In Jail

So, 1 out of every 100 Americans are in jail. I thought that traffic seemed lighter than usual.

But seriously, folks, how can this be? We apparently have more people in jail by sheer numbers and by percentage than any other country in the world. Isn’t freedom wonderful?

And, regarding African-American males between 25 and 34, 1 out of every 9 is in prison. And I assume that means as of one point in time. What do you think the average sentence is? And what percentage of African American males will be in prison at some time between the ages of 25 and 34?

It is mind boggling.

And there are some more mind boggling things.

For one, do I know any of these people?

And two, what do they do when they get out, since no one wants to hire them, and no one wants to rent them an apartment? Etc., etc., etc.

Oh well, let the good times roll.

All in One Night (2 cents)

My sister and brother in law are staying with Edie and me, all in the same room. They need to catch an 11 a.m. plane. My brother in law tells me that he thought they could leave at 9:40. I told him that was much too late to make sure that they would get on the plane. I became convinced that I was not going to be able to sleep at all, because I knew that I would have to get up in the middle of the night when they left for the airport.

Gary Singer took a job in the building across the street from my office. It was a large glass building, bigger than the one across the street today. My office building was bigger, too. Gary’s windows could open; ours could not, and ours had reflecting glass, so that you could not see in from the outside. I saw Gary. He opened his window (he was a few floors above me), picked up a football and heaved it out of the window across the street. The football hit the window of my office before falling to the ground. I was amazed. I wanted to call Gary and congratulate him, but I had no idea how to reach him.

I got out of the subway. I had exited the subway car at Van Ness-UDC. I got to the street. I was in New York City. The sign read “40th to 90th Street” with an arrow pointing to the right. I had no idea how I would get home.

I was in a small town in Virginia. I called it Winchester, but it was much smaller than Winchester. I had to go to the library. I found it, and parked the car on a cul de sac, which was to the right of the library, with a grassy plot to the right of it. Several cars were parked there. When I exited the library, my car was gone. At first, I thought I forgot where I parked, but that was not possible. Then I saw some official signs on poles. They were too high for me to read, but the poles were flexible, so I could pull it down to my level. The sign said “No parking. Towing”. I went back in the library and asked what I should do. The librarian thought I was nuts.

My college friend David Waller’s brother (I have not see David for a hundred years and he did not have a brother) and a friend of his were pictured in the newspaper for some reason or other. They were both very, very fat.

I was at the HUD building, visiting the offices of GinnieMae. I finished my visit, and decided to take the elevator at the other end of the hallway. I walked into the hallway. There was a beautiful deep red oriental rug on the floor. Three men were cleaning it. They stared at me, as if I was about to walk through their flower garden. They told me they were cleaning the rugs. I felt threatened. I said “no problem, I can use the elevator at this side”.

I was in a public building that had a bank of computers for public use. I started fiddling with one. The screen was showing nonsense. I wanted to turn it off. I could not figure out how to escape from the screen. I sneak away.

I try to stand up, but I can’t.  My legs are too heavy and weak.  I cannot move them.  How can this be, I ask, since I am so active?

I was amazed that they were going to do an excerpt from a Wagnerian opera. I was sitting on what I could only call a twelve foot high ottoman, which was covered in oriental rugs. The Wagner, which I identified as Tannhauser, was excellent. It had singers and dancers and was very spirited. It did not sound like Wagner at all. I thought Edie, who was not on the tower with me, had to like it too. I climbed from the ottoman tower to a rafter. The tower fell forward onto the stage.

I picked my dirty clothes up off the floor. There was a three drawer dresser. I opened the second drawer, which was empty, to put the clothes in. Someone was ironing next to the cabinet. She asked me what I was doing; I told her. She told me that is where she kept her cleaning supplies. I asked her “what cleaning supplies?” She went to the drawer and there were no cleaning supplies in them. She was confused. I closed the drawer.

I was sitting in the right field stands watching the game. I was about six rows back. A ball was hit in my direction. I had a glove on. I reached up and caught it. It was a home run.

I had gone to sleep at about 11. All of this occurred between 11 and about 6 this morning. What does it mean? Perhaps, seven fat years and seven lean?

The Candidates and the Jews

What a terrible subject.

Why does it have to come up so often, even when there is no there there?

This time, I have to blame it on Tim Russert, whom, I must say, I like less and less every time I see him (and I never really liked him that much to begin with).

Russert asks Obama about Farrakhan’s endorsement. Obama handles the question just fine: I denounce Farrakhan and everything he stands for and always have, I believe the US-Israel relationship is sacrosanct, and I have always had a good relationship with the Jewish people.

Hillary leaps and claims that, while Obama denounced Farrakhan, she did not hear him reject Farrakahn.

Russert must now be jumping for joy. He believes that he has caught Obama in a Catch – 22 position, and isn’t that what journalism is all about?

Obama, on the other hand, says: “Denounce” “Reject” What is the difference. If it makes Senator Clinton happier if I say I reject Farrakahn, fine, I reject him.

Another perfect answer. Russert (sotto voce): Curses, foiled again.

