Another "suspicious object" menaces Irvine campus

Lasik Danbury
For the second day in a row, Irvine Valley College officials faced a “time of crisis” at the normally quiet Irvine campus, when, on Thursday, an object was found on a campus sidewalk.

On Wednesday, for over an hour, classes were disrupted by evacuations as authorities examined a canvas bag rolled up and taped to hold about two pounds of sand in the “shape of a hotdog.” The object was originally discovered in a closet inside IVC’s administration building and was immediately tossed out into the A-quad, whereupon it was instructed to “move along.”

When the object refused to move, the Orange County Sheriff’s Department’s bomb squad was called to the scene. At about 9:30 a.m., officers evacuated the four buildings surrounding the A-quad and, using a sophisticated mobile robot system, carefully secured the object and X-rayed it.

By 10:30, the object, which proved to contain only sand, was declared to be “unremarkable,” and students and instructors were instructed to return to their classes.


At about 2:00 p.m. today, at a location near yesterday’s incident, yet another object was discovered. College officials immediately cleared the area around it and poked the object with a stick.

Glenn Roquemore, president of IVC, then called the bomb squad to the scene, and again, the object was manipulated and examined using the mobile robot.

After about fifteen minutes, the object was declared to be “perfectly unobjectionable.”

Said Randy Sturgeon of the Sheriff’s Department, “I told the college president that if he found any more objects, he should just leave them there and try to forget about them.”


UPDATE:

Thursday's odds 'n' ends

RADICAL ART REMAINS "DISAPPEARED." You'll recall that, not long ago, a painting was stolen from a wall of the Humanities Center at IVC. (See pic.) Given that it was the only object stolen, that more valuable objects were left unmolested, and, finally, that the work had a "radical" theme (concerning the plight of Latino men in California), it is reasonable to suppose that it was stolen--and subsequently destroyed--by a right-winger who was offended by its message .

As you know, the opponents of free speech and academic freedom on college campuses these days are a rude and crude bunch, and they aren't leftists; more often than not, when there's a brutish or ruthless freedom-stomping incident afoot, the culprit is a right-winger, like that UCLA knuckle-dragger who sought to pay students for recordings of "radical" professors' lectures.

The latter effort flamed out in a blaze of inglory. The knuckle-dragger lost most of his high-profile conservative supporters (Al Rantel, et al.), and he's having more trouble than ever acquiring "dirt" on left-leaning professors.

As far as I know, to date, the painting that was taken from the Humanities Center has not been recovered.

Today, I ran into Mr. Eugene Debs, who is familiar with the work and who offered me the following drawing of the piece for use in the blog:


In an effort to recover the piece, Mr. Debs will post signs around campus that display his drawing and the following message:


A HANDICAPPED HANDICAPPED RAMP. Last week, we learned that several members of the board of trustees intend to spend as much as $20,000 (total) of taxpayer money to "conference" in sunny Florida in a fancy schmancy four-star hotel (March).

In the meantime, back at the colleges, there isn't enough money, evidently, even to maintain walkway safety!

Consider the "handicapped" ramp for the CEC temporaries at IVC. It's rotten and full of holes! Check out the pics:




I took these pictures a week or two ago. Last I checked, nothing's changed.

Hey, fixing the ramp isn't expensive and it isn't rocket science. Go buy some wood, cut it to size, and hammer it in. Then paint it. My old pop could do it for about a hundred and fifty bucks. Give 'im half a day. Sheesh!

The bomb scare

t was mighty crazy at IVC today. On my way to class at 8:00 this morning, just as I walked past the front of the Administration Building (A100), I spotted two IVC cops staring down at a small canvas bag with tape wound around it. I joined them in silent downward staring. Then I said, "So what's this?" One cop said the object was mighty suspicious. He indicated that he might have to rope the area off.

I went to my classroom, which was maybe one hundred feet from the "suspicious" object, and when class was over at 9:15, I found that an area fanning out maybe one hundred feet from the object was taped off with yellow emergency tape, including the entrance to the building in which I teach. I made my way to the other exit of the building. I crossed the edge of the A-quad over to A200, but I found that I couldn't use my usual entry into that building, owing to more yellow tape and another grumpy sugar-coated cop. I went around to another entrance.

People were buzzin' about something, and I figured it was the suspicious object. I quickly typed a quiz for my 9:30 class--a Plato quiz! what could be more absurd?--and when I went to duplicate it (in the now-infamous Gensler Memorial Duplication Cubicle), an administrator told me that everybody had to evacuate the building. "Now," she added.

Turns out, all four of the A-quad buildings were being evacuated. I went way around to nearly the flagpole/parking area, and I spotted an Andros F6A multi-mission mobile robot--the kind that bomb squads use. (See pic.)


