Da boat, da boat, da boat

I was trying to think about how many times I have sailed on cruise ships in the 20 or so years since I first went with my parents on a three day Mexican excursion.   You may know the one, LA to Catalina to Ensenada and back.  It was a big deal at the time on an old Royal Caribbean ship, the name of which I don't even remember. I think I've logged 11 more cruises since then, but I could be missing one or two.

I prefer the more intimate small ships like Regent Seven Seas in Tahiti and Crystal (Serenity) in the Mediterranean.  Only a few hundred passengers are on board those ships, and the service is impeccable. And that raised some concerns about the monster we're on now

With 2850 passengers on board, and 1250 crew, the Celebrity Solstice is the largest ship we have been on.  It is a floating city, and normally when I travel, I want to get away from cities. That being said, it has actually been a rewarding experience so far.

First of all, the ship itself.  Launched three years ago, it is among the most modern and technologically advanced cruise ships on the ocean today.  The staterooms all offer wifi (dial up speed at 75 cents a minute, so you can rack up a hefty bill in no time), HDTV with a variety of live channels from around the world, music, and movies on demand.  Though the outside balcony staterooms are pretty much the industry standard of 250 square feet, these have 15% more living area, because of the design.  Flat screen TVs free up a lot of space, and increased cabinet storage over the beds reduce the wall of drawers that in the past ate away a good chunk of your roaming area.  You do notice the difference.

Then there are the aesthetics of the public areas.  The

 artwork alone has to be worth millions.  Original paintings, drawings, and sculptures are found throughout, as is colorful glasswork that is made here on board in the glass blowing gallery on the top deck.  The center of the ship is open, much like a large hotel (think the Hyatt Regency in San Francisco), with a live tree sprouting up the open space alongside the banks of glass elevators.  Elsewhere, specialty cafes and 15 bars.  On the deck where the Vegas style casino is located, you'll find what else but Vegas style shops.  There is a large computer/Internet room with a small Apple store on board.  Though as I mentioned, we limit our time online because of the cost and the slow speed.  Many ports now offer high speed Internet, and they are a welcome site for us when we arrive.

For recreation (or relaxation, depending on how you look at it), the Lawn Club on the top deck is where you can lounge or play lawn sports (yes, it is real grass).   The gym is the largest and best equipped of any we have seen on the seas.  There are three pools, two outdoor, one indoor, and so many hot tubs, many are never being used.  And there are several reading rooms and libraries where on sea days, I often like to hang (I've already read The Racketeer by John Grisham and have now just started My Spiritual Journey by the Dalai Lama).

For dining, and from the looks of many of the people on this ship that is a VERY important part of their existence here, there are 10 different venues, from the Mast Grill poolside to the Grand Epernay Dining Room where we have a private table for two by a window overlooking the sea. There are some really cool alternatives when it comes to finding food on the Solstice.  First, the Oceanview Cafe.   On a lot of other ships, it's called the Lido Lounge or Lido Cafe.   Nice names for a cafeteria.  We called it "The Hog Trough."  Imagine people who haven't missed a meal all their lives, lining up in an all you can eat buffet, and loading their tray with as much fatty food as possible ... So worried that the ship might run out, they elbow other passengers out of the way just so they can get that second helping of chocolate decadence cake.  Real pretty.   The scene was so repulsive we usually steered clear of The Hog Trough.   But the Solstice folks had a better idea.  First of all, no more trays!  You get a plate or a bowl, depending on what you are eating, thus limiting the gluttony you observe when people are given a 1.5 by 2 foot rimmed plastic tray and feel they have to fill it.

Second, instead of long lines where you shove your tray down the metal edge, waiting for the guy in front of you to pile on one more pound of mashed potatoes and gravy, here there are food stations with wait staff there to serve you ... And there are a lot of them throughout the cafe.  Finally, the quality of the food is excellent.  While Wilbur from Omaha can still get his hunk of beef with mashed potatoes and mounds of butter, the majority of the serving stations feature a much healthier fare.   Lots of fruit, great local sandwiches, seafood, and salads for lunch.  Yogurt, cereals, fruit for breakfast.  In the past you had to search out the healthy stuff.  Here, it is standard.

Also on board, there are several specialty restaurants that do charge a bit more for meals including Asian, French, and Italian venues.  They are really gourmet experiences.   

The evening shows ... Musicals, magic acts, singers ... Have been entertaining.  And the main showroom was converted into a football stadium for the Superbowl (which was on here live at 10:30AM Monday morning).  It was OK for one quarter, but after that we retreated to our room to watch the drama and disappointing outcome.

We're never bored.   And we never feel crowded.  We also rarely do any tours organized by the ship, instead preferring to explore the different ports on our own or arrange our own excursions.

Criticisms:  beds are too short, you can't plug your iPad or iPod into the TV to watch your own movies or listen to your own music, and as usual, there are the few grumpy passengers on board who are always angry at something.  But complaints are few, and overall, life on board (at least for us) is good.

