Off the Record 7/8/2025

MENTAL HEALTH CONSERVATORSHIPS

by Mark Scaramella

At last Tuesday’s Board of Supervisors meeting after the big Annexation Cancellation agenda item, there was a discussion of the County’s “C.O.R.E.” (Community Outreach Response & Engagement) program in which the Sheriff’s Office, Behavioral Health, and Social Services are conducting a pilot program (ten people so far) to see if they can deal with some of the more difficult street people in the Ukiah Valley with more compassion. After the presentation Supervisor Bernie Norvell asked Behavioral Health Director Dr. Jenine Miller about conservatorships.

“The weakest link in the system that these officers are forced to work under is that the system is voluntary,” said Norvell. “So, as hard as they try, it’s not easy to help people. Can you describe what happens when you encounter a person who’s living on the street and is mentally ill and using drugs and refusing services? All those things that the public sees? What are the hurdles you face with conservatorships? How successful have you been with them?”

Miller: Conservatorships. There are different types of conservatorships. There are temporary ones that are done on the mental health side. There’s permanent ones that are done on the social services side. Those are more about cognitive decline than they are mental illness — people who are unable to meet their basic needs of food, shelter, and clothing. To consider someone for a mental health conservatorship, they have to meet the criteria for a mental health diagnosis of a grave disability. You have to meet the criteria on the level that you are not able to handle your basic needs, that the medication you are being offered is not able to get you back to your baseline. It’s not something we can easily do. First, you have to have the individual assessed by a licensed clinician or psychiatrist to determine if the individual needs conservatorship. A professional does that. Then, if they do, you have to go to court. The court determines if someone meets the criteria. We have contracted professionals to do the assessments. We then notify the court and the court can then agree or disagree with us. The individual has a right to a trial, a jury trial or a judge trial. They have a right to a petition every six months to have their conservatorship reviewed. There have been times when we wanted to conserve people and we have lost in court. If they can go to court and present that they look better and they will do better if medicated and they can show that they have a plan to care for themselves we may not win. Therefore, they may not be conserved or they may get released from conservatorship. Sometimes also we struggle with third parties. People have a right to offer a third-party who can say that they will be there to help the person. We usually don’t win if they have a third-party unless we can prove that the third-party really isn’t able to care for the individual. What usually happens is the third-party will show up and they are either successful or unsuccessful and then if they are unsuccessful, we have to conserve them or reconserve them. Then sometimes the third-party will come back again and offer to be released from third-party responsibility. But it really comes down to meeting that criteria and for everyone to agree to the criteria and the assessment and be able to know that you can go to court, and the individual can represent that they can meet their basic needs and that they have a plan. A lot of times they will look at that. We have been relatively successful with conservatorships, considering our per capita. I have worked with the courts and we have conserved a lot of people. On any given day in Mendocino County we have about 64 people conserved, which is a lot when you compare it to counties across the state. That does not mean we are over-conserving, but we are conserving people who meet the criteria. I’m sure there are other individuals out there who need to be conserved. The first time we try we usually don’t get conservatorships. You have to be able to show that they have a history of not being able to take care of themselves. But we do conserve more than other counties. We provide free shelter and clothing when we can. We’ve had conversations about that and it doesn’t always happen. It’s a process. There was a case where we fought to keep the person from being released from conservatorship. They were on a temporary conservatorship. And then we had to follow that up with an application for permanent conservatorship and we had to prepare the case and do all the assessments and the individual was released from conservatorship by the Court. We knew that immediately after that we would get a call any day and we did. Twenty-four hours after this person was released we got a call asking why in the world did we release this person? We said that we didn’t release them, it was the court. It’s not always easy. Sometimes it’s not our decision. It’s up to the experts and the court and they have a public defender representing them in court to advocate for them in their best interest.

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MAZIE MALONE

Let’s talk about what’s missing from this conversation on conservatorships:

It’s not just that the process is difficult, it’s that it takes too long, and by the time someone qualifies as “gravely disabled,” the damage is already done. Families beg for help. People cycle through 5150 holds, jails, and shelters. And even when someone is conserved, it doesn’t guarantee stability, safety, or long-term treatment. The reality is, we wait too long to intervene, and too many people fall through the cracks.

Also, the system is confusing on purpose.

People think “grave disability” and 5150 are separate, but they’re actually connected: a person can be placed on a 5150 hold because they meet grave disability criteria. The difference is, for conservatorship, you need a psychiatrist to submit a full petition and go through court.

