Since my two whole fans have been endlessly harassing me to entertain them for the past week, all RIGHT, already! I’m here!

It’s been a little stressful in these parts the past couple weeks, what with our parent company on the brink of financial disaster (thanks again, Conrad—you filthy nutsack), waiting for the courts to release my paychecks and the whole thinking about what my next move should be thing and all, and there really just hasn’t been a lot to say that hasn’t involved me being in a semi-state of panic. I’m marginally better this week, although the thought that I might have to go back into an office setting makes me want to choke on my vomit like nothing has in quite awhile. The nice thing, though, has been the support of friends: A guy with whom I went to high school and who was on the periphery of my college crowd and his wife, for example, totally offered to pay for me to go to this benefit just because they thought I might need the distraction. I haven’t talked to this cat in 15 years, maybe? And I didn’t know him well in high school, either, but here they were, ready to take me out. I don’t even know what to do with that kind of kindness, you know? And Girlie or wad—Jesus. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

It hasn’t been an entire suckfest all month, though—in fact, some parts have been downright entertaining, such as those that involved our new favorite cover band, The Unit. It’s not often, after all, that you get to see the lead singer’s ass on a regular basis. It also may or may not be why we’ve taken to calling him Cheeks. 

Evidently, I’ve been doing my job right this week, because damn people all butt-hurt and telling me how to do my damn job. Jesus. Look, lady, I didn’t stay for “the whole meeting” because my deadline is 9 p.m., and it takes me a half-hour or so to write up a story. Therefore, since I left at 8:45, surely you can see the dilemma, right? As for how I cover a story and what I end up writing about it, my job is to provide readers with the newest information humanly possible, and I hate to tell you this, but the people in the crowd were NOT SAYING ANYTHING NEW. I know you think they were, but between the nutjob who had his son refigure the study numbers, the Rush-wannabe wingnut accusing the board of entertaining real estate offers and HIS mother getting up and talking about how her father was the first union president, really, they weren’t. In fact, the only parent who offered anything remotely reasonable was the woman who asked what improvements would be made with the money that would be saved. And no, no one on EITHER SIDE gave any viable solutions, either, so tell you what: When the parents CAN say anything I haven’t heard ad nauseum since November, I’ll stop acting like I have better things to do. ‘k?

THAT one wasn’t even the best one, either. Behold the atrocity I got over the weekend; my comments are obviously italicized. [WARNING: It’s SUPER long.]

Could my cousin PLEASE stop blowing up my phone about the story I’m doing!?? I GOT IT! Jeez.

More on my birthday tomfoolery later—just had to get that out.

Well, I WAS in a decent frame of mind until I logged onto Facebook (where I spend another fairly big chunk of time) and found one of my pals/colleagues posted THIS bit of horseshit: Lookit.

When it comes to the paper, I don’t even know where they think they can cut us anymore, but I can tell you one of myriad ways in which they monumentally fucked it up: Outsourcing our circ to our MAIN COMPETITION. From what I understand, the TRIB is the one that not only prints us but handles our delivery. So, if the Trib’s going to handle our circ, do you REALLY think it’s going to give a Goddamn about what delivery problems the Sun-Times News Group’s having over its own issues!?? Think about that. Yeah, I’ve heard our upper brass goes to Cyrus et al all the time, and Cyrus et al talks about how they’re going to “present these issues sternly” when they re-up the contract or whatever, but again I ask you: With the newspaper industry and all its issues these days, do you really think the Trib cares? Was there a clause in the contract stipulating that as long as the Trib doesn’t ACTIVELY pursue STNG’s subscribers, instead just not doing anything and letting the subscribers get pissed off enough that they cancel, it’s cool? I mean, what!?? It’s stunning to me that these people are letting us die on the vine. And sure, more cuts sort of means more for me, but I don’t WANT more at the expense of other, much better reporters. Never have.

And now with this pissing in my oatmeal, I have to pick up MOTHER in full-on jerk mode to get a new winter coat after she had to sleep on the couch last night because her landlord didn’t fix the roof properly, and it was banging against the side of her crib all night. (whimper)

Ever eat so much meat that you’re just, like, “GUH, that’s a little gross”? I know that kinda sounds like heresy, but man. I need to get thee to the farm stand stat.

