The Bosque

Today's Manifesto is based on this article in today's St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

25 years ago today (and last night), St. Louis was hit by a strong snowstorm. 14 inches doesn't sound like a lot, given that I've lived through bigger storms in DC and Philadelphia. But it was the biggest storm the city had seen in 70 years, and it basically shut the city down for a week.

And when you're 6 years old, it's beyond belief. One of the only memories I have from that storm is my mom and I trying to walk to school. At the time, she was a homemaker and used to walk me to school every morning. She was also about a month pregnant, but didn't yet know it. As we walked outside our apartment door, a huge pile of snow fell on top of us, practically burying us. That was cool.

And we're supposed to get snow tonight, though only an inch or two. Still...it's kinda cool that the snow is supposed to fall on this particular day.

It's a pretty chilly day in Sycamoreland...currently it's 14 degrees outside. I love this weather...so long as the wind isn't strong.

Anyway...today's topic...from Yahoo!/Reuters: The United States is set to overtake France in the next five years as the world's largest wine market, according to an annual study published on Tuesday.

The study, commissioned by the organizers of the VinExpo trade fair in Bordeaux in June, forecast global wine consumption in that time would grow five percent but the market value would increase nine percent to $117 billion from $107 billion in 2005.

"The world is drinking more and better, more expensive wines," VinExpo Secretary General Robert Beynat told a news conference.

The study predicted U.S. still wine consumption would rise to 27.3 million hectoliters in 2010 from 23.0 million in 2005, exceeding French consumption, which is set to fall to 24.9 million hl from 27.4 million hl.

The French are probably about to riot.

I've become more of a wine drinker in the past 5 or 6 years, but particularly in the past 2 years. April and I are total winos...but we're not wine snobs. Here's an example of our schtick at a winery:

Winemaker: "This one has fruity notes of apricot and pear with a hint of cinnamon."

T: "This isn't very sweet...it tastes like shit."

A: "Yeah...you have something sweeter?"

...to a statement from Tim from Wednesday's Manifesto: I haven't heard the Ownby family recieving any gifts of this level.

From Yahoo!/AP: Shawn Hornbeck has a new Web site and is getting a new home. Mitchell Hults was given a truck, a $5,000 scholarship and free tickets to see his favorite comedian.

When asked what kind of big gifts have been given to 13-year-old Ben Ownby, his uncle laughed.

"Um, nothing," Loyd Bailie said. "Lots of people calling."

That's just fine with Ben's parents, Don and Doris Ownby. For four days after their son was abducted Jan. 8, they tried to remain hopeful even as the chances of finding Ben alive grew thin.

I dunno...though I was fairly conscientious at 13, I think I'd probably feel a little slighted about not getting any cool stuff. I applaud his family for trying to keep him level-headed though.

From MSNBC: Wanted: Idealistic teachers looking for a Peace Corps-style adventure in a city in distress.

Some of New Orleans’ most desperate, run-down schools are beset with a severe shortage of teachers, and they are struggling mightily to attract candidates by appealing to their sense of adventure and desire to make a difference. Education officials are even offering to help new teachers find housing.

It'd be like being a pioneer, but with indoor plumbing and electricity. And April loves New Orleans...it's her favorite city after St. Louis.

This sort of thing calls me...I don't know if I'd be any good at it, but I'd be willing to give it a shot. Of course, I could do something like that here...if our city's school system wasn't so fucked up.

Tim's in charge today

Courtesy of myfoxstl.com:

A St. Louis company is doing something very special for Shawn Hornbeck and his family, and it could benefit the future families of children who go missing. There are plans to build a new home for the Hornbeck family

What the fuck? I'm seriously tired of hearing about this. This is indeed a miricle, i'm glad that after 4 yrs Shawn Hornbeck is back with his family. But now were getting fucking ridiculous. Because he was gone for 4 yrs and was too fucking stupid to contact his parents and conseal his identity with the freedom he had? So yes, lets build his family a house.

Oh yea, the kid who gave the description of the white Nissan truck, his family recieved a new dodge ram quad cab from the chrystler plant.

