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Metal
Pants You think I make this stuff, up don't you? You don't really believe I'm giving you the straight poop about my legislative experiences in Salem, do you? Sorry, I don't possess enough creativity to imagine fiction that could match my bizarre world. Yes, that august mouthpiece of industry and valiant protector of SAIF, the Association of Oregon Industries (AOI) has prioritized their top consumer fraud bills of the session: SB466 and SB739. "Metal Underwear: It's not good for business!" their flier opines. These bills create "a crime of unlawful use of theft detection devices and banning the sale of certain types of goods at unused property markets." Wow, AOI's not foolin' around! Just think how helpful they could have been in uncovering the Enron/PGE auditing scams and the theft of their workers' pensions last year! The last time we heard from AOI, they were going save our budget bacon by doing away with the Covered Wagon Commission and the Ginseng Tea Commission. And, yes, HB3010 is "relating to steel erection." I mention this not so much to provoke prurient interests; I'm just hoping all the college readership of this column will rush to the Oregon Legislature's website (www.leg.state.or.us)to determine what the bill actually does thereby expanding their political intellectualism. Hint: It is not related to shoplifting or pharmaceuticals. We heard fascinating testimony last week in our Agriculture and Natural Resource Committee on SB385: prosecuting a crime called "ecosabotage" and removing the statute of limitation on this particular crime. Ecosabotage is not defined other than the "crime involves sabotage and is committed for the purpose of influencing, intimidating or coercing a person or unit of government in order to further environmental objectives." We had testimony from the deputy attorney general, a group called Stop Eco-Violence, the ACLU, the Sierra Club, and the Associated Oregon Loggers (AOL). There was compelling evidence of "eco-terrorism" in Oregon — 30 instances according to one witness — and AOL testified that attacks on logging operations had escalated with damage of about $1 million a year. A harvester-processor had wiring and hoses cut. An "eco-guerilla" partially severed a cable during the night; the next day as the rigging collapsed, a logging crew narrowly escaped injury or death. Ski-masked protestors scared a timber faller in a dangerous game of cat and mouse as a tree was falling. Even the OCA got involved — no, not that OCA, the other one, the Oregon Cattlemen's Association. Glen Stonebrink, their lobbyist, talked about ecosabotage in Eastern Oregon where registered livestock had been shot and killed with military-style weapons. Now, for the record, the OCA was the only group to testify against a bestiality bill in the 2001 session, so I give them wide berth. But I had to tell ol' Glen his example didn't sound like radical environmental behavior, it sounded more like red-neck bubba behavior. The Sierra Club's Martin Taylor thought the definition should be broadened to include any political sabotage. After all, he reasoned, look at the people who kill abortion providers or blow up federal buildings like Oklahoma City. Would they be included in this bill? Probably not. Dave Fidanque, who does such great work for the ACLU, raised several good issues: the proportionality of removing the statute of limitations on just this class of crime, the poor definition, the "content of political viewpoint" contained in the "environmental objectives" described in the law. The bill obviously needs a little help, so Chairman Frank Shields is forming a work group. It will be interesting to see if there's a compromise on this one. The lobbyists are getting a little cranky this time of session; the deadline to hear bills originating on the senate side is coming up in a few weeks. Rayna de Tortugas*, the hard-hearted irascible lobbyist I've told you about before, is at it again. She's the one who expressed such shock at my being handed a committee chairmanship — "Corcoran with a (bleep) gavel? Oh, my lord!" She recently met Jack Isselman, a brainy 37-year-old high tech attorney/CEO who was recently chosen by Gov. Kulongoski as his chairman of the Economic Development Commission. "Thirty-seven stinkin' years old?" she queried, "I've got underwear older than that!" A grim thought — but, what the hell, she's from Gateway in Crook County. *My spellchecker tried to change "Tortugas" to "tort gas." Honest. Sen. Tony Corcoran of Cottage Grove represents portions of Lane and Douglas counties in Senate District 4, which includes the UO area. He can be reached at sen.tonycorcoran@state.or.us
Need
