More than 1 million bogus Sacagawea dollars flood Ecuador

Hey - nobody here will even use the real ones…

link to story

Million counterfeit Sac dollars flood Ecuador

Secret Service stops Colombian counterfeit ring

By Paul Gilkes COIN WORLD Staff

As many as 1 million bogus Sacagawea dollars were produced and distributed by a sophisticated Colombian counterfeiting operation flooding Ecuador’s inflationridden economy before Colombian national police and the U.S. Secret Service shut down the facility earlier this year.
Fewer than 6,000 coins were recovered during a June raid of the counterfeiting factory in the Colombian capital of Bogotá and a later seizure at a distribution point in the Ecuadorian capital of Quito.
Coin World obtained details from the covert investigation from Anthony M. Chapa, the special agent in charge of the Secret Service’s Office of Investigations, Counterfeit Division. Chapa said Colombia is the number one location for counterfeiting operations targeting U.S. currency.
Dollarization in the South and Central American nations of Ecuador and El Salvador has resulted in the United States shipping millions of Sacagawea dollars to the countries, which are experiencing hyperinflation.
Ecuador has slowly changed its currency over the past 18 months from sucres to currency based on the U.S. dollar. The dollarization plan only allows Ecuador to produce coinage based on fractions of the U.S. dollars (cents to half dollars, denominated centavo through 50 centavos), but not a dollar coin. A private financial depository acting on behalf of the government of Ecuador requested the Federal Reserve to fill the void with Sacagawea dollars.
Some 10 million Sacagawea dollars were shipped to Ecuador earlier this year and during calendar year 2000 in two separate shipments of 5 million coins each. The coins were shipped in $1,000-face-value boxes of 25-coin rolls. El Salvador has also received Sacagawea dollar shipments from the Federal Reserve.
According to a Federal Reserve spokeswoman: “Because the orders you referred to would have been on a central bank to member bank basis, rather than central bank to central bank, we have no record of the movement of the coins once they were delivered to the requesting depository institution. As a matter of policy, we are unable to divulge the name of institutions placing coin orders.”
Chapa said intelligence developed by the Colombian national police uncovered the clandestine counterfeiting operation that was replete with dies, die steel, lathes, annealing machinery and coinage presses. The equipment was seized when a joint force of Colombian national police and Secret Service agents raided the facility on June 18.
“It was a pretty large operation,” according to Chapa, who said the raid was executed after extensive surveillance by both investigative agencies. Also seized were 4,000 counterfeit 2000-D Sacagawea dollars.
Chapa said it is estimated that between 500,000 and 1 million of the counterfeit Sacagawea dollars were produced at the Bogotá site, but it is unknown how long the facility was in operation before authorities shut it down. “They were striking the coins with the intention of taking them into Ecuador for distribution,” Chapa said. The operation was also producing counterfeit Ecuador 50-centavo coins, he said.
Authorities made another seizure of counterfeit coins Aug. 22, 2002, as part of an undercover investigation, Chapa said. In this seizure, 1,418 counterfeit 2000-D Sacagawea dollars were confiscated from a distribution point for the coins in Quito, Ecuador, Chapa said.
Chapa said the Secret Service has retained three of the specimens for its forensics files, but was unable to provide any images of the counterfeits to Coin World for illustrative purposes because the probe is ongoing.
It is believed the counterfeits were struck on coinage presses using impact dies that were produced by ramming softened die steel into the obverse and reverse of a genuine 2000-D Sacagawea dollar. The result would create a reverse image of the host coin on to the die steel.
The diameter, thickness and weight of the counterfeits were within tolerances for the genuine coins (the genuine Sacagawea dollars are 26.5 millimeters in diameter, 8.1 grams in weight), Chapa said.
The counterfeits were not produced on clad composition planchets, but are more likely brass (an alloy of copper and zinc), Chapa said, although an elemental analysis had not yet been done.
The genuine Sacagawea dollars are a three-layer sandwich coin composed of outer layers of 77 percent copper, 12 percent zinc, 7 percent manganese and 4 percent nickel bonded to a core of pure copper.
The counterfeit Sacagawea dollars do not possess the same electromagnetic properties as the genuine coins for use in vending machines, but they could possibly work in older mechanical vending machines, Chapa said.
The counterfeits exhibit a more coppery hue than golden color, Chapa said, while the legends and other periphery details are mushy. The central devices are sharp in detail but become less pronounced moving outward from the center of the coin design on the fakes, Chapa said.
Chapa said the Colombian counterfeiting factory was completely shut down and all of the coin-making machinery confiscated. There were arrests resulting from the Bogotá and Quito seizures, he said. CW

COLOMBIAN COUNTERFEITERS have made bogus 2002-D Sacagawea dollars to circulate in Ecuador. Shown is a genuine coin.

From the Cranky e-Mailbag…

Well kids, it’s time to look in the old e-Mailbag and see what we’ve got…Hey! it’s more about The Gate!

Let’s read, shall we?

