Stazzi James (my great-nephew) in town for the holiday

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Poem: Snow Day

Snow Day in Kirkland

By Jack Brummet

In silhouette

Against blue bisque skies,

Crows bounce

On the snow-humped branches,

Shaking snow to the ground.

They survey the valley

For prey

In dark relief

On the powder-white fields.

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Voter Orgasm: A potentially far more effective get out the vote tool than a barrage of robo-calls, or worse...humans in call banks

This ad seems potentially far more effective at getting out the vote than an endless barrage of robo-calls.  Thanks to Jeff Clinton for the suggestion and to the Socialist Catalonian Party for doing it.

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The New New Patdown & The TSA uproar

By Jack Brummet
All This Is That Social Mores Editor

I've written quite a few times over the last three years about TSA and their various security procedures. Mostly I've probably been dismissed (perhaps rightfully) as a crank. 

I've flown about 170 times in the last four years, and every single time (except two--both at John Wayne Airport in Orange County), I've set off the metal alarm in the scanners because of the stainless steel femur that was installed in my leg 15 years ago. [Note: this doesn't apply to my travel in Europe and Asia, where I have never been singled out]. Setting off that metal-detection alarm means you are subjected to a close personal inspection.   I've been patted down a couple hundred times times now.  First, they would go over your whole body with a wand.  And then they would give you a close pat-down, focusing on theareas that set off the alarm on the wand (like your hip, and the zipper on your jeans). 

No one really thought a lot about it when it was just those of us with joint replacements getting pulled out of the security line and frisked.  But now...the uproar has begun because it's everyone.  You either need to pass through the machine that sends an image of your naked body to a friendly TSA guy or gal, or if you would prefer not to be seen naked you get to have a close personal pat-down.

I just had the opportunity to undergo the "new New NEW pat-down" the day after the revised and aggressive security regulations took effect.  Look, it's not not actually invasive, but it is extremely close, and they've have very definitely Cranked Up Their Act.  They've seriously ratcheted up the pat-down we've had to endure these last ten years.  On the other hand, they now forgo the wanding...which always seemed a particularly inept follow up measure.   And as a side-note, they've also become extremely friendly and apologetic about the procedure.  To be fair, I've always just grinned it and beared (Bore?) it, and avoided getting visibly cranky about it.  The TSA guys didn't make the rules, and in all my dealings with them, they've been pretty OK.  Normally I smile and say no problem and try to get through it as quickly as possible, since I almost never arrive at the airport more than 45-60 minutes before my plane leaves! 

With all of the time I've spent with TSA folk (including two times when I got the total invasion, about which, see below), I have been able to ask questions...and I usually try to get them talking about dry runs or how they profile people, which is of course about the last thing they will talk about.  I've always had the best luck with them asking for their cranky customer stories.  And they all have millions.  I've seen dozens of tantrums and shocking disrespect towards the TSA guys--and you know, in my experience, there is roughly a 90-10 ratio of good guys to assholes in the TSA--which may well surpass the ratio among the citizenry at large.

The total invasion consists of a mortifyingly close evaluation of all your gear (and your whole act..the people I've talked to those two times definitely seemed like profilers), which happens all at random according to the TSA stooges.  I had three books.  They thumbed through each and every page, and shined a flashlight down the spine of the hardcover.  They took out my iPad and brought it back to a special area, along with my BlackBerry, a Nintendo DS, and two USB flash drives.  They turned every piece of clothing inside out, squirted fluids from liquids I had (contact lens solutions, witch hazel, SFP 15 sun blocker, India Ink --for drawing)  for what?  testing?  They invite you to repack, once they've inspected every item, inside and out.

This article has links to about a dozen earlier stories of life and times with the TSA.

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All This Is That reheated: Hillbilly tales and stories of growing up

Jack, and John Newton Brummet II, camping on the Bumping River
on Mount Rainier - click to enlarge

Articles, posts, and screeds, on Jack Brummet Growing Up:
The Greyhound Bus Depot in Kent, Washinton: Going To Red's
Square Dance At Valley Elementary
Foot Washing Baptists & The Catholic Devils
Cruising the Renton loop with a keg of nails
My Worst Jobs: McGoo
My Pathetic Political Career
The Month They Tried To Kill Me
My Worst Jobs - Brewburger
Stopping By Richard Nixon's
Defensive Daydreaming
My Worst Jobs - Design Insanity - Hype, Shuck, and Jive In The Dot-Com Years
My Worst Jobs - SALSA
Jerry Melin, still missing, still missed
18,906 Days On Turtle Island
The Day I went Bald
My Jobs (List Number 9)
My Favorite Rock and Jazz Shows More Shows I've seen over the years
Growing Up In Kent, Washington: Tarheels, Hayseeds, Hillbillies, and Crackers
Uncle Guy, more hillbilly cred, and living a good life
Jerry Melin, Master Forger
My Worst job ever!:::::McGoo
Jerry Melin, still missing and still missed
Fishing With The Old Man
Uncle Romey
The Time I Got Drunk With Roy Rogers
Kent, Washington
It Can Happen Here: Japanese Relocation Camps, 1942-1946
More on the El Rancho Drive-in in Kent, Washington
Snack bar ads, intermission countdowns, and the El Rancho drive-in
A Blog for Phil Kendall
Four more images of Kent, Washington in the 40's and 50's
Kent, Washington's Meeker Street 1946
Too good to leave in the comments: Scooter and the Hell's Angel Heavy chug-a-lug
Scooter and $2 all you can drink beer day at the Sundowner circa 1973
My Grandma's tavern in Carnation, Wash.
My Dog Slugger
Hucking Eggs in Kent, Washington
Home-made Hillbilly Toys
Square Dance At Valley Elementary
Foot Washing Baptists & The Catholic Devils
How I came to be named Jack
Hillbilly Cred
Cruising the Renton loop with a keg of nails
My Worst Jobs: 50 Tons of Sand
My Pathetic Political Career
Defensive Daydreaming (the second poem in these links, and one of my favorites)
"Chicken Thieves Busy in Kent And Vicinity"
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Ten of our favorite images from the last month or so...