Additional facts for my boating friends:

The ship weighs 122,000 tons

13 decks

85% of staterooms have verandas

Maximum speed 24 knots

4 Diesel engines

The ship can produce 2180 cubic meters of potable water each day

Held captive by the Maoris

On a balmy cloudless summer evening, the Celebrity Solstice set sail from Auckland.  The Solstice is an engineering feat, certainly the most technologically advanced, modern, comfortable ship we have sailed on.   I'll write more about it later.

After a rather choppy first night (one of those where you have to sleep on your stomach so you don't roll out of bed), we arrived at our first port of call, the New Zealand city of Tauranga.  Like every city and town we have visited so far in NZ, it is very clean and well kept.  The locals are happy to see you there, and why not?  We drop a lot of cash in their community.  Tauranga is a seaside resort town, like Puerto Vallarta but about one-one hundredth the size.  More like Santa Cruz, California, but smaller and without the boardwalk.  It is a surfing Mecca with wide white beaches rolling down to the pounding surf.

From Tauranga, we headed out with our guide, Christine, for the trek to Rotorua.  The terrain is much like Northern California, specifically the Napa and Sonoma valleys.  It is a rich farming area where the kiwi industry got its start.  Mile after mile, you pass by kiwi orchards, just like the winery vineyards of Napa.  A slice of fresh kiwi and taste of kiwi wine (really sweet, like a dessert wine), and we were outta there.

Our destination was the resort town of Rotorua, which is pronounced kind of like Roto-Rooter.  It is popular for the same reason the small community of Calistoga is popular in the Napa Valley ... geysers, hot mineral pools, and mud baths.  Being built on top of a vast system of underground steam works, many homes in the winter depend on the steam to heat their homes.  That comes with a problem.  Christine told us that sometimes, a steam vent will open under a house, the result being catastrophic.  While we were there, we saw a vent that had opened right under a roadway, forcing the road to be rerouted. 

 The geothermal activity makes Rotorua a popular place to rejuvenate, the large historic resorts catering to the infirmed  and those who want to keep from being infirmed.  The rotten egg smell of sulphur is present, though not overwhelming, and being a warm summer day, Rotorua was packed with kiwis (New Zealanders) and Aussies here for vacation. 

 Rotorua is also on a large lake which reminded us of Clear Lake in Northern California.   The hills surrounding it are dried out from the lack of rain, and the shoreline of the huge lake is a bit stagnant, giving it more than a faint odor of decay (yet, one more reason it reminded me of Clear Lake).

Now, here's where the trip got interesting.  This region is still inhabited by an ancient New Zealand tribe known as the Maori.   As we entered their tribal land of Te Puia, the toothless chief came out of their temple with his sword-bearing tribesmen behind him.  He wanted to know, in essence, what the hell we were doing there.  He demanded to negotiate with one of the people in our party.  Kurt, being the trooper he is, volunteered.  There wasn't a lot of talking going on, more like a lot of grunting and chanting and threatening Kurt with a six foot long stick.  Eventually, the Maoris decided we were cool, they invited us into their temple where they danced a bit, chanted a bit, stuck their tongues out a lot.  To show their gratitude that we weren't there to rip them off or fight them, they invited Kurt up onto the stage where they pressed their noses against his nose, a gesture of friendship, and all was well.

Next, a sea day, then yesterday, Akaroa.

Before 2011, the cruise ships would dock at a port close to Christchurch, New Zealand's second largest city.   Now, they dock in Akaroa, a very small tourist town on an inlet of the Pacific coast. The is no dock here large enough to handle the big ships, so we anchored in the bay and took tenders to shore. After finding an incredibly fast high speed internet connection at the tiny lubrary here (99 messages in my inbox), we boarded a bus for the hour and a half drive, much of it through scenic mountain passes, to Christchurch.

The reason ships no longer go to Christchurch is because of the devastating quake in February, 2011.   The 7.3 quake destroyed the docks and about 90% of the downtown.   With a population of about 400,000, Christchurch was similar to downtown Sacramento.   In fact, the downtown area looked much like California's capital city in size and structure with modern high rises sprinkled among smaller historic homes and offices.  Today, there is little left.

While entire city blocks have been cleared, elsewhere the rubble is exactly where it has sat for the past two years.  While we toured the Christchurch museum (which did survive) and the Christchurch Botanical Gardens, which now in mid-summer are in full bloom, the main interest for most tourists is the devastated downtown.   Pedestrians are not allowed in most areas, partly because of the construction but also because of the lingering danger of collapsing buildings.  However, licensed buses are permitted to drive through.  As a reporter, I covered several catastrophic quakes, but to see the lingering destruction in this once quaint city makes me believe the Christchurch quake would have been worse than Loma Prieta, Northridge, Eureka, and Coalinga.  More than 300 people died here when multi-story buildings constructed in the 70s and 80s collapsed. And while the intent is to rebuild the city, the process is slow.   An interesting note, the government here has an "earthquake authority."  Officials inspected buildings and homes following the quake to assess the extent of damage.  Then, the Goverment paid each home owner up to $100,000 to cover damage costs.   Those with insurance could file for more relief should the damage exceed $100,000.   Not a bad deal ... But then on the other hand, a gallon of gas here will cost you $9.00 US.  And lunch for two with a couple of cokes and chicken sandwiches ... $45.

