We left the Brooklyn docks in the intense heat index of 110 degrees F on July 6th.  Hauling our backpacks, chalked full of (almost) everything we needed for the Mongol Rally – ranging from clothing and safety equipment to Russian phrase books and a toilet seat.  Needless to say, we were a rare sight on the Cunard’s Queen Mary II.  The very first day on board, we headed directly to the ship’s library and I perused the nautical history section in detail.  I read through early pirate history along America’s coastline, read about the crossing of the Titanic – White Star is now Cunard, and I also came across a great book about the Mayflower and a history of the pilgrims before they left the England and Holland.

Attending lectures by John Maxtone – Graham, author of The Only Way to Cross and Liners to the Sun, by day and

concerts and balls by night, Lauren had our entire days outlined by 8:00 the previous evening.  Graham gave extremely interesting portrayals of the History of Cunard, the building and crossing of the Titanic, and life on-board crossings during the 19th and early 20th century.  These lectures and histories really opened our eyes to the amazing way we started off our journey, which would / will eventually take us to Europe, Mongolia, and eventually Southeast Asia.

I eagerly watched the satellite image of the Queen Mary II cross over the final resting place of the Titanic 2.5 miles below our feet.  I walked up on the deck of the ship and looked out at the water realizing how much difference 3 months makes when cruising the North Atlantic.  I looked out over a foggy fairly calm sea in a humid 74 degrees Fahrenheit.  We had fog, but practically no fear of icebergs in July.  In April of 1912, we would have seen our breath in the cool air and the icy waters below.

After crossing over the sunken wreck of the Titanic, I read daily about the preparations the pilgrims made to come to America.  I read with great interest as I learned things which I had never been taught in school about the pilgrims crossing.  There had originally been two ships one was called the Speedway, which was purchased by the exiled pilgrims in Holland when they grew impatient with the negotiations with “sponsors” in England.  By the time they had arrived, a company called the Merchant Adventurers had purchased a ship called the Mayflower for their voyage.  There was great turmoil between the pilgrims and the Merchant Adventurers, who aimed to profit off the fishing around the new colony.  My previous understanding had been that they simply could go where ever they pleased in the New World, however in fact, they had to get land patents granted by the crown.

There were also accusations that Holland, who had claimed a right to Manhattan Island, attempted to delay the pilgrims and keep them away from the New World because the Pilgrims’ land patent was at the mouth of the Hudson River, which was too close for comfort.  There were many more facts which I will spare you that I found interesting about their voyage.  It was slightly amusing as I pulled my head up from the book, reading about how the Mayflower was in a turbulent storm in the mid-Atlantic and how the crossing took 60 plus days.  I, on the other hand, looked around took a sip of beer and listened to children laughing in the pool in front of me and was also in the Mid-Atlantic after just 4 days.

Once we arrived in Southampton, I discovered it was only a short walk with all of our gear (in much cooler weather than in Brooklyn a few days ago) to the Mayflower monument. We headed that direction and a wave of fascination swept over me as I looked up at the giant stone monument to the Mayflower crew. Strangely, there are bronze signs for many people on board but not for my ancestor, William Bradford. Hopefully after the rally this is something I’ll be able to remedy.

Nothing can compare with the Cunard line when it comes to luxury cruising. We found this out in vivid detail over the course of a seven day, transatlantic cruise from New York to Southampton, UK. The cruise departed on the 6th of July. The first night was an elegant casual affair with beautiful cuisine in an even more luxurious dining hall. Since we had booked so last minute we received no prior cruise package outlining what to expect, etc. We did not, therefore, book a seating. When we arrived at the late sating for dinner there were limited seats available, so he put us at a beautiful, 6-person table by the window in the corner. Arguably, this was the single best table in the room because we had a beautiful view of the ocean not a foot from our chairs, and the corner was quiet enough to hear our other table guests. Meanwhile, it was a preferred location for waiters so we ended up with one of the best servers on board! But the real jackpot came with the company!

