Mendocino County Today: Monday, June 25, 2018

• Pawnee Fire Growing
• Boonville Services Update
• Barista Rehab
• Mendocino Moonset
• AV Grange Revitalization
• Little Dog
• Expensive Garden
• NCL Football Schedule
• Big Ballin' Benny
• Yesterday's Catch
• Immigration Politics
• Stargazing
• Fairmont Shooting
• Party Yesterday
• Don't Really Care

PAWNEE FIRE GROWS IN LAKE COUNTY

Flames raced through eastern Lake County on Sunday, devouring 7,700 acres and forcing thousands to flee for their lives in the first major wildfire to erupt in the North Bay since the October firestorm.

pressdemocrat.com/news/8466545-181/pawnee-fire-grows-in-lake

* * *

CALFIRE REPORTS 8,200 acres burned, 22 structures destroyed, 600 structures threatened

fire.ca.gov/current_incidents/incidentdetails/Index/2080

* * *

ON SUNDAY, LAKE COUNTY SHERIFF BRIAN MARTIN ISSUED AN EMERGENCY PROCLAMATION for the Pawnee fire, which is continuing to actively burn east of Clearlake Oaks in the Spring Valley Lakes subdivision.

lakeconews.com/index.php/news/56571-sheriff-issues-emergency-proclamation-for-pawnee-fire-fire-size-doubles

* * *

THE ESSENTIAL PUBLIC INFORMATION CENTER has been reporting (on KPFZ, 88.1 FM, Lakeport) on the “Pawnee Fire” in the Spring Valley area since shortly after 5:00 pm Saturday, June 23. As of ~4:30 pm, June 24 the Lake County Sheriff’s Department has expanded its mandatory evacuation notice to include all areas north of Highway 20 and east of Old Long Valley Road to Round Ball Road, including Mule Skinner, Long Branch, Watertrough Road, Flintlock, Muzzleloader, No Guns, Antelope, Cougar, Marianne, Ramrod, and Moccasin.

facebook.com/LakeCountyOES/

Highway 20 is open to through traffic, but access to Spring Valley and Long Valley Roads are not.  Both are “one-way in and one-way out,” so exiting traffic is managed to facilitate ingress by disaster response agencies.

The Lake County Record-Bee’s Facebook Page includes these posted maps, which are helpful for getting an idea of the rugged terrain surrounding the isolated Spring and Long Valleys.  According to the Press Demo around 5:00 pm, the “fire doubled in size, reaching 3,000 acres."

See the active Google map at this URL: mappingsupport.com/p/gmap4.php

The American Red Cross set up an evacuation shelter at the Lower Lake High School, and the Moose Lodge at Highways 20 & 53 is an unofficial (but more populated) evacuation site.  The Pawnee Fire Incident Command center has been set up at the Lake County Fairgrounds, for unified command of state, regional, and local resources.

* * *

* * *

BETSY CAWN REPORTS: Here is the most recent on-site shelter info from Lake County District 3 Supervisor Steele's wife, Olga Martin Steele:

"Just back from visiting the two shelters set up for our fire evacuees. The Lower Lake High School has about a dozen folks there - nice and cool inside. A Red Cross volunteer team of about 6 was on hand. We ran into Sheriff Martin and Senator McGuire there, also our new County Public Health Officer. There's plenty of room and there's room for pets. Things are a bit different at the Moose Lodge in the Oaks where about 150 or so are camped outside, some in small trailers or in their cars and tents. Most have pets with them. Thanks to the quick work of Claudine Pedroncelli and others, I was told there are adequate supplies of pet food now and they can get more if needed. Jim was able to get portable showers donated and a big thanks to the Clearlake Oaks-Glenhaven Business Association for stepping up with some money for portable bathrooms. Also big thanks to the volunteers at the Moose - some familiar faces and some new ones. Disaster Relief was also on hand. Talked with several people from Spring Valley - I am truly amazed at the resiliency of these folks and I don't know how but they are managing to stay positive despite the disruption to their lives and worry about what lies ahead. I didn't encounter anyone from Double Eagle but they were evacuating when we drove over the hill to the staging area a couple hours ago."