Yet today I hear this entire episode being replayed on NPR, with a new twist. It appears that there are emails, and blogs, and phone messages, and flyers, and who knows what, appearing before each primary saying something like (and I exaggerate for effect): Obama hates Jews and Israel; he is really a Moslem.

The question is: is this being orchestrated by the Clinton campaign?

Hillary is asked that question, and she says (and I paraphrase): Not as far as I know, and I denounce such tactics.

I listened hard: I did not hear her reject them.

And, in her mind, we now know, those two words are significantly different.

But……

I jest.

Don’t I?

Maybe Just a Coincidence

I wanted to see what time tonight Democratic debate was on.  I knew that Tim Russert was moderating, so I assumed that it might be on Channel 24, the NBC station on DC Comcast Cable.  I clicked on the cable ‘menu’ button, and scrolled to 24.  I saw that most of the evening is devoted to “Big Loser”.

P.S.  The debate is on Channel 36, MSNBC.

Everyone is Complaining about the Oscars

But I thought the show was quite good. I liked the understated way that John Stewart handled the hosting. I thought everyone looked very pretty. I really enjoyed 98 year old Robert Boyle’s acceptance speech at winning a lifetime award as an Art Director. His voice sounded so strong and young, and his mind appeared so clear. I was very happy that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won in the best song category. It is a very nice song, and their movie “Once” is worth seeing “Twice” or more, a beautiful movie. We hadn’t seen any of the violent movies which were nominated and won awards. I did see “La Vie en Rose” and, as much as I could listen to Piaf interminably, I didn’t like the movie at all, so the best actress award surprised me. I had hoped that Julie Christie would win for “Away from Her”, although in fact in that movie I thought that the better acting job was that of Gordon Pinsent as her husband. I hadn’t recalled ever seeing Pinsent before; a Canadian friend was very surprised at that. (And I thought that, as dementia movies go, “The Savages” was in fact better than the very good “Away from Her”).

And as to the award for best documentary, I knew nothing about “Counterfeit”, a holocaust story, but thought that Austrian director Stefan Ruzowitzky’s acceptance speech (about all the great Austrian directors and how they all had to leave Austria because they were Jewish so that it was fitting that the first Austrian film to win an Oscar was a film about the crimes of the Nazis) was extremely well slated. Of course, in that category, I was voting for “Sicko” for reasons “politicko”. (And as a add-on to the literature on health care in America, click to the right on Cousin Randy’s blog and read his piece on Turning 60).

It was a beautiful day, the air clear and crisp

So, at about 4 p.m., I decided to take the four mile walk from my house towards downtown, my goal being the Goethe Institute on 7th Street, where I would see the film “Das Schloss” (“The Castle”) by Michael Haneke (pronounced like the holiday of the Maccabees) at 6:30. The walk was beautiful and invigorating, I bought my ticket (Goethe movies are only $4) and went next door with a half hour to spare, and had a drink and their $3.99 bar food (in this case, four chicken tenders of the same type that they sold at RFK) at what may be the worst restaurant in DC (and I don’t even know its name, if it has one).

The movie stars Ulrich Muhe, known in American from the well received German movie, The Lives of Others. It is a 123 minute movie (made for German and Austrian television), and it seems like 1,230 minutes. It is a very, very slow movie.

Now, I have not read the Kafka book on which it is based, and to which it is apparently quite faithful. And one must remember that Kafka died before finishing the book, leaving ignored instructions that his works should all be destroyed upon his death, so it is unclear either that Kafka ever wanted the book published (although some think it was to be his major work), or that the published book would not have been changed in many and unknown ways. Nevertheless, here we are.

K. arrives in the village to report for his new job as a land surveyor at the castle only to find out that maybe he was never hired in the first place, or maybe he was but the castle situation changed, or maybe he just hasn’t found the people who actually hired him, or who knows what is going on? But he can’t find the right people to talk to, the villagers seem an awfully provincial group, and it never stops snowing. But he meets Frieda, the mistress of the man theoretically in charge of his position, and they decide to get married, and he gets a job as a school janitor on a temporary basis, and has two assistants, one named Arthur and one Jeremiah, but can’t tell them apart so he tells them they are both going to be called Arthur and that they are each responsible jointly for whatever he asks either to do. But one quits and the other steals Frieda from him. And it snows.

K.’s situation is not good, but he is not a very sympathetic character. And it is always snowing. And the movie doesn’t end, until it ends like the book ends and remember that the book was unf…….

An Afternoon at the American Craft Show in Baltimore

Parking $20. Admission $14 per person. 700 craft booths. Would it be worth it?

As it turned out, the answer is ‘yes’, although we didn’t buy anything. And apparently, although we did see some purchasing, sales were less than they had been in the recent past, with exhibitors wondering about the effect of the nation’s present economic problems on the willingness or ability of attendees to acquire expensive, luxury items.

Yes, and the items were, for the most part, expensive. For example, I saw a very nice basket made by Mary Jackson of Johns Island, South Carolina. Very nice. It was marked at $900.

I saw many booths with lovely women’s woven tops. Most were about $800.

And so it goes.

