“Hogwash”
here again; to make some corrections.
1. I
worked for the New York, New Haven & Hartford R.R. in 1942, which is 66
years ago, waiting to turn 18 and ship out again. (I had “shipped out” in 1941,
at the age of 16, before Pearl Harbor.)
2. The
Rick Lee dissertation on gambling was most interesting, although I was aware of
some of it. In 1943, while riding a camel around the Great Pyramid, the owner
saw something kicked up from the sand by the grunting beast and picked it up
and handed it to me. Two rough cubes with spots, dice!
A most
interesting man, he swore by Allah that they were at least 4,000 years old and
since I had hired the animal whatever he discovered belonged to me. (I had
actually hitch-hiked from Alexandria to Cairo, a most interesting journey,
especially when you get dropped off at a crossroad right out in the middle of
nowhere… but that’s another story and I am not very good at telling stories.)
I was
most appreciative that this skinny brown man in such dirty rags was so honest,
so I gave him two or four dinars, or piasters, whatever. I no longer remember
such currency details. Anyway, they were magical, and aboard ship I cleaned up
using those ancient bones, carved from camel bones most likely, and I felt as
if I were in touch with an ancient Pharaoh when I had them in my hands.
I think
it was in Iran when a long skinny dark brown arm reached through the porthole
and snatched them from my desk.
Four
thousand years of history, gone in a flash. I swore that from that day forth I
would never gamble again and would oppose it wherever I found that it
flourished, anywhere in the world. Even in California, and yes, even in the
Santa Ynez Valley.
3.
However, when the then Chairman or Chief, David Dominquez, would tell me over a
glass of wine, or a mudslide, at The Touch, about his trips east, and his plans
for a new effort to bring success to the Bingo games, I became spineless and
never mentioned the vow I had taken in Khorramshahr, Iran, on the Shat-al-Arab
river close to the cradle of civilization (and perhaps gambling) so many years
before.
4. I have
it on good authority that Vincent Armenta, the tribe’s senior officer, has a
large chess board in his office, in the shape of the Santa Ynez Valley, and
that he sits atop a stool and moves his pawns around, which represent property
acquisitions, but that no “white eyes” (as my brother was called when he was an
auditor for an Eskimo tribe in Alaska) is allowed to see it. As he fills it in,
all property between the sea (Lompoc) and the farthest reaches of Lake Cachuma
will be acquired and all of us “white eyes” will become lowly tenants. We will
slowly gamble (lose) all of this property back to the tribe, even though no
true (100%) Chumash exists today. But I guess that 49% is good enough.
5. Now, I
was raised a city boy, on the banks of the Hudson River, but when I saw that
long-haired Buttercup or whatever the name, even I knew that something was
wrong and I began to doubt Nancy Crawford-Hall’s credentials to speak up on
behalf of our local ranchers.
Hell, I
traveled Ohio and Indiana in the spring ( as a traveling salesman, 1949 –
55) and you see all sorts of interesting things going on at the farms along the
way, and a city boy soon learns that the number four and number one are
important when they are under such an animal with horns. “Hogwash,” I said,
talking to myself, “that lady is
not very observant.” And now she wants to describe Scotland to us? Heaven’s to
Betsy.” (Hogwash does not fit
here.)
6. Oh
yes, I was in Scotland too, in 1944, on the way to Murmansk. I didn’t observe
much scenery, but the ladies were delightful and I did not choose the ones who
slouched against the lampposts. You make choices in life, you see. Vincent
Armenta chooses property and Nancy Crawford- Hall’s assistant chooses the wrong
picture. Lordy, (no hogwash here either.) I thought that by third grade in
California they had taught the kids all they needed to know about such things.
Obviously someone flunked second or third grade!
7. Now,
Sir Rickety, permit me to say that it would be nice if the local dissension
were to simmer down, but facing reality, I don’t see it happening. The bullfrog
in the pond changes every now and then and it is better to be a large bullfrog
in a small pond than a small bullfrog in a big pond.
As I see
it, the current bullfrog in this pond is Vincent Armenta. When you’ve got
millions coming in every month, when you croak all the the smaller frogs jump.
8. I
caught some frogs and dug a frog pond when I was about 8 years old. The smaller
frogs kept disappearing until there was only the huge bullfrog left. Then it
dawned on me . . . frogs are carnivorous, and I’ve been cautious ever since.
As I may
have overstayed my welcome, I shall say goodnight.
