a fundraiser for drowning prevention.
Michael's been swimming for a club team and wanted to try it this year.
After all, that means a wetsuit!!
Trouble is, anyone under 18 has to have an adult chaperon.
Someone to jump into the 55 degree water with them.
Someone to swim the one and a half miles from Alcatraz to the shore.
Someone to help navigate through choppy waters and water freshly saturated with oil.
Someone who didn't realize that after all this time he was aching for a reason to get back in the water, and now there will be plenty of aches to go around.
Not to mention, how many more bonding chances will I have with my son?
And yes, maybe I feel like I have something to prove to myself.
A mid-life crisis, nah, I'm not there yet.
So, I'm back in the pool, with several people helping me out, to transform my body back into Aquaman.
Or at least what an out-of-swimming-shape Aquaman would look like at 43, after being dry-docked for 20 some odd years.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Black Friday Hostilities
I hate Black Friday.
It's like an excuse to be rude for a day, on the first official shopping day of the Christmas Holiday.
People swinging elbows, knocking down their mothers to get a great deal on a plasma TV.
Then, there are people who act like every day is Black Friday.
A young, pregnant woman was shopping with her mother in Toys-R-Us over the weekend.
What I believed to be the woman's child was attempting to ride a razor scooter around the bike section, when she came very close to ramming into an older man.
The man reached down and grabbed the handlebars to stop the child from slamming into him, and touched her arm to stop her from falling down.
He said something to the effect of "watch out little lady!!!"
The little girl was one of several kids, mostly unsupervised, racing around the bike section at the time.
It was at this point, mom turned to see the man talking down to her daughter.
This is where the story begins.
Within 5 seconds, the mother is in the man's face as her voice begins a crescendo so everyone in the bike section can hear her.
"Don't touch my child" and "Don't lecture my child", are just a few of the fragments spewing from her now curled lip, as the man starts to raise his voice to obviously try to explain what had happened while mom was ignoring her child.
Then, Grandma started in with the occasional repetition, as if to try and add credence to what her daughter was saying.
"I'll sue you!", to which she replied "Yea, she'll sue you!"
It has always amazed me how smart some people become in regards to the law, when reading someone the riot act.
She asks him to "touch her", the obvious touch me and I'll sue routine, then in the same breath wishes her husband or boyfriend was there so he could pulverize the older man.
Happy Holidays!!
The verbal assault was launched, I believe, to cover up for the fact that mom was paying no attention to her child.
Then, to top it off, the woman wants a manager and proceeds to follow the man through the store, yelling for security or a manager, as if the man is trying to flee the scene of the crime.
Yes, he was trying to flee alright, to get away from her.
Afterwards, I talked to a woman, who I assumed was in charge, after she listened to both sides of the story.
I told her I witnessed the confrontation and filled in some holes left by the woman.
She told me the man had two artificial knees.
I'll bet he still could have used one to give her a swift kick in the backside.
It's like an excuse to be rude for a day, on the first official shopping day of the Christmas Holiday.
People swinging elbows, knocking down their mothers to get a great deal on a plasma TV.
Then, there are people who act like every day is Black Friday.
A young, pregnant woman was shopping with her mother in Toys-R-Us over the weekend.
What I believed to be the woman's child was attempting to ride a razor scooter around the bike section, when she came very close to ramming into an older man.
The man reached down and grabbed the handlebars to stop the child from slamming into him, and touched her arm to stop her from falling down.
He said something to the effect of "watch out little lady!!!"
The little girl was one of several kids, mostly unsupervised, racing around the bike section at the time.
It was at this point, mom turned to see the man talking down to her daughter.
This is where the story begins.
Within 5 seconds, the mother is in the man's face as her voice begins a crescendo so everyone in the bike section can hear her.
"Don't touch my child" and "Don't lecture my child", are just a few of the fragments spewing from her now curled lip, as the man starts to raise his voice to obviously try to explain what had happened while mom was ignoring her child.
Then, Grandma started in with the occasional repetition, as if to try and add credence to what her daughter was saying.
"I'll sue you!", to which she replied "Yea, she'll sue you!"
It has always amazed me how smart some people become in regards to the law, when reading someone the riot act.
She asks him to "touch her", the obvious touch me and I'll sue routine, then in the same breath wishes her husband or boyfriend was there so he could pulverize the older man.
Happy Holidays!!
The verbal assault was launched, I believe, to cover up for the fact that mom was paying no attention to her child.
Then, to top it off, the woman wants a manager and proceeds to follow the man through the store, yelling for security or a manager, as if the man is trying to flee the scene of the crime.
Yes, he was trying to flee alright, to get away from her.
Afterwards, I talked to a woman, who I assumed was in charge, after she listened to both sides of the story.
I told her I witnessed the confrontation and filled in some holes left by the woman.
She told me the man had two artificial knees.
I'll bet he still could have used one to give her a swift kick in the backside.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Condors Jerseys & The Jerk
I love the Condor's commemorative jersey auctions.
The fans are some of the most generous I've ever encountered and they never fail to leave their mark.
The 10th anniversary jerseys raked in nearly $21,500 for the Ronald McDonald House charities on Sunday night.
Keep in mind, the fans were shelling out big bucks for a team that has struggled in the early part of this season.
Fan favorites like Reagan Leslie still command top dollar, his #3 jersey going for $2,150.
But a charity auction is not the time to air your discontent with the team's progress through the first month of the season.
I became aware of the heckler about 4 jerseys into the auction, as his snide comments became louder as I introduced each player before the bidding began.
He was hidden, of course, up in the bar area, concealed behind 2 people, where he courageously offered up tips and suggestions for each player as they skated out to do their part for charity.
I pressed on, ignoring him, although I was half-tempted to award a high-priced jersey to him just to shut him up.
Then again this was for charity.
Win or lose, the Condors are approaching the half-million dollar mark with their jersey auctions in the 10 years since the team's inception.
Plus, I'm sure whatever Coach Marty Raymond said to the guys in a closed door meeting before the auction was a bit more harsh than anything this disgruntled fan could ever dream of.
The fans are some of the most generous I've ever encountered and they never fail to leave their mark.
The 10th anniversary jerseys raked in nearly $21,500 for the Ronald McDonald House charities on Sunday night.
Keep in mind, the fans were shelling out big bucks for a team that has struggled in the early part of this season.
Fan favorites like Reagan Leslie still command top dollar, his #3 jersey going for $2,150.
But a charity auction is not the time to air your discontent with the team's progress through the first month of the season.
I became aware of the heckler about 4 jerseys into the auction, as his snide comments became louder as I introduced each player before the bidding began.
He was hidden, of course, up in the bar area, concealed behind 2 people, where he courageously offered up tips and suggestions for each player as they skated out to do their part for charity.
I pressed on, ignoring him, although I was half-tempted to award a high-priced jersey to him just to shut him up.
Then again this was for charity.
Win or lose, the Condors are approaching the half-million dollar mark with their jersey auctions in the 10 years since the team's inception.
Plus, I'm sure whatever Coach Marty Raymond said to the guys in a closed door meeting before the auction was a bit more harsh than anything this disgruntled fan could ever dream of.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
"In God" We Debate
It's over, finally.
Sadly, the myriad of amendments to the "In God We Trust" proposal of the Kern High School District's Board of Trustees did more to dilute the patriotic message than strengthen it.
I was led to believe that the trustees were going to post other U.S. documents in each classroom, along with the national motto, in some sort of historical settlement to the religious debate that erupted shortly after the posting was proposed.
Now, each class will get a single poster with the documents overlapping.
Only a small portion of each document will be decipherable.
Sad.
It was meant as a compromise.
Instead, the board created a confusing constitutional collaboration.
And to top it off, it's going to cost $12,000.
I think Councilwoman Jacquie Sullivan's religious action group should foot the bill.
It was her idea that Chad Vegas brought to the table.
I just wish they would have acknowledged and admitted the obvious religious connection right off the bat, instead of insisting their motives were historically driven.
The opposition would still have shown up to be heard, but at least the back room whispering and talk show posturing would have abated quickly.
If you listen closely, you'll still hear the debate faintly, every time you see one of those posters in your kids class.
Sadly, the myriad of amendments to the "In God We Trust" proposal of the Kern High School District's Board of Trustees did more to dilute the patriotic message than strengthen it.
I was led to believe that the trustees were going to post other U.S. documents in each classroom, along with the national motto, in some sort of historical settlement to the religious debate that erupted shortly after the posting was proposed.
Now, each class will get a single poster with the documents overlapping.
Only a small portion of each document will be decipherable.
Sad.
It was meant as a compromise.
Instead, the board created a confusing constitutional collaboration.
And to top it off, it's going to cost $12,000.
I think Councilwoman Jacquie Sullivan's religious action group should foot the bill.
It was her idea that Chad Vegas brought to the table.
I just wish they would have acknowledged and admitted the obvious religious connection right off the bat, instead of insisting their motives were historically driven.
The opposition would still have shown up to be heard, but at least the back room whispering and talk show posturing would have abated quickly.
If you listen closely, you'll still hear the debate faintly, every time you see one of those posters in your kids class.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Our Nation's Finest & The Worst
I didn't know Uncle Frank personally.
I knew of him, through my friend, his nephew Carlos.
A quiet, mild-mannered, unassuming veteran who survived one of the most horrific battles in our nation's history.
PFC Frank Magana was drafted into the Army in January 1943 and went into the medical corps.
His first action was in June 1944 at Omaha Beach on D-Day.
Carlos recounted the story of that day to me on several occasions, each re-creation sending chills through my body.
Surviving the landing on the beach, PFC Magana spent most of the first few moments of that onslaught racing back into the surf to pull wounded GI's to shore, even though he couldn't swim.
The death and destruction that riddled around him with each passing moment was a blur and when it was over he sat there wondering how he managed to get out alive.
PFC Magana survived that day and many more like it.
A member of the 1st Infantry, the infamous "Big Red One", Uncle Frank marched across France, Belgium and into Germany.
He was honorably discharged in Nov. 1945.
He returned home and left medicine behind, perhaps witnessing too much during his time in the Army, he became a television repairman.
He died on Halloween morning at the age of 83.
A couple weeks before his death, this amazing human being was walking near his home on Sunday, Oct. 7th when he was attacked by one or two men and robbed.
It happened in a dirt lot on the southwest corner of Brundage Lane & 'P' Street.
I bet the young Frank would have cleaned the lot with these scumbags, but the older more frail Frank wasn't able to defend himself.
A good Samaritan found him and called for help.
He was taken to the hospital, where he remained until he was released into hospice care for the final moments of his life.
The police are investigating, but it doesn't appear his death was related to any injuries he sustained in the attack.
Currently, the case is being called an incident of elderly abuse pending further investigation.
It breaks my heart that a man who survived so much at a terrible time in history, or any senior citizen for that matter, would be assaulted for a couple of bucks.
To say that he didn't deserve to go out this way is a huge understatement.
It's not how his family will remember him, or myself for that matter.
I hope someone will come forward and turn in those responsible.
These lowlifes need to be held responsible for robbing Bakersfield of a real treasure.
I knew of him, through my friend, his nephew Carlos.
A quiet, mild-mannered, unassuming veteran who survived one of the most horrific battles in our nation's history.
PFC Frank Magana was drafted into the Army in January 1943 and went into the medical corps.
His first action was in June 1944 at Omaha Beach on D-Day.
Carlos recounted the story of that day to me on several occasions, each re-creation sending chills through my body.
Surviving the landing on the beach, PFC Magana spent most of the first few moments of that onslaught racing back into the surf to pull wounded GI's to shore, even though he couldn't swim.
The death and destruction that riddled around him with each passing moment was a blur and when it was over he sat there wondering how he managed to get out alive.
PFC Magana survived that day and many more like it.
