You might have missed this speech.
President Elect Obama gave it back in May of '07 in Detroit in front of Auto Industry execs. and city leaders when he wasn't considered a serious hope for the White House.
If you want to know what he said he will do with the auto industry as president, check out the speech linked below.
You'll notice that there is silence and reserve and discomfort in the room as this man, our new president, says exactly what he thinks is wrong with Detroit.
Keep in mind how far ahead of the time he was.
Watch and smile!
Please note Obama's use of the phrase, "Tyranny of Oil" and compare that with his current nominations for cabinet positions.
UPDATE 1.15.09
Please notice Obama's use of the phrase, "Tyranny of oil" in this speech, and compare that with his current cabinet nominees in energy and the environment.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The Last Debreifing of Bill Boyd
I took this job for love. There was no money.
A woman I know, a talented producer and director I have worked with over the the past several years, needed a favor.
Her father, Bill Boyd, is getting up in years. He's 86 years old now.
As a young man of 22 he was a bombardier in a B-17 with the 8th Air Force flying missions in World War II over Germany. On his 18th mission, he was shot down, wounded by flack and captured on the ground. He spent the rest of the war in a German POW camp. And after years of keeping his story to himself, telling bits and pieces of it to family and other veterans of the war, he was ready to tell his war story on camera. His daughter said to me, "Dads still real sharp, but now is the time." Knowing my love of history, she asked me if I would interview him.
How could I say no?
I know my American History pretty well. I knew I could help him tell his narrative. But we wanted something more personal. We wanted to look inside the man who went to war, came home and raised his family. We wanted a document that included background and details that would help future generations and historians put a face on the dry text of history. And I wanted the details that are often not recorded. Details so ordinary in the moment, that they become lost in later interpretation. Anyone who has talked to veterans of that war know those details and inside looks are hard to get. But Bill was ready to tell it and I wanted to help him.
We talked for almost 10 hours over two days and the whole of our conversation was recorded on HD video at Brent Sumner's studio in Santa Barbara. What came out was what historians would call an "excellent primary source". What I heard was a remarkable story told by an honorable and humble man.
Even after all the years that have passed, Bill has an amazing memory for dates, places, people and names. For his own reasons he memorized an incredibly detailed record of his life. As I probed for memories, emotions, background details and stories, more would come pouring out.
The hours of Bill's last debriefing will one day be edited and produced into a documentary film. Some will remain as a priceless record for genealogists to come. Some will help tell the story of the American Air Force in Europe. And some will help us understand who we were as a people in 1944, and after the war.
I scratched notes as we talked, questions to ask that would illuminate the man and the record. As the son of a WWII veteran, I probed for insights into the man who raised his children after the war. And as the product of the modern era, I looked for reasons to label his actions in ways I could understand and relate to my own contemporary understanding. What I found went beyond those meanings to the truth I sensed he was telling about himself, about his war and about how it had affected him.
I won't relate all of his adventures here. They're exciting alright, but the deeper message moved me more.
Several times I asked him about his feelings. About his duty, about the missions, about bailing out of a dying B-17 near the Swiss border. He answered honestly each time. But at one point he began to talk about fear. He said he was afraid on every mission. But what he was most afraid of was failing. He was most afraid of letting down the men who depended on him to do his job. And in that emotion was a key to what I've heard so many times. "I'm not a hero. I was just doing the best I could to do my job. There were a lot of other guys over there doing the same thing."
Nothing special. Just a guy doing his job.
On a day in the summer of 1944 over Germany that job got pretty tough. In five minutes, flack bursts turned the aluminum hull of the "Strictly From Hunger" into a sieve. Off target, leaking gas and with engines dying, Bill found his bomb sight blown to pieces, he snuffed smoldering electrical wiring with his fingers and realized that a bit of red hot shrapnel had pierced through his shoulder.
The ball turret gunner came forward, cut open Bill's flight suit, gave him a shot of morphine and bandaged his wound. Then, because his right arm was numb, the gunner strapped Bill's parachute upside down on him so he could pull the cord with his left arm. Bill exited the plane from the forward escape hatch and he fell as far as he could before pulling the ripcord. The whole crew got out. Half didn't survive on the ground.
Just a guy doing his job.
Modern people are so complicated. We look so deep for answers and examine every detail. A difficult time called for simpler answers.
In the POW camp, Bill said, "You got to tell your horror story once. Then nobody wanted to hear it anymore. Everbody had one. You got to tell yours once."
This week Bill got to tell it again. In the studio we asked him to please tell it all. Because we all need to hear it.
