Vacation 2012: Hiking in the Yosemite

 









I have to make this brief because I'm traveling tomorrow so I'm packing tonight. That means doing laundry, because I hate packing dirty clothes. They give the remaining clothes that next day spilled beer smell. I need to bring a personal staff on the road.

Oh, and its back to the normal, "everything is horrible" style you've come to know and love.

So, let's get on to the never-ending Yosemite hiking saga.

Yesterday I hiked to the North Dome, which provides incredible Valley views as well as views of Half Dome and Clouds Rest. It took around six hours, 45 minutes of which I spend at the top marveling at the absolutely sublime scenery. North Dome, as the name implies, lies on the valley's north side, just across the Merced River from Half Dome. The hike mostly runs through the same kind of forest I've been seeing for nearly a week now, until the woods clear near the Dome. You have to hike another half hour or so once the Dome comes within sight, with the trail leading down another higher granite point to reach the Dome itself. The last part of the trail leading to the Dome is quite steep. I saw an elderly woman returning back up that grade, and she didn't look like she was doing so well. But she was with two other somewhat younger friends; the youngest of whom made it a point to tell me about her getting together with her "girlfriends" from Mammoth Lakes, while she was from Santa Barbara and the altitude was killing her at which point in the story I lost consciousness (at what age do you go from being a "girlfriend" to "Old Lady [insert name here]? Probably the same age at which men stop having a"girlfriend" and start having a "special friend"). And while we're at it, how exactly have I been giving off the "please tell me your life story in slow, vivid detail" vibe? Cause that seems to be happening more and more and it needs to come to a screeching, airbag-deploying halt. Getting back to the original point, its really not possible to convey the enormity of the sights one finds at North Dome. Not even the tons of photos I took really can do it justice.

This hike wasn't quite as bad as the day before, going to Taft Point, which ran nearly straight up for almost three hours. Today's hike had a fairly even number of hills and downhills, until you reach the Dome itself. The top was 7,525 feet in elevation, and the hike started at 6,000 feet. I met a guy at the trailhead parking lot who was finishing as I arrived. He said it only took him three hours round trip. Jerk. It took me twice that long. I started around the same time as this weird group of twenty-something kids, probably closer to 20 than 29. They all resembled former high school Science Fair winners who also had minor roles in the Drama Club trying to meet more people. Minor roles. Like "second butler."  Nearly every one was wearing glasses (hey, losers, its 2012, get some lasik). This one stork-looking dude wore extremely tight, short biker pants and vibram footsies (or whatever they are), which made for a very unfortunate sight. His Blossom-looking girlfriend likewise wore the same. Basically it was like being with the Big Bang Theory cast. With similar-looking nerd girlfriends. I don't think it was some kind of live action role playing deal; they did seem like characters, but there wasn't a script as they kept talking about the things around them. One of them, who seemed like their leader, did seem like he had some modicum of swag. [Sidebar: I intend to incorporate the term "swag" into my speech patterns for the next few weeks, so the kids will think I'm cool. But not "bro"; "bro" is dead to me]. Or at least, he would have had something if he weren't wearing a painter's hat. They would hike for awhile, each one no doubt secretly wishing they were the Fellowship of the Ring, then stop, then restart, the whole time. This meant I was passing them, and they were passing me, and I was passing them, the whole time. This odd procession sort of resembled all those freaks in the "I Am the Walrus" scene in the Magical Mystery Tour. Whatever, hope they enjoyed the trip back to Cal Tech (what up, Terry?). Anyway, the Dome itself resembled Enchanted Rock. Just a huge granite outcropping, albeit white rather than pink. The top was very windy, making it imperative to stay a healthy distance from the edge. And to tighten my irreplaceable sweat stained "Texas Football" hiking hat.  Along the way back I detoured slightly to see the "Indian Rock," Yosemite's only natural arch. It didn't resemble the arches in Arches National Park, or in Roadrunner cartoons, though it did kind of look like the arch/time portal in that Star Trek episode where Kirk got together with peacenik Joan Collins. You know, where McCoy went temporarily insane and beamed down to the Planet of the Week, where everyone had gone back in time through this arch looking device, so Kirk and Spock went after him and met up with pre-Dynasty Joan Collins who ran a soup kitchen and campaigned against wars. Basically Jean Simmons' character in Guys and Dolls, but with more time travel and less Brando. Kirk spends well over 20 minutes seducing Joan, who made a valiant effort resisting the Captain (this is about 15 minutes longer than it usually takes him; really only the Fonz worked faster, on network TV at least), but its time well spent because we get to see Spock building a TV set from his tricorder, and watching TV even though they had gone to a time before there were any TV broadcasts. Sadly, Joan was nowhere near my arch.

[Yes, I realize the irony of calling a bunch of other people losers, while in the same paragraph providing a finely detailed summary of a Star Trek episode. I meant to do that.]

Today (well, now its yesterday) I intended to take a lower-intensity hike, consisting of the full, yet relatively flat, 13 mile Valley loop trail. This trail shows you everything along the Valley floor. It didn't disappoint from that perspective. The hike, which appears to follow some old roads leading in to the Valley, runs alongside all the famous Yosemite Valley features, offering extremely close up views: El Capitan, Cathedral Rocks, Cathedral Spires, Bridalveil Falls, Sentinel Dome, Taft Point. It also tracks the Merced River, which essentially runs right down the middle of the Valley. The River's cold, clear green water, flowing very gently over smooth river rock, made for some really nice views as well. Unfortunately, the river and various little tributary creeks leading from several falls to the river also attracted a lot of late summer flies bent on having me for lunch. They weren't too persistent or difficult though; everyone who grew up on the Gulf Coast has suffered a lot worse during mosquito season. Which basically is year round. Thanks new Houston mayor whose name I forget that decided to stop spraying mosquitoes so she could fund some other totally useless project that pleases her special interest buddies' agenda. Thanks for turning Houston into West Nile, Texas. Here, however, the flies kind of hover around and irritate you but don't seem to bite. The trees near the river banks were also quite attractive, including thick numbers of both mature and younger maples, whose leaves have yet to turn. What didn't work, however, was my right foot. Six days of constant hiking pretty much did in my little toe (you know, the piggy that went home, or to market, I guess it depends on which one you start with), and the thing has swelled up like a Vienna Sausage gone bad (err, "worse"). You wouldn't think your little toe could cause that much pain. Witness the Nihilists' girlfriend in the Big Lebowski who (spoiler alert) gives her little toe for the cause. But little toe pain can get pretty bad. The little toe, after all, forms the crucial bulwark of the outer "toe perimeter," or something, so jamming it inside relatively inflexible hiking boots all week tends to take its toll. So I was pretty much hobbling during most of the time like someone had shot my foot. Or it fell asleep while I was sitting at my desk. This made it a little difficult to appreciate all the amazing scenery. Go figure. I shut it down after about nine miles. Despite the thick crowds in the Village and at other bus stop sites, I didn't see more than 10 people on the entire trail the whole afternoon.

Tonight, for the first time since I arrived, I had a chance to enjoy the clear night sky. The moon has been rising steadily later each night, and tonight the moon didn't appear until quite late. Even with the lights around the Lodge, the sky was thick with stars. Even the Milky Way came out. That was a rare treat for someone who lives in the middle of a city.

OK, I think that about does it for Yosemite. Truly its God's Studio. The sights here simply marvel and amaze. You may go places that boast one thing more beautiful than something here, but I can't recall any place where almost every turn reveals unsurpassed natural beauty like Yosemite. Well, except Pasadena, of course. Nothing could be keener than to be in Pasadena.

Next-on to Monterey, California and the California Coast.

Vacation 2012: Happy Talking Fun Yosemite Trip

 

[ed. note. Looking back at the last couple of posts, I've described my trip somewhat negatively. Once again. People have...noticed. Well, that's just stinkin' thinkin', no fun to read, and doesn't exhibit the true vacation spirit. So today's post will reflect a Kenneth Parcells style: happy, fun, fluffy kitties, Easter eggs, and surprise chocolate all wrapped up in one. Happy Talk...talk about things you like to do....]

