Hilda and I had a decent weekend. I went to her house after work on Saturday (about noon) and repaired the drywall in her mom's bedroom and the kitchen. We went to Little Anthony's Diner for a late lunch, spent some time at the house and went to the Gaslight Theater for the late performance of "GNAT MAN". It was a riot. It was a musical comedy version of the old Batman TV series. We hissed the villains, cheered Gnat-Man and Gnat-Girl and had a fine old time. Sunday, we watched an old Robert Wagner movie (pretty bad one) that was filmed in Tucson in 1955-1956. It was really neat seeing some of the buildings and landmarks as they looked 50 years ago when Tucson was a small town.
O.K. now. I have been in a few conversations of late with Beau Chantz, Reinhardt Yu and Marla Chantz that got me to thinking about why (and how) I am different from the rest of middle America. I mean ... seriously folks ... we all know that I am weird. The question is HOW weird?
By-the-bye ... did you realize that WEIRD is one of the words that disprove the ancient adage of 7th Grade English "I before E, except after C"? And ancient is another. But, back to my subject, ... I do have one I think.
Firstly: .... that's always a good place to start ... secondly should follow ... please forgive my rambling, it is late and I am in a great mood.
Anyhow ...... let's take words. I am irritated to the max about "you're vs. your" ... gives me conniptions at times. Also, I am aghast at EBONICS ... either you talk English or you do not. My English is not what I would prefer it to be and I lapse into southern speak/cowboy-ese/local vernacular/ et cetera at the most inopportune times of late. My only defense is the onset of old age and possible Altzheimers or just regression into childhood bad habits. If you want to be a citizen of this great country of mine [... ours?] ... learn the language. We should not publish driving regulations, voting information, welfare information, et al in ANY OTHER language. No other countries do this ... why should we?
Secondly ... we got there finally didn't we, .. LOL (I tell you, I am in a funny mood). But ... let's take television. As Charles Dickens wrote "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times". Is there anything on ABC, NBC, CBS, WB, or FOX (outside of sports) that I find interesting or enjoyable? NO ! As far as I can remember (Altzheimers ... remember my last paragraph). Then WHY DO I HAVE 2 ???? Well, in my defense, there are: The History Channel, The Food Channel, Spike, Bravo, A & E, Discovery, The Learning Channel, The Travel Channel, Outdoor Life, FOX News, ESPN's 1, 2 ad infinitum, and American Movie Classics.
Thirdly .. or, so on and so forth ..... I am UNDER whelmed by what passes in this country and this day and age as BEAUTY. I see beauty in almost everyone. It is easier to see .. if the person you are looking at has any semblance of pride in their appearance. It is harder (but not impossible) to see, if the person is sloppy or unkempt or has no idea how to dress ... I see that a lot. I look back at pictures of people that I thought were attractive (or not attractive) in the days of my youth and I am amazed at my naiveté, conceit, and my lack of recognition of the the items that constitute, or any understanding of the true prerequisites of, beauty. I find almost no actresses extant "beautiful", although Jorja Fox of CSI is certainly one of the most interesting. Indeed, to my way of thinking, Rachel Ray of the Food Channel's "30 Minute Meals" is Jorja's equal in the interesting department. I have (what my friends have named) the Rigney Beauty Scale. There is:
10) Beautiful (can't think of anyone right off who is in this category)
9) Stunning
8) Impressive
7) Interesting
6) Pretty
5) Attractive
4) Fresh
3) Cute
2) Sweet
1) Needs assistance, bless her heart ... (this category includes most actresses, models, TV Anchors and assorted trailer trash)
There is nothing lower than 1, except for cheap hookers, druggies and certain celebrities such as Hillary, Madeline Albright, Anna Nicole Smith, Oprah and a few others.
I know that there are many other differences between me and the rest of today's society, but that's enough for now.
Arizona caught my eye, and my heart, many years ago. I love it ... it's people, history and it's desert.
09 July 2006
Fred Reed
There is a man who was raised in Virginia, like me, went to Hampden-Sydney College and was raised a Presbyterian. That alone makes me like him. He has been a war correspondent, magazine and newspaper writer and other things. He now lives north of Lago Chapala in Guadalajara, MEX. He writes a column on the Internet ... which I link on my page, and this is his column for 9 July. I enjoy Fred, like a lot of what he writes, agree with him MOST of the time, and I bow to his thoughts at times.
