Activists Dangle From Oregon Bridge for 2nd Day to Protest Arctic Drilling

Activists Dangle From Oregon Bridge for 2nd Day to Protest Arctic Drilling

By CHRISTINE HAUSER

New York Times, July 30, 2015

Nehttp://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/31/us/greenpeace-activists-dangle-from-oregon-bridge-for-2nd-day-to-protest-arctic-drilling.html?

   

Activists protesting Shell’s Arctic aspirations dangled from the St. Johns Bridge in Portland, Ore., on Wednesday.                    

Activists who have spent more than 24 hours dangling from an Oregon bridge to protest Shell’s plans to drill in the Arctic vowed to sustain their human barricade, after they joined kayakers in the water below to block an icebreaking ship from leaving Portland.

Some of the 13 activists from Greenpeace are providing live updates from their swaying bivouacs beneath the St. Johns Bridge, where they unfurled banners and stayed roped together to form a blockade as helpers on the bridge lowered supplies in sacks.   

According to the Greenpeace blog, the icebreaker Fennica leased by Shell was prevented on Wednesday from joining the rest of the drilling fleet in the Arctic. Unless it does so, the company will be unable to proceed with drilling in the Chukchi Sea. The vessel is carrying a piece of equipment that is used to cap an oil well in the event of a blowout.

A Shell spokesman, Curtis Smith, told The Associated Press: “As for the activities of the day, we respect the choice that anyone might make to protest based on Shell’s Arctic aspirations; we just ask that they do so safely and within the boundaries of the law.    

On Thursday morning, the icebreaker started moving toward the bridge, with Coast Guard vessels nearby, and then retreated. The activists cleared out of the way for a barge, unrelated to the protest, to pass through.

The protest against Shell’s Arctic drilling plans in Portland follows another in Washington State, where protesters, some in kayaks, helped muster public pressure to seek a delay of the mooring of Shell’s rigs.

It is not clear how long the activists can sustain their midair protest site over the Willamette River. Kayakers have been working in shifts, Daphne Wysham, a member of the group, told The Oregonian.

The executive director of Greenpeace USA, Annie Leonard, said in an interview at the start of the protest that the bridge danglers and the kayakers were a “line of defense.”

“And these activists, in the air and on water, are right now the last thing that stands between Shell Oil and its absolutely pathological plans to drill for oil in the Arctic this summer,” she said in an interview with Democracy Now!

          Activists in Oregon Suspend Themselves from Bridge to Block Arctic-Bound Oil Ship Video by Democracy Now!

A spokesman for the local sheriff’s office, Lt. Steve Alexander, said on Wednesday in The Oregonian that the authorities were there in case anyone fell from the bridge and to keep the river navigable.

Videos posted by Greenpeace USA show sacks of supplies being lowered to the dangling activists.

On a Reddit forum, the activists described some of the conditions, such as how they prepared for the heat of 100 degrees Fahrenheit: with long-sleeve shirts, sunscreen, shade and water. They are also posting images and updates on Twitter from the protest via #ShellNo of the view from their suspended sites.        

Daniel Patrick Welch Exclusive interview with REN TV

Published on Jun 1, 2014

Exclusive interview with Daniel Patrick Welch regarding
US foreign policy, CIA intrigue in Latin America, as well as the ramifications for current policy in Ukraine, Syria and Venezuela

 



​
​ 

GREEK SURRENDER. . . Deutschland Über Alles?

GREEK SURRENDER. . .  Deutschland Über Alles?

 

The Denouement

For many decades, the view was widespread on the left that there was a distinct European variety of capitalism which could be positively contrasted with the Anglo-American more ‘free market’ variety. The labour movements of northern Europe were usually seen as being the decisive force behind greater state economic involvement, more capitalist cooperation with unions, and more egalitarian social welfare and labour market regimes. The development of the European Union added a further attractive dimension to this, especially for internationalists. It was considered retrograde to want to stay out, let alone get out, of the European ‘project’ at each phase of its development, with many seeing participation in its institutions as the decisive terrain for the left's engagement.

The hyper-austerity policies European states have pursued since 2009, contributing to the powerfully lingering effects of the first great global capitalist crisis of the 21st century, already shattered a good deal of the left's illusions about Europe. The denouement of the Syriza strategy in Greece appears to have written finis to it. More

 

Understanding the Defeat Means Preparing a Victory
[T]he relation of forces within Europe... can at the moment only produce defeats.

The blackmailing of Greece by the creditors leaves open two paths, both of which would be defeats. This is unavoidable. First, Grexit: It means: ‘We'll take from you the possibility of carrying out Europe's class conflict within European political space. If you want to keep fighting, then fight for your survival at home and let the world watch the hopelessness of your struggle. If you want to keep on fighting in the name of your population, then your population is going to suffer the consequences.’ A Grexit makes the problem of inner-European politics into one of developmental and humanitarian aid. It isolates the political conflict in Europe, limiting it to Greek territory. More

 

The Real Plan B: The New Greek Marathon

In the face of being excluded from desperately needed funds and the threat of being kicked out of the European Union, the Greek parliament has now voted to accept the Troika memorandum. The Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras acknowledged – unlike social democrats choosing to implement neoliberalism as part of their ‘modernization‘ – that this was ‘a bad deal’ forced on the Greeks. Syriza's MPs were divided although three quarters of them followed Tsipras and voted yes. Outside in Syntagma Square thousands of angry demonstrators gathered and then marched through downtown Athens, this time the ‘NO’ being reserved for rejecting the memorandum. There is a strong current of dissent in the Syriza party Central Committee, which has yet to meet. Yet there is also a general sense we get from party members and supporters at all levels we have talked with here that the government should be supported and continue in office.

In the face of these divisions and frustrations, what if anything might be done to revive and continue Syriza's struggle against neoliberalism? And since neoliberalism is what capitalism is today – there is no other kind – what can be done to lay the basis for ending capitalism? This is not just a question for Greeks, though crucial aspects of this dilemma are of course specific to Greece, but for how the left everywhere thinks about and responds to the challenges of coming to power in a hostile environment to try to protect people from the worst depredations of neoliberalism, and tries to embark on ‘really-existing transitions’ to a more egalitarian, solidaristic, substantively more democratic world. More
 

The Euro-Summit ‘Agreement’ on Greece – annotated by former finance Minister Yanis Varoufakis

The Euro Summit statement (or Terms of Greece's Surrender - as it will go down in history) follows, annotated by yours truly. The original text is untouched with my notes confined to square brackets (and in red). Read and weep.  More

 

On Greek Crisis

“Well you’ll be around for long enough to remember the 1967 coup d’état, you will recall that the choice of weapon used in order to bring down democracy then was the tanks, well this time it was the banks, the banks were used by foreign powers to take over the government, 67 they used the tanks to take over the government the difference is now that this time there are also taking over all remaining public property, they are putting in a company that is going to be domiciled in Luxembourg (laughs), remember Lux licks, um and ah the Greek government is going to have to sell all of it according to a specified timetable, give 50% of it back to the troika for repaying unpayable debt, use another part of it to recapitalise the banks without ever having any control over the banks, the banks remain completely under the control of the oligarchs who brought the country to its knees a few years ago… so this is ah um how should I put it, you are right it is a complete annulment of national sovereignty.   More

 

AUSTERITY WILL WRECK EUROPE: Greece and the scary new European ultra-nationalism

German characterizations of Greece, in the press and in political speeches, range from patronizing to vicious—and they do not sound pretty in a German accent. One cosmopolitan German whom I know well, a man who has long lived in the United States, told me in 2012: “They should just dig a big hole, toss the Greeks in, and cover it over.” … Germany acts in tandem with a deeply conservative European Commission permanent bureaucracy, with hedge funds as enforcers. In effect, without the broad consent or understanding of the European public, a huge amount of sovereignty has been transferred from nation-states to EU officials, who are beyond direct democratic accountability—and that authority is being used to enforce a perverse economic strategy… The obsession among Europe’s leaders with debt repayment rather than debt relief, and the protracted policy deadlock while the crisis worsens, are chillingly reminiscent of the 1920s. Unless the broader ideology of austerity for states and license for bankers is reversed, Europe will continue to lurch from crisis to crisis, and the Continent’s institutions will face a generation of lost prosperity and lost legitimacy for its democratic governing institutions.

 

Greece’s Surrender: A Return to 1919, or to 1905?

