(FP’ed 3:30 AM EDT, Wednesday, October 3, 2007

– promoted by exmearden)

Samson was going all out, catching a stride that almost felt like floating. Though he was more known for his cutting skills, and bravery among bulls, he was showing me in a pinch he could also be a race horse. But even with his gallant effort, he was still a good five lengths back from the steed carrying my rose.

Down we galloped into valley, playing lover’s games as rode down tree-lined country lanes. She would look back, her long black hair flowing like pozos lit by an angel’s halo from the large Mexican harvest moon. We raced towards the music that was waffing over the next ridge.

Samson did his best to catch her filly, since he felt the same about that horse as I did it’s rider, but it was all for not. You can never truly ever catch a rancher’s daughter from the El Bajio. 

She was starting to dance in her saddle to the music of the band once she got to the ridge, moving the way only latinas can. Samson parked next to her, and I could see the stars reflecting in her huge almond eyes. We decided to give the horses, and ourselves, some alone time.

“So it’s back to gringolandia with el pinche tejano, eh?” she said, still slightly doing a salsa dance step.

“Time to get back to my people,” I replied, grabbing her by the waist, locking my fingers into her cowgirl’s belt.

“But you said it you were going to New York, not Tejas,” she sighed as she turned and faced me.

“I am a man of the world now, and that is the world’s capital,” I said, brushing away strands of black silk she called hair.

“Will you ever come back?”

“I will always be here.”

“How?”

“When you look up to the stars, remember no matter how far I have gone from this place, right here, right now, I am looking up at the same stars thinking about this moment with you.”

“And how does this moment end?”

“Like this,” I whispered as I drew her to me and gave her the long last sweet kiss good-bye.

And so ended our adventures together, and so did end my Mexico session.

———————————-

And this also ends my Docudharma session. I had been telling buhdydharma that I was thinking about leaving for a bit now, and it’s time to move on.

It’s an eyeball thing for me, so I’m gonna go finish my books now. I will stop drop by on odd moons and drop some tales on you, but for now, I gotta go pick up some checks.

————————————–

Where I get my Top Five Favorite Things:

1) http://www.boingboin…

2) http://reddit.com/

3) http://www.digg.com/

4) http://www.wikipedia…

5) The Google.

—-

Adios, and always remember, no matter where you go, there you are, no matter the session.

(10pm ET Trippin Tuesday will be up later. This is much more important. – promoted by On The Bus)

Not what I thought was going to pour from my fingertips yesterday but you know how those freaky muses are.  Besides, Sun Tsu never met a weakening of his enemies defenses he didn’t like.

Feels like such an odd diary to write since I don’t even want anybody I know to be involved in the Iraq War.  I don’t get a choice though in the matter and we have thrown in the towel on getting out any time in the near future so please allow me to focus constructively on something that can be done and affects all those on the ground in Iraq.

The first time I ever read a word about “contractors” in Iraq was when reading an account of Sean Penn’s 2nd Iraq visit.

In lieu of explaining this in the Arabic I don’t speak, I await the commander of this yet-unidentified militia. When he arrives, I am searched. It is not the casual search of amateurs, but rather of people who believe they are going to find a weapon. And then the commander speaks. He speaks in English, reviewing the passport and press credential he has pulled from my pocket. He speaks in good English. This man is no Iraqi. But I can’t make out his accent. Perhaps South African.

And then he is joined by another man dressed in what I would call militarized CIA garb: combat boots with camouflage pants tucked into them, topped by a civvy shirt with an identification tag on a long chain around his neck that cannot be read in the darkness of the alley. This one speaks Texas. I’m asked the whys and wherefores of my presence and camera. I am informed that the building being guarded had been car-bombed the previous day and that they will need to review the videotape and detain me for as long as that takes. It seems they are concerned that their fortification is being, in some way, reconned for further attack. I ask with innocent curiosity who I am dealing with.

The Texan curtly informs me, “I work for DynCorp.”

I ask for a business card.