BOONVILLE WATER & SEWER PLANNING UPDATE

by Val Hanelt & Kathleen McKenna

Hi Everyone,

Kathleen and I want to share our latest report to the CSD last Wednesday (June 20, 2018).

We have been working with our project manager Francine Fua from the State Water Resources Control Board whom some of you may have met at our last Planning meeting on June 7th. Also, we attended the Funding Fair on June 19 to find out what other financial assistance is available. We are applying for a Federal grant from USDA (US Department of Agriculture) for a Rural Development grant. And we are putting in for consideration for County "Block" funds. Basically we are now confident we have approached every entity that could GIVE us money.

There’s lots to digest. But the gist of it is that we probably can get enough to cover the sewer project currently estimated at $13.5 million. We are about $3-$5 million short of our goal for the Drinking Water project (estimated at $17.5 million), but we feel there are still other possibilities to make up the shortfall.

We can't rely on these very preliminary numbers until it happens. Nobody promises anything… But this is the math the State and Feds are using for planning purposes.

One of the big questions for Drinking Water (where we are about $3 million short) is whether the State Water Resources Control Board (SWRCB) will increase the $30,000 amount they typically allocate for each household/connection to be closer to our current estimated cost per household of $67,500. Hopefully they will recognize that their $30K funding allocation per household is not realistic.

We have also looked into loans from the USDA for the Drinking Water shortfall and the best interest rate (for low income areas with health issues) is 2.375% for a 40-year loan. That is a loan factor of 0.03901. Multiply $1 Million times .039 = $39,000. Divide by the estimated number of our hookups (260) = $150/year (or $12.50/month) in financing costs. We can't even afford to borrow $1 million, folks, and keep our monthly rates as low as we would like. So we are looking into an all grant project.

What would parcel owners pay initially to hook up?

Sewer: If we get 100% funding (our goal) then the 200 Sewer hookups in and around downtown Boonville would not pay anything as the State pays for the private laterals to homes. (We are not sure what the situation for commercial businesses is yet — the State has to be sure ALL the sewage is collected correctly in the district service zone — so why wouldn't that also apply to businesses/schools/clinic?)

Drinking Water: If we get 100% funding for the Drinking Water project then parcel owners would have to pay to hook up to the water meter (in a concrete box by street?). But we are still chasing grants for low income/senior parcel owners to cover those costs.

The hope is that for both the Sewer project and for the Drinking Water project there would be no or low costs for hook up. When services come on-line, then monthly rates for operation and maintenance would apply.

What will the monthly rates be? We don't know yet. The State has assigned us consultants to do rate studies and they will advise and audit us closely. Again, the State's objective is to make it affordable for our "severely disadvantaged community" (according to census data) They can't put $31 million into our community and have the project(s) fail.

Remember that we are not requiring hook up to Drinking Water. People can keep their wells. This is so folks can irrigate, etc, with untreated, cheaper water that they already use. Also, some folks on private parcels want to keep drinking their own water. If they hook up to municipal system, then they would have to have a back-flow preventer so their private water doesn't enter the municipal system.

Sewer will probably require everyone in the zone to hook up because the reason the State is paying for it is to control contamination and deal with our public health issues in Boonville.

Now you know everything we know as of today. You are welcome to share this with your neighbors. If you are in the service area and are interested, there are preliminary reports and maps on both projects available. Become your own expert!

Email us with questions at water.avcsd@gmail.com.

Keep checking our website's water-sewer webpage at avcsd.org/watersewer.php

Best wishes and thank you for your participation!

