From attorney Isabelle Strauss:

Bill Smith–National Expert On Puppy Mills–on Talking Animals Dec. 2
Talking Animals Dec 02 2009 11:30

My guest on “Talking Animals” Dec. 2 will be BILL SMITH, founder of Main Line Animal Rescue in Pennsylvania, and a nationally-respected expert on puppy mills–he’s been profiled in People and featured on “Oprah”–who received the ASPCA’s Lifetime Achievement Award in 2007.

What may be both surprising and fascinating for many about Smith’s expertise, and where it was honed: Pennsylvania’s Lancaster County is considered the puppy mill capital of the United States, and it’s the Amish and Mennonite farmers living in the area who are at the forefront of practicing this dark business.

Bill Smith will speak with us live on Dec. 2, and listeners are invited to participate in the conversation by calling in (813-239-9663) or e-mailing (DJ@wmnf.org)

http://www.mainlinerescue.com/

http://www.talkinganimals.net/

And so it has come time to deliver on the promise of a more light-hearted blog post.  I find myself having to try very hard to resist the urge to write in explicit detail about my new daughter’s feces.  The color, the consistency, the odor, the quantity and frequency with which it is delivered.  These are all things that I believe are of the utmost importance and entertainment to a new parent.  This is most likely because it is the only thing that they baby is really “doing” with any reliability.  Her eyes will open, the mouth will open or smile (usually when manufacturing one of these presents for us to deal with), she will grab at things, but the bowel movements are the main attraction for the moment.  Don’t get me wrong, I love her very much and my mind has been filled with thoughts about how amazing, enlightening, and infuriating it’s going to be to see this infant grow into a functioning adult over time, but for right now the big surprises are squarely situated in the bottom of Evette’s diapers.  What horrible things lay within?

The only other baby related comment I have to make before getting to the prior planned topic is my little girl’s nose.  It is amusing to see the way that the genetic lottery has treated Evette, with her mother’s eyebrows and mouth and my nose and ears.  I must mention that in my younger days I have had my nose broken several times in overzealous circle pits and slurry passouts on gravel roads.  So it came that the remark, “I didn’t know that you could inherit a broken nose” exited my mouth as I witnessed her slightly skewed nose, with the one nostril nearly imperceptibly folded to one side except for when looking directly up them.  Of course that’s what happens when you pass a tiny human being through an opening that’s designed to only permit things out under extreme duress and pressure.

With that out of my system I come to what I intended to write about since the week before Evette was born:  dish washers.  Not the equipment, but the scrappy and essential staff members of nearly every professional (or unprofessional) kitchen.  The names have been changed to protect the guilty and because I can’t even remember when Easter is let alone some of these guys’ names.

I started working with food with I was sixteen.  It didn’t last long, and I quickly moved on to a local movie theater which I had an on and off employment with, but my first job was scrubbing the dishes, working the fryers, and dropping cryovaced bags of meat into what appeared to be a giant cauldron at a very popular chain which purveys fast food in a genre of food you could call “Bastardized Mexican”.  A good bit of my shift was spent on the three compartment sinks, dodging six-inch quarter hotel pans as they were chucked blindly over the assembly line when they had been emptied of their greasy beef, refried beans, or whichever slop was really doing serious business for the night.  Of course there was the fryer, which I treated with terrified caution due to the stories of my friend Denny (this is not true, I hated Denny) reaching his hand into the four hundred degree oil to retrieve a dropped something-or-other for some idiot reason.  The burns had been described in vivid detail.  The same philosopher of a boy had managed to take the end of his index finger off twice on the same fool-proof machine that was used to dice the tomatoes.  I met his girlfriend at a later job, whose face was colored with undeniable shame when I figured out the relations that had occurred between them, one relation occurring, horribly, the night of one of these tomato machine incidents.  Poor girl.