What happened to Friday?

If you think about it (and most of us don't), time is an obscure concept.  It is only relevant in the moment.  In the past and future, it can only be used as a reference.  As such, time becomes even more elusive to comprehend when it doesn't exist.  So, as I sit here in the Rendezvous Grand Hotel in Auckland (which, in the present moment, is an excellent hotel) I wonder what happened to Friday, January 25, 2013.  For me, it never existed.  It is a lost day, never to be retrieved. 

Thursday started off normal enough ... a pleasant day in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico ... with plans to board a plane to Los Angeles.  From there, it would be on to Fiji, then Auckland.  The Alaska Airlines flight was on time, smooth, and comfortable from PVR to LAX.  Then after a five hour layover at LAX, at 10:30PM Thursday, Air Pacific flight 811 lumbered down the runway at LAX, not an empty seat on board.  Ten hours later, the aging antiquated 747 touched down in Nadi.  Crossing the International Dateline, Friday was gone .... it never happened.  And we were on our way.

As bad as some of the US airlines are these days, Air Pacific is worse.  From inedible food (lunch was a pasty white flavorless hot dog on a dried out bun, no ketchup, no mustard, no relish), to an "entertainment" system that didn't work (fortunately, the iPad is loaded with books and movies), to pieces of the interior of the plane held together with brown glue and tape, this was no Singapore Airlines.  However, it did take off and land on time (which, according to various websites is a crap shoot for Air Pacific).  And now we are in Auckland.  If you're wondering why we would take Air Pacific and not a more reputable airline, ask American Airlines.  We used miles for this trip (nearly 200,000 total) and this is the airline American put us on. 

But here we are, on Monday morning (those of you in north America won't see Monday morning until tomorrow), and within a few hours, we'll be boarding the Celebrity Solstice for a 37 day journey.

The two days here have given us a chance to explore Auckland, a vastly different city than when I was last here nearly 30 years ago.  It is very clean, very contemporary, a great city for walking with distinct neighborhoods from the homey Parnell district to the cheeky waterfront.  Our hotel is one block from SkyCity.  It is from SkyCty that the city's most notable landmark, the Sky Tower sprouts.   At 328 meters (1076 feet), it is the tallest structure in New Zealand.  In addition to being the hub of communications for this country, it is also a place where you can (legally) bungee jump off the side.   We didn't, nor did we see anyone else.

Auckland is also a city that is famous for boating.   More people have boats here per capita than any other large metropolitan city in the world.  Thus, the nickname, city of sails.  The boats have priority here.  And in the middle of town near the harbor, there is a "drawbridge" sidewalk that connected two islands.  When a sailboat passes, pedestrians are stopped, the bridge opens, and the boat passes.  It can take 15 minutes for the process, and yesterday, we saw restaurant workers (presumably being made late for work by the bridge closing)   who sprinted over the bridge as soon as it reopened apparently heading to one of the many eateries on the island.

It is also a seismically active region.  The locals here talk of the White Island volcano which, in the last week, has experienced a significant increase in geothermal activity.   On a scale of one to four, where four indicates an eruption is imminent, the warning level has just been raised to three.  Tomorrow, we are scheduled to sail right past the island.  Last night, we talked with locals who say if the island blows, they're outta here.While it is a great city to visit, there would be the challenges in living here.  Yes, English is the language spoken, but it takes a lot of concentration to understand the type of English you hear here.  Prices are high compared to the U.S. and Mexico ... an average dinner here with a bottle of wine will set you back over $100.  And gas is about $7.00US a gallon.  And they drive on the wrong side of the road!

So, I guess it is time to leave and explore other parts of New Zealand.   And speaking of time, that day I lost last week, Friday, I will never experience.  However, when we return to the U.S. and Mexico, I will live Monday, March 4 twice.  I hope it's a good day.

An adventure awaits

Most writers and journalists have, at some times in their lives, experienced those periods where they just didn’t feel like writing.   No stimulations, words won’t flow, too busy doing other things.  Whatever, I am emerging from such a period. 

It wasn’t for the lack of opinions or observations.  Our travels to California and the return car trip to Puerto Vallarta, immigration issues for Americans in Mexico, improvements to (and the failure of) the infrastructure we observed upon our return to Mexico, The Presidential election in November, the spate of gun violence in America … all topics that crossed my mind as worthy of a mention.  But it was easier to throw a few lines onto Facebook and let it go at that.