We met, at our table, the most amazing, adventurous and memorable couple you’d ever hope to come across. Born in India during colonialism, the lady had deep insight into the region, and considered it home. Her love of Indian culture and cuisine ran deep, and she regaled us with stories that were so enthralling it was literally the best entertainment on board. Her husband was a Brit from Rhodesia, and together they lived wonderfully in that country experiencing so many marvelous things that the stories seemed to weave together in a cloud of awe. Mike and I sat enraptured in the life experiences of this couple night after night, and looked forward to dinner time throughout the day. By the end of the cruise we felt we knew them very well, in the way one comes to know a character in a good book. We asked them if they would be writing a book about their amazing adventures, and they seemed to favor the idea. As humble as they were, though, it’s hard to tell if they will do it or not. If they did, it would be an instant hit. Aside from their many adventures in Africa, they also lived in Europe, the UK, Ireland and America, and traveled around Asia to boot. When it comes to lotteries, Mike and I really hit the jackpot with this couple at our table.

The other entertainment on board came in the form of the Royal Cunard dancers, who were absolutely amazing, and the Royal Cunard Singers, who had someone in their midst who had the aggravating problem of being entirely off key 90% of the time. There were piano players, a harp player, a comic singer, a violinist, trivia crew, game staff and much more. One big band on board played for the gala balls and there was such talent on the dance floor that the 80 year old women could give Dancing with the Stars a run for their money.

One of the most amazing things happened while on board as well. Mike and I are traveling to Europe to embark on the Mongol Rally, as many of you know. So, we had with us our backpacks filled with outdoor clothing. We did not have a tuxedo. Mike and I found out the first evening on board that you would not be permitted into the dining hall, or really anywhere on board after 6pm, if you did not meet the nightly dress code. This was a bit shocking. I had packed an evening gown for the cruise that was wrinkle-free and fit in a sandwich bag when rolled up. Mike had nothing. He ran down to the pursers office (a lovely group of folks) who directed him to tux rentals at Hermes, the luxury designer clothing shop. A tux rental was something we didn’t really budget for, but Mike talked with the sales clerk who listened patiently about the rally, Mercy Corps, the adventure, and why we were on the QM2. She nodded politely and at the end she handed him a suit on the condition he dry clean it before the last day. We were astounded! She was such a lovely lady and did us such a huge favor. Without her, we might have missed every dinner on board because it turned out every single night until the last was formal. While all this was going on I was at the on-board movie theatre watching Invictus. Suddenly, Mike came into the theatre in a tuxedo and a million-dollar smile. I was amazed! I jumped up and we ran to the room where I quickly got ready and we dashed to the champagne captain’s gala and then a lovely dinner with our adventurous couple. It was an amazing evening, a truly epic and memorable day made possible by a very friendly lady.

We met several very interesting people on board, including a US Navy veteran of WWII who showed us his original military ID card. We met a man who was in charge of the horse racing commission in the UK, and a man who headed up the UK football league. There were very few people our age (read- none) and yet we had the best time talking with interesting folks who had already experienced a great deal. Two thumbs up for Cunard, and two more for attracting such interesting folks to their cruises.

We spent the night in New Jersey at the airport hotel, and fell asleep somewhere around 4am after a silly sprint around the city returning the rental car, finding the hotel, moving our luggage and finding a place to pull out some cash. To make matters more interesting, New York was then experiencing record high temperatures and it was 104 degrees that day, with a projected new high in tomorrow. To our endless surprise, everyone we met in Jersey was helpful, friendly and wonderful. We expected the opposite for some reason.

In the morning, we grabbed a sandwich from a small shop, took the free shuttle from the hotel to the airport, and then took the airport tram to the Amtrak-operated line that connects Newark with New York. What follows is no exaggeration, and my firm loyalty and love for Amtrak was put to the test that day.

