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A SHOT OF REBECCA WEST

My buddy over at Snugg Harbor has an interesting post re the Schaivo dilemma and it got me to thinking of one of the best writers to ever live and what she had to say about such unsolvable conundrums.

Rebecca West once wrote, in Black Lamb and Grey Falcon:

Only part of us is sane; only part of us loves pleasure and the longer day of happiness, wants to live to our nineties and die in peace, in a house that we built, that shall shelter those who come after us. The other half of us is nearly mad... and wants to die in a catastrophe that will set back life to its beginnings and leave nothing of our house save its blackened foundations. Our bright natures fight in us with this yeasty darkness, and neither part is commonly quite victorious, for we are divided against ourselves and will not let either part be destroyed.


Damn, I love that woman's prose. She was a hottie too.

Bob

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A GIFT FOR ERIC

Our friend Eric of Straight White Guy fame is something of a budding Tom Waits fan, and knowing my peculiar passion for the fellow (I actually named my bailbond company Raindog Surety after a tune the guy wrote years ago.... I know, I know. It's a sickness.) he asked for more of the man's stuff.

Actually, this was something of an adventure because I have not ever tried to upload any mp3 files onto the web and the thing links oddly. Here's a first try of uploading a gift for Eric... a piece that he did with Dan Hicks a few years ago called I'll Tell you Why That Is.

Anyhow, I've been fiddling with this until I'm pissed off at it. I put this plus a live recording of The Heart of Saturday Night, which is one of my all time favorites, up on my website but I can't seem to link it through from this thing. Anyhow, if you want the thing Eric then go to this page and enjoy. The tunes are at the bottom of the page.

I'll keep fiddling with it tomorrow. Maybe I'm just too brain dead to make it work tonight. I'm Schiavoed at the moment.

OK... try this: I'll Tell You Why That Is

Damn, I'm good! Good night Eric.

Bob

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ENDGAME

Well, the end is in sight. I suppose that this is another one of those sorry examples of reaping what we sow in this eternal culture war. The pundits have all rung in... everybody says that it's a shame. The courts are acting courtly and standing on principle, the governor is saying that he has done everything that is constitutional for his office to do, there isn't a tavern left in America that hasn't fielded a discussion of the issue by the real losers of this pitiful wrangling.

The bottom line is this -- I wouldn't treat a dog like they have treated that Schaivo woman. Starved to death? Death by dehydration? What the...

Remember that old Doors song? This is the end. The only end, my friend.

The article in the Sentinel this morning says that it should be over in court by noon. If she lives that long.

Like I said: I wouldn't treat a dog this way.

See you in church this Easter Sunday. Oh, sorry... going to the funeral?

Bob

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MORE ON SCHIAVO

If youhaven't already done so, go read what that Blue Eyed Babe had to say today.


Bob

I knew I liked that girl for some reason.

~
LIVING WILL/LIVING WON'T

Katie and Stan and I went over to the boat and got things all set up for the move to The Anchorage yesterday, then went and had a late late lunch at The Dixie Crossroads in Titusville. They were out of mullet so I didn't get to eat what I usually have there, but I loaded up on rock shrimp and then waddled out to head back to dry ground. The task of getting the mast down onto the deck was less of a struggle than I thought it would be. Zoom zoom.

After getting in I went out to Otters to see Elaine. For some reason, everyone in the bar was arguing about that Schaivo (sp?) woman. Now, normally this crowd is up to their elbows in fishing, and sailing, and the best way to mix Mexican peyote into your daily routine, but they managed to get off on the "Should they or Shouldn't they" argument.

Bob, you're a smart guy (fools! Little do they know.) Whatcha think? Well, my understanding is that the husband has a girlfriend and wants the money that the lady has in her insurance when she dies... and I also understand that her parents are willing to assume custody of the woman even if that lizard husband won't (so much for "better or worse" eh?). Also, I remain unconvinced with the notion of "vegetative state". What is that? Dead? Well, no... it's just that her quality of life is diminished. Well, that's a shame, but damn. They don't call it the practice of medicine for nothing. Let the damned doctors practice and maybe they can save the woman's life. They will never get better if they don't practice.