Here is what is not mentioned,

We now have SB 43, which expands the definition of grave disability to include people who cannot care for their own medical needs due to serious mental illness or addiction, making earlier intervention more possible. And then there’s CARE Court (Prop 1), which, if used properly, could be a way to reach people before they deteriorate to the point of needing full conservatorship.

Instead of relying on a slow, court-heavy conservatorship process, we could use these newer tools to actually support people earlier before they get hurt, before families fall apart, before it’s too late.

The system is capable of doing better. We just have to stop pretending that dragging people through endless red tape is care.

The CORE program uses a tier system to supposedly determine levels of care but if you look at the actual chart, it sets up expectations that people in deep crisis simply can’t meet. Folks dealing with serious mental illness or co-occurring issues aren’t going to be able to follow these steps on their own. They need consistent, hands-on support and encouragement something the system doesn’t typically provide. The criteria end up being so rigid and difficult, it reminds me of the way the Assisted Outpatient Treatment program is structured—on paper it looks like help, in reality it is another ballgame that these individuals will not win.

SUPERVISOR MAUREEN MULHEREN:

If you’re interested in listening to both sides of the Annexation conversation here are a couple of Links:

Shannon Riley, Deputy City Manager from City of Ukiah on Like it Or Not and Ross Liberty from the No on Annexation campaign on TKO Wednesday 6/25 at 9am https://jukebox.kzyx.org

https://youtu.be/5pVpkGgZQik?si=2TNwHt-S8wafBZ88

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IN THE VIDEO, among many other things, Riley insists that under the existing tax sharing agreement the County would not lose any existing taxes, only new ones for new developments or taxes that apply to the city that would increase when they apply to annexed areas. If that’s true, and it might be, Ukiah needs to show the County the numbers. Riley also insists that the proposed annexation area got as large as it is because 1. they targeted entire water districts on the north and south ends of town, and 2. the County wouldn’t let Ukiah annex only the more lucrative retail businesses on the north end of town unless they also annexed some undeveloped property on the south end. Riley added, as her press release on Monday stated, that they are open to changing the annexation proposal. Riley also said that the County will “save” money by not having to improve annexed area roads and shifting that road improvement cost to Ukiah. Riley added that Ukiah would have more police coverage in the annexed areas. (Mark Scaramella)

RALPH WITHERELL commenting on Brad Wiley’s recent article about his explorations of Hop Flat near Navarro: "My grandpa Ralph Witherell lived around Navarro and was about the same age as Alvy Price. So they would have known each other. He and my grandma were farmers mainly. This is great for me because we have almost no info about those times. One of my big regrets was not getting to know Bill Witherell better when I was young, I could have learned so much. Thanks again."

THE SUPREME COURT on Friday limited the ability of federal judges to temporarily pause President Trump’s executive orders, a major victory for the administration. But the justices made no ruling on the constitutionality of his move to end birthright citizenship, and they stopped his order from taking effect for 30 days.

The 6-to-3 decision, written by Justice Amy Coney Barrett and split along ideological lines, may dramatically reshape how citizenship is granted in the United States, even temporarily. The ruling means that the practice of giving citizenship automatically to the U.S.-born children of undocumented immigrants and some temporary residents and visitors would end in the 28 states that have not challenged the order.

I WORK FOR THIS GUY.

(From a complaint filed in March by a North Bergen, New Jersey, lieutenant against the police department’s chief.)

On multiple occasions, the chief has exited the bathroom in his office and exposed himself to others in the room, making inappropriate comments, such as, “Hey look, it’s bigger than you thought, right?” The chief has pulled his pants down and defecated on the floor in front of his entire staff. During a cleanup of his former office, the chief defecated in a trashcan. Only after persistent urging did the chief eventually agree to clean it up days later. He also deliberately damaged officers’ personal property by breaking pens and smearing ink on uniforms, vehicle door handles, and office equipment, leaving officers with ruined clothes and ink-stained faces. He has placed spray paint cans under officers’ vehicles, causing paint explosions when driven over. The chief has gone into rages where he smashes items in the office. These outbursts include ripping the television off the wall and smashing it on the ground, throwing staplers across the room, smashing picture frames on the walls, and breaking glass that scatters across the office. On several occasions, he has thrown eggs. The chief also has a habit of placing hot peppers in officers’ food and heating them in the microwave. The chief also tampered with office coffee by adding prescription medications such as Adderall and Viagra, causing staff to experience the effects without their consent. In one incident, he poisoned a corporal’s fish, causing all of them to die.

