Friday, January 27, 2006

Fireman, Hero, My Boy

A long time ago, I moved to Long Beach from Sacramento. I went to make my fortune. I struggled with life and I had more failures than successes. I lived in 4-plex with three Pan-Am Swedish Stewardesses of legend (they really do exist.) They were beautiful, sexy, smart, and fun. The three women and one husband were also my landlords. Two were mothers of infant boys. We lived in this house all together for eight wonderful years.

The boys, as they grew, spent many hours playing in my apartment jumping from the top of the sofa onto a pile of sofa cushions and pillows, and outside on the jungle-gym geodesic dome they imagined was a spaceship. One day, a new refridgerator was delivered. I took the large cardboard box containing the 'fridge, taped the two halves together, cut a door and window, and painted it white. When I finished, I left it outside in the backyard where the boys would find it in the morning.

That box became a house, a jail, a ticket booth, a bank teller, and airline ticket station, it became anything the little boys could think of. They had literally years of fun in that big box. I had to repair and repaint the silly old box many times.

A tragedy struck our happy little refuge from the world outside. The reality and fragility of life and death was visited upon the husband of one of the ladies, the father of by now two sons making three little guys in the household. Our life in this Shangri La began falling apart rapidly. Within a very short time, we had all moved from the house to other local towns and other countries. Two of the boys that I loved so much, who saw me as a big brother, a protector, a teacher, a fixer of boo-boo's went to Sweden and one remained in Long Beach for a few years with his mom and new step-dad. This boy, Robert, was the one to whom I was closest. When his family finally moved back to Sweden I missed him as though my own son was missing from me.

Though not my son, I count Robert as one of my best successes. I always knew he would become a good man. He left when he was 13 years and now 13 years later, Robert called me tonight from a town near me where he now lives. The moment I realized Robert had returned I began to shake and it took all I had not to cry. We talked and he remembered playing in the box. Of his later life, he e-mailed photos . He knew just the ones I wanted to see. There are two that told me the most. As a boy, Robert dreamed of being a fireman, a hero. Today, he lives the dream. He is a hero. My hero. Robert has come back.

The life of Indigo Red is full of adventure. Tune in next time for the Further Adventures of Indigo Red.

John, Kerry, Ted, and Kennedy

"Teresa is in the car, Ted."
"Good. Good. It'll be over soon, John. And this time, I'm wearing floaties."

Sen. John Kerry welcomes Senior Senator Ted Kennedy to the Annual Massachusetts Hot Air Balloon Festival.

Photo from: Atlas Shrugs

The life of Indigo Red is full of adventure. Tune in next time for the Further Adventures of Indigo Red.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Saddam's Home Movies of Torture

The videos made available by Foundation for the Defense of Democracies have been available piecemeal for many years. I have three of the four videos on file myself, but I had to wade through a lot of gore and pornography to find and rescue the videos from oblivion. The more people who download and file these images and many others that turn up, the better. This is a history that must not be forgotten or swept under a magic Persian carpet.

Chapter 1 - BEATINGS, in which we witness people beaten with sticks, clubs, hands and feet. We also witness four men thrown from the roof of a building. The first man wears a T-shirt emblazoned with of Superman fame. He appears to have survives the landing. I doubt he survived the first aid.

Chapter 2 - AMPUTATIONS, in which we witness the severing of fingers with an ill-handled sword, the surgical removal of a hand by doctors sworn to do no harm, and tongues cut out with a safety razor blade.

Chapter 3 - EXECUTIONS, in which we witness men murdered with grenades stuffed into the shirt pockets, five people die by very sloppy firing squad, and a beheading with a dull sword wielded by an inept executioner.

Chapter 4 - GAS ATTACKS, in which we witness the aftermath of the 1987 -88 Anfal Campaign involving mustard gas bombs and nerve agent bombs dropped on civilian Kurdish elderly and infants, boys and girls, men and women, dogs and goats; if there was life before, there was no life afterward. Halabja was just 1 of 40 such attacks.

In the interests of fairness, we should contrast the foregoing with pictures of real torture:
None of the animals held in Abu Ghraib and shown here were actually harmed; they only thought they would be harmed. What people think is not a crime.

The life of Indigo Red is full of adventure. Tune in next time for the Further Adventures of Indigo Red.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Jaquez Mason Dead at 3 Years

Jaquez Mason, 3 years old, is dead because he soiled his diaper. His mother dunked him in scalding hot water as punishment. Jaquez died from complications of second and third degree burns over half of his little body.

He had seven brothers and sisters who were removed from the mother, Valerie Kennedy, 30 yrs, because they were all abused. The grandmother was raising five of the children. The mother was illegally allowed by the grandmother a visit on Christmas Day and Jaquez was tortuered at the mothers apartment.

The grandmother is being charged with murder for allowing the visit and then not reporting the scalding abuse to authorities until after the little boy stopped breathing a week later on New Years Day. He died 30 minutes after being treated by emergency medical personnel.

The mother is being held without bail. She should be shot. The child welfare officer in charge of the case should be shot. The doctors who allowed this woman to have seven children should be shot. The grandmother should be released as she only committed poor judgment and misplaced compassion for her daughter.

Jaquez Mason was only three years old. Look at the face of this little boy. How could anyone harm him? For the love of God, he was only three!

The life of Indigo Red is full of adventure. Tune in next time for the Further Adventures of Indigo Red.