Just as curtly, he says, “I don’t have a card,” then points at the chained identification around his neck, “only this ID.”

Of course, we are still in the dark, and it is still illegible. Although the Kalashnikovs have by now been lowered, further questions don’t seem to be on the invitation list. And rather than ask them to shine their own flashlights on their identification, I take the “Yes, sir,” “No, sir” route as they check the car and its contents for weapons and explosives.

The Texan tells me that when the Iraqis under his charge complete their search, I will be permitted to check that the contents of my bag are intact. They sit my driver and me on a concrete curb, still in the shadows of the alley. I distract myself by rolling the word DynCorp around in my head. Something about “The Parallax View” comes to mind. Something with a scent, redolent of war profiteering.

A third officer exits the building — another Westerner with a short, cropped beard. It seems it is his job to review the tape I had shot. We sit in the cold night air under guard as the three officers retreat into the building with my camera. It will be another half hour before they return. And the third officer returns my camera, acknowledging that I have only shot what could be seen of their fortification by any civilian on the street and they have not deemed it necessary to erase it. I thank them for their professionalism without commenting on their lack of humor.

My spouse was in Iraq back then, his next phone call home I told him I was feeling a little distressed as to why we needed hired guns in Iraq (and this was way before the Army was broken all to hell okay).  He told me that he hadn’t really run into anything like that……I guess he should have said “YET” but at least I got to think that Penn might be a bit of a crazy hippy or something for awhile……at least till my husband’s next letter home which was a little puzzled and unsettled about the hired guns he had finally ran into and why they were there or even needed.  When he finally came home and told me to my face what he thought about the hired guns in Iraq it was about the same time that something bad happened to a few of those contractors in Fallujah, which was the neighborhood my husband hung out in during his vacation in Iraq.  Then Kos soiled himself 😉 and I cheered him on all the way because I had sort of been told a few things that I had no proof of, just hearsay about how some of the contractors “behaved” when visiting Fallujah.

Then on May 28, 2005 nineteen employees of a U.S. contracting firm – including 16 Americans – were detained by U.S. troops in Fallujah for three days after allegedly firing on Marine checkpoints in the Iraqi city.

Then we all got to see this

Then something needed happened in January of 2007 and U.S. Military Contractors operating in combat zones are now subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ). Congress quietly made this change as part of the FY 2007 Military Authorization Act.

The provision makes a very small, but important change to Article 2 of the UCMJ. Under previous law, the UCMJ only applied to civilians in combat areas during periods of war declared by Congress.

Paragraph a (10) of Article 2 originally read, “(10) In time of war, persons serving with or accompanying an armed force in the field.”

And on May 10, 2007 Jeremy Scahill testified before the House Appropriations Subcommittee on Defense on the impact of private military contractors on the conduct of the Iraq War and had this to say…..

They have not been prosecuted under the UCMJ, under US civilian law or under Iraqi law. US contractors in Iraq reportedly have their own motto: “What happens here today, stays here today.” That should be chilling to everyone who believes that warfare, above all government functions, must be subject to transparency, accountability and the rule of law.

These are forces operating in the name of the United States of America. Iraqis do not see contractors as separate from soldiers–understandably, they see them all as “the occupation.” Contractor misconduct is viewed as American misconduct.

As well as this………

Brig. Gen. Karl Horst of the 3rd Infantry Division became so outraged by contractor unaccountability that he began tracking contractor violence in Baghdad. In just two months he documented twelve cases of contractors shooting at civilians, resulting in six deaths and three injuries. That is just two months and one general.

And if you have the time here’s the video

And Now we have Can’t Win with ‘Em, Can’t Go To War without ‘Em: Private Military Contractors and Counterinsurgency, Foreign Policy at Brookings, Policy Paper #4, September 2007″

The use of private military contractors appears to have harmed, rather than helped the counterinsurgency efforts of the U.S. mission in Iraq. Even worse, it has created a dependency syndrome on the private marketplace that not merely creates critical vulnerabilities, but shows all the signs of the last downward spirals of an addiction. If we judge by what has happened in Iraq, when it comes to private military contractors and counterinsurgency, the U.S. has locked itself into a vicious cycle. It can’t win with them, but can’t go to war without them.