Well yesterday and today were just two more super fabulous fun days in one of the most beautiful places anywhere. Another opportunity to enjoy time with fine people from all over the world who've come here, to this special place, to commune with nature and together strengthen humanity. I've been just dying to tell you all about the totally awesome fine time I've had recently. It would only have been better if I could have taken all of you with me and we could have been together the whole time having laughs and singing songs as we walk along the trails.

Yesterday, after taking lots of pictures at "Tunnel View," I hiked to "Inspiration Point" and "Stanford Point." All these spots provide postcard-quality views of the Yosemite Valley, including such landmarks as El Capitan, Half Dome, Mount Hoffman, Bridalveil Falls, and the Valley floor. That's one of the two photos above. Even better, cars and tour buses can easily access the Tunnel View, located right next to a tunnel on Highway 41. So I was blessed with the chance to share this incredible experience with dozens of happy, excited tourists from all over the world. They spoke different languages, smoked a wide variety of cigarettes, and walked around all over the place taking pictures of everything as their little children shrieked and exclaimed with childhood exuberance. Many of them honored me by asking me to use their own cameras to take their pictures, which I totally didn't mind at all because even though I was trying to start my hike, the day is always long enough to make new friends and send people along their way with a special little "hey you, I hope you have a wonderful day!"

Anyway, my hike started at around 4,500 feet and took me to around 6,600 feet at the top near Stanford Point. Its basically a three hour scramble up the valley wall, going up a steep grade nearly the whole time. At first the trail runs through mixed country, with bushes and pine and fir trees, including rocks and other scrub along the ground. Later, it includes more ferns and leafy ground vegetation, with some redwoods. The richer vegetation owes to several creeks running from the top. The whole effect turns the forest Kermit the Frog green. The ascent is challenging and I was breathing pretty hard the whole way. But in a soul nourishing, commune with nature kind of way that enriches the soul and teaches respect for God and the earth, and every creature living in the forest. I had the extra special good fortune to get lost during the first five minutes, as I missed the trail marking. It took me around 20 minutes to figure out I had missed the trail, during which time I got scratched up pretty good trying to get past the bushes. But this just gave me a chance to experience scenery most people don't ever see up close, and to stay super close to the trees, the plants, and the insects that greeted a rare visitor. The guide book I had consulted rated this trail as "moderate" difficulty, which failed to capture its true character. There's even more good fortune, the happy surprise of encountering an unexpected physical challenge. Makes me stronger; helps me live longer. Stanford Point basically consists of bare escarpment jutting out over the Valley. You can see most of the Yosemite Valley, as long as you make sure not to get too close to the edge. Otherwise you see way TOO much. Oh, sorry, that was negative. Well, I won't let that happen again. Anyway, I ate lunch there, and certainly took lots of photos so that all my readers and friends can have just as much fun as I did. When I turned back it began to rain softly. The rain falling on the leafy canopy and ground plants created a really nice whooshing sound, making the risk of ruining my new camera totally worthwhile. And even more fortuitous, I didn't experience the same right foot pain that I did the day before. So it didn't hurt, that much, going back down the steep downhill grade. Overall, the hike was formidable but the views made it quite satisfying. Yet another positive, happy Yosemite vacation day.

I designated the next day, today (where I am at least), as Mellow Day. Not being 21 anymore, which is so awesome because I've had so many great experiences with totally cool people for all these years, my body needed a little time to recover and regain strength. So I slept in a little bit and had a leisurely breakfast, fortifying my positive attitude and renewing my "A-OK" vacation spirit. I noticed that people have continued coming to Yosemite, braving the hantavirus situation just like me, which makes it an even more special experience to enjoy during this particular time.

Today I visited three locations: the turn of the (last) century Wawona Hotel, the Mariposa Grove of giant sequoias, and Taft Point.

The hotel is a designated National Landmark. It resembles an old Southern hotel, with wood construction and huge two story porch along the entire building. It also has some outbuildings, including the Moore Cottage which resembles a large private home. The hotel seems to reflect an early attempt to build a "resort" within the Park borders, along with tennis courts, a nine hole golf course, an excellent dining room and full hotel staff. The grounds were very attractive, and after returning from the sequoia grove I sat in a wicker rocking chair for a few minutes jotting notes and looking through my guide book. I could have stayed even longer, which would have been consistent with Mellow Day, but the dry warm breeze and the quiet surroundings (only a few people were on the porch and they were playing cards) would have put me to sleep and I'd have missed the opportunity to see even more stupefying portions of the Park. Its like the time I went to Savannah during October, and fell asleep in the afternoon heat while sitting on one of the old town square benches. I fall asleep, sometimes. Just not at night. But that's just another relaxing way to experience fantastic surroundings.

Preceding the hotel, I toured the giant sequoia grove. Giant sequoias are the largest trees in the world, and can live to the oldest ages of any life. They grow only in the Sierras in eastern California. Yosemite features several groves, owing to a successful late 19th century struggle to preserve them from logging. The sequoias can only grow in extremely limited conditions, present only in the Sierras. They are incredibly resistant to fire, and even depend on it to help open up their seeds and drive off predators and rival trees. And they're huge; check my photos. They absolutely dwarf other trees and people. Tons of people speaking all different languages were visiting the grove. I rode a shuttle bus from the hotel, with one extended Spanish family with lots of kids acting boisterously. Those kids were so overcome with excitement to see big trees. And it was great that their parents didn't try to rein in their youthful joy and stunt their emotional development by urging them to keep still and stay quiet, not even when the bus driver was making announcements about the grove and return arrangements. I had absolutely no desire to reach for my death ray gun and start shooting. I stayed about an hour and a half, wandering about the grove and enjoying the sequoias' dominating presence. During the walk, a large branch came crashing down right next to the trail, scaring a nearby woman to the point of causing her to scream about as loudly as the actual crash that provoked it. But how fortunate that she, and everyone else nearby, could experience this wonderful natural reality firsthand.

From there I went to the hotel, then to Taft Point. This is across the valley from El Capitan, also extending out into the valley. The Point is located on the Glacier Point road, about half an hour from Wawona and at a much greater elevation. The temperature dropped about 10 degrees. It was still hot but much more bearable. Not that it was unpleasant or uncomfortable before, of course, because any temperature is great in Yosemite. The trail leading to Taft Point runs for about a mile, easily reached within half an hour. It also has a number of interesting rock fissures, resulting from natural weathering.  Taft Point also has incredible views, again as shown in my photos.

So today was a rewarding, happy, fun, and positive experience that in no way was anything less than totally amazing.

Tomorrow: North Dome. Not "Notre Dame."

Vacation 2012: "But We Are Old"

During the last couple of days I've made my way through DQ Country to Yosemite and spent a couple of days here, taking some arduous hikes. Here's how it happened.

Labor Day became Travel Day. It took around six hours door to door to get to the Yosemite Lodge. Kimberly and I first had breakfast at Fat Apples, where we had lunch on Saturday. After doing some wash and saying our goodbyes, I headed east. My hoped for idyllic top down drive all the way to Yosemite survived only for a couple of hours though, as 98 degree heat soon overtook me. Just outside of Oakland, it suddenly turned into Northwest Texas. Just rolling, scrubby, burned hills...the proverbial miles and miles of miles. I didn't need that, for sure. So somewhere around Tracy, CA, I put the top up. Waste of good money. Well, it'll come in handy when I get to Monterey. By the way, this place is like militia country. What the hell is going on out here that these people feel the need to live on the surface of the Sun? You'd think they were somehow involved in agriculture. But based on my stop at the local Wendy's, unless illiteracy and meth counts as agriculture, that's not what they're doing. The other Mustang I parked next to...yeah, it had a permanent Raiders emblem on both sides. 'Nuff said.

Around Oakdale, the scrub seemed to give way. Oakdale seems like a nice little American town. It has a four lane road and a Starbuck's (the internationally recognized sign of municipal prominence). Maybe Oakdale wasn't sufficiently charming to stop, but I did want to go to the House of Beef (specializing in seasoned sirloin tri-tip). As I posted earlier, a House of Beef may not be structurally sound, but it sure would be tasty.