July 9, 2006
One hears often now that boys flounder in school, drop out, generally perform less well academically than girls, and don’t go to college. A certain amount of this commentary comes from women who seem quietly to enjoy the spectacle. Given that women control the schools, this might suggest that, if they are not actually causing the problem, neither are they in a hurry to do anything about it. Other people worry that the comparative superabundance of female college graduates will have no one to marry: While men will marry down, women won’t. Regarding all of which:
The cause is not that boys are stupid. Boys have higher average scores than do girls on standardized tests, for example, and at the high end are far ahead of the girls. Putting it straightforwardly, the very smart are predominantly male, particularly in mathematics, and the exceedingly smart, almost entirely so. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to think it fair. But it is a fact, and everybody in the field knows it.
Consider. The maximum score on each half of the SATs, both verbal and mathematical, is 800. You have to be, or had to be until the tests were recently dumbed down (“recentered,” I meant to say,“recentered.”), quite bright to score an 800. In 1999, when I checked because I was writing a column, 1611 girls in the country scored 800 on the math section; 4815 boys did. Verbal? Girls, 2828; boys, 3087. The male average on the math SATs was 531. The female was 495. That's not a trivial difference. Verbal scores? Males 509, females 502. The latter difference is slight and probably attributable the larger numbers of girls taking the test. The difference in math scores isn’t..
This embarrassing disparity has been widely known at least since the publication of Camilla Benbow’s paper in 1980 from Johns Hopkins. It remains despite alteration of tests (for example, National Merit) specifically to improve the scores of females, despite “recentering” of the SATs to make women and minorities look better at the high end. So what is the problem?
Whatever it is, it is new. I graduated in 1964 from a mediocre high school in rural Virginia. Demographically it was a bit of a curiosity. Many of the students were children of scientists and navy officers from Dahlgren Naval Weapons Laboratory, and the rest rough country kids. There was no discrimination by sex in the curriculum, incidentally: All in the college track took two years of algebra, a year of plane geometry, and a year of solid and trig, for example. If your parents had gone to college, you went to college, regardless of sex. All the kids of educated parents graduated, and almost all of the others. The exceptions were a few truly witless boys (boys predominate at the low end of intelligence too).
There was no “boy crisis.” The girls made better grades, the boys better scores on standardized tests. There was no yawning gap.
In short, girls haven’t come up. They have always done well in school. Boys have gone down. Why?
I can guess. Boys are churning wads of energy. They are physical and competitive. They want to climb things, test themselves, jump off of things, explore, drive fast, fight, behave like damn fools, and sack cities. In later years this energy may serve them well, but not yet. School is hellish for them, with its year after year of sitting, bored out of their skulls, while some drone babbles. It is worse for the bright, verging on child abuse. They hate it. I did.
Girls are more orderly, patient, accept rules with less resistance, and do their homework. They have better handwriting and cut pictures from magazines to paste into projects. They finish assignments on time. In general girls are easier to deal with, certainly for the female teachers who now are almost the only teachers.
Now, 1964 was very different from today. Families were intact. I do not remember a single kid whose parents had been divorced. There was therefore a man in the house. Adolescent boys are wild men. A man can control them. A divorced woman often has a hard time controlling daughters.
There were men in the schools. We had a hard-eyed male principal, Larry Roller or, as we called him, Chrome Dome. You did not screw with Roller. He could, and would, expel on the spot any boy who seriously transgressed. (Girls just didn’t commit expellable offenses.) This of course meant that he almost never expelled anyone: We were teenagers, not suicides.
Discipline was not harsh. The boys clowned in class and engaged in pranks (I may know somewhat of this), but we knew where the limits were. There were a goodly number of male teachers, which helped us know the limits.
Further, parents would back up the teachers without question. If I had said, “Fuck you” to a teacher, the French Foreign Legion would have been my only choice. Facing my father would have been—how shall I put it?—unproductive.
Boys need someone who can control them until, in a few years, the internal controls are in place. Women can’t do it. Therefore we have police in the schools, and we drug boys into somnolence with amphetamines. Parents, instead of even trying to control their kids, will litigate.