And I probably ought to bring up the latest Contractors Gone Wild video…

Iraqi investigators have a videotape that shows Blackwater USA guards opened fire against civilians without provocation in an incident last week in which 11 people died, a senior Iraqi official said Saturday. He said the case had been referred to the Iraqi judiciary.

David, I have read the current United States Military Counterinsurgency Manual that you mostly wrote.  I know you aren’t a stupid man.  I’m pissed at ya though, mighty pissed because you know that acts of lawlessness done by anybody affiliated with the USA in Iraq blow our whole counterinsurgency dynamic.  I don’t even agree with your shpiel but the powers that be have said that that’s what we are going with so let’s do it………but you aren’t even doing it!  Dealing with these contractors isn’t rocket science David, you were given what you needed to handle this situation in January this year and most of these lawless assholes are exmilitary.  They know the fricken rules for Christ sake!  It really doesn’t take a Brookings Institute Study to know this whole situation regarding military contractors stinks to high heaven of genocide and murder and maybe we need their help in ending this type of contracting work but we don’t need them to handle the contractors in Iraq.  We need you and you aren’t stepping up buddy to hold anybody accountable who isn’t in uniform.  You betray me and my children by placing their father in unneeded harms way acting the way you are, you betray all of the other soldiers and their families as well, you betray the American taxpayer who doesn’t even want to be in Iraq but they are and now you squander their treasure even more by not sticking to your own counterinsurgency rules of engagement, and you betray the country and the people and the government of Iraq most of all. Start doing your job David as the United States Commander in Iraq or I’m going to have to start calling you General David Betrayus along with all those loopy NeoCons who called you that long before MoveOn.org did.  Let’s get on this soldier!

Friday Night
Dave Holland, Gonzalo Rubalcaba, Chris Potter, Eric Harland

Dave Holland is a cerebral bassist whose works are always introspective and interesting. Rubalcaba is a fine Cuban pianst whose powerful playing
helps set off Holland’s quieter moods. A great, tight group-very cool.

John McLaughlin and the 4th Dimension

McLaughlin is a great musician and guitarrist. He was back to his 70’s fusion style here though, and with the rain starting, it was an ordeal. Too many notes.

Issac Delgado

Listened to him on the way home, in the pouring rain. As the arena venue is outside, we bailed before the deluge hit. September rain is very rare here. Wasn’t particularly impressed with what I heard, kind of popish and certainly not the latin standard of Puente or Tjader in years past.

Saturday Afternoon-dedicated to the blues

James Hunter

This guy was on fire! An English band doing 50’s style blues and rock & roll. Hunter was funny, energetic and capable of sounding like anyone from Sam Cook to Chuck Berry, to Fats Domino Little Richard and James Brown. He had a falsetto he could reach that was better than Brown’s screech and the moves to back it up. Very entertaining…give him a listen, but in person is the key.

Otis Taylor Band

Son of a blues legend, Taylor had his charming and beautiful daughter playing bass for him. Started his set playing banjo to a strong Louisiana blues backing. Went on to range over some traditional material. He was kind of reticent at first, but when he wound up, he was down on the arena floor shouting the blues and revving the joint up. Kind of a cajun smoked Delta sound.

Los Lobos

Tim Jackson, the festival head, must feel its necessary to bring in rock and roll groups that have a kind of appeal to younger fans or potential ticket buyers. Too loud, too much rock and roll. Short on blues and feeling.

Saturday Night

Terence Blanchard Quintet with Monterey Jazz Festival Chamber Orchestra – PREMIERING “REQUIEM FOR KATRINA”

One of the festival highlights for me. Very moving work done with string orchestral backing. Fantastic quintet with all the players very very good.  Place was as quiet as I’ve ever heard it, befitting the subject matter and  musical excellence.  This is out in CD….see if you can listen to it…beautifully done.