Best wishes, Val Hanelt & Kathleen McKenna, AV Community Services District Board

REHAB & A CUPPA JOE

by Flynn Washburne

When I first reached the age of reason and started considering possible career paths, and having abandoned my childhood ambitions of becoming a tiger or a candy manufacturer, I set my sights on two possibilities: cop or lawyer. I envisioned myself as a crusading figure in the mold of Atticus Finch or Frank Serpico, righting wrongs in the face of opposition and advocating for justice and decency. While I have spent enough time in both courtrooms and police stations to qualify for a pension in both fields, the irony of my actual chosen field of endeavor is just too obvious and sad to even comment on.

After a few early brushes with the law and an introduction to, and deep and abiding interest in, methamphetamine, I was forced to rethink those noble pursuits and choose something more in keeping with my freewheeling, catch-as-catch-can lifestyle, and opted simply to go where the wind blew me. Those winds, capricious and whimsical forces that they are, wafted me into various and sundry dead-end gigs with neither future nor dignity — never mind what your dad told you about the virtues of hard work and the inherent nobility of the working man, if your dad was one of those types.

All that Steinbeckian foolishness is rooted in feudalism and Protestant brainwashing. I suppose someone has to dig the dishes and wash the ditches, but I’m damned if I’ll take any pride in doing it. Unless, of course, it’s my ditch or my dishes. In that case I will dig and scrub until the cows come home, naturally. Say what you will about Marx, he knew the value of a piece of the action.

When you come into rehab, one thing you’re expected to do is clean up after yourself and perform some sort of necessary function around the place, usually some kind of housekeeping duty, both to reinstill basic concepts of responsibility and self-care and to keep the place in order, public rehabs not being overwhelmed with extra funds to hire masseuses and manicurists like the places movie stars go.

Drug addicts, being equally underwhelmed with any pesky notions of responsibility or personal hygiene, generally agitate violently toward any suggestion they might make their bed or wipe the piss off the toilet seat and will go to extravagant lengths to avoid any sort of useful work, expending far more energy than it would take to do the job. Forced to comply, they will drag ass as if they had Kardashian-grade rumps weighing them down, whine piteously, and sabotage the project as a firm declaration of their displeasure at having to do anything more than lay around and scratch themselves.

Not to be tooting my own horn (upon who else’s horn would I toot? That idiom, like so many, does not stand up to scrutiny. Musicians in general don’t like other people messing with their instruments, and horn players particularly, given the intimate nature of the player/instrument interface), but I am an exception.

In active (addict) mode I am as lazy and unproductive as anyone else, except in matters regarding the procurement of more drugs. Then, I am relentless and unstinting in my labors. In recovery mode, though, I become a model of responsibility and productivity, seeking out ways to prove that I am not, as previously believed (by me), an irredeemable bucket of walking sewage. I return to the ass-kissing, teacher-pleasing days of my early youth and volunteer freely for any and all opportunities to be of use and burnish my self-image.

The job of coffee-maker here at the Ukiah Recovery Center requires both the most energy and deepest commitment, beginning at oh-dark-thirty and continuing throughout the morning as the residents filter in to get their substitute fix.

On first arriving I actively lobbied for the position, being a morning person and a coffee aficionado of near-pathological degree, but the gentleman occupying the gig did not want to give it up. He was a power-mad scrimper who took perverse pleasure in meting out limited quantities of pathetically weak brew and creating a distinctly unwelcoming atmosphere in the coffee area. This, I vowed, will not stand.

The provision of caffeine is a sacred duty and my mission was clear. Luckily, certain supernatural forces intervened to interfere with Andre(the incumbent coffee dude)’s waking apparatus, which was lucky for me in that I was able to slide in as understudy as he lay abed. Not only did I arise earlier, giving the fellas (it is a coed operation, but the ladies prefer sleeping) earlier access to the bean, but I made it at least 50% stronger and provided a welcoming, convivial atmosphere in which to enjoy it. Word got around quickly and it wasn’t but a minute before a groundswell of support for my campaign forced Andre into bathroom duty and me permanently into the coffee job.