My next stab at the food industry was at a corporate family restaurant where I was hired as a short order cook, but was generally tasked with cooking, prep, pull thaw, maintenance, and as dish washer.  The grill manager was a man named Francis.  Francis was a middle-aged compulsive liar who claimed to have owned several Harleys (one of which was ridden with Stone Cold Steve Austin), that he had once had a career as an Elvis impersonator, and that he had once been run over by a semitrailer (before being an Elvis impersonator mind you).  All of these stories were told with the utmost attention to detail with a cup of coffee in his hand, usually while you were doing his work for him.  There was nobody full-time in dish, which meant that anybody who put something back there was supposed to get around to it.  Naturally this meant that whoever had the most persistent angel on their shoulder took care of it.  Of course I’m a sucker for some hard work too.  Since I never really had anywhere to go except a bar with my usual collection of failed philosophers and problem drinkers, I often had no problem with staying extra hours to run dish when the inevitable rush would come.  We had a large hotel across the street, which would get hit for the big car shows in Carlisle, so every couple of weekends we would get absolutely pummeled, the grill line scrambling, and the dish counters piling higher than a grown man’s shoulders with half-eaten chicken tenders, pancakes, and the vestiges of various sundaes, sloppy and viscous.  I was later transferred to a higher volume store when the one I was at got closed.

This restaurant had its own dishwashers on staff, which I viewed as a luxury.  Harold, who was the primary maintenance man as well as working dish, was a bit slow to say the least.  He was a man of maybe forty years who generally sported a crew cut and a scruffily maintained mustache and lacked a general knowledge about everything that wasn’t within the restaurant or its parking lot.  He didn’t know who Elvis was, he didn’t know who The Beatles were, he didn’t seem to have seen any movie ever.  He was basically a blank slate who showed up, cleaned and fixed stuff, and always had a bacon-egg sandwich on Saturdays.  The other dish guy, Marty, who showed up to help out on weekends was a bit more of a space case.  Of much larger proportions in his body and eccentricity, Marty would ramble about anything but his favorite topic was how much he liked girls.  He had a dopey sort of doe eyed adoration for certain women, and I never thought that he’d hurt anybody, but he apparently had an encyclopedic memory and had showed up at various servers homes on several occasions because he’d seen their paychecks for a split second.  The presiding knowledge was, “Don’t let Marty see your paycheck”.  Despite their mental shortcomings both men were adequate dishwashers spare for their practice of only dropping plates off at the window that was closest to the dish area, and above all reliable.  I could go on about this place really, the junkie grill line, the flighty servers, or the fiery Bosnian prep cooks, but I must move on.

I must mention that Jena’s workplace used to employ a massive crew of illegals of various nationalities.  I’m never really sure how I feel about the employment of a person that’s not a citizen of the United States, but here’s what happened when the INS showed up looking for green cards.  All of the illegals had done a solid and dependable job with little argument up to the day that they were outed.  After some scant interviews several young men, who this being midstate Pennsylvania were of a decidedly Anglo descent, were hired.  There was constant arguing over who was to do what, backups in the dishroom, just plain sitting on clean dishes instead of taking them to the grill line during service, and cardinal of all sins, fighting with the grill line itself.  Naturally they burned through these young white boys (full of aspirations of gangstahood and bad weed) like a California wild fire.

I put in some time at a particular fine dining establishment in Camp Hill Pennsylvania for a brief spot on Christmas break from culinary school.  The kitchen was practically a closet full of broken equipment, being run by a New York industry vet who had left the scene to settle down with his family.  Packed into this closet were a young Sous named Rick, a new guy running expo, and a highly energetic Guatemalan that we’ll call Juan.  Rick and Juan had a special relationship, in that it was a hobby of Rick’s to take as many verbal pot-shots at Juan as possible, which generally devolved into exchanges which looked something like this:

Rick- “HEY YOU, PENDEJO!  Fuck YOU!”

Juan-”No!  Fuck you!”

R- “Fuck you!”

J- “Fuck you!!”

R- “Fuck you MARRICON, you little faggot!”

J- “CABRON!  Hijo de PUTA!”

R- “Look at this little fucker talking back to me… fuck you!”

J- “Fuck you.”

R- “Fuck yooou!”

J- “FUCK yoooooou!”

And so on.  It was kind of funny and sad at the same time, because Rick’s general distaste for “latins” was pretty transparent, so where to some it was just kitchen shit talk, Rick was genuinely just letting Juan have it.  Juan could, of course, deal with it.  And he could fly through some dishes at just an incredible pace, and in a space that was little more than a corner.

Now I work in the spacious and clean kitchens of a major area college’s dining hall.  The dish crew is staffed by student workers.  This is a dramatic difference to me as most dish washers I’ve come across in my days, those I’ve mentioned, and countless part timers are generally foreign, criminal, or insane.  The students are polite, speak english, and good for conversation about architecture, law, or art.  A couple of them have very developed palates and can give some good thoughts on food that we cook and some are great for conversation.  What they generally don’t like to do is wash dishes.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the guys, and the job gets done (eventually), but I think that there’s just a sense of urgency that’s missing.  Naturally I can’t blame them.  They don’t “need” the job so much as see it as a financial convenience.  They’re already on the way to various careers.

