WIC. Whack!

I went to the grocery store at noon hour today to buy my lunch. While I was standing in line I noticed a revised WIC price list posted to the cash register with today's date on it. WIC stands for Women, Infants, Children and is part of the government's food assistance program. This piqued my curiosity so I asked the pimply cashier facing me if food stamp recipients pay a different price for food than those not receiving the benefit. He said no, but if the price on an item is higher than what the government has agreed to pay then the store has to honor the established price, thus the store eats the difference. Further, he says that they don't pay tax on "soda". This got me so incensed that I am compelled to conduct an investigative probe into this program. I despise being ripped off or at least feeling like I am.

Of course the government is tax exempt, that's not what I take umbrage with. What smarts is that we, the taxpayers, are paying almost 60 billion dollars/year for this "nutritional" program and soda (among other sugary, fatty, salty, processed products) is on the approved list? Furthermore, the cost that the grocer "absorbs" obviously gets passed on to the consumer so we're being double dipped! I can see this rant spinning off more times than "All in the Family" so I'll try to stay on point.

The Food & Nutrition Service, according to a publication on its website titled, Food Stamps Make America Stronger, seems genuinely proud that the eligible participant statistic is rising. Reading on they boast that 26 million people, roughly 10% of the population in the richest nation in the world, need welfare to feed themselves. And they congratulate themselves that only about a 1/2 million people receiving the benefit are doing so fraudulently.

I'm not an ogre and do passionately care to help out my brethren in need but as is the case with hand-outs in general it begets a sense of entitlement and may foster unscrupulous behavior, at least by a certain few. This assertion is evidenced by an amusing and disturbing blog posted by a grocery clerk where, assuming he's telling the truth, he relates first-hand experience.

I hope this program "helps" more people than it hurts. At first blush, however, it looks like it hurts the very people it purports to help - in more ways than one.

The Streets of San Francisco: A Novella

San Francisco in my estimation is one of the most beautiful cities in the country and I love to visit whenever the opportunity arises. Over the last fifteen or so years I've spent many a weekend on urban safari racking up innumerable good times and memories. I could recount them all but that would best be saved for a guide book. Instead, I'll describe our visit over the President's birthday weekend which happened to be a celebration of Damon's 43rd birthday - the president of his own paltry regime.

We made this trip in part because we had American Airline vouchers (the airline's attempt at redemption for a dreadful trip to visit Damon's aunt in Missouri last Thanksgiving. You'll see why I mention this later.) After a nap and a cocktail we decide to venture out into the cold night in search of a bone-warming cup of hot n' sour soup in the famed Chinatown. The streets are beautifully adorned with red lanterns in honor of Chinese New Year celebrated throughout February and the air is perfumed with the scent of green tea. Since neither of us read Chinese and all the storefronts look the same, we looked for a restaurant with the most Asian people inside figuring that would be a good indicator. From our perspective it was yummy but I bet Nemo, the one trying to escape his fate, had a different idea.

Greeted by a sunny morning we thought we'd savor our luck and rent bikes for a 3 hour tour. We spotted Blazing Saddles from the bus (a highly recommended mode of transportation in the city - easy, cheap and interesting.) Damon is an avid and veteran cyclist and I am pathetically uncoordinated so to avoid tragedy we hired a tandem bike. For two controlling maniacs this is an exercise in communication. WOW! Once we got in a groove we cruised over Fort Mason among picturesque views of the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. We motored along the Marina and seaside wildlife preserve. The ride was invigorating and the sun felt so warm we had to lay down for a nap before putting our toes in the icy water and watching playful pups harass diving ducks.Check out this gigantic beached jelly fish!

We traversed the hills of the Presidio before descending to a favorite watering hole, Liverpool Lil's. A couple of weekend libations and a baked brie/garlic flower plate later we were sufficiently fueled to power the hills again. Damon had been battling the flu so we parted after returning the bike - after all I don't have the flu. :] It was cocktail hour and my signature drink is an old fashioned drink called a side car so I toddled into the first place I'd ever had one, Rose Pistola in North Beach, SF's Italian neighborhood. The barkeep concocted a special rendition made with honey so delectable it surpassed any I've had before.