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Google's top stories on All This Is That

This is a list of All This Is That posts Google says have generated the most traffic to the site over the last six years.  Some of them are baffling (Why would Dylan Thomas's great poem be so popular?).  Some of them get a lot of hits on Google because there are few other sites with information on that topic (Slap my ass and call me Sally).  Only two or three of them would be on our all-time articles list (like The Finger, The Wanker... or index of rock shows...which we will post next week).

The finger, the wanker, the cuckoo sign, the shocker, rock horns, the shaka sign, and many more


Slap my ass and call me Sally!

Dylan Thomas's Late Poem "Prologue"

An amazing Guiness record - Svetlana Pankratova, the woman with the longest legs.

Hitler Youth: a Halloween Costume?

The Skeleton On The Moon

Alien Lore No.157 - The Nome, Alaska abductions and "The Fourth Kind"

Alien Lore No. 186 - Indrid Cold, The Grinning Man

An index of rock shows discussed on All This Is That

This Michael Toubbeh Story Goes On...and on....and on

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Ex-Governor Palin believes she can take down President Barack Obama in 2012

By Pablo Fanque
All This Is That National Affairs Editor

We probably need to take this all with a few grains of salt, since we do know Palin's new book has just been released, and she is on the talk-show circuit, hoping to score one more multi-million payday before it all goes up in smoke.  Sarah Palin just claimed to Barbara Walters that she believes she could whip BHO's ass in 2012.

"I'm looking at the lay of the land now, and ... trying to figure that out, if it's a good thing for the country, for the discourse, for my family, if it's a good thing," Palin said in an interview scheduled to air in full Dec. 9 on ABC as part of Walters' "10 Most Fascinating People" of 2010.

Barbara Walters asked: "If you ran for president, could you beat Barack Obama?"

"I believe so," Palin said.

support group

OK.  I have friends on both sides of this equation. . .and you have to admit these--put up at someone's office--are pretty funny (well, the carnivore one, anyhow).  Image from http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/

click to enlarge

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We waited 30 minutes!

 Some rights reserved by passiveaggressivenotes

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In case you need a new career--raise giant frogs!

click to enlarge

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Governor Crist plans Jim Morrison pardon--Morrison tells how his penis ended up where it did

By Jack Brummet
Social Mores Editor

As you have probably heard, the outgoing Florida Governor, Charlie Crist, just announced that he will pardon Jim Morrison, who died 40 years ago.  Morrison was convicted of exposing himself at a raucous 1969 Doors concert in Miami.  Here is a photo of him holding a lamb at that concert.  It got far crazier after the lamb.

Everyone I've read seems to think Jim attempted to expose himself during the Miami show, but was probably prevented from doing so by band members and handlers, and--maybe--never really intended to go all the way.  He was charged with exposing his penis to the crowd, and with a felony morals charge.  He could have been imprisoned for 7 years in that notorious Florida hell-hole, Raiford Prison.  For some reason, rock critics and historians believe he did not expose himself as charged. After he was sentenced to sx months in prison, he moved to Paris, I think pending appeals, and died not long after that. 

Maybe he did.  Maybe he didn't.  In No One Here Gets Out Alive (1980, by Danny Sugerman and Jerry Hopkins), you can read The Lizard King's version of the story.  The authors write about one night Morrison was out drinking with a group of friends.  His friend Tom Baker started hectoring him about Miami. This is an excerpt from the book. I've always loved this story.

"You’re a pussy, Morrison," said Tom, baiting his friend. "You’re a ******* no-count pussy."

 Jim ignored the taunt. Frank and Babe stared into their drinks.


"Tell us now, Mr. Jim Morrison, rock star," Tom went on, a voice that traveled the length of the bar, "tell us what happened in Miami."

It was a tiresome subject for Jim. He glared at Tom, took another swallow from his drink.


"Come on, Jim, tell us once and for all."


"Yes," said Jim quietly, "I did it."

"Did what, Jim?" Tom’s voice was strident, triumphant.

"I showed my **** ."


"Why, Jim? When I showed mine in my movie, you said it wasn’t art."

"Well," Jim said in a low voice so everyone present had to strain to hear him, "I wanted to see what it looked like in the spotlight."

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