It is 2
a.m. and time for beddie bye.
Howard “ Hogwash” Morseburg
To the
Publisher, Valley Journal
Regarding
what is native, or not;
Near the
end of your essay you say, “I think it is horribly arrogant and elitist to
believe that ‘native’ is any better than ‘non-native’ and to kill plants and
animals on that basis is a horrible distortion of who we are.”
The
difficulty many folks have is failing to see things in their proper
perspective. The average useful
lifespan of man is approximately 75 years. For many, all they know is encompassed in that span. Failing to reach intellectually beyond
that span, by taking advantage of the stored up knowledge available through
scientific inquiry and the written word, can distort one’s understanding of the
world around him.
Another
group, as you almost describe, are the “arrogant elitists” who have come to
believe they know better than the rest of us and are willing to force us to
abide by their “superior understanding” and their endless “solutions.” Dr. Thomas Sowell calls them the “morally
self- anointed.” These folks are
responsible for modern thinking about what is politically correct, native
versus non-native, being environmentally sensitive, recycling, global warming,
(now called climate change) carbon footprints, and other popular fads. Most of their propaganda reads like man
is not a part of nature, and is likely the cause of what they see as harmful to
the earth as they envision it.
The
proper perspective I referred to is that the earth is constantly evolving at
its own pace and has been doing so for approximately 4.5 billion years. When one does the math, comparing the
life span of man (75 years) to the lifespan of the planet earth (research
indicates that the sun is good for about another 5 billion years before it
consumes what remains of its hydrogen fuel, and that will end life on earth),
it works out that 9.5 billion years compared to 75 man years, is a ratio of one
second of “Mother Nature’s time” to about 4 years of mans life.
From
Mother Nature’s point of view:
• World
War II ended 16 seconds ago
• The
Declaration of Independence was signed 58 seconds ago
•
Columbus discovered America 2 minutes and 9 seconds ago
• Christ
was born 8 minutes and 22 seconds ago
So the
question about what is Native (or not) should be approached with some
caution. There is likely a hidden
political agenda in there somewhere.
Most likely, it is related to whether or not “Native Americans” have any
valid claim to their ancestral lands or water supplies that now are “owned” by
others. There is a movement, as a
result of the U.S. Government’s consistent and continuing concessions to claims
by Native American groups for rights and privileges, based upon their perceived
persecution in earlier times, that one might expect endless litigation
regarding native versus non-native rights and privileges to land and
water. The water rights thing is
already in the court system south of the Temecula area in California.
Our local
claimants ought to be required to provide the scientific evidence (via DNA)
that they are in fact related to “native Americans” who had prior claims to the
land and water we use today. Those prior claims need documentation beyond the
posturing of arrogant elitists and our government’s morally self-anointed
do-gooders. The water those
historic folks used was whatever flowed down the Santa Ynez river. Water wells and the lake weren’t there,
so they cannot be a part of any claim by early migratory, even transient,
(based upon Mother Nature’s perspective) inhabitants.
We need
to apply a historical perspective beyond our limited life spans to avoid
becoming embroiled in these ephemeral disputes.
Ed Hilgaertner, Solvang
Dear
Editor,
Well, I
guess the temptation to be politically correct was just too overwhelming for
our board of supervisors, so they declare June, my birthday month, to be the
official Gay and Lesbian Pride Month. How sweet. Perhaps down the road they will
also declare an official Heterosexual Month, then a Bisexual Month, then a
Transexual Month; perhaps we’ll add a Celibate Month and on and on.
Since
when has it become the role of any political body to become involved in the
sexual preferences of any of our citizens? Will we see Jewish or Catholic or
Protestant Month pop up before long? Or was it just too good a political stunt
to pass up? I suppose they would totally laugh off an official Create Strong
Families Month or a Protect Your Children Month. That would be just too silly.
It’s much more important to take up legislative time and tax money in a way
that gets the maximum in TV and other media coverage.
It has
been my impression throughout my adult life that our country has been generally
progressing down a path that resists defining differences and promotes
inclusiveness. Having been raised in a bi-racial household myself and having
had endless friends throughout my life who were from other races, religions and
sexual preferences, I have been quite proud of my country’s progress. Let’s not
let political grandstanding, no matter how well meant, bump us off that road.
As Americans, try to remember, we should have no religious, racial or sexual
divides!
Bud Stuart, Santa Barbara