I suppose my only point is that there’s something that comes from the doggedness with which those who can get no other job pursue such distasteful labor.  It’s almost noble.  In the same way that I came to cooking because they wouldn’t take me anywhere else, this is all these guys were able to get, and they work their asses off more often than not.  So no, it’s not always because they can be paid less to do the same job, but because they will do a better job while they’re at it.

I’ll be back next Sunday.

Aaaarrghh! It’s the Long John Silver Waterpark (or maybe it’s Blackbeard) — somewhere in PA near Allentown on the way to turkey dinner.

This is the last part of a series of posts analyzing the swing state Pennsylvania. The previous parts can be found here.

Conclusions

For many decades, Pennsylvania constituted model of Democratic strength based upon working-class votes. Today that is changing, especially in the southwest. For the moment, nevertheless, the swing state Pennsylvania remains Democratic-leaning. This is more because of an unusually strong Democratic machine than any natural liberalism in Pennsylvania.

In 2008 Democrats won Pennsylvania by double-digits, amassing a coalition based upon poor blacks in Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, rich whites in the Philadelphia suburbs, and working-class votes outside Appalachia. It is a strange-looking combination, but it works.

Republicans built their strength upon small towns and exurban communities in “the T,” along with working-class votes in the southwest.

For decades, Republicans have been strengthening in western Pennsylvania, while weakening in eastern Pennsylvania. This map indicates these changes.

Modified NYT Image

Although it doesn’t look like it, the 2008 Democratic candidate (who won by 10.32%) actually did better than the 1992 candidate (who won by 9.02%).

From all this, the best news for Democrats would be the blue shift Philadelphia’s suburbs have undergone. Republicans will take heart in the Appalachan southwest’s even stronger movement right.

I have previously opined that these changes benefit Democrats on the whole. Indeed, this whole series of posts has inclined toward a theory of continuing Democratic strength in Pennsylvania. I will conclude this chain of posts, therefore, with a map Republicans will like – the 2008 Pennsylvania results by municipality. This illustrates how President George W. Bush almost won Pennsylvania in 2004.

We spent Thanksgiving back in PA with Grandma and Pap-pap.  It was a short trip but a lot got packed in and the visit was great.  Even managed to get some snow on our last day there.  Enough to build some snowmen!

If the short visit had at theme it would be “Uno!”

Any idea on who just won?

Did a lot of hiking while the weather was nice.

And woke up to snow on Friday.

I was in Pennsylvania this weekend, visiting.  I asked Matt if he would sit for a few pictures by the big window in his living room.  Window light has become my favorite light for portraits.  

(190:  Cruising in the convertible.)

As you might have been able to tell from yesterday’s post, I’m bored.  Or burnt out.  Either way, I need to shake things up a little so I went searching for prompts to inspire me.  This photo is based on the prompt “speed” and I don’t remember where I found the prompt as I tried several different things before settling on this one.

This photo was taken during our sabbatical adventures in 2007 while cruising around in the convertible with the top down on some back roads in Pennsylvania.  It reminds me of warm summer days, earthy smells, and the feel of the wind on my face and in my hair.

I played around with the photo in Photoshop, ultimately “posterizing” it.  I did several other things but I Photoshop the way I cook:  without a recipe.  I realize that’s a bad idea to most people as it means I can’t duplicate it.  That’s the beauty of it to me — the uniqueness.

I risked my camera more than a few times when we had the convertible.  At some point whenever the top was down (and I wasn’t driving), I’d hold the camera up in the air, above windshield level, and just snap away to see what I’d come up with.  Most of the time I’d capture the hood of the car, but occasionally I managed to point it straight out and capture some of the sensation of speed (as much as you can in the stillness of a photo).

Back in September we decided that our time with the convertible was over.  We traded it in on a new-to-us used car that is more suitable for grandparents and long drives.  The convertible was fun, but it had also acquired quite a bit of mileage and some rust from living in an area prone to snow and ice and salted roads.  It was time to trade it in while we could still get a decent return on it.