I've always wanted to see the San Francisco Ballet Company and it turns out they were performing Giselle this weekend. They dance at the gorgeous War Memorial Opera House and I was lucky enough to get a single ticket in the orchestra section. The story is romantic in a Romeo & Juliet kinda way and the music classic but this was a masterpiece in choreography, unadulterated from the original production. Helgi Tomasson turned extraordinarily talented dancers into something superhuman and perfectly synchronized. The female lead, a beautiful young woman from Shanghai floated around the stage like a butterfly. She was astounding. And the men are so strong and elegant in their bold way with incredible endurance (not to mention incredible buns!). It really was a symbiosis of art and athleticism. I know I'm getting a little effusive but I was blown away. A night cap at the hip and ambient View featuring spectacular city and bay views is the perfect ending to a perfect night.

Sunday, I'm awakened by the beautiful chime of adjacent church bells tolling out hymns. A strong cafe and the paper ease the guilt of dissing a sermon. When your traveling companion is cooped up in the infirmary (a.k.a a comfortable hotel room with scenic views) you make the best of it like a good girl and hit the spa. But the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art awaits me so not to dilly dally. For a city like SF I was underwhelmed by SFMOMA. I quite enjoyed the visiting exhibit, Olafur Eliasson, a modern marriage of reflection and perspective through the use of (and as it relates to) light. A few token Warhol, Rivera and Picasso pieces dot the permanent collection; predictable in a MAM. Barring the natural-light filled turret, the space itself is lackluster and some of the photography exhibits I found unmoving and amateurish.

Now that I've worked up an appetite I stroll around Union Square, window shopping and looking for a good place to chow. I stumble upon Mocca, an authentic European style bistro in an alley just off the square. This place is a decadent smorgasbord of fantastic, fresh food faire (how's that for an alliteration?) that will leave you reeling from all the yummy choices. Be prepared it is spendy and cash only. The only thing missing was an accordion player and a hole in the ground in the WC.

Feeling a little nostalgic I trek back to North Beach to my (and everyone's) old hang out & a San Francisco landmark, The Saloon. Yep, the original blues act with all the same actors is still cranking it out even though its members have arthritis and are collecting social security. The barmaid is a little more crotchety but the beer is still cold. I love this place with its seedy, easy rollin' vibe that welcomes all walks of life. The best was the dead head in a fedora and a hoodie, wearing so many rings it looked like brass knuckles, screaming out Louis' Wonderful World while the bongos thumped in the background. Bongos? Sounds like the smashmix on Indie radio. Or was it the long-haired-pencil-neck-socks-n-Birkenstocks-wearing spaztic dancer? However, it could have been the Lybian transplant with a penchant for wine (served from a BOX, I might add), and women who can hold a conversation from politics and religion to threesomes. Yikes! What do you expect from a place where Marilyn Monroe and Buddha keep company on the wall with Mr. Potato Head, Joe Camel and a fiber-optic Christmas tree, and the bathrooms are painted with graffiti? I love this place. I'm sure I'll be back and find things just as I left it.

So I head up a number of blocks to Cafe Meuse residing at Hyde and Pacific. This is a super cool, super mellow wine bar owned and operated by Eric, a long-time friend of Damon. The wine offerings are extensive and eclectic. My BFF for the night was a 2002 Russion River Red. Of course my limit is 2 but when you're with your best friend... well. One of the things I love best about SF is the people; rarely pretentious and always ready, willing and able to talk about anything. We yucked it up way past closing and luckily the cable car stop was just outside the door.

Lunch with a friend on Monday wrapped up a truly wonderful and relaxing weekend. Oh, I said I would tell you why the airline vouchers were significant. We arrive at the airport in plenty of time only to learn that our flight was delayed. Besides that, they oversold the flight and were looking for volunteers to give up their seats and grab the next flight in 2 hours. I was in the ladies during this announcement so Damon made the decision to take the carrot worth $300. a piece. Sounds like a good deal and an admirable gesture on his part considering the weekend didn't go as planned, except that I vowed I would never again fly on an American Airlines flight. Not only is the staff rude and incendiary, they're ugly with faces to match their personalities and they don't fly anywhere I want to go with any convenience. So here I am again sucked into the vortex of AA. I can't resist a vacation, especially when someone else is paying.

