Voenix Rising

From The Munchkin Wrangler:

Look, if you believe in God, that’s a-ok with me, and the way in which you choose to believe doesn’t concern me in the least, unless you try and make your faith the law of the land for others, too. If your faith gives you comfort, and it helps you in your efforts to become the best possible version of yourself, then I have no issue with that. Some of you just need to remember on occasion that your neighbor is just as deeply attached to his faith as you are to yours, and that your chance to convert him is about as good as his chance to convert you. Religion is an intensely private matter, and if you want to enjoy your religious freedom, you have to grant it to others as well, regardless of how much you disagree with their theology, or how much you’d like to see them saved. In the end, if you believe there’s a judgment due, let God make it, and don’t assume that the Creator and Mover of the Universe needs your help.

I’ve never seen my own beliefs so eloquently put into words. Bravo!

Paul turned down my dinner invite. It wasn’t because he thought I was icky or anything; it was because he’s already happily coupled.

Oh well.  At least I asked…

…in the gun locker furiously polishing his weapon.

(Click to embiggen.)

…considering where I’m at in my life right now.

Stolen from My 2 Cents:

Just another example of the stupidity that pervades life in San Francisco—and one more reminder of why I will never live there again.

What a great incentive to get people to recycle: fine them $100 if their bins are visible from the street after being emptied. I wonder what bonehead jerkoff came up with this law? Oh wait—the Board of Supervisors did. Nevermind. That explains everything.

From SFGate:

San Francisco residents, already facing some of the highest housing prices and parking fines in the nation, now have a new nightmare to watch out for - $100 tickets if their garbage or recycling cans can be seen from the street.

“It just blew me away,” said Richmond District resident Catherine Fox, one of 189 people who have been dinged since the city started handing out the tickets last month.

Diana Tsoi lives on the same street as Fox and got hit with a $100 fine around the same time as her neighbor.

“It’s just ridiculous,” Tsoi said. “Some people don’t have anywhere else to put these big cans but along the side of their house.”

Too bad, because under a law passed two years ago by the Board of Supervisors, it’s no longer good enough just to get your cans off the sidewalk once they’ve been emptied—you have to get them out of sight as well.

Completely out of sight.

Not an easy task, considering every home now gets three 32-gallon cans, each of which measures about 19 by 24 by 38 inches.

“I had mine tucked into the side of the house 20 feet back from the curb,” Fox said.

Not good enough.

If someone complains, the city sends out the garbage cops, and if the bins are in sight, you’re cited. The ticket shows up in the mail.

The supes passed the out-of-sight-or-else ordinance as an add-on to the existing law that requires cans to be off the sidewalk by 6 p.m. on pickup days.

Things were quiet for the first year, with the Department of Public Works sending out “educational” warnings instead of tickets.

At one point, believe it or not, there was a self-appointed can cop driving around neighborhoods on a motorcycle, snapping pictures of offending bins and turning in people.

Starting in March, the real tickets started going out.

“I don’t remember any warning, and I’m pretty alert,” Fox said.

Both she and her neighbor Tsoi said they plan to fight the citations.

“I have a hearing date for later this month,” Fox said. “It’s the same day as my son’s 14th birthday.

“I thought I’d take him along as a civics lesson.”

Less than 24 hours after I told my friend Michael that because of steadily rising gas prices I probably wouldn’t be undertaking any more spontaneous road trips, yesterday morning I woke up and said, “I’m going to Tucson.” So much for my resolve in the face of having to shell out $45 to fill my tank the day before.

It had been a while since Anderson, Chris Isaak, and I spent some quality time together on the open asphalt, so I considered it justified. After completing my morning ablutions and running a few quick errands, I threw the camera into my backpack and headed south on Interstate 10.

I hadn’t told any of my buds that I was coming. Lately it seems that most of my friends there are so absorbed with their own lives, dramas and rituals that they can’t make time for me and my spur-of-the-moment visits, so I drove down with the idea that this was simply going to be a “me” day. Some lunch, a leisurely trip up Mt. Lemmon, maybe some record shopping, dinner, and then back home. It would be a nice way to spend the day.

The drive down was uneventful, other than discovering that in addition to sealing off all the major exits to Tucson (something I blogged about previously), the State of Arizona has now also decided to tear up the entire freeway between Picacho and Tucson—the only major route between Phoenix and The Old Pueblo—for a distance of approximately 50 miles. I mean seriously, folks…is there that much traffic between Tucson and the Picacho Dairy Queen that the freeway needs to be widened to 3 lanes in each direction? Or did you just receive a bunch of highway money that has to be spent to guarantee more waste funding next year?

Anyhow, as I was pulling into town, I decided to at least try contacting my friends. I had no success reaching either Bernie or Lee, but when I tried calling Floyd—not expecting him to answer either—I hit pay dirt. Would he and Ron like to meet for dinner? Yes? Great!

With that wrapped up, I headed over to Sachiko Sushi for lunch. While there, I tried calling Lee one more time and got his voice mail again. No problem. A run up the mountain by myself and dinner with Floyd and Ron would be just fine. Life was good.

A few minutes later my phone rang. It was Lee. “I couldn’t get to the phone,” he said. “The cat’s been messing with the wires.”

I asked if he wanted to go to Mt. Lemmon with me. He was at first hesitant, but then agreed. Climbing around in his attic to discover the source of an unpleasant odor could wait. Woohoo!

