Our delightful world of doltocratic reality-detachitude

     “Detachment from reality.” There’s an interesting notion. All of us, I think, are somewhat detached from What Is. Few are entirely detached. There’s lots of room in the middle.
     Some people are both very and entertainingly reality-detached. Such a one is Mr. Steve Rocco of Orange. You’ll recall that, several years ago, the clueless and staunch people of the city of Orange elected him onto the board of the Orange Unified School District—evidently on the strength of his claiming to be an “educator,” something he isn’t. He showed up to board meetings with a signature nutty getup and a daft conspiracy theory having to do with sausages. He was incompetent. He was disruptive. He was a nut.
     There was nothing to be done about it, 'cause this is a democracy, and the people had spoken. His colleagues censured him (so what). They tried to recall him, but they couldn’t get enough staunch Orangeites to stop and think. They snarled instead.
     The people of Orange were saved from persistent Roccohood by a fortuity, namely, a redistricting, which redefined Rocco’s seat’s area in a manner that failed to include Rocco’s home, a treehouse in Hart Park. (I made up that last part.)
     Naturally, later, he was caught stealing ketchup from the Chapman University cafeteria. (He did not steal one of Chapman’s ironic Albert Schweitzer monuments. That would have been intelligible.)
     There was a trial. He blathered about his favorite conspiracy. More sausage. He lost.
     He ran for city council. No luck there. Then, recently, he ran for OC Public Administrator—against incumbent and über jackass John Williams, who happens to be an SOCCCD trustees. Naturally, despite two “scathing” grand jury reports about Williams’ disastrous performance and character, the voters reelected him. They did this even though one or two apparently knowledgeable alternative candidates, not including Mr. Rocco, were also on the ballot.
     (Once in a while, I get into a debate with somebody about whether you’ve got a democracy when the voters are persistently bone stupid (well, bone ignorant)—and also persistently incapable of recognizing that fact. Some say yes: it’s just a shitty kind of democracy is all, a Doltocracy. Some say no: focus on the manipulators, the “engineers of consent,” they say. They’re the real rulers. Owing to the apparently limited intents of the so-called “manipulators,” I tend to favor the first view.)
     Well, according to the Greater Orange News Service, Rocco is at it again:

Controversial former Orange Unified School Board Trustee Steve Rocco has pulled papers to run in Trustee Area 7 of the sprawling Greater Orange school district. Rocco served one turbulent term on the OUSD Board … and then a recall effort led by other Board members that failed due to lack of signatures. He eventually was ousted not by recall or election, but by a redistricting…. Trustees in OUSD must live in the Area they represent, but are elected at-large).Trustee Area 7 is represented by Trustee Rick Ledesma and his term expires in November. Ledesma was one of the few people who managed not to get into a conflict with Rocco, at one point even sponsoring Rocco putting two Agenda items on the Board’s agenda. When Rocco’s home was moved into Ledesma’s area, Rocco declared that he would not run against Ledesma….

     OK, so, on top of being a lunatic, Rocco is disloyal to his friends and doesn’t keep his word. But that just makes him ordinary.

     According to Mr. Cunningham over on the Red County blog, the people of Orange aren’t about to make the same mistake twice, but I’m not so sure. I recall talking to a hotshot political scientist in the middle of the Steve Frogue recall (back in ’98). Said Professor Hotshot: it could be that your recall effort will only make Frogue’s name vaguely familiar to voters as they enter the voting booth in a couple of years. Voters don't think; they don't pay attention. So they won’t remember that Frogue's a nut and a Holocaust denier; they’ll remember only his name.
     So, natch, they’ll vote for ‘im.
     In a way, I hope Rocco wins. He may be a nut, but he doesn’t seem to have vices exactly. (Not like Williams, who’s all Shit-Eating-Grin.) If you’re going to have a democracy that, owing to the foolishness of the people, barely works, it’s better to elect incompetent lunatics than incompetent, smiling Shit-shire Cats.
     It’s no less ridiculous, but it’s a smidge less corrupt.

Westphal v. Wagner moves forward

     Just got word that the lawyers filed our “opening brief” last night—in Westphal v. Wagner, our suit challenging prayer practices in the SOCCCD.
     As you know, the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution expressly forbids government “establishing” religion. When trustees and college/district officials lead prayer (e.g., at commencement), they are acting as agents of the government. At such times, the government is leading religious prayer (“invoking” the Lord) before the religiously diverse community that the colleges serve.
     Among the plaintiffs are theists, agnostics, and atheists. They represent members of the community and faculty and students at the two colleges.
     I’m told that “defendants” (namely, SOCCCD Board Pres. Wagner, et al.) have 28 days to respond, but they’ll likely get an extension. After they file their response, we can file a reply.
     Then: oral argument in court.
     The lawyers happened to mention that there are 700 pages in the “Excerpts of Record,” which comprises evidence from both sides.
     Sheesh!

     For those who wish to read Red Emma’s book review in Sunday’s Times, here’s the link: Book review: 'Kicking In: Stories' by Richard Wirick

Change: shampoo once came in glass bottles

     Yes, I remember Prell in particular. In that glass bottle. You could kill a guy with it.
     (A reader inspired my Prellian reverie.)

     That reverie inspired yet another: I recall my family's pink '55 Ford station wagon:

     Here are Annie and I, leaning on the old beast. This would have been about 1958.

     We kept the darned thing well into the 60s. Drove down from BC to Southern Cal with it twice: in 1958 (Disneyland!) and then again in 1959. It's what we were driving when we finally got permission to stay in the U.S. in 1960.

     The color: it was a weird pink, but I do believe that Ford called it "salmon."

     Yet another pic of the salmon wagon, or at least its front end.

     "Who's this lady with dad?", I recently asked my mother.

     "Oh, she vas a mudder*—vutt do you call it? — in Hamburg, I tink," she answered.

     "A mother?"

     "Yes, you know. She ran a business vit prostitutes!"

     "She was a 'Madame'?"

     "Yes, a 'Madame'! She vas one of dose. Her daughter vas a friend of ours back den. Gisele. Dat's her little boy."

     "Gisele's boy?"

     "Yah, dat boy vas raised in dat whorehouse," she added, disapprovingly.

     Don't know what this is about. I think they had stopped along the "Pan-Canadian Highway"— a dirt road — and mom (in the middle) was helping start a fire so they could boil water for coffee or something.
     No doubt Blondie was helpful in that regard. That's her grandson over by the fish wagon.
     Dad tells me the boy ended up "really fucked up."
     "Yeah?"
     "Oh yeah."

     Gisele was pretty hot. I'm surprised I don't remember her.
     I bet she had a heart of gold.

     (*OK, I admit that I exaggerated my mom's accent. It isn't that thick. But her speech is very German nonetheless. Heimatland!)


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You don't see salmon colored things much anymore. Above: a Salmon T-Bird.

My folks recently at the Bagdad Cafe
My mom's still a fan of all things "Hollywood"
My dad is still NOT
He liked the french fries though