For those who viewed the last five months as not just a dispute about the finances of a small country but as part of a much larger battle about the future of Europe, these are important developments. And they will affect not only Greece but other heavily indebted countries, such as Ireland, Portugal, Italy, and France.  >From this perspective, this week’s agreement with the creditors isn’t the end: it is the beginning of a movement to wrench Europe away from technocracy, debt deflation, and Teutonic fiscal orthodoxy. This was the vision that Varoufakis spoke about in a speech he gave in Berlin last month, when he called for an end to the vicious cycle of austerity and depression and for a new Europe. And it is the vision that motivates Tsipras and other members of Syriza. “The neoliberals have had the upper hand in Europe for thirty years and we want to move away from that, in form as well as substance,” Dimitris Tzanakopoulos, Tsipras’s chief of staff, told Robert Misik, an Austrian journalist, who has just published a long piece about Greece on Social Europe. “These are political mechanisms that, in the end, disenfranchise whole nations, and you can’t change them all within four months.”  More

 

*   *   *   *

THE IRAN NUCLEAR AGREEMENT: THE CHOICE

 

The Iran deal, explained in clear language by a nuclear expert

The intention of this agreement is to take the weapons option off the table for the next 25 years, and the agreement does that… It exceeds or is directly in line with everything in the US fact sheet that was put out [in April]. I thought the US fact sheet was a great deal, and I think this is a good deal.  When I say that, I mean that it's a very good nonproliferation deal. If you want it to focus on the problems with Iran running around in Iraq or Syria, this deal is not for you. If you are focused on the nuclear issue specifically, it's a very good deal. It makes the possibility of Iran developing a nuclear weapon in the next 25 years extremely remote. It would require a Herculean effort of subterfuge and clandestine activity… Iran knows what it's doing going into this. They know the consequences if they screw up here, and the provisions are very tight, the inspection regime is very robust. The likelihood of getting caught is near 100 percent.  More

 

Nonproliferation Expert: “IT’S A DAMN GOOD DEAL”

I went through the documents, including the White House fact sheet, as well as my own notes from conversations with administration officials. It would seem that the agreement is as good or better in all important respects than what officials described in the spring… But there will also be a cottage industry in Washington, D.C., for the next decade dedicated to manufacturing one crisis after another to try to derail this agreement… What’s going to be needed to deal with this is a sense of calm, a sense of perspective, and a sense of humor. There are going to be lots of people who get red in the face, point out all the terrible things the Iranian government does, and generally make accusations quicker than they can be debunked or resolved through negotiations. It will be important to step back every now again, breathe deeply, look at how things have turned out in North Korea and Iraq and remember: This is a pretty damned good deal.  More

 

100-Plus Former U.S. Ambassadors Applaud Iran Deal

As the controversy over the Iran deal heats up—and it’s going to get a lot hotter, especially come September—more than 100 former U.S. ambassadors have signed on to a letter drafted by The Iran Project applauding what they characterized as a “landmark agreement” and urging its support by Congress. Signatories included former Under Secretary of State Nicholas Burns, Daniel Kurtzer (ambassador to Israel and Egypt), one-time neoconservative heartthrob Ryan Crocker (ambassador to Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, and Syria), Frank Wisner (former ambassador to India, Egypt, the Philippines, and Zambia and under secretary of defense for international security affairs), and Thomas Pickering (former under secretary of state for political affairs and ambassador to Israel, Russia, India, and the United Nations). The letter was released on the same day that former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright also spoke out in favor of the deal.    More

 

U.S. Offers to Help Israel Bolster Defenses, Yet Iran Nuclear Deal Leaves Ally Uneasy

When President Obama called Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on Tuesday to discuss the nuclear deal with Iran, the American president offered the Israeli leader, who had just deemed the agreement a “historic mistake,” a consolation prize: a fattening of the already generous military aid package the United States gives Israel… In Israel, the question was not whether the deal would be followed by a robust new military aid package from Washington, but rather when such discussions would commence and what might be on the shopping list. Isaac Herzog, the leader of the opposition in Parliament, said Tuesday night that he would soon travel to the United States “to advance a package of security measures to suit the new situation.”… The current agreement, which went into effect in 2009, provides for $3 billion a year, most of which is used by Israel to buy American military hardware, such as jets and components for missile defense. In talks that started long before the Iran nuclear deal began to take shape, Israel requested between $4.2 billion and $4.5 billion a year for the next 10 years, an official familiar with the talks said.   More

70 YEARS, NEVER AGAIN: Hiroshima-Nagasaki Week!

70 YEARS, NEVER AGAIN: Hiroshima-Nagasaki Week!

August 5-9, 2015

 

Thursday, August 6: Join the annual Procession and Commemoration as Boston Remembers Hiroshima and Nagasaki. From throughout the region, we will gather at 3 pm at First Church of Boston, 66 Marlborough St, and proceed through the Public Garden to Copley Square, to remember through dance, music, and speakers the horrendous bombings that launched the age of nuclear peril. This is one of many events across Massachusetts calling attention to the people’s demand for nuclear disarmament.

 

Entering the Age of Nuclear Terror

Seventy years ago, on July 16, 1945, an assortment of scientists, including refugees who had fled European fascism, succeeded in exploding the first experimental atomic bomb in the desert outside Alamogordo, New Mexico… Then mission creep entered the picture and a scramble for other targets ensued. Despite the certainty that Japan was trying to find a way to surrender with honor, the U.S. military started looking for Japanese targets. The Trinity test bomb was essentially identical to the one that would destroy Nagasaki a few weeks later on Aug. 9. Motivating factors for not just mothballing the massively expensive project included 1) the huge secret costs that would be difficult to explain to Congress if the bomb hadn’t been used, 2) the momentum that had been built up was impossible to stop, 3) the unquenchable desire to achieve retribution against Japan for its ambush at Pearl Harbor (killing 2,500 soldiers), and 4) the need to demonstrate to the Soviet Union that the United States had “the bomb” and to warn Stalin to stay away from the spoils of the already defeated Japan.  More

 

IRAN: GIVE WAR A CHANCE?

IRAN: GIVE WAR A CHANCE?

After years of sanctions, suspicion, war threats, and negotiations, six world powers and Iran announced a comprehensive deal last week to resolve disputes over Iran’s nuclear program and roll back sanctions. The agreement was signed between Iran and the “P5+1” – including the US, UK, France, Russia, China, and Germany. Neocon Republicans (and some Democrats), together with Israel and its US supporters, have launched an intensive campaign to block this important step to avoid a new war in the Middle East.

 

Congressional offices are already receiving hundreds of calls from well-organized and well-financed anti-peace organizations. Republicans have introduced a bill (HR 367) to repudiate the agreement.  

 

 

WHAT YOU CAN DO:

Call your senators and congresspeople today and ask them to support this historic agreement!

Senator Elizabeth Warren, Phone: (202) 224-4543; Senator Ed Markey, Phone: (202) 224-2742; Representative Michael Capuano, Phone: (202) 225-5111; Representative Stephen Lynch, (202) 225-8273; Capitol switchboard: (202) 224-3121 for other reps.  So far as we know as of now, Sen. Warren, Reps. Capuano and McGovern are clearly supportive of the deal; Lynch and Moulton probably leaning toward a YES but hesitant; Senator Markey officially undecided (possibly leaning Yes) and needs calls.

 

And Sign this petition in favor of the agreement.

 

GOP against Iran deal, with or without reading it

Republicans fall into two camps when it comes to President Barack Obama's nuclear deal with Iran. Some are against it. Others want to read it before announcing their opposition. Either way, they are laying down markers for next year's campaigns for the White House and control of Congress. They question the deal's impact on the security of Israel, and wonder aloud why anyone would trust President Barack Obama, whom they accuse of naively trusting the word of the Iranian leadership.   More

 

  

​

A US-Turkey Sponsored “Islamic State Free Zone” within Syria By Devon DB, Global Research, July 30, 2015 An article in the New York Times was published recently discussing that the US and Turkey had agreed to create a ‘safe zone’ in Syria. Specifically the article stated that the plan was to have “an Islamic State-free zone controlled by relatively moderate Syrian insurgents, which the Turks say could also be a ‘safe zone’ for displaced Syrians.” Now, ignoring the fact that this is obviously a massive infringement upon the sovereignty of the Syrian state, there are some problems with this, as well as larger implications. For starters, Turkey has actively been aiding ISIS. In November 2014, Newsweek ran an interview with a former ISIS member in which he stated that he “travelled in a convoy of trucks as part of an ISIS unit from their stronghold in Raqqa, across Turkish border, through Turkey and then back across the border to attack Syrian Kurds in the city of Serekaniye in northern Syria in February” and that commanders told him and other fighters that they nothing to fear “because there was full cooperation with the Turks.” The very next month,Claudia Roth, then-deputy speaker of the German Parliament, noted that the Turkish government was aiding ISIS. In addition to this, information just came to light from a US Special Forces raid in May, which shows “undeniable” evidence that “Turkish officials directly dealt with ranking ISIS members.” The second problem is the hope that “relatively moderate Syrian insurgents” will take over the area. This assumes that there are moderates, which doesn’t seem to be true, given the fact that the US essentially gave up on the Free Syrian Army when it decided to create an entirely new force of fighters. Before then, the US had been touting the FSA as moderates. (This, of course, doesn’t get into the fact that, for example, an FSA brigade commander admitted to working with Al Nusra and ISI or that a major beneficiary of this war on ISIS is AL Qaeda.) A third problem is that while Turkey has essentially declared war on ISIS, they are bombing Kurdish positions as well, due to the fear that they have always had of Kurdish independence. The US had been backing the Kurds, however it seems to now have sold them out, at least on the Syrian front, in order to further its own goals in the region and calms the Turks’ nerves. The Times article also reported that “American officials said they would need to arrange the same kind of system for calling in airstrikes that American Special Operations forces have worked out successfully with Kurdish fighters to the east in Syria,” which sounds like Libya, where US forces were on the ground, aiding the Libyan rebels. Furthermore, the article later reports that “Insurgents, as well as their supporters in the Syrian opposition and the Turkish government, are already envisioning the plan as a step toward establishing an area where alternative governance could be set up without fear of attack by Islamic State or government forces.” Thus implying that this entire idea of a ‘safe zone’ could really just be used as a staging ground to consolidate anti-Syrian government forces and allow them to coordinate attacks. What this does for the US is it allows for them to continue to put even more pressure on the Syrian government, it gives the Turks free reign for the most part and lets them know that Washington will turn a blind eye to the bombing of the Kurds, and gives the US the option of turning the situation into another Libya, all while the US doesn’t have to truly directly engage in any actions aside from Special Forces and air strikes. This entire scenario could allow for another Libya-type situation to unfold where the goal posts are constantly shifted until they are at the outcome the US and its allies want: the fall of the Assad government.

