Eight Feet Deep

Yes, the absurd and meaningless rhetoric coming from all sides during this mid-term election campaign is scary.

John Kerry was, for whatever variety of reasons, unable to win the presidency in 2004 but he was at least astute enough to have been elected as a U.S. senator. As such, that makes him a fairly decent politician no matter what else you think or don’t think about him.

So if you honestly believe that Kerry was dissing American troops in Iraq during his controversial remarks a few days ago, then I feel sorry for you. And if you also believe that the big s*itstorm over his remarks that was fueled by the Republican attack machine was anything other than politics, I feel even more sorry for you.

The controversy over Kerry’s remarks is just one more instance of both Democrats and Republicans flailing one another with whatever bomb, significant or insignificant, they can throw at the other. Both sides come off of crap like this looking tremendously silly although — and to my many Republican friends, nothing personal — the G.O.P. has usually maintained a sharp edge in the silly department overall.

It seems like politicians would rather crawl over miles of broken glass than bother with meaningful discussions of the issues. And while I freely admit to being a political junkie who devours each hair-raising twist and turn of such an election, I just get a little overdosed on the faux drama for the sake of advantage.

It’s been fun but I now am ready for this election to be done. Sadly, I don’t think it’s going to be done when we all wake up on Nov. 8. I foresee more silliness. It makes me wonder when our country will ever grow up and grow into the nation of which our founding dads left for us to fill in the blanks? I don’t know the answer to that unless it is: probably never. Oh well, it was a good thought.

I was searching the Web earlier this afternoon for an old Navy friend and had the misfortune of finding his obituary in the Pensacola newspaper. James F. “Buddy” Lassiter died Sept. 1, 2006, at the age of 56.

My friend, Buffalo Bob Mayes who is also now deceased, introduced me to Buddy after they returned from an overseas deployment with Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 62 to the Seabee base in Gulfport, Miss., where we were stationed. Bob, Buddy and I used to hang quite a bit back then, now some 30 years ago.

I saw Bob a few times after I got out of the service. I visited Buddy once in Pensacola and talked to him on the phone a few times in the intervening years. We exchanged e-mails a few years ago. As happens, we just kind of drifted apart. Buddy was one of my few close friends who stayed in the Navy for the long haul. He retired several years ago as a master chief utilitiesman, as high as you can go in the enlisted ranks.

Buddy served in the Army in Vietnam and with the Seabees in Iraq I. He was a funny guy with a mischievous air about him. Just because one drifts apart from friends doesn’t necessarily lessen a friendship and certainly doesn’t detract from the great memories one accumulates. We had some good times together. Later Buddy.

New evidence indicates that Americans have finally lost their minds. Exhibit A is the popularity of ABC Television’s “Dancing With the Stars.”

This show is apparently just one version of an international conspiracy to drive the world mad which all started with a BBC program. You just have to watch those Brits. You never know what kind of craziness they’ll start next.

What is patently bizarre about the U.S. version of this televised dance contest is its “stars” who are probably some of people one would least think of as dancers. For instance this season has included conservative pundit Tucker Carlson and combat-talk show host Jerry Springer, both of whom have been voted off the island.

Former NFL star running back Emmett Smith, who remains a contender on the show, is also not the first person to pop up in one’s head when envisioning mahvelous dancers. So, yes, “Dancing With the Stars” proves we as a society have finally plunged over the deep end to a dark and dismal abyss. One-two-three-four, one-two-three four …

With television, an industry which franchises successful concepts to an extent Ray Krok would have envied, it is only a matter of time that we will begin to see new programs which are a variation of the parent theme of “Dancing With the Stars.” New shows on the horizons may include:

“Stars Dancing With Dangerous Wild Animals”
“When Dangerous Animals Attack Dancing Stars”
“Dancing With the Terrorist Leaders” (Featuring an Osama bin Laden cameo)
“Dancing With Bill O’Reilly”
“The Southern Baptist Dance Hour”
“Dancing With the Teletubbies”

Well, it could just go on and on and on. It’s not a pretty prospect and just might lead to the end of civilization as we know it. One-two-three …

Everything doesn’t necessarily look worse in black and white as Paul Simon contends in “Kodachrome.” And not everything the government touches turns to s*it. These are the truisms I gather looking at old B & W photos from the Library of Congress Web site. The below shots in particular come from the Farm Security Administration-Office of War Information Collection. The collection features tons of photos chronicling the Great Depression, Dust Bowl and World War II Years.

Children playing in Lafayette, La., by Russell Lee.

Russell Lee was one of the photographers who was part of the government-sponsored FSA-OSI photography project. I always admired how he could bring out the character and personality of his subjects such as in this shot below.

East Texan, Jacksonville, Texas, by Russell Lee.

John Vachon was, likewise, a master at making every picture tell a story. As in this photograph from during World War II in my old stomping grounds of Beaumont, Texas, proves.

A woman mechanic for the transit system in Beaumont, Texas, uses a hoist, by John Vachon.

A number of political conservatives of the current and past ilk find some sort of “creeping socialism” in the New Deal programs that put many back to work after the Depression. Among those who were given jobs were artists. But a nation without history is a nation without its soul. And photographers like Lee and Vachon — through the government programs — left us images of our historical soul in what were some dark times in the old U.S.A.

The fact that these images of our past remain and they are accessible freely through the Web makes me think that such projects can be listed if someone ever asks you: What good is our government? Of course, the other good that the government does is printing wonderfully wacky images on their paper money. An eye on top of the pyramid (back of the $1 bill)? What were those folks smoking?

The candles on my birthday cake get a little out of hand.

Tomorrow I turn 51. It’s bad enough to say that you are half-a-century old but even worse to say that you are more than half-a-century old. Be that as it may, I have more than enough stuff to depress me so I am not going to let another birthday get me down.

I know all the cliches: You’re as old as you feel, blah, blah, blah. I have to admit that my mind still feels relatively young even though the living medical laboratory that is my arthritic cervical spine tries to dash those feelings quite frequently. But I’ve had fun, had a few laughs, seen a few weird things in my time and almost got arrested for kissing a girl after Wurstfest in Gruene Hall. So I don’t think I have any right to rail about getting older. Besides, what in the hell can I do about it — popsiclyze myself like Ted Williams? Hey, many are cold but few are frozen. I’ve always wanted to use that saying and damned if I didn’t fit it in.

So I am taking the weekend off. Happy freaking birthday to me.