Just then, I ran into somebody who said they just saw the robot pick up the suspicious object--and drop it. Twice.

"Jeez," I said.

"Yeah. Jeez."

Naturally, lots of students and faculty, et al., were gathering outside the zone of death, marked out by yellow tape and grumpy cops. I counted two cop cars, two fire engines, and I don't know what else, near the A100 flagpole area. I spotted Glenn running around saying important things. At one point, I spotted Dennis, too. He was talking to Glenn on a walkie-talkie. He kept shouting into the phone, "the Bullhorn? the Bullhorn?"

I ran into somebody who said that, originally, "they" (the cops?) found the suspicious object in the conference room, just inside the entrance of A100. That must've been just before I ran into those cops. I guess "they" grabbed the object and just plopped it down, right there, in front of A100, creating a zone of death that included four buildings full of classrooms.

I went to one of the tailgate parties--the one near the bookstore--and listened to rumors, jokes, and semi-official pronouncements. I heard that the Foundation committee had met in the conference room at 8:00 a.m., and, somehow, the object was found there in a "suspicious spot."

What's that mean? Nobody seemed to know.

I spotted Glenn again. Someone said that, right about when the Foundation people found the "object," the fire department had been called by someone who said there was a bomb on campus. When the cops learned of this, they decided to create the big yellow zone of death. (Turns out the "phone" story wasn't true.)

Glenn told somebody (who told me) that we've got nothing to worry about, cuz he's set up a command post in the temporaries.

That must've inspired broad smileage.

By then, it was clear that my 9:30 class--and lots of other classes--would not be held this morning. I hadn't even met yet with my 9:30 group, and I wondered what they must be thinking. A few of my students found me and asked what all this craziness meant. "It means that our class is cancelled, I guess," I said. The students thrilled. They squealed and giggled. I nearly joined them.

The crowds seemed to grow over time, and a festive spirit set in. Some people created little bomb discussion groups and wandered into the cafeteria. Others sat under trees, picnic-style, and wondered who would pull a "prank" like this. I heard a cop say, "the guy who did this, he better hope we don't catch 'im!" I nodded agreement, stupidly.

It was like a carnival, a celebration. I saw somebody dance. A girl who looked like Britney Spears was wigglin' around in the parking lot. It was, well, beautiful. I do believe that today's IVC bomb party will go down as this generation's Woodstock.

By 10:15, it was clear that this little "bomb scare" was seriously cutting into the teaching day. It seemed clear, too, that some students, upon hearing about the "bomb scare," planned to miss even classes held later in the day. They were enveloped in a fine "hooky" spirit, and who could blame them?

About then, I spotted the OC Sheriff's Department bomb crew helping Mr. Robot into his van. The fire engines drove off, one sporting a big American flag. I saw a bus with a picture of Adam Carolla on it. "This is what you get after a year and a half of Junior College," screamed the ad.

At 10:30, they sounded the "all-clear," and the fun was over. I hummed the Star-Spangled Banner in silence, as I watched people scatter and disappear.


ours later, President Roquemore sent everyone a fine memo, which included some of the photos displayed here. He wrote:

Colleagues:

As you might have heard by now, the college evacuated the A-Quad this morning after an unattended and unusual looking bag was found in Room A-126 during a Foundation meeting. It appeared to be a canvas tote wrapped tightly with vinyl tape. Because of its suspicious appearance, IVCPD Chief Owen Kreza responded by calling the Orange County Sheriff’s Department Bomb Squad, which arrived around 9:30 a.m. to have a look at the object. The Bomb Squad x-rayed the bag using a remote-controlled robot before determining that there was no threat. The tote turned out to be filled with two bags of sand, which the Fire Department speculates might have been used by someone—perhaps one of our students—as a makeshift barbell. I am sure we are all relieved that it turned out to be nothing more than homemade exercise equipment. Incidentally, there is no truth to the rumor that a bomb threat had been called in to the college when the bag was found.

I would like to extend my sincerest appreciation to Owen and our campus police for their swift and very necessary response to the situation. And thanks also to Wayne Ward and the Facilities staff who worked jointly with him to set up a perimeter to control the crowd and traffic in and near the A-Quad. Job well done. I appreciate efforts of all who calmly and professionally came together during this time of crises to handle what had the potential of being a very serious matter.

As I was leaving for home, I spotted the latest issue of the Lariat. Boy, those Lariat jokers are something else! How on earth did they manage to get this "bomb" scare story out so fast?

They do such a good job, I decided to reproduce the Lariat's front page below. (Click on the image to make it bigger.)

The Lariat "gaucho"

bout a week ago, Rebel Girl seemed particularly peevish, and so I asked her what was up, and she showed me the Sports page of the latest Lariat (Jan. 31). Evidently, some knucklehead on the paper had made an unfortunate choice to represent the Saddleback College mascot, the Gaucho.