So yeah, the tornado. First off, a big sloppy mashfest with tongue to the peeps who checked to make sure I wasn’t dead—I sure wished I were at times, what with the no power and the out-of-control mother and looking like I smelled for the better part of a week (well, Ok, I didn’t REALLY wish for death, but shit’s hard when all you can do is take a washrag to your bits without freezing them off), but you know, that which does not kill us makes us stronger, except for groin injuries, etc. Since I’ve told the story to, like, a million people, I’ll keep it short: I was sitting here wrapping up my story for the night when Mother calls: “The siren’s going off! What should I do!??” I, not hearing the siren, told her I didn’t hear it and that I would call her back in five minutes when I finished my story. Soon as I hung up, what do you know, I hear the faint roar of the siren across town. Huh, I thought, so I called the desk and said, “Hey, my ma just called and said the siren was going off. Is something coming?” Night Desk Chief and buddy JG said, “Well, let’s take a look ... tornado warning for (town four miles away) ... (next town over) ... (MY TOWNOMFG) ... yeah, something’s coming.” “Oh, wow,” I said. “Well, I just sent so I guess I shou—vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvt!”

(That was ‘hood’s power going out.)

True to form, the little guy headed for the hills, so I knew there was no wrangling him, but I couldn’t find Rube, so I just left the back door open because any time the door’s open, he thinks it’s a big party and goes running for the hallway. I made my way down the back stairs to the basement, which was pitch black, and thought “Hell NAW am I going down there alone without a light apparatus,” so I sat on the steps and watched what I could from the backdoor window. As you can imagine, it was quite a storm—constant, violent lightning and the wind whipping the trees all around for a good 10, 15 minutes until all of a sudden, the wind. just. stopped. Well, I thought to myself, that’s got to be the tornado, except I didn’t hear the giant locomotive-like roar you’re supposed to hear with twisters, so I stood there trying to see if the big cat made it downstairs and waiting to get wiped off the face of the earth. About a minute later, my downstairs neighbor called out to see if I was around, and I headed up to her crib because she had beer and lit candles.

After the first beer, I call Mother back, and her machine didn’t pick up so I knew her power was down and that I’d better get over there to make sure she hadn’t gotten wiped off the face of the planet (also: to assess her mental state to see what kind week I was in for). It had stopped pouring, so it was safe in that respect even though there were no streetlights for miles. First thing I noticed as I zipped through the shortcut I usually take, aside from the water puddled in the potholes that swallow small children, was an overturned semi cab and roofing shingles scattered about. Then I looked over to my left, saw a lit-up police car in front of the subdivision nestled behind the crib. Got to Mother’s—her power was out and she was all twitchy, of course, but no worse for the wear—then went back out to the subdivision. (You knew that was coming.) Got out of the car and walked through the blockade to be greeted with the first house that had its front sheared off. Started reporting straightaway, the end.

Yeah, that wasn’t really a short story, was it? Alas, they never are where I’m concerned. And I ain’t even STARTED on the nightmare that fixing my shower became. THAT was even worse than not having power (but not as bad as not having cable).

Feh. These are the ones Scott took while up there, including this one:


(©2008 Scott M. Bort, all rights reserved)

That’s what I was doing, y’all.

Anyway, the shots are gorgeous, so go check ‘em out.

By now, many of you may or may not know what I did Friday morning. If not, lemme show you it in pictures:


My chariot awaited. You’ll notice in subsequent pics that
my plane is the only USAF plane, while the others are Navy.
That’s because, according to my pilot, Brian “Digger” McCann,
the plane’s owner was Air Force and flat-out refused to paint
“Navy" on the plane, even if the colors are in fact Navy.


My colleague and pal Scott Bort, getting the rundown
from his pilot, John “Ripper” Rippinger. The flotation device
is but one thing you get harnessed into on one of these flights.


Digger gets into his parachute and straps in for the ride.


Heading toward my deaththe runway


Aw yeah, there’s no turning back now.


This here’s the control panel in my part of the cockpit.
Didn’t need to know anything about it and didn’t want
to know, as it’s better that way for all involved.


Aaaaaaaand we’re up!


Ripper and Bort.