A member of the 1st Infantry, the infamous "Big Red One", Uncle Frank marched across France, Belgium and into Germany.
He was honorably discharged in Nov. 1945.
He returned home and left medicine behind, perhaps witnessing too much during his time in the Army, he became a television repairman.
He died on Halloween morning at the age of 83.
A couple weeks before his death, this amazing human being was walking near his home on Sunday, Oct. 7th when he was attacked by one or two men and robbed.
It happened in a dirt lot on the southwest corner of Brundage Lane & 'P' Street.
I bet the young Frank would have cleaned the lot with these scumbags, but the older more frail Frank wasn't able to defend himself.
A good Samaritan found him and called for help.
He was taken to the hospital, where he remained until he was released into hospice care for the final moments of his life.
The police are investigating, but it doesn't appear his death was related to any injuries he sustained in the attack.
Currently, the case is being called an incident of elderly abuse pending further investigation.
It breaks my heart that a man who survived so much at a terrible time in history, or any senior citizen for that matter, would be assaulted for a couple of bucks.
To say that he didn't deserve to go out this way is a huge understatement.
It's not how his family will remember him, or myself for that matter.
I hope someone will come forward and turn in those responsible.
These lowlifes need to be held responsible for robbing Bakersfield of a real treasure.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
The Big Squeeze
I use to think the gas stations at Stockdale Highway and Interstate Five were pretty bad when it came to jacking drivers at the gas pump.
I wasn't even close.
I'm driving my Expedition back to Bakersfield from Albuquerque, New Mexico on Sunday, pulling a trailer loaded down with 2 horses and all of our gear.
The 5.4 liter engine was hauling the 6-to-7,000 pound load easily but I was only getting about 9-10 miles per gallon.
I hit Needles, CA on I-40 about 9 hours into the trip and had just over a 1/4 tank left, when a sign told me next services 35 miles.
My 2-yr old son Cody was asleep in the car seat, my wife Lori was reading and I felt like we could go another 35 miles before stopping for gas.
Barstow was still another 105 miles and I would stop there for some food.
I got to the gas station oasis on Interstate 40 at the Goffs Road Exit.
Remember, the GOFFS ROAD EXIT, this is important later.
We drove around to the station which resembled something out of a 2nd rate horror movie.
It was 7pm, the full moon was out and there were about a dozen people milling about.
It wasn't until I pulled up to the pump that I saw the price.
$4.39 a gallon. Yes, $4.39!!!! An early halloween scare.
Stunned I sat and stared at it, thinking fatigue had blurred my vision.
The pumps were old, no credit card slot to speak of, so I ventured inside.
I walked past a 15-yr old teenager doing his best Eminem impersonation sitting on a chair outside the station smoking a cigarette.
Upon entering, I came face to face with Lurch. Not the Adams Family character, but the real life equivalent.
I asked for 20 bucks worth, 4 1/2 gallons to get me to Ludlow, CA about 30 miles up the road.
He stared at me, and activated the pump.
When I blurted out, "$4.39, are you kidding?', he just stared at me and said, "Nope!"
I felt like any further communication would result in a machete coming out from behind the counter so I left, repeating the phrase to "Snykers" (pronounced Snickers), the kid I nicknamed while I was inside, and he also stared back without a word.
I filled up and left for Ludlow.
Just 40 minutes up the road, I pulled off in Ludlow, encountering a similar group of people, but a better price.
The $3.49 a gallon made me feel much better, having been soaked for a handful of gas at the last station.
For those of you experienced travelers on I-40 between Barstow and Needles, you already know this, but for the occasional motorist, a couple words of warning.
Stop in Arizona just before the CA border if you're headed westbound.
An Arco AMPM was advertising $2.87 a gallon and I blew by it thinking I'd find a better deal.
It goes without saying Barstow should be a topping off destination as well.
Think of it like Nascar, when they time out pitstops to maximize fuel consumption to the end of the race.
The last thing you want is your finish line to be Goffs Road.
If you're as unfortunate as I was, say hi to Lurch for me.
Please share any other nightmare pitstops, so others won't encounter a similar fate.
I wasn't even close.
I'm driving my Expedition back to Bakersfield from Albuquerque, New Mexico on Sunday, pulling a trailer loaded down with 2 horses and all of our gear.
The 5.4 liter engine was hauling the 6-to-7,000 pound load easily but I was only getting about 9-10 miles per gallon.
I hit Needles, CA on I-40 about 9 hours into the trip and had just over a 1/4 tank left, when a sign told me next services 35 miles.
My 2-yr old son Cody was asleep in the car seat, my wife Lori was reading and I felt like we could go another 35 miles before stopping for gas.
Barstow was still another 105 miles and I would stop there for some food.
I got to the gas station oasis on Interstate 40 at the Goffs Road Exit.
Remember, the GOFFS ROAD EXIT, this is important later.
We drove around to the station which resembled something out of a 2nd rate horror movie.
It was 7pm, the full moon was out and there were about a dozen people milling about.
It wasn't until I pulled up to the pump that I saw the price.
$4.39 a gallon. Yes, $4.39!!!! An early halloween scare.
Stunned I sat and stared at it, thinking fatigue had blurred my vision.
The pumps were old, no credit card slot to speak of, so I ventured inside.
I walked past a 15-yr old teenager doing his best Eminem impersonation sitting on a chair outside the station smoking a cigarette.
Upon entering, I came face to face with Lurch. Not the Adams Family character, but the real life equivalent.
I asked for 20 bucks worth, 4 1/2 gallons to get me to Ludlow, CA about 30 miles up the road.
He stared at me, and activated the pump.
When I blurted out, "$4.39, are you kidding?', he just stared at me and said, "Nope!"
I felt like any further communication would result in a machete coming out from behind the counter so I left, repeating the phrase to "Snykers" (pronounced Snickers), the kid I nicknamed while I was inside, and he also stared back without a word.
I filled up and left for Ludlow.
Just 40 minutes up the road, I pulled off in Ludlow, encountering a similar group of people, but a better price.
The $3.49 a gallon made me feel much better, having been soaked for a handful of gas at the last station.
For those of you experienced travelers on I-40 between Barstow and Needles, you already know this, but for the occasional motorist, a couple words of warning.
Stop in Arizona just before the CA border if you're headed westbound.
An Arco AMPM was advertising $2.87 a gallon and I blew by it thinking I'd find a better deal.
It goes without saying Barstow should be a topping off destination as well.
Think of it like Nascar, when they time out pitstops to maximize fuel consumption to the end of the race.
The last thing you want is your finish line to be Goffs Road.
If you're as unfortunate as I was, say hi to Lurch for me.
Please share any other nightmare pitstops, so others won't encounter a similar fate.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Drunken Explanation
To let a DUI suspect speak, or not to speak.
That is obviously the question on this Friday as we head into the weekend.
Jose Hernandez hopped into his SUV last Sunday and headed home with his 2-year old daughter in tow after a couple beers.
He got into an acceleration contest with a 22-yr old in a little sports car.
You've seen it a million times at almost every stop light.
It's not a planned street race.
One car pulls away quickly, the other catches up and nudges ahead, the first car then speeds up a little more and before you know it, you've got two guys racing down the street.
Only last weekend, an innocent couple were caught in the middle.
A woman is killed and her husband remains in critical condition.
We asked for a jailhouse interview with Jose Hernandez this week and he agreed.
That decision has riled a few feathers on local airwaves and blogs.
It seems not many people wanted to hear an apology, or in this instance, an outright admission of guilt.
Well, 99% of the time the people in our community who end up in prison decline the media's request for an interview.
But we got the interview and reported what he said, for better or worse.
Hopefully, for the better.
I guess I could stand here and "What if" this thing to no end like many people have been doing, but it's done.
Where was this, why was that, he should have known, and so on.
I'm hoping his face and his confession will burn a lasting memory in your brain.
Think of that this weekend, when many of you will have one or two beers and get behind the wheel of their car for a quick drive home.
The BPD will tell you that about 90% of the time that someone is pulled over for weaving or some other telltale DUI sign, that the driver tells them they only had one or two beverages.
Many DUI's involve people who are at, or barely above, the state mandated .08 limit.
Does that stop people from doing it?
The newest DUI law in California involves a signature, acknowledging the fact that if you drink and drive and kill someone, you could be charged with murder.
Stack that on top of the thousands in fines, jail time, license suspension, counseling sessions, ignition locking devices, and so on and so forth.
Is drinking and driving still a problem?
Will drinking and driving every really end?
Not even if you brought prohibition back, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't stop trying.
I've interviewed numerous families who've been victimized by drunk drivers and become friends with many mom's and dad's whose sons and daughters were killed by someone who "made a bad decision."
We've broadcast their pain and anguish on our news dozens and dozens of times.
And we will keep showing the devastation this type of behavior causes until it finally sinks in.
As for Jose Hernandez, he faces 2nd degree murder charges in a DUI crash.
No amount of apologies in the world will keep him from a lengthy prison sentence.
But maybe his face and words will keep someone from joining him.
That is obviously the question on this Friday as we head into the weekend.
Jose Hernandez hopped into his SUV last Sunday and headed home with his 2-year old daughter in tow after a couple beers.
He got into an acceleration contest with a 22-yr old in a little sports car.
You've seen it a million times at almost every stop light.
It's not a planned street race.
One car pulls away quickly, the other catches up and nudges ahead, the first car then speeds up a little more and before you know it, you've got two guys racing down the street.
Only last weekend, an innocent couple were caught in the middle.
A woman is killed and her husband remains in critical condition.
We asked for a jailhouse interview with Jose Hernandez this week and he agreed.
That decision has riled a few feathers on local airwaves and blogs.
It seems not many people wanted to hear an apology, or in this instance, an outright admission of guilt.
Well, 99% of the time the people in our community who end up in prison decline the media's request for an interview.
But we got the interview and reported what he said, for better or worse.
Hopefully, for the better.
I guess I could stand here and "What if" this thing to no end like many people have been doing, but it's done.
Where was this, why was that, he should have known, and so on.
I'm hoping his face and his confession will burn a lasting memory in your brain.
Think of that this weekend, when many of you will have one or two beers and get behind the wheel of their car for a quick drive home.
The BPD will tell you that about 90% of the time that someone is pulled over for weaving or some other telltale DUI sign, that the driver tells them they only had one or two beverages.
Many DUI's involve people who are at, or barely above, the state mandated .08 limit.
Does that stop people from doing it?
The newest DUI law in California involves a signature, acknowledging the fact that if you drink and drive and kill someone, you could be charged with murder.
Stack that on top of the thousands in fines, jail time, license suspension, counseling sessions, ignition locking devices, and so on and so forth.
Is drinking and driving still a problem?
Will drinking and driving every really end?
Not even if you brought prohibition back, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't stop trying.
I've interviewed numerous families who've been victimized by drunk drivers and become friends with many mom's and dad's whose sons and daughters were killed by someone who "made a bad decision."
We've broadcast their pain and anguish on our news dozens and dozens of times.
And we will keep showing the devastation this type of behavior causes until it finally sinks in.
As for Jose Hernandez, he faces 2nd degree murder charges in a DUI crash.
No amount of apologies in the world will keep him from a lengthy prison sentence.
But maybe his face and words will keep someone from joining him.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Military Courtesy
I just got back from Albuquerque, New Mexico.
I worked a 10-hour day shift on Monday, got off around 6:30, came home and fell asleep for about 2 hours.
I woke up and packed my Expedition and horse trailer, then drove my wife Lori, our 2-yr old son Cody and her father to Albuquerque for the U.S. Arabian and Half-Arabian Horse Show Championships.
We left at midnight and got into New Mexico at 3:30pm Tuesday afternoon.
I then unloaded everything, got them set up, and raced to the airport to hop a flight back to Bakersfield at 6:10pm. After all, I had to work Wednesday.