So you're for keeping her alive? Well, yeah. Vegetative is not the same thing as dead. Dead means that it is over. If there's the remote chance that something good might happen then they should try to help her out. And... I just got back from carrying my extremely pregnant daughter out boating and so I'm thinking a lot about the ole "Circle of Life" thing today.

What that Schaivo woman is is an inconvenience to a man who no longer wants her. That's a shame. But the real shame is that the State is willing to say that her life is worth less than the lousy husband she got stuck with. If the bastard wants off the hook then let him off the hook and move on. I wonder if his parents would fight as hard for him as his wife's parents have fought for her. I'll bet no.

As far as the law is concerned... the citizens of the State of Florida are big losers here. What that judge did was say that even if there was no "Living Will" spelling out the Schaivo woman's wishes we should go ahead and snuff her out. What that means is that the living will that I have is not really a serious document spelling out what I want to happen with me if (God forbid) I find myself in the same spot that the Schaivo gal is in. That judge is saying... hey, we don't need to take the written wishes or lack of same seriously. We're just gonna do what is convenient and to hell with the letter of the law.

That stinks.

Look, I had a little "mini stroke" about ten years ago. A real whack to the head. Things looked serious there for a while. Thank goodness, I got over it, and today I'm completely OK... but I learned the hard way that I need to take that hypertension medication. And I do. But... the affair was more than a little instructive for me concerning some of the "loved ones" around me. At the time I was living with a woman who wanted very much to make it permanent... that would make her "the beneficiary"... then I had this "hypertensive event" (lovely medical jargon)... and Glenda came and took my watch off my arm. She wanted to "make sure" that my things were safe. Yeah, right. Two weeks later, I was back on my feet, a little shakey but back on my feet, and I had to go and ask for my watch back. A nice classic Rolex Oyster worth around $5K that I've had since I graduated from college back before indoor plumbing. The lady had stolen my watch because she figured that it was one sure way to get a couple of grand out of my estate. Hey, I was in some sort of "vegetative state" or some shit like that, right? She was so sure that I was dying that she was in there stripping off my jewelry before the morticians could get into the hospital room.

So you tell me... should we just starve that Schaivo woman to death? Hell, I'll go buy the gal a Big Mac and supersize her fries any time. Shame on that judge. And that husband of Ms. Schaivo... he needs to be put into a vegetative state of his own for a while.

Damn.

Elaine said that maybe I'm losing my sense of humor. Heck, I've read the entire Divine Comedy from cover to cover. Hell, I was there when the bitch took my watch and almost had to go fight to get it back.

Bob

~
WELL...

No Matthew yet. Inquiring minds want to know.

In the meanwhile, we had a kid try to off himself yesterday and that caused a major explosion of fecal matter. Apparently the kid came in saying he was gonna do the deed and they guys in the back didn't put him on active watch. That's SOP. The kid asked to use the john and the guys just said sure and let him go in by himself. Fifteen minutes later somebody asked, where's that kid? And sure enough, he had managed to strangle himself with one of his own socks.

Well, crap. I don't see how a sock could shut off the air. Maybe I don't wear the right socks. Anyhow, things were less than joyful around the work site today. Maybe tomorrow I'll wear sandals.

Bob

~
MATTHEW

Kathryn went and got her last sonogram this afternoon and took the proud grandpa along for moral support. Everything's normal, hands feet toes etc etc. Seven pounds 2 ounces. The doctor said that this is larger than 75% of babies... then when he saw Kathryn's smile he said... but smaller than 25%. Due date is still set at April 2. My friend Amanda said that she thought that the kidlet would come sooner than that. Maybe not. The doctor said that if Katie carries him to full term that Matthew (how's that one sound? Biblical?) would gain about another pound.

Thank goodness for a fairly normal kid. His grandfather was 13 lbs. 6 oz. Giant kid. Needless to say, I'm an only child. My father always said that my mother swore off sex after having me. Of course, that was back in the old days when you had the kid then took it in to the doctor to see if there were any problems.