ADAM GASKA (Redwood Valley): "Woke up to my dog barking at two guys with flashlights creeping around my neighborhood. Bel Arbres area. They jumped in a white Kia and creeped around the neighborhood. I went out to confront them and they took off so I called the sheriff and followed them in my car. We went on a cruise down Central Avenue, jumped on the freeway and came back, I followed them to Flow Kana, they turned back around. Sheriff came up while we cruised down Bel Arbres. Sheriff’s deputies pulled them over to shake them down. I left and went home. We get some tweakers doing the same shit about every 6-8 months. Homey don't play that shit. If you live in the Lennix, Bel Arbres area, check your things. If anything is missing, report it."

A MENDO CITIZEN: "If I was in the local government my strategy would be to spend a couple million dollars to sit around and talk about increasing regulations and taxes. That’ll definitely get the economy booming… And if all else failed, I would just give myself another raise.”

NEVER MADE IT to the state or federal level pen, but been in a lotta county jails, including this one in Mendo. Most were in-and-outters during protests and demos when I was young, but the Mendo jailings occurred when I was old enough to know better but. … But one was a totally unjust contempt beef where I did about two weeks in an ISO cell, which was kinda vacation-like until I ran outta books. I will never forget the kindness of a C.O. who led me down the hall to a room with a big pile of battered paperbacks in which I found a collection of John O’Hara’s short stories that lasted me during what turned out to be my last day inside. Without that C.O. doing me that huge O’Hara favor I would have had a hard time just sitting there. I also did 35 days way back for a scuffle with the County Superintendent of Schools, although the actual conviction was for a misdemeanor disturbing the peace charges DA Massini could lay on me. I believe at the time it was a state record. Incidentally, present DA Eyster prosecuted me on that one. It was great fun, actually, and a great show for the Point Arena Justice County, nutball Vince Lechowick presiding. I got to meet a lot of miscreants inside who remain friends to this day. If I were faced with years inside I’m sure I wouldn’t be so blithe about the jail experience.

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FROM THE ARCHIVE: ORDEAL BY OATMEAL

by Bruce Anderson (June 5, 1996)

Perhaps the greatest difficulty I’ve faced since the steel door slammed shut on me twelve days ago is the quick retrofit I had to do on my palate. I’m sure I haven’t forced down a bowl of oatmeal since the winter of ‘48. And Rice Crispies? Even as a child I felt foolish leaning in to the bowl to distinguish one sound from another. Too many crackles, not enough pops. Cream of Wheat? As a budding liberal, and thanks to the books of the late great John R. Tunis, I’d slam a bowl of the stuff because there was a black guy on the box.

I’m in an iso cell, which is a euphemism for the hole, or solitary confinement as they called it in the old days in movieland. I’d say it’s about ten feet long and maybe six feet-across. If you want to get the feeling for what it’s like… If you’ve ever been in a stall at a CalTrans rest stop off Highway 101 or I-5, that’s the exact feeling. The walls are concrete cinder blocks. They’re an odd sort of pumpkin-color — that’s as close as I can come to describing it — the color of the pumpkin you get in a can if you’ve left the can open for four days or so. Only a CalTrans color coordinator could create such a demoralizing hue. It’s one of worst colors I’ve ever seen, worse than anything the military could imagine.

Anyway…

The floor is cement. There is a little built-in metal desk, a built-in metal chair. There’s a metal commode/sink. The commode is visible from the hallway. On the ceiling there are four fluorescent lights that aren’t turned off until 11 PM, then turned on again at 5 AM. But the lights are never really off because there’s a very strong light in the hallway. The bed is a steel rack with a very thin, plastic-covered mattress. It’s taken me five or six days to adjust my sinewy, steel-hewn body into the contours of this rack. It’s a lot like sleeping on the floor, really.

There is some kind of a tin mirror on the wall, but at my age I seldom take any pleasure in looking in it. I have the face I deserve, as they say.