I made the connection through Phoenix on U.S. Airways only to be informed my connection home was delayed. Typical.
As I'm sitting by my gate, I see a young man, dressed in his Marine Corp uniform, running through the airport. He's looking for his gate. Mine was switched, so I felt for him.
What I didn't know was he was looking for the gate right across from mine, to catch a flight to Monterrey. I'm guessing he was going home.
The lighted sign said "Doors close at 7pm" and a quick glance at my watch showed it was 7 or 7:01pm.
He realized where he was and bolted for the door that had JUST closed.
He knocked, no answer.
He knocked again, nothing.
He started to walk away, when the door opened, and I'm guessing the woman that emerged informed him that he was too late.
I started looking around in our waiting area, and about a dozen people were all watching this show, mouths open and heads shaking.
I was ready to give up my seat home to help this grunt get a little closer to his home, when he suddenly disappeared as fast as he arrived.
Not many other flights leaving Phoenix at that hour on a Tuesday night.
A moment later, a man walked over from that gate to ours and we asked him about the Marine. He shook his head and confirmed the non-verbal exchange we all witnessed.
Would anyone on the plane complain if they pushed back up to the gate to let this man in uniform get on?
How many times have you missed a connection because your original flight was late? How many lousy hotels have you stayed in, courtesy of the airline, because your flight was delayed again and again until they had to shuttle you off to a hotel and try again the next morning?
I can hear it now, security issues, schedules, etc...
My flight left about 90 minutes late. Our captain boasted about how he was going to make-up for the lost time in getting us back to Bakersfield.
Guess he wasn't worried about the extra fuel cost.
Small price to pay for someones service to our country.
I worked a 10-hour day shift on Monday, got off around 6:30, came home and fell asleep for about 2 hours.
I woke up and packed my Expedition and horse trailer, then drove my wife Lori, our 2-yr old son Cody and her father to Albuquerque for the U.S. Arabian and Half-Arabian Horse Show Championships.
We left at midnight and got into New Mexico at 3:30pm Tuesday afternoon.
I then unloaded everything, got them set up, and raced to the airport to hop a flight back to Bakersfield at 6:10pm. After all, I had to work Wednesday.
I made the connection through Phoenix on U.S. Airways only to be informed my connection home was delayed. Typical.
As I'm sitting by my gate, I see a young man, dressed in his Marine Corp uniform, running through the airport. He's looking for his gate. Mine was switched, so I felt for him.
What I didn't know was he was looking for the gate right across from mine, to catch a flight to Monterrey. I'm guessing he was going home.
The lighted sign said "Doors close at 7pm" and a quick glance at my watch showed it was 7 or 7:01pm.
He realized where he was and bolted for the door that had JUST closed.
He knocked, no answer.
He knocked again, nothing.
He started to walk away, when the door opened, and I'm guessing the woman that emerged informed him that he was too late.
I started looking around in our waiting area, and about a dozen people were all watching this show, mouths open and heads shaking.
I was ready to give up my seat home to help this grunt get a little closer to his home, when he suddenly disappeared as fast as he arrived.
Not many other flights leaving Phoenix at that hour on a Tuesday night.
A moment later, a man walked over from that gate to ours and we asked him about the Marine. He shook his head and confirmed the non-verbal exchange we all witnessed.
Would anyone on the plane complain if they pushed back up to the gate to let this man in uniform get on?
How many times have you missed a connection because your original flight was late? How many lousy hotels have you stayed in, courtesy of the airline, because your flight was delayed again and again until they had to shuttle you off to a hotel and try again the next morning?
I can hear it now, security issues, schedules, etc...
My flight left about 90 minutes late. Our captain boasted about how he was going to make-up for the lost time in getting us back to Bakersfield.
Guess he wasn't worried about the extra fuel cost.
Small price to pay for someones service to our country.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Buyer Beware
Get use to hearing that a lot in the next year.
The variable rates are beginning to reset which I'm told will result in a massive flood of foreclosures.
People are scrambling to get out of loans that many will probably tell you they never should have been in, in the first place.
And the real estate machine will blame the buyer.
Should have known better, shouldn't have committed to a loan that burned up more than 30% of your monthly nut, etc, etc, etc...
But shouldn't the real estate community have stopped these people at some point in the process to point that out.
I mean, someone must have crunched some numbers and figured out the disaster that awaited a family just a few years down the road.
And this isn't just about loans, no, no, no.
What about all the things that go into buying a home.
We just had a family on ABC23 that got into a home that had an addition, and was reportedly told by the seller, that all they needed was a permit and some minor modifications.
Once the ink was dry on the contract, the buyer found out the addition was really a subtraction.
City code had cited 12 violations that had to be corrected in 30 days or bye, bye baby.
I can hear the cry now, "Buyer Beware".
C'mon, be serious.
When I bought the property that my wife and I live in now back in 2001, I had at least a handful of people from different organizations walking us through the entire process.
Was the surge in real estate prices just too much to resist for some?
No, not everyone took advantage of it, but if more than 1 or 2 of your clients are going to lose their home in the next year, then yes, that's a problem.
BUYER BEWARE??
What am I paying the 6%, or 6 points for??
The closing costs, etc, etc, etc...
A friend told me that a colleague in the real estate community wanted to know when all these stories about fraud and foreclosure were going to end.
She said it was hurting business.
I'm sure it was, like this the last time the bubble burst and the time before that.
The long time realtors will survive, the people in it for the quick buck will go back to what they were doing before the boom, and the people who got in to deep will drown.
Yup, Buyer Beware.
Let's hope next time, someone is listening.
The variable rates are beginning to reset which I'm told will result in a massive flood of foreclosures.
People are scrambling to get out of loans that many will probably tell you they never should have been in, in the first place.
And the real estate machine will blame the buyer.
Should have known better, shouldn't have committed to a loan that burned up more than 30% of your monthly nut, etc, etc, etc...
But shouldn't the real estate community have stopped these people at some point in the process to point that out.
I mean, someone must have crunched some numbers and figured out the disaster that awaited a family just a few years down the road.
And this isn't just about loans, no, no, no.
What about all the things that go into buying a home.
We just had a family on ABC23 that got into a home that had an addition, and was reportedly told by the seller, that all they needed was a permit and some minor modifications.
Once the ink was dry on the contract, the buyer found out the addition was really a subtraction.
City code had cited 12 violations that had to be corrected in 30 days or bye, bye baby.
I can hear the cry now, "Buyer Beware".
C'mon, be serious.
When I bought the property that my wife and I live in now back in 2001, I had at least a handful of people from different organizations walking us through the entire process.
Was the surge in real estate prices just too much to resist for some?
No, not everyone took advantage of it, but if more than 1 or 2 of your clients are going to lose their home in the next year, then yes, that's a problem.
BUYER BEWARE??
What am I paying the 6%, or 6 points for??
The closing costs, etc, etc, etc...
A friend told me that a colleague in the real estate community wanted to know when all these stories about fraud and foreclosure were going to end.
She said it was hurting business.
I'm sure it was, like this the last time the bubble burst and the time before that.
The long time realtors will survive, the people in it for the quick buck will go back to what they were doing before the boom, and the people who got in to deep will drown.
Yup, Buyer Beware.
Let's hope next time, someone is listening.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Rest In Peace
I didn't know Gary Foster of Bakersfield, but I'm getting to know the families he left behind.
And it's not pretty.
In case you don't know, Foster is the local man killed in a Colorado pipeline fire at a hydroelectric plant. He was coating the pipe with epoxy when it caught fire.
Foster was one of five people killed in the fire.
In the days following his death, we talked to both sides of Gary's family. His immediate family and his extended family that includes step-relatives.
I'm not privy to the intimate dealings of this family, especially during such a difficult time, but it made my job a lot more difficult.
One side would tell us something about Gary or the investigation, only to have it rebutted by the other side.
I'm not going to go any deeper into the details out of respect for the families, but it suffices to say, that this game of political ping pong is uncomfortable, especially when you're trying to write a story that tells viewers about the person who died.
I won't begin to pretend to understand what Gary's wife, mother, father or anyone else is going through right now, but I'm pretty sure Gary wouldn't be happy about it.
Growing up, the Hart family spent most weekends and holidays with my dad's brothers family.
We had six in our family at the time and they had seven.
Our time together saved for prosperity on 8mm film.
But one day, I'm not even sure when or how, we drifted apart.
I saw them twice over the last 22 years when my father's parents died.
Then, this summer, my cousin Teresa died. Not much older than me. There were all my cousins, my aunt and uncle, all of whom looked and sounded like strangers.
We spent the funeral and part of the gathering afterwards getting caught up.
It was awkward and depressing.
How did I let this relationship become so strained that I couldn't keep in touch with family more frequently over the past two decades?
The fact we live in an age of texting, e-mails and cell phones made this all even more pathetic.
I hope the Foster family will find strength and support in numbers, and dispatch any individual grievances.
There's nothing worse than regret, when there's no way to correct it.
And it's not pretty.
In case you don't know, Foster is the local man killed in a Colorado pipeline fire at a hydroelectric plant. He was coating the pipe with epoxy when it caught fire.
Foster was one of five people killed in the fire.
In the days following his death, we talked to both sides of Gary's family. His immediate family and his extended family that includes step-relatives.
I'm not privy to the intimate dealings of this family, especially during such a difficult time, but it made my job a lot more difficult.
One side would tell us something about Gary or the investigation, only to have it rebutted by the other side.
I'm not going to go any deeper into the details out of respect for the families, but it suffices to say, that this game of political ping pong is uncomfortable, especially when you're trying to write a story that tells viewers about the person who died.
I won't begin to pretend to understand what Gary's wife, mother, father or anyone else is going through right now, but I'm pretty sure Gary wouldn't be happy about it.
Growing up, the Hart family spent most weekends and holidays with my dad's brothers family.
We had six in our family at the time and they had seven.
Our time together saved for prosperity on 8mm film.
But one day, I'm not even sure when or how, we drifted apart.
I saw them twice over the last 22 years when my father's parents died.
Then, this summer, my cousin Teresa died. Not much older than me. There were all my cousins, my aunt and uncle, all of whom looked and sounded like strangers.
We spent the funeral and part of the gathering afterwards getting caught up.
It was awkward and depressing.
How did I let this relationship become so strained that I couldn't keep in touch with family more frequently over the past two decades?
The fact we live in an age of texting, e-mails and cell phones made this all even more pathetic.
I hope the Foster family will find strength and support in numbers, and dispatch any individual grievances.
There's nothing worse than regret, when there's no way to correct it.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Crabtree Investigations
I want to be the first person to nominate local appraiser Gary Crabtree as the lead investigator for the future Real Estate Fraud Unit.
Let me first state that Gary probably doesn't want this job. Not because he can't do it.
Crabtree has been looking into potential cases of mortgage fraud for nearly two years and told a forum this week that he uncovered 202 possible cases to the tune of 114 million dollars.
Most of those are under review by state and federal authorities, but Crabtree approached the DA's office with a handful of cases on the advice of legal counsel for the Bakersfield Assoc. of Realtors Executive Committee.
Ed Jagels told Crabtree that he would forward these cases to his "White Collar Crime" unit.
That's where it ended, for now.
Crabtree told me during a conversation with someone in the unit, he laid out his findings to the investigator who looked back at him and said he wouldn't know where to begin.
Yea, but Gary does.
Gary stated that for the recent mortgage fraud bonanza to take place, you need an appraiser.
Someone to certify the marked up prices.
Who better to stop a thief?!!
I don't think he wants the job, but at the very least, maybe the BPD could get him to do a little freelance with the department.
Since as Gary says, "these "fraudsters" have stolen more money with a pen and paper, than could ever be robbed from a bank with a gun. Let's not let Bakersfield become a sanctuary city for mortgage fraud."
Maybe ease up on the sanctuary talk, that's still a sore spot.