After reporting The Gate’s closure on Sunday I received this letter from the Parks&Rec guy:

What day did you encounter this staff member and are you saying the gate was locked over this past weekend ? Because my staff member (__) opened the gate on 12/15/06, Friday at 2:20 p.m., I drove by there at 4:15 p.m. and it was still open. During school hours the gate can be kept locked for security, it’s in the out of school hours it should be opened.

my response:

This was yesterday. Sunday 12/17 approx 10 AM. I got his name if you want it. I don’t want to badger the people that are just doing their job, but I always ask their name and why they won’t unlock the gate.

his response :

Yes, I want his name, the school administration needs to know. I have staff driving by this gate 5 days per week and we made sure it was unlocked late Friday afternoon. So sometime between 4:15 on Friday and 10 a.m. on Sunday the gate was locked. I’m also copying A_ R_, Assistant Principal at Sahuaro on this email, he needs to know who from the TUSD staff keeps locking this gate. Please include A_ on your response email so he can get the employee’s name.

PS. A_, maybe the staff are confused between it being locked during school time opposed to out of school time?

me:

Sure - his name is __, he just happened to come and unlock the driveway gates when I was there. Just to be clear he didn’t lock the pedestrian gate at that time, it was already locked. I asked him why the pedestrian gate was locked and he said they’re told its supposed to be locked. Coach B_ has told me the same thing when I’ve asked him about it, he said its supposed to be locked, although that was quite a while ago that I talked to him.

him:

Thank you, we will pursue this information (that Mr. __ stated) with the High School Administration staff.

then from A_ R_ Asst Principal:

The only thing I can think of is that TUSD School Safety is coming by and locking the gate when they see it unlocked. No one on our custodial or security staff is here on the weekend, so if your staff member unlocked the gate, and you checked it, it has to be TUSD School Safety. I have copied P_ M_, of TUSD School Safety, so he know about the situation regarding keeping the pedestrian gate open on the weekends and after school.

A_ R_
Assistant Principal
Operations

Anyone want to do an over/under and how long this passing of the buck at TUSD can go on? How about another say…6 months?… We’ll see. I’ve already been through this with them. I think the Parks&Rec guy is getting tired of it already…

Man sues coin grading companies for falsely labeling coins “First Strikes”

Those PCGS and NGC graded coins you’re buying and paying more for because they’re “First Strikes”, aren’t. And these guys are suing the companies for unfair and deceptive practices because the US Mint says there’s no way to tell when they were struck. Hope you didn’t pay $2000 extra for that “First Strike” Gold 1 oz Buffalo you bought from the Home Shopping Network…

link to article

Battling the Great White Whale of public access

Call me Ishmael….no wait - call me Captain Ahab. Because it looks like I will be battling this great white whale until the day I die.

The little things that we take for granted; the walk to the park, the sunny day, the smile of a child, are all behind me now. I can only focus on getting this fracking gate left open, and I am endlessly circling with my harpoon waiting for the opportunity to take it down for good.

You may have already guessed that the silly, trivial problem continues unabated.

After hopping the fence again – I am at the school, shooting some baskets when a truck pulls up and unlocks the driveway gates.

“Why isn’t the pedestrian access gate open”, I ask.

“We’re supposed to keep it closed”, comes the now iconic answer.

Wow – so the school continues to claim they are trying to ensure the gate is kept open while at the same time telling the people that work there with keys to make sure and keep it locked.

“This gate is supposed to be left open; I’ve been fighting this for months.” I said, without crying.

“The left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing”, he replies with a sheepish shrug, looks at his hands in silent confirmation, and turns to go.

I need a bigger harpoon…

Texas: Top financial officer says illegals more than pay their way

I guess when you look at the problem in detail (and without the right wing noise machine in the background), you get a slightly different answer. Illegals are BRINGING IN 17 billion to the Texas economy, and paying more in taxes and fees than they use in services. Let the hating begin.

link to AP story

AUSTIN, Texas — A report by the top financial officer of Texas says illegal immigrants are more a boon to the state’s economy than a drain, adding another layer to the immigration-reform debate.

Texas Comptroller Carole Keeton Strayhorn found that illegal immigrants not only contributed more than $17 billion to the state’s economy in the last fiscal year, but that they also pay more than enough in taxes and fees to cover services they receive.

The report — billed as the first comprehensive analysis by any state financial officer — is being hailed by immigrant-rights groups and panned by foes who question its methodology and contend it was politically motivated.

Strayhorn just lost a bitter battle for governor after running as an independent and has been accused of manipulating state data to make Republican Gov. Rick Perry look bad. Nevertheless, her findings could inject new life into the debate over a national guest-worker program, which has stalled despite support from President Bush.

Strayhorn’s report said border crossers added $17.7 billion to the gross state product in fiscal 2005 and produced $1.58 billion in revenues by paying taxes and fees and by playing the lottery. They received $1.16 billion in services, it said.

The Federation for American Immigration Reform, which supports tougher border security and an end to illegal immigration, estimated illegal immigration costs Texas $3.7 billion a year.

the gate: response from the EDA

In any business organization, or workplace, or group structure, there is always someone that doesn’t do their part, someone that lets it go and figures that someone ELSE will pick up after them and fix it. Conversely there is always someone out there, someone who WILL pick up after them and fix it, and make it right.