But now, I feel like writing again.  Perhaps the timing is related to an upcoming adventure on which we will depart one week from today.   Though some may argue that the past five years that we have lived in Mexico have been one long vacation, the reality is that even when you  live in a tropical resort town, it really isn’t a vacation.  Sure, it’s a nice place to live, but you still do pretty much the same things you do when you live anywhere else.  Today will we go to the beach, then have cocktails at sunset and dine at a five star restaurant?  No.  I have a doctor’s appointment, then I teach English to Mexicans, then tonight we’ll probably grill some chicken and watch Lance Armstrong admit to Oprah that he lied.   Sound familiar?

So, that being said, next week, we will embark on a real vacation that has been nearly a year in the planning.  A gift to ourselves after we both celebrated big birthdays last year.

For six weeks, we will leave the winter of Mexico (and it has been a cloudy and cool one) to the warmth of down under.  New Zealand, Australia, Bali … then onto Hawaii and eventually in mid-March back home to PV.   Next Thursday, Friday, and Saturday will be the flights from hell.  Leaving Puerto Vallarta at 4:00PM Thursday, we go to LA, then Fiji, then onto Auckland, NZ, arriving there at 2:00PM Saturday (including the date change).  Seventeen hours in the air, 27 hours including layovers.  The iPad is loaded with movies, the Kindle is loaded with books, the sleeping pills are in the backpack.

After two days in Auckland, we board the Celebrity Solstice for an 18 night cruise all around New Zealand with stops in Tauranga, Akaroa, Christchuch, Dusky and Doubtful and Milford Sounds, then across the Tasman Sea to Sydney, Hobart (Tasmania), Adelaide,  Esperance, Albany, and Perth.

The cruise terminates n Perth, but while most passengers will disembark there, we will stay on board for the next 17 night Australian cruise which will complete the voyage around the island/continent.  From Perth, we visit Port Hedland, then Benoa (Bali), Darwin, Cairns (Great Barrier Reef),  then back to Sydney where the sea adventure ends.  From Sydney, we will fly to Honolulu where we will “vacation" for a week, then back to PV.

We have never been gone so long before.  It will be an experience, and while we haven’t thought much about it since we planned it last March, we are both getting excited about the adventures that we will encounter.   My plan is to blog along the way, relaying the observations and oddities of travel a half a world away.   It may be challenging.  

First of all, I‘m not sure what type of Internet opportunities we will have (we won’t be buying the ship board Internet package because at 49 cents a minute for extremely slow online access, our WiFi bill would soon eclipse the cost of the cruise).   Second, and more concerning, the letter “I” just broke on my computer.  If I press hard enough, the “I” will print, and spell check catches most of the misspellings …. But f you notce a few words mssng an “”, that’s why.

Another day, another massacre.

So, it has happened again.   Another kook armed with an arsenal including tear gas grenades and assault weapons.   This time it wasn’t a Safeway store in Tucson, it wasn’t a beauty parlor in Orange County, it wasn’t a high school or a post office.  No, this time it was a movie theater near Denver where mostly young people gathered to celebrate the opening of the summer’s most anticipated film. 

The aftermath is much the same as we have seen increasingly and repeatedly in the United States.  “What a shock.”  “He was such a nice guy.”  He was so quiet.”  And for the victims’ families, a deep soul searching for answers that likely will never come … not now, not ever.

This morning, I looked back over blogs I have written during the past several years.  There have been a few on this same subject.  Sure, the places where the urban assaults took place are different, but the story is similar.   A man with a gun, usually an assault rifle, sets out to kill other innocent unsuspecting human beings. 

I am also concerned by many of the comments I read online today.   The far right is blaming President Obama for allowing a decay in the moral fiber of America to unravel to the point that such shootings are now common place.   The NRA is staunchly defending the right of the suspect to possess and use automatic assault weapons, one NRA member posting that it is too bad everyone in the theater didn’t have a similar weapon so they could have returned fire.   The NRA is a powerful force that seems to hold Washington at bay, and will go to virtually any length to allow the continued proliferation of deadly assault weapons.  Indeed, some NRA member seems to gloat whenever a shooting like today’s takes place because it affirms that they have been successful in their unyielding efforts to allow killers to own assault weapons.

We’re not talking about muskets here, where you fire buckshot in the backside of an assailant.   We are talking about military grade assault weapons that can be owned by almost anyone. 

I for one am fed up with the NRA and their argument that if all Americans owned assault rifles, we wouldn’t have this problem.  The fact is the vast majority of Americans don’t own any guns, let alone assault weapons.  And other than gang warfare, not once have I ever heard of any case where one assault gun toting American has stopped another assault gun toting American bent on murder. 

It has come time for America to stand up to the NRA bullies.  There is simply no reason whatsoever why any one other than police or military needs to have access to these types of weapons.  Until Americans wake up to that fact, Americans will continue to wake up to more gruesome news where dozens of innocent people just living their lives have fallen victim to another kook with a gun.

