Eugenio's Blog!

Me and Felipe at Stambaugh Farms, Huron County, Ohio. (recognition: D.D.)

At the end of Friday’s airing of Jeopardy!®, Ken Jennings has appeared thirty-eight consecutive times, accumulating $1,321,660. He broke the one day record Friday, earning $75,000 in one show. He will not appear for another six weeks, because the program is running some celebrity or bogus special.

Please join me in circling Monday, September 6 on your calendars. It’s Labor Day, so please check your local listings for air time. I really hope there’s not some stupid parade to cancel or postpone local airings.

People at work were trying to set up some sort of pool to estimate Ken’s [note that I decided to make his first name possessive in an attempt to dodge a potential possessive error] total winnings, but now since we won’t know until September 6 at the earliest, that is way past the pickle-picking season – half of the migrant staff will be gone. If you are interested in joining the Cult of Ken Jennings, please visit here.

This week was pretty busy with extra things going on. Wednesday was another Toledo Bar Association outing for summer clerks & new associates. We went to the Toledo Mudhens AAA baseball game. I guess it’s been ranked one of the best ballparks or teams, or something. According to the bag I received when I bought my cap, the Mudhens are “The Most Popular Team in Minor League Baseball”™. I know I am key-happy to recognize ® & ©, but the logo is really trademarked. Honest.

The game was great . . . except that the Mudhens played the Syracuse Chiefs or Skychiefs or something. Fortunately, there was no native mascot.

As you know, I e-mailed the Google Ads people that one Thursday night, and I e-mailed them again over that weekend in regards to the link that advertised shipping foreign labor. The last I heard, my e-mails were being forwarded to Google's "team of specailists for further investigation." Visiting other people’s blogs, however, I noticed that the advertisements are generated by the writing in the blog. A’s blog, for example, has coffee advertisements all the time, and what does A write about? – coffee. Of course my advertisements are going to be race-generated! Thus, in an attempt to ensure race-based wage slavery advertisements are never again shown on a website maintained by me, I have decided to avoid discussing all issues connected with race & ethnicity.

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

Okay, enough of that.

Anyway, things at work are smooth. That same crew-leader who beat up a worker & his wife has struck again: this time he beat a worker up with a gun. Unfortunately, the worker has fled for fear of another strike, and all proof of the incident left with him. I am sure the crew-leader threatened an immigration call if the worker ever showed up again. Oh, justice.

S, a fellow law clerk, hosted a summer ice cream social Saturday afternoon, which continued into the night. All of the ice cream contained organic ingredients, and it was beyond delicious. What would an outing be without illegally gambling in Euchre & this new dice game I learned, I think called “Roll or Bust,” or something. It was a sure sign that the summer was coming to an end, and that classes will again be upon us soon enough.

Avid readers of my blog will recall my nomination for the song of the summer, Kevin Lyttle’s "Turn Me On". Well, it looks like Fremont, Ohio has finally caught on to the national trend, as I have heard it a few times in the car now. Of course, the local DJ’s are saying, “And brand new off his recent album . . . Kevin Lyttle . . . here FIRST on 92.5 FM, your hit station serving Ottawa, Seneca, and Sandusky Counties!” With such a grasp on national culture, I have recommended to the Fremont City Board Council that the city change its motto from “Fremont, Ohio: Where Great People Live” to “Fremont, Ohio: Only Three Weeks behind the Rest of the Nation.” Then again, “Fremont, Ohio: If you don’t have cable TV, God Have Mercy” also has a nice twist.

I headed over to Freddy’s Laundromat again, and I think it is turning into my favorite place in Ohio – the people are incredibly nice, and every time I go, I engage in the best conversations. This week, I met two men in their 60s, one originally from Kentucky, and one originally from Fremont, but lives in North Carolina. He is in Ohio to bury some family members. Of course, we talked about politics, and their discontent with the Bush Administration. Although they said they identify as Republicans, they are incredibly displeased with the handling of the War in Iraq, and they hope for Kerry to win. Some harsh words were said in regards to how the government treats veterans of the armed services. They vowed that serving in the armed forces is a great way to help alleviate modern racism and prejudice, claiming it worked for them. There still may be hope.

A brief clip from Johnny Dakota's house:

Random Girl: Your arms are so firm.

Screech: That's my elbow -- I work out.

I couldn't fall asleep without acting . . . I wrote a brief [yet hopefully powerful] e-mail to adsbygoogle@google.com. Now, I can rest.

P.S. I do not want to hear any "cause de jour" jokes about this incident. This is serious!

Advertisment, dated 1823.

Letter, dated 2002.

Unfortunately, I must start this posting with a sincere & heartfelt apology.  This is serious, folks. 
 
Depending on your time visiting this blog, the ads above provided by Google® may have changed.  I have no control over the types of advertisements above.  
 
At the time of this posting, the link to the right was entitled “Easily hire Mexicans.”  This weekend, once I have more time to formulate my thoughts, I am seriously writing a letter to Google® & ask that the specified link never be placed on my blog again.  I am ashamed. 
 
Killing the cat, I clicked on the link.  In case the link is gone when you read this, it sent me to http://www.legal-diligent-mexican-workers.com/.  Amazing, I know. 
 
To forewarn you, I hurled twice reading through the blatantly racist information.  It is repulsive.  You simply have to read it yourself to get the full effect. 
 
The most disgusting part of the website was the “testimonial” from the Green Valley Country Club in Pennsylvania, found here.
 
Maybe it’s the secondary-education teacher in me, but (you, [understood]) please compare and contrast the Green Valley Country Club letter (dated 2002) with a slave auction advertisement I have posted above (dated 1823).  Discuss the social and economic relationships between the two pieces.  * For accelerated students, analyze the gimmicks presented in the 2002 letter.  More importantly, which reporter from FOXNews does this letter sound most like?  Explain your answer.  If you are unable to clearly view the 1823 primary source, please raise your hand, eeerr, or click here. 
 
“Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains or slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God!”  Patrick Henry, 1736-1799. 
 

Dallas cast members, 1978-1991

First, the administrative stuff.

I know, I know, I haven’t written in a while. I thought about quitting this whole blogging experience, but that would validate A’s prophesy prior to ripeness. I mustn’t do that.

I have received an e-mail from rock-star DD alleging copyright violations in a previous posting. After tearing that a strong executive in corporate America would waste her time reading this schlop, I decided to recognize her strong contributions to my well-being – she has taught me about wine differences, about playing the corporate game, and about that popular 60s T.V. show . . . Dallas. Hey, if it was on before the Full House phenomenon, it all blends together in the 60s.

So let’s see . . . work has been busy with clients, investigations, and meetings. There are two clients who occupy a great portion of my time. Since the case is pending, I can’t elaborate too much, but their struggle cannot go untold. I’ll describe their scenario in a play, and substitute British English for Latin American Spanish:

Narrator: First, let us begin with some background information. The scene is set in London County, Ohio on a hot June day around 11 AM. A ‘crew-leader’ is a person hired by the farm-owner to supervise the farm-workers. A crew-leader is always bilingual so he (it’s always been a male in my experience) can speak with the farm-owner and farm-workers. He is usually of Mexican ancestry who has Permanent Residency Status in the United States. Sometimes, the crew-leaders are white.

Crew-leader: Top of the morning, Worker! My, it must be 95 degrees out here! Good heavens!

Worker: Yes, I’m quite aware of that, sir. I’ve been out here since the blessed sun awoke me this fine morning.

Crew-leader: Listen, you bastard – I don’t care if it’s 500 degrees out here. You must hoe, trim, and pick until you can’t hoe, trim, and pick no more! For what reason am I paying you three coins an hour?!

Worker: Sir, I have already picked five bushels of tomatoes and three of pickles – I am working as fast as I can.

Crew-leader: You slug! Work faster, or it’s your arse that will meet my boot!

Worker: Yes, sir . . . as you wish. [Worker continues to work diligently].

Crew-leader: Do you bite your thumb at me, you peasant?!

Worker: No, sir, I didn’t. Honest. Aside: I really am a good worker. I want only peace.

Crew-leader: We’ll see about that tonight, Abraham.

Narrator: Later that evening, the Crew-leader barges into the house of the worker.

Crew-leader: [punching the worker in his own kitchen, and pushing him into a nearby clothes dresser] You stupid, poverty-stricken serpent!

[The worker falls to the floor, while the Crew-leader proceeds to grab the worker’s hair and bangs it on the floor five or six times].

[The wife of the worker tries to protect her husband, but she too, is thrown violently within her own house].

Narrator: The Crew-leader leaves, leaving both the worker and his wife bleeding and jobless. Since the workers do not possess valid government-issued documents, they fear to report the incident to the police authorities and fear to receive necessary medical attention.

[Exeunt.]

Well, there you have it – the fair and balanced version of what happened. Pretty interesting, eh?

Completely unrelated, this week was also another Toledo Bar Association gathering – this one was hosted by U.S. District Court Judge James G. Carr and his wife.

I google-searched his name before heading over to the event, just so I knew his background and interests. The first few hits were his biography (Harvard Law degree . . . yada yada yada). But then I came upon this page that said Judge Carr is a bigot and a racist, especially towards ‘Hispanics.’ Wonderful, right?

Wonderful. Right. There were about seven or so tables set up in their backyard, and Judge Carr and his wife decided to sit with me and five other clerks during dinner. The evening turned out great – Judge Carr has some connections with Chicago (he taught at DePaul for a while and he still has some people in Evanston), so we talked about North Side / South Side differences, the Taste, and Chicago Public Schools (his wife was a teacher for CPS in the 1960s, and remembers vividly the week of Dr. King’s assassination). After dinner, we headed out to this bar on the West Side of Toledo – we’re not even lawyers yet, and we spend all of our time either in the office or at the bar.

We have great futures ahead, I know.

I headed to the Taste of Chicago accompanied by 1.2 million Saturday (07/03) night for the annual fireworks display off Lake Michigan. If you remember hearing about the fatal shooting that took place Saturday night, don’t worry – I was a block away. The shooting happened around 9:30 Post Meridiem, but there was a scare around 8:30, in which the two events may be related.

Sarah and I were on the east side of Columbus Drive, around 600 South. Sarah was eating her Chicago-styled pizza slice, and all of the sudden we see these people recklessly running towards Grant Park. Sarah and I just look at each other, and are like “uhhhh, okay. What’s going on?” I couldn’t move much – I had just finished eating African-styled goat meat with sautéed plantains.

It didn’t strike us that our lives were in immediate danger until we saw mothers hastily running through waist-high bushes with their strollers first, and yes, there were babies in the strollers. Someone said there was a gang fight and a member pulled out a gun. Of course, as soon as we heard this, the logical people started walking towards Grant Park away from the Taste. A group of suburban white teenagers in their J. Crew® tops, New Balance® shoes, and Banana Republic® Cargo shorts ran into the Taste, trying to act all ghetto. They threw up their hands and started speaking with a southern-language twist, purposefully un-annunciating their Rs, elongating their As, and omitting (or improperly using) state-of-being verbs.

I found the song of the summer this past weekend. I heard it every time I was in the car in Chicago, but I never heard it in Ohio – it’s “Turn Me On,” [the remix, of course] by Kevin Little featuring Sean Paul. Five stars.

“That’s why I love it. I know all the words.” Michelle Tanner.