You’ve probably been the one that gets to pick up the loose ends and make it right – to do or undo what the bad employee did or didn’t do, and fix it so that the system can go on functioning. We always wonder why the bad employee gets away with it and doesn’t get fired or disciplined. Everyone knows the employee sucks, but most systems don’t handle this type of problem efficiently. The bad employee just becomes a mainstay of the organization, and a system of checks and balances to keep that employee’s uselessness from affecting the overall performance is kept in place.

The Parks & Rec department is going to go out of their way, take on the extra work and pick up after the High School; they’re probably used to it.

Serious thanks go to the East District Administrator of the P&R for taking ownership of this problem. I am impressed.

Monday I received this response:

Jim,

I am offering our assistance to help the school. If the High School (HS) Administration wants to keep the gate locked during school hours we understand that is their prerogative, and we respect their security concerns. However, during the proscribed hour (out of school time), I think we can help improve this situation.

I am going to get a key for the lock from the HS and have my staff check the gate late in the day and on Friday afternoon. We have staff who work in that geographical area and can check this fairly regularly. I think between our staff and the schools staff this will make a significant difference to making this area more accessible for public access. Thanks, Jim Conroy

Wow!

Thanks!

John C. Dvorak: Closet Luddite?

One of my favorite podcasts is Cranky Geeks (crankygeeks.com), a weekly podcast that takes a somewhat cranky view of the week’s tech and tech-related stories. John Dvorak is the head crank/geek and his snide, acidic approach to the world is something I find generally appealing, if occasionally over-the-top strictly for the sake of being over-the-top. He has a panel every week and the end result is a well-rounded and entertaining overview of the week’s tech-ish events.

But I’m starting to get a little worried about Dvorak. He seems to be fashioning himself into some new form of Luddite.

(From Wikipedia: The Luddites were a social movement of English textile workers in the early 1800s who protested — often by destroying textile machines — against the changes produced by the Industrial Revolution, which they felt threatened their jobs. The movement, which began in 1811, was named after a mythical leader, Ned Ludd. For a short time the movement was so strong that it clashed in battles with the British Army. Measures taken by the government included a mass trial at York in 1813 that resulted in many death penalties and transportations (deportation to a penal colony).)

This past week in a discussion of the iPod/Nike product that lets your shoes communicate with your iPod, but as it turns out also allows others to stalk you, the talk turned to other devices that have GPS or tracking features. The subject of cell phones and their accompanying tracking capability came up and Dvorak was quick to state that he didn’t ever carry one. One of the guests asked incredulously, “you don’t carry a cell phone?” Dvorak’s reply, “I don’t carry any of this crap, I don’t want to be tracked”

So I guess John is afraid of cell phones, PDA’s, Bluetooth enabled devices etc? Maybe he’s scared of Wi-fi? Perhaps he’s only comfortable with “Big Iron” era tech devices. It’s strange that the consummate Mac-Baiter would be reluctant to embrace an entire segment of tech development.

Perhaps he’s starting a new movement, the Dvorakites. Any technology that uses communication and GPS capability is “evil” and must be dismissed and ridiculed, perhaps even destroyed. This could get out of hand if he is able to recruit enough followers and starts smashing cell phone towers and trashing Verizon stores.

Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.

the gate: revisited

In case you thought I had solved my little problem with TUSD and Sahuaro High School and the pedestrian access gate, you were wrong. I’ve hesitated to keep posting on this as it gets tedious, but I’m still pursuing the problem and have yet to reach a successful conclusion. I’m now communicating with the East District Administrator of the City’s Parks & Rec Department.

Here’s the email I sent today:

Hi

The gate is locked again this weekend. This looks to be a chronic ongoing problem - and unless someone is constantly complaining it will never get fixed.

This is not a new rule - this gate should have been unlocked during the proscribed hours all along. How difficult could this be? As I’ve explained to many others, I can get in even if the fence is locked, but what about younger kids and older folks. This is a public access issue and I don’t want to keep bringing it up. Kids will never start using these courts again unless they’re kept accessible on a regular basis as they are SUPPOSED to be. They’re not locked as often (it used to be every weekend) - but every other weekend or even every 4th weekend is still a problem.

I started pursuing this with the school and the school district over a year ago, in Nov 2005. I spent 8 months getting the runaround before I contacted the newspaper in June. Only then did I get any action. There was no problem for a long stretch, and then it started up again. Is the administration inept? Is there some serious communication problem? Why should a private citizen have to spend their time to keep the school from unfairly restricting public access to this area? I would think that 13 months later this issue would have been solved.

My wish is that I never need to bring this up again, and let all involved go back to more important work. Seems like it should be simple.