Now on to the physical accommodations here…

I’m locked behind a big metal door with a slot in it through which my meals are shoved. The phone, which is on a little trolley, is also shoved through from the outside. There isn’t easy access to the phone because it depends on who else may be using it, and you have to flag down a guard to get him to roll it over to your door. Then they have to stick the phone through the slot. Contrary to Sheriff’s spokesman Capt. Beryl Murray’s comment in the Santa Rosa Press-Democrat, there is not easy access to this tenuous link to the outside world. In the same piece, Murray said that I, like all other inmates, could “peruse the library.” (“Peruse” may have been reporter Mike Geniella’s term.) I was especially taken with that term, peruse. As if other jailhouse bibliophiles and I could casually stroll over and ramble through the stacks after which Captain Murray might join me for a special lunch of an oatmeal souffle, specially prepared by Chef Soon-To-Be Five-to-Life.

Captain Murray is also telling the media that I’m “being treated just like all the other inmates.” Which is true in the sense that I don’t get any special treatment — nobody does in here. What Murray leaves out is the more basic fact that not only am I in jail, I am being punished in jail by being kept in isolation. Almost all other inmates are only imprisoned. If, say Mike Geniella of the Santa Rosa Press Democrat, owned by the mighty New York Times, was in my position, I’m certain he would be housed in Sheriff Tuso’s office, get his meals shipped in from the Broiler Steak House, be drinking Fetzer’s best stuff with Tuso himself tucking him in at night.

The “library” consists of a dank, dark little room with 50 or so ragged paperbacks tossed in a heap in one corner. That’s the library that I was able to “peruse” the other night, out of which I managed to extract ‘Dr. Zhivago’ and the Collected Stories of John O’Hara, which should keep me going for another few days.

The jail seems to be bibliophobic. You can’t get hardbound books in here. Apparently what had happened was that people were buying books at local bookstores and plastering acid on certain pages and then informing inmates that on page 853 of ‘The Brothers Karamazov’ they could find 15 hits of acid. Books — only paperback books, at that — now have to come directly from publishers.

I can’t do much writing and re-writing because I wear my pencil down, and I’m finished.

I have absolutely no contact with other inmates. I have only fleeting contact with the guards, all of whom are friendly and as professional as our UPS delivery men.

There are six cells here holding my comrades in isolation. I can’t see to the end of the halls but the other occupants are a transient group who come and go. Several have already been moved out to mental hospitals. It’s of course quite cruel to confine a mentally ill person to an isolation cell but some of these guys are so crazy there’s no other safe place in the jail to house them.

Several friendly faces have popped up in the opaque window opposite mine, like the larger fish at the San Francisco Aquarium. We wave to each other like one captive fish flapping fins at another captive fish.

One fellow I was able to exchange a few words with lives under a bridge in Willits. He claims his sister falsely turned him in for stealing her prescription pills. Yet he’s a happy guy, or pretends to be.

What’s odd about this iso side of the jail — and I’ve experienced both sides — is the prevalent vibe which is quite merry. If the public thinks people here are overcome by remorse for their crimes, alleged and actual, they’re wrong. It’s encouraging in a way, because objectively I’m sure the situations of most of the people in here are not cause for joyous optimism. But the inmates seem almost jolly in the circumstances.

As does the staff.

The Mendocino County Jail is not a difficult place, not at all cruel place. It’s a lot like the military: The rules can be arbitrary, and the staff can be arbitrary. But it in no way approaches anything cruel and inhumane. My tough guy friends, guys who have done a lot of time in all kinds of facilities call Mendo “lightweight.”

What is cruel and inhumane, if you’re looking for cruelty and inhumanity, is the absolute lack of art and the absolute absence of any effort to improve the lives of people in here. There’s no reason why we couldn’t have a Bartoli aria wafting down these hideous hallways in the morning, rather than the strident voice telling everybody to get up over a loudspeaker. You could have flowers on the tables where people eat. You could have art on the walls.

Are you telling me the authorities of this County don’t believe in the redemptive powers of art?

In fact, if you put a bad seascape on the walls of my cell, and some really bad shag rug on the floor, it would not be unlike a Motel 6 room. Except this room is a little more expensive; it costs the taxpayers $55 a day to keep me here, while Motel 6 is around $33 a day.

The usual scratched-in prayers for race war and other random hostilities are scratched into my cell’s walls, along with declarations of undying love for several Debbie’s, a Tanya, two Kristal’s (on spelled Chrystal), and one Theresa.

The food is quite good; much improved from when I was here in 1989. We had a wonderful spaghetti the other night, nearly the equal of my wife’s. And we had a quite good barbecued chicken. The lunch soups are excellent, wonderful actually, as good as any you get on the outs.