 

​
​ 

Russia Shoots Down “US Stealth Coup”: Tough Times for America’s “Color Revolution” industry.

Russia Shoots Down “US Stealth Coup”: Tough Times for America’s “Color Revolution” industry. By Tony Cartalucci,Global Research, July 31, 2015 Times are tough for America’s “color revolution” industry. Perfected in Eastern Europe after the fall of the Soviet Union, and honed during the so-called “Arab Spring,” the process of backing subversion in a targeted country and overthrowing a sitting government under the cover of staged mass protests appears to be finally at the end of running its course. That is because the United States can no longer hide the fact that it is behind these protests and often, even hide their role in the armed elements that are brought in covertly to give targeted governments their final push out the door. Nations have learned to identify, expose, and resist this tactic, and like Adolf Hitler and the Nazi regime’s tactic of Blitzkrieg or “lighting war,” once appropriate countermeasures are found, the effectiveness of lighting fast, overwhelming force be it military or political, is rendered impotent. This was most recently observed in Armenia during the so-called “Electric Yerevan” protests – Yerevan being the capital of Armenia, and “electric” in reference to the alleged motivation of protesters – rising electric prices. American-backed “color revolutions” always start out with a seemingly legitimate motivation, but soon quickly become political in nature, sidestepping many of the legitimate, practical demands first made, and focusing almost entirely on “regime change.” For the Armenian agitators leading the “Electric Yerevan,” they didn’t even make it that far and spent most of their initial momentum attempting to convince the world they were not just another US-backed mob. The Stealth Coup  Nikol Pashinyan and his “Civic Contract” party are transparently US-backed. So many found it suspicious that he was the most prominent voice insisting that the “Electric Yerevan” was not political and by no means a US-backed movement. Verelq, an Armenian-based news website which inexplicably links to the US State Department’s Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty Armenian site, would report in their article, “Nikol Pashinyan: Protest actions in Yerevan are of exclusively social nature,” that: “Even if you look at the ongoing processes through the microscope, you cannot see any foreign political or domestic political components in the demonstrations. People do not want electricity to grow in price. That’s all,” said Pashinyan. He said electric power is first of all a product: the Electric Networks sells it and the citizens buy it. “The protest actions should be considered as protection of consumers’ rights. Politics is nowhere near,” he said. But politics were very near, including politicians like Pashinyan himself, who made it a point to visit jailed protesters throughout the failed uprising and even at one point called for the construction of a “human wall” of prominent Armenian personalities between protesters and police. US State Department-funded Armenia Now (of the New Times Journalist Training Center) reported in their article, “Politics in the Middle: Lawmakers, public figures form “human wall” between police, protesters,” that: The appeal to create a human wall was made by opposition lawmaker Nikol Pashinyan late on Tuesday as he urged all former and current MPs, scholars, show-biz representatives, lawyers, reporters, religious representatives and other public figures to visit the standoff site in order to ensure no force is applied against the protesters. Other obvious ties between the protests, Pashinyan, and US-backed NGOs have been laid out by geopolitical analyst Andrew Korybko in his article, “‘Electric Yerevan’ is Sliding Out of Control.” Despite these links, some have attempted to claim Pashinyan was merely an opportunist and that his US-backing, and attempts by US NGOs to manipulate the protests had little to do with the protests themselves. But nothing could be further from the truth. Stealth Agitators America’s next generation of “color revolutions” attempt to obfuscate all possible ties between themselves and their agitators in an attempt to take back the strategic initiative by maintaining maximum plausible deniability. But if one knows where to look, they will find that no amount of obfuscation and subterfuge can cover the links between the US State Department and its mobs. The protests were the work of  the “No To Plunder” group, led by lawyers and activists emanating from the US State Department National Endowment for Democracy (NED), USAID, and Open Society-funded Armenian Young Lawyers Association (AYLA) and the Helsinki Citizens’ Assembly Vanadzor Office who openly coordinated efforts with “No To Plunder” to pressure the government on a number of issues. At least 2 members of AYLA, Ara Gharagyozyan and Arthur Kocharyan, were identified as core members of “No To Plunder.”  AYLA’s news website “Iravaban” would list a number of young lawyers and activists attending one of its internship programs in 2014. Iravaban would also cover the protests in intricate detail from start to end, as well as report on activities AYLA and the Helsinki Citizens’ Assembly Vanadzor Office undertook to support the protests. A number of other pro-protest “news sites” included Hetq, which while it admits it is funded by convicted financial criminal George Soros’ Open Society Foundation, does not list the US NED as a sponsor – NED however does list Hetq. There is also Media.am, funded by USAID as well as the European Endowment for Democracy. All of this adds up to a large network of locally-based but foreign funded and directed media outlets that help add the illusion of consensus to disinformation spread regarding the protests. Together with US-funded training programs indoctrinating students and training lawyers and activists in the finer arts of sedition, then allowing them to go off on their own to lead mobs, the US believes sufficient plausible deniability has been created to hide ties between themselves and protest leaders. Similar efforts have been made in both Hong Kong and more recently in Thailand, where overtly US-backed mobs have been replaced by students trained, then unleashed by US-proxies. Despite this careful arrangement, the “Electric Yerevan” protests never reached critical mass. The reason for this is simple – they were suspected of being US-backed and the more overt US assets that would eventually need to move in to lead the protests were unable to, lest they confirmed that suspicion and undermined the entire effort. Without these more mainstream assets moving in and providing support, larger protests are logistically and politically impossible. How to Shoot Down a Stealth Coup Russia’s emerging media influence on the world stage played an essential role in unmasking and disrupting America’s efforts to destabilize and overthrow the government in Armenia. The ability to be one step ahead of the Western-narrative and expose the players before they even take to the stage, meant that people already knew what to look for. When the protesters hit the streets, and as the protests dragged on, US NGOs and Western media reports supporting the protests confirmed initial Russian warnings. When clumsy, overt assets like Pashinyan began getting involved, there was little doubt that electrical prices, while a real point of contention, were being used as a means to create a larger, more disruptive, and ultimately dangerous attempt at foreign-backed regime change. In the future, the government of Armenia should be careful about giving such points of contention for foreign interests to use in the first place – meaning that dedication to economic and social progress cannot be ignored, even if one is confident they can tamp down potential protests. Other nations around the world have a lot to learn from how Russia disrupted this latest attempt by America to project power beyond its shores and disrupt the lives of a sovereign people thousands of miles away. By simply informing people of what is really going on, following the money, and exposing the players involved, people in Armenia were able to assess for themselves whether or not to support the mobs – they chose wisely not to. Were Armenia to adopt similar laws as Russia’s regarding NGOs – mandating that they declare openly and often their foreign funding – people can better assess whether or not mobs these NGOs are supporting are truly marching for their interests, or Wall Street and Washington’s.

 

​
​ 

No Killer/No Spy Drones...

No Killer/No Spy Drones...

One night my friend from high school, Carver High Class of 1967 down in Southeastern Massachusetts Sam Lowell who I hadn’t seen in a while I were, full disclosure while having a few high-shelf whiskeys at Jack Higgin’s Sunnyvale Grille in Boston, arguing over the increasing use of and increased dependence on killer/spy drones in military doctrine, American military doctrine anyway. Me, well again for full disclosure I am a supporter of Veterans For Peace and have been involved with such groups, both veteran and civilian peace groups, since my own military service ended back during Vietnam War days. I follow the line of VFP that killer/spy drones are qualitatively a no better (or no worse) part of the modern military arsenal that any other weapon and need to be opposed with the same rigor as we do for nuclear weapons and other all the military hardware used in the seemingly endless wars the American imperium has dragged us into. (That “line” business in relationship to VFP is unlike various Marxist groups and quasi-Marxist collectives I hung around with in my younger days after discharge from the American Army a matter of choice rather than obligation. In those old-time organizations based on the concept of democratic centralism one, if one disagreed with the organizational “line” would if in the minority keep quiet in public about the difference. VFP, based on more broadly-based democratic principles reflecting a different mission and different way to change the world, has no such restrictions although arguing for support of killer/spy drones would put one in opposition with the goals of the organization and one would in good conscience have to consider whether continued membership was appropriate.      

Sam’s position, full disclosure he was granted an exemption from military duty during the Vietnam War period after his father had died suddenly in 1965 and he was the sole support, or close to it, of his mother and four younger sisters, was a little more nuanced if nevertheless flatly wrong from my perspective. Perhaps reflecting an “average Joe” position of a guy who did not serve in the military and had not seen up close what all the “benefits” of modern military technology have brought forth to level whatever target they have chosen to obliterate and under what conditions. In the post-9/11 period he like many from our generation of ’68 had made a sea-change in their former anti-military positions and have embraced some form of selected approval of various aspects of current military doctrine. Starting with the initial approval of the “shock and awe” campaign in Iraq which in the end left egg all over his face. Sam, nevertheless, argued that the high degree of accuracy, the “cleanness” of the method, and the destruction of the specific object (his word, I would say person or place, mainly person) without high casualties on the American side (that reduction of “boots on the ground” argument which underpins much of modern doctrine in the wake of Vietnam and even Iraq itself) to fight the “war on terrorism” which disturbs his old age has made him a partisan of such weaponry.       