After Oakdale, agriculture proper takes over. I passed countless orchards, irrigated fields, produce stands, and small farms. How do they grow all these plants in what is essentially a desert? They divert river water for irrigation, growing crops in land that otherwise would be lifeless dirt. Whether that makes any sense as water becomes one of the scarcest commodities I leave to you. Beyond the signs for Tulloch Lake, the elevation picks up, the heat starts to drop, and native trees make a return. Rocks litter the landscape, competing with the trees for space. Traffic flowed pretty well going east; cars leaving Yosemite bound for the coast, however, absolutely choked the one westbound lane for miles on end.

The road in to Yosemite initially goes through some heavy forest, but quickly starts to hug the side of the mountains. There's no gas stations in Yosemite Valley, where I'm staying, so I paid $5.09 for basic unleaded at the station just after the entrance. It was hard sitting down for a few hours after that, but they charge super-inflated prices for just about everything. Its like Hawaii, or New Zealand, or the Gulf Coast after a hurricane. Apparently gouging has become part of the National Parks experience. It takes forever to make it to the Valley because of the super low speed limits, winding roads, and the fact that I stopped every five minutes to take pictures. The Valley, where most people tend to visit, is situated along the Merced River, which runs between a series of huge granite cliffs. Right away you see the incredible natural beauty. A little closer in you encounter the famous El Capitan, and then the Cathedral Rocks. Still closer to the Lodge, where I'm staying, a herd of black tail deer was foraging in the meadow.

Yosemite has several lodging options, anything from the Ahwanhee Hotel, which is like a Hilton or a really nice Hyatt, to tent camps. The Lodge is analogous to a Hampton Inn, albeit with a better dining set up.  The Lodge is actually the "Lodge at Yosemite Falls," but the Falls have actually dried up (oh snap) until later in the year, as they rely on snow melt and all the snow has run off. The Falls dried up in early August. All around one can smell a strong tree scent. They've set up a shuttle bus system running throughout the Valley, taking people to all the popular locations for free. I took the shuttle over to Yosemite Village, to get some basics from the Village Store (Prisoner, anyone?).  The driver chastised me for going in the exit door (in through the out door, anyone?). On the way back, I paid my debt to society by listening to her offer her opinions on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and how the newer Johnny Depp movie wasn't nearly as good, and how she doesn't have a TV set but likes to watch DVDs, but only DVDs she can fall asleep to, and her favorite is the series Alice, because its Alice In Wonderland but the science fiction version. Anyone remember when I said the whole point of vacation was NOT to have to talk to people? I chimed in with "uh huhs" and "reallys" where appropriate. Whatever, freak.  Oh, and I was the only person on the bus after she shooed away this young couple trying to do a bunch of stuff after the buses stop running and the stores close at 10. They were incensed that things didn't stay open until midnight. In a national park. Hundreds of miles from the nearest after-hours club, yoga studios, and late night shopping. Hell the nearest Starbucks is in Oakdale and that's about two hours away. The whole point of a national park is that its not Los Angeles. Go back to West Hollywood, chatches.

The next morning I took a tour bus out to Glacier Point, towards the southern end of the Park, for what became a six and one-half hour hike back to the Valley. Glacier Point has long been one of the Park's more popular destinations. At its 7,000 foot elevation it provides fantastic views of the Valley, including Half Dome, the Vernal and Nevada Waterfalls, Mt. Hoffman, and other peaks. I took the photo above at Glacier Point. The trip there took an hour and a half, with an irritating tour bus driver wrapping somewhat interesting facts and figures around the worst jokes ever told. Which basically is the Tour Guide  profession, I suppose. I've taken exactly one tour bus where the driver's schtick didn't make me want to re-enact one of those scenes in Airplane where people are killing themselves as Stryker drones on telling his life story. That was at Edinburgh Castle in Scotland. Anyway, we passed El Capitan, Cathedral Rocks, Bridal Veil Falls, and the now dry Yosemite Falls en route.  I started hiking around 10:30, and aside from stopping about 20 minutes to brush off my new camera that I dropped in the dirt about 10 minutes in to the hike, and about a 20 minute lunch break, didn't stop until around 5:30. Mostly the hike was downhill; in fact, it had such a steep downhill grade that the last couple of hours or so I could feel my quadriceps twitching they were working so hard (sidebar-new punk or angry grrll band name: "Twitching Quadriceps"). The hike, along the Panorama and Mist Trails, runs past three waterfalls (Illilouette, Nevada, and Vernal), one river (Merced), and provides fantastic views of Half Dome and its sister "Sub Dome", and even a little (unsanctioned) swimming hole or two near the Nevada Falls. This hike boasted several highlights. I saw a green rattlesnake for the first time. Not sure exactly why it was green, but apparently it is the Mojave Green Rattlesnake, with a very small rattle. It was crawling just alongside the trail in a bush, and a woman about 30 feet ahead of me screamed bloody murder when she saw it. Other highlights included the Ahwahnee Hotel tour, led by two 20-ish year olds, one of whom went to TCU (nice job prospects there, Horned Frogs), the other of whom was a young woman who literally would not shut up about her recently broken engagement. I started from Glacier Point about the same time as them, and apparently kept the same pace. Were it not for the dropped camera, I may have had to burst my eardrums from the pain. I also enjoyed the couple who felt compelled to fight with each other, and keep the same pace as me, for about a couple of miles. Needless to say, this trail was very popular and about as populated as any trail I've ever hiked. The falls were quite spectacular. The Nevada Falls flowed into Emerald Pool, which had about the clearest Irish green water I've ever seen, and which then flowed into the Vernal Falls. Both falls were quite loud; even with my terrible hearing I could hear them all the way at the top of Glacier Point and throughout most of my hike. The Vernal Falls created a rainbow effect as they hit bottom, and threw off mist (hence the "Mist Trail") for hundreds of feet in every direction. It was a fairly warm day for Yosemite, in the upper 80s, and the place is always very dry. I ran out of water with about an hour left. Iced tea cravings kept me going to the shuttle at the hike's end.

The next day took me further north, to Tuolumne Meadows in the "High Country" to hike to Cathedral Lakes (there's two, an "Upper" and a "Lower"). I hadn't planned on the drive to the trailhead taking over an hour (thanks to road construction--hey, if we can't have late night grocery stores, we shouldn't have to deal with road construction). But it was a cool day, and the Tioga Road passed some very interesting scenery so it wasn't too painful. Of course, I prepared for this day's hike as if it were yesterday, taking far too much water, and not enough clothing. It was a good 20 degrees cooler at this higher elevation (7,000'), and towards the end of the day, near sunset, I could feel my hands becoming numb. Plus, today was cloudier, with clouds rolling in and out all day long. This hike had an elevation gain of about 1,000', meaning that it wasn't mostly downhill as was yesterday's hike. It started at the Meadows, a well known Park area boasting clear grasslands and no doubt wildflowers in spring. The Tuolumne River cuts through the Meadows, nourishing the clearing. The sight of numerous twenty-somethings in excellent shape bearing full trekking gear should have been my first clue this hike would pose a challenge. They looked like they were headed out to Milford Track in New Zealand, one of the world's greatest and most challenging hiking trails. As opposed to me, who finally figured out the reason my right boot was surprisingly tight was because that's where my lost tube of chap stick was hiding. My hike was almost straight up for about an hour, leveling off as it approached the first Lower Cathedral Lake. While the Glacier Point areas were fairly heavily forested, this area resembled northern New Mexico, only somewhat greener. The trees were scrubbier, and the whole area was chock full of rock and boulders. Right around where the trail leveled off, I got in front of three retirees, who insisted on talking loudly about their recipes and their gardens and various daily medicine routines. I couldn't quite shake them, at least not for awhile. And I left my ipod in my pack and didn't want to stop and take it out. So I had to do a LaDanian Tomlinson burst to create some distance. Or endure their waterboarding-like conversation. Approaching the lake, the trees gave way to another meadow, revealing the gorgeous Lower Cathedral Lake. A large granite expanse bordered its northern shore, accessible for hikers, while the southern side was tree-lined.  The water was deep and blue, with brown grasses covering a portion of the lake bed. I ate lunch along the shore beneath a small cedar tree, enjoying the still cool temperatures (maybe a windy, sunny upper 60s). Cathedral Peak dominated the scenery, jutting up with several spires higher than any of the surrounding peaks. After finishing lunch I headed on to Upper Cathedral Lake, which unfortunately did not seem accessible. So I kept hiking just a bit beyond and found a nice, exceptionally large meadow which opened up the space between three high peaks and the lake. Returning, I ran across another asian family (actually, by this time, they ran me down) looking for their son, with whom they were supposed to rendezvous at "Cathedral Lake." They had the wrong lake. They didn't quite speak english. I tried telling the father about the other lake, and how to get there. I asked if his son was young, and he said "he is 21, but we are old!" I guess, meaning that he and his wife were getting pretty tired. The guy looked younger than me, by the way, so that's good to know. The trail was also the John Muir Trail, doubling as a horse trail, and I saw several horses being moved. Horses had fertilized the whole trail, so careful footing was the order of the day. Around the fourth hour, I started experiencing some really bad right foot pain, primarily due to my small toe's nail getting extremely irritated and sensitive. Like most of your political posts on Facebook. I had to cut my speed dramatically just to get back, and by the end was limping pretty badly. Its been painful ever since.