An Open Letter to NBC

 

Dear NBC:

I already know that historically, you don’t care a lot about me and a few million of your other viewers who have the misfortune to live here on the West (left) coast.   We rarely get our network news live from you, and when it comes to sporting events, unless it is a Saturday or Sunday, pretty much everything you give us is three hours old.  Yes, we do see that “LIVE, ET” thing that you throw up in the upper right hand corner of the screen.  Meaning, “LIVE” for your viewers in the Eastern Time zone, “SCREW YOU BECAUSE YOU ALREADY SAW THE RESULTS ONLINE” to your viewers in the West (like tonight, watching the time delayed Olympics qualifying from Omaha and San Jose … old news for us in the West).

So, here is a chance for redemption.  During the London Olympics, give us stuff at the same time those on the East coast see it.   I know you want to have the big drama building extravaganza for prime time viewers on the main network, and that’s fine, you can still do that.  But when the events you are showing in prime time for the West coast are so old they have been Tweeted, Facebooked, and posted on every news website online hours before they are broadcast here, it is kind of insulting.

You’ve got the NBC Sports Channel, you’ve got MSNBC, you’ve got  CNBC (yeah, I know, you don’t want to interrupt the stock ticker), so why don’t you show the events live as they happen for all of us to see on those cable channels if you don't want to interrupt regular programming on the main network?  Then, during prime time on the network, wrap it all up in a pretty little package with Bob Costas and the other “NBC Olympics Stars” and redo it all then.  It will be perfect for those who couldn’t see it during the day, and perfect for us West coasters who want to relive the thrill of what happened hours earlier, even if we already saw it.

You know that 52 years ago when CBS carried the 1960 Winter Olympics from Squaw Valley, it was so amazing that even if it was broadcast two days later, it was cool.  But hey, this is 2012.  We have IPhones and we have IPads that give results as they happen. We have bootleg websites from third world countries that stream the Olympics live as they happen and satellite dishes from CTV in Canada that broadcast it live (they realize when sports is happening live, it is an event to be shared then, not on a three hour tape delay).

So step up NBC.  Give it to us live.  We can take it.  But what we can’t take is another Olympics where Bob Costas and the other announcers are overly excited about an important matchup … that took place three hours before we are seeing it.

Thanks for your consideration.

Dan Adams

Palm Springs

PS: I’ll still keep watching KMIR.  The desert’s “trusted” news source.

Arizona: The new home of fruits and nuts

Picture this.  You are out of milk and bread so you hop in the car, drive to Safeway or 7-11, and as you get out of the car to walk into the store, someone approaches you.  They don't want your money.  They want your ID.  And, they want one other thing.  They want proof that you are a legal U.S. resident.   What would you do?

That was the scenario facing a large section of the population in Arizona after the kooky governor there and her cronies implemented SB1070, a law that the U.S. Supreme Court has now largely ruled unconstitutional.   It was a huge victory for civil rights, a great defeat for racism.   And it is a dual message to states and the federal government.  It is not up to individual states to decide how to enforce federal immigration laws.

Shortly after the SCOTUS decision was released, Arizona's eccentric governor Jan Brewer took to the airwaves to declare it was a tremendous victory for Arizona.   As the day wore on, perhaps her advisers informed her that in reality, it was an overwhelming repudiation of the Arizona law.  By the end of the day, Brewer was telling Fox News (of course) that the ruling was "unconscionable."  She shifted the blame to President Obama, claiming that his administration had told Arizona to "drop dead."  Obama has also come under attack from immigration rights leaders for deporting more illegal immigrants than any other president, including George Bush.

I believe that if there are people in the U.S. living here illegally, then in many cases they should be deported.  However I feel more strongly that if those same illegal immigrants have been here for a number of years, have assimilated into American culture, have contributed to society and to their communities, are crime free, attend school, hold down jobs or serve in the military, then steps should be made available to allow them to become legal US citizens and residents.   It goes a step beyond what Obama did a few weeks back in announcing plans to allow young immigrants brought here illegally by their parents years ago to stay and be welcomed.

Now back to my question.  What would you do if you were stopped by law enforcement and asked to provide documentation to prove you were in the US legally?  A driver's license would not work.    You would have to present your passport or immigration papers.  I don't carry my passport with me and I don't know anyone else who does either.  Proving you are in the US legally on a moments notice, no matter who you are, is a dilemma that fortunately has been  deemed unconstitutional by the Supreme Court.    Now, signs like the one we saw last year on a car in Arizona will hopefully no longer be necessary.  That sign read, "Don't Stop Me.  I'm not Latino, just tanned."

Lawyers, used car salesmen, and ...