Gerald Wilson Orchestra with Special Guest Kenny Burrell Premiering “Monterey Moods”

Gerald Wilson is 89 and still leading, with gusto and verve, his own long standing band in his own composition comissioned for the fest. I didn’t like the pieces, all built around a 3 note theme to suggest the word Mon-te-rey, all that much, but there were moments. Kenny Burrell is a legend and a hero of mine as a jazz guitarrist whose playiing covers every facet of the guitar repetoire. He seemed a little out of place with the big band, and his playing wasn’t up to what I remember. Not the best use of his talents. But he too is getting older…must be in later 60’s now.?

Diana Krall

Had just seen her in concert in May at the Mountain Winery. Was impressed here with how she’d gotten her piano chops back into shape after marriage/twins. Her voice and sensibility with lyrics, as always, fantastic. She has matured into a confident and engaging performer.
Backed up by her trio plus Jeff Hamilton on drums. John Clayton, her bassist, and Hamilton have their own big band based in LA and are both consumate side-men. Her guitarrist, Anthony Wilson, is becoming quite a fine player and happens to be Gerald Wilson’s son. He also performed with his father on the Monterey Moods piece.

Sunday Afternoon:

Los Angeles County High School For The Arts / Winning Big Band from the Next Generation Festival Orchestra

Got there a bit late on Sunday p.m. The day is devoted to kids from all over showing off how they’ll keep jazz alive in the face of all the crappy pop stuff crowding the airwaves. It is always astounding to hear how sophisticated these youngsters are. They play their butts off, leaning into the music as only a teenager can do, with boundless energy and complete abandon. I missed this first group, but many were part of the next act as well.

Next Generation Jazz Orchestra with Artist-In-Residence Terence Blanchard

Blanchard played with these kids, not in front of them. It was great to watch him interact with all the players, from guitar to bass, and of course, with the horn section. The band played some very complex stuff, full of great harmonies and capped by high quality soloists.

Ornette Coleman 3 Bass Quintet

Its as hard to say anything meaningful about Ornette as it is to understand him sometimes. His quintet was a trip to listen to. Acoustic bass, stand-up electric bass, and a five-string ‘guitar’ bass w/ drums.
He played some of his typical avant avant avant guard stuff, and also some beautiful new stuff with haunting rhythms formed by all the crossing bass lines beneath his solos. Drummer was playing some amazing rhythmic stuff tying it all together. A couple of the pieces were so loaded w/harmonic overtones is was like listening to gongs playing melody…very cool. Then some of it was honk and squawk…which I’ve never resonated with, but one thing is for sure, Ornette is in a musical class by himself as a thinker and performer.

Sunday Evening:

Monterey Jazz Festival 50th Anniversary All-Stars with Terence Blanchard, Nnenna Freelon, Benny Green, James Moody, Kendrick Scott & Derrick Hodge

Benny Green was leading this. He is a great young pianist with a powerful, be-bop influenced attack. The band was very tight and Blanchard’s quintet made up the backbone playing again with verve,
agility and feeling. Green was very engaging, I had no idea he was so young.  I didn’t particularly care for Nnenna Freelon’s vocals, but I don’t fault here, I don’t the arrangements were were suited to her talents.

Dave Brubeck Quartet with special guest Jim Hall

I would bet this was Dave’s last visit. He seemed quite old and frail, getting up slowly from the piano, and not saying very much except with his music. I had tears in my eyes listening as it took me back to my own youth in the early ’60’s when Brubeck was my introduction to jazz which became a lifelong love for me. Listening to Take 5, I could actually see myself on my bed, reading and digging Time Out/Time Further Out etc.,
and dreaming of how I would make it big as a flamenco player. Sweet and bitter sweet. Dave’s playing was great, given his age 84/5, and his band, all older guys, were as cool as can be. Jim Hall, like Burrell with Wilson, seemed a little lost, as though there hadn’t been much rehersal together. Hall is another of my guitar heroes, a guitarist in the Bill Evans mode of introspection.