Late Bloomer

I've started thinking about going to Grad school. I'm in the preliminary stages of researching schools and gathering information about entrance exams and admissions. The process takes considerable time and with a trip to Africa in the midst I need to get started now to begin the Fall session 2009. I want to be working in Public Policy and realize that in most instances a Master's degree is required - not to mention compensation is commensurate with qualifications. I've got my sights set on Berkeley but it is extremely competitive so 2nd and 3rd choices (maybe more) are a must. I prefer to stay on the west coast but my interest in International Policy will dictate where I apply. Wish me luck.

House passes gas, I mean wiretap bill

After months of deliberation the Senate gives our fearless leader super powers on surveillance program. According to New York Times writer Eric Lichtblau, "the bill allows the government to eavesdrop on large bundles of foreign-based communications on its own authority so long as Americans are not the targets." Bagh! Are they kidding? They'll be playing I spy with my little eye before you can say Khalid Sheik Muhammad "boards" at Guatanamo Bay. I'm all for catching the bad guys but not at the expense of American civil liberties, including our valued privacy. This is reminiscent of the parable of the frog that leaps out of boiling water but cooks to death if the heat is turned up slowly. What a horrible way to lose your life. 

 

Please heart r earth

In just one year analog television will go the way of the dinosaur. This means that all those sets will be useless and more than likely improperly disposed of. I bid you to speak out and demand that tv manufacturers (and other electronics for that matter) act responsibly and set up programs to take back your tv for proper recycling. I've seen exposes on PBS whereby children in developing countries gut electronics for the copper wiring inside, which can be sold for a few cents, and then the waste is incinerated or dumped in a landfill to fester toxic waste. You can make a conscious choice to thwart these practices and ensure your voice is heard by checking

http://takebackmytv.com/page/speakout/TakeBackMyTV

This has been a public service announcement. White noise to follow...

Stimulus or more supression?

A package designed to jolt our slowing economy needs the Heimlich because it will eventually choke us. Spending is at the core of our problem yet the government is doling out billions of dollars (borrowed from China BTW) with the intent to thrust spending and stave off recession. The inevitability is that consumers will take their measly checks to Walmart and buy Chinese goods plunging us into further debt with China and do nothing of boosting the US economy. At what point do we rein in the madness, accept responsibility and look to the future? I posit that spending, i.e. expensive wars, exorbitant national debt, oil dependency, falling currency value, and general gluttony are the crux of our current macro-economic situation. While the spending stimulus may or may not give us a short term boost it is bound to burden us in the long term. I just don't see the logic that the cesspool our spending habits have created will be mitigated by more spending. Seems to me the oil companies, real estate speculators, commodities hedgers and that ilk are getting a pass for their contributions to the mess while the proletariat bear the brunt. Politically unpopular for sure, it may be the best solution to exercise discipline and restraint for once and let the chips fall where they may. As a hard-line fiscal conservative this package wreaks!

Disenchanted

My elation for the swell in voter turnout is eclipsed by the fact that people go to the polls ill-informed. I muse that Angelenos voted in favor of Measure S, whereby their taxes will be increased, not lowered as the crooked, thieving politicians would have you believe under the guise of preserving critical police and fire service resources. While California got it wrong on Indian gaming, thankfully they decided to boot career legislators not getting the job done.

Establishing fodder for debate and ridicule

I've decided it's time to chronicle my life. Not very interactive but it's a good way to keep up with me and get in on what I'm thinking about. What better place to bloviate than a blog? Granted, my opinions really only matter to me but this is a "safe" and organized way to share my interests and keep my neurons firing. All opposing viewpoints and persuasive argumentation are welcome. Tune in often for riveting (maybe even titillating) blurbs from the burbs of LA.

The buzz word of the year so far is change so I figure on this super-duper-tsunami-election Tuesday I will launch my hopes for change as well. I'm reminded of a graffiti wall I saw in Dublin, IRE a couple of years ago that really struck a chord - a homeless guy pictured with a sign that said "keep your coins I want change". I differ from that guy in that I want both coins AND change. Greedy I guess. The two are often dichotomous if incongruent but I think we can strike a suitable balance.

Go in peace and prosper.