I do have one complaint about the food: There’s something very suspicious about the luncheon meat. It’s too thick, too moist, too vividly liverish, too corporeal. The first time it was served I found myself thinking, “This isn’t baloney: three days ago, this was a Mormon!”

Breakfast is at 5 AM. Lunch seems to be around 10:30 in the morning. I say seems to be because in isolation one loses track of time. And dinner is about 4.

Most days I get about 30 minutes outside in “the yard.” I’m by myself the whole time, except for a guard, who has to stand there while I try to do a few chin-ups and walk around what is essentially a big metal cage, maybe 50-60 feet long, 12 feet across. I pace that for a while. The only view I have, other than the jail of course, is across the trees and into the Ukiah Golf Course. On some mornings it’s a temptation to stay in my cell and be spared the sight of golfers waddling around the links.

For the first five days I guess I was having caffeine withdrawal. This was combined with the recirculated air and the smells from chemicals they use to clean the floor, which I think is primarily Clorox, which shouldn’t be particularly toxic. For five days I felt like I had a very bad hangover, and I could only conclude that it came from not having the gallons of strong coffee I usually drink. Since I came in at the wrong time of the week for “commissary day” — an opportunity to buy a few necessities from the prison store — I was finally able to get a little bag of instant coffee. Now I drink two or three cups of that made with tap water, which never gets hotter than lukewarm.

Things seem to work in twos in here. Every two days I get a shower. Like most people, I look forward to showers. They’re held in public view out by the booking desk. It’s a very humiliating experience. You’re trying to balance your little soap and undress and wash up while people are walking by. The Mendocino County Sheriff’s Office is a coed operation. It’s humiliating to think that an unfortunate female correctional officer may take home the image of the porcelain orbs of my luminous buttocks looming up in the booking office like a new moon over the Mendocino Headlands.

One night I was awakened about 11:30 and asked if I wanted to take a shower? I said, “No!” I’ve had three showers in here so far, and I guess I’m going to earn some more.

Today, Friday the 31st, is my anniversary date. That’s seven days in. I don’t have another hearing until next week.

By refusing to hand over the letter and by sitting here in a sensory deprivation unit for a year, the only regret I have is that the Deerwood People are getting their revenge knowing that I’m here. So the sooner I get out, the more revenge they’re denied. I’m of course prepared to stay in here until Christmas if necessary.

For four days the only thing I had to write with was a tiny pinochle-type pencil, which was made in Sri Lanka, of all places. And the blanket that warms me at night was made in Peru.

The man next door is apparently a legendary figure here, because the young guys who come to shove my meals through my slot always call him by name, which I believe is something like “Bracket.” He’s very crazy. He bangs his head on the wall and shouts out curses at random. He obviously should not be in an isolation cell. He has since been moved to Atascadero or another mental facility.

The pill-snatcher, the jolly little guy across the way whose face occasionally appears in the window, is covered with tattoos. He woke up last Friday, popped up in his window, and asked me if it was Monday.

I’ve seen several people from Boonville in here. I won’t mention any names, but Boonville and Anderson Valley are, I’m proud to say, contributing their quota to the Mendocino County jail population. We may have exceeded our quota at the present time.

The jail is organized quite well. When one inmate leaves one of these isolation cells, three young guys doing county time pounce on it to do a team-clean. One guy cleans the toilet bowl, another guy sweeps, another guy removes miscellaneous items.

I was amused by some of the newspaper stories on my situation. There was one front page head in the Press-Democrat which said, “Anderson Jailed.” The assumption seems to be that “Anderson” is known to all without any identification needed. In a few more weeks Anderson will become like Madonna — just one word.

As it happens, I can look out the window of my cell into the television room of what is called B-tank, where Bear Lincoln is held. We’re able to exchange jolly waves. One night an inmate in the B-unit maneuvered the television set — they were watching an NBA playoff game — so that I could see it in my cell. I thought that was very kind of him, even though I had no interest in the game.

The medical cart is pushed around by a man and a woman, both of whom are in white coats. I suppose we ought to conclude that they have some kind of medical training. My sole request was for a laxative. Although edible, the food in here is pretty starchy. As I approach geezerhood, I am concerned that I stay regular, at least physically, if not mentally.