So I'm not quite sure if I can hike tomorrow or not. Stay tuned to find out.

Vacation 2012: Wild Turkeys, the Black Hole, Flamenco Dancing, and the Hells Angels

Welcome to Vacation 2012, officially underway.  Friday was mostly a travel day, where I suffered the usual TSA indignities along with countless other proletarians that seemed to jam the airport. The atmosphere here was a little strange. Much more bustling than a usual Friday afternoon. The business people, forced to mix with the WalMart crowd, looked very worried, as if one of the unkempt worker-types (who by all rights should be taking the bus) might touch them or bump them from a flight. One particularly Banana Republic-clad chatch looking guy, anxiously pacing up and down while barking instructions on his newly released smart phone. That guy needed to back up and let it go, because he was stressing me, and no doubt some wife or secretary was extremely worried on the other end about the volcano that was going to explode when that guy returned home. The others were no doubt looking forward to fabulous destinations, like...Jacksonville...or other meth lab locations. You can tell where people at the airport are going just by looking at the gates, without even looking at the gate label. The party people are going to New Orleans or Las Vegas. The worn, beaten, humorless looking people who look like there's a permanent gray sky wherever they go are going to the East Coast. People who look like they should star on a Cops episode, or 80 year olds who have skin made of saddle leather, are on their way to Florida. The Southern travelers? That's generally anyone in a group with one or more family member, or women saying things like "mama my legs are sweating." Those traveling to the West resemble tall hobbits : emaciatedly thin, eco-friendly, Birkenstock and breeches-wearing earth dwellers, wizened and slow-moving due to their exclusively plant based diets (including copious amounts of mary jane).

Yes, it IS good to be so much better than everyone else.

I knew immediately I arrived at the correct gate for the Oakland flight when I found the one that looked like the yard at San Quentin. The place was filled with Raiders Fans, which is kind of one and the same. By all rights I should have been shanked after about 10 minutes near the gate. Imagine Newport Yacht Club during the season. This was the exact opposite. But fortune blessed me and I managed to survive the wait and made it onto the Southwest flight. This one actually served the peanuts, unlike the last flight where they announced that because one guy was allergic, they couldn't serve any peanuts. At all. Where the hell did all this nut allergy come from? I didn't know anyone for about 30 years with a nut allergy, much less something that could shut down a whole plane from enjoying the one and only perk Southwest Airlines makes available. Was anyone allergic to peanuts in 1969? Not that I knew of. We ate them everywhere. And peanut butter. Now kids can't trade their lunches, and every school cafeteria has a "nut free zone." Chris Rock once said no one in Somalia is lactose-intolerant, and I bet no one there has nut allergies either. Oh, and the peanut sacks all say "produced in a facility that processes peanuts and other nuts." Really? The bag of peanuts, you say? Wow. Either the FAA has so dumbed down its regulations that next they'll be telling us how to sit in a chair (which they do for emergency exit rows) or attorneys at huge law firms billing hundreds per hour are doling out some really incredible lawsuit-preventative advice. Either way, its pretty brilliant stuff. But we did enjoy some uplifting moments. First, when the pilot pointed out our passing over the Yosemite Valley. Even from our height you can see the dark forest, the snow capped peaks and the cragged terrain, all giving way to the Central California desert (or valley, depending on whether you work for the local chamber of commerce). The other was when they announced that one of the passengers was celebrating his 92nd birthday. He had been a fighter pilot in World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. The passengers broke into unbidden applause. I saw the guy in question later on, who looked like he was about 65. Remarkable.

The Oakland airport has improved considerably over the years, from the time when it made remote Argentinian airports look like O'Hare. Its now just like a real airport, just like what happened with Hobby. Eventually I made it to the rental car counter, where to my satisfaction they had reserved me a new red Mustang convertible with white stripes. Exactly what I need for my look. You can't represent in a Subaru.

Off I went down the 880 to Pinole, weaving in and out of Oakland rush hour traffic, past the "Black Hole" where the Oakland Raiders and A's play, along with countless motorcycles speeding in between traffic lanes and scaring the hell out of me and no doubt everyone else. At one point I saw a Hells Angel blaring his Harley right past everyone. Kind of like seeing an endangered species. I had no idea the Hells Angels was still a thing. Turns out not only are they still around, they've got a web site. Who knew? It seemed an appropriate sight while passing through Oakland, which these days resembles Detroit in RoboCop. Or just Detroit.

But eventually I arrived at Chez Ligocki, with Kimberly, Taffy and Rocky waiting to greet me. We feasted on a lovely, homemade dinner of pork and beef sausage meatballs and sauce, quinoa pasta, and salad with tomatoes grown in their garden. Quite a lovely way to end the evening.

The next day I set out to run into downtown Pinole, and at the outset discovered that a herd ("covey" "flock" what's the right word) of wild turkeys were chasing me down the street. Certainly not what you'd expect while jogging in an urban environment, but California has always been a land of possibilities, so why not? I returned to enjoy yet another awesome home cooked meal of scrumptious scrambled eggs and cheese, blueberries, and oatmeal. When Terry could join us after his tennis match, we headed out to Tilden Regional Park. The Bay Area boasts spectacular natural scenery and the communities long ago created an extensive park network. Berkeley's biggest park, Tilden, is no exception. In fact, Kimberly and Terry held their wedding in the Park many years ago. I was a "bridesman." Don't judge me. Today we saw no weddings, but did hike two miles out to Inspiration Point and enjoyed panoramic views of the entire Bay, including San Francisco, Oakland, Marin County, Angel Island, and Richmond. We enjoyed a really clear day with temperatures in the 70s. I very easily adapted to daytime conditions that weren't in the upper 90s with 80% humidity. No doubt the weather keeps people from leaving that might ordinarily flee the taxes, crime, and sky high living costs.

After our little hike we enjoyed a nice, healthy lunch at Fat Apples in El Cerrito (I think). I had some really good chili and a spinach salad. Looks like they serve great breakfast, and the bakery had a huge case full of great looking pies, cakes, and cookies. We then went home and crashed for awhile, Terry and I enjoying some college football. Then we headed into the city for a flamenco dancing show and tapas as LaLoLa Restaurant on Mason Street. This small, intimate Spanish restaurant features excellent food. We enjoyed a variety of dishes, including lamb chops, pork ribs, beans with sausage, chicken with salad, and an excellent cheese plate. The real treat, however, was the flamenco guitar, singing, and dance performance held in the basement. Terry's tennis friend David plays guitar for a monthly show at the Restaurant. This evening featured a dancer from Malaga, Spain, as well as a native San Franciscan. I'd not seen flamenco dance; it differed from my expectations. It struck me as almost balletic, rather than other more interactive dance forms. Both dancers displayed real focus, power, and artistry, and David's outstanding guitar performance really set the stage. The crowd, which noticeably filled with Spanish and similar-looking people, enthusiastically enjoyed the show. They really knocked us over too.