Boys cease to be students and become problems, so teachers don’t like them.
Further, in the schools today we have feminization, feminization, feminization. Instead of treating girls like girls, and boys like boys, all are expected to be girls. It doesn’t work. Boys by their very nature like to roughhouse. They like contact sports. You don’t have to force them to play football. They are competitive. Women don’t understand this, and what they don’t understand, they outlaw. Today estrogenated school after estrogenated school bans dodge ball as too dangerous, outlaws tag (“They get too rough,” meaning too rough for Mrs. Teacher), and insists on “groups games led by a caring adult.”
It is hideous for boys. Everything they are, it isn’t. “Ohhhhh, let’s have a caring non-competitive game….” If he is really bright, with an IQ north of 150, he will decide that his teachers are idiots, which most of them are, and withdraw. There will be a price for this one day.
You want to end the “boy crisis”? Easy. Give boys male teachers who understand boys and care about them. Women do neither. Let them compete. It’s how they are. Encourage them to burn off energy in the gym. Reward achievement, not pretty projects. Turn them into men, not transvestites.
Nahhh, never happen.
Fred Reed
July 9, 2006
One hears often now that boys flounder in school, drop out, generally perform less well academically than girls, and don’t go to college. A certain amount of this commentary comes from women who seem quietly to enjoy the spectacle. Given that women control the schools, this might suggest that, if they are not actually causing the problem, neither are they in a hurry to do anything about it. Other people worry that the comparative superabundance of female college graduates will have no one to marry: While men will marry down, women won’t. Regarding all of which:
The cause is not that boys are stupid. Boys have higher average scores than do girls on standardized tests, for example, and at the high end are far ahead of the girls. Putting it straightforwardly, the very smart are predominantly male, particularly in mathematics, and the exceedingly smart, almost entirely so. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to think it fair. But it is a fact, and everybody in the field knows it.
Consider. The maximum score on each half of the SATs, both verbal and mathematical, is 800. You have to be, or had to be until the tests were recently dumbed down (“recentered,” I meant to say,“recentered.”), quite bright to score an 800. In 1999, when I checked because I was writing a column, 1611 girls in the country scored 800 on the math section; 4815 boys did. Verbal? Girls, 2828; boys, 3087. The male average on the math SATs was 531. The female was 495. That's not a trivial difference. Verbal scores? Males 509, females 502. The latter difference is slight and probably attributable the larger numbers of girls taking the test. The difference in math scores isn’t..
This embarrassing disparity has been widely known at least since the publication of Camilla Benbow’s paper in 1980 from Johns Hopkins. It remains despite alteration of tests (for example, National Merit) specifically to improve the scores of females, despite “recentering” of the SATs to make women and minorities look better at the high end. So what is the problem?
Whatever it is, it is new. I graduated in 1964 from a mediocre high school in rural Virginia. Demographically it was a bit of a curiosity. Many of the students were children of scientists and navy officers from Dahlgren Naval Weapons Laboratory, and the rest rough country kids. There was no discrimination by sex in the curriculum, incidentally: All in the college track took two years of algebra, a year of plane geometry, and a year of solid and trig, for example. If your parents had gone to college, you went to college, regardless of sex. All the kids of educated parents graduated, and almost all of the others. The exceptions were a few truly witless boys (boys predominate at the low end of intelligence too).
There was no “boy crisis.” The girls made better grades, the boys better scores on standardized tests. There was no yawning gap.
In short, girls haven’t come up. They have always done well in school. Boys have gone down. Why?
I can guess. Boys are churning wads of energy. They are physical and competitive. They want to climb things, test themselves, jump off of things, explore, drive fast, fight, behave like damn fools, and sack cities. In later years this energy may serve them well, but not yet. School is hellish for them, with its year after year of sitting, bored out of their skulls, while some drone babbles. It is worse for the bright, verging on child abuse. They hate it. I did.
Girls are more orderly, patient, accept rules with less resistance, and do their homework. They have better handwriting and cut pictures from magazines to paste into projects. They finish assignments on time. In general girls are easier to deal with, certainly for the female teachers who now are almost the only teachers.
Now, 1964 was very different from today. Families were intact. I do not remember a single kid whose parents had been divorced. There was therefore a man in the house. Adolescent boys are wild men. A man can control them. A divorced woman often has a hard time controlling daughters.