Let me first state that Gary probably doesn't want this job. Not because he can't do it.
Crabtree has been looking into potential cases of mortgage fraud for nearly two years and told a forum this week that he uncovered 202 possible cases to the tune of 114 million dollars.
Most of those are under review by state and federal authorities, but Crabtree approached the DA's office with a handful of cases on the advice of legal counsel for the Bakersfield Assoc. of Realtors Executive Committee.
Ed Jagels told Crabtree that he would forward these cases to his "White Collar Crime" unit.
That's where it ended, for now.
Crabtree told me during a conversation with someone in the unit, he laid out his findings to the investigator who looked back at him and said he wouldn't know where to begin.
Yea, but Gary does.
Gary stated that for the recent mortgage fraud bonanza to take place, you need an appraiser.
Someone to certify the marked up prices.
Who better to stop a thief?!!
I don't think he wants the job, but at the very least, maybe the BPD could get him to do a little freelance with the department.
Since as Gary says, "these "fraudsters" have stolen more money with a pen and paper, than could ever be robbed from a bank with a gun. Let's not let Bakersfield become a sanctuary city for mortgage fraud."
Maybe ease up on the sanctuary talk, that's still a sore spot.
Name Calling Non-Sense
I was neutral on the "In God We Trust issue, not wanting to voice my support and push my religious views onto other people's children in the Kern High School District.
But after several days of badgering on the radio and in the newspaper, I raise the white flag.
After listening and reading all the self-righteous, condescending, ultra left and right leaning, finger pointing and bible thumping, I give in.
Commies, atheists and pagans, oh my!!!
Ken Mettler jumped into the mix on Friday, tossing his support firmly behind Chad Vegas, by downplaying the small (20 or so fanatics he said) group that opposes the idea of hanging "In God We Trust" from the walls of classrooms all over Kern County.
He stated that Jacquie Sullivan's action group brought the idea to the school board and any one of the members could have brought it to the meeting for action.
So why didn't someone else? Why didn't you Ken?
I'm guessing that the hysteria being generated would have been less if one of the other trustees introduced the idea than the Pastor of a local congregation.
Or, if Chad just admitted, yea, I like the idea of "God" in whatever form, being part of young people's lives, just as he is in the foundation of this country, then maybe people will let it go.
Not completely of course.
Will the posters end up in the classroom, most certainly.
Do I mind, not really.
But can we get this over with quickly, the kids in the back of the class are falling asleep.
But after several days of badgering on the radio and in the newspaper, I raise the white flag.
After listening and reading all the self-righteous, condescending, ultra left and right leaning, finger pointing and bible thumping, I give in.
Commies, atheists and pagans, oh my!!!
Ken Mettler jumped into the mix on Friday, tossing his support firmly behind Chad Vegas, by downplaying the small (20 or so fanatics he said) group that opposes the idea of hanging "In God We Trust" from the walls of classrooms all over Kern County.
He stated that Jacquie Sullivan's action group brought the idea to the school board and any one of the members could have brought it to the meeting for action.
So why didn't someone else? Why didn't you Ken?
I'm guessing that the hysteria being generated would have been less if one of the other trustees introduced the idea than the Pastor of a local congregation.
Or, if Chad just admitted, yea, I like the idea of "God" in whatever form, being part of young people's lives, just as he is in the foundation of this country, then maybe people will let it go.
Not completely of course.
Will the posters end up in the classroom, most certainly.
Do I mind, not really.
But can we get this over with quickly, the kids in the back of the class are falling asleep.
Monday, October 1, 2007
"In God We Trust"
Chad Vegas in the ABC23 Studios, 5pm news...
Photo by N.L. Belardes
First, it was changing winter and spring breaks, back to Christmas and Easter.
Now, Kern High School Trustee Chad Vegas wants to redecorate every classroom in the district with the phrase, "In God We Trust".
In a press release from Vegas, he stated that it was the "logical first step in making sure our students are informed and grounded in these basic tenets."
Which ones?
I don't have a problem with the phrase in the Bakersfield City Council chambers, in fact, I silently supported the idea from Jacquie Sullivan.
Take another step back.
I openly complained about the lawsuit brought by an atheist in San Francisco wanting to erase "under God" from the Pledge of Allegiance.
But "In God We Trust" in the classroom?
Why not the Bill of Rights or maybe the U.S. Constitution?
Even if some people believe the phrase might inspire some kids, I think that needs to start at home. My two sons are 10 and 2, and will learn about God and religion at home or in church.
I learned Monday morning while stumbling past a local radio talk show, that part of the confusion and/or resistance is being supplied by the LIBERAL media.
As Chad and the host berated, what I believe they meant to be the local media, I started to laugh.
The conservatives call the media liberal and vise versa. That's the stuff bumper stickers are made of.
It's our job to question everything, especially from our elected leaders. If ONE person has a problem with what you're doing and we report it, suddenly we're the enemy.
But despite our personal feelings, the media is beholden to present BOTH sides of an issue on a daily basis. That job can difficult at times, but not on the topic of religion, where everyone has an opinion and are not afraid to express it.
Good thing this isn't real estate.
I looked back at the story we did in 2004 shortly after Chad Vegas was elected to the board.
Some people were worried about a possible religious agenda, to which Chad replied he was elected to represent the people of the district.
We in the media understand that you can't please everyone and the trustees will have the final say on Chad's plan for new wallpaper.
So perhaps for now, the rest of us will trust in them.
Related Video:
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Resolution Repercussions
A "resolution" is defined by the American Heritage Dictionary as:
- A resolving to do something.
- A course of action determined or decided on.
- A formal statement of a decision or expression of opinion put before or adopted by an assembly such as the U.S. Congress.
I personally think it's a lot of ballyhoo. Political posturing. This is Bakersfield, not Washington, DC.
And it's not legislation or law.
Bakersfield City Council member David Couch wanted to send a message through two or three resolutions, that the city was taking a side.
Maybe not a popular one for many in opposition, but one that would declare English the official language and that the city would not become a sanctuary.
Both resolutions were defeated.
A series of resolutions from Council member Sue Benham all passed.
Those resolutions pitted the city of Bakersfield against the U.S. Government basically demanding Washington to enforce immigration laws, develop policies and order the BPD to continue cooperating with federal agencies on immigration matters.
Not the same as Couch's proposal, but one that he even agreed sent a message.
But not the same message.
It's almost as if the council made the safe play, passing the buck to the federal government, just as city's and county's have been doing for years in regards to immigration.
I think English should be declared the official language in Bakersfield, even though the California Constitution already takes care of that, and that there should be no sanctuary status for undocumented workers.
Some council members who voted down Couch's resolutions, later stated they would vote down the sanctuary idea if it ever came to a vote. It did, Wednesday night.
If you want to make a statement, look south to San Diego.
Supervisors wanted to know what kind of an impact illegal immigrants had on their area. A study found that 10% of the county's annual budget was spent on services for illegal immigrants. That amount topped $100 million last year alone.
They are now trying to enlist the help of a San Diego Congressman to enact legislation to seek reimbursement from the federal government, for failing to stop illegals from crossing the border and using services that taxpayers pay for.
Supervisor Bill Horn said Tuesday that he did not intend for the board's vote to be a symbolic gesture, even though previous "illegal immigration bills" sent by the county to the federal government in 1994 and 2001 have not been paid.
I know, that's an issue for Kern County to follow, not the City Council.
But the Council had their chance Wednesday night, to send a message to the residents of Bakersfield.
And decided to bend it like Benham, instead of sitting on the Couch.
San Diego information provided by the North County Times
- A resolving to do something.
- A course of action determined or decided on.
- A formal statement of a decision or expression of opinion put before or adopted by an assembly such as the U.S. Congress.
I personally think it's a lot of ballyhoo. Political posturing. This is Bakersfield, not Washington, DC.
And it's not legislation or law.
Bakersfield City Council member David Couch wanted to send a message through two or three resolutions, that the city was taking a side.
Maybe not a popular one for many in opposition, but one that would declare English the official language and that the city would not become a sanctuary.
Both resolutions were defeated.
A series of resolutions from Council member Sue Benham all passed.
Those resolutions pitted the city of Bakersfield against the U.S. Government basically demanding Washington to enforce immigration laws, develop policies and order the BPD to continue cooperating with federal agencies on immigration matters.
Not the same as Couch's proposal, but one that he even agreed sent a message.
But not the same message.
It's almost as if the council made the safe play, passing the buck to the federal government, just as city's and county's have been doing for years in regards to immigration.
I think English should be declared the official language in Bakersfield, even though the California Constitution already takes care of that, and that there should be no sanctuary status for undocumented workers.
Some council members who voted down Couch's resolutions, later stated they would vote down the sanctuary idea if it ever came to a vote. It did, Wednesday night.
If you want to make a statement, look south to San Diego.
Supervisors wanted to know what kind of an impact illegal immigrants had on their area. A study found that 10% of the county's annual budget was spent on services for illegal immigrants. That amount topped $100 million last year alone.
They are now trying to enlist the help of a San Diego Congressman to enact legislation to seek reimbursement from the federal government, for failing to stop illegals from crossing the border and using services that taxpayers pay for.
Supervisor Bill Horn said Tuesday that he did not intend for the board's vote to be a symbolic gesture, even though previous "illegal immigration bills" sent by the county to the federal government in 1994 and 2001 have not been paid.
I know, that's an issue for Kern County to follow, not the City Council.
But the Council had their chance Wednesday night, to send a message to the residents of Bakersfield.
And decided to bend it like Benham, instead of sitting on the Couch.
San Diego information provided by the North County Times
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
The Other Half
I'm still adjusting from a whirlwind 4-day, 3-night trip to Cabo.
It was unlike any vacation I've ever taken, from the Gulfstream Jet, to the One & Only Palmilla resort and private yacht, this was one to remember.
And I've got the pictures and videotape to prove it.
This trip was courtesy of my wife. Actually, she and five other Outback partners were tops in California last year, earning the five star trip from the man behind all 63 restaurants in California.
They all got to bring their spouses. No rules, just right, baby.
I've had a lot of great vacations in my life, from my 1st trip to the Grand Canyon when I was 8 yrs old, to my family's annual pilgrimage to Disneyland during the Christmas holiday. (There's nothing like fake snow on Main Street)
I've never measured a vacation by the amount of money I spent, or this time, didn't spend, but instead by the memories and there were plenty.
For those of you who haven't been to Palmilla in Cabo de San Jose, let me set the stage for you.
You walk to the pool to find what appears to be a queen sized futon. An employee approaches and places his hand over his heart (a resort tradition that means "my pleasure) and asks if you'd like a bottle of water or anything else to drink. He brings a towel and fan to deal with the 95 degree heat and 100% humidity.
Later, he returns with ice goggles and suggests a massage.
In the room, our butler (complimentary) makes sure the bed is turned down, with flowers in the shape of the resort insignia at the foot of the comforter. Cocktail snacks arrive everyday at the same time, with a note asking if we needed him to refresh the fruit. Yes, refresh the fruit.
I didn't look at the bill, even though I wasn't paying, because I didn't want to know. This was a fantasy of sorts, one that I didn't want to spoil.
Our host treated us to a lavish dinner at three phenomenal restaurants every night during the trip. He popped for golf and drinks, refusing to let anyone else pickup the tab.
This was his way of thanking my wife and her business partners for their extremely hard work in 2006 and I was along for the ride.
I expressed my gratitude at every turn, to which he simply smiled and said, "No, thank you."
This might be how the other half lives, but he's in a class by himself.
Thanks Tom.
It was unlike any vacation I've ever taken, from the Gulfstream Jet, to the One & Only Palmilla resort and private yacht, this was one to remember.
And I've got the pictures and videotape to prove it.
This trip was courtesy of my wife. Actually, she and five other Outback partners were tops in California last year, earning the five star trip from the man behind all 63 restaurants in California.