Every now and then, when the weather is nice, I miss the convertible.  But I do kind of like the comfort and quietness of our new car when it comes to long car trips.  I hope that doesn’t mean I’m getting old…

What’s new at Blue Mt Ski this year?  Check it out…

In February, Congress rushed through the stimulus bill.  At the time, the president, vice president, and Democratic members of Congress insisted the $787 billion bill of over 1000 pages would keep unemployment below 8.5% (so much for that. The unemployment rate in October, 2009 reached 10.2%,) and get Americans back to work.  http://www.bls.gov/news.release/empsit.nr0.htm

At the time, there was discussion about wasteful spending in the bill, so President Obama assigned Vice President Joe Biden to oversee the stimulus project.

“As part of his duty, Joe will keep an eye on how precious tax dollars are being spent. To you, he’s Mr. Vice President, but around the White House, we call him the Sheriff — because if you’re misusing taxpayer money, you’ll have to answer to him,” the president said.

Biden added, when discussing the possibility that local officials might waste the money:  “I’ll show up in your city and say this was a stupid idea,” he promised. “You think I’m kidding? This is the only part the president was right about: don’t mess with Joe!”  http://tinyurl.com/d8tgny

So here’s a question:  Has anyone in Johnstown, PA, seen “Sheriff” Biden?  $800,000 of stimulus money was used to pave the backup runway at the John Murtha Airport, (named after Democratic Congressman John Murtha.)  The airport’s three daily commercial flights only service D.C.—and about twenty passengers.   Since 1990, the airport has received over $150 million of federal (as in taxpayer’s) money—prior to the stimulus funds.

Surely “the Sheriff” took care of the waste in Johnstown right away.  But, maybe he was too busy in Pawtucket, RI, telling them the $550,000 of stimulus money spent on a skateboard park is a “stupid idea,” or Altoona, PA, (not far from Johnstown) taking away the $819,000 they received for a homelessness prevention program, despite local reports that they may not have enough of a homelessness problem to use it.  (Or maybe the “Sheriff” figures Altoona will need the money after people lose their homes because they can’t pay their taxes.)

Or maybe he was in Washington, NC, which is using stimulus funds to pay for a “project-funding manager” whose job would be to secure even more stimulus funds.  (See lots of other “stupid” stimulus ideas that Joe should be chasing down at:  http://tinyurl.com/ygy3bfd )

According to the government created recover.gov website, http://www.recovery.gov/Pages/home.aspx 640,329 jobs were created OR saved by the stimulus bill as of 10/30/09.  The website hasn’t been updated since the end of October after questions about their claims were raised.  Unfortunately, we can’t advise visiting recovery.gov.  It caused our computer to freeze.

Not to worry, though.  The government is on top of the problem.  They’ve decided to rework and update recovery.gov.  http://tinyurl.com/ktzsr7 The contract calls for spending $9.5 million through January, 2010, and up to $18 million through 2014.  (Should be one heck of a website—especially for a “temporary” program.)

Ironically, “Sheriff” Biden hasn’t had anything to say about that waste of taxpayer dollars either.

Since recovery.gov and Biden are busy with their website instead of riding herd over misspent stimulus dollars, The Washington Examiner has taken up the cause.  They’ve created a website (and we bet it didn’t cost $18 million dollars) that reports exaggerations or misstatements about stimulus spending.    http://tinyurl.com/ylkbbhb

The site so far asserts that the government’s claim of the stimulus saving 640,329 jobs has been overstated by 90,637 jobs.  And they’re continuing to update the numbers as more mistakes, misstatements, and outright lies are reported.

Remember:  Don’t Mess With Joe!

aln

These lyrics from the song “Beneath the Cross of Jesus” have been a source of sweet meditation ever since I first heard that song on one of Soundforth’s recent CDs.  How unworthy I am of God’s love in Christ, but how blessed is the privilege to hear His welcome voice calling me to come to Him for cleansing!  I am most thankful for the cross of Christ during this time of year and always.

I’m also thankful that I’m at my South Carolina home (i.e., my mom’s place).  It’s been wonderful to be in the warm, sunny south.  I even enjoyed grits for the first time this past week.  It’s actually the second time I had them, but I didn’t enjoy the first attempt, since I was anticipating cream of wheat.  That was almost 20 years ago in the BJU Dining Common.  I’ve cursed grits ever since.  But when they came with my meal at Cracker Barrel, I decided to set aside my prejudices and give them another try.  I’ll never curse grits again!  They were actually quite good!