I love the new machinery. The 3-D sonogram tool is flat amazing. It's like photography. I'll try to scan the best of the prints and see if they will come out digitally. I know, I know. Just what you need, eh? They are neat though.

I'll say one thing for sure... the kid is definitely a relative. I watched him play with his dingus for about five minutes. I swear it looked like he had a boner (Kathryn will have a fit when she reads this). And I mean... he definitely takes after his granddaddy. We both have something that scares most white women. The boy is coming out of the chute with a bonus round in his favor.

Bob

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UCF LOSS

For those of you who are part of the UCF family, I learned this morning that Dr. Cheryl Hiatt was killed last night in a car accident. I don't have any details yet.

Dr. Hiatt was a good friend, and has touched a lot of lives over the years.

Damn.

Bob

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SPRING!

The rest of the country may be floundering in the depths of winter, but here in the balmy south it is baseball season... at long last.

I've got tickets for a Yankees game out at Disney next Tuesday and tickets for a Braves/Nationals on the 16th.

Ah, spring!

Also, my lovely daughter called me this afternoon and wants he to come babysit her when she goes to get her "good" sonogram on the 15th. This is the one where you can actualy see things.

Ah, spring!

Bob

~
GOOD MORNING

As some of you might know, my daughter is extremely pregnant. I mean... I mean.... she's gonna have a kidlet next month... or maybe in the next hour. My friend Amanda doesn't think that Katie is gonna make it all the way to April 2 (the supposed calculated date from the first sonogram). Amanda (a self proclaimed expert in childbirthery) thinks it will be this afternoon. I mean... she's really preggers.

Anyhow, I got a scare this morning when my pager went off. That in itself isn't particularly unusual. I've got a job that calls me in at all kinds of ungodly hours... but when I looked at the pager my heart skipped a beat because I was looking at Katie's number. Oh, boy I thought. Here we go.

But when I called and woke everybody up over at their house it turns out that she hadn't paged me at all. So I woke her up from a sound sleep just to have her laugh at her old man getting the pre-kidlet jitters.

Damned pager. I suppose that it had a case of the vapors. Now I'm the idiot who is worried about his kid's kid. Duh! I'm supposed to be too cool for this kind of crap. Amanda just told me the other day that I should be checking in with Katie every day so that she will know that I'm paying attention... but I really don't think that my kid buys into that kind of parental concern. She's more likely to tell me that I'm "Creeping her out".

Damned pager.

Well, the first of a long line of false alarms. Sigh.

Bob

~
THE BELLY OF THE BEAST

I just spent three hours over at JDC breaking in a new JPO. Showing her the ropes, if you will. My boss is of the school called "sink or swim". I'm not sure that I go for that. I kind of like to sneak up on them with this job. Besides, most of them are young and full of whatever it is that makes people want to go into this trade and I hate to scare them off right at the beginning.

This girl is probably gonna be OK. She was wearing her game face when she came in and I took her to lunch and gave her a civics lesson about the whole process. I'm convinced that they don't teach these kids anything at the university. At least, the graduates aren't going over their class notes much before they go out into the "real" world. Anyhow, she understood that making detention contact visits is one of those necessary things... at least she understood it before we got out of JDC.

I found two of the kids who needed to contact their folks. One of them had not seen either of his parents in 22 days. Had no idea where they were. Give me a phone number. He gave me a number in Mexico. Mexico? You Mexican? No, but my mother's boyfriend is and they may have left the country. Hmmm. Got anybody else? Grandma? Nope. Maybe a cousin in New York.

Could you just leave your kid in the can and drive away? The new JPO lady wanted to know. Well, it could be.

Then we got to a character who has been in lockdown for three days and is weeping uncontrollably. Talk to me. Huh? Talk to me. Tell my Mom to get my medication. Turns out the kid is on some kind of heart transplant blood thinner and if he zigs instead of saggs just right he will pop a hole in his main pump. Jeez. Call a doc, OK? Could you leave your kid in jail if you knew that he has a bad heart? And not bother to tell the poor folks in the detention center? Happens all the time Ma'am.

Yeah... we had an interesting afternoon on my new worker's first day on the job.

What a life.

Bob