There were men in the schools. We had a hard-eyed male principal, Larry Roller or, as we called him, Chrome Dome. You did not screw with Roller. He could, and would, expel on the spot any boy who seriously transgressed. (Girls just didn’t commit expellable offenses.) This of course meant that he almost never expelled anyone: We were teenagers, not suicides.
Discipline was not harsh. The boys clowned in class and engaged in pranks (I may know somewhat of this), but we knew where the limits were. There were a goodly number of male teachers, which helped us know the limits.
Further, parents would back up the teachers without question. If I had said, “Fuck you” to a teacher, the French Foreign Legion would have been my only choice. Facing my father would have been—how shall I put it?—unproductive.
Boys need someone who can control them until, in a few years, the internal controls are in place. Women can’t do it. Therefore we have police in the schools, and we drug boys into somnolence with amphetamines. Parents, instead of even trying to control their kids, will litigate.
Boys cease to be students and become problems, so teachers don’t like them.
Further, in the schools today we have feminization, feminization, feminization. Instead of treating girls like girls, and boys like boys, all are expected to be girls. It doesn’t work. Boys by their very nature like to roughhouse. They like contact sports. You don’t have to force them to play football. They are competitive. Women don’t understand this, and what they don’t understand, they outlaw. Today estrogenated school after estrogenated school bans dodge ball as too dangerous, outlaws tag (“They get too rough,” meaning too rough for Mrs. Teacher), and insists on “groups games led by a caring adult.”
It is hideous for boys. Everything they are, it isn’t. “Ohhhhh, let’s have a caring non-competitive game….” If he is really bright, with an IQ north of 150, he will decide that his teachers are idiots, which most of them are, and withdraw. There will be a price for this one day.
You want to end the “boy crisis”? Easy. Give boys male teachers who understand boys and care about them. Women do neither. Let them compete. It’s how they are. Encourage them to burn off energy in the gym. Reward achievement, not pretty projects. Turn them into men, not transvestites.
Nahhh, never happen.
Fred Reed
Reply to my lovely aunt
On Jul 8, 2006, Elsie Eanes, my late Father's sister and a sweet lady .... wrote me:
TONY,
ARE ANY OF THESE CHILDREN, ETC. YOUR BIOLOGICAL CHILDREN? THEY ALL APPEAR TO BE TOTALLY MEXICAN OR INDIAN. I THINK I REMEMBER MARY [NOTE: That is my mom. - Antonio] TELLING ME THAT YOU MARRIED (I THINK OR WERE LIVING WITH) A MEXICAN WOMAN WHO HAD 4 CHILDREN. AM I WRONG?
LOVE, ELSIE
My answer follows:
No, none of my children are biologically mine. I adopted them a quarter of a century ago, 1980 I think. They are all Rigneys though. Mary Jane (M.J.) and Estaben (Steve) are Mexican and Indian. Joseph is Mexican and white. Alberto (Albert or Bert) is Mexican and Puerto Rican. My nietos Jasmine Monique, Stevie, Diego, Antonio Levi, and Angel are Mexican and Indian. Abel Anthony and Devin are Mexican, Indian and white. But ... as is probably the case with ALL adopted children, they are MINE. I was married to a Mexican lady for 23 years, and yes ... we lived together for 3 years before we were married. I have never thought of my kids as anything but ... my kids. Some are great and one is nothing but trouble, but they are mine.
The lady that I am going with now, my novia (fiance), is 3/4 Mexican and 1/4 French. Her name is Hilda Jean Riesgo Reiser. Reiser was her married name. Her maiden name is pronounced Ree-es-go. Her French tata (grandfather), Enrique LaRouque lived in Mexico most of his life. In fact, he was on the Mexican version of the Border Patrol. Her mother's maiden name was Esperanza (Hope) LaRoque, but Hope is Mexican in all manner of her raising even though her father was French. Hilda has a 21 year old daughter, Amanda Hope Reiser, who is Mexican and white and is going with a white guy at present, although she has dated Mexicans, blacks and Indians previously.