See those planes waaaaay over there? Yeah, we had
to catch up to them. There was speeding involved.


We caught up, natch, and here we are in formation. See?
It really is further apart than it looks from the ground.


Now it’s time to head over the lake, where Digger says
the ride is smoother. We’ll see about that.


Six planes up in (Lima Lima) formation. Over the lake.


Coming off the lake.


Back in formation off the lake. I know I’ve got a lot
of these shots, but I was fascinated by how the planes
looked like marionettes.


As I headed back to the airport for my second assignment
of the day, there were these ginormous billowy clouds
that would’ve been gorgeous to fly through. When
WE were up in the air, we got this. Not quite as exciting.


“If you’re gonna spew, spew into this!”


Back on land and Thunderbirds in the hizzzouse, y’all!


This is what happens when you try to convince people who’re
flight-challenged that there are going to be loop-de-loops
and spiraling dips. Right, Bort!??


That’s right—he had to pose with his barf
bag. And he would’ve made me do it if I’d
have tossed, so don’t be all, “Awww, poor
Scott.” It’s a hazard of the job.


The master and me, no worse for the wear. And no barf
bag.

This is not to say, however, that the ride was all smooth sailing for me, either; until you’re up there, you really have no idea how unbelievably hot it gets, and if you’re not properly hydrated (like I’m not most of the time), it’s going to hurt, and I spent the last five or so minutes of the flight concentrating on my breathing so I wouldn’t hyperventilate. And I now also understand the appeal of sticking your head out the window like a dog while driving—I’ve never been so happy to open a window as when Digger told me I could reopen the chamber.

So yeah, it’s an extremely cool thing to do if you ever have the chance to do it, no question, and the Limas couldn’t be a better bunch of guys to fly with. You won’t see ME doing it again—I thought doing something like this would cure my fear of moving heights, but no such luck—but I’m thrilled and grateful I had the chance to do it this once.

Here’s the conversation I just had with the night editor about my BIG. F’IN. STORY:

But right now, I’m waiting for Girlie and Co. to pick me up for a night of drinking and merriment with Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers, so y’all will just have to wait (or figure it out if you’re in the NWI).

No, I have NOT been asked to cover his glorious, uber-hotness. At least, not yet. But I’m not above begging ...

I was going to tell y’all about having to cover a live rendition of The Last Supper tonight and how their communion crackers were the size of Chiclets, but after talking to the performers and seeing how earnest they are, can’t bring myself to be snide about it. Hell, I even refrained from imbibing the shot glass of “wine” after passing on the Chiclet, and I was tempted!

to anyone who may have received communique(CQ?) of any kind from me last night. Why I thought it was a good idea to down a pitcher of beer BY MYSELF probably correlates with the ugly, self-indulgent mood I’ve been in the past couple weeks, but I tell you what: My mood has improved dramatically since. And I wasn’t even as hungover as I was expecting!

Also, muy thanks to Paul for going to the meeting I was supposed to go to, because I very likely would’ve hemorrhaged had I been:

HIGHLAND—A Highland Police Commission member accused by Town Council members of violating his oath of office will not continue to serve on that board.

With Councilman Mark Herak absent from the meeting, the other four members unanimously voted to oust John Koval from his position on the Police Commission.

Following the vote, public comments were permitted. Former Councilman Joseph Wszolek of Highland read a prepared statement in opposition to the action taken against Koval.

Wszolek said Koval’s behavior was consistent with the recently adopted Code of Ethics for Highland officials in that he took the responsibility to expose corrupt behavior and took action to support the public’s right to know.

Attorney Joe Hero, who represents Koval, was not allowed to speak.

Koval’s reprimand stems from a letter to the editor he wrote before the November election countering information in Highland First Coalition literature.

The brochure said the previous Town Council trimmed $311,633 from the Police Department’s budget, which in turn would reduce police patroling capabilities by 19 percent.

The Police Department’s net operating budget for 2007 was cut, said Highland Clerk-Treasurer Michael Griffin. But most of that money was made up through two other funds on which the department relies.

In Koval’s letter, dated Oct. 31, 2007, he said former Republican and current Highland First Councilman Mark Herak “concocted a fairy tale.”