As usual these days we argued for a few hours or until the whiskey ran out, or we ran out of steam and agreed to disagree. The next day though, no, the day after that I got to thinking about the issue and while not intending to directly counter his arguments wrote a short statement that reflects my own current thinking the matter. Here it is:

“Ever since the early days of humankind's existence an argument has always been made by someone and not always by the gung-ho warriors, many times rather by some safely-ensconced desk-bound soul who was too busy to become a warrior but was more than glad to let some other mother's son do the bitch work, that with some new technology, some new strategic gee-gad, warfare, the killing on one of our own species, would become less deadly, would be more morally justified, would bring the long hoped for peace that lots of people have yacked about in the abstract until some governmental decision to go to war gets their war blood up.

Those arguments are being retailed these days by the killer/spy drone aficionados who think they have found something new under the sun. Don't believe that false bill of goods, don't believe the insane war lies from warriors, arm-chair warriors, or the merely fearful, it is the same old killing machine that has gone on for eons. Killing from far way places like Nevada to the Middle East in war game rooms with screens set up like video games except tell that to the "sorry, collateral damage, no foul because not intended" victims who got in the way. Enough said and enough of killer drones killing and spy drones spying too.”  

The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Runner -For Billy B.

The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Runner -For Billy B.,



 
If you did not know what happened to the late Peter Paul Markin who used to write for some of the alternative newspaper and magazine publications that proliferated in the wake of the 1960s circus-war/bloodbath/festival/new age aborning before the ebb tide which is still with us here is a quick run-down as prelude to this story written by the later Allan Johnson who in memory of his long mourning for his boyhood corner boy bastard saint took his name as a moniker on various blogs and other social media he was associated with before he lost his long fight against cancer. RIP, brother.  

 

Markin had a lot invested emotionally and psychological in the success of the 1960s “fresh breeze coming across the land” as he called it early. Maybe it was that ebb tide, maybe it was the damage that military service in hell-hole Vietnam did to his psychic, maybe it was a whole bunch of bad karma things from his awful early childhood that he held in check when there were still sunnier days ahead but in the mid-1970s he snapped. Got involved in using and dealing cocaine just starting to be a big time profitable drug of choice among rich gringos (and junkies ready to steal anything, anytime. anywhere in order to keep the habit going). Somehow down in Mexico, Sonora, we don’t know all the details to this day a big deal Markin brokered (kilos from what we heard so big then) went awry (his old time term for something that went horribly wrong) and he wound up face down in a dusty back road with two slugs to the head and now resides in the town’s potter’s field in an unmarked grave. But the bastard is still moaned over, moaned to high heaven. Sam Lowell     



From The Pen Of Peter Paul Markin (Allan Johnson)  

 

 

 

…he, that daring black knight that some magi had prophesized , came out of the hundred generation hard-scrabble fierce warrior riff, came out of the ancient Atlas Mountains drawing strength from Rock of Gibraltar ocean swirls and hatreds of French cutthroats and Spanish perfidies, came out of the high Berber al Kim country scene of a thousand righteous battles, some won, some lost, came out of the dusty back roads of some Gide hot sun white nighttime nightmare , of some automobile kicking up dusts as some colon decided to blow some dust for kicks    came out of the Casablanca Kasbah, the bazaar, rugs, fruits, contraband, whiskey, flaming hookahs for meditation opiums and nirvana  whatever a man needed, or wanted, and could pay for, not some ironic Ricks’ Café scene but a black knight black market, all shivering and bright. He came out of the Moroccos when all was said and done.

 

He came like the wind, he came like Allah’s own curse on a pagan world, he came to conquer the big boys, the fast boys with their sweaty socks and shining suits, the black knight ready to run them down like some many bothersome curs. No more sly secret pokes from savage white suit and panama hat aging European white men looking for kicks in the Kasbah night, hookah in one hand, and some felon boy in the other,  no more dusty back roads coughing like crazy, no more laughter from veiled girls wandering along the roads, wondering like some old time North Adamsville cashmere sweater girls wondered in their time why a seemingly rationale guy was running the roads, the dusty tubercular roads,  running as if his life depended on it, and it did. That was where the fellahin met up, their dreams anyway, fellaheen black knight and fellaheen North Adamsville fast boy, Billy Brady, trying against all odds, a generation or more back, to break out of  yet another generation of fellahin madness, their dreams of breaking out, of being just that much faster that the next guy. 

 

And then  on some bright North Africa day, Allah smiling, or some god smiling, maybe that ancient god of running, the one that protected  young Greek boys from aging hipster pokes, protected the Olympus fiery- flamed fires, he ran, ran like the wind, ran like some primeval riffian whirling dervish, ran down some fast boy black man from some other Africa, from some other story, and nailed the thing, and those veiled girls, in private rooms, in very private rooms, would no longer laugh at him, laugh at him in those funny dust-laden shorts, and laugh at that slight tubercular cough…                 

And this

 

 

Funny how things come back to haunt you, or maybe haunt is not just the right word here, but rather another word connoting how you got all balled up over something and it turned to air at the touch after you sweated bloody hell over it to make it come out right but on second thought haunt is probably the right word now that I think of it. I was, probably like you were, over the top in high school about the school teams, especially football and basketball. Many a granite grey, frost-tinged, golden rainbow leaves-changing autumn afternoon I spent (or maybe misspent) yelling myself hoarse cheering on our gridiron goliaths, the North Adamsville Red Raiders, to another victory. Cheering for guys I knew, knew personally, like Bucko, Timmy Terrific, Thundering Tommy, Bullwinkle, Spit (yah, I know, there is a story, a gross story behind that but we will let history absolve that one ), Lenny, and Slam (ditto Spit, and ditto the nature of the story behind it).

 

Oh sure, I was interested in the big issues of the day too. I could, and did, quote chapter and verse on why we should have nuclear disarmament (and backed that wisdom up with my very first appearance at an anti-nuclear bomb demonstration over at Park Street Station in downtown Boston back in 1960 along with a few Quakers, shakers, ranters, panters, and little old ladies in tennis shoes, praise be)), why Red China (yah, it has been a while, People’s Republic, okay ) should be in the United Nations( done deal), and why black people should have the right to vote down South ( a very big done deal, although much remains to be done, damn it). The big literary issues too like who was the “max daddy” of the novel scene between the wars (oops, I better say between World War I and II so you know which wars I am talking about), Hemingway or Fitzgerald? (Hemingway). And, of course, the big, big questions like the meaning of existence, the nature of mortality, and how human civilization can progress. But on any given fall Saturday those issue, those big weekday issues, were like tissue in the wind when the question of third down and six, pass or run, held the world on its axis.

 

Those guys, those brawny guys, who held our humble fates, our spiritual fates in their hands if you must know because many of us took the occasional defeats just slightly less hard than the teams, deserved plenty of attention and applause, no question. But today I don’t want to speak of them, but of those kindred in the lesser sports, specifically my own high school sports, cross country, winter track, and spring track. Running, running in shorts, in all seasons to be exact. I will mention my own checkered career only in passing. It will be filled out more below, although I can tell you right do not hold your breath waiting for thundering- hoofed grand exploits, and Greek Olympus mystical night olive branch glory.

 

What I aim to do though is give, or rather get, some long overdue recognition for the outstanding runner of my high school days, Billy Brady, and arguably the best all-around trackman of the era, the era of the “geek” runner, the runner scorned and abused by motorist and pedestrian alike, before the avalanche of honors fell to any half-baked runner when “running for your life” later had some cache. Christ, even the guys, and it was all guys then, on the just so-so billiards team got more school recognition, and more importantly, girl recognition than track guys, and their king hell on no wheels champion Brady. Hell, even I went over to Joe’s Billiard Parlor (although everybody, let’s face it, knew the place was nothing but a glorified pool hall and that Joe was “connected” connected bookie connected, but the less said the better about that just in case) on Billings Road when the team had competitions.

 

Do you think I was there to bleed raider red for them? Be serious. It was nothing but the boffo, beehive-haired, Capri-pants-wearing, cashmere sweater-wearing, tight sweater-wearing, by the way, honeys (yes, honeys) who draped the tables not being used that drove me there. So there you have it.

 

Needless to say no such fanfare tarnished our lonely pursuits, our lonely, desolate, hands-on pursuits, running out in all weathers. Even the girl scorer was nothing but a girlfriend of one of the shot-putters, and she served only because no other girl would do it, and she loved her shot-putter. So there again. Here is how bad it was- a true story I swear. I spent considerable time talking up to one female fellow classmate whom I noticed was looking my way one day. That went on for a while and we got friendly. One day she asked me if I played any sports and so I used this opening to pad up my various meager exploits figuring that would impress her. Her response- “Oh, do they have a track team here?” Enough said, right? Yes sad indeed, but so that such an injustice will not follow Billy Brady’s very not needing padding exploits to eternity I, a while back, determined to pursue a campaign to get him recognition in the North Adamsville Sports Hall of Fame. To that end I wrote up the following simple plea for justice, the superbly reasoned argument for Mr. Brady’s inclusion in the Hall of Fame:

 

Why is the great 1960s cross country and track runner, Billy Brady, not in the North Adamsville Sports Hall Of Fame?