People's "nationalities" or races does not seem that important, nor come into conversation so much here in our area. There are black/white, black/Mexican, white/Mexican, Oriental/Mexican, Oriental/white, etc. ad infitum. couples and kids all over Tucson. I work with a United Nations of people in my position. William Payne (called Payne), a 20 something year old white boy from Alabama has a black wife. Arnoldo, a Mexican from the other side, has a black girl friend. Carmen, a Mexican, has a Samoan boyfriend, while some Mexicans have white wives and some whites have Mexican spouses. A friend of mine, Robert, who is black, has a Mexican girlfriend while his brother has an oriental girlfriend. Another friend, a Vietnamese, has a white wife while his sister is dating a Tohono O'Ohdom guy. Most people who have been here a while are, at least partially, bi-lingual. Some of Tucson's LARGE oriental population is tri-ligual, speaking either Chinese or Japanese (usually the former) and English and Spanish. We have a large population of Mexicans, Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, Greek, Polish, Italian, Indian (from India) and of course Native American Indian (two reservations here in the area). There is the Pascua Yaqui and Tohono O'Odom (used to be called Papago) presence here in town along with the Navajo, Hopi, Apache, etc. populations. I have friends who are of all nationalities and races and with some it is hard to tell what the dominant one is. I do know thatvery few of my close friends are white. But that has more to do with my former marriage and my current girlfriend than with any conscious desire to be with one group or another. I judge people by what they are. I am an equal opportunity hater. I hate some Mexicans and some blacks and some whites and even one or two orientals.
There is, however, a distinct difference in attitude among the population ... even the Mexican population ... about the illegal Mexican population. Most people here, except the young black and illegal population and some flaming Liberals, think that we should get rid of La Otras (the others) ... the illegal population.
Hope that this clarifies things for you folks back in Virginia.
Your loving nephew Antonio (Tony) Rigney
much Love From The Desert
TONY,
ARE ANY OF THESE CHILDREN, ETC. YOUR BIOLOGICAL CHILDREN? THEY ALL APPEAR TO BE TOTALLY MEXICAN OR INDIAN. I THINK I REMEMBER MARY [NOTE: That is my mom. - Antonio] TELLING ME THAT YOU MARRIED (I THINK OR WERE LIVING WITH) A MEXICAN WOMAN WHO HAD 4 CHILDREN. AM I WRONG?
LOVE, ELSIE
My answer follows:
No, none of my children are biologically mine. I adopted them a quarter of a century ago, 1980 I think. They are all Rigneys though. Mary Jane (M.J.) and Estaben (Steve) are Mexican and Indian. Joseph is Mexican and white. Alberto (Albert or Bert) is Mexican and Puerto Rican. My nietos Jasmine Monique, Stevie, Diego, Antonio Levi, and Angel are Mexican and Indian. Abel Anthony and Devin are Mexican, Indian and white. But ... as is probably the case with ALL adopted children, they are MINE. I was married to a Mexican lady for 23 years, and yes ... we lived together for 3 years before we were married. I have never thought of my kids as anything but ... my kids. Some are great and one is nothing but trouble, but they are mine.
The lady that I am going with now, my novia (fiance), is 3/4 Mexican and 1/4 French. Her name is Hilda Jean Riesgo Reiser. Reiser was her married name. Her maiden name is pronounced Ree-es-go. Her French tata (grandfather), Enrique LaRouque lived in Mexico most of his life. In fact, he was on the Mexican version of the Border Patrol. Her mother's maiden name was Esperanza (Hope) LaRoque, but Hope is Mexican in all manner of her raising even though her father was French. Hilda has a 21 year old daughter, Amanda Hope Reiser, who is Mexican and white and is going with a white guy at present, although she has dated Mexicans, blacks and Indians previously.