They all got to bring their spouses. No rules, just right, baby.
I've had a lot of great vacations in my life, from my 1st trip to the Grand Canyon when I was 8 yrs old, to my family's annual pilgrimage to Disneyland during the Christmas holiday. (There's nothing like fake snow on Main Street)
I've never measured a vacation by the amount of money I spent, or this time, didn't spend, but instead by the memories and there were plenty.
For those of you who haven't been to Palmilla in Cabo de San Jose, let me set the stage for you.
You walk to the pool to find what appears to be a queen sized futon. An employee approaches and places his hand over his heart (a resort tradition that means "my pleasure) and asks if you'd like a bottle of water or anything else to drink. He brings a towel and fan to deal with the 95 degree heat and 100% humidity.
Later, he returns with ice goggles and suggests a massage.
In the room, our butler (complimentary) makes sure the bed is turned down, with flowers in the shape of the resort insignia at the foot of the comforter. Cocktail snacks arrive everyday at the same time, with a note asking if we needed him to refresh the fruit. Yes, refresh the fruit.
I didn't look at the bill, even though I wasn't paying, because I didn't want to know. This was a fantasy of sorts, one that I didn't want to spoil.
Our host treated us to a lavish dinner at three phenomenal restaurants every night during the trip. He popped for golf and drinks, refusing to let anyone else pickup the tab.
This was his way of thanking my wife and her business partners for their extremely hard work in 2006 and I was along for the ride.
I expressed my gratitude at every turn, to which he simply smiled and said, "No, thank you."
This might be how the other half lives, but he's in a class by himself.
Thanks Tom.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Blog 101: The Bubble Bursts
I'm new to the blog game.
It's a different beast, that relies on anonymity, trust and the willingness to take the heat in a spirited debate.
Point taken.
Our new website managing editor and seasoned blogger gave me some advice before we started this new venture.
Rule #1: When posting don't get into a back and forth banter with a blogger, because it takes away from the issue.
Yea, forgot that one.
I hopped over to a real estate blog site yesterday, Bakersfield Bubble, and happened into a discussion about the FBI Raid involving Crisp & Cole.
The blood was everywhere.
Amidst the conversation was the occasional media bashing for not being on top of this story sooner. Fair enough.
We've keeping an eye on the story for about a year, and did the occasional piece.
The latest juicy tid bit involves Crisp selling off gold faucets, handles and other fixtures in his home for cash. Still trying to track that one down or at least get a picture from inside the house.
But all the rumors and innuendo's don't mean anything without someone willing to stand up and talk about it on camera.
Perfect example: News Bulletin - Housing market on a downhill slide, sales decline, rates could rise. But that's not what people in the biz tell you here, where everything is fine and dandy.
Yes, we know that's not right, but again, no one willing to step forward and go against the tide.
Sometimes that unwillingness to help break a story you've been dogging for a while can get the best of you.
Especially when you read comments from people who insist your not doing your job.
This is not my story, but KERO takes a team approach to reporting, pitching in whenever something pops up.
I asked for help from an arena that clearly seemed to have their ear to the ground on this one and has so for some time.
That's what a reporter does. That's how you dig. You want documents, background, etc. You talk to people and dig.
Maybe I didn't ask in the right way, because I certainly didn't respond in kind and it got the best of me.
I've been in the news game a long time and work hard to make sure both sides of any story are heard.
But airing opinion and gossip with no one to attribute it to is not journalism.
Better for a blog than the news.
A big thanks to Bakersfield Bubble, or BB, for e-mailing me once the dust settled, along with a couple other people who will go unnamed.
Simply because I don't know their name, only their blog identity and e-mail address.
It's a different beast, that relies on anonymity, trust and the willingness to take the heat in a spirited debate.
Point taken.
Our new website managing editor and seasoned blogger gave me some advice before we started this new venture.
Rule #1: When posting don't get into a back and forth banter with a blogger, because it takes away from the issue.
Yea, forgot that one.
I hopped over to a real estate blog site yesterday, Bakersfield Bubble, and happened into a discussion about the FBI Raid involving Crisp & Cole.
The blood was everywhere.
Amidst the conversation was the occasional media bashing for not being on top of this story sooner. Fair enough.
We've keeping an eye on the story for about a year, and did the occasional piece.
The latest juicy tid bit involves Crisp selling off gold faucets, handles and other fixtures in his home for cash. Still trying to track that one down or at least get a picture from inside the house.
But all the rumors and innuendo's don't mean anything without someone willing to stand up and talk about it on camera.
Perfect example: News Bulletin - Housing market on a downhill slide, sales decline, rates could rise. But that's not what people in the biz tell you here, where everything is fine and dandy.
Yes, we know that's not right, but again, no one willing to step forward and go against the tide.
Sometimes that unwillingness to help break a story you've been dogging for a while can get the best of you.
Especially when you read comments from people who insist your not doing your job.
This is not my story, but KERO takes a team approach to reporting, pitching in whenever something pops up.
I asked for help from an arena that clearly seemed to have their ear to the ground on this one and has so for some time.
That's what a reporter does. That's how you dig. You want documents, background, etc. You talk to people and dig.
Maybe I didn't ask in the right way, because I certainly didn't respond in kind and it got the best of me.
I've been in the news game a long time and work hard to make sure both sides of any story are heard.
But airing opinion and gossip with no one to attribute it to is not journalism.
Better for a blog than the news.
A big thanks to Bakersfield Bubble, or BB, for e-mailing me once the dust settled, along with a couple other people who will go unnamed.
Simply because I don't know their name, only their blog identity and e-mail address.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Crisp & Cole: The Beginning
It's amazing how many people knew this would happen.
How many people predicted this would happen.
But opinion is not fact.
I've been reading a lot of blogs on a variety of web sites in the past two days.
It's like the real estate world has been waiting for the other shoe to drop and are now using it to kick the once prominent pair in the backside for destroying the housing market.
There's joy in Bakerstown with the collapse of the high-profile duo.
But the accusations had a side effect; creating an atmosphere of mistrust for everyone else in the business.
One lender tells me that buyers are leary of everyone in real estate across the board.
But did they wreck the local market, or are they simply being set up as the scapegoats?
The foreclosures will definitely hurt the surrounding property values in the respective neighborhoods and banks will eat the loans.
I've read about the properties listed in the Dept. of Real Estate's accusations and a few other we managed to dig up. I've also scanned a few on various blogs.
But was it something bigger?
As the market soared, so did housing prices.
I had friends who say realtors were fighting over their property before it ever listed and got their client to pay $50,000 more than they were asking for it.
Who fueled this anxiety?
I know, the media. No, not really.
What about the fly-by-night realtors who jumped into the market to make a quick buck, and are now jumping right back out again.
The inflated appraisals, the easy to get loans and plenty of homes to buy.
Now, the investigation has begun with no real end in sight.
In the wake, the market is left to readjust.
I'm told it could take until 2009.
That should be just long enough to sell off three years worth of housing inventory that's sitting in the market's wake.
How many people predicted this would happen.
But opinion is not fact.
I've been reading a lot of blogs on a variety of web sites in the past two days.
It's like the real estate world has been waiting for the other shoe to drop and are now using it to kick the once prominent pair in the backside for destroying the housing market.
There's joy in Bakerstown with the collapse of the high-profile duo.
But the accusations had a side effect; creating an atmosphere of mistrust for everyone else in the business.
One lender tells me that buyers are leary of everyone in real estate across the board.
But did they wreck the local market, or are they simply being set up as the scapegoats?
The foreclosures will definitely hurt the surrounding property values in the respective neighborhoods and banks will eat the loans.
I've read about the properties listed in the Dept. of Real Estate's accusations and a few other we managed to dig up. I've also scanned a few on various blogs.
But was it something bigger?
As the market soared, so did housing prices.
I had friends who say realtors were fighting over their property before it ever listed and got their client to pay $50,000 more than they were asking for it.
Who fueled this anxiety?
I know, the media. No, not really.
What about the fly-by-night realtors who jumped into the market to make a quick buck, and are now jumping right back out again.
The inflated appraisals, the easy to get loans and plenty of homes to buy.
Now, the investigation has begun with no real end in sight.
In the wake, the market is left to readjust.
I'm told it could take until 2009.
That should be just long enough to sell off three years worth of housing inventory that's sitting in the market's wake.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Down and Dirty
My mother-in-law said the microwave made a loud popping sound and then died.
No smoke, no more digital display and no more zapping food.
I got home from work and stared at it. What would I do? My 2-yr old wanted a hot dog. How would I satisfy him?
I was a pretty good cook in my bachelor days. Now, my mastery is reserved for the BBQ. But I can still boil water and drop in a couple Oscar Meyer's.
After several moments of indecision, I served up the steamin' weenies to my son and began to realize how often that we ate out. I'm not talking about a nice sit down, restaurant style meal, but just something on the fly to get us to the next meal.
Have we become so busy as a society, that home cooked meals are something I tell stories about like some bit of nostalgia.
It made me think of my days detailing cars at Earnhardt Ford in Tempe, Arizona. Cleaning out the inside of a trade-in that was sitting on an Arizona parking lot all day. Nothing like climbing inside an oven to scrape out the garbage left by someone trading up.
I use to run the wheel(buffing wax), paint engines and give some old jalopy new life. Or at least add another $2,500 dollars to the price.
From mowing lawns to washing dishes at a Senior Citizen's home, I was self-sufficient.
In this day and age, we eat out, cruise through the car wash and pay a landscaper to keep our lawns looking green.
Are these jobs I just don't want to do anymore?
True, I washed more cars, mowed more lawns and scraped more dried prunes out of a plastic cup than I ever care to remember, but I'm not physically unable to do it.
Not to mention, it would probably save a couple hundred bucks a month.
Maybe supporters of illegal immigration (undocumented worker) legislation are right. Maybe these are jobs Americans don't want to do.
But what if we suddenly decided to do these things for ourselves again.
Eat out a little less, find a bucket with soap in it and crank up the old mower.
I'm part of a two income family and free time can be hard to come by, but I won't be using that as an excuse anymore.
Maybe it's time to get down and dirty, and save a little money.
Then, I can afford to buy another microwave.
No smoke, no more digital display and no more zapping food.
I got home from work and stared at it. What would I do? My 2-yr old wanted a hot dog. How would I satisfy him?
I was a pretty good cook in my bachelor days. Now, my mastery is reserved for the BBQ. But I can still boil water and drop in a couple Oscar Meyer's.
After several moments of indecision, I served up the steamin' weenies to my son and began to realize how often that we ate out. I'm not talking about a nice sit down, restaurant style meal, but just something on the fly to get us to the next meal.
Have we become so busy as a society, that home cooked meals are something I tell stories about like some bit of nostalgia.
It made me think of my days detailing cars at Earnhardt Ford in Tempe, Arizona. Cleaning out the inside of a trade-in that was sitting on an Arizona parking lot all day. Nothing like climbing inside an oven to scrape out the garbage left by someone trading up.
I use to run the wheel(buffing wax), paint engines and give some old jalopy new life. Or at least add another $2,500 dollars to the price.
From mowing lawns to washing dishes at a Senior Citizen's home, I was self-sufficient.
In this day and age, we eat out, cruise through the car wash and pay a landscaper to keep our lawns looking green.
Are these jobs I just don't want to do anymore?
True, I washed more cars, mowed more lawns and scraped more dried prunes out of a plastic cup than I ever care to remember, but I'm not physically unable to do it.
Not to mention, it would probably save a couple hundred bucks a month.
Maybe supporters of illegal immigration (undocumented worker) legislation are right. Maybe these are jobs Americans don't want to do.
But what if we suddenly decided to do these things for ourselves again.
Eat out a little less, find a bucket with soap in it and crank up the old mower.
