Afghan report...

Since I am to dumb to figure out how to post the report here, please email me at movrmike@gmail.com and I will send you the pdf or the text file.

Thanks!

By the way....this is the unclassified version, so no one will wind up in one of those private jets for a free vacation in Poland.....

Redacted.....

Well.....I called it.

Last week I mentioned that my friends in the military were reporting to the guys in charge that all is not well.

If you are up and on it.....you will read this report before Obama.

Our military guys are really good at what they do.....the politicians, not so much.

Have fun....

Wow.....it turns out the report won't upload.

Email me or comment and I will send you the report.....

Happy 60....

Last year when the union pilot guy landed the jet in the Hudson, I posted a pro-union deal. My right wing friends were all over me: "What would happen if you had a union in your Store?"

I am still a NYC union bartender....and the Union trained me, supported me and kept me on the planet at times when I was in line for the exit...

So, now I am a "Boss".

22 minutes into my 60th year on the planet I just had an argument with one of my workers.

Liz lives in a trailer on the mountain with no power and no water...two horses, a goat and two dogs. Cats don't count. She carries water in plastic buckets to the critters....and to her own self.

She pays child support to a scumbag in Missouri or one of those other M states or square states.....

Her daughter that I know is an honor student at Davis.......

Because she has no power or water, Liz hangs with us after working her 10 hr shift at The Store. We are her TV. She cuts strawbs like an angel....takes just enough off so the stem is gone but the berry doesn't dry out. Liz peels beets. Liz does roll-ups.

I just tried to slip Liz minimum wage for her hours just this past month when she did work for us no one else could do that we really needed, and our rich clients paid us for her to do for them.

Liz got actually mad at me....and stormed out.

"I don't do this for money.....I work because I love you guys......"

Happy Birthday....Someone from my planet....

Shitty City.....

For you non-Facebook folks.....

Part of the local debate...

Hey Guys-
can you please humor me with what is probably a stupid question...

ok- so i know the vote for incorporation is coming up, i know where you and most everyone i know stands on the issue, including me.

but i am slightly confused.
the head of the carmel residence association showed up at the Habitat the other day with a Weekly reporter and they were looking at the detrimental impacts that the Rancho development would have on the Habitat project, stating that IF the incorporation went through, the Rancho project would be dead in the water. which is good for the Habitat, as you can understand we DO NOT want this rancho project to happen, as it will SERIOUSLY impact our property and programs.... but runs contrary to the general opinion.... ?
can you guys clarify ?

thanks for answering my political dodo question.... .

I was going to refer you to a post on my blog....but it disappeared!

I am semi-neutral on this deal, or at least not as passionate as Lee and Scott. My long experience with corrupt politicians and officials leads me to have more faith in established functioning corrupt systems than one might expect.

The reality of politics in Monterey County is that there are indeed only five supervisors. Just like the US Senate, none of them will shit in another's well without huge provocation. The odds of a giant development happening on Potter's watch...whatever pull other supes have with Tony Lombardo, etc are the Chance Brothers: Slim and None.

The idea of swapping this system for one with five neophyte rich, over-educated, under-employed nouveau politicians who would yield the same kind of power turns me off.

These folk are the kind of people you see in Whole Foods. They miss the big picture of their favorite store being based out of Texas and run by an anti-labor, anti-public option oligarch scumbag. Our words for Whole Foods: White...Hypochondriacal...Over-educated.....Lame.....Egotistical.....Ferociously Obnoxious Overbearing Douche BagS.....

I celebrate the old Valley.....Japanese pear and strawberry farmers whose kids hid in Hatton Canyon during the war rather than go to the camps.....and who built baseball fields at Carmelo. Bill's egg ranch behind Chateau New Jersey. The Berta's.....not a bad development, even though the family got screwed. Jim Gregg's place at mid-Valley you probably don't even know about....

Someone point out to me the new dam in Cachagua. Where is that, exactly?

OK, we did get screwed on Rancho San Carlos.....but did we really? I think the dummies that paid huge dough for McMansions and will be paying ridiculous property tax for generations are the real screwee's.

OK, Carmel Valley Ranch kind of sucks........

All this was done on with the present system.

Years ago, Papa Nick Lombardo had an option on the Odello Ranch and supposedly one on the Palo Corona. I was a member of the Restaurant Association and actually used to go to meetings.

Papa Nick showed up one day with Tony and a few other joyous folk like architect Paul "Complete Fucking Scumbag" Davis (who has a street in an industrial complex in Marina named for him).....

They had done a study. The plan was to close Carmel to vehicular traffic and bus people in and out from a hub at the Odello Ranch. There would also be a cheap and cheery old folks home there, with a strip mall, lots of parking for the busses and tourists, and a nine hole pitch and putt for the alte-kochers.

Everyone oooed and aahhhed at the beautiful architect's rendition of the project.......

Question and answer period followed.

They actually called upon my raised hand.....Dummies.

"Mr. Lombardo....I have just one question.

"The project is awesome.....but really. What kind of drugs are you on.....and where can I buy some?"

Dead silence.....except for the scratching of the various minions writing my name down for future punishment.

What happened to Odello/Corona in the end?

Clint stepped up (Alan Williams as his front, as always) and bought the property. He worked a deal to transfer the water credits to Tehama and gave Odello to BSLT. Palo Corona followed suit.

To my addled crypto-Republican sensibilities.....Tehama is perhaps the best possible use of that land, and that water. Beats hell out of parking lots, strip malls, altekcochers and shitty golf. We have actual clients at Tehama.....and so do all my friends. And you wouldn't even know it was there if you weren't driving in on someone else's nickel.