My years of interfering with sleep patterns have rendered me unable to get more than 4 or 5 hours at a stretch, and I’m generally up by 4 at the latest. At that hour I am fizzing with energy and ideas, and my 5-8 am Breakfast Club, in which we don’t actually eat any breakfast but only down prodigious quantities of dangerously strong coffee and shoot the shit, has become the Place To Be in the morning and a conclave of Algonquinian degree, if that august panel were composed of tweakers, wet-brains, junkies, and coke-sniffers. We have an enormously good time and while we may have shot our collective wad by 10:00 AM and returned to our default condition of worn-out dope fiends, we have at least enlivened and enlightened one another for a few hours. The jokes are immature and well-worn, the laughter loud and long, and the roastings brutal, in a friendly sort of way.

All of which brings me to my point: that I have missed my calling, or one of them, by not becoming a coffeeshop proprietor. Not in the modern incarnation where skinny-jeaned hipsters drop serious coin on complex coffee-based concoctions and poke at their electronic devices while they ignore their actual friends. I’m talking about a place and a time that no longer exists, specifically a small town sometime between 1945 and 1975, a time when coffee was coffee and could be paid for without folding money. A place on the town square where the men of the town gathered before work to grumble about their wives, tell jokes, discuss the weather, and enjoy the bonds of brotherhood and coffee. A bygone era when people and their pleasures were simpler and did not require exhaustive research to understand and enjoy.

Of course, depending on where I’ve located my little fantasy cafe, it would be either legally mandated or tacitly understood that minorities were unwelcome, never mind gays. They couldn’t even safely exist, much less get a cup of coffee in small-town America. Jews would probably be out too.

I realize that I’m engaging in something like reverse discrimination here, but the truth is that many of the most interesting people I’ve ever met fall into one or more of those categories, and if they can’t come into my coffee shop and accompany their cuppa joe with a bagel and schmear or a dollop of whipped cream or a shot of Hennessy, then screw it. Herb and Sam and Carl and all the rest of those fat racist bastards can make their own goddamned coffee, and I hope they choke on it. I’m packing up my beans and moving to the Village, where I’ll create an atmosphere welcoming to communists and beatniks and other weirdos. I’ll have a giant espresso machine that looks like a steampunk fantasy contraption and learn all the fancy Italian coffee recipes. Troubadors will warble, ideas will flow, and from the tables of my establishment will grow the seeds of dissatisfaction and revolution. I will be the proto-shop that eventually evolves into the salon-cum-patisserie-cum-conference room-cum-homeless shelter that is the coffeehouse of today.

I like lattes and capps and while I don’t truck with all the syrups and gunk clogging up some of the more elaborate concoctions available today, I say that dropping $7.50 on a caffeinated bev is not necessarily foolish, as many people of an age so often and loudly assert, because what else is going to give you that much pleasure for that much dough?

My grandpa, who was born in 1903, used to say that he could get drunk, fed, a piece of ass, and then drunk again for less than five bucks when he was young, and I don’t doubt it. Without a time machine, though, twenty ounces of triple-shot latte will have to do.

No discussion of coffee in this space would be complete without a shout-out to the finest coffeehouse in all Mendocino, the Headlands in Fort Bragg. They get top marks in everything — quality, variety, food, atmosphere, clientele — and at fairly reasonable prices. Sorry for all the drugs I did in your bathroom, guys. I always cleaned up after myself though.

To be fair, I haven’t visited all the coffee places in the region — not even all that many, really — so there may be some undiscovered gem out there. Feel free to invite me in for a complimentary cup and an evaluation from a self-professed expert.

WHAT COLOR IS IT?

by Debra Eloise

In the fall of 2017, AV Grange Master, David Norfleet, recommended a revitalization project to repair and upgrade the Anderson Valley Grange on Highway 128 in Philo. After many committee meetings, discussions and lots of hard work, the building is finally done! Well, almost... Like most things, it continues to evolve and there will always be improvements to be made. Isn't that like all of us?