Here's a portion of the Sports page, sporting two "Gaucho" images:


According to Rebel Girl, the Lariat's "Gaucho" bears an unfortunately close resemblance to the "Frito Bandito," a character used to sell Fritos corn chips in the 60s--until Frito Lay was pressured to drop the bandit, owing to complaints that he presented a negative stereotype (the sneaky thief).

Oddly, Rebel Girl remembered the Frito Bandito song, which she proceeded to sing:

Aye, yii, yii, yiiii,
I am the Frito Bandito.
I like Frito's Corn Chips,
I love them I do.
I want Frito's Corn Chips,
I'll get them from you.

Aye, yii, yii, yiiii,
Oh, I am the Frito Bandito.
Give me Frito Corn chips
And I'll be your friend.
The Frito Bandito
You must not offend.

The Frito Bandito was sly and sneaky, but the Lariat's Gaucho appears to be more angry and cross-eyed. Still, the two characters are cousins.

Like the Frito Bandito, the Lariat's "Gaucho" appears to be Mexican, for he is wearing a sombrero. Mexican cowboys ("vaqueros") wear sombreros, I guess. But the Gaucho is not Mexican, but Argentinean, and he doesn't wear no stinkin' sombrero. (Students, Argentina is on a different continent, the one to the south.)

I found a website dedicated to the Argentinean Gaucho, where I found this image:


I showed the Lariat Gaucho to knowledgeable Latino colleagues, who assured me that that "Gaucho" causes OUCHO followed by GROUCHO.

Padberg: closing in on “junket” abuse?

[2-7-06] Years ago, the then-student trustee came to me with some concerns. He told me that, in his opinion, some board members were abusing the perks of their office, especially with regard to travel and reimbursed expenses. He didn’t seem to have much to offer in the way of concrete details—it was more a sense of what sort of thing generally went on.

The worst abuser, according to the student, was John Williams. “That guy is something else,” he said.

Since I had no way of verifying the kid’s sense of things, I didn’t pursue the matter.

s you know, Trustee Padberg has worked in recent years for trustee Williams at his Public Administrator job. A few months ago, however, there was much buzzage in the district regarding Padberg’s sudden firing. The story was that, in recent years or months, the Nance had failed sufficiently to support the Fuentes/Wagner/Williams right-wing agenda, which included support of Raghu Mathur. As you know, Padberg can no longer abide the fellow. So she had to be sacked.

Whether or not the story’s true, it is beyond doubt that, at the time of Padberg’s noisy termination from her county gig, board meetings started featuring some seriously nasty snipage. The snipage usually pitted Padberg against Williams, Wagner, Fuentes, or Mathur.

Well, at last Tuesday’s board meeting, the snipage intensified.

It started at the beginning of the open session, when Padberg requested a report on trustee travel expenses. And not only trustee expenses: the expenses of “top management,” too—i.e., Raghuian expenses.

One can only assume that she's looking there because she knows there's something there to find. Know what I mean?

We all looked at each other: “What’s that about?” Raghu’s lower lip undulated. His nose crinkled and snorted.

Naturally, no board member could afford to oppose Nancy’s bloodhoundery. Her request was approved unanimously.

But, man, there was definitely something in the air. It was a popcorn moment for the audience.

A few minutes later, phase 2 of Nancy’s Embarrassment Project was unveiled. She pulled item 27—trustee requests for specific travel expenses—from the consent calendar. That is, she asked that that item be discussed rather than summarily approved.

Again, a dark and fetid weirdness prevailed. The audience smiled. It was good.

When the board finally got to item 27, Padberg explained that she was particularly concerned about the intention of five district officials (three or four trustees plus possibly a chancellor or vice chancellor, I think) to attend a conference in Orlando, Florida. Said Nancy, our trustees and administrators apparently can’t be bothered to attend local conferences—she was embarrassed, she said, when she and only one other trustee attended a recent state conference. And yet, said Nancy, these five were planning to blow as much as $20,000 of taxpayer money on a trip way out to the goddam Sunshine State.

Predictably, Williams responded to Padberg’s worries by declaring his intention to attend that convention with bells on. This particular convention is stupendously valuable, he said. Heck, said he, Dr. Bill Weary would be there to lead a session. Imagine that!

Weary, it seems, was the consultant who helped the board arrive at its infamously unimpressive “Chancellor goals.” Remember those?

Padberg reminded Williams that the board was “very divided” concerning the worth of Dr. Weary’s assistance re goals. (I did not know that.) Plus, said Nancy, one Weary session in Orlando is not sufficient to justify flying across the country!

Mathur then piped up, seemingly on cue. He offered what logic teachers call a “circumstantial ad hominem.” That’s when you accuse your opponent of some kind of inconsistency—which, logically speaking, is irrelevant to the worth of your opponent’s position.