We boarded the Amtrak train and it left some ten minutes late. “ok, not bad.” But, with our 70lb backpacks, a ukulele, my camera bag and mike’s laptop case it was a very long ten minutes. We boarded, tossed our bags at our feet and watched sweat roll over our eyeballs. We didn’t know that could happen. The record 105 degree temperature was made hotter by high humidity and a fully booked train. We made it one stop down the platform before the train broke down. A cynical and wholly unhelpful man came on the intercom and explained that we should all get off. We did so, which broke Mike’s bag in the process. So, there we were, running short on time, short on energy and extremely dehydrated. We stood on the platform with our bags for a few minutes, no easy feat I’ll remind you, before the same man came on the intercom and asked us to go to another track. We went underground, down the steep steps crowded with grumpy New Yorkers, and up the steps on the other side. We stood there dripping sweat, looking like Angel Falls was pouring over us. Five minutes later, as I felt my tendons start to give, the announcer asked us all to go back to our original track. We went back down the stairs, back up the other side, and with angry city folk all around us we looked off into the distance truly exhausted. The train came some while after the bags started to slip off our shoulders from all the sweat. We nabbed a seat and gave sympathetic looks to the poor huddles who had to push past our giant bags to find a seat.

We arrived at Penn Station still alive, which was more than we had come to expect. It was easy to find the connecting subway we needed to reach Brooklyn, so we took the metro to the southeast. When we reached the final station we got out and asked the attendant how to reach the docks. She said it was a fool’s errand to walk in the heat, but when we insisted she pointed and we scampered outside. Heat really can hit you like a slap in the face, and this slap was so hot it felt like it was delivered with a recently-used frying pan. We strapped on our bags and set off…. In the wrong direction.

I’ll spare you the Brooklyn saga, but suffice to say we finally reached the cruise terminal by 2pm. A good two hours after our check-in time. We had missed lunch on board, and we were desperate to find some water. Nevertheless, we were in high spirits when we walked into our inside cabin and found a bottle of complementary champagne waiting for us. I’ll tell you one thing about going through a trial like the one from Jersey to Brooklyn by public transportation—when you get to the other side it sure is a beautiful thing. We drank some champagne, changed into clean, sweat-free clothing and rushed up on deck to survey the ship and say goodbye to the USA. When we were up on deck with our drinks waving, it looked like Lady Liberty waved back.

On the 3rd of July, we booked a boat leaving from New York on the 6th of July. Since I don’t fly (and most un-winged mammals shouldn’t) we decided to rent a car and drive from Chicago to New York on the 5th. It all seems very logical and organized, but behind the scenes it was a bit of a chaotic mess. We decided on taking the Queen Mary II Cruise in what can only be described as a truly epic moment. We had been debating the cost, the time it would take, and the cheaper option of flying. Finally, at about 9pm on the 3rd I was sitting outside on the deck with a gin and tonic (how all good ideas start, really) when the sun began to set (yup, it sets that late in the summer near Chicago) and I had the most beautiful feeling of calm and happiness wash over me. It really is the simple things. But then I decided to make it much more complicated. Mike came outside and I turned around in my chair and said “what have we been worrying about? Let’s take the %@*#)( cruise!” I laid out my argument, which was a simple ATC-type argument that went along the lines of enjoying the moment, carpe diem, and the fact that we would make more money once we got done with the rally and found jobs overseas somewhere. Really, the only question left was why wouldn’t we take a cruise across the Atlantic. In a big wave of excitement and principle we dashed around the house getting the required paperwork to book the cruise.

The next day was the 4th of July. For our non American readers, this is the American Independence Day. To celebrate, Americans usually purchase ridiculous amounts of alcohol, beer and wine and then purchase a trunk-load of fireworks. Seems intelligent, I know. We incorporate a BBQ into the mix and gather all our family and friends to one yard for the food, drink and explosions. Since my family was in Washington I missed out on the legendary bonfire, which was a disappointment. But Mike and I went to a family friend’s dinner for a fancy picnic on the patio, and then to a friend’s house to watch her inbred neighbors light fireworks directly above their house. It was a wonderful, all-American evening. And in true 4th of July style we got home exceptionally late, smelling of sulfur and Budweiser.

The following morning we awoke at 5am and packed, registered our passports for the cruise, and then picked up the rental car. After a teary good-bye to Mike’s family, we set out in our tiny car with the aim of reaching New York city by nightfall. Anyone who has driven across country knows the sinking feeling in your gut when you come to the first toll booth in the Midwest. I wrote an entire blog about the toll processes along the route before reaching Jersey. Despite that, the roads were nice, direct and well kept. It was only nearing Jersey that traffic picked up even the slightest bit. We sang along with the radio, had debated with NPR, played license plate bingo and even did some typing on the laptop. The 14 hour drive went by quickly, and although the toll situation was frustrating, at least they ended when we hit Pennsylvania.