a Fix "March Madness" isn't just for the NCAA. There's a more authentic kind of madness here in Lane County after the state cut funding for methadone therapy on March 1. Methadone is the most effective treatment for heroin addiction and taking it away from a heroin addict is like taking the control rods from a nuclear reactor. Until this month, hundreds of addicts in Lane County received a regular dose of methadone to reduce their craving for heroin. Off of methadone, the addict experiences agonizing withdrawal symptoms. More often than not, he resumes his heroin habit. As one county employee put it, "There's no methadone to our madness." Cuts necessitated by House Bill 5100 excluded methadone treatment from the coverage of the standard Oregon Health Plan (OHP), which is the state's insurance program for poor people. House Bill 5100 should have been called the "Full Employment Act for Heroin Dealers." Once the cuts took effect this month, the local HIV Alliance reported a three-fold increase in requests for needle exchanges — the most accurate indicator of heroin use in Lane County. We've already seen one attempted suicide by a local heroin addict who lost access to methadone. We'll probably see a rise in the number of deaths caused by heroin overdoses. In 1999, 34 people died of heroin overdoses in Lane County. When they resume their heroin habit, how do these addicts raise the money to pay for the costly drug? As Dean Witter might say, they do it the old-fashioned way: They earn it. Male heroin addicts resort to robbery and burglary. In fact, 90 percent of the men who commit robberies in Lane County are drug addicts. Female addicts resort to the oldest profession (prostitution) or the newest profession (identity theft). Bear in mind that the District Attorney's office can't prosecute several categories of property crime due to funding constraints. Look for property crime to become a "growth industry" in Lane County over the next few months. Does anyone seriously think that we're saving money by cutting funding for methadone? That's like saving a few bucks by refusing to put oil in your engine, and then buying a new engine when you throw a rod. All we're doing is transferring costs from the OHP to the criminal justice system and to the rest of the public health system. Last Wednesday the Board of County Commissioners learned that the Oregon Medical Association is trying to design a strategy for meeting the medical needs of Oregon's poor population. The OMA is seeking advice from a group of doctors that helps with medical crises in third world countries. Our state — once considered a national leader in innovating the Oregon Health Plan — is now looking to the Third World in order to improve medical treatment for Oregonians. While we're at it, maybe the Third World can provide some pointers on public education, too. Here's another idea: Why don't we pay taxes like the rest of the first world, so our government can provide first-world services to our citizenry? Tom Lininger is the county commissioner for the East Lane District.
Outside
the Box My family was the last on our East Los Angeles street to have no TV. I recall being surprised when a friend asked me what I did in the evening without one. She might as well have asked what I did in the evening without a camel. "I cut and paste pictures out of magazines," I remember answering, though hopefully I came up with more than that. My brother Bob, four years older, wasn't so content. He pieced together a TV out of parts he found behind a local electronics store, and brought it home. It would work on any given evening for about a half hour before it fuzzed out, so Bob chose the show each night. Watching TV seemed odd to me: It reduced my world to a screen and Bob's taste in programs. I had other things to do. We later got a TV that worked, but the shows never seemed alive. If I wasn't going to be a Mouseketeer, why watch them? Why not dance rather than watching others on American Bandstand? Elvis sang one night on the Ed Sullivan show. The sex came through, but then again, boys at school were closer at hand. A few years later, I left for college and haven't owned a TV since. One afternoon, when my son Josh was wending his way through the world of primary school, he announced to me that he was understanding almost everything at school. "But," he added, "when I don't understand something somebody says, I ask them if it's from a TV show, and it is." In his typical manner, Josh was simply making an observation and moving on. (Once, at age 4, he was watching TV at his grandmother's house when she walked into the room. "O'B calls these cartoons and Mary calls them crap," he happily explained.) Like my brother, my younger son, Zeke, wasn't content with being TV-less, so he set about earning money to remedy the situation. Starting at age eight, he had what amounted to a child's dream job: helping out with odd jobs at a local video game parlor. By age 15, he was lugging home a TV. O'B and I told him he'd earned the money, so he could have the TV, but it had to stay in his bedroom. With nobody else interested in watching it with him, it was a fairly lonely pursuit. "O'B, could you store this TV in your office?" Zeke asked about three months later. "I could bring it home for things like the Olympics." "Why don't you want it in your room anymore?" O'B asked. "I'm not getting anything done," Zeke replied. The TV did come home once again, for about two weeks, until O'B came home one afternoon to find it mangled. "Zeke," O'B asked, "why did you smash the TV?" "I don't want to watch it," he said. "Well, couldn't you have given it away or