The next day, after running for about a half hour at Hilltop Lake Park, Kimberly treated me to another great breakfast of eggs, miniature strawberries (which I've never heard of), yogurt, and bacon. If the whole journalism thing doesn't work out, she could turn this into a pretty good bed and breakfast. Terry had another tennis outing planned, so Kimberly and I headed into Marin County in the Mustang, sans top, to explore Mill Valley and Tiburon. Mill Valley has long been a favorite, sitting near Muir Woods and nestled in the redwoods and maples. It boasts a number of local shops and good restaurants. We had lunch at Piazza d'Angelo, a place that Kimberly and Terry first introduced me to many years ago. We sat next to the open window facing the town plaza, enjoying the Japanese maples and the passers-by. I had an almond covered sole with salad, Kimberly had a salad with wine vinaigrette and grand padano cheese. We walked through the town, particularly enjoying the local park, located in an old growth redwood grove along the creek running through town. From there we headed to Tiburon, just on the Bay north of Angel Island. The town seemed quite larger than Mill Valley, or at least much more spread out along the road heading by the Bay to the ferry landing. We walked around some to enjoy the sun as it sank in the late afternoon, and watch the fog rolling over the Golden Gate Bridge. Lots of families were walking about as well; we enjoyed watching an elderly lady who had walked down from the hill with a bag of dog treats (and a toblerone bar), passing out treats to the dogs running through the bayside park.

After Tiburon, we headed back home where Kimberly made a really great, spicy roast, with green beans and peas. We also enjoyed some Cowgirl Creamery cheese we bought in Mill Valley. I visited Cowgirl Creamery in Point Reyes with Kimberly and Terry many years ago, then again while on my vacation a couple of years ago. So enjoying some with Kimberly and Terry again brought back those memories.

Ugh, ok. That about covers it. We've been pretty active since I arrived, but tomorrow its on to Yosemite and my dance with rat-borne death. Apparently the local news now is reporting that perhaps thousands who stayed in the Curry Village cabins in July and August may be at risk, but that the Park won't be closing or restricting access any further than it already has. Good to know. Of course, you can't sue them so what do they care?

Question: if I'm listening to the Marshall Tucker band past midnight while I'm in San Francisco, should I be worried?

Next-on to Yosemite, and hiking, hiking, hiking.

World Tour 2012: Into the Plague Zone

Well, its that time again. Time for me to take a "one percent" style vacation, unsaddled with screaming kids or complaining significant others, to some super awesome cool destination most people only dream of. Like The Woodlands. As many of you (by "many" I mean "six") may remember, the reason I started this blog was so I could "report" about my vacation adventures. In recent years I've been fortunate enough to visit some great international spots, including Argentina, New Zealand, Ireland, and Scotland. Domestically, I've seen Western Washington, the Maine and Oregon Coasts, Redwoods National Park, Lake Tahoe, Savannah, Charleston, and New York. And, I've tried to post as I went along, sharing the intriguing sights and sounds with all of you.

You can tell a lot about a person based on how they spend their vacation. Most people I know like to find some beach or cruise ship and become a crisp piece of inert burnt toast. They'll spend all day in the sun, reading a book and drinking cocktails with umbrellas or craft beers, then wearing some loose fitting floral themed outfit at night to a theme dinner and dance. This combines the things I hate the most into one expensive and tiring experience: heat, lying around doing nothing or things you could do at your house, loungewear, and talking to other people. Like going on a super discount Mexican cruise with Frank and Estelle Costanza. Or with a gaggle of legal secretaries from Little Rock (all married to guys with names like "Vernon" or "T-Bo"), celebrating someone's 50th birthday. I try assiduously to avoid all such elements, probably to my detriment.

No, for me, its all about exploring somewhere new. I think of vacation as some sort of anthropological expedition, with hiking. And nice restaurants. And clean sheets. Or as my friend Theresa once put it, my vacations resemble Patton going into battle. I suppose they do exude some element of Sherman laying siege to Atlanta. Mainly I just try to observe, blend in, and enjoy the vibe of some other land.

"Vibe" seemed appropriate by the way, but I promise to eschew further chach word choices. No I do not have a mustache or seven gold chains visible in my chest hair thanks to unbuttoning my shirt half way. Not today at least.

What was I talking about?

Oh, yeah. Sadly, all the Disney theme cruises were booked through year's end, so this year, my two week lawyering respite takes me to the Golden State. California Dreaming. There I'll spend a week hiking in and enjoying the general splendor of Yosemite National Park, followed by a few days in the Central California Coast enjoying the amazing scenery of Carmel, Monterey, Big Sur, and Santa Cruz, and finally winding up with a few days in San Francisco. Fighting hordes of sticky faced kids at the ice cream bar waiting to see Goofy and Donald Duck will have to wait at least another year.

Now, as some of you have correctly noted, Yosemite is having a bit of, shall we say, a problem. Well, its just a little bit of, you know, [cough] fatal rat-borne disease deaths [cough]. [The "cough" thing doesn't work as well in writing I guess]. Specifically, several people who stayed in a particular tent cabin location contracted "hantavirus," spread by rats, and died.

This might put off some people, who, curiously, don't want to vacation in a known rat-borne fatal illness location. Go figure. People are getting soft. But not this guy. First off, the Park isn't exactly sitting around doing nothing. Like the trained federal government employees they are, the Park Service has sprung into action, closing down the affected cabins, cleaning the area, and trying to trap affected rodents. Their goal is to "reduce the risk of other visitors becoming ill," which I know, you're saying "WHAT? JUST REDUCE??!!" which is just stinkin' thinkin'. Hey, they're the Feds. I feel lucky they're not going to bill me for the clean up costs. After all, I didn't build those cabins. The government did. Plus, Yosemite is this great big park, with lots and lots of empty space (well, there's trees and mountains and stuff), and the exposures have only been at one specific spot where I'm not even staying. I'm sure the Service has the place roped off. Right? Surely its roped off? And diseases never travel through the air so I'm good. Also, this will perhaps keep more people away from the park, fulfilling another of my vacation objectives (avoid human interactions). And finally, let's face it, any of us are at much greater risk walking on any downtown street in America. I shudder to think what kind of germ warfare toxic oozing pus diseases are crawling on every air molecule we breathe on Sixth Street. [You like that? You see what I did there?]. The fact that I don't contract cholera or dengue fever or bubonic plague every time I go downtown is just a matter of grace. So Yosemite will still seem like a NASA clean room by comparison.

Now, as previously mentioned, I don't think I'll blog every day. Its difficult to jazz up the description of scenery. Like the astronauts trying to describe how beautiful the earth appears from space. My vacation posts describing hikes all go like this: "And then I took the Smith Trail, and it went through some thick woods. They were pretty. The trail went up and then down, kind of like life. HA!!! LOL!! Then after a long time, it came to a viewpoint and you could see a mountain. The mountain was tall. It had lots of snow and it was pretty too. Hey, did you see the Star Trek episode where McCoy got annoyed at Spock and then cured some incurable disease in about a half hour?" Its like a fifth grade book report at Lindsay Lohan Elementary. That's so RETARDED!!! So I'm not sure how often I'll post. Maybe just to introduce the copious photos I hope to take, with my brand new, totally awesome Nikon camera and super fancy lens. Which, no doubt, I'll drop into a stream the first day out. Eeyore posts.

After that, I'll drive to Monterey, California, and spend three days. I'll visit such places as Carmel, Big Sur, etc. as listed above. Monterey is right on the coast, and is home to the famous Aquarium and Cannery Row of Steinbeck fame. The whole area boasts some incredible scenery, such as the Pebble Beach golf course, Big Sur, and some amazing coastline views.