As we headed up the Catalina Highway, it was obvious that it probably wasn’t the best day to get any good pictures. Fires down south had filled normally pristine desert air with a light gray haze.

Anderson certainly loved all the twisties. Now I understand why other MINI owners seek them out on their drives.

It had been about thirteen years since I last visited Mt. Lemmon, and in that time many improvements had been made to the highway and the vista points. Windy Point—where, late one night in 1984 I made out with Bobby Long while police helicopters circled the air above Lee’s house after an impromptu afterhours party got out of hand—had the most notable changes. What used to be a little more than a dirt pullout and a poorly maintained trail to an overlook was now complete with restrooms and low guard walls to prevent hapless visitors from being creamed by vehicles careening down the narrow mountain road.

(Click for panorama.)

I used to know what this formation was called. Now it’s long forgotten…

“You’re not going to put this on your blog, are you?”

“Of course not!”

The Aspen Fire of 2003 devastated the Catalina Mountains, at one point threatening the multi-million dollar University of Arizona observatories and had all but burnt Summerhaven (the small town at the end of the road) to the ground. Lee and I were both curious—and apprehensive—to see how our beloved mountain had changed. At first we saw only a few burnt trees, but as we gained altitude, many areas started looking like moonscapes.

The area around the ski lift was pretty much intact, but as we pulled into Summerhaven, it was obvious the place had indeed been destroyed. While new construction of both homes and businesses was in full swing, the cool, green, pine-scented surroundings were now completely gone. The human presence in Summerhaven had returned, but we were saddened to realize the previous natural splendor we so enjoyed would not recover within our lifetimes.

After stopping for a beverages and patronizing a couple of the local shops, we drove back down the mountain in silence. I think I can sum it up best by saying there’s probably no real reason for either of us to ever make that drive again. And that is sad, because Mt. Lemmon had always been the cool green escape from the summer heat of our youth. R.I.P.

After returning to town and running a few errands with Lee, I met up with Floyd and Ron. I’ve known these guys for twenty-five years (I actually met Floyd the same night I met Lee), and while I don’t see them as often as I like, they still occupy a very special place in my heart. As Floyd said last night over dinner at Charlie’s, “Honey, we’re the few remaining survivors of our generation in Tucson.”

For some time now, Floyd, Ron, and our mutual friend Abe (whom I haven’t seen since I was in college) have been discussing creating a repository of our history, a sort of informal Tales of the City for Tucson. They asked me to contribute since I was so much a part of that whole collegiate “Jeckyll’s-Louie’s-Lower-Level” crowd, and I readily agreed.

It was certainly fun to reminisce over dinner last night. Shared stories were triggering memories of people and places long forgotten; of previously unknown dalliances and degrees of separation that caused me to laugh out loud. Getting older isn’t all that bad when you have good friends to travel that road with you.

(And a note to my younger readers…you never know who those people will end up being, so don’t dismiss folks out of hand when you first meet. Some of them may end up traveling life’s path with you in quite unexpected ways.)

It’s not over till it’s over, and Bush still has plenty of time to touch off World War III. And don’t you think for one minute he’s not contemplating it.

(Image from Proceed at Your Own Risk.)

Let me help you loosen that tie.

…that once you finally reach the point where you’re fully and completely comfortable in your own skin, your own skin starts falling apart.

From the Centredaily Times:

Gay and Lesbian Adults Are Reading and Responding to More Blogs Than Heterosexuals
New online study also shows gay and lesbian adults are more active within blog channels than heterosexuals and more receptive to blog advertising

WASHINGTON — According to a recent national survey conducted by Harris Interactive(R), gay and lesbian adults online are reading more blogs than their heterosexual counterparts. When asked, just over half (51 percent) of the gay and lesbian respondents reported reading some type of blog, compared to 36 percent of heterosexual adults. A similar question on blog readership also was asked in November 2006, and at that time 32 percent of gay and lesbian adults then reported reading blogs.

The new nationwide survey of 2,733 U.S. adults, (ages 18 and over), of whom more than 13 percent, or 362, self identified as gay or lesbian (which includes an oversample of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender adults), was conducted online between March 11 and 19, 2008, by Harris Interactive, a global market research and consulting firm, in conjunction with Witeck-Combs Communications, Inc., a strategic public relations and marketing communications firm with special expertise in the GLBT market.

Gay and lesbian adults are also more active in and connected to the blog medium. When asked to choose from a list of online activities, 27 percent of gay and lesbian adults reported posting a comment on a blog in the last month, compared to 13 percent of heterosexuals. Also, more than one out of five (21%) gay and lesbian respondents said they had written a personal blog in the last month, compared to 7 percent of heterosexuals.

Regarding the varied interests of blogs, the survey found 28 percent of gay and lesbian adults reported reading news and current issue blogs, compared to 19 percent of heterosexuals. More than a quarter (26%) of gay and lesbian adults also read entertainment and pop culture blogs, compared to 11 percent of heterosexuals. Given the heightened interest in this year’s electoral contests, a significant number, nearly one-quarter (23%), of gay and lesbian adults also read political blogs. In comparison, only 14 percent of heterosexual adults reported reading political blogs.

(More)

The Bible contains six admonishments to homosexuals and 362 admonishments to heterosexuals. That doesn’t mean that God doesn’t love heterosexuals. It’s just that they need more supervision.” — Lynn Lavner

Lots more here.

Liō
By Mark Tatulli