The Modern Library edition of War and Peace that I had in court last Friday was turned down by the jailhouse bibliophobes. I brought it with me hoping to at last read it, but they said I couldn’t have hard-bound books. Although logically, of course, I’m unlikely to be doing acid in my isolation cell. In fact, why anyone would want to do any drug in a jail is beyond me. Maybe a little beer would be nice, maybe a little primo. But a hallucinogen? This isn’t a place where you would want to be on acid.

The TVs in the adjacent wings are on most of the time. But they’re not on as much as they used to be. On the county side, they used to be on all day. Over here, they’re regulated to a certain extent. The other night I was trying to see what kind of stuff the guys were watching in B-tank. They watched sports, of course, and one morning, about 9 AM, a guy was flipping the dial and came to what looked like KQED, where a woman was doing aerobic exercises. A couple of voices yelled out, “Leave it! Leave it!” So they watched her do about 90 seconds of aerobics, then moved on to, I don’t know, Love Boat re-runs or something.

That’s another thing; not to be too Calvinistic about it, but it seems that while you have people incarcerated all of whom, I’m sure, could stand some intellectual fortification — I certainly can, everybody I know can — it seems that it wouldn’t be too difficult or expensive to replace television programming with tapes — educational tapes of all kinds, the better forms of drama. People would like that. The assumption seems to be that the typical inmate has no aspirations for higher art, or art at all, which is untrue.

At the risk of sounding macho, this place would have to be a lot tougher to drive me into the legal embrace of prosecutor Aaron Williams or Judge Luther. It’s not a tough place. I get the feeling — I certainly had the feeling the other day from the prosecutor, who seems to me unusually cynical for a young man — that it’s come down to some contest between Luther and the prosecutor of “Who’s Tougher?” I think, in fact, I’m tougher. I’m sure that remark will keep me in here until at least Christmas. Maybe I am tougher. It’s clear to anyone who looks at this case with reasonable dispassion that I’m being kept in jail vindictively, punitively, and arbitrarily. I’ve complied with the law and turned over the letter. They’ve declared that the letter is invalid, as if they would know that. So we’re in metaphysical territory now, friends. And I’m not very good at metaphysics. How they’ll validate this letter — WHICH IS THE LETTER and has no material effect on the case — I don’t know. But I suspect they’re going to validate it, with me sitting in here for a long time.

I don’t want to name everybody because I’m afraid of leaving people out. But it was nice to hear from so many people. People like Charmian Blattner. I was especially appreciative of Beth Bosk’s piece this week in the AVA. The AVA looks at least 10% better with my absence. I think Rob’s [the Editor’s brother Rob Anderson was temporary Editor while the Editor was in jail] a better editor. Everybody’s stuff was very good. It was a very interesting issue. Rusty & Flo Norvell, Judi Bari, Jean DuVigneaud, Linda B., Thomas Neece, Kevin Davenport, Dave Nelson (who’s been brilliant and bold with his statements to the corporate media), Joe Lee, and everyone else. And Ann Johnston’s Onion Rings at the Philo Cafe. So keep those cards and letters coming in, folks! It’s nice to hear from so many people. It’s surprising to hear from some of them, and I thank them all.

Disclaimer: I wasn’t able to rewrite this piece from jail which may account for a rough patch here and there. Then again, maybe it’s just me.

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Mark Scaramella adds: The Editor wrote this piece with a golfer’s jail pencil on lined yellow jail paper while in jail after refusing to turn over the original of a letter from Bear Lincoln to the prosecutor during the Bear Lincoln trial in 1996. He then called the office collect and read it to us over the phone. We recorded that call and transcribed it into this article. Hence the concluding disclaimer. The Editor spent a total of 13 days in jail before the AVA staff convinced Judge Jim Luther that the typed letter we had received was the original letter, not a hand-written one as would have been expected if Lincoln had written it from jail. As it turned out, Lincoln’s hand-written letter had been squirreled out of jail and re-typed with certain parts omitted by Lincoln’s lawyer, then sent on to the AVA as a Letter to the Editor. When the Editor realized there was nothing in the letter that wasn’t already on the record in the case, we decided to turn it over, but the first attempt to turn over the typewritten layer did not convince Judge Luther that it was the original. A week later, after the Major and the Editor’s wife were called in by the Editor’s lawyer (later Judge) David Nelson to testify about what they recalled about the letter, Judge Luther finally ruled in the Editor’s favor and released him.