Sincerely,

Jim Miller

1st grade rurals

There was a little blonde girl named Dawn. She was the prim and proper variety, and always wore neat little dresses with her hair done just so. She was from town and not a rural, the rurals could be crude and undisciplined and there were true hillbillies in the community. People who lived in shacks and wore rags and couldn’t read or write but spoke in a mountain dialect and smelled…well…..funny. I didn’t know much about them, but there were two in my first grade class that stood out to me. Randall was a smartass kind of kid, continual challenging smirk with a look of danger in his eye. You sensed that he could and would cause trouble to you and to the general community, and he was smart enough to pull it off. He was rural but had an edge and a sharp mind that set him apart from most of that group. Billy Miller was the classic hillbilly kid. He was dumb, truly dressed in rags that were never changed, and was always unclean and smelled like something had gone wrong in his drawers. His nose was always running and he had a kind of lopsided look to his face that made him seem a little deformed, a little “wrong”. He was used to being shunned and teased and put upon, so he walked with a kind of shamble that had his feet dragging and clopping along as he stepped. I was always embarrassed about the fact that we shared the same last name – could he be a relative? Other kids were always asking me that and teasing me after they tired of teasing him. He never let on that he heard or cared about the abuse, just put his head down and shambled away, clop clop. One time he came to class with poorly applied polish on all his fingernails, this was a serious breach of manhood and I asked him what had happened. He gave me a lopsided, grim smile and said that his “sister done it”. I felt sorry for Billy – he had no defense against the world, was vulnerable even at home. I couldn’t show it but I felt real sympathy for him.

the barn

This barn was one of the regular haunts of the kids in the area, especially the older kids. I never thought then of the potential for romance afforded by the loft, but it was obvious to the teens, and much frequented by them. They had an interest in maintaining the mystique of the loft and keeping the youngers from getting too bold and venturing up there regularly and without proper caution. The youngers used the lower level and it became a constant part of the war games, cowboys and Indians scenarios, and hide and seek maps.

I was always finding ancient items in the dirt and embedded in the walls; things like rusting metal brackets and squared nails that were remnants of its past and seemed to be older than the structure itself. Maybe they were.

Murchison’s milkshake

That reminds me of the “milkshake”. When I was in third grade, my first school year once we had moved to Tucson, my teacher was Miss Murchison. Miss Murchison was a classic old biddy school teacher that dressed like a prim and proper young lady from the 1930’s and was now approaching 70. Single and showing it, she was a no nonsense schoolmarm that took a bilious approach to the running of her classroom, which compelled the students to look down when she passed by. When a young man misbehaved; her approach was to come up next to him, grasp him by the shoulder and shake him furiously while asking him questions relating to his misbehavior:

“Why are you doing that?”

“Don’t you want to get to 4^th grade?”

“Will you never learn?”, and sometimes, a statement:

“I will not allow this behavior in my classroom!”

All the while shaking and vibrating the young man back and firth until he became a quivering slab of gelatin, some kids even slipping to the floor as she held on and continued her shaking. This last step was largely for show and was rarely if ever a direct result of the shaking, but everyone seemed to enjoy that part, it granted a spot of showmanship to the proceedings and created a finality to the event that allowed her to stop and finally move on to something else. Ah, the “Milkshake”, as we dubbed it, CLASSIC!

hoof in the boot

I heard the Scout drive up, and the garage door open and close. Then I heard my mother chiding, “What the hell did you do now?!? What the hell?!?!…..”. No sound from my dad, but my mom continued on with the interrogation and I could hear a lot of panicked fumbling in the dining room. I slunk in and saw the dining room floor now dyed a lovely and scary crimson color that I had not seen since I almost cut my wrist off in the glass door incident. My dad was sitting on the settee and there was blood seeping out over the top of his right work boot. He always wore these big rubbery work boots when he was working in the field, which was pretty much ALWAYS.

My mom was trying to pull off the boot, but her hands kept slipping from the slick blood and rubber. Each time it would come partway off and then fail and his foot would settle back into the boot as the serum and blood would push over the top and spill on the floor yet again. My dad finally saw me standing there in total horror and yelled at me to get out with that clipped whipsaw way he had of commanding. “Get out – NOW!” I was too scared to move but was able to slowly back out the door and stumble up to my bedroom. I could hear my mother’s accusing voice as she wondered how my dad could have caused such a mess, and it was a long time before the sound faded back into quiet.

I later found out that my dad had been behind a cow that had a problem with its hoof, a common situation where you have to muck out the hoof and apply some sort of medication to it. He had gotten careless and the cow had kicked back at him, missed, and stepped down right into his big rubber boot. It immediately started kicking and trying to free its trapped foot, and had created one hell of a terror inside that boot. His lower leg was badly torn up and it was a long time before he wore that boot again. But I don’t think he ever got careless standing behind a cow or horse after that, you never know when things might go wrong.

death cuts through

Death cuts through. Whether it’s a piece of family or a pet or a stranger in a car on a lonely road, death cuts through. The trick is to understand where to draw the line. If death gets too close to your core and you grieve for every soul lost from this earth, you will see emotional ruination. If you grieve for nothing and no one, you will be a zombie, a lifeless hulk that trudges slowly through this life and never really FEELS anything or cares for anyone. It may take a while to figure out where you stand on a particular death, but you can get there if you keep your mind to it and push ahead. And that’s what it is – pushing ahead. You are in the backyard of life, the sheets are all hung on the line to dry and you push into them, feeling the wet sweet smell against your face as it blinds and tantalizes you. Keep going and the sheet flows over you and drops away – you see bright light and clarity. Then you hit the next sheet and start again. There are a lot of sheets in this big backyard and you have to keep going because what’s the point if you stop? If you’re not moving you’re seeing the same sheet and the same line and the same damn backyard forever. And then you stop bothering to look, you‘ve seen it so many times it’s not going to look any different this time so why even look. Might as well settle in and take it as read, there’s nothing new.