And of course the Odello piece is now back being dry-farmed organically......with rent flowing in to BSLT. I was there Saturday, cooking the produce and giving speeches to the Board.

Can you picture this kind of complicated resolution happening in a city scenario?

And.....why fuck with the political scenario that allowed this to happen?

My dad always told me that carburetor is a French word meaning: "Don't fuck with it....."

Exactly.

Slowly drilling holes in our own heads......

I submit this chart without comment.....

Well, one comment.

I know....I have posted this before.

A friend of ours just returned from Afghanistan where he was sent to do an assessment of the war for General McChrystal.

It was the first time in eight years anyone had done a comprehensive assessment of the war.

Without violating confidences......here were some random comments:

There are five types of Afghani leaders: 1) violent, radical religionists; 2) potentially violent drug lords; 3) secular corrupt politicians; 4) sincere religionists; 5) none of the above.

I am paraphrasing......

In everyday contact he found that at any given meeting each and every person would be at least two of the above....and sometimes all five.

There are at least a half dozen military commands there: the UN, us, Denmark, the Brits, the Germans, the Afghans.....who knows.

Each military has a completely different operational command and way of doing business. Leaders may meet and agree on policy....but as policy passes down the chain of command to the folks who actually do the work it becomes chaotically garbled.

As an example....go to babelfish translation and type in any random thing: "I took my dog for a walk in the woods and he chased a stud bull which angered the farmer." Translate from English into Italian, then from Italian to German, then back to English.

Our friend discovered the best way to find out what was going on was to talk to the generals.....and immediately verify everything with the various master sergeants who actually run things.

Our friend did not reveal his recommendations to General McC.......

"It is pre-decisional....."

So without further comment....and with thanks to Bill Murphy, Jr.

If you haven't read his book "In a Time of War"...be ashamed.

Or just call me. I have ten copies.

In The Arms of Your Angel...

We are now just on the cusp of 9/11/01......

Somewhere tomorrow you will hear Sarah McLachlan singing "Angel".....

Somehow the song has linked up with 9/11....

My own 9/11 experiences have kept me still spinning even now.....my own pathetic suburban PTSD version of actual pain and loss.....

Somehow my restaurant friends kept me from actually dying that day when I was in New York mourning my brother's death....

I missed being a part of history on Flight 93 because an old school French prick I used to work with spotted me on the street and recognized my loss and pain at a distance of 50m and ten years..... and swooped me up and annointed me with Calvados and Champagne.....

And caused me to miss my flight.....

That collision of culture, hard work and working class loyalty that diverted me and saved me still keeps me going.

The actual song "Angel" is not so much about salvation.....but about heroin.

Sarah McLahlan had a problem....or her guitar guy had a problem......or they both did.

Whatever.

Not to take away from one of the greatest voices in Christendom....or a beautiful song...

But eight years out....I have conceded the terrorist thing.....and spend all my time dealing with the heroin thing...

Watching your loved ones and workers being sucked into a vortex that makes 9/11 seem tame

Even so.....

Pretend I have a friend who is a hard core rock climber and was enrolled in a hard core University on 9/11.

He and his friends were sent 100 miles south to help with climbing, setting rigs and recovering bodies after the attack. He wound up working mostly with a fire station from Staten Island....trying to find and pull out their guys.

It was a no-go.

I had soccer guys trapped in NYC that week whose volunteer work involved hiding in the wreckage pretending to be corpses.

There was nothing enough left of any of the three thousand people who had perished that would give the cadaver dogs enough of a sense of accomplishment that could keep them going forward. Kids were hired to hide in the wreckage to cheer up the cadaver dogs with some sense of success in the midst of hopelessness

Anyway.....my rock-climbing friend found no one, and saved no one.

But he got a T-shirt....from a Staten Island Fire Company......

Eight years later, he wore it one day when we were working with some Stanford kids.

One of the girls had the same shirt......

Her dad was one of the fireman my friend had spent a week searching for in vain......

They wound up talking late into the night......while I waited and watched.

There were lots of tears......my friend is comfortable with tears since he lost one of his eyes and half his face later in Fallujah, not to mention the whole lung thing he won't talk about ......and his fake eye weeps whether he wants it to or not.....

The girl found a connection with my friend.....

She had been so angry with her dad for having had a job that took him away from her.... when she really needed him.......Everyone else had a dad, goddammit!

Until she met my friend......

An actual living, breathing hero......just like her dad.....

She came out of the connection with a sense of peace and release....

So.....if the signature song of 9/11 is actually about heroin and release.....

And heroin rules and ruins our life every single day.....

I hear God laughing.....

But......there are still actual angels out there......

And I was priveledged to watch one in action.......

I still challenge you to listen to the song without tearing up.....

Now that you know the back story.....

You spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For the break that would make it okay....

There's always one reason
To feel not good enough...
And it's hard at the end of the day.

I need some distraction.....
Oh beautiful release....
Memories seep from my veins.

Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight.....

In the arms of the angel....
Fly away from here....

From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear....

You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie.....

You're in the arms of your angel
May you find some comfort here...

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn......
There's vultures and thieves at your back.

And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack.

It don't make no difference
Escaping one last time
It's easier to believe.....in this sweet madness
oh.....
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here.

From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear.

You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie...........

You're in the arms of the angel............

May you find...... some comfort here......

You're in the arms of your angel.....

May you find some comfort.....

Here.......

The Worst Job In The World.......

Is not on a crab boat in the Alaskan seas......

This is for Doug McCall.....and Robin, and the legions of foot soldiers that keep us medicated and in business.