I praise the Lord for keeping me safe as I traveled throughout Pennsylvania during the fall.  I actually left Grand Rapids, MI, on September 10.  From then until this past Tuesday night (i.e., about 11 weeks), I had to live out of my suitcase, bouncing around from one house to another.  I would usually change locations after about 3 days, though a few times I stayed in the same place for 7 days in a row.  I’m so thankful for all the gracious hosts and churches that provided me places to stay, but it sure is nice to be in the same place now for more than 7 days in a row.  Of course, I head to Haiti on Saturday, so it’s not much more than 7 days for this stay.  But I’ll be in Greenville for the entire second half of December and the first full week of January, so that will be really nice.

I thank the Lord for keeping me safe as I traveled over 6,000 miles since September 10.  I did have some problems with my tires slipping on the rain soaked roads one day a few weeks ago, but the Lord kept me safe as I traveled back across Pennsylvania for the 6th time and led me to a Christian mechanic who hooked me up with some nice tires. 

Three of the 15 pastors, whose churches I visited during this past stint in PA, were quite favorable about supporting me and were going to bring it before the church for a vote very soon.  Another pastor was quite positive and was encouraging the church to take me on.  At least two other churches were greatly impacted by my ministry presentation and seemed to want to start supporting me.  Please pray! 

I praise the Lord that one supporter increased their monthly support and a new supporter committed to start supporting me.  That brings my support level to 55%!  Praise the Lord!

It was a blessing to attend Dr. John Dreisbach’s funeral service today.  I pray that I will be faithful to the Lord all my days as that godly man was!  What an example of faithfulness he has left for us! 

Next week I will spend most of my time preparing for the Haitian Creole OT workshop.  Please pray for me as I work through Psa 6-10 and Gen 6-10.  I’ll be comparing the French backtranslation with the Hebrew text.  I might even sneak a peak at the Creole once in a while, since it’s very similar to French.  Pray also that I’ll be able to get some French sermons ready to preach.

Forget shopping on Black Friday, I wanted to take advantage of my surroundings.  I hadn’t done touristy Philadelphia since 1990 when I was 11 years old, and I thought it was time to see some sights again.

My first trip to Philadelphia - summer 1990 (11 years old)

We didn’t get moving too fast in the morning, but around noon, Matt’s dad, Stew, escorted Matt and me downtown.  Our first stop was Independence Hall, but tour tickets (which are free) were sold out for the remainder of the day, so we headed over to see the Liberty Bell.

Me and Matt walking from Independence Hall to the Liberty Bell

Like father, like son...I should have given a "say cheese"

It's really hard to get a personal picture in front of the Liberty Bell. This one is pretty close expect for Matt's conscience on his shoulder.

After the Liberty Bell, we went to the Independence Visitor Center to decide what to do next.  Since we didn’t have a lot of time, and it was cool and windy out, we decided on the Ride the Ducks tour based on the WWII DUKW amphibious design vessels.

They have window coverings to keep it somewhat warmer, and despite the cool weather our tour bus/boat was full.  Ride the ducks also gives “quackers” to all participants (see above video) that can be quiet obnoxious, but can add quiet a bit of fun too.  I, however, would recommend the tour for families with kids on a warm summer day.

On the DUKW in the Delaware River with the Ben Franklin Bridge in the background.

After the tour we had about a half hour before we needed to head to the airport, so I decided we should drive up to the Philadelphia Museum of Art and snap some pictures on the “Rocky Steps.”

Rocky statue outside the Museum of Art

That's me running up the "Rocky Steps" of the Philadelphia Museum of Art

Beautiful view of the Philly skyline from the top of the steps.

And after this photo is was time to get to the airport.  A quick couple days in PA.

Just outside Philadelphia, Pennsylvania is Blue Bell, where Matt’s dad, Stew, lives. Knowing that we were going to spend the Thanksgiving holiday there, I searched online to find a “Turkey Trot” in the area.  Matt and I, along with my mom and her friend Kristy,  did the Minneapolis Turkey Trot last year, and it was a great way to start Turkey-day.  It forced me to get up and moving in the morning instead of waiting around all day to eat, which is what I typically feel like I’m doing.  It’s also feels good when you sit down to dinner later, knowing you had a good workout earlier in the day.