I'm part of a two income family and free time can be hard to come by, but I won't be using that as an excuse anymore.
Maybe it's time to get down and dirty, and save a little money.
Then, I can afford to buy another microwave.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Shoot First, Answer Questions Later
It seems like a pretty simple request, only when coming from law enforcement it's an order.
Some people call it a threat. To whom, can be a point of debate.
24-yr old German Sarabia of Bakersfield was inside a car at midnight Saturday near Lake Street, when two deputies saw the vehicle roll up outside a house and open fire.
No mistaken identity, no second hand information, the deputies witnessed the shooting.
The pursuit was short, as the cowards bailed out of the vehicle.
Two men were captured without incident, while according to the report, Sarabia ran into a backyard on Lake Street, with a gun in his hand.
He was confronted by nearly a dozen BPD and Sheriff Deputies, with anywhere from one to 12 years on the job. There was also a Sheriff's Sgt. on hand with 22 years experience.
The report indicated multiple commands were given to drop the weapon, which he reportedly ignored and decided to raise the gun in the direction of officers.
Big mistake.
The coroner's autopsy determined that 34 projectiles were recovered from the body of German Sarabia.
Yes, that's not a misprint, 34 bullets.
The 11 officers fired about 100 times.
Do the math, that's about 3 hits per officer who fired about 9 shots each.
No one else was hit or injured.
The family has not spoken, but I'm sure these details will provoke some type of reaction.
So here's mine.
In case you don't know, the BPD and Sheriff's Dept. have a policy when it comes to a gun-toting suspect who threatens public life or an officer's.
He is trained to shoot until the threat is neutralized. There is no winging the suspect in the leg or arm. The torso makes a big target.
If a man is hit, but still holding the gun, he's a threat.
If a man is down, but still holding the gun, he's a threat.
You get the idea.
I don't have a problem with the number of times the officer fired. I wasn't there.
I know this, if I'm standing there, I don't want him firing back at me.
I do, however, have a problem with people that have a blatant disregard for laws and human life.
There's no telling what Sarabia was thinking at the time, but it appears there was no chance he was going to drop the gun.
How many chances do you give a guy holding a weapon? How long do you wait? Why didn't he leave the gun in the car or ditch it when he took off running? Was this a suicide by cop situation?
We'll never know.
I'm glad no one else was injured. The number of shots fired will almost surely raise questions about public safety, especially for people who lived within feet of the deadly confrontation.
Kern County has a reputation around the state when it comes to law enforcement.
I look back on the "We'll Kick Your Ass" controversy and laugh. I never blamed Mack, I thought the whole thing was a joke. Still, when it comes to drawing a line between right and wrong, I came up with a slogan for law enforcement that was meant in the most positive way.
"We shoot first, and ANSWER questions later."
Sure, it's a little strong, but I don't mind.
I feel great sorrow for Sarabia's family or anyone whose loved one is killed at the hands of police.
I also have sympathy for the officer or deputy who will live with the memory of that moment for the rest of their life.
It's something a gun-wielding suspect probably never contemplates until it's too late.
There's no glory, no immortality and no honor in it.
Only questions that never get answered.
Some people call it a threat. To whom, can be a point of debate.
24-yr old German Sarabia of Bakersfield was inside a car at midnight Saturday near Lake Street, when two deputies saw the vehicle roll up outside a house and open fire.
No mistaken identity, no second hand information, the deputies witnessed the shooting.
The pursuit was short, as the cowards bailed out of the vehicle.
Two men were captured without incident, while according to the report, Sarabia ran into a backyard on Lake Street, with a gun in his hand.
He was confronted by nearly a dozen BPD and Sheriff Deputies, with anywhere from one to 12 years on the job. There was also a Sheriff's Sgt. on hand with 22 years experience.
The report indicated multiple commands were given to drop the weapon, which he reportedly ignored and decided to raise the gun in the direction of officers.
Big mistake.
The coroner's autopsy determined that 34 projectiles were recovered from the body of German Sarabia.
Yes, that's not a misprint, 34 bullets.
The 11 officers fired about 100 times.
Do the math, that's about 3 hits per officer who fired about 9 shots each.
No one else was hit or injured.
The family has not spoken, but I'm sure these details will provoke some type of reaction.
So here's mine.
In case you don't know, the BPD and Sheriff's Dept. have a policy when it comes to a gun-toting suspect who threatens public life or an officer's.
He is trained to shoot until the threat is neutralized. There is no winging the suspect in the leg or arm. The torso makes a big target.
If a man is hit, but still holding the gun, he's a threat.
If a man is down, but still holding the gun, he's a threat.
You get the idea.
I don't have a problem with the number of times the officer fired. I wasn't there.
I know this, if I'm standing there, I don't want him firing back at me.
I do, however, have a problem with people that have a blatant disregard for laws and human life.
There's no telling what Sarabia was thinking at the time, but it appears there was no chance he was going to drop the gun.
How many chances do you give a guy holding a weapon? How long do you wait? Why didn't he leave the gun in the car or ditch it when he took off running? Was this a suicide by cop situation?
We'll never know.
I'm glad no one else was injured. The number of shots fired will almost surely raise questions about public safety, especially for people who lived within feet of the deadly confrontation.
Kern County has a reputation around the state when it comes to law enforcement.
I look back on the "We'll Kick Your Ass" controversy and laugh. I never blamed Mack, I thought the whole thing was a joke. Still, when it comes to drawing a line between right and wrong, I came up with a slogan for law enforcement that was meant in the most positive way.
"We shoot first, and ANSWER questions later."
Sure, it's a little strong, but I don't mind.
I feel great sorrow for Sarabia's family or anyone whose loved one is killed at the hands of police.
I also have sympathy for the officer or deputy who will live with the memory of that moment for the rest of their life.
It's something a gun-wielding suspect probably never contemplates until it's too late.
There's no glory, no immortality and no honor in it.
Only questions that never get answered.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Animal Control
The first time I saw it, I froze.
My neighbor's son was trying to scare it away, and it simply stood there checking him out.
An adult male pit bull. I'm not sure if it was the American Pit Bull Terrier, the American Staffordshire Terrier or Staffordshire Bull Terrier. But it was a pit bull, with tail wagging and tongue hanging.
I wasn't buying any of it.
I'm not a fan of this breed.
I've reported on too many pit bull attacks and the response by the owner is always the same. "It's the sweetest dog, who's never shown any type of aggression before."
I yelled to my neighbor's boy to walk away and stop waving his arms. My son came out of the house and I told him to turn around and walk back inside.
The dog stood there staring at me and I was looking back at him. I yelled at him to take off using a few bits of profanity. Almost humorous considering the dog has no clue as to what I'm saying, only reacting to voice inflection and rhythm.
But this is no joke, it's a pit bull.
I walked back to my house and picked up a Bakersfield Blaze mini-baseball bat, the only thing I could find at the moment. By the time I came back, he was gone. It was then I heard my son screaming from the house that the dog was in the backyard.
That's where the one-eyed cat my son rescued was hanging out. Nice little snack for the pit bull if he saw it, but he didn't.
I came out swinging, at anything metal or could make a loud noise. The dog paused and then ran away through the pasture. There were no horses out at the time, or they would have ended this threat with one kick.
I called Sheriff's dispatch, to tell them a male pit bull with no ID tag was loose in my neighborhood with kids and small animals.
The dispatcher asked me if it was being aggressive or if it attacked anyone. No, on both counts. She told me it was the weekend, and animal control wouldn't be back in until Monday. I asked what I was suppose to do, wait until it attacked someone before you came out. She basically said yes and offered to leave a message for animal control.
Sure, I've got a message for animal control, don't put the general public in a position with having to deal with a potentially dangerous animal.
My wife told me it's not the dogs fault that it's a pit bull, and I told her this isn't personal, it's business.
I can't work around A.C.'s schedule when this kind of animal suddenly shows up. I'm not going to wait until my child is hurt or an animal attacked before someone responds.
True this dog was showing no aggression, but it's a PIT BULL.
Maybe the breed gets a bad rap from the media, who never reports on a pit bull doing anything good. It's also true that any dog has the capacity to bite someone. But people don't die if a Schnauzer flips out.
Famous pit bull owners include Jessica Alba, Michael J. Fox, West Coast Choppers owner Jesse James, Rachel Ray and even Jon Stewart.
I'm happy for them and their pit bulls. Hopefully, they exercise a little responsibility. Beginning with a 5-foot high electric fence around the property and at the very least a dog tag.
Because if this pit bull shows up in the neighborhood again, it will be the last time anyone sees it.
My neighbor's son was trying to scare it away, and it simply stood there checking him out.
An adult male pit bull. I'm not sure if it was the American Pit Bull Terrier, the American Staffordshire Terrier or Staffordshire Bull Terrier. But it was a pit bull, with tail wagging and tongue hanging.
I wasn't buying any of it.
I'm not a fan of this breed.
I've reported on too many pit bull attacks and the response by the owner is always the same. "It's the sweetest dog, who's never shown any type of aggression before."
I yelled to my neighbor's boy to walk away and stop waving his arms. My son came out of the house and I told him to turn around and walk back inside.
The dog stood there staring at me and I was looking back at him. I yelled at him to take off using a few bits of profanity. Almost humorous considering the dog has no clue as to what I'm saying, only reacting to voice inflection and rhythm.
But this is no joke, it's a pit bull.
I walked back to my house and picked up a Bakersfield Blaze mini-baseball bat, the only thing I could find at the moment. By the time I came back, he was gone. It was then I heard my son screaming from the house that the dog was in the backyard.
That's where the one-eyed cat my son rescued was hanging out. Nice little snack for the pit bull if he saw it, but he didn't.
I came out swinging, at anything metal or could make a loud noise. The dog paused and then ran away through the pasture. There were no horses out at the time, or they would have ended this threat with one kick.
I called Sheriff's dispatch, to tell them a male pit bull with no ID tag was loose in my neighborhood with kids and small animals.
The dispatcher asked me if it was being aggressive or if it attacked anyone. No, on both counts. She told me it was the weekend, and animal control wouldn't be back in until Monday. I asked what I was suppose to do, wait until it attacked someone before you came out. She basically said yes and offered to leave a message for animal control.
Sure, I've got a message for animal control, don't put the general public in a position with having to deal with a potentially dangerous animal.
My wife told me it's not the dogs fault that it's a pit bull, and I told her this isn't personal, it's business.
I can't work around A.C.'s schedule when this kind of animal suddenly shows up. I'm not going to wait until my child is hurt or an animal attacked before someone responds.
True this dog was showing no aggression, but it's a PIT BULL.
Maybe the breed gets a bad rap from the media, who never reports on a pit bull doing anything good. It's also true that any dog has the capacity to bite someone. But people don't die if a Schnauzer flips out.
Famous pit bull owners include Jessica Alba, Michael J. Fox, West Coast Choppers owner Jesse James, Rachel Ray and even Jon Stewart.
I'm happy for them and their pit bulls. Hopefully, they exercise a little responsibility. Beginning with a 5-foot high electric fence around the property and at the very least a dog tag.
Because if this pit bull shows up in the neighborhood again, it will be the last time anyone sees it.
43
It wasn't bad.
Almost refreshing that my 43rd birthday came and went with mild hysteria.
My 40th was a bash. Probably not as big as the 50th will be. My 9-yr old Michael will be driving when I hit the half-century mark.
Hard to imagine. My wife Lori and I got married when I hit 30 then waited a few years to start a family, and now like most couples in my generation, will be watching my 1st child graduate college when I'm 55?!
I was starting to drive when my dad touched 40.
I think of my 2-yr old Cody that will graduate college when I'm 62.
Still, it's like watching my own parents with my youngest brother John. A handsome, strapping, intelligent young man of 25, who works for amazon.com in Seattle.