Come on by and check out what a good power washing, bush trimming, some board replacing, and painting can do. The trim colors were chosen to match the mural to make it the main attraction on the front facade – does it jump out as you drive by?

Lots of people were involved in the painting process. The AV Grange would like to say THANK YOU to as many volunteers and members as possible who participated: David Norfleet, Bill Meyer, Richard Henry, Tom Jones, Tommy Jones, Michael Wilson, Barbara Lamb, Andy Jones, Laura Baynham, John Mark, Karl Shaul, Mr. Trout, Nikki (Petit Teton), Captain Rainbow, Ray Langevin, Brett Peterson, Jesse Peterson, and Debra Eloise. Apologies to anyone missed, but please know EVERYONE who helped is greatly appreciated for making this painting project a success!

Want to know more about the activities of your local Grange? Want to participate in more community activities such as The Annual Variety Show, Pancake Breakfasts or perhaps use the facility for one of your own events – private or public? Want to become a member and attend an AV Grange meeting? Contact us today and save these phone numbers:

Grange rental – Wendy Kerski, Coordinator, call or text 707-391-7572;

Meetings and Memberships - David Norfleet, Grange Master, 707-895-3580;

Captain Rainbow, Overseer, 707-895-3807; or

Laura Baynham, Secretary, 707-895-3249.

OR... infoavgrange@gmail.com

The AV Grange is HAPPENING! This is YOUR community hall – be part of it!

LITTLE DOG SAYS, “Skrag was out front all day hollering at the passing Rasta Babes, stuff like, ‘Hey, baby, try a real man,’ and ‘O yea, I'm as sweet as I look, honey.’  Embarrassing even to know him let alone live on the same property with the degenerate.”

$3 MILLION IS NEVER ENOUGH

Last week the Ukiah City Council was told by staff that they wanted to, in essence, forgive a $236,780 loan to the Grace Hudson Museum and write off that money from the city’s general fund reserves.

The reason the city loaned the money to the museum was that it was needed to complete the Wild Gardens project the museum had begun in 2011 when it got a $3 million grant from state parks funds.

The project itself got going in 2013 and is now complete.

Along with the new interpretive garden, showing ancient Pomo wild land management methods, the museum got a new driveway, more parking, new bathrooms, a new entrance from the back of the museum where the garden is located, all the Americans with Disabilities Act mandates fixed, and some other improvements to the museum itself that were long known needed attention.

At the last minute, as the project was wrapping up, a ‘change order’ arose in the amount of $236,780 to address some of these issues and the city provided what it called then a ‘short term loan’ to get the project finished.

Now staff says it thinks the city should just write that off because, after all, no one knew these expenses were going to be necessary and the new Wild Garden will be attracting lots of tourists who will spend money in the city and so really it’s all a wash.

We have been to see the Wild Garden and all the improvements. The garden is dandy and the improvements were probably necessary.

But here’s where we have a problem.

How did no one know that a Wild Gardens project was going to mean more parking? Extra bathrooms? ADA compliance issues? A new back door? That just doesn’t make sense. We’re told that a state-of-the-art stormwater biofiltration system was installed with additional money from the State Habitat Conservation Fund with a matching amount from the city’s Public Works Department.

What we see here is a gold-plated project with a $3 million starting budget that cost much more and now the city is being asked to chip in another $236,780.

This is just the kind of thing that makes taxpayers nuts; $3 million for a garden? Now we know it was actually a major museum reconstruction project. But everyone in charge of the money implies it was all a big surprise. When the project was announced, many Ukiahans thought $3 million for a garden was excessive. Yet when project expenses mount there is never a thought that well, maybe we’ll have a little less of a garden. Instead, as often happens, the result is, well, we’ll just get more money.