Arriving in New Jersey after such a long trek was a great reward. Everyone we met was friendly and we easily found our way around- despite the turnpikes. We found our airport hotel (across from a prison) and the rest will have to wait for part two of the mad dash installment.

I’m growing a bit concerned about the folks on talk radio in the USA. We’ve had ol’ Limbaugh for quite some time, but recently I’ve noticed a surge in folks on the extreme right and left who take up the airways and fill them with drivel. Remember the good old days of Paul Harvey and ‘The Rest of the Story’? That was high quality radio right there! I’m really craving a show that gives interesting facts (not political points)or even a bit of American history. I know some stations donate a solid minute a day to history in the form of ‘this day in history’ but that simply doesn’t meet my apatite for good radio. I’d love a show where radio hosts interview surviving WWII veterans, or chat with politicians about their childhoods, moral ideologies and thoughts instead of their current events attitudes. It would be nice to see a wider picture of America than the Billboard top 20, the latest in celebrity gossip, and the diatribes of the psychotic.

Just a thought.

Okay folks, this visa process is a bit more in depth than any of the other visa applications for any other country we have visited. Since we’re in the process of applying for several visas for the Mongol Rally, we’ll walk you through the steps to getting a Russian visa and invitation letter, and what to expect throughout the process.

1. Make sure your passport is valid for 6 more months, at the least.
2. Get two passport pictures in color, against a white background, and have them cropped to the exact 2’x2’ size.
3. Download visa application form. Now, it may seem pedantic, but the form MUST be printed on both sides of one piece of paper. You cannot have two pages. Fill the form out in black or blue ink only, no pencil or crayon or marker or anything else. If you don’t know the answer to a question on the form, you may need to call a visa agent to ask for clarification, but don’t leave anything blank. You’ll need your work history, school history and information from your passport and travel plans (see step #6).An invitation letter is required for a tourist visa. In order to get this letter you’ll need to talk to your inviting institution (like a University, or friend, etc). If you don’t have anyone inviting you to Russia you may need to purchase an invitation letter from a visa company. The letter usually costs about $15 – $30 dollars.
4. Travel vouchers. In many cases, vouchers will be needed for your hotels, etc. If you go through a visa company they will usually take care of the vouchers for you.
5. You’ll need to know your exact entry and exit dates for Russia, as well as your itinerary. You’ll deliver some of this information on the visa form itself, and the rest in the application form for the invitation letter. The more specific you are, the better as this helps with the travel vouchers (or so we hear).
6. Finally, mail all of this into the visa company (highly recommended over doing the process yourself, which results in more rejections) along with your money order for the consulate and a separate money order to pay the visa company.
7. Most visa companies specify the duration or return time as anywhere from 10 to 20 days. If you want to expedite your visa, the consulate will charge you an added fee, as will the visa company. Plan ahead with this and have at least a month planned for this single visa.
8. Once you get to Russia you have three business days to register your visa with the hotel or with the visa agency you used to get your visa. Don’t miss this, or you could be fined when you try to leave the country.

Good luck!

I don’t count. I simply do not exist nor do I count to the American government. Ten years ago I was overseas and wasn’t counted. As it happens, Americans living abroad not involved with the government are simply not counted in the census. Thus, for the last two censuses I’ve been nonexistent. A census representative had a booth set up in my home town. I asked the gentlemen about my status and made him exceedingly sad when I made a sad remark about not mattering. I think he took me a bit literally. Anyways, he filled me in on the policy of us non-VIPs living overseas. The bare bones of it—you don’t count.

This wasn’t my first interaction with the 2010 census. Down in Texas (where we did a bit of traveling last winter) we noticed dozens of billboards along the Mexican border with signs like “Be honest on the Census. Immigration officials do not have access to census files.” And things of that nature. We suddenly noticed some of Hollywood’s A-list stars on TV telling us politely to fill out the census forms. And each evening when we turned on the news we saw talking heads talking about the upcoming ordeal. How many millions were spent making these commercials, billboards and forms?—not to mention the folks who went door to door!