“I find it morally offensive for (Herak) to use scare tactics and prey upon our citizens’ fears regarding their safety for the sole purpose of trying to maintain power,” he wrote.

In January, the Police Commission’s four other members—James DeGraaf, Chairman James Turoci, Patty VanTil and Danny Stombaugh—sent a letter to the council requesting that Koval be removed from the commission because by identifying himself as a police commissioner he was allowing politics to influence the Police Department and Commission. The council turned to Town Attorney Rhett Tauber for an opinion.

In a letter dated Jan. 8, Tauber said Koval’s actions weren’t a violation.

Because if someone at the paper would’ve told me about this little gem:

Phony ballot gets man probation

Post-Tribune staff report

Suspended Lake County police officer Ponciano Herrera admitted he submitted a phony ballot in the May 2003 East Chicago primary election.

Herrera, 42, of East Chicago, pleaded guilty to procuring or submitting a false, fictitious or fraudulent ballot, a felony charge.

Lake Superior Court Judge Thomas Stefaniak Jr., placed Herrera on probation for 90 days and entered the conviction as a misdemeanor, as called for in the plea agreement negotiated on behalf of Indiana Attorney General Steve Carter’s office and Herrera’s lawyers.

The misdemeanor conviction would allow Herrera to return to the police force.

Four counts of perjury and four counts of vote fraud were dismissed in exchange for Herrera’s admission of guilt.

Herrera, an East Chicago native who served in the U.S. Air Force and returned to his hometown and joined the Lake County police 15 years ago, became emotional when addressing the judge. “I have always tried to be a servant to the community,” Herrera said, “but I am only human.’’ After being suspended without pay, Herrera said he took a job with the Gary street department.

Stefaniak heard from Antonio Barreda, an officer in the Union Benefica Mexicana, a civic and social organization in East Chicago, who said Herrera not only has been a committed and involved member of the group but also pitched in to help in the hurricane recovery efforts in New Orleans.

Family members of Nick Idalski, a soldier killed in Iraq in 2005, said Herrera arranged for a police escort for Idalski’s body and handled many details for the family.

Herrera was one of dozens of people charged with vote fraud in the 2003 East Chicago primary election, which was set aside by the Indiana Supreme Court.

Charges of domestic battery during a May incident have been dropped against a Lake County Sheriff’s officer.

Officer Ponciano Herrera of East Chicago, was named in a complaint filed by the Lake County Sheriff’s Police on behalf of Darcel Espinoza of Merrillville. But according to an investigation conducted by the county police, the claims were baseless, according to Lake County Police Chief Gary Martin.

“We conducted a thorough investigation and the complaint was found to be unsubstantiated,” Martin said.

According to an incident report obtained by the Post-Tribune, Herrera, who is the father of Espinoza’s child, showed up at Espinoza’s home, let himself in and asked to see their daughter. Espinoza said she declined because Herrera smelled strongly of alcoholic beverages.

“(The) complainant stated that she then told her daughter to lock herself in the bedroom,” the report states. “Complainant advised that Mr. Herrera then threw a plastic water bottle at her which struck her in the head.”

The report said Herrera then opened the door as if to leave, at which time Espinoza tried to shut the door and lock it behind him. But Herrera pushed the door back forcefully, slamming Espinoza between it and the wall. Afterward, he dragged Espinoza by her wrists into the dining room area, causing rug burns on her knees, and dug his fingers into her neck.

Sgt. William Paterson and Officer Brian Marsh, who responded to the call, observed abrasions on Espinoza’s back and knees, swelling on her forehead above the right eye and a bruise on her left wrist and thumb. They took pictures of these injuries along with damage done to the wall where Espinoza got caught by the door and a typewriter that Herrera allegedly threw off the balcony, the report states.

The report also says that Cmdr. Dale Bock advised Paterson and Marsh to file the domestic battery charges.

But when Espinoza was interviewed by police shortly after, her stories were different, Martin said.

“She had explanations for her injuries,” he said, adding that he felt confident Espinoza didn’t recant her report out of fear of Herrera. “(Paterson and Marsh) did exactly what they were supposed to do, but once the investigators took her statement, it was found that the incident didn’t happen.”

Espinoza didn’t return several calls for comment.