(K.C. Meadows, Editor, Ukiah Daily Journal)

NCL III (FORMERLY NCL III NORTH) 8-PERSON FOOTBALL LEAGUE SCHEDULE AND SEASON INFO

BIG BALLIN’ BENNY NEEDS HELP

Hello,

My name is Benjamin Keator, or Benny. I'm looking for help. I'd like to start by thanking you for providing me with a weekly paper. I can honestly say I look forward to it and being in jail hearing my name called for mail brings a bright smile.

Today I’d like to touch on a few issues. After fighting my cases in Mendocino and Lake counties over the past 15 months I have been on a wild roller coaster ride. I first took a plea deal from Mendocino, two years eight months for transportation of a controlled substance (even though the amount of meth was only ten grams). I agreed to the plea to be able to be placed in drug court. The other eight months was for a failure to appear. Drug court accepted me and recommended that I complete a six month residential treatment program. So I went to Lytton Springs Recovery Center. At Lytton I began to truly engulf myself with the program. I was looked to by my peers as a leader, a person who really might be able to overcome their drug addiction. I was arranging my own Narcotics Anonymous meetings, mentoring new arrivals and beginning a new life in my walk with God.

Unfortunately this was short lived. After in Lytton for five months I began to slip back to my old ways thinking that I had it under control. I didn't need anyone. I knew it all. Right!

So I began to see my old friends during my free time. I say my “friends,” but I should say punk-ass lame-Os. Anyway, my actions, my choices were questionable. Not right.

One Sunday I returned north to Redwood Valley to visit my family and friends. At this time I felt weak to my inner self and couldn’t wait to finally get high on meth. I enjoyed the first hit so much. My body felt no more pain, it blocked all my emotions out. All I could do was enjoy. Shortly after that, of course, regret, shame, disappointment overwhelmed me. So I snorted some more. I was relieved of all worry for an extremely brief time. That was followed by paranoia, anxiety and grief which overtook me. I knew then and there that my addiction was the only saying that mattered to me. I realized that my family, my friends, being successful, raising a family or anything else was nowhere near as important as the drugs were to me. Needless to say I never returned to treatment.

You see, I'm a runner. I hate responsibility, accountability or even being successful. My entire life I've fallen short of my goals and I've never completed anything. I rarely ever follow through. Well, I can't say never — I have successfully completed three prison sentences.

Being an addict is lots of work. You have to really know how to talk BS real fast and have no standards or morals. Once I was off and running full tilt I masked my drug use by having nice things, driving fancy new SUVs, trucks, being very careless with money, etc. As time went on I began to find my way over to Lake County. There I met an entirely new range of addicts and people like that. I surrounded myself with them which gave me a false sense of power, and acceptance because they didn't know me. They only could see the image I put out and the big bag of dope and the nice truck.

That's what led me into why I'm currently serving a five-year eight-month prison term here at the Lake County Jail.

Once I started running around Lake County I finally was pulled over by a Lakeport police officer even though I was on the run from Mendocino for not completing drug court because after not showing back up at curfew at Lytton my probation officer put a warrant out for my arrest.

Due to driving a new SUV my ability to hold a conversation with the officer was limited. He believed I was my brother even though I couldn't provide any ID. The officer ultimately let me go with a simple ticket. I signed it Sam Keator and accepted a written citation to appear in court. At the time I was amazed that I had once again avoided the law.

Soon I was pulled over again by the same damn officer. But this time as the officer approached the vehicle, even though it was two months later and two different trucks, when he got to the driver's window he immediately recognized me from before. So I reacted by slamming the truck into gear and screaming, "Come on!" Like the Dukes of Hazzard boys I was gone. The cops never located me that night.

But the cops knew me now and they put out an APB for me. So now I was running from the law in both counties. I became extremely paranoid and refused to close my eyes for anything. I became extremely unhealthy, lonely, on the verge of self-destruction.