 

“Okay, Okay I am a “homer” (or to be more contemporary, a “homeboy”) on this question. In the interest of full disclosure the fleet-footed Mr. Brady and I have known each other since the mist of time. We go all the way back to being schoolmates down at Adamsville South Elementary School in the old town’s housing project, the notorious G-town projects that devoured many a boy, including my two brothers and almost, within an inch, got me. We, Bill and I, survived that experience and lived to tell the tale. What I want to discuss today though is the fact that this tenuous road warrior's accomplishments, as a cross-country runner and trackman (both indoors and out), have never been truly recognized by the North Adamsville High School sports community. (For those who still have their dusty, faded 1964 yearbooks see page 63 for a youthful photograph of the “splendid speedster” in full racing regalia.).

 

And what were those accomplishments? Starting as a wiry, but determined, sophomore Billy began to make his mark as a harrier beating seniors, top men from other teams on occasion, and other mere mortals. Junior year he began to stake out his claim on the path to Olympus by winning road races on a regular basis. In his senior year Bill broke many cross-country course records, including a very fast time on the storied North Adamsville course. A time, by the way, that held up as the record for many years afterward. Moreover, in winter track that senior year Bill was the State Class B 1000-yard champion, pulling out a heart-stopping victory. His anchor of the decisive relay in a dual meet against Somerville's highly-touted state sprint champion is the stuff of legends.

 

Bill also qualified to run with the “big boys” at the fabled schoolboy National Indoor Championships at Madison Square Garden in New York City. His outdoor track seasons speak for themselves. I will not detain you here with the grandeur of his efforts, for I would be merely repetitive. Needless to say, he was captain of all three teams in his senior year. No one questioned the aptness of those decisions.

 

Bill and I have just recently re-united, the details of which need not detain us here, after some thirty years. After finding him, one of the first things that I commented on during one of our “bull sessions” was that he really was about ten years before his time. In the 1960s runners were “geeks.” You know-the guys (and then it was mainly guys, girls were too “fragile” to run more than about eight yards, or else had no time to take from their busy schedule of cooking, cleaning, and, and looking beautiful, for such strenuous activities. Won’t the boys be surprised, very surprised, and in the not too distant 1970s future when they are, are passed by…passed by fast girls of a different kind) who ran in shorts on the roads and mainly got honked at, yelled at, and threatened with mayhem by irate motorists. And the pedestrians were worst, throwing an occasional body block at runners coming down the sidewalk outside of school. And that was the girls, those “fragile” girls of blessed memory. The boys shouted out catcalls, whistles, and trash talk about maleness, male unworthiness, and their standards for it that did not include what you were doing. Admit it. That is what you thought, and maybe did, then too.

 

In the 1970's and 1980's runners (of both sexes) became living gods and goddesses to a significant segment of the population. Money, school scholarships, endorsements, soft-touch “self-help” clinics, you name it. Then you were more than willing to “share the road with a runner.” Friendly waves, crazed schoolgirl-like hanging around locker rooms for the autograph of some 10,000 meter champion whose name you couldn’t pronounce, crazed school boy-like droolings when some foxy woman runner with a tee-shirt that said “if you can catch me, you can have me” passed you by on the fly, and shrieking automobile stops to let, who knows, maybe the next Olympic champion, do his or her stuff on the road. Admit that too.

 

And as the religion spread you, suddenly hitting thirty-something, went crazy for fitness stuff, especially after Bobby, Sue, Millie, and some friend’s grandmother hit the sidewalks looking trim and fit. And that friend’s grandma beating you, beating you badly, that first time out only added fuel to the fire. And even if you didn’t get out on the roads yourself you loaded up with your spiffy designer jogging attire, one for each day, and high-tech footwear. Jesus, what new aerodynamically-styled, what guaranteed to take thirteen seconds off your average mile time, what color-coordinated, well- padded sneaker you wouldn’t try, and relegate to the back closet. But it was better if you ran.

 

And you did for a while. I saw you, and Billy did too. You ran Adamsville Beach, Castle Island, the Charles River, Falmouth, LaJolla, and Golden Gate Park. Wherever. Until the old knees gave out, or the hips, or some such combination war story stuff. That is a story for another day. But see, by then though, Bill had missed his time.

 

Now there is no question that a legendary football player like Thundering Tommy Riley from our class should be, and I assume is, in the North Adamsville Sports Hall of Fame. On many a granite gray autumn afternoon old "Thundering Tommy" thrilled us with his gridiron prowess running over opponents at will. But on other days, as the sun went down highlighting the brightly-colored falling leaves, did you see that skinny kid running down East Squanto Street toward Adamsville Beach for another five mile jaunt? No, I did not think so. I have now, frankly, run out of my store of sports spiel in making my case.

 

Know this though; friendship aside, Bill belongs in the Hall. That said, what about making a place in the Hall for the kid with the silky stride who worked his heart out, rain or shine, not only for his own glory but North's. Join me. Let's "storm heaven" on this one.

 

March 22, 2010

*********

Markin comment, April 10, 2010:

 

I really do want to solely talk about the subject matter described in the headline and that I have forcefully argued for above but apparently in this confessional age, an age when anyone with the most rudimentary cyberspace skills can feel free to sabotage even the most innocent project, the simple task of getting track legend Billy Brady into the North Adamsville Sports Hall Of Fame, I feel compelled to answer, generally, some of the already crazed responses received from old time North Adamsville alumni before proceeding.

*****

What kind of madness have I unleashed? What kinds of monsters have I let loose? Recently, as a simple act of friendship, I wrote a commentary in this space arguing that my old friend and classmate from 1964, Bill Brady, should be inducted into the North Adamsville High School Sports Hall of Fame. Now my e-mail message center is clogged with requests from every dingbat with some kind of special pleading on his or her mind. A few examples should suffice, although as a matter of conscience (mine) they shall remain nameless.

 

One request argued for my writing up something in recognition of his finishing 23rd in the Senior Division of the North Adamsville Fourth of July Fun Run. Well, what of it? Move on, brother, and move faster. Another, arguing for inclusion into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, touted her near perfect imitation of Mick Jagger on Gimme Shelter. Please!! A third sought a testimonial from me for an employment opportunity, including a resume that made me truly wonder where she had been all these years. Here is my favorite. A fellow classmate wanted me to get in on the ground floor, as a financial backer of course, for his idea of putting the ubiquitous teenage cell phone use and the Internet together. Hello! Jack (oops, I forgot, no names) I believe they call that Sidekick, or some such thing. And so it goes.

Listen up- I hear Facebook and YouTube calling all and sundry such untapped talents. Please leave this space for serious business. You know this writer's musings on the meaning of existence, the lessons of history, and the struggle against mortality. That said, at the moment that serious business entails getting the gracefully-gaited speed merchant, Mr. Brady, his shot at immortality by induction into the Sports Hall of Fame. Let us keep our eyes on the prize here. Join me in that effort. Enough said.

**********

Markin comment, April 14, 2010:

 

And yet what could one make of this twisted saga, other that something, in the water in old North Adamsville, from this unknown fellow townie:

Apparently being Billy Brady’s friend since the “dog days” of Adamsville South Elementary School down in the "projects" is not enough. Recently, strictly as a sign of that friendship, I argued the merits of his case for entry into the North Adamsville High School Sports Hall of Fame. Now it seems that I am to be eternal "flak," you know, "press agent," "spin doctor,” "gofer," or "stooge" for every wannabe “sports figure” whoever donned the raider red garb in any sport, at any time. Isn't there some kind of constitutional provision against indentured servitude? Here is why I ask that question:

 

I feel, after an extended e-mail from Brian Kenney, North Adamsville Class of 1965, a man unknown to me unless my memory is more befogged that usual, now “duty-bound” to announce the latest 'newsworthy note' about this, according to his resume, silky-striding, fleet-footed, fast moving tennis player from the Class of 1965. He wants, as a matter of due, apparently, a full course Bill Brady treatment by me on his behalf as another lonely and neglected “athlete.”

 

Brother Brian, as part of that projected relentless campaign has upgraded his photograph on his class profile page. Yah, I know, for starters, hold the presses, right? Earlier this year he stated that had placed his Commonwealth of Massachusetts driver's license on his class site for your inspection. (For those who did not get a chance to see the picture I have not made this up. I really don't have that kind of imagination.) As one would expect of such a photo, Brother Brian, of course, looked like he had just finished a long stretch in Cedar Junction State Prison (Walpole, for those who have been out of the area for a while). And maybe he had, and just “forgot” to include that in his rather extensive e-mailed resume. Christ, Brian those driver’s ID photos would make the Madonna look like an axe murderess. What did you expect?

 

In any case Mr. Kenney has rectified that situation with a new downloaded photo on his profile page. As to the photo itself, and his pose, there is a method to the madness. Brother Brian insists that one and all should know that he is no longer that slender and svelte tennis player of 135 pounds of his misbegotten youth. Like we could not figure that out for a quick peep, right? He mentioned, in passing, that now people who did not know that he was on the boys’ tennis team will think that he was a maybe a bleeding raider red football player. In short, a person not to be messed around with, a person one would not dream in a thousand night dreams of throwing sand in his face like in the old tennis days. Nice, right? And so it goes. Good luck brother but I swear I do not know you, and while I wish you luck, my eyes are on the Brady prize. And so it goes.