Those of you who know me know  that I am very healthy. I'm in my 50s, I eat well, exercise for more than an hour a day, five days a week.   Don't smoke, have a cocktail or two each evening, and have little stress in my life.   My family has no history of cancer or heart disease.   My dad was healthy into his 80s. My mom is still going strong.

I do have slightly elevated cholesterol that, with a daily low dosage treatment of Simvastatin, is in the exceptionally healthy range and has been for eight years. Simvastatin is so widely used, that it costs less than aspirin ($14 for a year prescription).   That's the only medication I take.  The most serious medical ailment I have ever had was an appendicitis.

So, you'd think that I could easily get health insurance.  Guess again.

After I retired from News10, I had to buy insurance on my own.  I started out paying about $2500 per year for coverage from Bupa (a Latin America company) that allowed me to be in the US for up to six months of the year.  The deductible is $3000 annually.  It is basically catastrophic coverage.  In the past four years, I have thankfully never had to use it.  Now, my premium has exploded to $5500 per year for the same coverage.  And I am shopping around.

I want insurance that will cover me mainly in Mexico, but also in the US when I am here.   That rules out your major carriers like Blue Cross and Aetna who do not provide coverage out of the US (even though the cost of health care in Mexico is about one-third of what it is here). So, I need to go with international companies that I had never heard of before.  IMG, Azimuth, Best Doctors, etc.    Each company has their own way of covering their asses, while not covering mine.

IMG doesn't take at risk clients (cholesterol is a risk).   Azimuth would cover me but would exclude any illness or treatment related to elevated cholesterol.  Heart attack, stroke, circulatory issues, blood issues, leukemia .. all not covered while I still pay $4500 per year.  What the hell good is it?  This afternoon, I got the latest results from the Best Doctors application.  For a $4400 annual premium, They will insure me with a $5000 deductible for most things but a $20,000 annual deductible for anything related to cholesterol.    I am waiting to get further clarification on what anything related to cholesterol would include.  But I imagine, it's probably the same list as the one the good folks at Azimuth threw at me.

OK, here's the deal.  I hear a lot of people complain about President Obama's health care plan.   Probably a lot of those people who are critical already have good health care coverage from work,  or worked for some government agency at one time or another and have lifetime coverage with little out of pocket expense,  or currently have Medicare.   They are the lucky ones.   While the criticism in some cases may be warranted, the reality is, something has to be done to open up medical care to the uninsured or under insured.  Or better yet, quality affordable health insurance needs to become more readily available.  

Last year, a  New York Times article reported that for the third year in a row, health insurance companies were enjoying record profits.  While any industry deserves to make a profit, the question has to be at what cost is it to its customers?   I would like to be one of their customers.     And they want me but only if they are assured they will not have to risk anything if I am their customer.

There used to be an old joke about the most unscrupulous profession  ... the punch line being something about attorneys and used car salesmen. That's so 1980s.  In 2012, it is health insurance executives and the people who try sell their policies, who seemingly care little about the clients, and only about their client's money.

The joy of giving: How much or how many

“Hey-lo.  Ho er yu?”

Those are sweet sounds to my ears, spoken by eight Mexicans who until a few months ago, spoke no English.

Now, three times a week, from 4:00 to 6:00PM, I meet with Maria, Avelino, Maria Belin, Eric, Angelica, Eduardo, Lettie, and Nubia, and do my best to teach my new friends my version of English.   It is one of the most rewarding things I have done since I retired four years ago.

The youngest in the class are the three teenagers who realize that to achieve their dreams of being successful, they must learn English.  There is the retired doctor from Guadalajara.  Her dream was to live on the beach and learn English.   There is the jewelry designer who realizes in a resort town, she needs to communicate with the tourists.  And the farmer who helps a friend operate one of those para sailing operations and wants to be able to communicate with his gringo clients.   They are all so appreciative and inquisitive.  Full of questions.  Full of anticipation.

English is not an easy language for native Spanish speakers.  In Spanish, all letters and letter combinations always sound the same.  In English, the same letter can have a different sound in different words.  Think yellow vs. llama, can vs. cane, wide vs. width.  Combine that with the fact 70% of English verbs are irregular.   If the past of walk is walked, why isn’t the past of run, runed?  Get it?

They always have questions … and good questions.  Last week, they were stumped over the difference between “how much” and “how many.”   In Spanish, one word (cuanto/s) covers both.   As best I could, I explained that how much refers to items that cannot be precisely counted … how much gasoline, how much money, how much milk.   How many is used for items that can be counted … how many gallons of gas, how many dollars, how many glasses of milk. 

And of course, they want to know the “dirty” words (actually, they already know them. They just want to be sure they mean what they think they do).  When we were talking about things you find in a kitchen, the word “fork” really threw them.

When I was working, putting together stories for TV news, I always would try to think about how my story of that day may help at least one viewer in at least one way.  Though sometimes a challenge, the reward would come when I would get a letter, or phone call or email … or sometimes a face to face encounter … with that one viewer saying thanks.