If you Google “American Craft Show Baltimore”, you get the website, which interestingly features a photograph of one work by all, or at least the vast majority of, exhibitors. Here are some of my picks from the various categories.

Basketry – yes, Mary Jackson

Ceramics – Lesley Thomson

Wearable Fashion – Shu Lu (for her name)

Decorative Fiber – Shirley Edidin (carpets)

Furniture – Nathan Hunter

Glass – Wendy Besett

Jewelry – Baharal-Gnida

Metal – Jim Cohen

Mixed Media – Guy Michaels (alabaster)

Wood – Michael Mode

New Exhibitor – Haewon Shin (I don’t remember seeing her/his exhibit, but I like the picture)

We also saw the creator of the two old, happy women who live in our living room. He is Michael Buonaiuoto, who lives in Fayetteville, Arkansas, but who used to live in New Mexico (where we made our purchase years ago). It was good to see his collection of items, and to know he can be reached at www.alittlecompany.net.

And we spoke to a young jewelry maker, of Japanese background, whose sign says that she lived in Hannibal, MO. I asked her how that happened and she said that her boyfriend bought a 4500 square foot house there, so she moved from Boston and that a lot of artists are buying houses there very cheaply with studio space. Still she says, its the pits, and she can’t even get good cheese.

I don’t think that either Hannibal or Fayetteville is featured on the craft show home page, so I guess there are quite a few less than 700 pictured there. Maybe you have to pay to be featured.

Also not featured was Yarrow (I think that is the name), who make sheepskin coats (of various lengths and colors) in Santa Fe and sell them on the road (they used to have a store, but not now). I figured they had about 80 coats displayed (and some hats), ranging from about $800 to about $2000. Very beautiful.

Finally, and I don’t know the maker’s name, there was an artist who made timepieces out of a beautiful reddish brown wood. The nicest one was about 12 feet tall, worked through a pendulum mechanism, with all of the gears (each made from wood themselves and probably 6 to 10 inches in diameter) in full view. He was outdone only by artist who made a working 2/3 size spinning wheel out of pure glass.

Afterwards, we had dinner (with friends) at Indigma, an Indian restaurant on Charles Street previously reviewed in this column. Their food is not quite traditional and very mild. On a Saturday night by about 7 or 7:30, it was full. Edie had a vegetable korma (like a stew), I ordered herbal chicken (boneless chicken breasts in a green sauce; hard to find the taste), and our friends ordered mahi mahi (which might have been the best of the bunch) and a lamb shank dish (which I ate part of in exchange for half of my chicken) and I thought was only so-so. I think I had the tilapia last time, and if we go back, that is what I will get.

We did see our old waiter, Kevin from Kenya. His family is doing ok, he said, and his classes at Morgan State are going very well.

John McCain and the Female Lobbyist

I don’t think this is a very important or interesting story.  Or, rather, if it is important and interesting, it has not been sufficiently developed.  Nevertheless, the New York Times this morning, starting on its front page, had a lengthy article that almost seemed like a book.

This afternoon at the gym, Fox News was on the television monitor above me.  The Fox team was talking about the Times article.  Or rather, it was talking about the Times.  It was raking it over the coals for being so one sided and unfair.

It isn’t clear to me that the Times is either being unfair or one sided.  I just think that they devoted too much space to the article.  Its contents may have been 100% true.

But Fox News, that’s another matter.  They went so overboard, they of the ‘fair and balanced’ motto, that it was embarrassing to watch.

I don’t like Fox News, I don’t.

I Had Never Heard of Sabina Spielrein or Graziella Rossi. Now I Have

Graziella Rossi is a Swiss actress. Sabina Spielrein was a Russian-Jewish psychiatrist, killed by the Nazis during World War II, who was both very influential in her own right, and who was a patient of, and romantically involved with, Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung. Lost for years, her papers recently resurfaced, and from them her early life in Rostow on the Don, through her illness and treatment by Jung in Zurich, her medical training, her relationship with Jung, her marriage, her work in the Soviet Union all became known, or re-known. A biography of her was written by Karsten Ainaes, and this play by Liv Hege Nylund was based on the book.

It is a mesmerizing story, remarkably performed by the actress who premiered the work in Zurich in German. Last night was apparently Rossi’s first performance of anything in English. She is a tremendous actress.

The play was performed in conjunction with the Swiss Embassy and the Jung Society of Washington at Theater J. A year or two ago, Theater J staged a play called “Hannah and Martin”, about the relationship between German philosopher Martin Heidegger and German-Jewish philosopher Hannah Arendt. The similarities between the two situations are manifold. The difference: Arendt lived through the war (in America), while Spielrein was not so lucky.

Adding to the earlier posting…..

The Examiner points out this morning that DC ranks at the absolute bottom of jurisdictions as to how much is spent on pre-school intervention for disabled children, and how this lack (in spite of federal mandates to the contrary) feeds into the problem in elementary schools (where 20% of DC students require special services), which feeds into, etc., etc., etc. You get the picture.

There are some impressive statistics cited as to how early intervention helps elementary and subsequent school performance and social integration. And a couple of local horror stories.