My personal experiences with the census didn’t stop with my sad encounter with the census rep in my home town. Nope, a young man came to the family home where I happened to be visiting and demanded to know why there were several people at the house when only one was listed. I told him I didn’t count, and he said that I did! Success! I matter again! He took down my name and hopped in his Toyota and zipped down the driveway as I basked in my newly gained self importance. I matter!

Alas, this simply isn’t the case. Recently up in the Upper Peninsula, in Michigan, a census woman emerged from the woods and inquired about our residency and status. We told her we sometimes matter and sometimes don’t, depending on which census representative is asking. Turns out we decidedly don’t matter in the UP. Defeated again! (although obviously, the April 1st point did not apply to us) On a funny side note, this poor lady said some of these cabins in the woods she is sent to have no roads, only paths, and she has walked several miles down trails only to emerge suddenly in the front yard of a small cabin. “Aren’t you worried about getting shot?” I asked her. “I’d get worker’s comp.” she replied. Funny lady. Apparently she has walked and hiked and driven all over the UP and has quite a few interesting encounters with the yoopers (upper peninsula locals) not to mention the very active wildlife. She confirmed my earliest suspicion that we didn’t matter and then laced up her hiking boots and headed back into the woods. This is one very thorough government!

Despite the seeming confusion about the census, I’m very excited to see the results. I can’t wait to see how some of the places I’ve lived and visited have changed and grown (or shrunk, whatever the case). I think it is a great practice, and I am honestly excited about it. Almost like a sitcom you love that you have to wait to see the finale for—come on 2010 census information! I wonder how long it will take for the results to get into the public domain (aka-Wikipedia) for each city/county/state, etc.

We’ve spent a few weeks in Michigan’s UP, the Upper Peninsula surrounded by great lakes. It is a beautiful, if not rugged landscape that grows tough, hardy people who are simultaneously hard as nails and yet as friendly as Home Improvement’s Wilson character. You can walk into a diner or bar in the UP and see some of the world’s most flannel-clad, bearded and grime covered men, only to have them pull out a chair for you or hold open the door with a tip of their baseball cap. It reminds me of a time I’ve never experienced, but only heard about. People leave their doors unlocked, and neighbors stop by almost daily to chat about the weather, the fishing conditions or whether or not you saw the deer out by the lake the previous evening.

Here is a story to demonstrate my point: The septic tank pump broke and alarms were going off in the cabin. We dug out the still water hole and replaced the pump. Meanwhile, neighbors from the left and right side of the cabin sauntered over to offer their help, advice and the use of their facilities until we solved the problem. Neighbors from even further down the road heard of the incident and drove by to see if they could help. It was like a sitcom scene where the whole town shows up in the yard to help one family. I had heard of such things in the past from my grandparents (or history books) but up in the UP that is just daily life. The community has taken us under their wing, given us local history lessons, books, food and fishing and hiking tips. It’s like we’re part of the family—two long lost prodigal grandchildren who suddenly returned from out of the woods. It’s a great feeling, and one we’ve never experienced anywhere we’ve traveled. All hail to simplicity!

On an unrelated note, our time in the UP has yielded quite a few fish as we try our hands at acquiring our food from the wild. As it stands, I have caught several large bass while Mike seems to be a pro at walleye and pike. I learned to filet the fish, a task which involved (sadly) cutting it open and taking out the parts Americans don’t eat. It made me sad since we’ve seen folks in China dig into the organs and eyes, head, etc and yet we’re wasting those parts here in the US. I have no idea how to cook fish head, but when I’m back in China I’ll take a cooking lesson or two so I don’t have to toss out half the fish in the future. I have this theory that you shouldn’t eat meat if you couldn’t or wouldn’t go out and catch/kill it yourself and prepare it from the moment you capture it to the moment you eat it. I’m testing this long-held philosophy with the fish. So far, it involves petting the bass and apologizing to it, turning around while Mike stuns it, and then I’ll cut it open (while apologizing) and then filet and skin the meat parts. Then I apologize a bit more while I’m washing and storing the fish. I never considered myself a city girl, but I think these Yoopers (UP locals) would have a good laugh if they saw me petting and apologizing to my recently caught bass.