Now, rewards come in a different way.  Every week I thank the students, and encourage them by telling them how much they have progressed.  To which they reply, “No, tank yu.”  Today is my last class until the fall.  I am returning to California for the summer.  But we are exchanging email addresses, Facebook names, and phone numbers.  We will be in touch.   As much as they appreciate the help I am giving them, I appreciate them for making me feel so welcome as a guest in their country.  That is the Mexican way.

A death and a birth

There are several signs that summer, though officially several weeks away, is already making its presence known in Puerto Vallarta.  We have had our first summer storms, and today is already overcast, humid, and threatening to rain.   That is summer in PV.  It is also the time of the year when the town is pretty much empty.  The seasonal residents have fled north and the hearty stream  of vacationers has been reduced to a trickle.  It is tough on the economy here, though as most locals know, they save up during the robust high season in order to limp along during the summer.  However, that will not be the case for one local, once thriving, historic business.

For decades, there has been one supermarket that has served the entire south end of Puerto Vallarta.  And it literally had the best selection of fresh food and imports of any store in the entire city.  Gutierrez Rizo Supermarket, known simply as Rizo's to the generations of shoppers there, charged more than anyone else.  But, it was convenient, it was local, and it knew its clientele, importing food items from the U.S. that gringos craved for and that you could not find anywhere else in town (think along the lines of horseradish, Libby's canned pumpkin, cranberry sauce).  This morning comes word in the PV Mirror that yesterday, Rizo's closed.  The employees apparently were told it will not reopen.

Those who live here and have depended on Rizo's have seen a slow decline over the past couple of years.  Once a two story market, the upstairs was shut down last year.  And the shelves became increasingly bare during this past season.  There would be days when you walked in and found three cases of canned bamboo shoots stacked in the middle of the store, but no bread or eggs or beer.   Some blame the infiltration of Wal-Mart which now has two super-stores in Puerto Vallarta and began stocking a better selection of products than Rizo's at lower prices.  Others blame it on poor management of Rizo's for their apparent inability to modernize while other more trendy grocery stores were opening elsewhere in town.   Whatever the reason, a landmark is shuttered, there are no large grocery markets on the south side, and we have lost an icon of what Mexico used to be.

But as Rizo's has died, life resurfaces for a scourge of the tropics.  It happens every few years, and apparently, this is one of them.  Locals tell us they are June bugs and they are among the most disgusting of insects I have ever encountered and they have once again invaded our neighborhood.  They are hard-shelled creatures that fly like mini-bombers, the smaller ones being the size of a dime, the larger ones more like a quarter.   They come out at sunset and stick around most of the night. And they must have terrible vision because they are constantly ramming you, ramming the TV if it is on, ramming walls and chairs and anything that is in their path.  You close the windows and doors and they still find a way inside.  And perhaps the worst thing about them ... they excrete a dark red fluid that looks a lot like blood and leaves a nasty stain.  And they've got to be really stupid.   They often end up on their backs, and despite the fact they have powerful wings, they don't use them to flip themselves upright.  They will remain on their backs for hours, wiggle their legs as if by magic that will upright them.   It is not uncommon to wake up in the morning and find an army of them on the patio, appearing as though they are doing calisthenics on their back.  The good thing is, they usually don't last much longer than a couple of weeks, but while they are here, they are among the most unwanted creatures we have to endure here.

So yes, it is summer in PV.  And unfortunately, we won't be here much longer to enjoy it.  Next week, we begin the three day trek northward, leaving behind memories of Rizo's and the crunchy June bugs.

*first photo courtesy of PV Mirror, Puerto Vallarta's leading weekly English language newspaper.

The Sickness Surrounding the Religious "Right"

Perhaps you've seen it, or at least heard about.  The demonic type sermon preached to the flock of followers  last week  of the Providence Road Baptist Church in Maiden, N.C. by Pastor Charles L. Worley. It is all over the Internet.  It has been played on CNN.  In case you haven't seen it, here is a link and an article from The Huffington Post:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/22/charles-l-worley-north-carolina-pastor-gay-rights_n_1536039.html


 Basically, the good pastor ranted and raved for quite some time about filthy homosexuals.  He flat out stated that they should be put in camps surrounded by large electric fences, and left to die.   His exact words:  "Build a great, big, large fence -- 150 or 100 mile long -- put all the lesbians in there.  Do the same thing for the queers and the homosexuals and have that fence electrified so they can't get out...and you know what, in a few years, they'll die out...do you know why? They can't reproduce!"   

Most logical and compassionate people would view Worley's comments as vile and contemptible.    Indeed, several human rights organizations have come forth calling for a protest at the church and the company that hosted his church's website has taken it down.    But silent are others who could make an even greater statement against this public call for annihilation of gays and lesbians.  Namely, other churches and pastors across America.