I remember changing his diapers my freshman year in college. It was quite a gap. My brothers and sister were convinced my parents were trying for another girl. Before John, the scoreboard read: Boys=4 Girls=1.
Lori and I are finished with two. Considering the rest of the family includes horses, dogs and cats, we've got our hands full with two. We even seperated them by about seven years. I tell people we wanted to space out the college payments.
I spent this birthday with the boys. No, not with my friends or guys my own age. I do that whenever, including a boys weekend in Las Vegas once a year to play golf and remind ourselves we're not 21.
No, this birthday was with Michael, Cody and Michael's best friend Kevin.
We swam, tossed the ball around, ate at the Outback Steakhouse and came home to collapse. My wife and I celebrated later. It was one of the best birthdays in a while.
There's something about growing older. Your so busy experiencing life in your 20's, you need to catch up professionally in the 30's, so by the time you reach the 40's you have some idea of what you need to do to get through your 50's in time to enjoy your 60's and beyond. All the while, making sure not to miss what's right in front of you during the trip.
Speaking of that, Cody just woke up from his nap.
A reminder that birthday's are just a day on the calender, while life comes at you every second of every day. Especially when a 2-yr old needs a diaper change.
Almost refreshing that my 43rd birthday came and went with mild hysteria.
My 40th was a bash. Probably not as big as the 50th will be. My 9-yr old Michael will be driving when I hit the half-century mark.
Hard to imagine. My wife Lori and I got married when I hit 30 then waited a few years to start a family, and now like most couples in my generation, will be watching my 1st child graduate college when I'm 55?!
I was starting to drive when my dad touched 40.
I think of my 2-yr old Cody that will graduate college when I'm 62.
Still, it's like watching my own parents with my youngest brother John. A handsome, strapping, intelligent young man of 25, who works for amazon.com in Seattle.
I remember changing his diapers my freshman year in college. It was quite a gap. My brothers and sister were convinced my parents were trying for another girl. Before John, the scoreboard read: Boys=4 Girls=1.
Lori and I are finished with two. Considering the rest of the family includes horses, dogs and cats, we've got our hands full with two. We even seperated them by about seven years. I tell people we wanted to space out the college payments.
I spent this birthday with the boys. No, not with my friends or guys my own age. I do that whenever, including a boys weekend in Las Vegas once a year to play golf and remind ourselves we're not 21.
No, this birthday was with Michael, Cody and Michael's best friend Kevin.
We swam, tossed the ball around, ate at the Outback Steakhouse and came home to collapse. My wife and I celebrated later. It was one of the best birthdays in a while.
There's something about growing older. Your so busy experiencing life in your 20's, you need to catch up professionally in the 30's, so by the time you reach the 40's you have some idea of what you need to do to get through your 50's in time to enjoy your 60's and beyond. All the while, making sure not to miss what's right in front of you during the trip.
Speaking of that, Cody just woke up from his nap.
A reminder that birthday's are just a day on the calender, while life comes at you every second of every day. Especially when a 2-yr old needs a diaper change.
Irish Sun Devil
The 2007 College Football Season is upon us and I'm preparing myself once again to cheer for my teams. Yes, teams, plural.
I was born into Notre Dame, but attended Arizona State University.
Let's back up for a moment. My father went to ND and my mother St. Mary's, which was located across the lake. All aunts and uncles from both families went to ND or St. Mary's. The overwhelming majority of my cousins went to ND, all but one.
There are five boys and 1 girl in my family. My sister went to St. Mary's and two brothers to ND. The other three, myself included went to ASU.
It was a civil relationship until 1998 and 1999 when the Devils and Irish played a home-and-home series. ND won both games. Until then, I had never thought about cheering for one team over the other. Those two years, I was in maroon and gold, singing the ASU fight song, a diddy perhaps not as well known as the Notre Dame Victory March.
Still, time past and I was back rooting for both teams. I mean what the hell, there was some similarity, in the form of U.S.C. Nothing like getting to jeer the trojans twice in the same season.
That was until I was informed that I couldn't cheer for Notre Dame anymore. Spoken like a true Trojan fan. The Tommy Trojan-esqe graduate told me that since I didn't graduate from ND, I couldn't ride him about the rivalry between ND and SC.
Say what?!
I remember vividly the 1973 Sugar Bowl, beating Alabama 24-23. My father and his pal from 'Bama screaming and yelling in my parents living room. In the end, my father ate his Bear Bryant look-a-like hat.
And yes, I recall the 1974 USC-ND game and the superhuman performace by Anthony Davis in the 2nd half that will go down as the biggest single half collapse, or comeback, in college football history. (My father is convinced A.D. juiced at halftime)
I sat in the stands in South Bend for most of the '76-'78 seasons when we lived in Michigan. My father drove us there almost every home weekend.
My mother's parents had season tickets and connections to get almost every relative within driving distance into the stadium. I watched all the big names before they became big names in person. I lived it, breathed it and was fully immersed in it.
But, I didn't go. I went to Arizona State instead. No regrets, until now.
I can't cheer for the Irish?? That's like saying I can't support our troops because I wasn't in the military. Or that the millions, yes tens of millions of people who cheer for the Irish, buy their gear, watch their network (NBC), and remember the lore that made the program the greatest of all-time, suddenly cannot cheer against the Trojans. Don't hold it against the Trojans, despite Pete's attempts, the all-time record does favor the Irish 42-31-5.
I'll continue yelling for the Irish, while screaming for my Devils. (Notice the reference of "the" Irish and "my" Devils) There is a distinct difference.
Of course, until they play each other again. I heard that's in the works for 2010 or something. Dennis Erickson should have my Devils ready by then.
I was born into Notre Dame, but attended Arizona State University.
Let's back up for a moment. My father went to ND and my mother St. Mary's, which was located across the lake. All aunts and uncles from both families went to ND or St. Mary's. The overwhelming majority of my cousins went to ND, all but one.
There are five boys and 1 girl in my family. My sister went to St. Mary's and two brothers to ND. The other three, myself included went to ASU.
It was a civil relationship until 1998 and 1999 when the Devils and Irish played a home-and-home series. ND won both games. Until then, I had never thought about cheering for one team over the other. Those two years, I was in maroon and gold, singing the ASU fight song, a diddy perhaps not as well known as the Notre Dame Victory March.
Still, time past and I was back rooting for both teams. I mean what the hell, there was some similarity, in the form of U.S.C. Nothing like getting to jeer the trojans twice in the same season.
That was until I was informed that I couldn't cheer for Notre Dame anymore. Spoken like a true Trojan fan. The Tommy Trojan-esqe graduate told me that since I didn't graduate from ND, I couldn't ride him about the rivalry between ND and SC.
Say what?!
I remember vividly the 1973 Sugar Bowl, beating Alabama 24-23. My father and his pal from 'Bama screaming and yelling in my parents living room. In the end, my father ate his Bear Bryant look-a-like hat.
And yes, I recall the 1974 USC-ND game and the superhuman performace by Anthony Davis in the 2nd half that will go down as the biggest single half collapse, or comeback, in college football history. (My father is convinced A.D. juiced at halftime)
I sat in the stands in South Bend for most of the '76-'78 seasons when we lived in Michigan. My father drove us there almost every home weekend.
My mother's parents had season tickets and connections to get almost every relative within driving distance into the stadium. I watched all the big names before they became big names in person. I lived it, breathed it and was fully immersed in it.
But, I didn't go. I went to Arizona State instead. No regrets, until now.
I can't cheer for the Irish?? That's like saying I can't support our troops because I wasn't in the military. Or that the millions, yes tens of millions of people who cheer for the Irish, buy their gear, watch their network (NBC), and remember the lore that made the program the greatest of all-time, suddenly cannot cheer against the Trojans. Don't hold it against the Trojans, despite Pete's attempts, the all-time record does favor the Irish 42-31-5.
I'll continue yelling for the Irish, while screaming for my Devils. (Notice the reference of "the" Irish and "my" Devils) There is a distinct difference.
Of course, until they play each other again. I heard that's in the works for 2010 or something. Dennis Erickson should have my Devils ready by then.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
D.U.I. = Denial Under the Influence
Two Southern California men were arrested Wednesday morning in connection with the boating hit-and-run accident that injured 12-year old Dallen McEntire of Bakersfield on Labor Day Weekend of last year.
An arrest warrant obtained by ABC23 includes interviews with the suspects conducted on the day of the accident and several months later.
Both suspects, Roger Guzman of Lake Elsinore and Thomas Kirby of Los Angeles deny any involvement in the accident.
Despite eyewitness accounts that put Guzman's yellow and white ski boat in the area of the accident at the exact time it happened, and one person who claims to have seen their boat, WITH BOTH MEN IN IT, hit Dallen and leave the area, they still deny involvement.
The report claims the men stopped the boat about 80 yards from the accident site and were checking the engine, but somehow never heard about a dozen people screaming at them for help.
Could there have been another boat?
Possible, but unlikely. Actor Joe Pesci argued in the movie "My Cousin Vinny" that 2 similar looking cars were at the Sac of Suds at almost the same time, and that the one driven by his cousin was innocent.
However, according to eyewitnesses, there were no other ski boats in the vicinity, just a wave runner ridden by Dallen's father that was pulling Dallen's kneeboard and a pontoon boat which carried the one person who viewed the accident.
Through all the denials, a piece of evidence emerged that was irrefutable.
Guzman has a 2004 conviction for DUI. No denial here.
He was also on DUI probation, so if he WAS driving the boat, it's a felony.
During an interview at the marina, where he denied his boat was involved, he told the investigating deputy that he had about six beers before noon.
Game, set, match.
It took a year and numerous interviews to finally arrest Guzman and Kirby.
A painfully difficult time for the McEntire family, that won't get any easier any time soon.
Dallen's head injuries were so severe, Doctor's don't think they will know the full extent of the damage until he's in his 20's.
No denying that.
If Guzman had simply stopped the boat after the collision, he could have transported Dallen to the shore and gotten medical aid to him within 10 minutes. According to the arrest warrant, his father, Capt. Jeff McEntire with the Bakersfield City Fire Department, was busy keeping his son alive in the water, until the pontoon boat arrived to transport them to shore. It took almost 40 minutes.
There is no sympathy, no mistaken identity and absolutely no honor in the men's actions, especially if they have kids of their own.
I liken their behavior to that of a gang banger, who fires a gun into a crowd of people, then RUNS.
It's unclear what punishment the men will face, I only hope that justice will NOT be denied.
An arrest warrant obtained by ABC23 includes interviews with the suspects conducted on the day of the accident and several months later.
Both suspects, Roger Guzman of Lake Elsinore and Thomas Kirby of Los Angeles deny any involvement in the accident.
Despite eyewitness accounts that put Guzman's yellow and white ski boat in the area of the accident at the exact time it happened, and one person who claims to have seen their boat, WITH BOTH MEN IN IT, hit Dallen and leave the area, they still deny involvement.
The report claims the men stopped the boat about 80 yards from the accident site and were checking the engine, but somehow never heard about a dozen people screaming at them for help.
Could there have been another boat?
Possible, but unlikely. Actor Joe Pesci argued in the movie "My Cousin Vinny" that 2 similar looking cars were at the Sac of Suds at almost the same time, and that the one driven by his cousin was innocent.
However, according to eyewitnesses, there were no other ski boats in the vicinity, just a wave runner ridden by Dallen's father that was pulling Dallen's kneeboard and a pontoon boat which carried the one person who viewed the accident.
Through all the denials, a piece of evidence emerged that was irrefutable.
Guzman has a 2004 conviction for DUI. No denial here.
He was also on DUI probation, so if he WAS driving the boat, it's a felony.
During an interview at the marina, where he denied his boat was involved, he told the investigating deputy that he had about six beers before noon.
Game, set, match.
It took a year and numerous interviews to finally arrest Guzman and Kirby.