We just returned this evening from a small neighborhood gathering where some of the town’s most well known locals had us (and a few other cabins) over for desert. We chatted about many things, but no political or religious conversations emerged. We talked at great length, however, about the beaver population (did you know a beaver can live up to 80 years!) and told stories around the table of our travels abroad (everyone was extremely intelligent and well traveled). I have to say, it was a really amazing, simple and perfect evening with the Yoopers.

You can’t consider yourself a long-term thinker if you shop at Wal-Mart, Best Buy, or any other major chain in the United States. Here is why: they outsource. Simply put, we get products for cheaper but in the end more folks here will be unemployed which will result in fewer purchases long term. Folks at these major corporations have to realize they are simply sucking as many greenbacks as possible out of the economy while it lasts. An entire economy based on service industries is hardly a stable one, but that is where we seem to be heading.

So, why do I take it out on Wal-Mart? Honestly, it isn’t really fair. Wal-Mart is just a prime example because they sell the largest range of crappy products on the market, stretching from crappy sewing machines to crappy electronics to crappy plastic toys to crappy, low-quality clothing. This isn’t much different from most other major corporations, but this one is more prevalent. Its like blaming McDonald’s for all fast-food woes.

Yesterday I was looking at a piece of antique furniture. Unless doused in gasoline or saturated in water, this thing will be around long after I am. Something about that is much more comforting than looking at the $20 Ikea equivalent. Our culture demands things for cheaper and cheaper, and when a deal is good we’ll buy the product even if we’re fully aware it is sup par. We seem more than happy to accept that an item has a shelf-life. I’d much prefer to buy something once and have it for life. My life, not the life span attributed to it because it will whither away on its own accord over time.

I remember the day I returned to the USA having spent several years in Germany as a child. We got away from the airport in our rental car and I asked my dad why all the houses were made out of cardboard. An astute observation for a child, I have to say. It turns out it isn’t cardboard, but 2×4 pine boards with a bit of drywall and nails. The shelf life of a home in the USA is under 50 years, and this seems downright sad. Mike and I recently worked with Habitat for Humanity down in Texas and were shocked at the minimal amount that actually goes into making a house. Once you see the process from A to Z you start to wonder how the thing lasts even 50 years. Meanwhile, in Germany homes are built to last several generations. They can spend the additional money to make it correctly and make it sturdy because no one family is supporting the entire weight of the bill. If America were to start to make better homes, it would have to change the underlying cultural trends wherein children leave the nest and move to an entirely new area.

This reminds me of a story my grandfather told me when I was younger. He said the US government brought in some German road engineers to teach them how to build long-lasting roads. The Germans dig way into the earth and layer with straw, sand, tar, cement, straw and much more over and over again for around 2 meters. When they finally slap on the last coat they have a product that can withstand extreme weight, weather and use. The Americans were impressed and started to mimic the German road-building method. Suddenly, construction was halted as a politician pointed out that all the road workers would eventually work themselves out of a job with these long-lasting roads. I don’t doubt the story is true, but I do doubt that we would work ourselves out of road jobs by making them right the first time.

I recently read that there are two types of belief systems- utilitarianism and deontology. The former type believes in the greatest good for the greatest number of people while the latter believes in personal rights, regardless of the outcome. Americans seem to be distinctly deontologists, and are concerned about the jobs of the workers over the long-term happiness and convenience of millions of Americans who would enjoy driving to work without dodging orange cones. I think this is interesting because I’d much prefer the roads to be done right, to the highest possible quality at a higher price tag now, and then save money and time down the road (ha ha, my first pun) on repairs. I also suggest this project as a sort of CCC type deal for our current unemployment solution.

I digressed from my anti Wal-Mart point, but the ideology underlining it is the same. I think long term we need to pay more for high-quality, lasting products from small businesses instead of buying the cheaper version that will wither away and need to be replaced. In short, I think the greatest good for the largest group of people in America would mean more jobs here, more high-quality, lasting products here, and building a country we’d be proud to show our grandkids, instead of delivering them one in need of massive repairs.

I don’t mean to launch into a diatribe, but its my blog and I feel like ranting about the so-called ‘disaster in the gulf.’

