Friending Blackie

Hi. Remember me. I'm Mocha Java and I just turned two. I've been with my human family, Terry and Betsy, for one year. I've learned so much. They use different words than I'd heard before. And I've taught them so much. Let's just look at one difference.

A new kitty came to visit a few weeks ago. He's all black with cute white paws, just like mine. He peeked into the basement door one day. It was early in the morning, but I'd been playing with my mouse for about an hour. I dashed downstairs and saw a new face looking in my door. I hissed and whipped my tail back and forth. I hadn't invited this new guy. He needed to learn some manners. He sat, his tail wrapped around his paws. He didn't move. I lay down, my tail in a straight line behind me. My female human came looking for me. I didn't break the staring contest with Blackie. I also didn't growl or hiss at him. He needed to learn a lesson about coming onto my lower deck. After a very long time, he stood, stretched and walked away. I'd won.


Two weeks later Blackie came back. This time I was on the outside steps down to the lake. He pranced his way through fallen leaves and jumped up on a step a few lower than were I was sitting. He didn't ask if it was all right. So, I puffed up my tail and started walking toward him. He held his ground for a few steps before he bolted back the way he came. I chased him. Then, I crouched in the leaves about fifteen feet away from him. We stayed that way for a long time. 


Eventually, Blackie crept back toward me. I let him get close. I gradually backed up to a large tree and settled down. It took a while, some more growling and tail whipping before I let Blackie lie down on the other side of my tree.

What this is all about is friending a kitty, kitty-style. Both my humans talk about friending people of Facebook, whatever that is. I don't think I have a Facebook. But I do have a friend in Blackie. If he doesn't get too close and if he behaves, he's welcome to visit.

So, I know how to friend kitties. Now, what is all this stuff about the "terrible twos." I need to know so that I behave right, don't I?

How's It Working For Ya?

If you are like me, you're probably weary of the ongoing debate about extending the Bush-era tax cuts for another year. That would push any real decision on tax policies out past the current election cycle.

Let's take a quick look at one of the arguments about extending these cuts. One party says these cuts are absolutely necessary for the wealthy, because it is the wealthy who create jobs. Really?

The other party wants to increase taxes on the rich, so that they pay more. The rationale seems to be: they earn more, so they should pay more.

Now, these tax cuts went into law in 2001 and 2003, were extended in 2005 and several times afterwards. They were supposed to sunset in 2010. They were extended twice since the sunset clause was thrown out. And now we have both parties want to keep them in place for another year.

So, we have a disconnect between wanting to put more money in the pockets of the rich, who are supposed to be creating jobs so the unemployed can find these new jobs and add to the tax pool, and the real fact that jobs are not being created by individuals. They are created by corporations. Oh wait, I forget. Corporations are people. Well, dang. There goes that argument. But, the current debate is not about reducing corporate tax structures but about keeping tax rates low on the rich.

I'm not rich. I'm not poor. I'm middle class, part of the 99% club. I have friends that are searching for jobs. They don't want a hand out. They want to work. They don't want to see the rich piling up what could be tax money in their personal accounts.

Corporations are sitting on piles of money. They are unwilling to spend, because they don't see any buyers for their goods and services. Without people out there with money to buy the goods and services, we won't see much of an economic recovery. We'll continue pushing out tax cuts and deepening the deficit. And the vicious circle goes ever on and on.

We can't have it both ways. Either we accept the fact that tax cuts have not shown benefits in creating jobs or we don't. Either we face the fact that tax cuts in general add to the deficit or we don't. Either we accept that we pander to the political climate and push bad policies in order to get elected or re-elected or we don't.

Regardless of how this plays out, I have some questions. Are you finding it easier to find work because the tax cuts on the rich are creating jobs? Are the jobs popping up all over the place? Is the jobless rate tumbling below 8%? Are you part of rebuilding the economy through employment and paying your taxes? Probably not.

So, let me close with this last question: How are the current tax cuts working for ya?

Sex and College Sports

As many of us did, I followed the Jerry Sandusky pedophilia trial with mixed emotions. I didn't sit in that courtroom. I didn't hear the testimony. I watched the verdict when it was returned. And it brought back a memory I'd rather not think about.

Those of you who read this blog may remember an earlier post where I ended with "I was raped."

I was. On my college campus. In the classroom where I taught Freshman Composition. By a football player. Two weeks before the Rose Bowl game.

The player, a starter on the team, came into class with a form for my signature. He wanted me to give him a passing grade so that he could play in the bowl game. He was riding a solid F, because he'd only been in class three times all term, had never turned in a lick of work. I told him to stay after class when I fully intended to tell him why I couldn't sign his eligibility form.

Instead, this starring player decided I wanted to have sex with him. He told me so during the attack and afterwards. He attacked me on my desk, raped me and left.

I went to the campus health clinic, had a rape kit done, filed a report with the campus rent-a-cop, and another with the real police.

And then I marched the eligibility paper and copies of both reports into the head coach's office. I pitched a major league fit until he saw me. He brushed off my claim until I made him call the player into his office. I faced my attacker and the coach and proved the player had attacked me. His right had was wrapped in a bandage. Under it was an infected bite. A deep one in the webbing between thumb and forefinger. So deep that my teeth went through that webbing. The player said I liked rough sex and he was just giving me what I asked for.

The coach believed the attack happened. Hard to ignore a pus-filled hand. He had someone else sign the eligibility form. My attacker played in the bowl game. My university lost. I couldn't have been happier. The player left school immediately after the game, never charged with a felony.

I often wonder what happened to him. I should Google his name to find out what prison he's in, but I just don't care. The system let me down, but by biting him, I left a mark that won't go away.

He didn't leave a similar mark on me. I survived his rape and moved on. May Sandusky's victims find the same strength and move past this. Sandusky won't.

A Sheriff Rode into Town

A few decades ago, a tall sheriff rode into town on his mighty white horse, leaned on his saddle horn, looked around and smiled.

"This is a wonderful green and gold area with lots of money, lots of jobs and low taxes. I can make it better."

The sheriff won election to a high office. He reviewed the state budget, which had a surplus, and started spending. He looked at the jobs and saw that many were low-paying and filled by people who did not have legal papers to be in the state. He saw that surrounding states had many more poor people than his green and gold state did, so he invited them to move into his state and apply for welfare. He started new projects that would help the people.

Soon the budget was empty. In fact, the sheriff had spent more money than he had, so he raised taxes. A lot, to cover his spending shortfalls.

When he thought he'd done all he could for the green and gold state, he looked around for more challenges. He saw that the greater land needed his magic touch, so he ran for national office. It took a couple of tries, but he won over common sense with wonderful rhetoric. He called out the menace of a red foe trying to destroy our way of life. He promised to build up the military to fight this foe at its doors, not on our shores. He promised to keep taxes low. He promised to keep government small.  He promised many things, and he was elected.

The people were taken in for a long time. The sheriff did to the greater land what he had done for the green and gold state. He raised taxes, built up the military more than necessary, threw money at government projects and spent more money than he had.

The sheriff is long gone, but his memory lives on. Some of the new sheriff-wanna-bes ride through the land evoking his name and calling for a return to his policies.

If the people of the greater land listen to the new sheriff-wanna-bes and select them, the greater land will continue budget deficits, high costs for a military it no longer needs, spending on government projects and high taxes.

And that, dear readers, is a parable on what Reaganomics did for the green and gold state of California and the greater land of the United States.