Then I'll head to Gomorrah, i.e. San Francisco. Normally when I go out to the Bay Area I stay with Kimberly and Terry (read Kimberly's blog, linked off to the side, or I shall kill you!!) and we never go into the city proper. Which generally is ok because there the rat-borne diseases are afraid of the even more deadly poisons lurking on every corner. But I do enjoy Golden Gate Park, and Pacific Heights, and Twin Peaks, and maybe the Giants will be playing in their incredible baseball park near the Embarcadero. So I'll spend the last three days in the city.

Like a Boss.

That's pretty much it. Keep checking in for reports from The Road. If I don't make it back, sell my stuff and give Ron the proceeds (if he ever makes it out of the flood-praying for you Big Guy!).

The Mangled Chick Fil A "Debate"

Its time to talk turkey. Or chicken, actually. Chick Fil A chicken. I know I'm about two weeks late and no one cares about this anymore (proving one of my points below), but I had more important things to do. Like...watching pre-season football, and hanging around, and staring off into space. Geez, sorry for living [passive aggressive sigh]!

I try to avoid politics here. Its just so depressing. The chance that someone will read and become "converted" amount to slim and none. Besides, as we all suffer information overload and can access news instantly, who, exactly, remains "uncommitted"? Unless you just don't care or you never form opinions without knowing what Kim Kardashian thinks. (Hint: she doesn't think-she has people who do that for her). You're so damn touchy. People see "I disagree with your strongly held views for the following reasons" but they read "you're an immoral degenerate fascist." Besides, who fundamentally changes their fundamental beliefs? So why I should waste time lecturing you on politics escapes me. Far better to write about how Patrick Swayze really shouldn't have worn that black leather Terminator outfit when he went to ask Dr. Houseman to give Baby another chance after the, well, you know episode. After all, Baby's got just as big a heart as her horrible older sister Lisa, but can sing and dance way better. See, that's how my writing can make the world a better place.

But this whole Chick Fil A nonsense, with our nation's lonely eyes turned to a fast food chicken peddler as the symbol of moral outrage or decency, depending on your view, went WAY too far to ignore.

I know a lot of you think that prohibiting same sex marriage is right up there with enslavement or virgin sacrifice, and you're frothing at the mouth that anyone could even tolerate an opposite view. But, some think its a legitimate topic to debate, and if you possibly can get past the "that guy's evil and horrible; no, THAT guy's evil and horrible" approach, its an interesting debate. But it became about...chicken.

How did it ever get this far? Well, here's how the controversy arose.

For those who don't like to click links, the Baptist Recorder, an on-line journal, interviewed Chick Fil A's President, Dan Cathy. The Baptist Press reprinted this article. Now, this was just a general interest piece on a Baptist businessman. The Baptist Press, which doesn't exactly have People magazine's circulation, prints these articles all the time, with the interview subjects all saying pretty much the same thing. You don't exactly read the Baptist Press to find 10 ways to please your man in bed, or its secular humanist CEO interview series. Or for its incessant "up with gay rights" commentaries. Anyway, Cathy said:

"We are very much supportive of the family -- the biblical definition of the family unit.… We are a family owned business, a family led business, and we are married to our first wives. We give God thanks for that."

Well, the broader media picked up those comments and all the sudden it was like stampeding cattle through the Vatican. Come to find out, Chick Fil A contributed to pro-family/anti-gay marriage groups. So...the Muppets (!!) backed out of some sponsorship deal. I had no idea they were gay. Bert and Ernie, sure. But Oscar the Grouch? He's far too cranky to be gay-friendly. But this pushed them over the edge. The Mayors of Boston and Chicago decreed that they would fight any further Chick Fil A expansion in their towns, failing of course to note the irony of excluding people because they don't believe in inclusion (like the crowd scene in Life of Brian, "you're all individuals!" "we are all individuals!"). Politicians everywhere jumped on the bandwagon. The Mayor of Washington D.C. condemned Chick Fil A as "hate chicken." No, really, he said that. A Philadelphia alderman vowed to prevent Chick Fil A from expanding in Philly. Activists announced a gay "kiss day" where they would go to Chick Fil A restaurants and...kiss. Sort of a cross between the Occupy movement and the Pride parade. Predictably, the Daily Show weighed in (against Chick Fil A, I know, shocking!), late night comedians piled on...pretty quickly, the entire liberal establishment had leveled its fire straight (heh, heh) at Chick Fil A. Haven't heard from Matt Damon yet, but I'm sure he's working on a statement. I haven't heard when the "kiss day" will happen at your local still anti-gay (at least, officially, wink) Catholic Church. Or Texas A&M. Others have asked customers to boycott Chick Fil A. Including the guy who plays Andy Bernard on the Office (the "Nard Dog"), whose name absolutely no one can remember. Boy, Chick Fil A's on its last legs now, huh?

Cue the backlash. The anti-gay crowd (sorry, the "free speech crowd") started organizing to support Chick Fil A. US Senate candidate Ted Cruz's supporters vowed to eat at Chick Fil A. His opponent, David Dewhurst, followed suit. Dewhurst is used to following, so that's no surprise. Oh, and how funny is the Dew, richer than Calvin Coolidge (put together!) eating at Chick Fil A? That's like Baron de Rothschild having the fried cheese sticks and three for one happy hour watermelon martinis at the Grapevine Chili's. Rick Santorum organized a pro-Chick Fil A twitter campaign. Camera hog Sarah Palin made one of her trademark imperial visits to a Chick Fil A. One group rallied supporters to attend "Chick Fil A Appreciation Day." By all accounts it was a rousing success, with drive through lines snaking around the block at many establishments. I was hoping it would happen the same day as the gay kissers. That would have made for a good confrontation. Like when the Blazing Saddles cast fight spilled onto the set of the 30s musical. The "French Mistake" indeed. "Piss on you, I'm working for Mel Brooks!'" Finally, the ACLU got in on the act, supporting Chick Fil A's free expression rights. Great. You always want the one group who supports the Klan on your side. And who supports the Illinois Nazis.

This has become one of those modern American flare ups, where people become utterly outraged and incensed over some random happening, which generally has been going on for years. The usual suspects turn it into a good old fashion lynch mob, demanding instant and immediate change (primarily hounding the target from our midst), politicians eagerly lend a hand and promise a thorough investigation and swift change, and cowardly advertisers cringe in fear that their association with the target could hurt profits. Then everyone forgets all about it two weeks later after something really important happens. Like Christina Aguilera showing up "fat" (you know, a size 2) to the Grammys, or Justin Bieber clubbing with Kim Kardashian, or Oprah having a summer special with Miley Cyrus and Taylor Lautner. Remember the Gulf Coast oil spill? Rush saying mean things about a law student? I thought not. "Yeah! We're going to get him! This is outrageous! I'm never listening again and OH MY GOD is Mario Lopez on Dancing With the Stars?!!!??" Ours is not a country that keeps its eyes on the prize. Except when the prize is fighting to keep Olive Garden's never ending bread sticks on the menu.

Enough putting it off. Let's look at how both sides have totally botched this thing. Not so much to debate the substance. You believe what you want to believe. I'm not here to convert you (see above). No, there's some other things we need to address.

First off, the backlash to the backlash has gone a wee bit far. The anti-gay marriage/pro-Chick Fil A people have characterized those who refuse to patronize Chick Fil A over this as religiously intolerant, and of deny seeking to Chick Fil A its free speech rights. I know, I know...they're not real Americans. Like there's some Constitutional definition of a "real" American. I miss a lot of things because of work and my busy napping schedule, but I missed the announcement that guess in 21st century America, you can't spend your money at only businesses that share your values because that would deny a business' free speech rights. Too bad, so sad. Free speech rights don't require anyone to listen to the speaker, much less to buy their chicken. The politicians who want to kick Chick Fil A out of town are depriving Chick Fil A of its rights. But not consumers who decide to buy their fast food chicken somewhere else. This still isn't Russia, and you can spend your money however you like, on legal pursuits of course, for whatever reason. [Oh, except you have to buy health care insurance or you'll pay a penalty. Errr...its a tax...never mind.] If you don't want to spend your money somewhere that opposes gay marriage, or supports the troops, or sponsors the Boy Scouts, or that drove out local businesses, or whatever, by all means, take your stand. There's millions of other places where you can buy a marginal chicken sandwich.