People's "nationalities" or races does not seem that important, nor come into conversation so much here in our area. There are black/white, black/Mexican, white/Mexican, Oriental/Mexican, Oriental/white, etc. ad infitum. couples and kids all over Tucson. I work with a United Nations of people in my position. William Payne (called Payne), a 20 something year old white boy from Alabama has a black wife. Arnoldo, a Mexican from the other side, has a black girl friend. Carmen, a Mexican, has a Samoan boyfriend, while some Mexicans have white wives and some whites have Mexican spouses. A friend of mine, Robert, who is black, has a Mexican girlfriend while his brother has an oriental girlfriend. Another friend, a Vietnamese, has a white wife while his sister is dating a Tohono O'Ohdom guy. Most people who have been here a while are, at least partially, bi-lingual. Some of Tucson's LARGE oriental population is tri-ligual, speaking either Chinese or Japanese (usually the former) and English and Spanish. We have a large population of Mexicans, Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, Greek, Polish, Italian, Indian (from India) and of course Native American Indian (two reservations here in the area). There is the Pascua Yaqui and Tohono O'Odom (used to be called Papago) presence here in town along with the Navajo, Hopi, Apache, etc. populations. I have friends who are of all nationalities and races and with some it is hard to tell what the dominant one is. I do know thatvery few of my close friends are white. But that has more to do with my former marriage and my current girlfriend than with any conscious desire to be with one group or another. I judge people by what they are. I am an equal opportunity hater. I hate some Mexicans and some blacks and some whites and even one or two orientals.
There is, however, a distinct difference in attitude among the population ... even the Mexican population ... about the illegal Mexican population. Most people here, except the young black and illegal population and some flaming Liberals, think that we should get rid of La Otras (the others) ... the illegal population.
Hope that this clarifies things for you folks back in Virginia.
Your loving nephew Antonio (Tony) Rigney
much Love From The Desert
07 July 2006
Desert Rain
It rained on our summer solstice this year.
We, here in the desert southwest, are in no position to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. The creosote was brown and near-dead prickly pear dangled along the streets in the Old Pueblo. I've never witnessed that before.
The classic, perfect and traditional starting date for our monsoon season is San Juan's Day (my ex's birthday) June 24th. According to legend, if the monsoon season starts on San Juan's Day ... it'll be plentiful. But if it starts before the 24th, some sort of disaster may be in our future. If it starts after the 24th, it'll be a "dry" monsoon season. Some sort of disaster may be in our future ... but we're used to that. The developers keep developing and the builders keep building and the real estate salesmen keep selling. The bankers and politicians keep telling us everything is O.K. and we keep believing them. But, by the time we here in the desert start drinking sewage ... they'll all be living in luxury in southern California anyway. But ... that's in the far off future. Maybe global warming will work for us, and we won't have to start living like the characters in DUNE after all. A savior may show up ... or maybe just giant Sand Worms.
But, for now, we have water. Not a lot yet, but more June rains than we are used to. And in July, it has been raining daily at my humble abode. However, the poor airport isn't doing as well as we eastsiders are and the official precipitation numbers aren't as good as ours. Today, we had our first REAL monsoon. Buckets full for over an hour. What a great afternoon! Too bad that I was working. I have to work tomorrow, but only until mid-day. So, hopefully, I'll get to walk in the rain in the afternoon. I certainly hope that you-all (you guys) are enjoying your weather as much as I am enjoying mine.
Peace.
Love from the desert
We, here in the desert southwest, are in no position to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. The creosote was brown and near-dead prickly pear dangled along the streets in the Old Pueblo. I've never witnessed that before.
The classic, perfect and traditional starting date for our monsoon season is San Juan's Day (my ex's birthday) June 24th. According to legend, if the monsoon season starts on San Juan's Day ... it'll be plentiful. But if it starts before the 24th, some sort of disaster may be in our future. If it starts after the 24th, it'll be a "dry" monsoon season. Some sort of disaster may be in our future ... but we're used to that. The developers keep developing and the builders keep building and the real estate salesmen keep selling. The bankers and politicians keep telling us everything is O.K. and we keep believing them. But, by the time we here in the desert start drinking sewage ... they'll all be living in luxury in southern California anyway. But ... that's in the far off future. Maybe global warming will work for us, and we won't have to start living like the characters in DUNE after all. A savior may show up ... or maybe just giant Sand Worms.
But, for now, we have water. Not a lot yet, but more June rains than we are used to. And in July, it has been raining daily at my humble abode. However, the poor airport isn't doing as well as we eastsiders are and the official precipitation numbers aren't as good as ours. Today, we had our first REAL monsoon. Buckets full for over an hour. What a great afternoon! Too bad that I was working. I have to work tomorrow, but only until mid-day. So, hopefully, I'll get to walk in the rain in the afternoon. I certainly hope that you-all (you guys) are enjoying your weather as much as I am enjoying mine.
Peace.
Love from the desert
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