I was primarily using Active.com, finding a few races that looked promising, when I switched over to Runner’s World Race Finder.  There I found a race that wasn’t listed on the previous site, the Abington YMCA Gobble Wobble, only 11 miles from Blue Bell.  I was immediately attracted to this race because there was not only a 5K run, but also a 2 mile walk, and seemed very family oriented.  Not knowing if anyone else (Matt’s dad, his wife Karen, Matt’s brother Nate or fiance Cathy) would want to join us, it left the door open for different abilities. I also like that the race was officially timed (results), as I learned last year at the Minneapolis Turkey Trot that a race (for me) isn’t as rewarding if I don’t have an official time (I don’t care what my watch says.)  The course is also USATF certified.

As it turns out, nobody else entered the event, but Stew went to the YMCA in advance and picked up our race bag, complete with race numbers, timing chips, long-sleeve T-shirts and many coupons for local vendors.  On Thursday morning, he also drove us to the event, and Cathy came along as well.  I handed my camera over to Cathy and told her to have fun and take lots of pictures.  Here’s a sampling.

Me and Matt outside the Abington YMCA at dawn

Posing for a quick photo on the way to the starting area

The starting line ready to go, don't miss the Turkey

There were 1184 runners in the 5K. I wasn't ready for those hills.

Stew and Cathy passing the time, waiting for us to return

Matt (in blue) on his stadium finish lap. He finished in 24:06.

Me on my stadium finish lap, finishing in 30:38, a personal record!

We look exhausted!

A family in the holiday spirit

Just a sampling of the post race treats. There was also bagels, cereal and fresh fruit.

This morning I joined a group of York members of the Pennsylvania Firearms Owners Association (PAFOA) for breakfast and a short range session. The morning started at the Stoneybrook Restaurant with copious amounts of coffee and cholesterol.
After a hearty breakfast about 10 of us headed to Starview Sportsmens Club to shoot handguns. A nice selection of guns were present and everyone freely offered up the pistols for our new friends to shoot.
It was really nice meeting up with all the fellow gun owners that showed up for the breakfast and shoot.

The states impacted are as follows:  AK, AL, AR, AZ, CA, CO, CT, DC, DE, FL, GA, HI, IA, ID, IL, KS, MD, ME, MI, MN, MS, MT, NC, ND, NE, NH, NJ, NM, NV, NY, OH, OK, OR, PA, RI, SD, TX, WI, WV and WY.

To find the rate adjustments, go to our Resource Center (Log in Required):

• Company = AARP
• State = (Pick your State)
• Product = Medicare Supplement
• Resource = Rates

I came up here to help out my family a couple weeks ago now, and will be up here, maybe permanently….
I’m staying in the West Shore area, near Harrisburg, but of course, I am always willing to travel!

Los Angeles twangsmith Greg Koons writes from the perspective of a poor kid from off of Route 83 in Pennsylvania, though now he’s all grown up and carrying the hard-hurting freight of life and love, which live in a solid set of songs on his full-length debut. Welcome to the Nowhere Motel is full of jangle-and-strum roots-pop: “There but by the Grace of God Go I”, with its Buddy Holly-like vocal delivery, is the catchy handclapper; “Janey’s Got a New Boyfriend” chugs with an early ‘80s hit, FM melody; and “A Picture of My Pa Before He Died in Vietnam” (this dude’s got a knack for titles) stomps with an ironic exuberance. Koons is most memorable, though, when he slows it down on tender, lovesick ballads with Springsteenian detail, either bumming out over the failed promise of Los Angeles or singing the prettiest song you’ll ever hear about falling in love with a beaten-up hooker in a truck-stop bathroom.

Found at http://www.popmatters.com/pm/review/110839-greg-koons-and-the-misbegotten-welcome-to-the-nowhere-motel

For # 4 click here

For # 5 click here

A biker was injured on November 8 when his motorcycle left the road and went over an embankment on Clinton-Frankfort Road.  he was taken to Presbyterian Hospital in Oakland.  No injuries were reported for his passenger.

It is possible that excessive speed or a lack of familiarity with the road contributed to the cause of this accident.  When a crash like this occurs, the motorcycle operator faces personal injuries and a possible claim against him should a passenger on the motorcycle be injured.  For more information on motorcycle accidents, please visit my Beaver County Motorcycle Accident Attorney Webpage.

Church and State separation is being followed in Washington:

It’s also being followed in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania:

Poor Fox News.