Sonny Rollins

Knocked down the house completely. His colossal frame staggering around with his horn, blowing like a madman, bent to his task with love, passion and consummate feeling. His band was tearing it up behind him,
keeping him up and on top of his game. His last number was a long, extended caribbean-oriented piece a la St. Thomas that just blew us all away. He got standing O’s after every piece it seemed, and at the end, vowed to be back 50 years from now to play again as he did at the first festival. If you could have seen and heard him, of that you’d have no doubt!

So….50 years of jazz at Monterey in the books. One of the reasons I ended up here was because I wanted to be close to this, to feel the vibe, and to see my heros play before they went into the dark. I’ve been fortunate, in the last 25 years, to have attended a good many of them.
I got to see Diz, Tjader, Tito Puente, Oscar Peterson, Sarah Vaughn…on and on…never saw Miles or Bill Evans though, damnit. This year was a treat, because at almost 60, I realize I may not have all that much longer to listen, and the greats are passing from our lives all too quickly.

Assorted thoughts, links, musings…

I recommend the excerpt from the late David Halberstam’s book, The Coldest Winter: America and the Korean War, in this month’s Vanity Fair magazine (and online). Did anyone notice the resemblance between the delusional leader, General Douglas MacArthur, and another delusional leader who occupies the White House? Or between MacArthur’s principle intelligence chief, Major General Charles A. Willoughby, who falsified intelligence reports to justify a war campaign, and others, more contemporary, who shall remain nameless.

The Korean War is a lost war to American consciousness, if you are under 50 years of age, or even 60. But the lessons of that “police action” run deep, if anyone wishes to mine them.

I can also recommend Stephen Soldz’s series on racism in the public schools, starting with this article, “School Discipline, the New “Racist” Frontier”:

The world has become aware through the story of the Jena 6, that racism is alive and well in our nations schools. Yesterday I posted the horrific story of the racist attack in the school lunchroom on a schoolgirl who dropped a piece of cake in Palmdale, CA [see this post and this one]. Perhaps most horrifying was that, when the girl’s mother, a school system employee herself, went to talk to the school administration and demanded that the racist guard be arrested, the mother was arrested instead.

Then there is Deborah Mayer, a 20-year teacher who was let go by her Bloomington, Indiana school district because she admitted to her class before the Iraq War that

…she blew her horn whenever she saw a “Honk for Peace” sign, and that peaceful solutions should be sought before going to war.

She sued the district, and lost in the Seventh U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. The latter ruled:

A teacher’s speech is “the commodity she sells to an employer in exchange for her salary,” the Seventh U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals said in January. “The Constitution does not enable teachers to present personal views to captive audiences against the instructions of elected officials.”

Yesterday, the Supreme Court let stand the case, without comment.

Okay, here’s my comment: that’s bullshit. Mayer’s admission — she “honks for peace” — came while her elementary school students were being forced to read a rancid piece of propaganda, the “children’s edition” of Time Magazine. In this totalitarian-leaning society, the bosses’s tell you what to think, and if anyone, even a teacher steps out of line, they are demoted or banished (in Mayer’s case to Florida, where she now teaches — I’ll leave it to others to decide if that’s banishment, salvation, or abiding in a region between the two). Of course, speech in Bush’s America is now a commodity, to be bought and sold, “alienated” in Karl Marx’s terminology. Or was it Jefferson terminology, who spoke of “inalienable rights”?

But that was all in an America that existed long long ago, and is not meat at the table of our esteemed judiciary.

Crossposted at Invictus

I love to pick apples. I love to hear the snap that happens when i bite into an apple. I love the smell of apples. Oh, and hot homemade apple pie.

Apple sauce… apple butter… apple compote… apple computers…………………….

And apples, I’m pretty sure, never mistreat each other or lie about each other or kill each other.

So today, I’m for apples. How about you?

It’s a pony party. no rec’s required. add a nice thought for today. be silly. be loving. and find a pony to give an apple to, okay?

here’s an apple 73rd will love…