Flintstone phone

I was playing in the living room with one of my two current favorite toys, the Flintstone phone. The Flintstone phone was a marvel of engineering, the hand piece was a hollowed out dinosaur horn and the body was a rough hewn rock made into a phone with small rock buttons. When you picked it up and pushed one of the buttons, you heard a catchphrase from one of the Flintstone characters, “Wilma where did you put my smokes?” Something like that. Life was much more dangerous then…..

The other favorite was this set of Styrofoam blocks that had a set of connectors on top and bottom so you could build walls. Of course as soon as you built any kind of structure the temptation was overwhelming for an older brother to tear it down. Tommy was at school so I was relatively safe during the day. A lot of the blocks were already dicey as far as holding together, because so many of the connectors had been broken off from previous wall of destruction forays by him.

injuring

An excerpt from my writing:

I seemed to be the one to have trouble with injuries. Another time, one of the kids from a few houses down was out front by the highway, had his bike upside down, and was spinning the rear wheel by cranking the pedal by hand. He had been fixing a flat tire and had gotten started turning that wheel and became mesmerized by it. There IS something mesmerizing about a wheel spinning so smoothly and fast as hell. There’s danger and beauty and a whispering swish of sound as the spokes break the air in increments. After a while he throws a little pebble into the spinning vortex…..ping……it hits and goes spinning off. Pretty cool. He throws another one….ping….this is great! He throws a bigger pebble…..pong……wow! It goes wheeling off and clacks onto the highway 100 feet away. I am watching with amazement as the power of this upturned bike becomes revealed to me. It s a form of mobile catapult that could be used for good or evil, its got the power. As he is still chinging small rocks and debris into the wheel and watching them loft away I decide it is time to up the bet and see what this baby can really do. I grab a chunk of asphalt from the deteriorating highway shoulder (everything is old and deteriorating in this town, except for our new house) and stand in front of the spinning wheel of hypnotism. My eyes fixed on the center of the vortex, I slowly lift the chuck and throw it overhand into the wheel…….KONG………..it hits the wheel and the spokes give a sproing we had not heard yet that day. It rebounds from the tension of the spring/spokes and arcs into the air – straight back out trying to leap into my outstretched hand. Unfortunately my forehead was now where my hand had been and the asphalt caught me squarely an inch above the right eye. Momentarily stunned, I backed away and staggered to stay upright. I bent over and looked down at the highway, dazzled by little drops of red spattering around, that swirled in the direction I turned my head. In a moment I realized that this was blood from me and went running the 100 yards down the driveway to the house. I tore through the door (opening it this time) and stomped through the house looking for my mother and leaving a very clear forensic trail of red matter should any detective later need to track me down for details of the event. I finally found her – in front of the television and said bluntly, “I hurt my head…”. By this time the wound had started to pour blood and looked quite impressive. There was no way for my mother to know if I had lost part of my scalp and side of my head (and possibly brain), or just how invasive this wound was. She was rattled but managed to start wiping the blood away, mentally calculating the time it would take to get me back to that small doctor’s office, and if this could be done before the life had completely drained from my now heaving body. Once the most recent era of blood was cleared it became obvious that the damage was not as severe as first indicated and a leisurely ride to the doctor to implant a few fresh stitches would make me good as new, for now.

It’s Alive!!!!!

Long time no blog:

I will hopefully become motivated to write some cranky pieces about retail numismatics (no, its not hypnotism - look it up!). I’m the Senior Numismatist(?!) at a local coin shop and the tales I could tell…….the level of entertainment is extraordinary.

But first, guess what……..the Gate at Sahuaro High School is again locked, preventing access to the basketball courts.

I guess everyone their own windwill to fight, or black monolith to puzzle over, or stray dog to kick…….but……this is silly.

So I called the Parks and Rec department and they will remind the priincipal of his commitment to enforce the rules. We’ll see…..

reality-show-widower

Every one over the age of 30 (40? 50?) has heard of the term “football widow”. It refers to a woman whose husband is so enamored of the spheroid-based game that during football season the man is a virtual non-being. He is so caught up in the game that the wife is in effect a “football widow”, she has no real husband during that 16+ (18? 20?) week season.

Now I’ve come across an interesting mutation of that phenomena which I will call a “reality-show-widower”.

Being a reality-show-widower is worse than being a football widow - much worse.

Everyone under the age of 30 (20?, 10?) knows what reality shows are. They know the contestants on American Idol by name, and by season. They know what nights Big Brother is on (actually that’s easy, apparently its on every damn night!) They know the profession, age and idiosyncrasies of every Survivor contestant ever. And that’s at least 500 people. They know everything about every crazy reality show, the airwaves are flooded with them and more are on the way every day. There is NO reality show “season”. THere is not a single time of the year when there isn’t at least one all-engrossing-reality-show-contest of the wills going on.