A woman I know, a talented producer and director I have worked with over the the past several years, needed a favor.
Her father, Bill Boyd, is getting up in years. He's 86 years old now.
As a young man of 22 he was a bombardier in a B-17 with the 8th Air Force flying missions in World War II over Germany. On his 18th mission, he was shot down, wounded by flack and captured on the ground. He spent the rest of the war in a German POW camp. And after years of keeping his story to himself, telling bits and pieces of it to family and other veterans of the war, he was ready to tell his war story on camera. His daughter said to me, "Dads still real sharp, but now is the time." Knowing my love of history, she asked me if I would interview him.
How could I say no?
I know my American History pretty well. I knew I could help him tell his narrative. But we wanted something more personal. We wanted to look inside the man who went to war, came home and raised his family. We wanted a document that included background and details that would help future generations and historians put a face on the dry text of history. And I wanted the details that are often not recorded. Details so ordinary in the moment, that they become lost in later interpretation. Anyone who has talked to veterans of that war know those details and inside looks are hard to get. But Bill was ready to tell it and I wanted to help him.
We talked for almost 10 hours over two days and the whole of our conversation was recorded on HD video at Brent Sumner's studio in Santa Barbara. What came out was what historians would call an "excellent primary source". What I heard was a remarkable story told by an honorable and humble man.
Even after all the years that have passed, Bill has an amazing memory for dates, places, people and names. For his own reasons he memorized an incredibly detailed record of his life. As I probed for memories, emotions, background details and stories, more would come pouring out.
The hours of Bill's last debriefing will one day be edited and produced into a documentary film. Some will remain as a priceless record for genealogists to come. Some will help tell the story of the American Air Force in Europe. And some will help us understand who we were as a people in 1944, and after the war.
I scratched notes as we talked, questions to ask that would illuminate the man and the record. As the son of a WWII veteran, I probed for insights into the man who raised his children after the war. And as the product of the modern era, I looked for reasons to label his actions in ways I could understand and relate to my own contemporary understanding. What I found went beyond those meanings to the truth I sensed he was telling about himself, about his war and about how it had affected him.
I won't relate all of his adventures here. They're exciting alright, but the deeper message moved me more.
Several times I asked him about his feelings. About his duty, about the missions, about bailing out of a dying B-17 near the Swiss border. He answered honestly each time. But at one point he began to talk about fear. He said he was afraid on every mission. But what he was most afraid of was failing. He was most afraid of letting down the men who depended on him to do his job. And in that emotion was a key to what I've heard so many times. "I'm not a hero. I was just doing the best I could to do my job. There were a lot of other guys over there doing the same thing."
Nothing special. Just a guy doing his job.
On a day in the summer of 1944 over Germany that job got pretty tough. In five minutes, flack bursts turned the aluminum hull of the "Strictly From Hunger" into a sieve. Off target, leaking gas and with engines dying, Bill found his bomb sight blown to pieces, he snuffed smoldering electrical wiring with his fingers and realized that a bit of red hot shrapnel had pierced through his shoulder.
The ball turret gunner came forward, cut open Bill's flight suit, gave him a shot of morphine and bandaged his wound. Then, because his right arm was numb, the gunner strapped Bill's parachute upside down on him so he could pull the cord with his left arm. Bill exited the plane from the forward escape hatch and he fell as far as he could before pulling the ripcord. The whole crew got out. Half didn't survive on the ground.
Just a guy doing his job.
Modern people are so complicated. We look so deep for answers and examine every detail. A difficult time called for simpler answers.
In the POW camp, Bill said, "You got to tell your horror story once. Then nobody wanted to hear it anymore. Everbody had one. You got to tell yours once."
This week Bill got to tell it again. In the studio we asked him to please tell it all. Because we all need to hear it.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Zawahiri Appoints House Negro
MSNBC REPORTS:
Al-Qaida No. 2 Ayman al-Zawahri has criticized President-elect Barack Obama, calling him a demeaning racial term implying that Obama is a black American who does the bidding of whites.
In an audio message which appeared on militant Web sites Wednesday, al-Zawahri said that Obama is “the direct opposite of honorable black Americans” like Malcolm X. He called Obama a “house negro.”
With all the excitement and speculation about the new administration and Obama's picks for the cabinet it's understandable that Mr. al-Zawahiri would get carried away and make his predictions too.
But on November 4th, the American people elected Barack Obama to be master of the house. And as it looks today, either Hillary Clinton or Bill Richardson will be the house negro.