 

Markin comment, June 23, 2010:

 

Below is the traffic on this Billy Brady question, mainly unedited, from an old track guy duffer, Clarence “Shaker” Boren, Class of 1957, that at least has the virtue of being on the subject at hand, mainly, and includes, where necessary, my response:

 

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, April 16, 2010:

 

Hi, Markin-Good post for us old-timers-I agree that "back in the day" the cross country, winter track and spring track athletes were usually the "forgotten ones," “los olvidados,” as we say out here in San Jose (New Mexico, not California) where I have lived in splendid and sunny retirement the past several years. Although maybe “batos locos” is more like it. You know, crazy, crazy as a loon, for running around in all weathers with just shorts and a white tee-shirt on, and funny black sneakers, or black spiked track shoes that looked like regular shoes, regular Thom McAn shoes, except they has spikes in them. Funny looking then anyway when tennis sneakers, white tennis sneakers (for girls) and black Converses (for guys), were cool and track shoes, with or without spikes were not, definitely not.

********

Markin reply, June 28, 2010

 

Jesus, I remember those “uniforms”, black shorts always too big or too small so that they either cut off your circulation, you know where, or practically came down to your knees. Half the time I ran in my white gym shorts, well kind of white by the race time after taking a beating all week in gym and on the roads. They probably could have run the race without me sometimes. And the brazen singlet tee-shirt that draped off your shoulder and made you look like some alluring old- time female movie star like Veronica Lake, or Rita Hayworth. No wonder guys, and girls too now that I think of it, kind of steered clear of us like maybe we were contagious.

 

What you would do to get a “uniform,” and here my memory is clearest, is at the start of the season rummage through this big old cardboard box in Coach Jenner’s class room, a box filled with about twenty years’ worth of discarded shorts and shirts, in all conditions except new, and try to get a fit, as close as you could. I think the track budget must have been all of fourteen dollars then, maybe less, but certainly not more.

 

The shoes, oh the shoes. Well, we were not too bad off for cross country and indoor track (at the armories anyway) because we could wear those old thick rubber-heeled black-striped track shoes that we would get up at Snyder’s in Adamsville Square. And get them cheap because the school has some kind of deal with that store if you brought in a note from the coach. Every fall, starting with freshman year, at the beginning of school there was always the annual trek up there to get my pair. A pair would last both seasons, no problem. Of course those low-tech days shoes, those hard-pounding, asphalt-bending shoes are, probably, at least partially responsible for our later hip and knee replacement worthiness. But the spiked spring track shoes were something else. Again we would rummage through some cardboard box for a pair that both matched (not always the case) and were within a couple of sizes of your actual foot measurement. They were mostly black and looked like shoes your grandmother might have worn, or like Jesse Owens’ if you have ever seen a picture of the pair that he might have worn back in the 1930s. And then, if you did find that elusive matched pair, have to hit the coach up for spikes, if he had them. I do remember more than once, if memory doesn’t fail, having to share spiked shoes with other track team members. Ouch!

***********

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, July 10, 2010:

 

…It may have been in part because those sports [referring to cross country, indoor and outdoor track] were not considered "team sports" like football, basketball, baseball, hockey, field hockey, lacrosse, soccer, gymnastics, golf, squash, swimming, tennis, billiards, badminton, volleyball, ping pong, table tennis, darts, and bowling (did I forget any? And I forget, was billiards a team sport then, I included it anyway) since other than the relays (4X440 and 4Xmile, outdoors) each individual ran or did a field event on his own hook, the 100, 220, 440, 880, mile, two mile, shot put, discus, javelin, high jump, broad jump, triple jump, pole vault and the hurdles, high, low and intermediate. (All measured in the English system then: inches, feet, yards, miles, not the metric system, millimeters, centimeters, meters and kilometers, kilograms, and so on). I don’t think anybody, officially anyway, did the decathlon (100, 440, mile, 110 high hurdles, broad jump, high jump, shot put, discus, javelin, pole vault). I don’t think anyone did the hammer throw either. About the only way a track athlete (cross country, winter or spring track, runner or field man) would be recognized would be if he were a star in at least one of the team sports, the big team sports like football, basketball and baseball not billiards and bowling or those other lesser team sports, except maybe soccer.

 

Markin reply, July 11, 2010:

 

…I, by the way, as you seemingly endlessly rattled them off, pretty much remembered the various sports offered at North, although like you I am not sure whether billiards was a team sport or not. All I know is that after the football guys, naturally, in a time when we lived and breathed raider red every granite grey-skied fall Saturday, home or away, the billiard guys always seemed to have the pick of the best looking girls. I would go over to Joe’s Billiard Parlor on non-running days just to check out the girls hanging around, hanging around looking, well, looking very interesting. But let us keep that between us, okay. I, in any case, never took up billiards. Did you? I can’t believe though that I forgot the badminton team, mixed boys and girls. Christ, they were state Class B champions three years in a row during my North time, or maybe twice champs and once co-champs. Thanks for the reminder. I know that we are getting older but I do not think that darts was a recognized team inter-mural sport. I do know that it was an intra-mural sport and that every spring there would be a championship, and every spring my ragamuffin gang that couldn’t shoot straight team would lose in the first round, and lose badly, but I thought that was strictly part of gym class.

I also, since I did cross country and track for all four years at North, pretty much remembered the various events that composed the track programs, indoor and out except, I think that the indoor hurdles, while high, were 45 yards. I also remembered that the events used the English system of measurement and not the metric system then. Although, as you know, the old home town track was actually five laps to the mile so that meant two and one half laps for the 880, and so on. I don’t know what they would be in the metric system. Anyway, the five lap system didn’t help when we went to “real” tracks for pacing purposes.

 

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, July13, 2010:

 

[In response to an off-hand Markin question about his running career story]… My "running career" at North was only in sophomore, junior and senior years, and was not continuous. As I mentioned before, my 9th grade English teacher Dave Mooney was the reason I considered running. At the beginning of the 10th grade (1954), he called a few of us to his classroom to see if we might be interested in cross country. I took the chance and ended up as the 5th, 6th or 7th kid in most meets that season. That gave me enough to barely get a letter. I didn't compete in the 1954-55 indoor season; because I didn't know it existed. I started 1955 spring track and got as far as running the 880 in the first meet. Sadly, I ran the race with the start of a case of the mumps and ended up missing the rest of the season.

 

I began working nights at a variety store on Billings Road the summer of 1955 and didn't go out for cross country that year. Then a friend, Ron Kiley, convinced me to try out for winter track in the 1955-56 season. We started running the 1000 and even ran in the State Meet at the old Boston Garden. I was near the end of that race. Running on a 10 or 11 lap board track for the first time was scary. In any given race, Ron was ahead of me, because he was faster and had a good "kick" at the end. If he was 1st, I was 2nd. If he was 2nd, I was 3rd, and so on. Coach Jenner switched me to the mile just past mid-season. I still didn't win a race, but came in second once to Natick's 1000 yard State Champion. Jenner even tried to get me to break 5:00 during practice around the circle in front of the school. He put 2 or 3 guys who normally ran the 600 to act as "rabbits," but the best I could do was 5:01.5. Somebody later said the mile wasn't measured right around the circle, but I never knew if it was short or long. I did manage a letter for that season. Somewhere in there coach Mooney had a heart attack and I didn't go out for spring track in 1956.

 

I started cross country in the fall of 1956 with Coach Jenner. We had a bunch of good young distance runners that year, so I was put on the "junior varsity" team, which ran a shorter course. We even ran up and down Hemmings Avenue at the edge of North Adamsville to get some hill practice, and also ran out to Coach Jenner’s house in South Adamsville where he served refreshments. I barely made it to mid-season when I decided to leave the team. I started the 1956-57 winter track season. Then in January I chopped off part of my right index finger slicing bologna where I worked nights. So much for my senior winter track season. Then came spring track again. That time I tried to give it "my all." We held a "Junior Olympics" in which all competed in all track and field events. I was one of a very few who actually did compete in all events even though I still had my arm bandaged from the January accident. Those who competed in everything were given new uniforms and shoes. I think I was near the top in the overall competition, but probably because I did try all events, though the results were far from spectacular. I ran the 880 all season with Ron Kiley again just ahead of me. The most fun race was the last one against arch-rival Adamsville High at Memorial Stadium. Coach Mooney was back and for some reason put Ron in the mile. He also switched Slim Baldwin and Slacker Russ Tandberg to the 880. Jim was a good all-round athlete who also played football and basketball. Russ was a good all-round runner. I thought, "Oh, boy, a chance to win a race." We swept the 880 with Russ 1st, Jim 2nd and me 3rd. I was a bit disappointed, but was ecstatic over our sweeping the race. I thought we had won that meet, but Ron didn't think so. Oh, well. At least my last meet was fun and I again managed to get a letter. Memories that made the rest of life in those days bearable.

 

Regards, Shaker

 

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, July 22, 2010

 

…[ in response to a question about what got him running from Markin] I probably never would have participated in track at all if it hadn't been for my 9th grade English teacher, Mr. Mooney. See, he was crazy for literature, and made us crazy for it too, so when I found out that he was the track coach I figured I’d try out just be able to ask him questions about Shakespeare, Hemingway, Hardy, and Flannery O’Connor who I was crazy for after reading the short story, Wise Blood. Jesus, Mr. Mooney knew his literature, and poetry too come to think of it. Especially the magical mad man William Blake, Keats, Shelley, Lord Byron, T.S Eliot, W.H. Auden, and William Butler Yeats, naturally, because of the Irish thing. Not much new “beat” stuff though, like Allen Ginsberg with his huge up-front homo fag references and doings and swearing, no howling it, in about every line. That was not to Coach Mooney’s tastes, maybe because he was an old guy and that just didn’t appeal to him. I found out more about it later in college, and read it too.