Besides, the outrage is a litle too much. "How DARE you crticize Chick Fil A!!!" Kind of resembles when you're caught in a lie and rather than confessing, you go on the attack. A real lawyer's move. Look, let's just call this what it really is. A lot of the pro-Chick Fil A fervor has nothing to do with protecting free speech. I doubt these people attend ACLU rallies, or praise cities that tolerated Occupy rallies earlier this year. They'll defend your right to say something...as long as what you want to say isn't on their "sin list." Most of these people would jump at the chance to ban the New York Times or MSNBC or any other Pravda-esque liberal rag, just because they disagree with the point of view expressed. (Its un-American). This is about opposing gay rights, or even gays themselves. They oppose any fleeting mention or depiction of sexual subjects (while of course yukking it up over shows featuring graphic violence). These people have seen gay rights going from pretty much being able to beat the ever loving crap out of gays with impunity to gays possessing close to equal rights in many ways. Its pretty clear all legal distinctions will disappear within the next 10-20 years. The anti- crowd probably feels the urge to make a last stand somewhere, and sawing the pro- crowd off that limb that is Chick Fil A must seem very tempting. But its a little too dramatic. Very gay, actually.

But of course, the morally superior progressive crowd, tearing up their rotator cuffs from so much self back-slapping, so much better in every way than neanderthal conservatives, have once again managed to outsmug even themselves. The same sex marriage boosters lost this battle when Chick Fil A and free speech became the focus. We're not talking about how gay marriage is totally awesome wonderful cool. We're talking about chicken. And free speech. And local governments trying to run businesses out of town when they don't hold the "right" views (which suspiciously coincide with the views politicians think will elicit the most votes). And whether you're supporting evil when you buy two for one hate chicken. The pro- crowd lost the topic. They came off as picking on a seemingly otherwise responsible company, flogging it for holding beliefs that, right or wrong, millions of Americans share. How did they lose the topic? By going totally over the top. The pro- crowd totally over did it, like some overwrought Susan Hayward moment (trust me, that was really funny). Kicking Chick Fil A out of town? Boycotting it? Denying its rights to conduct business? Launching into self-righteous moral harangues? Because its management expressed a view many others share. What, no setting its management adrift on an ice floe? How's all that going? Well, its caused the opposition to harden its views. That is all. I seriously doubt its changed one person's gay marriage views. It sure hasn't changed Chick Fil A's. Or the Boy Scouts' views.

Quite to the contrary, the only thing the pro- crowd has accomplished is driving up Chick Fil A's sales as the anti's eat more chicken. Is that a thing now? Insults? Threats? Opportunism? Killing the opposition with saturated fat? King never condemned his enemies. They beat him, jailed him, reviled him, spied on him...you name it. He prayed for segregationists and forgave them. He knew he needed to convince whites that segregation was wrong. Its hard to convince someone to change their mind when you're attacking them personally. King persuaded through example and conviction. I doubt he'd have run around squawking about "hate chicken." (Get it? "Squawking"..."chicken"? Hello?) But that's not "debate" anymore. I am not more likely to believe your opinions if you call me "evil" when I don't. Go figure.

Some Chick Fil A employees no doubt oppose Mr. Cathy's views as well, as one manager urgently told an on-line site. More than likely some of Mr. Cathy's family members and shareholders disagree with him as well. And while punishing Chick Fil A through boycotts and local government discrimination might slightly impact Chick Fil A's top management who advocate this philosophy, it could well wind up causing some innocent fast food worker to lose his or her job.

Symbols provide a powerful means to convey a point, and a movement sometimes must personalize its enemy to present the conflict more dramatically. The Civil Rights Movement could yak about equal rights all day, but it didn't reach whites emotionally until images surfaced of Bull Connor directing fire hoses and police dogs at peaceful protesters, or thick necked cops pushing around ministers and kids. This sickened Americans. Picking a target to personalize what you may characterize as anti-gay oppression? Ok. Good job, good effort. But Chick Fil A is the wrong choice. It gives employees Sundays off. It employs thousands. It donates to some worthy causes. Some people like its food. Whatever you want to read into "family friendly," many think that beats "not family friendly." Also, Chick Fil A serves gay people, employs gay people, and promotes gay people into management. Its not like they've bullied gay students, or drug gays on a chain behind a pickup truck. Has it broken any laws? Its not smashing gay customers' heads, or refusing to hire gays, or turning away gay customers. Is that even illegal? Its not making them sit in special "gay sections." You know, like at Fashion Week. Its not trying to "convert" gays. Its not like Chick Fil A flooded the airwaves with anti-gay messages. Its ads don't show chickens stomping on Madonna posters or pecking Anderson Cooper to death. It hasn't sponsored Richard Simmons video burnings or protested at the Tony Awards. Did anyone but hard core activists even know Chick Fil A had this position? Its President simply expressed an opinion that he prefers the "traditional" view of marriage, and it has provided charitable donations to like minded organizations. This view, I might add, expresses his religious beliefs, and a substantial number of Americans support this view even today. The United States' Government's official policy for the military until earlier this year was also consistent. So Chick Fil A wasn't exactly the best candidate to designate as "evil incarnate."

Besides, the whole "we'll make this business pay for its evil, "hate the people" views is a little selective. Where's the righteous indignation that stops these people from wearing Chinese sweatshop clothes, i.e. just about everything in your local mall. Or shopping at local business-killing WalMart or Starbucks or Applebee's. Or eating near-toxic McDonald's imitation beef-product, derived from Brazilian cows ranged on cleared rain forest land. Or driving pollution causing SUVs, or buying Nike slave labor shoes. Or watching Charlie Sheen or Lindsay Lohan movies. Well, if they made any. Or using animal-tested medicines. The Chick Fil A hubub represents an aberration. Most people just don't care about a company's "beliefs" when they decide where to purchase goods or services.
And when are we going to kick the Catholic Church out of town? Or the Islamic Circle of North America. Or Orthodox Jews. Or the black pastors' group that just formed to oppose President Obama's support of same sex marriage. Or  Louis Farrakhan, who criticized President Obama for endorsing same sex marriage (where was the Farrakhan boycott?). Remember how the Mayor of Chicago is so opposed to Chick Fil A because of its gay marriage stance. Yeah, he recruited Farrakhan to participate in an anti-gang initiative. So I guess there's one guy who opposes gay marriage that's still welcome in Chicago, huh? Oh, Farrakhan hates Jews too.

A sizable and growing number of Americans clearly supports same sex marriage rights, but not until very recently that any state recognized same sex marriage, it has never been enacted in a vote, it remains illegal in most states, and a substantial number of Americans oppose it. Opposing gay marriage cannot constitute some sort of outlandish, wildly out of touch, fascistic, oppressive belief shocking to the conscience. Future generations may well regard it that way. But in 2012, it is not some fringe opinion. That Chick Fil A management would hold such views does not rise to the level of offense.

Plus, Chick Fil A sponsors the Peach Bowl (actually they renamed it, which IS evil), pitting a top ACC team against a top SEC team, as well as two "Kickoff Games" to begin the college football season. So that gains it considerable extra credit.

OK, I'm just assuming people quit reading awhile back, so I'll leave it there. Gotta go turn my house into a bunker to protect me from the inevitable protests.
Next-either Mad Men, or something more frivolous. Like "A Few of my Favorite Things."

Penn State-Sometimes the Innocent Need Punishment

Jerry Sandusky and Joe Paterno

Hey, I'm still around. Been working on my stupid Mad Men post for what seems like forever. Its gonna be really good. By which I mean, tedious and with lots of philosophical observations about things that don't really matter. Pretty much right in my wheelhouse, if you've ever read my posts.