While al-Zawahiri's pick may have been off the mark and displayed a lack of understanding of American politics and government, he does have the distinction of making a remarkably original point.
Not even in the heat of the contest did evil terrorist Sean Hannity suggest that Barack Obama did the bidding of white people. Perhaps his eyes are open now!
UPDATE: WHITE HOUSE CONFIRMS "HOUSE NEGRO" IS NOT A CABINET POSITION
Al-Qaida No. 2 Ayman al-Zawahri has criticized President-elect Barack Obama, calling him a demeaning racial term implying that Obama is a black American who does the bidding of whites.
In an audio message which appeared on militant Web sites Wednesday, al-Zawahri said that Obama is “the direct opposite of honorable black Americans” like Malcolm X. He called Obama a “house negro.”
With all the excitement and speculation about the new administration and Obama's picks for the cabinet it's understandable that Mr. al-Zawahiri would get carried away and make his predictions too.
But on November 4th, the American people elected Barack Obama to be master of the house. And as it looks today, either Hillary Clinton or Bill Richardson will be the house negro.
While al-Zawahiri's pick may have been off the mark and displayed a lack of understanding of American politics and government, he does have the distinction of making a remarkably original point.
Not even in the heat of the contest did evil terrorist Sean Hannity suggest that Barack Obama did the bidding of white people. Perhaps his eyes are open now!
UPDATE: WHITE HOUSE CONFIRMS "HOUSE NEGRO" IS NOT A CABINET POSITION
So Long Don. See You on the Internets
Don Frederick has left the building.
He's been downsized over at the LA Times political blog, "Top of the Ticket"
Top of the ticket was one of my favorite places to read political comment starting late last winter. Don Frederick worked out of the LA Times Washington Bureau and fellow blogger Andrew Malcolm worked form an undisclosed location.
Both wrote brilliant coverage during the Democratic primary season. After the general election, they continued to lead the news with commentary, though I began to read them in terms of left and right. Don always seemed to "get it" in my view; a sure sign that he is in fact a biased news source with a left wing radical agenda...my kinda guy!
Andrew Malcom, whom I respect, once earned my wrath for publishing a totally bogus conservative hit piece on Canadian abortion policy. It was retracted by the Times and corrected on the blog, which I thanked them for.
Now the election is over and the recession has pulled up to the front door. The Times are cutting staff. Mr. Frederick has taken a buy out and is moving on. But you know, when a radio station I worked for was automated so that the air staff could be fired a friend of mine said, "You can't replace somebody with nobody." Since nobody at the newspaper could figure out how to monetize Don Frederick with ads from the strip clubs near LAX, cuts had to be made.
And so, Andrew Malcolm and Top of the Ticket - you have my best wishes. But this would seem to be the wrong year to have your political blog equal the sound of one hand clapping. In a year when the political tide has clearly turned do I want only the perspective of an establishment conservative in exile? Or do I want to know what the government is actually doing.
Good luck Don, let us know where you land.
He's been downsized over at the LA Times political blog, "Top of the Ticket"
Top of the ticket was one of my favorite places to read political comment starting late last winter. Don Frederick worked out of the LA Times Washington Bureau and fellow blogger Andrew Malcolm worked form an undisclosed location.
Both wrote brilliant coverage during the Democratic primary season. After the general election, they continued to lead the news with commentary, though I began to read them in terms of left and right. Don always seemed to "get it" in my view; a sure sign that he is in fact a biased news source with a left wing radical agenda...my kinda guy!
Andrew Malcom, whom I respect, once earned my wrath for publishing a totally bogus conservative hit piece on Canadian abortion policy. It was retracted by the Times and corrected on the blog, which I thanked them for.
Now the election is over and the recession has pulled up to the front door. The Times are cutting staff. Mr. Frederick has taken a buy out and is moving on. But you know, when a radio station I worked for was automated so that the air staff could be fired a friend of mine said, "You can't replace somebody with nobody." Since nobody at the newspaper could figure out how to monetize Don Frederick with ads from the strip clubs near LAX, cuts had to be made.
And so, Andrew Malcolm and Top of the Ticket - you have my best wishes. But this would seem to be the wrong year to have your political blog equal the sound of one hand clapping. In a year when the political tide has clearly turned do I want only the perspective of an establishment conservative in exile? Or do I want to know what the government is actually doing.
Good luck Don, let us know where you land.
Awful Good to be Home
Born and raised in the San Roque neighborhood of Santa Barbara, product of northside public schools (Peabody and La Colina) and Bishop Diego High School, I've seen a lot of things change.