 

Markin reply, July 23, 2011

 

I’m glad you brought up literature because I was crazy for it too in ninth grade, although I did not have Mr. Mooney but Mr. Larkin. I guess they must have both been crazy for William Butler Yeats because Mr. Larkin made us memorize his Easter 1916 in the Spring of 1961 because of Yeats’ Irishness (even if it was Anglo-Irish, meaning in those days, Protestant Irish, and maybe just maybe not really Irish but I have since learned better). Mr. Larkin sure could make a story jump off the page when he read in that deep bass voice of his and then discussed with us what he had read to us. And asked us questions, hard questions. That’s where Wise Blood came in but also Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea, Thomas Hardy’s The Mayor of Casterbridge and lots of poetry like T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland and The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (I loved that name). Like Mooney, no way was Larkin going to tout Allen Ginsberg to a bunch of high school kids although I read his Howl, through the Harvard Square grapevine poetry network that filled every coffeehouse there in the early 1960s. If I remember the names of other books and poems I’ll let you know. What else did you guys read?

 

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, July 24, 2010:

 

…. [Continuing on with his reasons for taking up running] And I’d also figured that I would be able to stay in shape for the summer beach job as a lifeguard I was promised by running, as well. (That job didn’t pan out because I had cut my hand doing something, cut it badly, and it hadn’t healed in time so I couldn’t swim up to the regulation speed or lift anybody, except maybe little kids.) As for him thinking I could run, Mr. Mooney that is, I guess that he thought my being just over 6 ft. tall and just under 150 lbs. I had a possibility of being a distance runner because most distance runners then, and now too, were tall and thin. He did answer a lot of my questions about literature even though his tall and thin theory was probably wrong. In other words you could be, like me tall, thin, and slow too.

 

Markin reply, August 5, 2010:

 

As for why I ran. I don’t know really except one thing for sure- to get out of the house, to blow off steam when my mother, mother and father, my mother and father and brothers, mix and match the combinations, got on my nerves about, well, about kid’s stuff really when you think about it now. Starting from getting a job (basically why didn’t I do so to help out) to why are you hanging around with the corner boys at Harry’s Variety over on Sagamore Street so much you are going to only get in trouble to why do you need money for this, that, and the other thing since you don’t work and are only going to spend it on some girl, some girl who is just using you (that from mother, usually, read Freudian implications at your peril though). See, really kid’s stuff. But real enough then, starting in middle school, enough to get me out of the house with my long black chino pants (cuffed, as was my odd-ball, off-the-wall fashionista statement then) since I didn’t have shorts, or didn’t like to wear them, or something like that, a white tee shirt and some kind of sneakers, maybe Chuck Taylor’s, and just run over to the oval in front of the high school, run the oval a few times, and I would feel better. So put it down as therapy if you want. To get out of my kid head, and cool out.

That and to play sports, or rather play a sport. Unlike you I was not tall and thin though. But probably like you, if talking to other guys who ran track (not field event guys because they usually were football players or other rugged sports-types) was any indication, it was because no way, no way in hell, was I big enough, brawny enough, physically tough enough or plain old-fashioned coordinated enough, mainly the latter, to play team sports like football, basketball, or baseball. And like I said I was never into billiards (or volleyball or badminton, and the like) so there you have it. The one, sour, lonely attempt at football was in seventh grade when I was a center, a ninety-eight pound center, who go to play in one game (a game that we were far out of reach on as for winning), for about three plays and was manhandled, no kid-handled like some kind of dish rag by the one hundred and fifty pound guys on the opposite side. Enough said.

 

Running was thus the only other option. Now I mentioned that not playing billiards (and the others) idea for a reason. Tell me if I am wrong but part of playing sports, any sport it seemed, or at least it seemed at the time was about using athletic prowess to act as a magnet for the, umm, girls. And it worked, worked big time for the…football players who had more chicks around them than they could shake sticks at, if they were so inclined. Or, like I said before, those damn billiard players who had babes hanging off the rafters. Runners though, and field event guys too unless they were football players got nada, zilch, zero. I already told you about the response of that girl I was trying to chat up –no dice. I also don’t think the running teams collectively got more than one sentence in the daily P.A. end of the day notices. Maybe less. So like I said it was for the joy of running, of being at one with ancient Greek Olympus spirits, of being at one with the ancient marathon men, the ancient wind runners, and nothing as crass and crude as trying to do it in order to be a magnet for babes.

 

Regards, Markin

 

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, August 13, 2010

 

… [continuing his saga of his high school running career which has probably by now taken him more time to relate than the combined time it took him to run all his races in high school] Coach Jenner was the winter track coach and got me to try the mile after being in a few 1000 yard races in the old Metropolitan Indoor Track League over at the Newton Street Armory in Boston. That was where I first saw black kids running, running like the wind some of them, and others slow like me. But those fast guys were great to watch. I was not so good in that indoor stuff, however, because I couldn’t get the hang of “elbowing” other runners around those tight corners. See, an indoor track is smaller, maybe ten or eleven laps to the mile, and the events are different, the running events anyway, 50, 300, 600, mile, two mile, 55 high hurdles, shot put, high jump, and relays. So a lot shorter program with less choices for events. What I remember most of all from those days was that we always seemed to enjoy ourselves and had a lot of laughs, regardless of a meet's outcome. Although I do not know if Coach Mooney or Coach Jenner saw it the same way, or if their jobs depended on winning or stuff like that. Then maybe we wouldn’t have laughed so much, especially on the bus back to school after losing.

 

I have often wondered if anyone kept track of North's cross country and track meets over the years. Winter track competitions were not always held indoors. During the 1956-57 winter track season we had a meet against Weymouth which had an outdoor slightly elevated board track. We even had to walk through about 8 inches of snow to get to the track. Those were the days. Take care, and keep it country.

 

Regards, Shaker

******

Markin response, August 22, 2010:

 

Shaker- Thanks for the latest attached material and note and all the good information about the years just before Billy and I ran at North. When I get a few hours, or more, I will read it through more closely. Much of the material, at first glance, was unfamiliar to me, especially about the guys who were the third or fourth best runners or field men on a team in the different events in the Metropolitan Track League. It was nice to see that you have remembered those in our era who also tended to be also-rans like us. Most of the names of the coaches, other than North Adamsville’s coaches Mooney and Jenner, were unfamiliar to me as were the locales and conditions of the various track facilities, indoor and out in the Greater Boston area. This seems like a massive task, and apparently you have some time on your hands to compile it. Or was it part of a doctoral dissertation, or something?

I do see in the blizzard of data sent that you guys ran at the same armory (Newton Street) for winter track as we did a few years later. I know what you mean about that elbowing problem because I could never get the hang of it either. I would either get too far inside and get “boxed” in or, if I laid back to avoid the box I would get too far back to be able to get back in contact with the lead runners and would have to run like crazy at the finish. I did have a fast finish, although it was not enough many times, too many times.

The situation was even worst on that outdoor Weymouth track that you mentioned. The oval was smaller, maybe thirteen or fourteen lap to the mile, and so you also got dizzy running it. And always, always, always it would be about seven below zero out when we had the meet because it was usually in January before the Met League got under way. I never ran well there because of the frostbite on my feet, the failure to bring snowshoes, and/or I would get “shuffled off to Buffalo (my expression)” on those hairpin turns. Once I got run off the track on a turn but you probably know all about that. As bad as the Newton Street Armory was it was better than that.

The worst shuffling (although not always to Buffalo) though was in ninth grade in the 600 yard dash that was the only event available for ninth graders then. Every kid, every ninth grade kid who wanted to run had to run in that one event (or maybe they divided in two sections, but either way it was massed chaos like the start of the Boston Marathon these days-for the also-rans) and sprint, sprint like mad for the first corner. That, most of the time, determined how you would do because as you know the 600 is a short, fast race that does not allow much room for error since it was only in a little over a minute, and some change.

 

Markin response, August 27, 2010:

 

…A couple of points for your information [in response to Shaker’s unsolicited, earlier in the day detailed chronology of his life immediately after high school which included service in the U.S. Navy where his ran unattached in Amateur Athletic Union (AAU)-sponsored events]. It is amazing how many good runners, not just average or below average runners like us right after high school, for a number of reasons, also joined the Navy or some branch of the military. That was kind of the point behind my comment about Bill Brady being somewhat before his time as a great runner in one of our “bull sessions.” Nobody from colleges, and places like that, was offering track guys, good track guys, much of anything in those days, especially guys who were not already on the way to college anyway and track prowess was the clincher for acceptance at say, Villanova or New York University, so the military was the escape route from a tough home situation. A few guys told me their stories and from what I can gather they had rougher home situations than mine, and mine was just the ordinary garden variety hell. Unfortunately that garden variety hell was kids’ stuff, pure kids’ stuff, compared to the impeding escalation the war in Vietnam that was staring them dead-ass in the face when they enlisted.

 

By the way looking at the meet results you sent me with your attachment my career in track and cross country seems to have paralleled yours. A few good races but mainly "the slows." I got letters in all three sports but some of them, frankly, were gifts. My best year in cross country was probably in 11th grade. Indoor and outdoor track were not memorable. Like I told you I started running in the 9th grade (actually in eight grade for fun- and to get out of the house) and thought I was going to be a star. As I pointed out in another thing I wrote "A Walk Down Dream Street" so much for some dreams. The reason I ran, at least thinking back on it, and like I mentioned before, was because I was not, and am not now, good at team sports, like baseball or volleyball, yet I wanted to do some physical activity. Such is life.