And also in Pennsylvania, the Freethought Society of Greater Philadelphia, which my brother is involved with, has put up their new annual holiday display, the Tree of Knowledge.

This is my favorite of all the holiday season displays because it says all the right things. It’s not even an atheist display. It’s about promoting the free marketplace of ideas. On the tree are the covers of numerous books including philosophy texts, various religious holy books, and books of religious criticism by the so-called “New Atheist” aurthors. I hope that next year, other cities will follow suit with their own Tree of Knowledge displays, particularly New York. This definitely looks like a job for New York’s Center For Inquiry.

Happy Season of Reason everybody!

Global-warming skeptics say leaked messages show professor Michael E. Mann, distorted facts

Penn State scientist in hot seat over global warming e-mails

By Editor  Thursday, November 26, 2009

A Penn State University science professor is at the center of the firestorm over an anonymous hacker’s release of more than 1,000 once-private e-mails sent by global warming scientists.

Michael E. Mann, director of Penn State’s Earth System Science Center, is marked as author, recipient or subject of several of the e-mails, which skeptics say are proof that Mann and others have been distorting data to make the case for global warming.

Mann has denied any manipulation of facts, but skeptics are pointing to one e-mail in particular as evidence that he and others have engaged in a statistical deception to hide drops in global temperatures and exaggerate warming trends.

CFP

This is the fifth part of an analysis of the swing state Pennsylvania. It focuses on the traditionally Republican region between the Democratic strongholds in the southeast and southwest.

Pennsyltucky

Outside the Pittsburgh and the Philadelphia metropolis, Pennsylvania is a very different place. Political analysts often label this area “the T,” while others call it Pennsyltucky.

Popular culture mythologizes Pennsyltucky as red-neck capital – a rural region dominated by NASCAR-loving red-necks. Politically, James Carville compared Pennsyltucky to Alabama without the blacks.

In fact, this stereotype is inaccurate on two accounts. Firstly, Pennsyltucky contains far more than so-called rural red-necks; most of its counties are fairly populated (they are far more densely peopled than, say, rural Arkansas). Secondly, many of these supposedly NASCAR-loving red-necks also belong to the local union and vote Democratic on economic issues. The majority may support Republicans, but that majority certainly is below the 88% of Alabama whites that voted for John McCain.

Nevertheless, the “T” does constitute the Republican base in Pennsylvania. Former president George W. Bush pulled 48.42% of the state’s vote in 2004, and he had to get those votes somewhere.

(Note: This statistic, and all the ones mentioned afterwards, come from http://uselectionatlas.org/)

Pennsylvania’s 2006 Senate election provides a geographic illustration of this base. In that election, former Senator Rick Santorum lost by a landslide 17.36% margin; only the reddest counties supported him:

Although they cover a lot of land, not all these counties are rural enclaves of Pennsyltucky (if they were all rural, Senator John Kerry would have won by double-digits in the state). In fact, fast-growing exurbs constitute a substantial source of Republican votes. Located east of the Philadelphia metropolis, these are somewhat wealthy and mostly white. They include Lancaster County (where Bush won 65.80% of the vote) and York County (where he won 63.74%); the former president came out of these two counties with a 121,832 margin, enough to offset Pittsburgh, Erie, and Scranton.

Erie and Scranton both constitute solidly blue areas belonging to “the T.” They give lie to the myth that all Pennsyltucky votes loyally Republican. Like the southwest, Erie and Scranton contain a number of working-class Democrats; unlike the southwest, however, cultural appeals have not swayed these folk into voting Republican.

Indeed, Democrats do respectably in many parts of Pennsyltucky. Here is President Barack Obama’s performance:

Modified NYT Image

Mr. Obama did not just win Erie and Scranton; he took several other counties and ran closely elsewhere. These included Centre County, home to Pennsylvania State University, and Dauphin County, which has a relatively high black population. All the Lehigh Valley – somewhat an extension of Philadelphia’s suburbs – voted for the president. More surprisingly, Obama ran very closely in several rural, lily-white regions of the T; one such county (Elk) even gave the president a 4% margin of victory.

Obama was not the only Democrat to do well in parts of Pennsyltucky. Here is how former president Bill Clinton performed:

Modified NYT Image

Mr. Clinton, of course, was a fellow with immense appeal to so-called “red-necks.” Since his time, much of Pennsyltucky has moved to the right. Yet not all of it is deep-red: while some counties gave Mr. McCain more than 70% of the vote, others – demographically identical – gave him barely more than 50%. These are substantial and curious variations.