The fire this week sort of brought me back home again. Sometimes I need to touch base with the comforts of home to know who I am and where I belong.
I was trying to write a script this morning but I couldn't seem to focus. So I got in the car, drove down to State Street and went to the post office to check the mail. I ran into local vaquero and Jedlicka's store owner Si Jenkins. "How's your house Si?" I asked. "Oh, fine" he said.
I Happened to know that the fire was right up the road from his home.
"Josiah came over and sprayed water on the roof and the yard to knock down the embers that were blowing around."
"Did you get your horses out?"
"Oh yeah, yeah."
He made it sound like they'd moved away a month ago and he was forwarding their mail. The fact is he must have moved his horses before doing anything else that night because it was only a matter of an hour or two after the first alarm that the fire was racing his way. Catherine Remak reported on the radio that traffic was stopped on Foothill near mission canyon that night by a woman riding her horse out of the hills to safety. Losing a horse in a fire would truly be awful.
I asked Si to say hello to Karen and stepped out of the Post Office. I remembered when Irene Davis Bakery was next door and my mother would sometimes stop inside. I remember the smell of baking bread and cinnamon in the air outside. Stepping inside we were greeted by the smell of fresh coffee. I used to ask my mother for one of the free donut holes that sat on a little white china plate next to the big silver coffee urn.
"Only One".
I tucked the approximately 80 catalogs in the mail under my arm and walked from the post office down along the little row of shops. I passed where Jim Rankin's Toy Store used to be. When I was a kid that was where you got all the toys baby boomers remember from Mattel and Whammo. Remember "Creeple People?" I really wanted a Thing Maker.
Just down at the end of the arcade of shops I walked in to the Farmer Boy Restaurant.
One of the original tenants in what used to be the a little shopping center at the edge of town, the Farmer Boy is a 50 year old coffee shop. Nothing fancy. Don't look for any nouveau cuisine. (hit the link for pictures, details and customer comments). "Awful Good Food" is the slogan painted on the side of the building.
You can't get a latte. On the other hand, you can get a cinnamon roll instead of toast with your bacon and eggs.
This is a locals hangout. Last December 7, I sat at the counter and had breakfast with Danny Ramirez of "Danny's Custom Styling". Danny lived just 2 doors down from us when he opened his barber shop in 1960. Both he and my dad were WWII Vets raising young kids in the suburbs.
I said, "Happy Pearl Harbor Day Danny."
He told me that just after Pearl Harbor he'd gone with friends in Santa Barbara to enlist in the Navy. He served on a destroyer in the Pacific and that's where he learned to cut hair. Guys were lined up for haircuts from the ships barber so they could pass inspection. Danny set up shop with scissors so that his shipmates could get cleaned up in time for inspection.
We talked about my brothers and his kids and grand kids and then shook hands and went off to work.
Now I'm back home. And it's time to get back to work.
* * * * * *
Quote of the day:
"I have a lot of depth, a lot of layers."
Ashley Dupre - Eliot Spitzer Prostitute
A lot of layers? Priceless!
The fire this week sort of brought me back home again. Sometimes I need to touch base with the comforts of home to know who I am and where I belong.
I was trying to write a script this morning but I couldn't seem to focus. So I got in the car, drove down to State Street and went to the post office to check the mail. I ran into local vaquero and Jedlicka's store owner Si Jenkins. "How's your house Si?" I asked. "Oh, fine" he said.
I Happened to know that the fire was right up the road from his home.
"Josiah came over and sprayed water on the roof and the yard to knock down the embers that were blowing around."
"Did you get your horses out?"
"Oh yeah, yeah."
He made it sound like they'd moved away a month ago and he was forwarding their mail. The fact is he must have moved his horses before doing anything else that night because it was only a matter of an hour or two after the first alarm that the fire was racing his way. Catherine Remak reported on the radio that traffic was stopped on Foothill near mission canyon that night by a woman riding her horse out of the hills to safety. Losing a horse in a fire would truly be awful.
I asked Si to say hello to Karen and stepped out of the Post Office. I remembered when Irene Davis Bakery was next door and my mother would sometimes stop inside. I remember the smell of baking bread and cinnamon in the air outside. Stepping inside we were greeted by the smell of fresh coffee. I used to ask my mother for one of the free donut holes that sat on a little white china plate next to the big silver coffee urn.
"Only One".
I tucked the approximately 80 catalogs in the mail under my arm and walked from the post office down along the little row of shops. I passed where Jim Rankin's Toy Store used to be. When I was a kid that was where you got all the toys baby boomers remember from Mattel and Whammo. Remember "Creeple People?" I really wanted a Thing Maker.