1. This is a product of drilling for oil. If we’re going to insist on using the combustion engine, we have to realize the consumers are as much at fault here as BP. If we were not buying up oil like it was gold, then they wouldn’t push themselves to drill it out of the ocean with such urgency that it causes them to be rushed and thus a bit haphazard.

2. Can people please stop blaming BP like they are shocked that a company would put the environment or human beings in danger in return for profit? Lets not be naive. The company is not Tony Hayward, who is also not a super villain who is secretly delighted by the spill. The company is the stock holders, who will do anything (including spend their fortune on an ad campaign mid-crisis) to keep the shares from losing value. There is nobody who deserves to have his or her ass kicked more than the stock holders, good luck Mr. President, in finding them all and kicking them a good one.

3. I’m tired of seeing oil-saturated birds and wetlands. We take a very large, very toxic dump on the environment on a daily basis all across the planet, this really isn’t any different. People are not willing to move past the combustion engine (see point #1) so they can’t blame anyone for oil-soaked birds but themselves. Put down your remote, pick up a pen and write your state representative to support mass transportation and clean, renewable energy. Otherwise don’t criticize BP for pouring oil down fish throats. Also, don’t call anyone who wants to progress past outdated technology a hippie. I doubt Ben Franklin, Alexander Graham Bell, or Eli Whitney would enjoy that type of labeling, and I don’t feel like I have dreadlocks forming simply because I think wind energy is more intelligent than digging for dead dino bones to light on fire.

4. If Americans want more jobs (and I think they should be actively demanding them) then they need to force their representatives to enact laws that ban or prohibit outsourcing. We have high unemployment at home while our electronics, automotives and chemicals are produces abroad. Being the jobs home, put people to work, and get more funding for our science programs so we don’t loose our innovative edge. Also, give grants for clean or renewable energy research and reward people who provide solutions instead of point out problems.

5. I’m supremely pissed that the real bill for this crisis is going to come out of our pockets. The reserves of oil under the sea in the gulf belong to our country, yet a British BP comes in and sucks it out, slaps a sticker on it and sells it back to us for a profit. Once this all blows over, you can expect gas prices to one day go up enough for BP to recoup its losses in the gulf. After all, the Exxon Valdez crisis was a disaster that is quite aptly comparable, and yet Exxon today is the largest company in the world. Anyone who doesn’t think this bill is landing on them isn’t look at the larger picture- which is to say, that we’re essentially going to pay BP for this misstep.

6. I’d like to suggest someone slap the media quite hard for their constant nagging. When did the media in the USA become as lame as the politicians? These folks are supposed to be reporters, which means they should be doing a bit of research from time to time. Instead, we have poor Admiral Thad Allen up there making statements and these talking heads (the reporters) are fixated on all the wrong aspects of this seemingly never-ending story. The media has made this oil spill the only thing happening in the world. I want to hear about the news. This is not new, this is over 50 days old. And the media seems more than happy to keep a constant ticker on how much they harp on one story instead of report on what is actually happening now in the world. It makes me feel like the media is intentionally focusing on this to avoid having to do any real work. Meanwhile, we have real issues going on around the world that Americans should be aware of, and all they know about it how the media is trying to portray everyone as incompetent. The only really incompetent ones are the folks at CNN, Fox and every other major network that has long since stopped being respectable.

7. Finally, and this is a positive point for a change, I’d like to point out how awesome I think Thad Allen is. This military man, the ‘incident commander’ is a straight-shooting guy that really doesn’t’ bullshit his way through a press conference or dodge answers. If he were to run for office tomorrow I’d click ‘yes’ simply because he isn’t a politician. Reporters ask him questions and he gives an answer. Meanwhile, at a press conference yesterday, the White House spokesperson standing behind Than Allen interrupted several of his straight-forward answers to back peddle, blame shift, and generally make himself look like a lawyer/villain from a Tim Allen movie. I’m so outraged by the type of person who goes into politics (in both/all parties) that it is actually a real shock to see someone answer a questions bluntly. Way to go, Thad, and keep up the straight shooting. Also, you just might be the military’s best spokesman at present.

That is all I have to say about the disaster in the gulf….for now.