SO I WENT TO NEW YORK CITY to be born again. It was and remains easy for most Americans to go somewhere else and start anew. I wasn’t like my parents. I didn’t have any supposedly sacred piece of land or shoals of friends to leave behind. Nowhere has the number zero been of more philosophical value than in the United States…. and when the [train] plunged into a tunnel under New York City, with its lining of pipes and wires, I was out of the womb and into the birth canal.

– Kurt Vonnegut, Jr, ‘Bluebeard’

DEFENSE EVIDENCE

I once looked up the origins of the word "caucus" in the Oxford Dictionary of English Etymology:

Isn't it obvious that the Algonkins were acknowledging the wisdom of crows? Today, in English, the collective noun is “a murder of crows.” It’s a slander, probably applied to these intelligent Corvids by some celebrated wit at the Algonquin round table. Yes, crows can screech and they will eat small animals. But mostly they eat fruit, grains, nuts, and seeds. Their typical sound is "caw-caw". Anyone who has heard them gathering in the evening in a tall tree will agree, I’m sure, that the proper term for the assemblage would be "a caucus of crows." (Given the intelligence of most of our politicians, it would still be a slander.)

— Fred Gardner

ON-LINE COMMENTS OF THE WEEK

[1] I work outdoors. My only suggestion is keep a wet rag around your neck and begin your day at the crack of dawn. And yes, it is getting hotter. I think we left the happy-happy, nice-nice kind of climate change about 10 years ago. We’re in the abrupt phase now. I recommend the gvt report titled Abrupt Climate Change: Anticipating Surprises so you’re not surprised when your home floods or flies away.

[2] History in schools consists of little more than learning why America sucks. I've got 2 kids in HS and one in college. The only actual history they know is from books we read together, and stories they hear from friends & family that have lived abroad. The second is that too much information for younger people comes via "influencers," people that look good on short videos. No one has the patience to listen to older people like my mom tell stories. If the message isn't short and delivered by someone super-sexy, it just won't register.

[3] The fact of the matter is this--on many BIG issues, the majority of ALL Americans are ignored. Most Americans think the health care system is a mess, and most Americans think the US is too pro-Israel. Yet in Congress, and the White House, things continue along, unchanged. On both these issues, the liberal/progressive/Democrat types are more dissatisfied, but so are many Republican/conservative types.

[4] I am a long-time resident of New York City. Let me tell you: Mamdani didn't win the election because he backs transgender bathroom rights. He won because of the high cost of living and lack of affordable housing in New York City, issues that establishment Democrats like Cuomo crow about but do little to address. Additionally damaging to Cuomo's campaign was his scandal-ridden resume; the financial support he received from rich Republicans like Michael Bloomberg and Trump's good friend Bill Ackman; and the blatant attempts made to smear Mamdani as antisemitic. Anti-Mamdani TV ads financed by Bloomberg and Ackman that showed Mamdani in Muslim garb and what looked like black thugs terrorizing the subway were borderline racist.

[5] The president, who is essentially a cult leader, is immune from the keyboard warriors because he doesn’t read. That’s not an exaggeration. It is common knowledge that staff shield him from all negative press. He is driven by something internal, something more noxious than conspiracy obsession. Lone wolves have come for him twice so far, and it is likely another one will come and eventually succeed. Because he is that unique type of leader, I believe his organization will fall apart without him at the head. I can’t imagine anyone else, especially JD Vance, even with his connections and financing, would be able to inspire people act as insanely as Trump’s fans do. Of course the damage will have been done.

[6] These alleged ‘outrages’ at a rock concert consisted of chanting Free free Palestine and throwing a flag onto a stage. Also, a singer singing ‘death to the IDF’. Oh my, where are my pearls to clutch. The event took place in the UK, which neither has an army named IDF, nor has recognized a people named IDF. The IDF is a lethal fighting force. If the Parisians in 1939 had chanted ‘death to the Wehrmacht’, would the British prime minister have chided them for being Insensitive? for being ‘terrorists’? The unintended irony in this is how it itself tip-toes around the Gaza genocide by understating the last 3 years; and checks intself into a Safe Room in order to be Sensitive and, perhaps, pass the Manager’s desk in the newsroom … without incurring a warrant for the publisher’s arrest.

[7] The USA is just about the only first world country without ANY protections for children's health and food. Healthcare in the USA depends on your employment- and with this Big Beautiful gift to the rich and take away from the poor Bill, food and healthcare for needy children is slashed. What kind of country are we? Heartless, selfish, pathetic.