Finally one day after buying a big nice Ford F-250 I drove from Laytonville and headed to Santa Rosa. Between Laytonville and Willits my good friend Brandon was begging me to let him drive because I was continually falling asleep and crossing into oncoming traffic. But I refused. We almost started fighting because he couldn't stand to see me destroy myself any longer. Of course he was stoked as well because he was wide awake watching me sleep and drive.

Finally I dropped him off and headed south. I can honestly say that I truly remember nothing after I somehow ended up in Calpella heading south just before the Granite Construction plant. I ran off into the ditch and officers were screaming for me to get out of the truck. I was completely unharmed. I simply very slowly drove over the edge of the road and fell asleep until officers arrived. I was shocked. All I had to do was wake up, slap it into four-wheel-drive and keep on trucking. But the man upstairs wanted me to call it quits.

So I was faced with all my legal problems piled up in two different counties. After several court appearances in both counties I was finally sentenced to a two year and eight month term in Mendocino and three years in Lake County. On sentencing day in Lake County I finally realized I had been wrongly informed by my legal counsel into taking the deal of felony evasion and all my cases would be run consecutively. I refused to finalize the deal and requested the court to allow me to retract my plea. Several more court appearances later I was set to begin my trial. I was certain after all the research I had done on evasion that there was no way I would be found guilty by a jury. I was right. The District Attorney took another angle. Since I outran the cops and they couldn't prove it was me to a jury, they pushed the matter to providing false identification to a police officer with a three-year prison term and a prison prior with a misdemeanor for failure to obey an officer’s direct order. They then threatened me that if I wouldn't take the deal moments before trial the district attorney would drop all charges and refile assault on an officer with deadly intent with the vehicle. That charge alone carries a life sentence and once the charges were formally filed I would never be able to have a valid driver’s license.

The district attorney basically strong-armed me into pleading out. Yes, I admit I'm fully responsible for my actions. I'm sober now going on 15 months. I'm thinking clearly again. I work out daily. I spend hours reflecting on my decision-making that lead me here. I've reflected on the negative side of drug use, drug sales and my life of crime. I can't come up with any positives so far. Positives really aren't possible because there are only negatives. Even though I'm in love with fast money, fast women, fast cars, and the fast life, I must constantly remind myself that it is not worth it. Life is too short.

With that said, I would like to reach out to the community. I'm here in Lake County Jail until the year 2020 and I would really like to take college courses on becoming a substance abuse counselor. Unfortunately the jail offers no classes other than the GED. I would like to put together classes through Mendocino College that inmates can take while serving a local AB-107 realignment prison sentence. It is completely unfair that the jail offers very little rehabilitation to me. Yes, I'm aware it's been overwhelming since the realignment act of Prop 57 passed back in November 2016. But come on. Even Mendocino Jail offers welding, education, narcotics anonymous, etc. So I'm reaching out to anyone who would be willing to help with contact information on resources, personal contact information or any other hints. I'm looking for a solution to my addiction and I really feel that if I stay involved with positive things I won't get involved in the negative things.

I send all my love and respect to all active men and women locked up in Mendocino County Jail. A special shout out to Troy Ward: I love you big brother. And my friend Billy the Kid, keep your head high. Always remember to keep smiling. Of course if there are any ladies needing a pen pal I'll be right here.

Respectfully,

Benjamin ‘Big Ballin’ BMW Benny’ Keator

4913 Helbush Drive

Lakeport, CA 95452

CATCH OF THE DAY, June 24, 2018

DEBORAH ANDERSON, Ukiah. Failure to appear.

FRANCISCO GONZALEZ, Ukiah. Suspended license, evasion, parole violation.

DAVID JOAQUIN SR., Covelo. Community supervision violation. (Frequent Flayer)

JULIO NAJERA, Ukiah. Controlled substance, paraphernalia, county parole violation.

DANIEL NICHOLAS, Ukiah. Fighting/challenging to fight in public place, trespassing, probation revocation.