With one of their own spewing such rancid hatred and calling for the extermination of an estimated ten percent of the U.S. population,  why are we not hearing from other religious organizations condemning such volatile and unlawful actions.   The only religious leader that I am aware of who has publicly chastised Worley is Rev. Welton Gaddy, President of Interfaith Alliance.
Speaking to Anderson Cooper on CNN, Gaddy said,  "In one fell swoop this angry minister managed to discredit from his pulpit both the Constitution of the United States and the compassion that we find in the bible, and additionally he did a very dangerous thing by planting seeds of hatred in sick minds that in the right circumstances can act on them and do the kind of violence that has no place in our world."  

That's all well and good, but where are the Catholics? Where are the Mormons?  Where are the Presbyterians?   Where are the other so called religious leaders who espouse love and understanding?   Their silence on issues such as this can only be interpreted by many as an endorsement of Worley's views and desires (though I am sure others may argue that by addressing Worley, even if as a challenge, it would be legitimizing what he has said).

I do know some pastors who may address this issue in their sermons to their local congregations.  Though I have not talked with her, I can imagine a friend of ours in San Diego who leads quite a contemporary congregation would be outraged.   These are pastors who do not at all believe in what Worley stands for, and they have been vocal in their own ways to their smaller gatherings.  They are to be commended.   Still, it would be refreshing if some of them would contact their local TV stations and newspapers before this weekend's services, if indeed they plan to rebel against Worley's hatred.   Let them know the public is welcome to hear them lash out against the bigotry and hurt unleashed by this Baptist church.  It's the type of public religious backlash against this type of hatred  that so far we have not seen.
There's more.  In Worley's sermon, he attacked President Obama.   He told his parishioners, "I'm not going to vote for a baby killer and a homosexual lover!"    That's his prerogative, but since churches, including his, enjoy a tax-exempt status and pay absolutely nothing to keep the government operating, why should those churches have any say in the political process in the U.S.?   Clearly, the Constitution calls for a separation of church and state and when religious organizations become advocates for any particular party or issue, they have violated that separation.   It is time that the justice department began investigating the influence that tax-exempt religious organizations have on the political process (including the large amounts of cash that the Mormon and Catholic churches put into defeating same-sex marriage in California), and if investigators determine that these organizations are indeed advocates for one party, one candidate, or one issue, their tax-exempt status should be revoked, and they should be taxed on income just like any other business.

And when it comes down to it, isn't that what a lot of religion has become in the U.S.?  It is a big business, no longer concerned about helping humanity but rather chastising those who do not fit into their image of what society should be, and by doing so raking in huge amounts of cash.   We will likely never stop the lunatic fringe of religion, the so called "religious right," that has permeated part of America.  But it would be refreshing to hear more mainstream religious organizations denounce the sermons of hate, and bring some true faith back into what has become a dubious sector of Americana.

Donna Summer: Remembering the Last Dance

From city to city, the names would change.   In Stockton, it was The Casbah. In Modesto, the Brave Bull.  In Sacramento, The Powerplant and the Rose.  In Guerneville, The Woods and Fifes.  In San Francisco, Midnight Sun and Moby Dick and Badlands and End-Up.   All different clubs with one thing in common ... the music. 


It was the late 70s, early 80s, and disco was king.   And the gay dance clubs were the center of the universe for the disco divas.  And queen among them ... Donna Summer.
It didn't matter if you were in the greatest dance clubs in the world (like Studio 54), or the back alley bars in smaller towns (like Bogie's in Redding, California), inevitably along with Thelma Houston, Viola Wills, The Village People, Soft Cell, and Michael Jackson, Donna Summer would dominate the music.   Her timeless anthem "Last Dance" more often than not signaling that it was 1:45 AM and closing time was imminent.

Already popular in Europe, it was the DJs at the gay clubs in the United States that first introduced Donna Summer to the US.  From there, her sound moved on to Top 40 AM radio.  She was an instant disco star.   She had 14 Top 10 hits and four number one hits on Billboards Hot 100.

"Love to Love You," "Hot Stuff," "I Feel Love," "MacArthur Park," "With Your Love," "Heaven Knows," "Dim All the Lights," "On the Radio," "She Works Hard for the Money," all continue to be staples clearly representative of the dance era, and songs that even now receive ample airplay on 70s and classic dance stations. 

I do remember with surprise when Donna Summer, the Queen of (Gay) Disco, seemingly turned her back on the community which was largely responsible for her great success.  Becoming a born again Christian, she said "AIDS has been sent by God to punish homosexuals."  The comments at the time created a huge backlash, and though in later years she apologized, her image remained tarnished among many in the community.

But with her surprise passing today of cancer (which she had kept a secret from the public), I prefer to remember the good times she created.  Whether they be on the pulsating high energy dance floor at the Hexagon House at The Woods in Guerneville, the jukebox at Bogie's in Redding, or blaring away on The Big 610 with the top down on the car.    May she find peace in her last dance.