Sorry, this is getting a little out of hand. I haven't heard the Ownby family recieving any gifts of this level. This is getting retarted.

I decided to work a double yesterday...we could use the extra money, and I didn't have study team last night.

About 9pm last night, I had to take a delivery to the 3200 block of Delor Street, which is not too far from the store. When I was a child, it was a pretty nice area...it is now a nothing short of a hood. The robbery that occurred last week happened in the 3200 block of Liberty Street, which is the next street north of Delor.

This block of Delor is all apartment buildings and 2-family flats. And there are a lot of trees on the street, which partially block out the streetlights. You can understand why I would be cautious going there. I'm always cautious on that street. Quite frankly, it's probably one of the most dangerous blocks in our regular delivery area, if not the most dangerous.

The customer that ordered is a semi-regular, but given the recent robbery, I was extra cautious. I got up to the door, and the customer asked if I had change for a $100 bill.

Right away, the red flag went up. Usually, the customer tells us they need change for that big of a bill when they order. And I never carry more than $20 on me. I told her that I had the change and decided to go to my car to get it.

I could have refused, but at that point, I felt fairly comfortable in my surroundings. So I ran back up, gave her change and hustled back to my car.

I love delivering, but I'd like to be out of that store come summer. I grew up in the area where we deliver, and it will always be home. But parts of the area are just so bad now. And our owners only really care about one thing in the end: $$$. According to Tim, they used to be a lot better until they acquired their 3rd location.

For the record, Godflesh's "Slavestate" and Rammstein's "Herzeleid" are great CDs to listen to when driving through rough areas.

Wolf's in charge today

My undying and faithful love for the Chicago Bears is no secret around here.

We're going to the SuperBowl, baby!!

In a moment of NFL history, too ... Lovie Smith is the first African American Head Coach to make it to The Big Game. I think a bigger deal will be made of this than should be ... he's a great coach, doesn't matter if he's black, white, or anything else. His love and understanding of the game is what got him there, and his well-handled team.

It would have been nice to see the New Orleans Saints do a phoenix from the ashes performance, but they were outplayed something fierce in the Bears 39-14 trouncing of the Saints today.

So, do you think that they'll re-record the SuperBowl Shuffle?

Wolf's in charge today.

Man shoots friend in argument over height of late soul singer James Brown

ATMORE, Ala. (AP) - A man shot a friend when the two got into an argument over James Brown's height, police said.

Dan Gulley Jr. was charged with assault in the shooting of David James Brooks Jr., police said. Officers said the men were at a friend's home on Monday when, according to witnesses, the argument over the height of the late "Godfather of Soul" escalated, with Gulley, 70, shooting Brooks, 62, twice in the abdomen.

Brooks went to his car, got a gun and shot at Gulley but missed, then went to the police station, officers said.

Gulley also went to the station and told police he had shot Brooks. He remained in the Escambia County Jail on Wednesday.

Brooks was taken to a hospital, but information on his condition was not available.

The Mobile, Ala., Press-Register newspaper said officers did not believe alcohol was a factor in the argument.

Brown, who was known to wear lifts, died of heart failure Dec. 25 at age 73. Accounts of his height vary.

April and I haven't had the best run of luck recently...that might be changing, though.

Normally on Mondays, I work 10:30a-5p. But the other driver and I switch on occasion...he normally works 11a-2p. This past Monday was one of those days...my ankle was bothering me, and so the other driver volunteered to switch with me. It was a slow day, probably due to the MLK holiday, and I left about 12:30.

He wound up being robbed at 4:30, at gunpoint, in a rough neighborhood near the store. I won't know the exact events until I see this driver tomorrow, but apparently, someone came out a gangway and surprised him with a shotgun. And this driver likes to embellish things, so the story should be interesting to hear. :)

I've been thinking about getting a pistol for a while now. CCW permits are not yet available in St. Louis City, but I can get a non-resident one from Florida for $100, and it will be good here in MO. And you can carry a concealed firearm in a car in MO without a permit. We'll see. Given that I'll probably be schlepping pizzas for 6 more months, it might be worth it to get one.