KENNETH RICHARDS, Fort Bragg. Parole violation.

ANGELA RIVERA, Ukiah. Controlled substance, paraphernalia, failure to appear.

MICHAEL STANLEY, Albion. Under influence.

LUIS VEGA, Ukiah. Controlled substance, destroying evidence, suspended license (for DUI).

MICHAEL VORIS, Willits. Battery with serious injury, resisting, failure to appear.

PATRICK WILLIS, Ukiah. DUI, misdemeanor hit&run.

MARIA ZARATE, Ukiah. Controlled substance, failure to appear.

ON LINE COMMENT OF THE DAY

I remember a young Cuban boy named Elian Gonzalez who along with his mother came by boat seeking refuge in Florida. The boat capsized and his mother died. Relatives of the boy in Miami took him in, but the father in Cuba wanted his son back. Then the politicians stepped in – We’re not sending this boy back to that horrible country. Eventually, cooler heads prevailed and he was to be sent back home to his father, but not without a fight. The image of Elian hiding in a bedroom closet being uncovered by an officer in full battle gear pointing a weapon at the terrified boy still lives in my mind. If someone is to blame in this current horrible treatment of human beings it is the politicians who year after year use immigration as a football to be tossed to and fro to the advantage of one group over another. Manhattan would not survive without its army of undocumented immigrants to service its needs as it realistically cannot afford those services at legitimate prices, as is true of most cities in the US. Some states, contrarily, are being bankrupted by immigrants. Are these situations addressed in Washington? No. Let’s build a wall. The money spent on a wall would easily pay for effective border guard services.

JUNE 27, 1918 — Mrs. Robert Cords shot and perhaps fatally wounded her husband in their apartments at the Fairmont Hotel at 6 o’clock yesterday evening. Four shots were fired, all of the taking effect. Alarmed by the reports of the revolver, which echoed along the corridor of the fourth floor, Clerk William G. West hurried upstairs. A moment later Cords came walking over to Manager Baker’s desk. He was smoking a cigar. “I am shot pretty badly,” he explained coolly. “I think you had better get me quick to a hospital.” He pulled back the right lapel of his coat as he spoke and showed a shot hole with blood oozing from it over the right cigar pocket of his waistcoat. “I am hit in the arm, too,” he added, and raised his right shoulder in a shrug. He was holding his cigar in his right hand. Baker hurriedly summoned Clerk F.A. Robinson from the adjacent desk and had him take the wounded man to St. Francis Hospital. On the way, Cords swooned and Robinson though he was dying. Meanwhile, Clerk West had reached the Cords’ room. One bullet had smashed the doorknob. Mrs. Cords was found sitting in the bathroom. She was holding a revolver, which she pointed at them. “We hurriedly closed the door and went to call the police,” explained West later. “As we were leaving she called us back and handed Clarke the revolver. She then became hysterical and said all sorts of things.” I shot to kill! I shot to kill!” she kept on repeating. “I hope I killed him!” (SF Chronicle, June 1918)

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING TO DO TONIGHT?

(or more accurately, last night?)

MORE IMPORTANT THAN STORMY DANIELS

(CNN) “As she boarded a plane to head to McAllen, Texas, for a surprise visit to the heart of the family separation crisis at the southern border, Melania Trump was spotted wearing a coat with these words scrawled on the back: ‘I really don't care. Do U?’ Nothing to see here! insisted Melania spokeswoman Stephanie Grisham. ‘It's a jacket,’ she told CNN. ‘There was no hidden message."

Duh! Of course there was no hidden message. The message was blatantly clear and to the point. In fact the whole point of Melania’s short and uneventful trip seems have been to wear that jacket and make that statement. What else came out of her visit to witness the heartless mandates of her husband? Nothing. The Trump camp “I don’t care” sentiment toward children and families is more telling of decadent character than the Stormy Daniels affair.

(David Severn)