 

Markin response September 4, 2010;

 

… [in response to Shaker’s observations about the lack of college opportunities in those days for academically-challenged track runners compared to today and whether that affected their performances-Markin] I saw many, many great runner who really had the silky stride and the determination to go for it. I know guys that ran the beaches, the sand dune beaches of New England, mainly down the Cape [Cod] in the early morning summers. I would do some such running but these guys were driven to go farther and harder. With added coaching and some encouragement they could have reached for the stars. Remember that many of the best runners ran for running clubs, like the Los Angeles Striders and Grand Street Track Club (New York City). What a waste of human capital.

 

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, September 6, 2010

 

[… In response to Markin’s question about his take on Coach Jenner’s coaching techniques, or lack of them]. You have mentioned that Coach Jenner just seemed to be "doing his time" while you were at North Adamsville. I first became acquainted with him when I went out for winter track for the 1955-56 season. I was told that he was teaching at one of the junior high schools while coaching winter track at North. I never had any difficulties in my dealings with him. Maybe my expectations weren't very high, because my "running talent" was somewhat limited.

 

He did seem to pay a bit more attention to those of us who needed more guidance and let the more talented kids just "do their thing." He did seem to want to get the most out of the talent he had "for the good of the team" and may have rubbed a few egos the wrong way. He, like coach Mooney, may not have been perfect, but I felt they both were fairly sympathetic to the weaknesses of all of us. In 1955-56 Coach Jenner was probably around 50 years old, so by the time you guys dealt with him, he was closing in on 60. His seeming to be just "doing his time" may have been due to other causes outside of school and coaching.

 

Who knows? Teachers and coaches are more-or-less human, too. We had a few who may have been a bit on the "nutty side" or may have had problems with booze or at home. Adolescents, as in most eras, don't really understand adults and vice versa. Sometimes it might just be a lack of "chemistry" between pupil/athlete and teacher/coach. Life isn't always "fair" and some of us may not be as flexible or adaptable as we could be.

 

Anyway, I saw Jenner as a decent coach and we may have actually won a few meets with him. We had one runner who was Class "C" State Champion for the 300 yd. dash (George Dolan) one year and later ran for the four years he was at Brandeis University. He told me that in those four years Brandeis didn't win a track meet, but he did end up in their Hall of Fame. However, it is good that you are campaigning for your friend’s being recognized. It is time to recognize the "marginal sports," including those of the past. I have tried to keep up with track at North, but it's not easy from San Jose. I even sent a message to the Adamsville Gazette a couple years ago asking about high school sports, but they said they were not allotted enough space to cover everything. As I said, life is not always fair and we may not always get what we want when we want it. I constantly tell my 9 year old grandson that he should not let frustration cause him to give up on anything.

 

Regards Shaker in San Jose

 

P.S. While touring the old school last year, I asked a guy who seemed to be a teacher or coach why there was little or no recognition for some of the sports teams after 1992, which seemed to have been a banner year. His answer was brief; "Budget."

 

Markin response to Shaker, September 12, 2010

 

Shaker- Thanks for your take on Coach Jenner. It certainly was true that he tended to cater to the better athletes but he left the rest of us to dangle in the wind in my time. But at this remove that is just so much water under the bridge or over the dam, take your pick. I know from my own observations since that time that some high school coaches take on the job as a source of extra income as much as to fulfill a desire to coach. That probably was true, or truer, in the old days when teachers' wages were very poor indeed. That is not the problem that I was trying to address though. What was the problem, as far as Bill was concerned, was that in him Jenner could have had that one extraordinary athlete of a coaching career. And he, frankly, blew it. But like I say, let’s leave sleeping dogs lie.

 

On another matter, a matter of the utmost historical importance I have a question. Did you guys run your practices and official track meets over in the old "dust bowl" off of Hollis Ave near the North Adamsville Middle School, a place where the football team also practiced in the fall? More importantly, did anyone come out alive?

 

Regards, Markin

 

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, September 19, 2010:

 

… I think the "dust bowl" you refer to is still called Hollis Field. The first time I ever set foot on that track was our first or second practice for cross country in the fall of 1954. We started by jogging 5 laps (1 mile) and the legs were hurting for a week, since I had never really run more than a few yards before that. Then there was spring track in 1955 when I ran my first 880. The mumps prevented me from finishing my first season of track. It may have been that same spring pre-season when I tripped over a teammate's heel and fell. I suffered a pretty bad scrape, but I got up and finished the 220 without looking at the wound. It was just practice, and most of us were trying all events to see where we would fit in on the team. Coach Mooney cleaned up the scrape the best he could with his first aid box. The bleeding soon stopped and I still have a couple cinder chips in my left knee.

 

Anyway, we did have our home track meets at Hollis Field. I don't remember it as being that "dusty," but it was far from being a good track facility. There were bleachers on both sides of the field, but never many spectators. The 5-lap track made it difficult for me when I had to run on a 4-lap (440 yd./400 meter) track. Most of us still had fun at Hollis in spite of its failings. Where does North hold its home meets these days? Most tracks these days appear to have a rubberized asphalt surface instead of the old cinder/dirt. I never have run on such a track. My only running after high school was for the Navy right after high school as an unattached AAU runner, or now an occasional jog around the neighborhood. I tried to get to the Hollis Field in 2007, but was confused by the way they have one-way streets around it. It was easier when we walked from the school to the field "back in the day."

 

Regards, Shaker

 

Markin in response, September 24, 2010:

 

Shaker, thank you for your memory of the "dust bowl." I know, from a trip over to the old oval last year, that Cavanaugh was its real name. Strangely, after not having seen it for something over forty years it was basically the same. A little better surface on the track (although not much). They had taken out, and not replaced, the old wooden bleachers that were there in 1964.

 

Now for my "dust bowl" war story. This saga takes place during the spring track season in the seventh grade, which would be in 1959, when I competed for the newly-minted North Adamsville Junior High School (now Middle School). If you recall the dash was about one hundred yards and was in those middle school years the longest race junior runners could run. I assume, like with young girls and older women for an even longer period then, that the running gurus of the time, the august Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) probably thought that any greater stress than about eight yards would give us heart palpitations, or something. In any case, as I have mentioned before, I had the "slows" which were not so bad in longer races which required more stamina than speed but which would leave me in the dust in so short a race. Nevertheless I was determined to try it. Naturally, also being somewhat teenager clumsy I fell down, or was tripped, after the start of a dash. I took “cinders,” as you mentioned in your comment. Last year I had a knee replacement operation and noticed that the cinders were still there. I believe that I should get a "purple heart" and maybe a veteran’s pension or something, right? Do you have a "cinder" story?

 

Regards, Markin

 

Shaker Boren, Class of 1957, September 26, 2010:

 

That's what's good about getting more people involved in these message swaps. I stand corrected concerning the name of the old "dust bowl." Cavanaugh Stadium does ring a bell. Have they put that rubberized asphalt on the track?

I just remembered another incident that could have been fatal to one of our track team mates about the spring of 1957. The team's javelin throwers were practicing one day and one of the other guys took it upon himself to throw the javelin back to them from the other end of the field after each toss. The "returner" was waiting for one of their tosses when it seemed something off the field distracted him. The javelin grazed one of that "returner's" eyebrows, nicking him slightly. Talk about lucky. Another centimeter and the thing would have lodged in his eye socket and probably killed him. He didn't say much for a few minutes and had a very surprised expression on his face. I ran into that guy at our 50th reunion last year and asked if he remembered the incident. He laughed and said, "Oh, yeah. I haven't been the same since." He was another of our good all-round athletes and had a heck of a sense of humor. Good to see he still has it.

 

As an aside to that incident, I think it may have been Coach Dave Mooney who had told us that most high schools in the Western states didn't have the javelin throw as one of their events. That's still true today, at least here in San Jose. That scary incident at Cavanaugh Stadium kind of confirmed what he had said. Curiously, the discus probably isn't much safer.

Anyway, thanks for the correction.

 

Regards, Shaker

******

Markin response, September 28, 2010:

 

….Shaker- is there anyone who went on to that track [the dust bowl of blessed memory] (at least in the old days) who does not still have cinders somewhere on their body as a reminder of their youthful activity? I asked around about it and, naturally, one and all related their “cinder” experiences. Was this a "rite of passage" from the vengeful track gods and goddesses? I think you could still pick up some these days from what I saw of the track last year.

 

Okay, let’s keep what I have to say next between us. I have never known a javelin thrower, ah, a spear-chucker, or “returner” who had the sense that evolution has given geese. These guys (and nowadays, gals) lived in a world of their own, probably deep down in some recess caveman remembrance thing and that is probably why the Tarzan in the story you related barely remembered the incident. All I know was that whenever I ran, or meant to run, I checked, and checked carefully, to see if the javelin boys were “practicing.” If they were I, and other runners as I remember, would run out in the streets. It was safer there, honking horns and all, a lot safer. Hey, and the swarthy, whip-lashed, spin-dazzled discus throwers were not much better, believe me. In fact the only field men that had a lick of sense were the shot putters, although maybe I am giving them much the best of it. I do know I was sweet, secretly sweet, in order to protect my life even now on our number one shot putter Caveman McKenney’s girlfriend, Beth. But like I say let’s keep that between us. I think she married him.

 

Regards, Markin

 

And so it goes.