So forget “football widow” - that’s nothing. Once your spouse (football is usually male, reality show seems to be mostly female) is addicted to the thrill of real(?!?) people in real(?!?) situations YOU ARE ALONE.

I tried watching reality shows. I made it through the 1st season of Survivor, didnt get a prize, but i saw the end. I tried watching Dwarf Marriage and Gayfriend Mixup Party and others too horrifying and certainly too numerous to mention. But it doesnt work. I can’t feign interest in something which has no meaning to me (another parellel to football widow).

So instead I accept my fate and the fact that regardless of the season, between the hours of 7-10PM (8-11 Central) I am without a family, a man alone with nothing to do but wait for football season to start.

an article appears

Here’s a link to Brian’s article in the East Side section of the Arizona Daily Star, June 29th, 2006.

link to article

I came off pretty well, and remain relatively unscathed by the incident.

how nicely that all ended

June 25th, 2006:

The gate is open!

It’s just like when the Berlin Wall came down! Thousands rejoice!

I am especially optimistic because the chain they had used to lock the gate is gone. (They had a chain welded to the gate which was then padlocked, this chain is completely gone.)

Interesting side note #1: I forgot to mention earlier that for quite some time there had been a space between the 2 sections of gate where you could squeeze through, everybody used it, the gate had been inconsequential. But a few years ago some genius had decided to take an old piece of wire fence and twist it into this space to prevent access. It was a crude and dangerous way to do it (lots of metal shards and sharp points) - but it did keep people from getting through.

Interesting side note #2: The school also seems to be leaving the adjacent driveway open. This would allow vehicles to drive right into the schoolyard, and seems like a really bad idea. The only vandalism I’ve really noticed is from people driving their cars on the courts and fields.

For instance, there is a peelout patch on one of the courts that took the surface off in four neatly defined tire tracks. I have seen people with cars that appear to be with the school baseball team tearing around the field causing damage. They were with someone that had a key to the gates - so what’s up with that?
Oh well….

getting close?

June 21st, 2006:

Brian calls before I can get myself together and call him back.

He is waiting for the Communications Office of TUSD to call him back because as a reporter he has to go through that “channel”.

June 23rd, 2006:

Another call from Brian. Gee - someone calling ME to follow up, go figure…..

Brian met with TUSD and City Parks&Rec simultaneously and….wait for it…..the gate IS supposed to be unlocked.

Apparently there was a “misunderstanding” in the Custodial staff which resulted in these unauthorized gate lockings. They said there had been some “turnover” in that area.
Just like big government! It’s never the leader, it’s the follower. Abu Ghraib was the result of some crazy individuals, the military leaders had no idea……..right!………

The bad news: he says they will still be there to take a picture on Sunday.

But later that day: I get a call from the photographer who apologizes for the fact that actual news has come up and they won’t be able to do the photo op. I silently praise any number of gods and realize that, after some seven months, this problem might actually be resolved!

newspapers tend to respond better than governmental agencies…

June 13th, 2006:

Brian from the AZ Daily Star calls me to let me know that the city no longer has an IGA (Inter Governmental Agreement) with the school. This has happened with other schools in the area as well.

So, the city no longer has anything to do with the outdoor basketball courts I have grown so fond of, and the sign stating the hours of public access is old and should be removed.

Ouch…..

But - Brian is going to follow up with the school and the district as this is a community issue that he feels needs to be addressed. (Good!)

However - he may want to do a story and get a picture of me climbing the fence. (Ouch ouch!)

The thought of my picture in the newspaper is unpleasant at best, and terrifying upon further rumination. I can see it now - all the times I’ve mocked local articles, making fun of pictures of idiots in alarming and disgraceful situations/poses is coming back to haunt me. The times I’ve silently sneered at an unseemly, unflattering picture of some unaware samaritan made to look like a mutant loser is bearing down on me like a 16-ton-Diesel of Disrespect.

June 18th, 2006:

Father’s Day! - gate locked

June 20th, 2006:

Brian calls and leaves voicemails on cell and home phone, wants me to call him back. I’m just not into it today.

Some days I’m ready to “bang head against wall”, some days I don’t wanna….

another custodian

June 11th, 2006:

So I’m down there playing basketball after nearly rupturing a certain part of me that’s involved in procreation, I think you know what that is. (if not - write me for an explanation)

I’m shooting away - and a guy unlocks the gate and comes in to check the grounds. I stop him and ask him if he is leaving the gate unlocked. He says that he can leave it open while he’s there, but has to lock it when he leaves.

“Well, who told you to do that?” I asked him knowingly (this is beginning to sound like the Monty Python cheese shop sketch)

“The Prinicipal”
Hmmm…the same Prinicipal who bursts through the gate several times a week because he knows its open, apparently.

Then, the kind custodian said he would leave the gate unlocked when he left if I would click the padlock shut when I exited. (He also said he would mention this to the school prinicipal after I assured him the prinicipal had claimed it was always open.)

I agreed. He was a gentleman and I would reciprocate.

PS - yes I did lock the damn gate when I left, what do you think? That I’m a school administrator or something?