While Pennsyltucky as a whole votes strongly Republican, it is wrong to generalize the area. Its most populous regions – the exurbs – constitute a vital part of the Republican coalition, while some rural counties have a fairly weak Republican habit. Finally, a number of places dependent upon industry routinely support Democrats. To stereotype the “T” as a composed solely of Republican-voting red-necks would do injustice to the region’s complexities.

Charles will once again be offering collectors and fans of his illustration work a Christmas holiday special.  This year, the special will include a free print of your choice.  In addition, the artist will include a free limited edition pastel print of the Joseph Horne Co. Christmas tree.  The lighting of the Horne’s Christmas tree has been a long-standing family tradition in the city of Pittsburgh.

The Joseph Horne Co., often referred to simply as Horne’s by Pittsburghers was an iconic regional department store located in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.   It was one of the oldest department stores in the country after being founded by Joseph Horne (1826-1891) in 1849.   The department store chain operated for nearly 145 years until it ceased operation in 1994 after it merged with Lazarus, a division of the Federated Dept. Stores, Inc.

Joseph Horne was born in Bedford County, Pennsylvania.  He moved to Pittsburgh where landed his first job in the retail trade with Christian Yeager.   At age of 23, he bought F.H. Eaton store and eventually renamed it the Joseph Horne Co.   It became the leading department store in Pittsburgh, along with Kaufmann’s lasting for generations.   In 1879, a new central location was built at the corner of Penn Avenue and Stanwix Street.   The building was a 7-story landmark and the first department store in the city’s downtown district.   The annual lighting of the Horne’s Christmas Tree at their flagship store was a long held family Christmas tradition.   The Christmas tree display was six stories high and erected on the building’s corner.  Although the store ceased operation, it remains a tradition with Pittsburgh’s annual Light-Up Night festivities.   Crowds would also gather during the Christmas season to view the Christmas display windows, which often were very elaborate and included animated moving characters.

Charles thanks the many people from around the world who have visited his website at http://www.steelcityartist.com  and continue to be wondered by the artist’s incredible artwork.   Charles would like to wish you and your family the blessings for a Merry Christmas and Happy Holiday.

This is the year of Taylor Swift.  America loves her.  Not just 14 year-old girls twittering about New Moon.  What is so universally likeable about this 5’11” Pennsylvania native?  She’s truly different.  She’s herself.  And she’s kinda dorky.

She’s normal.  Down to Earth.  And most importantly, genuinely humble.  And for a mega-celebrity, that makes her stick out.  In a very good way.

I have so much respect for Taylor Swift.  Not because of her clever songs which she writes herself (which is extremely rare in Country music) or her superstar status.  But instead, her extreme maturity for her young age.  And her sincerity. 

And while much of old school Nashville sourly balks at her success, there is a reason she has made it this far at age 19.  She has the ability to connect with other people.  No matter how well a song is written or performed, it’s the feeling that a listener can relate to the artist and/or the song that causes popularity.

Her character was epitomized during that pivotal Kanye West moment.  She didn’t defend herself.  She didn’t get angry.  She didn’t cry.  She didn’t run off stage.  She just stood there. 

And while she has allowed the media around her to poke fun at Kanye’s actions in her presence (SNL and the CMA Awards, in particular) she hasn’t bitterly belittled Kanye West via television or Internet. 

That’s not what we are used to seeing.  That’s different.  That’s unique.  That’s class.  She set her self apart from everything artificial we could assume about someone in the entertainment industry.

Last night I tuned in to watch The Office but instead of that being on, NBC had a special about the most intriguing people of 2009.  They saved Taylor Swift to the very end.  In her interview she explained that she has always been herself and how important that is to her.

She’s right.  That’s a lot of why so many people are drawn to her.  (She sold on Madison Square Gardens in literally one minute.)  She’s real. 

Taylor Swift doesn’t have to sell her music by dancing in skimpy shorts while pretending an ice cream stand is a dance pole at a strip club.  Or kiss Madonna at an awards show.  Or try to be edgy in any way.  She doesn’t have to try to be anything.  She just is.  Herself.

She’s just Taylor Swift.  And despite her outward appearance and her talent, she has a dorky side that shows through.  That vulnerability and humbleness intrigues people.

Authenticity is hard to come by.