From the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists:

IT IS 5 MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT
2007
The world stands at the brink of a second nuclear age. The United States and Russia remain ready to stage a nuclear attack within minutes, North Korea conducts a nuclear test, and many in the international community worry that Iran plans to acquire the Bomb. Climate change also presents a dire challenge to humanity. Damage to ecosystems is already taking place; flooding, destructive storms, increased drought, and polar ice melt are causing loss of life and property.

In reading the timeline, they've been pretty good about recording the current state of the world when they move the hand of the clock.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would beguaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on th is promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

--Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., August 28, 1963, Washington, DC

Wolf's in charge today.

Just in case the palatial sycamore estate is in one of the parts of Saint Louis without power as a consequence of ice storms.

we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won and the stinkin' eagles lost we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won

This is such big news that this AP story appeared on the front page of Sunday morning's Sydney Morning Herald: A 13-year-old boy who vanished from the gravel road near his home five days ago was found alive about 100 kilometres away in a suburban St Louis house, along with a 15-year-old boy missing since 2002, US authorities said.

The boys were found in a home belonging to Michael Devlin, 41, who has been charged with one count of first-degree kidnapping, Sheriff Gary Toelke said.

I don't think I really need to comment on this...the story speaks for itself.

I was listening to the BBC World Service last night, when a reporter asked a correspondent who covered the President's address how much the US has spent on the war in Iraq. Before the correspondent answered, I guessed $150 billion.

Apparently, the government officially says $250 billion. An anti-war group estimates the cost at $378 billion.

$250 billion...do you know what the fuck we could have done with that kind of money?! Of course, it was all borrowed, so it's not like we really had it to begin with. But if we were willing to spend $250 billion on shit, I think we could have spent it in far better ways that toppling Saddam Hussein and rebuilding Iraq.

Perhaps the feds should take the project management class I'm currently in...they could learn a lot from it.

Cable finally arrived at the Palatial Estate this morning.

I fucking hate Charter (the company that handles cable for most of the St. Louis area), but unfortunately, we can't attach a dish to our apartment building, and there was no other way to make it work. And I'm a TV whore, so...cable.

So, what did I proceed to watch as soon as it was installed?

"Judge Mathis," on our local ABC affiliate.

I haven't had a good run of luck recently between breaking my ankle and suffering through an intestinal virus. April's luck hasn't been much better.

Last weekend, April was taking the trash out at her mom's house, when she missed a step. She stepped down too far, and in the process, she twisted her ankle and landed on the top of her right foot. After limping around on it for a few days, she got an x-ray taken at work.

The x-ray revealed a hairline fracture of the talus bone--the same fracture that I was initially thought to have. After trying crutches for a day, she's now in a walking cast and using a cane for the next couple of weeks. She's doing better, though still in pain...and trying to do too much like a big dummy.

That reminds me of someone I know who suffered a fracture not too long ago. :)

I have been on the shitter so many times in the past 2 days that it's not even funny. I can't remember how many near accidents I've had before making it to the bathroom. And once I'm in the bathroom, I'm in there for a good 15-30 minutes...I shit you not. (Ha!)

At least I'm not in a great deal of pain any more, and I can eat, though I don't feel like eating anything. That could be a good thing, actually.

With my aunt breaking her leg in May, Brenda's cancer surgery in October, April getting severely ill in October/November, my broken ankle last month, Rhoda dying last month, April breaking her ankle this week (more on that later), and now this, I've had enough injury and illness to last me a lifetime.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to powder my nose...

At least, that's how I feel about it right now.

Apparently, something I ate Tuesday made me violently ill. I started getting sick late Tuesday night and only started feeling better late last night.

I can honestly say that I have never felt so sick in my life: constant diarrhea, projectile vomit, severe body aches, chills, body twitching. It was awful.

I feel okay today...the headache is finally going away, but my body still hurts and I don't have a voice. I'll take it, though, given the past 2 days.

The last green candle represents imani. All candles in the kinara are now lit.



Imani (faith): Believe in the peeps...we will win the war in the end.

Now Whitey should be scared. :)