PPS - another interesting thing the custodian said was that the gate to the tennis courts is left unlocked. Now, that gate is on the other side of the school. You have to walk across the entire school grounds to get to the basketball courts from there. If the concern is about vandalism - why are you encouraging people to cross the entire campus?

Another thought: Tennis is to rich white kids as basketball is to _______ [fill in favorite lower income minority group here]

the paper

May 3rd, 2006:

Gate locked.

I call the Arizona Daily Star and go through several people until I get to a reporter who doesn’t tell me I need to talk to someone else, his name is Brian.

Brian will make some calls and get back to me.

In the meantime: gate locked, gate locked, gate locked, etc…..

amazing new driving safety device

While driving in Tucson today, I discovered the most amazing device that could change the world of driving as we know it.

It seems that virtually every car on the road has access to this insanely useful tool. I just need to get the word out so people can understand how to locate the control and make full use of it.

It has the seemingly telepathic ability to indicate to other drivers what your intentions are so that they can prepare for the actions you take, before you take them!

Think of it - other drivers getting magical information about your driving plans, and reacting accordingly so that the risk of accident and injury is minimized, all with the touch of a lever.

If this becomes widely used, I feel it could significantly decrease traffic congestion AND increase road safety for all of us.

If I can only get this information out to the people that need it!

I started by looking the device up in the driver’s manual and its called, simply enough, a TURN SIGNAL! Wow!! Maybe I can get the newspaper to run a story….

ultimatum of the mild-mannered

April 17th, 2006:

I again call Tanya, get voicemail, and leave a detailed message about the previous day’s events. (I know the drill.)

Additionally, I ruminate about the importance to the community that this public facility is open as directed and available for public use.

Possible angles:

• We’ve got an epidemic of overweight children and we’re looking them out of a public area?
• The vandals can climb the fence but younger and older people cannot, age discrimination?
• the tennis courts are open, but the basketball courts are not: rich white vs poor minority?

I’m stretching the point to insane limits; but I’m ready for that, nothing else has worked.

I also mention that this is the last time I will call the school system, next time time it will be the newspapers and then the City Council.

my head explodes

April 16th, 2006:

For a few weeks after that last message to Tanya at The District the gate mysteriously remains open.

Then - abruptly - the gate is again locked. Maybe I’m missing something important. Should I be offering up a sacrifice before going to the school, examining the entrails of a sacrificial lamb to see if the gods are smiling on this endeavor? Hmm - if the entrails are propitious, I go down to the school; if not, I go back inside and wait for a sign…

After climbing the gate, I settle down to relaxing session of solo basketball.

After about 45 minutes a young lady (presumably from Facilities) comes to the gate, unlocks it, and locks it again behind her. A short while later when she is leaving I stop her and ask her if she can leave the gate unlocked behind her:

She: “I have to keep the gate locked.”

Me: “I’ve been told that this gate should be unlocked during non-school hours, who tells you to lock it?”

She: “The AP of Facilities.”

Me: “Who is the AP of Facilities?”

She: “Abel R_____”

Me: [sound of head exploding]

I think I may need to make another call on this.

sunny…..then cloudy

Well kids - for a few weeks after that the gate remains unlocked.

But the residents of HappyVille are not going to smile for long, because the dark spectre of bureaucratic incompetence crawls ever forward; relentless, ruthless…..clueless.

March 13, 2006:

I call Tanya again, and leave ANOTHER message.

bouncing back and forth

Feb 8th, 2006:

I never hear back from Abel, maybe his voicemail is broken and the student/receptionist had to take maternity leave…..or maybe he doesn’t want to ever hear from me again?

I call Tanya, at “The District”, and leave a voicemail. I am getting this uneasy feeling that everyone I’ve been calling is thinking they don’t want to talk to the “crazy gate guy” anymore and are standing by the watercooler saying “you should hear about this guy that keeps calling me, he’s totally obsessed with this gate at Sahuaro High School!”

Tanya calls me back the next day and informs me that neither the Prinicipal nor the Asst P had received any communication from me in the last few weeks(?!?!) and that they are sorry about the occasional accidental locking of the gate. She said the Principal told her he walks through the gate several times a week so he knows it is almost always open.

Hmmmm…..this is getting more interesting. I know that isn’t true. I’ve called Abel twice in the last few weeks and he’s never returned my calls, and if the Principal is walking through that locked gate several times a week he is one very tough hombre. I haven’t noticed metal shards and twisted wire laying around when I’m climbing it - maybe I’d better take a closer look next time.

In the meantime I’ll keep a log of the dates and times when the gate is locked so I can at least refute specifics. But a larger problem looms in the background, “Why do I care?”

calling, calling, calling….

January 31st, 2006:

I never hear back from Abel.