Basically, it’s sophistry.

In particular, Mathur seemed to say that, two years ago, he went to a convention, and you know what? Nancy urged him to go to the damned thing! He then adopted an air of victory.

I think the idea was that Padberg was revealed to be inconsistent or hypocritical, and so screw her. Not sure. At any rate, Padberg then declared that she did no such thing.

That’s when our Raghu went badly off the rails. He said, simply, “Yes, you did.” Then he went out of his way to repeat his assertion.

Now, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that, on the first day of Chancellor’s school, they teach you never to call a trustee a liar!

Eventually, John Williams bloviated anew, this time explaining to his colleagues that a trustee’s “code of ethics” requires that he attend conferences!

The poor fellow seemed to be saying that it would be unethical for trustees not to go to Florida! He also seemed to say that any trustee who is unwilling to junket to Florida is living "in a box."

As if that weren’t enough, Williams then tossed in his own little ad hominem, for he reminded his audience of the charge, recently leveled, that Nancy doesn’t prepare for board meetings!

Padberg smiled at that one. She waited for Williams to belch forth his whole hairball, whereupon she reminded everyone that she does not oppose trustees attending conferences. Nope. Rather, she opposes trustees attending distant and expensive conferences when cheap local ones are at hand.

That’s when Nancy's rhetoric took a sudden turn south. She next seemed to accuse unnamed trustees of using these trips to rack up “bonus miles” for personal and family use! All at once, there was a hideous silence and a sulphurous stink. Fuentes smiled. For him, such stinkoid situations are positively gemutlich.

It’s a “junket,” she said. It’s taxpayer “abuse,” she added.

Naturally, Padberg’s effort to block approval of the taxpayers funding Johnny's good time in Florida went down in flames. Only trustee Bill Jay voted with her.

I’ve prepared two AUDIO files from that night. They tell the story. I think you’ll enjoy them.

PART ONE

1. PADBERG REQUESTS REPORT
She wants to know who’s racking up expenses, and how much these expenses are.

2. DISCUSSION OF ITEM 27 (TRAVEL REIMBURSEMENT)

Padberg questions the planned participation of five district officials in an AGB conference in Orlando, Florida. She’s embarrassed that district officials do not attend important state and local conferences for trustees. Why go to this one clear across the country?

Williams declares that he will attend. He notes that Dr. Bill Weary will be there.

PART TWO

3. MATHUR CONTRA PADBERG
Mathur defends district participation in the Orlando convention. He and Nancy disagree about whether she once urged him to go to a conference. Raghu seems to call her a liar.

4. WILLIAMS CONTRA PADABERG
Williams appeals to trustee ethics. Padberg highlights the potential $15,000-20,000 cost of the trip.

THE PEABODY ORLANDO

Oh yeah. You really should check out the Hotel that trustees will be staying at in Orlando. It’s called the Peabody Orlando, and its snazzy and ritzy and decadent. It's easy to picture John Boy there. Here are some pics. (Go to http://www.peabodyorlando.com/)

Painting a pig

Lasik Danbury


t's the same old Mr. Goo.

Yesterday, Academic Senators at IVC got their first look at a chart, depicting the Chancellor's proposed "District decision-making process." We gaped at it (click on image to make it larger):


Here's a close-up of those top three boxes:

And here are the bottom 8:


"Gee," said some. "This seems to be a portrait of micromanagement by the board and total control by the Chancellor."

"How come the faculty don't appear anywhere on this chart?" asked others.


Our representatives have already attempted to persuade the Chancellor that his model just won't do. The fellow indicated that he would make some changes to it.

One change, we were told, will be its name: the Chancellor indicated that it will now be called the "shared governance" decision-making process.

Quipped one senator, "that's like painting a pig."

UPDATE: Saddleback College and IVC Accreditation "action letters"

Yesterday, we reported that IVC was spanked anew by the Accrediting Agency: the college must submit a new report on Oct. 15. This will be followed by yet another site visit. D'oh!

In the case of IVC, the college's efforts to respond to the accrediting agency's 8 recommendations (January '05) were judged inadequate or unacceptable with regard to recommendations 6, 7, and 8 (i.e., board micromanagement, unclarity with regard to constituency groups' roles and responsibilities, and the "plague of despair").

That result pointed a finger of blame at the Board and the Chancellor.

At today's (IVC) Academic Senate meeting, we learned that Saddleback College, too, has heard from the accrediting agency (ACCJC/WASC). Evidently, in the case of Saddleback College, which initially received 6 recommendations, the college was judged to have offered an inadequate response to all six recommendations. D'OH!

We'll provide details as we get them.

Below is the letter received yesterday by IVC's Glenn "Milquetoast" Roquemore (click on the image to make it larger):