Herrera, who ran for an East Chicago council seat, said he’s relieved Espinoza changed her story. “I’m a law enforcement officer and this is a delicate situation,” Herrera said. “I’m fortunate that she told the truth to the investigator.”

Law enforcement officers may file charges in a domestic battery case based on observations at the scene or outside witness testimony, regardless of whether the victim presses charges, said Lake County Prosecutor Bernard Carter. But Carter added that unless the police give the prosecutor charges, his office can’t investigate.

Gotta say, I’m a little surprised the GCSC released it, unless of course the paper FOIA’ed the shit out of them. And you’d think that if she was in such a gorgeous locale, her food choices would be a little less bouzhie. Oh wait, I’ll bet she was trying to save the district money, because Ms. Ledbetter is nothing if not conscientious of what she spends:

School official’s Hawaii trip expenses detailed

By Sharlonda L. Waterhouse
Post-Tribune staff writer

GARY—The Visa bill for Gary School Board member Andrea Ledbetter’s recent trip to Hawaii was mailed to the district last week, with a total due of $2,501—$1,000 more than she said her trip cost.

It could be among the last credit card statements paid by the School Board, which is reconsidering its credit card policy.

First Financial Bank records turned over by the school district show Ledbetter spent $1,264 to stay at the Waikiki Beach Resort Hotel operated by Marriott, for the Jan. 5-8 Hawaii International Conference on Education.

While there, she dined at Lulu’s Surf Club Waikiki for $36.49, Cheesecake Honolulu for $61.81, a Honolulu Red Lobster for $41.65 and Jamba Juice Makai for $4.97.

She also made a purchase at ABC Stores in Honolulu for $19.65.

Her USA Airways plane ticket cost the district $600 plus $5 for online registration. Ledbetter also spent an additional $36.49 at O’Hare airport on the day of take-off, records show.

No paperwork or documents to support the business nature of the trip have been submitted to the accounting office, notations on district records show.

A history of trips

A look back at Ledbetter’s expenses over the past year show more than $5,000 to other trips in Las Vegas; San Francisco; and Orlando, Fla.

For example, the January 2007 bill for Ledbetter’s credit card included two $236 airline tickets—one for Ledbetter and one for a J. Woodson. Her husband is James Woodson.

The two charged $843 to stay at the Rosen Hotel & Resorts in Orlando in November 2006.

The district requested reimbursement for Woodson’s ticket but did not receive it.

In April 2007, records show Ledbetter spent $1,500 on restaurants, cabs and a hotel in San Francisco.

In November 2007, Ledbetter spent $1,373 on a trip to Las Vegas, which included a room and meals at the Bellagio, as well as $45 dinners at a steakhouse and a $74 dinner at Cheesecake Las Vegas.

No receipts or paperwork was turned in for that trip either.

‘It’s embarrassing’

Gary School Board president Nellie Moore and vice president Michael Scott refused district credit cards.

Moore said it’s a vow she made when she campaigned, and she has stuck to it.

School Board member Darren Washington, head of the policy committee, said the board must take steps to ensure that’s the routine for everyone. Washington is drafting a policy that would discontinue the use of individual credit cards by board members. Washington said when news of members spending thousands in luxury locations reach legislators across the state, it’s hard to make the case to the General Assembly that the district needs more money.

“It’s embarrassing,” Washington said. “It sends the message that we’re just going out and doing anything at taxpayers’ expense no matter how much it may cost. That’s a disrespect for other people’s money.”

Drop the cards

Washington uses a personal card and seeks reimbursement.

Moore said board members are elected on the assumption that they will do what’s good for students and the district and don’t need censoring by peers.

Moore said she did not feel it was necessary to require public announcements of board trips.

“I don’t see the benefit of that. I do think as a board we should look very carefully at conferences that benefit our district and have some order in which board members attend. Some conferences are very beneficial.”

Contact Sharlonda L. Waterhouse at 648-3085 or

--------------------

Hawaiian trip


Airfare $600
Conference $440
Honolulu beach hotel $1,260

Total $2,500

Four or five years after the blogging boom, the paper is now allowing its more popular beat writers to have blogs. And who are writers asking for advice? That would be ME. 


whoo boy

I have my own ideas, of course, but what do y’all think makes a good blog?