A painfully difficult time for the McEntire family, that won't get any easier any time soon.
Dallen's head injuries were so severe, Doctor's don't think they will know the full extent of the damage until he's in his 20's.
No denying that.
If Guzman had simply stopped the boat after the collision, he could have transported Dallen to the shore and gotten medical aid to him within 10 minutes. According to the arrest warrant, his father, Capt. Jeff McEntire with the Bakersfield City Fire Department, was busy keeping his son alive in the water, until the pontoon boat arrived to transport them to shore. It took almost 40 minutes.
There is no sympathy, no mistaken identity and absolutely no honor in the men's actions, especially if they have kids of their own.
I liken their behavior to that of a gang banger, who fires a gun into a crowd of people, then RUNS.
It's unclear what punishment the men will face, I only hope that justice will NOT be denied.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Roads to Nowhere
After watching several hours of Monday night's joint City-County Task Force, discussing the future of Kern County roadways, one thought keeps racing through my head.
Despair.
Two groups with two different ideas for growth, with the only similarity being the belief that something needs to be done.
I moved here 16 years ago and have become quite adept at navigating Bakersfield traffic jams.
My schedule allows me to bypass the congestion at rush hour, but I've still managed to time my route to hit as many green lights as possible, as long as other commuters either tuck into my draft or get out of the way.
Still, I'm waiting with great eagerness for the Westside Parkway to open.
A multi-lane roadway taking me from Stockdale Highway and Heath Road, all the way into downtown Bakersfield.
It's a dream for me still, just a dream.
After listening to last night's meeting, I may as well keep on sleeping.
There's no doubt that the projects are facing serious financial shortcomings and I've heard several ideas about how to fix them.
None appear to be any final conclusion, so I would say what my father use to say to me.
Just get it done.
Not get 'er done.
Just get it done.
Whether it's a half-cent sales tax or some other creative bit of money management, get it done.
Stop harking back to past planning mistakes, how Highway 58 dead ends into Real Road, no one cares.
If I have to pay for the sins of my forefathers in the roads department, so be it.
Just get it done.
Hopefully, before my 2-year old graduates High School.
Despair.
Two groups with two different ideas for growth, with the only similarity being the belief that something needs to be done.
I moved here 16 years ago and have become quite adept at navigating Bakersfield traffic jams.
My schedule allows me to bypass the congestion at rush hour, but I've still managed to time my route to hit as many green lights as possible, as long as other commuters either tuck into my draft or get out of the way.
Still, I'm waiting with great eagerness for the Westside Parkway to open.
A multi-lane roadway taking me from Stockdale Highway and Heath Road, all the way into downtown Bakersfield.
It's a dream for me still, just a dream.
After listening to last night's meeting, I may as well keep on sleeping.
There's no doubt that the projects are facing serious financial shortcomings and I've heard several ideas about how to fix them.
None appear to be any final conclusion, so I would say what my father use to say to me.
Just get it done.
Not get 'er done.
Just get it done.
Whether it's a half-cent sales tax or some other creative bit of money management, get it done.
Stop harking back to past planning mistakes, how Highway 58 dead ends into Real Road, no one cares.
If I have to pay for the sins of my forefathers in the roads department, so be it.
Just get it done.
Hopefully, before my 2-year old graduates High School.
Monday, August 20, 2007
First Day Misconception
To: Mrs. Carnal
From: Mike Hart
IE: First Misconception
Today was the first day of school for my 9-year old son Michael III.
He's now a 4th grader at Rio Bravo Greeley, which moves him into the big school.
The elementary school is K-3, so today was a big day for him.
Over the weekend, we headed over to the school to check out the teacher assignment list and he noticed he was in Mrs. Carnal's class.
He sighed.
I asked what was wrong, and he said he heard Mrs. Carnal was strict.
He 'heard'?
Was there a reconnaissance mission that I hadn't heard about?
Where was he getting his intell?
I pressed forward and he explained that some of his friends told him that Mrs. Carnal was strict.
I proceeded to inform him, that it was a 'good' thing and strict doesn't necessarily mean stringent.
Quoting an old movie line, "Discipline is not the enemy of enthusiasm."
More than seven hours later, my son is in 'love' with his teacher and his classroom.
The description of what today was like, and everything he has to look forward to this year, was like listening to a novel being read by a speed talker in 30 seconds.
In between gasps of air, as he explained some of the finer points of what life will be like in Mrs. Carnal's class, I managed to squeeze in a few questions.
While he didn't have all the answers today, I expect an update by the end of the week, including a definition of the word 'strict'.
Thanks Mrs. Carnal and good luck.
From: Mike Hart
IE: First Misconception
Today was the first day of school for my 9-year old son Michael III.
He's now a 4th grader at Rio Bravo Greeley, which moves him into the big school.
The elementary school is K-3, so today was a big day for him.
Over the weekend, we headed over to the school to check out the teacher assignment list and he noticed he was in Mrs. Carnal's class.
He sighed.
I asked what was wrong, and he said he heard Mrs. Carnal was strict.
He 'heard'?
Was there a reconnaissance mission that I hadn't heard about?
Where was he getting his intell?
I pressed forward and he explained that some of his friends told him that Mrs. Carnal was strict.
I proceeded to inform him, that it was a 'good' thing and strict doesn't necessarily mean stringent.
Quoting an old movie line, "Discipline is not the enemy of enthusiasm."
More than seven hours later, my son is in 'love' with his teacher and his classroom.
The description of what today was like, and everything he has to look forward to this year, was like listening to a novel being read by a speed talker in 30 seconds.
In between gasps of air, as he explained some of the finer points of what life will be like in Mrs. Carnal's class, I managed to squeeze in a few questions.
While he didn't have all the answers today, I expect an update by the end of the week, including a definition of the word 'strict'.
Thanks Mrs. Carnal and good luck.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Living Large in the Valley
The San Joaquin Valley is home to poor, fat, uneducated and crime riddled people.
Did you know that?
A new study from the good folks at the California Center for Regional Leadership in San Francisco found that the valley ranks last in a state survey of 14 regions when it comes to income, fuel consumption, post-high school degrees, obesity rates, violent crime and property crime.
Anyone surprised?
Oh yea, don't forget bad marks for asthma rates and air pollution.
Alright, I'm through, for now.
First, the poverty shouldn't surprise anyone, so toss that out along with the income.
Post-high school degrees, well the main industry is Ag and Oil, so forget that.
Violent and property crimes is bad no matter where or how often it occurs so, adios amigos.
NOW, as for obesity, fuel, asthma and pollution.
I'm not one to point fingers especially when my own mid-section needs a little work, but this is something we can definitely improve.
We can do without 1 or 2 UltraMegaSuperSize drinks a day, and the combo meal which does nothing but combine stretched fabric tightly across our skin.
Fuel consumption; gives us the money to finally build an adequate system of roadways around the valley.
As for the air, hey, San Francisco, part of the problem is YOU!!
Marine air, ever heard of it, sweeps in through the bay, and straight down the valley, pushing all the nasty air to the base of the grapevine.
It sits there, forever.
Do something about your own pollution control and help us out.
Oh that's right, last time a measure came up to strengthen vehicle emissions for cars in the bay area it was shot down by the voters.
Thanks for the help.
NOW for the good news.
According to the survey, the valley has less traffic congestion (haha), lower housing costs (about 5 years ago) and the median household income is the 3rd fastest growing in the state.
As for that last one, it's only the 3rd fastest based on home sales from lending institutions who gave over-inflated income marks so people could buy homes they couldn't afford and are now defaulting on.
I have a feeling the 3rd fastest thing will disappear by the end of the year.
Do me a favor, next time you want to help us, really *do* something to help us.
Another survey does nothing but waste time, and my blog space.
Did you know that?
A new study from the good folks at the California Center for Regional Leadership in San Francisco found that the valley ranks last in a state survey of 14 regions when it comes to income, fuel consumption, post-high school degrees, obesity rates, violent crime and property crime.
Anyone surprised?
Oh yea, don't forget bad marks for asthma rates and air pollution.
Alright, I'm through, for now.
First, the poverty shouldn't surprise anyone, so toss that out along with the income.
Post-high school degrees, well the main industry is Ag and Oil, so forget that.
Violent and property crimes is bad no matter where or how often it occurs so, adios amigos.
NOW, as for obesity, fuel, asthma and pollution.
I'm not one to point fingers especially when my own mid-section needs a little work, but this is something we can definitely improve.
We can do without 1 or 2 UltraMegaSuperSize drinks a day, and the combo meal which does nothing but combine stretched fabric tightly across our skin.
Fuel consumption; gives us the money to finally build an adequate system of roadways around the valley.
As for the air, hey, San Francisco, part of the problem is YOU!!
Marine air, ever heard of it, sweeps in through the bay, and straight down the valley, pushing all the nasty air to the base of the grapevine.
It sits there, forever.
Do something about your own pollution control and help us out.
Oh that's right, last time a measure came up to strengthen vehicle emissions for cars in the bay area it was shot down by the voters.
Thanks for the help.
NOW for the good news.
According to the survey, the valley has less traffic congestion (haha), lower housing costs (about 5 years ago) and the median household income is the 3rd fastest growing in the state.
As for that last one, it's only the 3rd fastest based on home sales from lending institutions who gave over-inflated income marks so people could buy homes they couldn't afford and are now defaulting on.
I have a feeling the 3rd fastest thing will disappear by the end of the year.
Do me a favor, next time you want to help us, really *do* something to help us.
Another survey does nothing but waste time, and my blog space.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Marketplace Madness
Is it just me, or is anyone else tired of the perception that people are terrified of teenagers walking in groups (or packs) around public venues?
Don't we, the rest of the community, outnumber the kids?
Or perhaps is it the fear in the back of your mind, that should a group of kids begin to harrass or attack someone in plain view of others, that noone will come to your aid.
When did we as a community retreat into a hole and let teenage kids rule the earth, or at least the Marketplace?
The shooting at Valley Plaza mall a couple holidays ago was shocking, not to mention a very rare occurance.
But did it stop people from going to the mall?
Maybe, but the recent addition of outlets like "Lucky" jeans should have people flocking back to the facility.
The recent BPD crackdown against teens hanging out and causing problems at the Marketplace was great.
Not because I feel safer, but simply from the standpoint that if you don't crack the whip a couple times, you don't send a message.
Several dozen arrests does a lot more than a time out.
For the owners of the Marketplace, you already have security guards so add a few more.
Then, perhaps some brighter lights in the evening hours.
And business owners, feel empowered to say something more often to out-of-control teens.
Unfortunately, the trouble makers who hang out at the Marketplace to smoke, drink, vandalize and stay out past curfew will continue to do so, but some simple behavior modification can at least let them know people are aware and prepared to do something about it.
Don't we, the rest of the community, outnumber the kids?
Or perhaps is it the fear in the back of your mind, that should a group of kids begin to harrass or attack someone in plain view of others, that noone will come to your aid.
When did we as a community retreat into a hole and let teenage kids rule the earth, or at least the Marketplace?
The shooting at Valley Plaza mall a couple holidays ago was shocking, not to mention a very rare occurance.
But did it stop people from going to the mall?
Maybe, but the recent addition of outlets like "Lucky" jeans should have people flocking back to the facility.
The recent BPD crackdown against teens hanging out and causing problems at the Marketplace was great.
Not because I feel safer, but simply from the standpoint that if you don't crack the whip a couple times, you don't send a message.
Several dozen arrests does a lot more than a time out.
For the owners of the Marketplace, you already have security guards so add a few more.
Then, perhaps some brighter lights in the evening hours.
And business owners, feel empowered to say something more often to out-of-control teens.
Unfortunately, the trouble makers who hang out at the Marketplace to smoke, drink, vandalize and stay out past curfew will continue to do so, but some simple behavior modification can at least let them know people are aware and prepared to do something about it.
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