sold it?" O'B asked. In true Carrie Nation fashion, Zeke explained he didn't want other people to watch it, either. To this day, O'B and Zeke can occasionally be found at the Wild Duck, thoroughly enjoying a football game on TV. As for me, in the last 40 years I believe I've watched TV four times, including one afternoon on the Bush Administration's policy of waging wars on non-warring nations. I was reminded once again why I don't watch TV, even when commercials aren't present: I like doing other things better — like writing to the U.N. Security Council encouraging them to oppose wars of preemption. Somehow, the real world seems far more interesting, complex, funny, damaged, spectacular and engaging in person. Sometimes I think, "If I knew I was dying, what would I wish I had done more of during my life?" Would I wish I had spent more time watching wild animals and plants? Yes. Would I wish I had taken more time to walk? Yes. Would I wish I had watched more than 10 hours of TV in 40 years? No. Mary O'Brien has worked as a public interest scientist for the past 20 years. She can be reached at mob@efn.org
Purim It's Purim time! On this most un-somber of Jewish festivities, synagogues hold wild, wacky parties where everyone traipses around cross-dressed as biblical queens and kings. We honor Queen Esther whose saga hinges on whether to continue "passing" or to disclose her Jewish identity. Coming out and high drag – Purim's the ultimate LesBiGayTransQueer holiday. Every year we read aloud the Megillah – the book of Esther – from beginning to end. Whenever the name of the villain, Haman (Boo!) is spoken, everyone boos and shakes noise makers and engages in mob behavior that during the rest of the year would get us pepper sprayed. Here's the story. In my own words. In ancient Persia the economy was bad and unemployment was high. There lived a nice Jewish girl named Esther who passed as a gentile to land a good-paying job as the Queen of Shushan. The King of Shushan, a kind but not too bright guy, chose Esther after auditioning all the maidens in the land, and never once thought of signing with Fox TV. King Airhead (not his real name) was completely unaware of Esther's ancestral orientation. Little orphan Esther was adopted by her uncle Mordechai, making him the first state-sanctioned single dad – although he may have had a roommate. Mordechai, a social justice activist, refused to bow to King Airhead or Airhead's royal adviser, the wicked Haman (Boo!). Mordechai's insubordination pissed off Haman (Boo!) big time. Haman (Boo!) tried to dig up dirt on Mordechai. The investigation cost taxpayers big bucks but revealed only that Mordechai was Jewish. Not that Mordechai's "lifestyle" was any big secret, but Haman (Boo!) seized on that scrap of dish and brought it to the King. King Airhead, living in the royal palace as he did, was out of touch with diversity in the Shushan community. He didn't even know what Jews were, let alone that they lived all around him, teaching in the schools, sorting mail, running veterinary clinics and whatnot. Haman (Boo!) dissed the Jews bad. He made up all kinds of nasty rumors and ranted on talk radio about Mordechai and his people being – horror of horrors – unpatriotic. Lacking enough signatures to launch another ballot measure campaign, Haman (Boo!) held a big press conference. Town criers soon parroted the party line throughout the land: Jews threatened kingdom security. Haman (Boo!) told the King the only way to safeguard the realm was to kill the Jews. King Airhead, giddy with power, issued a Code Sepia alert. He gave Haman (Boo!) permission to send out an official edict for the slaughter, which they dubbed Operation Enduring Family Values. The edict scared and confused the people of Shushan. They ran out and bought armloads of duct tape which they affixed to their door posts in hopes of being passed over (another holiday). Mordechai warned his niece Esther, who had been enjoying an oblivious life of palace comfort. Told of the evil plot, Esther snapped out of her privileged stupor, "If they kill all the Jews, they'll kill us!" "No shit, Sherlock!" Mordechai said in ancient Aramaic. "Go tell the King you're a Jew. He loves you." Coming out wouldn't be easy. It could cost Esther her job and access to the royal SUV. But if she kept her identity secret, she'd lose Uncle Mordechai, not to mention a three-thousand year book deal! Esther threw a banquet, her own coming out party. She invited everyone in the palace including the King and Haman (Boo!). While the guests guzzled royal microbrew and grooved to Shushan tunes, Esther made her move. She told the King that if Haman (Boo!) killed the Jews, his beloved bride would be killed, too. King Airhead got the picture, fired Haman (Boo!) and hired a new royal advisor who was hip to diversity issues – Mordechai. Together, they banned discrimination of all kinds (Yay!). But they knew how people tend to forget, so they decreed the story be retold every year. Like now. Sally Sheklow teaches essay writing and magazine writing at LCC downtown. Spring classes begin April 1. Details at www.lanecc.edu.
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