Just down at the end of the arcade of shops I walked in to the Farmer Boy Restaurant.
One of the original tenants in what used to be the a little shopping center at the edge of town, the Farmer Boy is a 50 year old coffee shop. Nothing fancy. Don't look for any nouveau cuisine. (hit the link for pictures, details and customer comments). "Awful Good Food" is the slogan painted on the side of the building.
You can't get a latte. On the other hand, you can get a cinnamon roll instead of toast with your bacon and eggs.
This is a locals hangout. Last December 7, I sat at the counter and had breakfast with Danny Ramirez of "Danny's Custom Styling". Danny lived just 2 doors down from us when he opened his barber shop in 1960. Both he and my dad were WWII Vets raising young kids in the suburbs.
I said, "Happy Pearl Harbor Day Danny."
He told me that just after Pearl Harbor he'd gone with friends in Santa Barbara to enlist in the Navy. He served on a destroyer in the Pacific and that's where he learned to cut hair. Guys were lined up for haircuts from the ships barber so they could pass inspection. Danny set up shop with scissors so that his shipmates could get cleaned up in time for inspection.
We talked about my brothers and his kids and grand kids and then shook hands and went off to work.
Now I'm back home. And it's time to get back to work.
* * * * * *
Quote of the day:
"I have a lot of depth, a lot of layers."
Ashley Dupre - Eliot Spitzer Prostitute
A lot of layers? Priceless!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Thanksgiving - We Owe Thanks To So Many
Just a quick post this morning, I'll update later.
First things first, last night was quiet. The winds died down and the emergency officials began letting residents into the burn area late yesterday. One of our friends found that her home on Mountain Drive was completely destroyed. Located at the bottom of the canyon along a creek bank, there was no way for fire crews to save it.
>THANK YOU FIREFIGHTERS<
>THANK YOU POLICE OFFICERS, SHERIFF DEPUTIES, HIGHWAY PATROL and VOLUNTEERS<
THANKS TO OUR CIVIC LEADERS
Mayor Blum, County Supervisors - especially Salud Carbajal, SB City Council, State Assembly member Pedro Nava and Representative Lois Capps. Thanks for standing with us. Your work is only beginning.
Also a special note of thanks to everyone at Rincon Broadcasting in Santa Barbara for bringing Santa Barbara REAL RADIO that made a BIG difference. You were a crucial factor in protecting lives. That, folks, is what a broadcast license is for. Thank you all.
First things first, last night was quiet. The winds died down and the emergency officials began letting residents into the burn area late yesterday. One of our friends found that her home on Mountain Drive was completely destroyed. Located at the bottom of the canyon along a creek bank, there was no way for fire crews to save it.
>THANK YOU FIREFIGHTERS<
>THANK YOU POLICE OFFICERS, SHERIFF DEPUTIES, HIGHWAY PATROL and VOLUNTEERS<
THANKS TO OUR CIVIC LEADERS
Mayor Blum, County Supervisors - especially Salud Carbajal, SB City Council, State Assembly member Pedro Nava and Representative Lois Capps. Thanks for standing with us. Your work is only beginning.
Also a special note of thanks to everyone at Rincon Broadcasting in Santa Barbara for bringing Santa Barbara REAL RADIO that made a BIG difference. You were a crucial factor in protecting lives. That, folks, is what a broadcast license is for. Thank you all.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Santa Barbara Tea Fire - Night Terrors
I stood on the roof of our house at 11:30 last night and watched the western edge of the fire as it ran up the canyon toward Gibralter. I saw the top of Sycamore
canyon explode in towers of wind driven flame 100 feet high. At the same time I could see the glow of the fire on the eastern edge of the Riviera.
We are safe and sound this morning. The menacing orange rampage of last night is replaced by an ashen and edgy calm here this morning.
We're in shock. Like waking from a nightmare that continues to haunt you.
Last night at about 5:45 the fire started. In less than an hour it was tearing through the brush and homes were literally exploding. I know that when the stories are told we'll be hearing about people literally running out the door of their homes with the smoke and flames chasing them down the street. This has been an extremely agressive and fast moving fire.
No cause reported yet, but rumor and speculation?
One friend who lives near ground zero says the Tea House area is popular with people who like to enjoy the view at sunset...with perhaps a smoke of one kind or another.
The damage could be half a billion dollars.
That's a lot of dreams in ashes this morning.
UPDATE - Fire Map Link
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