Meanwhile, we need to look at the Penn State situation. Well, not really Penn State as such, but the punishment that the NCAA's levied against Penn State's football program.

Unless you've been living under a rock or in Monahans, Texas these past few months, you know that a former Penn State assistant football coach, Jerry Sandusky, spent the last 20 years or so molesting area children. Sandusky used his connections and access to the football program to lure his victims. Head coach Joe Paterno, as well as the university President and other senior Penn State officials were aware of Sandusky's assaults for years. Not only did they fail to notify law enforcement authorities, they actively concealed evidence of Sandusky's crimes. The University hired former FBI Director and federal judge Louis Freeh to conduct an investigation, and he concluded that these officials engaged in a conspiracy to cover up Sandusky's crimes to avoid bringing adverse publicity to the football program. The school fired Paterno, who has since passed away. Other officials have resigned and are under indictment.

The NCAA, which regulates college athletics, just imposed severe sanctions which the University has accepted. These include a $60 million fine (the football program's average yearly revenues),  significant scholarship reductions, a four years post-season bowl ban, and so forth. The NCAA will allow current Penn State players to transfer to other schools without sitting out the year that would normally apply (but other schools must still comply with their own scholarship restrictions, thereby limiting other schools' ability to absorb Penn State players). The Big 10, Penn State's conference, also will withhold Penn State's share of the Big 10's bowl revenues during its four year bowl ban. Generally, the NCAA's rules focus on creating a level competitive "playing field." The NCAA typically imposes sanctions when universities or boosters pay players or when players receive impermissible benefits. Sanctions usually include reduced scholarships; severe violations can merit prohibitions against bowl participation and television appearances. The NCAA has not previously punished an institution for its employees' criminality to my knowledge. The Penn State sanctions go far beyond previous NCAA sanctions, except in the 1980s where it applied the "death penalty" to the SMU football program, in which it banned SMU from playing football for an entire season.

While many have applauded the NCAA's actions, some have criticized these actions as "punishing the innocent." Clearly, they do. Severe scholarship restrictions will prevent Penn State from fielding a very competitive team. The inability to participate in bowl games or the upcoming national championship tournament will make recruiting even more problematic and deprive Penn State of significant revenue.  Football revenue at a school like Penn State funds not only the football program but other "non-revenue" athletics programs. So it will encounter even more difficulty funding the entire athletics program. With a less competitive team, fewer fans will attend games, hurting local businesses that rely on football weekend revenues to sustain their profitability.

But is it fair to the football players who will play on a terrible team instead of one of the top ranked programs, or the shop owners who may lose their business, or the hotel maid who may lose her job, or the defunded water polo team? Well, at least it will reduce the horse drownings. Reduce.

The answer is yes. A tough yes, but yes.

Lets look beyond the Penn State debacle and just talk about crime and punishment. Or in NCAA-speak, "violations" and "sanctions."

Any time the NCAA levies sanctions, it impacts people that had nothing to do with violating the rules. Scholarship reductions harm the team and the players. Bowl prohibitions impair recruiting and reduce needed operating revenue. Fines and TV bans have a similar effect. These direct effects can have downstream effects, as mentioned earlier. The more severe Penn State sanctions will no doubt have the same effect, only on a greater scale.

The NCAA consists of member universities, not coaches, not players, not cheerleaders and not Norman, Oklahoma LaQuinta owners (clad in red polyester leisure suits and smoking cigars at breakfast). The NCAA's rules apply to the member universities, and ultimately the universities bear responsibility to comply with them. The universities break those rules. Of course, they do so through the individuals acting on their behalf, but every institution acts through its officers and employees. How do you punish the institution? You punish the program directly, as through reduced scholarships or other actions that make it less competitive. When a program breaks rules intended to create some sort of level playing field, it gains an advantage that other programs lack. So punishing rule violations must reel back that program's unfairly earned competitive advantage. Put another way, the schools breaking the rules generally do so to make their teams more competitive than if they followed the rules. So the punishment must mitigate that unfair advantage.

Look, what would happen if the NCAA didn't punish the university, and limited its punishment to the actual wrongdoers? Its rules would lack any real deterrence. The university could always find some junior assistant patsy stiff on whom to pin everything, fire them, and escape any responsibility. It could utterly fail to monitor compliance and could tolerate rampant violations, knowing that it would, if caught, only need to fire the perpetrators without suffering any downside that could hurt the football (or basketball) program's competitive position.  Only punishing schools will incent them to require their employees follow to the rules.

Think about all those boosters only too ready to pay the players. You know, those wacky, cigar chomping, polyester wearing, rotten teeth having car dealers or other rich guys who give lots of money to the program so they can hang out with 20 year old football players. Or the Governor of Texas. The ones who would buy every blue chip recruit in the state a new Camaro and thousands of dollars in bling and weed and girls if they sign with dear old U.  You know, Miami in the 1980s. If you didn't nail the team itself when you discover this stuff, then the university would lack any incentive to control these people, and the boosters would have no reason not to violate the rules. After all, the NCAA can't do anything to them. The only way to control these people is to hurt the thing that motivates them-make the football team less competitive. 

The "innocents" also aren't quite that innocent. No, I'm not talking about 1998 Britney Spears either. They may not have violated any rules, but they enjoyed the fruits of rules violations. The fans enjoyed a more competitive team. The players played on a more successful team and enjoyed the accolades that brings. The university recognized higher revenues when more fans went to games, bought merchandise, and watched on TV. Cheating helps those who didn't cheat. Remember Enron, and all those frauds that made its stock more valuable? The shareholders didn't participate in any wrongdoing, but they enjoyed higher dividends and share value as a result. At least until the whole thing fell apart. Thanks for quitting before you finished the job, Jeff Skilling. And if the NCAA doesn't punish the team and the program, incoming recruits won't take care to consider whether the universities recruiting them will follow NCAA rules. Anyone considering a scholarship to Miami or virtually any SEC school, for example, has to worry about whether that school will land on probation during their four years. So a program with an enforcement problem will experience some difficulty in assuring potential recruits they won't wind up on a sanctioned team. Punishing the team, even one with no players who may have participated in wrongdoing, helps incentivize everyone with a stake in the program to follow the rules.

Besides, punishment almost always entails some collateral damage beyond the person or institution punished. When criminals go to jail, it impacts their ability to support their families. When a corporation pays a fine or penalty, it may have to lay off employees to avoid bankruptcy.  When you ground your kids, you deprive their friends of their company.

Finally, the schools can't have it both ways on whether the players play for the school or the coaches. The NCAA allows universities to prevent players from transferring when the coach who recruited them leaves the school. Even though the new coach may institute offensive or defensive schemes that don't suit current players, the school can still keep the player at that school. The schools say that the players sign with the institution, not the coaches, and so their relationship is with the schools. The schools can't then turn around and claim that the team should suffer no adverse effects when the school or its boosters or coaches violate the rules. After all, the school and the players are all in this together despite coaching changes, so they're all in it together when the NCAA assesses sanctions. Its just one big happy family, right? Well, when the feds bust Dad, the kids are gonna suffer too.

The Penn State situation represents the most extreme and egregious behavior any university has committed, garnering the most significant NCAA sanctions. Admittedly, the players and most of the university community could not reasonably have imagined what the coach and top administrators had done. The impact that these sanctions will impose on them may seem unfair, but generally, the NCAA must impose sanctions that hurt those who did not directly violate the rules to prevent future violations.

Maybe if Penn State had taken to heart its institutional responsibility to comply with NCAA rules, or at least the Pennsylvania Criminal Code, it would have adopted controls and compliance measures that would have made it impossible for four bloated old guys to cover up such monstrous crimes just to keep those fat football checks rolling in. Instead, everyone was happy to worship at the "JoePa" altar and live off the bliss of all those wins and enjoy the game day celebration. Now we know what those wins and celebrations cost. So its absolutely fair to hold the University accountable in its entirety.

Got it?

Next-ok, what does Mad Men teach us about life? If you're curious, you put WAY too much emphasis on TV.