I call the High School front end number and ask to speak to him. The presumably-high- school-kid-working-for-free-for-some-kind-of-credit receptionist informs me that he is is out and will be back on Thursday, Feb 2nd. So I leave a message with her, giving her a brief rundown of the story so far, and trying hard to make it NOT sound like some crazy cranky old guy thing.

locked, locked, locked

January 22nd, 2006:

gate locked

January 24th, 2006:

gate locked

I’m sensing a pattern here. “Exists there a wheel so squeaky that it might disturb the deepest slumber of the uncaring public official?” - Plutonius; L’histoire of Excess in Civilian Structure; pp.945-947

I call Abel, he asked that I do this - and so I will. I call his direct line, the number that HE GAVE ME, and get his voicemail. No problem, i will leave a detailed message so that he will know the system has failed and he can repair the kink in the flow of information between the AP (Abel) and the rest of the schoolyard world. I also request that he call me back and provide the number.

back to "The District"

Since the Assistant Principal at Sahuaro High School has been no help whatsoever (not even managing a consistent excuse), I call "the district" again. This time I'm thinking I need to be more descriptive of the problem when I hit the main switchboard, and see if I can get to someone whose angle is complementary to the goal.

Simply put - I tell the front end that I am having a problem with a school and they put me through to Community Relations. I speak to a helpful and professional sounding woman named Tanya, she tells me that she will contact the school, get more info and call me back.

A few days alter I get a message on my cell phone from Abel, the other AP (Assistant Principal). He tells me that he is sorry for the inconvenience and they will make sure that the gate is not being locked during the hours proscribed for community use. He also says I should call him if I have any further trouble.

Despite my previous experience and a troubling feeling of hopelessness, I think I might have this thing under control. Its only a simple gate, they WILL stop keeping it locked - its not like its some twisted iron symbol of oppression and power; a monolith devoted to the pristine appearance of an unused schoolyard, unblemished by the footsteps of happy children....

after the break

January 10th, 2006:
Holidays are over - gate is locked....

Again I place a call to Joni, this time getting an entirely different response.

She says that the staff is having trouble with this unlocked-gate concept, because leaving the gate unlocked is causing VANDALISM. This seems to be the schoolyard equivalent of TERRORISM, causing administrators to quake in their respective Wal-Mart style boots. Just as the federal government has used the threat of TERRORISM as a bogeyman to diminish civil liberties, the school is using the fear of VANDALISM to justify keeping this gate locked. Never mind the fact that if I can get over the fence so easily, young-adult-vandals would scarcely find it a daunting task. ("Let's go tear up the school!!!"- "damn! - never mind, the GATE IS LOCKED!" - "Oh well - I guess we'll have to go back to behaving properly and peforming civic duties.."

Joni also informs me that "The District" is working an a plan to permit access to the courts without providing access to the surrounding schoolyard. This sounds intriguing, and incidentally like a total waste of everyone's time. "How long will this take?", I enquire knowingly. "Oh it could be several months.", comes the all too predictable reply.

I think it is time to call "The District" again.......

a few weeks later....

December 7th, 2005:
I am disillusioned and chagrined because the gate is once again locked.

Mere words cannot express my deep rooted sadness that all faith in humanity is leaving my body like the blood being squeezed from some giant, hellish turnip.

Plus - I have to climb the fence again.

This becomes problematic, as I leave after sunset and misjudge the distance from the top of the fence to the street. Once the back of my head has securely found the curb, I am again properly oriented and continue home.

I call Joni again - this time getting her voicemail. I leave a message and hope for a return call, forgetting that the black hole of xmas break will render all attempts at communication useless for a month. Curse you, TUSD holiday calendar!@!#!

(Note: the posted sign states that this facility is for public use from 5PM-10PM on schooldays, and 6AM-10PM on weekends and school holidays - so its not inherently stupid that I was there after dark, although arguably a questionable call.....)

no luck

November 22nd, 2005:
Hmmmmm.....gate is locked again.

Well by golly I will just call one of the assistant principals. I pick Joni, as that name sounds friendly and consumer-conscious (think "Joni Mitchell"...she cares - right?)
I get through the secretary and speak to Joni. She is very apologetic and feels badly that I have been inconvenienced. Wow....this is great. She will see that this problem is solved/resolved/re-solved.

optimistic? yes?

1st contact

November 15th, 2005:
I contact TUSD (Tucson Unified School District) - main office. I have heard from those in the know that getting the attention of the school is much easier when the message comes from the district. I call the front end number and go through a few receptionist-types before getting a call from Beth. Beth handled community use of school facilities, and mentioned that she was getting this issue because no one knew what to do - therefore it got shuffled over to her department.

Beth communicated to the school that the gate should be open during the proscribed hours for access to the aforementioned basketball courts because of the aforementioned federal grant money. She said if I had any further trouble I could contact the Vice-Prinicipals at Sahuaro High School, Joni and Abel (no last names for now).

Looks good - smooth sailing......

the beginning

Here's my motivation : there's a high school about a block and a half from here. It has outdoor basketball courts which are open to the public during non-school hours (something to do with a federal grant 30 years ago for outdoor lighting). Anyway, a few years back they started locking the gate to these courts, the same gate that has a sign saying they are open to the public and listing the hours. I play ball down there every weekend - and after two years I get tired of jumping the fence so I decide to take a civic-minded approach and contact the school. Once they realized their mistake they would surely keep the gate unlocked as posted......right? I thought briefly of cutting off the padlock but decided this would be too anarchic - I wanted to play by the rules.

That was in November of 2005......I'm still trying.....